#this is to say i have little doubts but more hope it could be good you know?

[calirph]

𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐘 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐘 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒 𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒. all these sentences come from a search on goodread's keywords for fantasy romance and romantasy. please change names, locations and pronouns as you see fit. some of these might be suggestive.

“Rejection is an opportunity for your selection.”

“But I will not run. I wouldn't be standing here if I'd quit every time something seemed impossible to overcome. I will not die today.”

“There is no me without you.”

“They say the soul cannot rest until it finds its match. Then it ignites.”

“You don't love someone because they're a dream of perfection. You love them because of the way they meet their challenges, how they struggle to overcome. You love them because together, you bring out the best in each other.”

“Do you make it a habit to compliment everyone who's trying to kill you?"

“Do you really want to put yourself through this? Is loving me really enough to endure everything you have to just to be with me?"

“Make no mistake, little human. You are under my protection now, and I protect what is mine.”

“Love is when you’d rather see someone one last time and die, than never see their face again.”

“You are sweet to be so concerned over my love life, but I’ve decided only to date guys who have bigger swords than me.”

“Laire, get back here! You do not drink before we meet with our mortal enemy.”

“She's magic, Cassandra. A single flower blooming in an endless desert.”

“I bring you the whole of my heart at the rising of the moon and the setting of the stars.”

“You're exquisite. You're transcendent. And you are mine.”

“Fight me, love. You'll need the strength at the pass. Let that power fly."

“Gods, there seemed to be nothing more humiliating than being attracted to someone who didn't feel the same.”

“Call him. Claim him. Speak his Name. Make him thine before all others.”

“They were all short lives. She'd just wanted to spend more of hers with him. She'd just wanted more time.”

“You could never hate me as much as you want me.”

“That’s the thing about life. To know there’s an end, to be unable to run from it, but to live anyway.”

“I would fetch you the moon if only to spare your tears again”

“I am Death. And you are a fool. I hope revenge is worth it.”

“They despise us because we are Immortal, but it is the blood that runs through our veins ...That they fear.”

“The time for hiding is over. The time for fear is over. The time for action is now.”

“You are powerful by birth but have it in you to be good by choice.”

“It's not protection, little dragon. It's a claim. You're mine. No one touches what belongs to me.”

“Maybe you’ve know what it’s like to be at the bottom, but I doubt you’ve known hell.”

“How can I even look at any other guy on campus when you’re always on my mind? Literally.”

“Love is a not a weakness.”

“My future had been set for me before I was old enough to question it.”

“No one doubts your honourable nature, most noble of kings and best of brothers.”

“When you erupt, girl, make sure it is felt across worlds.”

“Be everything you truly are. That’s all I’ll ever ask of you, my silver one.”

“But if we don’t have peace, we shall have you.”

“Oh, Gesela, do not pretend you despise my attention.”

“He was beautiful and cold, like winter…”

“Answer my question. Send to my will. Why have you come, sweet one?”

“When you spend so long trapped in darkness, you find that the darkness begin's to stare back at you.”

“Iron is made stronger in the hottest part of the fire, Seth. You didn't break me, you forged me.”

“The whole damn world could burn, and I would still love you. When everything dissipates, you're the only thing I see. You've always been.”

“I’ll happily play the villain if you’re my reward, Mareina.” 

“This realm’s moon hung on the skies, mine laid beside me, smiling and radiant.”

“If you're going to lie, make it a good one.”

“No one is killing my king tonight.”

“My beautiful Olivia, you are the moon of my night sky, beaming light and beauty into my life.”

“That’s it, my bride. Take your pleasure.”

“Perhaps, but the mind is also a powerful force. What you believe, you often see. And what you hope, often comes to be.”

“Patience is about as foreign to me as mercy."

“Remember that you are a wolf. And you cannot be caged.”

“I would have suffered a thousand more years to be with you.”

“It’s not easy to ignore an unfinished day that has been set on reminding you of its bitterness.”

“We aren't anything like strangers anymore, and certainly nothing like enemies. Compassionate like friends. Tender like lovers.”

“All or nothing. In dreams as in life.”

“You need me because I am the Queen of Ithicana.”

“You are mine, mo krrá. The same way that I am yours. From now until the end of time.”

“She would not be mastered by anything again; she was the master of herself.”

“When will you see I'm not your enemy, but your weapon. Wield me..”

“I may be evil but I do have a heart, Princess. It belongs to you. “

“There's no room for doubt on the wings of birds, let alone on the mane of moon dust.”

“I'll say it again. I don't care what you are. I care about who you are.”

“Your wish is my command, my queen.”

“I thought all you princes wanted was demure virgins you could pluck for the first time."

“Power was poison, one that slipped beneath the skin and which could turn even the purest soul into a wicked monster.”

“Love was a lethal weapon that rivaled the sharpest sword. It cut directly to the heart.”

“Morgan Pendragon is far from insignificant. She's a force of destiny and you would do well not to trifle with her or ever let her name cross your lips again.”

“I don't think I've ever met anyone as vexing as you,"

“That was what it meant to have power, wasn't it? You could simply destroy that which didn't serve you.”

[annakabeybeh]

Batman & Robin #17 Review

I don't know if there's too much or too little to unpack here. I'm really loving this chapters and leaving me wanting more. It's steady and calm in the pacing without feeling boring. It's just perfect. Little by little it's opening the story of Memento and I absolutely love it.

The mix of past and present could be a little annoying to some but I feel it has a good effect because even if tells you almost nothing it still gives you a precedent of things to happen.

I love the way Damanian's character is being build, it's a change from his always sure demeanor. He always had doubts about himself but he tried to no show them so this Damian is a nice breath for his development.

Spoilers ahead

This panel is important.

1st Is he talking about the way he was raised? Talia and Ras or was a small backhanded comment about Bruce? It could be both but I love the idea of it being about Bruce. Yes, Damian is intellingent and brilliant for his age but that doesn't mean that he should be doing what he's doing. He might at that moment saying that Bruce could be more and do more by being a normal citizen than as Batman and it is a good take, boring in comic sense but it is an amazing take.

2nd The doubt about the need of Batman in Gotham, it is a issue talked about in a book I read, Batman and Psychology. The question is Batman the reason everything happens or everything happens and that's why Batman is needed. The question as far as I know has arose outside comics not in them and this being questioned for me it is interesting. It's a doubt beyond capacity of a character but more of need and reason (Do I make sense? I hope so)

This panel is something that I feel writers had made Bruce do over and over again. Bruce blames others for his failiures (Blamed Dick for Jason's death. Tried to guilt trip Jason about Damian's death -DAMN BRUCE, FUCK YOU!- and he even blamed and guilt tripped Damian about Alfred's death -Again, Fuck you Bruce) but this goes beyond that in my opinion, why? Because this is a Bruce that relies on his Robin, he's not an accessory, he's an extension of himself and it was shown not only with this interaction but with the chapter before but it also goes beyond just passing blame because it also shows that Damian is getting away and he doesn't like that.

Is this just jealousy of a parent as he watch his son drift away?

Damian had been raised to be a villain or a vigilante, his choice nevertheless and his connection with Thomas Wayne was bigger than Bruce expected. He understood him and he liked him, in a way that Damian might not like Bruce but in the way Damian liked and loved Alfred. I love the idea that Damian is seeing Dr. Bashar's as some sort of Alfred's substitute (I do not trust the man but Damian needed that support because let's be honest Bruce is not that, not for Damian and not for anyone.) This show Damian in a nutshell. A person that sees the world and sees not only what's infront of him but what it can be. He sees he can be bigger and better than what he's that moment.

I mean Bruce, your ego, keep it in check. He should have done this since the beggining but he didn't because of his ego but now that Damian is interested in someone else, looking up someone that is not him he became this kind of person. That's what I feel. I find it funny and it will funnier that there's nothing to doubt the man.

This interesting. She had been suspicion that Jack is Batman but this is not a comfimation of the suspicion but to show that despite everything Damian is Bruce's son and I love it. They're different but similar. I feel that this is like comfirming that he won't stop being Robin (Don't do that to me, I need more Damian content I love him so much).

The team up with Jason is something that would fuel more disputes between Bruce and Damian. Some sort of jealousy from both of them and I love the idea, they need to communicate but they are too stuborn to do so. Damian's fears and doubts about himself and what he thinks Bruce wants from him push him to not tell him stuff. That kind of stuff was something he shared with Alfred and he hadn't found someone to confide in so Bashar had stepped because he communicates and Bruce hadn't communicated he never had ease Damian's worries.

The title of the new chapter seems Chef's kiss to me. A reference to both Death in the family and Death of the Family. I have big expectations in next chapters. Tbh this is what Damian is for me.

[mothlau]

hello, for the kink meme, could i humbly ask you for leztappen and watersports/piss kink please? (and, if possible, with little to no desperation/humiliation?)

also, i wish you a happy new year, may it be filled with joy and good things for you!

hiii beloved!!! this one got out of control and also I hope it has enough humiliation. I tried to tone it down but honestly, it's piss play, you need the humiliation. anyway, happy new year to you too! 10 days too late but oh well! enjoy the piss play, puppy play, daddy kink and gp!max combo friends:3 (kink meme here)

6451 words :3

Most of their friends assume that it's Charles who's wrapped around Max’s finger. That she cannot say no to Max no matter how extravagant the demand may be, that whatever Max says or wants is final. To an extent, they're right. After all, she’s the femme, and according to people’s heteronormative minds, the one who is more feminine in the relationship is the one who cares more, who’s more attentive. 

Charles is wrapped around Max’s finger. But just as much, Max is whipped for Charles. If someone were to compare the amount of fondness they have for each other, people will quickly realize that it's not Charles who's wrapped around a little finger 24/7. 

It's Max. 

Max cannot deny Charles’ wishes; Max bends the whole world to give her lover the happiness she deserves. It's Max who spends nights upon nights to plan perfect getaways for their anniversaries, it's Max who gave into her wishes and got Charles the Steinway and placed the piano directly in their living room.

And, at the end of the day, it's Max who does everything in her power to make sure Charles enjoys herself. 

Whenever she notices something that Charles may find pleasure in, she stores the information away, making sure to bring it up when they're discussing scenes or new interests that may have sparked. Even with Charles’ overbearing eagerness to try new things with her, she  rarely initiates ideas. 

She's still shy, in spite of the time they've been together. It's endearing to Max, that Charles still blushes bright red when Max takes her bra off, that she’s still a mess when Max slides her hands down her thighs.

The list of things she wants to try is getting long, something that Max doesn't mind, per se. She doesn't, because in the end she can twist Charles into the perfect little puppet for her to toy with. They don't mind, because they’re certain Charles will like whatever they propose to her. 

He's toyed with an idea before, almost put it into action too, but in the end it didn't seem fit to make Charles piss herself without any rules set in stone yet. There's no doubt that the woman won't agree with it, but Max will rather postpone their play than do something that may make Charles even a little bit uncomfortable. 

So, despite her wishes and desires to break Charles, Max keeps everything under wraps. 

Whatever thoughts Charles shares with them during heated sessions and foggy mindsets, Max notes all in their head, safe to be used later on. Where to hit Charles, how to press her buttons theoretically, when to push, when to pull. Every little idea, all of them organised in Max’s brain, nicely and orderly. 

The last thing Charles told them about seemed easy enough when she first uttered her fantasy. Slap Charles’ pussy until she was cumming and begging for mercy. Simple, Max's done worse in her relationships. 

But with Charles, it wasn't as simple. She’s hit her lover before, tied her up and used whatever she fancied to break her, but it was always kept under an invisible, unspoken line. 

In spite of his cruel hands and words, Max can never truly hurt her beloved Charles. As much as it turns Max on, it pains her to cause her harm, even when Charles begs for that torture. Unless she's positive, one hundred percent and then some more, that at the end Charles will be drunk on pleasure. 

It's not unusual for their plays to be hit or miss, but Max prides herself in them being hits most of the time. 

They mention wanting to try new things during a relaxed dinner, when they’re almost sure Charles forgot about the things she's babbled on during a previous scene. And, of course, Charles agrees readily, albeit a bit timid and flushed. 

After that, it's smooth sailing on Max's side, at least. Charles is stuck with anticipation bubbling under her skin and the fear of uncertainty tearing at her conscience. 

To Max, who likes the waiting game, it's beautiful. To Charles, who is used to getting whatever she desires with minimum effort, it's hell. 

Every other day he makes Charles drink more than she can usually handle, slowly but surely trying to train the woman into holding her piss longer and longer. Most days it's a hassle which ends up with Charles whining and rushing to the bathroom, Max not bothering to stop her. But then there are some days, rare and in between, when Charles manages to go hours upon hours without running from Max's hold. 

The praise Charles gets also helps her, no matter how much she's trying to deny the humiliating claims. 

Almost a week later, Charles pushes a full bottle of water into Max's hands, making her look away from the laptop. Max doesn't need any clarification as to why she does this, nor does he need any pleas or guilty looks to nod at Charles' silent request. 

She trusts Max enough for the blonde to gain complete control over her bodily needs. Max can't help but smile fondly at it as they let the bottle rest on their thigh. Charles sits on the ground, head thrown back on the edge of the couch, minding the poorly balanced laptop. 

"Whenever you're ready," Max whispers, hand reaching out to tug at a few matted strands. Charles simply nods and allows herself to fall, Max's soothing touch being the only thing keeping her afloat. 

It takes Charles only an hour to finish the water, drinking obediently every time Max urges her to. She's even quicker to bring Max another one and one more, all whilst finishing them without any fuss. 

And then, as Max closes his laptop and opens his arms for Charles to crawl into, it only takes a few minutes for Charles' eyes to get cloudy and for her touch to get needier. The sight before her makes Max euphoric, an undeniable call to protect and please the withering woman in her lap. 

"You still with me, darling?" The words are barely above a whisper, but even so they grasp at Charles' conscience and pull her in just enough for the brunette to nod against Max's chest. All pliant and soft in their hands, Max isn't sure whether or not to move their play away from the couch and into their bedroom, where towels and mats lie specifically for what's to happen next. 

"Hurts a bit, Maxie," Charles says, voice all hushed and feeble. The hand resting on Max's bicep tugs and squeezes, a poor attempt for Charles to regain control over herself. 

"Colour, pretty?" 

It takes Charles a moment, already gone and drifting, but soon, she mumbles a simple and clear, "Green." 

"Do you want me to carry you to the bedroom, angel? I don't think we'll like our couch smelling like piss after this." 

Despite how embarrassing the words should be, Max doesn't find them shameful anymore. She’s been fantasising about this for months now, the idea of watching Charles crumble under her orders and hands, her lover losing whatever ounce of self-control she still has and letting it all loose. That's enough for Max to push away any shame that might've been left inside. 

With Charles, it's not the same. The woman’s face flushes a bright red, the color travelling under the collar of her shirt, painting the hidden skin in beautiful hues of reds and pinks. Almost as beautiful as the marks they flush over. 

Almost. 

When there's no answer coming from Charles, Max gets the unspoken message. As always, Charles wants Max to carry her, manhandle her as if she's nothing but a lightweight in Max's hold. Which, undoubtedly, she is. 

With a quick movement, Max stands, gentle hands reaching out to lift Charles with ease. Her perfect little girl whines and squirms, the sudden change already too much for her sensitive state. 

"This ok?" Max asks, voice full of worry. 

Charles can only nod again, words lost somewhere in her head, muddled by thoughts full of desire, lust, animalistic instincts. After the quick answer, Max takes her time getting them to the bedroom, mostly because with each sickeningly slow step she takes out of the living room and down the hallway, Charles becomes that much more responsive to Max's cold touch. 

In preparation for their scene, Charles spread out the puppy mats they’ve gotten, while Max took his time to make sure that nothing of value could be ruined. The pillows were all sitting on the reading nook next to the window, towels have been placed close enough to the bed that Max didn’t have to look around for them and amid the whole mess of colorful cotton and stark white paper, now lies Charles. 

Charles, her perfect girl, who looks up at Max as if she’d hung the stars in the sky and then proceeded to create a whole universe just for Charles. Charles, her lovely girl, who is barely able to hold back tears as Max refuses to touch her just yet. Charles, her divine lover, whose back arches off the puppy mats when Max's knees hit the mattress, wanton moans and whined pleas falling from between bitten lips. 

"Puppy," Max bites back a smile. "Puppy, can you sit up a bit?" They crawl on the bed, remaining above Charles without their knees touching the woman’s sides. "I want you to drink some more, can you?" 

"Yes," Charles breathes out, fingers tightening around the puppy mat underneath. "Yes, daddy. Anything for you, Maxie." 

Max's face fills with love and adoration for the woman writhing beneath. Such a perfect, responsive being, all belonging to Max alone. He couldn't be happier. 

Helping Charles sit up, back leaning on the hardboard, Max reaches for the bottle left on the bedside table. Another thing Charles prepared, in hopes that Max would make her drink it and push her to the edge. 

"You're being so good for me, Charlie. Making me so proud right now." 

"I am?" Charles asks, a look full of hope blooming on her face. 

Max kisses the smile off her face, gentle and careful. "You are. My best girl, perfect little one. That's what you are, Charlie."

"Maxie–" the human whines, pressing her face into their open palms. "Need you." 

Unable to stop herself, Max pushes with her malevolent teasing, a vicious smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. “You need me? How? Need me to touch your greedy cunt? Need me to slap it? Want me to press here?” Max's fingers push on the swollen bladder, light enough to simply make Charles cry out. “Or maybe you need me to fuck your dumb hole until you’re pissing all over yourself.” The woman sobs again, nodding along with Max's words mindlessly. “Which one is it, puppy?” 

“Yes,” she answers, muffled by her own hand.

“Dumb puppy,” Max smiles, feeling his chest overflow with butterflies and flowers. “Let’s finish the water first, then I’ll decide what you deserve.”

The silence that fills the room feels deafening as Max watches Charles. She is struggling to twist the cap off, fingers white with how hard she’s gripping the bottle. Max makes no move to help her, smirk still plastered on their face, eyes ranking up and down Charles' shaking body as she gets more and more annoyed. 

She lets out an exasperated whine, head hitting the wood behind him, “Max.”

“Yes, pup?”

Suddenly she has a handful of plastic to deal with, all while Charles stares at her with the same hurt expression she abuses whenever Max refuses to immediately give in. He can’t say no to her, no matter how much he’d like to watch her struggle some more. One simple twist later, the warmed liquid spills onto Charles shorts, seeping into the cotton and making Charles tremble.

Without uttering a word, Max grabs Charles face, fingers digging into the woman’s flushed cheeks to hold her mouth open. Charles tongue lolls out, expecting Max to spit on top of it, to push their finger past her lips and fuck her mouth ruthlessly. 

From her place above Charles, Max laughs. Her weight falls atop of Charles thighs, sweatpants clinging to her legs, making the restrictive touch feel worse. If he could, he’d take the pants off in an instant, but right now Max has to focus on Charles and Charles alone. 

Pink lips attempt to close around Max's fleeting forefinger, but the force Max has stops Charles before she can even whine. The water bottle feels heavy in her hand, and though it would feel rewarding to dump it over Charles' head, humiliate her further, Max knows that what’s to happen next will be even sweeter. 

“Charles,” she says, tone icy cold. Max sees her lover swallow, fear budding in her eyes. “Tilt your head back for me, mutt.”

That’s all the woman needs. Eyes fall shut, mouth slips open with little resistance and her head falls back. Max's hand still resides on top of Charles’ cheeks. She can’t stop herself from moving it lower, enticed with the beauty presented so effortlessly in front of her. It rests on the column of his neck, barely touching the trashed skin. 

Underneath him, shudders run down Charles’ spine, lips agape in a soundless moan. They’ve never seen something as beautiful before, not once in their lifetime have they witnessed such perfection falling apart mere centimeters away from them. 

Bright red spreads down Charles neck, skin hot beneath Max's hold. The woman’s cheeks, dusted scarlet and covered by a thin layer of sweat, invite Max to press kisses on the crimson expanse of her face. A promise of being able to do so after he breaks Charles consoles Max's urge to revere the angel. Her pretty girl shifts under her touch, eyes opening slightly to see why Max is not painting her skin in hues of purple and red. 

“Daddy…” Charles sounds wrecked already. “Why aren’t you touching me?”

“I am, silly,” Max answers simply, hand tightening around the brunette’s neck. “See?”

A pathetic whine rips through Charles sobs, fingers closing around Max’s wrist. It is so unbelievably easy to toy with Charles’ feelings, to push her buttons until she’s begging like a mindless, broken mutt. Max loves it, almost as much as she loves the gentleness that engulfs them after. 

“Let’s drink the water and then I promise to touch you however you wish.” His thumb presses in the neck juncture, eliciting a pitiful moan from his beautiful lover. “Colour, Charlie? You still with me?”

“Green, daddy,” Charles breathes out, her hold on Max's wrist relaxing. “Please, Maxie… Please ruin me. Need-- Need it s’ bad, baby. S’te plait”

Something about the slurred speech, the glazed look in Charles’ eyes when she pins Max under a lustful glance, the slight tremble in Charles’ hands and shoulders stops Max from pulling the woman’s head back. He’s never had Charles this far gone before they even started. Part of them wants to stop, pull their lover out and make sure she’s alright and coherent enough to know what’s happening to her. 

Reluctantly, she lets go of Charles, scooting back enough to loom over her while still presenting a form of comfort for her shaking lover. 

“Charlie, I need you to check in one more time. Can you do that for me, please?”

“‘M green, Maxie. Promise.”

The look that Charles fixes Max with is one of pure lust, undeniable desire burning hot in molten emerald. It sets Max back a few steps, a carnal desire spreading in her blood, wrapping around each and every organ inside of her. It tugs painfully at the ravenous wish to destroy Charles. 

Holding back those sinful impulses, Max leans back in, hand on Charles shoulder as she carefully presses a kiss on the woman’s nose. Soft and gentle, exactly the opposite of what Charles asked for. 

Charles mewls, fingers tightening around the material of Max's shirt. “Max. Fucking fuck me, you idiot.”

He moves without thinking, the ear splitting sound of a slap resonating in the room. “Impatient mutt, you have to wait for what you want or else I’ll leave you. Do you want to be here alone, without my help or permission to touch your pathetic pussy?”

“No!” Charles all but cries, thrashing under Max's weight. “‘M sorry, daddy, didn’t mean to be rude. Please don’t leave me.” 

The tears streaming down Charles’ cheeks ignite the fire further. Their body feels aflame, possessiveness spiraling inside their chest. Max is the only one who can make Charles cry like this, the only one who can light her body a bright vermillion with few and in between touches and stares. He is the only one who will never leave Charles, not in a time of need, not in a time of sickness. 

Never. 

“I’d never leave you, darling,” Max reminds her, voice dripping in honey. “I’ll stay with you for as long as you’ll have me.” 

“Forever?” Charles asks, gaze shy, yet hopeful. 

“Forever,” Max easily agrees, sealing the deal with a short lived kiss. 

The tenderness is just as short lived, mean fingers wrapping around Charles locks and finally, finally pulling her head back. The woman’s lips fall open as she swallows dryly at what’s to come. 

Max wishes she could capture the work of art unraveling in front of her, keep it forever with her, tucked into her phone for her to enjoy when apart from her lover. Shaking her head, Max pushes those thoughts aside. 

