#thanks for the ask hope the answer wasn’t too long-winded!
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inkblackorchid · 2 years ago
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Have you ever thought about moments (whether in canon or in your own scenarios) where Aki could possibly call on the full Mark of the Dragon? Out of the signers, only Aki and Luca iirc are the only ones seen without manifesting the insignia on their backs.
Anon I have thought about this so often it’s not even funny. I have, on several occasions, sat in rooms by myself, seemingly staring at nothing while my mind was going at 200 km/h trying to figure out a scenario where this could happen to Aki. As it turns out, though, canon is… kinda in the way when it comes to that. Bear with me, this answer might get more long-winded than intended, but here’s the thing(s):
I had to go back and check myself just to be sure, but in canon, only four people have managed to unify the signer marks in special situations: Yusei, Jack, Rua, and, surprisingly, Rex Goodwin. And Yusei is the only one who managed it not one, but several times. (Among those times: his second duel against Kiryu, his first duel against Placido, the BBT duel against Paradox, and his final duel against Z-ONE. Meanwhile, Jack only did it in his duel against dark signer Carly and maybe also in the duel against Red Nova, I don’t remember that exactly, Rua did it when he almost died against Aporia, and Goodwin did it for no apparent reason during his stint as the final antagonist of the DS arc.) Meaning that Crow, Ruka, and Aki never even got their chance. As to why they didn’t, frankly (at least in my opinion, mind, I’m not the central authority on canon), I think it’s because the antagonists bringing about the situations where the mark is unified (not counting Goodwin’s nonsense) were all tailored to the people defeating them. Kiryu, Placido, and Z-ONE were super personal fights for Yusei. Carly was arguably THE single most personal duel for Jack in the entire show. And Aporia, the personification of despair, facing off against little Rua, who refused to give up hope until his (nearly) last breath? Yeah, also personal.
And the thing is, Crow, Ruka, and Aki don’t really… have anyone like that. Arguably, their respective dark signer duels would have still fit the bill the best, since the dark signers were very personal antagonists by default (a reason why I adore them). At the same time, I can see why the writers didn’t do that, because if every signer had had a unified-mark-Majestic-Dragon moment during a dark signer duel, it would have quickly felt gimmicky instead of earned.
Which brings me back to your question—a moment where Aki could possibly unify the signer marks would have to feel earned, and thus, it would have to put her up against an antagonist who’s a fairly big obstacle, for one, and who’s ideally a personal fight for her, too. As you may realise, canon doesn’t exactly give her that. All the major antagonists, especially during the WRGP arc, aren’t personal fights for her, more vague threats against the whole world. None of them are written to juxtapose or foil her, and she isn’t written to juxtapose or foil any of them. (You could argue that Sherry is somewhat personal, but with her flip-flopping allegiances, she honestly doesn’t count as enough of an antagonist for this for me.) The only antagonists who come even close to being appropriate fights for a scenario where Aki could get her hypothetical Majestic Rose Dragon (or other upgrade) moment are Misty, who isn’t treated as big enough of a threat for the reasons stated above, and Divine, who exits the stage after his last hurrah in the Misty duel with absolutely no fanfare whatsoever. Which means that as far as canon is concerned, Aki has no proper opponent available who could make a moment like that happen. As such, I feel that if one wanted to give Aki a nice, well-earned moment where she gets to unify the signer marks (and god, do I want to give her that moment), there are only two ways it could go: 1. Dust off Divine and make him a proper threat somehow (which is risky because he was previously already removed from the narrative and might thus come off as repetitive), or 2. Make up an antagonist who’s not tailored to Yusei or Jack for once, but to Aki (which is also risky because it requires good setup in order to make the payoff moment feel earned).
So yes, anon, I have thought about it, haha. Often enough that it drives me a little insane. Unfortunately, canon is extremely unhelpful where this scenario is concerned. Which is not to say that I am not scheming to find a way to make such a moment happen anyway, at least in my adjusted version of canon.
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eupheme · 2 months ago
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— double the pleasure, triple the fun
[part iii of come on and show me | masterlist]
logan howlett x f!reader x wade wilson
rated e - 5.6k
tags: MMF threesome, mutual pining/crushes all around, dirty talk, poly relationship, multi-tasking, the world's worst romantic porposition, oral sex, vaginal fingering, ass play (fingering & rimming), double penetration, creampies, fluff and feelings
a/n: massive thank you to the wonderfully talented @avocado-writing, who kindly beta'd this for me! 💖
“Are you asking me out?” It comes slowly, in a rough rasp. 
It’s you that turns then, your eyes finding his. Your smile is sweet - a swirling heat of hope in your belly, “Depends on your answer.”
There’s something dark in his eyes. A curl of his lips, as his head dips. A kiss pressed against your spine, then lower. 
“Come on Wilson.” Logan husks, “Let’s get our girl ready.”
(Or, your two becomes three.)
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“God, I want him to put a baby in me.”
Wade’s sigh rumbles beneath your ear, where your head cradles against his chest. 
Legs entwined as you stretch out together on the couch - a late-night wind-down after your boyfriend spent the evening picking out his To-Do List at Sister Margaret's.
To kill. Not fuck, apparently. Something he was quick to clarify.
“What are you watching?” Your eyes pull away from your own phone - seventeen chapters into an enemies-to-lovers slow burn you haven’t been able to put down all evening. 
A little stretch, as your head tilts to face him - knuckles propped under your chin, “That video has been looping for like, ten minutes.”
“And yet, still not long enough,” He sighs, flashing the screen at you, “Sir Mix-a-Lot, you never miss.”
The video flickers, a quick and skillful transition of clips - your eyes squinting at the screen from your angle.
“Is that... Logan?”
“Close, baby girl.” His finger boops against your nose, “Huge Ackman.”
There’s a little shake of your head, as your shoulder lifts, “I don’t know who that is.”
“And thank god,” He grins, letting the phone drop onto the cushions. A shift, as his hands dips against the small of your back, “If you did, you would divorce me so fast-“
Your eyes roll, as you bite back a grin, “I wouldn’t.”
“Definitely, maybe.”
Wade grunts as you push yourself with a huff - head dipping to press your lips against his. A low swirl in your belly, as his eyes go soft and his smile goes dopey. 
“I love you, Wade Winston Wilson,” You grin back, “New fake boyfriends and all, apparently.”
He hums, head tilting.
“And what about not-so-fake boyfriends?”
Your brow furrows.
“You are talking about Logan now, right?”
Wade’s knuckles brush your cheek, the humor in his eyes turning searching, “What do you think?”
And what a question it is. 
You’ve talked about it often. The occasional partner had cycled in for a night or two, but there had never been someone that struck you both like Logan had, arriving in your lives like a storm of thunder and lightning.
And you can’t deny that there’s feelings. Obvious ones, apparently, with how you acted in the past. Wade was still teasing you about your jealousy - you never had a handle on that emotion in the way he did. 
That innate knowledge of how he felt about someone, trusted them. Flirting was easy, but you’ve seen the way he looks at Logan, too.
It was different. Special.
“Two musketeers becoming the full set,” He holds his fingers up in front of you, two and then three, “Only unlike them, we’re fucking.”
You let out a sound of dissent, with the lift of a shoulder. 
“Oh, worm?” His brow raises, “Guess Disney wasn’t ready for that, either. Dibs on the religious one, then. I am a man of the cloth.”
“It’s a bad analogy, there’s four of them.”
He chuckles indulgently, “Okay, now I think you’re making things up-“
Now it’s your hand reaching, a finger tapping against his lips.
“I’d like that. I think Logan being our… boyfriend-” The word sends a rush of heat to your face as you stutter over it, Wade’s eyes gleaming.
“Oh my god, you are so fucking cute.” He crows, “We’ve fucked nasty-style and you can’t even say boyfriend-”
Your face buried in his chest, his name a muffled whine. A beat as the laughter still rumbles in his chest, before you peek at him.
“Do you think he wants that, too?”
“Oh, absolutely.” Wade hums, “That man is at least a 6 on the Yearning Richter scale. Felt by all, many frightened.”
You brighten at that prospect - your brain is already slipping ahead, “Do you think we should like, plan something? Ask him together?”
“Oh, don’t worry, gorgeous.” Wade grins.
“I’ll handle it.”
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It's strange, seeing Logan in your space.
A good strange. A strange that feels nice - the subtle sweep of his eyes, as he takes in your apartment. The bag slung over his shoulder already tucked in your room, set on the ottoman at the foot of your bed.
He fits in, you think. Tucked into your couch as you put the finishing touches on dinner. Too used to being in their shared space at Wade’s. Of stolen moments when Althea was out. Hushed moments when she was home, muffled moans and bitten-back sighs.  
It will be nice to be able to take your time. 
They had arrived together, and there had been a certain thrill to that, too. 
Wade's knock that mimics the opening beats of "Smooth", before the door burst open. Funny to think about them crammed in a car together - they took Althea's, Wade tells you, when you later asked if they'd walked.
How he was already turning to you to referee, as you tip your head to kiss his cheek. 
"All I'm asking is if we're both sheathing our swords in the same scabbard, then why is he getting his panties in a twist about me putting my clothes in his bag?"
"Ignore him, sweetheart," Logan softens, leaning into the matching kiss you press against his jaw, "Been doing that for the last two months. It's good to see you."
And it is. Good to see both of them, something warm glowing bright in your chest.
The round table that always felt a little big for two feels perfect now - tucking between each other as dinner passes in a warm jumble of savory aromas and comfortable conversation. 
Smiling at the way they're both as engaged with your stories about your day, as you are about the work they've been doing together.
"-absolutely vaporized. It was disgusting, babe." Wade grimaces, "I was fine of course. Red, and all. But Lo here, eeugh. Still scrubbing the blood out of the nooks and crannies."
Logan makes a grunt of acknowledgement, "Had worse."
"Worse? Worse than getting gut-mist blasted across your chest?"
"I'll help, if you want." You offer, "Haven't seen your new suit yet."
At Wade's request, you try to keep out of his business - other than the stories he shares, the occasional repairs of his suit. Doesn't want his life mixing, not after what's happened in the past. 
Dutiful boyfriend by day, mercenary by night. And also sometimes, by day. Evenings, weekends.
It’s an unsteady schedule, but it's one you've grown accustomed to. Maybe that’s what helps make this easy, the way you’ve already adjusted to mutant-regenerative-boyfriend-life. 
But it doesn't mean you're not curious. That you don't appreciate certain aspects - especially when they come in tightly wrapped in leather and lycra. 
And when you eventually rise to collect dishes, it's Logan that beats you to it. A finger sternly pointed towards the couch, Wade's hand at your back - already guiding you towards it, as you protest.
"Least we can do, sweetheart," Logan smiles, "Can't remember the last time I had a meal this good."
"Excuse me," Wade gasps, as he slips on elbow-length mis-matched gloves,"Did my midnight toaster strudels mean nothing to you?"
It's your turn now, to sit on the couch. To watch, as Wade supervises. The quiet talk that swiftly turns to bickering. A yelp and a splash of hot water, before he's retreating.
Sinking down on the seat next to you, as your thoughts swirl. Soft memories of past shared evenings, and the planting of something that you’ll tend to carefully, hoping it will flourish. 
"You're looking at him like he's got balls on his neck," Wade’s arm slings around your shoulders, tone knowing, "Got something on your mind, gorgeous?"
Your nose wrinkles at the visual, but then you turn thoughtful.
"Just like seeing both of you here." Your smile is soft, "It feels right, you know?"
He hums in agreement, and you glance his way, "Do you feel that way too?"
"Feels as right as Ryan Reynolds playing me in my upcoming biopic."
That has you cocking an eyebrow - whatever reference he's making flying over your head, "And that's... good?"
"Yeah, baby." He grins.
"Really fucking good." 
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The hunger follows you into the bedroom, after. Your question about dessert gets swiftly turned around on you - hands catching at your waist. 
Threats and promises  to devour you instead - that the ice cream you bought can wait - as lips press against yours. Another mouth at your neck, in your slow and often-interrupted journey to the bedroom. 
Ganging up on you again, almost as if it were planned. 
And you’re not sure if it was, or whether they’ve unconsciously become more in-sync, between their hours together at the apartment and in their work. 
More alike than they are different, at their core - something you’re not sure you’d be able to convince them of, even though you see it.
It’s sweetly familiar, when you finally fall into bed together. Clothes already stripped off, a messy pile mixing together against the woven floral rug as you fit together. 
Spit pools on Logan’s tongue, as he sucks on his teeth. A low tilt of his head before his lips are parting, letting it drop where he has your thighs nudged apart, belly pressed down against the bed.
Warm, where it hits the cleft of your ass. His hand follows - a broad palm curving against soft skin, tugging you open. 
“What do I have to do to let me have you here?” Logan’s thumb smears his spit against the tight ring, voice low and honey-smooth. 
It makes you jolt, a soft sound pulling from your throat. Squirming, as his thumb comes back - rolling the pad against you. 
“She, shit-” Wade groans, as your mouth leaves his cock - the tip glistening as it drops against his belly, “Only lets people she’s dating fuck her ass.”
“Wade!” You whine, as your thighs try to close - Logan’s spreading to keep you open. 
A low rasp of a laugh, “Is that right?”
“Not me though. If you’re curious.” Wade hums, his arm still slung under the pillow, “Sometimes even a first date is too slow.”
Dark eyes drag up, to the shift of hips. Over the leaking cock, lying flushed and hard against Wade’s belly - something like hunger in the slow sweep up to the pulled-wide grin.
“This is you handling it?” You hiss.
“You’re acting like the man invented the elevator.” Wade shrugs - shifting to push himself up on an elbow, “Trust me, there is nothing more romantic than a ‘what are we’ conversation slipped into a discussion about double penetration. We’re multi-tasking, gorgeous.”
Some of the tension eases, with the way he smiles at you. There’s not an ounce of worry in his expression, only the dark shadow of desire, highlighted with humor. 
Waiting until you smile back, before he fixes Logan with a pointed look. 
“Look. I’m gonna level with you,” He sighs, as if divulging something imperative, ”Until you’re ready to commit to being Mr. Y/L/N, then fifth base is just gonna be out of the question.”
There’s the shake of a head, a low huff behind you. The slight stroke of fingers against your skin.
“Are you asking me out?” It comes slowly, in a rough rasp. As if putting pieces together. 
It’s you that turns then, your eyes finding his. Your smile is sweet - a swirling heat of hope in your belly, “Depends on your answer.”
There’s something dark in his eyes. A curl of his lips, as his head dips.
A kiss pressed against your spine, then lower. 
“Come on Wilson.” He husks, “Let’s get our girl ready.”
A moan rips from you. First, from his words - the jolting butterflies in your belly, a pooling warmth. The sound lengthening, as his tongue flattens where his fingers had teased. Your back arches as Wade pumps his fist, before throwing a filthy “I-Told-You-So” smirk your way.
It glances off you. Your fingers curled in the sheets, as Logan shoulders your thighs further apart. A wet swipe that travels from your cunt to your hole, smearing your slick and his spit against your skin. 
A finger nudging against you, as Wade leans - hand fumbling for the handle of the bedside table. 
“You think you can take both of us?” Logan purrs, as he carefully works you open. A fingertip sinking inside you, as you whine. 
”What, you think we were joking about role-playing?” Wade scoffs,”Why did you think all the dinner knives were missing? Lost ‘em all beneath the bed.”
There’s a shuffle, as he works himself further beneath you. A bottle of lube dropped on the bedspread, as his fingers reach - petting against your clit.
“Tried two before, didn’t we gorgeous? Me and the Pulverine, as we call him.” Wade coos, “Not as big as you, of course. But definitely a lot more sparkly.” 
“Toy’s not the same thing,” Logan hums, as you clench around him. Sinking deeper, slowly pumping, “‘s gonna be a tight fit, baby.”
The sensations are already overwhelming. Wade’s fingers slipping down - fitting one, and then two fingers inside your slick pussy. His thumb nudging against your clit, teasing.
Logan’s weight against you, shifting as his hips grind into the mattress. The messy swirl of his tongue, more spit added to the mess. His thick finger already feels like a lot, pressed down to the knuckle. Slow in the way he works you open, the hot embers in your belly roaring brighter.
“I want it.” You moan, “Want both of you.” 
Wanted it for a while now. Wondered if they’d take you like this. If you’d be able to take them, stuffed so full you could barely draw breath. Wanting to know what it feels like to come, with both of them pressed to the hilt inside you. 
Words fail you, soon after. There’s the cold smear of lube against your skin, a second finger notched. Your cry muffled with the press of Wade’s lips, tilting your face to his as their fingers find their rhythm together.
That steady swirl against your clit. How you’re clenching around them, your arousal slick on Wade’s palm. The sharp rhythmic slap ringing through your ears as you pant into his mouth. Logan’s teeth against the soft curve of your ass, a muffled groan as he fits a second inside you. 
It’s a mimicry of later, but it’s enough. Something bright burning in your belly, fueled by their desire. Hot breath against your skin, Wade’s cock grinding into your hip. 
“Come on, gorgeous.” He murmurs against you, “Let me feel you come with his fingers buried in your ass.”
You choke on your moan. Hips shifting, pushing one deeper and then the other as you chase the building high. The sharp stretch long spooling into pleasure, twisting around your guts, shimmering. 
“‘m gonna-” It’s breathed out, your eyes screwing shut. Focused on the countdown  that’s begun inside you, swiftly approaching with each crook of their fingers, “Fuck, I’m-”
Logan shifts, his breath ghosting against your spine, “Come for us, sweetheart.”
For us. 
Your face buries against Wade’s shoulder, as they bring you over the edge together. Working in tandem to take you apart, and they haven’t even really begun - fingers crooking and curling as a bright pleasure blooms in your belly. 
Wade had been right - it’s not the first time you’ve been full like this. But Logan was right, too. It’s different - the way you can feel them move together, as you whine. The orgasm ripples through you, the sensations drawing out as kisses are dropped between your shoulder blades. 
Soft crooning in your ear, but it’s all muted - barely aware of the palms that run across your skin. The press of mouths against your heated skin - until the pulses in your core fades, the room coming back into focus. 
They slip from you - first Wade, and then Logan. You’ve felt empty before but never like this, already missing the weight inside you. Craving more.
There’s a shift on the bed, Logan shouldering himself next to Wade, who you’re still stretched out on. 
“C’mere, baby. Fuck, need to feel you.”
Hand at your hips, coaxing you up. Encouraging you to straddle his thighs, but then Wade is tsking - reaching for you, trying to turn you around.
“Annnd I just gave myself a promotion to Director,” He adds with a long-suffering sigh, “When you want something done right, gotta do it yourself.”
Logan growls, as your weight leaves him, “The fuck you talking about?”
Wade’s brow arches, “The fuck I’m talking about is you doing this all wrong, peanut. When was the last time you partook in the devil’s threeway? Was it this century, at least?”
Hand gentle as he guides you to face away from Logan, your ass settling against the cradle of his hips.
“There you go,” He coos, “How am I going to give your pretty little kitty the attention she deserves if you have her all hidden away?”
Logan’s hard cock nestles against your belly, as your knees press into the mattress. Breath hitching as you gauge the size of him again. Hoping that the prep he did was enough - the soft buzz beneath your skin certainly has you feeling more than ready.
Slicking your fingers with more lube before they wrap around his shaft - a rough hiss sliding from his throat as they circle around, squeezing. Smearing it against swollen flesh, thumbing over the leaking head as you line yourself up. 
Wade shifting to watch, his head tilted against Logan’s shoulder, his fist already wrapped around his cock as you start to slowly sink down. 
“Sit on it, sweetheart, there you go.” Logan growls, as he breaches you. 
A sharp, inhaled breath as the tip sinks inside you. The building pressure and then the give - as you try not to clench down.
Pulling a rough sound from him. Fingers twitching at your hips - set on only steadying you. A rough edge creeping into his soft encouragement, “Nice and easy, baby.”
Another inch, but it feels like double. Sweat beading along the nape of your neck, as you stretch around him.
“Doing so good,” He rasps, “Take it slow.”
“Taking it like a fucking champ, baby.” Wade interjects, “Couldn’t have done it better myself, and Levy knows how often I thought about it.”
Your nails bite into his thighs, but it only makes his hips flex. Twin moans when it nudges him the rest of the way - your breath stolen when he’s seated flush inside you.
Not that different than when Wade’s fucked you, even with the length he’s got on Logan. But it’s the girth that has your lips parting - a ragged moan with the experimental roll of your hips.
“Pretty fucking sight.” Logan groans, through gritted teeth. Palms slipping around, gently tugging you back towards his chest.
His growl low in your ear, as his hips lift in an experiment thrust.
“Gonna stuff you full, gonna let us do the work.” He husks, a hissed breath when you clench around him. “Make you feel good, alright?”
Palming at your tits, as Wade shifts into position. Swallowing your begging, whined out “please-” as he kisses down your throat. 
Over your breasts. The back of Logan’s hand, against the curve of your belly. His fist still working at his cock, an audible moan of appreciation when he settles between Logan’s thighs.
“You look so good full of him.” It’s mumbled out against your hip, “God, I want to jerk off to this and let you use my cum as lube.”
Logan’s fingers tighten - pinching a peaked nipple as you moan, as kisses are peppered against your mound.
“Fuck us into your tight ass.”
You cry out, when his tongue flattens against your clit. Fingers teasing at your hole, dipping inside to test how full you feel. 
“Soaking wet, baby. You feeling good?” Wade croons, “Or does your greedy little pussy need more?”
“Wade,” You keen, desperate. Rocking into the slow pump of Logan’s hips, his breath harsh in your ear.
His fingers crook, and curl.
“You want us to take you there and back again to pound town?” 
“I swear to god,” You pant, desperate, “If you don’t get inside me, I’ll-, I’ll call Nate.”
His eyes gleam, “That right? Still thinking about riding the ol’ Cable car?”
It’s Logan’s added growl that finally gets him moving. A smile still pulling wide, as he slips from you. His own desperation betrayed by the wet smear against his belly.
The slick tip of his cock, as he ruts against your folds. Your breath held, as he notches himself.
His dark eyes on your blown-wide ones, as he starts to sink in. It has your thighs trembling, as you whine. Clenching down without meaning to, as Logan groans.
Feeling the way he inches into you. What little space left filled as your pussy makes room for him. The tight clutch of your walls, a moan at the way he can feel Logan through the thin layer of skin between them.
A choked-out moan punched from his chest. 
“Made to take us both. Weren’t you, gorgeous?” He murmurs, as his hips move, “Goddamn perfect fit.”
They both move inside you. Stilted thrusts, off rhythm as you squirm between them. Logan getting impatient - throwing a glare Wade’s way.
“Stop moving when I do.”
It’s met with a laugh, as Wade’s hip snap a little harder. Filling you, the force jolting you against Logan, as your nails bite into his biceps.
“I’m driving this thing.” He counters, “Call me Sandra Bullock, because I’m not about to let this bus dip below 50.”
His hand catching Logan’s wrist - resistance when he tugs, but then it’s going with him. Fitting the curve of his fingers against the base of your throat.
“You do what you do best and be the anchor. Keep her still for me, will you?” 
Logan’s fingers flex, but he grunts - the slightest pressure against your chest. 
A pat against your hip, with a wink, “Let Daddypool do all the work.”
You huff, but the sound turns strangled as the sets the pace. Hands at your hips, tugging you to meet his thrusts. Fucking you back on to Logan, when his weight presses into you.
“There we fucking go. How you feeling, baby?”
“Feels so good,”You gasp, as the movement gets familiar. The slick slide of them inside you, the back and forth as they stroke your walls, as your arousal gleams against their cocks. 
“Know it does.” Wade grins, “They don’t call me DP for nothing.”
Logan grunts beneath you. Something biting held back - distracted, as his other hand wanders. Slipping across your hip, then down.
Tracing over your mound. Feather-light against your folds, feeling how you stretch open each time Wade goes balls-deep. 
Your moan coming out ragged, when he teases your clit. Soft strokes with the pad of his finger, before two press and circle.
It makes you jolt, his laugh low in your ear.
Finding that familiar rhythm. Feeling the way your hips flex, seeking out his touch. How easily he’s able to wind you up now, from the times he’s taken you apart. 
How it’s almost overwhelming, with the stuffed-full pressure of them inside you. With the saw of Wade’s hips, as his cock nudges against the spongy spot inside you.
A rough hum when you clench down. Unable to do more than take what he gives you, with the way Logan cradles you against his chest.
It only adds to the surge of pleasure inside you. A near-divine pairing of sensations that has your fingers reaching, Wade’s name a soft cry on your lips. 
He flattens against you, to meet the way your mouth tips up. It’s messy, open-mouthed as his hips slow to a grind. Hands skating up your body, against hips and waist.
