#and then I had to fight against sleeping standing up for the rest of the day which was baaaad

[quietstormxr]

Home

Part 2 of 'Forgotten'

Angst, Fluff

Poll Chosen : Xaden Riorson x Reader

Summary: After leaving Navarre behind, you promise yourself you will fight with or without your dragon and beloved. Fighting though, for some reason always leads you to Xaden.

A/N: FW/IF Spoilers.

Word Count: >28k (settle in and get comfy)

I really hope y'all enjoy this one. Let me know what you think.

Part 1

What does one do when they run away from their dragon and desert their war college? 

Hide, of course. 

Pausing at a copse of trees, you sink down to your knees and pull the now tattered cloak as firmly around your shoulders as you can. The bitter chill of the wind has begun to settle into your bones as you miss the warmth of a roaring fire and warm bed.

Days of traveling by foot have taken a grueling toll on your body. Though you haven’t gone hungry, thanks to your foresight of paying attention to infantry during RSC missions, the small game that you’ve caught and cooked over small fires has not done much to satisfy your hunger. The fire, in turn, barely warms your hands and feet when the night chill settles in.

As your head rests against the back of a tree, you take a deep breath trying to clear your mind. Even though you succeeded in your plan to slip away, it doesn’t take away the hurt that has twisted like a knife in your heart every step growing more painful than the last. Taking shallow breaths, you try to will away the devastation that seems to settle in your entire being.

The connection to your dragon has seemed to go dormant, a hollow feeling taking its place in your soul. You’re unsure if it will ever break completely, but you haven’t tried to pull towards it either. 

Reflecting on the bond, you can’t help but wonder if your dragon is glad to be rid of a rider that let themselves fall into the background. You feel a sense of cowardice and guilt wash over you at leaving everyone to fight the coming war. It’s that heartache of being a coward, for your dragon and beloved, that finally solidified a decision for your probably short future. 

As you were already in Poromiel, you knew there was no going back to Navarre. Besides, the Poromish have been fighting for much longer and are attacked more often if your experience in Resson was anything to go by.  

A few days prior you came across a small village, the people there wary of you dressed in all black leathers. Those reactions caused you to immediately find the nearest tailor and buy a new set of clothes with the little money you had with you.  The tailor was obviously distrusting of you, but no one was going to turn down coin when living in a small village, never knowing when your next sale would be. 

Although you purchased a wool shift dress, you didn’t have enough for a new cloak, hence the tattered holes that riddled yours from days of sleeping in the woods. 

Taking a deep breath, you lay down to get some sleep for the night hoping that the villagers were right, and you will arrive in Pavis in the morning. 

At the first sign of dawn, you sit up stretching out your back and muscles that have cramped during the night from sleeping on the hard ground. As soon as you feel blood flowing back into your extremities, you stand slowly wiping the sleep from your eyes. Staggering forward, you head toward the small stream you had noticed before picking this area to camp for the night. 

As soon as you arrive you drop down and splash the cold water on your face and drink your fill of the clean, cool water. The shock of cold sends a shiver down your body, doing wonders in pushing the last vestiges of sleep from your mind.

You begin walking in the same southeastern direction the villagers had directed you in just four days ago. Letting a small groan fall from your lips, you try to forget the sluggish feeling that has overtaken your body from so many days of travel. 

It’s as if Amari and Zinhal have finally thought to bless you as you finally see a large town come into view. A sigh of relief escapes you as you finally see a town that rivals Chantara and not just a small village with nothing there.

You drag your tired body to the first tavern you see and take a deep breath at the smell of spiced, roasted meats filling your lungs. A second later, your stomach growls loudly in protest of not being filled. Sitting down at the bar, you open your pack fishing for the remaining coin.

Pulling out your small purse, you drop the contents on the bar in front of the barkeep.

“What can I get for this?” You ask, hoping beyond hope that you can get something filling. 

“Not much. I can probably get you a small bowl of stew and a glass of wine.” The barkeep replies giving you a slightly suspicious look. 

It dawns on you that the man can probably hear the accent you have when you speak the Krovlish language. You may be proficient, but it’s been almost impossible to hide your accent.

“That would be lovely.” You say hoping that you can seem as harmless as possible. At least you know that no one will see the daggers that are strapped to your body since the shift you bought covers them well. 

As soon as you exchange the coins, you are presented with a small steel bowl filled with a delicious smelling stew of beef and local vegetables. You dig in, savoring every single bite that begins to warm you from the inside out, letting out a contented sigh as the food hits your empty stomach. As you continue eating, you can see the barkeep watching you from the corner of your eye. In order to beat some of the suspicion, you take the chance and begin talking. 

“Can I ask if you are currently looking for any help?” You ask as you begin to bring the wine cup to your lips. 

The barkeep, a middle-aged man with bronzed skin and dark blue eyes that are clearly analyzing your motives. “You don’t seem like you’re from here. Where are you coming from?”

At the question, you startle slightly but make sure to hide your surprise at the question. “I’ve been displaced since the invasion in Resson.”

You decide that being as truthful as possible will be the only way to go, hopefully garnering the trust of the man you are currently speaking with. The barkeep continues to look you over, but you don’t miss the pitying gaze that he gives you. You can’t help but scoff internally as you realize how in the dark the people of Navarre have become, but obviously venin attacks are openly spoken about.

“I’m looking for a bed and to make some money.” You begin to explain exactly what you’re trying to find. “Eventually, I hope to join the rest of your military to fight against the threat that’s being ignored past your borders.”

“And why would I believe that? You’re obviously Navarrian. What if you’re just here to cause trouble?” The barkeep drolls on, but the calculation in his eyes is obvious. “Besides, I thought only a riot of dragon riders helped to fight in Resson.”

The wince is impossible to keep off your face. Taking a large sigh, you let everything out. You tell the barkeep that you were a rider, having since left your dragon, Basgiath, and Navarre behind. You try to convey the conviction you feel about helping the people of Poromiel and the overarching continent, even recounting the tale of the little girl you saved. As you begin to finish, you can see the hard lines of the barkeep’s expression begin to smooth. 

“I’m not sure how you pulled off leaving a dragon behind, as well as Basgiath, but you seem genuine.” He says matter-of-factly. “Tell you what…We’ll have a trial. You help around the tavern with any tasks given and you can stay on the cot near the kitchens.”

“And, if you’re serious about joining the war effort, I’ll get in touch with those I know in the military and see if I can get you involved.” The thankful smile that falls across your face is a relief from the sadness and fear that had gripped you over the last few days. 

“That sounds wonderful.” There’s no way to hide the earnestness in your voice. “I appreciate your kindness and willingness to give me a chance. Things haven’t been easy the last few days.”

“Well, if you’re going to be staying here, introductions are in order. My name is Redvers, but you can call me, Red. Ceridwen is my wife, and she runs the kitchens.” Red holds out his hand to shake and you take it enthusiastically, happy to finally be able to have someone to at least converse with and give you a chance. 

“I’m Y/N. I really won’t be able to thank you enough for this.”

He chuckles. “Don’t thank me too much yet, you haven’t worked or have even seen where you’ll be sleeping.”

“I doubt any cot could be worse than the cold, hard ground.” You mutter ruminating on how nice it will be to sleep somewhere other than on the forest floor.

“Come, you can begin working tomorrow. Tonight, you can rest and get settled.”

Red leads you to a small room that is only large enough to house a cot and small table. You look back at him and smile as you take your pack off and place it next to the table. 

“Let me know if you need anything, the tavern is usually open late into the evening.” Red says before turning and closing the small door. 

You immediately try to light a mage light and as you try for the third time, it finally hits you. All the powers you had are now gone. You fumble in the room until you find a candle and a flint to light it. As soon as the small flame is lit, you fall to the cot and your head falls back onto the pillow. 

Finally feeling some semblance of safety, all the emotions you’d drowned out since a silver haired girl entered the scene crashes down at once. 

Staring at the beams of the ceiling, you try to normalize your breathing, but its useless. Your body has gone into shock, panic overtaking your every sense. Breathing is erratic, and tears are streaming down your face in a torrent as your body begins to shiver and shake in response to your breaking. You turn to the side and curl up into the tightest ball you possibly can and let yourself fall completely apart. 

You’re unsure of when or how you fell asleep, but as you wake with a pounding headache, you realize at some point in the night your body must’ve given out. The emotion that overtook you taking every ounce of energy you had left in your body. As you trudge from the bed, you look to see someone brought a pitcher of water while you’ve been out. 

Pouring yourself a cup of water and staring out of the small window you hadn’t noticed when you entered, you try to take a deep breath though all you feel is a hollowness. As you stare into the night sky, the sadness of now being alone settles like a heavy cloak. All you can do is count your breaths and hope that you made the right decision. 

A few days go by, and you find yourself getting into the groove of assisting in the tavern. You begin noticing the townspeople that seem to come in regularly. A few fliers have also made themselves known, although you know they have no idea their enemy is feeding them stew and serving them wine and ale. 

You grow close to both Red and Ceridwen, learning of their story and their families. You never thought you would find such wonderful and caring people, especially when you just randomly walked into this space. They welcomed you as if you were the daughter they never had. 

Ceridwen began taking you under her wing and helping cook in the kitchens, teaching you recipes you’d never seen before. It was there that you could hear the conversations and gossip from those coming through the tavern. 

“I don’t know what he thinks he’s going to accomplish with Sorrengail.” Your ears immediately perk up at the name going to stand closer to the serving window of the kitchen.

“Look Cat, it doesn’t matter what he’s doing either way. The betrothal is null and void. There is no reason for you to bother with Riorson any longer.” Your eyes flash as you realize who they are talking about, but then they furrow trying to place the name Cat. 

“You and I both know he’s not really in love with her. If there’s one thing that I learned being betrothed to the bastard is that he’s incapable of feelings besides calculation and revenge.” You’re unsure why but her words about Xaden make your blood begin to boil. 

“Just because he wasn’t emotionally available for you doesn’t mean he’s emotionless. Stop being so petty.” The other girl counters, obviously trying to put this Cat girl in her place.

“Secondly, if that is the case, what would you call the other girl that always had him distracted.” 

“Oh her, she was never a threat. Besides, look how easily she was left behind. The group didn’t even notice they were leaving with a riderless dragon when flying out of Resson. Some feelings he had for her if she was that forgettable.” The defiant tone in Cat’s voice causes a stone to settle in your stomach. 

With the last statement, you move out of earshot of anyone in the tavern. The knife that’s been embedded in your heart since you disappeared turns a little tighter making it hard to breathe. You can’t help but wonder when the knife will just explode and either kill you or leave you so emotionless you can’t be hurt anymore.

The rest of the day passes as if molasses through the eye of a needle. When you are finally able to retire for the night, you fall on your cot and try to breathe through the heartache that seemed to settle inside you, a tight band constricting further and further across your chest. 

When you rise the next morning, you are more set than ever that you need to get to the front lines of this war. If you are going to lose your life, you might as well lose it while trying to fight the real enemy, maybe then the hollow feeling in your chest will stop. 

As soon as you can, you go to speak with Red. “Have you had any luck finding someone to connect you with the military?”

The surprised look on Red’s face is almost comical, maybe he didn’t think you were serious about that part. He motions for you to sit down at a stool, and he sits next to you.

“I spoke with one of the commanders of the drifts. She has instructed that if you are interested, you will have to bring your supplication to Viscount Tecarus in Cordyn.” Red finishes and he looks at you directly as if to ascertain if this is what you want.

“How exactly do I get to Cordyn from here?” Asking that question makes his face fall slightly.

“Are you sure that is the path you wish to take? Ceridwen and I are more than happy to help you and let you continue living here. We’ve both come to enjoy your company over the past weeks.” The sad look that Red gives you causes you to let out a sad smile. You never thought deserting your position as a rider would end up leading you to people who had become surrogate parents. 

You get up and sling your arms around Red. Although startled, he wraps his arms around your waist in a warm hug. 

“You really have no idea how much it warms my heart to hear you say that.” You pause trying to find the right words. “But all my life I’ve been left behind. Now, I have the opportunity to stand up for those who cannot and if I fall doing so, at least I know I died honorably.”

You can see the sadness in his face as he comes to terms with the fact that you won’t be changing your mind. Red gives you a small smile and squeezes your hand.

“Give me a few days and I will help get you to Cordyn. On foot or by carriage it takes several days, but I may be able to get you a flight with one of the gryphons.”

Your eyes widen as you take in his words. “Would a gryphon even allow someone besides their flier on their back? Won’t they know that I was a dragon rider?” You can’t help the thought and fear that grips you. 

“Yes, you would be allowed to fly. And no, they won’t know you were a rider.” Red says with so much conviction your brows knit together. “You see I know a little about bonds, between gryphons and dragons.”

“When a bond is tested by the rider or flier, it can be broken if the gryphon or dragon chooses to do so. I’m unsure if your dragon has chosen to break the bond, as its hard for a human to decipher, but the gryphon won’t be able to sense it as it is buried.”

“How exactly do you know all of that?” You can’t keep the confused look off your face at the new information.

“Because back in my younger days, I was a gryphon flier myself.” Your eyes widen as you take in the new information. 

“Why didn’t you kill me on-site?” The question forms unbidden on your tongue and escapes before you can stop it.

Red gives you a warm smile before stating simply. “Because you fought for those who needed help. You chose to aid someone you were taught was the enemy without question and saved a young girl. Valor like that is worth more than just being classified as a dragon rider or gryphon flier.” 

Without even forming the thought, you find yourself back in his warm embrace. “Thank you for trusting me and recognizing something in me that most other people seem to take for granted.”

“I think you underestimate how many people see your loyalty, honor, and valor. However, I do believe that all those qualities can be taken for granted. It’s not uncommon to be left behind when you quietly lift people up.” He pauses with a thoughtful look on his face. “It isn’t usually until those people lose the person that held them high that they realize everything they had and lost.”

With those words, Red leaves you to get to work getting the tavern set up for the day. 

The parting words seem to continue to float in your mind for days. You never wanted to be taken for granted, but it seemed like your entire life people always just assumed you would be there. You knew that your nature to be a safe haven in the storms of life for everyone was something people loved. However, when it was calm, you always felt that people would let you drift behind. A forgotten force only needed to bolster someone in times of trouble.

Thinking your time at Basgiath over, you realized that you had always been a haven for Xaden and his group. You were constantly there trying to help them in every way you could. What you didn’t realize was that they played you for a fool, taking advantage of your willingness to help. 

Reflecting, you remember all the times you told them about the weapons that Emmetterio would have brought in and even showed them the forge at Basgiath. You had signed up for weapons maintenance, and they ended up having clear access to everything they were looking for from you. You shake your head as all the small things you missed come crashing down. 

Luckily today was a rare occasion where Ceridwen had you going to the market to pick up supplies, so you weren’t trying to serve anyone as the reality of everything began to crash into you. 

You stop on your way to the market and let yourself sink down on a large rock not far from the road. You want to cry, but you just don’t have any tears left to give. Time and time again you feel like you were just a pawn in someone’s game. 

Anger at yourself, Xaden, and everyone that you considered a friend at Basgiath begins to make your blood heat. How could you have been so naïve?

With a tumult of emotions roaring through your body, you head back to the tavern, the market all but forgotten. A new determination coils inside your mind as you realize the only way to get through these feelings is to be useful. You want to get lost in the adrenaline of war, of putting your life on the line and not caring the outcome.

As if Red can read your thoughts, the minute you return to the tavern he is waiting with a dark-haired man in form fitting brown leathers. You pull up short not expecting to have anyone expecting your arrival.

“Ah, just who I was looking for.” Red says as he gestures for you to join him and his companion. 

You begin forward hesitantly not really knowing how to proceed with someone that is so visibly a flier. All of your instincts from years of hearing they were the enemy causing your trepidation to rise, though you try to tamp it down as Red gives you a look of assurance. You take a deep calming breath and know that you must put your trust in the man that has helped you over the last two months.  

“Y/N, this is Drake Cordella.” Red says motioning to the man next to him. Drake immediately puts his hand out to shake yours and gives you a warm smile.

“Pleasure to meet you, Y/N.” Drake says warmly, and you give him a small nod and smile in return while shaking his hand firmly.

“Pleasure to meet you as well. I’m assuming that Red has informed you on my want to join the war effort.” You decide bluntness about the whole situation is better than trying to skirt around the edges. 

“Yes, he’s filled me in on your situation shall we say.” A questioning look is immediately shot to Red who is still just smiling back at you.

“Don’t worry, Y/N. Drake is a close friend of mine. He won’t divulge any information if you wish to keep it secret.” Red reassures you letting your heart settle a little. 

“I assure you, giving up any information on you is the last thing I want to do. However, I am curious as to how things are for you since being separated from your bond for so long.” Taking a look around the tavern, you can’t help the unease that settles at talking about this topic in the open.

“Would you both mind talking somewhere a little more private? I haven’t gone this long without being discovered to out myself now.” You ask, hoping you can go to Red’s office that is at the back and soundproof.

“Of course, lets head to my office.” Red says leading the way to the back.

As soon as the three of you are inside and comfortable, you take a deep breath and share the details of the past two months with them. Divulging the way your bond seems to be underneath a glass layer or buried at the bottom of a clear lake, you can still sense the pull, but it has weakened enormously. Confirming that you haven’t been able to communicate with your dragon or even draw any semblance of power. Turning on mage lights, powering pens, opening and locking doors with magic, all seem to be lost to you with the bond being silent. 

They both seem to listen in rapt fascination. You realize it may not be ideal to tell the ‘enemy’ all this information, but you are certain that you won’t be seeing any Navarrians any time soon. While talking, you watch Drake move to brace his elbows on his knees as if you are telling the most fascinating story he’s ever been told.

“You were one of the riders that fought in Resson?” Drake questions, his face becoming one of contemplation. 

“Yes, I rescued a young girl and killed a venin before, as some would say, I deserted my riot.” You bring your head down to the floor suddenly ashamed of your actions. 

“None of that.” You catch Drake waving his hand off noncommittally at your comment. “You obviously don’t know this, but your disappearance is well known in Poromiel. I believe those in Navarre believe you are dead, at least I believe that is part of the story Riorson and Sorrengail spun.”

Your nose crinkles and stomach sours at the mention of both Xaden and Sorrengail, two names you hope you’d never hear again, let alone see.

“You see, I believe you have someone looking very intently for your whereabouts.” You can’t help the scoff that immediately leaves your lips. If there is anything you won’t believe its that anyone from Navarre is looking for you. 

“Besides, I believe your dragon has kicked up a bit of a fuss for those in the vale if the rumors are to be believed.” You stare back at Drake not believing how much he seems to know about you and your situation. Shaking your head, you decide its time to now get back down to the real business and not idle gossip. 

“Will any of that deter you from taking me to help the Poromish with this war?” You question. “You see, I don’t rightly care about parsing through any attachments to Navarre or any of the people in it. However, I do care about helping as much as I can to eliminate the threat of the venin.”

A sly smile marks a change in Drake’s demeanor moving past the questioning of your ties to Navarre. 

“I respect that is your decision. Red and I have discussed this, and I wanted to see if you would like to accompany me to Cordyn to meet my uncle.” Drake informs.

“If meeting with the Viscount is the only way that I can prove my intention to aid, then I’m ready to leave whenever you are.” The conviction in your voice makes Drake give you a curt nod, even as Red gives you a sad smile.

“Ceridwen and I are going to miss you, Y/N.” Red says sincerity lining every word. “Please know that you will always have a home here.”

Those words cause you to immediately stand and cross the room, wrapping your arms tightly around the man that welcomed you warmly into his domain. 

“No words will convey how thankful I am that you took a chance on me. Thank you for your loyalty, comfort, and love. Without those things, I’m not sure if I would’ve survived much longer.” You whisper for only him to hear. “I will be forever grateful to you for absolutely everything you’ve done for me.”

After giving him another tight squeeze, you head to your rooms to begin packing the few things that were yours. A light knock on the door brings your attention away from combing through the last of the items. Before you can say a word, Ceridwen comes in carrying a small box and a sad smile on her lips.

“Red told me that you’ll be heading out with Drake soon.” She says matter-of-factly moving to stand at your side while you give a small nod. “You may not have been with us long but know that you’ll always be like a daughter to us.”

As she finishes, she hands out the small box to you. You take it and can’t help the gasp that escapes you as you open it. Inside a black velvet box is a gold necklace with a small round pendant. You examine the pendant, and your eyebrow raises at the runes carved into one side. Ceridwen goes to take the necklace from you and places it on your neck. 

“Keep this on you at all times, especially in Cordyn.” She states firmly. “You may or may not know this, but fliers usually have gifts that entail mind work.”

She pauses as if thinking through her words as she grabs your shoulders and turns you around. “You can trust Drake, but there are those who – if they find out who you are- will do anything to make your life miserable.”

Staring back at Ceridwen, you know that the words she is giving you are for your benefit, not to scare you or coerce you to stay. 

“Thank you.” You begin as you wrap her in a hug just as fierce as the one you gave her husband. “I know we may not cross paths again, but please know how much you and Red mean to me. I told him already, but there aren’t enough thank you’s in the world to give you for everything that you’ve done for me.”

Ceridwen hugs you back just as fiercely before stepping away, you must take a deep breath when she steps back and you see the tears swimming in her eyes.

Not even an hour later, you’ve shouldered your pack and dressed in the only pants and shirt that you had which happened to be some old clothes of Red’s. As you walk out of the tavern, it’s impossible not to turn and give it a once over, committing every small crack, hole, and crevice to memory. Since you had started at Basgiath three years ago, you were unsure if you’d ever be in another place that hurt your heart so much to leave, but now here you are.

As you walk towards Drake, you can see the outline of his gryphon in the distance. The warmth and sadness that you felt leaving the tavern now turning into fear at the creature in front of you. 

Obviously sensing your trepidation, whether from your expression or the way your walk slowed, Drake holds out his hand as if in comfort. 

“I know this will be intimidating, but I promise he won’t hurt you.” Even though his words mean to placate your fear, you can’t help the raise of one of your brows in challenge.

“D-Does h-he know that I’m a dragon rider?” Your voice slides into a quiet whisper as you ask the last part of the question.

Drakes warm chuckle begins to ease the tension that has settled in your stomach. “Yes, just like your dragon, its impossible to get him out of my head.”

You look at Drake in fascination that he can seem to break the tension you’re feeling without doing more than say just the right thing.

“Are you always so comforting? Or do you have some sort of agenda here?” Your hand flies to your mouth in horror that you couldn’t stop your words. Worry is short-lived though when Drake lets out a warm booming laugh.

“I promise I have no ulterior motives.” A cocky smirk falling on his lips. “But I can’t help being born with such a charming nature.”

“And there it is.” You begin to tease as your tension continues to lighten. “I was wondering when your cocky side was going to come out.”

Without even realizing, his teasing had made you completely forget that you were headed directly for his gryphon. As you finally reach the animal, you can’t help but notice the amazing sheen to its feathers that still glints an impossible shade of gold in the moonlight. Everything about the creature seems softer than your dragon, although as you look at the talons below, you know that it can be just as vicious when it needs to be.  

Drake takes your hand and brings it to the gryphon’s face. You look at him uncertainly, your heartrate beginning to spike wondering if this is the part where you get fed to his talons and sharp beak. Although, your thoughts are cut short when the gryphon simply dips it and seems to sniff at your wrist.

“He isn’t going to bite. Gryphons just like to assess a person before they are allowed to ride. They, unlike most dragons, are willing to fly those in need of transportation, especially if their flier deems their purpose worthy.” Drake explains as he continues to hold your hand out. 

“Fascinating.” You say with no sarcasm in your tone. It’s not the first time since you left that you’ve wondered what exactly happened that caused dragons and gryphons to be so hostile to each other. However, you’re unsure if it’s the beings themselves or just the people that they bond with.

After a few minutes more, Drake drops your hand gently back to your side before taking your pack and securing it to his gryphon.

“if you don’t mind, I’d like you to sit in front of me.” Drake begins. “I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable, but the movement from gryphons compared to dragons is quite different and we don’t want you falling off.”

You shake your head and the next thing you know; he is hoisting you between the gryphon’s wings. 

“Now, you’ll need to scoot a little closer to his neck – yes – right there, perfect.” As he finishes, you are impressed with the ease in which he settles himself behind you. 

Without warning, they gryphon launches into the air, and you find yourself smacking directly into Drake’s chest. Your cheeks burning scarlet, you can do nothing but thank Zinhal it is already dark outside. 

“We’ll be flying at a lower altitude than you’re used to, so you should definitely be able to get some rest.” Drake explains, his mouth unnervingly close to your ear. 

You mentally slap yourself, but you can’t help the flush of your cheeks again. You close your eyes against the feeling, scolding yourself that it hasn’t been that long since a man has showed you attention.

You shake your head at his words and let your mind drift to the beats of the gryphon’s wings. Between the warmth of the lower altitude and the rhythmic flapping, you find yourself nodding off too quickly. 

Your consciousness slowly coming back, you snuggle into the warmth that has seemed to settle into your bones. It isn’t until you recognize the flapping of your wings that you are snapping to attention. Turning your head, you are met with Drake’s warm smile and a teasing glint in his eye.

“Have a nice sleep there?” He teases you. “I’m glad that I was a comfortable blanket.”

Your eyes widen in embarrassment as you quickly turn around back to the gryphon’s golden neck, the mortification burning in your cheeks.

Drake’s warm laugh breaks your embarrassment. “Don’t worry, it was pretty cute.”

Your head drops again in mortification, and you give a pout at his teasing, a frustrated huff leaving your lips. Though the feeling doesn’t stay around long when Drake begins to point in front of you.

Your eyes now widen, and jaw goes slack in absolute awe. Standing in stark relief to the blue of the coastline is a palace so intricate you have to pinch yourself to make sure you aren’t dreaming. As your eyes roam quickly, you can’t decide if you should focus on the intricate white walls of gleaming marble, or the pools that look as blue as the sky. Trying to count the seemingly endless number of terraces and small gardens that jut out in all directions, you have a hard time concentrating on any one piece. 

“You didn’t tell me to expect this.” Now looking down at the oversized clothes you are in, you can’t help but feel like a peasant waiting to be judged by royalty. You scoff in your mind because that is exactly what’s about to happen.

“Don’t let the palace and formality fool you. Besides, you won’t have to worry, you’re with me and I know Ceridwen gave you the necklace.” Drake’s tone is a cool calm and you try to infuse your feelings with the same. You are surprised to learn that Drake knew of the necklace but shrug your shoulders knowing that Red and Ceridwen trust him. At this point, you know there is no turning back, although there’s no certainty that you will like what will happen once you step foot in that palace.

Finally landing in a garden off to the side, you look around to see nothing but ornamental shrubs to your left and right. After years at Basgiath and life in Navarre, everything about this place seems overdone. 

Drake dismounts from the gryphon and immediately holds his hand out waiting to steady you as you dismount as well.

“Even though you aren’t a prisoner in any way. I need you to stick close.” Drake says with a serious tone. “You don’t need to fear for your life, but others may be inclined to harm you if they see you walking around by yourself in this clothing. Or at least make your life difficult.”

“What’s wrong with my clothing?” You ask indignantly.

“Nothing,” he says with slight exasperation. “You just have to understand that there won’t be anyone around the palace that doesn’t have a noble’s clothing on. Let’s just say my uncle is a fan of protocol.”

You shake your head understanding now what Drake is trying to convey. “I promise I’ll stick close by.”

Drake motions his hand for you to begin walking and he matches you stride for stride. The closer you get, the more in awe you find yourself. You come to an immediate stop as you look to your right and see nothing but a cloud of butterflies.

You hear a light snicker and turn to see Drake laughing gently at your obvious shock. “I know everything is a lot to take in on first glance, but I promise you can have the grand tour after we get you situated.”

Nodding, you continue walking into hallway upon hallway seeming to get more and more decorative as you descend into the heart of the palace. 

“Good morning, Sterling.” Drake says to a guard standing at two large wooden doors. “I assume my uncle and Syrena are behind there.”

“Yes, Captain. They are both anticipating your arrival.” As he finishes, Sterling looks back at you in judgment and you begin fiddling at his intense stare, but as a soldier he clearly knows better than have his feelings shown on his face.

Drake moves forward and opens the heavy wooden doors, moving them both to the side. You are met with an impressive study dripping with indulgences. There are crystal vases filled with exotic flowers, shelves with thousands of tomes, and fine carpets that have motifs you’ve never seen before.

The shocking details in the room cause you to completely miss the stares of the two other people. But as soon as you look back, you want to do nothing more than back away out of the room.

“Picking up strays now cousin?” The female in the room says. From Drake’s question to the guard, you realize this must be Syrena though you can’t help but bristle at her words.

“If by strays, you mean someone who has previously fought venin, then yes. If you’re just trying to be rude, then screw off.” Your eyebrows shoot up. Of all the things you expected, you never thought you’d hear someone who just met you defend your honor.

“Both of you are acting like children in front of our guest.” A clearly older voice rings out as you watch an older man step out from behind the large desk at the end of the room. 

“Uncle.” Drake says in a slow drawl. “I was in Pavis, and a friend made me aware of someone that was interested in fighting with us against the venin threat. She was there for about two months.”

“I see.” Tecarus says as he begins to walk around you as if inspecting a shiny new toy. “Does our guest possess any gifts or interesting talents?”

The drawl of his voice sounds a shiver down your spine before Drake speaks up again. “Besides combat experience, no she doesn’t possess any other talents.”

Drake looks at you as if wanting to confirm and you give him a small nod.  

“Drake says you’ve dealt with the venin before?” Tecarus asks as he continues to stalk closer to you.

“Yes.” The words leave your lips hesitantly. “I killed one in the combat that I have seen; however, I wouldn’t consider myself overly proficient.”

“Now, now dear. Don’t downplay your abilities. In fact, if the news Syrena has just brought to me is correct, you may have shown up at just the right time.” Drake comes to stand next to his uncle as he continues to make you uncomfortable with his piercing gaze. 

“What news Syrena?” Drake demands to the woman who has begun to step closer as well.

“The venin army is on the move and our intelligence tells us they may be making Zolya and the Academy their next target.” Syrena succinctly conveys the information, no emotion showing on her face.

All teasing in Drake’s face had long since disappeared. Everyone in the room tensed as Syrena continued to explain what the scouts had seen as the most recent movement. A shiver snaked around your body as the extent of the possible attack settled in your mind. 

“Are you planning on evacuating the cadets?” The question slipped from your lips before the thought even fully formed in your mind. 

The three people in the room turned to you seeming to finally remember your existence. You could see the hesitation in Syrena’s face to continue, but soon enough she was going over the evacuation plans for the Academy and the city overall. 

“I’m not a flier, but I would like to help in any way I can.” You hope that your voice is infused with the bravado that is flaring to life inside of you. 

After a few months of trying to bury your past, this seemed like the perfect way to carve out a new role for yourself. Try as you may, you hadn’t been able to get the phantom memories out of your mind. Phantom touches and small moments that had seemed so precious before only burned with dragon fire and stung as a scorpion’s tail. 

Shaking your head, you try to dispel the memories that had still been haunting your dreams. 

“If you’re willing to fight, I’m sure we can find a place for you.” Syrena confirms as Drake clasps a hand to your shoulder in acknowledgment. 

A little over a week later, you find yourself again seated in front of Drake flying towards Zolya. 

For the last week you had been working with Syrena and Drake on fighting, getting outfit in Poromish leathers, and learning as much as you could about the venin and their tactics in Poromiel thus far.

“Before we get to Zolya, we have a stop to make.” Drake says, though his tone belies there is more to this stop.

“Spit out exactly what you aren’t saying.” You spit tersely knowing there is something he isn’t saying.

“You’re going to want to stay with the gryphons and keep the hood of the cloak you have up.” He continues. 

“And you need to tell me exactly what the fuck is about to happen.” You toss back.

With an exaggerated sigh, he continues. “We’re going to pick up weapons from someone I don’t think you’re interested in seeing.”

There is no way that Drake can miss the way that your entire body stiffens like a wooden plank. Of all the things he could have told you, this was the last thing you could’ve possibly imagined. Your head whips around to look at Drake in the eyes.

“Are you telling me that you’re about to pick up weapons from Xaden Riorson.” Your voice comes out smaller than you want, but at this point you know that Drake knows exactly who you are. How would the Poromish not know when they have a bargaining chip?

Suddenly thoughts of betrayal flit across your mind, but before you can spiral too deeply, Drake breaks your thoughts. 

“I promise neither Syrena nor I will say anything about who you are. That is why I’m asking you to raise your hood, cover your face with your handkerchief in your pocket and stay with the gryphons.” You try to take a calming breath as you realize that they are both really trying to make sure that Xaden doesn’t know it’s you. 

Gods. Can you even shield anymore? You immediately begin to test your metal shields and try to reinforce them. The nostalgia that hits you at being back in your mind space is off-putting, the exercise being something you never thought you would do again. 

Sooner than you’d like, you feel the gryphons shift as they begin their descent. Without waiting, you take the handkerchief out of your pocket and tie it over your nose and mouth, after which you bring up the hood of your cloak as the gryphon hits the ground.

Drake easily dismounts and turns to assist you. “Remember, just stay here and keep your mouth closed and this will be over soon enough.” He gives your arm a small squeeze as he turns around and walks towards the small clearing. 

Your breathing begins to pick up as your eyes move to the distance in front of Drake and Syrena and see Sgaeyl and Chradh standing there, the imposing figures of the dragons causing your heart to flutter. All you can do is pray to Zinhal that neither dragon will be able to place your scent, be interested in looking too deeply into you, or tries to delve into your mind. Though no one can see you looking, you watch the entire scene take place. 

The breath catches in your throat as you lay eyes on the man that stole your heart in now what seems so long ago and in a completely different life. You keep your head angled down and let your eyes take in the sight of Garrick standing there next to him, studying them both for any injuries. You can’t say they would care if they knew you were here or not, but that doesn’t stop you from caring about their well-being.

Then the tone of Xaden’s voice brings you out of your reverie. “If you don’t stop with the attacks, we won’t have any choice but to stop the drops. Not only are the cadre already suspicious, but the higher rates in attack are making this harder to accomplish.”

“We are aware Riorson, but there is movement you are unaware of that we are currently on our way to try and contain. Actually, there’s plenty you don’t know, and frankly I’m unsure why the Assembly hasn’t been forth coming with what they know.” Syrena claps back, her tone just as menacing as Xaden’s. After spending time on the other side, you can understand the desperation the fliers are feeling.

“Look, we’ll do what we can.” Drake interrupts, breaking the tension between the two, trying to be the voice of reason. “Just know that the threat is getting increasingly worse. Besides, in two weeks’ time, we may not even be around to collect anything from you.”

“What do you mean?” Xaden asks forcing his tone to be a little calmer.

“I mean that we are trying to stave off an organized attack of a large city that will have more than devastating consequences. I’m sorry to be vague, but is your assembly’s job to inform you, not ours.” With that, Drake turns and continues back towards you.  

As if finally recognizing there is another flier in his midst, you watch with your hood covering your eyes as Xaden’s gaze flicks up to you. You don’t miss the uncertain expression on his face and the way he cocks his head slightly to the side as if trying to place you. If you didn’t know him so well, you would’ve missed the small twitch of his hand indicating he was utilizing his shadows. 

At that same moment, you blink down and see the shifting of shadows around your feet. Using every ounce of restraint, you make yourself stand completely still, letting the shadows coil around your feet in curiosity. Forcing breaths in and out, you solidify the shields you hope still work in your mental fortress as tightly as you can. 

The moment that Drake steps up next to his gryphon, you bring your head up fully and lock eyes with Xaden for one second before you turn and allow Drake to help you up. You keep your head firmly down as Drake mounts and just seconds later you are airborne.

As you drift from the meeting spot, Drake’s chuckle breaks your tumultuous thoughts. 

“Syrena is going to have her hands full the next time Riorson does a drop.” He gets out between fits of laughter. Looking over your shoulder, you give him a quizzical look.

“Oh, so you didn’t see then.” Drake explains wryly. “If I can read people as well as I think I can, Riorson either thinks he just saw a ghost or realized who you were and was so shocked he didn’t know what to do.”

Scrunching your nose at Drake’s comment you turn back to the front and let out a long-suffering sigh.

“I’m assuming that since you said Syrena, you don’t normally have any interaction with Xaden.” You ask, now wondering exactly how this whole operation works.

“No. I don’t usually have time for such things.” Drake huffs an almost indignant sound coming from him, it causes your eyebrow to quirk, but you know better than to pry too deeply.

Falling into comfortable silence, you scan your surroundings noticing the changes in topography as you glide closer to Zolya. If there is one thing you can say for flying on a gryphon is that the lower altitude gives much more visibility to the lands around you. 

As you continue to observe the landscape, the familiar sound of rushing water fills your ears between the beats of gryphon wings. Looking down, the Stonewater River flowing below you can’t be mistaken. As dawn begins to break, you take the opportunity to soak in the colors and sounds of the river below you before the chaos that you are sure will ensue. 

Before you have enough time to absorb the beauty of the nature around you, the feeling of descent makes your stomach begin to rise to your throat. As you bring your eyes to the horizon in front of you, you see the fortress of Cliffsbane Academy rising from the ground. 

The foreboding stone is reminiscent of all the times you flew into Basgiath, but for some reason the fear that used to immediately settle in your bones at Basgiath doesn’t come. Unsure if it is just you moving past the fight of living or just accepting today may be your last, you don’t know. 

As the gryphon touches down in the flight field of the Academy, you can’t help the way your head swings as if on a swivel trying to map out your surroundings. A sarcastic huff leaves your mouth as you realize you are a dragon rider now standing in the beating heart of enemy territory. You wrestle with yourself trying to figure out if this is the best idea you’ve ever had or complete madness. 

Drake immediately dismounts and pulls you down soon after. Not letting any hesitation settle into your bones, you take a deep breath and stand tall, following close behind Drake as he confidently moves towards the entry doors.

“I’ll remind you to stay close by while we’re getting directives and moving everyone into their places.” Drake warns as you both continue to stride down the halls.

“Don’t worry. I have no interest in becoming fodder for the students here who may prefer to see me dead.” You challenge back, although there is no malice there.

Before long, Drake stops in front of two large doors and looks back at you giving you a tight nod. As he opens them, your eyes widen as you take in your surroundings. The rotunda that you have entered is just as big as the one at Basgiath, but instead of dragon pillars, majestic gryphons in different states of flight line the interior. Golds, browns and whites highlight each other in alternating hues from floor to ceiling, where the colors fade into the painting of a beautiful blue sky. 

