#whisper and cry out and keen and wail

[eyesockethair]

Someone please fucking understand that this song makes me feel an ungodly amount of emotions I both do and do not understand

[pucksandpower]

Yours

Carlos Sainz x Reader

Summary: your boyfriend decides to remind you that you’re his and his alone … you’re certainly not about to complain

Warnings: 18+ content and possessiveness

“Excuse me, I need to borrow Y/N for a moment,” Carlos says abruptly, grabbing your arm and pulling you away from the mechanic you were speaking with.

You glance back apologetically as Carlos leads you swiftly down the hall towards his driver’s room. As soon as the door shuts behind you, his lips are on yours, kissing you hungrily as he backs you against the wall.

“Mine,” he growls against your mouth, nipping at your bottom lip.

You sigh into the kiss, your hands coming up to tangle in his soft waves. You love when he gets like this — possessive and needy. It makes you feel desired.

Cherished.

Loved.

“Yours,” you agree breathlessly when he finally releases your lips to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck.

His teeth graze your pulse point and you moan, tilting your head to give him better access. Your hands slip beneath his team shirt, fingers splaying across the smooth skin of his back.

“I saw the way he was looking at you,” Carlos murmurs against your throat. “No one gets to look at you like that except me.”

You smile, rubbing your hands up and down his back soothingly. “Baby, he was just talking about the new upgrades. You know you’re the only one for me.”

Carlos pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, his own dark and stormy. “Are you sure about that, cariño? Maybe I need to remind you who you belong to.”

Your breath hitches at the promise in his words, heat pooling low in your belly. You bite your lip and nod.

“Please,” you whisper.

A smirk tugs at his lips. Then his hands are on your waist, spinning you around and pressing you front-first against the wall. He nudges your legs apart with his knee, molding himself along your back. You can feel how hard he already is through his shorts.

“I’m going to ruin you for anyone else,” he rasps in your ear.

You whimper, need slick between your thighs. He grinds against you languidly, letting you feel every inch of him. His hands slip under your shirt, palming your breasts over your bra.

“These are mine,” he squeezes pointedly. “This-” his hand slides lower, dipping beneath the waistband of your jeans, “-is mine. All of you, mi amor, belongs to me.”

“Yes, yes Carlos, I’m yours,” you gasp as his fingers find your clit, rubbing tight circles that have you seeing stars.

He works you up until you’re teetering on the edge, keening and desperate, before withdrawing his hand and stepping back. You whine at the loss of contact but he just chuckles, low and dangerous.

In one smooth move he flips you around to face him again, then sinks to his knees before you. Deft fingers make quick work of the button and zipper of your jeans, yanking them and your underwear down just enough to expose you. He looks up at you from beneath those unfairly long lashes, eyes dark with desire.

“I want you dripping for me, cariño.”

Then his mouth descends on you with single-minded purpose, tongue lapping at your slit before focusing on your clit. Your head falls back against the wall with a groan, hands coming down to tangle in his hair, guiding him just so.

He works you expertly, licking and sucking until you’re crying out his name, right on the edge again. Just when you think you can’t take anymore, he slides two long fingers into your clenching heat, crooking them just right. You shatter with a wail, vision going white as your orgasm crashes over you.

Carlos works you through it, only stopping when you go limp and oversensitive. He stands and you cling to him on shaky legs, panting against his neck.

“That’s one,” he murmurs, nipping at your earlobe. “I’m not nearly done with you yet.”

Arousal sparks hot and urgent in your belly again at his words. He kisses you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. When he finally releases your mouth, you tangle your fingers in the front of his shirt.

“Too many clothes,” you complain breathlessly.

He grins. “Allow me.”

In one smooth move he grabs the hem of his shirt and pulls it off over his head, exposing miles of smooth, toned tanned skin. You bite your lip, drinking in the sight hungrily as your hands come up to trace over the defined muscles of his chest and abs.

He lets you explore for a moment before catching your wrists and pinning them to the wall above your head. Holding them there with one hand, he uses the other to finally tug your shirt up and off, leaving you in just your bra above the waist.

You squirm against him, desire coiling hot and urgent inside you again already as he presses his hips against yours.

“Can you feel what you do to me, mi amor?” He asks roughly. “No one else makes me ache like this. Only you.”

“Carlos,” you whimper, straining against his grip. “Please, I need you.”

He smiles, slow and wicked, and reaches around to unclasp your bra with deft fingers. As soon as your breasts are freed he dips his head, taking one sensitive nipple into his hot mouth. You cry out as he lavishes attention on it with his tongue, then scrapes it lightly with his teeth. He gives the other equal treatment until you’re writhing against him, panting and pleading wordlessly.

Finally he takes mercy, releasing your wrists so he can lift you effortlessly. Your legs wrap around his waist automatically as he carries you across the room towards the small bed tucked into the corner.

He lays you down gently atop the plain white sheets, the cot barely big enough for the two of you. Not that you mind being pressed so close together. You reach for him eagerly but he catches your hands again and presses them into the pillow above your head.

“Keep them there,” he orders. “No touching until I say so.”

You pout but do as he says, fisting your hands in the pillow as you watch him shed the rest of his clothes with eager eyes. He’s tanned and toned all over, muscles shifting enticingly beneath his skin as he moves. Your mouth waters at the sight of him, hard and ready for you.

He climbs over you, caging you in, and bends to kiss you deeply once more. You strain up into it, wishing you could touch him but knowing obedience will be rewarded.

When he finally enters you in one long stroke you both groan, loud and unrestrained. He sets a pace that has you shaking apart again in minutes, writhing beneath him as he snaps his hips harder, hitting that sweet spot inside you relentlessly.

“That’s two,” he grits out when you finally go limp, overstimulated and trembling.

He flips you over effortlessly, pulling your hips up so you’re on your hands and knees before him. His fingers dig into the flesh of your hips as he drives into you from behind, even deeper at this angle. You clutch at the sheets, crying out shamelessly as he pounds into you. The new position puts your clit grinding against the blanket, ratcheting up the pleasure.

“You take me so well, cariño,” he praises through gritted teeth. “So perfect for me, only for me.”

You can only moan in response, lost in ecstasy as he takes you apart again. Your arms finally give out and you collapse forward, cheek pressed to the sheets. The change in angle has him nailing the exact spot where you need him with every thrust and you scream as you come undone around him once more.

He fucks you through it before flipping you onto your back again, barely giving you a moment to catch your breath before he’s sliding back into your oversensitive body. You whimper at the feeling, hovering right on that line between pleasure and pain.

“That’s three. Just one more, mi amor,” he murmurs, kissing you sweetly even as he rocks into you relentlessly. “You can give me one more, can’t you?”

You nod desperately, beyond words now. Your whole world narrows down to him — the smooth slide of his skin against yours, his panting breaths mingling with your own, the thick drag of him inside you hitting every nerve just right. Your nails dig into his back, clawing at him mindlessly as heat coils tighter and tighter within you.

“Come for me,” he growls. “Now.”

You shatter on command with a wail, vision whiting out as your climax crashes over you like a tsunami. You feel him follow you over the edge with a guttural groan, pulsing hot inside you as he finds his own release.

“And that,” he rasps against the column of your throat, “is four.”

For long moments you just cling to each other, breathing harshly as you come back down. He nuzzles into your neck, pressing feather-light kisses against your damp skin as your heart rates gradually return to normal.

“Mine,” he murmurs again, softer this time.

You smile, basking in the afterglow and his warm weight on top of you.

“Yours,” you agree, combing your fingers through his sweat-damp hair. “Always.”

He lifts his head to smile back down at you, eyes soft and sated. Leaning in, he kisses you sweetly, putting all his love and devotion into it. You sigh happily against his lips.

Eventually he pulls back again with a regretful little groan, slipping free of your body so he can gather you into his arms properly. You cuddle close against his chest, legs tangled together and his steady heartbeat beneath your ear.

“I’m sorry if I was too rough, mi amor,” he says after a moment, a tinge of uncertainty in his voice. “I just … I can’t stand the thought of anyone else touching you like that. Having you. You’re everything to me.”

You lean up on your elbow so you can meet his worried gaze. “Hey,” you say softly, cradling his face in your hand. “You have absolutely nothing to apologize for. I wanted that just as much as you did. I love belonging to you, Carlos.”

He turns his head to press a kiss to your palm, eyes warm. “Te amo, cariño. More than anything.”

“I love you too,” you tell him sincerely. “You’re the only one for me. Don’t ever doubt that.”

He smiles then, bright and beautiful like the sun coming out. Rolling onto his back, he tugs you along so you’re sprawled atop him, head tucked under his chin. His arms come around you, holding you close as he presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“Mine,” he says again, but this time it’s a contented sigh rather than a growl. You snuggle even closer with a happy hum of agreement.

“Yours.”

[themultifanshipper]

Of course Oscar deserved his win. But that didn't mean that Lando wasn't going to be a little shit about it.

Just imagine he's looking at Oscar in this pic and not max ok? Wrote this in like 30 minutes, I just needed to get it out of my brain

Warnings: Jealous Lando, anal sex, bad etiquette, crying, hair pulling, restraining?, drooling, first time domming/bottomming, filth inspired by the drama at hungary 2024

Lando followed Oscar all the way to his driver's room after the podium. They had about 15 minutes before they were scheduled for their post-race debrief (where Lando was probably going to get quite an earful) and he intended to use every single second of it to exact his petty revenge.

“What are you doing?” Oscar said, the breath being knocked out of him as Lando slammed him into the wall and plastered himself against the younger man's back.

“I'm rewarding you for your first win, baby” he said simply, nosing at Oscar's damp neck, leaving sweet kisses in his path.

When his hand reached around and grabbed Oscar through his suit, the younger man keened and rutted into Lando's open palm.

Lando was flying high, seeing his boyfriends willingness to submit to him so easily, because in their relationship Oscar always got what he wanted, and he always wanted to be in charge.

Today however, Lando was sick of Oscar getting his way, he'd almost hoped that McLaren would let him keep position but no such luck, and he decided to take it into his own hands (literally).

His hands slithered up to unzip Oscar's suit as he whispered into his ear seductively.

“Right now I'm in control, and you're going to take everything I give you, understood?”

Oscar gasped and nodded quickly, blush rapidly spreading over the side of his face that Lando could see.

Maybe Oscar needed this as much as Lando did.

In no time their suits were bunched up at their thighs, fireproofs still on, but pulled down enough for Lando to pull his cock out.

Oscar was open and leaking as he babbled his way through a plea for Lando to just get on with it.

So Lando obliged, one hand around Oscar's already marked up throat, the other spreading him open, as he breached his rim.

He stayed like that for a few seconds, just the tip inside, and Oscar got frustrated and wiggled his hips to try and push back against Lando's cock. But it was no use, Lando’s hand pushed Oscar back against the wall roughly, before sliding all the way in to the base.

Oscar was trapped between a wall and a hard place (excuse the pun) as Lando pinned him flat, and his hands scrambled uselessly for purchase against the bare wall.

Lando didn't waste any time pounding into his boyfriend, aware that they didn't have much time left, pouring all his anger and frustration into the movement of his hips as Oscar muffled his wails into his fist against the wall.

That wouldn't do. So Lando grabbed both Oscar's wrists and twisted his arms to pin them behind his back. He also threaded his fingers through Oscars hair and pulled.

The new position made Oscar arch and Lando hit impossibly deeper, making him moan even louder.

“That's right baby, I want to hear you… I want everyone in this fucking building to hear how good you are for me, and only me…”

He was getting close, the adrenaline from the race keeping him on edge ever since he got out of the car, so his other hand snuck down and started pumping Oscar's cock in time with his thrusts.

Oscar was sobbing by this point, drooling all over himself as Lando abused his prostate over and over.

About a second before he came, they heard a knock at the door, which happenend to be unlocked (by accident or on purpose, Lando would never admit) and a voice told them they were late for the meeting.

Unfortunately it was too late to stop the extremely loud, sinful (heavenly) noise that came out of Oscar as he came around Lando, and all over his hand and the wall.

There was no way whoever it was hadn't heard and quickly understood what was happening, and Lando tumbled over the edge at the thought of that (he was a freak, what can you do?) and he came deep inside his boyfriend, who was panting against the wall.

Lando wiped his hand on Oscar's fireproofs, quickly dragged his bottoms back up, and zipped him up again.

“There, you go in first and tell them I'll be there in a second” Lando said, taking in the fully disheveled state of the man in front of him.

Cheeks red and wet with tears, visible marks above his collar, suspicious bruise on his cheek, and the invisible, but very uncomfortable cum that was probably leaking out of him.

He was perfect. Lando was so disgustingly in love.

Oscar got to the meeting first, didn't look anyone in the eye and sat down quickly without a word.

Then Lando strolled in a minute later, cool as a cucumber and sat next to him.

One glance around the room told him everything he needed to know about who had been outside their door, as the woman on the other side of Oscar was redder than he thought was possible for a human being, and Zak stood there with fury in his eyes.

Lando smirked. Thank god he was a bit of a masochist, because he was really in for it now.

[pandapetals]

New Beginnings

Eight months after the miscarriage, Logan finds something that brings both of you hope.

professor logan howlett x professor fem!reader - established relationship (y'all married), no y/n used, no reader description, your an english professor, angst, miscarriage mentioned, found family, mentions of death and blood, some fluff towards the end, trigger warning

read on ao3 or find more parts for the series: here

divider credit: @enchanthings

Everything was a blur as Logan ran alongside Ororo through the smoldering remains of the village. The anti-mutant group had left their mark—fires burning through homes, screams echoing in the distance, blood staining the streets. Logan had seen carnage before, more times than he cared to remember, but it never got easier. No matter how many times he witnessed it, the devastation always gnawed at something deep inside him.

“Just get as many people out as possible!” Scott yelled as he dashed past, ushering a group of frightened kids toward safety.

Ororo nodded, extending her arms to summon rain that hissed and sizzled as it met the persistent flames. Logan stood beside her, silent, his keen senses scanning the chaos. But then he heard it—a sound so faint it almost slipped past him. A small, muffled cry.

“Logan, let’s move—” Ororo began, but she stopped when she saw his head snap in the direction of the sound.

"Go on without me," Logan muttered his attention already pulled away.

“Logan—where are you going?” Ororo called, but he barely raised a hand in acknowledgment as he started walking, his steps heavy yet purposeful. The sound—it was faint, a whisper through the destruction—was tugging at him, leading him.

He wove through the ruins, stepping over charred wood and shattered glass, his ears straining. The crying grew clearer the closer he got until he found himself standing in front of a small wooden cabin, or what was left of it. Half of it had collapsed, the other half barely standing, its roof caved in. The cold air rushed through the broken walls, carrying with it the faint sound of a baby crying.

Logan’s breath hitched, a flicker of something unnameable settling in his chest. 

Carefully, he stepped through the doorway, scanning the wreckage. The floor was littered with debris—splintered wood, shattered dishes, a child’s toy half-melted from the fire. His sharp eyes caught sight of a small, woven basket tucked under what remained of a scorched bedframe.

He knelt, heart pounding against his ribs as he reached for the basket. The crying grew louder as he pulled it free. Peeling back the tattered, soot-streaked blanket, he froze.

Inside was a baby—a tiny girl with chubby, tear-streaked cheeks, her face scrunched up as she wailed. She looked so small and fragile. Logan’s breath caught as he gently scooped her into his arms, his large hands cradling her with a care that might’ve shocked anyone who knew him. Her cries quieted almost immediately, her big, watery eyes blinking up at him.

Logan’s heart twisted painfully in his chest. She had stopped crying the second she was in his arms as if some instinct told her she was safe. She blinked again, and for a moment, Logan swore he saw something familiar in her gaze—those wide, hazel eyes, flecked with gold, looking at him like she knew him.

“No… can’t be,” he muttered, shaking his head. His jaw clenched, and he tore his eyes away from hers, staring instead at the blanket she’d been wrapped in. It was ragged and soot-stained, but it smelled faintly of home—of parents who were nowhere to be found.

The weight of the moment pressed down on him. He wasn’t sure if it was the chaos still raging outside, the vulnerability of the little girl in his arms, or the haunting ache of all the children and families he hadn’t been able to save over the years, but something inside him cracked. His protective instincts surged to the surface, raw and overwhelming.

“You’re alright now,” he muttered softly almost as if he were trying to convince himself. His thumb brushed gently over her tiny hand, which instinctively curled around his finger. The baby let out a soft coo, and Logan felt something unfamiliar bloom in his chest.

Ororo’s voice broke the moment as she called from outside. “Logan!”

He turned toward the door, the baby tucked securely in his arms, her little head resting against his chest. “Found somethin’,” he called back, his voice thick with emotion he didn’t quite know how to process yet.

When Ororo stepped inside and saw him holding the baby, her eyes widened in surprise. “Logan…”

“She’s alone,” he said, his voice quieter now, his gaze locked on the infant. “No parents. Nothin’. Just her.” His jaw tightened, a protective growl almost slipping out as he added, “I’m not leavin’ her.”

Ororo’s expression softened, her eyes lingering on Logan in a way that spoke of quiet surprise. Logan stood there, cradling the baby like he’d been doing it his whole life, though his jaw was tight, and his eyes betrayed the storm of conflict raging inside him.

“Alright,” Ororo said gently, her voice pulling Logan from his thoughts. “We’ll see if anyone knows anything.”

Logan gave a curt nod, his hands instinctively tightening their hold on the tiny bundle in his arms. He didn’t mean to grip her so protectively, but the thought of letting her go—even for a moment—sent a pang of unease through him. “Yeah,” he murmured though a strange tenderness lingered in it.

As they stepped out of the ruined cabin together, the chaos in the village had begun to quiet, but the air was still heavy with smoke and the low hum of grief. Logan’s gaze dropped to the baby, her face now peaceful as she slept soundly against his chest. She looked so small, so fragile, and yet she had somehow calmed the moment he’d held her. Her tiny hand curled against his finger like it was her lifeline. He swore, just for a second, that her tiny features reminded him of you.

He shook his head, his brows furrowing. Get a grip, Logan. This wasn’t his kid. This baby was someone else’s, a victim of this senseless attack, and yet... the pull he felt in his chest was undeniable. Protective, raw, and something deeper he couldn’t quite put into words.

When they reached the center of the village, Scott was standing among the survivors, his arms crossed, his expression tense as he organized the final efforts to evacuate. He turned at the sound of their footsteps, his eyes narrowing slightly as he noticed the small figure cradled in Logan’s arms.

“What’s that?” Scott asked, his voice tinged with confusion as he nodded toward the baby.

Logan’s jaw tightened, but it was Ororo who answered. “Logan found her in one of the cabins on the edge of the village. Did anyone mention a missing baby?” Her eyes scanned the area, her brow furrowed as if hoping someone would rush forward with answers.

Scott shook his head, his expression grim. “No, everyone I helped didn’t mention anything about a baby. Most of the families I spoke to are accounted for.” He paused, his gaze flicking to the baby. “We can take her back to the mansion. Maybe the Professor can help us figure out where she belongs.”

Logan nodded silently, though his grip on the baby didn’t loosen. As much as he hated to admit it, the idea of letting someone else figure this out twisted something deep inside him. She’d stopped crying the moment he’d picked her up, and the thought of handing her off to someone else made his stomach churn. But this wasn’t about him.

“Here, let me,” Logan said, shifting slightly as if to pass the baby to Ororo. “I’ll stay behind, make sure there’s no one else in the village.”

But the moment Ororo’s arms brushed against the baby, her eyes fluttered open, and she let out a piercing wail, her tiny face scrunching up in distress. Logan froze, his heart squeezing at the sound.

“I don’t think she wants that,” Ororo joked softly, her gaze softening as she watched the baby squirm in Logan’s arms.

Logan huffed, his frustration barely masking the tug of something warmer. “Well, I can’t just take her with me,” he argued, though his words lacked their usual bite.

Scott stepped forward, holding his hands out. “Here, let me. Nathan loves it when I hold him. Babies can sense calm.” He smirked, clearly teasing Logan.

Scott took the baby, her cries only growing louder as her tiny fists flailed in protest. Logan’s lips twitched into half a smirk, half a grimace. “Guess calm doesn’t work with everyone, huh, Summers?” he said, his tone edged with dry humor.

Scott’s confidence faltered as he handed the baby back quickly, muttering, “Alright, fine. Not a fan of me, I get it.”

The baby quieted instantly as she nestled back into Logan’s chest, her tiny body curling against his like it was the only place she wanted to be. Logan blinked, staring down at her in disbelief.

“I think she likes you,” Ororo said with a knowing smile, her voice teasing but gentle.

Logan looked down at the baby, his rugged face softening. Her little hand reached out, gripping his finger again, and his throat tightened. “Well,” he muttered, his voice thick, “I can’t exactly blame her. I’m the only one here who knows how to carry her right.”

Ororo chuckled, sharing a look with Scott, an unspoken understanding between them. They saw it too—the way Logan held her, the way he softened just a fraction when she looked at him. This wasn’t just about finding the baby’s family anymore. Something had shifted.

Logan glanced back at the baby one last time before nodding toward the jet. “Alright,” he said, his voice quieter now. “Let’s take her back. The Professor will figure somethin’ out.”

Logan stepped onto the Blackbird, the weight in his arms felt heavier than it should’ve. The baby had settled back into his chest. Her steady breathing was the only sound cutting through the distant echoes of the chaos they had left behind in the village.

But Logan’s thoughts weren’t on the charred ruins or even on the anti-mutant group they had been sent to stop. His mind was spiraling—back to you, back to the loss you had both endured, back to the raw, untended wound that still lingered between you.

What if this baby—so fragile, so small—triggered those memories for you? What if taking her back to the mansion opened up wounds you were still healing from? 

Logan’s jaw tightened, his usual resolve cracking under the weight of his thoughts. He wasn’t sure he could take seeing that look in your eyes again—the same look you’d had when you sobbed in his arms after the miscarriage. The memory hit him like a punch to the gut, and he instinctively held the baby a little closer, as if shielding her from his fears.

“Logan,” Scott’s voice pulled him from his thoughts. He was standing near the cockpit, his expression unreadable but pointed. “You coming or are you planning to stay out there?”

Logan grunted in response, moving to take a seat near the back of the jet. He avoided Scott’s gaze, focusing instead on the baby in his arms as she stirred slightly. He muttered something low, soothing, and she settled again, her tiny face pressing against his chest.

Scott didn’t move. Instead, he crossed his arms and leaned slightly against the edge of the cockpit door, watching Logan for a moment longer than Logan was comfortable with.

“What?” Logan finally snapped, his voice low but tinged with frustration.

Scott raised an eyebrow, then pushed off the door and walked closer, his movements slow and deliberate. “You’re worried,” he said simply, his tone unusually neutral.

