#the light that shreds through darkness

[madame-fear]

*ೃ༄ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐒𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒 .ೃ࿐

.·:¨༺ [ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟎𝟏 | 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠. ] ༻¨:·.

— summary : (y/n) Velaryon is Lucerys' aunt, Laenor's close cousin, and Vaemond's daughter. Lucerys nurtures a deep love and admiration for her Velaryon way of being, making him fall hard for his aunt, unaware his feelings are mutual. But how will their relationship be shaken when her father tries to claim himself as the true heir of Driftmark? — requested? : yes, by my beloved @faces-ofvenus. Happy birthday precious, hope you have an amazing day, and you enjoy your reading! 🥺🥳💐 — word count : 5.4k

— pairing : lucerys velaryon x velaryon! aunt! reader — genre : fluff.

TW │ mentions of incest content (aunt-nephew mutual crushing), and some minor cursing.

ೃ⁀➷ Read Chapter One ೃ⁀➷ Read Chapter Two ೃ⁀➷ Read Chapter Three ೃ⁀➷ Read Chapter Fourೃ⁀➷ Read Chapter Five

The gentle ocean waves softly crashed against the rocks of the Dragonstone Castle, creating a soothing splashing sound in the atmosphere everytime it clashed against the stones.

As Rhaenyra stood outside the castle, she watched the boat you were sailing in with a small troop slowly approach from the light mist, appearing to near sight in a leisure way, causing her lips to curve into a warm, gentle smile. The Velaryon sigil and symbolism sewed in the black flags that flew along the cool breeze of the wind were properly seen the closer it got to Dragonstone. From the full end of the sailingboat, your figure appeared, covering slightly your face from the vivid rays of the sun with the back of your hand, immediatly spotting the Targaryen Princess, who had been the wife of your late close cousin Laenor, and greeting her with a mere hand wave, accompanied of a rapturous toothy-grin forming upon your lips. Noticing this, the platinum-haired woman waved back joyfully, awaiting patiently for your arrival after nearly one and a half year of not seeing each other, with both her hands tightly clasped and resting in front of her body.

Once the ship moored at a dock near the grand castle — and rather quickly — you waved goodbye to the small troop that had taken you to Dragonstone with a gentle grin on the corner of your lips, and immediatly rushed to Rhaenyra, who was the mother of your late cousin's three sons. Despite the legitimacy of their blood being often questioned, you constantly defended your most beloved nephews to no end. And even though by blood the boys and you were meant to be second cousins, from early childhood the three boys always thought of you as their aunt... and it remained that way.

“My sweet (y/n),” with her arms wide open, she calmly greeted, as you embraced her by wrapping your own arms around her body, and without hesitation, she immediatly returned it. “My dear Rhaenyra.” you greeted back, slowly rocking your bodies to the side as you embraced each other lovingly. A warm sense of comfort and familiarity washed over you after what felt an eternity of not seeing each other, you swore you could feel your cheeks beginning to hurt from how broadly you smiled. Slowly, both of you began to pull apart from each other, and looked deep into your eyes.

“Welcome back to Dragonstone, (y/n).” her hand was placed on your back as the two of you began walking side by side, the Princess guiding you inside the unfamiliar castle. It was a quite a grand castle with large mesmerising dragon statues all over it's outsides, and one whom gracefully shone with the blazing sunrays of the forming twilight. “You must be tired from such a long journey, I pressume?” she inquired with a gentle smile tilting her head very slightly to her side, her lilac eyes staring into your (e/c) ones as your hairs flew smoothly along the wind. Snapping from your own trance of thoughts upon hearing your voice, you shrugged. “It was a long journey indeed, but I don't think I'll ever get tired from navigating across the ocean waves.” you retorted with a smug grin, causing her to chuckle quietly. Before she could reply or speak anything else, you continued; “And how are my nephews?” you asked, genuinely curious. It had been quite a long time since you had last seen them. You had no doubt, they must've grown quite rapidly since the last time you were all together.

Of course, you loved the three Velaryon boys equally, and you were the most overprotective relative of them. However, a notorious tension between your secondborn nephew, Lucerys, and you were felt whenever you were together in the same room. It had always been felt. His hazel eyes would nevear leave yours, or would give you side looks, in any family conversation Lucerys always found a way to bring the topic of you into it. There was a small sensation of a growing passion for you, though he denied it even to himself, and passed it as a mere "admiration for his aunt" for being a true Velaryon who wasn't afraid of navigating, knew exactly how to avoid seasickness, and you had an extraordinarily sense of freedom that he so wished to have himself.

But over the course of time, whenever his heart fluttered at your loving smiles when you caught him eyeing you, he knew admiration wasn't the only thing he felt for you. It was something else. Everyone could see it... Rhaenyra could see it very clearly. At the very beginning, she simply passed it as her son favouring a relative, but as she looked closely to your interactions, she realised the certain way you shared looks — and there, she began suspecting regarding her son's feelings towards you. Your shared feelings, as you always stared right back at him intensely.

“They've missed you, a lot.” she replied, a tiny smile remaining on her lips as both of you entered the grand castle together, after having walked quite some steps. If you were already amused by the outside of the castle, you were even more mesmerised by the insides of the castle; it was mostly full of Targaryen symbolism, dragon statues, and dragon heads carved on it's walls. Your eyes scanned the entirety of the castle, following Rhaenyra a bit mindlessly. “The boys are training at the moment.” Rhaenyra spoke, causing you to dart your eyes towards her, “Come with me, my dear.” she gestured for you to follow her. You did as she said, and rapidly followed her before you could get any more lost at the slight unfamiliarity.

As the two of you walked across the large, grey-ish corridors, some passing maidens and servants respectfully bowed and greeted her. The halls seemed never ending from how large and continous they were, though, they were a true sight to admire and behold. While you walked, she gave you a small "tour" around the castle, explaining how the halls were connected, the rooms, and showed you briefly the other places around so you could get familiarised, and guide yourself around the castle. After walking and passing through many large halls, you reached another grand door that lead to the outside, allowing you to explore the rocky island a bit more, and it contained a downhill path that allowed you to admire the view of the waving ocean.

“I'm certain the boys will be thrilled to see their aunt after a long time, my dear.” as she guided you towards the downhill path, she spoke. The refreshing scent of the sea flew along the breeze, your hairs and the dark cape you used when navigating flowed rather smoothly as you walked side by side. A grin appeared on your lips, your fluttering heart thumped against your chest warmly, and strangely enough, you felt... nervous, in a way, of meeting with them once again. Especially, meeting with your favourite nephew.

“As I am thrilled to see them.” you retorted, briefly gazing into her eyes and grinning, while you continued to walk.

The path was slightly long and silent, but enjoyable, and you reached quickly a small beachside that stood outside Dragonstone, allowing a perfect view of the grand ocean; some passing sailingboats were seen at a distance, and raven cawing was heard in the background. The ocean waves continously clashed against the rocks smoothly, bringing you a comforting sensation of being close to home. And as you analysed your surroundings while you stepped into the sand, the sound of continously clashing swords was heard faintly, causing your eyes to dart towards where the sound came from; encountering yourself with Jacaerys and Lucerys both sword training together, as a maester stared and guided them on their movements, and hits.

“They've grown up quite rapidly, have they not?” Rhaenyra's soft voice was heard, as she stood by your side while both of you watched the boys training with the swords, which vividly shone and glinted under the striking sun whenever one of the Velaryon boys swinged the swords. Your eyes focused on Lucerys, whose movements when swinging his sword were slightly weak and trembling, stumbling a bit everytime his brother's blade hit his own. His attention shifted from his brother, to you when he spotted both his mother and you staring at them from the corner of his eyes. The following movements were made without the properly required attention for a responsability such as swordtraining, his focus shifting from his brother to you continously.

Rhaenyra kept speaking to you about certain things you quite couldn't hear, as her voice faded in the background — leaving you focused solely on his hazel eyes, as your heart fluttered intensely, and you gave him a warm smile; an increasingly scarlet glint on your cheeks was seen, much like his.

In one of those sudden lack of attention moments Lucerys was having once he finally spotted you, Jace swiftly and vigorously hit Luke's sword with his own, rapidly tossing it aside to sand, causing Lucerys to, with eyes widen, shift his attention on the training with his brother, and accidentally stumble upon a small rock behind of him, falling on his back to the sand, and releasing a small defeated huff as he covered his face with his arm, as to protect himself from the dazzling sun.

“Be more careful with your brother, Jacaerys.” from a faint distance, you heard the maester lightly scold Jace, as the eldest Velaryon nodded in agreement, and leaned down closer to his brother. Luke stared attentively as Jace scolded him for being distracted, but his eyes rapidly shifted back to yours as his lips turned into an thin, straight line as his cheeks grew an even darker shade of scarlet from embarrassment upon seeing a playful grin quivering on your lips at the moment.

“Are you even listening to me, Luke?” Jace's slightly stern yet calm voice tone was heard scolding his brother. Noticing his younger brother's strange lack of focus, Jace abruptly stopped talking and explaining to his brother how to position himself for swordfighting, and turned around to where Luke was staring at: which was, you. Of course, a broad smile formed on his lip at the sight of his favourite aunt that he hadn't seen for sometime, and greeted you by waving which you immediatly returned, but with an understanding expression on his face, he turned to his brother whom still laid on the sand, and helped him stand up by taking a firm grip of his hand, and raising him from the ground.

“You can't be a bit less obvious, can you?” Jace muttered lowly only for his brother to hear as Luke swooped away the remaining grains of sand on his clothing, and his lips remained straight, accompanied by the intense fluster. Jace knew about his brother's feelings for you, he could see the way he stared at each other... anyone whom paid close attention to both of you could, in fact, realise that your affection was mutual — but he knew his brother would've to be a little more discreet with the way he felt for you. Plus, he had warned him several times already about the way none of you could take your eyes off each other, on other occasions when you visited the entire family.

“So? What do you think about that idea, (y/n)?” Rhaenyra's voice snapped you from your attention, which was fixed on Luke going back to train with his brother as his maester explained something to them that you couldn't quite catch — and you realised, you had listened to nothing of what Rhaenyra was talking to you. In fact, you didn't even know about what you were supposed to think about what she was talking!

“I, uh– What? I mean, yes, uh—” as you tried to recompose your thoughts, you stumbled upon your words briefly. “Yes, I erm, think that idea is perfect.” you retorted not even knowing what you were agreeing to, trying to keep a polite smile as you looked at her, whom returned you the kind smile. “Excellent.” she said, as she placed a hand on your shoulder comfortingly. “And, how long are you planning on staying, my dear?” she inquired, slightly tilting her head to her side curiously. “Well, if it's not much trouble, I was wondering if I could stay with you for a full moon? I missed my family.” you replied, fidgeting lightly with your fingers — she nodded warmly, agreeing.

“Of course, make yourself at home.” Rhaenyra replied, a kind grin remaining on her lips. “Come, I will show you the chambers our maidens have prepared for you, my dear.” both of you turned around, and started making your way back inside the Dragonstone castle as she guided you, but not before briefly turning around and giving one last look at the boys, making a last eye contact with Luke. Noticing the sweet, gentle smile curving on your lips, he quickly returned it before going back to swordtraining with his brother.

Both boys wished to leave away their duties and greet their aunt after such a long time, but it wasn't the time to do so, yet. They would after finishing all their responsabilities, unfortunately.

🐉🏰🐉🏰🐉🏰🐉🏰🐉🏰🐉🏰🐉🏰

Dusk took over the previous twilight, making the sun rapidly disappear from sight, leaving place for the moon and the bright stars to appear in the sky.

After a long day of being shown around the castle, exploring it by yourself, and trying to set your things in the guest chamber Rhaenyra had maidens to prepare for you, you decided to step off outside for a while, leisurely walking towards the previous downhill path that descended towards the small beachside where the boys had been training. It was a nice way of spending time while you waited for the maidens to finish preparing and serving dinner.

The breeze of the night was calming, and enjoyable – a small, satisfied sigh escaped your lips as your eyes fixed on the moving ocean waves that had reflections of the bright moon. The sea was always your provider of comfort, it felt true to your nature. As you fluttered your eyes shut and softly inhaled, taking in the fresh scent of the sea and the cool breeze while being immersed in your own thoughts, a familiar, soft voice spoke from behind of you.

“Aunt?” upon hearing the voice, you opened your eyes quickly, and swiftly moved your head to turn around at the voice, finding yourself with Lucerys awkwardly staring at you; his hands clasped behind his back. You greeted him with a single nod, and an intensely growing smile on your lips. “Lucerys, dear nephew.” you replied, as the young prince shyly started walking towards you, noticing the scarlet glint on his cheeks at being near your presence. As he leisurely approached you, you opened your arms widely, signaling for him to feel free to embrace you, which he immediatly caught, and rapidly wrapped his arms around your body tightly.

His head fell to the crook of your neck, taking in your sweet scent, and you returned his tight embrace as your hands gently rubbed his back. “Missed me, I see?” you teased lightly with a small grin on your lips, looking down at the princeling, whom nodded in response. “I have. I was wondering when we would see each other again.” he replied, his voice sounding a bit muffled as his head remained tightly pressed against your neck. “I should've, at least, sent a raven – I apologise for not contacting you, sweet boy.” as your voice was tender, your fingers crept around his curls, and leisurely played with them by twirling his curls around your index fingers.

“I... I was simply overwhelmed with lots of paperwork and duties, love.” you continued, “But there wasn't a single second where I wasn't thinking about you, and your family.” slowly pulling away from the hug, you cupped his warm cheeks, making him stare deeply into your eyes with his big puppy ones. His lips had a shy smile as you reassured him; your hand softly moved some fangs of curls that very slightly covered his face, as his hazel eyes admiringly stared at you. “I have indeed missed you.” he mumbled, not taking his eyes off of yours. “How long will you be staying with us?”

“Your mother and I agreed that I'll be staying a full moon.” upon hearing your answer, a glint of excitement appeared on his eyes, followed by a broad smile. Your hands descend from cupping his cheeks, to taking hold of his hands. “Come, let us go for a walk, shall we?” nodding, he allowed you to take hold of his hand very tenderly, and both of you walked side by side around the beachside, occasionally admiring the ocean waves which shone under the glints of the moon. Unfortunately for him, you shyly let go of his hand, now grasping each other as you walked close to your bodies.

Amongst the sounds of the clashing waves against the rocks, there was an awkward silence between both of you. None of you knew where you were exactly walking to, you were just... enjoying each other's presence, and the quiet stillness of the night along with it's cool windy breeze. A sigh escaped your lips, and you turned your head to your side where Lucerys walked next to you, and you briefly caught him staring at you, making you release a breathless chuckle.

“You have grown since I last saw you, Luke.” you spoke in a low tone, kindly smiling at him. His eyes hesitated briefly to look at you as he stared down at the sand while strolling together, but eventually, he built up the courage to dart his gaze at you, trying to contain his excitement yet nervousness. “Thank you, aunt.” Luke awkwardly murmured, as his lips quivered into a shy smile for you. After that, silence overtook between both of you, as you kept walking side by side. It was hard for Lucerys to talk to you; not because he didn't want to, but merely because he thought extremely highly of you, and didn't want to accidentally say something you might possibly find stupid.

“Aunt, are you not tired from such a long journey?” after fighting with himself internally whether to speak or not, he managed to talk without his voice breaking, or slowly dying of nervousness. You softly chuckled, and looked at him, shaking your head. “The sea is my home. I have gotten used to navigate through the sea waves without growing tired, or sick.” his eyes admiringly stared at you as you spoke. You were a true Velaryon, and he wished he could be more like you were. Bold, you weren't afraid of navigating through the sea and you had an incredibly admirable knowledge about all things related to sailing. Sometimes... he couldn't help but find himself thinking that, perhaps, you should be the true heir of Driftmark.

He lightly scoffed, but to himself. “I wish I were more like you.” he mumbled, shaking his head. You furrowed your eyebrows confusedly, tilting your head to your side. “I'm not so... perfect, like you are.” upon hearing his self-despiting words, you furrowed your eyebrows. Before you could object against his statement, he continued. “I always become greensick when I get into a boat. I can barely tolerate sailing through the sea. I–” Lucerys interrupted himself, his eyes shyly gazed at the sand. “I shouldn't be the heir of Driftmark. You should be the true heir, not me!” his voice tone was slightly raised, as he managed to finally look up into your eyes. Your lips were formed in a thin line, as you shook your head. “No, no– Lucerys, listen to me.” some slurred words escaped your lips as you tried to rearrange your thoughts. It wasn't that you didn't know what to tell him, you knew exactly what to respond to his rambling against himself, but you just had too many good things to say about him that you didn't know where to start, continue, and end.

Both your hands were placed firmly on his shoulders. “My dear, I am far from perfect.” you begun, as a warm crimson glint formed on his cheeks at your intense, passionate gaze, feeling the grip your hands had on his shoulders. “You are perfect just the way you are. I was your age once, and much like you, I doubted myself as well. But, as I grew up, I fed myself with knowledge about the sea, navigation, about our House and it's legacy, I was taught such things by my own maesters...” as you continued speaking, your voice was stern; but only because you couldn't tolerate hearing him speak in such way about himself. “It takes time, but you will learn with the passing of time. You can't expect to have all the knowledge you need to have as the future Lord of Driftmark in the blink of an eye, you will be leisurely taught everything you need to know as you grow up, Lucerys. Don't rush yourself.” his head awkwardly nodded at you, understanding every single word you meant. Giving it a more insightful though, perhaps, you were right. You had more experience than he had, and Lucerys could see that you were clearly speaking from that said experience. “You will be an excellent Lord of Driftmark, I know.” you reassured, even if he still wasn't so convinced about it.

“And you know why I know you'll be an excellent future Lord of Driftmark?” your voice asked with a playful tone on it. His eyebrows lightly furrowed with curiousity, tilting his head to one side awaiting for your response. “Because I will be the one teaching you all about the sea, and our legacy of navigation.” with a quivering, excited smile growing on your lips, you responded quite pridefully at your own question. “You might have maesters to be taught High Valyrian, history, and other things... but I will personally ask your mother to be your own maester of the sea, navigation, and I will teach you the ways I used to avoid seasickness. What do you think, Luke?” With every passing second you spoke, his straight shaped lips began turning into a broad smile, accompanied with an even increasing reddish fluster, and his heart began fluttering quite rapidly at the thought of having the luck of spending more time with you, and having you as his teacher. Lucerys had to thank the Seven for giving him such joyful opportunity.

A warm chuckle outbursted from his lips at your light teasing, making you mimick his reaction as well. “Well, then I suppose it is only fair I get to teach you about dragons, if you will be my own maester.” Lucerys joked, trying to ease his excited nerves at the idea of getting to spend more time with his aunt, and hidden crush. You nodded, rather eager at his statement, broadly grinning. “Of course, sweet boy. We have a deal, but only if you promise me to trust more about your skills.” pinching his cheek lightly, you tilted your head to your side, awaiting for his response, your hand ascending to gently hold his chin with your fingers.

You noticed he was always shy and a bit awkward around you, and you found that very adorable. Sometimes he could only manage to stare at you rather than approach you to talk, but when he did have the courage to talk to you for a bit, you appreciated it.

In response, he rapidly nodded. “Very well, aunt. I will. We have a deal.” Lucerys mumbled a bit quietly, and you proudly smiled at him. “Good. And I will be waiting for those lessons with dragons, sweet boy.” you joked, placing a long kiss on his forehead... which, of course, he completely gave into the feeling of your lips giving him kisses, making his eyes shine with an excited glint. As you pulled away, and before you could say anything else, an idea appeared on his mind nearly like a recently lit up bulb. “It's been quite some while since you last saw Arrax, has it not?” he inquired.

For him, it was the greatest idea — he would try and impress you by taking you to visit Arrax upclose on his dragonpit since you never had the chance to pet the pearly-coloured dragon, and not only that, but you were willing to be taught by him all things regarding dragons and you'd teach him about the sea! Meaning, you'd get to spend more time the entire full moon you'd be staying. In the meantime, he'd think of a plan to convice his mother — and you — on allowing you to stay for a longer period of time; though he knew his mother would say yes in a heartbeat.

At his question, you lifted an eyebrow and nodded. “Yes, correct? I have seen him last time I was here, and only got to see a slight bit of him flying in the skies.” you responded, curiously awaiting to hear what he had to say, even if you already sensed slightly why he was asking you that. His warm, delicate hands took hold of yours, and began dragging you by taking hold of them. “Then, allow me to welcome you back by taking you to visit Arrax up close, aunt.” you giggled quietly with a certain joyful anxiety on your tone, as he dragged you to the dragonpit. “As long as he doesn't bite or burns me to ashes, I accept your offer.”

It was true, though. As used as you were to seeing dragons thanks to your own House's relationship to House Targaryen, you never had a personal close contact with a dragon. Even if you didn't admit outloud that you were slightly nervous, Luke could notice it right away in your facial expressions, and of course, your concerned voice tone, even if you joked around to hide the anxiety.

“Dragons can sense their riders emotions. Whatever you feel, they will feel it as well.” as Lucerys guided you towards the dragonpit, his grip on your hand remained, but was softer now. As it was dark, none of you could notice the light blushing on your cheeks from the contact. “Oh, can they?” you lifted an eyebrow as you queried. You knew you were definitely going to enjoy having him teach you about dragons. He nodded in response. “Yes. Arrax will surely sense that you are of no threat, as we... both have a special aunt-nephew relationship.” he reassured, and you nodded, your smile growing broader, along with your fluster.

“Yes, we do, Luke.” you mumbled as you were guided by him through the moonlit beachside. “If you say I won't get burnt to ashes by your dragon, I trust your word, then.” you joked, a small chuckle escaping your lips.

Pushing aside the naturally nervous feelings that the thought of meeting a dragon up close provoked you, you couldn't deny that you were excited. Not only excited for simply meeting a dragon closer, but to know that throughout the entirety of your stay in Dragonstone will include teaching each other about your own personal knowledge, and spending time together... as you had always desired.

🐉🌊🐉🌊🐉🌊🐉🌊🐉🌊🐉🌊🐉🌊

The path from the beachside to Arrax's dragonpit was a rather quick walk — quicker than you would've originally thought.

As both of you approached the large, obscure dragonpit, your eyes scanned the pit with amusement, briefly stopping at the entrance only to admire the rocky structure. Then, with a mix of nervousness and excitement, you followed Lucerys inside the pit. It was cold and dark, but nothing that could bother you too much; it was rather impressive for you, as you had never entered a dragonpit before.

“Rytsas, Arrax.” your eyes darted towards Luke, as you heard him speaking in High Valyrian. A long, fiery huff was both heard and felt, as from the shadows a grand pearly coloured dragon approached the two of you. The dragon's large, amber eyes stared at you curiously, leaning closer to you as to inspect you. Your body stiffened upon feeling the dragon's hot breath against your body, as he carefully observed you. Lucerys, whom stood by your side staring at the interaction with a proud smile, playfully released a chuckle.

Shyly, you raised your hand in front of the dragon, expecting him to smell it, and so he did. Arrax smelt your hand, and quickly licked it as if it were a puppy — immediatly calming your nerves at seeing that the dragon approved of you. A long, satisfied sigh escaped your lips, as you grinned, and turned to look at the Velaryon boy.

“See? I told you he'd like you.” as the dragon kept licking your tongue playfully and huffing joyfully at your presence, Luke spoke with a proud expression on his face. You giggled, and looked back at him. Of course he was right; Arrax would like you, as much as Lucerys liked you. Dragons can feel their riders emotions and feelings, after all, so his dragon's reaction was of no surprise at all for him. His hazel eyes would not leave your overjoyed expression as you turned back to stare at Arrax and coo at him, intensely staring at you admiringly, causing his heart to flutter quite rapidly.

“Ziry iksos olvie gevie, nyke gīmigon (she's quite beautiful, I know).” as he approached Arrax a bit closer, he started tenderly petting his scales, while he spoke something in Valyrian that you quite couldn't catch... and he was grateful that you didn't understood. His eyes wandered a bit at Arrax while he licked your hand and face, and then he turned to look at you, slightly tilting his head to his side. “Why don't you pet his scales a bit? He will enjoy it.” your eyes widened, and you hesitated a bit at his statement. But seeing that the dragon apparently approved of you, perhaps you could pet it like the green-eyed boy suggested.

The hand that Arrax previously licked went to pet the scales near his nostrils very carefully, trying to get used at the raspy texture under your fingertips. Your eyes glinted with amusement at the newly felt sensation as you petted the dragon, whom clearly enjoyed your touch.

“Ah, I would've never imagined such grand beasts would act like puppies when petted.” you joked lightly, causing Luke to chuckle, while your eyes never left Arrax. “I like him, he's cute.” your eyes darted towards his now, smiling shyly, as your fingertips kept caressing the dragon tenderly. A broad smile curved on his lips as well, a crimson shade appearing on his face. “Then, we could come visit him more often. I'm certain he will be thrilled to have you as a frequent visitor, aunt.” upon hearing his words, your eyes seemed to shine with an even brighter spark of joy, as you lifted your eyebrows excitedly. “Oh! Really? I'd be honoured, then.” it was a bit hard to contain your excitement, as it was notorious by your voice tone, and your facial expressions as you spoke. All your previous feelings of nerves were fully gone, luckily.

Before any of you could respond anything else, you briefly turned around to look outside the dragonpit, and you sighed. “I think we should get going back inside the castle, sweetling. Otherwise we'll be late for the dinner your mother organised, and she'll scold us.” you teased, turning around your head to look back at him as you spoke, as he nodded in agreement with a wide grin at your joking, and gave one final pat to Arrax's scales. “Besides, I have plans for us in the morrow.” as Lucerys gave Arrax his own goodbye and left the beast to rest once again, his eyes curiously looked at you.

“We will sail together in the morrow, and I will teach you everything you need to know when navigating.” as both of you began leaving the dragonpit as to make your way back inside the grand castle, his eyes looked at you excitedly. Words felt stuck on his throat at the thought of both of you spending more time together by yourselves, making his heart loudly thump against his chest nervously, but keen for the moments yet to come — and all he could do, was mindlessly nod as he followed you back inside from behind like a lost puppy; his cheeks fully reddened.

It was going to be an intense full moon during your stay, but a joyful one that would make him the happiest, as he gets to spend it with you.

♡ taglist : ♡

@jjamieberry @anemicroyalcore @countsmoon @tickle-euphoria @beeebo234 @manuholland6 @capellaadara

[strangerstilinski]

smoke me out

𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: you and eddie are friends — and really, what's a little shotgunning amongst friends? [ 7.4k ]

𝗰𝘄: friends to lovers, dubcon bc they're high, reader with a vagina & breasts, drug use (weed), smoking & shotgunning, pathetic attempts at dirty talk, unprotected sex, cream pie, and goofy eddie (always)

𝗮/𝗻: the stoner in me came out at the beginning, ngl. this is just a horny culmination of my need to shotgun with eddie and also to rub his sweaty body with my own. and yes, that one part is inspired by the gifs of the hoard scene featuring joe's tight little ass grinding away.

𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝟏𝟖+ 𝙚𝙙𝙙𝙞𝙚 𝙢𝙪𝙣𝙨𝙤𝙣 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

It's just you and Eddie today.

You're propped up against the headboard side by side, a nest of pillows providing you both with a cushion from the uncomfortable framework behind your bed. The muted sound of James Hetfield's voice floating through your stereo speakers over a heavy clash of drums and guitar has your head bobbing in time with the beat. Eddie has long-since gone from shredding on air guitar to intently staring at the way his own ringed fingers bend toward his palm every time the pitch shifts incrementally, mentally contemplating the chord changes by ear. 

Despite the windows thrown open on either side of the room, your small apartment reeks of smoke and weed. The humid Indiana summer air filtering through the curtains is not nearly strong enough to properly air out the cramped space. It's one of those wonderfully warm days — peak summertime. Not overly hot, but enough to have your skin prickling with heat beneath a tank top and cotton shorts. 

Eddie is still lounging in a threadbare pair of checkered pajama pants and a cutoff tee, the top half of his hair tied back in a haphazard bun to lessen the weight of the thick curls sticking to his neck. 

Eddie is prone to complaining when it's hot. Or when it's cold. And also when it's rainy. Or windy. 

Point is, you're not sure why he's yet to complain about the lack of air conditioning in your apartment, but Eddie seems content as ever. It could have something to do with the little glass pipe the two of you have been passing back and forth all afternoon. The bowl on the end had been packed tight, more than enough weed to have both of you thoroughly stoned, well before it's even finished.

The ceiling fan is stirring up the faintest breeze. You've burned yourself thrice on a rogue, billowing flame while trying to light up. The circulating air keeps pushing an errant dark curl down over Eddie's face every time he dips his head to take a hit.. You've combed it back for him four times, already—God forbid he set his hair on fire. Again. You're not sure he's even noticed the way your hand lingers on that smooth strip of skin behind his ear just a little longer each time.

But you can't help it, not with the way everything's gone a little foggy at the edges. Your eyes seem to process your surroundings in near slow-motion, all while the world shines with a barely-perceptible gleam. The last twenty minutes the two of you have spent smoking have done wonders to soften the world around you. Your head is full of air in that familiarly pleasant way that leaves you feeling a bit like you might float away at any second. Like a balloon in the sky. And with the added bonus of Eddie by your side, you're entirely relaxed. Contented.  

Weak beneath the lazy weight of your high pressing in on you, you suddenly flop your weight down sideways across the bed, your head landing over Eddie's thighs. You blink slow up at him, hazy gaze focusing on the underside of Eddie's face while he brings his bony knees up from the mattress to cage you a little closer to his chest. The angle would be outrageous were you looking up at anyone else, you're sure, but Eddie..

He's so pretty.

All rogue-ish boy. Unkempt and wild, but still entirely beautiful.

You can't help the way your hand finds its way up, up, up. Your fingertips dancing across the barely-there five o'clock shadow on the edge of his jaw. You trace the hard line all the way from his chin to his ear, his stubble scratchy and wholly soothing when you lightly scrape your nails against the grain of it.

Eddie, on the other hand, has found himself entirely focused on the way gravity has moved your breasts in your new position below him. The awkward angle has carried them up and out, bra-less and soft and hypnotizing. They shift just a little every time your hand moves across his face. The tank top you've chosen to wear today is thin, indecently so, in his opinion. His brown eyes have been glued to the obvious outline of your nipples beneath the fabric since the moment you'd greeted him at the door, and his ogling has only gotten less subtle as his high settled in. He risks another longing glance down past your collar bones, reddened eyes dragging over the shape of your puffy nipples hidden underneath.