You aren’t awed for long when you hear a familiar sounding voice call out from the other side.

“Since when is picking up strays a new past time for you cousin?” A female voice purrs with a malignant sneer.

“Catriona, I’m only going to say this once.” Drake begins as he gives the similar looking female a stern look. “Play. Nice. This isn’t about you or some petty score over a man. She is here to help us, so you will treat her with respect.”

Catriona looks at you, eyes narrowed, while Drake continues. “That is an order, not a request.”

“Oh, I can play nice.” Catriona retorts though the mischief in her eyes shows you probably won’t like what follows. “Besides, what could be more of a punishment than being forgotten about not only by a man you thought loved you, but also your own dragon. You must really feel sorry for yourself to end up in flier leathers.”

You can’t help the slight flinch when she finishes her statement, though you can’t understand how she would even know what you looked like. And with that your entire being begins to feel the helplessness and utter betrayal of being left. A grief so sharp, it feels as if your heart may stop, hits you straight between the ribs causing your breath to hitch.

Drake must realize something because soon enough you watch as he grabs Catriona by the arm and gets into her face. “I said play nice. Quit it now.”

Catriona gives you one last glare before turning and walking away. You’re unsure what just happened, but the sting of her words slowly seems to lessen the further and further she gets away.

A clash of steel breaks you from your emotions at you and Drake both turn and stare at the doors you just entered through. A second later, a warning bell whistles out harshly and all hell breaks loose. You watch as flier cadets seem to come racing from all areas of the building.

“Come on, it seems we were a little later in the timing than we should’ve been.” Drake says ushering you towards the heart of the Academy. 

“It’ll be better if we separate. Where can I help in evacuating?” You say while running to keep up with Drake. 

“Follow this corridor and get out everyone that you can. Remember to use the two blades that I gave you if you come across a venin.” You nod your head sharply at the orders and immediately begin running toward the corridor assigned. 

As you go, you knock heavily on the doors before directing anyone coming out to head to the rotunda and towards their gryphons. You try to keep a tally in your head, but as you reach about twenty, your mind starts to spin. 

A dark cloud seems to enter your mind and no amount of shaking your head clears it. Continuing down the hall and constantly trying to clear your mind, you don’t notice the set of billowing robes that is at the end staring straight at you.

“Well, well. I didn’t expect to see you here.” A high-pitched shriek of a voice calls out as you open the door of the last room.

After ushering the last two cadets out, you finally look up and come face to face with the last creature you were hoping to see today.

Venin.

“See me here?” You taunt back in confusion. “You act as if you know me.”

“Oh, we always know a tortured soul when we see one. Especially one so exquisitely bleak as you.” The voice of the female venin shrieks. Your heart begins to race as you try to figure out your best way out of the situation, though things look disheartening when you realize you are at the dead end of a corridor.

“My Sage told me about the girl who was forgotten at the last battle he attended. He could feel the pain radiating off you in waves. He was very disappointed to have to leave you behind.” Everything the female is saying makes your head spin.

Suddenly awareness comes back to you, and you jerk in response to the now close proximity of the female. As you begin circling one another, the thoughts of the possible finalities of this predicament hit you. You don’t have time to dwell though as the female unsheathes a blade and goes to make the first strike.

Immediately parrying, you find yourself completely disadvantaged at the speed the female possesses. You utilize all the training you had done with Xaden and Garrick, but nothing seems to be enough to completely evade her blows. As you aim your own alloyed blade down to strike, you hiss as you feel a blade tear down your left arm. 

A fiery sting erupts from the wound as if hundreds of dragons are firing up and down your arm, but you don’t stop, you can’t. The female steps back slightly admiring her handywork which causes her downfall. You take the move for your advantage and charge directly at her. 

Even though she stepped back, your height made it easy to hit her right between the ribs. A shriek of a scream rends the air as she grabs at the alloyed dagger now protruding from her body. 

Watching as she falls to her knees, you find yourself backing against a wall, the sharp sting of scorpions radiating from your arm. Once the venin falls completely to the ground, you turn and look down. It is then you see the black that has begun to spider down your arm.

You begin to stumble back down the corridor towards the rotunda, hoping that you can drag yourself there. Movement begins to become sluggish as you get closer, hearing the battle still raging around you. Finally reaching the door, you look up and see people being directed out to the adjacent courtyard. Limping forward, you search for the familiar face of Drake.

As luck would have it, on the third pass of the hall, you finally spot him on the far corner. As if acutely aware of your stare, his head jerks up and his eyes land on you. Relief floods his face before it seems to turn to concern as you find yourself slowly sinking to the ground.

“Y/N!” You can hear Drake shout, although everything is beginning to sound far away. The harsh sounds of orders and footsteps seem to make up the background noise in your head, but nothing is clear anymore. Finally hitting the floor, you hiss out a pained breath as it begins to feel as if a thousand needles are running through your veins. 

“Y/N!” Drake shouts again and you see him materialize in front of your face. His voice is both a command and plea at the same time, though you’re unsure why.

As your vision begins to swim black, you think you hear him again. “You’ll be alright. We’re going to counteract the poison; you just need to hold on.”

The burning continues, your body convulsing with the heat of the venom in your blood. You can feel your whole-body tense as waves of fire rolls through. Darkness taking over your vision and your body beginning to slacken as the poison infiltrates your blood stream.

Each fiber of your body feels overloaded with fiery toxin and the loss of adrenaline. You try to open your eyes one last time, but your eyelids won’t obey your command, instead you find yourself slipping into oblivion.

----------

The first thing you notice is the quiet. Without opening your eyes, you listen but are only met with deafening silence. Continuing to lie unmoving, you take a deep breath before trying to open your eyes. Managing to finally get them open, though the effort seems unbearable, you are met with confusion as your eyes stare up at a beautifully decorative ceiling. 

Confusion tugs at your brain as you try to place this room that seems familiar, yet not. The decadence of the bedroom, even only by the ceiling you can see and the feel of the sheets on your bare skin, is something that seems familiar but not at the same time. Slowly, you let yourself move each one of your limbs, from your toes to your fingertips. 

You begin to move your arm and feel a lingering ache on your left. Bringing it up and over the covers your breath catches in your throat and your eyes widen at the sight. All along your arm are spidering black veins that seem to penetrate your skin.

“Don’t worry, eventually it will recede.” Immediately your head whips to your right towards the male voice. “It will take some time since we don’t have a mender and only healers, but it shouldn’t cause you any issues.” 

Your eyes encounter the warm gaze of Drake. Never before would you have thought the view of a flier would be a welcome sight, but your life hadn’t seemed to work out the way you’d thought anyway.

“H – How lo-long have I been out?” You rasp your voice scratchy with disuse and in desperate need of water.

While you finish your statement, Drake moves to the table next to the bed and brings you a fresh glass of water. You take the cup and drink greedily, the cool liquid calming the dryness.

“It’s been a week since the venin took Zolya.” Head jerking back towards Drake, your eyes widen at the revelation.

“Wh-what happened to all of those cadets?” Your heart begins to race as you panic over your life being saved over those fliers who were trying to learn and fight for their people. 

Drake gives you a knowing smile. “Don’t worry, we were able to evacuate Cliffsbane for the most part. Unfortunately, as with every battle with the venin, we weren’t able to save everyone.”

Your eyes immediately turn down at the news of the cadets that didn’t make it through the battle. This wasn’t the first time that you felt there was an unnecessary loss of life, and although you tried to make a difference, you always felt lacking.

A warm hand covers your forearm and gives a tight squeeze as you look up into Drake’s knowing eyes.

Days later, you’re finally feeling normal enough to get dressed and move about. Staring in the mirror after a shower, you begin to trace the lines of a particularly dark vein that moves across your chest to your left arm. Although you don’t feel the fiery pain that the poison elicited immediately, the phantom fire still seems to course through your veins as you trace the line. 

“It will fade soon enough.” A sharp feminine voice rasps causing you to whip your head to the right. Fighting the surprise that wants to plaster on your face, you turn to face the two women who are entering into the room you’re staying in. 

Turning around, you watch warily as Syrena and Catriona walk towards you. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company.” The saccharine dripping from your lips a stark contrast to your thoughts of the two women.

“Our Uncle seems to think we will be having Tyrrish company soon and for some reason he wants to dress you for the part of emissary.” The venomous tone Catriona adopts when telling you this information betrays her polite words.

“Dress me?” Your brows furrow at the thought. Hearing of such things happening was no surprise, however, not being part of a political family or born to royalty it was an action foreign to you. 

Syrena steps forward handing you the tunic you were about to put on. “Yes, even though he has more than enough gowns to alter in his repertoire, he wants to put you in something new.”

“Why though? What is he expecting from me?” You look back at Syrena hoping for some semblance of answers, though you’re unsure if she will provide any.

“Unfortunately, he hasn’t revealed what his plan is or what he seems to be expecting.” Syrena confirms. “Though if the consistent nagging I’ve been forced to partake in the last few weapons drops is any indication, I’m sure he’s trying to exploit Riorson’s weakness for you.”

You immediately scoff and roll your eyes at the comment. “Why would he be pestering you? He doesn’t even know I’m still alive, yet alone here of all places.”

“It seems the one look he caught at your eyes has reinforced his belief that you are indeed alive. And that I am more than aware of your whereabouts, which obviously is all correct.” Syrena gives you a deadpan look.

“But who knows why it would matter. He obviously couldn’t care less if he didn’t even notice your absence.” Catriona comments and you loathe to admit to yourself that she’s right. 

Your head begins to hang as the bitterness hardens in your heart at the thought of Xaden leaving you behind without even noticing. But wasn’t that the reason you ran? Didn’t you want him to forget? Didn’t you want to forget him? Unsure where these intense feelings of insignificance and uselessness have come from, your hand grabs at your chest as the ache intensifies feeling as if the organ may leap out of your chest. You try to calm yourself, but you can feel your breaths becoming shallow pants and the control it takes to hold in your sobs is immense.

“Cat!” You hear Syrena’s sharp tone in the background, though it seems like its underwater. “Leave her alone. She doesn’t even have her powers to shut you out.”

Words registering, you try to slam your shields up, but you can’t get past the ache and intense feelings of inconsequence.

“If she wants to be with Riorson, she’s going to have to be stronger than that.” Catriona spits back at Syrena. You try to drown the ache, but it isn’t until you hear the door slam that there seems to be a break in the intensity of the feelings.

Finally, you hear a set of footsteps approaching and look to the side to see Syrena looking at you with concern. 

“I’m sorry. I know Cat can be a piece of work sometimes, but I thought she could be more civil than that considering you saved her life at Cliffsbane.” As your breath finally begins to even out, you look to the side and chance a brow at Syrena’s words. 

“She was the last cadet you pulled out of the corridor you were in and watched you take on the venin. I thought between that and Riorson’s recent actions, she could have some compassion or at least understanding; but I see my darling sisterstill has some things to work on.” Syrena finishes as you finally have your breathing back under control.

“It’s not your fault.” You say as your breath catches again in your throat. “I know from experience how hard it can be to let somethings go.”

Syrena scoffs. “Empathy is not a quality my sister excels at, but it seems you have more than enough for the both of you. I can see why Riorson has lost any semblance of niceties now that you aren’t around.”

“I’m not sure that Xaden has a single nice bone in his body, that’s not exactly his strong suit.” You retort letting the sarcasm lace every word.

“Either way, how about you follow me, and we get you fitted for this monstrosity that I know my uncle is going to make you wear.” Syrena says while motioning you to follow her.

You try to keep your facial expressions neutral as the seamstresses begin their work, but it’s impossible. Every single emotion known to man must pass across your face because you watch as Syrena must hide her sniggers behind her hands at your antics.

“Clearly this isn’t something you’re used to.” Syrena muses as you stare down at the seamstress that is measuring from your waist to the floor.

“I would think that is obvious.” You retort as you move your arms as to not knock into one of the seamstresses scurrying around you.

“Well, you’ll get used to it.” That comment causes you to snap your gaze to the secondary heir to the Poromish throne. 

“I beg to differ. Besides, I don’t see why someone that’s fighting in a war will need a fancy gown again.” As the seamstresses finally step away from you, a deep calming breath and drop your arms as you’ve been wanting to do for the last half hour.

“You do know that Riorson is the rightful Duke of Aretia, correct?” Syrena continues as if you haven’t spoken. “When all is said and done, I’m sure he’ll regain the title, if not more. You’ll most likely be expected to dress the part next to him.”

Tripping over your feet, you barely catch yourself before you hit the ground. “What the fuck are you talking about Syrena?” You demand as your emotions begin to rise, clogging your throat with both fear and hope.

“I’m sure you’ll see.” Her cryptic response does nothing to quell the nauseous feeling that has now settled in your stomach. 

About a week later, you find yourself walking back to your room in the palace at Cordyn after your training session for the day. As you shuffle in, the armoire that houses your clothes that must be worn to formal events sits open. Walking towards the door, your eyes immediately fly wide.

Hanging in the open door is an emerald dress that is something you thought you’d only see in your dreams. The gown is made of layers of gauzy fabric with jewels encrusted over the entire bodice with twirling vines of ivy. You stare at the skirt, and you can’t help but wonder if the sheer layers will cover any part of your body. Vines run up and down the bodice with a few hanging into the layers of the skirt and fabric drapes from the bodice into a full skirt. As your eyes continue to trace the dress, you notice the sleeves that will hang off your shoulders and will at least cover some of the black veins that still spider on your arm.

Every ounce of the dress looks as if it is fit for a queen, not a mere soldier barely scrimping by. 

“I believe you’ll look absolutely stunning in that my dear.” The oily rasp of the voice behind you causes you to step back. You turn and stare back into the eyes of Viscount Tecarus.

“If my intel is correct, I believe we will be having a few guests join us this evening.” Tecarus continues coming to step in front of you. “And I’ve come here to tell you what you’re going to do.”

“I see.” You say but your trepidation is clear, even to your own ears. “And what exactly is that?”

“You will be escorted to dinner with Drake; however, you will not make your appearance known until after everyone has joined. There will be a guard to inform Drake of when to enter. You will keep to your chamber between now and then.” There is no denying the calculation that the Viscount has done.

“Once there, you will get the rest of your instructions. I’m unsure of how much Riorson knows about your whereabouts exactly, but from what we’ve pieced together he knows you’re in Poromiel. However, he has made no indication that he knows you’re here.”

“I’m not sure what exactly you think I can do for you with him. As you remember, I was left behind in Resson and from what I can tell, that was that. No one has tried to find me.” You try to explain and keep your voice level. 

As the conversation continues, it takes everything for you not to bolt from the fortress and not look back. Coming face to face with Xaden again is the last thing you want to do. 

“Yes, that may be what you think, but my dear, there are many things you don’t know.” With that, the Viscount walks out of your room but not before giving you a smile that tells you this evening isn’t going to be any fun. 

A few hours later, two ladies’ maids have come to take care of your hair, makeup, and dress you for the evening. Standing fully dressed and looking in the mirror, you are shocked at the reflection that stares back at you. 

The maids have curled your hair and left it half up and down, braids are intricately woven in and out at the top with golden chains woven throughout. Your eyes pop after having been lined with charcoal and the suppleness of your lips are highlighted the dark red of a ripe raspberry. Though the one thing that you can’t stop staring at is the dress that you now don. The emerald color complements your skin immaculately and falls to accentuate every curve of your body.  You’ve never seen yourself look so beautiful, regal even. 

“What my uncle lacks in battle strategy, he certainly makes up for in style.” Drake’s voice drips like honey behind you and you turn quirking your eyebrow. “You look absolutely beautiful, ever the regal queen.”

Even with the compliment, you give him a deadpanned look. “I’m not exactly sure how I’m going to survive this night alive.” He quips, chuckling slightly.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Your irritation barely contained.

“Riorson might just have my head for escorting you.” Drake continues with his jibes. “Especially when everyone’s eyes will be on you.”

“Ha. Ha.” You let the sarcasm drip from your lips like molasses. 

“Seriously though, I’ve already seen the riders that are joining us, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so tightly wound.”

“Him who?” The look Drake gives you makes it obvious that he knows you’re being ridiculous. Letting out a long-suffering sigh, you let yourself slouch feeling defeated even though your night hasn’t even begun.

Looking you over, Drake goes to the dressing table in your room and picks up the necklace that Ceridwen had gifted you. “I need you to remember to wear this whenever you’re around Catriona from now on, do you understand?” The serious look in his eyes causes you not to question his decree and just nod your head in confirmation.

A knock on your door breaks the silence and your heart begins to speed. Breathing has turned into a chore, and you’ve begun pacing back and forth, eyes trained down at the floor and shaking your hands as if trying to dispel the feelings you’re feeling. 

“Hey.” The sternness of the voice the only thing breaking through your reeling thoughts. 

“I know this is going to be a long evening, but I need you to breathe.” Drake soothes taking your hand in his and guiding you to slow your breathing. “Never forget that you don’t have to leave, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. If anything, you should go down there with your head held high and show Riorson the strong and beautiful woman he let disappear.”

It’s all you can do to focus on your breathing and shake your head. Drake begins to walk towards the door and holds out his arm for you to take. Letting yourself move forward slowly and continuing to take deep breaths, you try to remind yourself that whatever happens this evening doesn’t matter. Soon enough Xaden will be on his way home and you’ll be free to throw yourself into the war like you’ve been wanting to, preferably as far away from him as possible. 

Letting your mind wander, you take in the scenery of the palace as you walk. Looking to your left, you watch the shimmering coastline that seems to sparkle with the night sky, though you can feel the heaviness that is settling in the air around you forecasting the coming rain. Watching the waves crash calms your racing thoughts as you continue to walk forward on Drake’s arm.

Far too soon, you stare at a familiar set of doors and your heart has now leapt into your throat. Before the guards open the doors, Drake turns to look at you, his expression serious.

“Before we go in there, I just want to say I’m sorry for whatever happens tonight. It’s important to me that you know I had no part in whatever plan my uncle intends to carry out tonight and I tried my damnedest to keep you as far away from this as possible.” The concern in his eyes shines as he finishes talking. You have no idea what to reply, so you just give his arm a squeeze back in acknowledgement before the doors are opening. 

Turning to face forward, you take a deep, shaking breath as Drake continues to guide you forward and down the stairs. Your free hand is now balled into a fist so tight, you’re unsure if you are drawing blood or not. Descending, you can’t help but feel the weight of the stares of all the people gathered at the palace. Searching left and right, you try your hardest not to encounter the onyx eyes that you haven’t seen in months, the anxiety eating at your very being. 

Drake’s warm hand falls over yours and squeezes bringing your gaze back to his, the gesture grounds you as you continue to walk forward. The small comforting smile that he offers you helping to bring your breathing back under control and alleviate a tinge of the anxiety.

A voice breaks your gaze from Drake’s as you hear the words uttered from further in front of you. “Ah, here’s the other guest that we’ve been waiting on.”

Whirling your head towards the sound of Tecarus’ voice, the breath completely leaves your lungs. In front of you is the last person you ever wanted to see again, but you can’t tear your eyes away. 

Standing before you in a tunic tailored to every line of his body is Xaden Riorson. His hair perfectly windswept and strong features on display for all to see. Though the thing you notice most is the taught lines of his body and the way his eyes look sunken and more tired than you’ve ever seen them as he stands in front of you. The rest of the room seems to fall away as you stare back at each other, him in disbelief and you in resignation.

A fire begins burning in your chest, one you didn’t expect. Anger that you hadn’t realized you were holding onto starts to blaze as you watch Xaden. Your nostrils flare in irritation as your eyes finally move to the woman standing next to him. 

Sorrengail. 

The sneer on your lips comes unbidden, though you don’t let your eyes linger on her before looking to the two others standing next to her. Gaze going between the three, the realization hits you as you notice the similarities in their features, her siblings.

Closing your eyes and taking a calming breath, you open your eyes and bring them to Tecarus, ignoring the way Xaden fidgets as if he is barely keeping himself in place. 

“I believe now is the time to discuss the business we have here.” The male Sorrengail sibling says, obviously trying to break the tension.

You keep your eyes trained on Tecarus, but it’s impossible not to notice the way that Violet tries to get Xaden to step back, as you notice he can’t stop himself from taking steps forward. You roll your eyes at the gesture, of course she would be the one to control him.

A chill crawling up your leg causes you to shiver and look down. Unsurprisingly, shadows swirl at your feet, and you know if you parted your skirt, you would find them shifting around your legs. 

Getting pulled back slightly causes you to look down and realize the tight grip that you had on Drake’s arm as he still held your arm in his. You give him an apologetic look, but it doesn’t last when a black tendril of shadow tugs at your arm as if to pull it from Drake’s grip. 

Pivoting, you send a sharp look to Xaden, a silent command to drop his shadows. However, he doesn’t see it as he is only glaring at your hand that is still holding Drake’s arm and then back at the man himself.

“Now that all our guests have arrived, Riorson, we can continue our discussions for the luminary.” Tecarus says as if he is doing something magnanimous, causing your eyes to roll. 

Violet goes to step up and begins to raise her hands to wield, but she is quickly cut off. “No, no, my dear. I want you to wield from the beautiful arena below. In fact, I have a few things to go through before we start.”

“You,” Tecarus says while pointing to Violet. “Will head down to the arena floor and I have a target I want you to hit with your lightning. If you’re interested in bringing anyone with you, you may - except him.”

Xaden goes to step forward, but for some reason you don’t understand, he seems torn. “Don’t worry Riorson, you won’t need to move from where you are. In fact, things will deteriorate if you do.”

Your brows furrow, but soon enough you have stopped paying attention when you’re grabbed by two guards. As your head swivels left and right trying to understand, you see the murderous look that is plastered on Xaden’s face and the undeniable anger on Drake’s.

“Tsk. Tsk. Don’t move any further if you want that luminary Riorson.” Xaden’s footsteps immediately falter, but his eyes turn to anguish. 

“Fuck the luminary.” Xaden growls as he goes to take another step towards you, but he stops in his tracks when you give him a look telling him ‘No’.

“You, dear Xaden, have one task.” Tecarus looks to you, a disturbing gleam in his eye. “You cannot move from this balcony. If you dare take one step towards the arena, our dearest Y/N will fall to the arena floor.”

As Tecarus finishes, the guards, that grabbed you, push you into a golden cage. You rattle the door you were thrown in, even though you saw it locked behind you. You can’t hide the betrayal on your face and at this point you’re unsure if there is anyone you can trust. 

“That’s what you wanted. To dress me up like a beautiful bird that lives her life in a gilded cage. To dangle me for what? To prove that I don’t matter to any of them? That I don’t matter to him?” The rage building in your heart at the betrayal you’re feeling, an overwhelming monster threatening to tear the entire palace down. 

“And what can I assume you will do if I don’t follow your instructions?” Xaden growls out, the blazing hot fury causing his voice to drop low. 

“You see that’s where the fun begins.” The giddy elation in Tecarus’s voice causes your glare at the disgusting man to intensify. “We get to see who is really more important to you and you get to see what happens when you don’t follow my commands.”

You look down at the arena floor where Violet now stands with her siblings. “Now remember, the minute you make a move towards the arena, the cage opens, and you are responsible for any consequences.” The danger dripping from Tecarus lets you know that he has no intention of letting Xaden get through this unscathed and is taking immense amounts of pleasure from his plan.

Taking time to look at the cage you find yourself in, you notice the latch that you are sitting on and trace the chain that falls from the bottom to a guard standing close to you. A jerk of the cage has you jostling from side to side as the cage begins to move. 

“This is ridiculous uncle. Bring her down right now.” Drake’s voice breaks from the din of whispers that have only gotten louder since your placement in the gilded cage. 

Eyes darting from side to side, you realize that you are now not only caged, but dangling above an arena that is soon going to be covered in lightning. 

“Oh Amari.” The words woosh from your lungs as the certainty of your imminent demise begins to settle in your bones.  

The certainty solidifies as you watch guards bring a chest into the middle of the arena. Watching wearily, your eyes bulge when you watch a venin tumble from the chest. Your gaze swings back to the balcony and watch a satisfied smirk plaster on Tecarus’s face. A movement to the left has you meeting Drake’s gaze, he makes a motion towards the bodice of your dress, and you look down. Unsure exactly how or when, you find yourself in possession of one of the alloyed daggers that you’ve killed the previous venin with. It’s then you know what you must do.

In lieu of Xaden losing his life because of Violet’s death, you make the decision that you’ve been dreading. Standing in the cage and picking up your foot, you drive it down as hard as possible, the heel cracking through the latch on the bottom. 

“Y/N!” A male voice roars your name, but you don’t look to see who it is.

The sensation of falling hits you immediately, but using everything you’d learned at Basgiath, you soften your blow to the ground just the tiniest bit in order to keep from breaking anything. You roll to your feet, and curse the ridiculous dress that you find yourself tangled in. 

Although you know your exit and landing wasn’t that quiet, the venin hasn’t seemed to notice your presence. Your eyes catch Violet’s as you begin to move forward, silently conveying your command for her to keep him talking. Unsheathing the dagger that was held at your ribs, you slowly make your way towards the creature trying to keep your steps measured and slow.

The venin begins to crouch to the ground, and you know you don’t have much time.

“Y/N! NO!” The same male voice repeats, though now there is a hint of absolute desperation and panic.

Running as swiftly as you can in the outrageous skirt of the dress, you bring the dagger up in preparation to strike. Right before you make your move, the venin turns his hand jutting out and grabbing you by the neck his read eyes bulging. 

“Quite the prizes I’ve been led to. The sage will reward me handsomely for bringing both the lightning wielder and the pained one.” He hisses, spittle hitting your face. For a monstrous creature that has been denied the ability to channel for so long, it strikes you how powerful he is still, even in a weakened state. 

“I may be full of pain, but I’ll never meet your master.” You hiss breathlessly as you bring the dagger to slash the venin’s arm. Hissing in pain, the venin drops you to the ground and you cough trying to get breath back into your body.

Taking one deep drag of air, you jolt up and slam the blade of the alloyed dagger into the venin’s chest. A triumphant smile crosses your mouth, but it is short lived when you see the venin raise a dagger that you were unaware he possessed. You take two steps back before the venin slashes the blade across your chest.

“Y/N!” Violet screams, as the awaiting storm finally breaks and soaks everything. As you both drop to the ground, the bright red of the venin’s eyes turns to a dull ruby and his skin begins to grey. Landing fully on the ground, the breath is zipped from your lungs and your hand instinctively goes up to cover the slash across your chest. 

The warm and viscous blood flowing from the wound coats all your fingers as you bring them up to your face to see, the metallic smell wafting to you through the raindrops. 

“Brennan, mend her!” Violet’s voice seems further away than it was before. 

Closing your eyes, you let yourself focus on the feeling of the rain falling down your face instead of focusing on the pain of your injury. Soon enough you drift off, a sense of contentment washing over you. You may not have saved yourself, but you saved those who can better save the continent.

“Y/N, please open your eyes. Please.” A familiar male voice says in a desperate, coaxing tone, though you can’t bring yourself to obey the command. You feel a large, calloused hand stroke your cheek and then card through your hair, finally coming down to lace with your fingers.

“She’ll be fine Xaden. Brennan mended her. You couldn’t ask for her to have been seen to sooner than that.” A female voice tries to coax who you’ve realized is now Xaden.

“You don’t know that.” You can hear the frustration in his tone back at the female. “She almost killed herself trying to save you.”

Reality slams back and you now know that you won’t be opening your eyes for the two people who have haunted you for months. The last thing you need to see is the man you love with the woman that caused you to be forgotten. 

“We need to go anyway. Tecarus is expecting all of us for negotiations.” Violet tries to reason with him.

“I don’t give a fuck.” Each word drips out of his mouth with vicious certainty. A knock on a door seems to halt their conversation.

“Your presence is required for our negotiations I’m afraid.” Your emotions settle as you take note of Drake’s voice breaking the conversation.

“You can tell your fucking uncle he should be glad I didn’t send him to meet Malek today for the stunts he pulled, and I’ll come when Y/N is awake.” Xaden replies in a menacing growl, his fingers tightening on yours as if afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go.

“Look Riorson, you may not believe me, but I agree with you. Everything that happened tonight is despicable.” Drake begins catching you off guard. “But you shouldn’t spit in the direction of Y/N’s sacrifice that she made tonight by not participating in negotiations.”

“If it would be any consolation, I can stay with her until negotiations are done. If for some reason she wakes between now and then, I’ll have someone fetch you immediately. However, in hopes to move things along, we all need this discussion about the luminary to be decided upon.” Drake explains with as much diplomacy as possible.

Silence greets your ears for a few minutes before anyone speaks. 

Drake must’ve given Xaden the confirmation he wanted as a minute later you feel the hand wrapped around yours squeeze tightly and a cool feeling whisps around your wrist, wrapping in tightly.

“Fine. But I’m not leaving her completely. You’ll have to deal with a few shadows if you want me to participate in this bullshit.” Xaden says plainly, though his tone begins to darken at the end. “And you better keep your damn hands to your fucking self Cordella.”

You expect to hear the sound of retreating footsteps, but instead the bed dips and you feel warm breath ghost across your face.

“Y/N, Love, I need you to wake up for me. I promise you I’m not leaving this damned place without you awake and Malek will take me before I fly out of Cordyn without you. Please, my Blaze. Please wake up.” Xaden whispers in your ear before you feel him leave a lingering kiss on your temple. 

The bed shifts again and you hold your breath until you hear the door click shut.

“You aren’t very subtle you know. I can tell you’re awake.” The humor in Drake’s voice is dry. 

Your eyes flutter open and look directly at him. The eye roll and slight shake of your head doesn’t stop the way your mouth ticks up at the corner. 

“What can I say? I was just waiting to have you all to myself.” You tease but the smile doesn’t last as you wince in pain trying to sit yourself up. 

Looking down to the shadow at your wrist, you lift it up with a pointed look. “Did you really need to allow this?”

Drake’s laugh is cynical. “Allow? You may have heard the words Riorson just said but you haven’t been awake for the last 3 hours. If you’d seen what I have, you wouldn’t be pushing too many of his buttons.”

“I highly doubt he enjoyed watching his dear Violet’s life endangered, but I took care of it.” The flat tone of your voice giving away the hurt. 

Swinging your feet to the edge of the bed, you look down to see someone has changed you into a silk sleeping gown. Your hand then goes up as your eyes catch on the new raw scar that slashes across the left side of your chest. Trying to comprehend, you just can’t understand how you’ve evaded Malek’s grip once again. 

“Violet?” Drake chimes in as he walks closer to your side. “Is your whole existence now dependent on avoiding the fact that the man that just left this room is irrevocably in love with you?”

“Don’t.” Your voice drops to a deadly whisper. “You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to judge what I think. You haven’t been around for the last year and a half, or do you not remember that I fucking ran away from that man and my dragon.”

Your voice is gaining in its fire, and you can feel your body begin heating with the anger coursing through every nerve. 

“I-I’m sorry.” Drake hesitantly begins sounding suitably chastised. “I understand that with whatever happened between the two of you, he has a lot to explain and atone for, but did you not see how sunken in his eyes are?”

You drop your head down and let your anger fester. There is no way you’re going to let anyone make you feel bad for leaving, even though there was no mistaking the sallow color to Xaden’s eyes and deep purple smudges below them. 

“Will you at least let me tell you what happened on the balcony? At least let me give you some information before he inevitably comes back.” You give a curt nod, but only because you know that there isn’t any way you can completely evade Xaden, not now. 

“Besides, someone needs to chide you for being as reckless as you were.” Your head jerks up and the look Drake gives you shows he was vastly unimpressed with your performance. “Did you really need to try and kill both me and your shadow wielding, hot head by dropping yourself from that cage?”

You give him a dead-panned look. “What’s the difference? Your uncle dearest wanted to play games, so I bent the rules.”

With a roll of his eyes, Drake goes on to relay the chaos that you were completely unaware of, obviously too engrossed in dispatching a venin and then almost meeting Malek for the second time in just a few weeks.

 The male voice you heard shouting your name was apparently Xaden, both he and Drake, flew to the arenas edge once you started falling. Though Xaden’s focus didn’t stay long on the battle once you killed the venin and were mended, apparently turning to let his wrath at the situation out on the Viscount.

Drake imparts the threats Xaden carried out, wrapping his shadows around Tecarus’s neck and slowly constricting, and the bedlam that followed. He confirms you were mended by Brennan, as Violet had already stated, and then Brennan had carried you up the steps of the arena. 

Somehow Violet had broken through the spell of anger that Xaden was in, and he had immediately turned towards the Sorrengails. Seeing your limp form in Brennan’s arms, Drake confirmed he had taken you from him and stalked off not bothering to say anything to anyone.

“I’m unsure if I’ve ever seen the burning hatred in someone’s eyes shine as brightly as Riorson’s did tonight. I’m unsure of exactly what control he used, but if he had any less, he may have taken out the entirety of the line of succession of Poromiel.” Your head turns cocking an eyebrow at Drake’s words. 

“How exactly did I end up here? And where exactly is here? This isn’t the room I normally stay in.” You ask as you finally look around the room. 

“No, this isn’t your room. This is Riorson’s room from when he used to make regular visits to Cordyn.” Drake confirms.

“You mean when he was engaged to your cousin?” You snipe back, the bitter taste in your mouth causing you to scowl.

“Not engaged. Betrothed. Not something I chose.” Xaden’s voice causes you to jump and your head to turn swiftly towards the door that has just opened. 

The minute his eyes meet yours, the way they soften and swirl with a plethora of emotions, has your heart breaking in your chest. Your head drops down and you stand, immediately trying to leave the room. 

“No.” The word leaves his mouth breathlessly and he’s crossing the room quickly stopping you from going anywhere. “Please Blaze – please stay.”

Of all the ways you’ve heard Xaden talk, in the years knowing and loving him, you had never heard his voice so broken. 

“Why?” The word passes your lips before you can stop it, but now that it has you know there is no way to take it back. 

Pulling back from Xaden’s grip, you look up into the eyes you had been avoiding. A sigh leaves your mouth, though you can feel your chest tighten, as you see the anguish and sorrow clearly on his face. The man in front of you has never looked so lost, broken, and utterly defeated.

“Do you know how long I was waiting for you to sound so desperate for me in the last year?  To not feel like you had forgotten about my existence? Did you even realize the way you left me behind?” The questions rush from your lips in a torrent, and you have to bite down on your lips to avoid more from spilling.

Have you broken Xaden Riorson?

Is the only thought you manage to have as you watch the tears slip down his cheeks.

Your head is spinning with the emotion that is ripping from the man in front of you. As much as your brain holds onto the anger that had settled in you, your heart is shattering watching him crumble before your eyes. Your hand comes to your chest as your throat begins to close trying to hold back your own tears. 

Your vision begins to swim with tears as suddenly Xaden moves. He crashes to his knees as he grabs you by the waist crushing you to him so tightly you know there will be bruises there tomorrow, though you don’t focus on that when you hear the sob tear from his throat.

 Standing there frozen in place, your emotions war within you on whether to push him away or try to comfort him. In the end your heart wins out and you rake your hand through his hair. The gesture causes his breath to catch in his throat and his hold on you to tighten even further. 

Bringing your hand down and placing your fingers under his chin, you tilt his head up to look him in the eyes. As he does, you can’t help but trace the tears still falling from his eyes wiping them as they continue to dampen his cheeks.

“Xaden.” Your voice comes out as a calming whisper. “You need to breathe for me, alright?”

He gives a short nod as he tries to calm his breathing while still being plastered to you. Your fingers absentmindedly stroke his cheeks, keeping a steady rhythm to help soothe him. 

As his breathing begins to level, he takes both of your hands in his and kisses your palms slowly rising to his feet. 

Not letting go of your hands, he pulls you to the bed and sits you down next to him. You try to pull your hands away, acutely aware that Violet could walk in at any second, but he tightens his grip further. 

“Y- you d-don’t know h-how long I’ve been dreaming of seeing you again.” The confession comes out in a stuttered whisper as Xaden continues to pull your hands forward trying to tug you closer and calm his emotions. 

You can’t help the incredulous look you give him. After everything that had happened over the last year, you never believed that Xaden would even care about seeing you again.

“Forgive the brashness Xaden, but I have a hard time believing that with everything that happened at the end of our relationsh-.” As you finish, Xaden doesn’t try to hide the way his breath hitches as you draw a line in the sand of your relationship, but he quickly cuts you off. 

“Don’t.” The word comes out with such force you immediately rear back a bit. “That wasn’t the end. This isn’t either.” He says firmly brooking no argument. 

As he finishes, your head cocks to the side and the look you give him is filled with resignation. “I don’t think you’re allowed to make that call alone. Besides, I’m sure Violet wouldn’t want to hear that.”

At the mention of the silver-haired girl, Xaden picks up his hand and grabs your face with deliberate force, directing you too look candidly into his eyes. “I don’t give a fuck what Violet wants. My relationship is none of her fucking business.”

You scoff and try to pull your face away. “I believe it is her business if she’s part of that relationship.”

A frustrated growl slips from his lips as he gets a better grasp on your face. “I’m. Not. With. Violet.” Each word is punctuated through grit teeth.

“More fool me then. Left behind for someone you aren’t even with.” You can feel yourself getting nasty, the attitude and anger lying dormant rising to the surface.

“I’m sorry.” Between the words and the way Xaden is looking at you, it’s as if a cold bucket of water has been poured on you and doused the fire that had begun to race through your veins.

“Excuse me?” You ask incredulously, furrowing your brows because you’ve never heard Xaden say those words.

Xaden takes a deep breath, and confusion becomes shock as he grabs you and pulls you on his lap, his forehead resting on the side of your head as his hands wrap tightly around your waist. “I’m. so. fucking. sorry.” The words leave his mouth punctuated slowly as if to convey their importance. 

He raises his head, and you turn to look him in the eyes. “There aren’t enough words in this world for me to tell you how fucking sorry I am. I’ll apologize to you every damn day for the rest of our lives, but I need you with me.”

After being hurt so thoroughly by this man, you find yourself unable to stop throwing words in his face. “I’m certain that the last year has proven quite the opposite.”

Your words clearly strike a nerve when he flinches, though the movement doesn’t last long. 

“I deserve every ounce of your ire. All the pain you’ve felt tenfold.” He says simply. “And I will gladly accept every ounce of venom you can toss my way. Use daggers if you want to. Make me bleed. But please, come with me.”

“I can’t.” The words are out of your mouth in an instant. There is no way you’re just going to fold to the man in front of you. “Pretty words aren’t going to fix this.”

The look of anguish on Xaden’s face makes your gut twist and your chest feel too tight. 

