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d1stalker · 3 months ago

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Undercover Flames [Logan Howlett]

Summary: It was supposed to be easy: infiltrate the gala, gather intel, and report back. But when a mission takes a deadly turn, Logan is forced to confront his deepest fears as he races to save the woman who means more to him than life itself.

PART ONE OF TWO (part two here)

Warnings: Angst, kidnapping, canon-level violence, Logan goes feral, graphic descriptions, lot's of fighting, feels

WC: 10.8k - MASTERLIST

------

A black limousine pulls up to the grand entrance of the sprawling estate, its tires crunching on the gravel driveway. The mansion ahead is bathed in golden light, a beacon of opulence against the darkening sky. Inside, Logan’s gaze shifts to the woman beside him, his fellow teammate and the only person who can keep up with his banter. You adjust the diamond necklace around your neck, the gemstones glinting in the dim light. Logan has seen you in countless situations—on missions, during training, in the midst of battle—but tonight, in that floor-length black gown, you look like someone who belongs in this world of wealth and power. You look beautiful.

“Keep your eyes to yourself, Howlett,” you quip, catching him staring. A smirk plays on your lips as you adjust to fix your hair.

Logan grunts, pulling at the collar of his tuxedo. “Never seen you so dolled up before. Didn’t know you had it in ya.”

“I’m full of surprises,” you tease.

The two of you have been dancing around something deeper for years, hidden beneath layers of sarcasm and witty comebacks. But tonight, with both of you playing the roles of a married couple, the lines between reality and pretense are bound to feel thinner than ever.

Logan’s eyes linger on you for a moment longer, his gaze softening as he takes in the way the dress hugs your figure, the way your hair frames your face. You catch the look, and for a split second, the playful atmosphere between you falls away, replaced by a charged silence that neither of you knows how to break.

The driver opens the door, jolting you back to your senses, and Logan steps out, extending a hand to help you out of the car. You take it, your touch sending a familiar shiver down his spine. He holds onto your hand for just a beat longer than necessary, his thumb brushing lightly over your knuckles.

“Ready?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

Logan nods, his grip tightening slightly on your hand. “Let’s get this over with.”

As the doors to the mansion swing open, you’re greeted by the sight of a grand ballroom filled with the elite of society. Men in tailored suits and women in sparkling gowns mingle under chandeliers, their laughter and conversations blending into a hum of affluence. Yet beneath the glittering surface, Logan can sense the undercurrent of danger, the same instinct that has kept him alive for over two centuries. The people here aren’t just the wealthy—they’re the orchestrators of a new threat to mutants, a group so powerful that even the X-Men have to tread carefully.

“Stick close to me,” Logan murmurs as you step into the room. “These people are more dangerous than they look.”

You roll your eyes with a smile, your arm looped through his as you make your way through the crowd. “You don’t have to tell me twice. But remember, we’re supposed to be madly in love.”

He lets out a low chuckle, one that only you can hear. “Right. Madly in love.”

His words hang in the air between you, loaded with a meaning neither of you dares to acknowledge.

The two of you move deeper into the ballroom, and you can feel the weight of several eyes on you. It’s no surprise—Logan’s rugged demeanor and your striking appearance make for a captivating combination—nevertheless, you both know better than to let your guard down. This place is a viper’s nest, and any wrong move could cost you your lives.

“There they are,” you whisper, nodding subtly toward a group of older men gathered near the center of the room. “Our targets.”

Logan’s eyes narrow as he focuses on them, recognizing the group from the briefings. “Time to make some friends.”

With practiced ease, you and Logan approach the group, slipping seamlessly into their conversation. You introduce yourselves as a wealthy couple from out of town, interested in investing in the right causes. It doesn’t take long before the men welcome you into their circle, eager to impress and share their twisted ideals.

“Ah, Mr. and Mrs. Daniels, was it?” one of the men, a tall, thin figure with silver hair and a sharp jawline, inquires. His eyes are cold and calculating, a predator sizing up his prey. “What brings you to our little gathering tonight?”

“Opportunities,” you reply, a hint of seduction in your tone. “My husband and I are always looking for the right people to align ourselves with. When we heard about your… endeavors, we couldn’t resist.”

Logan wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you closer in a show of possessiveness that feels all too natural. “My wife’s got a keen eye for business,” he adds for extra persuasion, “And we’ve been hearing a lot about your group. Sounds like you’ve got big plans.”

The man’s eyes flick between the two of you, as if his suspicions still linger. “Plans indeed,” he says slowly. “But only for those who share our vision. Tell me, Mr. Daniels, what is it that you despise most?”

“Weakness,” Logan growls, his eyes meeting the man’s without flinching. “In this world, you’re either strong enough to survive, or you’re not. And I don’t have time for the ones who can’t keep up.”

A smile that doesn’t reach his eyes spreads across the man’s face. “I see we understand each other.”

You feel Logan’s hand tighten on your waist, his body tense with barely contained aggression. He’s playing the part, but you know how much he hates being in the company of people like this—people who would kill without remorse, all to maintain some sense of superiority.

“And what about you, Mrs. Daniels?” the older man continues, turning his attention to you. “Do you share your husband’s views?”

You meet his gaze with unwavering confidence, channeling all the poise you have. “Absolutely. There’s no place in this world for those who refuse to evolve. We believe in survival of the fittest.”

That seems to do the trick, the men in the circle nodding approvingly. “Well said, Mrs. Daniels. You two might just be exactly what we need.”

Another man in the group, stockier and with a thick, gray beard, leans in closer, his voice lowering conspiratorially. “And what do you think of the mutant problem?”

You exchange a brief glance with Logan, knowing that this is the moment of truth. If you say the wrong thing, it could blow your cover, but if you’re too vague, they might not trust you enough to share any details of their plans.

“I think they’ve had their time,” Logan says, false contempt bleeding from his words, “and it’s time someone put them in their place.”

The stocky man’s eyes light up with approval, his grin widening. “Exactly what we like to hear. You see, we’re not just talking about containment anymore.” He pauses, “We’re talking about eradication.”

Your stomach turns at the cold-blooded tone in his voice, but you keep your expression neutral.

“Eradication, you say?”

The silver-haired man nods. “A necessary step. Mutants are a threat to the natural order, and if we don’t act now, they’ll overrun us. But we have a plan—one that will send a message to the world.”

Logan’s jaw clenches, his fists itching to unsheathe his claws and tear through this evil group of people. But he forces himself to stay calm, “Sounds like you’ve got it all figured out,” he manages to get out through gritted teeth.

“We do,” the silver-haired man replies, his eyes gleaming with malice. “And with the right support, we can make it happen. Imagine a world free of mutants, where humanity can thrive without fear.”

You hum in feigned agreement. “Tell us more,” you prompt, leaning in as if genuinely interested. “How do you plan to pull this off?”

Glances are exchanged among the men, a clear sign of their satisfaction with the interest you seem to show.

“It’s quite simple, really,” the stocky man begins. “We’ve been gathering resources and allies from around the world. The most powerful minds, the wealthiest families—all united by a common goal.”

“And once we’ve secured enough support,” the silver-haired man continues, “we’ll make our move. We’ll target key mutant populations, taking them out in a way that will serve as a warning to others. Public displays, executions—whatever it takes to make them fear us.”

You keep your voice steady, despite the chill that runs down your spine, as you reply, “That’s… quite an undertaking.”

The men chuckle, mistaking your hesitation for awe. “It is. But it’s necessary. And with people like you on our side, we’ll be unstoppable.”

Logan smirks. “Count us in.”

The men smile, delighted with what they believe is newfound support. Logan hates every second of it—despises having to play along with these monsters. But he knows you both have to get more intel before you can make a move. The mission has to come first, even if it means playing nice with the enemy.

“Excuse us,” you say smoothly, grabbing Logan’s hand and glancing at him with a look that says it’s time to go. “We need to discuss a few things, but we’ll be in touch.”

The men nod, distracted by their own plotting as you and Logan step away, moving toward one of the less populated hallways. As soon as you’re out of earshot, Logan exhales, the tension in his shoulders easing just slightly.

“I need to tell Scott what we just heard,” you murmur quietly, “They’re planning something big, and we don’t have much time.”

Logan nods, his hand squeezing yours as you walk down the hallway. “I’ll keep watch. Make it quick.”

You find a secluded spot near a corner, pulling out the small communicator you’ve hidden in your purse. Quickly, you begin to relay the crucial information to Scott and Hank back at the X-Mansion, your voice hushed but urgent as you detail the plans you’ve overheard. Logan stands nearby, his senses on high alert, his gaze sweeping the hallway for any sign of trouble.

It’s too quiet.

The hair on the back of his neck stands up, instincts prickling with the sense that something is wrong. He turns to you, about to suggest wrapping things up when he hears it—a faint noise, like the subtle shifting of fabric, imperceptible to anyone without enhanced hearing.

Logan’s eyes dart toward the source of the sound, muscles tensing as he spots movement down the hall. “We’ve got company,” he mutters, just loud enough for you to hear.

You quickly finish your transmission, tucking the communicator back into its spot in your purse. “How many?”

“Too many,” Logan mutters, his claws itching to come out. “We need to move. Now.”

It’s too late. A group of security guards rounds the corner before either of you can make a break for it. Their eyes lock onto you with suspicion, and you can see the realization dawning in their expressions. Logan immediately steps in front of you, his body a solid wall of protection.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” one of the guards says, his hand resting on the weapon at his hip. “Who are you?”

Logan forces a grin, trying to buy some time. “Just lost our way. We were headin’ back to the ballroom.”

The guard’s eyes narrow, evidently not buying it. “I don’t think so. You two don’t seem to belong here.”

Another guard steps forward before Logan has time to respond, pulling out a device that emits a faint, ominous hum. The man waves it over you, and Logan’s heart sinks as the device beeps loudly, flashing red.

“Mutants,” the guard spits, his voice filled with disgust as he steps closer, his hand reaching out to grab you. “We’ve got ourselves some freaks here, boys.”

A wave of panic surges through you, but you shove it down, focusing on the cosmic energy you can feel crackling at your fingertips. Summoning all your strength, you swing a fist, aiming to land a powerful, energy-charged punch straight into the guard’s face.

But just as you make your move, another guard from your other side grabs your wrist mid-swing and your other arm, twisting them behind your back with brutal precision. The cosmic energy fizzles out instantly, your powers rendered useless by the anti-mutant handcuffs that snap around your wrists with a harsh click. The cold metal bites into your skin, and you feel immense fear crawl its way through your body as you realize how vulnerable you are without your powers, or the use of your arms.

“Nice try, sweetheart,” the guard sneers in your ear, his grip on your arm painfully tight as he shoves you forward. “But you’re not going anywhere.”

Logan’s eyes widen in fury as he sees the guard cuff you, his body trembling with the effort to keep his rage in check. “Let her go,” he snarls, his voice dangerously heavy.

The guard only grins, tightening his hold on you. “Or what, freak? You gonna bark? Gonna bite?”

Logan’s claws shoot out with a metallic shink, the sound echoing through the hallway. He takes a step forward, the feral side of him failing to suppress itself as he glares at the guards with deadly intent. “Last warning. Let. Her. Go.”

Instead of backing down, the guards react with eager viciousness. The one holding you shoves you hard against the wall, his leg sticking out to block your own, pinning you in place. Some others step forward, one landing a brutal punch to your stomach, the force of it knocking the wind out of you. The world tilts, and pain explodes in your ribs as another guard’s boot connects with your side.

Logan sees red.

Something primal surges within him, the instinct to protect you overwhelming every other thought. With a roar that shakes the walls, he launches himself at the guards, his claws slicing through the first one with a sickening crunch. Blood splatters across the floor as Logan tears through them with a ferocity that is terrifying to witness.

He moves like a whirlwind of rage, his claws ripping through flesh and bone with savage efficiency. The guards don’t stand a chance against him, but even as he fights, more of them swarm in, trying to overwhelm him with sheer numbers.

“Logan!” you cry out, the fear and pain you feel palpable as you struggle to get free. The guard holding you down slams your head against the wall, and stars burst behind your eyes as the world blurs.

Logan spins around, his eyes wild as he sees you slumped against the wall, blood trickling from your nose, eyes fighting to stay open. The sight of you being beaten, helpless and vulnerable, sends him into a frenzy. He slashes through another guard in his way, his claws dripping with blood as he tries to tear through their ranks.

However, his efforts are futile, the guards are relentless. Their numbers never dwindle, if anything, more and more seem to join the fight. They pile onto him, using their advantage, holding him down to the ground. Logan fights with everything he has, but even he has limits. He can feel the weight of them pressing down on him, can feel his strength waning as they force him to the ground.

“Logan!” you call his name again, breaking through the chaos. He can see you being dragged from the scene, your wrists bound, your eyes locked on his as they pull you farther and farther away.

“NO!” He roars, his voice breaking as he thrashes against the guards holding him down. He has to get to you—he has to save you.

Yet the more he fights, the more they press down, their combined weight and force overwhelming even his enhanced strength. They slam his head against the cold floor, pain exploding through his skull as his vision begins to fade. The last thing he sees before everything goes dark is your terrified face, the way your lips form his name, and the cold, cruel hands dragging you away into the shadows.

And then, nothing.

----

Logan wakes up to the sterile smell of antiseptic and the distant sound of beeping monitors. His head pounds, and every muscle in his body aches as if he’s been through a war—and in some ways, he has. Groaning, he tries to sit up, but a firm hand presses him back down.

“Easy, Logan,” comes Hank’s calm, reassuring voice. “You’ve been out for a while.”

Logan blinks, his vision slowly coming into focus. He’s in the med bay, the familiar white walls and harsh fluorescent lights greeting him. Once he finally comes to his senses, and he remembers the events that transpired the previous night, he realizes none of that matters. The only thing he cares about is you.

“Where is she?” he demands as he struggles against Hank’s hold.

Hank’s expression softens with pity and concern. “She’s… Logan, they took her. We’re doing everything we can to track her down, but—”

Panic jolts through Logan like a bolt of electricity, drowning out the rest of what Hank is saying. His eyes burn as he wrenches himself free from Hank’s grasp, his voice a gruff, dangerous snarl.

“How the hell did you get me out but leave her behind? You’re telling me you saved my sorry ass and couldn’t save her?”

Hank hesitates, his features morphing into a pained look, “It wasn’t like that. We were overwhelmed. There were too many of them, and you—”

“I don’t wanna hear excuses!” Logan cries, his words echoing off the walls as he slams a fist down on the bed. The metal frame groans under the force of his anger.

At that moment, Charles Xavier wheels in, his imposing presence immediately felt within the confines of the small room. He speaks calmly, trying to cut through the fog clouding Logan’s mind. “Logan, we did everything we could. It was hard enough getting just you. We had no choice but to retreat. If we hadn’t, we might have lost you both.”

Logan’s glare could’ve burned holes through steel as he turns to Charles, nostrils flaring.

“I don’t give a damn about me! She’s out there, alone, with those bastards, and I wasn’t there to stop it. I should’ve been able to protect her.”

His fists clench, his knuckles turning white as he struggles to contain the whirlwind of emotions tearing through him. Guilt eats him from the inside out. The thought of you suffering because he wasn’t there to protect you… “You–We…We left her behind,” he mutters, voice cracking.

Charles’s voice is firm but compassionate as he addresses the younger mutant. “You need to rest and regain your strength. When the time comes, you’ll be ready to get her back—but you can’t do that if you’re broken.”

Jaw tightening, Logan leans his body forward, holding his head in his hands. His temper is boiling, he wants to tear everything apart until there is nothing left, but he knows, deep down, that Charles is right. And as much as it kills him, he has to bide his time, to heal and prepare for what is to come.

But that doesn’t make it any easier.

“Hank, get out,” he growls, “Get out before I lose it.”

Hank exchanges a worried glance with Charles before reluctantly nodding. “We’ll find her, Logan. I promise.”

After Hank leaves the room, Logan sinks back onto the bed, his chest heaving with the effort to keep himself from exploding. His eyes bore into Charles’s, who remains, silently offering his support.

“When we find her,” he says, his voice low and full of promise, “there’s no holding back. I’m done waiting, done with all the excuses. She’s mine, and I’m not letting anything or anyone take her away from me again.”

----

The first thing you feel is the cold—icy, unforgiving, and seeping into your bones. Your head pounds, a dull, persistent ache that makes it hard to think, let alone move. When you try to lift your hands, you realize they are restrained, heavy iron chains biting into your wrists and pulling your arms taut above your head.

You jump to your senses, sharp and immediate, as you force your eyes open. The world is a blur at first, everything spinning and distorted. Then, as your vision clears, the reality of your situation hits you like a slap in the face.

You are in a cell. The walls are made of rough stone, the floor damp and filthy. There is barely any light, just a dim bulb hanging from the ceiling, flickering occasionally and casting long shadows that dance across the room. Your dress—the one you’d worn to the gala—is torn, the delicate fabric shredded and hanging off you in tatters. You can see your own blood between the patches that reveal your skin. You feel exposed, vulnerable, and a deep sense of dread settles in your stomach.

You try to pull against the chains, but your limbs are weak, your movements sluggish. They must have drugged you—this realization makes your heart race, fear clawing at your throat. You have no idea how long you’ve been out, no idea where you are or what they plan to do to you.

A sound from the other side of the cell catches your attention—laughter, low and mocking. You turn your head, the movement sending another wave of dizziness through your skull. Two guards stand just outside the bars, their faces twisted in cruel amusement.

“Look who’s finally awake,” one of them sneers with malice. “The mutant bitch.”

The words sting, but you refuse to show it. You force yourself to sit up straighter, meeting his gaze with as much defiance as you can muster. “Where am I?” you demand, your voice hoarse and shaky.

The guard laughs again, louder this time. “You’re in hell, sweetheart. And there’s no way out.”

His companion, a stockier man with a scar running down his cheek, steps forward, his eyes raking over you with a look that makes your skin crawl. “The boss is real interested in you, you know. He’s got plans,” he smiles, “Big plans.”

You swallow hard, fighting to keep your composure. “What do you want with me?”

“Oh, it ain’t about what we want,” the scarred guard replies, a disgusting grin spreading across his face. “It’s about what you can do. For us. You mutants think you’re so special, so powerful. But look at you now—all chained up and helpless.”

He reaches through the bars, grabbing a handful of your hair and yanking your head back. Pain shoots through your scalp, but you bite your lip, refusing to cry out. You won’t give them the satisfaction.

“Let go of me,” you hiss.

The guard’s grin widens as he leans closer, his breath hot and foul against your skin. “Make me, sweetheart. Oh, wait—you can’t.”

He laughs again, muttering to the other guard about how satisfying this is, and you feel a wave of nausea rise in your throat. You can feel the energy within you, your power that usually simmers just beneath the surface, always ready to be called upon. But now, it’s like a distant echo, muted and weak. The chains—they must be suppressing your abilities, keeping you from using your mutation.

“Your little tricks won’t work here,” the first guard taunts, his eyes gleaming with sadistic pleasure. “Those chains are special, made just for freaks like you. No powers, no escape.”

You are trapped, powerless, at the mercy of these men and whoever their leader is. You know you can’t let them see your fear. You can’t let them break you.

“I’ll get out of here,” you say, keeping your voice level despite the terror gnawing at your insides. “And when I do, you’ll regret this.”

The guards exchange a glance, then burst into laughter, the sound grating and harsh in the confined space.

“Big talk for someone who’s all chained up,” the scarred guard says, releasing his grip on your hair with a rough shove that sends you sprawling back against the wall.

“You’re not getting out,” the first guard adds, his tone more serious now. “No one’s coming for you. Your friends probably think you’re dead already. It’s been days.”

For a moment, your resolve falters. What if they are right? What if the team thinks you’re gone, or worse—what if they can’t find you? But then you think of Logan, of the fierce determination in his eyes, the way he’d fought for you before. No, they wouldn’t abandon you. He wouldn’t abandon you.

“They’ll find me,” you say, the conviction in your voice surprising even you.