Letting him in when he deepens it. A groan as he licks against your teeth. Needy presses of his mouth, spit smeared across your lips when it breaks. Another kiss  peppered against your jaw, where Logan groans into your ear. 
A unconscious shift of his head, and then their lips are brushing.
Logan’s cock throbs inside you, as Wade goes stiff and still. It’s softer than it should be - no more than a shared breath, before Wade pulls back. 
The hand at your neck flexes. Loosens, as it slips between you. Wrapping around the back of Wade’s neck as he yanks him back down.
A growled out “fuck” when they meet again, insistant this time. Vicious with the scrape of teeth, the wet swipe of tongue as Logan’s nails bite into skin.
Messy, as they pant into each other's mouths. Calloused fingers drifting down from your clit to split against your folds. Teasing where you’re filled, as Wade’s moan turns filthy.
A matching sound escaping from Logan, long held back. 
“Fucking holding out on me,” Wade mumbles, when the kiss breaks, “Haven’t been this wet since Cap’s beard reveal.”
Eyes dark, when he feels how Logan moves inside you. Forgetting himself, as he chases the pleasure that threatens to peak inside him.
“Bet you love knowing you’ve been in all of our girl’s holes. Don’t you, handsome?” Wade grins. Eyes still watchful - catching the clench of a jaw, as his lips return to yours.
The kiss is sweeter this time, even as he begins to drive into you. Each of your breaths coming in a whining gasp, pleasure once again winding inside you.
His mouth running away from him, determined to send you both over, ”Should let me into some of yours. You know I’d treat you right.”
“Shut the fuck up. C-Can’t come with you running your mouth.” It’s panted out - half-hearted at best, and Wade’s eyes gleam.
“Fucking liar.” He crows, “Bet you jerk it all the time to the thought of us screaming your name.”
Voice pitches up then, in a mimicry of yours, “Oh, Logan. Fuck me right there with your monster dick-”
Logan strings tight beneath you with a snarl, as he tries to bury himself in your ass. The hand at your neck dipping to grasp at your hip, as the practiced rhythm turns sloppy.
Wade shifts - his weight leaned into your hips. Pinning you both down as he fucks into you, stroke after stroke.  
Logan’s touch is sloppy against your clit - but with the way your boyfriend’s cock pounds against that spot inside you, it’s enough.
You don’t even realize you’re whimpering. The way their names string together, the “please, please, please-” that catches in your throat.  
“You gonna come too, baby?” He coos - thrilled, “You’re both so fucking easy, aren’t you?”
Logan moans in your ear when you squeeze around him, fingers pressing harder. A little faster, and with the next plunge of Wade’s cock - you shatter. 
It’s all white noise, the faded star stickers on the ceiling becoming swirling the sky above as you’re pulled under. 
Helpless, with the way you’re pinned between them. Coming again with the tight swirls against your clit, with them fully sheathed inside you. 
The tight pulse of your orgasm around his sends Logan over. 
Even with Wade’s weight his hips still lift as he bows off the bed. A wounded groan, as he comes with you clenching down around him. Grinding himself into your hole as his cock throbs, emptying himself into you. 
There’s a sing-songed and muted “money shot” that has you groaning. Half-exasperation, half-mindless pleasure, as Logan’s hands roam. Holding you against him, ragged breath against your neck as you milk him empty.
Keeping you stuffed full, hilting his cock deeper when you squirm. Leaving Wade to catch up.
Shameless in the way he watches now, as molten pleasure thrums in your veins. Leaning back to see how you take them both. Picturing how you’ll look after, thoroughly-fucked holes that will drip with them until morning. 
Doesn’t notice when his breath turns short, but you do. 
“Wanna feel you come, baby.” You coo, your smile soft and pleasure-drunk. 
Hands tracing over his, overlapping and squeezing. The shallow lift of your hips to meet his thrusts, purposely squeezing him when he inches out - trying to keep him in.
“Make a fucking mess, Red.” Logan growls - joining you, “Let me feel you come inside her.”
“Jesus Titty-Fucking Christ,” The rough laugh turns into a groan, “Think I’m going to blow two loads at once-”
Hands overlapping, grasping on, holding you, as his hips pump faster. Head tipping - fitting between yours and Logans - as his back bows. 
Coming inside you with a muttered out “oh fuck. fuck yes-”, cock jerking with each needy rut of his hips. The sound turns into a whine when teeth sink his neck, hard enough to bruise. 
Yours on the other side, your soft moan in his ear as you feel the way he throbs as he spills into you again, and again. 
Intense, in a way you’ve never felt before. A connection that loops through you - from the press of your mouths, down to where you fit together. 
It’s fortunate that Logan’s hands still fit at your hips, with how fucked-out and boneless you feel. Trading one cock for another was one thing, but this - being claimed by both of them, the phantom ache as Logan withdraws- it’s something else entirely. 
Your head dropping back to rest against his shoulder, eyes heavy-lidded as you wait for your pulse to stop galloping. Logan’s nose ghosting against your temple, an arm still thrown around your hips. 
A hiss, when Wade slips from you. You can feel the mess they’ve made, sticky against your thighs. How they drip from your fucked-out holes, when you clench around nothing. 
It must do something to him, the way Wade moans when he sits back. Fingers raising - mimicking a camera, complete with the click of his tongue as the shutter. 
“If that doesn’t win me an academy award,” He hums thoughtfully.
“Then I don’t know what the fuck will.”
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Time slows down, after. The low hum of artificial rain from a device on your dresser, layering with the muted city outside. Doesn’t know if it’s minutes or hours since he last moved, and he really can’t bring himself to care.
As long as it’s still dark, then he knows they’ve still got time. 
“So are you going to bake us a sex cake?” Wade yawns, “You know, for completely rocking your shit.”
“A what?” You stir against him - an eye cracking open. 
Logan grunts, his face buried in your shoulder. A hand splayed across your belly, a tug as he pulls you closer.
“Oh my god,” Wade chuckles to himself, “There I go, mixing up timelines again. I infinitely prefer this one, by the way.”
Logan lets the two of you bicker, his eyes slipping shut again. 
Your apartment is quieter than Wade’s. The bed comparable to the one they shared last time. Can’t remember the last time he’s felt a warmth like this. 
Soft, where your back tucks against his chest. His hand shifts to your hip, curving against soft flesh. Wade’s hand rests close enough to touch, fingers just brushing. Facing you, thighs twined together as he sandwiches you between them.
The shower had been nicer, as well. Snug, when you had pulled them in with you. Taking turns under the warm spray. He had commented on it - a way to drag out the scratch of fingers through his hair. The swirl of soap against his skin, and he had been too blissed out to bother with the facade when a second set of hands grabbed his ass. 
Staying just a little longer, as their hands found their way between your thighs. Wade thumbing at your clit as his own fingers fucked the cum deeper into your cunt. Twin marks sucked into your neck, as your legs threatened to give out - still shaky from before.
You stir against him. Words heavy with sleep.
“Wade didn’t say it earlier.” You yawn - shuffling, so you can help over to face him. 
Logan’s brow rises, as you clarify.
“There’s a caveat to our earlier question.”
“Good word choice.” Wade hums, “11 points, and I bet you were a real pleasure to have in class.”
A low chuckle, when your hips press back against his in warning - as your eyes flip up to Logan’s. 
“It’s a two-for-one deal,” The corner of your lips tug up, “It’s both of us, or nothing.”
“All for one, and one for all,” Wade’s chin hooks over your shoulder, ignoring how you elbow him, “And can you really afford not to take that?”
Supposes it’s cute, that you think you have to tell him this. That his eyes haven’t equally wandered, even if it’s only half-admitted. Too caught on wondering if the only something good he had will change, if he truly allows himself to want something. 
That it’s not only the feeling of your mouths on his cock that he revisits, though he does think of that often.
There’s other moments as well. Squeezing hands and smiles and the way you both look at him. The toothbrush that you had ready tonight, just incase he forgot his. The handle blue, when he slipped it in the cup - tucked next to red and purple.
Your words still spark brightly in his chest, settling low behind his ribs. It quells an uneasy twist that’s been lingering there for the past few weeks. 
Something unsteady, finally finding purchase. 
“Don’t know why you’re clarifying though, gorgeous.” His cheek rubs against yours like a cat. Those brown eyes meet his as well, and it’s hard to bite back the low inhale of breath.
“Considering he tongue-fucked the shit out of me earlier, I think he’s good.”
He huffs in reply, but he can’t bite back the curve of his lips. Not anymore - and he finds that he doesn’t want to.
“Yeah.” Logan agrees. That something turning soft inside him, the smile pulling just a little wider. 
“I’m good.”
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thanks so much for reading!! 💖 there's a couple more moments I'd love to explore with them in the future! (but in case I'm not able to, I wanted to end it on this sweet note between them all. )
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cressidagrey · 7 days ago
Text
It's a Love Story - Chapter 1
Summary:
Azriel's shadows find their master a wife.
Azriel would just really like his heart not to get broken again.
And Sky...well, she's just really surprised that that far too handsome male is interested in her at all.
Warning:
Rhys Bashing (as usual), I classified this as Azriel x OC, even when it't technically Azriel x Sellyn Drake (but we kinda know nothing about Sellyn Drake other than that she writes books so Sky is kinda an OC), Cassian is kinda a good guy for once, Azriel has a horrible time, as usual... Stuttering, toxic families (For once I do not mean the IC), Self-Esteem Issues, Secret Identity, Body Image Issues
If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please take care of your own mental health and don't read it.
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Koschei the Deathless Sorcerer was killed by the Spymaster of the Night Court. 
It was less dramatic than it sounded. At least Azriel thought so. 
And if Lucien hadn’t been a fucking idiot and put himself into a position to be kidnapped by the very same deathless sorcerer…then they wouldn’t even have been in that kind of situation. 
But he had been and so it ended with Azriel so magically exhausted that he collapsed the very same moment Truthteller stroke true once more. 
At least Koschei was slayn. 
And the only reason Azriel had gone to rescue the red-headed male in the first place was the fact that  Lucien was Elaine’s mate. Lucien was the male Elain loved. Azriel couldn’t let him die. 
Couldn’t let Elain feel the devastation of a mating bond broken by death…so his decision making had been quick. Either he would manage to get Lucien free…or he would die trying.  There wasn’t many things that he wouldn’t do for the female he loved. Even when he knew it shouldn’t be. 
Azriel had never been very good at knowing when enough was enough after all, wasn’t he?
No price was high enough to pay when it was about Elain’s happiness, as far as Azriel was concerned.  
He hadn't expected to wake up, and yet… there he was. Alive and whole.
*I hope it was worth it, Master,* the shadows sniped at him.
He blinked, taking in the dim light of the room, taking in the familiar surroundings. His room in the House of Wind.
“You are a fucking idiot, you know?” Cassian hissed at him from his place at his bedside and Azriel blinked at him.
"Lucien?" he brought out hoarsely.
"Not as much as a fucking scratch on him. Thanks to you," Cassian responded. "You on the other hand...Madja thought you were going to fucking die from pure magical exhaustion!"
Even Azriel he had...it would have been worth it. Lucien had made it out alive - and that was all that mattered in the end. Elain would be happy. That was all he cared about.
He didn't say that aloud though. 
He took a deep breath, opening his eyes again. "How long was I out?" he asked.
"Three days," Cassian growled. "Three. Days."
Azriel sat up slowly, wincing at the ache in his muscles. It felt like his entire body was one giant bruise, every inch of him pained and sore.
"Lay back down," Cassian snapped.
Azriel shot him a glare, but sank back onto the bed nonetheless. "I'm fine," he grumbled. "Just tired."
"Yeah, well, we'll let Madja be the judge of that," Cassian snapped. "And when you are feeling better, I am going to kill you for going off on your own!"
Azriel just gave him a weary look. "Better me than you," he said dryly. He closed his eyes, feeling a deep exhaustion settle over him. Cassian had Nesta to think about. Azriel didn't. Azriel just had himself.
"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!" Cassian demanded.
Azriel didn't have the energy to answer
He dosed off, feeling the shadows twine around him. They were muttering, words he could c quite understand, bitching under their breath but for once it was comforting.
He woke up, feeling groggy and disoriented. His eyes felt like sandpaper, and his limbs were heavy. He groggily blinked at the room, feeling like he was in a haze.
It took him a moment to realize he wasn't alone. Cassian was still there, as was Madja.
Azriel groaned, pushing himself up into a sitting position. His head was throbbing, and his vision was a little blurred. He rubbed his face, trying to clear the fog from his mind. "Hey," he said, his voice rough and gravelly.
Cassian and Madja both looked at him, their expressions relieved. "How are you feeling?" Madja asked him, moving closer to the bed and waving a hand in front of his face.
"Like I was hit by a wagon," Azriel admitted. His muscles felt tight and sore, his body heavy with fatigue. His wings felt like they were made of lead, and every movement took a huge effort.
"That's unsurprising considering you nearly magicked yourself to death," Madja said gruffly. "Your body had a tremendous amount of stress and strain put on it. You're lucky to be alive."
He gritted his teeth. "Yeah, well, I didn't have a lot of other options," he pointed out.
Madja just let out a huff and began prodding and poking at his body, running her hands over his wings and checking his pulse. Cassian watched anxiously from the side, his arms crossed over his chest.
Azriel bore her ministrations in silence, trying not to wince as she poked and prodded at him. He knew she was just trying to help, but it didn't make the ordeal any more pleasant.
After what felt like forever, she finally stepped back, nodding to herself. "You're lucky, shadowsinger," she said gruffly. "You're lucky you're so damn resilient," she said, and he couldn't tell if it was a compliment or just an observation.
He looked at her blearily. "I guess I can add that to my list of things to be proud of," he muttered sarcastically.
Cassian barked out a laugh, but Madja just rolled her eyes. The door opened at that moment. "How's he doing?" Rhys demanded.
Azriel wanted to let out a sigh at the sight of Rhys. He loved his brother, but he didn't have the energy for a lecture right now.
Madja turned to Rhys. "He's weak and he's stupid," she snapped. "But he's alive."
Rhys let out a sigh, the tension in his shoulders easing just a little. "Thank you, Madja," he said. "Would you...give us a moment?"
Madja nodded, patting Azriel's leg as she got up to leave. "Rest," she ordered. "And no strenuous activity for at least a week."
As soon as the door closed behind her, Rhys turned to Azriel. "What were you thinking?" he demanded, his eyes blazing.
"I was thinking that I was saving Lucien's life," Azriel replied evenly, meeting his brother's gaze. "I couldn't let him die, Rhys."
"Wouldn't that have made it easier for you?* Rhys demanded sharply mentally. *You are the one that fancies himself in love with Elain.*
Maybe it shouldn't hurt him as much as it did. He didn't fancy himself in love with her. He was in love with her. Had been in love with her and Rhys had been the one to order him away from her, which had given Lucien the opportunity to swoop in and Elain had...Elain had given in. Given in to that Siren Song of the Mating Bond and was very much in love with her mate now. 
It hurt to hear Rhys say it like that, like it was just some passing infatuation that he'd gotten over.
*Lucien is her mate,* he responded simply. He didn't say what he really thought. He didn't say that he would rather have Elain be happy and never talk with him again than to have her wilt like one of her flowers because her mate had died and the mating bond would be broken… He didn't say that he loved Elain enough, that her happiness was more important to him than anything else. He didn't say any of that.
*At least you are recognising that now,* Rhys said with a snort.  Azriel didn't flinch. Didn't react.
He hid away in that little corner of his brain he went to when everything became too much. Where he could just shut up all his feelings, all these pesky emotions, and just be...nothing. Nothing. That's the only thing he still had left.
He just shrugged, schooling his face into a careless expression. "I did what I had to do, Rhys," he repeated stubbornly. "Lucien is a good male. He didn't deserve to die."
"Elain wants to thank you," Rhys said suddenly.
Azriel's stomach twisted as Rhys mentioned Elain. He felt a pang of longing in his chest, a desperate ache to see her, to touch her, to hear her voice. But he knew he couldn't. He couldn't subject himself to the torture of seeing her with her mate, seeing her happy in Lucien's arms.
So his answer was definite: "There is no need for that," he said simply.
Rhys gave him a sharp look. "Don't be an idiot," he said gruffly. "She's been worried sick about you."
But Azriel just shook his head, even as his heart thudded in his chest.
*You can keep it together for 5 minutes,* Rhys snapped into his mind.
"Rhys," Cassian said carefully. "If he doesn't want to, just let it..."
"He's being ridiculous," Rhys snapped, interrupting Cassian. "Elain is family.”
Azriel grit his teeth but didn't respond. He didn't have the energy for an argument right now. He just wanted to sleep.
*See her for 5 minute snad then you can sulk like a spoiled child until you feel better about yourself,* Rhys bargained drily.
Azriel hesitated. He knew he should see her, knew that it would make things easier for everyone if he did. But the thought of seeing her, seeing her happy with Lucien when he was so miserable, was like a knife to the gut.
"Does it even matter what I want?" he asked, his voice flat.
Rhys let out a frustrated sigh, looking at him with exasperation. "Az, stop being so damned stubborn. Elain has been worried sick about you - the least you can do is let her see that you are alive."
Azriel didn't say anything. Didn't respond. He just stared at Rhys, feeling like every fiber of his being was being pulled apart. He wanted to see her. Wanted to see her more than anything. But he knew that once he saw her, he wouldn't be able to hold himself together. He would break. He would shatter into a thousand pieces.
"Just...come on, Az," Rhys said finally. "Let her see you. She needs to know you're alright."
Azriel knew he couldn't say no. Knew he couldn't hurt her like that. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. "Fine," he said softly. "But just for five minutes."
Five minutes. He could do five minutes. He had to. For her…
She was still as achingly beautiful as she always had been. These devasting brown eyes, the caramel curls...
Azriel's breath hitched at the sight of her, and he felt a wave of conflicting emotions wash over him. Love, longing, sadness, and that bittersweet pang of being so close to something he could never have.
Behave, Rhys warned him sharply.
He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. Trying to push back that wave of feelings that threatened to drown him. It was just five minutes, he reminded himself. Five minutes. He could do this.
The shadows swirled around him, welling up with intensity, shrouding much of his body in inky blackness and Elain flinched back from them.
She had never quite warmed up to them. Azriel was just thankful for that display, for keeping her away from him as she entered the room, Lucien on her heels.
"How...How are you feeling?" she asked him, her voice soft.
He could tell that she was worried, that she was concerned for him. It warmed something inside him, and he hated himself for it. 
"I'm fine," Azriel answered hoarsely.  "Just tired.
"I...thank you," Elain said softly, binting her lip. "If you hadn't...if you hadn't killed Koschei and freed Lucien...I...Thank you, Azriel."
Hearing her say his name again was like a punch to the gut. It was both a comfort and a torture, to be so close to her and yet so far away. He swallowed hard, biting back the words that threatened to spill out.
"You don't owe me any thanks," he said quietly. "I just did what had to be done."
"I do owe you my life," Lucien disagreed. "Thank you. Without your interference...I wouln't have survived, " he said flatly.
Azriel just shrugged, feeling a wave of bitterness wash over him. He had saved Lucien, had risked his life to save the male who was mated to the female he loved. It was a strange sort of irony.
"It's fine," he said roughly. "I'm just glad I got there in time."
He couldn't look at her. Couldn't look at Lucien. It hurt too much. So he stared at the floor, willing the shadows to consume him entirely.
"We are all just happy you are feeling alright," Elain said softly. "I...I was worried about you. Everyone was."
Azriel forced himself to look up at her, his heart clenching at the sincerity in her eyes. She really had been worried about him. "I'm alright," he promised her, his voice rough. "Really. I just need some rest."
Elain hesitated, taking a step forward. He could hear her heartbeat, could feel the warmth radiating off her skin. It was torture to be so close to her and yet so far away. It was torture to know that she was so close and yet so unattainable. He wanted to reach out, to touch her, to hold her, but he knew he couldn't. He held onto that last shred of reason he had.
She tugged a piece of hair behind one delicately arched ear...and that was the moment he saw the gold and pearl ring that decorated her ring finger.
"Congratulations." He wasn't sure how he even brought out these words...how he managed to make them sound...appropriately happy for her.
It took a herculean effort to say those words, to offer a smile that barely reached his eyes. Every fibre of his being was screaming in protest, yelling that he should have been the one giving her that ring, that he should have been the one by her side. But he pushed back those feelings, burying them deep down inside of himself. He couldn't let her see how he truly felt. He couldn't let her know how much it was tearing him apart to stand there and look at her. Look at her with her mate, with the male she loved, the one she had chosen. 
"Congratulation," he repeated, his voice a little rougher than before.
"It wouldn't have been possible without you," Elain said, with a smile.
Azriel just nodded, feeling a lump in his throat. He couldn't find the words to respond, couldn't find the words to express the tangle of emotions swirling inside of him. He just sat there, feeling more alone and isolated than he had in a long time.
Elain took another step in his direction, seemingly ready to reach out, but Cassian intercepted her. placing a gentle hand on Elain's shoulder. "He needs his rest," he said softly. "Let's leave him be for now."
Azriel felt a pang of gratitude towards Cassian. Elain hesitated, looking torn.
"I wish you every happiness," Azriel brought out his voice hoarsely. Not even a lie.  It was the frank truth in these words and Elain gave him a smile, before Lucien's hand came to rest at her lower back, guiding her out of the room.
Thank the cauldron. They were gone. 
He slumped back into the pillow.  He was falling apart. He was exhausted, emotionally and physically. He just wanted to be left alone, to lick his wounds in peace.
"Az..." Cassian said carefully, but he cut him off.
“I am tired,” Azriel said, his voice hoarse. “I need to sleep.”
The shadows swirled around him tighter. 
Rhys and Cassian exchanged a look, before Cassian nodded, "Alright," he said. "Get some rest."
He laid down properly, closing his eyes, calling the shadows to him wordlessly. They swamred around him immediately. Damn Near suffocating him.  It was the only thing that kept him from starting to sob.
The shadows embraced him, wrapping him in their inky blackness, shielding him from the outside world. They were his only comfort, just like they had been for centuries. 
*We are there, Master.* They promised him softly. *It will be fine, Master.*
He didn’t believe a fucking word they said. 
*We are not willing to lose you, Master. We aren’t interested in finding a new master,* they told him seriously. He choked out a laugh that turned into a sob. 
*Sleep, Master. We'll keep watch,* they promised him.
And they did. 
Bone deep exhaustion meant that at least his sleep was dreamless. At least that was given to him. It was a small mercy. 
When he woke up again, Nesta was there, sitting in an armchair reading.
Azriel blinked, feeling disoriented and groggy. He sat up slowly, wincing as his wounds protested the movement. Nesta looked up from her book, her expression neutral.
"How are you feeling?" she asked him quietly.
"Fine," he answered, his voice hoarse. He was fine. He would be fine. 
"Thank you," Nesta said suddenly.
Azriel looked up at her, surprised. He wasn't even sure what she was thanking him for.
"For what?" he asked, his voice rough with sleep.
“You nearly got yourself killed to save my sister’s mate. I think Thank you is the least I owe you," Nesta said drily.
She mustered him with grey eyes and he knew that she knew. Knew that she knew or at the very least could guess about his feelings for Elain and probably be right. She wouldn't say anything, but she knew.
He didn’t want to talk about this anymore. It was over with. Done. 
Lucien and Elain could be happy and Azriel…Azriel would hide away somewhere. 
"You don't owe me anything," he waved Nesta off weakly, but she didn’t seem to want to take the hint, sticking out her chin. 
"Yes, I do," Nesta disagreed. "You are the reason why my little sister is happy right now," she told him fiercely. He swallowed down the unkind words at the tip of her tongue...didn't say anything. Didn't.... He didn’t want to think about this. He didn’t…
"Is there anything I can do?" Nesta asked him, her voice soft. "Anything at all, Az?" H knew that he could ask for anything and Nesta would do her level best to give it to him. She was stubborn like that. He had half a mind to ask her to use her silver flames to put him on fire and put him out of his misery. 
He didn’t. 
Even that wouldn’t fix it. 
There was nothing. There was absolutely nothing to make it any better. There was nothing that could...that could fix the ache in his chest.
"Porridge," he said, his voice hoarse.
"Porridge?" Nesta repeated incrediously.
"Porridge with honey. I am hungry," he repeated, meeting her gaze. Food. Food. More Sleep. More Work. He could fill his waking hours with useless things and everybody would be happy. 
Nesta just looked at him for a moment, then inclined her head.
"Porridge with honey. Alright," she agreed. Just a moment later a massive bowl of Porridge with honey drizzled on top, appeared on his bedside table, so hot it was steaming. Seemed like the house was in a mood to spoil him. He even got a whiff of cinnamon from it.
"Thank you," he thanked Nesta's creature aloud as the shadows fetched the bowl and held it up for him to eat a spoonful. "What are you reading?" he asked Nesta, changing the topic. 
