#i am witnessing something I shouldn’t | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hiraethwrote · 4 months ago

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heyy can you write some headcannons on Megumi having a crush and how would he act towards her? I can’t really picture him confessing honestly. thank you so much

cw: f!reader, aged up characters, profanity, alcohol, fluff, some hostile behaviour, misunderstandings word count: 2.2k a/n this was supposed to be like a short drabble but i am unable to do that lol (no tags)

Megumi doesn’t have a lot of experience when it comes to having a crush, because no one has managed to catch his eye. Therefore, the realisation that he might have a crush on you comes sneaking up on him. It’s not until he becomes aware that you infiltrate his mind during the most casual moments that it hits him.

He could just be running errands, and he could hear a song playing from a random clothing store he’s walking past and think this would definitely be a song you’d listen to. Or when he witnesses something funny and has to remember to tell you.

When it dawns on him, the first feeling that strikes him is guilt. He can’t help but feel a little sleazy, like he’s become one of those annoying guys who always whine about being stuck in the friend zone — that he is somehow breaking your trust by how he feels about you. So he tries to tell himself that it’s not serious, only silly infatuation because you’re pretty. Nothing more.

Turns out he couldn’t be more wrong, because you continue to plague his mind, the feelings only growing stronger. And with that frustrating new development, there’s a clear shift in your relation — not necessarily for the better. He’ll grow colder and harsher, his tone carrying a hostile weight it didn’t have before.

“Megumi,” you chuckled, “don’t be so proud. It would be easier to just take two trips than try to carry everything at once.“ There was playfulness to your tone that was nothing but kind, indicating that the atmosphere shouldn’t be anything but pleasant. “Yeah, I heard you the first time,” he grumbled in response, stubbornly turning his back to you before he continued as if you’d never said anything at all. You blinked at him a few times in utter disbelief at the unfamiliar edge to his words, waiting for him to face you again to ease the jab with a shy smile. “Oh, sorry,” you muttered carefully when he never met your gaze again. You took the hint, turning on your heel and leaving him alone. Whatever had gotten into him, he clearly didn’t want you around, and you weren’t going to hang around if he was on going to fire tiny comments at you. He shot you a modest look over his shoulder, mentally kicking himself over talking to you that way, and karma would come and bite him soon enough. With a deep sigh, he lifted all the bags, like he had insisted on doing, only to carry them a few feet before the first bag tore, spilling all the items around him. “Fuck.”

Megumi had hoped that putting that (unnatural) distance between the two of you would cause his feelings to disappear, but that quickly proved not to be the case.

After a month of minimal contact, where you only ever interact when you’re hanging out with the entire group, he finds himself missing you. It just wasn’t right not to share those stares whenever someone said something ridiculous, or immediately turn to you when he needed someone else’s opinion.

He decides he wants to ease his way back into your good graces — but he’s a little too embarrassed to straight out apologise for the way he’s been treating you. So he starts off by tuning down his frown towards you when hanging out the whole group.

“Okay, guys, next one- guys, attention over here!” Nobara’s strict voice cut through the crowd, causing the chatter to calm down enough for her to ask the next question. “Who’s most likely to forget to text back?” Without hesitation, Yuji slung the ping pong ball to Megumi, who caught it with one hand — expecting it to come flying in his direction. “Drink up, Fushiguro!” “You know, it’s not that I forget. I just choose not to answer you,” Megumi mocked him before taking a swig of his drink. He couldn’t care less about the offended sounds that stuttered out of Yuji, because he was too hung up on how he had managed to draw the sweet sound of your chuckle from your lips. “Okay, Fushiguro. Who is most likely to make you smile? I’m surprised if there’s anyone that can make you smile,” Nobara snickered, biting the edge of her plastic cup. He rolled his eyes at her comment before swiftly throwing the ball confidently in your direction, causing you to jump a little as it lands in your lap. Your eyes found his immediately, lips parted in surprise. He drew his lips into an awkward line, heat rushing to his cheeks when you tilted your head at him, hiding the warm smile he caused behind your cup as you took a sip.

After that, things go back to normal — well, somewhat normal. You definitely go back to how your friendship used to be before the small hiccup. Megumi, however, has a hard time keeping his cool around you.

The whole ordeal has him easily irritated. Though after you’re little ‘break’, he makes sure never to take it out on you, but that doesn’t mean you don’t witness it. He didn’t have to struggle with something for long before a string of curses escapes him, before he inevitably gives up on whatever task is at hand — only for you to pick it up instead and immediately fix it.

He hates how you disturb every aspect of his life. Before you, he could lay down in his bed and fall asleep the second he closed his eyes. Now… he’d toss and turn into the lonely hours of the night.

During the day, he has (what he thinks is) a very pathetic need to be close to you whenever he has the chance. He tries to play it off as casually as possible, leaving the room when you do because “he needs to stretch his legs” or coming with you to the store even though he doesn’t need anything because “he could do with some fresh air”. Your presence is just comfortable to him, and he wants to wallow in it as much as possible.

Things and gestures he never really thought twice about before, suddenly has his mind raze a million miles an hour. Small things, like when you wanted to show him a funny video and as you hand him your phone, his entire body would feel like it was on fire when your fingers grazed his so gently. Or when you noticed a strand of hair on his shirt, you would simply reach out and remove it, and he instantly became insanely aware of himself.

“All I’m saying, is if Yuji really wanted to, he would just set his alarm-“ Time suddenly moved in slow motion, eyes following your every move as you simply leaned forward, two fingers delicately pinching the stray hair that had landed on his shoulder before rubbing your fingers together to let it fall to the floor. Were you crazy? Why would you do that to him? His breathing picked up its pace, as he now could physically feel every fibre and atom in his body. And now nothing about the way he sat or moved his arms felt natural, entirely convinced you would be able to see right through him. “Hey, Megumi!” Your voice finally snapped him back to the moment, staring at you with big eyes as you were sporting a rather confused expression. “Hmm?” “Did you lose your train of thought or something? You suddenly just stopped talking,” you chuckled. “Uhm, yeah, sorry. Where was I,” he said, shaking his head, trying desperately not to think about how you had taken such an innocent act and made it feel so incredibly intimate.

You do pick up on the change in his behaviour. He isn’t as subtle as he thinks when he purposely lingers around you after everyone has left. And whenever the group does something together, he makes sure to take the seat next to you.

Had it been anyone other than Megumi, you would never have thought twice about the behaviour — but when Megumi, who had always preferred to just keep to himself, suddenly seeks the company of another person, of course one raises an eyebrow in speculation.

You don’t want to assume anything, though. He could just feel bad for how he treated you and this was his way of apologising without saying the words. Nonetheless, you did not mind it at all.

Megumi has no plans on confessing whatsoever. He tries to convince himself he is perfectly content with living in the agony of admiring from your side, even though he’s slowly dying as the feelings just keep growing for every time he watches you smile.

“You know he likes you, right?” Nobara stated confidently as she licked her ice cream. You huffed a laugh, turning to look at her with your eyebrows pinched together. “Yeah, okay.” “Come on! You’re lying if you haven’t noticed.” “There’s nothing to notice, Nobara. He just feels bad for our little falling out,” you sighed as you turned to look at him and Yuji again. Much to Megumi’s dismay, Yuji had forced him on his feet to help him with setting up the chairs and table for the small get together he had arranged that evening. From afar it only seemed like Megumi was scolding Yuji for messing up the chairs again, very clearly frustrated by his inability to perform what was supposed to be an easy task. You felt Nobara’s inquisitive squint drill into your side. “You’re so full of shit.” You spun your head to scowl at her, offence written all over your features. “Well, he’s never going to come clean so you’re going to have to take the lead there.” She earned herself a weak kick to the heel before you shifted your attention to the two boys again, who seemed to be unbelievably lost. After a few seconds, Megumi turned towards you, instantly locking eyes with you. His lips turned upwards in a sweet smile as his hand raised in a small wave.

Megumi will continue to stay close to you, endlessly embarrassed every time you have his voice hitch in his throat because you’re just to breathtaking when doing… anything really.

After Nobara was the first person to breathe life into the idea of his crush on you out loud, it suddenly seemed like that was the reason behind everything he did. You couldn’t hide behind the suspicion that he felt guilty anymore, because it had gone on for too long.

Once you see it, how devoted he seems to be to you in the most mundane aspects of your life, you quickly realise that the feeling is mutual. There’s something about being the one person to melt the heart of the most stoic person you know. How he who always parades around with a grumpy expression, avoiding other people, chooses to basically follow you around with just the tiniest smile dancing at the corner of his lips at all times.

“You can have it,” Megumi said, sliding the plate with the last slice of pizza directly in front of you. “What?” “I said you can have it,” a slightly teasing lilt to his voice. You only stared at him with big eyes before your eyebrows narrowed. “You always claim the last slice.” He simply shrugged. “‘M not hungry.” You leaned back in your seat, crossing your arms over your chest and you simply stared at him, trying to uncover whatever was running through his mind. His face slowly turned the faintest shade of red before he finally managed to avert his gaze. “Time to spit it out, Fushiguro,” you demanded. “Since when do you use my last na-“ “Don’t try and change the subject.” Your sudden strict tone had him swallow the lump in his throat. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he whispered coyly, fingers toying with the unused fork in front of him. “Do you like me?” The blunt confession had his heart beat against his chest with the force of a thousand suns, pounding so loud it filled his ears, eyes drawn to yours again. “Of course, we’re friends-“ the sentence died in his throat at the fierce scowl you gifted him, head tilted forward in annoyance. “Yes.” The creased evidence of previous frustration relaxed as the innocent word spilled from his lips, shoulders slumping in a new sensation of peace. On the other side of the table, Megumi sat with the most intense stress he could ever remember feeling, only reinforced by how calm and quiet you became. “Huh,” you said lightheartedly. “Why didn’t you just say so?” It was his turn to furrow his eyebrows, surprised by the casual tone in your voice. “I like you too, dumbass.” “Oh,” he blinked. His heart slowly started to calm down to try and ground himself in order to deduce if this was one of his countless dreams of you or not. After a second, a genuine warm smile came to show on your lips, one of those that always made his heart skip a beat, and he realised this was in fact real.

Megumi having a crush on you works out in his favour in the end.

reblogs, likes and comments are appreciated plagiarism not authorized

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gay-dorito-dust · 4 months ago

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My mind is racing right now. I’m just imagining targ!reader who is Rhaenyra’s heir and maybe she’s a realms delight (very politically savvy maybe idk) like her mother was and everyone is trying so hard to get her attention but all she wants is Benjicot and he thinks that he doesn’t have a chance so he doesn’t even entertain the thought of it.

Am I Going Crazy?

No you’re not going crazy anon, I totally understand. I’m just shooting at the hip with with one, so it’s gonna be short and something

The moment you were born the realm fell in love with you just as your family did the second you opened your gorgeous eyes and smiled.

The realms delight was a title once given to your mother when she was younger, was a title now being passed down to you. Everyone from greater house, small houses and even the obscure ones wanted to witness you every smile and every laugh however they could, whether it be on your name day, tourneys or otherwise they all clambered to be in your presence.

‘You had the entire realm at your feet, you could convince the dumb cunt lords and their sons into stupidly plunging into depths of death, should you feel like it.’ is what Daemon says often as to remind you just how much of a hold you held over everyone whereas in a way that your mother didn’t. Or at least not anymore.

You lived relativity with more freedom and leniency then most of similar status, which may have less to you being the core envy for some, but in exchange you were taught by Daemon a plethora of things when came to playing your hand in this game of politics and power. He taught you how to wield a sword and how to keep your opponent guessing your next move, so much so that when training with the likes of Jace, Luke or either Baela and Rhaena you were always ten steps ahead.

Much like your mother, you were granted the privilege to seek out whom ever caught your eye when you were of an eligible age for marriage, so when the news that you offering up your hand in marriage the realm was quick to gather their finest men to speak upon why it is that you should choose them over the others. However none of them were to your taste as some were far too young and could barely pick up a sword, far too old and fat from gorging themselves on wine and food, or just didn’t give a good enough reason for you to marry them other then that they could satisfy you; A line that had them shoved out the door as quickly as they came as you tried to swallow down the bile that rose in your throat.

The Riverlands were beautiful but the reason you came to the Riverlands was for one man and one man only, The new lord of house Blackwood, Benjicot Blackwood. So when you didn’t see the stormy eyed man with the dark hair at the hall you couldn’t help but be a little upset, and so had no choice but to internalise the reasons why and forced yourself to listen to the rest of the men in attendance with a forced look of interest, repressing that restless feeling within your chest to go out and search for him yourself on dragon back if you must.

Soon enough you’ve decided to give yourself a break from it all and wander out to explore of the Riverlands, which was where your marriage tour was currently stationed at, and coming to adore all that you could see in their bright and vibrant colours in comparison to back home. There were Fields that stretched on for miles on end onto the horizon with grass a plenty to feed the cattle, small patches of trees where the birds sung and rested their aching wings and fed on the berries they produce.

Meanwhile with Benjicot he didn’t feel as though he had anything to give to you, the heir and delight of the realm. He was a Lord but there were men of far greater houses then his who could provide you more than he could, and in Benji’s mind he shouldn’t even bother to tempt the idea of you choosing him, not when he knew it was a fight he’ll never win from the beginning. So he didn’t and that hurt him far more then he thought as the idea of not trying, or bothering to try at all would become a regret he would be burdened with carrying for the rest of his life; left alone to ponder in his old age as to what could’ve been had he actually tried.

Oscar and Kermit had tried to convince him into doing something about it but even they couldn’t get his stubborn ass to move an inch, and now both Tully boys could only stand and watch as their friend take his frustrations out on a straw training dummy.

‘This is sad.’ Oscar said as Kermit made a noise of agreement.

‘Very sad.’ Kermit replied as Benjicot moved his attention to another dummy after violently disembowelling the previous training dummy as the straw insides spilled out. ‘He’s probably still wishing that Aeron Bracken was that dummy.’ Kermit then adds as he looks over at his brother, who was doing the exact same.

‘I mean the little twat deserved that pummelling earlier for even thinking he had a chance and now he can’t go because his injuries were too severe.’ Oscar snorted in disbelief before adding on, ‘his uncle knew that if he had let Aeron go in his current state, house Bracken would’ve become a laughing stock of the realm.’

Kermit gave a slight chuckle before looking back at Benjicot and his smile fell from his face. ‘He really likes her…’ he trails off as Oscar’s face now becomes crestfallen and sighs. ‘He does and it easts him up inside that even if he did bother to go, he’d just get rejected regardless.’ Kermit was about to add onto that, when something catches his eye, he spotted a figure emerging from the trees and his eyes widened up seeing it was you and proceeded to smack Oscar in the arm repeatedly.

‘Ow, ow, quit hitting me!’ Oscar said and as he went to hit his brother in the arm as retaliation, his eyes too went wide upon seeing you walking towards them casually.

‘It’s the princess!’ Kermit hissed.

‘Of course it’s the princess dipshit, I’ve got eyes that still see!’ Oscar hissed back.

‘Well obviously he doesn’t!’ Kermit barked as he pointed towards Benjicot, not realising that he just pointed you to the person you’ve been wanting to see most. Meanwhile the lord of house Blackwood was all the more obviously to everything happen, being stuck inside his own head and all, that he didn’t see Kermit and Oscar’s frantic looks over at him as he continued to destroy the third training dummy today nor does he know that you were behind him until you spoke up.

‘What did the training dummies do to deserve such anger?’

Benjicot froze up immediately as he looked out of his eyes at Kermit and Oscar, who were just as frozen to the scene before them as him, as he then took a deep breath and looked over to see that his mind hadn’t been playing him a fool and that you -the realms delight and heir to the iron throne- were actually here in the flesh but why?

You couldn’t help but smile at his shocked expression and tense body language, Benjicot was far more handsome up close than you remembered, all the while still being a shy and awkward but honourable nobleman. ‘Are you alright lord Blackwood? You’re looking a little flustered there.’ You said as you gestured to his cheeks which were burning bright red.

‘Princess, shouldn’t you be on your marriage tour?’ Benjicot asked and already he wanted the ground to swallow him for how stupid he sounded.

‘I am but I’ve decided to put it on hold as to stretch my legs.’ You told him and could see his shoulders deflated a little, ‘besides the person I wished to see most hadn’t shown up, and so I thought that since I am in the Riverlands I shall go seek him out myself instead, drag him back to Raventree hall if I must.’ You then added with a smile as Benjicot’s breath hitched in his throat.

‘And if I may ask princess, but who are you looking for?’ He asks as casually as he could but felt a little under pressure from the looks Oscar and Kermit were giving him as they silently routed for him from a few paces away, his heart elevating even quicker when you took a step towards him.

‘You of course.’ You told him straightforwardly. ‘You were the one person I was hoping to see today.’

‘Why?’ Benji found himself asking without second thought on how it came across. ‘Why me, I have nothing to offer you princess, wouldn’t it be better to have a suitor from a greater house to strengthen your own?’ He didn’t want to believe this was real but also he did want to believe that you had sought him out on your own accord. However this felt too good to be reality, it had to be a dream Benjicot was sure of it, for where else would it be plausible for the person you’ve been yearning after to activity search for him during your marriage tour of all things? It wasn’t something that was even remotely grounded in reality but instead a tale found straight out of an old book.

‘Does it matter as to why I sought you out other then the fact that I’d much rather take you a kind, honourable and honest man, as my husband over some fat cunt of a man?’ You replied as you reached for his hands, desperate to have him trust your words as truth while feeling every one of his calluses press into your hands perfectly, as though the gods made them to hold yours specifically. ‘Does it matter that all I wish to marry out of love and not duty as is expected of me? I am free to marry whoever I wish and I wish for you.’ You add, moving your head so that you could still be in Benjicot’s line of sight when he ducks his head to his chest, seeing you smile so sweetly at him and making his heart leap up into his throat.

‘Tis I where your heart lies princess?’ Benjicot asked softly, not trusting to raise his voice more than a whisper, waiting to wake up from this seamlessly perfect dream. Your smile grew bigger as you pressed your forehead against his own to look him deeper into his stormy eyes that bore an expression of vulnerability and uncertainty. ‘Along with my soul and my mind for countless day, yes, you are where my heart lies Benjicot Blackwood.’ You reassured him, watching the internal conflict within him war against one another for a while before there was nothing but a sweet gleam in his eye.

‘You are where my heart lies too princess,’ Benjicot confessed, pressing his head further against yours with a smile, ‘I’d be more than honoured to be yours.’

You were absolutely glowing upon hearing this as you laughed with pure joy and happiness. your search was over, you had found the one you wanted even though you had to find him first, but that didn’t matter as later that day your marriage tour came to an end as your hand happily secured by one Benjicot Blackwood.

#hotd #house of the dragon #hotd imagines #hotd imagine #hotd x you #hotd x y/n #house of the dragon imagine #house of the dragon imagines #Benjicot Blackwood imagine #Benjicot Blackwood imagines #bloody Ben #bloody Ben x fem!reader #house of the dragon x female reader #hotd x female reader #Benjicot x female reader #Benjicot Blackwood x female reader

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astralis-ortus · 6 months ago

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agent(s) of chaos

✱ boyfriend!bc x gn!reader

— there's a reason why you love game nights with your boyfriend's second family.

w.count → 1.1k genre → fluff, a dash of comedy warning → mild cussing (i think? it's just hints), the chaos that is ot8 stray kids, one time jump, and reader is referred to as baby! no gender specific attributes mentioned aside from reader's hair being soft, heh a.n → based on this request! not gonna lie, i actually got a slight headache from imagining the chaos throughout the fic lol even in my head they're /that/ loudㅠ heh ⋆ see masterlist

game nights with your boyfriend and his friends might not happen often; but once they all come together and get the event date set?

oh, a (good) chaos will definitely ensue.

