#i mean *whispers* it's all about the quiet strength

[novaursa]

Dragonbane

- Summary: You go to Rook's Rest instead of Rhaenys and the rest is history.

- Paring: male!cousin/Rhaenyra Targaryen

- Note: The reader is a son of Daemon Targaryen and bonded with Vermithor.

- Rating: Explicit 18+ (for graphic descriptions of blood, gore and death)

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround @literaturedog

The hall of the Painted Table is quiet, the air heavy with the weight of war and grief. You stand at its center. The carved map of Westeros gleams beneath your hands as you trace a finger over the land your house means to reclaim. Beside you, your wife, Rhaenyra, paces. Her hand twists the golden rings on her fingers, her face a storm of anger and worry.

“Send anyone else,” she says, her voice firm but tinged with desperation. “Anyone but you. My mother lost her life to childbirth, my father lost his life to his weakness, and now… you would have me lose my husband to a battle that isn’t even yours to fight.”

You meet her eyes, the violet flames within them threatening to consume you. “It is my battle,” you reply evenly. “It is ours. Every step they take against us, every insult, every drop of blood spilled — it is all ours to answer. Vermithor is the only dragon alive who can match Vhagar. This isn’t about bravery, Rhaenyra. It’s about strategy.”

She stops pacing, standing just a step away from you now. Her fingers curl into fists at her sides. “Strategy? Strategy would see you dead! Do you think Aemond will give you a clean fight? Do you think Sunfyre will hesitate to tear Vermithor apart, or that Vhagar’s rage can be controlled?”

You step closer, your hands reaching for hers. She doesn’t resist when you take them, though she stiffens beneath your touch. “Rhaenyra, my love,” you murmur, softening your voice. “Do you think I don’t understand your fear? Do you think I am eager for this? But Rhaenys cannot go. Meleys is fierce but no match for Vhagar and Sunfyre together. If we send her, we lose not only a dragon but the Queen Who Never Was. And what then? Our strength relies on the alliances we keep. If I do not go, who will?”

Her lips tremble, but she is too proud to let tears fall. “You would ask me to wait here, knowing you might not return?”

“I would,” you say, your own voice beginning to crack. “And I would ask you to trust me. Vermithor is not so easily defeated. Nor am I.”

A scoff interrupts the moment, and you turn to see Daemon standing by the edge of the Painted Table, his arms crossed. His smirk is sharp and cutting, though his eyes are shadowed by something deeper. “You’ve got fire in you, boy,” he says, nodding in approval. “But fire can burn too bright. Listen to your wife. There’s wisdom in what she says.”

You glare at him. “And would you go in my place, father? Or shall we send our cousins to fight their battles for them?”

Daemon’s smirk fades, replaced by a flash of anger. “Watch your tongue. I’ve fought my wars. This isn’t about me.”

“No,” you reply, stepping away from Rhaenyra. “It isn’t. It’s about what we stand to lose if no one dares to take the risk.”

Rhaenyra’s voice rises, cutting through the tension. “This is not a risk worth taking! You are my husband, the father of our children, the heir to your father’s legacy. I will not be left alone to face the Hightowers without you.”

You look at her, your resolve beginning to waver under her fierce gaze. “And what if I were to refuse? What if I stood by while another died in my place? What kind of man would you have me be, Rhaenyra?”

She doesn’t answer, her chest rising and falling with the force of her emotions. Finally, she shakes her head. “I would have you alive. That is all I ask.”

You step closer to her again, cupping her cheek in your hand. “I will come back to you,” you whisper. “I swear it.”

She closes her eyes, leaning into your touch for a brief moment before pulling away. “If you don’t,” she says, her voice breaking, “I will burn the world for you.”

The room falls silent, the only sound the crackling of the torches. Daemon’s gaze shifts between the two of you, but he says nothing.

Finally, you step back, your decision made. “Prepare Vermithor,” you say, your voice steady. “We leave at first light.”

Rhaenyra doesn’t try to stop you again. She turns and leaves the hall without another word, the weight of her silence heavier than any argument could have been. You watch her go, feeling the ache of what you might lose settle deep in your chest.

Daemon approaches, clapping a hand on your shoulder. “You’ve got guts,” he says quietly. “And gods willing, they won’t be spilled on the battlefield. Fly fast, strike hard, and don’t let them see your fear.”

You nod, your jaw tightening. “Fear has no place on dragonback.”

As you walk toward the doors, toward Vermithor and the battle to come, you feel the weight of your family’s legacy on your shoulders. The fear you won’t show burns in your veins, but so does the fire of the dragon you ride.

The wind roars around you as you soar high above the skies of Rook’s Rest. The faint shimmer of dawn outlines the horizon, casting a pale light over the smoke-streaked battlefield below. Screams and the clang of steel rise from the earth, but your focus is not on the chaos beneath. It is on the two monstrous shapes in the distance, silhouetted against the blood-red sky: Vhagar and Sunfyre.

Vermithor growls beneath you, a deep, guttural sound that vibrates through your saddle and bones. You tighten your grip on the reins, your other hand holding firm to your sword. “Steady,” you murmur. “They will come to us soon enough.”

And they do.

Sunfyre is the first to dive, his golden scales gleaming like molten fire in the light. His roar splits the sky, the sound sharp and youthful compared to Vermithor’s guttural response. You see Aegon, clad in his golden armor, urging his dragon forward, his lance raised high.

“Come on, you craven bastard!” you shout, leaning low over Vermithor’s neck. The Bronze Fury beneath you answers with a sudden surge of speed, his wings cutting through the air like knives. You feel the force of the wind nearly pull you from the saddle, but you hold firm, the adrenaline coursing through your veins.

The collision is violent. Sunfyre dives toward Vermithor, claws outstretched, but your dragon is older, wiser, and stronger. He twists at the last moment, slamming his massive tail into Sunfyre’s side. Aegon jerks in his saddle, clutching at his reins as Sunfyre shrieks in pain. Blood sprays through the air, bright and vivid, as Vermithor’s claws rake across Sunfyre’s golden scales.

"Is this the mighty king of Westeros?" you bellow, your voice carried by the wind. "Hiding behind a boy's dragon?"

Aegon’s response is drowned out by Sunfyre’s pained roars. Vermithor doesn’t relent. With a furious snarl, he lunges forward, sinking his teeth into Sunfyre’s neck. The golden dragon thrashes wildly, his tail lashing out and striking Vermithor’s side, but it’s not enough.

"Break him!" you command, gripping the reins tightly. Vermithor obeys with a brutal snap of his jaws. The sound of bone cracking echoes through the skies as Sunfyre’s neck is wrenched unnaturally to the side. Blood pours from the wound, a torrent of crimson that stains the golden dragon’s once-majestic scales. Sunfyre’s struggles weaken, his roars fading into gurgles, and then he falls, his body tumbling through the air like a broken doll.

Aegon screams, clutching desperately to his saddle as his dragon plummets. You don’t watch him hit the ground. Your attention is already shifting to the second threat.

Vhagar.

The ancient beast’s shadow falls over you like a stormcloud. Her roar is deafening, a sound that shakes the very heavens. Aemond sits astride her, his sapphire eye gleaming with malice as he points his blade at you.

“Did you think this would be easy?” Aemond calls, his voice cold and sharp. “You’ll find no victory here, cousin.”

“Come and claim it, then!” you shout back, spurring Vermithor forward. The two dragons close the distance in seconds, the clash of their bodies like thunder. Vermithor’s claws rake against Vhagar’s armored hide, tearing at the thick scales, while Vhagar snaps at Vermithor’s wings, her fangs narrowly missing the fragile membranes.

Aemond leans low, slashing out with his blade as you duck beneath the swing. “You’ll die screaming, like the traitor you are!” he snarls.

“You first!” you reply, swinging your own sword. The clang of steel on steel is lost in the chaos as the dragons spiral through the sky, locked in a deadly dance. Vhagar is larger, her sheer size giving her an advantage, but Vermithor is ferocious and unyielding, his age and experience matching her ferocity.

The sky becomes a blur of wings, claws, and blood. Vhagar’s tail slams into Vermithor’s side, sending you lurching in your saddle. You clutch at the reins, your heart pounding as you struggle to regain control. Vermithor roars in defiance, his jaws snapping at Vhagar’s throat. He manages to latch on, his teeth sinking into the tender flesh beneath her scales. Blood sprays, hot and sticky, coating you and your saddle.

Aemond yanks at Vhagar’s reins, pulling her away with a furious roar. “Kill him! Burn him to ash!” he commands. Vhagar rears back, her chest swelling as she prepares to unleash her flames.

“Dracarys!” you shout, and Vermithor answers. The two torrents of fire collide, the heat so intense it scorches the air around you. The force of the blast throws both dragons apart, their wings flailing as they struggle to stay aloft. You cling to the saddle, your vision blurred by smoke and ash.

And then it happens.

The two dragons charge at each other once more, their momentum unstoppable. They collide with such force that you feel the impact in your bones. Claws tear into flesh, teeth rip through scales, and blood rains from the sky in a crimson torrent. The screams of the dragons are deafening, a symphony of pain and fury.

You and Aemond are both thrown from your saddles as the dragons lock together, their massive bodies spiraling toward the ground. You hit the earth hard, the impact driving the air from your lungs. Pain radiates through your body, but you force yourself to your feet, your sword still clutched in your hand.

In the distance, Vermithor and Vhagar crash into the battlefield, their bodies a tangle of wings and limbs. Dust and debris rise around them, obscuring the scene. You stagger forward, determined to finish what you started.

Aemond emerges from the haze, his face twisted with rage. His sword gleams in the faint light, its edge coated in blood. “This ends here,” he growls, stalking toward you.

You raise your own blade, your grip steady despite the pain coursing through your body. “It does,” you reply, meeting his gaze. “But not the way you think.”

The two of you charge at each other, the clash of steel echoing through the battlefield as the dragons continue their brutal struggle behind you.

The clash of steel rings in your ears as you swing your blade at Aemond, his movements as sharp and calculated as your own. You’re both bloodied, sweat and grime mingling with the smears of red that coat your faces. The battlefield beneath your feet is slick with the lifeblood of men and dragons alike, a fitting stage for this deadly dance.

“You think you can kill me?” Aemond snarls, parrying your strike and stepping in close. His sapphire eye gleams with manic hatred. “I am a warrior, not a lord who hides behind his wife’s skirts. You are nothing but her puppet!”

The words sting, but they don’t shake your focus. “Better a puppet than a madman blinded by ambition,” you retort, sidestepping his thrust and slashing at his shoulder. Your blade connects, tearing through the leather and biting into flesh. Aemond grunts, staggering back, but his fury doesn’t waver.

Behind you, the guttural roars of Vermithor and Vhagar shake the earth. You spare a glance over your shoulder and see the two massive dragons locked in a death grip, their claws raking through each other’s flesh. Blood pours from gaping wounds in Vhagar’s side, painting her ancient scales a deeper shade of red. Vermithor, battered and bleeding, snaps his jaws around her throat, shaking her like a rabid beast. She thrashes, her wings beating wildly, but Vermithor doesn’t relent.

Aemond seizes the opportunity, lunging at you with a scream of rage. His blade slices through the air, catching your side. The pain is immediate, sharp and burning, and you cry out as blood seeps through your tunic. The wound slows you, but not enough to stop your counterattack. You raise your sword and swing upward, aiming for his head. He ducks, but your blade grazes his cheek, splitting the skin and sending a spray of blood across the ground.

“You’ll pay for that!” he roars, his voice unhinged. He charges again, driving you back with a flurry of brutal strikes. Each clash of your swords sends jolts of pain through your body, your wounded side weakening your defense. Aemond’s strength is relentless, and for a moment, it feels as though he might overpower you.

But you are not done yet.

With a desperate surge of energy, you twist your body, dodging his next strike and slamming the hilt of your sword into his ribs. He gasps, staggering, and you use the moment to close the gap. Raising your blade, you aim for his face.

He tries to block, but you’re faster. Your sword pierces his healthy eye, the blade sinking deep into the socket. His scream is inhuman, a sound of pure agony that echoes across the battlefield. Blood gushes from the wound, thick and dark, pouring down his face as he drops his sword and clutches at his ruined eye.

“You wanted to see the world burn,” you hiss through gritted teeth, twisting the blade. “Now you’ll see nothing at all.”

With a final thrust, you drive the sword deeper, the blade slicing into his brain. His body convulses violently, and then he falls to his knees, blood pouring from his eye and mouth. You wrench your blade free, and he collapses face-first into the dirt, his once-proud figure reduced to a lifeless husk.

The sound of Vhagar’s dying roar pulls your attention. You turn just in time to see Vermithor deliver the killing blow. His massive jaws clamp around her belly, tearing through scales and flesh to rip out her liver and entrails. The viscera spill onto the ground in a steaming, grotesque heap, the stench of blood and bile overwhelming. Vhagar’s massive body trembles, her wings twitching as she lets out a final, shuddering breath. Her eyes glaze over, and she slumps to the ground, defeated.

Vermithor stands over her, his bronze hide drenched in blood, his chest heaving with exertion. He lets out a victorious roar, a sound that shakes the heavens, before collapsing onto his haunches, his body trembling from his wounds.

You stagger forward, your own body screaming in protest. Blood drips from your side, your vision swimming as you take in the scene around you. The battlefield is chaos, but the tide has turned. The Hightower forces are in full retreat, their banners disappearing into the distance. Among them, you catch sight of Criston Cole, his armor smeared with blood as he flees with his men. The sight fills you with grim satisfaction.

But the victory feels hollow. The cost has been too high. It always is.

Your gaze shifts back to Vermithor, who watches you with weary, golden eyes. You place a trembling hand on his side, feeling the heat of his body and the steady rise and fall of his breath. “Rest, old friend,” you murmur, your voice hoarse. “You’ve earned it.”

Your thoughts drift to Rhaenyra, her face sharp and vivid in your mind’s eye. You promised her you would return, and you intend to keep that promise. Even now, as your body screams for rest and your wounds threaten to pull you under, you force yourself to move. Each step is agony, but you keep going, driven by the thought of her waiting for you.

You will return to her. You must.

And when you do, the war will not be over, but you will face it together.

[inkedells]

pairing: old!logan x f!reader

Logan is sick and tired of you treating him like he's fragile. He'll ignore his relentless pain to show you what it's like to be taken apart, rough and slow, then fast and agonizing.

wc: 3.5k of pure smut

warnings: heavy smut, lap sitting, fingering, oral (f!receiving and m!receiving), dirty talk, facials, p in v, ruined orgasms, snowballing, kind of angsty, the claws come out, logan is angry with you, kinda toxic, definitely mean, but still kind of sweet, pwp basically, blood, but it's not bloodplay, it's just logan not caring if he's hurt, if i missed any let me know.

Logan comes home and throws himself back on that torn-up leather sofa, thumb flicking his lighter while the other holds a cigar. It’s less of a distraction from the ache in his bones, and more of a device to push you away. Because if you think he’s tired or angry or hurting, you won’t ask him to fuck you.

It’s not like he doesn’t want you. Of course he does. It’s the sympathy in your eyes when he gets tired from just a couple of minutes of thrusting that he hates. The whispered, “It’s okay. baby, I can ride you.” The gentle touches across his body and his neck and his face and his beard. It all reeks of pity. And if you were to sit him down one day and ask him why he hates being taken care of, he wouldn’t have an answer. He would push the voice in his head down into the void that all the strength he had left fell in, the voice shrinking until it’s nothing as it screams, because I’ve never been taken care of, and I would’ve loved it back when being taken care of wasn’t my only choice.

But it’s fine. You wouldn’t ever ask him that question because he knows for a fact that you don’t know. If you did, you wouldn’t be climbing onto his lap quietly, hands rubbing his sides as you press kisses to his neck.

“I missed you, Logan,” You whisper. Your hips aren’t moving; He knows he sat here like this to avoid fucking you, but he almost wishes you were seeking exactly that. Sex, as embarrassing as it would be for him, is better than your sick love. He doesn’t think you love in the way lovers do. It’s the kind of love meant for sick puppies, or the lonely old woman sitting on the bus with all her belongings in plastic bags.

He turns his head to take a drag of his cigar. Silence.

You hold his face, forcing him to look at you as you kiss him. Slow, chaste, no tongue. He feels scrutinized by your touches, and something nervous seats itself deep in his belly.

“How was your day?” You ask, your gaze snapping between his eyes.

Logan closes them. “I’m tired,” He says flatly.

“I know. It’s okay.”

There it is again. Pity.

He scoffs. It’s quiet. Barely there. He didn’t mean to. He watches your face fall the smallest bit. A year ago, he wouldn’t have noticed, and if he would’ve, he would blurt out an apology. Now, he does notice, but he secretly wants to watch it fall even further if it means you’ll realize how much you’ve been hurting him.

You swallow, your thumb rubbing his cheekbone. “I found an American poetry anthology in the basement today. 20th Century. My favorite poem was in it.”

He mumbles, “In a Station of the Metro. T.S. Elliot.” Remembering the poem you told him about months ago sounds too much like sorry. He wishes he’d pretended to forget.

“Ezra Pound,” You correct. Your smile tells him he’s forgiven for an apology he never offered. “If you can recite it I’ll be impressed.”

“I’m not reciting a goddamn poem.” He sounds sarcastic, and it relieves you, but then you kiss him and he’s wound tight again.

You sigh as you pull back. “What’s bothering you, baby?”

“Nothing’s bothering—”

“What’s bothering you?” You interject.

He shakes his head, clenching his jaw. He makes the decision to sacrifice his dignity for the sake of stopping this conversation. You never could resist an orgasm, especially one caused by him. “Enough of that.”

“What?”

But he’s putting out his cigar and lifting you off his lap with a suppressed grunt, then pushing you down on the couch.

“Logan,” You protest.

He continues undoing the drawstring of your pajamas, with a kind of slippery urgency that tells you he's trying to shut you up more than he's trying to satiate his own desire.

You sit up straight, swatting his hand away. “Stop.”

He withdraws immediately, breathing hard through his nose as he looks down at the floor. He was wrong, before, about you not knowing. You definitely know, because you don’t place a loving hand on his thigh and you don’t kiss his shoulder. He’s grateful.

Instead, you observe his profile, then the quiet tremor in his hand. The impossible stillness of the rest of him. He tends to do that when his nerves are on fire. Thinks being a statue is what people who aren’t in chronic pain do.

“Don’t do that,” He mumbles, feeling your eyes on him. “I don’t need you feeling sorry, or whatever—whatever the fuck else goes through your head when you’re around me.”

You say nothing. That’s the most he’s said about his feelings in a while. He knows it, so he forces himself to say nothing, too. It doesn’t last long.

“I’m not dying.” His voice cracks a little at the end and he fights the urge to squeeze his eyes shut.

“I know.” The words come out in a tumble, as if you’re rushing to participate in his lie.

“Then stop looking at me like I’m dying.”

“Okay.” Tears prickle your eyes but you blink them away.

“Okay,” He repeats.

You take a deep breath. “But it’s okay to be cared for, Logan.”

He laughs incredulously, and suddenly his volume is rising and his voice is firm. “Would you just—Would you just quit being my fuckin’ mommy? Would you?”

He only lets your silence marinate for a second before he rushes in to kiss you, ignoring the cramps in his muscles as he tugs your neck forward roughly. You squeak against his mouth, fighting his impossible grip on you, but you give up with a shaky exhale through your nose when your efforts prove useless.

“I can take care of you, too,” He grits out. It would sound sweet if it weren’t for the frustration in his tone. He pushes you onto the couch the same way he did moments before as he opens your legs by your knees and settles between them. He sucks a dark mark onto your neck, his fingers digging bruises in your ribs.

“I know you can,” You reassure him. You can see where this is going. “And I love when you do.” You gasp when he pulls your shirt up over the curve of your breasts.

“No. You don’t.” He pinches one of your nipples and sucks the other into his mouth for a brief second. “It’s okay. I’ll show you so you don’t forget again. You won’t want to get ruined any other way.”

“Logan,” You sigh.

He hums against the soft skin just underneath your breast as his hands ravage your body. He begins to unsheathe the adamantium claws in one of his hands so he can rip your top open. It’s slow and excruciating, so he closes his eyes, but the pain is over too soon and his suspicions are confirmed when he opens his eyes to see them stuck halfway.

You don’t expect him to lean back and individually tug each blade free. There’s blood, and now it’s dripping onto your belly, and he mumbles something that sounds like an apology as he wipes the dots of red away with his thumb.

But the hazel in his eyes is alive again. You hope it’s you that did that. Hope it’s not the pain or the sight of his own blood. You want to ask him, just to make sure. You don’t like hurting, right? You just really like me—

He slices through your shirt, careful not to graze your skin, and you try to ignore the fact that he’s never that cautious with himself, but you can’t.

“Logan, you’re bleeding.” Your voice is unstable.

“It’ll heal,” He says quickly, passively. He wipes his burning palm on his wifebeater.

“But that takes a long time now.”

He meets your eyes, his movements frozen. He’s angry and you’re not stupid. You’re pitying him again. He needs you to stop fucking pitying him. When he speaks, his voice is deep and rough and slow, and you would be scared if he wasn’t your Logan. “Are you done?”

You don’t know what to say, so you just close your eyes and nod. You hear his claws retract faster than when they came out, and almost simultaneously, he’s shoving that same hand under your waistband as two of his calloused fingers push themselves into your cunt.

