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marvelwitchergilmore · 1 month ago

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Something's Changed

Summary: Logan Howlett x Fe!Reader -> Something changed when you and Logan kissed. Did it change for the better?

Disclaimer: Fluff, angst, kissing, steam/illusions to sex, best friends to lovers vibes. Mentions of cheating (not reader or Logan -- a client of reader as reader is mentioned to be a PI). First kiss = fake dating...sorta. Some swearing. Not Proof Read.

Something changed when you kissed Logan. Or, maybe it was when he kissed you. Either way, something had changed.

Only, neither of you wanted to admit it.

“Hey, is everything okay between you and Logan? Usually you’re joined at the hip but I…I haven’t seen you both together for a while.” Jean asked as she spotted you in the kitchen as she poured herself some coffee.

“Yeah, everything’s fine. Why?” You popped another grape into your mouth, praying she’d drop her question.

Jean looked you over. You could only thank your mutation that you could block her ability to read your mind.

“Are you sure?”

To Jean, you looked a little dazed as you nodded your head and walked towards the door. “Yep. Everything’s perfect.”

Everything’s perfect.

Everything’s perfect?

Everything was perfect.

Until you kissed.

Turning down the hallway, you made your way towards your classroom but not before stalling at the door. From down the hall, Logan had turned the corner, looking up from the open History Essay books in his arms.

Jean watched from the kitchen door as you and Logan stopped in your tracks and had a broken connection of a conversation before sheepishly escaping into your assigned classrooms.

Something had been different between you both for three weeks. One morning, like every morning, she had watched you and Logan at the breakfast table. Eating. Talking. Laughing.

When Logan had first come to the school, the first time Jean had ever seen Logan laugh – truly laugh – was with you.

Ever since, until three weeks ago, you had been inseparable.

So what had happened?

It was the next day when a second person questioned you about what had happened, but since she didn’t get the answers she wanted, she turned to interrogate the only other person who could give her an actual answer.

“Okay, what happened?”

Logan looked up from his marking to see Rogue plant herself in the chair opposite his desk.

“Shouldn’t you be studying?”

Rogue smiled. “I graduated last year, remember?”

“Then don’t you have college to deal with?”

She shook her head. “Not until next week. All assignments are in. I’m as free as a bird.”

“Then go and…peck at someone else. I’ve got work to do.”

Rogue nodded with a smile, kicking her feet up onto the corner of Logan’s desk. “I could always help.”

Stopping his marking, his pen hovering above the page, Logan finally looked up at Rogue and found her looking…too happy at him.

“What do you want?”

Rogue waited for a moment, wondering if he actually wanted to know. But she knew him. The quicker he got through her question, the quicker he could be left alone.

“I want to know what happened. Between you and Y/n.”

Logan’s face dropped and he turned back to his work. “Nothing happened.”

“I’d beg to differ.”

“You’d beg to differ?”

Rogue shrugged. “My Professors are English. But, yes. I’d beg to differ. You two were inseparable. So what happened? You’ve been sulking around here for weeks.”

“I don’t sulk.”

“You sulk.”

“And nothing happened.” Logan repeated. “Why not go and ask her?”

“I already did. She told me to come here.”

Logan looked back up. “She did?”

Rogue couldn’t hide her smirk. God, he was so smitten with you.

“Not in so many words.”

“In how many words exactly?”

Rogue shrugged. “It’s besides the point. Something has happened and I want to know what.”

Logan sighed. “Nothing happened. But I am busy so…” Logan waved his hand at her for her to leave, but she only sat up in her chair and leaned in.

“Did you tell her?”

“Tell her what?” Logan asked, without looking up.

“That you love her.”

That got his attention.

“It’s okay.” Rogue assured him. “Everyone knows. Well, mostly everyone. The students know, and the Professor-”

“I’m not in love with her.”

Rogue sighed. Was he really going to be in denial?

“Logan,” Rogue began. “You look at her like she hung the moon. You spend practically every waking minute with her, and some sleeping. Yes, I was the one to cover you both up with a blanket. You’re welcome. You know her like the back of your hand. Better yet, you know each other better than anyone knows either of you. I know you get up early every morning to make her coffee-”

“Okay, okay, okay. Those things might be true. But that doesn’t mean I’m in love with her.”

“Then why did you kiss her?”

Logan practically stood to attention. “She told you that?”

Logan watched as Rogue remained seated and smiled up at him. “No. But you just did.”

She was a little minx.

“Look, truth be told. I don’t know what happened. But now that I know that you both kissed…”

Logan swallowed thickly and steadied himself on his desk. “We did-We didn’t kiss.”

Rogue smiled as she stood. “Sure. But, Logan. If I were you, I’d talk to her. And once you’ve done that, talk to me. I want to know all the details.”

Rogue left with just a smile and no other words. Meanwhile, Logan felt like he’d been put into a boxing ring, was sent to the floor, poured into a broken washing machine and yanked between two sharp pegs on a frayed washing line.

He sat himself down.

If you weren’t going to be the death of him, Rogue definitely was.

In your room, you lay on your bed, a pillow against your chest. Ever since classes ended, you had been in your room, hugging your pillow, staring at the ceiling, replaying the thing that changed you and Logan seemingly for good.

You’d been tasked with following a suspect. It wasn’t anything too elaborate. Except, half way through your day, you had found you had a tail of your own. Logan. Apparently he’d been following you around the city in case something would have happened and you needed back up.

“What if you get caught?”

“Logan,” you sighed. “I’ve been a PI for over a decade. I think I know what I’m doing.”

“Still, I’m coming with you.”

“Logan, he’s suspected of cheating. His wife needs evidence if she’s going to divorce him. It’s not like I’m following the head of a mob or something.”

Logan shrugged. “He could be the head of a mob.”

You didn’t look impressed. “He’s an accountant from Minnesota.”

“Still could be the head of a mob.”

He wasn’t going to leave.

“Nope.”

You didn’t even ask, but he answered anyway.

“Fine. You can stay, just…don’t go all Wolverine on me.”

Logan followed you. “You say that as if it happens all the time.”

“Logan, a guy asked me out at the grocery last week and you punctured a bag of rice.”

Logan’s eyebrows furrowed at the reminder, all the while his hand came to the bottom of your back as he helped you through the busy street. “He was getting too close for comfort. And who asks someone out in the grocery store anyway! He didn’t even know you!”

You and Logan followed your maybe-head-of-a-mob accountant from Minnesota around all day. And until then it had been mostly coffee runs, business meetings in tall buildings with high offices and quick lunches at the cafe on the corner of the street.

Until he decided to take a detour. A text from your client let you know he had told her he had a business meeting run over late, so he’d miss dinner.

“Doesn’t look like he’s in a business meeting.”

So, you and Logan followed.

Except, once you had both gotten out of your car, there was nowhere in particular either of you could hide. The street was a small town street, quiet enough to alert everyone that someone new was in town.

And with Logan being…well, Logan. It meant a lot of eyes were on both of you. Two strangers in a small town, who seemed to be taking the exact same walking turns as the man, who a few seemed to recognise, in front of you.

It was only as you and Logan slowed your paces that you realised he had taken hold of your hand.

“Stay close to me.”

You did as he said. The more you both looked like a couple, maybe the less stares you’d get as you walked down the street towards-

“Come here.”

Logan pulled you in close to him as you both disappeared into the darkness of a small alleyway.

“Logan, what are you-”

“Shush.”

He seemed to be focusing on something. His hearing.

“What is it?”

After a few moments, he finally told you. “Phone call. He’s meeting up with a woman called Sandra.”

“Sandra’s his co-worker.”

A little more following and you and Logan came to a stop by a motel.

“Well, this doesn’t look like the place to have an affair at all.”

As you stood on the corner, hidden behind the sharp edges of a brick wall, you snapped a few shots of him leaving his car, meeting Sandra by the door, sharing a kiss and- shit. He was turning back.

“Oh, shit.”

You had moved down the street to get some clearer shots. Only, now his car was practically parallel to where you and Logan were standing.

“Shit. Shit, shit, shit.”

“What do we do?”

Logan might have been able to run fast enough to get back to the main street, but you couldn’t. And it would have looked too suspicious to be moving that fast away from an already suspicious meeting.

He was getting closer.

Apart from the buzzing of the lights close by, you could hear his dress shoes against the gravel getting closer and closer.

You looked up at Logan. “Kiss me.”

“What?”

“Kiss me.”

Logan seemed frozen in place.

The shoes were getting closer.

With slight panic, you let out a small groan followed by a quick, “I’m sorry.” Placing your hand at the back of his head, you pulled him down to kiss him. And, for a moment, he was rigid. Stuck on the spot. Frozen in time.

It didn’t have to be a good kiss. The darkness you both were in covered you enough so that, just sharing a crappy kiss with your best friend saved both of your asses from the guy who was fast approaching.

Except it wasn’t crappy.

Not after that split second moment.

Because you found Logan kissing you back.

He shocked you at first, but then…you wanted more. You didn’t want him to stop. His hands pushing through your loose hair, his body coming closer to yours, his arm around your waist, your own hand in his hair, down his neck, your desperation for breath.

Neither of you had noticed the man stall on the gravel when he saw you both. Quickly, he made his way to his car to take out the box of condoms from the glove compartment before locking his car and hurrying his way back towards his motel room.

And somehow in that space of time, you and Logan had stopped. Both of your chests begging for breath, his hands still like fire against your skin. The kind you never wanted to put out.

“I…” your voice shook. “I think that worked.”

“I think it worked, too.”

You heard yourself apologise to him, for kissing him. It might have just been the best kiss of your life, and you heard yourself apologise to him. Then everything came back into focus. You had just shared the best kiss of your life with Logan. Your best friend. Your partner. Your person.

“I think I’ve got enough evidence. We…we should…”

Logan stepped away from you and you heard your inner voice yell for him to step back into you.

“We should go.” Logan finished your sentence.

Nodding, you led the way back to the car.

The journey back was…silent. No talking. No laughing. Nothing but the awkward readjustment of seating every now and again and silence.

And nothing had been the same since.

One kiss and suddenly you were…no longer Y/n and Logan. You were Y/n. And Logan.

Opening your eyes, you turned your head and looked outside. You must have been daydreaming for so long, you fell asleep. The moon was out, hanging bright in the sky, surrounded by a blanket of stars that no doubt were being tracked by the small astrological society that had been set up in the school.

Turning to look at your desk, you found the time.

Just a little before midnight.

You had missed dinner. And as if on cue, your stomach growled.

So, after changing into your pyjamas and pulling your hair back, you slipped your feet into the warmest socks you could find and made your way downstairs and towards the kitchen. Everywhere was dark, save for the kitchen light which remained on.

“Hello?” You called out. ‘Lights out’ had been called out hours ago. No student should be up this late.

“Please don’t yell.”

Walking a little further into the kitchen, you found Bobby sitting at a small table with a bowl of cereal, the milk and box still by him.

With a tired smile, you shook your head and reached for a bowl in the top cupboard.

“You’re not a student here anymore, Bobby. You can’t get in trouble for staying up this late.”

Bobby chuckled a little. “I know. Sometimes it just feels…like I never left.”

Joining him, you poured some cereal into your own bowl, followed by the milk. Once you’d placed the milk back in the fridge, you reached into the draw to grab a spoon and sat down across from him.

“Still plenty of change around here.”

“Like you and Logan?”

You hadn’t even taken your first bite.

Bobby held back a laugh. “Sorry. Rogue told me something happened. Did something happen?”

Sighing, you pulled your legs under the table and pushed the cereal deeper into the milk.

“One of my professor’s told me sometimes it’s better to say it out loud so it doesn’t feel so big. No one else is awake. And you know Rogue will only keep pestering you.”

Your eyes narrowed a little looking at Bobby. “Did she-”

Quickly, he shook his head. “No. Not at all. You just…you look like you need to talk to someone.”

It was true. You did need to talk to someone.

“Usually I’d talk to Logan,” you admitted.

“But you had a fight?”

You shook your head, chewing your food before swallowing. “No. The complete opposite…sorta.”

“Then what happened?”

You hesitated for a moment. “Promise me you won’t tell anyone?”

Bobby nodded. “Patient-Doctor confidentiality.”

You smiled a little at that. He wasn’t a doctor yet but the fact he still treated the situation as such was a good sign. Especially considering Rogue could get a lot of information out of him, or anyone for that matter.

“Well, we…we kissed.”

You waited for Bobby’s reaction. But it never came, until…

“Finally.” He turned back to eating as if nothing had been said.

“Finally?” You asked.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “We’ve all been waiting for you and Logan to finally do something for years.”

“Bobby!”

“What? Oh, come on. You two are practically soulmates. You spend every waking hour together, and some sleeping. I know Rogue has caught you both asleep on the sofa together a couple of times because she never shuts up about it. You only really trust each other. And, with that, you both won the couple’s round last game night and neither of you were playing.”

That was true.

You and Logan, being the single ones out of the adults, had sat out of the round but whilst sat by the desk under the window, you both stated aloud what the other person would have chosen whilst some of the couples struggled with finding an answer.

Logan kept score on a piece of paper, but Rogue had been keeping her own’ later declaring that night that yourself and Logan had won.

Shaking your head to bring yourself back to the present, you looked at Bobby. “Look, we kissed and…we haven’t spoken since.”

“Was it a good kiss?”

You made a face at Bobby but he just shrugged, so with a roll of your eyes you turned back to your cereal. “Yes. No. Maybe? Yes, yes. Okay. Yes, it was a good kiss.”

“And would you like to kiss him again?”

“Are you even allowed to ask these questions?”

Bobby smiled, taking another bite of his cereal. “That’s not a no.”

You pointed your spoon at him. “If you tell anyone this, I’ll kill you.”

“Okay, but when Rogue finds out I knew first, there might be a line.”

The next couple of minutes were spent in silence as you both ate until Bobby was close to finishing and crossed his arms. “Do you love him?”

You almost dropped your spoon as you looked up. “What?”

“Do. You, Love, Him?”

Your conscious and subconscious both screamed “YES” but your mouth didn’t move.

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

Bobby sat back. “It’s got everything to do with it. Clearly, you want to kiss him again. And, even more clearly, you’re in love with him so-”

“Now, wait a minute.”

“It’s got everything to do with it. You and Logan have been around each other for so long, you don’t know where else to go in fear of something changing. But, you should know – things have already changed.”

“You think I don’t know that?”

“Oh, I know you know it.” Bobby finished off his cereal. “But I think you need to accept it. Even if you’re scared of something changing, you should talk to him. Things have already changed and they could go back to how they were before, but I have a feeling they might just change for the better. You should let yourself believe that; that it’s changed for the better.”

Changed for the better.

Changed for the better?

Those four words echoed over and over in your head as you sat in the kitchen alone, as you washed your dishes, as you walked around the school, as you walked upstairs and into your bathroom and as you laid down in bed and fell asleep.

Logan was your best friend. You never wanted to lose him, under any circumstances. But if the last four weeks had been anything to go by, things definitely hadn’t changed for the better.

Another two weeks went by and you had somehow seen less of Logan in those two weeks than you had done in the four weeks beforehand.

Until you were assigned a new classroom. A joint lesson was going to be taught. Who your fellow teacher was going to be, you didn’t know. Until they walked in through the door, stalled at the entrance, found just over two dozen pairs of eyes watching him and made his way to the desk to your right at the front of the classroom.

“Hi.”

Neither you or Logan had ever been this awkward.

“I didn’t know it was you I was…partnered with.” Logan blurted out.

“Xavier probably picked this last semester.” You replied.

Then you just looked at each other. This was the longest conversation you’d both held for six weeks.

“Here are the books you wanted.” The student you had sent out to the supply closet came fumbling back in through the doors carrying a high stack of exercise books. Rushing over, you took them from their arms.

“Thank you.”

Handing half to Logan, you started handing them out and the lesson began.

At first it was a little more than awkward but once things got settled, everything…started going back to normal.

Almost.

You and Logan were communicating with each other, and helping your students. But for a split second, every time you looked at him, you felt your mind wander back to the kiss and you felt a need to be near to him, close to him. But then the last six weeks crashed through your mind. No talking, no laughing, no late nights marking work and inevitably falling asleep.

No friendship. No relationship. No partnership.

Nothing.

Then your gut seemed to punch itself and your heart as you turned and looked at some other corner of the classroom.

Yet, once class was over, you found yourself and Logan talking. It felt unsteady, but at least it was something. Then he asked if you’d want to mark the essays written with him.

“Twice the people, half the work? Plus, we don’t have to run and find each other to check over the work later on.”

He made a reasonable request.

“Okay. But we’re getting food first. I’m starving.”

“I’ll make you grilled cheese. Scott did the cooking last night. You didn’t miss much.”

You groaned. “Not that bean casserole savoury thing again.”

“There’s leftovers in the fridge if you want them.”

With a grimace look, you shook your head. “No, no. Grilled cheese, grilled cheese, grilled cheese. Please.”

Logan laughed.

“If I have to even smell that unholy casserole again, I think I might actually puke. Who even allowed him back on the rota for cooking?”

Logan met you by the door. “Apparently he was getting suspicious over why he hadn’t cooked for so long.”

You followed Logan towards the kitchen. “I’ll tell him why. Because that dish is god-awful. It tastes crap, it’s got a weird texture. You spend more time trying to decipher what beans he’s used than you do actually eating the thing. It makes my skin crawl just thinking about it.”

Logan chuckled as you both entered the kitchen. “Then sit down and I’ll make you grilled cheese.”

“Thank you.”

As you started marking the first few books, Logan got to work making your dinner and before long he was sitting beside you, handing you your plate and he placed his own to the side before swiping some books from your pile.

For the most part, you both sat in silence eating your grilled cheeses, marking essays and deciphering between student’s handwriting.

Before either of you knew it, the night was drawing in and you found yourself half sleeping at the kitchen table.

“Come on,” Logan finally announced. “We can finish these tomorrow.”

After shutting his own books, he shut yours. Then, standing, he pulled out your chair and took your hand despite how much you protested you weren’t tired.

“That’s the fifth yawn in three minutes. Come with me, I’ll walk you up.”

And he did.

Both of you carrying your books in your arms up the stairs, Logan walked you to your door.

“I’m sorry.” Logan blurted out.

Slightly taken aback, you looked up. “Sorry about what-”

“I’m sorry if I took it too far…that night. And I’m sorry it’s been weird between us ever since. You were just trying to-”

“Logan, I kissed you.” You told him. “I should be the one that’s sorry. I didn’t give you any warning and I shouldn’t have even asked you to begin with. You’re my best friend, Logan. If I knew it would cause this,” you gestured between the pair of you. “Then I wouldn’t have done it. I care about you, Logan. A lot more than I care about getting caught by a cheating husband who’s soon-to-be-ex-wife hired me.”

After a moment, Logan let out a small laugh.

With an exasperated sigh, you finally found the courage to let his features become clear when you looked at him. “Can we just go back? To how they were before, at least? Before the awkwardness and the silence and the…everything. I miss you, Logan.”

With a light smile, Logan nodded. “I’ve missed you, too.”

It was like a weight off your chest. He was back. You and Logan were back.

Putting down your pile of books on the floor, Logan was quick to do the same before your arms wrapped around him. With his arms around you, for the first time in weeks, you felt home again.

His body heat warmed you in a way no blanket or hoodie ever could. The scent of him and his aftershave comforted you in now way your favourite candle could on a rainy day with nothing to do other than relax. The sound of his voice was more like music to your ears than any of your favourite songs were. The pressure from beneath his grip on both you and your heart made you feel more alive than anything else had ever done.

Logan was your home. Your true home.

Feeling your feet back on the ground once more, you let your arms slide down the length of Logan’s shoulders and arms, all the while you felt his own hands trace around your back until they found a safe space between your hips and waist.

With your heads still so close together, you could hear Logan’s breathing getting louder. Or maybe that was your own? When did he- it. When did it get so hot?

Kiss me, your heart told you. Kiss him, your gut said.

“L…Logan…”

Feeling his nose brush yours for an instant, Logan tried his best to control himself. He’d only just gotten you back. You might be the love of his life, but he didn’t want that to be the reason he lost you again.

“We shouldn’t do this.” He eventually forced out of himself.

But then you countered with a demand even he couldn’t refuse.

“Kiss me.”

Looking him in the eyes, you said it again.

“Kiss me-”

You didn’t get to finish your sentence because his hands were holding your face, kissing you as if it was his last moment on earth.

Walking you backwards a little until your back hit the wall of the small angle between your bedroom door and the hallway, you felt your heel kick over the pile of books on the floor, sending them falling from their neat stack to a heap on the floor.

Somehow everything you had imagined about being kissed by Logan again failed to meet the expectation of the real thing. Logan fit you. And you fitted him.

Despite your history, his lips against yours didn’t feel foreign or awkward or terrible at all. In fact, it was almost familiar. As if you’d been kissed by him your entire life. As if you’d kissed him in a past life. As if this would be the first of many.

Of course, it felt new and slightly surprising. But there was a comfort in being kissed by him. In having his hands be the one to touch your body in places it hadn’t before. In having your space be crowded by him and him alone.

Pushing against him a little, he allowed you leeway to do so. Your hand fumbled until you found your door handle and pushed it open. From behind him, Logan kicked it shut before he felt his back against it. But not for long.

Lifting you up and hearing a small squeal come from the back of your throat, Logan felt your legs around his hips as your back came against the door. Pressing into you, Logan smirked a little as he took your hands in his own, pinning them beside your head as he began to leave small love bites across your jaw and down your neck.

Slowly, he trailed his hands down your arms before they secured themselves under you to hold you up as he left another mark by your collar bone before you pulled his head back up so he could kiss you properly once again.

“Tell me where.”

“The bed. Now.”

With a slight laugh, Logan carried you over to the bed and dropped you by the edge. Scanning up his body and you smiled before pulling him in by the hem of his t-shirt until he was almost laying on top of you before you helped remove his shirt.

A few hours later, you both lay in each other's arms, talking and laughing together.

“We need to move the books.”

Logan pulled you back into bed, almost pinning you down with his body. “The books will be fine.”

“What if the students find them? What if someone thinks we’re in here together.”

“We are in here together.”

You scoffed a little as you tried to get up again, but to no avail. “You know what I mean.”

“Sweetheart, the books will still be there in a couple of hours. And no students come up onto this floor anyway.”

“Clearly you’ve never met Rogue.”

Logan laughed at that. “Fine, you can move the books.”

Quickly kissing him, you thanked him and escaped from his grasp. Rolling onto his back and placing an arm behind his head, Logan watched you tie a robe around your body before slowly opening up the door and bringing in the stack of books and placing them in the plastic box behind the door and snapping the lid shut.

You also locked the door behind you. Something you and Logan had forgotten to do the first two times around.

Not hiding the fact he was checking you out, Logan smiled as you walked over to him and repositioned himself to pull you across his lap. Sitting up, Logan looked at you in a way nobody had ever looked at you before.

Like you hung the moon and the stars.

Little did you know, you had the exact same expression on your face as you looked at him.

“You’re beautiful.”

“You’re not so bad yourself, Logan.”

Logan laughed a little, seeing the blush creep up on your face. “I mean it. You’re beautiful. Not only,” he kissed your lips. “Here. But also,” he pressed a kiss above your heart. “Here, too.”

Then he looked back into your eyes.

“I’m in love with you.”

A little shocked at first, your hands slid to the back of his neck and you studied his face for a moment. The expression never changed. His heartbeat was steady, even if a little faster than usual.

Then he watched as you stopped studying him and broke into a smile. “You’re in love with me?”

“I think I have been for a long time. I’m sorry it took so long for me to admit it-”

“I’m in love with you, too.”

Logan’s head tilted slightly as he smiled. “You are?”

You nodded and hummed a happy response. “I am.”

With a smile, Logan kissed you again, this time pushing himself to his knees and you towards your back. Smiling into the kiss, your hand linked behind his neck as you said his name in playful warning.

“What are you doing?” You almost laughed, looking at him as you got comfortable underneath him.

Still smiling at you, Logan’s hand trailed down your thigh that was hooked at his hip whilst his own lips came down to meet yours.

“Making up for lost time.”

Kissing you, your own hands roamed his body as one hand trailed across your skin and the other slowly unravelled the loose knot from around your middle, letting the light robe fall from your skin.

Something had definitely changed when you kissed Logan Howlett. But they had definitely changed for the better.

609 notes · View notes

jenscx · 11 months ago

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YOUR MAJESTY — jang wonyoung x f!reader

happily married, you assumed nothing would come between you and wonyoung. but everyone makes mistakes sometimes, right?

TAGS — angst, jealousy, princess!wonyoung, commoner!yn, wony’s lowk mean, aaa i feel bad for yn, pt.2 to my darling but you can read this without reading that

WORDCOUNT — 3.1k

marrying the princess was a dream. after being introduced to the emperor and empress, they immediately started preparations for your wedding. soon, wonyoung was to take over the throne and you would have to be by her side. the public were certainly shocked when wonyoung announced the lifelong partnership not to a duke or a noble, but a commoner. even now, curious gazes wander all over you, wondering what made you so attractive for the princess to reject other handsome and wealthy nobles.

after the wedding, wonyoung had been swarmed with work. being her partner, you had to take up some of the assignments as well. while wonyoung had to deal with external affairs such as relations with foreign countries, you were to deal with internal affairs— overseeing the public’s perspective of the royal family and making sure that all the funds were fairly dealt with.

at first it was tiring. you didn’t expect to be handed so much workload the moment you agreed to marry wonyoung. and it was even worse after wonyoung’s coronation. your princess had become her majesty and had to take care of everything concerning the empire. while you felt extremely proud of wonyoung’s ability to stay focused and finish tasks, a certain part of you felt lonely at the increasing distance between you and the empress.

even in your shared room, you spent countless nights waiting for wonyoung, only to be informed that once again, she was drowning in a sea of assignments and would be held up in her office. the first few times, you couldn’t control your emotions, disappointment wrecked your face and even the messenger, gaeul, one of wonyoung’s personal guards, had to comfort you.

the empty side of your bed always seemed to be mocking you. pristine silk sheets, never touched when you were around. it was like wonyoung was avoiding you. your face fell. wonyoung was avoiding you.

you turn your body away from the empty space reserved for wonyoung, squeezing your eyes shut to not imagine the empress staring at you coldly, unwilling to even share a bed with you.

hours had passed and you were still battling your uncertainty. what if she was really busy? wonyoung being newly crowned had launched her into a pile of work. despite training to become the new empress, she could easily be struggling with the workload. as her partner, shouldn’t you be taking the initiative to help her out? you got out of bed, throwing on a robe above your nightdress.

despite the late hour, the hallways were still brightly lit, probably by request of wonyoung who was burning the midnight oil. you remember the first time you and wonyoung had drank together. it was right after your wedding, wine being one of the biggest congratulatory gifts. with wonyoung’s invitation to test out every single one of the bottles, you had gotten extremely intoxicated, as well as the princess at that time. you recall the stumble back to your room, giggling and grasping onto any surface of the hallway.

sighing, you walk through the same hallway and headed for wonyoung’s office. with it being so late, there were no guards stationed outside. wonyoung’s personal guard was probably protecting the empress inside. there was a slight crack in the door, emitting light. you inched closer, hearing the passionate voice of the woman you loved. it was wrong to eavesdrop but when you had caught your name uttered in a hush whisper, your curiosity took over your moral compass.