“goddamit—chan hyung! get your eyes on the game!”

“yeah! go get it, seungmin!”

“felix you bronze—step on it! catch up!”

a collective of cheers and disappointed groans were imminent as soon as yoshi, seungmin’s character of the night, crosses the finish line; leaving dry bowser and baby mario—which respectively belongs to han and chan, in second and third place. If you didn’t know any better, you would have thought the boys were just competing in some major mario kart competition.

“wah chan hyung—you’re seriously so bad at this!” changbin loudly protests—to which you genuinely thank yourself for pushing through with the rented villa agenda—while throwing his head back against the sofa in desperation. lee know, their other unfortunate teammate on the other hand, is busy pretending to box against your cackling boyfriend, having a string of ‘sorry’s falling from his lips.

“argh!” switching his target in desperation, changbin immediately puts his hands together and faces you with his attempt of salvation. “please switch teams with me! i can’t do this any longer! he’s so bad!” he pleaded, nearly earning himself a thrown nintendo controller on the head from chan if it wasn’t for your swift hands, snatching the heavy plastic from your pouting boyfriend. Well, not that you mind though, considering how adorable your boyfriend looked while he sulks.

“yah yah yah—changbin hyung!” seungmin intercepted—and if you know something about the kim seungmin, then his iconic multiple-hit comment is about to pop off. “no one told you to be so bad with rock paper scissors anyway!” the younger pointed out, a smug grin etched across the span of his face, “that’s why you ended up with chan hyung!”

“hey!” your boyfriend was the first to react, pointing at the smug younger one—and of course, it’s not changbin if he didn’t follow suit.

“yah! you prick!” huffing and puffing, changbin was quick on his feet as soon as seungmin stuck out his tongue, further provoking the curly haired male while he ran away—only to fish more of changbin’s loud shouts after the younger. “yah kim seungmin! come back here!”

series of laughter follows the disappearance of the two; to which everyone know by heart now, is also the best time for the rest of the kids to take their water and bathroom break—and alongside that, also became the best time for chan to finally take a proper look at you.

“you’re still good, baby?” the switch in his demeanor made you giggle as you lean into chan’s warm touch on your cheek. despite having witnessed the shift countless of times, the way chan’s voice became very soft when he spoke with you never fails to make your heart flutter. “it’s almost 1 am, aren’t you sleepy yet?”

“i’m good,” a smile follows your simple answer whilst your arms found their home around your boyfriend’s waist, snuggling closer to his warmth while chan lifts your legs to cross over his lap. “can last at least 2 more games, i think. besides, i drank some of the coffee jeongin brewed earlier, remember?”

chan’s exaggerated sigh along with his usual disapproving head shake ignites another set of laugh within you, fishing another pout to appear on his plump lips. “knew i shouldn’t have trusted jeongin,” he dramatically piched his nose bridge, trying to look as disappointed as he could. “he’s part of the bad peaches club after all.”

“i heard that!”

jeongin’s resounding shout from the kitchen startles both you and chan—causing your laughter and chan’s to grow in volume. “not sorry!” chan’s reply simply earned a grunt from the younger, not wanting to further continue the discourse while he’s busy arguing with hyunjin about who can get their hands on the last can of beer in the fridge.

“but anyway,” chan’s gaze softened as they returned to you, running his fingers mindlessly in your soft hair, “tell me whenever you feel sleepy, okay? we’ll go to bed right away.”

“i know,” an exaggerated sigh left your lips as you immitate your boyfriend’s previous antics, “this isn’t my first rodeo, you know?” you snickered as you playfully stuck out your tongue—which in turn only further cause the adoration in his chest to bubble.

oh, how he wish you’re all alone right now. he’d immediately tackle you into a cuddle and plant several dozens of light kisses across your face and neck—but he must resist. after all, he wouldn’t want the kids to tease you over something like that.

“gosh, you’re so annoying,” he hummed, lips betraying him as it formed into a massive grin across his lightly flushed cheeks, “think you’ve been hanging around the kids too much. i should keep a schedule for your visits from now on.”

“nooo!”

4 round of games and 20 minutes later, another wave of commotion returns as the race for second place—since first place has again been coveted by the representative agent of chaos, the kim seungmin—ensues between lee know and han.

“han jisung! step on it step on it!”

“lee know hyung! shi—why are you getting as bad as chan hyung!”

“yah! baby, tell—“

chan’s words immediately died down in his throat as soon as his gaze landed on your peacefully sleeping face—plea to defend himself from his kids vaporized and replaced with a soft thump in his chest. You looked so peaceful with your head resting against his shoulder—a massive contrast to the chaos surrounding you—and chan could feel his heart swell. you looked so cute; especially with your fingers wrapped tightly around the controller seungmin had just handed you a few moments prior.

had you been fighting off the drowsiness all along?

carefully pulling you into his lap, chan smiled as he gently peeled the controller off of your hand before dropping it directly onto hyunjin’s unsuspecting lap, startling the younger.

“ya—“

“shut it,” chan hissed between gritted teeth, easily pulling hyunjin’s focus from the chaos happening on screen and to you—who immediately nodded his head knowingly when he realized what’s happening.

“yah lee min—ow! what was th—oh.”

chan’s next target was changbin—who immediately received a slap on the back instead of chan’s quiet warning. it’s rather effective, however, considering outside of the two current players, everyone now has their eyes on you.

“keep it quiet—if my baby wakes up because of any of you,” chan eyed every single one of his kids, not even caring how severe the teasing he’ll receive by the daylight will be for whatever he’ll be saying next,

“i’m not gonna let it slide.”

©️ astralisortus, 2024. | likes and reblogs are highly appreciated♡

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artsninspo · 7 months ago

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"WHISKY, NEAT" - Rio X Reader

Summary: A follow up of "Baby-Girl" where the reader is Stan's younger sister and meets Rio at Ruby's place. Some time has passed and Rio shows up at your job asking for a whisky, neat.

Pairing: Rio (Good Girls) X Black Reader

Word-Count: 1.3K

Read Part 1 Here

Full Masterlist

RIO MASTERLIST

Smiling, you look up at Rio, the seemingly dangerous stranger from Stan’s & Rubys place. You’d asked your big brother about the charismatic stranger that spent his time around the core three girls and his response was ‘stay away’. It wasn’t what you expected. If he wanted you to stay away wouldn’t he have the same advice for Ruby? He’d always been a good brother. You weren’t surprised in the slightest when he became security and then a cop. Protective instincts were something he’d been born with. Wiping off the bar you glance at the clock. Twenty-five minutes until closing. Only the absolute worst patrons come in at witching hourt. You know it’s no coincidence he’s here either. He’s too cool and confident to walk into your bar twenty five minutes before closing, and on the night you work.

“What’s your poison?” You ask.

“Whisky, neat” he says and you smile reaching for the top shelf. You pour generously and he tosses a hundred onto the pine.

“What’s yours?” Rio asks.

“I only drink to get the party started. The party’s over” you comment and it comes out flirty. You can’t help it, you’re attracted to something about him. The look in his eye says the feeling is mutual.

“Look, I’d love to play this thing up with you but Stan told me to stay away. Stan doesn’t tell me what to do often so I’m inclined to listen.” You tell him drying off a glass as you begin stacking them for closing early.

“I don’t know what you think this is but I’m just here for a drink, baby girl” Rio rasps in surrender, his innocent eyes juxtaposed with his cunning smirk.

“Perfect” you nod, taking his rejection in stride and he laughs showing off pearly whites.

“I mean hypothetically, if I was here to flirt, am I your type?” He asks leaning in and you realize his voice has a lot to do with your attraction to him.

“Hypothetically?” You raise an eyebrow.

“Hypothetically” he repeats in affirmation oozing confidence.

“Absolutely” you affirm. Rio looks shocked. “I have a rule about staying away from my type. As much as I enjoy the adrenaline it’s not good for anyone involved” you speak the truth. The air sizzles between the two of you.

“Why’s that?” Rio asks, taking your rejection well and you smile, liking him a little more.

“Heart damage” you say plainly and he looks around.

“So you like dolling pain out with a smile huh? Liquor for the liver and heartbreak” Rio flirts back impressing you with his quick draw wit.

“You can take it” you wink as he takes a swig of his whisky.

“Y/N it’s quiet you can take off early I can clean up” the owner says misinterpreting the situation.

“Thanks boss,” you smile, cashing out. You make sure your money is good before turning back to Rio. “Goodnight”

Heading in the back you have an argument with the angel on your shoulder trying to convince you to do the right thing and follow Stan’s advice. Switching out of your bartender outfit you put on a sweatsuit and head out back. Security stands around waving as you head out front to meet your driver. Rio is standing against his G-Wagon as you get the text from your driver saying he’ll be five minutes late checking your watch, you remember you’re done early.

“Need a ride?” Rio asks.

You both know if you get in that car the only thing you’ll be doing is riding him into the leather. You aren’t convinced he can handle you but, you are convinced he’s packing heavy artillery. The kind that does all the work for him. With all the confidence you suspect he’s a lazy lover and if he’s as big as you assume it shouldn’t be too much of a problem. Only, guys with egos as big as his don’t like to be fucked, they like the control and ego trip of loud moans and expressive love faces. It would be a face off, a clash of wills and the idea in of itself excites you.

“No” you smile, listening to the angel.

“Just a ride” he shrugs.

“You were just drinking” you remind and he walks a straight line to demonstrate sobriety.

“How many fingers?” You ask.

“Five, three, one” he responds accurately. His smug smile says his point is made. He does nothing in a hurry, all his movements are slowed like he commands time itself. His eyes sparkle under the fluorescent light and yours do too fighting temptation. Your phone burns a hold in your hand. You want to message your driver to cancel and take Rio up on his implied offer of one good night. It’s been so long you deserve it.

“Come on baby girl, let me treat you like it” he whispers, moving your hair off your shoulder as he looks down at you. As much as you want to be one of the other girls who gets to experience the charismatic, dangerous and alluring stranger you resist remembering Stan’s words.

“Why are you here?” You ask, trying to kill the chemistry.

“Kept thinking about you, did some research, found out you work here and here I am?” He shrugs. You don't know whether it's a point or a red flag.

“What do you do for work” you ask, trying to kill your interest in him.

“Entrepreneur” Rio responds.

“Why do you know Ruby and her friends, really. I don’t buy the whole soccer dad thing.” You respond, voicing your hesitations out loud.

“You don’t care” Rio chuckles, making an accurate observation. It’ll be nothing special. You text your driver you’ll be late and open the door to Rios truck getting in the car. He smiles, shutting it behind you. You open the glove box to get condoms but a gold gun shines within it shocking you. Your jaw drops as a soberingly good reason to stay away from him glares back at you. Spontaneous sex with a stranger is dangerous enough, automatic weapons that are clearly personalized is where you draw the line. Shutting the glove box you look at Rio, unable to ignore what you just saw.

“Changed my mind” you say once the door is open again, you hop down suddenly acutely aware of your surroundings. Rio curses himself punching the wheel. He needed you to run him dry. To see the strained looks on your pretty face as he digs you out. It’s been awhile since he’s had a genuinely satisfying conquest. A woman that isn’t inhibited sexually and excites him. One that gives as good as she gets.

Watching you walk away takes a lot out of him. He never chased women but was considering it. The chemistry between the two of you is too solid to willingly discard. Starting the car his pride loses to his lust as he pulls up beside you topping down the window.

“Carjacking is big, it’s for safety” Rio lies.

“Don’t make me lose respect for you now with a lie” you tell him heading to the back entrance.

“Stop storming off, then” Rio says and you stop.

“I’m not a bad guy” he says but you highly doubt that.

“Large amounts of cash, one. My brother says stay away, two. Let’s not even count you showing up here. A gold weapon, three!” You snap.

“The fact that you’re not scared tells me you can handle it” Rio says goading you. Smiling, you shake your head at how he’s missed the point.

“The name Rio is another red flag” you add. “I’m going to follow my gut, so drop it?” You tell Rio bitterly and he sighs. You continue walking away.

“Y/N, hey!” He shouts and you turn.

“Call me Christopher,” he says, making you smile. The irony is not lost on you. It’s the quintessential biblical name.

“Goodnight Christopher” you concede.

“Nite” he sighs, still turned on. Swallowing the bitterness in his throat Rio drives off heading to find Beth.

Next Part

_________

Authors note: If you're reading this thank you for all the love on Part One, its slowly keeps getting love and I really appreciate it 💖🥰. Let me know what you think - comment, like & reblog. Muah, xoxo.

#rio x black!reader #rio x you #rio good girls #rio x reader #masterlist #manny montana x reader #manny montana

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reidology13 · 2 months ago

Text

I tell someone I love them (just as a distraction)

Spencer Reid x fem famous!reader

Summary: In the depths of his addiction, Spencer finds someone who needs an escape as much as he does. cw: talk of addiction, allusions to sex (no actual smut), angst no happy ending

Part 2 here!

Meaningless whispers of ‘I love you’ mumbled between laboured breaths and cold kisses in an apartment that doesn’t feel like mine. The sheen of sweat that coats his body is nearly constant these days, it has nothing to do with physical exertion. The glaze over his hollow eyes is the furthest possible thing from pleasure, although by now he might have his wires crossed. His face is beautiful, and I can see myself marrying it in another life, one where my chest isn’t as hollow as his cheeks. A life where I don’t have to ignore the fresh scars in the crook of his elbow as I pull his shirt off.

I am not in that world, and neither is he, a reality that I cannot grieve because this is what I asked for, what I have been working for since before I can remember. The parties that leave me empty and sick, the performances that start the moment I leave the stage, the new friends who tag along for my name. I love him because he doesn’t care about any of it, if only because he’s too high to care about much at all.

I don’t feel anything when I finish, I’m not sure he does, either. I watch as he disappears from my side, already scrambling to his bag, searching through it until he finds what he needs. He slips into the bathroom, finally taking his chance to feel something after the numbness of the night. He has his escape, he used to be mine. I wonder if one day the chemicals he defiles his veins with will stop calming his ever racing mind, or if I just need a higher dose.

When he comes back, I pull him close to me, dragging him back down into the bedsheets and sweat. It works this time, my skin alight with every electrifying touch as his fingers dance gracefully across my body. His hands shake as they move, a feeling that makes my nerves sing as a lump forms in my throat and my heart sinks to my stomach. He looks up at me with those brown eyes that would be so gorgeous if they held any emotion, anything but that violent hunger for a craving he should have satisfied moments earlier. He can’t up his dose as easily as I can, can’t pull his vice back to bed without the risk of never waking up. He doesn’t bother saying that he loves me this time, we both know it’s not true. Or maybe it is, but there are things he loves much more, and telling me he loves me debases one of the only pure things left in the world. I’m glad he doesn’t try this time.

He holds me afterwards, his trembling body not yet ready to stand up, or maybe he knows that the moment he does he’ll be back inside the bathroom. I turn my head away, and as he buries his face in my shoulder, I pretend I don’t feel the apology he mouths against my glass skin. He runs a hand down my upper arm, his touch tentative and light, scared that I’ll shatter into a million pieces. My heart does. If he knows about the tear that runs down my face, he ignores it, and I’m not surprised. Ignorance is what we’re good at, after all.

When I wake up, he’s gone, slipped into the early morning, or called into the job that he shouldn’t be doing in his condition. I crawl out of my cold, damp sheets, the disgusting aftermath of our night. The sick feeling that perpetually sits in my gut, loosening under him, twisting tighter under the sun of the next day.

Slowly, I peel back the layers of sticky fabric, watching how they cling to my skin and each other as I force them into the washing machine. I turn it on.

Fresh sheets are laid out on my bed, sheets that haven’t yet witnessed the tornado of us, still clean and untainted by tears and sweat and words that never mean anything. I lay the sheet over the mattress, fighting to wrap it around all four corners as it perpetually escapes one, always sitting just slightly wrong. I place the pillows down carefully, fighting the urge to punch them like I’ve been wanting to punch his face every time he shows up at my door.

I can see myself marrying him in this world, too, getting him the help he needs and staying with him through it all. He would be able to be there for me when I need it, not an escape from, but support through the other parts of my life, a person to love and talk to about the hard things. But I know that is still impossible. One day, he will sober up and disappear, or I will be an uninvited guest at his funeral. There’s no option that ends well for both of us, the best we can do is take it as it happens and ignore everything.

I watch as the last blanket floats down over the bed, carelessly adjusting its corners. It looks exactly the same.

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maimingaffairs · 1 year ago

Note

hellooo i would like to request something <33

basically hanahaki disease w/ Aleksander? when alina arrived at the little palace, reader had been coughing and Aleksander noticed then reader found out that she was coughing petals and eventually got to know it was a disease with the help of some of the plant expert grishas i guess perhaps the healers? then reader starts to distance herself from Aleksander so he wouldn't know but he eventually found out because one of the grisha witnessed one of reader's coughing session and maybe an angst to fluff fic 👉👈

first of all, i am so sorry.. she's a long one... this has been tentatively proofread so i apologise for any grammar or spelling errors. this is my first time writing this trope so i hope it will do alright. thank u for ur beautiful req, my lovely anon, i love u!

warnings: hanahaki disease, blood, vomiting, aleksander is an idiot here lowkey.

word count: 11.9k

To Love Another & Be Loved (aleksander morozova x fem!reader)

The Sun Summoner had to be one of the nicest people you’d met in your entire life.

You wanted to dislike her, after all, she was the center of Aleksander’s attention almost all of the time. Not even the scraps of his time had been reserved for you as of late.

But you simply couldn’t hate her. She was nothing but kind to you. You spent much of your time with her, anyway. You were the only other Tailor besides Genya and often helped her ready herself for important things when Genya was tending to the Queen. At first, your service to her was only out of obligation to Aleksander. After all, he was your best friend and he fought the King constantly to keep you away from the Grand Palace. The least you could do was help a bit. Surely it would be temporary.

You sat in Alina’s room with her and you focused hard on twisting her hair up and braiding little bits of it to create an elaborate updo. She was to have dinner with the King and Queen and the Prince that night along with Aleksander. You wordlessly pinned up a thin, tiny braid and Alina sighed.

“At what point does this all just… stop?” She asked warily and you eyed her through the mirror she sat in front of.

You raised an eyebrow and shook your head, “What do you mean?” You questioned and flickered your eyes back on her hair.

“Just… the showiness of it all. When do I become a person with capabilities rather than a spectacle?”

“Likely never.” You replied with a frown and you met her eyes in the mirror, “But that shouldn’t discourage you. Be the best damn spectacle this country has seen.”

Her shoulders squared a bit and she seemed to at least somewhat like what you had to say. You smiled and went back to her hair, your fingers deftly weaving braids and little twists together for a while longer. You sat back after some time and then placed a few decorative pins in her hair, giving her an approving smile.

“Lovely. I’m sure the royal family will just eat you up.” You teased and rose from the stool you sat on.

“I’m sure Aleksander won’t like that.” She countered playfully and the smile slowly faded from your face.

You blinked in surprise a few times and then let out an uneasy chuckle, “So he’s told you his name?”

You didn’t know why it bothered you. But it did.

Alina nodded and she slid on her kefta and buttoned it up while she hummed. You eyed her and bit down on the inside of your cheek. It was black, of course. You glanced down at your own kefta and smoothed it down almost self-consciously. You wore a red kefta that was intricately embroidered with blue threads, and you’d never been disappointed in it until now.

Why not dress her in gold? You asked silently as you stared at her and you felt that same bitter twinge of jealousy you’d felt ever since she came to the Little Palace. Furthermore, the little sparkle in her eyes when she said his name didn't go unnoticed by you.

