#pretty cure + gender neutral reader

[baileypie-writes]

Hello I’ve been kinda nervous to request but I wanted to do A precure request soo

Not A big idea but how about plantonic headcanons for smile precure Reika & GN!Reader where they were apart of student council and are close but one day saw her in danger and in the heat of the moment became A precure as well (aka becoming the mid season cure of Smile) and how she would react to it (maybe add in the age that reader is naturally good at it like her and more serious and sorry if this is a lot)

A/N ~ Sure! This is such a cute idea! Hope you enjoy!

~Becoming a Pretty Cure and Saving Reika Headcanons~

~~~❄️~~~❄️~~~❄️~~~

Fandom: Smile Pretty Cure!

Fanfic Type: Headcanons

Reader: Gender neutral

Relationship: Platonic

Characters Included: Reika Aoki/Cure Beauty

Genre: Fluff? Idk

Word Count: 630

Warnings: Very minor and un-detailed violence, kinda rushed

~Masterlist~

~Smile Pretty Cure! Masterlist~

‼️Glitter Force stans DNI‼️

~~~❄️~~~❄️~~~❄️~~~

~ Both being part of the student council, you and Reika had become great friends. She was so kind and humble, definitely someone you strived to be. You wished you could hang out with her more, but whenever she’s not working on the school council, she’s with her friend group. They looked like such cool people. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t a bit jealous.

~ Anyway, you just lived on, doing your school council work. Though one day, something odd occurred. Out of nowhere, you felt a sudden aura of despair, and ended up on the ground. You felt like you weren’t good enough, and that nothing was worth trying. But a familiar voice snapped you out of it.

~ You heard Reika. When you looked up, you saw a mysterious blue girl fighting some big monster, along with other girls. Though she looked different, you could tell it was Reika. She had the same cool, calm spirit. And she fought so gracefully, there was no way it wasn’t her.

~ Suddenly, the monster landed a huge blow, knocking all the girls down. You gasped, and instinctively yelled for your school council president. She turned to you, and gave you an attempt of a reassuring smile. But you could tell she wasn’t able to get back up.

~ You felt a wave of both determination and rage wash over you. With some struggle, you managed to stand up. You yelled at the monster and his wolf-like master for hurting Reika and her teammates. You expressed that even though they were strong, you’d be willing to fight for them.

~ A bright light emitted from your body, sending you into a strange, bright, room-like place. A compact appeared in front of you, as well as a weird yellow and white lamb thing. It spoke in a light pitched voice, ending each sentence with “~kuru”. It told you to put something called a “Cure Decor” into the compact. And while you didn’t quite understand what was going on, you obeyed.

~ You inserted the Decor into the compact, and a powder puff shot out in front of you. Instinctively, you took hold of it, and began dabbing the powder onto your body. With each application, you transformed. Your clothes and hair changed into something reminiscent of what Reika and the others were wearing, though more unique. Once your new form was complete, you yelled out a strange phrase, followed by your new name, “Cure (name)”.

~ You admired your new look, as did as the girls. The villain expressed pure rage and confusion of their being another Pretty Cure. Being reminded of your goal, you leapt at the monster. Being unprepared, you successfully hit it, knocking it to the ground. You didn’t give it a chance to get up, hitting it again. You were a natural. A feeling of power and spirit overcame you, and your Smile Pact began to glow. The fairy, Candy, told you to use your power, so that’s just what you did. A magic aura blazed from your fingertips, and you shot it right at the monster, completely obliterating it.