Logan scoffed, shaking his head. “I don’t get worried, Summers.”

“Right,” Scott said dryly, taking a seat across from him. “And yet, you’re holding that baby like the world’s about to come for her any second.”

Logan’s grip instinctively tightened, his knuckles going white against the edge of the blanket. “You don’t know what you’re talkin’ about,” he muttered, though the edge in his voice betrayed him.

Scott’s gaze softened, surprising Logan enough to look up. “It’s okay, you know,” Scott said quietly. “To care. To worry. It doesn’t make you weak, Logan.”

Logan’s jaw clenched, his hazel eyes narrowing as he tried to deflect. “You sound like Chuck now. I don’t need a lecture, Summers.”

Scott leaned back, his arms crossing loosely. “I’m not giving you a lecture. I’m just saying… I’ve been there.”

Logan’s brows furrowed, his confusion clear even through his gruff exterior.

“With Nathan,” Scott continued, his voice lower now. “When Jean and I were expecting him… I was terrified. I didn’t think I’d be enough for him, for her. After we lost the first one…” He paused, swallowing hard as his usually stoic mask cracked just slightly. “I thought the grief would break us. But it didn’t. We were okay. Eventually.”

Logan’s throat tightened. He looked down at the baby, who was now peacefully dozing against him. “What if she’s not okay?” he asked finally, his voice so low it was almost a whisper. “What if we’re not?”

Scott’s expression softened further. “You and I both know you’re tougher than that, Logan. And so is she. You’ve been through hell and back, and you’re still here. You’ll make it work.”

Logan’s gaze flicked up to meet Scott’s, a rare moment of unspoken understanding passing between them. Scott’s words didn’t fix the knot of fear twisting in his chest, but they helped loosen it—just enough to breathe.

With a quiet grunt, Logan looked down at the baby, his thumb brushing lightly against her tiny fist. “She stopped crying the second I picked her up,” he murmured, almost to himself. “Like she knew…”

Scott nodded slowly. “Maybe she does.”

Logan didn’t respond, his thoughts already drifting back to you. He could picture your face, the way your eyes lit up when you smiled, the warmth you brought into his life without even trying. He couldn’t shake the worry that bringing this baby home would remind you of what you’d lost. But deep down, there was a small, fragile hope—a flicker of light in the darkness—that this could also be something new. Something healing. Something for both of you to hold onto.

He sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair before meeting Scott’s gaze again. “You better not tell anyone about this conversation.”

Scott smirked faintly, his usual smugness tempered by something softer. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” 

As the Blackbird took off, Logan sat quietly, the baby cradled against his chest. He didn’t know what the future held, but for the first time in months, he was willing to hope. When the mansion came into view, he tightened his hold on the baby, his resolve hardening.

Whatever came next, he’d face it—with you by his side. Because if this little girl was meant to find him then maybe she was meant to find both of you.

𓂃

Once inside the mansion, the tension in Logan’s chest seemed to grow heavier, the walls of the grand space pressing in on him as he cradled the tiny baby against his chest. Scott, Ororo and he stood in the living room, the warmth of the fire in the nearby hearth doing little to ease the weight of the moment.

Jean entered moments later, little Nathan trailing behind her with his usual boundless energy. Her steps faltered slightly when her gaze landed on the baby nestled in Logan’s arms, her expression shifting from surprise to a tender understanding.

“We found her abandoned,” Scott explained, scooping Nathan into his arms when the boy tried to dart toward Logan and the baby, clearly curious. Nathan giggled, squirming in his father’s grasp, oblivious to the tension in the room.

Jean’s eyes softened as they flicked between Logan and the baby, her voice gentle. “She must be hungry. I have some formula left upstairs. I’ll go prepare a bottle.”

Logan gave her a quick nod of thanks, though his eyes never left the baby. As Jean disappeared up the stairs, Ororo stepped closer, her gaze calm and reassuring. “Logan, you need to go talk to her,” Ororo said softly, her hands reaching out to take the baby from his arms.

Logan’s grip instinctively tightened for just a second before he forced himself to let go, his jaw clenching. The baby squirmed as Ororo carefully cradled her, a small cry already forming on her lips. Logan winced at the sound, his protective instincts kicking in again, but Ororo gave him a pointed look. “The baby will be fine, Logan. Go.”

He hesitated, his boots rooted to the floor, but finally nodded, running a hand through his hair before turning toward the hallway that led to your shared room. Each step felt heavier than the last, his mind racing. What if you couldn’t handle this? What if it brought back everything you’d been trying so hard to move past? The thought of hurting you again made his chest tighten.

When he reached the door to your room, Logan paused, his hand resting on the doorknob as if it weighed a thousand pounds. With a deep breath, he finally stepped inside. 

You were sitting at your desk, fingers flying over your keyboard, a mess of papers scattered around you. The faint glow from your laptop illuminated your face, and despite the chaos of the workspace, Logan couldn’t help but feel a flicker of calm at the sight of you.

Your eyes darted up when you heard him, a teasing smile spreading across your lips as you stood. “I was wondering when you’d get back. Started to worry,” you joked, walking over to him. You pressed a soft kiss to his cheek before pulling back, your hands brushing his arms. “And look at that, you made it back in one piece.”

Logan’s lips quirked into a faint smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. The usual gruff confidence you knew so well had been replaced by something uncertain. The shift in his demeanor made your smile fade as you studied him.

“What’s wrong?” you asked gently, your tone laced with concern as you searched his face for an answer.

Logan let out a slow breath, pulling a hand free to rub the back of his neck. “We… found somethin’—someone—on the mission,” he began, his voice low and steady. “A baby. She was abandoned in one of the cabins. There was no sign of her parents… no one claimed her.”

Your heart sank at his words, your body teasing. “A baby?” you whispered.

He nodded, his gaze dropping to the floor before meeting yours again. “I didn’t know what to do, so we brought her back here. She… she’s just a baby, sweetheart. Tiny. Fragile.” His voice wavered slightly, and he took a step closer to you. “When I picked her up, she stopped cryin’. Like she… trusted me or somethin’. I don’t know. It messed with my head.”

Your chest tightened as you watched him, his usual gruff demeanor softened. “Logan…” 

He held up a hand, cutting you off gently. “Look, I don’t want to push anything on you. I don’t want you to think I’m hopin’ for somethin’ or tryin’ to replace what we lost. That ain’t it. I just…” He trailed off, his gaze flicking to the door as if he could still hear the baby’s faint cries. “I needed to tell you. I needed you to know. But if this is too much—if you don’t wanna see her—I’ll understand.”

The room was filled with silence, the weight of his words settling between you. You felt a storm of emotions swirling inside you—grief, confusion, a flicker of something you didn’t dare name yet. “I don’t know, Logan,” you admitted, your voice trembling. “I don’t know if I can handle it. What if…” You couldn’t finish the sentence, your throat tightening.

“You’re stronger than you think, darlin’,” he said softly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “And I’m not gonna let you go through this alone. Whatever happens, we’ll figure it out together. But you need to see her. Just… see her. That’s all I’m askin’.”

You searched his eyes, seeing the quiet plea there, the vulnerability he rarely let show. Finally, you nodded, your voice barely audible. “Okay.”

Logan’s shoulders relaxed slightly, and he gave your hands a gentle squeeze. “She’s with Ororo,” he said, his voice steadier now. “She’s… somethin’ else. I think you’ll see what I mean.”

Logan took your hand, his grip firm but tender, as you both descended the stairs. The silence between you was heavy with unspoken thoughts. You couldn’t ignore the flicker of uncertainty stirring in your chest. This was just a baby, you reminded yourself, but the way Logan talked and acted… it felt like something more, something that scared you. What if this was just another path to disappointment? What if the cracks in your heart grew deeper with hope that led nowhere?

Logan glanced at you, his hazel eyes soft, but they carried their own storm. You couldn’t tell who he was trying to reassure more—himself or you. The way he held your hand told you he was wrestling with the same doubts, the same fears.

When you entered the living room, the sight hit you like a wave. Jean sat on the couch, cradling the baby girl in her arms as she gently fed her a bottle. Nathan sat beside her, his wide, curious eyes fixated on the infant. The scene was warm, peaceful even, but it stirred something deep within you.

Jean looked up as you walked in, offering a soft, warm smile. "She’s doing better now," she said, her voice quiet, as if not to disturb the fragile calm. "She’s not crying anymore."

Logan’s presence shifted, his protectiveness already kicking in as he moved closer. “She was screaming her head off earlier,” he said, his voice gruff but lined with tenderness. His eyes were locked on the baby as though she were the most precious thing he’d ever seen.

Jean chuckled, adjusting the bottle in the baby’s mouth. "She was until I gave her this," she said, glancing down at the little girl with a fond expression. Then she looked back at Logan, her smile fading slightly, replaced by something deeper. “But I can sense something else. She… wants you, Logan.”

Jean stood, moving to hand the baby to him, but Logan hesitated, his eyes darting to you like he needed your permission. You froze, your breath catching in your throat as your gaze locked onto the baby. There was something about her, something undeniable. You told yourself it was just your mind playing tricks, your heart reaching for something it shouldn’t, but you couldn’t ignore the pull in your chest.

She looked… familiar, even though that was impossible. Her tiny face, soft and full of innocence, and her dark, thick hair—what little there was of it—felt like it belonged. Your throat tightened, and you weren’t sure if it was wonder or fear threatening to choke you.

“Sweetheart…” Logan’s voice broke through your daze, gentle but urging. He had crossed the room to stand in front of you, his body close enough to shield you from everything else. His hazel eyes searched yours, and for a moment, it felt like the two of you were standing on the edge of something monumental.

You slowly nodded and Logan reached out to take the baby from Jean. The moment his hands settled on her tiny frame, she stopped suckling on the bottle and looked up at him. Her wide, bright eyes blinked at Logan, and he swore his heart skipped a beat. They were strikingly similar to his own—soft hazel, framed with a kind of quiet wonder. He tried to convince himself it was just his mind playing tricks on him, a cruel echo of the past, but the connection he felt at that moment was undeniable.

“She looks at you like she already knows you,” Jean said softly, a faint smile on her lips. Her words carried a weight that sent a shiver down your spine.

Logan shifted his hold on the baby, his rough fingers brushing against her tiny hand. “I don’t—” He stopped himself, his voice cracking slightly. He glanced at you again, his vulnerability laid bare. "I don’t know what this is, but it feels… different.”

Jean cleared her throat, her expression shifting into something serious. “There’s something else,” she said, looking between the two of you. “I didn’t want to say anything earlier because I wasn’t sure, but… I’m picking up on something from her mind.”

You blinked, snapping out of your daze. “What do you mean?”

Jean’s gaze softened. “She’s a mutant,” she said gently. “It’s subtle, but it’s there. Her power—it’s healing. When she feels connected to someone, she can heal minor injuries. Cuts, bruises… even small aches.”

You stared at her, the words hitting you like a weight in your chest. Logan’s arms instinctively tightened around the baby, as if he were shielding her from a world that might hurt her. He looked down at the little girl, his thumb brushing gently against her tiny fist.

Healing. It was such a simple, beautiful gift. One that only deepened the pull you felt toward her. Your mind reeled, but somewhere beneath the chaos was a quiet, steady feeling that this—her—was meant to be.

Jean’s voice softened even more. “It happens unintentionally. She doesn’t control it yet, but… she just healed a scratch on Nathan’s arm. I think she’s been trying to connect with you, Logan.”

Logan swallowed hard, his jaw tightening as he turned to you. His hazel eyes, filled with emotion, searched yours. “Do you… do you want to hold her?” he murmured, his voice breaking slightly.

You hesitated, your eyes flicking down to the baby nestled in Logan’s arms. She looked so tiny, so innocent, and yet the thought of holding her felt right. Slowly, you nodded, stepping closer.

Logan shifted carefully, cradling her as though she were made of glass before gently placing her into your waiting arms. The weight of her against you was lighter than you expected, yet it felt so significant, like holding something precious that could change everything. You looked down at her tiny face, her round cheeks flushed as her eyes fluttered open. For a brief moment, her gaze darted between Logan and you, her bright hazel eyes sparkling with curiosity.

“She’s so precious,” you whispered, your voice barely audible as you adjusted her against your chest. You held her cautiously, almost afraid to move, worried that any wrong gesture would disturb her fragile peace. Your heart hammered in your chest as you braced for her to cry or squirm.

But she didn’t.

Instead, her tiny hand moved from where it had rested near the bottle, her delicate fingers brushing against your shirt before gripping it with surprising strength. You froze, tears welling in your eyes as you felt her warmth against you. Her tiny lips curved into the faintest smile, and you swore it felt like your chest cracked open, all your reservations melting into the air.

“She must like you,” Logan said softly. He stepped closer, his hand brushing over your back as if grounding you both. “Because she wouldn’t even let Scott hold her.”

You let out a shaky laugh, a single sob escaping your lips as you looked down at her. “She’s perfect,” you whispered, cradling her closer. Her tiny fist tugged at your shirt again, and something about her touch sent warmth through you that was hard to describe—comforting, but also terrifying.

Logan reached out, his large, rough hand gently brushing against the baby’s cheek. She cooed softly, leaning into his touch before looking back at you. “See?” he said, his voice tinged with awe. “She’s trying to connect with you now.”

You didn’t respond, unsure of what to say. The weight of it all—the connection she seemed to have with both of you, the impossibility of the situation—felt overwhelming. You wanted to believe this was meant to be, but a flicker of fear lingered in your chest, whispering warnings of heartbreak and loss.

Before you could speak, footsteps approached, and Ororo and Scott entered the room. Ororo’s gaze softened the moment she saw the baby nestled in your arms, while Scott frowned slightly, his eyes flicking between you and Logan.

“What’s going on here?” Scott asked, crossing his arms as he studied the scene.

“She’s… connecting with them,” Jean explained gently, stepping aside to give them a better view. “I think there’s something more to this. She’s a mutant, and she’s already started to bond with Logan and… her.” Jean nodded toward you with a small smile.

Ororo stepped closer, her eyes warm as she looked at the baby. “She seems so at peace with both of you,” she remarked, her voice soft. “It’s like she knows.”

Logan reached for your hand, lacing his fingers with yours as if to steady himself. “She won’t even let anyone else hold her,” he said, his tone a mix of pride and protectiveness. “It’s like… she chose us.”

Scott’s frown deepened, though there was no malice in his expression—only concern. “Look, I get it,” he said, his voice measured. “She’s a baby, and it’s easy to get attached. But you two need to be realistic. We don’t know anything about her parents, where she came from, or even why she was abandoned. This… this could get complicated.”

Logan’s jaw clenched, and you felt the tension in his grip. He was seconds away from snapping back, but before he could, Ororo placed a hand on Scott’s arm. “Scott,” she said gently, “just look at them.”

Scott’s eyes softened slightly as he glanced between you and Logan, and for the first time, you saw a flicker of understanding cross his face. He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m just saying… talk to the Professor first. Make sure this is something you both really want to pursue.”

You nodded, glancing down at the baby as she let out a soft coo. “We will,” you said quietly. “But… it’s hard to explain. It feels like she was meant to find us.”

Scott met Logan’s gaze, his expression shifting into something more sincere. “If this is what you both want, then… I hope it works out. Just don’t rush into it, okay?”

Logan nodded reluctantly, his protective instincts still flaring, but he squeezed your hand for reassurance. 

Ororo and Scott stepped back, giving you both some space as the baby let out a soft yawn, her tiny hand still gripping your shirt. Logan leaned in, brushing a gentle kiss against your temple. “She already loves you,” he murmured, his voice filled with awe.

You looked up at him, your eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "Logan," you whispered, your voice trembling. "Scott’s right. We can’t just rush into this. We don’t even know if her parents are alive or—" Your words faltered, catching in your throat as the weight of the uncertainty pressed down on you.

Logan held your gaze, the flicker of emotion in his hazel eyes betraying the composed mask he was trying to maintain. He reached out, his rough hand gently brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I know,” he said softly. “I’m not sayin’ we just take her and call it a day. I just… I need to know. I need to be sure.”

You bit your lip, glancing down at the baby nestled in your arms. Her little chest rose and fell peacefully as she slept. The sight tugged at your heart, and yet, the weight of responsibility gnawed at the edges of your mind. You couldn’t let emotion cloud the bigger picture, no matter how much a part of you already felt tethered to her.

“Alright,” you finally murmured. “Let’s talk to the Professor.”

Logan nodded, his jaw tightening as if bracing himself for what was to come. He placed his hand lightly on your lower back, guiding you toward Xavier’s office. Every step felt heavier than the last as if the weight of the decision ahead pressed harder with each passing moment. Logan remained quiet, his usual gruffness replaced by an uncharacteristic tenderness, his hand never leaving your back.

When you reached the Professor’s office, Logan knocked once before pushing the door open. Xavier was already waiting, his hands folded in his lap, his expression calm yet curious. His gaze softened the moment he noticed the baby in your arms.

“I was wondering when you’d come to see me about the baby,” Xavier said, his voice soothing.

Logan furrowed his brow, his grip on your back tightening slightly. “You already know?” he asked.

Xavier gave a small smile, tilting his head slightly. “You can’t bring something so… profound into this mansion without me sensing it. Please, sit.”

You and Logan exchanged a glance before settling into the chairs in front of Xavier’s desk. The baby stirred slightly in your arms but didn’t wake. Logan leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, his hands clasped tightly together.

“We found her during the mission,” Logan began, his voice low but steady. “She was alone in a cabin. No sign of her parents, no one claimin’ her. Jean says she’s a mutant. She’s got some kind of… healing ability.”

Xavier’s eyes flickered with interest as he leaned forward slightly. “Healing, you say?”

Logan nodded, his jaw tightening. “She’s connected to us. She won’t let anyone else hold her without cryin’. It’s like…” He trailed off, struggling to put the inexplicable connection into words.

“Like she’s meant to be with you,” Xavier finished softly, his gaze shifting to you.

You swallowed hard, the knot in your chest tightening. “We just… we need to know if her parents are out there. If they’re alive. We can’t—” Your voice broke slightly, and Logan’s hand found yours, his thumb brushing soothing circles over your knuckles. “We can’t just assume it’s up to us.”

Xavier regarded you both for a long moment before nodding. “Of course. If her parents are still out there, it’s only right to find them. But to do so, I’ll need to delve into her mind, to see if there’s anything she remembers—even subconsciously.”

Logan tensed beside you, his protective instincts flaring. “Is that safe for her?” he asked, his tone edged with worry.

Xavier gave a reassuring smile. “It won’t harm her. I’ll only be looking for surface-level memories, nothing invasive.”

You hesitated before finally nodding. “Alright. If it helps us figure out where she belongs… do it.”

Xavier wheeled closer, his calm presence filling the room. He reached out gently, his fingers just brushing the baby’s forehead. For a moment, the room was silent, the air heavy with anticipation. Logan’s hand tightened around yours, his tension palpable as he watched the Professor.

Finally, Xavier’s eyes fluttered open, a mixture of emotions crossing his face. “Her parents…” he began, his voice tinged with sadness. “They called her Laura.” 

You felt your breath catch, the name settling in your chest like a quiet weight. “Laura,” you whispered, looking down at the baby in your arms. It felt right as if the name had always lingered in your mind. 

Logan’s jaw clenched, his protective instinct only growing stronger. “What happened to them?” he asked, his voice rough.

Xavier hesitated before continuing. “It wasn’t clear, but they were in danger. As you saw, the anti-mutant attackers destroyed their village. They were trying to protect her, keep her safe by hiding her.” He paused, “They…they loved her very much.” 

A tear slipped down your cheek as you looked at Logan, his expression a mixture of grief and determination. “So, what now?” you asked quietly.

Xavier straightened slightly. “I’ll use Cerebro to search for any other relatives or connections, but… if there’s no one else, the decision will fall to you.”

Logan’s hand tightened on yours, his hazel eyes meeting yours with an unspoken question. You felt the same pull you’d felt from the moment you held her—a sense that this was more than coincidence. It felt like fate.

𓂃

Logan and you sat side by side on the worn couch, the soft glow of a table lamp casting a warm light across the living room. In the bassinet beside you, Laura slept soundly, her tiny chest rising and falling with each delicate breath. The peaceful silence of the room felt surreal, as though the universe had pressed pause, just for the three of you. Neither of you had left her side since Logan had brought her into the mansion, and despite the chaos of the day, the thought of her being here had begun to settle into something strangely comforting.

You glanced down at your intertwined hands, your thumb idly tracing circles against Logan’s rough, calloused skin. “I–I don’t know how to put this,” you began, hesitating as the words lodged in your throat. You swallowed hard, glancing at Logan. “Is it… weird that I feel like she looks like us?” Your voice was soft, tinged with uncertainty.

Logan turned his head toward you, his hazel eyes catching yours. “It’s not weird,” he murmured. “When I found her, I thought the same thing.” He shifted slightly, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. “I thought she looked like you—right from the start.”

A faint smile tugged at your lips, but it wavered. “And her eyes,” you whispered, glancing at the bassinet. The baby’s tiny hand had curled into a loose fist, resting against her cheek. “They mirror yours. It’s like… like she’s already part of us.”

Logan exhaled deeply, his free hand running through his hair. “I don’t know how to explain it,” he admitted. “I’ve seen a lot of things in my life, but this… it’s different.” He paused, his gaze shifting to Laura. “When I picked her up, it was like somethin’ in me just… clicked. Like I had to protect her. Like I couldn’t walk away, even if I tried.”

You leaned your head against his shoulder, your fingers squeezing his hand. “It feels so strange, doesn’t it? Like we’re meant to have her here but at the same time… I don’t want to let myself hope too much. What if it’s not meant to be?”

Logan tilted his head down, pressing a soft kiss to your hair. “I get it,” he murmured. “I don’t want to get ahead of myself either. But…” He hesitated, his voice faltering for a moment before he continued. “She’s here now. And she’s safe. That’s what matters.”

Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes, but they weren’t entirely from sadness. “It’s comforting, isn’t it?” you said softly. “Like maybe… maybe this is how it was supposed to happen. I know it doesn’t make sense, but it feels like she’s already a part of us.”

Logan nodded, his grip on your hand tightening ever so slightly. “It’s scary as hell,” he admitted, his voice raw. “But yeah… it feels right.” His eyes softened as he glanced at the bassinet again, his lips curving into a small tender smile. “She’s already got me wrapped around her little finger.”

You softly laughed, your voice laced with emotion. “She’s got me too,” you whispered, your head still resting against his shoulder.

“There you are,” Xavier’s calm, measured voice broke the silence as he wheeled into the room, his sharp eyes softening as they landed on the bassinet. A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “I see you’re both smitten by her.”