“I’m going to make you drink all of this water, Charlie. Gonna make you drown on it until you’re sobbing and pissing all over yourself, understood?” Her voice leaves no room for argument and Charles can sense the strictness. She nods, attempts to despite the hand holding her head still. 

Not a single breath escapes Max while he pours the water past Charles parted lips. Mesmerized, he watches the woman struggle to swallow, her Adam’s apple bobbing with each gulp she manages to take. Tears fall from her closed eyes, breathing becomes more erratic. Still, Max doesn’t stop pouring. Not when water leaks down the sides of Charles face and onto the mats, not when Charles closes her mouth to calm herself, the two simple taps the woman places on his bicep fueling Max's sadism. 

The last few drops fall on top of her closed lips, running down heated skin with ease. Flushed skin seems to make the water evaporate, heating it up and leaving Charles hot and bothered before Max. Her eyes, though shut tight, twitch with every momentary touch. 

What a sight Max made of Charles. What a beautiful masterpiece he had created, all for himself to marvel at. This angel, this holy being that’s at Max's mercy is the embodiment of deadly sins. Lust and gluttony and pride and greed, all paint the insides of Max's chest in shades of green and bleeding red. 

Hypnotized, Max stares. 

She is so in love with this woman, so in love that no one could understand her devotion. No other can compare to Charles, no other can even come close to how dear Max holds this woman.

A whimpered whisper of his name breaks him out of his day dreaming. Their eyes focus on Charles’ face, red and blotchy with dried tears, trails of water and saliva going down her chin. She’s splendid, perfect in each and every way imaginable. She’s more than Max deserves, more than what she could’ve asked for. 

In any way, shape and form, Charles is her God, her angel and muse. 

“Max, please.” And despite not knowing what Charles is begging for, what she’s holding onto Max for, he cannot deny her precious love. When she’s pleading and sobbing for Max's touch, she’d have to be mad to ignore such saccharine requests. 

“Yes, my love, I know. You want me to touch you and make you cum. Your greediness never fails to impress me,” she sighs mournfully, putting on an act to rile her pretty girl up even more. “Say, you think you deserve to cum? You really think you’ve been good?”

“Yes!” Charles sobs, digging her fingernails into Max's shoulders. “I’ve been s’ good for you, daddy! Drank everything and-- and held my piss like a good girl.” She’s crying again, choking on her own sobs and spit. It’s a pitiful image, but Max relishes in the loud weeps. 

Charles is just so bewitching when she’s reduced to nothing but a sobbing mess. 

Max hums, deep in thought as she pretends to weigh the limited options she has. They don’t want to tease Charles for much longer, doubts they even can do it without giving themself blue balls, but God, they want to. Briefly, she thinks back to the list of things she’d planned out to do with Charles today and suddenly she doesn’t care about teasing Charles. She’d rather overstimulate her until she’s blabbering nonsense and shaking. 

“Colour?” 

Charles frowns at him, pout tugging at her lips. “Green,” she mumbles, chin tucked into her chest. “Please, daddy. It hurts!”

“Oh?” Max quirks her eyebrow, smirking down at the corrupted little thing. “Where does it hurt, baby girl?”

Her hand flies from Max's shoulder, resting gently above her own bladder, careful as to not press on it. Max can’t have this. Without much care, she moves Charles hand aside, pressing her thumb into the woman’s swollen abdomen. 

Charles’ sobs rip through her body, writhing as she tries to get away from the pressure Max is putting on her. In one swift move, she pulls her lover down, shirt riding up along with the mats. He moves from his place atop Charles’ thighs, momentarily sitting on the mattress while observing her. 

Without the weight on top of her, Charles lifts his head, confused and dazzled. She spots Max quickly, and without much thought she gives Max her best puppy eyes, bottom lip jutted out to effectively pull on Max's heartstrings. 

“Daddy, please come back and touch me,” her girl demands, face smushed into the pillow. “Wanna cum, please.”

Gods, Max will never tire of hearing her beg. 

He doesn’t utter a single sound while maneuvering Charles to sit between her legs. Doesn’t sprinkle any mean comments in when Charles wraps them around Max's waist, ankles crossed behind her back to hold Max close. Even when Charles buries her face deeper into the pillow, Max doesn’t say a word. 

They’re observing, committing every detail unfolding in front of them to memory, tucking away the pictures for later. 

Charles whimpers into the cotton covers, holding back another sob. “Hurts, daddy.”

“Does it?” Max asks. Her fingers itch to touch, to claim what’s hers with dark bruises in the form of Max's palms. “Should I make the pain go away, puppy?” The woman nods minutely. Had Max not been paying attention, he might’ve missed it. “Alright, darling. I’m gonna take your shorts off now, ok?” Another easy to miss nod. “Can you check in with me real fast, angel?”

“You can take them off, daddy. I’m green, j’st really hurts. Wan’ cum but it’s too much.”

As soon as the shorts and soiled panties are off, Max holds Charles’ foot gently, bringing it to his lips. She presses a single kiss in the middle of her sole, making the woman giggle despite the discomfort she is in. It brings a smile on Max's face, hearing her pretty girl laugh like this, all shy and soft. Charles covers her face, hands hiding the beautiful blush Max's put on her cheeks. 

Still, she can’t hide her pretty pussy, bruising red and leaking down her thighs, making for the most unholy view, nor can she conceal the flush on his neck, going under the shirt and coming back on her hips and thighs. Charles blushes beautifully, Max has come to know. Her whole body turns the loveliest shade of red, from the tips of her ears when Max leans in to whisper sweet I love you’s in public, to her thighs, burning red under Max's ministrations. 

It’s truly and absolutely fascinating, to say the least. 

“How do you want this, Charlie? On your back or on your stomach?”

“Back,” Charles answers eagerly. 

Max chuckles darkly, amused by the woman’s enthusiasm to piss all over herself. “Well, pup, go ahead. Wet yourself like the dumb mutt you are.” 

It’s an interesting progression, what happens next. Charles’ eyes shut tight, a deep frown creasing her forehead. She’s silent, panting while she struggles to let go. Under Max's loving gaze, Charles breaks. Frustrated sobs wreck through her, fists balling into the mats. The image is enough to make possessiveness spark underneath Max's skin, igniting their desires to keep these moments safe and away from anyone else. To keep Charles to themself. 

“Max, I can’t.” 

In a way, Max understands her pain and frustrations. She can imagine how hard it must be to let go, how humiliating the idea of pissing herself must be for Charles. Worry seeps into her bones again. 

“What can’t you do, angel?”

“I can’t--” Charles cuts herself off with a loud mewl. “Can’t go, daddy!”

“Can’t?” The fingers rubbing soothing circles on Charles' ankle ghost over her leg, moving to her hip, touch cold and brief, before stopping on the woman’s abdomen. “Or won’t?” The press is just a brief, a green ticket for Charles to call it quits in case she changes her mind. 

She doesn’t. 

“Can’t, daddy! It’s too ‘mbarrassing,” she mumbles into her hands, hiding behind them as a form of faux-comfort. “Help, Maxie…” The hushed and broken tone makes Max blink at his lover. 

Realization floods him. “Oh, you’re such a naughty thing, love,” he says with a laugh. Her previous gentleness is gone, thumb pressing roughly into Charles bladder, making the woman squirm in discomfort and pain. “Needing me to make you piss,” Max tuts, shaking her head at the crying beauty laid before her. “Naughty, messy little one. You never fail to impress me.”

Back arching off the mattress, Charles thrusts her hips in the air, oh so close to Max, yet so far away. She humps the air, ivory teeth biting the back of her hand, canines digging into tanned skin without an ounce of self-control. And yet, she’s still not letting go. 

It’s a wonder, how she’s managed to keep it in for so long, despite Max's continuous teasing. It makes Max just that more hungry, craving to see Charles come apart at his hand. 

“Daddy--” Charles stutters, the frown on her face only deepening with each second in which Max tortures her slowly. “Can’t do it, Maxie. Need your hand on my clit, daddy! Hurts too much!” She sounds so completely and utterly broken, so distressed and in this moment, Max swears she’s never been more in love with the sounds someone makes, let alone with the person letting them out. 

“Since you’ve asked so nicely,” she agrees without a fuss, right hand moving between Charles’ thighs, finger pressing into her swollen clit, squeezing it harshly to draw out more needy noises from Charles. 

“Thank you, thank--” Charles whines loudly, teeth pulling at her fingers, bitemarks imprinted on them. Desperate sounds bleeding into the room plague Max's mind. “I’m gonna--”

But Charles doesn’t get to finish her warning. With Max's hand moving faster and faster over Charles’ clit, she finally comes undone. Her whole body goes rigid, before relaxing into the sheets as a hot stream of piss leaks down her thighs, soaking the sheets, the mats, Max’s sweatpants, everything. 

Max didn’t know what to expect when he was planning this. Piss, surely; a mess, of course. But she didn’t expect for it to be so… enticing. The idea of Charles pissing herself did fascinate her, but she never thought it will be this hot. Watching Charles break turns her on more than she’d like to admit; it’s maddening, intoxicating. 

The stream doesn’t seem to be ending, liquid glistening atop Charles skin, seeping into his shirt, the mats absorbing as much as they can. Max is surprised that not much gets on his own clothes, only his knees wet with how he’s standing on the bed, the shirt he’s wearing remaining dry, safe for the edges pooling around his waist. 

She’s impossibly hard in her sweats and the sinfully erotic image of Charles panting, eyes shut tight, pussy spasming and leaking, piss drenching her clothes and the bed she’s resting on… It takes everything out of her to not devour the woman, but despite her best efforts she can’t stop her fingers from twitching with need, moving from Charles abdomen down her thigh, squeezing the fat with brute force. 

“Charles,” Max breathes out, voice strained. “Can I fuck your thighs?”

Charles legs tighten around her waist, hands gripping at Max's forearms. They’re bound to be bruised the next day, but neither care. Max loves being marked and purple just as much as she adores putting them across Charles' perfect body. 

“Yes, yes, yes,” Charles chants, head thrown back in pure bliss. “Please touch me, daddy. Wanna cum now, daddy.”

Laughing to herself, Max reaches into their bedside table for the lube, fingers still massaging and squeezing at Charles thighs. “What, pissing yourself wasn’t enough to make you cum?” There’s no time to wait for the woman’s response. Max needs to cum just as badly as her sweet girl. 

The pretty blush spreading across Charles' body stops them for just a moment. A moment they uses to gawk at Charles, put some more images away in their head for later. She’s gorgeous. Thoroughly and unconditionally so. 

And Max, Max whose heart beats faster each time she steals a glance at her beautiful girl, Max whose stomach fills with butterflies and whose organs are wrapped in flowers and crystals and vines so thick they're making it hard to breathe, Max who cannot do anything but fall deeper in love with Charles, falls. She falls again and again, until she’s bruised and her knees are bleeding, yet she cannot stop. She wants this perfect woman, her perfect girl forever. Wants to fall for her more and more as their bones grow weak and the soil reclaims what belongs to it. 

The lube is cold when it hits Charles’ thighs, if the hiss she lets out is any form of indication of it. Not even the hotness that Charles emanates is enough to warm it up while Max sheds her sweatpants, cock springing free. He’s redder than Charles, untouched and begging to be buried in between Charles thighs. They’re both silent as Max guides Charles to squeeze her legs together, feet thrown over Max's shoulder to make it easier for her. 

Soft moans fill the room, Charles saccharine noises coating Max's dazed mind with a thick fog. Charles is a fuel, a fuel for unprompted decisions leading to handprints bruised on a tanned neck and fingerprints atop wide hips. Charles burns her, her touch burns deep into Max's skin, melting hardened walls with ease. It feels like she's boiling alive, underneath her skin. 

All because of Charles. 

His cock aches as he pushes its head past Charles' thighs. The press is astonishingly tight, so much so that Max feels the air being knocked from her lungs the more she pushes. God, she loves Charles’ thighs; she cannot get enough of feeling them around her, squeezing her, pulling her cock farther in. They want them wrapped around their head, their waist, their cock. Everywhere. 

“Angel,” Max moans, grip on Charles hips more secure with each shallow thrust. “You feel so good around me, angel. Your thighs were made to be fucked.” As an answer, Charles whimpers, biting on her bottom lip to keep the loudest noises away. “Made entirely for me to use, isn’t that right--” Max prides herself for the amount of self-restraint she has, but once she’s touching Charles, it all dissipates. 

“Yours, daddy. Only belong to you,” the woman agrees mindlessly. 

The drag across hot skin is rough, even with the amounts of lube and piss still on Charles legs. It’s mind numbing, uncomfortable enough to make Max hiss in pleasure as he increases the speed minutely. 

Charles' eyes are glued to her own legs, watching Max's cock poke out between them hungrily. If Max didn’t know any better she’d even say she’s salivating, mouth slightly open, tongue sticking out. But she’s not, because in moments like this, when Charles gets so focused on something that she doesn’t even blink, it’s almost like all her bodily functions shut down. All but her ability to stare and burn each detail into her retina. 

“You like watching your thighs swallow me whole, baby girl?" Max asks with a soft chuckle. “You have no idea how good you feel, love,” his words get stuck in his throat, another frail whine escaping Max. 

“Want you to touch me, daddy,” Charles whispers into thick air. It takes Max a moment to realize she’s spoken and then another one to take in what Charles said, but once she does her hand immediately moves to rest against Charles' clit. 

He doesn’t move it yet, waiting for Charles to break once again and beg for Max to make her cum. The thrusts don’t slow down, each one pulling Max closer to the edge. Volatile reds bloom across Charles' body, tainting Max's pale skin in its progress. She’d rather have the woman’s teeth stain her ruby and violet instead, but this will do. 

The sight of her beautiful lover alone can make Max cum. Seeing her so transfixed on the part where her cock peeks out, eyes glazed with want and lust only adds to the carnal effect she has on Max. 

Max is close, thrusts coming to a halt every time her navel touches the back of Charles’ thighs. He’s close and Charles is surprisingly quiet, yet just as spellbound. Without hrt own accord, Max's fingers rub over the woman’s clit, drawing out a series of rich whines and sobs, each more delicious than the other. 

She swallows them all with a hungry, starved kiss. 

In a flurry of chasing their own orgasm, Max's hand begins moving faster over Charles, sweet noises escaping the woman with each thrust and every press. The position is uncomfortable, Max's neck hurting as she leans down to press kisses on Charles face. She doubts the way Charles is folded is any better, but her lover’s only complaints are about needing to cum faster and harder. 

“Max, Maxie--” Charles chokes on her own spit. “Can I cum? Please, let me, daddy!” She’s sobbing again, beautifully so. Face red, with streaks of tears upon streaks of tears, saliva dripping down the corners of her mouth. 

Max almost doesn’t manage to give her permission, voice dying in her throat before she can get the words out on the first try. Their movements get that more clumsy with every pull back, the hand on Charles’ pussy stopping its strokes for a brief moment.  “Yes, sweetheart,” she says after her hips still enough for Max to recompose herself. 

That is all Charles needs. The granted permission, the grazing kissing Max continues to press all over her face, the hand that resumes its fast paced stroking. All of them tilt Charles over and with a single, loud keen, she cums all over Max's hand. 

Max isn't far behind. The woman brings her legs closer, impossibly tight, wishing to have Max's cum mix with hers. Max can barely breathe, air coming out in short puffs as he struggles to keep himself above Charles, lest he wants to collapse on top of his lovely girl. 

Charles' thighs are Heavenly around him. 

"Maxie," Charles moans, a quiet sob coming out of her. "Cum for me." 

With a whimper, Max goes still, spilling all over Charles' perfect thighs. The room is silent, safe for their heavy breathing and occasional whine Charles lets out. 

Blissful afterglow seeps into Charles' features, red bleeding out and leaving only coral pink behind. She's breathtaking, basking in her own orgasm, eyes closed and head tilted back. She's breathtaking, thighs still shaking around Max, hands letting go, without meaning to, of Max's arms.

Max's hand pulls away, moving up towards the woman’s mouth. The cum is already drying on her fingers, but that doesn't stop her from pushing two of them past Charles lips, watching with so much love as she sucks them into her mouth without a single complaint. 

God, Max just keeps on falling. 

"You're so pretty, Charlie. Been so good for me today," Max's tone is quieter, scared of breaking the moment they've created. Charles stays silent, only smiling up at her lover, completely blissed out with the fingers slowly pushing in and out of her mouth, resting on the brunette’s tongue every now and again. 

“Thanks, mate,” she whispers around Max's fingers. 

Max stops altogether, a stunned expression on his face. “Did you… just call me mate after I made you piss yourself and fucked your thighs?”

The smile Charles offers him is so stupidly endearing that Max can’t even find it in her to be upset by the absurdity of it all. 

“Alright, pretty girl, let’s get you in the shower. You reek of piss and I’m too tired to do anything else tonight,” Max says with a soft laugh. Her fingers leave Charles mouth, and though the whine the woman gives her does tug at her heartstrings, Max doesn’t give in. Charles can always fall asleep sucking on their fingers if she really does want that, but right now they’d rather take a long, hot shower and not think about the smell seeping into their mattress. 

“You have to carry me, though,” Charles informs him, matter of factly. 

Max scoffs, but nonetheless she stands and picks the woman up, throwing her over her shoulder. “I always carry you, idiot.”

“Yes, because it turns you on that you can manhandle me,” Charles scoffs back. “I’ll blow you in the morning if you wash my hair.”

Max sighs. “Fine,” she agrees, not bothering to tell Charles that she would’ve taken care of that without the promise of a blowjob. Charles doesn’t need her ego inflated any more than it already is. “It better be the best blowjob of my life, though.”

“Oh, you’ll love it, mon chou,” Charles laughs. 

Max doesn’t doubt it, but it’s nice to play the role sometimes. 

After all, Charles still hasn’t caught up on the fact that Max is so in love with her she’d give up everything to make her happy.

[mgghoney]

pairing// matthew gray gubler and reader || wc// 942

summary// you're surprised you're being rung first for once

"Your phone's been vibrating."

You look up at the girl, holding your flour-stained hands up as she laughs. "Answer for me?"

"On speaker?"

"Well I sure hope it isn't a stalker."

"It's a facetime."

"Can you prop it up on the counter?"

"Yeah."

"Is there a caller ID?" The other girl raises a brow.

"Some... white guy."

"Well, that makes one of two people." You nod as she answers, and you raise a brow when Matt's voice rings through.

"Well what do we have here?"

"Flour-stained hands that are about to smear the screen if you say something that could get us jailed." You wave, mixture stuck to your hands as the other girl turns around at the sound of a man.

"A MAN!?"

"Oh, my god. He's white too." She slaps a hand over her mouth, and Matt laughs.

"Who are you with?"

You introduce your friends, pointing to each one of them and motioning for another to come in, hand still working at the dough as the other girls look over to see him. He waves, and you hum. "This is Matt. He's my fourty-four year old white man best friend."

"Forever twenty one, excuse you." Matt corrects.

"Yeah, yeah, and I'm pushing fifty." You roll your eyes, squeezing at the dough.

One of the girls speaks up. "Did he dethrone white boy?"

"No. Matt's a man, unfortunately." You hum, staring at the dough. "I have him saved under fav white man."

"The dough's ready to rest. Go catch up with him." One of the girls shoo you.

"So you hate me."

"How'd you know?"

"Guess I'll just go kill myself, then." You roll your eyes, reaching to the side to wash out your hands.

"Hey, that's no fun." Matt hums. "Am I on speaker?"

"Yeah. I'll grab earbuds in a second." You nod, wiping your hands clean of the water.

"No rush."

You get your earbuds and settle on the couch, curling up.

"What were you guys doing?"

"Making dumplings. One of the girls wanted to try making them for the first time. I think you can tell just based off of..." You trail off, humming. "Why'd you call?"

"Wanted to see what you were up to. I've been at home these days and you haven't been calling." He hums.

"Yeah, I'm cramming in a handful of things before I start classes again." You look up at one of the girls on her phone and poking holes into the dough, holding back a laugh. "I think I overkneaded the dough."

"Hey, nothing a little science can't fix." He hums back. "You been alright?"

"Yeah." You raise a brow when you finally catch a good look at him, raising a brow. "Are you shirtless?"

"God forbid a man be shirtless in his own home."

"This is why you're not pulling."

"Don't be mean." He points, pouting. "Don't be mean."

"Sorry, dad." You roll your eyes, catching one of the girls staring at you. "If a rumor starts that I have a daddy kink you're gonna be reading my obituary very soon."

"I doubt it." He hums.

"Are you coming back soon?"

"I'll call you when I do. Do you wanna come grab me?"

"No car." You shake your head. "I'll pick you up on the subway, though."

"Not scared of my fans?"

"I think there's a fair chance that most people know you have friends anyway." You roll your eyes. "You been alright? Not too busy?"

"Not too busy at all." He shakes his head. "A short break."

"That's good." You hum. "I'm surprised you're not out wandering."

"I wanted to call to check if you're alright."

"I'm not home, but my family's fine. We're a little more south. I have... friends, and I'm sure you do too, who have had to evacuate." You rest your cheek on the back of the couch, staring at your friends.

"That's good."

"You alright? Family and friends?"

"A lot of friends have evacuated, but everyone's safe. Recovering won't be as nice, though." He hums.

"A lot of homes are going to have to be rebuilt." He sets you on the bedside, camera facing the ceiling as you look at your watch.

"Is it not dinner time for you?"

"It is."

"Did you eat already?"

"Went out with some friends."

"And you missed me?" You raise a brow.

"Yeah. Wanted to hear your voice. We haven't called in a while."

"I suppose so." You hum. "Missed you too. Can't wait to get you back here in the city."

"You'll be my first stop, promise."

"Awww..." You hold a hand to your chest, feigning comfort. "You say that as if you're not gonna book it to the indian place first thing."

"Hey, I'll be booking it and then you'll be joining me, obviously." He rolls his eyes. "How's the camera?"

"Clicking." You hum. "I took photos earlier."

"It's nice to think that I'll get a glimpse into your life outside of our calls."

"Hope my camera's serving its purpose too."

"It is. Always." He hums. "I'll let you go. I'm sure your friends have questions."

"One of them thought you were my high school classmate." You roll your eyes, humming.

"Which account did you change?"

"My discord." You watch as he picks up the phone again, waving at you.

"Tell her I'm honored."

"Oh, I'm sure you are." You hum, waving back. "I'll see you in a bit, Matt."

"Hey, you gonna come pick me up, yeah?"

"Of course I will." You smile. "I'll go with a pick up sign too."

"Then I'll be waiting. See you."

"See you. Love you lots."

"Love you too."

[lunarruled]

A sharp mind was something Kyleigh always appreciated, and she was so happy she didn't have to spell it out for Warren. Yes they wanted out and they were willing to take him with them. And maybe a few others, as long as they had the same goal in mind. Didn't matter if they couldn't fight that well, as long as they could kill those things out there and run she could make up for whatever it was they lacked. Figuring that she had said enough for the moment Kyleigh simply nodded to him, though she was a bit sad to hear that Warren thought so little of his own life. She understood why of course, but just because they were down now didn't mean they always would be.

