#I’m saying autumn/winter next year… | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pparadiselost · 6 months

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crying wolf.

werewolf michael kaiser x red riding hood fem reader clichés always hold a grain of truth to them. warning(s): nsfw, noncon, murder of an uninvolved character, breeding, knotting minors do not interact.

a big bad wolf lives in the woods near your village.

that much you know.

the wolf has been the talk of the town for years now, and no matter how many men set off to kill the wolf or how many traps had been set up to catch it once and for all, the sly beast always managed to escape the trickery of your town.

there came a point where you stopped caring about it. you had no reason to step into the woods, satisfied with your quiet life in town, and outside of the stray sheep being killed and eaten every few months, the wolf really didn’t do anything to disturb your quality of life. it must suck to be a sheep farmer while this was all going down, but you weren’t a sheep farmer, so you didn’t care.

“you ought to be more careful!” the old cheesemonger’s wife scolds you as she hands you a generous chunk of cheese. “you know, the huntsmen are saying that they’re going to form an escort group in about a week’s time. shouldn’t you wait until then to go visit your grandma?”

you shake your head. “mama said i should go as soon as possible. grandma hasn’t been feeling well for a while, and ever since the whole wolf scare, we haven’t been able to visit her frequently. i just want to make sure she has enough food, because she can’t really do much herself.”

the old wife clicks her tongue and waggles her finger. “i keep telling my husband here, they really ought to catch that wolf quickly. this is how these things always begin. a couple sheep here and there, and next thing you know, the wolf’s run off with a toddler. who’s to say it won’t develop an appetite for a pretty girl like you?”

“oh, please.” you snort slightly. “the only things with an appetite for women like me are the drunkard sleazebags that waste their money away in the taverns.”

“well, you can say that again,” she laughs. she winks as she tucks you an extra slice of sweet cheese into your basket, and she waves you off before you finish off your errands and head home.

the chilled autumn breeze nips at your skin, and you huddle under the red cape your mother’s lovingly sewn for you. it’s become your best friend when winter starts to draw close, and you’ve worn the garment for years. you’re sure you’ll wear it in due time when you’ll set out through the woods to your grandmother’s, where the bright crimson ought to serve as an identifying beacon of sorts for your ailing grandmother.

the sun threatens to set in the distance by the time you gather up all your supplies and head to the outskirts of the village, where your home is. you double check the contents of your basket at your front door, not wanting your mother to scold you for having forgotten anything.

a bottle of hearty wine? check. loaves of bread that won’t go bad soon? check. cheese, meats, and fruits? check.

“i’m home!” you called out, swinging your front door open. your mother jumps and places a hand over her heart, exhaling deeply when she notices it’s just you.

“you scared the wits out of me, dear!” she scolds, stirring intensely at the pot in front of her. “a knock before you come in wouldn’t hurt, you know!”

“says the person who leaves the front door unlocked.” you toss your boots off and hang your cloak up, and you set down the heavy basket on the already set dining table. you swing in to a seat at the table, stomach growling at the scent of fresh stew. “i got everything for grandma tomorrow. is there anything else you need me to bring to her?”

“do you think i should pack some jam for her? i have a few jars that mr. ah… what’s his name again- well, he gave me some because his sister had made too much, and i reckon that your grandmother wouldn’t have too many sweet things to eat while she’s sick,” your mother suggests. you shrug, and she wipes her hands down on her apron before grabbing at the pot’s handle. “stay put where you are, dear. hot pot coming through!”

“i don't think it'll hurt. might as well bring it over if i’m headed there in the first place,” you offered. your mother smiles at you fondly as you practically lunge for the pot, spoon in hand to scarf down a well-deserved meal.

“slow down, or you’ll get a tummy ache,” she reminds you. you swipe at your mouth with your sleeve, earning a wince from her, but she doesn’t say anything. the night quickly melts away into the everyday hum of dinner followed by a quick berry pie dessert.

you haven’t even thought of the wolf until your mother tells you to go fetch the rest of the laundry she forgot to get earlier in the day. you balance a laundry basket on your hip as you drag your feet outside, wishing you were snuggled up in your bed with a book instead. the cold wind bites at your exposed neck and face, and you scowl as you haphazardly yank at the clothes and socks hung up on the laundry line.

“stupid wind,” you grumble under your breath. you stuff some shirts into the laundry basket, but when you reach to grab at the last pair of socks on the line, the wind tussles it free from the clothing pin and the socks go flying off in the distance. you let out a yelp before running after it, watching the white socks flutter like a pair of doves before landing onto the dirt.

“stupid, stupid wind!” you doubly curse as you bend down, yanking your nightclothes up so that the hem won’t be stained by the dirt. you reach to grab the socks before something in the ground catches your eye, and you shift to take a closer look.

your eyes widen in horror.

pawprints. wolf pawprints.

you shudder and quickly stand up, racing back to the safety of your laundry line and basket. the cursed beast must have been wandering around the wilderness near your home. a shiver runs down your spine at the thought of some stinky mutt of a wolf sniffing at your laundry, and once you see that there are no more clothes left on the line, you march back home and shut the door firmly behind you.

you have nothing to fear. you’re no sheep and definitely not meal material for the big bad wolf. you don’t even bring up the pawprints to your mother once you’re inside, and you don’t even think of the wolf again when you go to bed, bracing yourself for the long journey to your grandmother’s cottage tomorrow.

…

“do you have everything?”

“yes, mama.”

“are your boots comfortable?”

“yes, mama.”

“will the cloak be enough to keep you warm?”

“yes, mama.”

you swear the entire day’s going to be over by the time your mother’s done fretting over you. she’s not only gone over the contents of your basket once, twice, thrice, four goddamn times, and she’s still convinced that somehow she magically forgot to add everything to it. she keeps fretting over you, pulling the cloak tighter around your throat and making sure the hood covers your head comfortably.

deep down, you know she means well, but she keeps fussing over you like you’re a newborn baby. you’re old enough to take care of yourself, old enough to know how the world runs, old enough to stand on your own two feet without having her circling you like some kind of anxious mama bear. which she is, you suppose.

she kisses your forehead gently, looking at you with the weathered affectionate eyes only a mother could ever muster up. “i know you’re sick of me worrying over you like this. i can’t help it—you’re my baby.”

“i’ll be back before you even know it, mama,” you joke back. “and if i’m not back by dinner, you can assume i’ll be at grandma’s for the night. either way, i’ll be back by tomorrow for sure.”

“i’ll be waiting for you,” your mother promises. she clasps your hands, rubbing her calloused palms over yours. she squeezes your fingers carefully, grinning at you despite her obvious nerves. “my baby’s all grown up! going through the woods by herself and everything… what am i going to do when you actually leave the nest?”

“oh, you’ll be fine.” you hoist the heavy basket up, flashing your mother a thumbs-up. “i’ll be on my way then. i shouldn’t dally around too much, or it’ll get late.”

“right, right. i guess i’ll bake something to pass the time while you’re gone. maybe making your favorite pie ought to incentivize you to come home faster!” she agrees with a hearty laugh. you’re just about to turn around and set off before your mother cries out a panicked “wait!”

you look over your shoulder. “huh? what is it, mama?”

“i know this is probably just me fretting,” she looks at you firmly, and she wrings her hands slightly, “but it’s better safe than sorry. make sure to never wander from the main road, okay? you’ve heard about the wolf that’s been terrorizing our village. i don’t want to risk you getting hurt.”

you’d snark back at her a bit normally, but the pure fear in your mother’s eyes makes you bite your tongue for once. “i’ll stay strictly on the path, mama. besides, the wolf’s never taken a human before. and i’m sure there’ll be huntsmen and all sorts of other people out and about at this time of day, so i’ll be okay.”

“i know,” she sighs. “it’s a mother’s instinct. i can’t help but fret over you constantly.”

she waves you off, and you’re on the path to your grandmother’s before you even know it. the weather today is perfect: brisk refreshing air, a few cotton-white clouds in the bright blue sky, and the mischievous twinkles of sunlight streaming through forest trees’ branches.

truth be told, you like these solo adventures more than anything else in the world. living a quiet life in your village has its perks, but when everyone knows everybody, you rarely get a chance to set out by yourself without the scrutiny of your entire town on your back. you hum a little song while you skip through the beaten path in the woods, savoring the solitude. it shouldn’t take you more than a few hours to make the round trip, save for a quick lunch break in the middle and maybe a snack for the road at your grandmother’s abode.

you couldn’t be happier right now. the basket swings from the crook of your arm as you stroll through the woods, admiring the wilderness. a pair of butterflies flutter every now and then, and you can make out the melodic warbles of birdsong. you wonder if it’s mating season for the creatures; the closest you ever got to romance were the fairy tales in your book (your mother’s old hand-me-downs, from when she lived in the port city before moving her to marry your now-absent father) or the occasional wedding that took place in your village (the last one was 7 years ago, when the wheat grinder’s daughter married the postman. you pressed the flowers from your corsage between the pages of a heavy dictionary).

either way, you wish your village had more to show a young woman like yourself. everyone seems happy living their rustic life, and while you were satisfied with the peace that your mother strove so hard to provide you with, you knew that the world had more to show you.

and you crave it. just as the horizon of the woods seems to stretch on forever and ever, you wonder if there’s something beyond it just waiting for you.

maybe there ought to be a great marble castle, blinding white in the distance, complete with a prince charming inside atop his great steed. or maybe big markets with all sorts of treasures from afar! sometimes when a stray merchant stumbles across your town, you’d eavesdrop on the stories they’d tell to the little kids (you always dreamed about tasting the delicious spices they bragged about. cinnamon, was it? oh, that sounded fabulous).

but instead, you’re stuck with this bumfuck, hillbilly country town. there aren’t even any good looking guys here, and you know it’ll take at least a decade to convince your mother to let you move out away from the safety of her arms. the height of gossip here is a stupid wolf running around the woods. your village is so boring that they can’t even find a human to gossip about.

sweat dots your brow once you’re a good way into your journey. parts of the woods clear out into patches of grass or the sporadic lake, and your stomach starts growling slightly. you debate pushing yourself a bit further before you decide otherwise—your mother had packed you a delicious lunch, and it wouldn’t hurt to give your feet a quick break while you wolfed it down.

you scan the nearby woods for a clearing you could sit at, and after a few more feet of walking, you’re greeted with what looks like a meadow of wildflowers in the distance. you keep your eye on the main path before plopping down on the side of the beaten track, leaning your back against a tall tree.

‘lunchtime, lunchtime,’ you excitedly think to yourself as you peel back the cover of your basket. in the corner, all wrapped up, is a pair of sandwiches, a bottle of water, and a whole apple that your mother has prepared for you. the bright noon sun above your head indicates to you that it's the perfect time for lunch, and you lick your lips as you unwrap the sandwiches.

you go to town on your food. you have to force yourself to slow down a bit so you won’t choke on your food, and you listen to the back-and-forth of bird calls as you savor the taste of tasty bread. the crisp tanginess of the apple is welcomed by your tongue after you finish your sandwiches, and you chew thoughtlessly.

crunch.

‘hm?’ you don’t even move when the sound of rustling comes from behind you. it’s probably a deer or something. the sound of rustling wasn’t uncommon this deep into the woods, and huntsmen often told stories about daring foxes or squirrels that would venture close to the tracks to fight over scraps that other travelers had dropped.

crunch.

you swallow down the final bite of your apple, inwardly wishing you had more. you dangle the core in between your fingers, and you wonder if you should toss it into the woods. yeah, that wouldn’t be too bad, right?

crunch.

the birds could pick at it for a bit, and then maybe the bugs could enjoy the sweet treat. what use would you have for an apple core? you stand up, dusting yourself off the best you can, and without looking too far into the woods, you rev up your arm and throwing the apple core as far as you can into the trees with as much force as you can muster-

-only to hit something square on with the apple core.

you blanche. what did you just hit? you weren’t looking too closely, and you had expected the apple core to unceremoniously fall somewhere on the ground and be forgotten. but instead, something of considerable size lurks in the woods, and you hold your breath as you haphazardly grab your basket and your cloak, getting ready to run for it.

“ow…,” a boyish voice whimpers.

huh??? you freeze in your place, confusion flickering through your brain as a shadowy figure rustles around the place you had tossed the apple. a voice? you hadn’t expected that. you were supposed to be the only person here.

did you accidentally hit a wandering huntsman on accident?

“w-who’s there?” you call out. “come out and show yourself!”

“i was trying to-,” the voice grumbles. you hear footsteps and the crunching of breaking branches and leaves, and you keep your distance from the voice. the figure shifts closer to you. “-before you hit me in the face with your leftovers.”

your breath stops just short in your throat when you see a young boy around your age step out into the light. you clearly look confused—you’ve never seen him before, and no one’s mentioned anything about a boy this deep into the woods.

“who are you?” you ask, your own voice hushed. “i’ve never seen you before.”

“i should be asking you that,” he huffs. he folds his hands over his chest, and he pouts. “i want to know about you first.”

“i live in the village.” you point the way you came, down the path. you make the wise decision to casually leave out your name and any other important information you can. “are you from there too?”

he shakes his head. “i live in the woods.”

the woods! you’d never heard of anyone living in the woods. it was pure wilderness, dangerous and scary, no less for someone who wasn’t even a veteran wilderness expert! for someone that lived in the woods, the boy looks surprisingly well groomed. his long blond hair pools over his shoulder and down his chest, and it looks clean and well maintained. his cheeks are rosy and pink, and his bright blue eyes stare you down with a kind of pride you’ve never seen before.

“that’s dangerous, you know,” you point out. “there’s a wolf that's been running around these parts lately. it’s not safe for you to be out here all alone.”

he raises an eyebrow. “a wolf, huh?”

“yeah! it’s been killing sheep in my village. everyone’s been talking about it,” you remark. “i’d take you back to my village if i could, but i can’t.”

“i’m not welcome there,” he coldly remarks. his eyes narrow slightly, as if he’s leering at you. “besides, i wouldn’t want to live in a stupid village anyway. i’m happier on my own. everyone else and their stupidity would make me mad.”

annoyance shoots through you, and you shrug. “suit yourself. i can’t force you to go if you don’t want to. but i’d rather not have blood on my hands.”

“blood on your hands, huh?” the blond boy steps closer to you. “where are you headed to?”

“why do you want to know?”

“because it’s not often that i see a girl wandering around this deep by herself. you said it yourself: it’s dangerous out here.”

you hold your ground as he steps closer, circling around you. he’s tall when he stands at full height, almost enough to rival some of the tallest men in your village. his body is toned, most likely from living in pure wilderness for however long he has, and despite the lighthearted banter between the two of you, something in your gut swirls with anxiety when he prowls around like a wild animal.

“i’m headed somewhere,” you answer vaguely. “i have some stuff i gotta deliver.”

“and it’s that way, isn’t it? opposite your village?” he approaches closer, and you whimper when he sniffs at your ear. “lemme guess… that old lady’s house on the other side?”

your stomach drops. the boy grins, his sharp canines on full display when he sees the awestruck look on your face.

“bingo! you smell like her,” he laughs easily. “that’s a long journey for a pretty girl like you.”

you pull your cloak closer to yourself, instinctively wanting to shield yourself from the strange boy. “that’s enough! i’m going to get going.”

“sure, sure.” he sends you off, still grinning like he’s won some grand prize. “be careful out there though, darling.”

he cocks his head, watching you as you start running away from him. the blond smirks to himself, your sweet scent still clinging to his nose as your silhouette flickers from his view and then disappears into the distance.

“a wolf, huh?” he murmurs. he sounds amused, still thinking about the flabbergasted expressions on your face. something inside of him stirs sinisterly.

he’s hungry, he decides.

and suddenly, sheep meat doesn’t sound as appetizing anymore.

…

horror weighs on your heart like a brick thrown into a pond. it ripples and quivers violently, forming merciless waves that spread out, swallowing up anything in its path and leaving things warped in its wake.

your grandmother’s house is trashed. the windows are smashed in, and the front door is broken. your heart hammers in a panic, and your mouth goes dry. your pupils shake as you stand a distance away from the house.

your mind is blank. what happened? robbers? wild animals? a murderer?

you know deep down in your heart that the correct thing to do is turn on your heel and run, run until you find someone else, run until another person could take care of the issue for you. but your feet stay glued to the ground, and your thoughts swirl over with terrifying ideas.

your grandmother is inside! she’s a weak, defenseless lady, practically confined to her bed because of her old age and her illness… there was virtually nothing she could do to defend herself if anyone attacked her.

what if you were already too late?

“g-grandma…!” you cry out. your basket bounces next to you as you run into the house, tears clouding over your vision. the house seems too big, like it’s swallowing you up without the safety of your grandmother. the inside of the cottage looks just like the outside. furniture overturned, big claw marks etched into the walls, and absolutely no sign of your beloved grandmother.

your blood turns cold at the claw marks.

was it the wolf?

“grandma, if you can hear me, say something…!” you whisper, too scared to raise your voice properly. “o-or move something! grandma, you’re in here, right?”

your body trembles uncontrollably. the only room remaining that isn’t within clear sight is your grandmother’s bedroom. your gut tells you to leave immediately. you don’t want to go in there, but you have to. who’s going to help your grandmother if not for you? what if by the time you ran away and brought other people, it was too late for her?

your steps echo throughout the ruined house like the toll of church bells, and you press your lips into a thin line. you reach out for the door, which, despite its dilapidated state, somehow managed to stay partially attached to the hinges. you push, forcing your head to quit spinning from your fear.

“we meet again, darling!”

your heart drops to the ground. blood paints what seems like every inch of the room, and you immediately stumble backwards, tripping over your own feet and landing like a sack of potatoes onto the ground.

‘move…!’ your brain screams at your body. ‘get up and move!’

but you can’t. the scene unfurling in front of your eyes makes your limbs feel like they were made of lead. you can’t bring yourself to do anything. you can’t crawl, can’t scream, can’t do anything except stare back up at the blood-drenched young man that looms above you with a wolfish smile.

he licks his lips. he looks exactly as he did in the woods. tall, with long blond hair and dazzling blue eyes. except this time, there’s a pair of pointed wolf ears that sprout from the top of his head and a bushy tail in between his legs. he’s splashed with crimson, and his mouth is smeared the deepest red.

“see, i knew this was where you were headed to,” he laughs. “are you looking for the old lady that was in here? sorry to tell you, sweetheart, but i think i was a step ahead of you.”

you can’t bring yourself to breathe.

“you- you’re the wolf…,” you choke out. the smug smirk never leaves the boy’s face as he leers down at you, and another wave of pure dread drops like a deadweight into your stomach when he nods.

“about time you pieced it together, stupid girl.” the boy clicks his tongue mockingly. “i always watched that stupid village of yours get their panties all in a twist trying to catch me. i mean, human or not, did you guys really think you’d catch anything with stupid traps like that?”

you raise your arms instinctively when he leans down. “please don’t kill me…! i won’t say anything- please don’t eat me!”

he pauses, and he takes a long inhale. you clench your eyes shut, bracing yourself from the crunch of your bones under his sharp teeth, and for the smell of your blood to fill the room. this is it. this is how you die. another victim to the weird werewolf that had terrorized your town for god-knows-how-long, gobbled up mercilessly in the same way the boy had devoured your poor, helpless grandmother.

he laughs again, and you shudder. you tentatively peel your eyes open, only to scream when you see yourself at eye-level with him.

“did you think i was going to eat you too? nah, i’m not gonna do that to you. i’ve had my fill with that bony old grandma of yours.” he grabs your wrist, and you yelp when pain shoots up your arm. he yanks you up to your feet, and you shakily lean against him when he drags you into the heart of the scene of the crime. you don’t want to look at all the blood splattered against your now-dead grandmother’s bedroom, and the boy flings you like a ragdoll onto her bed.

he looks so monstrous, towering over your cowering form. in every other way, he looks like a normal human, like any other boy you’d see frolicking in your hometown, but his animalistic features betray him. the gleam in his eyes mark him as unmistakably a ruthless predator, and your heart feels like it's going to give out.

“what are you going to do to me?” you eke out. “are you going to take me hostage?”

“hostage? for what? do i look like the kind of person to bargain with stupid humans?” he snorts, and when he shakes his head at your foolishness, his long hair tumbles over his broad shoulders. you look like a deer caught in headlights as he clambers onto the bed, and he presses a hand on either side of your face as he cages you in between his body and the mattress.

he’s smiling, but you can’t detect any trace of goodwill or kindness on his face. “do you really want to know what i’m going to do with you, my darling?”

you didn’t know how to respond. he leans down to your level, and you whimper when you can smell the stench of blood and death on his mouth. despite this, he presses his lips against the outline of your jaw, and you quiver underneath the boy as his tongue darts out to lick at your skin.

“i’m going to make you my mate.”

your head feels like it’s caving in.

“what-?” you flinch. “no- no, no- nonono- you can’t do that… i can’t- no, i can’t do that! i can’t be your mate…!”

he narrows his eyes, yet his lips never leave your face. he keeps kissing you greedily, and you push at him to no avail, unable to wrench his heavier, stronger body off of you. you start sobbing and crying out, yet the boy pays no attention to you as his mouth tastes your skin like a starved man.

“be good, or i’ll force you. you wouldn’t want that, would you? i don’t want to hurt a pretty thing like you,” he hisses. you sniffle and swallow back your oncoming sobs and you avert your eyes.

“i promise i’ll be gentle. besides, i’m way better looking than any of the men in your village,” he attempts to cheer you up. “c’mon. look at me. isn’t something like this more exciting than a drab country wedding? i’ll treat you like a princess. just love me, darling. does it matter if i’m a wolf or not?”

“you’re a wolf that kills! i don’t want to be with someone like you!”

he frowns, and his hands move to your cloak. your heart pounds painfully against your chest as his fingers twist at the material. your mother’s painstaking handiwork dissolves like sugar in water under his grip, and you know moving to defend yourself is futile. he quickly shreds your clothes as you cry quietly.

“you would do this too, if you were me.” his fingers trace over the bare skin of your collarbones and dip towards your breasts. his hands are sticky and warm against the chill of your body, and he cups your chest. it’s insane, how well your body fits into his big palms. he watches you with lust-stricken eyes, and his cock strains against his pants when he sees your tears wetting your pretty face and you laying there underneath him, not bothering to fight him off.

he knows. he knows you’re being obedient out of fear rather than true submission, but it’s good enough for him.

“i’m lonely,” he whispers. “you don’t know how it feels. having to kill to live. having to stay in the shadows. having to always yearn from afar because all of those stupid humans can’t see that i’m more similar to them than i am different.”