“—and how can you leave your wife alone? a few weeks ago you could barely even leave her side, now all she does is live every day without your presence.”

“even if i love her with all my heart, i can’t deal with her bothering me every second. i just need time alone away from her.” your heart plummets. the sinking realisation that wonyoung was annoyed with you being around her hurt more than any stab wound could.

you had thought wonyoung was busy and therefore didn’t have any time for you, yet she was actively finding ways to avoid spending even a second with you. how could you be so naive to think she wouldn’t be bothered by your clingy nature? deciding to spare yourself the hurt, you slithered away from the door, not wanting to hear the rest of the conversation.

why would you? the empress had so clearly expressed her discomfort. you wouldn’t want to force her to endure any more burden. with a heavy heart, you lugged yourself to the first floor, through the many hallways and eventually arrived at the garden with connected the emperor and empress’ palaces, or in your case, wonyoung and yours.

normally the emperor’s consort would live in a room separate from the emperor, but wonyoung had put on such a cute facade with her big doe eyes and pout, begging you to reside in her palace instead. how could she change her behaviour so easily? you wondered. the walk to your unused bedroom was fleeting and like a robot, you dropped onto the bed, sheets barely touched, reminiscent of the side you constantly watched back in wonyoung’s room.

you couldn’t help but think of the past memories. wonyoung was so sweet and way more affectionate than you. now she was complaining about you being the same? you gritted your teeth, tears staining the pillowcase. for some reason, the bed felt colder than usual.

one thing was for certain, wonyoung was bewildered at your sudden distance. it was strange that when she finally headed to bed, you weren’t there wrapped in the duvet cover. it was even stranger that you barely spoke a word during breakfast, choosing to just hum or nod in acknowledgement.

the only time you spoke was to question the progress of the newest trading decree with the nearby kingdom. wonyoung’s patience was running thin. she could only stand a few more days of silent treatment before bringing it up.

“i noticed you weren’t in our bedroom last night,” or the previous nights, wonyoung wanted to add on. you pause, thinking of what to say in return.

“it felt stuffy,” you merely reply. wonyoung nods, “should i expect you to be in our bedroom tonight?”

“should i expect you in our bedroom?” you ask sharply, raising an eyebrow as you brought a piece of the cut strawberry into your mouth.

wonyoung parts her lips, shock invading her face, “what do you mean?”

you push yourself up from the table, “nothing. i’m done eating.”

the empress eyes you weirdly, deciding to stand up as well. she had to get to the bottom of your sudden strange behaviour.

“is something bothering you?” wonyoung reaches out a hand, attempting to grab yours, “you can tell me anything.”

you shift away from her, dodging her hand. hurt flashes across her face and you feel bad momentarily. but that moment of hurt couldn’t compare to what you felt that night. wonyoung sighs, “what’s going on?”

with pursed lips, you resisted the urge to blurt out what you had heard, choosing to stay silent, chin up in defiance.

“i don’t have all day, darling. a certain prince from a neighbouring land is visiting and demands an audience,” wonyoung frowns, “i do not know what time he's arriving, so i can’t humour you.”

you nod, “i don’t want to hold you back any longer then. have a good day, your majesty.”

it was obvious how much the title affected wonyoung, especially from you. when you had discovered her identity, it wasn’t easy for her to deal with that fact, thus you never called her by her proper title, choosing to stick to wonyoung or pet names.

she stood rooted to the ground as you left the dining room. what on earth were you playing at? the lack of curiosity when she had brought up conversation topics and your absence last night had made her question things. however, now she was certain something was wrong.

what made you change so quickly?

she decided firmly that no one would rest until her sweet and caring y/n returned to her side.

wonyoung was true to her word, always asking yujin and gaeul (her personal guards) to keep a close watch on you. they would bring back reports of you strolling in the garden, reading, but most of the time, you were holed up in your own office, probably dealing with some internal affairs. even during dinner you barely spoke. she brings a hand up to her forehead, thoroughly affected by your absence in her life. nothing had bothered her this much before.

groaning, she finally decides to pay you a visit. the piles of papers left undone. she was only going to take half an hour to visit you, maybe an hour to resolve the conflict you had. the decrees could wait. it wasn’t like she was getting much work done anyway.

“i’ll be back soon, just paying my lady a visit,” wonyoung informs her guards. yujin perks up, mouth agape, as if she wants to say something. wonyoung notices the heated exchange of gazes between the two but pay it no mind as she makes her way through the connected garden.

“your majesty! i think it would be better to not visit miss y/n now,” gaeul hurriedly says with yujin’s insistent nodding.

wonyoung grits her teeth.

“are you telling me what to do, gaeul?”

“i’m not saying this from a guard’s perspective but a friend’s,” she says, eyes darting to familiar curls of hair dancing in the garden, “you said that miss y/n was annoying you and now you’re upset that she isn’t paying you any attention? wait, isn’t that…”

“who allowed prince osaki to even be in the vicinity of y/n?” wonyoung brandishes a fiery gaze, jealous waves emitting off her as she struts towards you and your new acquaintance.

yujin and gaeul gulp, closely following behind wonyoung as she confronts the prince.

“good evening, prince osaki,” she hisses out, “why are you with y/n? aren’t you meant to be heading towards the meeting room now?” you eye wonyoung suspiciously. you didn’t know that the random young man who showed up in the garden was the prince wonyoung had mentioned! you’re shocked that he wasn’t even guarded by anyone.

“taro got lost, so i was guiding him,” you explain. looking at the reaction of wonyoung, your words only fuel the fire, ensuring the empress’ had a strong distaste for the young prince.

“taro,” wonyoung repeats. it repeats incessantly in her brain. she was demoted from wonyoung to her majesty and now some random prince shows up and he instantly gains your favour?

you nod, a blush rising to your cheeks when wonyoung stares at you intensely. shotaro bows politely, “my apologies, your majesty. i lost my way. this is an unfortunate way of meeting but i hope we can come to an agreement.”

your lover nods slowly, eyes raking all over you instead of shotaro. sensing that you were in trouble, you bow and quickly make your exit.

wonyoung sighs. she barely got a chance to speak to you and now she was definitely going to have to endure hours long of discussion. so much for talking to you.

(“why is she acting like this?” yujin asks gaeul.

“i mean, even if she finds miss y/n annoying—”

yujin groans, frustrated, “no, not her majesty! miss y/n! her behaviour changed so quickly, it’s like,” her eyes widen, “she heard her majesty’s conversation with us.”

gaeul blinks once. then twice. “her majesty is fucked.”)

after coming to an agreement with the prince, wonyoung was relieved of her duties. this time, there was no way you could run away from her. she had gaeul send you a message that you were to return to your shared bedroom tonight. she would head back to your bedroom early and finally have a proper discussion about your behaviour. wonyoung was hesitant to admit this but she missed you. she missed your constant appearances and visits to her office. she missed your incessant questioning about her day. she missed how much you would pay attention when she was talking. now, you barely even spared her a glance, choosing to pick at your food or stare out the window.

her knocks resounded on the door. a soft voice telling her to come in. she could do this. she wasn’t the empress for nothing.

“darling,” wonyoung greets. you nod at her, putting down the book you were reading.

“have you bathed yet?” she asks. once again, you respond by nodding. “okay, i’ll go bathe and join you in bed.”

she shouldn’t expect you to even reply verbally. it’s been so long since she had you whisper into her ear, confessing your affections. wonyoung slips into the tub, letting the warm water remind her of your embrace, one that she so dearly missed.

she should have felt happy that you weren’t visiting her so often. she should have felt happy that you didn’t bring sweet desserts to her office anymore. she should have felt happy that you stopped ranting about the newest duke who got exposed for cheating. but all she felt was emptiness. this was all her fault, you were only doing what she wanted.

her mind cleared of doubt, she finishes up quickly. you were sitting on the bed, reading the book you had previously put down. it's a reminiscence of the first time you had met wonyoung; in a quaint bookstore with rain pouring. now, you were in a four poster king-sized bed with gemstones and gold decorating the room. in some way, you missed your previous life. at least then wonyoung had paid some sort of attention to you.

the silence that was once filled with conversation is overwhelming. wonyoung takes a good look at you, noticing that you looked sullen, contrary to the cheerful persona you had before.

“y/n,” wonyoung starts. your eyes darted to her and suddenly, she forgets how to speak, “uhm, what were you doing with the prince?” your face falls but you mask it instantly, which wonyoung wouldn’t notice if she hadn’t spent hours constantly memorising every inch of you.

“just accompanying someone who was lost. i needed someone to talk to anyway,” you mutter. your response makes wonyoung heat up in anger. she had willingly offered a listening ear but you had denied her. was it so difficult for you to even talk to her about your worries? sure, you may be from different backgrounds but you should know that wonyoung would try her best to help.

“so i’m just the only person you can’t talk to?” wonyoung asks, unamused. you sigh, placing the book onto the nightstand. she takes this time to crawl into the empty spot next to you.

“that’s not it. i just… don’t want to be a bother to your majesty.”

her heart is suddenly wracked with guilt. your words remind her of that night, when she had confessed that you were annoying her. it was so familiar, and with your sudden behaviour…

“you heard me.”

you widen your eyes, turning away to hide the tears forming, “yes.”

“that’s the reason for your distance,” wonyoung confirms. you nod.

“i would have rathered you to tell me instead of letting me embarrass myself. i didn’t know you felt that way. i’m sorry for bothering you, your majesty,” you mumble, hands coming up to wipe the tears away. wonyoung only stares at you unwaveringly. it hurt her to see you like this, it hurt her more to know she was the reason behind your hidden pain. how could she behave in such a manner? she took your kindness for granted and hurt you.

“my darling,” wonyoung breathes, reaching out to turn your face towards her, “you shouldn’t be the one apologising. it should be me. i was just so focused with everything else that i forgot about the only thing that got me through this. it was wrong of me to ignore your actions of affection. please don’t hold back anymore, these few days without you were enough. it was torture. and don’t refer to me by my title, please.”

you sigh, “i don’t know, wonyoung. everytime i want to do something for you, i can only think about that night and how hurt i was.”

wonyoung swallows a lump in her throat as she feels her eyes brimming with tears. how could she make you feel as if you were annoying her? how could she say that about you? you were the best thing to happen to her and she didn’t even appreciate you. she had sworn that she would protect you for the rest of her life and it seemed the only thing harming you, was her.

“it’s fine,” it wasn’t for wonyoung, “i’ll give you all the time you need but let me make it up to you.”

“tell me you’re sorry,” you say firmly.

“i’m sorry.”

“tell me you regret saying those words.”

“i regret saying that you were bothering me. in no universe would you ever be a bother to me.”

“tell me that this will not ever happen again.”

“i would never do this ever again. not in this lifetime, nor the next. nothing you do would ever annoy me, because i truly love you. i missed you so much, my love. i swear that if i’m ever the reason for your tears again, i’ll beg for your forgiveness forever.”

you give another nonverbal response but the empress enjoyed this one much more than your blank stares and nods. she sighs contentedly, finally letting herself relax in your arms.

“i missed you too,” you utter in her ear, burying your head further into the crook of her neck. how long had it been since you embraced her? the flowery scent of her perfume seemed unfamiliar to you, yet it brought waves of delight that you finally had wonyoung again.

you would never admit it willingly but as soon as wonyoung’s arms were wrapped around your waist, cuddling you tightly as you both fell asleep, you were ready to forgive her.

it was the first of many nights where you didn’t have to receive the news of wonyoung not being able to spend time with you. it was the first of many nights that you didn’t dream of anything except a familiar empress with soft brown locks, full glossy lips and batting eyelashes.

it was the first of many mornings that you woke up to a bouquet of flowers on your nightstand, accompanied by a romantic handwritten letter.

to my darling y/n,

i have ordered the kitchen staff to not prepare breakfast for today as i will be attempting to do so for you. it will take some time for you to forgive me but i will be trying my best for your forgiveness. i hope you know how much i adore your visits and inquisitive nature. i cannot wait to spend the rest of my life with you. i love you dearly.

forever yours,

wonyoung

#jang wonyoung x reader #wonyoung x reader #ive x reader #ive

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ughdontbeboring · 9 months ago

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only you.

Thor x WoC reader

reader comes home a little tipsy and Thor has to remind her, she’s the ONE.

Warnings: Slightly smutty? Insecurities, Thor is that man. Reader is tipsy but she’s totally ok with her man dickin her down.

note: this is my big story back, I don’t think I’ve posted in like a year? not sure, also this is super rushed so not super proud but I had to get it out my head. Also there’s going to be an alternative version of this because I couldn’t decide how I wanted this to go. That will be posted in a week or 2. I have a hard time writing Thor idk way, he’s one of my favs but such a complex character I think. Also only one mention of readers complexion but can be read by anyone.

don’t give permission for my works to be used in any form. If you likes it reblog, share it, love it all that good shit.

⚡️

He watched her as she stumbled slightly in her high heels to where he laid in their bed. How she had managed a whole night out with Val, Natasha and the other women in those things he’d never understand. She made it look so effortless, the way her hips and loose hem of her mini dress swayed with every step she took. Women were definitely magical creatures. His heart thumped against his ribs a little harder as he watched his lovely little woman approach.

Even in the low lit room mostly covered in darkness he could make out every detail of her, maybe it had nothing to do with the ability to see as much as it did with the fact that he had memorized every part of her years ago.

She was wearing a brown chain mail dress as she called it, her hair down and loose, very little makeup and matching high heels. How Thor had allowed her to leave him without taking her on sight, he could only make sense in her power over him. What she promised when she returned to him that night if he allowed her to leave unscathed by his need.

She stood at the side of the bed with her arms cross her chest, a slight frown on her beautiful face as she stared down at him. Thor lay slightly sitting up against the reinforced headboard.

“What is wrong my love” He questioned up at her with genuine curiosity though he had a sneaky suspicion of what kind of mood she may be in. Even if she didn’t admit it, he was sure he knew what she’d need tonight.

“I-you-“ She started before being cut off by her own hiccup.

“Do you need water little one?”

“Yes, No! I- no listen” she started again before her voice drifted off and her eyes started to shift lower along his naked chest and torso before landing on the thin cool sheet that hardly did anything to cover his muscler thighs and slightly soft cock.

She bit back a moan as Thor watched her pretty thick brown thighs clench within arms reach of him. His stomach fluttered slightly at the scene before him and at the sweet scent that started to fill the room.

She seemed to focus on something she wanted to say to him before squaring her shoulders.

“Did-uh did you love that one uh barmaid on that planet..uh the..-“ she started determinedly as her buzzed mind would allow, her eyes rolling up as she tried to remember.

“No” Thor answered swiftly and honestly as he cut her off. He was so sure it almost made her angry at him and it annoyed her more because it’s not even something to be upset about she should be happy he seemed so sure but her tipsy mind wasn’t fully on track yet.

She sucked her teeth and rolled her eyes at him.

“Wait, you didn’t let me fisnish you-you don’t know which one-“

But Thor was quick as he pulled her over his lap and into the empty space next to him, his large body quickly finding his place between her soft thick thighs.

They both let a groan slip as their bodies came in contact. Thor’s bare cock between their bodies, laid snuggly against her panty covered cunt. The wet patch his veiny shaft rocked up and over making him groan.

“It does not matter, I’ve loved none of them” he spoke truthfully again without hesitation, one arm holding him up as his eyes followed the moment of his cock.

She felt like her world as spinning as she looked up at him. She knew she shouldn’t have but the mention of significant others, their ex’s and flings left her mind to wonder too much about Thor’s long life. It was something she really never let herself focus on in the few years they’d been together. But even the girls night out and plenty of shots couldn’t shake her mind from Thor’s earlier comment in front of everyone, about a planet so bizarre, it led to the new information of a one night stand.

“Not even, not even, that one Loki said uh the” she tried. Remembering when she first met Loki, he had tested her by trying to rile her up with talk of Thor’s past lovers. Only to apologize shortly after when he realized for himself she was the one, the only one for his brother. But now that information did nothing for her jealousy.

“No” was Thor’s firm answer as his body slowly rocked into hers harder. His deep eyes raking over her. She looked like a vision. Her hair all around her surrounding her head like an halo, breast basically coming out of her dress from the lack of a bra. Her chest heaving. She was an Angel, Thor was sure the only one in all the universe and she was his.

“Thor! You’re not letting me finish!” She kicked her feet very childishly causing Thor to bite his lip to stop from laughing as he stared down at her. Nothing but amusement and love in this bright blue and brown eyes. “Ok the one from-“

“No. No. No and no, little dove the answer to that question will always be no” he said cutting her off again.

His large hand grips her face, as the other continued to hold himself above her, as she stares up at him completely doe eyed and utterly in love despite her little outburst. He loved her all ways but this way, so open and so needy was one of his favorites, his cock twitched and thicken at the sight and feel of having her fully willing for anything he’d do beneath him.

“Little queen, it matters not who you mention, who anyone could mention from over the centuries of my life. I have loved none of them, even when I thought it could be love you’ve came into my life and shown me how foolish of a God I was to ever consider that love” he spoke truthfully.

The tears swelled in her eyes as she took him in, her fingers dancing all over his face before tracing her thumb along his bottom lip before he started to speak again.

“Because in all these centuries, in all the galaxies, in all the universe I have ever only loved you, I could never have loved another, not when your love exist and even in death it could not fade”

“Thor-“ she sobbed lightly.

“Shhh little queen, I know, let me remind you there is only you for me, there is only we” Thor spoke against her fingertips, before sucking her thumb softly into his wet mouth and rolling his hips into her. She moaned at the contact of skin to skin, she hadn’t even notice Thor rip her thong, his veiny cock pushing up along her bare wet cunt.

“I am yours completely” Thor said before he swiftly buried his thick cock in her til the hilt, her eyes rolled back as her loud gasped filled the quiet room.

#thor #thor odinson #ughwrites #Ughthor #thor odinson fanfiction #thor odinson imagine #thor odinson smut #thor odinson x reader #thor odinson x y/n #thor odinson x you #thor x reader #thor smut #thor odison imagine #Chris hemsworth #chris hemsworth fanfiction #chris hemsworth x you #chris hemsworth x reader

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vivwritesfics · 7 months ago

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Hold Me Close

okay so i've been in this situation, but it played out very differently. I just want to in some way experience it in a nicer way than i actually did.

She doesn't want a baby. Spencer comforts her through a pregnancy scare

When he was younger, Spencer Reid hadn't wanted kids. His own childhood hadn't been the best (not through the faults of his mother, Spencer loved her more than anything in the world), and he wasn't confident in his ability to look after a child.

But then JJ had Henry. Spencer had been, admittedly, freaked out by her pregnancy. But then he met Henry, the sweetest little bundle of flesh out there.

And then JJ had Michael and Morgan had his child. Spencer really could see himself coming around to the idea.

The only problem was finding somebody, somebody he loved, somebody he wanted to have a child with.

Spencer never expected to meet her after his stint in prison. He was damn near forty. And she was significantly younger, only in her twenties. Spencer had resisted. for the longest time he had resisted. But she wanted him just as much as he wanted her.

It didn't take long for them to collide, lips and tongue and teeth clashing together in a way the others didn't expect from their resident genius.

Spencer was full of regret after the first time. He remembered being her age, remembered all of the things he'd gone through at that age. And, to him, that was a lifetime ago. He'd completed countless cases, saved countless lives.

But she was patient with him. She stayed by his side, she took care of him in a way Spencer hadn't expected. It was hard not to fall in love.

Spencer knew she was young, knew that, where he might have been ready for a child, there was a chance she wasn't after a year together, after a year of being careful when they had sex, a year of wearing condoms and taking birth control, they had their first pregnancy scare.

She hadn't felt right for weeks, tried to convince herself it was just a stomach bug. But there was that feeling in the back of her mind, the one that told her she needed to take a test.

So, while she was cuddled up against Spencer, hands clutching her stomach as he read, she looked up at him. "Spence," she squeaked, and he tightened his arm around her.

The way she asked him to walk to the store with her, he'd never heard her sound so vulnerable before. Spencer couldn't say no to her if he tried. He held her hand the entire time, as they picked up the box of tests, as he paid for them.

And as soon took one, as she peed on the stick and set it down, he waited with her. She sat on the closed toilet lid and Spencer sat on the edge of the bathtub.

He couldn't help but watch the way she she hugged herself, eyes cast downwards as she waited for the results.

"C'mere," Spencer whispered and opened his arms.

Immediately she sat beside him and tucked herself into his side. "I'm sorry," she said as fat tears rolled down her cheeks.

Spencer kissed the top of her head. "You have nothing to he sorry about," he whispered, lips still against her hair. "What... what do you want to do if it's positive?"

It wasn't something they'd discussed before. Spencer knew he was ready for children, but she was so much younger, and she hadn't spoken to him about it before.

She shook her head, eyes squeezed shut as she buried her face against his chest. "I can't, Spencer," she cried. "I can't keep it."

"Okay," he said and rubbed her back soothingly.

After the seven minutes they checked the test. Negative. She was so happy she could have cried. "Thank God," she whispered and threw the negative test away.

It had taken it all out of her. With a hand on the small of her back, Spencer guided her back to the bed. He held her until she fell asleep, reading to her.

#spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #matthew gray gubler

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loving-barnes · 10 months ago

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LOGAN HOWLETT - 'HELL'

A/N: And here I am, still writing and I am here for it. I am actually trying a lot here.

Pairing: Logan Howlett x mutant female reader

Warning: mentions of blood and torture

Summary: Y/N shares how she escaped 'hell'.

Please, do not read if you are under 18. This story includes mentions of abuse.

Words: 4300+

Important note: Again, Logan is a tall MF, because they fucked up in the movies. Also, Hugh Jackman!Wolverine.

A TOUCH OF HOPE MASTERLIST | Chapter One

LOGAN HOWLETT - 'HELL'

Y/N was lying on the grass, enjoying the warm sunlight rays. Her right hand was in the air as she tried to make the force come out in a ball-shaped form. She finally made some progress.

Charles helped her train in his office. He aimed to teach her to make a protective shield around another person. Two weeks in, she made some progress. But the goal was still far away. On the other hand, she did learn something new.

The ball-shaped forcefields were bewitching. Y/N could admire her power up close. It was a thin blue layer of radiant energy with a hint of silver sparkles. Beautiful. She hoped to get better and become useful. Now, she had the chance after all those years. It brought tears to her eyes for many reasons.

If only I could get you out.

The nightmares appeared every night. They changed, playing twisted games in her sleep. It was hard to close her eyes. Her past, her present, it all got mixed. They were suffocating her. And his face kept coming back to her.

“How’s it going with her training?” Hank asked the Professor. He was standing at the window, watching Y/N in the distance from the office.

Some of the teachers, the X-Men, were present, discussing the newest addition. The last one who entered the conversation was Logan, smoking his cigar. One look from the Professor, and he extinguished it against his palm. He gritted his teeth when he felt the burning sensation on his palm.

“She’s making progress,” said Charles with a smile. “We still have a lot of work to do.”

Storm walked to a window, watching the kids enjoy the sunny afternoon outside. And there, far away, she noticed Y/N practising her little forcefields. “Her ability is convenient, powerful. She would be great on missions.”

“That is the plan. I want Y/N to be able to protect other people, too. She can create the forcefield around herself and in smaller forms. It might take us more time before she reaches her goal,” said Charles.

“I don’t like her,” Scott confessed to them. “There’s something off about her.” Everyone’s eyes were on him.

“What, that she doesn’t want to let anyone in because she doesn’t trust easily?” Storm glared at her friend.

“She’s not telling us something.”

“Would you tell your life story to a group of strangers you know for two weeks?” Kitty added. “If there is something off about her, the Professor would tell us.”

Charles sighed and turned to his friends. “There is something I need you all to know.”

“He, there it is,” Scott grinned.

That single sentence got everyone’s attention. Charles wheeled into the middle of the room, eyes looking at every person present. Logan frowned. Storm was intrigued, and others kept their faces neutral.

“Years ago, when I had been searching for more mutants, I managed to find Y/N. At that time, she was a teen who happened to discover her mutation. The plan was to bring her here. I wanted to send Hank to get her.”

“Why didn’t you?” Logan asked.

The Professor sighed. “She kept slipping off.”

“What do you mean?” Jean asked, confused.

“When I wanted to find her location, she was nowhere to be found. Not as a mutant or a human,” Charles explained. “I thought she died. And then, months later, I stumbled upon her again. As I tried to reach her, she slipped again.”

“Oh, right,” Hank said. “I remember you thought there was something wrong with Cerebro.”

“The Cerebro was fine. Until this day, I have no idea how it kept happening.”

“So, she’s a telepath?” Bobby asked.

Charles shook his head. “There was a time when I believed she was. It would make perfect sense. Only strong telepaths can shut their minds. That would explain why I couldn’t reach her.”

“So, when you saw her the first time since Logan brought her, you knew who she was. You didn’t need to read her mind?” Storm chimed in. Her eyes kept staring at the Professor.