She was polite enough not to say anything about it. 
Nesta held up her book. “The newest Sellyn Drake novel,” she replied.
"Is it any good?" he inquired, stirring his porridge gently.
“It’s brilliant," Nesta gushed, her eyes devoured the pages as soon as she looked down to continue reading.
"You seem to really like it," he pointed out, taking another bite of his porridge. "It is brilliant," Nesta agreed readily. “The plot is so intricate and twists and turns and the characters are so deep and complex and their emotions are so real and the romance is so...” she trailed off, blushing slightly.
He opened his mouth to respond...but then he heard her.
Mor. Of course.
He couldn’t deal with Mor. Not right now. But there she was, Rhys hot on her heels.
Nesta heard her too, rolling her eyes, curling back up on her chair, making it very clear that while she was going nowhere, she was letting him deal with it on her own. 
And he didn’t want to deal with Mor. 
But there she was. 
Mor came strolling into the room, her usual confident smile firmly in place. Rhys just looked at Azriel, his expression unreadable.
He didn't say it.  But Azriel knew. Behave. That’s all Rhys was telling him these days.  Either it was about Elain and Lucien...or about Mor and Emerie. Like Azriel would ever do anything to put that in jeopardy. Like Azriel was a jealous child that wouldn't allow Mor to be happy on her own terms. Like...
Azriel ignored the sharp pang of hurt that shot through him at Rhys's look.
Still it was better than looking at Mor…he couldn’t bear to look at Mor. 
 Didn't want to look at Mor, in her usual bright red, skin baring dress, that clung to all her curves...didn't want to look at the female he had spent centuries in love with even when he had known that she was never going to return his affections...it hadn't helped him. He had still been in love with her.
And he had still hoped...hoped against all hope that maybe...maybe there would be a time where she would return his affection...that maybe there would be a time where...
But there wouldn't. He knew. He knew. And he had still been in love with her.
Would have given damn near anything for her attention, for that broad smile on her face to be directed in his direction...would have given anything for her to bound over to his bedside and envelope him in her arms...to feel her soft skin against his as she hugged him fiercely, cinnamon and citrus enveloping him.
Now...now it felt like somebody was pouring salt into a gaping wound. Now it felt as painful as the fire and oil on his hands had. She was flaying him alive and she wasn’t even aware that she was hurting him. 
"How are you feeling, Az?" Mor's voice was gentle, concerned. He knew it was genuine, knew that Mor really cared about him. But he couldn't bring himself to look at her. Not when his heart was bleeding out just from the sound of her voice.
"Fine," he answered, his voice flat. "Nothing that sleep won't fix," he promised her, even as her hands fluttered around him as she sat down on his bedside...
She was so close. He could reach out and touch her, could feel the soft fabric of her dress against his fingertips. He clenched his fists, willing himself to keep his hands to himself.
But he couldn't help it. He looked up at her, meeting her eyes. He could see the concern there, the worry. He felt a pang of guilt for putting that look on her face. He didn't want to cause her any distress. 
"I'm just glad you are feeling better," Mor sighed, gently patting his arm. "You had us all worried for a moment there," she admitted softly.
Even just the touch of her hand felt like she was branding him. He wanted to flinch away and forced himself no to.
It was like a bittersweet poison, the way she touched him. It was so familiar, so comforting. But it was also so painful, a reminder of what he could never have.
He looked away, staring down at his hands. They were shaking, just a little. He clasped them together, the monstrous scars that covered them, standing out starkly.
The shadows trembled around him, pulling nearer, growing darker and Mor watched them with a raised eyebrow. "Worried, are they?" she teased him slightly.
*You are fine, Master,* the shadows promised him. *No more fire,* they promised him fiercely. But it didn’t help. He didn’t trust himself to speak without his voice cracking.
Mor seemed to sense his discomfort and stood up, her hand slipping from his arm. "Just rest and get better soon, alright?" she said softly, taking a step back.
"Thank you," he thanked her, his voice hoarse.
He risked a glance up at her, just a quick look. Her face was soft, her eyes filled with warmth. He felt his heart squeeze in his chest and he had to look away again. He wasn't sure how much more of this he could take.
"We should let him rest, Mor," Rhys said, giving Azriel another look.
"Right, right," Mor agreed, already turning towards the door. "Rest up, Az," she said again, giving him one last smile as she disappeared out the door.
Azriel felt a sense of relief wash over him as she left the room. 
Gone. Thank the cauldron. He couldn't take much more of her presence, not right now. 
He didn't even want to know why Rhys had accompanied her. Probably because he was worried that Azriel wasn't going to behave.
What was he supposed to do instead? Tell Mor about how much she had hurt him over the centuries? How she had given him jut enough scraps of her affection to make him yearn for more but never telling him that she didn’t love him like that? 
He wasn’t going to do that. 
He didn't want to look at Rhys right now, didn't want to face the scrutiny of his high lord's gaze. He just wanted to be left alone.
He knew that Rhys was watching him, that the male wanted to say something. But Azriel didn't want to hear it. He didn't want to hear the lecture, the warning. He just wanted to be left alone.
The room fell silent, except for the sound of his own breathing. He closed his eyes and sank deeper into the mattress. Maybe if he just pretended to sleep, Rhys would leave him alone.
"He's tired. You should let him sleep," Nesta said flatly.
Leave it to Nesta to tell Rhys to stuff it, he reflected weakly. He heard Rhys sigh, but he kept his eyes closed. And after a moment, he heard the sound of footsteps leaving the room.
He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding, feeling a wave of relief wash over him. 
Alone. Safe. Mostly at least. 
Life went on. It always did.
The exhaustion went away after a few days... he caught up on Paperwork in the meantime. He sent the shadows off to find him one information or other and they didn't even bitch to him that badly, which told him that even they felt bad for him.
Behave. That’s all Rhys was telling him these days.
So he did. He behaved.
He did his job. He did everything Rhys could possibly want from his spymaster. 
He didn’t argue. He didn’t fight. He did his job and he trained and he did everyhting that was expected off him. 
And then he hadn’t tortured himself enough… and he went to visit Rosehall.
Where his mother lived.
Under the Mountains had it’s own kind consequences. This was one of them: His mother didn’t even want to talk to him anymore. 
50 years without him...and his mother had made herself a new family. A family that he wasn’t welcome in. A family that she wanted him nowhere near. He couldn’t fault her for it. Not at all.
She had been half a child when she had had him and it hadn’t been by choice.
So who could blame her for making a new family with people that weren’t as fucked up in the head as he was? Not Azriel.
Azriel didn’t blame her at all. Azriel left her in peace. He didn't reach out. He made sure that she was fine, that she had enough money to never worry about it and otherwise dissappeared from her life. 
His shadows kept an eye on her…He shored up the wards around Rosehall and caught a glimpse of her. And then he left it at that. She looked happy. That’s all he cared about.
Happy and safe and…she didn’t need him. She didn’t want him around her either, and he could understand that too.
And still, it hurt. It hurt so fucking much. 
But 
*You know the rules,* he told the shadows quietly. *You don’t need to report to me about her anymore. Keep an eye on her and only tell me if she is in danger or hurt.*
*Yes, Master,* they agreed readily. 
So he went back to the House of Wind. Back to Velaris…Back to work. 
He went back to his routine, back to his duties, back to his mask of indifference. He hid the pain behind his usual stoic facade, only letting his shadows know how much it hurt. He threw himself into his work, using it as a way to distract himself from his own loneliness.
And when he wasn't working, he would spend hours and hours in the training ring in the House of Wind, working himself to exhaustion. Anything to try and drown out the ache in his heart.
For gods sake, he even attended Elain and Lucien’s mating ceremony. And gifted them an appropriate gift. He behaved just like Rhys wanted him too.
He even summoned up a smile for them on their special day, hiding his own pain behind a mask of false happiness. He congratulated them both, feeling a pang in his chest at the sight of Elain's beaming face. But he didn’t let it show. He behaved. Like Rhys wanted him too.
He stayed for the whole thing. Stayed for the dancing, stayed for the feast. Stayed until he could physically take it no more. And then he had retreated to that training ring again, beating his pain and loneliness out on whatever dummy he could find.
He was so tired. Tired of hiding, tired of pretending. Tired of pretending like nothing was wrong. He wanted nothing more than to just scream and rage and shout and cry. But he didn’t. He held it all in. Bottled it up like he was so good at doing.
He was in the bathtub, sluicing off the sweat he was drenched in…shaking off his wings just because he could move them however he wanted to
*You should go out, Master,* the shadows suggested seriously. *Go out and find a female.*
He just snorted. *Not interested,* he sniped back harshly. *I am not getting my heart broken again.*
Everybody could just fuck off and leave him alone. Even when he was aching…aching for somebody in his life that loved him. For whom he could be everything. Somebody he could dote on. Somebody that wanted his attention, that wanted his love…that would like his ruined hands on their body and wasn’t paid to simply acccept it. 
*You could let us pick her!* the shadows suggested brightly.
His eyes snapped back open and he glared at the shadows swirling around the room. *Absolutely not,* he said firmly. *I mean it, you stay out of it.*
*We can’t do a worse job than you do,* they sniped at him. *Neither The Seer nor The Morrigan would have suited you at all.*
*Excuse me?!* 
*You heard us, Master,* the shadows said, sounding far too smug for their own good. *And you know it.*
Azriel just glared at them, feeling his temper start to rise. *I know I wasn’t good enough for them,* he snapped. *You don’t need to tell me that.*
*You think you weren’t good enough for them?!* The shadows asked him incredulously.
*They deserve better. So much better than me,* he said quietly. "I'm not good enough for either of them. Never was.*
What was he, after all? An Illyrian bastard? A monster? Either? Both? 
He had never said it out loud before, not even to himself. But in that moment, lying in the water, his heart so raw and exposed, he couldn't help but speak the truth that he had always known but never admitted to himself. "I'm not good enough for either of them," he repeated softly, the weight of his words settling heavily on his chest.
He knew it was true. Mor was a golden ray of light, the embodiment of beauty and grace. Elain was sweet and gentle and kind, a pure soul in a sea of darkness. 
And what was he? Damaged. Broken. Scarred. Inside and out.
He had done unspeakable things, things that would haunt his nightmares for centuries to come. He was nothing compared to them. He was darkness, they were light. And they deserved better than him, far better than him.
Even if he had loved Mor with every fiber of his being, even if he had yearned for her with every beat of his heart, even if he had dreamed of her every night, it didn't matter. It had never mattered. Because he wasn't good enough for her. And he never would be.
He wasn’t good enough for Elain. The mother hadn’t thought it to be prudent to make them mates. Both of his brother had been gifted with a mating bond, but not him. That should tell him everything he needed to know abotu the state of his own soul. 
So why…why should he even try anymore. 
Why shouldn’t he just stew in his own misery, alone and heartbroken and a monster and expect everybody to just leave him alone? There was no point of putting himself out there again. There was nothing out there for him. Nothing but more pain.​​
So he closed his eyes again, sinking lower into the water, letting the warmth soothe his aching muscles. He let out a long sigh, his mind already racing with thoughts of his next missions, his next assignments. Because that was all that really mattered now. His job. His duties. His responsibilities. That was all he had left.
Behave. That’s all he was good for. 
*Alright, that’s fucking enough,* the shadows snapped. *You are not letting The High Lord talk to you like that any longer, Master.*
Azriel was so surprised by their fucking vehemence that he could just stare at them. 
*The Morrigan used you for centuries to make herself feel better about herself,* the shadows snapped. *She used the feelings you had for her and that she was very much aware of to strangle you and keep you in line.*
Azriel swallowed. He knew they were right. He knew that Mor had used his feelings for her for a long time. She had led him on, given him false hope, only to yank it away time and time again. It had been a painful cycle, one that had left him feeling used and broken and worthless.
*She could have stopped at any time but she never did,* the shadows hissed. *But instead she hurt you on purpose. Instead of turning you down, she slept with other males to show you that you would never have her!*
Azriel felt bile rise in the back of his throat. Mor had flaunted her other lovers in front of him, making it clear that he would never be enough for her. She had used his devotion to her as a weapon against him, wielding it whenever it suited her needs. And he had let her. He had been foolish, desperate enough to cling onto any scrap of affection she might throw his way.
*And The Seer?! Granted she has never done that, but her feelings for you weren’t particular deep when she replaced you on her affections with The Fox as soon as you weren’t available anymore! If she had cared, truly cared, she would have thought about what happened during Winter Solstice,* the shadows snapped.
*And The High Lord? Don’t even let us get started on him,* the shadows snapped. *You haven’t even done anything since that Winter Solstice, and he keeps behaving like some kind of despotic Overlord, worried that his orders won’t be followed. If you wanted to punch him in the face, you probably had every right to it,* they mumbled.
Azriel couldn’t help but snort. 
*You deserve better, Master,* The shadows told him fiercely. *You deserve somebody that loves you.* 
. He wanted to believe the shadows. He wanted to believe that he was good enough, that he deserved more. But the scars on his body and the memories in his mind told him otherwise. He had done terrible things, things that he could never undo. How could someone like that be good enough for anyone?
*Alright,* he finally agreed weakly. *Find me a house,* he told the shadows, as he closed his eyes.
*A house? What kind of house?* the shadows gave back, sounding surprised.
*A house,* he repeated. *A home. Somewhere in Velaris. Find me a home.* Something that could just be his.
A home. The idea sent a flutter through his stomach. He had never…never truly had a home. Had something that could just be his and nobody else’s. Just…a place that was his, where he could be whoever he wanted, where he was accepted and loved...it was appealing. Maybe even more than just appealing.
He closed his eyes, picturing it in his mind. A cozy little house, just large enough for himself. Warm and cozy and filled with light.
*That’s what a male needs to take a wife after all, right?* He asked, a flicker of uncertainty crossed his face. Was that what he should want? What he was supposed to want? He had never really thought about getting married before. But now, at the mention of it, he couldn't help but feel a pang of longing. A wife...a family...love and companionship. It all sounded so…so nice.
*You want to get married, Master?* the shadows asked curioulsy. *To whom?*
*You pick,* he told the shadows. They swarmed out in pure excitment. Azriel couldn’t even remmeebr the last time they had been so excited. 
He couldn't help but chuckle at their reaction. Maybe they would do a better job than him. At least they could probably sieve out females that were in a romantic relationship or preferred females themselves. 
*Find me somebody that I could make happy. Somebody that….Somebody that could want me.* Some long-suffering female for whom Azriel could maybe try to be enough. Somebody that would love him.
*What should she look like?* they asked seriously.
*I don’t care. Find me somebody that loves me and she’ll be the most beautiful female to me anyway.*
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tetzoro · 6 months ago
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fluffy little blurb of kissing zoro’s scarred eye . established relationship (?) WC : 622 . dividers by @/cafekitsune ᰔ
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“do you trust me?” your words jumbled out in one shaky breath of air as you make your approach towards zoro — the man who had been taking his mid-afternoon nap on the sunny’s deck for the past half hour.
“huh?” zoro cracked his eye open, watching you kneel before him. the golden sky illuminated behind you, wrapping around you in a soft hue of innocence, a stark contrast to your usual demeanor. something was definitely on your mind, so he raised his head up off of the wooden banister he was using as a pillow.
“i said do you trust me?” you repeat, your hand gently resting on his forearm. the vulnerable look in your eye told him that you weren’t pulling any tricks, not a drop of mischief in your irises that held the hope of a thousand stars.
of course he trusted you, you were one of the people he trusted most in this world. always beside him while fighting through whatever challenges you all faced, sitting next to him during meals times, keeping him company while he works out. you’re privy to everything in his life. the question was almost laughable.
“yes.” zoro answered simply. he was curious as to what brought on this sudden question though. did he do something that made you think he didn’t trust you?
“good. close your eye.” you whispered, leaning into his personal space now. if he had to guess, he figured you were about to crawl into his lap like you sometimes do when you nap with him, curling into his body before the two of you doze off under the warm sun.
so he doesn’t argue with you, lets you do whatever you please and shuts his eye.
but you didn’t move.
he wanted to open his eye back up to see what you were up to but as if you read his mind — your voice hums, reminding him to be patient.
zoro feels your presence getting closer, your face moving towards his. were you going to kiss him? he squirmed a little under the uncertainty.
but you surprise him, you always do. gently, you press your lips against his scarred eye, a feathers touch that if he wasn’t so keen with his observation; he might’ve missed it. the kiss itself didn’t linger, but your presence did, the reassurance flooding through his veins and drowning him in the light of your love.
the closeness begins to mend a fracture in his heart that he never knew about, carefully stitching it back together with a thread of affection he hopes never goes away — stubbornly imprinting itself on the ever beating muscle that sings to the rhythm of your name.
zoro accepted the state of his eye long ago. positively convinced that it will make him stronger, that when he finally reaches his goal, it will become that much greater because of all the challenges he’s had to overcome — everything he’s had to endure come to fruition.
he never thought it would bring this tenderness in his life, that your sweet nature would rub off on him by the ghost of your lips pressing against the scarred skin.
but it’s all over far too soon, zoro’s head falling toward your lips to chase the sensation that graced his skin like molten sunshine. but he straightens up, opens his eye and peers down at you curiously.
“was that okay?” you ask, nervous from his reaction. his body melts back into something mushier than the state he left it in. a new feeling blooming in his chest as he pulls you into his lap, brushing his nose against yours before meeting your anxious gaze.
“yeah.” he smiles a little, enjoying how your nerves flow away into the wind as he wraps his arms around your waist, securing you in place before settling back into his napping position. “that was more than okay.”
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thank you so much for reading ᰔ
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kisses4reid · 8 months ago
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convenient | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,,
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summary - studying while working at a convenience store is easier that thought when a regular happens to be a genius.
genre - fluff, fem!college!reader x earlyseasons!spencer
warnings - school work, that always scares me. they’re the same age!!! early 20s. mention of condoms.
edit - bc this is getting so much love, i’m opening a taglist for part 2!!! just comment or put in a req to join the ‘convenient’ taglist 🫶
the chime of the door didn’t phase you, the creaks and squeaks of the store slowly becoming one with you. flipping onto the next page of your biology textbook, something that was unnecessarily expensive, you shake your hand to get rid of the cramp you slowly became aware of.
it was only when a wave of man’s cologne and a plastic bag stood in front of you that you ripped your eyes off of your books.
he was tall, skinny, had long(ish) hair and looked amazing. there wasn’t really anything else to say, other than that the thin smile he displayed toward you made you smile back.
“just these for today?” you ask, fixing your posture and pushing some loose strands back to their place behind your ears.
“yes, thank you.” he says, voice as timid as his appearance. it was a bag of apples, a 2 minute bolognese container, and a bag of coffee. you scan them, weigh the apples, and watch him as his long fingers slip through his wallet to find a debit card. “have a good night.”
your eyes return to your textbook as you go to erase an answer you had previous written, obviously wrong.
“the heads of the phospholipid bilayer are hydrophilic, not phobic.” he says. it surprised you, making you return to his gaze slowly before realising you should probably reply instead of staring at the man.
“oh- yeah, thanks. i caught that it’s just, i guess i’ve been staring at the same words for so long i can’t differentiate them.” you give a small fake laugh as he nods, giving you a long look before coughing and leaving promptly. he leaves with his bag, and his hands fiddling with each other.
you can barely focus after that. customers come and go, and although you’ve only been doing the late shift for a week, this encounter with the unknown man couldn’t leave your mind. the way he dressed, his smell, his voice and how he corrected you (which would totally annoy you usually). you hoped he would return.
and he did. three days later, this time even later than the last.
you were stuck in a dark purple sweater, the aircon in the store blasting cold air that you were too lazy to fix. and although the air flipped pages of notes and questions, you were still stuck in a trance.
the blasting aircon blew a wind of mens cologne this time, it smelt like wood. your eyes glanced up from your books and trailed the familiar man, noticing how he was reusing the plastic bag from days before.
he returned to the checkout with apples, a 3 minute cannelloni, and a bag of coffee. he was now the one trailing you, “where did Latrice go?” you look up, chuckling a bit,
“Latrice is getting paid by her daughter-in-law to babysit the twins,” you reply, surprised you were willing to tell him so much information. he could be a stalker for all you know. or just a regular, obviously that’s way more likely. “trust me, i miss her as much as you do. $14.98.”
he nodded with a small smile and sliced his card down the side of the card reader.
you searched for him now, only after two encounters you were already craving some sort of human interaction at work. usually you avoided it since the only other ‘regulars’ were old men and mean teenagers. you had switched to writing a biology report on your computer, the sound of the keyboard almost covering the sound of the door bell.
a bag of apples, a 2 minute lasagne, a bag of coffee, and a banana muffin.
“big night?”
“uh- what?”
“you got a banana muffin. i thought you were starting to become predictable.” you bagged his things as he chuckled, looking over you and your laptop. you noticed only because you were also looking at him, “biology report. wanna read it?” you joked, but he didn’t catch that part.
now he was behind the register, sat on your wheelie stool reading and editing your report while walking you through everything he was changing. you didn’t understand most, but you were just happy to stay around him. you weren’t even scared of Old Alan, the guy who only buys cucumbers and condoms. nobodies ever asked him, don’t think anyone wants to know.
“what’s your word limit?”
“3500.”
“only 3500?” he gave you a raised eyebrow, voice getting slightly higher. he coughed, “sorry, that’s nearly impossible.”
you sigh, “i know… i’m y/n by the way. thought you should know who your helping cheat.”
“i’m not helping you cheat, i’m just… editing,” he hit backspace a few times with a lowered bottom lip, “my names spencer.”
you smiled and crossed your arms as you leaned against the counter. spencer. yeah, that sounded nerdy enough.
pt. 2
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yearning-for-autumn · 9 months ago
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Would That I -- Part 11
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A/N: God this took me aaages to get to a point where I liked it. But here we goooo, finally some interaction between reader and Eris! Thank you so much for your support on Part 1, there will be one more part after this. I hope you enjoy! Based on an amazing ask from @fandomsmultiverse who has the best ideas.
Pairing: Eris x Illyrian!Reader
Warnings: Swearing, masturbation (male), oral sex
Word count: 5k
Part 1 Part 3
Were you jealous?
You could have thrown the letter into the fire. There was no need for a signature for you to know exactly who it was from, and you seethed. After he had kissed her neck, Eris had proposed to Nesta. Proposed. And yet here he was, writing letters, crawling back to you. Imagining him on his hands and knees, grovelling, soothed the hurt somewhat.
You re-read the letter again and again, losing yourself in ever worsening fantasies of Eris begging at your feet.
How dare he.
It stung all the more knowing your answer, deep down, was yes. Knowing that when you had locked eyes with your mate—your mate—all you could feel was the cold sting of envy. He was yours. You hated him. You needed him. You wanted him dead.
You crumpled the letter, then unfurled it and put it in a box, kicking it under your bed.
Cauldron damn and burn him.
The next week you received another letter.
Your silence tells me everything, little fox. And here I was thinking that you hated me. Send my regards to Lucien, I hear he has taken to sheltering in your dingy court.
You huffed an angry breath. But you read it over and over, searching for something. Something to be truly mad about. You came up short. Lucien was spending more and more time at the house of wind these days. Avoiding Elain. You had found a firm friendship trying to help him settle more in Velaris. Cauldron knows your brothers weren’t doing enough to help.
You found him in the living room, reading.
“Your brother sends his regards.” You said, watching intently for his reaction. His metal eye whirred as he looked up from his book.
“Hello to you too.” He said after a pause. “Which brother?”
“Eris.”
“Ah.”
You waited for him to say something more, but it never came. You sat down next to him biting your fingernail, debating whether to let him see the letter.
“Read this. Please.” You said, thrusting it into his hands. He read it, looked up at you, then back down at the letter. His lips curled into a grin.
“Oh, he’s practically begging for you.” He said, still grinning. You scoffed and grabbed the letter from his hands.
“He hates me. And I hate him.” You said decidedly. Lucien stifled a laugh with the back of his hand.
“Ok. So he’s writing you letters for you to...burn, I presume? Just to get you all riled up?” He bit his lip when he saw your murderous expression. “My brother wouldn’t be writing to you if he wasn’t interested in you. Rhysand told me about the ball, about how you were staring.”
“He proposed to Nesta that night, not me.” You said.
“Ah, so you are jealous.” Lucien teased. You growled.
“You are not helping.”
“Sorry.” He apologised, though he didn’t look remorseful, “I don’t know what you want me to say. My brother ruined my life, forced me to watch my love be killed and now he’s mated to someone who hates him. Seems like fair retribution. Send him my love of course.”
He was joking, but you saw through his mask of indifference. His unharmed eye revealed much more than you suspected he knew. He was pleading to speak to his brother. Despite your better judgement, you resolved to write Eris back, if only for Lucien’s sake. Excusing yourself to your room, you picked up your pen and paper.