"We're not saying bring the entire place with us man. I may not be the talkative type, but I have been observing the people here and not to be that asshole but not all of them were going to make it anyway. Pure luck has gotten some of them where they are now but that always runs out."

At the mention of this other woman, Kyleigh's eyes shifted in her general direction. If she had already mentioned wanting to get out then she would no doubt be more than happy to join them. Which was good, but they didn't need a rat among the ranks either. So they would speak to this Irina in private and hopefully their plan would be ready to launch. If Rosita was telling her that they could trust her then that's what they would do, unless she gave them a reason not to.

"Yeah he was three more words away from getting his jaw broken. Can't repair that too easily these days." The half lycan quipped back, happy that Rosita was with her on that. Warren had skills though, ones they needed so for the time being Kyleigh was going to have to keep her hands to herself.

~~~~~~~

Irina was a much more pleasant experience, one that helped to boost Kyleigh's confidence that this was going to work. A bit odd with three women and one man, but that was neither here nor there. The mention of a child and the hope that she was still alive was more than enough to let Kyleigh know this was for real, a bond beginning to form between the three of them in just wanting to know what had happened to their families.

"Then it's settled. We get out there because we are getting out there, and we do all we can to help each other. Like you said I would rather die doing something than sitting here doing nothing." Kyleigh didn't know how far they would make it, if they would ever see their lost families again. But she was tired of living with the guilt of not doing a damn thing, feeling like a sitting duck in this hellhole, and never knowing if a better life was out there.

Rosita fought the urge to let out a huff of laughter as she took note of the man’s expression, all bashful as Kyleigh scolded him.

“You… want out”, he responded quietly with something in his voice Rosita couldn’t place. Skepticism? Disbelief? Ridicule? It was hard to tell.

“I was prepared to die in this camp. I’ve obsessed over how long we could last. Taking all factors into account.. my most reasonable guess was that if we were lucky, we could last one or two more weeks. Maybe…”

He paused, shooting the half-lycan a thoughtful look, “Maybe I could live just a bit longer. Long enough to pick a better place to die than this place. It’s certainly worth it.”

Letting out a breath of relief upon her realization that this was a ‘yes’, Rosita decided to chime in.

“So you’re with us, then. We’ve been trying to find people to join us, we’re planning on leaving tonight since the guard who’ll be on duty is the least competent. Do you have any ideas that could help us, any idea who else we should bring with us? The more help we can get the better.”

Warren didn’t seem to agree with Rosita’s sentiment entirely.

“You should be selective with who you let in on this”, he chided with a hint of annoyance in his voice, “Look at the scuffles the people here are already having. Imagine how it would escalate if you put them in a high-stakes situation like having to leave a camp. No thanks. The only person I deem trustworthy enough is Irina. She, in fact, wants to leave this camp as well. Why don’t you get her, she has been sitting by those green barrels throwing a ball back and forth at a wall for hours. Just make sure Fred won’t listen in, who knows if he’ll rat you out.”

Kyleigh would probably agree to this, Espinosa thought, as she had originally intended to leave the camp with just her. Rosita couldn’t exactly argue with him either. He had a point. Internal conflicts could jeopardize the entire mission. (Although, admittedly, Warren’s demeanor wasn’t the warmest either, but she could deal with it in dire times like this.) Time to talk to Irina.

“I’ve talked to her before”, Rosita brought up, gazing at Kyleigh, “I think we can trust her. It’s probably better if we involve her in this— I think otherwise she’ll leave this place on her own. I doubt she’s gonna stay, no matter what.”

As Rosita walked away from the engineer, she couldn’t help but comment, “Well, let’s hope this guy won’t cause any ‘internal conflict’, though.”

—

Irina had reacted much differently than Warren had. The woman had seemed not only happy that Rosita had come to talk to her, but she had been curious about who Kyleigh was, as well. She had been dead set on leaving, having a five-year-old daughter named Raisa out there. Much like Rosita, she hadn’t lost hope that her family was still alive; she was willing to risk her life if it meant there was an abysmal low chance of seeing her girl again. According to Irina, her daughter wouldn’t be alive for much longer as she was in the care of her aunt, who she’d called ‘reckless and irresponsible.’

“I’d rather die trying to get her away from that horrible woman than die here having to live with the guilt that I’ve done nothing.. Everyone says they won’t make it long out there — but even if Raisa won’t make it long.. I don’t want Raisa to spend the rest of her life with her”, the mother spoke heartfeltly, breaking eye contact with both of the women.

[barbatos-sama]

this is an ask to the creator of the show this is so ominous. raggattha npc theory real maybe??

[savanir]

The What Corps?

“we have you now spook! there is nowhere you can run and hide with our new spectral tethers active!”

Danny winces at the small metal clips that have hooked themselves in his leg, some new GIW tech that is messing with his powers.

“oh yeah? I was just dying for you guys to give me a challenge” plan. plan. He's gotta think of a plan to get out of here and fast. He takes a steadying breath and starts to look for anything that can help him.

he can’t get caught here. He just can't. He simply won’t allow himself.

suddenly the two GIW goons in front of him click their earpieces to clearly listen to what someone else is telling them, Danny is very glad for his own enhanced senses.

“Operatives K and O, be advised, there have been sightings of a new ectoplasmic entity near your location. Other operatives report that it’s incredibly small and moves fast. watch your backs, this may be an ambush”

small and fast? it better not be some poor little blob ghost, Danny sort of hopes it’s some manner of ectowasp, at least that could be entertaining to see.

“you better not be hoping for back up, ecto scum”

“I have no idea what you are talking about”

It's then that a small bright green light zips on scene and weaves through crowds in the distance with ease and then speeds up towards the two operatives who do not hesitate to shoot, missing completely like the storm troopers they are.

Whatever it is, it is indeed going very fast but Danny manages to figure out what it looks like and it appears to be a… ring?

“hold it you tiny accessory shaped ecto fiend!”

The ring does a speedy circle around Operative O while K is lining up a shot and ends up blasting the poor guy point blank in his face, “O!”

Danny takes a step forward with an arm outstretched and a “oh damn! Are you alright?” on his lips when the ring takes the chance to slip on his finger. “Daniel Fenton of Earth”

Danny already had a freakout about a ghost jewelry getting on him, his experiences with those so far have been incredibly bad after all, what with the rings and crowns and pendants… now this damn thing is just straight up outing him! 

Thank the ancients the two GIW stooges are too busy with each other right now to pay close attention to what this weird ring is saying.

“You have the ability to overcome great fear” ah so this is related to him steeling himself just now? Maybe? or something??

You have been chosen” never good, we are back to freaking out again.

“Welcome to the green lantern corps” 

… the what?

Danny notices that his usual outfit suddenly has more green going on, and his DP symbol has some sort of… he guess it’s supposed to be a lantern, maybe? shape around it.

He’s somehow even more glowy now, and there is something on his face. Feeling its shape makes him think it’s some sort of mask.

The metal clip things are no longer attached to his legs though so that’s great!

“You’re not getting away so easily ecto scum! sentient ghost paraphernalia coming to your rescue or no!” They both aim their weapons to take a shot.

Danny figures he can now easily hold them back with his usual shields,“you guys realize you just called this weird ring sentient and thereby negate the whole nonsentie-ack!”

“Attacking a corps lantern is punishable offense as of the instatement of the galactic diplomatic immunity as declared by the-” Okay so now Danny is just raising his eyebrow at this weird as fuck ring. Just what is it going on about?

“notifying nearby lanterns and requesting assistance with apprehension of hostiles”

what?

“getting your friends to help you out vile spook? such a thing is useless with the Blackout still very much in place”

Well… the two streaks of green light in the distance is making Danny doubt that statement.

Maybe there is more to this Lantern corps thing than he thought… And something tells him his life is about to get even more complicated than it already is.

[medicinemane]

.

[plutotheplum]

Winter's Kiss

sylus x fem!reader

summary: luke and kieran rope you into spending christmas at the n109 zone (and kissing their boss).

cw: fluff, soft!sylus, kissing under the mistletoe, luke and kieran being idiots, found family

wc: 2.7k

a/n: merry christmas eve/christmas my lovelies!! some fluff for the holiday season! here's to hoping sylus turns up under our christmas trees :)

also on ao3!

Somehow, you’d ended up in the N109 Zone for Christmas.

It wasn’t like the barrage of texts from Luke and Kieran had weighed upon your decision, the rapid influx of messages from the twins demanding your presence for Christmas. That coupled with the image of Sylus alone on Christmas night hadn’t made your stomach churn and heart ache at all.

The year had been a tumultuous one. Wanderers, disturbing visions and wanted criminals had you on edge these past few months, so perhaps unwinding with said, now somewhat mellow, wanted criminals was warranted in some way. 

You heft the presents under your arms, moving your fingers to stabilize the wrapped goods when you feel one of them begin to slip. Shopping hadn’t been too difficult, although choosing a gift for Sylus had proved to be somewhat of a challenge. You weren’t sure whether to get him something heartfelt or to gift him a refurbished gun with new prototyped features that were advertised to the Hunter Association. 

The glittering streams of tinsel drags you out of your thoughts, a smile pulling at your lips as you imagine Luke, Kieran and Sylus decorating. You hear panicked, hushed whispers when you turn the corner, a laugh spilling out of you when you see the sight before you.

Luke perched atop Kieran’s shoulders, Kieran grumbling irritatedly when Luke flails and misses the tip of the Christmas tree, the golden star falling off only for Kieran to shift and have Luke catch it.

“It’s not that hard, you idiot,” Kieran grunts, his knees bending in an attempt to readjust to Luke’s weight.

“Then you try!” Luke protests.

“I thought you two were meant to be in tune,” you muse, stepping closer, over the strewn wrapping paper and bending down to add your presents to the growing collection under the Christmas tree. 

“We are,” they both say in unison, their eyes landing on you.

“You made it!” Luke says happily, squirming, “Boss will be glad.”

“ Really glad,” Keiran adds, his annoyance forgotten momentarily. “We’re glad too.”

You smile at them, crossing your arms over your chest. “It’s nice to see you guys too. Maybe you should try holding the star at the tip, Luke?”

“That’s what I told him!” Kieran says, letting out an aggrieved sigh. 

Luke huffs indignantly, adjusting his position yet again as Keiran steps closer to the tree, giving Luke some more leverage. It’s another failed attempt and Kieran is rolling his eyes, dumping Luke onto his feet unceremoniously. 

“You do me now.”

“What about her?” Luke asks, pointing at you.

“You could ask Mephisto,” you offer, pointing at the mechanical crow that was currently preening his feathers. “What do you say, buddy?”

Mephisto gives an indignant squawk, his little head turning away arrogantly, tending to his feathers with care.

“Nevermind,” you sigh, before looking towards the twins. “Kieran is taller than me, though.”

“Just get on,” Luke whines as he bends his knees, waiting for you to climb up onto his shoulders.

You open your mouth to protest, but there’s a warm hand curling over your hip, pulling you back gently, flush against a firm chest. “Let’s not badger our guest, hm?”

Deep and velvety, you have no doubts as to who this voice belongs to. Your head tilts back to find Sylus smirking down at you, his expression amused.

“Glad you could join us, sweetie. The N109 Zone isn’t usually so… festive.”

“Yeah, well, apparently you were missing me, so I figured I’d drop in,” you tease, a sly smile spreading across your face.

Luke and Kieran snicker until Sylus’ stern expression silences them, his hand squeezing at your hip in warning.

“I never said that.”

“Must’ve been the wind,” you murmur.

“Right,” Sylus deadpans.

You squeak when the red mist wraps around you, lifting you off of the ground, the golden star being thrust into your hand by the same swirling mist. The trio of men beneath you seem amused as the tendrils sweep you higher, closer to the top of the tree, giving you enough height to place the star right where it needs to be.

Sylus’ Evol dissipates as it sets you down onto your feet, the mist sweeping across playfully and making your dress flutter. 

“That’s one way to do it,” Kieran remarks, slinging his arm over Luke’s shoulders before they shoot each other knowing glances and disappear from the living room.

“You came,” Sylus says once the twins have left, his arms crossing over his chest.

“I did,” you reply, peering up at him, your hands clasping behind your back, “too bad you never sent me a personal invitation.” Sylus smiles, and you can’t help but think he looks softer in this light, the ruthless leader of Onychinus replaced by a man who seems less intense and more accommodating than usual.

“I figured Luke and Kieran would’ve gotten through to you,” he muses, his head tilting as he lets his gaze dip over you.

You do the same, taking in his sweater and trousers, trying to quell the inconvenient yet undeniable pull of attraction you feel towards him. 

“Well, they did,” you sigh, managing to drag your gaze back up to meet his, “although I can’t say I appreciated how many texts they sent.”

“The twins tend to get excited,” Sylus replies, reaching out towards you, his fingers tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

It’s hard to not notice how Sylus’ touch lingers for a moment, his expression looking a little absent-minded as though remembering something from the past. Your brows furrow, unable to decide between asking him or letting his touch linger further. His hand drops away after a few moments before he clears his throat. 

“I made dinner,” he announces.

You laugh, eyes lighting up at the thought of Sylus in the kitchen. You don’t quite believe him though, not when Sylus had enough money to hire at least a dozen personal chefs.

“You’re not serious,” you say, head tilting in amusement.

“I am,” Sylus smirks, his hand landing on your lower back as he guides you forward, towards the hallway, “Luke and Kieran pitched in.”

“Now I feel special,” you muse.

“I suppose you are,” Sylus replies, his expression sobering, “to all of us.”

You’re taken aback by the sincerity in his words, heart giving way to a flutter that you attempt to squash down by pinching yourself, not that it helps. This sense of belonging isn’t what you’d planned on, warmth blooming in your chest as you stare up at Sylus and remember the twins. It’s nice, really, to be valued like this. You can’t help but think you could get used to it. 

Laughter echoes through the hallway as you and Sylus move through it. You startle when Kieran shouts, his voice urgent. 

“Don’t move!”

“Oh, look at that ,” Luke sighs dramatically, feigning innocence as he peers upwards, directing his gaze above you and Sylus.

Bewilderment flashes across your face until you hear Sylus let out a low laugh. You tip your head back, eyes narrowing when you spy the sprig of mistletoe hanging right above where you’re standing. Mephisto adds in something that sounds like a suspiciously happy squawk, and you stare at the crow, realising you’ve been betrayed. 

“Funny,” you say drily, shaking your head. 

Kieran sighs just like Luke, as though he can’t quite believe the situation. The cunning expression in their eyes gives them away. 

Devious, little brats.

“Well, you can’t move now,” Luke says, sounding positively aggrieved. 

“I suppose you’ll just have to kiss, isn’t that right?” Kieran says, looking towards Luke. Luke nods, a self-satisfied smile settling on his face. “Those are the rules.”

“What rules?” you shoot back, glaring at the pair of twins, “there are no rules. I could quite literally just walk away.”

“Christmas tradition !” Luke and Kieran both argue, their faces looking a little crestfallen when they hear the tone of your voice, “you have to kiss!”

You can feel your heart twinge at the earnest tone present in their voices, your eyes flickering up to meet Sylus’. Strangely enough, he doesn’t seem to have any protests, his gaze boring down into yours expectantly. 

“You seriously have nothing to say?” you grouse, head tilting.

“It’s just a kiss, sweetie,” he replies, his arm wrapping around your waist to bring you closer to him. “What’s the matter, hm? Afraid you’ll fall for me?”

“The thought is laughable,” you retort, trying to ignore the soothing squeeze of his hand against your side; the unrelenting warmth that was currently seeping into you and melting your hardened resolve.

“I suppose we’ll find out,” Sylus murmurs, his fingers gripping your chin to tilt your head. “We have time.”

“Move a little to the right!” Kieran calls out, waving his hand.

“What for?” you ask exasperatedly, feeling Sylus step closer, moving you with him.

“For- for the aesthetic !” Luke huffs out.

The twins look a little impatient as you stare at them, your brows furrowing further when you see Kieran whisper something to Luke.

Sylus doesn’t let you dwell longer on the twins’ antics, his calloused hand cupping your cheek to turn you towards him. 

“Merry Christmas, sweetie.”

Your eyes flutter shut as his lips slot over yours, your hand curling around his wrist. Sylus kisses you like he means it, lips soft yet insistent, his thumb smoothing over your cheek. You forget where you are momentarily, knees feeling weak as you fist his sweater pulling him closer, rising up on the tips of your toes to meet his kiss better.

Sylus tilts his head, deepening the kiss. Your stubborn resolve weakens pitifully and you can only think about how perfect this moment is, how good Sylus’ lips feel, how warm his embrace is-

There’s a blinding array of flashes, white sparking out from under your closed eyelids until your eyes snap open, head turning to the side to find both Luke and Kieran with cameras in hand.

“Oh, shit,” Luke begins.

“I thought the flash was off,” Kieran mutters, frowning.

You grit your teeth, taking one step towards them, your eyes narrowing. “Give that to me.”

Luke and Kieran hug their cameras to their chest protectively.

“Christmas memories,” Luke laughs nervously when he sees the determination in your eyes. “Wouldn’t- wouldn’t want to lose those.”

Kieran nods in agreement.

“Boss!” They cry out when the cameras get swept out of their hands by Sylus’ Evol, one of them landing in your hands.

You click through the images, heat blossoming in your stomach when you see how intimate the kiss looks, Sylus’ body pressed firmly against yours, his hand on your cheek. It’s romantic, your somewhat eager response, Sylus’ tight hold, all captured closely through the lens.

“‘s nice,” Sylus murmurs, his chest pressing up against your back as he peers down at the little camera screen.

“ No ,” you shake your head vehemently, “it’s not nice.”

“We look good,” he whispers, his voice dropping lower, lips brushing over the shell of your ear.

You try to ignore the way his hands feel on your hips, his body pressing a little closer into yours. It’s hard not to agree with him the longer you stare at the images though, you do look good, and Luke’s interjection about Christmas memories has you feeling a little forgiving. 

“Fine, keep them,” you sigh, handing the camera back to Luke whilst Sylus does the same to Kieran, “but don’t share them, please.”

Luke and Kieran nod enthusiastically and you snag onto Kieran’s arm before he can leave, your voice dropping to a low whisper.

“Send them to me,” you whisper, “and not a word to anyone.”

Kieran smiles deviously and you roll your eyes, reaching up to ruffle his hair. 

“You’re such a jerk, Kieran.”

“C’mon,” he whines, “you love us.”

You smile up at him, your arm hooking with his. “Maybe just a little.”

He snorts and you let out a laugh, following after Luke and Sylus who had left earlier, talking about something else. Dinner goes smoothly enough and you refuse to tell Luke and Kieran what their presents are, despite their whining.

You feed Mephisto little bites of your food, your finger petting his little feathery head gently every now and then. He preens at the attention, letting out an odd sounding chirp every now and then when you tap his little beak and offer him some more food.

Sylus is seated beside you and it’s becoming increasingly difficult to stop stealing glances at the side of his face. The longer you stare, the more you can feel yourself falling deeper, a pressing crisis unfolding in your mind. 

Fuck . You think you might like him.

Deep rooted feelings of yearning never lead to any good, and yet, you were too impatient not to act on them.You wait patiently, fingers playing with themselves in your lap, for the perfect opportunity. 

It presents itself when Luke and Kieran break out into an insignificant quarrel, their eyes moving elsewhere. Sylus is already looking towards you and you’re leaning forward, cupping the back of his head to bring him closer, lips meeting his in a slow, sweet kiss. 

“What was that for?” Sylus murmurs when you break away, his eyes roving over the flush settling on your cheeks.

“No reason,” you reply nonchalantly, leaning back in your chair.

Sylus scoffs out a laugh, behaving seemingly unaffected. There’s a light flush dusted across his cheeks however, his tongue darting out to taste the remnants of you on his lips.

“This is for no reason too,” he says, grabbing your chin and pulling you closer.

You sigh contentedly when he kisses you, arms wrapping around his neck, your lips working against his a little feverishly as though you can’t get enough.

A cacophony of protests breaks out from the twins when they see you and Sylus kissing at the table.

“Gross! Get a room!”

You roll your eyes, breaking away from Sylus to peer over at them. 

“You were the ones that made us kiss,” you huff, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Yeah, we didn’t mean all the time,” Luke corrects.

“Deal with it,” Sylus interrupts, brushing a kiss to your cheek.

You hum happily, Sylus’ hand warm as it encases yours under the table. Luke pouts and Kieran mirrors him, both of them slumping back in their chairs.

You and Sylus get a little more privacy when you step outside, snow dusting across both of you, covering the shrubbery and trees. Mephisto swoops through the air, his mechanical wings flapping as he lands on a tree branch above. The icy chill of the wintery air isn’t so bad, not when Sylus is stepping up behind you, his chin resting on your shoulder as he holds you close to him.

“It was bound to happen,” he murmurs, kissing your cheek again as you stare up at the night sky, glittering with stars.

“You seem awfully sure of yourself,” you reply, squeezing his forearms.

“Let’s just say… I had an inkling. I know you, sweetie.”

“I don’t understand what you mean sometimes,” you sigh, peering up at him, head resting on his shoulder.

“You don’t have to,” he whispers, dropping a kiss to your temple.

You sway gently in his arms, pressing yourself closer, eyes slipping shut. You’d kill for more moments of peace like this.

It never seems to last for long.

The beginnings of torn wrapping paper begin to fill your ears and you peek through the glass window to find the twins tearing at their presents.

“Oh, these are sick !” Luke announces, beginning to twirl around the pair of knives you had gotten him.

“They have to wait!” you protest, reaching for the door, “Sylus, they have to wait!”

“Let them,” Sylus murmurs, dragging you back into his arms, his chest rumbling with laughter.

You can’t help but let out an exasperated noise, smiling up at him. Sylus lowers his head and you nudge your nose against his gently, pressing a tender kiss to his lips.

“What?” he asks quietly when you trace the curve of his cheek, your fingers splaying across his skin.

You kiss him again, revelling in the softness of his eyes when you pull apart. There's a strange warmth in your chest, an unknown pull in the back of your mind as though something familiar were evading you.

You feel like you know him too.

“Merry Christmas, Sylus.”

[luveline]

could you write bau!reader x aaron, reader is pregnant and baby is so restless and kicking a lot as reader is at her desk working and aaron is the only one who can calm baby down

ty for requesting <3 pregnant!reader, 1k

“Woh,” you mumble, almost clipping your head on your desk as you lean forward. “Oh, my gosh.” 

“What’s wrong, mama?” 

You wave your free hand weakly at Derek, the other to your bump. “Nothing’s wrong, handsome.” 

Derek laughs warmly and stands from his chair. “I don’t believe you. Come on, tell me what’s wrong. Or I’ll go get the big man and he can force it out of you himself.” 

Hotch’s never forced anything out of you, but he has kissed a confession from you before. He could do it again easily. 

You right yourself as the baby’s rampant kicking makes you feel as though you’ll pee your pants. “Derek, there’s some crazy stuff happening inside of me right now.” 

He smiles at you fondly. “I bet there is.” 

“She’s kicking the shit out of me.” Sitting up, your back twinges and relaxes, the weight of your baby bump spreading out. You’re very pregnant and the baby is extremely active. She kicks pretty much 24/7 these last few days, and it’s driving you crazy. “Do you wanna feel?” 

Derek presents his hand for feeling. You stand up, and Derek lays a hand across your bump. You don’t have to move it anywhere: the second he touches you, he can no doubt feel the baby’s aggressiveness. She’s aiming her little feet almost like she knows where your most fragile organs are. 

One rough kick has Derek taking back his hand. “She’s beating you up, mama.” 