You're thumbing softly at the coarse hairs just under his chin when Eddie gives in to impulse and  purses his lips to blow a cool breath of air over your neck and chest. You can't help but giggle as your skin reacts, goosebumps spreading down your arms, and unbeknownst to you, your nipples tightening into semi-hard peaks beneath your top.

They're not the only things that are suddenly semi-hard. 

Eddie smacks his lips and swallows the drool that he's embarrassed to admit has pooled beneath his tongue. His ring-clad knuckles brush the side of your breast as he reaches to take the forgotten bowl from the blankets. 

He attempts to gather himself as he takes another hit. He holds it for a count of five and then exhales a cloud of smoke whilst urging himself to imagine something utterly repulsive.. His uncle in the shower, roadkill, the way his balls itch uncomfortably after he plays a gig at The Hideout in too-tight jeans — anything that might keep him from popping an unwanted boner while you've got your pretty, unassuming head resting in his lap.

Your fingers are now trailing lightly over the light freckles dotting the bridge of Eddie's nose. His skin is a little pink from yesterday's sun, despite the number of times you'd physically dragged him from Steve's pool to apply sunscreen to his steadily-reddening cheeks. The previous day outside has Eddie's barely-there freckles appearing far more visible than usual, speckled along the round tip of his nose, his cheeks, even the crinkles around his eyes. You think they make him look even more handsome, boyish perhaps, but handsome all the same.

Through the warm fog in your brain, you find yourself smiling up at him. A dopey grin on your face as you poke at the soft apples of his cheeks — Like he's your own personal plaything. Your heart ticks excitedly when the corner of Eddie's lips quirk up at you in response, his pupils blown wide, surrounded by a thin ring of molten chocolate. His teeth flash with his sweet little chuckle of amusement, cheeks dimpling beneath the sparsest area of his stubble.

“You've got freckles,” You comment quietly. “They're cute.” You smack your lips once, mouth dry with dehydration, “I like 'em.. 'nd your stubble, too. Feels nice.”

“Thanks, sweetheart,” Eddie chuckles, stoned and more than a bit flattered under the weight of your attention. His chest puffs up a little proudly, his words flowing without any real thought behind them, “Made it all myself.. 'S hard work.. But, uh, y'know. Someone's gotta do it.”

He slips his lighter between two of his fingers and holds the bowl off to the side so that he can drag the fingers of his free hand softly, delicately, over your hair where it's fanned out over his lap. He doesn't want to mess it up, especially doesn't want one of his rings to get caught and pull. But it looks so soft, and through the haze, he can't fight the impulse to simply.. touch. So gently. 

His attention seems intently focused on the careful motions of his fingers along your hair, and you take advantage of his distraction by finally allowing your gaze to drop to his mouth. Eddie keeps slowly rolling and biting his lips between his teeth. Canines dig into the flesh before he's scrunching his nose and pursing his lips, only to scrape his teeth over them again in a never-ending loop. You doubt he's even aware he's doing it but it's beginning to make his lips swell, the skin darkening to a brighter shade of pink from the abuse.

All at once, your trance is broken when his tongue pokes out to wet his smoke-dry lips. Your mind flashes suddenly with an idea. 

The absence of both the Hellfire crew and your other friends was truly a rarity. You hardly ever got to be alone with Eddie like this. You'd tried to ask him out once upon a time- No, not just once. Twice. Twice you'd asked him on a date — both of which had somehow ended in group excursions rather than romantic one-on-one time, how it had happened two separate times, you still weren't sure — and at this point you'd given up entirely. Because maybe it just wasn't meant to be. It was okay, really, you'd almost grown content in your longing. 

But, the way Eddie's lips shone lightly after his tongue stroked over them.. It had your brain reeling with possibility. If you were ever going to get his mouth on yours in private, even just for a fleeting moment, it didn't seem possible that an opportunity so seamless would ever present itself again.

It was worth a shot.

“I want another hit.” You tell him, licking at your own lips as brown eyes refocus on your face.

“M'kay, well, you're prob'ly gonna need to sit up for that, sweets,” Eddie points out, entirely unaware of the way your tummy always swoops when the thoughtless pet name falls from his lips. “Unless you were really lookin' t'get a face full'a ash.. In which case, you can definitely keep layin-” A burst of air leaves his nose with a laugh of surprise, repeating his own words to himself with a sweetly boyish giggle, “Sounds like ass. Face full'a ass. Now, that I'd like-”

Normally you'd join in on the joke. Poke a little fun at him for saying such a thing. Freak. You'd say it fondly, with an eye roll to go with it, maybe you'd throw in a half-serious offer involving his face and your backside- But you don't say any of those things. You can't. You're in the middle making the not-so-carefully crafted scene in your head a reality — And, can't he see that? Why is he trying to distract you? 

“Ash. Riiight, uh huh. Well,” You pause, feign innocence before your next words. “Maybe.. Maybe you could shotgun it to me n' that way I can stay right here?” You suggest cautiously, before adding as an afterthought, “If you want, I mean.” 

Any amusement is immediately stripped from Eddie's expression. He spends a few achingly long seconds blinking down at you with heavy eyelids, gaze hooded and distant. His weed-hazy brain takes a moment to actually process your words, but then, just as suddenly as he'd zoned out, he's nodding and bringing the glass pipe back up to his lips, one hand cupped around the end to shield the flame from the path of the ceiling fan.

The lighter clicks and swishes quietly as he lights up. He lowers the bowl after a long second, ringed hand dipping beneath your head and guiding you oh-so gently to arch your neck upward, until he can lean down and press his mouth down softly against yours. 

That first soft brush of his lips has your whole body thrumming. Butterflies begin a rampage in your stomach, so much so that you have to actively remind yourself to part your lips beneath his.

He presses down just a bit more, lips squishing solidly to your own parted ones and sending your heart racing dangerously, but then he's exhaling the smoke into your waiting mouth. You breathe it in as it comes, letting the warmth of it flow from his body and into your own.

He watches you intently as he moves to pull back and sit upright again. Watches the way you seal your mouth shut, lips rolling between your teeth while your lashes flutter against the apples of your cheeks. You allow the smoke to simply sit in your lungs for a long moment before relaxing your chest and exhaling through your nose, releasing the diluted cloud up into the air between you. 

Eddie blinks down at you with heavy lids. There's a long moment of silence between you. It's a palpable thing — not quite awkward or tense, but brimming with an unexpected energy that neither one of you can quite decipher. It's charged. Something like static electricity, or the tether between two magnets of an opposite charge. It nearly tingles in the breadth of space between you.

Eddie feels it. He wonders if you feel it too.

“D'you want another hit?” He asks after a minute, his voice scratchy.

You merely nod your head, not trusting your own voice, and the movement has you refocusing suddenly on the soft press of his calloused fingers where they linger against the nape of your neck. You watch with bated breath as Eddie brings the glass pipe in his hand back to his lips again, letting his gentle grip fall from the top of your spine for just a moment so that he can flick the flame of the lighter over the tiny pocket at the end of the pipe once again. 

Eddie drops the items in his hands to your bedside table carelessly once he's gotten a good lungful of smoke. He leans down in a faster movement this time than he had done before, his hand dipping back beneath your head in a flash to bring your mouths together again.

His lips are dry against your own, but so soft. You're not sure if it's the high or simply Eddie, but the barely-there scratch of stubble over his upper lip is delicious. It feels so good it makes you a little lightheaded. 

Your mouth slips open, inhaling as he exhales. You feel the warmth of the smoke entering your mouth, taste the bitterness of it on your tongue as the two of you fit together like puzzle pieces.

You're preparing to let your craned neck fall back to his lap, to close your lips in an effort to keep the smoke inside of your lungs — but then Eddie is tightening his grip on the back of your head incrementally, and instead of pulling back, he slots your lips together more firmly. Your heart skips in surprise and you can practically hear the blood pumping in your ears. Your brain seems to white out for a moment, unable to focus on anything that isn't Eddie's soft lips moving tentatively against your own. 

A thin cloud of smoke escapes into the air around you as your mouths begin to move together in synchrony. You can't hold back a soft gasp of surprise when Eddie's tongue swipes warmly across the seam of your lips. Your heart pounds, your mouth opening beneath his again without hesitation. 

The kiss that follows is a frenzied rush of lips and teeth and tongue. Hunger blossoms in the pit of your stomach. But it somehow manages to feel so languid, so sensual beneath the relaxed fogginess of your high. 

Your back arches, shoulders lifting from Eddie's thigh to meet him more than halfway. The movement prompts his hands to find your hips and Eddie is tugging you upright in a flash. Suddenly you're wedged between his legs, practically in his lap. Your knees curling around his waist as he leans farther into your space, chasing your warmth until barely any space exists between you. 

Your hands slide idly along his body in a slow trail. Each scrape against your palms feels divine. Every inch of him feels like silk under your fingers. The smooth, worn cotton of his tshirt. The tight ringlets of curls at the nape of his neck, a little damp with sweat. The soft give of warm muscle beneath your eager hands on his chest, his arms, his hips. You attempt to memorize every inch of him, your limbs seemingly moving of their own accord, touch-hungry and weightless all at once. 

He's so warm and- God, you want to be inside of him. You think you might want to bury yourself beneath his skin and make a home there. He smells like heaven, like sweat and weed and masculine body wash. Your fingertips drag leisurely along the length of his inked arms, inching slow back toward his neck like you have all the time in the world to explore every inch of his body. 

Your touch is scorching across his skin, overwhelming and seemingly everywhere at once but simultaneously not enough. It's like all of his wildest dreams have come to life, and Eddie can't fucking believe that this is happening. That you're practically in his lap, your tongue in his mouth, legs draped around his waist, hands tucked beneath the gaping sleeves of his muscle tee to roam freely and grope at the exposed skin of his hips.

Eddie's head cranes just a bit to the side in an attempt to deepen the kiss, licking his way deeper. His own arms curl around your waist, tightening at the curve of your spine to tug your body flush against his. The action has a needy noise pushing its way into his mouth as your tongues explore one another with warm, wet licks. He groans at a particularly slow curl of your tongue, he swears he feels it in his fucking balls. 

He's so turned on he thinks his dick might explode. Eddie changes your position in another quick movement, holding you flush to his chest before he's directing you to lie back against the mattress and slotting himself right there  between your thighs. 

Despite the way your head has gone a little fuzzy from lack of oxygen, you can't find it in yourself to pull away from him. All you can do is slide your hands from Eddie's shoulders and up into his hair. Tingles shoot from your fingertips as they slide into his frizzy curls, yanking some of them free from his bun just to feel the way they tangle around your fingers. A hot flush of arousal pulses in your cunt at the satisfied noise that Eddie lets out when you tug lightly, and that noise alone has you suddenly frantic. 

You can't get enough of him; his sounds, his taste, the press of his warm body between your thighs.  

The hand he isn't using to support himself against the mattress rubs along your waist of its own accord, his fingertips slipping beneath the hem of your shirt to brush featherlight over your skin. You swear sparks erupt in his wake. 

You pull back just enough to murmur his name desperately against his lips, but the syllables are barely out before you're licking into his mouth again with unbridled hunger. Eddie's groan meets your ears in response to your weak plea — what you're begging for, you're not quite sure, but then his hips drop against yours with a slow roll and that- 

Oh, that is exactly what you needed.

You can't help the soft whimper that falls into his mouth. The warm line of his half-hard cock pressing against your cunt through the thin barrier of your pajama bottoms has you dizzy. Eddie grinds hips against yours in another slow roll, clothed erection pressing soft into your cunt and prompting the seam on your shorts to nudge at your clit. You both groan in sync, parted lips barely brushing through the breathless sounds.

You also can't help the way you lift your hips in time with each grind of his length against you. The warm weight of his balls squishes against the fabric of your shorts every time his pelvis drags over your own. The thin cotton feels far too thick of a barrier currently between you and his cock. 

Ringed fingers sneak up a little farther beneath your shirt, his hand tightening over your naked breast, and you keen at the feeling. He alternates between brushing the calloused pad of his thumb over your nipple and covering the area with his palm to give it a soft squeeze. His lips fall slack against your own, too busy focussing on the way his fingers release and then grope again and again, the kind of distracted intrigue that could only be a result of his high.

A soft whine falls from your lips after a minute of putting up with his lazy fondling. You tug at the hair between your fingers again and nip encouragingly at his lips in a silent plea for a kiss. His mouth finally resumes moving against your own, and you gratefully allow him to direct the kiss. You give him full control of the pace, which turns out to be a give and take of desperate licks into your mouth followed by gentle caresses of his spit-slick lips against your own. Lips smack each time you part, tongues sliding together wetly, heaving breaths rush in and out of your noses as you both attempt to pull as much oxygen in as humanly possible in an effort to not break apart.  

Your fingers find the knob of his spine, and you tug on the collar at the back of his shirt in silent question. Eddie answers by pushing back up on his knees to yank the fabric over his head in a quick movement. His tattooed chest heaves with slightly labored breaths and you watch him with rapt attention, your eyes drawn to the tiny patch of hair nestled between his pecs and lightly dusted around his nipples. Then your focus drops to the thicker trail that leads down into the waistband of his pants. The pale skin beneath the hair glistens with sweat, and good God you want to taste it-

But you're only granted a few seconds to ogle his torso before Eddie is dipping back down to catch your lips with his, your mouths immediately separating just enough that he can strip you of your own top. 

As soon as your naked chest is exposed to him, Eddie is dragging his lips down your body in a slow trail. He pauses for a moment to kiss a spot just below your ear, his voice raspy when he speaks, “You good? This alright?” He checks quietly. 

You reach up to tangle a hand in his hair again, a breathless sigh leaving your lips as you feel the warmth of his mouth pressing against your neck, “Good, yeah. Very, very alright.” 

Eddie wastes no time, his lips trailing lower. He leaves a series of wet, open-mouthed kisses to your exposed breasts, relishing in the way you react to his mouth, the way your spine arches up from the mattress at the attention. 

“Jesus H. Christ. 's incredible,” Eddie mumbles, his words slurred against your chest as he bites and sucks at the skin on the side of your breast. His head has gone hazy with lust, his fingers slipping beneath your body to grab a desperate fistful of your ass, “Hand to God. I swear, I've never fuckin' seen more perfect-”

You interrupt the filth spewing from his mouth with an entirely unintentional moan, slightly overwhelmed by the influx of sensations. His praise in your ears. The feeling of his fingertips sinking into the plush of your ass. The prominent bulge in his bottoms dragging against you. 

Eddie curses under his breath, taking your nipple into his mouth and biting down softly before immediately soothing his tongue over it in apology.

Your brain is a little fuzzy. Sweetly faded and hazy at the edges, but somehow, each touch and sound between the two of you feels heightened — Magnified and all that more intense. As if your high has somehow managed to mute everything on earth except for Eddie. 

You release his hair in favor of sliding your hands down his back to grope the globes of his ass over his pajama bottoms while his hips continue to rock forward in a dizzying rhythm. A knead to the flesh there has Eddie whining sinfully against your tongue and your pussy fucking throbs in response.

"Baby," Eddie pants into your mouth, his voice nearly cracking with need, "Take 'em off, please- Baby? c'n we-?"

He doesn't finish the question but you nod, nose brushing against his as your hands slip underneath the waistband of his pants. Your fingers are very nearly trembling while you shove the fabric down below the curve of his ass. 

You feel the moment that his cock springs free and you immediately have to crane your neck down to take a peek — The urge to see him is too strong. And God is it a glorious sight. 

Flushed red at the tip and achingly hard— Jesus it's thick, gloriously thick. His pubes are dark and untamed around the base, hiding just how big he truly is. It's the most gorgeous cock you've ever fucking seen and it's bumping softly against the crotch of your shorts, wetting the fabric with smeared pre-cum that Eddie's fucking leaked over the head. He's wet with need, same as you, and the thought makes you feel fucking insane. 

Which means you ogle perhaps longer than you should. 

A needy grumble rises in Eddie's throat that has you snapping out of it suddenly and bringing a hand up into the narrow space between your faces. It takes a moment with the dryness of smoke lingering on your tongue, but you manage to gather enough spit to lick a wet stripe up your palm and fingers, and then you're reaching down to curl your fingers around him. 

Half-naked is practically Eddie's default state when he's stoned or drunk, you've drooled over just the outline of him in his underwear more times than you can count, but you're still somehow surprised by the sheer size of him in your hand. The weight of him. Long and curved just a little to the right — so silky and so soft under the slippery glide of your fist. You work your hand slow over him, rewarded with a beautiful little groan of thanks from the man above you, the sound of it guttural as you begin to jerk him with slick strokes. 

“Ohhh my god, that- that's, j-jesus-” His voice fucking cracks. 

Eddie's hips jump as he fucks into your fist. His eyes roll back, a little delirious just from the sight of your smaller hand wrapped around him. You switch from long strokes in favor of shorter ones where you can focus your attention on his tip, your thumb swiping back and forth over the head of his cock with each flick of your wrist. Eddie doesn't even recognize the sounds leaving his mouth. The combination of his high and the wet glide of your hand is too maddening to care. 

You make your own small noise of amazement that has Eddie coming back to himself suddenly. He yanks your shorts down your thighs with an impatient huff, pulling away from you just long enough to discard the last of both of your clothing before he's caging you back against the mattress once again. And then his lips are making their way to your neck, kissing and sucking lightly between these oh-so pretty little groans against your throat, his hips bucking restlessly into your own all the while. 

You give an eager cant of your hips, feet pressing into the mattress until the tip of Eddie's cock brushes the seam of your cunt. Eddie makes another sweet little noise of surprise that has you draping an arm around his neck, your face pressing into his shoulder as you repeat the movement with intention. 

You want him so bad your pussy fucking aches. 

“Ed, can we, please?” You whisper desperately into his skin. 

The question is barely out before he's nodding against your throat, bracing his knees and lining himself up with your hole. His hips push forward until just the tip of his cock presses into the wet heat of your cunt, but good lord-

He's so big. It feels a bit like he's splitting you right down the middle, but it's so good. He rocks his hips forward slowly, each little push stretching you wider than you thought possible. Every time you think he can't possibly have more to give you, he slips in a little deeper. He reaches so far inside of you that your eyes roll back, a long, drawn-out moan tearing past your lips at the slow stretch, the dull fullness behind your navel that you can nearly feel in your throat. 

“Oh, fuck.” You whine breathlessly, hands scrambling for purchase along his skin. Your nails bite into the sweat-slick muscles of his back before slipping lower still. You find the dimples at the base of his spine, nails raking over the pale white skin of his hips and ass. Your whole body goes lax underneath him as the wiry bush of his pubes finally meets your own. 

The noise Eddie releases into the curve of your shoulder borders on a whimper, his breath hot against your skin as he rocks his hips forward again and again. His weight pushes you deeper into the mattress, his cock grinding desperately against the absolute deepest parts of you. He gasps with each nudge of your cervix against the head of his cock, practically humping you through the haze of his high as he tries to give you time to adjust to his size. 

“Y'good?” Eddie pants into your neck, words slurred together with need. He feels half a second from fucking begging when your legs spread further, your thighs falling back toward the mattress and allowing him even deeper and holy fucking shit. “Ohh, c'n I move?” He’s all but whining now, “Please. God, please can I-” 

“Uh huh, 'm good, 'm good, I-” Your assurances cut off with a wail when he begins to pull back and drive in again with a sharp snap of his hips. Your fingers tighten where his hairy thighs meet his ass, nails biting into taut muscle in an attempt to ground yourself. “Ohmygod.” You whine, eyes glazing over with the heat that pools behind your navel with each thrust.

“Y'feel so good.” Eddie mumbles, slack mouth pressed to the sensitive spot below your ear. 

He pushes up on his elbows, but only enough that you can gape up at him with hooded eyes, brows furrowed with just how fucking good he feels. 

“Fuucck, y're pretty,” Eddie groans between deep thrusts, his words drawing a moan from your lips. He brings one hand to your cheek, thumb pushing into the plush cushion of your swollen lips before he's covering them with his own in a messy kiss, “Y're so hot. So. fucking. perfect.” 

His words are spoken quietly against your lips between thrusts, his nose squishing your own in close proximity, and you draw him back down to your mouth in a hungry kiss, teeth clashing. 

The pace Eddie has set is intoxicating, pulling nearly all the way out before slamming his hips forward to fill you up again with deep thrusts. Your moans are loud, wanton and uncontrollable under the haze of your high, only somewhat muffled by Eddie's mouth covering yours. 

In a frenzy, you find yourself kissing away the sweat beading on his upper lip. You lave your tongue softly over the light prickle of stubble at his cupid’s bow, but you're only granted a moment to relish in the scratch of it before Eddie is nosing at your cheek and urging you back into a scorching, albeit distracted, kiss. His fingers wrap around your upper thigh to hitch your leg a little higher on his hip, rocking his hips forward again and managing to hit impossibly deeper inside of you. He drives into that spongey spot behind your navel and you writhe-

“Oh-” You gasp into his mouth in surprise, head gone fuzzy as he continues fucking your at the new angle, “Eddie!  I, fuck-” 

He responds with a groan. His lips leave yours to forge a trail of biting kisses over your skin. He wants to kiss you everywhere. He wishes he could kiss every inch of your skin and still keep fucking you. You're weak to do anything but lie there and take it and it makes Eddie feel dizzy with power. Your arms curl around his shoulders again, head thrown back against the bed in ecstasy. 

Eddie's mouth is seemingly everywhere, lips sucking at the underside of your jaw, tongue leaving a wet trail over your collarbones and throat, teeth sinking into the curve of your shoulder. Each new sensation sends another spark of arousal down your spine, sends your brain farther into the clouds. 

It’s almost too much. It has you tightening your thighs around his hips and rolling sideways over the bed to switch positions, his cock slipping free as you find yourself straddling his waist with only a slight wobble from the momentum. Eddie makes a quiet noise of surprise and petulance, but it melts into a grateful, high-keening moan when you sink back down onto him. Your hips press flush to his as you set a new, slower rhythm of your own making. 

“Oh, Jesus,” Eddie whines in amazement, hands tracing over the curve of your waist and breasts as you rock back and forth onto him, “Shit. You look so good like this.” His praise comes out through heaving breaths.

You rest one hand supportively over the sparse hair at the center of his chest, the fingers of your other hand trailing up the skin of his arm until you can tangle your hands together against the mattress. You grind your hips down harder, deeper, and Eddie groans, his hips bucking up unconsciously to meet you halfway. 

Your forearms fall on either side of his head. Your weight pressing down against his chest has Eddie immediately fisting your ass and thighs in a bruising grip to help guide your movements. You lean down to bury your face in his neck as you slide back and forth along his length in a slow rhythm, your legs already aching with exertion even with the help of his strong arms.

The loud slapping of skin meeting skin every time the backs of your thighs meet his own rings loudly in your ears. Your staggered breathing falls against his lightly stubbled jaw, lips leaving distracted kisses in apology for the way your hot breath fans out against his already sweaty neck. 

“God, Eds,” You moan into his skin, sucking a mark against his throat while he uses his tight grip on your hips to fuck you down onto himself, “You feel. So f-fucking good-” 

You let out a yelp as Eddie twists your bodies again with a grunt, and suddenly his body above yours once more, his hand on your shoulder as he sinks back inside of you.

“Need it faster. Harder.” He pants, “That okay?” 

You nod, head rubbing against the mattress, “Yes. Please, yeah-” 

Eddie trails his fingers down the back of your thigh and guides you to wrap your legs around his waist, and then he’s fucking into you in quick, punishing thrusts. Your moans only increase in volume at the change of pace, your whole body seemingly flushed with heat. Your hands scrape desperately over Eddie's back as he pounds into you, nails cutting into pale skin. 

“Shit,” Eddie groans, his forehead dropping down against yours in an unexpectedly tender movement, though it does little to take away from the sound of your bedframe creaking, the wet squelch every time he drives back into you. “God, 're you close?” He asks desperately.

“Uh-huh.” You confirm immediately, brain hazy and muscles tensing with each hard thrust that brings you closer and closer to your peak. 

Eddie's nose rubs soft along your cheekbone as he nods, joining your mouths in a kiss that's more breath and tongue than anything else. You struggle to focus on moving your mouth against his as your orgasm begins to creep into the corners of your vision. Eddie's weight drops down onto one elbow to allow him the stability to reach in between you. His hand settles over your pelvis, his fingers swiping messy over your clit as his quick thrusts grow shakier. 

“C'mon, sweetheart,” Eddie murmurs against your lips, “C'mon, I really-” He's cut off by the groan that rumbles up his throat when you pulse around him, the sound entirely animalistic. “Goddd. N-need you t' fuckin' cum, baby, please.” 

His voice has gone husky with arousal and exertion, the sound has your eyes rolling back. It only takes a handful more thrusts like that, with the help of his fingertips tracing light circles over your clit. Your whole body tenses as your orgasm crashes over you, legs clamping around his hips. You whine brokenly in his mouth, a sharp gasp immediately following as you scrape your fingers down his shoulders, your whole body shaking as you come undone around him. 

The increased tightness of your muscles spurs on Eddie’s own orgasm within a few thrusts, and then he's following you over the edge. He buries his face in the curve of your neck as he cums with a whine, hips stuttering twice before burying deep. His weight crushes you to the mattress, your back arching at the warmth of his release filling you. Your eyes water with the strength of your orgasm, Eddie's hips unconsciously grinding into your own as he rides out his own, whimpering into your ear with the aftershocks. 

You both remain unmoving for a long minute, sweaty chests heaving as you struggle to catch your breath and come back to yourself. You card gently through Eddie's sweaty hair, his curls having long since broken free from the hair tie that had once held them back from his face. You fingers trail thoughtlessly through the damp tresses while Eddie's hot breath fans out over your neck. His dick twitches inside you when your fingertips scrape softly against his scalp and you struggle to bite back a quiet laugh of amusement. Your muscles tense even with the smothered laugh, and Eddie groans as your cunt pulses around him. 

He huffs when he catches the look on your face, entirely dramatic as he begins to roll away, but he only maintains that feigned annoyance for about half a second before he's cackling madly and dragging you into his chest. He nips sharply at your shoulder as he tugs you into his sweaty chest and buries his face in your hair, fingers beginning to trace soft shapes over the skin of your hip. 

“You feelin' okay?” He murmurs after a moment. 

“Yeah,” You confirm with a sigh, already relaxing into his touch. Your brain is pleasantly dulled from the combination of the lingering high and your orgasm. “Yeah, 'm great.” 

“Oh, same, yeah. Super great. I just, uh-” Eddie pauses and you find yourself focussing on the gentle caress of his fingers along your skin, “I wanted to check, y'know.. Make sure you weren't havin' any.. I dunno, just, regrets-”

You're readjusting in a flash so that you can look at him directly, your head settling onto his bicep as your eyes flick between his, “I don't. Regret it, I mean.” 

It feels much too serious of a conversation to be having considering how deliriously high you currently feel, the previous strenuous activity did little to clear your head, but you mean it with every fiber of your being. You've been hung up on Eddie for what feels like forever now, the thought of him outright regretting the events of the last hour- It has you feeling sick, stomach sinking and twisting and souring all at once.

Eddie's throat bobs as he swallows, “Just, I mean.. Y're real stoned and- Shit. I, fuck. I probably shouldn't've-”

“Eddie,” You cut him off, feeling desperate with the need to reassure him, “You smoked just as much as I did—probably more. I-I wanted this. I wanted it, like, really bad. Unless..” Your heart drops, “Do.. Do you regret-?”

“No!” Eddie disagrees immediately, and vehemently — With urgency to correct you. “No. No, sweetheart, I do not regret it. Could never regret you. I mean, that was- Shit, I've been wanting to do that since-”

Your hand finds the warmth of his chest, fingers scraping at the small tattoo there, “You have?” 

Eddie nods his head against the blankets, sweaty curls sticking up every which way around his head like a messy halo, “Yeah.” 

“Does that mean.. I mean, would you maybe wanna do it again sometime? But, like, when we're not high as all hell?” 

Eddie's dimpled grin has an embarrassingly wild burst of butterflies erupting inside of you, “Yeah. Yeah, I really do.”

You lay like that for a while, pressed together despite the heat. His fingers wander over your palms, tracing the lines there while you watch the way his rings shift. Your naked bodies separated only by a thin layer of sweat. The ceiling fan pushing light waves of blessedly cool air over your skin. 

After a few minutes Eddie suddenly tears himself out of your grip, and he does it so abruptly that your brain is hardly able to comprehend the loss of him. He lets out a quiet yelp of distress and nearly collapses face-first into the blankets in a mad scramble toward your legs. He manhandles you until you're sprawled on your back, pushing your thighs apart before flopping entirely ungracefully onto his belly in the narrow space he's made between them. 

As you push up onto your elbows to peer down at him, Eddie is simply stroking his fingers soft up and down the length of your cum-soaked folds. His eyes are alight with wonder while he watches his own spend begin to leak out. One of his thumbs catches it as it falls, and he pulls his hand back for just a moment to get a better look at the pearlescent mixture of your combined cum. 

“What're you doing?” You giggle after a long moment of simply watching him.

Eddie's head snaps up with such surprise it looks as if he might've forgotten you were even there, if such a thing were possible. 

“Just, uh.. Admiring my handiwork.” He grins like he's all-too pleased with himself, dimples poking into his cheeks. 

“It's our handiwork, actually,” You correct playfully, “Half of that's mine, and- No, wait. Actually, 's all mine now.” You tell him triumphantly.

His eyes narrow in confusion and you redirect your gaze pointedly. His attention follows your own, eyes flicking briefly toward his own hand, where the cum has begun to drip slow down his thumb toward the meat of his palm. 

“What, this?” He questions in amusement. 

“Yes that.” You tell him with a frown, “'s mine.” You have to bite back an honest-to-god cackle at the entirely contrived look of betrayal on his face. “Put it back.” You challenge. 

Eddie's eyes roll in irritation as he repeats your words mockingly, his voice thrown high in an exceptionally poor imitation of your own, but he does dutifully drop his hand down between your thighs again to attempt to push the cum back inside you. 

He looks pleased as punch once he's done. He looks at your cunt with a dopey grin on his face, cheeks still pink with exertion and hair wild. 

“Don't miss me too much, pretty. A'right? I'll be seein' you again real soon.” Eddie murmurs softly, eyes never once leaving your cunt. He punctates his words by pressing a gentle kiss to your mound, just a hair's breadth from your clit. 

And then that dumb, dazed smile takes over his face again. 

You squint down at him, “Was.. Were you talking to me or my-”

“Was talkin' to this pretty pussy.” Eddie says matter of factly, stroking his hand over the coarse hairs between your thighs in the way one might pet an animal. 