The guards don’t laugh this time. The scarred one scowls, stepping back from the bars. “Keep dreaming, mutant. You’re ours now.”

With that, they turn and leave, their footsteps echoing down the corridor until they fade into silence. You are alone again, the cell’s walls pressing in from all sides. Yet despite the fear, despite the pain, you hold onto that sliver of hope, that image of Logan and the others coming to your rescue.

You aren’t going to give up. Not now, not ever.

Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath, forcing yourself to focus. The drugs are still in your system, making it hard to concentrate, but you won’t let that stop you. You start to tug at the chains again, testing their strength, trying to find any weakness, any way to break free.

It is agonizing, and with every movement, the metal digs deeper into your skin, drawing blood. But the pain keeps you focused, keeps you from slipping into despair. You have to keep going. You have to believe that Logan will come for you.

And when he does, you will be ready.

----

Weeks pass since that fateful night at the gala, weeks that feel like an eternity to Logan. Each day that you remain missing is another day of excruciating uncertainty, each hour that ticks by another reminder of his failure to protect you. The mansion, usually a place of camaraderie and purpose, has become a suffocating prison where he is forced to wait and hope—two things he has never been good at.

Charles Xavier is relentless in his search, utilizing every resource, every connection, and every ounce of his telepathic abilities to track down the organization that has taken you. The X-Men work tirelessly alongside him, scouring the globe for any trace, any whisper, that could lead them to you. Logan is a constant presence in the war room, his patience worn thin by the endless dead ends and false leads. He’s ready to go after them with nothing but his claws and a vendetta, but Charles insists on a plan, a strategy that won’t just rescue you but will dismantle the threat for good.

Finally, after weeks of frustration and relentless searching, they find something—a lead that could change everything.

Charles is in his study, surrounded by a tangle of maps, files, and reports, his mind stretched to its limits as he sifts through the chaotic swirl of information. Then, in the quiet hours of the night, he finds it—a faint, almost non-existent mental signature, hidden deep within the shadows of his mind. It’s the psychic equivalent of a whisper, a delicate thread that, when tugged, reveals a location: a remote island, far off the coast, where the organization has set up a secret base.

This base, as he quickly pieces together, is where they are holding you, along with other mutants they have captured. It’s heavily fortified, nearly impossible to reach by conventional means, and shielded against most telepathic detection. The mental signature he finds slips through only because it’s so faint, a brief lapse in their otherwise impenetrable defenses.

Charles spends days verifying the information, cross-referencing it with the intelligence they’ve gathered over the weeks. Every detail lines up—this is it. This is where they have taken you, and this is where they will launch their attack.

With the location confirmed, Charles knows he has to get the team together and act. Act fast.

----

Time loses all meaning in the cold, dark cell where you are held captive. The days and nights blur together, an endless cycle of hunger, pain, and hopelessness. The cold stone walls, once foreboding, have become your only companions, and the silence is a constant reminder of how alone you are.

Your dress is taken hours after you awake, replaced with a rough, beige prison uniform that itches against your skin. The fabric is thin, offering little protection against the freezing temperature. Your wrists and ankles ache from the tight cuffs they keep you in most of the time, the metal leaving angry red marks that never seem to fade.

They barely feed you—just enough to keep you alive, but never enough to give you any real strength. The meals are a cruel joke, infrequent and consisting of nothing more than stale bread and murky water that tastes like rust.

What makes it truly unbearable isn’t the food itself; it’s the way you are forced to consume it.

Chained to the wall, your arms shackled above your head, you can’t even feed yourself. Every day, like clockwork, one of the guards enters your cell, a twisted smirk on his face as he carries a small, dented tray of food. He kneels beside you, holding the bread just out of reach, as if daring you to try and grab it.

“Hungry?” he taunts, waving the bread in front of your face. “You look like you could use a bite.”

You glare at him, your stomach growling with hunger, but you refuse to beg. You refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing how desperate you are. In the end, your body’s needs always win out, and you reluctantly part your lips, letting him shove the stale, crumbling bread into your mouth.

The guard never makes it easy. He pushes the bread in too far, making you gag, or holds it just out of reach, forcing you to strain against your chains, the metal digging painfully into your wrists. When it comes time for the water, he tilts the cup too quickly, spilling most of it down your chin, leaving you with just a few precious drops to quench your thirst.

“Pathetic,” he mutters, wiping the spilled water off your face with the back of his hand in a mockery of kindness. “Can’t even eat without help.”

You swallow the bread, the dry crumbs scraping down your throat, doing your best to keep from choking. The water that follows is barely enough to wash it down, leaving your mouth dry and your hunger only partially sated.

It’s a humiliating, degrading experience, one that leaves you feeling even more powerless than the chains ever could. And that’s exactly what the guards want. Each meal is an exercise in control, a reminder that you are at their mercy, that they hold all the power.

Somehow, that still isn’t the worst of it all.

Guards come daily, sometimes in pairs, sometimes alone, always with that same twisted grin on their faces. You have learned to anticipate their visits, to prepare yourself for the taunts, the jeers, and the beatings that inevitably follow. They seem to take pleasure in your suffering, their laughter echoing off the walls as they deliver blow after blow, leaving you gasping for breath on the cold, hard floor.

Every time they come, they mock you, their voices dripping with contempt. “Where are your precious X-Men now, huh? Guess they forgot about you. Must be nice knowing no one cares enough to come get you.”

You bite your lip, refusing to give them the satisfaction of seeing you break. But inside, the doubt begins to creep in. How long has it been? Weeks, maybe more? Surely they would have found you by now. Surely Logan is out there, tearing the world apart to find you. But as the days drag on and the beatings continue, it becomes harder to hold onto that hope.

One day, after an especially brutal session where they leave you bruised and bleeding on the floor, you find yourself laughing—a bitter, hollow sound that startles even you.

“What’s so funny?” one of the guards sneers, looking down at you with a scowl.

You lift your head, your gaze locking onto his, something defiant sparking in your eyes despite the pain. “Do you guys get off on seeing people in pain? Is this a fetish or something?”

The guard’s expression darkens with disdain, and he steps forward, delivering a swift kick to your side that makes you gasp, the air rushing out of your lungs. “Shut up!” he barks.

You cough, tasting blood on your lips, but you can’t stop the words that tumble out. “Is that all you’ve got?” you rasp, pushing yourself up onto your elbows despite the throbbing in your ribs. “I’m starting to think you’re not very good at this.”

The guard’s face twists into a snarl, and he raises his hand to strike you again, but the other guard grabs his arm, pulling him back. “Enough,” the second guard says, though his voice is more cautious now. “We’re not supposed to kill her. Not yet.”

They leave you there, crumpled on the floor, your body aching. As much as it hurts, as much as the beatings wear you down, you cling to that small act of defiance. They haven’t broken you. Not yet.

----

The tension in the war room is suffocating, the air thick with urgency and dread. The X-Men gather around the long, sleek table, the holographic map of the enemy compound glowing in the center, casting an eerie blue light across their faces. Scott stands at the head of the table, his expression stern as he outlines possible infiltration points, while Jean, Ororo, and Hank listen intently.

Logan sits at the far end, his posture rigid, every muscle in his body coiled tight like a spring ready to snap. He doesn’t want to be here—doesn’t want to waste time with plans and strategies when all he can think about is you. But he knows that going off on his own, especially in his current state, would only end in disaster. So he forces himself to stay, to listen, even though every second feels like a waste.

His hands clench into fists on the table, his knuckles turning white. He can barely focus on Scott’s words, his mind consumed with images of you—frightened, abandoned, injured. The thought makes his blood boil, his claws itching to extend and tear through anything in his path.

“Logan,” Jean’s voice cuts through his thoughts. “Are you with us?”

He glances up, meeting her concerned gaze. He knows she can feel his turmoil, his barely restrained anger, and that only makes him more frustrated.

“I’m here, aren’t I?” he snaps.

Ororo shoots him a warning look. “We need to stay focused, Logan. Losing your temper won’t help her.”

Logan grits his teeth, biting back the retort that rises to his lips. He knows she’s right, but that doesn’t make it any easier to control the storm of emotions raging inside him. “Just tell me when we’re movin’,” he growls, his tone laced with impatience. “I’m not sittin’ around any longer while they’ve got her.”

“We all want to find her, Logan,” Scott says, “But we have to do this right. If we go in guns blazing, we could get her killed.”

“And if we wait too long, she’ll be dead anyway.”

“Logan,” Hank interjects, trying to be the voice of reason. “Scott’s right. We have to be smart about this. We’re dealing with people who have resources, power, and a deep-seated hatred for mutants. They’ll be expecting us.”

Jean’s voice cuts through his thoughts again, this time in his mind, her telepathy reaching out to him. Logan, I know how much she means to you. We’re doing everything we can to bring her back. Trust us.

He shoots her a glare, not appreciating the intrusion, but he doesn’t push her away. Jean has always been the one who could reach him, even when he’s at his most stubborn. I’m not lettin’ them keep her from me any longer, Jean, he thinks back, his mental voice raw with emotion.

You won’t, Jean replies, her mental tone firm but soothing. We won’t let that happen. But you need to stay with us, Logan. We’re stronger together.

“What’s the plan?” he asks, breaking his stupor.

Charles exchanges a glance with Scott, who nods and steps forward to explain. “We’ll approach under the cover of night. Ororo will create a storm to mask our presence, and we’ll use the Blackbird to drop in undetected. Jean and I will handle disabling their telepathic defenses so we can get a read on the situation inside. Hank will take out their communications to prevent them from calling for reinforcements.”

“And me?” Logan growls, his eyes locked on the island’s location.

“You’ll be leading the assault,” Scott replies without hesitation. He can sense the violent need rattling within Logan’s bones—craving to avenge you. “Once we’ve neutralized the outer defenses, you and I will go in together. Our primary objective is to get her out—everything else is secondary. We can always go back to finish the job."

Logan’s fists clench at his sides, his claws itching to be released.

“When do we leave?”

“Tonight,” Charles answers from where he sits at the table. “We’ve waited long enough.”

Logan remains by the map while the team disperses and begins to prepare, his eyes fixed on the small island in the middle of the vast ocean. This is it. After weeks of waiting, weeks of imagining the worst, he finally has a chance to make things right.

He can almost feel the cold metal of the anti-mutant handcuffs around your wrists, the bruises on your skin from the guards’ brutality. The thought makes him see red, but beneath the rage is something even more powerful—a fierce determination to see you safe, to get you out of there and back where you belong.

Logan will lead the charge, and God help anyone who stands in his way.

As the team assembles, suited up and ready for the mission, Charles wheels over to Logan, placing a hand on his arm. “We’ll bring her home, Logan. And we’ll make sure this never happens again.”

He nods, the fire in his eyes burning brighter than ever. “We will,” he says, a dangerous growl clawing its way out of his throat, “And when I get my hands on them, they’ll wish they’d never laid a finger on her.”

With that, the team boards the Blackbird, the weight of the mission pressing down on them as they soar into the night. The storm Ororo has summoned rages around them, the skies dark and foreboding, as they approach the island. Every second brings them closer to the moment of reckoning, and Logan’s focus sharpens to a razor’s edge.

“I’m comin’ for ya, darlin’,” he murmurs under his breath, the words a promise to himself as much as to you. “Just hold on.”

----

“Approaching the drop zone,” Ororo’s calm voice comes over the comms, though the storm she controls outside is anything but calm. Lightning splits the sky, momentarily illuminating the jagged cliffs of the remote island below, their destination hidden within the darkness.

Scott cuts through the tension. “Alright, everyone. Remember the plan. Jean, Ororo, and I will handle the outer defenses. Hank, take out their communications. Logan and I will lead the assault inside. Our primary objective is to find her and get her out.”

Logan barely nods, his eyes locked on the ramp as it begins to lower. The cold wind whips through the interior of the Blackbird, carrying with it the scent of the sea and the earth below. And underneath it all, Logan can smell them—guards, weapons, blood.

“Ready?” Scott asks, glancing at Logan.

His response is a rough, feral growl. “Let’s do this.”

With a sharp nod, Scott activates the drop sequence, and Logan is the first out, dropping into the storm with the grace of a true predator. He lands in a crouch, claws out, eyes scanning the perimeter. The island is as fortified as they feared, with high walls, watchtowers, and heavily armed guards patrolling the grounds.

But none of that matters. He has one focus, one goal: finding you.

The rest of the team lands behind him, moving quickly, quietly, and efficiently. Ororo raises her hands to the sky, intensifying the storm, the wind and rain becoming a blinding force that conceals their approach. Lightning arcs overhead, briefly turning night into day, revealing the outlines of guards scrambling to respond to the sudden onslaught.

Scott gives the signal to move in, and the team splits up, each member heading to their designated targets. Jean and Ororo focus on the outer defenses, disorienting the guards with telepathic illusions and powerful gusts of wind. Hank slips into the shadows, his agile form disappearing into the underbrush as he makes his way to the communications hub.

The Wolverine moves like a shadow, traversing the rain-soaked night with deadly silence. He can feel the adrenaline pumping through his veins, every sense heightened as he approaches the main compound. The guards are on high alert, but they are no match for the X-Men. He watches as Jean’s telepathy turns their own weapons against them, as Scott’s optic blasts tear through their defenses.

But as the team advances, the guards regroup, their numbers swelling as they pour out of the compound. They aren’t going down without a fight. Logan spots a heavily armed squad taking position near a turret, their weapons trained on the team. They open fire, a barrage of bullets slicing through the air.

“Jean!” Scott shouts.

Jean extends her hands, a telekinetic shield flaring to life just in time to deflect the incoming fire. The bullets bounce off harmlessly, but the force of the attack makes it clear this isn’t going to be easy. The guards are better prepared than expected, their movements coordinated, their strategy clear: delay the X-Men as long as possible.

Logan growls in frustration, his claws itching to tear through the enemy lines. “We need to move, now!” he snarls, his voice barely audible over the storm.

Ororo nods, her eyes glowing white as she summons a powerful gust of wind, sending the guards sprawling. Scott seizes the moment, firing a series of blasts that take out the turret and send the remaining guards scattering. Still, even as they advance, more guards appear, swarming from every direction.

Hank emerges from the shadows, his blue fur slick with rain as he tackles a group of guards attempting to flank the team. He moves with agility and precision, disarming them with brutal efficiency before disappearing into the darkness once more.

Logan pushes forward, his senses locked on the main compound. Every muscle in his body is taut, ready to react, as he closes in on the entrance. But the resistance only grows fiercer the closer they get. A squad of heavily armored guards appears, their rifles spitting fire as they advance in formation.

“Ororo, cover us!”

Ororo unleashes a torrent of lightning, the bolts crackling through the air and striking the guards with dead-set accuracy. It’s almost like a scene from the gala, the guards coming in endless waves, their numbers never faltering.

Logan’s patience snaps. He shoots forward, his claws slicing through the rain, his cry echoing across the battlefield. He crashes into the line of guards, tearing through their armor as if it were paper. Blood splatters the ground, the metallic scent mixing with the rain as Logan carves a path through the enemy.

Scott and Jean are right behind him, their combined powers devastating the remaining guards. But the compound is heavily fortified, and as Logan bursts through the first door, a new wave of guards meets them head-on.

These are the elite, the best of the best, and they fight with a cold, calculated precision that makes them more dangerous than the others. Jean’s telepathy is their saving grace. She reaches into the minds of the guards, sowing confusion and fear, turning their own thoughts against them. But the strain is visible on her face, the effort of controlling so many minds at once taking its toll.

“Jean, hold on!” Scott calls.

“I’m… trying,” Jean gasps, her voice strained.

Logan knows they can’t keep this up. They have to find you, and they have to do it fast. He slams his claws into another door, splintering it into pieces, only to be met with a hail of gunfire from the guards inside. He ducks, rolling to the side as Scott’s optic blasts provide cover, the two of them working in tandem to clear the room.

“Move!” Scott shouts, and Logan surges forward, his claws tearing through the last of the guards in the corridor.

The air is thick with the smell of blood and gunpowder, but Logan doesn’t care. He can hear it—the faint sound of muffled cries, the rattling of chains. His heart pounds in his chest as he moves forward, faster now, driven by the desperate need to reach you.

Then he sees it: two hulking mercenaries guarding a heavy steel door. They are well-armed, and this time, their eyes hold no uncertainty. These are the final line of defense, the ones meant to stop anyone from getting to you.

They open fire, the bullets ricocheting off the walls, but Logan is too fast, too eager to be reunited with you. He ducks and weaves, his claws gleaming as he closes the distance. With a guttural roar, he leaps at them, his claws slashing through flesh and bone with a sickening crunch. The guards crumple to the ground, lifeless, as Logan stands over them, his chest heaving with exertion.

Without wasting a second, Logan slams his claws into the door, the metal screeching as it gives way under the force of his rage. He rips the door off its hinges, tossing it aside as if it weighs nothing. Inside, the air is heavy with the smell of damp stone and fear. And there, in the dim light of the small cell, he sees you—chained, battered, but alive.

You are slumped against the far wall of a small, dank cell, your wrists bound with the anti-mutant handcuffs, your body bruised and battered. The sight of you, so broken and vulnerable, makes Logan’s heart twist with desperation and longing. All of his fury immediately floods out of his system. He crosses the room in two strides, his claws retracting as he kneels beside you, his hands trembling as he reaches out to touch your face.

“Hey, darlin’,” he whispers, “I’m here. I’ve got you.”

You stir at the sound of his voice, your eyes fluttering open as you try to focus. When you see him, a weak smile tugs at the corners of your lips. “Logan…”

“Shh,” he soothes, his fingers gently brushing a strand of hair from your face. “You’re gonna be okay. I’m gettin’ you outta here.”

He quickly reaches for the handcuffs, his claws slicing through the metal with ease. The moment they fall away, you feel a sudden surge of power within you, like a dam breaking, your abilities rushing back after being suppressed for so long. You slump forward into his arms, too weak to hold yourself up. Logan’s heart breaks at the feel of your frail body against his, but he holds you close, his arms wrapping around you protectively.

“Can you walk?”

You nod, though it’s clear the effort costs you. “I… I think so.”

Logan helps you to your feet, his arm supporting you as you lean heavily against him. Every step is a struggle, but he’s right there with you. Making your way out of the cell, the sounds of battle grow louder, the chaos of the X-Men’s assault reaching its peak.

“We gotta move fast,” Logan mutters tensely, “But I’m not lettin’ go of you. We’re gettin’ outta here together.”

He keeps a firm grip on you, his entire focus on getting you out of this hellhole. The whole island around you is in shambles, the walls of your prison shaking with the force of explosions and the sharp crack of energy blasts. The X-Men are relentless, cutting down the remaining guards with the efficiency of a well-oiled machine. Scott and Hank’s voices echo through the comms, issuing orders and coordinating the team’s movements.

Everything fades into the background—the sounds of battle, the flashes of light, the scent of blood and smoke.

All Logan can concentrate on is the fragile feel of your hand in his, your fingers moving shakily against his rough skin, your breaths coming in short, ragged gasps as you struggle to keep going.

“Stay with me, darlin’,” he rasps, urging you, “We’re almost out. Just hold on a little longer.”

Your fingers tighten around his, as if letting go would mean losing him again. The two of you move as one, your bodies pressed together as you navigate through the debris and destruction. The storm outside mirrors the one within him, but as long as you’re with him, he knows he can weather it.

When the exit finally comes into view, the cold night air hits you both, a stark contrast to the oppressive heat of the compound. The Blackbird is waiting, its ramp lowered, and the sight of it brings a surge of relief so powerful it nearly buckles your knees. But Logan is there, his arm wrapped securely around you, practically carrying you up the ramp.

Finally in the jet, the familiar hum of the engines fills the cabin, a soothing backdrop to the storm raging outside. Neither of you cares about the storm or the battle left behind. The only thing that matters is that you’re together.

Logan guides you to a seat, but instead of sitting beside you, he pulls you into his lap, holding you as close as he can. You don’t resist, your arms wrapping around his neck, clinging to him as if he were the only thing keeping you grounded. In many ways, he is.