“That is true. However,” Charles turned to face Logan. “The fact that you found her was a mere coincidence. You two happened to be in the right place at the right time.”

He didn’t comment on it, only shook his head in disbelief. “Is that all, Charles? Or is there more to this story?” He suspected that the Professor wasn’t telling them the whole truth.

“This is all you need to know, now.”

Groans echoed around the office. That answer didn’t bring enough satisfaction. What was he not telling them? Logan was ready to push his buttons. He needed to know more. Everyone deserved the truth. With a sigh, he stood back. “Why so mysterious?”

“I will tell you more once I have more answers,” said Charles calmly. “For now, all we need to do is to help her train. She wants to be better. She suffered enough, and she wants to turn her life upside down.”

“She asked you not to read her mind,” Jean raised a brow.

“I don’t need to read her mind. We talk a lot when I teach her. I promised not to look in. When I met her, it all came screaming at me. All you need to know is I trust her.”

Scott scoffed and shook his head in disbelief. “That’s it?”

The meeting ended shortly after that. Everyone dispersed around the school. Logan’s legs brought him outside, his eyes quickly finding the young woman far away, resting on the grass.

For the last two weeks, he didn’t talk to her much or see her for that matter. He observed from afar. Logan noticed how she started to open up to some of his friends. She tried to get to know each member of the school. Storm, Kitty and Rogue spent most of their time with her. With them, she was able to laugh freely and smile. Damn, that smile. He wanted to see it more.

He frowned. Why did he think that?

He saved her ass, and now she felt like a magnet. He tried to resist, but it was hard. Would it be that bad to know her more? He brought her here, where he promised she’d be safe. And from what he had learnt, Charles knew about her existence for a long time.

Sighing, he moved forward. He took out the cigar that he hadn’t finished and smoked on his way to her. His eyes lingered on her body, eyeing her from head to toe. Compared to their first unexpected meeting, she seemed relaxed and happy. The bruises were gone. Only faint scratch marks remained.

Her hand was still in the air, creating small forcefields. The need to talk to her got stronger. As if she were a water that would extinguish Logan’s thirst. Fuck, he wanted to know her more.

“Hey, kid. How’s the trainin’ going?” he asked when he was close enough for her to hear him.

Y/N turned her head to the side, eyes locking with his. “It’s fine, I guess,” she said with a fleeting smile. “I am trying to figure out how to make a forcefield around another person,” she explained.

“Any luck?” he leaned against the nearest tree. He held the cigar with his fingers.

“No,” she sat up. “I got better at creating it in the shape of a ball. It still does glitch. But it’s a step forward. If only I knew how to project it around another person.”

“It cannot be that hard,” he raised a brow. “It looks so easy.”

She laughed at that. “If only. It requires a lot of concentration and energy. I can protect a person if they are next to me. I can wrap us into the forcefield. That’s about it.”

A gentle smile appeared on Logan’s face. “Like you did when I took you out of that dive bar.”

Her eyes widen. “Oh yeah,” she nodded. “I forgot about that. It was wild. I remember fragments of that day. Shit, the last days before you brought me here are kind of hazy.” She stood up from the grass and wiped off her lower back and ass.

Logan’s eyes followed her every move. “Wanna walk with me?” the question was out before he could think about it. Even he was surprised he had asked that.

“Sure,” she nodded. “I wanted to explore the estate a little more.”

Side by side, they walked away from the school and the noise. The estate reminded her of a gigantic park filled with trees, surrounded by nature and peace. She noticed there were well-trodden pathways. The students must have walked around the place many times.

“How did you get to that bar anyway?” he had to ask.

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I kept walking until my feet brought me there. All I knew was to get as far away as possible.”

He took a deep breath. “What happened to you?”

Y/N bit her lower lip and looked somewhere away. “Um,” she hesitated. Was it wise to share it already? “I escaped a lab. I was a guinea pig for five years,” she admitted.

“What?” It was hard to believe what she said. Why was he so surprised? He had his suspicion about this before.

“Yeah,” her eyes were focused on the ground, ashamed of the story. “I’m surprised they didn’t kill me. Five years to keep a mutant for an experiment is a long time. Before you ask, I have no idea how I managed to survive the torture and imprisonment for that long. Those years are a blur.”

“Shit,” he sighed. “Sounds like a hell of a life.”

Y/N lifted her head, scanning Logan’s face. “The Professor didn’t say anything to you?” When he shook his head, she was impressed. “And here I thought you would already know about everything.”

“It’s your story to tell, Y/N. It’s up to you if you want to share it with us,” said Logan.

Out of nowhere, she started to giggle. Logan didn’t understand what was funny. “You know, you don’t seem that kind of a guy who does this a lot. But it’s nice.”

“Shut up,” he rolled his eyes. He took another drag of the cigar. And Y/N laughed a little more. “When did you discover your mutation?”

The smile disappeared. “I was around fifteen when it happened,” Y/N replied. “And it started a life full of misery and darkness.” One of her hands reached for a tree, mapping its texture with her fingertips. After all those years locked up in a lab, she never thought she would feel nature under her hands again.

Logan didn’t question further. He noticed it was a heavy topic for her. She wasn’t ready to give him the details. Somehow, Logan felt he was the only person, except Charles, who got information about her past.

“What is your mutation?” It was her turn to ask questions. She wanted to know more about Logan. Even though his rough exterior told the story of a withdrawn, grumpy man, he had the softest eyes. Were they green? They seemed like it.

They stopped walking. Logan turned to her and brought his hand to his chest. When he closed it, three metal blades slid out of his skin.

Y/N’s mouth opened. “Shit,” she cursed. “Does it hurt?”

“Every time. I’m used to it by now,” Logan said. “They are made of adamantium.”

“Adamantium?”

“One of the strongest metals on Earth.”

Her fingers reached to the claws. Logan’s eyes followed her moves. She wanted to touch them. Before she could, she put her hand away. “Sorry, it’s just fascinating.”

Logan’s heart skipped a beat. “Well, that’s a first,” he commented. “No one said anything like that before.”

“I’m sorry,” she took a step back. “I didn’t want to overstep. Never had much opportunity to admire other mutations.”

“It’s fine.” The claws retracted into his skin. Y/N’s eyes noticed the wounds instantly close and disappear. Her hands quickly reached for his hand, fingers caressing the spots where the lesions would be.

Logan couldn’t believe what he had witnessed. It’s been a while since he felt such a gentle touch on his skin. Her hands were soft and delicate. He cleared his throat. “I heal quickly. In a matter of seconds,” he explained before she could ask.

Her eyes lingered on his hand until she realised what she was doing. “Oh, sorry,” she let him go and hid her hands behind her back. “That was rude. I am so sorry.”

She made him feel things he hadn’t experienced in a long time. It made him flustered. “That’s okay, kid.”

The intense moment ended, and they moved forward. Y/N’s face was burning hot, embarrassed by what she did. Her mind focused on the trees and the pleasant weather around them. The air was warm even though it was autumn. The leaves were sparkling with a range of colours, coming from green to yellow. Some of them were red. It was her favourite season of the year.

“I’ve heard you save mutant children,” she changed the topic as they approached the school grounds.

“Charles finds them, and some of us would collect them,” he explained. “I was on a mission to get a child that needed our help. Unfortunately, it was a failure. The facility was a trap. I was glad I got out. Later that night, I stumbled upon you.”

Y/N pressed a hand against her chest. “What facility?”

“The one hidden in Salem,” he replied. “Why?”

Y/N felt as if her soul left her body. All colour drained from her face. “Oh god,” she brushed her fingers into her hair. “It’s my fault,” and then she hid her face in her palms.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he turned his body to her. “What are you sayin’ there, kid?”

It took her three deep breaths to look him in the eye. He wasn’t angry. It looked like he was concerned. “I was locked there, in the lab, for some time. I escaped a few days before we met.” Panic bubbled inside of her. “I know who you were looking for. I know the kid.”

That night, that moment, it all came rushing back. It was like a movie, reflecting in front of her eyes. She felt it all: the pain, the horror happening in front of her eyes. She knew the child. He helped her escape. And she couldn’t take him with her. His screams echoed inside her mind.

Logan gripped her shoulders. “Y/N, look at me.” He said her name for the first time. That did the trick, and she looked up, eyes meeting his. “There you go. Take a deep breath.” He could see she was listening.

“I have to tell you what happened,” she whispered. “You need to know. It’s my fault you went to a trap.”

Logan brought her inside the school. His hands rested on her shoulders as he walked with her through the hallway. When something happened, all the teachers would gather around immediately. Professor X would call them to his office.

He helped Y/N take a seat on an armchair. A bottle of water appeared in front of her. It was levitating in the air. It was Jean’s doing.

“What’s going on?” Hank was the last one coming inside, closing the door behind him. He had a white lab coat on him, and his glasses were on the tip of his nose.

“This better be good,” Scott scoffed. His hands were wrapped around Jean’s shoulders, holding her close.

“Stop being a dick, dude,” Remy scowled. “Keep your mind shut.”

Y/N glared at Scott. He was the only person who didn’t sit right with her. That’s why, most of the time, she would ignore him. Luckily, he was sweet to Jean.

She grabbed the floating water bottle and took a sip. “Logan told me about the failed mission,” Y/N started to talk. Her voice was low and timid. “He told me he went there to get out a child. He went to a facility that was in Salem - the same place where they held me.”

Charles tilted his head, listening carefully. His face remained neutral. No one could read what he thought.

“I know the kid,” she told them. “His whole body can stretch as he wishes.”

“Elasticity,” Hank stated.

“How did you escape?” Kitty’s voice interrupted the stream of Y/N’s thoughts.

“There were five of us locked in that lab. We were in cells designed to suppress our mutations. It made sure we wouldn’t harm anyone or try to escape. That changed when they brought in JJ.”

“JJ?” Logan questioned that name.

“Jerome Junior,” she explained. “For an eleven-year-old, he was cunning. Because he was the youngest, he had the most energy. The rest of us were barely holding on.

“Never underestimate a child. That’s the greatest advice I’ve learnt in there. I don’t know what happened or how he did it, but the doors to our cells opened. Somehow, he was able to get us out. That’s when hell on Earth started. To get out, we destroyed the place.”

Y/N could feel the smell of chemicals and fire around her. As if she was back there, trying to get out of prison.

The pain in her body was excruciating. After all those years of experiments and torture, she was almost free.

There were bodies on the floor - killed guards and scientists as well as two other mutants who shared the hell with her. They got them before she could put a forcefield out to protect them. So much blood was on her hands and face. When she looked down, there were red puddles. The smell was nauseating.

“Let’s go,” one of the mutants shouted. The man was bleeding from his thigh and arm.

“Where’s JJ?” Y/N asked, looking for the kid. She lost him during the fight. “I’m not leaving him here.”

“We don’t have time to get the kid. They’ll kill us if we don’t leave!”

She was turning around, trying to find a way to get to him. “I said I am not leaving!”

“Fuck this, I’m out,” said the mutant and fled the scene without anyone else.

Limping, Y/N ran out of the destroyed lab and walked through the hallways until she found a swarm of guards holding the child. Guns pressed against the boy’s head as they put a collar on his neck. It beeped once, and a tiny light turned green.

JJ’s eyes found Y/N standing on the other side of the room. He did one last thing before they packed him into a truck - he shook his head. It was a sign for her to leave. Her vision blurred as tears hit her eyes. The boy got them out, and she couldn’t save him.

“I tried to get him, save him, but they took him away,” her voice broke. She let the tears fall. “He was eleven, for fuck’s sake. He somehow got us out. I wanted to do the same thing for him, and I couldn’t.”

“How do you know it was him?” Jean asked.

Y/N thought back, trying to get to the point when she realised he opened the cells. “I remember him stretching his fingers. He must have found a trigger on the table that opened the doors.”

Ororo reached for her hand, squeezing it tightly. “You did your best. You tried.”

“It’s not enough,” she shook her head. “Even now, I feel like a traitor.” The story was not over. “When I left the building, I wandered for a few days,” she continued. “I got some old clothes and hid everywhere - in the woods, old buildings. Without energy, I happened to injure myself more. I even took a fall before I found the dive bar. My body was in pain, my head a mess, and I don’t remember much when Logan got me out.”

Silence spread around them. They all let the information sink in.

“When I came to the facility,” Logan started to talk. The attention was on him. “Many soldiers were guarding the place like their own eyes. They were ready to kill anyone who approached the building. I managed to get in but never got far away,” said Logan. “The place was a mess. As if a bomb exploded inside.”

“It doesn’t make sense,” Kitty spoke up. “Why would they keep the place highly secured if it got damaged and took the child away? Think about it. Maybe they’ll use it as a cover-up. No one would think that the lab was still active.”

“Kitty’s right,” said Bobby. “In the end, there are only two options. Either they did take him away, or he’s there, well hidden from the world.”

“They did it to evoke confusion,” Jean added to the conversation.

“Scott, Jean, try to find as much information as possible about the facility in Salem. We’ll be better prepared to take him out of there,” Charles gave instructions.

Y/N jumped on her feet, letting the water bottle drop on the floor. “I’ll go with you.” All eyes were back on her.”I have to get him out.”

“You need to train more,” said Scott strictly. His hands fell off Jean. “You’ve been here for what two weeks? Forget about it. You’re not going on this mission.”

“Mind your tone, Scotty,” Logan warned him with a snarl.

“She doesn’t know how to fight or use her ability. She’s a newbie, a trainee. I will not put anyone’s life in danger because of her,” he pushed himself from Jean and approached Y/N. “If we go to get the boy, she’s staying here. Period.”

Logan was close behind Y/N, ready to step in. But she stood her ground, not afraid of the Cyclops.

Jean reached for Scott’s shoulder. “That’s enough, Scott.”

Y/N approached Scott with one long step, glaring at him. “I survived a lot of things in my life. You don’t know what I am capable of, so don’t underestimate me, Cyclops. And don’t be a dick. I’ve never been rude to you, never did anything to you. So don’t raise your voice at me. I am not afraid of you.”

“Oh yeah?” he challenged her. “You better start talking about your past life then. We know nothing about you.”

Her fists clenched hard until her knuckles were white. There was a lot of anger building inside of her. And it showed. The forcefield started to glitch around her.

“You can’t even control your power, Y/N,” Scott mocked her. “Look what you are doing.”

“Y/N, please, calm down,” said Charles calmly. “Same goes for you, Scott.”

She closed her eyes and took a step back, relaxing her posture. She knew better than to get riled up. When her blood pressure lowered, she looked at Scott again, shaking her head in disbelief. What a dick!

Turning on her heel, Y/N left the office without another word. Her walk was brisk, taking long steps to be outside as soon as possible. Of course, there would be a person who would make her freedom difficult.

I will get you out.

She wrapped her arms around herself and walked through the driveway to the estate’s main gate. She didn’t want to leave. She needed to walk and think.

Y/N wanted to get little JJ out of that hellhole before it was too late. Fear crawled through her back, tapping on her head. What if they kill him before they get there? He saved her life. He helped her escape. It’s her turn to return the favour and secure him a better life here in a school for mutants.

There was another thing that drove her to save the boy. But she didn’t want to open that door. After all those years, it was painful to think about it.

Fucking bitch! How could you?! Cries were echoing in her mind. Psycho! Murderer!

“Y/N,” she heard Logan’s voice behind her. That made her halt and sigh. “You okay?”

She pressed the bridge of her nose. “Yes,” she said.

“You are full of shit, ya know that?” he laughed. “Just admit that you are pissed.”

She spun around. Her eyes could kill. “I’ll get JJ with or without help. I don’t give a shit what you say. I will be the one who will get him out of that place.”

“I know,” Logan nodded, understanding. “I won’t be the one who’ll stop you. If I were you, I’d do the same thing. And I would punch Scott in the face.”

She couldn’t help but giggle. “You have your way with words, Logan.”

“I was thinking about becoming a motivational speaker,” he shrugged and smiled at her when he made her laugh again. “Bobby was right. We only have two options, and we must prepare before we leave to get the kid. I was there. I saw how many guards were securing the facility. One or two people won’t do it. We need a strategy.”

“All I want is to help, get him out of there so he can have a better life than I ever had. I don’t want him to experience that much torture. I need…” she started to choke on words. “I need…” Tears escaped her eyes as she felt the pain inside her soul. Was this a panic attack? Her heart was beating fast. The world was crumbling down.

Logan was quick enough to close the distance. His hands found her shoulders. “We will get him out. You hear me, bub? I can’t tell you when. We must prepare for the mission and gather information. We won’t make it far without a strategy.”

She gripped his flannel shirt tightly, holding for dear life. “I worry he’ll be dead.”

He shook his head. “You said he was cunning. He’ll find a way to survive.” Without thinking, he pressed her body against his, holding her. “While we are planning, you’ll be training your power and how to fight.”

She closed her teary eyes. As much as the hug was unexpected, it was comforting. “Promise me I’ll go with you.”

Logan nodded twice. “I promise.”

#Logan Howlett x female reader #Logan Howlett x reader #Wolverine x reader #Wolverine x female reader #James Logan Howlett x reader #Logan Howlett x female mutant reader #A touch of hope #Marvel fanfiction #Wolverine fanfiction

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uglypastels · 3 months ago

Note

Okay, ya bean had a nightmare and then read a couple of your Logan fics again cause comfort. And I had an idea:

Reader has a nightmare and they wake up to Logan holding them and telling them they’re alright and he has them and the reader sees they hurt Logan but he’s healing and holding them and is soft and comforting and telling them it’s alright he heals and he’s had his fair share of claws out nightmares that readers helped him through.

Just soft Logan comforting his person like they do when he has hard times. Makes the heart warm and fuzzy.

I'm so sorry to hear about your nightmare hun but I'm glad that I (or at least my fics) could help ♥ hopefully this one can bring out a similar reaction.

warnings: slight angst but mostly fluffy comforting. nightmares. mention of wounds. reader has unspecified mutant abilities.

~ X-Men requests Open ~ Masterlist ~

It wasn’t the actual nightmare that woke you up or your own scream, but his. A wrung-out groan of pain that startled you out of your night terrors. Your cheeks had already been covered in a sheer layer of drying tears, but as you made his shape out in the dark room, more started to spill down your face.

‘Hey, shhh, it’s okay.’ Logan leaned across the bed to you, but you moved back, too aware of what you had done, not that he was having any of this. ‘No, it’s okay, Princess. C’mhere.’ It was hard to do anything against the strength his arms presented as he pulled you into a warm embrace.

‘I’m sorry,’ You sniffled out against his chest.

‘Don’t worry about it,’ he said hushed. One of his hands cupped your cheek, ensuring you kept your head where it was. You closed your eyes, letting the tears that escaped fall while focusing on his heartbeat. The steadiness of it certainly calmed you down.

‘Where did I—’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ he didn’t even let you ask about where you had struck him. ‘It’s all gone now.’ He kissed the top of your head, and you knew he was right. Whatever marks you had left had surely already healed, but it didn’t stop you from feeling guilty.

‘I’m sorry,’ you mumbled against him.

‘I know. It’s alright.’ For the next few moments, neither of you said anything; you just pulled each other closer in the embrace. Then Logan spoke up again as he wiped some hair from your face. ‘Another nightmare?’

‘Yeah,’ was all you could reply with, feeling tired of how often you had found yourself in this scenario the last few weeks. It had started to feel as if he had to take care of you on an almost nightly occurrence as the dreams had been getting worse and worse.

‘Wanna talk about it?’

You just shook your head no against him.

‘Wanna go back to sleep?’

Again, you responded to his question in the same, slightly childish manner, making him chuckle.

‘Alright, bub.’ Maybe it was the way you were so quiet, but he could tell there was something on your mind you weren’t letting him in on. ‘What is it?’

‘I don’t want to hurt you,’ you let yourself look at his face.

‘You could never hurt me, Princess.’ His thumb pressed lightly across your cheek. The minimum light from outside hit just right, so you could see it reflect in his eyes. You could see the sadness in them.

‘But I–’

‘I’m telling you, you can’t.’ He expressed it like the most matter of fact, like you had not, just moments ago, woken both of you up by unconsciously attacking him in your sleep. But somehow, the way he said it made you believe it. At least that he meant it.

‘I just…’ you sighed, trying not to overthink the images that had flashed before you in your sleep, ‘I keep having these dreams and you and— everyone I know really— everyone is in pain and agony, and it’s all because of me, and I feel so helpless.’

‘I know.’ And he would be the one person to know what you mean, having had his fair share of bad dreams. He had told you how bad they used to get as they had occurred before you had met, but even now he would still wake up in a cold sweat. ‘But remember, it’s just a dream. Everyone is okay. We’re okay.’

the end

thank you for reading 💗

if you enjoyed the fic, please consider reblogging and leaving a comment. or send a message via my inbox. requests are also more than welcome. 💗

#logan howlett #logan howlett fanfiction #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #wolverine fanfiction #logan howlett x reader #x-men fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #angst #fluff #imagine #request #logan howlett fanfic #wolverine #wolverine fanfic #x men #x men fanfiction

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farfromstrange · 2 months ago

Text

Fictober Day 3: Getting a Pet

Fictober Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Prompt: Finding a pet/Getting a pet (it was originally finding a pet, but I changed things up a bit)

Summary: You think it's time for you and Matt to get a cat.

Warnings: Fluff. Established relationship. Cats. Mentions of future children.

Word Count: 2k

A/n: This is solely based on me wanting a cat. I did have a different version of this already written, decided I didn't like it, and whipped this up in, like, two hours today. I hope you're not mad at me, but the first draft really wasn't it, so I decided to interpret the prompt differently/change it.

Read Me On AO3!

It’s been three years since Matt Murdock stumbled into your life, broken and bruised. A normal person would have run if they had seen The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen knock at their window, but not you. You invited him in and fixed him to the best of your abilities.

Three years ago, you met the man you fell head over heels in love with. The man who broke your heart then put it back together. The man who once believed he would never love again, that he didn’t deserve it, finally allowed himself to find some peace in your arms. Comfort. Love.

You moved in together two years ago, and you haven’t looked back since. In fact, you only seem to be moving forward.

Since he’s been with you, he has been using you as an excuse to Foggy and Karen for why he doesn’t need a dog. He thought he would never have to worry about getting a pet ever again. Until a week ago.

You were sitting on the couch, head resting on his chest to listen to the steady beating of his heart, when you suddenly blurted out, “I think we should get a cat.”

Suddenly, Matt didn’t have to worry about telling people why he didn’t need a dog anymore, but he had to face you, the love of his life, and talk to you about getting a cat.

Up to that point, you hadn’t often seen him too stunned to speak, and the times you had, he was facing a greater evil—a greater evil than a cat.

“What?” you remember him asking.

You nodded against his chest. “Dead serious,” you said, lifting your head to look up at him. You had that determined look on your face, the one that always made Matt’s defenses crumble like wet paper. He could feel it as he brushed his fingers over your soft skin, trying to gauge what you were thinking.

“I’ve always wanted one,” you continued your reasoning, “and I think we’re ready. You know… for a fur baby.”

Because the idea of a baby was and still is very far in the future.

Matt could feel the excitement radiating off of you that night, and though he had never imagined himself as a cat person, there was no denying he was wrapped around your finger. “You really want a cat?” he asked.

“I do,” you answered, with an almost childlike excitement.

“I just… are you sure?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well, it’s a cat,” he emphasized.

“Your point being?”

“They’re… stealthy. And needy, sometimes.” That was the only argument he could come up with.

You snorted at that. “So, they’re you,” you said, “just… smaller.”

Matt opened his mouth, closing it just as fast. You got him, fair and square. “Alright, I can respect that,” he said.

It was so serious to you that you sat up straighter to look at him. “Of course you would. Think about it. They’re independent, low-maintenance, and they purr. Plus, Foggy and Karen will forever shut up about you getting a guide dog ‘cause we’ll already have a cat,” you said.

He couldn’t possibly argue with that logic. But deep down, he knew. He knew the moment you brought a cat home, he’d be doomed. But he couldn’t say no to you.

“Okay, fine,” he caved, though the smile tugging at his lips gave him away. “Let’s get a cat.”

Fast forward a week, and you have dragged him to one of New York’s animal shelters to find a cat. Fall has fully settled over the city, the air crisp with a slight chill, and the streets lined with leaves of red, orange, and yellow. Matt’s hand is intertwined with yours as you step inside, and though he tries his best to act casual, you can feel the subtle tension in him. The smell of hay and litter toy with his heightened senses. It’s a lot all at once, but he promised that for you, he would do anything.

This is a decision you will have to make together. So, he forces a smile when you look at him with that worried crease between your brows, and he tells you it’s okay. He’s got this. You choose to believe him.

“This is exciting,” you murmur as a volunteer leads you through to the room where the cats are held. “We’re getting a cat!” You want to jump up and down and screech like a banshee, that’s how happy you are he said yes, even though you know he did it more for you than for himself, but if you start acting crazy now, they might never let you leave.

“I like to say, ‘let the cat choose you’,” the volunteer says once you have reached your destination. “So, please, take your time. Also,” she turns around again, toward Matt, “if one of them tries to nibble on your cane, just tell them no.”

You swallow a giggle that threatens to escape. “Thanks,” you smile at her as she leaves, leaving you alone in a room full of… well, cats.

You have never been closer to heaven.

“I don’t want anyone nibbling on my cane,” Matt mutters beside you.

You shake your head, laughing. “Relax. They’re just cats.”

Cats of all shapes, sizes, and colors lounge around the room, some curled up in cozy beds, others batting lazily at toys hanging from strings. You take note of the numerous cat trees, some attached to the wall. It looks like a feline paradise.

A few cats are eyeing you already, but most of them seem rather unimpressed. They must get a lot of potential new parents every day.

Matt can feel your pulse quicken as you take a few steps forward, letting go of his hand to crouch down near one of the more adventurous kittens—a fluffy gray one with bright eyes.

“Hi,” you almost squeak, reaching out carefully to offer your hand. The kitten sniffs at your fingers before deciding to nuzzle into them. “Oh, you’re so cute. What’s your name?” You read the tag around his neck. “Bruno. Nice to meet you.” You’re not sure why you are telling him your name, but it seems like the right thing to do.

