#seeking absolution verse
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Send me “Stay here with me tonight.” for my muse’s reaction
Accepting | Mutuals Only
@sentineloftheunderworld left a message: “Stay here with me tonight.”
Brows furrow at the question, head tilting slightly but enough that loose strands of red and white shift over her shoulder. She's quiet, studying her former mentor for a moment, he looks tired. This is one of the many reasons she doesn't look at him too closely, she makes jokes about him being old and calls him an old man even, but she doesn't want to see it in truth. It's just something to laugh about, and yet it isn't. Vincent is old, and he's worn, and yes, grumpy as hell a lot of the time, but he's earned that right.
"Where else am I going to go?" She's sure he means to stay at the Valentine Estate, which she had been, and she had lost track of how long that had been. Natasha supposes she could leave and maybe that's Vincent's deal, he's concerned she will just go off on her own and leave him behind…
Oh.
"Alright." She sits back down, crossing her legs and settling with her back against the wall. Both of them are solitary beings, but sometimes loneliness was not the best company, and it was better to have someone near who understands than to be alone with yourself and your own thoughts.
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@shivcomplex sent: that's my favorite way to be an ally. you just say you're doing something, and then you don't do any of those things. [ ACCEPTING. ]
❝ is that like, your family motto ? passed down from generation to generation ? ❞ tone is decipherably bitter as paris crosses the room with her jacket in her hand. she stares at it for a moment, as if deciding whether or not to put it back on, before tossing it across a padded chair. ❝ — classy, shiv. ❞
she says as if she knows anything about classy. even with SILK's steadily growing success, paris still feels small in shiv's expansive apartments and luxurious hotel rooms. it's weird having a platform. it's weird having any level of success after begging shiv to help her achieve it. she feels like, after all that hard work, she should be doing something helpful . . . with so many people looking to her. she should get out of here and make a grand re - entry at the gala she ditched.
that must be one of the main differences between them. paris had to fight for status. moreso than shiv, at least.
but it's not an irreconcilable difference. not on paris' end. and maybe that [ or just associating with her, ] makes her a bad person, but she can't help it. she's a moth to the other's flaming red hair.
paris sighs, flopping down unceremoniously on the same chair where her coat rests. from there, she shrugs. ❝ so like, what's the deal ? you got a thousand dollar wine hiding back there ? ❞
#shivcomplex#me going absolutely cuckoo bananas over them AGAIN.....#: / ♯ answer. … something you still seek. '#: / ♯ verse: 04. … i'm so navy blue. '
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atsv is out-homestucking homestuck and i love it
#atsv#across the spider verse#homestuck#seriously tho#it not only has its own dreambubbles#but also an oppressive narrative force that reinforces canon#and the atsv protags ultimately seek to break that narrative#which hs also does to a degree but by the end loses sight of it#anyway go watch atsv if you havent yet its absolutely gorgeous
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abandon all hope.
RATING: explicit. 18+ only. — LENGTH: 9,131— Raphael x f![warlock]tav [reader]
CONTENT: being a patron is being a sugar daddy/mommy you can't change my mind, set during Act II canon, small amounts of alcohol consumption, toxic behavior/ expressions of possession/ownership, "fluff", SMUT [unprotected p in v], KINK(S) [praise kink, orgasm control, hair pulling, biting, scratching/clawing, blood, breath play, dacryphilia, just a little degredation, size], there's a lot of poetry in here I did my best, Haarlep cameo, the least Raphael could've done for killing an Orthon for him is fuck us ffs, have fun thinking Raphael is bad at sex I'm built different, this got out so out of hand
you had become his absolute favorite - his most precious client and prized treasure. it's become increasingly difficult not to admit that you're truly his forever...and he's ready to hear it.
"In a world of horrors where shadows loom, A tiny creature navigates through certain doom. A little mouse, determination in its eye, Hoping this will not be its last heard lullaby."
It would be a lie to say that very voice didn't send the most delightful of shivers down your spine each time it announced his presence to you - you hung on each syllable like he was speaking a new language you were desperate to understand. Though your back was turned to him as the corners of your lips twitched upward you could feel in your soul - the one that no longer belonged to you - that he knew.
Though you may have been doing your best to feign disinterest and even often annoyance at his dramatics, it was no secret that you found him amusing. Fortunately, he happened to feel rather the same, a creeping mirth building in his chest at this familiar performance you were putting on.
"Just when I was beginning to miss your theatrics."
It was only then he realized just how badly he'd yearned to hear your voice again in the time since it had last swam into his ears. Curiously - but perhaps not at all - he felt his mouth go temporarily dry as his next rehearsed verse fell from his mind momentarily. When his silence lingered you filled it gracefully as you knelt before a bucket of water, scrubbing your arms free of the blood that covered them as you worked off the most uncomfortable parts of your armor.
His stumble did not last forever - his practiced words would not go to waste.
"With the battle fought and her patron's foe slain, She has etched upon her weary soul so very much strain. With a gentleness most sincere, the Patron offers her rest. Her wearied body, soon at peace even in her mind, No longer bound by battles' fierce behest, Their worries, for a moment, left entirely behind.
For the strongest heroes, too, do need a moment's grace, To find their strength renewed in the tenderest embrace."
Though his continued lack of transparency was frustrating, particularly after the stretch of days you'd had at his bidding, you noticed the practice lilt in his words, the methodic delivery of his latest poem.
"Have you been practicing poetry for me again, my Lord?" your tone was filled to the brim with the very amusement you felt, amusement that was growing by the moment at the slight waver in his voice, the subtlest indication that now was one of few times his trademark control had faltered. "I must tell you, it really is quite sweet. I've never inspired such before."
Your pleasantries and a title you so rarely chose for him stirred a feeling oh-so rare and delicious in him, a tingle up his spine that spread a wicked grin across his face. Exhausted, and uncaring of the company at the moment you continued your work on seeking your own comfort, continuing to peel armor away from your figure and toss it to the side.
Maybe you knew the lack of attention would agonize him - maybe that was only just more amusement for you. Annoyingly, he was attempting to bury the desires as he always did around you, finding now that the feelings stirring were beginning to gnaw their way out from the inside.
"You flatter me with honorifics yet ignore my presence."
His words had the slightest bit of edge to them and yet the tone in which they were delivered could be described as little more than a purr. It was a tone you'd discovered was reserved to fall on your ears alone - he never spoke to you this way in company, though you didn't doubt others existed that were fortunate enough to hear it. It was delicious - made more-so by the sharpness to them, the gentle bite that warned his limits were being tested.
The fact you only heard it when you were alone meant you seldom travelled with companions for too long, discarding them when your interests were no longer the central focus. It was lonely, but few wanted to be at your side when they discovered the source of your power, and the moments like this reaffirmed your decision each and every time.
"In a land of shadows shrouded with a curse most horrific, Lies a weary hero, hoping her devil might be more specific. For if she doesn't soon rest, Her weary body will be for the shadows to ingest."
There was no denying the radiance and allure in his laughter - it rang out so beautifully it didn't fit in a place like this, it almost wasn't fair for such a joyous sound to ring out in such a cursed land. Now, you couldn't help yourself - you turned to face him with a light smile pulling at your lips, exhaustion written on your face accentuated by the blood of those you'd slain in his name.
It pulled at his heart, something that seldom occurred - you were truly always a sight like this, in his eyes at least.
"Your skills increase tenfold each time we meet," he complimented, the smile settling on his face matched by the pull of the wrinkles beside his eyes. "You were successful in your latest task."
It was a statement - not a question, the wordless affirmation of his continued faith in your abilities. Still, you could've given him a snarky response - the blood covering your body and armor wasn't enough of a clue for him? In truth, though, you'd began to enjoy the moments where he complimented you - even more the rare moment he actually thanked you.
"As always," your coy tone was the final act to try to hide the giddiness you felt now, as well as the fatigue that was slowly overtaking your body. When was the last time you had eaten? When he left would you simply remove the rest of your armor and do your best to build a fire and lay beside it, or would you simply make do with the cold ground beneath you now?
He could sense it; he knew exactly what was on your mind. In truth, your thoughts were mirrored in his - this was no place for someone of your caliber to rest, especially not when you'd been so very good for him already. He'd heard about your camp, of course, but seeing it for himself - well, it really was quite awful.
A snap of his fingers and once again you were in the House of Hope, the unmistakeable extravagant decor a much better sight than the lands you'd been traveling. Though it was a bathroom where you appeared it was already enough to almost bring tears to your eyes - it smelled delightful, a bath was already drawn with bubbles and filling the room with the warmest steam. Unsurprising was the small table beside it filled with fruits, meats, cheeses and wine that made a fresh rumble sound in your stomach.
"It is so very fortunate your generous patron is willing to reward a valiant effort, would you not agree?"
You huffed a breath through your nose as a smile spread further across your fae, heat rising in cheeks as you returned your gaze to his. "And who said devils are selfish?"
His beautiful laughter filled your ears again, the warmth radiating from the fireplace and the bath nothing compared to that which engulfed you just hearing the sound so entirely for you. His movements were smooth as he made his way to the small table, pouring a glass of wine with ease while his eyes stayed on you the entire time.
"You have undertaken quite the ordeal on my behalf, you deserve a proper display of my abundant appreciation," there was the unmistakable purr of sultriness beneath his tone, his strides predatory as he made his way back to you, eyes running up and down your entire frame again before settling on your eyes. "And a bath, though I do so worship the vision of my dark hero covered in the blood of my enemies."
"You show your appreciation by providing me my power."
"And yet," the pause lingered heavily - if you weren't so keen on enjoying everything he had to offer you there would probably be a quip about holding for drama, but now you only looked up at him with wide doe eyes - eager and expectant and deliciously obedient. "I find myself curiously wanting to provide you with more."
The look that was blooming in his eyes was a peculiar one - one of a fondness. He slipped behind you gracefully, one of his hands reaching to grasp your hip and turn you to face an ornate mirror before his arm fully encircled your waist, drawing you back toward his chest. His hand slipped up your body, avoiding any part that would have been too inappropriate to touch without express permission, to grasp your chin, holding your face gently but firmly as he angled it to look in the ornate mirror before you.
"The longer you have my power reflected in your eyes, the more beautiful you become. Wouldn't you agree? You are radiant."
Now it was impossible to pass off the heat that had risen in you as nothing more than the heat from the bath - with his hand just beneath your chin on your neck and his claws digging ever-so-slightly into your skin, the heat had begin to pool at your core. You were still trying to remain focused, to maintain the aura of strength you almost never allowed to falter…particularly around him. But with him pressed to your back and his eyes devouring you in the mirror like a feral animal with a long-awaited meal, there were certain signs from your body that gave you away.
The elevated heart rate. The blown pupils. The pull of your bottom lip between your teeth.
It didn't take any amount of perception to see the signs that were so plainly there, particularly not for a devil who was eager to look for them.
"As you've pointed out, I'm covered in blood."
"A testament to our combined strength, my pet," you were certain with the intensity with which he was staring into your eyes' reflection in the mirror that he had stopped blinking, finding an unchanging face each time your eyes closed briefly. "Do you mind?"
He was offering you the wine glass to free up his hand or to distract yours - it was impossible to tell, really. Regardless of the intent you reached for it, taking a drink and relishing the familiar fire this particular wine ignited in your throat and belly.
Meanwhile his free hand was lightly trailing over the bow to the back laces of your clothing, giving a subtle tug to seek permission as his eyes continued to burn into yours in the mirror. With a nod the laces fell free under the quick work of his fingers - it was somewhat endearing that you knew he could do this with the snap of his fingers, yet he was choosing to do it himself, to peel you apart with his own hands. What you'd been wearing pooled to the ground and revealed the aftermath of your battle in full, all of the bruises and scratches and burns that had no place there…unless they were given by him or on his word.
His hands found your shoulders first and with a familiar warmth your injuries became another part of your past, his eyes trailing up and down your body to ensure all that remained was evidence of injuries not belonging to you.
"Positively resplendent," his breath was hot on your neck as he angled his face closer to yours, his nose brushing behind your ear softly. "A painting of this image would be so suitable for a portrait of us, wouldn't you agree?"
Bravery - it was a characteristic of yours that he cherished nearly more than any other, one that provided endless entertainment (and often worry, though he was hardly eager to admit that). It was the very trait that sometimes pushed you to do or say the very last thing he expected, and yet you still managed to take him by surprise. Even now in his domain was one of those times, your face unwavering and intention resolute as you spoke.
"Not in this form."
All he'd offer in his momentary shock was a raised eyebrow before these features faded and he transformed to the figure he was meant for, wings stretching behind his back as he got more comfortable. This is how he was meant to look - how the two of you were supposed to appear together, the devil and his toy hero, you and the source of your growing power. It would take blindness not to see the radiance with which you two joined together, and even then it was palpable in the air.
Ignoring the many feelings and tensions that crackled between the two of you when you were together was difficult - and growing more impossible by the day.
"This is suitable for the foyer."
He continued to lean down behind you, swallowing you with his true height so he could press a singular kiss behind your ear before straightening his back, his hand that was still flat against your now fluttering stomach pulling you against him tighter. Your skin burned where his lips had graced it - tingling as though his the action was magic. Your body only continued to respond to him with all of the tell-tale signs: a rising temperature, parted lips, blown pupils, quicker breath.
He so adored that you were trying to maintain control - to maintain an unbothered façade.
"You prefer me this way."
It left his mouth as a statement, but you caught the subtle insecurity at the tail of the sentence, the way his words slightly trailed and his eyes flashed with a truth - and hope? - that was so rarely seen.
Was he afraid of your answer?
"You don't need to wear a mask around me," you were quick to silence his doubt and eager to put out a particular fire that threatened everything around it boiling beneath his surface. Your sincerity and sensitivity was hardly what had initially drawn him to you - he loved that you'd always been willing to tell him your mind without a care to whom you were speaking, even himself included at times. "You would know that I preferred you this way if you spoke to me yourself more often instead of sending your little spy."
Suddenly you understood the meaning of the phrase "devilish grin" in a new light.
"Do I detect jealousy, my dear?" he purred as he leaned down toward you again, his breath tickling the back of your ear and neck and his claws dug into your hip slightly. You tried to ignore the flare of heat within you, unwilling to admit it fully quite yet. "A flicker of envy, so very subtle but clear."
You huffed and rolled your eyes in response to his taunt, annoyed he could think of a rhyme so quickly and a charming one at that, and even more annoyed that it worked. Bards.
"Korilla does not enjoy the same…benefits you do," he continued when you offered nothing in response but the puff of air, a reticent hum vibrating in your chest as you raised the cool glass to your lips to take another drink. Your eyes met his in the mirror again as you realized how long they'd been focusing on his hands, allowing your gaze to stay connected as you continued to drink.
Of course, he was hardly one to leave a silence unfilled for long.
"And what of my own feelings?" he questioned, the twitch in his jaw accentuating the frustration behind his words that he was trying to tame. "So many people you meet these days and you haven't shared with a single one where you get your power…"
It was hard to focus on a conversation like this when his claws were now grazing lower down your thigh, red lines painting your skin the evidence the Cambion's claws had been there. In the mirror you could see how he lovingly soaked in the sight of each new mark - of each new claim of his territory. You'd have far more decorations from him by the time you returned to your own camp.
"What am I supposed to think other than you're ashamed of me?"
"No," the rejection of his insinuation came from your lips faster than any reply you'd given before by far, a fact that ticked his lips into a slight smile. Though the two of you teased anda taunted one another often, you were always well aware of the line before you stepped over it. "They wouldn't understand."
"They don't have to understand…they have to respect. Besides, it's not their soul to be bothered with, and you're hardly the only warlock in your little party."
"But they won't. With the Blade of Frontiers it is different…he had no choice, not really. I did - I could've chosen anything else…anyone else. And I chose you."
"Then you will make them."
You could hear the commanding tone he rarely needed to take with you begin to form in his words, a low grumble rumbling against your chest as he spoke. At this point you knew what little remained of his patience was so close to slipping away completely - but you still couldn't stop yourself from testing those tempestuous waters just a bit more.
After all, he needed you alive just as much as you needed him. Harm too serious coming your way was out of the question, and the proof you could take a bit of pain was in the stories that would be told about you and your adventures for years to come.
"It's just another contract to you. What difference does it make?"
The final impertinent word left your lips as his hand grabbed your chin, applying pressure and encouraging you to face him. He loomed over you in this form - a delicious fact - his skin noticeably hotter against yours as he leaned closer, trapping you between his body and the wall. Flames danced in his eyes, the raging inferno matching the temporary flare of anger he felt ignited in his chest. His grip on your face was resolute, thumb and forefinger grasping so hard your cheeks were squished together.
That would certainly keep you from further insult.
"I am so very fond of you, my impudent little mouse. Can you not see that is so?"
You'd been in many dangerous - increasingly so - situations recently, but the fact this one was one of the most was…invigorating. Invigorating in the same way as when he'd first approached you with a deal, in the way he'd complimented a job well done for the first time, in the way he was overjoyed when you returned from your kidnapping. In truth - because you were not foolish enough to deny what was a plainly writ fact - you were well aware you belonged to him in every aspect of the word. It was fun to test what boundaries a relationship like that presented.
Your heart was thudding against your chest harder and faster by the moment as he continued to regard you, fully aware you couldn't respond to his question through the hold he maintained on your face.
"I will not hear more of your ill-mannered mouth while I am being such a gracious host. You are far from 'just another' anything to me…"
There was a sincerity in his words that shattered any possibility of refute.
"…and I will not tolerate our attachment being hidden any longer."
A threat, or a promise? Both were equally exhilarating in their own way. With the expression on his face - furrowed brows, pinched nose, set jaw, and nostrils flaring with each breath - his feelings toward the situation were written plain on his face. He was done arguing - and you'd be foolish to push it.
"Perhaps I could have a collar fashioned for you that only I can remove."
His hand that still held your waist pulled you closer, a muscular tail winding around your lower legs to hold you against him. One of his legs slotted between your thighs as you pressed to him closer, hands clinging to his upper arms still. His face softened somewhat at the closeness, at the shaky breath that slipped past your lips as your eyes stayed oh-so focused on the way his curved into a wicked grin the more the thought blossomed in his mind.
"One that will burn you should you even try to remove it. Or perhaps better yet, a curse," as he spoke you found yourself drawn closer, entranced by the hardness in his pants that pressed to your waist now, chasing a kiss you weren't certain he'd give. "Or I could use hellfire to brand a symbol of my name beneath your eye - small enough not to ruin your beauty, large enough that everyone who sees you knows that you are mine."
He released his hold on your face only to drop his hand lower, lightly gripping your neck in a silent show of power. He regarded your expression carefully for any sign of distress and only grinned wider when he instead found observed your blown pupils and parted lips, his fingertips soaking in your accelerated pulse beneath them.
The fire in his tone sizzled for a moment, still lingering in each word but not quite as fearsome as even just a moment before. Sweet, almost - if you didn't know any better to see through the charm.
"Swear to me anew," he cooed, his thumb rubbing along the side of your neck as he spoke, eyes gazing at you with an expression that could only be described in adoration. The most temperamental volcano, fury subsided as fast as it'd come. When there was an offer to be presented, he could truly be oh-so-sweet. "An amendment to our existing contract. You are not to hide that we are joined together, or you will face consequences that will last forever."
Did it matter if you even truly had the option to refuse him when all you wanted to do was please him again? The proposition of more appreciation, the promise of his praise. That fact alone was enough to ensure your answer before you'd given it.
You nodded in understanding - specifics beyond what he'd stated weren't needed to convey the weight of his words.
"On one condition."
The bravery again - though your voice was more meek as you rightfully walked the fiery embers before you, navigating what you knew could still erupt again if you pressed too much harder again. To prove your point his eyebrow raised in annoyance, nose threatening to scrunch upward in frustration before you elaborated.
"We seal this contract with a kiss."
An expression that had almost been rage morphed into perplexity before a laugh burst from his chest, your mind lost in the sound and the view of his fangs, thoughts wandering somewhere fittingly sinful for your surroundings.
"And you talk about my theatrics."
Despite his taunting he brought you closer with his iron grip on your waist, the hand holding your neck still sliding up to your cheek as his thumb claw grazed along your bottom lip in passing. He looked at you like a child receiving a new toy, regarded you with an adoration often seen in temples.
And then, though there was still a subtle laugh shaking his chest, he held you reverently as he angled his head toward you. The rest of his expression as he approached would go unnoticed as your eyes slipped shut, holding your breath in anticipation…which he exploited for just a moment longer than was necessary before he finally gave you what you both wanted.
Your lips met like the strike of a match - the spark between flint and stone. It burned like frostbite and was over just as soon as it'd begun, taking your remaining breath with it.
It was a purr that rumbled in his chest as he ran his nose along your jaw that reminded you to breathe, his lips pressing a kiss over a pulse point on your neck pulling a gasp from your lungs as his hand slipped down the other side of your neck. Holding you like an artifact his fangs teased the skin on the spot for a moment as his grip on your waist tightened further, the tips of his claws threatening to break skin.
He withdrew before his composure melted, filling his chest with a deep breath to bring himself to full sense again.
"Come. I'm far from through with you, but you truly do need a bath."
It was…nice, which didn't quite seem wholly appropriate considering who he was and the fact the atmosphere had been threatening and tense only moments before. He sank into the tub first, motioning for you to join him by taking place between his legs. There was a voice in the back of your mind reminding you that all of this was because he wanted something - everything possible from you, and that he knew the best way to reach his goal was to manipulate.
The fact you were aware of it did little to stop you from enjoying it.
He made sure he ate and drank in a silence you didn't know he was capable of as his hands made work cleaning your body, a bath in the House of Hope proving to be a lavish experience as the water remained pristine and hot no matter how long it went on.
*(Though, it certainly could've just been the heat between your bodies sustaining the temperature).
It was the first time you'd truly relaxed since a tadpole had taken residence in your mind, the first moment of bliss in days. When his claws found your scalp and scratched against it lightly as he massaged soap into it he earned a thank you in the form of the sweetest moan that just couldn't be held back by your lips. You felt his cock twitch against your back at the sound, an appreciative hum rumbling in his chest.
"My, my…who knew you could sound so melodic, my dear," his tone was best described as a condescending coo, treasuring the way you melted in his hold and couldn't help yourself from being his to play with. "I want to hear much more of you."
One of his hands slipped from your head down to rest on your stomach as the other went even lower to the top of your thigh, pausing still to wait for your reaction. When you leaned your head back against his shoulder and closed your eyes he took his sign, chasing more of a reaction from you by running a single claw softly up your thigh toward your core. The small gasp that fell from your lips wasn't enough, his disapproval noted with a click of his tongue against his teeth. It was impossible to keep silent when one of his fingers connected to your clit, rubbing a swift circle quickly.
The cry that burst from your chest returned the smile to his face, a low laugh filling your ears again as he leaned forward to kiss your neck. Two of his fingers parted your folds as they slipped downward to your entrance, moans falling freely from your mouth you'd forgotten how to close. Taking advantage of the fact he leaned closer to claim your lips, reaching his free hand to hold the back of your head and ensure you couldn't pull away from him.
A dark possessiveness within him considered slipping his fingers into you to feel how your tight walls would grip him, though he knew it meant you would face the consequences of his claws. He could heal you, after all - but you'd always remember the feeling. He'd refrain on that particular thought…
For now.
Instead, he returned his attention to your clit, fingers circling the sensitive nub as his fingers tangled into your hair. He continued to kiss you past what your lungs could take, your eyes opening to attempt to gain his attention. His own eyes remained closed and he only held your head in a firmer grip - no doubt he knew though he couldn't see - and he continued that way until your vision was just starting to blur and your hole was clenching around nothing. Only then did he release you - releasing you fully by pulling his fingers away too - allowing you to take the breath you needed.
So close to the edge of release only to be pulled back away from it. It was a cruelty that made the first sound that left your lips when your breath returned to be a whimper.
"Please," you could barely get the shaking word through your lips, it could hardly be considered speaking when each letter was filled with a whine. "More."
"Now now, you will learn to take what I give you," he cooed, releasing his hold on your head to run the back of his fingers down the side of your face and neck, lightly pushing your head to the side to press a kiss beneath your ear. "With no questions asked. Won't you? You'll have to show me you can be patient."
You couldn't help the whimper that slipped past your lips again, your body singularly focused on its need for more. Your eyes are wide and desperate as you gazed at him, hands reaching to grasp at his thighs and squeeze. "'s not fair…"
Your ears were filled with his boisterous laugh again before he pressed a gentle kiss to your shoulder, allowing his lips to stay against your skin as he spoke.
"Perhaps not for you, but it's perfectly lovely for me," you realized as he spoke that he was having fun, a giddiness in every word that proved it. Unrehearsed, without anger, without practiced intentions. Him. "Finish up in here at your leisure, then join me in the boudoir."
With a snap of his fingers he was gone and the option to beg for more removed you were alone, left to wonder exactly what awaited you when you did join him. The kind of excitement that matched the feelings of fear and anxiety bubbled in your stomach, making your movements a little clumsy as you navigated your way through one last wash of your body.
The feelings remained as you removed yourself from the water, realizing immediately you'd been left with no towel or robe or clothes to utilize on your walk. Feeling a flare of preemptive embarrassment you found your way to the hall, doing your best to navigate quickly as you muttered to yourself.
You were distracted in your search that you didn't notice Haarlep had stalked up to you from the dark after you'd passed until their voice filled your ears. "My, my, aren't you just delicious," he purred, continuing to walk closer toward you when you froze in your tracks. They circled you like a predator circled prey, like a painter studying their subject - it was enough to make your face burn again. "I wouldn't mind slipping into your image for the occasional rendezvous."
"Haarlep."
Their name left your lips as a gasp and they stopped in front of you with a wicked smile, handsome and proud and no doubt every bit as convincing as their Master, if not more. "So you do know me. How flattering."
You were cornered against a wall with one of their forearms resting next to your head, the other grasping your hip in fingers much gentler than the ones they were mimicking. They leaned closer until your lips were brushing together feather light, the anticipation of a kiss lingering heavy in the air and sending your heart rate skyrocketing again.
"Oh, what fun we will have together…"
Their sinful tongue left their mouth to lick the seam of your lips until they fell open, the muscle slipping into your mouth to kiss you fully and hungrily. As you swallowed their spit you started to feel new levels need, the definition of the word insatiable finally grasped in your mind. One of their knees knocked apart your legs as their hand left your thigh, slipping to examine how wet you were and finding their digits slid through your folds with embarrassing ease.
"Mm…but that will be for another time," there was a sincerity in their words that made them so believable and you were certain they were correct about it. "Tonight, your job is to make him a bit more tolerable for the rest of us. Be a good pet and behave, won't you?"
As they sauntered away in a pace that existed to entice you to follow they threw one last wink over their shoulder, pointing you in the direction of where you were meant to go. In a haze you made your way to your destination, opening the doors to find your Patron sitting on the grand bed with glistening satin sheets, lounging back against the headboard with his arms outstretched, waiting for your arrival. He'd covered himself with an expensive robe, the one he'd deprived you of.
The red of its fine fabric matched his burning aura perfectly.
He observed your clumsy movements as you closed the doors with light amusement until the two of you were once again alone, his eyes appreciating your clean form as you walked to the foot of the bed. With a smile he raised a hand to motion you forward with one finger, his features fittingly illuminated by the hellfires that illuminated the room.
He was beautiful. Enticing. This very room could become an easy prison with no locked door if you allowed your resolve to slip.
"Come," he invited in a delicious tone, using one hand to untie his robe and allow it to fall open. He patted his thigh afterward to further elaborate on his instruction, one you were more than willing to follow. "Crawl to me…show me what an obedient, eager little pup you can be."
You did exactly as he told you to, enjoying the feeling of the soft sheets against your skin as you made your way to him. You climbed into his lap and straddled his waist between your thighs, core hovering over his hard and throbbing cock that you now wanted more than logic should reasonably allow. He felt how wet you were when your thighs made contact with his skin, breathing in deep to take in the scent of your arousal.