“They aren’t just pretty words.” The pleading and anguish in his voice is on full display. 

“Your actions for the last year spoke louder than all the words you’ve ever told me. No matter how much I want to believe them.” An emotion flashes in Xaden’s eyes, but it’s gone before you can decipher it.

“Gods Xaden, we’re even having this discussion in a place that you’d been aiding for years, but did I know anything about it. No!” Your voice begins to rise as you gesture around the room. “You’ve been aiding Poromiel, been betrothed to an heir to the throne, and when things blew up in Resson did you even notice my reaction? Or was calming the lightning wielder down just that more important?”

“You think I don’t know how much I’ve fucked up? I’ll spend from now until I meet Malek showing you that needing you isn’t just pretty words. That all the things you didn’t know were not because I didn’t want to tell you, but because I wanted to keep you protected.” The words become harsh as Xaden’s conviction begins to solidify. “You are as vital to me as the fucking air that I breathe, and I haven’t taken a full breath since I realized you were gone. I know I fucked up for the last year. Hell, probably even longer than that, but nothing in this world is more vital to me than you.”

Your eyes dart back and forth between Xaden’s eyes looking for lies, but it hits you suddenly he looked at you the same way for years not giving away any of his secrets.

“I want to believe you. Really, I do.” You start. “But this time you’re going to have to show me, before we are anything again – if we even can be.”

“I’ll do anything you want me to do, but you have to come with me back to Aretia. I want to take you home. To my home and I want to make it yours.” Xaden has slowly walked back towards you leaving little space in between, the scent that you always associated with comfort, mint, leather and the essence of him assaults your nostrils and it takes everything you have to not bury your face in his chest.

“I’ll give you this.” You begin taking a few steps back out of his orbit. “You’ll have the opportunity to show me that what you’re saying is the truth, but I’m not coming with you to Aretia.”

His arm shoots out trying to drag you back to him, but you put up a hand to stop him. “No. If you want any chance at all, you’ll respect my decision.” 

Turning around one last time before exiting his room you look up at the man that brings you both comfort and tears. 

“I’ll always love you, Xaden.” Your voice is quiet as you leave him with parting words, sadness coloring the lines of your face. “But this time you’re going to have to be the one fighting, because I refuse to be forgotten again.”

With that, you let the door fall closed behind you but not before you see the absolute look of desperation on Xaden’s face. Walking away a few paces, you can’t help but overhear the shout of agony from the room you just left as you let the tears flow down your cheeks.

“Come on.” A gentle voice says as you continue down the corridor. Your head turns to the voice as a blanket is thrown over your shoulders and the now familiar warmth of Drake settles over your shoulders. “Let’s get you back to your room for some rest.”

Days later after the delegation from Aretia has left, you are walking in the garden trying to clear your mind from the reeling it’s been doing since Xaden stepped back into your life. As you walk, you let your hand trace over the beautiful roses that line the path, taking in the overabundance of colors that strike against the backdrop of the white palace. 

You close your eyes trying to absorb the smell of the roses and calm your racing mind, but the peace doesn’t last long. A shriek comes from inside the palace causing your head to jerk in the direction and your eyes fly wide. 

Coming in at a rate too fast to seem friendly is a dragon on a collision course with the palace. On your left and right you watch as gryphons launch in the air. You stare with wide eyes, you breath stuck in your throat, as the gryphons descend towards the incoming threat. 

Soon enough though the gryphons turn and come towards the palace as well in the formation of an escort. Your brow furrows as you wonder who exactly has returned to Cordyn so soon. 

‘No one, Loyal One. I’m here for you.’ A crisp female voice races through your mind. 

Your eyes flare as you look towards the incoming dragon, familiarity hitting you like a stone as you watch the coppery sheen of your brown swordtail coming closer and closer.

‘Dhìoch. H-how?’ You don’t need to finish the sentence of how she knew you were here.

‘Sgaeyl. You didn’t think the Brooding One was going to let you be alone with the enemy, did you?’ You mentally curse Xaden and his inability to leave well-enough alone.

‘There’s plenty he doesn’t know.’ You snark, although your mind begins to race as you realize your dragon just might burn you to the ground for your actions.

‘I see that, Loyal One. You have been busy these past months, even without any powers. I knew I was right in my choice, although many have questioned me since your abrupt departure.’ There’s no mistaking the anger in Dhìoch’s eyes as she lands in the garden, talons digging up the gently manicured bushes you were just admiring.

‘I’m sorry Dhìoch, but I just couldn’t stand it any longer. I figured you just severed our bond and found a more worthy rider.’ Even your mental voice becomes small, your own insecurities shining through.

‘You do not apologize.’ Dhìoch says surprising you. ‘Although you were reckless and abrupt, I understand why you did what you did.’

‘However, if you ever think you can leave me again, I will burn you and we will burn together.’ There’s no evading the scathing look from the beautiful, bronzed creature in front of you and there is no way you are going to challenge her threat.

‘I understand Dhìoch and I won’t allow myself to become that forgotten girl again.’ You confirm and Dhìoch sends an acknowledging hum through the bond.

With Dhìoch back at your side, you spend days working on repairing your shields and practicing your signet. It doesn’t take long as everything moves through you like a stream that had been denied water, the feeling of being whole again finding its way to you.

Syrena and Drake spend time training with you when they are in Cordyn and thankfully let you know whenever there will be a new drop of daggers. Between trying to avoid Catriona before she left for Aretia and then trying to avoid Xaden, you find yourself always playing a game of hide and seek. 

Unfortunately, when you are playing against a shadow wielder, you luck is more often than not, terrible.

“Blaze.” Your eyes immediately roll as you continue walking back to the training fields itching to get away from him. But the man of shadows will have none of it. A cool whisp wraps around your wrist and tugs causing your steps to tumble slightly backwards and into the chest of the man basically running you down. 

“Will you stop calling me that.” Your voice rasps in irritation at the man now holding you by your waist against his chest.

Before you can so much as turn, he buries his face in the side of your neck and his arms slither all the way around your frame before you hear a breathy response. “No.”

“Why?” You ask tersely as you try to pry yourself free.

“Because there is no alternative I will accept, then you burning with me. You’ve always been an all-consuming flame, whether passion or hatred and I’ll never let your blazing glory go.” Xaden says, his lips brushing your ear as he speaks.

Huffing, you are finally able to tear yourself from his grip. “Is there something you needed? Or are you just here to torment me?”

You don’t miss the way he flinches at your scathing tone, but you’re in no mood. 

“I’m making another drop.” He says simply.

“Aren’t there other people in this group of yours that could do such a menial task?” You ask as your hand gestures about showing your aggravation.

“Of course there is. This man just can’t help himself from being subjected to your company.” Drake interjects as he walks next to the both of you earning a glare from Xaden and an eye roll from you.

“Well let me not subject you to anything, I was just on my way out.” 

“Wait.” Xaden stops you with a hand wrapped around your wrist.

“What? Sgaeyl didn’t give you your report from Dhìoch?” His eyes flaring the only indication that he knows what you mean.

“Exactly. Don’t think I don’t know why my dragon suddenly knew where I was.” You say pointedly. “I’m going on patrol, Drake, I’ll be back later.”

“I’ll come with you.” Xaden says walking to your side.

You whir on him and a sneer leaves your lips. “You, sir, are not enrolled in service to the Poromish, so I don’t think you will.”

“No, I’m not, but I wasn’t asking your permission either.” Xaden steps into your space and you immediately let go a growl and stomp away in the direction of your dragon.

As you make it to the flight field of the palace you can’t stop yourself as you turn. 

“What are you trying to accomplish?” You challenge.

Xaden huffs his own frustrated sigh, raking his fingers through his hair. “I’m trying to prove to you that you are my fucking world. But for some reason, you won’t give me the time of day.”

A humorless laugh leaves your lips. “I won’t give you the time of day. That’s rich coming from you.”

Xaden finally realizes exactly what he said and immediately turns sheepish. You just roll your eyes at the brooding idiot in front of you.

“Let’s go if you’re coming.” The exasperation in your voice is high as you acquiesce to Xaden. His eyes immediately light up and he pulls you to him placing a lingering kiss to your hair. A breathless ‘thank you’ leave his lips before he turns and seamlessly mounts Sgaeyl. 

You shake your head at the last few minutes and immediately mount Dhìoch for your patrol.

This process now seems to repeat every time Xaden makes a weapons drop to Cordyn. Though you get a reprieve for a week at a time when he is clearly stationed at an outpost. 

Walking into a strategy meeting, your brows furrow as you look at the serious looks on the faces of Syrena and Drake. Looking between the two, you know whatever they are discussing isn’t going to be good news.

“Some intel we have seems to point to them heading to Pavis for some reason.” Your ears immediately perk up at the mention of the town you spent weeks in after Resson.

“We are spread thin though, we can only spare one or two fliers to station there.” Drake says not taking his eyes off the map.

“Send me.” There’s no hesitation in your voice as all three heads turn your way. “I’ll be reinforcements. Besides, the only thing going on here seems to be wyvern patrols.”

“Are you sure you’re up for that? We won’t have much back up for you.” Drake questions as he studies you.

“I’m sure. I owe it to the people of the town that took me in without question.” The finality of your voice must convey your seriousness.

“Alright. Though you may need to go alone at first before we can split a squad.” Syrena says as if that would change your mind.

“That’s not a problem. I’ll go start packing.” Immediately rising, you walk briskly towards the bedroom that you’ve called home the last two months.

“Are you trying to avoid a certain shadow wielder’s drop tomorrow?” Drake says as he leans in the door frame. A huff leaves you as you shake your head at his question. 

“No, actually. This has nothing to do with him. I owe Red and Ceridwen more than they’ll ever realize.” You stop packing to look back at Drake. The thought of seeing the people who became surrogate parents spurring your rush. “I’ll do everything I can to make sure they are safe.”

Drake gives you a knowing smile while pushing off the door. “I know you’ll take care of them the best way you can.”

As he turns, he throws over his shoulder, “though I don’t know how we’ll survive when your incendiary loverboy finds out you aren’t here.”

The comment causes you to burst out in a fit of laughter before replying. “Oh, I have faith that you can figure it out.”

Drake waves you off as he continues down the hallway and you go back to packing.

A few hours later you find yourself taking a deep breath and enjoying the freedom of flying, while trying to stop from thinking about what you may be walking into. As Dhìoch begins her descent, you cannot help the beaming smile that lights your face seeing the tavern in the distance.

‘Do you think you’d be willing to meet the people who took me in?’ Hesitently asking Dhìoch down the bond.

‘I’d be willing to show my appreciation to the people who looked after you.’ Dhìoch hums in response and your smile grows a little wider.

Dhìoch comes to a stop not far from the front of the inn and you dismount quickly hoping to alert the owners inside without drawing too much ire from the rest of the residents. As you step into the tavern, the smell of roasting meats and stale alcohol hit your nostrils and your nose scrunches in memory.

Noting the lack of either of the people you are looking for, you knock on the bar and call out in a harsh voice. “Can’t anyone get some service around here.”

The heavy thump of a cup hitting a table makes you smirk as you watch Red come from the back, a look of irritation on his face. Though the look doesn’t last long as the minute he recognizes you he smiles widely almost as if welcoming hope his daughter. The warmth that settles in your chest has you smiling right back to him. 

“Ceridwen.” He calls to the kitchen. “Come and see what the gryphon dragged in.”

“What are you talking ab-“Ceridwen’s words are cut off as she sees you standing at the bar. “Oh, my dear, I’m so happy to see you.”

It takes less than ten seconds to be swept up into Ceridwen’s hug as you hear Red’s warm laugh behind you. You haven’t smiled so much in the last few months, let alone the last year. 

Your heart continues to warm hours later as you sit at a table in the tavern deep in conversation with the two.

“If I would’ve known that introducing you to Drake would put you in so much danger, I would’ve contacted someone else.” Red grumbles next to you. 

“You can’t blame it all on Drake, I did ask and require him to take me.” Your reassurance does nothing to quell Red’s thoughts on this issue if his huff is anything to go by.

“So how long will you be here?” Ceridwen asks though you can see the worry in her eyes.

“Hopefully not long, and if we are lucky, the intel that was given is false.” You say as you smile, but this time it doesn’t reach your eyes.

“Either way,” Red says, clapping you on his back as he begins to walk towards his chambers. “We’ll sleep better at night knowing that you and your dragon will be here watching out for us.”

You squeeze Ceridwen’s hand and send them both a small smile as you begin to turn and walk to your own bed. As you sink into the mattress you can’t help but take a deep breath, relishing in the warm feeling of familiarity and comfort.

True to their words, a few days later a pair of fliers come into the tavern looking for you, relaying your orders from Drake. Though you look up in shock when the man himself walks into the tavern not long after they had finished.

“Why are you here?” You ask in obvious confusion. “Jesper and Tusarr just told me everything I needed to know as far as orders.”

“Wonderful.” He clasps his hands, and you can see the agitation rolling off him only causing your confusion to continue. “I’m glad that has been cleared up, but that isn’t why I’m here. Unfortunately, I’m here on a personal matter regarding you.”

You quirk an eyebrow in invitation for him to continue.

“I don’t know what magic you’ve used, but it seems we’ve almost had another international incident with your rabble-rousing paramour.” You honestly feel like you’re in some sort of book, shaking your head slightly, Drake must be joking.

“The shadow wielder just about tore down the entire palace when he learned you weren’t in Cordyn. Though with his temper there was not time to explain to him that we knew where you were.”

Now a humorous smile is stretching across your face, and you can’t help when the laugh you’ve been trying to hold in bubbles out.

“I knew that you could embellish things, but this seems extreme, even for you Drake.” You say between laughter as your hand comes up to grasp Drake on the shoulder. Though your laugh begins to die down when you see the look on Drake’s face.

“O-Oh.” You stutter in amazement. “You really are serious.”

The indignant scoff he gives you is only broken off by the slamming of a door against the tavern wall. You both turn your head quickly as the air in the tavern turns icy with anger. 

“Why are you always with him?” The question comes out in a growl as the disgruntled man stalks towards you as if he’s the predator and you’re his prey.

Your eyes flash in challenge, after everything over the last year, you refuse to back down. 

Turning away from Xaden, you direct your next statement to Drake. “Thanks Drake. I’ll take it from here and I’ll speak with you again before you leave regarding the next few weeks.”

Drake gives you a curt nod and a small uptick of his mouth, turning away from Xaden and back out the door of the tavern. Taking a deep breath, you slowly turn your head and look up to meet the stare of the most insufferable man in your life, at the moment at least. 

“What the fuck is your problem?” You snap at Xaden while straightening your spine. You relish in the surprise that flashes in his eyes when you step up into his space. 

“My problem. You just fucking left Cordyn and didn’t say a fucking word.” Xaden gets out between grit teeth.

“Here’s the problem Xaden.” Your tone short. “You think you have a say in where I go. You aren’t my wingleader anymore. I do not report to the cadre at Basgiath or in Aretia or whatever the gods names you are part of, so I don’t see where I’m stationed or move to is any of your business.”

You watch as his jaw ticks and you can feel the tension in his muscles from where he stands close to you. 

“I am more than aware of all of that. I am aware that I have no right to know where you are.” The anger in his voice is present, but his eyes tell a different story. In his onyx depths you can see the fear and panic swirl in and out of their golden flecks. “But for my own fucking sanity, I need to know.”

The last part comes out as little more than a whisper. An admission that looks like it may have cost the man in front of you his entire being. Xaden takes a shaky breath before closing his eyes.

“I have no right to demand anything from you, and I know that. But I about went out of my fucking mind when I searched for you, and you were nowhere in Cordyn.” He takes a small breath before the emotion clogging his throat stops him.

An arm shoots out and forcefully pulls you forward, his arms wrapping around you in a vice grip. “I ca- I can’t lose you like that again. You can’t just disappear.” The last part is a whisper in your ear as his face comes to burrow in your hair.

You stand there for a few moments unsure exactly what to do. After the night in Cordyn, you thought the way Xaden acted was just from the shock of finally seeing you again, but with this, you realize there is something more to it.

Finally giving in for just a moment, you bring your arms around Xaden’s waist and return the hug. You hear his breath hitch from where his face is still buried in your hair and his arms hug you tighter. 

“Truthfully, I wasn’t trying to hide from or scare you.” You tell him, your tone gentle. “There’s been intel given and I chose to come back here. This place is special to me.”

Xaden picks up his head looking at you with furrowed brows as you finish and give a labored sigh. 

“After I left Resson, I traveled on foot for a few days and found myself here. I worked in this tavern for a few months before the owner, Red, put me in contact with Drake to assist with the war effort.” Xaden watches you explain, and you see the hurt on his face at your tale of your own exploits after Resson. 

“Someone could’ve killed you if they knew you were a rider.” Xaden’s panic is palpable, and you huff a laugh.

“At the time, I didn’t really care.” Xaden’s eyes flash before he’s dragging you into another hug, crushing you even harder than before.

“Though I have to ask one question.” You say as you pull away from Xaden’s hold. “If I didn’t disappear, would you be acting this way? Would you be fighting for me like you are now?”

The look on Xaden’s face makes you shake your head and move a few steps away putting much needed space between the two of you.

“Exactly.” Resigned, you continue, maybe because you want to add salt to the wound making him suffer like you did. “While I was here, I was welcomed. Hell, I’d go out on a limb and say I’m loved. And you dare to be jealous of Drake, when he’s done nothing but look after me for the last few months.”

“Gods Xaden. Is there any us to go back to?” The bitterness in your voice cutting like the blade of your sheathed dagger.

“Don’t say that.” Xaden utters, a quiet plea.

“Why? It’s the truth. You’re trying to atone for something that I don’t even know if we can get past. How can I trust that when push comes to shove, I’ll be your priority?”

“Fuck! I know!” He says, his anger getting the best of him. “Do you not understand how angry I am at myself for the way I treated you. For the way I let you be left behind.”

Xaden begins pacing franticly in a way you’ve never seen before. “I’ve woken up every fucking day – when I did even fall asleep - replaying all the fucking ways I’ve failed you. The one person I never wanted to neglect; is the one person I wholeheartedly failed the most.”

“And no, I can’t change all my shitty actions. I can’t do anything but try to gain your trust back for the rest of my fucking life. I would gladly take a scar for every way that I’ve hurt you than lose you forever. You are the only sunshine I’ve found in a life that’s been filled with nothing but rainstorms and darkness. I’ll do whatever I can to prove to you that I’m worthy of you. That you are my only priority.” As he was speaking Xaden grabbed your hands in his and continued to drag his thumbs over your wrists, grounding you to the feeling of him. 

Tipping back your head and closing your eyes to take a moment for yourself, you try to clear your mind from all the hurt that you’ve felt. To wade through the overwhelming swath of emotions. 

But your head jerks up and eyes go wide as you hear the sirens blare. Pulling your hands from Xaden, you yell for Jesper and Tusarr telling them to find Drake.

As you sheath the few weapons you had left behind the counter, you look back to Xaden. “We can discuss this more later, but you need to leave. That’s the attack siren and if Dhìoch is correct we only have about twenty minutes.”

He looks at you with steel in his eyes. “I’m not fucking leaving.”

“Yes, you are.” You say back with finality. “You aren’t even supposed to be here and this isn’t your fight. You need to get back to your own riot.”

“I’m not fucking leaving you here to fight alone.” Xaden hisses through grit teeth as you both walk out of the tavern.

You turn and pull him down by the lapels on his jacket. “Yes. You. Are.” Steel in your gaze and words. “This is not your fight. This is Poromiel, not Navarre, not Aretia, not Tyrrendor. Go home and defend it.”

You let go and get two steps before his hand wraps around your wrist and pulls you backwards. 

“I’m going to get the rest of my riot from Draithus and will be right back.” He explains, his face directly in yours. “Do not be reckless.”

Before you can give him a sarcastic sass back, you are plastered to his chest, his hands in your hair at the nape of your neck, and he’s kissing you with a ferocity you’ve never felt from him. You gasp as the kiss ends as quickly as it began and he’s tearing himself away and mounting Sgaeyl.

You blink a few times and then shake your head, trying to clear it before running for Dhìoch. 

‘You need to clear your head for battle.’ Dhìoch sasses, clear amusement in her tone.

‘And you need to learn to tell me when Sgaeyl is here and bringing around her infuriating rider.’ You snark back with an irritated sneer to the back of your dragon’s head.

‘He may be infuriating, but he still has your heart racing.’ You roll your eyes at your dragon’s need to maneuver in to your personal life. 

Your banter with your dragon is cut short when you see an entire hoard of wyvern in the distance heading straight towards Pavis. 

‘Are you ready for this Dhìoch?’ You ask, your mind calculating on the best ways to strike.

‘We will not fail. Now brace yourself Loyal One.’ Dhìoch says before shooting straight towards the hoard.

Your heart rate kicks up as the prospect of your first battle back with your dragon begins. 

‘Can you relay the information to the gryphons to help evacuate the citizens and we’ll handle the hoard?’ You direct.

‘Done, they are working to put them in the safe houses.’ Dhìoch confirms as she cuts through the air with a precision you admire. 

As you get closer, your eyes widen at the amount of venin atop the wyvern. You try to count, but you lose it at five. Gears clicking in your mind, you take a mental tally of the alloyed daggers you have on you and know you must keep them close. Having only three will limit your ability to throw. 

‘Are you ready Dhìoch? I’m going to need you to fly as close to the wyvern as possible.’ You ask as you go over the plan in your head.

‘I don’t believe the Brooding One would agree with your plan, but yes we will take these abominations down.’ You ignore Dhìoch’s tease and reach for her power.

As you feel the sensation of her power fill your veins you look down to see your fingers disappear from view. Once you can feel yourself fully cloaked, you carefully stand and walk as close to the juncture of Dhìoch’s leg and wing. As Dhìoch begins to hover, you duck to avoid scorching blue fire as it sizzles through the air above you and immediately slide down off her back.

Landing on the back of one of the smaller wyverns, you crouch and try to gain your balance as best as possible. The small form in front of you wears purple leathers and you assume this must be one of their students. Without giving the venin time to turn around, you fling one of your three daggers and hit it in the back of the neck. You watch as the blood flows and the venin goes limp. Before you can jump, you feel the wyvern you are on begin to rapidly descend. 

Immediately rising to your feet, you don’t think and just jump though you know you are too close to the wyverns falling body.

‘Dhìoch!’ Your mental voice is panicked as you are unsure where your dragon is currently. The panic doesn’t last long as you suddenly feel talons wrap around you. Drawing a ragged, grateful breath when you see the coppery sheen above you.

‘You should trust me more than that.’ Dhìoch says in an offended tone as she tosses you up and catches you on her back.

Scoffing, you can’t help but roll your eyes. ‘Yes, well I wasn’t expecting that wyvern to go into freefall.’

You get back into your seat and Dhìoch begins to climb above the battle again. Looking down, you can see a venin on the way into the heart of town. Panic begins to rise when you realize that Ceridwen and Red are in the perfect collision course for the venin.

‘You must take me down Dhìoch. I won’t let anything happen to them.’ You can feel your terror begin to take over at the thought of something happening to the couple that took you in.

‘Get them out and then come right back. I will not let you get drained on the ground.’ Dhìoch growls, her disapproval evident. 

Dhìoch begins her descent, and you know this will be a running landing. Throwing up a quick prayer to Zinhal, you rise from her back and head back to her shoulder. As she hits to the perfect height, you let yourself fall and with more ease than you expected, you are immediately running towards the tavern. 

“Red! Ceridwen! Get out now!” You yell at the top of your lungs racing for the front of the tavern. 

Ceridwen darts out of the front door with a small satchel in tow. Behind her your eyes widen as Red dons his brown leathers and is sheathing a sword to his back.

“You should be taking shelter with Ceridwen!” You yell at him as soon as he’s in earshot.

He gives you a look that shows he is anything but impressed. “No, I should be fighting for you and Ceridwen both and that is what I intend to do.”

Ceridwen comes next to you and puts a hand on your forearm. “You’re fighting a losing battle my dear, so instead of wasting any time, let’s go.”

You shake your head and begin pulling Ceridwen along. ‘Dhìoch can you tell Tusarr to help get Ceridwen to safety.’ A low growl in your head is the only response before you hear the screech of a gryphon landing. 

“Go with Tusarr, she’ll take you to the others. I’ll take care of Red the best I can.” You say to Ceridwen before she tugs you close in a tight hug.

“Take care of yourself, my dear, and don’t worry about Red, he can take care of himself.” She says before letting you go and repeating the same process with Red.

‘Alright Dhìoch, let’s take down some more of these dark wielders.’ You say as you run towards an opening for Dhìoch to land.

As you see her scales come into view, you turn, and your eyes fly wide. In the few minutes since leaving Red behind a venin has materialized and is staring him down. Letting Dhìoch’s power flow, you mask yourself and begin sprinting toward Red’s side. 

Getting closer you see him locked in battle and as much as you don’t want to admit it to yourself, his strength seems to be waning. 

Your heart stops and eyes go wide as you watch the venin slash down Red’s arm with a dagger that was just dripping with a green liquid.

“NO!” The scream rips from your lips as Red slashes his sword towards the venin slashing at its throat. As you slowly get closer you can see Red’s movements becoming sluggish.

Please Malek, no! Take me instead!

‘Dhìoch you need to get Red to the healers and tell Drake to get him healed.’ You demand of your dragon. 

Not taking your eyes from the venin still managing to stand, you stalk forward, cloaked and invisible. Your face contorted in rage, you continue running and pull the alloyed dagger from your ribs. Without stopping, you barrel into the venin with your dagger leading straight into his chest. The venin hisses at the impact and the dive of your blade. Blood rushing in your ears, you fall with the venin, and it isn’t until you roll, now looking up at the sky that a familiar burning pain breaks through at your wrist.

You don’t need to look down to know that some of the poison is now in your system, but you won’t let them win. You won’t let the venin take Pavis without a fight. Slowly rising to your feet and looking at your surroundings., the town that you have loved is now alight in flames surrounded with a thick smoke, suffocating the beautiful town center. 

‘I am on my way to you, Loyal One.’ Dhìoch confirms as you begin to jog towards an area for her to land.

As soon as you see Dhìoch’s talons hit the ground, you start running for her leg. Your breathing is coming in rapid pants as you try to ignore the burn in your arm. 

‘You need to be seen by a healer as well.’ Dhìoch growls as you tear a strip from your shirt and wrap your wrist.

‘No. I will save these people first, with or without your help.’ You demand without feeling any remorse for your biting tone.

You can feel Dhìoch’s displeasure at your response down the bond, but she doesn’t press. Instead, she flies back into the din, the stifling smell of smoke rising from the ground and clouding your vision. As though Zinhal hears your pleas, there is a break in the smoke on the horizon and you spot a venin with its robes billowing in the wind.

‘That one’s next.’ You refuse to hear any argument from Dhìoch as you set your sights on the enemy in front of you. Dhìoch slices through the air and as you grow closer to the venin, you can see the brilliant red that spiders from the creature’s eyes down the sides of its face.

Dhìoch clearly has read your intentions and begins her ascent to hover over the massive wyvern that has your next target. As she levels out, you begin to lower to her shoulder but can’t bite back a sharp intake of breath when your wrist moves, the poison making its presence known. You try to avoid the sting and crouch before launching yourself from Dhìoch’s back.

For a few seconds you are airborne and hoping that you estimated the correct spot. You don’t have long to worry as you feel your feet hit the leathery surface of the wyvern. You let your entire body drop as you try to gain your balance on the creature. 

Looking up, your eyes fly wide realizing that the venin can see you and is looking directly into your eyes.

“Ah, the pained one again makes an appearance. Tell me, do you really think you can win this challenge?” The oily voice that drags from the venin in front of you draws shivers down your spine.

You don’t respond as you know there is no reason. The venin slowly stalks towards you, wind whipping at their robes with two blades drawn. Assessing the way the venin moves; you know that you’ll have to be quick.

‘Make sure you’re below me Dhìoch, just in case.’ You hear the hum of agreement in your mind as you draw your blade.

‘Dispatch the dark wielder quickly. You need to get back to the flyer captain.’ You hear the slight concern in Dhìoch’s voice.

You continue using Dhìoch’s power to remain cloaked, although you’re unsure of how much use it Is against the venin. Creeping forward you hold an alloy hilted dagger in your right hand. Letting the thought linger too long, you must go on the defensive when the venin strikes first, and the bite of a dagger slashes close to your face. 

Ducking down, you feel your foot slip slightly on the leathery back of the wyvern. Without thinking through your moves, you slam a dagger into the back of the wyvern to avoid falling. The minute it embeds, the wyvern bucks and you can do nothing but hold on as best you can, your wrist burning with fury. Regrettably, the venin does not seem to be affected by the wyverns thrashing. You watch as they continue to get closer and try to throw your right leg up and regain your balance. 

Pulling yourself up, you don’t see as the venin brings one of its blades down and though you move quickly, it isn’t quick enough to evade the blade completely. An agonizing scream tears from you as the blade pierces your side.

‘Loyal One, finish it!’ Dhìoch demand is covered in icy dread as you try to push past the pain. 

Taking as deep of a breath as you can, you gather your remaining strength and duck as the venin goes to slash at your other side. A loud roar sounds that causes the venin to turn its head and you take the opportunity to bury your remaining alloyed dagger into its throat. 

The venin coughs and sputters grabbing at its throat, but you watch as the skin around it begins greying and shriveling.

“You bitch!” The venin gasps and lunges towards you. Losing your balance, you trip backwards and find yourself falling from the leathered surface of the wyvern. A particularly fiery jolt of pain slashes through you as you begin falling and you watch as your arms raise, and you can see you are no longer invisible.

“Y/N!” A voice calls in the distance and you turn to see a blur of blue. As your mind is drug down with poison, you barely have the cognizance to call out for Dhìoch. 

You hear air furiously whipping around you and all the breath tumbles from your lungs when you hit a rough surface hard. The impact has your vision going completely black as your body jerks from the impact. 

With all the poison coursing through your veins, it proves impossible to open your eyes, but you can feel that your body is still rolling. The only thought left is that those you care about are safe before you succumb to the darkness.

You feel your consciousness pull forward, even though your body feels like a thousand weights are tied to it, even your eyelids feel tethered. The roughness that you remember last seems to be replaced with something soft and the fire in your veins only a light hum. The exhaustion of your mind and body don’t keep your conscious state around long as you feel yourself drift again. 

Unsure of how long you’ve been in a state of poisoned dissidence you finally feel as if you can move your small extremities. You take the time to try and wiggle your fingers and toes, but your eyelids still feel like they have anchors attached. You try straining to hear any sounds around you, but everything still feels slightly muffled.

“How long is this going to take?” An impatient male voice penetrates your ears.

“That’s not something I can predict. I can’t mend the poison from her system.” Another male voice replies in exhaustion.

“It’s been over a week. It didn’t take this long when Violet was poisoned.” Confusion swirls in your brain as you try to place the name that seems so familiar. 

“I understand, but poison doesn’t affect every person the same. Besides, from the light discoloration from her veins on her left arm, it seems like this has happened before.” The exhausted male voice replies.

You can hear as the pacing footsteps suddenly halt. “What?!?” The other voice says a tone that seems slightly panicked but also filled with fury.

“Didn’t you notice the black veins running down her arm while we were in Cordyn. They stood in stark relief to her skin and that dress.” You’d give anything to move your body, wanting to wrap your arms around yourself in soothing gesture at the conversation you’re hearing.

“I was a little busy trying to keep myself in one place and not forcefully pick her up and leave with Sgaeyl, so no, I suppose I didn’t notice.” Realization hits as now you realize its Xaden’s voice you’re hearing. “Besides, why would that matter, that was over a month ago now.”

“Yes, but her body obviously wasn’t recovered from that poisoning, so now it’s taking longer.” The other male in the room has a voice that sounds familiar now, but you still can’t place it.

“And I’m going out of my fucking mind. I’m being ordered to Draithus again tomorrow and I can’t leave not knowing if she’s going to be okay.” Xaden’s voice becomes tight with worry and frustration.

“Unfortunately, Lieutenant, you don’t have much of a choice. You’re going to be leaving tomorrow with Sgaeyl and you’ll have to deal with it.” The voice has grown hard, both with weariness and aggravation. 

“Don’t fucking try me, Brennan. You won’t fucking win.” Xaden challenges.

“Oh, I don’t have to try you. Lieutenant Colonel, remember?” With that last statement, you hear as footsteps sound and a door clicking shut behind them. 

As you begin to feel the eternal pull of sleep weighing on your body again, you notice the bed you’re in dip down slightly. 

“Blaze, I need you to fight this. I need you with me. You can’t leave me again, not like this, not before I can show you how much I love you.” There’s no mistaking the pain in Xaden’s voice and the way it breaks in and out. It’s clear that he’s barely holding himself together, but the pull of darkness is too sweet to deny.

 

Taking a deep breath, you finally feel the ability to flutter your eyes open. Though as you do and stare up at the ceiling, everything still feels foggy. You’re unsure of how long you just lay there with your eyes open, but eventually you gather enough strength to sit up. 

Looking around, your brow furrows trying to place the room you are in. It’s well appointed, but there’s no white marble and blinding gold, this chamber is pure stone with tapestries lining the wall generating some warmth to the space. You look up at an armoire that is at the side of the room and turn to see a door that you assume must be a bathing chamber. 

There is a large green chair that has been posted next to the bed as if someone was sitting there waiting for you. You close your eyes as you try to clear the fog that still clings to your brain and memories. The action feels like wading through waist deep water, and you can’t help the confusion that seems to settle.

Brows furrowing you try to remember the last place you were, because you know it wasn’t wherever this is. Looking down, you see that you’re in a pair of loose-fitting black pants and oversized shirt. Running a hand through your hair, your nose scrunches at the greasy feeling of your hair. Whatever has happened in the last few days, the only thing you want right now is a nice long shower.

Slowly picking your overtired body from the bed, you shift to a standing position. Trying your best not to wobble, you walk into the bathing chamber and immediately spot the shower and take a deep breath. Hobbling straight over, you turn the taps and let the warm water run through your fingers relishing in the feeling. You let yourself relax into the shower and hope to Amari that the water will wash the fog of your mind. 

Grabbing a towel and drying yourself, you walk towards the mirror and place your hands on the sink sucking in a breath and letting the granite hold your weight. The peace that settled into you during your shower is short lived as you look up into the mirror. 

Gasping, you fumble backwards, and your hand flies up to your chest. You watch the mirror as your fingers trace the scar on the left side of your body and the lingering blackness. Eyes flying wide, the memories of the battle rush back in a torrent causing you to move. 

You go back into the room, the peace of the shower completely gone, and search for clothes. You see riding leathers that look to be about the right size and immediately begin tugging them on your body. Lacing your boots with as much efficiency as you can master, you are shooting up, not concerned about your hair or the fact that you don’t even know where you are. 

Only one thought is pulsing through your mind. ‘Is Red alright? And where is Ceridwen?’ The thought leaves unbidden, and you pull up to a halt at the bottom of the stairs when there’s a response.

‘They are both safe and resting in a small cottage in town.’ Dhìoch’s voice slithers quietly into your mind.

‘Can you take me to them?’ You ask as everything hits in succession.

You know you must look like a crazed fiend, but your emotions are hitting you from every side and you need to see they are safe for yourself. There’s a minute where you think Dhìoch will deny you, but then you just ignore her and begin back down the stairs and sprint out large doors. 

Unsure where you are and where you are going, you turn and see a small town in the valley below. Turning back your eyes widen at the stone fortress that you just exited from. 

I’ll worry about that later. Is the only thought you have as you begin walking towards the town below. You have no idea where you are going, just that you need to lay eyes on the two people that saved you from yourself.

As you begin to enter the thick of the town, you wrap your arms around yourself as you brace from the cold wind that has begun whipping around you. Arriving at the heart of the town, you enter into one of the taverns. 

“Excuse me.” You say as you walk up to the barkeep. “Do you happen to know if there was a couple that was brought to this village from Pavis a few days ago? Their names are –.“

“Y/N!” You cut yourself off as you hear the familiar voice yell your name.

“Ceridwen!” You yell back and instantly run towards her and embrace her in a bruising hug. 

“Thank the gods! We’ve been so worried about you.” She gets out in a rush parsing over you as if looking for injuries.

“I’m fine. How are you? Is Red alright?” The rush of your words and panic in your eyes makes Ceridwen soften her eyes at you.

“Thanks to you.” She says as she grabs you by the arm. “Come. I know he will be ecstatic to see you finally awake.”

She leads you back out into the town and the tension in your chest begins to ease slightly at her warmth. A small smile spreads on your lips as you get closer to a small cottage closer to the outskirts of the town. Hope fluttering in your chest as Ceridwen goes to open the wooden door and you can’t help but notice the green roof that seems to line every house you’ve passed.

“Ceri did you happen to get any eggs while you were out.” A male voice calls that immediately has you taking a breath of relief. 

Walking further into the room, a beaming smile spreads across your face that you can’t control. 

“Thank the gods!” Red says in a breathless whisper before tugging you into a fierce hug.

You let your body slacken as the relief of seeing them both crashes over you, Ceridwen coming up behind you and hugging you as well. You let yourself melt into the warmth of their hugs and take the first deep breath you’ve had since you’ve woken up in this strange place.

An hour later you find yourself drifting, your eyes involuntarily closing as the exertion of your day begins to hit you full force.

“Come on, Y/N, let’s get you in bed.” You hear Ceridwen whisper softly.

“I don’t want to intrude.” You say though it comes out in a yawn.

“My dear, you saved our lives, the least we can do is let you rest.” You don’t argue with her logic and slowly follow her to one of the bedrooms. As soon as you step next to the bed, you fall into the mattress and your eyes slide closed.

The next day, you feel at least some of your energy has returned to its normal state and take a short walk into the hills surrounding the town. As you sit with your back on one of the trees, you breathe in the clean air and let the calm of the forest wash over you.

‘Why are you always such trouble?’ Dhìoch slides into your mind a hint of amusement in her tone.

‘Excuse me. How exactly am I trouble? And hello to you too.’ You don’t try to hide your indignation. 

‘Always the one to jump in and save others. Then taking two weeks to wake up.’ You scoff at your dragon, especially when she is intruding on the little solitude you seemed to have found. It isn’t as if you asked to be poisoned again.

‘You could’ve found another rider. I gave you the opportunity to leave me behind.’ Your dragon’s snarl curls around your mind and you know she would be knocking you to the ground if she was in front of you.

