#and you know you could be a part of it. you know you'd be welcome

[anundyingfidelity]

HAPPY MISTAKE — Logan Howlett

Summary: Not ever, through all the years of your life, you found someone like Logan. Since he arrived at the school, something brought you together like a magnet. Sadly, not everything came out as you wished it would be. Time is not gentle with mutants, and you try so hard to show him your unconditional love before everything is over, but can you finally accept your feelings for each other? Or yours and Logan's tumultuous relationship through the years.

(PART ONE → PART TWO) | GEN MASTERLIST!

Pairing: Logan x mutant!female!reader.

Word count: 9.6k.

Warnings: slow burn, breaking up(?)/making up, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, eventual smut and unprotected everything, language, character death, time travel, Logan hurting reader unintentionally, wounds and blood. Logan being a whore for both Jean Grey and the reader. Reader has slow aging as Logan and looks around mid 30s in my head. Anthropology teacher!reader. Reader can manipulate light (just like Starlight from The Boys). This takes place between different movies from the franchise, from X-Men 1 to DoFP, so spoilers of the movies ahead.

Notes: Long time no write. Life is horrible but somehow I managed to get this in like two months. I love Logan so fucking much now you don't have an idea. This was also written with Happy Mistake by Lady Gaga in mind. If you'd like to be tagged in the second part let me know or let me know your thoughts on this, it's very much appreciated! I suffered a lot writing it .

𝒊𝒇 𝒊 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒇𝒊𝒙 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏 𝒑𝒊𝒆𝒄𝒆𝒔, 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒊'𝒅 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒂 𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒚 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒌𝒆.

—

2000

“Need any help?”

Logan stopped on his tracks from wandering around the cozy, yet strange place he woke up in. Turning on his feet, he saw your figure standing in the middle of the hallway. He said nothing, but you approached him as you had known him for a very long time.

“I assume you’re the new guy-”

“Where is she?” Logan abruptly interrupted once you stood inches away from him.

“Rogue? She’s fine. And you need to take a little rest.”

“I don’t need medical attention,” he said, looking around to search for a nearby exit. Before he walked away you took his arm in a soft grip.

He was, as much as you could tell, surprised by your boldness. You gave him no time to process his next movements once you talked again, your voice firm and welcoming in a way he had never felt before.

“Please, you need to meet Professor Xavier,” you said. “At least before you go. It’s totally fine if you wanna leave, I don’t recommend it though, but we can offer you a safe place here. We are just like you.”

Logan’s hardened expression relaxed for a moment, sensing no threat coming from you. All he saw in your eyes wasn’t pity, nor anger at him being kind of an asshole at first. It was just authority, the good kind where he also had something to say and decide about.

“Whatcha say, Logan?”

He was so immersed in his thoughts before you called his name, thinking it sounded beautiful falling off your lips. You gave him a half smile as he took in each detail of your face, as if he was memorizing every part of it.

It was the first time someone had been nice to him and it felt strangely good.

For some reason, it felt very good coming from you.

—

Logan just found out from the Professor’s mouth the mansion was a school for mutants. Gifted people, he called them. After learning another powerful mutant was behind him and Rogue, he had no other choice but accept the shelter. He didn’t like the other guys better, playing the teacher with a bunch of teenagers with special or cursed abilities. But besides Storm and Jean, you were the person who had welcomed him the most, even showing him the place and the room he would stay in.

One late night, you sat at the dining table together. Logan was silently drinking a beer outside school hours so the kids wouldn’t see him, and you, reading a bunch of papers from your students that you were missing. He realized how hard you worked, how you would praise your students, how you talked to them outside classes, being the one to actually convince Rogue to enroll in the school. Immediately, he knew you were really something, having much more in common than he thought. And you, living for so long, being both a mutant and a lady for sure had a hard life through time.

“What you teach again?” he suddenly asked, breaking the comfortable silence you shared.

“Anthropology,” you answered, giving him a short glance. “I took this at college a long time ago, and I’ve been alive long enough to know a thing or two,” you explained, putting away a paper after putting an A+ on it proudly. “It’s important to understand ourselves, humankind and mutants… It’s a diverse world and there are lots of cultures, languages and societies we don’t get to know, but it’s beautiful. I think I like to celebrate what makes us unique. I've had the chance to study some of them around the world since I had the time, y’know, and it’s truly amazing. It’s a shame we have to fight between us to make us heard when we could just be kind and empathetic to each other… Sorry, you didn’t ask but, y’know, anyway.”

You shook your head with a curve on your lips, going back to the next paper. Logan had taken the sparks in your eyes as you talked. He half smiled to himself once you buried yourself in your papers again, thinking you sounded just like Professor Xavier. No wonder why he took you in. Probably, if things were different for him, he would’ve found something that could light his face with so much passion just like you did.

“Been alive for almost two hundred years,” Logan said and you looked up to him. “We might have things about the past to share,” he drank from his beer. It was your turn to smile back at him.

“Yeah, well, I’ve lived both horrible but nice things. Couldn’t read or do math without being called a witch,” you chuckled to yourself, but hiding on the inside the awful experiences you had to endure. “Someday, we could go out and grab a coffee or something,” you said with a playful smile.

A light chuckle left your lips, but you and him knew it wasn’t just a joke.

He joined you with a warm smile that lit up his face before disappearing from his lips. “Of course. Count me in.”

—

The sun was shining bright and the weather was great that morning. Some of the students were in the yard playing, having some quality time, and others simply just left to go to the town. It was a good weekend before the next semester started, and it was better now knowing Magneto had been taken to prison after his failed attempt to use Rogue for his plans.

Sipping on your coffee, you saw the students outside. Laughing, running, having a good breakfast picnic. It felt heartwarming just taking this sight, wishing it would always be like this. Your mindful peace was interrupted when Logan entered the kitchen to have a coffee on his own. Visibly, you tensed just a little when he approached you and sat right in front of you at the dining table. The caffeine was not helping at all, you thought.

“Morning,” he greeted you, noticing something was off on you, but hoping it would pass. Maybe you already knew.

“Morning…” your voice came out as a whisper. “How you feeling?”

“Better. What about you?”

You gave a small nod. “Good, thanks for asking.”

A silence fell upon you. Not like the ones you used to share in lonely nights where you prepared your classes and Logan just sat down calmly because he couldn’t sleep. This time it was different. Words won’t come out of your mouth to ask what was really bothering you. You had grown up to like Logan and enjoy his company, but he had a lot of walls upon him, protecting himself of the world and people around him.

However, you understood why he did it. You both have been alive longer than anyone else. You saw people you love dearly dead, being killed because of your flaws. And you really connected to his idea of protecting people by leaving their side. It was better being away. That was until Professor Xavier recruited you. Here, you had a purpose and you helped young people to become the best versions of themselves. You wished Logan could do the same, stay and see he was more of what he thought of himself, but it wouldn’t happen. Right? He had things to sort out on his own.

“Are you leaving soon?”

When you asked the question, Logan knew you had heard something from the Professor. He gave you a nod.

“I need to reconnect with who I was,” he simply answered.

“Right… Wish you all the best there.”

Logan had grown to like you over the past few weeks you shared, exchanging experiences and lessons of life you had taken through the years. For a moment, he looked right into your eyes and smiled. He weirdly smiled, and you could swear he’d miss you too once he is away.

But that warm feeling soon faded away once Jean walked into the kitchen, saying good morning and beaming to the both of you. Logan followed her with his gaze, straightening himself on his seat as she served her own breakfast and an extra plate that you already knew was for Scott. She also began putting fruits and snacks inside a picnic basket while looking all happy and settled, and you knew why Logan had fallen in love with her. It was all over his face.

And you wondered how could he act and talk to you so kindly and sweet, and then look at Jean like that. It was a pain in your heart you tried to dissipate. Everyone knew Jean and Scott were a couple, and the fact that Logan had a not so secret crush on her really played on you. It made you feel like a fool and you had too many heartbreaks and hurted people, putting them in danger due to your mutation, to take initiative and start a relationship - or anything of the sort - again.

Scott made his way inside the kitchen, saying hi to both of you - mostly you. And took the tray with their plates as Jean grabbed the basket, but she let Scott leave the kitchen before.

“Have a good trip, Logan,” she said kindly. “I hope to see you around here soon.”

“Thank you, Jean.”

She smiled one last time before leaving you all alone, Logan following her with his eyes. Just for a second, you wished he could see you like that underneath his facade.

—

You had packed your stuff later that day, deciding a little air and a change for one night would do no wrong. Just as you were walking to the main door, Rogue was saying her goodbyes to Logan after giving him a small hug without really touching him. It was a cute sight how Rogue was able to step into his cold heart. She said goodbye to you as well before leaving the entrance.

“You’re going away too?” Logan asked, rather surprised as you both walked through the door, the sun hitting your skin as soon as you were out of the mansion. He knew your life was at the school.

“Just for the weekend,” you shrug it off.

Logan gave you a nod with a warm smile. “Then have a good trip and enjoy yourself.”

“Thanks. I hope you find what you’ve been looking for.”

“I hope so too,” Logan answered and before he went to take Scott’s bike, he looked at you hesitantly for a couple of seconds. “We should go out and grab some coffee once I’m back.”

Your lips formed a wide smile. “That sounds really nice.”

For a moment, where time felt like hours and not seconds, you stood right out the door, looking at each other. You wanted him to go first, but he was waiting for you to say something. Probably to ride the bike with him, he could leave you somewhere near your destination and feel you close - just be around you for at least five more minutes. But none of that ever happened.

Instead, you studied his face, looking at his deep eyes, and then his lips - those lips you wanted to kiss so bad before, but never had the courage to do so. You didn’t think further, and if something had taken possession over you, you leaned towards him leaving a short, sweet kiss on the corner of his lips.

“Take care,” you mumbled once you pulled away.

Not waiting for his answer, you turned back, pulling your bag to your side stronger than ever and walked the path to the front gates, feeling his gaze all over you until you left the mansion.

He felt such an idiot for not kissing you properly.

—

2003

‘I know what I want, but what do you want?’

Mystique’s words echoed through his head. Logan left the tent so long ago he didn’t know what time it was anymore and the situation kept repeating again and again in his mind. The woman had shifted between Jean, Ororo, and you. The one that icked him the most being Rogue once Mystique had taken her figure in. Storm was a good colleague, Jean was a forbidden love, Rogue was like his little sister, someone he would protect as long as he could, and you… you were a different case. When Mystique was about to kiss him wearing your figure, he finally realized he started feeling things he had prohibited himself for a very long time, and he thought he shouldn’t. He really shouldn’t.

Once or twice you shared experiences about love and partners, but he could tell it hurted you the same way as him. He couldn’t burden breaking your heart, or worse, getting you hurt because of what he was. Logan knew you had the same bad luck in the past, but it didn’t stop any of you to pull towards each other like a magnet.

‘Living for so long does things to you, Logan. I feel we become more aware of what we are.’

Those words you said to him one time remained in his head like a warning, and he took it personally.

Closing his eyes, he leaned against a hard tree trunk some feet away from the tents where the rest of the X-Men rested. He tried to find some peace alone for a few moments when the sounds of steps approaching alerted his senses. Claws out and ready to attack, he spun around the trunk only to stop in a second.

There you were, a bright light emanating from your hand to illuminate your path in the darkness of the woods.

“Logan?”

Quickly, he withdrew his claws and his body relaxed visibly. “Sorry,” he apologized, leaning against the tree one more time.

“Are you okay?” you asked, but you already knew the answer. The exhausted sigh he let out told you everything you needed. You let the soft glow of light floating between you and him, to illuminate both of you under the branches. “You wanna talk?”

He slowly shook his head, mumbling ‘no’. He became startled in the light floating like a firefly, letting his own issues wash away with your sole company. Ironically, everything that was troubling him was you. Softly, you caressed his arm, taking him out of his own thoughts. Your touch didn’t help his poor mind either.

Looking worried about the next mission in Lake Alkali, you feared for him and your team. And your lack of sleep was showing it. But just like Logan, the growing feelings were troubling your head. You had seen him talking with Jean earlier when you landed in the forest - talking too close to your liking once he pulled her for a kiss. But what could you do? Logan was still after Jean even when she had already declined him countless of times, and it didn’t really hurt you. It just felt strange inside. Why would he do that while still being nice to you, quitting being a dick when he wanted because he knew you’d snap back at him. And to be honest, Logan looked as if he liked that about you. But he won’t admit it out loud, and of course, you wouldn’t ask. Men were so damn complicated.

“Well, I only expect things to not get worse…” you finally said in a soft whisper since he wasn’t talking and you stopped your head going further on the matter. And you knew he wouldn’t talk soon either. “And you’re brave for seeking your past.”

Logan locked his eyes with your own, under the soft light. Your tired gaze, your figure, your aura pulling him like he found a treasure in an abandoned cave… He felt so bad for falling for someone like you, who was nothing compared to the crap he was. And then, for the first time in years, he decided to follow his instinct with you.

He leaned towards your figure, his rough hand cupping your cheek gently before pulling you in for a kiss. With a soft sigh you corresponded, your arms around his neck as it turned deeper and harsher. Logan lifted you easily from the ground, your legs tangling around his waist until you felt your back against a rough surface, trapped between the trunk and his body. Soft moans and grunts mingled, your chest pressing against his own, his hips grinding against your crotch. It was obvious you wanted this. Logan desired you so painfully after that day you kissed him goodbye at the mansion, he needed your body and soul. But you had to have answers before giving into the heat of the moment.

Pulling away, you broke the kiss, your forehead resting against his own as you tried to catch your breath. Logan tried to taste you once again, but you placed two of your fingers on his swollen lips.

“Why’d you kiss her?”

He remained silent, brows furrowed and eyes blown in lust. You didn’t make any effort to pull him away. He still had you between his legs, asking a simple question he had no response for.

“We’re adults here, Logan. Just wanna know why before we go further.”

Logan started to remember. He vividly heard Jean and Mystique voicing out and asking the right question.

‘Girls flirt with the bad guy. They take the good guy home.’

‘What do you want?’

“Do you really want me?” he asked in return.

You lifted an eyebrow at his sudden question. “And do you?”

He leaned again for a kiss on your lips, and thankfully for him, you didn’t stop it. But he quickly pulled away and inhaled your sweet scent from the skin on your neck, leaving a path of soft pecks, until he nipped the shell of your ear softly. You shivered under his touch.

“I’d love to have you,” he whispered, softly caressing your cheek with his thumb.

“Come to my tent,” you mumbled. “Sleep with me. But like, seriously, sleep with me ‘cause I’m tired,” you chuckled, hoping to not kill the mood.

Logan smiled for a bit and nodded, pecking your lips one more time before helping you get on your feet on the muddy ground, hands rubbing your sides slowly.

“As long as I have you by my side it’s alright with me.”

—

Jean’s death was hard to swallow.

For weeks, students and teachers mourned her, and you felt sorry for Scott for losing his soulmate. Logan was not in the best shape either. He didn’t attend her funeral, he never had the guts to stand by her grave either, until now. You stopped right behind him and noticed him sighing, under the afternoon sunset. He was tense because of everything, but when you took his hand out of the pocket of his jacket, he held onto you. Your fingers intertwined together, feeling his life depending solely on you, like a rock he needed to support his whole weight.

The day was about to end, the sun slowly hiding, giving a beautiful painting of orange and purple in the sky. You thought it would soon become an intense thunderstorm due to Ororo’s mourn - something you had gotten used to the last few days.

“She saved us,” Logan barely mumbled, looking intensely at the grave.

You nodded, even if he could not see you. “Can’t blame her, I’d have done the same.”

Those words cause him to look back at you, wishing it’d be a lie. But inside, Logan knew you really had the guts to sacrifice yourself for others. It was something he remembered both of you talking about some time ago. And you would give everything in your hands to save the ones you love.

Quietly, Logan gave a last glance at Jean’s grave, and guided you inside the mansion. Classes barely started again due to the circumstances and a few kids could be seen around the halls. You accompanied him to the doors of his room, noticing you had been holding hands the whole time. Probably no one really cared, they were too busy trying to go through the grief of losing a loved one. Slowly, you broke the gesture, taking your hand away and Logan immediately missed the heat and comfort of your hand.

“Do you need anything?” you asked in a low voice.

Looking at you, Logan reminisced how you kissed in the woods, the need and lust for each other that couldn’t be. He did sleep in your tent that night, in the comfort of your arms, feeling the warmth of your skin. It was, probably, the first time he had a good, peaceful night of sleep in years. No one had brought that up, but he knew something was there. And he needed to act on it before it was too late.

So he brought up his hands to your face, cupping your cheeks lovingly before planting a kiss on your lips, not caring he was standing in the middle of the hallway where anyone could see what was going on. You leaned against his touch, deepening the kiss until you couldn’t catch a breath. When he pulled away, he pressed his forehead into yours, taking in the beauty of your bright eyes and swollen lips. Everything wandering his mind, making a path right into his cold heart was right in front of him.

“You.”

—

Knocking Professor Xavier's door, you walked inside as soon as his voice announced to come in. You caught your breath seeing Logan by his desk. He just gave you a quick, accomplice glimpse and left the room, closing the door behind. The exchange of glances wasn’t unnoticed by Charles.

“Here’s the report on my subject for this last semester, Professor,” you announced, leaving the folder on the wooden desk.

“Thank you. How’s Logan doing?” he asked all of a sudden, checking the door the man had crossed just seconds ago.

“Excuse me?”

“Do you believe he is comfortable helping the kids?” the old man asked again. He was seeing right through you, and you kind of hated every time he used to do that to you. Nothing could be hidden from Xavier; definitely you couldn’t hide a single thing for the man who took you in decades ago.

“Why would I know that?”

He shrugged it off. “Well, you seem very close lately.”

Close was not the best word to describe your relationship with Logan. Yet, you were sleeping on his bed just the night before. The trace of his kisses, the burn of his beard on your skin, his teeth biting softly your breasts, his rough hands all over your hips… Every touch he left on your body you could still feel it, and you wanted to think he was not just using you. During the past weeks, you were together. Not quite a relationship-thing was established properly, but it was the closest thing any of you could have as for now.

It was a mixture of grief, pain, and hope that had you both still standing. In the end, you understood what he felt. Being alone and alive for so long and then finding a place where people accepted you for who you were was a whole change, even if some years passed by. Though, the time Logan had been spending at the school was nothing but a blink of an eye compared to his past.

“What happened to our team is still affecting us,” you finally said. “I believe we are good friends, yes, we’ve been supporting each other. And he doesn’t know how to deal with the students yet most of the time, but I try to walk him through it.”

Xavier hummed, smiling at the corner of his lips as he eyed the folder you handed him. “I bet you both do.Thanks for bringing your report on time, as always, and I apologize if I am being intrusive. Just please be careful with the noises both of you make at night, we have kids around here.”

Shit.

You swallowed your pride right there and simply gave a nod, feeling the heat burning up your face.

“Will do, Professor.”

—

A loud gasp escaped your lips as you held for dear life on his broad shoulders, hips snapping against your own. His pace was reckless, keeping you on the edge of sin. Grunts mixed with sweet moans, skin hitting skin again and again every time you felt his cock inside you. If possible, your nails could have already left visible scars and marks on his back, scratching and bleeding off his skin as he fucked you senseless.

Logan sucked on the bare skin on your neck, inhaling your scent, feeling your walls clenching around his girth, his hands roughly grabbing the sides of your hips as you moaned his name, over and over, under the moonlight. He looked at you intensely with loving eyes when you came underneath him, eyes flashing that familiar bright light every time a powerful orgasm hit your body. The vulnerable sight of your figure shaking, eyes closing slowly and biting your lip to keep the pretty noises low, made him reach the sweetest high.

With a grunt, he leaned to attack your lips in a heated, wet kiss to moan against your mouth. Logan pulled back to press butterfly kisses on your jaw, until he reached your breasts, feeling himself soften inside your wet heat. His hips were still thrusting just enough to fill you up at a gentle rhythm. Marking you his and only his.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he mumbled against the sensitive skin of your chest. “Remind me why we’re here again.”

You chuckled softly, fingers tangling on his disheveled hair. You just had prepared a small date night out at the shores of a beautiful lake in the woods. No one could bother you if you were alone, and since your relationship was not so secret anymore, you needed him in a place that wasn’t the school. So here you were, laying on your back, fully naked on the picnic blanket, with the Wolverine between your legs, enjoying the calmness of the water, the green grass, the crickets singing around, and the cold of the night.

“Privacy perhaps?” you whispered as his eyes locked on yours.

Softly you touched his cheek with the palm of your hand and he rolled both of you over, until you laid on top of him, legs straddling his waist and your arms on his shoulders to sit on his lap. Silence took over, his hands soothing your hips and the marks he left on your body from the intense love-making.

“I’m so happy we took a couple of days off…”

You waited for Logan to say something. Anything. You wanted to continue, to tell him how you really felt. Instead, you decided it was better leaving it like this. Logan gave you a nod, pulling you for a short kiss.

“Yeah. Me too.”

He wanted to say it out loud, but was too scared to do so.

—

2006

After a couple of long years, the school and the team had to learn how to go through the grief and pain Jean left. Logan had a hard time processing it, just like all your teammates, specially Scott, and of course the students. It didn’t stop you from moving on as time went by though, always remembering her for the great person and mind she was. Going forward and keeping fighting is what she would’ve wanted for everyone, even now that a certain cure for mutants was announced to the public.

You tried to continue your life as a professor at the school, training students, leading young people, and you invited and encouraged Logan to do so countless times. Deep inside, you wished it was you the reason why Logan decided to stay and train young mutants - for you to be the answer to his loneliness. That he knew, for once and all, that he was not alone. You got each other, and you could do something about it. Words unspoken said more than anything, at least you thought so.

It was one of those rare nights where you got some time for yourselves, walking around the city after having a nice and calm dinner. Your shoulders brushed against each other while you walked downtown, your hands hiding inside the pockets of your jacket, protecting them from the cold.

There was a lot on your mind lately, thinking about what you two really were. If there was a stronger feeling in between, or if it was solely because he enjoyed your company and that was it. Both had lived enough to know there was a feeling in the middle. It wasn’t just friends with benefits, or co-workers who sleep together three times a week. Something was blooming deep inside you, but you tried to not give it a lot of attention all those years. Still, it felt like it had to be addressed sooner or later, and this could be the time. In the end, you understood each other perfectly. How painful it was, how living longer than anyone was, how you had to leave everything and everyone behind because you were dangerous…

“Have you ever wondered how’d it feel to have a normal life?” your question came out all of the sudden.

“How come?” He looked at you from the corner of his eye.

You didn’t know if his gaze was judging you but you continued anyway.

“Like living a normal amount of years��� Not having these things, genes that make us different. Or special…”

Logan suddenly stopped in his tracks and grabbed your arm softly so you could lock eyes together as he asked. “You’re not thinking of getting that damn cure, aren’t you?”

“Of course not!”

“Then why’d you think that?”

“Because I never had anyone in my life, Logan,” you spat, pulling your arm away from his grip. “I’ve been alive for so long but I can’t promise myself a future. A real one. Not anything, it doesn’t matter if I live forever. Every person I loved before perished.”

Those words shook him out of the rough façade showing on his face. Your gaze told a hundred different stories when he studied your face every time. It was like mirroring himself at some point. You were the first person he ever got to know that has lived as long as he has, and maybe it was the sentimentalism, but he tried to push away those wishes of settling down. Of trying to be normal. Because he was not, and maybe, just maybe, you just didn’t accept it like he did. Probably, he was just giving up. But you weren’t, even after hundreds of years of disgrace continuously happening.

“I thought you’d get this, Logan.”

You mumbled, taking him out of his trance.

“Well, I do, in a way,” he said, but sounded more like an excuse for himself.

“Then why don’t you say it?”

“Wha-”

“Just say it,” you repeated and pointed between you and him. “What is this for you? What are we?”

Logan grabbed on your shoulders gently and leaned towards you, stealing a kiss on the sidewalk, a kiss you obliged with a bittersweet feeling for some reason, but then he whispered. “Darling, you’re everything to me now.”

Yet, you smiled and kissed him back, feeling his lips curve against your own. Well, that wasn’t so hard was it?