~ The wolf yelled in frustration, and disappeared. But you didn’t pay him any attention. The moment the monster was gone, you made your way over to Reika. Helping her up, you asked if she was okay. She said she was fine, thanked you, and that she was so happy for you. She also said that she was excited that you were able to become a Pretty Cure. All the other girls came over, and expressed their amazement for you and your power. And while you still didn’t quite understand what was going on, you were happy that you finally got what you wanted. Being closer with Reika, and getting to know her friends.

~~~❄️~~~❄️~~~❄️~~~

~~baileypie-writes

[venus-haze]

You're My Best Friend (Homelander x Reader)

Summary: Homelander was a test tube baby, raised in isolation in a cold, clinical lab. But that doesn’t inspire America, does it? Vought tasks you with creating the idyllic backstory for its hero, and what starts as a limited comic run spirals out of control when Homelander himself demands your help in making the story a reality.

Note: Gender neutral reader, but no other descriptors are used. Based on a request by @crash-and-cure as well as a bastardization of one of the sweetest love songs ever written (sorry, John Deacon!) This got kinda meta? Do not interact if you’re under 18 or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 2k

Warnings: Emotional manipulation, I guess some gaslighting on Homelander’s part? Do not interact if you’re under 18.

When Vought hired you to create their long-awaited Homelander origin comic series, you were thrilled—until they gave you so little information about his childhood to work with, you weren’t even sure you could come up with one comic, let alone the ten they requested. The details about his childhood were minimal, not even a full printed page—a loving mom and dad, played baseball, did well in school, strong sense of justice from a young age, his friends called him “Johnny.” Your requests to meet with Homelander so you could get some stories from the man himself were constantly denied.

You almost considered dropping the project, until you decided to throw caution to the wind and pull from your own childhood and set it in good ol’ generic suburbia. Some of the storylines were based on your own experiences or things that had happened to people you’d grown up with, though you changed enough names and details to not link it to anyone in particular. Except yourself, of course. Using a pseudonym professionally meant you felt no need to change your own name in the comics. Sure, making your cooler fictionalized self Homelander’s childhood best friend was a bit self-indulgent, but no one would know, really.

To your relief, the editors at Vought loved your ideas, making minor changes before bringing the storylines to their comic artists to bring it to life. The result was Finding Homelander: A Boy’s Journey To Be a Hero. The issues flew off shelves when they were first released, ironically praised for their relatability and authenticity. Vought extended your contract, asking you to produce the cartoon adaptation and another ten issues.

Still, in all of that, you’d never met Homelander. A representative from Vought emailed you to let you know to tune in to his interview on a talk show one day, saying that he’d be talking more about the cartoon project on it. You recognized the host, Tracey, always chipper and having some extravagant giveaway for her audience members. Daytime TV was never your thing, though.

“I think what resonates with so many people is how relatable your childhood is,” Tracey said, holding up a copy of Finding Homelander issue #3, where he saved ‘you’ from getting hit in the face with a baseball at one of his games, catching it with ease. It’d been the happy ending to a short storyline of him struggling to find his place on the team and you encouraging him to not give up. “You and Y/N were pretty close, do you still keep in touch?”

“You know, Tracey, not as much as I’d like, unfortunately. Adulthood can be so busy, you need to cherish those childhood memories,” Homelander said. “I did give them a call when the comics first came out, and wow, the laughs we had over those old antics of ours. Talk about a walk down memory lane!”

You guessed the bullshitting was all part of the promotional circuit for Homelander. Knowing this childhood of his was your own fabrication, you couldn’t help but wonder what else about him was fake. Maybe he wanted to maintain his privacy, you could certainly understand that. You couldn’t shake the voice in the back of your mind that said it wasn’t so simple, that the narrative Vought pushed was a cover to hide something in Homelander’s past.

“Now, I’ve heard rumors of a cartoon show based on the comics in the making, is this true?”

“It is! I’m excited for this project, getting back to my ‘roots’ so to speak. I’ll be voicing myself, of course, but it’s funny you’d bring up Y/N, because they’ve agreed to voice themself, too.”

“How fun!” Tracey exclaimed over the roar of the talk show crowd’s applause and cheers. “I guess this is the hopeless romantic in me, but I hope this reconnection leads to something a little more. I’m just a sucker for childhood sweethearts!” 

Homelander laughed along with the host’s giggles, “Well, you never know.”

You balked at the television, mouth agape. Surely he couldn’t be talking about you. ‘Y/N’ could be anyone with your same features. Vought had probably hired a professional voice actor for the role and were pushing the authenticity angle. The whole situation felt odd. 

When you checked your work email again on your phone, you nearly dropped it on the floor. 

SUBJECT: Meeting with Homelander This Week

The email contained a list of days and times throughout the week wherein Homelander would be free, apparently wanting to meet you to thank you for the success of the comic series and discuss upcoming work. Yeah. That last part you sure as hell wanted to discuss too. You responded with the soonest time available, in a meeting room in Vought Tower the following evening. As soon as you hit ‘send’, you wondered what exactly you were getting yourself into.

Anticipation filled your gut as you went about your day leading up to meeting the supe himself. What would he be like, really be like? Was there even a version of Homelander that wasn’t hopelessly manufactured for the masses? You knew then that his upbringing was a lie, and thus stood the probability that so much else was, too. 

When you stepped into that meeting room, you hadn’t been expecting his face to light up at the sight of you. 

“Homelander, hi, it’s great to—“

“No need to be so formal, Y/N! You can call me Johnny, just like old times,” he said cheerfully, in on a joke you clearly hadn’t been aware of.

“Sorry, Johnny,” you said, playing along. “It’s great to see you again.”

He pulled you in for an unexpected hug that you returned. “Figured we should catch up before things really start getting crazy, don’t you think?”

You nodded, your nose brushing against him as you did so. Just as your lips parted to offer an apology, he smiled, shooing away the assistant who’d accompanied him out of the room. 

He sat down, motioning for you to do the same.

“Gotta say, I’m a fan of your work,” he said.

“Thank you,” you said. “I’m not sure I understand exactly what’s going on, though.”

“What’s there to understand? I’m not allowed to know more about my best friend, our lives together growing up?”

“How did you know it was me?”

“Wasn’t hard for me to put two and two together, but considering everyone else around here has their head up their asses, they have no idea,” he said, before lowering his voice conspiratorially and giving you a charming smile. “I haven’t told anyone. What’s a secret between friends?”

You nodded, overwhelmed by the intensity of his attention on you. “What do you want to know?”

He sighed, resting his head on his hand. “Everything.”

So you told him. Not quite everything, of course, but enough to abate his curiosity. At least for the time being. His interviews were sharper, more specific with details rather than rattling off whatever had been in the comics. You watched in shock as convincing photos of his Little League days were posted to his social media accounts, anecdotes provided by his increasingly frequent conversations–or more like interrogation sessions–with you, but in his style, of course. It was almost scary what the graphic design team at Vought could accomplish, not that you’d ever know how, exactly, as they were all under the same strict NDA that you were.

He started spending more time with you, too, and after a while, it did seem like you were old friends. Part of you flinched whenever you called him Johnny, because Johnny wasn’t even real, but with your complacency, this fabrication was slowly morphing into a strikingly tangible memory. With each conversation, he drew you deeper into the world you’d been paid to create for him until you found yourself slipping up.

You’d been showing him a goofy stuffed monkey on your desk, a cute little thing with big sparkling eyes. A prize for getting two out of three at the ring toss. Probably spent more money winning it than it was actually worth, but it was about the effort, the memories made.

“You remember, don’t you? You won it for me at the county fair,” you said without thinking.

He laughed in agreement, as if he actually had. Except he hadn’t. Your high school boyfriend won it for you a week before graduation. Sensing the mood shift, he set down your prize and looked at you with the same intensity he had when you first met.

“It’s been a while since we were there, huh?” he said. “Why don’t we go back?”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Go where?”

“Home.”

With a strong arm around your waist, he took off for your hometown. You could hardly tell which way was up or down, he was flying so high, but he didn’t seem to mind the way you clung to him at all. When he finally landed, you recognized the community baseball field where all of his fictional games were set. 

“Geez, it’s like nothing’s changed,” he said cheerfully.

You looked at him in disbelief. How long was he going to expect you to go along with it? Or maybe the question you should have been asking was, how long were you going to enable him? The end wasn’t anywhere in sight as he took your hand, and you walked him through your childhood, further enmeshing him in it until you arrived at the house you grew up in. 

The middle of the day, no one was home, and so you let yourselves in like you owned the place. Suddenly, the house seemed too small for a man like Homelander to occupy, but he was engrossed in the details of it. He scanned the kitchen, no doubt inspecting the contents of the fridge and cabinets with his x-ray vision. Moving onto the living room, he stared at photos on the wall, the magazines and DVDs that were strewn on the coffee table, giving away your parents’ taste in entertainment.

“Which one was your room again?” he asked.

You swore you could feel his breath on the back of your neck as you wordlessly led him to your room. Each step down the hall felt dangerous, as if you were about to walk into a trap. Face-to-face with the closed door, you opened it, standing aside while Homelander looked around, from what you had hanging on the walls to the knick-knacks you’d left behind.

An uncomfortable tension settled over the room when Homelander closed the door of your childhood bedroom. An odd blend of hurt and amusement spread across his face as he observed the way you were eyeing him, body ready to fruitlessly run from him the way a rabbit would a hawk.

“C’mon, after how long we’ve been friends, I would never hurt you,” he said, as if reading your mind. “We’ve been through so much together. I mean, we were each other’s first kiss.”

You froze. Issue #9. That was something Vought’s editors had added, claiming a romance angle would make the series appeal to the younger female demographic. You hadn’t thought much of it at the time.

He slyly backed you into the wall, leaning over you as you slinked down the slightest bit.

“Show me how we did it,” he whispered, his hand caressing your cheek. “So clumsy and nervous, I can even feel you…quivering.”

“Homelander, I don’t know what you’re—“

He tsked. “Y/N.”

You let out a shaky breath, “Johnny—“

He hummed in satisfaction. “It’s alright. I know it’s been a while.”

You let him kiss you, sweetly in a way that put your actual first kiss to shame. His lips were soft against yours, his tender movements intentional as he cradled your face, pulling you the slightest bit closer to him when you kissed him back. 

A sense of familiarity settled over you, warm and comforting like pulling a blanket out of the dryer on a chilly evening. Every time it seemed like you were beginning to overthink the situation with Homelander, he drew you back in with the kiss, a more than effective distraction until you pulled away with a dazed smile on your face.

[freyito]

Can you write HDC where Smoke, Kaui Liang and Bihan take care of their girlfriend who's sick? :)

of course! i'm gonna make this for a gender neutral reader tho, since i have a lot of female asks! this might be one of my favorite tropes

cw: fluff!!!, Bi-Han's just a little bit distant, proofread

ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪɴ ᴋᴜᴇɪ ᴛʀɪᴏ + ᴀ ꜱɪᴄᴋ ᴘᴀʀᴛɴᴇʀ

Tomas...

worries over you. He's by your side, 24/7, even if you insist he'll get sick too. He doesn't care, he wants to make sure your okay. Tomas is at your beck and call, making sure your comfortable. Feeling cold? He's got three blankets picked out for you, take one, take all. Want a warm bath? Already drawn, he's even got some florals, candles, and soaks picked out. Thirsty? He's got some green tea already brewed. Or, if you don't like tea, he has some orange juice, or water if you so choose. Tomas has some soup for you, too. Česnečka, a Czech garlic soup. Something he says will cure anything. He'll even sing you a Czech lullaby every night, if you ask nicely. Eventually, when you recover from your cold, and Tomas inevitably ends up falling ill, you'll be there to give him the same treatment.

Bi-Han...

doesn't quite know what to do. Yes, he's worried, but amongst being the grandmaster of the Lin Kuei, and his cold demeanor, he believes he doesn't have much time to worry over you. It is only when Liu Kang- of all people- pushes him in the right direction. With his trust over the Lin Kuei in his brothers hand, he never leaves your bedside. Unless you ask, of course. Bi-Han is very soft with you, and really, all he wants to do is hold you. He knows he can't, but it's kind of hard to hold himself back! While he doesn't know what to do, he will do anything you ask of him, short of kissing you. Bi-Han, unlike Tomas, has some restraint, and he'd rather have you save your strength, and not have to worry about him after your sick. Ask, and ye shall receive. Down to the very specifics. As many blankets as you want, as many pillows as you want, the exact temperature of your bath, what herbs could make you feel better, how to carry you, etc. And, as much as Bi-Han wants you to rest, ultimately, he'll end up giving into those pretty eyes of yours, and go on a walk with you. It's okay, though, the fresh air will do you some good.

Kuai Liang...

dotes over you. He's afraid of you being sick, even if it is just a common cold. Somehow, seeing you weak and bedridden makes his stomach churn. He's worried sick. It's only when Bi-Han tells Kuai Liang to be with you that he fully devotes himself to your care. He is very physically present, he has to be touching you somewhere. Mainly, he keeps your pinkies linked, even in the slightest. The minute he was freed of his duties he had gotten you everything you could possibly need. He has so many teas chosen for you, and even more spicy foods. He wants to make sure you eat well, but Kuai Liang can't say no to you, so when you ask for a cookie, a slice of cake, something sweet that you maybe should avoid, he's still going to get it for you. He will always carry you to your bath, too. And wash your hair. As long as whatever he's doing helps you feel better in any way, he doesn't mind. And afterwards, he'll put new, clean sheets on your bed. Kuai Liang doesn't give himself much room to fail, much less to fail you. So, when you finally regain your strength, it is almost as if Kuai Liang is a new man, more focused and lethal than ever.

© freyito, 2023 | masterlist | queue | kofi DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS.

[astrae4]

MELTING POINT | shen quanrui | TEASER

IN WHICH Emperor Zhanghao uses the imperial command to wed both you and Prince Shen. Normally, one would be happy to be wedded to a prince and become one of the most powerful ladies in the Empire. However, the young master of the Ducal house of Shen is said to be a cold and indifferent man. Oh! And did I mention that your duchy and his are enemies? Right! The cherry on top—I almost forgot that you have a weak body too haha… How will you survive the harsh Northern lands? Will you get along well with your husband? Will you be treated alright in an unfamiliar environment? Shall you just return back to the comfort of your home?

FEATURING Zerobaseone’s Ricky as the son of Duke Shen, Prince Shen Quanrui and you as the daughter of Duke Han, Princess Han Y/N.

GENRE romance, angst, fluff | historical fantasy, supposed enemies to lovers, forced marriage, northern duke au

WARNINGS non-gender neutral reader (reader will be using female pronouns/titles), forced marriage, infidelity, mention of heart attack, mild swearing, and blatant favoritism.

NOTE wc: 1.4k | to be released on AFTER HIATUS, if you want to be tagged when the full oneshot is released, then either comment or send an ask regarding this post. Thank you!

MORE WORKS — navigation | zb1!masterlist

ACT ONE: THE IMPERIAL COMMAND

WHAT DO YOU DO WHEN, all your life, you’ve been told to hate someone because they’re your family’s opponent and then all of a sudden (in a matter of five days), you need to act as if you’ve been on good terms with them? No guidebook or school course could have prepared you for what’s to happen right now.

Yes, of course you’re aware that you’d be married off to your father’s choice of family for all your life, you think you’ve accepted it already. I mean, one would think so after being reminded of it all your life right? It’s not like it’s uncommon anyways. Everyone in the nobility marries through convenience and then has flings with their lovers. It’s more common than you think. You’d know, since you caught one of your father’s friends with their mistress once.

Yet, who’d assume that you’d be married off to the Ducal House of Shen of all people? You don’t think you would have put that in your bingo (yes, bingo exists back then) list this year—or any year to be honest.

For a bit of background to the confused readers (breaking the fourth wall let’s gaurr), The Zerose Empire exists with four ducal houses: Park, which exists in the west; Kim, from the South; Han of the East, and Shen of the North. Your family, The Ducal house of Han, has always been in opposition with the Ducal house of Shen. It was a fact that everyone knew, and it was a dislike that stemmed from way back then. (one so long that you don’t even know the reason anymore, just that you weren’t supposed to like them.)

And yes, the dislike is still rooted to this day. You could imagine how tired the Emperor, other noble houses, and ministry workers were. By this point they were quite sick of the petty arguments from both the ducal households. So sick, in fact, that Emperor Zhanghao IV, used the imperial command and declared that “Duke Han shall bring forth his most beloved daughter to marry Duke Shen’s successor.”

Your father almost had a heart attack after the declaration, but it was of no use to bargain since the imperial command was used.

In your opinion, father was a pretty good man. Not perfect or clean of course, but good. Your mother was the first wife, and surprisingly, the only wife he truly loved. It was unfortunate that mother died a year after you were born because of her weak body, and even more unfortunate that her only child turned out to be pretty weak too. He had remarried once more since then, and has had a few mistresses and children out of wedlock in an attempt to cure his aching heart. Despite the new ladies, you were still the first in his heart considering you were the only child he had out of the wife he loves.

Having a big room beside your father’s in the second floor all to yourself when all the others had to be in the first floor spiked a few jealous hearts, but your father was persistent and only allowed you the best despite your not-so-healthy body. So it was to no one’s surprise that Emperor Zhanghao meant for your father to pick you to be married to the young master of the Shen Ducal house.

That was five days ago. Your father had begged for your understanding to comply with the Emperor’s words despite him not liking the command either. He had told you that it was for the unity of the Empire and that the Ducal house of Shen had promised to your father and the Emperor that they would treat you with utmost respect; and that if they break that promise, you would be sent back with ten times the alimony paid by your father. (and boy was the original alimony already a crazy amount)

You had told your father to not worry about it as you knew your father worried for you greatly. After all, in his eyes, you were still the weak baby that he held in his arms just last week. How could he send a weak child to the harsh northern lands where you were unfamiliar with everything? Of course, you had your own worries too. Different from your father’s, though. Mostly about your own soon to be husband.

Unlike your family, where many children reside, the Ducal house of Shen only had one heir. The young master of the North, Shen Quanrui, was said to be a cold man according to the rumors you’ve heard from your maids. He was quiet and reserved, only showing his face in high society once in a blue moon. Similar to you in that matter, except it was because you were often too sick to attend rather than introverted.

You too had only met him once, in the Empire’s founding anniversary ball. Though you didn’t have the best memory, you could easily recall that face of his. Blonde hair that seemed to be dyed and striking blue eyes, it was as if he stepped out of a fantasy storybook. You’re sure he wore colored contacts back then, considering that both the Duke and Duchess had dark eyes. Nevertheless it didn’t change the fact that he was probably the most handsome man you’ve ever seen. You remember exchanging eye contact with him for a bit longer than you should have, and you remember how he raked your appearance with his eyes as if he was the hunter and you were the prey. You rolled your eyes and left back then despite the butterflies you got.

The sound of your bedroom door opening strips you out of your imagination.

”Sister,” said the voice of a young boy, “can I come in?”

”Yes,” you answered, “come in, Yujin.”

Han Yujin, the son of your father and his second mistress, was the only half-sibling you deemed close to you. His mother had died early on due to the same sickness as yours did, leaving him alone to fend off all the jealous eyes around him. You had sympathized with him, so you decided to keep him close and make him untouchable as one of your people. The young boy has since then grown attached to you, listening attentively to everything you say. Now, the young boy had become strong and wise, making him one of the successor candidates.

”I heard from father that you’d be married to that damned man, Shen Quanrui or whatever,” Sulked Yujin.

”That damned man,” you sighed, “is still a respectable man who fended off the wild beasts and is a close aide of the Emperor, you shouldn’t speak of him with that tone.”

“But—sister! He’s our enemy, we’re not supposed to like him! And—and, I heard from the maids that he’s a cruel and heartless man. What if he treats you harshly and locks you up in a tower or something!? What if he’s an indifferent husband who never looks after his wife and just messes around with other women? You deserve someone who’d love you and treat you as the apple of their eye—someone like—”

”Yujin,” Your voice stopped his train of thoughts as you held his hand, “don’t worry too much, okay? It’s not like I’m going there alone. My personal maids and Dr. Seok would be with me in the North, and they would report to father if anything happened. If he ever treats me cruelly, then I’ll be back here before you know it.”

”But still…I don’t want you away from me..”

“AWEE is my baby brother worried for me~” you teased as you squished him into a hug, emitting a loud Hey! from him as he tried to get out of your tight grasp.

Whether your words were to reassure him or you; however, you don’t know.

Who would have known that you’d get married to that man two weeks from now? Who would have known that you’d have to pretend like you didn’t hate this man all your life because you’re supposed to marry him? Who would have known that the first time you’d exchange pleasantries with your soon to be husband would be in your wedding aisle? Who would have known that you’d be moving away from your father’s protection and into the cold and dangerous land in less than a month? Goodness, may the heavens spare you.