‘That isn’t what I was implying. You aren’t the trouble for me. Sgaeyl is.’ Dhìoch says, her tone bored. Though you can’t help but send your confusion through your bond. In the back of your mind a faint whisper of someone talking while you were poisoned flits in your mind, but you can’t quite place it. 

‘Dhìoch, where exactly are we anyway.’ You look around and there is something so familiar about the land, but the answer seems to evade you.

‘I believe the answer to all of that will be coming very shortly.’ You roll your eyes at your dragon’s insistent use of non-answers to your questions. 

Beginning to feel your body tire again, you slowly rise to your feet to begin the trek back to Red and Ceridwen’s cottage. You didn’t ask them where you were, but you were so concerned with their safety, you didn’t care. Knowing they were both safe was the only thought that crossed your mind. 

As you get closer to the cottage, your body begins to feel to heavy and when you go to take your next step, your knee gives out. Expecting to crash to the ground, your eyes snap closed and you brace for the impact. When impact doesn’t come, you open your eyes back up and they flare as they lock with onyx ones.

With two long strides you find yourself gathered tightly in Xaden’s arms and his head buried in your hair. 

“You’re going to send me to Malek one of these days.” He whispers in your hair, though there’s no bite to his tone. You huff a humorless laugh at the statement while still being crushed to the chiseled lines of his chest.

“For some reason I think I have an appointment with the god of death before you do.” You sass back at the insufferable man that has your entire being plastered to him. As if in offense, his arms tighten around you further.

“Don’t even fucking joke like that.” His words come out hard a biting tone to every syllable.

He suddenly pulls you back and stares intensely back into your eyes. He continues searching yours before the exhaustion of the day starts to seep into you again. You let out a large yawn and begin to pull away from him.

“If you’ll excuse me, I’m tired. I’m going to bed.” Before you can get further than two steps ahead, Xaden has grabbed your wrist and whirled you back around.

“Then come with me.” His tone now soft as he looks pleadingly into your eyes. 

“Come with you where? I don’t even know where we are. All I know is there are two people that are grateful for my existence in this cottage that offered me a warm bed.” You continue as you gesture towards the cottage. 

“You’re in Aretia. I took you here after Pavis was evacuated.” He says as if that is an entire explanation.  

“While I appreciate everything you’ve done for Red and Ceridwen, I’ll only be staying until I feel back to myself fully.” You say turning again to walk away.

“You are staying here.” Xaden states with finality and you whir around fully intending to give him a piece of your mind at his overbearing insistence. Your plans however are dashed when the world begins to tilt, and your eyes roll skyward.

“Y/N, Love.” Is all you hear before you feel weightless and find yourself wrapped up in Xaden’s arms and he begins to jog. Unsure of what is happening, you try to let yourself relax as breathing becomes more of a chore. 

Seeming to fade back in and out, you suddenly feel the sharp sting of wind at your face, though Xaden tries to fold you closer towards his chest. “You’ll be alright love; you just need to hold on for me.” Xaden whispers, his mouth grazing your ear with every word. His words may be steady, but there is no mistaking the dread laced in their tone.

As your breathing begins to grow shallow, you’re jolted in Xaden’s arms. Trying to open your eyes, you are met with the looming shadow of the fortress that you had left from a day ago. Though that isn’t what shocks your system.

Your eyes catch Xaden’s for only a heartbeat, but the absolute terror swirling in them puts a crack in the wall that you’ve had up for months. 

“Where’s Brennan?” Xaden barks, between the force of the command and the panic you can only imagine the way people part for the man.

“Wh-what the hell Riorson?” Another male voice questions from further away.

“You need to help her. She fainted and she’s barely breathing.” Xaden explains as you can feel him climbing and hear as a door is kicked open. 

“Stop standing there and fucking help her!” The roar leaving Xaden’s lips has your pulse jumping at the threatening tone.

“You need to calm down. Most likely it’s just the aftereffects of the poison trying to leave her system.” The calm male voice says as you feel Xaden place you down on a soft surface.

“Don’t tell me to fucking calm down.” Xaden growls. “She’s been out for two fucking weeks and then disappears and no one fucking tells me! You want me to calm down, then fix her!”

No words are exchanged before you hear footsteps coming closer to the bed and then a warm sensation seems to wash over your skin. As the warmth begins to fade, you finally take a deep breath and exhale out of your mouth, eyes fluttering open to the familiar stone ceiling you had woken to before.

“Thank the gods.” A breathless whisper comes before Xaden is kneeling next to the bed you are in, closer to your head. Your head turns and you’re met with the eyes that you can never seem to get out of your mind. He brings a hand to your head and cradles your cheek, rubbing his thumbs back and forth in a soothing motion. 

“What happened?” Your brows furrow as you blink your eyes trying to clear the fog in your head.

Another figure catches your attention, and you look down to see a man you’ve never seen before sitting at the base of the bed. 

“I believe it was the last remnants of poison pushing through your system.” The man with auburn curls tells you. 

Your eyes don’t stay on him long as you feel your body begin to drag you down again. Looking back up to Xaden, you slowly blink, the heaviness of sleep beckoning you. “I’m tired.”

“I know, my Love.” Xaden murmurs as his hand continues to stroke your cheek. “Sleep, I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

You blame it on the exhaustion pulling at you when his words cause your entire body to warm and a spark in your chest begin to ignite, though the flicker grows hotter when he leans in and gives your forehead a lingering kiss. Not letting yourself dwell on your feelings, you close your eyes and let yourself drift. 

Unsure of how long it’s been since you’ve drifted, your eyes blink open to darkness around you. Trying to roll to your right and out of the bed, you are immediately stopped by hand that is firmly gripping yours. Turning your head, you see a large figure slouched in sleep in a large armchair brought as close as possible to the bed. 

You slowly untangle your fingers from Xaden’s and continue your roll out of the bed. Heading towards what you think are the windows, you silently let yourself lean into the wall. Pulling back one of the curtains, you let yourself relish in the bright light of the moon that highlights the town below. You take in all the little things you can see by the light of the moon, including the way the moonlight glistens over the green rooftops that dot the town.

Caught up in your perusal of the town, you jolt when you hear the quick snap of the chair on the floor and turn as the occupant jolts up and begins striding towards the door.  

“Xaden.” You murmur in bid not to scare him, and his head immediately turns towards your voice. Without responding to you, he meets you in two strides and turns you to face him. 

“Are you feeling alright?” The concern in his eyes and tone is evident, even in the soft way he holds you. 

“I’m…better. Not sure if I’ll ever be alright.” You reveal quietly which causes Xaden’s arms to tighten slightly around you. 

Resignation tearing at you, there’s no way to stop the words from forming. “What do you want Xaden? After living through the last few months, I need to know. What do you want?”

You let the seriousness of your question leech into your stare, not willing to pretend any longer.

“I want everything you’ll give me.” Xaden says bringing both hands to cup your face. 

“I can’t fucking let you go. I refuse.” He continues fervently his eyes blazing with conviction. “What I said back in Cordyn, I meant every godsdamned word. I just need you to believe me.”

Xaden continues to stare back at you his brows furrowing and eyes turning sad. “I need you to give me another chance. Just one. I promise I won’t disappoint you.”

Your eyes slide closed as your head battles with your heart. Your head tells you that you’ll never be the priority for this man, but your heart screams for you to give him another chance. It isn’t either of those things that win out though, it’s the words that Red and Ceridwen left you with when you talked last night.

“No relationship is perfect, especially when you’re young. Life is always going to throw different problems in front of love, that's what makes finding it so special. But, if you find the one person that will fight tooth and nail to love you, you hold it close, because no relationship will succeed without the will to fight for it – you can’t just let it go.” Ceridwen finished while she gave Red’s hand a squeeze.

Opening your eyes, you can see the expectant look on Xaden’s face and the stiffness of his arms, even though his touch is still gentle on your cheeks.

“Are you going to fight for this like you will for the continent?” Your question comes out quiet, almost afraid of the answer.

“I will fight with everything in my being, until my last dying breath. I will always fight for you harder than I would ever fight for the continent.” The fiery conviction is only met with absolute certainty as his arm tightens snuggly around your waist tugging you against him. 

Your own hand comes up and pulls his other from your cheek. As you bring it down, you turn his palm and give it a lingering kiss. His breath hitches as his hand tunnels into your hair drawing you fully against him. 

After some time, Xaden’s hand moves to your neck and angles it to look up into his eyes. The moonlight seems to cast them into pools of gold, a swirling mass of love hidden in every corner.

“May I kiss you?” Xaden breathes out in a whisper as if he’s afraid to speak too loudly.

“Only if you promise it’s only the first in a lifetime’s worth.” The smile that he gives you is brighter than the sun before he tugs your face forward and his lips crash to yours.

Caught off guard at the ferocity behind the gesture, you can’t help your smile and the small laugh that bubbles up. You feel as Xaden’s lips curl into their own smile before the kiss turns languid. 

Xaden continues to kiss you slow, as if he’s trying to re-memorize every single corner of your mouth. You feel yourself melt into his arms as he slowly backs up and sits down on the bed. Without breaking the kiss, he pulls you down onto his lap while tightening his grip as if he can’t stand to have a single bit of space between you. 

You gasp into his mouth as you feel every inch of his body press into yours. He pulls away slightly giving your neck a lingering kiss and rests his forehead against yours.

“Gods, I missed you. Your taste, your lips, the way you fit in my arms.” Xaden says as he punctuates each one with a kiss. 

“Missed me enough to always put me first?” The seriousness of your voice and conviction in your eyes showing through.

Grabbing your face with both hands, Xaden’s eyes seem to search every corner of yours. “No one and nothing will ever come before you again. That is the easiest promise that I could ever make.”

His hand slides to your waist and pulls you flush against him and for the first time in months, you let yourself relax into his touch and breathe him in. As he feels your body soften against him, he brings your head to rest in the crook of his neck and leaves a lingering kiss on your temple before burying his face in your hair.

“You are the light to my shadow. The only home I’ll ever find rest in, and I’ll spend the rest of my life more than satisfied if I always have you.” He whispers in your hair, and in the darkness of his room, in the middle of the night, you breathe deeply and your heart settles as you find your own home in him.

Taglist: @honethatty12 @motorsportloverf1 @annthepenguin @dragonsandrinks @acourtofsmutandstarlight @minidemont

[maybanksprincess]

trouble sleeping? // j.m

warnings: fluff, cuddling, kissing, pet names.

summary: jjs girlfriend is having trouble sleeping <3

small blurb for my baby @jjblunts requested by this ask, i hope you like it!

for a couple days now, you've been having sleeping problems. when you lay in bed, you toss and turn for hours until you fall asleep, waking up with a sore back and grouchy from the lack of sleep.

however, jj has been noticing the slight changes in appearance and mood from you. he's been noticing dark circles starting to form, and the way you've been super quiet all day, and drinking multiple cups of coffee to stay awake.

he didnt know what was going on, but he knew he wanted to help. so tonight, instead of laying on the couch, he comes in to sleep with you instead.

you had been laying on your back, desperately trying to get just an ounce of sleep, but there was no use. you let out a huff of frustration and turn onto your side, hugging the pillows close to you.

as your fighting to fall asleep, you hear the door creaking, meaning someone has entered the room. you open you eyes to see the blonde standing above you.

he reaches down to carress your cheek, rubbing the pad of his thumb across it. "hey babydoll. you cant sleep?" he asks softly.

you smile softly up at him, a tired and weak smile on your face. "no..." you shake your head.

he sighs, sliding into bed next to you gently moving you over by your waist to make room for him. "why didn't you tell me baby? you know i would've came to sleep with you." he says, running his fingers through your hair gently.

you lean into his touch, resting your head on his pec. "i dunno, didn't wanna bother you..."

he chuckles softly "baby your never bothering me. jus' go to sleep, hm?" he says, and moves your hair away from your face to kiss your forehead.

within minutes, your softly snoring in his arms, your face buried in the crook of his neck.

he smiles, pressing his lips to yours in a gentle kiss. "sweet dreams, sweetheart." he says before falling asleep, holding your body against his protectively.

[nochepsicodelica]

"All those drinks are gonna do you dirty, ma. You're gonna throw up if you don't get some food in your system, so eat," Toji says, pushing the box closer to you.

You giggle at his serious face, before standing up from your chair for the fourth time, trying to go around him. Toji's used to this by now and stands up, bringing you back down to your chair.

"Stop getting up and eat your food. You literally begged for this. Why aren't you eating it?"

"Why aren't you eating it?" You return, raising your brows at him, seductively. It doesn't come off too sexy when raising your eyebrows makes you immediately squint because of the light going into your sensitive eyes, but it does lure a chuckle out of Toji.

"I'm ignoring that. Just eat. I don't wanna hear you upchucking in a couple hours."

"You won't hold my hair back?" You pout. Your feigned little flash of sadness produces real tears in this state, so it's a little confusing for Toji when you start giggling while wiping at your reddened cheeks.

"Your food's getting cold. I know how you are about reheating fast food, so eat it before it goes to waste."

You smile at him, your eyelids almost completely shut in your drunken daze. Toji can't even lie, it's cute. It's the only reason he's not up the wall about this little situation. Then you decide to drop a bomb on him.

"I'm not hungry anymore. Too tired to eat." You rest your chin on your palm, shutting your eyes. It feels nice. It would take less than thirty seconds for you to fall asleep.

Fuck. Think, think, think...

"Hey." Toji pokes your forehead, lightly, earning a hum and a furrow of your brows. "What if I feed you?"

You laugh, giddily. "Ooo, you trying to romance me?"

"Sure, if you eat."

You laugh again. "Toji, you dog, you. I'm not putting out." You shake your head, eyes closed with a dumb grin on your face. "No, sir. It's food and then goodnight for me."

"You already put out for me, earlier, doll." He smirks at the way you blush, clearly having an 'oh, yeah...' moment. "Eat some more so we can go to sleep."

"Hm?" You hum, rolling your eyes open after your blink of sleep. You crack a grin as soon as you look at Toji. "You wanna kiss me sooo bad. Look at you."

"I'm not gonna kiss you. You're not listening. You think you deserve kisses for that?"

"Uh... yes? I mean no. Pshhh, nooo. Of course, not."

"That's right. So eat, or you'll go to sleep without kisses, tonight."

"Noooo," you whine, dramatically. "Wait! Fine, fine. Look." You take a huge bite of your sandwich, your cheeks puffing up as you chew. "Oh, this is really good," you say, muffled by your mouthful of food.

"Don't choke, doll. Small bites are fine," he says, picking up a napkin and wiping the excess condiments off your face.

You push through it and gulp down the bite. "That was a lot. Got bread stuck on the roof of my mouth." You take a sip of your drink to wash it all down. "Did I look so pretty for the party, today?" You ask, your lips curling as you put the cup back down.

"You did, mama. Stunning. Swept everyone there, off their feet."

You smile, the gesture transitioning into a giggle. "Even Shiu?"

"Yup. Even Shiu said he wanted a piece of you."

You gasp. "No... Did you fight him?"

"Nah, I wanted to, but I kept my cool. If he had put his hands on you, then I might have, but I had my eye on you all night, to make sure nobody did more than look at you."

"I wouldn't have followed him anywhere, anyway." You roll your eyes, suddenly so hostile against the host of the party. "Probably would've kicked him in the nuts and gone to find you."

"Yeah, that's a smart idea, doll."

Toji's elaborate answers to your questions kept you awake long enough for you to mindlessly eat while he talked. You were at the end of the sandwich when you realized how much you had eaten and how full you were.

"Can't... do it..." You groan, lying on the arm you have extended on the table. "Too full." You sigh, heavily, setting the rest of the sandwich down on the scattered fries in its box.

"That's good, ma. You don't have to eat it, anymore. We can go to bed, now."

You let out another heavy sigh, sluggishness washing over you before you force yourself to stand up from your chair, this time with Toji's 'okay'. He looks at your little belly as it protrudes from your dress, proof of how full you actually are, and pokes at it. Your usually soft tummy is temporarily stiff and it's adorable.

You grab Toji's hand so that you don't stumble as you walk. Before leaving the table, he finished the remainder of your sandwich in one bite and threw out the container with the remaining cold fries.

"Damn, you were right, baby. That was good."

"Mhm," you mumble, waiting for him to lead you to the room.

Toji helped you brush your teeth and wash your face, and when you finally made it to the room, he helped you dress down into comfier clothes. Now, you're in bed together and you're in his arms trying to doze off, but you can't with the way he's smothering your face with kisses. It's just kiss after kiss with him and you can't focus, but it is what you wanted. After all, you stuffed your face for this.

[yzzart]

WHEN I WAS LED TO YOU... ── KENJI SATO

── summary: Kenji could get used to his routine, but, only with you by his side.

── word count: 982!

── warnings: F!reader, nothing intense, mention of Emi and Mina, Kenji being a little needy.

“Come on…” — A voice, entering the melody with softness and familiarity, passed through the player’s ears. — “…i know you’re awake.” — The statement was accompanied by a laugh.

Kenji could easily — in fact, completely — conclude that that voice belonged to an angel; even though he doesn't admit to being so religious, openly. — By having his eyes closed, in satisfied tiredness and drowsiness, he was more likely to believe in his conclusion.

Even in unpleasant, unstable situations and, insanely, worries about his life — like worrying about his stats in games, trying not to destroy the city while fighting some monster, and teaching Emi something practical and not blunt — and not wanting to hear or see nothing in front of him, Kenji had his refuge; a place to feel safe and at peace, at home.

“Ken…” — You voice pleaded, with more sweetness and, trying, to mix a little seriousness. In addition to moving between the thin, silky sheets of your body, wanting to get even closer to the boy.

In fact, he could melt into the bed, right there, just to hear your voice crying out to him like that.

Releasing a brief sigh, and pulling a breathing line, inhaling your scent, which was stuck to the pillow, Kenji tried to communicate with a mumble; which even he himself had no chance of understanding. — Perhaps, his consciousness still remained trapped in his sleep.

Because you found his action funny, your laugh, a little more hoarse, enveloped Ken's ears again; automatically forming a placid smile on his lips. — Moving his head, the young boy, with his eyes sensitive to the light, comes across your image resting on the pillow and covered, just enough, with the white sheet.

Sato was mentally grateful for the privilege of waking up every day with this vision.

"Good morning, my love." — You said, without holding back your wide smile; something that captivated and welcomed Ken's chest. — Your orbs moved, without haste or greed, across the boy's face, memorizing, for countless times, every little dot that existed in the region.

"Morning..." — He replied, followed by a yawn and another grumble; a sudden and unexpected movement was caused in the bed, obviously, it was the player's body snuggling against your. — Like he wants to fit in with you. — "What time is it please…?"

“Hm…” — Your eyes crossed the clock next to the bed. — “Soon, it will be 9:30.” — With his head buried in your neck, Sato let out a whimper, causing a tickle.

“It’s not possible…” — He complained, almost whimpering; as a sign of caress, your hand entered your lover's soft black hair, causing affection and tenderness.

The oldest settled down, and, briefly, relieving a growl, memorizing a purr; feeling on your skin, a satisfied smile adored by the attention. — A true paradise for young Sato and he had no problem admitting it.

“I think someone forgot about the interview they promised for today, right?” — He definitely forgets; by the way his head moved from where it was, and how wide his eyes were, Ken had nowhere to run. — “Yeah, you forgot.” — You raised one of your eyebrows.

“Wasn’t it due tomorrow?” — He questioned, still not believing and with some messy black locks standing out on her forehead. — “I’m sure i had it scheduled for tomorrow.” — He rushed into words. — “Actually, i’m not so sure.”

End of the season, therefore, decisive games for the team and more efforts towards a high level of dedication; it also meant several interviews and moments of questioning about the games, his teammates and his personal life. — Sato understood that it was important, of course, it was part of being a baseball star, however, when trying to balance his life as an Ultraman, a player and, recently, the father of a giant baby lizard, it wasn't such a simple thing.

He wasn't alone, not to mention Mina, and, thankfully, he had you by his side. — Trying, as much as possible, and persisting in helping him; even when, thinking about your care and certain risks, he warned you that he didn't need it. — Evidently, the guidelines were not followed, for a pleasant reason. — And now, seeing you taking care of Emi, as if she were your child, lit up Sato's eyes.

“It really is today, Ken.” — You confirmed it and, unsurprisingly, another wave of mumbles and incomprehensible words and rolled eyes. — “At least, it will be the last one before they enter the rest period.” — Your hand moved along Sato's long, strong, bare arm, reinforcing his attention.

“At least there is a bright side.” — He murmured, shaking his head, prolonging his thoughts, at the same time, reusing the contact of your hand against his skin. — “I need to take a break.” — He said, turning towards you. — “Urgently.” — Like a somewhat defenseless creature, he returned to his comfort, now, with his head under your chin.

"I know, honey." — Your fingers stroked Kenji's hair, for the second time, while his arms wrapped around your waist, squeezing you, with the need to keep you close to him. — “And you will soon.” — Subtly, and delicately, your voice soothed him. — “Don’t worry about Emi, i’ll take care of her for today.” — Kenji thanked, once again and mentally. — “And maybe we’ll make a list of what we can do during these days off and she’ll go along with us.”

Your boyfriend's familiar, radiant laugh spread throughout the room, resounding in your chest. — For a short time, Kenji had understood his relationship with Emi and achieved a paternal image; visibly, it wasn't just him. — The small, and immense, baby witnessed you as a second mother.

“Yes, yes, of course.” — He pulled away, coming face to face with you, looking into your eyes, in pure ecstasy and passion. — “You’re the best, dear.” — Bringing his lips to your forehead, Kenji gave you a long, careful kiss.

[plethorawrites]

Jason Todd x Empath Reader (Because I love this idea)

Jason had barely made it through the door of the apartment before he collapsed onto the couch, his feet hanging off the end of it as he buried his face in a throw pillow with a tired groan.

You looked up from the pot you were stirring in the kitchen, glancing over at him. "Long day?" He just groaned again into the pillow. "Did you want to take a nap before we eat dinner?"

Sometimes, when he was extremely tired, he would take a power nap before you ate, just to avoid falling asleep during the meal. You never minded much, since you knew he had a hard job and it wore him out.

All he did was raise a hand, waving it dismissively. Was that a yes or a no? You weren't quite sure, but probably thought he was refusing the offer, as he often did, since he felt guilty for coming home and falling asleep immediately instead of spending time with you.

Despite his best efforts, he slipped into a state of slumber quite quickly, even though he tried to fight it off, telling himself he would only rest his eyes for a moment before getting up to give you a kiss like he always did.

A few moments later, when dinner was nearly ready, you heard the sound of something getting kicked and peered over towards where he was resting. "Jay?"

No response.

Turning the burner down, you walked over to the couch where he was sleeping, not well, at that. He was thrashing, the way he often did, one of his legs hanging off the couch, occasionally kicking the coffee table when his body jumped.

"Jay," you repeated, a bit firmer, shaking him awake.

He bolted straight up, breathing heavily. His hand gripped the pillow until it was white while he looked around, trying to recognize his surroundings.

His gaze eventually landed on you and his breathing slowed. "Baby?"

You knelt by the couch, taking his hand in yours. "You okay?" You asked gently, as to not elicit any strong emotions from him by accident.

Jason hesitated to answer, not wanting to lie to you but hating to admit the truth as well. "I- I guess," he muttered, his grip on your hand tightening. He scrubbed his face with his spare hand, wiping the sleep from his eyes. "I'm sorry for falling asleep," he apologized, leaning forward to place a small kiss on your lips.

You frowned slightly, resting your forehead against his. "It's fine," you assured him. "Are you hungry?"

Yes.

He was absolutely starving.

And as an added bonus, he wouldn't have to talk about his feelings or dreams for a while.

Jason nodded, loosening his grip on your hand ever so slightly before standing up, draping his hand around your waist and following you into the kitchen.

He knew you liked to know about how he was feeling; you constantly asked and he appreciated that you would take the time to let him try to vocalize feelings he used to ignore or invalidate. But he also knew that if he let you, you would use your powers on him every chance you could to help him sleep or bring him peace of mind, at your own expense.

Jason couldn't let you do that. So, he would rarely, if ever take advantage of your gifts. Instead, he would talk your ear off when he, very rarely, felt emotional enough to talk. And he would show you how he felt as often as possible.

After dinner, he laid down in bed beside you, pulling you close to him, like normal, resting his hand on your back and burying his face in your hair, kissing the top of your head. He never felt safer than when he was holding you and could feel you holding him back, with your arm wrapped around his waist and your head resting on his chest, listening to his heart beat through his shirt.

Unfortunately, his subconscious got scary when he was asleep and the normal comfort he felt disappeared when he began to dream, feeling like you were slipping away from him.

In his dreams, you left him. In his dreams, he died over and over and no one stood at his grave. In his dreams, he lost everything, everyone.

Jason woke up to you shaking him again, practically shouting his name to try to get him to open his eyes. He had broken out in a cold sweat, tossing and turning until all the pillows had fallen off the bed and he'd basically stolen the entire blanket from you.

"I'm sorry," were the first words out of his mouth. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..." He was out of breath, panting as he buried his head in his hands. "I'm so sorry. Please don't leave."

You dragged his hands away from his face, taking his chin in between your fingers and forcing him to look at you. "Jay, talk to me," you pleaded quietly, laying your head on his shoulder as he caught his breath. "Just tell me what you saw."

He exhaled, his fingers curling around the sheets. "You left me," he said, staring down at the bed. "I died again and you di- you moved on. You didn't even visit my grave."

Your heart broke.

"You know I'd never do that," you insisted with conviction. "Never."

If he died, you wouldn't move on. You couldn't. You wouldn't just visit his grave, you'd probably live at it. No piece of your heart wanted to even think about loving someone else. Ever.

Jason swallowed harshly. "I know," he whispered, trying to believe you. "I just...my subconscious doesn't."

You squeezed his shoulder, running your hand back and forth, trying to ease some of the tension in his neck. "Please let me make it better," you begged.

"No," Jason replied without hesitation.

He wouldn't let himself rely on your powers. He loved you. Not for your ability to lull him to sleep, but because you were his partner, the person he wanted to see every morning and every night, who brought a smile to his face and made him feel safe just by existing.

"Jason—"

"I said no!" He exclaimed. "I'm not using you. I'm not going to sleep while you stay up to let me."

You paused, seeing him tense even more. He hadn't meant to snap and you both knew it.

"You're not using me," you stated calmly. "And I can sleep anytime. Please just let me help you rest. Just for a few hours."

You were desperate for him to sleep. He looked exhausted, miserable, even. It hurt you almost as much to see him deny himself what could help as it did for him to constantly refuse your offer.

His jaw set and you could see him thinking it though.

"Please," you repeated in a soft whisper.

He finally caved. Nodding he sighed heavily, laying down. "No more than three or four hours."

That's all he really needed to function, anyway.

You nodded, laying down with him, seamlessly falling into his strong arms, wrapping your arms and legs around him like a koala, clinging to him for your own comfort as much as his.

The tension slowly dissipated from his body as he wrapped his arms around you, enveloping your body tightly as he buried his face in your neck, taking a deep breath and trying not to feel guilty.

A few seconds passed and he suddenly felt his anger, his sadness, his pain, all subsided until all he felt was peace and calm. Not to mention love. A lot of love. To a nearly unfathomable point.

Within seconds he was falling asleep in your arms, humming and mumbling incoherently while nuzzling your neck as you stroke his hair, scratching his scalp with your nails.

Three or four he said. You agreed.

You still stayed up all night, only allowing yourself to fall asleep once the sun rose and he got eight full hours of sleep for the first time since the last time he let you use your powers on him.

He'd be annoyed, you knew and he wanted to complain, tell you not to sacrifice your sleep for his but when he woke up, you were already asleep, still clinging to him. So, he let his arms tighten around you again, laying there, letting you sleep, like you let him.

A relationship was give and take, he knew. He felt terrible for taking too much, so he would give you this. For as long as he could. Even if his arms were numb.

[cherry-coloureddfunk]

And When You Move, I'm Moved, joel miller

𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡ daddy kink, p in v, riding, dirty talk, soft joel, hurt & comfort if you squint, praise kink, use of pet names ( baby girl, sweet girl, etc )

it's past christmas but I had this idea and fell in love with it and procrastination will be the death of me...

The night seemed to drag on forever.

It was almost 12:35, and Joel hadn’t come home yet— a broken promise that he had whispered in the morning, with a kiss to the tip of your nose, crossing his heart that he’d be back in time to hold you once more and open presents.  

Supplies were running low in Jackson, including penicillin and other medications that would be useful for a rainy day. Selfishness claws at the edges of your thoughts each time he has to go, a relentless whisper that begs him to stay—to choose the warmth of home and the safety of you over the unknown out there. It gnaws at your resolve, urging you to tell him to forget about the world, to let it fend for itself, and to stay here where it’s quiet, where it’s just the two of you.

Instead, you put your heart’s desires to rest, giving him a meek nod as you kissed the lips, which you came to know as your own goodbye. It wasn’t fair. However, nothing was ever fair when it came to your Joel.

At his core, your Joel was a giver— the kind of man who would give until his knees buckled from beneath him, and even then you were sure he’d pour what little remained of himself into the world. He bled for you, his devotion etched in every sacrifice he made, and though he’d never admit it, he bled for Jackson too, an unspoken loyalty for the town he called your home. 

So if Jackson needed something, Tommy and him were always the first ones to act. 

And all you could do was wait.

But the worst part wasn’t waiting. It wasn’t the fear of hypotheticals or counting every star in the sky and praying on each one that he’d be alright. It was the knowing. Knowing that one day your Joel might not find his way back into the safety of your embrace. That one day, the fucked up world around you might win. And it was as obvious to you as it was to those around you— you wouldn’t be able to endure that. The possibility of leading a life without him because to you, he is the world.

 Joel is the sun and moon, and the stars are him. 

You shift subconsciously on the bed, hands gripping the white sheets, a desperate attempt to ground yourself from this nightmare. You wanted to wake up. You wanted to wake up in his arms, the feeling of his breath fanning against your neck— a tangible reminder that he was yours. You longed to trace the outline of his nose with your eyes like you always did when he was fast asleep next to you— not wanting to surrender to sleep because that would mean another moment spent without him. 

And yet, somehow, even in sleep, you still dreamt of him. Always him.

Then, amid the deafening silence that accompanied the dark, the door creaked open slowly. You blinked in an attempt to focus on the figure that lingered in the doorway. It stepped through, gently shutting the door behind, and you saw him— Joel, Your Joel. 

The exhaustion on his face doesn’t go unnoticed; bright eyes now sunken, and the pink plush lips you had kissed in the morning were red and irritated, no doubt from the harsh weather. Eyes bloodshot from fighting sleep. 

“Joel…” You could finally breathe, rushing to your feet. You leaped out of bed and wrapped your arms around his neck. Pressing your face against his jacket's material, you felt his heart's rhythmic beat. He was here. He was safe.

“M’okay.” He soothed, lips brushing the top of your head as his arms came around you, “M’here, baby. M’here.”

You guide him to sit at the edge of your bed, standing between his legs as they rest on either side of you. He reaches out slowly, arms wrapping around you to pull you into his lap by habit. Once you’re there, you get a closer look at his face with the help of a nearby lamp. Small cuts adorn his face, and a prominent one that you notice lies on the bridge of his nose. 

Tommy and him weren’t the only ones searching for supplies. 

You cup his face gently, fingers ghosting the gray whiskers of his beard. He leans into your touch, eyes closed, completely melting at the contact. He shudders at the feeling of your lips pressing against every knick that taints his skin. Whoever did this to your Joel, you wish the weight of their cruelty returned tenfold—a life heavy with regret and haunted by shadows, never to know the peace they carelessly stole from him.

“C’mon, baby girl, let's get you to bed.” He rests his forehead against yours, fingers caressing your sides with a feather-light touch, “S’real late.”

Ever the giver. Even in the quietest moments, he pours what’s left of himself into you.

You shake your head gently, fingers coming up to undo the buttons of his winter coat. Once the constricting material is off, his shaky hands work on his favorite green flannel. He curses under his breath as his hands tremble. They feel numb and stiff from the biting cold, refusing to obey his commands. Frustration flickers across his face as he struggles with the flannel buttons, his breath coming in shallow puffs of irritation.

"I can't... damn it," he mutters, the words edged with a helpless kind of anger—his fingers fumble, clumsy and uncooperative. 

Placing your hands over his, you offer him a sympathetic smile and take over, undoing each button for him. He shrugs off the flannel, leaving the sight of his broad chest in front of you, revealing another scar, though this one is more familiar. It lay above his lower stomach, and you’d seen in passing within these same four walls when the man in front of you whispered filthy things into your ear, the weight of his naked body against yours, holding your hand as he fucked you into the mattress he was now sitting on. 

Still, on his lap, you moved to work on Joel’s pants, using your hands to rub at the top of his inner thigh gently. His grip on your sides tightened slightly as he let out a strained breath, peering at you through hooded eyes. Now, standing between his legs, you peel off his jeans and boxers, throwing them to the side of the bed to deal with another day. 

Joel’s hand comes to toy with the thin strap of your nightie; his fingers dig under the silk, slowly dragging both straps down your arms to reveal your naked body to him. His eyes dance along your chest, admiring the swell of your breast and the sight of your nipples that harden from the chilly air in the room. He pulls you into him, kissing the valley of your breast to the exposed skin of your neck. You giggle softly at the familiar beard scruff tickling your soft skin. 

Your hand drifts between your bodies, finding his aching cock. Wrapping your hand around his girth, he twitches in your hand with a low moan. You knew what he needed– Relief. And you’d be more than willing to provide that for him. 

“Take those off f’me, baby.” He removes his hands, letting his eyes drift to your panties, the only thing shielding all of you from him. You hooked your fingers around the soft cotton material, yanking them down so they could pool at your legs. You stepped out of your panties and closer to Joel, watching his hefty hand stroke up and down his cock, watching you unravel yourself for him and him only. 

“Wanna take care of you daddy.” Your hands find his shoulders, rubbing them to soothe the ache he felt from the day. Joel did so much for you. He kept you safe and full in many ways without expecting anything in return. You’d never lift a finger as long as he was around, and that was apparent from the first time he took you to bed and made you cum two times with his fingers and once with his mouth. Sometimes, you wanted him to be selfish because he deserved it more than anyone.  

“You’re so sweet, baby girl.”  He smiles up at you, still pumping his cock. Your eyes fall to his length and the bush of wiry hairs above it, “Gonna ride daddy’s cock n take care of him real good? Make him feel better?” 

“Uh-huh.” 

“Spit on daddy’s cock, baby.” 

You lean down to his length, eyes meeting his as he gives you a nod of approval. You gather the salvia in your mouth, letting it fall from your lips to his length. Joel’s eyes darkened, watching your spit drip down the head of his cock onto his shaft. 

“One more time.” 

You spit once more, and Joel removes his hand completely, arms reaching out for you. You step towards him, letting his hands find their way onto your hips. He pulls you into his lap once more, positioning you to his liking– both of your knees on either side of him as your wet entrance hovers over his cock.  Your nails dig into his shoulders when you feel the hot tip of him rub against the wetness of your core.

“Fuck, baby.” He groans, eyes closed. His hands hold you firmly in place. “She’s dripping onto me– filthy girl gonna ruin these sheets.” 

You whined, trying to move yourself onto him, but Joel was stronger, able to manipulate you however he wanted. You let out a sigh, just wanting anything he would give to dull the ache between your thighs. 

Joel tsked, “Be patient baby, m’gonna make you feel better.” He moves you forward just enough so  his tip catches at the notch of your cunt,  “Daddy spoils you so much that you're always used to getting your way, hm?”

You gasped, burying your face into the crook of his neck at the feeling of his cock against your clit, “No, Daddy, m’your good girl, promise!” 

Joel’s hand gently cupped your face, his fingers softly caressing your skin as if to reassure you that he was just teasing. He knew you were spoiled objectively but loved being the one to indulge you. More than that, he loved how much you needed him. It gave him a sense of purpose, something he would never tell you himself. He thrived on being the one you turned to, the one you trusted to take care of you. Knowing that you relied on him, that you needed him in ways no one else could. It wasn’t just indulgence; it was connection, it was love, and it was everything he never knew he craved. 

With his other hand, Joel moved you back to your original position hovering above him as he guided you to sink onto his cock. Joel’s hand was steady on your head, forcing your gaze to meet his own, already pushing you further down on himself. You moaned at the slight ache fading into pleasure from his size, splitting you open. 

“You’re doing so good, baby, y’almost there.” Joel sighed, eyes glancing down to where your bodies met. He was painfully hard from the sight of him completely stuffing you full, “Gonna give you some more.” 

“Daddy.” You whined, body slumping forward in Joel’s grip as he pushed you down so you could take all that he was giving you. He was thick and hot inside of you, his member pulsing at the feeling of being where he’d longed to be– and almost always ended up every night.

“I know, baby girl, I know.” He soothed, kissing your cheek. He let you move against him a bit, letting you feel how deep he was inside you. Your gaze cast downwards to see where you disappeared inside of him, his cock buried snugly in your warmth. 

Joel’s hands guided you up and down, setting the rhythm for you to mimic. You held a death grip on his shoulders, rolling your hips on top of him, a little cautious, not wanting to disappoint him. Joel noticed your apprehension and offered you an encouraging smile, his warm and steady gaze melting away your nerves. He knew how much you wanted to be his good girl, but to him, there was nothing you could ever do that would disappoint. Even if you faltered, even if you stumbled, in his eyes, you could never truly fall short.

“Fuck, look at you. Got the prettiest thing in all of Jackson bouncin’ on my lap.” He praised you with a moan, throwing his head back and focusing on how well your body always took him, “Doing such a good job for daddy.” 

You watched Joel’s eyes rake all over your naked form, moaning when you’d sink back down onto his cock. His hands had reclaimed their place at your sides, moving you against him at a faster pace. One of your hands came to rest on the side of his face as you asked breathily, “Like this?” 

You rode him at the pace he wanted, pulling his forehead to rest against your own, wanting to feel him as close as possible, though it probably wasn’t possible. Close would never be enough for you. You’d always want more when it came to Joel. The dark hairs at the base of his cock brushed against your clit whenever you sank onto him, spurring you on further. 

“So fuckin’ sweet to me.” He nodded, confirming your earlier question, one hand gripping at your breasts as he licked at the nipple of the other. His tongue swirled around the bundle of nerves making your back arch in pleasure. He loved how you wanted to please him. You really were his good girl. He pulled his mouth off with a pop, “S’just what you needed huh? My perfect girl’s little pussy was just beggin’ t’be full o’me?” 