—

Needless to say, after the last date, your relationship with Logan had evolved to something more domestic, considering you lived together in your workplace. Affection, holding hands, quick kisses were shared now a little more freely, and you had received a couple of jokes and teases from some students and Storm. But it was fine as long as you had cleared your path with Logan, even if he didn’t act like a partner sometimes.

The certain calmness you felt one day disappeared when Logan and Ororo went to look for Scott, who often had these sad thoughts, and since Jean was his partner, it was thoroughly complicated for him to say the least. When Logan and Ororo came back to the mansion, it was not what you expected to see. Jean was alive and Scott was gone.

It hurted you, knowing first hand that their love wouldn’t be anymore. You met both of them when they were so young, becoming something like their mentor when they used to learn how to control their powers and how to fit in this world that loathed mutants to death. Now, the school was something else. It was a big, special place that was not the same without the brains of Jean, or the enthusiasm and leadership of Scott. Things were different, they had to change because the circumstances told so, and everyone had a difficult time adapting to it. One thing after another left you tired, with no option to run away, even if you wanted to. The complicated circumstances and the relationship you shared with Logan were no help either.

While on your way to check on Jean, who was still under observation after a couple of days, you stopped in your tracks when the heavy door of the med bay slid. Logan, looking all out of his daily self and mad, found you at the entrance, and you felt something different emanating from him.

For what you could see behind him, Jean was still asleep, and the Professor called Logan to come back with a serious voice, but he ignored the older man, instead approaching you.

“You knew, didn’t you?” Logan grasped your arm, his tone lower and deeper than usual.

You quickly pulled off his grip and hissed. “What are you talking about?”

“Jean.”

You felt silent. Of course she was anything he could think of since they found her.

“You knew he was controlling her,” Logan went on and your heart skipped a beat.

The look in your eyes told everything but lies. Logan scoffed and walked away, leaving you standing alone under Professor Xavier’s gaze.

“I’ll talk to him,” you mumbled at your mentor before following Logan, trying to keep his pace until he reached his room.

The whole way you tried to keep it professional, greeting students as normally you would, but when you crossed his door it was impossible to continue with the facade.

“Logan-”

“He’s insane,” he snapped, putting his jacket on and taking his bag out.

“Everything that was done was meant to protect her,” you responded calmly as he placed a handful of clothes inside the bag.

“No, you did it because you are disgusting. I bet this is what should’ve been for me if I refused to cooperate with your circus or something.”

“You don’t know what she is capable of-”

“Yeah, well I don’t wanna hear it anymore. This is so fucked up, even for you,” he continued, bag on his hand taking long strides until you were almost touching noses. 

You scoffed, trying to laugh at the irony. “What does that even mean? Do you know how horrible it is to be controlled by the Phoenix inside her?.”

Logan rolled his eyes, not wanting to hear another poor excuse. You continued anyway, looking straight in his eyes before he could leave you hanging with your own words. Exactly like he used to do every damn time when you had an argument. Today, he wouldn’t run away that fast.

“She could kill you in a second and won’t hesitate. For her, we’re nothing. We’re not rivals, we can’t do shit. The only thing we could do was keep her alter ego somewhere hiding inside her mind, or else we wouldn’t be here arguing about something you never witnessed. Because I did and you don’t wanna see that, trust me,” you spat at him. He breathed rage at your words and you knew that it was getting on his nerves seeing the way his hands turned to fists. “And you think this version of her cares for you? Or that she loves you? Jean is gone now, Logan, fucking get over it.”

With last harsh words, you turned around and left the room, closing the door with a thud. 

Logan breathed out. He wanted to scream, hit something, run away… Anything to let it out. He was a reckless mess but how could he react and accept Charles was playing with Jean’s mind? And you fucking knew all this time and didn’t say anything? Were his feelings dirty on him right now? Probably. Shit, he took years to finally tell you the truth about his love and affection towards you. He spent months trying to find the right words just to say ‘I love you’, and still, it seemed it wasn’t enough. The forbidden love he felt for Jean never disappeared, and he felt guilty for it.

—

You walked down to the med bay after calming down for a bit. You only needed to check on Jean for a moment and see how she was doing. Years prior, you had witnessed what the Phoenix was capable of, so you didn’t really question Charles’ methods when it came to hide this dangerous side of her inside her mind. You also thought your words might have been a little harsh on Logan, but it was the truth. He didn’t know who the Phoenix was and, if his feelings for Jean resurfaced after believing her being dead, then it wasn’t on you. As much as you loved him, as much as you tried and somehow managed to move on together, he was so easily dragged to her.

The anger you felt before took over you once again, as you found the metal doors of the lab in debris. Quickly, you made your way inside the room and found Jean wasn’t there and that Logan was lying unconscious on the floor. You knelt down by his side, calling him over and over and touching his face and shaking his shoulders until he finally opened his eyes slowly, coming back to reality.

“Logan, what happened?”

“She… she killed Scott. The Phoenix,” he whispered. You could tell he was a little weak and out of breath.

“You’re lucky she just ran away,” you pointed out, helping him to sit down. His eyes were lost in the mess in the room. Tools were destroyed, test tubes broken, crystal was everywhere, and Jean left the reminder of kissing him, yet again, before she escaped. God, he felt so idiotic.

“I’m sorry,” Logan said, looking at you. “Sorry for being a jerk. It’s my fault.”

Taking his cheeks between your hands, you gave him a reassuring look. “We’re gonna find her, okay?”

He nodded. “Yeah, we’ll find her.”

“Come here, we need to alert Charles,” you said, helping him to stand up.

Inside, you knew he wouldn’t really need your help. He was strong and indestructible like the metal on his skull, but he seemed really taken back, and you decided to stay by his side, holding his hand strongly as a way to say sorry as well. It was kind of difficult to see Logan in that state of mind, confused and lost, and you wondered what had happened back there in the lab as you left him in his bedroom, ordering him to rest for a while.

“I’ll be right back,” you assured him with loving eyes.

Logan nodded, following your figure stepping out the room and disappearing in the hallway.

He let out a breath he didn’t know was holding. His mind was having a hard time and his heart felt like breaking, going in two opposite directions, and he hated himself for that. His fate was always the same: losing people he loved and cared for dearly. So seeing Jean back again was as if god or anything up there remembered he existed and brought her back just for him. Or maybe he was just being selfish because he already had you.

You were everything for him. A couple of years might be just a short glimpse for both of you, but he was able to feel peace and calm next to you, and he was sure you did as well. Because some nights, that was all you could talk about. Logan didn’t mind hearing you for hours, it reminded him he was alive. With you, but his stupid instinct had to act.

It was his fault Jean had left. The kiss, the whole act of embracing each other’s bodies for at least two minutes, and then her breakdown, begging for him to kill her… All of that was enough to bring out the beast inside her. And he felt such a jerk now for following his desires. He already had you. Wasn’t that enough?

His thoughts were interrupted once you arrived again, finding him sitting at the end of the bed exactly as you had left him there. Sensing something different on him, you sat down by his side and rubbed his hand gently.

“We might know where she’s going,” you whispered.

“I’ll go,” Logan said before you could finish.

“I’m not sure if I should ask, but are you okay? You could do some rest,” you suggested, since seeing the redhead was clearly getting some kind of reaction from him.

“No, I need to go,” he said. But Logan could read your face perfectly, and he knew you didn’t really like the idea of him leaving the mansion. You turned your eyes, scanning the room and avoiding his gaze.

You had the need to ask what exactly had happened back there with Jean, but you didn’t want to start a fight either. Feeling Logan’s hand on your shoulder, he leaned to kiss your forehead goodbye. Maybe you were the one who should stay, check the kids, the school…

“It’ll be fine,” he mumbled, voice low and deep, as if trying to convince you, but himself as well. You nodded with your arms around his neck, giving him a hug that felt like some sort of apology you weren’t able to say out loud. “Don’t worry, it’ll be fine.”

And how you’d wish things would be fine.

—

The school has been very quiet lately. Too silent even for his taste. At nights like these, he could still feel the vigor and presence of the students running around, grabbing something to eat, planning to go out for a while... Instead, Logan found himself in a place that was mourning. Grieving the loss of Jean, Scott and Charles.

The feelings inside were complicated. He didn’t really feel the same, and the disgrace and remorse of his actions were growing on him. They were still haunting him; every day, every single night. You knew it too. It was impossible to ignore the nightmares each time he woke up from seeing Jean’s lifeless body fall against his own after he gave what she wished for the most: death.

And then, there was you. He noticed how difficult it was getting for you to sleep. You tried to hide your sorrow into your work, studying even more, keeping yourself busy with the school and not thinking about anything else. Since Charles was gone, Ororo took his place and you were her second hand. But you pushed yourself too hard.

Tonight he found your bedroom empty. He didn’t find you on his either, so he went to the place he knew you would be: your classroom. The door was half opened, the dim light of the lamp on your desk barely illuminated the papers on the surface. He found you deeply concentrated reading on something, hands on the sides of your head hiding your face.

“Hey,” he softly mumbled, stepping inside the empty classroom.

You quickly straightened yourself on the chair, wiping your cheeks and tried to look decent for a moment.

“Hey,” you replied back, low voice.

“Come to bed,” he said, coming to stand before you, his hand on your shoulder comforting and soothing you, making its way to the side of your neck. His big palm on your cheek, caressing the skin stained with your tears as if it was the most delicate thing. He took a look at the mess of papers and old books you loved too much to get rid of, scattered on the wooden surface.

“No, I- I can’t. Need to finish these by tomorrow…”

Logan gave you a nod and a grimace before taking your hand, motioning to come closer. You stood up, knowing he was trying to get you out of the work that was consuming you.

He observed every feature on your face, the sadness in your stare couldn’t be hidden. He just knew you too well, just like the palm of his hand, and he wanted to make you forget. At least for a little. You had taken care of him, helped him with your presence and your unique aura, bringing him comfort and peace to his broken mind. He wanted you to be fine. To feel loved.

Logan leaned just exactly to brush his lips with your own, teasing a kiss that he longed too much, his hands around your waist pulling you towards him.

“Can you just let me take care of you?” 

Swallowing hard the knot on your throat, you curled your lips as much as the grief let you. “Yes,” you nodded.

With this, Logan leaned until your lips connected. Your arms around his neck pulled him as closer as you could get, feeling his chest against your own, his strong hands around your waist, softly touching you above your clothes.

Logan slowly walked you until your back hit the desk, hands roaming on your ass down to your legs, placing you to sit down over the loose pages. It might ruin the work a little, but none of you cared. Everything in your head was him, between your legs, running his wet mouth down your jaw, his stubble burning your skin as you gasped gently. Lying on your back on the desk, he began descending down your breasts, unbuttoning your blouse until he exposed you to the cold of the room.

He stopped right on your trousers, and gave you a quick glance. You were so eager, wet already. He could sense it. Your eyes were glowing and you were already trying to catch your breath by just his kisses and touch.

“You locked the door?” you whispered.

“Damn right I did,” he voiced, hoarse and low voice from just thinking of railing you right there and then.

“Then don’t stop.”

At your command, he unzipped your trousers, letting them fall down along with your heels on the floor. He then leaned to take your lips in a sloppy kiss, more urgent this time of feeling you close. You moaned, nails scratching his skin. His calloused hands explored your bare legs and things, creating friction with his hips with slow, controlled thrusts against your crotch. Logan left a trail of kisses down to your breasts, licking and tasting the saltiness of your body.

You urged him to go down where you ached the most, hand tangling on his hair. His hands grabbed the back of your thighs, spreading to him until his nose was almost buried on your panties, smelling and taking the sweetness of your scent, licking softly with his wet tongue over the fabric. A trail of moans and curses left your lips. He pulled your panties aside before diving in your pussy, licking your folds and teasing your hole with two of his fingers.

“Logan…”

His name repeatedly left your mouth like a plea, his fingers now inside you, stretching your walls for him. The noises grew obscene and nasty as he ate you out like a sweet craving he had been denying himself the pleasure for so long.

He was growing hard just by hearing your whimpers, and he needed you. You always were a fucking longing for him. Your words, your intelligence, your beauty… Everything he needed, you had it. And still, he didn’t have any idea of how such a rational, smart woman like you learned to love him so deeply.

You tugged on his hair, hips thrusting up to meet his growling mouth. You were so close, felt almost there where you wanted, but he pulled away before you finished.

Logan unzipped his jeans leaning back, admiring your blissed out eyes and glistened figure.

“Come here,” you begged in a whisper, tangling your legs around his waist.

He let out a low, dirty chuckle, feeling your hands on his boxers, freeing his erection.

“So fucking eager,” Logan breathed kissing your lips, hands supporting his weight at the sides of your head on the desk.

You tasted yourself within the kiss and you moaned at his words, your hand pumped him just enough to feel his pre cum leaking already, lining his dick with your cunt. Inch by inch, he entered slowly so you could get used to his size. Logan pecked your lips gently, kissing your cheeks and the side of your neck to get into your sensitive skin. You tugged on his white shirt so he could remove it and he ripped your bra apart right after. He loved to feel your chest pressed against his own. You gasped but paid no mind, instead urging him to move inside you.

“Shit, Logan please-”

A particular harsh trust caught your breath on your throat. You held onto dear life with your hands on his shoulders. He pounded into you rock hard and deep. So damn deep the desk was shrieking under, papers fell off and the lamp moved at the same rhythm but you hoped it won’t break.

Logan growled, inhaling your scent and tasting the sweat forming on your collarbone, your breasts bouncing against his chest. He felt your nails trailing down his back, and oh, how he wished he could get damn scars on just by fucking you like this. But the view of you, squirming under him, eyes closed, being a whimpering mess… All because of him. He was so insanely in love with your fucked out expression every time.

Your walls clenched, close to the sweet end. Logan felt himself twitching inside your warm pussy and his thrusts were getting erratic and sloppy. He filled you up, reaching his own climax first, hot white ropes of cum painting your insides. Your pussy milked him all the way as he kept spliting you open until you let yourself go, legs trembling around his waist. 

For a moment, you stayed like this, with him kissing your shoulder and caressing your thigh, taking in the aftermath of your intense lovemaking.

“Thank you…”

Your whisper forced him to look up at you. There it was, that loving, sweet gaze you had reserved just for him.

He nodded, palm on your jaw holding you gently. “Of course…”

For some reason, he wanted to voice out for once those stupid three words.

I love you.

Or at least hoped you would do it first.

—

The night was cold under the moonlight, almost freezing. He wondered how he got trapped there, between the messy, withered shrubbery, fog, and the trees of a forest he never recalled knowing. He was alert, senses to the limit in case something might attack him. He felt as if he was being watched, but there were no eyes he could find around. He couldn’t see much like that.

But then a voice started to call his name from afar, claws coming out immediately as he sharpened his senses to find the owner. One, two, three times he heard, trying to find the person who was calling but there was only darkness. His heart skipped a beat when someone spoke behind him.

“Logan…”

He turned on his feet and he felt like dying again. “Jean?”

He withdrew his claws back immediately. The redhead smiled, coming closer until she touched his cheek with a soft hand before pulling away. “How are you, Logan?”

“What-”

“Are you happy now?” she asked, beaming brightly as if they were in a casual conversation instead of the darkness of the woods.

His brows furrowed. She couldn’t be real. She wasn’t there with him. Jean was gone, he had killed her because it was what she wanted. It was her way out to get what she needed; it was the key to her freedom…

“What do you mean?”

“With her… Be careful. You could kill her. Just like me,” Jean whispered, tears forming in her eyes.

Logan stepped back, trying to get away. He shook his head in disbelief, not knowing exactly why Jean was saying this to him.

“No… You’re not real…”

“Everything you love is destined to death and chaos, Logan. You shouldn’t be there,” Jean continued, her eyes switching from her usual tone to a deep black. The ground began trembling under their feet with each step of her, wind building up around. Logan felt truly scared, but somehow he couldn’t run, just stand there as she approached. “All she will know is a life of suffering if you stay. She doesn’t need that.”

“Jean-”

“She doesn’t need you!”

“Jean!”

And then it happened so fast. His claws buried on her chest, the Phoenix disappearing and leaving her to die. Jean collapsed against his body and Logan reminisced about the events of that battle, where he had to choose to be selfish or liberate her from her own demons. Logan wasn’t sure why he stabbed her like this. And when he thought Jean was dead in his arms, she started to call his name again. This time, he heard it far away.

Logan.

Logan.

Logan…

Logan!

His eyes went wide open. And there you were, by his side on the bed, calling for him with a pain grimace on your face. His claws buried on your stomach.

“Logan…” you gasped and he pulled the claws out, but you were already bleeding, your nightshirt and the mattress stained.

“Shit, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry- I-”

“It’s okay,” you managed to say as he caressed your cheek before taking you in his arms hurriedly and quickly made the way out of your room through the halls. “The nightmares… I know, Logan…”

“God, I’m so sorry, please forgive me. Hank!” Logan stood outside the scientist’s door. “Hank, I need your help!”

The commotion caused some of the students to peek from their doors, and Logan waited outside what he felt it was forever under the gazes of the teenagers. It wasn’t the first time he had caused the same accident. The door opened, finally revealing a sleepy Hank putting his glasses on.

There was no need to explain what had happened.

—

“She’ll be stable soon,” Hank informed once he let Logan inside the med bay. “If you hadn’t brought her soon…”

Logan swallowed the knot on his throat, watching your unconscious figure on the stretcher. You already had received blood to cover up what you lost because of the wounds, and Logan’s claws were not minor weapons. His mind was a mess, confusion taking over. He didn’t know how he let this happen. He had nightmares pretty often, yes, but nothing like this.

Maybe Jean was right. Maybe she was trying to warn him about something. Or Jean was just trying to protect you from him. The last one felt more realistic. Logan wouldn’t hurt you, not ever. You talked about how dangerous it was to sleep together not so long ago, but you had insisted on staying. It was the first time something felt so damn real in his dreams and he wished you wouldn’t let him in your room that night…

“She’ll wake up, right?” Logan asked.

“Absolutely,” Hank nodded. “I will need to monitor her vital signs though, hopefully within a day or two she will be normal again… At least she’ll be stable until the wounds heal completely.”

Of course, Logan thought. You didn’t have a healing factor just like him.

“I’ll be right back,” Hank announced before stepping out of the room, leaving Logan alone.

He felt so guilty for doing this to you. For everything. For being the cause of your suffering now. He was a threat and mentally unstable. He was strong thanks to his genes, but he was weak on the inside. He promised countless times to protect you, but he couldn’t avoid hurting you himself. It didn’t matter that it was a very bad dream that felt disgustingly real, he had failed and hurted someone who truly loved. Again.

Taking your hand gently into his, he leaned to plant a kiss on your forehead, wishing it would be just another game from his mind.

But it wasn’t. Now, he had the person he loved the most lying unconscious and hurted because he would let his darkest thoughts consume him.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, watching you sleep peacefully. “I should have said it sooner.”

-

PART TWO

[ghsface]

I knew it, i know you... - Matt Sturniolo

Sumary: You return to a place in the past, where memories and guilt haunt you as you find your ex, facing what you could never let go of.

Warnings: angst, break up, insecurities (on the part of the protagonist) guilt, no happy ending, I think that's all.

A/n: This is my first time writing angst, I really enjoyed doing it so I'll probably start writing more angst, I hope you like it and tell me what you think, I was inspired by one of my favorite songs by Gracie I hope you like it. by the way I'm sorry if there's something wrong or that you don't understand, my first language is not English.

⛧°。 ⋆༺ ✮ ༻⋆。 °⛧

That night, the restaurant's atmosphere was familiar and welcoming, full of memories you'd rather leave buried. You were there, surrounded by your friends, laughing, talking, and trying to forget that this was the place you always came to with Matt. From the moment you walked through the door, you tried to focus on anything but the memories, knowing full well that something as simple as a glance at the corner where you used to sit could shatter you.

You laughed, enjoyed the dessert, and pretended that the empty chair in front of you didn't remind you of him, of Matt, the love of your life. The one you'd let go because you believed you didn't deserve the happiness he gave you. You'd been so trapped in your insecurities, in doubts you didn't even know how to express, that the only escape you found was to end the relationship. "It's better this way," you told yourself. "It's the best for both of us." You kept repeating to yourself

As your friends began to gather their things and pay their bills, you knew the night was coming to an end and you couldn't help but feel a certain anxiety. They apologized for having to leave, and you smiled at them in an attempt at reassurance. "I'm fine, girls. Enjoy your night." And as soon as they left, you were left alone, wondering if you should also pay your bill and leave to avoid any chance of running into him.

But that was when you saw him. Or rather, you saw them. First it was Nick, who recognized you instantly and gave you a look that you pretended not to notice. He looked away, but you knew he had seen you. However, the illusion of being invisible crumbled when you looked up again and your eyes met Chris, who was now also watching you. You tried to concentrate on your dessert, as if you were suddenly on a mission to finish it as quickly as possible, while feeling the weight of their gazes.

Finally, it was Matt who looked at you. You knew it without even looking up. His presence was unmistakable, the same effect he had on you before, only now it was accompanied by a pang of pain and shame. His eyes were on you, but there was no such sparkle as before, that spark that once made you feel like the most important person in his world...

You sighed, putting the spoon aside and taking a break. You needed air. You calmly stood up and headed to the bathroom, forcing yourself not to turn around or look at him. As you walked, memories began to come back, and it was as if the bathroom became a portal to all those things you thought you had overcome. You closed your eyes and suddenly you were there again, on that first day.

Flashbacks...

It was summer, just another day in the park where you spent hours talking. Matt seemed anxious, and you, without knowing why, felt that nervousness reflected in you.

“I’ve been thinking…” Matt paused, staring at your intertwined hands, then looked up to meet yours. “I don’t want to think anymore. Just… will you be my girlfriend?”

A blush had crept up your face, and you were surprised by the intensity with which you had responded.

“Yeah. Of course I will, Matt.” A nervous laugh escaped your lips, and he hugged you, so tightly that it made you feel like you would never need anything else.

The memory changed, and suddenly you were in his living room, fighting in an impromptu pillow fight, laughing like never before, while Chris and Nick complained about the noise from the kitchen.

“Come on, Matt!” you yelled, throwing a pillow at him. “Is that all you got?”

“You think so? Start running babe,” he replied, his mischievous smile lighting up his face as he dodged another blow and lunged at you, trapping you in his arms. The warmth of his hands on your shoulders and the laughter you shared filled the room with an energy that only existed between the two of you.

But then, the memory quickly changed. It was him, frowning, looking at you with concern. “What’s wrong? Why are you so distant?” he asked you sweetly and with a hint of desperation. And you, instead of opening up, lowered your head and muttered a “It’s nothing” that tasted like a lie.

He asked you the same thing over and over again. “It hurts me to see you like this, but… I don’t know how to help you if you don’t tell me.” He said with pain in his voice

You couldn't give him an answer, and the frustration in his eyes became unbearable. He had always tried to be there, but you were sinking into a confusion and despair that you didn't know how to explain.

"Matt..." you had murmured, looking at him without words, knowing that every second of silence hurt more than anything else you could say. He took your hands, trying to comfort you, but the weight of your own thoughts was like a barrier you couldn't cross.

Despite his attempts, his tenderness, his patience, you sank into your own insecurities, building a wall that he never managed to tear down.

The last day you saw him, the day everything broke, was engraved in your memory like an open wound. He was standing in front of you, his eyes full of pain, but you stood firm.

"I can't keep doing this to you," you had said, as if it were the easiest thing in the world. He stayed silent, as if those words were a blow to his stomach.

“Really? That easy for you?” he said, and his voice was a mix of disbelief and sadness.

You distanced yourself from him, unable to bear the pain you caused, but you knew you couldn’t keep dragging him down with you. You couldn’t keep making him suffer for something you didn’t even know how to explain.

“Yes, Matt. I’m sorry, but I have to,” you said, and as he remained silent, you let him go.

Then, the inevitable. You ignored his calls, his texts, and not just his, but also those from Chris and Nick, your best friends. You didn’t want to face them, what you had done, the guilt you felt. You chose silence as a refuge, despite knowing how much it hurt them.