Hank approaches, concern etched across his face, but Logan barely glances at him. His focus is entirely on you, his hand brushing your hair back from your face, his thumb gently wiping away the tears that have begun to fall—not from pain, but from the overwhelming relief of being safe, of being with him.

“You’re safe now,” he murmurs, his lips pressing soft, reassuring kisses into your hair. “I’ve got you. I’m not lettin’ you go.”

You bury your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling the familiar scent of him, your tears soaking into his shirt as you cling to him. Each touch, every whispered word, acts like a balm to the wounds you have endured. You can feel the tension in his muscles, the way his heart pounds against your chest.

“I knew you’d come… but you guys took a lot longer than I was expecting,” you whisper, trying to bring a hint of your usual humor into your voice, “made me look a little stupid in front of those guards.”

Logan’s arms tighten around you. “I’m here, sweets. I’m right here. And I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

He continues to kiss your hair, his rough, calloused hands gently cradling your face as he wipes away your tears. Neither of you wants to let go, the fear of losing each other again too fresh, too real.

Logan’s lips brush against your temple, a tender, lingering kiss that conveys more than words ever could. “I’ve got you,” he repeats, over and over again. “Nothin’s gonna happen to you again.”

You nod, unable to speak, but your grip on him tightens, your heart finally beginning to calm as you rest in his arms. For the first time since your capture, you feel safe. Truly safe. And it’s all because of him.

----

Returning to the mansion after the rescue is a blur of activity, concern, and overwhelming relief. The moment you touch down, you’re rushed to the med bay, surrounded by familiar faces, each one filled with a mixture of worry and hope.

The sterile white walls of the med bay feel oddly comforting now, compared to the cold, damp cell you were held in. You’re laid gently on a bed, Hank and Jean immediately setting to work, checking your vitals, assessing your injuries. Their voices are calm and reassuring, but you barely hear them. Your mind is still reeling, your body still trembling from the whole ordeal.

Logan never leaves your side. Even as Hank and Jean move around you, speaking in low tones about your condition, he’s there, a grounding force. He holds your hand through it all, his thumb tracing slow, soothing circles on your skin. Whenever your eyes flutter open, his are there, locked on yours, filled with a fierce protectiveness that makes your heart ache.

Hank and Jean make sure you’re well-fed, insisting on regular meals to help you regain your strength. Plates of warm, nourishing food are brought to you, and though you have little appetite at first, Logan’s gentle encouragement coaxes you to eat. He sits with you, holding your hand while you slowly nibble at the food, his deep voice murmuring soft words of reassurance and comfort.

“Just a little more, darlin’,” he says, his tone comforting. “You need to get your strength back.”

You nod, taking another bite, the warmth of the food spreading through you, bringing with it a sense of safety and normalcy that you hadn’t felt in what seems like forever.

Nights are the hardest. The darkness brings with it the memories of the cell, the guards, the pain, and the fear. You often wake in a panic, your heart racing, the shadows of the past closing in around you. But every time, Logan is there, pulling you into his arms, whispering reassurances until the terror subsides.

Logan, for his part, is dealing with his own demons. You can see it in the way his jaw tightens when he thinks you aren’t looking, the way his eyes darken when he hears you gasp in pain or when your hand trembles as you reach for something. He’s haunted by what happened, by the fact that he hadn’t been able to protect you from the start. You know he’s carrying a heavy burden of guilt, and it tears at your heart to see him so troubled.

He tries to hide it, of course—tries to be strong for you. However, in the quiet moments, when the mansion is still and the only sound is the soft beep of the heart monitor, he lets his guard down. He sits beside you, his head bowed, his hand holding yours as if afraid you might slip away if he lets go. And in those moments, you can see the depth of his pain, the way it eats at him from the inside.

On one occasion, after a particularly vivid nightmare leaves you shaky and breathless, Logan pulls you into his lap, holding you close as he murmurs words of comfort. As you cry, he holds you tighter, his voice breaking as he whispers, “I’m sorry. I’m so damn sorry.”

You pull back just enough to look up at him, your heart breaking at the sight of the tears in his eyes. “Logan, it wasn’t your fault,” you say, as many times as you need to, if it means he’ll stop feeling this way. “You saved me. You found me.”

He shakes his head, his grip on you tightening as if trying to anchor himself. “I should have been there sooner. I should have—”

“No,” you interrupt, your hand coming up to cup his cheek, forcing him to meet your gaze. “You did everything you could. You saved me. You brought me home.”

His eyes close at your words, a single tear slipping down his cheek. “I can’t lose you. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.”

“You won’t,” you promise, and you mean it.

----

When you’re finally discharged from the med bay, it feels like a victory—a hard-won battle that leaves you both relieved and eager to reclaim your life. Your strength has returned, slowly but surely, and now, after weeks of healing and recovery, you’re ready to start training again. The thought of moving your body, of pushing your limits, fills you with a renewed sense of purpose.

But there’s one thing you hadn’t counted on—Logan.

Ever since the rescue, he’s been by your side, a constant, unyielding presence. At first, you appreciated it—you truly did—his steady support, his silent vigilance, the way he seemed to always know when you needed a comforting word or a strong arm to lean on. Yet now, as you step back into the training room, ready to test your limits again, his presence is starting to feel more like a shadow you can’t shake.

“Logan,” you say, trying to keep the frustration out of your voice as you stretch, your muscles still tight from the weeks of inactivity. “You don’t have to watch me like a hawk. I’m fine. Really.”

He doesn’t respond right away, his arms crossed over his chest as he leans against the wall, his sharp eyes never leaving you. The intensity of his gaze is almost suffocating.

“I know. You’re strong,” he finally says, “But that doesn’t mean I’m just gonna stand by and let you push yourself too hard.”

You sigh, rolling your shoulders as you turn to face him fully. “I’m not made of glass. I need to do this. I need to get back to where I was. The fight isn't finished.”

He pushes off the wall, his expression hardening as he takes a step closer to you. “And I’m not sayin’ you can’t. I just… I don’t want you to go through this alone.”

Something in his voice makes you pause, the frustration fading away as you look at him more closely. There’s a tension in his posture, tension that hadn’t been there before, and the way he’s looking at you—it isn’t just concern. It’s something deeper.

“I’m not alone,” you assure him. “I’ve got the whole team behind me. I’ve got you.”

He holds your gaze for a long moment, letting the moment pass between you, and then he exhales deeply, as if bracing himself for what he’s about to say. “You know, when you were gone… I told Charles I wouldn’t hold back anymore.”

His words catch you off guard, and your brow furrows in confusion. “Hold back?”

Logan takes another step closer, his eyes searching yours as if trying to find the right way to explain.

“I told him that if we found you, if we got you back safe… I wasn’t gonna keep my feelings locked up anymore. I’ve been doin’ it for too long, and when I almost lost you… it made me realize I can’t keep pretending I don’t care as much as I do.”

You know what he’s trying to say. The charged energy between you, all the banter—it was never just friendly. It was more than that—something neither of you had ever acknowledged out loud, but it was there. You’d never been just teammates, and deep down, you both understood that.

He reaches out, taking your hand in his, his grip firm but gentle. “I’m in love with you,” he confesses, his voice deep and hoarse, filled with all the emotion he’s kept bottled up for so long. “I’ve been in love with you for a long time, but I was too damn stubborn to admit it. But after what happened, after goin' through all that…”

He lets his voice trail off. Your heart pounds in your chest, the truth of his words resonating deep within you. You’ve always sensed the undercurrent of something more between you two, something that made every shared glance, every sarcastic quip, feel like a promise unfulfilled. Hearing Logan finally admit it, finally put words to what had always been there, makes your breath catch, your mind soar with joy.

“I know,” you confess back, “I think I’ve always known. But I was afraid to push, afraid to break whatever it was we had. I’ve felt it too. I always have.”

Logan’s eyes widen slightly at your confession, relief flooding his features, the hard lines of tension softening as if a great burden has been lifted from his shoulders. For a long, heart-stopping moment, the two of you just stare at each other.

Then, as if pulled together by the same magnetic force, you and Logan surge forward simultaneously. The distance between you vanishes in an instant, and your lips meet in a fierce, passionate kiss that speaks of all the pent-up passion and unspoken words you’d both kept buried for so long.

His hands roam your body with an urgency that borders on desperation, as if he’s making sure this is real—that you’re truly there, in front of him, kissing him. His fingers trace the curve of your back, the line of your shoulders, and then tighten their grip as he pulls you even closer, his touch firm and possessive. Your arms wrap around his neck, holding onto him with just as much need.

The kiss is everything—relief, passion, love—all rolled into one overwhelming, breathtaking moment that makes your head spin and your knees weak.

When you finally break apart, gasping for breath, Logan doesn’t move away. His forehead rests against yours, but the distance between you seems to close even further, if that were possible. His hands grip you tightly, as if you’re the only thing anchoring him to reality. He’s consumed by you, by the feel of your body against his, by the taste of your lips, by the sheer relief that you’re here, safe, and his. His breath is ragged, his heart pounding, and when he opens his eyes, they’re filled with a raw, burning intensity that sends a shiver down your spine.

“God, I don’t want to let you go,” he whispers.

His hands roam your back again, as if reassuring himself that you’re really there, that you’re not some illusion that will slip away the moment he loosens his grip.

You smile softly, though your heart is still racing from the intensity of the moment. “I don’t want you to let go either,” you whisper back. “But… I still need to be independent. I need to be able to stand on my own two feet.”

His gaze tightens a bit, and you can see that he’s torn between the overwhelming urge to protect you and the understanding that you’re right. His eyes search your face, as if trying to reconcile his deep-seated fear with the reality of who you are.

“I just… I don’t know how to give you space,” he admits, “Not after everything that’s happened.”

You smile gently, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips. “You don’t have to step away,” you reassure him. “But you do have to let me stand beside you, not behind you. We’re in this together,” you kiss him again, “They’re still out there. The mission isn’t over.”

Logan’s hands tighten on your waist for a moment, as if his instincts are against the idea of giving you any distance at all, against the idea of you throwing yourself back into the fight. But then, after a long pause, he slowly, reluctantly nods. “I’ll do my best,” he murmurs. “I can’t promise I won’t want to keep you close… but I’ll try to give you the space you need.”

Your heart warms at his words, recognizing the struggle he’s willing to endure for your sake. “That’s all I’m asking for,” you reply, your voice tender as you lean in for another kiss.

[END OF PART ONE]

-----

A/N: Phew! Part one done, and part two is on the way -- it'll be up by the end of the weekend. Please comment or send me a message if you'd like to be tagged in the next part. Hope you liked the story!

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vanteguccir · 3 months ago

Text

── ୨୧ !　𝗘𝗚𝗚𝗦 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗣𝗥𝗘𝗚𝗡𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗬

　　　　　　　　　𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: Where Matt uses his loss on the egg challenge as an excuse to reveal Y/N's pregnancy to his brothers.

WARNING: Pregnancy, crying.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by anon.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

A/N²: I've decided to post it today since it's Father's Day on Brazil! Unfortunately, I had to write it in a rush, so I'm sorry if it's not that good ;(

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Matt, Nick, and Chris had spent the morning engaged in their latest YouTube challenge; a seemingly simple task of caring for an egg as if it were their own child. What had started as a lighthearted competition quickly turned into something more meaningful, though none of them knew it yet.

Nick leaned back in his chair, his arms folded behind his head, exuding confidence as he glanced at the table. His egg sat intact in front of him, a proud reminder of his victory. He smirked at Matt, who sat across from him, his egg conspicuously absent, the pieces of it having already been swept into the trash.

"Well, Matt, it looks like you lost." Nick teased, his voice dripping with mock sympathy. His grin widened, knowing exactly how to get under his brother's skin.

Chris, sitting at the other end of the table, tried to suppress his laughter but failed, the sound escaping as a snort. He leaned forward, resting his chin in his hand, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

"Seriously, dude, how did you even have the courage to throw your egg after knowing that it was already cracked?"

But instead of a witty comeback or a defensive retort, Matt remained silent. His usually quick tongue was stilled, and his shoulders slumped slightly as he stared at the table in front of him. His brothers’ laughter echoed around the kitchen, but Matt seemed miles away.

From her spot by the kitchen counter, Y/N observed the scene unfold, her smile soft and her eyes filled with affection as she watched the brothers banter. She had always loved these moments, the way they could turn the simplest tasks into something fun and full of life. But today, something was different. Matt wasn’t joining in the laughter, and the silence coming from him made her heart tighten with concern.

Matt’s eyes met Y/N’s across the room, and for a brief moment, everything else faded away. Her smile faltered, replaced by a look of curiosity and worry as she noticed the unspoken emotion in his gaze. It wasn’t defeat or frustration over the challenge; it was something deeper, something that made her heart skip a beat. What was he thinking? What was he hiding?

Nick’s voice cut through the tension, snapping Matt out of his thoughts.

"Come on, Matt, admit it. You’re just not cut out for fatherhood." Nick joked, his tone light but teasing.

Chris chimed in, leaning back in his chair with a playful grin.

"Yeah, maybe it’s a good thing you’re not a dad yet."

The words, meant in jest, struck Matt like a physical blow. He inhaled sharply, his gaze flickering to Y/N once more, and this time, her eyes widened in realization. Her hand instinctively moved to her stomach, a small, unconscious gesture that Matt had seen her do countless times since they discovered the news. It was a habit she had developed; whenever she felt nervous, excited, or overwhelmed, her hand would rest there, a protective touch that spoke of the new life growing inside her.

Matt took a deep breath, turning his gaze back to his brothers.

"My egg 'broke,' so technically, I lost-" Matt began, his voice quiet, almost detached as he tried to find the right words.

Nick interrupted him, raising an eyebrow in confusion as he imitated Matt’s air quotes.

"'Broke'? Motherfucker, it broke." His voice was full of bewilderment, unsure of why Matt was choosing to word it that way.

But Matt wasn’t paying attention to Nick’s teasing anymore. He pushed back his chair and stood up, the scraping of the legs against the floor breaking the comfortable rhythm of the morning. All eyes were on him as he walked over to the counter, where Y/N stood, her breath caught in her throat as she looked up at him. He leaned against the counter, positioning himself next to her, his hand brushing against hers in a silent exchange of comfort and support.

Nick and Chris exchanged puzzled glances, the playful atmosphere from moments ago now replaced with a sense of anticipation. Matt was rarely this serious, especially during their videos, and the change in his demeanor left them both on edge.

"What’s going on, Matt?" Chris asked, his voice steady but laced with curiosity, his arms crossing over his chest as he studied his brother.

Matt took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on him. He and Y/N had talked about how to break the news to Nick and Chris for days. They had planned it out, imagined different scenarios, and rehearsed how it might go. But now, standing here in the kitchen with the camera still rolling, Matt realized that all those plans didn’t matter. There was no perfect way to tell them; there was only the truth.

"I didn’t lose." Matt said, his voice stronger now, filled with emotion that he could no longer hide. He took a step closer to Y/N, his hand finding hers and squeezing it gently. His eyes never left his brothers as he spoke. "My baby is safe and sound... right in the oven."

The words hung in the air for a moment, the meaning not immediately sinking in for Nick and Chris. They blinked, their expressions mirroring each other’s confusion as they tried to make sense of what Matt had just said.

"The oven?" Nick repeated, glancing around the kitchen. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

Chris frowned, his gaze following Nick’s to the actual oven, which was clearly off.

"Matt, what are you-"

But before Chris could finish, Matt shook his head and smiled softly, a smile that held all the love and anticipation he had been carrying for weeks. He gently guided Y/N’s hand to her stomach, the gesture so tender and full of meaning that it spoke louder than any words ever could.

"The oven," Matt repeated, his voice a whisper now, thick with emotion. "Right here."

It was as if time stopped. Nick and Chris froze, their eyes widening in sync as the realization finally hit them. The weight of Matt’s words, the significance of the gesture; it all came crashing down on them at once.

"Wait... are you saying...?" Nick’s voice trailed off, the disbelief evident in every syllable.

Y/N looked up at Matt, her eyes shining with tears that she had been holding back for days. She nodded, her voice trembling with joy and nerves as she finally let the words out, the truth she had been dying to share.

"We’re pregnant." She whispered, her voice breaking with emotion. "I’m pregnant."

For a heartbeat, the kitchen was silent. The camera continued to record, capturing every second of the moment that would change their lives forever.

And then, all at once, the emotions erupted.

Chris was the first to react. His eyes filled with tears that spilled over the rims, his face a mix of shock, joy, and overwhelming love. He stood up so abruptly that his chair almost fell, forgotten as he crossed the room in two long strides. Without a word, he pulled Matt and Y/N into a tight embrace, his arms encircling them both as he buried his face in Matt’s shoulder, his body trembling with sobs.

"Oh my God." Chris whispered, his voice cracking with the force of his emotions. "I can’t believe it. You’re going to be a dad, Matt. And Y/N... you’re going to be a mom."

Y/N found herself laughing through her own tears, the sound mixing with her soft sobs as she wrapped her arms around Chris, resting her head against his. She could feel Matt’s warm hand on her back, holding her close, grounding her in the moment.

"We were going to tell you guys differently, but..." Y/N’s voice faltered, the words catching in her throat as she tried to speak. Her lip quivered as she bit down on it, trying to hold back the fresh wave of tears that threatened to spill over.

Nick, who had been frozen in shock, finally seemed to snap out of it. He looked at Matt, then at Y/N, and back to Matt again, as if needing to confirm that this was real. His eyes were wide, his jaw slack, but then, slowly, a wide, joyous grin spread across his face.

"Holy shit!" Nick exclaimed, his voice full of excitement as he jumped up from his chair, his movements so sudden that it clattered to the floor. He didn’t care. All he could focus on was the fact that his brother was going to be a father. That they were going to be uncles.

Nick rushed over to join the group hug, wrapping his arms around the three of them and squeezing as hard as he could, his voice cracking with the intensity of his emotions.

"This is insane! I can’t believe we’re going to be uncles. Oh my God, Chris, we’re going to be uncles!"

Chris pulled back just enough to look at Nick, their faces mirroring the same shock and joy.

"Yes, you are." Y/N whispered, her voice filled with warmth and love. "You and Chris are going to be the best uncles in the world."

Matt couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. He let them fall freely as he wrapped his arms around his brothers, holding them tight, feeling a surge of love and gratitude that left him breathless. This wasn’t the way they had planned it, but it felt right. It felt perfect. He could feel Chris’s shoulders shaking as he cried, and when he finally pulled back to look at his brothers, he saw the same tears in Nick’s eyes.

Chris wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, a huge, teary grin spreading across his face.

"You sneaky bastards." He said, his voice still thick with his crying. "You kept this from us!"

"We wanted to surprise you." Matt said, finally finding her voice again, though it was still shaky with laughter and tears. "But I just couldn’t wait."

Nick looked at him, his grin turning mischievous.

"So, technically, you didn’t lose the challenge, huh?"

Matt chuckled, shrugging as he looked at the Y/N glued to his side.

"Nope, I didn’t lose. I think I actually won something even better."

Chris wiped at his eyes again, sniffling as he looked at Y/N, his expression soft and full of love.

"You two are going to be amazing parents. This little one is so lucky to have you."

Y/N reached out and took Chris’s hand, squeezing it tightly as she smiled through her tears.

"Thank you, Chris. That means the world to us."

Nick clapped his hands together, the grin never leaving his face.

"Well, I guess this calls for a celebration, huh? Let’s order some food and make this the best day ever."

They all agreed, the room filling with the sound of their joy, and as they gathered around the kitchen table, Matt couldn’t help but feel like the luckiest man in the world.