“Yes, is it not very common knowledge?” She asked once she finished buttoning up her clothes and you shook your head.

You opened your mouth to speak but a knock on the door cut you off. You took this as an opportunity to end this conversation before it made you more upset and you hurried to the door. You opened it up and you were instantly met by a familiar pair of dark eyes. A little weight was lifted from your chest and you smiled up at Aleksander who gave you a smile right back.

“I figured you’d still be here.” He remarked and leaned down to press a chaste and polite kiss on your cheek. Your skin felt warm and tingly where his lips had made contact and as he pulled away, you prayed he didn’t see the way your face was flushing.

“It probably wouldn’t have taken so long if Alina didn’t have so much hair.” You noted and then tucked a piece of your own back behind your ear, “I haven’t seen much of you recently.” You remarked, trying your best to keep your tone casual.

Aleksander clasped his hands behind his back and he gave you a wide smile, “Well, as you know, I’ve been very busy. Join me for tea tomorrow afternoon, I would love to catch up with you.” He said earnestly and you felt a tug in your chest.

“Of course. Tea sounds wonderful.” You replied, and watched as his eyes shifted over your shoulder.

The look on his face made your own smile falter. His eyes were fixed on Alina who stood behind you and his smile had turned into an awestruck expression, his eyes softening in ways they didn’t even soften for you.

“Miss Starkov, you look dazzling.” He commented and you suddenly felt very small, standing in the middle of them.

Her shy giggle sent a gravelly itch up your throat and you blinked a few times, trying to fight back a cough.

She thanked him and said something else, but you didn’t hear it because a dry, gritty cough came tearing up through your throat. You held your hands over your mouth frantically and doubled over. You felt a hand on your back and slowly you straightened yourself back up and gasped for air, the coughs ceasing.

“Are you alright? Would you like a bit of water?” You heard Alina ask and you shook your head, shifting your eyes downwards.

“What was that? Did you choke on a fly?” Aleksander asked with an amused little chuckle. You gave him a terse laugh in response and felt your throat burn again. Another much smaller and shorter cough reverberated through your chest and you held your hands tightly over your mouth. A warm, wet feeling coated your palms and your face paled.

Once you recovered you frantically balled your hands up in fists and lowered them to your sides, clearing your throat, “I’m not sure where that came from. I think I’ll go make some tea. Have a lovely dinner.” You murmured hoarsely and scurried past Aleksander, not bothering to look back at them. You made it halfway down the hallway before you slowly unfurled your hands and held them up so that you could see your palms.

They were sporadically coated in blood.

“You don’t have a cold, y/n. Perhaps it’s just the dry air. Winter is upon us.” Genya stated as she stirred a sugar cube into her tea.

You looked over your shoulder and expected to see Aleksander any time now and then you turned back to Genya with a shrug.

“I don’t know what else it could be. I can’t stop coughing.” You replied, leaving out the part where most of your coughs dragged blood up from your throat.

She hummed and took a sip of her tea before shaking her head, “No. Grisha don’t get sick, lovely. You can’t have a cold. Perhaps you’re allergic to something you’ve been smelling or using or eating. Anything new in your diet? Perfumes? Lotions?” She pressed and you shook your head, “Well, then I’m not sure what to tell you. See a Healer if you’re concerned about it but I’m telling you it’s likely the dry air.” She urged.

You looked down at your own tea and watched tendrils of steam climb the air above it. You let out a sigh and reached out to grab a sugar cube, when you felt a hand on your shoulder. You jumped and spun around, feeling instant relief when you saw that it was only Aleksander who had his hand on you. You sighed contently and leaned your cheek down against the back of his hand.

“Please, forgive me. I know I’m a bit late to tea. I just had a rather disappointing conversation with a few trackers.” He hummed and then pulled his hand away from your shoulder, leaving you with a certain kind of emptiness.

He slid into the chair next to you and grabbed your hand tightly, and you felt your heart beat a little bit faster. Genya must have heard it, because she smirked and quickly raised her teacup to her lips to hide it.

“You weren’t at breakfast this morning.” He commented and tapped your knuckles with the side of his thumb.

“I wasn’t feeling the best.” You drawled and looked up at his face. He didn’t seem overly concerned when you mentioned that you didn’t feel well, but he didn’t brush it off, either.

“Odd. Perhaps you should see my Healer.” He pressed and then he reached out and poured himself a cup of tea with his free hand before he released your hand.

You didn’t respond. Instead, you turned back to your own tea and took a sip of it, looking up at Genya who cleared her throat and stood up.

“Well. I’ll leave you two to it then. I’ve got to get back to the Queen.” She stated and gave you a small wave before scurrying off.

“Y/n. My Healer?” Aleksander pressed and you glanced up at him.

You gave him a polite shake of your head and you smiled, “No, it’s all okay. I feel much better now.” You insisted. And it was partially true. You did feel a bit better now that you had some tea.

You felt his onyx eyes on you as you turned back to your tea and before you could turn towards him, he reached up and brushed a bit of your hair back behind your ear.

“You look very tired.” He commented and frowned, letting his fingers linger against the side of your face for only a second before dropping them.

“I am tired. But I have a lot to do today. Besides, I’m getting fitted for my dress today. For the Fete.” You commented, trying to change the subject.

He hummed and then picked up his teacup, “What are you going to wear?” He asked curiously and he shifted his entire body towards you.

You looked over at him and slowly turned yourself to face him as well and you gave him a little smile, “Well, not red. That’s for sure. I picked something soft. Pink. A pretty pink dress.”

“Pink is a form of red.” Aleksander pointed out, an amused little smile forming on his perfect lips.

You giggled and then shook your head, reaching out to give his arm a very gentle smack, “Pink is a very nice color and even if it is red at the very core of it all, I will be wearing it.”

He rolled his eyes playfully and then he chuckled, “Determined little thing, aren’t you?” He asked and then set his teacup down, “I’m glad you’re coming. I was worried you would skip this Fete like you did last year.”

“Well, last year Vasily was all over me. And I hated it. Of course I didn’t go.” You remarked with a little snort. Aleksander laughed softly and shook his head, turning back to his tea.

You looked at him, your face softening. Everything about him seemed so… inviting in that moment. The way his hair was immaculately brushed back and curled around the back of his neck, the little curve of his lips as they stayed in their smile from your antics. His dark eyes shone with a rare light of humor and the light of the afternoon sun illuminated them perfectly as you stared at him from the side. He was so heartbreakingly beautiful.

And you wanted him so badly. You wanted to kiss him, you wanted him to hold you, you wanted him to look at you the way he’d looked at Alina the night before. You wanted to wear black with him and you wanted to be at his side during the Fete.

You were desperately in love with your best friend, and the worst part was that you could never tell him.

Your silence must have concerned him in some way, because he slowly turned to face you, the smile slowly vanishing from his face.

“Y/n, you look like you are about to cry, darling. What’s going on?” He asked softly and you shook your head a few times.

“N..nothing is wrong.” You lied and felt your throat begin to tingle with the familiar preceding another coughing fit, “I think I just need to go lie down. I feel… unwell.” You added, your voice getting weaker as you tried to keep a cough at bay.

“Please,” Aleksander began and slowly rose from his chair, “let me walk you to your room, my dear. You are starting to worry me a little bit, if I’m being perfectly honest with you.” He stated and held his arm out for you to take.

You reached up to grab his arm but instantly yanked your hands back and brought them to your face as you began to cough violently into your palms. The sharp, metallic taste of blood filled your mouth and you heaved forward on your chair, nearly falling off as you coughed. Aleksander’s strong hands caught your shoulders, and before you could protest, he was lifting you up into his arms.

“Alright. I’m going to take you to your room and then I’m going to send for a Healer. This isn’t natural. You shouldn’t be coughing like that.” He stated.

You held your hands over your mouth for a while longer as your coughs subsided and you blinked a few times. Once you were sure no more coughs were to come, you pulled your hands up into the sleeves of your kefta and you cleared your throat, wincing as it burned, “No, you don’t need to. I swear to the Saints it’s just allergies, Aleksander.” You said wheezily.

He looked down at your face and his brows furrowed together and he shook his head, “You have blood on your chin.” He commented and you gaped up at him.

You reached up and wiped your chin with the sleeve of your kefta and he simply shook his head. You closed your eyes exhaustedly and let him carry you the rest of the way to your room. Once he’d gotten you to your bedroom, he laid you out on your bed and frowned down at you.

“I’m sending a Healer up here. Don’t be stubborn, please let them help. I’d stay but I’m taking Alina riding. Promise me you will accept the help I send for you.” He said sternly and you opened your eyes.

You stared up at him, something snapping in your chest. He couldn’t even stay to make sure you were okay?

“That’s fine. I promise.” You said bitterly and then shook your head, “Have fun riding with Alina.”

You were sure he caught the bitterness in your tone, because he scowled slightly and then shook his head. He looked as if he might argue with you but instead he wordlessly turned on his heel and left your room, slamming your door behind him.

A brutal cough tore itself free from your chest and it sent you shooting up into a sitting position. You held your hands over your mouth to catch the droplets of blood that loosed themselves from your throat. Your throat burned as if you were swallowing acid and you miserably pulled your hands away from your mouth between coughs. You stared down at the blood in your hands and suddenly your stomach twisted. You launched yourself off of the bed and grabbed the waste bin that sat near your bed and you coughed violently into it until something sharp tore its way up through your throat and out of your mouth. You had to blink a few times before it registered what exactly sat in the once-empty waste bin; what exactly came out of your mouth. A small cluster of thorns lay in a thick puddle of your blood, and a cluster of bloody rose petals laid around it.

Your mouth hung agape as you stared down into the wastebasket and you pushed it away from you with a frightened yelp.

Something soft slid against your tongue and you reached up and shakily pulled a blood wetted rose petal off of your tongue, and it was the last thing you saw before your vision went black.

Something wet and cold mopped across your feverish forehead and you slowly opened your eyes. Someone’s hand moved back and forth in your line of sight and you heard a loud gasp before your hands were being clutched tightly. You cleared the fuzziness from your vision by blinking a handful of times and you slowly sat up a bit to see Genya standing over you with her hands clasping yours. A Healer stood at your bedside with a cloth in her hand and you looked back and forth between the two of them before you let out a raspy sigh.

“Y/n! Sweetheart! What is going on? Emilia found you this way. She said The Darkling sent her up here to you and that when she came in you were out cold on the floor.”

Emilia must have been the name of the Healer girl at your side and you looked over at her with a terse smile before you looked back at Genya. Her wide eyes were even wider with fear and you frowned, not wanting to have frightened her.

“I’m fine, I promise. It just must be aller-“

“It is not allergies!” Genya cut you off viciously and dropped your hand to point at the waste bin, “What kind of allergy has you throwing up… plants?” She demanded and you simply shrugged.

She exasperatedly squeezed the hand of yours that she still held and she frowned, “Emilia tried to heal you but couldn’t find anything wrong with you. Your lungs sound terrible but other than that, you’re healthy.” She said with worry lacing every word she spoke, “When The Darkling gets back from riding-“

You shook your head and held your hand up, “No. No we are not going to tell him a single thing, do you two understand me? You will tell him I am suffering allergies and will be fine in a week or two. I don’t want him around.” You said in a clipped tone.

Genya looked surprised when you said this but she didn’t protest. Instead, she comfortingly brushed her thumb across the back of your hand and let out a defeated little sigh, “Oh, honey. Are things that bad?”

You slowly looked up at Emilia and Genya did as well. Emilia looked between the two of you and she let out a little sigh.

“I’ll go get you some tea for your throat.” She said, excusing herself from the conversation that you so desperately wanted to keep private.

The moment the Healer left the room, you burst into tears. Your ragged breaths seemed to tear trenches into your throat as you cried and little coughs escaped your lips between sobs. You buried your face in your hands and barely noticed when Genya sat right next to you and wrapped her arm around your shoulder, pulling you against her side.

“Sweetheart, what happened? This afternoon you were all smiles for him.” She breathed and gently rubbed your arm, soothing your cries just slightly.

“Oh, Genya. I love him. I’m so very in love with him and he hardly gives me the time of day anymore. He speaks of Alina like she’s hung his entire sky. He looks at her like she’s more precious than jewels. He noticed I wasn’t feeling well, and he couldn’t even stay with me. He just tossed a healer at me and left to go with her. It hurts, Genya.” You cried, hiding your face against her shoulder.

The red haired girl stroked your hair and your back and your arm as you cried against her and at some point, reached out to grab the cool cloth Emilia had left behind. She gently dabbed it against your cheeks and the side of your neck and she frowned, letting you cry.

Your chest ached terribly at the idea that you loved your best friend who would never love you back, but it seemed to hurt more that you were all in all losing said best friend. Genya coaxed you down until your cheek was against her upper thigh and she ran her fingers through your hair, dabbing the cold cloth against your burning skin still.

“Things will work out the way they’re supposed to, honey.” Genya said softly, still trying to soothe you.

Tears rolled down your cheeks still, but your cries subsided for the most part. You exhaustedly closed your eyes and relaxed underneath the Tailor’s touch. You took painful, deep breaths and attempted to calm yourself. You laid in silence against Genya’s thigh for a long time, the only sounds being your sniffles and coughs and little whines. You desperately tried to clear your head of Aleksander, and nearly had, before your door swung open. You heard the handle smack against the wall, and heavy footsteps made their way across your floors. Aleksander. You laid still against Genya and prayed that he thought you were asleep.

“Emilia says it’s only allergies.” Genya said quietly and you felt her hand slow in your hair until it rested protectively against the crown of your head.

You heard him shuffle for a moment before he hummed, “She looks miserable.” He remarked.

He lifted his hand to touch your arm, but Genya shooed his hand away and shook her head.

“Let her sleep.” She murmured and you heard Aleksander snort.

“Well, according to my Healer, she’s been unconscious for three hours up until now. How is she sleeping again?” He asked and you could tell he didn’t believe you were asleep.

That didn’t stop you from pretending, still.

“Because she is feeling unwell. Why don’t you come and see her tomorrow morning?” Genya suggested and slowly began to drag her fingers through your hair again.

“I don’t want to see her tomorrow morning. I want to see her now.”

“I don’t think she wants to see you, moi soverenyi.” The Tailor countered.

The room was silent for a moment and then you heard the rustle of his kefta as he shifted in place. You bit the inside of your cheek, fighting back every desire inside of you that screamed for you to launch yourself into his arms. Maybe if you did, he would carry you like he had earlier. You wanted to scream how you loved him in his face and cry on his chest about how he was hurting you. But you stayed rooted in the bed.

“Mm, alright then. Let her know that she needn’t seek me out then. If she truly does not want to see me. I won’t bother her.” He said coldly and you felt your face screw up in despair.

“That’s not what I’m saying. I’m only saying she likely doesn’t want to be bothered and roused from an already uncomfortable sleep just so you can ask her what I’ve already asked a hundred times. It’s just allergies. It happens with the turn of the seasons.” Genya explained calmly, her voice steady.

“I’ve known her for years now and she’s never had allergies at the turn of the seasons.” He stated.

“Well, that’s the only thing that it can be. The Healer said it herself. She’s perfectly healthy otherwise.” Genya insisted.

There was another long silence in the room and you could feel his near-black eyes boring into you, traveling your crumpled form. But he said nothing more. After a while, you heard his footsteps as he left the room and the door closed, much more carefully this time.

You didn’t dare open your eyes until Genya sighed and gently tapped the back of your head, “He’s not here, it’s okay.” She murmured and you slowly opened your eyes.

Another cry escaped your lips.

The next few days were absolutely miserable. You’d spent the first day and half in your room, and when Genya wasn’t waiting on you, you were alone. Aleksander didn’t come to see you once, and you came to accept that it was just going to be your new normal.

The first time you emerged from your bedroom in days was for dinner, and Genya held you tight to her side as she walked with you down to the dining hall. Normally, she didn’t eat with the other Grisha, but she had neglected many of her duties to the Queen to take care of you for the past two days.

Now, three days had passed since you had last seen- or heard, rather- Aleksander, and you sat out in the courtyard on the grass with Genya. The red haired girl had insisted that you needed sunlight and she sat and read under a tree with you while you laid your head in her lap. You could hardly speak, and when you did, your voice was raspy and quiet. Every now and then, the girl would look over her book to check on you, and each time she did, she’d give you a kind smile.

“Are you hungry?” She asked after a while and brought her hand up to your forehead to feel for your temperature.

You shook your head weakly and rubbed your cheek with the back of your hand, “I don’t have an appetite, admittedly.” You murmured and she clicked her tongue, but didn’t press the subject.

You tried your best to enjoy the cool breeze on your feverish cheeks, but you couldn’t seem to distract yourself from the pounding in your head and the raw burn in your throat.

“What are you reading?” You asked Genya absentmindedly and she hummed.

“Reading up on rare diseases. I found a few books that have information about sicknesses and accounts of Grisha becoming ill with certain ones. I thought maybe it would help us figure out what’s going on with you.” She stated and turned a page as if on cue.

A warm feeling tickled your nose and you felt it travel downwards until your skin was wet and you gasped and let out a curse. You sat up quickly and held your hand over your nose as it bled and you glanced down at the little bloody spot on Genya’s kefta.

“Saints. I’m so sorry. I’m such a mess.” You breathed and cupped your hands underneath your nose to catch the rapidly flowing blood.

The girl simply shook her head and pulled handkerchief out of her pocket and passed it to you, “Don’t be sorry. We can get the stain out easily.” She insisted, and you gratefully took the handkerchief from her and held it against your nose.

“Perhaps we should get you inside?” She suggested and you nodded once. You grabbed onto the tree with your free hand and balanced yourself as you rose to your feet. You felt winded as you stood and your throat began to prickle and you let out a groan that was cut short when you leaned forward and coughed viciously into the sleeve of your kefta. Little petals spewed out of your mouth as you coughed and got stuck with your blood onto the fabric of your sleeve, but you weren’t surprised anymore. Thorns and petals came along with the coughs now. At least now your nose had ceased its bleeding. You wiped your mouth with your sleeve and groaned in pain as you felt Genya touch your back.

“Oh, Saints. Hurry. Let’s go inside. The Darkling is out here.” She said in a hushed tone, and though you two tried to hurry into the palace, it seemed you weren’t fast enough, because Aleksander called your name.

You looked up at Genya worriedly and she took a glance at your face. Blood was smeared under your nose and on your chin and she let out a huff before she snatched the handkerchief from your hand and quickly cleaned up your face. She stuffed the soiled fabric into her pocket once more and you turned around just in time to see Aleksander approach you with Alina not far behind.

His kefta billowed like smoke behind him in the breeze and when he reached you, his face was nothing short of irritated and accusatory. His beautiful face was set in an angry grimace and his eyes were hard. You shied back slightly and felt Genya’s hand press encouragingly into your back.

“It must be rather fun ignoring me, since you’ve done it flawlessly for three days now.” He snapped and you looked down at your feet, biting down on the inside of your cheek.

“I haven’t felt well, I’m sorry.” You mumbled.

He snorted and reached out to grab your jaw, tilting your face up so that he could look down upon you, “That’s not an excuse. I don’t expect you to be prancing and frolicking around, but as someone who cares about you, I would at least like to be updated about your state.”

His words sent a shockwave of sadness through your chest and you frowned, your eyes watering. You blinked away your tears rapidly, refusing to cry in front of him and Alina. He let go of your face slowly and he shook his head.

“My dear, I worry about you, that’s all. I’m not truly angry, oh please don’t cry.” He said softly, his expression ridding itself of all anger as he watched your eyes gloss over with unshed tears.

You shifted your gaze over his shoulder and watched as Alina gently grabbed his arm and he subtly pulled her into his side. The action had you biting down on your cheek hard, a terrible cough fighting its way up your throat. You felt something sharp rise to the back of your throat and you shoved past all three of them to get inside of the palace, holding your hands over your mouth as you raced to your bedroom.