TAGLIST — @ja4hyvn @flwoie @sulkygyu @xiaoderrrr @ineedaherosavemeenow @lonewolfjinji @teddywonss

© astrae4 2024 | please don’t copy, translate, or plagiarize my works on all platforms!

[roseghoul26]

Part 2: ...It Will Come Back

Logan Howlett | Worst Wolverine x gn!Reader

Synopsis: Logan gets to know his next-door neighbor. Tags: Not Beta Read, Title From Hozier Song, It Will Come Back - Hozier, Next-Door Neighbor, Older Man/Younger Person, Reader Is Mid-20s, Logan Is 200, Reader Is Described As Shorter Than Logan, Gender-Neutral Pronouns For Reader, AFAB Reader, Fem Anatomy, Logan Is Down Bad, Horrendously Actually, He's A Little Pathetic, Alcohol Consumption, One-Sided Attraction, Not Actually One-Sided, Talks Of Masturbation, Cuddling, Nightmares, Morbid Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Mentions Of Throwing Up, Angst, Angst With Comfort, Smut, Virign!Reader, First Time, Bit Of A Pain Kink, Okay Major Pain Kink, Hair Pulling, Cunnilingus, Face Fucking (male receiving)(?), Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Protected Sex, Feelings Realization Author's Note: y’all know that one scene where he puts the cigar out on his hand? cannot stop thinking about it someone sedate me also this chapter does have a pretty grotesque nightmare scene so head up (just bloody and violent, body horror is the best way to describe it even though it’s not that accurate). Taglist: @kemi707 @moonixlity @chexrybloss0m @foreverwing223 Part 1 ❉ Part 2

It had been two weeks since that night.

He’d been over three times since then, and currently stood outside your door, waiting for a fourth. He would’ve been over more, if he had the time, and didn’t want to seem too eager, even though every nerve in his body itched to be in your presence. 

It was strange. He thought his infatuation with you would die after the novelty wore off, but it was just as strong as the first day, and even more so. Like a sickness, it had taken its hold on his body, his brain, his heart, but he needed no cure. And he found he wasn’t going through the motions of life anymore, just passing the day by until something big happened. You were the big thing; he had something to look forward to now.

Most nights were the same with you. You’d serve dinner, usually leftovers from earlier in the week, but it was still the best food he’d eaten in a while. And Logan would find some way to repay you, usually by getting you to tell him about a maintenance project you’d been “forgetting” to do. You’d given up on trying to tell him it was unnecessary, only providing an amused shake of your head. 

The nights ended with the two of you sitting on the couch, chatting like you had the first time, but nothing more. The conversations varied widely, but never once again had either of you brought up his mutation. At this point, he was almost scared to tell you about them. It wasn’t entirely his fault that it hadn’t been brought up, but he certainly was withholding information that you deserved to know. 

He’d gotten braver in a different way, or “grew a pair”, as Wade had said, letting his fingers graze against your hand, resting his hand on the small of your back as he navigated around your apartment. And, to his immense relief, you liked it, a small shiver and one of those small smiles pulling at your lips. It was the only way he knew that you wanted something deeper than a platonic relationship. 

But that was the extent of anything physical happening. That desire, that hunger, still ravaged his body, yet he made no move to relieve it. The familiarity and comfort of the “routine” the two of you had created was like a safety blanket; as long as he stayed beneath its protection, didn’t step over the proverbial line in the sand, he wouldn’t lose you. He could make himself be fine with these brief touches if that meant you were still here with him, and he’d go at your pace for as long as it took.

But now he stood outside your door, much like a stray scratched at someone’s door once they’d offered them food. Kindness. Safety. He knocked before he thought too much about it. It echoed throughout the hallway, and he shifted on his feet as he waited.

He heard some commotion from the other side, your familiar voice making him smile. He’d found he’d been smiling more, and he liked to think it was because of these late-night meetings. And he wouldn’t admit it, but he rather enjoyed not having a constant scowl etched on his features, no furrow between his brows. 

The door opened after a few seconds of waiting, your face a bright beacon that dazzled him still. Like clockwork, that familiar twist in his gut appeared, a fluttering feeling that either made him feel ill or weightless. 

You smiled at him, just like you always did; he would do anything to keep you reacting to him like that. “Hi, Logan,” you spoke normally, but you might as well have been purring his ear, the way he had to fight back a shiver. Taking a step back, you wordlessly let him into your apartment, a place that was now starting to become familiar to him, or at least part of it; what he’d give to become as acquainted with the other rooms.

The night went on as normal, eating and chatting a second nature now, a familiar dance. You’d talk, he’d respond. He’d make a joke, you’d laugh. He’d let his fingers drag over your hand, your face would duck down, a sharp inhale from you that he could only hear because of his enhancements. A back-and-forth; he just didn’t know how much longer he could go before he broke.

“Is there anythin’ you need from me, sweetheart?” I’d give you my heart if you just asked.

“Not tonight, no.” You laughed at his incredulous look. “I swear! But…”

“But?” 

“There has been this movie I’ve been wanting to watch.” You still had a bit of laughter in your voice, yet there was now an air of uncertainty to it. 

He didn’t even have to know what movie you wanted to watch. The possibility of having you close to him was the only thing that was important to him. He was getting ahead of himself; the most that had happened was those light brushes and touches. But now could be the moment to change that, he supposed. 

“I guess,” he grumbled, shooting you a playful smirk to let you know that he wasn’t opposed. Far from it. 

He hated the small flicker of relief that flashed in your eyes. Like he could ever say “no” to you. Standing, you quickly made your way to the couch, Logan following closely behind, sitting in his usual spot against the armrest. And you would’ve sat in your spot, if it wasn’t for the feline currently occupying it, sleeping without a care in the world. 

He watched as your eyes flicked from your spot to the unoccupied one in the center next to Logan, and then finally to him. You were uncertain, but beneath that, he could see the longing in your eyes. “I won’t bite,” he found himself saying without much thought, gesturing to the unopened spot, a teasing grin on his face, “unless you want me to.” It was cheesy, yes, but effective. 

That was something he’d started doing, over the past few weeks. Teasing you. No longer accidental innuendo, his words were intentional, and set on getting you as flustered as possible. It reminded him of back when he was younger, cocky and self-assured, unabashedly flirtatious. It’d been a while since he’d flexed those muscles, but they worked just as easily as they had in the past. The roll of your eyes was forced, the grin you tried to bite back telling you all that he needed to know. 

He could feel the heat from your body when you sat next to him, barely an inch between you two. Maybe he was being over-confident, but he rested his arm across your shoulder, truly feeling like a teenager on a first date at a movie theatre. And when you tensed for a second, he worried he’d crossed a line. But when you melted into his embrace, something like a relieved sigh escaping you, any hesitations left his mind. 

You were resting against his chest now, the TV screen painting the room in an unnatural glow, images flashing across the screen out of his periphery. You were saying something, too, but he couldn’t make it out, too caught up in the haze he was in at your proximity. The smell of you, God, he could get drunk off of it. And maybe he already was, with the way his head spun, unable to focus on anything but you. 

“Does that sound good?”

Shit, you’d been talking to him about the movie. He found himself nodding in agreement, and if you suspected that he hadn’t been listening, you did a good job of hiding it. You just settled back against his chest, your legs stretched out, but placed in a way to avoid Maize. 

He never thought he’d be so thankful for a fucking cat. 

The movie started, but Logan only caught glimpses of it. Some kind of action/drama, he wasn’t quite sure. How could he pay attention to the movie, when there was a far better sight lying on his chest, smiling and enjoying the movie? And when that smile broadened as he let his hand move up and down your arm, the movie was an afterthought, background noise at this point.

He wasn’t sure how long it had been, time insignificant to him, when he felt your body go lax, something fluttering in his heart when he realized you’d fallen asleep on him. The pure trust you had in him, that hit like a punch to the stomach, nearly making him recoil. You… you shouldn’t place this much trust in him. You’d shoved something fragile, delicate into his hands, hands that could only drop and destroy such things. 

He should wake you, get you as far away from him as possible.

But he watched as your face furrowed in your sleep, affection and something else hitting him so strongly that he was grateful he was already sitting down. Prying the remote from your hands proved an easy task, and tried to not linger on just how soft your fingers were. Shutting off the TV, he somehow was able to get himself off the couch without waking you, completely unaware of the turmoil wracking his brain. 

Picking you up bridal style, he was glad he knew where your room was so that he wasn’t blundering around like a fool. It took some effort, only because his eyes kept landing on your face rather than the space around him, but he eventually made his way to your room, laying you on the bed gently. Wrapping the blankets around your body, he debated pressing a kiss to your temple but thought against it. He was just about to leave when he heard your voice call out, laden with sleep, nearly inaudible. 

“Stay?”

Fuck, he shouldn’t. He really, really shouldn’t. But it was like you’d put a spell on him, your soft plea impossible to deny. And the way you were looking at him now, sleepy eyes so full of genuine longing for him; he found he couldn’t say no. He didn’t want to say no, no matter how much he should’ve.

With a soft sigh, he relented, slipping beneath the blankets on the other side of your bed. As uncomfortable as it was to sleep in jeans, he refused to undress, not wanting you to wake up and see him bare, and with no clue of what transpired. He’s slept in far worse, anyway. And with the sheer presence of you surrounding him, he doubted it would be hard for him to sleep, anyway. 

He expected you to keep your distance but was proven wrong when he felt your chest press against his, having turned to face him. He didn’t get to look at you for long before you buried your head beneath his chin, arms and legs wrapping around his body, effectively trapping him. Not that he’d want to be anywhere else.

He heard you doze off again, muttering something completely indistinguishable. Finally giving into the earlier temptation, he let his lips brush the top of your head, inhaling deeply, praying that he wouldn’t wake up to your regretful face.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

There was blood. 

Too much blood. 

It coated everything as far as the eye could see, a scarlet paint that glistened in the moonlight. When he looked down at his hand, they seemed to be the source of it, as familiar as an old friend. His claws were out, no sliver of the metal visible. 

Glancing around, the ground shifted; what was once a flat, crimson landscape was now covered in mounds, at least fifteen feet high. Mounds of bodies. He tried to take a step, but his ankle stepped on something soft, malleable. 

Looking down, the ground beneath his feet was no longer, well, ground. Countless bodies now littered the floor, their faces twisted in horror and pain, eternally sketched onto their features. And their faces weren’t unknown to him, either, a sense of dread washing over him as with each body he saw, their faces were immediately recognizable. Xavier. Scott. Jean. Wade. Too many faces to name. 

They were all looking at him now, faces that were once twisted in pain now in anger. Betrayal. The blood on his hands now made sense, the various slashes and holes that he now saw across their bodies now painting a bloody picture. 

He heard footsteps behind him, fast footsteps, completely unaffected by the difficult terrain. He was almost like a feral animal, the way he spun with a snarl, claws ready at his side. It was like he was moving on instinct, but there was a voice in his mind, his voice, praying for all this to stop. He just ignored it, drowning it out with the slow, methodical beat of his heart. 

Boom. 

Boom. 

BOOM.

His heartbeat morphed into a canon fire, making his ears ring, as he watched a shadowed figure run towards him. They ran, yet they seemed to glide over the grotesque terrain, completely unaffected. It was as if they were made of smoke; he swore he could see through their form. 

The shadowed figure didn’t stop, not even as Logan braced himself for an attack, crouching down low. It was when the intruder got within a few feet of him that he sprung, claws plunging right into the belly of the stranger.

He expected his hands to go right through. 

Instead, they connected with something solid, something warm. Flesh. His lips were pulled into a snarl as he watched his blades sink in, which turned into a look of horror when he watched the shadow fall from their body. 

Your body. 

He could hear the air leave your body upon impact, unimaginable pain in your eyes as you stared into his. He screamed at himself to remove his claws, and he, thankfully, listened. It was like he’d been caught in a bloodlust, and he’d just now snapped out of it. 

He caught you before your body hit the ground. The ground, which was back to normal, but all he could focus on was you. The way your blood now coated his hands as it pooled out of your stomach, out between your lips. Desperately, futilely, he pressed down on your stomach, the cry of pain you let out making tears spring to his eyes. 

“Fuck… fuck…” Blood pooled between his fingers. Too much blood. Your eyes, always filled with light and joy, were starting to dim. And then the anguish he felt when he saw fear flashed through them, using your last remaining strength to push away from him, wrapping your weakening hands around his wrists. “I-I… I didn’t mean…”

It was too late. Too late for explanations, for apologies. The damage had been done; there was nothing he could say or do that could change that. He could feel the way your hands began to slacken, growing weaker by the second, your eyes fluttering close. “No, no, sweetheart,” he pressed down harder as if that could fix it, “Keeps those eyes on me. Please.”

He could barely recognize his own voice.

But you listened, your eyes opening once more. But he almost preferred if you closed them, that way he didn’t have to see the pain, the fear, the betrayal. All because of him.

He couldn’t help the pained cry that tore from his throat. And to think he thought he could have someone like you in his life and not have it end any other way. 

Your lips were moving, now, but he couldn’t hear you over the high-pitched ringing in his ears. It was just one word, on repeat, and despite his best efforts, he could feel himself getting entranced by the way your lips moved, the horrific scene around him becoming blurry. 

Then he realized you were saying his name. 

Logan. 

Logan.

“Logan!”

It was like someone flipped a switch, your voice now hitting his ears, completely audible now. And you were no longer in his arms, but rather leaning above him, a hand on his shoulder, shaking him. When you saw his eyes, you pulled back, barely in time to avoid getting toppled over by the force he sat up at. 

His breathing came in heavy pants, his heartbeat the complete opposite of the one in his dream. Nightmare. It had all been a fucking nightmare, the relief unimaginable as he took in his surroundings. It was no longer the bloody landscape, but a room. Your room.

Nightmares weren’t uncommon for him. At least once a week, he’d wake with a start, claws ready to swipe at an unseen enemy, drenched in a cold sweat. He should’ve known better than to fall asleep in your bed. He was supposed to be strong, relied upon by you. God, he should’ve known better. 

He forced himself to look over to the other side of the bed, still expecting to see your wounded body. How grateful he was that you were sitting upright, kneeling beside him on the bed, worry making your brow furrow as your eyes scanned over him. Your eyes, which were no longer filled with distrust and pain, but of genuine concern.

“You… I…” He couldn’t get a sentence out, his body forcing oxygen in and out of his body at such a rapid pace.

“Breathe, Logan,” your voice was firm, but far from uncaring. “You’re alright. Just take a deep breath for me.”

It was like his body was wired to follow your orders, a shaky yet longer inhale finally gracing his lungs. You nodded your approval, yet no less worried. He hated that he was the cause of it. “Now out. Slowly.”

It took a few more deep breaths by your instruction until he didn’t feel like he was suffocating, yet his heart had yet to slow down. “Are you alright?” Was the first thing he said when he could talk, his voice surprisingly hoarse. 

Confusion flashed across your face, which quickly turned into surprised understanding. You didn’t respond, not right away. Instead, you let your fingers brush his wrist, a silent question, not sure if he wanted to be touched yet. When he nodded once, you wrapped your hand around it, but instead of pulling him away, you tugged him towards you, resting his hand against your chest. 

“I’m alright,” you finally spoke, your voice gentle. He could feel it beneath his fingers, and then the beat of your heart. It was constant. Strong. You were alright. 

“You’re bleeding.”

He barely heard you, entranced by the rhythm of your heart, feeling as his own heart slowed to match yours. You’re alright, he repeated in his head. He could barely feel the familiar sting between his fingers. 

“Logan, your hands. They’re bleeding.”

It was the urgency in your voice that finally snapped him out of the trance, finally focusing on the hand that rested on your chest. To his horror, you were right, the space between his knuckles was now splotched with congealed blood. It was nothing to the scene he’d created in his mind, but for a moment, he saw his hands once again covered in your blood, and he swore he was going to be sick.

Bolting from the bed, he stumbled over his own feet as he practically ran to the kitchen, not even waiting for the water to warm before he scrubbed his hands. 

And scrubbed.

He scrubbed until his hands stung, then faded as his powers kicked in. He didn’t hear you as you approached, calling his name out softly. But not patronizingly. He almost wanted you to be, so that he didn’t have to know how deeply you cared about him during his weakest. He didn’t want you to see him like this. 

A warm presence made itself known beside him, yet not touching. He saw as you turned off the water, a towel in your other hand. You held out an open hand, and it took a few seconds of hesitating before he was resting one of his hands in yours. 

You were so gentle as you dried his hands. Hands that had inflicted unimaginable pain unto you, you were now regarded as delicate objects, a small frown on your face as you worked. 

Nightmare, he reminded himself. It was just a nightmare. 

“Just a nightmare,” you echoed, making him realize that he’d spoken aloud. 

He watched as you dried his other hand, the act doing more to calm his pounding heart than he thought. Beneath the whirlwind of emotions that whipped around his mind, there was a warm sensation, one that started in the chest, and blossomed out across his buzzing nerves, calming them. 

The world wasn’t spinning anymore; you were there to ground him. 

“Are you bleeding anywhere else?”

Your eyes roamed over his body, and he could feel the concern radiating from you. He shook his head. He knew exactly what had caused the blood; he just didn’t know if you’d seen it. 

His response just made your brows furrow deeper, looking almost like him. “Then how…” he heard you mutter to yourself, only picking it up because of his enhancements. “You’re being honest?” Your confusion was understandable, seeing blood between his knuckles with no explanation, no wound remaining as evidence. It was just there. 

“I swear.”

You sighed lightly, your worry not letting up. Tossing the towel to the counter beside you, he expected you to drop his hand but was pleasantly surprised when you wove your fingers through his instead. If only you knew the images that still haunted his mind. 

“Do you remember when you asked me if I was more than just a construction worker?” He wasn’t quite sure why he decided now was the time to tell you. Maybe he knew you deserved an answer. Or maybe he knew he didn’t have to bear this weight alone any longer. Either way, it was too late for him to back out, your head tilting in confusion. 

“And then how I said you weren’t wrong.”

“Logan, you don’t gotta-”

“Please.” His voice was still so hoarse. “If I don’t tell you now, then I never fucking will.”

“Alright.” It was quieter than a whisper. 

“How much do you know about Wade? About his… abilities?”

“I know he can’t die,” you responded. “Grows back limbs, survives the impossible. Are… are you the same?”

“Essentially the same,” he muttered, not wanting to get into the finer details. 

If anything, you just looked more confused now. He didn’t have to read your mind to know what you were thinking. What does this have to do with anything?

“And… there’s a bit more to it.”

As much as he didn’t want to pull away from your hold, he did, holding it close to his chest. As far away as he could from you. 

He felt the familiar sting as he let his claws extend; what once used to hurt was background noise. As the adamantium blades stood in all their glory, a ring of red grew where they appeared from the skin. 

Your answer to where the blood came from.

As quickly as they appeared, they were gone, rescinding back into his skin with a soft metallic noise. And, like always, the skin began to close not even a second later, with no evidence of his claws existing besides the small patches of blood. 

He hadn’t looked at you once during this time, not wanting to see the fear, the disgust he knew he was going to see. But he forced himself to meet your eye; he wasn’t sure if he liked that your expression barely changed. You were silent, and he couldn’t stand and wait for you to respond; he was too fucking scared.

He turned back toward the sink, washing his hands for what felt like the millionth time that night. When he reached for the towel, however, he found that it was gone, nearly jumping when he felt you grasp his hand again. 

It was almost pathetic, the shaky exhale he let out when he felt you begin to dry his hands, just as gently as you had before. Acceptance. There was no disgust or fear on your face; he was foolish for thinking that you would hold that kind of reaction. He felt like he could breathe again, free of the weight that had plagued him for so long. 

Even when his hands were dry, you didn’t let go, bringing one of his hands closer to your face. You met his eye, then, your free hand hovered above, a silent question in the act. He nodded, still partially convinced it was all some trick. 

He shivered when he felt your fingers drag across his knuckles, then down, following the prominent tendons and veins in his hand. “They’re in here?” He swore you nearly sounded in awe. Just like always, there was no other intention in your questions except for sheer curiosity. 

“Yes.” His voice was shaky once again, this time because of the way you trailed your fingers across his hand, nearly reverent in your motions. 

They stilled for a second. “Do they hurt you?” There was a genuine worry to your tone; it made his heart ache. That warm feeling was like a goddamn inferno now, ready to consume him.

“I’ve gotten used to it.”

Another few moments passed of you simply touching him, the most you’d ever done. It made his head spin, for a good reason this time. “Were…” your voice was hesitant, cautious, “were you afraid that I was going to, well, be afraid? Is that why you didn’t tell me earlier?”

You’d just read him like a fucking book. “Why aren’t you afraid?” To any other person, those words would be a threat, one that would send them running. But he nearly sounded incredulous, suspended in disbelief. 

“You’ve given me no reason to be.”

The pure honesty in your voice nearly forced him to believe you. Nearly. “You… you don’t know the things I’ve done, sweetheart. The people I’ve hurt. Betrayed. Let down. People I know. People I care about. People I love. They’ve got reason to be fucking afraid. And you should be, too.”