You arch toward him involuntarily, a ragged moan falling from your lips as he tugs your pajamas off your legs and spits on your pussy to ease the slide of his fingers.

Each groan he pulls from your throat is a step toward dispelling the doubt from your body. Doubt of his capabilities, of his strength, of his devotion to you.

“Beg me to fuck you,” He demands, fingering you roughly.

Your mind is cloudy at this point, from sadness or arousal or both, but you give him what he wants. “Fuck me,” You whisper, your eyelids about to flutter shut as you shed a tear.

But then you catch Logan smiling.

He grabs your jaw with his free hand, and you look at him immediately. “You’re gonna let me use it, right? Get myself off?” You lazily trace his features with your gaze—His nose, his wrinkles, his beard—because you know if it were your fingers instead he’d mistake it for tenderness and get mad again.

You nod, but it’s weak with how hazy everything is.

“Good girl.” 

“Please,” You sigh, “I need you inside of me. I need to—I need it.”

“I know. I know what you’re feeling before you feel it.” He lets the pad of his thumb draw quick circles on your clit. “What? Thought I couldn’t hear you playing with yourself in the shower? If I can hear your heartbeat when I walk through the door, what makes you think I wouldn’t have heard you whining my name?”

“Logan,” You sigh, your hips lifting off the couch, coaxing his fingers deeper for as long as possible before he’s shoving you back down with the heel of his palm.

“I’m gonna play with you now. I’ll fuck you after, don’t worry your pretty head about it.”

“What do you mean, play with me?” You breathe, fighting to keep your eyes open as he finds your g-spot.

He grins dirtily, in a way that makes your head spin and your thighs clench around his hand. You’re barely processing his words as he bends down to mumble in your ear, “Right when you’re about to make a mess on my fingers, I’m gonna stop. Then I’m gonna go down on you. And I’m gonna lick your pretty pussy, maybe even fuck you with my tongue if you’re good. And guess what? Guess what I’m gonna do when you’re this close?”

“You’re gonna stop,” You whine.

“I’m gonna stop,” He nods, and it’s mocking, but it’s gentle, and he’s fucking killing you with the way he’s talking right now. “But I’m not mean. I’ll give you a break. You can calm down when my dick is in your mouth, okay?”

“Okay,” You breathe, your hips unabashedly grinding on his fingers. But you want to reassure him he is mean, and you especially want to tell him how much you love it. “Logan, I’m gonna—”

He withdraws his fingers from you so fast it almost burns. You clench around nothing, your lower half spasming as your orgasm barely approaches before falling away again. Only a hint of pleasure is able to make it through the cracks, and you cling onto it, hoping if you focus hard enough, the wave will come back. It doesn’t. You should regret warning Logan that you were about to finish, but all you feel is comfort now that he’s finally proud of you again.

Another tear streams down the side of your face, landing in your hair. Logan’s watching you as he pets your thigh, his lips parted when he leans down over you. He kisses your wet cheek softly, his beard rough on your skin. It’s unlike him to offer you affection this gracefully during sex. It’s always shaky limbs and suppressed groans and dirty kisses. Both of you know it. 

He moves down your body, until his face is hovering over your cunt. He doesn’t have his reading glasses on, so he has to pull his head back and squint as he spreads your folds with his thumbs, studying what you look like. He licks a stripe over you. A second, longer one, before he zeroes in on your clit. You can do nothing except lay there and take it as your hips twitch from overstimulation under his firm hands.

“Oh my god,” You whisper, your fingers twisting in his hair. “F-Fuck.”

He moans at that, pressed right up against you, the sound deep and delicious and vibrating. “Feel good?” He asks teasingly with a nip to your inner thigh.

“What do—What the fuck do you think?”

He breathes a laugh. It’s short and airy, not frustrated like before, and a warmth ignites itself in the back of your mind. It’s overpowering even the feeling of his mouth licking and sucking your most sensitive area; It’s the relief that he’s still hiding the Logan you fell in love with somewhere in there.

You wind your fingers in his hair and scratch his scalp. You try to do it lovingly, although it comes across as sexual and Logan’s breath hitches in pleasure against your pussy instead. So as you suppress a gasp from the pure skill of his tongue, you show your affection differently—you hold the wounded hand he has resting face-up beside your hip. The cuts embedded there are easy to avoid as your thumb rubs the lines of his palm, because even though you can’t see his hand, the puffiness surrounding each slash on his skin are your cues.

He doesn’t move his hand away, but his tongue falters for a fraction of a second before slowing down.

The kind of love you’re pressing into Logan’s skin with each gentle stroke is unrecognizable to him. It’s not the pitiful love he’s so used to. He thinks it might be the opposite. Admiration. Reverence.

“I’m so empty,” You whisper, bringing your hands to grope Logan’s biceps. They’re sweaty and hard and flexing under your touch, and you wonder if he would let you ride them one day.

When your climax starts to creep up on you, it’s thanks to the image of Logan forcing you to lick your arousal clean off his bicep. Indulgently swirling your tongue along his pronounced veins, savoring the taste of his sweat mixed with yourself. He’d probably say somthing like, fuckin’ filthy. Getting yourself off on my arm. Who does that? Are you that obsessed with me?

Logan feels you squeezing his tongue, harder than all the other times before, so he withdraws at the last moment, ruining your orgasm once again.

 You convulse silently, your breath coming out stuttered with your twitching jaw. As if he can read your mind, he unbuckles his belt and removes his pants and boxers. But he doesn’t strip himself of his wifebeater, stained with blood.

It’s the hottest thing in the world.

You blink, and suddenly Logan is hovering above you with his cock over your face. He rubs his leaking tip on your cheeks first, then your lips, and when you open your mouth to take him, he moves his cock away and nudges your jaw shut with his free hand, shaking his head.

“Not yet.”

A whine lodges itself in your throat as Logan spreads his pre-come over the plush of your lips. It escapes only when he lets go of his cock in favor of massaging his wetness across your lips and on your tongue with his thumb. His hard cock is bobbing above you, almost tantalizingly, the occasional drip of arousal landing itself somewhere near your eyes, then your hair, then your mouth, and you watch Logan’s brow furrow as you try to lick whatever you can.

His resolve snaps. A calloused hand squeezes at your cheeks until your jaw falls open. His cock is in your mouth before you can process it, thick and heavy and wet. So. Incredibly. Wet. You start to wonder how it’s even possible that he’s this hard at his age, but you know he wouldn’t want you to be wondering that, so you happily push the thought away.

You suck your cheeks in, swirling your tongue around his tip as you bob your head to meet the subtle, almost imperceivable thrust of his hips. You’re taking it well, you know you are. So you keep taking it, until Logan can no longer successfully suppress his moans and his hips are jerking out of rhythm.

He moves back until his cock slips out of your mouth. “I don’t wanna come like this. Wanna fuck you.”

“Yeah, yes. Fuck me. Please.”

He stands up and turns you on your front, your knees pressing into the soft couch cushions with your ass in the air.

“Logan,” You plead as you feel his tip pressing at your entrance.

“I’ve got you,” He says quietly, pushing in until half of his cock is comfortably squeezed by your cunt. Both your breathing is loud and labored, and there’s a specific kind of intimacy in knowing you’re both feeling this identical need. Overwhelming and hot and unquenchable by anything other than each other.

His first thrust is shallow, but it ruins you all the same. With how thick he is, it should feel like an intrusion, and it does. But all you can think about is how perfectly he fits inside of you, filling you extraordinarily with only a few inches.

“Fuck,” Logan breathes. “Look at that.” He traces around your entrance with his thumb. “Stretching so wide to take me.”

You moan, pressing your cheek against the sofa as you rock with his thrusts. He still hasn’t pressed all the way in yet, and you’re growing impatient. “Come on,” You urge, pushing yourself back to force more of his cock into you.

You expect him to chastise you for being so greedy, but he listens to you instead with a slow, full thrust. His tip nudges your cervix with how deep he is, and a ragged moan escapes you. “Yes,” You whine, “Oh god, yes.”

Logan’s breaths are coming out heavy through his nose, quick and occasionally intertwined with a grunt. His thrusts are getting quicker, and it’s starting to burn, but you welcome every sensation he has to offer you. He pulls out, spits on his cock, then shoves himself back inside, and this time you’re both unabashedly moaning the minute you’re joined again. 

His fingers dig in the plush of your ass as he observes himself disappearing into you. It hurts, but you love it. He knows you do, so he spanks you quickly before gripping you and rutting against you again.

“I love when you fuck me,” You whisper, feeling ashamed as soon as the confession leave you. “When you properly fuck me.”

He slows for a moment so he can watch his cock glisten with how wet you are. “I know.” He picks back up his punishing pace.

Your eyes begin to water, from pain or pleasure, you can’t tell. “I love you.”

“I know,” He repeats, this time breathier. His hips stutter. You can tell he’s close.

“I want it on my face,” You tell him quickly, his impending orgasm giving you no time to worry about being too forward.

He pulls out again, letting you turn onto your back as he shifts up your body. He jerks himself furiously, but you swat his hand away and take it upon yourself to stroke him.

“Come for me,” You tell him honestly, softly. His eyes squeeze shut and his lips part around a trembling exhale.

He groans as his release coats your face in long stripes. Some of it even lands in your hair, but you don’t care. Your own fingers work your clit as you stick your tongue out and taste him. Logan bends down to kiss you, chest heaving and hands shaky, and you rub yourself faster as you swap his release between the two of you with a hum. He pulls back to let you swallow, then he kisses your cheeks with his rough beard, uncaring about the mess on your face.

You don’t know you’re coming until it’s over and you’re breathless, and it’s almost excruciating with how much he’s ruined you, but you’re so exhausted you can’t find it in yourself to dwell on it a second longer.

You wrap your arms around his neck and tug him down for another kiss because you can hardly remember the one he just gave you.

“I’m sorry I had been treating you all wrong,” You say carefully.

“It doesn’t matter anymore.” His voice is rough.

You nod, your lips brushing his as you smooth sweaty strands of hair away from his forehead. These touches are hard for him. Any variation of your chaste affection is a reminder that he’s not really Logan anymore.

But the shame in it is gone. Replaced by the reassurance that he can still surround you with safety and firm hands and blatant desire;

And for a moment, he’s his old self again.

A/N: it's been so long since i've written anything, but logan has been consuming my brain for weeks so i had to get this out. i hope it's true to his character. <3 also, my asks are open, so feel free to request anything you want to read about.

[hxnbi]

⸻ ღ ❝ WHAT IF I... ❞

you pop the question, asking him, “what if i disappeared one day?" to gauge his reaction

ft. hayato suo, yamato endo, choji tomiyama, umemiya hajime, ren kaji, haruka sakura, kyotaro sugishita, jo togame x gn. reader (separate)

ღ HAYATO SUO ─ ❀ °. ⁺ ♡

He tilts his head to the side. "Whatever do you mean by that?" A brief flash of confusion crossed SUO's face before the ever-present smile of his returned.

"I mean, like, what if I just, from out of nowhere, went poof one day? What would you do?" you clarified with a smile. 

You couldn't quite figure out what was going through his mind as he let out a pensive hum, his index finger rhythmically tapping against his cheek, appearing to be in a deep moment of thought. Granted, you never did know what Suo is thinking about, but something appeared to be different this time.

Suo knew that the question you asked was a mere hypothetical, similar to the ones where you'd find on random scenarios online—meant to be a casual inquiry intended to gauge his reaction, so he didn't give it much concern. In fact, he leaned into it.

"Well then, if that's the case, as your boyfriend." He leaned down to whisper in your ear, "It's only right for me to find you and make sure you’re safe, isn't it?" 

He says it so matter-of-factly with a hefty amount of confidence that undoubtedly makes your heart flutter. There's no hesitation, no doubt in his voice, as if it's the most natural thing in the world. But the outside is indeed never what it appears to be, but also what can be the most deceiving. Suo doesn't worry too much about your question upfront, but there would be times when his mind would wander, drifting back to that single conversation that haunted his thoughts. What implored you to ever ask him that? 

And so, over the next few days and weeks, Suo would watch you with even more attentiveness than he already did, which was already considerable. Being by your side meant everything to him, and he couldn't imagine life without you if that were to ever ring true. After a few days of thinking, Suo's answer has not changed and will never change, but the realm of possibility that you might disappear will forever linger in his mind.

ღ YAMATO ENDO ─ ❀ °. ⁺ ♡

ENDO, with his piercing, sweatdropping gaze, doesn't even take a minute to look at you, and, instead, at himself. Not in the literal sense, but inwardly. He scrutinizes his every action, every word, trying to decipher what could he could’ve done or said to have prompted such a question from you.

"Disappear?" he asks with a tone of sharp curiosity as he finally meets your nervous gaze. "Is that what you really want?"

Cupping his chin, all with the expression that he's about to beat someone half to death, Endo takes a quiet moment to himself and thinks about your question more thoroughly, which only makes you more anxious, in all honesty. 

With a sheepish laugh, you attempted to steer the conversation to a different subject, but Endo was having none of it. His intense focus was right then and there for you to answer.

Endo sits back down, covering his face with his calloused hand, letting out a low chuckle, "You must be either naive or plain stupid if you ever think that's going to happen on my watch.”

"H-Huh?"

"Because you're never leaving me." Endo’s voice carries utter conviction, a lifelong promise wrapped in a singular statement.

Endo snickers a bit from your seemingly adorable reaction before fading into an expression of distaste. His eyes bore into yours, filled with an emotion you can't quite place. "I don't know what brought this on, but let me make one thing clear. You're not going anywhere. Not without me."

He reaches out, his hand finding yours, gripping it firmly. You can feel the roughness of his skin, the callousness from all his previous fights, the strength in his hold, and it grounds you. A chuckle escapes him as he leans back, the seriousness melting away as a mischievous grin spreads across his face from ear to ear. "Besides, who else is going to put up with your atrocious cooking?"

ღ CHOJI TOMIYAMA ─ ❀ °. ⁺ ♡

CHOJI takes a moment to think. "Hmmm, well then. I'll just find you again! Simple and easy! Don’t you think?!”

You laugh alongside him, not having the heart to continue the conversation. But unbeknownst to you, Choji's light-hearted response hides a deeper concern. Choji may act childish, but he's not stupid. He knows that he's not perfect, and in fact, he's a very flawed human being who has done far more harm than he'd ever like to admit, and certainly not to his lover…

Thus, throughout the day, you would be subjected to Choji clinging onto you. Whether you like it or not, he becomes your shadow, sticking to you like glue. As for bathroom breaks? Well, sucks to be you, that's not going to happen without him hovering nearby like a mosquito.

You knew what this meant. Choji's playful manner masks the underlying fear of losing you, and he doesn't let you out of his sight. Whether it's following you to the kitchen or tagging along to every errand, Choji's constant presence lingering over your every move is both endearing and slightly overwhelming. He jokes and laughs, trying to keep the mood light, but you can see the worry in his eyes whenever he thinks you're not looking. It's clear that the thought of being without you is something he can't bear. Just thinking about how his life would be if you left was enough of a nightmare that he decides that possibility would never be considered.

Choji's answer remains constant, but don't let that fool you, his words are only the half of it. He'll never let you go, not on his watch.

ღ HAJIME UMEMIYA ─ ❀ °. ⁺ ♡

UMEMIYA is immediately alarmed by your question, pausing right in the midst of caring for his plants to turn to you with a rather distressed frown that deepened with every second. He jumps to grab your arm, perhaps in fear of you leaving right then and there, and asks with a nervous laugh, "Ahah… you're joking, right?”

…Was this supposed to be some kind of dare from Hiragi or Tsubaki?

And his grip will not loosen until you tell him every single detail, tenfold. Unlike the usual energetic demeanour he broadcasts to the world, Umemiya doesn't even try to hide the fact that he's worried, scared, terrified even, with all but the absolute worst scenarios surfacing in his mind. Were you being threatened in some way because of him? Or… was it something about him?

On the surface, he knows that you asked that question in a hypothetical sense, but that doesn't lessen his fear that it could happen, and your bringing it up helped trigger it. His past memories come right back to haunt him again.

And without thinking, Umemiya embraces you in a bone-crushing hug. "I-I don't know what made you want to say that. Please… Hit me, get mad at me, yell at me, hate me even, but please, don't ever leave me.”

His grip tightens around you, desperation evident in the way he clings to you as if you might vanish at any moment. You can feel the tremor in his hands, the rapid beat of his heart against your ear. It breaks your heart to see him like this, so vulnerable and afraid. You gently stroked his back, whispering soothing words to calm his frayed nerves. Slowly, his breathing steadies, and he relaxes a bit in your arms, but the fear in his eyes still remains. It's clear that the thought of losing you terrifies him more than anything else.

His mind races, no, refuses to accept the thought of you ever disappearing from him. His answer was clear. He was never going to let that happen, not without a reason for closure. And so, Umemiya's efforts to spend more time with you would only be further amplified from there. 

Waking up in the morning? Umemiya would be out your door soon enough with a bed-in-breakfast. Getting groceries? Umemiya will once again be there to be your personal bag-handler and bodyguard. You'd have to reassure him plenty in order to convince him that nobody is out to get you and that you aren’t in danger by any means. But even then, that was not going to work either, oh no. 

As the leader of Furin, Umemiya would make sure that you were protected at all times, sending only the best and closest friends to watch over you and make sure that you were safe. Sakura would snort and mutter under his breath, clicking his tongue, "that guy is overdoing it," only to receive a stern but anxious look from Nirei and a withering glare from Hiragi and especially, if in the presence of the man himself, Umemiya, would receive a look that could shoot literal bullets right into his skull.

How on earth could you tell him by that point that it was all a joke…?

ღ REN KAJI ─ ❀ °. ⁺ ♡

Admittedly, KAJI does not think much of it as he continues to listen to his music with your head resting comfortably on his lap. What do you mean you're just going to leave? Without him? Impossible. 

He hums before going back to indulging his lollipop, which, by all means, was his solace. But later on, Kaji's mind drifts back to the question you asked. His eyebrows fold into two thinly knitted lines as he processes what could ever be your reasoning for asking such a thing. Not even the most relaxing of music could calm his mind as he begins to overthink every little detail of your relationship, replaying every conversation, every moment you've shared, searching for clues or hints he might have missed that made you want to think that.

The thought of you leaving gnaws at him—a rather unsettling and even unfamiliar feeling that he can't shake off no matter how hard he tries. Kaji debates with himself whether to bring it up with you again or let it slide, not wanting to seem insecure but also desperate for reassurance and that what he heard wasn't actually true.

His heart races with each passing thought, and he finds himself pacing back and forth while outside your school building, awaiting you to come out, trying to make sense of his swirling emotions. That is, until you ask him with a confused frown what he was doing.

He doesn't wait for a response but instead pulls you straight into his arms. Kaji grabs both your shoulders and apologizes. He stares right into your wide eyes, and he finally confesses, "If you disappeared… then I wouldn't know what to do with myself."

Kaji gulps in the air like someone who's drowned. He hardly even knew what to do with himself, just pondering the answer about a mere possibility. If that ever came to fruition, he'd be utterly lost. Though he guards his heart carefully, he's unrestrained with his body, whether for comfort or for pleasure.

He holds you firmly. Implacably. He will hold you all night if needs must, and throughout the day. His grip shifts to a tight hug as if trying to squeeze out all the sadness with his strong arms. "So please, don't."

With a heartfelt sigh, the tightness in your shoulders relaxed and you caressed his back with a gentle hand, all while comforting with your voice—the same voice Kaji grew to love with all his heart.

ღ HARUKA SAKURA ─ ❀ °. ⁺ ♡

Rolls his eyes. "What do you mean you're just going to disappear?" SAKURA clicks his tongue. "As if that's ever going to happen."

But in reality, despite his outward words, Sakura is far more concerned than he initially lets on. His composure can only stretch so far until he loses it. Quite literally. He may put on a brave face, but the thought of you vanishing haunts him. He starts by subtly interrogating your friends, your family, and anyone who might know something. His questions are cloaked in casual conversation—well, as casual as Sakura thinks—but the urgency in his eyes betrays his true feelings.

He becomes much more protective from then on, always by your side, watching you with a worried gaze that he often tries to mask. But you, in fact, do notice the change, the way Sakura hovers a little closer to you when he's, without exception, extremely volatile to physical touch, his touches lingering a little longer, and his blatant need for confirmation that you're not going to leave. 

Until, one day, out of nowhere, Sakura answered the question. "If you leave… then I won't stop until I find you. That's it," he muttered in a voice so low that you could hardly believe it, your eyes widening in surprise.

"Haru, could you say that again?" you asked, voice trembling with emotion.

“Huh?”

“Just now, could you repeat it?”

Sakura grumbled, scrunching his flushed crimson face into a grimace. "Y-You idiot!! I already said it!!!"

"But I want to hear it again…" you pouted, feigning sadness, making Sakura blush even further, his ears a deep crimson.

"Tch… I'm just telling you, if you disappear one day, I'm just going to find you, and I'll keep trying until I do."

ღ KYOTARO SUGISHITA ─ ❀ °. ⁺ ♡

SUGISHITA is eerily silent. Usually, that wouldn't be as much cause for concern, but there was something different in Sugishita's expression that unnerved you. Disappearing? That was a joke, right? No… you probably meant something else. You did mention that you planned to go out to buy groceries later that week. Could it be because of that? Or perhaps…

Sugishita, in his inward panic, grabs your arm with a grip tight enough to completely cut off the blood circulation to the rest of your body. "You're… going to leave? How? …When? W-Why?"