You were unsure of how you held it in for so long, but as soon as you got to your room, a violent retching sound ripped it’s way up through your chest and your throat and you fell to your knees and a slew of blood and petals came spewing out of your mouth. The heavy, sharp presence was still in the back of your throat and you coughed, and coughed, and coughed until you felt something shred the back of your throat and come loose. A rosebud tumbled from behind your lips, followed by a thick mixture of blood and saliva. You stared down at the sticky, bloody mess you had made all over your pale blue rug and you brought your shaky hands up to your clammy face, covering your mouth as you sobbed.

Your chest ached and burned as if you’d swallowed blades and you let out a shrill scream of frustration. You sunk down onto the floor even further and curled up into a ball, your cheek resting a bit too close to the sticky puddle of blood and floral matter. You were too exhausted to care. Everything hurt, nothing made sense. Every breath you took sent shards of glass sliding down your throat and you coughed again, bits of petals getting stuck to your bloodied lips. You slowly closed your eyes and shivered once, reaching down and holding your knees to your chest.

No one had followed you. Not even Aleksander. Even just thinking his name sent a pang of raw emotion through your chest and a few little tears rolled down your cheeks as you laid against the ruined carpets. Too busy with Alina. Too busy with everything. When did the busy excuses end? At what point did you need to accept that he didn’t love you as much as you loved him, and certainly not in the same way. You cursed yourself for thinking of him. Why were you thinking of him? He surely wasn’t thinking of you. You should have been thinking about why the hell you were sick.

But all you could think about was Aleksander.

You weren’t sure how or when, but at some point, you’d been moved up onto your bed and your blood-ruined dress had been switched out for a light, breathable nightgown. A hand dragged itself through your hair slowly and you almost thought you were imagining in your half-asleep state, until you heard voices.

“I don’t really care. I will remove someone from the frontlines if we must. I need a very, very good Healer and I need them promptly.”

You recognized Aleksander’s voice anywhere, and now that you were a bit more aware, you could tell that it was not Genya’s delicate little hand running through your hair.

It was his.

You kept your eyes closed and tried to enjoy the very minimally important action of his hand stroking your hair so gently.

“Then find someone. But I don’t think this is anything to worry about.”

That voice belonged to Genya, and you felt a sense of relief that she was still covering for you.

“Genya, do not give me excuses any longer. I know she is ill. To the extent and with what, I am unsure. But she is my dearest friend, and I will not be so easily deterred from finding a solution to her health.” He spoke quietly, as if he didn’t want to wake you and you felt your lip nearly wobble.

You didn’t know if you were joyful or devastated to hear him call you his friend. You longed for ignorance. You longed to think that he was here to confess his love for you, you wanted him to play with your hair like this for hours and hold you in his arms while you slept.

You wouldn’t get your wish, though.

“Sir, I think it would just be best to give her space.” Genya suggested quietly.

Aleksander’s hand stilled against your head and went rigid, “And why do you say that?” He asked coldly.

“Well, you just hardly… see her anymore. I think perhaps she’s a bit bothered by your neglect.”

“Has she told you this?”

“Yes.”

The room was silent and you wanted to sob as you felt his hand slowly leave your hair. You wanted to catch his wrist and bring it back, beg him to never let you go.

“Well, she always has been a bit of a jealous little thing. She’ll get over it. I’ll be back to check on her tomorrow sometime.” He said dismissively and you felt the bed move and assumed he had climbed off of it.

You waited until you heard him leave to open your eyes and you let out a long, ragged sigh. You felt the bed dip beside you and Genya was placing her hand against your forehead. She let out a little hum and then shook her head.

“You’re very lucky I managed to clean everything up before he came barging in here.” She said softly and reached down to grab your hand.

Tears welled up in your eyes and you blinked them away, shrugging.

“At some point we need to tell him what’s going on, Y/n.” She urged gently and then squeezed your hand as softly as possible.

You felt a little wave of gratefulness in your chest at Genya’s determined and dedicated presence and you squeezed her hand back, “Eventually.” You murmured and then closed your eyes again, still feeling exhausted.

“You sound terrible.” She noted and sat up against the headboard, resting her back against it. You very slowly rolled over and laid your head against her thigh and you sighed.

“You’re my best friend, Genya.” You murmured.

She let out a little sigh and she laid her hand on top of your head, “You really love him, don’t you?” She asked quietly.

You didn’t answer her at first. She knew the answer and so did you, but the moment you spoke it aloud, it became real and it became capable of ruining everything.

“Yes.” You finally answered in a squeak.

There was a silence that filled the air around the two of you and you felt her lean over the edge of the bed for a moment. When she settled back in her spot, she tapped your head very gently and cleared her throat.

“I found something. While you were sleeping.” She said almost nervously.

“What do you mean, ‘something’?” You asked and stared off at the wall ahead of you.

“I mean about your… condition.” She said quietly and you could hear her flipping through a book above you.

Finally, she laid the open book down in front of your face and you reached up with a shaking hand to grab it. You sat up slowly with a bit of her help and laid the book in your lap as you peered down at it. The pages were old and weathered but the drawings were clear as can be. Roses were sketched onto the page and you ran your fingers over the paper as you read the text next to it.

‘In extreme cases of unrequited love, the affected person will become sick with envy and begin to exhibit signs of serious illness…’

You blinked a few times and read through the recorded symptoms.

Every single one was something you were experiencing.

“No. Absolutely not.” You breathed and looked up at a frowning Genya.

“The symptoms are all there. This is what’s ailing you.” She said, her eyes growing watery.

“Genya-“

“I’ll spare you the heavy reading. There is no cure, not unless he confesses his true and honest love for you.”

You felt dread add itself to your already sore chest and you turned your head to look up at her.

“Oh.”

She brought her hands up and cupped your cheeks and she shook her head, “I swear, we won’t let you die. We will find a way. Me and Baghra, Saints, I’ll even tell Him-“

“You can’t tell him.” You whispered and looked up at her tearfully, “You have to swear to me that you will not tell him. Genya, I’m begging you. Let him just… let him be happy with his Sun Summoner. He’ll forget about me, he’s already beginning to.” You said and sniffled, reaching up to wipe your eyes.

Tears were falling down the redhead’s cheeks now and she shook her head, “No, this isn’t how it ends.” She said sternly and wiped her own eyes with the backs of her hands after she lowered them from your face.

You leaned your head against her shoulder and closed your eyes, “I’m so tired.” You whispered, feeling exhaustion course through your body at a rapid rate.

“Sleep, sweetheart. Please. I’ll stay here with you until morning.” Genya promised and you nodded.

She helped you lay back onto the pillow behind you and she tucked the comforter around your shoulders before feeling your forehead once again.

“Thank you for being so good to me.” You whispered and she gave you a heartbreakingly sad smile.

“What are friends for?”

The next morning was excruciating. A terrible coughing fit roused you from your sleep and you’d- yet again- made a bloody, flowery mess all over. This time, you helped Genya clean the mess up despite her protests. Once she’d helped you clean up, she announced that she had a hot bath drawn for you.

You followed her into your bathroom and pulled your clothes off before you stepped into the hot water and let out a long, relieved sigh as you sunk down into it and sat.

“I need to go tend to the Queen for a little while. I shouldn’t be too long. Will you be okay if I leave for just a few hours? If you need anything, I’ve already informed Baghra of your condition, you can go find her.” She explained and then gave you a little smile.

“You’ve been busy this morning.” You commented and she shrugged.

“Well, I’m just making sure you’ll be alright while we figure this all out.” She said softly and patted your head a few times, “Well, off I go. Please, please be careful. And if you have a coughing fit, do it over the tub. We can drain the water easily.” She said, half joking.

You bid her farewell and she left your room and you sank deeper into the water, letting it soothe your sore muscles, though it didn’t do much for your stinging throat and aching chest. You brought a hand to your forehead and you felt a wave of melancholia drag you down.

There was really no way that you were going to get out of this alive. It wasn’t like Aleksander was going to burst in on his knees and confess that he’d loved you the entire time, and you highly doubted that if a Healer couldn’t help you, then you were beyond help. You rubbed your temples very slowly and let out a very long, exasperated sigh, which triggered a few coughs. Little droplets of blood flew forward into the water from your mouth and you winced as a few petals loosed themselves from your throat as well. They floated atop the hot water and you picked one of the soft, pink petals up tentatively. It looked like a rose petal. It was a rose petal. You were grateful that it was only a few soft petals this time rather than the thorns and stems you’d cough up other times. You dropped the petal back in the water and you laid your head back against the edge of the bathtub weakly.

Your chin wobbled slightly and you closed your eyes just as tears started to stream out of them. You soundlessly cried as you sat in the steaming water and you reached up to hold your hands over your face as you cried. Soon enough, your cries were no longer soundless and you sobbed into your hands. Your whole entire body hurt and you were in agony. Emotional and physical agony. You wished for it all to stop and you pulled your hands away from your face and gripped the edges of the tub as you continued to cry with your eyes squeezed shut in pain.

Your mind wandered to Aleksander, something it often did, and you gasped painfully. You could practically feel his fingers running through your hair again, and you pictured what it would have been like if he had gathered you in his slender arms instead of just messing with your hair. The thought brought you a split second of comfort before it brought on waves of pain, crashing against your chest like rogue waves in a tumultuous ocean.

Oh, you loved him. You couldn’t just stop loving him. Even though you sat and wished so desperately that you could. You gripped the edges of the tub impossibly tight and sputtered out a few heavy coughs that left your chest feeling split open. Your bathwater was tinged pink now and there was an arrangement of fragmented and full rose petals floating around in the water.

A little tap made you open your eyes and you looked up to see Aleksander standing in the doorway of your bathroom. You made a move to cover yourself but he simply shook his head.

“I’m not looking, it’s okay.” He stated, staying in the doorway.

You glanced away from him sadly and you gave him a nod. You heard his boots tap against the marble floor and you heard a bit of rustling before you turned your head towards him again to see that he was now kneeling at the side of your tub.

“You look terrible. Really, really terrible.” He commented.

“Thanks. You really know how to make someone feel great, Aleksander.” You snapped and narrowed your eyes at him.

He let out a sigh and shook his head a few times, “You’re still lovely. You just look miserable. Have you looked in a mirror recently? You look malnourished, you look poorly rested. Your face is sunken, your eyes are lifeless, you look terrible.” He explained and you laid your head down on the edge of the tub.

“I’ll be fine.” You said nonchalantly.

“Yeah, you all keep trying to tell me that but I don’t believe it all that much. Look at you. You can’t even move without it looking like it’s causing you pain.”

“What do you care?” You asked and closed your eyes, biting back a sob.

“What do I care? What do I care? Are you an imbecile? I care more than you seem to even care to imagine!” He snapped angrily and stood up abruptly.

“Whatever. I know you’d rather be with your Sun Summoner right now. Please just go.”

“Saints, you’re such a bitter thing! You knew what the Sun Summoner coming here would mean. You know what it does mean. Get over yourself, this is bigger than you and your need for attention!” He exclaimed.

Though he hadn’t, you felt as if he’d lifted you to your feet and slapped you until you fell. You slowly opened your eyes and looked up at him. Your eyes grew glossy with tears and you bit down on your cheek before you shifted your eyes away from a seething Aleksander.

“Please just go away.” You whimpered and brought your hands up to your face, hiding it from his sight.

You cried silently for a moment and you rubbed your eyes vigorously before lifting your head out of your hands to tell him once more to leave.

But he was already gone.

The week leading up to the winter fete was exhausting.

Not that you had been doing much other than laying around in your room and taking brief walks whenever Genya had a moment to accompany you outside.

Nothing had improved though.

You were still weak, still coughing, still in pain. Nothing was better, in fact, it seemed to only worsen by the day.

The day of the fete was upon you and you had argued with Genya for nearly two hours so that she’d let you go. Finally, she had conceded and told you that you could go as long as you left early and were very, very careful not to cough around anyone.

“And if you start feeling worse, you’re going right back to bed. Do you understand me?” Genya asked critically as she held a big, white box to her chest. Your dress. She was holding it hostage until you agreed to her terms.

“Yes, fine, anything! I’ve waited so long to go.” You weren’t sure why you were so excited to go to the fete. You had previously been excited to go because you’d be going with Aleksander, but of course, that wasn’t the case now. You hadn’t seen him in nearly a week. Genya told you he’d been in to check on you while you slept, but you doubted it. You doubted a lot when it came to Aleksander these last seven days.

Genya set the box down on a small table near the fireplace in your room and she opened it up, humming softly to herself as she did, “Pink? I didn’t pin you as a pink girl.”

“Well, I am one. And it’s pretty, isn’t it?” You asked and watched as she pulled the gown out from the box.

It was beautiful. It was a pale shade of blush pink with long sleeves and lots of beautiful embroidery and bead work. The dress earned you an approving sound from Genya and she looked over at you as you sat on the edge of your bed.

“It is pretty, yes. I’m a bit worried you’ll stain it.” She said and eyed you with a frown, “Are you sure you want to go? You’re still so sick. Worse, even.” She said with a frown as she walked towards you and laid the dress out on the bed at your side.

“I want to go. We can go together. Besides, I’ve been stuck in here for so long now.” You said, sighing dramatically. Your throat burned with your sigh and Genya watched as you brought your fingers to your throat.

She quickly grabbed the waste bin next to your bed and held it up to you and you grabbed it. You coughed over it painfully for a few minutes, an array of petals and a few small thorns freeing themselves from your inflicted lungs. Genya held her hand against your back comfortingly and waited for you to spit the last of the sticky blood out and then she gently took the waste bin from your hands. She passed you a glass of water from your bedside table and you sipped it, even though it felt like you were swallowing broken glass.

“Y/n, you look awful.” Genya said sadly and pushed some of your limp hair away from your face.

You knew she was right. Your entire face had sunken in and you were aware of the dark circles under your eyes. Any luster your hair or skin once had was now gone and you looked dull and lifeless. You looked almost like a walking corpse. Your nails were thin and brittle and your lips were chapped and had traces of dried blood on them. You did look awful.

Realistically, you could use your abilities and make yourself look better, but you had absolutely no energy to do so. You were lucky if you had the energy to get up and take a walk with Genya. You sighed quietly and wiped your lips with the back of your hand and shrugged once. You shakily passed the glass of water back to Genya and you rubbed your eyes.

“Will you help me get ready? Nothing fancy, I just don’t wanna look so unhealthy.” You asked quietly and she nodded a couple of times.

She leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead and then offered her hands down towards you. You accepted them gratefully and pulled yourself to your feet with her help and she passed you your dress.

“Go change, I’ll help you button up.” She prompted and you took the dress from her and wandered off towards the dressing screen in the corner of your room.

You slid behind it and undressed yourself with weak, shaking hands, and you pushed your nightdress off of your body. You tossed it aside and then took on the next task of stepping into the soft pink gown. You climbed into the dress clumsily and once you’d pulled the sleeves on and gotten it situated on your body, you wandered out from behind the screen. Genya awaited you by your bed and you made your way over to her and turned around so that the undone back of your dress faced her.

“You need to promise me one more thing.” Genya said quietly as she began to button up your dress nimbly.

“What is it?” You asked, looking back over your shoulder at the redheaded girl.

“Avoid the Darkling at all costs tonight please. Your condition worsens after he’s around, I’ve seen it. Please just, don’t seek him out, stay away from him. Have fun, mingle, have a drink, but leave him alone. For your sake, please.” She begged softly and then finished buttoning your dress.

You nodded compliantly and you ran your hands down the front of your dress, smoothing it all down before turning around to face her. You smiled up at her and she pointed at a chair in the middle of the room.

“Sit. I’ll fix up your hair and make you look a little less tired.” She said softly and you walked towards the chair. You sat down in it and you closed your eyes, a prickling becoming bothersome at the back of your throat. You swallowed it down and winced at the sharp pain sliding back down your throat.

You just had to get through tonight.

Genya stood behind you and she worked at your hair for a while until it was in simple waves. She then walked around to face you and she determinedly waved her hand over your face a few times slowly. After nearly fifteen minutes of this, she pulled away from you and handed you a hand mirror.

“I did all that I could. How do you feel about it?” She asked.

You glanced at yourself in the mirror and hummed. Though you still looked frail, you didn’t look nearly even half as bad as you had beforehand. You looked as if perhaps you hadn't slept in a few days but otherwise you seemed healthy. You looked up at her with a smile and you nodded, passing the mirror back to her.

“Thank you. Truly, thank you.” You said softly and she gave you a sweet smile in return and kissed the top of your head.

“I have to help the Queen get ready. Will you wait for me? I’ll come back and accompany you to the party.”

You looked over at her and gave her a little nod and stood up from the chair you sat in. You gave your friend a little hug and she hugged you back delicately, as if she was afraid you’d break.

“Thank you. Really, Genya. For everything.”

“Don’t start talking like that. It almost sounds like goodbye and I won’t have it. I’ll see you in an hour or two.” She stated and then marched out of your room.

Goodbye. You scoffed. You didn’t even want to think about goodbye yet.

But of course now you were faced with the reality of it all. There was no obtainable cure to your ailment. The thought of it spread dread through your body like you’d never felt before and you felt even sicker than you ever had prior to today.

A particular wave of nausea had you sprinting to the waste bin by your bed and you dropped to your knees and retched into it, your throat getting sliced up with an especially sharp slew of blood and thorns and a few battered petals. The door behind you opened and you heard a gasp from the doorway and wiped your face with the back of your hand before you turned around.

Still on your knees, you looked up to see Aleksander’s personal favorite Healer, Emilia, standing in the doorway. The two of you stared at each other for a moment before she walked towards you and gently helped you to your feet. She looked over your shoulder into the wastebasket and then she looked up at your face, her mouth making a little ‘o’. She glanced back in the bin and then she shook her head.

“Are those…?”

“Yes. They’re petals. Why are you here?” You asked and slowly sat down on the edge of your bed.

“The Darkling sent me to check on you.” She whispered and then she placed her hand on your head, feeling your temperature.

“Genya is doing a fine job on her own, thank you, Emilia.” You wheezed and then leaned your head into your hands.

She stayed put for a moment and looked back and forth between you and your bloody, flowery vomit and then she gave you a tedious nod, “Yes, okay. I’m sorry to have intruded.“ she said quietly and you gave her only a small hum in response before she scuttled out of the room, retreating as if you were some feral dog, before you could even think to stop her. You would have certainly been wise to.

You glanced at the door and felt a cold, sick dread fill your stomach. She was going to tell Aleksander.

You sat, slumped, in the chair by your fireplace and you closed your eyes, letting out labored breaths. Your chest had become impossibly tight and you sat in fear that Aleksander would burst in and berate you at any moment now.

Your eyes filled with tears at the thought of just Aleksander and you wrapped your arms around yourself. It wasn’t like you couldn’t miss him. He was, at the end of the day, your best friend. Or at least, he had been. You didn’t really know where you stood with him now.

Panic gripped your lungs when you heard hurried footsteps down the hallway and when the door swung open you winced. No yelling ensued and you turned around to see Genya standing in the doorway, gazing over at you with a little frown.

“Are you sure you’re up to this?” She asked softly as she strode towards you.

You simply gave her a little nod and you rose to your feet off of the chair and grabbed onto the hand she was now extending for you. She helped you steady yourself and she frowned once, pulling you into a gentle side hug.

“Okay. The party has already started, I hope you don’t mind. There was a… choreographed display. Of shadow and light.” She explained slowly and then glanced down at you. You knew who she was talking about. Aleksander and Alina.

She gave you a sympathetic smile and you realized your face must have fallen, “I just figured you didn’t want to have to watch them.”