"My, my, how very eager you are," he spoke of you as if he was being presented with the meal of a lifetime. It made you feel desired in ways you weren't sure you'd be able to experience with anyone else for the remainder of your life. "I have to wonder, did my naughty toy find you along the way?"
You nodded, the only response you found yourself capable of, grinding down against his waist in a way that allowed his length to slip through your folds and spread your slick. His hands grasped your hips to follow your movements, chest vibrating against yours with a quiet purr as he appreciated your movements.
"Oh, of course they did…sometimes they just can't help it, the sinful thing…"
Both of his hands found their way to your thighs to grab them roughly, not making any effort to be mindful about his claws in places it wouldn't seriously hurt you - something that would become a pattern for the rest of your time together. Under his fingertips he could feel the welts that raised as a result of his scratching, smiling a charming smile as he took in your expression.
Finding you perfectly needy for him he reached one hand to grab your jaw and pull you closer, leaving his face hovering inches from yours. His skin was noticeably hotter against yours now, the undeniable evidence that he was just as effected by your closeness as you were his. His other hand gave your ass a swat to encourage you to raise up on your knees again, licking his lips when he could then reach toward your core and run his fingers through your folds again.
It was easier to feel the arousal he - and Haarlep, now - had earned when you weren't submerged in a tub. His fingers took the distance from your hole to your swollen clit painfully slow, matching the deep inhale he filled his lungs with along the way. Lost in how his hands felt against your body again you hardly noticed his tail wrap around one of your legs to hold you against him tighter, ensuring there was no chance of you climbing off before he'd had his fill.
It was hardly something he needed to do, but the implications of it made the experience all the better for him - and for you too.
"Don't forget to speak to me, my dear," he cooed, no annoyance present in his voice though he was hardly happy he had to remind you as he exercised a bit of patience at your current state. "I simply adore hearing the desperation in your words."
"Please, I need…"
Though he'd requested them your words were cut off as he pulled you against him rougher, pressing his throbbing length up into her core as he does. Your sentence quickly turned into a moan, your hands grabbing at his shoulders so you could cling to him in every sense of the word.
"Do go on."
You hated that his taunting tone sent a shiver down your spine and a hot wave of arousal straight to your core. Your desperation flooded every word that came from your mouth. "I need more," you were begging without having to be asked for it, something he would thank you for at a later time. "Something…a-anything you'll give me."
"Anything I'll give you?"
Was that particular choice of words a mistake? You found you couldn't come to a rational answer as you became lost in the embers of his eyes. You nodded, grinding against him to further your consent and ensure the point was driven home - you wanted him in whatever capacity he'd provide, in any way that would earn you more of his favor.
You hadn't realized your lip was quivering and your eyes were slightly watering out of the desperation but he had, soaking in the sight of you so wanton and lustful for him. It was his favorite look on you by far, and he couldn't resist the opportunity to see how truly indecent he could make you behave.
And all for him.
"Then prove to me you deserve it. Prove to me you're worth the effort from me and then I will prove to you that you are mine."
You only leaned closer to entice him the rest of the distance between you. You reached between your bodies with one hand to grasp his cock and rub it through your folds again, lining it up with your entrance and teasing down onto the tip slightly to test what he'd allow. He raised an eyebrow and opened his mouth to express a thought that disappeared as you began to sink onto him, maintaining the eye contact you knew he loved as you moaned out his name quietly. He forgave you when your eyes fluttered closed to focus on taking his length and girth, your forehead falling down against his shoulder as a heavy breath fell from your lips.
"That's it," he was quick to compliment your efforts to ensure you knew how much he appreciated it, hoping the praise would keep you from giving up. "You can take me. Do not get discouraged…"
Your head nodded as another steady breath left your chest, shifting your hips to find the right angle to take him in. Though his words were honied you knew he was hardly the patient type and to avoid a temper change you pushed yourself onto as much of his length as you could take, finally earning a groan from him that was worth the quick shot of pain that being stretched like this brought. One of his arms reached to wrap around your waist and his other hand found the back of your head, cradling you against his form. His wings soon joined, wrapping both of you in privacy and what felt like the ultimate safety.
Within his wings it would be impossible for anyone who entered to see how well you began to ride him after a long adjustment period, how after several minutes of grinding and shifting and allowing him to pump into you you began to take him perfectly. Though he maintained his hold on your head your lips were finding their way to any place they could reach on his neck, chest, and jaw, eagerly nibbling and licking and sucking - testing if you could mark him like he'd undoubtedly mark you.
He decided you were testing him when you bit into him hard, his surprise announced by a grunt and a squeeze from his hand holding your hip. He gave your hair a tug to pull you upward into a hungry kiss, your moans joining together in the room as your hands grabbed his horns to hold him against you.
This is how he wanted you for him forever.
As your tongues danced your movements slowed, his hands meeting on your upper back to press your chest closer to his. Allowing you a partial breath he pulled away from the kiss to watch your face twist in pleasure as his claws dragged slowly down your back, pressing harder the lower they reached as he experimented with what you'd allow. You were eager to prove exactly what he'd requested - you could take what he would give.
His own head dropped to claim one of your breasts in his mouth, his tongue circling your nipple and flicking the nub several times before he changed his efforts to suck hard enough to bruise, glad he could stay here without a real breath for longer than what you may have previously experienced. He only pulled away to bite a mark into the soft flesh that immediately spilled some blood - as you continued to ride him exactly how you liked you either didn't notice or you didn't mind, either of which were fine by him.
"Very good," he purred, remembering how well you normally responded to his praise. He was thanked by a quiet moan and your walls tightening, fluttering around his length as he struck just the right cord in you. "Should I allow you release before I have my way with you?"
You were nodding before his sentence was fully complete and begging incoherently as your face buried into his neck again, continuing to lavish the skin with kisses. Your thighs began to shake at the mere thought of release, at how it would feel to gush around his length and how he would moan feeling you constrict him.
Whatever words he chose to give you permission were not fully understood, only their intent mattered. Though he wanted to pump into you at his own pace he allowed you to find release in this position yourself, happy it didn't take much longer for your walls to clamp around him and your head to throw back in ecstasy, your screams undoubtedly filling every wall in the house despite the closed door.
He held you down on his length as you spasmed through the high, enjoying the feeling of your body against his and focusing on how you felt held in his arms. He was always going to take what he wanted from you after you'd found this release but the longer he soaked in how small you were against his frame the more his own carnal desire began to take over his thoughts, a feral need building that wouldn't be long ignored.
"You have hold of me like an addiction," he breathed out heavy, shifting his hips beneath you - earning a whimper - wondering how much you'd truly be able to take. "So…unh…tight…"
Before you had fully returned to your senses he was pushing you onto your back, staying inside you with little effort and pinning you down with one hand on your stomach. His other hand rested at the base of your throat with his forearm beside your head, and just as your mind began to fathom how dangerous the position you were in was he kissed you slowly, silencing reason once again.
You could feel how sensitive you were as he pumped his length into you a few times - slowly to test your reaction. He pulled away from the kiss to examine your face, finding it filled with pleasure and overstimulation - traces of pain were there but you gave no indication he needed to stop.
"Do you think you can take what I will give you?"
His lips moved against yours sensually as he spoke, and you opened your mouth to answer for only a sob to be released. Instead you just nodded, hoping it would be enough in the circumstances and looking into his eyes with a pleading expression. He pressed a kiss to your bottom lip and pushed every inch you could take into you roughly, earning another sob that was muffled as he bit into your bottom lip enough to cause it to swell. He pulled away from the action with a wicked grin and savored your expression for a moment longer before this position came to an end.
He pulled out of you slowly, moving to stand next to the bed. In your haze you listened to him give you instructions to get on your knees and elbows, instructions you followed hastily on shaky limbs as he stroked his length watching you obey. When you were finally presenting yourself to him exactly how he wanted he mounted behind you, still grasping his length in one hand as his other reached forward to circle your dripping hole with two fingers.
"Precious. I will try not to break you."
His fingers were gone and replaced with his cock swiftly, his restraint gone as he thrusted in as far as he could, still trying to press further when he reached the end and smiling when the most beautiful cry filled the room from you. He groaned out deep as his hand found your stomach, pressing against it to hold you upward, reaching his other hand to slip the fingers that were coated in your slick into your mouth.
"So small beneath me," he breathed out, leaning forward to press a kiss over one of the red welts he'd created on your back. He engulfed you in this position, you were at his complete mercy - all hope of being anything but his ever again gone. He would never give you up. "On your knees for me. Just where you should be."
He forgot to be somewhat gentle with you as he thrust into you at a feral pace - or perhaps he just didn't care how little you were able to move when he was through. He continued to kiss your neck, shoulders, and back in any place he could reach, his teeth marking your skin anywhere he could manage. His claws were just as helpful in regard to marking you, reaching to scratch at your thighs and back - until he focused his hand's attention on your ass, spanking and scratching and grabbing roughly as proved to give him additional leverage as he pounded into you.
He was already obsessed with the way you took him with moans and cries while ensuring you stayed in the position he'd molded you into, eyes transfixed on how your tight hole took his length. When this whole Absolute ordeal was taken care of at your hands, he'd happily take this sight every day.
"Look at you just taking me," his voice was shaking now, matching your legs once again. His hand left your stomach to squeeze your throat, accentuating the fact that you were truly just taking whatever he would give. "And you do it so well, you sweet thing."
Content with how marked you were for him his hands instead grasped your waist in the gentlest grasp he'd offered yet, not quite matching the ferocity at which he pounded into you. Through blurred vision you were half aware of the familiar figure that slipped into the room through the shadows, the incubus unable to keep away witnessing what was filling the House with the irresistible sounds of flesh smacking against flesh.
You didn't know if Raphael noticed - you didn't care. You doubted a complaint would be heard if you offered one, and they would leave after you'd reached your release and they'd heard your euphoria anyway.
(Though you did momentarily hope that sinful tongue they'd offered earlier could be put to a better use, though you knew your body would be spent by then).
"Give me another," he ordered, feeling how your body was tensing up again at the threat of release, eager to feel you snap again. "And I want to hear it…"
He reached to rub your clit again at a speed that matched his thrusts, eager to feel how tight you'd squeeze him when you came undone, already intoxicated by the way your velvet walls were fluttering around his length. He was taking what he wanted from your body at a roughness that would no doubt leave bruises for you to feel on the road to Baldur's Gate - he certainly wouldn't heal marks that were a gift from him covering your back and neck and causing you to walk with a limp that so clearly displayed you had coupled with him.
He let you fall to the bed fully, only finding he was able to pound into you harder as you laid flat on your stomach. Unwilling to have you pass out he grabbed your hair on the back of your head and pulled hard enough to force it back so you could continue to breathe, leaning his torso over yours until he could twist your head and claim your lips in a rough kiss. He was hungry - feral - fully lost in himself as he chased his own pleasure, releasing all inhibition as he found his release. The only warning it was coming was the sloppiness that overtook his thrusts as the end neared, a growl rumbling in his chest as he pulled away from your lips to instead bite into your shoulder.
His seed was molten as it filled you, overflowing past his length. As his release filled your womb his teeth broke your skin and he tasted your blood as he was lost in his pleasure. He'd crave its flavor that was entirely you just as often as he'd crave claiming your womb now, knowing the mark would show you were his.
He continued to pump into you slowly several more times, holding you still as you squirmed and whimpered from the overstimulation, hearing the shake in your breaths and sweet sounds that proved to him you were crying. When he decided to pull out completely his chest shook with a quiet, dark laugh, finding a comfortable position straddling over your ass. His hands were loving in the way a curator's were with art, running over your scratched and bitten back adoringly for several moments, fingertips tracing the marks that would last the longest. He leaned down to press a kiss to a particularly possessive bite mark before removing his weight from you, rolling you to your side to to check that you were still capable of coherency.
You blinked up at him with glassy eyes, tear-stained cheeks proving he had been right about your tears. He leaned to press a single gentle kiss to your forehead as he pulled the blanket over your weak body. Selfish of a creature as he was, he was still capable of some semblance of aftercare - though that was it, it was enough from someone like him to someone like you.
"Well done, my dear. A wonderful demonstration of your devotion to me."
This praise - this tone. The very reason you'd do anything he asked, become anything he needed you to become. Anything he asked of you in a moment like this you'd provide. Part of you wondered how long it would take for him to exploit that fact.
"Next time you've behaved for me I will have Haarlep join us. They can lick my seed clean from you as I watch how you look beneath me."
(You'd think more on that particular promise later, when your mind was capable of wrapping around anything other than Raphael's finger again).
His new tone was undeniable and impossible to ignore, the reverence steeping every syllable enough to drown in them. Appreciation, worship. It was difficult to decide if being beneath him or hearing this newfound depth of praise was more fulfilling. You nuzzled closer to him still just barely conscious, physically submitting to the exhaustion that overtook every inch of yourself.
You nodded your head lazily in agreement before burrowing your face in his neck, enjoying the familiar scent of cherries, musk and sulphur that had come to mean power and protection to you. If you were lucky those sinful notes would linger in your senses in the coming day.
Though he was far from one to cuddle, he wasn't one to complain when presented with any show of mutual adoration from you, and he allowed his tail to drape across your legs in a subtle concession to your own desires.
Beyond that, he was still, but he was content.
"Rest," you were intoxicated with this voice, one you couldn't help but wonder how few beings had heard it, one free of any performance - honest, soft. "You will need it before you continue your journey. When you wake you'll be in camp with your cohorts, and when you reach the city again you will return to me."
In your last moments of consciousness, you remained his eager little pup.
masterlist. baldur's gate III masterlist.
#raphael bg3#raphael baldur's gate 3#raphael x tav#raphael x reader#haarlep x tav#haarlep x reader#raphael smut#bg3 smut#raphael fanfic
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Hello, I absolutely love your work. iv re read your stuff so many times that it's getting concerning.
Can I request the cullens x artist reader who made a painting of them I just think that would be cute
The Cullens with an Artist! Reader
Thank you?!?! I suggest seeking mental help for rereading my bad stories tho
Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy!
Edward:
We all know that he is an artist too
He made Bella a whole song on the piano
As someone who can play the piano, that’s not easy
So he definitely loves that you’re also artistic
For you, he’s a muse
I mean, how could he not be
Literally the definition of perfect
So obvs you sketch him a lot
When he finds an almost finished painting one day of him, he is floored
He can never seem to wrap his mind around the fact that you are just as obsessed with him as he is with you
He hangs it up
Even if it’s not finished
If you insist on finishing it, he will begrudgingly take it down and give it back
But as soon as it’s done it’s all his
Alice:
She’s also an artist
But more with fashion
And design
She’s not so well-versed with the classical arts like painting or sketching
So she always loves seeing your paintings
She’s a coexistence girly
She loves to just be doing something while you’re painting
You know just sort of existing in the same space at the same time
The day you give her the painting, she is so surprised
It was so difficult for you to hide this from her
Especially with her gift
She absolutely loves it
She hangs it in the main room of the Cullen house
She wants absolutely everyone to see it and acknowledge how talented her s/o is
Jasper:
He loves the arts
They’re relaxing to him
Some of his favorite classes he’s ever taken in all of the schools they’ve been at have been art classes
He’s not good by any means, but he loves it anyway
Art dates with him are a must
He would love that tiktok trend where you and your partner trade paintings every couple of minutes
Never misses an opportunity to tell you that he loves your work
He honestly almost started crying when you showed him your painting of him
You made him look so happy, so peaceful
He’s used to being perceived as a monster
Definitely hangs it up
But only in his room
He wants to be the only one to see it
Rosalie:
She’s more of a technical, sciencey person
Not to say she doesn’t like art
Just that she doesn’t necessarily enjoy making it
She can definitely appreciate good work tho
And she loves everything you make
She buys you new supplies all of the time
If just one pen ran out of ink in your favorite set, she would buy you a whole new set
When you give her that first painting though, she’s obsessed
She wants at least 20 more by tomorrow
But actually, she knows that she’s beautiful
But something about the way you capture her is just so different she loves it
Emmett:
He’s not an art person either
He’s a bit of a meathead
But he can appreciate art
Probably not as deeply as other people can
But he know when it looks good
And he genuinely thinks you’re the best artist ever
He will gladly put all of your little doodles in the clear pockets of his binders
And hang them on his locker
When you give him the painting of him he’s actually dumbfounded
Like awestruck
What do you mean the best artist in the world just made a painting of him?
Get ready to be cuddled for the rest of the night
Esme:
Resident artist
We already knew that tho
I’m pretty sure it’s said that she’s the one who made the grad cap piece?
Idk
Either way she loves art
Pottery dates, painting picnics, date nights at the art museum
She loves it
So if you were to ever paint her and give it to her?
Yeah she’s gonna start crying
She just loves art, she loves you, and you put them together and she’s so in love
She hangs it in the main room
It doesn’t matter if the colors clash
And it’s never coming down
Carlisle:
Another appreciater of the arts
I mean, he probably knew Da Vinci on a personal level this guy is so old
So it’s no shock
Whenever he’s home and hanging out with you, he loves to watch you paint or draw
Especially if he’s doing some paperwork
I just feel like he would like the company while he’s working
Now I don’t see Carlisle as the type of guy to necessarily enjoy pictures or paintings of himself
The only portraits he has in his office are either him in a crowd or family photos
So when you give him a portrait of himself, he’s a little shocked at first
He doesn’t want to seem narcissistic, but damn you made him look good
He hangs it up in your shared bedroom
Even though he knows he will likely never have guests who would see it, he wants to make sure it’s hidden
He just doesn’t want people to think he’s vain
But he secretly loves it so much
Vampire! Bella:
I think I’ve talked about it before but this girl would have loved deviantart
Rip Bella you would have loved fan art of your favorite characters
But she totally had an artsy phase
I don’t think she’s necessarily good or bad
She just prefers to look at art rather than make it
So that’s where you come in
She loves just watching you work
Every once in a while she paints with you
But she always feels inferior when she looks at what you made vs what she made
So she usually just sticks to admiring
The first time you give her a portrait of herself, she doesn’t even know what to do
She’s still getting used to actually perceiving herself as beautiful
And then you capture her like she’s a goddess?
She needs to lie down
She loves it tho
#alice cullen#bella swan#carlisle cullen#esme cullen#edward cullen#emmett cullen#jasper cullen#jasper hale#rosalie cullen#rosalie hale#alice cullen x reader#bella swan x reader#carlisle cullen x reader#esme cullen x reader#emmett cullen x reader#edward cullen x reader#jasper cullen x reader#jasper hale x reader#rosalie cullen x reader#rosalie hale x reader
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There's a sense of familiarity in the way the stranger smiles, something Morior mentally likens to someone greeting an old dear friend they have not seen in eons and it makes his own expression soften a touch. Perhaps he'd considered them truly gone given how they hide, glamoured in the world of Humans or naught but ghost stories in their own woods - all but tales for men to tell eachother and scare their children to behave lest they be spirited away. A double-edged sword, clearly, given that the very same protection could be keeping those like Emmanuel oblivious to their presences. A good-natured laugh rumbles in his chest at the small quip about his greeting, he's thankful it hasn't been taken as an insult at the very least. Although he is a little caught off-guard by the praise for his work and there's a falter there in his expression as he does so, barely perceptible but present nonetheless. A lot of awful things had to happen for this to be the place of peace it is now, certainly not anything worthy of honoring. It's duty, he has the ability to protect them and he shall - as the Fae were the only ones to welcome him as he is. Not one of them, not truly, but familiar enough to live among their kind. There are but tales to explain his existence - a god, a monster, merely a particularly powerful Fae, even death himself. He himself knows not which is true and has long since abandoned trying to seek out answers. -- ❝There is no need for that at all. All those that may not be welcome or understood by Humanity are welcome here. Yourself included. I merely keep watch these days, it takes little to scare off a stray Human poking their nose in where they shouldn't.❞ Though despite his words, there's no hiding the way his body stills in surprise at the answer he receives to his inquiries. An angel? In his long existence he has never met such a being and that is a novelty in itself, even more so when considering the implications of his existence. It's a turbulent thing, realising some 'higher power' may have presided over all the events he has witnessed in his long life. For a moment he's silent, gaze fixed on Emmanuel like he's shot him before he catches himself. It is not this Angel's doing, he cannot blame him. His jaw tenses as though working around his words before he speaks, his smile a little tighter. He can't afford to let his emotions get the best of him. -- ❝Apologies for my reaction, Emmanuel. I hadn't realised such a thing could exist, it's quite the surprise that in all my years I'm still faced with something entirely unfamiliar. It has been a while. That doesn't make my actions acceptable, however. Please forgive me.❞ Despite the luring warmth, it's discomforting and he feels guilt for such a reaction. Afterall, has he not had the same reaction from others? -- ❝Come, I will show you to where the festivities shall be taking place. I'm sure many of the circle would indeed appreciate your kindness and warmth, if you are intending on staying for the night, that is.❞
Oh. Fae. He lets go of the other’s hand, yet still allows himself to recall the touch. There is something precious in it. Fae. His smile blossoms wider at the thought; for it’s been quite a while since he was in their company – a part of him had at times worried they’d gone from Earth entirely, leaving place for merely the stories. But perhaps, as ever, he’d allowed himself to blend with the humans too closely, and disregard that which the earth itself hummed below everything. He’s embarrassed now, if only ever so slightly, for ever giving ear to even the consideration that this land could be anything but a sanctuary of life. Aren’t all forests, no matter if they bow to a devil or a god? If anything, this moment is but another reminder that he too does need the exercise in humility once in a while, and the way he looks down, bows his head, the way his cheeks burn, they all show he has been humbled quite enough.
„It is a true and welcome pleasure to be so wrong, my friend,“ he speaks and his voice barely seems to cut through the air, as if his lips themselves were learning to take the environment in, in its truth. „No wonder you’ve come to greet me,“ the way his eyes glint it is clear enough that he is well aware greeting may have not been the other’s intention at the start, „– you do well, for those seeking shelter here, I can tell. Thank you. For… that and for believing me worthy, for allowing me this passage, Morior.“ There is effortless honor to the way he speaks the name. No pedestals, no expectations, no reputation. A living entity acknowledging the liveliness of another.
Deep brown eyes, kind and old, do travel from the other and over the trees, from their tips reaching for the sky to the striped horizon they make of the world. „Most call me Emmanuel,“ he says and the tinge of amusement suggests that the name, as potent as it is, hardly feels like it really contains the universal truth of himself. Perhaps there is pride to it, and pride is a sin – but of all angels, his name feels like an open palm more than anything. A gesture, nothing more. A gesture that can be performed, voicelessly.
He hesitates to speak quite so bluntly, but he decides that his host deserves honesty since he made it a point to ask. „All is but glamour when ones not of this world wish to walk it, one way or another. – I am an angel of the Lord, an extended hand of the divine, though – currently I mostly make my own way, doing good. Trying to bring some light and tenderness to those that may have been forgotten or – fell on some low times. Perhaps some of that could be appreciated, even in your circle. Humans are not the only creatures of this world, after all.“
#Seeking Peace || Morior Verse#handgiven#Divine || Thread#I love this so much honestly and welcome Emmanuel to visit WHENEVER#also the fact he has Mori actually a little rattled is -chefs kiss- because very little does these days#I just love the outrage that a god would do nothing - given some think much the same of him not just wiping out humans for the fae#Also I'm SO sorry for length but oh boy I didn't think about the implications of god existing before I started writing#and words just kept happening lmfao#absolutely no need to match it#long post cw
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the darkest hour never comes in the night [Logan/Reader]
Summary: Part 4 of my Home 'verse. Logan gets back after a clean up job with the X-Men to discover that you're missing. He's ready to track down whoever dared to lay a finger on you, but first he's going to have to seek an old mentor for help if he wants to find you. // Once you realize you're trapped in a nightmare of Sinister's making, you have to find a way to free yourself of the illusion. Even if you do manage to escape, will you ever be free of Sinister or will the effects of his experiment linger? Word Count: 15.6k Author's Notes: This chapter may contain: Surprise cameos!, angst, rescue missions, protective Logan, an omega level mutant or two, a smidge of foreshadowing, found family dynamics, reader being a badass, and Logan's POV!
When I'm With You I'm Home 'verse
Read on AO3
Logan had never been the type to believe a good thing would last.
Even when he felt on top of the world, he knew that sooner or later he would stumble right off and fall back to where he belonged at the bottom.
After losing his wife and the X-Men, he knew that there was never going to be a different ending to his story. He lost himself in bottle after bottle, searching for every escape he could get if it meant he wouldn't have to think about everything that had gone spectacularly wrong since the moment he walked away from his family.
If he could take it all back, then he would. But he couldn't, so he was forced to move on.
Loathe as he was to admit it, Wade had saved him from himself. He had been quick to hate him, all the good things had long been burned out of him, but Wade had changed that by being a special brand of hopeful and moronic. He had pushed and pulled and persisted when Logan wanted nothing more than for him to shut the hell up. He had forced Logan to be a hero again even when he felt like his own worst enemy.
When he was convinced that his universe was a lost cause because of Wade's deception, he could feel himself start to slip again. He took out all of his anger and resentment on Wade, loving that Wade could give as good as he got, because he wanted to feel the pain he was doling out. Loss and rage had blinded him once again and he felt hope slip away from him with each time he stabbed and tore and ripped into Wade.
But then a miracle happened. He woke up in that shithole they called the Void and found his missing piece. Y/N wasn't his wife, and despite what he knew she feared, he never compared the two of them. They had different sighs, laughs, smiles, moans, and turn-ons. Any thought of them being the same person was swept away in the Void when he kissed Y/N. She didn’t feel like his wife and ultimately, that was what he needed to move on.
Y/N had never been a replacement for him. She was something entirely unique and while he had fallen hard and fast, the initial attraction based on familiarity soon strengthened into the absolute love they shared.
He was so terrified all the time that he would lose her too. When they were in Y/N's first universe, he had wanted nothing more than to rip the other Logan apart. The other Logan looked at her like he thought she was still wrapped around his finger, at his beck and call for whatever he wanted to take from her. But Logan had made sure he got the message that Y/N was no longer his to string along. She had moved on, and while Logan would never think he was in any way better, he knew that he would never treat her like that.
He would never leave her for anyone else. Not only because he knew it would absolutely destroy her to lose him twice, but because he would rather let Wade unload a whole clip of adamantium bullets into his brain before he lost her.
It was the thought of returning home to Y/N and Laura and whatever surprise dinner was awaiting him there that got him through the rest of the mission with Wade. They had agreed to help the X-Men clean up after someone had blown up a bank. No one died, but a lot of people had been injured. It was only one in a series of attacks that had plagued the city, and no one knew who was responsible.
If Logan's previous experience told him anything, it was that whoever it was would crawl out of the woodwork sooner or later. Bad guys loved two things. Taking credit for their shitty behavior and boasting about it to anyone who would listen. He just hoped when the person was caught, he was front and center, ready to put an end to them once and for all.
"So," Wade started as he kicked at a piece of rubble. "Who do you think this shit stain is?"
"No clue," Logan answered, shrugging his shoulders. "We done here or what?"
"Yeah," Wade sighed, waving at Colossus before he started walking away. "Let's get the hell out of here. I'm hungry enough to take a bite out of Piotr's big, juicy metal ass and last time I tried that I nearly lost a tooth," he lamented with a sigh. "What do you think Y/N's making us for dinner?"
"Us?" Logan wondered, quirking an eyebrow at him.
"Well, yeah," Wade said, clapping a hand to Logan's back and ignoring his growl of annoyance. "You might be ready to kick me out like last night's one night stand, but Y/N happens to love me."
"Oh, really?" Logan huffed out an annoyed breath. "She tell you that?"
"As a matter of fact, she did. She told me we had to keep it on the down low, though, because she's just using you for your looks. I guess I can't give her everything."
Logan rolled his eyes, knowing it was useless to try to get Wade to stop being such an idiot. It was just who he was.
When Logan got back to the apartment, he expected to find Y/N and Laura waiting for them. Y/N had been eager about whatever dinner she had planned, and he was excited to share it with his favorite people and Wade.