Logan’s lips twitched into a faint smirk, though the emotions flickering in his hazel eyes betrayed the vulnerability behind them. “Guess you could say that,” he said. He glanced down at the sleeping baby, gently stroking her cheek. “She’s got a way of growin’ on you.”

Xavier nodded knowingly, folding his hands in his lap as his expression grew more serious. “I’ve completed my search using Cerebro,” he began his tone gentle but laced with the weight of what he was about to say. “I… wasn’t able to locate her parents. From what I could glean, it seems they perished in the attack on the village.”

Your breath hitched, your hand instinctively moving to cover your mouth. Logan froze, his jaw tightening as he looked down at Laura, his thumb brushing softly over her small fist. The room seemed to hold its breath.

“There’s more,” Xavier continued, his gaze steady. “I reached out to some of the survivors from the village. They… were hesitant at first, but once they understood she was safe here, they gave their approval for her to remain at the mansion. They believe this is the best place for her.”

A mix of emotions swirled in your chest—grief for the loss of her parents, relief that the villagers had entrusted her to you, and something deeper that felt like fate settling quietly into place. 

“She’s really alone, isn’t she?” you whispered, your voice breaking as you looked at Logan.

Logan let out a heavy sigh, his grip on Laura’s tiny hand tightening ever so slightly as though he could shield her from the cruel reality of the world. “Not anymore,” he said firmly, his voice low but resolute. He looked up at Xavier, his gaze fierce. “She’s got us now.”

Your heart swelled at his words, a tear slipping down your cheek as you reached over to squeeze his free hand. “Logan,” you murmured, your voice trembling with emotion. “Are you sure?”

He turned to you, his expression softening as his thumb brushed your knuckles. “I’ve never been more sure of anything, sweetheart,” he said, his voice raw but filled with conviction. “I don’t know why, but… she feels like she’s already ours.”

Xavier watched the two of you quietly, his wise eyes filled with something akin to approval. “Raising a child is no small task,” he said after a moment. “But I see the love and determination in both of you. I have no doubt that Laura will thrive here under your care.”

Logan nodded, his throat bobbing as he swallowed hard. “We’ll do whatever it takes. She deserves a chance—a family.”

“And she’ll have one,” you added, your voice steadier now as you gently placed your hand on Laura’s tiny foot, marveling at how small and fragile she was. “We’ll make sure she’s safe and loved.”

Xavier’s smile returned, a quiet, knowing warmth radiating from him. “Then it’s decided,” he said simply. “Laura will stay here, and she will be raised with the love and care she deserves.”

Logan glanced down at Laura, taking her into his arms. She stirred slightly, her tiny fingers curling around the edge of his flannel shirt. He let out a soft chuckle, his voice a low rumble. “Looks like you’re stuck with us, kid.”

You laughed softly through your tears, leaning your head against Logan’s shoulder as you both gazed down at the baby girl who had already stolen your heart.

𓂃

You had never realized how fast time flew by until a week had blinked by, each day blurring into the next as you and Logan adjusted to life as new parents. Caring for Laura had turned your world upside down in the most beautiful, chaotic way. The first few days had been a scramble—borrowing whatever Jean and Scott had left over from when Nathan was a baby: oversized onesies that swallowed Laura’s tiny frame, an old bassinet, and some hand-me-down bottles. It wasn’t perfect, but it worked… until Logan decided to take matters into his own hands.

One evening, after realizing you were running low on baby supplies, Logan announced with a gruff determination that he was going to the store. You’d laughed at his insistence, thinking he’d return with just the basics. Instead, Logan came back armed like a man ready to conquer fatherhood: bags overflowing with formula, diapers, blankets, and enough baby clothes to fill an entire dresser.

“Logan,” you said, half-laughing as you rifled through one of the sacks, pulling out tiny shoes, a pack of pacifiers, and a set of colorful bibs. “I don’t think we need all of this. Did you leave anything in the store for anyone else?”

He smirked, leaning casually against the kitchen counter as if he hadn’t just wiped out an entire baby aisle. “Figured better safe than sorry, darlin’,” he said, crossing his arms, clearly proud of himself.

You paused when you pulled out a purple onesie with pandas on it. It was so adorable it made your heart squeeze. “Okay,” you murmured, holding it up. “Maybe we did need this one.”

Logan’s smirk softened into a grin, and he pushed off the counter to walk over to you, slipping his arms around your waist and pulling you against his chest. “Knew you’d like that one,” he murmured.

You tilted your head to look up at him, your smile growing as you held up the tiny panda onesie again for emphasis. “You’re such a big softy, you know that? You act all tough, but then you come home with this,” you teased.

Logan smirked, leaning down to press a warm kiss to your temple before resting his head on your shoulder. His arms around your waist felt protective, anchoring you in his steady presence.

“What? No comeback?” you quipped, arching a brow as you glanced at him out of the corner of your eye. “Usually, you’d try to deny it. Something about your ‘gruff reputation’ or whatever.”

To your surprise, Logan didn’t rise to the bait. Instead, a small, genuine smile played on his lips as he glanced at the onesie in your hand. “Doesn’t bother me, sweetheart,” he murmured. “Maybe I need to be soft for my girls.”

The simple words hit you like a wave, stirring something deep in your chest. My girls. The way he said it—so natural, so full of love—brought tears to your eyes before you could stop them. You quickly blinked, but Logan wasn’t one to miss much.

“Hey,” he said softly, tilting his head to look up at you, concern flickering in his hazel eyes as his arms tightened slightly around your waist. “What’s wrong?”

You shook your head, the tears threatening to spill as a soft laugh escaped you. “Nothing,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “It’s just… hearing you say that.”

“Say what?” he pressed gently, his rough fingers brushing a stray tear from your cheek.

“‘My girls,’” you repeated, the words catching in your throat. “It just… it feels right. I don’t know, Logan. I didn’t think I could feel this happy again. Not after—” You paused, swallowing hard as the weight of everything you’d been through together settled between you.

Logan’s expression softened, and he cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing tenderly against your skin. “You deserve to be happy, sweetheart,” he gently said. “We both do. And this… all of this? Feels right to me too.”

You leaned into his touch, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek, your hand resting lightly on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “I love you,” you whispered, the words carrying every ounce of gratitude and affection you felt for him.

A soft smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “I love you too,” he said, his voice rough but tender.

You both stood there for a moment, wrapped up in each other and the quiet joy of the life you were building together. Nearby, Laura stirred in her bassinet, letting out a tiny, contented coo that made you both glance her way.

Logan chuckled softly, his hand moving to rest over yours on his chest. “Looks like someone’s tryin’ to remind us who’s really in charge around here,” he joked, his tone warm.

You laughed, wiping the last of your tears as you turned to look at Laura. “She’s already got you wrapped around her tiny little finger, doesn’t she?”

“Not just me,” Logan countered, raising a brow. “You’re just as bad.”

“Fair,” you admitted, leaning your head against his shoulder as you gazed at her. “But if being soft means loving her and you with my whole heart, I guess I’m okay with that.”

Laura’s soft cries broke the cozy quiet of the room, causing both you and Logan to freeze mid-conversation. Her tiny whimpers filled the space, and you immediately started to move, but so did Logan.

“I’ll get her,” Logan said gruffly, already reaching toward the bassinet.

“No way!” you countered, grabbing his arm and pulling him back. “It’s my turn. You’ve been hogging her all day, Logan.”

“Hoggin’ her?” Logan repeated, his eyebrows shooting up in mock indignation. The corner of his mouth tugged into that familiar smirk, the one that told you he was about to start trouble. “Darlin’, I’m just better at keepin’ her calm. You know it.”

Your jaw dropped as you swatted his arm. “Excuse me? She literally fell asleep on me last night—not you, Mr. ‘Magic Touch.’”

Logan chuckled, a warm, low sound that sent a shiver down your spine even as you glared at him. “I’m just sayin’, sweetheart,” he teased, crossing his arms casually, “She knows who her favorite is.”

“Oh, please,” you muttered, narrowing your eyes at him as Laura’s cries softened into tiny whimpers, her big, round eyes blinking up at the two of you. She lay there, her little fists flailing as if she were judging the both of you for taking too long.

Logan knelt first, his large hands moving instinctively as he reached to scoop her up. “There, sweetie,” he murmured, his voice dipping into that rare softness he reserved for the two of you. Laura stopped whimpering almost instantly, her tiny hand gripping his finger like it was the only thing keeping her from crying.

You couldn’t help but feel your chest tighten at the sight. He looked so at ease with her, holding her close like she was the most precious thing in the world. But you couldn’t resist teasing him.

“Okay, tough guy,” you said, crossing your arms with a playful smirk. “Don’t think I didn’t notice her crying stopped the moment I got closer.”

Logan glanced up at you, his hazel eyes sparkling with amusement. “Is that so?” he rumbled, swaying gently as Laura let out a tiny coo. “’Cause from where I’m standin’, she looks pretty content right here.”

“Uh-huh,” you quipped, stepping closer and reaching out to take her. “Let me see my girl. You’ve had her glued to your chest for hours.”

Logan hesitated for a beat, his arms tightening ever so slightly around Laura. “Careful,” he said, his tone laced with a teasing edge. “You don’t have the ‘magic touch,’ remember?”

You rolled your eyes, gently easing Laura into your arms. “Watch and learn, Howlett,” you said, cradling her against your chest. She snuggled into you without protest, her little face scrunching up before settling into calm contentment. “See? I’ve got the magic touch and the magic cuddle.”

Logan let out a mock scoff, standing back up to his full height as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Alright, alright,” he muttered, though the faint grin tugging at his lips betrayed him. “Guess I’ll let you have this one.”

“You’re too kind,” you teased, swaying gently as Laura’s eyelids fluttered shut again. “But don’t think I didn’t see you hesitate.”

Logan smirked, his hazel eyes warm as he leaned down, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he said, his voice low and full of affection. “I still love you.”

Your heart swelled as Laura nuzzled closer against you, her tiny hand gripping the fabric of your shirt. Logan’s hand came to rest at the small of your back, his thumb brushing slow, soothing circles.

“I think we’re doin’ alright at this parenting thing,” he murmured, his forehead resting against the side of your head.

“Yeah,” you whispered, looking down at the peaceful bundle in your arms. “We’ve got this, Logan.”

Logan let out a soft chuckle, his eyes fixed on you and Laura with a tender expression. “Damn right we do,” he agreed.

 𓂃

Later that night, the two of you sat on the floor of your bedroom, surrounded by scattered pieces of what was supposed to be a crib. The instruction manual lay open between you, creased and smudged, as though it had endured as much frustration as the two of you.

“I’m telling you, this piece goes here,” you said, holding up one of the wooden slats with the confidence of someone who had been wrong twice already.

Logan scoffed, squinting at the manual like it was written in another language. “Darlin’, that ain’t even close to the right piece. Look at the damn diagram.”

You huffed, rolling your eyes. “Logan, I know how to read a diagram. You’re the one who started screwing things in backward.”

“That was one time,” he grumbled, reaching for the screwdriver as if it might magically fix his earlier mistake.

“One time too many,” you shot back, smirking as you handed him the correct piece. “Face it—you’re not as handy as you think you are.”

Logan’s brow furrowed, and he shot you a mock glare, his lips twitching with the faintest hint of a smile. “Keep talkin’, sweetheart. We’ll see who’s laughin’ when this crib doesn’t collapse under her.” He paused, muttering under his breath. “Should’ve just built one from scratch with my own hands.”

“Oh sure,” you quipped, biting back a laugh as you imagined it. “Laura might be in college by the time you finish it.”

Logan shook his head, exhaling sharply through his nose like he was trying to keep from laughing. But the small smirk tugging at his lips gave him away. “Real funny. Keep it up, and I’ll make you do the next one solo.”

“Next one?” you teased, raising an eyebrow. “Let’s survive this one first.”

Finally, after an hour and a half of bickering, laughter, and a few colorful mutterings from Logan, the crib stood fully assembled. The two of you stepped back to admire it, a mix of pride and relief washing over you.

Logan slipped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you against his side. You leaned your head against his chest, smiling at the crib. “We did it,” you murmured softly, pride tinging your voice.

“Damn right we did,” Logan replied, his voice warm and a little smug. “Told ya I could build it.”

You tilted your head up at him, smirking. “Sure, tough guy. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Before Logan could fire back with another quip, Laura let out a soft whimper from the makeshift bassinet you’d borrowed from Jean. Logan immediately moved to scoop her up, cradling her against his chest. She blinked at him, her little face scrunching for a moment, and then… she smiled.

Your breath hitched. “Did she just—”

Logan’s eyes softened as he stared down at her, his tough exterior cracking completely. “Yeah… she did,” he murmured, his voice almost reverent.

You stepped closer, wrapping your arm around Logan as you both gazed at Laura. Her tiny hand reached out, her fingers brushing against yours. “She likes the crib,” you whispered with a laugh, tears prickling in your eyes.

“Or maybe she’s just glad we stopped fightin’ over it,” Logan said, his tone teasing but his smile tender.

You leaned into him, your heart swelling with love for the little family you were building. “Either way,” you said softly, “this is perfect.”

Logan kissed the top of Laura’s head and then yours, his voice low and steady. “Yeah… it is.”

𓂃

“Mrs. Howlett!” one of your students practically yelled, her voice cutting through the quiet hum of the classroom. You paused mid-sentence, marker hovering over the whiteboard, and turned around, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes, Sarah?” you asked, fighting the urge to smile as Laura, strapped to your chest in a carrier, let out a tiny coo. Her big, curious eyes darted over the room full of students, clearly more interested in them than the lesson you were trying to teach.

“Do you have to keep teaching? Me and Jamie really want to hold Laura. Pleeeease?” Sarah begged, her hands clasped together in an exaggerated show of desperation. She even threw in puppy-dog eyes for good measure, which made you chuckle.

You’d warned Logan about this—the students were bound to be curious, not just about Laura, but about everything. Your sudden shift to "Mrs. Howlett" in the past year had set the rumor mill spinning since you’d decided to stop using your maiden name finally. Now, with a baby in tow, their curiosity had skyrocketed. You didn’t mind it, though. You loved bringing Laura to class, and even more, you loved the way your students doted on her.

Still, you sighed playfully, adjusting the baby carrier as Laura babbled softly. “Sarah, for the last time, you can’t just skip lessons to play with Laura.”

Sarah pouted. “But she’s so cute! How are we supposed to concentrate when there’s a literal baby here?”

“How about this,” you said, gesturing toward the question box sitting precariously on your desk, already overflowing with tiny pieces of paper. “You put all your burning questions in the box. At the end of class, I’ll pick four to answer.”

“Mrs. Howlett!” groaned Fiona, a redheaded girl who always managed to speak her mind. “No offense, but you barely ever answer the good ones. Last time, you skipped like ten!”

You bit back a laugh, pretending to be affronted. “I answer plenty! Sometimes your questions are…well, very personal.” You gave a mock glare at the question box, knowing full well there were probably a dozen slips in there asking about your marriage to Logan. Or his claws. Or why he rarely smiled in photos.

Laura let out another soft coo, her tiny hands reaching for nothing in particular. You glanced down at her and smiled. “What do you think, Laura? Should we humor them?”

As if on cue, Laura smiled, her little nose scrunching up in a way that melted your heart. The class collectively “aww’d,” which made you laugh.

“Alright, fine!” you relented, walking to the front of your desk and leaning against it. “Just this once, I’ll answer some questions. But let’s make it quick, okay?”

Hands shot up across the room like fireworks. You scanned the sea of excited faces and pointed to Sarah, whose arm flailed the hardest. “Alright, Sarah. What’s your question?”

Sarah’s face lit up as she glanced between you and Laura. “So…where did Laura come from? I mean, I didn’t see you pregnant or anything.”

The room fell quiet, everyone leaning in, clearly hanging on your answer. You smiled softly, glancing down at Laura before meeting their curious gazes. “Well, Mr. Howlett and I…adopted her. She needed a home, much like some of you did when you first came to the mansion.”

The room was still for a beat, the weight of your words sinking in, until a voice in the back muttered, “Man, I wish you two had adopted me.”

That sent the whole class into laughter, including you. “Oh, trust me,” you said, grinning as you adjusted Laura in her carrier. “Taking care of Mr. Howlett and Laura is already a full-time job.”

“Do you call him ‘Mr. Howlett’ at home?” someone else chimed in, causing a wave of giggles to ripple through the room.

“Absolutely not,” you said with mock horror. “I call him Logan. Or ‘tough guy.’ Or, if he’s being grumpy, ‘big softy.’”

“Grumpy?” Fiona raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Yeah, that checks out.”

“Alright, alright,” you said, laughing as the teasing spiraled. “One more question, and then it’s back to the lesson.”

Another hand shot up, and this time it was Jamie. “Does Mr. Howlett ever hold Laura? Like, is he actually good with babies?”

You couldn’t help but grin at that. “Oh, he’s amazing with her. You should see him—he sings to her, reads her little books…” You trailed off, your heart swelling as you thought about Logan cradling Laura so carefully in his massive arms, his rough hands handling her with a tenderness that never failed to take your breath away.

“Whoa,” Jamie said, clearly stunned. “Mr. Howlett? Singing? That’s…hard to imagine.”

“It’s true!” you said with a laugh. “But don’t tell him I told you. He likes to keep up his ‘tough guy’ image.”

The class dissolved into laughter again, and you couldn’t help but feel grateful for their lightheartedness. For a moment, the weight of everything you and Logan had been through felt a little lighter.

“Alright, enough questions,” you said, clapping your hands. “Let’s get back to—”

Before you could finish, the door to the classroom creaked open, and there stood Logan, his towering frame taking up the doorway, an eyebrow raised as he looked around. Laura perked up immediately, letting out an excited babble.

“Doesn’t sound like anyone is learning in here. All I heard was laughter echoing down the hall,” Logan said in his usual gruff tone, his voice cutting through the chatter as he leaned against the doorframe. The slight twitch at the corner of his mouth gave him away, softening the impact of his words.

“She’s teaching us about Laura!” Sarah defended immediately, her hands thrown in the air like she’d been caught red-handed.

Logan raised a skeptical brow, his arms crossing over his broad chest as he stepped into the classroom. “Yeah? Sounds more like you’re all just nosy.”

The room erupted in laughter, a mix of guilty chuckles and unapologetic grins. Logan made his way to you, his hand finding its way to the small of your back. Laura let out an excited coo from her carrier, tiny hands reaching in the direction of Logan’s voice.

“Alright, which one of you’s been askin’ all the embarrassing questions?” he asked, his gravelly voice layered with mock annoyance, though his hazel eyes gleamed with amusement.

Fiona immediately pointed to Sarah, who gasped in betrayal. “Hey! Everyone’s been asking questions!”

“It’s true,” you admitted with a smirk, leaning slightly into Logan’s side. “You walked in just in time for the chaos.”

“Chaos?” Logan repeated, his lips quirking into a grin as he glanced down at you. “Darlin’ sounds like you’ve lost control of your classroom.”

You nudged him with your elbow, grinning. “I wouldn’t say that. I just know when to pick my battles.”

“She means she gave up,” Sarah chimed in, earning another round of laughter from the class.

Logan snorted, shaking his head. “Sounds about right.” He looked down at Laura, still squirming in her carrier, her little hands stretching toward him. “Alright, kid, what’s all this fuss about?”

“She likes you better,” Fiona blurted out, earning a chorus of agreement from her classmates.

You rolled your eyes, unbuckling the carrier and gently lifting Laura out. “Don’t inflate his ego anymore, guys. It’s already big enough.”

Logan raised a brow, his hands automatically reaching for Laura as you passed her over. She settled into his arms instantly, letting out a contented little sigh that made the entire class melt into a collective “aww.”

“She’s got good taste,” Logan said with a smirk, adjusting her in his arms like a pro. “She knows who the favorite parent is.”

You gasped in mock outrage, placing a hand on your chest. “Excuse me? I’m the one who feeds her and rocks her to sleep at 3 a.m., mister.”

“And I’m the one who changes her diapers,” Logan countered, earning a groan from the students.

“Too much information!” Jamie called from the back, covering his ears dramatically.

Logan chuckled, his rough voice softening as he glanced down at Laura. “Fine, fine. What other questions do you kids have? Let’s get this over with.”

The room practically vibrated with excitement as hands shot into the air. You stifled a laugh, folding your arms as you watched Logan dive into the chaos he claimed to avoid.

“Okay, you,” he said, pointing to Sarah with his free hand. “What’s your question?”

Sarah hesitated for a moment, clearly giddy about being chosen. “Um… is it true you guys are married? Like, actually married?”

Logan raised a brow, glancing over at you. “You wanna take this one, sweetheart?”

You grinned, stepping closer to him. “Yes, Sarah. We’re actually married. It’s not a rumor.”

“Is it weird being married to Mr. Howlett?” Jamie chimed in, clearly emboldened by Sarah’s question.

“Not weird,” you replied with a teasing smile. “But it’s definitely… an adventure.”

“An adventure?” Logan repeated, mock-offended. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You shrugged playfully. “Oh, you know… trying to figure out how to live with someone who’s so grumpy all the time.”

The class erupted into laughter, and Logan shook his head, a faint grin tugging at his lips. “Yeah, well, try livin’ with someone who steals all the covers.”

“Oh my God, Mrs. Howlett, you do that?!” Fiona gasped, clearly scandalized.

“Allegedly,” you said with a laugh. “Next question!”

“Does Laura have powers?” Jamie asked, his tone more curious this time.

Logan glanced down at Laura, his expression softening. “She’s a little young to tell, but… yeah, she’s got somethin’ special.” He looked at you for permission before continuing. “She’s got a gift for healing. Helps with small cuts and bruises, but it’s not somethin’ she controls yet.”

The students murmured among themselves, clearly intrigued.

“So… she’s like a mini-Wolverine?” Jamie asked, grinning.

“More like a mini-angel,” you corrected, smiling as Logan gave you a knowing look.

“Alright, kids,” Logan said, shifting Laura in his arms. “That’s enough questions for today. Let your teacher get back to whatever it was she was supposed to be teachin’.”

The students groaned in protest, but you clapped your hands. “You heard him! Back to work. Logan, you wanna stick around and help teach?”

Logan smirked, already heading for the door with Laura nestled against his chest. “Nah, I’ll leave the teachin’ to you, darlin’. I got my hands full.”

With that, he was gone, leaving you with a classroom full of students buzzing with excitement���and your own heart full of warmth.

[harpsinfinity]

The comfort you bring

Leon kennedy X afab!fem!reader

Genre: smut + fluff

Listen to this while reading:

Can you tell this man has me in a chokehold

Tonight, it was all about you. It'd been a long, tiring day. luckily Leon was at your beck and call 24/7.