End of flashbacks…

You took a deep breath, opening your eyes, trying to stifle the memories. You left the bathroom and, just as you tried to go back to your table, you heard Nick’s voice calling you.

“Hey! It’s you!”

You turned around, feigning forced surprise. “Oh, Nick! Hi!”

“I can’t believe you’re here,” Chris said, joining the conversation, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. But there was an intensity in his words that made you hesitate.

“Yeah, well… coincidence, I guess,” you replied, laughing nervously. You avoided looking at Matt, who was silent, staring at his glass as if it were the only thing in the world.

Nick smiled at you, approaching you with that warmth you had always appreciated in him. “How have you been?” Chris asked, trying to keep the conversation going.

“Fine, just… living life, I guess,” I replied, the words coming out almost without thinking.

Matt was still sitting in his chair, making no move to talk to you. You felt the weight of his indifference, and an unbearable guilt enveloped you. How could you do this to him? How could you leave without giving him a chance to understand?

You began to chat casually, as if it were a reunion between old friends and not a constant reminder of unhealed wounds. You felt the topic everyone wanted to avoid was obvious.

Matt, however, remained silent, barely looking at you. You knew he was aware of your presence, but he didn't say a word to you. Guilt weighed on your chest, every second intensifying the pain you had tried to bury.

After a while, the atmosphere began to become uncomfortable. You smiled at them and excused yourself, trying to escape from that place that seemed to collapse on you, knowing that it was time to leave. You walked to the cashier, paid your bill, and before leaving, you turned to look at them one last time.

There was Matt, with those eyes that always seemed capable of seeing beyond your words. In that look, full of sadness and nostalgia, you understood that the wound would never completely heal. Those eyes that loved you, that once were everything to you, were now filled with a sadness that you could never erase.

You knew that you would never forgive yourself for what you had done, you would never forgive yourself for what you did, but deep down, you knew that maybe you couldn't have done it any other way, you had done it for him, for yourself. Still, the pain was still there, like a constant echo. And when you left, a part of you was left behind, lost in the memory of what could have been.

You'll never be able to let Matt go. And maybe, he won't either.

You left the restaurant, taking with you the echo of their glances, the memories, and the weight of a story that, one way or another, would always remain unfinished.

⛧°。 ⋆༺ ✮ ༻⋆。 °⛧

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated dearly, and feel free to leave a request ✮

Tags... @matthewsroses @dominicfikeenthusiast @louipartridge @sophand4n4 @bsturnzmtt <3

[kaliforniahigh]

Oooh you got any Jolly Thots?

Oh, yeah. I got them!! If anyone wants to send in their Jolly thots, my ask is open!

Warning: this is very angsty and there is no happy ending :( Also smut (p in v). Jolly is kind of a jackass in this, sorry.

WC: 1.4k

Jolly had you on your kness, back pressed against his chest as he pounded into you from behind. You could feel his breath on your neck, and the feeling of his hand pulling on your ponytail.

It was always like this. He'd call you, tell you he's feeling lonely and longing for you. You'd tell him to come over, only to have your heart broken over and over again.

When he had you like this, though, it was like the feeling of rejection didn't exist for a while.

"You love this, don't you? Me inside of you", he murmured in your ear, you only moaned in response. There was a time when you entertained his praises, but not anymore. Instead, you wished he'd just fuck and stay quiet.

He lets your hair go and you fall on your hands on the bed. His pace picks up and you can tell he's close by the way he's gripping your hips. He starts rubbing circles on your clit, and you're right there with him.

You hate the it feels so good, you hate the way he always seems to know what to do get make you fall apart for him. The way he hits all the right spots.

You wish he was as good with feelings as he is fucking you.

Seconds later, he's spilling inside the condom, with a grunt. And your shaking underneath him, knees giving out as lay sprawled on your bed.

You both take a few seconds to recover, and the part you dread the most is about to happen. Again.

You can hear him going into the bathroom, to discard the condom and wash his hands, you guess. You stay on the bed, now laying on your back and pulling the covers up to your chest.

There was also a time when you felt comfortable with him seeing you naked on the back after you finished. Now, you just felt kind of cheap. With how detached you've both become, the only thing missing was him slapping a couple of tens on your bedside table before leaving.

"Folio is having a party on Saturday. He says he wants to celebrate his new collaboration with TAMA", he tells you as he pulls his boxers on.

"Yeah, he told me", you responded with a detached tone to your voice. Watching him redress.

"You going?", he asked you.

"I'll see"

He only hummed in response. Grabbing his wallet and looking back at you.

"I'll see you on Saturday then. If you go", he opened the door of your bedroom.

"Yeah"

On Saturday, you found yourself knocking on the door to the boys' house. You pondered a lot over the week if you even wanted to go. But decided that your little situationship with Jolly shouldn't drift you apart from your other friends.

Besides, you were determined to ignore him tonight.

You guessed he wasn't there yet when you arrived, because you surveyed the place, but didn't find him. Good, you hope he wouldn't come, you wished to yourself, but knew that wouldn't be true, because he wouldn't miss celebrating his friend.

You were actually enjoying yourself and talking to people around you. You had a drink in your hand, but wanted to stay mostly sober for the night. Before, there was no problem with you getting drunk and spending the night at Jolly's room. Now, it just felt like you were overstaying your welcome.

Maybe an hour after you arrived, you could see two people entering the living room, when you looked in their direction, it was as if the whole world stopped spinning and the room became completely still.

There he was, dressed in all black, with a beautiful girl hanging on his arm.

You obviously knew he was fucking around with other girls, but he never actually brought them over to their house. Also, the fact that a few days ago, he was in your bed, fucking you, and now he was here, with a new girl, made your stomach twist.

Before he had the chance to come any closer to where you were standing, you turned around and made your way upstairs to the bathroom.

You closed the door behind you as you tried to calm your heartbeat that was pounding in your chest. You desperatly tried to think of an excuse to leave this party right now. You shouldn't have come in the first place.

After a couple of minutes, you decided to leave and then shoot Folio a text apologizing. You already had the chance to congratulate him, so that wouldn't look too bad.

Slipping out from the bathroom, you made your way through the living room with your head down, not wanting anyone to see you. Opening the front door, your stepped into the slight breeze blowing outside.

Taking a deep breath, you started to walk down the street to where your car was parked.

"Y/N", you heard a familiar voice behind you, but you didn't turn around, you didn't acknowledge him.

"Hey, where are you going?", he tried again, picking up his pace this time and walking beside you.

"I'm going home", you said, voice flat and devoid of any emotion. You tried to keep yourself in check, because you were sure if you stayed here any longer, you'd start crying like an idiot.

"Why? The party has just started".

Could he really not understand why you were leaving? Was he this dense? Instead of feeling sad, you were now feeling angry at his obliviousness.

"Are you fucking serious? Are you actually this stupid or do you just like to pretend that you are, so you don't have to own up to your mistakes?", the anger in your voice and fire in your eyes made him take a step back.

"Are you talking about?", he was wary now, but his eyes told you he knew exactly what you were talking about.

"Do you actually consider me your friend or do you just keep me around because I'm an easy fuck?", you were becoming tired of him dodging your questions.

"You're not an easy fuck. Please don't say it like that", he tried to take a step closer to you, but you took a step back, and he stayed in his place.

"Oh no? But you text me everytime already knowing I'll tell you to come over. You take advantage of the fact that you know I'm emotionally attached to you", you crossed your arms over your chest to try and protect your heart that was already broken in a million pieces.

"It was never supposed to be like this", he told you, and you desperately wanted him to stop making excuses.

"But it is. Next thing I know, you're going to be paying me for my services from how much a cheap transaction this has become"

Jolly just stood there, his eyes were wide and you could tell they were a little glossy from the way the light from the streetlamp hit his face.

"I'm so fucking sorry, You gotta believe me when I say I never meant to make you feel this way", his voice trembled a bit towards the end of his sentence. You could see a little glimpse of the old Jolly you met years ago.

"I'm not sure I believe anything that comes out of your mouth anymore", you stood your ground this time.

"I'm so fucking sorry", he looked down as he apologized to you. He couldn't even do it looking at your fucking face.

"Me too", you said as you fished your car keys from your pocket. "I'm going to delete your number, and I never want to speak to you ever again", now it was time for your voice to tremble. You were not only endind whatever you two had, but you were ending a friendship of years that developed into something neither of you could control or deal with. "Tell the boys I'll stop coming around"

With this last sentence, you turned around and walked the rest of the way to your car, now letting the tears fall freely from your eyes.

You unlocked your car and gor in the driver's seat. You told youself you wound't look back, but you couldn't helo but take a peek on the rear view mirror.

You Jolly sitting on the curb, you could tell his shoulders were shaking, and that his hands were covering his face.

Too bad, he should've shown some emotion all those times you desperately needed him to. With a shaky, deep sigh, you turned on your car and drove away from the most important people in your life.

[gremlin-girly]

Kinktober 19

Kinks: Praise/breeding

The Perfect Jotunn Bride Part 2

Tags/warnings: SMUT, macrophilia (bc he's still a giant), overstimulation, vaginal fingering, p in v, creampie, breeding kink, no beta, Loki (he's a warning), slight dub con, praise (good girl), Spitting, monster fucking (ig), monster cock, stomach bulge, multiple orgasm,

My warnings are non-exhaustive and likely I've missed some, please read at your own risk. And Minors do not interact!!

Summary: Following the night of your husband’s return, Loki finds your notes on the Jotun language and introduces you to a new way of studying.

Word count: TBA (on mobile sorry!)

A/N: did I only have 5 hours sleep and got back from work two hours ago? Yes. Did my phone post a fic I'm working on before it was ready again? Also yes. I'm very tired... so the mistakes are aplenty (probably). I'll fix them later (probably).

Translations are at the end! I used this little website so I apologise in advance if there are mistakes!

Part 1 | Part 2 (you're here!)

Prev | Next | Masterlist

Loki was awake before sunrise. The memories of the night before flitted in and out of his brain as he held your small form in his arms. You looked peaceful in this state; a welcome change from the worried, fearful or angry looks you usually sported.

Loki did consider pulling you tighter to him but didn't want to risk stirring you from your slumber, knowing you would likely be in a foul mood after the events of last night. His ruby eyes flitted to the corset in tatters next to the bed, making a mental note to get another that would fit a little better and look as equally beautiful.

After half an hour, he removed himself from you with a sigh, careful to keep from waking you. He'd not had chance to investigate you what you'd been working on and, after setting the fire alight, he reached for the nearest notebook you had left strewn on the floor, flicking through the pages.

Some of the script is random notes but other parts are words and phrases in Jotun, with colourful translations in Asgardian next time them. An unfamiliar warmth blossoms in Loki’s chest as he looks between your dreaming form and your notes, but a wicked smirk quickly appears as his plans for the morning change.

Loki treads back to the bed, re-taking his place next to you, discarding your notebook lazily to drape his arm over your waist.

“Wife,” Loki punctuates the word with a nuzzle into your neck, making you stir. Your eyes flutter and then you blink a few times, brows furrowing as you wake. Memories of the previous night crash through your brain and your eyes fly open fully, face flushing as you look over to your husband lying beside you with a mischevious gleam in his red eyes.

“Wife," He says again, voice low. "Have you been trying to learn Jotun?"

You attempt to gather the bed sheets around you, swamping yourself in warmth amd protection, but Loki’s giant cold arm prevents it. He instead looks down at you, waiting patiently for your response. Slowly, you nod your head.

"You know I can help teach you.” Loki murmurs into your ear. "And I can make it fun."

Your head tilts back slightly, eyes wide and Loki drinks in the sight. Your chest is heaving under the covers and your face is bright red at the thought of what fun Loki could possibly have in mind for you.

"Loki," You breathe. "Last night-"

"You were exquisite, wife." Loki’s eyes bore into yours and you feel as if you're shrinking, however, your body betrays you by making heat pool between your thighs at his praise. "And I want more. Especially now, knowing you've been learning my tongue."

“You’re so busy – I couldn’t ask you to-“

“We can start right now,” he purrs, his large hand tugging away the covers, exposing your naked form. Loki's tongue drags across his lips, and you remember just how well he'd teased you with it the night before and you shiver. "I'd forgo any amount of royal duties if it meant being buried in your sweet cunt."

You can't stop the short gasp that bubbles out of your throat and your eyes widen. You heart is running circuits, blood rushing heat everywhere. Loki’s words leave you skin like gooseflesh, your nipples pebbling at the thought despite your thoughts of him. You didn't even want to think of the way your pussy throbbed.

Loki seems to enjoy the sight before him, knowing you want more of last night's activities and knowing the effect his words have on your delicate Asgardian body. He runs his hand upwards to cup at one of your breasts rolling and tweaking at your nipple gently and you fight back moans.

"Does my wife like that idea?" He taunts in a whisper. "Being split open by your husband? You already wear my mark."

His chilled thumb runs over the love bite he'd left on the top of your breast the night before and he eyes it proudly. His eyes flicker to yours for a moment before he presses his face against yours, the heat of your skin warming his own.

Your own small hands inch up his strong arm that's holding you down, eyes quietly pleading but for what you weren't sure.

"Loki." You murmur to him as he nips at the sensitive skin on your neck.

“I’m going to say things to you in your Asgardian tongue and you will repeat it in Jotun for me.” Loki’s tone doesn't leave any room for argument and your chest heaves with a mixture of nerves and excitement. "Each correct answer will be rewarded.”

You press your legs together as another wave of heat flushes through you and try to look anywhere but at Loki as your cheeks redden with sudden shyness. Loki smirks and trails kisses along your shoulder and chest.

"Isn't that a good idea?" Loki lips gently kiss over your breasts, his cold tongue licking playfully at your pebbled nipples. “Don’t worry, we will start easy.”

Easy was numbers. Loki held you close to his side  to murmur numbers to you in Asgardian, ensuring you couldn’t move away. His free hand trailed over your body softly, at first.  After each answer he would shower you with praises, often giving piece of soft, warm flesh a squeeze before continuing to trail your sides again. Each time he’d squeeze, you found yourself making small noises, and by the time you had reached the number ten, you found yourself agreeing that this was  a far better way to learn than through children's books and notes.

When you reached fifteen, Loki’s fingers trailed down to your sex and tapped your clit, making you jolt in his arms. He continued to draw small, tight circles around the bundle of nerves to ensure you continued to whimper and grow more and more pliant.

“Good girl,” he cooed, kissing the top of your hair. “Isn’t this nice? Being rewarded for your good behaviour? Smart little wife.”

You can feel the dampness leaking from your core as Loki works his ministrations on your clit and you mewl into his shoulder, gripping his arm so hard your fingers ached. The brashness of your own sounds make you flood with shyness and shame. You were loving all of this newfound attention from Loki, even if you knew you shouldn't be.

When you reached twenty you were red faced and panting into Loki’s chest. He'd been horrifically slow saying the numbers, prolonging his torture of your clit. He knew exactly how to draw you to the edge and keep you there, before giving you moments of respite before bringing you right back to that edge. You were beginning to see stars and your pussy ached around nothing. You'd considered begging for his fingers, begging for some relief, but when your half-lidded, lust-glistened eyes met his you knew you'd get something far better than his fingers.

 "You've done so well for me, smăr einn." Loki says shifting to cage you against the mattress with his arms. His knees push your legs apart with ease and you gasp loudly when you feel the tip of his cock brush along your inner thigh. "Are you ready for your reward?"

When you nod Loki says dramatically. "Words, wife. Use your words." He sits back on his haunches and your eyes grow wide at the massive length standing tall between his legs. You swallow thickly, wondering how he'd manage to squeeze in to you... and your cunt flutters at the thought. Loki smirks down at you, pumping his cock a few times and then spitting onto your sensitive clit. "You know how much I like to hear you beg. Let me hear you say how much you want your husband."

Your voice dies in your throat when Loki runs the head of his thick cock from your spit covered clit, all the way down to your wet hole. He nudges it testingly with a curious look and you squeak a gasp. Your pussy flutters again and you can't think of anything else other than him being inside you.

"Come on wife," Loki teases with an edge of impatience. He taps his cock against your clit, watching you writhe beneath him in pleasure. "Imagaine how good it'll feel being full of my cum."

"Líka!" You cry out in Jotun, surprising both you and Loki; whose heart thuds harder in his chest. "Líka maðr!"

"Fast, wif." Loki huffs, rolling his hips slowly into yours. Your mouth is an open scream as Loki pushes into your tight hole, your pussy immediately constricting around his cock. Loki sighs, reaching a hand to toy with your clit again. You jerk at the sensation, his cool skin against your scorching heat never ceases to make your pussy wet.

You whimper as Loki’s cock finally reaches its hilt and Loki makes a loud, gravelly groan.

"Look at how well you take me," Loki urges, his voice breathless. His other hand goes to knead your breasts and your eyes flutter, glancing down. Loki’s hips are slotted between yours, his cock buried inside you as promised, but above where his hand rolls your clit, there's an obvious bulge.

Your pussy spasms at the sight, and Loki grins down at you, slowly moving his hips backwards and then forwards, allowing you to adjust to his size.

"Loki." You keen, heaving breaths beneath him. "I- fuck."

Loki huffs a chuckle, dragging his cock out before plunging back into your pussy. He'd been correct before, he'd gladly avoid royal duties to have you splayed out like this on his cock. You curse louder than before, almost screaming and gripping the covers beside you; Loki would have been concerned if your legs didn't spread wider and your cunt didn't gush the way it did over his cock. Spurred on to move faster, Loki picks up the pace, continuing to lavish your breasts and clit with attention that makes your eyes roll.

"You're doing so well," Loki pants. "Such a good girl for your husband. I can't wait to see my seed drip from your pretty little cunt."

Your walls clench down around Loki and he curses. He moves his arms forwards, interlacing his fingers with yours before leaning down, pressing you into the bed as he fucks into you.

"My wife," Loki growls into your neck. You're a moaning mess under him, but you manage to turn your face towards his; your lips kissing haphazardly until you find his lips. Loki’s hips stutter and his moan is smothered by your lips - the first true kiss you'd given him unprompted, unlike the forced kisses he'd managed to manipulate from you at your wedding or for social aspect but a real, genuine kiss.

"My husband," you whisper hoarsely back, breath hitching three octaves as another orgasm crashes through your body. "Loki!"

Loki grunts, his fingers almost crushing yours as your pussy to squeeze him tight and he pumps you full of his cream.

You're completely fucked out and breathless, your eyes flutter when you feel a cool hand against your flushed cheek turn your head and your heart stammers when Loki presses a sweet kiss against your lips.

"You were amazing," he whispers, brushing away hair that's stuck to your sweat-sheened face. "I think we should study a few times each day."

You give him a lopsided, cock-drunk grin; the first genuine smile you'd ever given him. "That sounds good to me."

---

Translations:

Smăr einn - Little One

Líka - Please

Maðr - husband

fast - certainly

[causenessus]

I HIT 30 TAGS WAYY TOO FAST BUT THIS WAS SO GOOD RYE OMG PLEASE EVERYONE READ THE NIGHT SHIFT PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE YOU WILL NOT REGRET IT!!! (rest of my tags are under cut <3)

the night shift — warmth

day 1 | masterlist | day 3

now playing: behind the moon shadow by lamp

kageyama watches as she rings up the last group of teenaged boys, the surplus of energy drinks and candies and chips failing to concern him. he thinks of her in her drunken, vulnerable, and giggly state, and her now, shielded and strong-eyed. the difference is evident in her stance, in her posture, in her tone. the group filters out and the jingle of the door marks the end of the night shift.

they follow their usual routine -- wiping down counters, taking note of stock, shutting off the heater -- and they move in tandem as they do so.

except, this time, she waits at the door.

"what are you doing?" he asks. his voice cracks ever so slightly.

she laughs at him, the noise filled with a heavy warmth that he finds unfamiliar. "waiting for you, of course. did you forget i was treating you tonight?"

he wants to tell her that he could never forget. that it never left his mind the entire shift. instead, he mutters, "a little, yeah."

again, she laughs, and it's whole. a far cry from what he perceived of her before, based on the cold shoulder she'd given him months prior.

the lights flicker off behind them, just like last night and every other night. she lifts a hand to her eyes to protect from tonight's harsher winds, with a sheepish admission that she doesn't quite have the funds to get something for either of them. "is it alright if we head to my place, instead? i can make you something," she offers.

he nods faster than he should.

——

it's awkward.

the lamps scattered around the house illuminate the kitchen and the dining table where he sits with his hands folded neatly on his lap and his leg bouncing up and down incessantly. despite all the uncomfortable silence, he feels a warmth that he hadn't experienced in a long, long while. maybe it's the air, he thinks, or the lighting, or the steam rising from her bubbling pot. but he doesn't think of comfort.

she stands over the stove with her sleeves rolled up to her elbows and her weight shifted to one leg. two packs of ramen reside on the counter beside her, both ripped open with tiny remnants of uncooked noodles. he watches her crack an egg in with one hand, then another egg with another hand. the pot stirs, and the water boils some more before simmering down to rest.

"spicy foods are great for winter, you know. helps to keep warm," she shares, an attempt at loosening the tension. her slippers click against the floor as she nears with the pot in her hands. the burning red hue of the soup and the assortment of vegetables reminds him of a meal from home.

the silence is less tense when they eat. they take turns as they pick up their own portions, her bites mirroring his. she chuckles at the pink spreading across his face from the heat, a mindless comment about his spice tolerance spilling from her lips naturally, and he can't find it in himself to argue with her. kenma's voice rings out in the background, and neither of them pay any mind to it.

a thought lingers in the air — whether or not he'd be in her house if it weren't for that accidental call. they don't want to dwell on it. good food is a good enough distraction.

"do you do anything outside of work?" the question disrupts the silence. he tears his eyes away from the meal and looks to her.

"volleyball. i play volleyball most of the time."

at that, she releases a hum and a nod, and he can't tell what it means. "yachi told me about that," she begins, her statement cut off by her own slurps. "why not go pro?"

he pauses. it's a simple question, but any semblance of an answer falls flat on his tongue.

it takes a moment before he responds. "i want to focus on myself first."

she can hear the bitterness behind it.

it's quiet again. they each take their last bites and the pot sits on the table completely empty, drained of all that it once had. together, they stack the collection of dishes up into a neat pile before she takes them to the sink, the water turning on and serving as white noise. porcelain clinks against metal in random bouts, and the warmth of the meal settles into sleepiness.

"what about you?" kageyama inquires, both an attempt to avoid silence and to keep himself awake.

"i don't have anything else to do outside of work."

her answer is instantaneous, a stark contrast to his, but similarly, it bears a hint of discontent. she bites the skin of her lower lip to redirect herself. "not that i really need anything else. or want anything else, for that matter. at least right now."

there's more to it. they both know that. but he glances at the clock hung atop one of the many lamps and realizes it's far too late to stay any longer. she jokes about how she couldn't care less, and it's natural. it flows.

the door closes behind him. she stands in the center of the living room with something heavy in her chest.

ᡣ𐭩 a lot of this smau is going to be convos between the frolickers gc bc i love them sm and they make everything feel natural

ᡣ𐭩 yams and yachi had the worst shift of their LIFE. an old lady came in and ordered the most complicated drink and when they couldnt get it down she started cursing them out </333

ᡣ𐭩 kageyama has a bad (?) habit of observing yn all the time. i hope it doesnt come off as stalker-ish i just think he’s a very analytical / people-watching person 😭

ᡣ𐭩 yn made shin ramen 😄😄

ᡣ𐭩 kags has an okay spice tolerance. he won’t throw up and die from spice but he will get super red and sweaty

ᡣ𐭩 i actually have no idea if i said this before but since new grounds and the convenience store are on the same street, yn and yachi tend to meet up during their breaks to talk and hang out !! they love gossiping about anything and everything hence why yn knew about kageyama’s vb stuff

ᡣ𐭩 similar to yn with kuroo and kenma, the frolickers gc is kag’s support system. he tries not to doubt their concern. he’s also just very avoidant so they try not to pry too much 😭😭

ᡣ𐭩 i hope this chapter was cutesy and nostalgic and warm and everything else that reminds you of home !! thats the vibe i was going for ^_^

taglist: @causenessus @strawberryuri @iiwaijime @savemebrazilhinata @tiramizuloz @conrad4life13 @wyrcan @zazathezaer @nperoconelcositoarriba @cupidsblonde @winniethepooh-lover

[snekdood]

i think my problem with other ppl who claim to possibly have native american ancestry but dont know is when they dont seem to treat it like as if it could *actually* be true and just treat it like "yeah im a spicy white person" dshdfshjv? idk if that makes sense, like they dont do the internal work of deconstructing racism around native people, they dont start listening to native ppl- its more or less used as either an excuse for appropriation or just to seem more "exotic".