“Okay.” You manage, laughter preventing you from saying anything else. 

Eddie tugs a large chunk of loose curls across his face and lays his cheek to your upper thigh. He stays like that for a moment, hidden behind the curtain of his hair, big brown eyes blown about as wide as he can manage through his high.

 “..Do you still wanna fuck me?” 

He pouts. It's ridiculous. It's adorable.

You can't pretend to mull it over for more than a few seconds, your cheeks ache with the need to smile. He makes you so happy you feel borderline deranged. 

Your lips quirk up even as you sigh dramatically, “Regrettably? Yes.”  

He fucking cheers. 

He drums his hands enthusiastically against your thighs and yells so loud in victory that all you can do is laugh and cover your ears until he's finished. 

You don't regret it, not a goddamn bit.

[littlest-w01f]

Treasure

Sylus x Reader

SYLUS MASTERLIST

LADS MASTERLIST

Summary: You're his favourite treasure, he cherishes you above all else.

Cw: Dragon!Sylus, choking, Sylus being rough but also loving, dragons have 2 ds, size difference, double penetration, Smut 18+ MDNI, Fluffy end

A/N: Parasite won, Enjoy y'all <3

Sylus loomed over your form, his massive draconic body pinning your frame against the glittering mounds of gold coins he had collected over centuries. The metal was cold against your flushed skin as you lay splayed out beneath him, knees and palms digging in the gold, helpless and at his mercy. His long, sinuous tail coiled around your slender throat, not tight enough to choke but a clear reminder of who was in control.

Sylus leaned down, his hot breath washing over your face as he inhaled your scent. A low, rumbling growl emanated from his chest, vibrating through your body pressed so intimately against his. "Mmmm, I'm going to claim every inch of you, little treasure," He purred, voice dripping with dark promise. "I'll fill you up until you're overflowing with my essence. Then I'll keep you by my side forever."

You giggled at his words, the sting of gold beneath you not bothering you one bit, "Promise?" You smiled from ear to ear.

Sylus chuckled darkly, amused by your playful tone despite the precarious position you found yourself in. His forked tongue flicked out, tracing along the shell of your ear as he whispered huskily, "Oh yes, my sweet little kitten. And I always keep my promises... Especially when it comes to claiming what's mine."

His massive clawed hands began to roam your curves possessively, mapping out every dip and swell of your body. One hand cupped your breast, kneading the soft skin as his thumb brushed teasingly over your nipple through the thin fabric of your gown. The other slid down your stomach, coming to rest on your hip as he ground his hips against yours, letting you feel the growing heat of his arousal.

"I'm going to worship this body of yours," Sylus rumbled, his voice sending shivers down your spine. Sylus continued his sensual assault, his claws carefully shredding away the flimsy fabric of your gown until you were bare before him, laid out like an offering amidst the glittering hoard. He drank in the sight of your naked form, his crimson eyes burning with unbridled lust and possession.

"Exquisite," He purred, his long serpentine tongue unfurling to lap at the sensitive skin of your neck, tasting your quickening pulse. "Every curve, every hollow... I'm going to savor every inch of you."

Sylus' massive form loomed over your exposed body, his scales glinting in the dim light filtering into the dragon's lair. The heat radiating off his powerful frame enveloped you, a stark contrast to the cool coins beneath your back. His clawed fingers traced intricate patterns on your skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake as they mapped the swell of your breasts, the dip of your waist, the flare of your hips.

Leaning down, Sylus' long, dexterous tongue snaked out to taste the salt on your skin. It dragged slowly up the column of your throat, pausing to flick against your racing pulse point, to your back, over your spine. A deep, rumbling purr vibrated through his chest and into your body pinned beneath him.

"My precious treasure," He growled softly, hot breath ghosting over the shell of your ear. He used his tail to tip your head back, forcing your back to arch with his claws at the base of your spine.

Your wanton moans only spurred on Sylus' desire. His long, forked tongue delved between your parted lips, invading your mouth and tangling with your own tongue in a heated dance. The musky taste of the dragon filled your senses as he plundered your mouth thoroughly, staking his claim.

As Sylus' tongue dominated your mouth, his free hand drifted lower, fingers brushing against the slick folds of your cunt. A guttural groan rumbled in his chest at the evidence of your arousal, how wet you already were for him.

Breaking the kiss, Sylus gazed down at you with smouldering crimson eyes, his pupils dilated with primal hunger. "So eager, little treasure," He purred, voice thick with lust. "But we've barely begun." Sylus' voice was thick with approval and lust. "Your body knows who it belongs to. Who it craves."

"You..." You moaned loudly, the sound vibrating in the cave, "Sy-"

Sylus growled in satisfaction at your needy moan, the sound of your pleasure music to his ears. His clawed finger circled your clit teasingly, applying just enough pressure to make you squirm beneath him. "That's right, say my name," He commanded huskily, nipping at your earlobe. "Let all of my realm know who is claiming you, who is making you feel this good."

The dragon's other hand continued its exploration of your curves, palming your breast roughly. He pinched and rolled your nipple between his fingers, sending jolts of electricity straight to your core. Sylus's muscular tail tightened slightly around your throat again, not cutting off air but asserting his dominance, his control over your pleasure. "I'm going to fuck you so hard, so deep, with all of me."

Sylus's massive, ridged cocks sprang free from its sheath, the flared heads already weeping with precum. They throbbed heavily, the thick lengths pulsing with barely contained need as he positioned himself at your entrance. The heat radiating off his cocks was intense, one feverish against your slick cunt, the other tracing against your ass.

"Beg for it, for me," Sylus demanded, his voice a low, authoritative growl. The tip of his cocks nudged insistently at your openings, already stretched from how many times he had taken you, body still sensitive, not quite pushing inside yet. His clawed hands gripped your hips bruisingly tight, holding you in place as he loomed over you. "Tell me how badly you need to be claimed, to be filled by your dragon master. Let me hear those pretty pleas falling from your lips." The dragon's eyes blazed with feral hunger as he stared down at you, pupils dilated with lust.

Your mind reeled under the onslaught of sensations, overwhelmed by just the memory of the sheer size and heat of Sylus' body pressing against you. The rough grip on your hips, the insistent prodding at your entrances, the commanding growl in his voice, all combined to push you closer to the edge.

"Please- Oh please, Sylus!" You begged shamelessly, your eyes glazed over with desperate need as you stared at his magnificent dual, scaly cocks jutting out proudly from his sheath. "I need them so badly, I need you."

Your hips bucked up instinctively, trying to impale yourself on his impressive cocks, but Sylus' grip held you firmly in place. The drag of his cockheads against your soaked folds sent shockwaves of pleasure through your core. A smirk on his beautiful face as he watched you struggle and beg.

The dragon's triumphant roar echoed off the cavern walls as he surged forward, burying both thick, veiny cocks deep within your welcoming heat. Your cunt clenched tightly around the girth stretching it, while your ass squeezed in protest at the sudden intrusion.

"Fuck... Please! Claim me, ruin me for anyone else! I'm yours, all yours!" Your whines echoed wantonly through the cavern, bouncing off the glittering piles of gold surrounding your entwined forms as Sylus began to move, his cocks stuffing you so fully, tears sprang in your eyes, filled to the brim you could feel his cocks rub against each other by the skin that separated them.

"Aaahh, yes! Take it all, my perfect little treasure," Sylus snarled in ecstasy, relishing the vice-like grip of your walls around his cocks. He set a brutal pace immediately, pounding into you with the strength and endurance of a dragon. Each snap of his hips drove his cocks impossibly deeper, stirring up your insides and hitting places you never knew existed.

Sylus' massive form engulfed you as he leaned down, his wings wrapping around your entwined bodies like a leathery cocoon. His long, sinuous tongue invaded your mouth once more, swallowing your cries of ecstasy as he kissed you deeply, passionately. The dragon's claws raked down your sides, leaving faint red lines in their wake as he gripped you tighter, pulling you flush against his sweat-slicked scales.

Your entire world narrowed to the searing pleasure of being utterly consumed by Sylus' dual cocks. Every thrust, every drag of his cocks along your inner walls, sent sparks of electric bliss coursing through your veins. Your body clamped down greedily, milking him as if trying to draw out every last drop of his essence.

The sensation of his cocks rubbing together, separating your skin, was almost too much to bear. It added a new dimension of depraved delight to the brutal fucking, each collision of scaled flesh against tender tissue sending aftershocks rippling through your quivering form.

Sylus' powerful body moved above you with a fluid grace, despite his size, his muscles flexing and rippling beneath his scales. His wings wrapped protectively around you, shielding you from the rest of the world as he claimed you in the most primal way possible.

Breaking the kiss, Sylus nipped and sucked at your neck, determined to mark you as his. He wanted everyone to see the evidence of his claim, the proof of your belonging to him alone. His hips never faltered in their relentless rhythm, each powerful thrust shaking your entire body and driving you closer to the edge. "That's it, my little treasure."

Sylus' thrusts grew even more frenzied, his massive cocks pistoning in and out of you with animalistic abandon. The obscene sound of flesh slapping against flesh echoed through the cavern, mingling with your wanton moans and the dragon's guttural growls of pleasure.

His barbed ridges caught on your inner walls with each withdrawal, dragging deliciously against your sensitive nerves and prolonging your rapidly building climax. One clawed hand snaked between your writhing bodies to find your aching clit, rubbing the swollen nub in tight circles.

"That's it, cum for me," Sylus commanded, his voice a dark, seductive rumble. "Cum on me like the desperate little kitten you are. Show me how much you love being claimed, being used for my pleasure!"

Your body obeyed Sylus' command without hesitation, the coil of tension in your core snapping violently. A guttural scream tore from your throat as your orgasm crashed over you, wave after wave of mind-numbing ecstasy flooding your system. Your walls clamped down rhythmically on Sylus' pistoning cocks, rippling and fluttering as they tried to milk him for all he was worth.

As your release washed over you, Sylus roared in triumph, the sound echoing off the cavern walls. Your spasming walls felt incredible around his throbbing shafts, gripping him like a velvet vise. He continued to pound into you throughout your climax, extending your pleasure until you were nothing but a boneless, mewling mess beneath him.

With a final, brutal thrust, Sylus buried himself to the hilt inside your convulsing heat. His cocks pulsed and twitched as he reached his own peak, flooding your body with jets of scalding cum. The sheer volume of which was staggering.

Panting harshly, Sylus collapsed onto his side, still keeping you pinned beneath him. He peppered your face with gentle kisses, a stark contrast to his earlier roughness.

"Hmm…" You sighed softly as Sylus released every little drop of himself inside you, his scaly tail stroking your side. You bring him closer by his cheeks, into a deep kiss.

Sylus returned your kiss with fervour, his long-forked tongue twining sensually with yours. He poured all of his passion, his possession, into the intimate embrace. When he finally pulled back, his crimson eyes gleamed with satisfaction and tender affection.

"My perfect little mate," He rumbled softly, nuzzling into your neck. "You took me so well, so eagerly. I knew from the moment I saw you that you were meant to be mine."

The dragon's clawed hands began to explore your curves with reverent gentleness now, tracing the dips and swells of your body as if committing every inch to memory. His touch left tingles of pleasure in its wake, stoking the embers of desire that still smouldered within you despite your recent release.

After hours, he had rested you down in his bed, his precious treasure, the most precious thing he had ever taken. A part of him wanted to keep you locked away forever like the rest of his hoard, but you were too endearing for him to deny freedom. Such a fragile creature, yet strong enough to captivate a dragon's heart.

Sylus gazed down at your sleeping form, a rare softness in his ancient crimson eyes. The way the moonlight streaming through the cavern windows caressed your skin made you look ethereally beautiful, nothing less than a goddess. He couldn't resist trailing a single talon lightly along the curve of your cheek, marvelling at the silken smoothness.

At that moment, the dragon realized that no amount of gold or jewels could ever compare to the priceless treasure you represented. Not just the physical pleasure and companionship, but the warmth, the joy, the sense of connection he felt when he was with you, things he had been missing for centuries. A small, possessive growl rumbled in his chest as he gathered you closer, one wing draping protectively over your body.

Sylus remained awake long after you drifted off, watching the gentle rise and fall of your chest, the way your lashes fluttered against your cheeks in sleep. He marvelled at the trust you placed in him, the way you curled into his embrace so naturally as if you belonged there.

As dawn approached, the first rays of sunlight filtering into the cavern bathed your skin in a warm, golden glow. It seemed to highlight the delicate beauty of your features, the soft swell of your breasts rising with each breath. Sylus felt an unfamiliar ache in his chest, a tenderness that went beyond mere lust or possessiveness.

Unable to resist, he leaned down to press a feather-light kiss to your forehead, then your nose, before capturing your lips in a slow, sensual kiss. He savoured the taste of you, the feel of your soft lips moving against his.

Your eyes fluttered open at the kiss, "Is it morning already?" You whispered groggily.

Sylus chuckled, the deep rumble vibrating through his chest and sending pleasant shivers across your bare skin. "Almost," He murmured, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "But I didn't mean to disturb you. You looked so peaceful, so beautiful sleeping."

He tilted your chin up slightly, studying your drowsy expression with a mix of adoration and hunger. "I've grown accustomed to having you close, my sweet mate. The thought of waking up without you beside me... It doesn't sit well with me."

Slowly, deliberately, Sylus leaned in to capture your lips once more, this time with a depth of emotion that bordered on reverence. He poured all of his longing, his devotion, into the kiss, hoping to convey the magnitude of what you'd awakened in him.

Sylus broke the kiss only to trail his lips along your jawline, nipping gently at the tender skin. "Tell me you want to stay with me," He breathed against your ear, his hot breath sending delightful shivers down your spine. "Tell me you're already addicted to the feeling of my cock inside you, to the sound of my roar as I claim you."

His words were punctuated by teasing bites and licks, working their way down your neck to your collarbone. "Because I certainly am addicted to you, my precious treasure. Every curve, every scent, every moan that falls from your lips has me ensnared."

"Sylus..." You breathed softly, hand stroking down his cheek, the dragon scale that mixed with human-like skin. You pressed your palm flat against the glowing red gem that made up the centre of his chest, "I love you. And yes. I feel it. Everything."

At your declaration, Sylus' eyes widened, his pupils dilating with surprise and overwhelming emotion. For a moment, he simply stared at you, his breath catching in his throat. Then, with a low, rumbling growl, he claimed your mouth in a fierce, passionate kiss.

When he finally broke away, his gaze was intense, burning with a depth of feeling you'd never seen before. "My love, my heart, my everything," He rasped, his voice thick with unshed tears. "I never dreamed I could feel this way about another being. But from the moment I laid eyes on you, I knew you were special. Unique. Irreplaceable."

Sylus cupped your face in his massive hands, his thumbs brushing tenderly over your cheeks. "I love you, my y/n. With every fiber of my being, I adore you. And there is no love is purer than mine."

Emotions overwhelmed the dragon, causing him to crush you against his broad chest. His arms enveloped you like a living shield, securing you safely against his warmth. "I'm yours, completely," He vowed, his voice trembling with the force of his feelings. "Body, heart, soul. All of me belongs to you, now and forever."

As if to seal his promise, Sylus sealed his lips to yours once more. This time, the kiss was tender, almost chaste, yet still imbued with the depth of his love. He held you close, savoring the closeness, the unity, the perfect harmony of two souls entwined as one.

And in that moment, neither of you noticed nor cared for the first hints of daylight creeping further into the cavern, casting the space in a warm glow, the sound of the songbirds something distant.

[yanderenightmare]

Gojo Satoru & Geto Suguru

♡ TW: fear, prank, prank gone too far, dubcon-ish

♡ GN reader

“Haha, ‘Toru—nice try,” is all you say to the tall figure, having stood patiently in wait and perfectly positioned to do a jump scare with his silly store-bought Ghostface mask on.

You sigh and go back to your dealings, and he remains as if the gist isn’t up—ever-committed to the task as if you’re suddenly going to forget that it’s him. Like���of course, it’s him! Despite what the movies will have you believe, not a lot of guys have bodies like that.

If he was really committed to tricking you, he should have worn something baggier to hide his perfectly shredded chest. But no—he’s set on wearing his black muscle shirt—probably opting to make you both scared and horny at the same time.

You carry on with what you’d been doing—cleaning up the kitchen. “Oi, quit standing there already and come help me.”

He doesn’t. But that’s not unlike him—he’ll take any excuse not to do the dishes. And right now, the excuse is this dumb prank. But it’s your fault in any case—you’re the one that put him up to it by saying he’d never be able to get a rise out of you.

You sigh and scold yourself for being so short-sighted—should’ve kept my dumb mouth shut. Knowing him, he’s probably going to be this way all through October, the insufferable prick.

He still stands there. Silent. And still. Eerily unlike him. And almost, just almost, utterly unlike him.

But no—don’t be stupid! He’s the same height and the same build, for fuck’s sake! What are the odds of someone with the exact same measurements as your boyfriend breaking in right at the time he isn’t around in something so cliche and dumb as a Ghostface replica? No, it stinks of Satoru—it’s got his goofy antics written all over it.

You scoff again—a little winded this time, a little strained. You have to hand it to him—he is a little scary when he shuts up for this long.

“You can knock it off, Satoru. I know it’s you.” You face him again, hand on your hip, with a frown. 

You sigh again when he still doesn’t answer, insisting on his stupid tactic of psyching you out. And you’re getting pissed that it’s actually almost working.

“Ugh, you’re so stupid.” You start stomping over—aiming to rip that dumb thing off his head and point your death glare directly in his insufferable blue eyes—those insufferable blue eyes you’re actually starting to hope are under there more than knowing without a doubt are there for sure. 

“Tch—it’s insulting if you think some half-assed performance like this is gonna be enough to scare me. At least have the creativity to come up with something somewhat decent–”

You stop in your tracks halfway over. Hair is peaking out from under the mask. You hadn’t seen it from afar, matted against the black shirt he was wearing—but how could you? How could you when it’s not white hair?

You flinch backward. Stumbling. Assessing the dark, silken locks a second time before looking up at the mask again—that soulless white warped skull with pitch-black bottomless eyesockets.

You take another step back. Breath hitching in your throat when the figure takes a step as well—toward you.

Your heart flares. It’s not Satoru.

Eyes peeled, you feel the panic overthrow you in an instant—like a cold rush, reaching all the way into your bonemarrow, making it hard to move, hard to do much of anything without feeling vulnerable to what it might trigger.

But once the figure pulls his hand out from behind his back, brandishing a butcher’s knife that catches the light and glints in the air—you have no other choice but to run.

What a perfect fucking day to wear fuzzy fucking socks! Fucking October cold is going to be the reason you die—stabbed to death in your own house by some cringey Scream fanboy. No—this can’t be the end—not this way! Why isn’t Satoru home yet? Why can’t he ever be where you need him to be?

You make your way through the house—hoping to reach the door, but turning the corner has you slip and fall, and the intruder’s on you—knife raised, poised prettily in the air above your helpless body, clad in your tiny heart-print pj’s—like the perfect hot airhead in any slasher spoof.

You scream and squeeze your eyes shut, “No! No—please! Please! Satoru, help!”

And right as the knife is supposed to come down and puncture your chest, making it spurt out red until you finally bleed out, dead and gone, there’s a bang instead as two palms land flat on the floor on either side of your head.

Joined by a muffled voice, “Are yah scared yet?”

With your eyes wide open again, you look up at not one mask blocking out the ceiling light but two. And with all the pure alarm savaging your chest, you manage to let out a real horror-movie squeal—unlike a sound you’ve ever made before.

And then, of all things, there’s laughter—no, not laughter—straight cackling.

And—fortunately or unfortunately—you’re quite sure you recognize that sound.

The last one pulls off his mask, and you really can’t believe it—pretty porcelain face squished in amusement with tears of joy in the corner of his insufferable blue eyes.

That fucking bitch.

“You should have seen your face!” he chortles—downright heaves. But for all his handsome features, he truly must be the ugliest laugher there is. Or maybe it’s just that the bastard always laughs at your expense, and after one too many times, it’s left a bad taste in your mouth.

Still, you sigh, eyes closed in relief, “I hate you, ‘Toru. You took it way too far, you ass.”

“No, no, Satoru, help~” he ignores you and mocks in a high-pitched moan, showing not a sign of remorse—holding his hand over his stomach as he falls to the floor, struggling to leave room for breath between hooting and howling.

Your eyes go to the original perpetrator. “And you? You proud or what?”

The wearer pulls off its mask and is revealed to be none other than Satoru’s best friend—Geto.

Honestly, you should have fucking known...

“Sorry, hehe…”

You’re upset—you make that clear with your pout, giving him your best guilt-tripping look from where you rest beneath him.

But still, within, your heart eases at the sight of his kind face and that apologetic smile across it—ever thankful to see him and not the cold-blooded murderer you were convinced was going to kill you only a moment ago—even when pinned beneath him in a position that should be making Satoru jealous.

But your boyfriend couldn’t care less, it seems—too busy rolling on the floor and laughing out loud quite literally, even banging his fist against the wood. Prick.

“I’m gonna throw up–” you say as the nerves finally settle. “And when I’m done, I’m gonna kill you. Both of you.”

Geto seems to think that’s fair, still with that sheepish smile on his face, but Satoru is quick to interject—laughing fit over as he shakes his head, “Nuh-uh. You said if I manage to scare you once this Halloween, I’d get whatever I want.”

You swear he can be such a child sometimes.

Oh, who are you kidding? He’s always a child. It’s only surprising he’s managed to rope Geto into all this—a guy who’s usually so mature.

“I don’t remember saying that…” you sigh, laying the back of your hand atop your forehead, still calming your breaths and the pounding in your head—your body not yet caught up to the fact that it’s trepidation over impending death was all just some silly joke played on you by two idiots.

You can’t believe him—you can’t believe either of them.

“Fucking shit, Geto—I thought I was gonna die.”

He still hasn’t gotten off you—the look of worry on his face tells you he’s probably just wanting to stay close to make you feel safe. You appreciate it, though it’s a little awkward lying beneath him like this—it’s not exactly a position you share with just anyone…

“Honestly, I didn’t think it would work,” he says—eyes slim like always, in that charming way. “I always thought you were smarter than to fall for something this stupid.”

You pull a frown at that—taking it all back. He’s as childish and dumb as Satoru is. He’s just better at hiding it. 

“Oh, shut up—as if you wouldn’t scream if someone chased you down with a knife,” you grumble. “Now get off, you prick.”

You begin to lift yourself onto your elbows, yet despite the clear intention of getting up, Geto doesn’t budge to make it happen.

No, instead, he leans further in—fine-kempt raven hair slipping off his shoulders, falling with the same grace as a veil.

“I was told there’d be a prize for the one that got you to crack, and seeing as I’m the one that made that happen—I want it.”

You have to blink—blanched at the sudden demand.

Satoru, as well, a little stunned—looks wide-eyed at the two of you, upside down where he lies flat on his back, long limbs stretched out like a starfish.

“You what now?” both of you ask in unison.

Geto chuckles before repeating, “My prize. I want it. It’s only fair,” as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

Satoru rolls over onto his stomach to view you both the right way, pursing his lips in thought. “Hmm…” Hand on his chin as if it’s really something to deliberate when the dumbass very well knows what the two of you had bet on and how it very much isn’t a reward you can give to just anyone.

Yet, despite that. “Okay,” he agrees—as if it’s even up to him.

“Hold on now, wait a minute.” You intervene in the almost business-esque dealing they’d somehow held without you. "Not happening.”

“Why not?” they both ask, looking at you. 

And you can’t keep from gaping. The nerve.

Spluttering as you explain, “Because it’s—well, because it was a bet between me and my dumbass boyfriend, and it was very clear what the prize was gonna be, come winner or loser—so, sorry to break it to you, but there is no prize.”

But that doesn’t seem to deter Geto. “Oh, I think there is…” he all but purrs as he leans down further.

“Satoru already agreed. And you’re already on your back beneath me.”

His smile isn’t all so friendly anymore, and still… you can’t help but blush being caught beneath it, holding your breath with fear a little different from the one before but no different in how it makes your heart pound.

“So, if neither of you mind…" he grins slyly. "I think I’ll just take it.” 

♡ GOJO SATORU masterlist ♡ GETO SUGURU masterlist ♡ JUJUTSU KAISEN masterlist

[lacy-oh-lacy]

*cough* agatha with a controversially young lover *cough*

✧₊⁺ 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐟

𝐀/𝐍: I'm combining this with another request for Agatha and a virgin reader because it seemed like a very natural fit. I hope that's okay.

𝐂𝐖: Age gap (reader's in their 20s), Virgin!Reader, Dom!Agatha, Oral (Agatha receiving), fingering, accidental exposure, slightly mean domming

Agatha called you out for eyefucking her the first time you met. Reveling in the flustered panic that followed.

“What? No, no, I um- I didn't mean to-”

“Oh, relax twerp, it takes more than a horny Zoomer to make me clutch my pearls.”

As unimpressed as she seemed with you though, that wasn't the last time she sought you out.

Because apparently, despite your age you made the best potions of anyone in the state, and her need for one drove her right up the grungy stairwell to your apartment.

Dressed to the nines in her expensive blazer and fancy updo, she looked almost comical outside your door, glaring through the threshold. “I'm here for the potion.”

“Shhh.” You ushered her inside, glancing over your shoulder. “My roommates don't know… about my extracurriculars.”

“Of course you have roommates.”

Of course that was the only part of your statement she addressed.

“It’s finished, come in.”

She followed you to your bedroom, a sad little thing, half taken up by your desk alone.

Your college textbooks were pushed precariously to the side to make way for your supplies, from which you plucked a vial and handed it to her.

“Here you go.”

Agatha held it to the light, examining the dark liquid inside with something like approval sparkling in her eyes… At least until you opened your mouth.

“That'll be 500 dollars.” You said, wincing as her inspecting gaze turned to wide, fiery eyes. “...Mam.”

“500 dollars? Are you joking?”

“Sorry. College is expensive.”

You wisely didn't mention that most of your customers were a lot less magically experienced than her and easier to gouge.

“I didn't even bring 500 dollars.”

You sighed. You could -as was evident- really use the money but you weren't going to pick a fight with The Agatha Harkness over it, that was for sure.

“Fine. 100.”

She huffed but reached into a pocket and handed you the bill.

“Great. Just great. Ya know, if you think I'm wound tight now you should see me on a budget.”

“Uh huh.” You couldn't muster sympathy for her if you tried, you doubted you could even brew a potion to. “I'd think at your level you could just magic-up whatever you want... I'm not even sure why you need me.”

Nerve struck, her only reply was a withering glare as she tucked the potion away in an inner pocket of her jacket.

Talking just to fill the silence, shooting your shot because you figured you weren't going to make her any more pissed off, you continued,

“If stress relief is what you're after there are other ways. Free ones.”

You didn't know if she'd catch your meaning, you thought it might be better if she didn't, but oh, she did.

Suddenly, you were the center of Agatha Harkness’ attention, a gleam in her eye and a smirk twisting her face.

“You offering one?”

Your stomach lurched. Did that actually work?

You clawed inwards for any shreds of confidence, enough to get out, “I, well, I could be-”

“That what the discount was for? You wanted a different kind of payment?”

And that threw you off completely.

“What? No, no I-”

“Careful.” She teased. “A sweet little thing like you really shouldn't be offering up what you're not willing to part with.”

She was fucking with you.

And you stumbled right into her trap with no thoughts of getting out.

“I'm not, I mean, I am, I'm willing, if you…”

As much as she clearly enjoyed chewing on your embarrassment, you could tell her patience was thinning by the straining look on her face. She wasn't going to stand there all day waiting for you to get a sentence out.

Fuck it.

Agatha Harkness respects bravery you rationalized, seconds before your lips hit hers.

The terror of free-falling only faded as her lips pushed back against your own, returning your kiss with one more domineering, more violent. So heated your brain was almost melting.

Agatha pulled back, but with swelling lips you hardly felt the difference.

“You sure you know what you're getting yourself into?”

You nodded dumbly, “I’m really into you.”

“Oh, I know you are, Hon, that's not what I'm asking.” Her tone was dark and steady, as soft as a caress. “Do you honestly think you can handle me?”

You swallowed, eyes locked on hers against every instinct to avert them.

“I-I’ll try my best.”

She laughed, a breathy kind of cackle that left a wicked grin on her face.

“Prove it.”

Her hands on your shoulders turned heavy and almost thoughtlessly you sank to your knees under their strength.

“You want me to…?”

She gave you that same look again, like she was waiting for you to catch up and running low on patience.

“Okay… wow, um…”

Your hands, so steady and precise an hour ago while you worked, shook as you reached for Agatha's zipper.

This couldn't have been real, you waited with bated breath for her to slap your hands away.

For someone to jump out of your closet laughing.

For her to pull out a dagger and slit your throat in some kind of virgin sacrifice ritual, because, hey, what was more likely, Agatha Harkness fucking you or killing you?

But her zipper went down, and with a huff Agatha pushed her pants and panties down right along with it.

Holy fuck.

You nearly moaned at the sight of the most perfect cunt you had ever seen in your life. Which was redundant, but it was the only thought your fritzed, virgin brain would supply.

But with white-hot lust came a knot in your stomach as it dawned on you that hundreds of years of experience was staring you down.

How could you possibly live up to that? Be adequate even?

“This is where you lick it.”

You startled at her gravelly voice.

Right. Try now, wallow in your inevitable failure later.

“Should we lock the door first?” you asked, glancing at your crudely installed cheap lock.

“I don't know, should we?” She asked rhetorically, looking like she was seconds away from pushing your head where she wanted it herself.

“Right, nevermind.”

You dove forward, licking straight up her slit and earning a catch in the older woman's breath.

Was she surprised? Expecting you to back out just as much as you expected her to?

Wetness gathered on your tongue, a taste of pure sex that made your head spin. You heard yourself moan. Go figure you’d be the first one to.

You lapped greedily at her cunt, a sloppy exploration that you could've spent an eternity on, but Agatha wasn't having that.

“More.” She exclaimed, halfway between a moan and a growl.

You weren't too inexperienced to know what that meant.

You dragged your tongue up and prodded around for her clit, barely making out the little bud.

Okay. Now what?

You wracked your brain for sex tips. The alphabet trick? Did that even work in real life?

Testing the waters, you used your tongue to spell out your name on her clit, and in a flood of relief and liquid heat you heard a breathy, little moan above you.

Her bundle of nerves swelled under your tongue, hardening into something defined, something easy to play with.

“Oh! That's it! That's a good girl.”

