#and then the rain started up again *sigh*
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You write vulnerable Vi so well… (i’m thinking for example your first work about popstar!reader x vi) and I just saw some edits on tik tok and omg I have to beg you to write vulnerable Vi x reader. Like how she was during the scene in Arcane where she asked Caitlyn to promise her to not change. Looking at her lips, then eyes, then lips again 😭 Or how she leaned into her touch 😭 Or dropped her gunlets and hugged her 😭 We always see Vi comforting reader, can we see some Vi being comforted?
even the rain
violet; sfw, fluff/angst, hurt/comfort, no anon ur so rite vi deserves to be comforted lsdkfjosdi
there is no greater weakness than that of a warrior's heart -- blown glass and false starts. something war-torn and shrapnel-wrought, made of all the broken bits of want that, after a while in the slant-wise light, will start to look like love, no matter what they were to begin with.
it is not the first time you find her with her head tucked between her own knees, her hands laced over the back of her neck, tight as corset-strings, her pulse whale-bone brittle.
"vi?"
she jerks, head snapping up; her eyes are pale -- the parched blue of a sky before a rainstorm, all thunder and not enough light. the smile that breaks over her lips is the coarse imitation of what a real smile might be, a pantomimed thing, thin as ghost and just as haunting.
"oh... hey."
she drops her head back down with a sigh. you patter to her side, slipping in next to her on the wide bay window, glancing out towards far horizon, the clouds hanging low and bloated, thunderheads crackling with a distant rage, their edges ribbed in lightening.
"bad day?" you ask, gently hooking your chin over her shoulder, looping an arm around her waist. she barely moves, only shifts to lean into your touch, and for a second neither of you speak. the quiet gathers between you, swirling and thick, till vi lets out a long breath and turns, leaning to press her face into the crook of your neck.
"something like that," she murmurs, her words losing themselves to the exhale. she pulls you in, close and then closer, her arms wrapping around you so tight your lungs almost stutter. but you let yourself be held, and you hold her back as steadily as you can.
there are nights like these when she's quiet, the kind of quiet that used to set your teeth on edge. but you've gotten more used to them now -- and you've learned to understand the various kinds of quiet that come branded into violet's bones.
this one unspools like the oncoming dark, warm and liquid. you let it settle; you press a soft kiss into her hairline and feel her tremble.
"if you wanna talk about it..." you offer, letting the words trail off into the encroaching night.
vi gives her head a tiny shake, her face still buried in your neck, your body settled snug in her arms.
"okay," you say, reaching up to card your fingers through her hair, gently working out the tangles at the end. over and over again, you sink your fingers into her hair, and over and over again you pull them through. occasionally, you let your nails trail against her scalp, till eventually, you feel the lines of her shoulders relax, the tension seep from her arms as her hold on you loosens ever so slightly.
the first drops of rain patter against the slate-gray windowpane, and it's a long while before vi picks up her head with a tired little smile.
"it's just -- it's a stupid thought --" she says, already shaking her head. you crinkle your nose, a frown digging between your brows as you reach up to flick at her forehead.
"quit that," you say.
vi rolls her eyes, swatting at your hand, catching it in one of hers and bringing your palm to her lips to drop a kiss to the pad beneath your thumb. you smile, cupping her cheek, letting her lean into the solidness of your touch.
"i know, i know," she says with another world-weary sigh, but her eyes flicker back to the rain-slicked window and the misty world beyond. the sky is riddle with clouds and roiling with thunder. "sometimes it just seems... endless."
"what? the horrors?" you ask, allowing yourself a tiny grin.
vi laughs, the sound both ragged and honest. she turns lightening-struck eyes back onto you as she says --
"yeah, or just... the injustices. and... it feels like no matter what we do --"
"there'll always be more... bad things?" you finish.
vi nods, looking down at her hands. you reach for them, curling your fingers through hers. wordlessly, you tug her behind you towards the fireplace, where you settle her on the thick carpet with you across from her. slowly, methodically, you begin to unwrap her bandaged arms, running your thumb over the tensed muscles there, soothing over each knot you come across.
vi lets you, the only sounds leaving her the tiny little gasps when you hit a particularly tender spot, or the long, breathy exhales when you manage to sooth over some previously unknown hurt.
when all the bandages have been removed and you're finally satisfied with the status of her forearms, you push up to grab a basin of hot water, balancing it precariously on your hip as you set it back down on the carpet between you and motion for vi to soak her arms.
she does, letting out a soft groan as the hot water shushes over her skin, the heat sinking into her weary muscles.
"there's always gonna be bad things and bad people," you say, soaking a small towel in the hot water and running it up the length of her arms, gently scrubbing the sweat and dirt from her skin. you don't look up at her, but you can feel the weight of her eyes as surely as you can feel the heat of the water dissipating each time you dip the cloth back in.
"but... there will also always be people who fight those bad things," you continue, wringing out the towel and finally lifting your head to smile at her. you reach up with the corner of the towel to wipe at a spot on her cheek; she lets you, leaning forward, holding still.
"it's just how the world works, i'm afraid," you finish finally, shrugging as you lean back to assess your handiwork. vi lifts both her eyebrows, but there are firelights dancing in the bright of her eyes again, and neither of you have mentioned the rain.
"sounds terrible -- think i'd like a refund," vi says, chuckling.
thunder cracks outside the window; lightening pierces the sky, momentarily flooding the room in a sharp, flash-bang of light. it washes out the color of almost everything -- everything except the startling blue of violet's eyes.
and like this, she looks storm-touched, a natural disaster in the shape of a girl. a force of nature, caught in skin and bone, muscles and teeth.
"bit too late for that, i think." but you're grinning, and so is she. and it is so much more than the ghost of a smile now, so full and vivid, so defiantly alive.
you tip forward to kiss her; she leans forward to let you. your lips meet in the dancing shadows of the fire-lit room, and it's another few minutes before either of you speak again.
this time, vi breaks the swirling silence first.
"thanks."
"for what?"
vi watches her own reflection in the basin of now lukewarm water. she reaches down a finger and flicks at the surface, watching the image distort, the ripples pulsing out from the place she'd touched, further and further and further.
"for... always knowing what to say to make me feel better."
you let out a tiny laugh, inching around the basin to curl against her side. vi presses her cheek into the top of your head. between your bodies, your hands find each other and link, palm to palm.
"isn't that what girlfriends are for?"
vi nods, grinning to herself as she turns to pull you into her chest, dropping her head into your shoulder once more.
"yeah. guess so."
another streak of lightening eats across the darkened sky. outside, the rain sluices across the thick windowpanes, casting strange, ghostly shadows with each flash of light.
"c'mon," you say, tugging on her hand once more.
vi allows herself to be pulled up and towards the bedroom, casting one final look at the room behind her. the fire is banked, the embers simmering beneath the twilight gloom. but the living room is warm, and the sound of rain growing ever-soothing as the storm blows itself out.
she gives your hand in hers a squeeze, content to follow you down the narrow hallway that leads to your shared bedroom. content to be tugged into bed, where she curls in next to you, lets you wrap the both of you in the soft linen sheets. lets you kiss her till every breath in her lungs start to taste like good dreams.
"gnight, violet," you whisper, reaching out to brush away an errant strand of dark pink hair from her cheek.
she catches your hand and presses it to her face, murmuring against it --
"gnight, sweet girl... i... i love you."
you smile, leaning forward till your noses brush.
"i know, violet. i love you just as much... if not a little bit more."
vi lets out a noncommittal noise but she doesn't open her eyes.
"doubt it."
you giggle, "go to sleep."
"you too."
you nod, letting your eyes flutter shut.
"yeah. i will."
#⛈ monsoon season#vi x reader#arcane x reader#wow... idk where half of this came from but WELP I MEAN its not news that i cannot shut up about vi so#arcane fluff#vi fluff#arcane angst#vi angst#vi x you#arcane x you#violet x reader#violet x you#violet arcane#vi arcane#vi imagines#vi scenarios#league of legends x reader#arcane
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Tags: smut, fingering, unprotected piv, kinda mean Joost.
Explicit RPF below, don't interact if you are not comfortable with that; +18
You walk down a busy street, the path is familiar to you – it leads to the Internet Cafe, where you go to do your personal admin tasks and unwind playing games after a stressful day at work. It is already dark outside, but the sound of rain splattering onto your umbrella and lights of the nearby shops shining from the windows as you walk past are keeping you company.
As you reach your destination, you notice a printed note on the door "Today we are closing for maintenance at 10pm. Come back tomorrow for usual working hours." You sigh, as you usually prefer to stay for longer, the whole point of it being open 24/7.
Familiar clacking of the keyboard, murmur of conversations and laughter of groups of people engaged in a computer game greets you as you walk in. You put away your umbrella and head to the administrator's desk. Your heart starts pounding faster, as it does every time you see him. Joost, who works at the cafe, is sitting at his desk, a usual scowl on his face and a cigarette hanging from his lips, even though there is a No smoking sign. He is the sole reason this place is running as smoothly as it does, he keeps every customer at check. From the first time you came here, you could tell everyone is scared of him due to his mean attitude, but it thrills you – the smudged eyeliner look he has, his style, how he towers over everyone, it all excites you. You haven't talked to him much, he keeps it pretty short with everyone, an uninterested look on his face, so getting a few words from him always seems like a win.
You unbutton your jacket and fix your skirt, which you wore just for him – today it is even shorter than usual. He doesn't talk much, but you can feel his eyes on you, when you wear those skirts. How he rolls his eyes, when you bat your eyes at him asking for help on the computer, even though you know how to fix it yourself, he is annoyed, but never denies your ask for help. It excites you knowing you have some effect on him.
"Hi, 2 hours please." you say as you reach his desk, sliding the exact amount of cash for 2 hours on the computer and internet.
"We close at 10 today." he doesn't look up, takes your money.
"I saw the note." you say and before he can point at what computer is free, you chime in. "I was thinking...do you need any help?"
He stops typing, stares at the screen and then looks up at you. You smile cheerily, "I can help with the maintenance, whatever that is, or I can vacuum. It will be faster together." yet his facial expression doesn't change from the usual bored scowl.
"We are fine." he says and turns back to the computer.
"5th computer is yours for 2 hours" he points at the direction of the desk.
You turn around to walk towards it, not entirely surprised by his answer, but it was worth a try. You say hi to other usual customers you've become friends with. As you take a seat, you look behind your shoulder, catching Joost staring at the exposed skin provided by your short skirt. You can't help but clench your thighs together, hoping he notices how a simple glance from him arouses you, wishing it was him touching you directly.
2 hours go by fast. You throw your head back laughing at something a guy next to you said. He is funny, and has been a good company, you put your hand on his thigh, not meaning anything by it, other than trying to catch yourself as you laugh again leaning forward. On accident your eyes meet Joost, who is watching your hand on the guy's thigh – his scowl angrier than usual, the cigarette letting out smoke as it hangs from his lips.
"It's 10pm. Everyone – out." Joost stands up to announce and walks towards the desks with a trash bag to collect any junk left by the customers.
You start to pack your things, when you feel a hand on your upper arm. It's a guy you met earlier, "I was thinking, maybe you want to grab a drink with me? There is a good bar nearby. If you are not busy."
You are about to reply, when you hear a familiar deep voice coming from behind you. "She is helping here today."
You turn to face Joost. "I thought you said-"
"Yeah. Change of plans. Are you staying or no?"
You look at the guy, who is still waiting for your answer. "Sorry, I can't today."
The last customer leaves – it's just you and Joost now. You stand awkwardly, not really having expected your evening to turn out this way.
"Grab the trash bag, throw out anything that's not supposed to be on the desks. And wipe them down later, cleaning wipes are next to the printer. I will vacuum. The guys should come soon to update the computers." you just stare at him, this must be the most you've heard him talk.
"What?" he asks with raised eyebrows after you don't reply.
"Nothing." you giggle and grab the trash bag. This should be fun.
It is not a big space, so you keep bumping into each other, as he vacuums under the desks, you mutter little sorries, but he keeps at task, seemingly in his own world. His presence in the same room feels electric, now that everyone else is gone, you want his attention more than ever. You bend down and reach forward on the desk as if to pick up the trash at the back of it, your skirt bunching up higher revealing even more skin. You know he notices it, you don't even have to look back to feel his eyes on you. Even a little brush of his arm next to you makes your breath hitch, you wonder if he can tell. Was it jealousy that made him change his mind and let you stay? You want to talk to him, but the constant noise of the vacuum cleaner makes it impossible.
The next time, you intentionally pick a desk to clean right where he is vacuuming. You lean against it and your ass brushes against his hip. He doesn't move away, you wiggle your hips slightly. The noise suddenly stops.
"What are you doing?" he asks. Only the buzz of computers running and your both heavy breathing can be heard in the room. You haven't noticed how worked up he has gotten you just by being close, but seeing how his own chest is rising and falling you can guess it had the same effect on him.
"What do you mean?" you are still in the same position, and he also hasn't moved. He looks down at where your ass meets his hip. The cool metal clasp of his pants feels nice on your skin. You play coy and it thrills you what he will do about it. "I am cleaning the desks as you told me to, am I not?"
He groans and the sound of it makes you grin.
"Well, I think you missed a spot." his voice is lower than usual.
"Huh? Where?"
"Right there." he points at the suspicious stain at the back of the desk. You lean in to reach it, when you feel him move behind you. A pair of warm hands holding your waist, it makes you stop in your tracks, suddenly hot all over.
"Why did you stop? Should I help you?" his crotch is pressed behind you.
"I don't think I see it. I do need some help."
His palm slides from your waist up to your shoulder, down your arm, as he reaches your hand, holding it gently, his chest now pressed against your back. Your heart is threatening to jump out of your throat. The weight of his body on you, the smell of his cologne and cigarettes he smokes makes your head spin. You can't help but arch your back, a quiet moan slipping past your lips.
You hear him huff next to your ear. "Such a pretty girl. Coming here flaunting in your tiny skirts." he speaks quietly and a chill runs down your spine.
"Always the loudest laugh in the room." he continues and moves your hand to wipe down the stain, holding it firmly in his own. "But I can't even bring myself to say anything, because I love the sound of it." he admits. "Don't think I don't notice you."
"Oh, I know you notice." you try to calm your breathing, but fail miserably, it comes out more as a pathetic whimper. He chuckles at how fast he has gotten you wrapped around his finger.
"So you wear it just for me?" he continues moving your hand, his lips ghosting over your neck. "Not these other guys?"
"Only you. I don't need anyone else." you try to turn your head to look at him, but he straightens up and holds the back of your neck.
"Fuck." he groans, you can feel he is getting hard, the rough material of his jeans still pressed against you. You want him to know how wet he got you. "What should I do with you?"
His hand starts trailing from waist down to your thigh, when you hear the door open. He quickly takes a step back from you, turning away. You also stand up from the desk, fixing your hair.
"Hi. We are here for the computer updates?" one of the men says.
Joost goes up to greet them and show around. "Continue cleaning." he calls out to you, when walking past.
After awhile you start to get bored, now that you are not alone, Joost has gone back to ignoring you. The lack of his hands on you makes you feel so lonely, you can still remember the weight and warmth of him pressing you onto the desk, and it is still not enough. He is sitting at his desk, lighting up another cigarette, you watch him flick a lighter, taking a few deep drags filling his lungs with smoke.
You walk towards him. "Is there anything else I can help with?"
He looks around the room, "Honestly.. no. You can go home, you know." there is a hint in his voice that shows he feels bad for keeping you here waiting around for whatever reason. You must have better ways of spending the night rather than this dirty old place.
"I can stay." you reassure him. "I want to help you finish your shift." you trace a nail down his bicep. He looks at your hand, then back up at your face. After his confession of loving the sound of your laugh and calling you a pretty girl you became bolder. His eyes shift to the men still working on the computers, "How long will this take?" he calls out to them.
They shrug, looking at each other. "Like another.. hour or so." one of them replies. Your head drops in defeat, why is it taking so long.
"Sure you don't want to go home?" Joost asks you again.
"I'm sure."
"To help me finish the shift you said?" he laughs. And it makes you stop in your tracks. This is the first time you heard him laugh, what a beautiful sound. You need more of it.
"You are doing it again." he says, his attention back to the computer.
"Doing what?"
"Staring at me silently."
"I am fascinated by you." you want to smooth down the messy strands of hair sticking out in the back of his head. But restrict yourself not to push your luck too much.
"You are so weird." he says putting out his cigarette in an ashtray. "If you need something to do, here take the pencils, sharpen them." You sigh and take the pencils and the sharpener.
You are sitting at the opposite side of where the two men are busy working on computers, their chatter can be heard in the room. You have the perfect vision of Joost, from where you sit facing him, conveniently hidden from anyone else's eyes. He keeps checking on you, humming a melody while sharpening the pencils, as if it is the most interesting task in the world. He seems to have gotten back to his previous uninterested demeanour or just tries to act this way around others. You wave your fingers at him and shoot a smile. He shakes his head at you and is about to turn back to the computer, when you uncross your legs, slowly pushing them apart just for his viewing pleasure, you trace a pencil from your upper thigh closer to your skirt, raising it higher and higher, revealing the side of your panties. You look into his eyes, the bright blue irises almost invisible at this point, how aroused he is.
"We are done." the man stands up and starts to pack up their bags. Joost all but jumps out of his seat. "Thank you guys." and starts to walk them out of the door.
The door closes, the silence surrounding you both again. The anticipation is killing you, you tentatively stand up and head in his direction.
"I sharpened the pencils." you say showing him the sharp ends.
"Good." he takes the pencils, placing them on a nearby desk.
His back is turned to you, you take an opportunity to glide your hands along his back muscles. He doesn't scold you, or move away, so you continue working your hands up to his shoulders, down his arms. "You seem so tense."
You don't have time to react, he moves so quick pinning you to a desk behind you. The backs of your legs pressed against it, he is mere inches away from you, holding both your wrists in one hand. Joost leans his face down toward yours, his hand sliding down to your neck as he rests it there. His eyes dart between your soft lips and eyes.
"You really wanna get fucked here? Want me to pause my work for a needy slut?" He growls lowly, keeping a firm grip on your neck as he brings his face close to yours, his other hand holding your waist. The sudden change makes your head spin as you smile and look up at him through your lashes. You are finally getting exactly what you wanted. "Yes, please." your smile grows with your arousal as you keep your lidded eyes on his handsome face, plastered with frustration.
You wait for his next move, smiling innocently at him, even though there is not a single innocent thought in your head right now. "I want you, Joost." you say into his ear. He leans into your neck, his lips and moustache ghosting over the sensitive skin. You think he might kiss you, but he licks a stripe on your neck, it makes you moan louder than you anticipated and suddenly he turns you around. His hand pressing down on the back of your neck pushing you into the desk.
"I can give you what you want." he presses his crotch against you. It makes you gasp, you can feel he is big, it excites you to no end, just like the sound of the metal clacking, in the peripheral of your position you can see him undoing his belt and pushing his pants down just enough to free his erection. You were right, he is big – it will be a stretch, but so pleasurable, you are ready for anything he will give you. He wraps his hand around his dick, the tip already dripping pre-cum.
"You want this as bad as I do, don't you?" you ask, wiggling your ass at him.
He just groans in response, still working on his dick, looking down at you. In a swift motion, he flips your skirt up, exposing your panties to him.
"If you wanna pretend you're all angry with me you can, I always liked watching you get angry at other customers." you tease, feeling a new wave of arousal wash over you when you feel his eyes on you.
"Hurry up." you press yourself further into him.
He takes a hold of your hips, taking off your panties in a swift motion and slides his thumb down to your clit, rubbing slow teasing circles over it, effectively shutting you up. The hand he has on the back of your neck tightens against you as he watches your mouth open in a small o, your eyes rolling back in your head. "So fucking easy, I touch you a little and you behave," Joost says, his cock dripping pre-cum against your ass as he throbs watching your face contort from pleasure.
"I am not easy." you try to argue.
"No?" he speeds up his movements on your clit, the wet sound filling the room. "Look at you. I have barely touched you and you are already dripping wet." his fingers move to your hole, he dips one finger in, soon after the second finger follows.
You try to press your thighs together as he continues sliding his fingers in and out of you, but Joost is having none of that. His large thigh knocks your knees apart, keeping you spread open for him so he has full access to your pussy.
"M-mmmm" You moan, your ass wiggling back against him as you try to escape the intense pleasure he was giving you – or were you trying to get more? You are so lost in pleasure. "I want you inside. Put it in." you try to meet his eyes from your position. "Please."
He looks down at you, slowing down his movements, but not completely. "I don't have any condoms on me, sweetheart."
"That's okay. You can do it raw. I don't mind." you plead. "I am on the pill."
He grew even harder than before, your teary eyes and needy voice fogging his judgement. He spends a few more moments stretching you out on his fingers, listening to your moans, what makes you louder, making sure you are ready for him.
You whined at the loss of his fingers, but the feeling was soon replaced by the fat head of his cock. You reach your hand behind you, wrapping your hand around his cock. "Fuck." he exhales loudly as you move your hand from his head along the shaft. You rub the head up and down your folds, mixing his precum with your juices, making sure his cock was nice and wet before he fucked you. But also to hear more of his sounds, you could get drunk on every sound that leaves his mouth.
"Enough, baby. Or the fun will end far too soon for my liking." he moves your hand away.
"I am glad you are having fun, baby." you tease him at the use of a petname already. You wiggle your hips and hear a groan from him. "And you say I'm easy."
The smile from your lips changes into a moan, as you feel him catching his head against your entrance and pressing against it teasingly before he pulles back, making you whine. "Please."
"Please what?" he asks. You didn't miss the teasing tone in his voice, it was his turn to play with you now. "I need you inside. Please" you begged, pouting against his desk as you tried to look back at him, even though it is hard from your position. Joost releases the back of your neck to grab both of your wrists in one large hand, keeping them restrained against your lower back, as he slides his dick slowly into you. The stretch is there, but it is quickly replaced by pleasure when he starts to move dragging against your walls, there is no resistance at how wet you are.
He speeds up the pace of his hips against you, the slapping echoing louder in the room as he abuses your g-spot with his dick. "What's wrong? Too much?" Joost asks, faux sympathy laced in his voice. You can only moan in response. "That's too bad. You wanted this, so you're going to fucking take it." He groans.
He reaches down to rub your clit, feeling you clench around him. Your legs are shaking from the intense pleasure flooding your body. Joost's balls slapping harshly against your clit, making your brain turn to mush as he fucks you so deep.
He is getting embarrassingly close to his release, he hasn't gotten laid in awhile and you are making it so hard for him to last. He leans forward, his chest flush against your back as he crushes you with his weight, his hand restraining your wrists being crushed between your bodies, his mouth right against your ear as he says, "So fucking good for me."
Your eyes roll back in your head each time his fat tip brushes against your sweet spot deep inside you. "Would you have said yes to that guy asking you out?" He whispers, his deep voice in your ear sending goosebumps down your spine. His possessiveness makes you feel hot all over.
"Yes." you lie to see his reaction. "I wanted to agree."
"Oh yeah?" his thrusts get harder, both of his hand gripping your hips, moving you to meet his thrusts. "Would you let him fuck you like this?"
Your pussy squeezes tightly around his cock as he fucks you open for him. He keeps his weight against you, his balls slapping against your thighs making lewd noises to echo around the cafe. "Answer me."
"No." you confess. "I would have never gone with him. I already said I only want you."
"Good." he says and your moans increase in frequency, you are squeezing him impossibly tight. "I'm so close" you moan feeling the familiar pleasure spread in your lower stomach. His weight on you, the fact that it is a public place, empty but public nonetheless, his smell all around you, his sharp thrusts inside you make you closer to your peak by the second. "Do it. Cum all over my cock, pretty girl, c'mon." He coos into your ear, his own dick twitching inside you with his impending release as he keeps the same pace up, working you higher and higher to your orgasm.
Your eyes screw shut and your mouth falls open in a loud moan. "Yeah, that's it- oh fuck" Joost groans as he fucks you through your orgasm. Your moans sound shaky as the rest of your body jolts as it was wracked with your high.
Joost's hips still against your ass as his cock twitches inside you with every rope of cum he shoots deep inside. His balls clench with his cock as he releases inside you, groaning loudly against your ear. You whine back, keeping your thighs pressed together as he rolls his hips against you, letting your walls milk him entirely before he stops moving. "So good." Joost huffs as he comes down from his high, his body crushing yours even more as he relaxed against you from such intense orgasm.
He was still deep inside you and he could already feel how his cum was spilling out around his dick from how much he came. "It is getting hard to breathe..." you whisper against the desk, your cheek being squished into the wood by his body on you. Joost quickly stands up. "Sorry." he groans as he slowly pulls his spent cock out of you.
You hiss as he slides out of you. Your walls clenching around him in instinct, making him wince as your pussy hugs his tip before he slid it fully out of you. He reaches over your body to grab the tissues on the side of his desk, grabbing a couple as he wipes gently against your thighs. He cleans up himself and tucks back into his pants.
He helps you to your feet, you stand on shaky legs, reaching around his shoulders for support. He pulls your panties back up and fixes your skirt.
You can feel his arms wrap around your waist, helping you stand and come back to Earth. You realise you are hugging, he just came inside you, but you are melting at the simple hug.
"Thank you." you say quietly looking up at him from where your head lays on his shoulder.
"Thanking me? For what? Did I fuck you so well?" he asks, looking down at you, tucking a strand behind your ear. Something has changed in him, you can tell, he seems softer.
"For letting me stay." you say. "And yes, you did fuck well. I can still barely stand." you laugh.
He smiles at that, your words boasting his ego. "You can stay any time."
"Any time?" your voice comes out almost a squeak how excited you are.
"We are literally open 24/7." he says after a pause and laughs, you slap his chest lightly and laugh too.
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where the aster grows
ch.1 bookmarks neighbor!price x fem florist!reader
The sky wears blue to your grandmother’s funeral
Memories of yesterday’s rain remain as dew on the grass shards of the cemetery, but the sky gives nothing away. Robin egg belly, sun peaks from behind thinning clouds, and the crisp air denies downpour.
There’s plenty of irony, here. Every fiction iteration of death leads you to believe that nature cries with you, feeding the oceans and the dirt she returns to. And by all accounts of your Ma, who at the ripe age of 87 still jumped in puddles, rain had restorative properties. What about your grief had convinced nature not to join?
Perhaps you had enough for the both of you.
Your father graciously accepts the condolences as people file out into the parking lot. Even from where you stand, you can see the mulberry beneath his eyes, paling ears. At a certain age you forgot his fragility. Found it again as you drove him home after the last visit, offering the tissues in the front compartment. It was the first time you’d seen him cry. You’re nearly 35.
He joins you by the fresh grave once everyone had left. Her coffin is closed, and you think that’s for the best. The morbid curiosity died a long time ago. He doesn’t look at you, and you struggle with your words. You eventually settled with,
“Wanna get dinner? On me.”
His response starts with a sigh. When he faces you, you wish you were five again, when you didn’t recognize misery when it meets your eyes.
“Yeah.”
The hostess gave you a look. It falls somewhere between questioning the formal (albeit bleak) clothes you woreto their hole in the wall diner, or figuring out the relationship between you and man across from you.
The reality is it was a seven-minute walk from the cemetery, and was the cheapest place in the area.
As for your father, he looks young for having a middle-aged daughter. You were a college baby. Your mom didn’t want the responsibility, but your father lacked the iron fist to change his mind on raising you alone. You’ve seen how guilt stamps itself to the print of his loafers for the trivial mistakes. Your absence would eat him alive.
You chew your noodles in a practiced silence. It comes as a surprise to you when your father is the one to break it.
“Your grandma was still working when she died.”
You pause mid-bite. “The…she still kept the old thing?”
Your Ma, after her retirement and just before your grandfather’s too-early departure to the grave, bought a floral shop. You’d visit them for weeks, sharing their flat in Liverpool and helping around the shop while your father worked. Once Pops passed, Ma offered you a paid position as an assistant. You took the job without the salary.
However, when you went to college, you had to quit. She understood- but said she couldn’t hire someone outside of the family. “Wouldn’t feel right”. You had assumed the shop dwindled with her age, and that it had been lost to time and some expensive construction project. But…
Your father laughs. “You’d be surprised. That ‘old thing’ kept a handful of cliental. Still running now.”