He laid you down on the soft sheets so gently, kissed your lips so sweetly as his deep voice whispered praise upon praise in your ears, making your face heat up and your heart throb with affection towards him.

He was determined to fix whatever damage had been done to you. It made his heart ache to see your tear stained cheeks and puffy eyes. He only wanted to see you cry from the pleasure he was giving you. Tonight, that was going to be made reality.

His love for you was so deep, he'd burn the world down if it meant he was able to have you right in his arms. He'd kill whoever he had to, just so he could get to you. He'd keep you protected, loved, and well fucked

Leon began to descend downwards from your lips, which he had kissed nearly to death, making sure every inch of you had been kissed and listening to each soft noise that tumbled from your lips.

Kissing at your collarbone and sliding his hands up and down your sides. Your fingers run though his locks, letting out a pleased sigh when he kisses along your chest. His warm thumbs tweaking your nipples as he pressed his lips to your breasts. You begin to squirm under his touch at the feeling, which was quickly soothed my his mouth.

"c'mon baby, how am I supposed to make you feel good with all your movin' around ?"

Leon had a joking tone in that soft voice. Your face burned red as you mumbled an apology.

He worked his way down your stomach, moving his hands to your hips in a gentle grip. You were unable to not thread your fingers through his soft, blonde locks as he teased your body.

Careful, slow pecks were pinned on your inner thighs, making you emit a low moan in response. You could feel the smile on his lips when he kissed right above your clit, making your hips buck in want.

"Leon please.."

you whine, trying to gently encourage his head to where you wanted him. You were so pent up and slick that you needed him, and you needed him badly.

"whatever you want, angel"

with a huff of amusement, he gives you what you've been yearning for so much. The second he's on your clit it has you moaning and pressing your head to the side against the pillows.

He moves himself further down, his tongue on your entrance with his nose nuzzled against your bundle of nerves. His hands come up and caress your torso before settling to grope and gently paw at your tits.

Your eyelids flutter and your lips stay parted with every sound that tumbles from your lips. Eventually, his hands return to your hips. Pulling your thighs apart more before fully burying his face into your pussy.

The keens that are wrenched from you are music to his ears, travelling it's way straight to the bulge in his pants. He groans at the taste of you, tongue deep and licking inside of you. With a squeal, your thighs push against the strong grip he had against them, surely leaving marks in the shape of his hands. your hips chase the intense bliss that bloomed inside of you so quickly

Your back arches, lifting off the sheets as you cry out his name. A warm coil tightening in your stomach more and more as he worked his mouth on your slick, swollen pussy.

His deep groans vibrated against you, shooting up your spine and making you wail.

"I'm gonna-!"

with rolled back eyes and a scream, you come undone and gush on both his face and the sheets. The pleasure hitting you like a ton of bricks as your body spasmed and shook with each wave you were riding you.

Leon's actions never ceased until you were completely spent and slumping against the bed. Only then did he rise to his knees and hover over you. Kissing you with a fiery passion, you moaned at tasting yourself on his lips.

you sat up, assuming he was done. Yet he pushed you back with a hand on the centre of your chest and said in a low, desire filled voice,

"not done, gotta make you feel better"

After hours, and your brains seeping out of your ears was when you were scooped into his arms and placed in a bath of warm, soapy water shortly after

The rest of the night was filled with hushed praises, kisses and blunt nails scratching at your scalp until you were fast asleep in his protective grasp in one of his shirts that were too big on you. (As you should)

[sh1-n0bu]

♡︎ 𝙗𝙚𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙗𝙖𝙣𝙠’𝙨 𝙙𝙤𝙤𝙧 ♡︎

anon asked: Soo I saw you take requests even for npc's so I figured I'd shoot my shot or whatever though I know you have a lot of asks so if this stresses you out don't worry about it but the fatui pyro agents? The fucker with the fire knives? Yeah that bitch? I firmly belive someone should fuck him till he crys and begs to cum

characters: sub!fatui agent x nb!dom!reader

warnings: overstimulation, orgasm denial, begging, dacryphillia, “master” kink, hair pulling, exhibitionism, degrading, size kink, dumbification, creampie, cock can be interpreted as a strap on!

notes: nobu back in her horny era! on today’s post we have, fucking an npc stupid! repost bc tumblr can’t win against me

how did it come to this? with the strong, reliable, capable agent being railed stupid as his supposed next target keeps his salacious sobs and cries of pleasure silent with their bigger hand, the other holding his leg up. pushing it up further and further into an impossibly hard angle as he claws at the doors of northland bank.

a mewl slips out of his mouth as his target slips their hand off of their mouth, instead opting to keep him up by fisting at his short, grey locks. the tears that were welling in his eyes starts to fall as a drool slips from his lips and down to the floor. legs shaking as his hips weakly, pathetically twitched back to meet up with your thrusts.

“maah-! master! please!! not-noT HEREE MNGGH!♡︎♡︎” biting down on his already bruised and bleeding lips, the agent lets out another sob as he felt his orgasm approaching.

everything felt too much but so little at the same time. he wanted more. more of your cock, more of your cum, more more more!!

the fatuus felt your cock split him open. veiny, long girth breaking him apart as the tip harshly kissed his prostate over and over again. archons, he didn’t even know something like that existed until you forcibly pushed him inside one of the empty rooms of his workplace and had your way with him.

he wanted it, he craved it - no. he needed it.

needed to be fucked by you until his mind breaks, leaving behind nothing but the delicious feeling of your strap forcing him open over and over.

needed to hear you call him degrading names as tears fall from his eyes. sobbing and keening loudly, unable to form any sentences. not even a single plea to save himself and his pride.

needed to trash around as you placed a hand over the bump on his stomach. pushing on the growing bulge of your cock and cum mixed together as he writhes against the wall, sliding down more and more as your large hands on his waist leaves bruises.

needed it as you forced him not to cum again as the strap pours another large amount of cum into his gaping hole. almost falling down to the floor if it wasn’t for your strong arms keeping him up.

needed to beg. whine, wail, keen as you wrap a hand around the angry tip of his cock, placing your thumb over his dripping slit as he begged you in a heap of mess. trying to get the blinding feeling of finally cumming.

“mas-! master!! maste-anngh haah mmph♡︎♡︎!! please? pleasepleasepleaseplease-♡︎♡︎!!” another orgasm denial as you force his smaller body flush against the wall while still continuing to pound into his hole.

the fatuus�� leg shook horribly, standing on his tiptoes as you forced his walls to get used to your size, to remember your shape, to carve every little detail into his mind, into his body. into his prostate.

“you’re not gonna cum haah fuck- until i allow you to. got it, slut?” whispering in a hoarse voice next to his ear, you continued to pound into his sensitive spots. not even caring that the amount of cum you forced him to take dripping down his shaking thighs. some even dripping down to the floor, mixing with his tears and drool.

“yes-! yes master! master! master! my master♡︎���︎♡︎!!” drunkenly blabbering about some random gibberish, the agent let out another whine as your seeds filled him up again. the skin of his stomach stretching more and more as if his body craved your cum.

finally feeling satisfied with how much you filled him up, you stood up straight to look at the beautiful art you created out of him.

trembling body flush against the wall as his hands desperately clawed at the stone, legs barely holding himself up only thanks to your help. large amount of cum gushing and slipping out from around your strap, dripping down, staining the perfect, wooden floor of the bank.

what a perfect toy you found for yourself.

slipping yourself out, you ignored his babbles about sex drunken shit before pulling out a toy from your bag - a butplug.

fingering the cum back into his fluttering hole, you plugged him close with the toy. a lewd shlick! coming out followed by the agent’s sobs.

“keep them all inside until our next meeting okay, my slut?” giving a warning squeeze to his still shaking thighs, a cruel grin spread across your face as he nodded dumbly.

maybe you should do this to him more often.

[raekensluver]

ᴅᴀʏ 𝟷𝟶 — ᴅᴀᴄʀʏᴘʜɪʟɪᴀ

october 19th | patrick zwieg x fem!reader

contains: nsfw 18+, no use of y/n, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, porn without plot.

word count: 1.1k

kinktober masterlist | main masterlist

"oh, baby, you're so sensitive," patrick murmured, his eyes dark with desire as he traced the path of your tears with his thumb. his hand was firm on the back of your neck, guiding you closer to him as your body quivered with every tender caress. the room was dimly lit, the curtains drawn to keep the prying eyes of the dorm hall at bay. the only sound was the rhythmic sigh of the ceiling fan, the perfect white noise to mask the soft noises that filled the space.

you were naked, sprawled on your back, the pillow beneath you wet with the salty trails of your sorrow. patrick hovered above, his body a masterpiece of masculine beauty. his broad chest was slick with sweat, and his cock, thick and pulsing, pointed straight at your quivering mouth. his eyes searched yours, seeking the delicious blend of fear and excitement that always accompanied your tears. "you're so beautiful when you cry," he whispered, his voice low and seductive.

his free hand roamed over your trembling form, pausing at your breasts to tweak the hardened nipples. you gasped, the sensation shooting straight to your core, making you wetter, making you want more. "please," you whimpered, not sure if you were asking for mercy or for him to never stop. he smirked, knowing full well the power he held over you in this moment. his thumb found your clit, circling it gently as his fingers slid inside you, filling you up in a way that made you feel both whole and utterly vulnerable.

your body responded in kind, your hips bucking against his hand as you squirmed and clawed at the bedsheets. the fabric was smooth against your skin, the perfect contrast to the roughness of his touch. your nails dug into the material, leaving little half-moons as you tried to find purchase, as if you could hold onto the pleasure and keep it from slipping away. your breath hitched as he picked up the pace, his eyes never leaving yours.

"fuck, patrick," you sobbed, your voice high-pitched and needy. "fuck me, please." your plea was raw, desperate. it was the sound of someone on the edge, yearning for release. and patrick, ever the sadist, knew just how to push you over that edge. his hand worked you mercilessly, his thumb pressing down on your clit in a way that made your eyes roll back in your head. you could feel yourself getting closer, your cries growing louder, your breath coming in ragged gasps.

then, without warning, he leaned forward, capturing your mouth in a searing kiss. his tongue delved into your mouth, tasting the salt of your tears. the sensation of his tongue sliding over your bottom lip made your heart race even faster, if that was possible. his kiss was demanding, almost bruising, his teeth scraping against your lower lip as he devoured your sobs. his hand didn't stop moving, his fingers pumping in and out of you with a steady rhythm that had your hips rising off the bed to meet him. the kiss grew wetter, more passionate, as your tears fell onto his chest. he broke away, his eyes gleaming as he licked the salty trails from your cheeks, savoring them like a fine wine.

you whined for him, your voice high and keening. your nails dug into his arms, leaving little trails of red in their wake. "please, more," you begged, the words tumbling from your mouth in a desperate rush. your breasts heaved with every shuddering breath, the pink tips of your nipples begging for attention. he chuckled darkly, the sound sending a thrill through your body. "more?" he asked, his thumb pressing down harder on your clit. you arched off the bed, a keening wail escaping your throat as the pleasure spiked. "yes, yes, please," you chanted, the words falling from your lips like a mantra.

his hand grew rougher, his fingers plunging into you with a force that bordered on pain. you could feel your body tightening, coiling like a spring. your tears fell in a steady stream now, tracing the contours of your flushed face. patrick leaned in, his breath hot on your skin as he whispered, "you love this, don't you?" his voice was a gentle caress, a stark contrast to the harshness of his touch. you nodded frantically, unable to form words as your body was pushed closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy. your whimpers grew louder, your sobs more pronounced.

"tell me, baby," he demanded, his voice a dark purr. "tell me how much you love it when i make you cry." you managed to force the words out, your voice cracking with passion. "i love it, patrick. i love it so much." the admission sent a thrill through him, his cock growing even harder. he knew he had you right where he wanted you, a willing participant in his twisted game of pleasure and pain.

his hand moved faster, his thumb working in tight, precise circles around your clit. your body tensed, muscles tightening around his fingers as you approached the climax he was crafting so carefully. every stroke was calculated, every touch designed to send you spiraling. your nails raked down his back, leaving a trail of red that mingled with the sweat that beaded there. his breathing grew heavier, his own arousal mounting as he watched your reactions, the way your body responded to his expert touch.

you could feel the pressure building inside of you, a storm of sensation that threatened to shatter you into a million pieces. your eyes squeezed shut, your head thrown back as your mouth opened in a silent scream. "please," you begged, the word lost in the symphony of your moans. "i need it, patrick. i need to come." your voice was a desperate plea, a whipped animal's cry for mercy.

his hand didn't relent, his movements only growing more intense as he watched your body's desperate dance. "you're so close," he murmured, his breath hot on your neck. "i can feel it, baby. come for me. let go." and with those words, you did. your orgasm crashed over you like a wave, stealing your breath and leaving you trembling in its wake. your body spasmed around his fingers, a tight, wet embrace that made him groan. your eyes snapped open to see his expression, a mix of triumph and hunger that sent a fresh jolt of arousal through you.

then, with a smug look, patrick wiped away your tears with his thumb. the gentle gesture was almost tender, a stark contrast to the harshness of his earlier touch. his eyes held yours as he did it, his expression unreadable. was it affection? pride? something darker? you couldn't tell. all you knew was that it made you want him even more. "good girl," he said, his voice a low rumble that seemed to vibrate through your very core. "so beautiful."

kintober taglist: @multi-fandom-imagine, @imamexican, @majaduzejaja, @moony-artemis, @emma-e-a, @agoodgirlsguidetomakingmencry @indigoangel77, @froyofreya, @weirdothatwritess @dale-kobbles-wife @mattheoriddles-slutt

[tteokdoroki]

hi my beloved angel could i pls request shinsou + ❛ you keep your hands where they are or i'll tie them up. ❜ :33

☆༉ — HITOSHI SHINSOU: 0-800-HOT GUY-HOTLINE.

line. ❛ you keep your hands where they are or i'll tie them up. ❜

extension. edging kink + fem!reader + nsfw.

things to note. for you my baby!! i hope u like heeem n that i characterised him well!!

it’s not your fault, really. 

usually you’re so obedient and good when it comes to hitoshi — he takes care of your needs as long as you behave and listen to him. with him, you cum as many times as you want, cry as loud as you want and your boyfriend will always make sure that you’re satisfied by the end. you’re spoiled in a sense. but today, shinsou seems keen on undoing that narrative. 

you’ve lost count of how many hours he’s been going at this, fucking just the tip of his girth into you at a painstakingly slow rate — you’ve tried everything, throwing it back on him, your usual whining, even grovelling, but the hero won’t budge. each time, he runs a hand down your spine affectionately and cherishes the way that your whole body shivers at the contact — only whispering a short.

“be patient, angel,” he says in that low, commanding voice of his. “don’t you wanna be good for me?” 

and of course you do, you love hitoshi so much and he treats you so well. it’d only be right for you to trust him, let him abuse your runny little hole with the the fat, achingly hot tip of his dick until he’s the one that’s satisfied. he pushes his hips forward, only just, breaching your gushing walls with hardly any resistance because you’re so wet from being teased but being spoiled all the time breeds bad habits and keeping you on the very edge of cumming like this. 

secretively, you slip one of your hands between your salt-slicked body and the bed sheets hitoshi has you bent over, brushing over your rock hard nipples and the sensitive spots along your pelvis before you’re able to reach your puffy pussy. it’s hard to keep quiet when you’re finally able to graze your the poor, unattended nub tucked between your slick folds — drawing lazy shapes over it just like hitoshi would do for you. you attempt to choke down a delicate whimper, stuffing your teary face into the cotton to muffle the louder sounds that start to escape you. 

“you sound so needy,” hitoshi breathes, placing a large hand on the small of your back to deepen your arch from behind. he rewards you, for sounding so pretty, he really can’t help it either — giving into his habit as he fucks you halfway down to his twitching length, his arousal bleeding rip nestled just inches shy from your gummy g-spot. “being so good ‘n patient, angel. love it when you’re like this. all pliant and desperate for some cock.” 

you wail in reply, writhing and wriggling for more — only to be forced into pleasuring yourself, pinching and rubbing at your clit in tune with shinsou’s shallow thrusts past your rippling entrance. he soothes you, rubbing circles into your hip dips as he whispers little praises like “just a little longer. “you’re doing so well for me sweetheart.” “i can’t wait until i get to fill you up.” 

that is until he feels your sly little hand brush against this muscular inner thigh, while you attempt to get yourself off. one moment, you’re on the verge of finally hitting release, the next, all of that mounting and heavenly pleasure is ripped away from you by hitoshi’s discovery.

“toshi!” you snivel desperately, trying to appeal to his gentler side when he pulls out of you completely — exposing your hot cunt to cool air as you pulse around nothing. “p-please, please ‘m sorry!” 

he sucks his teeth, three fingers coming down harsh on your sopping mound which causes you to jolt forward on the bed in suprise. “oh, I don’t think you are.”  he seethes cruelly, throwing his weight over your trembling body while he licks a wet trail up and behind your ear. “if you were, you wouldn’t be trying to fuck yourself while i’m spoiling you with my cock.” 

okay, so maybe it is your fault. 

shaking your head, you try to wriggle away — your hips running from the sudden and relentless pressure shinsou applies to your greedy clit from behind. “i p-promise! i am, ‘m so sorry. hnngh, ‘toshi ‘m gonna cum! t-too fast!” 

“don’t care.” the purple haired hero grunts, only speeding up. “you wanted to cum so bad? instead of being a good girl and waiting for me?” nipping at your earlobe, shinsou chuckles coyly and smacks a hand down on your pussy again. “now you’re complaining about it being too fast? well too fucking bad. you get what you give, angel.” 

shinsou’s threat should scare you, but it only serves to turn you on even more — clear streams of your arousal painting his thick fingers against your heat like a sugar glaze. 

“d-do it, i dare you.” you manage to bleat out, challenging him. 

the laugh your boyfriend lets out is both cold and amused, overlapped by the squelch of your princess cunt as he replaces what used to be his heavy cock with his fingers inside of you. curling them straight away. 

“challenge accepted, sweetheart.” shinsou grins, pumping in and out of you so fast you hardly realise that you’ve hit your first orgasm until it’s too late — squirting about the place and soaking the sheets. “but this time, you keep your hands where they are or i'll tie them up.”

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[panties-on-boys]

kensy’s (smutty) synonym bible

tw: nsfw

hi there <3

i often find myself googling synonym for despite uhhh knowing words (i promise) so i decided to make a cheat sheet masterlist for my little goldfish brain. might as well post it

most commonly i google dialogue tags so let’s start with that

smutty dialogue tags

says hisses keens croons seethes sighs

gasps bites out grits out keys out spits

growls snarls cries spits drawls slurs

moans groans grunts huffs babbles

praises purrs soothes coos giggles lulls

thanks wails whimpers whines breathes

stammers stutters squeaks lilts whispers

teases mocks begs challenges pleads

snaps orders commands demands tells

descriptors for:

general touch

ghost (across/over/against) caress skirt

drag grab pull push clutch grip

hold knead tease roll (over) rock (against)

skim press nudge bump (together)

play with smooth (over) ride (over, down)

trace track graze thumb tease toy with

handjobs

the giver

squeeze pulse drag stroke slick wet

messy sloppy tight hot circle of (their) hand

glide strip (over) twist palm

the recipient

buck lift (their) hips roll rock thrust cant

fuck twitch tick jump (hips) kick hump

blowjobs

spit drool choke gag suck pull swallow

slurp heat of (their) mouth back of (their) throat

track (a vein, the underside of the dick, whatever)

drip lave lick tongue flick slack (jaw)

fuck facefuck throatfuck

prep (i write anal lol but do whatever)

slip slide press push wiggle (in) open up

work open ease open ease inside

about the fingers

crook scissor apart/together search (iykyk ;))

hook pump (in and out) thrust finger

seek roll press against angle curl

adding more

slides in a second finger/digit/next to the first

pulls (their) finger out and reenters, twice as thick

works/eases/opens up to two/three/etc

note: the prostate is a hook down in doggy style and a hook up in missionary, similarly to the g-spot (i google this shit all the time LOOOOL)

kissing

lips lock lips meet lips join press together

slick slide of hot wet needy open-mouthed

lips part pant/moan/dialogue into (their) mouth

swallows a moan from (their) partner’s kiss

bite/suck the lower lip lick suck taste pull

french licks the back of (their) partner’s teeth

licks/laps/laves into (their) partner’s mouth

x into their kiss (ex. whine, sigh whatever)

x a kiss to…/x kisses to…

press drop touch stamp pepper litter

smack place push pin tack feather

lay scatter sprinkle spot leave

teeth

grit clench grind tight teeth/fangs/canines

set (their) jaw

sharp

fangs canines pierce sink (bite) red with…

anteriors (front six teeth canine to canine, top and bottom)

dogtooth incisors upper/lower bloodied

six neat holes in a half-moon

general

ivories teeth bite dentition white straight

crooked braced aligned misaligned

the act of biting

sink teeth into clamp down on pierce drag

tear into nibble nip clip with (their) teeth

clip teeth together

breathing

breath hitch sigh huff breathe hiss puff

seethe exhale inhale pant gasp purr

pulls/takes/sucks in a breath breath steals out

punched-out fucked-out clipped (sigh)

desperation

needy keening crying begging pleading

aching throbbing pulsing hammering

dizzy (with want/need/blood loss (hi poolverine))

eager shameless pitiful pathetic hungry

dying to yearning for so bad/much lawless

colors

red

rouge crimson flush blush cherry cerise

ruby scarlet flame redden/get redder

rose wine angry ruddy full-blooded bloody

pink

flush blush tulip bloom rosy french pink

baby pink pastel pink florid peachy

blue

gunmetal steel blue cerulean mirror blue

ice cold pale sky indigo ocean

brown

tawny taupe amber auburn chocolate

tan leather

green

olive jade emerald forest grass

lashes

flutter flit bat puppy eyes skip

lashes flutter through a roll of (their) eyes

figures

smooth expanse of (back, stomach)

silky line of (back, whatever) arch bow

tense pull tight relax slack go limp

cords of (their) thighs burn (good for missionary)

tan dark contrast sleek curve

i’ll add to this :) bye tumblr

[trashogram]

Hiya! Can I please request a threesome w Lilith, Lucifer and Fem reader for kinktober? Sorry if it's not doable and thank you in advance!

Kinktober Day Thirty — Threesome

Warnings: F!Reader, Cunnilingus, Opening a Marriage, Sex for Conception

You’d agreed to carry for the couple, but you hadn’t anticipated enjoying yourself quite as much as you did.

Your expectation involved one of two things: either Lucifer would miraculously implant Lilith’s egg and his sperm inside of you without making actual physical contact… or you would have to endure a clinical sexual experience with the King of Hell and avoid Lilith’s gaze for weeks afterward.