“No, I appreciate it. Thank you, Genya.” You said quietly and then nodded towards the door, “Let’s go. I don’t want to be out long tonight, I don’t think.” You murmured, a frown ever present on your face.

She nodded just once and whisked you out of your room. The walk from the Little Palace to the Grand Palace was made in comfortable silence and you leaned your head against Genya’s shoulder. She wrapped her arm around your shoulders and gently patted your arm, and you let out a small sigh. As soon as the two of you walked inside of the Grand Palace, you instantly regretted coming to the fete.

People were crowded around the hallway and spilled out from the room of the event, leaving you hardly any space to breathe. You wrapped both of your arms around Genya’s and you nearly buckled under the wave of nausea that crashed over you.

Genya slowly pulled away from your side and she grabbed your hand and nodded towards the grand hall, “I’m going to go get a drink. Would you like one?” You nodded idly and she gave your hand a little squeeze, “Okay. Stay here. Don’t get around too many people.” She advised and you nodded again.

She scurried off hurriedly down the hall and you looked down at your dress. You ran your fingers down the embroidered bodice and you let out a little sigh. You sorely regretted not staying in bed and you looked around at the other partygoers. Some were drunk, others were just boisterous. Most hid their sordidness underneath fine clothes and expensive perfumes. You looked down at your feet and felt guilty for making Genya drag you to the party and you turned to go find her.

“Y/n!”

You turned around to see Alina bustling towards you with two guards in tow behind her. You had to blink back the urge to cry when you saw her. She wore a black kefta with yellow and gold embroidery and her hair was done up beautifully. The nausea hit you harder and you held your hand over your stomach instinctively, giving her a terse smile.

“Hello.” You breathed and leaned back up against the wall behind you.

“You look beautiful.” She commented sweetly, “Feeling better?” She asked and you gave her a bleary nod.

“Mhm, so much better.” You mumbled and sucked in a deep breath through your nose. A sharp feeling began to climb the back of your throat and you began to panic.

“I’m glad to hear, you look so pretty. I’ve missed you readying me.” She admitted and then chuckled nervously.

One of the guards leaned forward and mumbled something in her ear and she frowned, but nodded.

“I have to get going. But please, come see me tomorrow.” She pleaded and you gave her a simple nod, your throat and chest beginning to ache and burn all the same.

The guards urged her forward and everything began to sound as if you were underwater. You stared off absentmindedly after Alina and frowned deeply. Aleksander strode down the hall towards her and his eyes fell upon you. His stern expression seemed to falter a bit when he looked at you and you glanced down at the bundle of flowers he had in his hands. Your eyes filled with tears involuntarily and you watched as he stopped the guards that stood with Alina and he passed her the flowers before he locked eyes with you again.

Your face burned with shame and sadness and your vision began to blur and shift and you pushed away from the wall dizzily, ignoring the muffled shouts of your name coming from his mouth. You shoved past a few people and gathered the skirts of your dress up in one hand and you rushed down the hallway. You stopped briefly a few times to steady yourself against the wall and you felt a sickening pressure at the back of your throat. You just had to make it back to your room.

You carried on almost deliriously and you made your way into the nearly totally empty Little Palace. You bustled up the stairs with your hand over your mouth when a sharp cough ripped its way up your throat and you heaved forward, falling to your knees on the stairs as you coughed violently. Tears burned in your eyes and fell down your cheeks helplessly as you spewed the hot, metallic mixture of your blood and bile over your gloved hand. You crawled up the stairs weakly and you pushed yourself to your feet, leaving a bloody smear on the marble floor. You stumbled hurriedly down the hall to your room and you threw your door open as soon as you could. You fell to your knees again and let out a long, sad wail before you were coughing out thorns and petals all over the pristine skirt of your dress.

The flowery vomit looked even worse tonight, and the blood mixed in with it was darker and there was much more of it. You coughed and heaved and choked on whatever was in your throat until an entire rose bloom came hurtling out of your mouth. You stared down at it shakily and reached out to touch it before you coughed again, much harder this time. Blood flew from your open mouth all over your carpet and your dress and your chin and you cried loudly, lowering yourself to the floor weakly. You reached up shakily to wipe your eyes with the back of your hand and you looked around at the bloody mess you had made and you whimpered.

You thought about Aleksander again as you coughed more, your chest feeling as if it was going to collapse at any moment. You missed him. You desperately wished it was you that he gave his affections to. You loved him. It became impossibly hard to breathe and you could see black spots dancing in your vision and you could swear you heard him calling out for you; Something so bittersweet that brought you so much comfort as you laid in a mess of your own blood and shredded flower petals. Your heart pounded against your chest and you could feel cold exhaustion climbing up around your mind. You could still hear his voice, closer now. You weren’t sure if you were ready to die, but at least you could try and make peace with it. You drew in a labored breath and then found yourself gasping in fear as you felt two hands grip your arms.

You were yanked up against somebody and you slowly looked upwards to see Aleksander kneeling over you, holding you against his chest.

“Say something, dammit!” He ordered, but his voice sounded far away.

You tried to speak his name but your chest seemed to collapse in on itself and you turned your head to cough away from him, not wanting to get any blood on him. As soon as you finished coughing, he gripped your chin and turned your head towards his and he stared down at you wildly.

“Y/n, I really, really need you to say something.” He pleaded and you weren’t sure if you were imagining the glint of unshed tears in his eyes or not.

You let out another wail and you tried to push away from him, but his arms were like steel around you and you were too weak to even attempt to get away from him, so you resigned to crying in his arms.

“Aleksander.” You wheezed and weakly grabbed onto the lapel of his kefta.

“Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you tell me it was this bad?” He demanded and cradled you gently against his chest.

“You don’t care!” You cried, finding your very, very weak voice suddenly.

“I do care!”

“You don’t! You just care about Alina, you want Alina, you need Alina, you’re in love with Alina. You don’t care, and I don’t expect you to. Why should you? It’s my own miserable fault for falling in love with you.” You sobbed and felt as if you were going to vomit again.

Aleksander didn’t say a single word. Instead, he leaned down until his forehead was touching yours and he nudged his nose against yours just slightly. You fought to get away from him, but he didn’t allow you to move. He shushed you softly as you cried and attempted to get as far away from him as possible and you sobbed, grabbing at his wrists.

“Stop! Please just leave me alone! I can’t take this.” You cried and hit his chest, but he still didn’t move.

Tears rolled down your cheeks and you sniffled and eventually stopped trying to get away from him. He seemed to want to make it hard for you until your bitter end. One of his hands was gently moving through your hair as it had many nights ago and you whimpered, a sound that broke his heart.

“I care. More than you know, little love.” He murmured and kept his forehead pressed against yours, “You think I don’t care? How could I not? You are so special to me.”

You cried and subconsciously leaned into his touch as he ran his fingers through your hair.

“Please stop.” You begged. You wanted to cover your ears.

“Stop what? Do you not want to hear how I care? How I feel ashamed of myself for making you feel as if I don’t? Do you not want to hear about how in love with you I am?” He asked in a whisper and you froze. His hand continued to sweep through your hair and you let out a loud cry and struggled against his arms as he lifted his forehead away from yours.

“You’re lying.” You sobbed and brought your hands up to your face as you cried into them.

“I’d never lie to you about something like this.” He insisted softly.

“You are lying.”

“How can you accuse me of that?” He asked, his tone incredulous.

“Because I’m dying! I’m dying and you know it’s what I want to hear!” You argued, but you let your head fall against his chest nonetheless.

“I don’t lie. I’ve never lied to you. Saints, you’re inconsolable. I have my own reasons for getting close to Alina, but none of them are even close to being because I’m in love with her. No, my love is saved for you and you alone.” He murmured, “I have loved you for years. Ages. For so long, hoping and praying that perhaps you’d see me in the same light one day. I never wished for it to be like this.” He finished, voice breaking just slightly at the end.

You felt the tightness in your chest ease up just a little bit and you pulled your head away from his chest so that you could look up at him, only to find him already gazing down at you. You studied his face for any sign that he might be lying to you and when you found none you leaned your head against the side of his arm. You weakly nuzzled your cheek against it and you could hear him let out a long sigh.

“Are you going to tell me what is wrong with you? Or are you just going to leave that to my Healer relaying information to me?” He asked and you shrugged once, more pressure leaving your chest.

You let out a pathetic sounding sigh and you clung to him as if someone was going to take him from you and you quietly began to explain your condition to him, leaving little to nothing out. When you finished, the silence around the two of you was painful and you looked up at his face. He seemed angry and he seemed as if he was going to cry, but he looked down and met your eyes, and everything on his face melted into sadness.

“I did this to you?” He asked quietly and you shook your head.

“You couldn’t possibly have known. I mean, I didn’t. None of us did until Genya found it in a book.” You murmured and he gathered you entirely against his chest.

“I’m so, so sorry.” He breathed, his voice practically trembling.

“No, please. Don’t be sorry. It’s okay, everything is okay now.” You said hoarsely and he shook his head once but didn’t argue further.

He stayed quiet for a moment before he sniffled and then slowly rose to his feet, pulling you with him, “Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah? And then you can lay in my room.” He suggested quietly.

“Okay.” You whispered, leaning against him entirely.

You sat in Aleksander’s bed an hour or two later, wrapped in a few thick blankets. You watched him scurry around his room as he tried to ready himself for bed and you smiled affectionately. After a moment he turned to you and let out a small sigh.

“What are you smiling at? You should be sleeping.”

“Can’t. Not without you.” You murmured and he blew out a few candles in the room before he came and crawled into bed next to you, his arms snaking around your waist. He tugged you against his chest protectively and he let out a long sigh.

Your damp hair was splayed out over the pillow behind your head and you pushed it away from him, clearing a little space for his head on your pillow. He took the hint and scooted his face closer to yours and he nudged his nose against yours a few times.

“You looked so beautiful tonight. In the hallway. In your pretty dress. I think pink might be your color now.” He said sweetly and you shook your head, leaning in to peck his lips a few times.

He took the opportunity to capture your lips in a deep, long kiss and finally when the two of you were properly breathless, you pulled away and shook your head.

“Forget pink. Black looks nicer on me, anyway .”

#aleksander morozova imagine #aleksander morozova #aleksander morozova x reader #aleksander morozova x you #the darkling x you #the darkling x reader #the darkling imagine #the darkling imagine #the darkling #general kirigan imagine #general kirigan x reader #general kirigan #shadow and bone imagine #grishaverse #shadow and bone #ben barnes x reader #ben barnes imagine

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nuemanfilms · 1 month ago

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Problem | S.W

Summary when Sam and Dean are stumped on a case, Dean dials your number for help despite knowing how things ended between you and Sam. Atleast you both didn’t have any hard feelings.

Warnings unprotected piv (wrap it), praise, creampie, car sex, semi-public sex, pet names (Baby, Sweetheart), Riding, Boners in awkward situations, fem!user, angsty start, mentions of self hatred, mentions of the breakup, Dean being Dean, not really a sub/dom dynamic between the two, 2k words, let me know if i missed anything!

A/n deans kinda the cupid LMAO, this was so fun to write. Comments and reblogs are appreciated <3

16+ I am not responsible for the content you consume under that age.

The case that Sam and Dean were assigned wasn’t exactly as easy as they initially thought. Sam wasn’t exactly that focused on it anyways, and Dean could see that guilt that Sam had attempted to his for months.

Ever since Sam broke things off with you, he regretted every moment of it as each day went past. He remembered how the tears stained your cheeks, he remembered how he was the one who made them appear in the first place. And he hated every single second of it. He thought he was protecting you, he wanted to protect you. Just, he didn’t want to upset you in that way, that wasn’t the way he intended.

He really was a dumbass wasn’t he?

You always helped him and Dean through cases, you were the one who kept Sam at bay when he woke up in the middle of the night from a nightmare. You kept Sam grounded, and losing you was one of the worst mistakes he’d made since losing Jessica.

You were there for him when he needed it, and Sam mentally kicked himself everyday for hurting you that night. He didn’t think he could forgive himself.

Dean saw the way Sam’s demeanor changed, he saw the look of guilt and regret on his younger brother’s face when he walked back into the motel room. And he hated every second of seeing Sam like that.

Dean probably shouldn’t have interfered, but the brothers were both stumped on this case. Sam’s lack of focus didn’t exactly help either. So, Dean called you.

“Why would you call her, Dean? She probably doesn’t want to even see me.” Dean sighed at his brother’s wrecked state.

“Sam, as much as I know you regret it, this could give you a chance. Well, both of you have a chance to fix things.” Dean tried to explain, yet Sam just argued.

“She probably hates me.” Sam held his face in his hands, his head was already starting to throb just at the thought of your possible hatred against him.

“She doesn’t. She wouldn’t have agreed to come if she did, okay?” Sam looked up at Dean, mentally cursing himself for knowing that his brother was right.

When Sam was about to respond, the doorknob twisted. Your figure stepping into the motel room.

You looked better than when he last saw you. He looked at you. Seeing that your eyes were already trained on him had him feeling something he couldn’t identify himself. But what he could make out from your gaze was that there was no anger behind your irises.

He wanted to greet you, but the words were stuck in his throat. Sam didn’t even know how to begin. He was lost in his thoughts before Dean interrupted, “There’s a house a few blocks from here, the last thing that anyone witnessed was around there.”

Making the way out the door to the Impala made Sam keep his eyes on the concrete before he finally got to the passenger side. He didn’t even know if you wanted to speak to him, and he highly doubted that you did.

The car ride seemed agonizingly slow, the silence was loud, even though the sound of radio was heard, Sam couldn’t pull himself out of his thoughts until the car came to a stop. He sighed, opening the door hesitantly to step out. He could feel your eyes on him, but he was too scared to look back.

When the door opened and shut behind you and the brothers, you could already feel the strange aura of the house.

“You two, go look upstairs. I’ve got down.”

Sam tensed, yet he complied. His footsteps cautious as you followed behind him.

The walk was silent before you spoke up, startling Sam.

“I don’t hate you for what happened, y’know.” Your voice was quiet, but Sam heard it. His shoulders slightly relaxed before he had the courage to respond, “You should, I was a dick to you that night.” He muttered, you stopped in front of him.

“Sam,” He finally made eye contact with you, your gaze was soft.

“I know- I know things didn’t end ideally, but do you really think that I think that low of you?” Sam remembered that tone, the tone that you used when he always talked down to himself. He knew how that annoyed you.

“I didn’t want it to go like that, I didn’t want you to get hurt because of what.. we do.” He admitted, before you could respond he pulled you into the small space of a closet. Slapping his hand against your mouth to keep you quiet. Whatever that creature was, it was most likely about to get you both.

You could’ve protested, you could’ve made Sam let you go, but you didn’t. You relaxed against his chest, not even bothering to move.

The feel of you against his body again, even if it was clothed, it felt relieving knowing that he had you in his arms again. Despite the situation that you both were in.

He carefully lifted his hand from your mouth, letting out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding in. He didn’t realize that the closet was this small until he tried to move away from you. Only to be met with the wall.

“Sam,” You whispered, he didn’t respond. You started again, “Sam!” he snapped his head towards you, seeing your hand on the door knob.

“It’s jammed.” You sighed, he internally cursed himself, he should’ve known. You’d both have to wait until Dean found you both after killing the creature.

This wasn’t exactly the appropriate time for him to think those thoughts, but in his defense, it’d been months since he’d even seen you, or have you pressed this close against him. He could feel the body heat radiating from your much smaller frame.

Your ass pressing against his front, despite it being accidental, had him cursing his hormones for even forming the bulge in his jeans. He prayed that you couldn’t feel it, but the universe never really was on his side.

“Sam..” he froze, you definitely felt him pressing against you. He had to prepare himself mentally for your next words, “Do you seriously have a boner right now? Out of all times?” You knew he couldn’t exactly control it, but you also found it a little funny that his body would have this reaction in the most inappropriate situation ever.

“I- I can’t help it..” He had to stifle a groan when you pressed further back against him, “Stop. Stop moving-“ His hands flew to grab your hips in an attempt to still them. He was grateful that the closet was dark enough so you couldn’t see his flushed face.

He could already imagine the teasing smile appearing on your lips. Could this seriously get any worse?

“Just- Dean’s going to find us soon, can you try and ignore it? Please?” He pleaded, and he heard your small laugh, “Yeah, sure.” You had to suppress your laughter, you both didn’t exactly need to get caught by whatever was lurking anyways.

Finally, after at least a few moments, Dean found you both. He already had a smirk curling on his lips when he saw you guys’ compromising position.

“You two look… cozy.” Dean teased, “Shut up, Dean.” Sam grumbled, he had expected that smile on your lips that was forming.

The walk to the Impala was torturous, between trying to ignore his brother’s teasing and trying to get his little problem under control.

The drive was nearly worse. And of course, Dean was pulling into a bar. The engine shutting off had Sam sighing in relief.

“Are you both staying here?” Dean checked, Sam definitely wasn’t prepared for your response.

“Yeah, go.” Damn it, that shit-eating grin on Dean’s face made Sam mumble something under his breath. When the car door shut, you waited for Dean to get at least closer to the bar door before you spoke, “Is your problem still an issue?” Sam froze, this time he was stiff enough to be seen as a statue. He gulped before whispering a response, “Uh, N-No?” He stuttered, you hummed in response. Climbing from the backseat into the front and taking your place in his lap. His legs parted slightly on instinct.

“Do you know how hard it’s been to sit in that damn apartment without you? How annoying it is to lay back in my bed without you there to help me come?” He was taken aback by your words, but you always were bold on what you wanted.

Sam could stop the words that flew from his mouth, “I- please.” Your eyebrows shot up, even though that was exactly what you wanted to hear, you were still surprised. When you grinded your hips against his now more obvious bulge, his hands now gripped on your hips faster than before. You knew the effect you had on him, and he let out a soft moan from his parted lips.

You leaned in, just a few millimeters away from his lips. Your breath hitting his lips made him finally press his own against yours. You were still for a minute before melting into it, your lower half pressed more firm against his pelvis. Your hands traveled to his now grown out locks, your fingers giving them a tug had him letting out a groan against your lips.

You pulled back for a moment to slide your shirt over your head, sliding your shorts down as best as you could leaving you in lace. You planned this didn’t you? Sam should’ve known, yet he was too focused on your lips back against his to even give a damn.

His hands roamed over your body, his lips trailing down from your own to press open-mouthed kisses to your skin as he worked his way down to your collarbone. You moaned, your hands eagerly working on his belt to get him freed from his confines.

“Fuck, you should’ve called sooner.” He smirked against your flesh, “If I did, I wouldn’t be able to have you like this right now.” You slid his belt out of the loops, your fingers pulling down the zipper. You were getting aroused yourself, you already were on the car ride.. but you were practically soaking your panties now.

When he met your lips again, your hand had already slithered its way into his boxers. You took his length in your palm and he let a groan slip past his lips. His lips parted just the slightest and he felt your tongue enter his mouth. The kiss becoming messy, but it still held so much passion and desperation that was pent up for the months spent apart.

He pulled away for a second, looking down as you lined him up with your entrance.

“Are you-“

“Yeah, yeah I'm on the pill.” He was about to let out a sigh of relief before he felt you sinking down on his cock. Fuck, he missed this.

He kissed you again, trying to distract you a little from the stretch of him filling you again. You were still the best he’d ever had. You gasped against his lips as he bottomed out.

“Sam..” You whined, it’d been so long. Normally he would have prepared you with his fingers, but he knew you were both too desperate for foreplay.

“Shh, you’re taking me- fuck, taking me so well, hm? ‘S okay, baby.. it’s gonna feel good soon, okay?” He cooed, you bit your lip. The fact that anyone could have seen you both slipped past your minds.