God, she was gonna make you cum on the spot talking like that.

Lust caving in your brain, your licks dissolved to messy, thoughtless circles and crosses. Not that Agatha seemed to mind.

You glanced up at her with hazy vision. Her arm was pressed to her forehead, fist closed as tightly as her eyes. She was already so close.

Possessed by a desperate need to give her that final push over the edge you brought your fingers to her pussy, sliding two inside of her in a gentle thrust.

Agatha moaned through gritted teeth, clenching hard around you while you curled inside her, grazing her g-spot.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Saliva and Agatha’s own wetness dripped down her legs, down your hand, down your chin. She trembled beneath you, breath hitching and coming back a choked sob.

Violent flutters errupted beneath your tongue and around your fingers, but you didn't dare ease up without her command, you didn't until she broke off panting.

“Easy, Tiger, what are you doing? Going for two?” She all but gasped out.

“Sorry.” You said, no more composed yourself. “So, um, was that okay?”

She laughed, “yeah, you did good.” As if remembering that she was the wicked witch of Westview she twisted her features into something meaner. “But don't get too cocky, it's been a long time for me.”

Before you could be proud of the praise or offended by it being cut down you jolted -nearly out of your skin- with the click of your door opening.

“Woah! Ever heard of a sock on the door?”

Oh fuck.

You couldn't even look at your roommate. Wide, apologetic eyes on a groaning Agatha pulling her pants up. Annoyed but not quite embarrassed about this stranger getting an eyeful of her ass.

With her own scolding gaze burning into yours you could only cringe deeply, watching as any chance of Agatha returning the favor faded into the abyss.

“I gotta say, I think this warrants a refund.”

[madaqueue]

LIKE WE WERE MADE TO

of course your doting boyfriend satoru cares about you - he walks you to work every morning, packs your lunches, makes you tea every night before bed. he'd do anything for you, so of course he'll help you with your heat.

pairing: alpha!gojo x omega!f!reader

themes/content: dark content (omegaverse). smut. heats, fingering, knotting, light dumbification, satoru being a little lovesick. (wk: 1.3k)

a/n: YAYYY happy quintober everyone >:) here's my contribution for the @ficsforgaza kinktober event, so excited to be a part of this and check out the link below for more works under this project! view my full kinktober masterlist and the google form for signup to be tagged in other works too! hope you all enjoy :3

quintober masterlist | sign up form | ffg kinktober

Satoru had no idea what to expect as he ran home through the crowded streets; since reading your brief text of ‘Come home. Need you.’ the alarm bells sounding in his head had failed to quiet. He prepared for the worst, scenarios racing through his mind. Were you hurt?

As he barrels through your front door, he certainly doesn’t expect what lays behind it: you, sprawled out naked on the couch, flushed cheeks and sweating, two fingers buried deep inside your cunt.

“What’s going on-”

The sentence dies in his throat as his entire body tenses. Something new hangs in the air, something sending his every sense into overdrive. Almost sickeningly sweet, with an unmistakable, carnal need.

Your heat.

“‘Toru,” you breathe out - even his name on your tongue sounds different, an unfamiliar desperation dripping from it, “need you, now.”

In an instant he’s by your side, your scent growing exponentially stronger with each step he takes until it begins to cloud his own thoughts, overcome with his body’s innate desire to care for you, to care for his omega.

He’s never seen you like this - in your time dating, your suppressants had done their job; maybe that’s why you barely noticed when they ran out last week. Just a few hours ago he was walking hand-in-hand with you to work, your eyes glimmering as you told him about your plans for the day. Something about a big meeting with supervisors? He was honestly a bit distracted by the way your thumb drew circles along his skin, the new perfume he thought you were wearing, how pretty you looked all bundled up in your coat and scarf, like a little present waiting to be unwrapped - before you lightly smacked the back of his head.

“Are you even listening to me, ‘Toru?”

“No,” he beamed.

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t stifle the smile spreading across your lips. Pressing a peck to his cheek, you turned on your heel with a small wave, your fingers dancing against the backdrop of the fall sky.

You always knew how to handle him - that was something he admired about you. He knew his personality easily veered into chaos, and yet you never seemed bothered by it, holding him in your palms and keeping him a stable shape. It took strength to do that, to not let his soul blend the edges of your own.

And yet, now, his strong, independent girlfriend has become nothing more than a sweet, desperate mess. The thought makes his teeth ache.

“Please,” the broken mewl pulls him back to the sweetness surrounding you as you continue pumping your fingers in and out.

Before he can choke out a response, your hands begin hastily removing his clothes, tugging off anything you can grab, palms sweaty against his torso as you unzip his uniform. With a harsh tear, his shirt falls to shreds on the floor, muscles rippling beneath. He was never known for his patience, after all - could you blame him?

“I got you, baby,” he murmurs, climbing on top of you so his thighs straddle your body, sinking into the cushions. “I’m here, m’gonna take good care of you.”

Two lanky fingers collect the slick pooling at your entrance as his free hand wraps around your wrist, gently pulling your palm from between your legs. He holds it above your head, leaning forward and blanketing you in his warmth. A wave of pleasure crashes over you as he slides inside, curling his fingertips towards that spot only he seems able to reach.

But it’s not enough.

“More, ‘Toru, please, need more,” you whine, your hips bucking up involuntarily. The words continue spilling into the air, desperate pleas for what you really need, what only he can give you.

“Okay, just - fuck - gimme a second.” And he’s panting already, the biological drive within him threatening to take over, to pin you down and fuck you until you’re nothing more than a limp little mess beneath him. But he’s better than that.

Right?

It takes every ounce of control to align his tip with your core and stay there for a moment, allowing you to adjust to the stretch as he knows you would want him to, but it’s made all the more difficult with your hands weakly grasping at his hips in an attempt to pull him forward.

“Please, pleasepleaseplease,” you babble, “pleaaaseee-aaaahhh.”

When his cock finally enters you, all your nerves alight in flames. Your vision goes white, eyes rolling back as he fills you up. Exactly what you needed. For a moment, everything stills, returning to your senses as his own musky scent begins mingling in the air with yours.

The brief clarity lets you pick up on the prettiest little whines falling from his lips at the way you envelop him so perfectly, two souls made for one another.

In only a few thrusts he’s sweating, his body sticking to yours with each push and pull of his pelvis. It’s hot, impossibly hot, both of your cheeks flushed and gasping for air. When his lips meet yours, it’s imprecise and messy, breathing into each other’s mouths as your tongues meld. He tastes like sugar and desire and love and cinnamon, like some dessert you were denied as a child for fear it would give you a tummy ache. But now, it’s the only thing satiating you, the only thing you can stomach.

“M’gonna make you feel better,” he’s mumbling into you, “gonna fuck you so good.”

“Only you, ‘Toru,” you babble, and you’re just as gone as he is, “has to be you.”

There’s truth to it, of course - only he could quell the growing ache inside you. Only your alpha. Your bodies were made for this, you realize: with each increasingly rough thrust, he hits every spot inside you so perfectly, and as your walls begin to flutter around him, you squeeze him in just the way that has him losing the last remaining shreds of his sanity.

Each beat of his heart echoes through his ears, overshadowing the wet squelches of your cunt around him and the lewd slapping of his balls against your ass. All he knows is you - his sweetheart, his other half, his omega.

As he ruts into you, something hot and thick begins coiling in his stomach, something unfamiliar, but the words are engraved into his soul as he slurs, “gonna take my knot f’me, yeah? ‘S’gonna help, okay?”

Teary eyes blink up at him, glossed over in pleasure as you nod. “Need it, please,” you whimper. Your mouth forms the word on pure instinct, “Alpha.”

And that’s all it takes to make him snap.

With a broken cry of your name, he releases into you.

The sensation of his cock twitching sends you over the edge, the heat in your chest burning brighter and brighter and brighter until it’s all you can feel.

As you come down from your high, there’s a new pressure in your core - you feel so, so fucking full.

His cum swells inside you as he cautiously adjusts his body weight. Pink cheeks and blue eyes find your gaze and he gives you a weak chuckle, met with your own equally fucked-out grin as you brush sweat-slicked hair from his forehead.

It takes effort to slow his breathing enough to speak, enough to think. “Your first heat with me,” he muses to himself. His heart warms at the thought: now he can take care of you in the way he was made to. “Love you s’much, baby,” he hums, pressing a sloppy kiss to your lips before nuzzling into your neck, softly breathing in the warm scent.

“Love you, too.” Your fingertips slowly scratch his undercut, the haze now clearing enough that you swear you hear him purr. Your cunt involuntarily clenches around him - around his knot - as you gently run your nails down his back. His body melds perfectly around yours. “Alpha.”

[logaenhowlett]

MY BEATIN’ HEART BELONGS TO YOU - L.H.

Summary: Logan believed he was sentenced to a life of solitude until he found you - an unexpected dawn promising the sunrise of a love he always deemed impossible. But then again, destiny never was merciful to fools like him.

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female Reader

Warnings: Soulmate AU, All aboard the Fluff Train with scheduled stops at Angst Station, Established relationship, Hurt/Comfort, How I Met Your Mother reference (iykyk), Reader can manipulate electricity

A/N: 5.9k - strap in, gang. Would you believe me if I said all this was inspired by a debate I had with a friend about the implications of 'I want you' vs 'I need you'. The mind works in silly, little ways sometimes. Title creds to Green Day. Enjoy, you lovely people!

MASTERLIST

Gone were the days when nightmares would rouse him from the sanctuary of sleep. Logan couldn't remember the last time he'd awoken in a cold sweat, sheets shredded from fighting invisible monsters, alarm clock glaring an angry red amongst the darkness. No, all that disappeared once you'd made a home within his arms.

It had been about three months, verging on four if anyone was keeping count - and he, most definitely, was - since you'd swept him away in a tide of fondness and pure affection. The shadow of a man who once roamed the mansion now nurtured a newfound lightness in his heart. Logan wasn't perfect, far from it, chosen paths that only led to a labyrinth of despair, but he was right about one thing: you.

And that verdict especially rings true every morning. The tangle of limbs, the soft ebb and flow of sleepy murmurs, the stray kisses grazing warm skin, he wonders how he'd survived so long deprived of such tender pleasures. He's never going back, that much he knows.

His lips trace a lazy line along your neck, lingering a second longer beneath your jaw. There's a chuckle aching to break through at the thought of your sleep-induced irritation - it’s too early, you'd whine each time. And each time, his half-hearted apologies would be long-forgotten as you meet his gaze, a tempest of desire swirling within hazel.

It's amidst the following moments of peace when he's most thankful for the thick walls surrounding the room. The aftermath of your intimate exchanges always leaves him mesmerised, heart racing at the reminder of your touch. His mutation didn't allow for the full effects of alcohol to poison his inhibitions, yet as your smile gleams at him, Logan's sure he's never been more drunk.

"Where're you goin'?"

He's shaken from his musings as you roll away from his embrace, huffing in disbelief when you don't seem to stop. But, the string of complaints dies on his tongue as he watches you slip on the shirt he'd discarded the night before, turning around amused, "What? You wanna stay here all day?"

"Got nowhere to be."

"Correction - you have nowhere to be. I, on the other hand, need to grade those assignments or Jean'll actually explode my brain this time."

Logan hmphs. He'd been looking forward to lounging around this weekend, positively thrilled at the idea of letting the hours simply trickle away in the quiet comfort of your company. However, he's also one too familiar with Jean's intolerance for slacking off and lessons were definitely learned.

"Let her try," he counters meekly.

As you circle the bed to part ways with a chaste kiss, Logan seizes the opportunity to pull you down, pinning you beneath him in one effortless move. His lips capture yours with a deliberate, sensual slowness - the urgency from earlier now completely absent. The feeble protests vanish from your mind as he breaks away, a twinkle of mischief playing on his smile.

His fingers trace the curve of your wrist, hovering over the faint crescent moon inked in black. It was the mark of your soulmate. Of him, he hopes. You'd shown him quite early into the relationship, spending many a night whispering theories and speculations about its meaning. At first, he expressed only timid fascination, a question here and there spurred by gentle curiosity while you rambled on and on. But as his heart began to tether itself to yours, the mark took on a new significance. Every time his gaze fell upon it, his thoughts would spiral from longing and self-doubt, wondering if he was the one destined to share a lifetime with you.

Over the decades he'd been alive, Logan had searched every crevice of his body for his own. In his youth, it was a fleeting thought, brushed aside by the assumption that his healing factor wouldn't allow for these scars. Yet as time passed, he was terrified of waking up to a branded promise - a cruel trick that condemned his soulmate to a life with him. After he met you, those fears were soon eclipsed by a yearning, a desperate hope for a sign of his worthiness. Every day, he lingered by the mirror, gaze sweeping across his reflection, praying for an identical crescent moon to mark his skin.

"Logan." Your laugh draws his attention, "I'm never leaving the bed at this rate."

"Darlin', that's the general idea."

He relents anyway, falling onto his back with a soft grunt as you stand up. The dopey grin you're biting has him narrowing his eyes in suspicion, wondering what goddamn joke popped into your mind. Before he can question it, you straighten your posture and salute, "General Idea."

A look of confusion contorts his features, though he doesn't get anything besides a mumbled response as you leave the room, "Never mind, it's from a show."

A mountain of papers sits perched on your desk illuminated by the warm glow of the lamp, the scratching of your pen punctuating the silence of the classroom as you continue grading your students' assignments. It had been a couple of hours since you left Logan amongst the nest of blankets. And that image only seemed more enticing with each word you read.

"Missed ya."

Speak of the devil.

Except this devil was an angel - you could almost see a halo shimmering around his figure, backlit by the sunlight flooding the hallway. Every time you think you've captured the essence of his allure, he defies your expectations, often with just a simple gesture. And despite the countless compliments and declarations of adoration, Logan still seemed surprised by flattery, his lips always seeking yours to hide the blush creeping up his cheeks.

"I just saw you like - "

"In the shower," he interrupts, smirk widening as he approaches. He leans against the chair, nose brushing against your exposed shoulder.

Something in your brain short-circuits at his words and the casual display of affection. You stammer a little, "You… didn't tell me."

"Oh, that would've worked hm?" Logan spins the chair around, chuckling as he catches your flustered expression, "'M sorry, sweetheart... guess I gotta make it up to ya."

You never thought Logan was a romantic. Yet, time and time again you discover the depths of his boundless capacity for love and companionship. It wasn't just the whispered promises and passionate revelations, but the quiet moments, the stolen glances, the tender touches that speak volumes. Neither of you had uttered those three words yet, though they hang heavy in the air, unspoken but deeply felt.

His hand winds up beneath your shirt, bunching the fabric near your waist as he pulls you closer. Heat, courtesy of the shower, wafts off his skin, a tantalizing sensation that makes your breath hitch. His tongue toys with your lower lip, teasing just enough that you find yourself chasing after him, desperate for more. The laugh he produces, though smug, is also contagious, a sound that never fails to swallow your heart.

Again and again, he'd professed his desire to unravel you by his sheer touch, how your craving for him sets his insides ablaze. And judging by the way your eyes darken, mouth parting almost reflexively, he's got you dancing to his tune like a puppet on a string - and you wouldn't have it any other way.

But he backs off all of a sudden.

A crescendo of footsteps echoes down the hallway and the moment is shattered. Three of your students barge in, out of breath and frazzled as they clutch their assignments. A frown creases Logan's brow, annoyance he's certainly putting no effort to hide has them second-guessing their intrusion until you beckon them in with a warm smile. With a hasty apology, they fumble with their papers, eyes darting between the two of you before rushing out, the door swinging shut.

"We gotta find a place," he grumbles, dipping forward into your neck.

"We already live together."

A sharp click of his tongue, a playful nip to your shoulder, seals his disapproval, "Not enough. Lil' brats interrupt every damn time."

He wasn't wrong in the slightest. The kids did seem to have an uncanny ability to sense the most inopportune times to interfere. Sometimes you joked that it was one of their mutant powers and Logan, with an amused roll of his eyes, would just scoff and agree. You can't help but chuckle, "'Least it wasn't Scott... I think we traumatised him last week."

It was indeed last week when the two of you retreated to the Danger Room. Of course, with the sole and noble intention of honing your defensive tactics. However, the moment you strategically knocked him off his feet, the situation had taken a decidedly different turn. Pinned beneath you, Logan held a look of astonishment that soon morphed into something much more eager. He'd uttered all of two words before your lips slammed against his and whatever hopes you had for training immediately became the least of your worries. That was until somebody walked in.

He huffs a laugh, the memory filling him with satisfaction, "Should've used his fuckin' brain with those sounds you were makin'."

"Oh god, poor Scott," you mumble, embarrassed by the thought.

"Quit sayin' his name." The growl that curls his words leaves goosebumps in its wake. Logan grips your chin, tilting your head back slightly, a slow grin unfurling as his gaze bores into yours.

"I said it twice!" you protest, but it's all in vain. His thumb drags across your lip, silencing your words.

"That's two more than I care for."

It's dark outside by the time he's done with you.

Sugar melts on his tongue, the velvety texture of chocolate dancing across his palate. Logan takes a rather indulgent sip, the steaming liquid warming his throat. Nestled on opposite sides of the window seat, the two of you share a quiet moment accompanied by nothing but pale moonlight. A comforting weight settles on your feet, his hand kneading the stress away with care. Outside, a delicate snowfall paints the mansion's grounds, grass slowly fading away, droplets racing down the windowpane.

Dinner had wound down hours ago. The kids gathered around the living room after, wide-eyed with wonder as the first snow of the season began. Charles eventually ushered them off to bed, Logan had planned to follow suit until your gentle tug derailed his desire to sleep altogether. And as always, there's no world where he'd deny you anything.

He sees you stifle a giggle every now and then, your eyes twinkling with amusement each time he lifts his mug. It was nothing fancy - mostly white, adorned with a line of stockings and, cheekily, the words "Well hung".

It was a present from you a few Christmases ago. He remembers you watching him warily unwrap the box, laughing out of giddiness as he blushed when the implication dawned on him. It's just a silly gift, you'd reassured, not pressuring him to even keep it. Yet, since then, it remained a permanent fixture on his bedside table. During restless nights, he'd reach for the familiar mug, seeking solace in the kitchen to drink away the looming shadows of insomnia.

It wasn't until your first night together that you saw it again after all those years, carefully placed and by far, the cleanest thing on his table. Logan ducked his head sheepishly before confessing just how much he treasured the sentiment. In a lifetime of solitude, someone had spared a second to think about him, even for a simple gag gift. And that thought warmed his heart a little on especially hard days.

"You're a child," he chides as you smile, rolling his eyes.

You scoff under your breath, "Oh, just cause you're a hundred years old."

"Hundred and sixty," he corrects, grabbing your foot mid-air before you can nudge his thigh. There's a brief pause as he places the mug aside, a wicked grin splitting his lips. Laughter fills the air as you squirm and wriggle away, quickly understanding the look behind his eyes. But Logan moves faster. His hands trail their way to your sides, drawing squeals of protest as he tickles you.

Seconds later, he backs off, satisfied by your reaction. Shifting his weight, he settles on top of you with a gentle press. As he lays against your chest, humming softly in contentment, the soothing caress of your fingers through his hair lulls him into a state of relaxation. The world simply fades away, replaced by the warmth of your embrace and the quiet flush of domestic bliss. A profound swell of gratitude spreads within his heart. It's during intimate moments like these that he feels especially lucky. A far cry from the man brought into this mansion years ago, times you also reflect on amidst late-night conversations.

The memories remain as vivid as yesterday.

It was late in the afternoon, the setting sun casting long silhouettes across the classroom. You stood by the blackboard, explaining the laws of electromagnetism while scribbling equations in chalk. For months, you'd taken over Charles' role as the physics professor, and what began as a favour soon grew into a passion. However, some days were particularly slow. A palpable sense of boredom washed over your students as their eyes drifted towards the clock in anticipation. Just as you were about to begrudgingly dismiss them, the door flew open - a dishevelled figure clad in gray burst in, wildly panting in fear and confusion.

This must be Logan, you concluded, recalling the latest mission debrief from Scott and Storm. They'd rescued two mutants in Canada, one of whom was particularly banged up and recovering in the med bay. Well, until now. Since their arrival, Charles had emphasised the erratic nature of Logan's mind, even unconscious, a part of him stayed unyielding against the telepath's powers. But as you locked eyes with him, you saw none of that. Instead, he seemed lost and terrified, glancing around the room from one corner to the next as if someone was speaking. Before you could offer a word of reassurance, he was gone, disappearing into the hallway like a fleeting shadow.

Over the following months, he slowly began to emerge from his shell. At first, it was just plain nods of acknowledgement as you passed each other in the mansion. Then, a word here and there, clipped phrases of advice and caution during particularly dangerous missions. Gradually, his presence became more pronounced. Sometimes, after intense training sessions, he'd slip into the back of your classroom, intently listening to your lectures on concepts you presumed were entirely foreign to him.

Except they weren't. It was only later that you discovered his secret: the countless hours spent poring over textbooks he'd discreetly stolen from Charles' bookshelf. The realisation filled your heart with a warm sense of affection. His unspoken interest, the hidden depths, it was all so endearing. Thereafter, Logan consumed your thoughts. And it was during one of those sleepless nights that you found the courage to join him in the kitchen, wordlessly focusing on your own books at either end of the table. Since then, a shared understanding passed between you, a bond forged from mutual appreciation and a hint of something more.

The first time he cracked a smile left you breathless. Jean was furious at Scott, her anger clear as day as she stormed away. And Scott, ever so helpless, turned to anyone for guidance, retracing every misstep, every misplaced word. Logan, watching the scene unfold, sneered to himself, enjoying the man cluelessly suffering. You exchanged a knowing look, a silent agreement on the absurdity of the situation. As you excused yourself, a fit of giggles threatening to overtake you, Logan followed close behind, unable to suppress his own laughter.

From that moment on, things changed. You found yourselves seeking each other, conversations flowed effortlessly, at times even seasoned with playful banter. And as Logan became a steady figure in your life, a strange ache settled in your heart. You were falling for him. Yet, his emotions remained a mystery, a puzzle you were desperate to solve.

One year became another, and another and another. And as your feelings for him increased, hesitation crept in rather unwillingly. You pushed everything away, burying them six feet under, afraid of rejection or something worse. But Logan, with his uncanny perceptiveness, sensed the shift in your behaviour. And one day, in a moment of raw honesty, he confronted you. A heated argument ensued, emotions spilling over, words cutting deep. Then, just as suddenly, the tension dissipated. His lips were on yours, conveying every bit of the love he carried in ways words could never bring justice to.

That was a couple of months ago. Everything was perfect and you'd never felt more complete until you noticed the brief flashes of insecurity whenever he saw the mark on your wrist. You knew he didn't have one. In the beginning, it became a sensitive topic, you started wearing a watch or longer sleeves to stop reminding him. But eventually, his unease was too much to ignore.

And so, you bit the bullet.

The conversation was fraught with discomfort, but as you spoke, his expression softened, a slight weight lifting off his shoulders. He shamefully expressed his worries, the fear of not being enough - not being the one for you. It was a small step, but one that brought you closer than ever before.

Logan couldn't have been more grateful.

"Perhaps the two of you should, what do the kids call it, get a room?"

Charles' voice suddenly cuts across the silence. All eyes, including Logan's and yours, snap up from the blueprints scattered on the table. Scott blinks in confusion, meanwhile Jean, holding back a knowing smirk, can barely contain herself.

"I've had my fair share of lewd daydreams in my youth, but that was quite disturbing," he continues, tone laced with disapproval.

Colour drains from your face. Had your thoughts really been that obvious? Sure, you couldn't stop admiring how the tight leather suit molded to Logan's physique - incredibly distracting, to say the least. But you didn't realise you were projecting your attraction so loudly, especially in a room with two telepaths.

"Sorry, Professor." It seems useless to apologise at this point, but he responds with a curt nod directed at Logan. Turning your attention to the blueprints, you feel a familiar weight against your back. Logan, the sly bastard, leans over your shoulder with feigned nonchalance. And it takes every ounce of your willpower to focus on the serious discussion instead.

A recon mission.

Some old abandoned Hydra facility used for mutant experimentation in the 90s, the remnants of failed trials left to rot and forgotten. Charles had caught wind of it through Cerebro, suspecting that there may be valuable information hidden within its walls, secrets that should very well stay away from the wrong hands.

"What's in there?" Scott asks, tensing a little.

Charles pauses, a scowl twisting his expression, "That is a private matter."

"Private Matter," you mumble without thinking, instinctively reaching for a salute before Logan catches your wrist, halting the motion. He shoots a look, a silent reprimand that very clearly implies "Not now". Fortunately, no one else witnesses your mistimed quip, too engaged in drafting a safe plan for extraction.

The mission seems fairly straightforward, a simple infiltration like many you've done before. Nevertheless, Charles concludes with a stern warning to heed caution, "Now, good luck to all of you." As you filter out the room, he casts a pointed glare, "And Logan, please refrain from defiling my desk at any point in the future."

Shock etches across your face, mouth slightly agape. Once you're out of earshot, you shove Logan’s arm in embarrassment, "It wasn't me then." You breathe in relief only to be reminded of the thoughts he seemed to be entertaining earlier. What surprises you is the fact that you're more intrigued than deterred by the idea.

"My bad, sweetheart. Couldn't help myself," he laughs, dipping in close to whisper, "Suit's makin' it real hard to think straight." And with that, he's off, jogging ahead to Scott and Jean already waiting in the hangar.

Once you're airborne, the atmosphere shifts. Jean pilots the jet, her hands steady on the controls, eyes scanning the horizon. The Hydra facility looms in the distance, a dark and ominous presence in the middle of nowhere. As you approach your destination, a sense of apprehension lingers among the four of you. Scott recounts the plan, outlining the most efficient entry and exit points, his voice low and deliberate, "Logan and I will start from top-down and you two from the opposite."

As you leave the jet, a hand slips into your own, stilling you in place. Logan tugs you into his arms, there's a faint smile playing on his lips, his eyes, however, convey something along the lines of "Be careful, please". You squeeze his hand reassuringly, pressing a quick kiss before breaking away. With a reluctant sigh, he catches up with Scott, splitting off from you and Jean.

Inside, the air is thick with the scent of decay and neglect. Everything is left exactly as it was, except there are signs of a violent struggle - machines overturned, wires strewn across the floor, glass shards crunching under your boots. It's a scene of chaos and destruction. In the center lies an operating table, its restraints snapped in half, broken syringes and discarded medical equipment scattered around.

Electricity crackles beneath your fingertips. Though your powers aren't advanced, Charles has been a patient mentor, overseeing your progress since the day he found you. However, as you keep surveying the area, you notice an odd sensation, a subtle resistance to your abilities. A similar unease grips Jean too, her gaze meeting yours, a shared look of concern exchanged as you continue your search.

A distorted voice breaks through the comms, "Upper level's clear. No sign of anything." It's Scott, barely recognisable over the static.

"Copy. Still sweeping the lower level," you respond, but it's garbled by the interference.

"Stay on alert," Jean warns, straining her telekinetic energy against the strange force permeating the facility. "Defence systems could still be active."

You venture deeper into the hallway, greeted by an eerie silence broken only by the echo of your own footsteps. A series of cells line the corridor, thick metal barricades, scarred and rusted, stand as a testament to the suffering endured by those held captive years before. Peering through the tiny barred windows, you see sterile, empty rooms, not a single bed or mattress to be found - the cold, hard concrete floor offering no comfort.

"Fuckin' hell," you murmur, chills running down your spine. Jean hums quietly in agreement, looking around in horror. The electricity you can usually detect in the background dwindles to a weak buzz. You descend a narrow staircase, the air growing heavier by the second. At the end of the hallway is another metal hatch, this time with a faded Hydra symbol etched onto its surface. With a concentrated effort, Jean manipulates the lock, the door groaning open with a distinct beep.

It's beyond dimly lit - a dark, cavernous space. You focus your powers, fighting against the invisible pressure dampening your strength, current coursing through your veins. With a snap of your wrist, the room erupts in light, fluorescent bulbs flickering awake. A row of computers surrounded by a bundle of wires and archaic machinery stretch towards the ceiling.

"Must be the control room," Jean reaches out to flip a switch, but as her fingers brush the old metal, energy jolts through your body - a warning that something is amiss.

"No - wait!" you shout, but it's too late. The metal door slams shut with a deafening clang. An agonising vibration rattles through the room, a shockwave that reverberates through your body. The two of you sink to the floor, clutching your ears as a rush of debilitating pain burns every nerve ending in your body. And you're left paralysed for what feels like an eternity.

Logan clicks his tongue as static continues pouring through the comms, he catches the tail-end of your broken reply - something something lower level - a pit of dread forming in his stomach, "Place feels off."

"You're right, I can't get a read on anything," Scott mutters, the red hue of his glasses flashing in the darkness.

Logan's eyes dart around the space, landing on a series of grotesque instruments undoubtedly used for torture. A wave of nausea washes over him, flashbacks of his own past spring forward at the sight, reminders of the days when he too was a mere subject in someone else's twisted experiments. Suddenly, the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. An imperceptible vibration ripples beneath his feet, "The fuck was that?"

Scott immediately tries the comms again, "Jean? Wha - ", but it goes completely dead.

Logan's already barrelling through the corridors, his instincts taking over without a conscious thought. He calls for you again and again, reckless abandon fueling his every move. Screw the mission, all he wants is for you to be safe. His heart leaps into his throat as static hisses through the comms, Jean's voice muffled through the noise, "We've got... a major problem."

One second passes.

Two.

Three.

"C'mon, darlin'." The silence drags on, panic begins to seize his mind, sweat beading on his forehead. He needs to find you, now. The faint vibrations gradually become intense as he races down the staircase, "Major problem? C'mon, say your stupid joke, sweetheart. Please. Anything." His pleas, wracked with desperation, fall on deaf ears. Fear gnaws at him. He’s itching to hear your voice, even for that little running gag he doesn’t fully understand. Just any goddamn sign that you're still alive.

His senses direct him towards the metal hatch. Lunging forward, his fist connects with the barrier, claws extending at any attempt to tear through the door. Yet it holds firm, its surface barely dented or scratched by his force. Frantic, Logan rams his claws into the small security panel on the side, trying to short-circuit the lock. But the moment it's breached, a chain reaction is triggered, explosives hidden within the walls detonate with a tremendous roar. A torrent of debris and radiation thrusts him backwards, knocking him hard against the concrete.

The world around him seemingly implodes into a bedlam of sound and light, white flashes obscuring his vision. Pain, a searing, all-consuming pain diffuses through every inch of his body. His consciousness wanes, slipping away from his grasp. In the fading moments of awareness, he hears a distant crackle of electricity.