“She hates me.” 

“She doesn’t hate you,” Spencer says, twirling in his chair to give one of his innocuous tidbits of information, “babies kick for all sorts of reasons. They kick when they’re hungry, or after you’ve just eaten because of the extra glucose shared via the placenta. Sometimes they kick because they can feel sensation through your skin.” 

Spencer stands up. You raise your brows. “You wanna feel?” you ask. 

He grins and offers his hand. You take it and place it against the baby’s restless feet, smiling at Spencer’s smile, a little enchanted by how fascinated he seems. At Spencer’s touch, she starts to kick quickly like she had been with Derek, and eventually you have to move his hand in the hopes she’ll stop. She slows, but the occasional stretch pokes at your stomach. You can see the distension of her limb even through your shirt. 

“She’s really going for it today,” you say. “Maybe I had too much brown sugar in my oatmeal.” 

“You know babies can tell the difference between hands?” Spencer asks. 

“I sort of guessed,” you say distractedly, rubbing at the baby’s kicking with the crest of your palm. “She doesn’t act like this with Hotch.” 

“Good to know he has that effect on everyone,” Derek says with a laugh. 

“I might go and ask him to make her stop. I’m gonna need a change of clothes if she doesn’t.” 

Derek laughs again, full-bellied, his arm wrapping around your shoulders in a pitying hug. “Aw, sweetheart, you’ll be okay. Just two more months and this will all be over.” 

“Well, you never know. The longest overdue pregnancy in human history was almost a hundred days, that’s more than an extra three months.” 

“Spencer!” you say, not truly shouting, but your volume escaping you as the horror of a year long pregnancy sinks in. “Don’t jinx me.” 

Your loud voice, or perhaps Derek’s roaring laughter, draws the attention of JJ and Hotch, who appear from the depths of his office with matching curious expressions. JJ begins down the steps to the bullpen, while Hotch stays at the balcony waiting for an explanation. 

“Baby Hotchner’s giving it large,” Derek says, rubbing your upper arm. 

“She won’t stop,” you complain, relieved to see your stern husband. “Can you come and set her straight?” 

You aren’t always so quick to complain to him, but this is too much. It feels as though she’s about to start doing spin kinks against your spine —it’s honestly the most she’s ever moved. When you were just a few weeks pregnant you’d longed for her to wriggle and show you a sign that she could feel you, but now you’d appreciate a few minutes of calm. 

Hotch follows JJ down obligingly, and he, surrounded by your curious coworkers and colleagues, without any hesitation (but certainly some care), slips his hand under your blouse to feel at his baby’s sharp kicking. He presses against what might be a foot for a few moments, his smile barely hidden, his palm warm. 

“She really is giving it large,” he says, the deep softness of his voice like a signal. 

The baby’s kicks soften, until, barely ten seconds later, they stop. Your spine ceases vibrating, and you can finally stand there without having to press your thighs together. 

“Thank you,” you say, holding Hotch’s elbow. He’s well and truly saved you. 

He rubs your stomach with his thumb. His dark eyes stay set on your bump. “You’re welcome.” 

“I guess baby just missed her dad,” JJ says. 

You look at Spencer. He doesn’t say anything. “No correction?” you ask. 

“No,” he says, pouting that you’d ask. “Either she missed the sound of his voice, or your reaction to seeing him has calmed her down. That’s not a big difference.” 

“It’s both, I think,” you say, paused by a big yawn. 

“Are you tired?” Hotch asks. 

“Urgently.” You let yourself sag forward toward him, gesturing for Spencer, Derek and JJ to look away. “Thanks for your help, boys, but I need something no one else can give me.” You collapse into Hotch’s chest for a hug. 

The bump is very much in the way, but he reacts accordingly, ushering your chest to his, cheek pressed gently to your forehead. “She’s exhausted you,” he teases under his breath. 

“She really has.” 

“I love how she settles with me,” he says, rubbing your back for a long, slow handful of seconds, before he pulls away enough to grin at you. “But I suppose she gets that from her mother.” 

“You’re very calming.” 

“So I’ve been told.” 

[okaylikeschaewon]

Hotter-N-Funner

~10k words, Roommates series, smut, Part 1 here

“... part of a punishment.”

“She did what?!” Mint shouted through the door right before a thundering crash echoed in the room.

“Mint? You alright?!” you called out, holding your ear to the door. “Mint?”

“Yeah, all good!” Mint’s disheveled voice came through. After a couple of seconds, he opened the door, rubbing his hip. “I fell.”

“You fell in the toilet?”

“Not in the toilet you idiot,” Mint shoved your shoulder. “So, tell me, how the fuck did you manage that on the first date?”

“A bit of an odd story honestly,” you started.

“How odd could it be?” Mint asked while grabbing a bag of chips off the counter. “Sounds like a simple case of another college hoe being horny.”

“Be nice,” you scolded him. “She’s actually really sweet. No jokes like that when she stops by.”

“She’s coming over?” Mint gasped through a handful of chips. “I can’t even remember the last girl you’ve had over.”

“I mean it,” you snatched the bag out of his hands and took a chip for yourself. “I really like this girl, I want to see where it goes.”

“Do you actually like her or do you just like that she’s hot as fuck?” Mint asked while he took another chip from the bag as you held it out for him. “What about that bartender you’ve been chatting up?”

“I don’t know man. I don’t think she’s actually interested in a serious relationship anyway, even if I did want that. I’m happy just being friends,” you replied. “But back to this girl, seriously, I had such a good time with her. And sure, it helps that she’s hot as fuck.”

“Yeah of course you had a good time with her sucking-”

“Stop it,” you gave Mint’s arm a little shove. “That’s the one part I kinda regret.”

“Regret? The fuck?” Mint cocked his eyebrows. “Head game that weak?”

“No, that definitely wasn’t the problem,” you sighed. “I just like… almost feel like we robbed ourselves of having a really special first time… does that make sense?”

“No.”

“Maybe you’re right,” you mumbled as you picked up a couple of dirty glasses from the table.

“Here,” Mint took the glasses from your hands. “Of course I get what you’re saying, and you already know I support whatever decision you wanna make. Just tell me though, why do you think this girl’s so special already?”

“Well,” you began before pausing to think for a moment. “One could argue the coffee date and even what happened in the bathroom was kinda forced-”

“You don’t say?” Mint dramatically gasped, feigning shock.

“But lunch wasn’t,” you continued, ignoring his theatrics. “And it went fucking perfectly, we just meshed so well, I swear I could talk to her for hours. The vibe, her energy, everything was just so… when I think about her right now, I think about lunch, not the coffee shop.”

“Sounds like my roommate’s in love already,” Mint teased. “Devil’s advocate, she was just using you for the free meal.”

“She paid for it.”

“You let her pay? That’s not like you.”

“Not exactly,” you elaborated. “We were hitting it off pretty well and the idea of me treating her to dinner sorta came up, so she snuck off to the bathroom and did the whole pay behind your back thing.”

“This might be the most unbelievable part of the story,” Mint chuckled. “Why the hell would she do that?”

“Obviously I don’t know for sure, but this is why I’m telling you I feel like there’s something more here,” you explained. “She could have easily done her punishment and then left, or even taken the free lunch and then left, but I think her logic was if I’m treating her to dinner later that she should take care of lunch.”

“Hmm,” Mint pondered for a moment. “Maybe you’re right about there being something here, and maybe she feels the same way. That would explain why she doesn’t want to make it seem like she’s using you for a meal.”

“I hope so, guess I’ll find out more tonight.”

“You like her enough to give up your fuck buddy? I doubt she’d be cool with you having one.”

“Absolutely, even after just one date with her.”

“That’s crazy, you’d actually throw away what you have?”

“I mean, she’s graduating this year anyway, how many more times am I realistically going to fuck her?” you considered your options. “Girl’s a damn genius and beautiful, she’ll be fine without me.”

“You’re losing her roommate, too,” Mint added jokingly.

“Damn,” you muttered under your breath with a smirk, thinking back to some wild nights. “I kinda forgot about that part.”

“Not so easy anymore, is it?” Mint teased.

“It’s fine, seriously Mint, I haven’t felt this way about a girl since Rina,” you replied. “But it’s also way too early, I’ve known this girl for less than a day.”

“What, you haven’t started picking baby names yet?”

“First I have to work on making the babies.”

“I hope she’s good at that part, otherwise you’re throwing away an absolute dime piece for nothing,” Mint laughed.

“Or, hear me out, I just won’t make it official until next year. That way I’m still clear until Sana graduates.”

“You realize half the guys at this school would literally kill to have what you have going on, and you’re here playing games?”

“I had my fun with her, I guess I’ll be doing half the school a favor by moving on.”

“Have I ever told you that you’re an absolute fuckboy?” Mint scoffed. “Sana is not just a toy for you to use.”

“Once or twice, I think,” you chuckled. “What was the first time again? When I brought that one girl back last year?”

“Oh yeah, the one with the massive rack, right? She was so fucking fit, can’t lie, I was pretty jealous of that one.”

“Yeah,” you sighed heavily. “I still think about her to this day. She’s really the one who got away.”

“Maybe if you didn’t decide to fuck her best friend, she wouldn’t have gotten away,” Mint burst out laughing as he snatched the bag of chips back. “Absolute idiot.”

“I was drunk.”

“Not an excuse,” Mint kept laughing.

“She was drunk!”

“Even if we accept that excuse - which we don’t,” Mint began shaking his head. “How do you justify the second time?”

“We were horny,” you shrugged.

“Idiot,” Mint chuckled. “The roommate had a cute smile though, I don’t entirely blame you.”

“Yeah, what was her name again?”

“Bro, you’re the one who slept with her,” Mint shook his head in disbelief, laughing at you. “It started with an ‘N’.”

“‘N”? Shit, I really got nothing.”

“Fuckboy,” Mint sang, before gasping. “Wait, should I be concerned about your roommate fetish?”

“Yeah, lock your door when you sleep,” you said casually while cleaning up some dishes left on the coffee table. “Mind helping me? I don’t want Zuha to get the wrong idea.”

“Fuck, even her name is hot.”

“Idiot,” you tossed an empty can at him.

“I know she’s pretty and all,” Mint began helping you clean up. “But seriously? I can’t remember a single time you’ve cleaned up just for a girl. Now that I think about it, you almost never bring them back to our room.”

“Not almost never. Never, not after Rina,” you replied as you fixed the pillows on the couch. “We have any Febreze left?”

“Yeah, in my room,” Mint answered as he tidied up. “Promise me one thing though.”

“What’s up?” you asked as you walked back into the living room.

“If you’re going into this one with serious intentions, promise me you’ll take it slower this time,” Mint responded. “You know I don’t give a shit what you do with your random hookups, but this isn’t a random hookup.”

“Is this because of Rina?” you asked as you casually sprayed ‘Ocean Mist’ into the air. “I told you, I’m all good with that situation.”

“I know you are,” Mint replied. “It’s just that sometimes when you climb too high too fast, the fall ends up being a lot harder.”

“Alright Socrates, relax.”

“Seriously bro, you know I’m just looking out for you.”

“I know,” you gave Mint a tight hug. “I really appreciate you, thank you.”

“And her name was Nayeon, you idiot.”

—

“Oh,” you gasped, louder than intended, caught off guard by how stunning Kazuha’s figure looked in her skirt and jacket.

“I’m not overdressed am I? I know you mentioned it was a casual place, I can quickly go change if-”

“You look stunning, I love how it brings out your smile.”

“Oh, thank you,” Kazuha turned away slightly, blushing profusely.

It could not be any more obvious that she was nervous.

“Please, come in,” you opened the door wide and stepped aside, a rush of warmth flowing through your body. Kazuha gracefully stepped into your room, leaving you admiring her long, slender legs with each step. She paused ever so slightly as she walked past you before looking around your room. “Have a seat, I’ll be right there.”

Kazuha nodded before stepping across the room and taking a seat on your couch, placing her small black purse on the side table. You quickly stepped into the kitchen and placed two flutes on the counter before filling them generously with champagne and walking over to Kazuha.

“Thank you,” Kazuha respectfully accepted the glass with a warm smile.

“You’re welcome,” you replied, taking a seat next to her.

The two of you took a sip together before placing your glasses to the side. For a moment, she simply stared at you, smiling nervously. Without speaking, you slid your body closer before wrapping your arm around the back of the couch behind Kazuha’s body.

“You smell really nice,” Kazuha commented, leaning forward into you slightly.

“Do I?” you replied, tilting your head slightly.

“Yeah,” she mumbled softly right in front of your lips as she closed her eyes.

The world around you began to gracefully fade away, leaving just you and Kazuha in a shared moment of pure intimacy. Your lips met, gentle at first, a tender brush sending a spark through your body, before gradually becoming more passionate. You found yourself losing yourself in Kazuha’s warmth as your lips pressed deeper against hers.

While the kiss, slow and lingering, continued, your hand found its way to Kazuha’s thigh where it softly pressed against her soft skin. Your other hand fell from the back of the couch to the back of Kazuha’s neck. You savored each moment of closeness, that delightful hint of strawberry inundating your brain with a warm sweetness. Her hand gently made its way to yours, her delicate fingers softly intertwining with your own. The tenderness of your fingers lacing together amplified the connection - invoking a deeper sense of comfort, grounding you in the moment.

Instinctively, your bodies pulled closer, your hand slid down from Kazuha’s neck to the middle of her back, while her arm snaked underneath yours to wrap around your body. The hold you had on each other tightened while remaining tender, a subtle dance of intimacy with your bodies as your mouths stayed glued to each other’s lips.

Finally, the two of you break apart the kiss, breathing heavily into each other’s mouths. No words were shared, just an intense gaze as your eyes locked, turning the connection electric. For just a moment, the silence of your feelings was being taken in, the squeeze of Kazuha’s fingers against your body was all you felt.

Then, suddenly, she let go of your body as both of her hands grabbed your face while her lips collided against yours. Initially, you were pushed back by the sudden fierce urgency, but then with equal hunger and desperation you found your strength - now it was Kazuha’s turn to fall backwards.

The kiss was an overwhelming whirlwind of emotions, blurring your senses until you found yourself with your hands on Kazuha’s hips as her back hit the couch. She spread her legs, making room for you to move even closer as your body nestled into hers, still with electricity and passion flowing through the kiss.

With audacious intrepidity, you slipped a hand up Kazuha’s skirt, resting it against the side of her soft upper thigh. She gasped into your mouth, but she didn’t pull away - in fact, she did the opposite. She curled her fingers into your hair, pulling you even closer somehow, your bodies colliding, a testament to your shared passion, urging you to keep going.

Everything just felt right. This kiss felt right. Kazuha felt right. Your brain was desperately trying to make sense of your heart right now, and you found yourself coming to the conclusion that you wanted, needed, Kazuha. Nothing else made sense, the connection was too compelling. Then, you finally pulled away, leaving Kazuha breathless and wide-eyed, you could really feel the fire that the two of you just shared. Your heart was racing, beating out of your chest as you smiled down at Kazuha who was smiling back.

“I should have asked earlier, but you eat sushi, right?” you asked as you sat back up.

“Of course, I love sushi,” she answered, still breathing heavily.

“Perfect, you’ll love this place,” you replied, helping her sit up by taking her hand. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah, one second,” she paused, reaching for her glass of champagne and downing it. “Ready!”

—

“Breakfast, lunch, and dinner, who woulda thought our day would end up like this?” Kazuha smiled as she picked up another piece of otoro.

“Breakfast is a wild thing to say.”

“Oh my God,” Kazuha choked, laughing at your reference once she understood what you meant.

“Sorry, that was probably inappropriate.”

“It’s fine,” she laughed, taking a sip of her sake. “If anything, I’m surprised we’ve almost gotten through two meals without bringing it up.”

“Was I supposed to? I can’t say I’ve ever had an experience like that before,” you chuckled, taking a sip of sake as well.

“Trust me, it was new for me as well,” Kazuha replied. “I’m really enjoying spending the day with you.”

“I want to be completely honest with you, I really like you, a lot,” you started cautiously. “I know it’s super early, but I just feel something so special with you.”

“I really like you a lot, too,” Kazuha smiled warmly, showing you that smile, the one that absolutely melted your heart. “It doesn’t feel like the first day, it feels like we’ve been dating for a while already.”

“In a way, this is sort of the third date.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” she giggled before turning slightly more serious. “So then, can I be honest with you for a second?”

“Of course you can, anything at all,” you replied warmly, leaning forward slightly to show her you were fully engaged.

“I promise it’s not because of attraction, because I really am attracted to you, but I sorta regret what happened in the bathroom this morning.”

“Oh my God, me too!” you couldn’t control your excitement. “Sorry, please finish what you were going to say.”

“It’s just that… it’s going to sound a bit stupid, so please don’t make fun of me for it,” Kazuha began blushing. “I almost feel like I ruined a special moment?”

“I swear if I had a ring I’d be on my knees right now, I thought the exact same thing!”

“Really?” her eyes lit up, making her the most pure and beautiful girl in the world in your mind. “I’ve been thinking about it ever since lunch, I wish we could have found each other without the stupid punishment.”

“Look, Zuha,” you reached your hand forward and gently took hers. “It happened, but we can move on from that. I think you’re very special, I’d love nothing more than to see this out properly if you’re also willing.”

“I am,” she smiled softly, giving your hand a quick squeeze. “But if you’re asking me to be your girlfriend, I think the first day is still a bit too early.”

“Absolutely,” you agreed. “Let’s forget this morning ever happened and we can do things properly. The way we want.”

“I’d love that,” she blushed again.

“I have another one, sorta related.”

“Yeah? Shoot.”

“What do you think about being exclusive? I get it if you think it’s too early.”

She pondered the question for a moment, taking another sip and slowly putting down her glass before answering. “I don’t think it’s too early, at least, I don’t feel like it is,” she answered slowly. “I’m not actually talking to anyone else right now, but I’d be willing to make this exclusive if you are.”

“Me too.”

Kazuha hesitated, waiting for you to continue.

“It’s complicated,” you added.

“Oh, alright,” she replied, looking a bit disheartened.

“There’s this girl,” you began explaining. “We’re not in a relationship or anything, but we have a bit of a friends-with-benefits type thing going on.”

“Oh.”

“I know that’s probably not what you wanted to hear, and I’m sorry, but I really want to be honest with you, and of course I promise I’m done with that stuff now,” you replied softly. “My last serious relationship had some… I just don’t want to go through that again, I’d rather be honest with you about everything.”

“I get that, my last relationship also wasn’t great,” Kazuha frowned. “No, you’re right, thank you for telling me. If you don’t mind, do you think we can maybe keep past relationships to ourselves going forward? Sorry, but I don’t know if it’s something I want to hear-”

“You don’t have to explain, trust me, I get it,” you interjected warmly. “And I’ll say the same for you. We’ve both gone through stuff. I'm here if you need someone to talk to about it, but I don’t need to know every specific detail. The past is the past, it doesn’t affect whatever our relationship ends up being.”

“Thank you,” Kazuha smiled again, visibly relaxing as you spoke the right words. “Do you mind if I step away to the bathroom real quick?”

“Of course not, but you have to promise me you won’t pull that trick again,” you answered, flashing her a suspicious look. “I told you I’m treating you to dinner, this one’s on me.”

“Fine,” she smiled, rolling her eyes. “I promise.”

With that, Kazuha got up from the table, gracefully making her way across the restaurant. Her movements, fluid as possible, had you completely in awe, unable to take your eyes away. The way her skirt showcased her perfect legs, accentuating those meticulously sculpted curves, she had your breath catching in your throat, mesmerized and captivated by her grace.

She left this imprint on your mind, convincing you that she was something special. The honeymoon effect was hitting hard, even though you weren’t officially together, you knew it was inevitable at this point - you were going to make Kazuha your girlfriend.

—

“I’m getting this.”

“No you’re not,” you pushed her hand away and tapped your card against the reader.

“You got dinner, this isn’t fair,” Kazuha argued.

“And you’re pretty, what’s your point?”

Kazuha began blushing again, her fingers struggling to put her card back into her wallet. “Th-That has nothing to do with anything,” she stammered, unable to hide how flustered she would get whenever you gave her cheesy compliments.

“Sure it does,” you replied, reaching forward and taking her card from her shaking hand and inserting it into her wallet for her. “I appreciate the gesture, but really, it’s like four dollars, not a big deal.”

“Alright fine, thank you,” she replied, cheeks still flushed a light pink as she accepted her wallet back. “Have you been here before?”

“Nope, first time,” you answered as the two of you sat down. “You?”

“Yeah a couple of times, it’s really good.”

“Ah, so that’s how you picked the flavor so quickly.”

“Actually, it’s my first time trying this one,” Kazuha giggled nervously. “I kinda wanted to try something new, make a new memory with you…”

Your heart skipped a beat. “That is actually so sweet, wow,” you muttered, staring into her beautiful round eyes. “Hopefully it’s good then.”

“Or really bad.”

“Huh?”

“Think about it,” Kazuha began explaining. “Just like when you go to a restaurant, you generally remember the really good and really bad, no one remembers the average stuff.”

“Ah I see what you mean,” you responded. “That’s true, but I promise you I’m not going to forget this ice cream no matter how good, bad, or average it is.”

“And why’s that?” Kazuha chuckled, leaning back in her chair. “Don’t tell me, is it because you’re sharing it with me?”

“How’d you know?”

“You’re getting predictable,” Kazuha laughed, smiling brightly.

“And you’re so-”

“Pretty?”

“Beautiful.”

The way her face lit up when she smiled was absolutely enchanting. She didn’t know it, but she had you wrapped around her finger, you were starting to think you’d do anything for this girl. No, you already knew it, you would do anything for this girl. Your heart rate whenever she smiled was all the confirmation you needed.

“Your sundae, enjoy!” a cheery staff member dropped off the bowl of ice cream at your table. “Let me know if you need anything else!”

“Thank you,” Kazuha smiled respectfully at the young girl before turning back to you. “It looks good.”

“Then let’s find out if it’s as good as it looks.”

Kazuha picked up her spoon, scooping up some of the cookie crumbles and fudge ice cream onto it before holding it out for you. Taking her lead, you opened your mouth and let her feed you.

“Wow,” you mumbled as the taste hit your tongue. “That is seriously way better than I expected.”

“Is it?” Kazuha looked at you with glee.

“Yeah, here,” you picked up your spoon and returned the favor, feeding Kazuha the ice cream. Her eyes lit up immediately - she was so unbelievably cute. “Right?”

“You weren’t kidding, that’s amazing,” Kazuha gushed, going for another bite.

Something you noticed, and loved, about Kazuha was that she wasn’t afraid to eat. Even though she was exceptionally feminine and graceful, she wasn’t shy when it came to food. It was adorable, especially with how expressive she would be when the food was good. Within just a minute, full of spoon hitting glass, the bowl of ice cream the two of you were sharing was practically emptied.

“So, Zuha, you never actually told me, what’s your major?” you asked as you put down your spoon. “I just realized I never asked what you wanted to do after school.”

“I’d love to one day teach ballet, and my major is biology,” she answered, scooping out pieces of cookies from the bottom of the bowl before looking up at you and laughing. “You look shocked.”

“Sorry, it’s a lovely dream, I just wasn’t expecting it,” you chuckled. “So I guess the next natural question would be why the hell did you pick biology if you want to teach ballet?”

“Well, I’ve been training ballet my whole life,” Kazuha explained. “And I wanted to do something interesting and challenging on top of that, so I found myself in biochemical sciences.”

That would explain why she was so graceful, you thought to yourself. “That’s awesome, and quite admirable.”

“Thank you. It can be pretty tough managing all of that while still trying to keep some semblance of a social life.”

“You seem to be doing alright,” you replied with a smile. “Especially if you found time to go on a date with me.”

“I make time for things I want to do,” Kazuha smiled back, making your cheeks warm. “What, no cheeky response this time?”

“Sorry, sometimes it’s just so hard to focus on anything other than your smile.”

“There it is,” Kazuha laughed while rolling her eyes.

“Hey, I know it’s getting kinda late, but would you want-”