He was trying to push you away. You both knew it. He just couldn’t bear the idea of his nightmares becoming reality. This was for your own good, for your wellbeing. You needed to get as far away from him as you could. 

“But I’m not.” You punctuated every word, drilling it into his brain. Your fingers now grasped his hand, squeezing it tight. “There are many things I feel when I look at you, Longan. Fear has never been one of them.”

“Not yet.”

“Not ever.”

“You don’t fuckin’ know that. I could hurt you, just like in my dreams-”

“Dreams, darling. Just dreams. Nasty, horrible dreams, but dreams nonetheless.” He could feel your thumb rubbing circles into his hand. He wondered if you could feel the way his heart spiked at the endearment, body melting under the warmth of your affections. 

He could feel the pillars of his argument crumble away into nothingness, the barriers he’d forced up falling with every word from your lips, every gentle stroke of your hand. You were marching straight towards his heart, his scared, wounded heart, but your arms were open wide, free of any weapon. 

“I don’t wanna hurt you.” It was one last-ditch attempt, but he knew it was unconvincing the moment the words left him.

“You won’t, Logan.”

He could make himself believe you. For now. 

He wasn’t sure how long the two of you stood there, you never once letting go of his hand. The urge to reach out, to gather you in his arms, tugged at him like a siren’s call, but he feared he wouldn’t be able to stop there. Affection thrummed so strongly in his heart, that it nearly knocked him off his feet, body burning alive. It was a welcome sensation. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell ya earlier.”

You shook your head at that. “You don’t gotta apologize. I understand why you didn’t say anything, but I hope you’ll be more honest in the future. I wanna help you, and I… I want you to trust me. To let me in. To be a part of your life.”

It took a few moments for him to register what exactly you were saying, and for the first time since he woke, a smile found itself tugging at his lips. Not a smirk, not a grin. A genuine fucking smile; he doubted he’d recognize himself in the mirror. 

He let his free hand sneak behind your body, resting on the small of your back. A sharp inhale left you when he tugged you close, but he could see the excitement in your widened eyes. Nervous, yes, but excited. 

He dropped your hand, but he didn’t go without feeling your skin for long. He let his hand hold the side of your face; he doesn’t think he’s ever concentrated this hard on being gentle. It still stunned him, just how beautiful you were, gazing up at him with stars in your eyes. He was scared of dimming them, but damn if he wasn’t gonna try and keep them blazing bright. 

“Can I be honest right now?”

He felt you nod, your eyes dancing across his face. The tense and despair-ridden atmosphere from earlier had dissipated, a charged and heated one taking its place. That hunger, that desire, which he’d worked so hard to reign in, was breaking free of its confines; he didn’t think he’d have to hold out much longer, though. 

“I’d really like to fuckin’ kiss you.”

Even with the way his hand cradled your face, the way he pressed you in close, you nearly seemed surprised. He watched as you swallowed nervously, teeth pulling gently at your bottom lip. How he craved it to be his teeth, dragging and nipping at your skin. You just needed to give him the go-ahead. 

He didn’t have to wait long. Your voice was airy when you spoke, nodding in tandem with your words. “Alright.”

The corner of his mouth tilted up, the only proof of the fucking elation he felt. He’d no longer have to imagine what your lips would feel like, taste like. Leaning down, he heard the slight intake in your breath, the proximity making you just as dizzy as it was making him. 

His lips were millimeters away, anticipation heavy in the air. He felt like he should say something, words on the tip of his tongue, but his ability to speak them was lost. It didn’t matter; he was never good with his words anyway. His actions were what talked. 

So he closed the distance, the press of your lips sending electricity coursing through his body. His imagination didn’t even begin to it justice; he’d failed to capture the warmth. You were soft and warm and alive. A pleased hum left him, passing through his body into yours, making you shiver in his hold.

He kept the kiss short, wanting nothing more than to devour you, but he was going to take this slow, do it right. You deserved that, and so much more. Your eyes were hooded when he looked, a new hunger in them that he’d never seen before. Or maybe it had always existed, and he just refused to believe it was real. That you were real. That this was real. If he woke up from a dream right now, his disappointment would be immeasurable, but he wouldn’t be surprised.

He still held you, thumb rubbing your cheek affectionately, and you practically melted into the touch. “Logan.” your voice was hushed, already sounding wrecked, and the pure want he felt radiate from it was enough to make him stifle a groan.

“You want more, sweetheart?” 

He could feel the grip on his control falter when you nodded, a desperation in your actions that made him think you’d wanted him just as long as he had you. A question for later, then. “Only if you’re up for it.”

So much for keeping it slow.

He’d nearly forgotten the reason why the two of you were standing in your kitchen. Your words had done much to comfort him, your actions even more so, and even though there were still inklings of doubt and fear still lingering in his mind, they were easy to ignore right now. You were safe. You were alive. And for some fucking reason, you trusted him wholly. 

“I’ve been up for it since I saw ya, pretty thing struggling to get their door open.”

“You think I’m pretty?” He hated how disbelieving you sounded. 

Titling your head back gently, he let his nose bump against yours, his lips just ghosting over yours. You watched with hitched breath, eyes struggling to stay open. There were so many things he could say, should say. Words like gorgeous and stunning bounced around his head, but he was so close to kissing you again that all verbal functions in his brain ceased to exist again. “Very, very pretty,” was all he could say, before he once again descended on your lips.

The first kiss had been nearly chaste, gentle. A testing of the waters. 

This kiss was anything but that, an overwhelming neediness from both sides. He kissed you like it was the last thing he’d ever do, lips eagerly moving against yours, fingers tightening where he held you like he was afraid you’d slip away. 

He could feel you hesitate, right at the start, but it didn’t take long until you were reciprocating, hands now resting on his chest. Your movements were uncertain, yet your eagerness more than made up for your lack of finesse. It made him feel desired, wanted, a heady sensation. 

But it made him realize just how much more experience he had compared to you. Reservations once again flashed in his mind: you were young, this was wrong, you deserved someone your own age. But with how sweetly you were kissing him, he found himself losing grip on those thoughts, until they fell to the wayside, completely forgotten.

The hands on his chest tightened into fists when he let his tongue drag against your bottom lip, a light tease. The hand on your back moved forward, over your ribs, to where it began to toy beneath the hem of your shirt, caressing the velvety skin of your stomach. With every graze of his nails, every brush of his fingers, you shivered, tensed, and hitched your breathing. He felt like he was playing an instrument, pulling those sounds and reactions from you like he’d just strummed his fingers over the string of a guitar.

“You’re so fuckin’ responsive,” he muttered to himself between kisses. “It’s been a bit since you’ve been touched like this, hasn’t it?” Just like it has been for him. He doesn’t remember the last time he’d been touched with a kind hand, at least before he met you.

You froze, pulling away slightly, looking like a deer in the headlights. He called out your name, a question, wracking his memory as to what put you off. Of course, I fucked it up. 

“I…” you trailed off, embarrassment flickering across your face. “No one’s ever…” you trailed off again, but he didn’t need you to complete your sentence.

He’d be a liar if he said the green monster inside of him wasn’t absolutely thrilled at the fact that no one had ever had you like this. Wanting. Needing. Lips swollen and parted for him. Your hesitancy over the past weeks made sense now; it wasn’t a lack of wanting, not like he feared. He couldn’t help the grin that fell across his face, a carnal need to show you all that you’ve been missing, all that you deserved, taking over his mind. 

Another realization made itself known in his heart; he was sure if it ached anymore, it would never work properly again. You weren’t lying when you said you trusted him.

“That was your first kiss?” Well, kisses, but he wasn’t focused on logistics right now. 

He could feel your cheek warming beneath his palm. “Logan…” you whined, shy. 

It made him chuckle, a low, gravelly sound. “No one’s ever touched you?” His fingers once again brushed beneath your shirt, your muscles instinctually jumping. 

Your silence was the only response he needed. 

He let himself lean in, past your lips, letting them graze across your cheek. They rested outside the shell of your ear, the temptation to pull at with his teeth a near insurmountable one. “No one’s ever fucked you?”

That made you gasp. Whether it was his crude words or how he spoke lowly into your ear, he wasn’t sure. All he knew was that you now had a death grip on his shirt, shaking your head in response to his question. 

He tsked, pulling back, a teasing look on his face. “And I thought we were bein’ honest with each other, sweetheart. How long were ya gonna wait to tell me?”

The look you shot him made him laugh, incredulous through the haze of lust. “You know that’s not what I meant. It’s… it’s not the same as-”

“Oh, but it is. Closely guarded secret, weren’t gonna say nothin’ until I asked. Exactly the same.” The hand holding your face finally shifted down, down your neck, your shoulders, ghosting over your ribs until it settled on your hip. “Want me to change that?” He intended for the words to sound cocky, assured, yet they came out sounding desperate. Craving. 

Your chuckle died in your throat, turning it into a softer, needier noise. “Please.”

He wasn’t sure who closed the distance this time, both of you surging forward, a messy collision of lips. He felt you make a surprised noise when his hands trailed down your thighs, and in one easy motion lifted you into his arms, your legs instantly locking around his waist. Not once did his lips escape yours, not even as he set you on the kitchen table, the wood groaning in warning. If he wasn’t so fucking eager for you, he would’ve taken you to the bed. He’d get there tonight. Eventually. 

Fingers once again found the side of your face, this time tilting your head back to expose the tantalizing expanse of your neck. He abandoned your lips in favor of it, immediately kissing and sucking at the delicate skin there, slowly moving down. He even let his teeth graze against the column of your throat, but never hard enough to leave a mark. Never to mark. 

Leaving your mouth free meant that he got to hear each delicious pant and noise that escaped you, echoing and engraving themselves in his mind. They drove him wild, even more so when he remembered that he was the cause of them. And no one else had ever had the pleasure of hearing them. The fact made his smile against your skin, how having reached the base of your throat, nuzzling into the crook of your neck.

You leaned back, your arms braced behind you, and the sound of wood creaking once again filled the room. “If the table breaks…” you warned, no real threat in your words.

“You know I’ll fix it for ya,” he chuckled, lifting his face to press his lips against the hollow of your throat, before letting his tongue drag a stripe back up your neck, tasting the salt on your skin. “And then we’ll just have to break it again. And again.”

A whispered, “Oh, God,” fell from your lips. Only me, he would’ve said if talking wasn’t the last thing on his mind. He captured your lips again, tongue pressing into your mouth with zero hesitations, needing to taste you. He could feel your responding groan, one hand abandoning its hold on the table to once again rest against his chest. He expected to feel your hand wander, but it held still, though he could feel the twitch in your fingers as you craved to feel him.

“Touch me,” he broke away momentarily to speak, and he felt your fingers twitch again. “C’mon, sweetheart. Let me feel those hands.”

He nearly shuddered when you finally moved, running your hand up his chest, up to his neck. Just like always, your touch was gentle, reserved, which was lovely, but he wanted to feel the evidence of his effects on you. He wanted to feel your nails digging into his arms, scratch down his back, tangle your fingers in his hair, and pull. He wanted to feel your teeth sink into his flesh; the mark wouldn’t last long, this he knew, but it would be enough. Just maybe he’d be able to dissolve those hesitancies. 

So he hummed under your delicate exploration with your fingers, letting you get used to him, the way he felt. He felt as your fingers cradled his jaw, scratching at the facial hair there, but not as hard as he would’ve liked. It was certainly a pleasant sensation, though, his eyes threatening to fall close with every scratch of your nails. And when your fingers traveled to his hair, nails running along his scalp, he couldn’t help the small sigh that left him.

He loved the way your eyes lit up at his audible reaction, and he could see you storing that away for later. God, how he hoped there would be a later. You had no idea just how tightly you had him wrapped around your finger. If you told him to leave and never come back, he would, but he would live the rest of his life in misery, waiting to hear from you one last time. 

It was you who pulled him into a kiss, one that quickly turned heated. Hands were moving freely now, one of your hands still in his hair, your other wandering across the expanse of his chest and abdomen. His own were toying with the waistband of your pants, pausing to look at you. “May I?”

There were no doubts in your eyes when you nodded, Logan thanking you with another kiss. The first part was the easiest, getting the button undone, as well as the zipper. The second part, which was still easy, just required a bit more maneuvering. He felt as you prepared to lift your hips to assist, but he was already ahead of you, one hand wrapping under your arm, the other gripping the waistband of your jeans. It was no effort at all, to lift you with one arm, and to pull your pants down over your hips. And if your undergarments also came off in that tug, who was he to complain?

You were staring at him with wide eyes, a look he momentarily mistook for distaste. But the darkening of your eyes quickly corrected that statement. You didn’t say anything, just looking at him in amazement, fingers wandering down his muscled arm. But he could feel the way your legs tensed from where he stood between them, an even more ravenous hunger in your eyes. You enjoyed being lifted like you weighed nothing. Just like you had, he stored that info for later. Something to explore later, maybe even later tonight. 

The surprised noise you made when he dropped to his knees nearly made him chuckle if he wasn’t so entranced by the sight in front of him. Your mouth, glistening in the low light, parted as you stared down at him. The heavy rise and fall of your chest beneath your shirt, yet waiting for his next move with bated breath. Your exposed pussy, evidence of your arousal visible, and all for him. 

“Fuckin’ beautiful.”

The grin he had on his face, he knew, was nothing more than arrogant, but he couldn’t help himself. Hooking one of your legs over his shoulder, he pressed a kiss to the inside of your thigh, never once breaking eye contact.

He pressed another one, this one a little closer to your center. He was practically fucking salivating, the urge to just start devouring you like a starved man would a full-course dinner. But the desire to make this enjoyable for you helped him curb his hunger. 

The third and final kiss was pressed right at the junction of your hip and thigh, millimeters away from where he ached to be. Where you ached for him to be if the hand that carded into his hair told him anything. Who was he to deny such a simple request?

It only took one pass of his tongue through your folds for him to become addicted. 

The way you tasted, the way your thighs clenched around his head, the soft pant of his name. Fuck, he loved it all. He continued to lap at you, broad swipes that left you keening and wanting more. Your fingers, which had a hold on his hair, pulled tight, and he fucking moaned. 

He saw the alarm in your eyes before you tried to yank your hand away, afraid you’d done something he didn’t like. He caught your wrist before you could, forcing your hand back to where it’d been. You complied, but only slightly, refusing to bend your fingers. “Logan… I-I’ll hurt you,” you whispered, your speech not yet impeded by his tongue. 

“I’m countin’ on it, sweetheart.” 

The only way he knew you heard him was the flash of realization in your eyes, then laughing in disbelief, which sounded more like a harsh exhale, yet still not complying. “C’mon, make it hurt,” his voice was a growl at this point, and he could feel the way your body reacted to his words. You weren’t lying; you did like his voice. “I’m a big boy, I can handle ya.”

Finally, fucking finally, you sunk your fingers into his hair, and you pulled hard, pulling him deeper into you. He could die happy now; at least until he made you come. He turned vicious, like a switch had been flipped, tongue now targeting your clit with precise circular motions, occasionally pressing into your entrance, which earned him a beautiful moan from you. 

He was hardly quiet, either, groaning with every pull and tug, and he knew you could feel it. The confines of his pants were becoming unbearable now, but he didn’t dare tear his hands away from your body to fix it. He doubted he’d have to wait long, anyway, with the way your thighs shook around his head, the way your walls fluttered around his tongue. The only thing you were crying was his name, a song that would be stuck in his head for the rest of time. 

“Logan… I’m-”

“You gonna come, sweetheart?”

You made some noise in agreement, and he felt you tug him close, impossibly close. Fuck, he’d be tasting you for days. And then he felt you begin to rock your hips, back and forth, and you were using his fucking face to get off. The noise he let out at that realization was animalistic, more growl than groan; he felt like he was about to combust. 

“Fuck, just like that… use my face, yeah…” He didn’t cease the movements of his tongue, but he began to help you rock your hips. “Come on my face, c’mon…”

It didn’t take long after that, a loud cry of Logan’s name cut in the air, and he was grateful that he’d kept his eyes trained on you, the sight of your head falling back in pleasure a sight he wouldn’t forget. The muscles in your thighs tensed and quivered, a gush of arousal escaping you, coating his lower face. 

It was when your legs fell boneless beside him that he finally let up, kissing the insides of your thighs one last time before standing back to full height. Your eyes widened when you saw the absolute disarray he knew he was in, hair tufted up more than normal, face slick with your release. But the grin he had on his face made you relax, with a weary smile of your own. But there was still a deep hunger in your eyes; you wanted more, and he’d gladly give it to you. 

He surged in to kiss you, but you stopped him with a hand against his chest, a playful yet semi-serious look in your eye. You didn’t respond verbally, instead gesturing to the towel that had been discarded earlier. 

He raised a brow. Really?

You laughed. “I’m not kissing you until you wipe your face,” you finally spoke, voice wreaked. “Your choice, darling.”

“As long as you call me that again,” he muttered, quickly grabbing the towel and wiping his lower face, a small price to pay, “Then I’ll do whatever the fuck you want me to do.”

He stood in front of you, you still smiling from his words, hands resting on the side of your neck. He could feel your pulse, still thumping like a fast drum. “Can I kiss you now, Your Highness?”

You paused like you were seriously considering saying anything other than “yes”, but the way you leaned into him said that you’d already made up your mind. Your eyes flicked down to his lips, and the small nod you gave him was all he needed before surging forward again, capturing your mouth in a hungry kiss. 

“Bedroom?” He knew it was a redundant question, but he needed to be certain. 

“You know the way.” Your arms wrapped around his body, legs following suit, you needing him as close as physically possible. It made it simple for him to lift you, only having to slide his hands under your thighs once again. 

The journey to your bedroom, however, was anything but easy. You were constantly distracting him with your lips, having grown more confident in your movements. You strayed past his mouth now, dotting his cheeks with kisses, an innocent way of showing affection made lewd by the rocking of your hips. And when your lips finally landed on his neck, kissing and biting, he swore his arms were about to give out. 

Eventually, after many stops pressing you against the wall and kissing the breath from your lungs, he made it to the bedroom, depositing you gently on the bed. You didn’t stay on your back for even a second, sitting upright as Logan began to tug off his shirt. 

His ego has never been so filled, the way you stared at him when his shirt was finally off. He knew he was a decent-looking guy, having garnered the attention of many people throughout his lifetime. But there was something about the way you regarded him, like he was the most beautiful person you’d ever seen, that made him want to puff out his chest. 

You only hesitated for a second before letting your hands drift across his chest; it pleased him to see you grow so confident around him in such a short amount of time. He heard you mutter something, too caught up in the sensation of the drag of your fingers to make it out. “What was that?”

“You’re beautiful.” 

Not hot. Not sexy. Not something he’d heard a thousand times. No, you said beautiful. He… he couldn’t think of a time when someone’s called him that and meant it. It made him falter for a second, suddenly feeling vulnerable. But he forced himself to relax; he could be vulnerable with you, at least for a little bit. 

So instead of deflecting your compliment with one of his own, at least not yet, he let the words wash over him, leaning down to brush his lips against yours. It was the gentlest kiss that night, yet so far, it had been his favorite. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

And just as quickly as it came, his vulnerable demeanor vanished, replaced by the confident aura he’d had all night. Tugging at the hem of your shirt, he murmured against your lips, “Lift your arms.”

When you did, he pulled your shirt from your body, tossing it somewhere on the floor, before letting out a noise that sounded wounded at the sight of you finally bare before him. He saw the instinctual twitch of your muscles as you almost covered yourself, but you kept your hands at your side.

“I think we both know who’s the beautiful one here,” he muttered, watching as you turned your head away, bashful. He would have none of that, now. Tugging your chin, he redirected your gaze to be on him again. “I should’ve said it earlier. Should’ve said it the moment I met ya. You’re fuckin’ gorgeous. Prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Logan…”

“Do you know how fuckin’ hard it's been, trying to think about anything but you? Fuck, I can’t get you out of my mind. Every. Fuckin’. Minute.” He hadn’t meant for that much to spill out, but he certainly wasn’t complaining when your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him into a bruising kiss. The feel of your chest against his made him groan, lips opening against yours, and you used that opportunity to sneak your tongue in. You were getting so bold; it was driving him crazy. 

Pretending like your sudden small display of dominance didn’t make his cock twitch, he eased you back down on the bed, your legs wrapped around his waist. The only barrier between you two was his jeans, and he could feel you began to rock your hips, grinding directly against his covered cock. But when you pulled your lips away to utter a surprised oh, your confidence faltering as you felt him. 

“I’ll get ya nice and ready for me, gorgeous,” he couldn’t help the slight prideful tone; he was still a man, after all. He let his hands wander down your body, feeling and caressing as he went, making you arch your back in his hands, making a noise that nearly sounded like a laugh. When he reached your hips, you let your legs drop, and although he missed the sensation, what he was about to do would more than make up for it. 