After a few moments, you lifted yourself up before finally sinking back down. Setting a pace yourself with his hand going down to assist you while the other trailed down to your puffy button. Your moans were pornographic, it’s not like Sam’s noises were any less vulgar. Despite the small space of the impala, you always managed to make it work as it wasn’t exactly you guys’ first time doing this.

“Yeah- atta’ girl.. see? Feels good, doesn’t it?” He finished the sentence with a moan of his own. You nodded your head, but you knew he wanted words. He always did, and you didn’t hesitate to provide.

“So good, Sammy- feel so good inside m’ pussy..” You praised, he groaned at your filthy use of words. He bucked his hips up involuntarily and you let out a cry. The creamy ring forming at his shaft had him holding back his impending orgasm just at the sight of it. He wanted you to come first, he wanted to feel you let go.

“Mm, yeah- that’s it.. good girl.” You let out a sound between a moan and a whine at his encouragement. Sex had always been so pleasurable between the two of you. You always fit together perfectly.

When your moans became more drawn out, he knew you were close. The way your hips were stuttering, requiring his help to keep you moving, and the way you hid your face in his neck.

“Nono.. let me see you. Let me see your pretty face, hm? Let me see my girl when she comes..” You lifted your head, your lips were swollen from his kisses, and the pleasure was getting so much especially with his two fingers rubbing at your clit with no intention of slowing.

“Can I? Can I come, Sammy?” You pleaded, you always begged so nicely, how could he refuse that?

“Yeah, Sweetheart. C’mon, let me feel you squeezing me..” You stilled for a moment, the steamy, hot pleasure rushing to your core had you crying out his name as you came. He wasn’t that far behind. He helped you ride out your orgasm, his fingers drawing away from your bud so both hands could help your movements on his cock. He let out more groans, and finally emptied himself inside of your abused cunt.

“Shit, Baby..” Your breathing both heavy as you attempted to calm down from your orgasms. Sam grabbed some random napkin from the dashboard to help clean you up at least for the time being. He’d properly clean you when you were both at the motel.

You whined as he lifted you off his cock, his release threatening to spill. Luckily, your panties were back on before it could. He helped you into the backseat as he then tucked himself back in his boxers, zipping up his jeans. He’d fasten his belt later. He quickly exited the car to enter the backseat. Carefully sitting in the spot next to you.

Your head leaned into his chest, he smiled at your content, satisfied state. Knowing he was the one who caused it had washed the guilt from earlier clean.

“Won’t let you go this time, promise.” You smiled, “Good, because I'm not leaving anytime soon.”

#sam winchester smut #supernatural #fem!reader #sam winchester #jared padalecki #sam winchester x female reader #sam winchester x reader

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catscidr · 1 month ago

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˖ ࣪⊹ ౨ৎ 𝐤!𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐤 𝟏: 𝐠𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐤!𝐧𝐤 // — 𝐟𝐭. 𝐝𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫!𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐚𝐤𝐮/𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐳𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐢.

i. note — OFF TO A ROUGH START the kenny/geto fic ended up being a whopping 4,5k so i edited it down to be roughly 2k (the full ver is gonna be on ao3 though!) so if the writing seems funky That's Why + im still not completely used to writing smut yet. similar thing kinda happened w zhongli but i went fuck it we ball so im sry if the smut feels short bare with me. im stressed. ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ ) anyways pls enjoy and happy kinktober lads ii. includes — amab!kenjaku (geto's appearance), zhongli. afab!reader iii. cw — kinda mean dom!kenjaku, he's referred to as suguru for Reasons, dubcon bc power dynamics, manipulation, teasing, fingering, dirty talk, one singular cl!t slap, praise and degradation, he's a yapper. -> can very well be read as a mean!suguru/reader if u choose to ignore that one line about his forehead lol — soft dom!zhongli, hu tao cameo, praise, fingering, some whimpering, piv, implied multiple orgasms, a lil breathplay, he nuts dubiously fast, implied round 2 iv. wc — 4,3k -> ao3 link for the full kenjaku fic here!

— 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮 𝐆./𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐚𝐤𝐮.

“So, according to your medical records, you’ve never had a pap smear. Is that correct?”

Your blood runs cold. Shit, I didn’t think he would bring THAT up during a normal, unassuming routine checkup. I’m so fucked.

“Ah, um... no, I haven’t,” you respond sheepishly, clenching your teeth so hard you wonder if he can tell just how hard you’re trying not to bolt out of the door.

If he wasn’t a medical professional, Suguru would have made a fine actor; and so, as all normal doctors do, he belts you with numerous questions you loathe answering, one of them being the infamous;

“Are you sexually active?”

Swallowing down the urge to flee the scene, away from those stupid fluorescent lights and that irritating cleaning solution smell, you answer as normally as you possibly can. “I have been, but-”

“Have you been made aware that all female bodies that have been sexually active should get a pap smear as soon as they turn 21?” he adds, jotting something down in his notes—your personal file, you assume.

You gulp, internally thinking of excuses to worm into the conversation. “I have, yes. But Doctor Ieiri told m-”

“I’m sorry, but I am not Doctor Ieiri. I want the best for my patients, even if some procedures can be uncomfortable. That’s just the way life is; but I’ll do my best to accommodate your needs.” Suguru gives you a patient smile and a nod, though he was firm and, honestly, quite stubborn.

Relenting, you murmur a quiet ‘okay’, already justifying this, telling yourself that it could be worse. You could be getting a pap smear from an old man that still believe women shouldn’t be allowed ibuprofen when getting an IUD inserted.

“Great! Then please take off your pants and underwear. I’ll step out to give you some privacy.” Suguru flashes you an award-winning smile as he leaves the vicinity, drawing back the light curtain that separated his actual office to the examination room.

All blood drains from your being as you listen to the sound of his footsteps fading, and instead you’re met with heavy, oppressive silence.

...

You knew getting a pap smear would be uncomfortable, that much was a given, but you didn’t think it would be near as humiliating as this. Doctors witness people both inside AND out, day and night; so pray tell, why were you sweating bullets at the prospect of your doctor doing his job? Was it because he was infuriatingly attractive and the thought of someone like him performing your pap smear was enough to get your blood rushing south?

(Obviously.)

“You’re doing great,” he coos encouragingly. “Do you need a moment?”

You blink away the tears that glossed your eyes, and nod sheepishly. He flashes you a smile and gently pulls out the speculum. You wince, but the sting wears off quickly. As a silent apology, he slides the hand that rested on your stomach down until it reaches your pelvis and applies slight pressure.

“Deep breaths.”

You inhale slowly, eyes fluttering shut. Right when you started to feel calmer, you jolt; his thumb brushes against your clit, a movement that seemed too calculated to be an accident. Your eyes snap open and as you look down, you’re met with his eyes piercing into yours as he continuously rubs you, almost casually.

“W-Wha-”

He shushes you by pressing his thumb down firmly, earning himself a nice, breathy whimper.

“You need to relax. Let me take care of you,” he murmurs, lips curling upwards.

Your eyes zero in on the way his thumb smears your slick all over your clit— and his hand. You’re so wet that you can hear your pleasure, squelching noises violating your ears with the repetitive movements of his thumb, and you feel the coil inside of you tighten in tandem with his fingers. Tighter and tighter, aggressively shoving you towards your rapidly incoming climax.

And God the latex of his glove rubs against your skin so deliciously. Your hips roll up to meet his hand for more stimulation you don’t even think you can handle. You’re so lost in the pleasure he’s giving you that you don’t even notice how desperate you look until he laughs, the noise sounding so incredibly sweet in your ears despite your humiliating predicament.

Straightening his back, Suguru breaks eye contact to peer down at your slick cunt. “You’re dripping so much it’s getting on the table. Did you even notice you were this aroused, or were you too focused on drilling holes into me to realize it?” He scoffs, decidedly amused at the sight of your pussy clenching around nothing while he continues to stimulate your needy clit.

You want to deny his (correct) assumptions, to pull away and leave this damn building until further notice, but God was he skilled with his hands. His fingers were dangerous, lethal even.

“I’m n-”

Your breath hitches when he smacks your clit, his sharp brows furrowing as he sneers at you and your blissful expression betraying what you wished to say. It shouldn’t, but the sight turns you on in a way you’d never say without squirming in shame. “Don’t lie to me now. How long have you been wet for?”

Shaking your head, you purse your lips in a tight line, ashamed to admit that you had been ever since he first started the examination.

Scoffing, he stands up, towering over you from between your legs. He leans over you, cupping your face as he forces his thumb past your lips, making you taste yourself and the polymer fabric of the glove on his thumb.

“You didn’t think I’d notice? You started fidgeting quite a lot once I started the checkup. Was it the proximity? Do you find me so attractive you forget how to act normally?” he gloats, pushing his thumb down onto your tongue. Looking up at him through dewy eyelashes, you swallow the saliva that pools in your mouth.

He grins, lowering his face closer to yours; some strands of his hair come undone from the bun, and you feel drawn to his gaze. You can’t look away—neither figuratively or literally. You stare into his eyes, drinking in the sight of his picturesque features, and that painful-looking but intriguing scar running across his forehead.

(You’re not sure you would look away even if you had a choice, anyways.)

“Do you have a fetish for doctors or something? How filthy,” he croons. “Or is it my gloves? Do you like feeling my hands prodding at your cunt? And here I was, trying to be useful.” When you whimper around the thumb in your mouth, he knows he’s guessed correctly.

(He’s so pretty. Vague images of him—his hands—appear in your mind. You want him to pin your wrists together while he fingerfucks you, you want him to wrap a hand around your throat while he scissors you open, you want—)

He uses his free hand to glide it between your legs and slides his fingers up and down your slit to collect your juices. It drips down his fingers, past the polymer of his glove down to the porcelain skin beneath it. “I bet there isn’t going to be any resistance when I slide my fingers in,” he pulls out his thumb from your mouth and smears your saliva on your lips, then cups your cheeks with said hand. “Want to find out?”

You gasp when he pushes his ring and middle fingers inside simultaneously as your walls flutter so nicely around them—with the dexterity of, well, a doctor, he quickly finds that spongy spot inside of you and abuses it until you’re a writhing, squirmy mess.

Moans slip freely from your tender lips, a cacophony of wet slaps and ‘ah! ah!’’s echo in the room while Suguru drinks in the sight of your body submitting up to him.

“There you go, wasn’t this worth putting your trust in me?” he uses the opportunity to slip two fingers inside of your mouth with the hand that held your face, muffling your slutty moans. “Aren’t you glad you let me do your pap smear? Aren’t you glad I could tell how badly you wanted this?”

A choked whimper rips through you when he begins to use his thumb to rub your clit at the same time as he bullies his fingers in your wet pussy. His lips stretch into a sinister grin as he watches you struggle to catch your breath; you were so overwhelmed your head spun, oxygen failing you.

You latch your hands around his forearm and wrist as you try to squirm away from the overwhelming pleasure; though your attempts are in vain. “P-Please! I can-can't take much... more...!” you manage to choke out.

He laughs, his own breathing becoming shallower and shallower the more he pushes you near the edge of your orgasm. “I don’t care, I’ll make you take it if I have to. Come on, you can be good for me, can’t you?”

You drool around the fingers he kept in your mouth as tears threaten to slide down your cheeks, overwhelmed with how much he kept rubbing you from the inside and out. Cracking your eyes open, you take a peek at the mess between your legs, and immediately clench around him when you catch but a glimpse of the mix of dried and wet slick on his blue glove.

He notices and slows down the rhythm of his fingers thrusting inside you, letting you catch your breath for a moment. “So filthy,” he hums condescendingly. “Since you love my hands so much, you won’t mind cleaning them off, right?”

Your poor, fucked-out brain doesn’t have the time to process what he meant before you whine at the loss of his thick fingers inside your cunt and then are immediately met with those same fingers thrust past your lips, making you gag around them. The tangy taste of your juices hits your tastebuds as you wrap your tongue around them, dutifully doing as he asked.

His sharp eyes meet your own cloudy ones, seemingly satisfied. “Good girl,” he coos. “Who would have known that someone like you would get off to sucking off a glove.” You whine, holding onto his free hand to bring it between your legs, batting your eyelashes up at him needily.

“Hm? Does my filthy little patient want to cum?” You shudder as he drags his fingers up and down your cunt, collecting your slick to flick your clit. You choke around the fingers in your mouth, whining, almost crying, and your eyelids flutter shut, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you finally surrender yourself to him.

“Of course she does.” He plunges three fingers inside your cunt, bullying them in and out over and over and over until you can’t even lick and suck on his fingers anymore. You’re too busy letting out loud moans as he abuses your sweet spot endlessly; long forgotten are the worries that plagued your mind earlier. All you could think of was Suguru, Suguru, Suguru.

A shudder runs down his spine as he watches you writhe in pleasure, and for a moment he imagines just how much worse you would look if he had teased your tits or kissed you until you couldn’t breathe. If the tip of his cock kissed your g-spot instead of his fingers.

(Maybe he should bribe the secretary and make her schedule your next doctor’s visit with him instead of Ieiri.)

“That’s it, come on. Cum on my fingers.” Your lips wrap around the fingers in your mouth, teeth grazing them just barely as you try to contain your moans.

Unable to contain yourself any longer, you clench around his gloved fingers as he continuously rubs up into your sweet spot. The coil in your abdomen snaps; slick gushes out of you, forming a thin sheen on his fingers.

“F-Fuck—!” With trembling thighs, you gush and moan; Suguru pulls his hand away from your face, cooing sweet nothing into your ears that your brain can’t even process while thrusting his digits into you at a slower pace to drag out your orgasm. After almost wringing his fingers dry with how hard you came, you lay numb on the examination bed, chest heaving while you try to catch your breath and come to your senses.

Your eyelids flutter open just in time to watch your doctor lick his gloved fingers clean, humming as he tastes your juices. “Sweet,” he hums, never breaking eye contact with you. “Here, since you loved them so much.” With swift movements, he tosses his gloves on your chest, grinning at your astonished expression.

“Well, nothing’s wrong with you,” he says as he stands tall, rolling his shoulders to lessen the strain from being hunched over you for a solid ten minutes. When you respond with nothing but a quiet, blissed-out ‘huh’ he scoffs, decidedly amused.

He clarifies, voice light and casual. “The pap smear. Nothing abnormal in there.”

Feeling your face heat up, you’re unsure if you should curse out or thank Doctor Ieiri for taking a vacation at the same time you needed to schedule your annual checkup.

— 𝐙𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐢.

You don’t know what you’ve done in your past life for Celestia to reward you with the most caring, loving boyfriend in the world but you’re not complaining—not one bit.

Even something as banal as waking up next to him is a blessing in it of itself; watching his hair drape over bare shoulders, locks shimmering like a river of gold beneath the sun’s rays peeking through your curtains—you could die happy if it meant dying at his side.

You get to admire him when he goes through his—your morning routine. Brushing your teeth together, cooking and then eating breakfast together, basking in the lively sounds of the city beneath your patio as you engage in easy, comfortable conversation with none other than Rex Lapis while you eat.

The one thing you’re certain you would never tire of—not that you’d get tired of anything when it came to him either way—is watching him get dressed.

There’s something so comforting and entirely domestic when it comes to helping your lover slip out of his pajamas and into his day clothes. Kisses are a common form of currency between you two, exchanged gingerly when you hand him an article of clothing. He never fails to make you feel loved, and you bask in the affection like a cat sprawled out beneath a window on a sunny afternoon.

Though, one sure-fire way to obliterate the cozy atmosphere within your flat is, you’ve recently discovered, to stare at Zhongli just a liiittle bit too hard when he gets dressed.

Specifically, his arms and hands.

Strong, scarred biceps that used to reshape the mountains of Liyue leading to elegant, lithe fingers. Sleeves that hide intricate, delicate black and grey markings on his arms that fade into a rich golden yellow, adorned with veins of the same color that make him look even more expensive than he already does.

But when he adds the finishing touch and slips on those pretty gloves with his rings?

It’s like you just defy all normal bodily functions and start ovulating even if you’re nowhere near that part of your cycle.

“Dearest? You’ve been zoning out a lot lately, is everything alright?”

...Though, of course, Zhongli hasn’t been up to date with your newly raging hormones because how are you supposed to tell him you can’t help popping a metaphorical boner every time he puts his gloves on.

“You’re fi—I mean, I’m fine! Yes. Everything’s okay!”

He is the concept of temptation itself. You’re certain that if you had a dick, you would have passed out cold on the floor from your blood rushing down to your hard-on every time you merely lay eyes on his beautiful self.

And it’s gotten even worse these last couple of days; all because he cupped your cheek one morning before he left for the funeral parlor, and left a salacious kiss on your lips that left more than just your usual desire brewing in your abdomen. The material of his gloves left your skin feeling pleasantly tingly for a reason you couldn’t explain.

….Those stupid gloves.

“I can tell something’s bothering you.” Long legs stride over the bed as he closes the distance between you two. “What’s wrong?”

He’s half-dressed, with his tie slung around his nape and both his vest and tailored coat lying flat on your shared bed, next to where you sat. You sheepishly avoid eye-contact; with how perceptive he is, you wouldn’t be surprised if he hit you with a nonchalant ‘hey babe are you turned on because of my hands and gloves?’

No.

Yes.

“It’s nothing,” you hum. “You should finish getting dressed, don’t you have a meeting in half an hour? Director Hu won’t be happy if you-”

Zhongli places his thumb and forefinger on and beneath your chin, gently tilting your head up to meet his gaze. “That’s not what I asked, darling.” You suppress a gasp; but focusing on anything but the scrumptious man in front of you is a task more daunting than Sisyphus having to carry that stupid boulder up that stupid mountain.

“Promise you won’t laugh.” Your voice comes out so meek you fear he might make you repeat yourself, but ever the gentleman, Zhongli merely hums, coaxing you to continue. “I won’t,” he says softly.

You swallow, clearing out your throat before speaking. “It’s, uh,” you murmur. “Your gloves are... nice...”

Unable to hold his gaze, you look away. The warmth of the morning sun beating on your back isn’t entirely helping your situation, as beads of sweat form at your hairline from the sheer pressure he kept over you. Curse his Archon blood.

But Zhongli merely stares, lids relaxed as he tries to dissect you with his eyes. “They are, thank you,” he chuckles quietly, lips curling up into a soft smile. “Are you sure that’s everything, though? You know you can tell me anything, right my dear?”

“Um,” you deflate, partly wishing for that to be the end of it. “...Are you sure you won’t laugh?”

“I promise,” he confirms.

Huffing, you internally think of how much mora you would have to take out of your savings to get a name change and disappear off the face of Teyvat if he ends up going back on his promise.

“Your gloves,” you reiterate slowly. “I like them. A lot.”

He blinks, expression entirely unchanging as he keeps staring. He tilts his head, wordlessly expressing complete and utter confusion.

“They’re, uh... I’m just.” You clench and unclench your hands at your sides, too aware of his calm breathing compared to your erratic heartbeat. “...Youmakemehorny.”

With your fists clenching the sheets and your gaze firmly planted on the wall, you fail to notice the amused quirk of his lips and his shoulders bobbing up and down from holding in his laugh. “What was that?”

You exhale sharply as your lips press into a tight line, but his patience greatly outweighs your own and you fold. “Your gloves turn me on! It’s hot! When you wear them!”

True to his word, Zhongli doesn’t laugh—not a peep. You do think you hear a chuckle leave his lips though, but when you finally glance at him again, you’re met with a look that might have made you implode on the spot if this were your first time together. “Zhongli—”

“Thank you for being open with me, my dear,” he cuts you off smoothly, leaning down to press a chaste kiss on your lips. Pulling away slowly, he looks at you with such intensity that you fear for your legs in the future. “Shall I reward you?”