You stutter. The image of your grandmother, arthritis bows and yellowing teeth, giving flowers to a sweaty teen in February makes your eyes water. You take another bite to swallow the feeling.
“She never lost her charm, did she.”
He shook his head. He took out a folded piece of apple slice paper, and under the dim lights of the restaurant you see her cursive in browning ink.
You look at him over your water glass. He confirms your hunch when he purposely avoids your eyes.
“Dad I can’t-“
He slides the letter to you. “I know. It’s up to you. but you wouldn’t inherit any debt. She owned the property. It comes with her old house, above it. And…”
He doesn’t say you’re jobless, but you hear it anyway. With your recent ‘let go’, you needed something to pay the bills if you wanted a roof over your head. The English major has really only brought you to libraries and we appreciate your application but emails. Your sigh makes your chest cave.
“I’ll think about it.”
The misery in his eyes is replaced by hope. You wish you hadn’t put it there.
“Great.”
The letter wilts on your desk for three days. You procrastinate opening it- not because you haven’t come to an answer, but because it’s the last remaining piece of Ma you have. It would be like unwrapping a limited-edition action figure or leaving an antique on the edge of the table.
You risk losing what made it so special to begin with. The choice to give an object mortality or permanence.
Your hands shake when you peel the stamp.
Missy,
When you read this, I will have finally kicked the bucket. Pops had always been the patient one, between the two of us, but I think he’s waited long enough.
I know you’ve got a lot on your hands. But the shop and house are yours when I’m gone, if you choose to have it. It’d kill your father, if I gave it to him. Don’t think he knows how to feed the flowers, and I can’t have them all dying on me. I’ve got a reputation to uphold. Think it’d just make him miss me, too. I gave birth to such a sap.
Keep him steady for me, will you? You’ll be just fine, I know it. I swear you were born with two green thumbs- if anyone knows how to keep my petunias, it’s you. And if you don’t take the shop, I want you to sell it. Your father has a notoriously bad sense of character.
Love you heaps and heaps and a pebble more,
You better miss me,
Ma.
You’re weeping when you text your dad for the key and address.
Although it is cliché, walking into the store feels like you never left.
citrus oil. tepid rain. chipping paint.
The store architecture is a family secret.
The room was vacant of the crowded charm that drips from green grape wallpaper before it met your grandfather. leather glove labor remains in the medullary rays of the oak that dresses the shop in various shelves, tables and chairs. The centerpiece, an island with base cabinets, is engraved with small familial symbols- some that you recognize- others older than you are.
But it’s not just your grandfather that breathes in the construction of the store.
Your grandmother was a talented ceramist. Being a florist, pots were her specialty. You find many of them in corners and nests on the floor, warm as they were out the kiln, analeptic in gauzes painted off-white and copper. They hold her other children, fiddle leaf figs and dracaenas, next to smaller pots of her florals, dwarfed by their greener counterparts.
But none of these things are known by someone who isn’t you, which is perhaps why it was so important you inherit it. The secret dies the minute its sold.
The only anomaly is the cat.
Calico sleeps where you’d draw as a child. Nuzzles the lace curtains that haven’t been opened since Ma passed. Looks at you with eyes that convince you animals can miss someone.
You kneel with an outstretched hand, after setting your stuff down. She sits and watches you from afar.
“She’s not here.” You scold yourself for talking to a cat, but when she dips her head to the side you feel strangely understood.
“I miss her too.”
She rolls over, exposing her belly in what you can only assume to be an offering of vulnerability. You run your hand through the burs of her stomach, and when she starts purring the fondness your grandmother must’ve had for her balms your palm and the pit of your stomach.
Everything aches as you sit with applesauce legs on the cool tiles of the main room. It feels weird to call it yours- so you decide to share it with the cat.
“Do you want to run the shop with me?” She rolls over and nuzzles your knee. The corners of your mouth twitch.
Everything lulls. Ataraxia unravels from the spines of the walls. The sun sets over the sills, and the world seems to fold into you, the cat, and the space you’re still learning how to breathe in.
And then the door begins to rattle.
You think it’s a figment- until it rattles again, this time more aggressively.
You’re on your feet in two seconds flat, and the cat scampers to a corner. You see the flickering outline of a wide, tall figure from behind the lace shudders of the door. Your heart leaps to your throat.
In the ten seconds you have before the shadow enters the shop, your franticness focuses on a blue watering can on the shelf. The toolbox with the more intimidating and likely effective weapons sits across the room on a desk, which you do not have time to reach. At least this might keep the perpetrator distracted until you grab them.
The door rattles again, this time it whines at the hinges.
You brace your arm for the throw of your life.
The next few seconds register as a blur. You launch the watering can the minute the door opens, you hear a startled grunt, and you scamper to the toolbox across the room. You pull out a small shovel, aim at the door, until you notice that his eyes seem to be just as startled as yours.
He raises his hands forward in surrender, and your arm falters.
“Who the hell are you.”
#captain john price x reader#captain john price x you#john price x reader#john price x you#price x reader#price x you#cod#price cod#price call of duty#call of duty
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through the valley, part viii
through the valley masterlist
summary: what if Joel didn’t lie? what if there was more people immune? more people like ellie? more people like you?
word count: 2.1k
warnings: this fic doesn’t follow the original plot from tlou part II. canon typical violence. blood.
The next time you woke, there was nothing. No voices. No rain. No warmth. Just the thick, suffocating presence of darkness.
Your hands were tied, as well as your feet, mind still numb. When your eyes got used to the dark, you could see some mannequins inside the room.
You were still in the theater.
The heavy creak of a door opening sent a faint gust of air across your skin. You could hear the steady rhythm of Abby’s footsteps as she approached. Another set of footsteps followed—lighter, more hesitant. Lev.
A dull metallic clang echoed as something was set down beside you. Your machete. Abby let out a slow breath, as if steadying herself, before crouching next to you. She caressed your weapon as she looked at you.
"You know why you're here" her voice was steady, firm, "just tell me where she is and this will be over"
Silence. You remained motionless, your expression unreadable.
Abby exhaled sharply, irritated by your lack of reaction. She reached out and grabbed your chin roughly, tilting your face toward the dim light. You blinked slowly, your eyes unfocused, almost detached from the moment. There was no fear, no urgency, just distant indifference.
She didn't want to hurt you, apart from what Lev told her, she didn't want to. As much as she wanted to crash Ellie's skull with her bare hands, she felt sorry for you.
"I know you can hear me," her grip tightened. "If you don’t talk, this is going to get worse for you."
"Abby…" Lev’s voice was soft, uncertain. "I don’t think she’s going to talk."
Abby let out a frustrated sigh, finally letting go of your face. She stood up abruptly. "So what? The best thing that can happen to you right now is dying, and I'm not letting you die until you tell me something"
You blinked again, slow and deliberate. If Abby had hoped for an outburst, an argument—anything—she was left with nothing but silence.
Before Abby could lose her temper, hurried footsteps sounded just above you, some muffled voices, too. Did Ellie come back?
"You stay with her, I'll go check who it is" the blond said, as the boy replied "No, no don't leave" His small figure got between Abby and the door, where you couldn't see him clearly, thanks to her big and strong back. "Lev, c'mon, move, we-"
"I'm coming with you. I am not leaving you alone."
The noises got closer and closer. It was a man's voice. Abby turned, pale and worried. She grabbed your gun without looking at you, deciding to bother you later.
"You are staying here, end of the discussion."
Maybe it was the numbness you felt, but if you narrowed your eyes, you could hear Yara's voice, scolding her sibling, as she always did before.
Before.
You opened your eyes again to find Lev looking at you, bow rose up. She did leave, you thought.
Then some gunshots were heard, making Lev shiver. His gaze turned to the door. You swallowed some blood, trying to find the words to say.
"If you go now" you started, your voice sounding strange, "you can still survive"
The boy stiffed, trying to evade your burning gaze, knowing you were truly trying to help him. Because he knew you, almost as well as you knew him. You noticed his nervousness growing every second he stayed there. He closed his eyes, not bothering to look at your bloodshot ones.
"I can't leave her" he tried to look at you with anger, with resentment, but he only saw an old friend.
"You will die out there." you murmured, feeling the warmth and metallic taste of blood deep inside your throat. "And she will, too"
"No. No, Abby is strong, she… she will survive"
You stared at him, eyebrow raised, "This isn't about strength. It's about being smart."
The young boy ignored you, facing the door. "Lev" you called his name, sounding strange in your tongue, but somehow right. "Those two killed half of Seattle's population. Tons of soldiers with more experience in the field than you and her combined."
"Shut up!" Lev finally turned to look at you, his gaze distracted for the gunshots. "You have no right to talk at all. You sinned too"
You nodded at the boy calmly, "Yes, but that's what makes us different from them, right? We are sinners. But we are not monsters."
The door opened abruptly, Abby's figure now in front of the two of you. Shouts were heard from the floor above. The blonde grabbed Lev's arm, murmuring something you didn't quite catch.
You were alone in the room again. Your name was being shouted, Ellie was shouting it. You still didn't respond, Lev's gaze still marked in your memory. Ellie broke the door down, her eyes filled with panic when her eyes found your body. You tried to reassure her, that you were okay now that she was there, but your mouth didn't move. Neither did your fingers when you tried to caress her cheek. She was shouting Tommy's name, almost like a plea. You then heard Tommy's tense voice. When did he come? Why couldn't you open your eyes?
You were tired. You wanted to sleep. But first you wanted to look at Ellie, but you couldn't. Her cries and begs were the only sound you heard.
"Please, please. Help her, just-please help her"
Ellie Williams wasn't a religious person. She never had been, and never will. She saw it as something helpless. That was until you entered her life, and you showed her how believing kept you grounded, kept you alive. Every day she kissed the cross you gave her and held it closely to her chest for luck.
Maybe she didn't believe in god, but she certainly believed in you. She'd never prayed before, hell, she didn't know how to do it. She never saw how it was necessary. If something had to happen, it would happen. But right now, when your life was hanging by the thinnest threat, she prayed. Day and night. But every hour that passed, Tommy started to lose hope. Even when they arrived to Jackson, where Ellie had to leave the room where five doctors tried to save you, she didn't stop praying. She prayed as much as she breathed.
Your whole body felt heavy, your head pounding almost as hard as your chest. Breathing seemed like a difficult task to do, as if you haven't done it in a while. Opening your eyes, an artificial white light occupied all your vision. You groaned at the sight, trying to move away from it. You then heard a sound that sounded like a gasp. A hand, almost as cold as your, found your arm. You then saw it, beneath that blinding light, the green eyes you knew so well.
That was it, you were dead. You had to be. But if you were, why did she sound like her? You closed your eyes again, trying as best as you could to listen. But when you did, Ellie's voice seemed anxious again. "No, no, no, don't you dare to fall asleep"
You opened your eyes again, just to see the girl you grew to love crying. Why was she crying? Where were you? She grabbed your hand tightly, yelling for help. Four people entered the room, checking you. But you only saw red. You started screaming and pushing away the helping hands. They had to tie your and beg for you to calm down. You didn't hear anything, your screams shutting away any other noise. Darkness welcomed you then, like an old friend.
The soft breeze strung along with your mother's soft singing, her melodic voice making you sleepy.
The commune was nice. People loved you and respected you, and you didn't have to like them back. It's not like you showed affection to them, you just didn't talk. At all.
"Mama" you whispered, your legs curled up and your head resting on her thigh. She stopped singing, quietly encouraging to continue. "Do you think some day the wolves will stop their hatred towards us?"
She tangled her fingers through the braids that rested on your hair. "Those people don't know what peace is, my darling."
"I'm afraid they won't leave us alone." you whispered minutes after, eyes shifting between your mother's tranquil posture and the ocean.
This time your mother didn't answer you. She kissed your hair, and stayed quiet. That was the last time you saw her alive.
The next morning she went out hunting those awful creatures the apocalypse created, those who were called demons, with some soldiers. She was good with the bow, and she always came back before dawn. But that time she didn't come back, and neither did Paul nor Nina. They tried to hide it from you, explaining there were more infected than she once believed.
But you could feel a sharp pain inside your chest, an intuition that never failed to make you feel sick.
Paul came back a week after. Alone. He explained what happened, what Isaac had done. At some point, the wolves captured her, justifying she was too dangerous to keep alive. So they chose to execute her, in front of all the WLF soldiers.
And that was only the beginning. After her death, everyone seemed to lose their minds, you included. They caged you in Haven, not allowing you to leave and always, always, being watched.
The war started, and even if you were always accompanied, you never felt so alone.
The artificial white light came back to your vision. Although you could not feel your body, there was a soft weight above you. The scent of Ellie filled all your senses. The girl was asleep by your side, her head resting on your chest. With your trembling fingers, you started caressing her back.
You didn't know where you were, but it didn't matter. Not anymore. Ellie's breath changed, turning to face you. She smiled, and you tried to smile back, but you felt tired. Before you could speak - or try to, she sat down in the bed you were. "We are safe, we are in Jackson."
You looked down at the weird, big white shirt you were wearing. "Where's my dress?"
The girl started playing with her fingers, "It was ripped and stained with blood." Ellie pursed her lip at your confused expression. "They had to thow it away."
You breathed out. "I really liked that dress."
"I know, baby, I know."
You had been asleep for days, more days than you thought. Ellie explained your loss of blood, and they had to make a surgery. A head surgery, because you had a traumatic head injury.
You stayed in that room for two more days. You tried to eat, but your body refused it, and you always threw up. Ellie started to grow more and more concerned, especially after knowing your contusion would leave permanent changes.
You had never been in a place like Jackson. It was the opposite of Haven, but still it felt safe.
A week passed, and you started to feel better, as far as can be expected after whatever happen in Seattle. Yougained some weight, finally looking healthier. You grew used to sleep by Ellie's side every night, and waking up with her still asleep. She looked healthier, too.
What you didn't think you could be used to were the curious and repulsed looks you'd received since you arrived. The scars on your face that marked you, now were your biggest insecurity. Questions and words people said on your back, thinking you couldn't hear them, but you always did.
No one seemed to notice, though. Neither did Ellie. And you hated that. Once you were on one of the parks from Jackson, where the kids went after their school classes. One got closer to you, and asked if you wanted to play with him. You nodded, without hesitation.
You were building a sandcastle with a kid named Jamie, when an adult, assumedly his dad, pushed you, yelling at you to leave, calling you monster and a freak and-
Ellie pushed him, shouting at him back. Jesse grabbed you gently from your shoulders, leaving the kid behind.
"The fuck is wrong with you, man?" The auburn girl looked mad, not caring about the kids who were there. The father didn't stop insulting you, calling you things that made you want to cry.
It wasn't the first time that something like that happened. And everyone knew it wasn't going to be the last. That night, you vomited dinner after seeing your face in the bathroom mirror.
No, you definetely weren't going to get used to it.
please let me know your thoughts! y'all are not ready for next chapter...
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#tlou fanfic#ellie williams#ellie williams tlou#ellie the last of us#ellie williams x reader#ellie tlou#ellie williams fluff#ellie williams x female reader#ellie x reader#tlou#tlou ellie#ellie x fem reader#tlou2#the last of us part 2#the last of us 2#tlou fic#tlou fanfiction#the last of us#tlou part 2#the last of us fanfiction
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Bound by Tears, Held by Love- Solivan Brugmansia x Yan! G.N Reader (Smut!)
The kid at the back is a 18+ visual novel Minors don’t interact!-
Words: 16000
Genre: Yandere- Reader is same from the Sol series I wrote!!
(Reader is G.N)-(This one-shot is nsfw!)
Summary : After a long day, For some reason, Sol didn’t come to class today. You missed him terribly! You meet him again? After a nice bath with him ? Will he you make feel better? <3
TW/CW: Mentions of marking, Manipulation, Slight pet-play, Dirty talks, Yandere Y/n and Solivan Brugmansia , Toxic relationship, Unhealthy relationship, Edging turned overstimulation, Suggestive, Manipulation, obsessive behavior, unhealthy relationships/feelings, Clingy, Manipulation, Jealous, Both Reader and Sol are submissive-dominant at one point each, oral sex, rough handling, and marking/branding with bites. It may also touch on themes of possessiveness, dominance.
In short,
Content Warning: This one-shot will contain explicit sexual themes, graphic descriptions of intimate acts, and strong language. It may not be suitable for all audiences.
Please proceed with caution if these triggers could cause distress. If you experience any discomfort
The day had started like any other, but it quickly spiraled into a mess you hadn’t expected. Sol wasn’t at university today. You’d noticed right away—the lack of his subtle smiles, the absence of his quiet presence trailing just a little too close for comfort. It wasn’t until you received a text from him, right as you arrived, that the weight of his absence truly hit.
“Busy today. Don’t wait for me. Be good, pumpkin.”
The message had felt colder than usual, even if he added his usual nickname for you. There wasn’t time to dwell on it, though, because Deryl had immediately intercepted you, going on about how you needed to talk to Crowe. Something about sorting things out, making things right. But you couldn’t—didn’t. Crowe was always so understanding, so kind, and deep down, you felt like you didn’t deserve to lean on him anymore.
Instead, you spent time with Hyugo, grateful for the distraction. His bubbly energy kept things light, even as you carried the weight of your emotions silently. He’d thanked you again for helping him keep his family off his back, allowing him to do what he loved without their interference. Hyugo was a good soul, and you were glad you could be there for him. But as the hours passed, he too had to leave, off to his mysterious errands.
This part of lore is locked <3
Alone now, you wandered aimlessly, the campus feeling too big and too empty without Sol. You thought about your friendship with Crowe, about how things had unfolded. You hadn’t meant to hurt Sol, but it was clear now that your closeness with Crowe had struck a nerve. Sol had always been possessive in his quiet, brooding way, and you’d been too caught up in your own thoughts to notice. He will kill him.
If he kills Crowe.
You would kill him.
You felt like a terrible person. Guilty. Torn. You’d never meant to make him jealous or sad, but you were delusional about the whole situation. You’d let your feelings and uncertainties cloud your judgment. And now, you were left with this gnawing ache, the realization that you’d hurt the one person who always tried so hard to be there for you.
The sky opened up, rain pouring down in heavy sheets. At first, you welcomed it—maybe it would cleanse the suffocating guilt weighing on your chest. But then the tears started, mingling with the rain as they slid down your cheeks. The world around you blurred, and you were thankful no one could see you like this.
The rain might have hidden your tears, but it couldn’t hide the pain. Not from yourself.
The rain fell like a curtain of sorrow, soaking through to the bone, but you barely felt it. Each step homeward was heavy, burdened by a tempest within. The air was thick with the smell of rain on pavement, a melancholy symphony of muted taps and sighs. Your clothes clung to your skin, hair plastered against your face, as if the storm itself sought to keep you captive to your despair.
From the shadows, unseen by your drenched and wandering gaze, Crowe lingered. His dark eyes followed your figure, his usual calm replaced by something raw and unspoken. Beside him, Deryl nudged his arm, his voice low and insistent, “Go. Give it to them. Say something.”
Brittney and Jess, ever the voices of gentle encouragement, echoed Deryl’s sentiment. Crowe exhaled, the weight of their words pushing him toward resolve. He took the umbrella in hand, its promise of shelter feeling heavier than its frame. Slowly, he stepped forward, his polished shoes splashing through shallow puddles.
Yet he stopped.
It wasn’t hesitation that froze him, but the sight that awaited him just ahead. You had paused, your head bowed, lashes fluttering closed against the rain’s assault. A moment of peace amidst the chaos. And then, as if conjured by some unspoken wish, there he stood—Sol.
His silhouette emerged from the haze of rain, an umbrella poised like an offering, a silent guardian come to reclaim his place by your side. Your eyes opened, catching sight of him, and Crowe saw it—the transformation. The way your sorrow melted into joy, the way your lips curved into something radiant, unburdened.
A laugh escaped you, light and unrestrained, and before Crowe could comprehend it, you had flung yourself into Sol’s arms. The man caught you as if it were the most natural thing in the world, his embrace firm yet tender, his hand cradling the back of your head as if you were something precious.
Crowe’s breath caught. For a moment, his grip on the umbrella tightened, knuckles pale against its dark handle. But then, as your laughter rang out again, he forced himself to smile. A smile forged from steel, brittle at its edges, but sincere in its core. You were happy. That was enough. It had to be enough.
You were happy with Mr Brugmansia.
Sol’s gaze lifted then, catching sight of Crowe standing just beyond your bubble of bliss. Sol’s eyes were cold, darkened by the storm, and Crowe felt the weight of his disdain like a physical blow. But Crowe, ever the gentleman, merely inclined his head, a gesture of quiet acknowledgment.
Sol, however, looked away, his jaw tight. To him, Crowe was a specter, a name he hated to utter—Ichabod, the shadow that lingered too close to you for comfort. Sol held you tighter, burying his face in your damp hair as if to remind himself, and you, who truly held your heart.
And so, Crowe turned, his shoes splashing once more through the puddles as he retreated into the rain. The umbrella remained unopened in his hand, its purpose unfulfilled. He carried it as a memento of a chance unclaimed, a reminder of the moment he realized the truth.
You were someone else’s.
But as Crowe disappeared into the storm, the sound of your laughter lingered, like the faintest chime of a distant bell. And for that, he smiled once more, his heart both heavy and light.
He was happy, you were..happy.
The rain cascaded around you, creating a private world where the rest of the universe ceased to exist. You squealed in delight, clutching Sol tighter, your wet clothes making the embrace all the more intimate. Sol’s faint smile deepened, though his cheeks flushed a soft pink that reached to the tips of his ears.
“Did you miss me that much?” he murmured, his voice low, almost teasing.
You pulled back just enough to look at him, your fingers lightly brushing his damp hair from his face. “Of course I missed you! What kind of question is that?” you teased, your tone playful yet edged with sincerity.
Sol’s blush deepened, and he turned his face away, his free hand gripping the umbrella handle tightly. “I… I didn’t mean to stay away. I… If you’re mad, I—” He hesitated, his voice cracking slightly as his gaze found yours again. There was something almost desperate in the way his soft orange eyes searched yours, as though afraid he’d ruined something precious.
“Pumpkin, how… How would I make it up to you?” he asked, the pet name spilling from his lips with a rawness that made your heart flutter.
You couldn’t help it. His flustered expression, his genuine guilt—it was all so endearing. Before he could ramble further, you wrapped your arms around him again, burying your face in his chest. His heart thundered beneath your ear, and you smiled against him.
“You don’t have to make anything up, silly,” you whispered, your voice muffled but laced with affection. Tilting your head up, you pressed a soft kiss to his jawline, lingering just enough to feel him stiffen in surprise. “I’m just so happy to see you, Sol. That’s all that matters.”
The kiss made him freeze for a moment, his wide eyes darting to meet yours. Then, as if the realization of your closeness hit him all at once, he turned away again, his ears burning. “Y-You’re going to kill me,” he muttered, though his lips curved into a shaky smile.
But you weren’t done yet. Your mischievous streak took over, and you decided to lean into his adoration just a little more. With a playful pout, you clasped your hands behind your back and tilted your head, letting the rain streak down your face.
“You know,” you said, your voice teasing, “I could still be mad. Maybe you need to try a little harder to make me forgive you…”
Sol’s eyes snapped back to you, and for a split second, something flickered in his gaze—possessive, intense, and entirely Sol. His blush didn’t fade, but his grip on the umbrella tightened as he leaned slightly closer, his wet hair casting shadows over his face.
“What would it take, pumpkin?” he asked, his voice lower, almost velvety, as if he were daring you to push him further.
Your heart skipped a beat, but instead of backing down, you stepped closer, closing the already narrow gap between you. With a playful laugh, you brushed your fingers against his chest, looking up at him with wide, innocent eyes.
Your heart skipped a beat, but instead of backing down, you stepped closer, closing the already narrow gap between you. With a playful laugh, you brushed your fingers against his chest, looking up at him with wide, innocent eyes.
“Hm… Maybe I’ll tell you if you promise not to disappear on me again,” you said coyly.
Sol’s expression softened, his gaze melting into something utterly smitten. “I promise,” he murmured, the sincerity in his voice making your chest tighten.
For a moment, the rain and the world around you disappeared again, leaving only the two of you standing there, drenched but completely lost in each other. Sol reached out, tucking a strand of wet hair behind your ear, his touch featherlight. His lips parted as though to speak, but instead, he just smiled—soft, adoring, and completely yours.
The rain had slowed to a gentle drizzle by the time you and Sol began your walk home together. You clung to him, your arms looped around one of his, leaning so close your head brushed the curve of his neck. Sol stiffened for a moment, his breath hitching audibly, but he didn’t move away. If anything, he seemed to relax into your touch, a faint smile tugging at his lips despite the blush creeping up his cheeks.
You could feel his pulse quicken under your cheek, and it made your heart flutter. He liked this—you knew he did. The way his fingers tightened ever so slightly on the umbrella handle gave him away. Sol might have been soft-spoken and shy, but there was no hiding how much he adored you.
“You know…” you began, your voice playful and light as you tilted your head to glance up at him. “You’re really cute when you blush like that.”
Sol’s steps faltered, and he let out a soft, embarrassed laugh. “I-I’m not…” he murmured, his voice trailing off as he tried to glance at you but failed to meet your gaze. His blush deepened, and he looked away, biting his lip.
You leaned in closer, your cheek brushing against his damp collarbone as you smiled mischievously. “Oh, but you are,” you teased, your voice dropping to a whisper. “And I think you like when I say it.”
He didn’t deny it. Instead, he let out a shaky breath, his free hand twitching at his side as though he wanted to hold you closer but didn’t quite dare to.
The idea of pushing him further made your heart race, not out of cruelty but because you loved seeing this side of him—the side that was so completely wrapped around you, so utterly devoted and vulnerable. And if you were honest, you liked knowing just how deeply he wanted you, how much he was willing to unravel for you.
“Hey, Sol?” you said suddenly, your voice light and cheerful as though the tension from moments ago had evaporated.
“Hm?” he hummed, glancing at you with those soft, doe-like eyes, still tinted with hesitation.
“Let’s hang out at your place,” you said brightly, tugging on his arm like a child asking for a treat. “We’ve never done that before, right? And it’s only fair since you already know my house so well…”
Your grin widened at the way his eyes widened, his face going from pink to a deep crimson in an instant. He opened his mouth to say something—probably an attempt to deny or explain his little habit of keeping tabs on you—but all that came out was a soft, incoherent sound as he averted his gaze again.
You giggled, delighted by his reaction, and grabbed his hand, interlacing your fingers with his. “It’s fine, Sol,” you said, your voice teasing but reassuring. “I don’t mind. Actually, I think it’s kind of sweet.”
“Sweet?” he echoed, his voice barely above a whisper. His grip on your hand tightened, as though afraid you’d slip away if he didn’t hold on.
“Yeah,” you said with a shrug, swinging his hand slightly as you walked. “You care about me so much. I like that about you. You’re always thinking about me, even when I don’t know it.”
His steps slowed, and he glanced at you with an intensity that made your breath hitch. For a moment, you thought he might say something, but instead, he just smiled—a small, soft smile that held a hint of something deeper, something darker.
You felt your heart race, and the realization hit you like a jolt of electricity: you wanted this. You wanted his obsession, his unrelenting need to be near you, to protect you, to make you his. It was intoxicating, the way he looked at you like you were his entire world.
As you reached the edge of the neighborhood, you tugged on his hand again, pulling him along as you skipped ahead. “Come on, Sol! Don’t look so serious,” you said with a laugh, turning to grin at him. “I’m happy to be with you. Isn’t that enough?”
He blinked, his expression softening as his blush returned. “Y-Yeah,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “It’s more than enough.”
But you could see it in his eyes—the unspoken promise, the depth of his feelings.
Sol wasn’t just happy to be with you; he was complete with you.
You love that about him don’t you?
Maybe god loves you to keep out of your delusional thoughts.
Suddenly,
The sound of the car speeding by echoed through the street, its tires splashing through a puddle with reckless abandon. Before you could even react, mud splashed across your clothes, the brown sludge staining your uniform. A scream escaped you, frustration and annoyance bubbling up as you wiped at your drenched clothing.