You feel so warm inside, like you are taking the one step you have been wanting to take from the start. Getting a pet with the man of your dreams. Though you seem to be enjoying yourself a lot more than Matt is.

He’s hesitant as he steps closer, folding his cane now that he is out of anyone’s eyesight, and he tilts his head slightly to listen to the kitten’s movements—the soft rustle of his fur, the tiny pitter-patter of paws on the floor, and the barely audible purring that you seem to be coaxing from him.

He can’t deny that he is a little jealous. You’re so enamored with him. If he could purr, he would.

“This was a great idea,” you say, turning to grin at Matt, who still hasn’t quite moved past the threshold of the room. You can tell he’s trying to maintain his usual composed demeanor, but his body language betrays him.

It’s funny to see your usually so stoic boyfriend nervous and almost scared of a few tiny kittens. The smell must be overwhelming, you know, but it can’t be the only thing holding him back.

“Matt,” you hold out a hand for him to take, “come on, don’t be shy. They’re not gonna bite.”

“Maybe not bite,” he says.

“You fight crime on a nightly basis, and you’re scared of cats?”

He frowns. “I’m not scared.”

“Sure,” you say. With a smile, you take his hand in yours again, guiding him toward a small black kitten that’s been quietly observing from a perch by the window. You’re not sure why, but the little guy reminds you of him. Calm, reserved, but always alert.

The kitten’s sleek fur gleams in the light, and when you bring Matt closer, he lets out a tiny, curious meow. The volunteer said to let the cats choose you, but you have never seen a more beautiful specimen—except for the human-cat right next to you.

“Meet potential fur baby number two,” you murmur.

You guide his hand toward the kitten.

Matt crouches down beside you, but he’s hesitant. For a second, you think he’s going to pull back, but then the kitten nuzzles right into his hand, and he stops dead in his tracks.

A soft smile spreads across Matt’s face—one of those rare, unguarded smiles that makes your heart flutter.

“He likes you…”

He chuckles softly. “I don’t know… seems like this one might be too calm for me.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Too calm? Suddenly, you want a high-maintenance cat? A second ago, you wouldn’t even touch him.”

“Just saying… might be nice to have a challenge.”

“I think we, but especially you, have enough challenges in your life,” you retort. “Maybe a calm cat is exactly what we need.”

He doesn’t respond, just keeps stroking the kitten’s fur as he curls up even more. Matt has something about you that puts both humans and cats at ease, you notice. The same thing that makes you want to curl up in his arms is making this tiny kitten trust him after not even a minute together. You watch the scene unfold, your heart swelling with affection. He’s so good at this.

You join in eventually. The kitten doesn’t shy away; he seems oddly content with the two of you already.

“So, what do you think?” you ask softly after a moment.

Matt tilts his head, considering, and for a second, you wonder if he’s really thinking about the question or if he’s just stalling. But then, he lets out a quiet sigh and says, “I don’t know… what do you think?”

You smile. He’s been through so much, been so used to carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. Something as simple as getting a pet—something that brings warmth and comfort—might feel strange to him.

You remember how it was when you started growing closer. When he asked you to move in with him. When he told you he loved you after you told him first, afraid you might still slip away from him as most people in his life have. Dealing with something small and fragile scares him. Having something to look after and care for scares him. Maybe that’s why you haven’t talked about children yet; he’s scared of making a mistake, of hurting the people he loves and has sworn to protect. But that’s not who Matt Murdock is to anyone but himself.

“I think,” you say, slipping your arm through his and leaning your head against his shoulder, “that you deserve everything good in your life. That’s why you should decide.”

He’s quiet for a moment, his fingers still brushing through the kitten’s fur. Finally, he nods, and the smile on his face turns just a little softer, a little more real.

“I love you,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I love you too.”

The kitten meows. His collar says ‘Pumpkin’, and that is oddly on the nose, you think. The two of you, finding a cat in October, and his name is Pumpkin.

Matt chuckles. “Okay, I heard that.” And then, turning toward you, he says, “Let’s take him home.”

Your face lights up. “Yeah?” you ask.

“Yeah. I mean, I already have the best thing I could have in the world, right here,” his chin tips toward you, “but… you’re right. We could use a little calm in our life.”

You press a kiss on his shoulder. “Then let’s do this. Let’s take him home.”

Pumpkin.

Pumpkin Murdock.

That doesn’t sound so bad. Now all you need is his last name, too.

Soon.

Very soon.

@ebathory997 @the-b33skn33s @scoliobean @drmeghanjones @lanae111 @gpenguin666 @linamarr @itwasthereaminuteago @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @etanordoesbullsh1t @thychuvaluswife @harleycao @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch @sya-skies @thatonegamefish @amberritonicole @pigeonmama @bohemianrhapsody86 @a-gir1-has-n0-name @winkev1 @callsign-ember @chittaphonstar @buckyyyismahhlife @trublu2u @xnatyx @zomtart @ethereal-blaze @littleagxs @lucienofthelakes @steve-chandler

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock #daredevil #daredevil x reader #charlie cox #lizzi's fictober 2024 #flufftober

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anjelagarrick · 1 year ago

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solace

simon riley x reader

summary: your boyfriend’s having an off day, you decide to comfort him.

tags: established relationship, depression, reverse comfort, fluff, a bit of angst, soft! simon

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

ADJUSTING THE SKIRT of your uniform, you smooth the creases, making sure your outfit was spotless before exiting the bathroom. Working as a barista was nice, you got to meet nice people, make cute latte art, it’s how you met your late boyfriend- he was dragged in by the arm by one of your regulars, Johnny. Simon was a big, burly man- hard eyes, quiet yet gruff voice. You found his mask adorable, unlike your co-workers that always had you serve him. Eventually, you managed to crack his wall and start little conversations; and eventually he came alone, no Johnny. He’d sit, observe. He was a good people watcher, you’d have to give him that. Something blooms, and eventually, you hesitantly leave your number upon a napkin, sliding it under his drink. You watched anxiously as he sat down, glancing at the napkin. He reads it for an awfully long time before pocketing it, he doesn’t look at you. He just drinks his drink, then leaves.

You feel extremely lucky that you managed to become his lover. Simon, despite looking tough and rough on the outside, was such a sweet man. He held you gently, helped you with cooking, he made you laugh. What got you to fall in love was his eyes, honey brown eyes that stared at you with adoration and joy, how he’d go from a stony look in public to a softened gaze when his eyes found you when you were out with friends. You understood that Simon would have to be away a lot, with his work and everything, you remember the first week he was away. You fretted, texting him every hour to make sure he was alive and kicking. With time; you developed more faith in your boyfriend’s abilities (not that you doubted them), and you held hope that he would come back. Simon had come home from deployment roughly about a week ago. He kept his experience quiet, not giving you many details- which wasn’t weird for him, yet something in him seemed more… sad.

“Baby, i’m going to work.” You lean upon the doorframe. Simon, to your surprise, was still in bed. With his job as a soldier, you were used to Simon getting up at six a.m, sharp, not a minute behind nor over. He’d have his coffee, go to the gym, come back and shower then allow himself to relax. Yet right now, as of seven forty-five a.m, he was in bed- in the same position you left him in. You knew he was awake, you had spoken to him briefly, told him good morning and kissed him sweetly. Simon doesn’t respond, his back to you. Slowly, you move away, walking down the hall. Instead of collecting your flats, you pick up your phone from next to your bag. It rings twice, then your boss picks up. “Hey, sir… so sorry but im gonna have to take the day off. Something came up.” You tell him, hearing your boss sigh. “Really? Rush hour is about to start.” He complains. “I know, but this is really important..! I’ll work a double tomorrow and Thursday- I promise.” You insist, glancing back to the bedroom. “And Friday. See you tomorrow.” Your boss hangs up without a goodbye. Heading to the kitchen, you make your boyfriend a coffee- just the way he likes it, and head back to the bedroom.

Slowly so it wouldn’t spill, you place the steaming mug beside him. “Thought you were going to work?” He asks, voice raspy. “I called in sick.” You respond, changing from your uniform into some more casual wear. “Why?” Simon’s brows furrow as he watches you, not moving. “To take care of you. Somethings up, I can tell.” You reply, shrugging as you get back into bed beside him. Simon sighs, rolling onto his back. “You don’t have to. Just… having an off day.” He tells you, you hum, shuffling to rest against his chest. “Why? What’s the matter, baby?” You ask softly, hand moving up to gently trace over a scar upon his cheek. Simon raises his hand, enveloping your own and kissing your palm. “Dunno, just… not feeling good.” He responds. “Do you need medicine?” You blink up at him, watching him shake his head. “No, not physically…”

“Oh…” You mumble, letting the silence sit for a while. “Si, do you have- y’know… depression?” You ask sheepishly, worry growing. “Yeah, got diagnosed a while back. Before I met you.” You sit up at his response. “Baby, why didn’t you tell me?” You frown, cupping his cheeks gently. “Didn’t wanna burden you. This is my fight.” He sighs, letting his eyes close. “Simon, you’re not a burden. You should of told me, I want to help you.” You lean down, kissing his jaw gently. “You’re such a good guy, Si. You deserve the world, and I want to support you as much as I possibly can.” You tell him, thumb still stroking his scar. “You… you don’t have to, babe. I’m fine.” Simon lies, voice thick; as if he were going to cry. “Simon…” you sigh, resting your head against his as you try to soothe him. “Let me help you.” You beg quietly. Simon stays silent for a few moments. “…okay.” He mutters, hand finding your back. You smile, kissing his temple before sitting up. “Okay. I have some ideas, just to get you out of bed and have you feeling active.” You move your hands to rest on his chest.

“I’m listening.” He responds. “Good! The first idea is, we could go out to a café; there’s a new one out of town that i’ve heard good things about. It’s not too far, to be fair.” You explain, watching his eyes; they’re kind, loving. “Up to you, love.” Simon shrugs half-heartedly. “Well it’s your day, baby. We can do something else if you want?” You remind him, he hums. “Fine, we can check out this café.” He mutters, letting you pull him up. “Okay. Drink your coffee before it gets cold baby, we’ll go soon.” You respond, kissing his cheek gently. “Thanks love… you don’t have to do this.” He smiles, it’s small. “I want to do this. I hate seeing you sad.” You frown a little, kissing his lips before pulling away so he could drink his coffee. He hums softly, sipping his coffee. “I know, but still… thank you.” He responds.

“Why’re you feeling so down, anyway? Anything happen? Maybe at work?” You respond, hand gently massaging his arm, specifically the one wrapped around you. “Yeah… uh. My job isn’t easy, and… this guy I was working with for the first time, he got really messed up. Almost died- and I… I could of helped- could of prevented it. I… I ruined his life.” You hear his voice waver a little at the end, yet he immediately shuts his mouth, closing his eyes. “Oh, Simon. It’s not your fault.” You cup his cheeks, fluttering gentle kisses over his face. “It is. I could of been faster.” He insists, sighing shakily. “Simon, look at me. There is nothing you could of done differently. Your job is dangerous, he knew that when he signed up to join.” You tell him, voice much more firm. Simon sighs. “You did all you could, I’m sure.” You add on, kissing his lips gently. “You weren’t there.” He seethes, eyes darkening a little. You try not to let his tone hurt you. “But I know you. You’re such a sweetheart, you truly do care about the people around you, even though you won’t say it. I know you helped him, he’s still alive, isn’t he?” You ask, hands moving to his sides, gently massaging him. Simon let’s out another sigh, closing his eyes once more. “Look at me.” You mumble, patting his cheek gently. “It’s not your fault.” You insist.

Simon takes a moment, leaning his head against yours before taking a deep breath. “Yeah… okay, you’re right.” He mutters, squeezing his mug tightly as his other arm hugs you tight. “Of course i’m right, doofus.” You half joke, kissing the corner of his mouth; feeling it curl upwards as you do so. “Finish your coffee baby, and try not to worry. You’re home now.” You point out, he nods. “Yeah. Just gotta relax a little…” he responds, kissing you gently. “Thank you, baby.” He mumbles, you smile. “Of course! I’m not gonna abandon you, Si.” You coo, cuddling against his side as he drinks his coffee. “Want me to pick out an outfit for you baby?” You ask softly, head leaning against his shoulder. “If you want, love.” He shrugs a little. You smile brightly. “Great!” Moving away, you get up, moving to the closet. Simon watches you, a glint of amusement in his eyes as you pick your favourite things on him out and put them on the bed. “I heard this new place serves that cake you like. We’ll have to get some.” You say over your shoulder. Simon nods, finishing his coffee. “Sure thing, baby.”

#mw2 2022 #mw2 imagine #mw2 x reader #mw2 x you #mw2022 #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x y/n #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost mwii #mw2 ghost #ghost x female reader #| anjela wrote this 🕯️

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onlyjaeyun · 1 year ago

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𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐍 – 𝟐𝟑

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄: 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲

⤲ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐋𝐞𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

⤲ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞!𝐀𝐔, 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝!𝐀𝐔, 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭, 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭

⤲ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟕.𝟓𝐤 (not proofread yet i got hungry, sorry)

⤲ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: 𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐲, 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞, 𝐚 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞. 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬, 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬, 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨'𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧...

"The actual love of my life."

The sound of your best friend's voice sends literal chills of excitement over your body and for the first time in a total of three weeks you feel like your lungs fill with oxygen again.

You still have to get used to not spending every single second with your better half after doing just that for the past twelve years and as you wrap your arms around his strong body, you let out a deep sigh.

Jungwon's warmth, his familiar scent and calming energy embrace you within seconds, easing your nervous soul in ways only he manages to do it.

You've never associated anyone with an actual home except your brother, until you met your best friend all these years ago. You still remember the way he'd make you laugh in the worst moments of your life as he wiped away every single tear and as usual, healed injuries he hadn't caused.

"Now now", he sighs and takes your face into his big, delicate hands, his attentive eyes roaming your face and you know he can read you like an open book. It's always been as easy for him as it's been for his older cousin and the ability's definitely a blessing and a curse in one.

"Let's save those conversations for the next few days, yeah? Today's going to be a good day and you're going to enjoy yourself or I'll have to throat punch you", Won's words leave no room for discussion and you can't help but chuckle at his threat, knowing he'd actually pull through with it if he had to.

Once the two of you get comfortable in Heeseung's car, you catch up on the past week, since neither one of you has had the time to actually talk on the phone, both of you covering extra shifts to get the same week off and enjoy your time together.

For some reason, neither one of you seems to dare mention a certain someone and you wonder what Jungwon talked to Heeseung about, only to get rid of those thoughts as quickly as they appeared.

The drive to your brother's apartment is calm and everything you needed right before a nervewrecking night like this one and all of a sudden you find yourself dreading the upcoming few hours.

Just as you two step out of the elevator, you literally run into the strong chest of someone you recognize by his scent before you even get to see his face.

"Wonie!" Heeseung's deep voice fills your head in the most agonisingly perfect way possible, taking over yet another one of your senses and with your bottom lip firmly tugged between your teeth you take a step back and watch the two cousins greet each other.

"Where are you going? The party's literally about to start", Jungwon asks and definitely doesn't miss the way the older one's eyes find their way to you and back within a second.

You're just glad neither one of you is brave enough to actually address it.

"Jong's too drunk to cook and everyone got here straight from work. Yuna almost punched Yun in the face because he told her to relax, so I'm gonna go and get something to eat. Delivery would take too long."

Heeseung wants to look at you, he's dying to take in the sight of your perfect body in that cute little dress, save it in his memories for all those times he's by himself and has nothing but his thoughts to handle, but he doesn't.

Not even a single time does his gaze shift to you, his eyes remaining on his cousin's face as he hears his heart breaking into thousands of pieces in a far distance.

"My baby's going to join you", Jungwon suddenly says and with wide eyes you lift your head and stare at him, trying to understand what the fuck he just said.

"Huh? No, it's okay", Seung says and for some reason there's a quick flash of irritation in his eyes, but you can't help and be sure it's mostly because of your best friend's choice of words to address you.

"You'll have lots to carry", Won states calmly, "you've got like ten hungry mouths to feed and my presence will distract them long enough."

"What about my presence?" You say and place a hand on your hips, looking him up and down only to catch a gentle smile of amusement on Heeseung's pretty lips, which however slips away rather quickly once he realises.

"You'd be too much of a distraction to the boys, especially in a dress like that." Jungwon's shameless flirting doesn't even faze you anymore and with a roll of your eyes, you allow yourself to peak a glance at Heeseung, who – again – doesn't seem fond of his cousin's behavior towards you.

"It's okay, seriously", Seung says and you can tell it's directed towards you, yet he still refuses to make eye contact, which definitely irritates you in a way you weren't expecting it.

If he's going to act the way he does, the least he could do is have the audacity to meet your eyes when he's talking to you once in a while.

So, without an ounce of hesitation, you lift your head to look at his face, subconsciously enjoying the definition of his features and how everything about him seems perfect.

"Don't be a baby now", Jungwon rolls his eyes and reaches for his suitcase, pushing it away from the three of you before he follows and quickly lifts his hand to make you stay.

"Whatever you're ordering, please get a less spicy version as well, not everyone has a tongue of steel like you." Those are your best friend's last words before he makes his way to the front door of your brother's apartment and with a soft sigh, you turn around and press the button of the elevator.

The following few minutes are filled with nothing but silence, since neither one of you dares to start a conversation. You know he'd feel uncomfortable and quickly bring it to an end so he can act like you don't exist to ease his conscience, which is why you'd rather sit there and say absolutely nothing at all instead.

Once you two make it to the boys' favorite restaurant, you thank Heeseung for holding the door open for you, a big smile suddenly appearing on your face as you spot the cute waiter and owner's som at the register.

"Hey, there!" You lift your hand to wave at him, Heeseung's eyes attentively watching your every movement and just like Jake had told you to, you decide to play a card you usually would have been too scared to even think of, but this time it's actually happening and not just in your instagram stories.

"Oh, goodness! There she is, the prettiest girl in town!" The young man shoots you a charming smile, runs his hand through his dark hair and even winks at you, yet not giving an ounce of his attention to the tall male mext to you.

"Don't get me all flustered now, you know I tip too well if you do!"

Both of you erupt in laughter, much to Heeseung's dislike and with his hands balled into fists to the point where his rings actually hurt him, he just clears his throat and finally manages to make the man avert his gaze from you.

Once he's made sure to get everyone's order and a few side dishes, the man disappears for a quick moment and you can feel the tension between the two of you.

"Close, huh?" The sudden question takes you aback and with furrowed brows you look at him in annoyance.

"Too lazy to form a complete sentence..huh?"

You hate yourself for being so irritated by his behavior because you've been playing with his patience all week, thanks to Jaeyun. You genuinely didn't think it'd work, yet from what your brother's friend has been telling you, your little game of provocation has worked just as you had planned and Heeseung's been going crazy just because of your instagram stories.

But you've decided not to care too much, knowing he won't act on it anyway so there's absolutely no point in considering if it's too much or not.

"Here you go, this is the change and a little something for you guys while you wait", Siwoo says with a bright smile, his pretty eyes again, remaining on you only and you hate how happy the sudden tension in Heeseung's posture makes you.

"Thank you, handsome", you reply with a charming smirk, carefully watching your life long crush roll his eyes in annoyance in your peripheral sight, while you're barely holding back a chuckle.

You quickly take one of the tooth picks and take a little rice cakes into your louth, humming softly when the perfect sauce hits your taste buds and you can feel both men's eyes on you, yet only caring about the one's beside you.

"I've been meaning to ask for your instagram", Siwoo suddenly says and pulls out his phone, handing it to you with a hopeful expression in his pretty eyes.

"Oh, su-", but before you can even think about reaching for the device in his hand, an arm suddenly appears in front of you, pushing him away casually but firmly.

"She has a boyfriend", Heeseung suddenly hisses and you feel heat boiling in your lower tummy, the possessiveness in his voice sending shivers down your body and with an inaudible gasp you look at him in shock.

"Oh? So, you and Jaeyun are dating? I always thought he was just joking, I'm sorry", Siwoo mumbles and you hate how Heeseung's reaction has him embarrassed as he puts his phone away again and smiles awkwardly.

"I do not have a boyfriend", you quickly reply and push Seung's arm away, holding your hand out for the young man to give you the device again, "Jaeyun and I are just friends."

You emphasise the last two words while looking into Heeseung's eyes with a fire he's never seen before and for some reason the urge to just bend you over and fuck you into oblivion has never been as intense as in this particular moment.

He hates the way his blood is boiling and he can't do anything but watch as you type in your instagram user name into the search bar, quickly tapping the follow button and give Siwoo his phone back while shooting him one of your prettiest smiles.

Heeseung knows he has absolutely no right to feel jealous or angry, but these past two weeks he's had to tap through your stories and listen to Jaeyun tell him all the details about your new lover, so he has absolutely no energy left to fight these thoughts and emotions.

This is what he's always wanted. For you to move on with a good guy who eats you out and takes you on cute little dates, something your new fucker has apparently been doing a lot, according to Jaeyun.

He hates his best friend for being so open about your new relationship despite his knowledge of Heeseung's feelings, but there's no point in blaming anyone but himself so all he can do is let out a loud sigh and accept his defeat.

Once Heeseung thanks the kind employee for helping him load all the bags full of hot food into the little box in the back of his car, you both say your farewells and head back to your brother's shared apartment, yet again – not a single word being exchanged throughout the whole drive.

But as you turn to the side to reach for the door handle, Heeseung doesn't immediately unlock the door itself, a loud sigh following his lack of movement.

"Why are you doing this to me, princess?"

His choice of words and way to address you, as well as his tired tone and the lack of eye contact sends a jolt of sadness through your body. You hate how much he's fighting his feelings but you have no choice but to push him if you really want him.

"What exactly am I doing – especially to you?" You spit back, sudden anger and frustration taking over the place of your sadness and with your hands balled into fists you turn your body to face the love of your life again.

"Don't act like you don't know how much watching you with other men hurts me", Heeseung growls and throws his head back against the seat's headrest, his hands tightly holding onto the steering wheel and you can't help but bite your bottom lip at the sight of his pretty, ring adorned fingers.

"Yeah, right", you reply and don't even try to hide the annoyance in your voice, "you act like I was the one who pushed you away every time. I get to do whatever I want with whoever I want to do it with."

And those words flip a switch in Heeseung's brain, mental images of your pleasure contorted face with a faceless guy between your legs, driving him absolutely insane within a few seconds. He's never felt as jealous as he does right now and he actually watched your boyfriends kiss you multiple times in the past.

The fact you're so open about your intimacy with other men has his heart skipping a few beats, all while he tries to breathe in as much air as possible, only for his lungs to fail to take it all in.

"Oh, so you're going to go and fuck some lame ass loser because you feel like it? Come on, why don't you go back and let that ugly bitch from the restaurant take you, hm? You love wasting your time after all."

You don't expect his sudden outburst and as soon as your brain processes his words, you feel heat pooling in your lowe tummy as your cunt clenches in despair. He's not being loud or aggressive, yet there's nothing but raw jealousy burning in his usually so soft eyes and you hate how much you're enjoying it.

"Maybe I'll do just that", you hiss and can barely hold back the look of surprise on your own face in response to your words.

You've never been one to openly talk to your brother or his friends about anything related to intimacy, but you've had enough of Heeseung's games.

"And what about your little boyfriend, huh? The one you post and talk about all the time? Think he's gonna like hearing you talk like this?"

At this point you have absolutely no ounce of patience left, and neither does he.

You attentively watch the way a deep shade of pink starts covering the soft skin of his cheeks, his eyes filled with anger and jealousy as he tries his best not to yell at you. And for some reason you feel relieved to see a reaction as intense as this one from the man you've been head over heels for all this time.

In a twisted way it's helped you finally get rid of all those thoughts dismissing any possible feelings of his towards you.

"There is no fucking boyfriend!" You finally raise your voice as your patience finally finds its absolute limit and with wide eyes you look at Heeseung and try to calm yourself down.

"Oh, so go ahead then! Let's see if that fucker can even last longer than a fucking minute and then you can come and brag to me about it", Seung's words are harsh and dirty, they make you feel uncomfortable yet for the first time in your life you don't even think about stepping away from a confrontation.

For a short moment you're surprised at your boldness, not used to being like this to anyone, especially someone with an aura as intimidating as Lee Heeseung.

"Maybe I'll do just that, Heeseung." You take a deep breath and roll your eyes, turning your head to hide just how much you love this side of him to avoid a sudden turn of atmosphere.

"He looks like he eats it well, too, doesn't he? Once he's done with me I'll make sure to let you know if I've finally found someone who can eat-", but yet again, you don't get to finish your sentence as Heeseung quickly reaches over to cover your mouth with his ring clad hand.

His touch isn't rough or harsh, not even firm, it's just a way of him asking you to be quiet as your words get the best of him and with big, glossy eyes you watch the way he pushes his forehead against the steering wheel and lets out a loud sigh.

He sounds defeated, tired and just done.

But you don't get to feel bad for what you said, nor does he give the time to pity him.

"Stop", he whispers and tightens his grip on his own thigh, yet not moving an inch when it comes to the one on your face, "I can't do this anymore."

You sigh and reach for his hand, gently wrapping your fingers around his and placing it in your lap before you turn to look at him.

"Why are you fighting it so much, Seungie?"

The question lingers in the air for a good minute and if it wasn't for the feeling of your skin against his, Heeseung would have stayed quiet for another thirty.

"I promised to never cross this line", he finally admits after losing the battle against himself for the nth time within a week, "I fucking promised."

Heeseung was doing so, so well hiding his feelings for you all this time, which is probably the reason why he would have never expected your close presence to make it so much harder than before.

Knowing you're this close to him physically and he still has to pretend like he's not going absolutely crazy over you is what has driven him into absolute insanity and at this point he's just exhausted.

He's had to watch you live your life without him for years, pretending he didn't care and be content with being as distant as he's always been but after realising how close the two of you could have been if it wasn't for his stupidity, he's been regretting most of the things he's done and wished he could have done it differently.

At this point he's just glad he somehow gets to stay in contact with you, talking to you becoming a privilege and treasure he could not take for granted even if he wanted to and after leaving his apartment for the fifth time within a week to make you feel as comfortable with the lack of his presence, he's simply had enough.