“t-that’s no reason to ruin my life…!” you protest. it’s a last ditch effort, but you shakily inhale anyway. “please… let me go. we can pretend like none of this happened. i promise i won’t tell anyone anything. i’ll give you my word. just… i can’t be a wolf’s wife- i can’t- i can’t do that-”

he shakes his head. “i want you. you talked to me in the forest. offered me help. treated me like a normal boy my age. i was too scared, so i hid my ears and tail, and you were none the wiser. that- that’s enough proof, isn’t it? that with enough time, you’d come to love me for who i am…”

you let out a strangled cry as a hand starts groping your tits, rough fingers brushing over your sensitive nipples. it feels foreign, having your boobs touched like this, but a dull heat thrums deep inside your stomach. the boy looks entranced as he stares down at your form. the way your plush chest molds and bends to his hands makes him desire you even more, even if he’s aware that you’re terrified to death of him.

“i can’t let you go. i can’t,” he doubles down. any of the remorse you had managed to wrench out of him disappears bit by bit, and he groans as he paws at your body greedily. “god, you’re just so pretty… i have to have you.”

you clench your thighs together. his lips meet yours, and you nearly vomit at the taste of iron on your mouth. he’s clumsy, but he kisses you so hungrily, eager to lap up any semblance of affection. you grip at the sheets as his hot tongue swipes at your closed lips, and you’re determined to deny him. he frowns into the kiss, and you feel a twinge of pride well up.

the wolf exhales angrily. the hand that’s been roaming your chest twists at your nipple harshly. you yelp at the pain, and the boy shoves his tongue into your mouth, moaning into the kiss. you start thrashing slightly. he doesn’t heed any mind to your discomfort, and if anything, he begins grinding his clothed hips against your thighs.

he can’t get enough of how you feel. your kisses are like honey to his mouth, and his body melts at the feeling of you against him. you know he’s going to leave bruises all over your tits from how hard he’s grabbing at them, but despite everything that’s overwhelming you, the heat that pounds against your core only builds.

you can’t breathe. you clench your eyes shut and try to bear it, try to work through the sparks of pleasure that cloud your mind from having your breasts molested, as the wolf kisses you how he wants you. your mouth tastes foul when he finally pulls away, and a string of saliva connects the two of you momentarily.

you glare up at him.

“i want to fuck you…,” his voice trails off. “i want to fuck you so bad. but i have to be gentle. i promised to treat you well…”

your pussy curls at the thought of taking the wolf’s dick. he bucks his clothed erection higher and higher up your legs, and he moans shamelessly into your mouth as he kisses you again. he slobbers all over your mouth like a feral dog, his tongue slithering into your throat like he’s fucking your mouth.

you don’t enjoy this. you don’t want this at all. yet you can’t ignore the throb that pulses at your core, the way your walls squeeze every now and then painfully against nothing. you’re not turned on by this—you’re not. you want to convince yourself of that so badly, but every time you realize the situation you’re put in, pinned down to a bed with a werewolf that wants to stuff every inch of his dirty cock into your cunt, arousal swirls inside your body.

his hands trickle down to your pants, and fear pricks sharply at your heart.

“i’ll be a good mate.” he peels the rest of your clothes off, mimicking the gentleness of a human lover the best he can. “i can be like a real human husband. no, i can be better. i know i can be better than any of those stupid boys in your village.”

you shudder when cold air rushes at your bare cunt. the slick that coats your slit is undeniable, and the boy’s pupils widen at the sight. he swallows, and you watch as his neck bobs. even by human standards, he’s handsome, and your body betrays your mind as he coaxes your thighs open.

“you want me too, don’t you?” he asks. he offers a weak smile. it’s almost sickening, how someone who mercilessly took everything from you can pretend to be a human in hopes that you’d grant him any pity. “i’ll make you feel good. i’ll be everything you want me to be.”

he lets go of your legs, and he grabs at his own clothes, shredding them apart. he groans when his cock springs free of his pants.

your heart drops into your stomach.

“i-i can’t take that-,” you choke out. “that’s too big! you’ll kill me- i’m not kidding…!”

he tilts his head to the side, and he shrugs. his cock is inhumanly huge, and if he were to put that inside your cunt, you swear that you’d be able to feel it in your throat. it’s long and thick and swollen up to an angry red. a few prominent veins run along his length, eager to stuff itself into your soft and vulnerable cunt. his balls hang heavy and big, undoubtedly filled with all the cum that he wants to fuck into you.

he grabs at your thighs again, and you squeal loudly in protest as he keeps you pinned in place.

“stay still-,” he grunts, “it’ll hurt less if you stop squirming like that! you’ll get used to it with time. it might hurt a little, but it’ll feel good with time… now shut up, and let me fuck you already-”

you grit your teeth and brace yourself as he starts rubbing his length against your lower lips. he moans softly, savoring the way your warm body feels against him. you can feel his cock twitch dangerously against your folds, and you whimper in a mix of pleasure, disgust, and fear whenever his cockhead catches at your sensitive clit.

he lines his cock up at your fluttering hole, and you stop breathing. your chest feels tight, and your head feels blown out. you prep yourself for the oncoming pain, but he pauses for a moment.

“give me your name.”

you blink. “huh?”

“if- if i’m going to take you to be my mate, i should know your name at least. before i do this,” he whispers sheepishly. your stomach twists with hatred. why should he care? he’s going to do all of these horrible things to you, so why is he even bothering to pretend to play the act of a caring lover?

“yours first,” you hiss. “if a wolf like you even has a name.”

“i do.” his response surprises you. “michael. it’s michael. i have a human name like you do. i heard that it means ‘he who is like god.’ now tell me yours.”

you lay there for a moment, dumbfounded. you didn’t expect a monster like him to have a label like that. and less so a name as blessed as “michael.”

you hang your head. “...(y/n).”

he hums, and you flinch when his cockhead threatens to break into your hole. “it’s a pretty name. a perfect name for a perfect mate.”

you bite the inside of your mouth and properly brace yourself. he pushes his hips in slowly, his gaze fixed on where his cock connects with your pussy. you weren’t sure exactly what you were expecting, but the pain comes faster than you thought. it burns and stretches, and you cry out, stiffening and lashing out, trying to get him off of you.

“hurts…! ‘t hurts-!!” you screech. you pound and claw at his shoulders, yelling and immediately bursting into another onslaught of tears. the tears are hot and heavy as they trickle down your face, and your legs shake uncontrollably. it genuinely feels like he’s splitting you into two, and the torturous pain makes your head flash white.

michael nearly falls on top of you. your cunt is disgustingly warm and inviting, and it stretches out and envelops him. it’s hot and wet and tight, and despite your constant protests, your pussy is heavenly around his cock. you’re so small, and he knows his wolf cock is about to break you. but god—he wants to break you. if breaking you feels this good, he’ll eagerly shatter you into a million pieces so that he has the depraved honor of being the one to destroy you and strip you of your humanity.

he clenches his jaw. he couldn’t lose his mind. not like this, not when his endgame was right there. “take it. i’m going to be your mate, so you better get used to taking my dick and get used to it fast.”

you hold back a strangled sob. your tears are freeflowing, and it’s hard to breathe. his cock feels like it’s pressing straight up against your womb, and he’s not even giving you the mercy of adjusting to his size slowly. his length invades every inch of your cunt, and his ridiculous girth has you stretched out thin. you know you can’t take this. he’s actively molding your tight hole into the shape of his cock, and if he keeps himself in here any longer, you might actually go insane.

your words slur sloppily. “you’ll kill me- you’ll fuck me to death-”

his breathing is strained just from the pleasure of putting it in, but he still manages to snort at you mockingly. “you won’t die. no one’s ever died from sex.”

you wish you had the spirit to shout back at him, to put up more of a fight. but that instinct has been long extinguished at this point, and you’re nothing more than a sniveling mess as you struggle to breathe through the tightness in your chest.

“c’mon, don’t be boring now.” he truly can’t get enough of the sight. the pretty girl from the village, face stained with tears, legs spread out all for him to fuck into her pretty cunt. to put it as frankly as he can, the boy doesn’t know what he wants to do first with you.

the sweeter part of him wants to kiss away your tears, to comfort you the best he can with a low voice and whisper his undying love to you, to convince you that a life as a wolf’s wife won’t be all that bad. you’ve caught his eye for a reason, and he wouldn’t want to have you snatch away whatever dregs of humanity the hybrid wolfboy was clinging desperately too. even if everyone else regarded him to be some kind of barbaric monster, deep down, even he has a soul that yearns painfully for love. for a romantic partner that could accept him as an equal and open their heart up to him.

but maybe this other part of him is what makes him a monster.

he loves seeing you reduced to this broken mess. he enjoys it, the primal fear that’s evident on every inch of your face. the way you’re nothing more than prey in his arms, with no other choice but to let him fuck your tight pussy out on his monstruous cock, to be the direct cause of all the pain and anguish you’re going through and to enjoy it like it’s the thrill of a fresh kill… it makes the wolfish streak inside of him go wild with delight, and he wants to keep you pinned down and helpless underneath him so he can soak up that bliss a little longer.

your stomach coils up on itself when you feel him slide his hips back slowly. the strangled noise that leaves your mouth is a mix between a pained shriek and a pleasured moan. he’s really too much for you to fit inside, and your strained walls cling to his cock. you’re barely hanging on for dear life just from him penetrating you. you can’t even imagine what it would be like once he would start actually thrusting and having sex with you.

“ahhh, you’re just too cute,” he teases you. “i never knew love could feel like this… it’s so good, isn’t it? no regular human dick could even come close to what i’ll make you feel, my little wife.”

you sob as he slowly bullies his cock back into you, once more making sure that you can properly feel the torturous stretch. the pain wobbles dangerously on edging you towards pleasure, and your vision blurs over slightly as the mounting heat in your gut tightens up. it’s gross, it’s inhuman that you’re getting off on having sex with a wolf, but your own self-restraint is being tested with the small cries you’re letting out.

“ah-,” you pathetically squeak out, “ahh…! michael- michael, please- i can’t do this!”

“yes, you can,” he promptly corrects you. his thrusts are shallow, granting you the rare mercy of sparing you from being speared in half on his entire length. “look at you… you’re starting to feel good, aren’t you? i can feel everything… that little cunt of yours won’t stop tightening up around me. you’re squeezing so much! it’s like your pussy knows better than you who you’re meant to be with.”

your mind shakes. it’s all you can do to keep yourself conscious. all the stimuli are too much: the anxiety, the pleasure, the adrenaline. your thoughts are being smoothed over, all logic coming to a screeching halt as the tightness welling up in your womb is all that your body can focus on. you hate how easily his name falls out of your mouth, how easily you find it to moan, and the wolfboy eagerly devours the attention you give him.

how angelic you must look to him right now! his mate, his precious mate, moaning out his name in pleasure, no matter how terrified they are of him! he moans softly too, and he can’t help but buck his hips deeper and harder into you. your voice and all your little noises are too adorable to him, and he just wants it all.

“you like it, don’t you? yeah, i know it’s starting to feel good. give in to me. you don’t have to do anything but let me have my way.” his breath is hot and heavy and tinged with the sharp tang of blood. you cringe when he kisses at your neck and cheeks again, but with how rapidly his hips are picking up at the rhythm, your thighs tremble dangerously. “i’ll make you cum again and again… oh, you’re just so lovely…”

your cunt sucks him in greedily. feeling his cock rub against your walls and prod dangerously at your cervix makes you grow blank, and your body keeps reacting more and more to what the wolfboy is doing to you. you wonder if this is what people mean when they say they’re being fucked stupid, and if it isn’t, whatever he’s doing to you is coming horribly close.

“fuck…! fuck- no- michael- michael, please-,” you whimper out. you two both know perfectly well that your cries are from how good it feels, but you still refuse to verbalize it properly. michael smiles into the curve of your throat, and he kisses your jugular with what you can only describe as a sickly kind of affection.

“what are you asking for, my love?” he chuckles endearingly. you sob, and your toes curl into the disheveled bed when his cock slides into you just right. your vision skews its axis slightly, and you let out a sharp exhale, mouth lolling open a little. he nips at your skin with his sharp teeth to snap you back to life. “tell me properly with those human words you’re so proud of. ‘please fuck me harder, michael! make love to your wife! give me more of your cock!’”

your cheeks burn with humiliation when he ridicules you, but deep down, you don’t know if you can wholeheartedly refute him. you do want more of him. you do want him to fuck you harder. your cunt purrs in delight every time he slides in and out of your slick hole, and his cock manages to ruthlessly hit all the right places.

it’s unfair. it’s unfair how everything’s stacked against you.

you must have ignored him for too long. michael frowns disapprovingly, and a low growl vibrates in his throat. he ducks his head and bites down on your shoulder, sharp teeth digging themselves into the curves of your soft flesh. you scream out in pain, your walls clamping down on him and another flurry of torturous pleasure shreds your stomach.

“p-please fuck me harder, michael…!” you’re fully crying. your words don’t sound like your own, and you certainly don’t feel like yourself. the tears and snot smeared all over your face makes you feel like some lowlife, and you hate the way he forces you to beg for him. “make love to me… give me- give me more of your cock!”

“see?” he licks his lips, and he grins devilishly as you as he pulls away from your now-marked shoulder. “that wasn’t so bad, was it? nothing wrong with you for wanting more from your husband. i’ll gladly indulge my darling.”

a shaky scream pounds at your chest, and blinding hot pleasure overwhelms your head as he picks up his pace. your moans reach a high-pitched squeal as he fucks himself into you, his cock rapidly pulling in and out of your pulsing hole. it’s not like you make it particularly easy for him either; your disgustingly tight pussy walls cling to him and almost refuse to let him go.

does your body love his dick that much? does your cunt want to savor the feeling of him stretching it out that badly? those thoughts make kaiser swell with pride as he reaches a fast rhythm. despite how sloppily and quickly he’s ramming his whole length into you to make sure you feel every single bit of his dick, he still makes sure that each thrust has his heavy cockhead drilling right at your womb.

he prods at your deepest parts, shamelessly making sure that your womb knows it’s time to be bred. it’s time for him to fill you up with his cum, to fuck a baby into you, to force every part of your body to be tainted with him. from inside and out, from outside to in, kaiser wants to selfishly claim every part of you. that’s what good husbands do to their wives, don’t they? that’s what your folk—the human folk—did, right?

the tightness that gnaws at your core refuses to relent. your arousal runs rampant through your veins, and it feels like your guts are tying themselves into a knot. you don’t know how else to describe the heat that mounts in your core and inside your head. your body and conscience are at odds with each other. your brain rejects michael, your mouth begs for him to hold you and fuck you harder, and your hole sucks him in like it doesn’t want to let go.

“that’s my pretty wife. you have such a fucking slutty body- begging for your husband feels good, yeah? i know, i know, darling,” he drinks up your tears, his hot tongue lapping languidly at your face. you choke back another sob, and he moves to steal a kiss. his tongue invades your mouth, and your eyes gloss over. you’re overwhelmed with his presence. it smells like him, tastes like him, feels like him. you’re crying out and mewling in pleasure into his mouth, and he literally eats up every single one of your lewd noises.

his balls slap against your ass, desperate to empty themselves into you. his cock twitches and throbs inside you, making you shudder in delight. it’s a sick kind of lovemaking, if you could even call it that. your own slick dribbles down between your legs, and the lubrication only makes it easier for michael to greedily shove his cock into your fluttering cunt.

“can’t take anymore- michael, ‘m gonna lose my mind-!” you breathe out. you hate to admit it. you don’t want to tell him how stupidly close you are. you blame how monstrously huge his cock is; how else would he be destroying your body in such an inhuman way? your vision is unstable, blurring even more around your teary edges, and the heat that licks inside of you is unbearable.

michael knows it. he can feel it. the way the velvety lining of your cunt coaxes his cock right up to your cervix, the way it keeps squeezing him and writhing around his sensitive inches, the way your own voice seems to hike higher and higher. your legs tremble underneath him, and michael is thrilled to know just how far he’s successfully broken you. the shame and embarrassment that’s scribbled all over your face makes him almost uncontrollably giddy.

“are you gonna cum, darling? did my cock make you feel that good?” he laughs mockingly. his words are like thorns against your ears, yet with how roughly he’s pounding into your pussy, having mounted you like the uncivilized animal he was, you couldn’t deny it. he’s a predator through and through, and with you trapped in his reach like prey, you know all too well that he’ll be moving in for the kill soon.

the insatiable tightness inside you teeters on the brink. you’re barely holding on, each breath growing more strained than the last. michael doesn’t let up his pace, continuing to rut into you. each snap of his hips has you close, so close, so fucking close—you don’t want him to stop. you clench your eyes shut, bracing yourself to hurtle headfirst into the crash, to topple finally past the point of no return where you would irrevocably become the wolf’s.

“i’m cumming…! ah- michael- cumming- cumming…!”

heat rips through your body in half. you throw your head back, the foreign feeling consuming you whole as if you had been thrown directly into fire. your cunt clamps down on the boy’s cock, and it feels like he’s about to split you into two. your vision completely blurs, and the world rushes around your senses. it’s too much yet not enough at the same time, and you rake your nails down the wolf’s bare back with such a fervor that you must have shredded up his skin and drawn blood.

you shake and squirm and thrash underneath him, but no matter how much you writhe against his body, michael won’t let his grip on you go. he relentlessly fucks you through your orgasm, leaving you a sobbing mess as your juices squirt out of your abused hole and drip down onto the shaky bed. his cock pounds harder and harder, and he groans out as he feels your slick and pulsing walls flutter and clench around him.

“hah- that’s what i thought-,” he chuckles. you can’t breathe. you can’t think. the incessant throbbing in your stomach is still there, but it’s morphed from arousal into something a little more painful. he’s overstimulating your already overrun cunt. “your husband’s dick is that good, isn’t it? don’t worry; i’ll fuck you like this as much as you want… i’ll get you to cum over and over again.”

you dumbly shake your head. your head is foggy, and the throes of your climax don’t want to let you go. “n-o… can’t take any more- no more- don’t want any more…!”

“you’re going to take it, like the good wife you are. you don’t get a choice in this. i’m your husband,” he snarls. you shudder, whimpering in weak protest as he continues using you. it hurts, and it burns, and the coil that refuses to let up in your stomach makes you feel sick. how much longer could this monster last? it feels like he’s been having sex and using your body forever, but even after ripping an earth-shattering orgasm from you, he still hasn’t cum yet.

“it hurts- i can’t do it…!” you smack at his chest again, but you know he won’t let you go. your tears sparkle cruelly on your cheeks, and michael sighs lovingly as he laps at your face. he swings back and forth constantly between treating you like you were a mere bug to cherishing you. was this some kind of karmic revenge from the universe for thinking so lowly of your own village? the home that seemed so far away now?

“take it- take it- fuck- let me make you my proper wife…” fear floods your body when you can feel his cock twitch dangerously deep inside you, your bruised cervix contracting and sucking him in. his balls tighten and continue to slap against your ass, but with how quickly and frantic his movements are, he’s going to cum. “fill you up with my pups… we’ll be such a happy family together-”

your eyes shoot open. cold reality splashes over you as if slapping you back to your senses, even in the midst of being manhandled. “no! no, no…! don’t! please, please, michael- that’s the one thing you can’t do! don’t cum inside- i don’t want to get pregnant with your babies!”

he grits his teeth, and he presses his entire body weight on top of you, determined to keep you physically where you are. he’s determined to make sure you can’t escape from his grasp, as if you’d be able to go anywhere with how disheveled and haunted you are. it’s a good look for you, second only to the loving glances he knows you’d never spare him.

“shut up, shut up…! this is your job, this is what you’re supposed to do! this is what lovers do!” he thrusts once, twice, and when he brings his hips down one final time, your fate is sealed. his own cry dies out, buried deep inside his throat as he cums deep and hard into you. your breath lodges into your neck, leaving you with nothing but bitter defeat and the taste of uncertainty all over your mouth.

his cum spurts everywhere, and it floods your womb. it burns and goes everywhere, painting your insides a pretty shade of ivory white, and you can feel every drop of it flowing into you. it’s poison, it’s heavy, and it’s awful, yet your cunt has no choice but to take every little bit of it. you bite down on the inside of your cheek as it starts to eke out, and you force yourself to endure it. you have no choice but to; this is what survival is for you now. this is the only answer you have now.

you don’t know how you’re going to live with this. you try to console yourself by telling yourself that you had gotten over the worst, but you know that you haven’t. you never will.

“nnghg…!” a stray cry slips from your mouth when something tight and way too big for you to take invades your strained hole. a sharp pain invades and spearheads through you, and your entire body stiffens as his large knot shoves its way into your plush and stretched out pussy. his cum overwhelms your body, stretching out every inch of your battered womb. your stomach bulges just slightly, feeling stuffed to the very brim.

michael nearly collapses on top of you, keeping you folded in half and in a perfect, vulnerable breeding position. his eyes are blown open wide and glossed over in a kind of drunken stupor, yet he refuses to let you go in any capacity. it’s not like you have the physical means to anyway; you’re already so weak from having him force himself onto you, and the pain of being bred and knotted is taking everything in you to not pass out right there and then.

he reaches towards your face, cupping your tear-stained and broken expression with his large palm. you don’t know if the feeling that stirs in your gut is simply the aftershocks of sex or pity towards yourself, but seeing michael look down at you with such a triumphant yet lovestricken gaze isn’t doing your any favors. you know you have no choice but to get pregnant with his children, to watch in horror as your body turns into nothing but a host for these parasites he’s determined to fuck into you over and over, not a single squeeze of semen going to waste with the knot he’s plugged you up with.

“we’ll be perfect together,” he whispers. his words are almost like a mantra he’s brainwashing you with. you wonder who needs it more, the manipulator or the one being manipulated. everything feels like a punishment to you. just where did you go wrong? were you too ambitious for your own good? too hopeful? too willing to jump at the first opportunity for escape that came your way, not caring to see if any part of the rosy details were traps?

or maybe the worst part was that you might have done nothing wrong at all. maybe this was all a twisted machination of the universe. maybe just like what michael believed, you were destined to fall into the wolf’s grasp one way or another, to disappear from the face of society and the world as you knew it, to have him drag you off into the darkness and to become the broken but beautiful wolf’s bride that he must have dreamt of forever.

“i love you.” he kisses you, and you don’t have the strength nor the courage to say those blasted words back to him. it’s not like you could say them back sincerely either. instead you avert his gaze, turning your face towards the red scraps of your cloak that lay on the ground as if they were miniature corpses of their own, left over from a long lost war.

you hope your mother can forgive you when she realizes you won't ever come back home.