Then, nothing.

The memory of the chaos, the blinding light, the aftermath of the explosion, replay over and over. And then, there was Logan, his body limp and unresponsive, a sight that haunts your every waking moment. You remember the desperate scramble to escape the facility, the weight of his unconscious form in all your arms, the tense journey back to the mansion, Charles and Jean ushering you out of the med bay - their focus solely on stabilising him.

The night stretches on, a relentless march of time that seems to punctuate your helplessness as you pace back and forth. The lack of response from anyone doesn't quell the whirlwind of anxieties in the slightest. Every minute sound, every faint whisper, sends your heart racing. But when they finally emerge hours later, faces etched with exhaustion and relief, you can finally breathe.

For days, you sit by Logan's bedside, hands intertwined with his. The monotonous rhythm signalling his vitals is the only thing grounding you to reality. Though he remains unconscious, Jean had offered words of comfort, pointing to subtle improvements in his healing with her scans. Eventually, warmth returns to his body. His breathing, once laboured, is now full and steady. Leaning forward, you press a gentle kiss to his forehead and hope ignites within you again, just enough to draw a small, weary smile.

But then, you see it.

Glaring at you, painfully so, is a little mark on the back of his shoulder. Except, it isn't the same crescent moon that adorns your wrist. No.

Your heart sinks, breath catching in your throat, paralysis sets in once again. A single, shattering revelation echoes in your mind: Logan is not your soulmate.

He stirs awake, eyelids fluttering open. Everything slowly returns to his senses as the haze of confusion begins to clear. The first thing he notices is the familiar scent of you lingering on his skin, in the air, on the chair pulled by his side. As his vision unblurs, the blue walls of the med bay coming into view, a flood of concern smacks him in the face. Where are you? What happened? He tries to sit up, his body protesting with every movement.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

The mechanical hum of a wheelchair grows louder as it approaches. Charles, brimming with sympathy, rolls closer.

Logan groans, his muscles throbbing like never before, "What the hell happened? Is she - "

"She's alright, as are Scott and Jean," he interjects, though a shadow of pity clouds his expression. The unspoken weight behind his words triggers alarms in Logan's head, but before he can question him, a sharp burn shoots up his back. He winces, reaching for the source of the stinging. Beneath his fingertips, a strange, rough texture grates against his skin. He angles back to inspect it, blood running cold.

"It surfaced a week ago," Charles says grimly, "We suspect the radiation from the explosion temporarily impacted your healing, hence, the mark."

Logan can't think straight, a maelstrom of emotions engulfs every single fiber of his being - disbelief, agony and rage. How could this be real? He'd spent night after night, praying for some sort of sign, a reason for his existence. And when he found that in you, it felt like everything finally aligned. But now, destiny had struck him down with a ruthless blow, a cosmic twist of fate far worse than death.

Seven days.

That's how long it's been since you last saw him. The weight of the world bore down on you, every breath a struggle. Hours bled into one another as you stayed locked in your room, sobbing uncontrollably, your heart fracturing with each passing moment. Jean's persistent knocking eventually broke through your despair, her calm voice soothing your frayed mental state.

It took all of her gentle persuasion for you to finally eat something, to force you out of the anguish that consumed you. The news that Logan was awake and begging to see you almost crumbled the impenetrable walls you'd built up. But the thought of facing him, of confronting the fragile pieces of your harsh reality, filled you with dread.

And so, you avoided him. Retreating into yourself, a ghost of your own life, you clung to the illusion of distance. Maybe it'll somehow ease the pain, the heartbreak. You couldn't even bear to look at your own wrist, the mark - a cruel reminder of a love that was and a future that can never be. Every second of every day, mocking whispers floated around your mind, "You don't deserve him. You never did."

The moment Logan fully recovers, he immediately rushes through the mansion. Anticipation swells in his chest, there's nothing he wants more than your touch, your laughter - just you. He reaches your room, sensing the warmth from within. Hand hovering in the air, he takes a deep breath before knocking.

"Sweetheart?"

There's no response. He drops his head against the door, breathing ragged. Tears sting his eyes, threatening to spill over, the oxygen in his lungs thinning as he tries to speak, "Please. I know you're in there. Talk to me." The silence, the emptiness, it all becomes too much. He's losing you, and he can't do anything to stop it. "I know you're upset. But, please, just let me in."

Your voice comes muffled, charged with grief and sorrow, "That mark means there's someone out there for you - your real soulmate. Someone who isn't me." The words are piercing, he longs to pull you into his arms, to comfort you, to reassure you. "I am not meant for you, Logan," you choke out.

"Fuck that," he spits back. He can't accept this, that you're conceding to some inexplicable truth, "'M not givin' you up cause of some shit on my body. I choose you. And I will choose you. Every single time." It's all strangled, raw with emotion, cheeks stained with a wetness. He's wound up, a caged animal clawing at the bars. He'll fight for you, even if all the cards are against him, "Darlin', I don't care if there's someone else - they're not you. You're perfect to me. For me. The universe can go fuck itself cause I love you."

Logan goes still. He's never expressed that to you, not in this way, not with such soul-baring honesty. But, nothing has ever been more true, "I love you."

Heavy hangs the air. Then, a soft padding of footsteps, the door clicks open. Before he can react, your hands cup his face, drawing him down to your level, lips meeting in a passionate caress. Logan cradles the back of your head, deepening the kiss. The space between you, both physically and emotionally, fades away. This is all that matters, for now and forever.

His arms tighten as you pull back and tuck into the crook of his neck. The weight of your exhaustion is obvious with the shuddering sigh you let out, his heart aching for you. As you whisper apologies, he trails kisses down your face. "No, no, don't be sorry, darlin'," he says, all soft and gentle. Neither of you move, surrendering to each other, the moment suspended in time. Slowly, your trembling subsides and he smiles, the lines of misery now dimming. With delicate fingers, he brushes your tears away.

"I have a major headache," you murmur, eyes falling shut.

He huffs a laugh, saluting you with a playful grin, "Major Headache." The look of astonishment across your face brings him so much joy. "I asked Kitty, told me to watch the damn show." And Logan did watch the show - all for you - to understand the little references you kept making here and there.

"You know how to use the Internet?" you ask, incredulously.

"Don't push it, sweetheart." There's no malice behind his tone whatsoever. With a smirk, he leans forward, scooping you up in his arms and carries you to the bed. It's a familiar motion, a routine he's done hundreds of times before. But now, it's different, one that’s even more precious.

"Logan?"

"Hm?"

"I love you too."

He knows. He knows because it's written all over you. Every word, every breath, every touch - a testament to your love for him. A love so quiet and profound, a love that has weathered storms, a love that will last until the end of time. And he's eternally grateful for it. For you.

[darnell-la]

𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗕𝗘𝗔𝗦𝗧 𝗕𝗥𝗢𝗞𝗘 𝗢𝗨𝗧 (sᴍᴜᴛ ᴏɴʟʏ)

pairing: dark!project x!wolverine x government employee!reader

warnings: held to work, reader on her period, project x gone wild, killing, hunting/sniffing down, rough sex, oral (fem receiving), creampie, kidnapped, new life, etc.

note: we wish…

follow our Instagram @ darnell.la so we can start posting random videos, photos, edits, and memes of the people we write about!

————————————————————————

𝟯𝗥𝗗 𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗢𝗡 𝗣𝗢𝗩

Y/n ran faster after hearing the guard and then yelled right after. She knew Project X had killed them. She was scared she was next.

As Logan was fighting, he was fixated on sniffing y/n out. He knew which way she ran, but had to track her down from the way she smelt.

Every second that passed, she smelt better. He’s never smelt that smell in his life, yet, he needed it like he’s had it every day of his life.

Y/n finally made it to her room, closing and locking her door. She hoped he didn’t know where she slept. He shouldn’t. He’s never been outside of that room.

As time went by, it got quiet. The guards yelling at least. The alarms were still going off, but at least the yelling was gone, right? That means they got him. Right?

Y/n said on her bed, looking at the door to be prepared, but nothing happened. No one was near, she thought.

The young lady sighed as she turned her head. As soon as her eyes left the door, it was kicked open. Y/n screamed as she jumped further onto her bed, head turning towards the door.

“Augh,” he growled low with a smirk as he fixed his posture and walked into y/n’s room slowly. How did he know where she was? The man closed the girl's door, locking it, which she thought was going to be impossible by the way he kicked it open.

She thought kicking it open was impossible, but forgot, the door was light metal. Metal he would definitely be able to get through.

“P-Please don’t hurt me. Please! I-I’ll do anything! I’ll break you out. I swear!” Y/n said as her back hit the wall as she stayed on her bed. He ignored her offer, still grinning at her as he stepped closer.

“Please — What do you want from me!?” She yelled at him, pissed off that he won’t speak. Why is he coming after her? How did he find her?

Without answering her, Logan lunged at her. She screamed in the most horrific scream she’s ever screamed. She thought her life was over until he heard the man laugh.

Y/n’z eyes opened looking at what he was laughing at. He was laughing at her. Was he going to laugh while he shredded her body?

“What are you laughing at? Just get it over it!” She yelled in his face. He liked how feisty she got. Actually, he loved how feisty she was. Even though he hated how he got, it looked hot on her. Watching her yell, turned him on even more.

Logan ignored her again as he slowly moved down her body. She watched him, looking directly into his eyes, not knowing what he was going to do.

That was until he sniffed and groaned with his eyes shut tightly. “That’s where it’s comin’ from,” his raspy voice spoke before he ripped at y/n’s work jeans. They were thick, but no match for him.

Y/n screamed, shook at his actions and even his sentence became he’s never spoken around her. She was convinced he couldn’t speak.

Y/n thought she couldn’t be more surprised until the muscular and sweaty man ripped her panties off. She went to yell at him, but her voice got trapped in her mouth after he buried his face in between her thighs.

Y/n’s back arched, not able to speak for the first few seconds until she finally let out a loud moan, eyes rolling back to the point it slightly hurt.

“F-Fuck!” She screamed, head finally popping up to look down and in between her legs. “Fuck — No! No, please!” She kept screaming, but her voice sounded more cracked.

The man growled on her heat, slurping and slobbering all over cunt.

He didn’t know what came to him. He didn’t know why he loved the smell and taste of her. Years ago, he’d get icky when women said they were on their period, but something about being locked up for years and his mutant abilities being boosted made it impossible for him not to have a taste.

“N-No,” y/n’s back arched again, trying to close her legs, but the man used his huge hands to keep her legs separated. He knew she was close. He needed that smell over on his and in his mouth.

The man mumbled on her cunt, praising her but she couldn’t hear him. Her head went blank as she came undone all over his face.

If this was a normal human, he for sure would’ve drowned, but not Logan. He wished he could drown in her sweet juice.

“Fuuck, bub,” the man groaned as he leaned up, now moving over her until he was face to face with her. Her head was laid back on her sheets. He knew he drained her, but he needed more.

“Don’t pass out on me, princess. It’s been a while since I’ve gotten my cock wet, and you’re gonna be the first to drench it,” he said as he leaned back and off of her bed.

He was covered in blood. All of the guards and y/n’s. He thought it would be mindful to wet a towel in her room and wash his face off. He wanted her to faint from the good fuck he was about to give her. Nothing else.

“You know, baby? I always wanted to break outta here — But after I saw you? Fuck — I saw no need,” Logan said as he crawled back over y/n, sniffing up her body. “Not at all,”

“P-Please,” y/n’s low voice spoke. She was tired and needed to rest. It’s been a long week, and the way he just ate her out, made it longer. She’s on the line of passing out. “D-Don’t hurt me,”

“Ian gonna hurt you, bub. Gonna fill you up then get us outta here,” Logan said as he pulled his jeans down, freeing his cock. She had no idea what was going on or what he was saying. She was out of it.

“You’ve been comin’ in my little room for a month. You talk a lot, but I never mind. I find it shitty how these people could keep a pretty thing like you trapped in here with an animal like me,”

“Maybe it’s my luck — Just know, Ian, leavin’ heat without you. You belong to me now,” the man said. What was he talking about? Y/n was so confused that she felt pressure in between her legs.

The man let pour a shaky groan, feeling the young woman squeeze him tighter than he thought she could. It’s been a year, but he worse if it hadn’t, she’d still feel this amazing to him.

“Fuckin’ hell, y/n,” Logan spoke, triggering her slow-thinking mind. How did he know her name? “Have you been restricted from sex for decades too? You’re so fucking tight, fuck,” Logan was surprised.

“T-Too much — Too much!” Y/n gained some energy back to cry out and slap at his upper body. “Ah huh? Really? Can’t take a cock, baby? Can’t take my cock, baby?” Logan sounded more aggressive by the second.

“Been locked up for so long, I don’t give a fuck if I break you. I’ll put you back together, don’t worry. But you wouldn’t stay fixed for long,” he chuckled as y/n struggled to hold her moans.

“Cryin’ on my cock — Might be my new favorite thing, bub,” he said as he looked at her face. She looked so pretty. He wondered how she’d look with his huge cock in his mouth.

Ever since she stepped into his experimental room with one of her dress uniforms, he’s been feeling something for her. She was pretty, and after hearing her speak to him for weeks without him saying anything back, he fell in love with how smart she was.

Now that’s a woman he’s wanted for years…

“F-Fuck,” y/n gripped his shoulders, digging her nails into his skin. He loved the slight pain she gave him. “Names Logan, baby. Moan my name,” Logan said in a desperate voice.

She was confused. His quick switches confused her. “Moan my fuckin’ name before I stuck your ass neck,” he threatened. The man looked down, looking at the way his cock was coated in her blood and cum. She was a squirted and creamer.

“L-Logan,” she cried out, scared he was going to fuck her ass like he threatened. As much of a monster he seemed like now, he didn’t want to hurt her. He knew anal was something he’d have to get her comfortable with one day.

“Logan,” she moaned again, even if he didn’t ask for it. She was so close. Again. “That’s it, bub — Got me so fuckin’ close,” he snapped his hips, building the perfect rhythm to fuck her in.

Watching her mouth part and eyes cross as they rolled back was the last straw. The man’s hips stuttered, wanting y/n he was going to cum in her.

She wanted to freak out, but she couldn’t. She just laid there, moaning his name as she released on him again.

“Oh, fuck!” The man shouted as he spilled in her. Cumming at the same time wasn’t something he was expecting, but that was it for him. He was officially tied to her.

Logan wanted to speak to y/n. Ask her if she felt good, but he noticed she had passed out. “Once you wake up, you’ll be home,” he said, knowing exactly where he was heading.

Logan had slipped one of y/n’s nightgowns on her before picking her up and carrying her through the halls, avoiding the guards who were looking for him. They had cameras everywhere, yet the guards on duty tonight were fucking idiots.

Once they made it out, he ran through the street, trying to find a bus that would leave the city. After running around for too long, he decided to break into a drunk, placing y/n in the back and then driving off before anyone stopped him.

“We’re here, bub,” Logan spoke, hours away from Washington. His parents owned a cabin in the woods next to a highway in Oklahoma.

He knew it would be hard, but he was keeping y/n. He couldn’t let anyone else get what he smelled off of her. He was wild for her.

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ

[aronaut]

Warmth

Pairing: Sebastian Solace x gn!reader Summary: You're a former researcher that was working before the blacksite lockdown. Forgotten and abandoned, you have no other choice but to work with a certain shopkeeper. Needless to say, you have your differences. Warnings: Explicit mentions of blo/od and inj/ury in the beginning. Not beta read Word count: 4,191 (This is a drabble I plan to include in a long list of loosely connected ideas. Consider it the middle of an enemies to qp partners plot :] )

...The low, ominous groan and creak of metal is enough to put anyone on edge, you think, as you traverse the seemingly endless halls.

Rifling through the cabinets and drawers, scrounging up scraps left behind by hasty thieves, the unsettling ocean ambience is all you have for company. You wonder, just when did your life derail so horrifically, when the sight of a crumpled body on the ground fills you with elation. The heavy, steel doors slide open with little fanfare. Beyond the mangled corpse, your eyes immediately set on a black light laying just a few feet away. Stepping over the expendable, you collect the item. There is little battery left in the light you note, before stashing it in the worn messenger bag slung over your shoulder.

With a heavy sigh, you eyes scan below. Scarlet scatters across the floor in a chaotic spray, drawing your eyes towards the deep crimson pool steadily crawling towards the toe of your shoe. In the center of it all, lays the head of a late expendable, expression locked in a display of permanent shock. From below their eye, a coat of flaky, dry red webs down from their chin to all the way down their shoulder.

The collar of the expendable’s wet suit is torn completely; black shreds of neoprene fray out from below the sternum. It's hard to tell the rubber from the darkened crimson spilling out from the brutal tear in the prisoners neck.

Z-90– the Wall Dweller, you determine. Recent too, if the wet shine on expendable's neck is anything to go off of. The considerably uneaten state of the body leads you to believe it might still be in the area, biding it's time until it can claim the expendable's companions as well.

Or, well, possibly even you…

With that thought in your mind, you crouch down, your hands roaming over surface of the expendable’s clothes for any other possible hidden goods. Sparing glances every so often behind you, straining your ears all the while, you’re cautious during your search.

Any research the expendable might have had is completely useless now, waterlogged with sticky blood and pasted to the body. Attempting to reach into the pockets only rewards you with a sharp jab in your palm, the tips of your fingers cold and wet with spilled vial fluids.

Withdrawing from the body, you finally stand back up to full height. The sudden rush to your head is enough to make you sway, your stomach starting to pinch from the overwhelming, metallic stench permeating the room. With a shaky exhale, you urge yourself forward.

The persistent stinging in your eyes doesn’t do any favors for you as you try and navigate the dimly lit halls of the facility, an incredibly sore ache pulsating in your feet with every step. You are… so tired.

A distant roar of an entity sounds suddenly, reverberating across multiple rooms and rocking the facility. The floor rumbles faintly below your feet, and you can almost barely make out the disorderly sound of blinking lights. Bracing yourself against a wall, you wait out the tremors.

Though exhaustion tugs at you, you acknowledge that you cannot rest here. The dark corners of the room whisper dangerous promises, and as you traverse the rooms you can’t shake off the ever persistent feeling of being watched.

Any human in this place is simply prey, and as you tuck your hands into the pockets of your tattered, beaten white coat, your mind rings out with a grim thought; if every human here is prey, you are high game.

Approaching the next door, the screen doesn’t label it with a number but instead a red line. Taking the keycard from your lanyard, you unlock the door, and step inside. Instead of being met with lockers and scattered drawers, you find yourself in a familiar office. The small room is crowded with desks, computers that have long since powered off, and fake potted plants that fill you with a bittersweet sense of longing. Tucked under the desks, the rusted office chair beckon you to rest, but you push the thought out.

There is no doubt in your mind that he is getting aggravated over the fact that you’ve taken this long already.

Behind the desks there is another door, bracketed by two item lockers long since rummaged through. It’s marked by another red line, but you already know where it leads.

The door opens with an exhale, the frigid air greeting you as you walk on through. Unlike the rooms before, this room is brightly lit, the florescent lights buzzing loudly. Your eyes burn momentarily from the sudden change, taking a moment to adjust. The hall is short this time, and in your view you see another door marked ‘50.’

Your bag is disappointingly light on your shoulders, only holding a gummy flashlight, a few batteries, and the black light you just found. You’re not looking forward to the condescending comments that awaits you behind that door.

Resigning to your fate with a heavy sigh, you begin to trudge forward, but stop short suddenly when you hear what sounds like a loud flash, followed by a furious shout and the rush of footsteps. You only have a split second to react, hastily throwing yourself into a locker, the clang of the metal door muted by the hissing of an opening door.

Laughter rings out in the room, accompanied by a multitude of heavy footfalls. The light peaking through the vent of the locker momentarily obscures as you count three expendables pass by, completely unaware of your presence. They are loud and boisterous, a harsh rhythmic squeak of their boots resounding as they run through the hall, the dull thuds of drawers being pulled out to their full extent in a fruitless endeavor to find more loot. They don’t stay long, and soon enough you hear the hydraulics of the door once more and the footsteps dissipate.

You wait a minute before exiting the locker, hurriedly making your way to the fiftieth door. There is a low, agitated hiss drawing out low from the ground, echoing through the tunnel next to your calf. Crouching down, you crawl on into the vent, your elbows clanging against the thin metal.

Emerging on the other side, you find yourself once more in the confinement of Sebastian’s shop. It’s possibly the smallest room in the facility, the walls looming over you in a claustrophobic fashion. Or, perhaps, it’s just overcrowded with stacked crates strewn about, the floor littered with various gadgets inoperable by you, and piles of paper files scattered across the floor. Your eyesight leads to probably the most useless thing in the room, roaming over the giant tail fin flicking against the wall and up the elongated tail it was attached to.

Sebastian is rubbing furiously at his eyes, lure blinking not dissimilarly to the way the room lights do when in the presence of Z-283. He’s grumbling low beneath his breath, mumbling incoherently between rushed clicks and growls.

When he’s done, he acknowledges your entrance with very little care,

“About time. Stock’s so low, I’ve had to sell half-charged flashlights to the last gaggle of idiots,” his arms drop, and he glares to you. “What the hell took you so long?”

The messenger bag drops from your shoulder with little care, the metal of the flashlights clinging with the floor through the thin material. You fix him with a similar expression to his, squinting up at him.

“Trying not to get caught, asshole. If you want shit sooner get it yourself next time.”

He chuckles sardonically at you.

“Please, I’ve got better things to do,” he responds. “You keep up your half of the deal, and I keep up mine.”

You roll your eyes pointedly, breaking away from the staring match when the brightness of his lure starts to cause dark spots to swim in your vision. Crouching down, you begin to rifle through the bag. He looks unimpressed at the pitiful amount of batteries you set beside yourself, but you do notice the room getting ever so slightly brighter when you pull out the black light.

“Just keep being a good little errand boy, and your efforts won’t go unpunished,” he purrs. You clench your teeth, face warming in anger.

“Oh yes, your part. Totally. I go out, digging around for junk, risking my neck to monsters and delinquent prisoners, while you get to sit in here and play retail worker,” you ramble, frustrated, rolling the gummy flashlight over to his general direction with a not too gentle shove. “Fairest trade in the world.”

Your heartbeat picks up ever so slightly as you feel a shadow cast over you, the bulb of Sebastian’s lure hanging overhead as he leans down towards you, slow. You urge yourself to keep his gaze and stay there as his smile stretches into a sharp grin, light glinting off the razor sharp fangs. His hand stretches towards you, and your shoulders jolt in a half-flinch as they reach towards your neck. You don’t look down from his eyes as his claws pull at your lanyard, the thin fabric brushing against the nape of your neck. Your eyebrows furrow as he pinches the card between his thumb and index, his claw sweeping over it’s laminated surface.

“Would you like to switch roles, ‘doctor?’”

You reach up, and promptly slap his hand away.

Instead of retaliating, Sebastian merely laughs at you.

“I didn’t think so,” he drawls, before slowly ascending back to full height, away from you.

The bag, now empty, sits lightly on your shoulder as you pull it over your head. It’s weight is nearly nonexistent. You approach one of the stacked storage containers and with a tired groan plop down, leaning back and stretching your legs out in front of you.

It’s instantaneous relief, you note, your joints popping in rapid succession of one another as you stretch your arms up, crossed at the wrists. Your shoulders are practically buzzing, no doubt having been pinched at some point during your venture in the facility. Your knees creak and ache from crawling through vents and desks, your legs stiff and feet beyond sore. After your stretch, you slump down in your seat with a sigh. Finally, you get to relax.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?”

Ugh.

“Resting, Sebastian.” You respond dryly. “I’m freaking tired, okay? Leave me be.”

Sebastian simply scoffs. You don’t acknowledge him as your eyes draw shut.

“Go somewhere else for that, I have a business to run.”

“And where do you suggest I go? Where is there that doesn’t have a wall dweller lurking or some other hellish atrocity waiting to get at me?” You argue, opening your eyes to challenge him with a glare.

“That isn’t my problem,” he leans down slightly, arms crossed and third arm tucked in awkwardly. “Leave before someone comes in.”

You mirror his pose, crossing your arms and tilting your chin up at him.

“Get out.”

You shuffle in place, legs crossing. Sebastian scowls, growling low in his throat. His arm shoots out, pointing to the vent and shouting.

“Get OUT!”

Your shoulders jump, but you’re stubborn. Drawing your arms around yourself tightly, you shout back.

“Screw you, man! There isn’t anyone coming!”

Sebastian hisses, the only warning you get before he darts down toward you, your arms pushed into your chest as he holds you in a tight grip, claws pinching your skin underneath the thin fabric of your coat.

He is directly in your face, eyes glowering at you as he spits,

“You absolute, goddamn MORON. If you do not LEAVE-”

He cuts himself off suddenly, and in your peripherals you catch the way the fins on the side of his head seem to twitch bizarrely. Soon you hear the pang of metal resounding off the walls of the vent and echoing into the room. With a quick, uttered curse, Sebastian quickly draws back, but he doesn’t let you go, instead pulling you up and with him.

Your arms sting in his hold, your face twisted in a grimace as suddenly your feet are no longer touching the ground. The weight of your body hangs as he effortlessly lifts you up.

“What the hell???” you wheeze. “Let me go!”

A cold hand slaps over your mouth harshly, clasping your face nearly entirely as Sebastian growls.

“Shut the hell Up!”

You get little warning as Sebastian all but stuffs you behind him, crowded by his tail. You try and leverage yourself with his tail, pushing up with your arms as your chest pressing uncomfortably against him. His tail coils and folds in response, pushing over your chest and weighing heavily till you fall back to the floor. The air punched out of your lungs, and you let out a strangled gasp. Panic seized you as you wriggled beneath him, writhing in place to try and breathe. Noticing your struggle, Sebastian lifts his tail ever so slightly, no longer crushing you. You jumped at the opportunity, attempting to sit up before Sebastian’s third arm came down, hand tangling into your hair and shoving you back down.

“Stay down,” he says, low, with a hint of a threat tracing the edges of his voice.

The weight of his hand on your head disappears, and you watch from behind him as his attitude immediately shifts from disgruntled to a calculated calm.

“Welcome, welcome!” he greets, near automatic and practically off a script. You cannot see who he is talking to from your position, but based off the sound of shuffling and whispers, you assume another group has just entered. “Don’t be afraid, I’m not gonna hurt you. Despite what you have seen, heard and/or been told, my name is Sebastian.”

He goes on with his typical spew, and you surrender to the solid weight laying over you. It’s a bit awkward for Sebastian, you realize, as he attempts to move along with his usual transactions now that the upper part of his tail is occupied keeping you hidden. You feel almost smug about it, counting it off as a win in the mentally constructed chart in your mind that keeps loose tabs on the constantly tipping scale between you and Sebastian. It’s not like you want to be seen by the expendables, as it risks the possibility of them reporting back to Urbanshade that one of their esteemed researchers were still alive down here and working against them with the active saboteur. Though, given how long you and Sebastian have spent down here, you highly doubt that is likely to happen anytime soon. The expendable project was a long going mission that has yet to bare any fruit.

As Sebastian drawls on, you can feel his voice reverberating through his tail. As much as you hate to admit it, the rumbling was soothing. The weight of him was less of a burden than it was before, instead it became rather pleasant in grounding you, not unlike a weighted blanket… and a cooled one, at that.

The transaction seemed to be dragging on longer than usual, or maybe that was just you. The events of the day quickly starting to catch up with you, slowing your perception of time as you stared up hazily at the ceiling, with Sebastian’s elbow and back occasionally coming into view. Pressing against the wall, you could feel the way the facility subtly rocked in the waters. Holding your ear to the ground, you could almost hear the ocean, the cold metal soothing against your flushed face.

You could barely make out the voices of the prisoners, and what you could you pieced together that they must be attempting to negotiate. Puffing under your breathe, you smiled, bidding them luck with that endeavor as your eyes drew shut.

When your eyes opened once more, the room was dark. You could no longer hear the prisoners, or even Sebastian for that matter. Lifting your head, you realized also that the weight over you seemed to have disappeared. Sebastian was no longer laying over you.

You couldn’t make out what was in front of you, but you still attempted to look around. Your thoughts were slow and disorientated, but slowly you discerned that you must have fallen asleep. How you managed in such an inconvenient expression, next to Sebastian of all things, you couldn’t fathom. You suppose you were more exhausted than you originally thought.

He must’ve moved you, you think. You could imagine the sneer he must’ve made at realizing you had fallen asleep. Where did he put you, exactly? You jostled awake fully at the thought that perhaps he threw you out in the cold, or simply dumped you in the nearest, darkest room to be preyed on by the experiments.

At this thought, you rushed to push yourself up with your hands, having awoken on your stomach. The floor was… odd in texture. It was rougher, not the smooth, biting cold metal that you were accustomed to. It was, also, ever so slightly warm. As you pushed against it, you noticed that while it was solid it also had a little give to it. Your mind reeled for answers, trying to piece together just exactly where or what you were laying on, when all of the sudden you realized you were moving. Or, more like, the ground was moving.

Your breath quickened as you slid ever so slightly down, and it registered finally that your legs weren’t supported by anything, instead hanging over an edge. Your thighs held together as your arms scrambled to hold on to whatever it was you were on, leaning forward with your face pressed up against something cool.

You could smell an an odd, distinct combination of what you could only describe as leather and fish. Cold air gently brushed down your forehead as you heard someone sigh.

Adjusting to the darkness, you could finally make out what was in front of you– or below you, rather.

Below you was a chest belonging only to Sebastian.

Clad in a white dress shirt and draped in a rough leather jacket, his chest rose steadily under you, raising you in tandem. Looking to his face, all three of his eyes were closed and you couldn’t make out his lure in the darkness. His expression was… peaceful. Relaxed. Despite this, you could see the dark crevices in his forehead and eyes, groves crafted and paved by long-term stress that he refused to let on existed. He was completely unguarded and vulnerable, and considering your position you concluded that he had willingly put himself there.

But why?

You couldn’t comprehend it. Maybe it was a mistake? You had never seen him asleep before… Given all of the traits he was spliced with, you wondered how long he could really go without sleep? Maybe he slept when you were gone? That wouldn’t make sense. He’s a research-fiend by nature, he’d never let a potential customer pass him by.

However, looking more closely, you took in his features. Unlike the rest of his body, his face was smoother; More akin to a human. Between his eyes and on the bridge of his nose, there was a very faint line– barely noticeable even in the light– a paler blue than the surrounding skin. A scar he had when he first came into the facility as a convict. As a human…

You doubt even Sebastian could reject the very notion of sleep. Beneath it all– the razor sharp teeth, the blue scales, and thin web veils on his ears and clawed fingers, you never stopped believing that he was human. You doubt he did, either.