"Look at me, please", you whisper and patiently wait for him to meet your eyes, knowing you'll feel more comfortable and less tense if it was for that, "stop being so hard on yourself. It's breaking my heart to see you like this."

Just a few minutes ago you were yelling at him about having another man eat you out and now you're on the complete opposite side of the road. If it wasn't for the fast pace of your heartbeat, the sudden change in air would have given you a good whiplash.

"I want you", Heeseung suddenly whispers, allowing himself to indulge in the sweetness of your tone and the softness of your touch, calming his nerves in a way he's never experienced it before until you came into his life.

"I've never wanted anyone as much as I want you, princess." His confession immediately pushes you to the furthest edges of your self control and as a thick veil of tears blurs your sight, you can't help but swallow them down again. His tone is genuine and you know he's being honest, but from the way his eyes are looking everywhere but your own, you know he's about to crash every bit of hope you had manage to build up these past few days.

"I just can't break this promise, Sunghoon is my everything", yet again, you find yourself despising their bond, when everyone else in this world would probably kill to have a friendship like theirs. Neither one of them is at fault, and you know that, yet you can't stop yourself from being angry at life for putting the both of you in a situation like this one.

And as you hold Heeseung's hand, something you've been dreaming of for years, taking in the sight of his perfect face and those soft eyes you've been craving for so long, your heart finally manages to overpower your mind and before you can overthink them, you find yourself mumbling the words "and what about me? What am I to you?"

"My most precious treasure."

Heeseung doesn't miss a single beat as if he felt your question in his heart before you had the chance to voice it out to him. He's been through these questions so many times already, at this point he's sure he's got an answer ready for every single one of them.

Maybe it's the raw honesty in his voice or the actual pain in his eyes, yet as soon as you process his sweet confession, you feel the tears streaming down your cheeks, leaving a burning trail on your skin and doubling the knot in your throat in its size.

Heeseung has seen you cry before, but this time he knows he's got the chance to actually comfort you and for a minute, everything and everyone becomes irrelevant. Nobody and nothing matters as he pushes his seat back and reaches for your hand, pulling you into his lap and wrapping his arms around your body.

Neither one of you remembers the last time you two hugged each other. Both of you turning too shy and awkward once puberty had come around and yet as soon as you indulge in his embrace, the comforting feeling of familiarity overwhelms you.

"My sweet souled angel girl", Heeseung whispers and caresses your back, his heart breaking a little more with each one of your sobs, but for some reason he's glad you finally know how he feels about you.

"Why is life so unfair", you mumble against the soft skin of his neck, breathing in his calming scent because you know you won't get another opportunity like this.

"I'm sorry, Baby, I wish I could give you an answer but I'm still trying to figure it out myself. Always wondered why you had to fall for me and not one of the other boys", he sighs and pushes a strand of hair out of your face, taking it into his big hands and nudging his nose against yours.

"Life would have been so much easier for you if you fell for basically anyone else." You know he's not doing it on purpose, yet after talking to both Jake and Jungwon about it for so long, you can't help but actually hear the self destruction in his words, the conviction of his presence and place in your life being nothing but a burden to you wavering in each one of them.

"It's unfair but I wouldn't want it any other way", you quickly say and look up at him with teary eyes. You need him to understand just how much he means to you.

"You're the reason my standards have always been so high", you chuckle and nibble on your bottom lip as soon as Heeseung looks at you with surprise grazing his perfect features.

"You're so fucking cute", he sighs in response and cocks his head to the side, his eyes slowly roaming your face to land on your parted lips and for the first time this evening you regret your choice of outfit. Your skirt has already ridden up your thighs and you can feel the zipper of his jeans against your sensitive cunt, yet still afraid he might feel the growth of the wet patch in the center of your panties.

"Don't look at me like that, princess", he suddenly grunts and tries to adjust in his seat, "we can't do this."

You don't say anything. You don't even dare to move. There's something heavy lingering in the air, a sexual tension neither one of you had ever had the guts to acknowledge, yet now happened to be the reason for the lack of oxygen in your lungs.

"Then we won't do anything", you whisper and lean further into his gentle touch, loving the way his other hand is holding onto your hips with such vigor, you have to physically hold back a whimper.

"Just one kiss", Seung's voice is a mere whisper, barely audible, "and then I'm gonna let you go again."

"Just one kiss", you reply in the same way, gasping for air as his hot breath fans your sensitive skin, "and then I won't ever let go of you again."

Neither one of you dares to make the next, important move. Both just taking in the presence of the other as you lose yourself in all those hidden feelings and urges, until you've finally had enough.

Without missing another beat you lean forward and press your lips against Heeseung's, almost instantly eliciting a deep grunt from his throat before he moves even closer into your touch.

The kiss is calm and soft at first, Heeseung obviously hesitating in hopes of maintaining his composure, only for you to break every single wall he had built throughout the years with one whimper.

He's been dreaming about hearing your noises for so long, there's absolutely no way he's going to back away now that he finally got a taste.

You can feel the bulge in his jeans growing underneath the light movements of your hips as you kiss him deeper, harder, hungrier. The need to lose yourself in the sweet taste of the man you've wanted for so long finally taking over every single one of your senses and with a soft sigh your hands find home in his dark hair.

Heeseung on the other hand has lost every bit of self control and if it wasn't for the current situation you're in, he would have made his way with you in the backseat with absolutely no hesitation. He knew he wasn't going to push you away for a third time and now that he's actually wrapping his lips around your tongue, he knows he's absolutely fucked.

With each time your lips meet, his hot muscle grazing yours and exploring your mouth in ways you've been craving for way too long you lose yourself even more in the sweet haze of pleasure, subconsciously rocking your hips against his to get rid of the pressure on your cunt.

"Princess", Heeseung suddenly whispers completely out of breath, his attention remaining on you and you're surprised just how heavy the both of you are breathing, "your phone is ringing."

You forcefully swallow the last few noises of pleasure before you reach for your phone on the passenger seat, ice cold shivers running down your spine at the sight of your brother's contact picture and name on your display.

"Where the fuck are you two?" Hoon slurs, not even trying to hide the few drinks he's had since he had come home a few hours ago.

You look at Heeseung with heavy eyes and your hand on the base of his neck, biting back a whimper when he moves it a little further up to wrap around his own throat, his gaze never once leaving yours.

"We just parked the car", you say and try to sound as unaffected as possible, "two more minutes."

"Just hurry the fuck up, Yuna's going to fist fight Jaeyun if she has to listen to another one of his stupid jokes without anything in her stomach."

You chuckle nervously in response to your brother's words but can't get yourself to verbally answer him, just ending the call and slowly climbing off of Heeseung's lap and back into the passenger seat.

The air and tension in the car is filled with arousal, so heavy, you feel like there's barely any oxygen left as your head starts spinning.

"Are we going to talk about this?" You ask softly, not brave enough to lift your head and look at him, only for Heeseung to place his hand on your hand and letting out a soft hum of approval.

"Yes, Baby", he replies quickly and you stare at him with big eyes, surprised at his sudden openness, "but let's get this party over with first, yeah?"

All you can do is nod and kiss the palm of his hand on your cheek, his lips stretching into a soft, honest smile before he lets out a sigh and gets out of his car rather quickly.

As soon as you two step through the door, both Jaeyun and Jungwon are attentively watching you and with your brows furrowed in confusion you just roll your eyes and make your way past them. Neither one of them manage to get a minute with you to themselves as you help Heeseung and the girls with the food and since both of them haven't eaten in several hours, they quickly shift their attention to the more important things.

Once everyone is seated none of you bothers to even bring a toast to the birthday boy, who's currently busy drinking the little cocktail Ryujin had mixed him up and you can't help but feel glad because if anyone was sober enough, they would have felt the tension between you and Heeseung withou any difficulties.

Sitting across from each other and right next to your brother definitely doesn't contribute to it, since your gazes meet more than you would have expected but every single time Heeseung looks at you, he wipes his thumb over his bottom lip and lets his eyes fall to yours, casually letting you know of his unspoken thoughts.

By the time everyone's well fed and back to giggles and loud laughter again, you feel yourself easing up a little as well and actually manage to shift your attention away from your brother's best friend for a little longer, focusing on your girls instead. Since the three of you haven't had much time to chat the way you used to, both Ryujin and Yuna have quite a few stories to tell as you clean up the kitchen knowing the boys are busy enjoying the night in the living room. However, it doesn't take long for Wonie to join you and soon you find yourself holding your belly from how hard you've been laughing at your friends' comments.

Every now and then you catch yourself letting out a sigh of relief and gratitude, since this has been the first time in weeks you feel like you're actually living a moment instead of just making your way through a night and as much as you want to hate the reason behind it, you can't.

After about an hour of seperation, Jungwon forces the three of you to join them in the living room again and after almost brutally pushing the girls into the hallway of your brother's apartment, you're adamant to finish the rest of the dishes as quick as possible.

But as soon as your friends stumble through the door, Heeseung's eyes are nervously looking for you, yearning for your presence even worse than before and every time he looked at you after the kiss, his head has been telling him just how badly he fucked up because letting go of you and staying away seems absolutely impossible now.

He doesn't say a single word, just waits for everyone to agree on what Cartoon to watch for their drinking game and sneakily making his way out of his spot once the argument becomes more serious.

You don't even give him the chance to watch you, as his presence creeps up on you before you can even see him in your peripheral vision and quickly shoot him a soft smile.

"Is everything okay?" You ask and reach for the towel to dry the last few dishes, only for Heeseung to take them out of your grip and place them on the kitchen counter again.

With a quick glance to the door to make sure no one followed him, he reaches for your face and pulls you closer to his strong body, his hands finding home on your hips as he buried his nose in your neck and inhales your sweet scent the way you did it with his.

"We can do the rest tomorrow, princess", he whispers into your ear, tightening his grip and gently groping the soft flesh, "I want you as close to me as possible from now on."

Your thighs basically start pressing together almost automatically in response to his words, the sudden attention nothing you're used to and you genuinely hope he can't tell just how needy you are.

Of course Lee Heeseung has always read you like an open book but he's never seen you in a state of arousal, so maybe these are the first pages he still has to figure out.

"Stop doing that", he suddenly presses through gritted teeth and nudges his knee in between your thighs, "I've been trying everything in the books to get rid of my fucking boner for the past two hours and knowing you've probably ruined your panties just makes me want to bury my face in that pretty cunt and finally take what's mine."

Speechless.

There's not a single word left in your vocabulary to describe what his words have managed to erupt inside of you and for a whole minute you're convinced the whole world has come to a stop for you to actually process them.

For some reason you're not even shocked, since you always kinda knew Heeseung's got a talent when it comes to charming his way into one's heart, yet you've never actively heard him something so lewd, so forbidden that you simply don't know what to say.

Your whole body is on fire; there's not one part of your limbs not burning like someone threw you into actual flames and with wide eyes you try not to fall to your knees.

"Are you thinking about all the ways I'm going to make you cum, pretty girl? You seem so thoughtful", Heeseung chuckles and casually leans against the wall behind him, his eyes roaming your body and taking in every single one of your reactions. He's always loved the effect he's had on you, yet now it's finally time for him to take advantage of your body's sweet response to him and just the way you're looking at him through glossy eyes is enough for him to never stop.

But all of a sudden there's a light shift in your thoughts. He can tell by the way you nervously start nibbling on your bottom lip that he isn't your only focus anymore and with another quick glance to the door he places his hand on your cheek and looks at you worriedly.

"Too much, Baby? Want me to go a little easier on you?"

You quickly shake your head no, since you definitely don't want him to stop or take it easier, his pace and everything he's been doing more than just perfect and with a soft sigh you try to get rid of those stupid demons, only to realise there's no point in hiding them from Lee Heeseung.

"What's wrong then, princess?"

"I've never –", you take a deep breath and try to compose yourself, but still giving you the time you need to find the right words simce you've never actually told anyone about this, not even your closest friends.

Heeseung doesn't really know what to expect since he's stopped hoping to be any of your firsts the day he saw you get quite handsy with your first boyfriend during a friendsmas dinner back in his last year of High School, which is probably why remaining quiet and just waiting for you to talk is his best option instead of getting his hopes too high up.

It's not like he cares if you're experienced or not, nothing is going to change how much he wants you anyway.

"Nobody has ever made me cum and I don't want you to be disappointed when it doesn't work out the way you've imagined."

For some reason, you don't feel as ashamed about it with Heeseung the way you usually did when it came to your previous boyfriends and the fact you have yet to talk about the whole moment in his car from a few hours ago, yet are already discussing details like this definitely seems a little rushed.

Yet it doesn't feel like you're going too fast. There's just too much pent up frustration for the both of you to actually take it slower and you're pretty sure (and hopeful) Heeseung feels the same way.

You carefully watch his reaction and nervously fumble with the rings on your fingers, the knot in your throat growing bigger and bigger the longer it takes for him to reply to your statement. You never thought it'd come to this point with Lee Heeseung, of all people, no matter how much you've been dreaming about it, so you simply can't help but feel even more self conscious about it.

It's not like you've never had an orgasm before, you've got a fair collection of toys to do just that, after all. It's mostly about your lack of satisfaction provided by someone else, which is why you've stopped asking for basically anything after about three months into your second relationship. Most of the time you liked them enough to give them head or let them fuck your fist, yet never trusting them enough to take it to another level, which you're definitely not ready to tell Heeseung just yet.

"I'm sorry", you whisper quickly when you realise he still hasn't said anything, the guilt of ruining his fantasies overtaking you in an instant and without hesitation you try your best to compensate for your lacking, "but I wasn't expecting anything from you anyway, I promise. I could just uhm do something for you and–"

"Princess."

As soon as the petname falls past his lips in the form of a whisper you shut your mouth almost instinctively, yet never once looking away from his face. You're still too shy to meet his gaze but try to focus on his pretty lips instead.

"First of all", he sighs and pushes your chin up with two of his fingers, "don't ever apologize for something like this, do you hear me?" All you can do is nod softly, still too flustered to respond and the possibility of someone walking in on you two so close to each other like this definitely contributes to the thrumming in your throat.

"We're going to talk about this when it's not as risky but I just want you to know you could never, ever disappoint me about these things. You're everything I've ever dreamed of and nothing is going to change that, yeah?"

It's definitely the way he talks and looks at you, which easily calms down all of those anxious thoughts in your brain and for the first time in yesrs you find yourself believing someone, almost instantly falling in love with the silence in your head.

"Good girl", Heeseung mumbles, doesn't even think about it for another second only to turn around and open the fridge to prepare Sunghoon's birthday cake, knowing one of them might storm into the kitchen any minute wondering what you two have been doing for so long.

And as he looks around for the decoration bag, you can't even blink as your body tries its best to cool down from the heat those two words of praise have sent through your system.

You've always had a thing about being praised, realising it's most likely caused by your lack of attention and validation in your childhood and confirmed by your choice of romance books, but none of your romantic interests had ever cared enough to indulge in it.

You still remember your most recent boyfriend trying his best to compliment you, only to use the words "hot" and "sexy" four times in a row and making it even worse for you to the point where you had accepted your fate, yet again.

Knowing Heeseung seems more than just casual about it to the point where he doesn't realise the effects it has on you sends jolts of excitement and anticipation through your body in the best way possible.

However, just as he'd expected, Jongseong stumbles through the kitchen door with flushed cheeks and messy hair, questioning the two of you only to place a finger over his pursed lips when he spots your brother's birthday cake.

It doesn't take long for them to absolutely destroy it all, not even bothering to plate each piece but instead everyone digging into it with some kind of utensil they found on the table, Jake not even giving enough fucks to find the second chopstick to his first one.

You have no idea how much time passes as you start playing random games and everyone tells a story about Sunghoon to honor him, most of you losing it as soon as Heeseung starts to speak because he never fails to bring out the best ones.

The girls are the first ones to leave, Heeseung insisting on driving them home with the boys, despite them living in an apartment across the street. By the time he's made sure everyone got home safe it's way past midnight and to his surprise mostly everything is cleaned up, yet none of you are where you're supposed to be.

It's not until he hears your chuckles through Sunghoon's door that he lets out a sigh of relief when he realizes you're still here.

"This was the best birthday ever", your brother slurs, his words barely coherent at this point and usually you'd be a little stricter about his drinking habits, but this time you just don't have the heart to actually say anything, "you and Seung are my favorite people in this world. I'm so grateful to have you both."

For some reason you feel a sting reach your heart as you thread your fingers through Sunghoon's hair, taking in the sight of his features and reminding yourself of his importance in your life, yet not feeling guilty enough to turn your head and look at Heeseung, who's standing in the doorway, just watching the three of you, with genuine adoration.

"Shut the fuck up."

Your best friends whine quickly ruins your oscar worthy moment and with a roll of your eyes you give Jungwon a kiss on the forehead and finally make your way to where Heeseung's standing.

"I'm–"

But for the third time within a few hours, Heeseungs cuts you off by wrapping his arms around your shoulder and pulling you into his embrace, just holding you close to his chest.

"Today's been a long one, how about we leave the talking for another day, yeah? I'm here, princess", he whispers and gives you a quick kiss, afraid one of the boys might still be up, "and I promise I'm not going anywhere anymore. Now go and get comfortable in my bed, I'll take the couch."

When you bury your face in Heeseung's pillow, you can't help the big smile on your lips and your brain finally lets you relive every single moment between the two of you, even showing you the mercy of pushing every bit of guilt to the back of your brain until you can barely keep your eyes open anymore, hoping you're not the only one falling asleep with butterflies in your tummy tonight.

And if Heeseung had the heart to let you know that this is the first time in weeks he's not actually crying himself to sleep, he definitely would because he can't even remember the last time he placed his head on a pillow with a genuine smile on his lips.

For a moment he can't help but wonder how something that feels so right, could ever be so wrong, only to throw all of those thoughts out of his head before they can take away this newfound feeling of hope filling his chest.

Maybe life isn't as bad as he thought.

← 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 — 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 — 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 →

(A/N: and here it is 💀 i know you guys had quite high expectations of this and i'm sorry for deciding against a proper smut scene last minute but i feel like it wouldn't have matched the vibe 😭 thank you ao much for all the love, you guys are the best. i love you sm 🥺🧸 feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!🩷🧸)

TAGLIST CLOSED: @soonigiri @thvhannie @enhaz1 @kpoprhia @abrazosolorcereza @deobitifull @mixtape-racha @certifiedmoa @jungwon-xo @hoonieluv @enhamysunshines @jaehoonii @pussyslayerhd @ineedsomezzz @neocockthotology @heerinnie @onionzzzs @hee-pster @3amstarlight @xxxxrvexxxx @primroselover @mimikittysblog @iea-tsand @lhspeachie @xiaoderrrr @viagumi @smg-valeria @kells5595 @heeseunghee7 @xrvrqs @ddazed-lhs @heebrry @fakeuwus @dammit-jjk @ivyannemarie @thekinkpopstandsforkrackheads @s00buwu

#enhypen social media au #enhypen writers #enhypen x reader #lee heeseung x reader #heeseung social media au #enhypen smut #enhypen fluff #enhypen angst #heeseung smut #heeseung

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kiss-me-muchoo · 5 months ago

Text

𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 || 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎’𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

part one: hurt me, it’s okay || part two: here

summary_ Spiderman and Spiderwoman from earth 1610 met by casuality, she goes back to the Spider Society, reunites with Miguel and while he debates telling her she’s in his canon events, Spiderwoman makes a decision, to help Miles Morales.

warnings_ age gap! (8/9 years), angst, not a lot of scenes with Miguel, slight canon divergence

note_ listen to my playlist for Miguel!!!!! (Proofreading this later)

♪ ♫ My Miguel O’Hara playlist ✰ Index (+ fics here)

𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ 𓆇🕸️𓆸⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ 𓆇🕸️𓆸⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ 𓆇🕸️𓆸

Time healed everything for sure. A prolonged smile rests on your face as you walk through the streets of Brooklyn, New York. Summer is around the corner and you are visiting the state with your parents. But you decided to take an afternoon walk after dinner with them. As the weeks progressed, soon they turned into two months. Deep inside your heart, you resented most of your past. But you did your best to let go of the pain, to forgive Gwen, Jess, Peter, and Miguel.

Some nights you went to sleep with him in your thoughts, wondering if he’d also be thinking of you. Perhaps he cared for you and he sent you home for your security, but… he was so cold, so indifferent towards you. Which only confirmed… it was only you who felt everything.

Either way, many things had happened. In two months, you have changed a lot. You grew quieter, reserved, and slightly insecure. The spiderwoman suit was left behind at the back of your closet. But something told you to bring it to your New York trip.

One thing’s sticking to you, of what Miguel said to you once, about never being ready to assume the role of being a spider. You immediately learned it after losing your best friend.

You got scared, hands covered in blood, sirens quickly approaching the scene, your friend whispering to you to go, that it was going to be fine, to keep going. But the trauma only made you grow mixed feelings towards your abilities.

Till the day you realized you were capable of opening portals and traveling across dimensions without a gizmo. Like a ghost moving through dimensions, you started doing your job. Remembering your best friend’s words; you kept going.

The temporary barrier you made for your earth was still holding you back, secure from your past, working on the present. Earth - 1610 already had a Spiderman, so their Spiderwoman would serve outside. As soon as the barrier was broken, you knew it was a matter of time before they came for you. And you knew well, if they came, it was because things were going bad.

But for now, you are having a break.

Your smooth steps are calmed and you are feeling relaxed. The city is extremely crowded and you realize how different it is from California. But your gaze lands on something that reminds you of home; a pastelería. As you read they have conchas, elotitos, mantecado, and more, the smell invades you.

Your smile grows bigger as you step closer, and before you can even try to open the door of the place, someone opens it from inside.

“fuck…” you grunt as you feel the impact of the door in your nose.

“Oh no, I’m so sorry, I’m in a rush and…” When you look up, you see a kid well, a teenager, who’s taller than you.

Your spider senses connect with him.

“You’re like me…” says the boy.

“You’re the Spiderwoman from California. I thought it wasn’t real!” you frown at him, then slowly nodding.

“And you’re Spiderman too… How old are you?” He’s wearing an oversized jacket, and he holds two boxes of cake.

“I’m fifteen. And you? How long have you been Spiderwoman? Why aren’t you surprised? Why there have been three Spider-people on this earth?”

“Woah, boy, those are too many questions in one sentence. I’m y/n, I was bitten three months ago and I’m twenty, by the way” he nods, looking at the boxes in his hand before looking at you again.

“I’m Miles, and I’m running late. Come with me, please”

“I’m a stranger”

“Oh please, you don’t meet spider people every day,” Miles says and you sigh, remembering you used to be part of the Spider Society.

“I can’t just follow you. Besides, Where?”

“My home. It’s my father’s celebration, he’s getting promoted, he’s a cop” You nod, but still unsure, feeling your nose throb and knowing you have to go back to the hotel with your parents.

“That’s nice, but they don’t know me, neither you do.”

“Please, I bet you don’t have anyone else to talk to about this?” you used to have many people. You fell in love with one of those. But now, Miles is right, so you nod, agreeing with him.

“Just say that you used to study with me at Visions Academy” You nod, feeling that it wasn’t a good idea to go with the kid, but it felt correct.

“Fine, but I won’t stay long enough” the boy smiles, feeling very happy and confused about meeting you.

So to his home, it’s rushed. Miles tells you that he fought a very strange villain that morning, a man who had spots all over his body. He also shares that he’s having some trouble with keeping his secret from his parents.

By the time you arrive at his apartment complex, you realize maybe it wasn’t that much of a bad idea to follow him.

…

For a long time, you had stopped caring about being alone in random places. But Miles had a tough argument with his parents and there you were left in the party where you were the stranger. You ignore the curious looks of the attendants, eyes locked on the two tables full of Puerto Rican food. You grab two alcapurias and after the taste of one, you realize they are to die for. The party is very pretty despite the awkward moment where Miles bolted away after the fight.

“Hi!… Miles said he brought an old friend from school, you are…” Startled, when you turn, you encounter Rio, the mother of Miles.

“I’m y/n” You are beyond embarrassed, with your mouth full of food and sweaty hands.

“Right, y/n. ¿Y hablas español?” Rio asks, her arched brow lets you know she’s judging, but thankfully you will make her happy.

“Así es, mi familia y yo somos chicanos, de California. And I’m so sorry for intruding like this, Mrs. Morales” The woman’s smile grows and you swear she wants to hug you.

“Oh, that’s amazing. You are unlike that other friend of Miles… Wanda. You can call me Rio” You nod, accepting her hand to shake. But all you can think about is that name… you have heard it before.

“And don’t get me wrong, Miles said you were older and you look responsible… but… please be honest with me” You leave the now empty plate on the table because the woman seemed to be serious.

“Is Miles in trouble? Because… he’s been very… difficult. He skips classes, lies to us, and-“

“He’s a good boy. I promise, he loves his parents and wants to make them happy. But he’s under pressure. I promise, Rio, he’s a good boy” Despite meeting Miles two hours ago, you know he’s good. You know he wants to do well, and you know what it is to be hiding your spider persona from your loved ones.

Rio nods, offering a little smile.

“I’m really glad to meet you. I’ll let you go now, pero que sepas que eres bienvenida siempre que quieras” you smile, feeling how good of a mother Rio was. So you nod, waving at her as she walks away.

“Gracias, Rio. Y la comida está riquísima!” she giggles, waving back at you, finally disappearing from your view.

Soon you turned to the food again, now it was time for dessert, which made you get lost and only pay attention to the food. When you look up, you see that the sky has started changing. It was getting very late, so you let your parents know you were still shopping and soon, that’s when you realized you hadn’t seen Miles since he fought with his parents.

You start looking around, the music is still playing and the party is alive. You start moving around when you bump into someone. The person holds you steady with very little pressure, preventing you from tripping or so.

“Woah, sorry… wait, y/n?” A female voice asks, when you raise your gaze, you are shocked. There is Gwen.

“Do you know each other?” Miles asks behind Gwen.

You panic, you panic. So you do what you best do, to bolt.

“I need to go, you know my number, Miles. You can call me whenever you want”

“Wait, y/n…” Miles calls you but you are already gone.