KINKTOBER 2023—le cinquième jour, le dernier jour.

#blue lock #blue lock x reader #blue lock smut #bllk #bllk x reader #bllk smut #michael kaiser #x reader #my writing

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dccomicsimagines · 1 year

Text

Hello There - Jon Kent x Reader

Requested by Anon - hello! i love your works, you are an excelent writer :D! Can i request an one shot were batsis (from fitting in) and jon fall in love? she highkey deserves a fairy tale romance and i think bruce and damian reactions would be very funny haha

Requested by Anon - I know you basically just finished one big Jon x reader, but do you think could please make another fic or headcannon with him? It could about anything you choose. 👉🏼👈🏼 (P.S. - it's been said already but I'll say it again; WILIF is m a s t e r p i e c e ✨)

Author’s Note - This took me a year to write. Happy Holidays!

***

You bit your lip as you left your biology lab and headed outside to the sprawling campus of Metropolis University. The air was crisp and fresh as it always was late autumn. It was warmer in Metropolis than it was in Gotham. You theorized it was because the sun shined more here.

Your phone beeped. Your next class wasn’t for another hour and you planned to use this time to finish your paper for Medieval Literature. A sigh escaped you. You pulled out your phone, looking at it as you walked.

‘Are you coming home this weekend?’ You held back an eye roll. Your father couldn’t leave you alone, could he?

‘No, I have plans here. I’ll be back in a month for winter break.’ You looked up to avoid walking into a group of women exiting the library. A smile pulled at your lips. You could show him your medieval lit paper then. Your plan was to write how Beowulf's preoccupation with glory led to the current glorification of superheroes. The look on Bruce’s face would be priceless.

It took him a long time to answer to the point where you were expecting a call from him. However, you only got another text. ‘Be safe.’

You snorted, smiling. That was as close to I love you that Bruce Wayne got. ‘Love you, Dad.’

Just as you hit send, you ran straight into what felt like a brick wall and toppled back to land hard on your butt. The jolt went straight through your bones painfully. You grunted. “I’m so sorry,” a male voice said. A hand appeared in your vision. You eyed it.

“No, I’m sorry. I was texting and walking.” You took the hand after a moment and got to your feet. Your butt hurt a lot. It was going to bruise. You finally looked at the man you ran into. Your breath vaporized from your lungs.

He had the prettiest blue eyes with rich black hair. His smile was big, head tilted like a curious puppy. You couldn’t stop yourself from smiling back at him. “Are you hurt?” He kept your hand a second too long. You felt your face burn.

“No, I’ll be fine.” You pulled your hand away and brushed off your clothes. He looked familiar for some reason. “Have we met before?”

It was his turn to blush as he flicked his head to get the hair out of his eyes. “We’re in the Physics of Star Trek class together.” You bit your lip. Right, that class you took because Tim saw it when you were picking classes and begged you to take it for him. At least it counted as a general course and to be honest, it was pretty cool.

“Oh, you were the one who tried to argue that Superman’s laser eyes were basically the same concept as Star Trek’s phasers.” You shook your head. “Who would have thought that would cause a debate that took the entire class period?”

“I know, right?” He grinned brightly, shifting on his feet. “Well, I was about to get some food from the cafeteria? Would you like to join me?”

You thought about the work you were going to do, but then you remembered how you promised Alfred that you would try to enjoy yourself. “Sure,” you said, turning to walk beside him. “What was your name again? I’m (Y/N) (Y/L/N).” Luckily, Bruce let you enroll under your mother’s name to keep you safe from the dangers that came with the Wayne name.

“I’m Jon Kent.” He held the door to the cafeteria for you. “It’s nice to meet you, (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

You laughed, heading inside with Jon right behind you.

***

The next day in the Star Trek class, you found Jon sitting next to you with that same dopey, puppy grin on his face. Your heart fluttered when his arm brushed against yours by accident as he raised his hand to start another controversial debate. Jon got a kick out of it. You felt it was some kind of inside joke for him. Maybe he’d explain it to you some day.

After class, Jon walked out with you. “So that was my last class for today. What about you?” he asked, looking at you with his full attention.

“Oh, well it’s the last class for me too.” You smiled when you saw his eyes sparkle at your words.

“Great!” He blushed when he realized he was shouting. His voice softened. “Would you like to go downtown with me? It’s student night at the movie theater. Five dollar tickets.” He chuckled nervously. “The new Transformers movie came out or if you wanted to see something else, I’m game.”

You eyed him, feeling lighter than air. Why did this feel so surreal? Like you were in a movie and this was a classic romance. “Sure.” Your heart skipped a beat when he practically exploded with energy.

“Awesome!” He hopped over a crack in the sidewalk. You swore he floated for a second before he landed.

“I want to drop my stuff off first, so I’ll meet you outside Gnanatti Hall in a half an hour?” You turned away from him, headed toward your dorm.

“Yeah! I’ll see you there.” Jon waved happily at you. You waved back, blushing when you saw people were watching you two. A girl laughed with her friends that Jon was like a lovesick puppy. You felt a wave of doubt flow through you. Could Jon like you like that? You shrugged, deciding not to focus on that right now.

***

Your roommate lounged on their bed, watching you primp yourself in the mirror. “You have a date or something?”

“Maybe? I don’t know.” You shrugged, finishing the last touches on your makeup. It did feel like a date, didn’t it? “I just want to look good anyway in case.”

“Well, if you need the room, just text me. I can go hang out with Taylor in her room, but just don’t be all night,” your roommate said, getting up to grab their laptop.

You wrinkled your nose. “I don’t think it will come to that.” Your heart sank about the idea of being so loose. Besides, you didn’t think Jon was just trying to get into your pants anyway. “But thanks.”

“Sure.” Your roommate opened their laptop and started working on homework. You gathered your purse and phone. “Call me if you need an out.”

“Thanks.” You waved at them and headed out. To think, your dad almost insisted on paying for a private room, but you wanted to have the full experience. Alfred agreed with you. Bruce couldn’t do anything after that.

You glanced at your phone as you headed down the stairs to see a text from Damian. It was a photo of Titus. You sent him a heart back and told him to give him a pet for you. Damian always reached out with Titus as an excuse as if he couldn’t handle missing you himself.

Jon was outside the dorm, bouncing from foot to foot. He grinned when he saw you, nervous energy bouncing off him. You waved and went to meet him. “You look beautiful,” he said, eyes going from your feet to your face several times.

“Thanks.” Your cheeks burned. “You don’t look bad yourself.” Jon blushed and offered you his arm. “Are we walking or taking the bus?”

“I was thinking we could walk. It’s a nice day.” Jon led you down the sidewalk and off campus. You relaxed, letting yourself enjoy.

***

“So I didn’t think you’d be an ice cream person?” Jon teased as he handed you a cone. You smiled, accepting it.

“Who isn’t an ice cream person?” You took a lick, savoring the taste. It reminded you of the rare times your dad would pick you up from school. He always took you out for ice cream after you swore not to tell Alfred.

Jon hummed, taking his own cone. “Lactose intolerant people.” He chuckled, holding the door to the ice cream shop for you. You stepped out into the cold night air. The person inside the shop thought you both were strange for getting ice cream on a chilly night, but Jon was so excited. You couldn’t say no. “My mother doesn’t like it because it’s too cold.”

“Really?” You laughed. “To be honest, my...” You had to think about what to call Alfred. Butler came with it’s own impressions. You didn’t want Jon to know. “Grandfather doesn’t like ice cream either, but he always keeps some around for everyone else.”

“So you have a grandfather?” Jon nudged your side. “Did he raise you?”

You raised an eyebrow at him. The two of you walked slowly back toward campus. “Somewhat. My dad was there too, but my grandfather was the one who was always there.” You smiled, making a note to yourself to call Alfred. “What about you?” You side eyed him with a playful smirk.

“Well, I have a mom and a dad.” He didn’t meet your eye. You caught the slight downturn of his lips. He was holding back something. “I’m not close to my mom’s dad, but I know my dad’s mom pretty well.”

You wrinkled your nose slightly, sensing his discomfort. “I never asked what your major was.”

Jon accepted the subject change with a smile. Funny, was Jon hiding his family like you were hiding yours? “Oh, I’m undecided right now. I have a lot of interests.” He nudged your arm and licked his ice cream. “What about you?”

“I’m majoring in business,” you said, smiling at him before taking a lick of your ice cream. “But I might just switch my major over to classics and minor in something else. I want to do something that interests me instead of what will make me a career.” You bit your lip. Of course, you were set for life simply because of your father. You knew it was a privilege.

“Classics?” Jon blinked. “Wow, that makes a lot of sense.”

You elbowed his side. “What is that supposed to mean?” You narrowed your eyes at him while he smirked.

“I just meant I noticed you were carrying a textbook of Greek lit when we met, so now it makes sense.” Jon took a lick of his ice cream. “I kinda thought you were an Amazon or something.”

You snorted. “Just because I study Greek lit doesn’t mean I’m an Amazon. Are you an alien just because you are in the Star Trek class?” You laughed when Jon choked.

“No.” He chuckled nervously, stumbling over a crack in the sidewalk. You grabbed his arm to steady him. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Sorry if I hit a nerve there.” A flash of guilt filled you. You wondered why he seemed so taken back by your comment?

“No, you’re fine.” Jon looked at you. “You just took me by surprise, I guess.” He smiled. “By that logic, would the whole class be Aliens including you?”

“I suppose.” You laughed, finishing your ice cream as you both reached campus. “We should bring that up in class next time.”

Jon laughed hard. You liked the sound of his laugh. It was so open and free. You and Jon kept walking past your dorm hall and doing loops around campus, not wanting the night to end.

***

Weeks past, you and Jon were inseparable. You did your homework together, went to movies, had lunch and dinner together and a billion other things. If this was what falling in love was, you enjoyed it.

Two days before you were going home for winter break, you and Jon were at the Metropolis Mall. It was a huge place and you had to take two buses to make it there. The entire mall was blaring Christmas music and decorated to the nines. Jon was bouncing on his toes like an eager child. You were glad that you had already gotten his gift. He was too excited to not notice if you picked up something for him here.

“So where should we go first?” Jon asked, reaching to take your hand. You smiled at how warm his hand was in yours. It had gotten colder in Metropolis the last few weeks, but Jon was always warm. You don’t know how he did it.

“I don’t know. I need something for Cass, my sister.” You bit your lip. Jon squeezed your hand, pulling you along toward the Cinnabon. “What about you? I mean, besides Cinnabon for yourself?”

“Cinnabon for you too,” Jon chuckled, getting in line. “We need food before we walk around this place anyway.” He squeezed your hand again. “I need to get something for my mom and dad.”

You hummed, distracted by three kids running by. They were clearly high on sugar as their parents chased after them. “This is so strange. We never went to malls when I was growing up.”

“Well, you did live in Gotham. Do they even have one?” Jon teased, letting go of your hand to slid his arm around your waist.

“They do. We just never went.” You avoid telling him how Alfred thought it was an indecent place and refused to allow you to go there. The first time you went was when you were sixteen with friends. So far, you avoided mentioning you were from the Wayne family. Cass was the only name you dared to voice.

“We came every year. My mom loves the decorations.” Jon blushed slightly. “Plus we always went holiday shopping for my dad together.”

You smiled, leaning your head against Jon’s shoulder. “That sounds nice. My family didn’t really have any traditions except for Christmas dinner and presents afterwards.”

“That’s kinda sad.” Jon rubbed your back. You got to the front of the line and Jon ordered for both of you. It’s amazing how well he knew you in such a short amount of time. Then again, you knew him quite well too, which is why you slipped the clerk your credit card before he could give his. “Hey, I got this.”

“Nah, my treat.” You winked up at him, taking the card back once it was processed. “Besides, you need to save your money for nice things for your parents.”

The two of you got your drinks and cinnamon rolls and sat down at one of the tables. “Are you sure you have to go back to Gotham?” Jon asked, frowning slightly.

“Yeah, I promised my family. They’re even coming to pick me up.” You blushed as you tried to take a bite of the cinnamon roll, but it was too big. Jon just went into his, getting frosting on his nose. You laughed, reaching over to wipe it off with your finger.

“So I’ll get to meet them?” Jon asked once he swallowed, smiling when you licked the frosting off your finger. You froze.

“Maybe not.” You bit your lip. “I’d rather they not know about you yet. Keep you to myself.” Your heart sank when you saw his face fall. “Not that I’m trying to hide you or something, it’s just my family is overbearing. I want us to be just us until we add them in. Don’t want to scare you off.” You laughed, smoothing it over.

The sparkle came back to Jon’s eye. “Really?” He took another big bite of his cinnamon roll. “You’re just going to have to go for it, (Y/N).” He nodded to your roll.

You sighed, picking it up and taking a big bite. Frosting got all over your chin and nose, but the taste was worth the mess. Jon reached over to wipe frosting off your face with his finger, copying what you did to him. It made you laugh. Your laughter triggered his too and soon the people around you stared wondering what you two were laughing about.

***

It took several walks around the mall for Jon to find a present for his parents. You finally convinced him to get one of those engraved glass figures. He gave the man a photo of the two of them, and you had to wait an hour for it to be processed.

Meanwhile, you looked for a present for Cass. She was the hardest to shop for. Jon gave his opinion and eventually found you a super soft sweater that you knew Cass would love.

“So we got another half an hour until the glass thing is done.” Jon put his hands in his pockets. He held his elbow out, so you could hook your arm in his. “What should we do?”

“I don’t know.” You laughed, leaning against his arm. “We could...” You frowned when Jon suddenly stopped, tilting his head to the side as if he was listening to something. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” He smiled, pulling away from you. “I just need to use the bathroom real quick.” He blushed and ran back the way you came. You watched him go. It was very odd. He never did something like that before except for the time you maybe got him too excited.

You walked over to a coffee place and ordered yourself and Jon a coffee. You heard the girls’ behind the counter talking about a bank robbery stopped by the young sexy Superman. They must be talking about Conner. You met him once at the manor when he stopped by for Tim. He was very cute and knew he was. Actually, you were sure he was probably the only non-family hero you met. Dad always made sure you were kept out of the way of his night work.

“Hey, I’m back,” Jon said suddenly, appearing behind you. He was out of breath, hair disheveled.

“You didn’t have to run back so fast.” You reached up to adjust his hair. Jon blushed slightly, eyes widening. “I got us coffee.”

“Cool.” He smiled sheepishly, picking up the order once they called your name. He handed you your cup. “Thanks babe.”

You raised an eyebrow at the new nickname before you decided you liked it. “Now what should we do?” You hooked your arm with his and led him away.

“I think we should check out that arcade.” Jon pointed across the way to the brightly lit arcade. “Let’s see what we can do.”

“Alright, but I’ll warn you. I’m pretty good at these.” You nudged his side, laughing when he looked at you in surprise.

“Really? Oh please, I’d like to see that.” He smirked. The two of you wandered inside. You kicked his butt at every single game you played.

***

“(Y/N)!” You jerked awake only to see your disgruntled roommate hovering over you. “Your boyfriend is here. Can you tell him to only come at decent hours next time?” They went back to their bed.

“Sorry.” You yawned, sitting up to glance at your clock. It was six in the morning. You were supposed to get up in an hour to pack and meet Alfred at eight in the parking lot. Climbing out of bed, you slipped on a pair of slippers and shuffled out of your dorm room to find Jon standing nervously in the hallway. He was fully dressed for the day. Probably doing his morning jog that he told you he did every morning. “What’s up?”

“Hey.” Jon looked you up and down, smiling at your pajamas before taking your hand and guiding you down to the lounge. It was empty at this hour. “I wanted to see you before you left.”

“Jon, we said goodbye last night.” You squeezed his hand, taking a seat on the couch. He sat down right beside you. His thigh brushed against yours. You yawned again, noticing he was wearing the sweatpants you got him.

“I know, but I had to give you my present.” You blinked at him.

“You gave me a lovely bath bomb set, Jon. I can’t wait to use it when I get home.” Leaning over, you kissed his cheek. “You don’t need to get me anything else.”

Jon shook his head. “No, I needed to get you something more meaningful. I talked to one of my friends last night. He told me I was an idiot to give the girl I love bath bombs.” He blushed so red that his face rivaled the poinsettia in the corner of the room.

Your jaw dropped. “Love?” Your mouth went dry, heart spasming. “You love me?”

Jon nodded. “I do.” He smiled shyly, taking your hand in his. “I couldn’t let you go without telling you.”

“I’m coming back, you know.” You laughed nervously. “But I love you too, Jon.” You met his eye, seeing the joy sparkling in his eyes. Slowly, you leaned over to seal a kiss to his lips. Jon melted into you, his arms wrapping around you to pull you against his chest. He was so warm.

Jon started laughing. You giggled along with him, pulling away to gather yourself. Your lips tingled from the pressure. “I wanted to give you this,” Jon said, swallowing back his laughter as he pulled a jewelry box out of his pocket.

“You didn’t have to.” He placed the box in your hand.

“Open it.” Those puppy dog eyes were on full power and you opened the box. Inside was a golden necklace with a tiny star pendant.

A big smile pulled onto your lips as you took it out, noting the tiny designs etched in the star. “Wow.” You took a deep breath. “Can you put it on me?” You turned, handing Jon the necklace.

“Of course.” Jon chuckled. His fingers feather-light on the back of your neck. “I’m glad you like it.” He kissed the back of your neck once he closed the clasp. “I wanted something you could remember me by while you’re at home.”

“It’s not like you won’t be able to call or text me.” You turned to face him, touching the necklace. It made your skin tingle when he gave you that puppy dog grin. “It’s only three weeks. I’m coming back a week before everyone else to set up my internship at the Metropolis Library Archives.”

Jon leaned forward and stole another kiss. “You’re so smart and beautiful. I can’t believe I met you sometimes.”

You smiled into the kiss, pulling away when you caught the time on the wall clock. “I have to get ready to leave.” It hurt to stand up, knowing you wouldn’t see him for three weeks. “But we’ll text.”

“We can even zoom call too.” He got up, frowning slightly. “I love you.”

“I love you.” You took a step toward him. Jon wrapped his arms around your waist. You pressed against him as you slowly kissed him one last time.

***

It surprised you when you got a text from Dick telling you he’d meet you in the parking lot. You went out with your bags, slightly confused. Alfred said he was going to pick you up. Worry nibbled it’s way inside you. Was Dad hurt? Was someone dead? You hated your family sometimes. It was very much like them to not tell you something like that until you had to find out.

Dick leaned against the car with his arms crossed, looking around the campus with interest. You noticed two women were eyeing him, checking him out from afar. You had to hold back the eye roll.

He perked up when he saw you. “Hey kiddo.” He opened his arms for you. You reluctantly gave him a hug. “It’s been too long.”

“Who’s hurt?” you asked. You felt him wince in your arms.

“Why does someone need to be hurt?” Dick pulled away and took your bags to put in the trunk. You noticed he must have borrowed one of Bruce’s cars. It was the Porsche. Dick basically had a claim over that one.

“Because Alfred was going to come pick me up, and the only reason for Alfred to not be here is if he’s needed elsewhere.” You frowned, narrowing your eyes at him when he closed the trunk and allowed you to see him again. He bit his lip, running a hand through his hair.

“Okay, you caught me.” He held up his hands. “Bruce may have taken a bad fall during a recent ski trip.” Your eyes widened. That was code for broken bones or more. You swallowed hard.

“Is he okay?” You asked, a lump forming in your throat. Dick gestured for you to get into the car. You did and he quickly joined you.

Dick turned on the car, turning up the heat. “He had a bad fall when he was chasing Firefly the other day. Broken leg, concussion, and some internal bleeding. He’s fine now though, just has to recover. Alfred needed to stay home to make sure he actually rests.” Dick patted your hand. “Don’t worry, kiddo.”

You felt tears burn in your eyes, but you blinked them away. Dick’s hand squeezed yours. “Why can’t you guys tell me these things?”

“We didn’t want to worry you during finals.” Dick leaned over to kiss your temple. “Bruce asked us not to.”

“Jerk.” You crossed your arms. Keeping your gaze forward, you thought about Jon and felt the weight of the necklace around your neck. You suddenly felt better. “Well, I guess I appreciate that.”

“I did disagree with him, but he didn’t listen.” Dick pulled into traffic. His hand stayed on yours. “How was school?” He grinned, switching subjects. “I heard you changed your major.”

You shrugged your shoulders. “Yeah, I finally decided to do it.” You sighed. “School is fun. The people are nice.”

Dick hummed, glancing at you as he got onto the freeway. “I’m glad you’re doing what makes you happy.” He squeezed your hand. “Now tell me everything.”

You began to tell Dick things, but avoided mentioning Jon. He was your secret for now. The last thing you wanted was your family to find out about him.

***

Jon floated above the city, depressed. He laid out on his back, looking up at the sky with his cape floating below him. His fingers itched to grab his phone to text you, but he stopped himself. “Give her a chance to get home,” he mumbled to himself. “Don’t want to be clingy.”

He heard an burglary alarm in the south side. Flipping around, he zoomed to that end of town and flew right into the jewelry store to grab both robbers and bring them outside. Then he grabbed some chains from the back of a nearby pickup and tied them to the light post. Both robbers blinked in confusion before swearing at him. Jon just smiled at them and flew away.

He did several more good deeds before sitting on top of the Daily Planet. Closing his eyes, he focused on the sound of your heartbeat. Your heartbeat was unique. He remembered when he first heard it in class with you. Then he was lucky enough to actually meet you.

“Jonathan Kent, what are you doing?” Lois Lane said, coming out of the Planet’s roof door. “Aren’t you supposed to be studying for your last final?” She pulled her jacket tighter around her. Jon got to his feet, blushing.

“I wanted to take a break.” He smiled sheepishly. It’s not like Lois knew what he was doing. He made sure to keep you his secret. The last thing he needed was the famous Lois Lane and Clark Kent to scare you off.

Lois hummed, narrowing her eyes at her son. “Right.” She reached to adjust the cape on his shoulders. “Well, Damian stopped by and told us we’re invited to the Manor for Christmas. With his injuries, the family wanted more people around to keep Bruce occupied.”

“Oh yeah, he told me about that when we met up the other night,” Jon said, remembering Damian mentioning that before he told him off for only giving you bath bombs. Lois narrowed her eyes. “It wasn’t long. There was just a concern with Kid Amazo or I guess Man Amazo now?” He chuckled.

“Well as long as you pass your finals.” Lois crossed her arms, smiling at her son. “I haven’t seen you in a while. You missed all our family dinners.”

Jon blushed and glanced over his shoulder. He spent those days with you. “Sorry, Mom. I’ll be there this week.”