...

“Ngh—Zhongli...!”

You two had been at it for... what, twenty? Thirty minutes straight? You don’t remember what happened after you admitted what had been on your mind for almost a week; he wasted no time and immediately got to work.

Talk about dedication.

Chin covered in your slick, Zhongli laps up the juices spilling out of your puffy pussy, dragging out your last orgasm—the third of the session. He groans as the sweet taste hits his tastebuds, the Archon’s hips unconsciously rutting against the bed; the tent in his slacks was borderline painful, but being the gentleman he is, it was his duty to get you off before the main course.

“Ride it out darling,” he hums, pumping two gloved fingers in and out of you at a leisurely pace. The obscene noise of your juices echo in your mind, making you clench around his digits with carnal need for something more—something bigger.

“I-I can’t, I want...” you trail off, weakly tugging at his disheveled hair. The hair tie he used slipped uselessly off of his locks, having fallen victim to your vicious pulling of his hair. “Please, baby,” you beg weakly, still choked up from your climax(es).

With one last, long lick, he pulls away from your cunt. The sight of his cum covered face makes you whine with desire, but as your eyes trail down, your mind immediately forgets about needing his tongue back on your clit. He shuffles up the bed and straddles your hips, bucking up against your wetness.

Slick covers his crotch, and you can’t help but stare at his bulging cock pressing against the fabric of his pants. “See something you like?” he taunts, bringing his fingers up to his mouth to lick them clean from your juices.

You stare at his lips, then back down to his very obvious hard-on, and back to his lips again.

His figure shadows yours as he cages you in with his forearms, golden eyes piercing into your own. “Zhongli...” you reach down to tug at his belt, looking up at your beloved with big, glossy eyes. “Please don’t make me beg.”

A hand comes up to your face, stroking your cheek gently. He brings it down to tug on your bottom lip, smearing his saliva on your skin as a gentle smile spreads across his face. “Of course not, darling,” he hums. “I know what you need anyways, so there’s no need to tell me.”

He swiftly unbuckles his belt and unzips his pants, exposing the prominent wet patch on his briefs. “See what you do to me?” Zhongli purrs, watching your fingers impatiently pull down his underwear, shuddering when his heavy cock smacks against your cunt. “You’re not the only one here that gets riled up in such a way.”

You whine, dragging your hand up and down his throbbing length, pushing it down at the same time as you slide up the bed just enough for his flushed tip to snag onto your entrance.

“Z-Zhonglii...!” you huff again, impatiently grinding down onto him, desperately needing him to fill you already. A chuckle slips past his lips, and he pulls himself out of his short-lived trance that consisted of staring at his beautiful partner to cup your face.

“I’m sorry darling,” he murmurs, leaning down to kiss your nose so gently it feels like a butterfly brushed your flushed skin. “You just looked too beautiful not to admire.”

The compliment makes heat bloom onto your face, but as quickly as your expression melted into a love-stricken one, it morphs into pleasure as you gasp, feeling him push his fat cock into your needy hole.

“Fuck—so tight,” he mumbles, slowly bottoming out. “Are you alright, darling? Do you need a minute?” Zhongli huffs, brows pinched together as he exerts his self-control to not just ram himself into you immediately. You shake your head quickly, jaw slack, desperately trying to create more friction against your g-spot.

“Please just—” you choke on your words, feeling him pull back and thrust into you again in one swift movement, the slap of skin against skin making your skin burn with both arousal and embarrassment.

Zhongli’s right hand slides down to pull your shirt up over your chest, and almost immediately he gropes your breast, groaning at the feeling of the fat of your tit spilling out from between his fingers.

“So good to me,” he praises, amber gaze burning into you, studying your expression to burn it within his mind. “I can feel you clenching around me.”

He swallows, trying so hard not to bust right then and there. “D’you want to cum, darling? Are you close?”

Whimpering, you grab his left wrist and tug, looking up at him with a gasp. “Mhm,” you hum quietly, while biting your lip. Shlick sounds invade your eardrums, forcing soft little gasps to leave your lips in tandem with his thrusts.

“My sweetheart.” The Archon slides his left hand down your face to your throat, pushing down just enough to make your head feel lighter. The cold metal of his rings makes a shiver run up your spine, and as you choke out a gasp, Zhongli brings his other hand down between your bodies to rub your clit.

“Go on, cum for me darling.” He grunts, shutting his eyes to hold his impending orgasm back. “P-Please, need to feel that gorgeous pussy milking me before I do,” he breathes out, focusing on the pressure he kept on your throat.

Your eyelids flutter; and as your eyes roll up to the back of your head, you buck your hips up to meet his thrusts, clenching dangerously around his shaft. He thrusts once, twice, and you feel the dam snap as you gush around him, your back arching clean off the bed. You claw at his arms, writhing against the bed as moans leave your throat in waves in rhythm with your orgasm.

Zhongli’s brows furrow and his thrusts slow as you cum, but right as he blinks the bleariness away and meets your glossy, fucked-out gaze, he feels his heart clench.

“Haah, m-my love—”

Unable to speak a warning into existence, he shoots his load into you, painting your walls white with thick, warm cum. Pretty moans leave him as his head droops down to the junction of your neck, and his hips stutter while instinctively pushing his cum deeper into you, overstimulating both you and himself.

“Z-Zhongli, ‘s too much,” you whimper, pressing your palms onto his clothed chest—a poor attempt of pushing him away. “Too full...!”

Reluctantly, he gives you some breathing room and sits on his haunches to catch his breath. Watching your cunt flutter around nothing, he hums, pressing his hand on your lower stomach to watch the cum pool down the sheets with a hungry gaze. “Mm, I beg to differ,” he coos, flashing you a smirk. “There’s plenty of space left still.”

Your limbs rest numbly as you lay there on your shared bed, completely breathless. Your gaze flickers to the hand he kept on top of your stomach, and your pussy instantly clenches at the sight.

“Then... how about round two?”

v. taglist — @leiselotte, @sukunadckrider, @moraxnomora, @skylar896, @callinz, @animecinnamonroll99 , @pe4rl-diver, @kimisukimimi, @casuallynotthirsty, @coffee-ground-bones

#mdni and support creators dividers by the goat cafekitsune #again i cant Not yap im so sorry #when will catscidr stop with the unnecessary exposition. We Dont Know #ill try to stop and js go /mostly/ straight to smut next week #im sorry exposition is basically just foreplay to me #and foreplay is IMPORTANT!!!#geto x reader #kenjaku x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #zhongli x reader #genshin x reader #genshin smut #cw dubcon #kinktober 2024

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pascaloverx · 1 month ago

Text

DEVIL (+18)

Summary: You are a demonic creature, capable of doing whatever you please, whenever you wish. Your goal on Earth is to terrorize as many souls as possible. Until, in a small community, you find the perfect victim for your mischievous games: Father Charlie Mayhew.

Author's Note: Honestly, I’m not sure if this story will have more than one chapter, but it will contain adult content and inappropriate language. Violence may also appear. Frankly, I just needed to write something about this character portrayed by Nicholas Alexander Chavez. The character and others, apart from Y/N, are not my creation. They belong to the Grotesquerie (2024) universe created by Ryan Murphy. To anyone reading this story, I hope you enjoy it.

AO3 LINK TWO

ONE

How tedious human life is. Not to offend anyone, but you were already tired of all the petty, complicated, and disjointed problems humans have. Not doing what they want, fearing consequences, and not always seeking to take advantage of others makes humans seem so weak. Humans need automobiles to move around, they have no special powers, they feel guilty for the slightest act, and when they sin, they believe a priest can purify their wrongdoings.

"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. At least that's what the movies say I should say when I enter a confessional. Unless you'd prefer something more modern, like, 'Father, I really messed up. I committed an affront to good morals. Blah blah blah…'" You enter Father Charlie Mayhew's confessional, waiting for his response. You can hear the muffled chuckle he lets out at your casual way of speaking.

"It doesn't seem to me that you are truly repentant. Taking advantage of the informality with which you are speaking to me, may I ask what brings you here?" For a human, he has a voice that, in its more serious and deep tone, can be charming; it's easy to understand why he became a priest. With a voice like that, he could easily persuade you to be a devoted daughter of God, even if you were, in truth, a demon.

“Let’s say it was a call of nature. In truth, I’ve felt impure ever since I witnessed something terrible.” You say, trying to sound as human as possible, feeling as if your skin were burning from being inside the church. Just kidding; in reality, demons can be anywhere, even in religious places.

"What is it, my dear faithful of the Lord, that you witnessed?" Father Mayhew speaks with a certain nonchalance, as if he's almost sure he knows your answer. You try to catch a glimpse of him through the confessional booth’s small openings. He seems like the very embodiment of sin, perfectly crafted for thirsty thoughts.

"Father, I witnessed a delightful scene. It was a priest known for his youthful appearance and modern style, masturbating while thinking about the beautiful nun he had recently met. In fact, there was another moment that I witnessed. The moment when this same priest let the nun touch him in a sinful way. Oh, this priest's mind could only hope that these private moments would continue." You provoke him, subtly revealing that you know of his most intimate sins. The priest immediately steps out of his booth and opens the door to yours. His expression is furious, while you wear your most mischievous smile. Your attire catches him off guard, certainly. You’re dressed in a nun's habit, but entirely unlike the usual. Yours is red—the color of blood—with black lace details. It is the perfect blend of religion and sin, a nun’s habit styled like lingerie.

"What are you?" the priest asks, not in fear, but with a steady gaze fixed on you. You rise and slowly walk toward him, your steps deliberate, as he retreats. You can see his eyes searching for answers, trying to comprehend what you are.

"I am merely a concerned devotee, worried about who is managing this church, of course. Father, it shouldn’t be me reminding you that sin is wrong. But I think you already know it’s wrong—you just can’t stop. If the wounds on your back tell me anything, it’s that you enjoy punishing yourself for being a naughty boy. Let’s just say I’m your newest form of penance." You speak as you circle around Father Mayhew, who watches you with a gaze of fascination. In truth, you had peeked into the mortal priest’s sinful mind, discovering exactly how to become an irresistible vision for him.

"Why are you tormenting me?" Father Mayhew keeps his eyes fixed on you as you walk through the church, surveying what is supposed to be sacred ground. It’s remarkable, entering the so-called house of God, where sins lurk behind the angelic façade, just as Father Mayhew hides his dark thoughts beneath his cassock. You smile as your fingers glide over the candles, feeling the warmth of their flames between your fingertips.

"Me? Tormenting you? I’m simply fascinated by that devilishly handsome face of yours and the way you blend love for religion with the lust locked away inside you. Sister Megan must have had quite the time running her little fingers over you. Honestly, you, Father, are trouble, and I want to help you." You speak, captivated by the lust in his eyes, even as he remains partly afraid that you might be a punishment from the devil himself. You move closer, touching his cassock, tracing your finger over the places where he is wounded, where he hurt himself.

"More…" he whispers, closing his eyes as he feels your touch. He begins to moan softly from the pain you’re inflicting. Your fingers tighten their grip on the bruises on his back as he groans heavily. You bring your lips closer to the back of his neck, placing a few kisses there.

"Father, Father, Father. You're visibly excited in the middle of the church. What would the Bishop say about this? Or your faithful and devoted followers, who trust that their priest will be the purest of men?" You speak softly against the back of his neck, feeling him shiver. He turns to look at you, eyes thirsty for the pleasure of the flesh.

"It doesn’t matter, not really. 1 John 1:9, 'If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.' God, in His glory, will understand that in the face of temptation, I could not resist my sinful nature, and for that, I have failed in His eyes." Father Mayhew speaks, his eyes lingering on every detail of your face, but especially your lips. In his depraved mind, he’s already imagining. Imagining how his cock would fit perfectly between your lips, or how your moans must be as delicious as the tone of your voice. He lets his imagination of touching you, tasting you take over and lightly places his fingers under your lips, massaging them.

"Father, you are a perfect creature, but you are trapped beneath this mask of a devout religious man. I promise I will return here to unlock your true potential. Until then, remain under the flame of lust. Oh, and keep recording those workout videos; you have no idea how many souls your face and body corrupt. Now, to seal our first encounter together, repeat after me: I, Father Charlie Mayhew, accept your demonic presence to torment me for as long as necessary, committing myself to serve you." You say, gazing deeply into his eyes, as he seems lost in you. It takes him a moment to repeat your words, his eyes lingering on your attire, contemplating the implications of becoming entangled with you.

"Was that all?" He asks after repeating your words, his tone low as if he’s embarrassed. "When will I see you again?" There’s a note of desperation in Father Mayhew's question, as he watches you, trying to memorize every detail. You smile, thinking that he probably wants to remember you so he can indulge in pleasure later.

"You'll see me when the time is right. In the meantime, keep being a naughty boy," you say, caressing his face. Then, with a single finger, you touch his lips, slicing them open. He lets out a soft moan as blood begins to seep from his mouth. "Now it's time for my triumphant exit. Goodbye, Father," you say, leaning in to kiss him, as if to draw his very soul through his lips. The taste of his blood lingers in your mouth, sealing the recent pact between you. You lick his lips and then disappear. Like an illusion, you are no longer there.

#father charlie mayhew #charlie mayhew x reader #charlie mayhew x y/n #nicholas alexander chavez #charlie mayhew #demon x priest #demon au #Spotify #sister megan #grotesquerie #nicholas chavez #sister megan duval #demonic reader #religion mention #religion aesthetic #i wanna fuck a priest #slight smut

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urdreamydoodles · 1 month ago

Note

Hello hello hello darling!!

How are you? Well,i hope?

Introducing myself,I am Nina or weewoo,self proclaimed platonic asker!!

I saw your requests for X-Men were open,so i jumped right in,as it's my current hyperfixation!! So here it is:

Could i pretty please have Wolverine,Scott,Jean,Kurt,Ororo,Remy,Anne-Marie,Hank,Kevin,Lucas,Charles and Erik with a Child!Gn!Reader (if you don't want to write a child!reader,an adult reader is fine!) that's literally a ball of sunshine,always being positive and able to light up a room,always being clingy- but after a really bad mission/day,they just- dim? They become a hollow version of themselves,becoming scared,silent and depressing,distancing themselves from the others and overall just being the opposite of what they were? And the X-men are just trying their best to cheer them back up and are just so relieved to see them slowly go back to normal? Just a little hurt/comfort :3

Anyways i hope you enjoy writing this ask!

Feel free to tweak it (if you don't write for certain characters,If you want to write for more/other characters etc..)!!

Don't forget to eat,drink and have breaks!

Stay Proud,

-Nina <33

X-Men x Child!Reader

You lose your zest for life after a traumatic event

After a traumatic mission, your usually bright and positive self becomes withdrawn and distant, leaving the X-Men concerned and heartbroken by the sudden change. Each mentor steps in to offer their unique form of support, helping you gradually return to your true self, offering a blend of quiet understanding, strength, and unwavering care.

Characters: Scott Summers, Logan Howlett, Jean Grey, Kurt Wagner, Ororo Munroe, Remy LeBeau, Rogue, Hank McCoy, Kevin MacTaggert, Charles Xavier, Erik Lehnsherr & Lucas Bishop

Hello, Nina! What a lovely message you left me here ♡ It made my day. And this is the first time I've been asked for "obscure" characters and I'm so happy, I hope you like my take on them. As I said, I've read almost all of the X-Men comics, so don't be afraid to ask me your "obscure" character, I will gladly make them. And same, I think everyone has noticed that X-Men comics are my hyperfixation. Hope you like it ♡ — Love, Marie, your friendly marvel fangirl

Scott Summers (Cyclops)

- Scott Summers has always been a strong, dependable presence in your life. You’ve always looked up to him, not just because of his leadership but because of the way he’s always made you feel safe. You’re the bright, cheerful kid who lights up the room when you walk in, and you’ve always been attached to Scott. He treats you like his own, encouraging your optimism, even when things get tough. You’re constantly clinging to him, whether it’s holding his hand or sitting next to him during training sessions.

- But after a particularly bad mission, something inside you changes. You’d witnessed something you shouldn’t have, something that shook your sense of safety and security. For the first time, you were scared. You pulled away from Scott, stopped seeking his comforting presence. You became a hollow version of yourself, quiet and withdrawn. Scott noticed immediately, his heart breaking every time he saw the light in your eyes dimmed. He tried talking to you, but you brushed him off, not wanting to burden him with your fears.

- Scott wasn’t about to give up on you. He knew what it was like to carry fear and trauma, and he wasn’t going to let you go through it alone. He’d sit beside you quietly, offering a hand that you didn’t take, but he never pressured you. He’d talk about his own struggles when he was younger, hoping that sharing his experiences would help you feel less alone. Slowly, he started to break through the walls you’d built around yourself. Little by little, you began to open up again, but it was a slow process.

- The turning point came one day when Scott took you out to the training field. He didn’t ask you to train or talk; he just stood with you in the quiet. After a long silence, you finally spoke up, telling him about the fear you’d been carrying. Scott listened intently, reassuring you that it was okay to be scared but that you didn’t have to carry it alone. His steady presence, the way he never wavered, slowly helped you regain your confidence. Over time, you started clinging to him again, your light slowly returning.

- Scott’s relief was palpable when he saw you smile for the first time in what felt like forever. He never stopped watching out for you, always ready to offer a hand or a kind word when you needed it. He knew that you’d never be the same as you were before, but he also knew that you were stronger for it. And he’d always be there, a guiding presence, whenever you needed him.

Logan Howlett (Wolverine)

- Logan wasn’t exactly the warmest or most outwardly affectionate person, but somehow, you managed to break through his tough exterior. From the moment you arrived at the mansion, you’d latched onto him, following him around like a little shadow. You were this bright, positive ball of energy, always finding the silver lining in any situation. Logan would grumble about you being clingy, but deep down, he didn’t mind. In fact, he found himself getting used to your constant presence, and it brought a rare smile to his face.

- Then, one day, after a brutal mission, everything changed. Something happened out there—something that left you shaken to your core. You came back to the mansion a different person, quiet and distant, a shadow of the child you once were. You stopped seeking out Logan, stopped clinging to his side. You barely spoke, and when you did, it was just to say you were fine, even though Logan knew you weren’t. It was hard for him to see you like that, and it tore him apart inside.

- Logan didn’t know how to handle it at first. He wasn’t good with feelings, and he didn’t want to push you, but seeing you so hollow hurt him more than he’d care to admit. He’d sit outside your room sometimes, just to be close to you, hoping you’d open the door. He tried to give you space but also wanted you to know that he was there. One day, after you’d been sitting alone for hours, Logan finally came into your room without a word, sat down beside you, and just waited. You didn’t speak, but his presence was comforting, like an anchor in a storm.

- Slowly, Logan started taking you out on little trips—nothing fancy, just walks in the woods or quiet moments by the lake. He knew the outdoors had always helped him clear his head, and he hoped it would do the same for you. It took a while, but you eventually started talking again, first in short sentences, then longer conversations. You told Logan about the fear you couldn’t shake, about how the mission had changed how you saw the world. Logan listened, not offering advice, just being there for you.

- Over time, you started to come back to yourself. You clung to Logan again, and even though he grumbled about it, he didn’t push you away. The first time you laughed after the incident, Logan let out a relieved breath he didn’t know he was holding. He wasn’t the best at showing emotion, but you knew he cared. And in his own gruff way, Logan made sure you knew that no matter what, he’d always be there for you, protecting you from the world—and sometimes, from yourself.

Jean Grey (Phoenix)

- Jean Grey was the one you always went to when you needed comfort. She was warm, nurturing, and could always make you feel safe, no matter what was going on around you. You adored her, always hanging around her, basking in her presence like a little ray of sunshine. She never minded how clingy you were—in fact, she found it endearing. You were her little bright spot in a world that often felt heavy, and she cherished every moment with you.