“I’d love to come over for a bit,” Kazuha cut you off, smiling brighter than ever.

—

“How could you possibly forget sugar?” you burst out laughing. “They’re cookies, that’s like, the most basic part.”

“That was Chaewon’s responsibility, not mine!” Kazuha defended herself. “Anyway, we tried making them without it.”

“You tried making cookies without sugar?” you laughed even harder. “I gotta know, how’d they turn out?”

“I don’t know, we ended up burning them,” Kazuha joined you in laughter. “I’ll have to make them for you some day.”

“After hearing about your baking skills, I think I’m alright,” you teased, picking up your glass of champagne and taking another sip. “I don’t think I’ll be buying your cookbook.”

“You sure?” Kazuha took a big sip before putting her own glass down. “I’ll even sign it for you,” she added, leaning closer to you.

“Depends what you sign it as,” you replied, putting your glass down as well, opening your arms for Kazuha to snuggle up with you.

“And what would you want me to sign it as?” she asked, her face right in front of yours.

“My girlfriend?”

“I thought we agreed it’s too early,” she whispered, moving her lips even closer to yours. “That one day wasn’t enough time?”

“It’s past midnight already,” you whispered into her mouth before leaning forward and closing the gap slightly.

“Have we really been talking for that long?” she whispered back, closing it some more.

And just like that, you found your lips softly brushing again Kazuha’s once more. The kiss was soft; Kazuha’s pretty eyes fluttered shut as she leaned into it, sweet and tender. The room went silent, completely still, as the air was filled with the lingering sounds of your lips colliding. A tender echo, her sweet breaths reverberating in your ears, perfectly describing the gentle and warm feeling you had coursing through your body as you kissed Kazuha. Delicate and calm, you got lost in her touch.

She brought her hands up to your cheeks, cupping your face lightly, leaning into you. Meanwhile, your hand explored her body, rubbing against her core, feeling through her top how toned she was. Your hand slowly slid lower until it was resting against the side of her thigh, slipping just a bit underneath her skirt.

Kazuha pulled back slightly, her eyes meeting yours, a hint of hesitation showing. “I’m not ready to go all the way,” she whispered softly.

“I’m in no rush,” you whispered back, pressing your lips forward again.

Her eyes shot wide open for a moment before she slowly closed them again, relief calming her down as she began gently prodding her tongue against yours. Then, to your surprise, she grabbed your wrist and gently guided it along her leg until your palm was resting against her soft ass before she brought her hand back up to the back of your neck, her fingers lightly grabbing your hair.

Following her lead, you gave her ass a gentle squeeze, making sure not to push past her boundaries. The way she kissed you, the increase in passion, was confirmation that she was okay with it. Her body was perfect, you got lost in the warmth of her skin, your fingers brushing just slightly against the fabric of her underwear by mistake.

Yet, she didn’t pull back at all. She didn’t seem to mind, at least that’s what her kiss was telling you. Kazuha was getting more and more aggressive with it, and soon enough you found yourself falling onto your back with Kazuha on top of you. Her hands which were previously squeezing your hair, returned to your face, cupping your cheeks again as her tongue pushed audaciously into your mouth.

Her passion was met with your own as you brought your other hand around her body, holding her perfectly sculpted ass in your palms. You gave her a few soft squeezes, addicted to her body, at this point your palms were placed directly on her ass, your fingers gently kneading her softness. Caution was slowly dissipating as you got more comfortable with each other’s bodies.

The moment felt like it was stretching, enveloping you in excitement, a sign of hopefully some future with the girl you were holding onto. However, even though you could have kept going all night, you could feel the natural end coming. With her cheeks flushed red, and a soft smile on her lips, Kazuha pulled back, breathing deeply above you.

“I could really get used to this,” she smiled warmly down at you.

“I’m definitely not going to stop you,” you smiled back before pulling her into your embrace, gently rubbing her back as you took in the lovely scent of her shampoo. “Zuha, it’s getting kinda late.”

“Are you kicking me out?” Kazuha giggled as she started to get off you.

Without hesitation, you pulled her back in even tighter. “Absolutely not,” you clarified, giving the top of her head a little peck. “I was just going to ask if you have class tomorrow morning.”

“I do,” Kazuha sighed heavily. “But it’s fine, I’ll skip it.”

“I can’t in good conscience be responsible for that,” you replied when Kazuha’s phone began ringing. “You going to skip that, too?”

“I probably shouldn’t,” Kazuha groaned as she leaned over towards the table, nearly falling off the couch if it wasn’t for you catching her. “Thanks,” she giggled before answering. “Hello? No, I'm not still out. No, I'm not drunk. Yes Chaewon-ah, I’m safe. Are you done? Oh my God, bye.”

“Cookie girl?” you teased as Kazuha sat up and began stretching.

“Yeah,” she yawned, arms straight up, her top riding up just enough for you to see her perfectly sculpted abs. “I had a lot of fun today,” she smiled warmly, her eyes twinkling as she let her arms fall to her side, shoulders slumped.

“I did too,” you smiled back, sitting up as well to give her another quick kiss. “Want me to walk you back to your room?”

“Actually,” Kazuha bit her lip nervously. “I kinda promised Chaewon that I wouldn’t drink tonight, I don’t really want her to know.”

“Zuha, you should have told me. We didn’t have to finish that bottle.”

“No no, I wanted to drink with you… I guess I felt safe with you,” she replied softly. “But now I have to ask, do you mind if I spend the night? I really don’t want to get scolded by her.”

“Uh, sure, but don’t you think she’ll be more concerned if you spend the night?”

“Nah, she’s going to have to get used to it anyway,” Kazuha replied casually while standing up and holding her hand out for you. “I’m going to be spending the night in my boyfriend’s room from time to time.”

“Boyfriend?” you stood up and grabbed her hand excitedly. “Does that mean…”

“Yes,” Kazuha silenced you with another kiss. “Boyfriend. Fuck timelines, I’m ready if you are.”

If only she could feel your heart pounding out of your chest. “Definitely,” you smiled back, giving her hand a squeeze.

—

“I’m pretty impressed that you have all this makeup remover stuff,” Kazuha commented as she walked out of your bathroom. “You have girls over often or something?”

“Umm.”

“Oh, I completely forgot about…” Kazuha’s cheeks turned bright red. “Sorry, ignore that.”

“Her name is Sana, but no,” you answered honestly, ignoring her embarrassment. “That stuff is from when I was with my ex. She was the last girl I let in my room.”

“I see, well, it’s very convenient regardless,” Kazuha replied as she looked around your room.

“You’re more than welcome to borrow whatever clothes you’d like by the way, I assume you’re not sleeping in that,” you added as you took off your shirt and pants before getting into your bed, admiring how incredibly stunning Kazuha looked even without makeup - this girl was unreal.

“It’s fine,” a shy smile formed on Kazuha’s lips before she turned around and began stripping down to her underwear as well. “You don’t mind, right?”

“By all means, whatever you’re most comfortable with.”

“I’m going to turn the lights off before I get in, alright?”

“Sure,” you replied casually while plugging your phone into your charger. “Just be careful, don’t trip on anything.”

“I will,” Kazuha responded as she shut off the lights. In the darkness, Kazuha took a second before slipping into the bed next to you, her beautiful face barely visible under the faint moonlight shining through your window. “Can I ask you another question?”

“You can always ask me a question.”

“How’d you like feeling my body earlier while we kissed?”

“Ah, what a question,” you chuckled. “Your body is fucking amazing Zuha, I can tell you work out a lot.”

“Oh yeah? How’s that?” Kazuha asked, her voice littered with allure in the most teasing way possible.

“Your abs, they’re rock solid.”

“Let’s play a little game, how about you try finding my abs in the dark?” Kazuha teased, giggling softly.

“Sounds fun,” you smirked, reaching your hand across the bed. You fumbled around for a second until your hand made contact with skin, soft skin. It took you a moment before you realized what you were holding. “Yup, that’s a titty, and you aren’t wearing a bra.”

“You’re right,” she giggled, grabbing your wrist and sliding it down until your hand was rubbing against her core. “And these are my abs.”

“Damn, they’re so nice,” you moaned softly. “We should workout together, you could train me.”

“Sure,” Kazuha whispered before sliding your wrist even lower. “And how does this feel?”

“Zuha,” you gasped as she placed your hand between her legs, and sure enough, she wasn’t wearing anything. “What happened to not being ready tonight?”

“This is different,” she whispered. “I’ve already sucked your cock in a bathroom, this is pretty harmless if you ask me.”

“Yeah, but-”

“If you’re not comfortable, I won’t be offended if you pull away.”

Yeah, there was no chance you were doing that.

“You’re sure about this?” you asked carefully as you began rubbing between her legs softly, feeling how wet she was.

“Absolutely,” she muttered, sliding closer to you.

“Then I want this to be perfect,” you whispered back, sliding your other hand under her body and wrapping it around her, placing it on her chest, giving her tit a soft squeeze. “Tell me what feels good.”

“What you’re doing now is nice,” she moaned as you rubbed slow and steady circles against her clit.

“Good,” you breathed before leaning forward and finding her lips.

As you began kissing her, you started moving your fingers a bit faster, sliding down her slit every few circles, teasing her entrance with the tip of your finger. You used her moans as your guidance, feeling for when you hit the right spots, hyperfocusing on what made Kazuha feel good. Once you began finding a rhythm, figuring her out, you started speeding up some more.

“Fuck that’s nice,” she moaned, separating her lips from yours, breathing into your mouth heavily.

With that moment of opportunity, you shoved your mouth into her neck and began kissing her collarbone. At the same time, you pinched her nipple softly with one hand and eased one finger into her pussy, just up until the first knuckle.

“Oh fuck,” she gasped, grabbing the back of your head with her hand and latching onto your hair. “Go deeper.”

And that was exactly what you did, pushing your finger deeper while using your thumb to rub her clit. You also took the opportunity to move lower down her body, leaving her neck and putting your mouth on her nipple, sucking it taut. With your mouth on one nipple and your finger lightly pinching the other, you found something was working because Kazuha’s whole body was moving up and down with her moans at this point.

Your fingers worked nonstop, gently fucking her pussy, daring to go deeper with each thrust. It was a balancing act of making her feel good and making sure you don’t go too hard, a balancing act that you were succeeding in, clearly. But you wanted more.

“Zuha,” you pulled back, looking up at her. “Can I go down on you?”

Even in the darkness, you could see her bite her lower lip nervously. “Maybe just… just fingers tonight… if that’s okay,” she mumbled quietly.

“No problem,” you whispered back before leaning forward and kissing her again.

She was hesitant for just a second before she got back into it, that burning passion returning with a vengeance. As you kissed her, you went back to slipping your finger into her soft pussy. She was warm, and incredibly wet, a soft wet squishing sound filled the room, mixed with the sound of your kiss, as you pushed your finger in and out of her.

With your tongue down her mouth and one hand gently massaging her tit, it really didn’t take much longer for you to start feeling Kazuha’s insides squeezing against your finger. In rhythmic beauty, she began moaning into your mouth, gasping and panting as her pussy pressed down hard. You slipped your finger out and began rubbing soft circles around her clit, making sure not to press too hard.

Kazuha rode her orgasm out for as long as she could, making sure to never separate her lips from yours. It wasn’t until her body finally relaxed did she stop kissing you. “I can’t believe how comfortable I feel around you,” Kazuha mumbled, rubbing wrapping her hands around your body gently. “To think, I only met you because of that stupid punishment.”

“You’re telling me,” you gave her a small squeeze. “I can’t believe how quickly things are moving.”

“Yeah,” Kazuha sighed. “I guess I set the tempo kinda fast this morning.”

“Zuha,” you paused to give her cheek a kiss. “We agreed to forget about that silliness, it doesn’t matter anymore.”

“I know, but I can’t exactly forget what I did,” Kazuha laughed softly. “Seriously I promise I’m not that type of girl.”

“Zuha-”

“Like, I know it kinda seems like it with what happened this morning and the fact that I’m literally laying in your bed naked, but I swear-”

“Zuha!” you interrupted her. “It’s fine, seriously, I wouldn’t have asked you to be my girlfriend if I didn’t really like you. So what if things are moving fast, who cares?”

“I guess you’re right.”

“Let’s just let things happen, do what feels right,” you added, playing with the muscles on her back. “Whatever feels natural, I’m here with you and committed to making this work.”

“Then how about you let me take care of you?” Kazuha giggled softly.

“What?”

“You realize I can feel everything in this position, right?”

“Alright well with how fucking hot you are, there’s not a straight man on this planet who wouldn’t be, not in this position.”

“I’m not blaming you,” Kazuha whispered, leaning back so that she was face to face with you. She slowly snaked her hand down your body, softly rubbing your shaft through your underwear. “It would be pretty cruel of me if I didn’t, not after what you just did for me.”

“I’m happy just holding you, there’s no pressure for you to do anything tonight,” you replied, your breath hitching as Kazuha slipped her delicate fingers down your waistband. “Really, Zuha, if you’re tired it’s totally fine.”

“Let’s be real with ourselves,” Kazuha leaned forward and kissed you before smiling softly at you. “Neither of us are sleeping much tonight.”

“Is that so?” you moaned as she took a gentle grip on your shaft.

“That’s right,” she whispered before pushing you onto your back. Then, inch by inch, she planted kisses down your body. She started at your neck, moving lower, kissing your chest tenderly, all the while still stroking your cock. As she moved lower down your body, she started stroking faster and faster, pausing only to yank your underwear down. “Did I ever tell you why my punishment involved sucking someone off?”

“No,” you flinched as Kazuha let a glob of her warm spit fall onto your cock.

“Because I love sucking cock,” she answered in a whisper.

Before you could respond, Kazuha engulfed your cock in her mouth, making a firm seal around your tip with her lips, prodding softly at your hole with her tongue. Then, she lowered her mouth, swallowing your whole cock in one swift motion before slowly - agonizingly slowly - pulling back up to your tip. After that, she repeated the motion a few more times, plunging down your cock and slowly withdrawing. Any degree of awkwardness from the first time had been replaced with familiarity now as Kazuha worked your cock like an expert.

“Fuck me, Zuha, that feels so fucking good,” you heaved, trying to catch your breath.

“Yeah?” she replied, her voice soft as sugar, before she leaned in and started kissing your balls.

“Yeah, the only shame is not being able to see that beautiful face.”

“Then turn the lamp on,” Kazuha cooed, tossing your blanket to the side and climbing over you, positioning herself between your legs before putting your cock back into her mouth.

As per her suggestion, you leaned over and turned on a small lamp you kept on your side table. With that, you felt your cock ready to completely erupt as you took a look at Kazuha who was staring up at you. Her eyes were so fucking beautiful. You couldn’t hold back, not with how good she looked right now with her cheeks hollowed, moving steadily up and down your shaft.

“Zuha, you’re going to make me cum,” you mumbled, straining and squirming your whole body as you desperately tried to hold back. “I can’t…”

She wasn’t phased at all, she just kept on sucking your cock at the same excruciatingly slow pace. The next who-knows-how-many seconds went by in a flash, instantly yet somehow lasting forever at the same time. She never once broke eye contact, and her mouth never once changed tempo, all that changed was how much pressure she applied with her lips, expertly varying it to make your cock feel that much better.

It wasn’t until the first burst of your cum flew into her mouth, hitting the back of her throat, did she finally stop moving. As your cum began volleying into her mouth, she held her lips tight around your cock, making sure not a single drop leaked through the smirk that formed on her face. Her eyes, those beautiful eyes, were fading into adorable little crescents as she proudly accepted all of your cum into her mouth.

“Holy fuck,” you cried out, your cock still pumping away.

Kazuha waited until the impulses slowed down, she let you slowly regain strength, but then as she felt your body relaxing, she started bobbing her head up and down your cock again as fast as she could.

“Please,” you moaned as your cock went into a frenzy, the final few shots of cum flying into Kazuha’s mouth. “Holy fuck!”

Once you were finally done, Kazuha slowly pulled back, letting a fountain of your white cum spill down your shaft as she lifted her lips off, tilting her back before swallowing everything in her mouth.

“I thought there was a lot last time,” Kazuha giggled, unable to contain her proud smile as she grinned from ear to ear. “But there’s so much more this time.”

“Zuha that was so fucking good, look,” you opened your eyes wide. “I’m literally in tears.”

“Good,” she smirked before leaning forward and using her tongue to scoop your cum off your shaft into her mouth. “I’ll do this for you whenever you want. Every night if you want.”

“I would literally die,” you inhaled sharply as her tongue grazed against your tip. “I wouldn’t be able to think about anything else all day.”

“Did you really like it that much?” she asked while licking nearing your shaft, looking for more spilled cum.

“Zuha,” you sat up and grabbed her by the arms. “Yes, I don’t know how to convince you.”

She looked deep into your eyes, her beautiful round eyes shimmering in the dim light of your room. Those beautiful features, the perfect face, sporting a soft expression as she stared at you. “I believe you,” she whispered before closing her eyes and tilting her head.

Without hesitation, you met her movement and pressed your lips firmly against hers, bringing your hands around her body and feeling her back. Her skin was so soft, you wanted to touch and feel her body forever. Unfortunately for you, the kiss did not last forever, and eventually you had to let go of her.

“I know we agreed not to talk about exes, but can I tell you something?” Zuha asked as she snuggled up in your arms.

“What’s up?”

“He’d never kiss me after I-”

Before replying, you pushed her chin up with a finger and kissed her mouth again. “Sounds like an idiot, no offense,” you replied casually. “I’ll never understand that. If I’m willing to suck on a girl’s vagina, I feel like kissing after head is really not a big deal.”

“I’ve never actually had anyone…” her voice trailed off.

“Zuha,” you let go of her and sat up, looking down at her. “Is that why you didn’t let me go down on you earlier?”

Her cheeks turned red as she avoided your gaze for a moment before she looked back up at you and nodded slowly. You bent forward and kissed her again, repeatedly, on the lips for about a minute before sitting up again.

“It’s entirely your choice, I’d never make you do something that you’re not comfortable with,” you began softly while rubbing her thigh. “But I want you to know, I’d love nothing more than to make you feel good.”

“I just can’t help but feel a bit embarrassed,” Kazuha admitted quietly. “It’s not that I’m not comfortable with you, because I am, I just don’t know…”

“I never want you to feel embarrassed around me,” you spoke softly as you moved down the bed and began slowly spreading her legs. “Do I have your permission?”

She hesitated again, as if fighting an internal battle, but then she nodded, her eyes shimmering as the early signs of dawn crept through your window.

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure,” she whispered back, adjusting herself to get more comfortable.

“Then just relax,” you instructed her softly before pressing your lips below her navel and leaving a long, very drawn out kiss on her skin. Then, as you slid a bit lower, you paused to reach up and grab Kazuha’s hands. She took your lead, interlocking her fingers with yours and taking a deep breath. “You’re so incredibly breathtaking, just tell me what feels good,” you murmured, letting the breath of your words hit her pussy.

Your mouth began drooling at this point, overwhelmed by how enticing Kazuha’s pussy looked right now as the sun crept through the window some more, making her body glisten beautifully. It was enchanting. You pressed your lips to her pussy, holding steady as Kazuha took a deep breath, letting her get truly comfortable with your touch before giving her pussy a tender kiss.

“You alright?”

“Mhmm,” Kazuha breathed, giving your fingers a little squeeze, encouraging you to keep going.

Even that small taste of her body had you desperate for more. You wanted nothing more than to shove your face as deep into her pussy as physically possible, to suck and lick her until the sun went down again. But this was less for you, and more for Kazuha, so you took it slow.

With your mouth opened wide, you carefully pressed down on her pussy, creating a seal with your lips and her skin. She squeezed your hand again as you stuck out your tongue and pressed it flat against her folds. You began pressing down, applying pressure with various parts of your tongue, truly relishing in the slight tang of Kazuha’s pussy. She tasted so addicting despite it being so subtle.

And just like that, you were addicted and completely consumed by Kazuha’s taste. Paired with the sounds of Kazuha moaning as you applied more pressure with your tongue and lips, you were in heaven. You moved around, exploring Kazuha’s body to your heart’s desire, pausing occasionally to give her inner thighs kisses before latching back onto her pussy.

The more you feasted, the more she gave. Your lower face was completely drenched in Kazuha’s wetness as she leaked all over you. It wasn’t possible to lap it all up, despite how hard you tried, but you tried nonetheless. As her pussy, wet and warm, responded to your touch, her moans became even more vocal. She was definitely trying to stay quiet to the best of her ability, but she was failing as she got closer.

Especially now, as you could feel her body trembling slightly, each lick made her body jolt. Each kiss sent her into a frenzy. Her moans crescendoed as you sped up, sucking and licking her pussy with all of your power, and her thighs began pressing against the sides of your head and her fingers threatened to crush yours.

Then, with a particularly hefty gush of pleasure jetting out of her pussy, Kazuha began crying out in pleasure, her body convulsing in your mouth. “Oh fuck,” she sobbed, digging her nails into the back of your hands. “That feels so good.”

All you wanted to do was make her feel good - nothing brought you more pleasure. You held yourself in place between Kazuha’s legs, not that you could move even if you wanted to thanks to how hard her legs were clamping down on your face, and you gently teased her pussy with your tongue, giving it a few flicks before planting a very soft kiss on her clit, sucking on it tenderly.

“Stop, stop, stop!” Kazuha moaned, letting go of your hand and pushing your face away, detaching your mouth from her sensitive clit. “It’s too much.”

As soon as she pushed your head away, you dove back in and started kissing her thighs, switching back and forth between them. You knew her pussy was far too sensitive right now, the most you did was let your breath hit her skin, even that earned a full-body shudder. You gave her a final kiss on each thigh before crawling back up the bed next to Kazuha.

She turned to face you, and without saying a word, she lunged for your mouth, kissing you passionately and deeply - harder than ever. You let her take control, she got to guide the kiss, regulate the passion to her desires. Kazuha went on for a bit, even wrapping her leg around your body, rubbing her warmth against you until she was finally satisfied. She backed up, looking you straight in the eyes, the most precious girl you have ever seen in your life.

“That was amazing,” she muttered quietly, unable to contain her smile.

“You’re amazing,” you replied, giving her butt a small pat before glancing at your window. “The sun’s up.”

“I’m not sleepy.”

“Me neither,” you smiled back, giving her another kiss. “So, what should we do?”

“Do you have class?” she asked.

“I’ll skip it if you skip yours.”

“I’m definitely skipping,” Kazuha giggled.

“Then I guess I don’t have class.”

“Perfect,” she turned around and snuggled her body into yours.

Within just a minute of being in your arms, the ‘not sleepy’ girl passed out, pushing against your body with each deep breath she took. You gave her one last gentle kiss on the top of her head before closing your eyes, unable to wipe the smile off your face.

---

A/N:

MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAPPY HOLIDAYS. I've been wanting to write this for so long and I finally decided to sit down and get to it. Words really cannot explain how into Kazuha I am at the moment, but hopefully this fic at least shed some light on my recent addiction over her.

I don't know what to work on next. The next Dating Seraphs chapter is going to be kinda Kazuha heavy, so I kinda don't want to post that right after this. I think this fic is the first time I've blatantly teased some of the other idols who will be appearing in Roommates, I hope that's exciting for some of you!

Maybe I'll try releasing something else around the New Years, we'll see. I'd love to hear what you guys think about this fic though, I can't rememember the last time I wrote this much straight up one-on-one fluff in a fic. There's going to be a third part to this mini series, and I promise you that one will have some sex scenes!