You could see that Sugishita was becoming increasingly anxious, his mind seeming to be practically in another dimension. With a pat on his head, you reassure him that you meant it all as a hypothetical question and that you aren't going to leave by any means. But the damage had been done. Sugishita, being the worrywart, needed far more confirmation than just that.

And just like Choji, for the next few days, Sugishita would be watching your moves like a hawk, standing at your side, towering over you. His eyes follow your every move. His piercing eyes staring into your soul felt almost suffocating, but it was clear that he couldn't bear the thought of losing you, even for a single moment.

Umemiya, with his usual bravado, burst out into laughter as he claps Sugishita's flushed cheeks repeatedly, reassuring him once more that it was nothing but a mere misunderstanding and a curiosity for his answer on his part. Hiragi agreed, nodding his head along.

Nonsense, Sugishita thinks with a wry face. He will be the one to ensure your safety, replaced by a type of intensity that makes you feel, while protected, also slightly on edge with the burning stare that he insists on maintaining to keep watch, even when you shoo him away.

You knew that his actions came from a place of love from when you initially asked him that question, but even so, did you really need him to stand outside your classroom door…?

ღ JO TOGAME ─ ❀ °. ⁺ ♡

Your words would kick his mind into gear almost instantaneously. TOGAME's thoughts raced, his aloof demeanour spinning around in circles like a pertueral carousel as he considered the possibility. Togame eventually came to the harrowing conclusion that he wasn't enough for you, that you felt neglected, or worse, unhappy being with him. 

He stared at you, his eyes wide. "What do you mean by 'disappear'?" he asked, his voice trembling a bit despite his efforts to keep it steady.

Just the mere thought of that made his stomach churn and his chest tighten. He couldn't bear the idea of losing you, even if through the lens of a mere hypothetical question. Togame, usually so stoic and composed, felt his facade crumble before your very eyes. Regardless, he was still intent on proving his worth and winning you back, all in the name of rectifying whatever he had failed to do.

You could see the pure, unfiltered, raw emotion in his eyes, the sheer terror of losing you. "Oh no, Jo, I didn't mean it seriously! I was just curious," you said in hopes of soothing him, but the worry etched on his face didn't fade. Not in the slightest.

"...it's not something I can just ignore," he said, voice growing firmer. "If you ever feel that way, if you ever think about leaving, please, talk to me first and we can communicate… Let me fix whatever is wrong. l, whatever it is. Because the thought of you not being in my life is unbearable…" He reached out, taking your hands in his shaky ones. “You want to know my answer? I would search for you everywhere, and do anything to bring you back. You mean far too much to me to just let you go…”

His vulnerability was laid bare, even to your own surprise, who didn't expect this from a mere question. But that’s just it. It wasn’t a mere question to him.

Togame would do anything to prove his love to you, to ensure that you never felt the need to ask such a question again. And in that, he certainly succeeded, because you would never doubt his devotion to you again, not that you did to begin with, but knew that it was a slippery slope and a topic to avoid when with him.

But, for good measure, after that conversation fiasco, Togame had taken up a new hobby. And you were more than happy until you realized what that "hobby" of his entailed, as friends or practically anybody who was an unfortunate passerby, would immediately notice a bodyguard-like figure constantly by your side. That is, until they saw the brute clinging onto you like a man desperate for even a whiff of your attention.

©hxnbi. comments, reblogs, and likes are always appreciated ♡

[luveline]

hellooo!! im not sure if your requests are open so feel free to ignore this but i was wondering if you could write for tasm!peter where the reader just got her wisdom teeth removed and she’s all loopy on anesthetics and forgets peter is her boyfriend? i saw this video where this girl got her wisdom teeth pulled and forgot she was dating her boyfriend and fell in love with him all over again😭😭

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZPR7sGQo5/

thank you for your request! ♡ fem, 1k

"Here she is," the nurse says gently, walking you out with his arm behind your back. "Alright, say hi to Peter." 

"Hi, Peter," you mumble, eyes on the floor. 

Peter grins at you, worry warm at the back of his throat. "Hey. Is that everything?" he asks, nodding at the nurses paper bag of aftercare. 

"Everything you'll need." The nurse helps Peter take over, hoisting your arm over his shoulders before stepping away. "Alright, feel better, okay? And don't hesitate to call if something comes up. We're here to look after you." 

You seem appreciative in your fog, but it's hard to tell. Peter curls his arm around your hip and gives it a soft rub as he leads you to the stairs. Whoever devised the floor plan here had murder on their mind —the second floor is completely inaccessible. Luckily, Peter has a lot of strength at his disposal. 

You can feel it. "Woh, you're strong," you murmur. 

"You know that already." His grip on you tightens, pretty much carrying you down the tight staircase. 

"Do I?" you ask. You make a sound like you're hurting, a squeak. 

"I'd hope so." At the end of the staircase, he sits you down, worried you're not feeling well. "You okay? I can princess carry you if you need me to." 

You look at him with wide eyes. He turns to check there's no one standing behind him, but you're really looking at him. "What?" he asks, touching your knee, imploring. "You look like you've seen a ghost." 

"You're Peter?" you ask. 

Ah, the amnesiac effect of anaesthetic. His touch turns comforting, stroking your thigh with as much care as he can drive into his palm alone. "That's me. Hey, if you're forgetting me, does that mean you're not mad at me for last Friday anymore? 'Cos I know you said you forgive me but I can tell it still pisses you off–" 

Your eyes fall to his hand. "Why would I be mad at you?" you ask. 

"I finished the milk and put the carton back in the fridge, even though I promised I'd stop doing it. You see the jug and think there's milk left. We were gonna have macaroni and cheese..." He nudges your fingers with his. "Are you okay? You don't look like yourself."

"What do I usually look like?" 

"Not so, you know. Daunted." 

"You're really handsome," you whisper, refusing to meet his eye. 

"Oh, you think so?" 

You nod like your head is too heavy. You're embarrassed, you sweetheart, oh my god Peter could cry into your lap. 

"Let's get you to the car, baby." 

"Where are we going?" The gauze gives you the world's most adorable lisp, and it turns your gasp into a hum as Peter stands you up. 

"Home." 

"Together?" 

"Yeah, we live together. It's a nice place, and you're a great decorator, you know? It's cozy." 

"Thank you," you say shyly. 

You're not not shy with him, but it's been a long time since you got so quiet over a practically innocuous comment. He wants to see how you'll react to real compliments, over the top stuff that he one hundred percent means. It's a little mean, but when will you ever be like this again? 

He helps you out past the desk and onto the street to your car where it's parked a half a block down. "Don't worry about all this, okay? I'm gonna take such good care of you, sweetheart. There's an ice pack and a brand new comforter with your name on it waiting at home." Peter smiles at your starry eyes as they flash to his, amazed at his simple plans. "How does that sound, beautiful? Is there anything you want before we head home? Anything that would make you feel better?" 

"You're gonna take care of me?" you ask breathlessly. 

"That's my job. That's my number one boyfriend duty." 

"You're my boyfriend?" 

"I am!" he says happily, laughing as he speaks. "For a while. I've been trying to take things further but you're always really shy about getting married–" 

"You want to get married? To me?" 

Peter presses a soft kiss to your cheek. "You're the only person I'd ever want to get married to. We already picked the flowers–" 

"We did?" 

He laughs again, all your questions. He loves regular you but loopy you is especially endearing. "Last time I got super drunk, yeah. You never let me forget it." 

"So you love me?" you ask, stopping short.

"I love you so much," he says immediately, hugging you into his side. He dots another kiss against the top of your head. "You should remember that even if you don't remember me." 

"I love you," you say quietly. 

Peter doesn't know if that's your memory returning, or if you've fallen in love with him in the last fifteen minutes. He could easily fall in love with you that quickly, and yet he's still amazed at your confession. 

"That's good. That's great. Thank you, sweetheart," he says, desperate to hold your face in his hands but weary of causing you future pain. "There's your car," —he points, lowering his head to yours to make sure you can see it, hand now protectively held between your shoulder blades— "let's go home now. Yeah?" 

You start walking again at his requests. He can pretty much see the steam rising off of your face, giddy with happiness at these revelations. You're together, you're in love, and you think he's handsome. He wonders what you'll have to say about his biceps in this state of delirium; you go crazy for his arms sober. 

Which reminds him. 

"I totally have another secret to tell you," he says, unlocking the car as you approach and helping you into the passenger seat. 

"What is it?" you ask. 

Peter closes you in and skirts around the door, climbing into the driver's seat. He's glad that New York is as ridiculously loud as ever, because not even the closed doors or your sodden gauze can smother the way you shriek.

"My boyfriend is Spider-Man?!" 

[dissapointu]

Thinking about Arcane with a partner who is terminally ill and has to stay in bed hooked up to a bunch of needles and tubes

Thank you for all your work you are amazing <3

Thank you so much for your kind words!

I swear we are allergic to happiness-

Jinx

Jinx hides her pain behind manic energy, trying to make you smile even when it feels like her heart is shattering. She brings you handmade gadgets, some of which are purely for fun—tiny robots that dance or explode into colorful sparks, filling the room with chaos and laughter. But when the exhaustion hits, she curls up beside your bed, her fingers tracing the tubes and needles with a quiet reverence. In those moments, her vulnerability surfaces, and she whispers about her fears of losing you.

Vi

Vi hates feeling powerless, and seeing you like this is her worst nightmare. She refuses to leave your side, bringing you books and stories of her past to keep your mind off the pain. Her hands are always gentle when adjusting your blanket or holding yours, but her emotions often spill over. When no one else is around, she breaks down, pressing her forehead against your arm, her tears soaking into the fabric as she begs you to hold on just a little longer.

Sevika

Sevika is practical, channeling her pain into action. She spends hours ensuring you’re as comfortable as possible, fixing equipment when it malfunctions and running errands for anything you need. At night, when she thinks you’re asleep, she sits by your bed, nursing a drink and talking to you like everything’s normal—about work, about Zaun, about how much she admires your strength. If you catch her in a rare moment of vulnerability, she’ll brush it off, saying, “You’re the tough one here, not me.”

Silco

Silco is a man of control, and your condition reminds him of his helplessness. He spares no expense in seeking the best care for you, but he’s always haunted by the sight of you so frail. His visits are quiet but full of unspoken devotion—he reads reports aloud, his voice calm and steady, though his eyes flicker to your face more often than the papers. Late at night, when no one else is around, he gently brushes your hair back and murmurs promises he knows he might not be able to keep.

Vander

Vander is a steady presence, his warmth grounding you even in your worst moments. He sits by your bed, holding your hand as he tells you stories from his youth or hums a soothing tune. He often brings the children by to cheer you up, their laughter filling the room. Vander tries to stay strong for you, but his hands tremble when he thinks you’re not looking. His love is unwavering, and he’ll remind you every day how much you mean to him.

Ekko

Ekko struggles with the weight of seeing you like this, but he refuses to let despair take over. He spends his time crafting small inventions to make your life easier or bring a smile to your face. When the silence becomes too much, he talks about his dreams for the future, painting vivid pictures of what could be. He clings to hope, even when it feels fragile, and does everything in his power to make sure you know you’re not alone.

Jayce

Jayce throws himself into researching treatments, convinced he can find a way to help you. When he’s not in the lab, he’s by your side, his hand resting over yours as he explains his latest breakthroughs or reminisces about the moments you’ve shared. He hides his fear behind his optimism, but when you tell him it’s okay to let go of the facade, he breaks down, resting his head on your shoulder and letting his tears fall freely.

Viktor

Viktor is no stranger to pain and illness, and he understands your struggles on a deeply personal level. He spends hours at your bedside, quietly tinkering with gadgets or reading aloud from books he thinks you’ll enjoy. His touch is gentle, his words soft, and his presence unwavering. He hates that he can’t fix this, but he makes sure you never feel alone, offering comfort in the form of quiet companionship and shared understanding.

Caitlyn

Caitlyn is your pillar of strength, calm and composed even when her heart is breaking. She works tirelessly to ensure you have the best care, pulling strings and calling in favors to get you what you need. She’s a constant presence, her hand often resting on yours as she talks about the world outside. When she’s overwhelmed, she steps outside for a moment to compose herself, returning with a renewed determination to make the time you have left as meaningful as possible.

Mel Medarda

Mel is a force of grace and composure, but your condition shakes her to her core. She fills your room with beauty—art, flowers, and soft fabrics—to make your space a sanctuary. She sits with you for hours, her voice soothing as she shares stories from her childhood or discusses philosophy and politics. Her mask only slips in the quiet moments, her hand lingering on yours as she murmurs about how much she loves you, her eyes shining with unshed tears.

Ambessa Medarda

Ambessa is not one to show weakness, but your illness makes her feel a vulnerability she hasn’t known in years. She takes charge of your care, ensuring you’re surrounded by the best physicians and resources. Though her visits are often brief, they’re filled with quiet intensity. She sits by your bed, her large hand covering yours as she promises to protect you, her voice steady even as her heart aches.

Maddie Nolen

Maddie is practical and nurturing, spending her days by your side to ensure you’re comfortable and cared for. She’s always quick with a joke or a story to lift your spirits, her warmth a balm against the cold reality of your condition. But when the laughter fades and the room grows quiet, she leans her head against your shoulder, her voice soft as she tells you how much you mean to her, her heart aching with every word.

Lest

Lest hates seeing you like this, but she channels her emotions into quiet devotion. She watches over you like a guardian, her sharp eyes scanning every tube and needle to ensure everything is in order. She often sits beside your bed, her tail curling around her legs as she talks about the world outside, filling the silence with her soothing voice. When you catch her staring at you with a mix of love and sorrow, she quickly looks away, her ears twitching, but her hand remains firmly in yours.

[imprfctlyok]

good things

logan howlett x reader

Summary: You and Logan hadn't had sex in weeks, and now that you had a bit of alone time celebrating your anniversary, you figured it was time to make it up to each other.

Warnings: afab!reader, MDNI, smut w/ plot, pet names (bub, princess, doll)

Aromatic herbs and garlic wafted throughout the house as you sat on the counter watching Logan cook.

If someone had told you in the past that you'd be living with this gruff, angry man, settled down and watching him make you dinner, you would have laughed in their faces. The man in front of you was definitely not the same one you met a year ago, but keeping him company as he prepared your anniversary dinner was definitely something you could get used to.

You swirled the red wine in your glass around, studying the strain of Logan's muscles under his white wife-beater. It had been so long since you had touched him, felt the lines and ridges of his arms and chest. Work had made it difficult for you two to find...alone time. By the time either of you made it home and into bed, one of you (usually Logan) would be too tired to start anything. You didn't say anything, because you were also tired, but also because you knew how much he needed the rest. Being in such a close proximity to him now, with nothing but time on your hands...it was too tempting.

Logan turned around, a slight smile growing on his face as he leaned on the counter and picked up his glass of wine. By no means was he a wine drinker, but today was a special occasion, and so he swallowed it down if for nothing else but your own sake. "Almost done doll. Ten minutes and then we can eat."

You clicked your glass against his and downed the rest of your wine. "Cheers to that. I'm starving. Wanna..." you trailed off, sliding your empty wineglass towards him, "...fill me up?"

A mischievous glint flickered in Logan's eye, but he didn't rise to your bait. His gaze never leaving yours, he slid the bottle of wine over and poured more in your glass, leaning just far enough over the counter to give you a kiss on the forehead with a dark chuckle. "Thirsty bub?"

You took his intense staring as a challenge, leaning back in your chair and lifting your glass to your lips, sensually tipping the liquid into your mouth. "Parched."

A smile formed on his lips. Shaking his head, he turned his back towards you again, gathering the dirty cooking utensils to dump into the sink. You were 100% certain that the wine must have been making you overzealous, because your before your brain could catch up with your movements, you had slipped out of your chair and padded to the other side of the counter. Logan stiffened as your set down your glass and snaked your arms around his midsection, pressing your face into his back.

"What's this?" he asked jokingly, spinning around to face you. His strong hands immediately found your waist, gripping them firmly as he pulled you closer.

"Lo," you said, so quiet it was almost a whisper. "We've both been working, and we haven't...it been a long time since we...you know."

Hesitation crept over his face. "Bub, I—"

"Logan, please." You reached up on tippy toes, pressing small kisses into his jaw. "I've missed you."

With a show of strength that made heat pool into your stomach, Logan lifted you up and set you on the counter, nudging himself between your thighs. The breath was stolen from your lungs, and that familiar ache in your core that you had pushed down for weeks returned.

"Princess," he whispered, his breath fanning against your ear. "There is nothing more I wanna do right now than fuck you right here on this counter. It's all I've been thinking about. But you've been working hard, and I'm sure you're tired. You need rest."

He's about to pull away from you again, but before he can, you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him in, the buckle of his belt catching on the crotch of your jeans. He sucks in a breath and you arch into him.

Your lips ghost over his jawline, and you can't help the whimper that slips from your lips. "Please."

One, two, three seconds of hesitation before his hands are under your ass and hauling you into your shared bedroom. He drops you onto the bed, hands gripping your thighs, your hips, your tits. A gasp escapes you as he grinds into you, his hard cock hitting your clit so deliciously.

"Fuck," he groans, dropping his head against your shoulder as he rolls his hips against you. "Haven't had you in so long princess...haven't even taken your clothes off yet and you feel so damn good."

Your hands trail up his chest, down his back, as you arch yours looking for any sort of contact. Logan's fingers found the button of your jeans, making slow work of undoing them and pulling down the zipper.

"Do you know how badly I've been needing to taste you?" He slowly strips your jeans off of your silky legs, making quick work of your shirt next. "My baby, spread out all pretty like this—fuck—"

He trails a finger down your stomach, dipping the digit beneath your panties. A wanton moan slips out, your voice catching as his middle finger dipped into your folds, collecting the wetness pooled there. "Fuck, Logan—"

He pushes his finger into your mouth, effectively shutting you up as you lick and suck the taste of yourself off of him. His eyes never left yours, his gaze so dark and intense that it had your mind reeling with inappropriate thoughts. For weeks, this was all you had been wanting—him.

Pulling his finger out of your mouth with a pop, Logan slide down your body until his face was directly in front of your cunt. You gasped as the tip of his nose brushed your clit, your hips jolting forward to grind on his face, searching for any sort of contact. He laid his strong arm across your hips, caging you in and holding you down.

"Ah ah, patience doll. You've waited three weeks, what's a little longer?" He inhaled your arousal, hands gripping your thighs and prying your legs apart. You couldn't help but moan, him being so goddamn close to touching you where you need it.

"Besides," he added, pulling your panties to the side and looking up at you. "Good things come to those who wait."

a/n: AHHH MY FIRST FIC ON HERE FINALLY DONE! this is seriously a moment for me bc i haven’t written fanfiction that flowed so easy and genuinely enjoyed in a looooong time. i hope you like it!! lmk if you want a part 2?? lol

[gh0stsp1d3r]

Rafe takes flower nymph!readers virginity… in a flower bed.

Pjo x obx au masterlist

Ever since Rafe met you that one night while training, his visits became more and more frequent, you welcomed the man and watched his training each time, and he watched you grow your flowers.

He was much more kind than some of the other Ares campers. To you he was, at least. He didn’t know why, but he felt the need to be close to you, to be with you all the time. He felt the need to be gentle and slow with you, he didn’t want to go fast, as if you were a delicate little flower yourself.

So, he’s patient as he sits on the rock, while you talk about something while working on your latest addition to the garden.

“I like it over here, really, I do. But sometimes, I question if I’m missing stuff out there. In the real world. Outside of camp.” You rambled on while you watered the plants, your voice so quiet it was hard for Rafe to even hear. But he nodded along to each word anyways, your voice like a soothing lullaby to him.

“Yeah. I know what you mean.” He replied, his voice equally as quiet as to not interrupt you or the animals around you.

You look back at the man with a small smile, standing up, and wiping the dirt from your hands. You sat on the rock next to him, both of you staring at each other before his hand slowly snaked towards your thigh.

He looked at you for any reaction, any signs of hesitance. There wasn’t any. Your smile remains on your face, and you put your hand on top of his, before scooting closer, so that both of your guys legs and shoulders touched. His other hand went to your face, cupping it, he stared into your beautiful eyes.

“Can I… kiss you?” He asked you softly, your nod being all he needed to lean in and capture your lips in his, mouths moving together, his other hand went to your face as well, your hands were wrapped around his neck.

The kiss turned into more, you both found yourselves on the ground of one of your flower beds. You laying on the soft grass and pink flowers while he stared down at you.

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” He asked you.

You nodded, hesitating before telling him. “I do. But, Rafe…”

“Yeah?”

“I- I’m a virgin.” You admitted quietly, casting your eyes downwards and trying to avoid his eyes, scared of what he might say.

He processed the words before a smile made its way onto his face. He was going to be your first.

“That’s okay.” He replied. “I’ll be gentle, promise.” He held his pinky out, you looked back at the man on top of you, and your smile was back on your face when you interlocked your pinky with his.

He leaned down again, giving you a quick kiss before he raked his eyes down your body. He grabbed the end of your dress, on his knees to pull it above your body slowly. He sighed heavily when the fabric was off, he truly did not know how he was gonna last when you were this perfect.

“Jesus.” He murmured out, you furrowing an eyebrow at his reaction, confused as to if he meant it in a good or bad way.

“You’re perfect.” He told you, looking back into your eyes, your cheeks heating up at his compliment. His hands went to the back of your bra, unclasping it with one hand, then looking down.