He looked at Y/N, who was beaming at him, her eyes still sparkling with tears, and ge couldn’t help but think that this was the best video they’d ever made; not because of the challenge, but because it captured a moment that would change their lives forever.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Extra - comments

"this has to be the best twist ever 😭😭 I was NOT expecting Matt to drop that bombshell at ALLLL"

"omg, they're going to be such amazing parents 🥺"

"chris’s reaction had me in TEARS!!! the way he just broke down crying when he realized he’s going to be an uncle… this is why I love them so much, they're so genuine 😞"

"nick’s face when he finally understood what matt meant by ‘the oven’ LMAOOO"

"FUCK NO, I was laughing so hard during the egg challenge, and then I ended up crying when matt revealed Y/N is pregnant 🤧"

"matt is going to be the greatest dad out there, I just know it 🙏🏻"

"who cares about a fucking broken egg when you’ve got a real baby on the way 😩"

"when matt said the baby was in the oven, I thought he was joking about the egg, I did NOT see that coming 🤡"

"please guys, let me in the group hug 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻"

taglist:

@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @earth2starkey @freshloveforthefit @sturniolowhore @luvr4miya @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @hearts4chriss @cupidzsq @junnniiieee07 @lightsgore @gidgett11037 @soimightlikeoldmen69 @ldr-sl0t @its-jennarose @sainzzsturns @soso-scarlettolivia @bitchydragonparadise @freshsturns @h3arts4harry @patscorner @strnilolo @bernardsbendystraws @poetatorturadaa @meg-sturniolo @orangeypepsi @jnkvivi @chrisactualwife @fratbrochrisgf @elordilover @somegirlfromasgard @hpyjw @colorthecosmos444 @thewhispersofthewaves @mattslolita @imwetforyourmom @mrl217 @sturnsmia @mattsfavbitchhh @sturnioloshacker @soursturniolo @blahbel668 @sarosfilms @moncherriis @tobesolonelyjess @zainabthescientist @littlemisswhore

(If you want to be added to the taglist, go to this post)

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inkedinshadows · 3 months ago

Text

Nights and Days

Pairing: Azriel × reader

Summary: Azriel and Y/N are on a mission in Illyria, but as they move from one camp to another, they’re caught in a blizzard and are forced to find shelter in the nearest inn. Thanks to the shadowsinger, there's only one bed.

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, p in v, just a sprinkle of shadow play, language, lots of witty banter

Word count: 6.3k

A/N: this is my first time writing smut, so I'd really appreciate it if you let me know what you think 🥺

Groups of rebels had begun to appear all over Illyria, claiming that Rhys was not a good High Lord, that a low-born bastard was not suited to be their general, and that training their women was nothing more than a waste of time.

After two weeks of diplomacy that led to absolutely nothing, Rhys had dispatched the Inner Circle to deal with the rebels. Mor and Amren had stayed in Velaris to make sure nothing happened, but the others had been sent out to Illyria. And Y/N had been paired up with Azriel.

They were flying from one war camp to the next—Y/N trying to focus on anything other than Azriel holding her close as he flew—when it started to snow.

“Is it safe to keep going?” she asked him, glancing at his beautiful wings flapping behind him.

“Would you rather I land now? In the middle of nowhere?” Azriel looked down at her with a little smirk on his face. “Give me some credit, Y/N. I can handle a little snow.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot you’re a big, tough Illyrian warrior. My bad.”

He didn't answer, but she didn't need to look at him to know he was still smirking. That annoyingly attractive smirk always made her want to kiss him. She focused on the forest below, on anything other than his lips and how close they’d be if she would just turn her head his way.

They flew in silence for just a few more minutes before the snow began to fall more heavily. Y/N simply looked at Azriel with a raised eyebrow, not bothering to use words.

“You’re insufferable, you know that?” he said when he noticed her expression, but there was a hint of amusement in his voice. “Camp is not that far. We can still make it.”

“Azriel, did you wake up this morning and just decided to be stupid?” She pointed at the grey sky above them, where more clouds were gathering with the promise of more snow to come. “You see that, right? It’s already late and we both know it’ll only get worse. We won’t reach the next camp before it turns into a blizzard. Besides, I’m freezing my ass off out here.”

His only answer was a low chuckle. “Oh, yeah? The poor princess is freezing her little ass off?”

She smacked him on the shoulder. “My ass is anything but little, shadowsinger. Shouldn’t you find us a shelter or something, instead of making fun of me?”

“Said the one who just called me stupid,” he pointed out. He lifted a brow, flashing her another one of those smirks. “Maybe you should apologize for that, and I might think about landing somewhere.”

She cocked her head, unsure if he was messing around or not. “I refuse to apologize for telling the truth. And you’d better land soon, or I’ll kick your ass when you do.”

Azriel’s laugh echoed in her ears, and it took all her focus not to smile just at that sound she so rarely got to hear. “As if you could actually kick my ass.”

If her arms hadn’t been wrapped around his neck, she would have crossed them over her chest. Or maybe she would have used them to strangle him, if only it wouldn't mean they'd fall out of the sky. Eventually, she settled to roll her eyes again. “Azriel, I’m being serious.”

Though she enjoyed their usual banter and she knew as well as everyone that she could never kick his ass, she hadn’t lied. Even with her Illyrian leathers, she was starting to freeze out there in the snow, and there was no way they would reach their destination without being caught in a full-blown blizzard.

“Relax. Despite what you think, Y/N, I’m not stupid.” He gestured to something below them just as she opened her mouth to protest. “It’s an inn. You would have noticed it already, if only you hadn’t been so busy complaining.”

“Shut up,” she grumbled, squinting to see through the trees and the snow. But as Azriel glided down, she finally saw it. It was a rather large building for an inn in the middle of the woods—many Illyrians probably passed through it—so there was a high chance of finding a couple of rooms to spend the night in.

Azriel landed and gently set her on the ground. Together, they headed for the door and were welcomed inside by the warmth of a fire in the corner of the room. She shook the snow off her hair as she took in their surroundings—a few tables full of Illyrian warriors, most of them drinking and laughing quite loudly.

“We ran out of double rooms.” The innkeeper looked at them as they approached, apparently too bored to even bother with greetings. “But we’ve still got a few single ones.”

Before she could tell him that two rooms were perfect, Azriel was already answering. “We need only one, actually.”

Next thing she knew, he had grabbed her hand and was leading her up the stairs, a key now clutched in his fingers. She waited for the door to close behind them before she turned to him with a frown. “What the hell was that? Why only one room?”

Azriel tossed his pack on the floor and replied as if the answer was obvious. “The hall was packed with drunk Illyrians.”

“So?”

He looked at her then, and she couldn’t quite understand what she saw in his eyes. Was it concern? Or frustration because she still didn’t realize something he thought was so simple?

“I’m not letting you sleep in another room alone, when a bunch of drunk Illyrians have just seen you, probably the only female here, walk in.”

Well, that was not what she expected. But as she thought it over, she couldn’t deny he had a point. She was able to hold her own in a fight, just not against fully trained warriors, and she didn't want to take any risk, especially when it was just one night.

Not knowing what to answer, she looked around the room, which consisted of only one bed and a small dresser—lame and boring, but it would do. Except for the one single bed.

She watched as Azriel sat on an old rug, the only decoration there was. “And what are you doing now, exactly?”

He shrugged, with that same expression that seemed to tell her the answer was obvious. “I'll take the floor, you take the bed.”

She almost laughed at that. “You can't sleep on the floor, not with your wings. I'll do it.”

“I'll be fine,” he replied, and extended his wings behind him as if to prove it. “Why would you want to sleep on the floor anyway?”

“Because I don't want you to do it,” she answered matter-of-factly. “Now get your ass off that floor, shadowsinger.”

Azriel did no such thing and instead leaned back against the wall and extended his legs in front of him. Her gaze dropped to his thighs, the muscles shifting with the movement.

“Why would I do that? It's comfortable here.”

She looked up again, her arms crossed over her chest. “It's not and you know it.”

Both of them too stubborn to give in, they glared at each other. She made no move to sit on the bed, and he made no move to get up. They probably could have spent hours like this, but she couldn't stand the idea of Azriel sleeping on a half-consumed rug, even if it meant she'd do it.

“You wouldn't want to face the rebels with a sore body tomorrow, would you?” she tried, hoping it'd make him think straight.

“I've slept on the ground before, I'll be fine. Big, tough Illyrian warrior, remember?” His lips twitched up, and amusement glinted in his hazel eyes. “Just take the bed, Y/N. We have a long day ahead of us.”

“Which is exactly why you should sleep on the bed, Az,” she snapped before taking a deep breath and speaking more calmly. “I'm just the backup. It doesn't matter if I'm sore.”

“It matters to me.”

His words hung heavily in the air, and she swallowed, not sure how to react to them or to the fervor in his voice. There was an intensity in his eyes that she’d never seen before and, unable to his gaze any longer, she blinked.

“You’re not going to budge, are you?” she asked with a sigh, her arms falling back to her sides.

“No.” And there it was again, that teasing grin she usually wanted to kiss. Right now, though, she felt more like punching him for his stubbornness. It outmatched even her own. “So I suggest you listen and take the bed. You need some rest.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Oh, and you don't?”

This time, it was his turn to sigh and roll his eyes at her. “Y/N, I’ll be fine. I’ve slept in worse conditions, and it’s only just one night anyway.”

And yet, the thought of him sleeping on that rug while she was all comfortable on the bed didn’t sit right with her. Just like her well-being mattered to him, his mattered to her. Maybe it was because he’d admitted it, or because he’d rather sleep on the floor than let her stay in another room when the place was full of Illyrians. Or maybe she was just trying to find some kind of excuse, but the words were out before she could think better of them.

“Sleep on the bed. With me.”

Azriel’s eyes widened, and she immediately regretted even thinking about it. “I beg your pardon?”

“I mean… it’s just…” she stuttered, her cheeks heating up as she looked away. What a huge mistake she’d just made. Just because he cared about her didn’t mean he’d want to share a bed with her. What was she even thinking? “I know it’s small and there’s not much space, but I just… I thought it’d still be more comfortable than the floor… you know?” Her voice trailed off, and she stared down at her feet.

Deafening silence filled the room, and then Azriel finally spoke, his tone cautious. “And that’s all you were asking?”

She frowned, not sure what else she might have been asking. But she quickly realized what words she had used and how that could potentially sound like something more than an offer to share the bed. Sleep on the bed. With me. Cauldron, she was so stupid. Her face turned an even deeper shade of red. When was the last time she had blushed?

“No, I wasn’t— that’s not what I—” She couldn’t get the words out, and it didn’t help that her mind was now wandering toward certain scenarios that involved the two of them, a bed, and very little clothing. She turned away from him and mumbled, “Whatever.”

“I think this is the first time I've ever seen you speechless.” There was amusement in his voice, and she knew the asshole was smirking once more. “You should watch your word choice if that’s not what you intended to ask.”

“Yeah, I know. Sorry,” she murmured as she reached for her pack, but when she took her nightgown out, she realized there was no place to go to get changed. How was she supposed to change in front of him after such an embarrassing mistake? So instead, she delayed the moment she’d have to do it by trying to explain again. “It wasn’t my intention to imply anything. It came out wrong.”

She could feel his eyes on her as he answered. “I noticed. What was your intention, then?”

The look she gave him was one of annoyance. He knew exactly what her intention was, and he just liked to mess with her. She glared at him for a moment before she replied, “I meant what I said. I don’t want you to sleep on that rug, and you don’t want me to do it either. So, the only other option is that we share the bed.”

“Mh, I see.” His lips tugged up in a self-satisfied grin that just made her want to hit him to see it disappear. Not that she could hit him even if she really wanted to. Azriel would block her blow with little effort. But how could she have ever wanted to kiss him?

“So sleeping next to me is the only option?” he added.

“You know what?” she snapped, gesturing to the rug where he was still sitting like it was the most comfortable place he’d ever been. “I changed my mind. Sleep on the floor. I don’t care.”

He chuckled. Chuckled. Cauldron boil her.

She turned her back on him and, without giving it any second thought, she began undressing. She hadn’t realized how warm the Illyrian leathers were until she shivered as soon as she took them off.

“It seems like you’re cold,” Azriel drawled from behind her.

“I’m not,” she replied. She put on her nightgown and sought refuge under the covers. “Not for long, anyway.”

How was Azriel going to spend the night on a rug, without a blanket? When he didn’t answer, she considered maybe asking him one last time to share the bed. Out of the goodness of her heart, she supposed.

But then Azriel spoke again, amusement clear in his voice. And the goodness of her heart be damned.

“You're cold, aren't you?”

She sighed, wrapping the blanket tighter around her body. “No.”

“Liar.”

“Prick.”

“I'm the prick? You're the one who suggested we should share the bed.”

Y/N resisted the urge to turn on her side and face him. Maybe it was stupid and childish of her, but she kept lying with her back to him. “I don't see how that makes me a prick, Az. Besides, you're the one who made fun of me because of it, which means you're the prick here.”

His voice still carried a sense of playfulness as he answered. “I made fun of you because you stumbled over your words like a fool. It was quite amusing, to be honest.”

Instead of replying, she slid a hand out from under the blanket and flipped him off over her shoulder. As she hid it again and curled up in the bedsheets, Azriel’s soft laugh made her smile despite herself.

She heard some noise and, assuming he was getting changed and ready for the night, she closed her eyes. But her mind was running wild.

Images of his hands on her. Of her hands on him. Their lips touching, first tenderly, then passionately. Their bodies pressed together as pleasure overcame them. All scenarios she had never let herself fully consider before, now evoked by Azriel's misunderstanding of her words. Scenarios she now knew for sure would never happen if the way he'd teased her for even suggesting sharing the bed was any indication.

“Make room for me?”

His voice was so close to her that she started, her head snapping around to find him standing next to the bed. He had taken off his leathers and was now wearing loose pants and a shirt. His wings were tucked in tight behind him—those beautiful wings that she knew were bigger than Cassian's and Rhysand's. She still wasn't sure she should believe Mor about the correlation between an Illyrian's wingspan and other body parts.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you,” he added with a small smile.

“You and your absurdly silent steps,” she grumbled, but she was already moving to the other side of the bed.

Only that there wasn’t exactly an ‘other side’, not when the bed was barely big enough for both of them. As Azriel slipped under the sheets, she found herself with her back pressed against his chest. His familiar scent of night-chilled mist and cedar filled her senses, and his warmth seeped through her, chasing away the remnants of the cold that even the blanket hadn’t yet managed to rid her of.

“Tell me you don’t move a lot when you sleep,” she said as he settled behind her. “Because if you push me off, I’ll make you regret not staying on that rug.”

His laugh skittered down her back. “You always have something to say, don't you?”

“I promise you, the moment there will be nothing to say, I will shut up,” she replied with a chuckle.

Silence fell and Y/N nestled more against his side. She just couldn't help it. Feeling him so close, their bodies pressing together... it was intoxicating, and she wanted to stay like that forever. She hesitated a moment, and then she decided that she might as well do it: grabbing his arm, she wrapped it around her waist and laced their fingers together, their intertwined hands resting against her stomach. Azriel tensed behind her, and she thought he might pull away, but he didn’t. Instead, he released a deep breath that tickled the back of her neck.

“I would never let you fall off the bed,” he murmured. His voice was so close to her ear that it almost made her shiver. And as if to show he really meant what he said, Azriel draped his wings around her.

Y/N suddenly had a lump in her throat. Being enveloped in his wings was somehow more intimate than lying so close to each other. “Glad to hear it,” was all she could think about. After a second, she added in a whisper, “And thank you for not letting me sleep alone.”

Azriel’s arm tightened around her waist, his breath warm against her neck. When he spoke, she could tell by his tone alone that he wanted to say more than just, “You're welcome.” She didn't push him though. He'd tell her when and if he decided to.

She closed her eyes and tried to fall asleep, letting the sound of the blizzard outside lull her, but with Azriel holding her it was nearly impossible. Wrapped in his arms and wings, she felt safe and protected. Everything else seemed to disappear until it was just the two of them in their small cocoon.

“Can you turn over?”

Her eyes opened at his question, but she didn't move. To face him would mean being only inches away from him. She didn't trust herself to be that close to him. To his lips.

“Why?”

“Just turn over, Y/N,” he whispered. “Please.”

It was the vulnerability in his voice—the barely audible ‘please’—that had her giving in. She had never heard him say it before, not like that.

But as she complied, her face was even closer to his than she'd anticipated. Their noses were almost touching, and she made a point not to let her gaze drop to his lips.

Azriel didn't say anything. They stared into each other's eyes for a few moments or maybe an hour—Y/N didn't know. The one thing she knew was that her heart was beating faster in her chest, and it only got worse when he brushed her cheek, his touch gentle and soft. She smiled, and the movement caused his gaze to dip to her mouth. She waited for him to look up again, but he didn't.

Her smile turned into a little smirk. “Are you just going to stare at my lips all night, or do you plan to actually do something about it?”

Azriel looked at her again, and though he tried to look annoyed, she could see a hint of amusement in his eyes. “Why do you always have to make such quick-witted comments?”

“Shut up and kiss me,” she replied before she even knew what she was saying. She didn't regret it though, because he did it.

And the world shrank till there was just Azriel.

His lips were soft against hers, warm and inviting. His hand moved from her cheek to the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her hair as he pulled her closer. She melted against him, opening up for his tongue to slip inside, tasting her slowly, almost reverently. Her heart was beating so fast it might have jumped out of her chest.

She'd wanted this to happen for the longest time, and now that it was real, the leash she'd kept on herself vanished. Every feeling, every emotion she'd stifled for so long, now rushed to the surface like a tidal wave.

What had started as a tender kiss soon turned into something passionate and greedy. She whimpered softly against his lips, and her hands began to make their way down to the hem of his shirt.

“Y/N.” Azriel's whisper stopped her as she looked into his eyes. She could see her own need reflected there. “Are you sure about this?”

“I don't look sure enough to you?” She raised an eyebrow. “Maybe next time I should just send you a note and—”

Azriel silenced her with another kiss. “You and your sarcastic answers,” he murmured with a smile.

Y/N giggled and cupped his cheek, brushing her thumb against his lips. “I mean it, Az,” she said, her tone softer now. “I'm sure about it.”

“Good.” He pulled her flush against him as his hands roamed down her back. “Because if I start, I don't think I could stop.”

“Good,” she repeated before she kissed him again.

Y/N tugged on his shirt, and they parted long enough for her to take it off, though it took a bit of struggle to undo the clasps on his back and free his wings. She'd seen him shirtless before, mostly when he was training—he was a real feast for the eye—but now she got to touch him, to run her hands across his torso and feel him shudder. His mouth descended on her neck in response, leaving a trail of wet kisses while his hands gripped her backside.

“You were right, princess,” he murmured, his breath hot against her skin. “Your ass is definitely not little.”

She chuckled as he kneaded it. “Told you.”

Azriel hummed, planting one last kiss on her neck before he shifted position and Y/N found herself pressed down on the mattress, the shadowsinger now on top of her. As she pulled him closer for their lips to meet yet again, his hands caressed her legs, trailing up her thighs and slipping under her nightgown.

She held her breath as he brushed past her panties, lingering just long enough to make her shiver. He then moved up her body, causing the fabric to rise and reveal her soft flesh.

Y/N broke the kiss, a small sigh leaving her lips when Azriel’s hands reached her breasts. He smiled at the sound, and as their eyes met, his gaze was so full of desire that her core clenched.

She wanted him. She needed him.

Before she could reach between them to push down his pants, Azriel gently stopped her by grabbing her wrists, sensing what her intention was. “Not yet,” he murmured.

She frowned. A slight tug was all it took for him to release her hands, though she didn't try to undress him again. “Why not?”

And there it was again, that smirk. But now, with him on top of her, both of them half naked, she didn't simply want to kiss it. No, she wanted do all the things she'd never let herself consider.

“Because I want to see you first, princess.”

Azriel was already pushing her nightgown up, but as usual, she couldn't keep her mouth shut. “So it's official? You're calling me princess now? You've never done that before.”

He looked down at her with so much desire that it seemed to set her body on fire. “I've never been about to fuck you before,” he answered, his voice low and sultry.