Gwen reveals that you worked in the Spider Society. Miles was a bit angered with you for never reaching out to him. But Gwen also shared that you had been Spiderwoman for less than three months, that you had entered the society and she as your friend, failed you as the others too. And lastly, you had a tough story with Miguel O’Hara.

Miles understood you. And he followed Gwen after she left.

…

You are going back to your hotel with your parents when a hand pulls you to an alley, it is Gwen again. Now with her suit on.

“Oh my god, y/n, it’s you!” She takes off her mask and runs to hug you. And as much as you want to push her away, you hug her back.

“I missed you so much. We all miss you” She looks very excited to see you. And you want to say that you missed her too, but you’re proud and stubborn, so you don’t.

“Why are you here, Gwen? And why do you know Miles?”

“A lot has happened. I promise to tell you everything, but please come back. For now, there’s this anomaly that I need to catch” he shows you her gizmo, and the little hologram of a white creature with dark spots appears.

“That’s the villain Miles mentioned earlier”

“And how do you know him? You said you didn’t know who was the other spider man from this earth” you sigh.

“I met him like three hours ago”

“You need to come back. Miguel was checking daily to see if the temporary barrier you made was broken. You really really need to talk with him” Rolling your eyes, you hear her. But deep inside, you are dying to know everything, every little detail.

“Gwen, I won’t lie that it didn’t hurt me what happened. I felt betrayed. But now I’m happy with the life I have. Despite everything… I’m trying to move on” You don’t have the heart to tell her that you resent everyone a little, that you don’t need a gizmo to travel and save people from other dimensions. And you won’t tell her that as much as Miss Miguel, you won’t give him the satisfaction to go back.

“I’m begging you, y/n. We need you…” suddenly, the tiny hologram of Lyla appears and starts moving around you; smiling.

“OH MY GOD, Y/N!!!, YOU’RE HERE, MIGUEL IS GOING TO FREAK OUT… but don’t tell him I revealed that” You find the humor in her words, so you giggle.

“Hello, Lyla. I love your new glasses” she winks.

“Gee thanks, I also love your new hair”

“Yeah, it’s longer.” Gwen agrees with the AI.

“You’re coming with us, right?” Lyla asks, making you sigh.

“I will accompany Gwen to capture the anomaly, but I won’t go back to the HQ if that’s what you two are inquiring” you calmly say, walking beside a trash can to take your suit, perfectly folded inside your purse.

“You have to be kidding. Besides what happened with Miguel, Hobie, Ben, Pavitr, Penny, Noir, Jess and everyone misses you a great deal. You were a very popular spider, you know?”

“Yeah, Miguel is my problem. I deeply resent him and I’m not afraid to admit it” you reveal.

“I swear he wants you back. He has a lot to say to you, Would you come back just to… At least listen to him?… we have a life or death situation growing as the Spot is out there free” Lyla fires back. You shrug, not thinking clearly before slowly nodding.

There are so many things to think about, but you have already nodded.

“I-… I’ll go, but you have to let him know. I don’t want an awkward reunion” Gwen nods excitedly, and Lyla also nods.

“Great, I’ll tell him. Now go, Miguel won’t be happy with you Gwen” and then, the AI disappears.

Oh man, what have you agreed to?

…

To say you had the eyes of the whole world on you, was exaggerated. But at least the eyes of every single spider at the HQ, we’re looking at you.

Some stare, some greet you with enthusiasm and others offer confused smiles. When you arrived in Mumbattan with Gwen, Pavitr gave you a huge hug and didn’t let you go for many seconds. And when Hobie appeared, as the man of few words you knew he was, still shocked you with a long pat on the shoulder and admittedly said he missed you.

“This is so cool, I can’t believe you quit” Miles whispered to you. The teenager also appeared on Pavitr’s earth and you were highly impressed by his abilities.

“They kicked me out” you revealed, Miles looked surprised and Jess heard you, but you avoided her gaze. Back from Mumbattan to the HQ, Jessica rarely spoke to you. Instead, you spent the time with Miles, who had so many questions; and you wished you could just blurt out everything, but you wouldn’t.

“You don’t know the whole story, y/n,” Gwen said, joining the conversation.

“I think I pretty much know most of it. That’s enough…” while you didn’t pretend to sound so cold, you did.

“Please have patience with Miguel. But listen to him…” Jess also adds, you only eye her, but you don’t say anything else, you just nod.

It was at that moment that you realized how freaked out you were to meet Miguel again.

“For sure, Jessica. Just like he listened to me the last time I saw him” the woman looks down with remorse, but you don’t see it because you turn back at the way that Gwen leads.

Everyone can sense that while you are being respectful, there was bad blood running through every corner and step you were taking.

Miles thought you were very bright and sweet, but once you entered the portal and stepped inside the HQ of the Spider Society, your demeanor changed, showing you bitterly defensive and cold.

“Here we are…” Gwen says pushing a button that opens what you remember being Miguel’s office.

“I need a minute…” you say staying behind everyone. Only Hobie stayed beside you.

“You got this, Luv,” he says. And you love that words were not needed with Hobie, he completely understood you.

“If anything happens, you know where to stand, Hobie” he nods after entering the dark room.

You sigh, taking long breaths, mentally preparing for what is coming. It could end well, or badly.

And you had a bad feeling about it.

…

The bad feeling got worse.

Miguel couldn’t stop looking at you. He couldn’t hide the surprise on his face when he saw entering his office along with Peter B. Parker.

You can’t stand the man trying to shamelessly blame a fifteen-year-old. At some point, you know, it’s enough.

“Even if Miles hadn’t been bitten, earth-42 would have remained without a Spiderman. So don’t you dare to keep blaming him” Miguel turns, and you can see and feel he’s getting mad, but you don’t care. You couldn’t care less.

Maybe your heart cared, but your head was winning.

“It’s more complex than that, y/n.”

“Yeah, it worked out when you sent me home without telling me why” Lyla pops out around the shoulder of Miguel and looks worriedly between you and the broad man.

“Woah, Miguel, maybe you should tell her about that…” you frown, looking at the AI.

“Tell me what?”

“It doesn’t matter now, Lyla.” Your head wonders what could it mean, but you brush it away, so you turn again towards Miguel, looking at him with fury.

“I don’t need your stupid gizmo, I don’t need the Spider Society and I don’t need you, Miguel” you spit with anger and confidence, but everyone knows you actually need your friends, and that you are ignoring the feelings you had for Miguel.

“And look where your recklessness brought us. You are a threat and Miles is an anomaly”

“Most of the spiders here were recruited at their lowest points in life. You have manipulated everyone, admit it. You are forcing a narrative to achieve your assets.” His eyes shine bright with crimson anger. He wants to scream at you so bad, you know.

“Calm down, y/n… please” Jess tries to soothe the rising tension but it doesn’t work. When you look around, there’s already a lot of people, all ready to jump and attack in case of need.

“I will never stay quiet again. And to be a mother, Jess, neither you should” She lowers her gaze. You feel a little shame for her, as a grown woman who can’t seem to be able not listen to Miguel for once.

“You need to comprehend this isn’t entirely about you. This is about Miles and your constant travels causing a major disturbance in canon” Jess explains coldly, which makes you even more enraged.

“Yes, and we can save everyone. You don’t know how I’ve seen canon without the gizmo and the premonitory models” Your heart beats faster than ever, and you swear you are passing the edge of stability before collapsing into a panic attack.

“Not always we can save everyone” Peter B. Parker reminds you.

“Peter, please. Please understand me, out of everyone… I know you understand me” the man sighs, and you stare at her daughter. Peter knows it, he looks down at Mayday and knows you have a point.

“The Spot is going to destroy everything…” you almost whisper to one of your old closest friends. You have hope, that you’ll remind him. He looks at you deeply, before turning away, breaking your heart a little.

“I’m sorry, y/n. But you need to stay here” You feel Miguel’s giant hand on your shoulder, so you quickly turn, moving away, standing beside Miles. Miguel shows you he has no other intentions with his hands, he wants oh so desperately to make you understand his point, but he is blind to see or hear yours.

So in the blink of an eye, Miles and you have an obstructed view, reddish and glitchy. Both realize you have been caged, and stare at each other in panic.

Gwen and Peter jump to argue with Miguel, questioning why he had to do that.

“It’s okay, it’s okay” you whisper to Miles, who starts panicking. Hobie gets closer and you elbow Miles to see what he wants.

“Oi oi, Peter Pan. Use the hands…” you turn away, encountering Miguel, who also stares back at you.

“I hate you…” you spit with anger towards him.

“I never wanted any of this to happen, but It’s the best for our canons, only you could potentially destroy The Spot” you frown.

“Ours?…” he stays silent.

“Yes. And I’m sorry, kid” he adds, walking away with Gwen and Peter still at him complaining for caging you and Miles.

“Stop calling me that”

Your head spins, and you hear Jess, Hobie, Gwen, and Miguel speaking at the same time. But Miles has a plan, he gives you a quick look and you get it.

Smart boy.

So you nod, giving him a reassuring smile.

The electricity that envelopes his hands soon invades and infects the cage. The adrenaline keeps building up in your system. Your eyes slowly start to glow as you prepare for the impact.

Boom. The silence is scary.

Miles looks at you when you both are free from the cage.

It’ll be dangerous, very risky. But you got this

You look at how everyone starts moving after the impact. Your eyes lock with Miguel’s, and he knows you will follow the kid. And he can’t lose you again.

Don’t stop running, Miles” you tell him, he nods.

“MILES!, Y/N!” Miguel yells as soon he sees you bolt with the kid.

Time passes so fast, you don’t have time to breathe. You can’t hear what Gwen, Jess, Peter, and other spiders are trying to tell you to stay put.

“You need to hear, y/n” Peter yells. But you ignore them, and you keep running. Miles took his own route, and you realized many spiders were going after you and the teenager, you knew Miles had a plan.

“Y/n, please!” Gwen begs you, watching how you shoot a web to swing away.

As you slide through the buildings with your webs, your senses alert you. When you look back, as the wind messes with your hair and a few ones stick in your forehead, you get startled. Miguel is coming for you.

He looks incredibly intimidating, his pace is ridiculously faster than anything you have seen before.

“Shoot” you mumble before returning to keep running away. You spot Miles again, which makes you quicken your pace.

You can feel Miguel behind you, only increasing your heartbeats. There are so many things you wish you could say. So many things he could’ve done, but you remember he never loved you.

Jess can get by your side, she throws a sharp kick that you dodge successfully. But she doesn’t give up, she punches your ribs and you can tell she didn’t mean to actually hurt you, but she’s doing everything to stop you from running. Thankfully Miles gets in the way and is more than enough to give you the advantage.

Once you realize you are in an imaginary railroad that keeps going up and up, you fear the height, but seeing all the people you once considered family coming at you as if you were the biggest atomic danger, makes you want to go back in time. Being a Spiderwoman was a responsibility that you wished it never came.

“You have to stop!” You feel a hand grabbing you by the arm, and the next thing is your body getting stamped against the surface. You open your eyes to see Miguel, his mask disappears and you are only able to get a big breath under the strong gaze of his mahogany eyes.

“You won’t try to manhandle my life. You already did it once” you spit, trying to squirm away from his giant hand holding you still.

“There’s a reason…” he yells with desperation since Miles could break his webs at any second.

“WHAT IS IT THEN?” You yell back. You are tired of their secrets and claiming it was for the best but avoiding sharing the truth.

“Y/n…” Miguel is pleading, he is fighting so hard the urge to explode in anger. Just for you, he needs to keep it together.

“JUST SAY IT, MIGUEL!”

“I JUST CAN’T LOSE YOU AGAIN!” His forehead brushes yours and it weakens your heart. The physical contact is sudden but feels so right. You sigh, feeling his warmth.

You know what is right and what is wrong. You eye Miles who looks at you with fear. You will not deny you still love the man in front of you. So you embrace your free hand with his cheek. He melts into your touch, savoring the moment you lean forward, whispering into his ear.

“My feelings for you haven’t changed. But you never got me back, Miguel” you reveal, caging him with your most potent webs, putting on your mask, breaking free from his touch.

Miles nods at you, to which you only reply with a little smile. You will help him, you can feel it’s what is correct. And under a Quick Look at Miguel who seems shocked by your actions, you let yourself fall.

The prolonged free fall feels like you can breathe again, you have decided, not them. Perhaps you did not know what was that thing that everyone kept debating whether to tell you or not.

The Spiderman of 2099 doesn’t think twice. He immediately goes after you and the kid who almost deactivated his suit. Miguel is confident that he’s doing things right. He can’t risk losing more people. And he can’t risk a possible future with you. It sounded selfish, but Miguel swore to never break canon again, and it was demanding him to be happy with a partner, he couldn’t say no. Even if he was forcing it the wrong way.

Perhaps your heart still lounged to beat in the signature tune with Miguel. But one thing was for sure, you would help Miles. Even when you realized he was sent to earth-42, that you were back in New York of 1610, you would keep the promise of helping him. The Spot was about to danger everyone, but you had to try. You remember all the broken promises, the deceptions and you realize you have to keep going. Letting behind what your heart desired. Miles had to forge his own destiny, and in that way, you would forge yours too.

_____________________________

I’m so excited for my next Miguel writing. I’m mixing both option I gave in my last poll and it’s gonna be bff to lovers.

Two years ago I had a crash (I still can’t drive), last year I got The Eras Tour concert tickets and today I was notified that my associates degree has been posted.

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara smut #atsv miguel #miguel 2099 #miguel o’hara smut #spiderman atsv #atsv x reader

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tsunami-of-tears · 8 months ago

Text

Wingspans

Poly+ ACOTAR Week 2024 - Day 5 (Favourite Tropes)

Cazriel x Healer Reader

Summary: Y/N is eager to learn more about the Illyrians - for healing purposes of course.

Pairing Masterlist

Wordcount: 3.2K

A/N: I had an idea and it ran away from me, hence the title change.

This entire week features some of my favourite tropes (idiots in love and everyone else can see it, aphrodisiacs, friends to lovers, etc) but I’ve focused on wings for this part, along with one bed at the end for a treat 😘

Warnings: wing clipping; female healthcare issues; allusion to domestic abuse; domestic mate stuff; multiple smut scenes (wingplay, PiV, double penetration).

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ:

Reader

For as long as you can remember, you’ve been fascinated with wings.

Every pair you’ve come across has been uniquely beautiful and awe-inspiring, but the thing you envied most about winged fae was their ability to fly.

You have your father to thank for that - for inheriting the call of the wind. A call you’d never been able to answer.

Now, thanks to the Cauldron, you were blessed with two winged mates.

The three of you had been edging around the bond since it snapped a few weeks ago. It hadn’t been formally accepted yet as you all agreed to get comfortable with the dynamic first.

Since you started courting Cassian and Azriel, your fascination with their wings only grew.

You would watch how the strong muscles flex as they carried you in the sky. You would admire them stretching out in the warmth of the sun.

You also started to notice the little quirks both of your mates had.

When they are cold, they tuck their wings in closer to their frame; when Azriel is proud of something, he holds his wings up higher; and when Cassian laughs, his wings flutter as his shoulders rise and fall.

There’s also the quirks during sex.

The subtle twitch and the slight curling of the outer edges as they reach their climax.

Learning about how their wings worked would only make you a better healer, so you spend your limited free time pouring over medical journals and reading Madja’s notes from over the years. The theory was a good foundation, but the best way for you to learn is with practical experiences.

The first time you got to touch them was with Azriel. He had caught you staring at his wings.

He was training on the rooftop of the House of Wind, his wings were fully extended behind him. The sunlight glowed red through the thin membrane. They were captivating.

A few shadows hurry over to greet you, like a playful puppy nipping at your feet.

Azriel turns, smiling at you and catches your gaze. “What are you staring at?” he smirks.

“Your wings are mesmerising,” you say softly.

Azriel stretches them out wider for you, showing off his wingspan before giving you a wink and returning to his training.

He stopped by your clinic later where you were reading through a detailed tome about wing physiotherapy. You were so engrossed in the text, that you didn’t see him slip in.

You jump when you finally notice him towering above you. “Cauldron, you scared me Az.”

“I’m sorry, you make a cute face when you're concentrating, I didn’t want to interrupt. What are you reading?” Azriel walks around to your side of the desk, looking down at the scrawled handwriting filling the pages in your hands. He smirks down at you. “Is there a particular reason that you’re so obsessed with wingspans, Y/N?”

Your cheeks heat, and you look up at Azriel. “I want to be prepared… If the need arises.” You glance at the sharp talons poking over your mate’s broad shoulders.

He leans down and flicks through a few pages of the tome. “The diagrams are good but it’s not quite the same,” he says. “Do you want to examine my wings?”

“Are you sure? I know they are quite sensitive. I don’t want to cross any line.”

The corners of his mouth curl upwards at your apprehension. “It is in my favour to help you, so you can heal me if need be. But, there’s no one I trust more.”

————

Azriel had removed his shirt, allowing you access to his back and wings. His wings were spread, the leathery membrane taut between each bone. Your fingertips delicately traced each ridge as Azriel expanded and contracted his muscles.

Your hands are warm with your healing magic as you gently stroke them against the sensitive skin. Azriel’s knuckles turn white as he grips the tabletop he’s braced against. You can tell it’s taking all of his self-control not to fuck you then and there.

When you ran the edge of his wing between your thumb and index finger, he snapped. Azriel spun around, grabbing your hips and lifting you onto the workbench behind you.

Azriel’s lips are on yours, hurried and hungry as he takes your lower lip between his teeth. You gasp against his mouth as he bites down before kissing along your jawline.

His hands roam your body, branding your flesh with need.

You fumble with the button on Azriel’s pants as he hikes up your dress and pushes your panties to the side. His fingers dip straight in, your core already soaked and throbbing.

You had known exactly what you were doing when you started examining his wings…

You finally free Azriel’s cock from the constraints of his leathers, and he grinds his hips against yours.

Your lips find each other again as he ruts into you; not waiting to let you adjust, you don’t need to. Your veins are filled with lust as he pounds into you. The steady rhythm combined with his thumb on your clit sends you over the edge.

One hand grips behind his neck tightly as you climax, and you reach with the other to run your fingers along the inside of his wing. That stroke was his undoing, and he finished deep inside you.

You feel his cock twitching as you stay in your embrace, regaining your breath.

“Fuck, Y/N, that was…” Azriel pants, kissing your forehead tenderly.

“That was a breach of the healer/patient relationship,” you laugh.

Azriel smirks, “You can take advantage of me any day, angel.”

————

The next time, you tried it with Cassian.

He was underneath you as you rode him. Your hands flat on his chest for support as you rocked back and forth.

You looked at his wings splayed beneath him, and then to his eyes - a silent question.

“I’m all yours, you can touch anywhere you want, angel.

He grips your hips harder, lifting his to meet your thrusts.

You softly trace along a prominent vein and Cassian throws his head back, moaning loudly.

He thrusts up into you without abandon, hitting the spot that has you seeing stars and reaching your climax together.

The sound of your breathing fills the room as you lay down in Cassian’s arms. Your head resting on his chest. He kisses the top of your head. “I’ll never tire of this,” he whispers against your hair.

————

Soon after that fateful training exercise, you began working closely with the Valkyries. If any conflict arose, you’d be stationed with them as a healer. The all-female unit had grown to 50 warriors in the years since its revival. With Nesta now residing in Autumn with Eris, the unit is led by Gwyn and Emerie.

The first time you met Emerie, your heart broke.

Her wings were nothing like the mighty appendages held high by your mates.

They were beautiful but brutal.

Thick jagged scars cut across the planes of her wings, starting at the very base. Her wings had very limited movement, and on cold mornings, you notice a slight twinge in the left one.

Still, Emerie carried herself proudly with her wings as tall as she could manage. A true Valkyrie.

After observing her from afar, your research changed direction. You were driven by your new purpose - helping your friend and the countless females like her.

There were limited existing resources on clipped wings, so you proposed a clinical study to Rhys. He issued approval instantly and, to Lord Devlin’s dismay, he set up a clinic in Windhaven for you to meet with patients.

Many females were scared to visit you, out of fear of retaliation from their husbands and fathers. But there were still many brave souls who came forward, allowing you to examine them.

Progress was slow, but both the physical and emotional support you provided was making a difference.

————

Today you had a female visiting from another camp. You walk into the waiting room with a warm smile on your face. You’re always so proud to see new patients.

“Victoria? I’m Y/N, your new healer. Please come inside.” You say to the female.

She gives you a shy smile, lowering her gaze as she walks past you into your office.

“Thank you for making the trip to see me. I will do my best to help you, however I can. Take a seat on that cot there,” you gesture towards the bed in the middle of the room. You meet her eyes as you continue, your voice filled with sincerity. “I want you to remember this is entirely on your terms. I will only touch you, or offer treatment with your consent, do you understand?”

Victoria nods, brushing a single tear from her cheek at your words.

“Good. If it’s okay, I’d like to see the extent of the damage. Can you show me your range of movement?” You give Victoria an encouraging nod. “Lift, wonderful. Now lower them. You’re doing amazing. And now extend them as far as you can outwards - like you’re stretching.” You demonstrate with your arms, extending them out to the side.

Victoria’s wings shudder slightly as she strains to stretch them out but they barely shift.

“You’re doing so well, I know this is difficult. Can I touch you? I want to get a feel of the scarring if that’s okay.”

She nods hesitantly.

“If you want me to stop at any time, please tell me.”

“Okay,” she says. The first words you heard from her mouth.

“I’m just letting my magic get a sense of the damage, my hand might feel cool along the inner side of your wings.” You move to stand behind Victoria and start on the biggest scar. The tissue is jagged and bumpy, and as pale as the moon. Your healing magic flows through you, washing over the surface of the scar but unable to penetrate. This is the worst case of wing clipping you’ve seen so far. You aren’t sure how much movement she’ll be able to regain, but you have to try.

You walk around the cot to face her and finish your consultation, asking all your standard questions about pain and mobility.

You pick up a glass jar filled with a numbing salve. “I’d like you to start by applying this to the scars once a day.” You demonstrate the amount of product to apply before handing over the jar. “If you’re particularly sore you can apply it a second time. You may need some help reaching around the back, do you have someone at home that you trust?”

“I live with my sister and her family. She’ll help,” Victoria says.

“Okay good, if you do need somewhere to stay during the treatment, it can be arranged. And if you don’t feel safe, we can help with that too.”

Victoria nods in thanks.

“I’ll see you again in 4 weeks. If you run out of the salve, send word.”

“Thank you, Y/N.” Victoria smiles at you, looking more hopeful than when she first arrived. You help her into her coat and escort her out of the clinic.

Once outside, you look up and see the sky is swirling with storm clouds and the sun is just about to dip behind the mountains. The wind howls through the surrounding trees. A big gust hits you and you feel the ice in your very bones.

You bid goodbye to Victoria and trudge home. On clinic days you often stay in Rhys’s mother’s cabin with your mates.

Warmth envelops you as you step over the threshold, along with the smell of your mates and a hot dinner.

You kick off your boots and giggle as shadows help you with your coat. Cassian is standing over the stove as Azriel sets the table. Azriel stops what he’s doing to kiss you hello.

“How was your day, angel?” Azriel asks.

“It was good. I had a new patient, it always breaks my heart to see the trauma that’s been inflicted.” You instinctively reach for Azriel’s hand, stroking the back with your thumb. “I hope I can ease that pain, even just a little bit.”

“You’re doing such great things,” Cassian says, juggling the three bowls and a bottle of wine. You and Azriel quickly reach out to help him and sit down together.

“We’re so proud of you,” Azriel states, adoration across his face.

You smile back. “I do have you both to thank for all of this. I’ve worked with many kinds of wings before, but I think yours are the most fascinating.”

“What kinds of wings?” Cassian asks.

“Well, in Spring, many faeries have wings similar to insects. They are very delicate but they don’t have the same soft tissue and nerve ends. Then there are the Peregryns, they have fewer bones in their wings than Illyrians - but the feathers…” You laugh. “If you think Illyrians are protective of their wings, you should see a Peregryn if you touch their feathers.”

Azriel gives you a curious look, “Do you have much experience with Peregryns?”

“Mostly just my father, but I didn’t get to see him very often,” you answer plainly. Cassian nearly chokes on the wine he was sipping and Azriel’s eyes widen in shock.

“How have you never mentioned this?” Cassian asks you incredulously.

“I don’t know, it hasn’t come up. Obviously, I didn’t inherit any physical characteristics. I didn’t think it was important,” you shrug.

“Every part of your history is important,” Azriel says with complete sincerity.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t intentionally keep it from you.”

“I guess that explains how you took to flying so quickly,” Cassian remarks.

You shake your head at your mates as you return to your meal.

You finish up the cozy evening with Cassian and Azriel who had many questions for you about different wingspans. Namely, which race has the biggest. Even if it wasn’t the truth, you would have said Illyrians.

————

A few weeks later, Winter had well and truly arrived.

You’re in a distant Illyrian camp making some supply drops and home visits. Both Cassian and Azriel join you, using any excuse to spend more time with you.

It’s a relatively small camp, you have a handful of patients here so it’s only meant to be a quick stop. But, as the afternoon progresses, the weather takes a turn for the worse.

“We’ll have to stay here overnight,” Cassian says. “We can’t risk flying in a storm and Azriel can’t winnow with both of us.”

Fortunately, there is a rundown but warm inn just outside of the camp. Unfortunately, with the incoming snowstorm, all of the rooms are booked. All but one.

You enter the tiny room behind your mates who both need to bow their heads to fit inside. It would be a cramped lodging for two high fae but with three of you plus two pairs of wings…

Cramped is a severe understatement.

————

You get ready for bed as best as you can, manoeuvring around each other with great difficulty.

Finally you settle in, comforted by the warmth seeping into you from both sides.

The bond is still new, you’ve not been in such close proximity to your mates, with so few layers between you and not touched them.

The heat radiating off both Cassian and Azriel was driving you wild. And based on their strong scents, it was having the same effect on them.

Cassian’s groans break the silence. “Godsdamnit, Y/N. You’ll be the death of me.”

“I’m not doing anything!” You exclaim.

“That’s the point,” Cassian chuckles.

You decide to tease him further by pushing your butt back against him, rubbing against his hardening length.