[juletheghoul]

primus

a/n: Something a little different, I am obsessed with General Marcus and the idea of him becoming a gladiator. Hope you enjoy this other world I want to live in lol, no beta and barely proofread!

Warnings; 18+ no minors, vague but big-legal age gap, piv sex, dirty talk, body / breast worship-Marcus gives it so right🤤, hand-stuff - female rec'g, taking of virginity, (reader is a slave so there is a power imbalance but so is Marcus), gladiatorial violence, nothing graphic- let me know if I missed any!

Pairing: Marcus Acaciusx F!Reader

word count: 3.4k

reblogs are appreciated

Masterlist series masterlist

--

The crowd roars loud enough to deafen, the sound of it like a great wave threatening to wash you out to sea but it's nothing new, you’re used to it. The house you serve, have served since birth, has done well for itself in recent years, all thanks to one Gladiator.

Marcus Acacius, the champion of the house of Romulus. 

You’d seen him come in years ago and although you had been little more than a child, even then you could see what he had been reduced to, disgraced and defeated and practically at death's door. He had fought though, Gods knew he had fought. And just as you grew and flowered into a woman, he honed his skills anew, won matches throughout the city and had transformed from the disgraced General of Rome, to a true champion of the people. 

You could see it even now, watching him make quick work of the paltry opponents sent to fight him in the arena. He swatted them away like troublesome flies, and the crowd loved him for it. The cup was held out to you, just as the man in the sand raised his sword. 

“He really is of a form.” One of the hosts of the games remarked about the man fighting below, and your Domina smiled proudly. 

“My husband has taken him and honed him, I dare say none in Rome are his equal.” 

“We shall have to see about that.” The guest chuckled, not quite convinced but your Dominus laughed, unperturbed and unconvinced.

“My wife speaks truth, my Ludus has shaped him into a God of the arena.” 

They continued their friendly bickering, while you watched the man below, you couldn’t deny his allure despite being more than a few years older than you. He looked up to the pulvanis and saluted to his Dominus, to his Domina, and for a heartbeat it felt as though his eyes locked with yours. 

Lightning struck in your belly, the intensity of his gaze, even so briefly made your heart race. Ghostly fingers squeezed at your heart when the opponents fell on him, cornering him until he was surrounded. Attention locked on him despite your station, the laughs and doubts of his victory wreathing through the guests you served turned your stomach.

Deaths in the arena were a guarantee, that was to be sure. Every time your Dominus secured spots for his gladiators in the games it was expected that not all would return, this felt different though. He had to survive, why, you could not be sure.

“Aha! There we are. The legend of him is proved. He is victorious, and my wife’s words are true, as always.” Your Dominus smiles, kissing his wife’s hand as the doubters grumble about luck and ill-trained opponents. 

The words flow over you, the only thing that draws your attention is the man standing below you, victorious and whole.

–

“The good wine, fetch it for me girl.” The sun shines through the balcony as your Dominus congratulates the gladiators who returned to the villa victorious. His wife, your Domina, sends you for the wine while he speaks at length of their virtues, stoking the fire of survival and vanity in them.

In truth the games hold no interest for you, never had you particularly enjoyed watching men fight to the death, it was a waste and had you the choice, you would never attend another.

They cheer louder than before when you return with the heavy jug, narrowly avoiding dropping it when he turns and catches your eye once more. Marcus has been invited out of the ludus below, and up into the main house. 

He is much bigger than you expect. Tall and broad enough to intimidate anyone but the most surprising thing are his eyes, they are the softest thing about him.

“I would reward you, for your victory, for the honour and wealth you have brought to this house. Name your desire and I shall see it done.” 

You pour for your Domina, ears straining to hear his voice.

“You honour me Dominus.” It’s so rich, deep and full of smoke. Your main focus is on not spilling the wine.

“I confess, I have felt a desire of late.” Your ears perk up, eyes following suit and when they meet his, they’re already set upon your face.

“You want her?” Your Dominus looks to you now as well, and you feel like a piece upon someone else’s board, to be moved around at their will.

“Only if she desires me as well.” He bows his head, and despite the tiny bloom of gratitude in your chest, your Dominus laughs.

“If she is what you desire, take her. The guards will lead you to the private quarters below and you may keep her there until the morning. I will have wine and a meal brought for the both of you.” Your Dominus waves a hand and it is done. Your virtue has been gifted to a Gladiator. 

Your Domina frowns, but says nothing. She merely watches as you are led away, to spend the night with the former General of Rome.

-

The quarters are indeed private, but meagre. A lumpy bed, a small table with two chairs, an even smaller table with a large basin full of fresh water and clean linen, and a window. The door closes and your heart jumps into your throat.

“Shall I disrobe and lay on the bed?” You reach for the hem of the tunic, silently praying that he would not be too rough. The prudent thing to do, is to get it over with. 

“No, wait-“ his hand engulfed yours, stopping you from reaching down and pulling off the fabric that hides your nakedness from him.

“I would speak a while, come.” He gestures to the table and you frown.

“Do you not desire my virtue? Is that not why you asked for me?” 

“Yes, well, in truth I desire your company, as well as your body. I have noticed you of late, you have grown into a beautiful woman and I find my thoughts drifting to you often. Of your voice and of your touch. I dream about you.”

Your eyes widen, shocked into silence by his confession.

“I would have you enjoy our coupling, rather than simply enduring it.” His eyes dart away from your form when the guards bring a platter laden with food and drink, and when he gestures again, you finally sit.

He takes his time cleansing himself of the grit and grime of the arena, scrubbing away until a handsome, lined face appears underneath. Once clean, and armor free he sits with you, and urges you to eat.

It is a silent, slightly tense meal. Your fraying nerves had you mostly picking at the fruit and cured meats. The flutter in your belly kept you from overfilling it. 

“How long have you served in this house?” His eyes are bright, curious.

“All my life. I was born in this house.” Your fingers fiddle with the edge of your tunic. 

“Are you treated well?”

“I mostly tend to the Domina, she is very kind.” Your eyes drift to the bed, and the bottom of your belly falls again to imagine what he’ll ask of you once his own belly is full. 

“You spoke of your virtue, you are as of yet untouched?” His voice lowers, almost apologetic. 

“Yes. Well, untouched by anyone, except myself. There have been covert kisses here and there, friendly ones with others of my station.” He says nothing, but his gaze travels the expanse of your body. The slide of them is heavy from your breasts down to the slit in your tunic. His food sits forgotten on the small plate in front of him, and now there is hunger of a different kind on his handsome face. 

“Do you find me desirable?” He leans back in his chair, broad and golden from the sun. Heat blooms in your chest, filling the corners of you. 

“You are kind upon the eyes, I will not lie.” He smiles at this, and the heat spreads to the place between your legs, the place he will fill soon and a shudder travels along your spine.

“Have you enjoyed my victories in the arena?” 

“I confess, I do not favour the games. Watching men kill each other holds no interest for me.” He laughs, surprised yet delighted. 

“And yet you live and serve in a ludus, watching gladiators come and go your whole life.” 

“The Gods have their reasons, I do not presume to question my place.” You shrug, unable to stop the corners of your lips from pulling up into a shy smile. 

“Perhaps it is I who is blessed to end up here, in your company.” He muses and for a moment you cannot face his direct stare. “Come, lovely one. Let us to bed.” He rises, holding out his hand for you, It engulfs yours when you accept and join him. 

Butterflies swarm as he guides you to the edge of the bed, the fine hairs all over your arms and legs standing on end when those rough, calloused palms skate softly over the curve of your shoulders. His breath fans over your face as he reaches the bottom of your tunic, pulling it up and off. The urge to bring your arms up over your breasts, to reach down and cup your sex makes your hands shake. 

“You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.” His hands settle on your hips, squeezing at the flesh for a moment before removing his own layers. The sight of him, naked as you, with his heavy sex hardening before your eyes makes you shiver, part nervous, part exhilarated. 

When he lays you down, you part your thighs to make space for him, once again praying the pain won’t be unbearable. The confusion paints your face in a frown as he lays beside you, and not directly on you. 

“I would have you wet for me before I slip inside.” His tone, his words send another shiver down your spine before he presses his mouth to yours. 

You have kissed before, a soft press of your lips to another, the barest taste of their tongue between rebellious giggles in the dark. Marcus’ kiss is nothing like that. He pulls you close, turning your body to press it to his, the stiff peaks of your breasts meeting the solid wall of his chest as his tongue slips past your open mouth and tangles with your own. For a moment, it is a little awkward but he guides you, pulling away before pressing forward again, leading you in his rhythm. 

Your heart races, a curious excitement pooling low in your gut, in the yet untouched place between your thighs. You press them together while he claims your mouth. 

When he pulls away, his breath comes out in pants and his sex presses hot and heavy against your belly. 

“Lay on your back my sweet.” He kisses your shoulder, and you obey. Now, you think, now he will shove that thing inside me and rip me in half. You swallow thickly at the thought, it is so much thicker now, too big, surely. 

He presses kisses to your shoulder, trailing them down to your arm, then the side of your breast before he pulls your nipple into his mouth. The steady suck of his mouth at the hardened peak forms a direct line to your cunt, the ache in it pulling a whimper from your mouth and a huff of self-satisfied laughter from him. Your skin is shiny with his spit when he lets it go. 

“Does that feel good?” His hand holds the plump of your breast, tongue flicking against the peak while you nod, mouth-open in a silent stare. “What do you feel?” He sucks at it again, harder this time and a gasp leaves your mouth. 

“I feel, hot. Warm all over, and an ache–” You pull in a sharp breath when his teeth pull teasingly at the bud. He soothes with his tongue, pink-cheeked and focused. 

“Where do you ache?” He lets go, smoothing his palm in the valley between before holding the other one, and worshiping it just the same. 

“I ache–oh, I ache–” It’s hard to focus when he sucks at the other nipple, your thighs pressing together without your permission. He stops, eyes flitting about your face.

“Where do you ache, tell me.” 

“I ache here.” He follows your hand as it cups your cunt, the soft, fine hair there soaked in arousal like you have never known. He groans to see it, and then his hand pushes yours away, slipping between your thighs to pull them apart. He leans on his elbow, muscles glinting in the soft candle light as his fingers spread open the lips of your sex, exposing your dark pink insides to his gaze. 

“Your pretty little cunt is so much better than I dreamed, spread your legs for me my sweet, I would work her open to take my cock.” Your heart races, your cunt clenches and then his fingers find the crux of you. They swirl slowly around the pert, sensitive pearl of your clit. Your mouth drops open in a silent ‘O’ at the way he manipulates you. 

“So wet already.” He lowers his head, lips wrapping around a nipple again as he keeps his slow, maddening circuit. Your hands grip the threadbare linen beneath you, whole body clenching as he shoves you closer and closer to a shattering climax with his slow, delicious circles. 

“Doesn’t that feel good? Doesn’t that feel so good, my sweet?” He presses his lips to your neck, whispering into your ear and you nod, frantically, clenching around nothing while the edges of everything blur with the threat of pleasure. Around, and around, and around he swirls, consistent, devastating until you can almost taste it. 

Your mouth forms a steady chant of yes, yes, yes, as he continues his gentle exploration between your legs, fat pearly drops of his own arousal slipping against your hip but he is in no hurry. 

The ache intensifies, the slick pools at the mouth of your cunt, and it's with a final, wet swirl that your climax washes over you. Your legs clamp shut around his hand, your body folds in on itself with the strength of it but it does not stop him, two thick fingers spear into your fluttering entrance, stretching and drawing out the pleasure of it while you gasp into his kiss. 

“Gods above.” You whisper to yourself as the blood pounds in your ears, the warmth of his skin, the slick, rhythmic sound of his fingers working away between your legs stoking the fire once more. 

“I could spill just watching you.” He pulls his fingers out, dripping in your lust and shoves them into his mouth. “Sweet as summer wine.” He licks them clean, vulgar and sweet all at once. 

Again he reaches between your legs, slipping his fingers inside once more but with his thumb swirling around the crux of you. 

He brings you to climax again, more intense with his fingers inside, petting at a divine spot you’ve never touched, and again, he doesn’t stop. He repeats his movements, his tongue flicking at your nipple, or licking into your mouth, until it’s too much and you push his hand away. 

“Please, no more–I cannot.” You gasp for breath, skin shiny with sweat, the spot beneath you wet where your arousal has dripped down and soaked through the linen. 

He laughs softly, proud and cocky at how many times he made you fall apart under his hand. 

“If you would let me, I would do that for days.” He presses another kiss to your shoulder before moving up and settling between your thighs. The nervous flutter intensifies as his cock slips between the mess he’s made of your sex. 

“I think you are open enough to take me now, I will try to go slow.” He kneels back on his haunches, lifting one leg up to hold. His fingers curl around the top of your knee, your calf resting on his shoulder as he grips his cock in the other hand.

Your belly trembles, part embarrassed, part excited to be so exposed to his gaze. The blunt end of it slides through your swollen folds, coated in your slick before he notches it and it’s with a slight burn that he slips it in. Inch by inch he presses forward, molding you to accept him, shaping you to fit him like a glove. 

“Gods above.” He curses low as he bottoms out, so deep you feel him in your lungs. 

Your hands ache from how tightly they grip at the fabric beneath you. 

With a shuddering breath he holds himself still, allowing you a moment to get used to the intrusion of him, only a moment. 

A sharp thrust pulls a gasp from your lips. His grip on your leg tightens, the other hand slides up and holds onto your hip, steadying you to accept the snapping of his hips. 

The flex in his arms, the strong, firm muscles of his thighs pressed up against yours, the sheen of sweat glinting on his face and on his chest, all of it only makes it better, his beauty and his obvious desire for you serve to make you leak around him. You can feel it, dripping down your ass to add to the damp spot beneath you, it collects at the base of him too, drenching the curls there.

Your pants, his heavy breathing, and the vulgar sound of his skin slapping against yours is the song of your coupling. The burn is replaced with a pleasant feeling of fullness. It is not as good as his fingers at your clit but his obvious pleasure adds to your own. 

“I’m going to come, going to fuck it deep inside of you.” Sweat drips down his nose and the vision of him, so like when he’s in the arena might push you closer to another climax. 

“Here it comes–” He presses your legs up, opening them wider, folding you in half while he fucks into you hard enough to make the bed shake. With a low groan, and a thrust deep enough to hurt, he swells impossibly thicker for a moment before emptying himself inside you. 

He shudders, grinding himself deeper as you wince, milking himself inside your body before pulling out and falling onto the bed beside you. 

You catch your breath for a moment. Surprised, and grateful that despite there being the edge of violence to his taking you, it wasn’t the brutal, awful experience you were afraid it would be. Considering your station in life, it was quite nice. 

“Give me a little while, and I will be ready to take you again.” He turns and presses his lips to your shoulder again. 

“Again…? You wish to take me again?” There is clear confusion threaded through your voice, but he laughs, goodnaturedly. 

“Oh yes, I have you for this one night, I plan on taking advantage. Did you not enjoy it?” He rests on his elbow, head held in his palm while his other hand skates over your skin, raising goosebumps in its wake as it palms one breast, then the other. 

“I enjoyed your fingers, you brought me to climax more than I ever have on my own in a single night.” You curl onto your side towards him, soaking up the warmth of his skin. 

“But you did not enjoy my cock?” His hand lands on your hip, holding you there and it’s curiously exciting how much skin he can touch at once. 

“It was… a lot.” He laughs, nodding for you to continue. “I liked the fullness of it, but you were very deep. I could feel you in my belly and when you spilled it was intense.” He lets out a groan before pressing forward and stealing another kiss. 

“It will feel better, we have to find which position you like best. Which angle you enjoy more.” He pulls you closer, tilting your chin up for another kiss, softer this time. 

“What position do you enjoy most of all?” Your hands gravitate to his chest, pressing against it to feel his heart thumping against your palm. 

“I am partial to being ridden.” He smiles, lip caught between teeth and heat floods your body to know he is imagining it. 

“Why do you favour it?” 

“Because I like when a woman takes her pleasure from me, It pleases me, to please her.” You could see it then, his soft eyes staring up in devotion as some faceless woman rides his cock. The longer you think on it, the more that faceless woman starts to resemble you. 

“I would have you like that next.” He smiles, and you smile back, nodding. 

By the time the sun rises, he has taken you every way you can imagine and your sex is so sore you don’t think you’ll be able to walk without wincing. 

When the guards come to take you both back to your respective places, they have to physically pull him away from you, his lips pressed against yours in a goodbye kiss. 

“You are the only prize I will ever ask for.” He calls over his shoulder as you smile at him.

For the first time in your life, you are excited about the next games.

-

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[rosenclaws]

The Wolverine and His Bunny || Logan Howlett x Bunny Girl!Reader

summary: You and Logan have always butted heads and his constant, condescending reminders of your mutation don't help. It's not until your forced to train together and well, the tension is undeniable

warnings: MINORS DNI, SMUT, 18+ ONLY, fem!reader, rough sex, a variety of bunny themed nicknames (Bunny, thumper, carrots), creampie, manhandling, pain kink (Logan), doggy style, dirty talk, blow job, mirror sex, slight choking, degradation, praise, he plays with your bunny ears oops, enemies to lovers kinda? Logan's a dick at first, teasing, being pinned down.

Don't like it don't read it :)

Halloween Masterlist

wc: 3.7k

a/n: Okay look, I thought this was hot and so I wrote it. Anyways happy October first everyone! Hoping to add my degeneracy to the long list of fics to come. This also ended up being more. angsty than i mean it to be. I think I have an angst problem oops

You hated him so much. He was. He was just a massive dick for no reason and you hated people like that. You get that he was the all mighty Wolverine who was indestructible or whatever but if he could act like a normal person for once in his life that would be great.

He wasn't even the leader of the damn team and yet every one seemed to act like he walked on fucking water. It's not like he was the only one on the team either. He may tell everyone he's a loner and he doesn't need help but we're the X-Men. Not just Wolverine.

It's just not fair.

You had the perfect plan. Planned down to the very second and Logan had to go and fuck it all up. Maybe it was an honest mistake but you highly doubted it. He always had a problem with you. You didn't understand why. The moment you showed up to the mansion he was hostile. Calling you stupid, condescending nicknames because of your mutation while ignoring the part of it that made you super smart.

You were fuming when the team got back from the mission. You stormed right past everyone to get to Logan. They shoot you apologetic looks but you paid them no mind.

"Logan!"

"What's got your panties in a twist bunny?" He leans against the jet hangar door. A cigar already lit in his mouth.

"Don't call me that asshole!" You shove his chest but he doesn't move. Your nose twitching in anger as he just laughs.

"I had a plan Logan. A good plan. A perfect. Plan. So tell me why as soon as you had the chance to, you ruined it!" He scoffs and blows a puff of smoke in your face. Your ears flatten against your head as you wave the smoke away.

"We finished the mission didn't we?." He says with a smirk. If this were a cartoon you'd surely have steam coming out of your ears by now.

"God you're nothing but a slimy little weasel sometimes!" You push your finger into his chest. He pushes your hand away and bares his teeth like an animal.

"You have no idea what it's like to actually be on the field so why don't you tuck your little tail between your legs and run back to the lab."

"Logan! That's enough." Jean scolds him harshly as you turn around and storm out of the room.

You feel tears welling up in your eyes but you force them down. Fuck him, you were an important part of the team. Whether he liked it or not.

It's like he lived to torture you. Ever since the day you told him off he seemed to just. appear. Constantly. Wherever you were he was there too. In the kitchen? He strolls right in for a soda. In the training room? He's already there. All sweaty and grunting and gross. You're outside near the water fountain, guess who strolls right on up. It was like he was stalking you or something.

Your ears perk up as you hear footsteps approaching your classroom. You taught most of the high level classes, the advanced ones for students who wished for more academic classes. So their tests were more complex to grade which is why you were still here so late into the night. Your nose twitches as a familiar scent fills your nose. Without even looking you let out a long sigh.

"What do you want weasel?"

"Now that's not very nice of you." Logan says with a smirk as he sits in the chair across from your desk. He puts his feet up on your desk. Right on top of the stack of papers.

"Can't you go bother someone else? Please. Like anyone else." He grins and you roll your eyes.

"But I just love your company." His voice is dripping with playful sarcasm.

"You're going to work yourself to death carrots. It's not good for you." The truth is he came to try and apologize for the other day but he just hasn’t found the right time. Okay well there’s been good times but he was never able to get the words out. So here he is trying his best.

He stands up and leans over your desk. You have to admit he's certainly an overwhelming presence. His face is inches away from yours, eyes staring into your soul with a wolfish grin on his face. He picks the pen out of your hand and throws it over his shoulder.

"Why not take the stick out of your ass and have a little fun?" Wow, for a second there you almost thought he cared.

"You know what Logan, just leave me alone."

"You know I'm trying to be nice here and all I'm catching is attitude." He growls. You slam your hands on the desk and stand up. Getting close to his face as your ears flatten. "

Nice? You think you're being nice?" You laugh in his face and he pushes back. Papers fly everywhere.

"Fine, work yourself to death I don't fucking care." He storms out of your room and slams your door loudly.

"Asshole!" You yell back. You turn back to see the mess of papers and sigh. Great, now your night got even longer. Logan mutters angrily as he stalks through the halls. So much for trying.

It's been at least a couple weeks since that night with Logan and thankfully he's finally decided to leave you alone. You barely saw him and in a weird way, you kind of missed him. Kind of. Barely. In fact you really enjoyed the peace. Your ears definitely didn't perk up when you heard Logan's voice on the other side of Professor Xavier's office. You push through the door and find Logan looking very pissed off.

"You wanted to see me?" You glance over at Logan who was fuming silently.

"Yes, I think it's time you join the team. On the field." You widen your eyes in surprise. You never considered yourself to be a field agent. Your mutation wasn't exactly built for combat. You were speedy but that's about it. Strategy and smarts were much more your speed.

"I think bringing you out on the field would be an immense help to your battle tactics. As Logan so kindly put it, being on the field is different from watching on the outside." You flash back to the harsh words Logan had said to you a while ago.

Logically it would be helpful for you to observe what missions were like first hand but you don't think you needed to be there. Still to get yourself a suit and be part of the team sounded nice too.

"And since it was his idea, Logan will be your instructor."

"What?!"

"Absolutely not." Charles gives you both a look, one that said to quiet down and you both reluctantly listen.

"I am not a fool,  the two of you need to learn to work together. My decision is final." His tone leaves no room for argument and the two of you leave with scowls on your face.