- But one day, after a particularly intense mission, everything changed. Something happened out there—something that shook you to your core. When you came back, the light in you had dimmed. You didn’t seek out Jean like you usually did. You didn’t smile or talk as much, and when you did, it was clear that you were trying to hide your fear and sadness. Jean noticed immediately and was heartbroken to see you so withdrawn.

- Jean didn’t push you, but she made sure you knew she was there. She’d gently knock on your door, leaving little notes or snacks she knew you liked. She’d find subtle ways to be around you, like sitting quietly in the same room while you read or worked on something. It was her way of reminding you that you weren’t alone, even if you didn’t want to talk about what had happened yet.

- One evening, Jean invited you to the rooftop garden, a place that had always been special to both of you. You hesitated at first, but eventually, you agreed. As you both sat under the stars, Jean spoke softly about her own struggles with fear and trauma, telling you stories of times when she felt the weight of the world on her shoulders. She wasn’t trying to make you feel better by comparing your pain to hers; she just wanted you to know that it was okay to be scared, that it was okay to feel overwhelmed.

- Slowly, with Jean’s gentle care and understanding, you began to open up again. It wasn’t an overnight change, but little by little, the light in you started to return. Jean was patient, never rushing you, always offering a kind word or a soft hug when you needed it. She was so relieved the day she saw you smile again—really smile, not just out of politeness. Jean knew you would never be exactly the same as you were before, but she was proud of how strong you’d become. And she promised herself that she’d always be there to help you find your light again, no matter how many times it dimmed.

Kurt Wagner (Nightcrawler)

- Kurt Wagner, with his kind heart and unwavering faith, had always been like a father figure to you. From the moment you arrived at Xavier’s, he took you under his wing. You, the ever-cheerful ball of sunshine, found his gentle nature comforting, and you admired his ability to remain positive despite everything he had gone through. You’d often cling to his side, your laughter echoing through the mansion as you teleported around with him or listened to his stories about his life in the circus.

- After a particularly difficult mission, however, everything changed. You had seen things that no child should ever witness—things that tore away at your innocence and light. You returned to the mansion quiet, no longer the beacon of joy you once were. You distanced yourself from Kurt, spending more time alone in your room, and when he tried to comfort you, you’d give him half-hearted smiles, pretending everything was fine. Kurt knew better, though. The light in your eyes had dimmed, and it broke his heart to see you retreating into yourself.

- Kurt, being as patient and understanding as ever, didn’t push you. He respected your space but never let you feel abandoned. He would often leave little drawings and notes for you to find, hoping to coax a smile out of you. One evening, as you sat alone in the chapel, lost in thought, Kurt quietly joined you. He didn’t say anything at first—he just sat beside you, offering his silent presence as comfort. Eventually, he began talking about his own struggles with darkness, reminding you that it was okay to feel scared and lost but that you didn’t have to go through it alone.

- Slowly but surely, Kurt’s unwavering kindness and gentle patience began to reach you. He never demanded that you return to your old self but instead encouraged you to take things one step at a time. He took you on small trips around the mansion, teleporting you to peaceful spots in the garden or the attic, where you could talk if you wanted or just sit in silence. With each little outing, you felt a small part of yourself begin to heal, the weight of what you’d seen slowly lifting.

- The first time you laughed again in Kurt’s presence, he nearly cried with relief. It wasn’t the carefree laugh he was used to, but it was a start. Over time, you began to cling to him again, seeking his presence when you needed comfort, and while you weren’t the same person you were before, you were stronger. Kurt made sure to remind you every day that no matter what, he would always be there for you, a guiding light in the darkness whenever you needed him.

Ororo Munroe (Storm)

- Ororo Munroe, with her serene presence and deep connection to nature, had always been like a mother to you. You admired her strength, her compassion, and the way she carried herself with grace despite the storms she had weathered in life. You, with your bright personality and endless energy, often found yourself attached to Ororo’s side, soaking up her wisdom and calm demeanor. She adored your optimism and always took the time to nurture your cheerful spirit.

- But after a harrowing mission that rattled you to your core, the light inside you dimmed. You had witnessed something that no child should ever see, and it changed you. You became quiet, withdrawn, and stopped seeking Ororo’s calming presence like you once did. You no longer smiled or laughed as you once had, and Ororo could see the pain in your eyes. She didn’t push you, but the change in you weighed heavily on her heart. She knew something was wrong, but she waited for you to come to her when you were ready.

- Ororo, with her natural maternal instincts, made sure you never felt alone, even as you distanced yourself. She would leave flowers by your bedside, small tokens of beauty and life, hoping to lift your spirits. One afternoon, when you were particularly down, she invited you to the greenhouse, knowing how much you had always loved spending time with the plants. At first, you were hesitant, but Ororo’s gentle encouragement convinced you to go. The peaceful atmosphere and Ororo’s quiet presence made it easier for you to open up, and little by little, you began to talk about what was troubling you.

- Ororo listened with endless patience as you finally shared your fears and the things that haunted you. She didn’t try to force positivity on you; instead, she acknowledged your pain and assured you that it was okay to feel the way you did. She reminded you that even the sun needs time to rise after a storm and that, like nature, you would heal at your own pace. Her words comforted you more than anything, and you found solace in her gentle wisdom.

- Slowly, over time, you began to recover. Ororo took you on small walks through the gardens, showing you how the flowers bloomed even after the harshest winters. Her presence was a constant source of comfort, and she never left your side, encouraging you to take things one day at a time. The first time you smiled again, Ororo felt a wave of relief wash over her. You were healing, and while you weren’t the same child you were before, you had grown stronger. Ororo made sure to remind you every day that, like the weather, you could weather any storm with time and support.

Remy LeBeau (Gambit)

- Remy LeBeau, with his smooth charm and playful nature, was someone you had always looked up to. He treated you like his little shadow, always making time for your endless energy and positivity. You adored him, clinging to his side during missions or downtime, laughing at his jokes even when they weren’t that funny. Remy loved the light you brought into his life, and he always made sure to keep that spark alive, teaching you card tricks and letting you tag along on adventures.

- But after a mission gone wrong, the light in you dimmed. You had seen something that no child should have to witness, and it shook you to your core. When you returned to the mansion, you were no longer the bright, bubbly child you had been. You avoided Remy, retreating into yourself and becoming a quiet, hollow version of who you once were. Remy noticed immediately, and it worried him deeply. He tried to coax you out of your shell with jokes and games, but nothing seemed to work.

- Remy wasn’t the type to give up easily, though. He knew you were hurting, and while he didn’t want to push you, he also didn’t want to let you carry that burden alone. He started leaving little notes and gifts in your room, hoping to make you smile. One day, when you were sitting alone in the mansion’s common room, Remy sat down beside you, quietly shuffling his deck of cards. He didn’t say anything, just sat with you, offering his silent presence. Slowly, the two of you began to talk, and Remy listened as you finally opened up about what had been bothering you.

- Remy was patient as you worked through your feelings, never once rushing you to be “your old self” again. He shared stories of his own troubled past, reminding you that even the brightest lights can flicker sometimes. He encouraged you to take things one day at a time and reassured you that it was okay to feel sad and scared. With Remy’s gentle guidance, you began to feel a little more like yourself each day.

- The first time you laughed at one of Remy’s jokes again, he felt a wave of relief wash over him. It wasn’t the carefree laugh he was used to, but it was a start. Slowly but surely, you began to cling to him again, seeking out his presence for comfort. While you weren’t the same child you were before, you were stronger, and Remy made sure you knew that no matter what, he would always be there to help you find your way back to the light.

Rogue (Anna Marie)

- Rogue had always been your big sister figure, and you admired her so much. She had her own struggles with her powers, but you never once saw her let it dampen her spirit. Her tough love and protective nature made you feel safe, and your bright and bubbly personality often drew her into fits of laughter when the two of you hung out. She’d ruffle your hair and joke about how you could probably light up the whole mansion with your smile. Rogue was always there for you, and you adored her for it.

- One day, after a mission that went horribly wrong, you returned to the mansion feeling completely shattered. You had seen something that no child should ever have to see, and it left you feeling broken inside. Your once vibrant and clingy self faded into the background, and you withdrew from everyone, even Rogue. You avoided her, choosing instead to lock yourself away in your room, barely eating or speaking to anyone. Rogue knew something was wrong, and it broke her heart to see you retreat into yourself.

- Rogue wasn’t the type to let anyone suffer alone, though, especially not someone as close to her as you. She tried giving you space at first, but when it became clear that you weren’t coming to her, she decided to come to you. She knocked softly on your door one afternoon, waiting for you to let her in. When you didn’t respond, she simply sat outside your room and began talking to you, her voice gentle and filled with care. She didn’t push you to open up right away, but she reminded you that she was there, whenever you were ready.

- It took a while, but eventually, you came out of your room and found Rogue sitting on the porch, watching the sunset. You sat beside her quietly, and for a long time, neither of you said anything. Then, with a shaky voice, you started to tell her about what had happened during the mission, how it had affected you, and how you didn’t know how to deal with it. Rogue listened intently, her usual sass replaced with a quiet understanding. She wrapped an arm around you, careful with her touch, and pulled you close. “You ain’t gotta deal with it alone, sugar,” she said softly. “I’m here, and I ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

- Rogue didn’t expect you to bounce back overnight, but she made sure you knew she had your back. She’d drag you out of bed on particularly bad days, forcing you to come on walks with her or just sit in the sun. Slowly but surely, you started to feel a little more like yourself. The first time you cracked a joke, Rogue’s grin was so wide it made your heart swell. You weren’t completely back to your old self, but Rogue never rushed you. She was just happy to see that spark returning, even if it took time. You knew with Rogue by your side, you’d find your way back to the light.

Hank McCoy (Beast)

- Hank McCoy was a father figure to you in every sense of the word. His intelligence, kindness, and calm demeanor made you feel safe, and you always loved spending time in his lab, watching him work. Your bubbly and energetic personality balanced out his more serious side, and he often said you were like a ray of sunshine that could brighten even the darkest of days. You adored him, following him around and asking endless questions about science and the world, to which he would always give thoughtful and detailed answers.

- But after a traumatic mission that left you shaken, your once-bright personality faded. The light inside you dimmed, and you found yourself retreating into the shadows. You stopped visiting Hank in his lab, stopped asking him questions, and started spending more time alone, lost in your own thoughts. You didn’t want to burden him with your problems, so you kept everything inside, but Hank noticed immediately. It hurt him to see you withdraw, and he knew something was wrong.

- Hank, ever the patient and understanding mentor, gave you space but never let you feel alone. He would leave small notes in the places he knew you frequented, little reminders that he was there if you needed him. One day, when you hadn’t come to the lab in weeks, he knocked on your door. You were curled up in bed, barely acknowledging his presence. He sat down beside you, his large, gentle hand resting on your shoulder. “You don’t have to talk if you’re not ready,” he said quietly. “But know that I’m here, always.”

- Eventually, you did open up to him, telling him about the horrors you had witnessed during the mission and how it had changed you. Hank listened with the utmost care, his heart aching for you. He didn’t try to fix everything right away, but instead, he reminded you that it was okay to feel lost and scared. He shared his own struggles with you, times when he had felt out of control or burdened by his powers. His empathy and understanding helped you feel less alone, and little by little, you started to find your way back to yourself.

- Hank knew it would take time for you to fully recover, but he was endlessly patient. He’d invite you to the lab again, not to work but just to be in each other’s company, and he would leave little experiments for you to do whenever you felt ready. The first time you smiled while working on a project, Hank felt an immense sense of relief. You were healing, and while you might not be the same child you were before, Hank was proud of your strength. He made sure you knew that no matter what, he would always be there for you, guiding you back to the light whenever you needed it.

Kevin MacTaggert (Proteus)

- Kevin MacTaggert, or Proteus, was a complicated figure in your life. Despite his dark history and unstable powers, there was a part of him that cared deeply for you. You, with your infectious positivity and boundless energy, had managed to form a bond with him, one that even he didn’t fully understand. You saw the good in him, even when he couldn’t see it in himself. Kevin often kept his distance from others, but with you, he allowed himself to be a little softer, a little more vulnerable. You clung to him, always finding ways to make him smile, even if it was just for a brief moment.

- But after witnessing something truly horrifying during a mission, you changed. The light inside you dimmed, and you no longer sought out Kevin’s presence like you used to. You became quiet, withdrawn, and scared. Kevin, who had always been sensitive to the emotions of those around him, noticed the shift immediately. It unsettled him to see you like this, and he didn’t know how to handle it at first. He wasn’t used to caring for others, but seeing you suffer made him feel something unfamiliar—concern.

- Kevin wasn’t the type to offer comfort easily, but he couldn’t just stand by and do nothing. He sought you out one day, finding you sitting alone in the mansion’s courtyard. He didn’t say much at first, just sat beside you, his presence enough to let you know he was there. After a while, he quietly asked what had happened, and for the first time since the mission, you opened up about the trauma you had experienced. Kevin listened intently, his usual sharp demeanor replaced with quiet understanding.

- He didn’t know how to fix what you were feeling, but he knew he didn’t want to see you in pain. Kevin began spending more time with you, trying to coax you back to your old self in his own way. He wasn’t great at emotional support, but he’d distract you with stories or small adventures around the mansion. You slowly began to open up again, and while Kevin wasn’t the warmest figure in your life, his presence was comforting. He didn’t push you to be happy, but he made sure you knew he was there, in his own quiet, protective way.

- Over time, you started to feel a little more like yourself. You weren’t the same child you were before, but you had grown stronger. Kevin, in his own way, had helped you heal, and you could see that even he had changed a little, softening around the edges. The first time you smiled again, Kevin gave a rare, genuine smile of his own. You were healing, and though the journey was long, you knew that with Kevin’s quiet support, you’d find your way back to the light.

Charles Xavier (Professor X)

- Charles Xavier had always been a guiding figure in your life. He was more than just the head of the school; he was like a father to you, someone you could look up to and trust. Your boundless positivity and energy were a constant source of joy for him, and he often said that your presence alone could brighten his day, even when things were difficult. You clung to Charles, always seeking his advice or simply spending time with him, knowing that he understood you in ways few others could.

- But after a particularly harrowing mission, something inside you broke. You weren’t your usual self, no longer the bright and happy child everyone knew. The trauma of what you had seen had dimmed your light, and you withdrew from everyone, including Charles. You stopped seeking his guidance, and instead, you stayed silent, choosing to avoid him altogether. It pained him to see you like this, but he respected your space, understanding that healing took time.

- Charles didn’t push you to open up, but he was always there, silently offering his support. His telepathic abilities allowed him to sense the depth of your pain, but he never intruded on your thoughts. He waited patiently, hoping that one day, you would come to him when you were ready. In the meantime, he left small reminders around the mansion—a favorite book, a handwritten note—letting you know that he hadn’t forgotten about you.

- It wasn’t until you broke down one evening, unable to contain the weight of your emotions any longer, that you finally came to him. You found Charles sitting in his study, and without saying a word, you collapsed into his arms, tears streaming down your face. He held you gently, his presence calm and reassuring. He didn’t ask for an explanation, knowing that you would speak when you were ready. “I’m here, always,” he whispered, his voice steady and full of compassion.

- Over the next few weeks, Charles made it his mission to help you heal, guiding you through meditation and mindfulness techniques that would allow you to process your trauma. He never rushed you, never expected you to be your old self right away. Slowly, you began to come out of your shell again, finding comfort in his wisdom and kindness. The first time you laughed again, Charles smiled, his heart swelling with relief. You weren’t fully back to your sunny self, but with Charles by your side, you knew you would find your way back to the light, in time.

Erik Lehnsherr (Magneto)

- Erik Lehnsherr wasn’t the warmest of mentors, but he had always taken a special interest in you. There was something about your bright personality that intrigued him, something about the way you could remain so positive in a world that was often so cruel. You admired Erik for his strength and conviction, and despite his often stern demeanor, you knew he cared about you deeply. He was like a father to you, though he’d never say it out loud. You often joked that you were the sunshine to his storm, a balance of opposites that somehow worked.

- After a mission that went horribly wrong, you weren’t the same. The bright, bubbly child that had once brought so much light into Erik’s life was gone, replaced by someone who was quiet, withdrawn, and afraid. You couldn’t shake the horrors you had witnessed, and you distanced yourself from everyone, including Erik. You stopped seeking him out, choosing instead to hide away, not wanting to burden him with your pain. Erik, however, noticed immediately. He wasn’t the most emotionally expressive man, but it hurt him to see you suffering in silence.

- Erik didn’t push you to talk about what had happened, but he kept a close eye on you, watching from a distance. He understood trauma in ways that most couldn’t, and while he respected your need for space, he also knew that you couldn’t go through this alone. One evening, he found you sitting by the window, staring out at the night sky, lost in your thoughts. Without a word, he sat beside you, the silence between you heavy but comforting in its own way.

- After a long stretch of quiet, you finally opened up to Erik, telling him about the mission and how it had changed you. Erik listened carefully, his usual sharpness replaced with a rare gentleness. He didn’t offer you platitudes or try to diminish your pain. Instead, he shared his own experiences, his own struggles with the darkness that often consumed him. “We all have our demons,” he said quietly. “But you don’t have to face them alone.”

- Erik’s approach to helping you heal was different from others. He didn’t coddle you, but he was always there, offering his strength when you needed it. Slowly, with his guidance, you began to find your way back to yourself. The first time you smiled again, Erik gave a small, almost imperceptible smile of his own. You weren’t completely back to the bright, sunny child you had been before, but with Erik by your side, you knew you’d find your way back to the light, even if it took time.

Lucas Bishop

- Bishop had always been more of a protector than anything else. He admired your optimism and saw in you a kind of light that was rare in his world of war and survival. To him, you were a reminder of the peace he fought so hard to protect, and despite his often stoic nature, he grew deeply attached to you. You, in turn, saw Bishop as a big brother, someone who would always keep you safe, no matter what. You often followed him around, your endless curiosity and bright energy a stark contrast to his serious demeanor.

- But after a particularly brutal mission, everything changed. You weren’t the same bright and positive child that had once been a beacon of light in Bishop’s life. The trauma of what you had witnessed left you hollow, and you withdrew into yourself, barely speaking or acknowledging anyone. You stopped following Bishop around, stopped asking him questions, and instead, you stayed in your room, avoiding everyone. Bishop noticed immediately and, while he respected your space, it tore him apart to see you like this.

- Bishop wasn’t one to talk about emotions, but he wasn’t going to let you suffer in silence either. He didn’t force you to talk about what had happened, but he made sure you knew he was there, whenever you were ready. One evening, he found you sitting alone in the mansion’s training room, staring blankly at the ground. Without saying a word, he sat down beside you, his presence steady and reassuring. You didn’t speak at first, but eventually, the silence between you became too much to bear, and you began to tell him about the mission, about how it had changed you.

- Bishop listened with the same intensity he brought to every mission, his focus entirely on you. When you finished, he didn’t try to fix things or offer you easy solutions. Instead, he put a hand on your shoulder and said, “You’re not alone in this. I’ve been through it too, and I’m here for you.” His words, simple as they were, carried a weight that made you feel less alone. Bishop had seen horrors too, and knowing that he understood made it easier for you to start healing.

- Over the next few weeks, Bishop kept a close eye on you, making sure you didn’t retreat too far into yourself. He didn’t push you to be your old self right away, but he did encourage you to get back into a routine, to start training again, even if it was just for a few minutes a day. Slowly, you began to regain your strength, and while you weren’t the same bright child you had been before, you felt a little more like yourself each day. The first time you cracked a joke in Bishop’s presence, he gave a rare smile, a small but significant sign that you were on your way back to the light.

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