You wanted to respond, but the feeling of him engulfing you made it impossible. Your face contorted the feeling of euphoria rushing over you when you felt Joel’s hips move upward on their own accord, meeting your movements to fuck you even harder. 

Joel.

Joel.

Joel. 

It was like a mantra in your head. It was all too much. 

‘Daddy, I– I think m’ gonna-” You whined into the crook of his neck. Joel knew your body well enough that he didn’t need you to tell him when you were close; he always felt it. He felt your hot tears drip onto his chest, bringing his hand up to tangle into your hair as he kept up his powerful thrusts into you. 

“Cum for me baby girl, s’okay you can do it.” He breathed out, his hand stroking your scalp, “I’ll take care of you. Let go f’me.” 

So you did. You came hard, trying to muffle your cries by covering your mouth with Joel’s shoulder, which was damp from your tears. Your walls gripped Joel’s cock, throbbing as you came undone on top of him, eliciting a deep groan from the back of his throat. With what little energy he had left, both of his hands came to grip the undersides of your thighs as he fucked into you. 

His hips stuttered, a sign to you that he was going to come as well. Your walls squeezing him allowed that final push he needed as he emptied himself into you. 

You were both left wrecked. Heavy breathing against sweaty skin pressed against each other. Joel’s arms enveloped you, gently rubbing your back as you tried to catch your breath, “Stay inside, please?” 

“Okay, baby,” he chuckled, burying his nose in your hair and taking a deep breath. Your head rested on his shoulder as he held you close, keeping you pressed firmly against him. “Do you still want to open presents?”

“After round two, definitely.”

[lxnarphase]

BITCH, YOU KNOW I'M SEXY ᯓ★

━━ ❝ I'M NOT YOUR MOMMY, N★GGA! FIND A NEW HOBBY, N★GGA! ❞ wc. 5.4k

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...synopsis : being toji's roommate, you finally snap after another night of not being able to sleep because of his damn late-night hookups. your house, your rules.

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...cw : blk!fem!reader x f. toji, frenemies to lovers, smut, face-sitting + pussy eating, dumbification, degradation, praise kink, dirty talk, playful arguing, hair pulling, size kink, begging, riding, unprotected sex (do not do this in real life omfg), dom-ish reader, sub-ish toji, lots of pet names, toji being an asshole, toji gets called a 'good boy' a few times

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...lunar's notes : toji toji toji, what am i going to do with you...anyways, this was super fun and i love these two so much and i need them to go out on a date properly at some point ! if you want to be tagged for the future posts, comment on the main post here ! enjoy baddies ❤︎

you love sleep. absolutely love and cherish it, even.

every night, you follow the routine you set for yourself without fail: hot shower, slipping into some comfy PJs, in-depth skincare, brushing your teeth, and then pulling your bonnet on.

nothing is better than slipping into bed, soft sheets feeling sooo good on your skin. yes, you absolutely love sleep.

except it seems that your roommate has no respect for your need for rest, considering how many times you've had to hear the high-pitched whining of women paired with the annoying thud of the headboard against the wall.

he better not damage the wall either, because he will be the one paying for it.

you both were...sort of friends, sure, but ever since you both graduated college, toji has been doing his best to get on your nerves. constantly picking on you, teasing you, or doing stupid shit that annoys the fuck out of you. especially whenever he leaves the fucking toilet seat up in the middle of the night.

and every time he hears you squeal late at night in the bathroom before shouting his name, he can't help but laugh.

eventually, it went from him just doing things to inconvenience or mess with you to this. and you were tired.

these nightly...activities of his need to be addressed because you are not letting a man of all things be the reason you can't sleep soundly at night. this is your apartment, after all!

it's a friday night and you just know you need to talk to him before you have to hear some woman fighting for her life of toji does...whatever he does that has all these women coming in and out of your apartment like it's a damn brothel...okay, well, it was the same two women, but still!

so that's how you find yourself, pounding on his door, sleepy, tired, and irritated in your hello kitty pajama pants and an oversized t-shirt, ready to get in bed and actually sleep.

"fushiguro, open this damn door," you command, fluffy slipper tapping on the floor as you wait for him to open his door. after a minute, you hear a groan and the shuffling of sheets before the door swings open.

toji stands in the doorway, only in a pair of sweatpants that hang low on his hips with an eyebrow raised as he looks down at you. you don't care how hot he looks, you want nothing more than to wipe that look off his face, hating how smug he looks.

"whaddya want? 's she here already? told 'er not to come for another 2 hours," he mumbles, scratching at the scar on his lip. you're silent for a moment, processing what he just said. "who......no. nononono. absolutely not, tell whoever you are expecting she is not coming into my apartment."

crossing your arms, you fix him with a tough look. sure, you know you aren't the scariest thing, especially in hello kitty pants and puffy slippers, but it doesn't matter! he is going to respect your wishes or...or else!

"aww, what's wrong, doll? can't sleep," he teases, voice low and sinfully smooth as smirk finds its way onto his face. "guess ya should've invested in those headphone y'keep talkin' about so much. can't help that 'm just that good that the girlies can't keep their mouths shut."

having you in front of his bedroom door like this...it's so fucking adorable to him, you were just so cute and didn't have a single clue, did you? complaining that he and his little playthings were too loud and keeping you up was not what he expected. but, toji won't lie, he's genuinely surprised it took you so long to finally say something.

it seems his little comment struck a cord, his smirk getting bigger when your eyes get just a bit wider in disbelief. man, you were so fucking cute like this, all angry and huffy.

"okay, first of all, those headphones are NOT comfy to sleep with at night. and i'm not dropping almost $400 dollars on something so that i can accommodate for you," you argue, stepping forward and jabbing your finger into his stupidly big chest.

no, seriously, why were his pecs almost bigger than your tits?

"can you please just let me sleep for one night, or are you that sex deprived you can't go a single night without getting your dick wet?"

whatever this new side of you was, he liked it.

"aww, sounds like little princess s' mad no one's fuckin' her right. ya not gettin' fucked good, pipsqueak? haven't seen yer boy-toy around lately anyways.

"god, that's—that's none of your fucking business, fushiguro, shut up!"

"make me."

you blink.

a moment passes...and suddenly, your eyes are sharp.

ah...he might've fucked up with those two simple words.

"...you know what? i will, you annoying fuck."

catching toji off guard, you shove him back, taking advantage of him stumbling to walk inside his room as you slam the door shut behind you. a light chuckle escapes him, eyebrows raises. "so, the little kitten does have claws," he says with a grin.

his little roommate seems to have grown a pair of balls. what is she gonna do? hit him with pillows, curse him out, kick him out? pffft, if you kicked him out he would know you needed sleep, you both have been friends for too long...right?

as toji gets slightly worried he might've genuinely crossed a line (a bit too late to realize that, he realizes), you push him onto his bed, standing between his legs.

oh.

oh, he...he likes you from his angle, looking down at him with a little bit of a pout on those pretty full lips of yours as you try soooo hard to look angry and scary. but how can he be scared when his roommate, the one he's been fucking his hand for, looks so fucking cute?

curly hair a bit frizzy and messy (he's surprised you don't have your bonnet on yet), smelling like cocoa butter and that strawberry shortcake body spray that haunts him at night. and now you're in his fucking room. he'd never be able to escape it now.

fuck, every time you came close to him, he just suddenly couldn't process anything except you...he needed to get a grip.

propping himself up on his elbows, toji locks eyes with you, playing off his surprise. "what's gotten into ya, roomie? so aggressive, might have t' call shiu to come get you," he attempts to playfully poke. the tension in the room grows when you start to massage your temples, trying to calm down.

in.

out.

in.

out.

in-

"well, if lack of sleep is gettin' you all huffed up like this, i gotta couple o' ways t' tire ya out if y'need."

"oh my god, y'talk too fucking much," you grumble.

toji opens his mouth, ready to make another smart comment but he's shocked into silence when you tug your pajama pants off. there's no fucking way this is real. toji knows he has to be dreaming and knowing he'd be waking up with a wet spot in his pants if he didn't wake up soon.

and...are you wearing hello kitty boxer briefs too? god, you're such a fucking dork, it's cute and it's only making him harder in his pants.

but all of that is forgotten when you hook your fingers in the waistband of those stupid looking boxers and drag them down those pretty legs and toji gets a glimpse of your cute, pudgy tummy and...and....

fuck.

he doesn't even get a chance to think, he's so fucking hard. you're fucking half naked in his room right now and he can't tear his eyes away from how soft you look, that little patch of hair (is it shaped like a fucking heart? jesus fucking christ, you were serious about making yourself feel pretty everywhere), god, he's so fucked.

"shit. someone's eager. just couldn' wait to-"

"i'm so sick of you," you cut off, pushing him down onto the bed, crawling up his chest. you give him a look, one that he instantly understands and he smirks, giving you a nod before you continue moving until your hips hover over his face.

the smirk melts off his face when he realizes how real this is. your bare pussy is literally mere inches away from his mouth, so close he can practically taste you.

he's not gonna make it out of this alive, is he?

when you see him about to open his mouth to make another stupid comment, you move, pressing your hips down onto his face, shutting him up. "you wanna use your mouth so much, toj? i'll give you somethin' to use it on."

toji's response is just a muffled groan, his eyes fluttering a little. his hands move up to grip your thighs to steady you and also keep you on his face. he hasn't even tasted you, but shit, you smell so good.

wasting no more time, his tongue hungrily darts out, desperate to taste you. the moment he licks over your folds, he's sighing, melting into the bed. you're so soft, so sweet and he hasn't even gotten a taste from the main source. pulling you down onto his face a bit harder, toji finally swipes through your cunt and he's addicted.

"mmh, fuck," he grunts, burying his face as deep as possible. what the actual fuck are you made of, he thinks to himself. you taste so sweet, he's getting so dizzy as he starts to messily lap up all the slick dripping from your pussy. he barely pulls away from you to breathe, taking just a second to part, his hot breath fanning against the wet mess between your legs before he dives right back in, his low groans resonating against your core so nicely.

toji slurps loudly at your cunt, unable to stop himself from rolling his hips up, the friction of his sweats on his cock a sweet relief. he's so sure this is heaven, thanking whatever god there is for making you snap to this point but then you start talking.

you sigh, hips gently rocking against toji's face as your eyes open to look down your body at him. "mmn, 's better," you purr to yourself, little sweet noises of pleasure escaping you as one of your hands runs through his hair, giving him an encouraging little tug.

"should i just give you my pussy every night so you let me sleep, toj," you coo at him, a smug smile on your face. he didn't even notice his eyes slipped shut, but he opens them, flickering up to meet your lidded gaze and see the pride swirling around your eyes.

has his roommate always been like this? toji doesn't remember you being so fucking sexy like this. sure, you've always been attractive, and he's definitely had a thing for you for a while. but never in his life did he think his sweetheart of a friend would be smushing his face into her soft cunt.

his response is a little nod and an increase in his tongue's movements against your sloppy pussy. his lips move to suck right at your puffy clit, and he swears nearly cums when you gasp his name and whine, pulling him even deeper by his hair.

his train of thought is completely destroyed, he can't think of anything but you, can't feel anything but you, can't see, can't smell, can't taste anything but you.

he'd kill a man if it meant being able to taste you like this every fucking day.

"ohh, tojibaby, y'look s' pretty eating my pussy...poor thing, jus' needed something to shut you up for a bit."

scratch that, he'd kill SEVERAL men if it meant hearing you sing praises like that while you grind against his mouth, practically suffocating him with your thighs.

it's addicting, the way slick is gushing out of you each time he kisses your clit before sucking on it, coating his mouth. toji knows he looks a wreck, but he doesn't care, not when he's got you on him like this.

"d'you wanna make me cum, toj?" you ask it so teasingly, tugging his hair again and making him moan. "you're makin' out with my pussy...such a good boy for me."

those two words are his undoing, a visible shift in his energy. his eyes are sharp, and he almost looks angry as he grips your thighs even harder. "yes, fuck, yeah, mama, i wanna make you cum all over my face," he growls, tongue unrelenting when it slips back inside of your cunt, a nasty wet noise filling the air as you keen. he's fucking you with his tongue so messily, like he'll die if he stops tasting you.

good boy. you called him a good boy.

the compliment made something snap in him, the need to devour you whole the only thing on his mind. he's not just a good boy, no, he's your good boy, and the thought of being yours makes a thick bead of precum to drip out of his cock and stain his sweatpants.

he's brought back when you tug his head back to look at you, that thick tongue of his slipping out of you.

"i don't want you bringing anymore fucking women in my house, fushiguro," you warn, glaring down at him. you're serious. if you see another girl come in here at 11pm, you might actually kill this man in his sleep and not in a way he'd like

"i'm so tired of hearing their annoying moans. if you need a pussy to put your stupid dick in, just ask me, you fuckin' idiot." shit, you usually never talk like this, but toji likes this side of you. the usually sweet and kind roommate he was so used to was no where to be seen, replaced with this commanding and no-nonsense woman who knew what she wanted.

he can't even deny, this side of you is such a massive turn on.

"promise you're gonna let me fuckin' sleep n' i'll cum on your pretty mouth, fushiguro. otherwise, i'm getting up and i'll call shiu and see if he wants a taste."

oh, fuck no. no way in hell is toji letting that smug bastard see you like this, best friend or not.

he desperately nods, just wanting you to let go of his hair so he can dive back into your sweet pussy, licking his lips to taste you again.

"promise, mama, no more bringing other women, jus' you, don't need nobody else but you, y'got my word."

"that's my good boy."

once you let go of his hair, toji dives right back to the task at hand like man possessed. his lips press against your clit, kissing it with little wet smacks before sucking it into his mouth. his tongue doesn't give you a break, flicking over it rapidly. your moans, god, your moans are getting so loud and so pretty, his eyes never leaving your face as he watches you get closer and closer.

"c'mon, doll, please," he begs, a whininess in his voice as he massages your thick thighs, encouraging you to ride his face until you cream all over it. "give it t' me, give me what i wan', cum all over my face, baby girl."

feeling how you start to move your hips, a sweet little 't-toji, 'm gonna cum' falling from your lips, his hands grasp your ass as he seals his mouth over your cunt, sucking and licking desperately.

he needs it.

he needs you.

needs you so fucking bad.

feeling him mutter those words against your cunt makes you gasp and choke out his name, thighs squeezing around his head. "oh, fuck, toji, 'm cummin, baby!" your hands are both in his hair as you desperately hump against his mouth, body shaking with the force of your orgasm.

he doesn't stop, he keeps his mouth on you to make sure not a drop of your sweet cum goes to waste. he can feel it spilling out of his mouth, down his chin and neck. it's so messy, just how he likes it.

he watches you, how could he even think to take his eyes off you? you're so pretty, do you even realize how your hair got puffier and messier from your sweating, how a few of those tiny curls got stuck to your skin?

"g-god, fuck, toj, hoohmygod, your mouth 's so good, nngh!"

shit, you're pretty, so fucking pretty, what the fuck? god, you even cum pretty, toji's so fucked. why didn't he get you on his face like this sooner?

feeling your tremors start to subside, toji slows his tongue, switching to little licks and then to soft kisses against your clit, keeping you grounded as you come down from your high. the fact he didn't paint the inside of his sweatpants white is a miracle, but he knows the front is wet and stained.

when he feels you relax, toji guides you off his face and down to sit on his chest. he can't help the twinkle in his eye, grinning at you proudly. the bottom half of his face is a mess, covered in his spit and your slick. you like this look on him.

"has anyone ever told you that you've got t'most addicting pussy ever?"

you huff a laugh, urging him to move up further on the bed until his back rests against the pillows. he was so annoying, and you hated how attractive it made him. “you’re too awake for my liking," you sarcastically huff, giving him a sweet little pout that makes him feel a bit more things than he probably should.

tugging his sweatpants down, you let out a little noise of surprise.

ah.

it all makes sense now. no wonder those girls sounded like they were dying.

"toji, what the actual hell is wrong with you?!"

"don't get mad at me, ma, i didn't magically make my dick this size! i just got lucky!"

"lucky?! girl, this is a curse, how the fuck did those girls fit this thing in them?!"

"they didn't."

that makes you pause. they couldn't get him all the way inside? glancing down at his cock, heavy in your hand, as he helps to get his pants completely off, you're not surprised. but you could take it, right?

...guess you need to find out.

shifting your hips, you move to swipe his cock through your slick pussy, a smug look on your face when he sharply inhales. "i'm gettin' my revenge, pretty boy, for all the sleep you made me lose. 's late, anyways, yeah? don't we need to sleep soon?"

the head of his cock catches onto your entrance, causing you both to sigh in pleasure. this would be a stretch, but you're determined by pure spite from toji and those women keeping you up at night.

while you're teasing him, toji is a breath away from losing his mind. the sight of you taking charge, hair completely fluffy now from the humidity in the room, has his cock pulsing in your soft hand. he's so sure that you're not gonna be able to take it all in. shit, he's wondering if he should stop you, tell you he's gotta prep you first or else it's gonna hurt, but you use your free hand to grab his face, making him look at you as an evil grin breaks out on your face.

"i'm gonna put you t' sleep with my pussy. uhm, something something, call that pussy nyquil," you giggle, slipping the tip of his cock inside of your wet, tight little cunt.

melting, that's the best way toji can describe the feeling of behind inside you, even if it's just the tip. "jesus," he hisses, his hands coming up to grip your hips. you're so hot inside, your tight walls are so snug around him. there's no way this tight cunt of yours is gonna be able to fit him in, there's not fucking way.

despite that, he finds himself guiding you down onto him, trying his hardest not to buck up into you. but the sensation of your soft, gummy walls squeezing him so perfectly is making it so challenging to stay still.

"fuck, mama...shit," he groans, watching as he is sucked into your warm pussy. once you get halfway, he expects you to stop, and that's usually where they all do. he was fine with that, more than fine, because he's never been inside someone so fucking tight.

but then, you raise your hips until just the tip is inside, and with a devious little giggle, you slam your hips down, gasping when you get him in all the way. damn, you realize it was a stupid idea, the stretch making you feel almost sick, but the reaction you get out of toji is worth it.

his head falls back against the headboard, and he whimpers, eyes rolling back into his skull, his lip pulled between his teeth as he tries to relearn how to think.

“i'm gonna make you cum and ‘m gonna fuck you stupid for not letting me sleep, fushiguro.” giving yourself a bit to get used to his size, you slowly started moving, seeing what angle worked best for you.

meg the stallion, i'm gonna make you proud of me, you think with a little smirk before you steady yourself with your hands on his chest and start to bounce your hips, your cute little threat only making his cock throb inside you.

"'m gonna make you regret bein' an asshole to your pretty roommate, pretty boy."

it doesn't take long for it to get messy, for it to get so fucking sloppy and noisy. each time you bring your hips down, the room is filled with a wet smack. you've really made a mess out of him, your sticky wet coating his fat cock and his lap, thick strands of it connecting you to him with each raise of your hips before you bring them right back down.

toji can't breathe, finally tilting his head back up as his eyes are glued to where his cock slips in and out of you. you're taking him, taking all of him into your sticky cunt and, shit, he thinks he might die like this.

"fuck, fuck, mama, c'mon, don' do this t' me, relax, please, fuckin' strangling my cock, oh my god—"

he's whining, it's so cute. who knew you could get toji fushiguro, mr. tough guy, to crumble under you like this so easily? it's so wet and gushy, the sound of your thick body smacking back down on his only making his insides twist in pleasure. he can feel how fucking wet you are, dripping down his cock, down his balls, it's so unfair.

"tojiii, talk t' me," you coo at him, your sweet voice bringing him back. "don't tell me my pussy's making you dumb already, jus' started."

you did, you're literally fucking him dumb, and he doesn't know what to do or what to say, but hearing you say his name like that in-between moans as you bounce your hips up and down his throbbing shaft has his babbling in an instant.

"god, this cunt 's perfect, baby, s' fucking perfect."

“yeah? y’like my pussy, toj? like my pretty cunt creaming on you?” you roll your hips, a pretty moan leaving you when his tip nudges against that soft spot perfectly. “f-fuck, you really are big...poor thing, no one could get it in all the way? am, mh, am i the first t’ take this fat cock t’ the hilt, tojibaby?”

you lean forward, hands moving from his chest to around his neck as you roll your hips, swiveling them in ways that have him gushing precum all over the insides of your cunt. the squelches your cunt makes with each roll is so fucking sinful and so nasty.

"y-yeah, mama, she feels s' good around me, all tight and warm, milking my cock like it's made just for you."

god, you smell so good...he can still smell your perfume and the sweet blueberry scent of your leave-in. you smell so sweet and taste so sweet too, he's so fucking lucky to have you fucking him like this. toji's hands move from your hips to your ass, helping you fuck yourself on his dick, groaning your name.

"god, you're the first to take it all, y'got me so fucking deep in that sloppy lil' cunt that y'can feel me in your stomach."

you giggle between moans, pressing your forehead against his. "y'so cute, toji, such a good boy f' me, yeah? feels so much better knowin' you can just tell me if you need me to put you to sleep, right?"

he groans, nodding as his eyes flutter closed again. "y-yeah, yes, baby, feels s' much better," he admits, breathless as he starts to get close. he can feel you getting tighter, getting wetter, and he'll be damned if he cums before you do.

"aww, listen t' you," you say with a little whine, your dominant mask starting to ebb away as you start to grow weaker and weaker. it's starting to feel good, really good, to the point where you can't think either, and you don't know how much more of this you can do. "m-my pretty boy, my good boy, f-fuckin' me s...s-so good..."

the moment he picks up the whininess in your voice, toji is alert, looking into your eyes to find that the pleasure is finally catching up to you, too. "yeah? yeah, mama? she's feelin' good? fuck, 'm gonna fuckin' fill you up, baby, gotta cream this pretty pussy so deep that she feels it f' days," he grunts, mouth open as he pants against your lips.

they look so pretty, he wonders if you taste like that lip balm you always carry, if your tongue is as sweet as you are, if your plump lips are as soft as they look. the thought of them pressing against his is what breaks him, and he's so embarrassed at the noise he makes before leaning back against the pillows and planting his feet into the mattress.

"i gotta fuck you, gotta fuck you good, 'm sorry, 'm so sorry, baby, promise i'll let you sleep, promise i'll be good for ya, okay? mm, fuck, c'mon, let toji make it better, gonna kiss your cunt with my cock and make it up t' ya."

toji fucks into your hole desperately, groaning at the loud wet plaps of his hips smacking against yours. your moans, god, your moans, they're so pretty, you're so pretty. he can see your tits bouncing against the fabric of the shirt you have on, and he curses, so fucking mad he didn't have you take it off. but he doesn't care, not right now, not when he sees how gorgeous you look.

he's so fucking prideful when he sees how poofed out your hair is, bouncing with each thrust up into you. "y're so fucking pretty, c'mere."

one of his hands grabs you by the back of the head and smushes his lips against yours, hungry as he licks over them before shoving his stupidly thick tongue inside your mouth. the kiss is just as messy as the rest of you, and the pitiful little moan you give has him reeling.

"i-i'm, 'm gonna cum, toj," you whisper against his mouth, nails biting into his shoulders as you do your best to match his pace. you're gonna cum, he's gonna make you cum, you're about to cum all over his fucking dick, jesus christ.

"fuck, you're so hot, so cute, mama, my pretty girl. need ya t' cum, dolly, can y'do that for me? please, baby, cum on me, make a mess s' i can fill you up an' apologize like i promised," he rambles before kissing you again, biting your lip before running his tongue over it.

it's so close, you can taste it. it's so unfair how big his cock is, how you can feel every vein and throb of it inside of you, how you can feel his hot precum smudging all over your velvety walls.

the realization that he's inside you raw has you moaning so sweetly, and your pussy is gripping him for dear life as you dig your nails into his shoulders even more, head falling forward. "t-toji, 'm, 'm gonna—f-fuck!"

you're cumming, you're cumming on him, and it feels so fucking good. you're creaming all over his lap, and your crying and moaning his name so sweetly he feels like he's gonna pass out. "baby, babyyy, no, lemme see, lemme see you cum," he begs, the hand in your hair tilting your head back up and the view he gets has his hips stuttering inside you.

your eyes are unfocused, long lashes wet from tears as you pant and whimper for him, all for him. and when you make eye contact with him, he feels your gummy walls squeeze him so tight.

"oh, fuck, yes, mama, jus' like that. keep cummin' on me, keep goin', 'm so close, gonna cum, gonna cum in this pretty pussy s' fuckin' deep you feel it in your tummy," toji babbles before he's losing himself too, pressing your head against his chest as he fucks into you, savoring your overstimulated cries for him. "'s gonna go deep, so fuckin' deep an' i'm gonna fuckin' eat it outta you, just like y-you fuckin' deserve—!"

with a pathetic sounding groan of your name, he's giving one, two, three, four hard, deep thrusts, moaning as he pumps his thick load into you, feeling your oversensitive pussy milking him dry. "g-good boy, g'fucking boy, tojiii," you whimper, moving from his chest to pepper kisses all over his face, moaning softly as you feel his hot cum coating your walls.

his mind is so blissfully blank that he doesn't even realize he's shaking a little bit from how hard he just came. cooing happily at him, you cup his cheeks, trying to bring him back down to you. "come back t' me tojiiii, don't die on me, roomie!"

still reeling from his insanely intense orgasm, manages a little chuckle, his hand moving from your ass to under your shirt, stroking your back. "'m here, 'm here, promise...i just...shit. ya fuckin' drained me, girly. what the hell are you?"

you laugh, kissing the corner of his mouth before nestling under his chin to catch your breath. "I'm your damn friend who happens to be the roommate you have been tormenting by not letting me sleep, dumbass."

"heh. fair point."

you both stay like this for a bit, just resting a little and trying to catch your breath. except...toji's eyes feel a little heavy, and he feels himself drifting away. "there you goooo," you coo, hand running through his hair. "told ya i'd put you to sleep."

"yeah, yeah, you were right," he grumbles and opens an eye, hand coming up to pinch your cheek. "jus' a lil' nap, okay? we still gotta get you cleaned up. after all, i promised i'd clean my cum outta ya, right?"

"my god, toji, you are nasty."

"but you like ittttt."

you couldn't stop yourself from laughing because, yes, you did. you liked it a lot.

soon, the room falls quiet as toji's breathing falls into rhythm with yours, the rise and fall of his chest steady and slow. his mind is still a bit dazed, and he can't help but get a little flustered as he realizes how badly he's wrapped around your little finger. the thought is only further confirmed when he feels his heart squeeze just a bit when he notices you fell asleep on his chest.

he wraps his arms around you in a gentle embrace, huffing to himself. yeah, so what he was whipped, he finally got you in his arms, so he sees it as a win.

as sleep finally starts to creep up on him, he presses a little kiss to your forehead, leaning back against the pillows and shutting his eyes. just a little nap, and then he'll get you cleaned up and make sure you accept his apology for everything he's put you through.

...he just hopes you won't be too grumpy when you realize you fell asleep without your bonnet on.

all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...lunar's tags : @satoruwiki @llllllllllllloser @screampied @abcdbleh @vicfuentesfangirl @sakurapeach @ohsuguru @crywolfix @naughtygobbo @aura88967 @jeanine-gt @tananaxx @tojancy @happymangosstuff

[kamitv]

▷ Holiday Headcanons

Synopsis . Things your jjk partner does during the holidays! / Pairings . (Separate) Gojo x f!reader, Geto x f!reader, Toji x f!reader, Sukuna x f!reader, Ino x f!reader, Yuki x f!reader, Shoko x f!reader, Choso x f!reader, Nanami x f!reader / Content . afab!reader, established relationships, modern au, fluff, creampies, soft sex, rough sex, filth, breeding, bondage, choking, oral sex, praise, dirty talk, sfw content, etc . / wc . idk ngl...!

A/N: Merry Christmas Ladies & Gentlemen! This isn’t proofread so please excuse any errors. Thank you guys sm for 7k on this account!! I hope you all have a wonderful day/night!! <33 [MDNI]

❅ Gojo Satoru

NSFW

Who's first present to you comes early in the morning at the ass crack of dawn, consisting of his warm breath caressing the shell of your ear as he rasps a needy plead—aching to get a taste of you to start his Christmas off "properly."

Naturally, you let Gojo get what he wants since that’s one less gift you have to worry about. That, and it’s a gift that just keeps on giving because as soon as he’s settled in between your legs, he’s smiling from ear to ear and swallowing down the drool that threatens to spill past his eager lips.

And when he finally latches that heavenly mouth of his onto you? Oh it’s over. He’s so glad he woke up early for this because nothing could pull him away from the honeyed slick of your cunt at this very moment—not even the perfectly wrapped presents awaiting the two of you just out in your shared living room.

Part of what has him so feral once his tongue is on you is probably the lacy festive blue panties you decided to sleep with. They match his eyes and there’s this pretty bow in the center… unfortunately, he was too caught up on trying to get your pussy against his tongue to admire the fabric longer. Now the garment lays in tatters just a few inches away from your quivering legs that dangle so prettily over his shoulders.

SFW

Had a snowball fight with you seconds after the first speck of white came falling from the sky.

Who spent weeks making sure that every inch of your shared home was adorned in pretty festive decorations.

Has literally bought you all that you couldn't think of and more for the special day. Gift after gift awaits you in that overly decorated living room of yours.

Adores this day and season because he has another excuse to spoil the fuck out of you. It’s no big deal that he bought you a vacation home or two… right? And the three vehicles he purchased were only necessary since you’d mentioned how much you liked them one time (around six months ago or something—not that he kept track or anything…) as the model drove by…

❅ Geto Suguru

NSFW

With Suguru, it’s actually you who’s extra freaky around Christmas. Sure, you love the festivities and everything but what/who do you love even more than that? Your husband. Or, more specifically, the thick cock he gifts you with all year long.

How could you not spend Christmas night with Geto’s dick sliding in and out of your mouth—having told him some measly excuse about how the mistletoe is hanging in the back of your throat this year and there’s only one way to share a kiss beneath it properly..!

Your glossy eyes remain up on his darkened purple ones and he looks so fucking grateful to have you. Geto stands with parted lips and bated breath as he watches you use that slutty mouth of yours to worship every inch of his pretty cock. You’ve got drool and spit dripping all down your chin but you don’t seem to have a care in the world. Hell, you probably don’t even have a thought in that cockdrunk head of yours right now either.

Geto even tries to pull himself out of your mouth (so he can catch a small break) only for you to let off a needy whine of his name and chase after him—latching your lips and tongue onto his oh-so-sensitive drooling tip just to suckle on him like you can’t function properly without his cock resting against your lips (and hey, maybe you can’t).

SFW

Impresses your parents on Christmas day flawlessly with the most perfect gifts for them (he unintentionally outdoes your gifts).

Spoils you like crazy with more than just gifts by being at your beck and call a bit more than usual. He’s always attentive but on Christmas he seems to he even moreso than normal.

Who lets you style his hair however you want with ribbons and bows while actively wearing a poorly made Christmas sweater the two of you made the year prior to the current.

Loves playing Christmas themed games with you because they remind him of playing games with Satoru (who occasionally joins the two of you around this time). You’re just as competitive as he is and even the most simple games turn into full on competitive events between the two of you.

❅ Toji Fushiguro

NSFW

It’s not until Christmas night that you get your real present from Mr. Fushiguro, your doting husband of God knows how many years now.

Watching you care and love on Megumi and Tsumiki all day was just the push he needed to later want to fuck yet another child into that gorgeous body of yours.

It started off as him being all soft with you, giving you that big bear hug from behind as he murmured into your ear—asking you if you enjoyed this year’s Christmas ‘n whatnot… only to lead to him casually suggesting that you two make the family a bit larger. Later rasping into your ear again, this time while you’re folded into a mind-numbing mating press, about how it’s time to give you your last present of the day.

His cock is throbbing more than normal too, whole body tense with a coarse mix of lust and love that he has for you. Oh how he could never truly get over the sight of you all under him like this with your eyes flickering back, nails clawing against his skin, and sweet softened moans of his name spilling from your lips.

It’s not long before the headboard is making not-so-subtle taps against the wall as he loses himself within the warm gushing depths of your cunt, fat cockhead only swelling more and more when you have the gall to utter the words, “Y-Yeah.. hnngh, fuck another b-baby into me, Toji,” And who ever is he to deny you of such a request?

SFW

Spends most of the day trying to bite back his smile as he watched his two kids open presents you bought for them. Their eyes light up with each gift and Toji’s poor heart only flutters with that uncomfortable warmth of love he can never quite get used to.

Keeps his best poker face on when Tsumiki and Megumi give him a gift. Toji tries to act like the little family drawing the two kids made doesn’t mean anything to him, going as far as laughing at how wonky the artwork is and everything but… the drawing is stuck onto the fridge the very second after the kids turn their head away from him and if anyone paid close enough attention to the big softie—they would’ve spotted his eyes glossing over ever so slightly.

You always get him the best gifts. Or at least, that’s what Toji tells you. Whether it be cologne or simply just a plate of Christmas breakfast in the morning—the man swears his wife outdoes herself every year. What would he do without you?

Doesn’t care too much for the snow but seeing you build snowmen and make snow-angels with his kids will always make him stand out in the crisp cold air for moments longer than he normally ever would. Usually with a hot cup of coffee in his hand, standing all mysteriously and brooding by the front door of your shared home as he watches you three run around and make fools of yourself—anyone who looks at him at the right second would catch a little grin quirking against those scared lips of his.

❅ Sukuna Ryomen

NSFW

As soon as the clock strikes twelve and Christmas has hit, he’s grabbing every red ribbon of fabric in the vicinity and wrapping his most important present (you) up to his liking.

Sukuna just loves seeing you tied up, especially on Christmas Day. One year he had your arms box-tied at your arched back as your cheeks were buried down into the sheets and his rough tattooed hands scaled along each exposed sliver of your skin. You were, quite literally, his prettiest present every year.

Sometimes you surprised him and tied yourself up in a new way—the sight never once failing to make his cock spring up. Oh and when he fucks you while you’re all tied up? He loses his mind every single time. Which is part of why he doesn’t do this all year long.

Christmas is the only day of the year where he really goes above and beyond with the whole bondage thing. Truth be told, seeing your fingers wiggle for touch and your body twitching for a moment of release as he fucks you to tears is one of his biggest and sole weaknesses in the world. It’s so sexy—especially with the cries of his name that follows along with the pleasing for him to let you touch his body.

Oh, and don’t even get him started on the way you always try wiggling away from him while your limbs are bound, no matter the position. The face you make, the way your cunt spasms—you do it every single time you’re about to cum for the nth time and it drives him fucking insane. Suddenly he can’t help but bully his angry cock into that sensitive sappy spot inside you that you’re so desperately trying to pull away from…

SFW

Definitely dresses up as the Grinch just to terrorize his child nephew, Yuji—who he knows you adore more than anything.

Yeah, you thought it was odd when you woke up on Christmas morning and your husband was nowhere to be found but when you made your way downstairs alongside a five or six year old Yuji to get the morning started… here comes your husband dressed in that iconic furred green suit and red coat—invoking a shriek from the poor boy beside you as he watched his uncle snatch up all the presents from beneath the Christmas tree.

You weren’t sure if you wanted to laugh or scold the man in the moment but either way, the event was memorable nonetheless. In Sukuna’s mind, nothing will ever beat the widening of your eyes and the dramatics that brat beside you displayed over some toys being snatched up.

He’ll never ever say it out loud to anyone aside from you but, he actually quite enjoys Christmas. Or, he has enjoyed it ever since you made him watch The Grinch—hence his antics surrounding the character. Hell, his first comment about that movie was something along the lines of, “Hah. I like the way this guy thinks already.”

Mind you, you were barely even half an hour in.

❅ Ino Takuma

NSFW

On Christmas, it’s just you and him this year so… after all the literal gifts have been opened and all the sweet things have been exchanged……. Ino’s offering his body to you entirely.

Mid-day, you swear you left him in your bedroom for hardly even five minutes only to return to his legs sprawled apart and his hard cock exposed & decorated with a cute bow wrapped around his hefty base. Then his hands are tied behind his back—part of you wondering how he even managed to do that in such a short period of time..

His brown hair is all tousled and his breathing is unsteady already. You’ve seen and felt every inch of him time and time before but offering himself ip to you like this was oh so embarrassing for the poor man. The instant your eyes fall onto his cock, his tip leaks in a messy slip of pre.

Ino can only take a deep breath and try to work up his confidence just to weigh his head to the side and lift a brow, “Well, baby? Merry Christmas. Come unwrap your final present…”

SFW

Ino loves going out with you durning the holiday season. Especially ice skating—even if you’re good or bad at it, he loves being out there on the ice with you.

Something about laughing in the cold until your cheeks burn makes his heart throb within his chest. Ino loves spending this season with you because he swears every small moment feels like a movie when he’s with you.

He definitely still leaves out cookies and milk for Santa and will debate with you for hours on end about how the guy is 100% real.

Goes, “Aww, babbyyyyy..” to literally each and every single gift you give him, soon followed by a sweet, “You didn’t have to get this for mee..!” He’s not ungrateful or anything but, even though you’re his girlfriend of like two years now, he’ll never quite get used to receiving gifts from you & he’s too damn humble for his own good.

❅ Yuki Tsukumo

NSFW

You make the ‘mistake’ of gifting her a strap for Christmas and she makes good use of it that same night.

Practically every position you can imagine & be stretched into—she’s got you in. You always knew your girlfriend had some mean hips on her but when she’s got this lengthy cock strapped onto those hips and she just working the thick ‘n hard inches of the plastic inside you at a brutal pace, you can’t even breathe properly enough to respond to her little comments of, “Aw, look at my girll… takin’ all of me so well, aren’t you pretty?”

Teasing you too with huffs of, “This is the best gift ever, cutie. I mean, hah..” She’d flash that knowing sexy grin of hers, “Jus’ look at this pussy—I don’t think I’ve ever seen her this wet before.”

You’re not too sure if you regret the purchase or if it’s the best thing you’ve ever bought for the woman but either way; in return for buying her that damn strap, Yuki gifts you with the meanest backshots not too long after opening her gift. She’s gotta make sure it works, right?

Hand around your throat, tipping your head back, lustful eye contact, heavy pants of your name, and praises pouring from her blush pink lips—Yuki’s probably never letting this gift go to waste.

SFW

She’s competitive so around this time of year, any winter spot imaginable… you’re playing or participating in with her (and probably losing).

Who loves making snow angels with you and then comparing the sized of the two, making fun of yours even if it were only the slightest bit smaller than her own.

Goes on these insane morning runs with shorts on ‘n everything. You find her bizarre for it and almost died the one time she’d convinced you to go on one with her.