“FUCK YOU, CAR DRIVER!” you shouted, your voice carrying through the rain, though your words didn’t seem to make any difference to the speeding vehicle.
You huffed, feeling a little defeated, and looked down at your ruined clothes. “Ugh, this was my main one,” you muttered to yourself, trying to rub at the stains, but it was no use. Your frustration didn’t last long, though, because Sol was already by your side, his worried gaze soft and focused on you.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice surprisingly concerned, but there was a hint of amusement in his eyes that made you pause.
You looked up at him, still damp from the rain and the mud, and his lips were curving into a grin that made you roll your eyes. “What now?” you snapped, shaking your arms in frustration, but it only made him laugh even more.
His laugh was soft and melodic, the kind of sound that made your heart flutter despite the annoyance you were feeling. “You’re so cute when you’re mad,” he said, wiping a tear from his eye as he tried to suppress his laughter.
Your face heated up at his words, and before you could even stop yourself, you let out a loud, flustered kyaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa that was far too loud for the public setting. You nearly died from embarrassment, the sound escaping your lips before you could catch it.
But before you could even think about what was happening, you found yourself leaping at Sol, your hands cupping his face as you kissed him right in the middle of the street, the rain still coming down around you.
His surprised gasp was the only thing you heard before you melted into him, your lips moving against his with a newfound urgency. The entire world around you disappeared, and all you could think about was him—his warmth, his sweetness, the way he smelled like rain and something uniquely him.
Sol, though still caught off guard, didn’t pull away. Instead, he seemed to fall into the kiss with you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he pulled you closer. He was blushing furiously, his hands trembling slightly as he held you against him.
“You’re so cute…” he muttered between kisses, his voice strained with emotion as he kept his hands tightly on you.
You pulled away for a brief second to catch your breath, your chest heaving as you looked at him. His face was still flushed, but the joy in his eyes made your heart race.
“I can’t help it,” you whispered, a little breathless from the kiss. “You’re just too cute, Sol.”
Sol’s smile was so soft, so genuine, and in that moment….
You both walked into his apartment, the warmth from the inside contrasted sharply with the cold, damp air clinging to your clothes. You could feel the wet fabric clinging to your skin, making you wince slightly, but your attention was focused entirely on Sol. You couldn’t help but apologize for the mess you’d made. “I’m sorry about ruining your apartment,” you murmured softly, trying to keep your voice light.
Sol looked at you, his expression softening, and with a little tilt of his head, he replied, “It’s fine, pumpkin,” his voice gentle but filled with warmth. “I’ll make some soup for you. Go take a bath and relax.” He paused, clearly concerned for your well-being.
But you shook your head quickly, stubborn as ever. “No, I’m fine. I don’t need it.” You huffed, folding your arms in a little pout, looking at him with a half-hearted glare.
Sol raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by your refusal. “Are you sure? You’re wet, too.” He glanced down at you and then his own drenched clothes, his eyes flicking back up to meet yours. “It’s not a good idea to stay like this.”
You hesitated for a moment, then an idea popped into your head. Smirking mischievously, you stepped closer to him. “I’m not the only one who’s wet.” You tugged at the hem of his shirt, pulling it just enough to expose the tight muscles beneath.
Sol was caught off guard, stumbling forward slightly as the shirt pulled and he nearly fell into you. His face was suddenly inches from your chest, and his breath hitched, caught in a mix of surprise and something much more heated. You held him close, your arms wrapping around him, the warmth of your body soothing the chill that still lingered on his skin.
He was so cute in that moment, face flushed and body stiff, but still allowing you to hold him. He almost whined, the softness of his voice barely a whisper as he murmured, “Y-You’re… so close…” His chest rose and fell with every shaky breath he took, clearly affected by how close you were.
You couldn’t help but smile at his reaction, feeling a sense of triumph as he melted into your touch. He was usually so calm, so composed, but now, he was so vulnerable. It was almost as if you held the power to break down his walls completely. The way he whimpered, the way his face flushed with embarrassment—he was so cute.
“You’re so adorable, Sol,” you whispered into his ear, squeezing him tighter. “I’m not going anywhere.”
His eyes fluttered shut, a small, contented sigh escaping his lips. “I… I know,” he murmured faintly, his voice soft but full of warmth. “You’re mine…”
You smiled softly, leaning in to kiss his forehead.
You could feel the tension between you and Sol, the air thick with an intensity that was both intoxicating and thrilling. His shyness, his hesitation—everything about him right now was exactly how you wanted him to be. The way he leaned into your touch, the warmth of his body pressed against yours, the way his eyes sparkled with confusion and admiration—it was all so perfect. Your heart raced, your thoughts dizzying with the thought of him.
You smiled softly, your gaze locking onto his as you saw the way his pupils dilated, his breath quickening ever so slightly. There was a flicker in his eyes, something almost desperate, and that only made you want to drive him wild with even more affection. You needed to make him fall harder.
Leaning forward, you brushed your lips against his cheek softly, just a light kiss, then moved to his other cheek, and his jaw, kissing him in soft, slow motions, letting the intensity of each kiss linger. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, his pulse quickening in a way that only spurred your actions further.
His breath hitched, a tiny whimper escaping his lips as you pulled away for just a moment. His eyes were wide, pupils dilated with a mixture of longing and hesitation, and you couldn’t help but smile, the thrill of seeing him like this making your heart race.
“I think you like this, don’t you?” you whispered, teasing him as you gently cupped his face, feeling the warmth of his skin against your fingertips. You kissed him again, this time on his lips, more fervently than before. Your lips moved against his with a feverish hunger, wanting to consume every ounce of him.
He couldn’t stop himself from groaning softly into the kiss, his hands finding their way to your waist, pulling you even closer, his body trembling. His fingers flexed with barely contained desire, but it wasn’t just desire—it was obsession. You could see it in the way his grip tightened, in the way he held onto you like you were the only thing that mattered in this world.
Sol was obsessed—you knew it, and now he was helpless to hide it.
With every kiss you planted on his face, you felt him unravel just a little more. He was no longer the stoic, controlled man you had known. He was yours, body and soul. And you, oh, you were going to make sure he stayed that way.
His face flushed even more, his expression dazed, his eyes half-lidded with a love so deep, it almost seemed like it was suffocating him. His breathing was shallow, and his lips trembled as he tried to form words, but they only came out as a soft, desperate mumble, “Y-You’re… everything. Don’t leave me… please.”
Your lips curled into a slow smile, satisfied with how easily he was slipping into your grasp. You kissed him once more, this time lingering on his lips a little longer, before pulling back just enough to look into his eyes. Those eyes—those sweet, heart-shaped eyes—were all for you. Completely for you.
“I’m not going anywhere, Sol,” you murmured against his lips. “You’re mine. And I’ll never let you go. I’ll make sure of that.”
His grip on you tightened, his heart pounding as he pulled you into a desperate kiss once more.
You smiled softly, knowing you had him right where you wanted him—lost in his obsession, lost in you. And there was no going back now.
The bathroom was warm, steam curling in the air and soft droplets of water trickling down from the walls. You sat on the edge of the tub, a towel loosely draped around your body, watching Sol as he leaned back into the shallow water. His hair clung to his forehead, his cheeks faintly pink from the heat, and his shoulders glistened with droplets. For once, the usually put-together Sol looked vulnerable, stripped bare in more ways than one.
Your eyes wandered to his neck—the spot where his choker usually rested. Without it, the faint bruises and marks stood out on his skin Body, and your heart gave a quiet lurch. They were like shadows of something darker, and while you had questions—so many questions—you held them back. Sol was complex, his past layered with secrets, and you knew better than to push. What mattered wasn’t what the bruises meant, but that they were his. They were a part of him, and you adored every piece of Sol, scars and all.
Sol shifted under your gaze, his movements subtle but telling. He had noticed you looking. His fingers flexed against the tub’s edge, his posture tightening slightly as though he were bracing himself. “What?” he murmured, his voice quiet but tinged with nervousness. “You’ve been staring.”
You tilted your head and smiled, your expression soft and reassuring. “Just admiring you,” you said simply, your tone light but warm enough to wash away any tension that might’ve been building.
He huffed, averting his eyes, his face turning red. “Admiring?” He sounded skeptical, almost incredulous. “I look like a mess.”
You stood, your towel swishing softly as you approached the tub. “You always say that,” you teased gently, kneeling beside him. “And yet, somehow, you keep being wrong.”
He didn’t reply, though you caught the way his lips twitched like he was holding back a smile. His eyes darted to yours briefly, searching, before quickly looking away again. That was just like him—always reluctant to let you see how much your words affected him.
Your gaze fell to his body again. The bruises were darker up close, scattered unevenly along his skin. Some were fading, others still there, and your heart ached at the thought of what might’ve caused them. But as much as you hated the idea of him being hurt, you refused to let it overshadow the truth: bruises or not, Sol was beautiful. Every mark on his skin, every imperfection, every flaw—they were all his.
Reaching out slowly, you let your fingertips brush against his neck, featherlight. Sol tensed immediately, his eyes snapping to yours in alarm. “What are you—”
You silenced him with a kiss, your lips pressing softly against the corner of his mouth. It wasn’t about stopping his words; it was about showing him that there was nothing to fear. Your lips moved to his cheek, then his jaw, each kiss tender and unhurried. And then, finally, you kissed his neck, right over..
Don’t talk about it? It would hurt him.
Sol jolted, a sharp gasp escaping him as his hand flew up to your shoulder, not to push you away but to steady himself. His eyes were wide, his lips parted in shock, and you could feel the way his body trembled slightly under your touch. “W-What are you doing?” he whispered, his voice barely audible, shaky with something that wasn’t quite fear but wasn’t quite anything else either.
You didn’t answer. Instead, you kissed another bruise, and then another, your lips trailing softly along his neck. Each time, his reaction was the same—a quiet hitch of breath, a faint shiver, a look in his eyes that was equal parts bewildered and entranced. He didn’t stop you, though. If anything, his grip on your shoulder tightened, as if anchoring himself to you.
When you finally pulled back, your eyes met his, and you smiled. It wasn’t a teasing smile, nor was it one of pity. It was simply you, looking at him with all the warmth and love you could muster. “You’re beautiful, Sol,” you said softly, your voice steady and sincere. “Every part of you.”
His face crumpled slightly, his expression caught between disbelief and something far more vulnerable. “You… don’t care?” he asked, his voice so small it was almost a whisper.
You frowned, tilting your head. “Care about what?”
“The bruises, The-” he said, his hand moving to cover his neck instinctively. “They’re ugly, aren’t they? They make me look…”
“Human,” you finished for him, cutting off whatever self-deprecating thought was about to leave his lips. You reached out, gently prying his hand away from his neck and holding it in yours. “They make you look human. And I love that. I love you. Bruises, scars, everything. It’s you Sol.“
He stared at you, his eyes wide and glassy, like he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. Then, slowly, his lips curved into the faintest smile—a real one, not the awkward, forced grins he sometimes used to deflect. This smile was soft, genuine, and so filled with emotion that it made your chest ache.
“You’re… unbelievable,” he murmured, his voice thick with something you couldn’t quite place. He shook his head, his wet hair clinging to his forehead, and let out a soft laugh. “How do you do that?”
“Do what?” you asked, your tone playful as you leaned in closer.
“Make me fall for you all over again,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
Your heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, all you could do was look at him, your chest swelling with so much love it felt like it might burst. Then, without a word, you leaned in and kissed him again, your lips moving against his with a tenderness that spoke louder than any words ever could.
Sol melted into the kiss, his hand coming up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing softly against your skin. When you finally pulled away, his eyes were hazy, his expression dazed but utterly content.
You leaned down, your breath ghosting over his skin, and kissed one softly. Sol tensed beneath you, his muscles twitching under your touch, and you smiled to yourself. He was so easy to unravel, and you loved it.
Your lips moved lower, trailing over the bruises with deliberate care, each kiss a whisper of devotion. But your movements weren’t entirely selfless—there was a dark satisfaction in watching him squirm, in hearing the soft gasps and shaky breaths he couldn’t suppress. You wanted him to need you, to crave you, to be as lost in you as you were in him.
“Y-You’re—ah—doing this on purpose,” Sol stammered, his voice trembling as his hand gripped the edge of the towel wrapped around his waist. His face was flushed, his breath uneven, and you could see the way he was struggling to hold himself together.
You didn’t answer. Instead, you kissed another bruise, just above his hip, and felt the way his body shivered in response. Your mind was swimming with thoughts—dark, possessive thoughts about how much you wanted him to belong to you entirely. Not just his body, but his mind, his heart, his soul. You wanted to consume him, to make him forget anything else existed but you.
But then, suddenly, he moved. Before you could react, Sol sat up and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace. The abruptness of it snapped you out of your spiraling thoughts, and for a moment, all you could do was sit there, stunned, as he buried his face against your shoulder.
“Thank you,” he murmured, his voice muffled but heavy with emotion. “Thank you for… accepting me.”
His words hit you like a wave, washing over the darker corners of your mind and leaving something softer in their wake. You blinked, your hands instinctively moving to rest against his back as his grip on you tightened. He was trembling slightly, and you realized that this wasn’t just a hug—it was a lifeline.
“I… I’ve always hated these,” Sol admitted, his voice quiet but raw. “The bruises, the scars… Every bruise was worth it. I thought… I thought when you see them would think I was… ” His voice cracked on the last word, and you felt your chest tighten painfully.
You didn’t say anything, but your arms tightened around him, your hand moving in slow, soothing circles over his back. He sighed, the sound shaky but relieved, and pulled back just enough to look at you. His eyes were glassy, his expression vulnerable in a way that made your heart ache.
“But you don’t see me like that,” he continued, his voice steadier now. “You don’t treat me like I’m… less because of them. And that means more to me than I can ever say.”
Your heart fluttered at his words, and for a moment, you felt like you couldn’t breathe. You’d always known Sol had his own darkness, his own pain, but hearing it laid bare like this was almost too much. And yet, at the same time, it made you love him even more—not just the parts of him that were easy to love, but the parts that were messy and complicated and broken.
But that scared you. Because as much as you loved his obsessive side, as much as you reveled in the way he clung to you, you were terrified of falling for him completely. Fully. You weren’t sure you could handle that—weren’t sure what it would mean if you did.
Sol was watching you, his gaze searching, and you forced yourself to smile, leaning in to kiss his ear softly. The reaction was instant—he gasped, his body jerking slightly as his hands tightened on your waist. “Y-You can’t just—” he started, but his words were cut off as you kissed him again, this time lower, just below his ear.
“You’re so easy to kill with affection.” you murmured, your voice low but tinged with teasing affection. His cheeks turned an even deeper shade of red, and you couldn’t help but smile.
For a moment, neither of you spoke, the only sound in the room the faint drip of water from the faucet. Then, quietly, you mumbled, “Thank you.”
Sol blinked, clearly caught off guard. “What?” he asked, his tone soft but curious.
You pulled back slightly, meeting his gaze, and smiled again. “Thank you for existing,” you said simply. And then, before he could respond, you pressed a soft kiss to his lips, cutting off any words he might’ve tried to say.
Sol didn’t speak again after that. He didn’t need to. The way he held you, the way he looked at you—
The bathwater rippled softly as you guided Sol to sit down in front of you, his towel still loosely draped around his waist. He obeyed without hesitation, his long hair cascading down his back like a silken curtain. His trust in you was absolute, and it made your heart race in the quiet intimacy of the moment. The thought of him being so compliant, so willing to let you care for him, stirred something darkly possessive within you.
With a gentleness that belied the turmoil in your chest, you reached for the shampoo, pouring a generous amount into your hands before running your fingers through his damp hair. Sol sighed softly at the sensation, leaning into your touch as you worked the lather through his locks. His hair was thick and slightly tangled from the water, but you didn’t mind. In fact, you relished every second of it—each tangle you smoothed out felt like another piece of him you were unraveling, another part of him that was undeniably yours.
Your fingers massaged his scalp, his body relaxed further, his shoulders slumping slightly as a soft sigh escaped his lips. The sound was so sweet, so achingly tender, that it sent a thrill through you. You leaned forward without thinking, pressing a kiss to his forehead. His skin was warm beneath your lips, and he made a small, almost contented noise in response. It was domestic in a way you hadn’t expected, and the realization made your chest tighten.
You could feel your thoughts beginning to spiral again, the possessiveness bubbling up as you watched him sit there so obediently, so sweetly. Sol wasn’t just letting you care for him—he was surrendering to you completely, trusting you in a way that no one else ever had. And God, how you loved it. The sight of him like this, vulnerable and utterly at your mercy, made something primal and obsessive stir deep within you.
He was yours. He had to be. No one else could ever see him like this, touch him like this. You wouldn’t allow it.
“Sol,” you murmured, your voice low and husky as you continued to work the shampoo through his hair. He hummed in response, tilting his head slightly to the side as if to give you better access. The gesture was so unthinking, so natural, that it made your breath hitch.
“You’re perfect like this,” you said softly, almost to yourself. He didn’t respond, but the slight flush that crept up the back of his neck told you he’d heard. You leaned down again, pressing another kiss to the crown of his head before rinsing the shampoo out of his hair. The water ran down his back in rivulets, and you couldn’t resist trailing your fingers along the path it made, watching as his skin shivered under your touch.
“You’re spoiling me,” Sol said after a moment, his voice quiet but tinged with affection.
“You deserve it,” you replied simply, reaching for the conditioner. You poured some into your hands before running your fingers through his hair again, taking your time as you worked it in. Sol sighed softly, the sound so content and trusting that it made your chest ache.
It felt almost too good to be true, this moment with him. You’d always loved his obsessive devotion to you, the way he clung to you like you were the only thing keeping him grounded. But now, sitting here with him, washing his hair and hearing the soft sounds of his breathing, you realized something terrifying: you weren’t just obsessed with him. You loved him. Fully, completely, and with a depth that scared you.
You reached for the soap, lathering it in your hands as you gestured for Sol to sit still. His body glistened with water under the soft light of the bathroom, and as you began to wash him, your fingers trailing over his shoulders, he let out a soft sigh. His head tilted slightly, his long hair cascading over one side as if to give you better access.
“Relax,” you murmured, a small, knowing smile playing on your lips. He obeyed immediately, his body pliant under your touch. The sight of him like this—his skin warm and damp, his eyes fluttering shut—sent a quiet thrill through you. You’d never tire of how easily he surrendered to you, how completely he trusted you.
Your hands glided down his arms, the lather spreading as you worked it over his skin. His breathing slowed, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm as if he were falling into a trance. You took your time, letting your fingers explore every curve and line of his body, as though committing it all to memory. When your hands brushed over his chest, you felt the soft hitch in his breath, the faint quiver of his muscles beneath your touch.
“Sol,” you teased, your voice soft but playful. “Are you falling asleep on me?”
“N-No,” he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. His eyes remained closed, and a faint blush crept up his neck.
You chuckled, the sound low and intimate as your hands trailed lower, over his ribs and toward his stomach. His body shivered under your touch, and you couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride at how responsive he was to you. Sol was like putty in your hands, utterly enchanted by your touch.
But just as you let your fingers glide over the taut planes of his stomach, spreading the lather in slow, deliberate circles, his eyes shot open. The spell broke, and he blinked at you as if he’d just realized what was happening.
“Hey,” he murmured, his voice tinged with both embarrassment and something softer, something deeper.
You grinned, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you leaned in closer. “What?” you asked innocently, your hands still trailing over his skin. “I’m just making sure you’re clean.”
His blush deepened, spreading across his cheeks and down his neck as he averted his gaze. “Y-You’re too good at this,” he muttered, his voice barely audible.
You laughed softly, the sound warm and teasing as you reached up to cup his face. “Sol,” you murmured, your voice dropping into something softer, more intimate. “You’re adorable.”
His eyes flicked back to yours, wide and uncertain, and for a moment, he looked so vulnerable, so utterly disarmed, that your heart skipped a beat. But then the mischievous glint returned to your eyes, and you leaned in, pressing a quick, playful kiss to the tip of his nose.
He let out a startled noise, his blush deepening even further as he stared at you, utterly flustered. “W-What was that for?” he asked, his voice high-pitched and incredulous.
You shrugged, a sly smile curling your lips as you reached for the water to rinse him off. “Just because,” you replied simply.
The water cascaded over his skin, washing away the soap as your hands followed the trail of the water. He shivered again, his body instinctively leaning into your touch despite his obvious embarrassment. When you were finished, you grabbed a towel and began patting him dry, taking your time as you worked your way from his shoulders down to his arms and chest.
Sol squirmed slightly under your touch, his blush still burning brightly as he mumbled, “You’re treating me like a kid.”
You grinned, tilting your head to the side as you looked at him. “Oh? Is that so?” you teased, patting his cheeks with the towel.
“Stop!” he protested, his voice flustered as he tried to swat your hands away.
But you didn’t stop. Instead, you leaned in closer, your smile turning downright mischievous as you patted his face even more, the towel brushing against his warm, flushed skin. “You’re too cute when you’re embarrassed, Sol,” you said, your voice full of teasing affection.
He groaned, burying his face in his hands as he mumbled, “You’re impossible.”
You laughed, the sound light and genuine as you ruffled his hair with the towel. “And you’re spoiled,” you shot back, your tone playful but fond.
When you finally pulled back, letting him breathe, you noticed how he avoided your gaze, his blush still firmly in place. He looked so sweet, so utterly flustered, that you couldn’t resist leaning in one last time, pressing a soft kiss to his temple.
The air was warm after the bath, the scent of lavender soap lingering as Sol wrapped a towel around himself and turned toward you. His damp hair clung to his neck and shoulders, his expression soft as he stepped closer and, without warning, pulled you into a hug. The embrace was firm, grounding, and for a moment, you melted into his arms.
Before you could do anything more—tease him, pull him closer, or whisper something playful—he scooped you up and dropped you gently onto the bed. Your body bounced slightly against the mattress, and you looked up at him, smirking.
“You’re bold,” you teased, reaching for him instinctively. Your hands brushed his wrist as you tried to tug him down toward you, but he hesitated, stepping back. The way his ears turned red betrayed him, though.
You sighed softly, letting your hands fall to your sides. “Alright, alright,” you murmured, slipping off the bed and heading to grab some clothes. You rifled through the pile of garments he had stolen—or rather, borrowed—during his… more obsessive days, you found a hoodie of yours that you recognized instantly. It was one of your favorites, worn and soft, and it smelled faintly of detergent and something uniquely Sol.
It was obvious he had cleaned it meticulously, almost reverently. That thought alone sent a small shiver through you as you pulled it over your head. It hung loose and comfortable, perfectly worn in. You smiled, shaking your head softly. Of course, he’d take care of it so well. Sol, with all his odd little habits and quirks, always had a way of surprising you.
Beneath the hoodie, you slipped into your undergarments, feeling comfortable enough in the privacy of his room. Though you spotted pants folded neatly nearby, you ignored them. You were decent enough, and the hoodie covered what it needed to.
The room was cozy, his scent mingling with the fresh linen and faint hints of candle wax. You flopped onto the bed, burying your face in his pillow. It smelled so much like him that it made your chest tighten in a way you weren’t prepared for. Your arms curled around it instinctively, hugging it close as you let yourself relax.
Sol excused himself to dress, leaving you momentarily alone. Your eyes wandered, they landed on the walls. Among the minimalist decorations were posters of classic horror stories—The Headless Horseman and a strikingly eerie illustration inspired by the Grimm brothers’ fairy tales.
You smiled softly. Of course, Sol would have a taste for horror fiction. There was something so fitting about it, considering how quiet and unassuming he could be, yet with that darker edge lurking beneath his calm demeanor. You liked it. More than that, you liked that it was such a unique part of him.
When Sol returned, his hair still damp but neatly combed, his gaze immediately darted toward you. His eyes widened slightly at the sight of you sprawled on his bed, his pillow hugged tightly to your chest, wearing his hoodie.
“Uh… I-I can make some soup,” he stammered, his voice awkward and shy. His eyes flicked away from you as though looking directly at you was too much. “If… you want something warm.”
You propped yourself up on your elbow, grinning mischievously. “That sounds nice,” you replied, your voice light. Then, you noticed his gaze drop briefly before he looked away again, his blush deepening.
“If you need pants, I… I could give you a pair,” he mumbled, scratching the back of his neck.
You laughed softly, sitting up and adjusting the hoodie. “I’ve got undergarments on,” you said, winking at him. “I’m not naked, Sol.”
He sighed, running a hand through his hair as though trying to compose himself. “You’re impossible,” he muttered, but his lips curved into the faintest of smiles.
Instead of heading for the kitchen, he sat down beside you on the bed, his shoulders tense. His gaze flicked to the posters on the wall as if trying to avoid meeting your eyes.
“You seem tired,” he said softly, his voice quieter now.
You tilted your head, studying him for a moment before deciding to ask. “The posters,” you said, nodding toward the wall. “You like horror fiction?”
He froze slightly, his lips parting as though he wasn’t sure how to respond. Then, with a soft sigh, he nodded. “Yeah. It’s… something I’ve always liked,” he admitted.
You smiled, leaning against the headboard. “I already knew,” you said casually, your tone light.
His head snapped toward you, his eyes wide with a mix of surprise and apprehension.
“Don’t worry,” you continued, your voice calm and reassuring. “I’ve stalked you too, Sol.”
“Oh, I keep…”
You shifted closer to him, your smile softening. “I still can’t believe we’re together,” you said quietly, almost as if speaking the words to yourself. “It feels… like a dream.”
Sol’s gaze flicked toward you, his expression unreadable for a moment before he looked away, a faint blush dusting his cheeks. But then, he smiled—a small, shy smile that made your heart ache.
Without thinking, you reached for him, pulling him into a hug. His head rested against your chest, and you let your fingers trail through his damp hair.
“You’re too sweet,” you murmured, your voice teasing but filled with affection.
He didn’t say anything, but the way he melted into your embrace told you everything you needed to know.
You began to toy with his hair, gathering it into your hands and tying it into a loose ponytail. The strands were silky and soft between your fingers, and you couldn’t resist brushing them aside to press a kiss to his forehead.
“Why do you like me?” he asked suddenly, his voice barely above a whisper.
The question caught you off guard, and for a moment, you were silent, your hands stilling in his hair. Then, you smiled, your lips curving into something soft and tender.
“It doesn’t matter,” you said simply, leaning down to press another kiss to his forehead.
He looked up at you, his eyes wide and searching, but he didn’t press further. Instead, he smiled.
Sol settled against you, the closeness between you became almost unbearable. His head rested on your chest, the soft rise and fall of your breathing syncing as though you were two halves of a whole. Slowly, his hand reached out, brushing against yours tentatively at first, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed this level of intimacy.
But when your fingers curled instinctively around his, his hesitation melted. His hand tightened around yours, his thumb brushing softly against your knuckles in a silent reassurance. His warmth radiated into you, and you couldn’t help but sigh softly.
Then, without a word, he shifted slightly. His legs intertwined with yours, his movements slow and careful as if testing the waters. The heat of his skin against yours sent a shiver up your spine, and you had to bite your lip to keep from making a sound.
“Sol,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.
He looked up at you, his eyes soft yet intense, his expression unreadable. His head tilted slightly, and before you could say anything else, he leaned closer. His forehead rested against yours, his damp hair falling slightly over his face.
The way he looked at you, so full of quiet devotion, made your heart race. Your breaths mingled, and the air between you felt thick with something unspoken.
“Is this okay?” he murmured, his voice so soft it was almost a breath.
You didn’t trust your voice, so you nodded, your eyes fluttering shut as you let yourself sink into the moment.
His hand tightened slightly around yours, and his leg shifted, pressing more firmly against yours. The closeness was overwhelming, intoxicating, and you couldn’t help the soft noise that escaped your lips—a quiet, almost inaudible moan that you couldn’t suppress.
Sol froze for a moment, his eyes wide as he pulled back slightly to look at you. His face was flushed, his lips parted in surprise.
“Did you just—?” he began, his voice tinged with both surprise and embarrassment.
You felt your cheeks heat up, and you quickly averted your gaze, trying to brush it off. “Don’t get too cocky,” you muttered, your voice laced with playful annoyance.
But he didn’t let it go. A small, mischievous smile tugged at his lips, and he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear. “Was that because of me?”