[suiana]

yandere! cheater and gn! reader who's in their villain arc...

you've suspected that something was up when your boyfriend started to get busy with his work, coming home late, hiding his phone from you...

of course you just wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt that he really was just stressed from his work. he was yourboyfriend after all. you had to trust him, didn't you?

well everything was shattered when you found one of his side chicks under your shared bed. she was naked, only wearing a pair of undies while holding in her pee.

"wtf why are you hiding under here?"

"your bf doesn't want u to know that he's cheating. told me that he'd kill me if i came out."

yeah, so the girl was an asshole to get with your man when she knew that he was in a relationship but at least she told it to your face straight up. also she pissed herself while getting out from the bed so there's that.

meanwhile, your boyfriend was sobbing and crying when he came home. you had found out of his side affairs, a side he never wanted you to find out about. to be honest, your boyfriend didn't know why he he got with others in the first place. he had everything he could ever want in you. you made him feel alive, all the good things you know. being with you was like a dream come true and he constantly felt like tearing out his skin from how happy you made him.

you were his god.

oh, yeah, thinking about it now that's probably it. he felt that you were too good for him and didn't want to taint you. which... was why he resorted to sleeping with others.

shitty move, yeah he knows. don't need to repeat it.

but you... why were you so forgiving? you welcomed him back with open arms, sobbed a little and told him how hurt you were! he thought you'd have up and left by now!

but you didn't.

he knew you were too good for him, he had to treat you better now. he just had to, this was obviously you giving him a second chance, right? oh he just loves you so much!

unfortunately for him, it wasn't a second chance. no, you were about to absolutely ruin this man.

it started with the small things. small rumours about him ranging from how he had a small dick to how he's a pushover... you needed to start your plan slow, you know. tear his reputation of a good and sensible man bit by bit. gotta build up that tension teehee >w<

then from the rumours, you started manipulating the people close to him. crocodile tears, white lies, and a whole pity party for yourself... telling his friends and family members how your boyfriend was an absolute shit of a boyfriend, how he didn't treat you right and how he was the worst an alive... well, it wasn't much of a lie. he did spoil you and treat you like a deity but if he really treasured you why would he cheat in the first place? there's no space left in your life to pity him.

the most important part was to constantly reassure him that you loved him and to make sure that he never finds out that you were the one ruining his life from behind the scenes. can't let him find out that his angel lover is the one that's bringing him to social death now!

by this stage, your boyfriend was completely dependent on you. everyone around him was looking at him like he was the absolute scum of the earth. where did the rumours come from? why was everyone avoiding him? he couldn't even go to work without his coworkers side-eyeing him like he grew an extra head! he's just lucky he didn't get fired-

oh and what do you know. he got fired.

he comes home crying, an absolute mess and a shell of the man that he used to be. what was once a confident and charming man is now a desperate and pathetic boyfailure.

"baby i got fired, i'm so sorry. i don't deserve to be with you."

his arms wrap aorund your legs, tears staining your pants as he seeks comfort from the only person still left by his side. yes, you're the only person left dying for. even his own parents desserted him, yet you stayed. he's so thankful-

"yeah, you're right. you don't deserve me."

it's like time stops the second the words fall from your lips. he slowly looks up at you, eyes widening in horror as his tears dry up. what? was he growing delusional? he must've heard you wrong. no way his beloved god just said that!

"haha... you're so sweet baby. joking around in a time like this-"

"i'm not joking. you don't deserve someone like me."

you slap his hands away, looking down at him as he remains on his knees on the floor. you had a smug smile, expression all cocky as you even started to laugh.

"haha! did you really think i wanted to stay with you? fuck no! i have standards okay? i really didn't want to stay with a cheater!"

your boyfriend didn't know what to think. what were you saying? he doesn't understand. is this a late april fools prank? the way his heart was clenching and the way he felt his face paled shows just how much he doesn't like your words.

"babe stop-"

"i hate you god damnit. i really thought you'd be the one for me but no! you just had to go ahead and cheat!"

but you didn't listen to him.

"let's break up."

oh yeah, you hear that? that's the sound of his heart shattering.

he quickly crawls over to you, face pale as he grips onto your pants tightly. his hands shook with each word he uttered, tone desperate as tears streamed down his cheeks once more.

he never thought he'd start begging for someone to stay when it was usually the opposite but... you were his god. the one he's devoted his entire life too.

so he'll gladly get on his hands and knees for you if he has too. you can't leave him. he doesn't want to be alone.

"please! forgive me! i know i did something wrong but i'm trying! you can't leave me too!"

he looks up at you, face completely flushed as he continues to turn himself into an even bigger pathetic mess. he doesn't care what he looks like now. he's practically lost everything. he has nothing left to lose.

"i promise i'll be better! i haven't cheated since you found out last time! d-doesn't that count for something?"

he gives you a shaky smile, as though that would convince you.

it wasn't.

in response to his words, you could only give a disgusted expression, kicking him away before walking past him to the front door. what a pathetic man he was.

"you know, you look best when you're like this."

you state, glancing at him with a smile before turning to leave his house. well, there's that. your plan was complete and your now-ex boyfriend was absolutely destroyed.

so why did it feel like... something bad was about to happen?

you quickly look back at him, keeping your cool and remaining nonchalant before you feel the blood drain from your face. your best friend?! where did they come from?! and the fact that your crazy ex was holding a knife to their neck-

"no... don't leave me... you can't leave... i have no one else but you..."

what were you supposed to do now that he was holding your best friend hostage?

[katsukikitten]

Retired pro hero Bakugou buying a really old abandoned home in Japan and restoring it while living in it.

It's all he's got, a lot of his friends have wives, families, kids, some of them even expecting a first grandkid and Bakugou in his 40s has nothing of his life to show for aside from the undisputed number one spot on the hero charts for 20 years straight and more scars than he can count.

He feels he relates to the house, old, once adored but now empty.

He wants to change that, wants to be more than an idea or idol, wants to disassociate from Dynamight and just be Bakugou Katsuki but he isn't sure he knows who that is. Dynamight is still parts of him yes but exaggerated, in all his years Katsuki knows he can soften he just doesn't know where.

Although he's ready to find out. Sadly or maybe fortunately, he's the type of man who has to find out through action and hard work. He bought the house site unseen, didn't even Google what the front of the home looked like he didn't care.

Standing in front of his mostly dilapidated home he feels good, crossing his arms over his chest as he lets his mind wander on where to start. Eyes sharp, cutting into the features of the home as he assesses just like he would any villain situation.

"Excuse me Dyna-" You clear your throat before he looks at you, as you remember his retiring announcement of him saying Dynamight can go fuck himself. I'm Bakugou Katsuki now.

"Excuse me Bakugou. I brought you a little welcome gift. I'm your neighbor." You don't flinch when his heavy gaze flicks to you, don't shy away from his snarl and if anything your smile grows as you offer up the bento and plate of cookies.

He doesn't take them and you don't take offense, just gently pull them back to yourself as you look at the home

"I'm so happy you bought the Sato house. They were good neighbors. They lived here when I was younger by both passed suddenly. Old age does that ya know? They didn't have any children but Mrs. Sato taught me her special rice for bentos."

You're rambling but you don't care, you'd just bought your childhood home from your parents a month prior. Fearful your home would suffer the same fate as the Satos. That the love and memories would be washed away by the rain and neglect. That the air around the home would worsen each year it went unaccompanied until it became so stagnant with neglect it became a miasma that not even the toughest soul could stomach.

Yet here stood Bakugou strong and tall outside a broken home.

"I don't think it's anything special by the way. Just a bit more soy sauce or sesame seed oil, I think she was what made it special."

Katsuki looks down at you for a long time, sees your fingers twitch against the fabric of the neatly wrapped bento, watches you swallow thickly and lashes flutter to combat the burn in your eyes as you stare at the home. You turn to face him, give a polite smile and nod of your head in a brief good bye before his voice stops you.

"I'll be the judge of that." You furrow your brows in confusion, looking up at him before his big warm palm comes under the bento to lift from your hands, "If the rice is special or not."

He watches your face light up, a true genuine smile that could compete with the sun and he feels something deep in his chest ache. Feels it yearn to reach out to you but he stands firm in his spot as he watches you disappear down the short overgrown walk way back to your home.

He doesn't even need to try the fucking rice to know the answer.

The rice was going to be special because you made it, Katsuki's sure of it.

[syluss-littlecrow]

massagers and misunderstandings

<sylus x fem!reader>

Haphazardly leaving your little toy in Sylus's room after your playtime wasn't part of the plan.

The good news is that the vibrator was in Sylus’s room.

The bad news is that the vibrator is currently in Sylus’s hands.

genre/warnings: smut, pwp, vibrator play x mirror sex, overstimulation, unprotected sex, sylus teasing the everloving shit out of you, breeding kink, (light) choking, dacryphilia, shit load of orgasms

w/c: 2.1k

a/n: shout out to the loml @rafsfishstick for helping me out with this and also giving me this fuck ass idea. Now y'all gna suffer with ME. you're welcome 🩷

Shit, shit, shit. Where is it?!

You've been flipping your whole bedroom upside down over an important missing device. You swore you kept it in the drawers of your room, or at least, you thought you did. 

Unfortunately, it went over your head that staying with Sylus for extended periods had you getting very comfortable with leaving your belongings around.

Including your vibrator. 

Well, Sylus didn't need to know about it. 

In your defense, it was lonely in the mansion without him. And when you did miss him while he was gone, you'd sneak into his room (not that he minded), lie on his bed and let his scent just engulf you completely. 

Well, you had your needs too. 

And usually you'd just keep your vibrator in your room within the mansion.

And unfortunately for you, this was not one of your usual times.

When the realisation hit you that you in fact did absentmindedly stash your toy hastily in one of his drawers during one of the nights when he told you he'd be away from town for a while, you bolted to his room, hoping, praying, that Sylus hadn't reached his chambers before you did.

The good news is that the vibrator was indeed in Sylus’s room.

The bad news is that the vibrator is currently in Sylus’s hands.

Fuck me, you think, a million useless excuses flooding in and out of your mind.

Maybe you could knock him out and snag the toy from his fingers.

Yeah, like that could ever fucking work with his level of reflexes. 

“Aren't you coming in, kitten?” 

His usual pet name sends goosebumps flooding your skin. 

“Good evening, Sylus”, you force a smile, trying to ignore the way he’s fidgeting with your vibrator. 

“This wouldn't happen to be yours, would it?” He asks, dangling the silicone vibrator before you. “I've never seen you use it before.”

You could smack the smug look off his face if you had the chance to, but for now, you force a smile, reaching out to take the device from him. 

“It's just a massager”, you lie horribly.

Of course he fucking shifts it away from your grasp.

He narrows his eyes at you and decorates his expression with a sharper smirk. 

“Right, because massaging devices look unassuming like this, and you happen to decide to have a little massage session in my room?” 

Fuck. 

There's no way out of this. 

His smirk fades. He puts an arm out to beckon you closer. 

His eyes reflect tints of something else, like a reminder that you're about to turn into his prey. 

And you can't help but always fall into his trap.

“Now, won't you show me how you use your little massager, sweetie?” 

You watch him twirl the vibrator between his slender fingers, touching and feeling the buttons on his fingertips. He has your legs spread apart in front of him at the edge of the bed. You’re carefully observing your partner as it takes him barely a few minutes to figure your toy out when it buzzes to life. 

“Don't look so scared, kitten. I'm not about to eat you”, the gaze Sylus is giving you says otherwise. Unfortunately, there's a twisted stem of anticipation that's slowly flooding your veins. You wonder what he's about to do to you, and it's getting you excited. 

He smirks when his gaze lands on the small damp patch of fabric on your pussy. He wants to make it bigger. 

Sylus grazes his knuckles against your clothes pussy, and it draws a gasp from you. 

“I have to say, sweetie, your little massager here has quite the strong vibrations”, Sylus teases. His arm curls around your legs, pulling you slightly closer to him, before he presses the buzzing toy on your clothed pussy. Despite the fact that you knew it was coming, you still jumped from the sensation instantly. 

You crunch your abdomen when you feel Sylus rolling the vibrator up and down your pussy, watching with sheer satisfaction at the way the dark patch on your pussy continues to grow darker and bigger. 

“How does it feel, kitten?” He asks with a smile, and you're not sure if you're getting soaked from the vibrator or from Sylus eye fucking you. 

“Tickles…” you force yourself to answer. You hear him hum from below, before your mind shuts off when he shifts the vibrator right to your clit, and applies pressure right there. 

But it's not enough.

You know he's fucking with you. He's teasing you–especially when he intentionally lowers the vibration to a dull buzz, taking away the build up, only leaving you whining for more. 

But at the moment where you're able to catch your breath, the vibration climbs in levels again, leaving you fisting the sheets and his shirt. Sylus removes his arm around your thigh, and hooks a slender on the damp piece of fabric, tugging it outwards.

“Should we get this out of the way, sweetie? It's bothering you isn't it?” 

You nod, still trying to regulate your breathing, your mind racing at the thought of Sylus being the one pressing your vibrator on your bare, wet, sticky pussy. 

He lets you close your legs to roll the panties off your hips, only to disappear behind you for a split moment. 

His husky voice rings in your ears. 

“Open, sweetie.”

You feel his fingers brush on your chin, and he gestures to you to face the front.

You're facing the mirror. 

The view of your legs spread open, the sight of your glistening pussy right before your reflection makes you swallow hard. 

Sylus’s finger slither down to your sopping folds, spreading your pussy open. 

“So fucking pretty for me, aren't you?” 

Your fingers clutch tightly against his shirt, the desperation for him to do just anything coming out as a beg when you whisper to him, “please, Sylus.”

His other hand switches on the vibrator once more, and he aims it right on your fucking clit. It makes you jump, and before you realise it, your orgasm hits you–white engulfing your vision, the pleasure shooting through your veins at lightning speed and your pussy uselessly and desperately clenching the air. Sylus captures your lips with his, eating your fucked out moans while he drags your orgasm out, rolling the toy in circles around your clit, collecting the sheer wetness with his fingers and vibrator.

He pulls the vibrator off you, at least, momentarily, to let you descend from your high. 

Sylus watches you through the mirror–you, in tears, a small puddle just under where you're sitting and just a creamy fucking mess your pussy is. 

“So this was what you were doing when I was gone?” 

He watches the way your ears turn red.

Sylus’s fingers keep you staring at him through the reflections.

“I got lonely when you weren't here…”

“Right. I'm sorry for that, sweetie. I should make it up to you, hm?”

You couldn't even proceed to ask him how before he lifts you onto his lap, and the view before you makes you swallow harder–his cock just resting against your bare pussy. 

His lips are pressed against the shell of your ear.

“If I told you that I crave so fucking much to just see you the moment I leave, would that leave your mind at ease?” 

“No”, you mutter, then gasp when he presses his dick along your folds, dragging his cock so painfully slowly against your pussy. “Nothing is enough if it's not you being here in the flesh.”

He chuckles–it feels warm and it spreads through all over your body. 

“Greedy kitten”, is all he replies before he stretches you open, taking the gorgeous sight of you completely falling apart for him as he fits his cock in you. 

“That’s a good girl for me. You're taking me so well. Fuck, look at you swallowing me up”, he groans, greedily wanting to just keep all the wet warmth for himself. 

It has been a couple of long weeks since he was gone, and fuck was his cock quite a stretch. He fills you up so fucking good every single time.

He listens to you sigh shakily, trying to adjust. He feels the way you're squeezing his thighs with your hand.

You feel so good around him. You feel so good for him. 

You hiccup when you feel Sylus thrusts his cock right into you again. You're so fucking overstimulated, your sensitivity climbing up in hundreds, but Sylus still trails the vibrator across your clit in pulses, making your head fall back against his shoulders, your moans bouncing off the walls of his room. It doesn't help that he's forcing you to soak in the sheer perversion of view that's presented before you. 

“You're squeezing me so much, kitten”, he hisses into your ears when he feels your pussy clench around him once more. He's in fucking heaven. 

But of course, he loves playing with his prey a little more. 

The moment he feels you start flutter, he lifts the vibrator off your clit. It makes you gasp.

Then he thrusts his hips upwards, pressing against your sensitive spots. You watch the way his cock just disappears in you, all the way in, and it's starting to make you light-headed. 

“Can your little vibrator make you make that face, kitten?” 

You see the tear stains that streak down your face, your eyes still watery. Fuck, of course it doesn't. 

“Maybe”, you answer shakily, and you watch his eyes fucking glow right before you in the mirror.

Sylus laughs.

“I guess I should change that, right?” He responds. His fingers are now on your throat, and his other hand lay flat on your thigh.

“Then I'd better make sure I make you see fucking stars. Fuck you hard and good, right?” 

His fingers tighten around your throat. 

Sylus is a fucking menace.

You don't even remember the existence of your vibrator. Not when Sylus is fucking the ever-loving shit out of you from below, and that you're watching it through the fucking mirror–every thrust detailed perfectly under the lights, his fingers cutting oxygen from you from time to time. 

He's forcing you to cum with his dick. 

And it's fucking working..

Much thanks to the horrible edging he's done to you, you're a fucking overstimulated mess–so sensitive and broken that when you're about to flood, you're begging him.

“Gonna cum, Sylus, please. I'm gonna cum so much. Fuckkkk-” 

It fountains out of you and pushes him out, spraying all over the mirror and the sheets. You don't know what Sylus is muttering in your ears but you know he's fucking slapping your pussy, more fluids spraying out to his satisfaction.

After the clear fluids, only the thick cream comes after, and Sylus doesn't hesitate to slide his cock back in, filling you up once more, cream settling and slicking down his shaft with every thrust. Your thighs are still twitching from how fucking good it feels.

“Have I told you that I adore ruining you so much? Because I do adore ruining you so much, sweetie”, he groans. His face contorts in pleasure so fucking beautifully in the mirror while he bottoms out in you, his cock twitching and letting thick streams of warm cum filling you up. He lets himself stay in your pussy for a second or two, before he pulls out, only a thin string of cum linking his cock and your pussy. 

Sylus forces you to watch his fingers once again pull open your pretty folds, and thick white seeps out of your hole in loads. 

You see him plant a kiss on your temple before he effortlessly scoops you up to wash up with him.

You swear you didn’t leave it in his room this time round. You learned your lesson. When Sylus had his butler change out the soiled sheets, you had pocketed back your vibrator and kept it in a safe part of your room so Sylus wouldn’t get his hands on it again. 

At least, that’s what you thought, because the vibrator seemed to have disappeared again. 

Shit, did you have to intrude into Sylus’s room again? Well sure, he was gone for a couple of days, so you used his bed for a couple of days…but you were sure as hell that you brought the vibrator back with you when you on the day Sylus came back. 

Unsuccessful with the search in Sylus’s room, you return back to yours, wondering if the mansion had just sucked up the vibrator into thin air. 

That is, until you see Sylus on your bed.

With your vibrator in his hands. 

[aliceramblez]

Dating the Hazbin Hotel Residents 😈

Tags: GN!Reader, Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Mentioned Mature Topics (ie. Suicidal Thoughts, Alcohol Abuse, SA, etc), Spoilers For The Show, etc.

A/N: Ahhh yes, more brainriot for the pile 😌 I was more of a Helluva gal before the show aired, but now I gotta say these blorbos are a dear part of my heart! Hopefully y'all enjoy these as much as I did writing them!

Consider following my main blog @taruchinator for more solid content & feel free to leave a request here for future HCs~

Charlie 🌈

When the Happy Hotel first opened its doors and all of Hell started making a mockery of it, you were probably the only one who took it as a sign to try and improve from the low life that you were. It's not like you had anything else to live for, anyway.

As soon as you enter the building, you're immediately greeted by the bubbly Princess of Hell herself (along with a reluctant Angel Dust) who is more than happy to show you around and welcomes you with open arms.

You've never been shown this much kindness and sympathy for your situation before, so it naturally takes you aback and makes you wonder what the catch is. Turns out there's none and the Princess is probably the only sweet soul to live in this shithole.

As you grow closer, she asks you to drop the title and just call her Charlie. She also shares a bit about her situation and how her mother wanted to save sinners from the extermination each year, and now Charlie felt like it was her duty to continue this legacy until her dreams came true.

You can't help but feel touched over how much she cares, so you silently vow to yourself to help her in any way you can, just like she's done for you.

It doesn't take long before the two of you grow even closer and feelings begin to blossom, but you decide to ignore them since why would a Princess ever like someone like you?

But Charlie proves you wrong yet again, since one day she comes to you a blushing mess and confesses her own feelings, asking if you'd like to go out with her. You can't help but vocalize your shock since she could do so much better than a random sinner. She deserved better, too.

She looks at you with fondness in her eyes. “You've been by my side for so long and supported me every step of the way. Who wouldn't fall for someone like that?”

And thus, you are the luckiest person in Hell because you scored Charlotte Morningstar, and whoever says otherwise can get a knife to their throat.

She's the perfect definition of a sweet and patient girlfriend, never pushing you to do anything you aren't comfortable with (since you really aren't used to such adoration in a romantic relationship), but as soon as you give her the get-go, she'll be sure to shower you with as much affection as she can until the doubts in your mind disappear completely.

You aren't that far behind either. Albeit not as good as her, you do your best to be a comforting partner whenever she needs you. This is especially necessary after an extermination happens, which always leaves Charlie devastated and in need of a hug or words of encouragement because she doubts herself sometimes and wonders if the hotel is even working at all.

You remind her how it brought the two of you together, to which she smiles and agrees that at least something good has come out of it so far.

Vaggie 🎀

Both you and Vaggie used to work in the same legion under Adam with the rest of his exorcists. You knew of each other's existence, but didn't really talk much aside from whatever was needed in the midst of battle.

The day she spares a demon child's life, you're doing your rounds nearby and witness the whole exchange, including Lute coming over and ripping both an eye and Vaggie's wings for showing mercy. You don't know why, but it makes your blood boil.

“HEY! What are you doing?! It was just a kid, why not let it slide?”

And just like that, you become a target of Lute's rage as well, being ripped from your angelic status along with receiving a few nasty cuts, yet surprisingly not as bad as Vaggie herself.

Once the two of you are left to die, you immediately try to tend the girl's wounds with whatever you can. Vaggie can only stare in disbelief at what you'd done and questions why you even did so in the first place—now you were stuck just like she was.

“Guess I just don't like seeing injustice... Who knew Heaven could be so fuckin' shitty?”

You both laugh at the irony of it all, and that's when luck is finally on your side as Charlie finds you in the dirty alley and brings you back to the hotel to heal properly.

For the next three years you two stay at the Hazbin Hotel, helping Charlie in any way you can to try and make her dream a reality since deep down you hope that despite Heaven's corrupt system, there can be a small chance that souls can be redeemed. You hide the fact that you're ex-Anges though, since you don't wanna cause unnecessary drama.

During this time period, the two of you become better friends, having your own inside jokes regarding things you didn't particularly enjoy from your time as Angels, as well as learning more about one another.

You're the one to come to terms with your feelings first and decide to lay them on the table for Vaggie to see—she's always been a straight-to-the-point kind of gal, so if you're about to be rejected, might as well have it be done quick. But of course, she replies with her own declaration and desire to give a relationship a shot, which you're ecstatic about!

It's a bit hard at first since you never got to see much of romantic relationships in Heaven while training for murder every year, but you try and make it work. Both you and Vaggie work endlessly to try and make the other happy, and it only makes you fall for each other even more.

Also Charlie is your go-to wingwoman who will be there to give you the best advice to try and woo your girlfriend. She ships you two so hard.

Angel Dust 🕸

Working at a porn studio under an Overlord who owns your soul can be exhausting. You know this better than anyone since everyone who works under Valentino has contracts that won't let you get far with a leash. This is especially true with your friend Angel Dust.