Both of you would definitely give each other the same number of gifts literally every year. It’s always unintentional and completely coincidental but for whatever reason, if you got ten gifts: she got ten. If she got thirty, you got thirty. Even if you got one, she somehow got one as well. It’s silly but it keeps happening and both of you assume it’s the world’s way of telling you you’re perfect for one another.

❅ Shoko Ieiri

NSFW

Ties a bow around her middle and ring finger and gives you this smirk that leads to literally everything else.

It’d be after gifts have been opened and stories have been shared that she’s out by the fireplace with you, knuckle deep in your cunt as your sweet slick trickles down her slender fingers and coats the fabric she has around her digits.

Who doesn’t ever get tired of fingering you and never ever fails to amaze you because somehow her hands never seem to cramp up on her (or maybe that’s just from the years she spent with you but who knows..).

Once she’s satisfied with getting you off numerous times, Shoko will tell you that there’s another bow she wants you to find. That’s how you end up in between her pretty legs, tugging a lacey red bow that was tired around her upper thigh down her leg. And from there, it’s only fair that you enjoy your Christmas dessert that’s presented so deliciously in front of you—especially when she takes those two fingers from earlier and spreads herself open for you. The drool from her cunt matches the drool from your lips—how cute.

SFW

Building snowmen with you is something she cant get enough of. Especially considering the time you both built one another and you’d given her a small stick to resemble the cigarette she’s always got lodged in between her lips.

Who loves going to new cafes with you around this time for whatever reason. Something about the cold just makes her want to try all sorts of different warm beverages and who better to go try these things with than her loving wife?

Goes on a Christmas movie marathon with you because your presence during movies alone is enough to make her heart flutter.

You got her a pack of cigarettes one year as a joke but she actually appreciated it more than you realized. This was earlier on in your relationship and that gift was part of what motivated her to want to quit smoking (well, that & she’d like to live by your side for as long as possible).

❅ Choso Kamo

NSFW

Fucking his cum into you for a few hours is as good as any other gift he’s given you, right? Especially after seeing how you are around his brothers—so kind and doting, you’d make the perfect mother.

Hence the incoherent mutters of Choso wanting you to have his child later that night. All you did was give him the lovestruck look when he suggested it and it was over from there. He couldn’t stop himself from bending you in all sorts of positions, angling his hips into you perfecting and moaning about how desperately he needs you to take everything he gives you.

Who can’t even think straight when you look him in the eyes and praise him for how good he’s funking you—not that this is new or anything… But then you started teasing him. “C’mon Cho, r-right there. Gimme one more, fuck me nice ‘n full—mmgh..” Oh, you were sure to be the cause of his death that night.

He sees white by the time he cums again, something he’ll later tease you about with a stupidly unserious comment of, “Guess we really did have a white Christmas after all, huh?”

SFW

It’s winter so whenever you two walk together, he takes your hand, holds it tightly, and then pulls it into his pocket as the two of you walk together.

Who kinda adores the snow and cold weather for the simple fact that it hides how much he blushes around you and gives him a new excuse to use.

Loves seeing the happy look on your fave when you open presents, it makes him fall for you even harder and all he wants to do is provide the whole world and more just to keep that expression on your face.

Spends most of the holiday with his brothers and majority of his paychecks around this time are blown on providing gifts for his siblings—many purchases made without even so much as a price check beforehand.

❅ Nanami Kento

NSFW

Cooking Christmas dinner ends up with you either bent over the counter or spread out on top of the counter every year. Nanami basically calls it tradition at this point. He just has to have you instead of focusing on finishing the meal set for Christmas day.

And what makes it so much better is that Nanami also uses this time to reveal how much he’s into food play. The man can’t help but want to lick some sort of frosting or cream (aside from his own) up off of your soft skin. Swearing everything tastes better when it’s eaten off of you.

Or, sometimes Nanami claims that pistoning his sharp hips into you while you’re bent over the counter helps him focus on reading the recipe to whatever he’s making. Apparently your moans keep him focused on the task at hand (literally) and each clench of your cunt around his thick shaft make his senses sharper (his words not mine…).

That, and there’s nothing more fun than leaving a cliche powdered handprint on the fat of your ass after a couple smacks in between his rough thrusts. You find his ability to multitask insane. He’s fucking your legs to complete mush and yet baking a cake at the same time like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

Not to mention the way he’ll have you suck a taste test off of his fingers just to hear you moan out a stuttered response of how good it tastes.

SFW

Nanami is the best gift giver, naturally. Okay, yeah, you mentioned this item once as you were describing to him a dream you had like three years ago before the two of you were even together but who caresss, right? It’s not his fault he has such a sharp memory and has hung off of your every word for as long as he’s known you…

One thing your husband loves to do around this time is slow dance with you to some classical Christmas music. It feels sappy and sweet—swaying with the love of his life as joyful steady music flitters within the air.

He definitely cannot wait to have children with you because he sees the way your face lights up as you watch children durning the holidays. Their laughter is so pure and really brings the Christmas spirit into the hearts of anyone nearby.

Who doesn’t go crazy with decorations or anything but he will have one absurdly large tree with a ridiculous number of ornaments just because.

[ahsokaismyqueen]

Stay Stay Stay Pairing - Tyler Owens x Fem!Reader Summary - Until you met Tyler, you'd only had shitty boyfriends who would leave at the first sign of trouble or when you started to get too attached. Tyler Owens however is there to show you that he's in it for the long run, even when he finds out you're pregnant with his child. Word Count - 4.5k Warnings - Pregnant Reader, but this is just 4k words of pure fluff based on Taylor Swift's Stay Stay Stay ngl.

You woke up feeling miserable. You had barely gotten any sleep, staying up most of the night crying, and all you could think about was how stupid the fight you and Tyler had seemed now. You glanced over at the clock on your bedside table, and shot up when you realized how late it was. Tyler might have already gone, and now you wouldn’t get the chance to say how sorry you were. The fear of that gripping your chest had you rolling out of bed and out the door. What you saw in the hallway however, had you stopping in your tracks. 

 As soon as you shut the door behind you, Tyler jolted awake from his spot on the floor, rubbing his eyes. He was still in his clothes from last night, the button up and jeans, complete with cowboy boots. “You stayed out here all night?” You asked, emotion tight in your throat. 

Tyler looked up at you, brushing his hair back from his face. “Of course I did. Didn’t know if you might need me or not after those nightmares you’ve been having.” 

“But - but I threw something-”

“Your phone.” He informed you. 

Heat rushed to your face in embarrassment. “-My phone at you.” 

“I don’t know if I’d really say ‘at me’. If so, your aim was pretty off for someone who used to play baseball.” He said, and he started to move so he could stand up. 

Before he could though, you bent down and scrambled into his lap, wrapping your arms and legs around him as the tears fell down your cheeks. 

He let out a surprised grunt, but put his arms around you as well. “To be honest, not the greeting I was expecting this morning.” He said in a strained voice, probably because you were squeezing him so tight. 

“I thought you left already, and I didn’t want you to leave mad at me, because if something happened to you out there. . .” You wondered if he could even understand you with the way your tears messed with your breathing, but you had to tell him. The thought of him leaving while the two of you were mad at each other made you feel sick. 

“Hey,” Tyler started running a hand through your hair, the comfort of the motion easing into you. “I wasn’t about to leave without talking to you. I told them I’d catch up.” You closed your eyes as you felt his lips against the side of your head. “And you know I can’t leave without my good luck kiss.” 

You pulled back so you could look at him when you said this. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I got so mad. I’ve just been all over the place lately, and I feel like I’m losing my mind. I’m mad one second, the next I’m sobbing, then I can’t keep my eyes open, and the next second I feel like I’m going to die if I’m not jumping your bones-”

Tyler reached up and brushed your tears away with his thumb. “That one’s my favorite.” He said with a smirk. 

You leaned forward, resting your forehead against his. “I think I’m going crazy.” 

“Baby, you chase tornados in your spare time. Pretty sure by most people’s standards you are crazy,” he said, putting some hair behind your ear. 

You shook your head, and playfully smacked him in the chest. “I’m serious. I mean I know I get a little crazy around-” the thought hit you like a freight train. “Tyler, what’s today?” 

His brow furrowed, his smirk turning into a frown. “Sunday . . .”

“No! I mean what day of the month?” Were the calculations you were doing in your head right? Had the time passed that quickly? 

“It’s the 11th. Why?” 

Oh god. You gripped his face in your hands. “Ty, I’m late.” 

Tyler squinted at you. “Did you have somewhere to go . . . ?” 

You shook your head, your eyes wide with panic. “No, Tyler. I’m late.” You grabbed one of his arms and put his hand on your stomach, giving him a significant look. 

It was funny, how you could almost see the gears moving in his mind. It was like when he was trying to decide what storm to chase. You could tell the exact moments your words and actions landed. His eyes widened, and he glanced down at your stomach, then you. “You’re late . . . For that?” 

You nodded, watching his face for his reaction. It was an accident of course. The two of you tried to be careful, but one night a couple of months ago after an insane chase . . . The adrenaline got the better of both of you. While you had known you could get pregnant, you thought the chances of it happening the one time you didn’t use protection couldn’t be that high. Well, the universe might be proving you wrong. You weren’t sure how you felt about the possibility, but you were damn sure terrified of what Tyler might be thinking. 

You didn’t need to be. 

A slow grin started to spread on his face, and within seconds you found yourself hoisted over his shoulder and into the air. 

Letting out a little shriek, you grabbed a hold of his shirt. “Tyler! Put me down!” 

“Can’t! Got to go buy a pregnancy test.” He said, giving you a smack on the ass that made you squeal again. 

“We can’t! I’m not wearing pants!” 

“You don’t need pants to take a pregnancy test!” He said. 

A laugh left your lips at that, but then you smacked his back to get his attention. “Ty, what about the crew? They’re waiting on you. I can take the test, and call you-”

He put you down then, his hands holding your face and making you look at him. “If you think there is anything more important to me right now than this, you’re wrong.”  

It almost embarrassed you that you had thought for even a second any different. “I might not be, you know? I could actually be losing my mind.” 

Tyler shrugged. “Either way, there’s no place I’d rather be right now than here with you.” He said, sliding his hands down to grab your own, then leaned forward to give you one of the sweetest kisses you’ve ever had in your life, all gentle and tender, enough to almost bring tears back to your eyes. “Now, there’s my good luck kiss.” He said once he pulled away. 

“And what do you need good luck for, huh Owens?” You asked, raising your eyebrows at him. 

He smirked at you. “I’ll tell you later.” 

And he did. In about five months after he shot fireworks up in a tornado to reveal you were having a boy, just like he wanted. 

————————

“Ty! I can pick up potatoes. I’m barely showing.” You said, shaking your head at him as he dived in front of you to get the sack of potatoes before you could. 

He put them in the grocery cart, leaning over it and crossing his arms. “See, I know that, but the gentleman in me won’t let the woman carrying my son do something as lowly as pick up potatoes.” 

You rolled your eyes. It was sweet, but you knew it was also going to drive you crazy. “If you don’t let me do some things I might murder you in your sleep. I hope you know that.” 

Tyler raised his eyebrows at you, pretending to look confused. “Then who would reach all the stuff on the top shelf?” He asked, his expression morphing into a smirk as you crossed your arms over your chest. 

“I guess I’ll have to find another tall, handsome cowboy. Shouldn’t be too hard.” You teased, and then grabbed the cart, pushing it past him. 

He stopped you, grabbing you around the waist, holding you back against his chest and pressing a kiss against your neck. “Unfortunately, you’ll find I’m very hard to replace.” He murmured against your skin. 

You couldn’t help but laugh, elbowing him in the side. “All right cowboy, if you’re going to not let me pick anything up heavier than three pounds, go do me a favor and get the water. Lily said you guys are running low, and the weather conditions for the weekend look rough.” 

Tyler pressed another kiss against your neck, and then let you go. “Whatever you say ma’am.” 

You watched him walk away, a sight you always enjoyed in those jeans, then hurried up to get as many of your groceries as you could before Tyler came back to not let you do anything again. 

“Well, look who it is.” 

Oh god, you knew that voice. It was one you hadn’t heard in years now, and one you hoped never to hear again. You almost didn’t want to turn around so you could pretend it wasn’t there, but you knew this person wasn’t going to allow that to happen. It would hurt his ego too much. Turning around, you let out a sigh at the familiar face. “Hey, Charles.” 

Your ex was a dick. In fact almost all of your exes were dicks. Until you started dating Tyler, you hadn’t known what it was like to date someone that put you above themselves. Charles was no different. In fact, he was one of the worst, and the way he was looking at you right now made you want to throw up. Or maybe that was the morning sickness . . . 

“I’ve got to say,” he looked you up and down. “You’re looking good.” 

Nope, it wasn't morning sickness. “Thanks.” You replied, moving your cart so you could go around him. Hopefully you could make a quick escape and pretend this whole interaction had never happened. “It was good seeing you.” Lies. 

He grabbed the cart, stopping you in your tracks. “Wait a second. Don’t you think we should catch up some? I mean it’s been-”

“Five years.” You answered, your hands squeezing the handle of the cart. 

He smirked. “You kept track?” 

You wanted to smack that expression off his face, “to celebrate.” 

The nice facade faded upon your words. “You know, I thought maybe you’d changed over the years, but it seems like you’re still a-”

“Got the waters!” You breathed a quick little sigh of relief as Tyler came to a stop beside you, carrying not one, but two packs of water. He placed them in the cart, flipped his baseball cap around backwards, and put his hand on the small of your back. “Who’s this?” Tyler asked with his charming grin. 

You took a step closer to Tyler, not because you were scared of Charles, but because you liked the comfort of his presence. Something you never felt with the douche in front of you now. “You remember me telling you about Charles? This is him.” 

To Charles, Tyler showed no response to the name, but you felt the hand on your back press a little harder against your skin. Tyler turned to look at you, and there was a little glimmer in his eyes when he spoke. “I don’t actually. Are you sure you’ve mentioned someone named Charles before?” 

You had to bite back a smirk once you realized what he was up to. “Yeah, I think so.” You played along. 

“Hmmm, I must not have thought it was that important. Anyway, Tyler Owens.” He held out his hand to Charles, and you watched Charles’s face with delight. Not only had Tyler made him feel unimportant, something you knew from experience he couldn’t stand, but Tyler was . . . a big man. At least a foot taller than Charles, and more muscles on him than this guy could ever hope to have. You didn’t however expect the look of disbelief that crossed his face. 

“Tyler Owens? The tornado wrangler?” He asked, almost too shocked to shake his hand, but then he collected himself and reached for Tyler’s. 

“The very same.” He said. “Though I’ve got to say, I think my favorite title is her future husband.” He said, nodding his head back to you. 

Heat flushed straight to your face at the bold statement. Tyler and you hadn’t talked much about marriage. You had thought that might be the logical next step, but you also didn’t want to bring it up if it scared him away. With past boyfriends, including the one in front of you, it always had. You should’ve known by now though that Tyler was nothing like that. You leaned into him more now, smiling as his arm went around you and his hand rested on your stomach. 

“Her future-” Charles looked dumbfounded, and you also didn’t miss the wince when Tyler shook his hand probably more roughly than necessary. 

“Got to lock her down, you know? Plenty of other idiots have already let her go. I’m not going to make the same mistake.” Tyler replied, giving you a smile full of mischief. 

You placed your hand on top of the one he had on your stomach. “Ty, I’m having your baby. I don’t think you have to worry about that.” You assured him, your smile widening as he kissed your cheek. 

“You’re - you’re pregnant?” 

You’d almost forgotten Charles was there with Tyler’s sudden proclamation, but his words pulled your attention back to him. Turning to the side, you let him see the slight curve to your stomach. “Yep. Four months to go before we meet our baby boy.” 

As soon as you said the words, Tyler’s face lit up with genuine excitement like it always did. “I can’t wait.” He turned back to Charles, putting both of his arms around you protectively now. “How do you two know each other again?” Tyler asked, and once again you had to fight back a laugh. 

“It doesn’t matter.” You said, looking back up at Tyler with a soft smile. “We need to be getting out of here anyway right babe?” 

“Yes ma’am. Well, it was nice to meet you, Chuck.” Tyler said, stepping back from you so he could grab a hold of the cart with one hand, taking your hand in the other. 

You couldn’t hold your laughter back anymore at that point, entwining your fingers together as you followed him to the register, leaving Charles standing dumbfounded in your wake. 

________________

It was the thing you had been the most scared of happening. You had no one else to blame other than yourself though. You were the one who had insisted that Tyler go on the chase. It was supposed to be a large storm, and you reminded him that it was the last one he’d probably go on for a while since the season was ending, as was your pregnancy. You had faith that he would be careful, knowing that he wouldn’t risk anything that would endanger him from meeting his son. 

What you hadn’t expected however, was your water to break three weeks early. 

It was safe to say you were panicking when you called your sister to come get you, and by the time they wheeled you back to your room, you were close to a full blown meltdown. “I can’t do this without him.” You told her, holding your stomach as if that could keep him in, tears streaming down your face. “And he’s at least five hours away! What if I don’t have that long?!”

Your sister, who was more calm than you, grabbed your hand, giving it a squeeze. “He will make it, I’m sure. You’ve texted him right?” 

You bit your lip, and when your sister gave you a look, you blurted. “I didn’t want to ruin his chase! I thought I’d wait to see if the doctor was even going to take me!” 

“Oh my god.” She reached into your bag and grabbed your phone. You held out your hand for it, but she was already texting away. “There, done.” 

“What did you say?” 

But she didn’t answer, instead she waited about ten seconds and said, “he said he’s on his way.” 

You nodded, watching as she put your phone back in your purse. God you hoped he was going to make it. The thought of doing this without him was terrifying. You were already scared enough that something was wrong because of how early he was. Having to have this baby without Tyler by your side, reassuring you the whole way, seemed impossible. 

A few minutes later, while you were lost in your thoughts, the door to your room opened and a nurse walked in. “Hey, honey, how’re we doing?” 

“She’s panicking.” Your sister replied for you. 

You glared at her. “My boyfriend, he’s - he’s not going to be able to get here for a few hours, do you think I have that long?” 

She gave you a sympathetic smile. “Well that’s according to him I’d say, because I speak from experience when I say babies don’t wait for no one.” She said. 

Oh god, he wasn’t going to make it. You just knew it. He wasn’t going to make it in time, and you would have to try and do this without him, and you didn’t think that you could. You needed him. You needed him so badly it added to the pain you were already in, and the worst part was that it was your fault. If you hadn’t forced him to go on that chase - 

“I’m here, I’m here!” 

To your complete and utter shock, Tyler came sliding into your room, taking his cowboy hat off and hurrying to your side. 

“Ty?” Was all you could think to say.

“Did I miss anything?” Tyler asked, taking your hand in his own and looking at your nurse. 

“Dad, I assume?” The nurse said with a smile. 

Tyler beamed at the use of the word. “About to be.” 

“In that case, you haven’t missed a thing yet. We’re about to take some vitals and get this show on the road.” She informed him. “Glad you could make it.” She said, and left your room. Your sister, sensing the two of you needed some alone time, followed close behind. 

Once they had both left, your thoughts caught up to your brain, and you squeezed Tyler’s hand. “Tyler Owens, I’ve never been more happy to see you in my entire life, but how the hell did you get here so fast?” 

He gave you an affectionate smile, and reached up to wipe away the tears you didn’t even know you’d still been crying. “Yeah, so about that chase . . . I never went.” 

“You - you what?” 

He started stroking the back of your hand with his thumb. “You were less than a month away from having our son. I knew you’d blame yourself if I didn’t go, but I also knew if something happened while I was away . . . You’d blame yourself too. So I just . . . stayed at a hotel the past couple of nights.” 

You couldn’t even be mad. He knew you too well, and the relief you felt that he was here to help you was too much to be upset. “I was so scared you were going to miss it.” 

“Not for the largest tornado in the world baby.” Tyler said, bringing your hand up to his lips to kiss it. “You ready to do this?” He asked as they started wheeling in the equipment. 

Not five minutes ago you were horrified. The effect of Tyler’s presence on your emotions was remarkable. With him by your side, you had no doubts that you could do this. You could have this baby. “Now that you’re here? Definitely.” 

Tyler leaned forward to give you the last kiss the two of you would have before you were parents, the smile on his lips unmistakable. 

————————

“He looks so much like you it’s like you birthed him.” You said with a tired laugh. It was god knows how many hours later, you had never been more tired in your life, and somehow you and Tyler had squeezed into your tiny hospital bed. You were leaning against his shoulder, eyes glued to the baby he held in his arms that was looking up at you both curiously. 

“Not completely. I know that nose anywhere.” He said, gently tapping your son in the nose. Then, for the first time since his son had been placed in his arms, he looked at you, the unmistakable glint of tears in his eyes. “He’s perfect.” 

You knew that you were already emotional. You were exhausted, overwhelmed and a million other things at once, but the way Tyler was looking at your son, then at you? Your whole body seemed to light up with warmth. It was love all over his face, pure, intense love, and you didn’t think you’d ever be able to forget what it looked like again. You felt too choked up to speak, so you slipped your arm through his to curl your hand around his bicep, and turned your head to kiss his shoulder. 

A smile formed on your face as Tyler looked back at your son, that adoring expression not fading for a second. “This is the best day of my life so far.” 

“So far?” You said curiously. 

“Well, you haven’t agreed to marry me yet.” He replied, grinning over at you. 

Your smile widened, giving his arm a little squeeze. “Ty, you haven’t asked.” 

“I haven’t?” Tyler said, pretending to look confused. “It’s a great proposal. You’ll just have to wait and see.” 

You rolled your eyes, but the thought of Tyler proposing to you made you feel giddy. “Does it involve fireworks in a tornado?” You teased. 

He shook his head. “Nah, been there, done that. Boone would love it though.” Tyler shifted your son, who cuddled right against his chest. “By the way, the crew’s waiting outside with your sister.” 

You sat further up, wincing when you moved too quickly. “Jeez Tyler, how long have they been out there?” 

“Since they dropped me off.” He admitted. 

“You mean none of them went on the chase either?” You said in shock. 

Tyler shook his head again, “They said this was going to be better than any tornado.” 

Your throat clogged with emotion again, and you really hoped this crying at the drop of a hat wasn’t going to last long. “Go get them! They deserve to see him!” 

He reached up, brushing a tear away from your face. “Are you sure? I know how tired you are, and I can tell them to come back tomorrow.” 

“I can sleep when they’re gone. Right now I want them to see what they gave up a chase for.” You said, holding out your arms for the baby. 

Tyler leaned forward, giving you a kiss on your forehead and handing your son over as gently as if he was made of glass. You smiled as he snuggled right up to your chest, and knew that there was no better feeling in the world than this right here. When you looked up, Tyler was staring at the two of you as if he was trying to memorize this moment. “I love you.” He said finally. 

You felt like you could float at that moment, so light and loved. “We love you too.” You told him, and the softest smile formed on his face. “Go,” you told him before you started crying again. “We’re not going anywhere.” You joked. 

“You better not.” He played along, giving you a mock stern look, and then he went outside the door. 

Not ten seconds later you heard a cheer from outside your door, and you couldn’t help but let out a chuckle at their enthusiasm. Of course, they were shushed by nurses, and then Tyler brought them all in. 

You smiled at them as your sister, Lily, Boone, Dex and Dani’s eyes all went straight to the baby in your arms. Lily, Dani, your sister and Dex rushed forward to get a better look and started cooing over him, the biggest smiles on their faces while Boone hung back, eyes wide like he couldn’t believe the baby was a real thing.

“We got you guys something.” Dex said, holding up some familiar looking material as Tyler got back into the bed with you. He handed him the shirts, and Tyler unfolded them, letting out a laugh before showing them to you. It was similar to the normal shirts, but instead of Tyler’s face, it was a baby with a cowboy hat. That would have been hilarious enough, but instead of saying, “not my first tornadeo” it said, “this is my first babeo.” 

“Oh my god, it’s so cheesy. I love it.” You said with a laugh yourself. 

“We also got little man . . .” Dani held up a little onesie that said, “mini wrangler” on it with their tornado logo. 

You grinned, looking down at the bundle of cuteness in your arms. “It’s perfect.” You said, turning your smile to them. “Thank you guys for bringing Ty by the way, and staying. I would have understood if you all went on the chase.” 

“Are you crazy? We weren’t going to miss this.” Lily said, giving your son a little wave. 

Your eyes went over to Boone though, still standing back a little ways. The man who had gone into tornados and helped shoot fireworks and rockets up into them was looking at the baby in your arms like it was a bomb. “Hey Boone, you want to hold him?” You asked. 

“Oh, I don’t - I wouldn’t even know how-”

But Dani was already pushing him towards you. “It’s all right Boone, you got this.” You reassured him, sitting up a little more to hand him your son. 

“Make sure you get the back of his head.” Tyler said, watching with the eyes of a hawk as you gently placed him in Boone’s arms. 

“Woah.” Boone said, as he looked down at him. 

Tyler wrapped his arm around your shoulder, and now that your arms were free, you curled into his side, resting your head on his chest and wrapping your arm around his stomach. 

“T, man! He looks just like you!” Boone said, and you smiled at the excitement in his voice. 

“Except for the nose.” Tyler said, and you found your eyes closing as Tyler pressed a kiss to the top of your head. 

He was so comfortable, and you were so tired. You felt yourself starting to drift off as his thumb brushed up and down your shoulder. It was hard not to when you felt so safe and loved, surrounded by your family, your new baby and the love of your life. 

Tyler could sense it, and he leaned down to whisper in your ear. “You want me to kick them out?” 

You shook your head, tightening your grip on him. “They can stay.” You murmured, nuzzling into him. “Make sure Boone doesn’t get too excited and drop our baby.” You joked. 

“Yes ma’am.” Tyler responded with a chuckle, pulling you closer. “You go ahead and rest. I'll be here when you wake up.” 

“I know.” You mumbled sleepily with a soft smile. “You always stay.”

[godofthestupid]

energy drinks make my thoughts go radio silent and my body to feel like I haven't slept in days and the minute I lay down I will fall asleep

[bandgie]

Just Once - Say Yes

werewolf!Chan x fem!reader

warnings! MDNI 18+, biting, very slight blood mentions, PIV, no protection, rut, knotting, fingering, nipple play, reader says it hurts once, breeding mentions, monsterfucking? (I could have done more)

notes! you know im down bad when I get wet from just seeing images of chan like what the fuck?

2.5k words

Chan knows he’s not supposed to be here, yet, that’s exactly where he is. It’s almost as if he’s not in control of his body and in a way he’s not. Your scent fills his nose even through the shut door of your bedroom. You’re sleeping, he figures. He can hear your steady, slow breaths and the gentle snores. 

His feet are planted, head resting on the wooden door as he groans. Chan wants so desperately to wake you up. To softly knock on your door until you answer in the dead of the night. Maybe seeing you will satiate his thirst. Just a glance at your figure can help him - it will be enough, but he’s not thinking rationally right now. He can’t. Not when his rut is at an all-time high. Chan is on top of his suppressors, but his breeding period and the full moon makes for an unbearable combo. 

He knows you will answer no matter how late it is. Chan can easily imagine you opening the door, dazed and confused. He would tell you he’s having a hard time by himself, tell you that he desperately needs your help.

Or maybe he wouldn’t say anything at all. He could just grab your plush hips and pull you into a kiss. Maybe you’d mumble sleepy questions, squeak when his hands find the fat of your ass, but you’d let him. He knows you would. 

That’s why he has to leave. Now. His cock throbs just thinking about how pliant you are for him. He tells himself that he’ll be satisfied with his hand or his fleshight which makes a shitty substitute. Chan knows breeding a human during such an intense time would be too much, too rough for them. As much as his body and wolf beg for you, that sliver of humanity is intact.

So he whines, quiet and high. Chan wills his legs to move, stepping back until he’s no longer pressed against your door. The floorboards creak under his feet with every step. He swears they’re telling him to go back, to bang on your door and pump you until he’s sure you’re knocked up. He really has lost it, convinced that the wood beneath is telling him to screw you.

Unbelievable. 

He’s too busy laughing and fighting with himself to hear you slip out of bed. Chan misses your quiet feet treading to your bedroom door, slowly opening it as you adjust your eyes in the dark. 

“Channie?”

The floorboards must be cursed to sound like you or maybe his rut is just that bad. He tried to brush off your call as him going insane, but the hair on his neck stands and the smell of you is so much stronger. Chan doesn’t want to turn around for your sake. His composure will break and he doesn’t want to imagine what you look like right now. 

“What are you doing out here?” You sound so tired barely coming out of your slumber. Chan doesn’t sense any fear from you, not even worry. You’re far too sleepy to feel anything beyond confusion. The trust you have for your lover, even if he is half beast, is endearing. It makes his heart swell and his stomach turn. He can’t tell if your love for him is naive or pure. Perhaps both.

He’s going to tell you that he’s okay. He just had a bad dream and needed to walk around the house for a bit. It’s not uncommon to see your boyfriend wandering the house late at night; you know how difficult it is for him to sleep. Chan was going to tell you, but he felt your hand wrap around his bicep. You gently tug him until he faces you and what a mistake that is. You’re dressed in a shirt much too big for you, his shirt. It barely goes past your ass and your pebbled nipples poke through the fabric. Your eyes are squinted, lips swollen from sleep. Chan’s eyes are captivated by your human beauty when you say, “Channie, is everything okay?”

No, everything is not okay. Chan’s been fucking into his hand for hours pretending it’s you - he’s knotted into his toy countless times. When he did get the stupid courage to go to your door, he backed away. It’s even worse now his cock is leaking being so close to you.

You should have stayed sleeping.

His strong arms wrap around your torso, pulling you in. There’s no time to question him when Chan presses his lips against yours. Your lover is usually gentle during kisses. He takes time to cup your cheek, to tilt his head so your mouths can better align. If he was really into it, he would suck on your bottom lip only to bite it until you gasped.

He doesn’t kiss you like that now, not even in the slightest. His hands cup your ass just as he imagined. They knead and dig into your flesh, pressing you flush against his crotch. His lips are rough and messy. Your teeth clash almost animalistically and he hears you whine into the kiss. Chan can’t tell if you're whining due to the neediness from his mouth or cock. He knows you can feel his stiffness against your leg. 

Your dainty hands find his chest to gently push at it. Chan’s usually good at reading the room, knowing what to do and when to do it. But this isn’t your Channie. He can’t even feel your fists when he keeps shoving his tongue down your throat. The taste of you is addicting. All he wants to do is feel you from the inside out. To have every part of him connected with you in the most primal way. 

It’s not until you whimper again that he notices. Chan sucks harshly on your tongue before he pulls away with a string of saliva connecting your mouths. His eyes are dazed when he looks at your features. Your face is flushed and your eyes are wide. If you were still asleep before, you’re wide awake now. Chan can tell you’re trying to come up with what to say, but you already know. You can feel his boner on your thigh, you can see the glow in his eyes, and the fact that his body seems thicker, denser. Chan has only let you see him during the end of his rut. He’ll lock himself in his room for days until he’s ready to socialize. You could always hear him on the other side though. How the slick sounds of whatever he’s using are surely filled with cum. If you pressed your ear against the frame, you could hear him softly calling out your name. You wanted to see him so bad. No matter how many times you asked, Chan would turn you down. It’s too dangerous, he’d said. I don't want to hurt you.

But that Chan is nowhere to be found. Instead, you’re faced with the very wolf he’s tried so desperately to keep you from. 

“Sorry,” he already knows what trouble you’ll be in tonight. “Hurts so bad. I can’t take it.” Chan grinds his cock to show you. “Just one knot. Just one I promise.” Ah, a promise. You both know how much Chan loves keeping his promises, but this is one he doesn’t know you’re hoping he’ll break. 

He doesn’t even know why he’s asking. He doesn’t think stopping is possible at this point, but he’d try. Chan is already trying to ignore how his lips ache for yours and stop thinking about how perfectly your body molds into his, but you hold on to him tighter. 

Chan doesn’t hear you say yes with how loud his blood drums in his ears, but he does see you nod. The sultry look in your eyes will do you more harm than good. He doesn't ask twice, doesn’t think twice. He smashes his lips against yours again, walking you back to your room without caring how you trip over your own feet. 

You feel the bed on the back of your knees and Chan rips himself from the kiss. He pushes you on the mattress, quickly crawling over you as one of his hands lifts the shirt to your shoulder. You gasp at how quickly he’s moving. His hot mouth is already latched onto your nipple while his hand dips past your underwear. 

By some magic, you’re already wet. Chan only plays with your clit for seconds before dripping his thick fingers into your heat. Squeals and wet pumps fill the room. Your back arches when he bites on your nipple, tugging the bud and letting go before doing it all over again. Bruises are already forming on your breast and Chan is eager to make your other match. His slick fingers pull from your pussy to tug your underwear down instead.

Your panties hang from one ankle, legs wide as Chan settles between them. The entrance of your cunt slightly gapes from his fingers. No time is wasted as he shrugs his boxers off, eyes never leaving your core. You almost want to close your legs from his staring, but you would miss the view of his cock springing free. 

“Oh shit,” you gawk at his size. Chan’s always been thick, a fat head that always stretches you out just right. But this - this is massive. His rut must make everything bigger. Even the knot that sits at the base of his cock seems triple in size. “Channie, I don’t think- there’s no way in hell you can fit.”

But he’s already stroking himself. Your worries fall on deaf ears when his fat tip touches your clit. He moans at the feeling of your lips around him. He presses his cock so that it grinds against your flesh hard. Your mouth falls open, gaze dropping so you can see him rock against your pussy. 

You think you could cum just like this. His engorged cock provides the perfect veins and ridges for stimulation. Still, your cunt clenches pathetically around nothing. Curiosity is a dangerous thing. It makes you think about what it would feel like to have his raw cock in you. Chan can tell you’re ready for it when you start grinding back, tilting your hips so his tip catches your entrance. 

It’s going to fit - he’ll make sure. Even if you cry and beg for him to slow down, he knows your body will break for him.

And it does just that with the first intrusion. The swell of his cock easily slides into you with a few inches following before he meets the inevitable resistance of your tight cunt. You whine, hands finding purchase on the pillow beneath you. It doesn't hurt, not in the slightest, but you can feel the pressure. Your walls clench and squeeze his girth until he forces himself to pull an inch out.

“Baby, shit,” he breathes. Chan attempts to gain composure through controlled inhales and exhales. “Why are you always so tight?”

Before you can even think about answering his rhetorical question, he thrusts himself deeper. Chan follows his breath, using his airflow as a metronome. In, out, in, out. Deeper, inch by inch, before he sees his knot come to contact with your cunt. 

He’s trying, really trying not to just pin your hands down by your sides and fuck his hips into you. Instead, he keeps his hands at your thighs, but he’s not sure if that’s any better. Chan’s claws dig into your tender flesh leaving marks that nearly split your skin. It must hurt with how hard he’s gripping you but your eyes roll to the back of your head with every thrust. 

Just like he thought, you’re so good to him. Even with your pretty whines and whimpers, you’re still such a good girl for your Channie.

Such a good girl.

It gets to him: your flushed cheeks, your bouncing tits, the moans that tumble from your swollen lips, and how your hands have moved from the pillow to try and grasp onto him instead. You must want more, he reasons. You must with the cream he sees coating his length every time he pulls out. You must with how you’re chanting his name, nearly sobbing it. 

You must with how you make his knot ache, begging to already shove its way inside you and spill. 

Chan can imagine it, he can taste it. It’s such a strong need that he growls, his sharp canines showing from his lips pulled back into an animalistic snarl. Saliva drips down his teeth when he thinks about biting you. Leaving marks on your neck that will only help hold you down while his knot finds its place in your womb. You hardly notice the droll seeping your tummy, too caught up with how harshly Chan is fucking into you.

You do, however, feel how his hips change pace. They get harder, sloppier as if he’s trying to shove that god-forsaken knot into you. 

“Channie!” It’s half-panicked and half-breathless. “Wait! That’s not - hng! I can’t-”

“You can,” he snarls. “And I will.”

Now you can see his teeth that clamp down so hard that his drool is tinted with pink. This is the first time you’ve seen him for what he truly is - a beast. A monster in its purest form with eyes that seem to glow, pitch-black nails that will surely leave marks for weeks, and canines you know can shred you in a second. 

Even with all of that, you know that this man - this wolf - is Channie. Your Channie.

So you don’t whine against him anymore. You don’t try to escape him when he lays his head in between your shoulder and neck to sink his teeth into. You embrace the bite, fully expecting unbearable pain, but instead, it’s blinded by the stretch of his knot in you.

Pleasure and pain intertwine, unable to separate from each other when Chan completely surrounds you. But your body reacts before your brain can. You let out a yelp and scratch your dull nails down his sculpted back. Chan moans into your neck at the feeling, shoving his hips impossibly deeper just to feel you do it again. 

“Sh-shit! Channie! Hurts…” but he doesn’t see your eyes roll to the back of your head at the feeling of his seed pumping into you. 

Chan doesn’t reply, can’t reply with how he’s pulled his teeth from you and begun licking your wounds. But he knows. His balls tense and release with every spurt of cum he gives you and you whimper with every pump. 

He’ll apologize in the morning; pamper you and make sure that you’re well rested. He’ll make sure to take care of you real good, especially with the chance of you giving him pups. 

Fuck. He can’t think like that. His cock jumps at the thought and he swears his knot swells all over again. Chan inhales your human scent, reminding him that you’re his priority no matter how much his rut makes him needy to breed. But even in his frenzy state, he doesn’t dare to tell you knotting can last up to 30 minutes.

[sunboki]

⎯ for eternity longer. ⟡ featuring christopher bahng

🍼 : Christopher Bahng x implied! fem. reader

TROPE. pregnancy! au, dad! channie au, overall so so fluffy, comfort, slighttt angst if you squint

WORD COUNT. 6.4k words ☆ 30 minute read

WARNINGS. worry about delivery complications, cursing (??), anxiety, implied intercourse, regards to gender

AUG'S NOTES. i think channie would be an amazing dad :) just a thought i decided to place to paper (in this case, digitally). thank you for waiting so patiently!! please enjoy <3

PLAYLIST.

SYNOPSIS. Christopher Bahng had intentions upon one day being a father, but when the news of a little one on the way becomes the forefront of a life he’d initially spent with one world, you, he’s quickly introduced to the second world he’ll come to adore, a baby.

or alternatively :

Blossoming beginnings, and the bump.

“Channie, baby,”

His name is whispered between sleepy breaths, brows knitted where your eyes attempt at focusing amidst a slumbering haze.