“What was that sound?” he asked softly, as if he wasn’t sure whether it was intentional or not, but he was enjoying the effect it had on you.
Your heart raced, and you almost cursed yourself for how easily he could reduce you to a mess of emotions. You bit your lip, trying to keep quiet, but it was becoming harder by the second.
His hand slid down to your neck, gently pressing against the sensitive skin there. His thumb stroked over your pulse point, and you couldn’t hold back the soft gasp that escaped your lips.
Sol’s eyes widened slightly as your breath hitched, his grip tightening ever so slightly. “Is that… making you nervous?” he asked, voice dripping with mischief.
You turned your head to the side, avoiding his gaze, but his fingers remained on your neck, steadying you. You felt the tension between you, the way his presence seemed to wrap around you like a gentle, but inescapable, force.
His chuckle rumbled softly in his chest, and you could feel it against your skin as he leaned in once more. “You’re cute when you try to hide it,” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear.
Another involuntary noise slipped from your lips—a soft whimper that you couldn’t control.
Sol’s smirk deepened, and he pulled back just enough to catch your eye. “So sensitive,” he murmured, almost like a revelation. “I didn’t think I’d get you this flustered so easily.”
Your face flushed with embarrassment, but you couldn’t find it in you to pull away from him. You were stuck in a whirlwind of emotions, of desires you didn’t want to face. It was so easy for him to turn your insides into a tangled mess with just a few touches, a few words.
He leaned in again, pressing a soft kiss to your ear, then your jaw, trailing down to your neck. Each kiss was slow, deliberate, and it made your heart beat faster. With every movement, he pushed you closer to the edge of restraint, knowing just how far to go before pulling back.
“You’re making it hard for me to resist,” he whispered, his voice low and filled with longing. “But I think you like this, don’t you?”
“Sol…” you breathed, and you couldn’t help but sound desperate. You hated how easily he had you on the edge, how quickly he could make you lose control of yourself.
He smiled softly, sensing the change in your tone. “You’re mine,” he said, his voice just above a whisper, but it felt like a declaration. His words wrapped around you, and the possessiveness in his voice made your heart race even more.
You couldn’t find words, couldn’t fight the overwhelming desire that was building between you both. You could feel his pulse quicken, his breath becoming more erratic, and you knew that you were both slipping further into something you couldn’t pull back from.
Sol’s hand slid down your back, pulling you closer once more. You gasped, the closeness of your bodies making everything feel more intense, more urgent. You could feel his lips on your skin again, each kiss deeper than the last.
Sol’s fingers danced along your spine, sending tingles through your body with each light caress. He leaned in close, his warm breath ghosting over your ear as he whispered, “I’m going to make you feel so good, Pumpkin.”
His words sent a shiver down your spine, and you let out a soft moan, arching into his touch. Sol chuckled, the vibrations causing your sensitive skin to prickle with delight. “Like that, huh?” he teased, nipping playfully at your earlobe.
His other hand came up to cup your cheek, turning your face towards his. Your lips met in a slow, sensual kiss, tongues dancing together in a heated dance. Sol’s hands roamed your body, tracing the curves of your hips and thighs before sliding up under your hoodie to explore the smooth expanse of your stomach.
“Ah-”
Sol’s fingers trailed lower, dipping beneath the hem of your skirt to brush against the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh. He smiled against your mouth, feeling your muscles tense in anticipation. “Patience, my dear,” he cooed, his breath hot against your skin.
Slowly, deliberately, his hand crept higher, until his fingertips grazed the damp fabric of your panties. You cried out, your hips jerking involuntarily as electric pleasure zapped through you. Sol’s eyes darkened with lust at the sound of your desperation, and he pressed a final, teasing kiss to your lips before pulling back.
“Shh, relax,” he soothed, his voice low and husky. “Let me take care of you.” With a deft motion, he teases your sex, baring you completely to his hungry gaze.
Sol’s eyes gleamed with wicked intent as He raked over your exposed sex, drinking in the sight of your exposed….. Without warning, He dipped between your thighs, spreading you open further for their exploration.
“Ahhh!” you gasped, back arching off the bed as their skilled fingers found your most sensitive spots. They stroke? circled? applying just the right amount of pressure to send waves of ecstasy crashing through you.
Sol’s free hand slid up your body to palm one of your chest, rolling the nipple between his fingers as they continued their relentless assault on your clit. The dual sensations were almost too much to bear, and you felt yourself teetering on the edge of a precipice, desperate for release.
“You’re so responsive,” Sol murmured, their voice a husky growl of approval. “I can’t wait to see you come undone.”
Sol groaned, his fingers faltering in their delicious torment of your clit as you suddenly turned the tables, your small hands wrapping around his neck and pulling him down into a searing kiss. Your tongue dueled with theirs, a playful dominance asserting itself even as your laughter bubbled up from within you.
When you finally broke the kiss, panting and grinning up at Sol, there was a mischievous glint in your eye. “Did you have fun, hmm?” you teased, your fingers trailing down his chest to wrap around the thick length of his erection. Sol’s breath hitched, his hips bucking instinctively into your touch.
“Oh, I think it’s time we even the score,” you giggled, giving his cock a squeeze that made him grunt. Your hands moved with frantic energy, stroking and twisting, exploring every inch of his heated flesh.
Sol’s eyes rolled back in bliss as your skilled hands worked their magic, coaxing his member to full, throbbing hardness. Each stroke sent jolts of electric pleasure coursing through his veins, making him tremble with anticipation.
Your fingers danced along the sensitive underside, teasing the frenulum until it twitched beneath your touch. Then, with a wicked grin, you wrapped your thumb around the head, applying just the right amount of pressure to make him see stars. Sol’s hips jerked erratically, seeking more of your tantalizing friction.
Lost in the haze of lust, he tangled his fingers in your hair, tugging gently as he guided your mouth closer to his aching cock. “Please,” he begged, his voice husky with need. “I want to feel those sweet lips around me.”
Despite Sol’s pleas, you continued to deny him direct contact, instead focusing on tormenting his neck with tender bites and languid kisses. His whimpering only seemed to encourage you, fueling the fire burning within.
With a particularly sharp nip to his jugular, you murmured against his skin, “Not yet, my love. We’re going to take this nice and slow.” Your hot breath ghosted over his pulse point, causing it to race further out of control.
Sol’s body tensed, straining for release even as he knew it was futile. The combination of your teasing touch and maddening kisses had him teetering on the edge, desperate for more. But you remained resolute, determined to draw out his pleasure until he was writhing in ecstasy.
Sol’s breath came in ragged gasps as you toyed with him, your fingers tracing patterns along the shaft of his cock while your lips left a trail of love bites across his throat. Each delicate touch and nip sent shockwaves of desire rippling through him, threatening to shatter his composure.
“Please, Pumpkin,” he whimpered, his voice cracking with desperation. “I can't… I need…”
But you simply chuckled, the vibrations humming against his skin as you peppered his neck with open-mouthed kisses. Your hand slid lower, cupping the heavy weight of his balls and rolling them gently between your fingers.
Sol’s knees nearly buckled at the sensation, his mind clouding with pleasure.
Sol’s body shook like a leaf in a storm as you expertly manipulated his most sensitive areas. The gentle caress of your fingers against his testicles sent waves of euphoria crashing over him, each passing second drawing him closer to the brink of climax.
“Y/n…” he groaned, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m so close… Don’t stop, please…”
Despite his urgent pleas, you continued to tease and torment him, refusing to grant him the release he so desperately craved. Your fingers tightened around his balls, applying just the right amount of pressure to keep him hovering on the precipice of orgasm.
Sol’s hips bucked wildly, seeking friction anywhere he could get it. His cock throbbed in your grasp, the head a deep, pulsating purple as it strained towards your palm.
With a sudden, decisive movement, you pulled your hand away from Sol’s aching cock, leaving him bereft and shaking with unfulfilled need. He let out a strangled cry, his body arching off the bed as if trying to follow the path of your retreating fingers.
“No, wait!” Sol pleaded, his voice raw with desperation. “Don’t stop now, please!”
But you merely smiled enigmatically, your gaze locked onto his tortured expression. Slowly, deliberately, you began to remove your clothes, revealing inch after inch of creamy, unblemished skin.
Sol’s eyes widened, drinking in the sight of your naked form. His gaze lingered, the gentle curve of your waist, and the tantalizing hint of your sex peeking out from between your thighs.
Sol watched, transfixed, you slipped out of your remaining garments, leaving yourself bare and beautiful before him. His breath caught in his throat at the breathtaking sight, and he couldn’t help but drool slightly in anticipation.
But instead of closing the distance and indulging in the carnal delights offered, you suddenly adopted a playful, domineering tone. “Now, pet, it’s time for your punishment,” you declared, a wicked gleam in your eye.
Without warning, you grasped Sol’s wrists and pinned them above his head, holding him in place with an iron grip. “Be a good boy and accept what’s coming to you,” you cooed, your voice dripping with mock sweetness.
Leaning in close, you whispered hotly against his ear, “Good boy, Sol. Such a naughty, needy little pup, aren’t you?”
Sol’s eyes widened in confusion and frustration as you giggled, the sound like music to his ears despite the torment you were inflicting upon him. “What…what are you doing?” he stammered, his chest heaving with exertion.
Just as he thought you might finally give in to his desperate needs, you leaned down and wrapped your fingers around his throbbing cock once more. Sol’s back arched off the bed, a guttural moan escaping his lips as your warm touch enveloped him.
But then, you spoke, your voice low and commanding. “Remember, pet, you’re not allowed to cum. Not until I say so.”
Sol’s mind reeled, struggling to comprehend the twisted game you were playing. His body, however, responded instinctively, already tensing and preparing for the inevitable release.
Sol’s world tilted on its axis as your plush lips closed around the head of his cock, your tongue darting out to lick the sensitive underside. He cried out, his fingers digging into the sheets as he fought the urge to thrust deeper into the heavenly warmth of your mouth.
“P-pumpkin, oh god, yes!” he gasped, his voice a hoarse whisper. “More, please, I need…”
But even as the plea left his lips, you pulled back, denying him the intense pleasure he so desperately craved. Your lips hovered just inches from his aching flesh, and you looked up at him with a mischievous glint in your eye.
“Not yet, pet,” you purred, your breath ghosting over his sensitive tip. “We’re going to take this slow and savor every moment.”
With a sly smile, you resumed your sensual assault on Sol’s cock, lavishing attention on the throbbing length with your lips, tongue, and teeth. Each kiss, each lap of your tongue, sent jolts of electricity coursing through his veins, driving him closer to the edge.
Your hands roamed his body, exploring every contour and crevice with a hungry curiosity. Fingers danced across his nipples, tweaking and tugging until they pebbled beneath your touch. Lower still, you traced the lines of his abs, dipping into his navel before continuing downward to tease the sensitive skin behind his balls.
Sol’s moans grew louder, more desperate, as you worked him over with skillful precision. His hips bucked reflexively, seeking more of your tantalizing touches, but you held firm, maintaining control over the pace of his pleasure.
“Please, Y/n, I can't… It’s too much,” he begged, his voice breaking on a sob. “Hurry, make me cum, I need it so badly!”
Sol’s entire being was consumed by the overwhelming sensations coursing through him. His muscles clenched and released in rhythmic spasms, searching for purchase as his mind fogged with lust. Whimpers and gasps spilled from his lips, punctuating the air with his desperate need for release.
Despite his impassioned pleas, you continued your deliberate, torturous pace. Your mouth slid up and down his shaft, coating it in saliva as you hummed a seductive melody against his sensitive skin. Meanwhile, your fingers pressed insistently against his virgin hole, coaxing it open ever so slightly.
Sol’s vision blurred, his senses overwhelmed by the dual stimuli.
Just as Sol was about to surrender to the impending orgasm, you abruptly ceased all contact, leaving him aching and empty. He whined in protest, his hips jerking erratically as he struggled to process the sudden withdrawal of pleasure.
“No, no, no!” you chided gently, your voice a soothing balm amidst the turmoil. “Not yet, my love. We have to hold it for me, okay?”
Sol’s gaze snapped to yours, desperation etched across his features. “But why?….” he asked, his words slurring together in his haste to understand.
You reached out, cupping his cheek tenderly. “Because I want to see how far we can push ourselves, darling. How deep our love can go when we’re willing to explore the darkest, most forbidden corners of desire.”
With a sultry smirk, you returned to worshipping Sol’s cock, your lips sealing around the swollen head once more. He groaned, his fingers tangling in your hair as you began to suckle him with renewed vigor.
Your tongue swirled around the sensitive crown, lapping up the precum that had begun to leak in response to your teasing. The taste of his arousal filled your mouth, a heady elixir that only served to heighten your own desire.
You bobbed your head along his length, your free hand resumed its exploration of Sol’s body. Fingers trailed down his stomach, circling his navel before delving lower to stroke the delicate skin behind his testicles.
Sol’s thighs trembled, his legs falling open wider in invitation.
Sol’s body was a living, breathing flame, every inch of him burning with need as you continued to worship his cock with your skilled mouth. Your lips and tongue worked in perfect harmony, drawing out moans and whimpers of pure bliss from his tortured soul.
The sensation of your fingers dancing across his skin, tracing patterns of pleasure, only added fuel to the inferno raging within him. His hips rocked involuntarily, seeking more of your tantalizing touch, even as he struggled to maintain control over his rapidly unraveling composure.
“fuck, your mouth feels incredible,” Sol gasped, his voice strained with the effort of holding back his climax. “I don’t know how much longer I can… Ahh, god, yes, just like that!”
Sol’s cries of pleasure echoed through the room, a symphony of desperation and need. His body shook like a leaf, every muscle tensed and coiled as he teetered on the precipice of ecstasy. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, his vision blurring with the intensity of his emotions.
“Oh, please, I can't… I’m going to…!” he wailed, his voice high-pitched and trembling. The pitiful sounds of his sobs and whimpers mingled with the wet slap of your lips on his cock, creating a perverse harmony of lust and anguish.
“Now, Sol, give it to me,” you commanded softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “Cum for me, my love.”
At your words, Sol’s control shattered. With a hoarse cry, he exploded, his hot seed spurting into your eagerly waiting mouth. You swallowed every drop, relishing the salty-sweet taste of his release as it coated your tongue.
Sol’s orgasm subsided, you released his softening cock from your lips with a gentle pop. A shiver ran through you at the sight of his spent form, his chest heaving with exertion. Almost imperceptibly, a whimper escaped your own lips, a sound of raw, unbridled desire that seemed to come from the very depths of your being.
Sol stared at you in awe, his glazed eyes drinking in the sight of your cum-streaked lips and flushed cheeks. A soft, dazed murmur escaped his lips as he tried to process the intensity of what had just transpired between you.
“That was… incredible,” he breathed, his voice shaky and laced with wonder. “Seeing you take my cum like that, smiling at me with your mouth still full of it…”
He trailed off, his gaze fixating on your tongue as it lazily licked across your lower lip, cleaning away the remnants of his essence. The erotic display sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through Sol’s veins, leaving him feeling weak and utterly spent.
His legs gave out, and he collapsed onto the bed, his body limp and pliant beneath the covers.
Sol lay there, lost in the aftermath of his intense climax, you crawled onto the bed beside him, your movements slow and sensual. You leaned in close, your warm breath ghosting across his skin as you whispered huskily in his ear.
Your hand drifted down his torso, tracing the contours of his abdomen before dipping lower to brush against the sensitive flesh of his inner thigh. Sol’s eyelids fluttered shut, a soft sigh escaping his parted lips as he surrendered to your touch.
Sol’s senses were overwhelmed by the intoxicating aroma of your skin, the scent of your very essence enveloping him like a comforting embrace. It was a fragrance unlike anything else, a unique blend that spoke directly to his soul, igniting a primal hunger within him.
His nostrils flared, drawing in deeper breaths as he inhaled the heady musk. It was a smell that made his heart race, his pulse pound, and his loins throb with desperate need. This was the scent of his soulmate, the one thing capable of reducing him to a panting, whimpering mess.
Sol groaned, his voice thick with lust. “Your smell is driving me crazy. I need to bury my face in you, to lose myself in it forever.”
With a wicked grin, you pressed closer, allowing Sol to breathe in your scent more deeply. His hands instinctively reached for you, eager to pull you flush against his heated body, but you deftly evaded his grasp, trailing your fingers along his skin instead.
In an instant, you found yourself on your back, Sol looming above you with a triumphant glint in his eye. His hands pinned your wrists to the mattress, holding you in place as he towered over your prone form.
“What did you expect, Ame?” he growled, his voice low and menacing. “After the way you tormented me today, leaving me a sobbing, cum-drunk mess, you thought you could escape retribution?”
Sol’s free hand slid down your stomach, his fingers tracing the curve of your hip before dipping lower, seeking the heat between your thighs. You shivered, a gasp escaping your lips his touch sending jolts of electricity through your nervous system.
“You deserve this, every tease and taunt coming back tenfold,”
Your eyes widened in shock. You squirmed beneath him, trying to wriggle free from his grip, but he held fast, his gaze burning into yours with a fierce intensity.
“No, wait!” you stammered, your voice trembling with a mix of fear and arousal. “I didn’t mean it like that, I swear! I just…got carried away, okay? It wasn’t supposed to lead to this!”
Sol’s expression softened slightly, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes as he listened to your frantic protests. He released your wrists, allowing you to move, but only to slide his hand further up your thigh, pushing your skirt higher in the process.
“Oh, I think it’s exactly what you wanted,” he countered, his tone gentle yet persuasive.
“Don’t try to deny it, Pumpkin,” Sol murmured, his fingers brushing against the damp lace of your panties. “Your body’s reaction tells a different story. You’re just as desperate for this as I am.”
Without waiting for a response, Sol leaned down, his hot breath fanning over your sensitive flesh as he pressed open-mouthed kisses along your inner thigh. Each tender touch sent sparks racing up your spine, leaving you quivering and aching for more.
“Sol…” you whimpered, your hips bucking involuntarily as his warm breath ghosted over your most intimate area. The sudden onslaught of sensations had your mind reeling, thoughts scattering like leaves in a storm.
“It’s not fair, I swear!” you managed to gasp out between moans, even as your body betrayed your words, arching into Sol’s ministrations. “We were just…playing around, having fun! This isn’t part of the game!”
Despite your protests, your fingers threaded through Sol’s hair, urging him closer, silently begging for more of that exquisite torture. The conflicting emotions warring within you - guilt, excitement, need - created a dizzying cocktail that left you breathless and helpless beneath his skilled touch.
Sol chuckled darkly, the vibrations sending shivers down your spine as he continued his sensual assault. “Oh, but it feels so good, doesn’t it?” he purred, his tongue darting out to taste your essence, savoring the tangy sweetness of your arousal.
You cried out, your back bowing off the bed as Sol worked you open, claiming you as his own.
“That’s it, ” he coaxed, his voice a seductive rumble. “Let me in, let me make you mine.”
You felt your mind clouding, thoughts fragmenting into nothingness. All that remained was the intense pleasure coursing through your veins, the overwhelming urge to surrender completely to the man dominating your body.
“Y-yes, Sol, please,” you begged, your voice barely recognizable, consumed by a possessive fervor. “Make me yours, fill me up, mark me as your own!”
In your haze, you couldn’t bear the thought of anyone else experiencing Sol’s touch, his passion. The very idea sent a surge of jealous rage through your bloodstream, fueling your desperation to claim him just as fiercely.
“I’m yours, only yours,” you declared, your nails raking down Sol’s back as you pulled him closer, crushing your mouth to his in a bruising kiss.
Sol groaned into the kiss, his tongue plundering your mouth with wild abandon as he drove his fingers deeper, hitting that sweet spot within you that made stars explode behind your eyelids. Your body convulsed, a scream tearing from your throat as the first wave of your climax crashed over you.
But Sol wasn’t done yet. He withdrew his fingers, leaving you empty and aching, before replacing them with his thick cock. With a single powerful thrust, he buried himself to your aching hole, stretching you wide around his girth.
“Ahhh fuck, you feel incredible,” he rasped, his hips beginning to piston in and out at a relentless pace. “So tight, so perfect. Mine.”
he pounded into you, Sol’s hands gripped your hips hard enough to leave bruises, marking you as his territory.
“Please, Sol, harder!” you pleaded, your voice ragged with desire and something deeper, more primal. “Fill me up, make me yours forever!”
With a guttural growl, Sol obliged, his thrusts becoming brutal and unrelenting as he chased his own release. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, punctuated by your cries of ecstasy.
Just as Sol’s movements became erratic, signaling his impending climax, he paused, his cock still buried deep within you. He cupped your face in his hands, forcing you to meet his intense gaze.
You were lost in the throes of passion, your body writhing beneath Sol’s, when his movements suddenly halted. Confused, you opened your eyes to find him staring intently at you, his piercing gaze searching your features.
“Y/n..” he prompted, his voice low and urgent. “Will we make a good family, together always?”
The question hung in the air, heavy with meaning, until the shrill ring of a phone shattered the moment. Sol cursed under his breath, pulling out of you and reaching for the device on the nightstand.
You watched, bewildered, as he answered the call, his expression darkening with each passing second. His jaw clenched, and a vein pulsed in his temple, betraying his growing anger.
“Who is it?” you finally managed to ask, though you already suspected the answer based on Sol’s reaction.
Sol ended the call abruptly, tossing the phone aside with a snarl. He turned to you, his eyes blazing with a fierce, possessive light.
“Crowe,” he spat, his voice dripping with venom. “Thinks he can just call here, now? After everything? Didn’t you stop talking to him? Why is he bothering you..?”
Before you could respond, Sol’s lips crashed against your neck, biting down hard enough to draw blood. You gasped, a mix of pain and pleasure coursing through you as he claimed you once more.
Sol’s jealousy was palpable, a living thing that wrapped around you both, squeezing tight. In that moment, you reveled in it, in the knowledge that Crowe’s interference had sparked such a raw, primal reaction in your lover.
“You’re mine,” Sol growled against your skin, his teeth scraping lightly over the wound he’d inflicted.
Sol’s grip on your waist tightened, his fingers digging into your flesh as he held you close, his hot breath fanning over your ear. “He thinks he can have you, after all this time? After everything I’ve done for you?”
His voice was a low, menacing purr, laced with dark promise. You could practically feel the obsessive hunger radiating off him, the sheer intensity of his desire to keep you, to possess you utterly.
“Hmmm? Only you of course! But you’re jealous thats so cute!!”
Sol’s eyes flashed with a dangerous light at your teasing words, a low growl rumbling in his chest. He captured your mouth in a searing kiss, his tongue invading, staking his claim.
When he broke away, his lips curled into a smirk, a hint of fang visible. “Cute? You think my jealousy is cute?”
His hand slid up your ribcage, fingers closing around your throat in a gentle but unmistakable grasp. “I’ll show you cute,” he purred, leaning in close. “I’ll worship every inch of you, until you’re begging me to stop.”
Sol’s breath washed over your face, You felt yourself melting into his touch, your body responding eagerly to his dark promises.
Sol cupped your cheeks, but his eyes never left yours, burning with an intensity that made your heart race. “You want my obsession,” he whispered, his voice low and husky. “You want to be consumed by it, to feel like you’re the only thing that matters in this world?”
Without waiting for a response, he captured your lips again, kissing you with a ferocity that stole your breath. His hands roamed your body, touching you everywhere at once, claiming every curve and contour as his own.
Sol’s teeth scraped against your bottom lip, tugging gently before soothing the sting with his tongue. He explored your mouth with renewed urgency, as if trying to map every inch of you, to memorize the taste and feel of you.
Breaking the kiss, Sol pressed his forehead against yours, his breathing ragged.
Sol’s eyes gleamed with a manic intensity, a crazed devotion that sent shivers down your spine. He leaned in closer, his nose brushing against yours as he spoke in a fervent whisper.
“I love you, I love you so much it hurts. Every breath I take is for you, every heartbeat, every thought.” His hands framed your face, thumbs stroking your cheekbones with a tender reverence that belied the wildness in his gaze.
“You’re my everything, my reason for existing. Without you, there’s nothing. No purpose, no joy, no life.” Sol’s voice cracked, emotion raw and exposed. “I’d do anything for you, kill anyone who tries to take you from me and I’m yours, forever and always.”
Sol’s declaration hung in the air, heavy with the weight of his all-consuming love. He pulled back slightly, his fingers trailing down your neck, leaving a path of tingling heat in their wake.
With that, Sol’s mouth descended upon yours once more, kissing you with a desperate hunger. His hands roamed your body, kneading your flesh, claiming you as his own.
Sol’s gaze drifted down to your exposed neck, his eyes darkening with primal desire. Without hesitation, he leaned in, his teeth grazing the tender skin before sinking in just enough to leave a mark. A claim, a brand, a promise of possession.
He repeated this ritual along your collarbone and shoulder, each nip and suckle punctuating his devotion. Your skin prickled with goosebumps, a mix of pleasure and trepidation as you felt his love etched into your flesh.
Finally, Sol’s attention turned to your inner thigh, his mouth seeking out the delicate skin just above your knee. He nuzzled and kissed the area, his tongue darting out to taste the saltiness of your sweat before closing his lips around the tender flesh and sucking gently.
Before you could react, Sol shifted positions, pinning you beneath him. He ground his hips against yours, the thick length of his cock…
Without warning, he pushed forward, breaching your tight entrance with a single, forceful thrust. You cried out, shocked by the sudden intrusion, your body struggling to accommodate his girth.
Sol didn’t pause, not even for a moment. He began to move, his powerful thrusts driving him deeper into your willing depths. The burn was intense, but you welcomed it, reveling in the feeling of being so thoroughly possessed.
“Fuck, You feel so good”
“Sol, you keep teasing me- This isn’t fair..” you wailed, tears of pleasure streaming down your face as Sol continued to pound into you with ruthless abandon. Each brutal thrust sent shockwaves of ecstasy through your body, your walls clenching around his invading length.
Despite your protests, you couldn’t deny the intense arousal building within you. Your moans grew louder, more wanton, as your body surrendered to the overwhelming sensations.
Sol’s hands gripped your hips, holding you steady as he drove himself deeper, chasing his release. “Fair? Life isn’t fair, Ame,” he panted, his breath hot against your ear. “But I’ll make you mine, completely, irrevocably. And you’ll love every minute of it.”
His words ignited a fire within you
Sol’s thrusts grew more erratic, his hips snapping forward with a primal urgency as he chased his impending orgasm.
With a guttural roar, he buried himself to the hilt, his seed erupting deep within your quivering passage. The sensation of him filling you, marking you as his, sent you spiraling further into rapture.
Sol quickly adjusted your position, flipping you onto your stomach and pulling your hips back to present yourself to him. He settled between your spread thighs, the head of his still-hard cock nudging insistently at your dripping entrance.
Without preamble, he surged forward, burying himself to the hilt in one powerful thrust. A low groan escaped him as he savored the tight heat enveloping his length, your inner walls clinging to him like a velvet vice.
He began to move, his thrusts deep and deliberate, each stroke driving him impossibly farther into your core. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the air, punctuated by your muffled moans and gasps.
Sol’s hands roamed your back, fingernails digging into your flesh as he claimed you, owning every inch of you.
With a gentleness that contrasted with his earlier passion, Sol’s movements became languid and measured. He savoring each slide of his engorged length within your welcoming warmth, relishing the way your slick channel adapted to his shape.
He rocked slowly into you, Sol’s fingertips traced tantalizing patterns along your spine, sending shivers down your nerves. His breath tickled your ear, his murmurs of affection weaving a spell of tranquility around you.
“Don’t tense up,” he cooed, his tone soothing. “Just relax and let me in. I promise I’ll take care of you, make it good for you.”
His hips undulated in a sensual rhythm, the subtle grind of his pelvis against your buttocks sparking pleasant friction.
With a final, brutal thrust, Sol buried himself to the hilt, his cock pulsing as he released a torrent of hot semen deep inside you. Your body clenched around him, milking his shaft for every last drop as you both trembled on the brink of ecstasy.
Sol pulled out of you with a wet squelch, his spent cock glistening with your combined fluids. He turned you over, his hands roaming your curves possessively as he positioned himself between your thighs once more.