You know about the things Valentino does to the spider demon—hell, everyone in the studio probably knows, but know better than to say anything about it. You're always there for Angel after particularly rough shoots, doing your best to comfort him in any way you can, though there isn't much you can do given you're in the same spot.

When he tells you he's moving to Princess Charlie's Hazbin Hotel, you're so happy for him! At least that will give him some distance from Valentino and his disgustingly filthy hands when he's not working.

This unsurprisingly doesn't bode well with the Overlord, causing him to throw fits of rage around the studio when Angel leaves for the day. You can't help but make a snarky comment that you definitely regret moments later.

“Can one blame him for wanting space from such an overbearing asshole?”

Without his favorite stress toy around, you end up paying the price for such comments. The kind of pain and suffering he puts you through is completely different from what you're used to. Is this the stuff he does to Angel? He leaves you naked, bruised and bloody in your room, and all you can do is muster what little strenght you have left to head for the Hazbin Hotel.

As soon as the door opens, you immediately tumble forward and start losing consciousness. The last thing you remember is Angel's horrified expression before it all fades to black.

Once you wake up and have been patched up, you explain what happened at the studio, and you could've sworn you saw fire in Angel's eyes as he holds on to you, fearing you might disappear at any moment. He begs you to stay in the hotel with him, and you agree without hesitation.

And so, your new routine of heading to work and then coming back to the hotel becomes blissful, not having to deal with that lunatic mothman more than necessary. You also get to spend time off with your best friend, which is always a plus.

Well, ‘best friend’ might not be the best way to describe it. You'd developed a crush on the spider demon even before this whole incident occurred, and now that you were spending more time with him, it only continued to grow.

With the line of work you two had, romantic relationships didn't seem to be a thing that crossed anybody's mind since why have a permanent partner when you could just go around fucking the hottest people in Hell? But you knew your feelings were far beyond from sexual, but didn't wanna ruin what you already had going for you.

One heartfelt drunken conversation after work however, makes you do a double take—Angel likes you back. And that both scares and excites you. But with both of you going over the pros and cons with each other, you decide to give it a chance.

You make sure to always have Angel's consent when it comes to physical intimacy—anything from holding his hand, to kissing to just cuddling. He jokes about not being a porcelain doll, but deep down you know he appreciates it.

You're also there for the rough nights, when he comes home wanting nothing more than to die again and let the earth swallow him whole. Words of reassurance are spoken and you can only hold him and let him cry as you vow to do anything in your power to stop this from happening again.

Husker 🍺

As one of the first guests of the hotel, like any wayward sinner, you find yourself in the bar more often than you'd like. Alcohol killed you in the first place, yet not even in the afterlife could you seem to pull yourself from its grasp.

It's a somewhat welcome surprise to find out that the bartender is going through a similar struggle. He still serves you drinks and lends and ear whenever he's not busy, but will occasionally drop the words of wisdom to watch your fill.

Eventually you two find yourselves doing this little back and forth and aid each other when you're in your dark places—Husk won't let you near the bottle if he sees you're about to knock yourself out, meanwhile you're there to look after him when he has one too many drinks and can't take care of himself.

Not to say he isn't a good drinking buddy—you've found out most of the gossip around the hotel thanks to this sneaky little cat demon and there's never a dull moment with him around.

You learn about his deal with Alastor during a particularly bad night, when Husk's had one too many and isn't thinking straight. You don't bring it up, but now have an eye open for whenever the Radio Demon drags your friend away.

Angel's the one who brings up your questionable relationship to the surface.

“So... you two like, fuckin' each other, or what?”

Your entire face goes red, and if it weren't for the dark fur you could swear you see Husk looking the same. He's quick to get rid of Angel's nosy ass, but now the seed has been planted in your brain—do you like Husk that way?

After careful consideration, you come to the conclusion that yes, you do. And it's honestly kinda terrifying considering how relationships don't usually work out in Hell, at least from what you've seen. Besides, even if you did try and confess, there was always the possibility of him not feeling the same and just being embarrassed by Angel's comment.

So in an attempt to make your feelings disappear, you stop frequenting the bar. Who knew the best way to stop drinking habits was trying to avoid spending time with your unrequited crush?

But of course, Husk isn't stupid. He sees the change in your behavior and let's it slide for a while, until he eventually corners you and asks what's wrong. You decide to get it all out of the way and tell him how you feel.

To the embarrassment of both of you, he holds your hand firmly between his and darts his eyes toward the corner of the room. “Next time you should ask before going off assuming things, ya got it?”

And so, your glass may have been empty that day, but your heart had never felt fuller.

Sir Pentious 🐍

You meet Sir Pentious when you sign into the hotel, and your immediate thought is just how can this snake man be so adorkable, it should be illegal.

As you greet the other residents and staff, you're quick to strike a conversation with him, which based on his body language he was not expecting. He starts telling you a bit about his weaponry and other contraptions, and you can't help but be fascinated by it.

You're a bit of a tinkerer yourself, albeit you've only dabbled in small scale projects—nothing compared to the massive canons and aircrafts that Pentious seems to be familiar with.

He acts like a kid opening gifts on Sinmas when he talks to you about his inventions, clearly never having anyone show interest before. Eventually he'll even ask for your input on certain smaller projects he wants to work on to help around the hotel, all to thank Charlie for being so kind to him and giving him a second chance. You're obviously eager to help!

You two start spending so much time together that the egg boys have started calling you ‘Boss #2’, much to Pentious' embarrassment and your amusement.

One afternoon once exercises are done for the day, the snake demon seems much more fidgety than usual as he invites you over to his room to continue working on his security system prototype. He's a blabbering mess once he has you sitting down and your heart just can't help but swell at each little syllable.

“Dearest (y/n)... you've, um, well... you are a huge inspiration for my work! A-And I wouldn't have been able to create any of this... without your help. You are kind, and smart and very talented.... and w-well, um I-”

You gotta silence the man with a kiss otherwise you two would be here all day. He's puddy in your hands and you can only giggle in return. “I really like you too, Pen.”

Everyone is either saying they called it or groaning in annoyance because fucking FINALLY, you two were just dancing around each other like idiots. The egg boys are just so happy to have someone else besides Pentious to be in their lives, and will do their best to look out for you just like with their own boss.

So yeah, prepare yourself for some sickeningly sweet gestures from this guy cause he will go above and beyond to get you what you need/want even if it kills him (again). And you can confidently say that you'd do the same in return.

Alastor 📻

After running in the same circles when you were alive, it's no surprise to you to end up in Hell, although you never would've suspected that you'd find yourself in the same place as him. It was honestly a huge relief not having to go through this all by yourself.

As Alastor exerted his dominance over Hell as the Radio Demon, you were powerful enough to be an Overlord yes, but rather liked keeping it on the down low instead of making a spectacle of yourself (Alastor was the one for theatrics anyway). Because of this, only select few knew of your true power and what you were capable of.

Instead, if there was one thing you were known for, it was being the only soul allowed to be close to the Radio Demon without the risk of death.

Yes, Alastor was a sadistic, cold-blooded and egotistical mastermind, but he wasn't a monster. You knew that better than anyone. Although the reactions he had to other demons treating you like a joke or calling you the ‘Radio Demon's Pet’ were not helping his case.

“ł₣ ɎØɄ V₳ⱠɄɆ ɎØɄⱤ ₴ØɄⱠ, ɎØɄ ₩łⱠⱠ ₩₳Ⱡ₭ ₳₩₳Ɏ Ɽł₲Ⱨ₮ ₦Ø₩ ฿Ɇ₣ØⱤɆ ł Ɽł₱ ł₮ ₳₱₳Ɽ₮ ฿ł₮ ฿Ɏ ฿ł₮...”

“Al, chill. You're gonna make them shit their pants.”

After his seven year absence, you immediately noticed something was wrong with him, and wouldn't stop pestering until he told you the truth—A deal he made and how his soul was now bound to someone much more powerful than he was.

You were obviously mortified and started looking into ways to try and find a loophole to this, but alas the Radio Demon would just give you his signature grin and tell you not to worry about it. It was his battle to face.

But of course you're quick to remind him that you've stuck together through thick and thin even in life, so there was no way you were letting him handle this by himself. You work as a team—always have and always will. You engulf him in a hug.

“We're gonna figure this out, Al. I promise...”

The grin remains, but his eyes widen slightly in surprise. He hesitantly returns the embrace, patting your back and wiping the tears you didn't even know you were shedding.

“There there~ To think such a sweet and innocent soul wound up in a gutter like this. I cannot say I complain as long as I have your delightful company beside me.”

And so when he says he has a plan that involves Princess Charlie Morningstar and her new Happy Hotel, you follow along. Whatever fate has in store for you two, you'll be ready.

Also Charlie is a sweetheart who could do no harm. Knowing Alastor, he'll probably do whatever he can here and there to help around for the cause. You also offer your services as an undercover Overlord, much to everyone's surprise when you reveal your status.

The Radio Demon may have a plan, but something tells you it won't involve bloody murder (unless extremely necessary or if someone really pissed him off).

Like you said—he's not a monster.

Lucifer 🍎

You and Lucifer were good friends at the beginning of Creation. While you were stuck with the tedious task of designing blueprints for the new ‘Human Project’ that headquarters had in store, Lucifer's Seraphim status allowed him to bring creations to life with the flick of a wrist, much to your delight and wonder.

His ideas and pitches for Earth were always so entertaining to listen to, and you would do your best to encourage him to show them to the higher ups to get them approved—His mind was just filled with joy and love and wonder that you'd never seen before.

Which was why it was always so disappointing whenever he'd come back and say that he was shut down and even mocked at. How could Heaven shut down such an imaginative mind in the creation of their biggest project yet?

To say you were devastated when you heard about his fall would be an understatement. You mourned the loss of your friend, knowing that he'd done nothing wrong and thinking it wasn't fair to him to receive such punishment just because he cared for the future of humanity.

Thousands of years later, you overhear the plan for Extermination of Hell kind. You didn't mean to walk by, yet here you were, under the direct eye of the Head Seraphims about to be downcast for something you had no control over—just like Lucifer.

“You're all self-entitled pricks! You think you can do whatever you want just because it doesn't follow what you define as good!”

You get a few good arguments before being cast downwards, leaving you in bad shape in a random alley with no wings and no means of escape. That is of course, until destiny seems to be on your side and Lucifer finds you, completely perplexed to see you here at all.

After getting treated, you tell him about the Extermination so he and Hell can prepare. The conversation of you getting cast down by Heaven gets glossed over, but he can feel the fury building up inside him. You were always doing things by the book—how could they do this to you?

Once the slaughter is over, Lucifer gets a meeting with Heaven and secures protection for both his daughter Charlie and you, to which they begrudgingly agree to keep him outta their hair. You can't help but feel touched by this gesture.

He's also quick to offer you a room to stay in, but you compromise by living in a seperate building from him and Charlie so you aren't a bother even though he says you aren't. In fact, ever since Lilith left, he's had to take care of his young daughter all by himself, so he's more than happy when you offer to help.

It doesn't take long for your feelings to start coming into the surface from all those years ago, and you gotta push them away because he's both married and has a child to look after! Besides, why would the King of Hell ever look in your direction?

Eventually though, he brings up the question with nothing but sweaty palms and a customized rubber ducky that says ‘I love you’ whenever you squeeze it. You blush furiously, but can't help but bring up your concerns, not wanting to replace Lilith in his heart. He looks into your eyes and says that he hasn't been as happy as he is now in the past thousand years.

Cue baby Charlie walking in on everything, and she just smiles and goes innocently. “Daddy! Is (y/n) staying home with us now?”

You two can only chuckle at the cuteness of it and you immediately go to hug her. You couldn't believe that you were blessed with such a wonderful family.

[lijojo]

genshin men as one-night stands

premise: after a blurred night of passion, you try to leave your one-night stand's house. how do they convince you to stay?

tw: suggestive, minors dni

Spoils You Rotten

wakes you up to the smell of pancakes and coffee. usually, when you have one-night stands, you usually are quick to change and book it. but the smell of pancakes was just so heavenly, you let curiosity get the best of you.

when you get to the kitchen, you're welcomed to the sight of him in a frilly apron, flipping pancake batter on the pan. he hums to himself until he turns around to see you, gaping at him as if you'd just seen a ghost.

"good morning, love. do you want me to run the bath now? i know you're probably a little sore from yesterday. i have some scented candles in the cabinet, although i'm not sure which one you'd prefer so i wanted to wait for you to get up so you could choose."

"what—" you gulp, trying to process the sight before you.

he tilts his head, puzzled. "is something the matter, love?"

"i'm—i'm just surprised, is all," you try, "i didn't peg you as the type to have...um...one-night stands."

he chuckles, sliding the pancakes onto a plate. "i don't."

he turns to you, his eyes locked onto you. "you're not a one-night stand. i fully intend to get to know you better. now, i'd pick up that jaw off from the floor, dear. you're going to let the flies in."

snapping out of your bewilderment, you close your mouth.

"good. now, would you like to take a bath? the muffins should be done in ten. i can bring your breakfast over to you in a bath tray when it's ready. and maybe after..." he gives you an unexpected smile. "i can massage all your sore parts?"

zhongli, alhaitham, diluc, tighnari, kaeya, albedo

Will not physically let you leave the bed

you literally can't move. not even when you try. when you wake up, you find yourself in a bear trap. you're legs are tangled with someone else's their arms locked around your waist in a vice grip. instead of chirping birds, you hear the thudding heartbeat of their chest resting below your ear.

when you try to maneuver out of his hold, his arms only tighten around you more. he groans lowly in your ear, shifting a bit.

"what's the hold up?" he murmurs into the crown of your head. "stay."

so much for sneaking out unnoticed.

you stiffen at his morning voice. it's unexpectedly raspier than you'd expected. he takes the opportunity to kiss your forehead tenderly, a lot tenderly than a usual one-night stand would.

"i have some errands to run." it isn't entirely untrue. surely, there must be something you need to do today.

he stares at you for a long second before huffing. "five minutes won't hurt, those errands can wait."

"wait but—"

before you can brace for it, he's already turning on his side and taking you along with him. he nuzzles his nose into the crook of your neck, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses.

"you weren't thinking of leaving right after a night of intimacy, right?" he mused. "i thought you enjoyed last night. i certainly did."

you flushed at the memories. as much as you wanted to leave as you'd planned, it was awfully comfortable in his embrace. it was warm, soft, and welcoming.

"stay for a little longer, okay?" he cooed into your ear, pulling the covers over you. "at least, long enough for round two."

scaramouche, cyno, thoma, kaveh, itto,

Finds excuses to make you stay

the moment you make any sign of leaving, he's already calling for you to help him with something.

you try getting out of his grasp first thing in the morning? he's asking for a kiss on the cheek to wake him up, he can't get up without it. picking up your clothes off the floor? he's already offering you an extra change of clothes, not to mention helping you put it on. he even smiles at your flustered state. getting ready to leave? he's tugging your sleeve, offering his many amenities at home that are seemingly much better quality than yours: his cleanser, his cute headbands, his moisturizers.

and you can't say no. not when he's giving you those eyes. so you end up staying.

in a blink of an eye, you find yourself suddenly helping him smooth out the outfit he asked you to choose for him, hands running down his torso. leaning towards you, you can feel his eyes digging into your skin.

"thank you, sweet thing," he says, pressing a kiss on your nose.

"it's no problem," you mumble. "but i really—"

"how about staying for a cup of water?" he offered. "you know how important it is that you drink water first thing in the morning. it's supposed to be good for your skin. digestion too."

"well, alright—"

"and while we're at it, what about a movie? i have some classics i've been dying to watch and it's always better to watch with somone else."

you end up staying wayyy longer than you expected doing the small things: sorting through books, doing face masks, watching halfway through a movie, eating breakfast together, helping him look for butterflies on his front yard, getting the mail together. all while the two of you exchange jokes.

by the time it's well into the afternoon, you finally snap out of your daze, realizing the time.

"you just noticed?" he grins. "how cute. well, thank you for putting up with my antics, sweet thing."

he kisses you softly on the mouth.

"think of this morning as an advertisement for the other mornings to come, whenever you want to stay the night again. you won't regret it."

kaveh, itto, childe, ayato, kazuha, venti,

[wileys-russo]

spoiled rotten (3) II a.putellas

part of the spoiled rotten universe spoiled rotten (3) II a.putellas

"alexia? baby you do know she is not going to disappear if you take your eyes off of her for five seconds." you teased quietly, poking your head into your daughters room and finding your girlfriend sat in the feeding chair watching the eight month old like a hawk.

"sh! amor you will wake her." your girlfriend warned with a frown, face softening at the eyebrow raised her way as you carefully padded into the room, sitting down on her lap as her arms wound their way around your waist.

an apologetic kiss was pressed to your shoulder as you joined the blonde in staring adoringly at the tiny bundle of pink skin and ringlets of dark brown hair, swaddled tightly in a cream colored blanket.

"she is so tiny." you exhaled with a soft smile, alexia's chin finding home on your shoulder with a hum of agreement. you weren't sure how long the two of you sat there for, alexia holding you tightly as you relaxed into the welcoming warmth of her embrace.

this little habit of hers wasn't anything new, and these days any time you couldn't find the footballer all it took was a few steps into your daughters room and there she'd be, staring at her with a fierce love in her eyes you'd never seen before the birth of amalia.

to the pair of you and your inner circle of loved ones you called her lia, much to the thrilled delight of your niece layla who was convinced that lia was as close to her own name as you could get which must mean amalia was named after her.

your sister discouraged the thought but neither you or alexia minded, lala and lia, both of their nicknames within the family, seemed an adorable pairing and your heart swelled whenever you watched how patient and gentle the usually bubbly and hyperactive eight year old was with your daughter.

the first time layla had held lia you were so overcome with hormones and emotions you needed to leave the room in tears, ingrid hurrying after you as mapi was too busy chewing your girlfriends ear off about how that must mean you wanted another baby.

as much as alexia adored amalia you didn't miss the way her face paled anytime a second baby was mentioned and found it endlessly amusing to tease her about just getting the baby stage out of the way with another one at the same time.

alexia would laugh nervously and you'd grin, kissing away her awkward smile and assuring you were only teasing. you knew one little baby for the pair of you to stress and worry over was enough for the time being.

and it wasn't a lie.

stress and worry went hand in hand when it came to you and alexia trying to work out how to navigate parenthood for the first time, overwhelmed with tips and wives tales and stories and tricks from both of your entire families.

the first month of amalia's life was chaotic to say the least.

your own mother flew over from england to be there for the birth to support you, eli insisting she stay with her and suddenly the date of her return flight home was pushed further and further away.

then between the pair of them for those first four weeks neither you or your girlfriend seemed to have a minute alone with your own daughter.

both older women seemed to spend every spare second they could hovering and cuddling and kissing and fussing and cooing over the tiny infant, and at first it was helpful, then it very quickly grew to be painful.

it felt as if nothing you or alexia did was right. you'd change lias diaper, one of them would swoop in and redo it, assuring you their way was better.

alexia would try to swaddle her before bed, just like the both you had learned in prenatal classes and practiced for months leading up to the birth.

but it never seemed to be tight enough or right enough for either of your mothers, who would again just redo it with an unintentionally condescending click of the tongue.

your own attempts to softly urge them back to their own homes and your mother back to england were dismissed with a wave of their hands assuring it was absolutely fine and no trouble at all.

and you were sure it wasn't trouble for them, however it was becoming unbearable for yourself and alexia, the once perfectly spacious apartment you shared feeling suffocatingly small with two more overbearing and uninvited tenants.

eventually, when your softer approach hadn't worked alexia had stepped in and put her foot down firmly with the pair of them. the blonde wouldn't take no for an answer, practically pushing both women out and deadlocking the door, the two of you sharing a smile and then bursting out into laughter at the much welcome silence.

though both you and your girlfriend were fiercely fiercely protective of amalia, alexia was particularly strict when it came to introducing her to new people.

or more specifically, introducing her formally to the rest of the barcelona squad bar amalias godparents who'd all but charged your door down a few days after you brought her home, mapi threatening to kick it in if you didn't let her and ingrid inside.

you knew the rest of the girls had been begging alexia to meet amalia, mainly because that begging was done through you knowing that bar your daughter you were the only other person able to melt the stern faced captain like butter.

so almost three months after she was born, alexia finally agreed to let you bring amalia to the training centre, both of you already in agreement that a football match was no place for a newborn, both you and amalia watching most of alexia's games at home on tv.

most weekends eli or alba would offer to babysit so you could go and watch in person, though it took a lot to convince either of you to leave your daughter alone with someone who wasn't you or alexia.

but leaving amalia with family was a little easier, and your own family spent a lot of time flying back and forth between england and spain to visit as well, though you think a lot of that you could thank alexia for as the girl knew sometimes you grew homesick and would encourage the invitation.

many times she'd tried to organise for the three of you to go back to england, but you were firm on your stance you wanted amalia to get a little older before putting her through the stress of a flight and a holiday.

you smiled in amusement as you caught sight of your girlfriend waiting for you by the gate, pulling open the car door before you'd even stopped properly and sliding into the back beside amalia's carseat.

you cleared your throat as your daughter was showered with kisses and you were not, alexia smiling guiltily and leaning forward over the console to greet you as well, apologizing softly against your lips.

"should we take the stroller?" you asked after you'd parked, amalia bundled up in alexia's arms in a little barcelona onesie, and seeing the way your girlfriends face lit up at the sight of it melted your heart.

"no, they will all want to hold her anyway." alexia rolled her eyes and you chuckled, locking the car and clicking your tongue at the girl who grabbed the baby bag off of you.

"cariño i can carry something!" you insisted as the midfielder shook her head, shutting up your protests with a kiss as the pair of you made your way through the carpark toward the elevator.

"oh did someone have a good nap today princesa? tan soñoliento!" alexia cooed, bouncing lia with a soft smile as you leaned your head on the taller girls shoulder, both of you watching as she started to wake up a little more.

with lia sleeping about 14-16 hours a day ideally, there were slim windows when you could take her out and about, and her little puffy face after she'd just woken up never failed to melt both you and alexia.

it was safe to say that despite the firm boundaries you'd put in with your girlfriend not spoiling your niece, all of that went out the window when it came to your daughter, both you and alexia buying anything and everything for the tiny brunette.

"sí that is your mami's nose!" you laughed as lia grabbed at alexia's face, blowing a spit bubble as alexia blew a raspberry on her cheek and she gave a gummy smile.

"su pelo crece tan rápido!" the blonde marveled, twirling a small ringlet of hair wide eyed as lia babbled and grabbed her nose again, the elevator stopping at the right floor and you hummed.

everyday without fail one of you point out the inevitable fact that your daughter was changing. if it be her hair was thicker, a new freckle appeared, an item of clothing seemed marginally tighter.

and there was nothing either of you found more overwhelmingly beautiful than baring witness to the tiny human being you'd both created growing up before your very eyes.

you'd both been making an effort to speak english and spanish around her as much as possible, wanting her to grow up able to speak both despite the fact she'd be living in spain, but england was still home for you and alexia wanted that for amalia as well.

"amor maybe it is too soon." alexia stopped suddenly, a few feet from the closed changing room door with nerves painted clearly into her features, eyebrows furrowed into a frown of uncertainty.

"hey, ale. baby." you nudged her shoulder as her eyes dropped down toward you. "lia brings us so much joy, it would be mean not to share that with everyone else. you know they will be careful and gentle, but they will also be very very excited!" you smiled reassuringly as your girlfriend nodded, still seemingly hesitant.

"give her to me. you can go in first, make sure everything is fine and we will come in once you're happy. okay?" your hand tenderly caressed her cheek as again the blonde nodded, pressing an appreciative soft kiss to your lips and slipping amalia into your awaiting arms.

"well if it is not my favorite little god daughter!" you were pulled from your thoughts at the voice behind you, turning to see ingrid walking toward you, her ankle taped up.

"i just rolled it during training. it is nothing too bad!" she assured watching your face crease with concern as you noticed, cooing her hello's at amalia as she gave you a side hug careful not to bump her.