The meager vision granted from a candle paves view to your husband, currently resting his cheek against the soft bump of your belly, pressing the occasional kiss there.

“It’s so cute,” He mumbles, tracing shapes along the skin, eyes crinkling into the dimpled-smile you’ve come to adore.

“‘S late.”

Offering the remark, you smooth a thumb along his jaw, dipping down to trace his bottom lip and earning a small peck against the digit in reply, chocolate irises flickering up to your face with so much love you fear you’re melting.

“I know,” Chris whispers where his lips press to your thumb, voice muffled. “I’m sorry just—“

One chaste kiss to your belly later and he cracks a smile.

“Just love it.” 

Another kiss, then another.

“Love you, love this. I’m so happy.” 

You are my world, he professes wordlessly, and you scorn the heaviness of your eyes in shielding him from view, the inability for your vocal cords to utter those same three words as you drift back to sleep.

And this is my second world, Chris thinks to himself, fighting slumber to gaze at you just a moment longer, savor. 

Because he couldn’t explain how lucky he is, and how beautiful you are, and how warm he feels, his head fuzzy and jumbled into mushy bliss.

A baby, and the thought alone makes him want to squeal.

Chris had yet to ever be hit by a tsunami (thank goodness for that), but he thinks he’s found an equivalent to the feeling.

That equivalent being a particular call while in the studio, an unsettlingly studious Han Jisung seated behind him on the couch while Changbin stands in the recording room, pointing out things in need of fine tuning.

So when you call, he’s led to believe it could be regarding dinner, maybe a date preposition away from his busied schedule.

Yet, upon hearing a sniffle, his eyes round to the size of saucers, index aptly missing where he’d click his mouse, drawing the attention of his fellow producers, their eyes narrowed in mild concern.

“Chris.. baby, I know this is so.. so sudden but,” Between your hiccups and his heart racing, he reruns everything that could’ve gone amiss. He knew you were running late when it came to your period thanks to the cycle-tracking app on his phone, but then again, usually it’d miraculously show up.

Maybe he’d said something? Forgotten something?

Birthday, anniversary, a family member passing?

His head fills with a plethora of possibilities, too many to pinpoint.

“Baby I,” You pause, and Chris rises up to slip to the corner of the room, shushing you gently.

“Hey, hey honey, ‘need you to take deep breaths, okay? It’s okay, it’s gonna be okay. Tell me whenever you’re ready.” He consoles, shifting from foot to foot in a futile attempt at warding the nerves.

A sharp inhale and then-

“We’re having a baby, Chris. I’m pregnant.”

It’s hard for you to even believe, and Chris swears his stomach jumped to his throat for a moment, making hurried eye contact with an evidently confused Han and Changbin from across the studio.

Pregnant.

Immediately abandoning his work, he grants the two a hurried nod they simply wave in response to, fervently racing from the building and somehow managing to avoid a ticket on his 20-mile-over-the-speed-limit drive home, rushing through the doorway to scoop you up into his arms and hold you close, let you cry as much as you need.

Hell, he’s not the one carrying the baby anyway. You’re the one in need of all the fretting.

As if he didn’t fret over you anyway.

Tender fingers ease back the strands of hair from your face, pressing kiss after kiss to your sniffling frame.

If you want to keep the baby, if you need time to think, time to be alone, he’s ready for that. All of it. 

Though contraceptives were always in play when it came to the bedroom, it seemed some things would remain out of control.

“I’m.. hic.. I’m keeping it, okay?”

And he’s okay with that, okay with anything his beloved decides upon, thumbing the tears from your pretty face to place a slow kiss to your lips.

On this presumably routine Thursday of his, Chris finds out he’s going to be a Dad.

If there was an acute title to cover the months of your pregnancy, it would be: Ways Christopher Bahng Has Lost His Mind, A Saga. 

Plus the bump, of course.

As for today, at a darling twelve weeks, Chris’s cup of coffee grows cold the longer he entertains a call from Jisung—currently being berated for failing to give them even the slightest clue what was going on until dropping the news.

..In which ensues a screaming Hyunjin in the background, Minho’s snide jokes, Changbin’s silent shock, and the evident awe of the surrounding members leering by the phone where the friend group went for drinks.

Minus the dad-to-be.

”So.. Daddy-O, how’s the father thing going for you?” Jisung offers after a moment, his snickering followed by Chris’s bemused scoff. 

“A dream,” He replies, running a hand through curly brown strands wound into charming coils from earlier steam, having stepped from the shower moments ago.

It was true, every bit.

To think that you, his love he’s worried more about than anyone, spent countless nights awake thinking of has now granted him the greatest gift of a lifetime leaves him elated. 

Trust, the first ultrasound he cried as if he was the baby.

Of course, failing to give their leader a second of reprieve, his remark earns a cacophony of swooning and cringing in response to the sappiness.

Nonetheless, since the announcement he’s organized an update in schedule. More work from home, more paychecks cashed into maternity magazines and things he learns with time in order to support your pregnancy, and tagging along to each and every checkup.

With you already sleeping and him returning late from the studio, the night is slow, quiet. 

Well, after he hangs up.

”Hey sweetness, ‘sorry for waking you.”

Watching your face crinkle up as the bed dips beneath his weight, he reaches a hand forward, sweeping the hair from your face as your husband spoons you close to his back, exhaling a heavy sigh of relief.

Your smell, your warmth, touch.

He’s far too smitten to be healthy.

But then again, is there any remedy to adoration?

“Busy at the studio?” You murmur from your curled up spot, only just beginning to get used to sleeping on your side.

Of the many adjustments.

“Mm,” A nod nudges at your back, his fingertips—oh so careful as they roam—settling on your stomach, holding the skin with reverence you can’t help but hum in response to.

“I cannot believe you,” Begun with a bemused scoff, you earn your husbands grunt of confusion and yet another laugh on your end.

“There’s barely a bump and they’ve got you wrapped around their finger already.”

This, predictably, results in Chris’s boyish whine. 

“‘S not my fault,” He groans like a petulant teenager, nosing at the nape of your neck. 

“Just love you.” 

His voice is a mere utterance amidst the fan overhead, and you have to crane to hear him.

“And I’m going to be learning to love someone else soon.”

A soft squeeze to your belly.

“How exciting.” 

Twenty weeks, and your big journey comes in the form of grocery shopping, something you insisted upon doing alone (much to Chris’s fretting).

Although he tries his best in not being a mother hen, it’s beyond difficult without his instinctive worry butting in, so nervous for a reason he himself can’t even pinpoint.

Is he worried about you? Is he excited about the baby? 

Endless questions swim in his mind, dappling a world he once knew as black and white into shades of pastel, with charming rubber duckies and pacifiers to boot.

It’s a new world, one full of unfamiliar things and little surprises along the way. 

But he’s made his promise to lay off the stressing as much as he can, knowing you need time for you most of all before becoming new parents.

Crouched over the tiny home studio he’s procured, your husband arduously searches through files—sending the majority over to Jisung and Changbin for revisions back at the main studio.

From the corner or his vision does he see you and—

Ah.

There you stand, clad in a sweater of yours tucked into a long, flower-patterned skirt—just enough to show off the bump, and he swears he’s looking at you with heart-eyes.

Gorgeous.

If not more.

Yet another reason why Chris has lost his mind.

You’re more beautiful than anyone he's ever seen, and he doubts that factor will change for the rest of his life. Even when you’re emotional and begin growing insecure, when your feet hurt or when your cravings grow too volatile, he adores.

Too much sometimes he fears his heart will beat from his chest. 

“Hi, sweetness.” 

The words are a bit hoarse, spoken as if he were uttering the endearment through a tube. 

“Hi, Channie.”

Shoot him.

Joking.

Kind of.

You’re too cute. He’s going to have a heart attack. 

Looking like that, cupid has his job cut out for him.

“You headed out?”

Reaching for your bag does Chris rise from his chair, padding over to gather your face in his hands and press a slow kiss to your lips you soak up, your own hands winding into curly strands he groans in response to.

“Mm,” He begins after a moment, kiss after kiss pressed to your jaw, down your neck, by your earlobe his teeth nip at. “I’m getting déjà vu on how the baby got here, hm?”

Spurring your laughter and a light smack to his shoulder in response, his warm hands slip down to cradle your belly, a final touch followed by one last kiss before you’re off.

It’s much too easy to fall in love with this man over and over again.

.

.

.

Of many surprises throughout your pregnancy, Lee Minho knowing about babies happened to be yet another. That, and seeing him at the grocery store in the first place.

The baby food aisle is more than daunting, and while the determined part of you crooned about “making it yourself” and taking the time to mash up each and every carrot and apple slice, the sensible part knew the moment you were discharged from the hospital after delivery, there was no chance you’d take on such a task.

“This one’s good.”

Having been greeted with a small wave of his hand and quieted footsteps approaching close, the dancer peers into your cart, brows lifted in silent acquisition where he points to a brand of mashed banana purée. 

How he knows this baby food is good is beyond you. 

Then again, Minho has always been peculiar.

“Hm? Any other recommendations?” You ponder, deciding to entertain his conversation and gaining plenty of recommendations whilst roaming about in the process.

Though, that’s before a frivolous little boy comes blindly tottering along, his clumsy limbs aimed straight for you prior to Minho’s careful step shielding you, the panicked mother steering the toddler away with endless apologies.

About to thank him, he seems to beat you to it.

“Mm? Need to sit down?” Observant eyes flitting over your form, he places an assuring hand to the middle of your back you can’t help but feel appreciative of.

It’s not that Minho isn’t kind, he’s usually just.. more subtle about it. Putting extra food a member likes on their plate without them noticing, making sure everyone feels included during dinners.

So for him to be a bit more upfront about it is.. sweet.

Well, until a wry smile tugs at his lips in amusement.

“‘Think you can handle that? A toddler like that?”

And.. there’s the Minho you’re used to.

“I think..” The thought comes to you as you venture, his hand remaining where it lingers upon your sweater-clad back as you make for the checkout line.

“The baby will look more like Chris.”

This beckons a cocked brow, evident mischief on his face.

“What, balding at twenty-six?”

You were thinking cute, with Chris’s curls and big brown eyes but— yeah, that too apparently. Your husband would both burst out laughing and burst into tears if he were here, the mental image bringing a smile to your lips.

Nevertheless, you spend your time with the feline-like companion cracking not-so-funny jokes and snide but playful remarks, a silent “thank you” mouthed when he lifts the grocery bags from your hands to carry to the car.

“Say, what’re you doing over here anyway?” 

“Mmh?” He perks up, fluffy bangs fringing beneath a bucket hat upon his head, the slow gust of an occasional breeze announcing Winter’s gradual departure, moseying on to Spring.

“Ah,” Bunny-like teeth peek from his upper lip when his lips part, hoisting a single bag of his own upward. “Food for the kitties.” 

Of course.

The corner of your lips quirk into a grin.

Though, before you’re given the chance to slip into the front seat, he points again, regarding your bump this time.

“Should stop by sometime,” He starts, pausing before glancing down to your feet. “Or I can come to you two if you’re not up to it.” 

There it is, the tiny shred of consideration you treasure, one so swift you may miss it if you aren’t listening closely that warms your heart effortlessly.

“The kitties would knead your belly,” Mumbled quieter than the rest, a giggle stirs from his chest, wishing you off after a few moments the same way he greeted you: a wave and a small, awkward, tight-lipped smile.

And on your ride home, you decide upon giving Chris a call.

“Do you think the baby will start balding early?”

A chaste silence and some crackling from the other side of the line and then- 

“What.”

“‘M outside the studio, baby.”

“You’re what?”

A second “what”, after the balding question those few weeks ago.

Chris wants to think tricks are being played on him after having pleaded for you to stay home and wait to be pampered when he returns, but it seemed the leader—with his own stubborn tirade of seven—had forgotten his wife was equally as stubborn, and that if you were adamant on something, there’s no chance you’d budge.

And so, as the ultimate pushover(which he’ll admit himself) of a husband, he simply sighs, awaiting your precious, slightly-waddling figure making towards them from the elevator.

Ah, right. 

The waddle.

Oh if it doesn’t make his heart soar.

You’re almost surreal, with your soft, rounded frame and sweet, sweet eyes making him simply want to keep you in a hug forever.

From beside him, Hyunjin starts into a sing-song cacophony of: “The Mrs.’s is here” in tandem with your entrance, resulting in Chris’s light smack to his friend’s shoulder and the reddening of his ears as he both tries (and fails) to focus on new tracks.

So now, in occupying the couch behind him with Han on one side and Felix on your other, you spend your time giggling over videos on the freckled blond’s phone, chowing down on a bag of potato chips placed between you and Han, entertaining light conversation with Changbin, and sharing those momentary glances with your husband.

Quiet looks, with his face drained from the workload not failing to light up where he meets your eyes, your own warming happily. 

“Come home,” does your eyes speak.

“Just a little longer,” he replies without words.

 As the day stretches it’s exhaustion, waning a warm hue into evening sunset, Chris pads over, slow and wary where your sleepy form props upon the couch, fuzzy-sock-clad feet elevated on a pillow courtesy of Hyunjin’s matter-a-fact scolding to lower the swelling.

“I’m letting the little one listen,” He whispers, this squeaky, cheery giggle leaving his lips where he places the headphones once in hand overtop your belly, the low hum of their newest, unreleased track faintly resounding against the skin you can’t help but grin at.

It’s a scary thing, you think for a moment.

And then, just happy.

So you’ll cling to that happiness, no matter how fleeting. 

And a tiny nudge against the skin, a kick, tells you someone else is clinging to that happiness as well.

“Yah.. even if it’s almost spring, there’s still some breeze! Stay warm! Don’t try being a spring chicken!” Clicking his tongue in softened contempt, Han claps his hands resolutely, face scrunched up in conviction as the ever-adorable maknae, Jeongin, eases his jacket over your shoulders.

Resulting in the group’s ace’s squeal of affection and a harsh smack to Minho’s thigh, the older of the two fixes him with a glare Han fails to notice through his cooing, too busy admiring the bump peeking through the jacket.

It seems Chris isn’t the only one growing into a worried mess, and your trip home from the studio you press to take alone is filled with their hollering and well-wishes, the group having opted out for drinks knowing you’d be the odd one out with your mug of water relative to the bubbling of a beer, a matter you find heart-warming.

No less, you spend your night anticipating the arrival of a very sleepy Chris, busying yourself trying to follow a recipe without gagging at the most random of things.

Feebly managing through placing the tray in the oven, you deflate as a pair of long-awaited, warm arms come wrapping around you.

A mere lift from his hands, holding the weight of a nearly 30-week bump feels heavenly, and you simply groan, head lolling back against his shoulder, welcoming the kisses pressed to your cheek, neck.

Because as much as his own nerves are afire, Chris knows more than anything it’s pivotal for you to be taken care of as well. Making breakfast before heading out in the mornings, sending you little texts to remind you to stay hydrated.

Tiny things you hold close to your being, even if he isn’t aware.

Thank you, spoken amidst his subtle care.

I know, I love you, answered upon joining you in your nightly skincare.

“Ah? Really?”

Chatter after chatter fills the small bathroom, your spare bedroom already ransacked of its contents in making room for a nursery.

As for the conversation at hand, Chris fills you in on his dango pudding obsession while you busy yourself in applying moisturizer to his skin, a silly, matching headband to yours pulling back the hair from his face.

“Jisung got me hooked on it,” He grumbles, lashes fluttering down to fondly watch where you press a kiss to his lips before applying vaseline there, his fingers instinctively reaching for your pajamas like a clingy child.

You don’t mind.

“How’re you feeling?” He murmurs after a moment, head tipped quizzically, the slight knit of his brows in concern you wish to scowl at.

Sometimes it’s harder not swooning when it comes to your husband.

“You know me,” You start, scorning your ability to hear each thump of your heart in your chest within the quietness of the room. “I’m okay, yeah? The fatigue is just a pain, that’s all.”

His arms finding purchase on either side of the bathroom counter where he cages you in, you’re quickly reminded how this pregnancy came to be the longer you stare at his biceps, the veins littering upwards from his hands.

Not fair.

“You tell me, hm? If you need me to work from home more days, yeah? I will, you know that, honey.”

And of course he’s like some sort of forbidden fruit, so sweetly wholesome, sweet generally, when he looks so good. 

Too good.

For a time again, not fair.

“Chris.”

Screw it. You’re pregnant, and rightfully hot and bothered.

A little thing about pregnancy that no one had bothered to let you in on? There’s never been a greater time in your life that you’ve felt this horny.

Plus, an okay from the doctor is an okay to you. 

The other okay is his arms, and the utterly obscene things running through your head just looking at them as your hand finds his jaw to hold.

“I’d cry from how good you are to me if it weren’t for the fact I’m unbelievably worked up right now.”

Slowly do your arms loop around his shoulders, pulling him closer where a smile tugs at your lips, watching his own lips part in a shaky exhale, pupils dilating tenfold as your words sink in.

And it’s Chris’ turn in reminding himself how the pregnancy came to be.

“So let’s do something about it, hm?”

The press of his nose into your neck causes your lashes to flutter, cursing the streaks of sunlight peering through the blinds muddling already bleary vision. A warm grip beckons you closer snuggled against his bare chest, hands instinctively coming to soothe over your belly.

Habitual touch, comfort.

A dream, last night had been. As for now, you bathe in the afterglow, his scent enveloping you like an embrace you can’t bring yourself to pull away from.

“Think I’ll be a good dad?”

And then comes the quiet conversation. Soft and nearly inaudible, his breath tickling your shoulder.

“I know you will,” Comes your own reply, muffled against the pillow, a kiss pressing to your shoulder in appreciation.

“I just-“

He takes a breath, weighing the thought. 

It’s a coarse silence, one you know not to interrupt. He considers his words like this, a characteristic you’ve come to adore over the years. The blinking fast, the hesitant humming.

“You know how much I look up to my Dad, and I worry I just- I won’t live up to tha—“

Now it’s your turn to step in, before he goes over his head and blames himself again and again for a matter never his responsibility. The selfless one, who you remind must take care of himself too. 

Amid simple kisses or compliments scribbled on sticky notes, you find love between the lines.

“Chris. Chris, baby, listen to me. This baby loves you, I hope you know that. And I hope you know that I love you, and whatever happens next happens next.”

Inhaling slowly, you roll over to face your husband.

Covers drawn up to see only his eyes, it’s near foolish the smile you let on.

“You said it yourself, we’re in this together, okay? If we change, we change together. We move? We move together.”

His fervent nod, dearest eyes gleaming all watery make your heart clench.

“This is our first time being parents, you can’t expect to be perfect, yeah? All we can do is try,”

Careful hands come to cup his face, kissing his lips through the fabric of the bedsheets.

“And you’re trying so hard, so thank you. I don’t feel like I praise you enough for all that you do for me, hm?”

He’s quiet before soft, heart wrenching sniffles are heard, swiping at his eyes with the back of his hand and grumbling to himself like a toddler.

“I feel like.. such an idiot.. crying when you’re the one carrying the baby.. hic.. Plus ‘s my.. my job to take care of you, yeah? ‘M your husband..”

Gently smoothing along his waterline in hushed reassurance does the man pull himself upward, slow to climb atop your form, littering your face in feverish pecks you can’t help but laugh at while the heels of your palms gently push at his jaw in playful aversion.

“I’m gonna make some breakfast,” He noses at your chin, the only sound between the both of you slow breaths and the occasional sniffle, the heat of his skin burning through you like wildfire. 

Chris has become a warm blanket for your cold winter, even more so during the pregnancy.

“And you are going to eat eggs.”

In which earns your groan, regarding the food scornfully for its rude manner of sparking nausea. Of the many things nauseating you these days. Volatile in manner.

“‘S good for the baby. ‘Just a bite.”

Another groan, swatting lightly at his shoulder in retaliation.

Prior to an ingenious idea breaching the forefront of your mind.

A tiny detail you’d been holding in, with your lack of fondness for an extravagant baby shower or a gender reveal, you’d planned a morning-in to be the perfect timing for an announcement.

Now coming to be this morning.

Because while Chris had been running to the car, you’d been in the thick of a sonogram all those weeks back, a dirty little secret having been told that the nurse swore to keep quiet.

“Chris.”

Eyebrows lifting in gentle curiosity, you want to hate the way your mischievous streak is melting, the stubbornness fading into your own glossy eyes and trembling lips, and a whole rush of distress and concern washes overtop the man above you like a bucket of ice cold water.

“It’s a girl.”

A sharp gasp, a choked sniffle.

“We’re having a baby girl.”

To say Chris cried like a baby for an additional time that morning would be a mass understatement.

Cried and cried and cried endlessly, before calling his parents first and crying more, then Hannah, then the guys.

Face all puffy and happy, you spent your day waltzing around the kitchen to the low buzz of the radio seated upon the far corner of your counter, sharing kisses he can’t seem to get enough of and too much smiling it made your cheeks ache.

.

.

.

Currently thirty-six weeks and perilously close to the awaited due date, the faint clatter in your periphery earns a startled huff of air, once-napping eyes flickering open, lids heavy from past slumbering.

A common occurrence, the constant sleeping, fatigue overboard. Although morning sickness has graciously subsided, the sleepiness is endless in her torrents.

As for now, each slow lull of the rocking chair the guys had assembled a few minutes prior continues her magic in beckoning you sleepy and sleepier.

“Shh dumbass— you’re gonna wake her up!”

And… beckons whisper-screaming from the group who had insisted upon helping set up the nursery. 

“Don’t curse in front of the baby!”

Han and Felix’s grumbled argument is returned with a scolding “Shh!” from Seungmin, inducing yet another—however brisk—silence, the faint hint of a chortle from your husband falling upon near deafened ears while drifting in and out of consciousness.

Nonetheless, the group continues to build, having now moved onto assembling furniture after the room’s paint had been finished. A mellow pink, not too muted nor saturated, highlighted when the room grows aglow with drifting rays of sunlight.

Hitched just to the right of the window, the crib’s being assembled, Changbin arduously working to follow directions, Minho taking a break on one of the couch cushions with a popsicle lodged between his lips.

Surprising, considering the slow shift in temperature. Autumn makes its entrance, summer waving a goodbye hand in the now-shorter days and a subtle breeze detected in early mornings. 

A September baby, it seems.

“Corner guards? Do we have corner guards?”

An ever organized (and rather caffeine-frenzied) Hyunjin reviews the list once more, having spent his night prior holed up in the studio for recording, obstinate in participating in the nursery despite the ushers to get some sleep instead.

“I have to be here, it’s my duty as an Uncle”, were his exact words, haughtily prancing about as if some entitled interior designer.

And yet he brought alive an enthusiasm like no other. So the guys let him stay without dragging him back home.

In the distance, a low strum of a guitar echoes, Seungmin’s soulful cadence recognizable amidst any crowd.

A lullaby for the baby, but you had yet to know of that just yet.

“Alright… curtains.. ‘gotcha…” Felix mumbles after taking a break from the crib-squabble between Han, his brows furrowed in concentration where Jeongin aids in lifting the canopy portion planning to hang above the crib, Chris organizing the small things. 

A baby mobile with stars and little planets, a crescent moon rug.

And a tiny feature you take note of while awakening more and more, the little stars painted on the ceiling, like this miniature galaxy. 

It’s so…Chris.

It’s perfect.

The thought makes your lips tug upward, a certain fondness blossoming there.

His world, he’d called the baby.

Fitting, isn’t it?

One week to the due date with the autumn equinox around the corner, your days slip together in a melody of fluffy jackets and fuzzy socks, warm cider Chris ushers instead of coffee—“for the baby”, he says, but begrudgingly fixes you a menial cup after the cocked brow you fix him with. 

A baby-bag is packed up for the awaited day of your delivery, and this journey of yours drawing to a close leads to an even more frazzled husband of yours.

Constantly peeking in on you, his lips parted without a question needing to be asked until the bathroom door is slammed in his face after peering in worriedly for a fourth time, earning a squeaky: “sorry!” in reply.

You love him, yes, but not enough to allow a spectator during your bowel movements.

The gesture is appreciated, trust.

Nevertheless, with a now-evident waddle you despise that Chris utterly fawns over, you head to the downtown bakery, motivated by your relentless craving for a cinnamon roll and the feeble determination in battling the dropping temperatures, Seoul’s seasonal shifts as intermittent as your mood swings.

“Two?” You mumble, index extended to the steaming cinnamon rolls in thought, currently using the coat-clad Chris behind you as support, his warm hands steadying your hips, gentle thumbs tracing circles along your sides over his jacket you’d donned.

Nodding into your hair, the man weighs his chin atop your head, granting the kind older woman working the register a small smile, her eyes flickering to the prominent bump fondly prior to fetching the highly-anticipated cinnamon rolls and inquiring how many weeks you were.

“Thirty-nine weeks,” Came the reply, giggling like children on the way home, cheeks flushed pink from bitter winds, sniffling in with each bite of the napkin-held pastry.

“Yah! I should’ve said I wasn’t pregnant and acted all offended, shoot!”

The words followed by a feigned tantrum, Chris has to hold in his laughter, snorting futilely.

“You’re cruel, y’know that?” Scoffing his exasperation does your husband continue to crack even crueler jokes than that of yours on the walk home, acting as an anchor to your aching bones and tirelessly pained back until the sink of the couch cushions beneath your frame serve as the perfect solace.

It’d been the blueprint for an ideal night in. Cinnamon roll long-since digested, a to-die-for massage provided by your husband, and the expectation of doing purely nothing for the remainder of your night.

Until the blueprint went awry upon brushing your teeth.

Curse that damn toothbrush.

Kidding.

“Channie.”

Between Chris, Channie, and terms of endearment, your husband could be an ex-convict with so many names.

Yet he responds to every and all, and at this very moment you’re more grateful than ever for that.

This time, his peeking-in is greatly appreciated.

“I either peed myself or my water just broke.”

It was meant to hopefully lighten the atmosphere, but your efforts prove feeble watching the color drain from his face, white as a sheet.

And just like that, the journey came to its close, in a finale neither of you were expecting, but one your husband confronted head on, trying his hardest in keeping both himself and you calm while loading up all the prepared things.

Baby bag, your printed out birth-plan discussed all those weeks ago while sharing a bath, extra clothes, nursing bras, all the required cards, and a billion other things Chris doesn’t even bother to search for in helping you into the car, reminding himself he could ask someone else to drop by or pick it up after.

Right now, you would remain his sole focus.

That, and the little one who’s decided to make her grand entrance a week from his birthday.

An early present, it seems.

Everything’s too fast, too hurried. The beeping of machinery, hurrying nurses in their scrubs, the nauseating scent of antiseptic overwhelming the hospital. 

You and the baby, you and the baby, you and the baby.

Those four words run rampant in his mind, like some sadistic form of tunnel vision.

Luckily swift in their efforts, you’d been wheeled off to the nicest room available, your husband blind to the price of anything at the moment where he follows you back, guiding each sharp gasp while you work through hellish contractions, squeezing his hand like a vice he vows to never let go of.

Though initially as smooth as a delivery could go, the process is seemingly endless, and Chris curses the exhaustion wracking his frame after the eighth hour stretches on, menial complications requiring moments longer to the already strain-inducing process. 

And of course, to the words he’d never heard you utter before.

“You FUCKER!”

In which earns your jittery-husbands wobbly smile, smoothing strands of hair where they stick to a sweaty forehead, whispering praises on autopilot.

At this rate, he can’t even tell who you’re referring to, but that thought lies in the very back of his mind.

“When I- shit- get out of here I expect to be- FUCK!— worshiped- ‘cause this hurts like a bitch!”

This earns the midwives equally exhausted smiles, working tirelessly with each push. 

By the ninth hour, you shakily assure him to go get a drink, take a walk, a matter he curses beneath his breath yet follows through with no less, legs like jelly, hand aching from your crushing-hold where your husband slumps into the chair opposite to the vending machine, caught in a weary daze. 

Then a hand finds itself on his shoulder he has to stave back the reflex to flinch from, and an out-of-breath Minho stands there—unfamiliar in the utter seriousness of his expression, the lack of teasing usually exhibited—alternatively familiar faces of his friends jogging after the second eldest. 

His first surprise of the night.

Of two, but the second surprise had yet to occur.

“We took the closest taxi,” Jisung manages, out of breath. “You.. You said there was complicat-“

Like a deer in headlights, the shrill wail of a baby rings out, gathering his full attention in split seconds. 

And somehow, he knows that’s his.

Yours, together.

Chris’s second surprise.

His heart stops.

In all his life, Christopher Bahng doesn’t think he’s ever seen someone so pretty.

With seven curious faces peeping in from the doorway behind him, he takes slow steps in approaching you, ethereal with your breathlessly proud smile and the tiny, swaddled thing to your frame, comfy and cozy in their mother’s scent.

Pink blankets. 

And although he already knew it was a girl, the way he chokes up without a word being spoken earns both yours and the nurse’s laughter, tainting his ears a reddened shade of embarrassment.

“I’m so proud of you,” He murmurs, wiping tenderly at tear streaks littering those darling cheeks of yours. “So, so proud.”

An angel, he swears, pressing a long, slow kiss to your lips, then a small peck to your forehead. It appears the wailing fit had subsided, and as for now, this precious little one curls up to your chest.

His baby.

A sob wracks his chest, and in the distance a giggle (likely Minho) is faintly audible that Chris doesn’t even bother scolding, each and every feeling imaginable snuffed to nothing when those eyes pinch open.

Chocolate brown, just like her daddy’s. That perfect, so, so perfect honeyed hue.

Precious.

“She’s.. hic.. so beautiful..”

It’s downright pitiful the manner he cries, like a child, trembling hands reaching for her after your whispered assent, assurance, cradling the baby to his chest.

And remarkably enough, she smiles.

This gummy, delighted smile.

Right then and there, the gravity of the moment punctures his chest, and a silent vow is made that with everything in his being, he will protect her. His daughter.

“Your Daddy loves you.”

Barely heard yet understood all the same, an oh so careful kiss is pressed to those unruly curls, unbelievable in their resemblance to her father’s.

A splitting image, with your charming nose and his puffy lips.

You were right. That time at the grocery store.

Oh to adore.

His second world, who he’ll clap for all cheerfully upon her first steps, her first words, all of it. Through the good and the bad times and everything in between.

His second world, with a father who already loves her, unconditionally. 

And who knows he will for the rest of his life.

Ensuring you’re cared for those four days before discharge, Chris spends his time easing you through each painful endeavor, helping you through the saddened and elated moments, those private moments where all you wish for is to be held.

He holds you, for as long as you need.

Despite the challenges and hardships to come, the man can’t help but think of just how beautiful you are. With your stretch marks, the baby weight, the things you hate, the things he loves. Reflecting how hard you worked, bringing this precious baby girl into the world.

It’s impossible for you to be anything but breathtaking.

His wife, he mumbles into your hair, a habit of his, whilst swaying you from side to side in slow rhythm, the little one fast asleep in her bassinet.

The first night home with the baby, Minho’s already taken to the kitchen, preparing dinner regardless of your sleepy beckoning for him to head home where you stand by the doorway, awakened by the unusual silence where your little girl’s normal squeals would be ricocheting off the walls. 

It seems the Uncles are already smitten.

Fuzzy sock-clad feet thump to your next destination: the nursery.

And there lies your greatest loves, with Chris’s steps weighing side to side just as he’d always do when dancing with you, a bottle in hand held to her lips where she sleepily suckles, a smile of adoration tugging at his lips opposing the circles beneath his eyes.

You don’t think you’ve ever been so enamored before.

And just as that evening in building the nursery, Seungmin’s quietly composed lullaby drifts from the speaker on the changing table, its lyrics like that of the sweetest hymn.

‘My little girl, will you ever know how much I love you?’

‘As much as the stars in the sky, and the grains of sand on the beach.’

‘You are my universe, and I shall love you.’

‘Love, love, love.’

‘For eternity longer.’

sunboki, may 2022 ©

FIC TAGLIST. @manuosorioh @captainchrisstan @bowsnbang @sh1ny4lex @alisonyus @certifiedchangbinlover

[nanaslutt]

Man child Gojo Satoru

synopsis: you and Gojo have a newborn, and he's jealous of the little brat taking up all your attention

cont: fem reader, established relationship, dirty talk, lactation kink (very brief), gojo is a big baby, oral(f!r), masturbation, jealousy

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

You press a kiss to the little boy's head, his pretty white hair resembling that of his father's tickling your cheek as you pull away. You place your hands on the side of the crib and smile at the little man before you walk out of his room, leaving the door slightly cracked as you leave.

You and Satoru had placed the baby's room adjacent to your own so you could hear him crying easily, it also made you feel better about being so close to him. He was your whole world, aside from the other man baby who was currently standing in your bedroom doorway with his arms crossed, only dressed in a white t-shirt and tight boxers.

Satoru opened his arms as he welcomed your embrace, your body falling against his as you melted against his chest, wrapping your arms around his waist. "Every day I thank the gods we didn't end up with a fussy baby. He goes to sleep so easy." Gojo smiled, placing his chin on the top of your head. 

You pulled your head off of his chest and looked at him deadpan, "and he sure as hell didn't get that from you." you jabbed before pulling away and slipping under his arm as you entered your bedroom. Satoru was hot on your tail, turning on his heels quickly he kicked the bedroom door shut, following you in your pursuit towards the bed.

"Are you tryna pick a fight with me right now?" Gojo teased, raising his eyebrows as your body bounced on the bed as you sat on the edge. Your eyes followed his as he quickly made his way between your legs, standing between them. You shut your eyes as Gojo cupped your face, his fingers caressing the skin of your cheeks and neck soothingly. You hummed at his comforting touch, letting your hands instinctually reach out and rest weakly against his hips.

"I have no energy to fight with you." You responded, leaning your head against one of Gojo's palms as he kept up the touch, his watchful eyes taking in the gorgeous expanse of your tired face. Gojo hummed, his pitch raising in a question, "You? Have no energy to fight with me?" Gojo asked in astonishment, letting out a small giggle at his own words.

You nodded, obviously sleepy enough that you were even unable to respond to his teasing. "Awww, poor baby." Gojo cooed, trying to hide his teasing tone behind faux sympathy. Your hands fell to his hair as he got down on his knees slowly, one leg after the other, until his chest was pressed against the side of the bed as he laid between your legs.

"Want me to help you relax, mommy? Satoru teased, pressing soft kisses to your inner thighs, his fingers teasing the skin of your legs hidden by the soft satin of your night shorts. You sighed heavily, your hands carding through his hair your husband continued to pepper soft kisses agaisnt your legs, causing goosebumps to appear on your skin. 

"Satoru..." You sighed, your head tipping back as he inched his lips closer and closer to where you knew you needed him the most. Gojo was so nimble, always waiting until your weakest moment when he knew you couldn't refuse him to pounce. Satoru never once stopped his soft lips from caressing your skin, not even when he slipped his fingers into the waistband of your shorts and started sliding them down, over your ass, and down the soft skin of your legs.

Gojo's hungry eyes took in the bareness of your cunt. He loved that you didn't wear panties when you slept, it made certain sunrise activities way more convenient and accessible to Gojo. He could smell your arousal from the proximity of your cunt to his face. He so badly wanted to lean in and part your folds with his tongue, exposing just how wet you were between them. He could feel himself start to salivate just thinking about it.

"Satoru not tonight... I'm so tired." You pleaded, no real seriousness behind your words, and Gojo knew that. "I know baby, I know. Don't gotta do anything, just lay back and let me make you feel good. Let me do allllll the work~" Gojo cooed in his teasing sing sing-songy voice, his breath tickling your skin as he pressed a kiss to the inner spot where your leg and body meet. 

You laid back against the sheets, your body falling into them with a soft 'thwump' as the smooth silk welcomed your tired body. Gojo sat up on his knees and placed your thighs over his shoulders, getting into position before he properly ate you out. "Satoru..." You tried to protest weekly, your exhaustion hitting you tenfold when the sheets caressed your body so comfortingly, like they were trying to lull you into dreamland as you lay there.

"I haven't touched you in weeks because of that kid. He gets your attention more than I do these days." Gojo sulked, "Don't push me away." His words were followed by his hands squeezing your thighs harder as he held them over his shoulders. You cracked a smile at his words, your head tipping down slightly so you could look at him as you spoke, "Satoru, he's a baby, are you really jealous of a baby?" You ask, holding back a laugh.

You were unable to keep your head up for long. The soreness seeping into your bones made you drop your head back against the sheets before he could respond. "A baby that sees your tits more than I do..." Satoru tsked, pursing his lips as he pouted, trying to look at your face. "My tits," you repeated the vulgar word, "are his food, Satoru." You responded, shaking your head at his childishness.

"They could be mine too....." Gojo mumbled, his voice almost quiet enough that you missed it. Satoru was groveling for a reason you were very familiar with. You let him try your breast milk before the baby was born, and clearly, that had been a huge mistake. Not only had Gojo gotten to suck on your tits and relieve you of your pain, but he got to taste another part of you, and from the first drop, he has been addicted.

You only let him try your milk one other time before the baby was born and he curses you every day for not letting him taste you more, because the little milk monster you popped out was a gluttonous baby cow. He greedily drank up all of your milk every time he fed, and cried for more. Which was good for you and the baby, but the worst thing imaginable for Gojo. 

You knew Gojo would get addicted, which is why you limited his supply before the baby was born, but clearly, two times was too many to expose him to such a rare treat. "For the last time, this is food for our baby child, not my grown man child." You sighed, some of your snarkiness coming back to you as Gojo's warm hands and lips caressed your skin, waking you up a bit. 

"I don't care how many times you tell me that, I'm not going to get over it." Satoru retorted, resting his head against your thigh in defeat, the soft strands of his hair tickling your skin and he rubbed against you. You sighed before you spoke, your eyes darting around the ceiling as you gathered your words. "Are you... really feeling neglected...?" You asked, your thighs subtly squeezing against Gojo's neck as you felt your arousal start to creep up on you.

Gojo perked up at your words, his fingers teasing the skin of your thighs as he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the skin right above your clit, teasing you. "So neglected baby... just wanna taste my wife's pussy and I can't even do that." Gojo pouted, putting on his best act. He had you right where he wanted you. You felt your face heat up in embarrassment, your eyes falling shut as you pulled your lip between your teeth.

"O-okay, do whatever you want just... don't take too long, I really am exhausted, Toru." You gave in, gripping the silk sheets between your fingers by your side as you spoke. Gojo's grin grew twice the size, a satisfied humm left his lips before he leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss directly on your clit, making your body jolt in surprise. "You know I never do," Gojo replied cockily. 