Except, when he unlocked the front door, it was to Laura pacing the floor and smoke rising from the stove. He hurried to grab the pan and shove it under the faucet while Wade turned off the stove.
"What the hell happened?" He asked, turning to see that Laura was now standing at the window, intently watching the sidewalk down below.
"Y/N's going to be upset," Laura confessed, not bothering to tear her attention away from where it was directed out the window. "She said ten minutes, but it's been longer than that, and it burned anyway. Now her dinner is ruined, but she's not here. She was supposed to be here."
Logan had never heard Laura say so much all in one go and he knew it was only because she was genuinely worried. Concern was beginning to take hold of the confusion he was feeling, and he didn't know what to do with it without the answers he needed.
"Where did she go?" Logan asked as he started walking towards Laura. “Where’s Y/N?”
Laura finally turned to look at him. "The market on the corner. I--" Laura cut herself off with a scowl before she shook her head. Logan could hear sirens down below and he wondered if someone had reported the smell of smoke in the apartment. "I heard a noise. A boom," Laura clarified. "I was waiting for her to come home, but she hasn't, and now I'm worried that was her. I should have gone to find out what it was, but I just kept waiting for her to come back. I'm sorry."
"Fuck," Logan growled before he was out the door, not even bothering to wait for Wade or Laura to follow him. He could hear their footsteps behind him, but he wasn't willing to slow down. He was downstairs and rushing towards the corner store, a million different worries flooding his mind the closer he got.
He drew to a stop once he got to the store. The windows had been blown out and glass littered the sidewalk. Logan cautiously walked forward, peeking inside the store to see if Y/N was there, but she wasn't. He could smell her, though, which prompted him to walk inside, ignoring an officer yelling at him that it was a crime scene.
Logan allowed himself the time to take a close look at the damage. He could hear Wade distracting the officers outside and Laura was hovering in the broken doorway, unsure of her welcome.
Half the shelves had been destroyed and most of the store's stock was on the floor, knocked down by whatever had caused the explosion. The glass doors of the refrigerated cases had been cracked and the smell of smoke was threatening to drive him out of the store, it was so strong.
He couldn’t smell Y/N in here. Not with the smoke and all the other scents still lingering. He was trying to keep calm, but it was hard not to run off, chasing the smell of her.
What the hell happened to her?
Something on the floor caught his eye and he crouched down to look at it. He picked it up, turning it over in his hand. It was her keys. He had a brief, inane thought that if her keys were here, then how was she going to get back into the apartment? How would she come home? Would she come home?
The thought had him clenching the keys so tight in his fist that they cut into his skin.
"Logan," Laura called, gaining his attention. She sounded terrified and that had him immediately turning towards her.
She was crouched on the floor, studying something he couldn't make out at first. When he got closer, he realized that she was staring down at blood that had spilled on the ground. He joined Laura before he reached out, gently touching the blood and letting it stain his skin.
"Do you think it's hers?" Laura asked, her voice small and wary.
Logan hated hearing her like that, because even when she was facing Cassandra's goons and Alioth, Laura hadn't been scared. Hearing Laura like that only let Logan know that this was real. Y/N was hurt and she was missing and she might never return.
Logan stood, fury and horror making his heart pound so hard he could barely hear anything over the rush of blood.
He left Laura behind, needing to get out of the store. He was torn between panicking and fighting and he didn't know which way to turn to get Y/N back.
All he wanted was to get her back.
Wade was still being a distraction and Laura was still in the store and Logan had no one there at his side to tell him it was going to be okay.
He noticed a man sitting in the back of an ambulance. He was wrapped in a blanket and talking to one of the EMTs. Logan hurried over to them, shouldering the EMT out of the way to talk to the man.
"Do you work here? Did you see what happened?"
"Hey, he's suffered a--"
"Shut the hell up, bub," Logan snapped over his shoulder at the EMT. "Was there a lady here? Did she get hurt?" He directed at the guy in the ambulance.
The guy nodded his head, looking terrified as he stared up at Logan.
"Hey, tall, dark, and gloomy, give the guy some space," Wade prompted, finally joining him. "What's got you being an angry bear all of a sudden?"
"The lady," the guy started, still keeping eye contact with Logan, visibly frightened by him. Logan had no idea what he looked like at the moment, but he was about ready to snap Wade's neck if it meant getting some answers out of the guy. "She, uh, she came in looking for something. And then there was an explosion. And then--"
When the guy stopped talking, Wade stepped forward, reaching out a hand to fully push the EMT away. Logan noticed the guy roll his eyes before stomping away in the direction of the police officers investigating the scene.
"Alright, what happened after that? Now's not the time to be skimping on the details, friendo. Not unless you want me to give you some incentive to participate in share time here," Wade said, pulling one of his katanas free from where he still had it holstered to his back.
"Okay, okay," the guy scrambled to stand, looking like he wanted to put some distance between him and Wade, but he had nowhere to go. He held his hands out, silently pleading for mercy. "Then this guy came in and he was weird. He had glowing eyes and he was carrying a pack of cards with him and he had this accent I'd never heard before. He seemed to know the lady, because he picked her up and carried her right out of here."
"Was he about this tall?" Wade asked, demonstrating with his hand a height that was a little taller than him. "Roguishly good looks and like he could make love to you all night long with incredible physical stamina? Did he sound like an extra on True Blood they don't want to give many speaking parts to?"
"Will you shut up and let the guy talk," Logan snapped, half-tempted to stick his claws in Wade's face if it would give him just a moment to figure out what was going on.
"I guess," the guy answered, nodding his head at Wade. "I don't know how, but I think he caused the explosion. I think he was looking for that lady. I think she’s why he was there."
"Come on," Laura said, appearing at his side. "We're about to have company."
Logan glanced over to see three officers approaching. "Let's get the hell out of here," he muttered, not wanting to deal with whatever questions they might have.
"So," Wade started, keeping at Logan's side as he walked away. "Either an old friend took Y/N or there's another close-up magician running around with the same tricks."
"You're suggesting it was Gambit? They were friends in the Void. What would he want with her? Why would he hurt her?"
"It's not the same Gambit," Laura supplied, shaking her head. "Our Remy adored Y/N. He never would have done that to her. It must be the Gambit from this universe."
"Then we find this Gambit and we get him to tell us where she is," Logan suggested, barely keeping his anger in check. He wanted to find Gambit and rip his throat out, but that wouldn't help him find Y/N. Once everything was said and done, he would find a way to deal with Gambit.
"I have a better plan," Wade chimed in, finally holstering his katana again.
"You're a fucking idiot," Logan snapped, barely sparing Wade a glance. "There's no way in hell you're going to call the shots right now. Not when Y/N is missing and hurt." His voice strained on the last word, and he noticed Laura shoot him a concerned look.
"I might not have a great track record when it comes to teams. Got kicked off the X-Men, got most of X-Force killed, poor Johnny God rest his soul and his truly impressive vocabulary, but I've done alright for you so far, haven't I? You're still here," Wade pointed out, reaching out to grab Logan's arm and wave it around as if he needed proof. "And so's the little munchkin," Wade continued with a glance at Laura. "And I'm telling you that I have a plan to get Y/N back."
Wade still hadn't let go of him and Logan couldn't resist the urge to drive his claws into his ribcage. "An educated wish isn't going to cut it this time," he snarled before he ripped his claws out, not caring when Wade wheezed out a 'son of a bitch' before hunching over and clutching at his side. Logan was ready to let his anger carry him through the rough emotions he wasn't ready to process. Y/N wouldn't like him turning on Wade, but using the regenerative asshole as a punching bag was safer than taking it out on anyone else. It wasn't like she was there to stop him.
"This time?" Wade asked with an incredulous laugh, cursing under his breath when he managed to straighten up. "If I remember right, the last time I made one we spent the whole night stabbing each other. That's not going to get Y/N back, so let's not waste our time."
"This is real," Logan hissed, getting in Wade's space and pushing him back until he stumbled and fell to the ground. Logan only loomed over him, itching to put his claws somewhere that would only cause Wade more pain. "And if she dies because your fucking plan doesn't work, then I'm going to tear your spine out and bash your face in with it."
"Oh, hold on there, angry bear," Wade was quick to reply, bouncing to his feet and putting a few steps of distance between them when he noticed Logan bring his hand up. "Y/N is my friend. I care about her just as much as you do. Don't you fucking turn on me when I'm just as invested in finding her."
"No, you don't fucking care about her as much as I do. You don't know--," Logan abruptly cut himself off, the hitch of breath in his chest painful. He felt like he was struggling to grab onto anything that would keep him from falling and Y/N wasn’t going to be there to reach out and help him up. He wanted her with him so badly in that moment that he could hardly breathe past the longing and fear. Where was she? What the hell was happening to her? Why the fuck would Gambit take her? Why would he hurt her? What if he never saw her again because he was off playing hero while he should have been home with her? If he got her back, she was never leaving his side again. He would go where she went. He would kill anyone who even so much as tried to lay a hand on her.
"Logan," Laura interrupted his thoughts, placing a gentle hand on his arm. "Just hear him out. If it's a stupid plan, we'll do something else. But for now, it’s all we’ve got."
Logan clenched his jaw, fighting the words he wanted to say. Instead, he gifted Wade with a reluctant nod of his head. "What's your plan, then?”
"Look," Wade started, moving to stand in front of Logan to halt his steps. "I may be an idiot, you're right, but if there's anything I know about the X-Men, it's that there's someone out there who can track down mutants using a super handy dandy mutant-finding machine," Wade pointed out, holding up two fingers to his temple, imitating Charles when he was using his abilities.
"Cerebro," Logan surmised with an incredulous laugh. "You want to ask Charles to find her." He knew it was the right plan. For once, Wade had a good idea. But the idea of going back to the X-Mansion and asking Charles for help felt wrong. He didn't know what it would do to him to go back to that place, even if it wasn't the same one he had left behind in his universe. He didn't know if he could ask Charles for a favor when he still felt like he had his Charles' blood on his hands.
He had done a good job of ignoring all the guilt and pain he felt being back at the mansion in Y/N's universe, because he was more focused on her than anything. But now she wasn't even here, and he might never see her again. He didn't want to dredge up old memories when he was still fighting down the panic that was making him sick to his stomach.
"You know old Chuck won't turn us away," Wade continued, ignoring the wariness in Logan's voice. "If anyone can find Y/N, it'll be him."
As much as Logan didn't want to revisit the place that featured heavily in his nightmares, he also didn't want to risk Y/N just because he couldn't get his head out of his ass. "Then let's go."
Seeing the X-Mansion under the current circumstances had Logan on the edge of a breakdown. In his old life, he had been a fuck-up and a drunk and it had cost him his wife. But this time, he had been better. He was present and had barely touched a drop of liquor and yet Y/N had still been taken from him. He felt cursed and he didn't know what was going to become of him if he never saw her again. It felt like it had been written somewhere that James Logan Howlett was meant to suffer every damn day of his miserable life and if this wasn’t proof of some cosmic punishment for being a complete fuck-up, then he didn’t know what was.
Colossus opened the door when Wade kept insistently knocking on it.
"Wade?" Piotr questioned, frowning at him. "What are you doing here?"
"We've come to see the Professor," Logan answered, already feeling the familiar swell of irritation rising with each moment that passed and he wasn't any closer to finding Y/N.
"I'm afraid--" Piotr started, but Logan cut him off.
"Professor!" Logan called, pushing past Piotr. "Charles!" He tried when he didn't get an answer.
"The Professor is busy," Piotr attempted to dissuade him, but Logan wasn't having any of that. He unsheathed his claws and turned towards Colossus.
"This is important," he spat, advancing on Piotr. "So, you find the Professor and tell him we need him now or I'm going to see what these will do to you," he warned, bringing his claws up so Piotr wouldn't need to question what he meant.
"Alright, angry bear, let's just take a moment to reassess," Wade cut in with a hand to Logan's chest. "Where's 'ol Chuck hiding? Hey, Chuck! Where you at?"
"Piotr? What on earth is going on?" A voice drifted in from the next hallway before Charles appeared in the doorway of the foyer.
"Charles," Logan started, advancing on him. "We need your help."
Charles studied him for a moment before tilting his head to the side. "You're not the Logan I know."
Logan never wanted another telepath in his head after what Cassandra did to him, but he knew Charles would never hurt him. It still didn't mean he had to like it. "I'm not from around here," Logan confirmed with a nod of his head. "But I need you to find someone for me."
Charles locked eyes with him and Logan knew he was skimming his thoughts, trying to figure out why Logan was really there. Logan did his best to give up all the information he could, knowing it would speed up the process a hell of a lot sooner than any conversation. The quicker they got down to Cerebro, the quicker they could find Y/N.
"Professor," Piotr called, but Charles shook his head.
"It looks like our new friends need my help," Charles told Piotr. "And I'm not going to let them leave here without doing what I can for them." Charles turned his wheelchair around before glancing over his shoulder. "Well? Are you coming or not?"
Wade clapped him on the shoulder before he skipped forward. Piotr muttered something in Russian before following, leaving Laura and Logan to trail behind the group.
Laura had been quiet for the rest of the trip to the mansion and Logan knew that she was feeling as guilty as he did right now.
"Hey," he whispered, waiting for her to look up at him. "This isn't your fault, you know?"
Laura scowled before she smoothed her expression out into something more neutral. "I know."
Logan reached out to put a hand on her shoulder, earning another scowl. "No, you don't. Because I know right now you're thinking that if you had been with her, then you might have been able to stop Gambit."
Laura nearly stumbled, but she was quick to right herself. "I didn't realize you were a telepath too," she snarked. "Don't tell me what I'm thinking."
If Logan didn't already know that Laura shared DNA with another Logan, he would have sworn they were actually related. As it was, he still couldn't help but care for the kid. She looked at him like she was seeing a ghost half the time, but he knew that she still had some things from her past she needed to resolve. If he could help, then he would, but he didn't want to push. He knew it wouldn't go well if he did.
"I don't blame you," he tried, knowing it was closer to what she was worried about along with Y/N's disappearance. "I don't want to lose you either," he also threw out when he realized it might also help.
Laura didn't respond, but he noticed the way her shoulders slumped, built-up tension easing with the reassurance.
Logan forgot what it was like to watch Charles while he used Cerebro. Knowing that Charles was touching every mind he could searching for Y/N had hope blooming in his chest. Charles was the most powerful telepath he knew, and he always came through for him.
He tried to hide his disappointment when he saw the concentrated frown on Charles' face.
"Y/N," Charles called out, searching for her. "Y/N," he tried again, staring off into the distance, seeing something Logan couldn't.
Charles shook his head, glancing up at Logan.
"There's something, but I can't tell if it's really her or not. It's faint, almost as if she's not really there or something's blocking me from finding her."
Logan suddenly recalled what Cable had told them. Y/N's forcefields would eventually be strong enough to keep out a telepath as strong as Charles. Charles must have read his mind, because he made a thoughtful noise.
"It seems as if whoever took her is trying to keep out a telepath." Charles didn't say anything for a moment before he added, "Or keep a telepath in. Possibly both."
"Why would they need to keep a telepath in?" Laura wondered, shooting Charles a nervous look.
"If they have unlimited access to her mind, then they can condition her to believe anything. If they can keep another telepath from intervening, then they can do whatever they want to her mind."
Logan's claws began to pierce through his skin, and he turned his back on the others so they wouldn't know how upset he was feeling. "Why," was all he got out with his jaw clenched and his shoulders so tense he felt like they would snap. "Why her? Why are they doing this?"
"I can keep trying," Charles offered, "but I'm not sure if I will be able to get through to her. Not right away, at least. Until then, I’m afraid I won’t be of much use to you. I won’t be able to give you the answers you seek."
"Remy," Laura blurted, stepping forward to stand at Charles' side. "Find Remy LeBeau. He's the one who took her and he might know where she's being held."
Charles went silent as he reached out, trying to track down Remy. Logan thought it would take a while, but it seemed like no time at all before Charles let out an amused chuckle.
"Well?" Wade prompted when Charles stayed silent. "Wanna share with the class, Professor?"
"The man you're looking for is standing at the gates," Charles finally spoke, breaking himself away from whatever mental conversation he had been having with Remy. "It seems he's waiting for you."
"Then let's not keep him waiting any longer," Logan growled, unleashing his claws. Logan didn't even wait for the others to keep up with him. He wanted to find Gambit and choke the life out of him for touching Y/N. He wanted to sink his claws into Remy's chest and let him drown in his own blood. Most of all, he just wanted to find out where the hell he had taken Y/N.
As he hurried towards the gates, he could see someone standing just outside them. There was a flash of pink and Logan realized that Remy was idly flipping one of his cards between his hands.
"Where the fuck is she?" Logan noticed Remy turn to watch him as he barreled down the driveway towards him.
"Who?" Remy played dumb with a slight smirk on his face.
"You fucking know who," Logan spat, pulling back one hand, poised to strike, once he was close enough to hurt Remy.
Remy flicked a card at him, letting it ignite and explode, knocking Logan back several feet.
Logan felt a low rumble in his chest that only got deeper as he threw himself at Remy again. Remy snapped another card at him and Logan felt fire dance along his skin as he was thrown to the ground from the blast. He knew he would only heal, but he was starting to get frustrated.
He rose again, intent on finally getting his claws into the smug, insufferable asshole before Wade stepped in. "Okay, big guy, the sun's getting real low."
"Shut the fuck up," Logan snapped before he took another swipe at Remy, only barely grazing his skin because Laura showed up and pushed Remy out of the way.
"He's the only one who can help us find Y/N," Laura told him when Logan shot her a betrayed look.
"Shit, I'm oh for two on that one," Wade groaned as he unsheathed a katana. "Guess it only works on the Hulk." He pointed one of his blades at Remy. "I suggest you start talking or I'm gonna make you talk. Where's Y/N?"
"I might know how to help you find her," Remy finally admitted, holding his hands up in surrender. "But I'll need a little reassurance that if I get you to her, you'll help me kill him."
"Him? Who the fuck is him?" Logan wondered, wanting to know who the fuck took Y/N so he could track the guy down and kill him.
Remy grinned at him, as if he knew what Logan was thinking and he approved. "He goes by Mister Sinister."
"Whoa, whoa, wait," Wade brought his hands up, putting one vertical and lying the other over the top of it to form a 'T.' "Let's just pause here. He calls himself Mister Sinister? Dear God, what is with all these self-important Marvel jackasses thinking they're so special? Mister Sinister, Mister Fantastic, Mister Negative," Wade listed, bringing up a finger for each one. "From now on, you're all calling me Mister Deadpool. No, never mind. Lord Deadpool," he settled on with a firm nod of his head. Gambit shot him a disbelieving look and Wade flipped him off. “Bitch, I said what I said.”
"Jesus," Logan grumbled, wishing that Wade would learn that sometimes saying nothing was preferred than whatever rambling nonsense was coming out of his mouth at any given moment.
"Yes?" Wade turned to look at him as if Logan had been addressing him.
Logan rolled his eyes, unimpressed, before turning his focus back on Remy. Wade was good at throwing himself into a situation and making himself the center of attention, but Logan wasn't about to let himself get distracted. Not when Y/N's life was at stake.
"Where the hell can we find this Mister Sinister?"
"Ah, I think your telepath friend should be a part of this conversation, seeing as he's the one who's gonna be finding your friend."
Logan drew in a deep breath, attempting to keep the refusal he so desperately wanted to give from breaking free. He wanted Remy nowhere near Charles or anyone else he might hurt. Charles was the only person who could find Y/N. If Remy took Charles out of commission, then they might never find her. But Logan, as much as he hated it, knew that he was backed into a corner. He was going to have to trust that if shit hit the fan, then Wade and Laura would help him keep Remy in line. He supposed if push came to shove, they could just get Piotr to sit on Remy and see how long he could stand it until he folded.
He looked over at Wade, meeting his gaze, and only felt marginally better when Wade gave a tiny nod of his head.
At least they were on the same page for whatever was about to happen.
"All right, Gambit, Le Diable le blah blah or whatever the fuck it is you're called, let's go, then," Wade said before gesturing for Remy to start walking up the path towards the mansion.
Gambit shot Wade a contemplative look before he let out a chuckle. "Your friend seemed to know far more about me than she was supposed to as well. I suppose we've met in another life," he mused with an expression Logan didn't like.
Logan felt a rush of anger at the idea that Y/N had looked up at Remy and thought it was the one she knew. He hated that Remy looked like he was nearly fond of her. As if he hadn't just kidnapped her and left her in the clutches of someone who would likely only hurt her.
He didn't realize he had raised his hand to sink his claws right into the smug bastard's back when Laura reached out and placed a hand on his arm. He was quick to snarl at her, but she wasn't phased.
"Once we know where Y/N is," Laura told him before flicking a glare at Remy. "Then you can do whatever the hell you want to him. But until then, try to make sure you don't do anything that will keep him from talking."
Logan hated to admit that the kid had a better head on her shoulders than he ever did, but he was also fiercely proud of her. She was smart and even though she had one hell of a temper, she was still levelheaded when all he wanted to do was kill whoever stood between him and Y/N. He knew, though, that once they had the information they needed, Laura would be just as ruthless.
Piotr was waiting for them at the entrance to Cerebro. He didn't look pleased to see Remy, but he still stepped to the side, gesturing for him to enter.
Charles was facing the doorway, his gaze staying on Remy as he entered the room.
"You're quite the fascinating one, aren't you?" Charles asked, studying Remy with a thoughtful expression.
"You could've at least bought me dinner first," Remy commented with a smirk. "Or at least got me liquored up before you went rummaging through my head."
"Extenuating circumstances," Charles replied and from the tone of his voice, Logan got the hint that Remy and Charles were having an entirely different mental conversation.
"You wanted to have Charles here and he's here," Logan pointed out with a gesture at the telepath. "So talk," he commanded, an itch just under his skin becoming more unbearable by the moment. He felt like every moment he wasn't running towards Y/N was a waste of time. He didn't want to play any more games with Gambit and he sure as hell didn't want to let him distract from why he was here.
Charles and Remy kept their eye contact for long enough that Logan was about to sink his claws into the any part of Remy he could reach if it would just get him to talk. Finally, he tore his gaze away from Charles, breaking whatever connection they had.
"The Professor here knows most of the story by now, but I'll tell you what I can," Remy finally said, turning to give Logan a curious look. "And then when I'm done, we'll go rescue your lovely bele and we'll kill Mister Sinister. It's a win for both of us, my friend."
"That's only if I let you walk away after this," Logan pointed out, pulling his hand into a fist, half-tempted to flash his claws at Remy.
"Oh, you're gonna need me, and I expect by the time we're through, you'll want to keep me around," Remy shot back with a wink.
"Holy shit, I think you've got a shot with Gambit," Wade hissed at him and Logan reached out to push him, nearly sending him toppling over the walkway.
"Tell us where Y/N is," Laura demanded, quirking an unimpressed eyebrow at Remy.
"I'll get to that," Remy promised, "but there's more to this than what you think. Mister Sinister has done horrible, terrible things and I did them all for him, because he asked it of me. But I don't want to be that person no more. Because he'll kill everyone he doesn't want knowing what he knows about mutants. That's where he lost me, you see, the killing. I knew that if I could pull this off, then I would be done with him for good."
"What does he know about mutants?" Logan couldn't help but ask, confused and worried about where Remy's story was going.
"He's a geneticist," Charles chimed in, his tone solemn. Logan didn't know what information he had gotten from Remy, but evidently it hadn't been anything good. "He craves power, be that for himself or those he deems worthy of his experiments."
"I knew that if I did this one last job and grabbed your Y/N for him, then I could count on the X-Men to help me take him down. I wanted to put him on your radar, because I can't take him down alone."
“Motherfucker, have you never heard of a cell phone? You pick it up and you call someone and tell them important shit. You don’t resort to kidnapping half the main pairing. Look what you’ve done to the story, you selfish bastard,” Wade admonished, pointing one of his katanas at Remy.
Remy went quiet for a moment before he continued, his expression somber. "I made a deal with Sinister long ago because I was scared of what I could do. It's not just these that I can charge and then make go boom," he explained, suddenly holding a playing card between two fingers. "It's anything. Even you," Gambit admitted, nodding at Logan. "I can do much more than that. But I got scared, you see, and I asked him for a favor. And then he asked me for one. That favor turned into a group of mutants who did a lot more harm than good. And I don't want anything to do with that ever again. So, no, a phone call wouldn’t have cut it," he explained to Wade. “I needed this to be personal. For all of us.”
"Just how dangerous is this Mister Sinister?" Logan wondered, fearing even more for Y/N's safety. Was he experimenting on her? Why did he even want her in the first place? He felt like Gambit was raising more questions than answering them and he hated that this just seemed to be wasting more time.
"Incredibly dangerous," Charles answered. "If Remy is right, then we will need to be careful. It's likely that Y/N is being manipulated into using her ability to keep me out. Whatever this Mister Sinister is doing to her, he doesn't want anyone interfering."
"I've been wanting this fight for a while," Gambit continued once Charles finished speaking. "But I've been careful, because I knew that if he learned about what I had planned, then he would kill me."
"I don't give a fuck about you," Logan snapped, knowing that Y/N wouldn't even be gone if it wasn't for Remy and his grand scheme for freedom from Mister Sinister.
"If it hadn't've been for me, then she would be dead," Remy shot back, his eyes glowing red for a moment. "I don't know how she snagged his interest, but she must've done something. He wanted her dead, you know, but I stole information for him. Information that saved her. Because like I told you, I'm done killing for him."
Logan didn't know what to say to that. What the hell had Y/N done that pissed off Mister Sinister so much he wanted her dead? The guy sounded like the worst kind of jackass and he didn't like that he had his hooks in Y/N now.
"And I knew that if I was going to pull this off, then I would have to get someone on the inside too. So, I'll show you where he likes to do his experiments. He has several labs, and I didn't drop Y/N off at any of them. But my partner, who also wants to see Sinister burn, is helping him." Remy turned to meet Charles' stare and they had another conversation Logan wished he could hear.
Charles turned back towards Cerebro and placed the helmet back on his head. Logan tried to be patient as he watched Charles search for Remy's friend, but it was hard to know if it was worth it when this might not even work. Remy might be lying or maybe his friend had double-crossed him. This whole plan was based on too many conditions and Logan was terrified that it would all fall apart.
But then Logan caught the faint edge of a smile on Charles' face. "It's been a long time," Charles mused, evidently talking to someone else. He didn't say anything for a moment. "Thank you," he finally uttered and removed the helmet.
"Who was that?" Wade questioned and Logan marveled at the fact that he had forced himself to remain silent for so long.
"An old friend," Charles answered before nodding at Remy. "I know where they are. I can get you to the facility from here. In the meanwhile, I'll continue to try to get in contact with Y/N. Our friend helped me get a little closer, but I couldn't get close enough. It's strange. She's there, I know she is, but it's like she’s been muted."
"And you trust this old friend?" Logan trusted Charles implicitly, and while he knew Wade and Laura would have his back, there were too many unknown variables being thrown in now.
"We might have had our problems in the past, but yes," Charles confirmed with a nod of his head.
Wade clapped his hands together before reaching out to slap a hand to Gambit's shoulder. Gambit shot him a bemused look, but Wade was already turning to address Charles. "Does this mean we'll finally warrant someone from the A-team of the X-Men? No offense," he threw in Piotr's direction.
Piotr merely frowned at Wade in confusion.
"Most of the X-Men are out on missions, but someone did just get back a few hours ago. I believe he'll be able to help you. I'll call him now," Charles offered before closing his eyes and bringing his right pointer and middle fingers up to his temple.
Wade shot him a glance before imitating Charles and Logan had to roll his eyes. He would never say it to him, but Wade had a good plan. Now, they were a step closer to finding you and they were even getting reinforcements.
"Oh my God, I'm so excited. Who do you think it'll be? I'm betting on Cyclops. Sure, he's a bit of a self-righteous little prick, but damn will he get the job done," Wade rambled, gesturing widely enough that he almost smacked Remy in the face. Logan was half-sure it had been done on purpose.