Her thighs clenched together, but before she could come up with a response, Azriel removed her nightgown. Her skin was already so heated she barely felt the bite of the cool air, and it was completely forgotten when he ran his hands all over her body, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“You're so beautiful,” he whispered as he leaned down to take one of her nipples in his warm mouth, a soft moan escaping her as she shivered.

Her fingers tangled in his hair to keep him close, and she arched against him when his tongue flicked out to tease her.

“And you're so responsive,” he murmured. Hooking a scarred finger into the waistband of her panties, he pulled them down her legs. The scent of her arousal wafted through the room as Azriel nudged her legs open and settled in between them.

Y/N was about to tell him to hurry, her need to feel him against and inside her now almost overwhelming. But she couldn’t form the words, not as Azriel pushed his hips against hers and she felt the evidence of his own arousal pressing hard against her wet core.

His hands caressed her sides, her ass, her thighs, and yet he never touched her where she needed it most.

“Azriel…” she complained, eyes locked on him. She moved her hips to grind against his erection, seeking some sort of friction, and she was rewarded by his sharp inhale. But it still wasn't enough.

“Be patient, Y/N.” His mouth descended on her neck again, biting the soft spot where it met her shoulder. “I want to taste you first. I want to worship every inch of you.”

Even though she closed her eyes at his little nips, she shook her head. “Azriel, I appreciate it. I really do. But you have no idea how long I've waited for this.” Her breath hitched when his tongue swirled around her nipple again. “We can leave the worshipping for later. I need you now.”

“You need me, uh?” He kissed her other breast, and she bucked her hips against him once more. “And you've waited a long time for this?”

Y/N looked at him again, her fingers still clutching his hair. She nodded and realized her mistake too late—a new mischievous gleam entered Azriel's hazel eyes.

His lips trailed down her stomach and toward her belly button. Each kiss sent a shiver right to her core. “Then you can wait a little longer.”

She groaned, her patience now at its limit. “Azriel, you—”

A gasp cut her off as he licked a stripe up her dripping folds. She couldn't tell who moaned first when Azriel tasted her once more, his tongue flicking over her clit.

Her fingers tightened in his black curls and her head fell back on the pillow. Azriel's lips closed around her clit and she clamped a hand on her mouth to keep quiet as he gently sucked on it.

His shadows began to slither up her body, their touch cool against her heated skin. Her breathing quickened and she had to hold back a moan when his tongue was replaced by a finger slowly sliding inside her folds.

But it didn't move. Azriel looked up at her and she wished she could somehow capture the picture: his head between her legs, those beautiful hazel eyes focused on her with an almost predatory intent.

“Don't go all quiet on me now, princess,” he murmured against her skin. “I want to hear all your pretty noises.”

A tendril of shadow brushed against her hand, and she removed it from her mouth. “Az, the other rooms—”

He curled his finger to hit that soft, spongy spot inside her that had her see stars, and she couldn't stop the moan that left her lips.

“I don't care if someone hears you.” His voice was a low, almost commanding growl. “Let them hear you. Let them know you're with me.”

She was about to answer, to tell him she wasn't sure she should, but Azriel added a second finger, and she lost all control, another small cry of pleasure slipping out.

Azriel seemed satisfied because his smirk reappeared. “If I had known this is all it took to put a stop on the witty comments, I would have done it a long time ago.”

Y/N wanted to make one of those very witty comments to prove him wrong, to show him she hadn't become helpless just because of how good he made her feel, but his tongue circled her clit again and Mother above, she was helpless.

“Do you want to come, princess?”

Unable to form even a coherent thought, all she could do was nod, her body on the brink of release as his fingers curled once more, drawing a moan from deep in her throat.

“Use your words, Y/N.”

“Yes… yes, please,” she panted.

But instead of keeping going, of driving her over that sweet, craved edge, Azriel placed a kiss to her inner thigh and slowly removed his fingers from her folds. He even moved away from her, standing up at the foot of the bed.

She groaned, pushing herself up on her elbows to glower at him. “Azriel, you get back here right now.”

He only grinned. “Ah, there she is.”

“If you're doing this just because you missed my comments, you should know that I—”

The words died on her tongue as soon as his hands swiftly undid the buttons of his pants. Her eyes followed his every movement as he pushed them down his legs, watching his muscles shift and his wings unfold ever so slightly to keep him balanced.

He wasn't wearing any underwear.

The realization caused her brain to stop working, and the sight of his naked body took her breath away. Maybe the rumors about Illyrian wingspans were true after all.

Her mouth dry, she swallowed before finally speaking again. “Azriel,” she repeated, her voice quivering with barely restrained desire. “Get back here right now.”

For once, he obliged without questioning, his grin wide.

Climbing onto the bed, he crawled up her body until his cock pressed against her entrance, her need for him now through the roof.

Their eyes met, and slowly—too slowly—Azriel pushed in, stretching her inch by delicious inch, both of them releasing a moan when he bottomed out, his hips flush against her.

“Fuck,” he groaned, the sound shooting straight down to her core. “Fuck, Y/N... you feel incredible.”

She had no words to describe how he felt inside her. ‘Incredible’ was an understatement, but her mind was too foggy to think of something else. The only thing she was sure of was that she needed him to move.

“Azriel,” she breathed as she wrapped her legs around him. He shuddered when she accidentally brushed his wings with her toes. “Please, move. Now.”

With his elbows on either side of her head, he leaned down to kiss her, pulling out almost all the way. “I love hearing you beg for it,” he whispered against her lips, and rocked back into her with a quick roll of his hips before she could even think of a response.

He didn’t even try to go slow, instead immediately setting a relentless pace that left her panting, but she didn’t mind. Every choked sound and breathless moan were swallowed by his kiss, their tongues swirling together. Her hands found their way into his hair, around his neck, down his back, and her nails scraped along his warm and slightly sweaty skin while he thrust into her, her hips rising to meet his.

Azriel’s own groans and whimpers were music to the ears, each of them bringing her closer to release. As if he knew her body well enough already, he seemed to sense it too, because his lips left hers to trail down her neck.

“That’s it, princess,” he praised. His clipped voice let her know he was probably trying to hold back his own impending orgasm. “Come for me.”

His shadows flew in the little space between their bodies to tease her clit, drawing a guttural groan from her. It was like nothing she’d ever felt before—cool against her hot skin, a barely-there touch that yet was enough to make her shudder and whine. But it was the uniqueness of it all that sent her toppling over the edge.

A loud cry broke from her as her vision blurred and her body tensed, her nails slightly digging into Azriel’s back while he slowed his thrusts to draw out her pleasure. But he soon resumed his punishing pace, his hips slamming into hers almost frantically, the sound of skin on skin filling the small room as he chased his own release.

She choked out his name right as he stilled, hot spurts of cum filling her, his last few moans muffled when she pulled him in for another desperate kiss.

They were both panting by the time they broke apart, but neither of them tried to move. Azriel still lay buried deep inside her, and simply rested his forehead against hers, a smile on his lips that mirrored her own.

Despite his heavy breaths, his brows raised as he asked playfully, “So was the wait worth it?”

“It was,” she answered with a chuckle. Her hands came up to cup his face, her thumbs brushing over his cheekbones. “You certainly know what you’re doing, shadowsinger.”

Wrong words.

“Is that so?” His grin only widened, and he gave another roll of his hips that dragged a groan from the back of her throat.

She slapped him on the shoulder, but her smile matched his. “Smug ass.”

Azriel's soft laugh tickled her cheek as he kissed it. Slowly, he pulled out of her, leaving her with a feeling of emptiness.

Not ready to let him go just yet, she curled up in his arms as soon as he lay down next to her. Azriel immediately embraced her, holding her close to his chest, their legs tangled.

A comfortable silence settled over them as they bathed in the afterglow of sex, interrupted only by their soft breathing and the blizzard still raging outside.

As the minutes passed, Y/N struggled to keep her eyes open, but she had always wanted to trace the swirling lines of Azriel's tattoos, and now she had her chance. Her fingers danced along the Illyrian design, following the pattern from his neck to his arm, then lingering a bit longer on his sculpted pecs and feeling the muscle beneath her fingertips. His heart was beating fast, pounding in his chest.

“Can you promise me something?”

She glanced up at him, his eyes already fixed on her. The corner of her lips twitched upwards. “Depends on what it is.”

Azriel was silent for a long moment before he spoke again with a new seriousness in his tone. “Promise me that we’ll give this a chance. That we’ll give… us a chance.”

Her fingers halted their roaming, her heart skipped a bit, and a part of her whispered that she had heard that wrong, that she had misunderstood. No way he was actually asking her what she thought he was asking her, despite just having had sex.

She had to swallow the lump in her throat to be able to murmur, “Do you mean that?”

Azriel's eyes softened, like he knew she was even more vulnerable now than while they were fucking, and that whether her heart broke or not depended entirely on his answer.

“I’ve waited for this for a long time too, Y/N,” he said gently, cupping her cheeks to look right into her eyes. “I don’t want just this one night with you. I want all the nights you’ll give me.”

Y/N smiled then, so bright it could have lit up the whole room. She wanted to kiss him senseless, to hold him tight and never let go. And nothing was stopping her anymore, she realized, so she did just that.

She showered his face with tiny kisses. Every beautiful inch, from his nose to his jawline, from his eyebrow to his chin. Azriel's arms wrapped around her middle to pull her closer, and she relented her assault only when he chuckled.

Their eyes met again, and she knew there was no turning back now. But she would never turn back now.

“I’ll give you all the nights in the world, Az,” she finally said once the burst of joy subsided. “And the days, too. I'll give you anything you want.”

His smile was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. It was wider than ever before and the urge to touch his small dimples rushed through her—dimples she'd never known he had, but that she'd do anything to see again.

When he kissed her, it was slow yet passionate, gentle yet desperate, their breaths mingling, their hands caressing cheeks and running through hair.

“You're the only thing I want,” Azriel murmured once their lips parted. “Every night and every day. I want only you.”

Those were probably the most beautiful words she'd ever heard. Not even in her dreams did she imagine he would say them. Dwelling on what it would be like to share moments of passion was one thing, but this…

She moved to straddle him, mindful of his wings splayed out beneath him. She wanted to run her fingers down their length, and hopefully, sooner rather than later, she might get to do just that.

“Then I hope you're not too tired, shadowsinger.” She leaned down to trail kisses along his tattoo, but her eyes never left his. “Because you can't say something like that without expecting me to fuck you again.”

His hands tightened their grip on her thighs, her words enough to ignite the fire in him once more. “I'm yours, princess. We have all night.”

“All the nights,” she corrected him with a grin, already grinding on him. “And all the days.”

Maybe they would be facing the rebels with sore bodies, after all.

Tags: @mrsjna @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy @cynthiesjmxazrielslover

(If I accidentally added someone who wanted to be tagged only in part 3 of A Helping Hand and not the general tag list, please let me know and I'll fix it)

#acotar #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #sjm #azriel × reader #fanfic #azriel x y/n #azriel spymaster #azriel smut #azriel fluff #one bed trope #shadowsinger

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flwrstqr · 5 months ago

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𓈒 ENHYPEN REACTION WHEN YOU PULL THEIR TIE ˒

── ୨୧ enha x f!reader 𝗀enre. fluff, imagines, ot7 works 𝒘𝗈𝗋𝖽 counts . . . 689 𝔀arning not proofread, kisses, petnames, slightly suggestive ┊DANi NOTEZ ‎⸝⸝⸝ im addicted to writing ot7 works, but some of these are actually making me kms JFKLSJFL;ADF◞[ continue on to . . . library , request ]

! feedbacks and reblogs are highly appreciated and encouraged! PLS REBLOG ♡

HEESEUNG (이희승)

heeseung's eyes widened as you playfully tugged on his tie, a mischievous smile dancing on your lips. surprise flickered across his features, but then a spark of excitement. he chuckled softly, letting himself be pulled closer to you.

with a gentle tug, he closed the distance between you, his lips meeting yours in a sweet kiss. he melted into the moment, savoring the warmth of your embrace and the softness of your lips against his. his hands snaking its way to your waist. his grip tight and secure as if you were fragile and would slip out of his hands.

when you finally parted, his gaze lingered on you, "you're full of surprises, princess" he murmured, a fond smile playing on his lips. "but I definitely don't mind."

rest of the members below !!

JAY (박종성)

as you playfully tugged on Jay's tie, his eyebrows shot up in surprise, his lips parting slightly in confusion. He blinked at you, a confused expression his face. a faint blush crept up his cheeks as he glanced down at you.

"what are you doing?" he asked, a hint of amusement lacing his words as he gently tried to loosen your grip on his tie. there was a playful glint in his eyes.

his heart raced with anticipation as he awaited your response, his lips quirking into a crooked smile.

JAKE (심재윤)

as your fingers wrapped around jake's tie, he felt a jolt of surprise shoot through him, his cheeks instantly flushing with warmth. he blinked at you, momentarily taken aback by your boldness.

"um, what... what are you doing, baby?" he stammered, his voice slightly shaky as he tried to play it cool, though the flush creeping up his neck betrayed his flustered state. he attempted to muster a playful grin, but it came out more as a nervous twitch of his lips.

despite his efforts to play along, he found himself unable to shake off the flustered feeling that had settled over him. his mind raced with a million thoughts, and his attempts at witty banter fell flat as he struggled to find his composure, his gaze flickering away from yours every now and then.

in the end, he couldn't help but chuckle nervously, his cheeks still tinged with pink. "you caught me off guard there," he admitted sheepishly, a bashful smile gracing his lips.

SUNGHOON (박성훈)

as your fingers tugged on sunghoon's tie, he tilted his head slightly, a playful glint dancing in his eyes. he didn't flinch or question your actions, instead, a knowing smile curved his lips as he leaned closer to you.

without a word, he met your advance halfway, his lips melding seamlessly with yours in a kiss. there was an effortless ease to his response, as if he had anticipated your move. his lips moving in sync with yours, as his fingers ran through your hair softly.

when you finally parted, his gaze lingered on you, then glancing at your lips again. a soft smile played on his lips as he brushed a stray strand of hair from your face, his fingers lingering against your skin.

SUNOO (김선우)

as your fingers tugged on sunoo's tie, he blinked in surprise, his eyes widening slightly as he looked down at you. there was a moment of confusion in his expression, as if he couldn't quite grasp the reason behind your sudden action.

"wait, what?" he exclaimed softly, his voice filled with bewilderment as he tried to process the situation. he glanced around, as if searching for some explanation for your unexpected behavior.

despite his confusion, there was a hint of amusement in his eyes, a playful glint that danced beneath the surface. he tilted his head, a curious smile forming on his lips as he awaited your explanation.

JUNGWON (양정원)

as your fingers teasingly tugged on Jungwon's tie, a smirk tugged at the corners of his lips, his eyes sparkling with mischief. He arched an eyebrow, a knowing glint in his gaze as he looked down at you.

"oh, I see what you're up to," he said, his voice low and filled with playful amusement. there was a hint of teasing in his tone, as if he was enjoying the game.

instead of immediately indulging your request, he leaned in closer, his breath ghosting over your skin as he teased you with his proximity. his lips brushed against yours.

but then, just as quickly as he had leaned in, he pulled back, a mischievous grin spreading across his features. "not so fast," he teased, his voice laced with playful defiance. "you'll have to work a little harder than that, angel."

RIKI (西村力)

as your fingers tugged on Riki's tie, a knowing glint flickered in his eyes, his lips curling into a playful smirk. He leaned in closer, his breath mingling with yours as he looked at you with a mixture of amusement and anticipation.

"well, well, well," he teased, his voice low and tinged with mischief. "Seems like someone's feeling bold today." his tone was playful, but there was a hint of curiosity in his eyes, as if he was intrigued by your sudden boldness.

"but," he continued, drawing out the word as he leaned back slightly, a playful challenge in his gaze, "what do I get in return?" His smirk widened, his eyes dancing with mischief as he awaited your response, enjoying the playful exchange between the two of you.

"my love?" you raise your eyebrow, hoping he would agree.

"need more than that,"

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enha-doodles · 7 months ago

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slytherin boys reacting to their darling being from Ravenclaw?👀

SLYTHERIN GUY'S REACTION TO YOU BEING IN RAVENCLAW | ✧⁺。

Pairing : (Mattheo , Tom , Theodore, Lorenzo , Draco) x reader

Note : tysm for requesting i hope you like it , Hufflepuff is next 🕺🏻🕺🏻

Warning : not proofread, my jokes lmao

MATTHEO RIDDLE

Being with Mattheo is like living in a perpetual comedy sketch. Every time you dazzle him with your Ravenclaw wit, he can't help but playfully roll his eyes and joke about feeling like a first-year struggling with a broomstick. "Seriously, babe, how do you do it?" he'd exclaim, his amusement clear in his eyes. "You've got more brainpower than a room full of Hogwarts professors, and here I am, struggling to remember which potion turns a mouse into a snuffbox."

Despite his self-deprecating humor, you can see the genuine admiration in his eyes, knowing that he's completely smitten with your cleverness. And hey, if being the smart one in the relationship means you get to see that adorable look of amazement on his face, then maybe being a Ravenclaw isn't so bad after all.

TOM RIDDLE

Tom, on the other hand, is a different story altogether. With his competitive nature and Slytherin pride, he can't stand the thought of being outsmarted by anyone, especially his own girlfriend. Every time you happen to know something he doesn't, he's quick to brush it off with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Oh, so you think you're the expert now, do you?" he'll say, a hint of annoyance creeping into his voice. "Just remember who's supposed to be the genius in this relationship."

Despite his competitive edge, you can't help but find it amusing how seriously he takes it all. After all, who knew that trivia night with your boyfriend would turn into a high-stakes battle for intellectual supremacy?

THEODORE NOTT

Theodore, on the other hand, couldn't be more different. He absolutely adores your cleverness, finding your sassy remarks and witty banter completely irresistible. "My darling beauty with brains," he'll say, flashing you a charming smile. "You keep me on my toes, love, and I wouldn't have it any other way."

With Theodore, every conversation feels like a game of verbal chess, with each witty comeback and clever remark only adding to the sparks flying between you. And hey, if being a smartass means getting to see that adorable grin on his face, then sign you up for Ravenclaw house forever.

LORENZO BERKSHIRE

Lorenzo, with his laid-back demeanor and sharp sense of humor, finds your intellect both amusing and slightly irritating at times. "Do you ever turn that brain off, or is it just permanently stuck in overdrive?" he'll tease, though there's a fondness in his eyes that tells you he wouldn't have it any other way.

Despite his occasional annoyance, you know that he secretly loves your quick wit and sharp mind, even if it means enduring the occasional eye roll or sarcastic remark.

DRACO MALFOY

And then there's Draco, the epitome of Slytherin arrogance and charm. While he may grumble about your Ravenclaw intelligence, secretly, you know he's secretly impressed by your cleverness. "Bloody hell, can't you dumb it down a bit ?" he'll joke, though there's a hint of genuine awe in his tone. "But hey, I guess it's better than having a girlfriend who thinks Quidditch is a type of biscuit."

With Draco, every conversation feels like a battle of wits, with each snarky remark and witty comeback only adding to the undeniable chemistry between you. And while he may be a bit of a brat at times, you wouldn't have him any other way. After all, what's a little friendly rivalry between Slytherin sweethearts?

。　　　　✧　　　　⁺　　　。

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plutonianeris · 1 month ago

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venus in the composite chart

Venus in Aries

Imagine a couple who lights up the room with their bold, undeniable chemistry. This is the pair that turns heads, not because they’re trying to, but because they naturally exude a raw, magnetic energy. They’re impulsive when it comes to love flirting with the thrill of the chase and throwing themselves into the heat of passion without hesitation. Together, they’re fiery and full of life, always pushing boundaries, and their affection can feel just as intense as it is spontaneous. People around them might describe them as the “power couple” who isn’t afraid to show their affection, often in grand gestures or spontaneous moments of excitement. For them, love is an adventure, one where they’re always moving fast, breaking barriers, and sparking flames.