“Again,” he growled, his eyes blazing with unquenchable hunger. “I won’t stop until you’re screaming my name and begging for mercy.”
With that, he plunged back into your waiting heat, his renewed erection stretching you open once more. Your legs wrapped around his waist, ankles locking at the small of his back as you met his thrusts with equal fervor.
“Ahhh, yes!” you cried out, your nails digging into Sol’s shoulders as he pounded into you with unrelenting ferocity. “Harder, Sol, please!”
A high-pitched keen tore from your throat as Sol’s precise aim sent shockwaves of pleasure radiating through your entire being. Your inner walls fluttered and clenched around his pistoning cock, trying desperately to draw him in deeper.
Sol’s response was to redouble his efforts, fucking you with a wild abandon that bordered on feral. The sound of skin slapping against skin and your wanton moans created a filthy cacophony that only served to spur him on.
With a final, earth-shattering thrust, Sol buried himself to the hilt, his cock throbbing violently as he emptied himself inside you once more.
With a playful smirk, you reached up to toy with the delicate silver studs piercing Sol’s nipples. Your fingers danced across the metal, tracing the ridges and points, sending sparks of pleasure shooting straight to his already sensitive cock.
“Mmm, do you like that?” you purred, your breath hot against his chest as you leaned in close. “Feeling my touch on your pretty piercings?”
Sol let out a low groan, his hips bucking involuntarily as your teasing fingers sent jolts of electricity coursing through his body. “Pumpkin-,” he gasped, his voice thick with need. “Keep doing that and I might just come again.”
Sol’s eyes rolled back, a guttural moan escaping his lips as you continued to torment his sensitive nipples with your clever fingers. The combination of your touch and the gentle tugging on the piercings proved to be his undoing.
“I can't…fuck, I’m gonna…” he warned, his words trailing off into a strangled cry as his orgasm hit him like a freight train.
His cock jerked and spasmed, painting your stomach with streaks of hot cum as wave after wave of intense pleasure washed over him. You watched, mesmerized, as Sol came undone in your arms, his body shaking with the force of his release.
When the aftershocks finally subsided, Sol collapsed against you, his chest heaving with ragged breaths. “That was…incredible,”
………After some time.
The aftermath of your shared intimacy left Sol visibly glowing, his cheeks tinted with a gentle pink hue that added to his already endearing expression. He nestled his face into the crook of your neck, sighing contentedly as his arms looped tightly around you. His touch was firm yet tender, a silent plea to stay close.
“You’re so good to me,” he murmured against your skin, his voice soft and dripping with affection.
You smiled, your fingers gently threading through his damp hair, brushing away any lingering strands clinging to his forehead. His vulnerability in moments like this was a stark contrast to the teasing and reserved Sol you’d come to adore. Here, he was open, raw, and so utterly lovable it made your chest ache.
“I love you like this, Sol,” you whispered, pressing a feather-light kiss to his temple. His arms tightened slightly around you in response, and you could feel his heart racing against yours.
Still wrapped in his warmth, you coaxed him to lay back, sitting beside him on the bed. “Let me take care of you,” you offered with a mischievous smile that made his blush deepen. He tried to glance away, but you caught his face gently, guiding his gaze back to yours.
“You always take such good care of me,” he murmured, his tone laced with shyness.
As you began tending to him, your touch was deliberate and soft, showing your affection with every small gesture. You wiped his face with a warm cloth, pressing soft kisses to his forehead and cheeks after each gentle stroke. His eyes fluttered shut, and he leaned into every touch, his lips parting slightly with a breathy sigh.
“You’re glowing,” you teased, earning a soft chuckle from him.
He opened his eyes slightly, still hazy with warmth and affection. “That’s because of you,” he replied earnestly, making your cheeks flush.
You shifted, positioning yourself to better reach him. He lay still, watching you with an almost reverent gaze as you kissed his shoulder, letting your lips linger to reassure him without words. You traced the outline of his arm with your fingers before pulling him closer.
“You’re perfect,” you said softly, meeting his gaze. The sincerity in your tone made his eyes widen before he hid his face in your chest, groaning softly.
“Stop saying things like that,” he mumbled, his voice muffled but undeniably affectionate.
“Why?” you teased, leaning down to kiss the top of his head. “Because you know it’s true?”
He groaned again, this time hiding his reddened ears. “Because you’re going to spoil me.”
“I already do,” you replied without missing a beat. “And I’m not stopping anytime soon.”
He let out a soft laugh, his body finally relaxing completely against yours. You took the opportunity to pull him back onto the bed, cradling him as you traced lazy patterns along his back. His breathing slowed, and for a moment, the world outside of your shared space didn’t matter.
Sol was practically glowing, his usual composed demeanor entirely replaced by something softer, something utterly endearing. A wide, boyish grin spread across his face as he buried himself into the crook of your neck, arms wrapped tightly around your waist like he couldn’t bear to let go. His warmth radiated against you, his breaths slow and content as he nuzzled closer.
“You’re so warm,” he murmured, his voice muffled against your skin. You could feel the slight curve of his smile pressing against you, making your chest tighten with affection.
“Look who’s talking,” you teased gently, running your fingers through his hair. It was soft to the touch, and he leaned into your hand like a cat seeking affection. “You’re practically burning up.”
“That’s your fault,” he shot back playfully, his cheeks darkening despite the confident tone. He shifted to look up at you, his glowing smile giving way to something more bashful as his gaze flickered between your eyes and lips. “You make me like this.”
You couldn’t help but smile, your hand cupping his cheek as you pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Good,” you whispered against his skin, savoring the way he shivered at your words. “I like you like this.”
The comment made his ears flush bright red, and he hid his face in your neck again, letting out a muffled groan. “You’re unfair,” he mumbled, though you could feel his grin widening against your skin.
“Me? Unfair?” you replied, feigning innocence as you trailed your hands down his back in slow, soothing motions. “You’re the one clinging to me like this.”
“Because I don’t want to let go,” he admitted softly, his vulnerability catching you off guard. He tilted his head just enough to look at you, his half-lidded gaze brimming with affection. “I feel safe like this. With you.”
Your heart swelled, and you leaned down to press a soft kiss to his lips. It wasn’t hurried or passionate, but something slower, deeper—full of all the unspoken emotions you couldn’t put into words. When you pulled away, his grin was even wider, his expression utterly smitten.
“See?” you said softly, brushing your thumb against his cheek. “You’re glowing.”
“You keep saying that,” he murmured, but the way he hid his face against your chest again betrayed how much he loved hearing it.
You chuckled, cradling him as he melted further into your arms. “That’s because it’s true.” Your hands resumed their gentle path along his back, tracing small circles that made him sigh in pure contentment.
After a small bath, You had to pull Sol. He said he didn’t mind being covered..in whatever. You pushed him to the bathroom.
Sol was focused on the soup, carefully stirring the pot with a steady hand. The steam curled up around his face, his usual sharp features softened in the kitchen’s warm glow. You sat on the counter nearby, swinging your legs lightly as you watched him with a mischievous grin. He looked so domestic like this, a stark contrast to his usual composed self, and you couldn’t help but want to mess with him just a little.
Leaning forward, you reached out and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. His hand froze mid-stir, his body stiffening for a moment as his ears turned red. “W-What are you doing?” he mumbled, not looking at you but clearly flustered.
“Nothing,” you replied innocently, already leaning in again. This time, you aimed for his jaw, letting your lips linger just long enough to make him squirm.
“Y/N…” he said quietly, his voice shaky but lacking any real resistance. He finally turned his head slightly, his dark eyes meeting yours, wide and full of embarrassment. “I’m cooking.”
“I can see that,” you teased, your grin widening as you kissed the corner of his mouth. “But you’re also very kissable right now.”
He flinched again, his grip on the spoon tightening as he tried to keep his composure. “You’re not making this easy,” he muttered under his breath, though his lips twitched upward in a small, shy smile.
You chuckled, leaning back slightly to give him a moment of reprieve. “Need anything?” you asked, feigning nonchalance as you played with the hem of your shirt.
“Pepper,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. He still wasn’t looking at you directly, but the blush on his cheeks was impossible to miss.
“Pepper, huh?” you repeated with a smirk. Hopping off the counter, you made your way to the spice rack, grabbing the pepper and handing it to him with a flourish. “Anything else, Chef Sol?”
He sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly as he took the pepper from you. “You’re too much,” he said, but there was no malice in his tone. If anything, he sounded amused, even fond.
“Too much for you to handle?” you teased, leaning closer once more. This time, you kissed the shell of his ear, your breath warm against his skin. He shivered, his hand faltering as he almost dropped the pepper.
“Y/N…” he whispered, his voice somewhere between a warning and a plea. “I need to finish this.”
“Fine, fine,” you said, stepping back with a dramatic sigh. “I’ll behave. For now.”
The kitchen was filled with the comforting scent of the soup, the two of you sitting at the table, sipping from your bowls. The warmth of the meal matched the warmth between you both, and as you took a small spoonful, you couldn’t help but smile at the taste.
“This is really good,” you said, eyes bright as you looked over at Sol. He glanced up at you, a soft smile on his lips, but he seemed to be lost in his own thoughts, gazing at you more than the food.
His face was still flushed, his dark eyes following your every movement. He looked so content in the moment, so at peace, and it made your heart flutter.
“You’re smiling,” you said playfully, raising an eyebrow. “I think you’re happy about my approval.”
He shifted his gaze slightly, his cheeks still rosy as he lowered his spoon. “I’m happy you like it,” he said softly, his voice just barely above a whisper. “I wanted to make it perfect for you.”
You couldn’t help but beam at him, warmth spreading through your chest. “You always go out of your way for me,” you teased, “I think that’s pretty cute.”
The words tumbled out of your mouth before you even had a chance to stop them, but they felt right. You leaned in, setting your bowl down as you placed a hand over his on the table. “You know, we should just get married,” you said with a playful smirk, tilting your head slightly. “We should just be together forever. Don’t you think?”
Sol froze for a moment, his eyes going wide, before his gaze flicked away. His cheeks flushed an even deeper shade of pink, and you could see his fingers twitch slightly where they rested on the table. “What… what?” he stammered, clearly flustered but not outright rejecting the idea. “W-We don’t have to—”
“No, no!” You laughed, teasing him further. “I was just joking. But, wouldn’t it be fun?” You winked, nudging him playfully with your shoulder. “I can already imagine us together forever, making soup for each other, and you cooking for me every night.”
His face was so red now, his expression a mix of surprise, embarrassment, and something else—something deeper that he wasn’t quite ready to admit. “I… I didn’t mean to… I wasn’t…” His words stumbled over themselves, and you could tell he was too flustered to finish his sentence.
But, seeing him like that made you feel a warmth deep in your heart. You couldn’t help but smile more, your eyes softening as you looked at him. “You’re so cute,” you said gently, your voice full of affection. “You know that, right?”
Sol finally looked up at you, a nervous laugh escaping his lips as he tried to compose himself. “I’m not cute,” he muttered, still trying to look away, but his smile betrayed him.
“Yes, you are,” you replied, leaning in just a little closer, your voice soft and loving. “You’re ridiculously cute, Sol.”
His breath caught for a moment, his cheeks still burning with embarrassment as he finally managed to meet your gaze. “You’re the one who’s… making me feel like this,” he mumbled, shaking his head in a failed attempt to hide his smile. “I’m not used to this…”
You let out a soft laugh, feeling your heart swell with affection for him. “It’s okay,” you whispered, your voice low and soothing. “I think you’re perfect just the way you are.”
Sol’s blush didn’t fade, but there was a small, shy grin tugging at his lips as he looked at you. “You’re making me all mushy,” he admitted, his voice a little more tender than before.
A rush of warmth spread through your chest at his words, and you couldn’t stop the smile that broke out across your face. “I think I’m already there,” you whispered back, your heart racing as you reached over to hold his hand, feeling the softness of his skin under yours.
You thought teasing him, pushing him just a little further, might reveal that obsession lurking beneath Sol’s shy demeanor. Maybe you’d catch a glimpse of his desperation, his possessiveness—the part of him that craved you so deeply it bordered on uncontainable. Instead, what you saw was a smile.
Not just any smile. It was as bright as the sun, as if the entire weight of the world had lifted off his shoulders. His eyes shimmered, brimming with emotion, and before you could even process it, he was crying.
“You’re…” his voice cracked, trembling with overwhelming sincerity. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
His words hit you like a bolt of lightning. For a moment, your heart froze, and your yandere-like thoughts—the need to possess him, to keep him yours and only yours—shattered into something else entirely. Something soft. Something pure.
Your lips parted, but no words came out. Instead, tears welled up in your eyes, spilling over faster than you could stop them. A choked sob escaped your throat as you lunged forward, wrapping your arms tightly around him.
“Sol…” you whimpered, burying your face into his chest as you began to cry in earnest. The tears wouldn’t stop. You were overwhelmed—by his words, his vulnerability, his love. All of it crashed into you at once, leaving you raw and open in a way you hadn’t expected.
“Hey, hey,” Sol stammered, startled by your reaction. He wrapped his arms around you instinctively, holding you close as his own tears quietly slipped down his cheeks. “What’s wrong? Why are you crying?” His voice was soft, full of concern, and he rubbed small circles on your back as you clung to him.
You couldn’t answer right away, too caught up in the storm of emotions swirling inside you. All you could do was clutch him tighter, sobbing into his shirt as he held you like you were the most precious thing in the world.
Finally, you managed to speak, your voice muffled and shaky. “I… I don’t know. I just… I’m so happy, Sol. I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve you.”
“Don’t say that,” he whispered, his voice firm but tender. He pulled back just enough to tilt your face up to meet his gaze, his thumbs gently wiping away your tears. His eyes were red-rimmed, but they shone with a love so pure it took your breath away. “You deserve everything, everything, and more. Don’t you dare think otherwise.”
His words made you cry harder, and he only hugged you tighter, resting his chin on top of your head as you both stayed there, locked in each other’s embrace. You could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your cheek, grounding you, soothing you.
“I love you,” you finally whispered, the words slipping out between quiet sobs. “I love you so much it hurts.”
“I love you too,” he murmured, his voice filled with so much raw emotion that it sent a shiver down your spine. “More than anything. You’re my everything.”
The two of you stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, holding each other as your tears slowly dried….
It’s up to you to think if you want to love him.
I hope you know “Me”- me?
#sol x reader#solivan brugmansia#the kid at the back sol#the kid at the back sol x reader#the kid at the back vn#tkatb#tkatb sol#tkatb vn#tkatb x reader#tkatb smut#tkatb sol x reader#the kid at the back smut#tkatb sol smut
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Stay, stay, stay | Evan "Buck" Buckley
Summary: When Buck gets assigned to get up the ladder and put a fire out during a rain and thunderstorm, he gets struck by lightning. He’s walking around in a coma dream and has to find his way out of it to get back to his fiancée (Y/n).
Request: @shauna-carsley
<<< 9-1-1 Masterlist
• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •
(Y/n) swung the towel over her shoulder as she turned around and made her way to the shelf to get some herbs.
Buck, on the other hand, placed his foot into the last step of the staircase as he scanned the environment. When he saw his fiancée cooking in the open kitchen, he smiled and made his way over.
“So.. did I hear you right earlier or are you actually about to serve the team your so-called ‘experimental pasta bake of doom’ for dinner?” he asked as his smile morphed into a playful grin on his face.
He leaned against the kitchen counter and crossed his arms as he waited for her to answer. (Y/n) chuckled and threw him a side-eye as she stood on her toes to reach the herbs she needed. When she caught the herbs she closed the cabinet and turned back around to the stove.
“First of all, it’s not the ‘pasta bake of doom.’ It's just pasta with a little creative touch. Second, aren’t you supposed to be cleaning the truck or something instead of bugging the chef?” she said as she shook the little container to add it to the pot.
Buck shrugged his shoulders as he moved to the kitchen island where the stove was, and (Y/n) was working on her dish. “I finished, so now I’m on ‘supervision duty.” He answered her question. “You know, just making sure you don’t set the firehouse on fire. Again” he continued as he placed his right hand on the counter and tried to get her to look at him.
She grabbed the wooden spoon that was in the pot and started to stir. “That was one time! And it wasn’t even my fault- the oven malfunctioned.” She told him as she felt the eyes burning into her skin even more.
But before Buck could even come back with an answer, Chimney passed by with a smirk on his face. “Pretty sure it was malfunctioning because someone put too much cheese on their lasagna.” He said as he kept on moving.
Buck his eyes grew wide at the reaction, he pointed his finger out at Chimney. “See? It’s not just me who remembers.” Buck said as he turned back towards (Y/n).
(Y/n) stopped stirring as she gave Chimney a look that said really? She glared at both of them. “You two better shut up or I’ll accidentally forget to make enough for either of you.”
In the distance a small laugh came from the dining table where Eddie was sitting, his phone was in his hand but his eyes were locked on the conversation between the two. “Really brave, Buck. You keep poking at the person in charge of our food today. Bold strategy.” Eddie chimed in.
(Y/n) let out a small sigh as Buck didn’t drop the conversation, she tapped the remaining sauce off the spoon, back into the pot. Maybe she wasn’t the best chef, and maybe she did almost burn this place down. But at least she was trying? That must’ve meant something, right?
Buck didn’t even bother to react to Eddie’s comment as the grin on his face grew wider. “I’m just saying, if this pasta bake ends up being a total disaster, the entire firehouse is going to blame me for not stopping it.”
She tapped the spoon one last time on the brim of the pot as she pointed the wooden spoon at him. “You should be blamed- for being annoying, not helpful.” she said as she let the spoon move in between them, almost letting it look like a threat.
A small grin appeared on her face as she locked eyes with Buck, he was just teasing her. They both went silent for a moment as they just looked at each other. Until a voice interrupted the moment. “What’s going on here?”
Bobby walked in with a clipboard in his hands and one eyebrow raised at the sudden silence. “Nothing, Buck was just on his way to leave the kitchen. He’s officially banned from the kitchen, he’s already on his fifth snarky comment and dinner isn’t even ready yet.” she said as she stood across Buck, switching looks between Bobby and her soon to be husband.
Buck glanced over his shoulder as he held up his hand in defense. “I’m just saying what we’re all thinking! Someone’s got to make sure this meal doesn’t turn into a second alarm.” he said as he looked at Bobby.
And then a familiar sound roared through the entire firehouse, but it wasn't the fire alarm Buck was talking about.
“Engine 118, truck 118, ambulance 118, structure fire, MacArthur Park Apartments“ The alarm sounded through the house.
“Okay, one eighteen let’s go!” Bobby said as all the people on the loft dropped what they were doing and stood up to make their way towards the rigs.
Everyone except for (Y/n).
She was actually on light duty because during her morning run a few days ago, she twisted her ankle.
She didn’t even know how it happened. It just.. happened. She tried to walk it off, but when she returned home and Buck saw her stumbling while entering the house, he sighed. She always had been kind of clumsy.
Anyways, walking was still difficult, she could walk but every step hurted. And since it would only slow down the team more than actually help, Bobby had decided that it was best for her and the team to put her on light duty.
So here she was, trying to make dinner. While the alarm zoomed through the house. (Y/n) watched her friends and colleagues leave the loft, making their way towards the rigs as Buck took another second to look at his fiancée. Buck scanned the scene, he knew no one was waiting for the two of them to be close.. especially on shift.
But no one except the two of them were on the loft right now. “See you in a bit” Buck said as (Y/n) had already continued to stir the sauce, facing the stove. He pressed his warm lips quickly against her cheek. “Be careful” she told him as he was already making his way towards the stairs. “Oh and don’t do anything stupid!” she added, sounding a little louder now.
Buck turned around as he continued walking backwards, that same grin as before was written all over his face. “Have you met me?” he said, his grin turning into a small smile as he sent her a fast wink and turned back around speeding down the stairs.
She didn’t know how long this call was going to take. It was a structure fire, it could take an hour, or it could take four hours, or even six. She decided to just try and finish the dish, so she could reheat it when her team came back from the call.
-
Buck watched the rain splatter against the windows of the rig as they were making their way towards the structure fire. It was silence on the rig, as everyone was trying to get into focus. The only thing sounding through their headphones was the thunder roaring over Los Angeles.
The truck pulled to a stop, not even a second later Buck and the rest of the team were stepping out of the rigs. Buck stepped out of the vehicle, feeling the puddle with water splash against his boots.
“Okay, Hendrix, Meyers, Perez!” Bobby’s voice sounded over the scene, trying to be louder than the rain that was coming down like the gods were mad. The team followed Bobby as he started shouting orders to specific people. “Start evacuating the building!” he continued as he pointed to the building that was on fire with his hand.
“Chimney, Buck, Eddie.” Bobby pointed at the right people, “You guys are on ladder duty.” He added as the three of them nodded at his words. “I want you to get up to that window and hit it. Let’s go!” the captain continued as he pointed his index finger to the right window. “Copy that cap!”
Not even three minutes later, Eddie was already turning and extending the aerial to the assigned window. With a ladder belt secured around his waist, Buck made his way back to the top of the truck where Chimney was waiting to go up the ladder. The tip of the hose set was hanging over his shoulder as he watched Eddie extend the aerial.
“Hey. Where do you think you’re going? I got this.” Chimney said as he saw Buck climbing on top of the truck with the ladder belt secured around his waist. “No way, you got the last one.” Buck answered as a soft grunt fell from his mouth and made his way to the start of the ladder.
Chim squinted his eyes at the rain that was pouring and hitting his face. “Didn’t realize you were keeping track,” he said. Making Buck grin “Come on, Chim, it’s me. I’m always keeping track.” Buck said with enthusiasm in his voice.
These were the things he loved doing on the job.
Eddie grinned at the conversation, grabbing the hook and securing Buck to the line, so if something went wrong he wouldn’t fall to his death.
“Alright, cowboy, go get ‘em.” Eddie said, as Buck accepted the line Chimney was holding out to him. “Alright” he said, as he carefully made his way up the aerial.
In his left hand he held the hose line and he used his right hand to climb up the ladder. The mix of people’s voices and sirens were filling his eardrums as he finally reached the top of the ladder.
With his heart beating in his chest, he turned the hose line on and started to aim for the window Bobby had mentioned earlier.
Where Buck could hear voices from below the ladder earlier, that sound faded away as some electrical buzz took over the scene. It almost sounded like an electricity pole was damaged, but it didn’t come from below him. Whatever he was hearing was from above.
“The hell is that?” he asked himself. Buck looked above him, fully facing the rain that was still pouring down. But he couldn’t find a source, so he just continued doing his job. It didn’t take five seconds, or there was a flash of white covering Buck’s entire vision.
The lightning hit his body. And he felt it, everywhere.
Bobby’s eyes were locked onto the person who was on top of that ladder. But his heart dropped the second he saw what was happening right in front of his eyes. He could hear a loud scream and then Buck’s body tumbled over the edge of the ladder, his body now hanging on to the line that was secured to the ladder belt he was wearing.
Eddie fell onto the ground after the bolt had struck just near him. He grunted at the pain in his back when it had met the ground. He rolled to his side, as he got onto his knees and hands to reach for his helmet that had prevented him from hitting his head on the asphalt.
He pressed one hand onto the ground as he pushed himself off the ground and back onto two legs. He pressed his helmet back onto his head as was on his way to climb back onto the truck, not really knowing what had happened. But the moment he was climbing the ladder to get on top of the truck, towards the control panel of the aerial, he looked to his right.
His best friend was floating in the air, lifeless.
His eyes widened at the sight, “Buck!” he screamed out. Without thinking, Eddie hurried up the ladder. The steps were wet, making him almost slip now and then, but he didn’t care. He needed to help his teammate, his colleague.
“Mayday, mayday, mayday, this is Captain Nash, 118. We have a firefighter down at the MacArthur Park Apartment fire. Need additional task force and rescue immediately.” Bobby’s voice sounded over the radio as Eddie called out for his best friend, hoping for some kind of reaction.
It was horrible, seeing him hanging like that.
In the meanwhile when Eddie had finally reached the top of the ladder, he tried to pull him up. But pulling up someone who was unconscious was impossible. “Can you hear me? Buck!” he called out, but calling out his name was more for a cry for help than to get him to wake up. The water from the hose line was still spraying down, Eddie didn’t even bother to turn it off. He only had one goal, and that was trying to get Buck down to an ambulance.
If he couldn’t pull Buck up, they had to lower him down. Chimney had taken place down the ladder, ready to help. “We need more slack!” Eddie called out on the top of his lungs. “More slack coming up!” Chimney yelled back. Eddie groaned as he gently let the rope slide through his fingers, and watched Buck’s body being lowered down to the ground where Bobby was. He was commanding Hen to get the ambulance as close as possible. They couldn’t waste a second.
Buck’s body was almost down at the ground again. Bobby grabbed his feet and turned him so he could be laid down onto the gurney easily. “Come here kid” Bobby’s voice was filled with worry. He put his arm on his back, “I got him, I got him!” he said. He wasn’t sure if he was telling the team, or if he was soothing himself with those words.
“Okay bring that gurney over here, let’s go!” Bobby commanded his paramedics.
“I need the lifepak!” Chimney shouted through Bobby’s orders to hurry up. They needed to do something, he was up there for way too long. The entire team was helping Buck onto the gurney which was being flooded with water the second it came out of the ambulance.
“Let’s get the lifepak on!” Chimney continued as they disconnected Buck from the line he was still attached to. Hen gently took off Buck’s helmet, as they opened his turnout coat. and cut through his uniform to get to his chest. “No pulse.” Hen said as she held her fingers to his neck to check his pulse.While, the worry in her voice almost turned into panic mode.
“Get that lifepak ready!” Chimney now shouted. But the second he got handed the lifepak, Hen spoke up. “It doesn’t make sense to shock him. He’s in full cardiac arrest!” she said as she looked over at her partner, and towards Buck’s bare chest thinking of what to do.
“I’m starting compressions, get that lifepak off!” Hen’s partner now said, as he climbed on top of the gurney, pressing his hands deep into Buck’s chest. “Come on Buck! Come on!” Chimney’s voice said as he tried to get his brother-in-law’s heart beating again. “Come on man! You can’t leave (Y/n)!” he continued shouting, hoping those words would get him back to reality.
“Alright Chim! Chim, we've got to move!” Bobby ordered Chimney, but he was so determined to get him back, words around him weren’t coming through. It wasn’t until Hen gave him a small push, that he realized he needed to get off the gurney.
“Dispatch, this is Captain 118. We have a firefighter down, struck by lightning, unresponsive, three minutes out.”
______
(Y/n) arrived through the emergency entrance of the hospital. Desperately looking for someone she knew, and could tell her what the hell had happened on that call. Her hair was soaking wet, she didn’t even bother to grab a jacket when she ran outside towards her car. She didn’t care if she’d catch a cold. That was the least of her worries at the moment.
“Wha..- What the hell happened?” (Y/n) gasped as she stumbled into the waiting room. Finding a small part of her crew. Oh god, the moment she stepped through those doors it almost made her puke. They had been through too much already. But walking through those doors made her heart pound in her chest, like she had run a marathon for miles.
She hadn’t cried at all, but walking through those doors made it seem more real to her.
She saw Hen and Eddie turning around, Hen’s eyes were still watering and Eddie’s were red like he hadn’t slept in days. But it wasn’t the exhaustion that made his eyes that red. The second she locked eyes with Hen, (Y/n)’s eyes were still wide open in shock. Tears were stinging in her eyes as the two of them walked towards her.
“(Y/n)...” Hen sighed, as she stood across from her with Eddie on her left side. “No…” she said as she looked at Hen. Trying to suppress the cry and the tears that were crawling up. Eddie pressed his hand to her upper arm, trying to comfort her. While she took a deep, shaky breath, trying to comfort herself too.
But the feeling in her chest started to feel tighter within the second. Her breaths were shallow and inconsistent as panic clawed its way through her. Her vision became blurry and she grabbed the fabric of her shirt, pressing the small piece of fabric between her hands to try and get herself back.
Her world began to spin faster and the sound of her heart was pounding like a drum in her ears. Tears were beginning to slowly stream down her face when Hen started to explain what had happened on scene. But none of the words she told her we're coming through. Everything she said was inaudible.