Lucien sends his love in return. In future, if you wish to speak with your brother I suggest you contact him directly.
It disappeared into the ether and you stared at your desk. Another letter landed in front of you before you could get up. You blinked in surprise. You had spent so long hating this male that you had never spoken directly, reports of his cruelty coming second hand, and yet here he was, his handwriting so hurried you could have sworn he was excited you had written back.
Unlike you, Lucien would burn his letters. I will let myself believe Lucien sent his love sincerely, please let him know I wish to see him. I also wish to invite you to dine with me.
Why in all the realms would I dine with you?
You are my mate, are you not? It has snapped for you also. I saw how you stared at the ball. Nesta is a beautiful female, but you should know I am not the unfaithful type.
You have no one to be faithful to.
You wrote back, cruelty flowing onto the paper. It felt good for a moment, before the bond soured it. You stared at the letters piling up with increasing disdain. Who did he think he was, acting as if you were already his. His reply popped onto your desk moments later.
There you are, unfortunately, most correct, little fox.
---
Eris spent the next few days in agony. He had never expected you to write back, but after seeing the hunger in your eyes that night… If there was any chance you had changed your mind about him, he would be in the Night Court in a heartbeat. Rhysand had been keeping all diplomatic matters at arms length, not allowing any visitation into Velaris. Eris was no stranger to the territorial behaviour of a male with a pregnant wife.
On that note, he was supposed to be shopping to find a gift for his nephew today. He whistled for Cheddar, who brought along Lulu, his youngest. Eris rolled his eyes.
“Ok, Lulu can come too if she must. But both of you will have to be on a short lead.” He said, mostly to himself, but Cheddar cocked her head in an inquisitive gesture that made Eris grin, rubbing her head with both hands.
He was in a small toy shop, full of handmade stuffed bears and wooden doll houses, when the letter appeared unceremoniously in his hands. Excusing himself outside, he slunk into a nearby alleyway to read it.
Lucien has agreed to see you.
Was all it read. His heart leapt into his throat. He scribbled a response on a scrap of spare paper in his pocket and it vanished from his hands before he had time to regret it. The response was immediate.
Rhysand will allow you in Velaris for two hours under strict supervision from Lucien. Tomorrow at noon.
Eris tried to catch his breath, not wanting to admit to himself how overjoyed he was that his baby brother wanted to see him. Not only that, but he was granted permission to enter the Night Court, Velaris for that matter, where you would surely be. He pet Lulu gently, grounding himself. Now to think of an excuse as to why he would be absent from Court tomorrow. In the shop, he picked out a soft brown bear with a doe eyed expression, letting himself believe it was because his nephew loved bears, and not because its glossy eyes reminded him of you.
Beron took the lie surprisingly well; any dealings with the Night Court were beneficial to Autumn, which was dangerously close to having few allies in Prythian. Beron liked Kier, and whilst he looked down on them, appreciated the brutality of the Illyrian armies. Night would be a strong ally indeed. If only he knew exactly where their loyalties lay.
Eris laid in bed, the window ajar, unable to sleep, thinking of you. His mind straying to that night in the Hewn City, how you looked in your silken gown, back deliciously low to show off your magnificent wings. You had been downright sinful, and he had had to remind himself to keep his eyes on Nesta, who, whilst stunning, held no candle to you that night. Not to him. He ran a hand down his chest as his cock stirred. 
Memories consumed him. The heat of the ballroom. Trailing his eyes all the way up the slit in your dress, dragging his gaze to the top of your thigh, no panty line visible. His hand grasped his cock through his slacks as he imagined peeling the fabric back to reveal your unclothed cunt, and he squeezed hard as he saw himself drop to his knees.
“No panties?” His voice was husky. You gave a coy smile,
“Wanted you to have me, Eris.” You breathed. “Wanted you to taste how much I need you.”
Unbuttoning his slacks and freeing his cock, Eris hissed as he pumped his already dripping length. Your pussy would make a delectable mess of your thighs, drooling just for him. He licked his lips and fucked his hand harder as he fantasised. Your moans would be music to his ears as he messily ate you out, tongue laving across your swollen clit, sucking and nibbling as your thighs shook with pleasure.
Debauched sounds filled the room, the wet shlick of his cock becoming the squelching wetness of your pussy as he finally sunk his fingers deep inside of you. He wanted your hands in his hair. He wanted to guide you down onto the floor so that he could feast on you properly, drink you down, consume you. You would cry out, just the thought of it had him squeezing the base of his cock to keep from cumming too soon. His hips bucked into his fist at a punishing pace, his eyes screwed shut and head thrown back in pleasure. 
The bond was thrumming like drums in his chest, heightening every feeling as his thick member pulsed, spurting precum into his hand. It didn’t take long until he growled, his whole body tensing and his cock painting his stomach white with his seed. When he groaned out in pained pleasure, it was your name on his lips.
---
You stood by Lucien’s side, the redhead almost vibrating with nervousness.
“Remind me why I let you talk me into this?” He asked. You smiled gently, placing a hand on his shoulder.
“Because you want to see him. I could tell the moment I gave you that letter. You’re happy he still thinks of you.”
“It’s complicated.” He groused, “We haven’t spoken properly in decades. What if—what if he’s not the male I remember?” You felt your heart break at Lucien’s words, cursing yourself for meddling in his relationships. You just wanted to see him. Once more. To confirm that your hatred was justified. But you pushed that aside, feeling terrible for dragging Lucien into your little game.
“Lucien, he’s your brother. I know you haven’t been feeling so settled here lately, I think seeing him will do you some good.” It was the best you could do, unable to tell him for certain that the Eris you knew was the same doting brother he had told you about. You squeezed his arm and were relieved to feel him relax.
“Will you stay with me, just for a bit?” He asked. You wanted to say no, but you couldn’t, not to Lucien. You smiled at him gently.
“Of course I will. Just don’t expect me to have anything nice to say.” He laughed, but his bright smile faded as he spotted Eris walking up the path, escorted by a deadly looking Azriel. Your breath caught in your chest when you saw your mate, impeccably dressed and ruggedly handsome. Your eyes lingered for a moment too long. Azriel shot you a warning glare, then winnowed away. Eris, finally free of his chaperone, looked at Lucien and you felt nervousness wash down the bond. He dug in his bag and pulled out two small boxes.
“Lucien.” He said.
“Eris.”
“Mother baked apple cinnamon biscuits. They are—were your favourite.” He handed one of the boxes to Lucien, who took it with so much care it could have contained something much more valuable.
Eris turned to you, “I also brought you something.”
Surprised, you were handed a little box of your own. You peeked inside and heat rushed to your cheeks. A small dagger, with jewel encrusted hilt lay on a bed of luxurious velvet. A courting gift. You looked at him incredulously. He was here to see his brother, he hated the very thought of you, why in all the realms was he bringing you courting gifts.
“What am I supposed to do with this?” You frowned, looking down at the dagger as if it had offended you.
“Usually they’re used for stabbing people.” Eris said, with a mask of cool calm betrayed by a tightness in your chest that didn’t belong to you, “But I suppose it would make a pretty kitchen accessory, should you wish.” He quipped. You rolled your eyes.
“I am not a housewife.” You sneered.
“No. That’s not what—” Lucien cleared his throat and saved you from whatever Eris was about to say next.
“Let me show you around Velaris.” He said, diffusing the tension. “It’s not often outsiders are allowed to just waltz in.”
“Of course,” Eris said, “Will you be joining us?” He asked. You shook your head.
“I will spare you the agony, Vanserra.” You turned to leave, but looked back at Lucien, “Do not let him out of your sight. Rhys will have my head if he does anything stupid.”
As soon as you were a few feet away you felt you could breathe easily again. The bond had been simmering, thrilled at your proximity to your mate. It was a constant buzzing and humming in your chest. You were relieved you could no longer feel it, and made sure to send that feeling loud and clear down the connection between you and your mate.
---
In the following three days you received: A small wheel of cheese, a bouquet of marigolds and a pair of amber earrings. Lucien couldn’t stop laughing when he presented you with the cheese, but it had been amazing with some salt and pepper crackers that evening.
You rolled your eyes so hard it almost hurt when Lucien came the next day with another box. He was grinning wildly, barely stifling his laughter.
“I think this might be the worst one yet.” He said, thrusting the box into your hands, “Please open it.”
Eris had been sending the gifts through Lucien, and, like the letters, you had been hiding them from the rest of your family. It felt bad, going behind your brothers backs. But they could never find out that Eris was attempting to court you, for his sake and theirs. Lucien and Eris had managed to start talking again, over the constant gifts and letters. As annoying as it was, you were glad some good had come of it. Though he hadn’t been allowed in the Night Court again.
Lucien was practically rocking on his heels. Inside the box was a knitted headband. It was poorly made, full of holes and oddly misshapen. You frowned.
“What is this?” You looked to Lucien for an explanation but he was doubled over. He took a ragged breath.
“I told him not to send it. I told him it was a shit gift.” He managed before he was wheezing with laughter again. You inspected the headband.
“Did...did Eris make this?” Lucien simply nodded through his tears. You blinked.
“I don’t want these gifts. Please tell him to stop wasting his time.” It felt cruel. But your mind flashed to his lips on Nesta’s neck, his emotionless eyes during the battle with Hybern, your cousin's agonising cries when she had returned in Azriel’s arms that fateful night. You balled the cursed thing in your hand and chucked it back in the box. Lucien bit his lip, not finding it quite as funny anymore.
“It’s tradition in the Autumn Court to send things that are useful, as well as just objects of beauty.” He explained. It was clear which one the headband was meant to be.
“I’m Illyrian. Does he really think a bit of cold is going to hurt me? I don’t want any courting gifts, Lucien, regardless of their use.”
“You ate the cheese.” He murmured.
“We all ate the cheese, Lucien.” Was your quick reply.
He had no retort, and you decided that it was for the best. When you returned to your room, you pushed the box under your bed with the rest of the letters and gifts. The marigolds were wilted and dead for lack of sunlight, the earrings never touched. You could feel the mating bond screaming, begging to be heard, but you pushed it back further. This male would not have any part of you. None at all. You would never be his. No matter how much the thought pained you.
---
You were not reciprocating. Eris had spent all night fumbling around with those stupid needles trying to make something you might actually care for, and your response was silence. He thought back to that night. He knew he had not imagined the hunger in your eyes that almost knocked him dead. Yet how had he repaid you? By kissing Nesta. By proposing to Nesta. 
He had fucked up. As if, after everything you already thought about him, you might have given him a chance.
Yet the bond raged so fiercely, he could barely stand to ignore it for even a day before his chest burned so badly he thought he might drown. It would be a fitting way to go, he thought. To be hated so much it killed him. He had done enough to deserve such a fate.
Weeks passed, then months. Rhysand had been kind enough to let him visit Lucien twice more, once ending in a painfully awkward run in with Cassian that had him leaving earlier than intended. Those overgrown bats hovered around him as if he might try stealing you away the longer he spent in the Night Court. He never managed to catch even a glimpse of you. Not with Azriel or Rhys silently staring, or Cassian barging in every few minutes pretending to need something from the room. He was allowed nowhere without Lucien as his chaperone, he could say nothing without it being overheard. So much for bats, they were more like hawks.
He had stopped sending courting gifts. And he had stopped sending letters.
Cheddar lay her head on his lap, and he stroked her soft head gently.
“Am I just a fool, Cheddar?” He asked, knowing she could do nothing more than side-eye him as he spoke. “What good is it, pursuing your mate who hates you and whose brothers want you dead? Should I let this go?”
Cheddar whined, and thumped her tail. Checking the clock Eris found it was almost time for her walk. Eris glanced at the paper laid on his desk, gathering dust for weeks. He sighed. Once more. Once more he would grovel for your attention, to soothe the pain in his chest, the ache in his heart. Then he would let it go.
Let you go.
Forever.
Join me for a walk. I wish to talk. Eris.
He signed his name, the first time he had ever bothered to. Before he had time to overthink it, it vanished from his desk. His hands shook. Seconds passed, minutes turned to half an hour. Then it came. Popping onto the desk unceremoniously. Your response.
Fine. Where should I meet you?
He replied quickly, Cheddar beginning to get restless.
On the border, there is a doorway from Night to Autumn, I will walk you past the wards.
I will be there.
It was now well past when he would have usually taken the dogs out, but they would be walked, this time with his mate in tow. He stood with a shaky breath, and took the leads off the wall. Winnowing with his dogs to the edge of the Court, he steeled himself. He was ready to face you, to face his one chance to change your mind.
---
You stood at the edge of the Autumn Court. You had told no one where you were. Nor had you told anyone who you were with. Rhys would have a fit if he ever found out, Azriel would never speak to you again. Cassian might have allowed you to go, but not without following you and glaring holes through Eris the entire time.
It was safer for Eris on your own.
You heard his dogs first, then his voice calling after them to slow down. A brindle smokehound bounded up to you, its tongue lolling and tail wagging frantically. They were a beautiful breed, and rare, you couldn’t help the warm smile you gave it. It stopped just short of smacking into your legs and you giggled, holding your hand out for it to sniff. It was a few beats ahead of its owner, who was walking slowly with four more dogs waltzing around him, one calmly at his side. You watched as they ran circles around you and Eris as he came to a stop before you. He gave a short whistle and they stopped dead in their tracks, then retreated to his side. You couldn’t help the short burst of arousal you sent down the bond. Eris gave a cocky smile.
“You came.” He said, his smooth voice giving away no emotion, the bond closed off to you.
“I did.” You answered, unable to block your side of the bond quite as effectively.
“Did you receive my gifts?”
“I did.” You repeated. He cleared his throat and shifted on his feet.
“Well, the dogs will be off leash, I hope that’s alright. They’re usually good, but this one might try and go for the squirrels.” He said, pointing to a gorgeous black dog who pressed it’s long nose into Eris’ hand. You gave the pup a small smile.
You walked in silence for a while, both of you unsure of where to start, what to say to mend the fraying thread that connected you. Golden and ruby leaves crunched underfoot, the dogs panting breaths fogged little clouds in the crisp air. It was truly beautiful. You had always felt a sense of calm when Autumn fell over Velaris, but it could not compare to the serenity of the Autumn Court. It felt as though the whole Court was holding its breath, the season of change, never-changing, unending. Eris let you soak it in, watching as you beheld the forest in all its magnificence, not bothering you with conversation.
“You kissed her.” You said finally, breaking the peaceful silence. Eris fiddled with the leash in his hand.
“I had to.”
“Why?” You asked, the question sounding childish as soon as it escaped your lips.
“There were expectations on me that night I don’t expect you to understand.” The bond was still sealed tight from you, he spoke with the emotionless tone of a well-trained courtier.
“Try me.” You pressed.
“I don’t want to.” And perhaps it was the truth, but frustration built the further you walked, the silence dragging out between you uncomfortably. He had invited you here to talk. So talk he would.
You scoffed. The bond buzzing incessantly at your closeness to your mate, finally right where it wanted to be. But all you could focus on were his eyes, his heated gaze, as he had brushed his lips across Nesta’s bare neck.
“No.” You snapped. “You knew I was watching when you claimed my sister. When you proposed to marry her. You have given me no reason to believe you care for me. Never once apologised for what you did to my cousin. How could I ever trust you? That is what you want, is it not?”
He was staring at you now, no longer averting his gaze, amber eyes cold and calculating.
“I had a duty to my father to propose marriage to Nesta, I have no feelings for her, only for you.” Eris said, carefully ignoring any mention of Morrigan.
“You don’t know me. You know nothing about me. Only that we share this bond.” You argued. One of his dogs trotted up to your side and you pet her head to calm yourself. The action grounded you, and it didn’t go unnoticed by Eris, who felt it deep in his chest.
“I know that you seem to care an awful lot about what I did with your sister, yet claim to detest me” He said, dropping the walls he had carefully placed around the bond.
Nerves. Anger. Disappointment.
“I have waited centuries for a mating bond, and will not let your unfortunate Court affiliations bar me from trying, especially not when you show me so clearly your true desires.”
You rounded on him with anger glinting in your eyes.
“You could never be serious, professing my ‘true desires’, if you knew how much I loathed you, Eris Vanserra.”
Hurt. Pain. Despair.
“You are a power hungry brute who as far as I know has a secret thing for Illyrians.”
There was a pregnant pause. Eris stared straight at you with an expression you could not decipher. He was bathed in dappled golden light. He looked ethereal. You couldn’t help the guilt that washed over you, and you knew he felt it too.
Hope.
Something clicked, his expression shifted and he moved towards you with a darkness in his eyes that sent heat rushing to your core. You stepped back until you hit a tree, your back pressed up against it, and you were trapped. He crowded you, so close you could almost taste his spiced perfume.
“Is that what they have told you, little fox?” He asked, his deep voice low and sensual against your ear, “The only Illyrian I have a thing for is you. The moment I saw you swagger into that meeting as if you owned the place, I knew the Mother had made the right choice. She mocks me with your family, but I would risk their disapproval for just a taste of you.” You sucked in a breath, anger quickly replaced with lust as he pressed against you, and you cursed your body for reacting. You knew he could smell your arousal as his cruel grin widened.
“You feel it too, don’t you little fox.” His scent consumed you as he dropped every glamour, the heady rush of his arousal surrounded you like a drug. “That despite everything you think about me, you want me too. You want this.”
There was nowhere to run, with your back firmly pressed against the tree. There was no escape. That would be the lie you kept telling yourself afterwards as you surged up to kiss his lips, no longer able to resist. You took him by surprise, and used your advantage to spin him around, lips still on his, pushing him against the tree. He looked at you with lust blown eyes, throwing his head back, eyes screwed shut as you squeezed him, hard.
“This is mine.” You growled, the jealousy and need you had felt at the ball rushing back full force, “You are mine. From now on if you so much as sniff around another female I will make sure to show you exactly who you belong to.”
He panted, nodding frantically.
“Yes. Please. Please y/n, I need you.”
You fished his cock from his pants, it was wet and throbbing, the length of it in your hand making your pussy clench in need. He hissed at the cold air. You needed him closer. You needed to taste him. Dropping to your knees, you enveloped him in your mouth, his hands flying to your hair.
“Fuck, fuck, fuuuckkk.” He groaned. He pulled your hair roughly, and you looked up at him with doe eyes. You wanted it hard, rough. Wanted him to fuck your mouth as if he hated you. He felt it all through the shimmering golden thread and whimpered.
“You’re killing me, Y/n.” He grit out. With a small smile you bobbed your head, experimentally. A burst of salty precum coated your tongue and you swallowed it with a moan. He was hot and pulsing in your mouth, you pushed your head further down until he was at the back of your throat, your nose bumping against his navel, wanting him to feel the contractions as you swallowed around him. Breathing through your nose, you tapped at the back of his legs. you wanted him thrusting into you.
Slowly, painfully slowly, he pulled his hips back, dragging his cock lavishly across your tongue. With a sharp breath he pushed in, and you met his thrust with a bob of your head, knees aching, eyes watering.
He growled, and picked up the pace until he was fucking your face with abandon. His moans and pants sending slick dripping into your panties. Salt was all you could taste as his dick leaked continuously onto your tongue. He was soaking wet, with your spit, with his slick. It was the messiest blowjob you had ever given, and you fucking loved it. The bond hummed in pleasure as you gagged and drooled around him.
“Sweetheart, fuck, I’m close.” He whined, his thrusts growing sloppy as he ground his hips against your face.
“Gods your mouth, your fucking mouth, you’re gonna make me cum.” You laved your tongue over him, his constant stream of words both amusing and arousing you. You pulled off his cock and held your tongue out, looking up at him, hand pumping him roughly.
“I’m, I’m cumming, shit, Sweetheart, fuck.” He came copiously, so much that you choked on it. You swallowed, watching his eyes darken as you licked your lips.
He leaned against the tree, panting, and you sat on your knees.
This was not what you had planned. Not in the slightest. You had come to tell him to fuck off, to let the bond grow cold and stale. And yet you were on your knees in front of him, the taste of him consuming your senses. What had you done? You knew he could feel the growing fear, spreading through your chest like a chill.
“I have to go.” You stood abruptly.
“Don’t—” You didn’t stay to hear what he said next. You ran to the doorway, and didn’t stop running until you had reached your bedroom in the Night Court.
You opened the door. Rhys stood, a murderous look on his face and letters gripped tight in his fist. The scent of Eris was all over you. You had no way to hide it. His eyes darkened, your desk cracked and splintered then misted into thin air.
“Rhys I—” You scrambled for the right words to say as your brother took a heavy step towards you.
“I can explain.”
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joequiinn · 7 months ago
Text
The Dos & Don'ts of Fake Dating | E.M. x reader | pt. 3
[chap two] | [all chapters here] | [chap four]
summary: You propose a crazy idea to the resident freak of Hawkins, Eddie Munson. But maybe he was even crazier for agreeing to it…
notes & tropes: fem reader, faking dating, opposites attract, bratty rich bitch reader, minor revenge plot, not-quite-enemies-to-lovers
a/n: The response to this series has already been so wonderful and unexpected, so big thanks to everyone who's been hyping me up! The next couple parts of this story have kinda a mellow pace, but I'm literally such a long-winded person so idk how to write without adding a tooon of narrative meat lol. Nonetheless, hope everyone enjoys!
taglist: @costellation-hunter @daisyridleyss @damon-loves-pie @damp4eddie @delilaaahhh @kthomps914 @lotrefcp @marrowfrog00 @mewchiili @munsonssweets @rach5ive @sav12321 @steeldaisies
wc: 3.5k
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Chapter Three
Arriving at school on Monday morning, you had almost forgotten about your little meeting with Eddie the day prior. It was such an odd and different encounter that it briefly slipped away from you - after all, it wasn’t everyday you asked someone to be your fake boyfriend. But once you arrived on campus, the sight of Eddie’s van at the far end of the parking lot brought the conversation back to you, making your heart jump in remembrance.
And suddenly, you were nervous. This plan was ridiculous and there were so many damn opportunities for it to go wrong, so many damn holes that could be poked in it. You’d give Eddie a piece of your mind if he managed to fuck this up.
Amelia and Janet were already waiting for you at your locker, your customary meeting spot since freshman year. Whether intentional or not, you knew you were the pseudo-center of the group - you were certainly not the leader, that was Amelia and her brash personality, but it always seemed as if you were the swing vote, the middle ground, the deciding factor. Janet was the most agreeable of you three, generally avoiding confrontation and trying to maintain the peace as best she could amongst your crowd - you figured it was because of her strict upbringing.
As you approached the duo, you felt the conflicting comfort of familiarity butting heads with the frustrated part of you that didn’t want to see them ever again, the part of you that just wanted to run from them. Being a teenager was complicated in that way - as much as you cared about these girls, you also wanted absolutely nothing to do with them anymore.
Amelia and Janet were huddled together, sharing a magazine and excitedly talking about whatever it was that they were reading. Probably some insignificant article about the latest fashion trends of fall (which you secretly were interested in knowing, but you didn’t need to tell them that). Eventually, they heard the close click of your shoes on the linoleum floor, causing Amelia looking up to greet you as Janet continued to skim the page.
“So, feeling old yet?” Amelia teased, leaning back against the locker next to yours as you put in your code.
“Incredibly.” You answered dryly, although there was at least a hint of humor in your tone. It’s not as if you could completely cut them off overnight, that would be an impossible task to ask of anyone.
They both laughed, Janet putting away her magazine while Amelia leaned over your shoulder to check her makeup in the mirror you kept inside your locker. You nudged her out of your way once you had the book that you were looking for, giving her a harsh look out of the corner of your eye.
You knew that, although not perfect, Amelia and Janet weren’t so bad that you needed to be this cold to them - yes, Amelia was unapologetically abrasive and Janet was too agreeably submissive, but you still felt that your attitude towards them was maybe a little unwarranted. But at the same time, your heart and your mind weren’t on the same page. Your head said that they weren’t as bad as you made them out to be, but you could just feel that this friendship was no longer working, that something about it was terribly off and couldn’t be corrected.
As the two began discussing an assignment from a class that they shared, you mulled over your thoughts and feelings about this slowly ending friendship. Neither seemed to notice that you weren’t mentally present to their conversation, that you were somewhere in your own head instead.
After a short while, a duo of football players that you were somewhat familiar with came over to join the conversation. One of them was blatantly flirting with Janet, who seemed absolutely smitten, while the other served as wingman, trying to keep both you and Amelia engaged in conversation. You gave him the coldest shoulder he’d ever encountered, quickly turning all of his attention to Amelia instead.