It still didn’t make sense for you to be here, but that didn’t matter, because there was the definite possibility of him screaming at you when he woke up and saw you there in despite of his protests.

You gently tried to creep down, stretching your leg and trying to feel the ground with your toe. You stretched and stretched, flexing your foot before realizing that even at this angle you couldn’t feel the floor. You were up too damn high. Looking down, you could hardly make out the messy floor.

In the midst of your struggling, you felt a rumble pass through you from Sebastian’s chest. His hands, which you hadn’t at first noticed were resting on your hips, slowly caressed over your back before stopping at your shoulders. You laid there, frozen, peaking cautiously up at Sebastian to see he was, thankfully, still asleep.

Your situation got that much more difficult, you realized, as his arms laid heavy over your back and prevented you from moving any further without disturbing the serpent, likely into waking.

Huffing a sigh, you relented.

You still couldn’t see very well in the darkness, and you would no doubt sprain something trying to dismount Sebastian. He’s so cranky awake, you don’t want to imagine what he’d be like shorted a few hours of beauty sleep.

And as much as you loathed to admit it, the position wasn’t… uncomfortable. You felt warm, but not stuffy despite the room. Sebastian was like a pillow with two cold sides, and you discovered that as you sunk back down into him, that his skin seemed to absorb your heat.

You shut your eyes.

There was no point in struggling to leave, or worrying about Sebastian’s reaction right now. Bottom line is, you could go for a couple more minutes of rest. Chances are Sebastian would tell you to hop right back to work first opportunity he got, so you might as well take advantage of the situation.

Your breathing slowed, and as you relaxed you could just barely make out a very soft rumbling crackle coming from Sebastian’s chest, reminiscent of a cat’s purr. His fingers absently curled over your shoulders, the weight of them strong and comforting. You could get used to this, you thought, and didn’t bother to fight against the absurd belief as your thoughts slowed down, sleep creeping in.

A shrill scream roars outside, and the body beneath you jolts violently, jostling you in the process. You hear lights flicker discordantly, before hushing entirely.

You don’t dare to open your eyes as you feel Sebastian move under you, hearing him exhale loudly. From behind the lids of your eyes, you notice the room get slightly brighter. Sebastian is awake.

You brace yourself to be grabbed, or even thrown, as his claws curl that much tighter over your shoulders. But that doesn’t happen.

His hands go lax, and you feel him sink back down, his third arm coming to rest over your lower back. The upper arms gently soothe down your back before brushing back up. Your brows furrow in confusion when a hand rests on your head, combing through your hair.

Warm breath ghosts over you as he leans down with a sigh, arms pulling you further up his body as his chin sets down over your head.

You dare to peek your eyes open, met with the light blue hue of Sebastian’s neck, gaze tracing over the smooth transition between human skin and scales. You feel Sebastian’s clawed hand leave your scalp, once more joining it’s counterpart in soothing up and down your back, the third hand picking at the frayed edges of your shirt.

You can see the bob of Sebastian’s throat as he swallows, coughing lightly in an attempt to clear his throat. His nose presses ever so slightly further into your hair, and you have to suppress the sudden need to jump when the third hand traces up your back, under your shirt.

Your hands brace against him, ready to launch yourself upward and ask just what the hell he is doing, before acknowledging that his hand doesn’t go any further than that. You decide to wait it out, see what he does. Maybe you can catch him doing something embarrassing, and use it as leverage in your next argument. Another point to your metaphorical score.

The other arms continue to stroke over your back, albeit more slowly, as his third hand continues to trail up your spine, leaving a path of goose bumps. The hair of your back raises at the temperature change. His hand is freaking cold. Colder than the rest of his body. Why is that?

As this continues, you feel him slump ever so slightly, all three of his hands slowing to a stop. His chest evens out once more, and you realize, he is asleep.

The hand under your shirt has become significantly warmer, and that is when you realize; Sebastian is cold blooded.

Well, you didn’t just realize, you knew this from the start. It explained his bizarre actions though, and as you took in your position you pieced together you were no different than a weighted blanket you accused his tail of being not long ago. A heated rock for his comfort. Like a snake or lizard basking in a lamplight, you were his source of heat.

Your mouth twitched into a smile. You were totally going to hold this over his head.

[igbylicious]

under the new moon [yunsan x reader]

pairing: yunho x f reader x san

rating: 18+

genre: werewolf au, smut, hurt / comfort

summary: an altercation with a hunter leaves you wounded, trapped in an aggressive frenzy, but Yunho and San know exactly how to safely bring you back home to them.

wc: 2.9k

general warnings: established relationship, supernatural werewolf strength for everyone, she/her pronouns for reader, pov switches, mentions of blood & injury, reader killed a werewolf hunter in self-defense, a pinch of angst, reader is literally feral and tries to fight yunsan first, they calm you down w/ sex yay

smut warnings: dom Yunho & San, feral sub reader, rough sex, manhandling, scratching, choking, biting, breeding kink, belly bulge, they got big dicks ofc, cum inflation, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, knotting, DP (vaginal & vaginal / anal), vaginal / anal fingering, bodily fluids as lube, unprotected sex, pet names (good girl, darling)

a/n: idk yall, it’s not even themed for the mv i don’t know what happened??? maybe it was San’s fur coat maybe it was just the wolf living in my chest cavity. either way this was written in an unedited frenzy in the dark hours of the night, have fun! ( ˘ ³˘)♡

The forest is dark. Only stars shine overhead, the new moon casting no light on the trees and underbrush. Two large wolves prowl through woods, their path guided by the thick, metallic scent of blood.

The forest is quiet. Even during a new moon, its wildlife knows better than to cross the two predators. Even when unable to tap into the full height of their powers, they are dangerous.

Even more so when they are agitated with anger — and worry.

Yunho sniffs at the blood streaked over the bark of a felled tree. It’s still fresh. It’s yours.

San whines in concern, pressing his snout into Yunho’s neck to hurry him along. His black fur makes him near invisible in the cover of night, yellow eyes shining in the darkness. Usually the younger wolf is too rash, but tonight his impatience is justified. They don’t know how badly wounded you are. How much time you still have.

They found the hunter about two miles back, or what was left of him. Torn apart; a gaping hole in his abdomen opened by furious claws, his neck shredded by sharp teeth. (Deservedly so, Yunho had thought with quiet rage, when he saw a bloodied spearhead by the hunter’s side. The wooden shaft was shattered to pieces.)

Your trail leads them deeper and deeper into the forest, the night cold doing its best to penetrate Yunho’s thick silver fur. He tries to keep his head clear, to focus on finding you. He can’t afford to be distracted now, not by anger, not by fear, not by guilt.

It was a mistake, to let you go off on your own tonight. He knew the pack would be vulnerable tonight, he knew the human village nearby has been restless.

But Yunho can punish himself for his regrets later, because he also knows two other truths; the blood is still fresh, and you are strong.

They will find you. Alive. They will.

San growls in frustration when your bloody trail dissolves into a shallow river, the scent lost. The two wolves shift back into their human forms, wrapped in large fur cloaks, the ones they can take with them even when they turn. San’s pitch black, Yunho’s streaked with silver, matching the colour of their fur; and now their hair.

“She’s close,” San murmurs lowly, restless as he looks around the seemingly abandoned forest. “I can feel her.”

You are close. Closer than either of them realised.

The underbrush rustles, and San doesn’t even have the chance to blink before a shape pounces him from the shadows, snarling wildly. San curses as bloodied nails claw at his face, and he grabs at his assailant to hold them at bay — to hold you at bay.

Yunho’s eyes widen at the sight of you, feral and growling; your body human, but pure primal aggression in your mind. Fur cloak tattered, skin covered in scratches and bruises, an ugly gash on your shin. The injury does nothing to slow you down, momentum and surprise on your side as you pin San to the ground.

Yunho swears under his breath, leaping forward to help San to subdue you.

Fuck. You went too deep.

Had to push yourself too hard under this new moon, dug too deep for the power you needed to survive. Your wolf has overtaken you; and she is too frenzied to recognise friend from foe. To recognise her mates.

You yowl when Yunho grabs you by the scruff, yanking you away from San. You instantly turn on Yunho, scratching at his chest while you try to bite at the hand on your neck.

“San,” he grunts, hissing at the red marks your nails leave on his skin. “Now.”

San throws himself around you, pressing against your back as he grabs your wrists and locks his arms around your waist, engulfing you in his black furs. You snap at him, teeth flashing, but Yunho’s hand slips around your throat and he forces you to face him.

“Calm. Down,” Yunho growls, his own wolf instinctively rearing up against yours.

You can’t calm down. You can’t. Something is familiar about the two figures surrounding you, their scent like an itch in your memory — but it can’t penetrate the feral haze that’s taken over your mind. Your wolf trashes against their hold, howling danger, pain searing through your injured leg.

The bleeding has stopped by now, your regenerative powers feeding off your frenzy, but no matter how you struggle, you aren’t strong enough to break free from the two men and their strangely enticing smells. The hand on your throat tightens, your growls forced down to a weak wheeze as your body sags in their hold.

“Good. Good girl.” The hand relaxes, but does not release you entirely. Slowly they go down on their knees and lower you to the mossy forest ground, keeping you propped up between them. Long fingers brush up against a scarred patch of skin in the crook of your neck, and sudden heat lashes through you at the touch, drawing a sharp moan.

The one behind you groans and presses his nose into your hair, breathing in deeply. “Yunho…” he rasps, pulling you closer into him. Familiar name. Familiar scents. Familiar touch, fire licking sharply at your core. He is naked under his furs, same as you — and the growing hardness that twitches against your lower back is not unknown to you either. “F-fuck, she’s…”

“Yeah,” Yunho murmurs, rubbing his fingers into the mating bite he left on your skin years ago. “Her body remembers who she belongs with. Come, Sannie, let’s help her mind remember too.”

He pushes your tattered furs away to drop on the ground, and San takes immediate advantage to lap at his own newly exposed mark on your shoulder. You jolt in his hold, your wolf pulled in two directions. Yunho instantly tightens his grip again when you snarl and try to bite at San again — but he can smell your other, stronger instincts flare to life. His free hand finds wet slick when it slides between your thighs, a strangled whine torn from your obstructed throat.

San whines at the soft squelch when two of Yunho’s long fingers press inside you. Relief and hunger melt together inside him. You’re safe, back in his arms. They will take care of you now.

A primal need stirs in San’s blood as his teeth scrape over your skin, suckling at his old mating bite like his tongue can tease the memories out of you. Maybe it can. Or maybe it won’t be enough — maybe he needs to fuck them out of you. He groans, feeling dizzy on your scent, and ruts harder against your backside.

You’re trembling, gasping sharply as you’re pushed deeper on Yunho’s fingers by San’s humping. Every noise only fuels San’s need to fill you up, to ram his cock into your leaking hole until his knot catches, reminding your sweet cunt how the shape of him was made to fit inside you.

“Wanna touch…” he groans, gathering your wrists in one hand so he can reach down the other. Weakly you squirm against his hold; but it’s barely a fight, your aggressive haze subdued by your two mates.

Yunho grunts at the sight; he can’t deny it, his wolf preens at your submission. An animalistic urge to claim you, like he’s mating you for the first time all over again. Blood rushes down to his cock, revelling in your whimpers when San pushes another finger into your sopping cunt alongside his.

He watches how your stomach tenses and your thighs shake, telltale signs of a budding release, and he knows damn well his hand on your throat has long become unnecessary. He does not take it away.

Instead Yunho tilts up your head and he leans in, slotting his lips over yours. He groans when your lips part willingly for him, desirous for your mates. You whine as Yunho filthily licks into your mouth, adding another finger as he and San stretch you open for them. They’ll both take you tonight. Together. It hasn’t been said, but Yunho knows that San also knows this.

Mindlessly you grind into the fingers opening you up. You pant into the heated lips pressed against yours, a greedy tongue mapping out the wet cavern of your mouth. Wanton moans spill freely, growing louder with every added finger to your twitching cunt. Every time you think this must be your limit, and every time they prove you wrong, sending your head spinning.

You’re chasing something, barely knowing what it is, but hunting it down with every buck of your hips all the same. Something familiar again, pulling taut inside your aching cunt. It pulls, pulls, tighter and sharper until finally the strings snap. You cry out a ragged yowl as electrified heat tears you asunder, convulsing in the strong arms that hold you up.

You don’t even notice those hungry lips pulling away from your mouth — not until two sets of teeth sink deep into your shoulder and neck, into those two scarred spots that make your heart sing like it can finally come home.

With a wretched sob you clutch onto them, your hands finally released from San’s iron grip. He presses rough, reverent kisses against the broken skin of your shoulder, clumsy with urgency as he slips his fingers out of your cunt and grabs onto your waist. He barely waits for Yunho to pull his hand away, too frenzied to finally sink his cock into the wet hole where it belongs.

Yunho chuckles with dark fondness at San’s impatience, running his slick fingers through San’s hair as he presses a kiss on his matted forehead. “That’s it. Show her,” he whispers, and San whines at the encouragement, fingers digging harder into the meat of your hips.

“Y-you too,” he grunts tightly, strained as the last shreds of self-control slip through his grasp. “Our mate— she needs you too.”

Yunho hums in acknowledgement, pressing another kiss on San’s forehead before he pulls back. He takes your arms and loops them around his neck, and his cock twitches at how pliantly you let him move you, nuzzling into his chest. Still trapped in your delirious haze, but your wolf tamed and rendered docile by their command over your pleasure, willingly surrendering you to them.

You whine beautifully, your glistening folds parting to make way when Yunho guides his thick cock inside your loosened cunt. For all their efforts to stretch you open, both of them are big, and Yunho groans when he sees how your stomach bulges as he presses deeper inside. He takes San’s hand and guides it so he can feel the swell of them in your belly.

And something snaps inside of San.

He bares his teeth with a wild snarl, bucking his hips as he fucks into you recklessly. Fresh bites litter your shoulders, future bruises forming under his grip on your waist. You’re jostled by his rough thrusts, whimpering loudly as you claw at Yunho’s shoulders.

Yunho growls at the sting of your nails, meeting San’s violent pace. You’re moaning helplessly against his chest, hiccuping soft “ah ah ahh”s as they hit deep inside your needy, sopping cunt.

“Gonna fill you up,” San growls, lost in his frenzy. “Fill that belly with every drop of seed we got. Not gonna stop until we got you stuffed and bred. Won’t even know whose litter it is, won’t even matter. Ours, you’re ours.”

You whine in mindless agreement, trembling between them.

“You like that, hm? Like the thought of carrying our pups?” Yunho chuckles, though it comes out more a groan. You’re still so tight around him, San’s cock sliding against his in the snug space they made for themselves inside you. “You remember who you belong with now?”

His last question causes a hesitation in your squirmy moans, but it only spurs Yunho on harder. He can’t feel his knot begin to swell yet, so he just slams into you, drowning in every wet squelch of your leaking hole, only needing a few hard thrusts before he groans and spills inside you. Yunho hisses when San does not slow down — but his own cock does not soften yet. This night is far from over.

San moans at the smoother slide as he fucks Yunho’s seed deeper inside your hole. It does not take him long to follow, his hand on your stomach feeling every thrust as he buries himself into you, hips stuttering when he comes with a low growl. He pants against your shoulder, nosing at his mating bite, barely even slowing down through his release. Yunho starts moving again too, drawing fresh moans from your lips.

You feebly gurgle something against Yunho’s chest, the foggy haze in your mind consisting of nothing but white-hot pleasure now.

It’s overwhelming and yet you can’t get enough of it; addicted to the stretch, to the fullness that grows every time they cum inside you, until you can’t take more, their seed leaking out past their thick lengths and bubbling at the rim. You’re losing count, just as you’ve lost count of all the times you’ve clenched around them, milking their cocks as another orgasm was ripped from your worn-out cunt.

You can’t tell anymore where you end and where they begin, their hands and cocks melded into your body — until one hand wanders, first down to your sodden folds to slick up his fingers, then back to your ass. You whine as a thick finger eases past the tight muscle; but your body is so pliant and relaxed, melting away in the haze of pleasure, and soon the slight burn only makes you greedy for more.

San groans when you weakly press your ass back into him, two fingers now working you open, and then another. He will knot soon, he can feel it pulsing at the base of his cock; and no matter how well they stretched you out, they will break you if they both knot in your cunt.

But San does not mind taking your ass instead — he can feel the beautiful swell of your stomach, distended from the sheer amount of cum that you took so well from them. He did his part there, now happy to bury himself between your plump asscheeks.

You whimper when San pulls out, a sudden emptiness at the loss of him, but bite down a gasp when he pushes back inside your other hole. His cock is slick with cum, smoothly continuing his rough pace.

Yunho sighs contently at the loose and easy slide of your cunt, using this chance to fuck harder into you. He guides you to sit upright, cupping your chin to steady you. He tilts your head up, giving himself a good look at the blissed-out expression on your face. Nothing but empty pleasure behind your teary eyes, all your earlier fear and aggression wiped clean. Leaving yourself vulnerable and exposed between them, knowing you are safe here. That you can let it all go.

“Got one more for us, darling?” he grunts, trying to hold back a little longer. “Show us how good we make you feel?”

The words come to you through a thick fog, but you heed them all the same. You can’t help it, not when nimble fingers suddenly press against your clit, pinching at the swollen, oversensitive nub. Your entire body seizes up with a strangled cry, and you sob at the pure, overwhelming fullness as two knots swell up inside you, plugging both your holes.

You’re shaking, tears spilling down your cheeks as you slowly come down. Four hands move warmly over your body; rubbing your back, your shoulders, the distinct swell of your belly. One of those hands cups your cheek, lifting you up to meet a pair of shiny brown eyes.

Yunho’s eyes.

He smiles tiredly with rounded cheeks, long fingers gently caressing your jaw. Your breath catches at the recognition, staring back at him with wide eyes before you whip your head to look back. There, San gives you a slow, satisfied grin, his cheeks flushed and sweat beading on his forehead.

Relief breaks through your haze, and the sudden outpouring of emotion is too much for you to carry.

San startles when you hiccup a weak sob, and he immediately presses soothing kisses on the scattered bites he left on your shoulder. “Hey, hey, it’s alright. We’re here,” he murmurs. “We got you.”

“I know, I know” you snivel, grateful for Yunho carefully wiping away your tears. “You found me. I knew you’d find me.”

“Of course we found you,” Yunho smiles as he gently rubs his thumb over your cheekbone. “You wouldn’t let us lose you. You always find your way back to us.”

Your shoulder shake silently as their arms wrap around you, engulfing you in their body heat. You slump into their solid, strong frames and relish how they’re still connected inside you. It will take time for their knots to come down, and they fully intend to use every second of it to lavish you with tender affection. You sink away into the comfort of them, knowing you are safe and home again.

[webanglikethat]

Inho and Gihun have consumed my brain: a rant.

their dynamic is absolutely insane, like watching two halves of a broken mirror slowly shift toward each other, each reflecting something so raw, so !! unbearably !!! human !!!

they are opposites in the most obvious way: one, a cold-blooded killer who thrives on power, privilege, and pain (though they both come from a similar background); the other, a man haunted by his own humanity, stubbornly holding on to the last shred of his moral compass, believing in a better life, a greater future.

but it’s the tension between them that burns — the way they orbit each other, drawn together by something darker than either of them is willing to admit. and it drives me insane, insane I tell you.

Inho studies Gihun like a predator; he is disguised as an ally, draped in the mask of sympathy and empathy, but every moment spent with him … it’s like watching a snake move through tall grass, its every flicker of movement calculated, controlled and designed to ensnare, trap, conquer, destroy. he watches his every more, everything he does and he doesn’t do. it’s a real time dissection !! he watches Gihun's cracks, his weaknesses, his flickers of anger and despair. every subtle movement doesn’t escape him.

he needs to see that part of him, the part that’s been broken, the part that still hurts. and in a way, he’s intoxicated by it. it’s like he wants to drink from those wounds, to feel the sharp, stinging taste of anguish on his tongue, to experience that pulse of pain, just so he can savor it, dissect it, and make it his own.

he watches Gihun not because he’s merely intrigued, but because in his suffering, in his brokenness, there is beauty. a beauty that can only be savored when torn apart, shredded, dissected, bruised. and the more he watches, the more he feeds on that agony, the deeper he falls into the nightmare of this endless fucking twisted game.

Inho is too far gone. he’s lived through the games, seen how the system works, and he’s embraced it without shame. to him, the so called “blood money” he earned is a truth. he doesn’t hide from it. he doesn’t pretend it’s anything else. he has seen too many bodies pile up to think there’s any other way. Inho believes the only way forward is through destruction. he’s accepted the curse of the games. hell, he’s fucking embraced it ! the lives lost are nothing more than fuel for his ascent to power. people are pawns, and pawns don’t matter. it’s all part of the game.

Gihun, though… he’s not like Inho. he too has been brutalized by the games, crushed under the weight of the world’s cruelty, watching as the lives of those he loved dimmed. BUT! even so !! there’s this flicker of light in him — a really fucking stubborn and desperate hope to protect those who still live, to undo the wrongs. for all the pain he’s endured, he hasn’t completely surrendered to the darkness. he’s been pushed, stretched to the breaking point by the horrors he’s witnessed, by the blood shed that he can never wash away and still lingers even in his dreams … but there’s this part of him that still fights to hold on to the fragments of the man he used to be. he’s so stubbornly human.

and yet, it’s not the break that Inho is after imo — it’s the collapse. he doesn’t just want to see Gihun’s humanity crack; he wants to see him fold. he wants to make him question everything, even his need to protect others, even the value of his own moral code. to descend into madness, forsaking logic.

you can see him being fascinated when Gihun agrees to sacrifice people for the greater good. I swear, you can see Inho alive in that moment. I can’t explain it other than he’s feeding on him. he’s watching this man, so different from him, with scars that shine the same way, who once held onto some semblance of hope, succumb to the same darkness that devoured him.

he wants to see the man who refused to let the games destroy him finally fall into the same dark logic that built those games in the first place.

but here’s the thing — Gihun’s resistance, his refusal to just surrender to Inho's desires, drives him insane. Inho, for all his power, for all his twisted thrill at orchestrating this, isn’t immune to that same hunger. he sees Gihun as both a reflection and a challenge. it torments him. he wants to unravel him from the inside. the more he watches, the more he understands just how much it is tearing at him, how much he wants it.

there is a tenderness to it, a chilling, perverse tenderness, where one offers the illusion of safety while the other inches closer to the slaughter.

what drives me insane is that Gihun doesn’t know. he doesn’t know that the man he’s grown to trust, the one who’s quietly listened to his every confession, who has offered him that flicker of human connection in the desolate wasteland of the games, is the very demon he’s been chasing. the one that has orchestrated every nightmare he’s endured. and every time Gihun speaks of his mission, of his burning desire to kill the one who created this nightmare, to undo the games and get revenge Inho just listens intently, relishing in every moment of vulnerability.  and it’s delicious. Gihun is literally unraveling before him, piece by piece, and Inho hasn’t even revealed the true extent of his power!

the betrayal scene is going to be so good. SO FUCKING GOOD. it’s when Gihun talks about revenge, when he plans to end the game, to kill the person behind it all, that Inho feels that twisted thrill in his chest. because what Gihun doesn’t realize is that all those plans, all those quiet declarations of death, have been heard and they’ve been absorbed, broken down, and processed. Inho already knows what Gihun is capable of, what he’s willing to do, and how far he’s willing to go to get his revenge. it doesn’t matter to Inho. it never has. he’s already five steps ahead. Inho has studied Gihun like a surgeon carving through flesh, patiently unraveling his soul, savoring each fragile thread of hope only to tighten the noose, knowing that the moment Gihun’s trust shatters, so too will his humanity.

-> and like … Gihun’s humanity is his greatest weakness. his desperate hope to protect, to save, to make things right when he couldn’t before (example: in season 1 when a dying man reached for him and he looked away, in season 2 he helped a dying man) that's what Inho sinks his teeth into, because he knows that in this world, hope is the ultimate poison, the biggest gamble. every moment Gihun spends clinging to the idea that he can save anyone, that he can stop the game — that he can stop The Frontman — it draws him closer to the truth that will eventually shatter him.

and imo — Inho watches him with a twisted admiration, because in that desperate struggle, he sees himself or rather, the version of him that could’ve been if he had not embraced the game so fully. and in that, their paths, though seemingly different, are always converging. they are the same in the most brutal way: two sides of a coin, both marked by the same blood, the same violence, the same emptiness, and in the end, they are not so different after all. for all their differences, in the end — they are mirrors.

addition cause I saw this post and omg ?? it’s an intentional, almost possessive move. he’s not just playing along with their conversation; he’s LITERALLYYY replacing Jungbae with himself in Gihun’s mind, stepping into the role of someone who belongs in Gihun’s future.

Inho doesn’t just want power or control over the situation — he wants needs Gihun to need him, to see him as the one who’s always there, the one who understands him, the one who can stand beside him.

and to me, it feels like a possessive kind of longing that goes beyond mere rivalry or control. it’s ugh — just the way they orbit around each other, the way Inho needs Gihun to acknowledge him, to see him as more than just the “other guy that joined my team”.

and as much as Gi-hun is fighting to hold on to his humanity and the relationships that matter to him, Inho is just as desperately fighting to be the one that Gihun turns to in the end. it’s obsessive. it’s possessive. it’s dangerously romantic and I need them to fuck it out.

[madame-fear]

*ೃ༄ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐒𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒 .ೃ࿐

.·:¨༺ [ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟎𝟓 | 𝐚 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐲 ] ༻¨:·.

— summary : (y/n) Velaryon is Lucerys' aunt, Laenor's close cousin, and Vaemond's daughter. Lucerys nurtures a deep love and admiration for her Velaryon way of being, making him fall hard for his aunt, unaware his feelings are mutual. But how will their relationship be shaken when her father tries to claim himself as the true heir of Driftmark? — requested? : yes, by my beloved @faces-ofvenus ♡ — word count : 2.8k

— pairing : lucerys velaryon x velaryon! aunt! reader — genre : fluff, romance, family drama

TW | mentions of incest content (aunt-nephew mutual crushing).

ೃ⁀➷ Read Chapter One ೃ⁀➷ Read Chapter Two ೃ⁀➷ Read Chapter Three ೃ⁀➷ Read Chapter Four ೃ⁀➷ Read Chapter Five [ FINAL ]

“I wish to secretly marry you without, and have our relationship be officially sealed under the eyes of the Seven. I want you to be my true Lady of the Tides.”

As his words came from his lips, you felt your surrounding suddenly stop. With widen eyes, you tried to rearrange your wild, continous train of messed thoughts only to bring yourself back to reality in an attempt to comprehend whether this was actually happening, or you were merely imagining the entite situation.

With a few blinks, you lightly furrowed your eyebrows, and a shaky sigh rolled from your lips, as you stared deep into his hazel eyes. “Luke, d-do you...” the words hesitated briefly, as they tried to come out of your mouth; your hands that he gently held trembled lightly with nerves. “Do you really mean it?” you inquired, not knowing really what to say. “Do you truly wish to marry me... in secret?” you continued, feeling your heart thumping loudly out of your chest, much like his own.

Without another word, he nodded his head, and his grip on your delicate hands tightened a bit. “I do, and you have no idea how much I have longed at the thought of marrying you someday.” the look on his eyes seemed true, and genuine — which brought a broad grin on your eyes. What you always thought it'd be a mere fantasy in your mind, was slowly becoming true, even though you were anxious at the thought of when, and how the wedding will happen without anyone finding out.

“B-But, if you do not wish to go this far, then I will understa–” suddenly pulling your hands from his grip and cupping his soft pinkish cheeks, you pressed a tender kiss on the corner of his lips, stopping him from continuing to talk. A little smirk formed on his own rosy lips as you spoiled him with loving affection, and then pulled away from him leisurely, staring deep into his hazel eyes. “I have always wanted to marry you, Lucerys. More than you'd ever know.” the previous small smirk formed on his lips, rapidly turned into a goofy grin at hearing your words, and the way you admiringly stared into his eyes with genuine love.

A sigh escaped your lips, and the smile you had dropped faintly. “The problem is...” you continued, gazing at the ground thoughtfully, making him furrow his eyebrows concerned as his own hands searched for yours. “How will we be able to have our own wedding ceremony in secret without anybody finding out about it?” at your question, an exhaled scoff grasped away from his lips, with a grin forming back. Oh, you were so, so clueless at all the things he had planned for you.

“You need not to worry, princess.” lucerys reassured in a low tone, with his hand brushing off a strand of hair that covered your face, tucking it behind your ear. “I have meticuously planned everything for us, with the best of hopes you'd agree to my proposal.” a little dumb grin formed on your lips at hearing his words, while he leaned down closer to you, and pecked your forehead in the most loving way he ever did. “The least I want you to do, is worry. For now, I want you to put on your best white dress, and meet me at Arrax's dragonpit.”

His hand caressed your cheek tenderly one last time as he stared into your eyes, and you gave him a single nod with your head — the goofy, enthusiastic grin remaining on your lips as he pecked your lips, and turned around to leave your room — giving you one last joyful look and a wink — without giving you the chance to respond anything, leaving you there giggling to yourself like a little girl, and flustering intensely.

It was quite unbelievable, the situation. After having yearned for it for so long — and previously encountering yourself with a brief deception —, the moment was finally there. Lucerys proposed marriage to you, and you accepted in a heartbeat. Though it would be a secret relationship, you both knew how to deal with this, and... besides, you were equally with your head on the clouds for each other. You wouldn't waste such opportunity to be together, even if hidden from the public view.

🐉❤🐉❤🐉❤🐉❤🐉❤🐉❤🐉❤

From the moment Lucerys left to make his way to Arrax's dragonpit and wait for you in there, it didn't take you long to rush to your wardrobe, and look for the most dazzling white dress you had.

The dress you chose seemed to be strangely appropiate for the situation, even though you never thought about marrying someone else, nor imagined marrying Lucerys other than in your fantasies — though, it was gifted to you by none other than Rhaenyra herself. The dress had a high neck, it was beautifully embroidered with both Velaryon and Targaryen symbolism all over it, along with some resembling dragon's scales on it's shoulders, and it contained small, and delicately shining pearls plus other transparent gems alike.

The jewellery you chose was appropiate for the dress, and the setting of the occasion. Your hanging diamond earrings and the golden seahorse necklace matched with the embroidered gems in your very own dress. Along with it, came a white, transparent veil — though, your face remained uncovered by it. And without adding anything else, you made your way out of your own chambers.