"so you have been taken off of house arrest?" the norweigan grinned making you laugh, ingrid poking at your daughters feet and beaming at the little giggles which she was rewarded with.

"mm she is probably in there making them all wash their hands five times and form an orderly line." you chuckled knowing your girlfriend all too well, the girl in question poking her head out of the change rooms and calling your name.

"oye! cata no you put that down!" she darted right back inside with a yell making both you and ingrid share a look and grin. you heard chatter as ingrid pushed open the door for you, but everything fell silent as you and amalia stepped inside, many pairs of eyes trained on the two of you.

then suddenly it erupted, everyone cooing and fussing and crowding around you, ignoring your girlfriend trying to boss them all back into line and yelling at them to be quiet, basically talking to the walls as not a soul was listening to a word she said.

glancing over to her you very carefully handed amalia over to frido, mapi and ingrid both assuring you they would keep a close eye over their goddaughter as you gently pushed your way out of the crowd.

"hola grumpy." you teased at your girlfriend sat on the bench with a face like thunder, eyes still sharply trained to your daughter but they flickered to you as her lip curled downward into a slight pout and you took a seat next to her.

"te dije que estarían emocionados." you reminded softly, alexia just crossing her arms over her chest, watching as your daughter was passed around and marveled over, mapi staying right by her side the entire time.

"like the lion king." you joked quietly bumping your hip into the footballers, both of you having watched the movie in question easily a hundred times over the years given it was your niece layla's all time favourite.

"if any of them lifts her up like that-" alexia began to stand as you tugged on the back of her training top sending her back down onto the bench.

"they won't. look, mapi is right with her and you know she would not let anybody harm a single hair on amalia's head. remember the cafe?" you reminded as alexia pulled a face.

it had been one of the first times you'd taken lia out in public since she was born, you and alexia meeting mapi and ingrid for breakfast not far from your apartment.

everything had been going well and after lots of cuddles from her godmothers lia was soundly asleep in her stroller which was safely tucked in between you and alexia.

it had all happened in seconds.

there had been two young boys riding skateboards, not watching where they were going they'd gone flying past and almost knocked a poor waitress over who accidentally spilled a coffee all over you, a few drops landing on amalia and the noise of everything jolting her awake, her cries sounding loudly as alexia scooped her up.

before anyone could even speak mapi was up and on her feet, charging over toward the boys and yelling at them in spanish so fast even you and ingrid struggled to understand what was being said.

you assured the waitress over and over it wasn't her fault, the horrified young girl in tears as ingrid stood up to collect her girlfriend who was still telling off the boys who'd gone ghost white in embarrassment, backed against a wall as the footballer yelled at them.

you stomped on your own girlfriends foot and send her a harsh look, nodding toward the poor girl still with tears in her eyes as alexia sighed and gently assured her it was fine, and that it had just spooked your daughter but she was entirely unharmed.

"i do not think those boys will ever touch a skateboard again." alexia hummed at the memory, the ghost of a smile on her lips as her arms uncrossed, one draping across your shoulders as your hand rested on her knee.

"look at her mi amor, she is so so loved, surrounded by her tías."

neither of you were surprised that after such a big day of meeting people amalia was barely able to keep her eyes open when you got home, the pair of you taking turns to try and keep her awake for at least another hour as if she fell asleep now she'd be up around two in the morning.

"-and bebita do you know why your mama and i love each other so much?" you paused by the door to your daughters room, melting at the sight of alexia laid down on the floor with amalia sat up on her chest, supported by your girlfriends strong hands.

"because of you! nuestro amorcita. together with our love we gave each other you, and we love you bebita! muy muy muy muy mucho." alexia cooed softly, kissing your daughters little hands as she squealed.

"the most perfect little girl in the world." you agreed, alexia looking up with a lovesick smile as you entered the room, laying down beside her as your girlfriend bounced amalia up and down on her chest.

"it really suits you, being a mami." you complimented, kissing your girlfriends cheek and watching as a slight blush crept up her neck, relishing in the fact you pulled this more shy and softer side out of her.

"does this mean you want to call me mami too?" the blonde gave you a wolfish grin, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively as you rolled your eyes.

"do you smell that?" you sniffed the air, alexia frowning and pulling amalia a little closer, smelling her clean diaper. "not the bebita." the catalan shook her head, clearly confused.

"oh! no, lo siento it is the smell of your shitty flirting." you warned and hit her shoulder, amalia giggling and blowing a spit bubble.

"oh do you think that is funny lia?" you cooed, flicking alexia's ear as again amalia giggled. "your silly mami thinks she is so funny too!" you harshly pinched alexias cheek as she whined and amalia gave a gummy smile, smacking her hands down on your girlfriends chest.

"ya me están atacando." the blonde mumbled with a pout that you leaned over and softly kissed away. "mmm get used to it putellas." you teased with a wink, turning your shared attention back to your daughter.

~

you smiled and waved, alexia using amalia's little hand to wave back as she stood in the pool, your daughter safely in her arms as the instructor called out they were about to begin.

"so she has no idea?" alba asked quietly beside you as you shook your head, a grin of delight on your face making the younger girl chuckle. "oh she is going to kill you chica." alba mused with a shake of her head and a smile on her lips.

"eres mujer muerta." "mm maybe, worth it though." you winked, both you and alba waving wildly at amalia as alexia moved into the circle of other mothers.

you'd both been in agreement you wanted amalia to learn how to swim as soon as possible, given that you and alexia loved the beach and she did too, and you hoped growing up your daughter would continue a love for the water.

normally you would be the one to take amalia to the mami and me swimming lessons due to alexia's training schedule, but feeling an enormous sense of fomo alexia had made an arrangement with the club to finish early every second tuesday so the pair of you could take turns.

skin to skin contact was so important while amalia was little and even if she wouldn't directly admit it you knew alexia had deep seeded insecurities about not spending enough time with her in that way.

she'd floated the idea of having less commitments, but you knew football meant the world to her in a different way and she was years off retiring, and you'd support her in anyway possible.

so compromise was key, and you did everything you could to assure she had every single opportunity to bond with your daughter, never taking for granted that you had it easier with being home with her most days.

"-and now we will sing the swimming song!" you and alba stopped your conversation at that announcement, grinning at each other and watching your girlfriends face drop.

"it has been nice knowing you, i will make sure lia grows up knowing her mama loved her." alba sighed squeezing your knee as you laughed and shoved the younger girl, alexia shooting you a beyond murderous look as the backing track started.

"today we go swim! today we go swim! what do we need? before we get in! what do we need? before we get in!" the instructor sang, clapping along to the beat as all the other women in the pool bounced their babies and sang along.

"our shoes come off! our shoes come off! we put our swim cap on! our swim cap on!" the song continued as you and alba clapped along, the younger putellas recording on her phone as your girlfriend was beet red, merely mumbling the words as the song repeated itself.

"lia's mami we can't hear you!" the instructor cooed and you collapsed into alba covering your mouth as your girlfriend was put on the spot, the other mothers turning to look at her as alba grinned and zoomed in.

"eh our shoes come off! our shoes come off! swim cap on! swim cap on!" alexia sang loudly but very off key, cheeks as bright red as the crest of the barcelona towel sat at your feet awaiting its use later on, you and alba near choking at trying to contain your laughter as the instructor turned and cleared her throat with an unimpressed look your way.

"and now the dance break! bounce your bebitas chicas, bounce them and dance with them!" the instructor called out as alexia's ears went bright red watching everyone take turns one by one to dance in the middle of the circle, how was this considered a swimming lesson?

you'd not seen your girlfriend look as relieved as she did when the song finally finished, not even after the final whistle at a champions league final and you thought just maybe she'd have rather had a million and one eyes on her to take a penalty than the fifteen or so women mulling around the pool.

"hola sexy!" you whistled with a wink as a soaking wet alexia made her way out of the pool and toward you, alba having left already picked up by a friend for a dinner date.

you bit back your grin as your girlfriend stayed silent, shooting you a filthy look and snatching the towel offered her way, stomping off toward the showers to dry and change amalia as you sent a text to her sister asking for the videos she'd taken.

around fifteen minutes later alexia returned, changed into a pair of shorts and a hoodie, hair damp and pushed to one side of her head with amalia wrapped up in a little hooded giraffe towel your sister had gifted you when she was born.

"no." the girl grunted as you cooed at how utterly adorable your daughter looked, trying to take her off the footballer who scowled at you and stomped off out of the pool, making you chuckle as you quickly followed after her.

stopping to pay for the lesson by the time you got to the car amalia was already buckled in, alexia tickling her stomach with a sickeningly soft smile at the little giggles it rewarded her with.

however as you arrived the scowl returned to her features as she closed the door and slid into the drivers seat. but as you tried to do the same you frowned when the door was locked, trying to pull it open with a grunt.

"alexia! mi amor open the door." you tapped on the window with a laugh of realisation that she'd locked you out, raising an eyebrow at her behaviour.

"baby come on, let me in por favor." you asked with a smile, the blondes gaze remaining firmly forward not even sparing you a look. "okay! well i gave you the chance." you sighed, clearing your throat and stepping back a little from the car.

"today we go swim! today we go swim!" you started to sing very loudly, alexia's head whipping toward you with wide eyes, your arms gesturing up to the sky as a few people around in the carpark looked at you like you were crazy.

"what do we need? before we get in? a dance break!" you announced, wiggling and moving your body around like a madwoman as alexia's eyebrows shot up so fast they almost hit the roof of the car.

"aye dios mio, get in tonta!" alexia reached over to unlock and open the door, stretching out to hook a finger through the belt loop of your jean shorts and yank you down into the car.

you could barely contain your laughter at the sheer horror on her face as you closed your door, grabbing onto the seats as she sped off out of the carpark and you hurried to click your seat belt in.

"stop laughing at her mija, you will encourage her!" alexia huffed, turning around to give your daughter a playful glare as she continued to clap and giggle at the way you continued to dance in your seat.

"mama is a terrible dancer."

~

"cariño are you really going to be all pouty and grumpy all afternoon?" you laughed, returning to the bedroom after getting amalia down for her last nap of the day before bed, finding alexia tucked under the covers with a sour look on her face.

her plans to go for a run had been squished by the sky opening, the rain torrential outside as water drops splattered angrily against the window panes of your apartment.

"aleee." you cooed, crawling on top of her and sitting yourself down on her lap, the girl looking right through you with a straight face. "venga mi amor you cannot stay mad at me." you grinned, thumbs stroking over her eyebrows and trying to tug them out of the steel frown they were curved into.

"alexiaaa, vamos. smile!" your thumbs moved to try and squish her mouth into a smile, her eyes finally finding yours with an evil look. "you will get wrinkles if you frown too much abuela." you teased, her mouth forming a small o.

"no! ale!" you laughed as she tried to shove you off, wrestling with her to stay on top as your arms locked around her neck. "abuela! wrinkles!" the catalan scoffed repeatedly, a noise of surprise leaving your mouth as suddenly she flipped the two of you.

"you did not tell me there was singing!" your girlfriend huffed, pinning you down to the bed with another scowl as you smiled up at her. "you did not ask." you wiggled a hand free and poked at her nose as the footballer groaned dramatically and flopped down on top of you.

"alba is going to show everyone those videos." her words were muffled against your skin as her head tucked its way into your neck and she felt your body vibrate with amusement beneath her, arms slipping up the back of her shirt and nails scratching at her back.

"sí, and they will see what a good mami you are amor, spending quality time with our daughter and teaching her how to swim." you assured gently, alexias head shooting up and frowning down at you.

"swimming! there was no swimming princesa! only singing, and floating, and dancing and ugh, humillación." she flopped back down making you laugh at her dramatics.

"she is not even half a year old baby, surely you did not expect her to be doing laps?" you teased, squirming at her fingers which pinched at your side, rolling off of you slightly as you ducked your head and pecked her lips repeatedly.

"is this your way of saying sorry?" "no, it was worth it to see how red your little cheeks went in embarrassment. but i think we need to work on your dancing for next time!" you teased, squealing at her cold fingers which poked at your side.

"no no no ale please!" you tried to dart away, her hand catching the back of your shorts and yanking you back down onto the bed. "say sorry!" your girlfriend demanded, sitting on top of you as you squirmed and begged for her to stop, fingers tickling at your side and your shirt half over your face as you tried to wiggle down the bed to get away.

"i'm sorry!" you gave in with a breathy laugh, alexia's frown now gone and replaced with the same stupid lovesick grin mapi was always teasing her for having when she was around you.

"dilo en español." your girlfriend smirked, digging a finger beneath your armpit as your face went bright red and your stomach ached. "lo siento!" you managed out, exhaling and trying to catch your breath as finally she stopped, sliding off of you as you halfheartedly smacked her and she sighed, head tucking into your neck again as she pulled you close.

"amor i think the worst part is i am going to have that stupid song stuck in my head for weeks!"

[a-b-riddle]

Part 8

You had planned to spend Sunday morning nursing a hangover with Mere and Tabitha, but after last night’s events you had decided to catch up on organizing the shop while putting your phone on do not disturb.

You had turned your location services off in hopes that for a few hours the world would just leave you the fuck alone.

A few hours was all you were given before a tapping came on the front door of your shop around noon. Peering through the glass window, you spotted him.

He was holding a huge brown paper bag looking at little worse for wear since the last time he showed up. You debated on ignoring him. He had missed the early morning shower otherwise you really would have left him outside.

Bastard.

"John-" When you opened the door, he entered immediately. No doubt guessing you planned to slam the door immediately after telling him to fuck off.

He would have been right.

"Please," you say flatly before closing the door. "Do come in." After last night, after this week, the last thing you wanted to do was see anybody. Him, Johnny, Simon, Kyle, fucking Meredith or Tabitha. Why was it so hard for a person who had very few people in her life, all of which were on the skirts with her, to leave her alone for a single day?

"Well?" You asked when he said nothing. He cleared his throat, as if preparing himself for a long, drawn out speech.

Instead he handed you the bag, the smell hitting you. Warm and welcoming. Price was the only one out of the four who could cook a damn good meal, which made him extra picky when it came to eating out. “Wanted to check in.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets, not knowing what to do with them now. “Simon said you had a rough night.”

You scoffed at the understatement. "Yeah," you hated this. You didn't want to tell John about your shitty night with your even shittier friends. "It wasn't the best night out."

"So you know that bloke who got handsy or was he just some random prick?" Your mouth fell open in shock. You didn't expect Simon to be such a fucking gossip. And how fuckin' dare John for thinking he had any right to know who was grabbing your ass and your involvement to that person.

No. Fuck that.

"We're not doing this," you said putting the bag on an empty display table. Fuck. You need to go ahead and unbox that shipment in the back.

"What?" He asked, oblivious as to what he said that was wrong. You push heel of your hands into your eyes, trying to stop the headache that was threatening to form. "Some prick took a feel of ya' and I want to see if-"

"If what?" You cut in. "If I need some comfort at being utterly fucking humiliated at Simon going all caveman in front of everyone and dragging me outside like a child? Or do you want to finish want Simon start with almost killing him!"

"From what I heard, he didn't kill him," John's audacity to correct you as if Simon's restraint was remarkable baffled you. "There's something to be said about that."

"He held him by the neck in the air like a ragdoll. He choked him out in the middle of the pub."

"But," he held up a finger. "he didn't break his neck. He knew you'd be upset."

"You're not seriously defending him right now." You could feel your blood pressure rising. Your lid ready to blow like a fucking kettle.

"From what Simon said it didn't look like the attraction was mutual." That gave you pause. Simon told John it didn't look... mutual. Could Simon tell you were uncomfortable? Did he hear everything Percy said?

Where the fuck did Simon come from anyway?

why the fuck was he at the pub in the first place???

Your mouth hung open for several beats. Any longer and a bug could fly in. But fuck if it didn't feel like cold water had been dumped on you. Why and how did Simon think it wasn't mutual? Why did he care??? Why was he acting like he didn't?

"He-" You began, trying to think of what to ask only to simply screech out "What?" John held his hands up in surrender. Your kettle whistled. You were pissed. More pissed than John had ever seen you and it was still a miracle you hadn't hurled the take out at his head.

"All I'm saying is if he grabbed you without an invitation and Simon saw, the prick is lucky to be alive, much less still walking around with hands."

"Si-" you started. "He-" You clinched your fists so tightly your nails painfully cut into the palm of your hand. "UGH!" You stomped your foot. It was childish, but you didn't care. "I don't need him rescuing me goddamit! I don't need any of you pissing on my legs like a fucking dog and-" you didn't stop. You weren't sure how long you carried on verbally lashing John nor did you give a single flying fuck.

Fuck him. Fuck Simon. Fuck all of them. They didn't get to stalk you and relay information like gossiping fucking school girls. They didn't get to break your heart and believe that you would let them piece it back together. They didn't get to neglect you only to realize you knew your worth. Only giving a shit until you walked away.

You went on and on until your throat ached. You weren't sure what thoughts had left your lips. You weren't entirely sure all what you said. All you knew is that you didn't feel any better. The look on Price's fallen face didn't give you any relief. You took it out on him and you were still hurting.

"Why?" Your voice was hoarse and pleading. "Why won't you guys just fucking leave? You were barely staying in it when we were together? Why now?"

He took a tentative step forwarding. His hands started to reach out to touch your arms before falling back down at his side. He knew he had lost the right to touch you. To comfort you.

"I miss you, Dove." He confessed it as if it would somehow make it all better. "We miss you." You try not to let it phase you, but fuck you were made of flesh, not stone. No matter how angry furious disgusted absolutely devastated you were with everything that happened, with what they did and didn't do, you still, or at least had, loved them. That love didn't vanish over the span of a week. Lord know your broken heart hadn't. "We'll do better."

"It's not that simple." You shook your head, your palms covering your eyes as they began to prickle. You hoped the motion would come across as tired frustration, but John knew. It was your tell. You were close to crying. You always rubbed your face when you were upset.

"It is." He said, finally taking the chance to touch you. Even if it was just to hold your hands in his calloused ones. "We mucked things up, let us fix it. Give us at least the change to be better."

"How?" You asked. "Stop fucking yelling at me for a couple of months until something makes you blow your fucking lid and I'm left feeling like a little kid who's in trouble?" You were surprised not to see him flinch away, but the soft look in his eyes was enough to break your heart all over again. "Or Kyle actually showing up for dates? Johnny not treating me like a fuck buddy?"

"We haven't been good to you." He admits and you still don't feel better. Leaving them hasn't made you feel any better. Only angrier. Yelling at him didn't. Fucking Johnny and breaking his heart didn't. Maybe Mer had a point. Just not with Percy. "We all wanted you and slacked off in doing right by ya."

"So what?" You press. "You want to resume where we left off? I just take you all back and work through the fact of how shitty you all were and hope that you make it up to me?

"No," he shook his head. "Not like that."

"Then what?" You asked.

"I'm fighting for me and you. No one else." You didn't know what to say. The four of them had always been a part of the deal. All or nothing. I mean, the fact that you even entertained the idea of being with all of them was the reasoning that if one of them had went down on the field, three more were there to take care of you.

"If the others can get their own shit together great." He shrugged his shoulders. "If I can't and they can, that's fine too." He stared in your eyes and for a moment, you thought about the first time John apologized for getting angry. Not at you, just in front of you. How he had gotten on his knees and told you the last thing he wanted was for you to be afraid of him. To look at him the same way recruits looked at him. "But I think where we failed was all of us was expecting another one to pick up the slack."

That much was true. Where others failed, others thrived. Simon always stayed after sex, Johnny never raised his voice, John was insistent on going on dates, and Gaz was emotionally available... when he was around at least.

"I know I wasn't the man I needed to be. I wasn't the man you deserved. I took things out on you that weren't your fault. I spoke to you in a way that if any other man did, I would knock him right the fuck out." He shook his head before giving your hands a squeeze. "I'll do what I need to do to set things right between you and me. I'll put in the work to do whatever it takes to have you trust me again."

"It wasn't about not trusting you." You counter

"But it is now." He said. "You don't trust me to respect you; to show kindness, patience. And I know I have my own shit to sort out before even thinking about us being like we were. When things were good, I mean."

You don't know what to say, but you can't say he's right. You don't trust him. Not with your heart. Not anymore.

Moments of silence pass before John lets go of your hands and takes a quick survey of the boxes around you. Your background music of Van Morrison still playing softly from the speaker near your computer.

"You seem busy, so I'll let you get to it." He takes in a deep breath. You're expecting another spiel about how he promises to work on it. Just to give him a chance. You're actually worried you'll consider it. "I picked up your usual. Figured things haven't changed that much since we last went to our spot down by the river."

"Haven't been there in a minute."

"You wouldn't." He said. "Closed the place and moved shop. It's over by the park."

"The one with the asshole geese or the one where Johnny and I were flashed by that guy strung out?" That makes him laugh. You can't remember the last time John laughed. The way his eyes crinkled and his smile shifted his whole face into something entirely joyous.

You missed it.

"Asshole geese." He answered before turning and heading to the door. You didn't speak until the chime of the bell rang.

"What if the others don't?" You ask before he had the chance to close the door. "Get their shit together, I mean."

He turned, giving you that signature closed smile that makes him look like a quokka. You told him that once and he had to googling before arguing that he didn't look like the world's happiest rodent. "That's on them. I have my own work to do." His smile dropping into something softer. Something pleading and pitiful. "But, we still want this. We all still want this. Want you."

You shook your head. The threat of tears returning as you realized how wrong he was. Maybe he did. But not all of them. "Simon doesn't." you huffed, arms crossing over your chest. "He's made that much clear."

"That I don't believe." He shook his head. "Not for a minute."

"Believe it." You sucked in air through your nose as if trying to clear it. Price knew he had to leave. He knew he couldn't see you cry. He knew you wouldn't want him to even if he wanted to stay and make up for all the times he was the reasons behind your tears.

"I didn't do what I needed to and I'll do whatever it takes to get you back." He promises. "But if it came down to it... if you want to settle down and just chose one of us to have you, to keep you," he took in a deep breath. The next words like a knife twisting in his chest. "I wouldn't truly love you if I didn't tell you that Simon is the only one of us who deserves you."

"Why?" You knew in that moment Simon hadn't told John about that night. About his cruel words and your realization that he was right. There was never a true happily ever after with them.

"Because he's the only one willing to hide in the shadows and let you live your life," his smile now gone completely. "I'm sorry that I'm too selfish to do that."

[annwrites]

⸻ sons & daughters. part five.

· pairing: cregan stark x velaryonprincess!reader · type: part of a series · summary: your heart is broken multiple times in one day & just when you feel at the end of your rope—unable to take anymore—your heart is mended by another's loving, steady hands. · word count: 7,815

When you wake the next morning, it is with a sense of belonging. For the first time in all your life.

A contended smile spreads across your lips as you snuggle further into your furs.

Furs which still smell of him.

Last night, you had begun to drift off in Cregan’s arms, your body feeling light and warm, so he had picked you up and carried you over to your bed, so you might rest.

He’d bent down, pressing a kiss to your forehead, then brushing one over your lips, and as soon as he made to step away, you’d reached out for him, grabbing his fingertips, and asked him to stay.

He’d not refused. Instead, he had laid down next to you, wrapping you in his arms once more as the two of you continued to share soft kisses and gentle touches before you closed yours eyes for the night.

After breaking your fast, even if you had felt too excited to eat, Alia helps you dress. Afterward, you hug her with joy, to which she is quite taken aback, but she only laughs and tells you that you are welcome and she then leaves you.

You begin to open the door to your room, wishing desperately to seek Cregan out, just to be near him. Wherever he goes today—whatever he does—you only want to be beside him during.

And that is when you hear the news.

Your door is open no more than a crack—barely, at that—and you watch in silence at two older men go walking by.

“Yes, Lord Stark is most certainly considering a betrothal to the Lady Blackwood. It would do well to have such an arrangement in the possible wars to come. Their forces joined with ours would add volume to our ranks.”

The second man hums. “He has ruminated on the offer for some time. I believe it bodes well, however, that he has not rejected it outright. He is, instead, as always, acting with caution and measured thought. The loss of the Lady Arra was keenly felt by all, but it is time.”

You softly shut your door, pressing your forehead to it as your stomach twists so painfully it makes you wince—your bowels turning to water.