Paying little to no attention to the group’s conversations, you began to look up and down the hallway absentmindedly, the myriad of conversations drowning each other out, making it easy for your mind to wander. If the group noticed your inattentiveness, they didn’t bring it up. You could have, and maybe should have, just walked away, but you weren’t sure where you’d wander off to until it was time to head to class. You’d have to find a way to get everyone to stop treating your locker like the go-to hang out spot at 7:30 in the damn morning.
As your eyes continued to wander, brain zoned out, your gaze passed over a small cluster of boys about ten feet away. Normally, they wouldn’t have crossed your mind, but today you had to do a double take, realizing that amongst them was Eddie. A friend of his had a locker not far from yours, you remembered at that moment, but it had never mattered before. But it sure mattered now, because you realized Eddie was looking right at you and probably had been for a couple of minutes, just waiting with amusement for you to come out of your reverie and finally noticed his stare. Once you two made eye contact, he smirked and shot you a playful wink.
Despite yourself, it flustered you just a little. You blinked and looked down in surprise, but mentally kicked yourself for the reaction - you could not let Eddie Munson make you nervous, especially when you weren’t actually interested in him in the slightest. You were simply taken aback, you reasoned with yourself, unprepared for the almost genuinely charming look on his face. So, you took a breath, looking back up to find Eddie’s eyes still trained on you. Was this going to be his flirting tactic? If so, it was pathetic, and you hoped that the look on your face told him as much.
You stared at one another for a few long moments, silently challenging each other, testing to see who would do something first. Eventually, Eddie pointed to the corners of his mouth, dragging his fingers up his cheeks while smiling aggressively wide and crossing his eyes as if to make a point, to visually tell you to at least act interested in him. You refrained from rolling your eyes - as challenging as it was - and forced a flirtatious smirk onto your lips, hoping your eyes weren’t saying something your face wasn’t. You weren’t exactly one to put on false airs, so you hoped that you were convincing to anyone that might see you.
Amelia, Janet, and the boys seemed to forget you were there, considering you hadn’t been engaging in the conversation this entire time. But eventually they must have expected you to chime in on something that was said, as they all looked at you expectantly when you didn’t reply right away. Seeing your eyes elsewhere and a hint of a smile on your lips, their brows furrowed and they quickly looked over their shoulders. It was simultaneously exciting and embarrassing to know that they would spot who exactly you were making eyes at.
They didn’t immediately realize it was Eddie that you were looking at, their eyes searching for maybe a familiar acquaintance or someone more stereotypically attractive, someone more to their liking. But then Eddie turned his gaze to them, winking as his grin widened before his eyes returned to you. In the same breath, Amelia and Janet whipped back around to face you with bewilderment while the football players shared a look of confused, judgmental annoyance.
“Don’t tell me you’re making eyes at Munson,” Janet started in disbelief.
“Yeah, what gives?” Amelia chimed in, taking a small step closer to you as if to avoid having the conversation overheard, making it seem like the most dire thing in the world.
You shrug, eyes still trained on Eddie for a moment longer as you tried to hold back your amusement at everyone’s reactions. You were proud that you seemed to actually appear interested, if their reactions were anything to go on.
“I don’t know, he’s kinda cute, isn’t he?”
It appeared that your tone was also as convincing as you were hoping for, because both girls pulled faces at your reply. The football players lingered awkwardly, but didn’t dare chime in on the conversation; after another few tense moments, they said their goodbyes and disappeared quickly down the hall.
Janet dared to briefly look over her shoulder at Eddie again, who now appeared to be in conversation with his friends. But it’s as if he knew he was being watched again, because his eyes immediately flicked up, a grin teasing at his lips as he met Janet’s gaze. She quickly turned away from him as a surprised sound escaped her lips.
Amelia simply made a sound of distaste, her eyes locked on you, “Ew,” She started, “in what world is that freak cute?”
“He is pretty weird…” Janet added, her tone not nearly as harsh as Amelia’s, although you could nonetheless hear her obvious trepidation.
You roll your eyes, a harsh and mocking look on your face, “Jan, you think Anthony Michael Hall is cute.”
Your tone is a touch nasty, and you can see Amelia smirking at the jab despite herself - she and you were in agreement that said actor was not attractive.
“He is!” Janet insisted, looking between you both, “You guys saw Sixteen Candles too.”
“Yeah, and he was a total geek in it.” Amelia responded, a harsh smirk on her lips.
Your gaze drifted back to Eddie, who had finally looked away for a few moments as he conversed with his little gang of nerds. Choosing defiance, you decided to antagonize your friends a little, a mean smirk ghosting over your lips.
“Eddie’s cuter than Anthony Michael Hall, that’s for damn sure.” It felt so wrong to say his name and not just refer to him as “Munson” or “the freak,” but you figured it would make a stronger impact on them if you used his first name.
Both Amelia and Janet made offended sounds in unison, their expressions critical.
“You feeling okay?” Amelia asked, not with concern, but rather with judgment, “I didn’t think the break-up was that hard on you.”
Frustration flared up inside you at that remark - that felt like a personal jab even by Amelia standards. You couldn’t help the sharp look you flashed at her, eyes narrowing, “It wasn’t. Duncan doesn’t matter to me in the slightest.”
As if compelled to confrontation, Amelia couldn’t help but respond in disbelief, “Sure, whatever you say. Munson’s a pretty pathetic excuse for a rebound, though. You could do better.”
You were so damn tempted to continue arguing with her, as you were never one to back down, but seeing motion in Eddie’s direction stopped you from saying anything. Your eyes flicked up to watch as he and his friends started to walk down the hall, coming in your direction. As the group passed you, Eddie came to a halt, taking an exaggerated bow, his eyes locked on yours almost as if he knew what was going on.
“Ladies…” He taunted with a glint in his eyes. As he straightened back up, he looked between the three of you, a goofy smile plastered on his face. As he walked away, he gave you one final, obvious wink.
“Ugh, what a creep…” Janet said while you watched Eddie disappear down the hall. Realizing the time, you abruptly walked off without saying goodbye to either Amelia or Janet. 
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
Aside from briefly saying ‘hello’ to one another in math class, you didn’t see Eddie for the rest of the day; and even something as simple as that greeting turned the heads of a few of your classmates. Sure, you may have passed each other in the hall or spotted one another at lunch, but otherwise your schedules didn’t seem to allow for much of each other. That’s something you two would have to figure out once you got deeper into this little scheme of yours.
As your day ended and you made the drive to the ice skating rink, you pondered how exactly you and Eddie would pull this off. Should you be more up front, more assertive? Or should you let Eddie take the reins on that? How quickly should you move things along? Would you really keep this going until graduation? It seemed that you needed to find some time to discuss all these finer details with Eddie, and soon, or else your cover would definitely be blown.
Come Tuesday, your morning started off differently than you expected. As you walked up to the front doors of the school, Eddie seemed to appear out of thin air, slinking up alongside you. Before you realized who it was, you were about ready to tell them to back the hell up, but you caught the words on your tongue once you realized it was him. The sight of Eddie took you by surprise, your face inevitably saying so, as he shot you a playful grin in response.
“Morning, princess,” He greeted, bumping you with his shoulder. Despite wanting to glare at him and his insistence on breaking the oh-so-holy fake dating rules, you held back, instead giving him what you hoped was a coy look.
“Munson,” You answered simply, feeling strange having a conversation with him in the middle of all your peers, all out in the open like this. When you reached the front doors, Eddie held one open for you, which was a pleasant surprise. Once you’d both entered, Eddie remained at your side, a simple look of contentment on his face as you asked dryly, “What grand gestures do you plan to do today?”
“Oh, I’m going to sweep you off your feet,” He begins playfully, seeming to enjoy the occasional glances shot at the two of you, “You’ll be absolutely head over heels by the end of the afternoon.”
You find his humor both mildly amusing and mildly stale, but you nonetheless give him a slight, doubtful smirk, “I’m sure.”
Eddie looked you up and down while cracking another smile; you weren’t sure if he was trying to turn up the charm for show or if he was trying to win you over just a little, “So, when I ask you out, you want a whole show of it? Flowers, balloons, the whole nine yards?”
“Maybe you should drop in from a helicopter, make it really interesting.” You responded coolly. The contrast of your sense of humor versus your monotonous delivery was perhaps a bit jarring and hard for some to get used to, but Eddie nonetheless seemed amused by it.
“So high maintenance.” Eddie chided, to which you gave him a sideways look. You two continued towards your locker, acting as if you didn’t notice people’s glances; you figured Amelia and Janet were already waiting for you, and you definitely wanted to see how they’d react to you and Eddie this morning.
For a few moments, you two walked in a slightly uncomfortable silence, a small reminder that you didn’t actually know each other at all, that this was all make believe. You could feel Eddie stealing glances at you as if he were deciding how to best engage with you in this school setting.
“Just looking at you yesterday was enough to set your friends off.” Eddie finally spoke up again as a wide grin spread across his lips, “Should I flirt a little more aggressively? Really get them worked up about it?”
You also couldn’t help but smirk a little - Amelia and Janet’s reactions were better than you could have anticipated, so much more dramatic than you expected. You were still miffed at Amelia thanks to her comment about Duncan, but you were sure that today she’d act as if nothing happened. Or at least, she’d try to, until seeing you with Eddie.
“We keep going at this rate, and Amelia and I might be in a cat fight by the end of the week.” You gave Eddie a wicked smile, which he didn’t expect, but he nonetheless looked back at you with just as much amusement.
“Maybe I need to step it up a little, then,” He responded as you two rounded the corner, your locker just down the hall. You immediately spotted Amelia and Janet there caught up in conversation, oblivious to you watching them from amongst the crowd of other students. You briefly paused as you studied them, Eddie following suit as he looked between you and them, “Should we go pay them a visit?”
You glanced up at Eddie through your lashes, similar fiendish glints in your eyes; you were wondering the exact same thing as him, debating whether to approach them or breeze on by as if they didn’t exist. Both were equally devious, and you momentarily felt pleased that you chose to make Eddie your fake boyfriend for this plan - in some ways, such as this, maybe you two were actually on the same page.
And then, the deciding factor just so happened to be heading in your friends’ direction.
Duncan walked down the hall with a quiet sort of confidence, and you absolutely loathed him for it. A few friends were with him as he stopped to chat with Amelia and Janet, and even from here his relaxed smile made you want to slap him. You hadn’t even realized you were clenching your jaw until Eddie spoke again.
“Get it together and let’s go over there.” He instructed, looking between your eyes and your tight jaw. He leaned forward a little with a wicked grin, “Come on. This is what you wanted me for, right? Let’s go get a reaction outta them.”
You chose to ignore the mild suggestiveness of Eddie's phrasing, although you did briefly narrow your eyes at him - you weren’t sure why, but you couldn’t help but hate that he was already doing his job well. He had a point, so you put on your best poker face and walked with confidence in the direction of your locker, Eddie right there alongside you. You made an effort to walk closer to him, to convey some kind of comradery, hoping that everyone would buy your bullshit.
Janet, always the most aware of the bunch, spotted you first, her expression shifting with worry. It wasn’t until you were practically on top of the group that the rest of them noticed your arrival, and everyone’s faces fell into various expressions of confusion, annoyance, and loathing. God, they were all so dramatic.
“Excuse me.” You said to one of Duncan’s friends in the bratty tone that most of them were used to, as he was blocking your locker. When he didn’t move right away, your brows shot up in threatening impatience, prompting him to quickly step aside. Eddie’s eyes followed the guy just to make him more uncomfortable as you opened your locker, intentionally letting it swing loudly against the one beside it.
“You lost, Munson?” Duncan questioned in a challenging tone, stepping forward with his gaze trained on Eddie. You turned, prepared to make some quick retort in defense of your fake boyfriend, but he beat you to the punch.
“Do I look lost?” Eddie put on a false look of confusion before a wild grin broke out across his lips. His response caused you to snort out a small laugh, Duncan looking back and forth between you two with skepticism before his eyes finally settled on you.
“Are you serious?” His tone was accusing as he took a step toward you. You kept your face calm and your eyes cold as you rooted around in your locker, hoping that your supposed nonchalance would really get under his skin.
“About what?” You taunted, the corner of your mouth barely pulling up into a smirk. You shut your locker, finally looking Duncan in the face to find him gazing at you with bafflement. The whole group was watching with similar expressions, but you paid them no mind, “This is my locker. If you don’t like what you see, go somewhere else.”
You looked back at Eddie, who seemed to be eating this up, not afraid of showing his amusement plainly across his face. You figured that that was also doing an incredible job of getting under Duncan’s skin.
“Walk me to class?” You prompted with a flirty tone, to which Eddie smiled. It was a look that could have convinced you that he was actually interested if you didn’t know any better.
“Lead the way.” His fingers ever so slightly grazed the small of your back as you walked between him and Duncan, leading him away from the group without looking back at them, as tempting as it was. Eddie followed right behind you, his shoulders nearly brushing yours as you maneuvered through the crowd. Classes hadn’t even started yet, but already you were enjoying this day far too much.
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icomeandg0 · 3 months ago
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“More than one” part 2!
Linked universe x reader (s) (Female)
Warnings: confusing.
A/N: I didn’t think the other post would get so much, thank you all<3
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“She’s awake!”
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“An explanation is due.” Legends voice cuts through the silence earning a huff from Wild, “Can this wait until…later?”
“You can’t blame us for being curious, you did leave while we were sleeping—“
“And brought a girl with you!”
Sky and Wind chimed in, Wild wasn’t going to get a rest unless he told them, always on his arse he swears—
“Fine! I’ll tell��� Wild clears his throat before sighing, “You see, she’s this girl from my era, she’s very important to me and she’s…one of the best things in my life and I plan on making sure she’s safe and by my side. Y/n L/n is her name and, goddesses if anything happens to her I would never forgive myself…” Wild says tenderly, he was very fond of you.
“Eugh, I asked for an explanation not a sappy, love story.” Legend takes his chance to tease Wild, “You’re the one that asked” Wild retaliates.
“Y/n huh? Must be a common name, I had a Y/n. She was certainly…Something.” Warriors voice grew a bit quiet as he looked off to the side, however no one really paid attention. “Yeah, I have a childhood best friend named Y/n” Four says, “Really? Me too!” Sky says, “The Y/n back at mine is such a sweetheart, city gal on the outside, country on the inside” Twilight spoke with a smile.
“Well I’ve got you all beat! My Y/n’s the best, she’s on of the best people I’ve met during my adventure!” Wind grins, “How about you, Hyrule? What about your Y/n?” Hyrule scratched the back of his head sheepishly, “Well, I never met a Y/n during my adventure so…can’t really comment”
“Jeez, if this Y/n girl makes all of you like this I hope I never meet a Y/n” Legend huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “How about you, old man?” Twilight asked, Time only sighed and opened his open eye. “I don’t see how this is relevant to our current situation therefore we must shut it down and focus on the subject.” Everyone went quiet after Time spoke, they all looked a bit ashamed but none the less changed the subject.
“Sheesh, must’ve been a harsh break up for Time…” Legend whispered over to Sky who felt remorse for the eldest hero.
“When she wakes up we’ll need to ask her a few questions, hopefully she can provide a few answers.” Time says earning a nod from Wild, “I’ll do the talking”
Soon their ears twitch as they hear shuffling coming from Hyrules tent. Soon it opens to reveal you inside, “Holy Hylia! I’ve been robbed—kidnapped too! Give my stuff back you thieves!” You point at the group in front of you, clearly you haven’t processed the fact that your Link was there.
“Y/n! You’re awake” Wild got up to his feet to help you up since you were on all fours which could re open the wound on your side.
“Link? What the hell are you doing here? Did you rob me?”
“No I didn’t rob you, nor did they—look just come. We need to talk, alone.” Wild looks at the boys, once he earned a nod he took you by the hand and led you away.
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“So what’s this all about—woah!” Wild immediately wrapped his arms around you, “oh by the three, I’ve missed you so much” Wild buried his head into your neck as you giggled softly and hugged him back.
“Heh, I’ve missed you too” Wild moves his head so he’s looking up to you now, “How did you get here?” “Crazy story really! You see…a portal sucked me in while I was out trying to find you a couple weeks ago.”
“Weeks? You were here for that long, alone?” “Nah! You see I have this really cool girl group I travel with and wanna know something? They’re all Y/n’s!” You exclaimed making Wilds eyes widen in astonishment.
“Really?” “Yeah! There’s TPY/n, HWY/n, OOTY/n, SSY/n, LAY/n, LOZY/n, FSY/n, WWY/n. Bit of a tongue twister but when you meet them they’ll greet you properly”
Wild felt a bit overwhelmed of the thought of meeting more Y/n’s but he nods either way, if the others say their Y/n’s were as lovely as they described then he’ll be fine! "Anyways, do you know this place? what about you tell me what happened before, you were unconscious and wounded when I found you"
"I was? Damn, let me try and remember..." You thought for a bit before speaking again, "We found a village nearby and it was called Agoir city, it must be the capital of this land because it has a massive castle. Me and the girls were shopping around like usual until WWY/n had to go ahead and steal something and get caught. Since we all looked the same they probably thought we were a thief family or something along those lines. OOTY/n told us all to split up so we wouldn't be taken, I ended up with TPY/n but those guards were quite literally right up our asses so we had to fight a few"
"I'm sure violence could've been avoided"
"Nope! but then they all attacked me so they landed a few blows and..I don't remember the rest" You finish explaining, Wild nods, "That was helpful information, really was. I'll tell the others but- There was this dragon that was...protecting you" "Oh...That's a relief she wasn't taken...Where is she? Is she back at the camp?" You asked, Wild shook his head. "We left her back where we found her-" "You did what?!"
Wild closes his mouth and looks at you with his blue eyes that were filled with confusion, "Okay...Okay, Link I need you to come back with me to see if she's still there, please." You hold your hand out which he takes with no hesitation, "Yeah, okay. Just gotta tell the others first." "Others?" "Yeah, You woke up in a rush you probably didn't process the fact that there were others back at camp." You sighed softly as he begins to pull you back to them all.
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"Oh woah! So you all are Links? That must be confusing...?" You tilt your head as you look at the lookalikes, you could tell the differences of each Link but being surrounded by them all is making you realise...This bitch is attractive in every universe, (Besides from Wind but he still a cutie.) "It did but we got our own names to call us by" They went around in a circle to introduce themselves, after Time introduced himself he opened his mouth once again.
"Is it true? that there are other Y/n's here?" Time asked a bit on edge, "Yup! Somewhere in Agoir city, I plan on taking Wild with me if that's alright with you" "No."
Wild gulped as Time's voice was stern but you didn't falter, "Well with all due respect, mister but I don't think that's something you have control over. I need Link to help me save my friends and considering it's his duty to do so I don't think it's very wise to intervene." You spoke, a hint of sassiness in your tone...most of the boys shared one thought.
'Yup, definitely a Y/n'
"I wasn't going to deny...I was going to say we were all going to come along too" Time finishes making you sheepish, "Sorry..." You scratch the back of your head and he only chuckles lightly before getting up, "C'mon boys, pack up everything so we can leave as soon as we can"
To be continued…
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And that’s a wrap! Hope you all enjoyed, don’t worry next chapter is all about the Y/n’s I promise but if you don’t understand I’ll put down who’s who for the Y/n’s.
I’ll put up a poll later on today, but I hope you all enjoyed this.
Taglist?
@fantasyhopperhea
TPY/n = Twilights era
HWY/n = Warriors era
OOTY/n = Times era
SSY/n = Sky’s era
LAY/n = Legends era
BOTWY/n = Wilds era (who was in this story)
LOZY/n = Hyrules era
FSY/n = Fours era
WWY/n = winds era.
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dee-writes-anime · 1 month ago
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heyhey can you write some hawks x really introverted fem reader? so kinda the exact opposite of him. thank u so muchh
Enjoying the Quiet with Hawks
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FEATURING Keigo 'Hawks' Takami x Reader
SUMMARY You're the opposite of him, but he doesn't mind. In fact, he enjoys it. (request by anon)
CONTENT WARNINGS fluff, introverted reader, that's all I think?
AUTHORS NOTE I'm so sorry it took me so long to answer your ask anon!! I finally found time between work and school to get some writing time in. I really hope you like it, I was giggling while writing it.
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The sound of wings was unmistakable. Even with the windows shut, you could feel the soft thrum of wind stirring against the glass. It was a sensation you had slowly grown accustomed to—the subtle way Hawks announced his presence long before he landed. His energy was always palpable, a stark contrast to the tranquility you preferred, but you couldn’t deny the way your pulse quickened just a little at the thought of seeing him again.
The faint knock on the balcony door was more out of habit than necessity. Hawks never really waited for permission to enter. Within seconds, the glass slid open, and he stepped inside with the usual easy confidence, feathers rustling softly around him.
"Hey, dove!" His voice was as bright as ever, and just as loud. You instinctively tucked your knees closer to your chest, feeling the quietness of your apartment shrink in comparison to his presence. "What’re you doing all cooped up again?" he asked, though you both knew it wasn’t a real question. He was used to your quiet ways, just as you were used to his noise.
You glanced at him, still clutching the book you’d been reading, though the words had blurred the moment he arrived. "Just… reading," you murmured, your voice barely carrying over the space between you. It wasn’t that you didn’t want him here, but sometimes you wondered how someone like him—a hero, a symbol of freedom—could enjoy the stillness you surrounded yourself with.
Hawks, as always, seemed unaffected by the quiet. He moved with his usual fluidity, tossing his jacket onto a nearby chair before making his way over to you. "An hour’s too long to be apart, y’know?" he teased, golden eyes gleaming with that familiar mischief. "Miss me?"
Your gaze flickered to his for just a second before retreating back to your book. "You just left," you replied, trying to suppress the small smile tugging at your lips. His playful charm always had a way of sneaking past your defenses, even when you didn’t want it to.
Without hesitation, Hawks dropped onto the couch beside you, his wings folding neatly behind him as if they weren’t twice the size of his body. His proximity sent a ripple of unease through you—not because you disliked it, but because you weren’t sure how to respond to his boundless affection. It was overwhelming at times, especially for someone like you, who preferred the comfort of solitude.
"You don’t have to talk," he said after a moment, stretching his arms behind his head with a casual ease that only he could pull off. "I like the quiet sometimes too."
That simple statement caught you off guard. You turned your head slightly, your eyes narrowing in disbelief. Hawks? Liking quiet? It seemed impossible. He was always surrounded by noise—whether it was the roar of the wind beneath his wings, the chatter of the city, or his own constant banter. But there he was, lounging beside you, completely at peace in the silence you treasured.
"You… like quiet?" you asked softly, still unsure whether to believe him.
Hawks chuckled, the sound soft and unhurried, a far cry from the boisterous laughter he shared with others. "I like you," he said, his voice warm and sincere in a way that made your heart stutter. "And if that means sitting here, with you, in the quiet, then yeah. I like quiet."
Your cheeks warmed at his words, and you quickly looked away, hoping he didn’t notice the sudden flush in your face. But knowing Hawks, he probably did. He always noticed things about you, even the small, quiet things you thought went unnoticed by everyone else.
He shifted beside you, leaning back against the cushions as if settling in for the evening. One of his wings extended slightly, draping lazily over the back of the couch, a feather brushing against your shoulder. "You know," he began, his tone lighter again, "I think I could get used to this. Peace and quiet, just the two of us."
The words were casual, but they carried a weight that tugged at something deep inside you. You couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of comfort in his presence, even if it was still unfamiliar. Maybe it was the way he didn’t push you to speak or fill the silence with unnecessary chatter. Or maybe it was the simple fact that, despite your differences, he seemed to understand you in a way most people didn’t.
"I’m not very… interesting," you admitted, your voice barely more than a whisper. It was a thought that had lingered in the back of your mind ever since Hawks had taken an interest in you. You weren’t like the other people in his life—loud, charismatic, always moving. You were the opposite. Quiet. Reserved. Always still.
Hawks tilted his head, his expression softening as he watched you. "That’s not true," he said, the teasing edge gone from his voice. "You’re plenty interesting. Just in a different way."
His words hung in the air between you, and for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. But then, without thinking, you leaned just a little closer to him, your shoulder brushing against his. It was a small gesture, but for you, it was a step—an unspoken acknowledgement that maybe, just maybe, you didn’t mind him being here after all.
Hawks’ smile widened, and though he didn’t say anything, you could feel the warmth of his presence, his unwavering acceptance of you just as you were. In his world of high-speed chases and constant chaos, he had found a quiet place with you—a place where, despite everything, he seemed perfectly content to stay.