Sneaking a hand between your thighs, he collected your arousal on the tips of his fingers, his middle and ring, to be exact. He felt your hips jump, a bit sensitive still, but the look on your face told him that the last thing you wanted him to do was stop. He debated toying with you for a moment, to see you beg and plead with him to give you the pleasure he was withholding. But when your hips bucked again, he realized you were both equally as impatient.

He kept his eyes locked on your face as he eased his middle finger into you, no matter how badly he wanted to watch it disappear. A range of emotions flashed across your face: shock from the intrusion, to a mild discomfort as he stretched you, then to pleasure. Whenever he saw a flicker of any semblance of pain flash across your beautiful face, he slowed. 

He knew he didn’t have to move as slowly as he did, but something twisted in his stomach at the mere idea of hurting you, even if it was in the name of pleasure. Those images were still too fresh, too raw in his mind. No, he was taking this slow. 

When the palm of his hand ground against your clit, making you gasp. He could feel the way your walls clenched around him; knowing his cock would soon be in place of his fingers made him exhale shakily. “You take my fingers so fuckin’ well,” he praised, beginning to work his fingers in and out of you slowly, with short, shallow thrusts. “Bet you’ll take my cock even better.”

“Please.”

As much as he loved hearing you beg, it was for naught; he’d made up his mind the moment you had asked for more. “In a second,” he reassured, pressing his lips against yours in what was meant to be a short kiss, but then you grabbed the back of his head, keeping him close. He was far from caring, especially when he could feel your moans with every curl of his finger.

Adding a second finger, he pulled away once again to watch your face, looking for any flashes of pain. It was hard to stay focused, especially when your fingers latched around his bicep, nails digging in hard. It took every fiber of control in his body not to just sink his fingers all the way back in, groaning your name, nothing short of pure desire in his tone. 

“Logan, darling-”

He had to muffle you with a kiss, stopping you from doing anything else that would make him do something reckless. His palm once again ground against your clit, giving you a moment to adjust before he was easing them in and out of you. And when he began to pick up the pace, moving his face down to lavish your chest with some much-needed attention, he could feel you slowly begin to fall apart.

“Just like that, yeah, you’re doin’ so well,” he crooned, the grip on his bicep turning deadly. “Fuck, you gonna come again, sweetheart?”

He felt you nod. As if he needed that confirmation. Pulling his head away from your chest, he saw your eyes, completely blacked out, then a flash of white as you bit your lip to stifle your noises. 

If he currently wasn’t using his other arm to keep himself propped up, he would’ve tugged your lip free, to let your noises tumble free. “C’mon, lemme hear ya. Let everyone know who’s making you feel this fuckin’ good.”

Like your body was no longer under your control, you complied, your moans and whines once again filling the air. He heard his name a few times, making him grin; who knew his name could sound so lovely?

It only took a few more curling motions of his fingers before your body seized, your voice dying, the only thing audible was a whine of air. He didn’t cease his movements, riding you through the high of your orgasm. When the pleasure-filled look on your face began to morph, that’s when he eased his fingers out, glistening in the dim light. Your eyes had just landed on his face when he stuck them in his mouth, the corners of his lips pulled into a smirk. 

He heard you mutter something about him trying to kill you, making him laugh as he released his fingers with a pop, the taste of you still lingering. “Gonna make me wipe my mouth again?” He teased, earning him a half-hearted eye-roll from you.

You finally seemed to realize the grip you had on his arm, your apology trailing off when you watched the injury immediately heal, no sign of you lingering. “Like I said, I can handle ya.” Fascination still lingered in your eyes, but not in the exploitative way he’d seen throughout his life, or the fear. When you pulled him into a kiss, he felt like he was something to be treasured, to be loved. He didn’t realize how desperately he craved to feel that way.

But he didn’t let himself linger on that thought long, especially when he felt you once again lock your legs around his waist, rocking your hips. “You are insatiable,” he grumbled, loving just how desperately you wanted him. 

“I need you, Logan,” he felt you whisper in the kiss, your hands reaching for his belt buckle. Feeling your fingers brush over his cock, intentional or not, made him bite back a groan. 

“Need you to let go of me first,” he chuckled, watching you frown momentarily before loosening your legs. 

Not wanting to be apart from you long, he was quick to undo his belt, the zipping of his pants drowning out your hitched breathing. He couldn’t help the relieved noise he made when his cock was finally freed, the rest of his clothing now on the floor after working them down his legs. He could feel your eyes on him, all of him, staring at him like you had when he’d taken his shirt off. 

It was then he realized a small, yet quite crucial part of this whole endeavor that he’d forgotten, not wanting to be presumptuous when he left his apartment earlier. “Sweetheart, you don’t happen to have-”

Like you’d read his fucking mind, you reached over to your nightstand, reaching for a box of condoms. A new, unopened box, he noted to himself, yet a smile crept across his face when you handed him a condom between your trembling fingers. “What?” You laughed.

“Just wonderin’ how long you’ve had that box for. Have you had it for a few months… or did you just buy it?” 

It was becoming clear to him that his second favorite thing to do to you was tease you. The way your eyes widened, then looked away; he was certain if he pressed his hand to your cheeks, they would be burning. “Oh, go away,” you groaned, moving to shove him with your foot, but he caught it, pressing a kiss to your calf before dropping it. 

“‘Fraid it’s a bit too late for that, now,” he muttered as he rolled on the condom. It would be impossible for him to unlearn the touch of your hand, the warmth of your body, your voice, and it would be impossible for him to unlearn the deep-rooted affections that ran so deeply for you. 

“Thankfully.”

He tried not to dwell on the fact that he could hear that same affection in your voice; he would need at least a good day to fully process it, unable to believe it right now. Instead, he let hands trail up your legs, grabbing your thighs and squeezing lightly, considering his option of what to do next. He could have you on your back, legs wrapped around his body like you’d done earlier. Or he could have you on your hands and knees, or on top of him, or-

“How do you want this, sweetheart?”

“I…” you swallowed, nervous. “I wanna be able to see you.”

You were going to be the death of him, if you made his heart skip one more time. He couldn’t bring himself to speak, merely returning to the position he was in moments earlier, and your legs instinctually wrapped around his waist as if they belonged there. And maybe they did, with how right it felt. 

Balancing his weight on one head, he used his free one to run his fingers along your cheek, then leaned in to kiss you. Your hands couldn’t decide where they wanted to rest, until finally tangling one in his hair, and the other holding his shoulder. He could feel your fingers curl when his tip nudged against your entrance, not pressing in yet. 

“Ready?” He asked, hoping he didn’t sound as strained as he felt, holding himself back. 

“Yes,” you responded almost immediately, sounding just as desperate as him. Thank God. 

Even though he’d done well to get you ready for him, there was still a flicker or discomfort across your face when he began to ease himself into you. But it quickly faded, your jaw going slack, and Logan was finally able to focus on just how good you felt. Warm and tight, he let out a choked noise as he continued to press himself into you, inch by inch, until finally, his hips were flush with yours. A bead of sweat rolled down his temple and down his next at the exertion that came from holding himself back, but all of that nearly went out the window when he felt your tongue lap at his neck before you sank your teeth into the tendon there. 

It was reflexive, the way his hips bucked; he was the one being played like an instrument, now. “Fuck… you’re a lil’ tease now, ain’t you?” He tried to sound stern but found it hard to do so, coming out as more of a chuckle than anything. 

Your responding smile was anything but innocent, your hips moving in a wordless command. Start moving.

He was more than eager to comply, smashing his lips against yours as he set a moderate pace, prioritizing powerful thrusts over the rapid snapping of his hips. If things worked out the way he liked, he could experiment with that set your body ablaze, to find the perfect way to make your eyes roll back, make you scream his name, make you come undone. 

He felt you tear away from the kiss, head rolling back against the pillows as he thrusted into you, exposing your neck, which was just begging to be kissed. He could feel you squirm as his facial hair tickled the sensitive skin, lips and tongue lavishing your neck with attention. “You feel so fuckin’ good,” he groaned. “I knew you’d take me so well.”

His name hit his ears, but nothing more, as if it was the only thing you could think to say. Smiling into your skin, he pressed one last kiss to the column of your throat before he lifted his head, wanting to watch you. And what a sight that was, your face twisted in pleasure, something twinkling in your eye before he felt your nails tear down his back.

His hips stuttered, and if he wasn’t partially expecting to feel you dig into his skin, he would’ve finished right then and there, his lips pulling into a semi-snarl. You held too much power over him, but he was far from complaining. “Sweetheart,” he panted, a warning, “this’ll be over far too soon if you keep pulling shit like that.”

“I… I wanna feel you…” 

The pure need in your voice made him groan; he could feel the grip he had on his release faltering. But he needed you to fall apart first, to feel you come apart on his cock. Sneaking a hand between your bodies, he felt your legs begin to shake with the added pleasure on your clit, his fingers quick and incessant. 

“C’mon, you can give me one more, can’t ya?”

He felt you nod without question, before yanking his lips against yours. He was done talking, anyway, too focused on making you come. With every thrust of his hips, every drag of his cock, every twist of his fingers, he could feel the way you tightened your grip on him, voice rising in octave, until he once again felt your body stiffen, a mix of his name and a whine tearing from you.

It only took a few more moments before he was tumbling over that edge as well, his hips stilling as he came, muffling his noises in the crook of your neck; they were just for you to hear. After being pent up for so fucking long, the relief was indescribable, white-hot pleasure momentarily stunning him. 

He was quick to recover, easing from you slowly, apologizing when you winced slightly, trying his damnest to ignore the guilt that he felt at you being in pain. He apparently wasn’t good at covering his worry, because you shot him a look, your eyes hooded with exhaustion, yet your lips still held a smile. “It’s a good pain,” you whispered, physically unable to speak any louder. Logan, once again, was partially convinced you could read his mind.

If you read his mind now, though, it would only be thoughts of you, so he didn’t care that much. 

When he began to stand, you furrowed your brow in confusion, a small flicker of worry flashing in your eye. “I’ll be right back,” he reassured, and you visibly relaxed. He shot you a smile before heading into the bathroom. 

After discarding the condom and cleaning himself up, he glanced at himself in the mirror. As expected, there wasn’t a single mark on his body, but he was amused to find that his hair was stuck up in various spots, not just the two tufts in the back. 

He didn’t bother to get dressed before heading to the kitchen, grabbing you a glass of water before heading back. He saw the light was on in the bathroom, and so he let himself get comfortable on the bed, at least putting on his boxers now, your water now on the nightstand.

He didn’t have to wait long, glancing over and watching a very dishevled looking you sit back down on the bed, flashing his a grateful glance before downing half the water.

“How pissed do you think the neighbors are gonna be?” He heard you ask, making him snort. 

“If they’re smart, they’ll mind their own damn business.”

That made you chuckle, taking one last sip before scooting back into the bed, beneath the covers, and into Logan’s open arms. God, he was so fucking happy, so content, everything that just happened finally sinking in. And maybe he was a little terrified, but if this wasn’t worth it, he didn’t know what was. 

You pulled him from his thoughts when you began to examine his hands, running your fingers across the digits, just like you’d done in the kitchen. You spoke before he could inquire, your voice teasing. “So you are good with your hands.”

He was laughing when he pulled you into a kiss, and he could feel you smiling in turn. That warm feeling still lingered throughout his body, something he had been so convinced was just lust, just desire. But as you laid your head on his chest, he realized it was that, and so much more. 

He wouldn’t put a name on it. Not yet.

But it was no issue. 

He had all the time in the world now. 

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

On the other side of the wall, a very pissed-off Al was sliding Wade a twenty dollar bill, who sat with a shit-eating smirk on his face.

“I told you they’d break tonight!”

Author’s Note: does it surprise anyone that i got carried away with this lmao.

[fanaticsnail]

Donquixote Masterlist

Navigation Masterlist Here

Art link

Donquixote Rosinante:

Despiértame mi Corazon (Dance Series) (Gift One-Shot)

You have been on the run from Donquixote Doflamingo, sheltering and caring for a young, sick child. Your emotions catch up with you as you process the change your life has led you to. You’ve left it all: family, career, friends - all to support Rosinante in his quest to cure the boy. Upon seeing you in this state, your Corazon will do anything to see you smile again. 

Donquixote Rosinante's Journey with Modern Slang (crack dialogue)

Mild background context: Law's skills as a doctor saved a person with the devil-fruit with the ability grant a single wish. Law used that wish to bring back Donquixote "Corazon" Rosinante as he was: lying in the snow and unresponsive. He wanted the chance to use what he's learnt to save him, and save him he does. Both now in their 20s, Rosi is adjusting and attempting to learn the current slang to relate to his grown son.

Rosinante's Trip Down Under (one-shot)

Modern AU, Rosinante visiting your hometown in Queensland Australia. He is overwhelmed by the cultural differences, but loves to learn the slang.

I Like Matching (NSFW One-Shot)

Returning home from an away mission for your boss, you are immediately spirited away to the nearest unoccupied space and met with the lips, hands and grasp of Corazon. He missed you, and it was showcased in his neediness in every kiss and motion planted against you.

A bit of both (NSFW One-Shot)

You and Rosinante take your trust to a new level, engaging in two levels of weaving you had yet to use in sequence with one another. Kink-fic: bondage, gagging, praise (reader receiving. Gender neutral terms)

Close your eyes and breathe (One-Shot)

Struggling to find rest, you decide to take yourself to the kitchen in the marine base. You stumble upon your commander slouched over his desk and asleep on a pile of papers. Taking him to his quarters, he wants to help you find rest in slumber.

"Mine" (NSFW One-Shot)

Upon viewing you and your boss, Doflamingo, get a little too close to one another, Corazon feels the urge to finally state a claim over you. He loves you, and now wants you to understand one thing and one thing only: you belong to him. You are his, completely.

A day is all I need (One-Shot)

Serving as Trafalgar Law's chronicler aboard the Polar Tang, he convinces you to finally cast aside your former love for a man long since passed. In a bid to move on, you find an intriguing figure in the market who bore a striking resemblance to the man who held your heart.

Donquixote Doflamingo:

Pretty Red Ribbon (One-Shot)

After your birthday was ruined last year at the hands of a certain pink-feather-donning, glasses-wearing gentleman who you love to hate, your fellow warlord, Sir Crocodile, gives you a little gift you did not expect to darken your doorstep.

Play Stupid Games Win Stupid Prizes (NSFW 1/2)

Doffy is attempting to gain the upper hand against you. He's longed for you, yearned for you - in his own unique way. Considering you never give in to his flirtatious advances, he takes matters into his own hands and attempts to spike your drink. The problem? Your quick wit and nimble fingers switch whisky glasses with him, causing unforeseen problems that he has no cure for…

Play Stupid Games, Win Stupid Prizes (NSFW 2/2)

Doflamingo has been sending you gifts of flowers and trinkets over your time apart, but he refuses to acknowledge you in public. Attending a gala held at marine headquarters. He attends with two concubines on his arms, and you arrive with your friend on the arm of a marine. Doflamingo attempts to make you jealous, but you decide to play his little game by using his own methods against him. You invite Sir Crocodile to play this little game with you.

She Was Mine (One-Shot)

A new transfer is tasked with guarding Doflamingo as he visits the world government headquarters. Doflamingo becomes intoxicated and reminisces about the love of his life to this new transfer, confessing he still loves her and wants to be with her.

Doflamingo's Childhood Friend (Imagine)

Mini-fic of what it would be like to be promised to Doflamingo in his youth, only for that bond to sever when Homing defects.

Seat Number Four (One-Shot NSFW)

You are stuck on an eight hour flight between two gentlemen you have never met before. Unaware of their prior history and dislike for one another, you attempt to relax and watch a new series your friend recommended. The series was a little more raunchy than you had anticipated, and you become a little uncomfortable in your seat between the two attractive men. Doflamingo reassures you your need is nothing to be ashamed of, and he would be more than willing to help you out if you allowed him to teach the younger blonde how to best please you. Doffy x f!reader x Sanji

Teach Me (NSFW One-Shot)

As a Dressrosian concubine, you were accustomed to receiving all kinds of clients. The one you looked forward to the least was Doflamingo. Not because of who he was or what he's done. Simply for one reason. He was bad at sex, and you were bored.

Doflamingo Undergarments (NSFW mini-fic)

Doflamingo walks in on you, his administrative assistant, wearing nothing but his face plastered on your ass.

Happy Birthday Doflamingo (One-Shot)

Doflamingo x reader x Rosinante

Donquixote Doflamingo was in his own little world within the warlord meeting at the world government headquarters. Suddenly, an uncommon source reminded him what day it was, and he was left perplexed and pleasantly surprised.

Better than to break tradition (NSFW One-Shot)

Rival ranches, the Donquixote family and your own, find neutral ground after a successful rodeo tournament. Coming to your aid, at the crowning of a cap on your head, you and Doflamingo know far better than to break tradition. (Cowboy au).

Forge in Gold (Sapsorrow Au)

Two brothers and a young slave girl are bound now by the metalic band atop her unity finger. A spectral ghost, the promises of love, and lies and deceit have the three of them tangle in a bed of lies. There is no happiness to be found at the end of this tale, only sorrow and heartbreak.

Regrets (drabble)

Donquixote Doflamingo is on the sidelines for once, never learning the skill to woo you to the beat of a drum or swell of a melody. Rosinante had, and Doflamingo is regretting that decision.

Between Two Dragons (NSFW Alphabet and mini-fic)

As the bride of Donquixote Doflamingo, it was your role to satisfy your king. He would not allow a single hand to be laid on you other than that of the pure blood of his Donquixote celestial heritage. When Rosinante returned home to the Donquixote Pirates, and expressed interest in you romantically, Doflamingo was the first to suggest a non-conventional unification between the three of you.

Caesar Clown

It's not what it looks like! (NSFW One-Shot)

The ship has taken on a few more guests, the overcrowded Straw-Hat vessel now struggling to accommodate the number. Offering your room to the prisoner, Caesar Clown, you returned to find a sight you were ill-prepared to meet. Caesar had found your secret, and had them over his nose and mouth while chasing his high into his gloved fist.

Misc Drabbles:

You're Angry at the Tall Men: Drabble (One-Shot)

He knows what he did to earn your wrath; your fury ignited in your eyes and the flames physically tangible and searing the room with your scorn. Your brow was furrowed, your lips curling into a snarl to bare your pearled teeth at him.Buggy, Shanks, Mihawk, Sir Crocodile, Corazon, Doflamingo.

Dreaming of You (Drabble) NSFW

They couldn't help it. You looked so heavenly in their dreams. The way they had you wrapped around their body as a marionette in their minds, dancing for them as they awoke to sticky blankets when they jolted upright. Their thoughts got the better of them, and they are wracked with guilt. Doflamingo, Caesar, Rosinante "Corazon".

[silverflqmes]

agszc with self care/slice of life comfort?

i've been feeling really down with myself for a bit now & i could use that extra push of feeling a bit better :,) perhaps some ideas could include like: maybe distracting the reader from a failed exam by going shopping together, grocery shopping and cooking a meal together at home, perhaps that one rp with noya where he was kissing insecurities away (hi yes its sky), maybe a pep talk to help with motivation, hmm what else ALSO U DONT HAVE TO DO THESE EXACT THINGS IM JUST GIVING IDEAS... i just want the boys there for me soBS (esp zack and cloud since yk favs.)

໒⦂ 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓 𝐇𝐂𝐒.

notes. hey queen i did headcanons for this because it seemed better suited, i hope the post helps you feel better at least, you can do it<3

genre. comfort + crack

for @melukonova <3

ft. sephiroth, cloud strife, zack fair, genesis rhapsodos, angeal hewley

gender neutral! reader.

➫ 𝓢𝗘𝗣𝗛𝗜𝗥𝗢𝗧𝗛 ୨୧ ˎˊ˗

⌗ for whatever reason that your day and mood has been sullied, sephiroth is already on it and is doing everything in his power to try and make you feel better.

⌗ he’s not the best with handling emotions, as he has difficulty with understanding his own, but wants to help — it hurts him to see you ache like this and to know he couldn’t prevent your suffering🙁

⌗ offers to masamune whoever brought your pain, even if it’s an inanimate object incapable of fighting back.. it’s sweet of him ( and it becomes difficult to suppress your smile )

⌗ just kidding ( not really. ), he comes to the conclusion that a self care day is likely the best approach to make you feel better — genesis had brought the idea up once before

⌗ sephiroth wasn’t exactly one for worrying for his well being, he didn’t have much time to sit down and do so anyway.. but he figured he might try that out with you

⌗ and so, after getting off work, he made a point to grab some supplies from the store, which included these super cute kitty headbands to push your hair back!!

⌗ self care portion of the day ensues and ends with takeout and some cuddling on the couch to some silly sitcoms. laughter cures the blues right? so that’s just what he’s going for to see you smile again<3

➫ 𝓒𝗟𝗢𝗨𝗗 𝓢𝗧𝗥𝗜𝗙𝗘 ୨୧ ˎˊ˗

⌗ having a bad day? cloud’s been there and is ready to lend an ear to listen. he isn’t the most optimistic person and doesn’t have the best way with words, but he is willing to help!

⌗ he’s a bit awkward with the advice ( he might interest you in a sarcastic comment- kidding, maybe.. ) and words of consolation, but he’s doing his best and is determined to get his words across to you.

⌗ he offers to take you on a delivery with him, a drive can help sometimes with getting out of the house and just getting fresh air — or well.. as fresh as the air can be in midgar / edge..

⌗ part of him thought you would be reluctant and would argue on why and how you should continue to rot in your bed — but you were oddly willing ( maybe because you always have to ask to join.. )

⌗ either way, made his job a hundred times easier and he was glad to see you cooperating with him because he thought he would have needed to drag you by the ankles..