The footstepping coming from you was delicate amongst the silently cold halls, and they were as graceful as they could ever be, while you guided yourself towards the passage you always took to reach the beachside of Dragonstone, and eventually get to Arrax's dragonpit.

The path you took was rather quick, and as you walked down the large path that took you to the beachside, the nightly wind was as cool and relaxing as it always was. The fresh scent of the sea waves that clashed constantly against the rocks invaded your nostrils, and brought you a chilling sense of calm to the nerves that grew on you at the idea of your little secret wedding ceremony with Lucerys.

Having reached the beachside and then the dragonpit, you gracefully walked over Lucerys — seeing the Velaryon boy petting the pearly coloured dragon's nostrils ever so gently with his hand while being on his dragonriding clothes, and turning his gaze at you when he noticed Arrax delightfully huffing at the mere sight of you.

They say, dragons can feel their riders emotions; and Arrax proved it right there when he roared and huffed joyfully at the same time Lucerys turned his eyes to stare at you, walking with all your grace in a mesmerising shining dress that matched the veil in your hair, both slightly flowing to the sides as your clothing was being delicately hit by the wind.

His green eyes widened with being dazzled at the sight of you, and along with that, came an intensified crimson fluster to his cheeks. Luke was truly at loss of words when seeing how beautiful you were — Seven Hells, even more preciously beautiful than he always imagine you'd look like in wedding dressing. A dreamy sigh escaped from his lips, as well as a goofy grin while you approached.

“(y/n)...” luke began speaking, with his voice tone sounding notoriously dumbfounded. His eyes scanned at you up and down. “You seem... even more beautiful than I expected.” a certain glint of pride was heard on his voice. Of course, he was to marry you, the prettiest Lady of all of the Seven Kingdoms. Any boy would be jealous of him. At his complimenting, you briefly lowered your gaze in shyness, trying to hide the notorious forming blush as an awkward smile returned to your lips and your earrings jingled to your movements.

“And... you look as handsome as ever, Lucerys.” you retorted, managing to lift your sight, and stare into his bright hazel eyes, both of you noticing the fluster smeared on your cheeks. The words got stuck on his throat, being completely aghasted at your grace, leaving him with mere stuttering until he managed to briefly speak up. “A-Are you ready to come with me?” clearing his throat, he began speaking up with a soothing tone. “I have planned something for our ceremony... with the help of Jace, of course.” trying to ease his nerves, he joked and chuckled at himself, making you giggle as well.

“Of course I am ready to whatever you have prepared for us, my love.” you replied, approaching him, and kissing the corner of his lips. Earning a stupidly shy, head over heels grin from him, while he followed you from behind while you walked towards his dragon. Afterwards, Lucerys helped you get on top of Arrax in a very delicate way, only for him to get right in front of you once you were settled, and taking the reins of the yet to fully grow dragon. Your arms were wrapped around his body, and your cheek was tightly pressed against his body. A keen sigh escaped your lips.

“Soves, Arrax!” though you had very little understanding in the High Valyrian language, you were certain that Luke commanded for Arrax to fly, as he immediatly began flapping his wings, and ascending into the nightly sky. You, who had never ridden a dragon before, held a tight grip around Lucerys's body as the rapidly gusting wind hit your face, giving you a sense of liberty. A sense of liberty you had never felt, not even when travelling across the sea waves; especially knowing that, you'd now be able to have Lucerys as yours, officially.

Though you were a bit afraid when Arrax fully flew through the skies flying above the ocean — and Lucerys could tell —, you eventually began to feel more comfortable with the strangely new sensation it provoked on you. Previously, your body was slightly stiff, but leisurely, you began relaxing more while Luke guided Arrax somewhere you weren't fully aware of yet... but a very special place, indeed. The hair smoothly flew both your hairs, and your dress flew gracefully against the cool breeze, and Luke could tell you had began to enjoy your very first dragonride. It was a perfect moment to admire, until eventually, you spotted a vast land in sight. More especifically, a flower field, where you could spot a large greenish dragon, realising it was Vermax, and... Jacaerys, as well. Arrax then delicately landed on the ground of the flower field, huffing joyfully, as his wing flapping motion leisurely stopped. The moonlight reflected it's brightness upon the flower petals, and upon your shining jewellery.

Getting off the dragon's back, Lucerys then offered his hand to help you get off as well, to which you gladly took, and got down. A smile appeared on your lips at noticing Jace staring at you with a broad grin, and you greeted each other with a single head bow.

“You look tremendously gorgeous, (y/n).” jace complimented kindly, as he stood in his dragonriding clothing as well, with both his hands being posed in front of his body while holding a grand, black book. Releasing a chuckle at his kind compliments, the crimson fluster intensified on your cheeks. “Thank you, Jace.” you retorted lowly, as Luke took off his riding gloves, held your hand, and gently walked the you in front of his elder brother. His green eyes would not leave your entire self, admiring you up and down with utter admiration. He was dumbfounded by you, and thrilled at the thought of finally marrying you, like he had always dreamed of.

“I apologise for not having prepared a more fitting ceremony preparation. I-I was rather afraid you'd say no to my proposal, quite honestly...” luke mumbled in a low, slightly embarrassed whisper that accompanied the pink tint on his cheeks, while Lucerys stood now in front of you, and held both of your hands ever so delicately. Leaning closer to him, you placed a tender kiss on the corner of his lips with a vast smile at how adorable, and truly caring he was with you. “Oh, shut up, you silly boy. I could not care less about the wedding decorations, all I care about at the moment is about having you officially stay by my side.” you retorted, looking intensely into his puppy hazel eyes, that stared back into yours with genuine love.

Before any of you could reply anything else, Luke placed his hand on the pocket of his trousers, and from it, he took two golden rings that contained both the Targaryen, and Velaryon sigils in them. Softly pulling one of your hands closer to him, he placed the ring in your finger leisurely, and allowed you to do the same with the other ring as you proudly admired how it properly fit each other, and how it symbolised your eternal union in life, and death.

Jace cleared his throat, and spoke up while beginning to open the book he held in his hands. “Let us get started with this ceremony, to officialise your matrimony under the eyes of The Seven.” he said, as both of you nodded in agreement. Your hands trembled slightly with nerves, yet, with pure enthusiasm. There was no other desired moment, than this one.

After Jace spoke up, he began reading outloud in High Valyrian, and knowing you weren't fully familiared with the language yet, Jace briefly translated it into English afterwards so you could understand what was being said. Both of you attentively listened to every single one of the Valyrian wedding vow scripts, and as soon he was finished, Jacaerys delicately took your hands, and made a big cut across your palm, only to be followed by a small cut in the middle of your lower lip. At the feeling of the cuts being made, you notoriously flinched much like Lucerys did, but you never complained outloud. It was greater the emotions of enthusiasm and love you felt at the grand moment, than the pain being caused by the ceremonial cuts.

Lucerys took your bleeding cut hand with his own, and both your open wounds were touched with each other, feeling your own injured flesh in a whole another personal level, and the way the blood dripped from it. His eyes stared into yours lovingly, leaning his face closer to yours, as well as you moved your own face closer to his.

“Ao issi sir valzȳrys se ābrazȳrys gō se laesi hen sīkuda. Ao issi mēre rūsīr each tolie, se ao kostagon vūjigon. [ You are now husband and wife under the eyes of The Seven. You are one with each other, and you may kiss. ]” jace finished speaking in High Valyrian, officialising your matrimony with Lucerys. Even if you could manage to understand only part of it, you followed your instincts, and as Luke began to softly place his lips against yours, you did the same. The bits of blood that came from the cut in your lower lip could be tasted by each other as you kissed, your wounded hands still holding each other tightly, feeling how your blood blended with his own blood. A grand, vast sense of liberty overwhelmed your heart, as the cool wind hit your faces. You were husband and wife; one soul, one flesh.

“Avy jorrāelan, nyke jāhor va moriot jorrāelagon ao. Isse bisa glaeson, isse issa hembar glaeson, se tolī morghon. Nyke jāhor va moriot respect se jorrāelagon ao rōvēgrī. [ I love you, I will always love you. In this life, in my next life, and after death. I will always respect and love you greatly. ]” Lucerys whispered softly, as he briefly pulled apart from your lips, though his face remained inches away from yours. His words were followed by another kiss full of fervid, passionate, undying love. One that wouldn't be able to be separated by anything else, one that went beyond any possible type of barrier, even if it was a secret marriage.

Now, nothing else mattered. You were his official, one and true Lady of the Tides, and even so, he was willing to run away from the royal life and duties with you if you told him to do so. Both of you were more than willing to form your own family, and stick tightly to one another through the hardest of moments. Your life was in your hands, and you were more than delighted to make the best of decisions for you, and your life together as Lord Husband, and Lady Wife.

You are his Lady of the Tides, the woman he truly loved, and the one he so greatly admired. And for you, he was more than willing to go against his own family's wishes just to be with you. You could rule together, or you could turn your back from being the future rulers of Driftmark... but as long as you were together, it didn't matter.

♡ taglist : ♡

@jjamieberry @anemicroyalcore @countsmoon @tickle-euphoria @beeebo234 @manuholland6 @capellaadara @kyuupidwrites @tchatso @dopepersonacloudllama @zzz000eee @phantasyy

[1800-fight-me]

Future

Logan Howlett x Female!Reader Rating: E (Explicit-MINORS DO NOT INTERACT) Warnings: Angst with a happy ending, explicit PiV sex as well as oral sex (M&F receiving), breeding kink, and daddy kink (oof) Word count: A little over 8.3k Synopsis: Logan goes back to the past in an attempt to save the world, but more importantly- you. (Set in X-Men Days of Future Past and switches between Logan and Reader's POV) Author’s note: Something about Logan makes me absolutely insane to the point that I wrote the longest most explicit sex scene I've ever written.... please enjoy P.S. I do not have a taglist! Instead if you would like to be notified when I post new fics follow my side blog @jo-writes-fanfic and turn your post notifications on! Comments and reblogs make my day! Main Masterlist

LOGAN’S POV

The future was dark and bleak. A war of uncontrollable violence, more than Logan had ever seen in his long life. 

The only bright spot in such a horrific future was you. You were the peace and rest his aching soul had long been searching for. 

It started as two people seeking solace and relief in one another, but the foundation of friendship created something so much more significant than either of you could have predicted. 

You became the planet around which he orbited. The home he never thought he’d find. The balm to his raging fire. 

Despite the hell that was life in the future, he had you. It was fitting that it caused the world falling to shit for him to finally find you. 

His self deprecating thoughts also told him that it was fitting that he lost you too. He didn’t deserve a love so pure and bright. He didn’t deserve such happiness when everyone else he cared about was either suffering or dead. 

All the blood on his hands left him marked, scarred, filthy down to his soul. But you looked past all of that, claimed you loved him anyway, claimed him. 

He was yours completely, worshiped at the altar of your affection, would go any lengths for you- do anything you ask. 

He would do anything to protect you, and it was the biggest black mark on his soul, after an extended lifetime full of mistakes, that he wasn’t able to protect you when it mattered the most. 

He shredded the sentinels, the unkillable soldiers in his rage, but one had slipped past his defenses, used your own healing powers against you and sucked the life right from you. Snuffed out your bright light all too soon. 

He killed, and killed, and killed- and it still didn’t bring you back. 

No one and nothing but him made it out of that abandoned warehouse that night. It was the tipping point for him, it made him bloodthirsty and reckless. It made him willing to go along with Charles and Eric’s ridiculous plan. 

As he laid down on the stone slab and allowed the young mutant to send him to the past, his thoughts were only on you. 

Everyone knew what his hopes were, but it went unspoken for fear it wouldn’t come true. Logan went back to the past with the desperate desire that he would wake up in a future in which you were still alive. A future he hadn’t already destroyed with the worst mistake he’d ever made. A better future. One you deserved, he would give you anything and everything you asked if he could bring you back. 

He woke in 1973 in the arms of a woman who wasn’t you, a woman he didn’t really remember. He hadn’t met you yet in 1973, unfortunately it would be a long while before he met you. And besides, he didn’t have time to search for you, he only had enough time for his mission. 

He could only hold onto the hope that he would see you again in the future, if he could change things for the better- if he could finally do something right. 

You were his motivation through dealing with younger versions of Charles and Eric, through all the missteps and mistakes, he tried his best to not lose hope. 

One last chance, after the mess that was Paris, this intervention was the only possibility of setting things right. 

They had to prevent Raven from killing Trask at this ridiculous anti-mutant presentation. Logan was inclined to agree with Raven at this point, but he knew the outcome of that decision and it was one he couldn’t live with. 

He and Hank made their way through the large crowds as Hank pushed Charles’ wheelchair, all focused only on their task at hand. Logan scanned the crowd, looking for Mystique despite the fact that Charles would be the only one able to find her. 

A voice met his ears, one that made his spine go rod straight. A voice he had unconsciously trained himself to seek out over years. 

“I really don’t want to be here,” the voice grumbled. 

Logan whipped his head to the left so quickly that if it was possible he probably would have given himself whiplash. 

It was you. 

His heart pounded harder than it had in the entirety of his two hundred something years. 

He stopped dead in his tracks and it was a force of will to not stare at you with his mouth hanging open. 

You looked different, but the same. You were younger obviously, your hairstyle and clothes were completely different, but that was you. 

His hand ached with the need to hold you, just one more time. 

“Please, I get extra credit for attending this thing and I can’t fail my government class,” the woman who he assumed was your friend whined as she clutched at your wrist. 

He did a mental tally in his head. Of course, he should’ve remembered that in the early seventies you were in a college not too far from Washington DC. It really wasn’t a huge coincidence that you would be here, but still it felt monumental. 

You looked over at her and huffed in resignation. 

God, you were cute, he thought. 

“Besides, maybe you can meet a handsome guy here. That would lift your spirits, wouldn’t it?” your friend said as she wiggled her eyebrows at you. 

You rolled your eyes and said, “This isn’t a bar, Jenna. This is anti-mutant government propaganda bullshit.” 

As did so often, he agreed with you. 

She pouted at you. “Well what if I promise to take you to a bar right after this ends?” 

You looked over at her in exasperated fondness and let her pull you forward, closer to where Logan and Hank stood in the crowd. 

Hank was saying something to him, something he didn’t hear - his attention entirely on you, and he snapped his head back to Hank as he shook his shoulder. 

“What?” Logan snapped. 

“Who are you looking at? Do you see Raven?” Hank asked. 

Logan took a deep breath and said, “No. I’m looking at my wife.” 

“Oh no,” Hank muttered. 

“Logan you can’t-“

”It’s not safe for her here,” Logan growled. 

————————————————-

YOUR POV

“Look, that guy is looking at you,” Jenna whispered in your ear. 

You followed her line of sight and saw the most handsome man you’d ever seen. 

He was exactly your type and in tight jeans to boot. He was huge- tall and extremely muscular. His dark hair was the kind of neat disheveled that begged you to run your fingers through it. His eyes were hidden by sunglasses but you could feel his intense gaze through them. 

“Holy shit he’s good looking,” you murmured and your friend giggled. 

He looked over at who you assumed was his friend and you continued to take him in. You weren’t sure you’d ever checked out a stranger in such a blatant manner before. There was something about him so inviting, despite his tense posture and intense demeanor, that your mouth was practically watering. 

“The guy next to him is cute too. Maybe we should go talk to them,” Jenna said. 

You tore your eyes from the object of your lust, and looked at the man next to him. He was cute in a nerdy way- exactly Jenna’s type. There was a third man with them, he was in a wheelchair and had his fingers to his temple as he scanned the crowd clearly in search of something or someone important. 

“I think they’re coming to us,” you said as the nerdy guy walked towards you. 

But unfortunately, the one you wanted to come closer didn’t, he stayed with his companion in the wheelchair and bent down to whisper something in his ear. 

“Hey ladies,” the man in glasses said as he approached you and Jenna. 

She immediately began to smile and twirl her hair around her finger as she spoke with him eagerly. 

He introduced himself as Hank and you shook his hand and introduced yourself as well, but your eyes continued to drift behind him to the other man, the one who you felt an inexplicable tug toward. 

“What about your friend?” you asked, your words an interruption to whatever Hank had been saying to Jenna. 

Hank looked stressed, but you looked back at the large man only a stone's throw away. 

He looked up and made eye contact with you, he must have taken his sunglasses off while you weren’t paying attention. Never before had you felt so stripped bare by just meeting a man’s eyes, there was a whirlwind of emotions within them- something akin to familiarity, possibly even love, and hunger. 

It took several moments of drowning in his gaze before you regained your wits about you. You smirked at him. 

He crossed his arms over his chest, which made him appear even larger as his muscles flexed. He raised a brow at you, but his lips were upturned in a small smile as if he was smiling despite himself. 

You crooked a finger at him, an invitation to come closer. 

He smiled and shook his head slightly, almost as if he were reprimanding himself but also couldn’t help himself. He turned his head and said something to his friend in the wheelchair before he strutted over to you. 

Every long stride he took towards you led to a tightening in your chest. It wasn’t fear, no, it was yearning. There was something inside you that wanted- no, needed, to know him. 

Your instincts were all wrong, he looked like a predator closing in on his prey, something about him sharp and animalistic as he approached you, and yet you felt at ease, intrigued, safe. 

“Hi,” you breathed out as he reached you. He smirked and stood a bit closer than would be normal for a stranger, but you didn’t mind at all as you looked up at his towering figure. 

He introduced himself in a low gravelly voice that sent a shiver down your spine and hearing his name was like an answer to a question you didn’t even know you’d been asking. 

Logan. 

You told him your name and he had this secret smile as if he already knew what you were going to say. 

He repeated your name, and something in you changed forever at the sound of it on his lips. 

“How come you didn’t wanna come say hi?” You asked teasingly. 

He looked at you and you felt more at home than ever before, which you knew sounded insane, but you couldn’t deny the way he made you feel. 

“Oh I wanted to,” he said and warmth filled you as you smiled at him. 

“Logan,” Hank hissed as he elbowed him. 

You’d honestly forgotten that you and Logan weren’t the only two people in the world at that moment. You’d forgotten about Jenna, and Hank, and the teeming crowd of people around you. 

“I know,” Logan replied to Hank in a grumpy tone that made you huff a small laugh. 

“Listen, I know this is going to sound crazy, but you need to leave. This isn’t safe,” Logan said fervently as he placed a large hand gently on your upper arm. 

You scrunched your brows at him in confusion. 

“Is this some kind of ploy to get me to leave with you?” You joked. 

He chuckled, the sound from deep in his chest, and you grinned. 

“If only,” he said. “No, pretty girl, I have to stay here.”

“I’m sorry, I’m confused,” you said. 

His thumb rubbed up and down your arm in a way that was both comforting and familiar. 

He glanced over at your friend, and as he saw that she was deep in conversation with Hank, he leaned closer to you in order to whisper in your ear. 

“This isn’t a safe place for mutants,” he murmured, urgency in his voice. 

You pulled back enough to look into his eyes, shock evident in your expression. 

“How do you know-“ you gasped quietly. 

He shook his head, “I’m one too, I can explain everything later, but please- for your own safety sweetheart, please leave.” 

You met his gaze and something about the urgency and care you found in his eyes made you believe him. 

“I suppose I’ll take your word for it. There’s a bar across town called McClarin’s, will you meet me there tonight? You can buy me a drink and explain all this weirdness.” You said. 

There was a flash of something akin to sadness in his eyes, but he gave you a tight smile and said, “Of course, I’ll be there. I’d do anything you ask.” 

You believed him. 

So you turned your head to your friend and said, “Jenna, we’re leaving.” 

You ignored her protests and stood on your tiptoes and pressed a kiss to Logan’s cheek. 

His hazel eyes fluttered closed, as if he were savoring the feeling of your lips against his skin. 

“Until tonight,” you said as you slipped your hand in Jenna’s. He nodded in agreement and you turned and walked away from him. 

“Why are we leaving?” Jenna complained. 

“They’re going to meet us at the bar later, we can watch the broadcast on the TV,” you said. 

She huffed but agreed as you led her out of the crowd and towards safety. 

A little while later you sat at the bar with Jenna- you ate pretzels and nursed a beer, and watched the news. 

Logan had been right, it was a dangerous situation for mutants. 

Tears filled your eyes and your heart dropped into your stomach as you watched as Logan was massacred by Magneto. His body was violently filled with pieces of metal and then thrown so far the cameras didn’t catch where he landed. 

He had to be dead, no one survived something like that. He saved your life and then didn’t survive the fight he protected you from. 

None of the news outlets had any information on your mysterious savior. 

You spent the evening calling both hospitals and morgues and no one had any knowledge of Logan or even a John Doe that matched his description. 

Weeks went by with no news. There was a hole in your heart, which seemed ridiculous considering you’d only met him once, but there was something about a promise unfulfilled. 

There was a feeling as if your future had been altered completely, as if Logan was supposed to be a part of it but now he never would be. 

————————————————-

Your mutant ability to heal others and yourself led you to work in a hospital as a nurse after you completed all of your schooling. 

Years passed and you met Storm when she literally landed in your hospital, as in she was thrown by an enemy and crashed through the ceiling. 

You stared at her in shock, then jumped towards her and used your powers to heal the gash in her stomach where blood had already begun pooling. She thanked you before flying off into battle once more. 

Once the fight was won, Storm came back and asked you to come with her to Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters. 

You were intrigued and soon found yourself as a professor of health sciences, part time school nurse, and an X-Man on the side. You weren’t much of a fighter, during missions you really mostly hung back and healed the injured X-Men as well as any civilians fought in the crossfire. 

It was a fulfilling life, one you enjoyed immensely, but something always felt like it was missing. You dated a bit but being so busy prevented anything deep. 

There was no spark, no instant connection with anyone like there had been with Logan. You supposed it really was a once in a lifetime experience. 

It didn’t help that you weren’t interested in anyone romantically that you worked with. Storm, who had quickly become a great friend, encouraged you to give Hank a chance when he pursued you. You tried, he was nice, but it just wasn’t love, and after a few months you ended it. Luckily you were able to remain as friends. 

Time passed and Professor X pointed out to you that you didn’t appear to age. At first you brushed him off as ridiculous, but eventually consented to let Jean run tests on you. 

As it turned out, your ability to heal yourself extended to things such as diseases and life’s natural course of aging. 

Eternity yawned its horrid mouth open before you and the loneliness of it threatened to swallow you whole. 

You took a leave of absence to avoid others seeing you in the midst of an existential crisis. You traveled for a couple of months, took time to see the world in a way you never had before, met beautiful strangers, and came to terms with the fact that it was likely you would never die, that any connections you did make would die long before you were ever ready. 

You decided to make the most of life, embrace the joy and the hurt, and returned home. 

As soon as you walked through the door of the mansion, everything felt different, but perhaps it was you that was changed so irrevocably. 

You made your way towards Professor X’s office and literally ran into a man as he walked out. 

“Ugh,” you groaned as your face squished into a broad chest. The body you slammed into was so sturdy the man didn’t even stumble, he merely placed large hands on your shoulders to steady you. 

“Woah there, speedy. You alright?” A deep voice said. Something about that voice tickled something in the back of your brain, a memory from years ago. 

“Sorry!,” you exclaimed as you stepped back and looked up to see his face. 

“Logan,” you breathed out in surprise as you finally saw him. He looked nearly the same as all those years ago. His hair and clothes were slightly different, but it was definitely him. He was as handsome as the day you lost him.

He raised a brow in confusion as he looked at you. 

“Have we met?” He asked. 

Your heart dropped into your stomach. The man of your dreams, the man you thought had died and yet you had continued to pine over for years, was standing before you and didn’t remember you. He didn’t remember meeting you, an experience that had been so cataclysmic in your life but apparently unimpressionable in his. 

“Yes, many years ago,” you breathed out. 

He looked you up and down and said, “Well, I really wish I remembered that.” 

You huffed a laugh to cover up the ache in your heart as you looked down at your feet. You told him your name as his hands finally slipped from your shoulders, you mourned the loss of his touch. 

As he repeated your name in that gravelly tone your heart thumped harder in your chest, despite yourself. 

“I don’t remember anything before a few years ago,” he said. 

“Oh?” You asked. Maybe it wasn’t that you were forgettable, it was just that he didn’t remember anything. 

“What happened?” You breathed out. 

Confusion and echoes of pain clouded his gorgeous hazel eyes. “I don’t remember, but I know it was painful,” he said. 

You placed a hand on his arm in comfort and said, “Maybe the professor can help you figure it out.” 

He nodded, “Not sure if I’ll be sticking around long enough. Being on a team isn’t really my thing.” 

“Sure it’s not,” you teased with a wink, thinking back to the team he was clearly a part of back when you met him. 

He grumbled something you didn’t quite catch at the same time Charles came out of his office to greet you. 

You bid Logan goodbye as you followed Charles into his office to catch up after your extended absence. 

Your heart still pounded from meeting Logan and you wore a grin you couldn’t prevent for several minutes. 

And to your delight, you found out later in the day that Logan decided to stay. You weren’t sure what the deciding factor was, but you were happy all the same. 

Maybe things would fall into place, perhaps your future could end up brighter than previously anticipated. 

————————————————-

LOGAN’S POV

Logan awoke, the same song playing on the radio, your song. He lurched out of the bed and stumbled out of the room. As he opened the door wonder filled him as he realized he was in the mansion. 

Children bustled past him as they went to their classes. Friends and family that were long since passed in his future smiled and waved at him as he walked through his home eyes full of wonder. 

It had worked, all the effort and pain had been worth it, everything was as it should be. The only question that remained was you. Where were you? 

He made his way to Charles’ office and sighed in relief when he saw him safe and alive. 

His old friend welcomed him back to the future, a better future. 

“Where is she?” He breathed out as Charles read his mind, getting a glimpse of his past. 

“She’s here, she’s safe, but Logan you should know-“ 

At that moment you walked into Charles’ office and if Logan wasn’t already sitting he would’ve fallen to his knees. He’d never seen such a beautiful sight. 

He breathed out your name like a prayer and you looked over at him. He didn’t even register the look on your face, he’d already made his way across the room and wrapped you in his arms. 

“Logan,” you squeaked out. “What the hell?” 

He lifted you up and buried his face in your neck. 

“Can’t breathe,” you huffed as you pushed on his shoulders in an attempt to get him to release you from the vice hold he had you in. 

He put you down and looked down at you, placed a hand on the side of your gorgeous face- it wasn’t until now that he took in your expression. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked. 

You pulled back from him again, even went so far as to push his hand from you and took a step back. 

“What’s gotten into you? Why the hell do you think you can just-” You asked in confusion, irritation coloring your tone. 

He cut you off as he blurted out, “What? I don’t understand-“ 

“Logan, in this timeline you and her broke up,” Charles said. 

“Broke up?” Logan asked with raised eyebrows, the words lacked any meaning to him. There was no future in which he and you were not together. It was inconceivable. 

“That’s ridiculous,” Logan said. At the same time you asked, “this timeline?” 

You both looked at one another in confusion. 

“Sit, both of you, let me explain,” Charles said. 

Logan sat and watched your expression change from suspiciousness to utter shock as Charles explained that Logan was from a different future, a different timeline, and had replaced the Logan you knew. 

He didn’t remember anything after 1973, other than the horrible future he had come from. But he did remember the first time you met that day in Washington DC. Although for him that was far from the first time you’d met.

“That’s a lot of information. I think you broke my brain- that’s so confusing,” you breathed out. 

Logan’s heart threatened to beat out of his chest as he tried to gauge your reaction. 

You turned to him. “So in this future I’m guessing you and I are together?” 

Logan nodded. 

“Well not in this one,” you muttered and stood to leave. 

“Wait, princess - talk to me,” Logan pleaded as he grabbed your hand. 

You turned back and glared at him. “Logan, I don’t care which version of you it was, you broke my heart and I have no interest in sitting here listening to any more of this.” 

You yanked your hand from his and stormed out of the office. You left him feeling helpless and empty. 

He looked over at the Professor. “What happened?” He asked. 

“It’s still fresh. The others have found her crying multiple times over the last few days. I tried not to pry but-“ 

“You went into her head,” Logan guessed and Charles nodded. 

He prepared himself for the worst and the flicker of hope in his chest began to gutter. He would be devastated if after all of this he couldn’t be with you. 

“The two of you have been together for about five years, were close friends for years before that, but she ended it about a week ago during an argument. She wanted to have a child and you didn’t,” Charles explained. 

“That’s it? She wants a baby? I’ll give her a baby. I’ll give her whatever she wants, the version of me from this timeline must be a goddamn idiot,” Logan said sharply. 

Charles chuckled. “I spoke to the other you yesterday, he had come to the same conclusion. It wasn’t that he didn’t want a child, he was just letting his fears get in the way.” 

“I have to go talk to her,” Logan practically growled as he stood and stalked out of the office in search of you. 

It wasn’t difficult to find you. He had memorized the sound of your heartbeat, your scent, and was all too familiar with the salty tang of your tears. 

He found you in a bedroom he assumed was yours, he knocked and let himself in despite your garbled yell of, “Go away!” 

It was clear this was the makeshift room you’d moved into after the break up, your decorations were all in boxes, your clothes piled everywhere and spilled out of drawers, and everything all together more messy and haphazard than he knew you liked to keep things. 

You sat curled in the bed as tears streamed down your sweet face. 

“Go away Lo,“ you sniffled as you quickly wiped your tears away. 

“Oh, my sweet girl-“ Logan said in a gentle voice only you knew. 

“No, Logan I’m not yours anymore,” the words were weak and he could tell you didn’t even really mean them. 

He came closer to the bed and you glared at him but didn’t say a word as he sat down and pulled you into his lap. 

You sunk into his embrace and buried your face in his neck. He ran his hand up and down your back soothingly. 

Your fingers tangled into his shirt, your breaths were shaky, and a few more tears managed to escape. His heart ached at the pain you were in. 

“I changed the timeline of our universe to be with you. I’m not gonna let anything stand in our way. So, you want a baby, I’ll give you a baby. I’ll give you as many babies as you want. I’ll give you anything you want, I’d do anything for you. I love you,” he said and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. 

“But-“ 

“And before you ask, Charles told me that the Logan in this future had come to the same conclusion and was planning on making things right with you today. In every timeline, I want to make you happy.” 

He wiped the tears from your face and pressed a kiss to your forehead. 

“Did we ever talk about kids in your future?” You asked in a soft vulnerable voice. 

He held you tighter. 