He took his shirt off, then his pants, until nothing was on his body. You still had your white panties- a little bow on the front that made him chuckle when he looked at them.

“I don’t know if-“ you suddenly spoke when you eyed his length, your mouth agape. “How am I supposed to…”

“I’ll be slow. Like a…” he looked around, seeing a little small snail nearby on one of the plants. “Snail. Like a snail. If you wanna stop-“

“I don’t!” You quickly interrupted, he chuckled at your eagerness. “Please… keep going.” You whispered the last part.

“Yes ma’am.” He said, pulling your panties to the side, lowly groaning at the sight. It took every ounce of strength in his body to not destroy you right now. But he was a gentleman… or something like that.

His fingers gathered your slick, you moaning at the new feeling, throwing your head back against the flowers. “H-holy…”

“We’re just gettin’ started, dove.” He told you, eyes looking up at you as he slid a finger into your warm walls, sucking him in like a vice.

“O-oh!” You cried out.

He groaned again. “Goddamn you’re gonna kill me one day.” He told you quietly, moving his finger in and out slowly.

After he made you cum and stretched you out with his fingers, he lined his cock up with your entrance, looking into your eyes as he slowly pushed in. Your hands were wrapped around him, your nails leaving crescent marks as you dug into the skin of his back.

You gasped, feeling full of him. It was like all your thoughts disappeared as he sunk into you, your mind consumed by the thought of him.

It was that night that Rafe knew he would never let go of you, he would hold on forever if he had to.

[planetxiao]

# REAL LOVE, BABY!

𖤐 sakura haruka ; togame jo ; kaji ren x reader

⟢ fluff, scenarios // random instances with them that feel like real love to you and him.

𖤐 SAKURA HARUKA

All it took was a misstep on uneven ground for you to twist your ankle. Of all the things that could’ve taken you out, it was a spot in the sidewalk that was all broken up. Regardless, it hurt like hell to walk on, and as luck would have it, you have a somewhat willing boyfriend to help you out in any way you need it.

With blushing cheeks, you’re hoisted onto his back easily. Your arms came to rest around his neck, a small smile forming on your lips. Sakura carried on with one destination in mind: Kotoha’s cafe in hopes that she has the means to care for your injury. His gaze remained on the street in front of him, though it would shift back to you every once in a while. However sneaky he thought he was being, you caught every glance sent your way.

“I’m sorry Sakura,” You laughed bashfully, “I hope I’m not too heavy.”

“D-Don’t get the wrong idea! It’s just faster this way!” He sputtered out, averting his eyes to the dull pavement on his right to try to hide his burning cheeks once again, and grumbled quietly, “Can’t even feel you on me anyway.”

You giggled to yourself at his antics, ever the most easily embarrassed. His poor attempt at hiding the colored tinge of his skin gave you instead a view of Sakura that was your favorite. The rosy pink complemented his pale skin in a beautiful way, heterochromatic eyes acting as a perfect accent to a most delicately painted picture. You couldn’t imagine anyone matching up to how pretty Sakura Haruka looked right now.

You laid your head on his shoulder, honeyed gaze lingering on him alone.

“Thank you.” You whispered.

Sakura felt his heart skip a beat at how close your voice sounded in his ear. Your very existence did nothing but permanently leave him red. With a stutter in his step, Sakura scoffed.

“Don’t thank me. It’s my fault you got hurt.”

You huffed. “Sakura, I’m going to flick you.”

“Hah?!”

Sakura furrowed his brow with an incredulous look. Was this a challenge? What did he even do?

“Stop talking like that or I’m going to flick you hard!”

That time, he turned his head to bark something back, but his words caught in his throat as soon as his eyes connected with yours. Your face was mere inches from his. He wasn’t expecting your lips to be so close to his, to see the little details of your irises, to feel the heat radiating from your skin. His hard expression melted into a flustered one with a quiet gasp, eyes widened and mouth fallen agape. He was quick to turn his head away again.

Your lips curled. Your tough boyfriend was just too cute for this world.

𖤐 TOGAME JO

“You always pay, ‘game! C’mon, it’s my turn!”

Togame acted blissfully ‘unaware’ of your claim, not even sparing you a glance as he swiped snacks from your hand. You gawked at the action. He totally brushed you off. The only sign that he heard you was the playful glint yellowed by his colored glasses.

Oho, okay. He wanted to play games with you, huh? Well, you weren’t going to turn down this challenge. Not without a fight, at least.

You’d just have to beat him to pulling out the change. Easier said than done, considering your boyfriend’s brute strength. But you were determined. He paid for you both every time you guys went out — he never let you, anyway — and you just wanted to pay this one time.

With Togame’s hands full of the snacks, you pulled out your wallet and tried to do the math on the total before you both reached the counter. Togame wasn’t oblivious to your antics, nor did you think he was, but he wasn’t going to try to stop you. He really just found it amusing — cute, even.

Togame set your items down on the counter before resting his hands in his pockets. You glanced at him quizzically. He wasn’t going to try to do anything…? Was he actually going to let you pay?

Of course not.

Once the total was given and you were about to hand the change to the cashier, a toned body shoved between you and the counter. Your eyes stared at the lion emblem on the back of the man currently body blocking you from the cashier, taking a second to process what had just happened.

You jumped to the other side of your boyfriend, trying to thrust the change at the cashier as fast as possible, but Togame’s body shifted in a way that pushed you away again. You jumped back to the right side, and again his body shifted to block you.

“Togame Jo, move!” You exclaimed, bouncing back to the left.

Blocked.

“Oi, stop moving,” He laughed, “It’s making it hard to count the coins.”

Oh, you could hit him.

You glanced up at the cashier to see them snickering at your attempts. You huffed. Trying to fight Togame was an uphill battle you were not winning.

Though you continued trying to slip the change through his constant guarding, the cashier ended up taking Togame’s coins instead of yours. He wore an easy smile on his face as he took the bag of goodies from the counter. You stared in both defeat and a bit of annoyance that you couldn’t best your boyfriend in a battle of strength. All because you wanted to pay this time around.

Togame patted your head, emerald eyes crinkling behind his yellow lenses.

“C’mon, the boys are waiting for us.”

You vowed to get him next time.

𖤐 KAJI REN

Static muffled the music playing from the speaker just above your head, making the melody barely decipherable amongst the bustle of the busy cafe. The dishes you both ordered had yet to come due to the sheer volume of customers surrounding you. Apparently, there was a new special being offered that drew in a crowd from all across town. You had no idea. When you asked if Kaji knew, he simply shrugged. You had somehow managed to accidentally pick the most crowded cafe on their busiest day. What luck you have.

The waiting game was no easy feat when you were hungry, but neither of you minded too much. Your head came to rest on Kaji’s shoulder in the meantime, causing the blond haired boy to tense up a bit. Kaji still wasn’t fully comfortable with public affection, but small things like that he was learning to get used to. But only a little bit. 

You stole glances at Kaji – well, you tried to, at least. The first glance up at him, you had been met with his very same gaze, which was averted after a blink or two. It left you both with slightly burning cheeks. The second and third you managed to sneak were successful, and you were able to take in his pretty features: smooth, pale skin; deep blue irises that rippled with something akin to curiosity; soft pink lips which held a lollipop stick between them.

A small smile graced your face. Kaji had no idea just how pretty he was, and every time you told him, red would stain his cheeks and the tips of his ears. You closed your eyes, trying to remember a picture of him like that. The song playing over the speaker seeped into your mind, though, and with strained ears, you barely recognized it. It was a simple little tune that played on the radio from time to time. It wasn’t anything special, but it reminded you of something you’ve been meaning to show Kaji.

You sprung up with a blooming grin. Kaji jumped.

“Can I see your phone?”

Kaji furrowed his brow but pulled the device out of his pocket and gave it to you. You excitedly took it from his hands, typed in the password and found his music app.

“There’s a song that I think you’ll really like. I forgot who it’s by, but it’s right up your alley.”

You pressed play before he could really register what you had said. Before Kaji even moved his hands, his headphones were being pulled over his ears. How you were able to swiftly do all of that in a matter of 45 seconds flustered him.

“Hey, wait–! Stop-”

And then everything froze. At least, that’s how it felt to Kaji. He halted his protests as soon as he saw the alluring curl of your lips. It drew him in like a siren to a sailor, insatiably with a promise to show him things he’s only dreamed of. The twinkle of loving anticipation in your eyes made his heart jump in his chest. Even though Kaji had never heard this song before, he swore that the sight of you before him made the melody sound that much softer.

An unknowing smile softened Kaji’s face, causing yours to grow wider.

“You like it, right? I knew you’d love it!”

Kaji blinked away the trance he was under with wide eyes. Pink tinged his skin as his heart rate began to climb. All he could do to distract from his embarrassment was poke your forehead lightly.

I love you, idiot.

note: i don’t know if you can tell but i love kaji <33 also YEAHHH MOTHE’S COMEBACK LETS GOOO!!! big shoutout to koi ( @dear-koi ) for helping me with these!! you’re the best

[misswynters]

Aemond Targaryen as your husband: headcanon

[a/n: there are some sensual undertones here so if you don’t wanna read that you can skip it. it’s after the seperator

[note | pls don’t just like, reblog & give me feedback. i don’t want to get shadowbanned

similar | jace | aegon | cregan | daeron | gwayne

Aemond is fiercely protective of you. His intense loyalty means he is always by your side, ensuring your safety and well-being. He often places himself between you and any perceived threat, his hand instinctively reaching for his sword.

Aemond isn’t one for grand romantic gestures, but his love for you is evident in the small things. He brushes your hair out of your face, ensures your chambers are always warm, and leaves books he thinks you’d enjoy on your bedside table.

As your husband, Aemond values your opinion on matters of state and politics. He seeks your counsel in private, trusting your judgment and treating you as an equal partner in all decisions.

Aemond admires your intelligence and enjoys engaging in deep conversations with you. Whether it’s discussing the histories of Westeros, strategy, or philosophy, he relishes the intellectual stimulation you provide.

Aemond respects your strength and encourages you to train with him. He enjoys sparring sessions where you both hone your skills, often leading to playful banter and mutual admiration.

You and Aemond have an unspoken bond, sharing secrets that no one else knows. He trusts you implicitly and confides in you about his deepest fears and ambitions.

Despite his stern exterior, Aemond has a soft spot for you. In private, he’s tender and gentle, often holding you close and whispering sweet nothings that contrast sharply with his public demeanor.

Aemond enjoys gifting you rare and precious items, from intricate jewelry to exotic silks. He takes pride in finding unique treasures that reflect your tastes and interests.

One of your favorite pastimes is riding Vhagar together. The thrill of soaring through the skies, feeling the wind in your hair, and the shared experience of dragon riding brings you closer. Aemond often points out landmarks and recounts stories from his childhood as you fly.

Aemond’s loyalty to you is unwavering. He defends your honor fiercely and would go to great lengths to protect you from harm. His love is intense and all-consuming, leaving no room for doubt.

Through your relationship, Aemond learns to open up more emotionally. Your patience and understanding help him grow, allowing him to express his feelings more freely and strengthening your bond.

Aemond is your biggest supporter. Whether you’re pursuing a personal project or navigating court politics, he’s always there to offer encouragement and practical advice.

Aemond is devoted to your future children. He takes an active role in their upbringing, ensuring they are well-educated and trained. He often tells them stories of his own adventures and the legacy of House Targaryen.

Despite the challenges you face, your bond with Aemond is unbreakable. Together, you are a formidable team, facing the world with strength and determination. Your love for each other is a constant source of comfort and inspiration, guiding you through the trials of life in Westeros.

Aemond’s eye always finds you in a room full of people. The way he looks at you, with a mix of desire and admiration, sends shivers down your spine. His gaze alone can make you feel cherished and wanted.

In private, Aemond’s touches are gentle and deliberate. He traces his fingers along your skin, memorizing every curve and line. Whether it’s a light touch on your hand or a caress along your back, he makes you feel treasured.

Aemond’s kisses are a mix of urgency and tenderness. He captures your lips with an intensity that leaves you breathless, his hands cradling your face as if you’re the most precious thing in the world.

Late at night, when the castle is quiet, Aemond whispers sweet and sultry words in your ear. He tells you of his desires, his dreams, and how deeply he loves you. His voice, low and husky, wraps around you like a warm embrace.

Aemond takes his time when you’re having sex. He believes in savoring every moment, exploring your body with a careful and practiced touch. His focus is entirely on your pleasure, ensuring you feel loved and satisfied.

There’s a powerful, unspoken connection between you. A single look from Aemond can communicate a thousand words. In moments of intimacy, you don’t need to speak; your bodies and souls understand each other perfectly.

After a long day, Aemond loves to hold you close. He wraps his arms around you, his body shielding yours. The warmth of his embrace and the steady beat of his heart are the ultimate comfort, making you feel safe and adored. Giving you the love that his mother didn’t give him.

Aemond is particularly affectionate in the mornings. He wakes you with soft kisses on your neck and shoulders, his hands gently exploring your body as he whispers good morning. These moments set a loving tone for the day ahead.

Aemond enjoys sharing baths with you. The intimacy of washing each other, feeling the warm water and his hands on your skin, creates a deep bond. He loves to see you relaxed and content, and he takes his time, making sure every touch is soothing and sensual.

Despite his duties, Aemond finds time for secret sex. Whether it’s a secluded garden or a hidden room in the castle, he ensures you have moments of privacy to express your love and passion freely.

banner by: @cafekitsune

[save-the-villainous-cat]

With all the strength they had left, the hero crawled into the villain’s apartment through the window. After surviving the superhero, this should have been easy but it turned out to be exhausting.

The hero had landed in the bathroom and without wasting another second, they pulled themselves up and searched through the cabinets. Unfortunately, their bloody hands left enough evidence of them breaking in already. They supposed they’d have to face the villain sooner or later, even if that meant the villain was going to throw them out again.

For now, they found something close enough to practical — a razor — and opened the first aid kit the villain usually stored under the cabinet. Before they could take out the blades, the villain opened the door.

“You’re not as quiet as you think.” The hero looked at them and smiled softly. Teeth stained with blood, heavy limbs.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” they said. With no hesitation, the villain helped them up and took the razorblades out of their hands.

“What happened to that pretty face?” they asked. With one hand on the hero’s hip, they reached for a clean towel and turned on the sink. They let the soft fabric drench in warm water and gently cleaned up the hero’s face.

It all happened so fast. The villain didn’t seem to mind that the hero was here in the middle of the night.

And they were close. So close.

Whereas the villain was focused on the hero’s face and getting rid of all that blood, the hero stared into their eyes. Maybe it was this cruel change: brutal violence coming from someone they had adored to gentle tenderness from someone they had loathed.

The villain looked down at them. Their thumb traced the hero’s jawline and the hero looked away, almost ashamed.

“You look like shit,” the villain whispered. “And you woke me up.”

“I’m sorry,” the hero said. They looked at the villain’s clothes — their underwear and a shirt. The hero blushed a little. They took the villain’s hand and reached for the razorblades. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

The hero let go of them with a gaze that lingered a little too long.

“They chipped me,” the hero explained. They cleaned the blade with some rubbing alcohol and took in a deep breath. “Chipped me like a fucking dog.”

They cut into their own forearm, watching as the blood ran down their skin. It burnt even more than the open wounds on the hero’s back. They supposed they just had gotten used to that sort of pain, even if that was impossible.

With the blade, they dug through skin and muscle, clenching their teeth until they found the little tracker. They cursed when they pushed their fingers into the wound to fish it out.

Once they had the bloody device in their hand, they let it fall to the ground and crushed it under their boot.

“I knew trackers are useless at your place. You’ve slipped through my fingers quite a few times that way.”

The villain didn’t say anything. They just stared at the hero who cleaned their arm.

It wasn’t exactly easy to crawl to their nemesis and beg for shelter. The hero was too proud to do that anyway and they had planned to leave after cutting out the microchip.

“I’m sorry to have bothered you,” the hero said.

“You didn’t bother me.” The villain took a step forward and took the hero’s hands. “Are you alright?”

The hero frowned.

“Of course I am. I’m fine. I’m doing great.”

“You’re sure about that?” The villain let their fingers intertwine and suddenly, the hero felt very tired very quickly. “You’ve been so busy these last few days. I barely got to see you. They sent over some other lame heroes.”

The hero chuckled tiredly.

“I mean, why would they think I am satisfied with all the other rabble?” One of their hands glided down the hero’s forearm where they put pressure on the wound. “You always wanted to be a hero. When did that change?”

“I don’t know,” the hero said but the desperation and the hopelessness were already settling in. It didn’t even buy them time to lie to the villain. One way or another they found out anyway and most of the time, they asked the hero questions they already had the answers to.

The hero couldn’t really take it anymore. The pain was too much, their mind was breaking more and more.

“Oh, so many tears on such a pretty face,” the villain said. They pulled the hero closer and wiped their tears away with the back of their hand. “Don’t you know it’s not your fault?”

“They turned against me,” the hero said. Their voice trembled. “All of them. They chipped me, they put a bounty on my head. They’re trying to kill me because I don’t agree with…with all this shit.”

The villain cupped their face. “With what?”

“With all this stupid collateral damage and these dumb advertisements. Most of the time I feel like a mascot, I’m barely saving any people.”

“Oh, darling.” The villain tilted their head. Their presence was comforting in a way the hero hadn’t had experienced before. Whatever they’d done to each other in the past, the hero didn’t care. They were familiar, they were warm. The hero wasn’t going to let anyone take this moment away from them. “And who exactly beat you up like this? Your boss, I assume?”

“…yeah.” They could play pretend. They could pretend the villain was closer, that they were more than acquaintances. Even if it wasn’t real, even if the villain was using them, the hero needed some affection right now. They’d gladly give the heartbreak to their future self.

“My poor hero,” the villain said softly. “Would you let me stitch you up?”

The hero nodded.

“I’ll protect you,” the villain promised. They pulled them close to hug the hero. The hero didn’t understand why they were so gentle, so kind. Most of the time, they insulted each other like children. But the hero needed this. They really did. “They will pay for this.”

[rexsjaigeyes]

A trio's tryst

Vax'ildan x female reader x Percy | NSFW, 18+

Words: 4k

Content: threesome, pegging, oral sex, slight voyeurism, overstimulation, cum swallowing (Percy does it), unprotected penetrative sex, creampie, finger-fucking, multiple orgasms

A/N: just dropping this here while i'm still on hiatus 🙈 i'm not done with S2 yet, so this is more in-character for S1 Vax and Percy. also this is crossposted to AO3 if that tickles your fancy. enjoy 😌

You’re not sure how it came to this. In your foggy recollection, you believe it was a stupid little bet that started it all. But you’re not going to complain about the silver practically stolen from you due to your quick loss. Not when defeat means the slick slide of your strap-on inside Vax, and the heavy weight of Percy’s leer as he sits not too far away.

The inn Vox Machina chose for the night is not much better than the usual run-down, shithole joints the party has previously stayed at. With paper-thin walls and the reek of booze permeating nearly every hallway and room, it’s not the sexiest spot for a tryst like the one you’re having now. But even Percy doesn’t seem to mind the uncomfortable setting tonight. And Vax certainly has no complaints.

The half-elf’s tangled brown locks frame his head like a halo on the bed—the perfect complement to the way he holds your gaze, as if he’s unworthy of being touched by a deity like you. His face scrunches in pleasure, trying his hardest not to come undone already. Another steady thrust, and those breathy gasps of his that you adore so much start to grow in volume.

A smug chuckle snaps your attention to the stool on your left. The dim light of the room only illuminates the bed and one other wall. You only catch the glint of Percy’s glasses for a split second before his entire form disappears back into the shadows.

“Any louder, and the whole damn inn will know what we’re up to,” he says. Even with his face hidden from you, it’s clear Percy’s teasing words are only directed at you. He doesn’t bother to address Vax right now because he isn’t the one calling the shots tonight. “I suggest you keep him quiet, dear.” 

Faintly, Vax grumbles a curse beneath his breath, as if the gunslinger’s presence annoys him. But his frustration is only a charade. You all know how Vax occasionally enjoys the special brand of humiliation only Percy can dole out in his signature methodical fashion.

Percy didn’t mention how you should go about keeping Vax silent, but your mind already conjures various ways to do it. With a sly grin, you press one hand to Vax’s cheek, your thumb briefly brushing across his bottom lip.

“Open your mouth,” you whisper. He wastes no time in complying, his pupils somehow growing even larger as two of your fingers slide inside his mouth. “Now suck,” you demand.

Satisfaction takes root deep in your belly while Vax groans around your wet digits. With his immodest noises muffled now, your ears become more attuned to the sharp slap of skin on skin and the obscene slippery sound of Vax’s tight hole taking you deeper.

Percy’s clothes rustle nearby as he readjusts on the stool. You almost miss the soft grunt accompanied by a gruff “fuck” muttered from your left, but your senses feel hyper-aware now. Tingles run along your body with each measured thrust you make and the way Vax’s lean muscles begin to tense beneath you.

You’re getting tired—still slightly unaccustomed to the strength and stamina it takes to thrust a fake cock for this long. You slip your fingers from Vax’s mouth to make a determined path down his straining body. Sweeping past the hard planes of his chest, and then his stomach and hips, your fingers land along the base of his cock. Despite Percy’s previous instruction, he seems to revel in the choked cry that escapes Vax’s lips as you wrap your hand around his length.

“De Rolo,” Vax says through clenched teeth, “quit your giggling in the dark and come here.”