Instead, the Queen had taken your hand in hers and guided you to their marital bed with an excited little smile. Lucifer was left to trail after the both of you like a puppy fraught with nervous energy.

He had stayed present just to watch Lilith render you into a pitiful, mewling mess of heated skin and shaking limbs. Lucifer’s wife shared with you his misfortune — that he wasn’t allowed to participate until Lilith had gotten you good and ready. It was like a little secret, shared between the soft smacking of lips together and your endless yarn of moans.

Your entire body was bright, touched by starlight and mixed with the scent of lilacs as you started to combust for the fourth time. Lilith held your hand in hers, fingers entwined as she enticed another climax from your swollen pussy with her tongue.

It brought tears to your eyes when she relented, just to press a reverent kiss to the top of your mound. Her kisses snaked up from between your thighs to your soft belly, jasmine hair flowing across your trembling legs and bruised hips as she went.

The “Please” that sprung up amidst your panting and whimpering couldn’t have come from either you or Lilith. Your heads turned to see Lucifer, vibrating where he sat with a tent in his trousers.

Lilith grinned when you couldn’t hold in your giggles and hid your face in the curtain of her hair.

“Would you like him to join us?” She asked, directing you to look at her with a loving caress of your cheek.

Perhaps you were a soft-hearted fool, but with another glance at the King in his discomfort, you couldn’t help but feel sorry.

“Only if you stay.” You whispered, tentatively lifting your hand to cup one of her breasts.

Lilith cooed, pressing a kiss to your forehead before she beckoned Lucifer over.

“Come give our darling a baby, Luci.” She commanded, full lips twitching to suppress a smile as Lucifer hopped onto the bed.

You laughed heartily at the bounce, tickled by his enthusiasm. Lucifer reached for both of you, grasping your free hand and holding onto Lilith’s leg, squeezing you both as if to make sure you were both truly real and there.

“Oh!” You blinked, realizing Lucifer was just as bare as you and Lilith inexplicably.

His cock looked so swollen, head leaking until a trail of precum had slid down the shaft. Charitably, you took him in hand and stroked with your already damp palm and fingers.

It ripped a full-body shudder from Lucifer, his cry echoing in the generously-sized bedroom. Lilith steadied him by the shoulders, half-lidded eyes traveling from his wracked frame to you.

“Not yet.” She admonished, light and airy as she moved Lucifer by the hips and slotted him between your legs. “All good things come to those who wait, my Loves.”

Drowsy and dreamy as you were by the exhaustive orgasms, you still keened when Lucifer filled you up. He didn’t waste a moment, claws stabbing through the soft mattress as he rocked into you. Your back arched despite the soreness laced throughout your muscles, head tilting back and getting lost in the twisted sheets and endless pillows.

Lilith pulled you out of the fabric sea and up to her chest, letting you nuzzle into her bosom and wail against her sternum. Her heart was fluttering behind her soft purple skin, so close to your searching lips, though her fingers ran through your hair invariably.

It took her by surprise when your hand curled over her asscheek, fingers dipping into her own wet sex.

You looked at her with big liquid eyes when she pulled you back. “I wanna make you feel good too. Please?”

Her tongue peeked through her lips, wetting them as she held your gaze for a moment.

Lilith nodded with another soft little smile, following your lead as you pulled her leg. It swung over you gracefully, with Lilith coasting over your figure until her dripping cunt was lined up with your mouth.

The stifled squeak she made as she sat down on your waiting tongue was barely audible in the cacophony of Lucifer’s growls and whimpers.

[eunsuri]

Eternity

Pairing: Solas x Lavellan

Summary: In the final battle with the false gods, Solas must make an impossible choice.

Word Count: 2,443

Warnings: ANGST. Followed by some real sweetness to heal our Solavellan pain.

A/N: Hey everyone! It's been a hot minute since I've posted or even done any writing, but all the Veilguard hype and replaying the Dragon Age games has inspired my poor Solavellan heart. Hope you enjoy it and let me know your thoughts! Also posted on AO3!

“Solas!”

It had all happened so quickly.

The world seemed like a fractured dream—shadows and light bleeding together, the edges of reality blurring into something unrecognisable. Hues of blue, purple, and red painted the sky. The sounds of battle—screams, the clash of steel, the roar of ancient magic and blighted gods—melted into a single, indistinct hum, as if the world itself had begun to unravel.

Solas’ Dread Wolf form was quickly fading, returning to his battered Elven body. Pain throbbed in his every limb, a dull, relentless ache that clouded his thoughts and blurred his senses. 

He tried to focus, to grasp onto something solid, but the ground beneath his feet slipped like sand, shifting and unstable. It was Lavellan’s voice, raw with emotion, that anchored him, drawing him back from the brink of unconsciousness. His racing heart thudded in his ears, eyes searching for the source of Lavellan’s cry, as fear gripped his very being at the thought of her laying broken and defenceless in the chaos. 

Thunder continued to roll while lightning cracked through angry clouds over the twisted form of the ancient elven goddess, Ghilan'nain. The Mother of the Halla, and huntress of the People, was now a twisted abomination of decay and rage. Her shriek tore through the Veilguard ranks, a cry born of millennia of rage and betrayal, a keening wail that echoed with the fury of a goddess locked away for centuries. 

Then, through a fog of pain and confusion, Solas saw Ghilan'nain’s blazing red eyes seeking out the Dread Wolf, her corrupted form rising above the fray and ready to strike. Before he could even register the danger, before he could summon the strength to call out to Lavellan, a flash of blue crystals sped into his vision. 

It was Lavellan. The lyrium dagger clutched in her hand, armour shattered and boots worn out, the scent of muddied blood from her injured leg mingling with the air, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Yet, despite the pain and exhaustion etched into her every movement, her eyes burned with an unyielding fire, a fierce resolve to protect the one she loved.

Without a second thought, she leapt forward, her body moving of its own accord, driven by a love that eclipsed all fear. The impact was immediate, the force of the blow reverberating through her as she intercepted the strike meant for Solas, driving the lyrium dagger through Ghilan'nain’s heart. Pain lanced through Lavellan, white-hot and unforgiving, unlike anything she had ever felt before.

“No!” Anguish tore through Solas, his cry shattered the battlefield, raw and filled with terror at the sight of her figure flying across the battlefield.

He didn’t know how he had managed to gather the strength to stand once more, but in an instant, he was at her side. The battle faded into a ghostly echo as his world narrowed to the broken form in his arms. The ground beneath them was cold and unyielding, but it was the chill in her fading pulse that froze his racing heart. Her breath, once steady and strong, came now in ragged, shallow gasps, a desperate struggle against the darkness closing in.

“Vhenan…” Her voice came as a laboured, broken whisper. 

The scent of iron and death hung heavy in the air, the distant screams of the battle barely registering in Solas' mind as he frantically hovered his hands over her wounds, his bloodied fingers trembling with the urgency of his magic. But the damage was too great, the energy she had taken was meant to kill, to obliterate. Hot crimson blood seeped through the cracks in her armour, staining the cold stone beneath her. The warmth of it clung to Solas' skin, a stark contrast to the creeping numbness that threatened to consume him whole.

He found himself unable to muster a single word in response to her, the weight of his despair crushing him. He could feel the ancient magic flowing within his veins, yet every spell he cast faltered against the reality of her mortality. Each pulse of energy he sent into her only slipped through his grasp, her life ebbing away like water through his fingers, her fading breath a cruel reminder of his powerlessness.

For the first time in millenia, Solas felt truly, utterly powerless. The gravity of his failure thrust down on him, sharper than any blade, heavier than the mountains he had once shaped. He had experienced many failures, disrupted rituals, and power drunk magisters. Yet the pride and determination that would fuel him through these failures could not fill the gaping void that failing his love would leave inside him.

Since the Veil’s creation and his awakening from Uthenera, Solas had borne witness to countless lives slipping away, each loss a distant echo in the vast expanse of time. He had watched countless lives flicker and fade, each loss stoking the embers of his desperation to restore his People’s immortality. But this—this was different. 

He had convinced himself that the price he would pay was justified, a necessary sacrifice for the future he sought to reclaim. This world and its people, fleeting and fragile, would have to perish in order to restore his own, to undo the grievous mistake he had made. He had always known that losing this world would mean losing her, that her mortality was inescapable—especially with the Anchor’s relentless power surging through her veins, marking her as temporary. He had hoped that by severing their bond and leaving the Inquisition, he could sever his attachment to her as well. Yet, even as he watched over her each night in the Fade, anticipating the loss of his love, nothing could have truly prepared him for the agony of this moment.

The pain that seared through him now was unlike any he had ever known, sharp and relentless, cutting deeper than all the centuries of loss combined. He had thought himself prepared, had steeled his heart against the inevitability of her mortality, but as he looked at Lavellan, broken and bleeding before him, he realised with a shattering clarity that he could not—would not—live in a world without her. The thought of truly losing her was a wound that would never heal, a chasm of despair that would swallow him whole for eternity.

Memories, vivid and bittersweet, flooded Solas’ mind. He remembered the first time he had seen her, the feeling of her marked hand clutched in his as he guided her to close the gaping rift. He recalled the stolen moments of quiet between battles, where they had shared dreams of a life beyond the chaos once the battle with Corypheus would end, her laughter a balm to his soul. The nights she would seek him out in dreams, or sneak into his tent, where she would lay against his chest while he read books or told stories of his dreams in the Fade. The feeling of her bare skin beneath his fingertips, the softness of her lips against his, lingering like the delicate petals of a blooming flower. Their magic intertwining, flowing through them like a gentle current, binding them together in a harmony that felt as eternal as the stars.

Moments in which the crushing realisation dawned on him—that she could sway his mind to find another way, that the world he sought to restore could be returned without the destruction he once deemed necessary, that everything and everyone he had fought so hard alongside could be real, not just a dream of the past.

But now, those memories twisted like a knife in his heart, the sweetness of each moment laced with the bitter sting of loss. Without her, those moments would remain nothing but a memory that would haunt him for eternity.

“Please,” he whispered, though he wasn’t sure to whom he was begging, his voice a plea to the empty skies. 

The thought of truly losing her now was unbearable, a pain he could scarcely endure. For him, she had endured unimaginable suffering—the searing torment of the mark that claimed her arm, the heartbreak when he severed their bond, and the endless nights spent in relentless pursuit of him, only to stand between him and the final, fatal blow. He could not let her die, not after all she had sacrificed for him.

Solas wracked his brain for solutions, continuing to frantically attempt to heal her and keep her conscious. His vision was blurred with the rivers of tears streaming down his skin, the fierce hand of desperation gripping itself around his throat. She was fading, her weakened life force flickering like a waning candle, its flame struggling to cling to the charred wick, desperately resisting the darkness closing in.

Then, in the depths of his despair, a single option took root—a desperate, impossible choice. There was one thing he could do, one last act that could save her. But it would cost him everything. His heart thudded against his chest heavily with the weight of the decision, the ancient power within him pulsing like a living thing, reminding him of all that he was about to lose. Immortality. His essence. The very fabric of his being.

But what was immortality without her? What was all of his power worth if it could not protect the one person who had come to mean more to him than anything in this world or the next?

His resolve solidified, born of a love so deep it defied all reason. He could not imagine a world without her—without her laughter, her touch, the warmth of her presence beside him. His pride and desire to mend his past errors would not stand in his way again. And so, with a heart full of love and a mind clear of doubt, he cast his pride into the depths of the abyss, where it would be lost to the shadows of his past, and embraced the decision he would have to make.

Solas placed his hand, now strong and steady, over her heart. His eyes glowed with an ethereal blue light that seemed to pierce the very fabric of reality, a stormy flash of magic emitting from his palms. 

He could feel it—the life force that had sustained him for centuries, ancient and vast, now flowing out of his being and into her. It was like tearing a piece of his soul away, a pain so profound it threatened to break him, but he did not falter. He would give her everything if it meant she would live. 

As the celestial light enveloped her, knitting her wounds and restoring her strength, Solas felt his own power wane. His once-immortal form grew weaker, the essence that had defined  him slipping away. But with it, the burden of centuries lifted, replaced by a calm acceptance. He had chosen this—chosen her—and in that choice, he found peace.

Lavellan gasped as warmth surged through her, revitalising her strength, but with it came the unsettling realisation of what he was doing. “Solas, stop,” she protested, her voice growing stronger even as his weakened. She attempted to push him away, her hand trembling against his chest, but he drew her closer, gently lowering his forehead to hers, the gesture silencing her pleas.

“I will not lose you, Vhenan,” he breathed, his voice heavy with resolve as his ancient power flowed into her, binding them both to a mortal life.

Though Solas would remain formidable, he willingly embraced the fragility of mortality, finding solace in the certainty that they would face the years together, no matter how fleeting they may seem. 

The engulfing light dimmed, leaving them in a hushed silence. With a newfound strength, Lavellan lifted herself upright, pausing to drink in the sight of the Dread Wolf, now a mortal man. His eyes, no longer glowing with ancient power, were filled with a quiet love and deep relief, the tension that had once gripped him now replaced by a serene acceptance of his mortality. She could see the peace in his expression, the contentment that came with knowing he had chosen this—chosen her—and this world. 

A wave of relief washed over her being, drawing her worries back into its current, and allowing the peace she had sought for a decade to finally grace her. Though it pained her to see him sacrifice such an intrinsic part of who he was, she felt a deep sense of gratitude knowing she had changed his heart away from the destruction of this world.

Solas reached forward, delicately brushing his fingers over her mended cheek. Her eyes glistened with life and unshed tears welled along her eyelashes, captivating him as they always had. She released a breath she didn’t realise she’d been holding in, and lunged herself into his embrace. 

Her arm twined around his neck, clutching the fabric on his back as a quiet sob shuddered through her lungs. “Ma serannas, Ma’lath. Thank you. Thank you,” she whispered between breaths, tears trickling down his throat and soaking through his clothing.

He held her tightly against him, as though she might vanish if he loosened his grasp. The warmth of her presence, so long absent, was a salve to his aching soul. For a decade, he had watched her from afar, his dreams haunted by the memory of her touch. Now, finally enfolded in her embrace, he marvelled at the tangible reality of what he had yearned for so deeply. Each trembling breath she took, each tear that fell, was a testament to the long-suffered separation and the profound relief of being truly reunited.

“I’ve lived through many lifetimes, yet without you, it is all empty, lost,” Solas confessed, his voice a low murmur against her hair. “Now, I see a new path forward.”

She pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, her hand gently tracing up to his face. Her voice was soft, yet firm with conviction, as though speaking the very truth of her soul. “And we will face it together,” she vowed, wiping her thumb across his cheek as her teary eyes searched his. “Var lath vir suledin.” The words trembled on her lips—ancient, yet timeless.

“Yes, Vhenan.” This time, he believed her. “Our love will endure. Always.”

Though the blighted false gods had been freed from their eternal prison, and the battle was now won, the task of rebuilding the world lay ahead. Together, they would forge a new path to save their people—one devoid of further death and destruction.

For now, they were alive, together, but irrevocably changed—two souls who had sacrificed everything for each other. 

Their love had endured, and would continue to endure for centuries to come.

[thehypnone]

could we maybe get subby whiny mounty? i’ll leave it up to you who would be the dom🤭

i had to make it swissalps... i am who i am and they're like disgustingly in love ya know

650 words, transmasc mountain in heat, breeding

Swiss wasn’t surprised when he was woken up by his mate whining, pawing at him greedily and humping his thigh sloppily. He could smell it on him for the last three days and he would not lie and say he wasn’t delighted about the fact that Mountain’s heat finally hit him. They were on their first round of many that day and the earth ghoul was just precious.

“So good for me, my love,” Swiss whispered into his ear, nipping at the lobe gently. “Taking me so well.”

The earth ghoul whined loudly, clenching around Swiss’ cock like a vice and digging his claws into his back. He grunted at the tight fit of his mate’s cunt and rolled his hips again, pulling another high pitched noise out of him. “Please, please, my darling, I n– need you.”

“You’ve got me,” the multi ghoul chuckled. Oh, how he loved when Mountain got like this. All whiny and fuzzy headed, crying for Swiss’ touch. It was fun torturing him like that—sometimes—but Swiss enjoyed making love to him in such a state even more. “Always. You’ve got me, baby, I’m all yours.”

“N– need more,” Mountain whimpered. He wiggled and squeezed his legs around Swiss’ waist, trying to get him impossibly deeper. As if he wasn't balls deep inside him already. 

“Oh, I know, I know,” the other cooed before snapping his hips, making Mountain cry out as his mouth hung open. “You need all of me, yeah, love?”

“Yeah, fuck, please.” The earth ghoul tightened his legs and arms where they were absolutely wrapped around Swiss, clinging onto him for dear life. “Fill me up, gimme all of it.”

Another sharper thrust and it was Swiss’ turn to let out a debauched noise. “I will, my love. I will.”

Mountain cried out again and Swiss pulled one hand away from him, only to drag it down to the place they were joined. It was so fucking wet. The multi ghoul said as much. “Like a damn water ghoul. Fuck, that’s so hot, baby, perfect for me.”

“D– darling, please,” Mountain begged. Babbled would be a better word. Drooling out strings of incoherent pleas as Swiss pistoned in and out of his dripping cunt.

“Right there, my love,” he grunted and dragged his fingers through some of the slick drooling out of his mate. He pressed against his little cock, jutting out hard and flushed, and Mountain wailed. “There we go.”

“F– fuck, I n– need it.”

“Right there,” Swiss repeated and he meant it, feeling his first orgasm of the night approaching rapidly. It was time for him to absolutely lose his mind, too. “I’ll fill you up so good, I promise, again and again. I’ll get you stuck on my knot and wait ‘til you catch. Fuck, I wanna see your cute little belly swell with my kits, yeah?”

Mountain moaned and whimpered, his claws finally piercing the skin on Swiss’ back, as the multi ghoul thrusted sharply a few more times, simultaneously rubbing his mate’s clit. “My heart, please, shit, fill me up, I need it, I need it, I–”

“Come with me, my love,” Swiss groaned breathlessly and shoved himself into Mountain’s cunt as deep as he’d go, spilling inside with a shudder. The earth ghoul keened, all wrecked, and clenched around the other tightly, his own white hot orgasm washing over him.

He must’ve blacked out for a second. Suddenly Swiss was sprawled out on top of him, purring happily with his face in Mountain’s neck as he muttered softly, “So good, my love. My good boy. My perfect mate, so, so good for me.”

This was only the beginning of the earth ghoul’s heat, the painful need would hit him again soon, but for now he didn’t mind listening to the quiet praises spilling from his mate’s lips.

[macabr3-barbi3]

Hello sweet summer child v( ͡° ᴥ ͡°)*

I love your work! I've come to yur account from a post I saw about Hazbin Hotel writers, and I love the dream story so much and powered through your archive of our own account in two days!!

If it's not too much to ask: Would you write a story with a reader and alastor, having anal sex? ԅ(≖‿≖ԅ) I just never see that in alastor fanfics, and I am so curious to see something written well and in character for him~ you seem perfect for the task!

Anyway, I just wanted to say thank you for keep me from sleeping and tell you that I really enjoy the things you write!

I'M SO SLOW I'M SO SORRY

this anon has been patiently waiting pretty much since I opened my requests 😭 I hope this smutty lil piece was worth the wait! I'm so glad you enjoy my writing and I hope I can keep turning out lovely little bits to keep you awake xD

CW: anal sex, that's pretty much the whole thing lmao

Alastor was not normally one to try new things. You knew this- and it made you appreciate the things that he did try with you even more.

You were on your hands and knees before him, face shoved deep into one of the soft pillows of his bed while he worked a toy in and out of your ass, the rim of it stretched and pleasantly sore from how long he had been at it, gradually sizing up from his fingers to something wider that would actually get you ready. Alastor kept the lube flowing generously, so much that the slide of the toy was near frictionless, pressing in deep before slowly pulling back out. His breathing is steady and even as he prepares you to take his cock, the thumb of his other hand lazily caressing your clit and making you clench around nothing.

“A-Alastor, please,” you beg, words muffled in the pillow. “I’m ready, please…”

“Ready for what, dearest?” He asks lowly, and lets a finger slide into your cunt, pressing insistently at that sweet, spongy spot inside of you that made you keen and cry out. “How am I meant to assist if you won’t tell me what you want?”

“Fuck me,” you moan, head turned to the side to make sure that he could hear you. “I can take it, please,” and you press your luck by pushing your hips back towards him just to really sell the message.

He hums in his throat, both the toy and finger inside of you sliding free as he repositions out of your line of sight, rewarded at last with the feeling of his erection pressed against your twitching hole, hot and hard and wet at the tip. “I wasn’t sure that I would enjoy this,” he says, “with such an act being so… taboo in my time.” He starts to press forward, and it burns deliciously, a sweet stretch that makes your limbs tingle and a line of drool drip from your mouth.

“Oh fuck,” you moan, your words wet as you sob them into the pillow. “Thank you, God, thanks for in- indulging me,” you manage, the feeling of his cock splitting you open enough to make your brain fuzzy at the sensation.

A finger comes back to your clit as he laughs darkly, hunching over so that his mouth is near enough to your skin to brush tantalizingly across it. “No, thank you, dear,” he whispers, his balls gently bumping your pussy when he finally bottoms out, your wail lost in the fabric of the sheets. “I might never have known- how much tighter this lovely body of yours could be. You’re clenching down on me so sweetly, my love.”

There’s a mental aspect to it, you’re sure; to the rapidly approaching bliss of orgasm that you can already feel buzzing in your bones as Alastor speaks. You love making him feel good, especially with something he was initially reluctant to try. You love the hint of desperation in his voice when he bucks his hips forward, a clawed hand digging into your hip where he clings to you for dear life.

A growl rips free from his throat as he comes down to bite gently at your shoulder, the slightest hint of teeth that he immediately soothes with his tongue. “To think,” he murmurs against your skin, “that you would be so desperate for me that you’ll take me in any hole. It’s enough to drive a man mad.” He begins to fuck you in earnest as your body burns at his words, the sweep of arousal and need that spreads through your body like fire rendering you beyond speech; you whine and moan like a whore into Alastor’s sheets, letting him use your body as he pleases, the only thing keeping you grounded the sharp pricks of his claws into your skin. You clench impossibly harder on him as the walls of your cunt flutter around nothing, his fingers wet with your slick and pressing insistently at your clit. “So perfect around me- fuck, darling, I’m already- fuck, fuck-”

His hips don’t stop shoving against your ass as he spends himself, a couple long pulses into the tight heat of your body as he growls, still pistoning as he fills you. He trails his teeth along the soft skin of your shoulders as if to distract himself from the way that you shake and ripple around him as you reach your peak as well, the echo of his cursing echoing in your head as you commit it to memory with a cry of his name. 