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0omillo0 · 2 months ago
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i’ve really been into vampire chan recently. hehe. and i’ve also really been loving your writing. 🩷 do you think you could try out some vampire stuff? if you don’t want to write it for chan, i’d be fine with any member. (but yk he’s my fave)
or if you don’t want to write this at all, that’s fine too. i’ll read anything you post :)
🩷🩷🩷
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VAMP! BANGCHAN X FEM! READER
a/n: thank you so much for your request!! I hope you like it 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻
genre: fluff and a bit angsty
One night, you and your boyfriend Chan are sitting on the couch. The air is thick and you ask him what’s wrong…
The soft hum of the night hung in the air as you sat on Chan’s couch, a blanket draped over your legs. His apartment was quiet, save for the occasional rustle of wind brushing against the windows. The dim light from a single lamp cast a golden hue across the room, flickering gently as though it, too, sensed the tension in the air.
You glanced at Chan, who sat at the far end of the couch, his posture stiff and eyes avoiding yours. His hand rested close to his knee, fingers tapping absently against the fabric. He looked distant, like he was a thousand miles away even though he was right there, just an arm’s reach from you.
“Chan…” you began softly, your voice cutting through the silence. “Is everything okay?”
He flinched, just barely, but enough for you to notice. His hand stilled, and he looked down at the floor, shadows hiding his expression. For a long moment, he didn’t respond, the weight of unspoken words thick in the air between you.
You shifted closer, reaching out to him, but he subtly pulled back, just out of your reach. The sudden distance stung more than you expected. He was always careful, always keeping you just far enough away when the night deepened, but this… this felt like something else. Something worse.
“I’m fine,” he finally murmured, but his voice was hollow. The words felt forced, like they weren’t for your comfort, but for his own.
The soft glow of twilight faded outside, the last remnants of the sun sinking below the horizon. You noticed how, as the darkness took hold, Chan seemed to grow more withdrawn, his shoulders hunching slightly, his jaw tight.
You frowned, your heart aching with the need to understand what was happening. “You’re not,” you whispered, more to yourself than him. “You’re not fine, and I wish you’d just tell me what’s going on.”
He tensed at your words, his breath catching for a moment before he let it out in a slow, measured exhale. His eyes flickered up to meet yours, and for the briefest moment, you thought you saw something strange—something dark, like a storm building behind his gaze.
You’d always known there was something Chan wasn’t telling you. Something important, something that lingered in the way he carefully constructed his life around you. The late nights, the way he disappeared when the moon rose high, the way his touch always felt cool, even when the summer heat blazed.
But you loved him. You loved him so deeply that the mystery of him felt like a secret you were willing to wait for, no matter how long it took for him to trust you enough to share it.
Tonight, though… tonight it felt different. The air was thick with unspoken tension, the kind that made your skin prickle with anticipation, or maybe it was fear. You didn’t know anymore. All you knew was that the man sitting in front of you was pulling away, and you couldn’t bear it.
“I can’t do this anymore,” you said, your voice wavering slightly as you looked at him. “I can’t sit here and pretend that everything’s okay when I feel like I’m losing you.”
Chan’s head snapped up, his eyes wide with something close to panic. For a second, his entire body went rigid, like he was caught between the instinct to flee and the need to stay and explain everything.
“Y/N…” His voice was soft, like he was pleading with you, but for what, you didn’t know.
You swallowed hard, feeling your chest tighten as you searched his face for answers he wasn’t giving. “Just tell me the truth,” you whispered, stepping closer, your hands trembling slightly. “What are you so scared of?”
He looked at you, and this time, he didn’t look away. His eyes… they shimmered with something foreign, something otherworldly. The low light flickered in his irises, and you gasped softly when you saw it—his eyes, once so warm and brown, now glowing a deep, almost crimson red. It was subtle at first, like the flicker of dying embers, but the longer you stared, the more intense it became. The red pulsed through his gaze, sharp and luminous, like fire burning through his soul.
Your breath caught in your throat, heart racing as your mind scrambled to understand what you were seeing. His eyes. They weren’t human. They weren’t… normal.
And then it all clicked. The nights he disappeared. The strange distance he kept. His cold skin, even on the warmest of days.
“Chan…” Your voice was barely a whisper as the realization crashed over you, a wave of disbelief and fear washing through your veins. “What… what are you?”
He flinched, guilt flashing in his eyes, the red hue dimming but never fully fading. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, his entire frame trembling with the weight of the secret he had held for so long.
“I didn’t want you to find out like this,” he said, his voice ragged and broken. “I never wanted you to see me like this.”
You stumbled back a step, the air in the room growing colder, heavier. The words wouldn’t come, your throat dry, your chest tightening with the weight of the truth unraveling before you.
“I’m a vampire,” he confessed, the words falling from his lips with a sharp finality. His eyes, still glowing faintly red, bore into yours with a depth of sorrow that broke your heart.
Your mind reeled, trying to process what you were hearing, but all you could do was stare at him, at this person you thought you knew. The man you loved… wasn’t human.
“I’ve been hiding it,” he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t want to scare you. I didn’t want you to look at me like I’m a monster.”
You felt dizzy, the room spinning around you, but when you met his gaze again, something in you steadied. Despite the shock, despite the impossible truth he had just told you, there was one thing you couldn’t ignore—the look in his eyes. The fear. The pain. He was terrified of losing you.
“Are you scared?” he asked softly, his voice cracking as if he was holding his breath, waiting for you to run. “Please… tell me if you’re scared.”
The air felt thick in your lungs, but you took a deep breath, willing your heartbeat to calm. You looked at him—really looked at him—and saw the man you had come to love. The one who had stayed by your side through everything. The one who had always put your safety before his own desires.
“No,” you whispered, your voice stronger than you expected. “I’m not scared.”
Chan blinked, clearly not expecting your response. “Y/N…”
You stepped forward, closing the distance between you, your hand reaching for his. His skin was cold, even colder now, but you didn’t flinch. You held onto him like you were anchoring him to the earth.
“You’re not a monster,” you whispered, your gaze softening as you looked into his eyes, into those red, burning irises that once would have terrified you. “You’re still you, Chan. And nothing about this changes how I feel.”
He stared at you, disbelief and relief battling in his expression. His lips parted, but no words came. He was trembling, like he couldn’t comprehend your acceptance, like he was afraid this moment would shatter into a nightmare.
“I love you,” you said, the words spilling from your heart, raw and honest. “And I’m not going anywhere.”
A tear slipped down his cheek, and he pulled you into his arms, holding you with a desperation that made your heart ache. You could feel him shaking, his cold body pressed against yours, but in that moment, you knew one thing for certain.
You weren’t afraid.
“I thought I’d lose you,” he whispered into your hair, his voice breaking. “I thought… I’d lose everything.”
You held him tighter, your hand gently stroking his back. “You’ll never lose me.”
In the quiet of the night, as the shadows enveloped you both, the truth lay bare between you. And even though everything had changed, the love you felt for him burned brighter than ever, unshakable and eternal.
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thefandomdirtymind · 1 year ago
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Hello! I saw your post you're open for a request and I was wondering if I could I have OPLA Sanji?
About Sanji fall in love towards reader but reader was hesitate and unsure if Sanji is being sincere it's like she's having trust issues since Sanji is considered a ladies' man or flirty and was afraid he'll broke her heart?
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A/N IMPORTANT:  Hey, thank you for your request Anon ! I had to confess that it was kind of a hard one for me because well...trust issu hit close from home and I just start to write that angst even if it was not my specialty, but I really like the result and I hope you will too !
Trust Issues
OPLA - Vinsmoke Sanji
Sanji / OPLA Masterlist and Coming Soon
* English is not my first language, I tried really hard to correct myself but, I hope you will excuse me if some mistakes are still there.
Love wasn’t your cup of tea. Sure, the idea of a partner supporting and adoring you like you deserve was cute. But, in your opinion, you have already done enough. After all, your last relationship has resulted as becoming a pirate and being abandoned by your lover to save his ass. And, If the humiliation hadn’t been enough, not long after your escape for the marines, you had seen him parading with his new lady wrapped around his arm. Like if you hadn’t existed at all.
So, nobody could blame you if you had some trust issues and an aversion for ladie’s man.
It’s why you knew the minute you saw his smile what Vinsmoke Sanji was : A pretty flirt. 
If it was only you, you had refused his presence on the ship, but, like Luffy had said, the Going Merry needed a cook and the man was a hell of a fighter. As the morning came, you couldn’t also deny the fact that he looked incredibly good in his suit, his bag on his shoulder, ready to come aboard. Smiling at the instant he spotted you. 
“ Hello Madam, I'm glad we met again. Can I say that you seem even more beautiful in this sunlight” He offered, from the dock, as you were sitting on the main deck rail adjusting a rope. 
“ You may, but it doesn't mean I will accept the compliment. Luffy is on the upper deck if you search him” You coldly replied, trying to shut down your traitor heart. You will not fall for another pretty face, never. 
“ I didn’t expect much Madam, thank you for the information “ Sanji replied, his mood in nothing affected by your coldness. Sure, he had hoped for a warmer welcome, but after serving you the night before and found himself unable to turn his gaze away from your beauty. He was satisfied with just being part of the same crew as you, the rest would come later he had assumed. 
It took, in fact, way longer than he first thought. For the entire few weeks he had been on board, you hadn’t looked or talked to him except to thank him for the food or urgent matters. 
Many times, the crew had tried to talk to you, asking you to be more nice with Sanji. But, even if you could feel his charm often softened your shield, your stubbornness was even stronger. 
It wasn’t easy for Sanji either. He knew you clearly disliked him without knowing why. When, on his part, the more he was admiring you, watching you laugh with the others, hearing your brilliant plan, watching you gracefully climb the cordage and being as stubborn as him. Make him love you even more. Everyday, he was trying to charm you, offering you compliments, taking an interest in what you were doing or simply making you the best food he could. But, nothing worked, you answered him quickly and as coldly as always.  
It'll take another two months and a storm before Sanji has enough. 
The rain was falling for hours,helped by a wind so strong that you had to close one of the sails to avoid drifting away. Each two hours or so, the members of the crew were making a rotation, trying as much as possible to not fatigue themself too much and end up falling into the water. 
You were the only one still standing, drenched by the cold rain, your muscles sore by the force necessary to keep the helm stable. Multiple times Nami and Usopp had tried to push you to take a rest or at least eat something warm, but each time you refused resolutely, you would pass that storm and rest after. 
Meanwhile in the kitchen, Sanji was finishing his soup, preparing three bowls for the crew member who will come downstairs to take their rest. As he prepared himself for going upstairs, doing his part, the blond chef saw Nami and Usopp going down the stairs, alone. You aren’t with them, again. 
“ Where Y/N ” He asked, already knowing the answer.
“ She refuses to budge of the helm. we tried to talk to her but it’s like talking to a rock” Nami replied, wrapping herself in a big towel.
“ I’ll come back, I will bring her here “ Sanji only replied, his happy mood now sour. It wasn’t rare in the time who’s he was running the restaurant with Zeff that he lost his temper. He had lost it already a time or two during battle, but against another member of the crew,it was a first. 
Making his way to the helm, he looked at you, already knowing it will not be easy. But, to be sure you’re in security, he was ready to fight you if he had to. 
“ Y/N, your time has long passed, I will replace you. I prepared a dry towel and warm soup in the kitchen. Go take some rest “ He first tried. 
“ I’m not tired or hungry “ You simply replied with your gaze focused on the horizon. 
“ Then I’m afraid I have to excuse myself Darling “ Profiting from an adjustment of your position, he then proceeds to lift you on his shoulder, easily dodging all your attacks, as he was getting you down in the ship to dry both of you. 
“ How dare you ! “ You scream, shaking of rage and cold. As he sits you on one of the kitchen stools and throws a dry towel at you. “ I was perfectly fine !”
“ You were on a trip to catch death ! “Sanji replied sharply, his gaze dark and his wet form in a stiff posture with anger “ I don’t know what I exactly did to make you dislike me like that, but I can care for you if you do some stupid things like that ! “
“ Then just don’t care about me and go flirt somewhere else !!” You angrily answered.
Taken aback, Sanji tilted his head, frowning his eyebrow, clearly confused. 
“ Wait…what…You dislike me…because I flirted with you ?“ He slowly asked, trying to understand your point. 
“ I just don’t understand why you haven't given up yet ! I had already done with the damn flirty kind, go charm your other ladies and leave me alone ! “ 
" My other…” Sanji starts disbelief. “ I don’t give up because I care for you…stubborn woman! " Sanji tried to say. Never had he thought that it was his manner that you hated so much. " But if my affection isn't required, fine, eat and rest, that's all I ask " He sighs ,disappearing upstairs. 
A long and heavy silence fell in the kitchen after he left, leaving you with a curiously heavy heart and some concerned  gaze of Nami and Usopp eating their soup. After a while, you sigh, defeated and take yourself a bowl. As always, the dish was perfectly balanced and delicious.
" You know y/n...I know your story, I understand, I do.  But…Sanji didn't flirt with any woman aside from you for months…I think he genuinely likes you, " Nami softly spoke. "Of course I'm not you and you have all the right to act like you do, but it’s not Sanji's fault. He’s not him… and I think the day he will stop caring for you, you will realize it’s will be maybe too late”.
“ Maybe “ You admit, finishing your food before leave it into the sink and heading to the door” I will sleep a little, wake me up when it will be our turn again please “ 
But she never woke you up and when you opened your eyes, the sun was shining again on another day. 
Sanji wasn’t the kind of man who'd give up easily, neither on his dream nor on the people he loved. But, even with his flirty tendency, respecting women and their wishes was a priority. It’s why, even if it cost him and that your word had wounded him, on that sunny day, he started to restrict at the minimum his attention to you. 
And you noticed it immediately. His gaze on you, usually full of affection, was now more distant, he didn’t ask you if you had slept well, nor if you would like something in particular for breakfast, he simply put an omelet in front of you, smiled politely and returned to his occupation. Yes, for Sanji it was odd, but, as a ladie’s man you give him a week before going back to his old habit. 
Luckily for you, life decided to give both of you a hand.
Your estimation could never be more wrong. After two weeks of polite but cold Sanji, you were almost wishing you never had that fight. Your traitor heart was missed his radiant smile toward you, his compliments for every little detail of your person or the way he  tried to know every one of your favorite things. But you had broken it and you were now unsure how to repair it. Excuse could probably do the charm, but your stubbornness was always blocking you, estimating that protecting your heart wasn't shameful. 
The Going Merry was anchored alongside an island, doing his needed resupply. As the last barrel had been brought on board, you followed the idea of Zoro and decided to join your companions for a drink at the little bar on the beach.
But, as you put your foot in the small place, you froze, your mind resuming to a static white noise. Your ex, already another lady at his arm, was installed with his crew at the largest table of the little tavern.  
“ Hey Y/N come here, that table is free ! “ Luffy exclaimed, not noticing your stiffness.
“ Y/N is that you ! Damn girl, I haven't seen you since you were surrounded by Marines ! I own you for this one, how did you escape ?! “ The despicable man shouted, clearly more happy to see you, than you were to see him. “ Darla, that girl was... my most loyal crew member. “He explained to the girl at his side “Look at you, have you always been that pretty ? “ 
The compliment was the last straw that snapped you out of your shock. How could he talk to you so casually after all you had endured because of him. Doesn’t he have an ounce of regret or shame ?!
“ I escaped on my own after you had cowardly abandoned me ! “ You replied, as Sanji placed himself behind you, placing a hand on your shoulder in support.
“ Y/N, that man clearly doesn’t deserve your time, come, the drink will arrive soon” He tried, giving a hard look at the pathetique Captain who was now coming a you, his hand scratching his hair, gauging if Sanji was a menace for his future plan with you or not. 
“ Not deserving of his time, I had already two years of her time mate, go sip your beer and let us discuss. Y/N and I have many things to talk about. I haven’t abandoned her, I knew she could escape, she’s a smart cat. Aren't you Sweet pea” 
“ I have nothing to say to you, thank you Sanji but I’m not in the mood. Being in the same room as him would suck all the joy I have. I will be on the ship. “ You simply replied, making your exit before tears ran down your cheeks. 
Sat on the upper deck, watching the night sky, the fresh wind drying your last tears, you saw Sanji came back onboard. Without a word, he simply sat beside you and offered you the bottle he was keeping in his hand.
“ Zoro sent his regards and I’m here to tell you that I’m sorry. I had tried to respect your wish, but I couldn’t stop myself tonight. I can’t not care for you and that man was...he shouldn’t ever treat a lady as you like that. Maybe now he had learn “
“ Sanji, what did you do? “ You asked, strangely touched that he had actually take your defense even after you had left. 
“ I kicked his pathetic and disgraceful ass. I couldn’t tolerate the way he was looking at you, talking to you...But I understand now how my behavior led you to dislike me when I arrived, But I assure you that…” 
“ I know, “ You said your heart, still fragile, beating faster.” You aren’t him and I should have waited to know you. I was scared, I didn’t want to like you because I was afraid to repeat the same story. But even if I tried, I realize when you had stop to caring for me that I miss it, I missed you…a lot“ 
Suddenly unusually shy, his cheeks a slightly shade of faded pink in the dark, Sanji avoided your gaze, a joyful smile spreading on his lips.
“ I suggest that we start over. We can't forget all those months but we can restart our relationship.I can’t wait to truly know you Y/N” He tell, finally planting in gaze in yours, that lost spackles in his eyes, the one you though forever vanish, back even brighter that ever. 
“ I can’t wait too, Sanji “ You softly smile. 
___
Your first kiss with Sanji happened a little shorter than a month later. At exactly the same spot. 
Since that night, you have made a habit of watching the sky together, sharing stories, passions and thoughts. Even if the blond cook, not without surprise, seems to find the constellation less appealing than your sweet view at his side. But, you slowly adapted yourself to his flirting and even often replied, to his joy. 
It was in one of those moments, as you turned your head to point to him a group of stars that Sanji captured your lips, answering your heart's deepest desire from months and even probably since the tall man had put a foot on the deck. 
Somewhere on the lower level of the ship, you hear the playful screams and wolf whistles of your friends. But, as he captured your lips for another kiss you couldn't care less. You had an amazing group of friends, the sea was peaceful and with the help of Sanji, your heart finally started to heal.  
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zoropookie · 6 months ago
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HOW HATERS ARE BORN (HHAB)
♡ chapter twenty-six — br(ok)en (💋)
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You stared at your phone light up for the twelfth time within five minutes with a dull expression.
Admittedly, you felt angrier knowing that Scaramouche still had the audacity to even text you after everything. After tormenting you for years and years, what kind of shame should someone feel after that, you wonder. The relentless pursuit of making your life miserable—to which he failed at, but it did make you wonder.
Did you do something to deserve it? Each notification felt like another jab that he took to the heart, reopening your wounds from each time he said something messed up to you. As you laid there motionless, with no light ruminating in the room except your phone, you began to feel tears well up in your eyes for the thirteenth time today.
Pursing your lips, you swiped up to read the messages and only felt reminded even further of every harsh word he said. Every cruel taunt, every moment of humiliation...and yet...
He was still right, despite being the biggest hypocrite known to man. And it pissed you off.
Why were you even laying here? Ignoring the world, rotting here like you're a vegetable. You knew that you were something to people, you knew that you were valued.
There wasn’t anything that was particularly motivating for you to get up, however. You ignored every need that you could have possibly wanted, subjecting yourself to sparseness. No matter how much you wanted to, the thoughts always came back and you didn’t know how to deal with them.
A small knock echoed from the front door. It was loud enough to hear, and you still shoved your head in the pillow and hoped it went away.
The longer time you went without answering it, the knocks became more frequent. It wasn’t Thoma, that’s who you could observe without getting up.
You finally managed to drag yourself out of bed, lazing about sounded so much nicer now that you were dreading who’s at the door. With a frustrated sigh, and irritation already to its peak of your heart, you opened the door to a familiar-ish face.
Little girl?
“Did you forget that you exist?” She said with a smile. “Welcome back to Earth! I didn’t know how long you’d be cooped up in here so I brought treats.”
You stared a bit longer than you meant to at the Tupperware of Asafiri in her hands, momentarily taken aback. “Heh?”
“Yanfei sent me here. Looks like you’re having a little bit of trouble getting back on your feet. I take it you know her?” She inquired.
“Yeah.” You blinked slowly, before holding the door a little wider. “Uh…come in, I guess. Thanks for the…treats.” You cringed. “Wow, I get why Heizou keeps being called a creep now, this can look so wrong.”
“The difference is that he does it to himself.”
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The warm water on your body was oddly refreshing.
Getting out of the shower was harder knowing that you'd come back to the gust of wind in your living room, but knowing you had fresher pajamas on was also a plus. Things didn't look too great on your mental, especially since you were accustomed to showering a lot in your fresher mind.
You put on the Lightning McQueen slippers you quite often wear, and moved to the kitchen after hearing soft chops of a knife. You wondered what Nahida was up to, staring at her cut apples and bananas before putting them into a huge bowl she found in your cupboard.
"This is a very odd fruit salad you're making." You drew attention to yourself before her eyebrows furrowed. "I don't know whether or not to tell you to be careful with knives."
"I'm smarter than you think I am." Nahida cooed. "I'm used to people being condescending."
"Oh...I'm sorry— You're killing me here, kid. Lady? Are you a child or not?" You asked desperately.
Nahida turned to you, her saturated green eyes stared at you with obviously deliberate thoughts roaming her head before she took a sharp breath. She pointed the knife at you. "Do you feel better?"
"Not...really? I mean, it happened. All of this at once." You tried to process it quicker, but your head failed you. It's like how you actually felt in the moment was blocked. "I feel like I'm in limbo, I don't want to see the sun these days."
"Your thoughts are your biggest enemy right now. Easy to overthink. It's a lot to deal with on your own, good thing you aren't, right?" Nahida lowered the knife, her expression softening. "I cut you up some fresh fruit. It's better than the Asafiri for now, you don't need that much sugar after not eating for a while, or you'll crash hard. And get a headache."
Looking at the bowl loaded with bananas and slices of apples, you couldn't help but wonder why you were even granted this much care anyway. You were in mild disbelief, sitting down at the island counter in front of Nahida. "Why are you actually here?" You said in defeat.
Nahida stopped cutting the fruit, gaze shifting from it to you. She couldn't find what she could say to answer you, but she did press her lips together. "Do you want me to be honest?"
"A little." Your voice lowered.
"Yanfei and Heizou," Nahida paused, trying to find her words, "They wanted to see if I could convince you to start streaming again."
You frowned immediately. "Oh. Thanks for being honest."
"You made progress today, but I don't expect you to be up to it. It's a really big step." She asked you, but you couldn't even decipher the intentions behind her eyes. It was impossible to detect what anybody was thinking nowadays. "They just told me to come over so they can hope their investigation moves."
You sighed, leaning back in your chair once you felt the bitterness course your body again. Hearing that made your mood possibly worse than what it would've been if you were in bed. "Not happening. Thanks for checking on me though, you can leave if you want."
"I knew you'd say that. I guess it's fair, people are...going crazy right now figuring out whether you're okay or not." Nahida smiled once you looked back up at her. "Both Scaramouche and your fans are trying to get anything they can on your wellbeing. It's better to wait it out."
Your hopeful face turned into a sullen one, shoulders slumped at the mention of his name. "I don't know if I can even go back at all."
"I'm not sure how hard this is for you, but with what happened, you've obviously been through enough. While it's your choice to go back, Yanfei is under the impression that you can get revenge." The shorter girl explained. "In my eyes, though...I think you're able to decide that for yourself."
You felt the weight of the memories heavily, your head daunting enough for you to let out a shaky breath. "You think so?"
Nahida nodded, humming, "You don't have to stream, but don't give him the satisfaction if you're upset. You shouldn't let him know that you're suffering because of what he did. The worst thing that you can do is prove him right."
Funnily enough, as soon as she said that, you felt tears well up in your eyes again. It struck a cord, and you knew she was right. It was just knowing that anybody would say it verbatim. "That's the same thing he told me too." You blinked back your tears, more resilient than you were a few minutes ago, but also to the brim of misery.
"He?"
You shook your head, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. "Thanks," You muttered, choking on your words. You couldn't manage to say anything else, otherwise you'd betray your steely posture. "I'll think about it. Just...stay here a little more with me, please. Maybe I'll...find the resolve or something."