The door to Cerebro slid open and a man walked inside.
"Oh my God, it's--," Wade cut himself off as he considered the man. "Who the fuck are you?"
"Alex," the man answered with an annoyed glance at Wade. "Prof, what's going on?"
"This is Alex Summers," Charles introduced, gesturing towards the guy. "Or Havoc as the team is so fond of calling him.”
"Bitch, didn't you die?" Wade wondered, staring at Alex in confusion.
"What? No! I'm right here," Alex pointed out, gesturing at himself.
"Huh," Wade mused for a moment before he shook his head. "Wow, the retcon is real with this one. I guess people really don't give a fuck about the Fox movies anymore."
"What the fuck are you talking about?" Alex asked, looking like he was just moments away from attacking Wade.
That definitely wasn't going to do a damn bit of good, so Logan decided to step in. "We need your help tracking down someone. She's…," he trailed off, not even sure there was a word to describe exactly what Y/N was to him. "Everything," he finally settled on and when a look of understanding flashed across Alex's face, Logan carried on. "And this Mister Sinister took her and now we need to get her back."
"Then let's go get her," Alex agreed with a simple nod of his head. "Where's she being held?" He asked as he addressed Charles, waiting for Charles to share the information with him.
Logan took a brief moment to size up the team. He looked from Wade to Laura, knowing that they both wanted Y/N back and would risk everything to save her. Alex and Piotr were X-Men who were trained to rescue anyone they could while also stopping the bad guy. And then there was Gambit, who was an unknown. He wasn't the one from the Void, but he claimed he was done with Sinister. Logan didn't want to, but he would have to trust him too.
Charles seemed to sense the turn in Logan's thoughts because he offered him a warm, reassuring smile. "I'll continue to attempt to contact Y/N and let her know you're on your way. You'll find her, Logan."
Logan didn't want to say that he feared the state he would find Y/N in. What if he was too late? What if she were gone and he would never get her back? He had suffered over and over his whole life, but she was the bright spot that pulled him up from the depths of rock bottom. If he plummeted that far again, he didn't think he would ever get up again.
"Have faith," Charles told him and it took Logan a beat too long to realize he hadn't voiced that out loud, instead choosing to speak to Logan in his mind. "Y/N is waiting for you."
Logan nodded his head before he looked at his makeshift team. "Let's fucking go."
You opened your eyes, staring at the bookshelves in front of you. You weren't sure whether you wanted to laugh or cry with relief, but you settled on making yourself stand up. You were ashamed, guilt threatening to weigh you down, at what you had become.
Charles told you that help was on the way, but what would Logan think of you once he found out what Nathaniel had nearly made you do? Even if it wasn't real, you had nearly killed someone out of spite. You had been so ready to destroy yourself just because you had been pushed too far. Years of training with the X-Men had gone right out the window and you had let the bad guy get to you.
"It wasn't real," you muttered to yourself, trying to convince yourself you weren't too far gone. All you had to do was think about Logan, the real Logan, coming to find you and it had you strengthening your resolve to get the hell out of whatever trap Nathaniel had constructed for you.
The help that was promised would be useless if you couldn't figure out how to escape the illusion. You tried to think of anything that might help you pull at the curtain, getting a peek at the wizard behind it. It took you a moment, but you finally realized besides Nathaniel and the voice in your head that had been Charles, there was one other fixture that had been steadily present in the fucked-up existence Nathaniel dreamed up for you.
You forced yourself to your feet, intent on seeking out the only other person who might be able to give you some answers.
She was still sitting at the table, idly flipping through a newspaper. Seeing her in her ever present all-white ensemble made you feel like you were about to trip right down the rabbit hole, chasing a white rabbit who would only bring you more trouble.
"Took you long enough, sugar," she drawled, arching a brow at you.
"Who the hell are you?" It wasn't really what you wanted to know, but it would give you a little bit of clarity.
"Emma," she supplied, finally turning in her chair to consider you fully. "Emma Frost. And you're Y/N. I know all about you," she claimed, briefly tapping a finger to her temple.
"You're a telepath," you surmised with a groan.
"Got that right," she agreed with a wicked smile that sent a shiver through you. "But I'm on your side, if there even are sides here. Nathaniel, as you know him, is someone who goes by an entirely different name. Mister Sinister," she added when you shot her a confused look. "He stole you away because he wanted to tweak your powers. He wanted you on his side, because he claimed you would be a wonderful agent of destruction. He's been using your forcefields to keep out Charles, but while Nathaniel's been distracted, I've been lowering your defenses and letting Charles in just enough to try to talk to you. I'm the one who told him where we are."
"Why," you bit out, not sure how to stomach all of the information. Why are you here? Why are you helping him? Why are you helping me? All those questions went unspoken, but from the way Emma nodded her head, you knew she still heard them.
"Nathaniel needed a second telepath to keep you contained in his reality, because he wanted to fully immerse you. He wanted a good telepath, someone who could keep his deception running. He contacted The Hellfire Club and thought he could hire me, but there's not enough money in the world to make me give a damn about his little schemes. But I was curious, and Remy approached me with a more tempting deal, so I'm here. Despite what Nathaniel might think, some people can't be bought. He was stupid enough to leave me in charge whenever he couldn't give his full attention to the lie and I’ve been doing what I can to let Charles in without Nathaniel noticing. "
"Remy," you muttered, thinking back to the explosion in the corner store that had started it all. "He was real?"
"Real as you or me, sugar. Nathaniel's got agents everywhere, but Remy wants out and I decided to help him. He wants Sinister gone once and for all and I thought that was a worthy enough cause to let myself get wrapped up in all this."
You didn't know how to keep up with everything she was saying. You felt so angry, fury burning through you faster than you could process, but you couldn't let it overwhelm you. You needed to keep your head, because if you slipped now, it might be the difference between life and death. If you weren't careful, you might never see Logan again.
"Wake me up," you snapped, advancing on her. "You're a telepath, right, so get me the fuck out of here."
"Are you sure you're ready for that? You might not be prepared for what's going to happen," Emma warned.
"I just want out," you hissed, feeling that creeping sense of anxiety pushing in at the edges. You felt restless and wired and all you wanted to do was bring the fight to Nathaniel. "Let me out," you pleaded, hating how your voice went weak and broken on the last word.
Emma studied you for a moment before she stood up. "Be careful what you wish for," she warned before reaching a hand out and placing it on your shoulder.
There was a moment when you felt like you were falling. Darkness enveloped you and there was a rush as Emma forced you out of Nathaniel's illusion. Your senses came back to you one by one, leaving you to try to piece together what was happening to you.
You heard a steady beeping noise and felt like something was weighing you down. You heard someone muttering to themselves and felt the chill of the room. You could smell something vaguely metallic, and a bitter taste coated your tongue. You could feel a freezing sensation sweeping through your veins as well as the stiff sheets that covered a cot you were lying on. None of it was comforting and you wanted nothing more than to see for yourself what was going on.
After what felt like minutes that had dragged into hours, you finally forced yourself to open your eyes. There was a light shining in your eyes and your vision when shockingly white for a second. Pain spiked through your head, but you forced yourself to focus, glancing away from the light to the side.
There was a man standing there. He was facing a machine, focused on a readout. You instinctively knew that it was Nathaniel, but he looked different. His skin held a greyish tint to it and from the reflection of the screen he was looking at, you could see his eyes were red.
"I should have known better than to trust someone who I pulled from the depths of The Hellfire Club," Nathaniel mused, meeting your eyes through the reflection. "Although, I supposed her diamond mutation is the only thing that will save her now. It's really quite intriguing."
You felt a shiver run through you and you attempted to sit up, but it was then you realized you were strapped down to a bed. There was an IV set up, the needle nestled in the crook of your arm. Panic flooded your mind, and you struggled uselessly against the restraints across your chest, stomach, and thighs.
Nathaniel turned to look at you, a pleased smirk on his face. "I'm not going to hurt you," he claimed, as he took a step towards the bed. It was then you caught sight of the red glowing diamond on his forehead and you didn't know why that set you off. Nathaniel had seemed normal, but seeing him as Mister Sinister finally convinced you that you were in the presence of someone truly evil. "Not when I invested so much in you." He grabbed the back of a chair that was close by and settled it near the head of the bed. He sat down in it, uncomfortably close to your face, and reached out to brush a hand over your forehead, wiping away the cold sweat that had broken out.
"Why," you managed to get out, even though you were shaking. "Why did you take me?"
Nathaniel sat back, giving you a moment to breathe without his intense focus bearing right down on you. "I was going to kill you," he admitted with a fond smile. "You took out my Marauder. My Riptide. No one had ever done that before. He's unique, you see, and I was upset. While I was blinded by rage, my Gambit saw something in you. He's quite the thief, you know. He found the TVA's records on you. I'm still not sure how he got in and out without them noticing, but he's a clever one."
"Remy," you whispered, thinking of the friend you once had in the Void. But this wasn't your Remy and you didn't know what to think about the fact that he had inadvertently saved you and signed you up for Nathaniel's mindfuck of a plan. Your Remy had been bold and chaotic, but he had never been cruel. He never would have worked for Sinister. "Why is he working for you?"
"He needed something from me," Nathaniel answered, reaching out to trace an 'x' with his finger over your forehead. "He was terrified of his own power and thought I could help him control it by removing a piece of his brain. In return, I made him work for me. He's been working with my other Marauders to draw you out for weeks with attacks around the city. I knew I needed you alone, so I bided my time."
You licked your lips, suddenly so aware of how dry your mouth was that you couldn't stand it. "What did he find at the TVA?" You knew you should be trying to get away, but you wanted answers. You also had the feeling that as long as Nathaniel was right there at your side, you wouldn't be going anywhere. You might as well take advantage of the situation while you could and hold on to the hope that Logan would show up soon.
"Did you know that your universe lost its anchor being? Scott Summers," he answered without you even having to ask. There was an affectionate, warm look that flashed across his face before it was gone. "He's another mutant I've always found quite fascinating. Have you heard of him? Of course you have. You were on the X-Men together," Nathaniel continued with a sly grin, confirming he knew more about you than you wanted him to.
Your mind was racing at the implications that Scott had been the one keeping your universe together. Losing Scott had surely set your life spinning off in a crazy direction, but the fact that your universe couldn't survive without him? You weren't sure whether to laugh or cry at the thought.
"Your universe maybe had several hundred years before it died out, but the TVA knew about your potential. They pruned you and dropped you into the Void to give you time to get over your heartache. You were so broken up over losing the Wolverine that you became a shell of yourself, and they couldn't have that. They needed you strong and ready for a fight." Nathaniel's fingers swept down from your forehead before brushing over your eyes and then nose. He continued down until he could press them just under your jaw, checking your pulse.
"Then what happened?" You asked just to keep him talking. You didn't like the way he was considering you now, measuring and fixed right on you.
"I'm sure you can guess," he prompted with a sharp grin, showing his teeth. "They planned on approaching you after a few years once you had the time to properly hone your abilities and ask you to work for them. But then Wade Wilson and Logan Howlett saved every universe from being ripped apart by Cassandra Nova and made you one of their little consolation prizes. They still wanted you, but Nathan Summers intervened on your behalf."
There was another brief fond look on his face at the mention of Cable and you wondered why he was so outright obsessed with the Summers family. It was as if he thought they were his playthings that had managed to impress him.
"So," he continued, finally pulling his hand away from your throat, "the TVA dropped their plans for you. I, however, plan on doing no such thing. What they were willing to wait years for, I achieved within a day. Because I knew all I had to do was get you all to myself and make you see things my way. Once I knew about you, I couldn't let you go. I theorized that your powers, if left to mature, would become incredibly destructive. You could level whole cities. You could trap people and make them suffer in such beautiful ways. And you could do it all without taking any damage to yourself. You're perfect," he turned a warm smile on you that felt entirely wrong. His hand drifted down towards the needle still stuck in your arm. He tapped it twice, smirking at your wince, before ripping it out. "And I wanted you all to myself. I could have wiped your mind and erased Logan from it, but I didn't want to do that."
A small part of you thought maybe this would all have been easier on you if he had done that. But then you thought about Logan, who hadn't actually abandoned you at all. None of your grief had been real, because it had been entirely fabricated by the man sitting at your bedside.
"It was like I told you, I had to break you to remake you. So, I broke you," he leaned down so his face was hovering just over yours. "And you made it so easy for me," he drawled with a wicked grin.
You felt a rush of anger and strained against the straps keeping you tethered. A disappointed expression flickered across his face and he shook his head.
"Your self-esteem issues are truly impressive, do you know that? Even now, after all the work I've done, you still doubt yourself," he hissed, reaching out to cup your cheek in his hand and forcing you to look fully at him. "I've crafted some truly wonderful mutants in my time. Scott Summers, Nathan Summers, the Maximoff twins. They have all yielded some of the best results, myself not included, but it's been quite some time since I've dealt with such raw, organic potential. I barely had to do anything. It was all locked up inside, hidden beneath layers of your own mental blocks. I just had to power through them and get you to see what you’re capable of doing."
You heard a low rumble before the lights flickered. It felt like the building shook for a brief moment and then stilled. It was then you could hear people shouting and screaming before it was followed by another explosion.
Nathaniel let out an amused chuckle, as if he wasn't concerned about what was happening just outside the lab.
"Enjoy my gifts," he added before he stood, backing away from you. “I expect to see you using them.” He turned to face the doors just as someone rushed inside.
"They're here for her," he growled, nodding towards you.
You were shocked to see Sabretooth and you wondered how it would affect Logan to see his brother again.
"Of course they are," Nathaniel sighed before following Victor. "Then let's go welcome our visitors."
You panicked at the thought that Nathaniel would be going anywhere near Logan. His goal had been to separate you from Logan so he could swoop in and fill the void in your life. What if he actually wanted to kill Logan? There was no doubt in your mind that he would find a way to kill him if it meant he could get you under his control. The illusion had shattered, leaving Nathaniel with no other choice but to rip Logan away from you for good.
You could feel fear and rage mesh within you and all you wanted to do was get rid of the damn restraints. You pushed and pulled and finally when you had enough, you brought up a forcefield. It was pressed in so close to you that you felt nearly crushed by it, but then you shoved it outwards, recalling the feeling of using it in the reality Sinister had constructed for you.
It worked, sloppy and off center, but you still got the result you wanted. The floor beneath the bed was cracked, but the straps had given way, and you were free.
You could hear the fight, but you couldn't see it. You decided to rectify that, attempting another repulsion field and aiming it towards the wall that separated you from the others. This one was better, although you figured if your target was a wall, then it wasn't that much of a struggle. You used the forcefield and pushed out, sending out a concussive blast that put a crack in the wall. You watched as the crack grew and split, branching off in multiple directions before the wall began to crumble, taking part of the roof with it.
The next room was total chaos.
The first person you noticed was Remy. He was flinging card after card, hitting targets and making them explode. He had his staff in one hand, using it to deflect and push, slamming it into people before making them ignite. After that it was Emma, drifting around the room in her diamond form, and using it best to her advantage. You noticed how she slipped in and out of it, before using her telepathic abilities to freeze people, paralyzing them. Then it was Piotr and a blonde man you didn't recognize. Piotr was knocking out people while the man used plasma blasts that traveled along the length of his arms before he directed them at Sinister's followers.
Laura was kneeling on someone, using her claws to slash and gouge a man's neck and chest. She was visibly enraged as she stood, flicking blood from her hands as the man beneath her succumbed to his injuries. She moved on to the next one, single-mindedly focused on making them suffer the same fate.
Wade was practically dancing around the room, spinning his katanas at a speed you could barely keep up with as he sliced through one person's midsection before sticking the other through someone's neck.
Finally, your gaze landed on Logan. His lips were pulled back in a snarl, his teeth bared as he fought through the room. He dug his claws into someone's back and ripped them out, blood spraying all over his front and face. Then he was on to the next person, cutting easily through their sides and picking them up on his claws, forcing them deeper. He seemed to realize Victor was part of the fight, because he only grew more frenzied as he threw himself at him, sinking his claws into Victor’s neck.
He was beautiful in his ferocity. Knowing that it was all for you left you breathless in a way you didn't know how to overcome. You had spent what you thought were weeks without Logan when it had only been a day. Logan had never left you. Logan was here, killing mercilessly all to save you.
They were all here to save you. You couldn't reconcile that thought with the thoughts that had clouded your mind once Nathaniel got his hands on you. But here they were, your family with a couple additions from the X-Men, rescuing you.
Sinister's henchmen were falling left and right, but you had lost sight of him. You knew the others could take care of his followers, but you wanted to find Nathaniel for yourself.
You wanted to be the one to kill him.
You let yourself go invisible, seeking him out. It wouldn't be over until he was well and truly dead. Someone knocked into you, and you instinctively turned, forming a forcefield around your fist and bringing it crashing right into the person's jaw. You felt the bone break beneath the force of your hit and the person clutched their jaw, howling in pain. Another hit and they were on the floor, their nose crushed and bleeding freely.
You turned and found Sinister near the blonde man, a taunting grin on his face as he spoke to the stranger. You made your way through the room towards them, forming spikes along the forcefield surrounding your fist and driving them up into someone's chest. You kept going, punching through bone and muscle until you could feel your forcefield break through to the other side. You wrenched your arm free, leaving the person to drop to the floor, lifeless.
You aimed a repulsion field at one person, watching as they got torn in half by it. You then formed a forcefield around another, inverting it so that the spikes were on the inside and the person was simultaneously punctured by hundreds of pinprick spikes.
You kept moving through the room, dodging and striking and shielding and pushing when needed. You only had eyes for Nathaniel, thinking that once he was gone, there would be no more threats to you or Logan or anyone else you loved.
There were only three more people between you and Sinister when you saw the blonde stranger let out a plasma blast from the middle of his chest. It was wild and less controlled than the ones that had come from his fists, but it seemed more personal. He advanced on Nathaniel, not letting up even for a moment, until Nathaniel was on the ground and still.
You were terrified for a moment that you had lost your chance, and you used a forcefield to shove the blonde back. He shot you a confused look, his arm coming up to aim a blast your way, but Wade swooped in, shielding you.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, Havoc, she's the baby bird we're trying to get back to the nest. Don't hurt her." Wade turned to look at you and even with the mask on, you could see the relief on his face. "It is so fucking good to see you," he said as he approached you. You let him pull you into a hug and you figured he was just about one of the only people you would let touch you at the moment. The other two were across the room, taking care of the last of Sinister's team.
After a moment, you stepped away from Wade's embrace and kept walking towards your target. He was still on the floor, plasma burns marring his skin. You could see where his regenerative ability must have been trying to kick in, tissue attempting to connect again, but it wasn't working.
He locked eyes with you and you knelt at his side. You weren't sure why, but you reached out to grab his hand. He was real, solid, and there was no way he was getting up off the floor. Not if you had anything to do with it.
He laughed, the sound choked for a moment, as he offered you a bloodied grin.
"You were always meant to be special," he croaked, briefly squeezing your hand. You had a brief moment, thinking back to the world he created for you. Nathaniel comforting you and manipulating you and leaving breadcrumbs down a dark path for you to follow. "It won't be the last time you see me, Y/N. I'll always be with you," he promised, tapping a finger against the back of your hand.
You were aware of the others coming towards you. The blonde stranger in the X-Men uniform was watching the pair of you, but he wasn't intervening. The others seemed to know that whatever you were doing was important, even though you could practically feel the weight of Logan's stare on you.
There was a red light that had been flashing through the room and a siren that was droning on in the background. You didn't feel like you were in danger, though. There was something brewing deep within you, and it felt powerful. You felt indestructible as you clutched Nathaniel's hand with the knowledge that you were about to end it all for him.
In the background, a robotic voice came over the speakers. "Warning, status critical. Omega level threat detected. Retreat is advised." The message repeated over and over and you finally tore your gaze away from Nathaniel to consider the others in the room. They were all still, watching you, waiting for whatever it was you were about to do.
Nathaniel laughed again and began to dig his nails into the back of your hand. "I made you more," he whispered, staring up at you in something akin to awe. It was proprietary and possessive and proud.
The realization hit you and you nearly let go of his hand. You were the omega level threat. Once you freed yourself from your restraints, you realized Nathaniel’s deceit had been good for something, because you had felt powerful, indomitable, but omega level? You had never dared to dream of reaching that peak with your powers. The fact that you only had Nathaniel to thank for that left a sour taste in your mouth that had you craving his destruction even more.
"I made you mine," Nathaniel breathed with a pleased smirk.
You could feel rage descend and sweep aside any rational thoughts you had.
"I was never yours and now you're nothing," you hissed as you formed a forcefield around your free hand. It fit like a glove and you let the arcs of the field molded around your fingertips stretch out into spikes. You pressed it gently against his forehead, gifting him with a devious grin. "But really, thank you for the gifts," you sneered before you pushed. A scream built in your chest and escaped through your throat as you pressed in with your forcefield, tearing right through Nathaniel's skull to his brain. You closed your fingers into a fist before letting the forcefield expand, traveling through Nathaniel's body. You let it fill him out, occupying the space just beneath his skin, before you let it shatter, taking Nathaniel's insides with it.
You were coated in blood and viscera, but you didn't care. After everything, spending weeks in a hell of Nathaniel's making, he was dead by the powers he had so carefully helped you hone.
"Shit, girl," you heard Wade saying. "You've been holding out on us?"
You turned to look up at Wade, blinking at him, dazed.
Nathaniel was dead, but the feeling inside you didn't abate. You felt grief, anger, pain, confusion, betrayal, and a host of other emotions that had red still streaked across your vision.
You needed to direct it at something else, anything else, and while most of Nathaniel's followers had fallen, there was still someone else in the room. You got to your feet, dodging Logan's outstretched hand, focused on your new target. Remy had fled, likely sensing you wouldn't be happy to see him this time, but Emma had stayed.
She caught the look on your face and immediately shifted into her diamond form. You laughed as you reached out, forming a forcefield around her head.
"I've got an experiment for you," you started, letting it get smaller and smaller, tightening it around her neck like a noose. All you could think was that she had helped Nathaniel nearly destroy you. She had tried to take everything from you. "Which is going to happen first? Will the diamond finally crack, or will you run out of air? Let's find out."
You saw Emma's eyes go wide in panic, her hands coming up to uselessly claw at the forcefield.
Someone grabbed your shoulders and forced you to turn towards them. You were ready to strike out, but you stopped at the sight of Logan standing there.
He looked so lost, afraid, and you were worried for a moment that he was scared of you. The thought caused you to drop the forcefield around Emma, aware that she was leaving the room now that your attention was off her.
"I'm sorry," you whispered, feeling a swell of emotions you couldn't bring yourself to embrace. Tears welled in your eyes and you finally let yourself fall into Logan's arms.
"It's okay," Logan murmured, letting you rest your head on his shoulder. "I've got you. I have you, sweetheart. It's okay now." He kept up the reassurances as you cried, sobs leaving you faster than you could try to contain them. Logan's arms tightened around you and for one moment it felt like it was just the two of you.
You were fighting every thought that Nathaniel had poured into your brain. Logan had never left you, but you still felt like you had been abandoned. Laura had never turned her back on you, but you still felt like she didn't want you anymore. Wade had never chosen Logan over you, but you still felt like you had been betrayed.
You were a mess and you didn't know how to make the warring thoughts in your head go away.
"Shh," Logan soothed. You could feel him trembling, likely holding himself back. "I've got you, Y/N. He's never going to touch you again. No one is every going to lay one fucking finger on you ever again. Not as long as I'm around."
It was everything you wanted to hear, but there was still a sick twist in your gut that told you it wasn't over. You were literally standing in the remnants of Nathaniel's body, but you felt like he was still in your head. You didn't know how to shake off the feelings he had instilled in you while trapped in his illusion, but you wanted to believe. You so desperately needed to know that Logan was sincere.
You pulled back enough to meet Logan's eyes. Unshed tears were caught in them and they were filled with hope, longing, relief, and fear. You knew Logan hadn't rested since you were taken and you wanted nothing more than to go home and crawl into bed with him.
But you were terrified. What if you went home and you woke up to yet another fake world?
So, no matter how much you truly wanted to go home, you needed something else more.
"Charles," you rasped, watching Logan's expression fall. "Take me to Charles."
Logan looked like he wanted to argue. "Don't you--" he started before he was cut off by you shaking your head.
"Please," you begged, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt and attempting to reel him in closer. "Logan, please, I need to talk to him."
"Let's get you to Charles, then," Logan agreed, his voice gruff as he pulled you in tighter. He placed a kiss to your temple before reluctantly letting you go.
The next couple of hours were a bit of a blur. Piotr was flying the X-Jet back while you sat with Logan pressed close to your side. He had his arm around your shoulders and you knew that it would be a while before he would let you out of his grasp. Feeling Logan against your side, warm and protective, went a long way towards convincing you that you were finally safe.
The blonde stranger turned out to be Alex Summers. You realized that was why Nathaniel had sought him out even when his lackies were being killed all around him. He had an obsession with the Summers family and he couldn't help but pursue it.
"Yeah," Wade started once the introduction had been made. He clapped a hand to Alex's shoulder, ignoring Alex’s eye roll. "We wanted the other brother, but he was busy saving starving orphans from a well or whatever."
Alex shrugged off Wade's hand and shot him an irritated glare. "You're an idiot."
"Don't I know it," Wade sighed before turning back to look at you. He dropped into the seat across from yours and reached out to pat you on the knee.
You nearly flinched away, but checked the reaction in time. From the way Wade quickly drew his hand back, you knew you weren't entirely successful.
"God, what I'd give to run that jackass through with my blades," Wade muttered, carefully watching you.
You didn't like feeling so fragile, but you knew that it would take you a while to heal from what Nathaniel had done to you.
"He's dead," you replied, knowing that it was mostly just to reassure yourself.
Even if you weren't quite convinced, you still had to try to fool yourself into believing it was true.
Once you got to the X-Mansion, Charles was waiting in the foyer. He offered you a warm smile before cocking his head to the side, silently requesting you follow him.
Wade and Laura stayed behind in the foyer with Piotr while Alex stalked off, grumbling something about getting some sleep. Laura let you go with a hug and Wade placed a kiss on your cheek, the fabric of his mask soft against your skin. Piotr simply gave you a solemn nod of his head.
"I'm glad you are safe, friend," he told you before Wade called him an 'ol' softie,' leaving you to follow Charles down the hallway leading off the foyer.
Logan trailed after you, leaving enough space between the two of you so you wouldn't feel crowded.
Charles stopped at a door before pushing it open, gesturing for you to walk inside. You realized once you got into the room that it was Charles' office. You opted to take one of the chairs in front of his desk while Logan stayed near the door. You glanced over your shoulder to see he was leaning up against the wall beside the door, his arms crossed and expression guarded.
You assumed Charles would take the spot behind his desk, but he came to a stop at your side. He turned his chair to face you and you gifted him with the same courtesy, meeting his stare.
Silence fell between the pair of you and you tried to figure out what you wanted to say. Finally, you settled on, "Thank you."
Charles dipped his head in a nod. "I'm glad Emma was there to give us your location. I'm afraid I wasn't able to find you with your forcefield up. They're quite unique," he mused.
You felt just the slightest bit of guilt for the way you had turned on Emma once Sinister was dead, but you couldn't go back to change your actions.
"Piotr mentioned that you wanted to talk to me," Charles prompted with a curious quirk of his brow.
"I know he's dead," you forced yourself to say. "Alex and I killed him, but I still feel like he's in my head. What if he left something behind? What if he's still in there waiting to strike again?"
Charles considered you for a moment before he reached out. "May I?"
You shot Charles' hand a wary look. You would rather let Piotr hit you full force than allow another telepath in your head, but you needed to know. You finally leaned forward, crossing the distance between your head and Charles' outreached hand.
There was a rush before Charles carefully started picking through memories. Between Nathaniel and Emma, you felt mentally frail, but Charles was being delicate.