Everything is quiet for a moment while Alastor catches his breath, huffing heavily into your back and running soothing hands over the pinpricks he’s left on your hips. “Forgive me,” he says, and you can hear the tinge of embarrassment to the words. “I didn’t mean to- spend myself so quickly, before I could attend to your needs.”

“Needs met,” you slur against the pillow, a low groan escaping you when he pulls out and you feel his release dribbling slowly from your body before there’s a snap and soft fabric wiping at your sore skin. Your brain is still light and fuzzy as he cleans the two of you up, flipping you and repositioning so that you rest against his chest, body covered with silk sheets that he pulls over the top of you. “Thank you,” you murmur into his chest, the soft fur of it tickling your nose.

He hums into your hair, stroking a hand down your back. “It was a satisfactory venture out of my comfort zone,” he says softly. “I’m not sure that I would want to do this on a regular basis by any means but it would be a nice treat every once in a while.”

You hadn’t even expected him to agree to another time- you’d thought he would indulge you this once and move past it with how reluctant he had been at first, before he agreed once you assured him that it wouldn’t cause you any pain and that such an act was commonplace now. Your heart swells with affection, and you stretch up far enough to press a kiss to his cheek. “Love you,” you mumble, and the resulting rumble in his chest when he says it back is enough to lull you into an easy, sated sleep.

[jumpywhumpywriter]

Living Weapon Whumpee part 7

Warnings: touch starvation, forced living weapon/fighter, torture, knife whump, captive living weapon

AHHHHH this is literally so many posts in one day! 😱😱 but everyone keeps wanting more and I'd feel bad if I left you all on a cliffhanger!!

And what was a little more pain, after everything he'd been through as Weapon? He could surely handle it… right…?

Whumpee clenched his jaw hard as Flint pressed the tip of the serrated blade into his side, piercing through the bandage located right below his ribs. The general paused there for a moment, eyebrow raised meaningfully, giving Whumpee a chance to cave. But he pushed it further into his flesh when Whumpee chose silence, earning a sharp inhale from the restrained weapon.

The sharp metal dug deep into Whumpee's bullet wound, and at first he managed to breathe through the pain, taking it with composure, but when Flint took it out and moved to another spot, he couldn't help a low groan. The dagger hurt even more coming out than going in, the serrations easily sliding through his flesh.

A few more cuts and Whumpee started to writhe, keening whines escaping him as the pain intensified.

Every few injuries Flint would repeat his question, each time being met with resistance from Whumpee.

It must have gone on for at least half an hour before Whumpee finally began screaming. Still not talking, just screaming and wailing every time he was cut open again. He didn't beg, didn't plead, knowing it was futile. All he could do was cry out as he was tortured.

Four hours in, and Whumpee truly wished he would die. His whole body was a vessel of blazing agony, blood sliding down his skin in scarlet rivulets to pool at his feet, hitching breaths making his chest heave.

And the fifth hour he crumpled, his legs unable to support him anymore against the excruciating pain setting every nerve on fire. Only the cuffs on his wrists kept him up. And finally, Whumpee broke, gave Flint the location of Leader's base. He just wanted the pain to stop.

"Thank you," Flint acknowledged simply, wiping Whumpee's blood off his hands with a small towel he'd brought. "And what are your Leader's plans for his next attack?"

Whumpee couldn't help a choked sob at that, trembling violently all over. Of course there would be more questions. He should have seen it coming. But unlike before, there was no fight left in Whumpee, no fear of Leader that would keep him from spilling all the secrets just for a single moment of rest. He was too desperate, such a spectacularly human emotion coming from the living weapon.

Flint wrote down notes on everything on a small pad of paper, recording each and every one of Whumpee's answers as the weapon hung shivering in the chains.

Whumpee thought he would never stop being peppered by questions, but finally, they stopped coming, and he almost cried in sheer relief.

"Much obliged, Weapon," Flint said once he was finished. "I'll send the medics in to patch you up shortly. I'm going to have to put the muzzle back on though for their safety and comfort." He scooped up the muzzle from the floor, cautiously approaching the bleeding Whumpee, whose eyes flicked up, full of unbridled terror.

"No... No more pain?" Whumpee rasped in confusion, voice ruined from screaming.

Flint frowned. "I got what I wanted. What reason would I have to keep hurting you? It would be pointless."

The general was even more of an enigma now. Whumpee couldn't figure him out. Leader would have beaten him to within an inch of life before stopping, no matter how much Whumpee surrendered and complied. But Flint wasn't like Leader, apparently. He only used the amount of force necessary to achieve his goals, nothing more. He didn't inflict pain for the joy of it.

"Wait," Whumpee whispered, and Flint paused with the muzzle in hand, raising an eyebrow. “Is… she okay? The girl?” he swallowed dryly.

“My daughter? Yes, she's fine. A bit shaken up after you attacked me, but physically okay.”

Whumpee nodded gratefully, but flinched when Flint brought the leather up to his face. He didn't fight or struggle as the muzzle was fitted snugly and tightened around his head, leaving him voiceless once more.

"You are a prisoner here, Weapon, but I do not intend to harm you any more than necessary, if it's any reassurance," Flint said as he stepped away. "As long as you comply, there is no need for you to suffer."

The relief crashed over Whumpee in a tidal wave. No one had ever told him they weren't going to hurt him before. In fact, most people enjoyed it. He clung fiercely to the general's words, desperately wanting to believe them.

Flint turned and walked out of the room, leaving Whumpee alone in silence. When the door opened again, two young women in full medical clothes came in, each carrying medical bags. Whumpee wasn't sure if Flint would actually send the medics he'd promised, so he was mildly surprised to see them.

The woman approached slowly and cautiously, eyeing the injured weapon nervously as they dug into their bags and brought out various medical supplies. And Whumpee couldn't blame them for that fear, after everything he'd done. He was a monster capable of so much destruction.

One woman removed the old dressings covering his various bullet wounds that were now soaked with blood from the fresh gashes Flint himself had opened. It made Whumpee shudder as the material peeled away from his sticky skin. But what came after was far worse, as an antiseptic mixture was poured into each wound to sterilize it and prevent infection.

There was no way Whumpee could possibly stay composed through the burning agony that worked its way deep into each raw injury after that, and he threw his head back and screamed into the muzzle, the sound heavily muffled.

Another ragged wail tore loose from him as the second woman got to work stitching up the wounds the first girl had cleaned and sterilized, working with needle and thread in careful, precise movements. Whumpee wasn't given any painkillers, and it was a whole new form of torture to endure this.

Whumpee was breathing hard through his nose when the Medics were finally finished, sweaty and trembling as he watched the woman wordlessly pack up their supplies and leave. They switched off the light, plunging the whole room into total darkness. Whumpee guessed it must be nighttime.

He tried so hard to rest, but it was practically impossible in the stress position the chains and cuffs kept him in. They pulled on his arms and shoulders, making them ache and cramp.

⏪️ Back Next ⏩️

Masterlist

@scoundrelwithboba @lumpofsand @isikedmyself878 @iamheretohurt @fleur-a-whump

@ay5ksal @otterfrost @sausages-things @i-don't-know-sal @togzy

@whump-till-ya-jump @cravesunconditionallove @whumpwritinglover222

@silly-scroimblo-skrunkl

[emisprocrastinatingbywriting]

Alone and Forsaken

Chapter 6 Summary:

Waking up along alone is certainly not what you expected after a night of passionate love making with Joel. To make things worse, a snowstorm is sweeping through the trees, making you nervous about his whereabouts. With no other option, you leave to go find him and are surprised with what you find.

Warnings: Minor Injuries, Angst and Fluff, Soooo much smut, likely truly filthy smut and I make no apologies, Joel is bad at feelings, mentions of past abuse/trauma, and brief mention of violence towards the end (not towards reader or Joel)

A/N: Hello my lovelies, I hope your week has been good. Major smut warning for this chapter, just truly filthy fucking near the end (I'm ovulating rn, my bad lol). Amidst the loads of smut, we learn a bit more about reader's background. More importantly, we get the first glimpse into who Paul is. This chapter is mainly through Joel's perspective as he works through some things with reader. Again, read with caution if you have past trauma. Take care of yourself always!

Chapter 6/20

Chapter 6: Confessions

“Please.” 

“I already said no.”

“But-”

“Behave.”

You whined, kicking your legs out in frustration before a sharp smack to your ass made you yelp. The thick drag in between your folds started again as a palm came up to soothe the burn.  

“Joel,” you whimpered. 

The feeling of the tip of his cock nudging your clit as he rubbed his length up and down your seam made you twitch. Another slap came down on the other cheek and you wailed. Joel cooed at you, rubbing at the angry red mark he had left behind with one hand as the other held your hips in place. 

“Jesus darling, you’re prettier than a picture like this. Wish you could see it,” Joel groaned as he continued to rut against your folds, the head catching on your entrance as you deepened the arch in your back. 

“Ungh - fuck, please - need you inside,” you mewled, trying to wiggle closer so that you could sink down on to the cock that throbbed against your slickened center. 

“Hmmmm… I don’t know. I don’t think you need it that bad,” he teased. 

You let out a grunt, frustration getting the better of you as you ripped out of his grasp and began to crawl up the bed. Just before you reached the headboard, hands grabbed your hips and yanked you back as you squealed. Joel brought both of his hands down, a wave of slick dribbling down your thighs as both sides of your ass smarted. 

“Sweet girl, ‘thought I told you to stay still while I’m playing with this pretty pussy. Can’t you feel how wet she is for me? Be good and maybe I’ll let her have it,” he tsked, positioning himself before he restarted the slow grind against you. 

Defeated, you relented, crying into the sheets and trying to keep yourself still as he dragged himself back and forth. You had no idea how he was keeping himself together, your heat had made you desperate for him but his rut seemed to only make him mean. Heat gathered inside of you, clit throbbing as the feeling of him against you had you racing towards your release. Joel’s fingers dug into your hips, hand coming up every so often to smack your ass as you moaned and wept.

“P-please, I can’t - AH! Daddy, ungh, inside please. Need you inside,” you stuttered, a handful of swats making it almost impossible to finish your request. 

Joel chuckled and slowed his pace, hushing you as you whimpered and thrashed. You were close to cussing him out but the words died in your throat. Joel began to breach your entrance, slick soaking the end of his dick as he held it against your hole. The two of you felt how your walls tried to pull him deeper as tears blurred your vision. You babbled and keened, begging Joel to push himself further in. 

He leaned forward, covering your back with his broad chest. The feeling of his strong nose skimming your neck made you shiver. You felt him smile against your skin, kissing both of your tear stained cheeks before he leaned in to whisper in your ear. 

“Careful what you wish for,” Joel said softly before slamming into you. 

-

An ear-splitting, high pitched wail was ripped out of your throat as you shot up in bed. Confused and sweating, it took a few seconds to shake off the filthy dream. You rubbed your bleary eyes and yawned, surveying the disaster. Sweat, slick, and cum soaked the sheets below you, traces of you and Joel covering almost every inch of the room now. Joel had fucked you last night until his rut hit somewhere between your third or fourth round, then he had fucked you some more. He stopped only to get you a snack and a glass of water, grumbling as you made him share it with you again. After you were fed he was back on you, sending you over the edge again and again. 

The final round was much like your dream. He had you ass up with your face shoved into the sheets below. You drooled into the fleece as he held the back of your neck, pushing you deeper into the bed as you arched against him. His pace was unbearable, his thrusts resounding throughout the room with a wet thwap, thwap, thwap. Joel had already made you cum three times in this position and the overstimulation was becoming almost too much. You couldn’t help the way your body convulsed each time he drove into you with a grunt, sobbing and hiccuping as he pulled you closer to yet another release. 

“P-pleeeease, I can’t. Need you to umph - need you to cum in me,” you whimpered.

Joel hissed, his thrusts faltering for a moment before speeding up, “Yeah baby? Is that it? Is that what you need? Need me to cum in that little pussy? Fuck, so fucking wet for me - shit!” 

A couple more thrusts and his knot was pulsing against your walls. Eyes bleary, you came painfully hard against him for what felt like the millionth time. The pleasure tore through you and fried every nerve ending in your body as you screamed. Without any warning you had collapsed onto the sheets below, pulling a grunt from Joel as the connection between you had yanked him down on top of you. Your head felt like it was underwater as you laid there. You went in and out of consciousness as he pulled you both on your sides, honeyed words coaxing you down from your high. His rasp had lulled you, warm skin covering you like a thick blanket as you snuggled back into him. 

You drifted for a bit, barely noticing when he finally pulled out and left the room. Moments later you groaned as he flipped you on to your back. You felt him cleaning between your legs, cooing as the wet cloth made you whine at him. After Joel was done he rolled you back on to your side, positioning himself behind you before he tucked you into his chest. His arms holding you and legs tangled with your own, a feeling of peace washed over you. You smiled as he kissed the back of your head and whispered goodnight. Sleep had already pulled you under before you could respond. 

As you remembered the past 24 hours with Joel, a rush of desire had your core dripping and abdomen cramping up again. You whipped your head around in search of him. Despite the slight ache that made you wince as you shifted, the heat that still lurked in your system called for him. You turned, finding nothing but empty sheets and discarded clothes around you.

“Joel?,” you called, waiting for an answer for a moment before slipping out of bed. 

The heat was bearable for a moment, still there but prowling in the corners of your being as you moved through the hall. The air was frigid against your damp skin and your teeth chattered as you walked. The cabin was colder than it had ever been and you could see your breath puff out in front of you. For a moment you wondered why Joel would even be out here and then you remembered how his rut had turned him into a furnace. You shook your head and tried to forget about the heat that radiated off his skin as he pounded into you. Joel probably couldn’t even feel how cold it was in the cabin.  

Reaching the living room, you tried not to gag as fear made your stomach churn. Knees shaking, you walked over to the front door. The wood thumped against the frame as frosty wind howled outside. You jumped as the heavy metal latch banged against the frame. Grabbing the latch to keep it from spooking you again, you took a deep breath and poked your head out. 

A snow storm had arrived sometime after you finally passed out in the early morning and it covered everything in white. The sight would have been beautiful if the wind wasn’t tearing through the trees and stirring up the flurries as they fell. Squinting as you tried to find his figure amongst the snow, it was nearly impossible to see more than a few feet in front of you. To make things worse, the evening light was slowly dying and a new wave of fear had you trembling in the doorway. Joel was out in this? Your eyes snapped to the coat hanger and noticed that Joel had left his hefty jacket behind. 

You swore, mind racing as the thought of him lying dead under a layer of snow forced you into action. The cramps in your abdomen were growing more impatient but you ignored them and slipped on Joel’s forgotten coat. You shoved on a pair of clunky boots, growling in frustration as you realized that the boots you donned were his too. You wondered how he had survived for years out here by himself and thought about tearing him a new one as you tried to prepare for the bitter wind. Steeling yourself, you took a deep breath before you set off to find him. 

 - Joel -

Panic. 

That’s what Joel felt as he watched you sleep peacefully in his arms. 

Joel had woken up to the feeling of you shifting, a soft hmph coming from you as you hugged one of his arms that was thrown over your body. A sleepy smile broke out on Joel’s face, a long forgotten feeling sending butterflies loose in his belly. Looking down, he wondered why he had ever pushed you away. His eyes ran over your body, admiring every inch before his gaze had landed on the cum leaking out of your core. It made his cock twitch at first, kickstarting the feverish thoughts about him fucking you, claiming you, filling you with him until it took. It was that last part that caught him off guard. 

He cussed, beginning to panic as he realized what he had just done. Not only had he fucked you, oh no, he had knotted you. And not once, but so many times that he couldn’t even count. Even better, he did this while you were in heat and he was in a rut, which upped the chances of it taking by like a million percent. He gulped, his heart starting to thunder as he slid out of bed as quietly as he could, throwing on random clothes before tiptoeing out of the room. 

Joel paced in the living room as he tore into himself. What the fuck did he think would happen? Of course, knotting you might lead to pregnancy. He was a grown man, he should know that. What was he thinking? Well, that’s just it, he wasn’t thinking. Joel growled, rubbing his face as he cursed every God that had ever existed for giving him a cock. His eyes snapped open as the panic burning his chest continued to build, his rut making it so much worse. Holy fuck, what if you were pregnant already? No, that’s stupid of course you’re not. And plus, he could still smell the slick heat calling to him from the bedroom. 

Still, the smell did little to comfort him and Joel’s mind began to spiral with the possibilities. Okay, so what if he did get you pregnant? He needed to keep you safe. Oh fuck, he needed to keep his pup safe. His racing heart made him sway on his feet, the walls shrinking in on him as he thought of the words the intruder said to him. Paul will be coming for what’s his, echoed in his ears over and over as he began to tense and growl. His rut brought out a brutal side to him and the rage he felt made him practically vibrate as he fantasized about slitting the throat of the unknown man. Paul couldn’t have you, you belonged with him. Delirious and sweating, Joel had shoved his feet into the first pair of shoes he found and trudged out into the blizzard. 

Operating on autopilot, he worked for a few hours. He didn’t go very far, wanting to be near enough to hear you in case of danger. Joel settled on fencing in the trees that surrounded the cabin, tearing the skin on his hands as he worked with the sharp wire. Mind focused on nothing but keeping everyone else out, he didn’t even think about the fact that he would have to leave some sort of exit for himself. At some point Joel would need to get out to get water and check his traps but his brain was clouded with fear. Instead he sealed the two of you in, not even blinking as the snow covered his shoulders and the barbs nicked his hands. He was just about to start setting new traps along the perimeter when he heard a soft voice call his name. 

Joel whipped around, seeing nothing but snow as he tried to pinpoint where it came from. He almost ignored it, thinking that maybe his rut was making him hear things. But when the frigid breeze brought a faint whiff of his favorite smell, he knew it wasn’t his mind playing tricks on him. Joel surged forward, his strides quick and determined. Carried by instinct alone, he found his way to you in no time, grabbing you and turning you to face him as you yelped in surprise. 

“Joel! What are you doing out here? It’s not safe,” you blubbered over the howling wind, shoving at his chest as tears of frustration froze on your cheeks. 

He blinked, trying to make sense of what you said. Not safe? Joel knew it wasn’t safe, that’s why he was out here. Couldn’t you see that?

“M’gonna take care of you. Nobody’s gonna take you. Not ever,” Joel growled, his eyes frantic as he shook your body where it stood, trying to make you understand his urgency. 

Joel could feel your eyes burning into him as he whipped his head around, looking for any sign of danger. He didn’t like you out here, it was too open. As he stood in front of you, he tried to figure out where the vantage point would be if someone wanted to attack. Someone could throw some sort of fabric over the fence and vault it. If they did that he would need to push you behind him and charge. Or they could climb a tree, that would be easier. From the tree, they could just hop down on top of him. If they got the jump on him he would need to throw them off before they could do any damage. If Joel got hurt, you would be without protection. What would he do if that happened? Chest tight, Joel felt like he was about to keel over when soft, cold hands grabbed his face and yanked it forward. 

“Joel,” you said seriously, cheeks flushed and nose slightly runny as your worried eyes met his. 

“I need-,” he stopped as you cut him off. 

“You NEED to come inside Joel. It’s not safe out here in the storm. I need you to come back with me right now.”

A grunt rumbled in Joel’s chest as the wind tore through the both of you, panic still hooking into his heart and pulling him back towards his work. 

“Please alpha.”

Suddenly torn, Joel groaned as one half of him now needed to stay and continue to fortify, while the other half needed to fuck you into the mattress until you gushed around him. He tried to shake the latter from his mind, trying to remember the words the intruder had said to keep his mind straight. Joel tried hard not to think about his hard cock pressing against the cotton shorts that covered his - Wait, what? What the fuck was he wearing? 

Looking down, Joel was greeted by the sight of his own tan legs staring back at him. He swore, realizing that he had come all the way out here in nothing but a pair of boxers, a t- shirt, and a pair of ratty slippers. Meeting your gaze once more, he suddenly understood the anxious look in your eye. Joel looked absolutely insane. He was outside soaking wet during a snowstorm with barely any clothes on, trying to figure how to argue his way into staying as his palms bled against the bulky coat that covered your shaking figure. 

“I uh - I don’t-,” he trailed off, embarrassed at the state he was in. 

“I know, c’mon. Come back with me Joel,” you soothed, pulling his arm behind you as you turned back towards the cabin. 

Joel followed dumbly, fighting the urge to tear his arm away and run back to his doomsday preparations. The only thing that kept him on your heels was the sight of your bare legs pebbled with goosebumps. Guilt swirled in his gut as he realized that you had come out to find him in nothing but a coat and boots. Your body had probably shook from the harsh breeze as you trudged through the layers of thick snow, only to find him in this state. He wondered briefly how long you had been outside but he had to stop. Thinking about it made him close to tears. 

After reaching the cabin, you pulled him inside and latched the door. With the door shut, you moved to undress him. Joel tried to object but you had glared at him until he relented. He gulped, suddenly feeling like he was a little boy rather than a 56 year old man. For someone who was so sweet, he now understood that you could be fucking scary when you wanted to be. Wet clothes torn off, you led him to the couch and shoved him down before covering him with a blanket. 

“Honey I don’t need-,” Joel started, trying to get up the moment he noticed the fire had gone out. 

“Shut up.”

Joel guffawed, the alpha in him begging him to ignore it and build a nice big fire for you but your tone made him stay put. He watched as you turned, ridding yourself of the soaked jacket and boots before trailing off into the kitchen. Joel stared at the wall, shame making his breaths rattle in his chest as he swallowed thickly. He heard you click on the kettle and tried to focus on the sound of you readying what he assumed was tea so that he wouldn’t start crying. Joel felt absolutely useless. His cock ached as it leaked against the soft pudge of his stomach but he ignored it, closing his eyes and trying to calm himself. 

He heard you move back into the room, setting down a mug on the side table to his left before rustling with the fireplace. He listened to the thud of logs being tossed in, the crinkling of paper, the flicking of a lighter, and soft bursts of air coming from your lips to feed the flame. Joel’s eyes opened as you stood in front of the fire, the dying light that crept in from the windows making you look ethereal. You turned and walked back over to him, moving the blanket to the side before you slid onto his lap. Joel whined at the coldness of your skin, gritting his teeth to keep his emotions in. You sighed, covering the both of you with a blanket before reaching over to grasp the steaming mug. 

“Drink.”

Joel looked down at the mug and back up at you before he weakly repeated the words you had said to him the day earlier, “Share it with me?” 

You smiled, nodding your head. He took the first few gulps fast. The minty liquid scalded his tongue and he winced. He didn’t mind it too much though, the pain sobered him a bit. You hissed like you could feel his pain yourself and snatched the mug away from him. Joel grimaced as you tested it, watching as you coughed from the temperature and quickly placed the mug back on the side table. You turned to him with an eyebrow raised and he looked back at you sheepishly. Sighing again, you reached back to the side table and grabbed what looked to be a damp cloth, pulling one of his bleeding hands up to clean.