Venus in Taurus

Picture a couple who just embodies the definition of comfort and sensuality. This is the duo that loves to indulge in life’s pleasures whether it’s a gourmet meal, a cozy night in with plush blankets, or a slow, luxurious vacation. Together, they build a love that feels like home, grounded in loyalty and simple pleasures. They thrive on physical closeness and have a natural rhythm that others admire, creating a serene, beautiful world just for the two of them. People often see them as the couple that never rushes but enjoys every moment, savoring love as if it were a fine wine. When these two are together, their bond is rock-solid, full of warmth and quiet intimacy.

Venus in Gemini

Now, here’s a couple whose love feels like an endless conversation. They’re the ones who are always talking, sharing ideas, and laughing together. The connection between them is quick, witty, and full of curiosity. Wherever they go, there’s a lively banter that’s infectious people are drawn to their fun, light-hearted vibe. They’re the couple that can spend hours in deep conversation or get swept away in new adventures just because they heard about something exciting. Others might see them as the “social butterflies” who are always in the know, always on the move, and constantly exploring new things together. Their love grows through shared experiences and mental stimulation, keeping them forever engaged with one another.

Venus in Cancer

Think of a couple who make you feel the warmth of home just by being around them. They’re the ones who nurture and care for each other, creating a relationship built on deep emotional security and trust. Together, they radiate a soft, comforting energy that others can’t help but feel safe around. They might be known as the couple who loves to create cozy moments, hosting intimate dinners or spending quiet nights at home wrapped in each other’s arms. Their love is gentle, protective, and deeply nurturing like an emotional sanctuary. They’re the ones you can count on to show unconditional support for each other, with a bond that feels timeless, like a loving family.

Venus in Leo

Here comes the couple that commands attention without even trying. There’s something so regal and magnetic about them when they’re together—it’s like they just know they’re the center of each other’s world. These two aren’t afraid to be bold with their love, expressing it with grand gestures, passionate displays of affection, and a flair for the dramatic. People see them as the couple who is always celebrating their relationship, whether it’s through lavish date nights or over-the-top surprises. Their love is radiant, playful, and full of admiration for one another, and they have no problem being the couple everyone’s eyes are on. For them, love is about romance in the grandest sense something to be celebrated and cherished like a prized treasure.

Venus in Virgo

Picture a couple whose love shows up in the little things. They’re the ones who make sure each other’s favorite coffee is ready in the morning or who know exactly how the other likes their daily routine. Together, they create a relationship that feels grounded, practical, and devoted. While they might not be flashy or over-the-top with their affection, they show their love in the most thoughtful, considerate ways. People see them as the “steady couple,” always reliable and always caring in the most subtle, meaningful gestures. Their love is based on acts of service, quiet dedication, and a deep appreciation for the details that make each other’s life better. It’s a love that grows stronger with each passing day, rooted in mutual respect and care.

Venus in Libra

This is the couple that makes everyone believe in romance. Together, they seem to float through life with a sense of harmony and grace. Their relationship is balanced, full of affection, and always strives for fairness and equality. They’re the couple people turn to when they want to see what a true partnership looks like always charming, always poised. People might describe them as the “beautiful couple,” who seem to do everything together, moving through life like they’re always on the same page. Their love is refined and full of elegance, based on mutual respect, deep understanding, and an appreciation for the beauty in their connection.

Venus in Scorpio

This couple radiates intensity. Together, they have a bond that feels unbreakable, magnetic, and profoundly emotional. Their love goes deep there’s a sense of all-or-nothing, and they’re not afraid to dive into the darker, more transformative aspects of their relationship. People can sense that there’s something powerful between them, an undeniable attraction that feels almost mysterious. They’re the couple who keeps things private, but you just know there’s something deeply passionate simmering beneath the surface. Their love is raw, intense, and sometimes even tumultuous, but it’s also the kind of connection that transforms both of them in profound ways. They’re bound by loyalty, emotional depth, and an unspoken understanding that they’re in it for the long haul.

Venus in Sagittarius

Picture a couple who lives for adventure, always seeking new experiences and horizons to explore together. These two are free spirits, and their love is full of optimism, laughter, and a shared love for discovery. They thrive on new experiences whether it’s traveling to exotic places or philosophizing late into the night. Others see them as the “adventurous couple,” always with a story to tell and plans to explore something new. Together, they create a relationship that’s all about growth, freedom, and expanding their horizons. For them, love is about the journey, not the destination, and they’ll always keep each other excited for what’s next.

Venus in Capricorn

Imagine a couple whose love feels like a steady, enduring force. Together, they build a relationship based on long-term goals, stability, and respect. They may not be the flashiest or most outwardly affectionate duo, but there’s no doubt they’re committed to each other. They’re the couple everyone sees as solid and reliable, the ones who weather any storm and come out stronger. Their love is about building a lasting foundation something that stands the test of time. They’re practical, focused on the future, and work hard to make sure their relationship is secure and successful. People might call them the “power couple” because of their shared ambition and determination to build something that lasts.

Venus in Aquarius

This couple is unique, to say the least. Together, they march to the beat of their own drum, creating a relationship that’s as unconventional as it is exciting. Their love thrives on freedom, individuality, and a shared sense of vision for the future. People might see them as the “unpredictable couple,” the ones who are always doing something unexpected or breaking relationship norms in favor of something more progressive. They’re the pair who values intellectual connection and are drawn to each other’s quirks and eccentricities. For them, love is about equality, innovation, and challenging each other to think outside the box.

Venus in Pisces

Think of a couple whose love feels like a dream a romantic, almost otherworldly connection. Together, they create a world full of compassion, empathy, and emotional depth. They’re the couple that people describe as being deeply in tune with each other, often seeming to communicate without words. Their relationship is full of tenderness and idealism, and they’re not afraid to lose themselves in the magic of their connection. People might see them as the “dreamy couple,” always wrapped up in their own little world of love and creativity. Their bond is spiritual, almost poetic, built on a foundation of unconditional love and emotional sensitivity.

#astrology #astrology observations #composite chart #composite chart venus #composite chart observations #venus observations

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botanicalsword · 10 months ago

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How they approach you ✧ Check their Mars Sign

Mars symbolizes our energy, desires, and pursuit methods. It's associated with our passion, sex drive, and how we chase what we need. In relationships, Mars plays a significant role. It's about how we express our desires, assert ourselves, and handle conflict.

Photo credit @le.sinex

Mars in Aries

They're similar to determined marathon runners who charge forward with enthusiasm, undeterred by any obstacles. Just don't be surprised if they occasionally bump into a wall or two in their relentless pursuit.

Mars in Taurus They're the patient gardeners of love, carefully tending to their relationships like nurturing plants. They take their time to analyze the soil, wait for the perfect weather, and then make their move with unwavering determination.

Mars in Gemini They're the social chameleons of dating, adapting their approach to match the vibe of the person they're interested in. It's like they have a whole wardrobe of different personalities they can slip into, making them the masters of versatility.

Mars in Cancer They're the masters of dropping hints, leaving a trail of clues like a mischievous detective. They keep you on your toes with their mysterious and unpredictable behavior, making every interaction feel like an episode of a thrilling crime drama.

Mars in Leo They're the extravagant romantics, showering their love interest with grand gestures and lavish gifts. They believe in expressing themselves boldly and fearlessly, even if it means occasionally emptying their wallet in the process.

Mars in Virgo They're the undercover romantics, pretending to be cool and collected on the surface while secretly hoping for the other person to make the first move. It's like they're playing a game of emotional hide-and-seek, waiting for someone to uncover their hidden desires.

Mars in Libra They're the hesitant lovers, constantly second-guessing themselves and fearing rejection. They overanalyze every move and struggle with decision-making, like someone trying to choose the perfect Instagram filter for their relationship.

Mars in Scorpio They're the stealthy strategists, waiting in the shadows for the perfect moment to strike. They believe in the power of patience and calculated action, like a ninja plotting their next move.

Mars in Sagittarius They're the jacks-of-all-trades in the game of love. They have a bag full of tricks to please their partner, from witty banter to spontaneous adventures. They're like a one-person circus, always ready to entertain and surprise.

Mars in Capricorn They're the master manipulators, using their cunning and wit to get what they want. They play the game of love like a seasoned chess player, making calculated moves and occasionally catching their opponents off guard.

Mars in Aquarius They're the enigmatic superheroes, silently observing from the sidelines until they muster up the courage to reveal their feelings in a blink-and-you'll-miss-it moment. It's like they have a secret identity, waiting for the perfect time to save the day.

Mars in Pisces They're the poetic dreamers, expressing their feelings in intricate metaphors and whimsical prose. Trying to understand their emotions is like converting a riddle wrapped in a love letter, but once you unravel the mystery, it's like discovering a hidden treasure.

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lis-likes-fics · 1 month ago

Text

Matters of Propriety

Pairings: Rhaenyra Targaryen x Reader, Rhaenyra Targaryen x Laenor Velaryon (Platonic) Word Count: 6.4k words Warnings: NSFW, smut, constant use of metaphors, reference to homosexuality as an illness, fingering, oral (f!receiving), soft dom!Rhaenyra, consensual adultery, useless lesbians, kinktober... A/N: I love Rhaenyra. She's so scrumptious and I enjoyed writing this. I wish I could have done more bc I don't feel like I did her dominance justice, but, given the circumstance, it's actually not an issue. Anyway, enjoy and Happy Halloween!

Rhaenyra brings a hand to her tired eyes, working away at the warmth in her temple as she looks upon her husband. “Do you toil in anything but sea and sex, husband?”

Laenor is especially restless today, just in a more excited way. He's practically beaming from ear and ear as he shares the gossip he's learned with his wife. Although it's a pleasant thing to see him so full of life, Rhaenyra would humbly ask for some rest if she were not so busy today.

Laenor rolls his eyes more pleasantly than she. He turns his back to tidy the scrolls piled on a table. “This isn't sea or sex. It's gossip.” He glances over his shoulder mischievously. “And, yes, I do.”

Rhaenyra sighs. “What are the matters of a servant girl’s likes of sex to me?” Her brows furrow, a light sheen of humor in her voice as she tilts her head. “What are they to you? Might I remind you, Laenor, you prefer snake to oyster.”

Laenor laughs. “And even if she's meant to prefer the same, just as you do, she does not.” He lets out another giddy laugh, like he's thought of some witty banter to add on. “Anyone who feasts upon the wrong meal is my friend.” He turns and leans against the table, looking at her with a quirked brow. “She's your friend, too, Rhaenyra.”

The way he says it makes her squint. “And what is that meant to mean?”

He smirks. “She's one of your servants.”

“Who?”

“Your favorite.”

Now her interest is piqued. She tilts her toward him, almost scoffing as she considers this. “Truly?”

He comes over, leaning over a chair and shrugging. “What reason have I to lie?”

“Entertainment.”

He scoffs, plopping down in the seat opposite her. “I find entertainment in this without need for deceit.” He watches her, watches the way her face shifts as she thinks about what he's just told her. It's surely just rumor. But a rumor like this could be deadly—of course, he knows better than to spread something so dangerous. “Admit it. You're interested.”

She takes in a deep breath, standing to act like she's got better things to do. And she should…but at the moment, she's got nothing to occupy herself until the small council meeting.

“I have no need to be interested.”

He chuckles, rolling his eyes in amusement. “You prefer snake.”

“I do.” She turns away. “Besides, what is there to like without the usefulness of an extra appendage?”

His smirk is diabolical. “Why don't you ask her yourself?”

She tilts her chin up, humoring him for the sake of humoring him. “Perhaps I will.”

It's a wonder his smile grows. It had already been split so far that she wondered if someone had taken a knife to it.

“Excellent!”

Rhaenyra is settled in one of the rare moments where she has time to herself. Laenor is on one of his many ventures, she has no appointments, and no one has come to bother her yet. She's been busying herself with needlework (though she knows she has a terrible hand in it, it gives her something to do).

When someone knocks on the door, she glances up and mutters a distant, “Come.”

The door opens. “Princess.” She glances up at the voice, one she recognizes well. You bow gently, offering a smile as you hold out your tray. “I brought your tea, if it please you.”

Rhaenyra smiles, nodding and allowing you farther inside. “Thank you.”

You come and sit the tray down on the table, pouring her cup and adding her sugar. “Would you like me to bring anything, my princess?”

She shakes her head. “That won't be necessary. Thank you,” she says again.

You hum. Once her tea is prepared, you move to tidy her room. There's no real mess, but the longer you spend in here, the less time you have to spend doing other tedious and mind-numbing work. Besides, the princess has expressed to you how she doesn't mind your presence. You prefer to be here.

You start gathering empty cups and any forgotten dishes, wiping as you go. “If you don’t mind my asking, Princess, how fares your day?” You know she doesn’t mind, but you’ll never be able to shake your impulsion toward over-politeness. “It’s been quite lovely out.”

“That it has,” she says. Rhaenyra sets down her canvas, reaching for her cup to take a sip of the tea you’d so graciously brought her. “Meanwhile, I have been confined to the castle doing court duties and pretending the men are actually listening to me.”

A stray chuckle seeps from your nose. “One day, you shall be queen, my princess, and then they will have to listen to you.”

Rhaenyra’s chuckle is more rueful, but just as stray as yours. “That day can’t come soon enough, it seems.”

She likes the way you address her. Most of the people here call her princess with such emphasis, as if they were reminding her of her place as though it were eternal. She is the heir to the throne, yet they call her princess almost like they were saying “peasant”. When you say it, “my princess”, she almost thinks for a moment that she is already Queen.

Rhaenyra hums, glancing at you as you feather thin dust from shelves. Laenor’s words echo in her mind. She had almost forgotten the rumor she’d heard, almost let it slip her mind in the time between seeing the two of you. As she watches you, it’s glued in her mind, stuck like honey in her head.

She imagines it now. Your lips against a woman’s—a woman’s whose lips are suspiciously pale and whose nose is suspiciously distinct.

“Some gossip has come about me from my husband today,” she says without much thought. It slips out more than she means to say it. Even her tone has become shifty in the last moment. “It seems he’s as bored as to listen to the rumors of the servants in the Keep.”

You hum without turning, still stalling to avoid going back to work. “Is that so, Princess? What rumors, if I may ask?”

She chooses her words carefully, slowly. “Rumors of a servant girl with…queer customs.”

Your hesitance was almost indistinguishable. You could have gotten away with it, but she’s watching too closely. You continue almost without a hitch. “What sort of queer customs?”

Rhaenyra licks her bottom lip. “Ones that make her adverse to the taste of sailors…or sea-men, in other words.” She almost couldn’t believe herself. She’s turned to her husband’s humor.

There’s a long pause where you consider her words, wondering if they’re funny or thoroughly ridiculous. You suppose they’re both. “I do not know many who prefer the taste of…sea-men, as you say.” You don’t look at her. You keep your gaze solely on task. “Though a different story can be told of sailors.”

Rhaenyra shifts her whole body toward you, tilting her head and smirking lightly in a less-than-subtle investigation. “Do you like it?”

You purse your lips, considering your options.Your belly churns. “Would it be rude not to answer, my princess?”

She hums. “Well, it is generally frowned upon to disobey your masters.” She doesn’t want to pressure you, but she’s far too intrigued now to let it go. She doesn’t quite know why.

You sigh gently, thinking for a moment. She’s right. You try to find solace in the fact that you don’t think she’s the type to look down upon you and order your execution because of your…your perversions.

You’d hoped to keep it secret forever. You’ve even tried to fix yourself of your sickness, but you’ve found that it is something that cannot be done.

“Truthfully…” you mutter, your heart aching in a sad way, “No, Your Highness, I do not like…” you’re getting a bit exhausted of the metaphor but you would rather not change to practical terms when talking to the princess, “...sea-men.”

She looks away from you, and you’re grateful for it because you can pretend to busy yourself again. “I suppose that’s understandable enough. They can be quite salty in nature.”

Gods be good.

“Yes. Quite,” you mumble dismissively. You know you shouldn’t ask, but it’s eating away at you. You could be in danger… “If you don’t mind my asking, Princess, where did Ser Laenor hear such a rumor?”

She tries not to make a joke about his tastes. “Who knows where he finds his gossip?” You hum in agreement to dismiss it.

Rhaenyra’s curiosity is probably what got the better of her. She didn't fully intend to ask, but Laenor's words from below are stuck in her head. “Why don't you ask her yourself?”

“I wonder what fun it could truly be.” She waves a hand, taking a sip from her near forgotten tea. “Seeing as it could only be used for fun in this instance; there's no duty without the injection.”

You swallow thickly. “I wouldn't say simply fun.” You shouldn't say anything at all. “Though it does remove transaction from the activity.” You sigh, faltering to keep up the ruse with your unnecessary feathering of clean shelves. You turn toward her, running your fingers through the slightly dusty feathers. “With something like this, there must be trust.”

Rhaenyra watches you closely, the way you speak of it. It's more blatant than you should be in this circumstance, but she's not really focused on that when she's too busy studying the crease between your brows or the softness of your lips.

“Without trust, there is no fun or intimacy in it. Without fun or intimacy, there is no pleasure. You must be willing to give up a part of yourself and accept a part of someone else.”

There's a silence where you watch each other. You're quick to realize your mistake as you physically take a step back, looking down at your feet and hiding your embarrassment. She doesn't say anything, she just watches you with this look you can't decipher.

“Forgive me, Princess.” You bow your head and drop your hands by your side. You turn quickly, unsure what else to do. “In truth, I simply worry for the girl. She could be in quite a lot of danger if she were to be exposed. I shall pray to the Mother for her safety.”

You should leave. You've likely overstayed your welcome.

Rhaenyra breaks away from her thoughts, trying to organize them as she sits a little straighter. She sets her cup down on the table before her. She hums, trying to be light-hearted again but failing with the way her head is so full of your words. “‘Tis a shame, really,” she clears her throat, “that such a thing is of such offense.” She takes a breath and stands, just to give her something to do as she circles the sofa and leans against it.

“Pleasure is pleasure. Who should care where a man chooses to stick it? Or, perhaps, where a woman…” she falters. “Well, we don't have anything to stick, do we?” She should forget about it. “I simply wonder how…the deed is done without the…tool.” She decides she just likes to hear you speak.

“Well…” you still don't watch her, though you hesitate in the middle of your task, “I would not believe it to be as difficult as it would seem.” You take up a light blanket to fold.

She raises a brow. “Is that so?” She strokes the back of the couch with a ring-clad hand. “Tell me, how do you suppose it's done?”

“Princess?”

She shrugs in faux innocence. “I'm simply curious. Of course, if you have other duties to tend to.”

What she's proposing has no shortage of lack of propriety. It would be even worse if you responded. But…

Your gaze drifts down to her hand, a stray thought in your mind imagining the fabric was your flesh. When she squeezes lightly, you hate that you imagine her hands wrapping around your thigh…just to feel.

It is generally frowned upon to disobey your masters.

You swallow a lump in your throat, that you assume is nerves over want. It cannot be want.

“Well…if I had to guess, I would assume she could use,” you hesitate, “her hands.”

Rhaenyra doesn't have the thought to raise a curious brow. Her face doesn't change much as she stares at you, strangely hooded as you pass it on for confusion instead of what you recognize it to be.

“Just the same as a man could…” your words become a little quieter, “...or rather, as a man chooses not to, in my experience.”

Rhaenyra inches closer. It doesn't register. “How would she use them?” How could her voice be so smooth? It's like a layer of velvet on your skin, and you don't know how to manage that.

“Any way she saw fit.” You hadn't expected your voice to dip as it had, a richer tone influenced by the way she watches you. You hadn't realized the way your finger dipped between the fold of the blanket you've been holding for the last couple minutes. “You could just feel, massage, you could.. You could use them in place of a man's tool. Of course, they would not eject.”

Her chuckle is so shallow, with no real intent to emphasize humor. Her thoughts are confusing.

“No, I suppose not,” she mutters. She steps even closer, tilting her head. “Would her hands be all she would use?”

It's a strange thing, knowing more than the princess—informing the princess on what you know. She listens with such curiosity, such interest. You have to stifle the pull in your chest. It isn't proper. You shouldn't be telling her about any of this—it isn't proper.