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previous ♡ masterlist ♡ next
YOU ARE on your way to being one of the hottest streamer in your nation at the moment, racking a monthly average of 10 million viewers, but something specific bothers you about it. you know that a lot of people hate you, but there's this one account. one account that's been following you since the early days of your career. they leave a flood of rude comments in your stream, your moderators banned each account they made, but they keep making more. you are at the end of your tether. but you are yet to find out that this persistent cockroach is none other than your friend's friend (and the only other streamer that's bigger than you), scaramouche.
taglist ♡ @thystarsshine @veekoko @gumickajolli @simonisferal @kamiboo
@justpeachyteastea @feiherp @pinkismyfavcolor @aether-darling @kunisnaomi
@keiiqq @mine-lu @featuredtofu @danhenglovebot @k4zushi
@kyon-cherri @b4tm4nn @iiinaurate @quacking-simp @auroratumbles
@kookiibun @ulquiorraswife @amvpk01 @simplysm1le @h3xi2g0n3
@alatusorrow @scaranthropy @mellowberrie @magica-ren @vernith
@kabukipookie @bananasquash @suqarlaced @dellalyra @lightyagamifan
@yourfavoritefreakyhan @heartsforseo @yomishen @pwushizz @swivy123
@strxwberryfetish @ibyobi @ashfrommars4 @chemiru @ainnofinway
@agaygothicmushroom @levianamor @dragontammerz @wth121 @lylovw
@morgyyyyyyy @lovemari @suniika @melpomenelurks @yumejo89 @liuaneee
@franaby @tiddieshakeshownu (bold users means i'm having trouble tagging you)
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thisismeracing · 1 year ago
Text
Rosy cheeks, salty hair, warm bodies | MS47
Pairing: Mick Schumacher x fem!reader (she/her)
Word count: 5.3k
Warnings: not proofread; mentions public sex (but not really); graphic description of sex; p in v; oral (fem receiving); orgasm denail; mentions of food and alcohol; +18 (minors DNI);
Summary: After finally matching their schedules and booking a trip together, Yn and Mick decide to go to Mallorca for a well-deserved break. The fact that they went weeks without seeing one another and the tension around the hot weather and beach garments only helped build the momentum in which her boyfriend would absolutely ruin her in bed.
A/n: It's my first time posting a smut piece (stand-alone/one-shot), so I'm kinda nervous about the feedback lol I hope this was just enough description without getting boring or over-detailed. I got too carried away and ended up writing 5k when it was supposed to be a small smut just over 1k. Anyways, hope you guys like it, please let me know in the comments and asks (the anon option is working, so if you're shy feel free to use it) *mwah* 🤍
Based on this request. I hope I was able to deliver, nonny! 💙
see my masterlist | check here if you want to be on my new taglist
you can support my writing by liking and reblogging
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“Micky, can you help me with my bikini?” Yn whined stalking inside the room. Mick, who was lying on the bed, took his eyes off his phone to face Yn holding the most provocative piece of bikini he ever saw against her chest. Wind gushed inside the room through the open curtains, and the strings from her bottom piece moved deliciously against her tanned skin, her curls on top of her head moving like waves as well.
They were in Mallorca for a vacation after finally matching their schedules and taking a week off, far away from everyone and everything work-related. It wasn’t easy to see each other between race weeks, work, and classes, so both of them were hell-bent on spending as much time together as possible during the few days they got. Their friends were aware that for half of their break, Mick and Yn were each other's priorities, and they would give friends and family the attention, but only after working on the yearning for the other. 
“Sure,”  he smiled, pushing his body to the edge of the bed, and before he could get up, Yn was stepping between his legs, tits smashed behind her arm and the flowing piece of clothing right in front of him. 
Yn gave him a small smirk, turning around, and recklessly, or rather, purposely as the Schumacher knew his girlfriend very well, leaving the white bathing suit fall to the ground, “oops,” a giggle escaped her lips, and she bent to pick it up. Now, her ass was right in front of him, barely covered by the white fabric. It was as if she was giving him a show, exposing every inch of her to him in the most provocative way just to rile him up. Mick felt his body get warm, hands twitching to knead and touch her flash, but he was a patient man. He mastered the game she was trying to play. 
Maybe that was the reason she wanted to play in the first place: she knew he would take the reigns, knew he would bottle up all his pent-up frustration only to give it to her in the form of pleasure in bed. 
“Two knots?” Mick asked, already starting to twist the strings into a second know, as it was common for Yn to ask for it in a way to secure her bathing suit in place.
“No, just one,” she surprised him with her answer and made his ears perk up with the addition, “It’s easier to take it off that way.” 
Mick held in a breath, and bite his lips before letting go of the white piece and giving two taps on her bum to let her know he was finished. 
“Thank you, handsome,” Yn turned around, leaving a peck on his pink lips and running back to the bathroom. 
Mick knew he was in for a long day. He would go as far as to consider he was in for a long week because that was just Yn. She knew how to play his game, how to feed his imagination, how to push him to the edge only for them to jump together. She could very well keep the provocative jokes going around for the whole vacation. It was just the of them after all. They had yet to christen some spaces in the house.
It wasn’t long before they were both on the boat, the sun scalding against his skin as Mick found just the perfect spot to let the yacht float lightly with the waves. Away from the possibility of people on Land watching and far far away from other boats. It was them, the sun, and the calm waters.
“Love, you have to reapply your sunscreen,” Yn instructs with a bottle of the cream in her hands.
“You should too,” he mumbles when Yn starts putting the lotion on his cheeks, Mick’s hands instantly finding her waist to bring her body closer. 
“I will, but your skin is more sensitive than mine. I don’t want you looking like a lobster later,” 
“I think I rock the rosy cheeks.” It’s a joke, but he does, in fact, look stunning to Yn, especially after soaking up the sun and showing up with a new color to his face. It’s endearing.
“You do, but I’m not the biggest fan of the same color on your back, for instance,” she starts, skilled hands applying the lotion on his large shoulders. She kneads Mick’s skin and muscles under her fingers, leaving a kiss on the column of his neck and adding, “It wouldn’t be that fun to leave nails mark on your skin when it's sore. Takes away all the fun.” 
And oh, did he understand exactly what she was talking about. 
As the day went by, her provocative behaviors only got worse. She got bolder, going as far as taking off her bikinis to “tan properly” and leaving the two small pieces of fabric hanging on the yacht’s metal bar. They swam, joked around, and ate the food packed in the morning. It was so exhilarating to be just the two of them without work obligations looming around. Their shoulders seemed more relaxed, eyes lazily admiring everything around, body and mind completely calm. 
“I love you,” Yn whispered, giving Mick one more bite of the watermelon they were sharing. His pink lips curled up in a smile, the juice from the fruit escaping and sliding to his chin. Yn admired the image before dipping her face to his and licking the spot clean.
“I love you so much,” Mick echoed, holding her jaw and directing her lips to his mouth. His lips parted, and their tongues found each other in a hungry kiss, the sweet taste of watermelon sugar still present, along with hints of the alcohol they shared earlier. “I appreciate you,” he confided, hands holding her body closer and changing positions so now Yn was directly under him, his torso between her parted legs. “I’m crazy about you,” Mick kept going, warm lips trailing down to her jaw and neck. Yn tangled her fingers between his golden strands in a silent cry for him to not distance his lips from her, for him to keep going forever. 
Mick was the perfect lover, and as the sun started to change positions in the sky, bathing their wet bodies in its sunlight, illuminating the scene as if the big star was watching it, Yn couldn’t help but to feel the luckiest woman alive. 
“You’re so perfect,” his elbow left the ground, his body lowering on top of hers, and his now free hand squeezed her ass. “Everything about you is perfect,” Mick stated before kissing her hard nipples against the top of the white bikini. She swore she could feel his warm mouth suck it, yet Mick did not move the clothing, just directed his face closer to her again and captured her lips in another kiss. 
And as much as Yn expected her boyfriend to lose control and make love to her on top of his boat, she knew he wouldn’t do so, not today, at least. She suspected the make-out session was very much intentional, to make her horny and somehow work as a payback for all the teasing she did throughout the day. 
“The sun will set in some hours. We should go back,” Mick mumbled, still assaulting Yn’s neck. “I’m cooking for you tonight,” he added.
Yn smiled, caressing his back, his muscles relaxed under her nails, “I’m starving.” 
“I’m gonna feed you well, stuff you full of...” he trailed off because her lips bite his. If Mick kept throwing double-meaning words at her, she wouldn’t be able to wait until they got home. “Full of pasta, Schatz. I’m cooking pasta tonight,” he teased, and they both burst out laughing.
“We better get going if you really wanna cook dinner.” Yn pressed a peck to Mick’s cheeks, and he got up, adjusting his swim shorts and then helping Yn up as well. 
The ride back to the coast was peaceful, and they took the time to admire the place a bit more, the clear waters even clearer with the sunlight. Families, friends, and couples, swimming around and enjoying the weather and the free time. Everything seemed inviting and tranquil. 
They took the car back to the house, and Mick didn’t let space for Yn to suggest a joint shower. He knew if they got inside the bathroom together, they wouldn’t leave for dinner or anything sooner than in the morning. So he took the safe option and went shower in the guest suite while Yn got ready in their room. 
“Did you take classes? It smells fantastic,” Yn voiced when she emerged from the bathroom. Mick was already fully dressed, in black slacks and a white polo shirt, he was barefoot, and his salty hair was sticking everywhere, still naturally drying after the shower. 
“I did, in fact,” he chuckled, adding a bit of salt to the sauce. “I used my free day during the France GP to make a gastronomic tour, and they offered a free course on some dishes,” he explained before turning around to face Yn. She saw the moment he gulped, eyes trailing down her figure and taking in the sundress hugging her curves just right. 
The green fabric was just the perfect shade against her tanned dark skin, although Mick suspected there wasn’t a color that wouldn’t go with her tone. Anything Yn wore, she did it flawlessly, and he would never get tired of watching her with different sets and colors going around her day as if things were normal. Meanwhile, he was trying to stop his heart from bursting through his throat. 
“You like it?” she asked a bubbly tone to her voice, twirling her dress around. 
“Did I like it?” Mick echoes, putting his two hands on his hips and doing a once over on Yn again. “I fucking adored it, Schatz,” he panted, and she smiled.
Mick winked at her and turned back to the stove in a poor attempt to calm his nerves. They had to have dinner before eating dessert. He reminded himself. 
“I’m taking you on a ride later,” some minutes passed until the German mentioned, now skipping to the pasta dough, it was ready to go into the pan. 
“Oh, then let me switch for pants,” Yn pointed at her dress, and Mick smirked.
“Nah, you got just the right outfit for my plans.” 
Her eyebrows went up for less than a second before her mind registered the double meaning behind his words, a chuckle passing between her lips. She absolutely adored his dirty side and how it started coming out in hints and soft words before going on full mouthy. 
“Let me help you with dinner,” it was not a question, and Mick knew she was plotting something when she got in front of him, reaching for the cupholder when he had yet to give her instructions.
Her ass brushed against his crotch, and he bites his lips to keep both, the groan from escaping his throat, and his hands from grabbing her hips and smashing her flesh harder against him. But Mick knew sex worked like the art of cooking sometimes. You had to be patient with the right timing, not too soon, or it will be undercooked, not too late as it can get burned. 
However, Yn was still in her teasy mood, and Mick couldn’t do anything but try to hold himself back. At least until he finished dinner. Yn knew it was taking him everything, especially because Mick loved to feed and fuck her, most of the time on this order, but not always. Nonetheless, considering their lunch was a packed sandwich and fruits back in the boat hours ago, she knew he would make sure she had food on her belly and enough energy to keep up with his stamina. 
So dinner prep was harder than Mick anticipated, and for as curious as it seems, it was the same for Yn. She was the one teasing, but Mick, sure as well, knew how to pay with the same coin, so when they sat at the table to eat, they were both flushed and eager to be over with the food. The latter was indeed as tasty as the smell gave out, and Yn did not hold back her praises to her boyfriend about how good his course was and how she was excited for when he would try some new recipe again. 
After they were both finished, Mick stood up to take the dishes to the kitchen, claiming it was time for dessert, and for a second, Yn believed him until her boyfriend showed up at the table empty-handed.
Well, not empty-handed per se.
Mick had two protein bards and two bottles of water in hand. A playful smirk was on display on his lips.
“Dessert is a protein bar?” Yn wondered aloud.
“Nah, that’s for later,” Mick murmured before sitting back on his chair and putting up his palm for Yn, silently asking for her hand. She held it, and he motioned for her to get up and stand between his open legs and the table, “Did you already forget what my dessert was supposed to be?” he teased, and Yn felt her legs shake in anticipation. “What? Cat got your tongue, Schatz?” 
Mick’s hand brought her body closer by the waist, face dipping and bit and appreciating the view of her hard nipples against the fabric of the green dress right in front of his face. He parted his lips just enough to roll one between his teeth, wetting the fabric, and, consequently, Yn’s panties. 
She whimpered.
Mick smiled, finally hearing something from her. 
“You made my job a lot easier wearing this piece, babe,” it was said out loud, but it seemed as if Mick was talking to himself for a second. Yn was too absorbed between the feeling of his mouth playing and teasing her boobs and his skilled hands traveling the length of her dress, dipping under it to share her attention. 
“Micky,” Yn chanted before he smashed their lips together in a sloppy kiss. 
There was a hint of wine mixed with her balm, and Mick had to withdraw for a second to let the guttural noise go past his lips. Yn swallowed it in a new kiss, fingers gripping his hair tightly and bringing him closer, taking what she wanted without an ounce of hesitation. 
“You teased me too much. I’m not letting you get away with it,” the German interrupted, dipping his hands under her dress one more time, except this time, his fingers found the side of her panties and pushed it down to her ankles. A grin formed on Mick’s face when he noticed the wet spot in the middle of the clothing. Yn stepped off the piece, and he directed her body right on top of the table, legs spread for him, pussy right in front of his face. 
What a dessert. 
If his temper weren’t so controlled, he could easily rip his pants and fuck her until everyone on that island knew how hard they went in bed. However, he wasn’t that guy. He knew exactly how to work Yn’s body, and this week was all about extending their pleasure and taking their time. 
He had the energy to do so.
And that he did when he held Yn’s ankle, opening her legs even wider while kissing her inner thighs. Yn shudders when his breathing hits her center, and there’s a jolt on her body when his lips finally make contact with her pussy. Mick pays attention to everything, kissing, touching, and tracing. It’s almost infuriating how good he is at it, mainly because some things just happen naturally, such as when he’s licking her entrance and his nose has just the perfect size to bump against her clit in a friction that makes her toes curl but still are not enough to make her cum. 
And Mick knows that. He knows exactly what his body and actions do to Yn, and he has fun in the process. He enjoys every stage of sex with Yn, and maybe that’s why they find solace in giving each other pleasure. Mick gets hard just at the thought of giving head to Yn, and you could definitely say the same about Yn. 
“You so wet,” he jibes, sucking her clit just enough to make her moan louder. “Look at me, Schatz, look at the mess you’re making on my face,” and didn’t she look?!
The scene of Mick between her legs, jaw, and mouth glistening with her juices, eyes a shade darker, and lips parted, ready to dive in again, was enough to bring another whimper out of her. 
“Please, Mick,” she pleaded, and his sly grin only grew bigger.
“You spent the whole day testing me. Now you’re going to take it like a good girl. I’m not even close to finishing with you.”
And then his lips were attached to her clit again, sucking, licking, and drawing figures. When her hips roll off the table and up to his mouth, pushing his face impossibly closer, Mick groans, lacing his arm around her torso and keeping her in place, “Be. Fucking. Patient.” Each word was punctuated by a flick of his tongue on her most sensitive spot, and Yn can’t help but cry his name. 
“Babe, please, use your fingers,” it’s a whine, a plea, after minutes of Mick lazily sucking and licking her pussy. Each time he does it gets wetter. It’s like her body is hanging on his mercy and his wants. 
Yn feels his lips pull against her pussy before he withdraws, kissing around her legs, and finally, fucking finally –she sighs– he inserts one finger inside. It’s not enough, though it stretches her just right until a second and longer finger makes its way inside too. Yn’s body shakes from pleasure, and she squeezes her tits harder under her own hands. 
“Mick, it feels so good,” the praise escapes between her lips, and he takes the opportunity to insert yet another finger. This time she screams his name, and the blonde knows she’s getting closer to her climax. 
She was looking fucking fantastic in front of him, and, for a second, he saw himself considering the possibility of delaying her orgasm for a while longer, only to watch her body sprawled on top of the table, legs spread, dress bunched up her hips, one of its sleeves unabashedly down revealing her hard nipple and tit, hair around her head like a crown. 
She was a sigh for sore eye. 
Mick moved his fingers inside her delivering motions he knew would bring her closer to the edge. He let go of her hips just to find her tits and pinch one between his pointer and forefinger. Mick did it all without stopping his fingers inside of her. He explored, kissed, and licked a bit more, and he did it all, grinning up at her like a devil. 
“Best fucking dessert ever,” Mick vowed. 
He watched as Yn bite her lip, her hips pushing closer to him, back arching and toes curling, he watched it all unfold, and he wanted to keep that image engraved on his mind forever. The image and the feeling of her fingers threading through his hair, pushing his face closer to her entrance, seeking her own high without an ounce of shame. 
The wait was so worth it.
“C’mon, Schatz, you can let go,” he mumbled against her pussy, taking her clit between his lips and rolling his tongue just right to throw Yn over the edge. 
She screamed his name. She whimpered at him. It was him she praised and thanked as she rode her high with his fingers still inside her, lips and tongue helping her through the wave so it would last longer.
Mick smiled against her thighs before pushing up the chair and kissing his way up to her neck. His fingers worked on her dress to remove it completely, and Yn could only sigh in a relaxed instance while her boyfriend worked on the sweet spot on her neck. 
“How was dessert?” she whispered, and Mick chuckled.
“Fucking phenomenal, Schatz. It tasted like heaven,” his words were delivered while his ocean-blue eyes stared right into her, and her body shuddered deliciously. “Here,” Mick dipped his face close to her lips, and Yn was quick to kiss him feeling the wet spots on his jaw work against her skin. 
She groaned, and he grounded his hard-on against her lower half involuntarily. 
“Fuck me, just fuck me, Mick,” and oh, there was something so dirty about the whole scene. Yn was lying completely naked,  asking to be fucked, while Mick was still dressed up. 
“Not yet. Opposed to you, I was patient, and so I deserve to have dessert again,” He smirked. “I want you to listen attentively ok, love?” Yn could only nod, and Mick kept going. “We’re going to the bedroom, and you’re going to sit on my face. Not that hovering shit you like to pull up sometimes, you’re full-on sitting, and I’m gonna eat you out for a bit longer, just so you can understand how things work when you tease your boyfriend the whole day. Then, and only then, I’m fucking you, ass up, face down. If you behave, you get to have a fourth orgasm.” 
Yn nodded again, and Mick shook his head, “I wanna hear your voice, Schatz.”
“I’m sorry, Micky. I won’t tease you anymore, and I’m sitting on your face just like you want me to.”
And that she did.
 “Good girl,” the blonde praised when Yn kept her hips still for him to insert a finger inside. Her walls involuntarily wrapped around his digits. She was way too needy, and he almost gave up his games to give her what she wanted. Her orgasm came in shockwaves, this time harder than the first, and her body toppled backward, back finding the soft mattress between a series of swears and praises directed to her boyfriend. 
Mick kissed her naked body, fingers lazily caressing her sweaty skin, praising her silently. He reached for the water bottle, uncapped it, and planted a kiss on her jaw before handing it to her. Yn motioned for him to hold her up, and he laughed, putting her body in a seating position, supporting her back in case she fell. Yn gulped down the water and sighed, enjoying the break. 
“Do you want a protein bar now, meine Süße?”
“Please,” she put her hands together in a plea and then took another swing from the bottle. Mick chuckled yet again and opened the small bar handing it to his girlfriend. “Thank you,” Yn breathed.
She passed him the bottle, and Mick finished the water while watching her munch on the bar. Yn glanced at her fingers stained with chocolate syrup, and before she could clean them, Mick’s lips were attached around them licking them clean. 
“Tell me you’re finally fucking me, Mick,” Yn cried out, “I love it when you give me head, but right now, I need your dick. Inside me,” she added the last part running her nails over his neck. “Or you could let me suck you too. I wouldn't mind.”
And it was crazy how crude and free she could be around him without fear of judgment, never had Yn, in all her life, experienced love this way. The kind of love that can be both dirty and still warm and make you giggle. Mick was the perfect balance between both. He was a gentleman, he was careful, he was loving. But he knew when to be rough and dirty-mouthed, and oh, when he did, it was like experiencing a piece of heaven.
“You don’t deserve it right now,” Schumacher pondered, caressing her jaw, his fingers drawing around her cheekbones and coming straight into her open mouth. Yn sucked two digits in, twirling her tongue around and hollowing her cheeks, which cost a shudder followed by a grunt from Mick. 
“But you do. C’mon, Micky.” 
He shook his head, traced her face one more time, and then started to strip himself. When all his clothes are on the ground, Mick doesn’t waste any time fitting his body between Yn’s legs, mouth naturally finding hers in a languid kiss. His fingers knead the flesh of her ass pulling out pants from her. Mick could feel the familiar and impatient rise of her hips, pussy leaking her juices on the naked skin of his abs, “You’re gonna turn around now, stick your ass up, lie your face down, and let me fuck you just right, ok?” There’s a beat of silence, Yn trying to keep from trashing under Mick and begging him to just stick it in. She was so sensitive it wouldn’t take long for her third orgasm to hit. “I asked you a question, Schatz,” Mick pinched her nipple between his pointer and forefinger, and Yn whined but gathered the energy she just got from the protein barn to turn around and do exactly as told, once again body completely exposed and opened to her boyfriend. The confidence in the effects her curves had on him, and the certainty of a reward coming, only made the moment more electric. 
When Mick finally slides in, they both let out shaky breaths and although his dick goes easily all the way inside with the help of her moisture, her body still needs a second to accommodate his full size. The angle is just perfect. Mick has access to the headboard to steady himself if needed, he controls the pace by holding her waist, and his hands can travel around her whole body with ease. And that’s what he does.
With one of his hands positioned on Yn’s waist, he massages her ass with the other one and bends his body just enough to leave a wet kiss on the place where her neck and shoulders meet. She whines again because the movement just changed his position inside. Yn silently looks for his hands, squeezing them, and it’s all the confirmation Mick needs to now direct both hands to her midsection, and pull all the way out before slamming his hips against hers in a swift motion. 
His eyes roll back when she shudders and moans his name loudly. The Schumacher was grateful the house was theirs and only theirs for the whole week. Otherwise, everyone would hear what the couple was up to. 
Hips snapping again, it was Mick’s turn to let out his noises, hands coming down on Yn’s ass in a sharp slap when she rocked back against him just right and hit a spot that sent both of them to see stars. 
“Micky, you’re filling me up so good,” Yn panted. 
“You’re such a dirty girl,” he husked, and she moaned louder. “Go ahead. You can moan as loud as you want. Let me hear you, babe. Who’s filling you up good, huh?” 
“Answer. Me.” He punctuated each word with a deep stroke, and Yn could feel the coil starting on her stomach and traveling to her lower belly. 
“You, Mick- oh fuck,” Yn choked. “You’re the only one to make me feel this way.” 
The Schumacher bent his body, nipping at Yn’s neck without stopping the snap of his hips. Yn pressed her eyes closed, trying to stand on her elbows, Mick’s lips quick to find hers in a sloppy kiss, smiling and moaning, swallowing every dirty word whispered. His fingers traveled to her front and flicked against her clit, pressing and pinching it, bringing Yn to the edge. 
“I’m about to cum, Mick.”
“No, you’re not coming yet,” he breathes the order, lips kissing and biting her neck, hips thrusting, and fingers moving. It’s too much, and Yn can’t help but voice it loudly. It’s way too good, but it’s also way too much. She wouldn’t be able to hold back, and just when she was about to reach that peaceful space, to snap the coil on her belly, Mick stopped everything. 
“Mick!” It was a frustrated plead, and he turned her on her back, smiling up like a devil. 
“Want you to look at me,” he rasped, and she mewled when he buried himself inside her again without much ceremony. The new angle brought more intimacy, and when her legs opened wider, lacing themselves around it, they knew it was enough to make them cum even faster than they would before. 
Yn raked her nails through the skin of his back, and Mick rutted harder against her pussy, his hands looking for leverage on the headboard before sliding off and thrusting in harder. He repeated the motion some more until Yn grabbed him by his golden chain and smashed their foreheads together, “Tell me what you want. Use your words,” Mick ordered.
“Let me cum, kiss me, touch me,” she begged, and Mick rolled his eyes back from pleasure. There was something so unique about having that side of her, a side only he could see.
“Spread your legs wider, touch yourself, and don’t take your eyes off me, m’kay?” 
“Ok,” Yn nodded and did exactly as told, fingers lazily playing with her clit while he kept his pace going. Her free hand found his shoulders holding it for support when Mick ducked his head and took her boob inside his mouth, tongue swirling around the bud and teeth scraping it lightly. 
She could feel her body dissolving into pleasure, pushing her to the edge, toes curling, eyes involuntarily starting to shut, but there he was, face near her again, kissing and nipping her jaw and eyes finding hers and then sinking his dick in a hard thrust, just what Yn needed to topple over, nails digging harder on Mick’s back. 
“Don’t hold back, Schatz,” he cooed, slowing his movements but not stopping. “You did so well. Can you take just one more?” 