“You gonna tell me what that was about?,” you asked softly, frowning at the cuts.

Joel shifted under you, his heart racing with your core so close to his painfully hard cock. He really didn’t want to have this conversation right now. However, as he watched you move to wrap his hand in a bandage, he knew he had no choice. 

“I got scared,” he mumbled, watching you work to avoid your gaze. 

You hummed, switching hands before you asked, “Of me again?” 

His eyes widened, looking up at you in confusion as you continued to work. Your eyes stayed on his hand, putting the cloth aside and grabbing the bandages as he sat there with his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. 

“Wh- scared of you? I’ve never been - Darling, I’m not - I just - What?,” Joel said, stumbling over his words as he tried to make sense of the question. 

Joel tried to get his thoughts straight, but it didn’t help that he was also actively trying to keep himself from canting his hips upwards. Your eyes met his as you finished the other hand. If he was a weaker man he probably would’ve moaned as they pierced through his rough exterior, making him grind his teeth as his dick jumped. Leaning down, you kissed the rough bandage before placing your hands on his shoulders. 

“Fine. It wasn’t me this time,” you said, bulldozing through Joel’s attempts to speak as you continued, “But it was something. What was it?”

Joel felt helpless. He didn’t want to tell you about his worries, especially about what the intruder had said. He couldn’t, not with you so vulnerable. Joel had no idea what to do and your gaze made him nervous as he tried to think of an answer. 

“Sweetheart I -,” he gasped as you began to rock your hips against him, soaking him as he tried not to whine. 

“You what? Big bad alpha can’t speak? Has to run away from me instead of talking it through,” you challenged, anger seeping into your tone and making him groan as you pulled his hair. 

Joel swallowed and moved to grab your hips, needing to pull you against him harder but you shoved his bandaged fists away. He whimpered desperately, which surprised him but made you smirk as you continued to rub yourself over him. Joel felt like he was in a dream as utter shock quickly turned into overwhelming desire.  

“Aw, and now he wants to touch me. How sweet. Too bad he couldn’t use his words. Now he gets to watch,” you spat, moving your hand down to grab ahold of him, positioning his cock at your entrance before sliding down in one go. 

You both groaned, his cock twitching against the grip your pussy had on him as slick dripped down his balls and stained the couch below. Before Joel had a chance to say anything you were off, rising so that only the tip stayed inside before dropping down hard. The pace you set was brutal and it had Joel pressing his thumbs into his torn palms to keep himself from cumming too quickly. Choked groans and whines tumbled freely from his mouth, the pressure building in him as you used him for your own pleasure. 

“This what you need, daddy?,” you asked breathily, pace unfaltering as his head spun, “Need me to remind you who you belong to? Who owns this fucking cock Joel, tell me.”

Joel choked on his spit at his own words being shot back at him. He had never allowed someone to use him like this, to claim his body as their own. The thought of anyone doing that had never appealed to him but now, with your pussy gushing around his cock and your words making him dizzy, he knew he could get behind one person doing it to him. He closed his eyes, trying to get it together before his attention was snapped back to you by a harsh grip on his hair. You pulled his head back, eyes meeting as you bounced ruthlessly in his lap. An embarrassingly loud moan escaped his lips as you tugged on his curls again, his knot already starting to nudge your entrance.  

“You want to knot me Joel? Want to fill me up - ah fuck - make me yours?,” you asked, pace getting more frantic as your pussy began to tighten around him. 

Joel nodded enthusiastically, all previous fears about cumming inside of you thrown out the window as he sucked his bottom lip between his teeth and prayed you were close. He needed to feel you choke his cock before he finished, he needed it like he needed the air he breathed. Grabbing his chin with one hand as the other used his shoulder for support, you pulled his gaze from the bouncing tits in his face and made him meet your gaze. 

“If you want to cum inside, answer me. Who owns this fucking cock? ” you grunted. 

Eyebrows pinched together and cock on the verge of exploding, Joel broke. Desperate words spilled out of him before he could catch them as you kept up the frantic pace.

“Fucking shit baby, you! You own it! S’all yours, fuuuck. Please honey just - ha - just let me have it. God fuck, m’yours. I’m fucking yours just - ungh - please!,” Joel moaned wantonly. 

You smiled down at him sweetly before slamming down onto his knot, locking the two of you together as you both came. 

Joel let out a shout as his cock erupted inside of you. His hands moved to hold your hips down, forcing you as far down as you could go. His cock released a torrent of cum, painting your insides white until you were bloated with it. You moaned and shook against him, wave after wave of pleasure making you clamp down around his knot and dragging him back into another orgasm. His vision blacked out, mouth finding your neck and sucking at your gland as you arched into him. Joel used every bit of strength he had not to bite down and firmly seal the deal, to make you officially his, but he couldn’t. That would have to be a conversation, a big one. He would never force you into something you didn’t want. Still, a small part of him secretly hoped you would claim him first. 

After the last bit of pleasure had been milked out of him, he sighed and sat back, eyes raking over your bare skin. You looked as fucked out as he felt. Your hair was a disaster, eyes teary and red, sweat covering every inch of you as you tried to catch your breath. It had him twitching painfully inside of you again. You were a sight that he could get used to looking at, one that he knew he could never go without now. 

“Where did that come from?,” Joel panted, his mind still reeling. 

You laughed and shook your head, hands coming up to play with the curls at the back of his neck. 

“I had a dream that you were being… Well, you were being kinda bossy and I felt like maybe I needed to try it out. Thought it might prove a point,” you huffed, “I mean, I left out some stuff but that was the jist.” 

Joel laughed then groaned, his knot twitching inside of you from the jostling. He took a breath and closed his eyes to slow his racing heart before he reopened them to look at you. 

“The fuck did you leave out?,” he asked. 

You rolled your eyes, cheeks going red as you said, “I don’t know, you were being a bit rough. Smacking my ass so that it left a mark, stuff like that. I could get a little more bossy but you’re sitting down so…”

Joel squawked, “You’d have reddened my backside if I wasn’t sitting?”

You shrugged, “Dunno, maybe.” 

A peal of laughter came out of Joel, the admission taking him completely off guard. Your head snapped up, face twisted in annoyance for a second before you joined him. Uncaring of the way his knot jolted from the outburst, Joel laughed until he had to wipe tears from his eyes. After his laughter subsided he met your gaze and smiled. 

“Well sweetheart, if there’s anyone I’d let slap me silly, I reckon it’d be you,” he joked. 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you said, beaming at him. 

Shaking his head, Joel chuckled, “M’ sure you will.” 

You smiled for a second before a serious look crossed your face again and you looked away, suddenly avoiding his gaze as you twirled his graying strands. He could tell you wanted to ask him something but that you didn’t want to upset him. Looking down at where the two of you were locked together, he sighed, resigning himself to a conversation that he didn’t want to have. It’s not like he was going anywhere.  

“Go on darling, say what you want to say. I won’t get mad.” 

You looked up, studying his face for a moment before you asked again, “Why were you scared?” 

Joel sighed, his fears coming to the surface once more, but he pushed them away. He needed to be honest with you, that much was clear now. If he was going to figure out how to deal with this, he needed to know what had happened. And plus, it wasn’t fair for you to be in the dark about someone who may or may not have been a big part of your life. He didn’t want to admit it to himself, but a small part of him was worried that you might actually want this Paul guy to come and take you away from him. Joel wasn’t sure he could survive that if it happened. He’d already lost so much. But still, he needed to be honest. 

“I need to ask you something. Now, I don’t want you to get upset but I just… It’s something that the man that came in here said. I wanted to tell you about it but then with your heat, I thought maybe it’d be best if I waited. Then my rut came and the thought of it is driving me crazy. I mean you saw how crazy I went and I -” you placed your lips against his, cutting off his rambling. 

Joel’s eyes slipped shut as his lips touched yours. It was quick and sweet, just enough to bring him back down to earth before he spiraled again. His lips chased yours as you parted and the sound of your giggle made him smile. 

“Ask me Joel.” 

He nodded and grabbed one of your hands in his, rubbing his thumb over the knuckles as he began. 

“Who's Paul and Cooper?” Joel asked cautiously.  

Joel winced as he watched your face fall, squeezing your hand in his to try and ground you. A million emotions flickered across your face. Shock, fear, anger, sadness, and then back to fear. 

“I d-don’t - how did you -,” you stammered, trying to pull a sentence together but failing. 

“The man that was here, he um… Before I uh… Well, before I killed him, he kept talking about how Paul and Cooper were looking for you. How Paul would be coming for what’s his and um… Well, I got the notion that he meant that y’all were together or something,” Joel said, treading extremely carefully as your face grew more and more pinched. 

“I am not his, I am my own fucking person Joel. Paul doesn’t own me, I don’t give a shit what he says. Nobody fucking owns my body but me. I thought you would understand that. And Cooper can go fuck himself,” you snarled. 

Joel put his hands up in defense and shook his head wildly, scrambling to tear the foot from his mouth. 

“No, of course not baby. I’m not - That’s not what I’m saying. I would never think - Own you? ‘Course nobody can own you, that’s not what I was trying to say. I was just trying to tell you what the man said, I’m not - oh fuck, I’m screwing this up,” he stuttered, his heart rate picking up again as you glared at him. 

With his stuttered protest hanging in the air, you relaxed a little in his lap. Joel watched as you looked away, suddenly seeming a lot more deflated as you stared at the carving of the cowboy that sat on the bookshelf. 

“I’m sorry Joel. I know I shouldn’t… It’s just with my heat and everything - I swear I didn’t mean to snap at you or assume that you would be like him. I just -,” you stopped and bit your cheek as your words faltered. 

Joel shook his head, reaching out with one of his hands to brush the tears away as they fell. He hushed you, bringing the other to your hip to rub soothing circles into the skin as he had before. 

“S’alright darling. You don’t got anything to apologize for. Alphas can be… Well, a lot of us can be assholes, I know that. I’d never try to… Your body is your own honey, I know that. I’d never assume otherwise, I swear,” he said softly, hoping you would understand. 

You sniffed and nodded, “I know Joel.” 

“Good. So just talk to me baby,” Joel encouraged as he brushed the hair off of your face.

You nodded, looking down for a second and pulling in one long breath before you began.

“Paul was chosen to be my mate. I couldn’t - Omegas didn’t really have a choice where I grew up, so there wasn’t much I could do but I… I knew Paul. He was one of Josiah’s closest men back home and he was… scary.”

Joel furrowed his brow, “Scary how?” 

“Scary like, I don’t know. He was really mean to anyone who wasn’t an alpha. Betas, he could stomach to a certain degree but he would be a lot snappier. But if an omega talked without being spoken to in front of him, he’d have them thrown into the pit for a week. He was even mean to animals, Jake saw him kill a dog once for taking food he’d left out. It was this little boy’s dog, he had rescued it before he even got to camp. Brought it all the way across the country but Paul just killed the poor thing like it was nothing,” you said, shuddering at the memory. 

A sick feeling rushed over Joel and twisted his stomach, making him grit his teeth as he listened. He tried to focus on calming you, knowing that if he opened his mouth all that would come out would be a detailed report on the many ways he could kill Paul. 

“Anyways… So, I never liked him. He always followed me around and would try to get me alone, but my mom was so strict. It was the only time I was ever thankful for it actually, because it meant that I was never left with him. He always looked at me in a way that made me feel…” you stopped and pressed a finger to the tip of your nose as you tried to think of the word. 

“Uncomfortable?” Joel provided. 

“Yeah, uncomfortable I guess. It just… always made me feel kinda dirty, like he was trying to see through my clothes or something,” you said. 

Joel nodded thoughtfully, “That’s your instincts. Smart that you listened to them. Lot of young people don’t ‘cus they want to be nice and then they wind up getting hurt.”

You thought it over for a second before you nodded and continued. 

“I guess so. Didn’t matter much anyways. About two years ago, Jake got caught trying to sneak away with Liam,” you started but he cut you off. 

“Whose Liam?” he asked. 

Joel kicked himself for interrupting. It reminded him how Sarah used to tease him for asking too many questions when she tried to talk to him about her friends. He could only ever keep track of a few names, the less mentioned friends always getting forgotten or confused with another. 

“Liam was Jake’s boyfriend. He was really sweet. Jake thought he was handsome but I could never get over how red his hair was,” that earned a huff of laughter from Joel and you smiled back for a moment before continuing, “They wanted to run away and start a new life together.”

Joel nodded for you to continue. Watching as your face grew solemn once more, he squeezed your hand again to bring you back to earth. You looked up and squeezed him back before moving on. 

“Josiah said Jake was to be mated to Paul’s younger brother Cooper. He wasn’t like Paul, I always thought he was actually pretty nice in comparison. Still, he never said anything when Paul was on a rampage, always looked too scared. I guess Jake couldn’t take it so he tried to get out. They got caught and Josiah flipped because they were both omegas. He kept yelling and calling them a bunch of really bad things, and they ended up hanging Liam for some charge. I don’t remember what it’s called now… Sodony, maybe?”

“Sodomy?,” he guessed, trying to keep his face neutral as the story just kept getting worse. 

You nodded, “Yeah, that’s it I think. They were going to hang Jake too but I started yelling. I begged Josiah first but he wouldn’t budge, so I tried to get Paul to stop it. I thought maybe since he liked me, he might agree to let Jake go to the pit instead, and he did. He convinced Josiah to let Jake go. A couple of weeks later Jake got out and married Cooper. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so sad.” 

You stopped and Joel waited, not wanting to interrupt again. 

“About a month after that, Josiah said I had to marry Paul. I begged him not to make me, I even asked if it could be someone else but he was set on Paul. There was nothing I could do. The wedding was awful, I refused to say my vows but it didn’t matter. Josiah married us. I was hoping that I would get hit by lightning or something until my mom pulled me aside. She shoved me into a room with her and Miriam. They got me out of the stupid dress and gave me some supplies. Mom didn’t say a word but Miriam opened the window and told me to go, so I left,” you said. 

Joel cocked his head in confusion, “Thought you said you came here because your place got overrun.” 

You nodded, “It did. I left for about two months. Figured Paul would just ask Josiah for another mate, he had already gone through two others. But he made them keep looking for me. They finally caught up and threw me in the pit. Rachel came to see me a couple times while I was there. Miriam and her were making plans to get me and Jake out of town, but they never got the chance. The day we were overrun was the day I got out. I haven’t even seen Paul since the day they caught me.” 

That was so much to unravel, but there was one part in particular that irked Joel so he asked, “Gone through? What do you mean he’s gone through two other omegas?” 

Shrugging, you looked at him and said, “Omegas don’t count. First one didn’t listen to him, or something like that I’m not sure, and died in the pit. I was young when it happened, maybe thirteen or so. And the other one had a high risk pregnancy. Miriam said she needed an abortion but Paul didn’t want to hear it so both the omega and the pup died. That happened about two years before Josiah set us up.” 

Joel’s mind spun with this information. What the actual fuck? He gathered that the place you had grown up in was a cult, there was no doubt in his mind about that. But omegas don’t count? Forced marriages? Fucking forced births? He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. In the back of his mind he knew he should say something to comfort you, but he was pissed. 

“I’m going to kill him,” he stated, forgetting that you were still in front of him despite the fact that his softening cock was still inside of you. You laughed and the movement forced him to remember your presence. You looked at him sweetly, which made him extremely confused. Why were you so calm? 

“I’m sure you will alpha,” you chuckled. 

Joel shook his head, pushing himself up as he continued, “I’m serious. He doesn’t get to just treat you or fucking any omega like that. M’gonna rip his fucking head off if I ever see him. Paul can’t have you, I will kill him for thinking that he ever could darling. I swear.” 

Smiling, you rubbed at the whiskers on his cheeks. He looked up at you, eyes sharp as he willed you to understand that he was being completely serious. Joel was going to destroy Paul the second he came within fifty feet of you. 

“I know Joel, that’s why I’m not worried. I trust you.” 

He gasped. You trusted him? Given the story that you had just told him, you had no reason to trust anybody. And you trusted him? Joel Miller, of all people. He couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t believe that you were real. Any normal person would be broken by now, jagged and cracked from the weight of all that had happened. And here you were, with probably a million more stories that would make him want to scream, yet you were still a drop of sunshine. 

“I think you might be one of the strongest people I’ve ever met, baby,” Joel said. And he meant it completely. 

Laughing, you tried to protest and swat him away but he persisted. 

“No stop - agh - wait shit, okay hold on honey,” he said. 

Stopping to pull out, he flipped you on your back and loomed over you, caging you in between his forearms before he continued, “Most people would not have survived all of that, and if they did - shit honey, if they did they probably would have turned out a lot like me. Tired and mean. But you? You went through everything that you did, so much shit that I ain’t even heard yet probably, and you’re still… you.” 

Tears formed in your eyes and you whined, pushing weakly against his chest to try to escape the intensity of the moment but Joel wouldn’t let you. He grabbed your face, leaning down to kiss everywhere he could. 

“You’re kind,” Joel kissed your nose.

“You’re smart,” he kissed your left cheek.

“You’re strong,” he kissed your right cheek.  

“You’re funny,” he kissed your chin. 

“And you’re fucking beautiful,” he finished, leaning down to capture your lips. 

The kiss was electric as your mouths moved together as one, that unsaid feeling growing bigger and bigger inside of Joel with each passing moment. He fought the urge to say it, those three little words that were getting hard to ignore. It was way too soon and right now, with you having just bared your soul to him and both of you sweating from the need rising again, he needed to wait. Lungs screaming for air, Joel pulled his lips from yours and panted against your mouth. 

“Joel,” you whimpered as your heat demanded attention. 

“Are you sure?” he asked, wary of spooking you after everything you had told him. 

Nodding, you pushed some of his hair back as it fell into his eyes. He couldn’t get over how beautiful you were, hair laid out against the couch, eyes bright from tears, a dusting of pink over your cheeks, and the way you looked at him - fuck. If he had less self restraint, that look alone would be what made him tell you everything. And he meant everything. Everything about losing Sarah, about the shit he did with Tommy, about Tess and everything they got up to, about losing Ellie, about how he’s scared to lose you too, about how he lo-

“I need you Joel, please.” 

Joel kissed you again, running his bandaged hands down the length of your body. He cupped one of your breasts and kissed his way down to suck a nipple into his mouth. You moaned, hands moving to cradle the back of his head as he switched between breasts. He kept at it until you were bucking against him. Taking the hint, he moved down your body until he reached your soaked cunt. It was still puffy and leaking from the brutal ride you had taken earlier, slick and cum mixed together in a way that had him growing impossibly harder. He wrapped a hand around himself absentmindedly, tugging at his cock to ease some of the tension before he grabbed you. 

Repositioning you so that your ass was hanging off of the end of the couch, Joel kneeled in front of you. He ignored the slight ache that had already begun in his joints, throwing your legs over his shoulders before he dove in. Joel devoured every inch of you, the taste of the two of you mixed together driving him crazy. He reached up and grabbed your hands in his, letting you squeeze them as he feasted. Sucking and batting at your clit, Joel had you whining and clenching around nothing embarrassingly quick. He groaned as the clenching of your walls pushed slick and cum onto his tongue, bathing his face in juices. 

“Joel, oh my- oooh shit,” you cried, throwing your head back as he moved down and shoved his thick tongue inside of you. 

As Joel’s tongue lapped up everything inside of you, your hips began to grind against his face. He moaned as you rubbed your clit against his nose, cock throbbing at the thought of you using every inch of him that you could reach for your own pleasure. He needed to make you cum again. Rubbing his tongue along the front wall of your pussy and smushing his nose into your clit, he felt your thighs clamp down around his head. Joel was completely smothered by you but he didn’t care. With his face buried between your thighs and his hands holding yours, he felt like he could die a very happy man like this. A shudder passed through your body and you came with a groan, Joel letting you ride it out on his face. 

He planned on continuing his meal, prefering to ignore his own rut as he feasted on your delicious core but the way you cried out to him had Joel clambering back over you. He looked down at you again with a shining face and you giggled, wiping off his mouth as you blushed.  

“I was saving that for later,” Joel drawled. 

You laughed, “Just come and get it from the source you dork.” 

He snorted, moving forward to kiss you as you locked your ankles behind him. Holding himself at your entrance for a moment, he paused, waiting for your nod before he slowly pushed forward. Moans rushed out of the two of you, bodies finally coming together again. He felt like it had been years since he had been inside of you last, even though it had barely been five minutes. 

“Fuuck. No place I’d rather be than inside of ya, baby,” Joel admitted. 

“Don’t ever leave me Joel.” 

That got his attention. 

His eyes locked on yours and he grabbed your face. Kissing you again, Joel poured the three words that he couldn’t bring himself to say into you. Leave you? He tried not to laugh. How the fuck did you think he could ever do that? He’d rather die. Joel pulled away, watching your eyelids flutter before he attempted to stumble through his own feelings for you. His hips slowed their pace, halting altogether as he gathered his thoughts before speaking. 

“Listen to me baby, I ain’t ever going to leave you. I need you. Before you, I was nothing. I came to this place hoping that I could hide away from the world until I died. This place was a fucking tomb for me. But now? Fuck, I couldn’t imagine my life without you. If you ever wanted to leave me I - fuck - it would kill me, but I’d let ya go if it would make you happy. But I will never leave you, d’ya understand?” 

You blinked up at him with shining eyes and blushed, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth as you nodded. Satisfied, Joel kissed you again and restarted his slow thrusts. He kept his mouth on yours, letting his hands roam all over your body as he kept up his pace. Your soft, muffled moans had him breathless and he moved his hand down to play with your throbbing nub. A whine came from you and he smiled, moving to kiss your neck as he worked you steadily towards your release. 

Out of all of the times the two of you had fucked so far, Joel decided that this was his favourite. Soft and sweet, with moans coming from both of you and bodies pressed together, he felt whole. You tugged at his hair with one hand, the other coming to rest over his heart as he continued his calculated thrusts. He felt you begin to tighten around him and he groaned, shifting so the tip of his cock steadily brushed over that sweet spot along your front wall. 

“Please Joel,” you whimpered, pulling his curls again. 

“What baby? What do you need? Tell me and I’ll give it to ya,” he asked urgently.

At this point, Joel was sure that he would give you anything you asked for. 

“Kiss me.” 

And so he did. Mouths melded and bodies writhing languidly against each other, he felt you begin to contract around him. He pressed down harder on your clit, knowing that he could get you there with just a little more pressure. His knot caught on your hole and he groaned as you locked your legs around him tighter, caging him in as he barreled towards the finish line. With one final swipe on the pulsing bud he slammed you down on his knot, making you scream as you came hard around him. Joel groaned as your walls milked him, collapsing on top of you as he came. His mind spun from the physical and emotional toll of the day as he sunk deeper into your embrace. 