"Alright thumper, here’s how it’s going to go. Tomorrow. 7am in the training room. Think you can handle it?” He places his hand near your head. You roll your eyes and duck under his hand.

“Yeah yeah, see you then Weasel.”

It feels like this was meant to be a punishment more than an assignment. You get that you and Logan haven’t. exactly gotten along but to stick you together like this? That’s just mean. You showed up right at 7am the next morning dressed in workout clothes. Logan is already there dressed in his little gray sweatshirt, white tank top and sweatpants.

“So you didn’t run away? Good bunny.” He smirks as your face scrunches up in anger.

“Fuck off.” You’re already dreading this. If you could just survive an hour then you could never deal with him again.

"Okay, show me what you got." He stands in the center of the mat. Arms at his side with an expectant look on his face.

"What?"

"I heal bunny, so give me all you got. I need to see what I'm working with here." You take a deep breath and launch an attack.

You weren't helpless by any means but you weren’t on the same level as Logan, even you could admit that. He barely flinched as you darted around the room. Striking him in a few places but he just stood there. It was starting to piss you off. You get that you weren’t the fiercest but he could at least try and fucking help instead of wearing you out like this. You look around the room and see wooden poles used for combat training. He never said you had to just use your hands. You dart across the room and grab one, swinging it hard against his back. To your surprise it completely breaks. Shattering on impact. He grabs the broken half that’s left in your hands and pulls it out of them.

“That’s cheating,”

“No it’s not. I was just using my resources.” He laughs and grabs your wrist. He slowly backs you up until you hit the wall.

“Oh yeah? What you’re gonna find a really big stick out in the field?” He mocks.

“This is useless.” He lets go and walks away from you.

You feel anger bubbling up in your chest. You don’t belong. You’re useless. What good are you to the X-Men? You are sick and tired of hearing shit like this all the fucking time and Logan was the worst about it. You launch yourself at him. Running as fast as you can and jumping on his back. It blindsides him, he tumbles to the ground. He grunts as you start to hit his back hard.

“What is your fucking problem!” He pushes you off and you wince as you hit the mat. You scramble away before he can get up and jump back onto him. Legs straddling his waist as you push his shoulders.

“Why do you hate me so much?! What did I do to you?!” You take a swing and hit him square in the jaw. He looks surprised but shakes it off easily. He doesn’t fight back, more in shock than angry at this point.

“I get that I don’t have metal claws and I can’t move stuff with my mind but I’m part of the team too!” You swing your fist again but he catches it this time. He grabs your other one and pushes you to the ground roughly.

“Fuck off!” You hiss as he crawls on top of you. He’s heavier than a fucking boulder as he practically pins you to the ground.

“No you shut up and fucking listen.” He growls. He still has your hands pinned to the floor. An almost animalistic look on his face.

“You are so infuriating, everything about you drives me fucking crazy. So pretty, so smart, so easy to rile up.” He purrs. Your body feels like it’s on fire. What the hell is he even talking about?

“I say things without thinking sometimes but you, you make it so hard. Always running your mouth.” You squirm under him, trying to get free.

Then. He moans. He fucking moans.

You stop moving and stare up at him in surprise. Then you feel something hard against your stomach. Oh. He’s hard.

“No fucking way.” You say with a smirk. He may be on top of you but right now it feels like you have all the power here.

“Don’t tell me you were an absolute dick because you liked me?” He doesn’t deny it. Instead pressing you harder into the mat.

“Shut up.”

“Couldn’t handle your feelings so you decided to tease me like a fucking schoolboy.” You laugh and try and move your arms but he doesn’t budge.

“You know what I think, I think you need to lose the attitude carrots, I think a nice good fuck would do you good.” You scoff at his words.

“And you think you’re the one to do that? You couldn’t make a girl cum if your life depended on it, Weasel.”

“Is that a challenge bunny? Come on, say it.” He’s hot and horny but he’s giving you a way out.

If you tell him to fuck off he’ll leave and you both can forget about it, but if you don’t. If you say you want this. Well he’ll finally shut you up like he’s been dreaming about. There’s a moment of silence between the two of you. He’s breathing heavy like an animal and you’re studying his every move. Was this a bad idea? Probably. But you couldn’t deny that Logan was hot and right now all you wanted was to suck him off until he was milked dry. Shit.

“You can try, but I bet you won’t even last a minute.” He practically pounces on you. His face is buried in your neck as his hips grind against yours. You gasp as he bites your neck harshly. Eyes fluttering shut as he kisses it better.

“Dreamed of this, my bunny all wet and needy for me.” He nibbles up to your ears. Practically purring at how soft they feel.

“Not your bunny yet.” You bite back. He lets go of your wrists and sits up on his knees. He rips open your bra without the least bit of resistance. Mouth drooling as he stares at your tits.

“Fuck me.” He mutters as he harshly gropes your chest.

His thumb flicks over your nipple and you let out a squeak of pleasure. The last thing you wanted was for him to get an ego but fuck the way his hands feel on you is just so good. They’re rough and calloused and he is relentless in his movements. You almost whine when he stops playing with them, already missing his touch. He sheds his tank top, leaving him in all his muscled glory.

“Like what you see?” He asks cockily as he takes his pants off too.

“You fucking wish.” You mutter unconvincingly. You take your nails and rake them down his chest making him moan.

“You like a little pain don’t you.” You tease, digging your nails into his skin harder.

“Maybe I do.” You yelp as he shreds your pants and underwear to shreds.

“Those were fucking expensive asshole-Fuck!” You gasp as he buries his face into your cunt. His hands locked on your thighs, moving isn’t an option as he practically inhales your cunt.

“Smells so sweet, can always smell you bunny but up close is just. So much better.” You feel yourself start to melt under his rough hold. He’s absolutely overwhelming.

“Maybe later I’ll finally get a taste but right now I think I need to put your mouth to better use.” He pulls you up onto your knees. Stroking his cock as he pushes you down. Shit he’s big but you don’t even react, not wanting to give him the satisfaction.

“Come on bunny, open up. Be a good girl for me.” Fuck him if he thinks he’s going to be in charge here. You smirk and take him as far down as you can.

“Fuck!” He hisses, not prepared for you to do that.

“Fuck slow down.” There's a hint of desperation in his voice and you feel a sense of pride. You pull back and spit on his cock. Using your hand you coat it, looking him right in the eyes as you roughly move your hand along his cock.

“I think you need a lesson too,” His eyes roll to the back of his head as you take as much of him as you can.

Choking as the tip hits the back of your throat. You are unrelenting, eating up every little desperate sound that’s coming from his lips. Not so tough now are you Logan you think as you feel him twitching in your mouth. He’s so damn close and its driving him wild. You feel a heavy hand bunch your ears and pull you off.

“As much as I want to come down your throat and watch you swallow it all…” He wipes some drool off your face as talks.

“I need to be inside that cunt.” Then he grabs your face and kisses you, actually kisses you. You’re startled at first but melt into it. His lips are rough and he smells so much like tobacco and whiskey but fuck its intoxicating. He’s big, rough, and so fucking hot.

“You’re soaking wet bunny.” He taunts as he cups your cunt with his hands.

“I bet you’re just aching to be filled. Don’t worry, I can help.” He manhandles you with his crazy strength till you're on your knees facing the mirrors.

“See, you’re just shaking with anticipation.” He grins wickedly as he cups your face and forces you to look into the mirror.

He’s not wrong. He’s big and you can feel his cock nudging its way into your cunt. You’re panting, hair a mess. His hand looks so good around your neck and he looks even more delicious. Your vision blurs as he slides himself inside of you. The air is knocked out of your lungs as you feel nothing but Logan. Head up in the fucking clouds as he gives you a moment to relax, whispering sweet words to help ground you back to earth.

“Is your dick inside of me the only way to get you to be nice?” You ask breathlessly. Logan grunts, not happy that you’re still able to speak beyond moaning his name.

“I can be nice, I can be real nice.” He slides out of you at a slow, agonizing pace before thrusting harshly back in. You claw at the mat as he sets a brutal pace. In and out. Slow and hard. Pulling desperate sounds from the depths of your throat.

“Logan please!” You beg, you need him so bad. Need to feel him, need him to rearrange your fucking guts. “

So polite, now that’s more like it.” He leans in and kisses your neck roughly.

Claiming you as his own in his own animalistic way. He would tease you, continue to pull you apart on his cock for hours if he could. But the truth is he needed you. A deep carnal desire to render you completely fucked out. He leans back, pulling your back to his chest. He guides your hands to his arm.

“Hold on bunny.” Your nails sink deep into his skin, drawing blood as he sets a brutal pace.

Pounding into you so hard you see stars. Fucking hell super human strength and stamina really is a gift. He coos in your ear when he notices you starting to slump in his arms. Your legs burned, he was reducing you to a puddle of nothing.

“You okay pretty? Feel too good doesn’t it.” You nod, words not forming in your brain anymore.

All you feel is pure bliss and Logan feels a surge of pride in being the one to do this. You catch his gaze in the mirror. His eyes filled with pure, raw lust. His face was twisted in focus, brows furrowed and mouth slightly open. His muscles were bulging with every move. You couldn’t stop yourself from look. Watching as he buried his cock into you.

“I know you’re close, it’s okay. I got you bunny.” One of his hands slips down between your legs. He draws tight, harsh circles on your clit making you cry. You’re squirming wildly, it feels too good. His fingers are too much but you don’t want him to stop.

“Shh, that’s it. Just relax.” He sinks his teeth into your shoulder as you come hard.

Your legs can’t stop shaking. Logan tightens his grip on you, keeping you up right as he fucks into you hard. Chasing his own release, thrusting wildly and you fucking swear he whimpers as he stills his hips deep inside. Filling you up and then some. It’s a real shame when he pulls you, an empty feeling overtaking you. He loosens his grip and you almost face plant onto the mat.

“Logan..” You whine and he helps maneuver you to your back.

“Sorry carrots, didn’t mean to let you fall.”

“Don’t call me carrots.” You mumble, still completely exhausted.

“Okay, whatever you say, carrots.” You huff as Logan helps you stand up.

Your clothes are completely ruined but he somehow finds some extra sets of clothes in the closet. When did he even get up? Maybe you were still a little lost.

“Hey, you okay?” He cups your face gently. A slight look of worry in his face.

“Aw, you do care.” You tease. He rolls his eyes but doesn’t let go of you.

“I always cared.”

“Had a real shit way of showing it.” You snort and he just smiles softly.

“Yeah. Guess I did.” To your embarrassment you still can’t exactly walk right. Luckily Logan is right by your side. You mentally prepare yourself to tell people you hurt your leg or something when they ask why you’re limping so bad.

“I still don’t know what I did to make you hate me.” You say quietly as you reach your dorm room. He sighs and gently plays with your ears. It tickles.

“I don’t hate you, I never did. I just. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.” He can’t articulate just why he acted the way he did. He wants to, he really does but it just. Doesn’t come out. There's a long history of pain and loss and while you want to know why, an apology is certainly a start.

“Thank you,” He smiles softly, then realizes he’s probably overstayed his welcome. As if you two weren’t fucking in the training room less than 10 minutes ago.

“Do you want to stay?” He hesitates, unsure if this is truly what you want. If this line is ready to be crossed.

“You owe me for ruining my clothes. Just one nap.” He relents, it’s easy when you’re looking at him like that.

“Okay bunny. Just one nap.” He shuts the door behind him, crawling into bed with you.

He feels a rumble in his chest as he sinks into your bed. You’re soft and it feels like he’s meant to be here. You fall asleep quick, body aching and practically screaming for you to sleep. Logan stays awake for a while, just okay with being here. Just one nap he tells himself. 

He’s lying. It’s never going to be just one nap.

[rafecameronssl4t]

Reminder || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary: It was just harmless banter between you and another socialite, but rafe reminds again you what the diamond ring meant on your finger.

Warnings: angst, jealous/possesive rafe hehehehe

Word count: 2,160

A/n: guys guys guys it's getting hot in here.

MASTERLIST (forced marriage au masterlist)

divider by @h-aewo

The gala is in full swing, the grand ballroom echoing with the hum of conversation and the soft clinking of champagne glasses. You stand next to Rafe, dressed to perfection in an elegant gown that draws more than a few eyes in your direction. Rafe's hand rests lightly on your waist, his touch possessive but distant—as it usually is during events like this—as you mingle with other high-society figures.

The night feels long, your polished smile tiring as you listen to half-hearted pleasantries from the guests surrounding you. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Alexander Hawthorne making his way over, his smile wide and confident, his eyes locked on you. He’s known for his silver tongue and effortless charm, especially with married women. Tonight, his gaze feels particularly intent.

"Well, well, if it isn't the most beautiful woman in the room," Alexander says smoothly, his eyes lingering on you just a little too long. "You always manage to outshine everyone, don’t you?" You offer a playful smile, aware of Rafe's tightening grip on your waist. "Oh, you flatter me, Alexander," you reply lightly, not fully dismissing the compliment. "But I’m sure there are plenty of others here more deserving of your attention." Alexander chuckles, clearly pleased that you're playing along.

"I highly doubt that. No one else in this room could possibly compare." His eyes flicker briefly to Rafe, but he seems unfazed by his presence. "I was actually hoping to steal you away for a dance, if I may be so bold." You glance at Rafe from the corner of your eye. His jaw is clenched, his posture rigid, but he says nothing. The tension between you and him has been building over the past few weeks, and part of you enjoys testing his limits.

"A dance?" you echo, your tone teasing. "That sounds tempting." Rafe’s hand tightens even more on your waist, his irritation palpable. "I don’t think that’s a good idea," Rafe’s voice cuts through the playful banter, his tone sharp and controlled, though you can feel the storm brewing beneath the surface. His grip on your waist has gone from possessive to borderline painful, but you don’t flinch.

Instead, you tilt your head and glance up at him, your expression sweet yet defiant. "Oh? Why not, darling?" you ask, your voice dripping with mock innocence. "It’s just a harmless dance." Alexander, sensing the tension but relishing the drama, grins wider. "Come on, Rafe, it’s just a dance. Surely you trust your wife enough to let her have a bit of fun tonight?"

You notice Rafe’s jaw clench even tighter. He glares at Alexander, but the challenge is unspoken, simmering beneath the surface. You can feel Rafe’s jealousy in the way his body stiffens beside you, and for some reason, the idea of provoking him further feels oddly satisfying. "I don’t mind," you continue, turning your gaze back to Alexander.

"After all, it’s not every day a charming man asks me to dance." Rafe’s fingers dig into your side, and you suppress a wince, though your heart flutters at the possessiveness. "You’re not going anywhere," Rafe says, his voice dangerously low. His eyes lock on Alexander, who merely raises his brow in amusement.

"Rafe," you start, keeping your tone light though there’s an edge to it, "you’re being dramatic. It’s just one dance." But you know you’ve pushed him too far. The moment the words leave your lips, you feel Rafe's grip on your waist disappear, replaced by an icy tension that makes your breath catch. In one swift motion, Rafe steps forward, his broad shoulders blocking Alexander from your view entirely.

His stance is commanding, exuding an unmistakable fury, though his face remains composed—a deadly calm that’s somehow more terrifying than if he had exploded. "Back off, Hawthorne," Rafe snaps, his voice a cold, simmering threat. Each word is sharp, delivered with a quiet intensity that sends a chill through the air. "You don’t want to test me right now." If it wasn't Rafe height that loomed over him that intimidated him, it was the icy look in Rafe's eyes that did.

Alexander’s usual bravado falters, and though he holds up his hands in a gesture of nonchalance, the gleam in his eyes fades. If it wasn’t Rafe’s towering height that made him take a step back, it was the icy, penetrating look in Rafe’s eyes. Alexander hesitates, his playful smirk faltering, eyes flickering between you and Rafe.

"Alright, alright. Didn’t mean to step on any toes." He glances at you with a wink before adding, "But you can’t blame a man for trying, right?" Rafe’s gaze doesn’t waver. His silence hangs heavy in the space between them, tension crackling like electricity. It’s clear that Alexander, for all his charm and wit, knows better than to push Rafe any further.

As soon as Alexander retreats, Rafe's shoulders remain stiff, his body radiating with tension. The darkness in his eyes lingers, the anger now fully redirected toward you. Without a word, his hand closes around your wrist, not painfully, but firmly enough to make it clear that this conversation isn’t over. He pulls you with him, weaving through the crowd and out of the grand ballroom, into the quieter, more secluded hallways of the estate.

The moment you’re alone, Rafe spins around to face you, his body towering over yours as he leans down, his breath warm and rapid against your ear. The fury in his gaze makes your stomach twist with both dread and excitement. "What the hell was that?" Rafe growls, his voice barely above a whisper but thick with anger. His grip on your wrist tightens just slightly as he looks down at you, eyes wild with accusation.

"Flirting with him right in front of me?" You lift your chin, meeting his gaze with a calmness you don’t quite feel. "It was just harmless fun, Rafe," you reply, though your voice lacks its usual conviction, "you’re the one who overreacted." "Harmless?" Rafe repeats, his voice growing even lower, his face so close now you can feel the heat of his hander.

"He was crossing the line, and frankly, so were you" Rafe steps closer, his body looming over you, his hand gripping your waist. "You think I didn’t see the way he was looking at you? Or how you were playing along?" You swallow, your heart beating faster at the intensity in his eyes. "Maybe I was," you admit, your voice steady but challenging. "Maybe I wanted to see how far I could push you. Like I said, it was harmless."

Rafe's grip on your waist tightens even further, his fingers pressing firmly into your side, the pressure bordering on painful. You let out a small groan, a sound that escapes involuntarily from the mix of discomfort and the charged intensity of the moment. The pain is sharp, a physical reminder of his anger and possessiveness, and you can’t help but shiver at the heat of his touch.

"I don't care if it was harmless," Rafe growls, his voice low and dangerous. "You're not playing those fucking games with me." Each word is punctuated with a barely restrained fury, his breath hot against your skin. You want to speak, to push back, but the fire in Rafe's eyes freezes you in place. The fierce protectiveness radiating from him mixes with his jealousy, overwhelming and intoxicating.

His hand moves from your waist to your hand, fingers brushing over the large diamond on your wedding ring. "Did you forget what this ring meant?" Rafe's voice is low, almost a growl, as he taps the diamond, each tap a reminder of the vow that binds you both. The possessiveness in his touch sends a shudder through you, your breath catching as his lips graze your ear once more.

You can feel the tension thick in the air between you, the hallway around you fading into insignificance as his words cut deep. "You’re mine," he whispers, his tone raw, dangerous, and resolute. "And I don’t share." Your heart pounds in your chest, a mix of thrill and fear coursing through you at the intensity of his words. You glance down at the ring he’s tapping, a tangible symbol of everything that’s between you—love, control, obligation, desire. It’s suffocating, yet addictive.

You shiver as Rafe’s words linger in the air, thick with possessiveness. His grip on your wrist tightens, but it’s the way he looks at you that keeps you frozen in place—intense, unrelenting, a silent challenge burning in his eyes. You try to keep your composure, to push back against the overwhelming force of his jealousy. "Rafe," you say softly, your voice barely steady. "It was just a dance. It wouldn’t have meant anything."

"That’s not the fucking point," he snaps, his tone sharper now. He steps closer, his body pressing against yours, almost forcing you to look up at him. "You knew exactly what you were doing. I saw the way you looked at him—like you wanted me to react." You swallow hard, but you refuse to break eye contact. "Maybe I did," you admit, your voice low but challenging. "Maybe I wanted to see if you even care."

The words hang between you, and for a moment, Rafe’s expression shifts—his anger momentarily flickering into something else, something raw and vulnerable. But just as quickly, his walls slam back up, his face hardening again. He releases your wrist, but not before pulling you closer, his lips inches from yours, the tension crackling between you.

"Care?" he growls. "You think I don’t care when I’m right here, watching you entertain someone else? You’re mine, and I won’t let anyone forget it." You feel the possessiveness in his words like a pulse between you, and despite the storm raging inside him, there’s something about it that draws you in. His jealousy, his frustration—it’s all because of you, because deep down, beneath the cold exterior, he does care. You can feel it, even if he won’t admit it out loud.

Your voice softens, just enough to break through the tension. "I wasn’t trying to make you angry, Rafe." "You know that’s a lie," he murmurs, his eyes locked onto yours. His voice drops lower, and you can feel the intensity in his words. "But you succeeded. And I don’t like being tested." You glance down for a moment, trying to gather yourself, but when you look back up at him, your heart beats faster.

"Maybe I wanted to see if you still care. Lately… it feels like you’ve been distant." His jaw clenches at your confession, his eyes narrowing slightly. For a brief second, something softer flickers across his features—a trace of regret. But Rafe doesn’t back down, his hand still resting on your lower back, firm and possessive. "I’ve been busy," he mutters, but you know it’s not the full truth. You’re about to push him on it when he pulls you closer, his breath warm against your cheek.

"But that doesn’t mean I don’t care. You should know that by now." You let the silence stretch between you, your body pressed against his as you absorb his words. His anger, his frustration, all boil down to the same thing—he doesn’t want to lose you, not to someone like Alexander or anyone else. "You don’t have to act so cold all the time, you know," you whisper, your voice soft but daring.

Rafe’s lips curl slightly into a smirk, though his eyes remain serious. "You think I’m cold?" "Most of the time." You challenge him, your tone laced with honesty. His hand moves from your back to cup your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek. "Then I’ll remind you," he says, his voice low and dangerous, "how I feel about you."

Before you can respond, Rafe leans in and captures your lips with his, the kiss fierce and possessive, like he’s trying to prove something—to himself, to you. His hand tightens around you, pulling you closer until there’s no space between you, every inch of his body pressing against yours. The kiss is raw, full of unspoken frustration, but also something deeper—something neither of you are ready to name.

When he finally pulls back, his breathing heavy, he keeps his forehead pressed against yours. "Don’t ever doubt that you’re mine," he whispers, his voice ragged but full of conviction. Your breath comes in shallow, your heart racing from the intensity of it all. "And you’re mine," you murmur back, your fingers curling into his jacket, holding him close.

Rafe pulls you back into him, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "Let’s get out of here. I’m done with this place." Without waiting for your response, he takes your hand and leads you out of the manor, his grip possessive, his pace quick. You follow silently, your heart racing, knowing that tonight’s encounter has stirred something deeper between you both—something raw and dangerous that neither of you can ignore any longer.

[serpentandlily]

Birds of a Feather - Azriel x Reader

Birds of a Feather - Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel had been your closest friend, made from the very same things as you—birds of a feather, as they say. But you were not the girl he chose to fall in love with. So all you could do was love your mate in the shadows until the day you died.  

Warnings: angst angst angst

A/n: Inspired by Birds of a Feather by Billie Eilish, but this is a more sad interpretation of the song. Hope you enjoy! (Epilogue HERE)

• ───────────────── •

I want you to stay

'Til I'm in the grave

'Til I rot away, dead and buried

'Til I'm in the casket you carry

• ───────────────── •