⌗ the drive goes nicely, you can feel yourself begin to calm down as you hold onto him and watch the scenery pass you by; it’s such a simple thing but it’s quelling your nerves and intrusive thoughts, thankfully

⌗ once the package is delivered, cloud spares a little of his time before your scheduled drive back home and takes you out for lunch along with a little stroll around the town🫶

➫ 𝓩𝗔𝗖𝗞 𝓕𝗔𝗜𝗥 ୨୧ ˎˊ˗

⌗ zack is the definition and embodiment of an emotional support animal. whatever, or even whoever, decided to ruin the flow of your day, he’s there to provide comfort!

⌗ has a pretty good grasp on emotions, even if there are some things he might not fully get, but he wants to help in any way he can! seeing you sad is the worst thing ever, how dare, whatever hurt you, steal away that smile of yours??

⌗ his best course of action is to take you out and doodle up a list of activities for you to do to uplift your mood. distraction is temporary, of course, but it works its course and he was going to make it succeed!

⌗ said list includes visiting the arcade, a walk through the mall, buying you flowers, feeding and petting any strays with your leftovers from where you guys ate and maybe even karaoke while the night is still young..

⌗ should the karaoke go as planned, it would be a mission to get zack out of there LMAO he wants to do cheesy romantic duets with you and boyband songs..

⌗ despite your whines and protests, they do not fail to make you grin and wash away whatever ickiness you had felt earlier.

⌗ it’s a full day that ends up getting you tired by the final activity, but it was all part of the plan!!! distraction and getting a good nights sleep! perfect, right?

➫ 𝓖𝗘𝗡𝗘𝗦𝗜𝗦 𝓡𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗦𝗢𝗗𝗢𝗦 ୨୧ ˎˊ˗

⌗ how dare someone or something sour your mood and evening! genesis is completely distraught and is prepared to do whatever means necessary to exact his revenge..

⌗ fires will be set ( not really but it sounds like a really good idea at the moment ESPECIALLY BECAUSE TUMBLR DIDNT SAVE MY SHIT AND I HAVE TO REWRITE THIS — im sorry.. um moving on.. )

⌗ in the end, fires were not set.. he opts for taking you out to dinner and bringing you to loveless avenue because it just works, and he wants to spoil you with gifts<3

⌗ dinner was lovely and like a fairytale — i mean being with genesis in general was like a fairytale, but he somehow always seemed to exceed your expectations..

⌗ you’re feeling slightly better as you exit the vicinity, taking an idle walk down sector eight since he insisted on a stroll — not because he wanted to check the loveless merch, definitely not. of course not.

⌗ he ends up buying you something your gaze lingered on a little longer than you had planned for, which you protested on at first.. but then you gave in, because it was genesis — aaand he also bought it regardless of what you said..

⌗ he walks with you hand in hand on your way home and proposes his idea of setting fires if you were still upset. you of course, say no.. i mean, psh a fire??? yeah, right..

➫ 𝓐𝗡𝗚𝗘𝗔𝗟 𝓗𝗘𝗪𝗟𝗘𝗬 ୨୧ ˎˊ˗

⌗ bad mood? rough day in general? angeal is prepared to do whatever is necessary to help you through your mood — anything to return your happiness to you rather than this funk you’re in.

⌗ his best course of action was to take you to the market to buy the necessary ingredients to prepare your favorite meal! they say food cures any blues, perhaps that applies here as well?

⌗ unwilling as you were to leave the comfort of your bedroom, he managed to get you out with the promise of pushing you in the cart..

⌗ yes you wanted to be pushed in the shopping cart, who wouldn’t want to be pushed in a shopping cart after a shit day?

⌗ the small joyride seems to lift your mood a little and he even bought you some of your favorite snacks to have after the meal he’s preparing<3 what a guy🥰

⌗ arriving home, he immediately gets to work on dinner, and after a few back hugs from you along with a brief sway while he waited on the food to finish, it was finally time to set the table!

⌗ nothing too fancy but you appreciated it nonetheless, as you could taste the love and care in each bite you took. truly angeal was the gift of the goddess!!!

notes. okay uh this is not the best quality because stupid tumblr did not save ( GET AN AUTOSAVE FEATURE PLS I CANT DO THIS ANYMORE ) — but i hope you liked it and that you feel better mami<3

↳ return to main masterlist . request rules . send an ask

[thegoldencontracts]

Kiss-Kiss K.O.~!

Summary: Your boyfriend keeps telling you he'll faint if you keep being so affectionate with him. Little do you know, he's right.

Pairing: Azul/Reader

Notes: Reader is completely gender neutral. Hehehe Azul bbg I would treat you so right just sign this marriage contract teehee-

A normal day at the lounge. You, In the VIP room, sitting next to Azul while you both did work together. Things were peaceful, and Azul was there, which made everything better.

While you worked, your attention drifted to Azul. You wanted him to talk to you. Or kiss you. Or maybe you wanted to kiss him. Something like that.

"Hey, Azul!" You said.

"Yes?" He said, a smug grin on his face. "Would you like something? Perhaps you're lonely? If so, I'd be more than happy to shower you with my affections as you please. You need only ask."

That wasn't even what you wanted to do, but now you were flustered, damnit! Damn your boyfriend and his silver tongue! And damn you for liking this so much!

"Really, now," he said, holding your hand up in a may that did more damage to your heart than any of those triple-deep-fried foods they sold at state fairs. "You look positively adorable like this! How could I possibly resist?"

"I- uh, just-" he snickered as you gave up, and you realized you were pouting. Damnit.

You weren't sure what exactly he couldn't resist until he kissed your hand. Your face was burning. This shouldn't've been such a big deal. It was fine. You were fine.

You were not fine. You glared at Azul. He did this to you . This was his fault. He shouldn't have been so insanely charming. Why was he so hot?

"My, my," he said. "It seems as if you're having trouble concentrating. Is something ailing you?"

Yep, something was ailing you. And you knew the cure.

You leaned in real to press a quick kiss to his mole. Kissing Azul made everything better.

"This was about you, you know," he said. "I think I ought to be the one kissing you, rather than the other way around."

He seemed perfectly smug while he talked, and someone might think he didn't like being kissed. But the red on his cheeks said otherwise.

"No, No," you said. "Let's keep going."

You pressed a kiss to his cheek, grinning at the shudder he couldn't keep in. And then you pressed another, slightly lower than the first. And another. And another, until-

"Y-You!" Azul screeched, face bright red. "This is highly unprofessional!"

Good thing you didn't have a profession, then. That meant you'd get to do this more.

"And?" You said, pressing another kiss, this time to his nose, laughing as he failed around in his chair. "I like doing this. You look adorable when you get all flustered."

He'd said that last sentence to you so many times before. It felt so good throwing it back at him.

"I am not adorable." He said. "I am a businessman, I am intimidating, not-"

You cut him off by kissing him right next to the lips. He looked away from you, scowling.

"What happened to that grin when you were kissing me a few minutes ago?" You asked. "Is it that you can't take what you dish out?"

Although you didn't think it was possible, his face somehow got redder. He looked away, too embarrassed to meet your eyes. He looked so pretty when he was flustered. Actually, he was pretty in general.

Really, you were lucky to have him. He was so pretty, so perfect.

"T-That isn't true in the slightest," Azul mumbled.

Oops. Did you just say that out loud? Whatever. Azul deserved to hear nice things about himself anyway.

But he was denying it. That wouldn't do at all.

Without warning, you kissed him, this time, trailing down his face with more kisses until he finally pushed you away with a yelp.

"Stop," he pleaded, though something told you he didn't want you to stop.

"Do you really want me to stop?" You asked, grinning as he shook his head. "That's what I thought."

"Seven, if you tease me any more, I'll faint," Azul groaned, and you couldn't help but chuckle.

"Right," you said, leaning in to kiss him again.

And then he fainted.

He just fainted. Because you kissed him too much. Were you going to laugh, or panic because the twins might get here and grill you on what happened any moment?

The door slamming open answered that question for you.

In walked Jade, polite face turning into one that screamed murder as he looked at Azul's limp body.

"My, my," he said, "care to explain what happened here?"

You got where he was coming from. Azul, who'd been fine that morning, fainting out of nowhere? And you were the only person in the room with him? You would blame you too if you were him.

Right after him, walked Floyd, who gave you an annoyed look after seeing Azul's body.

"Hey, Grouper Fish," Floyd changed your old nickname to that ever since you'd started dating Azul. Something, something, symbiotic relationship, you vaguely recalled Jade explaining. "What happened here?"

"Well-" you realized how dumb your explanation sounded. There was no way the twins would believe it. "I, uh, can't say."

Jade raised an eyebrow.

"You are aware that your words give me reason to believe Azul s current state is your doing, no?"

"Yeah," you said, gulping.

"Can I squeeze Grouper Fish now, Jade?" Floyd said.

"Not yet," Jade said before gesturing to the security camera. "It would be best to review the security camera footage before jumping to conclusions."

He turned to you.

"Meanwhile," he said, "Would you mind bringing Azul to his room?"

You nodded, breathing a sigh of relief. The twins would realize what actually happened. You were safe.

A bit of struggling later, you managed to get Azul to his room. Now, all you had to do, was wait.

A while later, Azul woke up.

"What- happened?" He groaned, before flushing red as the memories came back to him. "Ah."

"Sorry, Azul," you said. "I probably should've toned it down a little."

"No, no," he said. "You have nothing to apologize for. I'm simply- not used to such gestures of affection."

"I think that's a bit of an understatement," you said. "Anyways, Jade and Floyd came and saw you fainted. I was scared, dude. Thought they were gonna turn me into fish food."

"I apologize for that," he said. "Please accept a free meal at the lounge ad compensation."

You nodded in acceptance, though you were probably going to try and pay for it on secret anyways.

"Wait." Azul said, eyes wide.

"Yeah?"

"The twins have access to the security camera footage. They likely saw everything that happened."

"And?" You asked, before it hit you. "Oh. Sorry."

"Ugh," he groaned. "I'm never going to hear the end of this!"

[amyysfics]

skz - things he would do for you

pairing: ot8 x gender neutral!reader warnings: fluff, eating in minho's, hurt/comfort for chan's summary: things they would do for you that show their love word count: 1.054

©amyysfics (2024) All Rights Reserved - Reposting/Modification of any kind is not tolerated.

Bang Chan

Whenever Chan would find you crying, he would immediately hug you. He would ask you what happened in the softest voice. He would hand you one of his hoodies, knowing the smell alone would bring you comfort. The man wouldn't leave your side until you're ready to talk. It doesn't even matter if you're fighting. He would put everything aside and focus on making you feel better. And on the days when you would just need to cry it out, he would be there for you, too. If you'd worry about getting his shirt wet from your tears, he would tell you not to worry. "The shirt will dry eventually. As long as your tears do the same." He'd know exactly what to do. You need cuddles? The bed would be turned into the most comfortable place you've ever seen. You want a distraction? He would talk to you about his day in the studio. You need some cheering up? You best know this man will jump up and do a silly dance.

Chan would do whatever he needed to turn that frown upside down.

Lee Minho

Lee Know would always make sure you would have a warm meal. Even when he's on tour or has training until late at night, he would have either left something in the fridge for you to pop into the microwave, or he would order something the moment he knows you're home. He would make you the best soups on days when you're sick with a flu. Whenever you struggle to eat for any reason, Minho would sit by your side, encouraging every single bite. Hell, he'd even drive two hours if that's where he'd get the one thing you'd be able to get down.

Minho would do whatever necessary, to make sure you eat.

Seo Changbin

If you were ever bored, Changbin would make it his personal mission to cure any and all boredom. He would turn into a spontaneous ball of giggles. You're bored of the movie? He would jump up and drag you out on a walk. Too bored to be at home? Binnie would find out where the next amusement-park is set-up. This man would be up for anything, as long as it meant you wouldn't have to be bored anymore. Be careful what you say, though. He would absolutely drag you out of your comfy position in bed at 3 am, if you ask for entertainment,

Changbin would jump up in seconds to keep boredom far away from you.

Hwang Hyunjin

Hyunjin would almost beg you to let him draw you. "You don't even have to do anything! You can just sit there and be as pretty as always!", he would say. In any situation, too. You could have the worst bed-head, wear dirty clothes, even have some dried up drool in the corners of your mouth. This man is convinced you're the most beautiful person in any room. He's sketched you whole cooking, drawn you while cuddling in bed and even did a painting of you cleaning. (He made up for not helping by doing the next cleaning session alone.)

Hyunjin would take every opportunity to have your beauty immortalized.

Han Jisung

Every couple of weeks Han would come back from the studio, giggling, jumping around, shouting that he had something he wanted to show you. Of course, he had written countless songs about you. Some of them published, some he'd shown you and some he will forever keep to himself. But eventually him writing songs about you, turned into him writing songs for you. Whenever you had a song you really liked, muttering how you wished there were more songs like it, it would lead to this ace to spend all his alone-time creating a similar piece of music for you. You had a whole playlist of songs he wrote for you. One time he came back with a whole CD, all of which included new music he made just for you. He even asks different idols to sing parts of it, sometimes.

Han would spend months making songs just for you.

Lee Felix

Felix wanting the reader to braid his hair

You braided Felix' hair one time, when you were in bed together, talking about everything and nothing. Ever since then he would constantly beg for you to do it again. While enjoying skinship, he never liked having people touch his hair. But when you do it? The boy melts. He starts to blush and smile and hide his face wherever he can. Yet he still continuously asks for you to style his hair. It's a sign of trust he doesn't give out easily. He loves the feeling of your hands going through his hair, getting out knots and making it look pretty. Even when you mess with him and ruffle through his (usually) blonde mane, he still doesn't mind.

Felix would cancel any plans, just so you could braid his hair.

Kim Seungmin

Seungmin was never a big fighter. He would solve any arguments rationally and kindly. He's not an argumentative person. Yet whenever you were out together and he sensed danger, the need to protect you would get stronger. He would whisper, "Stay behind me, no matter what!" The singer would puff out his chest and confront any danger. He would get mean and he would fight, if he had to. It's not that he would enjoy it. But if it's to shield you, he'd be willing to do it. Seungmin doesn't enjoy violence whatsoever, but if he has to he will use it.

Seungmin would do whatever it takes to keep you safe.

Yang Jeongin

The maknae had no idea how much he enjoyed picking your outfit and accessories, until you were in a rush once and asked for his help with it. He knows his way around fashion and you're aware of that. So asking him to pick out your clothes was unexpected but probably one of the best decisions you ever made. Whenever you go on a date now, he asks if he can help style you. He always makes sure to suggest things he knows will make you shine. And if you ever don't feel like being all dressed up, he will immediately dig through his own closet - giving you the comfiest hoodie he owns.

Jeongin would never turn down an opportunity to help you with an outfit.

Taglist: @bokkiesplace @notastraykid @hee0soo @moon0fthenight @bbyquokka @strawberry31 @weird-bookworm

[azullumi]

“heart to heart” ; kaveh, wanderer, xiao

summary — he could only watch as you die ; alternatively, he’s there to comfort and hold you as you take your last breath.

characters — kaveh, wanderer, and xiao (w/ gender-neutral reader)

tags — angst but not that heavy but not that light also, grammatical errors bcs i don’t like to proofread, established relationship ; scenario/one-shot

words — 1431

note — u all had too much fluff these past few days, anyways, this is part 2 out of 2!! read the previous one here (^^)/

;; KAVEH

not again.

you were his but right now, death seems to hold on to your hand as if you were never his own, the half of him, his heart and his soul. they cannot take you from him, not again, not you—why does he always someone dear to him? why does it have to be you?

“how about a house on top of the hills or the mountains?” you say over the warm beverage that you held in between your hands and a short sound of laughter escapes him, “wouldn’t that be dangerous? a landslide could occur while we’re inside our home.”

“at least we’re going to die together, right?” he pauses, turning around to meet your tender gaze and he answered with a small smile on his lips. “that is romantic but i would rather grow old with you and die together by natural causes.”

“i can’t fight anymore. i’m… tired.” you muttered, loud enough for him to hear, as you could only stare at the same boring ceiling—he insisted that it was beautiful by the time this very home was built but if you were to always see it, wouldn’t you be tired of its beauty?—and lay on the soft bed. it’s almost like you were a corpse and oftentimes, the thought of death being the kindest thing for the both of you two occurs in your head.

“don’t say that, please…”

you couldn’t live until you were old and frail with him but even so, you were happy. you were happy that you got to meet him, you were happy that someone as lovely as him was willing to kiss your scars gently as if all that you were was a fragile being. in the short amount of time you have spent together with him, he made you the happiest, the most loved, the most cherished, he made you feel alive.

“i don’t care where we are as long as i’m there with you.” he murmurs against your lips, a pretty shade of pink and smiling. you tangle your fingers in the strands of his blonde hair, feeling his breath fan your skin and it was ticklish yet comforting at the same. “what if you’re not there?”

he presses yet another kiss, a short one but the sweetness lingered on your own when he parted. “i will be there, always, holding your hand.”

“i’m getting sleepy, kaveh…”

he chokes on his own sob, hand coming up to hold your own and intertwine it with his. he squeezed it rather softly and you tried to do the same but there was nothing left in you, just a slow heart and a weak body that is holding on to the faint light that you call life. “p-please, hold on a little much longer, okay? i’ll find a cure, i’ll find the medicine for you so please—stay awake.”

“i can’t—i’m sorry I won't be there until the end.”

“but i—i love you so much, i love you. please always remember that, kaveh.” he wasn’t even given the chance to answer when you had already closed your eyes and anything he would say at that point will not reach you.

as your hand loosens and slips off his hold, so does he falls to the floor. nothing could have prepared him for your last goodbye.

;; WANDERER

“i have a confession to make.”

you spoke weakly, voice nearing to a whisper, a testament to your state, and in contrast to your loosening grip on his hand, he holds you rather tightly as if you’re going to be taken away from him—a denial, eyes choosing to be blind to avoid facing the dreadful truth. “shut up, stop acting like you’re going to die!”

he continued, holding back a sob, “you are not going to die.” you never failed to notice the smallest falter in his expression—his crumpled expression relaxing into a soft one when he sees you, the small and genuine smile tugging on his lips, and right now, especially at this moment when his voice cracked and softened while speaking. he had already expected the moment when you’ll leave him, he was a puppet that can live long and you were just a mortal, a weak one. he was going to outlive you but why? why does it have to be this soon?

“you can tell me your confession later so please…”

but you knew better than that, you know there wasn’t going to be a later for both of you—maybe for him and only for him—, you weren’t foolish to not know that, death was already waiting for you with an open door but he was still tugging and holding on to your hand.

“i—i love you, kuni.”

he doesn’t respond, only holding his tongue back as he brings your hand to his lips and presses a long kiss on it but you were numb, you were already feeling numb and you hate how much his warmth was slipping off you, you hate how you couldn’t feel him underneath your touch, you hate that you’re dying right now and you don’t get to live your fullest with him.

“i love you, say it back, please?” a sad smile engulfs your lips as you try to meet his eyes with your unfocused gaze, was it the tears or was it the fact that your consciousness is fading off you?

“i—i love you. i love you, i love you, so please just stop talking, just stop it.” if you truly love him, you’ll stay. “don’t—“ his voice breaks out into a sob, tears that he had been holding back since earlier came like a waterfall. to love is to stay, is to be with him.

but you didn’t, you couldn’t, and for the last, you mouth those three words at him with a smile on your face, feeling your body going limp as your eyes closed.

he whispers, “—don’t leave me,” to the ghost of you.

;; XIAO

thoughts still continued to haunt his mind every time the memory resurfaces on a silent cold morning: if only he was a second early, if only he was there, if only he was able to protect you. if only he wasn’t so foolish.

“xiao.”

he could still recall your voice and the way you called out to his name, it was distant, almost seemed to be fading and everything started to piece together into the sight before him as soon as the environment changed when he answered to your feeble call of his name.

it looks like a fight has occurred, the scent of it wafting to his senses—it reeks of blood, it reeks of death, and his frightened gaze laid on your figure on the cold ground, almost lifeless.

he calls out to your name and in contrast to your soft voice, his was audible, loud enough to keep you holding on the last strand of your slipping consciousness. it was a shout, deriving from panic and fear, and you noticed yourself being picked up by a pair of arms, familiar ones soon after.

“xiao…?”

“i’m here, don’t talk. i’m going to find you some hel—“

you quickly interrupted him with a cough, blood sputtering out of your mouth as you did, and his eyes widened, a breath getting stuck on his throat. and just for a brief moment, he saw his world crumble down seeing that rude warm liquid staining your clothes. his body shook, he was all too familiar with this sight, all too familiar with the scene—he had taken many lives in the battlefield to not recognize the death that seeps into your ragged breath.

and he yields to his crumbling resolve because even if he chooses to deny what is happening, it still won’t stop you from dying. he wanted to scold you, he wanted to reprimand you for putting yourself in danger, but that’s not what you needed, not when all you needed was him and his comfort in your last.

“why…?” was all he could say as he dropped to the floor, tear-stained eyes clouding his vision while he holds you close. you knew what he was asking and you knew the answer to it but you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him—if ever he’ll learn the reason, he’ll blame myself and you don’t want that, you don’t want him to be in such misery when it wasn’t his fault that he wasn’t there.

“you’re here… thank you.” and with all the strength left in you, you spoke to him in a low voice, a smile plastered on your blood-stained lips, before your vision dims and you lay limp in his hold; he could only cradle your head closer to him as weak sobs started to escape his lips.

if only.

© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.

[baileypie-writes]

miss shamour being a motherly figure to reader? 🥹

A/N ~ Sure! This is such a cute idea! Hope you enjoy!

~Shamour Being Your Motherly Figure~