His words make both of you laugh, but you’re in silent agreement with Vax. If Percy doesn’t get his ass over to the bed and touch one of you soon, you’ll spend the rest of the night giving him the cold shoulder.

“As you wish, little bird,” Percy replies with a smirk while emerging from the darkness.

His slender frame towers over you from beside the bed, and he presses one hand to your hip, giving you the extra leverage you need to continue thrusting. Your stomach tightens when he wraps the other hand around Vax’s cock, mirroring the way you’re stroking it while his fingers slightly overlap yours in an intimate caress.

Vax rolls his eyes, although it’s hard to tell if it’s in annoyance or maybe from the pleasure coursing through him. “You know I hate when you call me that,” he argues with a less-than-convincing whine.

“Is that right?” Percy’s thumb lightly squeezes the head of Vax’s cock. Your breath hitches at the sight of his finger slowly swiping the precum beading from the tip. “It doesn't look like you hate it that much.”

Vax seems unable to respond, his fingers fisting the bedsheets and sweat starting to glisten across his chest. He writhes beneath you but still tries to meet your thrusts while bucking his hips up into the pair of hands on his length. Seeing him so vulnerable and desperate makes liquid heat pool between your thighs, and you briefly wonder if you could come from the sight of him alone.

Percy steals your attention, releasing your hip to grip the back of your neck and pull you into a bruising kiss. Your breath escapes your lungs in a whoosh, but you’re grateful for the rougher way he handles you. It’s a stark contrast to the way Vax usually worships you. But you know that Percy will only be as rough as you want him to be—and his calculating nature means he always knows exactly where you’ve drawn the line. 

He smiles against your lips when you pull away a little and gasp, trying to chase the breath he stole from your lungs. Between your thrusting and Percy’s wild affection, you’re sure you’ll suffocate before the night is over.

Percy hums in mocking contemplation as he looks back down at Vax. “He’s right on the edge,” he says, far too satisfied with each pathetically loud whine Vax makes as he tries to hold back his orgasm. “Let’s make him come, together.”

You nod, biting down on your lip as you thrust as deep as you can. It takes a decent amount of concentration to find the right combined rhythm of thrusting and stroking Vax’s cock at the same time. But you follow Percy’s lead, allowing him to guide your hand up and down Vax's shaft while you focus on thrusting a bit harder.

In your distracted state, you jolt when you feel Percy’s other hand slide up your body. You’re frankly jealous of how collected he seems right now, whereas you and Vax look like wild animals. But you also feel a fresh wave of arousal at how effortlessly he can affect both of you. Percy’s hand moves to gently massage your breasts. He takes his time to tease each nipple while Vax writhes with the force of his oncoming orgasm.

Without so much as a warning, Vax shudders and moans before spilling onto both pairs of knuckles and his own taut stomach. You mutter a curse under your breath at the sight of his pulsing cock, and you feel hypnotized as you spread a bit of his cum around his cock.

“Shit, Vax,” you say in slight disbelief, your voice breathy from how turned on you are. “You made quite the mess this time.”

A cute blush graces his cheeks in response, enticing a kiss from you before you carefully slide out of him. Rolling over on the bed, you undo the buckles of your strap-on and lazily throw it to the other end of the mattress. You expect the three of you to take a quick breather now, but a soft whimper draws your attention back to the pair of men. Percy hasn’t stopped touching Vax’s aching cock. He continues to stroke him at an even pace, causing Vax to tremble from the sensitivity.

“A-ah, please,” Vax cries out, his fingers gripping Percy’s wrist.

But you know that he secretly loves the overstimulation. That’s why he’s not using his strength to yank Percy’s hand away or scramble out of his reach. Instead, his comically pouty look gets directed at you, and Vax tries again to beg for something he hasn’t decided yet—either for mercy or for more.

“Use your words,” Percy snaps. His low growl sends shivers down your spine, even though the command is not for you. “What do you want, Vax’ildan?”

Vax gulps, closing his eyes and taking a second to collect himself before returning his needy gaze to you. There’s no mistaking who he’s speaking to when he whimpers, “I need more. Please let me taste you, darling.”

Anticipation lights a fire in your chest, and you’re itching to give Vax exactly what he wants. But you glance at Percy first, waiting to see if he’ll agree.

Percy grins at you, and you can see a devilish plan beginning to take shape in his mind. “You heard the man,” he says before giving you a nod of permission.

Eagerly, you crawl to the top of the bed and press a gentle kiss to Vax’s awaiting lips. He groans into your mouth, obviously desperate for the moment when your thighs settle along either side of his head. But as you begin to brace your hands against the headboard, Percy’s tut of disapproval cuts in.

“No, no,” he chides from behind you. “Turn around and face me instead.”

You turn above Vax’s increasingly impatient mouth, being careful not to accidentally kneel on his long hair, and wait to lock eyes with Percy before taking a proper seat. Vax’s slender fingers grip your hips near-painfully, but you feel satisfied knowing he’s looking forward to this as much as you are. Finally, Percy nods in approval, and it takes an insane amount of willpower to descend gently.

It’s ungodly how good Vax is at this. A shudder already racks through you as his tongue glides expertly along your clit. It’s when he gasps against your pussy that you realize why Percy wanted you in this position. Your eyes fly open—you barely even noticed how tight you had shut them seconds ago—and your stomach flips at the sight of Percy’s tongue tracing a leisurely path down Vax’s cock before fully taking him into his mouth.

Percy keeps eye contact with you while reducing Vax to a moaning mess against your cunt. He takes his time teasing and working Vax back up to a second orgasm. Vax, on the other hand, wastes no time devouring you. Even though he seems far too eager to make you unravel, his tongue still moves in measured strokes across your pussy. He knows exactly what pace and amount of pressure you prefer against your throbbing clit. And he relishes in the way your body reacts so easily for him.

“Oh fuck,” you whine, rocking your hips against his mouth with wild abandon. “Just like that…don’t stop, Vax.”

Your pleasure only seems to fuel the desperate whimpers and groans muffled against your cunt. If you hadn’t been in this same position with Vax before, you would have thought he’s only acting this way because of Percy’s skilled tongue. But you know how much Vax savors the taste and feel of you. More than that, he especially loves when you take control and grind down on his face however you like. He enjoys being used by you.

Percy slides his mouth off Vax’s length, using his hand to replace the sensation while he addresses you. “He’s going to come soon,” he says with a cocky grin, “and you’re close too. You better beat him to it.” His tongue and lips return to the tip of Vax’s flushed cock, resuming the unrelenting pace he set before.

Vax is immediately on the same page as Percy. He sets a laser-focus to your clit, sucking it into his mouth while holding your body down firm against him. He's determined to make you come first, and that thought alone causes you to writhe as the pleasure crests within you. Through heavy-lidded eyes, you watch Percy groan around Vax's cock, and it causes a chain reaction of moans and vibrations against each other's skin.

Your nails dig into Vax's chest, and your body shakes as your orgasm finally overtakes you like a tidal wave. It takes barely a second before Vax joins you, overwhelmed with the feeling of your thighs clenching around his head coupled with Percy practically deep-throating him. Vax grips you even tighter, and you almost feel bad that he's unable to see the delicious act of Percy swallowing every drop of cum that Vax gives him. He even makes a show of swiping any stray pearl beads and sucking it off his fingers.

You moan softly, going slightly limp against Vax before gathering your remaining strength to gently roll off him. Lying beside his quivering body, you run your fingers along his chest and snort in amusement when Percy does a few more teasing strokes of Vax's oversensitive cock.

“Oh, gods,” Vax whines. “Take it easy, Percival. I can’t take much more of your cruelty.”

“Alright,” Percy concedes, his voice sounding a little amused. “I'll have mercy on you.” He releases Vax and turns his attention to you, slowly crawling up the bed while pressing kisses all over your skin. He hums in delight before saying, “You both did so well.”

Percy continues caressing your thighs, moving higher to kiss your hips and then the soft swell of your belly. He remains below your chest, leaving ample room for Vax to kiss your neck while skimming feather-light touches across your breasts. They take turns whispering filthy praises to you, saying how beautiful you looked as you rode Vax's face.

They know exactly what they're doing with their honeyed words and reverent touches. Fortunately for them, it's working like a charm. Your body grows hotter under their affection, and soon you ache for so much more.

“Percy, please,” you murmur while lightly tugging on his hair. “Just fuck me already.” The two men chuckle, clearly enjoying how desperate you've become now.

“I guess we've kept her waiting long enough,” Vax tells Percy with a smile.

Percy tilts his head with a grin but stops his teasing kisses that skirt around where you need him most. Finally, he readjusts to kneel back on his heels before palming himself through his pants. You take the opportunity to drag your eyes down his body, appreciating the way he leisurely works to unzip his pants and then pull his throbbing cock out from beneath his boxers.

With how torturously slow he exposed himself, it surprises you how quickly he tugs you closer, gesturing for you to kneel in front of him. He guides your body, pressing your back to his chest so you’re still facing Vax at the head of the bed. The rough texture of his clothes against your naked skin feels a little odd, but you shiver at the thought of Percy still fully dressed and desperate to be inside you.

Your legs are slightly wobbly, still feeling a bit sore in the knees from fucking Vax, but Percy keeps your thighs pushed apart in the perfect position for him to slowly slide into you. The stretch feels amazing, and the two of you sigh in unison once he bottoms out.

You can’t tell if it’s your arousal or your tired body that’s causing you to shake a bit, but Vax immediately notices the way you tremble. He’s still recovering from his previous orgasms, but that doesn’t stop him from sitting up and leaning closer to you, an adorably dazed but concerned look on his face.

“I’ve got you, darling,” Vax whispers. “Just hold onto me.” He pulls your hands to rest on his shoulders, allowing you to use him as leverage while Percy begins to fuck you at an easy pace.

While you get lost in the feeling of Percy’s cock, Vax’s lips trace the curve of your breast before moving to your collarbone and neck. He keeps lavishing your body with kisses, treating you like glass while Percy’s hands grip your hips roughly. When you start rocking your hips back in between thrusts, Percy takes the cue to speed up a bit, pushing himself even deeper as you gasp.

Vax’s fingers tickle your sides, briefly skirting past Percy’s knuckles with a knowing grin before sliding down to your swollen clit. He takes his time to tease you, playing with your clit at a languid pace while Percy sets a steady rhythm that makes your moans grow louder. You’re not sure how much longer you’ll last with these two men determined to make you come as fast and hard as humanly possible. They both know exactly what buttons to press to get the reactions they want from you.

Vax’s teeth latch onto a sensitive spot on your neck, and that somehow pushes you over the edge. You crumple in his arms, crying out from how fierce your second orgasm is. Neither of the men are surprised you came so fast. It was inevitable with the way Vax circled your clit with the same precision as before. What’s really surprising is the way Percy moans your name, his voice strained while he grasps your hips harder.

Vax takes the opportunity to get some payback for Percy’s teasing. “Going to come so soon, Percival?” he taunts.

“Oh, fuck off,” Percy replies through gritted teeth. “You would too if you could feel her right now…”

You can feel your muscles still pulsing around him, and you can’t help but focus your concentration on clamping down just a bit more. You like to watch him suffer just a little bit—and so does Vax, of course.

Percy curses in response before frantically asking, “Where do you want me to–”

“Inside,” you respond quickly. You wrap one of your hands behind you to hold onto his hip, urging him to stay where he is. 

Percy doesn’t hold back any longer. He moans your name while spilling inside you. You gasp into Vax’s mouth as he pulls you into a kiss, allowing you and Percy some time to come down from the intensity of your orgasms. All three of you seem to sigh in post-coital bliss, and Vax helps you off of Percy’s cock before his cum starts dripping too far down your thighs.

They both help you lie down on the bed before Vax collapses beside you. But Percy looks like he’s not nearly done playing his little games. To be fair, you also still feel a little revved up, even after two orgasms. Regardless, that little glint in Percy’s eyes as he crawls back up the bed makes you shiver.

“Why do you look like you’re about to kidnap me, de Rolo?” you joke.

He cracks a smile but doesn’t stop advancing toward you until his face hovers over yours. He presses a chaste kiss to your lips and says, “Just give us one more, dear.” It’s less of a command and more of a question. But he knows you’re not going to turn down another orgasm. Although you feel a bit fatigued, you’re greedy for one last round, so you nod your head.

Vax groans dramatically beside you. “Gods, really? The two of you are insatiable,” he teases, earning a sharp nudge of your elbow in his side.

“Don’t act like you aren’t either,” you argue.

“Touché.”

Your responding laugh gets cut off with a gasp while Percy coats his fingers in his remaining cum spilling past your puffy lips. He dips a soaked finger inside your cunt, testing your reactions before giving you a second one when you’re ready. He watches your face closely, mouth twitching in a smirk as his fingers curl at just the right spot.

Your back arches off the bed, and Vax slides a bit closer to gently kiss your body wherever he can reach. Without exchanging any more words with the other man, Vax already knows what to do to enhance the desire spreading throughout your body. He leans his head down to your breasts and sucks a nipple into his mouth. In tandem, one of his hands glides down your body. His fingers tease your clit, occasionally spreading out a bit to allow Percy to flick the needy bud with his tongue.

The two of them work wordlessly with one common goal. They barely need to communicate to reduce your limbs to jelly, and you secretly love how experienced they are with your body language to be able to pull this off so expertly. The only sounds between the two of them are Percy’s whispered praises and Vax’s soft moans muffled by the sloppy kisses he presses all over your tits. When Vax’s eyes meet yours again, you realize your nails are digging into his bicep. But he doesn’t let up, and neither does Percy.

Your mouth falls open in a silent cry before you stutter, “I– I’m so close, please…”

Vax is the one to grant you permission this time. His lips curve into a smile against your skin. “Hm, then come for us, darling.”

The two of them continue their song and dance, watching every twitch and jolt of your body with bated breath. Vax’s eyelids flutter with desire, staring at you like you’re the only thing that matters in the world. And when you turn your head to Percy, you swear you see a hint of a sadistic grin before he bites down on your inner thigh, determined to leave marks as a reminder of tonight.

There’s no stopping your pleasure as it barrels into you with full force. Your chest heaves while you desperately try to catch your breath—although Percy is doing his damndest to prolong your orgasm just like he did with Vax. His fingers continue curling slowly a few more times, determined to wring every last drop of desire from your exhausted body.

Vax murmurs sweet nothings in your ear, and you feel like you’re on cloud nine with how the two of them take such care with bringing you down from your high. After Percy finally relents and pulls his fingers from your pussy, he flops down on the other side of your body, opposite from Vax.

Vax’s aftercare is always the best, but with Percy added in the mix, it’s like being pampered royalty. They take turns pressing tender kisses to your heated skin and brushing back the sweat-slicked strands of hair from your face. Percy dutifully pulls out a handkerchief to carefully wipe away the mess along yours and Vax’s lower halves, promising to draw a bath when you’re all ready for it. And Vax lets you play with his hair while he whispers how good you made him feel earlier. Percy takes a moment to check in with Vax too, making sure he didn’t do anything that made either of you uncomfortable.

After a beat of silence, Percy hums in quiet contemplation. “To think Scanlan was technically the reason for tonight…”

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” you interrupt with a groan. “That little shit fleeced me!” You turn your look of playful annoyance to Vax. “We would have won that damn bet if you didn’t beg me to fuck you.”

“It’s not my fault,” Vax says defensively. Although there’s a smug look on his face that says he isn't sorry at all. “Three days without your touch is a long fucking time.”

“Vax,” you say through gritted teeth, “you barely lasted a few hours, let alone one day.”

He chuckles with a shrug. “At least I lasted longer than the nobleman just did.”