She was still dizzy in ecstasy, adrenaline coursing through her body. Her fingers tangled on his chain again, and Mick obliged, kissing her hard and starting a new series of thrusting, gridding, and hutting, now searching for his own relief. 
Yn contracted her pussy, her body still riding the orgasm. It was hell and heaven, and Mick could only take so much. He tried closing his eyes, but it was her turn to bark a simple order, “Keep your eyes on mine, Mick. I wanna see you cum.”
And that he did. He stared deep into Yn’s eyes while his body switched paces on its own accord, from fast and hard, to lazy and deep, and then hard again, until he couldn’t take it anymore, his features going dark, pink lips spelling all the most profanes and dirty things imaginable before his hips stilled coming inside her, taking yet another orgasm from Yn. 
They collapsed together in bed, his body on top, dick still twitching inside her. 
“That was…woah-” Yn’s voice was raspy, and Mick chuckled, moving his face to the side to plant a kiss on her neck. 
Yn’s fingers threaded through Mick’s short strands, massaging his scalp while they evened out their breaths. 
“Is there more from that pasta we had for dinner?” Yn asked, and the German kissed his way to her chest, resting his head there and letting out a sigh of pleasure. 
“I’m gonna grab it for you, and then we’re going at it again in the shower. I’m not done with you yet.” He reached for the other water bottle by the nightstand and unclasped it, taking a swing and pushing it toward Yn. 
“I guess that’s what I get for dating an athlete, huh?” she joked before sitting up slightly and sipping her water.
“Oh, but you love it, don’t you?” 
Yn smiled bright and big. Her body was floating after four orgasms and so much affection, “I do. I love you.” 
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taglist: @sachaa-ff @ferrariloverr @kenanlotus0 @mellowpizzapuppy @mickslover @Dalsuwaha @formulakay3 @mishaandthebrits @iloveyou3000morgan @crimeshowjunkie
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glow-worms-are-believers · 8 months ago
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Heya so this is Damian's pov in the chapter 16 of my fic Hostage situations and other romantic activities based on @iguessthisisanewobsession's prompt! I had it written out and though it doesn't fit in with the main storyline, I figured I'd post it here and link it in case anyone was curious. Feel free to ignore this if you haven't read the fic <3
Hope you guys enjoy:) (Spoilers ahead)
Damian’s head hurt. Zsasz had managed to get in a good hit before Damian had managed to knock him out, or at least what he thought had been a knock-out. He’d been sloppy and now the teen’s head was throbbing. At least, he had seen no injuries on Danny though the other boy had been very pale and looked unwell. 
That was another thing. Danny.
Gotham wasn’t a safe place for civilians, and metas had it even worse. That was true everywhere but in Gotham even more so; discrimination, increased risk of violence, even human experimentation. 
It wasn’t surprising that Danny would want to keep his abilities a secret. But something about the blast, how despite clearly having been instinct, the shot had been so very precise that Damian who had been pinned under Zsasz hadn’t felt more than a cold blast of wind made it seem as if there was more to it than that.
And right now, as he was perched up in the tree waiting for law enforcement, there was nothing to do but to speculate.
No, that was untrue, he thought as he took his phone out of his pocket. He could do more than that. 
He could research. And so he did. 
And found nothing.
Oh sure, there was a blurry picture here, an oblique mention there but no proof of existence beyond a social security number, a high school diploma, and one measly article.
No birth certificate, no social media, no medical file, not even a driver’s license.
It wasn’t that Danny Fenton was a ghost. It was more like he was a half-finished person.
Damian breathed out slowly. 
It wasn’t Danny’s powers that made him suspicious. It was everything else.
An hour later, Damian slid down into the now dark forest and started walking.
Damian looked up to see Danny coming down carefully. Damian steeled his expression into a neutral one, unwilling to let his thoughts play on his face.
“Daniel,” Damian started formally. “You went back to the school.”
That was a point in the boy’s favour; at least, he had not ran.
“Yeah,” Danny answered, too casually. “thanks again for saving my butt back there.”
Damian nodded, but abstained from saying anything further in favour of studying Danny’s expression. He didn’t seem any different but Damian knew appearances could be deceiving.
“So-“ Danny started but Damian wasn’t interested in small talk.
“I could not find a picture of you before your fourteenth birthday,” Damian stated clearly.
“Uh,” Danny stumbled. “Ok?”
“Nor could I find a birth certificate in your name.” Damian continued expecting a twitch, a frown, something.
“Yeah,” Danny answered calmly, waving. “Mom and Dad are terrible at paperwork.”
Alright. If that was how Danny would play it. Flimsy excuses could only go so far. 
“No social media, no bank account. Not even a tax return in twenty years.”
“IRS have given up long before I was born,” Danny answered airily. “And Amity’s not the safest place for technology.”
Damian studied the boy in front of him. He looked relaxed and mostly at ease. A bit confused, a bit tired if anything. And Damian wanted to believe it. 
Yet, both his instinct and his experience were telling him not to, and so Damian forged on.
“Why did you come to Gotham?” Damian asked.
“What?” Danny answered, once again frowning in confusion. “Uh, I’m here for school? I think I told you that.”
This was getting insulting.
“Do not lie to me,” Damian said, feeling something brewing.
“I’m not,” Daniel persisted in a stupid simplistic excuse. “I’m really here for school.”
Damian clenched his jaw, keeping his eyes peeled on the deceptive face in front of him. Damian had come for the truth and he was going to get it. 
“You truly had me fooled,” Damian stated as he slowly started to circle the other teen. “I did not suspect you for a moment.”
“What are you even talking about?” Danny said, but Damian wasn’t listening to more lies.
“Why did you approach me?” Damian asked asking from Danny’s side. Because that was the most logical explanation, no matter what Damian wanted to believe. It wouldn’t be the first time mother or another one of his enemies had sent someone to kill him. He had to consider the possibility. Danny turned to keep himself facing Damian.
“I didn’t,” Danny stressed, his voice almost snarling. Good. More likely to let something slip.
“Maybe so, but you did not turn down the opportunity to do so either.” Damian allowed, because it truly would’ve been a convoluted plan to manipulate Damian into choosing Danny.
“What,” Danny’s voice biting. “Like you left me any choice?”
Damian stopped short at that. He knew he could be forceful and overbearing but he would never force anyone to do anything like that. He was nothing like her.
“Damian,” Danny’s voice rose again, kinder, softer. “Im not sure what this is, and we can talk about it, I-”.
No. This wouldn’t work. Damian wouldn’t let himself be pacified like a child. “You have deceived me,” Damian reminded himself and Danny
“I haven’t,” Danny protested but Damian wasn't listening. 
“You are not who you say you are.” That was the truth. And no matter what he said, Daniel knew it too.
“Yes, I am,” Danny refuted strongly and Damian had had enough. There was one thing Daniel could no longer lie about.
 “Are you?” Damian asked clearly. “Tell me Danny, are you human?”
Danny flinched and Damian’s heart sank even as it confirmed what Damian already knew.
“That’s what I thought,” said Damian, more calmly than he felt.
“What does that mean?” Danny asked, still trying to pretend but Damian wouldn’t let him.
“It means, I am ashamed I let you get so close.”
It means I know, Damian thought. It mean there’s no use pretending. It means, please do not try. 
There was a moment of silence where Damian held his breath. For Danny to finally give it up and admit it.
Daniel took a deep breath before letting it out slowly. And Damian held himself straighter. Daniel opened his mouth but closed it again.
And then finally-
“Please leave,” Danny’s voice came and what was left of Damian’s hope froze over.
So this was it then. 
“Fine,” Damain said dispassionately. “I’ll send you the severance pay before the end of the week.”
“I don’t want it,” Daniel bit out and Damian could feel something ugly within him rear its head, and Damian let it take the place of the coldness.
“Waynes believe in tying up loose ends,” Damian said silkily. “It does not do to for past indiscretions crop up at importunate times.”
“Ok no. I’m done with this.” Danny stalked off, and it welled up again, poisonous and mean.
“I would be happy to give a recommendation to any new employer of yours,” Damian shouted. 
He knew he was supposed to be better than this, but he couldn’t help it.
“Screw you!” Danny yelled back and Damian snarled, stopping himself from punching at a tree or something equally stupid and emotional.
Whatever. He turned away and started walking.
It wasn’t like it had been a real relationship. It wasn’t like it had meant anything. Damian started running.
It had done what it was supposed to do, and really, Damian had gotten out of it exactly what he wanted. 
The thought did nothing to appease the empty feeling in his chest as he made his way back home.
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agi-ppangx · 11 months ago
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the boy who turned my head (lee minho x fem!reader)
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word count: 1,6k author's note: this is the last fic in 2023. thank you for your constant support, i wouldn't have done anything without any of you<3 i hope 2024 will be kind for all of us. i'll try my best to continue this wonderful tumblr journey with you by my side. i love you all<3
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it all started with a song.
it was pretty late and the party had been going for a few hours. the alcohol in your veins made your brain all fuzzy and it wasn’t long before you ended up on the dancefloor, forgetting about the world around you as you swayed to yet another song blasting from the speakers. you felt happy as you threw your hands in the air, laughing loudly.
then the songs changed and everyone’s attention shifted to the boy in the middle of the crowd, grinning widely while dancing to bruno mars’ song. people cheered as the boy smoothly performed the dance steps and you did too, until he locked his eyes with yours and you stopped in your tracks. the world around you collapsed as it was only you and him left. the boy smiled at you and took your hand and, well, swept you to the middle of the dance floor. and you let him, of course you let him - he was just so charming and his smile was so mesmerising and he looked at you with the literal galaxies in his eyes and- 
“kiss her!” someone shouted from the crowd, loud enough for the boy to hear. he looked at you with a giddy smile, resting his forehead on yours. 
“may i?” he mouthed, searching for the answer in your curious eyes. you blinked a few times, thinking about it, and then without any warning leaned forward to capture the boy’s lips in a passionate, yet a bit messy kiss. you squished his cheeks with your palms, earning a little giggle that escaped his mouth right into yours. and you stayed on the dance floor long after that, your steps becoming more and more wobbly, but you knew he wouldn’t let you fall. 
“can i have your number?” he asked you in the morning as you were heading to the exit, the sun lazily creeping out from behind the horizon. your head hurt, your phone was dead and you were still drunk. 
“my number…? i, um- wait, what’s your name?” you mumbled, looking at him with glassy eyes. 
“it’s minho,” he chuckled, blushing slightly. he must’ve had a greater tolerance for alcohol, because except for his goofy aura he looked perfectly fine. 
“oh, right! so, minho, unfortunately i’m too drunk now and i forgot my number,” you started, wobbling a little on your feet. minho quickly wrapped his arm around your waist, helping you stay stable. “so maybe you should ask chan? i’m sure he has my number somewhere in his phone.” he nodded, letting out a little “ah”.
“will you get home safely?” he then asked, scanning your rather pathetically looking figure. you smiled, nodding. 
“yeah, my friend- she should be here any minute now,” you slurred, seeing the familiar car pull on the driveway. “oh, she’s here! see, i told you,” you grinned, patting his arm a few times. “see you soon, minho,” you waved at him, slowly making your way to the car, leaving the boy behind you. 
“who was that?” your friend asked curiously as she noticed your giddy smile. you looked at him one last time before she drove off and you sighed dreamily. 
“a boy who turned my head.”
. . . .
the cold wind made you shiver as you stepped out of changbin’s house. you were wearing that short blue dress that minho liked so much, but he wasn’t particularly interested in it anyway. throughout the whole party he’d acknowledged you once, only saying a vague “hi” to you. 
it’d been going like that for months. since the very beginning your relationship with minho was constantly balancing between friendship and something more. one day he was all over you, taking you on dates and holding your hand for the whole time, only for him to ghost you for the next few weeks or dismiss you with short messages. he showered you in gifts, kissing your forehead and smiling like a teenager in love, but whenever a sweet old lady in the store would call you such a cute couple, minho would immediately cut her off, saying that she’s only my friend. and it made you confused and hurt - didn’t he see how much love your eyes contained for him? didn’t he see how hard you fell for him?
“yn? where are you going?” you heard minho’s voice behind you. he placed his hand on your shoulder, stopping you before you had the chance to walk out. it was getting close to midnight - you could’ve waited to celebrate new year with everyone and then go, but you’d had too much. 
“home. i’m kind of tired,” you shrugged your shoulders, dropping your head not to make eye contact with minho. the wind blew again and you covered yourself with your arms. why didn’t you take something warmer with you? 
“oh, here,” he said, taking off his jacket and trying to put it on your shoulders, but you took a step back. It left minho dumbfounded, his mouth opening and closing a few times as if he was trying to say something.
“i don’t- i don’t want your jacket,” you mumbled, your voice already breaking a little. great, you thought. “i told you i’m tired.”
“yeah, but what does it have to do with me giving you my jacket?” minho chuckled, trying to lighten the atmosphere a bit. to say he was confused would be an understatement. you sighed loudly, looking around. was he really that blind?
“it’s not about the fucking jacket, minho!” you snapped, feeling defeated. your eyes started to get glassy, tears slowly forming in the corners of them. you shook your head, trying to calm yourself down. “i’m tired of you treating me like a toy,” you whispered the last word, taking in a sharp breath. “you always come to me whenever you feel lonely and then ghost me when your needs are met. but you somehow completely missed the fact that i, in fact, am a human being myself and i-” you stopped abruptly when minho stood right in front of you with a frightened expression. you looked him in the eyes and suddenly the world around you vanished, just like the day you first met. 
“do you really feel used by me?” he whispered in disbelief, his voice so quiet and weak that you almost felt bad for him. you let out a shaky breath, a single tear slowly falling down your face. 
“i- no, it's just- we do all of that cute stuff together, we cuddle and we go on our little dates and i thought it meant something to you,” you mumbled, wiping your face. you heard some noise from inside the house and you knew midnight was getting closer. “i just feel really dumb, you know? i fell for someone who doesn’t even care about me,” you chuckled dryly, taking a step back and trying to walk away, but minho was quicker. he wrapped his hand around your wrist and in a smooth motion brought you to his chest, hugging you tightly. 
“i’m so sorry, i- i was scared, i was so stupid,” he rambled, combing his fingers through your hair. you stiffed, not sure what to do next, though it was nice to feel minho’s arm cradling you again. “i was afraid i’d lose you, that you’d leave me if i got too vulnerable.” you wrapped your arms around his waist, squeezing him gently as he continued. you inhaled softly his cologne and it made you cry a bit more. that’s how home smells for you. “i never wanted to make you feel this way, i’m so sorry,” he whispered another apology and you just stood there, unable to form a sentence. minho mumbled i’m sorry and please forgive me over and over into your hair like a mantra and it made you smile faintly into his chest. 
suddenly you heard people shouting inside the house and you realised that they were counting down. you thought quickly, trying to decide what to do. 10, 9, 8. you pulled away from minho’s chest slightly so you could look him in the eyes. you realised he was crying. 7, 6, 5. you cupped his cheeks, wiping the tears that had fallen. you smiled at him and he leaned into your touch, closing his eyes. he looked as if he tried to take as much as he could from that moment, like it was meant to be taken away from him forever when the clock strikes midnight. 4, 3, 2. you leaned forward, letting your foreheads touch and minho snapped his eyes open. he looked confused, but a smile finally appeared on his face. 1, 0, new year! minho’s lips crashed into yours, taking your breath away, but you let him, of course you let him. now it was quiet, only the two of you left on the planet as you kissed with the same lust as the first time. 
you were the first to pull away, desperately gasping for air with the biggest grin plastered on your face. minho cradled your face gently. his entire world fit in his hands. 
“let’s say it’s forgiven, not forgotten,” you whispered. “you don’t have to apologise anymore if you promise me to work on your behaviour.” minho nodded at your words, kissing you again as if he tried to seal the oath.
“now you can actually give me the jacket, i’m freezing,” you said with a giggle and he chuckled, placing the material over your shoulders and you happily inhaled his scent one more time. you were home again.
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taglist !
@lynlyndoll @iyenbread @flooo71 @skz-streamer @inniescandy-01 @hannahhbahng @prettymiye0n @ggsez31 @laylasbunbunny @like-a-diamondinthesky @axel-skz @kittymaryam-thebrowniefairy @l3visbby @skzhoes
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dyns33 · 1 year ago
Text
Feeling rainy
Another Dream x female reader 
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      “Honey, you look cloudy today. No, rainy."
     "I confirm, he is very rainy at the moment."
     "Matthew. Leave us."
     "Right away, boss. But I'm sick of being wet all the time when I fly in the Dreaming, thank you very much."
It had taken a little time, but during their relationship, Y/N had acquired several certainties about Morpheus, especially about his mood.
The master of nightmares was not very good at expressing his feelings. Mainly because he didn't always know them himself. Partly because he was stupid and not very good with people.
His emotions were like a storm inside him. And therefore, a storm inside the Dreaming, especially when he was nervous, angry or sad.
Happy or neutral sentiments were preferable, with the sky remaining blue, the sun lighting up the whole realm, and the wind seeming to sing melodies.
 Sometimes it was a little too hot, when he was in love and excited, but that was no big deal. Also, it never lasted very long.
Like the weather, Morpheus' mood was changing very quickly, and very easily.
And even though he was doing his best to hide his feelings behind a straight face, the Dreaming never left any doubt that something was bothering him.
     "Is it because of last night ?" Y/N asked calmly.
     "I don't wish to talk about it, love."
     "Not even to please me ? I don't like it when you rain, especially because of me."
     "... It's not because of you. I probably overreacted."
     "Kind of like always, darling, but that doesn't mean your feelings aren't valid. Do you want a hug ?"
     "... Maybe."
The tall, terrible prince of the stories certainly didn't like being seeing as weak, but when Dream was in Y/N's arms, he looked like a cat desperately trying not to purr with pleasure, totally at her mercy.
It wasn't a problem since they were alone, but dreams and nightmares guessed what was going on, as the clouds disappeared and a rainbow formed over their heads.
     "She has to cuddle him all the time."
     "Hush."
     "Merv is right. I may be his more or less emotional raven, but he clearly needs her as an emotional human."
     "Get out of my library."
All of this could have gone quite well, since Y/N had managed to decode the functioning of the Dreaming, and therefore of Dream, but sometimes he was visibly lost and upset by her emotions, not knowing how to help her, and beginning to feel them with her.
Which was not a good thing, for him, nor for his kingdom.
Y/N therefore asked for advice around her, knowing that it was useless to ask Morpheus directly. Morpheus never really answered questions. That being said, his subjects weren't necessarily better for it.
Lucienne, loyal intelligent Lucienne advised her to speak to the Lord, as communication was important, although she had to be careful how she wanted to express what she wanted to say, as the Lord could misunderstand things.
Merv and Matthew thought that they should say nothing and just cover him with kisses and compliments so that he would always be happy. Because everyone wanted him to be happy, and everyone loved rainbows.
The Corinthian had a different opinion.
     "You have to do exactly like him." he declared with three huge smiles.
     "What do you mean, like him ?"
     "You want to help him by doing anything so that he doesn't get overwhelmed by emotions ? So don't show any emotion yourself. Keep them inside, act neutral, use a monotonous voice, express your love with ridiculously complicated little sentences, and it will be perfect."
Normally, it would have been strongly discouraged to listen to a nightmare. But despite their bickering, the Corinthian was arguably one of the creations that knew Morpheus best, so Y/N thought it wasn't a bad idea.
After all, Dream was a bit like a sponge. Absorbing all the dreamers' hopes, fears, desires, emotions, and though he was a separate being who felt distinctly, he couldn't completely cut himself off from the rest of the world.
So it seemed logical that he was sometimes troubled by others, and therefore by Y/N, with whom he spent the most time.
It didn't cost much to imitate him. It wasn't necessarily easy, but she could do it, for him, so it wouldn't be rainy or stormy too often.
So she trained in front of a mirror, doing her best to remain impassive as she thought about a joke, her deceased grandfather, an adorable kitten, her boss whom she wanted to strangle, and lots of things that never left her indifferent.
Part of her had thought Morpheus wouldn't notice. Another hoped he would see it, that he would be happy, and that she could smile to herself.
While they were watching her favorite movie together, a funny scene played out and she didn't react. Then another, and another, until Y/N felt that Dream's attention was no longer on the screen, but on her.
     "My love, you seem distant."
     "Not at all. I'm enjoying a pleasant evening, with you." she said with a neutral tone.
     "... You didn't laugh. Would you like to see another movie ?"
     "No, I like this movie. You weren't laughing either, do you want to change ?"
     "I never laugh."
    "Because you're too melancholic to find aything funny ?"
     "... No. My laughter... I was informed that my laughter could be frightening."
Y/N then turned to him, and at that moment, she almost smiled, finding the revelation ridiculous and adorable,  wanting to hear that laughter that her lover was so ashamed of, out of curiosity, but above all to reassure him.
Except that for that, she would have to show emotions, and make him feel emotions, and the goal was to remain as neutral as possible, so Y/N forced herself to remain neutral, looking at him straight in the eyes so that he knew that she was serious, while looking for the right wording.
"I'm sure your laugh is sweet." was the best thing that came to her, patting Morpheus' hand, before watching the movie again.
There were many other moments like this, at the New Inn, at the park, in the Dreaming, and Y/N really thought that everything was fine, that she was doing a good job. The weather seemed calm, with a few distant clouds, but no storms in sight.
Still, there was something in Morpheus' eyes when he looked at her. Curiosity mixed with fear. She didn't dare tell him about it, thinking it was nothing, and he didn't tell her either.
Until Matthew came to visit her as she was getting ready to go to sleep.
     "I don't know if I should ask you to go to bed quickly, or advise you to stay awake."
     "Why ? What's going on ? Morpheus is in trouble ?!"
     "Uh... That depends. Is everything okay between you two ?"
     "Yes, perfectly fine. Why ?" she asked, suddenly worried.
     "I don't know. It's foggy at the moment. We've had a few rains, a few tornadoes, but Lucienne managed to calm it down. Except that... Hmm... I don't know if I should say it."
     "Matthew."
     "He thinks you don't love him anymore." sighed the raven, lowering his head.
The news hit Y/N straight to the heart. For a moment, she wondered how Dream could have come to such a conclusion. Then she remembered how Dream was, his difficulties in understanding people, emotions, and even if he himself didn't often show what he felt, he clearly needed others to show him.
For a month, Y/N thought to make him happy. For a month, Morpheus thought she wanted to leave him.
     "... This is a terrible misunderstanding."
     "Glad to hear that. Can you tell him, please ?"
Falling asleep when stressed might take a while, but Y/N needed to see Morpheus quickly, so she closed her eyes thinking hard about him, and she arrived on the balcony of his palace.
It was raining.
Obviously, Matthew had come to see her before Lucienne went to speak to her master.
Dream stood in the rain, motionless, watching his realm. He didn't move when she came close to him, resting her head on his shoulder.
     "I love you, you know that ?" she asked shyly.
     "I hope so."
     "In wanting to please you, I made a mistake. Your mood changes so easily, you can be so fragile, so sensitive."
     "I'm not fragile." he muttered, continuing to stare into the distance.
     "You are, but that's neither an insult nor the question. I thought... The Corinthian told me that if I don't show my emotions, I won't upset you with them and that you I would be happy. I wanted to help, really. Since you know that I love you, I imagined that it wouldn't change anything. It would be inside, like for you. Sorry."
Finally, Dream turned to her, looking surprised and solemn. He stared at her for a long time, before taking a deep breath.
     "I see. So you made several mistakes, indeed."
     "Dream..."
     "You listened to the Corinthian, a nightmare."
     "I know."
     "You thought it would be good for you to keep your emotions inside, like me. Knowing that my emotions are never really inside, but entirely outside, in the Dreaming, while you should keep your storms in your little heart."
     "I get it, I..."
     "And you believed that I would like you to deprive me of your smile. Of your laughter. That you hide your sadness from me, which I could erase with kisses. Your anger, which I could appease with poems. Your love, which I carry in my chest. All this to make me happy ?"
So Morpheus did something that Y/N hadn't imagined.
He laughed. 
And like he said, his laugh was a little scary. Inhuman. A sound that mortals weren't supposed to hear, that no one was supposed to hear. But he was laughing, and he was smiling, and he came over to kiss her, and Y/N thought she liked that sound a lot.
     "My love, your emotions, all your emotions, are my joy. Do not hide them from me."
     "Okay. But promise me you'll tell me when it's rainy, and why."
     "Very well."
     "And I was right, your laugh is very sweet."
     "Yeah, I guess love makes you blind and deaf."
     "Matthew. Leave us."
     "Yes, boss. Glad it's not raining anymore."
Indeed, the sun had returned as he spoke, a bright sun, and even if the weather could never be perfect, like their relationship, Y/N would do everything to make Morpheus as bright as possible.
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