“Of course.” She reached up to brush a strand of hair off his forehead. “Now you better go study before the world explodes again or something.”

“Yes, Mom.” Jon kissed her cheek. He floated up into the air. “Tell Dad I said hi and that I’ll see him at dinner this week.”

“Tell him yourself.” Lois waved as Jon flew off into the city. He headed back to Metropolis U, wishing you were there to study with him. Maybe he could text you now? You had to be home by now, right?

***

“Wow, Dad. You’re in bed. I thought you never used it,” you teased, stepping into his bedroom with a big smile of relief. Dick said he was okay, but you couldn’t relax until you saw him with your own eyes.

Bruce grunted, setting his paper down. He was sat up against the pillows with his cast covered leg propped up. “Har, har.” A hint of a smile pulled on his lips as you came over to him and sat on the edge of the bed. “I’m glad you’re home.”

“Merry Christmas, Dad.” You kissed his cheek and took his hand. It was rougher than it used to be. More nicks and calluses.

“How was school?” He squeezed your hand, studying you with that vigilant gaze you used to hate when you were younger. Now you enjoyed it. It was the way he showed he cared. However, his eyes lingered on your necklace and suddenly you changed your mind about that.

“Good. Aced all my classes and changed my major officially. I’ll go for classics with a minor in linguistics instead.” You shrugged your shoulders as you reached up to hide the necklace in your shirt.

Bruce hummed. “Good, I want you to do what you want.” He squeezed your hand again before wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his side. “I’m proud of you.”

Your heart warmed. “Thanks Dad.” You eyed his cast. “How long will you be out?”

“Six weeks.” He frowned. “But the boys and Cass have it covered. No need to worry.” He rubbed your shoulder. “Now do you have that paper you wanted me to read?”

You smirked, pulling it up on your phone. “Yeah, I do. Aced it, and it sealed my internship with the Metropolis Library Archives too.” You handed him your phone. Bruce started reading, snorting at the title. All you did was pray Jon didn’t text you while Bruce was looking at your phone.

***

Days later, Jon was laying on his bed in his parents’ apartment. His phone was in his hands. You were about to call him. It took a while to schedule a time. You said your family was nosy. Then again, so was Jon’s, but luckily Clark just left for the watchtower. Out of range.

Your ringtone echoed in his room. He grinned, answering it. “Hey beautiful,” he whispered when he heard his mother turn on the shower. He relaxed, knowing he was in the clear.

“Hey yourself, handsome.” You laughed. Jon’s heart ached at the sound of your voice. “How are you?”

“Good. Just finished family dinner. Now I’m in my room.” Jon stretched his legs, eyeing the old Overwatch poster on his wall. “At my parents’ place.”

“I figured.” You sighed. He heard you moving around on your end. “Well, home has been interesting for me.”

“Really, why?” Jon put an arm behind his head.

“My family is a little crazy.” A dog barked in the background. “Okay, Titus. Come on in.” A door opened and closed. “Sorry, my dog wants to be in my room with me. He gets attached.”

Jon smirked. “Titus huh? Can I see him?”

“Maybe when we zoom call tomorrow? I’m not presentable.” You coughed. “I have to go with my brother to a party and I’m getting dressed.”

“Ooo,” Jon bit his lip, daring to ask the question. “Can you send me a picture of what you’re wearing?”

You hummed. He heard you brushing your hair. “I can, it’s a nicer party. My dad can’t go, so I didn’t want my brother to go alone.” You laughed. “You can’t make fun of what I’m wearing though.”

“Never.” Jon imagined what you could be wearing. He had to shake his head to stop the dirty thoughts. “Whatever you wear is beautiful.”

You laughed again. Jon couldn’t get enough of the sound. “You charmer.” You sighed softly. “Promise you won’t laugh or make a joke?”

“I promise with all my heart.” Jon pulled the phone away from his ear when it buzzed with a text from you. His breath caught in his throat. You were drop dead gorgeous. Jon’s mouth went dry. He coughed hard. “Woah, babe. You’re stunning.”

“Thanks.” Your voice sounded faint “At least you won’t have to worry. My brother will keep people away from me.”

“Thank goodness.” Jon sighed in relief, zooming in on the photo to look at your face. You were blushing. “I was worried I’d have competition.”

“Like any of them would stand a chance.” You blew a kiss into the phone when a voice echoed in the background. Jon swore he heard a familiar ‘TT’ in the background. He shook his head, must be imagining things. You didn’t have anything to do with Damian Wayne. “I got to go. Let’s zoom call tonight, okay?”

“Okay.” Jon grinned as he saw you were wearing his necklace too. “I love you.”

“Love you too.” You hung up the phone quickly just as another voice spoke up. Jon set his phone down and relaxed. He eventually fell asleep, dreaming of you in that beautiful outfit.

***

“TT, what is with the necklace?” Damian demanded as he handed you a drink. The two of you were at the Wayne Foundation Christmas Fundraiser. Since Bruce was out, you and Damian were forced to attend in his absence.

“What?” You blinked, taking the drink before glancing down at Jon’s necklace. It matched your outfit. You hoped he wouldn’t notice anything about it.

“The star?” Damian nodded toward it as he sipped his drink. “It’s cheap.”

You wrinkled your nose, grabbing your necklace in your fist. “It’s not cheap. I happen to like it.” You let go of the necklace and flicked his nose. Damian narrowed his eyes dangerously at you. “Knock it off.”

A few businessmen approached. You and Damian dropped your conversation. Damian mumbled under his breath, but you talking over him. Soon the men moved on, leaving you and Damian alone again.

“You smile more than you used to.” Damian crossed his arms, rolling his shoulders in his nice Armani tux. “It’s disturbing.” He took a drink of the champagne, wrinkling his nose at the taste.

“Just because you rarely smile doesn’t mean the rest of us can’t.” You rolled your eyes, watching the people start to dance not so far away. It was only a matter of time before someone came over to ask for a dance. “I’m enjoying school, Damian. Nothing else.”

Damian hummed. He tensed when he saw Bambi King striding over with her eyes on Damian as if he was a delicious piece of steak. You smirked at him, panic brightening his eyes. “Dance with me now.” He grabbed your hand and dropped his drink on a waiter’s tray.

“Okay, okay.” You laughed, stumbling after him. “You don’t want to be devoured tonight, huh?”

Damian spun you in his arms and started to waltz. “Stop it or I’ll call Zeke what’shisname over.”

You just laughed, dancing with your brother. “How about two more dances and we ditch this place?”

“Excellent.” He spun you around and brought you back to him. “We showed our faces.”

“Alfred will just be happy we stayed this long.” You winked at Damian, catching the sparkle in his eye. He was enjoying himself, even if he wouldn’t admit it.

***

You walked into the kitchen in your pajamas, yawning and giving everyone a lazy wave. It was Christmas Eve morning and the entire family was home. Most were already eating at the table. You stopped to kiss Alfred’s cheek as he flipped pancakes on the stove. “Thanks for breakfast, Alfred.”

“You’re welcome, Miss (Y/N).” Alfred nodded for you to go eat. You went to Bruce next and maneuvered around his elevated foot to kiss his cheek too.

Bruce hummed, watching you as you took your seat next to Tim and across from Damian. Tim eyed you carefully. “What?” You asked Tim after he didn’t look away.

“You are the last to breakfast.” Tim looked around the table before looking back at you. Dick, Barbara, and Cass were chatting among themselves at the other end of the table, but Jason and Damian had their full attention on you. Bruce just went back to his paper, but you knew he was listening.

You shrugged, helping yourself to pancakes and eggs. “I was up late.”

“Talking to someone,” Jason mumbled, smirking when you glared at him. “I heard you giggling when I came in last night.” You and Jon finally got to zoom call each other. It left you giddy, missing him so bad that it hurt.

“I was talking to one of my friends from school.” You kept your head down, knowing you were blushing. “I didn’t know that was a crime.”

Damian snorted. “Is that the person who gave you that cheap necklace?”

Your hand shielded the necklace as if to protect it from his words. “Why are you so obsessed with my necklace? I bought it myself if you must know.” You took a bite of your pancake, suddenly losing your appetite. It was like you were reliving your high school years where your brothers tried to involve themselves in your social life.

“Boys, leave (Y/N) alone,” Bruce said, folding up the paper to take a sip of his coffee. “Your sister is an adult and can talk to whoever she wants.”

“Thank you, Dad.” You smiled smugly at your brothers. Jon was still your secret, but you vowed to be more careful. Last thing you need was your brothers tracking down Jon to give him the ‘shovel talk’.

Tim hummed, poking at his food. “How did that Star Trek class go?” he asked after a moment. You laughed and easily fell into a conversation about the class.

“Hey Bruce,” Dick said as he got up to get another pitcher of orange juice from Alfred. “Are the Kents coming to Christmas dinner?”

You almost choked on your pancake. Kents? “Yes, they are coming,” Bruce said as he poured more coffee into his cup.

“TT, at least it will be somewhat enjoyable with Jon here.” Damian narrowed his eyes at Tim. “Even if we have to tolerate the clone.” Tim glared back at him, but didn’t reply.

Meanwhile, you forced yourself to swallow your food. Your brain rushed at hundred miles per hour. Kents? Jon? Jon Kent? Could there be that many Kents? That many Jon Kents? The blood drained out of your face. You quickly took a sip of your drink to hide it, but Bruce noticed, frowning slightly as he watched you.

“The Kents are always well mannered. Perhaps some of it can rub off,” Alfred said pointedly as he added another plate of pancakes to the table.

“We’re not that bad, Al.” Dick chuckled. Jason was looking at you too, eyebrow raised in concern.

“Maybe Cass, (Y/N), and I aren’t, but you boys...” Barbara said, rolling her eyes.

You finished your glass and carefully set it down. Your hand was shaking so bad that it clattered against your plate. “(Y/N), are you alright?” Bruce whispered as Damian and Tim started arguing.

You licked your lips. “Are the Kents from Metropolis?”

Bruce raised his eyebrows. A hint of a smirk pulled at his lips. “They’re the Supers, sweetheart. Superman, Superboys, Lois Lane.”

“Superboys? Like more than one?” Your eyes widened. Suddenly flashes of Jon quickly leaving you with excuses of bathroom runs only to come back completely disheveled. How sometimes he seemed to almost float. The look on his face when you joked he must be an alien for being in the Star Trek class. You could be wrong, hoped you were.

Bruce chuckled softly. “Yes, Conner was the first and still is full time, Jon is the second, part time due to college.” Bruce took a sip of his coffee. His eyes studied you as the world’s greatest detective only could. “Jon goes to your school.”

Your stomach dropped to your feet. “Oh no.” You pressed your hand over your mouth and jumped out of your chair. The chair clattered to the ground as you ran out of the room to the nearest bathroom.

Slamming the door behind you and locking it, you slid down to the floor. Your chest tightened.

“How the fuck did I happen to meet Superboy and fall in love with him? Oh my god, I’m going to die. Jon’s going to die.” You pulled your knees into your chest. “How could I be so dumb? Why didn’t I pay more attention to other heroes?”

You touched your necklace, clutching the star so tightly that it embedded into your palm.

A soft knock on the door made you flinch. “(Y/N), are you okay?” Cass asked softly. You reached up to open the door and motioned for Cass to come inside. She slipped in and quickly closed the door behind her.

“Cass, I’m screwed,” you whispered softly, grabbing her hand and pulling her to the floor with you. You tensed when you heard the boys outside, loudly eavesdropping.

She blinked in confusion. Cass clicked her tongue, settling down beside you. “Why? You’re not pregnant.”

“Of course you would know that.” You groaned and rested your forehead on your knees. “Damn it. I was so happy, but now I’m screwed because I’m so stupid and I didn’t even realize who he was.”

Cass hummed. She wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “You are dating someone?” You sighed, nodding your head. It was nice she could read you so well. You didn’t have to say anything. “The family won’t approve?”

“No.” You swallowed hard. A lump hard in your throat. “And they are going to find out so much sooner than I wanted.”

You watched her frown in thought before her eyes lit up. “Oh no.”

“Yes.” Tears filled your eyes. “It’s going to be so bad.” A sob slipped out of you. You pressed your hand against your mouth to silence it.

Cass rubbed your back, kissing your temple. “We will get through this, but first you have to call Jon. He needs to know that you know and if he doesn’t know about you, then you need to tell him.”

“But then what? He’s going to be here tomorrow. I don’t know if I can act like I don’t know him.” You bit your lip hard to stop another sob.

“No, but we can get allies.” Cass smirked. You looked at her confused, but she just hummed and pulled you into a tight hug. “Trust me.”

***

The kids at the children’s hospital laughed and waved as both Jon and Clark flew away. Jon had a permanent smile on his face. This was one of his favorite part of the holidays, being able to visit hospitals and children’s homes on Christmas Eve. It made their Christmas. His heart felt warm.

“Having a good time, son?” Clark asked once Jon and him were far above the city.

“Yeah, I love doing this sort of thing.” Jon wished you were here. He knew you would love this as much as he did. Closing his eyes, he listened for your heartbeat. It was still in Gotham and faster than normal.

“What’s wrong?” Clark asked, tilting his head to listen too.

Jon swallowed hard, opening his eyes. “Nothing.” Maybe you were working out? Or just having some fun? He shouldn’t be worried.

Clark hummed, studying Jon. “We should head home. Your mother probably has some cookies made already.”

Jon licked his lips. “Can’t wait.” Clark flew toward home, but Jon stopped when his phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket, almost dropping it when he saw it was you. Clark paused, watching Jon curiously. Jon smiled sheepishly before putting the phone to his ear. “Hello?”

“Hi.” You sounded off. Jon’s stomach dropped slightly. “I don’t know how to say this.”

“Babe, are you breaking up with me?” Jon chuckled humorlessly. Clark flew a little closer, pretending that he wasn’t eavesdropping. Jon couldn’t find it in himself to care.

“No, but it might be easier,” you muttered almost under your breath. That was like a knife in Jon’s heart. He felt so confused. “Jon, do you know who I am?”

Jon blinked, flinching slightly. Clark tensed at the sight. “(Y/N) (Y/L/N), what’s going on?” Jon said. Clark’s eyes widened at the sound of your name. Jon frowned at Clark, wondering if Clark knew your name for some reason. Could have been from the internship you scored? Would Clark know about that?

You sighed. Jon heard someone talk to you. “Yeah, he doesn’t have a clue either. I’m not the only dumb one,” you said to them, voice fainter as if you covered the speaker of your phone. Jon clenched his hand around his phone. It took all he had not to just fly to you and demand answers. “Jon, do you really not know who my family is? Like at all?” you asked him again.

“Your family doesn’t matter to me. I love you, damn it,” Jon snapped, blushing when his father face palmed. Why did he feel like he was missing something?

Something almost like a sob came from you. Jon tensed at the sound. “Jonathan Kent, my father is Bruce Wayne.”

Time stopped. The blood drained out of Jon’s face. His phone slipped out of his hand. “Oh my god.”

The next thing Jon knew, he was sitting on a rooftop with his father talking to you on the phone. Jon tried to wet his mouth, pushing aside all the images of Damian and Bruce murdering him for dating their (Y/N). Damian mentioned you once or twice, but Jon never met you or even seen a photo of you before.

Jon watched his father blankly. He felt numb. How could he have been so dumb? All the signs were there. You even looked a bit like Damian when he thought about it.

“I’m on board with your plan and I’ll update Jon once he recovers from the shock.” Clark chuckled, watching Jon with a teasing expression. “And it’s nice to finally meet you, (Y/N). Your father always spoke highly of you.”

Jon stumbled to his feet, reaching for the phone. Clark shook his head before hanging up the phone. “Jon, my sweet boy.” Clark pulled Jon into a hug. “I love you so much, but you get into so much trouble.”

“Are you saying that because I’m going to die tomorrow?” Jon mumbled, resting his chin on Clark’s shoulder. “I really love her, Dad.”

“I know.” Clark pulled back to look him in the eye. “We got a plan. You’re not going to start World War Three when Damian and Bruce whip out the kryptonite. (Y/N) is just as smart as her father bragged all these years.”

“Of course, she’s smart. She’s amazing.” Jon grinned, thinking about you. “I can’t believe I was so dumb. I should have known.”

Clark chuckled, ruffling Jon’s hair. Jon groaned at the touch. “To be fair, I don’t think (Y/N) knew about you either.”

Jon sighed, taking his phone back and shoving it in his pocket. “So, do I get to know more about this plan?”

“We can discuss it when we get home.” Clark floated up into the sky. “I can’t wait to tell your mother.” He flew toward home.

“Hey!” Jon flew after him, but Clark just flew faster. “That’s not nice! At least let me tell her! Dad!”

***

Later that day, you and Cass slowly recruited Barbara and Steph. Barbara was on board with little convincing, giving you a big hug. Steph on the other hand...luckily she was spending Christmas Eve with her mom.

“You’re dating Superboy?! Oh my god, oh my god. Damian’s going to freak! Can I be there when he finds out? Oh, please, please, please,” Steph shouted through the phone. You, Cass, and Barbara were in your bedroom, strategizing.

“I mean you’ll be here tomorrow since your mom is working Christmas Day, so you’ll witness,” you said dully. Your heart pounded like a sledgehammer just thinking about it. Even with allies, you weren’t sure how it would go. You kept seeing Jon’s death, Damian losing his only friend all because of you.

Cass clicked her tongue. She held her hand out for the phone. You handed it over before covering your face with your hands. Cass talked quietly with Steph. Barbara rubbed your back, giving you a sympathetic smile.

“It’s okay.” Barbara whispered in your ear. “It’s all going to be okay.”

“How do you know that?” You looked up at her, tears burning your eyes.

Barbara smiled. “When they see how happy you and Jon are, they’ll have to accept it. Damian loves you both. He wants you to both be happy. Bruce wants you to be happy.”

You groaned, flopping down on the bed. “I don’t know.” You grabbed your pillow and pressed your face into it. Barbara patted your knee. You always had a close relationship with her. She was the one who told you about the internship at the Metropolis Library Archives and the first one you told about getting it.

“You do know. Now stop moping, we got a plan to form.” Barbara pulled the pillow from your face. Cass hung up the phone and set it on your bedside table. “We need to get some of the boys in on this.” Barbara crossed her arms.

Cass clicked her tongue again before leaving the room suddenly. You and Barbara shared a look. “I don’t know. The boys never keep things quiet,” you said after a moment.

“True, but the more allies the better in this case.” Barbara smiled. “We’ll have to bring in Alfred for sure.”

“I’ll tell him later. Alone.” You blushed. Alfred might have been your confidant when you were younger, but the idea of telling him about Jon...it made you wince. Alfred wouldn’t judge you though.

Cass reentered the room with Jason and Tim behind her. Tim looked confused, sipping a cup of coffee while Jason seemed slightly concerned at the sight of you. You realized you still looked like a mess from all the tears you shed earlier.

“Okay, what’s going on?” Tim asked sharply. Cass closed and locked the door behind them. Jason sat next to you on the bed, eyeing you carefully.

“We need you to be understanding and willing to support (Y/N),” Barbara said, glaring at Tim then Jason. “No matter what.”

“Don’t tell me you’re pregnant.” Tim ran a hand through his hair. “Because I don’t want to be anywhere near the manor when you tell Bruce.”

“I’m not pregnant. Why does everyone think that?” You blushed, wiping your eyes with your sleeve.

Jason cleared his throat. “Well, that’s the running theory downstairs.”

Barbara rolled her eyes. “You’re all idiots.”

Cass held up a hand, silencing the room. “(Y/N), tell them.”

You hugged the pillow to your chest. Your blood turned to ice. If you felt this bad telling Tim and Jason, how was it going to be with Damian and Bruce.

“We won’t judge you, (Y/N). We’re worried about you,” Jason said, putting a hand on your shoulder and squeezing gently.

“Honest. We’re here for you, even if you’re being a little overemotional,” Tim added, sipping his coffee. Cass punched his arm. Tim yelped in response.

You took a deep breath. “I’m dating Jon Kent.”

Silence followed. You glanced between Jason and Tim. Both were froze, eyes wide. Barbara smirked at the sight while Cass just rolled her eyes.

Finally, a chuckle escaped from Jason before spilling into full out laughter. He rolled off the bed, holding his stomach as if it would burst from the laughter alone. Tim slowly blinked and downed the rest of his coffee in one go.

“It’s not funny.” You nudged Jason’s side with your toe.

“But it is.” Jason choked, still laughing. Barbara sighed, reaching down to pinch Jason’s ear. He yowled in pain as she drag him up and onto the bed. “Ouch, okay. Not funny.”

“How? Why?” Tim asked, setting his cup down before sitting on the other side of you.

“I didn’t know it was him. We met at school, and fell in love.” You touched your necklace. Both of your brothers watching the movement. “It wasn’t until this morning when you all mentioned Superboy was Jon Kent that it hit me.”

Jason chuckled, holding up his hands when Barbara threatened his ear again. “So Bruce and Damian don’t know yet?”

“No, but we need you with us and to go with our plan.” Cass straightened, glaring at Tim and Jason. “For (Y/N).”

Tim sighed. “I’m always on your side...but I get to bring Kon in on this.” He smirked, nudging your side.

“Kon already knows. We already informed Clark and Lois. They promised to tell him,” you said, smiling at Tim’s surprise. You turned to Jason. “Jay?”

Jason rolled his shoulders. “Well, I guess I can help, but I reserve the right to give Jon the shovel talk.”

You groaned while the others laughed. “Please no.”

“Nope, I got to hold over my big brother rights.” Jason held up his hands. “Right, Tim?”

Tim shrugged. “I don’t care as much, but sure.”

You laid back on your bed, slapping a hand over your eyes as everyone laughed. It felt better, knowing that if you got through telling Jason and Tim, the rest will be not as challenging. At least you hoped.

***

When Jon landed outside of Wayne Manor on Christmas Day, he closed his eyes and found your heartbeat. Your heart was music to his ears. He grinned, running a hand through his messy hair to get it back to normal.

“He’s love sick already,” Kon chuckled, bumping Jon in the back as he jogged ahead to knock on the front door. Jon glared at him.

“You’re not going to fool anyone for long,” Lois said, reaching up to fix Jon’s hair again. Jon groaned, gently pushing Lois’ hands away.

“I’m not that bad, Mom.” Jon crossed his arms as the front door opened to reveal Damian Wayne himself.

“TT, Kents.” He stepped aside let them in. “Father is in the den.”

“Thank you, Damian.” Clark and Lois headed toward the den, knowing the way. Kon was jogging up the stairs. Jon stayed next to Damian.