His jab at Percy earns him a light backhanded slap on the chest from the nobleman himself, and you can’t help but giggle at the way they try to play-fight around your body. Regardless of how much these two banter, you know they equally enjoy each other’s presence. And no matter how much hard-earned coin was lost in that annoying bet, you’ll remember to thank Scanlan for his antics this time.

~~~~~~~

thanks for reading! <3 if you enjoyed it, please reblog!

[moon7jay]

WANT (l.hs)

Warnings : angst, cum eating, smut, basically filth.

"I think he doesn't find me sexually attractive"

There.

U said it.

Your worst fear. Out loud.

your best friend looked at u like u had grown two heads

"Tf does that even mean? Isn't he dating u? "

She said it like even the thought of what u said was incredulous, but how would she know the things you were seeing and observing with your very own eyes.

Your lower lip trembled just thinking about all the times he had pushed u away. As if u were a turn off. Maybe u were.

"I mean yeah, but it's been 6 months and he hasn't.. " your voice trailed off as u felt the onslaught of tears approaching. Damn it. Damn that man for making u feel like this about yourself.

"Y/n no. He hasn't touched u?? like at all?? "

He did touch u, he held your hand when u were outside, intertwined your fingers when at home, kissed your forehead, pecked your cheek and lips. And he would pull away just as fast whenever u tried to kiss him deeper, or press urself closer. It was like u made him uncomfortable. Maybe u did.

You shook your head and broke down in tears, it was too much for ur fragile heart.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, your body clad tightly in a wine red mini dress, the chest cut lower to display your ample cleavage. You looked sexy. Or so u thought.

The entire night went just like it always did. heeseung called u beautiful, he kissed u and held u close, told u everything about his day and asked u about yours. You were laughing with him but u weren't quiet there. Cuz u would catch several men ogling at u throughout the night but never heeseung . It was like. U weren't visible to him.

By the time he dropped u off at your apartment, ur mood was all the way down. Getting inside and taking ur dress off haphazardly, maybe u heard some fabric ripping but who cared. Silent tears falling down ur face as u sat in front of your vanity and looked at yourself blankly. Were u that unattractive? Did u lack sex appeal? Is that it? Because u couldn't turn ur boyfriend on no matter how hard u tried.

He barely ever seemed affected by u or ur display of your body. Ur insecurities ate away at u the entire night and u cried ur way to sleep.

"U haven't been answering my calls"

His voice echoed in the kitchen, u tried ur best to not turn around and run into his arms. After all he was still your heeseung , u loved him. And now more than ever u needed him. But he just seemed so far away.

The stirring of spoon in the coffee u were making got faster, ur anxiety getting the best of u. U hadn't been purposefully avoiding him. It's just that u didn't trust yourself to not break down like a loser in front of him anymore.

"I'm talking to u y/n"

"I'm sorry" u whispered, ur voice barely audible, the stirring of coffee got even faster, warm droplets spilling out of the cup now.

"Baby what r u sorry for? " His voice was still far away so u assumed he was still standing at the entrance of the kitchen. This gave u a little bit of strength as u cleared ur throat and dumped ur mess of a coffee into the sink

"For forcing u to be in this relationship" U replied, opening the upper cabinet to take out the coffee beans with ur shaking hands.

Pulling out another cup to start stirring again. It was the only thing keeping u calm right now.

"Y/n look at me" His voice was commanding and ur stirring stopped.

"Please"

U took a deep breath and turned around. It was about time u faced ur demons, how long were u going to run away from ur self anyway?

He was a few feet away from u, probably hesitating to come closer because of your behavior. But he never came closer anyway.

His face looked helpless and worried, like he couldn't quite understand what was going on

"What are u even talking about? " He asked carefully

U shrugged

"U started dating me out of pity hee, u did not like me from the get go and u still don't, I get that, and I'm ready to let u go"

His mouth gaped open, floundering for words

"What the fuck y/n?? Where the fuck is all this coming from? Yes I didn't like u from the get go, but that's because I didn't fucking know u! U confessed to me and I AGREED to go out with u. That's all there is to it." He sounded angry, mad even. But u couldn't bring ur self to believe his words.

"U didn't have the heart to reject me"

"I didn't WANT to reject u"

U sniffled. No this wasn't how it was supposed to go. He was supposed to tell u that yes u were right and he didn't want to be with u. So why was he being like this.

U bit ur lower lip to stop it from trembling, looking down at ur feet, unable to look at his love filled eyes anymore

"Y/n please talk to me baby"

His pleading voice made ur heart squeeze, u were hurting him.

"So why don't u want me? " U whispered quietly, too scared of his answer

"What? " His eyes met yours in confusion and worry. He seemed distressed, not knowing what changed so much in a week's span.

"Am I not sexually appealing? like, do u not find me attractive that way?... or any way.. "

tears started to fall once u said it out loud. Oh god u wanted to disappear, away from the way his eyes searched ur face.

He was going to be disgusted with u and then leave. Oh u were a fool, u hated ur self.

What u weren't expecting was for him to walk towards u, u watched him walk closer and closer until u could feel his breath on ur face.

Your watering eyes met his

"Is that what all this is about?" he asked, his voice an octave lower, dark eyes gazing at u in a way u had never seen before.

U looked down embarrassed, more tears falling freely now

"of course it is, it's been 6 months, u don't touch me, u don't kiss me, u don't even seem to care all that much when - u were cut off with a bruising kiss, his large hands cupping your face as his lips moved furiously against yours. Your eyes widened and u unknowingly moved ur hands on his chest, fisting his shirt. The way he was kissing u could only be described one way.

Hungry.

He was hungry.

He bit your lower lip and u screamed into his mouth, eyes closing in pain, focusing on the way he slithered his tongue into your mouth taking advantage of your scream, the feel of his tongue on yours made ur knees weak.

as if sensing ur light headedness he moved one hand to grab onto your waist. U gasped, the bare skin of your waist burning from his touch. U couldn't comprehend what was happening and if the person kissing u was your heeseung .

The kiss was messy, your lips connected with a string of saliva when he pulled away

U were panting, his hot and heavy breaths fell on your face. His eyes stared down at u with desire, the intensity so strong ur fists on his chest tightened.

You watched in awe as he loosened your hold on his shirt's fabric and took ur hand in his own, moving it downwards. Ur breath left ur lungs when u felt his hardness, he squeezed his length with your palm, a groan escaping his parted lips. U watched him frozen with wide eyes.

"This is u, all u" he panted on your face as he continued to rub himself over his pants using your soft hand. Your pussy tingled in arousal at seeing your boyfriend like this for the first time. Even from feeling him above his pants u could tell he was big.

"And everytime u kiss me, everytime u touch me, this is exactly how I go back home. Hard and throbbing, do u feel me baby? "

U nodded dumbly, not quiet deciphering his words. U turned him on?

"Yeah. Feel me more, press harder, I'm tired of jerking off with my own hand imagining it is yours"

His words make u gasp, your hold instinctively tightening on his dick. He curses kissing u on ur bleeding lip again, suckling the plump flesh into his mouth.

"U.. U j-jerked off to me? " U asked in a whisper, not wanting to jinx it. So in disbelief u didn't notice how fast u were rubbing his boner now. He moaned into ur mouth, taking ur hand and pulling it away from his dick only to unzip himself and slip it inside of his jeans.

You moaned when ur hand met his hard and throbbing cock, holding it and running your fingers on it softly. So big and thick. How was he gonna fit in u.

"Every night, jerked off to u so so hard. Came for u so much baby" He groaned into ur mouth at your soft hand finally holding him.

His words had u pressing ur thighs together and squirming against his body where he had u trapped against the kitchen counter. You started jerking him off in the earnest

"Yeah just like that, where'd u learn how to do it so good baby" He asked, his head thrown back, your hand gathering the precum at his cockhead and spreading it all over his cock, watching how ur hand looked working him inside his jeans. His hold on your waist tightened, moving up to grope ur chest making a pornographic moan rip through ur chest

"Practiced with my dildo"

u barely heard him curse before hot white liquid was flowing over your hand, a dark spot forming on his jeans. He groaned and captured ur lips in his own again. U couldn't believe u had made him cum. U had just made ur boyfriend cum by barely doing anything.

You pulled out ur hand from his jeans and watched in awe how his white seed looked on your hand. As if in trance u found ur self tasting it, your tongue licking your fingers and slurping all of his thick cum from ur hand.

When u met his eyes he was looking at u like a hungry animal, his jaw ticking as he traced ur movements with his eyes.

He pressed u closer to the kitchen counter so that there was no space left in between your bodies. His hands groping your ass harshly making u whine, ur hands coming up to wrap around his neck.

"U fuck urself? Ride ur dildo? " He asked, his voice dark and heavy with lust.

U nodded, squirming against him from his perverted touch, he was squeezing ur body like those men did on buses. Like it was an object of pleasure.

"Yeah? What do u think of? "

"You" u moaned as he twisted ur nipple painfully through ur crop top.

He groaned, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against u.

"Tried so hard to hold myself back, I knew u were a virgin so wanted to take it slow with u, wanted to show u i want u for more than just ur body. But all this time- he squeezed the flesh at your waist making u moan his name-all this time u have been dreaming of getting used"

He picked up your leg, wrapping it around his waist, his dick settling between ur legs, grinding against ur pussy through ur soft cotten shorts.

"Oh I'm gonna use u alright, gonna use ur fucking pussy to get myself off, that'll make u happy won't it? " He asked rutting against ur cunt, rubbing your genitals against each other,both of you panting together.

U nodded. This was all u ever dreamed of.

He moaned and kept rutting against u, u rutted back, pushing ur hips against his, gasps and pants filling the kitchen space. He dug his teeth into the soft flesh of your neck

"Can't believe I could have been beating this fucking pussy red all this time"

His words made u drip. U had never been so fucking turned on.

"heeseung put it in please, please I'm ready, please please" Tears sprang to ur eyes as his grinding motion gave u ecstasy, u were so close to cumming just like this. "Waited so long please" U begged, his furrowed brows and sharp eyes watched ur face, still grinding against u, but u both wanted more friction. He started pulling away and hurriedly pulled his pants down,starting to unbutton his shirt. U didn't waste more time and took off ur shorts and panties along with ur top, throwing them across the kitchen. You were feeling too impatient, rubbing your naked body against his, the fire burning inside u at its peak.

He pressed u against the counter again. Pressing his body to yours, but not penetrating u, just rubbing his hard dick against ur naked wet snatch, watching how they created a mess together. Your movements matched his, grinding back, rubbing and rubbing, the wet and messy sight between your rubbing genitals was so lewd u could feel ur self getting close.

"wanna make ur first time special, won't impale u on my dick right now, but let's fuck like this yeah? Wanna have sex just like this right now" He panted and groaned. U nodded, digging your nails into his back, rubbing ur pebbled nips against his bare chest.

The pleasure was too good, u had never felt something like this before.

His cockhead was hitting ur clit just right, the squelching sounds increasing as u both moaned and groaned in pleasure. He loved it. Loved how u both were rubbing ur sweaty bodies against each other like animals in heat.

His tongue entangled again with yours, fingers digging in your hips as he picked u up and made u sit on the counter, positioning u in a way that had u leaning back on your elbows, his desperate hands pulling ur hips off the counter and holding them like a sex toy. Grinding and rubbing his cock against ur velvet folds.

"Fuck yeah, baby we gotta fuck like this again"

He groaned and his thrusts started becoming rough. U chanted his name like a mantra. He was basically fucking u without actually being inside but u couldn't fathom anything feeling more good than this. Your elbows got tired and u let yourself lie back and just get used

"Gonna fuck ur pussy whenever I want"

"Bet it's tight as fuck baby, gonna have so much fun tearing u up"

"Oh yeah fuck back on me"

"Grind baby come on, what a whore"

His filthy words pushed u over the edge, coming over his cock.

He kept rubbing his cock into your cumming pussy, cursing and gritting his teeth as the heat in his loin became unbearable. Cumming all over your stomach and pussy, grunting in pleasure "fuck fuck fuck"

He rubbed his fingers on your folds, watching how raw and abused your cunt looked.

U didn't know what u had opened the door to. heeseung wanted to keep u away from his sexual urges as long as he could. He was rough, he was demanding. But most of all he was sex crazed. He didn't want u to see that side of him so soon into the relationship. And it was hard for him, feeling ur soft body pressing against his arm everyday but he always clenched his jaw and pushed u away. Rubbing his dick raw again and again just remembering how heavenly u felt.

But now that u had summoned his demons out, he was gonna play. He was gonna fuck u again and again until u r trying to run away from him. Until the pleasure turns into pain. He was going to show u exactly why he kept u away from him for so long.

His want was not casual, it was obsessive, it was destructive. And u were going to find out the hard way (No pun intended)

[swarvey]

how they react to you getting hurt | sdv x g/n reader (part one)

part two

a/n: nothing like a little bit of angst. (but a lot of fluff, of course.)

—

elliott

nearly faints when you come home all bandaged up

he's always been confident in your strength, and you've never really gotten that banged up before

so when he sees your arm in a sling, he practically has a heart attack

definitely plays the "who did this to you" card because he's so dramatic

you pray that your husband is asleep as you open your door as quietly as humanly possible, tiptoeing inside your home. it doesn't help that your dominant hand is in a sling, but somehow, you manage to make it to the bedroom without waking elliott up.

just as you think you'll make it into bed successfully, he shifts, eyes fluttering open.

"y/n? did you just get back?"

he reaches over to turn on the lamp.

"wait—!"

"what in the world."

you let out a sigh of defeat as elliott's eyes turn into saucers, his mouth agape as he looks at your injury. as much as you adore your partner and everything he stands for, you know how dramatic he tends to be, especially when it comes to you.

"elliott, please, i promise it's nothing," you try, but he slowly gets out of bed and makes his way across the room to you. "seriously, i'm fine!"

"darling," he starts, his voice scarily quiet as he lightly grabs your shoulders, "who did this to you?"

"what?" you want to laugh, but you also want to see how far he's willing to take this. "what are you talking about?"

finally, emotion fills his eyes as he begins to scan your body for other wounds, acting as if you just came back from fighting a war.

"was it a monster in the mines? were you snuck up on? or worse," he gasps, "was it a person? was my darling attacked by our own kind? tell me, dear, say the word and i'll track them down to the ends of this earth!"

you can hardly take him seriously in his plaid pajamas, but you also feel so lucky to have someone care about you to this extent. emotional tears are even welling in elliott's eyes as he gently pulls you to his chest, holding you as close as he possibly can.

"i don't know what i would do if you were wounded severely, love," he says, kissing the top of your head. he pulls back to look at you deeply in the eyes, suddenly serious. "now, tell me. who, or what, did this?"

"a fishing rod."

". . . what?"

"i strained my shoulder pretty bad while fishing, so harvey said i should wear this sling for a week until it gets a bit better."

"ah, i see." elliott nods, avoiding your gaze as you laugh. "well, that doesn't mean my darling shouldn't be spoiled!"

you let out a cry of amusement as he sweeps you off your feet, laying you gently down in bed and placing the blanket over you snugly. he turns the lamp off before joining you, laying on his side so he can pull you to his chest.

"that was a bit dramatic, wasn't it?" he whispers.

"not at all."

harvey

worried out of his mind

you’re the last person he ever wants to see in his clinic

will absolutely overplay your injury unless you stop him

(though it is nice to be doted on)

"hey, harvey."

you watch as harvey's head shoots up in surprise, knowing that he isn't expecting you this early. typically you would do some work throughout the day before stopping by around lunch to see him, but the clock had just about hit noon. you had decided to take an early trip to the mines as your lovely husband promised to take over your farm chores for the morning — though, thinking back on it, maybe you should have just slept in.

"are you back from the mines already, dear?" he asks, turning to look at you. "that was quick—" he stops in his tracks.

you look at him sheepishly, wincing as you tighten your grip around the cloth wrapped around your injured arm. a hint of blood seeps through it, and you can practically see harvey pale.

"listen," you start, "before you freak out, it's not that—"

"sit, i need to take a look at it right now," he orders, urgency filling his voice. you sigh as he grabs your hand and leads you to the examination table. "how did this even happen? you're usually more careful than this," he scolds, slowly beginning to unwrap the cloth as you do your best to explain.

"i took the elevator pretty far down the mines this morning," you explain, biting your lip in pain as the makeshift bandage fully comes undone. "there were a few monsters i had trouble dealing with. i guess this is what happens when i skip out on my morning coffee."

harvey frowns, shaking his head. "now is not the time for jokes." he shakes his head, gently taking your arm in his hands and looking at your wound. "what if it had been worse? what if you couldn't make it back up, and got trapped? or, worse, what if you got an infection?" he pauses, and you can see all the scenarios running through his head. "then we'd have to transport you to the city's hospital, i'm nowhere near equipped enough to handle that. should i be ordering more supplies?" his eyes widen, his hand hovering over his lips as he continues to ramble on about different ways your story could have ended. he doesn't even notice the exasperated look you're giving him.

"and then i'd have to take over the farm, at least for a while—"

"harvey," you laugh, grabbing his shoulders. he snaps out of his daze, his eyes meeting yours once again. your heart melts at the worry that glazes them. "what matters is i'm here, right? so why don't you properly bandage me up and i'll stay here for a bit, just in case."

he clears his throat, a dust of red printing his cheeks as he nods. he turns to grab some disinfectant and a roll of bandages.

"right. good idea, honey. but, as your doctor," he adds, and you groan at his words, "i say you need to avoid the mines for the next week in order to heal properly, and no extensive farm work, either."

"seriously?" you grimace as he applies the disinfectant before thoroughly wrapping your wound. "who's going to take care of the crops and the animals, then?"

your heart skips a beat when harvey places a soft kiss on top of your bandages before hugging you to his chest. he rests his chin on the top of your head, and you can hear the smile in his voice when he speaks.

"your loving husband, of course."

shane

immediately begins to panic internally when he hears you're at harvey's clinic from emily

sounds angry, but his eyes deceive him — you know he's just worried

tries to act all tough, but he can't help being a bit more protective over you than usual

"what the hell were you thinking?" he questions sharply, barging into the clinic with no greeting. you stifle a laugh at his appearance — from the looks of it, he had just woken up from a nap, his hair touseled and jacket half thrown on. "why didn't you come get me?"

"i told emily to let you know, since i was a little busy trying not to pass out," you joke, but you quickly realize your mistake when he all but shoves harvey out of the way to give you a look over. "shane, i was kidding—"

"how hurt are they?" he demands, his attention turning to harvey. "do they need time to recover? should i do anything?"

the doctor raises an amused brow before replying, "don't worry, the cut on their leg didn't even need stitches. the wounds should be completely healed within a few days. y/n," he turns to you, a kind smile on his face as he takes off his stethoscope, "take it a bit easy for now, alright? at least until your leg is completely better."

"thanks, doc." as you move to stand, you're shocked as shane wraps an arm around you, helping you get on your feet. "what are you . . . ?"

he doesn't meet your eyes. instead, he guides you to the door, a frown imprinted on his face. you hear maru hold back a gasp at the scenario in front of her. harvey nudges her to stay quiet, though it's clear the two are more than amused at the situation at hand.

"didn't you hear him? you need to take it easy," he snaps, and you can see him starting to blush.

"shane," you start, the two of you making your way through the plaza, "you hate PDA." yet, his arm is still wrapped tightly around you as he guides you towards the farm.

"shut up," he grumbles, pulling you closer to his side. "it doesn't count if it's doctor's orders."

you laugh, leaning into his side. you like the change of pace, it's refreshing — not that he'll ever admit this ever happened.

"well, maybe i should get hurt more often, then."

"don't even think about it."

-

lmk if you guys want more !

[eideticmemory]

A LONG DAY | MATTHEW GRAY GUBLER

At the end of a long day, your husband really is the best person to come home to.

Word Count: 2.9k

Warning/Includes: Husband!Matthew !!! Dad!Matthew !!! Delusional fluff!! Even more delusional smut!!

The worst part of getting home so late isn’t the body aches, it isn’t the exhaustion, it’s not even the dozens of bright headlights that blind you on the way home. It’s the darkness. Everything is so dark. You pull into the driveway and the porch light is out, the garage is pitch black. Shutting your car off, you take a moment to lean your head back and sigh, gaining the strength to grab all of your crap, open the door and stumble through the garage. You trip over your daughter’s bike, but you catch yourself and you think you’re going to burst into tears. Instead, you step into the basement where it is almost as dark, save for the soft light of TV where your husband sits on the couch, doing absolutely nothing but wait for you.

Matthew turns around and his face just instantly lights up, “Hey, mama,” he rises to his feet. He takes your bag, your lunchbox and sets them down so he can give you a big, tight, hug. Arms wrapped securely around your waist, face buried in your neck, he whispers, “I missed you.”

And your entire body melts into his, your hands gripping onto his shoulders as you sigh out, “I missed you.” Then he hugs you tighter, lifts you off your feet.

When he puts you down, you still don’t let go, and he chuckles under his breath, but he holds you until you’re ready to let go.

“How are the babies?” you ask him.

“Oh, they’re good,” he nods, and he takes your hand, guides you over to the monitors perched on the coffee table. “They’re asleep. Went down pretty easy.”

“Did they ask about me?” You ask, leaning down to caressing Leo’s face on the screen.

“C’mon, you know they did,” Matthew smiles. “I told them that you were at work but you love them and you’d see them first thing in the morning.”

Your fingertips trace Amelia’s face, and then slowly over Rhiannon’s and it makes you so very sad. Heavy weight on your shoulders, deep in your chest, sad. When you get home late and it’s pitch dark, bedtime has come and gone. The day has come and gone. And the guilt absolutely eats you alive.

Matthew rubs your back, running the heel of his hand up your spine, “Have you eaten?”

You sigh, “Not since lunch,” shaking your head, standing up straight.

“Oh god, babe, let me make you something.”

You release a sharp breath from your nose and instantly rest your forehead on his shoulder.

You are so tired.

“Hm?” he hums, holding you tight.

You give nothing more than a nod, but that’ll do.

“Yeah?” he whispers. “Okay, let’s go upstairs.”

He follows behind you with your stuff up and you close the door behind him, officially lock the house up for the night. Walking towards the stairs, you take a look around and comment, “It’s clean as hell in here.”

He laughs, “Well, thank you for noticing. Shout out to your kids for taking some good naps today so I could actually get some of their shit picked up.”

You give him a dry laugh. It would’ve been louder but you just simply lack the energy.

“Oh, baby, you’re tired,” he kisses your cheek. “Go ahead,” he nods towards the stairs. “I’ve got your food. Go lay down, mama.”

And you really don’t need to be told twice. So you give him a gentle kiss, a quiet, “Thank you,” and you drag yourself up the stairs. You hop in the shower with the pure intention of making it quick, but you take a seat on the floor, letting the water run over your body for much longer than you mean to. Still a bit damp, you throw on Matthew’s shirt and crawl into your bed on all fours, collapsing on the mattress when you reach your designated side. Snuggling into your pillow, you moan under your breath, the relief and comfort washing over you all at once.

Matthew steps into the room, quietly closing the door behind him. And with him is a small plate topped with a sub sandwich and a side of chips. “Is this okay, baby?”

You roll over to take a look, at the sandwich done up with your favorite meats and cheese, the chips you go to when you need a snack. And it is so obvious that someone who knows you and loves you put it together. “Yes, my love,” you smile. “Yes, it’s perfect. Thank you.” You take the plate from him and set it on your nightstand.

“You sure?” he asks as he crawls in beside you, plops down on the bed. “I packed you the same thing for lunch tomorrow, but if you’d prefer something else, I can do that for you.”

You look up at him, run your finger over his collarbone, hook it onto the collar of his shirt. You go to speak, but you lose your train of thought as you touch his hair and his chin, “…take your pants off.”