A flick of golden brown hair caught your eye as Elain tossed her head back with her lilting laughter. So soft. So beautiful. So charming. You could hardly blame Azriel for being so enraptured by her. To him, she was probably the answer to all his questions, all his insecurities and doubt. To have someone like Elain look at him like that…Well, it seemed like it had healed something in him.

Unfortunately for you, it had done the opposite. It had completely destroyed you. Torn your heart into pieces. Opened new wounds and old wounds. It had shined a light on every single insecurity you felt. Because you had been praying for the day that Azriel would look at you the way he looked at her. But that day had never come and it never would.

You hadn’t been good enough for him. Hadn’t been beautiful enough to catch his attention like Mor and Elain had. Hadn’t been sweet enough to serve as a beacon of light for him. Hadn’t been soft enough to bring him comfort. 

You slipped out of the back door. No one even noticed your disappearance, all too happy in this new little family they had created with all three of the Archeron sisters. 

Tears lined your eyes as you hugged yourself, slowly walking along the Sidra towards your apartment. You had been naive to think you’d ever have a love like Feyre and Rhys or Nesta and Cassian. Azriel had been right that night you’d overheard him in the High Lord’s office.

The Cauldron had gotten it wrong. It had gotten it all so wrong.

Azriel was your mate. He was supposed to love and cherish you. Not her. But he had never looked your way once—not like that. You’d been best friends since the dawn of time, since you had entered each other’s lives. But that was all the companionship he could give you.

On nights like this, you almost wished you had told him about the mating bond when it had snapped for you. But you had hoped and prayed that he would come to love you for you and not for the mating bond. So you never spoke a word of it to anyone and maybe that had been your mistake.  

But you didn’t want a love that only existed because of the mating bond. You wanted a love that felt real and deep—with the mating bond only serving as the cherry on top. You didn’t regret not telling him. But you did regret sticking around to watch him fall in love with another girl. 

It didn’t help that Elain was the opposite of you. She was all sunshine and flowers, soft warm bread and honey. You were a creature of the night. You were the moon and its shadows, cryptic and grim. It was why you thought you and Azriel got along so well. You were made of all the same things. But he had always hated that about himself so really, it shouldn’t have been so surprising that he would look for someone who embodied the opposite. 

It hurt though, it hurt so much. 

You were his equal. You lived in the shadows as much as he did. Your soul was made from the same essence as his. You were birds of a feather. You were companions. He was the only one who understood you completely and you were the only one who saw him and loved him as he was—darkness and all. 

You were supposed to stick together through it all.

But…he hadn’t chosen you. 

You finally made it back to your apartment and hung up your coat before collapsing on your bed and letting the sobs ricochet through the utter silence of your home. 

Alone once again. 

As you always would be.

• ───────────────── •

Birds of a feather, we should stick together, I know

I said I'd never think I wasn't better alone

Can't change the weather, might not be forever

But if it's forever, it's even better

• ───────────────── •

All you had wanted to do today was get lost in your book and forget about your own life for a few hours. That was what you had planned, why you were even in the private library at the River House. But of course, the Mother decided to spite you once again.

Azriel sat on the armchair across from you, fiddling with Truth-teller as he ranted about Rhysand for the millionth time. He was still upset about your High Lord telling him to stay away from Elain, even though he had completely ignored those orders anyways. As far as you knew, Rhys hadn’t brought it up again. 

Your jaw was clenched as he brought up Lucien, laminating on how much Elain didn’t want him or the mating bond between them. You blinked away the tears that threatened to come. It almost felt like he was talking about the mating bond between the two of you—the one he still had no idea existed. 

Your heart was pounding in your chest, your stomach tossing and turning. You were so in love with the male sitting before you, so in love with your best friend. And here you were, listening to him talk about another girl the way you wished he’d talk about you. 

You cleared your throat when silence finally overtook the library, your eyes darting to the fireplace that was lacking any light—cold and dusty—the same way you felt inside. 

“Don’t you think…” you started, not looking at Azriel, not sure you wanted to say the words lingering in your throat. 

“Do I think what?” Azriel raised an eyebrow at you. 

You looked away again. 

“I don’t know,” you hesitated before continuing, “Don’t you think that Rhys might actually have a point?” 

You were still focused on the fireplace as you awaited his response with a bated breath. It was the first time you’d addressed his interest in Elain without being positive. But you just had to poke at it once—just once to make sure you were right in keeping the mating bond from him. 

“Oh Gods,” Azriel groaned. “Not you, too.”

“I’m just asking,” you said in your defense. “What if…what if in ten years Elain decides she does actually want to give Lucien a shot? The mating bond—”

“Is godsdamn stupid, is what it is,” Azriel scoffed. “She doesn’t want Lucien, Y/n. She wants me. We want each other. Is that such a bad thing?”

“No, I’m not saying that,” you grimaced, “But what if you find your mate? Would you…would you stay with Elain?” 

“Of course I would,” Azriel answered without missing a beat, digging that dagger into your heart a little more. “I don’t have a mate and even if I did, I would only ever feel sorry for her. For being cursed and shackled to me. At least Elain is choosing me. She is choosing me, Y/n. Over her own mate. If that isn’t love, then what is?” 

“I don’t know, Az.” You swallowed harshly, your throat closing up the further this conversation went on. You wanted to scream and sew your mouth shut at the same time. “Is that what this is? Are you truly in love with her?” 

This was it. The question you had been avoiding for months. And his answer would solidify everything. It would either put the nail in the coffin between the two of you or it would lighten the weight on your shoulders for just a minute—give you a modicum of hope to hang onto. 

“I am,” Azriel snapped, surprising you with his sudden ire. He rose from his seat, his eyes narrowing at you. “What is wrong with you? I thought you cared about me. I thought you were my friend, Y/n, and you’re acting just like Rhysand.” 

You shot up from your seat, eyes wide. “No, Az, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way, I just—”

“No, I get it,” Azriel scoffed, cutting you off. His eyes were ice cold. He had never looked at you like that before. It made your heart pause. “You just want me to continue being miserable. Because that’s always been why the two of us got along so well. Both lonely and so unhappy and now that I’m finally not, you want to drag me back down. Maybe one day someone will love you the way me and Elain love each other. But just because no one does right now, does not mean I have to give up my happiness to keep being miserable with you.” 

Tears welled up in your eyes, your lower lip wobbling. All you wanted was Azriel to be happy. It was another reason why you hadn’t said anything about the mating bond. Because he was happy with Elain and you didn’t want to throw a wrench into that. You hadn’t meant anything by asking him those questions—only wanted a bit of closure for yourself. 

Well, you had gotten closure, all right. Azriel would never choose you. He was right. You were miserable and lonely and heartbroken. Why would he choose you? But you hadn’t expected him to be so harsh. A simple yes would’ve done the same. Tears slipped down your cheeks and the anger from Azriel’s eyes was washed away.

But you didn’t stick around to hear his half-assed apology. You couldn’t. Not when your heart was being ripped apart in your chest, not as bile was rising in your hoarse throat. You dropped your book down on the coffee table before fleeing from the room, ignoring his calls of your name as you left.

• ───────────────── •

But you're so full of shit, 

Tell me it's a bit, 

Say you don't see it, your mind's polluted

Say you wanna quit, don't be stupid

• ───────────────── •

Months went by, all meshing together. You had avoided Azriel since that day in the library. It hurt but being around him hurt even more. It was all you could do to protect your already broken heart. He didn’t reach out to you either, instead all of his attention went to Elain. 

Elain who had finally told Lucien she would never accept their bond. 

And so Azriel and her had finally proclaimed their love to the whole family. A family you felt yourself slipping away from bit by bit. No one even seemed to notice. After all, it had always been you and Azriel hiding away in the shadows—content to observe and love from the corners of the room. 

But now it was just you in that corner, all alone. 

You stopped going to family dinners, stopped hanging around the River House, stopped going to training with the Valkyries. You began to disappear from their lives day by day. You couldn’t bring yourself to stay. Not when your mate was in love with someone else—not as they all started new chapters in their lives and left you behind. 

You had overstayed your welcome. No longer Azriel’s closest friend and confidant. No longer Cassian’s sparring buddy. No longer an extra ear for Rhys to run court decisions by. No longer Mor’s dancing partner or Amren’s pupil to bully. 

You became a shadow of yourself. Sleepless nights led to a lack of energy and focus. Constant tears led to being voiceless. You couldn’t even resort to alcohol because it made the steely barrier you had put up to block out the mating bond come tumbling down, flooding you with all of Azriel’s feelings. Happiness, joy, lust, desire, satiation. 

It was just a reminder that you weren’t the one giving him those things. 

But you couldn’t disappear the way you wanted to. Not when a new war started with Koschei. Despite months of not being around, Rhysand still sent you a notice to come to a meeting to discuss strategy and to inform everyone of new developments. 

You wanted to ignore the summons but the thought of Azriel going into battle again without you around to watch his back nearly sent you spiraling. So you made your way to the River House, eyes on the floor the whole time as you stepped inside and hung up your coat. 

You were about to go up the stairs to get to Rhys’s office when a hand on your shoulder stopped you. You spun around and your breath caught in your throat as you came face to face with Azriel. You took a shaky step away from him, your hand coming up to grip at your chest. The mating bond you had been trying to ignore shoved its way through your defenses—bombarding you with Azriel’s emotions once again. 

His hazel eyes were filled with a bit of guilt and remorse. “Y/n, I was wondering if you were going to show up today. I…I’ve been wanting to talk to you but you haven’t been around much.”

Your mouth opened and closed, no words coming out. You didn’t trust yourself to speak. Azriel hesitated for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck before speaking, “I never got to apologize for the things I said to you. It's not an excuse, but Rhys had just laid into me again about Elain before I found you in the library and I took my anger out on you when you were just trying to be a good friend and I am truly sorry for what I said to you. I didn’t mean any of it.” 

“It’s okay,” you mumbled, looking away from him. His words had felt true that day. Besides, what he said to you might’ve been wrong but that didn’t take away from the fact that he was in love with someone else. Regardless of his apology, there was no way you could go back to being his friend. It hurt too much. 

Azriel seemed to be waiting for you to say anything else and his shoulders deflated a bit when he realized you weren’t going to. He gave you a weak smile before summoning something from his shadows. An envelope. He held it out for you to grab. You took it from him with a questioning look. 

“It’s an invitation,” Azriel explained. “Me and Elain are getting married. I wanted to deliver this to you in person. It would mean a lot to have you there, Y/n.” 

You stared at the envelope in your hand. 

Stared and stared and stared. 

Even throughout the whole meeting with the Inner Circle, all you could do was stare at that godsdamn envelope. Because inside of it was the last piece of your broken heart, smashed and weeping. Azriel was getting married…and not to you. To her. 

So when Rhys announced his plans of attack for Koschei and how he needed someone to act as bait for the Death God, you were the first to volunteer because you truly had nothing left to lose. 

• ───────────────── •

And I don't know what I'm crying for

I don't think I could love you more

Might not be long, but baby, I

Don't wanna say goodbye

• ───────────────── •

“Are you sure you don’t want to sit up front with the rest of us?” Feyre asked.

You looked up at her from your seat in the very back of the temple, shaking your head. You gave her a blank look. “No, it’s all right. I’m fine back here. You know I don’t like that attention of sitting near the High Lord and Lady.” 

Feyre gave you an understanding nod. “Okay, but you will sit with us at the reception. I’m not taking no for an answer.” 

You nodded to appease her, knowing you had no intentions of staying past the ceremony. You were only here for one reason—because Azriel had asked you to be here and you could never say no to him. So here you sat, your chest empty and your eyes sore from the tears you spilled last night. 

This wedding felt more like a funeral to you and in some ways, it was. You were saying goodbye to a future you could’ve had with your mate, giving up the final piece of yourself for his sake, and getting to watch him be happy and free, such a bittersweet feeling. All you had ever wished was that he could be happy with you but that was just a dream—that’s all it would ever be. 

Elain looked so beautiful in her wedding gown, as she always did. 

Azriel’s eyes lit up the moment she came through the doorway, striding down the aisle to him. He held out his hand for her, helping her up the steps to stand before him. They didn’t look away from each other for a single moment during the ceremony. He was so in love with her. So in love with her and not you…never you. 

The whole room was bursting with joy but not you. You were happy for him, of course. But you couldn’t help but feel that ache in your chest and everything that came with it. The hurt, the jealousy, the grief. 

Had he even really wanted you here or had it been a pity invite? It didn’t matter because he took no notice of anyone but Elain. So when the ceremony ended and everyone began to make their way to the reception, you slinked into the shadows and disappeared once again. 

• ───────────────── •

I'll love you 'til the day that I die

'Til the day that I die

'Til the light leaves my eyes

'Til the day that I die

• ───────────────── •

The battle was over. Koschei had been defeated. You had gone through with serving as the bait for this plan to work. It had cost so much to finally take him down. So many lives, so much power. And you. It had cost you everything. 

You were dying. Slowly.

But you knew this was the end for you.

Even if you could be saved, you didn’t want to be.

You wanted to let death embrace you in his cold arms.

You wanted to leave behind this life finally.

Everyone was still cheering and hugging with relief when you stumbled back into the war camp. You pressed a hand against the deep wound in your stomach, blood bubbling through the cracks in your fingers as you passed by everyone—no one taking notice of you or your severely injured state.

Not until you made it to the main tent where the rest of the Inner Circle had begun to celebrate the victory. 

It was Feyre who noticed you first, her gasp alerting the rest of them to your presence. But you were only looking at Azriel as you stumbled into the tent, barely making it past the threshold before you crumbled to the ground. You choked on the blood filling up your mouth, some of it trickling out of your lips. 

Azriel shouted your name, pushing Cassian out of his way to get to you. He knelt before you, eyes wide with panic as he grasped your shoulders. In the background, you could faintly hear Rhysand shouting for a healer but you knew it was too late for that. 

You weakly smiled up at Azriel. This is what you wanted. To just see him one last time. To let his face be the last thing you see before death came to take you. You reached a hand out, letting your fingertips brush against his jaw. 

It took you being gravely injured for the mating bond to finally snap in place for him. You knew the minute he realized. The mating bond hummed in your chest but its song was so quiet now…so, so quiet. 

It was slowly fraying as your life dimmed. 

“Mate,” Azriel choked out in a whisper, his hand resting on your cheek. His eyes were still full of panic. “You’re…You’re my mate.” 

You nodded, coughing again and more blood slipped out of your lips and down your chin. Azriel shouted frantically for a healer before focusing on you again, his eyes searching yours. “You knew?” 

You nodded again, your body sagging in his hold. He let out a panicked cry and pulled you into his lap. “How long? How long have you known?” 

“A while,” you managed to croak, your fingers raising to caress his jaw again. 

Azriel stared at you in horror as he shouted again for a healer. You could hear the pounding of feet and other panicked whispers but you tuned it all out. You just wanted to go peacefully. No screaming, no cries. Just you and Azriel for the last second of your life. 

“Why?” he cried out, wiping one of your tears away. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“You…were…happy,” you struggled to get out, your eyes closing with the effort. Azriel shook your body, tears filling up in his eyes.

“No, stay awake, Y/n, you have to stay awake,” Azriel pleaded with you. “The healer is almost here, okay. Just stay awake a little longer.” 

“I-It’s…okay,” you mumbled. “Want…want to go.” 

You coughed again, blood splatting your face. Azriel released a cry that nearly caused the ground to shake. “No, you can’t. You can’t go. You’re my mate, Y/n. You can’t do this to me!” 

“I’ll find…you…again,” you slurred out. “Maybe…maybe I’ll be…good enough….then.” 

You blinked once, your vision blurry but you could see Azriel’s beautiful face. Gods, he was so beautiful. He was screaming something but your hearing went along with your vision, slowly worsening until finally, your heart stopped beating in your chest. 

And with that, the pain was finally gone. 

• ───────────────── •

I knew you in another life

You had that same look in your eyes

I love you, don't act so surprised

• ───────────────── •

Epilogue

[milksnake-tea]

❀ ˎˊ- prompt: wise likes you, and just about everyone on sixth street knows. ❀ ˎˊ- wise x gn!reader ❀ ˎˊ- wc: 1.3k ❀ ˎˊ- warnings: slightly ooc wise idk im still lvl 26 okay ❀ ˎˊ- a/n: thanks you stellaronhvnters for plaguing my mind w wise. anywho this my mini break from the series LMAO wise. i love you king.

Wise can hardly focus, and for once, it isn’t because of you.

Not that he minds being distracted by you - quite the opposite. He could spend hours just watching you talk and getting lost in your eyes, occasionally nodding or agreeing with whatever you were talking about the day. He liked hearing your voice; it was soothing like a cool river, especially after a grueling day.

But this time, it’s him who’s being stared at, and to his disappointment, the one burning holes into him isn’t you (although he severely doubts he could handle it if it were to be you).

No, instead, General Chop stares at him from the corner of his eye as he prepares other customers’ orders, a hint of knowing in his usual smile. Wise can see the excitement in the chef’s eyes, and it doesn’t take a genius to know why.

“Wise?”

He seizes up, bumping his chopsticks. He’s quick to fix himself as you shoot him a nervous, but questioning smile.

“Sorry, you were saying?” he says smoothly (at least he hopes it’s smooth, he still doesn’t know how to talk to pretty people), eager to move past his minor mishap.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” you laugh. “I was just saying that you have a little something on your face.”

Wise feels his cheeks warm. “Oh, really? Thanks for telling me.”

He moves to grab some napkins, but you beat him to it. Wise swears something in him malfunctions when he turns and suddenly you’re all too close to him, your hand reached out to clean up his face.

“Wha- Wait, what’re you-” he sputters, nearly falling off his stool as he lurches back.

“Hey, stand still,” you scold, your slight annoyance only serving to speed up his heart rate because who in the world said it was okay for you to be this cute.

At this point, he wouldn’t be surprised if steam was coming from his head, with how fuzzy his mind feels. He can’t think, can’t breathe, can’t do anything but just sit there, dazed as you dab obliviously at the corner of his lip.

As you pull away, he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, mentally thanking whatever deities reigned above that he hadn’t fainted on the spot. That would’ve been embarrassing; Belle would never let him live it down.

His face feels cooler - hopefully it isn’t so red anymore. By the time he’s able to think coherently again, you’ve started chatting again. Wise nods along (he has no idea what you’re talking about), and goes to slurp up some of his noodles when he sees General Chop again.

The chef, obviously holding back a cackle, grins encouragingly at him and flashes him a thumbs up in support. Wise internally groans. Would it be a bad idea if he drowned himself in his noodles right now?

And this isn’t the first time either - Wise is pretty sure the entirety of Sixth Street is aware of his… ugh, crush on you (saying it out loud both hurts him and makes him feel warm inside. Which is a terrible feeling. He wants to throw up).

Just last week, he’d seen you at the Coff Café, and Tin Man, being both a gracious cafe owner and a huge romantic, had decided that that day was a good day to have a 50% off deal specifically for pairs if they bought two or more items.

Wise hadn’t questioned it at first, since it was normal for shops to occasionally hold discounts like these to attract more customers. Even he was guilty of it, being a business co-owner himself.

But then you had to call him out in the line, excitedly waving him over as you were at the cashier ordering. Tin Man was behind you, a smile in his eyes that Wise wasn’t sure he liked, but he begrudgingly made his way over.

He still remembers the way your eyes sparkled as you explained the discount to him. They reminded him of the stars he’d see at twilight, when he couldn’t sleep and would climb to the roof just to watch New Eridu’s nightlife.

Naturally, he had accepted your offer of buying him a free drink (no one refuses free food), but he quickly learned to regret it when he saw the mischievous gleam in Tin Man’s artificial eyes.

He still gets flustered thinking of it now - the heart-shaped whipped cream and the whisper of “good luck” haunts him, especially when he thinks about how confused you were at the impromptu decoration.

The amount of times he’s caught his neighbors playing matchmaker, he can’t count on both hands - and that’s not including what Belle has tried. It’d be funny if it wasn’t also incredibly humiliating.

“Master, if you were planning on drifting off, perhaps you should’ve stayed home to take a nap.”

Wise sighs. “Be quiet, Fairy. I’m in public.”

“What?” you blink. Wise blinks back before realizing he’d been a little too loud.

“Sorry, I was talking to myself,” he chuckles awkwardly, hands fiddling with each other - it’s a nervous habit of his. You smile understandingly.

“No, it’s okay,” you say, pushing your bowl towards General Chop to signify you were done with it. “You’ve been out of it today, Wise. Something on your mind?”

You, Wise wants to say, but he doesn’t feel like embarrassing himself further. “I guess I’m just tired. Long day today.”

“I can tell,” you laugh, the sound music to his ears. You hop off the stool after sliding your share of the payment to General Chop. “Come on, I’ll walk you home. You look like you’re about to fall asleep.”

Wise’s heart does a little tap dance at your offer, but he manages to keep his cool. He hastily pays General Chop before eagerly joining you in your short walk to Random Play.

“Bro!” Belle greets him enthusiastically as he opens the door. Her eyes light up when she sees you, and she raises her eyebrows suggestively at her brother. Wise shoots her a glare when you aren’t looking. “[Name], too? How was your da- mmghhifjk-”

Wise smiles innocently as he slaps a hand over Belle’s mouth. You can’t help but laugh at the two, and Wise admires the crinkle the corners of your eyes.

“Ignore her,” he says nonchalantly, wrinkling his nose as Belle licks his hand like the little rat she is. “Do you want to come in, or…?”

“No, I shouldn’t.” You wave your hands bashfully. “It’s getting late, so I should be getting back home.”

Wise nods in understanding. Belle pries herself free and he wipes his spit-covered hand on her sleeve, ignoring her sputters and protests (she chose this path. She will reap its consequences).

“Well, I guess this is goodbye.”

You nod, shifting your feet. “I guess it is.”

Wise’s brows furrow at your behavior - what’s on your mind. But thankfully, he doesn’t have to wait long before his inquiry is answered.

You take a step forward, and Wise feels your arms loop around him in a tight hug. Suddenly, his senses are elevated, and it’s almost as if everything is enhanced tenfold. He can feel your heartbeat against his chest, the soft sound of your breath, your hair tickling his face and the heat that radiates off of your body against him.

“I really enjoyed today,” you say, stepping back with a smile that could rival an angel’s. “Thanks for hanging out with me.”

Wise tries to formulate a response, but all that comes out is a squeak like a dying balloon. God, if his face was red before, it must be flaming now. You giggle at his response, before you wave both him and Belle goodbye and leave for your home.

It takes a good five minutes before he can speak again.

“Hey sis?”

Belle sounds as shocked as him. “Yeah?”

“I think I’m going to faint.”

He hears his sister sigh.

“Wise, you’re helpless, you know that?” she shakes her head exasperatingly. “And just when you finally made progress too.”

reblogs w comments are appreciated !!