The two of you held each other as you both floated, pleasure boiling over again and again and again. Joel felt like he was in limbo, his ears ringing from the absolute bliss that surrounded him. He moaned as you rubbed the tense muscles in his back, hands smoothing over the scarred surface without mentioning the jagged lines. He moved his face into the crook of your neck, humming as he kissed and nipped at the sensitive skin. For what felt like the millionth time, Joel had to push down the desire to bite down, the thought of it making him flood your insides again as he whined against your neck. He wondered if you’d ever leave your mark on him. The thought of you sinking your teeth into his neck, of you claiming him as your alpha, made him grunt. Before he had even come down from his last orgasm, his knot was pulsing again, cock exploding one last time at the thought of him being truly yours. 

Never, not once in his life, had he been so intimate with someone. Not with Sarah’s mom, not with Tess, not with any other of the countless names and faces that he had long since forgotten. Only you. Joel tried to think of any reason to stop himself but he couldn’t come up with a single one. Fuck it, he had to say it now or else he never would. 

“I love you Joel Miller.” 

Joel shot up onto his forearms as shock ran through him. He was slightly peeved that you had taken his line from him but mostly, all he felt was disbelief. 

“Me?” he sputtered, thinking that the only logical explanation was that he must have misheard you. 

“No, not you. I love the other Joel Miller,” you deadpanned, “Of course I mean you, dumbass!” 

He laughed hard, uncaring of how it made him throb inside of you again as relief washed over him. You loved him. You actually loved him. Worries about all the things he had left unsaid started to bubble up to the surface but he pushed them from his mind, allowing himself to have this moment. Joel knew it was selfish, dreading the day that he would have to finally come clean about his past but he couldn’t bring himself to care. 

Joel felt drunk off of you, his chest aching with the overwhelming emotions that he thought had died with Ellie. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh or cry. Joel chose the first option, expecting you to follow him in his joy, but when he looked back down he noticed how your brow was pinched. He cocked his head as he saw your teeth worrying your bottom lip. 

“What’s wrong darling?” he asked, silently praying that you wouldn’t take it back. 

“Um, nothing. I just thought maybe - um, given everything you said I thought you might feel… Nevermind! Everything is great, super awesome,” you murmured, stumbling over your words as you shrunk in on yourself. 

A beat passed before he swore and kicked himself for being a fucking idiot. 

“I love you too,” Joel rushed out, his words jumbled with the urgency of the statement. 

A goofy grin stretched over your face, “You do?” 

“Yeah darling, I really do,” he chuckled, leaning down to kiss you once more. 

The kiss was messy, with the both of you smiling too hard for it to deepen and laughing against each other's mouths. It was perfect. After a few moments, Joel pulled away and you groaned. 

“You can’t be all romantic like that and then not makeout with me, it’s rude,” you complained. 

Joel laughed again, shaking his head as he looked at you with warm eyes. His own laughter felt unfamiliar as it poured from his lips. He tried to remember if he had laughed in all the years that he had been in isolation. Did Tommy ever pull a laugh from him during their scheduled meets? No, the most he ever got from Joel was a forced smile as his brother tried to shove pictures of his nephew in his face. It was annoying, but he totally understood. Joel remembered being the dad that kept a ridiculous amount of pictures of baby Sarah in his wallet, jumping at the chance to show off his curly haired princess the moment anyone on a jobsite mentioned their family. He was proud that Tommy was that type of dad now too, but it didn’t exactly make laughter pour out from his mouth. 

Suddenly, Joel realized just how joyless his life had been these past four years and it made his love for you grow that much more as he looked down at you. 

“Maybe I wasn’t done romancing ya,” he drawled, his voice thick and syrupy. 

“Is that so cowboy?,” you asked, smiling as you pushed his hair behind his ears. 

He hummed, grinding his hips into you as you whimpered. Joel hissed, his softening cock starting to stiffen again as he pulled his half deflated knot out of you. The sudden loss made you claw at his shoulders, soft whines falling from your lips as he started to drag along your sensitive walls once more.  

“Joel, ah - s’good. You feel so good. Fuuck, feels so big,” you moaned as he wrapped your legs around him again. 

As Joel thrusted into you once more, he realized that your body was now bathed in moonlight. The sun must have gone down amidst your confessions and love making, he hadn’t even noticed it. Looking down, Joel’s eyes swallowed you whole. With your breasts jiggling as he pushed into you, bottom lip reddened from your teeth digging into it, slick matting the curls that covered your mound, he hiked your legs up over his hips. The action pulled a loud groan from you as he burrowed deeper inside. He admired the soft pudge of your stomach, preening at the knowledge that it was due to his cooking. Joel had provided for you, he had kept you fed and healthy. The thought almost drove him wild before he remembered. 

A shriek came from you as Joel lifted you from the couch, his cock still nestled inside of you as he began to walk towards the kitchen. You squawked, holding on for dear life as he carried you. He tried to ignore the way you clenched around him at the action, his mind set on the task ahead of him. 

“What - ungh,” you were cut off with a whine as he shifted your weight onto one arm, his cock bumping up against your cervix. 

“M’gonna feed ya first, then I’m gonna fuck ya,” Joel said blankly, not understanding your confusion as he opened the pantry. 

You whined and moaned as he ripped a package of oatmeal open with his teeth. He ignored your pleas as he reached forward to click the kettle on again. Joel carried you around as he readied your food, your pussy clenching as the wiry hairs at the base of his cock tickled your sore clit. It took everything in him not to start working you up and down on his dick, his teeth gritted as he slammed a bowl down onto the counter. He hissed and glared at you as you purposely clenched around him. It was tempting to drop everything and fuck you, but Joel refrained, his need to provide stronger than ever with his rut still burning through his veins. 

“Daddy,” you mewled into his ear, the soft words making his fingers press into your hips harder. 

“Eat first,” Joel grouched, his hand softly slapping the fat of your ass. 

A garbled cry came from you, slick trickling down his thighs from the experimental smack. Joel smirked, completely ignoring the way you fussed against him as he dumped the dried oats and boiling water into the bowl. He turned and walked towards the table, hushing you as he placed you on the edge of it. He smiled wickedly as he cupped your cheeks, cooing at your teary eyes and stuttery pleas. You hiccuped, the desperate cries for his cock making something dark stir inside of him. He had planned on making you cockwarm him as you waited for the oats, but he abandoned the idea the moment he saw how fucked out you were. Fuck it, he thought, oats take like five minutes to rise anyways, right?

“Aw hush baby, s’alright. She needs me so bad doesn’t she? Pretty pussy can’t go very long without my cock huh?,” Joel cooed, the sickly sweet tone of his voice making you impossibly wetter. 

You nodded, trying to buck your hips as he held you down on his cock. Joel tsked and pulled out of you fast, slick and cum dripping down your thighs as he flipped you around. You assumed the position, deepening the arch in your back and rising up on your tiptoes to present yourself to him invitingly. Joel growled at the sight, his cock dripping precum as he smacked your ass again. He grabbed your hair in his fist, making you tremble as he tapped the head of his cock against your clit. 

“P-please alpha, I need you to - shit Joel - I need your cock in me,” you blubbered, fingers scrambling for purchase on the varnished wood.

Joel yanked your head up from its place against the cool surface, which earned him a wanton moan from you. He felt his more dominant side peeking through the cracks of his subconscious, making his palms itch as his imagination ran rampant. He swore, thinking about the box of tricks he had left under his bed in Austin. A grunt left him as he thought about how you might look gagged and collared. 

Shit, he needed to get it together. Softening his demeanor for a moment, Joel loosened his grip and bent down to kiss the side of your sweaty face. 

“This okay darling?,” he whispered in your ear. 

You smiled, turning your head to capture his lips in a filthy kiss that had him shallowly thrusting into the tight fist of your wet cunt. Mouths panting as you pulled away, you wiggled your hips against him again. 

“M’sure daddy, feels so good. Be rough with me, I trust you,” you pleaded. 

Joel grinned, gripping your hair tight again and repositioning himself. He prodded at your entrance, moaning at how swollen and puffy your cunt looked. The hand not in your hair wrenched your cheeks apart and he watched as juices dripped down onto the floorboards below,  your holes winking at him as his smile grew. You whined and he was quick to slap your pussy. The sting made a guttural cry tear out of your chest as your knees began to shake. Joel laughed as your hips rocked forward and then back, body seemingly confused as to whether it should be pulling away or pushing back against him. 

“Hm, ‘think she liked that,” Joel observed, reaching out to gather your juices on his fingers before sucking them into his mouth. 

“I can’t - oh fu - Stop teasing or else I swear m’gonna - AH!,” a squeal echoed throughout the room as his hand came down on your slickened lips again. 

“Or else what baby, hm?,” the taunting in Joel’s voice made you clench as he pulled your hair again, “What are you gonna do? Rub that pussy against my things again? Gonna make daddy watch as you soak all the clothes you stole from him?”

You shook your head wildly, embarrassment making your cheeks burn but your pussy drool for him. It was a gamble, Joel degrading you like this, but boy was it paying off. With both hands, Joel slapped the sides of ass, making you choke on your spit and keen. He leaned forward and kissed your spine, taking mercy on you as you convulsed against the table. 

Joel chuckled, smoothing his bandaged hands over your reddened cheeks before he said, “Ask me nicely baby. Be a good girl and I’ll give you what you need. C’mon, know you can do it.” 

He gave you a second, letting you gulp down breaths as he ghosted his palms along the softer parts of your body. Your thighs, your stomach, your bruised hips, he gave attention to it all. For a moment, Joel wondered if he needed to elaborate on what he meant. After all, the entirety of your sex life had taken place in the span of less than 48 hours. But before he could rephrase his request, a small voice halted the words in his throat. 

“Please daddy, don’t tease me. I need you, I need - ungh - It hurts alpha, need you to make it better. I’ll be a good girl for you, I’ll let you play with my - mmmph - with my pussy whenever you want. Just please baby, please fuck me.” 

The plea made all the sense fly out of his head in an instant. With no warning whatsoever, Joel slammed his entire length into you. Not even giving you a second to breathe, he tugged your head up off the table by your hair and gripped your hip hard as he began to pound into you. The sounds coming from the two of you were ridiculously vulgar, a wet squelching sound came from your pussy as he spanked you again, his heavy sack slapping against your tender clit, moans and whimpers coming from the both of you. All of it had Joel pushing into you harder and faster. 

The brutality of his thrusts had the table scooting across the floorboards and he pulled your body up against his. You leaned your head back against his shoulder and he gave you a wet kiss on your cheek, panting as he grabbed one of your breasts and shoved his thumb into your mouth. Pressing down on your tongue, Joel had the satisfaction of feeling you squeeze him as you gagged. He huffed out a laugh, surprised as he felt you milk his cock so soon. 

“That soon babygirl? My cock making you feel that good huh?” he taunted. 

A muffled cry answered him as you sucked on his thumb. Joel hissed, his cock twitching inside of you as he felt you twirl your tongue around the tip of it. It made him think about how good you would look choking on his length as he fucked your face, but he pushed that thought to the side. For now, he needed to make you cum again. You whined as he pulled his thumb from your lips, mumbling nonsense at him as he moved the wet digit down your body. Goosebumps rose on your skin from the trail of spit his thumb left behind. Joel shushed you again, his pace doubling as his thumb started to rub tight circles over your clit. 

The joint in Joel’s jaw popped, his teeth gritting together hard as he felt his cock crying for release. He was so close, but he needed you to cum again before he lost it. Pressing his thumb down harder and rolling one of your nipples in his other hand, your whines turned to wheezes as his pace grew more erratic. 

“Nngh - that’s it sweetheart - FUCK - Oh my god baby, shit. Love how this pussy feels around me, love you so fucking much. G-gonna cum in you, fuck - gonna make you mine. Wanna fucking claim you - ah! My girl. My. Dirty. Fucking. Girl,” Joel babbled, last four words enunciated with mind breaking thrusts. 

You forced out a choked whimper that vaguely sounded like his name at his words. Joel marveled at how good you took him, slick steadily dripping down his thighs as he wrecked you. He grunted as your pussy began to lock up again, his balls tightening and knot catching at your entrance as he dragged you towards your peak. 

“Joel - oh fuck! I love - ugh- love you too. Pleaaase, oooh fuuck,” you wheezed. 

“Go on baby, fucking soak me. Oh shit - mmh - Show me how much you love my cock stretching you out. Cum for me sweet girl,” Joel ordered, spreading your lips between his soaked fingers with a V and bringing his palm down against your swollen clit hard. 

The slap to your pussy had you howling, slick gushing around him as he thrusted up once, twice, before he shoved his knot where it belonged. Joel held you against him, his vision spotting as you both crashed over the edge. You cried out as he grinded into you, overstimulation making tears prick at his eyes as he filled you over and over but he couldn’t stop. The pleasure was so intense that Joel lowered your upper body onto the table below, scared that he was going to fall to his knees as his mind went blank. He folded forward, blanketing himself over your shaking form and kissing at your neck. You tilted your neck, urging him to bite down as he continued his soft kisses.  

“Please Joel. C-Claim me. Wanna be yours,” you whined, pushing all of his buttons and making him release once more. 

Joel’s eyebrows were pinched together, a rumbling noise coming from his chest as he nipped at your gland. His mind raced with the request and he fought against his own instincts as he continued to ghost his teeth over the spot, not quite putting enough pressure into his nips to seal the deal. You keened and begged, earning another, more painful orgasm from him. 

“Darling, I can’t. Not right n-,” he started, sentence cut short from a loud sob. 

“But I-I -You don’t w-want me? M’no good? I want to be good, please! I can be so good for you. P-please alpha,” you sobbed. 

These cries were different and they sobered him quickly. With your heat and the rough pounding he had just given you, Joel knew you needed some extra care. Clumsily, with his legs still shaking, he lifted you. Groaning with the exertion, Joel suddenly felt very much his age as he stumbled forward. Almost tripping over a discarded boot, he managed to make it back to the couch and flopped down with you on top of him. 

He grimaced as you unknowingly crushed his balls beneath your weight, his knot burning with a pitiful release that had him panting against your hair. You mewled and weakly gripped his cock, still sobbing as you weakly came around him again. Joel swore, moving carefully as he got the both of you on your sides. Your body shook as you cried and he wrapped his arms around you, tangling his legs with yours as he hugged you tight. 

“Shhh sweet girl. That’s enough now. Course I want you, I’ll never want anyone but you ever again. Love you baby, ok? You did so good for me, so lucky to have you,” Joel praised, his words loving and soft. 

You sniffed and calmed slightly, still trembling against him. Unsure of what else to do, Joel leaned forward and kissed your neck again but it backfired immediately. An even more heartbreaking wail came from you and Joel began to panic as your sweet scent soured. 

“Y-you won’t claim me and I w-want you to be my,” a sob wracked your body before you could finish and he whined, the despair you felt seeping into him. 

Joel leaned forward and kissed at your cheeks, trying to pull you from your misery as he continued to whisper calming words into the dark room. 

“Darling, there is nothing I would rather do right now than bite down on that pretty neck of yours. Fuck, been thinking about it all day. Imagined how it’d feel for you to claim me, where you’d put your mark. I swear baby, there’s nothing I want more,” he confessed, head spinning as he let himself imagine it. 

“Then why -” 

“Because now ain’t the time. Not gonna let you make such a big decision when you’re in a heat, I’d never forgive myself. Baby, I love you. M’yours, I’ll always be yours. If you still want this when we’re right again, then we can talk about it. But not now honey, it wouldn’t be right,” he explained. 

Your crying slowly stopped as Joel continued to whisper sweet nothings into your ear, body melting into his as the words sunk in. 

“So,” you sniffed, “You would um… If my heat wasn’t a thing right now, you’d want to? You’d really want me like that? Forever?”

Joel leaned forward, nosing at your hair and breathing you in before he sighed, “I’ve never thought about claiming anyone, not until you. If that’s what you want after this, I’ll be there with bells and whistles on. Nothing I wouldn’t do to make you happy darling.” 

“You’d do anything to make me happy?,” you asked dreamily. 

He propped himself on his side, locking eyes with you as he pushed sweaty strands from your flushed face, “F’course honey, anything. What do you need? Tell me.”

You yawned, soft lips forming an O as you arched and stretched against him. Rubbing at your eyes, you hummed before looking back up at him. Joel smiled at your gaze, warmth spreading out from his chest and making his limbs numb. 

“I wanna nap with you and then I want you to make me something other than oatmeal please. Fucking hate oatmeal,” you grumbled, shoving him back down and pulling his arms around you again. 

Joel chuckled at that, snuggling against you as you matched his laugh. 

“Think that can be arranged sweetheart.”

With that you hummed, pulling one of his bandaged hands up to your lips and kissing it before closing your eyes. Despite the sweetness of the moment, Joel tried to stay awake. He was suddenly very aware of the open space he was in, but it was difficult as the last few rounds had exhausted him. In his younger years, he probably would be up and going again already, but now his knees ached and sleep lurked in the corners of his mind. He fought against it with every fiber of his being, needing to stay alert for your sake. 

Despite his attempts at fighting off sleep, Joel had come to realize that you could read him like a book. It was unnerving at times, as he was not used to being such an open book to anyone, but you picked up on his moods easily. Before Joel could spiral and trudge back out into the snow, he felt a hand reach back to scratch at his scalp. He groaned as his body grew heavier. 

“Stop thinking so hard Joel. Go to sleep.”

Joel tried to protest but it died in his throat, the hand in hair making his eyes droop no matter how hard he fought. He managed to murmur a soft love you before sleep took him, your quiet reply making him smile as he drifted off. 

Paul could wait until tomorrow. For now, Joel just needed you close to him. 

-

“Please, I don’t know anything about where she went! I already told you - agh!” 

“See, I want to believe you, omega. But it’s hard when I remember how close the two of you were. She even spoke out when you tried to run away from my brother.” 

Jake’s body shook, the cold air making the blood dripping from his broken nose turn freeze on his chest. He whimpered as Paul got closer, trying to shoot a pleading look at Cooper but it was no use. His mate was always complicit with whatever his brother wanted. He looked back at Jake with a mask of indifference, but he could see the twinkle of regret buried deep behind the cold pools of green. Cooper would apologize to him later as he cleaned the blood from his face, pitiful tears falling down the alpha’s face as he worked. Not that it mattered, Paul was always in control. 

Jake was brought back to reality as Paul gripped his hair, slamming him against the car. An oomph came from the omega as it knocked the air out of him. 

“You said that the two of you got separated when the infected ambushed the group. You saw that haggard old bitch and her mate get torn apart, then what? Where the fuck did she go?” Paul hissed as he shook Jake in his grasp. 

A yelp fell from Jake’s mouth as he was dropped on the frozen ground, his tailbone smarting as it smacked against the concrete. His whole body felt raw from running for weeks, dodging infected and raiders as he tried to find a safe place to lay his head at night. He was almost happy when he found Cooper. Sure, he wasn’t his first choice in mate but Cooper had never raised a hand against him. Jake had taken the first few steps towards his mate, tripping over the rotting clothes that littered the floor of the shop he had been holed up in. Cooper’s eyes had widened at him, motioning at him to stop and mouthing the word run. Jake was flabbergasted until Paul had come around the corner, then he understood. That was two weeks ago and Jake wished everyday that he had listened to Cooper, his absolute pushover of a mate. 

Everyday he was poked and prodded at by Paul, who was obsessed with the idea of getting you back. You slipping from his grasp had made him increasingly unpleasant. Just over a week ago, Jake had watched as Paul had threatened one of his men that questioned his search with a gun to his face. Cooper had sucked his teeth at that, shaking his head as he watched the greasy man stumble off in the direction Jake had seen you run towards. 

He couldn’t understand it. It’s not like you could’ve survived being out in the woods for so long, especially now with the snowstorm that had just swept through the trees. They probably wouldn’t even be able to find a body at this point. The thought made his vision grow blurry, his chest aching at the thought of his best friend's corpse buried beneath a blanket of snow, but he shook it off. Better you were dead than here with him. 

Paul sighed, walking back towards where Cooper stood and clapping him on the back. His mate winced slightly from the force of it but righted himself before Paul could notice. 

“You’re lucky you’re already mated Jakey-Jake or maybe I’d have to teach ya some manners. Clearly Coop here ain’t training ya right,” Paul sneered as he shook his little brother’s shoulder. 

Cooper blinked at that and Jake willed him to respond, to finally put an end to his brother’s behavior. But he just swallowed and looked down at his feet, kicking the snow with the heel of his boot. A wave of sadness washed over the omega as he watched Cooper’s hands turn to fists at his sides, gulping hard under Paul’s scrutiny. Seemingly satisfied with taunting his brother, Paul turned to Jake as he began to weep. His eyes narrowed once more as he walked back towards his trembling figure. 

“Full story from the top. Leave anything out and I’ll give you something to cry about.” 

[oathkeeper-of-tarth]

I am contributing a little piece about Aylin and her dear aunt Shar to the @bg3womenswrongs zine. Here's a sneak peek - a snippet from when it all began. Enjoy!

---

The Nightsinger becomes an aunt on a day that would have otherwise swiftly faded into the sheer vastness of her existence.

It is par for the course for her vapid sister; this insistence on life and creation, this blemish she sears into the world. Selûne's lurid intrusions writ small, contained to a single being. The puny scale is pitiable, when before her efforts resulted in teeming swarms and the cacophony of an entire universe under the burning sun she lit. Shar takes offence just the same, and so it will be snuffed out just the same.

A babe, conspicuously placed at the temple's entrance in a basket - not even a thing ostentatious and silver. No; plain wicker, with plainer wrappings to keep it warm against the autumn chill.

At the first cry that tears itself free from its garishly powerful lungs, as the wail goes on and on even as some poor moon-bedecked acolyte rushes out to fawn over the detestable little creature, Shar knows her one desire is to silence it forever.

-

The temple in whose care she was placed is put to the torch by ill-omened purple-clad figures before Aylin learns to walk. Enclave to enclave in secret, from temple to monastery to cloister, Aylin grows up hunted, a blazing target for agents of her Mother's greatest enemy.

She grows up honed to perfection, trained and taught and sharpened to an edge so keen it threatens to cut even when she might not mean it to. 

But she also grows up loved. Even if her Mother is a distant lodestar, She is present in ways Aylin does not think anyone understands, no matter how much she tries to explain, how deft with words she becomes in her efforts to convey the peculiarities of her own existence.

-

Selûne calls her handiwork daughter and whispers cloying sweetnesses to her as she sleeps.