~~~🐾~~~🐾~~~🐾~~~

Fandom: Go! Princess Pretty Cure

Fanfic Type: Headcanons

Reader: Gender neutral

Relationship: Platonic

Characters Included: Shamour

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 335

Warnings: Small mention of potential mental/physical health problems

~Masterlists~

~Go! Princess Pretty Cure Masterlist~

~~~🐾~~~🐾~~~🐾~~~

~ While she never lets you or anyone else know, you’re Shamour’s favorite student! She still treats everyone equally when it comes to teaching, of course. It’s her job, after all. But your success in lessons makes her the happiest. Especially when you’re proud of yourself!

~ She usually never visits unless summoned from the Lesson Pad. However, sometimes she wants to see how you’re doing. She does random check ins to see if you’re well both physically and mentally. And, of course, she checks how your grades are.

~ She’s very serious when it comes to guiding you to your dream and future. She wants you to be successful in whatever it is you want to do. So she has plenty of lessons prepared for you! All of them are for something useful to what you’re aiming for.

~ If you ever need an adult to accompany you somewhere, she’ll happily fill in for the role! She’ll play the part of a family friend, an aunt or even your mother if you’re comfortable! Of course, whatever it is you need her for, she’ll help you get it done. No dillydallying! Just because she’s not actually who she’s pretending to be, doesn’t mean you can slack off!

~ Any of your accomplishments are proudly celebrated by Shamour. No matter how big or small, she’s happy for you! And she lets you know that you should be too. Encouragement is important for dreams to grow, so you’ll get plenty!

~ She’s very talented in keeping organized. So if you’d like, she can make you your own schedule! She’ll take time and effort to make it perfect, ensuring you the best possible work plan. She also accounts for free time and a good nights rest!

~ Your health is of the utmost importance, both physical and mental. So if you’re not okay, Shamour will drop everything to make sure your body and mind get back to the conditions they need to be in. She doesn’t want you to suffer longer than you need to.

~~~🐾~~~🐾~~~🐾~~~

~~baileypie-writes

[mariamakeslemons]

Kinktober 2024: Day 30 Sex Pollen/Object Insertion

Warning: Reader is Gender Neutral, König is implied under the influence of something so mild Dub/non-con vibes retroactively

König pants heavily, his cock pulsing in his pants as he trudges through KorTac’s base. He needs to find you, his sweet little nurse. You can cure him, he knows you can. Only, when he arrives at the nursing station, he’s told you aren’t there. He huffs and leaves, not willing to let out the whine he wants to in public. Stomping through the halls, he hunts you down. König knows he’s being childish, he’s being the caveman you occasionally joke that he is. But he doesn’t care. He needs you, he needs you, heneeds you, heneedsyou,heneedsyouheneedsyouheneedsyouhenee-

“Oh fuck.” He stops, listening carefully. He’s rewarded by hearing you gasp, “Fuck, need more.” It takes him only a few seconds to figure out which room you’re in and he batters the door down.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Holy shit!” you yelp, covering yourself and sitting on the dildo you were using. It presses in your ass deliciously, but you can’t focus on it. Not with how König is panting in your room, his eyes wild under his hood as he prowls toward you.

“Need you, little nurse,” he rumbles, grabbing your leg and flipping you onto your back. You yelp again, only to moan when he fucks you open with the dildo still in your ass. He wiggles it around, opening you up and coaxing you into an orgasm. You cum, jerking and twitching as König drags the faux-cock from your abused hole. He thoughtlessly drops it on the floor before clamoring on your bed.

“Remember to breathe,” he orders, pulling out his terrifyingly proportionate cock from his pants. You pant and blink before screeching when he presses into your oversensitive body. König groans, dropping enough to hunch over you as hazy eyes stare blankly ahead.

“Fuuuuuuck,” you moan as König rambles in quick German, far too fast for you to really know what he’s saying. Something about ‘perfect’, ‘good tight’ and ‘wife shape’, your brain blurs it all together as just sensations that overload you.

“Take me,” König orders with a growl, one you only heard on the occasion you ended up on the field. This is no longer awkward wallflower König, this is Colonel König who knows exactly what to do. You whimper and pray that you’ll survive.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Waking to the sunlight entering the room, König furrows his brows in confusion. His room is internal, with no window and a dingy lightbulb that swings if he bumps against one of the walls even slightly. Opening his eyes, he realizes that he is not in his room. Especially when he looks down to see you cuddling against his chest.

“A-Ah! Little nurse!” he yelps, only to flinch when you smack his bare chest sleepily.

“You fucked me all last night, the least you can do is let me sleep in,” you grumble, cuddling even closer. König flushes, his brain running as he tries to figure out what exactly he did to you last night. All he really recalls is getting sprayed with something while on the field, stumbling on to the heli to leave, then a blurry flashing of color and thought. ‘Pretty’ among them, followed by ‘mine’. König crushes you against him with another whine, barely acknowledging your hand smacking at him for air.

[astrae4]

THE HUNTER AND THE PREY | SHEN QUANRUI

FEATURING Zerobaseone’s Ricky as the son of Duke Shen, Prince Shen Quanrui and you as the daughter of Duke Han, Princess Han Y/N.

GENRE romance, angst, fluff | historical fantasy, supposed enemies to lovers, forced marriage, northern duke au

WARNINGS 2.8k words, non-gender neutral reader (reader will be using female pronouns/titles), forced marriage, infidelity, mention of heart attack, mild swearing, and blatant favoritism.

NOTE i do hope you enjoy this chapter! thank you for the support you have given me so far! reblogs would be greatly appreciated if you’d do so ☺️💗

MORE — masterlist | next chapter

WHAT DO YOU DO WHEN, all your life, you’ve been told to hate someone because they’re your family’s opponent and then all of a sudden (in a matter of five days), you need to act as if you’ve been on good terms with them? No guidebook or school course could have prepared you for what’s to happen right now.

Yes, of course you’re aware that you’d be married off to your father’s choice of family for all your life, you think you’ve accepted it already. I mean, one would think so after being reminded of it all your life right? It’s not like it’s uncommon anyways. Everyone in the nobility marries through convenience and then has flings with their lovers. It’s more common than you think. You’d know, since you caught one of your father’s friends with their mistress once.

Yet, who’d assume that you’d be married off to the Ducal House of Shen of all people? You don’t think you would have put that in your bingo (yes, bingo exists back then) list this year—or any year to be honest.

For a bit of background to the confused readers (breaking the fourth wall let’s gaurr), The Zerose Empire exists with four ducal houses: Park, which exists in the west; Kim, from the South; Han of the East, and Shen of the North. Your family, The Ducal house of Han, has always been in opposition with the Ducal house of Shen. It was a fact that everyone knew, and it was a dislike that stemmed from way back then. (one so long that you don’t even know the reason anymore, just that you weren’t supposed to like them.)

And yes, the dislike is still rooted to this day. You could imagine how tired the Emperor, other noble houses, and ministry workers were. By this point they were quite sick of the petty arguments from both the ducal households. So sick, in fact, that Emperor Zhanghao IV, used the imperial command and declared that “Duke Han shall bring forth his most beloved daughter to marry Duke Shen’s successor.”

Your father almost had a heart attack after the declaration, but it was of no use to bargain since the imperial command was used.

In your opinion, father was a pretty good man. Not perfect or clean of course, but good. Your mother was the first wife, and surprisingly, the only wife he truly loved. It was unfortunate that mother died a year after you were born because of her weak body, and even more unfortunate that her only child turned out to be pretty weak too. He had remarried once more since then, and has had a few mistresses and children out of wedlock in an attempt to cure his aching heart. Despite the new ladies, you were still the first in his heart considering you were the only child he had out of the wife he loves.

Having a big room beside your father’s in the second floor all to yourself when all the others had to be in the first floor spiked a few jealous hearts, but your father was persistent and only allowed you the best despite your not-so-healthy body. So it was to no one’s surprise that Emperor Zhanghao meant for your father to pick you to be married to the young master of the Shen Ducal house.

That was five days ago. Your father had begged for your understanding to comply with the Emperor’s words despite him not liking the command either. He had told you that it was for the unity of the Empire and that the Ducal house of Shen had promised to your father and the Emperor that they would treat you with utmost respect; and that if they break that promise, you would be sent back with ten times the alimony paid by your father. (and boy was the original alimony already a crazy amount)

You had told your father to not worry about it as you knew your father worried for you greatly. After all, in his eyes, you were still the weak baby that he held in his arms just last week. How could he send a weak child to the harsh northern lands where you were unfamiliar with everything? Of course, you had your own worries too. Different from your father’s, though. Mostly about your own soon to be husband.

Unlike your family, where many children reside, the Ducal house of Shen only had one heir. The young master of the North, Shen Quanrui, was said to be a cold man according to the rumors you’ve heard from your maids. He was quiet and reserved, only showing his face in high society once in a blue moon. Similar to you in that matter, except it was because you were often too sick to attend rather than introverted.

You too had only met him once, in the Empire’s founding anniversary ball. Though you didn’t have the best memory, you could easily recall that face of his. Blonde hair that seemed to be dyed and striking blue eyes, it was as if he stepped out of a fantasy storybook. You’re sure he wore colored contacts back then, considering that both the Duke and Duchess had dark eyes. Nevertheless it didn’t change the fact that he was probably the most handsome man you’ve ever seen. You remember exchanging eye contact with him for a bit longer than you should have, and you remember how he raked your appearance with his eyes as if he was the hunter and you were the prey. You rolled your eyes and left back then despite the butterflies you got.

The sound of your bedroom door opening strips you out of your imagination.

”Sister,” said the voice of a young boy, “can I come in?”

”Yes,” you answered, “come in, Yujin.”

Han Yujin, the son of your father and his second mistress, was the only half-sibling you deemed close to you. His mother had died early on due to the same sickness as yours did, leaving him alone to fend off all the jealous eyes around him. You had sympathized with him, so you decided to keep him close and make him untouchable as one of your people. The young boy has since then grown attached to you, listening attentively to everything you say. Now, the young boy had become strong and wise, making him one of the successor candidates.