And you swear, he nearlys goes - what? - but he catches himself. He shuts himself up very quickly and nods, no questions asked. He slides his pants over his hips and down his legs, his briefs flying off the edge right along with them.

You push your panties down, kick them off like it’s what they were meant for all along. As you climb on top of Matthew, his breath catches in his chest and he moans at the soft touch of your lips on his. His arms take you in out of instinct, his hands work their way up your waist and grope your boobs. You hum, holding his face in your hands as you grind your hips on him, feel his cock come alive between your legs.

The warmth of it all has him struggling to keep sane, with him constantly groaning against your lips, digging his nails into your thighs.

“Wait, wait,” he huffs, pushing your hair out of your face. “Don’t…don’t you wanna eat first?”

“Mm-mm,” You shake your head, arch your back and tangle your hands in his hair, “After.”

He nods and opens his mouth just a bit so your tongue can slide between his lips. Your mouths gets slimy and slippery but the two of you cannot stop. You only part so you can spit into your own palm, which you proceed to rub over your pussy. Matthew watches you in astonishment, his eyes glistening as you purr and touch yourself so close to his cock. When you notice, you give him a slutty smile, bite down on your lip and it almost kills him.

He pulls you in for another kiss. This one, longer. Dirtier, all consuming. You grab onto his rock hard cock, covering him in your saliva, feeling him twitch in your palm. His breath shudders and he buckles underneath you, looking up at you with hooded and heavy eyes. You press your nose into his, aligning his cock so that you sink onto it just right.

The small whine you let out is eclipsed by his deep, “Oh!” and he quiets down, muttering, “Fuck…”

You brace yourself on his shoulders, your foreheads pressed together as you move yourself up and down. Slow at first, but then Matthew rests his head on the headboard, his jaw dropped and his forehead beading with sweat and he mumbles, “Oh my god…”

“Yeah?” you moan, caressing his face, and your hips pick up in speed. In intensity, landing on him with a loud, wet thump each time.

“Oh, fuck yes, baby,” he whimpers. “Come here,” he pulls you in by the back of your neck, kissing you with his other hand planted firmly on your ass.

You run your hands down his biceps, squeezing them as you whine from the back of your throat. Your body loses energy but can’t stop bouncing on him, grinding your clit into his tummy. Your breath is shaky, but strong enough to grow in volume, your jaw dropping against Matthew’s mouth as you release your incessant moans. He puts his open mouth on your neck, his tongue on your skin and you gasp, dropping your hips on him, “Fuck!”

“Mm…” he hums, taking a quick bite of your neck, “Oh god, I love you. I fucking love you.”

And instead of saying it back, you just wrap your arms around his shoulders, squeeze him in a hug. He knows.

You grind your teeth together but it’s not enough to keep you quiet. You cry out directly in his ear and claw at the headboard, the motion in your hips becoming careless and sloppy. But, oh, so perfect. Your eyes roll back as you sit up straight, his eyes trained on you and only you.

“You gonna come?” he whispers.

You nod, “I’m gonna come.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I’m…f-fuck…” your eyes cross over one another and you focus all your energy on stimulating your clit, letting yourself get there.

“Fuck!” you shout. “Fu…Matthew…” you moan.

“What is it, baby?” he holds your waist. “Hm?”

You respond with a loud and sudden gasp, followed by a breathy groan that echoes off the walls. Matthew can practically feel the vibration and he can feel your thighs tight around his waist and your pussy tightening around his cock. You stutter and you mumble until it’s nothing more than his name coming out on constant and whiny loop.

“Matthew-“ you choke out. “F-fuck…” until you lose your breath. “Matthew. Oh god, Matthew. Matthew, Matthew…”

“I know, I know,” he whispers, tapping his finger to his lips, “Shhh, shhh, shhh…”

“Matth-mm…” he shuts you up with a kiss and your entire body tenses on contact. He mushes his face into yours but still, you will not stop. You will not shut up because it’s not possible. So he keeps his mouth on yours. He swallows every noise you make and muffles his own against your lips. His arms engulf your waist and you bury your face in his neck, helpless moans bursting from the back of your throat.

“Okay, okay…” he murmurs. “Shhh…just let it out for me, baby…c’mon…”

You gasp as you come down on his cock, your body weakening by the second, your arms draped over his shoulders. You lick his neck and he groans, “Shit.”

You grip onto him. Tighter, and even tighter, working your hips until you come with a long and loud groan, which would’ve been much louder if Matthew wasn’t holding the back of your head, pushing your face into his neck. You fall limp against him, grinding yourself on his lap to ride the wave.

“Oh, that’s my girl,” he purrs, peppering kisses on your shoulder.

You shudder and let out a small squeak, overstimulated as he starts to lift his hips, push his cock into you. “O-oh, fuck,” he stutters.

You hold his face, run your hands down his chest and watch his belly flex as he angles himself inside of you. You can hardly keep yourself up, keep your eyes open, but when he very suddenly chokes out a moan and lifts you off his cock, you gasp, “Oof!” and he shoots all over his stomach. He just didn’t want to make a mess on you. Or, in you. It’s been such a long day.

He trembles, his face twisted up as he finishes all over himself. And his muscles relax into this content smile, which widens once he gets a good look at you.

“Fuck…” he exhales, gives you a light slap on the cheek, “You’re loud, woman.”

You chuckle, covering your mouth, “And this is news to you?”

“Oh, no,” he shakes his head, laughing, “Definitely not.”

You lean down and catch him in a kiss. This one, gentle. Slow. Sweet. He pecks at your lips and promptly pats your ass, “Let me go get cleaned up, mama.”

You nod and roll right off of him, landing face first into your pillow. You feel the bed shift as he stands, but cannot muster the energy to watch him walk away. He returns to find you in the same position and because you are too lazy to look up, you don’t see it coming when he slaps your ass.

“Ow!” you shout and now you look at him.

“You still have to eat,” he grins, placing himself back in bed.

You bury your face in the pillow, whining, “But I’m so tired.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he reaches over you and grabs the plate from your nightstand. “You still gotta eat. C’mon, c’mon.”

You groan and roll over, sitting up to lay in the crook of his arm. He sets the plate in your lap and picks up a chip, holding it to your lips. You sigh and take it in your mouth, chewing it with your eyes half closed.

“Sandwich, too,” he holds it up for you.

You open your mouth to take a small bite and he pulls it away, “No, you can open your mouth wider than that, we both know it.”

You gasp and swat his arm, making him throw his head back and cackle. And just as you go to take a Matthew-approved sized bite, there’s a tired cry from the baby monitor and you both pause. Go absolutely silent. Still. You don’t breathe. Not until Rhiannon rolls over in her crib, grabs her lovey and goes right back to sleep. Then, and only then, do the two of you relax again.

“Phew,” Matthew says. “Okay, sandwich now.”

You roll your eyes at him and finally, you take a bite.

You fall asleep on his chest, but you wake up alone. You roll over to check the time, finding empty beds on every monitor and you grumble to yourself.

Just outside the door, Matthew is walking down the hall with Rhiannon in his arms, Leo holding his hand and Amelia at his side. The plan was, as always, to get them downstairs for breakfast. The plan, as always, does not go the way it should.

“Daddy?” Leo calls. “Where’s mommy?”

“That’s your favorite question, isn’t it?” Matthew laughs.

“Is she at our house?”

“Yeah, she’s sleeping, buddy. She had a long day at work yesterday.”

“But I want mommy.” Leo whines.

“Well, we don’t wanna wake her up. We gotta let her rest.”

“What if we just go look at mommy but we don’t wake her up?” Always, always Amelia with the bright and clever ideas.

Matthew purses his lips as they approach your bedroom door, “You guys have to be quiet, okay? Promise?”

The two of them nod, and they’ve got those satisfied grins on their face only reserved for when they get their way. Matthew quietly opens the door and they find you laid out on your stomach, your head facing the other direction.

“Mommy’s sleeping?” Leo asks.

“Yeah, buddy, I told you. She’s tired, but she’ll be up soon.”

“But-but-but-but…” he stammers. “Can we just give her a kiss?”

This question is what wakes you.

Matthew sighs and glances at your still frame, back down to Leo, “You can give her a kiss, but be gentle.”

He helps the two of them onto the bed and you feel the weight of them landing on the mattress, crawling over to you. You’re trying your best not to laugh, but you cannot keep yourself from smiling. Leo kneels at your side and just as he promised, very carefully and quietly kisses the top of your head. You poke your bottom lip out, melting from the act of love. Amelia places a soft kiss on your shoulder and you just. Can’t even.

“Who’s that kissing me?” you speak suddenly, reaching around to grab Leo’s leg, which makes him scream in excitement. “Who is that? Who is this?” you grab onto Amelia and she squeals.

You flop over and they burst into laughter, Leo instantly falling onto your chest. It knocks the air out of you but in the very best way possible. Amelia piles on top of him and you free yourself just enough to reveal your face to Rhiannon who kicks her feet once the realization hits. Matthew sets her on the bed, grinning like a mad man at the sight of you all. Rhiannon finds herself in the middle of a tight, tight, tight hug.

You kiss their heads, “Oh, hi, my babies,” you laugh. “Hello, hello, hello.”

“Um, mommy?” Amelia calls.

“Yes, my love?”

“Did you have to stay at work when it was nighttime?”

“Yeah, baby, I did. I know it’s hard when mommy works for so long, but I’m back now and I’m just so excited to see you!” you squeal, “Mwah!” and place another kiss on her forehead.

“Hey, do you think you guys can go help daddy with breakfast while mommy gets dressed?”

They nod and you whisper, “Thank youuu,” embracing them one last time.

Matthew smiles at you as they leave the room, and with a good orgasm, a good meal and a good night’s rest in your system, you hop right out of bed. You brush your teeth, change your clothes, fix your hair, until you have the perfect I’m-not-leaving-this-house-today look.

You step out of the bathroom and gasp as you see Matthew rushing towards you. Before you can react, he’s backing you against the wall and putting his mouth on yours, wide open, starving, with his hands gripping at your waist.

“Mm…” you hum when he suddenly pulls away. You giggle, shoving his chest, “Freak.”

He cackles and kisses you again. Again. Once more. Last one. He picks up your hand, places one single kiss on your knuckles, “C’mon, sexy lady, let’s go have some breakfast.”

[quinzzelx]

Reflections

Azriel x Fem! Reader

Request: hello, i’ve been thinking about slight angst to fluffy filth with azriel x reader, i have this idea where reader gets az off in front of a mirror while he says nice things about himself, bc we all know his self esteem is abominable. [...]

Summary: You notice Azriel isn't feeling well and want to show him just how much he is loved.

Word Count: 6.1K

Warnings: Smut, 18! +, Fluffy smut, Soft Azriel, gentle sex, mirror sex.

A/N: This is soooo cute!! I really wanted to make this fluffy. Azriel deserves so much love and I loved writing this. Also, a friend of mine gave me a really mean idea for a very angsty second part, but that would be utter heartbreak omg...

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Azriel moved through the day with a heavier shadow than usual, both literally and figuratively. His usual quiet demeanor had deepened into something more somber, his brooding silence punctuated only by the soft whispers of his shadows that clung close, mirroring his mood. It was one of those days when the weight of his duties hung heavily upon him, laden with guilt, self-doubt, and a gnawing anxiety that he might never truly be enough. His own insecurities clawed at him relentlessly, questioning his worth even as he worked tirelessly behind the scenes, unseen and often unappreciated.

You observed him with a careful eye, noting the subtle shift in his energy, the slight hesitation in his movements. Throughout the centuries of your friendship, which had seen countless shared secrets and moments of vulnerability, you had learned to read him like one of the many books lining the shelves of his dimly-lit office. You both danced around each other in a delicate ballet of unspoken words and intermittent closeness, occasionally succumbing to the gravitational pull of mutual desire that neither of you dared to fully acknowledge or define.

Recently, something had shifted. The air between you was charged, heavy with the things left unsaid, the feelings unexplored. Despite the deep bond you shared, Azriel had begun to pull away, cloaking himself in solitude and silence. His avoidance was a clear sign of his inner turmoil—a battle you knew all too well. He was adept at seeing the good in everyone else, lifting others with his quiet strength and perceptive insights, yet he was blind to the light within himself.

Determined to breach the distance he had imposed, you resolved to confront the barriers he had erected. Catching Azriel was never easy; he was as elusive as the shadows he commanded, adept at hiding his deepest fears and desires. But love, you had decided, was not a thing to be easily relinquished or left unspoken. It was a force as formidable as the magic Azriel wielded, and you were prepared to wield it with all the determination and tenderness it demanded.

You waited for him in his bedroom, adorned in one of your finest and sheerest black lace nightgowns, draped with a silk robe that whispered with every subtle movement. Positioned on the chaise in the corner of his spacious room, you gazed intently into the floor-length mirror adjacent to the door, reflecting not only your own anxious anticipation but also the room’s dark, elegant aesthetic.

As the minutes stretched into what felt like hours, the tension and expectancy built within you. The only sound was the quiet rustle of your gown and the distant, muffled noises of the House of Wind settling for the night.

Finally, the door creaked open, and Azriel stepped through. His arrival was signaled not by a flourish, but by a weary sigh, his silhouette framed momentarily in the doorway. His shoulders were slumped, bearing the invisible yet palpable weight of his duties and doubts.

As he entered, his familiar shadows danced around him, a dark entourage that seemed to pulse with a life of its own. Interestingly, the shadows flickered towards you briefly, acknowledging your presence as if in greeting. Yet, they maintained their silence, not alerting Azriel to your presence. It was as if they, too, conspired in your plan, understanding perhaps the necessity of this confrontation.

Azriel, oblivious to your presence and caught up in his own thoughts, moved slowly into the room. He loosened the clasps of his cloak and began to shed the layers of his formal attire, each movement heavy with exhaustion. It was only as he turned to hang his cloak in the wardrobe that he caught your reflection in the mirror. His movements halted abruptly; his eyes locked onto yours in the reflected image. A complex mixture of surprise, confusion, and a flicker of something deeper played across his features. For a moment, he simply stared, as if processing the sight and its implications.

“Why are you here?” His voice, though soft, carried the weight of his weary confusion and lingering shadows of his earlier brooding.

The room felt charged, the air thick with the unsaid, as you stood gracefully, letting the silk robe fall slightly to reveal more of the delicate lace clinging to your form. “I’m here for you, Azriel,” you said, your voice a gentle yet firm declaration. “I’ve seen how you’ve been carrying your burdens, and you don’t have to bear them alone. Not anymore.”

Your words hung in the air, a soft yet undeniable challenge to the walls he had built around himself. His initial shock gave way to a resigned vulnerability, the barriers beginning to falter under the weight of your sincerity and the palpable concern in your eyes.

Azriel’s gaze lingered on you for a long, silent moment, the battle within him almost visible. Then, slowly, the shadows around him seemed to retreat slightly, as if giving him the space to breathe, to decide. It was your turn to wait, the outcome of your bold move hanging delicately in the balance.

Your movements were smooth and deliberate, each step carrying the quiet confidence of someone who knows their power. As Azriel's gaze lingered on you in the mirror, the sheer lace of your nightgown played a tantalizing dance over your skin, hinting at the promises concealed beneath. When you let the silk robe slip from your shoulders, pooling silently at your feet, his reaction was instantaneous—a low grunt of undisguised desire and perhaps, a hint of conflict.

"You've been avoiding me," you murmured, your voice as soft and enticing as the silk that had just glided off your body. "I missed you, Azriel." The words were simple, but they carried the weight of your genuine concern and longing.

His jaw tensed, a slight narrowing of his eyes betraying his inner turmoil. Muscles tight, he took in the sight of you—each curve accentuated by the delicate lace, the soft lighting casting shadows that played over your form. Doubt flickered behind his gaze, a constant companion in his thoughts. "What are you doing?" he asked, his voice rough with a mix of confusion and rising heat.

Smirking slightly, you stepped closer, each movement calculated to show your appreciation of his formidable presence. His impressive wings, the strong lines of his body—every inch of him spoke of a crafted perfection that took your breath away. But beyond the physical, you saw the soul of the man who had stood by you through centuries, his loyalty unwavering, his strength a beacon. Tonight, you were determined to show Azriel just how much he was loved and adored. He deserved to feel valued, not just by those around him but by himself. If he needed a reminder, you were more than ready to provide it, to break down the barriers he had erected around his heart.

Reaching him, you placed a hand lightly on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart under your palm. "Let me remind you," you said, standing on tiptoes to whisper directly into his ear, your breath a warm caress. "Let me show you how much you mean to me, to all of us. You are not alone, Azriel. You never have been." The intensity of your words seemed to pierce through his defenses. For a moment, he was still, the only movement the subtle rise and fall of his chest. Then, slowly, his arms wrapped around you, pulling you close against him, his embrace a silent acceptance of your offer. His forehead rested against yours, a silent acknowledgment of the connection you shared.

"Mhm," you hum softly, letting one of your hands wander down his back, feeling the tense muscles beneath his shirt as your fingers explore the broad expanse of his shoulders, tracing his tattoos. The warmth of his skin radiated through the fabric, speaking of the battles he fought both outside and within himself. "I want to make you feel good," you whispered, a promise laden with devotion and want.

Azriel's response was almost imperceptible, a slight relaxation under your touch as he allowed himself a moment of vulnerability. His eyes remained closed, focusing intently on the sensation of your hand moving over him. The muscle in his jaw worked silently, a visible sign of the tension he carried. As your scent enveloped him—sweet notes of arousal mixed with the calming lavender of your soap—it threatened to undo the control he so rigidly held over himself. He suppressed a groan, the depth of his yearning surfacing despite his best efforts to maintain composure.

Your other hand gently traced the line of his jaw, feeling the tension there and willing it to ease. "Let go with me, Az," you coaxed, your voice low and soothing. "You don't have to be strong all the time. Not with me." Your words, heartfelt and sincere, aimed to penetrate the walls he built around his emotions, to reach the man who so rarely allowed himself the luxury of being cared for.

Slowly, Azriel opened his eyes, the usual guarded hazel depths now shimmering with a mix of emotions—conflict, desire, and a dawning realization that he could perhaps find solace in your arms. His hand reached up to cover yours, pressing it against his cheek, turning his face to plant a soft kiss in the palm of your hand. It was a small gesture, yet laden with significance, an acknowledgment of his trust and his willingness to lean on you, if only for the night.

You pull him into a kiss, one that starts soft and gentle but quickly escalates into something deeper, more meaningful. Your hand, not content with merely cupping his cheek, slides to the hem of his pants, palming his hardening length through the fabric. The moment he groans softly into the kiss, you seize the opportunity to deepen it, slipping your tongue into his mouth, fully asserting your presence.

The kiss turns heated in an instant. Azriel's hands wander to your waist, his touch sending shivers through your body as he feels your heated skin through the thin fabric of your nightgown. "Fuck," he grunts as the kiss breaks, his eyes roaming over you with newfound intensity. He takes in the sight of your nipples, visibly strained against the sheer lace. "You look..." he trails off, exhaling sharply, the raw desire evident in his gaze. "Absolutely breathtaking."

Encouraged by his reaction, you begin to undress him slowly, each movement deliberate and filled with intention. As you peel away his clothing, his heart hammers in his chest, the sensation distinctly different, more intimate than any encounter before. This wasn't just about physical need—it was about connection, about exposing not just bodies but also hidden depths of emotion.

His shirt falls away, and you take a moment to trace the lines of his well-defined chest, your fingers exploring each scar and muscle, a silent testament to his battles and burdens. Each touch seems to speak words you both had held back, acknowledging his vulnerabilities and strengths without needing to articulate them verbally.

As you kneel to undo his belt, your proximity to him intensifies the atmosphere. The sound of the buckle clinking softly as you open his pants is almost deafening in the quiet room. You glance up at him, finding his eyes locked on yours, a mixture of apprehension and longing swirling within.

With his pants finally loosened, you help him step out of them, leaving him as exposed as you are, both physically and emotionally. Standing back up, you press your body against his, feeling the heat radiating from him, the rapid rise and fall of his chest synchronizing with yours.

"Let me take care of you tonight," you whisper against his lips, a promise hanging between you, as heavy and tangible as the air itself. "Let me love you, Azriel." You guide Azriel to stand before the large mirror, positioning him so that he can see both himself and your reflection. Standing just behind him, you drape your arms over his broad shoulders, allowing your hands to roam freely across the hard planes of his chest. The room's temperature seems to climb with each deliberate caress, the air charged with an electric current of anticipation and desire.

Catching his gaze in the mirror, you let a slow, confident smirk play across your lips. "I want you to watch," you murmur, locking eyes with him through the reflection. Your voice is low, a sultry command that sends a thrill through him.

Your hands move with practiced ease, tracing down his abdomen, feeling the muscles tense under your touch. "Look at how strong you are, my love," you whisper, your voice a mix of admiration and desire.

You hold Azriel's gaze in the mirror, your eyes locking with his as you let your hand slide into the waistband of his underwear, feeling the soft, silky skin of his hard cock beneath your fingertips. Your touch elicits a shiver from him, his eyes fluttering shut as he leans into your embrace, his wings twitching with anticipation.

"I want you to repeat what I say," you murmur, your voice a seductive whisper as you continue to stroke him, your movements slow and deliberate. You feel the tension in his body, the way he strains against your touch, and you revel in the power you have over him in this moment.

"Say it," you command softly, your tone firm yet loving. "Repeat after me."

His breath comes out in shallow pants as he nods, his eyes still closed, lost in the sensations you're evoking in him. "I-I'll repeat," he manages to whisper, his voice husky.

You smile, a knowing smirk playing at the corners of your lips as you guide him through the words, each one a testament to his worth and your desire for him. "I am worthy," you say, your voice steady and sure. "I am strong. I am loved."

Azriel's voice trembles slightly as he echoes your words, his own affirmation mingling with yours in the air between you. "I am worthy," he repeats, his voice growing stronger with each repetition. "I am strong. I am loved."

You feel a swell of pride and affection for him as he speaks, his words a declaration of self-worth and acceptance. But you're not done yet—you want him to know just how much he means to you, how deeply you desire him.

Leaning closer, you press a kiss to the shell of his ear, your lips brushing against his skin as you murmur words of adoration and desire. "You're so fucking sexy, Az," you breathe, your voice low and sultry. "Your body, your mind, your heart—I want all of you. I need all of you."

As you continue to stroke Azriel, you feel him twitch with each movement of your hand, a visceral response to your touch that drives you both further into the realm of lust. The air between you charges with electricity, every touch and whisper amplifying the tension that wraps around you like a tangible force.

"You are incredible," you breathe out, each word laden with desire as you maintain the rhythmic motion of your hand. "Feel every stroke, every touch. This is how much you affect me, how much you are wanted."

His back arches slightly as he presses into you, his breathing deepening. The heat from his body radiates, mingling with yours, creating an enveloping warmth that makes the air around you shimmer. "I love how you respond to me," you continue, your voice a seductive whisper that sends shivers down his spine. "Every shudder, every moan. You're so beautifully responsive."

Your words of praise and the relentless motion of your hand draw deep moans from him, each one escaping his lips like a confession. His hands find yours, his fingers intertwining with yours to increase the pressure, guiding you in the silent language of lovers intimately familiar with each other’s desires.

"Look at us," you command gently, nodding towards the mirror. His eyes open slowly, heavy with arousal, and meet yours in the reflection. The sight of yourselves, wrapped in such an intimate tableau, heightens the erotic charge of the moment. "See how perfect you look, giving in to pleasure. This is you—powerful yet so open and vulnerable with me."