Damian eyed Jon carefully. Jon swallowed hard, biting his lip. “So how are things?” Jon asked. Damian raised an eyebrow in response. Jon blushed. Lois was right, Jon wasn’t going to keep it a secret for long. He listened for you again. You were in the kitchen. It sounded like you were peeling potatoes.

“Good.” Damian stalked toward the den. Titus ran out of the kitchen, tongue wagging, tail thumbing as he jumped on Jon. Jon laughed, petting him. Damian pursed his lips. “Titus, down.”

Titus obeyed. “It’s okay. He’s a good boy.” Jon laughed when he heard your laugh from the kitchen. Everything in him wanted to go see you, but it would ruin the plan.

Damian hummed and stalked off toward the den. Jon followed with Titus beside him. Bruce was in his armchair, his cast resting on a stool. The Kents were on the couch. The conversation was light. Bruce was even smiling slightly. Jon let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad?

“TT, Father, are you comfortable?” Damian went to Bruce and stood beside him. He folded his arms, glaring slightly. Jon blinked. Maybe Damian knew something was up? He swallowed hard and took a seat next to Clark. Jon’s stomach flip flopped. He felt like a bomb was ticking down in the room and he had to sit and wait for it.

After a few minutes of just the parents talking, Steph, Cass, Tim, Kon, and Jason walked into the room all together. They were all smiling oddly. Steph gave Jon a big wink. Jon flinched and blushed when he saw Damian’s frown at the sight.

“Hey Mr. Lane,” Steph teased, taking a seat on the floor by the Christmas tree. “Mrs. Lane.”

Clark just hummed. Lois kissed his cheek. Cass joined Steph by the tree. Tim, Kon, and Jason sat on the other couch. Jason put his feet up and smirked over at Jon. Jon narrowed his eyes. He hoped they wouldn’t give it away. Damian was watching his siblings with suspicion already.

“Merry Christmas, everyone,” Alfred said. He stepped into the room with a tray of appetizers, coffee, and hot chocolate. Clark got up to help.

“Aww, you must be (Y/N),” Lois said suddenly. Jon jumped to his feet, spun to find you behind Alfred with another tray. His heart fluttered as you smiled. You were wearing a red sweater that looked amazing on you.

He shot forward to take the tray from you. “Let me help.”

“Thank you.” Your eyes sparkled. Jon lost himself in them until someone cleared their throat. Your eyes widened along with Jon’s as you both turned to look at the rest of the family. Damian and Bruce were frowning while everyone else just smiled knowingly.

“We’re dead,” you said under your breath, biting your lip as Damian tensed. Jon saw Damian connecting the dots.

“Trust in the plan,” Jon whispered back. He walked over to set the tray on the coffee table.

You stayed by the door. Jon took his seat again. Lois patted his knee and leaned closer. “You blew it, sweetheart,” she whispered. Jon swallowed hard.

Dick came in with a third tray with Barbara right behind him. He stopped when he saw you huddled by the door, Damian and Bruce’s stony expressions and everyone else’s knowing looks. “What’s going on?” Dick asked. Barbara hushed him.

Damian looked from Jon to you several times. Jon kept his eyes on you. He hated the scared look in your eye. Slowly, Jon stood back up. The room went silent as Jon walked back to you.

“Let’s just do it. He’s going to figure it out in a sec anyway.” Jon took your hand. Your lips trembled, squeezing his hand like he was your lifeline. He kissed the back of your hand. He heard a few ‘aww’s and ‘ooo’s behind him.

“No...my sister?!” Damian snapped. Jon stepped slightly in front of you to take the hit of a hot coffee cup against his chest. It shattered. Jon felt the heat from the coffee soaking into his clothes. “You mean all this time?! That harlot you were talking about constantly was my sister?!”

Jon bit his lip. “Well, yeah, but to be fair, I didn’t know she was your sister.” He held up his hands as Damian grabbed another cup. Alfred clicked his tongue and took the cup from Damian’s grasp. The others were watching like it was the finale of their favorite series. Your entire body shook, pressing yourself against Jon’s back.

“How didn’t you know?! Her name is (Y/N)?! You have seen her pictures?!” Damian stomped toward Jon. Luckily, Clark stepped into his path.

“Calm down, Damian. I can vouch that neither of them knew who each other were until yesterday,” Clark said, putting his hands on Damian’s shoulders.

“You’ve seen pictures of me?” you said to Jon, peeking over his shoulder.

“I must have.” He bit his lip, racking his brain. Maybe? Then again, you were probably too beautiful in person that a photo wouldn’t have done you justice. He looked at Bruce. Bruce’s expression hadn’t changed.

“Damian, I love her,” Jon said when Damian jerked away from Clark. Jon’s eyes flickered to Bruce. “Like a lot.”

You stepped out from behind Jon. “And I love him.” Slowly you walked past Damian and went to Bruce’s side. “You’re not mad, are you, Dad?”

Bruce looked at you. Jon swore he saw Bruce’s lips twitch. A lump formed in Jon’s throat. “Damian, relax. I understand this is a shock, but keep your head,” Bruce said, focusing on Damian before turning back to you. “As long as you’re happy and he treats you well, I will be fine.”

Damian crossed his arms, huffing before storming out of the room with Titus behind him. Jon watched him go and sighed. He knew Damian would need to cool off before he could patch things up.

“Wait a minute? Did everyone know, but me?” Dick asked the room after he saw no one else was startled by the news.

“Sorry, Dickhead, but you can’t keep a secret,” Jason said, laughing when Dick pressed his hand against his heart like he had been shot. The tension eased in the room, everyone laughing and teasing. Everyone began to drink and eat. Alfred slipped out of the room and came back with a broom and dustpan to clean the glass on the floor.

Jon knelt down to hold the dustpan for him. “Thank you, Mr. Kent,” Alfred said.

You appeared at Jon’s side. “We should change your shirt. It’s going to stain,” you said. Jon looked down. He grinned, having forgotten about it.

“Probably.” He let you take his hand. Alfred raised an eyebrow as you both slipped out of the room. “You know this probably isn’t a good idea for us to go off by ourselves.”

“We’ll be fine.” You smirked at him, leading him upstairs and toward a bedroom he had never really noticed before. It was across from Damian’s. Jon felt so dumb. There was a sign with your name on the door. How could he not have noticed?

Your room was clean and was very much you. Jon hummed, stopping to look at the photos on your wall. Most were of the family, but there were a few with people he didn’t know. He wondered if you had a photo of him to put up now that the secret was out.

“Here.” You came from your closet with a shirt. “This is one of Dick’s old shirts that he gave me. I usually sleep in it, but...well, it’s clean.” You handed him the shirt. A slight blush came to your cheeks. “I’ll put your shirt to soak in my sink. We should be able to get the stain out if we act now.”

Jon took off his shirt, smirking when he caught you staring. “Thank, babe.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “I missed you.” You stepped forward and placed a kiss on his lips. Jon melted, drinking in your scent, the softness of your lips against his. Your hands rested on his chest. The warmth of your hands made him shiver.

“I missed you too.” Jon smiled, pulling away when he heard several heavy footsteps on the stairs. He heard them stop by Damian’s room to collect him. “I think your brothers are coming to give me the shovel talk.”

You groaned, rolling your eyes as you took his soiled shirt. He slipped on the clean shirt, loving that it smelled like the laundry detergent you always used. “I can’t stop them. I promised Jason and Tim that they could if we had their support.”

Jon bit his lip, listening to some chuckles from your brothers. “I’ll see you at dinner. Don’t worry.”

“I’m not.” You kissed his lips again just as your brothers knocked on your door. “They know I love you, so they wouldn’t kill you.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say that.” Jon hugged you tight before letting you go. You sighed and opened your door. Jason looked gleeful, Tim seemed bored, Dick was worried, while Damian had a particular devious look about him. “So, I know you want to talk to me,” Jon said, sending you a wink. You frowned slightly. “But you’ll have to catch me first.” Jon ran toward your window, opening it smoothly and flying out.

Over the shouts of your brothers, Jon heard you laughing. It was best sound he had ever heard and one he wanted to hear for all the Christmases to come.

#jon kent #jon kent x reader #jon kent imagine #superboy #superboy x reader #superboy imagine #dc comics imagines #dc reader insert #batfamily #batfamily imagine #batman #batman imagine #superman #superman x reader #superman imagine #batsis #christmas

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strawberrystepmom · 8 days

Text

pairing: Toshinori Yagi x F!Reader -> Mirio Togata x F!Reader

word count: 7.8k

contents: Canon divergence for final war arc and beyond, friends to lovers with history, reader has a defined quirk (magnetism) and is a support equipment safety consultant, reader is 29 and Mirio is 30, appearances from other heroes (Deku & Bakugou and they are married, in their 20's)

cw: major character death and discussions of aspects of caretaking for someone at the end of their life, discussions of loss and grief

notes: This idea could not have come to fruition without my most beloved @izvmimi and @bakvrue so thank you to them for always being the very best. I have really been having a Mirioaissance lately and as you all know I love Mr. Might so here goes. Hope you enjoy! Thank you for reading ♡ | crossposted to ao3

“I’m dying.”

Mirio Togata nearly chokes mid-swallow, pressing the back of his hand to his mouth to prevent droplets of tea from seeping out of his lips. It’s a rare Wednesday day off for Lemillion and sunlight pours into the expansive room used as an office at. He’s a guest in the home of one of the most prolific heroes of all time, as he often is, though today he was invited by the man himself instead of showing up to pop in and say hello.

All Might, Toshinori Yagi, is dying.

Technically he has been for years though hearing it from the man’s own mouth feels different than the vague conversations about ‘terminal’ and ‘incompatible organs’.

“No,” the younger man starts but Toshinori raises a hand to stop him, shaking his head with a chuckle.

It’s no secret he has been rapidly looking more and more frail as autumn faded into winter which is now melting into the bright green of spring.

“It’s true. No matter how many times you tell me ‘you can get better’ or ‘medical technology is improving’ it will not change the fact that my time has a finite number on it.”

There has been a finite amount of his life remaining for a very long time, he’s simply managed to dodge it for as long as possible. Running away from the truth is no longer an option, the years he has been given since the War and its finish already leaving the man feeling like a perpetual cheat. He was supposed to die then, and then after that, and then again and again and again…

There are no more ducks and dodges left in him.

“Midoriya knows and has accepted it. It’s time for you to do the same.”

The words would be harsh coming from anyone other than a beloved mentor turned friend though Yagi has always had the natural ability to soften blows when necessary. Mirio nods, blue eyes trained toward the ground and refusing to meet those of the man in the comfortable chair next to him. He dares to take a peek at the man who will forever be known as All Might, the thinness of his hands and arms and wrists alone a surprising sight. Time has run out. No medical science or quirk or act of God can reverse the inevitable. A transplant cannot save him, medicine will not save him, and he’s made the decision to be as comfortable as possible over the remaining weeks to months he has left.

Togata’s mind unconsciously drifts to you in all of this. You are the young woman who has devoted the latter half of her twenties to taking care of this iconic man, tending to his illnesses and the complications from them with a smile and a joke, a reassuring hand on his shoulder and a kiss on his forehead. The younger of the pair has witnessed this kindness himself on more than one occasion and he remembers when you were simply a Support course student at UA high school a year younger than Mirio himself. You assisted with equipment in the war and it has followed you through your adulthood, your support item safety consulting business thriving and helping build a safer world.

The way you care about everyone is so admirable, it’s difficult not to view you as a hero in all of this. Mirio raises a brow and balls his hands together into a fist, letting it rest in his lap.

“How does she feel about, well, everything?”

It’s a daring question to ask given the older man is well aware of the younger man’s affection toward you no matter how discreet he thinks he is about it. It’s the perpetual elephant in the room. Toshinori sighs, shifting in his chair and positioning his hands in his lap. Mirio’s eyes dart from them and toward the older man’s sallow face, noting the hint of a smile at the mention of you.

“She was the first person to know. It’s the least I could give her for wasting her youth on a sorry old man like me.”

Togata offers a tight smile and tilts his head to the side. The self deprecation isn’t anything new, it has been like this the last several years, though it never sits well when the man he has attempted to pattern his own morals over says something so blasphemous about himself.

“That’s a pretty downer way to look at things, All Might.”

This gets a chuckle from the older man, the sound of his head shaking against the back of his chair causing the younger one to look up at him curiously.

“It’s a pretty downer thing to die but telling you it’s coming isn’t the only reason I asked you here today.”

The older man clears his throat, wiping his thumb against his bottom lip and looking away, joining his hand in his lap. How can he properly phrase what he’s asking his young friend to do without it seeming sordid and disrespectful? He’s leaving you his legacy when he goes. His home, his royalties that will keep you well taken care of for the rest of your life and, well, he’s planning on leaving Mirio Togata the one gift he deserves the most - you.

He simply lays the plot down, hands still folded in his lap.

“How long have you loved her, kid?”

Mirio feigns shock that his mentor, the one who came after the one he lost years ago, is onto him. He has always played off his affection for you as friendliness and lingering glances as simply curiosity and assumed he has been doing it well enough that nobody notices.

“It’s not like that.”

Toshinori laughs, a weak cough wracking his body and he raises his fist to his grinning mouth to cover it. Mirio leans forward in his seat, reaching for the man who waves him off and instead leans to grab the bottle of hand sanitizer on the desk next to him.

“You are a grown man, Togata. Own up to it. It’s not going to offend me.”

There was no expectation of a trip down memory lane set for the younger man prior to arriving for this visit yet his mind launches into years of fuzzy and undefined memories. Evenings he’d come to visit you in the Support course workshop when he was younger with fewer scars covering his arms and torso, the few times in your early twenties you sat thigh to thigh with him in dimly lit izakaya hanging out with your mutual group of friends and their respective partners who are also heroes. He remembers too much and too little at the same time, skin crawling.

Shifting in his seat, he unclasps his hands and claps them against his thighs.

“A long, long time.” He finally responds and Toshinori chuckles in response, leaning back in his own chair and sliding one of his hands out toward Mirio. “Since I was in high school.”

The truth doesn’t hide forever. It makes him feel childish that he was so easily caught by the older man, replaying years of interactions in his head. Did he smile a little too wide at you? Glance a little too long? Pine a little too openly?

There is no way for him to change anything that has happened before now and the usually easy going man tensely lifts his head, meeting Toshinori’s soft gaze. There is no anger even if these events crossed boundaries, something the man is infinitely grateful for, and he reaches across the desk to take his mentor’s offered hand.

“I know.” He weakly squeezes the younger man’s hand, his lack of strength more evident than ever. Mirio feels emotion welling up inside of him and blinks it back, taking a deep breath. “That’s why I am asking you to give her the life I never could, Togata. Take her traveling when you can. Remind her that she’s brilliant and will probably keep this country safer than any hero ever could. Just…be there for her. For me.”

The request carries more weight than the older man could ever possibly understand. It’s not merely a responsibility but a strange kind of bequeathing. No formal paperwork, no meetings with officials, just two men discussing a woman they both care about deeply and how to best assuage her in the sorrows to come.

It also brings another question to Mirio’s mind he has contemplated for many years - do you have lingering feelings for him too? A far younger version of you, magnetism quirk engaged and using it to make him laugh, certainly did. He assumed those feelings just vaporized over time and with responsibility, your heart belonged to another man before he could ever ask that it be his.

A noble man. A good man who you did not want to see live lonely, by himself in his ailing years. A man Togata spent his entire life trying to emulate.

There’s a flutter of hope through the sorrow of knowing the end is coming for his friend and the younger man is the one to squeeze the older mans’ this time, gentle firm pressure to ensure it doesn’t hurt.

“I know it’s a big request. I don’t blame you if it makes you uncomfortable or if you’d like to say no,” Toshinori adds quickly. “I simply know that she cares about you a lot and always has.” His voice cracks and he swallows his sadness, only grateful that his life has been so glorious the last few years thanks to your gentle touch and your silly stories and your tendency to ad-lib songs to make him smile. “She deserves to be happy.”

The younger man couldn’t agree more. He nods, emotion continuing to rise, breaking eye contact to gaze down at his lap to allow him a moment to compose himself. For his entire twenties, he regretted losing his chance with you despite his gratefulness for the care and love you gave Toshinori. Now, entering his thirties, he gets the opportunity to try again. To speak up when he should and to put the feelings he has harbored for more than a decade to good use.

“I will do everything I can to make sure she is, you have my word.”

Even if it means you want nothing to do with him and keep yourself away from everyone forever. Whatever makes you happy, Mirio Togata will make sure you have it.

“I only have weeks. Months if I’m lucky but I don’t think I’m all that lucky anymore.”

The words make Mirio look up from his lap, brows furrowed. He didn’t think there was so little time left but he is a man of action and nods.

“Then let’s make these next few weeks memorable. What do you need me to do?”

A chuckle from the older man as he finally drops the younger one’s hand gently, tucking it back into his lap to join the other.

“For now, just be around if you can make it work.”

That he can do and he does for three more weeks.

On a warm spring day, a little past the end of cherry blossom season, the world loses All Might.

‘The days I spent with you were the happiest of my life. Let me take care of you for the rest of yours. - Toshinori’

The note he left you, the one you were handed by some man in a suit you’d never met before in the days following his death, rests on your desk. It feels too soon to tuck away the increasingly wrinkled piece of paper and you’re far too grateful for the life he has put between your two palms to stop glancing at the note every few hours each day.

It doesn’t answer any of the questions you have about what becomes of your life now though.

Emotion wells up in you again, a lump in your throat you have to swallow down to continue working, the results from your audit of the Dynamite agency’s safety audit on the screen of the tablet in front of you. They’re generally highly rated, Bakugou’s fastidious tendencies seeping through even the smallest detail of safety and care of his employees, but you have to look away. You close the screen cover and slide the device aside, standing up from your spot at the kitchen table to walk into the living room.

The house feels like a mausoleum even if it’s now yours and yours only. Being alone for the first time in weeks leaves a strange taste in your mouth and you fold your arms over your chest, padding across the wooden floors to plop down on the overstuffed couch you picked out three years ago. Deku’s wife spent a week by your side, the first seven days after the tremendous loss ensuring you ate and slept, sleeping in your bed with you and letting you cry on her shoulder. The day she went home hurt almost as badly as the day you lost the man himself, the encroaching loneliness feeling claustrophobic.

Thankfully, the second week was dotted with various visitors, your former classmates and long time friends of Toshinori paying their respects posthumously by being good to you in his departure. Dynamite’s wife tended to you and forced you out of your house, inviting you over with the promise of visiting with her eager to see you children.

The third week was much of the same, even chatting with his old friend David and accepting condolences from other heroes former and current. Your refrigerator stayed full, your mailbox overstuffed with more cards than you could open wishing you well and thanking you for taking care of him.

The fourth fewer people came but you still stayed busy. The fifth, same. The sixth, seventh, and eighth all followed suit although the amount of visitors thinned. Ninth, tenth, eleventh your house became empty outside of your close friends and Mirio. Now you are twelve weeks past his death and facing down a lifetime of uncertainty in a house that feels too large for you but too small for your pain.

Your heart swells recalling the love you’ve been given but it shrivels when you look around, wondering when it will start to feel full of life again; when you will.

Standing, you lumber over to the wall adjacent to where you sit, admiring the artwork and memories on the wall. There are photos of a freckle-faced teenager who became a freckle-faced man with his wife and children alongside Toshinori. Photos of Mirio grinning and giving a thumbs up in a vintage American All Might t-shirt that was almost too small for him. Photos of you and Toshinori smiling side by side when he was still well enough to attend the occasional event, you in glittering floor length sequins and him in a custom suit built to accommodate his ever weakening body.

Sighing, you reach out and brush your thumb along the frame. The photo doesn’t move, anchored into the wall, and you know that all of the care you gave him wasn’t wasted for a moment. He truly made your life better and you believe you did the same for him, though your eyes flit back to the photo of Mirio for a moment.

You took the picture a few years back while cleaning out the spare bedroom used solely for merchandise and collectables Toshinori had been given over the years. You accosted the younger blonde for pulling a shirt that was clearly too small for him over his head but snapped the photo anyway, grinning behind your phone at his silly posing.

Mirio.

He has been here for you almost as much as your closest friends, popping by daily if able with food or stories or just…sunshine, which is exactly what he is and always has been for the time you’ve known him. Even when the two of you were back in high school he knew your favorite candy and delivered it to your desk daily while spending his evenings sticking paper clips to your arm or the side of your face while your quirk was engaged.

Reaching into your pocket, you grab out your phone and dial his number. He answers before the first ring can even finish its trill.

“Hey-o, what are you doing?”

You giggle at his greeting though he hears the strain in your voice that indicates you are feeling down. He tucks his phone between his shoulder and ear, pulling his sweatpants on in the changing room of the agency, ready to head home.

“Nothing. I tried to work a little bit today and couldn’t focus. I’m sure Bakugou will bitch at me but his audit will simply have to wait another week.”

The man on the other end of the phone chuckles, rising to his full impressive stature and heading toward the exit.

“Do you need a distraction? I could come over.”

The offer is appreciated but you wrestle with how to respond to it. What you assumed were long forgotten feelings for Mirio surface every time you are around him and in your grief and confusion, you struggle to separate them from reality and what’s a balm to make you feel temporarily better. Would seeing him now, only three months removed from losing Toshinori, be appropriate? Is it what’s best?

“You don’t have to, I’m sure it was a long day.”

Togata scoffs, using his coded keycard to exit the building. The sun is still somewhat up, a hot summer evening encroaching and he does not want to go home when he could be spending time with you. The day exhausted him a bit, lots of petty crime picks up during the summertime, but he’s never too tired for you.

“Actually, this was the easiest shift I’ve had in a long time.” He’s lying and you can tell by the lilt in his voice, a particular tone he takes when he’s pretending everything is fine you’ve heard before but you are in no condition to press the issue. “I can pick you up in about thirty minutes and we can just drive if you want?”

You shake your head although he can’t see it. Part of you wants to say no, to rebuff your own feelings once and for all, but you’re weak and hurting and needy.

“We don’t have to go anywhere, we can just stay here if you want to come.”

And come he does, in that promised thirty minutes. He doesn’t bother to knock on the door anymore, punching in the code and announcing himself with a boisterous smile, then plopping down on the couch next to you.

It feels a lot more like coming home than it reasonably should but every time he feels guilty for envisioning his place in his life, next to you, he remembers the promise he made. He will make you happy no matter what that looks like.

Time passes so quickly when he’s around and it’s welcome to have something besides your own loneliness to listen to while he explains one of his heroic saves of the day, enthusiastically explaining phasing through a tree to capture a runaway attempted bank robber.