”I heard from father that you’d be married to that damned man, Shen Quanrui or whatever,” Sulked Yujin.

”That damned man,” you sighed, “is still a respectable man who fended off the wild beasts and is a close aide of the Emperor, you shouldn’t speak of him with that tone.”

“But—sister! He’s our enemy, we’re not supposed to like him! And—and, I heard from the maids that he’s a cruel and heartless man. What if he treats you harshly and locks you up in a tower or something!? What if he’s an indifferent husband who never looks after his wife and just messes around with other women? You deserve someone who’d love you and treat you as the apple of their eye—someone like—”

”Yujin,” Your voice stopped his train of thoughts as you held his hand, “don’t worry too much, okay? It’s not like I’m going there alone. My personal maids and Dr. Seok would be with me in the North, and they would report to father if anything happened. If he ever treats me cruelly, then I’ll be back here before you know it.”

”But still…I don’t want you away from me..”

“AWEE is my baby brother worried for me~” you teased as you squished him into a hug, emitting a loud Hey! from him as he tried to get out of your tight grasp.

Whether your words were to reassure him or you; however, you don’t know.

YOU’RE CLOSE TO SLAPPING Emperor Zhanghao. Okay, so maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration unless you want a one way ticket to a death penalty. But what the hell man. It was so (notice the sarcasm?) nice of him to let you marry a man you’re supposed to hate that he even gave you a due date of two weeks to be locked in for life. What is the meaning of marriage to him? Homework? I mean it might as well be since no one wanted this…

But here you are preparing for your wedding as the maids have meticulously worked their magic on you. Hours of hard work to make you “the most beautiful bride to ever exist that not even the cold young master could resist.” (says them) They expected him to fall on his knees and have his spring blossom the moment he laid eyes on you. Though you didn’t believe it, you still laughed along with them.

When you looked at yourself in the mirror, you were honestly taken aback. Clad in a simple yet elegant dress with your hair up, you looked like a painting. Damn, did they really outdo themselves. If that man doesn’t fall in love with you (or at least find you the slightest bit attractive) at first sight then he’s probably just not into women. (It honestly doesn’t sound impossible considering that you’ve never heard of him being in a relationship with a woman before.)

It doesn’t really hit you that you’re getting married until your father comes in. The moment you see the tears in his eyes, you also feel your eyes water. You remember being young and dreaming of how you’d marry someone you love. You remember planning your dream wedding. This was it. This was what you had always imagined. Yet, all at the same time, it seemed so different. The reality of your situation juxtaposing the wedding you have always dreamed of. Oh, to be young and naive.

You bite your lip and look down, unable to face them. It seemed as if your father could read your thoughts as he took your hands in his.

“Oh y/n…” He started carefully, as if thinking on what to say next so you wouldn’t feel upset on your big day.

“It’s fine—”

“I’m sorry.”

“What?”

“I-I know you’ve been dreaming of this day for a long time, I’m sorry we only had a short time to prepare for it. But, I promise you, I did my best to make it as grandiose as I could possibly do so and—”

“No, seriously, it’s fine,” you denied, despite not being the most pleased, you know that your father had tried his best for you and you didn’t want to seem ungrateful, “I’m just melancholic that we won’t be as close anymore. I was informed that even though the Duke and Duchess are here in the capital, Prince Shen handles the matters in the North.”

“Ah!” Exclaimed your father as if he had just realized, “Don’t worry about that! The North has the fastest trains in the kingdom. You can visit us anytime, it would only take you five hours.”

“Oh really?” You said, pretending that you didn’t know that fact, “That’s great then, I can visit anytime I want.”

“Yes yes—now come, hold my hand once more. It’s time to walk the aisle.”

You hold his arm, finally walking out of the dressing room and towards the venue. The walk was mostly silent, and no one talked until you both reached the closed door that opens to the venue.

“Y/n.” said your father in a heavy voice.

”Yes?”

”I know I don’t say this often, but I hope for your happiness. If he ever makes you unhappy, then come back to me. I’ll even commit treason if the Emperor stands in the way, haha.”

“Father…”

”I know, I know. Gosh, I sound so old. Ready to meet the son of that corpulent piece of shit?”

”Father!”

“Oops sorry, old habits die hard. I mean, ready to meet your husband?”

”Yeah yeah, let’s just go already.”

Your father signaled the attendant to open the door, and shortly after, you could hear the announcer call your title. You realize that this may be the last time you’d be called with the surname Han.

You had little time to ponder on it though, as soon the gates opened and you had to focus on not tripping on your heels as you walked beside your father down the aisle.

The wedding venue was…wow, honestly. Your father is surely a big liar, you conclude. Pretty? Not even words can describe how beautiful the venue is. You’d think the wedding was planned for two years if you were an onlooker. The venue was held in a historical building which had lots of carved statues and decorative designs. Huge pillars hold up the roof, each pillar covered in vines and flowers. The roof in itself had hand-painted art that seemed to wash out from time, and a huge chandelier held on to the roof in the middle, sparkling so bright that it seemed like diamonds. Fresh white and purple flowers decorated the guests’ tables, and all around the venue were violinists in white dresses, standing on a short and small podium, seeming to mimic the sculptures that decorate the walls.

The road in front of you seemed to be shining, and you don’t realize how near you are until you feel your father let your hand go. Ah, this was it. He transferred your hand to an unfamiliar one, and it was only now that you finally looked at your soon-to-be’s face. It was slightly distorted thanks to the veil, but from what you could tell, the man was wearing a full white tux made from silk and decorated by pearls, with a black tie to complete his outfit.

‘At least he doesn’t have a boring fashion taste,’ you conclude.

Time passes, and before you know it, you have already said your promises and ‘I do’s.

“Please exchange rings,” says the priest.

Prince Shen takes the ring first, and then holds your hand. As he puts the ring on you, you could slightly feel his hand tremble.

‘Ha?’ you think, ‘does he despise me so much that the touch of my hand makes him furious?’

It leaves a bitter taste to your tongue, surprisingly. Your thoughts make you miss the lingering touch of his thumb on your ring finger. And, when it got to your turn, you quickly put the ring on his finger, letting go of his hand right after.

“You may kiss the bride to seal the promise,” declares the priest.

You could see his hands hold the bottom of the veil, before lifting it, finally giving you an opportunity to see his face. You conclude that God certainly took a long time to make that face. His face was the same as you remembered. Striking and attention-grabbing in a good way. The only thing that bothered you seemed to be his eyes. It seemed cold and distant, yet sharp. It was as if he was able to uncover all your secrets, and it made you nervous.

You feel his hand reach out to your chin, and you hold your breath. It was like you couldn’t breath, eyes searching all over his face on what he’d do next. He leans in, and your thoughts flood in a panic. It was like you were frozen, unable to move. Your heart starts beating so loud that you can't hear anything else. What should I do? How should I react? Why is he getting so clo—

“May I?” He breathed out, and you can just feel his breath right in front of your lips.

No? I don’t know. No, thank you. No, no, no—

“Yes,” you answered breathlessly, as if finally letting yourself take in the air.

And before you could overthink once more, his lips crashed into yours, so desperate for it that you had to hold his arm to stabilize yourself. It was as if he had been waiting for this for a long time—like an impatient tiger having to wait for the right time to finally strike its prey. And, just like a tiger who never lets go of its prey, he doesn’t seem to have any intention in letting you escape.

CLARIFICATIONS IN THE STORY

An Imperial command means that if you don’t comply with it, you’re committing treason. An Emperor can only use this command a few times in his lifetime.

Why is Yujin a candidate successor but not you? Back then, only men were allowed to be successors.

“Young Master” is what the employees call their boss/client who have not earned a title yet.

The term “Spring Blossom” is commonly used in old korean folk stories and means that one has started to find love in their heart or is beginning to love someone.

“Prince” and “Princess” is the term you officially use for the daughter/son of a duke/duchess. A king or emperor’s child is called your majesty.

The term “Spring Blossom” is commonly used in old korean folk stories and means that one has started to find love in their heart or is beginning to love someone.

“Prince” and “Princess” is the term you officially use for the daughter/son of a duke/duchess. A king or emperor’s child is called your majesty.

comment down or send an ask if you’re confused about anything!

TAGLIST. @ja4hyvn @flwoie @sulkygyu @xiaoderrrr @ineedaherosavemeenow @lonewolfjinji @teddywonss @khaelscafe @autumn583 @lvieee @cyberstephzz @cara-rey @cuntserver8000 @yujinified @lowcalmarlboro @moncheriesu @carat-rose @fairyytyunn @taerae-verse @peachyy-moon @kaywhyessssss @cheederzchez @hueningcry @renjuneoo @totalnieparksunghoon @kuromixheartzzz @nerezza1234567891-blog @dilucpegg3r @ohsunnyboy @iraa567 @k-p0p-4ever @slimeclimbtime

NETWORKS — @k-labels @zumblrnet

© astrae4 2024 | please don’t copy, translate, or plagiarize my works on all platforms!

[averagedemoenjoyer]

CW: THIS POST CONTAINS BLOOD MENTIONS (PERIOD STUFF BASICALLY) AND NSFW (17+ only for that section pls)

this is very self indulgent bc i just got my period and i’m really sad bc of it soooo :3

sniper with a s/o thats on their period!!

(afab reader obviously, gender neutral tho)

—🫙—

SFW

he does actually know what a period is since his mum explained it to him after his dad gave him “the talk”

this is because he asked if people did it all the time, and his mum responded with “well, not really.” she then proceeded to explain the menstrual cycle to him

that being said, hes usually pretty good with dealing with periods. he’s had some girlfriends in the past and he was pretty good at dealing with periods then. he struggled a bit with his first girlfriend but he figured it out

he usually doesn’t like cooking meals, like he usually sticks to just barbecuing stuff. but if you’re craving it? he’ll 100% make it. what’s even better is if you’re craving something that he can buy from the shops or order and have delivered

refuses to let you do ANYTHING that too requires movement, not even small stuff like grabbing the tv remote. if you do have to get up and go to the toilet or shower, he’s carrying you over there

if you want something, he’ll go grab it for you. and i mean it. anything you want, he’ll go out of his way and grab it for you. a blanket, a snack, something to cure your boredom. basically if you get your period, you’ve earned yourself a servant for a week

one essential that he will ALWAYS get for you is a heatpack. it apparently helped his mum a bunch when she got her periods so ever since getting found out about it, he’s gone out of his way to make sure there is at least 2 heatpacks in his van. not even just for periods, any kind of cramp really. (pyro offered to heat one up once, but didn’t understand that heatpacks are heated up via a microwave and not actual flames)

if he’s not busy, he’ll snuggle up behind you and watch some tv. he’ll do all that good old fashioned kissing your head, nuzzling himself into the crook of your neck, playing with your hair. all that jazz

(nsfw under the cut)

—🫙—

—🫙—

NSFW

i know some people headcanon that sniper would like period sex. and while i agree, i feel like he would only do it under certain circumstances (those being; if you’re okay with it, if your cramps aren’t that bad, if he’s got a condom on him at the time, stuff like that)

if you DO end up doing it, he’ll go a lot slower than usual. he’s kinda scared that he’ll make your cramps worse, so even if you REALLY want him to go fast, he won’t go too fast unless he’s about to cum. as much as it kills him to do it this way, your comfort comes first.

also wouldn’t mind fingering you, but again he does it slowly, just to avoid giving you worse cramps. the same goes for eating you out.

if he’s the one that got hard first and you’re NOT ok with receiving anything sexually while on your period, he’s always open for you to give him head. hell he ENCOURAGES it. he would get you in a position that you are comfortable in and let you go at it, with or without cramps. if not, he’ll just jerk off either next to you or in another room

in general when it comes periods and sexual stuff, he’s really all about your comfort (he’s like that even when your off your period, but it’s higher when you’re on it) unlike other mercs… ahem scout-

nsfw section done

—🫙—

again, thank you so much for reading all the way thru!!

i apologise for not posting for a while, i haven’t been doing too well mentally for the past couple of months, but i’m doing a lot better now and i should be getting to the requests soon since i’ve now graduated! so stay tuned for that and have an awesome day/night! also requests are still open, so make sure to read my pinned to see my dos and don’ts.

[dreamtuna]

Sunset

Attack on Titan - Levi x Reader || fluff, gender neutral reader

The light afternoon breeze was beginning to cool on your skin as evening rolled in. The sun was just beginning to set, the sky starting to burn before you, the lightest brushing of clouds still rolling by. Not many people came past here this time of day, the quiet allowing you to just breathe, your body sagging from weariness. You sat on the stone steps, leaning back on your hands and just listening to the last of the birds flitting past.

So it surprised you when you heard footsteps approaching, jolting you out of your peace. You were slightly annoyed, but when they stopped behind you it gave you a pretty good idea who it might be. Looking up you found Levi’s face staring down at you. At first glance he seemed unreadable and closed off, but the tiredness in his eyes was more than evident. He, too, was weary.

Without a word he sat down behind you, scooting close so you now sat between his legs, your back flush against his chest. His warmth engulfed you as his arms wrapped around your body, pulling you closer into him as he placed his chin on your shoulder. With a deep sigh that tickled your cheek, he relaxed into you. His scent surrounded you, deliciously inviting even after a long day of work.

“Tired?” you asked, hand landing on his to gently rub your thumb across his skin.

He made an affirmative grunt and nuzzled his face into your neck. After a moment, his lips grazed against your skin in a soft, lazy kiss. He squeezed you tighter.

Together you sat and watched the sunset. You didn’t say much between you. In fact, he said nothing at all, only grunting in response to your occasional question. You sat in this quiet comfort, enjoying the warmth of one another as the evening chill set in around you. Every now and then his lips brushed against your skin, his arms squeezed tighter, he nuzzled into you. This quiet affection was the perfect cure for your weariness, leaving in its place just a sweet, gentle love.

At one point he nuzzled into your neck and stayed there for a while. He wasn’t much for words, but when his exhaustion hit he would often come up behind you and do this. You knew this little act, as awkward and childlike as it was, was his own way of expressing his love for you. And he knew when you squeezed his hand in recognition, as simple and frequent as it was, that you loved him back just the same.

[worriedvision]

Stuck in one place - Kazuha

Gender neutral reader, Kazuha travels to Mondstadt and finds a person who lives in the wilderness, seemingly bored of everything in Mondstadt just looking the same. Unhappy ending

_

When he came to Mondstadt he made the mistake of visiting you - a person who lived in the wilderness of Mondstadt. He was intrigued when hearing of a mysterious "being". Nobody knew who you were, nor were there any missing people's signs up besides the travelers sibling.

He spent time with you, convincing you people made places interesting once he realised you were very introverted but you loved playing your guitar. The music was quite pretty, but ominous to anyone who bought into the rumours you were a deity who planned to kill anyone who got close.

Of course, Kazuha couldn't help but be curious. Perhaps you were like a siren by luring people in with your music, but Kazuha thought you were simply sad.

When you first met, you were immediately taken in by him. You couldn't help but find him attractive, his soft voice matching his appearance. He sat next to you, offering to befriend you because of your music interest.

He'd visit you every night he was in Mondstadt, which led to the inevitable catching proper feelings for him. Ones you hadn't known, ones to warm your chest. He always gave you something interesting to look forward to. He even took you into the town once to show you how many different personalities there are, which once again made you think you were in love.

The last day he was in Mondstadt, you confessed to him. In response, he gave you a reality check.

"I'm afraid I travel alone." Kazha replies.

"I can come with you, please." You insist, only to drop back upon seeing Kazuha become more uncomfortable with your insistence.

"...I can see why you fell for me - I'm the first human you interacted with in a while." When you hear this, you just feel very embarrassed. "I enjoyed our time together in Mondstadt, however I'd prefer to just be friends. I'm sorry, but I don't think I can look at anyone the way you look at me."

Nodding, you slowly turn around nd hunch over, head in your hand as you realise how desperate you have grown.

"Next time I visit Mondstadt, I would like to see you again."

"...Don't visit me again." You blankly reply, Kazuha looking down at his feet. "My time in this world is short, it wouldn't have worked."

"...What?"

"You heard the rumours of a land Siren, yes? Well, that's true - I don't know my origin, but this guitar is a large part of me. I have no family, no friends."

"Apart from-"

"No, even you aren't a friend. All you are trying to do is soften my rejection, that much is clear." You sigh, grasping your guitar. "I have been given orders to burn the guitar, destroy my lifeform. I just wanted to leave this world without any regrets - so thank you for confirming you will never look at me the way I look at you."

"Perhaps if I speak to the Acting Grand Master I can find a cure for...you..." Kazuha stops, noting you have already started to walk away.

He hears you start a fire, and he spots the orange gleam of light that erupts when you throw the guitar in. Kazuha runs up to see you one last time, and you look...neutral. you don't look relieved of sad, you're just there.

Well, not now that you were growing more difficult to see as more of your dorm gets burned in the fire.

The fire died down after some time, leaving behind the guitar strings and the pegs holding them to the one existent body. You are no longer here, Kazuha could tell.

Kazuha places the strings in a more visible slit, finding a stick and making a headstone for you before paying his respects, leaving your body to rest.