You’d trusted him. How…how could you have done such a thing?

Why did you not listen to Jace instead? He's a young man himself, and thus knows their ways of thinking.

Lord Stark had played you quite well, like that of a game of Cyvasse.

He’d slowly drawn you in by bestowing you with his attentions—pretending that he cared—and then had given you small touches and suggestive comments to preen your interest, showering you with gifts and compliments, until your head was spinning and you couldn’t think straight. Or, until all you could think of was love.

You had been raised in King's Landing of all places. What, then? Had you truly—in a matter of only a handful of days—forgotten how to read someone when they are lying to you?

And he had spoken of honor.

Mayhaps he has it, but not when it comes to you.

No. Never you.

And you'd let him into your bed. Nothing had happened—not yet—but now… Now you understood why he had asked for ‘more time’. More time to wrap you round his finger until he was able to finally claim what he desired from you, only to then marry another.

No one will ever want you for love.

You should’ve never started believing otherwise. Not for a day, or a moment.

Coming here had been a great mistake. You regret ever having met him now.

Tears sting your eyes and bile rises in your throat as you think of last night. You, seated in his lap as you allowed his hands to wander.

Whore.

That is what you are.

First, you had permitted Aemond to touch you in such ways—had let him to whisper and insinuate vile things toward you—and just allowed it—because you had actually enjoyed it.

You are not a princess who possesses self-respect. You are instead… You are your mother’s daughter. A mother who has now bedded how many men? You have her disposition.

Don’t you?

Harlot.

You squeeze your eyes shut, struggling to breathe. The room is too cramped. Too crowded. You feel like you are suffocating.

You wrench your door open, needing to be outside. You’ll go to the Godswood. You want to be alone. You begin to mentally pray that he stays away from you.

You need think on how best to word to Jace that you wish to go home now. You won’t tell him anything about Lord Stark because, no matter what has transpired between the two of you, you all need the northern army.

You will tell him that you are not faring well in this northern weather. That you have changed your mind. Going to the Wall would be—at least for you—ill-advised. A foolish thing to consider in the first place, as it is not a place for women. You will thus not intrude.

You nearly slip going down the stairs which lead into the Great Hall, but catch yourself, choking back a sob, your heart having jumped into your throat.

You walk briskly toward the doors which lead outside, and then with bleary eyes, step out. You lower your head, refusing to meet anyone’s gaze.

Alone.

You want to be left alone.

You wrap your arms round yourself, having forgotten your cloak.

You do not want the one he purchased for you now, knowing it is a lie. Same as the items he’d procured for you yesterday.

You will leave them behind when you go. You want nothing more from him.

It is just as you are about to pass the stables that you hear a young man calling for you. “Princess Y/N!”

You quickly wipe hot tears from your cheeks before turning back to him, refusing to meet his eyes.

“A raven came for you,” he states, holding a scroll toward you.

You gingerly take it from him with a slight nod. “Thank you.”

When Cregan emerges into the yard, a broad smile crosses his lips just at the mere sight of you.

Gods, how good it had felt to have you in his arms the night last.

You, curled into his side, tucked close with furs all around you as you dreamt—one of your soft, dainty hands resting over his heart, which now belongs wholly to you.

He had laid there for awhile—a long while (So long, in fact, that he had nearly fallen asleep beside of you, but refused to, even if he'd desperately wished for as much. He would not risk a servant, or even your brother—his new close friend—finding him with you in such a state, ruining your reputation; it means far too much to him. You do.)—imagining each night for the rest of his days being that way.

To have you lain bare beside him as he runs his rough hands along your soft body, telling you how beautiful and dear you are to him—that he will spend the rest of his days caring for and protecting you—he can imagine no finer fate.

The Gods blessed him by sending you to him.

You are meant to be together as one.

Now and always.

He had worried for so long after Arra passed that his grief would never cease, until it eventually turned to numbness. But when he set eyes upon you that first day as you looked around you in wonder at his home, his body awakened once more. After that, he could do naught else but think of you.

The morning he sparred with Jace, his irritation had partially been due to finding out you mayhaps loved another, yes, but also due to his advisors. If he heard the name 'Black Aly' one more time, he'd been sure he would fly into a black rage.

And he nearly had.

He didn't wish for her. He wished for genteelness. And there you were before him at last.

Cregan only manages not even a handful of steps in your direction before he stops, his brows furrowing as he watches your disposition suddenly change.

You stare down at a piece of parchment within your hands, looking at it in disbelief—near-agony—before turning your face upward, staring into the sky as if you're looking for...explanation. For something.

He needs to know what has happened.

And then you nod softly, looking forward again, a final look of resignation crossing your features as you quickly wipe tears angrily from your cheeks, a scowl settling onto your lips as you head toward the training yard.

Jace's smile quickly fades as he sees you heading toward him looking...not yourself. Pale, angry, utterly upset.

"Sister, what is—"

You hold out the missive toward him and he takes it with furrowed brows, waiting for you to say something—anything—but you instead remain silent, staring at him, waiting for him to read.

And so he does, his expression morphing into incredulity and then horrification. He begins to shake his head rapidly, his eyes meeting your own once again.

"This—this cannot be."

"It is."

"You cannot mean to—"

"I do."

He steps closer to you. "Dalton Greyjoy is a mad-man—a bloodthirsty beast. He already has over two score wives!"

You snatch the piece of parchment from him, quickly rolling it up and clutching it in a tight grip. "And now he will have yet one more."

You clench your jaw before continuing. "He has promised to make me his rock wife—his one true bride."

"They—they call him the Red Kraken, do you not know why?!"

"Because he is a fierce warrior of the Iron Islands. We will need men like him in the wars to come."

"You are better than this," he tries to insist.

And it is then that you snap. "This is what I am!" You shout, shaking the correspondence held tightly within your fist.

You force yourself to quiet, now that curious eyes are looking your way.

"He has a fleet of ships and fearless reavers. They will do us well against the Greens."

"We have a fleet through Lord Corlys," he snaps back.

"And now we shall have a larger one. As of this moment, I consider myself Lord Greyjoy's betrothed. He desires a princess, so a princess he shall have."

He shakes his head, grabbing your arm, desperate to talk you out of this.

You are not thinking clearly.

"You will be miserable there. You...you will waste away at Pyke as—as lonely and—"

You take a step back, yanking your arm from his grip. "As you said, he has a great many wives. Plenty to share in my misery. We shall do so together."

"What of Cregan? I had thought that the two of you...that something more was developing."

Your eyes turn hard, hateful. "We have nothing. He is our ally. That is all. I cannot wait for a proposal that will never come. I have one here and now, and I must take it before another claims him as their Lord Husband instead."

He scoffs, shocked at your flippant attitude toward a man he had been sure he had seen you only a day past looking at with love.

"I need you to promise me that come first light tomorrow you will return me to Dragonstone to inform mother that I have accepted and must be delivered at once to Pyke."

Tears sting his eyes. His sister. His twin. He...he can't just let you do this.

"Sister, please—"

"Promise me, Jace, or I will make arrangements myself."

There is a terse silence, and then he nods in surrender.

You turn to walk away then, unable to discuss it any further.

It is done.

"I had merely hoped for better prospects for you," he calls softly from behind you.

You stand with your back to him for just a moment as you quickly reply. "Better isn't coming, Jace. War is. And we must all play our part."

You continue on, mumbling, with a sneer, "Including me."

Cregan stumbles back at your words, hiding himself in the armory, eavesdropping through a window as you renounce yourself—your future—to one where you will be tore to a thousand pieces until not a single whole one remains.

All in the name of what? Your family winning a sea-faring battle or two?

You had said the two of you had nothing. Why...why would you think such a thing? Mayhaps because he had asked for time, and in this moment, you filled with doubt toward him.

No one will ever want me for love.

He has now made you think of him as just one more man who sees you as only what you are, instead of who. All the touches and suggestive looks...

Oh Gods, what has he fucking done?

He's about to lose you.

The future which he had envisioned, between waking fantasies and sleeping dreams now rests upon a precipice. One you are about to step over the edge of, never to return to him.

The thought of you there in one of those towering castles over the sea, staring out the window, empty and hopeless and heartbroken with not a single soul to save you from not just him, but yourself—a nightmarish fate—he can't bear the thought.

He clutches his chest, coughing, his heart squeezing painfully. An all-too familiar feeling he'd thought he'd long moved past some time after Arra's passing, but it returns to him now at the thought of you walking away from him. From the North.

It's your home now. It's meant to be. You are supposed to remain here where you most belong. The Gods themselves had ordained it.

He looks down to the scroll protruding from his pocket, meant to be flown to your mother to ask her for your hand, and he knows: his time to do things right by you has already run out in an instant.

There will be no asking her now, but instead you.

Your wishes are all that matter in this moment.

He has to save you. He...he has to keep you where you are loved and wanted and safe.

He steps out, heading back inside, knowing what he must now do.

Once you have returned to your chambers, you lock the door and step swiftly over to your wardrobe, ripping gowns from the hangers—you hear one tear, but care not—and begin stuffing them into the bag you had brought with you.

You angrily wipe gathering tears from your bleary eyes as you grab your shoes from beneath your bed and pack them away as well.

And then you spot it. The cloak he had gifted you.

You swipe it from the back of the settee and make to throw it into the fire, but pause, your fist hovering just before the flames, the black material softly swaying.

You then cry out in frustration and toss it into a corner.

No one will ever want you for love.

You throw your bag so hard against a chair that it scoots a few inches across the floor.

You then bury your face in the mattress and scream, clutching the sheets, the furs, losing yourself.

You gasp for air, hand settling over your abdomen as you try to calm it, fearing you may be sick.

No one will ever want you for love.

You tear at the back of your gown, you rip the sleeves off, as well as the neckline and it finally pools at your feet. You crawl into bed then and cry yourself back to sleep.

No one will ever marry you for love.

Your brows furrow.

You...you're not meant to be here. You don't want to be. Why have you returned to the Red Keep?

You step closer to a window. Snow...in the south and during the summer. Something isn't right.

Mama.

You turn down one hall and then another, until you finally reach your royal apartments.

When you step inside, she's there, but so is Daemon, the two of them twined around one another, their grasping hands dripping with blood.

"M-Mama?"

Her expression is that of indifference when she looks upon you.

Daemon smirks as he glances across the room. "You may call me father now instead."

You follow his line-of-sight and gasp, stumbling backwards, knocking something over.

A charred body lies half-inside the room's hearth, and not but a few feet from it, a golden cloak with a pile of ashes atop it.

Laenor. Harwin.

No.

No.

Not them.

Please not them.

You begin to wildly shake your head as you turn, yanking against the door's handle and when you emerge back into the hall, it has changed.

You're...you're in Winterfell, aren't you?

Dark wooden walls, braziers flickering softly, the howl of a wolf in the distant night.

"Cregan," you whisper to yourself.

He will help you.

You begin racing down the halls, heart beating wildly, unable to get that horrid sight out of your head.

And then you come to his door and you know you are safe.

You knock softly, and you hear feet padding toward you.

It opens.

"What is she doing here?" You hear a woman call from behind him as he stares down at you in irritation.

"I don't want you here," he says through clenched teeth.

You whimper in fear, tears stinging your eyes. "But—"

A lithe young woman comes around the side of him, raven-black curls falling over her shoulders, her form completely naked.

She glances to you with disinterest and then to Cregan. "Come back to bed. Forget about her."

He smiles, cupping her cheek, and nodding as he slams the door in your face.

You choke back a terrified sob, having no idea where else to now go.

No one wants you.

No one.

No one will ever want you for love.

You need to steal a horse and ride south.

To King's Landing.

Aemond.

Aemond wants you.

You will go to him. He loves you. Doesn't he?

Then perhaps we steal away in the dark of night, married in secret by a septon, you hear whispered in your ear from an indeterminable location.

Let us finally be free of our gilded cages, beloved niece. Together, he continues; you feeling familiar hands then holding you safely.

Yes.

Free.

You will be. Together. Just like he said.

"Sister, you must wake."

You go to swat Jace's hand away from your shoulder. "Leave me be, Jace. I wish to rest."

You shove your face into the pillow, exhausted.

"Lord Cregan has summoned us both to his solar."

"Whatever it is does not require me, I'm sure. Please, Jace, just go."

He sighs. "He has demanded us both be present. He says it's of utmost importance and cannot wait."

Your eyes slowly open, your stomach beginning to twist again. You don't want to see or be near him. Do not wish to so much as hear his voice.

The morrow cannot come soon enough.

You sit up, feeling dizzy. "Has word come from home? Has something happened?"

He shrugs. "He wouldn't say. It is why you must come at once."

You finally stand, grabbing the cloak which you rode in with and turn to him, not even bothering with shoes or proper clothing.

Jace thinks to tell you to put on a suitable dress, but when he looks into your eyes and see they are naught but void, he holds his tongue.

He wraps his arm round your shoulders as he leads you out and into the hall, and toward the awaiting Lord Cregan.

When the two of you enter the private meeting room, you merely stare at the floor as you take a seat beside Jace.

Cregan notes with dejection how you refuse to so much as look at him. How you look unkempt—your hair in tangles, only a thin cloak covering your frame, your complexion wan, and eyes puffy and red from crying.

Oh, his sweet girl.

But your pain will soon be soothed and all will be right once more.

You stare numbly out the open window to the right, drowning out whatever Lord Stark and Jace discuss. You do not much care. About anything.

Not anymore.

The full moon emerges from behind clouds, the evening sky gradually growing dark as night begins to fall.

Looking at the moon does not bring them back to you now. Nothing will.

They're gone.

Dead.

And then you wonder if Aemond can see it, too. If he is looking at it thinking of you as well. Would it be night in King's Landing? You doubt it, but when it is, perhaps he will share the sight with you.

The last time you saw him was the last, wasn't it? There would be no returning.

You hope he lets go of you and does not waste his days awaiting a girl who is now lost to him.

A tear slips down your cheek and your chin wobbles, your heart cleaving in two.

Jace is fortunate to have Baela, and Luke Rhaena. At least they will all have fondness in their marriages, if nothing else. What will you have, you wonder? A man who comes to you in the dark of night stinking of death and slick with blood as he claims what will then rightfully belong to him, even if you do not wish it.

What you want doesn't matter.

Mayhaps it never did.

A pawn to be moved about the board. That is all you are.

Mayhaps...you are not really here.

Another tear slips free and you sniffle.

Jace finally turns to you with an elated look upon his face. "What say you, then, sister?"

You slowly turn your head to look at him, your expression blank.

You blink once before standing, both men doing so as well.

You hold your cloak tightly around your trembling form. "Please, forgive me, Lord Stark, Jace. I do not feel well and wish to retire to my chambers to rest. I have a long journey tomorrow and will need it."

You go to step away, Cregan's heart beginning to break, but Jace grabs your arm. "Did you not hear what Lord Stark said?" He asks, his tone panicked.

You slip your arm from his grip. "Whatever is the matter, Jace, I am confident you and Lord Stark will resolve it together. My presence here is unnecessary."

You walk toward the door, your heart in your throat. You need to get out, need to get away from him.

No one will ever want you for love.

"Sister!" Jace calls.

"Princess. Y/N!" Cregan says, coming closer toward you.

Your twin spins you round to him, your back now pressed to the door.

You can't breathe. You just want them to let you go. You can't be here.

"Please, Jace, let me go!" You shout through blinding tears.

"Just—Y/N, listen—" he starts, but you step to the side.

"I don't feel well, please!" You choke out through violent sobs.

Gods, what is happening to you?

Finally, Cregan has had enough and lightly pushes Jace aside as he takes your face between his hands, even as you shove against his chest.

The feel of him...you do not want it. Why is he doing this?

"I have asked your brother for your hand in marriage."

You blink up at him, hiccuping, a long pause of silence.

"W-what?"

He brushes hot tears from your soft cheeks, his heart breaking at the sight of you being this distant to him.

"I would take you for my Lady Wife. Tonight."

"Why?" You ask with furrowed brows, mind spinning.

He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead.

"Because of your beauty, your grace, and your genteelness. Your strength and resolve to do what needs be done in the name of your family, even to your own detriment. You are loyal. And you love whom you love fiercely."

He runs his knuckles gently along your cheek. "I will admit that since the passing of my late Lady Wife that I have received a considerable amount of offers of marriage. None have yet tempted me. Until I set eyes upon you. I was captivated body and soul. The thought of relinquishing you to another who would not appreciate you..."

He shakes his head. "Who would not protect nor value you? Would not treat you as tenderly as I might? It grieves me to consider such a thing."

He takes a step closer. "So, let us prevent it: our mutual agony of losing what can so easily be ours. Agree. Take my hand. And remain in the North where you belong. By my side, where you belong. You said once that the North felt like home to you. Princess—Y/N—you feel like home to me. So do not take yourself from me in the name of a fleet of ships or a small army. I beg of you."

He leans down, kissing you, caring not for what Jace may think. "I will give you the might of the North—and you, the title of Lady of Winterfell and Wardeness of the North. I can think of no one more deserving."

You stare up at him, in disbelief, sure you are imagining this. Not hearing him correctly.

You break then, sobbing, unable to catch your breath as you drown in a sea of tears.

Cregan merely pulls you into his chest, his large hand cradling the back of your head as his other arm wraps round you to keep you close.

You don't see, but he gives Jace a silent look, asking him to leave the two of you alone for a moment.

He replies with a solemn nod, silently slipping out of the room.

Cregan presses his lips to the top of your head, your body continuing to quiver in fear.

"I'm so sorry," he whispers. "For allowing you to feel for even a moment that I do not love you."

You cling to him, your cries eventually quieting as a feeling of weariness instead overtakes you.

“What about Lady Blackwood?” You ask quietly.

He pulls back, continuing to hold you to him, cupping your cheek once more.

His brows furrow. “Where did you hear that name?”

“I…this morn, when I was about to leave my room I heard men in the halls. Passing by. They spoke of a betrothal to her. Rather, that you were seriously considering one…”

He understands then. You’d thought he’d been playing you like a wolf with its prey all this time, while another waited for him to take the hand of.

Gods, his poor, sweet girl.

Your eyes fill with tears again.

He tenderly tucks a lock of hair behind your ear. “For some time now my advisors have tried to encourage a union between us—between me and any highborn lady, in truth—so I might produce further heirs. I waited, however. I had married once for love and…”

He sighs. “If I had to marry again out of duty, I would have. But then you came to me, and the moment I set eyes upon you, something within me shifted. It was as if I had become alive once more. The thought of losing that feeling again—losing you?”

He presses an achingly soft kiss to your lips. “It would drive me to the brink of madness.”

He lowers himself to one knee then, holding your hand. “Y/N, I beg of you, in the name of the Gods—Old and New—be my bride this night. Be my wife. My Lady. Be…mine. Let me care for and love and cherish you for the rest of my days. Rather, our days. Do not take yourself from me only to hand yourself over to a monster. I’ll do anything just to make you say yes. So, please—”

“Yes.”

He stops, relief filling his very soul. “You will?”

You nod gently. “Yes.”

He stands on two feet again, pulling you back to his chest.

“Thank you,” he whispers.

You nod, your eyes fluttering closed, tears slipping down your cheeks as your heart finally calms.

“I don’t have a wedding gown,” you say quietly.

He nods. “I have something that may suit you. If it does not, wear whatever you wish. All that matters to me is that we become one this night.”

He wraps his cloak around you which hangs from his shoulders, for warmth, you enveloped in his arms.

“I love you,” he whispers.

You then stand on tiptoes, reaching for him and he leans down to meet your lips.

“And I you,” you reply, tears shimmering in your eyes.

Jace had been waiting outside as you and Cregan spoke and had been beyond pleased when your betrothed informed him of the good news—that you were to be wed this very night, because you had graciously accepted his proposal.

He could’ve nearly cried from the relief of it all.

His good friend settled—he could tell the young lord was desolate; raising his son all alone with no one of his own to love—and his sister, his twin, to be married to a strong and warm and honorable man.

He could not have imagined a better match.

He is only beyond grateful that a far worse one will now never come about.

So, Cregan had asked your brother to deliver you back to your chambers while he procured for you a gown.

And when he delivered it unto you, it took your breath away.

“It was my mother’s,” he’d stated, settling it into your arms.

Your eyes met his then, filling yet again with tears. “It’s beautiful.”

He had ran his fingers gently along your cheek. “She would have adored you just as I do. I think she would be…quite proud for you to be wearing her dress.”

You’d looked behind you, to your room, then back to him. “I truly hope it will fit.”

He'd nodded. “If it doesn’t, it is still yours to keep.”

Your smile had wobbled as you swallowed thickly. “Thank you.”

As Alia readied you for the ceremony, Cregan readied his household. He had promised you that tonight, things would be quiet and intimate. No grand gathering. That, if you wished for one, it would come later.

This evening was about the two of you and no one else.

You had told him vowing to be bound together for life was more than enough for you. Festivities were not necessary.  

The dress is a bit snug, but fits well enough, and it is beautiful. Lace trim, soft gossamer and silk, a long, flowing skirt, with a bodice in the shape of a heart, and the sleeves shimmer against firelight.

You’re grateful to Cregan for allowing you to not only wear, but have this dress. You suppose, in a way, it makes you feel closer to her: his mother. She must have been a lovely woman to raise such a man.

Your hair is long and flowing, with a crown of small white roses adorning your brow, pearls scattered throughout your curls. And you wear the necklace he gifted you of a small silver snowflake.

The final touch is a soft brown fur wrap—made of rabbit—which Alia lays over your shoulders before nodding her head. “I think that should do it, Princess. You look perfect.”

You take her hands in yours. “Y/N, please. This…this is going to be my home now. I would like…I’d very much like for us to be friends. Would you?”

She nods, smiling. “I would.”

Jace’s breath is taken away by your beauty. How you look every inch a northerner. How quickly you were able to transform into one… He wonders, now, if this place has not been awaiting your arrival all this time. Or, you it.

He offers you his arm. “Shall we?”

You take it, nodding. “Don’t let me fall.”

He presses a kiss to your hair, careful not to mess so much as a strand. “Never.”

“Father, Mother, Maiden, Smith, Warrior, Crone, Stranger. I am his, and he is mine. From this day, until the end of my days.”

The Septon speaks, finalizing the ceremony. “Let all bear witness to the union of Lord Cregan of House Stark, and Princess Y/N of Houses Targaryen and Velaryon, being now bound together as one heart, one flesh, one soul. Cursed be they who should seek to tear them asunder.”

A solitary tear slips down your cheek, and over your lips, which mingles between yours and Cregan’s as he takes your face between his hands, and kisses you long and deep. And passionately.

All cheer and laugh and smile, including Jace and Alia—your brother standing as Cregan’s best man, and Alia as your maid-of-honor.

And you know then, it was always meant to be him.

From the beginning, the Godswood in the Red Keep had been the place you went to for refuge and peace. Northern tales had always been your favorite as a child. And snowfall was something you’d desired to one day see—feel upon your skin—for as long as you could recall.

Even just a few days past, Cregan had wrapped you in his cloak before this very same tree. The Gods had known, even if the two of you hadn’t.

They always had.

Dinner is celebratory, but not exactly a grand affair. There is music and drink and hearty foods to be had, while a fire roars in the great hearth.

As the servants had been given short notice, in place of a cake, biscuits with jam and honey are served, which you and your new Lord Husband serve to one another, kissing each other’s face’s clean with many laughs and smiles.

A few journey into Winter Town to visit late-open shops and return with small wedding gifts: fine materials for you and colorful threads, books, and collections of decorative candles. You take all graciously and with a great many thanks, promising they will all be put to use. You even place a few of the candles atop the hearth’s mantle, their wicks flickering as people dance and converse.

For Cregan, he is gifted a couple small ornate daggers, and a pelt, along with a new whetstone. His insistence that he wants for nothing is ignored.

Once things begin to wind down, he turns to you, his hand sliding along your back, to then grip your hip and pull you close as he whispers into your ear “it is time for us to retire, my love”.

You merely lick your lips and nod.

You’ve never been in Cregan’s chambers before tonight. You suppose now they are also yours.

Your chambers.