“So I caught the guy and somehow managed to save all the money too, which is crazy when you think about it. I thought the wind would carry half of it off but not today.”

You smile at him fondly, eyes crinkling at the corners, but he can tell something else is on your mind. Repositioning himself on the couch, he turns toward you and props his head up with his fist.

“Wanna talk about it?”

He has always been able to tell when something is bothering you and your brain screams that you should say no. You should turn down all of Mirio’s kindness and lock yourself inside of this home with your grief forever, a timeless pseudo-widow trapped in a prison of her own making.

But the warmth of his gaze encourages you so much, words bubble out of you before you can stop them, your hands instantly flying to your face to be pressed against your cheeks.

“Despite what people have said, I loved him.”

Mirio’s face falls into a concerned frown when he notices your eyes welling up, your glance firmly trained on his face. The papers were pretty harsh to you when the news of his death and your subsequent appointing the heir to his agency, legacy, and image were announced. Opportunistic seemed to be the media’s favorite term, honing in on the age and vitality difference between the two of you rather than the fact a fairly selfless young woman took care of him not knowing any of this was in her future.

You never took care of him in hopes of getting anything, only out of compassion for a man who has made the lives of others so much brighter. Who heals the healer? You took it upon yourself to be the one and you do not regret a moment of it, sitting cross legged at twenty-nine with a sense of pride despite it all.

“Maybe not in a conventional way. I never had,” your face falls a little, as though you’re fearful of reaction toward what you’re about to say. “You know…sex or anything with him. We kissed a few times, we held hands on occasion but my days and nights revolved around him for five years.”

Your voice breaks and immediately you push your thumbs against your eyes to keep yourself from crying where someone else can see it although the sniffling gives you away, sharp little inhalations through your nose.

“What do I do now?”

The question appears to be rhetorical though he feels compelled to answer, wrapping a reassuring arm around your shoulders and gently pulling you against his side. The lack of personal space between the two of you is honestly nothing new, certainly more so since Toshinori’s departure, and you settle into the warmth of him. It’s a comfort you need desperately, his fingers drumming a little beat of four into your shoulder.

“Whatever you want.”

You remove your thumbs from over your eyes, sensitive and red rimmed as they are, glancing at the man next to you carefully. The brightness of your living room causes you to squint and he reaches his free hand to wipe tears from your bottom lashes, his crooked index finger pressing delicately against your skin.

“I know that sounds callous and it probably is the wrong thing to say but your life isn’t over just because he isn’t here to watch you live it.” Now it’s Mirio’s voice that cracks and he clears his throat, hand flexing against where it rests on your upper arm. “He left you the tools to live however you want. You have a successful business, you are young and beautiful and…”

He trails off and you blink at him silently. The true feelings he has tried so desperately to hide for the years he has known you are seeping out of him. How much longer can he possibly hold it in before the pressure starts to cause cracks? Before it spills out of him wildly, an ode to you from a boy who has loved you since seventeen?

You stop him from spiraling, opening your mouth to speak while tears escape over his finger and roll down your face.

“I think I’m scared, Mirio.”

This is the first time you’ve admitted it, even to yourself. An undefined future is a terrifying prospect and while Toshinori was here, you were guaranteed to always have him. Scheduled pills and injections, showers and quality of life activities. Even your work is unstructured outside of your scheduled annual audits, only being called upon when you are needed.

He holds you against him, leaning down to press his lips against your forehead. This could be just what you need and although he worries about pushing boundaries, you prove his worries wrong by snuggling further into his side. Your tears drip onto the cotton of his t-shirt and he uses his second hand to begin wiping them away, shushing you gently and affectionately.

“It’s okay to be afraid, he wouldn’t judge you for that, but don’t let it make you waste the opportunity to live exactly how you want.” His words are comforting and you nod against his chest, sniffling. “There is no right or wrong way to handle this.”

This is the first time anyone has told you that it’s okay to not know what to do right now. Not that you’ve ever asked, too fearful of making missteps to try and prevent them at all. You need reassurance and although you’ve been given it, it’s hard not to seek it from a man you’ve found so much comfort in over the past few months. He has been vulnerable with you, it seems only right to do the same for him in return.

Sighing, you unbury your face from his chest. “Do you think I’m doing okay?”

There is a version of you, more than a decade younger than you are now, that lives in Mirio’s mind and he sees her in the way you look up at him with uncertain eyes. It strikes him how long the two of you have known each other; how long he has been dancing around his feelings for you. He nods, removing his arm from your shoulder to cup your cheeks in his palms.

The urge to kiss away those tears is strong but he talks himself down, tilting your head until your gazes fully meet. All of the love he has kept to himself for a decade further threatens to spill out. He stops himself, self restraint a requirement of being a hero after all, and his thumbs gently stroke the rose petal soft skin beneath them.

“You’re doing better with all of this than anyone else ever could.”

There are no words he has ever meant more than these besides the ones he decides to keep to himself, saving the oft considered ‘I love you’ for another day.

“Thank you. For everything. I kind of worry I’m asking too much from you,” you rush to apologize and he keeps his grip on your face gentle but firm.

“You can ask me for anything you need.”

He means it more than he meant his promise to the last man that loved you.

“Alright, I think we’ve had as much fun as we are going to have. Babysitters get paid hourly, you know.”

Katsuki wraps his arm around his wife’s shoulders, pulling her close to him beneath the same lights the six of you used to drink under a long time ago while saying his goodbye. He has never been much of a drinker and hasn’t indulged even a bit tonight but his wife’s relaxed expression gives away how many beers she’s had and you giggle at her, squeezing her hand as she walks by on their way out.

“Be careful you two,” you call after them, Mirio turning to look at you while you glance over your shoulder. Only Midoriya and his wife remain seated across from you two, snuggled in the corner of their side of the booth. Deku’s ever lovely better half raises a brow and nudges her husband in the ribs gently, subtly motioning toward where the pair of you sit.

This is the first night you’ve really enjoyed yourself in the six months since you’ve lost Toshinori. It has been a great walk down a memory lane you haven’t bothered to explore in a long time.

“Gosh, he’s so grumpy,” you laugh to yourself and Mirio giggles beside you, looking as smitten as he always does. Izuku notices it and looks down at his wife, the two of them communicating wordlessly by the time you glance at them. “I’m guessing you two are next to head home?” You tease, your own brain slightly hazy from the few beers you’ve allowed yourself to indulge in.

A little voice in the back of your head made you fear showing your face in public, especially after the scrutiny that came so few months ago, but nobody has taken a second glance at your group of friends despite all of the men in the group landing in the top five of the Hero standings. It appears whatever backlash was sparked has faded quickly. You make a note to thank the classmates you had that now work in the media who were likely behind it, hoping you remember it later.

You haven’t just had a good time tonight, you’ve had a great one. Smiling gratefully, you look over at your two remaining friends.

“Like Kacchan said, babysitters are paid hourly,” Deku raises his brows and shrugs. His wife kisses his cheek, beginning to slide out of the booth while he holds onto her hand and follows.

Mirio nods at Izuku and smiles at his wife, having known the two of them since high school as well, the same story with the now gone Bakugou’s.

“Get that beautiful wife of yours home safe, Deku.” He jokes with a chuckle and his friend laughs in response, reaching across the table to pat his shoulder and then yours.

It’s hard for him to believe how much has changed over these years but how much has remained the same simultaneously. His close friends married their high school sweethearts and settled into their family life, kids and recitals and dinner parties. A piece of him has wondered for years if that could have been the two of you as well if he’d left less up to chance as a young man.

Does it do any good to wonder? Mirio doesn’t know yet he does often, tonight especially.

“You ready to go?”

A little lost in your own world, you look up at him with your eyebrows raised and nod slowly. He looks so handsome, even in this poorly lit room, and heat rises in your face straight to the tips of your ears. It has been a long time since you’ve felt that particular heat, the kind that makes your stomach flip flop.

Would it be wrong of you to ask him if he wants to hang out with you for a little while longer? You don’t have ill intentions in wanting to spend time with him, at least that’s what you tell yourself, and the few beers have made you feel brave.

“Do you wanna hang out with me for a little while? We can just go back to the house or find somewhere else or…” you trail off slightly, a little self conscious. Do you seem desperate? Lonely? Annoying? “If you don’t want to though, I understand.”

Finishing your question hurriedly, you glance up at Mirio who looks at you with that same earnest stare he has given you for years. There are depths in those pretty blue eyes, humor and pain that he has experienced and joy and so much. There is simply so much more to this man than most people know and unexpectedly, it isn’t just your face that feels too hot, it’s the entire room.

“Of course I do. Let me just take you home and we can hang out there, that way I’m not keeping a lady out too late.”

He knows he’s taking a risk by being outright flirtatious with you after months of trying to keep it subtle. He is but a man and knows that look, though. That ‘through the lashes, lips slightly parted, beautiful woman who wants to spend time with you’ look. He’d be a fool to say no, even if you two do nothing but talk for hours. There’s nothing else he’d rather do with the remnants of his night anyway.

“After you,” he offers with a bright grin. The few beers he has had make his cheeks pink and you want to reach out and touch them but refrain, uncertain of how to do all of this correctly. You’ve never really dated, outside of a few hookups in your early twenties, so this is truly foreign territory. It’s a lot to wrestle with the guilt of moving on, something you have reluctantly admitted to yourself it seems you’re doing, and the weight of grief on your shoulders at all times.

When does it ever get better or at the very least, when does it become less of a struggle?

Saving those questions for another, less fun evening you slide out of the booth and he follows after, placing his hand against your back to walk you out of the bar. It feels natural, his fingers splayed across your spine and heat once again blooms. It’s embarrassing to feel so excited by sheer touch.

Your relationship with Toshinori was never sexual. Always a companion more so than a lover despite the deep love that bloomed between the two of you, you spent a lot of nights in a different bed exploring your own body while he slept in his own room down the hall. This was always the arrangement, comfortable for both of you. He was physically incapable of having sex and you never wanted to make him feel like less because of it, still complimenting his appearance and doing your best to make him feel attractive. Which he was, even until the end that smile and those jovial blue eyes had the ability to light up a room.

It’s just different with Mirio. This isn’t the first time that heat has bloomed beneath your belly button, begging you to follow it all the way down a rabbit hole you aren’t quite sure you are ready for and the alcohol is making it worse tonight. If he can tell, he’s being a gentleman about it, something to be grateful about.

The two of you stand in the now cool autumn night air, the city still noisy outside. The breeze chills your warm cheeks and you look up at him to find him glancing down at you, wearing an expression that tells him some of the same things on your mind are on his.

“What are you thinking about?”

The question is laced with humor, as most of what the man says tends to be, and you feel caught with your pants down. Playing it off with a giggle, you decide to push back; to make him feel like he’s the one being surveyed instead.

“Why didn’t you kiss me when we were in high school?”

The topic of first kisses came up tonight, your friends reminiscing about how they’ve shared their first everything together throughout the years, and you recall yours being lackluster. Some guy you went to college with named Dai who slobbered all over your face your first year.

Certainly not who you would’ve preferred sharing a kiss with.

Your question has caught Mirio off guard and he rubs his neck, scrunching his nose and refusing to make eye contact with you. The truth is that he was simply too afraid to make a move and by the time he was able to, it felt improper given the conflict and all that happened.

It was hardly a time for making a move on the girl you had a crush on and the two of you just went your separate ways after that. He became a Pro Hero, working his way up into the top 15 within his first year and then the top 10 the next and only climbing from there, you went to college to pursue your public safety certification. By the time you were able to reconnect in your early twenties, your lives had diverged so wildly it no longer felt appropriate to, well, go after you.

“I don’t know,” he finally says. “I think I was afraid you didn’t like me back.” Snorting, you attempt to stifle your laughter. He glances down at you, tilting his head, feigning offense.

“Really? I’m being honest with you and you’re going to laugh at me?”

Wrapping your arm around his bicep, you attempt damage control by resting your head against him. A breathy sigh leaves you and you glance upward to catch him staring down at you once again.

“I had such a crush on you that even Hatsume gave me shit about it.” You speak through your nose, attempting the now most sought after equipment outfitter in all of Japan's higher voice and inflection. “Where’s your little boyfriend, magnet girl?”

The two of you devolve into a fit of childish giggles, not unlike the ones you shared back then, and without warning he leans in close to you. You still cling to his bicep but he’s bent at the waist, lips inches from yours, one of his hands reaching to rest against the side of your neck.

“Can I make up for it now?”

Ocean eyes search yours, pleading for an answer. All of that heat courses through your body at once and without putting too much thought into any real consequence, you nod. Just a kiss won’t hurt either of you, for old time’s sake regardless of what may or may not be blooming here. Mirio closes the distance between the two of you and gently brushes his lips against yours, gentlemanly and chivalrous even in the throes his tremendous need to touch and feel and be close to you, and you whimper when he pulls away sooner than you liked.

“Was that okay?”

Giggling, you lean in and kiss him again to give him his reply. It was more than okay, it was everything you’ve ever dreamed of. His lips are soft, a sharp comparison to the well kept and bulky rest of him that you have had to stop yourself from eyeing hungrily on more than one occasion. His mouth tastes like salt and beer and love.

Pure love lives on his tongue that is working its way into your mouth while he hurriedly backs you two into a narrow alleyway between the bar you just left and the building next to it. His knee rests between your barely parted legs and your hands reach for anything they can grab, forearms and biceps and his shoulders and chest. You touch recklessly, one hand sliding up the side of his neck to cup his jaw and the other rubbing circles just beneath the hem of his shirt, above his belt buckle.

“Hey,” he stops you unexpectedly to catch his breath, chest heaving while he glances down at you. “I want to keep this going but I have to tell you first that I love you.”

There it is. The thing he has been keeping to himself for twelve long, torturous years. Mirio loves you so fiercely he wonders how he’s managed to even breathe the last 12 years without you by his side, your laughter and light filling his days and nights no matter how they go.

How could he ever live without you again? He isn’t sure that he could.

Blinking up at him, you slide your hand further up his face and tousle his blonde hair between your fingers.

“I don’t care if it’s too soon for you to say it back or if you ever will but I love you. I have for such a long time it hurts to keep it to myself any longer.”

The smile on your face turns into a full blown grin, fingers still snaked in his hair. Maybe it’s too soon, maybe lust is winning the battle between your wits and your heart or maybe this is a chance to say something you’ve felt for longer than you realized.

“I love you too, Mirio.”

It doesn’t make your love for Toshinori any less real to admit you love the man who has been by your side for virtually 24 hours a day for the last six months and long before that too.

He leans back in and kisses you again, silencing any thoughts other than the two of you and it leaves you breathless, gently grinding against his jean clad thigh and sucking on his tongue. Another pause and he pulls away, cupping your face.

“Take me home with you.”

It isn’t a plea of desperation but one of pure unadulterated need. He needs you, any way you’ll let him have you, tonight.

Nodding, you close the distance and press your lips against his.

“Let’s go.”

In all the time that has passed since you lost Toshinori, your home feels a little brighter when you arise in it each day.

It feels like somewhere you can build your own life now instead of living trapped inside the memory of his. You were concerned that changing anything about this place would rob you of the comfort of having once loved the man who left it to your care but you know he wouldn’t want you to stand in one place for long. All those months ago, Mirio was right when he told you that Toshinori would want you to make the best of what you’ve been given.

Move forward, he’d assure you if he were still here. Be yourself and find happiness.

Despite all the ways you’re still healing, you have.

You think about him every day. You will forever, regardless of the nature of your relationship and how other people view it. Some days the memory of him cuts through you like a knife, especially the last year of your life with him spent doing a lot more caretaking than you’d done the prior four, and other days it’s a gentle breeze. A whisper and reminder that he’s watching you, he loves you, he’s proud of you.

You’ve done the All Might legacy well, donating a large chunk of his fortune back to the communities he so committedly served. Scholarships for students who want to go to hero academies but may not have the pedigree or wealth to let them in, rebuilding the last remnants of an over decade old war that still scar areas of Musutafu tourists don’t visit.

The dreams you have yet to fulfill with what you’ve been provided make your future seem more full than ever. Hospitals bearing his name, education about the balance of hero life and personal life, safety equipment becoming better than ever. Your ambitions are big and you will make them all come true, a vow you made to him on the day he died even if he wasn’t cognizant enough to understand what you were saying.

This is all for him, dearly departed, a man you cared so deeply about you would’ve taken care of him for ten more years if you had to. You’re grateful it didn’t come to that if only for his sake, the suffering his ailing body was facing more than you like to think about even today, but all things considered it was a good life.

Even the papers have commended the woman they once referred to as an amoral opportunist.

Maybe you aren’t so bad after all.

And today when your feet hit the ground, the sun rises and fills the room with light through the gauzy curtains you put up a few months back. The cat you recently adopted twines himself around your legs and looks up at you expectantly, breakfast already a few minutes late. You couldn’t go long without having something new to take care of, the cat was once a beat up little thing brought to you by Lemillion himself one evening after a shift that has grown into a demanding beast.

“Saving little lost cats is a bit cliche, isn’t it?” You joked when he unzipped his hooded sweatshirt and produced the fuzzy, green eyed lump that mewed at you the moment he saw you. Mirio grinned and half shrugged. “Yeah but I’m good at it, right?”

Good he is, you think looking over at his still sleeping form in your bed.

For some, it may be too soon to cautiously lend your heart to another man. You love Toshinori and always will, the impact he left on your life is profound in ways you’ll discover for years to come, but a part of you has always loved Mirio even if circumstances prevented the pair of you from being together. He was once a silly teenager who was too afraid to ask you to be his girlfriend when he graduated high school, satisfied to leave things up to fate, and now he is a grown man who has been by your side through the most painful loss of your life so far, holding you together on the days when you were worried you would crumble.

Both of you are grateful that fate decided well although she took her time and brought a lot of pain on her way.

Instead of getting out of bed, you lean down and pick up your now purring cat and slide back into bed beside him, his hands instinctively reaching behind him for your thighs to pull you closer.

“I didn’t think you were awake,” you whisper and he chuckles, scarred hand running up the expanse of your thigh while your cat climbs onto his shoulder and licks his face. There’s no use in trying to carefully swat the creature away so he lets him settle onto the pillow above his head.

“I always notice when you get up and I have to fight the urge to follow you.”

Giggling, you wrap yourself around his back and rest your cheek between his bare shoulder blades.

“Why’s that?”

He finally turns to face you, blue eyes glancing down at the thing he has wanted for years. Your unmade, half awake face. The domesticity of your cat purring above both of your heads. The promise of packing to take a week off from heroics to go and enjoy a far off destination neither of you have been together.

“In case I ever lose you again,” he admits vulnerably and you smile up at him, hand reaching to cup his cheek.

The half awake mumblings have more truth to them then you could possibly imagine, fear that something else will hurt you or pull you away from him. Fear that he’s going to waste his time again, precious days he has always wanted to spend with you meaning nothing because he’s too cowardly to fight for what he wants. Maybe a younger version of Mirio Togata would have let this happen but not this one, older and wiser that he is.

The ring he plans on proposing to you with this week is nestled in his suitcase, buried beneath too many pairs of socks and probably too few pairs of boxers. He won’t even mind a long engagement, if you need one, as long as he knows forever with you is what waits on the other side.

“You don’t have to worry about that. I think we’re stuck together for life after all we’ve been through.”

As he promised his mentor a few months over a year ago, he will ensure that you are.

#all might x reader #toshinori yagi x reader #mirio togata x reader #lemillion x reader #kendall writes #cw death

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hoes4lino · 4 months

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A Love Letter I wish It Didn’t Exist 💌

A/N: I been doubting to post this, since this story is an adaptation on a real letter I made about my first love. Hope you guys enjoy! (This is also written in first person)

Genre: Romantic, First love, Angst, Suggestive

Word count: 5k

Reading Time: Approx 18 min

Pairing: Reader x Minho

Warnings: Mentions of substance, Reader can’t express emotions, some suggestive content nothing too explicit, happy ending? is as happy as real life can get.

Do you ever wish to fall in love? Hold someone’s hand in the cold breeze of autumn as the leaves fall. Be someone’s lover as the flowers bloom in spring. Be someone’s warmth during the freezing temperatures of winter? Be someone’s shadow on the strong sun rays of summer?

Yeah, well this doesn’t work for me.

Why you may ask, Ever since I was a child I was spoiled with love from my family and friends, growing up I wondered what I did in my past life to deserve such love.

As I went through my teens I started to despise such attention, why? I wish I knew. Growing up I didn’t have any crushes at all, just people I admired. I would often hear my friends babble about boys, fantasies I wished I never heard, and rant about their love life.

Though I never understood why, why couldn’t I be like them? Feel such a desire to love someone and have that feeling reciprocated.

Faking crushes became part of my life during middle school and high school, I felt like an outcast whenever my friends spoke about love, they were all experienced, yet I barely knew how to love myself.

I started dating a boy, not because I was in love but because I felt I had to, everyone I knew was experienced, yet I kept turning down boys.

I craved to get that tingly feeling my friends always talked about. I wanted to know what was the big deal about, and why people found it so addictive.

What is wrong with me?

This is the phrase that would haunt my mind every time I stared at couples walking on the cold breeze of autumn. ———

My high school years felt like something experimental, I went to parties, drank alcohol, did some weed, and hooked up… not because I was into those things but because I wanted to feel. I wanted to care about something. Yet I never felt anything but regret.

Why can’t I express my emotions? I know they are there. It’s as if they are locked up in a box inside of me.

On the first day of college, I was in a room filled with strangers, not a single familiar face, I felt like an outcast. Everyone is sitting next to someone but me.

As I sat at the back of the class next to a window, my eyes followed the leaves that fell from the trees announcing the beginning of fall.

My mind drifted into a peaceful scenario, everyone’s voices being muted by my brain as I took in such a beautiful scene. My chest felt heavy with emptiness, I would usually have a friend to share this moment with, yet here I sat alone.

I must have been too distracted cause I didn’t notice when he sat next to me, my body slightly jumping at the sudden appearance of the boy who sat next to me.

He was rather handsome, sharp nose, cat-like eyes, dark brown hair, and plump lips. He didn’t say a word though I know he must have felt my eyes on him, maybe he was trying to not embarrass me or maybe he was waiting for me to say something, yet I didn’t.

Once I was done staring I went back to stare at my window, noticing him shifting to look at it too, I couldn’t help but feel some warmth.

Why did I feel like that? He is just a stranger looking at the window… but why out of all these strangers he somehow make me feel at ease?

Freshmen year of college passed by, and I didn’t talk to this man, god knows what’s his name, but for some reason, he felt familiar, as if we had some type of bond. Maybe I’m crazy.