“Only once, but it wasn’t a possibility for us, that future was too dangerous. So dangerous that I lost you. I wouldn’t survive losing you again.” 

At the pain in his voice you pulled back enough to meet his gaze. 

“Tell me about that future,” you asked gently. 

And so he did, every awful part of it as he held you in his arms and reminded himself that this was real, that you were safe and alive, that this was his new future. 

You wiped the tear that slipped down his face as you looked up at him in awe. 

“You did all that for me? For us?” You asked in wonder. 

“I’d do anything for you,” he said fervently. You placed your hand on the side of his face and his eyes fluttered closed as he finally, finally received affection from you after so long. 

He nuzzled his face into your hand, pressed his lips against the pulse point at your wrist, finally let himself sink into your intoxicating presence. 

You slipped your hand into his hair and pressed a featherlight kiss to his lips. The weight of time without you pressed in on him and his self control snapped, with one hand on the back of your head and the other on your waist, he crushed you against his body and kissed you with desperation. 

He wanted to consume you, to sink inside you, to never be apart from you again. 

You made a high pitched sweet sound of surprise before you kissed him just as fervently. He groaned into your mouth at the taste of you as his tongue slipped into your mouth. 

It was absolute heaven. 

This kiss could have gone on for hours or perhaps only seconds, he didn't know, no time was enough with you. 

You pulled back and looked at him. “I love you,” you said. 

“I love you,” he groaned and pressed his lips to yours repeatedly. 

You breathed out a soft giggle at his expression of adoration. 

He tilted his head back to look you deep in the eyes once more and said, “Let’s make a baby.” 

You looked flustered and he thought it was the sweetest thing he’d ever seen. 

“Right now? I-“ 

“I’ve missed you so much, sweetheart. I want to. Wanna give you want you want,” he moaned as he kissed you again. 

“Missed you too,” you whimpered as his lips drifted across your jaw and down your throat. 

————————————————-

YOUR POV

It was all consuming. He was everywhere all at once as he laid you on your back and pressed himself on top of you. 

The weight and heat of him was both comforting and intoxicating. The last few hours had given you emotional whiplash, but it was Logan. 

Apparently he was your soulmate no matter the timeline. He kissed you as if he were drowning and you were his breath of fresh air. He said everything you’d been dreaming of, and more as he declared his love and promised to fulfill your every desire. 

There was nothing the two of you couldn’t overcome as a team. You loved him and he loved you, and maybe that was all that mattered. 

As he bit down on your neck, all other thoughts flew from your head, it was just him. You and him- forever. There would be no long lonely life, he would be by your side always. 

“Logan,” you gasped and he groaned against your neck as he continued to nip and suck at the skin there. He loved to mark you as his and the thought made your toes curl. 

As if he could read your mind, he said, “Tell me you’re mine.”

His tongue licked up the column of your throat and you panted, “I’m yours, Lo. Only yours.” 

“Marry me,” he murmured against your skin. 

‘What?” You breathed out as you placed your hands on either side of your face and pulled him back enough to meet his hazel gaze. His pupils were blown with a combination of love and lust which caused heat to fill your entire body. 

“Marry me,” he repeated, then pressed his lips to yours again. 

“Yes,” you gasped into his mouth. His fingers gripped your waist tighter as they slipped under your shirt and met your heated skin. 

“Let me make you mine forever,” he growled and you whimpered and nodded as you tugged at his t-shirt. 

He helped you pull it off him and you let out a soft groan as your hand explored his broad chest, then down his muscled torso as you followed the trail of hair that led to the vee partially hidden beneath his jeans. Your mouth watered as your hand reached his belt, and you saw the evidence of his desire for you straining against his pants. 

He snatched your hand right as you were about to reach his hardened length and you whined in frustration. 

“Please, Lo,” you breathed out and he smirked in that cocky way that made you want to either smack him or suck him off. 

“No, I’m gonna take my time with you, pretty girl,” he said as he pulled your shirt off, then immediately followed with removing your bra. You whimpered again at the feeling of his skin against yours as he leaned back down and kissed you. 

His lips trailed to your breasts and you moaned as he licked and suckled at your sensitive nipples. Your core heated and throbbed as you became slick with desire for him.

You gripped the muscles of his tensed shoulders as you wrapped your legs around his trim waist. 

You attempted to grind yourself against his hard cock but he bit down on your neck in reprimand. 

“Stop that,” he growled. 

You moaned in response and he chuckled darkly. Suddenly he sat up- and you squeaked in surprise at the sudden shift as he stood from the bed. Before you could respond, he yanked you to the edge of the bed and kneeled before you. 

“C’mon, be a good girl and I’ll reward you with my cock, I’ll fill you to the brim, give you a baby just like you want. You just have to be a good girl and let me make you come on my tongue, can you do that princess- hm?” 

You moaned at his words, nodding vigorously as he slid off your jeans and spread your legs before him. 

“Use your words,” he taunted as he rested your legs on his broad shoulders. 

His nose ran up, up, up the inside of your thigh until it reached your panties. He groaned deeply as he took in a deep breath- turned near feral at the scent of your arousal. 

“Yes, yes, I’ll be good, please- just please, Lo,” you babbled. 

Another deep noise from the back of his throat came from the sounds of your sweet begging as he used his teeth to pull your panties off. 

You gasped as his warm wet tongue licked up your gushing pussy, all the way from your hole to your throbbing clit. 

“You this wet just for me, princess?” He said, the words muffled against your cunt. He began flicking his tongue over the most sensitive part of you and you keened. 

Your back arched and you plunged your fingers into his hair, your fingers tangled in and gripped the brown and silver strands. 

“Yes, for you, only for you, always for you,” rambled. 

The squelching sounds of your cunt as he pressed two fingers inside mixed with your heavy pants and his groans to create the most erotic symphony you’d ever heard. 

Your whines reached a fever pitch as his fingers curdled and pressed against the spongy spot inside you that made you forget anything but his name as his tongue continued to flick and swirl around your clit. 

“Logan!” you moaned. 

“Missed this pretty pussy,” he growled. 

Heat filled you as electricity prickled up your spine. You writhed on the bed and pressed your cunt closer to his mouth.  

One of his large hands smacked your hip lightly in reprimand. He then laid his arm down across your waist to hold you still. 

“Thought you were gonna be a good girl, or do I need to stop,” he teased as he looked up at you and you moaned. 

You slick coated his lips and beard, his hair was disheveled from your hands, and his gorgeous eyes were blown with desire. 

“No, I’ll be good, promise,” you panted. 

He smiled at you, the kind of smile a predator gives their prey before they pounce, and licked you once again. 

You were completely at his mercy, pinned to the bed, his fingers inside you and his mouth on your cunt. 

You dug your heels into the muscles of his back in an attempt to urge him on.  

The tension inside you built and built as his tongue continued its ministrations. 

“M’gonna come, Lo,” you whined. 

“Good girl, come for me,” he replied then sucked on your clit. 

The pleasure was so intense as his thick fingers continued to hit that spot inside you that lightning ran up your spine and you came with a moan of his name. 

He continued to lick until you yanked on his hair in an attempt to pull his head away as his arm across your hips kept you pinned to the bed and wiggling away wasn’t an option. 

He chuckled darkly as he pressed a final kiss to your bundle of pleasure then looked up at you. 

“Did I do good? You gonna reward me with your cock, daddy?” you asked. 

There was a heartbeat before he replied, where you worried you went too far as he looked at you in surprise.

But then came his response, “Fuck. Yes, sweetheart, you’re perfect. Daddy’s gonna give you his cock, gonna fill you up real good.” 

You whimpered in desire as he stood. You sat up and immediately began to yank at his belt. 

He smirked as he looked down on you- watched you in your desperation to reach his thick cock. 

Your mouth watered as you won your fight with his belt and zipper and yanked the jeans down enough to get a glimpse of his gloriously hard dick. 

Logan finally took pity on you and helped you to remove his pants altogether, which left him wonderfully bare before you. 

Good god, he was sexy- his rippling muscles glistened with sweat and you wanted to lick every inch of his skin. 

He lifted your face with a hand on your chin so you would meet his eyes once more. 

At the heat in his gaze you felt yourself gush even more. 

His thumb brushed across your bottom lip and you obediently opened your mouth. He pressed his thumb into your mouth and you moaned softly as you sucked on it. 

“Shit, you’re killing me, pretty girl. Lay back, I need to be inside you,” he growled. 

You let him pull his thumb out of your mouth and looked up at him through your lashes. 

“Can I taste you first?” you asked sweetly. 

His eyes rolled back into his head and he gripped your chin tighter. 

“Course you can, my good girl gets whatever she wants,” he said then led your face closer to his cock. 

You wanted to live in this moment forever, your head fuzzy with ecstasy only he could provide and empty of anything but him as you were eager to please him. You wanted to be his - in every possible way. 

You wrapped one hand around the base of his cock and pressed a kiss to the tip as you looked up at him. His breaths stuttered and power rushed to your head. You had this big strong man literally in the palm of your hand as you gave him pleasure that nearly brought him to his knees as your tongue peeked out and you licked the sensitive underside of his tip. 

He groaned your name and that prompted you on as you opened your mouth and began to take in some of his length and suckled gently. 

You moaned at the salty taste of him in your mouth, and took him in deeper as your hand worked in tandem. 

“You look so pretty like this,” he murmured. 

You rubbed your thighs together in an desperate but fruitless attempt to generate friction as your clit throbbed again with need. There was nothing as delicious as the grunts and groans Logan made as you took him deeper into your mouth. 

His hand slipped from the side of your face to cradle the back of your head and you moaned around his length as he led you to take him deeper into your throat. You took deep breaths through your nose as you swallowed him, taking him in far enough that you no longer needed to use your hand and instead used your hand to gently cup his balls. 

“That’s it, doing so good f’me,” Logan groaned. 

The musky scent of him filled your nostrils as your nose brushed against the wiry hairs at the base of his cock. His other hand began to flick and pinch at your nipple and you moaned around his length. 

His size was substantial, but you were used to it at this point and your head emptied, only Logan present in your mind, as you let him guide your mouth up and down on his cock as you sucked him deeper. 

It was everything you wanted and more, until he pulled you off him. A string of saliva connected from your bottom lip to his tip as you gasped for air and looked up at him. 

He wiped away the spit as he murmured out, “fuckin’ perfect.” 

You whimpered as he surged forward and kissed you, near feral with desire. 

“Logan,” you gasped as he manhandled you further back onto the bed and laid himself on top of you. 

He continued to kiss you, his lips moved against yours and you surged closer- your chin bumped his as you kissed him urgently. His tongue explored your mouth and electricity filled you. Your body was filled with desperation as you wrapped your legs around his trim waist. 

“Need you inside me, please daddy, need your huge cock inside me, need you to fill me up,” you pleaded as he began to kiss and suck on your neck. You knew there would be bruises there tomorrow, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care - it was only more evidence that you belonged to him. 

He chuckled darkly and said, “You sound so pretty when you beg, princess. Don’t worry, daddy’s got you.” He reached down and lined his cock up to your desperate hole and you whined in relief. 

Slowly, so slowly, Logan pressed himself inside you. Inch by inch he sunk his cock deep inside your cunt and the feeling was unlike any other. 

He caged you in with his large arms on either side of your head and you pulled his face down for another desperate kiss. 

Once he was seated fully inside you, it was as if all the franticness of the moment dissipated and you both felt the need to savor the moment, to extend it for as long as possible, to live in this experience of perfection for eternity. 

There were times that sex with Logan was rough and animalistic, but you both knew that this wouldn’t be one of those times. This was making love - this was a reunion, a reconciliation, a healing of hurts, a fusion of souls. 

You looked deep into his eyes and found home. 

You locked your ankles around his waist to keep him close, the desire to be as close to him as possible all consuming. His deep breaths pressed his chest against yours and there was nothing in the world but you and him. 

One of his hands stroked your arm as you reached up and placed your hand on the side of his face. The other rested against his shoulder as you gripped the muscles you found there. 

You caressed his cheek and ran your fingers in his beard. 

“I love you,” you whispered. 

His eyes became bright with emotion, he had the prettiest eyes you’d ever seen- dark green with rings of brown that held unconditional love for you. 

He murmured your name and it sounded like a prayer of devotion as it fell from his plush lips. He pressed a tender kiss to your lips. 

He pulled back enough to press his forehead against yours. 

“I love you more than anything,” he replied. 

You felt perfectly incandescently happy, so wonderfully full of him, and despite both of your desires for this moment to never end, you also needed him to move inside you. 

“Please, Lo,” you breathed out. 

He knew exactly what you meant and he braced his forearms on either side of your head and pulled his hips back. Logan pulled back enough that only the tip of his cock remained inside you, before he sunk back in slowly. 

Your breaths mingled with his and it felt as if the two of you were on an island of your own- as if you were the only two people in the world. 

There was a feeling of connectedness, as if the puzzle pieces had all finally fallen into place, as your heartbeat sped and began to beat in time with his. 

“You feel so good, so big,” you breathed out as he continued his slow steady pace. Again, and again, and again he pushed himself inside you. 

He moaned and kissed you again, this time messy and more urgent. 

The string of fate that connected the two of you pulled taunt, became stronger as a result of your union, as you declared to one another your infinite commitment and love. 

You clenched down as he increased his pace. 

“That’s it, that’s my good girl, so fuckin’ tight,” he said, his lips moved against yours as he imprinted the praise into your mouth. 

There was a delicious feeling of fullness as you felt stretched and stuffed to the brim with his cock, as your heart threatened to burst at the care he showed you. Your hands ran across his arms and shoulders, around and down to his back where your nails dug into the sweat slicked muscles you found there. 

He grunted and again increased his pace. Your thighs tightened around his waist and you held onto him more securely as he pistoned his cock inside you. 

There was no better feeling than when he was inside you. His cock repeatedly hit that spot deep within that made you see stars and you felt that familiar burning inside you begin to grow. 

There was no possible way to be closer to him. His face was buried in your throat, his chest pressed against yours and every thrust brushed your sensitive nipples against the hair there, your puffy clit felt shockwaves of every thrust as his groin grinded against it, the slick of your arousal coated you both- there was no possible way to be closer to him, and yet somehow you needed more. 

“Daddy, please,” you gasped. 

“Mhm, is this what my pretty girl needs?” 

He shoved a hand between your bodies and began to press tight circles against your throbbing clit. 

“Yes!” You let out a high pitched whine as you threw your head back let out a low groan as you clenched down on his thick cock. 

The squelching sounds of your joining bodies should’ve made you embarrassed, but white hot pleasure eroded all your senses. 

“C’mon pretty baby, come for daddy and then I’ll fill you up, I’ll make you full of me, make sure everyone knows you’re mine with my ring on your finger and my baby in your stomach. S’that what you want? Huh? You want everyone to know you’re mine?” he growled in your ear. 

“God, y-yes, Logan- fuck,” you stuttered out. 

He continued to fuck into you with those long harsh thrusts, the pace quick and intense as his finger drew tight circles on your overstimulated clit. It balanced you on the line of pleasure and pain, but his words pushed you over the edge. 

You gasped loudly, “M’gonna come!”

He grabbed your face and said, “Look at me.” 

White hot pleasure exploded through you. Your eyes fluttered open and you stared deep into his intense gaze as you came on his cock. 

He groaned along with you as you clenched down on him. 

“Shit, that’s my good girl,” he said and kissed you sloppily. 

You keened at the praise, your head fuzzy with ecstacy. Your nails again dug into his back as he continued to pump himself inside you as he chased his own release. 

His breaths came harder as his sweat slicked skin slid against yours. His hand gripped your hip hard enough to bruise as his pace somehow increased. 

There was nothing you could do but take it. This-this was bliss, this was perfection. 

“Want you to fill me up, want you to come in me, please Lo,” you whined. 

He groaned and with one more deep thrust he pushed himself as far inside you as possible and came. He filled you up, with stuttered breaths and hips, he came until he had nothing else to give. 

You pulled your head back from his neck, where you had bit down- hard, and pressed a kiss to his lips. 

You could’ve sworn that the thread of fate, the connection between the two of you glowed in the aftermath. 

With a grunt, he flipped over onto his back as he held you tight, and kept you against him and pulled you on top of him as he kept his cock inside you. 

You rested your head against his chest. 

“Can we just stay like this for a while?” you asked. 

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head as his large hand ran up and down your back.  

“Of course, princess. Anything you want.” 

And so you did. After all, time was a minuscule thing when the entirety of a new future together stretched before you. 

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Just a little something something for you guys...as a treat😈

When Simon's away for a while on deployment, it can get lonely. He's knows by the way your texting, when he gets the chance and can text, that you are missing him like crazy. You tell him how you can hardly wait till he returns, how your body is just aching for him something fierce.

And fuck his aching for yours too.

If he could hop on a plane, he would in an instant just to get back to you. Unfortunately, that's not something available to him at the moment.

But that doesn't mean there's nothing for him to do.

Simon knows his baby needs something to take the edge off, something to tide over that insatiable appetite for him until he can come home and fuck her proper the first chance he can get. You never asked for it, but he knew you wouldn't mind.

Ding

Your phone goes off. It's late, but youre no stranger to staying up well past dark; sometimes that was the only way you'd get a minute to talk to Simon when he was away across the world.

You check your phone. It's a text... a picture...

At first glance at the small icon on the lock screen, the image is kind of dark so you have to click on it to bring it up and when you do you nearly faint.

The caption reads: “Gotta be stealthy so they don't fuckin' catch me, but this one's for you sweetheart."

Simon is clearly propped up in his cot, his legs splayed open, shirt off. All that you can see is his thick torso with it's small speckling of light colored hair across his abs. The belt and zipper of his pants are completely undone and the waistband flung open. In one of his meaty hands he has a hold of his cock, already swollen with a little glistening at the top caught in the low light - most definitely a product from thinking of you.

You have to swallow to keep the spit from dribbling down out of the corner your mouth. Instantly you feel the heat rise in your cheeks, burning through your face as the blood pools there. It feels like you are going to pass out.

He's done it, he's taken your breath away in an instant.

Not even recovered from that glorious image your phone dings again, this time downloading something for a few seconds. Your heart pounds in your chest, your breath caught in your lungs, as you wait to see what he's done now.

Ding

It's downloaded. This time it's a video...about a minute long. Your shaky, excited finger instantly clicks play.

"Mmmm..." his breath groan hits your ears as the vision of him stroking his length plays across the screen. His voice in hushed, clearly trying to be as quiet as he can while still making sure you can hear his words. "Fuck darlin', I wish you were here... rather have that sweet little pussy 'round me than my hand."

You've stopped breathing, literally; you could hear a pin drop in the room. The video of his abdominal muscles contracting and releasing as he continues to stroke his cock is all you can focus on now. Looks like he's in the middle of things.

He groans again, his breathing getting faster. "Fuck, I miss ya luv. It's been hell not having ya near for this fuckin' long. Nearly rippin' a hole in my goddamn pants from being so fuckin hard. I swear... gonna absolutely wreck ya when I get back. Don't even bother wearing any panties cause they're gonna get shredded off ya. Nothin', and I mean fuckin' nothin' is gonna keep me from buryin' all this in ya the fuckin' second we're alone. I wanna make you cum so fuckin bad baby."

The video fades out amongst the sound of another low, gravely moan and your sanity is gone. Dear God you were a lucky one tonight. You have to take several minutes just to relearn how to function properly again so you can text him back.

Before you can do that your phone goes off once more.

Ding

One final message pops up on screen: "Think of me later when you cum, sweetheart..."

Oh, you would, you would. And maybe just to be nice...you'd send him something back too.

Part 2:

[delirious-donna]

“I hate wearing tights!”

“I love when you wear tights.”

You bristled like a cat’s warning to stay back. “Well, you would say that, wouldn’t you?”

Hiromi’s laugh was salacious, throaty and rich and accompanied by a playful waggle of his dark eyebrows.

It was hard to ignore him, sat on the corner of your bed with his fingers loosening the knot of his tie. He looked tired but there was a light in his eyes that told you he was not so exhausted that he wouldn’t cause you trouble, if pushed.

“How many pairs have you utterly ruined to date?” You asked with a huff, fluffing your hair in the mirror and trying desperately not to wriggle your hips at the uncomfortable sensation of the nylon hugging your thighs. “I’ve lost count.”

“If you’ve lost count then what chance do I have?” Hiromi’s face loomed into sight in the reflection of the mirror, bending so his chin came to rest on your shoulder. “Besides… I can’t help it if I love the sound they make when my fingers shred through the flimsy material.”

“Hiro…”

His hands were at your waist now, the skirt of your dress no longer hanging artistically around you, more so it was being pulled higher by determined fingers. The sheer black tights stared back at you, and for a moment you could appreciate that they looked good and shaped your legs in such a way that made you feel just a little more sexy.

Despite your warning tone, Hiromi continued to bunch your dress until the entirety of your legs were visible in the mirror. Your tasteful underwear barely visible beneath, and a lot more damp than a moment ago. He hummed in appreciation, face turning to smear a series of wet kisses to your neck, tasting your perfume.

“I am getting ready to go out. You need to behave,” you scolded without a hint of heat in your voice. You were enjoying your husband’s attention, but it was best not to let him know lest you find yourself not making it out the front door at all.

“Impossible. Look here,” he said with a lazy drawl, drawing your gaze to the darker band ringing the tops of your thighs.

He tapped repeatedly at one spot but there appeared to be nothing there, and you frowned in confusion. His other hand wandered across the silky nylon at your hips, roaming around the side and squeezing your backside firmly enough that you squealed.

Hiromi tsked, but you could see his triumphant smile from where he was nosing at your neck. “Concentrate, sweetheart. There’s a hole right here, see?”

Your focus was dragged back to the same spot Hiromi had tapped at seconds before pawing at your arse. Your thighs squeezed together whilst the ache between them rose in intensity.

There was nothing there.

No hole you could see no matter how much you peered where his finger pointed and circled. Sure, your concentration was a little foggy given the swell of your husband’s cock at the cleft of your backside, but you weren’t blind.

“What are you talk—”

Rrrrriiiiippppp

Hiromi’s devilish fingers hooked into the fabric and tore through the sheer nylon like a hot knife through butter. Your bare skin peeked back at you. Your eyes widened. Your heart rate thundered. Your pussy clenched.

“Oops, I seem to have made it worse. Oh dear… whatever shall we do?” Hiromi teased, biting softly at your earlobe and stretching more of his fingers through the ever expanding hole.

You did make it to your night out, but very late and with an afterglow so radiant that you were grilled for hours by your persistent friends. Despite the seasonal chill, you didn’t feel it so much on your bare legs, Hiromi’s touch lingered to provide you all the warmth you could need.

[imyourbratzdoll]

𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒂𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒍 𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒍𝒖𝒓𝒌𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒉𝒂𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒔

🕊️a whore's fairytale masterlist🕊️

summary - y/n jane porter (you) decides to prove men wrong by searching for the lost man, and you happen upon him after insulting a bunch of baboons, only to realise that you will never leave again.

warning - smut, dubcon, chase, marking, insulting animals, swearing, oral sex, creampie, kidnapping/held hostage?

18+ only please, the gif and headers I use aren't mine.

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

You huffed as you stalked the forest, searching for a man who had been lost to the world. Explorers have searched high and low for him but have yet to succeed. You were determined to be different, to prove to them that you could find the lost man. Secretly though, you knew he would be feral, not even knowing what a woman was and the pleasure you could bring him. You hiked up your light yellow dress, white-gloved hands scrunching the material between your fists. You spin when you hear a sound, looking up into the trees, and your eyes widen when you notice the many baboons staring down at you. 

“Oh, hello.” You look closer, squinting your eyes and scrunching your nose. “You’re quite ugly creatures, aren’t you?” You stumble back when they begin to screech, looking ready to attack, and you put your hands up. “I didn’t mean to offend. It’s just…” Your words are lost to them, and you start running as some of them jump from the trees and chase you, the others swinging through the branches. You pick up your pace, dodging trees and rocks, trying your best not to trip or get caught. You feel your breath shorten, and your lungs burn. A scream escapes you as your foot gets caught on a root, but before you can fall, something or someone grabs you, swinging you away from the baboons. 

You screw your eyes shut, not daring to look at what had grabbed you, feeling it would be better if you didn’t see what fate had planned for you. Your brows scrunched as you felt whoever or whatever was placing you down softly, and your eyes widened when you opened them, noticing the man everyone had been searching for. The lost man had saved you from being torn to shreds, and the excitement caused a jolt between your legs. You scanned his physic, noticing how tanned and beautiful he looked. Your eyes landed on his face lastly, eyeing the moustache and imagining what it would feel like in between your thighs, his unbrushed hair all curled and wild, like him. 

Tangerine’s head tilts, doing the same to you. He was curious, never having seen someone like you before. He’s seen others that look like him, but none so… Beautiful, so soft looking. He licked his lips, scanning you like you were a meal for him to feast on. He glared when you lifted your hand, and you returned it with a soft smile. “It’s okay. I’m not here to hurt you… I’m Y/n Jane Porter. Do you have a name?” Tangerine grunts, lifting his hand and cautiously placing it against yours, thinking of his words. You squeeze your legs together at his touch, causing his eyes to snap down to the sweet nectar that lies between your thighs. 

Tangerine’s hand moves from yours and taps his chest. “Tangerine.” Your eyes widen as the words fall from his lips, and you offer a soft smile.

“Like the fruit?” Your head tilts, knowing another name that would fit him. Tarzan stays on the tip of your tongue as you watch him.

He grunts again and stops, looking around before roughly grabbing you, causing a gasp to pass your lips. “Danger.” He growls. You are lifted onto the large man’s shoulders again as he begins to swing away just in time as the baboons swing, missing you by inches. Tangerine lands roughly on the ground. After a while of swinging and making sure you were no longer being followed, he lets you get off of him. You fall as your legs feel shaky, and you stumble back. He spins, eyeing you more, gazing at your exposed legs. 

You clear your throat, brushing the dirt from your dress. “Thank you again.” Your chest moves up and down as you breathe heavily. You try and keep your eyes from looking at the bulge hidden behind the tiny cloth. Tangerine’s eyes lock to your heaving chest. You watch as they become black, filling with feral lust. He stalks towards you, backing you into a tree. You feel your cunt pulse, the large man turning you on. “W–what are you doing?” You gulp, squeezing your thighs together when he traps you against the wood.

“Me do you.” Tangerine growls. He grabs your hips, dragging you onto the ground and climbing over you. “Stay… Still.” He grunts, trapping you with his large body and rubbing his bulge against your dripping cunt. Tangerine had never felt something so incredible, and he hadn’t even explored that far yet. He sits on his legs, looking down at you with dark eyes filled with lust and hunger, growling as your dress becomes annoying. Tangerine grips the material, shredding it and causing you to squeal and squeeze your thighs together, feeling yourself clench around nothing. “Annoying” You don’t know why, but this feral man's few words turn you on. 

You whimper, subconsciously spreading your legs for him, watching his mouth open and close as he glares between your legs, watching your pretty pussy drip. Tangerine growls as he dives in, lapping at your sweet cunt. Your back arches, and you let out a scream that echoes through the many trees. Your hands curl into the ground, legs slamming shut around his head as he continues to feast on your cunt, licking and sucking, wrapping his lips around your swollen pearl and sucking, flicking the sensitive little bud with his tongue. You move your hand into his hair, gripping the untamed locks, pulling him closer. “O–Oh! That feels so good!” You exclaim, feeling the band inside you tighten, ready to snap. “Keep going, please!” Your eyes screw shut, and your toes curl, but suddenly everything stops, and you open them again. “What are you doing? Why did you stop?” You felt furious, sexually frustrated. This was the most pleasure you had felt in your entire life, and you couldn’t let it slip from your fingertips. 

Tangerine growls and your eyes widen when you watch him grab himself. The tiny cloth has tented massively and keeps nothing hidden. He rips the pathetic material from his body and throws it aside, tilting his head as you make an embarrassingly loud choking sound. You look at him and back to his cock repeatedly, staring with your mouth open. “That’s not going to fit inside me.” Even as you say those words, your walls clench as you watch his cock twitch. 

Tangerine grunts, shrugging. He crawls on top of you, forcefully placing your legs onto his shoulder and tapping your gaping hole with his swollen tip. “Fit.” You gasp as he begins to push in, his hair covering his face as he puts his head down, never having felt something so good. “Good” The grunt he lets out causes you to clench around him and his hips to thrust forward, forcing his way deeper inside you. Your head rolls back into the dirt, closing your eyes as he picks up his pace, releasing the animal buried deep inside of him. Tangerine slams hard and fast into you, his cock so large it feels like he’s in your stomach. If possible, the bulge that forms causes him to become even more feral.

Your hands fly up and grip his arms, digging your nails into him before whimpering when he pulls out and flips you around, pushing your face into the dirt and lifting your hips before plunging back into you, grunting and growling as he fucks you like an animal. Your mouth falls open, and your eyes roll back, clawing into the ground and clutching onto it, trying to find something to ground yourself too. Tangerine grips your hips, pounding against you, moaning when he feels you grip his cock like a vice, dragging him deeper into you and allowing him to hit your sweet spot repeatedly. “Ah! Oh! Fuck… Right there!” You whine, fucking and grinding your hips back into him, wanting to feel him more. 

Tangerine pulls out again, your mind too fuzzy to get angry as he grabs you and pushes you against the tree, wrapping your legs around his waist and reentering your sweet cunt. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, mouth open in a silent scream as he fucks up into you, his lips against your neck, marking you as his. You are so close, feeling your walls pulsate and clench around the feral man, feeling so dirty and full. “I–I’m close!” Tangerine grunts, slamming harder into you, pinning you against the tree, not caring if the bark marks your flesh. Your vision goes white, and your body goes slack in his arms as your orgasm rips through you, squeezing his cock and coating it with your cream.

A growl rips through the large man. Tangerine bites into your shoulder, fucking deeper as he feels his balls tighten. He had only experienced this when he’d touch himself, teasing his cock and balls until he was close to cumming before stopping and repeating. He knew the release would feel amazing, causing him to continue to thrust, his hand moving between your bodies, locating your swollen, sensitive clit and rubbing. Your back arches, causing another orgasm to rip through you, and Tangerine groans, releasing his cum deep inside you, filling you with thick amounts as you squeeze his cock.

Your head slumps against his chest, your chest moving up and down heavily as you try and catch your breath. Your walls pulsate around his still-hard cock, wondering how he could still be ready for more. Tangerine cups the back of your neck, grunting as he makes you look at him. He grins, leaning close as he slowly begins to thrust again. “Mine.” 

The growl can still be heard as you realise you will never be able to leave again, but maybe that was a good thing.

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