“Hey, hey, (Y/n), look at me,” Hen’s calm yet commanding voice cut through the haze, pulling her attention. Her eyes were locked onto Hen now, “Breathe with me, okay?” her voice said.
(Y/n) shook her head, as more tears streamed down her face. “I... I can’t... I can’t breathe.”
“Yes, you can. I’m right here with you. We are right here with you.” Hen said softly, as she looked at Eddie and back at (Y/n), gently placing her hands on (Y/n)’s shoulders. “In through your nose for four, out through your mouth for four. Let’s do it together. Ready?”
Hen took a breath in, holding up four fingers as she inhaled. (Y/n) struggled but copied her action, shaky and uneven. Hen’s fingers slowly counted down from four to one, guiding her through it again.
“That’s it. You’re doing great. Just one breath at a time.” She coached her.
Slowly, (Y/n)’s breathing began to steady, the panic loosening its grip. Hen kept her focus on (Y/n) “There you go. See? You’ve got this,” Hen said with a reassuring smile, squeezing (Y/n)’s shoulder.
Tears rolled down (Y/n)’s cheeks, but she nodded, a small sense of control returning. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice raw. “Always,” Hen replied, as she guided her to take a seat in one of the hospital waiting room chairs. Eddie and Hen both took a seat beside her, trying to comfort her as they waited for some news.
“He’s going to be okay” Hen said, placing her hand onto her shoulder as she gave it a soft, gentle, squeeze.
• Buck’s coma dream
“People have been dropping off food all day.” Margaret said as she proudly looked around the apartment of Buck. Pointing at the flowers and the cards he had received over the days he had been in the hospital.
“And oh, your kids.. ” Wait, did he hear that right? Was he a father? Did he have kids with (Y/n) in whatever this was? His eyes grew wide, filled with hope as she said those words. He cleared his throat, “I- Um..- Kids?” he stumbled.
Margaret smiled and nodded at his short question, “yes, your students.” she answered with a duh tone in her voice. Like he had to know what she was talking about. But when the word “kids” fell off his mother’s lips, all he could think about was: where was his fiancée?
His eyebrows furrowed at her latest words, students? What was she talking about? He was a firefighter, right? What students was she talking about? “What?” he asked his mother with a confused look all over his face. But when his mother wanted to answer his question, he threw another question at her.
“Wait.. Where’s (Y/n)?” he then asked. Looking around the apartment for any clues. What kind of future, dream, universe was he in? He had so many questions floating through his mind right now.
His mother was looking at him in confusion, “What are you talking about? Who is (Y/n)?” Margaret asked as she followed her son’s eyes, desperately searching the cabinets and shelves that were in the apartment from a distance.
“My girl, my fiancée? Where is she?” Buck asked. Why didn’t anyone recognize her name? They knew about her, and how much he loved her. Why wasn’t anyone telling him where she was. Were they playing some kind of weird mind game with him?
“How hard did you hit your head when you made that fall?” Phillip chimed in then. A feeling of annoyance slowly entered his body. “What? I-” he stumbled, but before he could even think of a proper something to say, his dad turned to Daniel.
“Are you sure he’s okay?” Phillip asked his eldest, with a drink in his hand. Daniel sighed as he opened the fridge and grabbed a beer out of it as he read the label. “Yeah, why do you keep doubting me?” Daniel answered as he closed the fridge then again. “It’s not like I'm a doctor or anything.” He continued, with his eyes still burned onto the label of the beer and he made his way towards the living room part of the apartment.
As Daniel and Phillip walk towards the couch, Buck’s eyes were locked onto the two of them. But then his attention was caught by something else. A sparkly, golden, 3D model of a ferris wheel was on one of the cabinets in his apartment.
Determined, he walked towards the cabinet, standing in front of the ferris wheel as he let his fingers trace over the model. “What’s this?” he asked his mother who was following his steps.
“No Idea. It doesn’t go with anything else I picked out.” Margaret answered his question.
Only the thought of a ferris wheel made his mind go back to one of the worst days of Buck’s life. His fingers traced over the golden ferris wheel parts, as his eyes were locked onto the piece of decoration.
The room around him seems to fade away. The sound of the television in the living room playing, and his family members communicating, it all dissolved into the deafening roar of rushing water.
He was back on the pier.
The sky was clear and blue, the sun’s reflection was shimmering off the ocean’s surface. Within the snap of a finger, the water retreated, a silent inhale before it’d drown Los Angeles.
Buck lifted Christopher over his shoulder as he grabbed (Y/n)’s hand who was still staring at what ever the fuck was happening with the ocean. “(Y/n)! Come on!” he yelled as he roughly pulled her with him towards land again.
He sees (Y/n). Terror in her eyes. Her hand slipping from Buck’s grip as the wave rips them apart.
“(Y/n)!” Buck gasps, his breath hitching. (Y/n) was fighting the water to keep her head up and above the water, but the waves were too strong. He can still feel the water closing in, pulling him under, tossing him through the wreckage. His lungs burn. His muscles scream. (Y/n)’s horrifying scream went through his marrow and bones again, like it did every time he thought back of that day.
The memories crash into him like the waves did that day.
“But if you like it, I love it.” His mom touching his shoulder and upper arm yanks him back to the conversation he was having with his mom. His chest heaves as he blinks, the 3D model of a ferris wheel coming back into focus. The sound of water is gone. The scream of (Y/n) still sounding faded in the back of his head.
• Reality
(Y/n) walked those awful grey and white hospital hallways. She kept her head low, looking down at the ground as she didn’t know what to do with herself. (Y/n) didn’t know how to feel, there were so many emotions rushing through her body.
She took another turn to the left, Chimney and Bobby came into her view. They were standing in front of one of the windows, looking into the room Buck was being placed in.
“Hey.” she said, her tone worried. “What do we know?” she asked the two men in front of her who were slowly turning towards (Y/n) now.
“Not much, He’s alive. In critical condition. They had to put him into a medically induced coma to allow his body to rest and recover. The next twenty four hours are going to be crucial.” Bobby said, surprisingly calm.
She didn’t want to even glance through the window. If she’d do that, things would be real. But it wasn’t a dream. If this was a dream, this would be the definition of a nightmare. But all the times she had pinched herself, wasn’t enough. She sighed as she finally found the courage to look through the window.
Slowly she let her eyes wander to the bed Buck was lying on. This would be one of the moments that’d hunt her forever, the picture would be burned into her brain. She squeezed her eyes closed and bit her lower lip. It was real.
She took another shaky breath, opening her eyes once more. Scanning the environment. “He’s on life support. Breathing with the help of a ventilator?” (Y/n) said, but it sounded more like a question.
“The lightning strike was literally a shock to his system. Sent him into cardiac arrest.” Bobby explained the situation as (Y/n)’s eyes were only locked onto her fiancée who was hooked up to all those different machines.
But Bobby’s explanation was interrupted by a soft sound of a ringtone. Bobby quickly fished his phone from his pocket as he read the caller-ID. “Oh- I’m sorry I have to take this..” he said, excusing himself as he walked away and pressed the phone to his ear.
Chim took place next to (Y/n) who was still looking through the window. Chimney didn’t say anything as he joined her looking through the window. He gave her some time to just look in peace. There was already so much information coming towards her.
“It’s so weird.. an hour ago he was up and jumping through the station with his jokes. And now, he’s in there.. hooked up to whatever machines to stay alive.”
Chimney swallowed, his jaw tightening. “Yeah.” His voice was hoarse, raw with disbelief. “One second he’s making fun of your cooking skills, the next he’s—” He gestured toward the room, as if that explained everything. As if it ever could.
Silence stretched between them, heavy and suffocating. (Y/n) bit her lip, her gaze tracing the pale face of the man lying in the hospital bed. He looked so still. So unlike Buck.
“He’s gonna wake up,” Chimney said suddenly, more to himself than anything. “He has to.” he added as he looked to his left, looking at (Y/n) who was trying to suppress her emotions.
(Y/n) didn’t answer right away. Their throat burned, emotions threatening to spill over. Finally, they nodded, forcing a small, fragile smile.
“Yeah,” she whispered. “He has to.”
And yet, as they stood there, watching Buck fight the battle they couldn’t help him with. All they could do was wait.
• Buck’s coma dream
After Buck had finally convinced coma dream Chimney that he actually knew him, he was hanging with him at the kitchen island. Chimney opened the fridge as he placed a bottle of beer right in front of him. “The last thing I remember is: we were at this apartment fire. It was raining. I went up the ladder and… there was a giant flash.” Buck was going over his thoughts once again. He pushes himself up and he opens the bottle of beer.
“Sounds like you were struck by lightning.” Chimney said, looking at Buck who was starting to pace through the room. “Yeah but, I don’t think I’m dead. It feels like some kind of coma dream.” Buck answered. But just as he turned around and started his first steps of pacing around the apartment..
His eyes fell onto the dining table of Chimney’s apartment. A miniature fire truck was lying on his side on the table. “What the…-” he stumbled, as the memories flashed before his eyes.
Within’ a blink of an eye he was lying on the ground. His hands pressed onto the asphalt beneath him as his left foot was in an odd angle.
His ears were ringing, his eyes were trying to adjust to what ever the hell just had happened. His vision was blurry, and changing from red to yellow-ish every second. Buck’s hand brushed over the asphalt as he tried to scan the scene he was in.
The glass windshield of the truck broke, and fell onto the ground. Sending an awful, horrible pain through his leg, making Buck grunt.
Everything hurt. His head. his legs. his back. Even breathing hurted.
Buck really didn’t really get whatever was happening. There was this boy, holding some kind of deadman trigger. He kept on wandering around, screaming something. But Buck’s ears were still ringing, so the voices sounded dull to him.
Suddenly, Bobby was there. His hands in the air, slowly making his way towards the young boy as Buck himself kept fighting to keep his eyes open, and push himself up. Buck couldn’t really register what was happening. He only knew his leg hurted, his head was pounding like it was going to explode any second now.
Then, Hen, Eddie and Chimney came rushing over towards him. “You’re still with us Buck?” Chimney asked, but he didn’t answer his question. Hen placed a medic bag next to him as they began to access him. “Buck, how are we doing?” she asked as she dug through the bag. “Kind of numb.” he answered with a trembling voice. But was the only thing that basically could come out of his mouth.
While Hen, Eddie and Chimney were diagnosing him and tried to give him first aid, he was only searching for her. “Buck!” (Y/n)’s voice, high and strained, cuts through the chaos. His head jerked up, searching for her, and there she was..
Held back by Bobby, his strong grip kept her from entering the scene, away from Buck. Her eyes were wide and in panic mode.
“Let me help!” she cries, trying to push past Bobby who was in civilian clothes, but he shakes his head. “No. They’ve got this. You need to stay back.” His tone is firm, leaving no room for argument, but she didn’t care.
“That’s my boyfriend!” she snaps, fighting against his hold. “I can’t just—just stand here!” she cried.
He wanted to tell her it’s okay, that he got this, but the truth was, he didn't. The pain in his leg was unbearable, and he didn’t know if he could keep it together much longer.
“Hang in there Buck” Hen’s voice cuts through the noise. Buck’s breath is coming too fast. The edges of my vision blur. The pain is worse than anything he had ever felt, like his leg is being ground into dust.
He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to focus on anything but the pain. Every firefighter on scene was coming together, getting ready to tilt this truck off his leg. But then his eyes snapped open. And suddenly (Y/n) is there, right in front of him. Bobby had let her go. Or maybe she fought him off, he didn’t know. All he knew was the fact that she was in front of him, holding his arms, ready to slide him from underneath if she could.
“I’m here,” she breathes, her voice shaking but determined. “Y-Y/N,” he managed, his voice was raw. She shook her head quickly, brushing damp hair from his forehead “Yeah, baby. I’m right here. Just hold on, okay?” she said softly, as she looked to the people who were ready to lift the truck.
The metal groans as the team works to lift the truck. A rush of hope rushed through his veins, only to be crushed under another wave of agony as the pressure on his leg shifts. A scream leaving Buck’s lips before he could stop himself. His entire body was trembling.
“I’ve got you, baby. I’ve got you.” she whispered softly, her thumb brushing over his arms as a attempt to soothe him.
He was looking at the miniature truck between his fingers. Chimney had been in a coma when that rebar went through his head years ago. Maybe he knew something about coma dreams. With those thoughts, he placed the miniature truck back onto the table and turned around.
“Okay so, when you were in your coma, what do you remember?” he asked, as he slowly walked back towards the kitchen island Chimney was leaning against. “Nothing” Chimney answered. This was so not helpful. “How long have you been walking around in this coma?” Chimney asked now.
He shrugged his shoulders, “Uh, I don’t know. Time is weird. Maybe two days?” he guessed. “Wait, you've been walking around in an alternative universe for two days and now you’re just now starting to ask questions?” Chimney asked as he pushed himself from leaning on the kitchen island and started walking towards Buck now.
“It was kinda nice at first, until I asked my family about (Y/n)...” he told Chimney. But if his family didn’t know (Y/n).. Maybe Chimney would, right? “Wait, you know her right?” Buck asked before Chimney could react to his words.
Chimney took a moment to think, repeating her name multiple times as he looked to the ceiling. “No, I don’t think I do..” he said, pressing his lips into a thin line and shaking his head.
The panic was rising in his chest, but maybe he needed a wake up call. “You know, always hanging around the firehouse, always laughing at my dumb jokes.” he tried to help him remember. But he shook his head again. “Buck, I swear, I have no idea who you’re talking about.” Chim said.
“You have to know her! She’s your colleague, friend, she’s my fiancée for god sake!” A mix of panic, stress and desperation filled his voice. “I’m sorry, but I’ve never heard that name before,” he said.
No. No, this wasn’t right. (Y/n) was real. He could still hear their voice, still feel their touch. Why didn’t anyone recognize that name?
Buck’s throat tightened. His chest heaved as he stared at his friend, searching his face for any sign that this was some twisted joke. But Chimney looked genuinely confused. His hands dug into his hair as the walls closed in. His lungs burned.
With his hands in his hair, he felt his heart pound in his chest, trying to break free. His ears started pounding as his airways closed off.
He pressed a flat hand on his chest, as he tried to take a breath. But his lungs weren’t working. “Wow, hey, hey, hey!” “Are you okay?” Chimney asked as he saw Buck was having trouble getting air.
Buck grabs his throat, as a sign that he couldn’t. Blood was rushing towards his head, making it red as he gasped for air. Buck’s eyes became blurry as he tried to keep his balance by holding on to the kitchen island. But he fell down to his knees. “Try to calm down! Try to breathe!”
• Reality
It has been two days since the accident. And to be honest, (Y/n) hasn’t left this room ever since. Only to use the restroom, get some food or drinks. But most of the time she didn’t have to, because if there was someone who came to visit Buck, they brought something for (Y/n).
The door was closed, but (Y/n) was sitting across from Buck in some kind of “lazy” hospital chair. She wouldn’t do anything except looking at him, keeping an eye on the machines he was hooked up on, and just watching him breathe. The constant beeping of the machines would sometimes make her fall asleep, like right now.
“Hey” Chimney said as he walked through the hallway, aiming for Maddie who was looking through the window. “Shouldn’t you be inside with your brother?” he continued. Maddie shook her head, Chimney stopped beside her and followed her eyes letting out a soft sigh.
(Y/n) was sleeping, her head leaning onto her hand that was placed onto the armrest of the chair. “How long has she been in there?” Maddie asked Chimney, since he got more updates from his crew. “She hasn't left.” Chimney answered her question. Tears were burning in Maddie’s eyes as she looked at the two in the room.
Maddie had given (Y/n) a new set of clothes on the day it happened. She had hoped (Y/n) would’ve gone home every now and then, but the girl was determined. She had to be there when he woke up.
The constant beeps switched, they became more and more within the second. (Y/n)’s eyes shot open, like she felt something was wrong. Her eyes shot from Buck’s body right towards the machines. In shock she watched the machines. The words “Lower limit warning” lit up in one of the screens in yellow letters. Her eyes rushed from the machine back to his body.
He was breathing like he was hyperventilating. She was alert the moment she read those words. (Y/n) pushed herself onto her feet, as she yanked the door open. “He can’t breathe!” she yelled as she was now in the grey empty hallways of the ICU.
Tears burned in her eyes as she watched nurses suddenly dropping everything and running towards her. Everything around her became a blur as she felt two people standing next to her. Maddie’s hand was pressed onto her shoulder, trying to give (Y/n) some kind of comfort as Chimney tried to get the nurses into the room. “Hey, hey, hey! We need someone in here!” Chimney called out and pushed the door more open.
The nurses were doing their job as (Y/n) stood in the door opening with Chimney and Maddie. Looking at whatever they were doing to help Buck. But (Y/n) couldn’t look at this. If he didn’t make it through, this wasn’t how she wanted to remember him. She turned on her heels, placing her hands on her head as she quickly blinked the tears away.
• Buck’s coma dream
“What’s wrong with him?” Hen asked, pointing at Buck as she looked back at Chimney.
Chimney held up his hands as he looked stressed at Buck who was still struggling with taking a single breath. “I don’t know, maybe he’s just having a panic attack.” Chimney guessed as he looked at his friend, hoping she’d know how to help him.
Hen’s eyebrows furrowed as she looked at the guy in front of her. Was he for real? “Hey buddy, can you hear me?” she asked. Only receiving a nod from the complete stranger. “Buck can’t breathe.” Chimney concluded, as he watched him.
But then, it was like the invisible hands that were tightening his airways close, let go all of the sudden. The choking had stopped, he could take a breath without any pain or difficulty. Buck let go of his chest and straightened his back, with a surprised look crossed over his face.
Chimney and Hen looked at him in confusion. “Or maybe he’s pulling our legs. He’s fine.” Hen said as she switched looks between the two guys. “Sorry, I- I don’t know what happened. It was like all of the sudden my lungs just stopped working.” Buck apologized.
"And now?” Hen asked as a second check. Buck stretched his arms, shaking his head as he felt nothing weird. “Uh, yeah, no.. I feel better.” he admitted.
That still confused frown was on Hen’s face visible as she faced Chimney. “And how did this happen?” she asked him. “He was asking about (Y/n), that’s what brought this all on.” he explained, as they both looked at Buck now.
It didn’t make sense to him. Why could no one in this silly coma dream tell him where (Y/n) was? This was his subconsciousness. He was in charge. Right? “How can it be that no one in this entire universe can’t tell me where my fiancée is?” Buck asked as he looked at both Chimney and Hen.
Chimney just made the same face as he did a minute ago. There was no change in that. “Wait, wait, wait, that name does sound familiar to me.” Hen then said as she was thinking.
There was a minute of silence, as a little spark of hope jumped in his chest. He gave her the space to think for a second. But after a moment, the back of Hen’s hand slapped against Chimney’s chest, hard.
“Isn’t she that nurse from First Presbyterian?” Hen asked Chimney. Both eyes were burned on Chimney now as he was thinking. “You know? The one who’s in charge of the ER?” Hen tried to help him remember. Chimney’s eyes grew wide. “You’re right.”
-
He barged through the doors of the hospital and immediately made his way towards the ER. He knew this hospital like the back of his hand.
“Excuse me? What are you doing?” A female voice asked him, as he pushed through the other set of swinging doors that made him enter the emergency room.
He entered the ER, his eyes desperately searching for his girl. The lady at the desk probably was too lazy or busy to follow him and make him leave the ER. Buck only had eyes for one person only. And that’s when he saw her.
She was smiling at one of her co-workers, that smile that made the rest of the world smile too. That smile that had him wrapped around her finger. She turned around and walked through the ER, leaving his line of sight. She was focused, busy, doing her job like nothing was wrong.
He called her name from a large distance as he watched her back walking away from him further and further. He called her name a second time as he made some speed to follow her. He called her name out even louder the third time. But she didn’t react, didn’t even glance his way.
Like she couldn’t hear him.
Frowning, he stepped closer, following her down the hallway. His pulse quickened. She wasn’t running, but she was moving fast, weaving between nurses and doctors, her attention elsewhere. But he knew a shortcut.
Still, after a few moments, she started to look over her shoulder, like she could feel him following behind her. Like some part of her knew she was being followed.
She glanced back for a third time, and that’s when Buck made his move. Before she could take another step, he grabbed her upper arm, pulling her sharply into the nearest medicine supply closet.
A squeak left her lips as the door shut behind them. “What the hell-?” she gasped. The lights flickered on, and he saw her. She was here. It wasn’t some kind of döppelganger. It was (Y/n).
He exhaled sharply, his grip loosening around her upper arm. But he looked at her for a second, and pulled her into a crushing hug. His arms locked around her like she might disappear if he let go.
(Y/n) froze in his embrace. “…Buck?” she said in a confused tone. But Buck shut his eyes, holding onto her tighter. “You’re okay, you’re here.” he whispered.
She hesitated before answering, her voice careful. “Of course, I’m here.” Buck loosened his arms around her body as he looked her in her eyes again. “What are you doing here? Why are you a nurse?” he asked, his voice filled with confusion
(Y/N) met his gaze, something unreadable in her expression. Then, with the faintest smirk, she said, “You tell me. This is your dream. I’m just living in it.” she explained to him.
His stomach dropped. “So… I’m dead,” he murmured as he let his eyes wander to the ground, his head ready to drown in his own thoughts. (Y/N) tilted her head slightly. “Close, but not quite.”
His breath caught in his throat. “Then where am I? What is this?” He looked around the supply closet like the walls could give him an answer. “Is this… some kind of waiting room? Heaven? Hell?”
(Y/N) sighed, folding her arms as she looked at the panicked face of the guy in front of her. “You need to relax.” she told him. “Relax?” He let out a short, humorless laugh. “I’ve been stuck here for days, I keep getting flashbacks to traumatizing moments of my life, apparently I’m almost dead. Forgive me if I’m having a hard time relaxing.” He started pacing down the small part of the supplies closet.
(Y/n) gave him a knowing look before turning away. “Come here.” she said as she walked over to one of the cabinets, opening both doors. Buck watched as she pushed aside bottles of medicine and supplies, revealing something that shouldn’t have been there.
There was a window.
His heart pounded as he stepped forward, through the glass he could see himself. He was lying in a hospital bed, intubated. Unmoving. Machines hooked up to him, beeping softly.
Bobby was there, his hand holding on tight to the rosary beads like it was his only lifeline. Also (Y/n) was there. The real her. Sitting at his bedside, her hands clasped together like she had been praying.
The air in Buck’s lungs vanished at the image in front of him.
In shock he watched the three people in the room. “What the hell is this?” Buck asked the (Y/n) who was standing beside him. He glanced to his right, waiting for her to answer. She met his eyes, blinking away the tears that were stinging in her eyes. “Well, Evan Buckley, that right there is reality, whatever is happening on this side is your deep dark subconscious.” she explained.
The way she said his name made his heart skip a beat. She never called him Evan, only when she wanted to mess with him, but she surely never used his full name.
Buck’s eyes wandered back to watch the scene in front of him. “Do you know what’s happening to me in there?” he asked. (Y/n) shrugged her shoulders, “Well, it depends on how you look at it. You could be dying or fighting for your life. But it’s kinda up to you.” she answered. Although that didn’t really answer his question.
At that moment, Bobby stood up from his seat. He walked towards (Y/n) and gave her a hug, as Buck’s parents and sister entered the room, following a doctor.
“W-what is happening?” Buck asks as panic was rising in his chest and voice. But (Y/n) didn’t answer as she just watched the scene in front of her. “What is happening!?” he asked again.
But as he looked to his right, (Y/n) was gone. And a döppelganger of himself in a doctor's jacket was standing right next to him. He looked him up and down in shock. “Looks like they’re pulling the plug, Evan.” he said. Before he could even answer for himself, the doctor “him” cut him off. “They don’t care about you. You’re not good enough, you never have been.” he said.
Buck looked at his döppelganger in shock, as he tried to figure things out. “This is all happening inside my head, which means I've been talking to myself the whole time.” He clarified to himself. “I don’t have to feel bad about not listening to you anymore.” He added as he shoved all the aside bottles of medicine and supplies off the shelves in front of the window.
The döppelganger watched him with a smirk on his face. “What are you doing?” he said, cocky. “I have to get back! I’m running out of time!” The panic was written all over his face as he yanked all bottles and other supplies off the shelves, and moved the shelves from the window. “It’s impossible, there’s no way back there. You’re stuck with me.” The döppelganger claimed.
“It’s not impossible! There’s not a locked room anywhere that, with the right tools and enough time, you can’t break into. I know that.” Buck told his subconsciousness. But he could hear a chuckle coming from the other him.
He walked determined to the side of the room as he took a fire axe out of the red box. “There’s nothing for you in that room. No one in there needs you.” Döppelganger Buck said then, with that same stupid grin on his face. But instead of looking him in the eye, he watched the scene, there’s enough hurt in that room. (Y/n) hasn’t stopped crying since he laid eyes on the window, Bobby was praying with his rosary beads, and if he did that, it must’ve been bad. He wasn’t the only one hurting.
“Keep telling that to yourself.” he said, and yanked the fire axe through the window.
______
The first thing Buck felt was warmth. A gentle pressure against his hand. Steady. Familiar. Then, muffled voices entered his ears. The rhythmic beeping of a heart monitor. The scent of antiseptic and something softer… vanilla? No… coconut.
It was (Y/n).
His eyelids felt heavy, but he forced them open. The hospital lights were too bright, but they weren’t what held his focus. It was her.
Curled up in the chair beside his bed, her head resting against their joined hands, fingers wrapped around his like she had been holding on for dear life. His throat felt like sandpaper, his voice hoarse. “(Y/n)…” he managed to get out.
She stirred instantly, her fingers twitching against his. Her eyes fluttered open, sleepy and dazed until her eyes landed on his. She froze. Her breath hitched.
“Buck?” Her voice cracked as she shot up, eyes wide with disbelief. A slow, tired smile tugged at Buck’s lips. “Hey.”
A strangled noise left her throat half a sob, half a laugh before she lunged forward, throwing herself into his arms. Her arms were wrapped around his neck, her body molding against his like she belonged there. He could feel her shaking, feel the way her breath hitched against his shoulder.
“Easy,” he croaked, though he had no complaints about being tackled with this much affection. (Y/n) pulled back to look at him, placing both her hands onto his cheeks, cupping his face. “You’re awake.” she whispered, tears spilling freely now.
Buck blinked up at her, brushing his thumb weakly against her hand. “Told you I’d see you in a bit.”
She let out a breathless, watery laugh, pressing her forehead to his. “You idiot,” she muttered. “You scared the shit out of me.” she said. His heart ached at the exhaustion on her face, the dark circles under her eyes, the tension still in her shoulders.
“How long have you been here?” he asked. She swallowed hard, running her fingers through his hair like she couldn’t believe he was real. “Since the moment you got here,” she admitted softly. “I never left. Except to use the restroom.” She cried. “And even then, I made Bobby stand guard.”
Buck’s chest ached, not from the coma, not from the accident but from the fact that she had stayed. She had never given up on him.
“Fiancée of the year,” he said, squeezing her hand weakly. (Y/N) let out a choked laugh, shaking her head as she placed a free hand onto his cheek again, rubbing her thumb against his skin. “Yeah, well, I kinda love you, so.”
His eyebrows shot up and his lips twitched. “Kinda?” She exhaled, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Shut up”
Her fingers brushed against his forehead gently, her thumb smoothing over his cheek. Her expression softened. “You shouldn’t be talking this much,” she told him. “You just woke up.” she continued.
“I have a lot to say.” He then said. “And you can say it later,” she said firmly, already reaching for the call button. “I need to get a nurse-” she groaned.
His hand shot up, slower than usual, and weaker than he liked but enough to stop her. Her breath caught as he intertwined their fingers again, holding her there. “Stay,” he whispered.
(Y/n) hesitated, her worry flickering between her brows. But one look at him and she melted. She squeezed his hand and leaned in, her lips brushing against his temple. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Buck sighed in relief, his eyes fluttering shut as exhaustion started creeping in. “Good,” he murmured sleepily. “Wanna marry you first.” he admitted. (Y/n) let out a breathless laugh, brushing her fingers through his hair again. “We will… when you’re out of the hospital.” she whispered. Buck sent her a small smile and as Buck drifted off again he knew, without a doubt, that he had made it back exactly where he belonged.