"Oh, my dear," he whispered, dismayed at whatever he found. "You've been through quite an ordeal, haven't you?"
You didn't have to answer, because you knew your secrets and the darkness that had invaded your mind were all in full view for Charles to peruse. You were ashamed and humiliated and terrified that Nathaniel had tipped you over the edge and now you were falling, heading straight for rock bottom.
"I can assure you that Sinister no longer has any hold over your mind," Charles continued, still combing through your memories and thoughts. "If you like, I can try to suppress the memories," he offered, his voice calm in your head.
You wished more than anything that you could allow Charles to soothe the balm, but you were worried about letting anyone tamper with your memories. Even though Charles had the best of intentions, you wanted to know that everything in your mind was undeniably yours.
"If you change your mind or need me to take another look, all you have to do is ask," Charles said, carefully extracting himself from your mind.
"Thank you," you managed before standing. You turned to see Logan still watching you, a tiny spark of warmth taking root in you. "Let's go home," you told him, watching as a relieved smile crossed his face.
"Let's go home," he agreed, reaching out towards you as you got closer.
The following weeks were spent trying to convince yourself that you weren't still trapped in Nathaniel's manipulation. You didn't know how to rid yourself of the doubt, so you did your best to counteract that with the proof you needed to show you that your loved ones would never leave you.
You started by talking to Wade.
Logan and Laura had left to run errands, and right as they were out the door, Wade showed up on the doorstep. You knew they practically had a rotation going to make sure you weren't alone at any given time.
"Fancy seeing you here," he said as he stepped into the living room. "Ooh, are those cookies?" He reached out to grab one of the cookies Laura was addicted to.
So much had been on your mind that you weren't even sure where to start. You were staring at Wade, attempting to figure out what to ask first, when he stopped mid-bite to look at you.
"What's going on, baby bird?" He let himself drop down into a seat at the kitchen table before he snagged another cookie. "This shit is good," he moaned, stuffing one into his mouth whole.
"Wade," you started, sitting down in the chair across from him. "If Logan were to ever leave me, would you let me stay with you?"
Wade suddenly stopped chewing before setting down the third cookie he had swiped. "Did Logan say he was leaving you?" His voice was low and dangerous, cautious enough for you to know he was trying to grasp the situation while forming his plan of attack.
"No," you told him, hoping you were right. "But what if he did?"
"Good," Wade snorted before picking up his pilfered cookie again. "I'd chop his off his balls and serve them to him sunny side up if he ever did," he promised, tone serious.
"And I could stay with you?" You checked, wanting to assuage that fear.
Wade shrugged his shoulders. "I'm always up for a sleepover, sure," he agreed. "You'd have to share a bed with Blind Al, but I promise she won't bite. Well, maybe just once or twice," he amended with a thoughtful grimace. “Or, I could put some couch cushions on the floor and tell her that’s the bed, so we could share,” he added, gesturing between the two of you. “And then we could cuddle and tell each other all our secrets and it’ll be a fun little sleepover every night. Fuck, you should totally dump Logan so we can do that.”
You felt a surprised laugh bubble out of you, and it felt so fucking good. Trust Wade to bring you the levity you so desperately craved. “God, you’re an asshole,” you sighed, loving him all the more for it. You watched him eat another cookie, knowing Laura was going to be pissed when she got back and realized they were gone. "And what if you were mending things with Vanessa and didn't want another roommate? What then?"
Wade was silent for long enough that you started to worry.
"If I were to get Vanessa back," he started, voice uncharacteristically small yet hopeful, "then she knows what she's getting with me. And that includes you," Wade added, shooting you a wink. "We're a package deal now, baby bird, and Papa Deadpool would never leave you."
You didn't respond, instead choosing to push the box of cookies in Wade's direction, silently urging him to take more.
Next, you decided to talk to Laura.
She had been quiet around you, studying you from afar. Logan had told you she blamed herself for not being there to keep Gambit from taking you. You didn't want Laura to feel guilty, so you sent Logan out to get dinner and took your chance to talk to her without anyone else around.
"Gambit would have gotten me sooner or later," was what you said instead of any sort of platitude. "Nathaniel, Sinister," you corrected yourself, "wasn't going to stop. So, if it came down to me being taken or me being taken and you getting hurt, then I know which scenario I prefer. I'm glad you weren't with me," you told her, "because if anything had happened to you, I wouldn't have made it. I need you safe more than anything else."
Laura didn't say anything for a while. She kept absentmindedly running her nails over the fabric covering the couch, digging in until she caused a small rip. "I spent a really long time without a family," she finally got out. "And just when I thought I had someone, he died protecting me. I never thought I would have anyone who actually made me feel like I belonged somewhere, but then you found me. I was lost in the Void for a while and Cassandra's guys were bearing down on me, but then you showed up with Johnny." There was a fond little smile on her face, but she still hadn't looked at you since she started talking.
"You took me back to the hideout and you treated me as if I had been there with you all along. You looked out for me and protected me and loved me. And you still do all those things. Now, I have you and I have Logan and you've both given me a home. A family. And then you were gone and we didn't know if we would ever find you again. I was so scared," she whispered, finally meeting your gaze. "I can't lose you too."
You knew then that you had been stupid to believe, even under Nathaniel's influence, that Laura would ever pick someone else over you. You felt a smile break out on your face before reaching out to pull her into a hug.
"You won't lose me," you promised, reaching up to flick her ear.
Laura huffed out an amused little laugh that sounded suspiciously close to a relieved sob.
You had never found it hard to be vulnerable around Logan, but you were half-terrified at the thought of trying to broach the subject of his wife. It was your deepest fear and Nathaniel had exploited it perfectly. You had nearly lost yourself just at the thought of losing Logan. What if there really was someone out there, even if it wasn't his wife, who would make him leave you?
You were lying in bed, tucked close in to his side. Your head was resting on his chest and you were trailing your fingers up and down his stomach, trying to work up the courage to ask what was on your mind. You had already told Logan what happened to you while Nathaniel held you captive, but he didn't know just how much it had affected you.
"When Wade told me he could get the TVA to fix my universe, I wanted nothing more than to return there and have them all back again," Logan's voice was a low rumble in his chest, nearly soothing despite the way anxiety shot through you at his words. "And then it turned out that there was no fixing it. I am who I am because of those mistakes and those losses. I wouldn't be here without them."
You pressed a kiss to his chest, letting him know you were listening, but not willing to contribute just yet. Logan had an uncanny ability to know exactly what was on your mind, so you didn’t question why he chose the topic.
Logan's hand came up to press between your shoulder blades. He swept his hand down to the small of your back, urging you to press closer to him.
"You're nothing like her, you know." Logan was quick to press a kiss to the crown of your head when he felt you tense up. "You like different movies and songs and books. You love the rain and she was scared of thunderstorms. She would have hated Wade, but you've practically adopted him. I told you in the Void that I knew you weren't her and I've known that every second since. I love you," he admitted, his voice soft and nearly pleading. "I love you knowing that you aren't her, because I don't want to dwell on the past anymore. There's no changing the past and there's no bringing her back, but even if it was possible, I would still want my future with you. I will always want you."
You had carefully kept your gaze directed at Logan's shirt, but you finally lifted your head to lock eyes with him.
"I want my future with you too," you told him, aware that you had to let him know you were on the same level. Logan was used to fighting for what was his, but you knew that letting anyone see this side of him was special. He trusted you and you knew without a doubt that he loved you. It would be hard to erase the damage Nathaniel had done, but you knew that Logan, Laura, and Wade would all gladly take on the task of helping you heal.
"I'm not going to lose you again," Logan swore, his hand dipping beneath the hem of your shirt to press to the skin at the base of your spine. "And you're not going to lose me. We'll fight for you every day if we have to."
Your throat felt tight and your eyes stung, but you managed to rise until you could kiss Logan. It was a promise from you to him that spoke of every ounce of the love you had for him.
"And I'll fight for you," you spoke into the kiss, feeling the way Logan smiled against your lips.
It was easy, then, to lose yourself to Logan. Every touch was a vow to continue forward together and every kiss was sealing the deal set forth between you. You were no longer alone and now you would never have to be.
You had a team. A family.
And most importantly, you had Logan.
Author's Notes: Is Sinister dead? Was it a clone? We may never know. There is a part 5 and part 6 being planned out! I'm going to grant a request that a lot of people had for this series regarding bringing back two certain characters, so I really want to deliver on that. I'm also going to bring in another villain and other characters. So, if you liked this or you're interested in more, please let me know! I literally wrote 15.6k in the past week just fueled by y'all's support and it really does help me so much. I can't thank y'all enough. I haven't been this inspired in a really long time. 💖 (also my coworker called me baby bird the other day and I had a moment of blind panic where I was worried she somehow found this fic, because she knows I've written reader fic before.)
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@sarahskywalker-amidala @shizzybarnaclee @whiskytoast @zbeez-outlet @halepack2011
@facelessfionna @i-left-my-cat-on-the-stove @whyam1heree @serendippindots @janilovecookies
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#wolverine#logan howlett#deadpool#deadpool and wolverine#logan howlett imagine#logan howlett x reader#imagine#marvel#marvel imagine#marvel x reader#wolverine x reader#wolverine imagine#x men#logan x reader#reader insert#my fic#when i'm with you i'm home 'verse
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Hey dude. It's me - anon with that SAGAU!kid!reader idea. Well, I was thinking about Liyue or Sumeru men (I'm that kind of person, that's into guys LOL). If there is a relationship, then only platonic one (or maybe father-child in Zhongli's case).
So I will try to go with Zhongli, Baizhu, Alhaitham and Cyno (probably Gaming, cuz he's like a son to me) That's it for now Hope I didn't ask for much tho 😅
CONNECTED TO THIS IDEA!
Aye aye, Anon! God!Child! Reader Platonic Meets Ups It is!
Also plz note that I might not be able to list every Sumeru/Liyue man there is in Genshin bc Im doing this at the top of my head—
Sumeru And Liyuen Men (And Gaming) With The God Child.
(Warning: Might be OOC!)
Cyno
The General Mahamatra may not exactly be well-versed when it comes to comforting words (except his puns—and even then, many people would say otherwise), but Cyno is a sincere man. You can trust that he will stick to his word.
And he does, when he promised to look after the Almighty Creator who is a child (not unlike Nahida, but they certainly have more of a mindset of a child—). But was he expecting your chaotic behavior (explosives Klee Style)? Yeah...No.
Bro nearly thought you were held at gunpoint or tricked/manipulated into doing it until he realized you did on your own.
"...Your Grace...Please don't blow up the store again." So instead of protecting you from harm by others, Cyno is more focused on protecting others from harm by you. As much as he doesn't like to think of it that way, you were a lot more dangerous than any eremite or sand monster there was out there.
At least he's still doing his job, being the General Mahamatra! You gift him a flower crown, and he has to take it or else. :)
Tighnari
Since he works with many young forest rangers, and tutors Collei, Tighnari is probably used to dealing with children. Dealing with the Almighty Creator certainly wasn't going to be an issue under this Forest Watcher's eyes.
That was...until you blew up a rishboland tiger. By yourself. On your own. Without getting hurt.
He was not the only freaking out, mind you. Collei was losing it, and Tighnari? He's internally screaming and getting metaphorical heart attacks.
"Your Grace, what were you thinking, running off like that? I know you're strong and you want to protect everyone, but you can really hurt the environment and—" He tries his best to hold back his sassiness while he scolds you, considering some children are much more emotional than others.
He sets up some basic rules for you to follow to make sure that you respect the Avidya Rainforest grounds, but also protect yourself from any form of harm.
Bro becomes a helicopter parent while you're under his care. Have fun, and I hope you enjoy mushrooms. Collei will cook you something else if you don't like what Tighnari cooks, though. :)
Kaveh
This man. He will BUILD you toys. He will DRAW you stories. He may even tell you stories himself.
Mehrak is your best friend when you're around Kaveh. And that man tries his best to make sure your time with him is good. He also refrains from drinking, which is nice! He's improving a little! :D
Absolutely gets worried if you run off without him knowing or if you're hiding from him for too long while playing hide and seek. He goes into an utter MELTDOWN.
And if you blow something up? Boy, if you thought Tighnari getting metaphorical heart attacks was bad, think again—Kaveh might actually get a heart attack.
"Your Grace! What—What were you thinking? Where were you? What did you do? Why did I hear an explosion?!" He's trying to keep himself as calm as possible, but Kaveh is an emotional man. He's kind of failing—
Luckily, with your go-lucky attitude, you pull Kaveh around and take his mind off of work and your explosions! Win-win! :D
Al-haitham
The moment Nahida assigned him the task of taking care of the Almighty Creator, who is a child, bro is planning his things carefully. He is safe-keeping his books, he's renovating Kaveh's bedroom (bc yes), he's buying a few colouring books and crayons.
What he caught him by surprise was not how trusting you were to new strangers you barely knew. It was how you had fun with explosions and exploding everything in your path.
You can imagine as you're being carried away by the Scribe, he's giving you a one-sentence scolding.
"Your Grace, don't ever do that again, it's not nice." He would go into further detail, but he's sure you wouldn't care all that much about data and analysis and stuff like that, so he just ends it as it is.
You're still gonna do it, there's no doubt. It's just now Al-haitham is preparing for your next incoming attack as well.
Zhongli
Grandpa gramps is here woohoo! He's probably the most calmest out of everyone on this request list LOL. You can imagine he's following you calmly, apologizing and paying (through Childe's money cough) for the damages you caused.
Believe it or not, but it was Hu Tao who found you first and decided to take you to Mr. Zhongli for babysitting. He contemplates how the Director found you and brought you back.
The first time you explode something, he is definitely surprised. And concerned of the people who got hurt. You can't fault him for being worried for the mortals that were involved—Liyue Harbor is basically his child. Bro's been governing it for thousands of years.
"Your Grace, Little One, let's try not to put strain in the efforts of an adult's day-to-day life." He scolds you, and will definitely be more keen on your whereabouts, but he does this in a gentle tone. At the very least, you give him something to do that doesn't require him to present himself as the supposedly "deceased" Geo Archon.
Baizhu
With the guy's health issues...it's hard to say if he'll be able to keep up with you and your constant outings all around Liyue Harbor. Changsheng is definitely worried about Baizhu's stress levels as he has to figure out what you did this time and make sure no one was harmed.
He constantly has to ask Qiqi to go find you since he literally cannot keep up with your speed, lest he actually faints or something. You were that quick.
Luckily, if he hears of your whereabouts, he will definitely arrive just in time to apologize and give free check-ups to everyone involved in your explosion party.
"Now, Your Grace, please refrain from hurting others. It's not good to hurt someone's health." You can certainly expect Baizhu to give you a scolding—as well as a basic understanding of medical care in case either you or someone else will need it, and he can't make it there in time.
Like Kaeya (And Tighnari in this post), Baizhu will definitely write you some rules in a notebook and makes you recite them at least twice a day so that you remember not to hurt other people or damage your own health.
He is a doctor for a reason. It's his job to look out for others—even chaotic children with explosives.
Gaming
HAVE NO FEAR, GAMING IS HERE!
Bro is basically your Big Brother who does cool dances and gives you snacks and protects you. Since he's a real foody, you'll definitely know which places are the best to buy snacks!
You find his Wushou Dancing cool as well. He takes pride in it tbh. I mean, who wouldn't be ecstatic if the Almighty Creator loves it?
He does get a bit panic-y when he sees you blow things up, though. As much as he wants to pursue Wushou Dancing as his daily career, he still needs his job as a Shipment Guard.
"Y/N! No! Don't blow that up—!" Yes, he took you out once to travel with the shipment goods for one time, and he's never taken you with him again unless you promise not to blow anything that are near the goods.
He usually leaves you in Liyue Harbor when he's making these Shipment trips, but once he returns, you can certainly count on him to give you some tasty snack or a fulfilling dinner, as well as a free small Wushou Dance.
Big Brother Gaming does not disappoint!
Ghost Rebel Side Notes: I AM VERY DEAD. I AM SO SORRY SOBBING. Life hits you hard and fast sometimes sigh. I've been so busy I haven't been posting much—but rest assured, I have quite a lot of posts for you guys very soon!
✦ Check out The Ghost Rebel’s Blog Description & Info Page to See if Their Mailbox is Open! ✦
#genshin impact sagau#genshin sagau#self aware genshin#genshin self aware#sagau x reader#sagau#sagau genshin#yandere sagau#genshin cult au#sagau brainrot#sagau cult au#genshin imact#sagau alhaitham#sagau zhongli#sagau baizhu#sagau cyno#sagau gaming#platonic genshin x reader#platonic genshin impact#platonic relationships#sagau tighnari#sagau kaveh
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Incel! Gyutaro, but it's a modern western college! au and you whip him into shape real fast. My ex won't talk to me, so I'm very much fantasizing about a man that will be obsessive over me ---> gyutaro NSFW
CW// Fem reader / AFAB genitalia / Breasted Reader / INCEL MENTALITIES : Sexism, Poly Hate / BDSM dynamics/ Implied ED (Gyutaro is a gym junkie who should definitely be eating more) / SH / Men's Mental Health / Inconsistent POV because I'm writing this with my hand down my pants (I am joking)
PART TWO <-
-You go to community College with him. He's some fucking dude in your necessary math course they wouldn't let you drop. He sits next to you in the booths.
-He's not awful looking. He's got some weird scars across his face, but like, they're kind of artsy. They add a flare the guy would be lacking otherwise.
-His vibe is a little... weird. He doesn't talk in class ever. You see him around campus and he doesn't seem... at all versed in social interaction. You once watched him get into a fight, which was a little sexy, but since it was with Tengen Uzui, your eyes were much more interested in the latter.
-Gyutaro is used to that though. Never being the one looked at. Typical of women like you. You're always frothing at the mouth over fucking Chad's like Tengen- He got it. Tengen was built, strong jawed, and just reeked of sex appeal wherever he walked. He always had the glaze of one of those five sluts he hung out with on his lips-
-Tengen was lucky. He's apparently been training since he was young- to look like a Greek God and all. Gyutaro spent the first years of his life fighting to survive in a hospital, and then every year after fighting to live in his home safely.
-and girls like you- sluts like you were always going to favour Tengen. Always assholes.
-After that fight, you began speaking to Gyutaro. You didn't come onto the topic immediately- you didn't want to pry- So You'd mention his shirt.
-'Is that Death Cab For Cutie?' His heart dropped when you spoke. He didn't even register you were talking about his shirt.
-'Are... Are you talking to me?' He'd croak. His voice was quite nice. Soft, but low.
-'Yeah- Your shirt? That's... That's death cab for cutie, right?'
-'Y-Yeah.'
-As classes rolled by, you came to understand that Gyutaro was a very... disturbed individual. Aside from being generally jumpy and odd, his moral opinions specifically toward women were less than desirable.
-You came to know of his opinions toward Tengen as well. The level of insecurity dripping from every word was palatable... even through the venom.
-He called women 'femoids' and constantly tried to express that Tengen had been given a bigger genetic stick in life. You could never decide if he was referring to Tengen's dick or not.
-You were different, though, He'd assure. You always got what he was saying. Even if you were just letting him mindlessly ramble about his awful, borderline questionable mentalities.
-with said mentalities, you began to realize that Gyutaro was a very easy man. An incredibly easy man. Who was incredibly attracted to every woman he met- but especially you.
-'Gyutaro, have you ever slept with anyone?' You'd ask one day, on the way to the cafeteria. On the few days he chose that over the gym, he'd walk with you. You worried about him, occasionally.
-The question would visibly startle him.
-'I-No. I'm - ha- I'm not... Why?' He'd cut over his own words, face burning.
-'Just curious. You seem all cool, like you get around.' You'd melt a little at that prideful look on his face. How absolutely smitten.
-Maybe the power went to your head, but you began to seek little moments of affirmation from Gyutaro. You'd bend over, a little too close to him- The chronic porn addict. Knowing what it did to him.
-You'd always compliment his shirts- All of his bands incredibly main stream despite his insistence that they weren't.
-You remembered the noise he made when you grabbed his arm in class, once. The teacher had decided to round up the class grade- just barely passing you- and you turned and clung onto his arm, and it was almost like he choked.
-'Hey, Gyutaro, can I come over and study?' You'd pose one day. His face would turn red, a hand flying to his scarred wrist. He itched the skin off- almost always raw.
-'To my- my dorm?'
-'Mhm.'
-'My room isn't-' He'd pause. 'Why? What do you want?' His emotions would flit, unsure of your reasoning. You'd roll your eyes.
-'To hang out? You know? On the one night a week we don't have homework?'
-'Aren't you going to go... party? You do every other weekend.' You found the tang of malice on his tongue adorable. Irritating, but adorable.
'One, I don't party every week. Two, I think you'd be fun to hang out with. What, am I not pretty enough to bring back to your roomate? Am I not allowed in the great and powerful lord Gyutaro's room? ' You'd taunt.
-'N-no. You're pr- no I-'
-'Cool! You live in the good dorms, right?'
-Gyutaro did live in the good dorms. He was also very lucky to be in a one man dorm. Apparently his old roomate, Akaza, had moved out to join a frat.
-Not that you could tell it was a good dorm. The thing was filthy. It smelled like hell, too. Like Gyutaro.
-'I'm sorry for the mess.' He'd grumble. 'I get really busy...'
-'You're fine. Are you a PC gamer?' You'd point to his massive set up.
-'Y-yeah.'
-'Thats cool- ooooh, a Scott Pilgrim poster. I love that movie.' God, you just knew everything, didn't you? All the things girls weren't supposed to like. Gyutaro had been fantasizing about this very moment since you bothered to open your mouth at him. He guessed his work outs had been paying off.
-'Yeah its a good comic, too.'
-The conversation would sway too and frough. Not every really finding a groove. A girl in his room, and he could barely speak to her- you decided to take drastic measures.
-'Hey, Gyutaro, do you want to like do something? Like... a game.' You'd ask, turning to face him.
-'I- um- I have some two players-'
-'Not a game like that.' You'd laugh. He'd quirk an eyebrow. 'I'm like... horny. Like a party game'
-If you'd suddenly fired a gun next to his ear, the effect those words had on Gyutaro would've been the same. He gaped at your bluntness.
-'You're horny?'
-'Yeah... I want to do something... Dirty, I don't know.' You jerked the air off.
-'A-are you gonna leave?' He'd ask, sounding pathetic. 'Do you need me to leave?' What a dumb question, he realized, the second it left his mouth. This was his home, why would he let you jerk off-
-'Do you want to watch? It'd be rude to make you leave.' You completely understood the absurdity of the words coming from your mouth. Every word made Gyutaro's face twist into something akin to... excited disgust. It was fascinating.
-'W-watch?' He didn't understand why he stuttered so much around you.
-'Yeah... Watch? We don't need to like- play like... strip poker or anything. I just want to do something raunchy.'
-'We-we're not dating. You should do that with your boyfriend.'
-'Gyutaro, you know I don't have a boyfriend.' You'd remind. 'Are you scared?'
-'I'm not scared- I-'
-'We're adults. We can do what we want.' His traditionalist mindset was wanning by the word. He wanted you something awful, and here you were, offering to... touch yourself infront of him-
-He'd been leaning on his bed, and you began to creep forward.
-'Do you have any toys?'
-'You mean like vibes?' If his voice wasn't cracking, it was dry. Painfully so. 'I-'
-'Any you haven't put in you?'
-'I'm not into that.' He'd defend. A lie. A painful lie at that. 'I-'
-'Into what?' You'd bring your hand toward the edge of his shirt. He'd begin shaking under your touch. 'No bandaids over your nipples?'
-You'd been so kind and casual to him thus far. Always appreciating his bands and asking about his games. You're eyes had never even fixated on his birthmarks- He never expected you to actually like him-
-'I-I'm not some... some freak.'
-'You think I'm a freak for being into that?' His heart would ache at the sigh in your voice, guilt growing in his stomach as your hand left. 'Sorry, I guess I'll just go back to my dorm.'
-As you turned to leave, Gyutaro would scramble off the bed, eyes blown wide. His foot would knock into an empty can on the floor, and He'd probably tip over some of the comics on his nightstand.
-'Wait-wait!' He'd step over a pile of clothes, and begin rummaging around in the drawer behind his bed.
-His thin hand would come back with a small pink vibe- attached to a thin white wire. You could barely fight back the evil grin on your face as he resurfaced, face just as pink as the vibrator.
-You feigned needing help onto his bed, just so he'd pick you up and set you there. His tenseness was comedic. As you fully situated yourself, Gyutaro just stood, hands in his pockets-
-'Well, come on?' You ushered, nodding to the space between your legs. Gyutaro looked to the spot and then back to you.
-This couldn't be real. You couldn't be fucking real. Even as you spread your legs infront of him, revealing your dripping fucking pussy-- it could not be fucking real. It was too pornographic. You couldn't be serious- Any second you'd snap your legs shut, realize how fucking disgusting he was- how worthless and weird- and you'd spit on him, get up, and leave-
-But you didn't. You pressed the vibe to your clit and Gyutaro watched in awe as your pussy clenched around nothing. Begging, pleading for a cock to fill you, just like all the forums said it would.
-You swore you heard him whimper- gasp- Feeling all powerful under his watchful eye. You were very pleased to find he was bulging through his sweats, a small wet patch already forming.
-He wouldn't be able to get over how fucking wet you were. How good your pussy responded to the vibrations, how good you looked when you craved dick-
-'You should... Your hard on looks like it hurts.'
-Fuck, everything hurt. Your voice made his balls ache, begging for release. He didn't want to cum so early- Didn't want to be a minute man infront of you.
-You wanted him to cum early so bad. His dick had already soaked through his sweats with pre- you knew you could get him worse.
-'Gyutaro, can you- Can you finger me?'
-So fucking cruel. So fucking evil-
-You knew he'd be no good. Too rough and fast, but to your surprise, he shook his head. Very admant.
-'Why not?'
-'I- my hands are gross.' He'd whisper. The poor thing sounded close to tears. He wanted to finger you so bad, but he was all to aware of the cracks and scabs along his knuckles. 'I don't want to get you dirty.'
-'Do you have gloves?' You were surprised by the desperation in your own voice. Fuck.
-'L-like latex?'
-'Mhm'
-Gyutaro had cleared the bed and rush to his bathroom, yanking the gloves from the medicine cabinet. You heard the faucet start, and then a crash and a bang-
-And then Gyutaro was back infront of you, one hand covered with a glove. And he smelled like cologne. You held back a laugh.
-He shivered at the way your pussy sucked his finger in. And then a second not even a minute later.
-'It hurts... You should get on top of me. It'll help.' You reasoned.
-Gyutaro watched you with wide eyes as he bent down next to you, the curve of his wrist allowing him to begin an all too gentle thrust into your pussy.
-His face was right by yours, drinking in the sight of you growing heavy eyed and huffy with awe.
-He picked up his speed. Fuck- you were a real doll, alright. So fucking perfect. All for him. All his- you were his, he decided, deluded by the intimacy of the situation.
-You weren't going to be allowed to go anywhere with any other man- ever again. Nobody else could see this. Nobody was going to see you cum other than him, make you cum, other than him.
-'You keep going just past it-' You'd groan with frustration.
-'Past- What?'
-'I need you to- my g-spot you keep hitting everything but it-'
-His face would turn bright red at the critique.
-'Your g-spot?'
-'Of course you wouldn't know what that is.' You'd snark, reaching down to grab his wrist. His jaw would tighten as you began to guide his hand in and out of your pussy, back arching as he grazed a textured part of your walls.
-He felt like a dildo, an object for you to chase your high-
-Gyutaro came before you, his free hand rushing to try and prevent it, but you'd feel him shiver and hear a soft-
-'Fuck- fuck!'
-And you' look to see a wet patch on the crotch of his sweats. It looked like he pissed himself, the stain starting at least midway down his thigh-
-You imagined such a gigantic load being forced past your cervix. His cock had to be huge- fucking huge- with enough cum to spill for days after.