Our interactions that year went from walking to class together to sharing a couple of words when needed during class, it wasn’t until the last marking period that I realized I spent most of my time with him yet we were never close enough.

I felt weird. It felt weird.

Like imagine spending 70% of your day with the same guy for an entire school year and yet you don’t know his name or talk to him at all.

What’s crazier to me is that I feel like I got to know him through that silence… is this feeling what my friends call delusional? Is this real at all? Is it all my head? Can he feel it too?

Summer depression hit me like a truck, I’m not a sad person why do I feel this way? Empty… it’s like my body is craving something yet I don’t know what. I started getting frustrated, I thought spending time with friends and family would fix it, yet it didn’t… I’m missing a part… something.

During summer I went to a bunch of places, all of them filled with hundreds of people, yet my mind seemed to look for one each time… is it… him? ———

Sophomore year of college… I was too excited for my liking, I am usually terrified of new school years, afraid for what awaits me, but today my heart seems to beat faster than usual and it's not because I am nervous, it feels as if I'm waiting for something and I can’t wait to see it.

My day went by pretty fast, I went to my first two classes my heart filling with disappointment each time I scanned the room. At that moment I didn’t exactly know what I was looking for, I never really felt that way before.

The cold breeze was hitting my face as I sat in my business class, my mind focused on whatever I was working on.

“Is this seat taken?”

His voice sent shivers down my body, and my ears immediately recognized his soothing voice.

I look up to glare at him, the breeze coming from the window slightly moving his hair. I could feel my heart beating fast, my tummy doing backflips in excitement… I felt happy… but why?

“No, you can have it” I could feel my voice trembling as I spoke. As soon as he sat down I could only think of one thing.

Should I talk to him? What if I annoy him?

These thoughts consumed my head until the slight shift of his gaze moved toward me, my head immediately snapped to look at him.

“It's been a while,” He said softly with a thin smile on his face, I am not quite sure how I looked at that moment but I felt so self-conscious as I could see his eyes looking at me.

I nodded in response not quite sure what to say to that, I had a million thoughts running through my head, why do I feel this way around him?

“Minho” He continued, it must have been the way my eyes blinked in confusion as he slightly laughed “I figured you didn’t know my name, since we never really introduced ourselves last year” He explained. I wish the earth could eat me whole at this moment, I’m being too awkward. Say something y/n. SAY SOMETHING.

“uh oh,” I chuckled nervously, jesus christ why do I feel like imma puke right here “I’m y/n” I smiled, my gaze moving back to my computer. I was not too fond of the way I was feeling, It felt unknown and that scared me a lot.

Like why am I craving his attention but at the same time I wished he could disappear and leave me alone?

From that day on we became good friends, We would often greet each other and have casual conversations during class.

How much I loved your attention Lee Minho, yet you were clueless about it. If I had to name something I loved about him, I would stay and talk for hours.

“Y/n you are clearly in love” Those words repeated over and over in my head as my friend's voice muffled in the background. Love? “Y/n?” Is this how love feels like? “Y/N!”

I turn to look at my friend as she nudged my shoulder “All you talk about recently is about that damn boy, maybe you are finally catching feelings”

That night I stared at my ceiling, my eyes feeling heavy. Even when I was half asleep I would think of him. It wasn’t until I was almost asleep that I realized I was smiling hard at the thought of seeing him tomorrow.

I quickly sat on my bed, the darkness of my room surrounding me. Is this what love feels like? On one side I felt warm, but on the other side, I felt cold and afraid… what if he doesn’t like me? what if he does? Am I confused? Do I like him? Why him out of everyone? Why now and not before?

The next day I was so excited to see him, waking up a little earlier than usual to look good for him. I made my way through the lengthy hallways of our college when I spotted him. I felt nervous as I walked up to him, my heart falling to my stomach as I spotted him next to this beautiful girl.

She had long black straight hair, she was short and had a fit body, her curves were out of this world… and her face… don’t get me started.

I turned around with heavy feet, immediately searching for a bathroom.

I locked myself into a stall, it was 8:36 am.

Rule #3 don’t cry. Ever since I was a child I learned that crying doesn’t solve anything and that crying makes things worse, therefore I always hold my tears no matter how big the urge to cry.

In all my years of living, I never felt such an urge to cry as I did at that moment. I sat on the toilet concentrating on my breathing. The number of thoughts filling my mind was suffocating, I needed fresh air. Why do I feel like this? Why does my heart feel so heavy?

I left the stall to go to my business class, seeing him that day felt different, I was mad at him for some reason. Why? Is it because of the girl? He can have friends, is not like we are something, I remind myself.

That day I rushed to get home, the intrigue to know who this girl was, eating me alive.

I should have stayed curious.

Jasmine Kim, president of the architecture club, Asian student union, business manager of the robotics club, Academic weapon, and athletic.

How come have I never seen her before?

“ouuuu seems someone is jealous” My friend teased me through the phone, making me even more mad. I called her seeking help not to be made fun of. Ever since I did an FBI-type research on this girl I can’t help but compare myself to her. I never knew how to love myself, and this… this brought me to my lowest.

I hate feeling this way. I wouldn't say I like it. But no matter how mad I was, I couldn’t hate him.

Sophomore year went flying by, Minho seemed to grow close to Jasmine, and as much I wish I could say that didn’t affect me… it did. I decided to distance myself, after all, it was all a one-sided thing and it was for my well-being… right?

He had no clue about my feelings, so it wouldn’t matter if I suddenly disappeared from his life.

I felt selfish during this time, selfish of the way I treated him, I would ignore him during class or even his texts and he wouldn’t know why. He didn’t deserve this treatment, he didn’t deserve to be affected by my own emotions. ———

It’s the last summer days of 2023. Junior year started and it feels like it’s about to end. This year I haven’t seen Minho at all, my heart dies to see him but we have no classes together and my tight schedule keeps me busy from thinking of him.

“Remember Minho, The guy you had a crush on” My friend spoke on the the phone as I was too concentrated doing homework “What about him” I asked as I felt a knot forming in my stomach. I hated the way his name could get under my skin.

“He just joined my division in the robotics club and let me tell you that man is a complete dickhead” For some reason I felt the urge to fight back, defend him, and ask for an explanation; but I was too embarrassed for feeling this way I ignored her words “He is a man after all” Is all I managed to say, the curiosity eating me alive as I tried to not seem interested on what he could do to upset my friend.

After I found out about him being on the robotics club, I found myself going to the club often, I wasn’t part of it but I would make excuses to go and get glimpses of him.

The way he looked with his goggles on and thin layers of sweat on his skin. That man was dreamy no matter what he did.

No matter what I did to forget him, he would always be on my mind. In every room with hundreds of people, he would be the one I would look for.

“Excuse me” I raised my gaze to be met with a blond guy, he was the opposite of Minho, blond hair, a soft innocent face, freckles, and light brown eyes.

He was indeed pretty, and I would be lying if I said I wasn’t interested in knowing who this man was “I’m Felix” He said cheerfully.

I couldn’t help but compare him with Minho, unlike Minho he was friendly and straightforward “I’ve seen you around and I would like to get to know you”

To this day I feel so selfish for what I did. I thought that having someone's attention would make me forget you, yet you would still live rent-free on my head 24/7. I would often catch myself thinking about you. How was your day? Why do you look tired? Did you eat anything?

How much I wished I could get you out of my mind Lee Minho.

Putting him to the side, I and Felix spent a lot of time together, we had an art history class together, so we often met at the library to finish our projects.

“Would you like to go out for some beers with me and my friends?”

How much I wish I would of said no that day, maybe, just maybe that would have changed the track of things now. ———

I showed up, wearing my favorite cargo pants and a cute lace top, I had my favorite jewelry on and I went for a half-up hairstyle. I didn’t wanna go full-on dress up but I wanted to look classy and comfy at the same time.

How much I wish I would have worn something else.

I could feel my heart dropping to my stomach as the first person I spotted was him.

There are at least 100 people in this bar, yet there he is, sitting under the dim neon lights of the bar, he is wearing a full-on black outfit, his shirt unbuttoned showing a bit of his chest.

Talk about a man whore.

I jolt as I feel the warmth of a hand on my waist, turning around to be met with Felix. To this day I remember all this crystal clear, detail to detail.

I could tell he already had a couple of shots by the way he would slur his words.

“This is my homie Minho” He patted his back as he introduced me to him “We have known each other since high school, he can be our best man at our wedding”

I tried my best to not scoff at his words, wedding? We not even dating. I can tell Minho didn’t like this comment either by the way his posture became stiff and sat properly.

“Damn Felix, already feeling drunk,” He said in a tone that I can’t decipher to this day. It sounded annoyed but at the same time playful.

Minho stood from his chair and let Felix take it, he ordered him another drink and took me to another table.

“So you and Felix huh?” He sounded annoyed. At that moment I felt like I had to give him an explanation “We are not dating” I said briefly, why did I say that? That’s not his business.

“I see,” he said shortly. I remember the way my heart would pound, my hands were sweaty and I could feel my stomach doing backflips. I have never been so nervous around him till this day.

Maybe it was because it was our first time alone outside of school hours… or the shot of tequila I had was hitting.

As we both sat at a table away from our friends I could feel the way his eyes would travel around my body, I felt self-conscious.

The way his eyes would burn my skin is a feeling I miss with my whole heart. The chokehold you have on me Lee Minho.

“I love your necklace” He leaned to take a better look, his hand hesitating to grab the little Swarovski swan that hung on my neck.

His breath tickled my neck and I could feel myself shiver. I'm not sure if he was doing this on purpose but he was driving me crazy.

“Thank you, It’s my first ever expensive necklace,” I said as I tried to ignore the warmth of his breath on my neck “I bought it for myself on my birthday” I smiled as his gaze moved to look at my eyes.

“You gifted it to yourself?” I nodded “It’s expensive, I didn’t expect someone else to get it for me” I’m not sure if I was tripping but by the look on his face I could tell he wasn’t pleased with my answer.

His eyes looked at me with a million expressions written in them, the soft neon lights of the bar shone like a galaxy in them.

“I would treat you like a princess if you were mine”

I hate you.

How can you say that to me and then leave Lee Minho?

To this day I can hear your voice saying those words to me at night. It’s like if you engraved it on my brain so that every time I'm about to go to sleep I can hear it.

After he told me those words, I felt him getting closer, his hand on my hand as his eyes begged me for permission.

“May I?” His voice was as soft as the singing of an angel. Next thing I remember his plump lips were against mine. It was a sincere kiss.

There was no way he liked me back… I mean… I saw the way he treated Jasmine. This had to be a sick joke. I gently pushed him away, his face pouting as my lips left his.

“I’m sorry if I overstepped” He backed away, as he was getting ready to leave. I panicked. I didn’t want him to leave.

I grabbed his wrist out of instinct “What’s your relationship with Jasmine?” My impulsive thoughts got the best of me. He looked at me with a puzzled look “Jasmine?” He chuckled.

“Answer me,” I said coldly, no expression on my face. I was trying to not crack in front of him. I wanted to hear the answer I craved for months.

“She is a mutual childhood friend, she is captain of my robotics subdivision, so we keep in contact” His words lingered in the air as I tried to fit the pieces together in my brain.

Does that mean he likes me? Why he kissed me?

“Is that why you pulled away?” He asked softly as if he was trying not to scare me away. On the other hand, I was embarrassed, I didn’t have the guts to say yes so I simply nodded.

He chuckled one more time.

If he only knew how much I adored his laugh, the way it would fill my heart with joy. His laugh was like listening to my favorite song for the first time. How much I miss it.

He sat down again and leaned closer, his hand cupping my cheek as he stared at me with soft eyes. How much I wanted to kill him in that moment, why would he ever look at me with such a gaze?

“That was my first kiss” My world stopped. What? No way… he was playing games with me.

Before I could even talk he stood up from his chair and offered me a hand.

“Would you dance with me?”

That night we danced under the neon lights of the bar, without a single worry of the world. I was shy but with him, I felt like the most confident person in the room.

This was the beginning of an intoxicating relationship. ———

Maybe our story didn’t last long but the time we spent together is something I will treasure my whole life.

Dating Minho was like walking by the shore late at night. It was peaceful, too good to be true. I was too drunk on his love I wished it would never fade away.

I'm grateful for the amazing experience he gave me those years we dated. I learned to love, but most importantly I learned to love myself.

“You look beautiful” I opened my eyes to see him laying next to me, eyes in awe as he moved my hair away from my face. “Ur lying” I giggled trying to cover myself from his gaze. It was 8am, this man was definitely blind in love if he thought I looked beautiful in the morning.

That day something felt off, he was not the type to speak his mind, he talked through gestures not words. Yet today he was too talkative. Complimented me every chance he got.

It was around 7pm, he was in the kitchen cooking dinner while I was in our bed scrolling through TikTok mindlessly. I heard a notification coming off from his phone. Im not the type to check my boyfriend’s phone but the notifications weren’t stopping.

I stood up to pick it up from his desk and go leave it to him, whoever was texting definitely had something to say; however as I saw who was texting him, I couldn’t help myself but take a peek.

‘Minho you need to tell her now’

‘Don’t make this harder for yourself’

‘Think about her happiness’

I was puzzled as I read the texts, it was Jasmine who was sending them… what she meant by that… I was startle when he called me name “y/n dinner is ready”

I placed his phone down. Anxiety consuming me, tears threatening to fall, thoughts suffocating my mind.

As I sat in the dining table I contemplated whether I should confront him or not, he looked happy. What was he hiding.

“If someone ever asked me what I love the most about you” His words brought me back from my thoughts. I looked at him, my face had no expression, I didn’t know how to feel. “I would say your eyes” I could see the way his face lit as he spoke about me, his cheeks flushing as he giggled like a teenage girl in love.

I couldn’t help but smile, this was something I loved about him, he always knew how to make me smile. “What is this compliment for?” I knew he had something to say, I looked directly into his eyes, trying to make him crack. Reveal his secret.

“Nothing special, I have always loved your eyes but I was too shy to say it” He said vaguely while he ate his pasta “And why say it now?” I never took my eyes off him, I saw the way his eyes looked at me nervously, he was definitely hiding something.

He didn’t answer my question, he just smiled “Would you love me even if we were kilometers far away?” His tone was serious, I felt shivers running down my spine as I felt the coldness from the question.

“Of course I would silly, why?” I said trying to kill the tension that suddenly sparked in the room. He remained quiet but then he shook it off and offered me a smile, though there was something off about it.

We were preparing to go to bed, I was already changed into my nightgown while I brushed my teeth. Minho was taking a quick shower before bed, although he was taking longer than usual, so I decided to wait for him in bed.

About an hour had passed my eyes felt heavy, debating whether I should check on him or try to sleep, His behavior today kept worrying me, he was acting weird and he wasn’t getting off the shower. I didn’t like the tension that has been lingering since dinner.

I entered the bathroom, the shower was still on, the hot water causing the mirror to fog “Honey?” I said softly, the water turning off at the sound of my voice. He took his towel and dry himself vaguely, wrapping it around his waist.

He stood in front of me, hair wet, eyes glossy and lips parted. Im not quite sure if it was steam trapped in the bathroom or his breath taking appearance that made it hard to breathe.

Without notice he kissed my lips, his body pushing me towards the counter, I gasped as he picked me up so I would sat on the counter, he kept kissing me, so desperate so passionate. Something was off.

Minho was the type to take things slow yet today he was kissing me like it was his last time. That’s when my stomach dropped, the texts flashed in my head, his glossy eyes, the long shower, his question during dinner.

He was leaving me.

I placed my hands on his shoulder, gently pushing him, my heart shattering into pieces as I saw his tears rolling down his cheeks. I was quiet. Should I say something? Should I let him talk first?

He just stood in front of me, his gaze on my chest. I took a deep breath, a breath that held back my emotions, I know Minho and the last thing he would want to see is me crying for him.

I gently placed a hand on his cheek, ever so lightly like I was touching his fragile soul, and slowly I leaned to kiss his lips.

“I love you” I muttered in his lips, his hands moving to wrap me into a tight hug. This was the first time in three years of our relationship I ever said ‘I love you’ ———

The next morning I was cradled in his arms, my fingertips gently rubbing the scratch marks I left from last night.

I looked up to see him in a peaceful slumber. I looked at his plump lips I was busy kissing last night, I heard his stable heartbeat that brought peace to my mind, and I felt his warm skin touching mine. I wish I could capture all this in time. In all our years of knowing each other, that day felt like we truly got to know each other.

“I’m leaving to study abroad” My heart stopped. His words repeated in my head, tears threatening to fall “I’ll go wherever you go” My body betrayed me as tears rolled down my cheeks.

“Y/N” He hugged me as I tried to push him away “Your life is here, you can’t just abandon everything for me” He started crying as he hugged me tighter. I kept fighting back I wanted to push him away and look him in the eyes.

“You are my everything Minho” I screamed into his chest, my words being muffled. I could hear his heart-stopping, and that’s when I realized he was equally heartbroken as me.

I stopped fighting to hug him back, breaking into an inconsolable crying, he cried with me, our bodies dropping to the floor as we never separated from each other.

I had to let go. ———

A year passed after our break up, our memories playing vividly every time I walked by our favorite restaurant or the park he took me on our first date.

It was a cold day in the fall of 2023, I was making my way into the subway. I was listening to our shared playlist. I always listen to it when I have a bad day, it brings me comfort, and our memories warm my heart.

That’s when I saw him. My eyes must have been playing with my heart, I didn’t have time to process it when I found myself running towards him.

“Minho..” I said shyly, I hadn’t seen him in a year and now he dared to appear. His expression when he saw me copied mine. We were both equally stunned to see each other.

He hugged me without saying a single word, though I’m not surprised he spoke through actions, not words.

However, this is not a Disney fairytale where everything has a happy ending. We caught up with each other’s life, we had a great time together, and our connection didn’t fade away although we spent a year with no communication; however, it was time to say goodbye again.

It’s up to fate if our future is meant to be together, but something we both left clear is that we will always love each other.

So in conclusion. Lee Minho I hate you for stealing my heart but at the same time the love I profound you is a light in my heart that will never turn off no matter what the Universe has planned for us.

A love letter I wish it didn’t exist.

The end

A/N: The amount of tears I shed writing this is astonishing- anyway hope y’all liked it, the timeline in this is very inaccurate and my brain kept messing up, so if something looks off please tell me. Thank you <3

#lee know #lino zone #lee know fluff #lee minho x reader #lee know fanfic #minho x reader #skz fluff #lee know angst #lee know smut #minho angst #minho fluff #stray kids imagine #lee know imagines #skz scenarios #stray kids fluff

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meowzfordayz · 4 months

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they're-both-so-helpless

Rengoku Kyojuro x Reader

Word Count: ~600

CW: explicit language, mild sexual content

Author’s Note: starting 2024 off w/ Kyojuro❣️ Began writing this while at work… winter makes for slow days when selling ice cream. 😆 Pt 2 coming ~soon aka prob within the next 24 hrs since my shift’s almost over lol.

emphasis-on-helpless, helplessly-in-love

Missing your boyfriend is tough… especially when he isn’t actually your boyfriend.

“He might as well be!” Mitsuri says whenever she’s with you, “I swear you check your phone at least twice as often ever since you became friends.” The tips of your ears warm, eyes glued to the newest Snap of Kyojuro’s cheerful face. “Will you at least show me?” Mitsuri huffs, head tilting to catch a glance, “Aww, he’s so cute!” “But he’s not my boyfriend,” you mutter, quickly snapping a blurry photo of your melting ice cream. Eyes gleaming, Mitsuri hums knowingly, slinging a giddy arm around you without another word. You silently thank her gesture of respecting your privacy—something your other friend, Shinobu, rarely does—hurriedly eating a spoonful of your dessert as he snaps back: You got ice cream without me?! ☹️ I fear I am mortally wounded. 💔 You appease him with a Snap of your own frown, promising him i’ll bring u next time 🥺🍦 pointedly ignoring Mitsuri’s smooching noises when Kyojuro fires back with It’s a date! 😁😋 Sooo maybe nobody respects your privacy.

You’ve never considered yourself shy, but you have resigned yourself to being perpetually friendzoned, a bit too person-next-door in a would-never-date-their-neighbor way rather than a person-next-door who also is-totally-down-to-date-their-handsome-neighbor way. Like puffing out your chest while walking on the sidewalk to convey confidence and get people out of your path, you’ve mastered the art of giving off don’t-fuck-with-me vibes — despite desperately wanting to fuck.

And therein lies the problem-not-actually-a-problem with one Rengoku Kyojuro. Also known as, Mitsuri’s favorite barista. Also known as, immediately flirted with you when Mitsuri finally took you to his cafe for brunch, writing his number on your cup and everything. Also known as, might not have been flirting with you and in fact was just being nice because he has yet to properly-not-jokingly ask you on a real-official-non-platonic date. You’ve survived a blustery autumn of pumpkin spice lattes and too many free muffins, persevered through a surprisingly snug winter of It’s my special recipe hot chocolates and ice skating with the gang (Mitsuri, Shinobu, Kyojuro, and his insufferable friend Tengen), and felt wistfully hopeful as spring came and went, having your voice compared to blossoming flowers and your smile to tender sunshine… only to dream alone, his contagious grin and addictingly cozy hugs lingering even as you woke with the sensation of tears in your eyes.

—

“You should tell him how you feel!” Shinobu sighs, an exasperated, endeared sound as she watches you bemoan your adoration.

“Oh yeah, because he definitely feels the same after a year of literally zero signs!”

“He called your ice cream plans last week a date,” Mitsuri chimes in, rubbing your shoulders as she exchanges a they’re-both-so-helpless look with Shinobu.

“Platonically,” you shoot back, sagging into Mitsuri’s touch, “He’s so gentlemanly and sweet, I never know whether we’re flirting or he’s simply being polite! Friendly! A friend!”

“I repeat,” Shinobu deadpans, “Tell him how you feel.”

You pout, chewing on your upper lip as you mumble, “And if he doesn’t like me?”

“Nonsense!” Mitsuri declares brightly, squeezing you—Owww—a little too hard, “He doesn’t talk to anyone else like he talks to you.”

“I talk to you differently than I talk to Shinobu. Doesn’t mean anything,” you grumble.

“I’m trying to uplift you,” Mitsuri huffs, playfully pulling on your earlobe, “Trust us. Okay? He would absolutely date you if he knew you were interested in dating.”

“Since when have I said I’m not interested?!” you wail in dismay.

“You’ve never said you are interested,” Shinobu quips.