You press your body closer against his, your chest flush against his back, letting him feel the full length of your body, the firmness of your breasts against him. "You are so strong, Azriel, but here with me, you don’t have to be. Just feel," you whisper, accentuating your words with a firmer stroke, pushing him closer to the edge.

You continue your tender assault, spreading kisses from his neck down his shoulder, each touch light and reverent. Azriel's breath comes in heavy pants, a sign of the deep pleasure coursing through him as your thumb grazes the throbbing, sensitive head of his cock, slick with arousal. The gentle yet deliberate movements of your hand contrast with the intensity of the moment, creating a stirring blend of tenderness and heat.

"You're doing so well," you murmur, peppering his skin with soft kisses that make him shiver under your touch. "Feel every sensation, let it wash over you. You deserve this pleasure," you continue, your words dripping with affirmation and encouragement.

As he tries to savor the moment, clinging to the waves of pleasure you elicit from him, you notice the overwhelmed look in his eyes—a mix of disbelief and ecstasy at the gentleness of the encounter. His usual demeanor of control and restraint is nowhere to be seen, replaced by raw, unguarded vulnerability in the reflection of the mirror.

"Keep going, Az," you whisper, your voice a sultry command that sends a shiver down his spine. "Tell yourself how good it feels, praise yourself like I praise you."

A flush of embarrassment mixed with arousal colors his cheeks, his gaze darkening further as he meets your eyes in the mirror. The intimacy of the moment, your hands skillfully wrapped around him, heightens the erotic charge between you. His voice, when it finally emerges, is husky and hesitant, but grows in confidence with each word. "It feels... incredible. I am... strong, and I am desired."

Hearing Azriel voice his own pleasure, a rare admission from him, something coils deep within your stomach, a mix of pride and further craving. His words, reflecting both the affirmations you've given and his own acceptance of them, deepen the connection, making this moment about more than physical pleasure—it's about emotional liberation and acceptance. "Look at how powerful you are, how much control you have over your own pleasure," you guide him, your voice both soothing and seductive.

Encouraged by your words, he begins to move his hips subtly, entering into a rhythm guided by the motions of your hand. His own words become more assured, his voice stronger. "I am powerful... I am worthy of this pleasure... I deserve this."

As he articulates his own worth, his climax builds, the tension in his body winding tighter. His breathing grows erratic, and you tighten your grip just slightly, increasing the pace, pushing him closer with a loving yet firm hand.

"Let go, Azriel," you coax as he teeters on the brink, your voice soft yet commanding. Azriel's grunt resonates with a newfound confidence, his instincts beginning to surface as he takes control. His hips snap forward decisively, rutting into your hand with a series of firm, deliberate thrusts. His gaze locks onto yours in the mirror—dark, intense, filled with a fiery desire that sends a thrill of anticipation coursing through you.

"What do you want, Azriel?" you ask, your voice a soft challenge, laced with curiosity and an undercurrent of your own need for him. The question seems to unleash something within him, a torrent of pent-up longing.

With a decisive movement, he gently removes your hand from his length, confusion flickering across your face. But before you can question his actions, he swiftly pulls you around to face him. The sudden shift in dynamics catches you off guard, and you find yourself staring up into his heated eyes, your back pressed against the cool surface of the mirror.

Azriel's hands find your waist, his grip firm but not constricting, as he leans in close, his breath hot against your ear. "I want you," he murmurs, his voice low and dangerous. "I want to show you just how much I need you, how deep my desire runs."

He pauses, his eyes searching yours for a moment, gauging your reaction, before continuing with a more raw, almost primal tone. "I want to see you unravel beneath me, hear you moan my name as I take you, right here, right now."

His words send a shiver down your spine, a mix of excitement and nervous anticipation bubbling within you. The audacity of his words, the explicitness of his desires—it's intoxicating.

"I want to feel your body tremble as I fill you, to watch your face in the mirror as you come undone from my touch." His fingers trail up your side, light but purposeful, drawing a line of fire along your skin.

Before you can respond, he bends down, his lips finding yours in a kiss that seals his vow, a kiss so deep and consuming that it leaves you breathless. When he pulls back slightly, his gaze is unyielding, locked onto yours with an intensity that holds the world at bay.

"This is what I want," he declares, his voice a blend of raw need and absolute certainty. "Tell me you want it too."

Caught in the whirlwind of his passion, your own desires flare to life, matching his intensity. "Yes," you breathe out, the word a surrender to the storm, an acceptance of his claim over you. "Yes, I want it, Azriel."

Satisfied with your affirmation, he smiles, a predatory, triumphant curve of his lips that promises untold pleasures. The chill causes your nipples to harden immediately, a visible reaction that doesn't escape his intense gaze. His eyes, dark and predatory, drink in every inch of your revealed skin with undisguised hunger. His scarred hand ventures lower, tracing a bold path down your abdomen until it finds the heat between your legs. You gasp, a soft moan escaping your lips, as his fingers explore your wetness, a rough groan vibrating from his throat in response to your arousal.

"Azriel," you whimper, your voice laced with need and a faint protest, "this was supposed to be about you."

He looks up at you, a sly grin playing at the corners of his lips. "Believe me," he responds, his voice low and husky, pressing his fingers more insistently against you, "making you feel good is very much in my best interest." His words are punctuated by a deliberate stroke that sends a jolt of pleasure coursing through your body, making your knees buckle slightly.

He steadies you with a firm arm around your waist, his touch both possessive and protective. "Seeing you unravel, hearing you moan my name—it’s what I need right now," he continues, his tone both commanding and coaxing. Azriel gently turns you to face the mirror, pulling you back against his chest. The heat of his body envelops you, and you feel the firm pressure of his arousal against your lower back. Instinctively, one of your hands reaches back between your bodies, grasping him firmly, feeling his length and hardness, which elicits a soft groan from both of you.

 His fingers continue their expert ministrations, circling, teasing, pushing you toward the edge with skilled precision.

The room seems to close in around you, the mirror reflecting your intertwined forms, a visual echo of the intense connection that sizzles between you. Every touch, every whisper, intensifies the electric charge in the air, pulling you deeper into the vortex of desire.

As Azriel's hand works its magic, you find yourself leaning back into his chest, seeking support as your body begins to tremble under the onslaught of pleasure. His other hand travels up to cup your breast, thumb flicking over your nipple in a rhythm that mirrors the actions of his fingers below.

"This is about us," Azriel murmurs into your ear, his breath hot against your skin. "About me showing you how much you mean to me, how much I want you." Azriel’s touch becomes even more deliberate as he strokes your clit, his fingers tracing the contours of your slick folds before teasing at your entrance. All the while, he whispers sweet affirmations into your ear.

In the mirror, Azriel watches every reaction that flickers across your face—each flutter of your eyelids, every bite of your lip, the way your brows furrow slightly in concentration and pleasure. This visual feedback drives him, his actions tuned to elicit more of those beautiful responses.

"You always make me feel incredible, Azriel," you breathe out, meeting his gaze in the mirror. "No one else can make me feel like this."

His eyes, dark with his want and need, reflect a mix of pride and deep affection. "You’re mine," he affirms, the possessive words not a demand but a declaration. His fingers resume their motion, now with a renewed vigor, as if spurred on by your admissions.

You watch together in the mirror as his fingers delve deeper, exploring you, his other hand caressing your breast, pinching and rolling your nipple between expert fingers. The dual sensations, coupled with the intensely erotic sight of your intertwined bodies reflected back at you, drive your arousal higher. "I want you to see how much you enjoy this, how you respond to

me," Azriel murmurs, his lips grazing the sensitive skin at the nape of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. "I want you to watch yourself come undone because of what I do to you." As the heat of your arousal intensifies, you find yourself overwhelmed by the need for more—for him. Your whispered disclosure sends a visible shudder through Azriel, and you feel his response in the twitch of his length in your grasp. His gaze softens, filled with a tumult of emotions that had shadowed him earlier, now mingling with the undeniable love and warmth radiating from your intertwined bodies.

"Earlier," he drawls, his voice thick with emotion as he thrusts one finger deep inside you, causing a sharp intake of breath. "You said you want all of me..." His words trail off as he watches your reaction, then, deliberately, he slides a second finger alongside the first, stretching and filling you, pausing to let each sensation sink in. "Not just my body, but my heart."

His fingers move rhythmically, pumping into your core as his body presses flush against yours, his breath warm against the skin of your neck. His lips gently flutter over your skin, each touch a whisper of affection and promise. "Tell me," he commands softly, his request hanging in the air, laden with deeper implications.

Meeting his gaze in the mirror, you breathe out your confession, each word laced with the depth of your feelings. "I love you, Azriel." The words hang between you, powerful and sincere. As his movements inside you pause, you continue, compelled to reassure him of his worth. "You deserve to be loved. I don't know anyone else who deserves it more than you do."

In that moment, something shifts in Azriel’s eyes—a flicker of vulnerability, a glint that might be the beginning of belief, something warm and soft. His fingers resume their motion, but now with a tenderness that mirrors the emotion swelling in the room. Slowly, he withdraws his fingers, only to replace them with the head of his cock, positioning himself at your entrance. The anticipation makes your heart beat wildly, every nerve alight with the need for him.

"You deserve to be loved too," Azriel whispers back, his voice husky with emotion. "And I—I love you, more than I ever thought possible." With that confession, he pushes forward, entering you in one smooth, deliberate motion that makes you gasp both from the fullness and the profound significance of his words. As the intensity of your passion deepens, each thrust is imbued with a profound sense of connection, a merging of souls as much as bodies. Azriel's eyes, filled with a mixture of desire and adoration, remain locked on yours in the mirror, capturing every expression of pleasure that dances across your features.

You're bent forward slightly, your back arched, your body yielding to his as he continues to fill you with each delicious thrust. Wet sounds fill the air, mingling with heavy breathing and soft pleas as the rhythm of your lovemaking builds, each movement proof to the depth of your connection.

Unlike your previous encounters, which were fueled by hunger and passion, now it is suffused with something more profound—love. "My legs are about to give out," you whimper, feeling the strain of the pleasure coursing through your body.

Azriel responds by pulling you back against his chest, his hand firm yet gentle around your throat, guiding you to stand straight as he continues to grind his hips against yours. The sensation of his cock nestled deep inside you, combined with the warmth of his body pressed against yours, sends wave after wave of pleasure through you. With a soft smile and a lingering touch, he slowly withdraws from you, the air cool against your heated skin. Turning you to face him, his eyes brim with love—a look so intense, it feels as though it could completely engulf you. He seals his emotions with a kiss, tender and passionate, a perfect echo of the feelings swirling between you.

He guides you gently towards the bed, sinking back first onto the soft sheets. You climb over him, straddling his hips with graceful ease. Lowering yourself back down onto him, a mutual groan fills the space, the sensation overwhelming yet deeply right. The kiss never breaks, each movement of your lips in sync with the rolling motion of your hips.

His hands find your hips, gripping gently, guiding and meeting each movement with his own. Every thrust is a word unsaid, every connection a line in a poem of your intertwining lives. The way his body responds to yours, the way your heartbeats seem to synchronize with each thrust, it all culminates into an exquisite dance of love. As you continue to move rhythmically above him, Azriel's words flow like a soothing stream, each phrase dripping with affection and devotion, encouraging your every motion. "You're everything to me," he murmurs, his voice a gentle rumble that vibrates through your core. His hands are tender yet purposeful, one gliding to stroke your clit in slow, deliberate circles that send waves of pleasure crashing through you.

The intensity of his touch makes you gasp, your head tilting back as stars burst behind your closed eyelids. Feeling the shift, Azriel gently guides you back down, his body rising to meet yours. His lips find the delicate skin of your breasts, and his teeth graze lightly, careful not to hurt but enough to send a shiver down your spine. He marks you lovingly, each kiss and nibble a witness to his deep feelings, branding you as his in the most intimate of ways.

The room is filled with the sound of your combined sighs and the soft rustle of the sheets as you move together. Azriel's other hand anchors you, his fingers digging gently into your hips, guiding your movements to meet his upward thrusts. The dual stimulation of his fingers on your clit and his deep, steady strokes inside you draws you ever closer to the edge.

His eyes never leave your face, watching every flicker of pleasure, every shift of emotion as you ride the waves together. He sits up slightly, his arms wrapping around you to pull you closer, chest to chest, heart to heart. His breath is warm on your neck, his murmurs filled with words of love and future promises.

"Let go with me," he whispers, his voice husky with desire. "Let me feel you come undone."

Encouraged by his words and overwhelmed by the mounting pleasure, you surrender fully to the sensations. The world narrows down to the here and now, to the feel of Azriel beneath you, inside you, all around you. As you climax, your body tightens around him, a wave of euphoria washing over you in an intense, all-encompassing rush, crashing down on you like a tidal wave. Azriel follows shortly after, his own release spurred by the tightening grip of your body and the overwhelming sense of love.

In the aftermath, you collapse against him, both of you panting, sweat mingling, hearts beating in a synchronized rhythm of deep contentment. Azriel's arms hold you close, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

"We are made for each other," he breathes out, a smile in his voice, the weight of the world lifted from his shoulders. As you lie intertwined with Azriel, the tender strokes of his fingers drawing soft patterns on your back, a sense of tranquility envelops you, wrapping you in a cocoon of warmth and affection. The air is filled with a serene stillness, broken only by the steady rhythm of your breaths mingling in the quiet of the room.

You feel a surge of emotion welling up within you, a profound sense of gratitude for this man who holds you in his arms. With a soft smile playing on your lips, you nestle closer to him, your head resting against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear. It's as if the world fades away, leaving only the two of you in this bubble of love and warmth.

"Azriel," you begin, your voice barely above a whisper, "you deserve the world and more." Your words are imbued with sincerity, each syllable carrying the weight of your affection. "You've always been the one to give so much, to sacrifice without hesitation. And yet, you never ask for anything in return."

Tears well up in your eyes as you continue, overwhelmed by the depth of your feelings. "You're the most beautiful soul I've ever known, inside and out. And I... I love you more than words can express."

A soft gasp escapes your lips as you struggle to articulate the depth of your emotions, the magnitude of your love for him. "Sometimes," you admit, your voice barely a whisper, "it feels like the weight of the world is crushing down on me, suffocating me. But then... then you walk into the room, and suddenly, everything becomes clear. I can breathe again." Your confession hangs in the air, the silence punctuated only by the gentle rise and fall of your breaths.  

As tears well up in Azriel's eyes, his gaze meets yours with a depth of emotion that takes your breath away. His brows furrow with the intensity of his feelings, and he pulls you closer to him, wrapping you in a tight embrace. With trembling hands, he gently lifts your chin, capturing your lips in a soul-crushing kiss.

In that moment, he pours every ounce of love and tenderness into the kiss, conveying with each touch the depth of his emotions. As you part, his chest heaves with emotion, and he gazes into your eyes with a vulnerability that renders you speechless.

"My love," he whispers, his voice thick with emotion, "those words... they mean more to me than you could ever know." He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, his touch feather-light against your skin. "I never thought myself deserving of such affection," he confesses, his voice raw with honesty. "But you..”

He takes a deep breath, his gaze never wavering from yours. "With you by my side, I can finally sleep peacefully," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "For centuries, I wandered in darkness, haunted by my past. But with you, I've found solace, a sense of peace that I never thought possible."

You reach out, cupping his face in your hands, your thumbs gently wiping away the tears that still linger in his honey-colored eyes. "Az," you whisper, your voice filled with tenderness, "you deserve all the love in the world. You are worthy of every ounce of affection I have to give."

With a soft smile, you press a kiss to his lips, a silent promise of your unwavering devotion. "Together," you murmur against his lips, "we'll navigate through the darkness, hand in hand, until we find the light." In that moment, surrounded by the warmth of each other's embrace, you know that you've found your home in each other's arms. And as you hold each other close, you're filled with a sense of peace and contentment that you know will carry you through whatever trials lie ahead.

[dissapointu]

You are extremely cool, I am impressed by your works, really, your content is amazing. If you don mind (ignore that if you do) I would love to read about arcane characters who found out that their s/o are self harming. English is not my native language, so sorry if I wrote something wrong. And thank you again for your content, it’s healing me

Thank you so much for your kind words—they mean the world to me, truly. I’m so honored that my writing can bring you even a little bit of comfort. You’re so brave for sharing this request, and I want you to know I’m writing this with as much care and as I can. You’re never alone, and you deserve all the support, love, and healing in the world.

Jinx

Jinx has lived through her own struggles, so when she finds out, it hits her hard.

• At first, she’d be shocked, maybe even a little panicked. “Wait, wait… you’re serious? You’re really feeling this way?”

• But once it sinks in, her protective side takes over. She’d grab your hands, look you in the eyes, and say something like, “You don’t have to hurt yourself, okay? I’m here. Always. You can tell me anything.”

• Jinx might struggle to find the right words, but she’d pour her energy into reminding you how much you mean to her, distracting you with her chaotic ideas or working on projects together to keep your mind busy.

• “You’re stuck with me, got it? No matter what.”

Vi

Vi would feel a gut punch of worry and guilt when she finds out, blaming herself for not noticing sooner.

• She’d approach you carefully, her usual confidence softened by concern. “Hey, I know something’s going on. You can talk to me. I’m not going anywhere.”

• When you open up, she’d immediately pull you into a hug, holding you tightly like she could shield you from your pain. “I don’t care how bad it gets. You’re not alone in this, okay? I’m with you.”

• Vi would try to help in her practical, straightforward way—whether that’s sitting with you during hard times, helping you find support, or just being a safe space for you to vent.

• “You’re strong. And on the days you don’t feel strong, I’ll be strong enough for both of us.”

Sevika

Sevika might not know how to respond at first, but underneath her tough exterior, she’d be deeply shaken and determined to support you.

• She’d bring it up gently, her voice calm but serious. “I’ve noticed… some things. You wanna tell me what’s goin’ on?”

• Once you told her, she’d listen carefully, nodding as she processes what you’re saying. “Alright. Thanks for telling me. You don’t have to do this alone anymore. I’ve got you.”

• Sevika would be protective in her own quiet way, always keeping an eye on you without making you feel overwhelmed. She’d remind you of your strength, even when you couldn’t see it yourself.

• “You’re tougher than whatever’s weighing you down. And I’ll remind you of that every day if I have to.”

Silco

Silco would approach the situation with a calm intensity, his protective instincts kicking in immediately.

• He’d carefully bring it up when you seemed open to talking, his voice low but steady. “I’ve seen the marks. Let me help you.”

• When you open up, he’d listen without interruption, his expression serious but full of quiet care. “The weight you carry is yours, but you don’t have to carry it alone. You are far more than this pain.”

• Silco would offer practical help, ensuring you have resources or someone to talk to. He’d remind you of your worth with every gesture and word, showing you that he sees you as more than your struggles.

Vander

Vander would be heartbroken when he finds out, but he’d immediately focus on making you feel safe and supported.

• He’d sit you down somewhere quiet, his voice soft but firm. “Hey, I’ve noticed some things that worry me. Can we talk?”

• When you open up, he’d pull you into a warm, protective hug, whispering, “You don’t have to go through this alone. I’m here, no matter what.”

• Vander would be the type to check in regularly, always making sure you feel loved and valued. He’d remind you of all the reasons he admires you, even on days when you struggle to see them yourself.

Ekko

Ekko would be hit hard when he finds out, but he’d channel his feelings into being the best support system he could be.

• He’d approach you gently, finding the right moment to say, “Hey, I noticed some stuff, and I just wanna make sure you’re okay. You know you can tell me anything, right?”

• When you open up, he’d nod, taking it all in with quiet understanding. “Thanks for trusting me. I know it’s not easy.”

• Ekko would find little ways to lift you up—whether it’s spending time with you, leaving you encouraging notes, or reminding you of all the things he loves about you.

• “You’ve got me, okay? We’re in this together.”

Jayce

Jayce would be deeply concerned but determined to be there for you in every way possible.

• He’d sit you down gently and say, “I’ve noticed something… and I just want to make sure you’re alright. Can we talk about it?”

• When you open up, he’d listen carefully, his hands holding yours tightly. “You’re not alone in this. I’m here, and I’ll do whatever it takes to help you.”

• Jayce would be all about finding solutions, whether that’s helping you access resources, supporting you in your healing, or just being a steady presence in your life.

Viktor

Viktor would be quietly devastated when he finds out, but his empathy would shine through.

• He’d bring it up carefully, his voice soft but full of concern. “I’ve noticed some things, and… I just want to make sure you’re alright. Can you talk to me?”

• When you open up, he’d listen with his full attention, nodding as he processes everything. “Thank you for telling me. I know it’s not easy.”

• Viktor would find thoughtful ways to support you, whether it’s leaving you encouraging words, sharing quiet moments with you, or reminding you that he sees you as more than your pain.

Caitlyn

Caitlyn would approach the situation with grace and quiet strength.

• She’d gently sit you down and say, “I’ve noticed some things that worry me. You don’t have to talk about it if you’re not ready, but I’m here.”

• When you open up, she’d take your hand and say softly, “You’re so important to me, and I want to help in any way I can. You’re not alone.”

• Caitlyn would make sure you feel supported without overwhelming you, always reminding you of how much she admires and cares for you.

Mel Medarda

Mel would be deeply empathetic and immediately focused on supporting you in a way that feels meaningful.

• She’d approach you gently but directly, saying, “I’ve noticed something… and I want to help. Can we talk?”

• When you open up, she’d listen carefully, her expression soft but serious. “You are worth every bit of effort and care, and I’ll remind you of that as often as you need.”

• Mel would be the type to help you find resources or create a support system, always making sure you know you’re loved and valued.

Ambessa Medarda

Ambessa would approach the situation with quiet strength and determination.

• She’d bring it up directly but with care, saying, “You’ve been carrying this alone for too long. Let me help.”

• When you open up, she’d nod seriously and say, “You are stronger than this pain, and I’ll stand by you every step of the way.”

• Ambessa would be fiercely protective, always reminding you of your worth and showing you that you’re never alone in this battle.

Maddie Nolen

Maddie would be soft and empathetic, immediately focusing on making you feel safe.

• She’d sit with you quietly and say, “I noticed some things, and I just want to make sure you’re okay. Can we talk?”

• When you open up, she’d hold your hands tightly and say, “Thank you for telling me. I’m here, always.”

• Maddie would be the type to check in with you often, reminding you through little actions and words that you’re loved and never alone.

Lest

Lest would be heartbroken but gentle and supportive when she finds out.

• She’d approach you with quiet care, saying, “I noticed something, and I just want to make sure you’re okay. Can we talk?”

• When you open up, she’d listen attentively and say softly, “Thank you for trusting me. You don’t have to carry this alone anymore.”

• Lest would make sure you always felt loved and valued, reminding you that you mean so much to her.