-'I'm-I'm cumming-' You'd squeak as the vibrator paired with Gyutaro's shame sent you spiraling. His head would snap up to watch-
-You'd leave with nothing but a thanks, and a small comment on how he needed to clean his room - The look of shock on his face borderline second orgasm worthy- He'd already gotten hard again. He wanted to go- wanted you.
-But he'd get a text from you later that night. You'd be at a party- like he knew you were supposed to be.
-'Lol' would accompany a photo of you in a slutty little dress next to Tengen Uzui and those three bimbos always by his side. It would dock his confidence, send him spiraling- panicking-
-But it'd be there...a thin little wire peaking out from between your thighs.
-You'd send him your address and hope he'd have the balls to do something about it.
#demon slayer x reader#demon slayer smut#upper moons x reader#upper moon smut#gyutaro x y/n#gyutaro x reader#gyutaro smut
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[SDV] "Sins of the Guilty"
Summary: SDV Bachelors lusting over the nun that's recently come to visit Pelican Town Warning(s): Not proofread, Sacrilege of nuns, Sub!Sebastion [Reader is kinda a dom in his part], Sebastion doesn't have active sex with the reader, it's only imagined, I kinda favored Sebastion's part ngl, Dom!Shane [The usual lol], This is the filthiest thing I've ever written ngl, Elliot is the king of making readers squirt fight me on that, Elliot is a simp low-key, Bachelors loosely follow the plot of the verses, Unprotected sex [Wrap it before you tap it folks], Pure filth, Porn with plot. Word count: 8,285 wordsSide note(s): Inspired by the fact that- I like nuns and priests man. Going to religious schools all your childhood will do that 💀. Also, sorry for not including all the bachelors. I mostly wanted to focus on those who I think would struggle the most with being presented with a pretty nun in front of them cause it's more fun that way pfft.
MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ
Shane - "Hopeless Sinner" 1 Peter 5:8 - Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour.
♡ - Never in his life had Shane been a religious man.
Too much had happened in his life for him to even consider the possibility of a god, and even if there was such a thing? There was no way that they'd look down favorably upon them, especially with all the sins that weighed down his soul.
And he had a lot.
He was a drunk, he could hardly keep his eyes open half of the time. It was common for him to stink, absolutely reek of alcohol and past missed showers and he far too commonly let his alcoholism get him into frequent situations that he would only come to regret the next day. And to add to that list of sins? He wasn't exactly a people person.
He was rude and curt, saw people as an annoyance and treated them like such. He wasn't open to hearing people be kind to him much less try to suggest ways to change himself. The only time he felt semblances of happiness was when he was with his niece and even then? Those times were fleeting and brief, all because of his aforementioned addictions to the bottle.
And...despite all of that, all those troubles...he wasn't intent on changing.
In his eyes? He was a lost cause, too far gone and there was no point in expending energy on something that was damaged. And he only doubled down on that ideology when rumors began to circulate that a nun was going to visit the town for a little while. He even made it a mission to avoid any places where you could've possibly been at!
The last thing Shane needed was some old woman lecturing on the goodness of Yoba and the sins that came with drinking. How that "he wasn't too far gone" and that he could be "saved", all if he just believed and dedicated himself enough.
At least...until he saw you in person one day outside Pierre's shop on his way to get some cans of beer.
. . .
"You must be Shane, I'm Sister Y/N. It's a pleasure to meet you!"
It was like the entire world paused for the briefest of moments.
Just enough for him to truly take in your features the moment he saw you, right in front of Pierre's shop no doubt.
Your smile alone could have chased away the darkest of storms and replace it with a sun that shined as much as your eyes did. They were as wide and big as a dog looking up at its owner, he thought. As if you were expecting some type of praise or reward for greeting him with so much enthusiasm. You were slender-figured but graced with long legs, your skin appeared smooth and your lips were pink and full. Yet as Shane looked back down, he was shocked that you weren't wearing a long black dress like he had thought nuns wore but...shorts-
"Shane? Are you alright?"
"Huh? Y-Yeah...I'm fine." He cleared his throat. "How in the hell do you know my name anyway?" He continued, surprised when you didn't flinch at his rude tone.
"The Church made sure to brief me on people's faces and names before I came to visit!" Of course they did…though, he didn’t know whether or not to complain at this fact or to allow himself to silently be happy in a way. After all, it wasn’t everyday that someone cute knew his name off the bat, much less greeted him with a smile that didn’t have badly hidden disdain or disgust behind it.
“Anyway…” You cleared your throat. “You should come to service this Sunday! It’ll be my first one in the valley and I’d love to have everyone there, I-if possible of course.”
He clicked his tongue.
At the very most? He’d think about it.
“Maybe,” Then, he walked past you.
. . .
After the two of you first met, Shane tried avoiding you the rest of the week until Sunday passed him by.
But though be was successfully avoiding you physically, mentally was a whole other issue as no matter what he did? No matter how much alcohol he drank, you’d always find a way to squeeze your way into his thoughts. When he cringed at his own smell at times, suddenly he’d would be hit with a wave of grace as he remembered the smell of your light perfume. It was even beginning to infect his dreams.
Dreams that…were far more pleasant as of late.
In his dreams, you’d sit with him and talk out in some meadow somewhere. Perhaps you’d go on and on about the book of Yoba all the while you steadily inched closer and closer to him before you’d place a hand on his arm. Your chest touching him as your sweet words grew more sensual, forgoing the talk of holiness to instead invite Shane to touch you through your clothes.
But before getting to the good part?
He’d always wake up, left with an aching hard-on and his alarm screaming at him to get ready for work.
That was the first and possibly the only time that Shane began to believe that there may have been such a thing as "The Devil". After all, why else would he suddenly have these thoughts of someone who just arrived in town a few days ago? Especially someone so out of his league?! Also, the two of you only met once and you probably didn't even remember his name!
But after the fourth time of waking up, his own brain once again blue-balling him?
He knew he had to see you in person.
Even if it was just to hear your voice again.
. . .
So, the next day, he went to the shrine of Yoba where he knew you'd be.
And the second he knocked on the door, you responded with a gentle "Come in" before he stepped inside. And...he couldn't help but feel like a black sheep amongst all the holy symbols and the gentle sound of a religious choir playing from a phone, suddenly, the paranoia of Yoba knowing about Shane's unholy imagination of you began to glare up. He felt as if he was going to burst into flames as punishment for daring to offend a sacred place with his presence!
Once he had turned a corner and saw you sitting on a pew, facing the statue of Yoba however...all of a sudden, he was calm and he remembered why he was there.
He simply wanted to confess his sins and have someone hear him out.
"Shane?" You said as you turned around, a smile immediately jumping onto your features. "I thought that was you! It's easy to recognize grumpy voices in this town."
He rolled his eyes.
"Can I help you with anything? What's going on?"
When he opened his mouth, he realize that he didn't have a single clue about how to admit that he wanted to confess his sins. Especially when those sins revolved around you (not that he'd ever dare to say that part out loud). "I uh...want to confess my sins."
Your smile grew. "Oh? Please, sit." You scooted over on your pew before tapping the space next to you.
Obediently, he sat down but a considerable distance away from you. His hands started to sweat and shake, how was he supposed to confess that you were the source of his sins?! How was he going to tell the pure nun of the valley that he was struggling not to masturbate to you defiling yourself on his unworthy cock? The imagination of your moans combined with the image of you begging him to fuck you against the shrine of Yoba plagued his mind. And what's worse?
He didn't feel an ounce of guilt for it really...he just wanted to be around you. Be it fuel for the mind or something more, he just didn't know.
"...Something tells me that you didn't come to confess." You spoke breaking the silence and snapping him from his thoughts.
His heart dropped to his stomach. Did he do something to give himself away?
"How do you-"
"I've been doing this for a while, you tend to pick up clues." You chuckled. "So tell me, what's really going on? I'm a good listener."
The moment you turned around and looked at him, his breath hitched in his throat as his dream from the night prior suddenly flashed in the forefront of his mind. Your pretty pink lips soaked and glistening from your spit whilst you panted heavily like a bitch in heat, practically for him to do something to you, anything to you. Already, he started to feel his cock twitch inside his boxers, causing Shane to quickly clear his throat and look in front of him.
He tried to think about anything else to keep himself from getting hard in front of you.
"...I've been having weird dreams." He finally admitted. "Dreams that aren't...good."
You hummed to yourself for a moment before you responded. "Like..."I may do something awful" type of bad or another type?"
"Lustful." He muttered.
Like the flip of a dime, it felt like the atmosphere in the room changed.
"You've been lusting after someone?"
He nodded his head.
"Who?"
"Does it matter?" He said snappily, eliciting a chuckle from you.
"Don't be so snappy, I like a bit of gossip as much as the next person..." You scooted closer. "Though, if you've been struggling with these thoughts then...the correct thing for me to say as a nun is to suggest you to stop. To be tempted by the flesh is a sin, your thoughts should never be focused on such things."
Finally, Shane forced himself to look at you, fully expecting you to look at him with some type of reprimanding disgust in your eyes but...he was shocked when he found nothing of the sort. You looked at him like a tiger would eye a piece of prey. "But...?" Shane said.
"But, I as an individual say that you should pursue this person. Who knows, she may like you."
Now that made him snort, there was no way that you would like a drunk like him. He was certain of that. "I'm the town drunk, why would she— you like me?" He decided to be upfront, to which you met his words with shock for a moment before you offered him a simple smile in return.
"Nuns have needs too, and who said this had to be a permanent thing? I'll only be in town for a few more weeks, all your sins will simply...wash away, stay between us, once I leave."
It felt like his dream was becoming truer by the second. Only...you were naughtier than what he originally assumed based on your appearance, but it added to the charm, and with each sugar-coated word that fell from your pretty lips, the further his mind slipped into depravity and what he wanted to do with you as he felt his cock chub up against his thigh. After all, when was the last time he'd gotten his rocks off? His right hand and his brain could only stave off the longing for a real tight cunt for so long!
And as he watched you start to lift your dress and slip your panties down your legs.
He immediately took the plunge.
. . .
"F-Fuck!" You cried out as your legs were spread, Shane on his knees as his lapped at your cunt like a man-starved.
And he might as well have been.
He felt as if he had been in a desert for months and had finally spotted an oasis, your slick upon his tongue was sweet and dripped from your pussy like a nonstop faucet, something that he wasn't going to dare let go to waste as he alternated between tongue-fucking your sex with his tongue and moving onto sucking your clit whilst his calloused fingers plunged in and out of your weeping hole.
And you couldn't get enough of it.
"Sooooo d-deeep...." You whined as your eyes started to roll into the back of your head.
Shane's resolve would've snapped if he hadn't been so focused on both eating yu out and prepping you to take his leaking cock, the sound of you, a nun sounding so fucked out and horny...practically crying out for his tongue and fingers made him rut into the air to try and alleviate the tight feeling within' his pants.
"S-Shane...I'm- I'm cumming-" Your high-pitched whine suddenly died on your lips when Shane stopped pistoning his fingers in and out of you as he stood and shredded his clothes.
"No you aren't lil' slut, you'll be doing that on my dick." He grumbled, his hands practically shaking from how eager he was to get inside of you before he finally freed his dick from its confines and lined himself up to your entrance, his hand coming up to press against the middle of your leg and push it till it nearly touched your chest.
Your mouth opened in a wide O at the size of him, causing the man to chuckle.
"Never had something this big in your pussy?"
You unconsciously shook your head but, your pussy nonetheless twitched in eagerness for the man's cock. Despite Shane's eagerness though, he made sure to be as gentle as he could be with you as he gently pressed his mushroom tip against your hole, the feeling sending a rush of electricity over your skin at the feeling of a cock touching your pussy.
It was strange and...it felt hot. Hotter than what you expected it to be.
Shane gripped his cock at the base before beginning to press his tip against your hole, steadily inserting it into your hole before thrusting forward a little as he steadily filled you. The man groaned at the feeling of your wet walls clenching onto him, almost as if you didn't want to let him go despite you possibly being the first man you've ever been with. "L-Loosen up..." He whispered, already feeling a knot begin to form and tighten in his stomach.
It seemed he hadn't been laid longer than what he originally thought. It took ever ounce of Shane's strength and will not to fuck you like a toy, to be as gentle as he could be until he was certain you were ready to be fucked into the pew like you were begging him to when he first started to eat you out.
Then again, you weren't going to last long either as you had just recently had your orgasm denied.
"Y-You're too big..." You whispered, trying to relax your cunt like instructed to but it hardly seemed to do anything at all. You moaned when you felt Shane's cock twitch at your words, a cocky smirk crawling onto his stubbled features as he leaned closer to you. "I'm big huh?"
You nodded your head breathlessly, a moan tearing from your throat when Shane finally bottomed out inside of you, his hips pressing against your ass whilst he tightened his grip on your leg to keep you from trying to escape the stretch his dick gave you.
"J-Just fuck me..." You hissed, shooting a glare to try and chase your denied orgasm. And the man gladly did as you wished, slowly pulling himself out of you before suddenly slamming back into you, almost knocking the air from your very lungs before he immediately went into a harsh and brutal pace. Shane almost had a mind to tease how you looked, your lips flushed and lips wet from your shared salvia from your earlier kissing session.
Your moans were loud and unbridled, to the point where even he was worrying about whether or not your slutty moans would attract unneeded attention to the shrine!
But as his balls slapped against your ass, the sensation in combination with your cute moans only served to make his balls tighten in anticipation of his impending orgasm. "Oh Yob, r-right there!" You yelped out when Shane suddenly positioned himself to fuck into you deeper, his cock slamming into the deepest part of you with each thrust. Shane then moved his hand down from its position on your leg to your hips, using the leverage to pull you onto his cock as he threw his head back to let out a drawn-out groan.
"Fuuuuccckkkk..." He moaned, his mouth hanging open before he lazily looked back down at you, smiling at your fucked out expression as he spotted drool beginning to dribble out from the corner of your lips.
At that moment, his thumb reached to wipe the drool from the corner of your lips before plucking the digit into his mouth with a smirk at your taste. "Can't believe how lucky I am...Yoba must be real," Shane snickered. "I get to fuck one of his cute lil' slutty nuns...especially one that doesn't know what to do with herself when presented with a real dick in her cunt." He continued as the need to fill you up grew with each thrust.
You nodded stupidly, Shane had an urge to kiss you but...your moans sounded too good for him to risk messing up his position and ruining your pleasure that was causing you to cry out so abashedly.
"C-Cummin-" Your climax hit you like a freight train as your body suddenly went rigid. Your cunt spasmed and clenched impossibly tighter around Shane's cock like a vice grip, nearly making him stutter in his movements as you came around his cock. "Y-Yoba-" He hissed, sucking in his bottom lip as he leaned forward a little at the sheer pleasure your spasming cunt brought him.
Shane only managed a few more thrusts before he spilled into you, his stomach clenching and his body stilling as if it were putting all its remaining energy into filling you up.
A breath he didn't even know he was holding released when he finished and looked back at you. Your gaze was unfocused as your cheeks were flushed red and spit trailed down the corners of your lips.
"Oi, you with me?" Shane said as he pinched your cheeks together with his hand, gently shaking you to try and snap you out of your daze.
You could only respond with a soft moan before you looked at him but not at him. He chuckled, he would accept it for now. He just needed to get you dressed, after all...he definitely wanted to discuss if his confessions with you could be a regular thing, at least...until you left of course.
Elliot - "Forbidden Desires" Proverbs 6:25 - Do not desire her beauty in your heart, and do not let her capture you with her eyelashes;
♡ - When Elliot and you first met. It was on the beach of all things.
Out on the wooden pier that overlooked the ocean. Frequently, the writer would visit here to collect his thoughts for his writing and try to find inspiration from the gentle waves that crashed lightly against the pier and beach alike. Yet it was when he turned his head to the side briefly, the world suddenly seemed to stop on its axis.
He thought you were gorgeous.
Baked in the backdrop light from the sun, he nearly thought you had a halo on your head. Glowing with your holiness that made all the features on your face that much softer, like the way your hooded eyes looked out across the water almost longingly as if you were beckoning for a wave to come and carry you somewhere else. How pieces of your hair escaped your veil and blew with the sea breeze along with your dress.
The longer he admired you quietly, the more he thought you were an ethereal spirit, completely unaware of how you were tempting him despite your outfit telling him that you were the sister that the town had been expecting for about a week now. It was your job to be a role model as to how not to sin.
Yet...he wanted to do the opposite- "Are you going to keep looking at me, or will you say hello?" Your voice snapped Elliot from his thoughts before he finally noticed you were looking at him with a curious but soft gaze, a smile gracing your features when you saw how his cheeks began to tint red.
"E-Excuse me." He said as he stood up and dusted himself off. "I was just in shock, I wasn't expecting the long-awaited nun to be at the beach."
As the two of you stood side by side, he noticed how you were shorter than himself. "Oh," You said. "Did I interrupt your alone time?" You smiled.
Elliot smiled and shook his head. "Oh no, I don't think you could ever do that." He responded, your mouth hanging open a little as a blush of your own started to coat your cheeks. It was then that Elliot quickly cleared his throat and tried to find a way to apologize. It seemed like he wasn't himself, his thoughts kept coming out before he could fully think about whether he could say them or not!
"Sorry, I'm not trying to make you uncomfortable."
You then turned your body fully to face him. "Oh, you're not doing that. I find your forwardness charming." You were dangerous for Elliot's heart, the way you looked up at him made his mouth dry while equally making him feel as if he were floating amongst the clouds. Up until you caught his attention again with a laugh. "What's your name?"
"Elliot," He answered immediately.
"Y/N." You responded. "It'll be hard for me to come to the beach with my duties and all...you should try visiting the shrine in the Pierre's shop. I'll be there most of the time."
"How long will you be staying in town?"
"Two weeks." He struggled not to immediately frown at that answer, all while he simultaneously struggled to not throw a curse at Yoba for making him feel this strongly about one of his devoted followers. Elliot could be frank with himself, he knew that you would be in his every waking thought from this point onward. All he'd think about is how to get closer to you, get to know you and so much more!
"I hope you'll enjoy your two weeks here then sister." He finally said.
"Oh, I'm certain I will." Then you turned to walk away, your faint perfume tickling Elliot's nose as he was left along with his thoughts, his thoughts settling on the newfound fact that you were his muse.
All of a sudden, his inspiration to write came to him like rushing waves during a typhoon. Stories of how a man fell into a forbidden relationship with a woman, or perhaps a shorter tale of how a man falls in love with a spirit, someone he longed for but knew he couldn't ultimately have. Yet, as all the thoughts flew through his mind. One thing was for certain, you left him with a burning ache in his pants.
. . .
Later that night, he admittedly felt slightly guilty for palming himself over his pants at the thought of you. The pretty nun with the soft voice and heavenly features, although Elliot tried not to think too hard about your words from earlier, to not misunderstand how you phrased your words or how you looked at him as a signal for something more...the image in his head was far too addicting to let go so easily.
The thought of you bouncing on his cock while he sucked at your breasts, planting kisses all over your body as you moaned for more...was it wrong of him to have those thoughts? Then again, surely you knew how you sounded when you spoke to him on the beach! You sounded like you were interested in him! That you may have wanted to pursue something more with—
"Ah...look at me," Elliot murmured to himself, running his fingers through his hair as he scoffed at how ridiculous his thoughts were.
You were a nun.
You were just being friendly!
What he was doing was wrong. To think about a holy sister was potentially one of the greatest sins (at least, to what he knew about the book of Yoba).
Perhaps he needed Yoba more than he realized.
. . .
And that’s what prompted him to visit Pierre’s shop three days later, specifically where he knew you’d be, the Shrine of Yoba.
Elliot’s plans were simple, to confess his sins, receive your judgement and advice, then leave. Of course though, he’s leave out the part where his thoughts revolved around you despite the fact the both of you hadn’t known each other for that long. But once he was standing right in front of the door that would lead into the shrine…he felt like his entire body had frozen in place.
Were you actually a nun or secretly a demon? He thought.
No person should ever have power over another like this. But the moment Elliot’s nerves loosened up a little, he quickly knocked a few times on the door before a gentle “Come in” could be heard from inside, causing him to walk in before he immediately saw you getting up from your kneeling position at the shrine.
You smoothened out your clothes and then looked at Elliot with the same angelic look you gave him the first time you met him. “Elliot?” You said. “You came.”
He nodded his head, keeping his head down just long enough in an attempt to ease his blushing. “I figured I was overdue for confessing my sins.”
“Don’t be silly,” You chuckled. “We all come and confess our sins when we’re ready, there’s no pressure.”
It was easy for you to say, he thought.
You weren’t the one who was losing sleep over imagining the naked form of the person you just met. And as Elliot walked to sit on one of the pews, the more he couldn’t help but think that this may have been a bad idea. Although your attire was similar to what you wore on the beach, he didn’t know if his eyes were tricking him or not but…your clothing appeared…tighter.
Around your chest to be more precise and it was driving him nuts.
He silently begged Yoba that you wouldn’t come close enough to where you’d be able to spot his steadily growing hard-on. And thankfully, you kept your distance via sitting on the pew just in front of him with your back turned.
“Now, you may confess when you’re ready to begin.” You murmured a quick prayer before clearing your throat as a sign you were attentive and listening.
Elliot sighed. "Sister, I've been...well- I've had unholy thoughts as of late. Thought that revolve around a woman that I'm infatuated with."
When you didn't say anything in response, he continued.
"She's the most beautiful woman I've ever been blessed to see. But it would be wrong for me to pursue a relationship with her."
That was when you spoke. "May I ask why?"
Elliot's throat bobbed up and down at the question. "She's a nun."
The silence that followed was so loud that it nearly rang in his ears. Yet, as you turned around to face him, his mouth immediately fell open to apologize until a certain glint flashed in your ears as you looked at him with a smile, a finger tugging at the collar of your uniform.
"And...what do you want to do with this nun?"
"I want to kiss her." At his confession, it was like a string had broken before you and Elliot's lips crashed together. In the writer's mind, it was as if your lips were meant to be with his own, the taste of your mint-flavored lipstick addicting to his tastebuds as he felt around in your mouth. Your breathing became heavier, pressing yourself as close to Elliot as you possibly could despite the pew that still separated the two of you. "What else do you want to do to me?" You panted when you both separated, your breaths labored and heavy as a single string of spit still connected you two.
Elliot silently eyed the rest of your body.
"May I show you, sister?"
. . .
Had you known the man you met a few days ago was capable of this. You would've fucked him right then and there out on that wooden pier.
The position Elliot currently had you in was making you see stars and galaxies behind your eyes, your legs spread out on his lips as he held you tight against his form, almost as if he were afraid you'd disappear right before his eyes whilst he fucked up into you like a man on a mission. Each thrust making his cock assault your sweet spot deep inside you, you felt as if your organs were molding and reshaping themselves just to better fit Elliot's cock.
"Y-Yoba's name..." He whispered hotly against your neck, pressing wet open-mouthed kisses against the side of your neck and all the way down to your exposed collarbones from him hastily pulling down the front of your dress. "Y-You're so tight-" Elliot grit his teeth together as he groaned against your skin.
However, each time he fucked up into you, the sound of your sexes meeting reverberated throughout the small area of the shrine as your slick poured down from your pussy to pool and coat the front of Elliot's thighs, you were starting to...feel something.
A certain coil beginning to tighten tighter and tighter by the second in your stomach.
Compared to the orgasms you've given yourself in the past, privately when you were in your room or in an area you were certain was vacant of other people. This one was more intense and threatened to wash over you with such a force that you worried you'd pass out from the intensity! But, it was hard to voice such a worry when you were being fucked to the point that you couldn't utter a single syllable, to where you nearly had a mind to forgo this life and simply be the plaything of Elliot for the rest of your days.
"E-Elliot...!" You keened as you wrapped your arms tighter around his neck, Elliot's thrusts somehow growing even more ruthless as he tucked his face into the valley between your breasts.
"Shit..." You managed to hear him breathe out.
Your mouth steadily started to form a large O shape as the coil inside your tummy tightened more and more until it finally burst.
Suddenly Elliot stilled his movements to raise your dress higher to witness the wetness that flowed from your pussy like a fountain spewing water, his mouth dropping in shock whilst the lust inside his eyes grew at the arousing sight of your orgasm spewing from your cunt and splattering onto his thighs.
He was only snapped from his trance when he heard your fucked-out moan and your hand tap his shoulder.
"Truly, you are the woman of my dreams," Elliot said with an equally fucked-out voice as if he were the one who just came. "Do that again." Your eyes snapped open as you tried to quickly voice your protest but not before your words were shooed from your lips when the writer fucked up into you again, resuming his previous pace before he gently leaned you back, his hand resting on the small of your back to keep you steady whilst his other went to lift your leg higher so that he had a better view of your cunt.
The squelching noises were like a symphony to his ears.
But all he could think about was you squirting again.
The pew you both sat and fucked on was already dirty...defiled.
It didn't matter to defile it some more.
"Please, squirt on my cock again," Elliot begged. "Will this help my dear? Don't hold back, please." Without a single word of warning, the hand that held your leg up dived down to rub quick circles on your clit with his index and middle finger.
"F-Fuck! Elliot...baby, w-wait- you're going to-" Your entire body shook and convulsed from overstimulation as you struggled to keep your head and thoughts straight, moans falling from your lips shamelessly as you could hear Elliot's raspy moans and throaty groans, the sexy noises only serving to make you clench around the writer's experienced fingers.
Elliot took your pussy getting tight as a sign you were close once again, causing him to speed up both his thrusts and his fingers as they rubbed side to side without abandon on your clit. You tried to cry out for him to slow down, to give you a short break but your moans fell on deaf ears as Elliot only silenced you via fucking you harder to the point your moans took the place of the words you wanted to say as he abused your cunt. "Ahhh...." You moaned in pleasure as you felt something begin to well up inside you again.
"E-Elliot- f-fuck...." You couldn't do anything else but whine and beg, his name slipping from your lips repeatedly as his fingers on your clit sped up whilst he rose you forward a little to plant kisses along your breasts.
"Don't be embarrassed my dear," He whispered against your skin. "Just cum, I got you...please." At the sounds of his begging, that earlier feeling of a coil beginning to tighten started to nearly grow unbearable inside you, your eyes barely staying open as you allowed your body to take all the pleasure your eager lover was bestowing onto you.
"Oh, Yoba...fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck-" Your body once again grew rigid as Elliot's eyes darted to where the two of you were connected, his eyes widening as your pussy clenched onto him tighter than before as a clear liquid squirted out from you and around his dick. Upon seeing that sight, he wasn't too far behind from his climax, managing a few more hard thrusts before his head dropped forward a little as he moaned.
The two of you sat in silence for a few minutes, trying to catch your breath until it was you who broke the silence as you steadily rose your head and slid your hands to rest on Elliot's shoulders with a soft moan and a dopey smile. "You know..." Your voice was hoarse as your hand moved to catch Elliot's chin under your hand before you tilted his head back to make you look at him.
You pressed a chaste kiss to his lips, a sweet lovesick moan leaving the writer's lips before a smile slowly came onto his lips. "We should do this again."
"How..." Elliot took a moment to further catch his breath. "How long will you be in town?"
"Couple of months, we can discuss about this being a regular thing as well as...you possibly taking me out on a date next?"
He couldn't think of anything better.
Sebastion - "Hungry Recluse" Genesis 2:18 - Then the Lord God said, “It is not good that the man should be alone; I will make him a helper fit for him.”
♡ - He had heard about a nun coming to the valley when his mother brought it up at dinner a few weekends ago. And back then? He didn't have a mind to care really.
He was a recluse.
He had nothing against religion but he preferred to stay away from crowds. If a nun was to come to the valley then he was more than certain you would bring a crowd, preaching about Yoba and the likes and he respectfully wanted no part of that.
So, imagine his shock one night when he was outside his home smoking. Only to spot a nun doing the same.
"A nun, smoking?" He nearly choked on his own cigarette. His words catching your attention before you cursed under your breath before you dropped your cigarette and quickly stomped on it with the heel of your shoe.