And the first thing you notice is just how very organized he is. Unusual for a man, you deem. Unless, of course, that is in thanks to the servants having readied the room while the two of you were celebrating.

The door stands behind you and to your right is a large desk, with stacks of parchment, a collection of quills and an inkpot that you’re sure must be the size of your palm.

To the left is a row of hooks mounted to the stone wall, which holds cloaks and furs.

The mantle above the hearth has a long row of well-loved books placed atop it, with worn metal bookends in the shape of howling direwolves.

The same as your room, there is a large settee before the hearth, with brown and dark blue blankets lain across the back.

To the right of it, in the corner, is a wardrobe.

The opposite wall has a set of double-doors, the top portion of which are stained-glass windows that are the sigil of his house, painted in white and black and light blue, small, sheer curtains hanging over them. Beside those doors, a small square table for eating, with stuffed chairs on either side.

And finally, there is a large, four-post bed, turned down, with plenty of blankets and pillows and yes, more furs. On either side are wooden end-tables, and at the foot of the bed, a chest with cushions atop it.

You step over to the hearth and look at the large sword which is mounted on brass hooks atop it.

“Ice,” Cregan states, coming to stand behind you. “The ancestral sword of our house.”

Our house. It warms you to hear him say it.

You lean back against him, smiling softly as his arms wrap around you.

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt this…content before,” you remark.

He presses a kiss to the top of your head, before gently turning you around in his arms to face him.

He removes the flower crown from your brow, tossing it back onto the settee—perhaps you will press it into a book tomorrow for safe-keeping—before brushing a kiss over your lips. “I’ve not for a very long time now.”

He cups the back of your head, bringing his lips down to your own, his mouth moving slowly against yours, tongue tasting you as his fingers move to the back of your dress, unlacing it.

He kisses down your cheek and your jaw, coming back up to your ear. “Let us bind ourselves as one in this final way, my love.”

A pulse forms between your legs and you nod, your eyes fluttering closed as you push his cloak from his shoulders and it falls to the floor with a soft thud.

He brings his lips back to your own as he tugs your gown down, down, down, until it, too, has pooled at your feet.

You pull away for only a moment, gently folding it before placing it delicately upon the lounge.

He slips his fingers beneath the straps of your shift, and he grips either side in his hands and pulls it down your body.

He dips his head, kissing the tops of each of your breasts and your fingers tangle in his hair, a sigh escaping your lips.

His hands then slide lower, slipping your smallclothes from your waist, and once you have toed off your shoes, all that is left are your thigh-high stockings.

You reach down, gripping the tops of them, until you feel his finger under your chin.

“Leave them.”

With that, he cradles your body in his arms, carrying you over to the bed and he lies you back on fresh sheets as he stands at the foot of it.

You feel as if every nerve ending is exposed as you lie back on your forearms, your legs spread as you watch him undress himself.

He removes his jerkin, then reaches behind him, gripping his shirt back and tugging it over his head, his eyes returning to yours, watching how you lick your lips as he begins to unlace his breeches.

He had, admittedly, once wondered what the hair covering that most delicate part of you would be like in color. He is pleased to find it matches perfectly that which is atop your head.

He toes off his boots, then shoves down his trousers, along with his socks, leaving himself naked before you.

Your eyes widen as he takes his long, thick member in-hand and begins to stroke it.

Your eyes flit back to his, heat pooling between your thighs. Gods, you want him to touch you again.

Yours. All yours.

He takes a step forward, his thighs hitting the edge of the bed. “I don’t want for you to be afraid. I promise you that I’ll be as gentle as I can be.”

You shake your head.

“I’m not,” you reply breathlessly.

He nods, then climbs atop you, pressing his lips to yours and kisses you so achingly slow, removing his hand from himself and instead trailing it down your sensitive skin, your body jerking at the touch, a sigh escaping your lips as he moves to your neck, his fingers coming to explore your hot, wet core.

You gasp, wrapping your arms around his neck, the ends of his hair tickling your breasts as he moves his mouth lower, taking a peaked nipple inside of it, rolling it gently between his teeth.

Your back arches, his other hand slipping beneath it, holding you closely as his dextrous fingers spread your labia, gently massaging.

Your eyes roll back in your head.

“Oh, Gods,” you whisper.

You’ve touched yourself before. Many a time. But for another to do it—for him? You fear you may be reluctant to ever leave this bed—at the very least this room—after tonight.

He presses a hot, wet kiss between your breasts, then your stomach, his hands gripping your hips before he playfully peppers kisses on your cheeks and chin and nose, earning him a bubbly giggle from your lips.

He is glad to hear it. He doesn’t want you tensed up and anxious this night. He wants you to enjoy yourself. To experience just how pleasurable and intimate lovemaking can be.

His eyes gaze into your own, warm and full of love. “Are you ready, my darling?”

You nod, lifting your hips to meet his. “Yes.”

He presses his lips to yours, begins to rub the tip of himself against your dripping entrance—pleased to find you so ready for him—and he eases inside, breaking through your maidenhead.

You gasp against his lips, tears stinging your eyes.

He presses his forehead to your own. “Breathe, my love. Lift your hips for me again, darling.”

You do, and he sinks deeper, the pain quickly turning into something wholly different as he fills you.

“Gods,” he whispers in your ear as you clench around him for the first time.

He moves one hand into your curls, the other sliding down your thigh, lifting your leg onto his back as he begins to rock his hips against yours, a low moan emitting from the back of his throat at the feel of you.

You coat the length of him, the sound of your arousal meeting his ears as he eases out and then back in so, so slowly.

You lie your head back against the mountain of pillows behind you, soft furs lie beneath your sensitive, naked skin, the fire warming every inch of you.

You feel…somehow euphoric. The two of you joined together as one—literally—causes a small sob to escape your lips.

His head jerks up and he stares down at your tear-streaked cheeks. “Are you in pain? Should I stop—”

You shake your head vigorously. “I’m happy.”

He smiles before pressing his lips back to your own, easing back inside of you.

He then begins to lean up, gripping your waist and settling you into his lap, your bodies chest-to-chest as his hands tug against your hips, encouraging you to find your own pace.

You begin to undulate beneath his instructive hands, your body quivering as his callused palms rub against your back. He lies his head against your breasts and you run your fingers through the tangled strands of his hair, pressing soft kisses to the top of his head.

“I love you,” you whisper, your heart filled to the brim.

His lips come to hover over your own. “And I you.”

“I regret making arrangements for us three to travel to the Wall tomorrow with our retinue,” Cregan states, his fingertips ghosting across the soft skin of your back.

You lift your head, removing your hand from his chest and instead cupping his cheek.

He continues as he turns more toward you. “For I do not wish to allow you out of this bed for at least a sennight.”

He presses yet another kiss to your already swollen lips with a cheeky grin.

You smile, feeling a pleasant soreness between your legs where he has already spilled his seed thrice—once with your legs thrown over his shoulders as he pounded away relentlessly inside of you. That position… You’d been able to form naught more than garbled words and cries of pleasure during.

“Nor do I.”

You slide a leg between both of his. “Mayhaps we could reschedule our visit?”

“Wish that we could, but I already sent a raven, which may have already reached them. At the very least, will be shortly.”

He cups your cheek. “You should know that is why I wished to wait to propose to you. This morn, I had intended to send a request to your mother for your hand. And then I heard that you…intended to take another to husband. I merely wished to do things the right way. Not just because it is—right—but because I know how much your family means to you.”

You flush. “About that…”

He leans over you with furrowed brows, and you cup his cheek with a nervous smile. “I hope you do not find it presumptuous, but just before Jace and I took to flight atop Vermax, my mother told me that…due to your young age, and knowing that you are a widower…”

Your eyes flit from his chest, then back to his own. “She told me if love were to grow—if you asked for my hand and I felt it right; I desired it, then I was to give you both our blessing. So you already had it.”

His lip twitches. “All that upset due to naught more than misunderstandings on both sides.”

He takes your hand in his, brushing a kiss over your fingers. “I will forever regret that for even a moment you doubted the love which I now hold for you.”

You shake your head, curling your fingers against his stubbled cheek. “When did you know?”

“When I saw you with Rickon. That morn, I had gone to the Godswood to pray, asking for the Gods to give me a sign—any—if it was meant to be. For I wished for you—to have you. To claim you as mine own. Desperately. The conversation we had in Winter Town made me doubtful, if for a moment. It is…why I changed tactics,” he states with a raised brow.

“I wanted you assured that I was a man who chased after that which he desires most—that I do not relent easily—and that was you. But it was also a matter of whether you wished to be chased. Seeing you with my son, I knew that was at an end, and commitment was to be what remained. That we belonged together. As one.”

He presses a kiss to your warm forehead. “And when I heard you telling Jace…heard you ready to resign yourself to such a horrifying future, I knew the time I thought I had, had then run out.”

He brushes his lips over yours. “It shattered my heart to see you so…heartbroken tonight. You could not even stand my touch. To think I nearly lost you—”

You crush your lips to his. “I am yours.”

You climb into his lap, straddling him, easing him back inside of you.

He grips your hips firmly. “You are mine.”

[onmyyan]

Ain't no sunshine

A/N: neglected reader x yandere batfam part one if y'all like this I'll continue it feedback always welcome 🤗 part 2

Your mother always spoke so fondly of your father, this certain warmth fell over her whenever you asked about him, as if he was the great love of her life, but even at your young age, you could also sense the heavy air of sadness around her whenever you brought him up.

As a child, your curiosity about the man seemed to be never-ending, it didn't help that your mom talked about him, about how you'd meet him someday. She inadvertently set you up, instilling you with this unfortunate expectation of him being just as excited to meet you as you were him.

Having the city's most famous bachelor as a father felt like some weird dirty secret. Seeing him on TV with his adopted kids- how happy they looked filled you with such a profound sense of longing, a feeling you were far too young to understand. TV was the only reason you could even put a face to a name, he was constantly in the news. Your childlike curiosity and fondness for the man soured with each view of him wrapped around some model or cutting some stupid ribbon where the crowd around him applauds every time he so much as shifts.

Your mother never badmouthed him despite the way he so clearly abandoned her, she had this fantasy where he'd come walking in the door declaring his undying love, over the years you learned to simply smile and nod, you knew it was a delusion.

She never allowed herself to move on, it was something you'd forever hold against the man. He'd ruined your mom in a way she was incapable of recovering from and that alone had Bruce on your bad side long before the unfortunate day you were dropped in his life.

The woman loved and raised you as best she could but a single mother forced to support herself through her pregnancy, could only do so much. In truth, you'd been forced to grow up long before you were dumped at Wayne's doorstep. Your sweet mother had been caught in the criminal underbelly of Gotham, something that seemed to happen to many good people in this town, she turned to unsavory means to provide for you and it caught up with her quickly.

She worked double shifts so most days you had to walk home alone, thankfully the local scumbags of your neighborhood had a soft spot for the woman and in turn, you. Despite how dangerous and crime-riddled your neighborhood was, you never felt afraid walking home, not until the day the firetrucks went screaming past you, something about them had your stomach sinking, your little feet pumping faster towards your home, you smelled the smoke before you saw it, and you'll never forget the sight, how dark it made the already grey Gotham skies, how horribly loud the sirens were, the way your neighbor picked you up, shielding your eyes as he pushes you into his chest. You can still remember the heat from the flames as they consumed your small home. You stood unmoving, unblinking as the roaring fire destroyed everything you'd ever known.

To make matters worse, Jim Gordon, the chief of police happened to be the cop on call, and because of that he inevitably noticed something in your eyes, something in your face so strikingly familiar, that despite this being your first meeting, he could feel in his gut he knew you. It bothers him so much that he follows his hunch and does a blood test the second they get you to the station, his theory is confirmed when your DNA comes back matching the Playboy of Gotham City

Jim tries to comfort you but he knows you'll never be the same after losing your mother. He takes you straight to Bruce's door hoping your Father could help soothe the unimaginable hurt you were going through.

Bruce had no idea how to deal with you. In his defense, you happened to come into his life broken, needing guidance and parental love, at the worst possible time, the same day you're plopped at his feet is the same there's a massive breakout at Arkham, the casualties are already in the fifties, not to mention how high that number would jump the longer he left his more worrisome foes out.

In this mess of emotional turmoil, the last thing Bruce needed was a kid plopped in his lap, but it's what he gets. He was seconds from suiting up when Jim dropped you off.

With some half-assed excuse, you don't even really register, Bruce ushers you inside by the wrist only to drop you off with Alfred, he bolts to the batmobile in an effort to not waste any more of his time, knowing he could be saving lives.

He swore to himself once he fixed this problem, he'd give you his full attention, after all, he knew exactly what you were feeling right now, all the confusion and guilt, the anger and despair, he knew he was the one to comfort you, who'd be able to give you the support you needed.

The thing is, problems in Gotham are never truly quite fixed, are they?

Alfred doesn't know anything about your situation other than that you were Bruce's daughter, he can tell you're traumatized by the glossy look in your big eyes, how you limply held his hand as he showed you to the kitchen, he treats you kindly, speaking softly and getting you settled in your too big room in your too big bed, it felt so bare, so empty, it made that hollow feeling in your chest deeper.

This is the first of many nights you cry yourself to sleep.

The next day Bruce officially introduces himself, sitting across from you at a large table, the distance feeling three miles long. You numbly eat, taking small bites, not truly hungry, but you didn't want to hurt the nice Butler's feelings after hearing he made every elegant dish before you. You're still quiet and don't look happy to be here but you respond when Bruce asks you questions, wanting to be cooperative, because, despite the hellish situation, you need a parent right now.

He can only offer you this brief moment of connection before he's called away, Batman's job was never truly over after all. He gives you a stiff pat on your shoulder before leaving, it's the most he's touched you since you've come here.

At that moment, swallowing how uncomfortable you were in your new situation, you stop him with a gentle tug to his arm, eyes teary and wet, your young mind needed the comfort of a trusted adult, needed someone to look at you with a warm smile and tell you it was all going to be okay, but you can't ask for it... The words dry and shrivel on your tongue, so instead you simply stare at him, eyes full of a mix of emotions, silently pleading for him to stay, to hold you, anything, other than walk away.

But he doesn't, what he does is give you that perfect T.V. smile, the one you grew up seeing him give at charity galas and somehow it felt warmer through the screen, he removes your hand gently, "I'm sorry (Y/n), I really have to go, if you need anything at all Alfred can help you out okay? I'll be home soon." The smile he sends you doesn't reach his eyes as he rushes to exit, this is the first time your father breaks your heart.

The second time he breaks it is when he introduces you to some of the rest of his family. Dick Grayson needed no introduction as his adoption into the Wayne family had been heavily televised, his face was the one you were most familiar with, despite this, it was still odd to meet someone you'd grown up watching on your old little television with envy in your (e/c) eyes, the feeling of otherness was only amplified as you walked into the manor's dining room on what looked like a sweet familial lunch, the dark-haired man opens his mouth to greet you but is cut off by Bruce's stern voice, "(Y/n),

The third time Bruce breaks your heart is when Damian arrives, he shows up a good year after you, by now your were closest to Alfred, you'd made a habit of texting Dick and Barbara updates on Bruce and the homes state, considering they didn't live at the manner like Tim, and only ever rarely received texts back from Barbara.

The moment you meet your younger brother you can sense the difference between the two of you instantly. He looks like Bruce, standing tall despite being shorter than you, he turned his nose up at you as Bruce introduces him. Dick is there too, which makes things worse because of the visible effort he's putting into Damian.

You do your best to try to befriend him at first, offering to show him around the large manner to which he scoffs. Like you've offended him with your question.

"As if I need a nobody like you to show me around my home." He never hid his feelings of disdain, often and frequently letting you know just how inferior to him he thought you were, granted at this point Damian thinks this about most people, but it still felt like a knife twisted in your gut each time he ruthlessly rejects you.

It doesn't help that Bruce seems so eager to spend time with him, how they're always together when you had to fight him to spare you five minutes, they bonded so fast, it made your insecurities bubble over each time they scurry off together in a rush, you once grew brave enough to ask them if you can join but the second the request leaves your lips, Bruce is shutting it down.

"I'm sorry, I have business at the office I need Damian for, next time." Bruce says as they leave, his smile just as empty as his promise, the smug look Damian gives you feels like gravel and dirt being smeared into your carved open flesh.

You try to talk to Dick whenever he comes around, one afternoon, the rain is so heavy in Gotham you decide to stay home, a small voice inside you cruelly reminds you it was also a cheap ploy for some kind of attention from Bruce, by the afternoon you figure the school has alerted him of your absence, deciding to face whatever consequences awaited you, you go downstairs, subconsciously keeping your footfall light, a nervous habit you picked up after Damian said you shook the whole house when you walked.

You overhear him talking with Dick in the kitchen when you tiptoe down the stairs, you were quiet, so quiet they don't hear you, "How's the case going?" There was always this audible warmth in Bruce's tone whenever he spoke to Dick, "Fine, I got a lead I'm pretty confident with, gonna-" He stops talking as you step on a creaky floorboard. "My department is pretty confident that is." You round the steps with a small smile, but only Dick returns it.

"Hello, how've you been?" you'd ask earnestly, "Good thanks!" he'd say, but that would be it, the friendly man was never mean to you per se, he just had this terrible habit of forgetting you. You kept to yourself a lot, seeing you so rarely it felt hard not to forget when he had so much going on, not only in Bludhaven but Bruce had been calling him to Gotham more and more to help deal with Damian, he had his hands full, not to mention the sudden rise of crime in Gotham.

Barbara likes you, she really does, but being Oracle took up every moment of her free time, she was a focused woman and people in this town always needed her help. She had a room in the manner dedicated to her vigilante work, the villains were getting bolder and more frequent in their attacks and Bruce needed her help constantly. And it wasn't just him calling on her skills, everyone was constantly asking her for things because they knew she could get them, that's just how she was, everyone but you.

Whenever she was in the manner working, you were always the one to tell her dinner was done or remind her to drink water, and bring her coffee when she hadn't left her office all day, you were reaching out in a way that didn't overwhelm her, like you could see she was stressed, but she was like a horse with blinders on.

Tim meets you while he's still neck deep in his search for revenge against captain boomerang, which unfortunately means he's short-tempered and stuck in a permanent work mode, he's cross with his close family, so it's no surprise he's even quicker to anger with you, you're intentions are as pure as can be, you see him awake late into the night, his bedroom door open, and say genuinely, "It's so late Tim, maybe you should try to get some sleep-"

"Maybe you shouldn't stick your nose where it doesn't belong?" He snaps back without so much as looking away from his screen, he was already on edge, defensive as Bruce had been nagging him all day not to overwork himself, he says this with pure venom, so much irritation and malice it makes your bottom lip wobble, he doesn't see the way you flinch at his anger, the way you sink into yourself.

It seemed like each time you tried to reach out to them, to bridge the obvious gap between you, it just made things worse. His comment hit you like a bus, only furthering the nasty idea that had been gnawing at you since you'd arrived, you didn't belong here.

You didn't belong with them.

When you meet Jason, it's about a year and a half into your stay, you were in the same uncomfy position in terms of your closeness with the Family, or rather lack thereof, and the day you meet, things are bright for the first time since you've moved in. You're in the kitchen making yourself lunch when he stealthily climbs in through the window, this scares the shit out of you, having never met him before, you brandish your peanut butter-covered butter knife towards him, "Woah! Easy there, I used to live here I swear." Jason says clearly amused by your fierce stance, he smiles at you with a warmth you'd grown unfamiliar with, "Shit- sorry I thought you were a burglar or something." You say laughing off your nervousness, dropping the knife in the sink as he leans against the counter.

"And if I was..you planned on buttering me to death?" He teases, you feel yourself snort before you can stop it, "Maybe, consider yourself lucky we never have to find out." This makes Jason chuckle under his breath, it still felt extremely weird for him to be back here, just recently becoming cordial with Bruce, but he enjoyed your company. nonetheless.

"You're (Y/n) right? Bruce's newest kid?" He notices the way your smile falls, how you turn to finish making your lunch, the mere mention of his name seems to deflate your once bright aura. "That's me." You seem to say this with a heaviness that doesn't belong on someone so young, "Who are you?" He scoffs lightly at your question, before leaning over, swiping half of your sandwich with a playful grin, "Wow, they didn't tell you about me? Figures, whatever, I'm Jason." He shakes your hand, and for the first time in years you feel good like you weren't on the edge of fucking something up, but then Jason's watch beeps and he leaves. He gently ruffles your hair, "Good to meet you kid, see you around yeah?"

Jason was like the sunshine breaking through the clouds of your new life, but eventually, his own life gets busier and busier, his monthly visits turn into a short call every once, and not long after, even that stops, he's busy ripping Gotham criminals to pieces, consumed by his rage. He just assumes you're fine, that everything is okay, after all, you never complained about it.

You know something is going on with them, their hushed conversations and seemingly never-ending parade of bruises and mysterious cuts start to add up, the way they disappeared at night, but it's only on your fifteenth birthday that you finally figure out what they'd been hiding. Bruce and Damian suddenly rushed away from your birthday dinner, you turn on the news as Alfred boxes up the mostly untouched food, watching you blow out your candles with a sad smile., Bruce and Damian's portions go cold and untouched.

Batman and Robin arrive on the scene just a few minutes after your father and your younger brother dash away. it's only then do you really notice how similar the dynamic duo looks to your two family members.

This is the final straw, when you realize what they've been hiding under your nose this whole time is.. infuriating to say the least, all of a sudden the isolation and otherness makes sense, of course they excluded you, you weren't a member of their little club. This night is the last you spend yearning for them, the bitter, festering anger that had been building over the years only intensifies as you stew in your rage.

[hanasnx]

MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ WARNINGS: fem reader | dirty flirting | suggestive material | it’s not dubcon, it's just you and deadpool's dynamic.

Like a stray cat, a mercenary hangs around your neighborhood. At first he was cute, you'd leave some food out for him, he'd hit on you shamelessly and in a million different shades of dirty, and then you wouldn't see him for six months. It got old quick, especially because he didn't care that you weren't interested. As if flirting with you was a hobby, he didn't mind that he wasn't getting anything out of it besides your irritation.

It's late, but you might as well take your trash out. You didn't bother to cover up when it's hot and humid out. In a crop top and the littlest shorts you own, you step out, immediately greeted with the familiar tune of DEADPOOL's voice.

"Braless—brave." he notes, and you slump in place, turning to see how he lays precariously on the railing of the fire escape. He gestures to his own chest with a flourish of gloved fingers, "Me too. Burn 'em, I say. The 70's were good for something." He nods his head.

You sigh through your nose, dropping your bag to let it sag pathetically on the asphalt. "What do you want, Red? Blowing through my part of town coincidentally again?"

"Oh, no coincidence, sugar." he tsks, and wags a finger at you before gracefully swinging off the railing to flip to the ground. You roll your eyes at his showmanship, and retreat to the backdoor of your apartment building, followed leisurely by the Merc. "Can't a guy say he missed you? Visit suddenly without calling? Golly, a man can't partake in a little light stalking these days."

You round on him, pointing a warning finger in his mask when you catch him watching your tits swing under your shirt. "Nips are hard. Excited to see me?" he asks with enthusiasm, meeting your gaze and you guffaw at him, taken aback with a hand on your hip. "Turn around, lemme see the back again—"

"'Excited?' What part should I be looking forward to? Your outdated jokes or when you make passes at me until you get it all out of your system?" You lean forward, gesturing to your enunciating mouth. "Read my lips, Red, it's- not- happening." Unknowingly, you'd lowered your voice, that sultry tone lulling Deadpool into your direction like a pie on a windowsill.

"Oh, baby, if you could see my face, I'm grinning under this mask right now." he confesses, chuckling under his breath. "Love it when you play hard to get." He straightens to his full height, sighing with relief. "Your place or mine?"

"Red—"

"Seriously, you gotta give me a twirl or something, I'm getting blue balls over here. You take a little stroll in your little jammies and I've got a halfie, throw me a bone."

You scoff at his audacity, as fat and veiny as always, and back away. "I'll see you next time, Red."

"Hopefully you'll see this boner next time, it'll be waving to you like a flagpole flying my tighty-whities." he calls after you. He knows he's exhausted his welcome this time, there'll be another opportunity soon enough.