But you carry on because you can't help it. Not when she looks at you like that.

You lick your bottom lip absently. “Well, if they were, my princess, what would be the point of the taste for sailors? Rather than simply the touch of them? Women often prefer a sailor’s salty taste. Some men have an indulgence for, not just the bee, but the honey, too.”

You hadn't realized you'd both gotten so close. She's only a few feet from you now, staring at you with eyes that should not be regarding you in such a way. “And if you had a taste for honey? How would you indulge?”

“Frequently.” Rhaenyra had not meant to gasp the way she did. It's soft and barely audible, but you catch it. It's hard to miss anything when she's so close, staring you in the eyes, running her fingers together with gentle brushes of skin.

You break the heavy eye contact with a glance down. “But I assume that would pose a challenge, as not many bees prefer their honey to be tasted by other bees, especially if not by a man.” You shake your head, looking back at her with a new kind of certainty. “No, many bees prefer the sailor and their sea.”

You hate the gods for making you as they did, but sometimes you hate them for making everyone else as they are instead. If you had to come out so wrong, why could no one else join you?

Rhaenyra can see this in your eyes. It's just a little glint, but she recognizes the same look in her husband from time to time. The difference is that he's allowed his indulgences in secret. You must have more trouble. Women always have more trouble…

Her breath is light when she breathes. “And what if one was willing to try?”

You look at her quickly, eyes wide and a little skeptical. “To try, Princess?”

“The indulging.” The step she takes is long. She stands right before you now, hardly a foot away. “Or even allowing one a taste of it? Say this…servant girl, perhaps?”

You squeeze your thighs together, though you don't mean to. She's a very intimidating person, and it makes you falter in your reasoning for why all of this is a terrible idea.

“I'd say…maybe she'd agree.” She's so close. If you took a step, leaned in just a bit…

“But there are many things to consider.” You step around her, ridding yourself of the closeness to put space between you. This is dangerous, she is dangerous. The way she looks at you, the way she makes you feel. It's not fair, and it's not right.

She spins around, dizzy from the sudden break in tension. “What sort of things?”

You drop the blanket on a chair and run your hands down your apron, an attempt to center yourself. “Things like…like whether or not this woman, potentially even a princess so interested in tasting, has a husband? A royal one, at that?” You shake your head. “This servant could be killed.”

Rhaenyra sighs, waving a hand as she looks upon your back. “If a person was killed every time they tried other indulgences, we would have very few people left in the world.”

You turn toward her, but make no move to come closer. “Even still.”

“What if this princess,” she closes the distance again, this time scooping your hands into her own. Her hands are very warm, much warmer than your own. They are only contrasted by the chill of golden rings. It's inviting as you try not to lean into her touch. You can't look at her. You're already breaking so many rules by letting her touch you. You're breaking rules by talking of such things with her.

“What if she were to tell the servant that her royal husband has his own tastes to favor? Not in bees, but in sailors?”

Royal husbands are a much different standard than lowly servants. But the only thing in your mind with such a proposal is, “And what if the princess dislikes the servant's work?”

You shudder when her warm palm envelopes your cheek. Your eyes flutter, and you look into her eyes. What a temptress she is, to look at you like that. To look so deeply into your eyes that you falter every time you come from a blink.

This is one of the only times when you're grateful for your sickness. If you had not been the way you were, her beauty would be so ordinary to you. She is anything but.

“Then she shall decide for herself.”

Your voice is so soft now, afraid to rupture this feeling between you. You feel manipulated, but you can't bring yourself to mind. If your roles had been reversed, you'd likely do the same.

“What if something happens?” You raise a hand to cover the back of hers. “If someone sees? There are many things to be considered.”

Her hand slips down from your cheek to grasp your chin between her forefinger and thumb. “If you wish not to continue, then you may yo. But it's as you said…” she's so close, you can feel her shallow breath on your lips, “this requires trust.”

Your eyes dart between her own, taking in every feature of her face. Gods, how beautiful is she?

She leans in, tilting her head in such a way that you become dizzy. “Will you put your trust in your princess?”

How could you refuse?

“Yes.”

“Then who's to say it's wrong?”

Your breaths mingle. She leans in quickly, and your breath hitches in anticipation of the kiss. Just as they barely brush, she pulls back again. It becomes this dance, a back-and-forth, push-and-pull. You know she's playing with you, and you invite her in full compliance. You would be her court jester if only she asked.

When she kisses you, it's maddening. Your thoughts are blurred in a swirling motion in your head. Your ears become fuzzy, your lungs already ache. You breathe her essence in through your nose and out through your mouth as she pulls you in by the back of your neck. She tastes of sweet wine, of grapes and blueberries.

Your hands grasp at her sides, pulling at the fabric wrapped securely around her body. “Princess,” you gasp against her lips.

You feel her lips curl against your own, her smirk fueling a fire between the both of you. “Shh,” she says between kisses. Her palms cup your face, her lidded eyes taking in the sight of you so close. “Just show me how you do it.”

You lean in to gather her lips again, your breaths heavy between you. You walk her back, pushing her up against the wall as your hands explore the length of her body. Your lips trail over her own, kissing the corner of her mouth and slipping down to her neck. Your teeth nip at her skin, your tongue laps, your lips suck. Her eyes flutter closed as she leans into it. Her hands grip your arms and beg you not to go.

You pull away from her then, your bodies still flush against one another as you take in the sight of her. Her eyes are of lavender, her skin is of ivory, her hair is of silkweed. She’s dripped in maroon and pearls. As you brush your knuckles down her cheek, smiling as you move to kiss her again.

There’s a soft smack of your lips as you pull away. Pinching her chin between your fingers as she had done yours, you whisper so closely to her lips that they brush with each word. “You are so beautiful, my princess.”

She stares at you. She had been called beautiful before. She has known intimacy and she has known passion, but there is something in the way that you speak to her that has her chest aching. A heavy breath puffs shallowly from her mouth.

Before she says anything, you kiss her again as your hand reaches down to collect fistfulls of fabric. You press a kiss to her collarbone, nipping lightly as her breath hitches. You slip to your knees, dipping your hands beneath her dress and pressing your hands to the thinly veiled skin of her legs. Her stockings stop just above her knee, tied neatly that morning while she was readying herself for the day.

She watches you, her eyes dark but so intently focused on you. You look up at her as you ride her dress, layer upon layer, up the length of her body. She reaches down and captures it, holding it in her hands and relieving you of the duty.

You’re holding your breath when you lean in to press a chaste kiss to the inside of her thigh. Her skin is so warm. If she had not been so soft, too, you would have wondered if she’d really been a dragon all along. You cup the back of her thigh in your hand, stroking up and down and enjoying the feeling of such smooth flesh.

You shift her leg over your shoulder, turning your head to kiss her thigh again. Her breath, although thick and shallow, is such a gentle thing. She never tears her gaze away. Her hips jerk lightly when your excitement manifests in little nips into her skin. There’s a pleasant feeling that stems from it.

“Must you tease?” Rhaenyra huffs, though not of any real offense. Her chest rises and falls like she’s ready to burst. A swell of pride blooms in your chest at the knowledge that she could be so aching for your touch.

“Apologies, Princess,” you smile, raising a tentative hand farther up the side of her thigh to bring her closer. You move so slowly as you inch toward her, this aching need which you have yet to see but can smell so dearly. “May I?” you whisper, so softly that you are almost unheard.

Her leg shifts to push her heel into your shoulder blade, not roughly but in a way to induce haste. She brings you just a bit closer, dipping her head. “You may.”

Just as soon as the permission leaves her throat, you attach yourself to her. You dip your tongue between her folds. You lick and suckle around her pearl. Arousal has already seeped from her need and is painting your tongue.

Rhaenyra’s hips cant forward, and there's a slight shudder. As one of her hands desperately grasps at her dress, the other reaches down to card through your hair.

You flick your tongue along the seam of her cunt. You really had chosen the right word—honey. She tastes sweet, a filling nectar you would die to feast upon.Rhaenyra is eager to feel it all, amazed by how wonderful you are at this, better than even Ser Criston Cole—who had always been very eager to taste her in her youth.

She supposes it shouldn’t be so surprising. You both have the same parts, it would only make sense that you knew how to use them. Your dull nails dig into her ass, bringing her forward as you both rock against one another. Her moan catches in her throat, and her hand reaches forcefully out to take hold of the table at her side. She grips it tight in order to keep herself up, looking down at you as her chest struggles to keep up with her lust.

“You are very eager to please,” her voice shakes.

You stroke your tongue along the length of her cunt, pressing a messy kiss into her pearl as you pull back just enough to speak. “That is not a difficult feat when you taste as good as you do.” A rough kind of whine slips when you suck around her pearl. “I was right about the honey.”

She smiles in the middle of the rock of her hips. “I might have to taste a sample myself. Just to check. Ah–!” Her hand flies out to take hold of your hair again, just to ground herself when you lap your tongue inside of her. “Right there,” she groans, her voice lower now with the coming of her relief. “Oh, gods, don’t stop.”

You focus on her pearl now, lapping and laving at it with all the strength you have left in your tongue. It’s a bit tired from the work, but it’s a good kind of feeling when you’re being rewarded so generously. The fat of her thigh is a welcomed weight on your shoulder, an even better weight in your hand as you stroke your hand up and down the length of it. You squeeze it in fervent desire.

You can feel her clenching against your tongue, her hips become more jerky with their movement. You hum into her, anticipating her release as much as she does. Her breath stalls in her chest as it builds and builds.

Right as she's at the cusp, you murmur against her pearl. “Breathe, Princess.”

Just as she takes a breath, a crashing wave rolls over her. She trembles against you, gasping as her head whirls with the weight of her release. You hold her steady, lapping up the precious taste of her cunt with a desperate need. She jerks forward when you suckle gently on her sensitive pearl.

When the rush dies down to something a little easier, her breaths become deeper as a drunken smile finds her lips. “I could certainly make this a habit.”

You press your mouth into her thigh, laying a sweet kiss upon her skin. “Tis likely to be a bad one.”

She shakes her head, moving her leg off your shoulder and lifting you to stand with a curled finger under your chin. “Nothing bad about it.” She leans in, her lips hovering.

You pull away by the slightest inch, watching her gentle eyes. “Did I do well, my princess?” You lift your hand to cautiously rest at her back, your fingers curling through silver locks. “Have I pleased you?”

There's something about you that makes her head spin. “Yes, darling,” she rasps. “You are magnificent.”

You smile like she's given you an incredible gift, accepting her kiss with a similar enthusiasm than you'd accepted the honey between her plush thighs. You're needy in gluing your lips to hers, wrapping your arms around her waist and pulling her against you by the small of her back.

She eases your mouth from hers, her breath short from the greatness of your desire. “You can call me Rhaenyra. I feel we've reached the point where such formalities are no longer necessary.”

You chuckle breathily. “Of course, Princess.”

She pinches your chin. “Go sit.” She lets go of you.

Just for the humor, you dip into a curtsy, looking up through your lashes as you do. “Yes, my princess.”

You turn and walk toward the sofa, sitting with your legs pressed together and your hands upon your lap. She watches you for a moment, doing nothing but watching. Your humor is dissipating as you look away, unable to take the heat of her gaze.

“Does it make you nervous when I stare, sweetling?” she asks gently.

You nod. “A bit, yes.”

She takes a step closer. “Do not be nervous. I won't hurt you.”

“I know.”

She moves toward you, and you peek up at her with eyes wide in anticipation. She comes to stand in front of you, standing tall in all her glory and regality. She's ethereal, especially with the way the golden light of the evening is peering in through the windows.

She bends down, her hands on either side of your head as she boxes you in. You lose your breath. You don't think you'll ever be able to stand her being this close to you.

She kisses you. “Spread your legs for me.” You're shy, but you do as she asks. Your thighs inch farther apart as you indulge in the taste of her lips. Her hand cups your throat. Your breath stalls, and then starts again to inhale more of her.

You feel her palm trail down the column of your neck, her fingers tickling your throat. She moves down your front before she's riding the skirt of your dress and apron up your legs. When her hand touches your bare thigh, your hips jerk slightly. She shushes against your lips, moving closer and closer until her hand is cupping the wet of your cunt.

“Gods, you're dripping.” You want to say something, but you can't. Her middle finger sinks between your lips, parting them to make way for her intrusion. You clamp down on her finger, your hips rolling against her hand already.

She strokes inside of you, curling her finger and coaxing you closer. When she adds the second, a slight hum slips from her throat. You reach out, grabbing a hold of her arm.

“A little deeper,” you guide gently, tilting your hips up. When she adjusts, your head spins. “Fuck, Princess, right there.”

She focuses there, hovering over you as she presses her lips to your forehead, to lips, the tip of your nose. “Do you like that?” she huffs.

You nod, holding her arm tighter. “Yes. Yes, my princess.”

She dips her head down to your neck, and you whimper when she nips at your flesh. “You'll have to guide me,” she whispers into your ear.

You're a bit confused as she removes her fingers from you. You stifle your whine, watching with bated breath as this princess, the heir to the Targaryen throne, kneels before you. Her handmaiden. A lowly servant who was meant to stay beneath her.

She eases your leg over your shoulder just as you had done before. She presses her mouth against your thigh, kissing it and licking her lips. She looks you in the eyes, smirking as she brings her fingers to her mouth. She dips them between her lips, and the sigh that parts your lips leaves you breathless. She hums deeply. “I can see why you called it honey.”

You chuckle lightly. When Rhaenyra’s lips wrap around your cunt, you whimper. You're careful in setting your hand at the side of her head, carding your fingers through her hair. You don't grasp her, you don't guide her. You just hold her as you watch her with hooded eyes and parted lips.

She sucks on your folds, flicking her hot tongue along the seam of your cunt and slipping it inside clumsily. Either way, it's nice. It's not often you get attention like this, and from a princess?

“Up a little more, princess.” Your voice is light and high with pleasure. When she does as you say, your sigh is tinted with a whine. “Good. Right there.”

She suckles lightly at your pearl, licking and tasting with a curious intent. Her fingers prod at your pussy again, and you arch your back when she presses two inside.

Rhaenyra is a quick learner. Her pace is steady as she curls her fingers, coaxing them in and out of you with an eagerness that you had displayed before. Her lips and tongue work at your pearl, licking and sucking and making you feel like you'll burst any second.

“Please, don't stop,” you gasp. “You're amazing.”

There's a certain power in having someone desire you, blubbering with pleasure and begging for more. It goes straight to her head. She thrusts her fingers into you as though she wielded her own cock, she laps at your slick like she's been deprived of water for far too long. She huffs and groans, drunk on the taste of you, on the pleasure.

You've never met a woman so eager to please another. When they're not shy about indulging in something so forbidden, they're too used to professionalism to initiate intimacy. Having this kind of desire is hard and it's depriving. If Rhaenyra keeps this up, you'll make the mistake of falling utterly in love with her.

You bite your lip, trying to keep quiet to keep from alerting the knight at the door. The walls are thick, no one should hear you.

“I'm so close,” you whisper, rolling your hips in your haste to come. “Please, my princess, don't stop.”

When she hums, it comes with a desperate sort of sound. Your thighs tremble around her head, trying not to close her in. You become dizzy, your head spins with the weight of her pleasure. Your eyes squeeze shut and–

“Princess,” you bring a hand to your mouth, breathing heavily into your palm. Your hips roll and your mind whirls with the sensations of her lips sucking on your pulsing pearl, spurring you on and on. Her finger curls against a deep spot within you that has you seeing stars behind your eyes. “Fuck, Rhaenyra,” you curse, whimpering under your breath and losing composure.

Her hand slips out of you just to grasp your backside, pulling you in and devouring you as you continue to become slick with arousal. Her nose presses into your pearl when her tongue is too busy at your folds. Her warm breath fans over your skin in such a delicious way.

When your trembling has subsided, she eases away from you with a huff. She's got a drunken smile on her lips, her pupils blown wide and your eyes dark with pleasure. “I see why you enjoy that so much.”

You smile, catching your breath as she breaks away from you to crowd your space once more. Your tongue is heavy, and your words are sticky. You look at her like you'll be shattered if you don't hear what you want to hear. “Did I do well, my princess?”

She smiles, raising a hand to stroke your cheek with gentle knuckles. “You are perfect.” The look on your face is devastating. There's a bursting joy in your eyes, a kind of joy that only comes when it's been met with a considerable amount of sorrow.

She tilts your chin up, embracing you in a different kind of kiss. This one is all for you. She kisses you like she wants you to know something that she doesn't know how to say aloud, like she's telling you a secret that only you could ever understand.

She pulls away, still cupping your cheek. You swallow thickly, watching her and taking in every little feature of her face before you're forced to keep your head down once more.

“Will you regret it?” Your voice is so small that she almost misses it. If her nose had not still been brushing yours, she would have. “When I leave, and you've had the night to contemplate… will you regret letting me touch you? Will you regret…touching me?”

She wonders briefly who hurt you. You are such a good woman. You are loyal and eager to please. Not to mention, you are utterly beautiful.

She doesn't know quite how to navigate this. So instead, she sighs as she looks upon your face. Worry and doubt creases every little feature that lies there. She presses a kiss to your forehead, over the crease between your brows.

“No, sweet girl.”

You blink, taking her answer for what it is as you smile. “Okay,” you whisper.

She leans in to kiss you. There's a knock on the door.

Rhaenyra sighs, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips and straightening her back. “A moment.” She holds a hand for you, and you take it as she brings you to stand.

“Finish your work…” She pauses. “Will I see you again soon?”

You smile, nodding gently. “If my princess commands it.”

Her smirk soon follows. “She does.” She knows she's taking too long. “Goodbye, my darling.”

You nod. “Goodbye, my princess.”

You linger too long. You are wasting time. You break away from her, grabbing your tray of dishes, stacking her cold tea on top. When she's sure you're both decent, she sighs.

“Come.”

As the door opens, you give a curtsy. “Princess.”

She nods, but it's such a small movement that you'd question if she'd already forgotten you if you knew she wasn't doing it for appearances.

As you walk down the hall, you glance up when you see Ser Laenor walking toward you. You look up at him, pausing to curtsy.

He looks at you, giving you a smile that makes you nervous as he fully stops. You think you hear him sniff, and then his smile grows into something more mischievous. With a quiet chuckle, he wags his finger at you before turning on his heel to continue to—you assume to be—Rhaenyra’s chambers.

You continue walking, slowly this time as you try to figure out why he would react in such a way. You guide your nose toward your shoulder and almost freeze in place.

Gods be good… You smell like her.

Ice and Fire taglist: @divinearchangel @alexxavicry @katsukis1wife @kmc1989 @the-nerdy-goddess @urmomsgirlfriend1 @ireallydontcareanymorebrooo @lover-of-books-and-tea @avalyaaa @rozendiors @seabasscevans @hc-geralt-23 Tag yourself here...

#rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #rhaenyra targaryen smut #rhaenyra targaryen x reader smut #reader insert #female reader #song of ice and fire #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfiction #rhaenyra targaryen fanfiction #kinktober

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wonwayne · 11 months ago

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enha when you pass out on their shoulder ☁️

pairing : ot7 x gn!reader genre : pure fluff warnings : none! word count : 0.75k

a/n : because you’re irresponsible like that ;) no but in all seriousness ‘passing out’ here just refers to falling asleep, not the medical condition 👍

💭 heeseung

just loves the sensations of you

your warm breath, faint on his chest; your hair spreading across his sweater; your fingers subconsciously playing and tugging at the sleeve

does it melt him? yes, it melts him

it melts him so much that he can’t sit straight anymore, he has to surrender to gravity and cuddle with you

slightly surprised when you don’t stir; he’s like “oh they’re knocked out” and decides to bridal carry you to the bed so you can stay comfy for the night

tucks you in and everything, he is father™ material methinks

💭 jay

drapes his jacket/blanket over you so fast

and so effortlessly

gentility is second nature for this man he is a GENTLEMAN

could stay perfectly still forever if that meant good sleep for you

and does exactly that the entire night, literally falls asleep in that position he loves you that much

then wakes up the next morning and nags you incessantly

“you are going to massage my shoulder for the next full hour.” “why :(“ “because i sacrificed the imminent comfort of my bed to be your pillow for 9 hours.”

maybe he’s dramatic but he’s right !!