"Goddamn it..."
He scoffed. "And you curse too?"
You rolled your eyes. "If you're going to snitch to someone, do it now." As Sebastion stared, thinking about how much he wasn't going to snitch to anyone (after all, he believed it wasn't his place nor did he feel like anyone would believe him should he have wanted to do it). He couldn't help but think about how...well, how pretty you looked.
You sported a more roguish look to your uniform compared to what he was originally thinking you'd look like. Clean outfit with a bright smile, maybe a hand carrying a bible or the cross of Yoba perhaps. Instead? One side of your dress was bunched up, exposing quite a considerable amount of thigh as well as the black stocking you wore underneath, and the similarly colored boots that would've typically been hidden underneath.
Your make-up was gothic and you had a septum piercing along with a couple more piercings on the outer edge of your right ear.
And if he was seeing things right...was that black nail polish on your fingers- "Are you going to keep staring?" You said bitingly.
"Sorry," He apologized, quickly looking somewhere else. "I just didn't expect the nun to be-"
"A sinner?" You interrupted with a heavy sigh.
"Different." He finished his sentence.
You clicked your tongue. "Yeah well...that's what you get when you're an unwilling member of the church." You spilled.
Now he was really curious about you. This entire time, he had expected a goody two-shoes sister who would rave on and on about Yoba anytime that they could! Or maybe even some old hag as old as Evelyn was, nagging and constantly haggling people about converting and praying more to Yoba.
But instead? The town received neither.
Only you.
And he was absolutely enthralled by you.
So much so that he found himself unconsciously walking up to you before he cleared his throat. "Do...you want to talk about it?"
"I'm not looking for pity if that's what you're-"
"I'm not trying to pity you." He interrupted. "You just seem to be in need of a confessional as much as anyone else." He shrugged, his words sparking a chuckle that sounded like a melody in his ears.
. . .
And that was the beginning of you and Sebastion's relationship.
One where you two would meet under the guise of night every other day after you had finished your "performance" during the day of playing the innocent nun who wanted to spread the word of Yoba. Something that Sebastion quickly learned was nothing but complete bullshit. The two of you would rant about your lives and how much you two wished you could change things.
Whether it was from Sebastion's dreams of moving away from Pelican Town and into the city, to you ironically praying to Yoba that he'd give you an outing from the church.
The one day you'd be free.
"...Why are you stuck in the church?" Sebastion had asked one day, lighting your cigarette before his own.
You blew a puff of smoke before sighing. "Mommy and daddy had unresolved debts and issues." You said. "To pay 'em off, they got rid of me." You continued.
"Now I wear this damn get-up and play "Good follower of Yoba"." You mumbled a few curses under your breath afterward, ones that made Sebastion snicker under his breath as he considered your situation. Although obviously different, the similarities in your stories were eerily similar. The two of you longed for another life, felt as if you didn't belong in the current one you both lived, and, as much as you both could, you tried to actively change that.
But...where Sebastion could easily pack some things, get on his bike, and head for the city.
You didn't have that luxury.
"Why don't you move here?"
"Unresolved debts remember?"
"I know but...there's a lot of abandoned places here in the valley. We even have an abandoned farm not too far from here. You could live there."
"My cage would be no different then, just a new window to look out of."
A small smile crept onto your features when you spotted an apologetic frown appear on Sebastion's face. One that made you flush a little as his cheeks appeared puffier and cuter. You appreciated being able to talk to him, more than you'd ever be able to convey but...you weren't looking for sympathy or solutions to escaping that only involved you living a life on the run and in hiding.
In truth? Being asked by the higher-ups to visit this small town, meeting Sebastion?
It was as close to a blessing from Yoba as you'd ever get.
Back home, you were a glorified maid if not eye candy for old men. You'd clean for them, cook for them, bring them drinks...it was such a dull life. You hadn't even been able to go to college. You couldn't even do most math but you could damn well recite random passages from the book of Yoba.
You hadn't nor would ever be able to find love!
All talks of boys and falling in love were strictly forbidden, seen as nothing more than a gateway for potential sinning, something you'd eventually learn was nothing but complete hogwash as there were plenty of times you've seen your fellow sisters open their legs for priests when it pertained to the topic of being able to get away with some things. Here in the valley though? You didn't feel that pressure.
You liked it here.
You liked...well, you liked the people. They were nice.
"You should be happy here Sebastion." You said, breaking the silence.
"You have a good life here, it may not be the one you want it's the one that's the best path for you at the moment."
Sebastion rolled his eyes. "Easy for you to say, you don't live here."
"Maybe, but I'd need a million more fingers in order to count how many situations are worse than this." You sighed. "After all...you never know, one day you may find yourself liking it here. Life is funny like that." At those words, you placed a gentle hand ontop of Sebastion's for only a brief moment before you got up and walked away.
An act that only served to leave Sebastion's heart skipping beats and...strangely upset.
. . .
And he must've sat outside for an extra thirty minutes before he finally went inside.
Dinner tasted bland, and all of a sudden Demetrius' snide remarks and insults didn't even make him turn nor lift his head to briefly glare! All Sebastion could think about was you.
You, you, you, you, you.
He didn't know what sounded weirder or more pathetic.
Him chasing after you like he was in some chick-flick, exclaiming how he wanted to be with you despite only knowing you for going on close to a week now. Or if he said that you were the only person in this entire town who seemed to understand him! The only one who made him truly happy aside from the small yet rare-found joys in his life! He could introduce you to his friends, Sam and Abigail, he thought you'd get alone well with them.
Maybe you could teach Sam to play new songs? He remembered you mentioning how you knew how to play the guitar a little. Or maybe you could simply be another girl added to the group, someone for Abigail to hang out and talk with.
As Sebastion sat on his bed. His mind further diving into his racing thoughts that concerned you, so many situations revolving around the question of 'What if?' that he could barely keep track of them all! He wondered then about what if you'd be another addition to the farming community here. If you would actually take over that abandoned farm.
What would you grow, would you be good at it or would you only prefer animals like Marnie?
Or...maybe you'd be something else?
A writer like that one guy who lived at the beach with Willy.
Or maybe an inspiring somebody like himself or Sam?
Another member to the Adventurer's Guild perhaps?
He considered it all but the one scenario that made his heart strangely ache the most was...if you were with him.
You made him smile the most out of everyone here. Sebastion enjoyed your curt personality that blended well with your shockingly soft tendencies. You were pretty and when your lips weren't covered in dark lipstick, they shined a surprisingly glistening red. Your eyes were the most gorgeous underneath the moonlight ad your figure (if he couldn't guess from the first moment he met you) was something that made his jaw drop every single time.
Suddenly, there was a throb in his pants at the thought of what you'd look like underneath your clothes.
But no, even if you stated you didn't want to be a nun.
He'd give you the respect all the same. He wouldn't dare to do anything inappropriate with your face in mind. It wouldn't be right.
. . .
But oh...did he think it would feel so right.
It wasn't a bad thing to touch himself to the thought of you, was it? You weren't there and so long as you didn't know then technically sin would have ever been committed! At least, that's what he comforted himself with as he furiously jerked himself off underneath his covers, breathless moans leaving his lips as he imagined it was your hand stroking him off rather than his own.
And as he did so, he swore he was more turned on than he ever had been in his entire life.
He imagined you were wearing your dark lipstick as your hand went down to massage his balls, your lipstick leaving smudge trails up and down his cock as you flattened your tongue to trail along the prominent vein that ran on the underside of his cock. Yet as you did so, you kept a firm eye on him as you looked at him through your lashes.
"You must've been so pent up Sebby..." His cock twitched at the nickname. "Waiting for me to do this to you, you must've been thinking about this since the day we've met. Huh?" A whine left escaped him at your words, his vision beginning to blur from both pleasure and growing embarrassment as his cock began to leak more and more pre.
"Not going to answer~?" You purred. "That's okay, you seem to be way more talkative down here than with that mouth of yours."
"P-Please..." He whispered.
Your smirk grew as your hand quickened in its pace, your face leaning in closer to his to the point he could almost imagine your breath gently blowing on his face. "Please fuck me..." He moaned. "R-Ride my cock, j-just do something more with me."
"Such a good boy~"
As you sat up, you licked the tips of your fingers clean from his pre as straddled him to where your pussy hovered over his cock. He twitched at the feeling of your heat, his eyes glued on your dripping pussy before your finger tipped his head to look back up at you. "Keep your eyes on me." You ordered before swiftly pressing a kiss to his lips. A choked-up moan escaped Sebastion's lips when you suddenly sunk yourself onto him. Your hips immediately started a fast pace that made his eyes roll into the back of his head.
Until you suddenly slowed down. "W-Wha...?" He said dizzily, looking back at you. "Why-"
"Eyes on me Sebby~ or what? Is my pussy too good for you to listen to me?" You suddenly slammed your hips down, Sebastion's hand gripping the bedsheets with a loud moan before you resumed your original pace. "You should be following what I say more diligently than this Sebastion" You pouted. "A holy nun is giving you her untouched pussy, the least you could do is look at her~"
"Y-Yes!" He moaned. Tears flowed down the sides of Sebastion's face as he kept his eyes on you, the sounds of his balls slapping against your cunt echoing throughout the room as a familiar knot steadily started to appear in the pit of his stomach. His cock twitching inside your warm pussy as the feeling of your walls nearly drove him to insanity.
Your moans, your face contorting in pleasure as your hands roamed up and down his chest underneath his hoodie. Everything about you made him want to exclaim just how much he had developed a crush on you, something that he wanted to take farther rather than just simply have sex with you. Yet, as the heat in his belly turned white-hot, his moans sounded closer to wails as he begged to cum.
He had to remind himself that this wasn't real.
You weren't even here.
Something that was slapped into him the second he felt his cum pool over the top of the hole he made with his hand rather than feeling it fill you up.
"Y/N..." He moaned as if you'd magically appear before him.
Tomorrow, he would definitely confess his feelings. Religion be damned, he knew that he wanted something with you.
#stardew valley#stardew farmer#sdv#smut#stardew#stardew elliott#stardew shane#stardew sebastian#stardew valley sebastian#stardew valley elliott#stardew valley shane#sdv shane#shane x farmer#shane x reader#elliot x reader#elliot x farmer#sebastion x reader#sdv smut#stardew smut#stardew valley smut#stardew valley x reader#stardew valley x farmer#thisispureunholysacrilege#smut writing#pure filth
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"🙋" + favorite thing to annoy Vincent with
Send "🙋" + any headcanons you want to know about my muse.
Accepting | Open
That was a good question, one she wasn't entirely sure she had an actual answer for, she had employed various tactics, mostly with help of Marlene, but Vincent always seemed mostly unphased by any of it. "Honestly… the day I figure out I've actually managed to really annoy him with something, I'll let you know."
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Astro Observations/Opinions (Tropical Edition🫶🏾🫶🏾)
Hello Guys! Since I have done a vedic edition observations, I now want to do a tropical astrology one. I apologize if I confused anyone with my vedic one, i’m not too well versed in it buttt I AM WELL VERSED IN tropical astrology though hehe😈
These are my opinions/observations so LOVE IT OR HATE IT😋😗
Anyways let’s get started
1. Scorpio moons at their worst are FUCKING CRAZY. like extremely obsessive, extremely closed and narcissistic and just overall painful to be around. y’all can lowkey suck the life out of everyone lol likeeeeeee no joke. I have met many scorpio moons that are hella abusive but I know that’s not the majority. Other wise y’all are great to be around but baby as a Leo moon I CANT KEEP dealing with moon square moon synastry 🥺
2. Sag moons are sooo fickle and flighty like it’s not even funny. THEY WILL TELL A PERSON OFFFF but sometimes they be fake as hell. Very adventurous and THRILL SEEKING and they honestly put themselves into situations that are harmful just for the thrill of it. Very wise but sometimes their wisdom goes RIGHT out the window when it comes down to it.
3. Aries suns and venus placements can be veryyyy selfish imo. Like they are super independent but bc they are they really care less to think about others when achieving certain things. But are very understanding when you come to them and are very willing to listen. It’s kinda like they want what they want and they will do anything to achieve it despite the cost, and like GIRLIE POP GO OFF but at the same time u gotta be considerate of others. But EXTREMELY LOYALLL to their loved ones absolutely!! I love y’all and love y’all FIESTY energy.
4. I’m sorry but debilitated and fall mars (libra and cancer mars) have wayyy worse anger issues than ur normal scorpio/aries mars. Like they hold shit in and they are very passive so they won’t tell u did something wrong but they will be snarky and passive aggressive as hell to let you know and like BABESSA U CAN TELL ME NO NEED TO BE PASSIVE AGGRESSIVE ASFFF. Maybe it’s bc i’m a libra rising and mars in the 1st and 10th are just hella aggressive for no reason sometimes. My ex would randomly yell at people for the wrong reasons (he was a libra mars) and tbh i kinda don’t care for it like. (btw i’m a pisces mars so HEHEHE i can be passive aggressive as well so i def need to learn how to have boundaries but as people can’t handle scorpio or aries anger, i can NEVER deal with a libra or cancer bc imo they blow shit out of proportion all the fucking time) understandable as to why but idk that’s just my experience
5. Saturn in the 3rd house when they are upset with you they can be so demeaning at times. like when you don’t know something they are the types to be so unconsciously demeaning and kind of rude at times. ( like for instance if you were to ask them a question about a topic that they know they willl look at u and respond to u like ur dumb asf like 🥺🥺🥺🥺) they are very smart tho and they sometimes feel like they aren’t but like U ARE BABY DONT LISTEN TO THE OTHERS THAT hate on ur intelligence like y’all are very smart but can also be passive aggressive at times 💀
6. Scorpio Venus or having Pluto in the 7th house YALL ARE SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO CLINGY!! I love it tho for others that love it but y’all are veryyyyyyyyyy possessive (like if someone looks at y’all’s partner y’all prob imagining ripping their throat out like LMAO i understand tho). very loyal to their partner and can sometimes unhealthy dedicate all of themselves to them and nglll me don’t care for that but i understand bc y’all become so consumed with them bc of how intense y’all love and I LOVE IT but baby also have a life of ur ownnn lol (most of y’all do but sometimes y’all don’t) but y’all lowkey hypocritical tho sometimes imo
7. Sage and pisces literally are the ONLY ONES (other than scorpio maybe) imo that can do high dosages of drugs and wake up and be okay like ????? IM SO JEALOUSS bc i have virgo in my 12th and when i get high i get really paranoid and anxioussss so but with y’all having either in the 12th or even calm signs like taurus and fire placements imo y’all are built different like LMAO i loveee that for y’all tho
8. Capricorn moons aren’t cold at all lol they are very much crybabies like cancer moons, if a cap moon isn’t being emotional towards u then maybe they don’t feel safe enough yet or maybe they don’t consider you close enough to them (no shade). They are like scorpio moons tho imo when they at their lowest they can be hard to be around but YALL ARE SO MATURE AND i hate that for y’all like be reckless i know saturn may get u karma but sometimes y’all LIMIT yourselves so fucking much like baby you deserve the world. Look at the world in a scarcity mindset (unless it’s money or if they have fire placements ehh they not so scare thinkers)
9. Virgo placements are extremely shamy imo. Like they are very critical at times and they will SHAME u if ur doing something that isn’t “common sense” in their eyes. like baby i know u didn’t have the space to make mistakes without critical advice but at the same time do u really have to be shamey towards everyone else? but tbh they are the true leo’s in disguise and ABSOLUTELY give them their flowers bc acts of service means so much to them and the most mainstream people have virgo placements (attention to detail is so critical which is why they thrive and succeed) but y’all kinda use that as a scapegoat to be very shamey and critical towards others. I have a love and hate relationship with y’all lol 12th synastry 😭😩
10. IN REGARDS TO 12th house synastry, it’s so ass. Like THE PERSON U SHARE IT WITH WILL COME IN UR DREAMS AND BE ON UR MIND FOR NO FUCKING reason and for someone who takes a little while to move on from things (fixed dominant LOL but i’ve gotten a lot better) BABY I DONT NEED YALL TO BE IN MY DREAMS. lowkey i feel like 12th house synastry people lowkey get under ur skin for no reason and if that’s so imo it’s either because they are acting or responding in ways you do as well and is afraid to admit bc y’all mirror each other or it can genuinely be resurfacing things that remind u of things and trigger u (i feel like that’s the 8th house synastry ofc bc 12th house is hidden fears and repression so i’m kinda assuming it would be the same with the 12th lol hmu if you have other opinions😋😋😋🫶🏾)
last one hehehe
11. Libra placements please stop being people pleasers BABY ONCE U CREATE BOUNDARIES FUCKKKKK how others feel bitch bc when u don’t tbh y’all get super resentful and tbh who wouldn’t. libra placements really are only nice to keep the peace and to be likable but either or libra y’all will have haters regardless so instead of fearing it y’all should embrace it more. Remember the saying that if u don’t have haters u ain’t living in ur truth (ITS A 50/50 STATEMENT TBH it’s true but not being used in the sense of being problematic) but y’all can’t please everyone so instead of giving yourselves the headache, let go of the notion that if your liked everything will be okay when it’s not. and wanting to be liked and keep the peace isn’t a serving attitude it’s kinda selfish bc we’re really doing it for ourselves more than others (IM SHADING MYSELF HERE but i know y’all can agree but that doesn’t make us bad people we’re just flawed asf). BUT BABY GROW A BACKBONE ONCE YALL DO OMFAGSGSGSGSGSGS y’all are so fucking unstoppable and serve cunt energy hehehe
That’s it for tropical! Hope y’all like it!
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FEED ME
SUMMARY: You ride Astarion's thigh and he lets you drink his blood. That's it. That's the fic. It's horny as all hell.
PAIRING: Ascendant Astarion & Spawn Female Reader
WORD COUNT: 1,519
WARNINGS: 18+ sexual content, thigh riding, praise/degradation, orgasm denial (if you squint), penetrative sex (reader receiving), blood sucking, spit kink, allusions of religion.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Honestly this is just so gross I apologize I literally have no excuse other than I'm going to hell probably. :')
MASTERLIST
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Patience has never been your virtue.
In fact, it’s something you’ve sorely lacked your entire life, believing you deserve to be treated in a timely manner regardless of circumstance. Because of this, it often feels like an uphill battle when you’re forced onto Astarion’s thigh, dripping with sweat, begging for release as you grind against the fabric of his trousers.
“Patience, pet,” he always says, holding your face —tightening the grip he has with rough fingers that make you whimper at the thought of your own prolonging.
Every time, you have to fight the urge to clench your jaw and grind your teeth. To showcase displeasure in the face of God as he graces you so slowly and intimately. Allowing you to pant against his chest and lock your arms around his neck as he trails soft patterns into your flesh.
Deep down, you know it’s a gift. To be able to touch him in any sort of way is an act bestowed. An act meant to be cherished, so you wait. Telling yourself it’ll be worth it in the end as you listen to the whispers that flutter against your ear.
“That’s it, keep going.”
His voice is like a hymn. Every verse of instruction, spoken like a blessing, forces you to hold your breath and shift your weight further against his leg. Feeling the pressure build so slowly you can’t help but whimper in frustration, you hear him laugh. The reverb of his torment rattling against your aching hands that gently thumb his throat, seeking more.
Barely above a whisper, you beg. Pleading through the desperate buck of your hips, you ask for indulgence. For absolution. For him to pity your starving cunt as it continues to brush against him, unable to pass that final threshold.
All he does is laugh again. The wicked tone piercing your flesh like a knife as his fingers dig into your hips, forcing you further down. “You’ll get what you’re owed,” he tells you then, grinning —bearing his teeth tauntingly. “Once you take it.”
At that point, it feels like he’s punishing you. Forcing you to take penance —to perform your devotion in a way that he enjoys.
You’re not sure you’ll ever understand it. Why he does the things he does. Why, without fail, he prolongs your needs to feed and fuck —to feel him fully firm inside the walls of your sex.
Even now, as you try to distract yourself from the agonizingly slow speed at which you ride his thigh, feeling him give you that little extra push as you grind further down, all you want to do is lean forward and sink your teeth into his flesh. To suck the wound and lap away the crimson blood that’ll pool within your mouth.
It makes you hungry just thinking about it. Starved. Filled to the brim with every desire he so effortlessly dangles in front of your face. As if you’re a malnourished dog and he’s offering himself like raw meat.
You lick your lips and think of what he might taste like. How his blood compares to that of the people he feeds you. Would it be warm and sweet like honey? Would it thicken against your tongue, allowing you to savour its flavour before it slips down your throat? Or would it feel more like a cool glass of water? Refreshing and light —easy to gulp down?
“Mm, I see someone’s getting a bit hungry.”
A part of you wants to narrow your eyes to showcase your displeasure, but you don’t dare. Instead, all you do is close your mouth, realizing how slack it is as a pooling of spit collects at the corners.
It makes you embarrassed. Feeling the drool that slips down the edge —watching as he reaches to wipe it away with a huff, calling you pathetic. Telling you that only good girls get their fill.
“I won’t give you what you don’t deserve,” he says, leaning in, staring into your eyes as they instantly twitch away, averting their gaze as your mind begins to shift. Focusing on the feeling of your core, aching with heat as you tremble through distracted movements still thinking of his taste.
Feeling you falter, he forces you to look at him again. Gripping the bottom half of your face, his nails dig into the plush of your cheeks, commanding you to keep his gaze.
“Look at me,” he says.
There’s a force behind his words that quickly reminds you of the position you're in. That despite being physically above him, in all other cases you’re actually far below. Lower than the dirt he walks on, meaning you shouldn’t take this moment for granted.
Realizing this, you nod your head against the placement of his hand, feeling it loosen ever so slightly as you take a deep breath, preparing to move. Jutting your hips forward, you then start with languid motions.
Getting the feel for what you like, you test out different weights, dropping your hands towards the top of his thighs to further support yourself. As you do, you feel Astarion’s hands begin to slide out of their original places. The one on your hip moves to cup your ass while the other, still remaining firmly on your face, begins to stroke your cheek. As if to further coax you through the snapping of your pelvis as it starts to rock in place.
Both gestures work to encourage you. Somehow, despite their subtleties, you feel the support they offer each time you grind against him, feeling that imaginary band begin to pull further apart. As he palms your backside, giving it a little rough tap here and there, the only thought behind your eyes is that of his prior instruction.
That you need to take to receive.
Pushing your hands further into his legs, you let out a heavy breath that quickly tails out into a moan, making him smile and stroke the base of your cheek so lovingly you almost whimper in response. “That’s it, darling, keep it up.”
You nod, unable to form coherent thoughts as your folds brush against the fabric; the texture serving as that extra push you need to keep yourself going. To motivate the motions as you push and pull, feeling it continuously build until your mouth is split open again he’s ripping you off of him.
It leaves you disoriented, being quickly tossed to his other thigh ass first, watching as he palms the fabric that rests over his cock before allowing it to spill out.
Once it’s on full display, you look back up at him with such desperate eyes that you’re almost surprised when he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you back, praising you all over again. Telling you what a job you’re doing as he maneuvers your legs around his waist and begins to slide in.
It’s slow but smooth, the way he slots himself into you. Immediately, feeding you a piece of that hunger you crave, you’re rewarded with a quiet hum of approval as you rock your hips against him, feeling the way he juts inside in response.
It leaves you breathless upon impact. The weight of your torso leisurely bouncing on his cock, forcing you to wrap your arms around him again. Almost instantly, they take hold of his throat with the crook of your arms, allowing him better leverage to push you up only to pull you back down as he grunts through each movement —groaning as you provide him with enough impact going down to hit that spot that has you twitching around him.
By then you’re both moving in perfect tandem. As he offers you your earned pleasure, you begin to moan his name in prayer, repeating it as a thank you for his benevolence.
In response, he smiles through a heavy breath and maneuvers his wrist to his lips, never breaking eye contact as he drives his teeth into the base of the flesh, forcing the blood to enter his mouth before he reaches for your chin.
Once he’s had his fill he presses a thumb to your lips, applying the smallest amount of pressure as he continues fucking into you, watching with bated breath as you open up wide for him, granting him the access he needs to feed. To take your cheeks in his hand and angle your head back so that he can slowly release the blood into your mouth.
As soon as it hits your tongue you can feel yourself become sated. While he drives himself further, snapping his hips in timed sessions, you can barely focus on the sweetness of his taste. How it tickles your tongue going down but still manages to ease all the previous aches of hunger.
Looking up at him, you smile with blood stained teeth, deliriously laughing through the final pumps before both of you are coming together, twitching against each other’s flesh as presses both hands against your spine, willing you to have your fill as he offers you his neck, continuing to fuck you through your orgasm.
-
@poohxlove @gaiasmight @sassy-stupid @novarex @v-gremlin @sapphiccloud @lipstickghoulie @kuroitsukyo@jjfchk@idiotsatan@bluestuesday@bloopthebat@art-by-greenie@heneralmoon@sukunababe@dreamingaboutyousworld@ranfithegood@haniscrying@liadamerondjarin@the-lake-is-calling@marina-and-the-memes@rookieoftheyear@zraloci-cpr@kaetmo@snickerdoodle-daydream@wowowwild@d1anna@raswiet@conniesbbymama@venus-wrts@demonicthorns@kihten@deadglamsheep@sanscas@spammypasta@leighsartworks216@rose-gold-blue@p1ssmagg0t@hellish-writes@ghostinvenus@otayz@sexysquatch@sleepyeclair@colorful-anxieties@alina-exe@ilana-the-lasagna@lillifer@girlwiththepapatattoo@y2cade@acelin-ginsberg@pinkuranium@catrad0rable@scarletrosesposts@qwnamidala@itsrosebabe@bunnyperi@queenofcarrotflowers-s@tatumadams20@spkyxszn@chlort@f3v3rs@awkwardwookie@joy-the-reader@warm-milk-with-honey-blog@vertigocrime@iyis@wildpiper@pebblethestone@tillywasneverhere@bex-03@kaetmo@revemiya@staticspouse@itzagothamcitysiren@djarinsmixtape@when-the-night-came@epicy0n@bababahannah@sleepyred1703@lotus-99@lofcompass@r4d10h34d5@vampninjaz@itsmekalou@offbrandhand@yikes-buddy@konenichi@rainonarden@oceanbluesixeyes@bodtyworship@maydayitsjay@greasyslimebucket@yeeteth-the-raven@fantasyfairysworld@allexthakatt@flowersaretheshit@morglyne@thespectacularspaceace@cephiss0@use-your-telescope@furblrwurblr@kloverfield@angelofthorr@writervaul-t@starved-kitten@minixluvr@crowley--aziraphale@sapphicwren@alionera-blog@jennithejester@dezedrol@thisisew@saladalpaca@applepiewithbacon@httpbiohazard@aurasyn@nerdoodles@kingpinthedevil@itzkawaiix@domainoflostsouls@silverskylan@uminootome@helpidkwhatimdoingwrong@deadlyinfernos@blackbirdswhispers@sarahskywalker-amadala@writingmysanity@f3v3rs@jayjones03@quietlyebbie@optimisticprime3@eyes-for-daze@sunnytalia3@megoshh@maddiedott@cappsikle@mostbeautifulnightmare@lynnlovesloki@simpytheshrimpy69@astarion-archive@smaranshakthi@autistic-deer@shadowfeart@freckled-petals@candied-lavender@hp-art-studio@ghouligan@satelliteapotheosis@waywardwitch-hel@pandimoostuff@mythoughtsofinsanity@ilovelovelylove@oneandonlyizabelle
TAGLIST NOW CLOSED!
#feed me#astarion#astarion bg3#astarion fan fic#astarion smut#astarion x female reader#astarion x reader#astarion x you#ascended astarion x spawn reader#summer writes
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Vessels x GN reader!
Gaming with the Vessels ~ Headcannons.