Satoru's lips latched around your clit not even a second later, his eagerness clearly showing. His eyes rolled back in his head as he tasted your juices on his tongue as he licked up your folds before focusing on your clit, his tongue batting against it and sending delicious pleasure down your spine. Your stomach clenched and your back arched when he moaned against you, the vibrations stimulating your clit just right.

"Oh- oh fuck-" You moaned, a little too loud for Gojo's liking. "Shhhh... we aren't alone anymore. I know it feels good but you gotta keep it down. Don't wanna wake the kiddo." Gojo cooed, his voice coming out slurred from how pussydrunk he already was. Normally, he wouldn't give a fuck how loud you were being, and would instead encourage you to be louder, but he knew rationally that if the baby woke up right now, you would bite his head off. 

You were trusting Satoru and leaving everything to him in such a vulnerable, sleepy state, and Gojo was going to prove to you he could hold that responsibility. So although the only thing he wanted was to get lost in your cunt while he made you scream and shake on his tongue, he had to keep some part of his brain functioning rationally so you could relax and be at ease while he took care of everything. 

"Here," Gojo added, reaching by his side to grab your nightshorts. He placed them on your midsection, flicking them towards you with his fingers. "Bite this for me, you can be as loud as you want if you're gagged," he explained, watching as your glassy, unfocused eyes looked down at the cloth before you used a weak hand to grab it and stuff it in your mouth. 

"Good girl mama, now just feel good for me." You placed both of your hands over your mouth, gripping onto the fabric to support yourself and also keep yourself quiet. When Gojo's tongue went to work on you once more, your head started spinning. You felt so out of it, each lick and kiss he placed on your cunt only relaxed your further, making you sleepier and sleepier.

Gojo, on the other hand, was feeling quite the opposite. He had abandoned one of his hands on your legs around his shoulders and had slipped it in his boxers, jerking himself off as he ate you out. He matched his strokes with his tongue as he licked you inside and out, making sure his tongue touched every inch of you. his pretty flushed cockhead poked out from the band of his boxers and was leaking precum all over his fingers as he needily jerked himself off.

Gojo moaned when he opened his mouth against you to stick his tongue inside you, and your walls immediately clenched around it. "Fuck- I missed this so much," Gojo whined between thrusts of his tongue. "You taste so good, mmm-" His eyes rolled back in his head, "-could do this forever." You were too out of it to notice the squelching of Gojo's hand furiously stroking over his cock while he tonguefucked you.

You thought the shaking bed was from your body, when in fact it was from Gojo's hand. He was trembling against you, feeling so overwhelmed as he took in your taste and scent after being without it for so long. You were unable to respond from the cloth shoved so deep in your mouth, that all you could do was reach one of your hands into his hair and grip it harshly, letting you know you heard his words and reciprocated them.

Your head thrashed side to side against the sheets as his soft, careful sucks turned needy and sloppy. His tongue spelled his name quickly agaisnt your clit before his lips wrapped around it and he suckled, hard, making your back arch dramatically off the bed from the intense stimulation. Gojo laughed against your folds, totally pussydrunk as his mouth moved against you.

His teeth grazed your folds as he opened and closed his mouth against you, his tongue spreading messily against your cunt as he tried to suck in as much as he could of you into his mouth. He had to grip his cock harshly at the base to prevent himself from cumming too soon. He could tell you were close, he just needed to hold out a little longer.

"Fuck... wanna hear you tell me how good it feels." Gojo blabbed, his hand stuttering over his cock as he started losing his pace, his voice vibrating against you as he spoke, making your body jerk and jolt against him, your cunt humping into his mouth simultaneously. "W-wanna hear you cry my name when you cum for me-" he continued, his own words working himself up as he ate you out with more vigor.

Your legs clamped shut around his head as you were worked up to the edge by Gojo's expert tongue licking over your folds. You wanted to respond, you really did, but the both of you knew if you took out your gag, you would wake the baby. "Your so wet- f-fuck so fucking wet, you gonna cum?" Gojo wined, jerking himself off faster when he picked up on all the telltale signs of your orgasm. 

You nodded, your whines increasing in volume, still significantly muffled by the gag. "Oh god- me too- cum on my face- n-need you to-" You cut his pussy drunk rambling off by using the last of the strength you had to shove his head into your pussy, forcing him to shut up and eat you out. Gojo's eyes fluttered back in his head at your show of dominance as you took what you needed, humping your hips against his mouth as you used his tongue to get you off.

Gojo's nails dug into your thigh when his orgasm hit him with yours. His eyes rolled back repeatedly in his head and his abs clenched as he came all over his fist and the edge of the bed. Hot ropes of white cum sticking to his skin and the silk sheets as he released his thick load, wishing he was cumming inside you instead. You rode your high out with him, your body shaking and trembling with the force as you jerked forward with every wave of your orgasm that washed over you.

You gasped and whined muffled slurs of Satoru's name against the silk as you came, hard. Gojo kept sloppily working his tongue on your clit right up until your legs loosened from around his neck, allowing him to breathe. You both jerked every so often as the aftershocks wracked your body. Satoru's hands caressed the skin of your thighs soothingly as he helped you come down.

Your breathing slowly started to even out as you relaxed more and more, letting your husband's warm hands lull you closer and closer to dreamland. You could barely register the praise he was cooing at you as your body relaxed agaisnt him. 

"Good girl did so good for me."

"Made such a mess on my face."

"I love you so much, thank you" 

His words all muddled into one as your eyes finally fluttered shut as you fell unconscious. Gojo rose from his place between your legs, confused as to why you were being so quiet. When his eyes settled on your familiar sleeping face, he smiled softly, shaking his head as he tucked his cock back in his pants and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. 

He giggled as he realized the cloth was still in your mouth. Leaning forward while smirking, he easily pulled out the garment from between your lips and replaced it with his own as he pressed a soft kiss to your lips, slightly cracked open from pulling the gag out.

He leaned back from the kiss and slid his hands down your unconscious body, watching how steady your breath was, and how relaxed you looked. He slid his hands under your arms and held your limp body against his chest as he situated the two of you under the covers, placing your body on top of his as he wrapped his arms against you, snuggling you as you slept so peacefully. "Glad I licked your pussy now, huh?" Gojo laughed, "You're gonna sleep like a baby tonight~" 

He hoped you didn't mind the stickiness between your thighs from your cum when you woke up in the morning. He was only planning on holding you for a couple of minutes, just wanting to relish the feeling of your body against his before he cleaned you up. But unbeknownst to him, he was a lot more tired than he initially thought, leading him to join you in dreamland within those five minutes.

[trumanbluee]

you're the one that i want - deadpool / wade wilson

minors dni !! this is 17+ nsfw material !!!

please reblog if you like it! ᡣ𐭩

based on this request! <3

content: three words, baby! the honda odyssey!

word count: 2.5k

warnings: established relationship, no mention of condom (wrap it b4 u tap it!), petnames galore, deadpool is a warning in of himself lol.

a/n: the deadpool brainrot has been so strong recently so thank u guys so much for all ur requests! my return to my deadpool era couldn't have come at a worse time with my exams happening rn but i will try and write as much as i can! love you!

You'd been sitting in the backseat of the "fuck-ass Honda Odyssey", as Wade had described it, arm resting on the centre console, your head propped up on your palm lamely as you turn it left to right, half-listening to Wade and Logan argue like you're at a tennis match.

You'd almost flown forward into the front of the car when it came to an abrupt stop, tyres screeching as you let out a soft yelp in surprise. Wade hears you, and wordlessly pushes you back softly. You'd heard something spat out from Logan, along the lines of "You'll never save the fucking world!", followed by Wade's voice saying, "I'm gonna fight you now." and then the sound of a sickening crunch as he punches Logan in the nose.

It's milliseconds before you see your boyfriend's arm reach back and open your door, gently ushering you out with a soft, "Why don't you go for a walk, pretty girl?"

You know better than to argue, especially with Logan seething in the front seat, so you hop out of the car, shutting the door behind you as you trudge off into the trees, half grateful for being kicked out of the car so you didn't have to listen to Logan's grumbles when you inevitably had to ask him to pull over so you could pee.

You could hear the yelling and grunting in the distance, shaking your head as you hear the faint shatter of glass, followed by a - less than masculine - squeal from your boyfriend. You laughed to yourself, not worried in the slightest as you hear the fighting between the two, Logan's growls echoing through the trees as he squelches his claws into your boyfriend's stomach.

You'd told Wade to give Logan a break, and that eventually he would find out about his 'educated wish', but he hadn't listened, instead continuing to push and push and push Logan until, expectedly, he reached his breaking point.

You wandered around amongst the trees for a while, before slumping against a tree not too far from the car, your eyes growing heavy as you listened to the soft rustle of the leaves above you.

You wake up groggily, looking around the room as you rub sleep from your eyes. You startle when a red suit appears in front of you, but it's not the Deadpool suit that you're all too familiar with.

"I'm Elektra, that's Gambit," the woman points to a man in a helmet, who's stood in the corner, playing with cards, "and that's Blade," she points over her shoulder with her thumb to the man in a long, leather trench-coat.

"I.. uhm.. Hi?" you say, taken aback by this sudden bombardment of strangers.

"We're helping you and your friends get out of the void." Elektra explains, offering her hand to help you stand up. You take it gratefully.

"...Oh, cool..." you say, still groggy from being asleep for so long. "..are.. are they around?"

Elektra nods, pointing outside with her head, "Yellow's by the fire, Red's... around here somewhere."

You nod, thanking her and smiling awkwardly at Blade and Gambit as you walk outside, the smoke from the fire consuming your nostrils as you step out. You spot Logan by the fire, but see that he's sitting with someone.

'She looks an awful lot like that X-23 girl we saw at the TVA.' you think, not ruling out the possibility that it is her with the level of weirdness that had already occurred during your short time in the void. You tread on, looking around before you spot the Honda Odyssey. You shake your head, rolling your eyes as you walk to the drivers door of the car, opening it to reveal your boyfriend in the back-seat, pulling his katana's out of the passenger's seat next to you as you plop into the driver's seat.

He looks up when he hears the car door open, and the white eyes of his mask visible soften as he sees you.

"Hey baby," he coos, scooching forward in the back-seat to press a soft kiss to your cheek through his mask as you sit in the driver's seat, peeking over the headrest to look back at him, "was wonderin' when you were gonna wake up, sleepy head."

You smile softly, before taking a moment to look around at the damage done to the car. Your eyes go wide and your hand flies to your mouth, the other reaching back to swat at Wade's shoulder.

"Wade! What the fuck did you two get up to in here? Jesus Christ!"

You hear a whisper of 'Baby Knife!' followed by a soft grunt as Wade pockets another one of his knives.

"Just some good ol' fashioned fightin', baby! I'm kinda sad you missed it, that shit got good!"

You tut, leaning around the driver's seat to look at him as he's hunched over, digging for another one of his knives beneath the seat.

You hear him mumble something along the lines of 'Hate this fuckin' car' before he shoots up, and you can sense his smile through the mask. He leans back in the seats that are in the very back of the car, right leg thrown over one seat, with his other leg spread, suit-clad knee pressing into the fabric of the other. His eyes sharpen as he looks at you, before groaning softly, throwing his head back in a circle, and sighing.

"Fuck, princess, that fightin's gotten me all worked up," he groans, chin pressed to the top of his chest as he looks at you, eyes narrowed.

You feel your thighs rub together at the way he looks at you, the manspreading the cherry on top of a very, very, delicious looking dessert. He chuckles, gesturing to your thighs with his head.

"Saw that, baby." He laughs to himself before he lifts his hand, beckoning you to him with two fingers, his other hand resting on the headrest of the seat in front of him, twiddling Baby Knife between his fingers.

You squirm in your seat before not so agilely climbing over the centre console, crawling over the seat and onto Wade’s lap. He pockets Baby Knife, bringing a hand up to pull the bottom of his mask up, the other settling on your ass as you straddle his waist. 

“Hey doll-face,” he murmurs, smiling and giving your ass a playful squeeze, pulling his mask fully off before placing his hand on the nape of your neck, pulling you into a kiss. 

You moan against his lips as you kiss back, his gloved hand giving your ass a firmer squeeze. Wade uses this opportunity to deepen the kiss, slipping his tongue past your lips as you gasp into his mouth. Your hips grind down subconsciously and he pulls away from the kiss, both of your chests rising quickly as you both try and regain your breath from the heated kiss. 

Wade smirks up at you, moving both of his hands to your hips, squeezing softly, pulling a giggle from your lips before he’s engulfing them in another breathless kiss. He moves your hips with his hands, grinding you down on his boner as it tents in his suit, causing him to buck up absentmindedly as he groans into your mouth. Your breathy whimpers vibrate against his lips, and he pulls away, leaning his head back against the headrest behind him. 

“…Fuck, doll-face,” he groans, looking up at you, “ look what you're fuckin’ do to me, baby.” 

He nods down to his dick, almost bursting out of his suit, and your mouth nearly drops open. Wade thinks to himself that if you were in an animé, you’d have heart emojis bulging from your eyes. 

He takes his hands off your hips, crossing his arms behind his head in faux-laziness as he watches you undo the buckle of his belt, slapping the sides of his legs softly, signalling for him to lift his hips. 

“Watch it, doll-face.” Wade warns, half-joking, “Ask me nicely, please.” 

You groan, giving him your ‘are-you-fucking-serious-right-now’ glare as you tug at his belt. He’d been on the receiving end of this look many times in the past, so he’s unfazed as he chuckles dryly, planting his hips down.

 “I can wait, Princess.” 

You roll your eyes, huffing. “Please, Wade,” you glare at him, “Will you please lift your hips up so I can get your dick out?” 

You add a pout and a flutter of your lashes at the end, and his resolve noticeably crumbles. He huffs, lifting his hips up off the car seat just enough for you to pull down his pants slightly. You dip your hand into his underwear, giving his dick a soft tug before freeing it from the tight pants of his Deadpool suit. 

You gather some spit in your mouth, looking at your boyfriend through your lashes before spitting onto the tip of his cock, using your hand to spread it along his length, squeezing softly around the base. Wade groans from below you, his hips bucking into your hand.

“Fuck, hotstuff, ya’ killin’ me here.” 

Wade hisses as you squeeze a bit harder around his dick, the pretty ring he’d proposed to you with cold against his skin. 

He almost whines, stopping himself by biting his lip, “Oh, c’mon baby, what’d I do to deserve this teasin’, huh? I fought so valiantly against ol’ Wolvie, didn’t I, princess? Don’t I deserve to be treated nicely?” 

Something about the whiny-ness of his tone sends a pang to your heart, and pussy, and you grind down against his thigh absentmindedly before putting both your hands on his shoulders. 

“Help me out, would ya’, Wadey?” you ask sweetly, shimmying your hips slightly to gain his attention. 

His hands fly to your tights, tugging them down your thighs, lifting your legs softly, one by one, and peeling your pants off, leaving you hovering above him in your prettiest pair of panties. You’d been wearing them as a birthday surprise for him, but you’d both been snagged by the TVA before you could put them to good use… until now. 

Wade’s breath hitches from beneath you as his eyes land on your panties, his lower lip bitten between his teeth as his chest heaves. 

“Fuck, doll-face, what’re you all dressed up for?” he says, tracing a gloved hand over the lacy hem of your white panties, pressing a soft kiss to the little blue bow in the middle, before blowing a puff of cool air onto the damp spot beneath it. 

Your legs wobble softly and a shiver runs up your spine, leaving you grateful for your hands planted on your boyfriend's broad shoulders. 

You muster the breath to say, “They’re for you, baby… Well, they were for your birthday…”

He groans softly, pressing a soft kiss to your mound before pushing the thin fabric to the side, swiping a gloved finger through your slick. 

“Shit, baby.. Y’so wet f’me,” he says, voice breathless. “Fuck those stupid fucking day players, keeping my beautiful fiance, and her beautiful fucking panties from me on my birthday. What assholes, hey baby?” He says, pressing his thumb to your clit harshly as he blows another puff of air onto your slick pussy, causing your hips to buck into the air. 

You whine softly, bringing a hand to pump Wade’s cock once again, nodding mindlessly at his question that he knows you didn’t even hear. 

Wade chuckles, the sound rumbling from deep in his chest and shooting straight to your cunt, your thighs squeezing around his hand as he thumbs your clit lazily. 

You shuffle yourself forward on his lap, holding onto Wade’s strong shoulder with your hand, the other slowly pumping his cock as you lift yourself up, breathing hitching as you push yourself down onto the tip of Wade’s dick. 

His breath hitches beneath you, rubbing soothing circles on your hips through his gloves as you sink down onto him. His hands grip your hips tighter as he bottoms out, your eyes squeezed shut as you clamp down on his length. 

“Shit, baby, I could blow my load right now.” Wade gasps, head thrown back as his grip tightens on your hips, moving you up and down on his cock. You follow suit with his movements, digging your nails into the fabric of his suit as you leverage yourself on his shoulders, pushing yourself up and slamming yourself down on his cock, a moan slipping from your lips at every drag of his dick along your walls. 

Your hips stutter slightly, and Wade takes this as his cue, moving his hands from your hips to gain a strong grip on your ass, lifting you up and slamming his hips to meet yours. You whine softly, eyebrows knitting together and biting your lip as the soft squelch of your wetness reverberates around the car, your chest heaving with exertion, skin dewy with a thin sheen of sweat. 

You throw your head back, moaning wantonly, one hand coming off of Wade’s shoulder and pressing against the roof of the car. 

“...Shit…Wade!” you stammer as he moves one hand to your lower stomach, his thumb pressing harshly on your clit through his glove.

You slam your hips down to meet Wade's quicker, chasing your high as Wade slams his hips up to meet yours, his head thrown back against the head-rest behind him, eyes closed, as he groans softly.

"C'mon, doll-face," Wade grunts from beneath you, rubbing cruel circles on your clit as he bucks into you, "...y'gonna cum? Can feel you squeezing around me, princess."

You moan softly, babbling something like a 'uh-huh' as your eyebrows knit together, eyes shutting tight as you feel the coil building in your lower belly, threatening to snap any moment.

Wade feels you clamping around him, looking up and watching as you throw your head back, your grip on his shoulder tightening.

"That's it, baby," he groans from under you, pinching at your clit meanly causing you to whimper softly, your head coming forward, forehead resting against his as you grind down onto his cock.

"C'mon, hotstuff, give it to me..." he grunts, feeling his own orgasm coming as you clench down on him like a vice, a string of curse words sputtering from your lips as he feels you gush around him.

"...Shit, baby... Good girl," he coos, fucking you through your orgasm as he cums, soft grunts sounding in your ear as he bucks into you before stilling, stopping the movements of his thumb on your clit, as he lifts you up gently and pulls out. He pulls his hand away from your clit, but not before collecting a part of the mixture of yours and his cum on his gloved fingers, pushing it slowly back in to your drooling pussy. You whine, overstimulated, and he tuts, pushing your panties back into place and pulling your pants back up your legs, leaning back in the seat as you slump against his chest.

He smiles, giving your bum a soft pat and pressing a kiss to your hairline, leaning down to whisper in your ear, “I lied, doll-face, the Honda Odyssey fucks, hard.”

©trumanbluee - reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated! but i do not wish for my work to be republished, translated, or copied. thanks!

[suguann]

✎. you've been on the run for a while. you knew someone would come eventually—but not him.

tags. fem!reader, old west era, bounty hunter simon, size difference, size kink, implied the reader's husband is a terrible human, accidental voyeurism, period-typical sexism, masturbation [18+ only]

masterlist

You’ve been running for months, first from your husband (the phantom grip of his hand still sending an ache through your wrist) and now as a wanted conwoman for stealing the clothes from an unsuspecting cowpoke who thought he was getting lucky. You can only imagine what Mama would say about trading your ruffled skirts for grass-stained trousers and boiled-leather suspenders.

(It’s unbecoming of a respectable woman, dear. Uncouth.)

She’d probably have a lot to say if she knew everything you’ve done to survive.

You hop from one place to the next only by the mere chance someone was willing to let a helpless woman accompany them on their travels. Nearly a month has passed since being stranded in a dusty old mining town after a man and his wife dump you off and leave you behind. Washoe’s a little gritty and not welcoming unless there’s money to spend.

It’s not exactly safe, not unsafe, either, but nobody asks questions as long as you keep your head down and play the part of a mourning widow just passing through.

You know you’ve overextended your stay when you can’t leave your room during the day without worrying about a noose and the open end of a barrel meeting you outside. 

(That your husband or that gun-waving cowpoke finally found you.)

Sleep practically clings to you like a second skin, but you don’t dare close your eyes—you can’t.

This is how you end up sitting in the corner of the saloon, using the last of whatever you have in your change purse to order something strong, something your husband kept locked away, and anything else he thought women shouldn’t have a part in. 

You don’t even realize that your eyelids begin to feel heavy, steadily blurring out the flickering lantern on the wall while you wait for your drink. 

You catch yourself once or twice before your head can hit the table, rapidly blinking away the exhaustion before your eyes slide to the swinging doors.

You should stay awake. 

You need to stay awake just a little bit longer—

Your luck runs out that day. 

It’s one thing to know it’d happen eventually, and something else to realize that you make it easy for him—the man with an infamous name and a faded black bandana covering half his face—how he walked into the saloon and scooped you up (all unladylike sleepy dead weight) out of the weathered booth without a fight.

When you’d woken up to find yourself trussed up and thrown over the back of his horse, you cursed him out with every word you could think of that would make Mama clutch her skirts. Your captor ignored you, only talking to you whenever he warned you he was about to set up camp. 

“Did my husband send you?” Acknowledging him after all this time tasted like pennies on your tongue.

The man, Simon Riley, had leaned back against his bedroll and tipped the brim of his hat over his eyes. “Go the fuck to sleep.”

That was several weeks ago. 

Now, you find yourself stranded in another state that’s more green and vibrant than anything you’re familiar with, stuck with a man who refuses to answer the questions you throw at him. He doesn’t talk outside a few cursory words you greedily latch onto. Anything’s better than silence and the sound of hooves hitting earth. 

The pace he keeps you at is exhausting. You complain about it enough until he moves you in front of him, tying your hands to the saddle's horn.

“I would strongly advise you to shut that mouth for the rest of the ride unless you want me to do something about that, too.” The low growl of his voice in your ear makes the fine hairs on the back of your neck stand up, muddling your brain.

You’re distantly aware you had something to say to that, but you don’t. 

And that is really saying something.

It’s because there’s someone he needs to meet in town—an errand that lawbreakers who run their mouths aren’t allowed to go on.

This is how you end up sitting in camp alone, twirling around a knife he gave you solely for emergencies. 

(Surprise, sharp and quick through your middle, when he tosses his pocket knife into the grass beside you. “What’s to stop me from leaving?”

You could’ve sworn he rolled his eyes. “Will you?”

It doesn’t seem worth dignifying with a reply. You don’t want to travel alone, and there’s a high possibility of getting lost, finding yourself saddled up with worse company than the one you’re stuck with.

Until he evidently catches you again.)

He’s a lot nicer than you first gave him credit for—if only by a fraction—not that you know much about Simon other than what you overheard from gossip circles before you became Mrs. Thornton. Afternoons spent sipping tea laden with honey and lounging around a table full of cakes in the sun parlor while wealthy women talked behind their lace-covered hands to hide secret smiles you were too naive to understand. 

Trying not to stare at the bulge of his arms with thin pink scars—unlike the men you’re used to who got through life with a silver spoon hanging from their mouth—as he places his saddle back on his horse, you think you finally know what they smiled about.

You learn those scars also litter his torso from the time you accidentally walked upon him mid-way through putting his trousers on after washing in the river. It’d been too dark for you to see much else, and you quickly returned to camp before he could say something that would embarrass you both. 

Then, of course, tucked away into your bedroll, you can’t help wondering what the rest of him would have looked like if you had stayed a second longer. 

If his jaw is sharp or soft behind that mask he insists on wearing—that’s if he’d let you see at all. 

Simon’s always so serious that it’s often hard to determine whether he’s merely tolerating your existence until he can get rid of you or if he’s unused to traveling accompanied for so long. It’s not as if he goes out of his way to make pleasant conversation with you for you to assume otherwise.

You look off in the direction where he disappeared into the dense line of trees hours ago, wondering if you should go out looking for him (mainly because you’re hot and sticky from the humidity) despite his order to stay put. 

But after four hours turns into five, you head off, searching for something to help cool you off.

Luckily, unlike the heavily eroded lands you’re used to, there isn’t any water shortage in a place that sees rain three times a day, so it doesn’t take long to find a lake. You set your knife down on the stone-covered beach, followed by your boots, until you’re left in nothing but your undergarments. 

The water is icy cold and laps gently at your feet when you step in. You can’t find it in you to complain as the heat from the day slowly washes away the further you walk in and find a wide ledge to sit on. 

Your thoughts drift back to Simon, incessant and intruding even though you shouldn’t be thinking about him while wet and naked. And suddenly, you can picture it: his hands replacing yours as they trace along your neck. You have a feeling they’re probably rough and scarred from years of living hard and gunslinging, extracting the readily available knowledge that they’re big enough to encase your waist.

He could maneuver you around however he wants (you know this), and you feel dizzy just thinking about it.

Sighing, you sink deeper into the water while your hands smooth over the tips of your breasts and down your stomach. 

You wish you could see him without violating whatever personal preservations hide him from the rest of the world. Instead, you’re left with your imagination—the benefits of being a married woman and the little experience you have in the bedroom finally coming into play. 

Closing your eyes, you picture what he might look like under those sun-weathered leathers, knowing that the broadness of his shoulders isn’t only due to his vest and holsters but also from how his job has shaped him.

Your hands travel lower, fingers brushing through the creamy, soft wetness between your legs, evidence of what Simon does to you even when he’s not around. A moan, too high and breathy, slips past your lips as you use your middle finger to circle your clit in slow, clumsy swirls from lack of practice and patience that spreads warmth through your middle despite the cold water. 

It’s good, your fingers discovering places your husband always ignored—too many nights spent with your hand under your nightgown long after he’d tucked his cock away and gone to sleep—but probably don’t compare to the ones you’ve caught yourself staring at far too many times. 

They don’t fill you nearly enough, unlike how you know Simon’s would—thick and unrelenting. Rough and long, reaching deep enough to make you breathless.

Your breath hitches from pinching the tight, sensitive peak of your nipple until you feel a slight sting, and then it slips out, a tiny thing that’s only audible to your ears—Simon—a secret you now share with the lightning bugs and crickets.

“Dirty, no good rotten—” he’d tell you for thinking such lewd thoughts about him, for sinning so easily. Maybe you are, for getting so worked up over a man who isn’t your husband (no matter how terrible a husband he may be).

A man who’s so big that he makes you feel small, the type that gives before he takes. It’s enough to make you work your hand faster—your body vibrating from the chill of the water and the ache between your trembling thighs.  

Fantasies aren’t enough to sate the deep longing in your chest. Yet you’re slipping over the edge of ecstasy before taking your next breath—all of it builds up and gradually crests inside you like the lake rippling against the shore.

Afterward, it leaves you feeling soft and blurred around the edges, a watercolor painting drying under the sun while you wait for your rapid heartbeat to slow.

You don’t realize your eyes have fallen shut until they flutter open, and you’re startled to find Simon standing at the shoreline, his chest heaving as if he ran here. 

(Though he probably did to see if you took the opportunity to leave.)

You’re glued to your spot on the rock, suddenly struck with the mortifying realization that he’d seen you come—that he possibly heard you cry out his name so intimately.

You watch him remove his hat and hang it on a branch with wide eyes. Followed by his undershirt, guns, and—

He keeps removing clothes until he’s completely naked on the shore—aside from his face that stays hidden—scars marred his chest, spreading to his collarbones and below the water as he steps into the lake and sits on another ledge across from you.

His mask makes him look more menacing, erasing any trace of softness there. And you wonder if he’s angry at you for wandering off.

"Come here." His voice is low and deep, rumbling in his chest.

You don't think he'd hurt you. If he wanted to, he would have done it by now.

At least, that’s what you’re going with to settle the nervous fluttering in your middle.

Water laps at your arms as you wade through the water, each shaky step bringing you closer until you stop before him.

"In my lap."

Your breath sticks in your throat as you do as he says, settling down onto his sturdy thighs, palms falling flat against his broad chest. That same breath comes out in one large exhale as his fingers slide along your jaw, to the nape of your neck, curling into your hair, wet and falling around your shoulders.

“Like this?” you ask, trying to ignore how breathy you sound.

He grunts, apparently in confirmation.

You don’t think you’ve ever felt so conflicted in your life—fear and arousal turning into a messy cocktail in your veins.

“Why do I always have to use a heavy hand to make you listen?”

Your lips part. Breath growing short. “I’m sorry.”

And then—

Simon pulls your head back sharply, exposing your throat.

Your body goes slack against his. Mind blissfully blank.

“No,” he says, tone flat. “But you will be.”

[shomatoriashi]

10/05/24; 08:05pm

{ drabbles / headcanons }

[ when they’re feeling sick ]

featuring: sylus, zayne, xavier, rafayel

sylus would be the type to deny he was feeling sick, believing it would be best to save you from your concern while simply shouldering the burden all on his own.

and this morning was one of those moments. he wasn’t able to sleep too well, yet still manages to force himself to take a shower by dragging his feet into the master bathroom. after preparing the shower, he sheds his sleepwear and enters the glass stall. he remains still beneath the spray of water, trying to control his dizzy spells while ignoring how much hotter his skin felt.

despite how weak he felt, sylus manages to wash his hair and body, steadying himself against the slick shower walls as he lathered the shampoo all across his hair and the body wash over his form. being too stubborn to admit that he was even remotely sick, sylus manages to finish cleaning himself, washing off the soap suds before shutting off the shower faucet.

his breathing comes out as labored and uneven, yet still, sylus refused to back down, becoming filled with a determination to simply be with you and join you in the kitchen. it takes him several extra minutes to put on his clothes, the dizziness seeming to become worse the moment he haphazardly puts on his suit. with slow steps, sylus enters the kitchen as the scent of you cooking breakfast was enough to send his stomach reeling, making him stop dead in his tracks.

sylus fights back the urge to gag, hiding his mouth beneath his hand that were now balled up into tight fists. his stomach wouldn’t stop churning, and he felt a droplet of sweat run down his forehead while the blood seemed to drain from his face.

the onychinus leader was uncertain of how long he had been standing there, but his silence was enough to capture your attention. your greeting for him was on the tip of your tongue, but upon noticing on how his complexion had gotten so much paler, you shut off all of the stove burners and came closer to him.

“sylus, are you alright? you look awful.”

he manages to let out a weak chuckle. “that’s not a very nice thing to say, sweetie. you’re practically breaking my heart over he-“

but his words were cut off when another wave of nausea hits him, forcing you to act quickly. you place the palm of your hand against his forehead, letting out a gasp upon feeling how hot his skin was beneath your touch.

“okay mister, it’s back to bed for you.”

words of protests were close to being said from his parted lips, but the continuous nausea along with how hot his body felt was enough to render him silent. only managing a few gasps and grunts here and there, sylus allows you to lead him back to your shared bedroom, not even having the strength to protest when you gently take off his suit. once he was left in his boxers, you seem to flutter around him, gathering something more comfortable to him to wear.

by now, sylus was in a daze, allowing you to place one of his shirts on as he followed your commands, stepping into a cozy pair of grey sweatpants. as you lay him back in bed, you had every intention of letting him rest, wanting nothing more than to care for him during his time of need when sylus stops you from leaving him.

he grabs at your wrist, making you land against his chest. your attempts at moving away from him prove to be futile, as sylus simply tightens his arms around you.

“no… just… stay with me. i’ll feel better if i rest with you in my arms, sweetheart.”

his deep yet sleepy voice manages to win you over, causing you to let out a sigh before visibly relaxing against him. “fine… i’ll let you rest… but when you wake up, i will be the one taking care of you.”

by now, sylus had already shut his eyes, falling into a peaceful slumber now that you were in his arms. and for once in his life, he felt as though being sick with a fever wouldn’t be so bad since you were by his side.

from the countless sleepless nights zayne spent at the hospital, it came as no surprise to you when the stress of his job would come to a boiling point. his lack of sleep coupled along with the duties that came with being one of the top cardiac surgeons was quickly piling up.

at the end of his shift, zayne comes home, utterly exhausted as his eyes slowly began to lose its light. what felt like spider webs takes over his vision, marring it a great deal as he struggled to even drive back safely to his place. knowing that what he was feeling was the start of a migraine, zayne makes sure to drive at least 10 miles below the speed limit, narrowing his gaze in hopes of pushing aside the aura just so he could see the road.

thanks to his years of experience with driving (and a miracle, too), zayne was able to make it back to his home. he drags his feet across the driveway, wincing at the sun due to his eyes increased sensitivity to the light. his head was now pounding with such an intensity that he felt a bit nauseous in response.

as he nears the front door, he sees how you were already standing in front of the doorway with what looked like a loving smile (that damn aura was making it even more difficult to see you clearly now).

however, upon realizing the familiarity of you, zayne immediately crumples on the spot, landing within your open arms as he struggled to keep the pounding headache at bay.

“zayne?!”

he groans upon hearing your concerned cry of his name, “i’m sorry… not so loud since my head… it’s pounding…”

you let out a curse, pulling zayne closer to your body all while softly scolding him. as he steps into your shared home with your arms wrapped around his broad shoulder, the doctor couldn’t help but smile at each word you had thrown at him.

“it’s because you’ve been lacking sleep, right? i told you it wasn’t good for you to pull all nighters!”

“i understand that your patients need you, but you need to take care of yourself, too.”

“if you can’t love yourself more, then i will do it for you.”

zayne’s heart becomes considerably warmer upon hearing those last words, feeling it race beneath his chest. while leading him back to his room, you made sure to shut off all the lights and pull all the thick curtains, painting his home in complete darkness as it worked wonders on easing the painful ache felt against his skull.

with his bed in sight, zayne allows you to gently ease him into bed all while taking off his white coat and dress shoes. as you fold the coat over his chair while placing his shoes beneath it, you returned your attention back to your lover and worked on tucking him into bed, pressing a chaste kiss against his lips in the process.

with you distracted from his kiss, zayne manages to pull you into bed with him by simply gripping at your wrists. a gasp was heard coming from you, and you let out a series of protests when zayne traps you within his embrace.

his eyes were closed, and you felt the way he places his chin against the top of your hair. “zayne, i’m supposed to be taking care of you.”

“you are taking care of me.” zayne admits with a chuckle, “just… you being in my arms like this is already the perfect remedy for me.”

you begin to protest once more, but stop when zayne places a kiss against your forehead. “i’ll be alright. i just need some sleep… and having you in my arms helps a great deal.”

you let out a sigh in response, finally relaxing against him, “okay zayne, if you say so.”

zayne lets out a rich chuckle, adjusting his hold on you before telling you, “of course; i would never lie to you, honey.”

zayne knew that as long as he had you kept tightly within his embrace, then he would no longer feel any amount of pain, for you were his sole source of comfort.

when xavier could feel when his body is fighting an infection, or was just getting weak in general, he will spend his day simply buried beneath the covers of his bed. his appetite will be completely gone, simply choosing to sleep away whatever ailment has struck him.

being so caught up in his dreamless slumber, he remains almost deaf to the world, so caught up in his sleep that he didn’t realize nor hear the moment you entered his apartment using his spare key.

“xavier?” the young hunter was dimly aware of how your voice called out to him, yet he was too tired to respond. your gentle footsteps were heard padding into his room, yet he wasn’t bothered enough to open his eyes.

after all, xavier trusts you a great deal, and he knew that you wouldn’t hurt him.

he continues to go in and out of consciousness, becoming somewhat aware of how your hand was pressed against his cheek and the way your fingertips gently thread through his hair. after a few minutes spent basking in your soft touches, xavier suddenly realizes how your presence was no longer close to him the moment you move away.

xavier could feel the way he was frowning in his sleep, hands already reaching out to try and search for you. yet when he couldn’t feel your presence anymore was the moment xavier forces his eyes to open. the lights shining from his hallways leading to his kitchen was nearly blinding to him, but hearing your shuffling footsteps across his linoleum floors was enough to force him out of bed.

his footsteps were slow, with his strength slowly returning as he walks into the kitchen, seeing you humming a song while cooking what looked like some soup. you see him from periphery and smile at him, “hey babe, i know you weren’t feeling too well, so i decided to stop by and help take care of you.”

letting out a soft hum, xavier comes closer to you, wrapping his arms around you while resting his head against your shoulder. as you cooked, xavier places gentle kisses against your skin, simply clinging to you while basking in your soft giggles.

xavier wouldn’t freely admit this to you (due to how embarrassing it was) but with you here in his arms, he knew he was starting to feel better, quickly regaining his strength thanks to your presence alone.

oddly enough, rafayel seems to bask in those moments when he becomes sick with a fever, his body becoming slightly weaker when the tides begin to recede since he knows that you will be the one to spoil him when he’s feeling so unwell.

upon admitting to you on how weak he was feeling, rafayel basks in your undivided attention on him, granting every single one of his wishes while never once complaining of his clinginess.

for example, after you had cooked some soup for him, he managed to convince you to join him in bed all while begging you to spoon feed him your delicious soup. with the young artist leaning into your touch, he opens his mouth dutifully each time you fed him.

and when he had finished eating his meal, rafayel watched you with eager eyes when you set the emptied bowl to the side before tackling you against his bed. basking in your giggles, rafayel softly joins you in your laughter, hiding his face within the curve of your neck.

with you settled comfortably in his arms, the lemurian now works on wrapping his legs around you, purposely trapping your body against him. “ahhh… much better.” your playful lover admits to you with a tiny grin, still keeping his face hidden within your neck.

you let out a hum of his name, gently delving your fingers into his soft strands of hair. with your eyes closed, you continue to thread your fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp in the process while basking in his soft moans. feeling the way his eyelashes flutter against your skin, you knew that rafayel was close to falling asleep on you, making you continue to massage at his scalp in hopes of getting him to rest once more.

upon feeling the way his body gently slumps against you along with his soft breathing felt on your skin, you let out a happy sigh, wrapping both arms around him as you held him in your embrace. your eyes catch a glimpse of his beautiful, sleeping face, the sight of it all making you smile as you pressed a lingering kiss against his forehead.

“rest well, my love. i promise i’ll be here with you.”

and when you saw the way rafayel smiles in his sleep, you swore that you felt your heart turning warm with complete and utter joy.

end notes: because the lads men deserve to be spoiled with love and care, too 🥹 ♡

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!