💭 jake

mm. would rather have you sitting in his lap but this will do.

does the thing where he shifts his body towards you a bit and plants a billion kisses on the top of your head

you better be dreaming of him

eventually gives up on offering his shoulder, just hugs you

talks to you even if you’re unresponsive, partly bc he’d be lonely otherwise

but mostly bc he thinks it’s the perfect time to confess (as if he doesn’t confess to you through all of your waking hours)

“y/n you are so so beautiful” “i would give up the world for you”

is it possible to blush in your sleep?? bc jake would make it happen

💭 sunghoon

is so so smug about it

like “yes. see how their head fits perfectly into the crook of my neck. (it’s not a question.) soulmates indeed.”

HEAD PATS

just strokes your hair softly and he’s so nonchalant about it

if you weren’t already dozing his pets are so soothing they leave you in a SLUMBER

might even whisper cheesy little things knowing that you won’t remember them

“my princess 🥰” “my snuggle bear 😁”

okay i’ll shut up

💭 sunoo

it starts with a side eye (when does it not)

somewhere between concern and shock, he’s all like “this is not typical y/n behavior this is not the y/n i know this is not my y/n why are they not alive hold up—”

does the two fingers under your nose thing to check if you’re breathing

you are, of course, and then he’s just like well 😶 clingy y/n era. guess i’ll have to get used to this.

makes a point to rest his head on yours “this will be a symbiotic relationship not a parasitic one”

if you end up waking up and for witty banter’s sake the first thing you say is “your head was heavy 😒”

oh you are setting yourself UP there

“baby your existence weighs down on me /lh”

💭 jungwon

insert surprised cat face

tends to be the one snuggling into you so this throws him off a little, but in the best possible way

makes it his temporary life goal not to move

nearly an hour in, his neck is begging to be cracked

he hadn’t even noticed how stiff he’d become, he was watching you so intently

he’s thinking about holding out as long as he can but then he’s like “you are not a child you can find yourself a bed to sleep on”

still wakes you up sooo carefully, and when he realizes you’re too groggy to move, he lets you snooze on his lap instead

the way you and only you can break his resolve UGH where is my jungwon fr

💭 niki

absolutely EXHAUSTS your phone storage with 127000 photos of you

none of them are flattering, trust me

“it’s like a polaroid love” um more like polaroid done dirty

drool starting to escape your lips? 🤨📸

cheek squishing into his shoulder and you look like a fish? 📸🤭

adores you through it all of course

i do think he’s less the type to whisper sweet nothings while you’re asleep, but only bc he’d rather see your flustered reaction and make fun of it

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luludeluluramblings · 3 months ago

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Ideas/Concepts for Yandere!BatFamily

A/N: Just getting these out of my head. Might expand on them later.

A/N: All these use Smalltown!Reader as a base. Imma about to put them through hell. Tehehe.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Multiverse Reader - GN!Reader

In this version, Reader isn't a meta, Smalltown isn't completely yandere for them, and the family reacts a lot more violently to Reader's arrival. Harshly hazing or blatantly ignoring. Literally ruining Reader's life when they come to Gotham through the media and cruel pranks. Causing Reader to break much soon then in the current timeline.

Only when Reader hits their breaking point, they get transported to an universe where they never existed and the Bat Family there immediately takes them in. Giving Reader a few years of loving respite before their sent back to their original universe. When Reader comes back they find out the Family went full yandere for them while they were gone and now Reader has to deal with them again. But, now the family has to deal with a Reader who loves and misses different versions of them.

Excerpt

Idea

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Vigilante Reader - Fem!Reader

This reader doesn't have Smalltown going yandere for them, nor are they biological related to the family. But, they're still a Meta. This also doesn't have any neglect, just a greedy uncle. Nana and Daddy have origins in Gotham, with Daddy having left the city behind to raise his family in peace in Smalltown.

Reader runs into Harley after struggling to cope with living in Gotham and dealing with family issues. Harley recruits them into joining the Gotham Siren's and thus begins Reader's nighttime escapades of witty banter and flirting with the local Bats. (Or Birdies, in this case.) And, the Birdies falling into obsession the more Reader evades them and taunts them.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

The Wedding Planner

Gn!Neglected!Reader that finds the Bats trying to force themselves back into their life when they end up trying to plan Bruce and Selina's wedding.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Influencer Reader

GN!Reader with unintentional neglect.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Your daughter calls me daddy, too.

Female!Negected!Reader that marries an older man and gets pregnant.

Tony Stark as Older!Husband - Fluffy

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

#yandere batfam #yandere batfamily #batfam x reader #batfamily x reader #platonic batfam #yandere dc #smalltown!reader #yandere batfam x reader #yandere batfamily x reader #vigilante!smalltown!reader #Weddingplanner!Reader #influencer!reader #multiverse!reader #sugar baby!reader #pregnant!reader

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luckshmi · 4 months ago

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Venus Sign & Your Love Languages

Each Venus sign has a distinct way of loving and being loved, influenced by the intricate dance of the stars. Let's explore the characteristics of Venus in each sign, uncover the specific love languages that resonate with them, and bring it all to life with examples from our favorite Bollywood movies.

Venus in Aries

Characteristics: Venus in Aries brings a bold, enthusiastic, and adventurous approach to love. You’re spontaneous and love the thrill of the chase. Quick to fall in love, you dive headfirst into relationships with fiery passion. Your independent spirit craves excitement and constant stimulation, often preferring partners who are equally adventurous and energetic.

Love Languages:

Acts of Service: Your love is expressed through action. You might surprise your partner with spontaneous adventures, take charge of planning dates, or tackle their to-do list without being asked.

Words of Affirmation: You’re generous with compliments and words of encouragement, loving to boost your partner's confidence and express your admiration vocally.

Movie: Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge (1995)

Character: Raj Malhotra (played by Shah Rukh Khan)

Raj is a quintessential Venus in Aries character—bold, adventurous, and full of enthusiasm. He loves the thrill of the chase and is not afraid to take risks for love. His spontaneous and energetic nature makes him a captivating and dynamic lover.

He expresses his love through grand gestures and bold declarations. He pursues Simran with unwavering determination, willing to challenge societal norms and traditions to be with her. His passionate and fearless approach to love is evident throughout the movie.

His adventurous spirit is showcased when he embarks on a journey across Europe with Simran, creating spontaneous and memorable moments. His boldness shines when he confronts Simran’s strict father, proving his love and commitment through action.

Tujhe Dekha Toh

Venus in Taurus

Characteristics: Venus in Taurus is all about stability, comfort, and sensual pleasures. You seek long-term relationships built on trust and loyalty. You appreciate the finer things in life and enjoy sharing these pleasures with your partner. Your love is steady, patient, and deeply rooted in a desire for security and physical affection.

Love Languages:

Physical Touch: Sensuality is key for you. You thrive on physical closeness, whether it's holding hands, cuddling, or other forms of affectionate touch.

Receiving Gifts: Thoughtful and meaningful gifts are your way of showing love. You appreciate the effort behind a well-chosen present, valuing both the gift and the sentiment.

Movie: Kabhi Alvida Naa Kehna (2006)

Character: Maya Talwar (played by Rani Mukerji)

Maya embodies the stability and sensuality of Venus in Taurus. She seeks a deep, lasting connection built on trust and loyalty. Her love is steady, patient, and rooted in a desire for security and comfort.

She expresses her love through acts of care and nurturing. She values physical closeness and is deeply committed to creating a comfortable and loving environment for her partner. Her love is expressed through practical and thoughtful actions rather than grand gestures.

Her journey of seeking emotional fulfillment and stability is central to the movie. Her relationship with Dev (played by Shah Rukh Khan) reflects her need for a secure and comforting connection, even as they navigate the complexities of their emotions.

Tumhi Dekho Naa

Venus in Gemini

Characteristics: With Venus in Gemini, love is an intellectual and playful affair. You’re charming, witty, and always up for a stimulating conversation. Variety and mental stimulation are essential in your relationships. You’re drawn to partners who can engage you with their intelligence and keep things lively and interesting.

Love Languages:

Words of Affirmation: Communication is crucial for you. You express love through engaging conversations, playful banter, and thoughtful compliments.

Quality Time: You value time spent exploring new ideas and activities together, enjoying the mental stimulation and shared experiences.

Movie: Yeh Jawaani Hai Deewani (2013)

Character: Kabir “Bunny” Thapar (played by Ranbir Kapoor)

Bunny is a true representation of Venus in Gemini—charming, witty, and intellectually stimulating. He loves engaging in meaningful conversations and is always seeking new experiences and adventures.

He expresses his love through playful banter and engaging conversations. He values intellectual connection and seeks partners who can keep up with his lively and curious nature. His love is vibrant and ever-changing, mirroring his need for variety and mental stimulation.

His adventurous spirit and love for exploration are evident throughout the movie. His relationship with Naina (played by Deepika Padukone) blossoms through shared experiences and deep conversations, highlighting his need for intellectual and emotional engagement.

Badtameez Dil

Venus in Cancer

Characteristics: Venus in Cancer seeks emotional depth and security in love. You’re nurturing, empathetic, and highly intuitive. You crave a partner who can provide a safe and comforting environment. Your relationships are often deeply emotional, and you’re very protective of your loved ones.

Love Languages:

Acts of Service: You show love by taking care of your partner’s needs, whether it's through cooking their favorite meal or offering a listening ear.

Quality Time: You value intimate, cozy moments spent together, cherishing the emotional connection and sense of security they bring.

Movie: Kal Ho Naa Ho (2003)

Character: Naina Catherine Kapur (played by Preity Zinta)

Naina exemplifies the nurturing and empathetic qualities of Venus in Cancer. She seeks emotional depth and security in her relationships, valuing a safe and comforting environment.

She expresses her love through acts of care and emotional support. She is deeply intuitive and protective of her loved ones, always prioritizing their well-being. Her love is tender, nurturing, and deeply emotional.

Her journey of finding love and emotional fulfillment is central to the movie. Her relationship with Aman (played by Shah Rukh Khan) and Rohit (played by Saif Ali Khan) highlights her need for emotional security and deep connections.

Kal Ho Naa Ho

Venus in Leo

Characteristics: Venus in Leo is dramatic, generous, and loves to be the center of attention. You crave admiration and affection and are highly expressive in your romantic gestures. Your love is passionate and full of grandeur, always seeking to make your partner feel special and adored.

Love Languages:

Words of Affirmation: Compliments and verbal expressions of love are essential. You thrive on praise and love to make your partner feel equally admired.

Receiving Gifts: You enjoy giving and receiving extravagant gifts that show thoughtfulness and flair.

Movie: Om Shanti Om (2007)

Character: Om Prakash Makhija (played by Shah Rukh Khan)

Om is the epitome of Venus in Leo—dramatic, generous, and craving admiration. He is highly expressive in his romantic gestures, seeking to make his partner feel special and adored.

He expresses his love through grand, theatrical gestures and passionate declarations. He loves to shower his partner with attention and affection, making them feel like the center of his universe. His love is bold, vibrant, and full of flair.

His passionate pursuit of Shanti (played by Deepika Padukone) and his dramatic gestures to win her love are central to the movie. His larger-than-life approach to love reflects his desire to be admired and adored and to do the same for his partner.

Dhoom Taana

Venus in Virgo

Characteristics: With Venus in Virgo, love is practical, meticulous, and attentive to detail. You show your affection through acts of service and a genuine concern for your partner’s well-being. You value honesty and reliability in relationships, often preferring to demonstrate your love through practical means rather than grand gestures.

Love Languages:

Acts of Service: You express love by taking care of the little things, whether it’s helping with chores or providing practical support.

Quality Time: You cherish simple, meaningful moments spent together, often focusing on the quality of interaction rather than the quantity.

Movie: Hasee Toh Phasee (2014)

Character: Meeta Solanki (played by Parineeti Chopra)

Meeta represents the practical, meticulous, and attentive qualities of Venus in Virgo. She shows her affection through acts of service and genuine concern for her partner’s well-being.

She expresses her love through practical support and thoughtful actions. She is attentive to the details and prioritizes her partner’s needs, often showing her love in subtle but meaningful ways. Her love is grounded, reliable, and deeply caring.

Her thoughtful and caring actions towards Nikhil (played by Sidharth Malhotra) highlight her Venus in Virgo nature. Her practical and reliable approach to love is evident throughout the movie, reflecting her desire to support and care for her partner.

Zehnaseeb

Venus in Libra

Characteristics: Venus in Libra seeks harmony, balance, and beauty in love. You’re charming, diplomatic, and deeply value equality in your relationships. You appreciate aesthetics and strive to create a loving, peaceful environment. Your romantic ideals are high, and you enjoy partnerships that are both fair and mutually enriching.

Love Languages:

Quality Time: Spending time in beautiful, harmonious settings is crucial for you. You enjoy creating and sharing aesthetically pleasing experiences.

Words of Affirmation: Verbal expressions of appreciation and admiration are key. You thrive on giving and receiving compliments that affirm your mutual respect and love.

Movie: Jab We Met (2007)

Character: Aditya Kashyap (played by Shahid Kapoor)

Aditya embodies the charming, diplomatic, and harmonious qualities of Venus in Libra. He values balance and beauty in his relationships, seeking partnerships that are fair and mutually enriching.

He expresses his love through thoughtful gestures and verbal expressions of appreciation. He values harmony and strives to create a loving, peaceful environment for his partner. His love is balanced, elegant, and focused on mutual respect and admiration.

His relationship with Geet (played by Kareena Kapoor) highlights his Venus in Libra nature. His thoughtful and supportive actions towards her reflect his desire for harmony and balance, showcasing his diplomatic and charming approach to love.

Tum Se Hi

Venus in Scorpio

Characteristics: Venus in Scorpio brings an intense, passionate, and transformative approach to love. You crave deep emotional connections and are not afraid to delve into the complexities of your relationships. Loyalty and honesty are paramount, and you seek a partner who can match your emotional depth and intensity.

Love Languages:

Physical Touch: Intimacy and physical closeness are essential. You express love through passionate, meaningful touch.

Quality Time: Deep, meaningful interactions and spending time understanding each other’s innermost thoughts and feelings are vital

Movie: Raees (2017)

Character: Raees Alam (played by Shah Rukh Khan)

Raees Alam embodies the intense, passionate, and magnetic qualities of Venus in Scorpio. He is driven by a deep emotional core and possesses a powerful presence that draws others in. His love is transformative and he seeks profound connections that touch the soul.

He expresses his love through unwavering loyalty and deep emotional commitment. He is protective and fiercely dedicated to his loved ones, willing to go to great lengths to ensure their safety and happiness. His love is marked by intense devotion and an all-or-nothing attitude.

His relationship with Aasiya (played by Mahira Khan) highlights his Venus in Scorpio nature. His deep and passionate love for her is evident in his protective and committed actions. The movie portrays his willingness to fight against all odds to keep his loved ones safe, reflecting his intense and unwavering dedication. His love is not just about affection but also about profound emotional bonds and transformative experiences.

Zaalima

Venus in Sagittarius

Characteristics: When Venus is in Sagittarius, love is an adventure filled with optimism and exploration. You’re freedom-loving and enthusiastic, always seeking new experiences with your partner. Honesty and a shared sense of adventure are crucial for your relationships. You’re drawn to partners who are as adventurous and open-minded as you are.

Love Languages:

Quality Time: Exploring new places and experiencing new things together is your ideal way of bonding.

Words of Affirmation: You express love through positive, uplifting communication and love to share your enthusiasm with your partner.

Movie: Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara (2011)

Character: Arjun Saluja (played by Hrithik Roshan)

Arjun represents the adventurous, optimistic, and freedom-loving qualities of Venus in Sagittarius. He seeks new experiences and values honesty and intellectual connection in his relationships.

He expresses his love through adventurous activities and positive, uplifting communication. He values intellectual engagement and is drawn to partners who share his love for exploration and open-mindedness. His love is free-spirited, enthusiastic, and always seeking growth.

His adventurous spirit and evolving relationship with Laila (played by Katrina Kaif) highlight his Venus in Sagittarius nature. Their shared experiences and mutual respect for each other’s independence reflect his desire for an open and intellectually stimulating relationship.

Ik Junoon (Paint It Red)

Venus in Capricorn

Characteristics: Venus in Capricorn values discipline, responsibility, and long-term commitment in love. You’re practical and reliable, often expressing your love through loyalty and practical support. Your approach to relationships is serious and grounded, seeking partners who share your values and work ethic.

Love Languages:

Acts of Service: You show love by being dependable and supportive, always there to help with practical matters.

Receiving Gifts: You appreciate thoughtful, meaningful gifts that reflect your partner’s understanding of your values and tastes.

Movie: Dil Dhadakne Do (2015)

Character: Kabir Mehra (played by Ranveer Singh) Kabir embodies the disciplined, responsible, and long-term-oriented qualities of Venus in Capricorn. He values stability and commitment in his relationships, often expressing his love through loyalty and practical support.

He expresses his love through acts of service and dependable support. He is reliable and values thoughtful, meaningful gestures that reflect his commitment. His love is serious, grounded, and focused on long-term stability.

His relationship with Farah (played by Anushka Sharma) showcases his Venus in Capricorn nature. His dependable and supportive actions reflect his desire for a stable and committed relationship, highlighting his practical and responsible approach to love.

Pehli Baar

Venus in Aquarius

Characteristics: Venus in Aquarius brings an unconventional, intellectual, and progressive approach to love. You value independence and are attracted to partners who share your unique perspective and open-mindedness. Your relationships often defy traditional norms, focusing on intellectual connection and mutual respect for individuality.

Love Languages:

Words of Affirmation: You express love through intellectual conversations and unique expressions of affection.

Quality Time: Engaging in unconventional and exciting activities together is key to your connection.

Movie: Dil Chahta Hai (2001)

Character: Aakash Malhotra (played by Aamir Khan)

Aakash represents the unconventional, intellectual, and progressive qualities of Venus in Aquarius. He values independence and is attracted to partners who share his unique perspective and open-mindedness.

He expresses his love through intellectual conversations and unique expressions of affection. He values freedom and individuality in his relationships, often seeking unconventional and exciting activities to bond with his partner. His love is innovative, free-spirited, and focused on mutual respect for individuality.

His relationship with Shalini (played by Preity Zinta) highlights his Venus in Aquarius nature. Their intellectual connection and shared unconventional experiences reflect his desire for a unique and stimulating relationship, showcasing his progressive and open-minded approach to love.

Jaane Kyun Log

Venus in Pisces

Characteristics: With Venus in Pisces, love is dreamy, compassionate, and deeply emotional. You’re intuitive and romantic, often seeking a spiritual connection with your partner. Your relationships are characterized by empathy, sensitivity, and a desire for a soulful bond that transcends the mundane.

Love Languages:

Quality Time: You value intimate, dreamy moments spent together, often focusing on the emotional and spiritual connection.

Physical Touch: Gentle, affectionate touch is essential for you to feel connected and loved.

Movie: Tamasha (2015)

Character: Ved Vardhan Sahni (played by Ranbir Kapoor)

Ved embodies the dreamy, compassionate, and deeply emotional qualities of Venus in Pisces. He seeks a spiritual and soulful connection in his relationships, often expressing his love through empathy and creativity.

He expresses his love through artistic and emotional gestures. He values deep emotional connections and is drawn to partners who share his sensitivity and compassion. His love is dreamy, romantic, and deeply empathetic.

His relationship with Tara (played by Deepika Padukone) highlights his Venus in Pisces nature. Their soulful and emotional connection, along with Ved’s creative and artistic expressions of love, reflect his desire for a deep and spiritual bond, showcasing his dreamy and compassionate approach to love.

Agar Tum Saath Ho

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