Cassian groans again and wraps his arms around your waist, hands groping your breasts. Azriel leans on his forearm and locks eyes with you. You gasp as Cassian pinches your firm nipples and starts nipping at your earlobe. Cassian’s hand starts to trail lower, and you can’t hold in your moan as it slips down to your core, dragging through your growing wetness.

Desire overwhelms your senses. You don’t care about the space or lack thereof. You need your mates.

Azriel starts to palm himself, moaning softly as you send images down the twin bonds. Images of how you want them.

“Are you sure, angel?” Cassian whispers into your ear. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

You lean further into his embrace, “I’m sure. I need you both.”

You sit up and straddle Azriel, grinding your dripping slit against him. Azriel holds your hips firmly, pushing you down to provide more friction for both of you.

You look over at Cassian with slightly glazed eyes. You nod at him, confirming your desire.

He kneels on the bed behind you, there’s just enough room that he doesn’t hit his head on the low support beam. He squeezes your ass as he kisses down the side of your neck. Azriel starts circling your clit with his thumb as you continue to rock on top of him.

You lean forward slightly, hands braced on Azriel’s chest as Cassian drags his cock along your slit, collecting your arousal.

Azriel positions himself at your entrance as Cassian lines up at your rear.

“Are you quite sure, angel?” Cassian asks again.

“Yes… Please,” you whine softly.

Azriel lowers your hips, burying himself inside you as you both moan at the tightness. Your eyes flutter at how full you feel, and Cassian hasn’t penetrated you yet.

You feel pressure against your rear as Cassian pushes against you. “Are you ready?” He asks.

You nod in answer, already struggling for words.

Azriel resumes his steady circles as Cassian pushes into you. The stretching sensation is so intense you let out a strangled cry. “Are you okay?” Cassian asks.

“Yep, I just need a moment to adjust.”

Cassian resumes kissing your jaw as your body gets used to the full feeling.

“I’m ready,” you say and Cassian starts to slowly move in and out.

Azriel starts thrusting, matching Cassian’s timing.

“So full,” you moan, your eyes rolling back into your head as the pleasure overwhelms you.

With each thrust, your clit rubs against Azriel’s groin, bringing you closer and closer to that sweet release.

“Fuck, I’m not going to last long,” Azriel pants. Cassian moans in agreeance.

Your fingers gravitate to your nipples, pinching the sensitive nubs as you’re hurled to the finish line.

“Cum for us, angel,” Azriel commands, and you do.

You cry out as you hit your climax, louder than usual. Both your holes clench as your mates wring scream after scream of pleasure from you.

They both follow closely behind as you grip them tightly. As the moans and cries subside, the room is filled with the sound of panting.

Cassian pulls out of you first, collapsing beside Azriel.

Azriel helps lift you off of him and nestles you in between himself and Cassian. He kisses you lovingly as Cassian’s hand dips between your legs - using a washcloth to clean you up.

Once clean, he pulls you close to his chest and wraps his wings around you and Azriel.

Feeling content in your bubble with your mates, sleep finds you and takes you into its loving embrace.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･

Tags ♡ @littlestw01f @impossibelle @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @the-wall-willow @xasael @lilah-asteria @saltedcoffeescotch @mybestfriendmademe @therealmoonstone

#poly+acotarweek2024 #poly+acotarweek2024 d5 #poly!acotar #cazriel x reader #acotar #acosf #acotar fanfiction #acotar fic #a court of thorns and roses #acotar oneshot #acomaf

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verbenaa · 7 days ago

Text

to eden | chapter nine

𝓅𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔: Astarion/F! Tav 𝓇𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔: E 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉: 11.1k 𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: blowjobs 😎; canon-compliant, non-graphic mentions of SA 😔 (Astarion 😭)

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎: “Do you trust me, Astarion?” Rin asks. She’s waited patiently enough for weeks upon weeks upon weeks, she can easily manage another minute for a proper answer from him first.

He shivers just slightly under her touch as her hands still, and Astarion averts his eyes from hers for a moment before huffing a breath and returning her gaze.

“Stop asking me questions you already know the answer to.” The bite in his words is softened by their meaning, his swallow audible as he stares down at her, a veiled vulnerability shining in his eyes as they run over the planes of her face.

𝒶/𝓃: hello!!!!! apologies it took me so long to get this chapter completed. But it is finally done and I very much hope you enjoy it. Here's to chapter 10 taking me half the time to write as this one did. please let me know your thoughts down in the comments and I appreciate you all!!!

read on ao3 | masterlist

“Are you even listening to me?”

Rin blocks out the sound of Astarion, positively incensed about absolutely nothing of consequence, as he follows her around the grounds of the Last Light Inn, complaining rather loudly for her tastes.

She sighs as she trudges down one of the dirt paths leading away from the inn and back towards their camp, the area thankfully empty as he strides just behind her at a clipped pace.

“I stopped listening about five minutes ago, Astarion, when you decided to keep saying the same thing over and over again,” Rin says, annoyance sneaking into her words as she cuts a look back towards the angry vampire somehow managing to stomp elegantly after her.

“I’ll stop saying it over and over again when you realize that I am right.”

Gods, he could be so irritating.

While their encounter with Ketheric Thorm went surprisingly well and no one dared to second guess them in their ruse of pretending to be True Souls, Rin still felt somewhat unmoored by it all. The plot was thickening with a quickness and intensity she didn’t care for; something that was only growing more and more sinister brewing just beneath the surface, and she isn’t looking forward to figuring out whatever that something might be.

There’s a very large part of her the longs to run—to simply disappear into the darkness and never return; to sprint away from all of this madness, the constant battles, the sharp malice of it all.

Her life may not have accumulated to very much back in Baldur’s Gate—little money, the occasional performance at a shitty tavern, the more-than-occasional odd job for the Guild—but at the very least it was predicable in its unpredictability.

Sure, she didn’t always have the money that she quite desperately needed, but she always knew to expect the possibility of not having it. She always knew how to sweet talk her way into getting more time to pay her debts, how to charm the baker into giving her an extra roll or two, or when times were particularly tough, how to steal what she needed to without even getting caught (most of the time).

They were skills she had honed over a lifetime of living on the streets and in the murky shadows of the Lower City, things that she had worked hard to perfect to the best of her ability in order to survive. If there was one thing Rin knew, it was how to work to the system.

Thirty-four years in and she’s yet to meet a magistrate while draped in chains, so she must be doing something right.

But the only thing she can dare to expect these days is the unexpected.

And Rin is not a fan of unexpected things—unless said things happen to be a nice bottle of wine or a fancy necklace; though as far as she can remember, no one has ever gifted her much of anything.

“What exactly did you want me to do, Astarion?”

“We should have stayed longer,” he hisses towards her, eyes narrowed and lip curled menacingly. “There was more information we could have dug out. There were merchants we could have bought more weapons and potions from. There were plenty of things we could have done, and yet you had us running away scared. You even let those goblins fight for their lives instead of just killing them outright. Absolutely ridiculous.”

Clearly, she doesn’t see the issue the same as Astarion, because she couldn’t find a single problem with the plan. It was the sane, normal thing to do after such a covert operation. They were a rag-tag group of adventurers, not spies.

They had maintained their cover, eventually killed the goblins, talked to the decidedly awful Disciple Z’rell, and then got the hells out of there as fast as they could.

The memory of Z’rell searching through her mind draws a minute shiver to her form, the sensation of another tadpole clawing through her brain with a wave of energy and touching on the darker things she keeps hidden in the depths of her thoughts—old memories that were purposely forgotten, hopes that she had long given up on having, disappointments that had been left to languish in the corners like dusty cobwebs—had been very unwelcome, to say the least.

She hadn’t been expecting to have to defend herself against Z’rell’s invasion, and she hated having to use her desire for Astarion as a distraction, even it if had worked.

It had left her feeling as though she had been stripped bare, like some raw part of her had been left exposed to salt.

She didn’t dare to show Z’rell any of the truly illicit memories, for the half-orc certainly didn’t deserve to see Astarion in such a way and Rin was not about to put his body on display for her, even within the relative safety of her own mind or for the sake of the mission.

Thankfully, she had plenty of other memories to use to showcase her more…amorous feelings about him.

The memory of him crowding her up against a cave wall, the feeling of his lips on her neck as he kissed it seconds before biting in, his lips claiming hers for the first time in the forest clearing what feels like forever ago, his fingers removing her armor piece by piece in the Underdark as heat had begun to curl in her belly…she could, theoretically, probably go on for forever.

Rin breathes out a frustrated breath, attempting to steady herself as she turns around to face Astarion with little thought, and he pulls up short to avoid running into her, stopping right before they collide.

“Here’s the thing. You are not in charge because you did not want to be, and so now I am. And as such, I made a decision to leave, and so we did. If you don’t like it, Astarion, then by all means, go march your way back to Moonrise and have a look around, if you’d like.”

Rin is careful to annunciate her every word as her finger pokes in the center of his chest, eyes steely as she glares up at him.

“But,” she continues, “in the event that you decide to not trot off back to that hellish place, can you please tell me how to possibly shut you up now? Because as much as I honor and appreciate your opinion, I am tiring of hearing it.”

Astarion casts a slow look down at the finger resting innocuously against him before dragging his gaze back up to hers, brow raised alongside the casual arrogance painted on his face.

Rin knows she couldn’t look any less threatening—camp clothes slightly wrinkled from where she had pulled them on hurriedly after bathing, her hair still slightly damp, and at least a full head shorter than Astarion.

Anger has never been her strong suit, she’s far better at using the written word as a weapon than she is at yelling, and she realizes she probably has all the intimidation of a hissing cat rather than something terrifyingly ferocious and beautiful.

At the very least, the letter she writes him later tonight will be properly vicious—or at least her version of it. She’s not sure she’s capable of the raw rage of someone like Karlach or the steel-sharpened vitriol of Lae’zel, but she can at least use several choice adjectives to describe him that she has no doubt will irritate him.

“Well, if you don’t want to hear it then you shouldn’t make stupid decisions,” Astarion says through gritted teeth, claret eyes glaring down at her. “and if you want to shut me up, you’re going to have to make me.”

“‘Make you’? How old are you, ten?” She presses her finger into his chest harder as her patience thins, biting down on her lip hard in failed attempt to take a calming breath.

Her heart is still pounding in her chest even after a relatively relaxing bath, and Astarion yelling at her about it does not help one bit. She aches to wipe the smirk off his lips as her eyes dart down to them, the way they curve up into a maddening off-kilter smile one that burns itself into her memory.

The traitorous part of her mind, the one that won’t disappear no matter how hard she tries to banish it and instead only serves to grow stronger as if to spite her, taunts her to kiss him if she really wants to shut him up.

No better way to rid his mouth of that self-righteous smirk than by giving his lips something better to do instead, after all.

She had thought after that night, the one where he had so coldly thrown her out while still in the haze of their shared pleasure, that whatever it was that had been growing between them would be no more. It had seemed, at the time at least, that he wanted nothing more to do with her.

Instead, Astarion had shown up every night since at her tent.

And every single night, he’d ruined her.

It had become their new routine, apparently. Every night they start by the fire as they always do—talking, drinking, divulging secrets in one another; and then afterwards, he follows her back to her tent, sets her alight with his touch, only to leave when he’s done with her.

They make something that Rin thinks must be akin to love; although she’s never really made love with anyone else before, so what does she know?

Perhaps he simply fucks everyone like the way he does her.

The Traitor in her mind is quick to point out the falsehood that statement, reminding her that he didn’t lay with her at first like he does now. At first, there had been no mistaking what they were doing—it was sex, pure and simple, between two people indulging in a mutual curiosity and need.

Looking back, it feels like Astarion had barely even enjoyed their first few liaisons together, his actions mostly halfhearted and his mind barely present.

Now, though, there’s a marked difference in the press of lips, each and every one meaningful and every caress upon her skin intentional during the house they spend lost in one another.

She could no longer call it just sex, at least by her standards.

Rin didn’t know what to think.

And how could she know, when he comes to her and sends her into complete bliss with a touch that only seems to grow more reverent with every passing night, the look in his eyes when they twine together that of a fire only growing as if being fed by more and more fuel.

But no matter how rough or how gentle he handles her—his touch somehow both softer and more intense with each night that passes, no matter how passionate or sweet the presses of his lips are against hers are as they find their completion together—he never stays.

Astarion’s interests, it seemed, were only in her physical attributes.

She shouldn’t be surprised, in the end. She was nothing more than a half-rate bard whose skills amounted to little of importance, so she can’t quite blame him for not being interested in the rest of her.

She was no sagely wizard like Gale nor a noble warlock like Wyll. She patroned no cause like Shadowheart or Lae’zel, no matter how questionable Rin finds their worship and ideals.

She has no greater calling, no reason to be; neither a paragon of good nor an avatar of evil.

She simply exists, day to day, in whatever way she can make it through.

Perhaps if she were someone greater, someone of skill or importance, someone of knowledge; he would want her for more than just nights of shared passion.

The thought rankles something in her, though it shouldn’t. People like her weren’t meant for much more, and she’s never done anything to be worthy of things like tenderness, affection, or love.

If she were, then surely everyone else wouldn’t have left her. She wouldn’t have been abandoned if she’d been worth it.

Rin has nothing more to offer anyone but simply who she is—and who she is has never, ever been enough for anyone to ever take a chance on.

She’ll just have to make do with what she gets when it comes to Astarion, though he’ll no doubt leave her like all the rest when he’s had his fill of her.

But in the meantime, she’d rather have him in whatever way she can—in whatever way he will let her have him—than not get have him at all.

And so she gives in to that traitorous part of her brain, the one still whispering of all the ways she can distract him, of the limited chances she has to revel in his closeness, and makes her move.

“You know what, fine. You want me to shut you up? I’d love the honor.”

Rin flattens her hand against his chest and pushes before taking a step forward into his space. Astarion glances down at her hand once before gracing her with a very skeptically raised brow.

Slowly, Rin steps forward again and Astarion steps back; one step followed by another and then another as they walk backwards until his back hits the stone of the wall behind them, dirt and chipped rock crumbling onto the ground next to them.

“Many have tried, most have failed.” He’s devastatingly handsome with such a devious smile, and she almost hates the way it makes anticipation startle to life in her chest. Almost.

Rin keeps her hand where it is as a small smirk of her own forms on her lips. “Most have not been me.”

“Do tell, little bard, what is to be your perfect strategy, hm?” He’s teasing and taunting her again as his head leans down towards hers, eyes narrowed in challenge.

She’s not quire sure what sparks the idea in her head; but she blames it on her ever-evolving and only growing adoration of him—slightly painful to admit, despite being very, very true.

Regardless of whatever the reason is, she takes her chance.

No time like the present, they say.

“Maybe I don’t need to shut you up so much as I want to hear you say something else instead,” And for the first time, it’s her own register that drops, words hushed as her cheeks flush despite herself.

Astarion is quick to catch on, a knowing glint sparking to life in his eyes as he gleans something in her own gaze. In an instant, Rin feels an arm come to circle around her waist, dragging her closer to him until they’re flush together.

“And what is it that you have in mind, darling?” Her skin tingles where his hand rests upon her lower back, thumb brushing teasing strokes that send her mind swirling with a rush of delight at his touch.

Rin runs her hand up, drawing it across the expanse of his chest with enough pressure to make sure that he can feel the drag of it until it finds its home around his neck, her fingers curling into the hair at his nape.

She stays silent in the wake of his query, answering with only an innocent quirk of her lips before giving the path they’re standing on a quick, covert glance. She can see or hear no other being near them and, so long as they’re quick about it, she doubts anyone else will be coming this way.

Hopefully.

“I must say, I’m intrigued. Are you thinking what I think you are thinking?”

“I guess it depends on what you think I plan to do.” She flicks her gaze back to his.

“I think that you want to—” Astarion’s voice cuts off and the smirk falls from his lips as Rin slides the hand from around his neck down his front and she lowers with it.

Rin looks up at him from under lowered lashes as her knees hit the dusty earth below her with a soft thump and she runs her hands up and down his thighs in teasing passes, thumbs pressing into the muscles of them intently.

He looks momentarily bewildered at the sight of her before him, expression going slack as his brows knit in surprise. Clearly, of all the things he expected of her, dropping to her knees on a decently well-trodden pathway wasn’t one of them.

For all the times he’s tasted her, Astarion’s yet to give her the same opportunity and she has plans to fix such a terrible discrepancy. He has no idea how long she’s waited to worship him like this—to touch and taste and learn his body as well as he’s studied her own.

She wishes that she had more time to make such an important scholarly pursuit, and the privacy of one of their tents would be vastly preferable, but Rin was nothing if not adaptable.

“Do you trust me, Astarion?” Rin asks. She’s waited patiently enough for weeks upon weeks upon weeks, she can easily manage another minute for a proper answer from him first.

He shivers just slightly under her touch as her hands still, and Astarion averts his eyes from hers for a moment before huffing a breath and returning her gaze.

He’s flustered, and it’s an absolute wonder to see.

Her cheeks flush and her heart swells, despite that fact that she is technically still mad at him. Or at least she’s supposed to be.

She can’t feel her agitation quite as keenly as she could a few minutes ago.

Rin had lowered herself onto her knees for only a few people in her lifetime, the act one she couldn’t say she had the most practice at. Men were always so typical, shoving themselves into her mouth without care until they reached their end; it was no wonder she rarely offered herself up in such a manner.

But, Astarion—Astarion she knows will be different.

“I can’t promise to be the best you’ve ever had, but—”

“Don’t sell yourself so short.” Astarion cuts her off, his hand coming down to trace her jaw lightly as she looks up at him from beneath her lashes.

Rin leans her head slightly into his hand as it runs along the line of her face, turning slightly to press her lips against his fingers. “Is this alright, then? Will you let me suck your cock?”

Astarion’s thumb brushes along the plush of her lower lip, and she takes the opportunity to open her mouth and nip at it playfully.

“Do you think you can take it, darling?” His eyes darken as her lips encircle the tip of his finger and she sucks, Rin relishing the almost imperceptible intake of his breath.

“I guess we’ll just have to see what I can handle.”

“Well. By all means, then. Have at it,” Astarion says, eyebrows raising in smug challenge.

At his permission Rin’s hands jump to life, fingertips tracing up his covered thighs to hook into the waistband of his pants. She keeps her eyes on his as she slowly pulls them down, revealing his hardening length still hidden behind his underwear.

She leans in to press kisses to the defined line of muscles along his hips, nosing his shirt out of the way as she runs her lips over the indentations of each and every one of them as she slowly traces her way down, moving ever closer to where his member twitches with every press of her lips.

“I must say, our pretty little leader on her knees is quite a sight.” The words are meant to be easy, teasing; but the tightness in his voice belies any ease, his hips jumping as she traces her lips over the silhouette of him through his underwear.

Astarion chokes back a moan at the feeling and she smiles up at him, fingers playing at the edge of the final barrier between them before she begins to pull. Her fingers find his length once she’s freed it from his underwear, quick to run them down the velvet softness of his shaft as the deep green of her gaze meets the darkened ruby of his own once more.

“Only for you, Astarion.” Rin cuts off anything further he could have to say by leaning her head forward to press a searing kiss to the side of his erection before tracing her lips over his length.

The first touch of her mouth against his cock has him exhaling sharply, one of the hands at his side coming up reflexively to rest atop top her head, fingers sliding through her curls as his hips jump.

She wastes no time as she licks a line across his slit, the heady saltiness of him hitting her tongue as she brings a hand up to grip him at the base, pumping him gently in her palm.

“Does it feel good like this?” Rin swirls her tongue around the head of him, savoring her first real taste of his essence. “You’ll have to let me know how you like it, Astarion.”

His hand curls in her hair, brushing stray locks back from her face as he watches her mouth move along his length, tongue slicking across a vein before she finally wraps her lips around him.

“I assure you, you’re already doing a very, very good job.” He sags back against the crumbling stone facade of the wall as Rin takes him deeper into the warmth of her mouth, her hand pumping at the base of him as her lips work the rest that she doesn’t yet fit inside.

His praise sends a trail of heat straight to the core of her, pleasure of her own ebbing deep in her stomach as her thighs rub together. She leaves his length for no more than a second, adjusting her position on her knees before pressing more kisses to the side of him. “And this?”

Astarion moans as her lips envelop him once more, sucking at his cock with hollowed cheeks as she takes him in, her hand moving in time with her mouth as she begins to bob her head.

“Decidedly perfect technique,” He’s practically breathless as he speaks, eyes closing as his head falls back against the wall behind him with a dull thud.

His moans echo off the ancient stone as she sucks and licks and kisses his cock, pouring every ounce of her wayward affection for him into this moment.

Astarion, she’s learned, doesn’t give up his iron-clad self control very easily; and Rin’s not going to let herself think about what it means that he trusts her enough to let her take care of him, even if it’s only like this.

It’s intoxicating to have him so utterly undone as she alternates her ministrations, each and every one only serving to push him further and further to the brink as she laves at his length, pleasure flitting openly across his handsome face.

She should tell him to be quieter, but she doesn’t have it in her to halt those beautiful moans and breathy gasps leaving his mouth, not when she revels in the sound of them far too much.

Rin pops off him to take a breath, tongue running around the crown of him before she renews her attentions, swallowing him down deeper and taking as much of him as she can fit into her mouth.

Dots of crystalline tears settle on her lashes as the head of him brushes against the back of her throat, but the ragged moan he releases is more than worth it, another bolt of heat surging down to the place between her legs.

She’s lucky she cares nothing for her reputation, because being found on her knees in front of her most dubious companion with his cock shoved deep down her throat would most certainly ruin it.

“Such pretty noises you make, Astarion,” She hums as she pops off his cock, a string of saliva connecting her lips to his length as she breathes in another lungful of air. “Please don’t stop making them.”

The hands in her hair tighten as her mouth envelops the head of his length again and he whines, Rin once again savoring the tang of him as she sucks before taking him back into her mouth, deep again as he slides against her tongue.

“Fuck, darling—” She breaths through her nose as his thighs quiver, making sure to keep her mouth moving back and forth on his cock. “Don’t stop. Rin, sweetheart, I’m going to—”

Sweetheart. It was a new one from him, one that she finds that she likes.

Quite a lot.

He breaks off as Rin hollows her cheeks once more around him just as his cock hits the back of her throat again, stray tears breaking free to run down her cheeks and she can barely breathe with him like this in her mouth but can’t seem to find it in her to care.

The thrill of finally being able to taste him and to bring him to the edge of pleasure is one she knows she would do anything to feel again, the weight of his cock nothing short of exquisite in her mouth.

She gives him a final suck and Astarion comes down her throat with a wanton moan, hips bucking as his brows crease and he cries out his completion, the sounds of his ecstasy nothing short of beautiful as they ring off the rock and stone and dirt around them.

Rin swallows his come down as his body quivers and his hips rut into her, the hands in her hair tightening into a vice grip as he rides her mouth.

He tastes as perfect as she knew he would as words fall from his lips in a torrent—a chorus of praise, moans, and the occasional elvish word or phrase she doesn’t understand all flowing freely from his lips.

Rin lets him ride out his orgasm however long he pleases, a deep satisfaction coursing through her as she watches the pleasure painted across his features until his hips begin to slow and air he doesn’t need finally begins to return to his lungs.

“Dear Gods—” Astarion groans as his eyes open as the hands in her hair loosen and he stares down at her, one of them migrating down from her curls to her cheeks, softly brushing away the tears that have tracked down the planes of her face.

She pulls off his softening cock slowly, taking in a much needed breath of air.

“Do you still question my decision making skills?” Rin licks off a stray drop of his come from her bottom lip before she smiles.

“Absolutely; and if this is the treatment I’m going to get every time I do, then I think I’ll have to disagree with you more often.” Astarion’s still catching his breath as he replies, but it doesn’t stop a wolfish grin from spreading across his face.

“Don’t get too ahead of yourself, Astarion.” Rin gently tucks him back into his pants, patting his hip with a smirk before she rises back up to her full height, knees aching slightly with the motion. “If I did that every time we had a disagreement, I’m not sure I would have much time to do anything else.”

Astarion has an arm wrapped back around her waist in a mere moment and she’s pulled close again, the one hand still in her hair curving around the back of her head to tilt her face up to his own.

“Then maybe you should try to be less difficult, dearest.” His hand runs down, caressing the curve of her bottom before sweeping back up and around to hover at the front of her pants.

His touch sends a spark of heat down to her neglected arousal, Rin taking a steadying breath as she braces her hands on his chest. “If I were less difficult, you would be bored.”

Astarion chuckles as his fingertips dip below her waistband, more heat curling deep in her core as they quickly slip beneath the band of her underwear, intent to find the wetness that has settled between her thighs.

He wastes no time gliding them through her folds, running them up and down her center as Rin gasps, Astarion’s eyes intent on hers as he slicks his fingers with her arousal before finding her entrance and sinking two of them inside her with ease.

“I see I wasn’t the only one enjoying myself,” Astarion groans at the evidence of her own lust he finds waiting, pushing his fingers deeper.

“Far from it, Astarion.” She moans as her head falls forward onto his shoulder, eyes drifting shut as he curls them once, twice; her limbs tightening as he seats them fully inside her.

It would be so easy to let Astarion bring her to brink and push her over into euphoria, no doubt only a few quirks of his fingers and she’d be gone, clinging to him with every ounce of her strength as he makes her come.

But she doesn’t want it to be about her. Not right now.

Despite the breath that rushes free and the soft whine she lets out as Astarion pumps the fingers he has buried in her, the desire almost painfully hot in her core; Rin reaches one of her hands down to grasp his wrist, pulling his hand away from where she wants him most.

She’ll take care of herself later. She certainly has plenty of material to think about.

Astarion sends her a questioning look as he slips his fingers out of her, Rin’s hand still on his as she guides him out of her leggings. “Is there a problem, sweet? Need something else inside of you instead?”

Rin huffs a soft laugh as she intertwines her fingers with his, squeezing his hand. She fears that her expression is entirely too open as she looks up at him and her lips quirk into a smile, but it’s too late for her to take it back so she commits to it, letting a tiny bit of the feeling that’s been growing inside her show on her features.

“I just—it doesn’t always need to be about me. Take your pleasure and enjoy it. You don’t owe me one back, or anything silly like that.”