Home.
• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •
<<< 9-1-1 Masterlist
#911#911 fox#imagine#911 abc#911 imagine#buck imagine#buck x reader#evan buckley imagine#evan buckley x reader#evanbuckley
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Get away from me
DARK Yan! Batman × Reader
《Platonic!》
Note: English is not my first language, sorry if there is any translation error
The wind whipped the windows of your apartment that you thought could easily break them
It was another cloudy and rainy day in Gotham which wasn't unusual
Everything in this fucking city was strange and more so with the recent news that came out, apparently some kind of "hero" has been patrolling the streets of the city
But nobody was happy about that, the sound of the television was playing but you didn't even deign to listen, it was the same as always there was nothing interesting
The same news about batman or that's what the strange individual called himself, the authorities asked that they not leave their houses and they stayed inside
You thought that those measures were too extreme, it was just a man (possibly with mental problems) wanting to "save" a city that didn't even want to be saved
The apartment was dark, your mother wasn't there she had called you saying that she would stay a little longer until the rain stops being so strong and dangerous
She had asked you to close the doors and windows, apparently she She had also believed the news about Batman
You thought that people were making too much fuss about something so stupid, it was just a crazy man walking the streets of Gotham in a ridiculous bat costume
You let out a tired sigh and curled up on the couch, you were too tired to get up and go to your room to go to bed
Everything was quiet until you heard a loud noise, you quickly got up looking for where the noise was coming from, the noise was not coming from inside it was coming from outside...
You slowly approached the window and opened it, you looked down and there you saw it
You couldn't see very well what it was, it was a kind of strange shadow but it had a human shape, you thought it was some criminal passing by, your neighborhood was not the safest of all (although no neighborhood was safe unless you were rich)
"Hey, idiot!"
You spoke loudly so that thing could hear you, you could see how it turned towards your direction and you spoke again
"Whatever you're doing try not to make noise, there are people trying to sleep!... imbecile"
You said that last thing as a whisper, you looked at the strange shadow one last time and then closed your window
Sometimes you wished you could move out of this city, but unfortunately you had no other alternative
You decided to go to your room once and for all to go to bed, you were sure that your mother wouldn't come back until dawn and you weren't going to waste your hours of sleep, you had already slept badly enough this week
You went to your room and threw yourself on your bed as soon as you entered, the sound of the rain was a comforting noise in your room full of darkness
_
Your eyes slowly opened trying to find something to hold on to, you started to hear footsteps outside your room
You thought your mother had returned from work, you got up halfway to check the time on your phone
'2:30'
You barely managed to sleep for 2 hours, you were going to go back to sleep but you heard another noise again, this time it was something falling to the floor, maybe a glass or a plate
Curious you gently opened the bedroom door, the hallway was completely dark, you tried to turn on the light but the switch didn't work
Great
The light had gone out...
"Mom!"
You screamed into the hallway, no one answered which made you arch an eyebrow
Strange... you said in your head, you repeated the same thing again but there was no answer either
You gathered your courage, turned on the flashlight on your cell phone and a lamp as you put together
You knew it wasn't the best idea but you couldn't just sit there with your arms crossed, you weren't going to allow something to enter your home
Maybe it was just some rat, there were too many rats in this apartment maybe it was just that, or that's what you wanted your head to believe
You walked slowly through the dark hallways trying to illuminate with the flashlight as much as you could
You swallowed hard to turn around to go to the kitchen, you tried to illuminate as much as you could but you could barely see where you were walking
You felt that something was behind you, you quickly turned around with the lamp in hand to hit the intruder, but there was nothing, you illuminated the whole place but nothing
It seems your senses had failed you
As you went to walk backwards you felt your back hit something hard
Shit
There was no logical explanation for this, you were literally in the middle of the room, you weren't close to anything to lean on
Don't look back
Your breath caught in your throat, whatever was behind you was much stronger and bigger than you
You felt a heavy breath on your head, a cold, rinsed hand touched your arm
You felt so disgusting from that touch, your body was telling you to run, push him and scream but you couldn't
It's like your body was in some kind of shock, you were paralyzed and very scared
Somehow you managed to push the intruder and get out of his grip, you tried to run to the door but you felt something embedded in your feet
Glass
A loud scream came out of your body when you felt as the glass became more and more embedded in your feet, but that didn't matter you had to get out of here
You limped towards the door, the floor was covered in blood, if that thing didn't kill you you were going to bleed to death
But before you could open that fucking door you felt something grab you and throw you to the floor
You tried to get out of that thing's grip, you kicked and scratched but it seemed like nothing was working
And you saw his face
Batman
Your eyes filled with tears, you felt his gaze on you, like his eyes pierced your soul
With your last breath you tried to grab your phone that was lying on the floor
Please
Please
You could barely reach your phone you felt the man's hand grab your head and then
BAM!
He slammed your head into the wooden floor, that blow could have easily cracked your head
Your vision blurred and for a split second you could see a creepy smile on the man's face
He grabbed your unconscious body in his arms and then opened the door
Finally after so much time he was able to find you, it had been so long since he last saw you
But now
Now he had you all to himself, and you would never leave his side again
No matter how much you ran, hid or screamed
He would always find you
His dear daughter
You must not cry
He just wants you to know that he hurts you because he loves you
I didn't like the result of this so much
but I decided to upload it because I already had this shit in drafts, sooooo
#batman#yandere bruce wayne#yandere batman#bruce wayne x fem!reader#bruce wayne x reader#bruce wayne x daughter!reader#dark yandere#batman x reader#platonic#platonic yandere#platonic batman#fem!reader#fem reader#batsis reader#batsis!reader#yandere#yandere dc#dc comics#reader insert
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Lightning - @black-brothers-microfic - wc: 467 - Starchaser
James Potter stormed into the dormitory, soaked to the bone, dripping water onto the already questionably clean floor. His glasses were askew, his hair plastered to his forehead, and his expression was one of a man who had seen death and returned to tell the tale.
“I was almost murdered,” he announced, flinging his arms out as dramatically as possible.
Regulus, lounging on James’ bed with a book in hand, barely glanced up. “By whom? Because if it was Black magic, I can assure you, I had nothing to do with it.”
James gasped, affronted. “By nature itself! I was—” he paused for dramatic effect, “nearly struck by lightning!”
Regulus finally looked at him properly, assessing the drowned rat of a man standing before him. “And yet, here you are. Alive. Somehow still talking.”
“That’s not the point!” James huffed, struggling to peel off his soaked Gryffindor sweater. It made a squelching noise that was, quite frankly, revolting. “I was walking back from Quidditch practice—IN A HURRICANE, might I add—and this bolt of lightning came for me. It hit a tree, right next to me. I felt the heat, Reg!”
Regulus shut his book with a soft thud, the only sign of his increasing amusement. “James.”
“What?”
“You’re wearing metal, aren’t you?”
James hesitated, then sheepishly looked down at his own chest, where a shiny silver chain with his lucky Snitch pendant hung. “…Maybe.”
Regulus raised a single, unimpressed eyebrow. “Did it ever occur to you that strutting around in a storm, draped in conductive material, was a bad idea?”
James waved him off. “Okay, okay, in hindsight, yes. But at the time, I was just thinking, ‘Wow, look at this cool rain, what a vibe!’ and then—BAM!—Zeus himself tries to smite me.”
Regulus pinched the bridge of his nose. “You absolute buffoon.”
James pouted, finally managing to strip down to his undershirt. “I really thought you’d be more concerned. Your beloved boyfriend was nearly obliterated.”
Regulus rolled his eyes, but there was an unmistakable softness there, one James knew all too well. “Oh, please. If you were actually in danger, your over-inflated sense of self-preservation would have kicked in. You’d have tripped over your own feet trying to escape.”
James gasped again, clutching his chest. “You wound me.”
Regulus sighed, moving to grab a towel from James’ trunk before walking over. “Come here, you idiot.” He started towel-drying James’ hair with a level of care that was at complete odds with his earlier insults.
James beamed. “So you do love me.”
Regulus gave him a look. “Unfortunately.”
James took that as his cue to dramatically swoon into his boyfriend’s arms. “Save me from my stupidity, Regulus Black.”
Regulus sighed but wrapped his arms around James’ waist anyway. “Merlin help me, I try.”
#black brothers microfic#marauders#jegulus#starchaser#sunseeker#james potter#regulus black#microfic#god i love when james is dramatic
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Hiya!! How are you? And could you please write silco headcanons with a sick reader :3 also happy new year!!!
silco x sick reader hc
thank you for the new years wishes, i hope 2025 is going great for you!!
you needed to go shopping and silco told you to wear a jacket, it was cold and rainy after a all
you rolled your eyes and decided against it since you would only be out for a bit
now you’re tucked up in the bed you share with silco, the stern man frowning down at your shivering body
“y/n i specifically told you to wear a jacket, did i not?” he pinches the bridge of his nose as he stands over you, and you open your mouth to retort but a cough racks your weak body instead
his eyes manage to sharpen even more so than they did before before
you start to sniffle and he lets out a defeated sigh as he continues to take in your rather pathetic demeanour
silco gets one of his lackeys to make you a chicken broth, something easy to keep down but warming enough to combat your shivers and shakes
he’s constantly coming by from his office to check your temperature and place a new cool flannel on your forehead
he tries to act annoyed by this “inconvenience” but you both know that he’s worried sick about you no matter how hard you try to convince him that you’ll be right as rain in no time
he rubs salves on your chest and back to ease any congestion, maybe taking sliiiiightly longer than he needs to
if you complain of any aches or pains he’s right on it, softly massaging away any discomfort with such expertise you would think it was his job
silco buys you a warm, and expensive, coat that goes down to your ankles and makes sure to guilt trip you into wearing it next time you go outside
he sings
quietly, just as you’re drifting off to sleep, he sings hushed lullabies and old songs since he’s convinced you sleep better when he does
and that’s all he wants - for you to get better
definitely has singed come by with medicine specially made for you - silco doesn’t let anyone else but him administer it though
when he feeds you spoonfuls of medicine, he always strokes your damp baby hairs with such sincerity and gentleness it makes you tear up
of course he gets startled by this and panics that he hurt you somehow and immediately tries to fix what he did
you drag him in for a hug before he works his way into a pit of anxiety and kiss him for as long as you can before pulling away to cough yet again
silco blushes like CRAZY and you finally feel like you have the upper hand
that’s until silco is also sniffling in bed with you by the end of night, complaining that he “caught your disgusting germs” despite the sweet crinkle of his eyes as you both weakly chatter away
now it’s sevika’s turn to (begrudgingly) look after you guys but she can’t even be mad when she sees how cute you two are tightly tucked up in bed snoring away well into the afternoon <3
masterlist
#silco x reader#silco arcane#silco#silco fluff#arcane headcanon#arcane fluff#silco x reader headcanon#silco headcanons#sick fic#request#arcane request
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♱A Token of Blood and Gold♱
✠✠✠✠✠✠✠✠✠✠✠✠✠✠✠✠✠✠✠✠✠✠✠✠✠✠✠✠✠✠✠✠✠
English Professor!Vampire x Human fem!reader
It was another day of class. Rain hit the aged auditorium glass with soft thuds as you sit within your lecture. You were an English Masters student, studying Rhetoric in Religious Literature from the 18th century. You specified in work from the Middle East and the Mediterranean, with occasional interest in main land Europe.
Your professor, a man seemingly in his late 30’s, early 40’s, spoke about the history of Manama and its importance in conversation such as religion, philosophy, and self expression. Professor Farsi was his name, and god was he beautiful. His hair was black and slicked back, a streak of silver etched into the many strands. His eyes were strong, beautifully brown like the perfect cup of coffee in the chilled morning air, glistening with wisdom from his years. His strong jaw covered in a sharp bearded goatee, gray strands running through the black hairs. His skin was a beautiful shade of honey.
The lecture would typically interest you, especially considering professor Farsi was teaching it. He had been your professor since your undergrad years. You figured as you moved to your masters his classes would decrease. Oh how your were wrong. People from around the world came to hear his lectures. Something about this made you feel a slight tinge of jealousy. You knew he was a well reknoened academic. Anytime he looked your way it felt like you two were the only people in the world. He made you feel something no other person had. The way his eyes gazed over you, you could’ve sworn he felt it too.
“That’s all for today class. I’ll see you on Monday.”
Everyone stood up, chattering about their first lesson with the captivating professor. You gathered your things and head towards the exits of the building, only to remember it was still raining. A sigh escapes your lips as you realize you forgot your umbrella. As your body becomes soaked with heavy pellets of water you hear the sound of an umbrella opening. The feeling of rain drops disappear, replaced with the feeling of a hand on your lower back.
“Miss Y/N, did you forget your umbrella again?”
“Professor. You know me too well.”
You hum. The smell of leather, musk, and amber. His scent was as intoxicating as his voice. Confident yet soothing, he always had a way with words.
Of course my dear. You’re soaked, let me drive you home
You could deny his sultry voice, his hand pressing in on your back, guiding you to his car. His other hand, gripping the umbrella shielding you from the rain.
Instances like this confused you. He was always so kind and giving towards you yet never confessed any feelings nor engaging in physical gestures. Yet, since your junior year if undergraduate there was always something.
Approaching the staff parking lot, your jaw jobs at the sight of an expensive black car, one a professor salary could definitely not afford.
Cadillac SOLLEI, black exterior and interior, a gift from a friend.
He mutters and opens the passenger seat for you.
Looking up at his face he looked a bit tired, something about the way his eyes lingered on you a second longer than they should. You smile awkwardly. It almost felt like he was sizing you up. Maybe it was just your imagination.
The next moment he is in the car beside you. You jump noticing his presence, you hadn’t even heard him get into the car. He laughs at your lack of attention, his laugh making you knees weak. Good thing you were in the car.
Soon the car jumped to life and he began leaving campus.
What is your address Miss Y/N?
You’re about to respond but stop. Your brain starting to feel good, relaxed. The rain gets louder, a little too loud. With every drop it pulls you deeper into this feeling of bliss.
khanam Y/N sadaye man ra mi shnevid? nah? khob
You don’t even know what he’s saying. You just smile as him, a giggle escaping your lips.
Your sight begins to fade. Black slowly creeps in from all sides, an all-consuming void. The last thing you see is Professor Farsi flashing a grin at you, but something is off. He had long fangs poking out from his mouth. Then you fade to black.
Your eyes shot open in a panic. Sweat slicked your brow as you sat up in almost complete darkness. A flash of light from the window shocked you, and loud thunder soon followed. A storm was raging outside.
“Outside…”
You murmur as you suddenly realize you have no idea where you are. Anxiety begins to creep through you as you look around. None of this looked familiar. As your eyes adjust to the darkness, you feel your stomach drop. No. This was familiar, but not in the way it should be.
The room was decorated in a combination of 18th gothic Eurocentric interior and 18th-century ottoman interior. It was a spitting image of your dream room, a beautiful culmination of your studies and desires. You take in your surroundings more clearly. The bed you say on tested within a European bed frame carved from dark wood, intricate designs carved into its flesh. Beautiful, thin silk curtains rested on the sides of your bed, shielding you from air drafts and bugs. The room was adorned with religious and philosophical tapestries displaying stories from many religious texts you familiarized yourself with.
You slowly step onto the hardwood floor of the room, your legs and feet cold from the night air. Looking down at yourself, you gasp. You are not wearing the clothes you had on in class. In fact, you wore a night gown, your head adorned in a silk wrap to protect your hair from your restless slumber.
‘This is weird. Am I dreaming?’
You think to yourself as you walk around the dark room.
A candle and box, if matched, catch your eye as they rest upon the wardrobe in the corner. Quickly, you strike a match, the flame catching alight instantly. You lit the candle and promptly blew out the match.
Despite the weather outside and your better judgment, you decide to find a way out of where ever you were.
You jogged down the hallway to what you'd concluded to be a manor. The night sky adorned in thunderclouds slammed its assault of rain against the large glass panes that lined the walls of the hallway you traveled.
The need for escape coursed through your veins as you checked every door for an exit. Some were locked, and others led to dust-filled rooms, drawing rooms, and storage; it was all pointless.
As your legs carry you faster, your bare feet pattering against the cold marble, you see one room ahead. A soft, warm glow sealed from the edges. Something about it enticed you, drew you closer. Your jog became a walk, then a stillness. Reaching for the knob, you turn it slowly, carefully pushing the door open.
It was like something out of a book. A secluded personal library with a fireplace crackling as wood burnt to embers. Professor Farsi stood in front of the fireplace, holding a cup of amber liquid.
Y/N. I've been waiting for you sholeh ebdi man(1).
“Where am I?” You demanded, staying close to the door. Something was definitely off about the professor. You needed to stay close enough to the nearest exit in case things heated.
The door slammed shit behind you, a hush yet noticble locking noice could be heard.
You blood runs cold. How did he do that? What that even him.
Y/N, sholeh ebdi man, you need not fear me. I am merely making sure you do not run without hearing me out.
His back still faced you, the drink on his hand brought up to his lips.
“What do you want from me professor?”
The sound of him sucking his teeth and the shake of his head.
I do not want anything from you Y/N
He begins to turn. You blink, and suddenly, he's gone. You try to process where he went in less than a second. You feel a breath on your neck, causing you to jump and turn. He's standing right behind you, his stature tall and frame completely shadowing your own.
You are what I want. My deepest desire. My sun to my moon. My light in the darkest of hours.
His hand reaches upwards and caressed your cheek. You freeze in response. What is he talking about?
You are sholeh ebdi man, my eternal flame. At first I did not notice.
He began to pace around you, like he was stalking his prey. And honestly, you felt like a rabbit stuck in a foxes den.
It wasn't until I saw you today in class that I realized. You are the answer to my problems.
You could feel your heart racing as he steadily got closer.
My loneliness, my hunger, my desire. A mortal woman such as yourself woukd normally never peak my interest but…
His hands grabbed your hips and pulled you against him. Your back flushed to his chest. His rough and uneven breath hovered over your neck.
Your blood just smells so….divine!
The sound of his maw opening, something sharp snapping down onto skin, ripping through fkesh and muscle. Horror is etched into your face as a sharp pain erupts from the crook of your neck and shoulder. Large fangs dug into your flesh. His rough tongue lapped up your blood from the gushing wound. A scream rips from your throat as the man you admired feasts on your life source.
~fin-
sholeh ebdi man(1): my eternal flame
khanam Y/N sadaye man ra mi shnevid? nah? khob.(2): Miss Y/N Can you hear me? No? Good.
(A/N: Should I do a part 2)
#black writers#x black fem reader#monster x reader#x reader#x black reader#vampire x reader#dark academia#dark academic aesthetic#vampire oc#malevolentlover#persian#black writblr#original writing#x latina reader#x asian reader
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Feveruary Day 3
Prompt: Caught In the Rain
Sickie: Jungkook | Caretaker: Jin
Word Count: 722
“IT’S SNOWING!”
Jungkook grunts as he rolls over. He squints as he looks out his bedroom window. There’s absolutely no snow, only rain beating down harshly.
He glances at his alarm and curses. He doesn’t actually have to be awake to leave for work since it’s his day off. His only plan for the day was to sleep in, eat, and play video games. “Jin-hyung, you’re an asshole.”
The eldest laughs his windshield wiper laugh and skedaddles out of the room. Another moment later and he pokes his head back in.
“You’re on groceries today.” Jin reminds him. “And we need a lot, thanks to yours and Jimin’s cooking fiasco the other day … oh, and Hoseok’s party.”
That makes him snicker under his breath. Oh, that was so fun.
Anyways. He nods, rolling his eyes playfully. He really doesn’t mind doing the groceries, and if it keeps his hyungs happy, then he’s happy. He runs through a mental checklist of what they might need. Taehyung’s favorite chips, Jimin’s favorite juice, the slabs of meat that Jin and Yoongi prefer to cook with, the certain variety of apple that Hoseok is particular about, Namjoon’s favorite cereal …
When he finishes voicing this thought to Jin, the eldest nods. “That and whatever you want, since you're paying this time. Oh thank god, since last time I had to buy them, you added on like nine different packs of ramyeon!”
Jin is exaggerating obviously, because Jungkook knows he asked for eight varieties, not nine.
The eldest hands him a grocery list. Huh. There’s the paper Hoseok was looking for. There’s little things on there, like different fruits and vegetables and a whole section just dedicated to ice cream varieties and chips. Jin only writes down things outside of what they usually get. So it’s like a “get what we always get PLUS what is written on the list. Then, unlike the writing of the list, in green ink, one singular item is written in sparkly pink pen: sponge.
Easy stuff, really. He could just DoorDash it, but that would be admitting defeat.
So he shrugs on a hoodie and runs to his (Yoongi’s) beaten-down pickup truck. They’ve designated this as the grocery shopping vehicle, both because it’s a larger car than Jin’s or Jimin’s and also because Yoongi had hit so many potholes that the truck could literally only drive the distance of the grocery store and back. They only have to fill it with gas once a month basically, so it saves a lot of money. (That and Yoongi refuses to get a new car)
He still gets soaked trying to get into the truck and out and once he’s finished with the grocery shopping, (he has to run to like three different stores afterwards to find the sponge Jin wrote in his pink pen) it’s raining even harder.
Coupled with the fact that it’s the beginning of February, it’s not much of a surprise that he wakes up with a nasty cold the next morning.
“hHeh-tshuu!”
Jin shrieks from where he’s seated at the table and inches further from Jungkook. “You rat! Take your germs elsewhere!”
Jungkook sniffles and rubs his nose with a napkin he picks up from seemingly out of nowhere. (It’s actually Jin’s breakfast napkin and there’s a syrup stain that he finds the hard way. His face is now sticky with syrup but … at least it smells nice?)
He sneezes again and dear god, he needs an actual nose blow but the whole “I have syrup on my face” thing is actually quite traumatizing and maybe he could go for a wet wipe of sorts??
Apparently he’s staring into space because when he regains more awareness it’s to Jin poking him in the nose and he sneezes again.
He coughs this time, feeling more and more like his throat is going through a trash compactor.
Jin sighs, using a (clean) napkin to wipe the maknae’s face. “This is all because of the rain? I thought idiot’s didn’t catch colds..”
Jungkook coughs again, sniffling afterwards when he feels his nose start to run. “This was for your sponge.”
The eldest stops. “Oh, do I owe you or something? The sponge was like, a dollar right?”
Jungkook nods and Jin leaves
He never gets the dollar, only a cold.
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But hey, by the time they finished the puzzle, the rain had finally stopped! It still wasn't the nicest day, but it was dry enough for everyone to go outside, at least. I promptly set everyone to combing the beach for seashells to take home. Alice immediately found a scallop shell, but Victor and Smiler had absolutely no luck at all. I was having Victor wander around looking for new places to dig in the sand, trying to find him a nice souvenir --
When, all of a sudden, one Felipe Sisson was right in front of him! O.O You know, the guy that I had Victor resume his friendship with at the wedding? Apparently Felipe was so happy to renew the acquaintance that he got teleported in by the game to ask if Victor wanted to be best friends. Victor was startled, but said yes -- Felipe WAS one of his earliest friends before they lost touch -- and Felipe bummed around the beach for a little while afterward before finally getting close enough to their front door for Alice to send him packing with the "Send Home" interaction.That was -- bizarre. And makes me think I need a mod to stop these random "wanna be besties/romantic partners" pop-ups -- they're getting a little out of hand if Victor's being harassed on his own honeymoon!
Anyway -- with Felipe sorted, Victor, Alice, and Smiler went back to enjoying the break in the weather, with Victor and Alice collaborating on a sand castle while Smiler went to check out the fishing spot on their little island. Unfortunately, the break did not last long -- shortly after Victor and Alice finished their castle, the rain returned. As they were already tired, I went ahead and sent them inside to have a mid-afternoon nap in their newly-upgraded bed. Smiler braved the storm for a bit to continue fishing, catching a rainbowfish and some driftwood, but the minute the rainstorm became a THUNDERSTORM, I sent them inside to play on their computer for a while instead. They enjoyed a few rounds of SimScuffle while waiting for Victor and Alice to wake up --
And then, the moment Victor DID wake up, the laptop broke. Figures, right, Smiler? Fortunately, the best part about having a husband who is an accomplished spellcaster is him being able to instantly repair your broken electronics -- one cast of Repairio later, and Smiler's laptop was fine. They promptly began upgrading it to break a little less while Victor and Alice grabbed some chips and dip for dinner...
#sims 4#the lazy save#victor van dort#alice liddell#smiler always#yeah I was very startled to suddenly see Felipe on the island#going 'wanna be best friends?'#like game plz#I mean fine I said yes Felipe and Victor have enough history to justify it#but seriously O.o#I swear I've seen a mod to stop this nonsense I just gotta track it down#High School Years (since I'm reasonably certain that's what added it) why are you like this#and yes they got one short break in the weather#and then the rain started up again *sigh*#at least Victor and Alice were already tired#and Smiler had their laptop#regained their 'Techie' lifestyle from playing on it and upgrading it btw#I am in favor#also in favor of Victor Repairioing it and Smiler cheering them on XD#what can I say that picture of Smiler getting excited over Victor's magic is cute XD#queued
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Okay I went to the game anyway but whatever I wasn't on the verge of death (like how I felt yesterday I'm still sick though)
#at least it wasnt raining like yesterday though#my throat hurts but thats besides the point i was asking my dad questions but the crowd was too loud#so i had to scream what i was asking aboht and *sigh*#dont even get me started on the screeching child behind me#good god i dont usually hate children but damn people need to make there kids shut up#then again it was a football game but still#mik0is0sick
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How it started:
How it’s going:
#star speaks#the space above my bed is empty to make room for my art#Insha’Allah#stupid of me to do this the night before I go back to work I know but#felt like I should#I still have a monet print to put up and the rest of the natural history postcards#I accidentally squished the whale skeleton one sadly but I guess it looks more aged now?#wrinkled a bit#fits the aesthetic?#need batteries for the shell lights also#I’m disappointed I couldn’t finish it all tonight I really wanted a cosy haven to come home to after work#that was the motivation behind it anyway#but I’ve got to finish sorting out the rest of the postcards from Natural History Museum#and the monet painting#and I need to clean out my cloud rain lamp so I can turn it on again#*sighs* at least I made a start?#I feel confused as to whether it was a good exchange doing this instead of painting and watching Dr Slump#but I’m *waves hands* messy right now and I’m struggling to have a handle on things#maybe sleep will help the organising did sort of keep my mind busy
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love and deepspace men when you (playfully) reject their kiss ft. zayne, xavier, rafayel
fluff, fluff, FLUFF
zayne
his kiss landed on the outer corner of your lips instead as you turned away at the very last second as he leaned in
he just stared at you for a solid five seconds.
“was this because i left you on read this afternoon?” his voice was soft, uncertainty danced across his feature. you just shrugged, turning away from him to hide the smile you’ve been trying really hard to suppress.
he grabbed a hold of your waist first, keeping you in place. he saw the shameless smile on your face, couldn’t help but let out a little chuckle of his own. “should’ve known.”
you laughed, “but you did left me on read, how dare you?” his thumb moved up and down on your side as he made no change on his expression, like doing a gesture he didn’t even realize doing it. “alright then, i apologize for not replying within twenty minutes, since i did give you a call as soon as i was available.”
you put your hands on either side of his cheeks, he leaned into the touch. of course, it didn’t bothered you one bit when he didn’t reply right away since you knew very well how demanding his job was.
you planted a sweet kiss on his lips, you could feel his little smile as you pulled away. “good work today, zayne.”
“hm, then surely you would indulge me more of that for a moment longer?”
xavier
he’s quiet for a moment; he did kiss you, but he didn’t know why you’d turn your head on the last second like that as he kissed you on the cheek instead.
he casted his gaze downwards, looking like a rejected kitten in a pouring rain searching for its owner.
your heart squeezed at the adorable act, lifting his chin with your palm. he tilted his head questioningly, the words was obvious on his face. did i do something wrong today? were you mad?
xavier stared at you as he recalled today’s events, but he reached his wits end pretty fast since he still had no idea why you’d reject his kiss.
you then giggled at his clueless expression, and xavier immediately understood that you’re being playful. he let out a little sigh of relief, embracing you. his neck deep at the crook of your neck, his soft hair tickling you in the best way possible.