Under the cut <3
Vessel considers any time spent with you, quality bonding. You two could be arguing and he’d still consider it bonding time because youre together and throwing words at each other. So when it comes to gaming, oh boy is he ready to shut the world out and spend this time with you. Vessel is a big gamer nerd HE HAS CONFIRMED THIS HIMSELF and being able to share this love for it with you is so unreal to him. He will get all the snacks. He will get all the fun drinks. He will make a fucking fort if you want it. He’s fluffing all the pillows and getting all the soft blankets you two have and wrapping you both up in front of the tv. He’s so excited for this he’s shaking. He will play whatever you want to play, however you want to play it. He doesn’t care in the moment, he just likes that you’re here with him and you’re enjoying something together.
If you like to play co-op games his little character is following your character around everywhere. Exploring maps and completing quests together. He probably takes screenshots of your characters standing close together because it’s you and him in another universe, and they’re in love in that one too. It’s all laughs and smiles all night. He shows you his favourite games and he lets you show him how to play yours. He will go into deep deep detail about the history and lore and theories surrounding his beloved games. Gushing about them and about how they were made and the mechanics behind them, it’s lovely listening to him yap about the things he loves. All while being so snuggled up impossibly close under layers and layers of blankets and in your comfiest clothes. It’s always fun gaming with Vessel. And it always ends in you both conking out with your controllers in your hands because you don’t want to call it a night. You’re slumped together, you’ll probably wake up with sore backs from not sleeping right, but neither of you will care because it was fun.
II gets competitive. He will deny it with his last dying breath, but the truth comes out the moment you turn on something as simple as Mario Kart. He acts all chill and nonchalant about it, trying to prove to you he isn’t competitive, but it takes a total of about 10 minutes before he’s jumping up from the couch to get a better hold on his controller, because that helps for some reason. He will absolutely stand in front of you so you can’t see the screen. He will slap your controller out of your hands and on to the floor. He will push your face into a pillow and hold it there so he can get ahead. And don’t even get me started on his celebrations when he wins. He’s jumping in the air and he’s screaming his victory. He needs the whole street to hear he just won apparently.
His attitude switches right up when his controller dies mid game though. He’s yelling at the damn thing like it just ruined his life and he’s rushing to snatch your controller from your hands so you don’t win either. One time he got so panicked he was about to lose he turned the console off. He got in big trouble after that. But still swears up and down he’s not competitive when it comes to games. You have to force him to play some cozy games with you. To settle down and enjoy a slower night with you. But even II would turn something like minecraft into a challenge. Who can build a better house. Who can build it faster. Who can find diamonds first. He’s a pain in the ass to game with but he makes it interesting every time so you can’t complain. And it’s nice to give him pouty kisses when you get your hands on a full set of diamond armour before him.
III is a big gamer as well, is well versed in first person shooters like COD. He’s the one who seeks you out to sit with him while he plays. Pulls you into his lap on his desk chair and keeps you close while he literally obliterates every single enemy that comes at him. He’s a bit of a show off about it. Makes sure you’re watching every time he wins a round or does something cool. He likes to explain the game to you as well. What every button does. What the point of the game is. What he wins if he completes certain achievements. What each icon means. You’ll know that he’s completely zoned in when he goes quiet. But not without pulling you closer to him first. He rests his chin on your shoulder and plays his game from behind you. He’s in his element like that. His favourite human in the world watching him play his favourite games. He considers you his lucky charm because he kills it every time he’s got you like this.
Nearly throws his controller at you when you ask to play a round. He’s so excited. He explains everything to you that you know you won’t remember. But he holds his big hands over yours as you hold the controller and presses your fingers into the right buttons to properly show you what they do. You might not be as good at it as he is, especially for your first time playing whatever game it is, but he praises you so well for everything you do anyway. You might die about five hundred times before the round ends but he’s scooping you up and telling you that you did so well and you’re already so much better that the game than he was when he first picked it up. Know secretly know you’re not, but it’s clear his pride lies in getting to share this with you. Teaching you how to play and watching you have a go and trying to learn something he loves, just makes his heart want to explode. He’s smothering you in kisses every time you do anything. Later that night you hear him talking to IV over his headset, gushing about you and how well you did earlier. He’s just so proud.
IV looooooves to indulge you. You wanna drag him to the couch and show him all the cool things you did on your favourite game? He’s right there listening to every word. You want him to show you how to play his favourite game? He’s wrapping your pretty fingers around the controller and guiding you through each button as you go. He likes playing co-op games the most with you. Enjoys it when your in game characters look like you two, makes sure you know your characters are also dating. In every single game. No arguing. You two have matching controllers as well. You each bought controllers in your favourite colours and then swapped the joysticks so he has yours and you have his. Now you have his favourite colour on your controller and vice versa. He likes knowing there’s a little piece of you with him even if you’re not playing with him that day.
Should there be a game you play, in which your character gets flirted with, you’re banned from playing it. The second he catches wind of it he’s pulling you from your game and making excuses to keep you off it. Refuses to let you play it when he’s home, but likes to hide the game from you when he isn’t home. He’s a big sook about it. Tells you that he can just flirt with you in real life, no silly character from a game can do it better than he can. Which is very true, but also, you have to remind him this person is pixels. There’s no need to sook about it. He pretends to gag if he hears whatever this character is saying, bans you from speaking their name in your home. Will absolutely make his characters look big and strong and sexy so his character can protect your character. Will make snide comments about his game character being way better. It’s funny, so you laugh about it all the time, but IV will always love gaming with you.
#idk I’ve been playing a tonne of minecraft recently and wanted to write about gaming with these guys#sleep token#sleep token fanfiction#sleep token x reader#vessel x reader#vessel sleep token#ii sleep token x reader#ii sleep token#iii sleep token x reader#iii sleep token#iv sleep token x reader#iv sleep token#Mary’s headcannons
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🤠🫶:
I am CACKLING like a cartoon villain oh my GOD you are a genius!!! Of course the toxic king breaks his back of COURSE he does the fucking idiot (affectionate), so there's fuck-all he can do with reader's big announcement that this was all worth it and he can totally get some...yknow, in a couple months. AHHHHH. And she just wanted to give him something to look forward to, motivation for the physical therapy <33 (she boops his nose while he lays there wishing for death and cowering from her, of course she does, omg. i love them your honor!!)
and maybe she gets more confident now that he can't fucking move 💀💀 (lmao, oh god. König if you weren't such a menace this would have been easier for her a lot earlier and nobody would be in this situation) and maybe this leads to way more sensual touching from her on her own initiative; she's curious, after all, and she does like him a lot and she's just trying to help him get better, you know? and König eats that shit up, starts telling her all about these itches and sore muscles he can't reach, could she be a dear (trying to act like he's not literally begging for her touch) and then he basically blacks out the first time her hands linger and drift, but probably better that than the things he was going to say to her. So König wants to die, this is too much, he's done, he's a goner each time she visits him. and damn her, she's a devoted little thing, never misses visiting hours. Always so sweet and caring towards him and it's the perfect image of a faithful, doting housewife without the wife or the house or the sex part of it lmao. And of course he can’t move when all this is happening!!! so basically just more torture and his mind just kind of breaks into little tiny pieces held together by demented lovesick lust-filled fantasies. he says some absolutely filthy things (makes the cunt licking look family friendly in comparison), he can't control it really anymore, and poor reader is shocked/horrified and blushing furiously, but thinks it's the medications and the pain and whatnot, tries to be understanding, only chides him once she gets her shock under control (and he's actually stone cold sober the entire fucking time lmao, but he ain't telling her that, she'd run if she knew).
AND THEN MAYBE~~ (dun dun dun) one day reader is FINALLY reaching under the stupid hospital bed blanket - he can feel her soft little fingertips and carefully manicured nails travel down his abs, trace the V of his hips (my man is going to black out again, good lord) and she's looking at him with big round eyes and she's nervous she's going to do it wrong and he won't like it (as if), and it's taking FOREVER for her to get her hand between his legs bc sweet little thing just wants to do it right, and he's out of his mind, half-crying, whisper-begging at this point (it's probably not even English, not German either, just mindless pleas). Her hand FINALLY wraps around his length and he's lucky he doesn't cum right then and there; she's blushing so violently at taking a man in her hands for the first time and she's seeking HIS approval with those pretty doe eyes as she bites her lip. So of course that's when there's a knock at the door (the universe hates him, he's going to scream, whoever this is is lucky he can't move and they might die anyway from the blast radius of sheer rage) and a doctor comes in for daily rounds. Reader barely has time to yank her hand back before doc sticks his head through the privacy curtains and yep our man's heart might actually just stop, he is just going to keel over right then and there.
so not even a handjob for our poor king <3 if he doesn’t die (lol) he transfers to in-home care IMMEDIATELY and finally gets reader to himself in a more private setting where he can lock the fucking door. this is the part where I look away lmao, I'd leave him blue-balled & suffering forever ...am i a mean person?? also RIP to that doctor. this verse is so hilarious & wonderful and i love it, feels like a tug of war between tropes and genres if that makes sense which results in your delightful genius works, thank you thank you <333
This is so beautiful. I am puddle & I can't thank you enough for collaborating & I LOVE YOU Howdy anon 💋 and um, I think I got a little too excited about their first time lol oops (I can't leave him blue-balled forever! Poor man would die of heart failure 🥺)
(Tamara and Demon (1864), Mihály von Zichy)
Word count: 3.7 k
CW: 18+ NSFW. Corruption kink goes brrrr. Masturbating, dirty talking, obsessive/yandere König. Awkward handjob. First time/virgin!reader. Kinda sweet and fluffy 🩷 Also coersion/mildly dubious consent, tread carefully!
A/N: You can find the story of König x virgin!reader and their relationship so far by following the tag (könig x virgin reader)
Oh she visits him alright!
She’s much braver now that König is bedridden and can’t move. They actually spend more time together after the weightlifting accident. The intense stares haven’t gone anywhere, he's actually gotten worse in that department, but otherwise, König is behaving quite nicely.
He seems to like it when she reads to him next to his bed, which is immensely cute in her opinion. Armed with a new book in the crook of her arm, she’s on her way to visit him again for another session.
She's already accustomed to simply floating in after giving his door a light rap. She's also gotten used to the sight of guns and knives and the smell of army storage, even the manly, pungent stench of sweat that lingers on top of it.
But it’s not the potpourri of masculine military scents that stop her at the door and nearly make her drop her book.
The King himself is lying naked on the bed – well, naked except for the bag of a mask he seems to hold on to like it’s his soul. This time, she doesn’t even see it: her eyes fly straight to the towering erection he’s stroking, urgently with one hand while the other cups a pair of shaved, pale balls.
"König…?"
The man who calls himself King curses – in German or in English, she can’t tell. The sight of him there, caught red-handed on touching himself, only makes her feel sorry for him. König has nowhere to run and hide, nothing to cover himself with, he's not supposed to even move yet. And he is not the one who should be embarrassed, after all, she's the one who barged in on his privacy.
Although… König doesn't look embarrassed.
He only looks drunk and sweaty and in need.
She thinks about turning back and leaving him with hurried excuses because what the hell is she supposed to do…? Read him a book? He is still gripping his cock like it’s a sword or something, breathing like he just ran a marathon.
And speaking of swords, that weapon is far too big for her... Hell, she doesn’t know much about swords but she would deem that sword far too big for any woman.
If she were clever, she would run away from that stare and that huge, monstrous cock. But she’s not that clever, that much is clear because everyone she’s told she’s dating König have warned her about him. Every cell in her body is warning her of danger, but she keeps running back to him, over and over again…
Well, at least he can’t move, she thinks, takes a hesitant step, and places the book down on a table. Just when she’s about to whisper some calming, soothing words to this beast, the beast speaks.
"Take your clothes off," comes a husky command from the bed, and she freezes with her fingertips still on the cover of her cute little book about German fairytales (she knows König likes his fairytales bloody).
Normally, she would make a scene out of such audacity. She might even storm out of the room and vow to never speak to him again for daring to talk to her like that.
But…
He looks so desperate. König looks like a giant bound for torture on that bed. And he's not the only one who has been tormented these past few weeks… The incident at the hospital has plagued her dreams every night as she has tucked herself in with the memories of König's… sword.
Perhaps it would help with his pain if she offers him relief in his time of need. No harm can come from that, surely. She doesn't know how exactly taking her clothes off will help, but if that is his wish, then it’s the least she can do.
To her and his surprise, her hands drift to the hem of the top she’s wearing. She’s feeling rather wild – something about seeing König completely naked yet unable to move is making her act like this. Like she's the brave one. Like she’s in control now.
Dedicated to her task, she pulls the shirt over her head.
Nothing moves on that bed for a good long while. As far as she can tell, König might've stopped breathing. But by the time she takes her bra off, there’s a swallow under that hood. Then the hand slowly starts to stroke again, the moist, slick sounds continue as her breasts fall free from their confinement.
She’s breathing heavily too, and the man on the bed is stiff as a stone: every single muscle in his body is pulled taut as he stares at her breasts like they’re the Revelation of John. Then those blue eyes lift to her face just before another command is issued.
"Take off the rest."
"The–the rest…?"
"I just want to watch you."
His voice is hoarse and croaky, and she feels even more sorry for him – König must be in so much pain and she just keeps on teasing him. She started this, so perhaps it’s better just to see it through.
What’s crazy though is that he actually moans when she gets out of her pants, socks, and finally, her underwear. The slick sounds of fapping increase, and he’s moaning.
She hasn’t even touched him yet… She’s just standing there before him completely naked, heat pooling low in her belly as König continues to work himself with what looks like both pleasure and pain.
"Komm… Come here," he orders next, out of breath but surprisingly politely, and she has no other option than to approach his bed. She sits down as chastely as possible, then almost jumps back up when a steel-hard thigh brushes against hers.
"Touch it. Ja?"
Her eyes grow as wide as they can go as she takes in the cock she has touched once before, briefly and under a hospital sheet. Now it’s right there, foreign and demanding.
Better just to see it through, her mind tweets as her hand reaches out through what feels like water. Like before, there's a sharp intake of air under the hood as she takes him in her hand. It’s even hotter than she remembered, and gives a tight pull the instant her fingers wrap around it.
"Like this…?"
"Just like that…"
Her meek little mouse peeps and multiple bats of eyelashes are like drug to him, it seems. The man is as tight as a bowstring when she starts to move her hand up and down, mimicking the motions she just saw him do. They're not as fast as his, and her grip must be way gentler, but she seems to do surprisingly well for an inexperienced virgin. The poor man looks like he’s about to faint on that bed.
What she doesn’t expect, however, is König to touch her.
A large, warm palm sweeps across her ribs and lands on her breast, softly, as if he's concerned that he might scare her off. She's the one who's stopped breathing now… And then he rubs her, squeezes her. Gently… Reverently.
"You're soft," comes a strained sigh from the bed as she tries to keep her own grip both tight and gentle. She’s starting to get so wet she fears she will stain his sheets. Bewildered, she tries to change her position, but the palm cupping her breast seems to have bound her to the bed too. Nothing moves, except her hand and his as they explore each other. A giant and an angel...
Something hot and wet meets her hand as she strokes him – is he cumming already…? But it can't be, she has heard there’s supposed to be quite a bit of it when a man cums, and there’s only a few ample drops of clear liquid oozing out of the slit on his tip.
"Can't wait for the day I get to make you scream," he rasps, and her heart is hammering in her chest as more cum-like liquid streams from the slit of his cock, adding to the lewd, moist sounds of the handjob she’s giving him.
König doesn’t know she has never even kissed a guy…
"We'll… we'll get there," she tries to soothe him, thanking her lucky stars this man can't move.
"I want to fuck you," he continues, sounding more and more desperate. "Good and hard… until you cry under me. Want to see if you can take it all in."
"König…"
"It’s a long cock, ja? I can make you squirt."
"König, I'm still a virgin… You can't–"
"Nh–Sorry… sorry."
His head falls back on the pillow, his muscles relax just for the tiniest moment. But if she thought he would finally leave her to it, she was wrong. The hand of a giant killer drops between her legs next.
She’s sitting on the bed like she would sit on a side saddle, with one leg slightly bent, giving the horniest man on earth good enough access to the heat between her legs. She doesn’t stop him – she doesn’t even want to – as broad fingertips meet her pubic hair and slip between her already slick folds.
"...Was? Pretty angel is all wet," he comments on her state of mess. Approvingly: like all his fears have suddenly disappeared.
She has to fight the urge to roll her head back and moan as those agile fingers start to give her full, generous strokes. She almost messes up her rhythm while stroking his cock, which seems to have gotten even harder.
His fingers delve into her with more courage, they tease her tight, tender nub with excited circles. She tries not to jolt and shiver as he makes her even more slick, tries to ignore how her nipples grow hard from that burning stare alone.
"Such a pretty girl… and so wet. You sure you don't want it?"
She thinks about it – how it would feel if he somehow was able to take her on that bed. If he pushed that cock inside her and if it would hurt or make her moan even more. Even the thought of trying to fit that inside her makes her thighs feel like pudding.
"I don’t know… You're still recovering."
"Heh… That's not a problem. You can be on top. I'll help," he offers as if it’s a gentlemanly thing to do, to help her bounce on that huge cock.
"I–I'd rather do it the classic way."
"I'll show you classic when I get better," he promises with unconcealed greed. "I'll show you all the other ways too. We’ll do it any way you like."
She tries hard not to whimper when hearing his promise. She tries her best to pleasure the biggest cock she’s ever seen. It’s ridiculous that it’s the only cock she’s ever seen... What sort of a cruel joke was it from the universe to choose this king-sized Austrian to be her first man?
She wonders how König would react if she told him he’s too big for her.
Would he try to change her mind? Would he have a meltdown?
Would he cry…?
She doubts if this man ever cries. The last time a brutal soldier like him shed tears was probably when he was a kid. But he did look like he was about to cry that one time when she booped his nose...
And despite being a cold-blooded soldier and somewhat awkward at times, König has always been so, so delicate with her. He's tender even now, touching her with the gentlest avarice there is. But that searing stare wants to possess her, devour her, and it makes her bite her lip nearly to the point of drawing blood.
"Sit on my face?" he offers next, this time sounding so desperate it's almost pathetic.
Sit on his face…
What would he even do? Lick her? Try to push his tongue inside her while finishing himself?
The thought alone makes her mess up her rhythm again and causes her pussy to pulse more wetness on his fingers. She secretly hopes he would slip at least one of those fingers inside.
"Let me see your cunt," he begs. God – this giant mercenary is begging to see her poor, aching pussy. "Just… let me at least taste you–"
She can’t even reply before the hand between her legs gives a sudden twitch and stops those delicious rubs. Actually, his whole body is going rigid.
"König…? Am I hurting you?"
"I'm–gonna cum…"
Oh god.
Oh god ohgod-
She's not sure what gives her more of a fright: the sound that leaves her soldier boyfriend as he cums, or the bright, hot flash of liquid that shoots from the cock in her hand.
He groans like it’s torture. Long and hard, so loud that she’s sure other people can hear it in the neighboring rooms, perhaps even further than that. There’s one, two, three spurts of thick, hot liquid, after that, she loses count because it spills to coat his stomach, it runs down her hand, and she’s pumping him in a frenzy while he just keeps on moaning.
"Slow, slow down–" he tries to groan in the middle of his climax and she obeys immediately, reveling in how his cock still throbs in her hand when she finally stops moving altogether. More cum gushes out with every strong pulse, even if the eruptions are less violent. Ropes of it already cover his abs, it coats her hand with thick film – it's far more than she would ever have expected, and a shiver goes through her as she imagines what it must feel like to take all of that semen inside her…
"Ah… Das war wirklich…" König sighs dreamily while she must be looking like a startled deer.
Yes, that was really something… She doesn’t know what to do with his cock, or her hand, or the mess that coats half his body.
Luckily, he instructs her to take his old shirt from the floor and clean herself with it. She cleans him with it too, dabs the black t-shirt over his muscled stomach, even tries to swipe his crotch with it as gently as she can.
König looks happier by the minute, looks at her like she’s an angel or something, and when she fully commits herself to getting him cleaned up, he gets another erection. She’s quite horrified – how is this even possible…? She thought men would need at least hours to get it back up again.
"Come on top," he offers, sounding all but seductive with that commanding tone.
She swallows, thinking if König wants to be a "gentleman" and finish her too. With his tongue... or something else.
"Just for a hug? We don't have to put it in."
She seems to be under some spell tonight, because she simply drops the poor, cum-stained shirt back on the floor and crawls to the bed and on top of him.
König is hot and lean as she presses herself against him, her thighs now straddling the intimidating thing between his legs. Her head falls right beside his mask-covered face, and the smell of guns and fuel and sweat is prominent there, as is his natural odor, the woodland musk she has grown so fond of.
"There we go," his arms go around her waist, pressing her tighter against him. There’s no escape now, she thinks, but like always with König, she eventually softens and relaxes, molds against him… Accepts her fate.
"You did well, Meine Liebe," he even caresses her head as she slowly melts into his hold. "I’m sorry if I frightened you. Will you forgive me?"
"Um, of course."
"A gentleman should always apologize if he has upset his lady. Do you agree?"
"Uh… Yes."
"I promise to be a good man. The best man you could ever hope for."
She bites her lip as König continues to caress her. She’s far from upset, but she doesn’t want to tell him that and excite him too much. Otherwise he might end up hurting himself. He hugs her tight, and seems to have calmed down more than ever.
Is this what an orgasm does to a man...? The change is drastic, and her lover feels warm, and tender, and inviting. He even whispers more promises on her skin. They're nonsensical but gentle, König is probably trying to be romantic, but she can feel how his breaths grow heavier as time goes on. After all, they're both naked, pressed tightly together, closer than ever before, and he's having an erection again...
She tries not to shiver at the things he tells her. The husky promises of love and protection: "You are mine now, ja? Don’t be afraid. I would never hurt you. I will always keep you safe." And then, "You’re still wet, mein Mädchen… How about we practice just a little bit? We'll do it slow. Ja? I will make you moan…"
He coos those things in her ear while holding her in place for his cock. She starts to move on her own accord; it’s like her hips have their own will. Soon, her entrance meets the tip of him, still hot and bulged, and she starts to grind against it with barely restrained greed. She is wet – wetter than ever.
König curses multiple times under his breath, and she feels so, so filthy for loving how unhinged he is, how unhinged she is – spread wide on top of him like that, trying to get off of the faintest touch of his cock. She’s so soaked that the hot tip of him glides across her folds with no effort at all.
She feels like she’s doing something forbidden, taking her pleasure from him like that, but König doesn’t seem to know what the word filthy even means. He keeps praising her, guiding her, helping her, telling her how good she feels, that she’s doing so, so well.
Soon, he’s asking to put it in – just the tip.
She tries her best not to sound too needy as she breathes a soft, mousy "Yes."
"How does that feel?"
He’s panting, few inches of thick cock inside her, and she thinks, did she just lose her virginity? Is this it? Why isn’t it hurting?
“You like that, hmm?”
He feels so, so good, pressing her against him, spreading her legs with his own, trying to feed more of that marvelous thickness inside. It doesn’t hurt, at least not yet. It makes her dizzy to even think what she must be looking like, with her legs spread and a huge cock partly inside her.
She should say something… What was it that he asked? Oh yes, if she likes it. She more than just likes it, and tries to push herself down to get more of him in. König reacts immediately with a ton of praise leveled at her in the softest possible way.
“That's it, that's it, pretty girl, take it in…”
Him cheering her on like that only makes her decide that it’s time to let go and let go for good. But she can’t get him in by herself, not while he’s holding her a prisoner like this.
"More… König, please," she hears herself whimper.
God, is this all it took...? Him holding her close and letting her find the joys of sex herself? Apparently so, because he sounds goddamn smug when he turns his head to rasp more needy, throaty things in her ear.
"Ah… Knew you'd beg for it… "
His voice makes her inner walls clamp down on him, and that’s when it hurts, but only slightly. She wants him so much that it’s painful. And König… God, he keeps on showering her with praises and promises.
"I'll show you how good it can be… That's it, let me hear you. It's a good cock, ja? Good cock for a pretty girl…"
It’s not even fully in before he starts the thrusts. That’s when she knows she has lost her virginity. She’s being plunged. Not taken… Just… loved, thoroughly and deeply.
When she moans, finally sounds as filthy as can be, he tells her how tight she is. How good she feels. He says he’s going to cum again soon. But not before her…
He doesn’t need to instruct her to rub her clit on his pelvis in rhythm with the thrusts. She is smart enough to do that by herself. And the thoughts of This is it, I’m not a virgin anymore have turned into Is it possible to cum on your first time…?
Everything’s perfect, all things considered. But there’s something missing.
"König," she swallows arduously. "I’ve never been kissed... Would you– Could you…?"
He stops moving, releases his hold a little. A strong heart is hammering inside his chest, she can feel it against her own fluttering heartbeat.
Is it stupid of her to ask…? Will he only laugh at her for being so sentimental?
Apparently no, because it’s the warmest possible command that surrounds her this time.
"Lift the mask, angel."
By the time their lips meet, both hesitant and needy, he's fully inside her and holding her like a mountain. She feels like she's in a fairytale now: the only thing that moves is his mouth, and hers. Theirs is a slow, hungry rhythm.
Her first kiss is not only awkwardly romantic and sweet, it’s sinfully good.
The kiss also does things she did not expect. Her pussy goes tight around him, so tight that a whimper or two escape her nose, and König only purrs – she feels like the softest little creature in the embrace of a lean jaguar.
And she thinks…
Why on earth didn't they do this months ago?
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Author's note: Ok so I was on my bed and this absolute banger of an idea spawned into my mind...I suggest you read the historic background I've written in this same post to better understand the vision...
they/them pronouns used after the historical background
Rook Hunt as a stilnovist poet
HISTORICAL BACKGROUND
I think a lot of us know about stilnovism, known also as "dolce stil novo". A literary movement that began towards the end of the thirteenth century with Dante Alighieri as its most renowned poet. At the basis of the stilnovistic thought, there were the fundamental chivalric ideals of love such as: the vision of a woman as an angelic and transcendent creature, to the point that the one who loved her felt the need to ask God for forgiveness for having venerated the woman more than God himself; the knights and the troubadours/stilnovists (name of the poets of that literary movement) were tormented by an unrequited love since "true" love for them meant observing the woman from afar, without their love being reciprocated because they felt inferior to the woman they loved.. Now imagine rook hunt as a stilnovist poet deeply in love with the reader...do you guys see the vision?
Rook would write sonnets dedicated to the reader, celebrating their beauty and virtue in the style of dolce stil novo. He’d describe them as an ethereal muse, illuminating his darkest thoughts and guiding him toward love’s enlightenment.
Drawing from the tradition of dolce stil novo, Rook would often use nature as a metaphor for his feelings. He might compare the reader’s eyes to the shimmering stars or their smile to the blooming roses of spring, illustrating the profound impact they have on his soul.
In the quiet of the night, Rook would sneak away from his duties to serenade the reader outside their window, playing soft melodies on a lute and reciting verses that express his admiration and longing. These serenades would be infused with a mix of romantic despair and hope, like the essence of stilnovist emotion (as said previously).
Rook would treat the reader with utmost respect and adoration. He’d engage in chivalrous acts, such as gifting them flowers or rare books of poetry, and he would always seek their counsel and company. He would often lose himself in daydreams about the reader, contemplating the nature of love and beauty. These contemplations would inspire him to pen some of his most poignant works, reflecting on how their presence transforms the mundane into the extraordinary, like Guinizzelli's works or he might write about how the reader’s love brings light to his dark moments, yet also acknowledge the bittersweet pain of longing like Dante Alighieri.
Rook would look for opportunities to engage the reader at gatherings of poets and artists, where they could share their thoughts on love and beauty. He’d seek to impress them with his eloquence and charm, hoping to capture their heart amidst discussions of art and philosophy.
As previously mentioned, Rook’s poetry might carry a hint of melancholy, reflecting the struggles of a lover whose affections may not be fully returned. He’d write about unfulfilled dreams and the sweet sorrow of love.
So, yes. I think Rook would embody at 101% the essence of a passionate stilnovist poet, channeling his love for the reader into art and emotion, celebrating them as both muse and companion.
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