Astarion stares at her as his expression clouds with confusion, but the hand in hers doesn’t weaken, his grip still strong and sure.

Rin stands up on her tiptoes, lips seeking his cheek as she bestows a light kiss upon it before whispering, “Thank you, Astarion, for letting me give you something for once. I’ll see you in a little bit.”

She steals her hand back, the slide of his skin against her own slow as she takes a step away from him, sending a little wave his way before she turns and walks back towards camp, leaving Astarion to stare perplexed at her retreating form.

✧· · ─── ·✧· ─── · ·✧

Astarion sits perched on his favorite rock in camp, handsome and brooding, no doubt the perfect portrait of a mercurial and mysterious vampire to anyone with eyes who chose to look his way.

Or he would be, if anybody in this damn camp would pay any attention to him.

He rolls his eyes with a scoff as he directs his gaze towards the small group of idiots that are now his companions; a preposterous notion that he even considers them to be such.

They make their merry by the fire, passing around a bottle of what is clearly a very strong whiskey if the faces they pull after taking swigs of it are anything to go by.

He can imagine the smell of it, smokey and stout, and is very glad to have a goblet of wine beside him instead.

Whiskey was all fine and good and certainly had its uses, but it lacked the elegance of a fine wine; no whiskey ever as smooth on its own as a delectable vintage feels gliding over his tongue and down.

It’s a chilling thought that he’s been in such close contact with these fools for months now, Astarion learning all their little intricacies whether he wants to or not.

Yet, he doesn’t find himself hating the growing familiarity quite as much as he did at the beginning.

He knew his siblings, of course. But that bond was different, one forged by mutual fear and shared pain. He didn’t know what kinds of books they liked to read or what their favorite sweets had been. Instead, he knew how each of their screams sounded and how their bodies had looked torn apart under Cazador and Godey’s punishments, flesh rent from bone.

No, he firmly knew more about this merry little band of imbeciles he had been thrown together with than the six souls he had known for years and years and years, with one individual in particular standing out above the rest.

Astarion, it seems, now knew more about Rin than he had ever cared to know about another person in over 200 years. Useless, meaningless information she’s offered up about herself seemingly at random and without purpose or prize.

She was a complete and utter fool.

And yet, he drank up each and every tiny piece about herself that she gave him as though it were her blood, flowing free and pomegranate-sweet from her neck.

Astarion knew her favorite flowers—a hard choice, according to her, but she tends to favor the perfect, happy purple of the crocus a little more than the rest.

He had rolled his eyes at this, swiftly informing her that flowers were essentially no more than useless, pretty things with little substance; and had earned himself a very sound swat upon his arm.

He knew her favorite foods—any sort of sweet berry at midsummer, along with a nice loaf of bread and perhaps some butter or cheese.

Her taste in food was pitifully simple, though Astarion supposes a life on the Lower City streets didn’t usually imbue people with a terribly complicated palate for the finer delicacies life had to offer.

He knew that Rin did not know her father—only that he had been an elf come to the city on some sort of business from a far away place and Rin her human mother’s only token of remembrance from an affair she only wanted to forget about, and one she eventually did forget about when she left Rin to fend for herself.

She knew nothing of the Elvish ways and customs, nothing of the language that should sit so naturally on her tongue.

The knowledge that he could say anything he wanted to her in their language and she would be hopeless to ever understand him is one that tempts him in a variety of ways that he doesn’t indulge, lest his mind find its way heading into dangerous territory.

He knew that she’d had no sweeping romances with tender touches and soft sighs—only quick nighttime flings helped along by pints of cheap ale from equally cheap taverns and that while they had perhaps filled a need, they tended to leave her feeling more empty and decidedly less than, in the end.

Astarion all too well understood that particular feeling. He hated that she had ever felt the same.

He readily ignores the inkling in the back of his mind warning him that he, perhaps, is no better than the others when he leaves her every night staring up at him, poorly concealed disappointment etched across her pretty face.

Uselessly, he also knew her favorite color—the deep, turquoise blue-green of the Chionthar on a clear day at noontime, naturally, when the sun sparkled off the undulating current of the water.

It could never be anything quite so easy as simply ‘the color blue’ with her.

Astarion himself had long forgotten the color of the river, having only seen it as the darkened muddy blue-black of the midnight hours for centuries now.

Rin had been utterly shocked when she asked him for his own and he had told her he didn’t have one.

“You don’t have a favorite color? Astarion,” She had said aghast, drawing out the syllables of his name as her bright eyes had widened in surprise.

He had no use for frivolous things like favorite colors.

What colors, exactly, was he to have had the time to enjoy?

Certainly not the darkly stained, ornately paneled woods of the chamber he used to entertain his victims; or the gaudy, overly saturated reds and too brightly shined golds in that room meant to invoke opulence and luxury, yet another layer designed to further lure them into the fantasy he provided.

Nor the watery yellow glow of torchlight against the dull, muddied brown of wet cobblestones as he led whoever had been chosen that night back to the Szarr Palace, charming and seductive as he promised them his body and their control over it.

There was nothing beautiful about the metallic shine of a silver cage in the kennel, dotted with the rusty brown of dried blood, though whether it was his own or belonged to one of his siblings he never really knew.

How was there to be any joy found in color beyond the allure of the deepest burgundy wine as it filled up his cup to help dull his mind as he lowered himself to do the things his mark that evening wanted of him, mind drifting to focus on anything else as he did whatever he needed to do in order to survive.

Astarion grimaces, throwing back another swallow of his wine as the thoughts leave him tinged with the sickly yellow-green of disgust and the feeling of shame: a blistering, burning, glowing red.

At first, right after the Nautiloid had crashed and he had escaped the closeness of that dreadful pod, his chest having constricted at the tightness of it around him—it was just another cage in the end, wasn’t it? Just another leash for him to be collared to—the riot of colors in the bright light of the sun had hurt his newly sensitive eyes as he had hid in the shadow of the wreckage.

It was only once he had realized he wouldn’t be burned to a crisp in the sunshine, a wonder in its own right, that he began to take notice of them all. There were far too many colors and all of them were so…so saturated; all the different shades and intensities unbearably overwhelming.

From the small green leaves of the scrubby trees, to the brown grains of sand, to the grotesque purple of the Nautiloid and the soon-to-be rotting corpses of mindflayers—terribly, horribly overwhelming.

She was overwhelming to look at when he first saw her, too. Shining eyes of emerald green, warm skin thoroughly kissed by the sun, dark blonde curls gleaming in the unbearable brightness of the light. That awful outfit she wore that marked her as none other but a bard, albeit one with terrible sartorial sense.

Rin was the first person he had set eyes on in the sunshine in over 200 years and he had hated the very sight of her.

She had been a clash of colors, all dreadfully uncomplimentary to him, that he shied away from the sight of. Colors like that were never quite so bold in the darkness that he was so used to, their vivacity dulled by dancing firelight and the shadows of night.

She was too brilliant to bear the sight of, utterly casual and downright flippant, too unbothered by it all to be trusted—though, he knows better now; and looking back he can see that her confidence was all nothing more than a well-executed performance on her part.

He still doesn’t feel bad about holding that knife to her neck as he had dragged her down into the coarse sand with him, the scent of her scarlet blood still rich despite it drying against her cheek, dots of it mixing in with the freckles that were scattered across her cheeks like the tiniest of constellations.

Perhaps that was his first mistake in all of this, allowing himself to get so near someone so dazzling and warm. It was like playing with fire—dance too close to the flame and you were bound to be burned.

And going up into flames was something Astarion could not afford.

But now, slowly, the color has begun to come back to him little by little and he could start to appreciate again it for the first time in centuries.

The precise cornflower blue of the sky on a cloudless day or the deep violet of it at twilight as the stars wink to life.

The way sunlight dappled onto the ground through a forested canopy to illuminate the all the tiny flowers that grow up from the ground in a rainbow of colors—purples, pinks, yellows, blues.

The myriad of all the different greens that he could now truly behold: the dark, bountiful leaves of a fern, a fragile spring green stem of a flower, the lush and verdant shade of her eyes.

Astarion still didn’t have a favorite color. Not really.

But he was coming around to the idea of having one.

A laugh carries across camp, melodic and light and lovely, dragging him from the depths of his musings over to where Rin sits by the fire, their companions all floating around her like moths to a flame.

He absolutely hates the way they all look at her.

He can see it on their faces, a blatant adoration that she somehow seems to completely disregard for reasons he can’t fathom, instead intent to spend her time with him of all people.

But he cannot blame them, after all, because he’s no better. Just as desperate for her attention and her closeness, it seems, if the way his feet kept finding their way to her tent night after night was anything to go by.

Astarion wonders sometimes if they can see the very same hopeless look on his own face as he gazes upon her, despite how well he tries to hide it.

Rin leans against Halsin as she laughs, cheeks flushing at whatever it is the oversized elf says to her. Her curls are unbound, falling freely around her tonight in a wave of shining gold to her waist and he wishes he could bury his fingers in the strands to feel the softness of them for himself.

The druid does nothing to dissuade Rin from the circle of his arms as he claps a hand on her shoulder before sliding it down to the small of her back, smiling at her a touch too friendly for Astarion’s liking and a stab of something hits him straight in the chest.

Jealousy.

He has no claim to her, of course. He’s not made one and has no plans to. But the sudden thought of her underneath Halsin—or any of them, really—has his jaw clenching tight.

The other elf is attractive and strong, no doubt a good lover; and the thought of the warmth he could so easily provide her that Astarion cannot churns his long-empty stomach.

He can see it all too easily, imagining Rin so very pretty with cheeks flushed pink and body inviting as Halsin leans over and takes her sweetness for his own.

He can see Rin on her knees, looking up at the druid with the same look of affection in her eyes that she had given him earlier that day as she had tasted him.

Or perhaps the worst thoughts of them all—Rin telling Halsin all the inane things she would normally bother him with; Rin playing tiny bits of melodies and sweet little songs on her lyre for Halsin while he whittles by the light of the fire; Rin writing the druid letters that she would then hide poorly in his tent, ensuring they can always be found and read and replied to—

He was spiraling, and he needed to stop.

Astarion shakes the thoughts away with a frown, bringing his goblet back to his lips for another sip. He doesn’t know why she favors him so, why she allows him into her orbit when there’s a group full of others who would so readily take his place, all of whom would no doubt treat her better than he has.

He wouldn’t blame her, if she sought after any of the others.

Certainly not after that night, the one where he had made her undress before him for his entertainment and then kicked her out of his tent when she was still wrapped up in the afterglow of what was a very intimate evening.

Perhaps too intimate.

His chest gnaws at itself at the thought of the way he had handled it all.

Astarion had lost count of how many times he had undressed in front of others, so many of their faces blessedly long blurred by time.

He had unbuttoned and unlaced countless of his shirts, pants, doublets—a liar’s allure painted upon his features as he gave whoever it was a show, forever the night’s entertainment for his quarry.

Yet, he had made her do the same.

He had enjoyed it, too. He had enjoyed watching her undress solely for him, piece by piece, her gaze piercing his own as she reveled in his attention on her.

She hadn’t said no or objected to it. But he could see the challenge in her eyes just as easily as she could see right through him and his attempt to gain back his precious lead in their little game, the perceptive little thing.

A strange feeling—remorse—settles itself in his chest as he watches her from across camp.

The remorse only grows the longer Astarion fixates on it, leading to more and more questions that he doesn’t have the answers to, the weight of them near unbearable upon his scarred shoulders.

The crushing reality was that his plan was crumbling bit by bit, like a tiny pebble crushed under foot; and the worst part about it was that he was finding it harder and harder to care.

Rin has made it abundantly clear that she is on his side.

He’d seduced her, had won her sword (mediocre skill notwithstanding), and had long secured her dedication to his cause.

By all accounts, his plan is practically complete where she’s concerned.

All they needed to do now was get back to Baldur’s Gate and—well, he wasn’t quite sure what would come after they get back into the city, Astarion was still a little fuzzy on the details of it all, but she’d help him figure it out when the time came, of course.

Rin was aways helpful when it really mattered.

So why is it that he can’t stop with the first part? Even if he were to decide to stop sleeping with her, he wasn’t particularly concerned that she would suddenly turn on him.

He has no reason to find his way into her bed now; no reason other than his own selfish, deep-seated desire for her company and attention and affection.

Rin catches his eye in a poorly timed glance of his own, and smiles so full of a sickening fondness—nose crinkled and flushed cheeks—at him.

Faster than he can follow she’s out of Halsin’s embrace, gracing the druid with a playful smile and a pat on the shoulder before she saunters over to where he sits perched on his rock, limbs unnaturally loose as she pads closer—drunk indeed.

Astarion doesn’t miss the way the light from the fire limns her figure from behind, setting her aglow in a halo of golden-red as she finds her way over to him, something in his chest warming as she nears.

She sways slightly when she stops before him and he can smell the rich tang of the whiskey on her as she sends him a mischievous look that has his lips already quirking up at the corners.

“You,” she pokes him in the chest to add an emphasis that he did not need. “Should come join us”

“And you,” he refrains from poking her back in response, though the thought amuses him. “Are drunk.”

Rin takes a step closer, wrapping her arms around his neck and leaning forward, slotting herself between his legs and blithely ignoring the glances the motion garners from their companions.

Astarion’s eyes widen at the blatant display of affection, taken aback by the ease of it as the scent of her surrounds him—honey and flowers and all around loveliness.

On anyone else he would hate the perfume she wears, but on her it smells nothing short of wonderful; tempting him to bury his face into her neck and breathe her in.

Her hands play with the hair on his neck, as they always seem to, delicate fingertips running through the waves and he resists the urge to lean into her soothing touch.

He can feel multiple sets of eyes upon the two of them, voices lowered into whispers as the group no doubt gossips. The nature of his relationship with Rin is far from a secret, he’s drawn too many beautiful sounds from her lips for anyone to be unaware of their trysts.

Astarion secretly revels in the idea that they are quite possibly jealous of what Rin gives to him; something that none of them have ever received from her.

So let them see, then.

Let them see that it is him who she seeks out, his arms the ones she wants to find herself in, his lips the ones she wishes to kiss.

Astarion’s arms find their way to her waist with an uncomfortable ease, hands settling along the indent of it as his thumbs run up and down her covered skin without thought, dragging her closer between his legs until their faces are mere inches from one another’s, only the rock beneath him stopping her chest from pressing fully against his own.

“I’m not drunk enough, I fear.” Rin cocks her head to the side with a smile, as she whispers covertly to him. “Maybe, if you come share a drink with me, we can fix that.”

Astarion allows himself the temptation to brush an errant curl away from her face, the lock just as soft as he knew it’d be, before matching her tone. “Don’t be such a lush, dear.”

“Oh, come on, Astarion. I know that you enjoy a good drink as much as I do. And I promise, the whiskey is good.”

He swears that he can hear her breath hitch as his fingers accidentally brush against her cheek, her eyes widening ever so slightly in surprise as he tucks the curl behind her ear.

“Oh, I’ve got no doubt of that, my dear,” He chuckles, a corner of his mouth turning up without his permission. “If it weren’t, you wouldn’t be quite so tipsy in front of me.”

“Don’t say it like it’s a bad thing,” Rin tuts, pouting.

The way her bottom lip pushes out and her eyes widen under lowered brows is, dare he say, cute; and he can’t help the inward sigh that he’s now been relegated to thinking of a beautiful woman something as absurd as cute.

It’s a blow to his seductive charm, surely, to use such a word to describe her; but all of the other adjectives he’s thought of in the past seem to had fled his mind under her spell when she looks at him like that.

What in the absolute hells has she done to him?

“Pouting? Really, darling?” Astarion drawls, the hand he had used to tuck her hair back now brushing openly down her cheek in a touch that has her face heating to a most becoming shade of pink.

Rin instinctively leans into his hand and he resists the urge to cup her cheek, suddenly possessed by the want to draw her face closer to his.

“You don’t have to come drink with me at all, of course.” Her voice takes on that same tone it had taken on earlier, intention dripping from her words like the thickest of honey as her she bites her lip, drawing his attention to her mouth. “We can always go find something else to do instead. Just the two of us.”

The pink of her tongue peeks out to wet her bottom lip, soothing the place where she bit down upon it, and if Astarion hadn’t been paying attention already, he certainly would be now.

“Oh? Just the two of us?” He teases her, his other hand moving to curl around her lower back to pull her even closer, Rin curving herself into him, and Gods if the feeling of her against him didn’t feel like heaven. “What do you have in mind? A game of cards? Or, perhaps we should practice our calligraphy together, hm?”

Rin leans in to let her lips brush against the tip of his ear, Astarion barely holding back the shiver that threatens to break free as her hands comb through his hair and she speaks low, “I can make you feel good again, Astarion. If you want me to.”

Her words bleed with affection and genuine sweetness, and Astarion finds it very difficult to say no to her when she asks like that.

His mind flashes back to earlier, the image of Rin on her knees as she had waited for his answer, hands poised at his waistband streaking through his mind along with others as his stomach tightens.

Her perfect lips wrapped around his cock, the feeling of coming down her throat, drops of diamond-like tears tracing down flushed cheeks, his hands buried in her hair.

How she had told him to take his pleasure and not worry about hers. A very sweet sentiment that he deeply appreciated for reasons he very much didn’t want to think about at the moment.

‘Thank you, Astarion, for letting me give you something for once,’Rin had said.

As if she didn’t already give him plenty.

He’s thoroughly enjoyed being at her mercy, her touch always soft and gentle while she asks for permission. It had been so many years since he had indulged in wanting to be touched like that, and having affection heaped upon him by someone so eager to please him has quickly become nothing short of addicting.

“Oh? And do tell, how you plan on doing that?” Astarion lets his fingers drift slowly up her spine, enjoying the way her body presses harder into his and her breath catches, the sound lovely.

“Follow me and I’ll show you,” Rin whispers as she steps out of the circle of his arms, swaying slightly as she does, and Astarion’s brows knit together in consternation.

She grabs his hand, and Astarion swears the feeling of hers wrapped around his could scald him, every nerve in his body set alight by that innocent touch.

He allows himself to be lead to her tent, content to follow after her with hands still connected; but there seemed to be a single glaring issue standing in Astarion’s way that he was apparently now unable to ignore.

She was quite drunk tonight.

Too drunk, according to a newer, still unfamiliar voice in his head.

It’s a step too far for him now, or at least it is where she’s concerned; a step that, granted, months ago he wouldn’t have batted an eyelash at taking.

All the better if they were too drunk, it only made his job easier in the end.

But Rin’s not like that, she’s not a mark and she deserves so much better than being taken advantage of in such a state, even if for his plan or his own personal desires of her.

She would be so easy to please like this, with the alcohol addling her mind.

And oh, how he could please her.

He could so easily touch and kiss and fuck any thoughts she may have about Halsin or any of the rest of them right out of her mind, ensuring that his name is the only one that falls from her lips.

She steps through the flap of her tent, her hand still holding his, and once he’s inside she’s turning again, wrapping her arms around his neck as she balances up on tiptoes, staring earnestly into his eyes.

“I’ll do whatever you want, Astarion. Just tell me, I want to know more about what you like.” She sways again, and his arm wraps around her waist to steady her as their bodies press together.

“Let’s get you lying down, sweetheart.”

He hadn’t meant to say such a word earlier, but it had slipped out of his mouth as he had hit the burning, white hot peak of his pleasure at her worship.

Astarion finds, though, that he likes the way it flows off his tongue when directed at her.

It fits her well enough, in his opinion.

He lets Rin drag him to the ground until her back is against her bedroll and he hovers over her, staring down into hazy green eyes as her curls spread around her. She’s a vision like this, and he memorizes the sight of her without thinking to, his eyes moving to capture every inch of her before his mind even realizes what he’s doing and can tell himself to stop.

“And now, Astarion?”

She waits on a bated breath, waiting, as his eyes finding their way again to her lips.

Kiss her. That voice in the back of his mind is nothing but a traitor as it whispers to him, knowing full well he can’t give in to such dizzying impulses like that on a whim.

He knows better than to allow himself to kiss her. Because once starts he won’t be able to stop.

It would be so easy to fall into her, to kiss her into utter oblivion and lose himself in the body she so readily offers. To forget all about his pathetic life if only for the little bit of time they steal away to spend together in temporary bliss.

But it always comes back after.

The memories, the reality of who is he and what he’s done, the feeling of his skin crawling in the aftermath of so many hands that have touched him without permission.

Her touch is different, but when he’s been touched thousands of times by thousands of people, it all seems to blend together in the end no matter what he wants—even if hers is the only one he wants to think about and remember the feeling of, thoughts of her consuming him even with just a gentle brush of her arm against his.

“And now, darling, you sleep.”

He doubts she’ll remember much come morning, the whiskey burning through her veins hotter than a flask of alchemist’s fire; but Astarion finds that he wants to be remembered, if only by her, just this once.

Wants her to remember their time together the way he always will. If they survive this, even when he has his freedom and is long gone to wherever it is he wants to go—he will always remember.

He ignores the stutter of loneliness that pangs in his chest as he imagines ever so briefly what his freedom will look like when he’s on his own with no one else around.

It would certainly be quiet. Perhaps even peaceful.

He would be able to spend his time however he wished it in the solitude, not a soul around to bother him with foolish chatter unless he went in search of such a thing.

Strange how the thought of it doesn’t hold the same appeal that it once did.

A hand running along his cheek draws him out of his thoughts, dragging him back to the present as Rin looks up at him, eyes soft and yet somehow still managing to pierce straight through his un-beating heart as she studies his features.

“I meant it, you know—what I said to you that night. You don’t have to fuck me, Astarion. You can come sleep with me and we can just lay together. Or even just talk. I know my conversation doesn’t mean much, but—” She cups his cheek in her palm, the tenderness of it threatening to burn him to cinders. “It doesn’t have to be just about sex between us. We’re friends too, aren’t we? Friends can simply enjoy each other’s company and presence and take care of each other, can’t they?”

She’s babbling, words falling out of her mouth freed by the whiskey; but the innate truth he hears in them threaten the remaining bits of resolve that he has left.

Astarion’s not quite sure who she’s trying to convince—herself or him—but his determination wanes regardless, like a thread pulled too tight and on the verge of snapping.

But it wasn’t just about the sex, and if it’s not just about his plan, then what was it about?

He’s fairly certain friends don’t typically know each other’s bodies as intimately as they do, or know how beautiful they look as they fall apart, or find themselves craving nothing more than to simply exist with the other near.

Friends probably also don’t think about each other in the depths of the night when they’re cold and alone and hurting, the thought of the other a shining light in the eternal darkness of their existence.

Astarion, though, has never had any friends that he can remember.

With more gentleness than he would prefer, Astarion removes her hand from his cheek and rights himself to a kneel, his knees finding their home on either side of her hips.

He holds her hand within his own, turning his attention where he cradles it in his palm. Her hand is smaller than his, several calluses along the places where she holds her rapier and her quill, fingers still decorated with the ink she must have used earlier to write him a very scathing letter.

He had briefly considered tearing the letter to bits, the words contained on the piece of paper properly irritating and, in Astarion’s opinion, practically libel, but he couldn’t do it; instead relegating it to the pile where he keeps all the other useless slips of parchment from her in a neat stack hidden out of plain sight in his tent.

Her letters were, after all, the first tangible thing anyone had given him since he was bestowed with his sanguine hunger, his dark curse.

And whether he wants to admit it or not, he’s so far been unable to find a valid reason to rid himself of them, useless though they may be.

Before he can catch himself, he’s leaning his head down to the hand he holds within his own, and with a damning softness he brushes a kiss onto each of her ink-stained fingertips where they had touched his face, lips light against them before placing a final, reverent kiss in the center of her palm.

She’s looks as though she’s not even breathing when Astarion raises his head to stare down at her, her hand still clasped in his own.

He can hear the beat of her heart, drumming loudly against her ribcage with a rhythm he’s become so very familiar with, and he can smell the ambrosia of her blood as it soars through her veins.

Even in the darkness he can see the pink of her cheeks and the freckles that dust over the tops of them and he’s half-tempted to count them, wishing to brush his fingers over each and every one of them, if only to feel his skin against the sunny warmth of her own.

But it’s too much, and he’s spiraling downdowndown again into the depths of somewhere he’s not yet ready to be, and so he needs to leave. Needs to leave for the same reason he has to leave her every night, despite the weakness that has him indulging in anything and everything else she’ll afford him.

He has no other choice, for when she speaks such innocent words to him, offering him the simple solace of rest so full of a tender, blossoming affection, he’s filled with a want so heavy it threatens to drag him under.

Because if Astarion allows himself to give in—to know what it would be like to be warm, comfortable, safe—he knows he would never be able to go without it again.

Warmth, kisses, attention, kindness—all heaped upon him without wanting anything in return. No money, no favors, no motive other than her pure wish to spend time with him.

It’s a good thing his heart no longer beats, for if it did, Astarion has no doubt that she would be able to hear the rampant sound of it in his chest just as he can hear her own.

He rests her hand back down, letting it settle across her stomach as he swallows down the torrent of things that threaten to break free from him, Rin looking at him with a confused sort of wonder, as though he were a puzzle she was trying desperately to fit the pieces of together in her mind.

“Good night.” He stands to leave, movements as quiet as the night around them thanks to the unnatural grace he possess, before turning toward the tent flap. “Sleep well, my darling.”

He’ll allow himself that much, at least; for what was the harm in letting himself indulge in getting to call her his own just this once, if only to see what it feels like?

“You too, Astarion.” He turns his head briefly at her whispered words and meets her eyes, something molten and unguarded smoldering in her gaze as she watches him leave.

He can’t bear the sight of it a moment more, another utterance from her all it would take for him to succumb to his most secret desires—things he can barely stand to admit to himself—and so he turns his head forward and walks back out into the darkness, letting the honest and true longing that has been slowly burning him from the inside out finally consume him.

#feelings: they've both got a lot of em #and what are they going to do about it? they don't know!!!!#astarion x tav #astarion x f!tav #astarion x female tav #astarion smut #astarion fanfiction #astarion fic #astarion bg3 #astarion #astarion fandom #verbenaa writes things!

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