“you’re too playful at times,” he mumbled, he looked like he had all the peace in the world. “sorry, will you forgive me?” you ran your fingers through the back of his head. “i’ll forgive you if you promise not to reject my kiss ever again,” he said.
you laughed, “okay then, if you insist.”
rafayel
oh. he looked so offended beyond belief. you’d think someone had insulted his painting; a product from his passion and effort. but to think it’s just a face he made because you didn’t want him to kiss you.
“i see what this is,” he started, the dramatic side of him just wouldn’t let this slide. you challenged, “yeah? what is it?”
“you tell me. this is just the beginning isn’t it. first you reject my kiss, next thing i know you’d be packing your bags, telling me you’ve fallen out of love.” he crossed his arms in front of his chest, his pout was the most exaggerated as it’s ever been.
you had to hold your laugh so hard, you covered your mouth with your fist. “it was just a kiss rafayel, i wasn’t feeling it.” you replied, trying your best to sound serious.
“wasn’t feeling it?” he gasped, like you just insulted his whole entire bloodline. he put up a palm in front of your face, like refraining you to say more controversial things. he took a deep breath to calm himself, “it’s fine, it’s not like i was eager to kiss you either.” he mumbled like he was talking to himself, although it’s obvious he’s being a little loud on purpose. also, lies. he practically bounced on air when he approached you.
finally a laugh escaped you, rafayel looked at you and he just fumed. “just so you know i expect you to make up for all the emotional distress i just went through.” you laughed a little more as you grabbed a hold of his face. “i would kiss you many times to make it up but i think someone just said he wasn’t really that eager to kiss me?” you raised an eyebrow.
his eyes lit up for a moment at the mention of a kiss, and next second he looked around frantically to make an excuse. “it’s okay i understand, fighting that many wanderers who make a lot of strange screeching noises? it’d disturb your hearing a little. i said i was eager to kiss you.” he smiled, nodding to himself. you laughed once more at his ridiculousness.
“sure, let’s go with that excuse.” you kissed him and when you pulled away he held your head, giving you multiple kisses before he let you go with a grin.
#love and deepspace#love and deepspace x reader#zayne x reader#xavier x reader#rafayel x reader#zayne love and deepspace#xavier love and deepspace#rafayel love and deepspace
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i can fix him and fuck him.
18+ [logan x female!reader]
nobody can break through logan's walls with ease like you can. and he actually lets you, welcomes it even. he needs it to breathe and when he's ready to walk out of the gifted youngsters door, there you are again.
word count: 5,737
logan sulks. he’s so devoid of love and compassion that he sulks. he’s confused most days, too. unsure of who he is and what he even wants. the people who are somehow closest to him can’t even find their way past the fire breathing dragons that guard the drawbridge to his heart. (scott jokes that he doesn’t have a heart and that the adamantium replaced it and he’s fully pumping cold, hard metal).
logan is a man who answers to himself and doesn’t give people even the slightest chance to ask him a dumb fucking question because he’s not in the fucking mood. he’s never in the mood…unless you put him in one. usually a good one.
you earn a smile from logan as easy as the sun makes it seem to rise every morning and the moon to take its place at night. it leaves the team dumfounded. they believe if you weren’t here, logan would have left a long time ago. they’re right. logan used to search high and low for any excuse to leave. he never knew where he’d go, he’d just…go. but you didn’t dare let him out of your sight. not ever since the professor had brought you to what you call home a little over a year ago now.
deep down, he wanted reasons to stay. somewhere deep inside that metal frame…he wanted things to be right again. he’d find it tiring most days to carry around his grief and anger. but you gave him reasons to stay just one more day.
“so we’re working on that thing for charles together tomorrow right?” you asked on a wednesday, standing so cutely in the threshold of his door that it was almost annoying to him.
“so we’re catching that movie downtown with ororo and hank tomorrow right? it starts at 6!” you asked on a thursday.
“heeyyy, lo…do you possibly, maybe think you could sub for scott’s morning classes tomorrow? he has a dentist appointment…,” you shyly asked on a very late sunday night. (logan heard scott’s jokes about his heart so he made you ask. logan was the only one available.)
but behind his stoic stature and intimidating glare fixed on his face accompanied by knitted brows, he’d always say yes…to you. you were his reason for staying. he knew it but would never admit it. you knew it but played the oblivious part well. and the rest of the team would gossip about it when you two weren’t around. but as long as you were here, logan has nowhere else to be.
although as of late, you’ve been busy. much busier than usual. charles has you creating plans for a mission happening soon. when you’re not teaching mutant ethics 101 to freshmen, you’re hauled up in the lab or library; sometimes darting back and forth between the two multiple times a day leaving very little time to worry about logan.
tonight, you brought your work back to your dorm. as you cleaned up a rough draft of an exit strategy, rain began to tap lightly on the window. you had lit candles littered around the room as well as grouped on your table, a small desk lamp illuminated the surface further. as you reached up to stretch your aching back muscles, you were startled by the sound of a throat clearing.
your eyes shot to the sound at your door where logan stood, leaning against the frame; arms crossed and still like he had been glued to the spot.
“hi lo,” you say. “y’scared me, heh.” you aren’t used to logan greeting you often, especially not this late. he’s over 150 years old, of course he’s grumpy and an early bird. you’re usually the one at his door with requests and invitations to social events he assumes can be nothing short of insufferable. he sighs, his stare dropping to burn holes in the ground. “logan, are you-“
“i think i’m gonna get out of here, bub.”
those words felt like an arrow hitting the bullseye in your chest and then another splitting the first one right through the center.
“wha-what do you mean?…you’re leaving?” you asked, confusion and frustration trembling in your voice.
“it’s too hard being here.”
with that, you stood up from your chair, beelining to him. “c’mere,” you say hushed, pulling on his leather clad arm, trying to unfold them and get him out of the door frame. he doesn’t budge and you pull “the look” that you know he can’t say no to. “come sit with me please, lo.”
he unfolds his arms which allows you to grab his hands to lead him to take a load off on your bed. your bare feet pat on the hardwood floor as you quickly go back to close the door.
you walked back over to him, assessing his body language. ever since he let you use your mutation to “read him” a few months ago, you told him you’d never do it again without his permission. one gaze into his eyes and a touch of his skin and you could feel everything wracking around in his head. anxiety, rage, hate but love, pain. it was hard to feel just for a moment and your heart cracked knowing he was riddled with those feelings constantly.
but right now you couldn’t help it, he was slouched on the edge of the bed, his head dropping to rest in his large hands, and apparently ready to walk right out of the door. your powers are amplified with a touch and even more when you can look into their eyes. from a distance, you could feel a sense of unease and something else… a pressure…built up in your stomach as you surveyed your friend. it didn’t feel bad though…it felt familiar. a good familiar. you stopped reading him and did your best to shrug off the aching stomach feeling and care for your disheveled logan.
he wasn’t emotional, like ever. he hid all that, only showing you what you wanted to see; what he believed you wished him to be — happy, whatever that was. but that couldn’t’ve been farther from the truth. sure, you want him to be happy but also just whatever he wanted to feel, you wouldn’t suppress it or try to change it to fit some ideal of who people on the outside want him to be. yes, he was one of the meanest motherfuckers you had ever met but he was your mean motherfucker. (whatever that means because nothing has ever really been clear between you two).
you walked closer to him, forcing yourself in his diabolical bubble. you stood between his legs, removing his hands from his face to wrap them around your waist. you scooped your hands under his scruffy chin, pulling up to get a look into his bloodshot eyes. oh, he’d been crying.
“lo…,” you muttered. “why were you crying, wolv?” you slide a thumb across his cheek where tears had stained the skin. “why do you want to leave?”
he pulled his face away, breaking his stare with you. he dropped his head forward to rest on your stomach, wrapping his arms around your legs so his hands rested on the back of your thighs. he began to slowly rub the exposed skin of them that your very short night shorts didn’t cover. he lifted the hem of your shirt slightly to press his hot face into the soft, cool skin underneath. he hummed into it, allowing you to feel the vibration.
“logan,” you softly moaned his name under your breath. his fingers press firmly, inching closer to the crease in the skin where your ass meets thigh.
“is this okay?” he asks lowly, when he looks up for confirmation to keep going, you’re already looking down at him nodding. “say it’s okay for me to touch you like this, bub.”
“yes, keep going, logan,” you said curtly. in your voice there is a hint of need. you hadn’t been touched like this since jean’s christmas party, tipsy off spiked egg nog in the garden with a guy whose mutation was a very wet, long tongue. flirting with him seemed intriguing in the moment, but five minutes later, it rendered itself utterly useless due to user error. the sexual tension between you and logan is so potent it usually clears out a room. aside from accidental brushes of hands and quick looks at each others lips mid conversation, neither one of you has acted on it.
his hums turn to growls and soft whimpers as your hands ran through and tugged his hair. your fingers found their way to his nape, splaying out to grip the hair there in your fist. he managed to place a single kiss on the skin right above the elastic of your shorts before you pulled his head back to scrutinize his face.
“you don’t have permission to read me,” he groaned. before you could ask how he even knew that’s what you were doing he said, “you get this serious, focused look in your eyes. i can feel you in my head.”
“logan, what are we doing?” you ask, releasing his hair and stepping out of his bubble.
his hands drop from the absence of your thighs onto his lap and his sighs frustratingly.
“what do you mean?” he asks, admiring your body in the dim light with a semi pressing on the denim of his jeans through his boxers.
“i’m…not doing this with you…if you’re just gonna disappear from my bed before the fuckin’ sun comes up. i’m not doing this,” you said, with your hands on your hips.
he pressed his hands into his knees to push himself up to tower over you. he took two big steps forward and stood in front of you. his hand raised up to brush the back of his fingers across your cheek to cup it and rub his thumb over the warm skin.
he pressed his lips to yours, skillfully allowing his tongue access to it. you let him. “i give you permission,” he moaned in your mouth. “read me. feel how i feel about you…how i’ve always felt about you.”
he welcomed the hesitant slip of your hands past his jacket and under his shirt, shivering and chuckling “mm, cold” into your mouth. you rested your cool touch on his hips and with his mouth obsessed with yours, you read him.
your head dizzied instantly and the hair on the back of your neck stood up. you had never felt anything as strong as this. you could almost taste the colors in logan’s head. your heart dropped to your stomach like you were on a rollercoaster, feeling sick from adrenaline in the best ways. and then, returned that good familiar feeling. this time buried even deeper in your stomach, moving it’s way lower…and lower until logan was swallowing the noises escaping you. before you literally passed out, you dropped your hands and took back ownership of your lips and tongue. breathing heavily, you moved away from him to collect yourself.
a beat of silence followed by a heavy sigh and a “well, say something” from logan passed and you opened your mouth to speak before shutting it again.
that…was the best thing you had ever felt. no drug could compare to the euphoria that a minute of kissing logan could bring. you could practically feel yourself lubricating and your upper thighs unconsciously squeezed together as you scrambled to find thoughts.
there were none. your mind already dumb and wanting more of him…more of the feeling. your fists planted firmly on both your hips as if you were grounding yourself to the floor to avoid buckling. you eyed the ground, looked back up at him and forwarded with another heated, taking-in-each-others-breath kiss. your hands found their way to the same place gripping the hair on his nape to which he praised the tug with a moan. he supported your balance as your whines got more whiney and needy and your hands held onto him like life support.
“lay down,” he said into your kiss. it wasn’t really a command, more of a warning because he tossed you on the bed like unfolded laundry.
he stood over you as you collected yourself, darting your tongue out to taste the spit he left behind. you propped yourself up on your elbows to get a look at the man casting a shadow over you. without the sounds of pleasure exclaiming in each others mouths, your ears absorbed the comforting sound of the battering rain. a tree branch smacked the window as thunder rumbled outside.
logan took a moment to admire your presence. starting at the top, he gazed upon your hair that he associates with vanilla and roses and the times he’d touch himself wondering how it’d feel being wrapped around his hand and pulled.
as he removed his leather jacket, he took his time mentally undressing you. feeling even more pressure build in your clit, you bore your hips down into the mattress, rolling them in circles to stimulate the swollen nub. he beheld your tits, flicking his tongue over his bottom lip at the sight of your hard buds under your very thin, white tank top. he threw his heavy jacket to the side, letting it thud in a ball on the ground.
“you look so beautiful, sweetheart,” he said, deeply enthralled by your scantily clad figure laid out in front of him. unable to stop staring, you could see the bulge in his pants get larger and it ridiculously turned you on. with you making eye contact with the crotch of his jeans, he effortlessly unfastened his belt buckle. the metallic buckle clanked to the floor as his jeans and boxers pooled around his ankles.
he stroked himself while he looked upon you. it was like you could read his mind, because you began to touch yourself. the twitch of his lips and darkening of his eyes validated your teasing. letting yourself drop back on the bed, you caressed your body for him. one hand occupied by cupping your tit and pinching and twisting your nipple while the other is exploring the wet spot left on your panties. not being able to handle eye-fucking you any longer, he dropped to his knees on the edge of the bed between your legs. logan hooked his arms under your knees, pulling you close which in your intoxicatingly lustful brain you found funny, so you laughed.
logan spread your thighs open so he could fit in between them to leave wet, sloppy kisses all over your skin. he nibbled here and there, earning soft hisses and hums from your parted lips.
kiss kiss nibble hiss mmm kiss hum nibble nibble bite kiss suck
he spent about a minute just doing that, leaving warm welts in his mouths wake. “i need these off of you, princess.” once he had kissed his way up to the elastic of your shorts, he snapped it. you nodded and he did the honor of pulling them down and flinging them across the room like he was opening presents on christmas morning.
he let out an amused scoff as he ran his trembling hand down his face, caught between ecstatic disbelief at the sight of your black lace panties with little black bows adorning the seams. you mentally thanked your past self for slacking on doing laundry and only having your “special occasion” panties left to wear.
“d’you know how pretty you are,” he said. his eyes traced over every inch of you in excitement like you were artwork he stole from the louvre and made out like a bandit with.
his hand disappeared to slickly stroke himself, his mouth watering in anticipation for your taste. his chest heaves as he takes in the sight of you, studying every curve prettily laid out before him; thinking about every position he wants to see you in and every way he wants to please you. without another groan inducing thought, he lunged forward to press a kiss to your lips, his tongue demanding attention. you drink his breath like liquor becoming completely intoxicated by him. he needed this, he needed you.
“need…to taste…you,” he breathed in between kisses. with this mouth obsessed with yours, his hands caress your tits, his thumbing circles on one of the nubs while he’s pinching and pulling on the other. your head falls back and your neck rolls at the sensation, earning profanities from your pretty, swollen lips. your tit misses the hand that he proceeds to run down and up your thigh to locate the spot in your panties you were playing with a moment before. as he parts from your kiss, he’s hooked two fingers under the elastic, pulling those off swiftly.
you yelp when he pushes your torso down. you stare up at the decorative ceiling as he savors you, kissing and massaging your thick thighs. he’s enjoying playing with you as much as possible before allowing himself any pleasure. he wants your juice to cover his face…his neck…his arm…the bed…the floor too when he gets you to pop like a water balloon.
“logan…please, please,” you beg, pawing at his hair. you lift your head to watch the man between your legs taking in the sight and smell of your pretty, wet pussy. even in the dim light, he could see how much you ached for him. he not so secretly got entertainment from watching you lightly buck your hips up to his face and he would’ve let it continue but your pheromones became overwhelming for him; engulfing his head in it’s enchanting aroma.
like fresh pie on a windowsill, he was drawn into you. logan opened wide to swipe one flat tongued lick up your slit. he had one goal — to knock all sense out of you, to fully engulf you in pleasure. he wants you dumb and begging for him to stay right where he is — at the mansion and also all over you.
logan audibly sucked and popped your clit in and out of his mouth, teasing the most sensitive bit. he’d suck and pop and then lick up your slick, repeating the act. one of his big hands reached up to cup your tit, pinching and twisting and circling. from his hair to the tit he wasn’t playing with, you clawed at whatever would ground you. being eaten by logan felt like floating above the stratosphere.
your wet soaked his beard and it only made him more horny, his cock dripping and throbbing in his fist. tasting you, inhaling you, winning pretty sounds from you, knowing he’s the one making you buck up and fuck his nose only made his appetite for you insatiable. he let go of himself to push his pointer and middle fingers into your needing pussy. you hissed and cursed. the thrill of him devouring you began to reach its peak. his fingers pumped relentlessly into you, curling them to stimulate your g-spot. moans, curses, the gushing of your wet cunt, his sucking and popping and vibrating moans mixed with the rain and thunder grumbling outside filled the dorm like mozart’s symphony no. 25.
he wanted to kiss you, so he did. with his fingers still coaxing an orgasm out of you, he shared the sweet taste. he got back on the bed with you, sliding his free hand under your back to push you up to further to see the mess you were making on the sheets.
“look at how good you’re taking my fingers,” he groaned, inching closer to your ear so you could hear his dirty language loud and clear. “you can come for me, baby.” he peppered a few kisses to your forehead, removing his hand from behind you so he could press it into your stomach. this only heightened the overwhelming wash of pleasure coursing through you.
“lo…logan, i’m-“
“fuck my fingers, baby. use them…oh that’s it…that’s it…i feel that clenching, c’mon you can do it for me. go big baby, make me happy.” his dirty mouth and sporadic clit circling and pumping in and out of you with his tireless wrist pushed you over the edge. you cowered into his neck, pulling on his white tank top and biting the salty skin below his ear as your pussy obeyed, erupting with your juices. out of breath and fucking dumb already, you could feel the wet soak the sheets under your ass.
logan pulled his fingers out of you, landing a light smack on your pussy before licking you clean off of his digits. you fell back on the bed, your arms above your head as you heaved and saw stars.
“‘m not done with you, princess.” he slid off the bed, still delighted by your taste and engulfed in your aroma.
“fuuuck,” you groaned. the pulsing lightning feeling spread throughout both legs as an effect of your rocking orgasm. logan was wicked with his tongue, a devious magician with his fingers and you were his sole audience member wondering about his tricks for sleight of hand.
he quickly tossed his tank, that had tug marks from your attempt to ground yourself, to the side, his muscles flexing under his skin. as he let your post orgasm, cock-dumb brain fog clear, he spit in his hand to fuck his fist. his saliva mixed with the pre-cum leaking from the head, he groaned and sighed heavily at the feeling of giving his dick some sort of relief. you, needy for another hit of him, propped yourself up on your elbows to watch the most delectable creature pleasure himself.
just the sight of him illuminated by candles and flashes of lightning outside as he gets off to how fucked out and dumb you look was enough to have you open up again and play with yourself. the sensitivity from your swollen nub required a delicate touch but your pussy ached, clenching around nothing. his knitted brows relaxed, eyes darting from your pretty face, to your tits, to your fingers rubbing circles where his mouth resided moments ago back to look longingly into your eyes.
“you’re gonna stay,” you said. your hand reached your mouth, your tongue swiping a lick up your middle and ring fingers, wrapping your lips around them to coat them in your saliva. “tell me you’re going to stay for me,” you elaborated. your wet fingers found your aching center.
“there’s no where else i want to be,” he answered. he paced closer to the bed where you laid, his dick basically making eye contact with you as he stopped a few inches away. “you’re mine, you know that?” he noticed your hand slow, “keep going,” he commanded. logan reached out to cup your face, tilting his head to get a look at you obeying his every request. “your face…your mouth…,” his thumb swiped across your lips as he spoke. “your body…your cunt.” he leaned down to kiss your mouth, leaving a string of spit attached to your lower lip. “your laugh…your heart,” he said kindly, his hand massaging your scalp. moans earned from his praise escaped you. “you’re all mine. is that okay with you, baby?”
you’re so bewitched by his aura and his subtle touches make your heart race so fast that you can’t do anything but try to maintain his torrid eye contact and nod.
“use your words, honey.” his thumb returned to the softness of your parted lips.
“i’m yours, logan,” you said, taking his thumb in and closing your lips around it. “if you’ll stay with me, i’ll be yours forever,” you breathed around his thumb, speaking from a mix of eager lust and the terrifying need for him to not to be an asshole, just once.
“i’m not going anywhere…i promise,” he said matter of factly before leaning back down to hungrily devour your kiss. “i need to…fuck you…now,” he cursed in between swallowing moans.
“do what you want…i’m yours,” you said just clearly audible over the storm rumbling outside. you two shared eye contact so intense that you noticed his dick twitch from your peripheral. you took his dick in your drooling mouth, reaching up to squeeze the base of him. it twitched from the warmth, pressure and tongue swiping rhythmically around his angry, red tip. you kept yourself enveloped around his length, bobbing your head to hit your gag reflex. the added lubrication drove him crazy, his abs twitching under the toned skin of his abdomen. you moaned around him purely from the enjoyment you got out of having him stretch the corners of your mouth, feeling the sting from it.
logan reached down with both hands to hold your head steady while he sped up thrusting into your throat. your gags and gasps for air, his praise and the storm filled the room beautifully.
“fuuuck, baby, keep that throat open for me please,” he begged. his hands left their position to find a new one — one supporting his thrusting hips, the other petting your head. “oh, you look so fuckin’ pretty with my cock down your throat…you’re taking me so good, sweetheart.”
he pulled his dick out of your mouth to smack it on your face, complimenting how gorgeous you look. he kissed and licked the mess off of your mouth.
“mm, baby i need to know how good you feel.” with that, he rounded the bed to lay down. “c’mere, baby.” you turned around, crawling on all fours to obey him. his cock in its usual place to be, in his fist, leaks pre-cum in anticipation for you to smother it with your warm, clenching pussy.
“lay down,” he said.
“damn, yes sir,” you say, jokingly annoyed with all of his demands. you lay down next to him, your knees instinctively parting slightly. he lays on his side, resting his hand on your stomach, rubbing his large hand in flat circles.
“d’you know how long i’ve thought about this moment with you?” he asked, leaning in to kiss and suck the skin in the crook of your neck. you lustfully sighed at the sensation of his hot breath. his hand finds its way between your legs again, tickling and tapping at your slit. “i want you to read me the whole time i’m inside…can you do that?”
“are you—“
“yes i’m sure, i feel so fucking good right now and i haven’t even felt you. i want you to feel that and more,” he explains, pulling your chin in to taste the desperation on you.
before he came just from your kiss and rutting against the sheets, he hovered above you. his lips stayed attached to your chest, kissing lower and lower to suck a tit into his mouth, flicking your nipple with his tongue then biting softly on the nub. his hand disappeared from the side of your head to grab hold of his shaft, flicking his tip against your clit. his head dropped as he watched and listened to your slick coating his cock. he quickly swiped up and down your pussy trying to savor every fold and feeling. his brows furrowed, not being able to resist your warmth, he lined himself up with your hole, using his hand to guide just the tip into it.
“oh…fuck,” he groaned in excitement. he pushed in just a little more which caused you to hiss. his head shot up and eyes scanned your face for any sign of regret or unsureness. “are you okay? d’you want to stop?”
“no, baby,” you giggled, lifting your arms rest around his neck, one hand always finding a way into his dark locks. “just been a while…keep going, i’m okay.”
with your permission, he pushed in a little more. he let out a deep groan at the feeling of you stretching to form perfectly around him. you gasped, pressing a hand into his chest, feeling a similar sting to the one you felt in the corners of your mouth earlier. against his want to start thrusting his whole length into you, his went slow, watching your demeanor for cues to keep going.
“you feel…fuck…like it was made for me,” he said which caused the butterflies in you to flutter their wings even faster. “are you okay?” his chest heaved and his breath fanned your face.
“fuck me…please logan,” you said. your hands reached his hips, pushing them down onto you. without wasting another minute, he did.
he bent your knee more to press it into your chest as his hips repeatedly slammed down hard, his balls smacking your ass. with one hand giving him better access by positioning your leg higher, the other cupped and squeezed your bouncing tit.
“oh my…fucking god,” you moaned. you had let the walls of your mutation down, allowing yourself to be flooded by not only your pleasure…but the love logan feels for you plus the absolute sheer euphoria that he was experiencing deep inside of your pussy. it coursed through your body like a steam engine leaving the station. it had felt like you had been brought to five earth shattering orgasms before the one that was bound to shake you again soon.
“you know you feel so good, look at that fuckin’ fucked out smile. can you feel it? can you feel how good you make me feel, baby? don’t stop readin’ me, princess. it’s all for you,” he praised for you to hear every word.
“holy shit…mm fuckin’…ahh!” your hands couldn’t help but find their way above your head, subconsciously reaching for the bed post for something to ground you again.
“here, baby, hold onto me.” logan grabbed your wandering wrist with his free hand, slapping your hand on his chest which you pressed into as if you were pushing him away. before your cock drunk mind could register what happened, he had flipped the two of you so you were on top.
logan looked so fucking pretty under you. you took a second to breathe and take in the view before bending your knees to put yourself in a squatting position on his cock. you placed your hands on his heaving chest for support as you started to bounce your ass on him. ‘oh this is so fun’, the thought making you giggle in elation as you drilled down your hips, rocking them back and forth to feel him stimulate the deepest parts of you. his thumb bored into your clit, drawing circles on it.
as you kept bouncing your wet pussy on him just how he liked, logan lifted his knees up behind you and pushed you back onto them. he moved his hand away from your clit and picked his head up to watch his dick disappear deep inside you. then, he spit. his saliva landed on your pussy and stomach. he went back to stimulating you, fully realizing how much that turned you on from the tight clench around him and the extra juice running down his ass onto the sheets under you two.
he, still playing with your clit, summoned your face closer to his with the middle and ring fingers on the other hand. once closer, he grabbed your neck to kiss your fiercely.
“you’re my good girl, huh?”
‘mhmm’ was all you could muster with his hand around your throat and his hips still ramming his cock into your stretched out hole.
“use those words for me, baby. are…mm, fuck…you my good girl?”
“ye…sss, baby i’m your…good…oh my fucking…girl!!”
“open your mouth.” he fucking spit in it. you moaned tasting him again and feeling it on your face. “good…fuckin’ girl,” he complimented, kissing you and then squeezing your cheeks to spit on your tongue again.
your body started to go limp and your eyes were practically glued together. you could feel the searing hot orgasm burning up inside. you could feel logan in a way that you never thought possible. everything.
his love, his passion, his longing, his fear, his anxiety, his lust, his heart…everything was yours in this moment. high on his feelings, you let your head fall back coming undone on top of him.
“oh you’re so pretty…that’s pretty, baby, keep…fuck…use me, it’s all for you.” his words took you further and further into ecstasy. it was a really good fucking trip that you never wanted to end. the pain of his cock fucking you out and his grip clutching your skin like he’d fall off earth without doing so made you moan so intensely that not even the thunder outside could compete.
he could tell you were a few fucks away from collapsing but so was he.
“baby…you keep clenching around me like that…i’m gonna fuckin’ fill you,” he said. you kept bouncing on it, wanting him to even feel a fraction of how he just made you feel. he closed his eyes trying to last as long as possible in the heaven that he found in you. his thumbs bore into your hips as he used them to ground himself.
“i want it, baby…fill your good girl up.” you leaned down to speak into his ear and then carry on kissing his neck, letting him claim your moans as trophies.
“fuuuuck…fuuuck,” he moaned as his thrusting became sloppy and you weren’t bouncing as much anymore. his abs twitched again along with his face.
SNIKT!!
you hissed at the cool metal of his claws against your skin and the feel of him throbbing severely inside you as he let himself paint your walls. you thanked him in pleased moans before falling on his chest. still semi-hard inside, he kissed the top of your head to which you looked up and he gave you a proper kiss. he let himself twitch out a few more dribbles of cum inside you before pulling his claws back in to carefully rub your back.
a few beats of silence went by as you listened to each others hastened breaths and the rain tapping the glass.
“…i love you, logan.”
“i think you know how much i love you, baby,” he said, smugly remembering how you looked coming on his dick, further escalated by his letting you read him.
you two snuggled naked under the covers and as you laid on his chest and listened to his light snoring, you read him again.
ease and silence…and love.
#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett smut#xmen fic#wolverine smut#i hate everyone but you#logan howlett#wolverine#hugh jackman
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