You scowl at her as she tosses a good natured pillow at you, Mitsuri clicking her tongue as you squish the pillow against your sternum, heart aching when your phone lights up Rengoku Kyojuro sent you a Snap • 🔥.

#kyojuro rengoku #rengoku kyojuro #kyojuro x reader #rengoku x reader #flame hashira #drabble #modern au #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer

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softestqueeen · 5 months

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my little flower pt. 1

pairing: stalker!könig (cod) x reader

summary: You were just minding your business, planting some new flowers in your garden, when suddenly a (charming) man in a mask abducts you to use you for his pleasure. You are incredibly conflicted; the stranger seems to be kinda nice but also incredibly selfish at the same time.

warnings: 18+ MDNI!!! stalking, kidnapping, non-con, rape, soft!König (kinda), soft dom!könig (again kinda), p in v sex, oral (both receiving), pet names, overstimulation, breeding, heavy breeding, cum kink (does that even exist?), cock warming, creampie

wordcount: 2897 words

a/n: This was requested on my ao3, so I hope I’m doing it justice!! I’m also sorry it took me some time to get to it, but it was super fun to write!! I also apologize for all the puns in this fic, there were just too many good opportunities (even though some were kinda cheesy)! And now enjoy <3

Read it here on my ao3!!

It was a beautiful day out and you were enjoying the warm spring sun. You have been waiting for this day all winter long and could now finally enjoy gardening again.

You gathered all your tools again and grabbed the flower seeds you bought last year but couldn’t plant anymore due to the autumn that always came way too fast for your liking. You put on your gardening trousers and slipped on your gardening gloves; your excitement evident in your humming.

You went out into your garden, which was small but couldn’t be more perfect for your yearly projects. You started to dig a few holes into the loosened earth. You went back into the house to get the flower seeds before diving right back into your work.

You were just about to cover the next hole when you suddenly heard a ruffling behind you. You didn’t pay it too much mind though and tried to go back to work. It could have been a cat that mistook your garden for theirs.

But then you heard a voice that seemed a little bit too close for your liking, considering that you lived alone and didn’t expect any company today.

“Out early today, I see little flower.” A shiver ran down your spine. The voice was deep and there was a slight accent evident in it. Was that a German accent?

You were still kneeling on the floor, but still turned around anyways. The man who just talked to you was tall. But not just tall that man was a giant. You had to strain your neck to look at his face, if anybody had been watching the two of you like this, it had to look ridiculous. He must have been around 6”10 at least. He was wearing a tight uniform and a mask which he wore under a helmet. His eyes were a rich and deep green, fitting perfectly to the red stripes that adorned his mask, which was more a dark sheet than a mask.

What was this – admittingly kinda hot – guy doing in your garden? And what did he know about your gardening habits? That was definitely more than a tad scary. But you seemed to regain the control over you body and decided to ask the question that was burning on your tongue.

“Who are you and what the fuck are you doing in my garden?” You were pointing your hand shovel at him while saying this. Your tone gave away that you were not amused at all by someone disturbing you during your cherished gardening time.

“Of course, I’m here to get you my little flower.” he answered you before adding “My name is König and I have been watching you since you moved in here. I am your shadow and even though you’ve never seen me, I’ve been here all the time, watching you in your garden, watching you when you’re out with friends or when you are going to work. But now you are going to come with me and from now on I’ll be the only one you’ll see.”

He said that with a certain confidence in his voice that made again a shiver run down your spine. Did he just threaten to abduct you? Why couldn’t this have happened AFTER the summer? You were now not just scared for your life but also annoyed with the stranger in front of you.

You were still quiet – or more speechless, because if you were able to speak you would have definitely said something to defend your honour at least a little bit – so König continued with his little speech.

“I will give you a choice: either you come with me willingly, or I will simply take you with me. Either way, this is going to have the same outcome, so I recommend just going with me.”

Well, that was not as much of a choice as you hoped. You were too stubborn to just submit to this random guy that appeared out of nowhere in your garden, so you just crossed your arms and looked at him like you could kill him with your hard gaze.

“You’re not going to just come with me, are you?”, he asked you rather annoyed, probably having hoped for a little less resistance.

“Who in their right mind would just go with a complete stranger, who just broke into their house and to make it even worse in their garden!”, you were getting louder and louder by the second, hoping this whole situation was just a dream that you would wake up from.

König let out a sigh before pulling out a white cloth and murmuring to himself, wieso muss alles immer so schwer sein?

It all happened in a flash: he knelt down on the floor in front of you and pressed the white cloth against your face, covering your mouth and nose. He put his other hand to the back of your head, keeping you in place while you struggled against him, but to no avail. You knew you had no chance against this almost 7 feet tall monster in front of you, still you tried to fight against him, when suddenly everything went dark.

You awoke on an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar room. Where the fuck where you?! And why did your head hurt? You were just in your garde- Oh. Jep, this was unfortunately not a dream. Definitely not a dream.

You tried to get a good look at your surroundings. The room was quite large and looked actually kinda nice. There was of course the bed that you were still laying on, a bedside table, what seems to be some kind of make up vanity, a chair, a large bookshelf and most importantly two doors. You assumed one led to a bathroom and the other one to the hallway.

The good sign was, that there were windows. Curtains were currently covering them, but they were there, which meant that you were not locked up in some weird basement or an old attic.

You were still trying to gain all your senses back when you suddenly heard footsteps outside of the door. You didn’t have enough time to lay back down before you could hear a key turning and the door opening.

“I see, my little violet has blossomed. How are you feeling? You’ve been out longer than I expected.”, he seemed to almost regret drugging you, but his face was still covered, so you couldn’t really tell if he was sincere or if it was all a trick.

“Well, how would you feel if someone drugged and kidnapped you?”, you shot back, now irritated again. Even though you couldn’t see it, König’s brows furrowed at your snarky remark. He though you liked him back.

But it didn’t matter, he was going to make you his and you will want it. He would do anything for you.

He took a step towards you, and you slid higher up the bed. You were still feeling a little bit woozy from the drugs, so the sudden movement made you a bit dizzy.

“Please don’t hurt me.”, you managed to whimper out.

“Don’t worry, my little flower. I’m going to take good care of you from now on.”, he promised you, even though to you it sounded more like a threat. He took another step towards the bed, but you were already up against the headboard, so you could do nothing but squirm under his intense gaze that held so many promises.

“If you keep on squirming like that, I’ll have to tie you down, flower.”, he threatened you again. You were scared shitless. You couldn’t have defended yourself even if you weren’t drugged right now. You wondered for a brief moment if maybe he had hoped that he could drug you so he could do to you whatever he wanted. Your blood froze as you suddenly became aware of the fact that you were only wearing a pair of white panties.

But you didn’t even own any, so he did not just undress you, but put on clothes he had prepared for you. You were feeling sick to your stomach and only snapped out of it when you felt a gloved hand against your ankle. He was sitting on the foot of the bed and had apparently noticed that you zoned out, though he remained quiet.

You just realized that you were at this man’s complete mercy. In this moment he could do anything to you, and you could not protest.

He took off his helmet and pulled down the mask that was still keeping his face from you. You hated yourself for admitting this, but he was handsome. His face was all sharp angles and beautiful features. Plump lips, high cheekbones, prominent jaw and still the same piercing green eyes that mustered you.

He threw his discarded helmet and mask carelessly to the side before he started to kiss up your legs.

“I’m going to make you feel so good, my perfect violet.”, he said in between kisses and the first tear rolled down your face. He kissed up both of your legs before he also kissed over your torso and arms. He hasn’t been too close to your face yet thank God.

He locked eyes with you as he pulled down your panties, the hunger evident in his eyes. he broke eye contact to look at your now exposed cunt. He also threw away your panties, leaving you completely naked. Your limbs lay there limp, too heavy to move. You had resigned to your fate and would just let him do what he had to before he hopefully would mercifully let you go.

He was still staring at your exposed cunt like it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He leaned down and planted kisses on the top of your thighs, your hips, and loins. You could do nothing but lay there and let him use you.

“I’m going to pump that pussy full until my seed takes root in your womb and a child will sprout within you. Then you will have to stay with me forever. I can’t wait, little flower.”, he almost said it to himself before he dived in and started planting open mouthed kisses on your pussy. He seemed to have all the time in the world, as he played with you. He let his tongue glide between your folds and circled your clit. He kept a steady rhythm and – even though you hated to admit it – you were coming closer to your release.

You didn’t have any control over you body anymore and came with a drawn-out moan. König didn’t let up his torture though and just kept on playing with your pussy long after your orgasm had subsided. He seemed to quite enjoy himself, as you could feel him smiling against you. Silent moans and whimpers were falling from your lips, and you involuntarily moved your hips against him when you felt him insert a finger into your tight cunt. The intrusion brought you embarrassingly close again, and it didn’t take long for the next orgasm to roll over you.

You don’t know how many more orgasm he gave you, because everything was kind of blurry and was so overwhelming. You did notice however when he pulled away, planting a last kiss on your sensitive and overstimulated clit. König stood up again and was now standing next to the bed, your gaze following his every move.

He unzipped his trousers and took out his flushed and rock-hard cock that was definitely to big to fit into any of your holes. The man gripped the base of his cock before slowly pumping it a few times. He let go of it to grab your hand and pull you to him with ease, your body still limp. He placed your head on the edge of the bed, so it was hanging off it, while your body stayed on the bed.

“Open up, little flower. Let me fuck that pretty mouth, huh? Don’t you think I deserve a little treat after treating you so well.”, he cooed before inserting his thumb between your lips, as to pry open your mouth. You were feeling like a puddle of slime and couldn’t have resisted anyways.

König inserted his leaking cock into your mouth and slowly entered you until you swallowed his cock completely. You could feel his pelvis against your nose and his cock down your throat. If you weren’t so numb, you would have definitely gagged. You head was still tilted, so König had a perfect view of the bulge that his dick was causing.

He pulled out almost completely before slamming back into you. He didn’t give you any time to adjust to his size or the feeling of him intruding in your mouth. He started to fuck your mouth in earnest, growling and groaning above you. You pressed your eyes closed, hoping the moment would just end.

Your chest and face were flushed, now not just from the uncomfortable situation but also from the shame that you were feeling, because it didn’t feel completely bad to know that you were the cause of his pleasure, even though you didn’t have do anything. He ate you out until your limbs turned to putty and now used your mouth and throat like they had seriously wronged him.

Suddenly there was a shift, and he didn’t just groan but also praise you. Telling you how good your mouth felt and how well you were doing, making something weird bloom in your chest. The situation wasn’t as bad as anticipated, even though you still wished you were never born.

König increased his speed before pulling out and painting your face, breasts, chest and stomach with his hot white cum. You were finally able to properly breath again, the heaviness on your chest now lightly lifting again.

You licked your lips, involuntarily tasting his surprisingly sweet cum. You were still upside down with your head, thus feeling a little nit light handed. He gripped your waist with one of his beefy hands and threw you back on the bed like you were a rag doll and weighed nothing.

He crawled on top of your sprawled out body before he whispered into your ear “It would be a shame to let all that cum go to waste, wouldn’t it?”

He leaned back and started to collect his cum with one of his thick fingers, before he pushed his cum into your sensitive pussy. He kept on doing it until you hit yet another high before he decided he played enough with you.

“I made a promise to you, my beautiful rose, and I’m a man who stays true to his word”, he unfortunately remined you. He was still fully dressed in his unform, only his helmet and mask were missing, and his cock was standing erect against his clothed stomach again.

He got on his knees between your spread legs, using one of his hands to keep your shaking legs open and the other one to guide his aching cock to your tight hole. He guided himself to your cunt and started to ease himself into you with slow thrusts, completely unlike his earlier assault on your throat.

Once he was settled inside of you it felt like he was splitting you open. He gave you a few seconds to adjust before he started to thrust in and out of you. He was unable to hold his rhythm though, and started to go faster again, a string of sorrysorrysorry leaving his lips.

“You just feel so good.”, he almost moaned out while he again increased his speed, now slamming into you like there’s no tomorrow. König could feel you squeezing him, your next orgasm already fast approaching.

“Cum on my cock, little flower, cum on daddy’s cock.”, he commanded, and your body obliged, a bone crushing orgasm washing over you. But König was not yet finished with you.

He pulled out of you, flipped you around with ease so your ass was sticking out while your face was pressed into one of the pillows. You would have collapsed if he didn’t have a bruising grip on your hips.

He slipped his fat cock inside of you again and started to chase his release. He fucked you like you were a doll, there just for his pleasure and you had a sneaky feeling that that was exactly what you were from now on. He fucked you like he hated you and when you felt his dick twitch inside of you, the both of you came simultaneously.

You clamped down on his cock, making it hard for him to move. He stilled inside of you while he filled you with ropes of his creamy cum, collapsing on top of you and covering you with his large body. You could feel his heavy breathing next to your ear becoming calmer, before you noticed that he had fallen asleep, his cock still nestled inside of you and his weight on top of you.

The last thought you had before passing out from exhaustion, was that this was your life from now on.

And you weren’t sure if that was the best or worst thing that had ever happened to you.

a/n: I hope you enjoyed this! If so, please leave some notes, likes, reblogs, comments and feedback is also very much appreciated! I am currently working on a part 2, so stay tunes! You can also request things here and on my ao3!

Here you can read part 2!

taglist: @silvermagnolias @milywatermelon @BigBananaa

#call of duty #cod #cod modern warfare #cod x reader #könig x reader #könig cod #könig call of duty #konig x reader #könig mw2 #cod mw2 #ao3 #no y/n #reader insert #x reader #fem reader #female reader #afab reader #stalking #tw stalking

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itsabouttimex2 · 27 days

Text

Primal Moon

Twice a year; once in spring and once in autumn, a verdant moon rises to bring the bestial instincts of non-humans to light. Celestials and demons alike struggle to keep hold of themselves, something ancient welling up within them and shifting their thoughts and feelings to a more animalistic state.

Today, the first Primal Moon of the year has risen.

This isn’t the MK you know. This isn’t the goofy and upbeat boy who used to spend his nights stargazing on the roof of his house with you as Pigsy yelled for ‘you idiots to come down before gravity brought you down’. The sweet and kind boy who cuddled up under a blanket with you during each winter, pointing out each far-fetched figure he could find in the nimbostratus clouds.

The person sitting next to you is not that boy.

The river below you has a pleasant vibe to it, the water a dark blue in the moonlight. The current flows gently, moving at a slow, steady pace. The water is clean and crystal clear, and a light layer of fog drapes the surface. It remains undisturbed, untouched. As far as streams go, this one is soothingly peaceful. You’d enjoy it more if your dearest friend didn’t have his hands knuckle-deep in your hair.

The demon- and he is a demon, you’re sure of that, even if he insisted on ‘mystic monkey’- slowly picks through the contents of your messy tresses, examining your scalp closely. He doesn’t hesitate to eat the bits of leaves and twigs he finds, a sort of kindness that you might appreciate if he was in the right state of mind. His tail winds around your ankle, a safe-measure to prevent you from falling from the tree you both sit in.

This is more a display of dominance than kindness, a show of power. Proof that he can do whatever he wants to you, and all that can be done is to play along politely.

His fingers hit a snag, causing the monkey demon to chuff triumphantly. From your hair he pulls a massive bug, a squirming caterpillar so large that it winds around his pointer finger three times over. The sight of it makes him salivate- and he’s clearly considering eating it right in front of you.

And then the demon takes a closer look at you. Scared eyes. Quivering lips. Shaking form.

“…you can have it, Rookie.”

With a mote of protectiveness surfacing inside him, he chooses not to down the grub on the spot. Instead, MK pushes it towards your lips, smearing them with the creature’s wet body. Under the influence of the viridescent light cast from above, this is kindness- feeding his pack before himself.

You gag at the slimy sensation and try to pull away, but MK’s tail tightens around your ankle to keep you close. “Eat,” he says, growing angry and firm. “Eat, Rookie. Don’t get sick.”

Short and blunt language, a sign that he’s losing himself further to the moon’s sway. Anger loosens MK’s grip on himself, sending him further into a bestial mindset.

MK looks down at you expectantly, canines exposed and threatening. He’s waiting for you to obey. He expects this. He knows how this goes- or how it would go, if he were a base animal. Every demon and celestial knows that once the moon reaches a verdant peak, one’s primal instincts come to the fore. It’s been like this forever, time and time again for millennia.

But you wait just a second too long.

With incredible speed, he grabs your leg and throws you out of the towering tree, tossing you down to the ground.

Before you fall more than a few terrifying feet, his tail snags your waist to keep you dangling in midair- he could easily let you plummet, if he pleased. With the moon to cloud his mind, MK’s aggression is a hundredfold. The world around him seems to become a shade more vivid, and he stares at you with unbridled rage in his animalistic eyes.

“I’ll eat it,” you shriek in terror, clinging to his lithe tail as you sob. “Please, I’m sorry! Don’t drop me, please! MK, please, please, I’m sorry, please!”

He chuckles at your desperate pleas, amused but severely displeased and unimpressed. Still, the boy hauls you up and brings you to his chest.

Once you’re safe in his arms, MK presses his sharp canines into the delicate flesh of your neck, showing how easily he could tear your throat out if he really wanted to. This is intended remind you just how powerless you are against him, and it proves his point quite well. His arms squeeze you tight against him, rather painfully. “Be good, Rookie. Or gravity will discipline you before I do.”

Oh, that hurts. It’s like something that Pigsy would say. No doubt that the fatherly pig is someone that MK cherishes even now, calling on his words subconsciously. And honestly? You want him right now. You want the chef to wrap you up in his warm arms, to hold you against his chest and thump your back just a little too hard. What you wouldn’t give to have a bowl of his home-made noodles.

But all you’ve got now is a sizable caterpillar and a set of canines threatening to tear.

Slowly, he looks up to meet your eyes. In return, you awkwardly chatter your teeth, the proper display of submission when being looked at by a higher ranking monkey- you’re just one little human, and it doesn’t come to you as might him or one of his ‘troop members’.

But it’s good enough for MK. He takes the opportunity to finally stuff the bug into your mouth, pulling his teeth from your vulnerable neck. You cry a little harder with every crunch and chew, nausea and newfound trauma bubbling inside you. But under the threat of being tossed or mutilated, you manage to swallow.

Finally, he’s appeased. A little bit of softness resurfaces in his eyes, a hand moving to brush your hair back.

“Want me to take you down, Rookie?”

A little too choked up to respond, you wordlessly nod instead. He swipes your tears away with a fluid hand, then you’re on his back as he clambers down the tree.

You’re deposited somewhat gently on the ground, MK dusting your back off before he sends you on your own way.

You don’t have to look far for something interesting- near the river a few dozen feet away is a beaten-up monkey demon, one you recognize as a former foe of your friends.

He’s been watching you, it seems.

Macaque beckons to you with a gentle hand, his golden eyes unusually soft, most likely born of unexpected sympathy. You’re both at the bottom rung of this ‘troop’, though he barely edges you out for a still pitiful ‘second-to-last’.

Though you’ve never had much interaction with the demon, the lunar cycle amplifies the innate desire most living creatures have to look out for their young and family, for their troops and packs. It’s an instinctual urge that’s difficult to keep suppressed for any person, no matter what the species. The only problem is that who is and isn’t family or friend tends to blur severely under the verdant moonlight.

It shifts your thoughts and feelings, your wants and desires. Macaque has never had children, never wanted them- but something unnatural and overwhelming is telling him to take you as his own.

Macaque is careful not to hurt you as his deft hands pull you close, oddly gentle about the process.

“You- you…” Come on, say something. Anything. Talking is better than crying. Maybe it’ll help you calm down. “You don’t… you don’t have six ears.”

Macaque grins, starting to untangle your hair knot by knot. It seems like he was hoping for a distraction too.

“But everyone stills calls me the Six-Eared Macaque, yeah?”

“Yeah. Tell me why? Please?”

He doesn’t miss the pleading note in your tone. It seems you’re both in need of company and distractions.

“It’s a reference to an old saying, kiddo. ‘A secret is not safe between six ears’, you know? Two ears for person telling the secret, first. Another pair for the person they’re telling, obviously. And you know who the sixth is?”

“…you?”

“Exactly. Well, anyone who’s listening without permission, I guess. The book- you’ve read Journey to the West, right? The book gets a lot of stuff wrong. It’s told by outsiders who were watching, not the actual people in it. They got a few things wrong here and there, kid.”

Hesitantly, you lean into his chest. Usually you’re more guarded around strangers, but today has been long and hard- you both need and want comfort, even if it comes from someone you hardly know.

Macaque suddenly locks an arm around your waist, pulling you against him. His touch is powerful, but he’s putting a lot of effort into keeping it gentle.

“Play dead,” he urgently hisses. “Breath, but don’t move. Do not flinch.”

Too scared to ask for context, you slump against his chest like you’ve fallen asleep, steadying your breathing against his fur.

“Is my cub doing well, bud?” The tone is sickeningly sweet, belonging to none other than the illustrious Sun Wukong, the Great Sage Equal to Heaven. He leans in close until his fur rustles on your back, playing with your hair.

Macaque lifts a finger to his his lips, his elbow coming to rest heavily on the back of your neck so he can force your head down further.

“They just fell asleep.”

Wukong moves his hands from your hair to Macaque’s fur, beginning to groom through it as MK had done to you. As uncomfortable as it had been for a human like you, none of the monkeys minded- their fur was built for it, after all.

“Let me have them,” the Great Sage says. His word can’t be denied- he’s in charge here, and what he says goes, no matter what. “I want to hold my cub.” There’s no harshness or cruelty present in his voice, just a simple command. He says it with the urgency of telling someone to shut your door or turn off your light before they leave.

And Macaque knows he should. His rival won’t hurt you, wouldn’t dare lay even a single harmful finger on you- you would be entirely safe from harm, coddled by the king of Flower Fruit Mountain.

And he can’t stop Wukong from taking you. Macaque had challenged the ginger simian for command over this temporary troop just a few hours ago, and gotten beaten to the ground for it.

He had been forced to accept comfort afterwards, fed with sweet fruits and gently held as his bruises slowly faded- the Monkey King was not an unkind alpha. The worst he had done was snap a power-limiting seal onto Macaque to prevent any further challenges or a potential runaway scenario.

No good can come from holding onto you like this. Macaque knows that he needs to bite the bullet and give you up.

But… he just doesn’t want to.

Sun Wukong frowns, watching his rival’s hesitation with disapproval. Perhaps the unusual lunar cycle also makes demons impatient- his body thrums with the need to lash out, to take and break and command; all impulses one usually suppresses with their own iron will. He leans forward and hisses softly into Macaque’s ear, a warning.

“They might wake up if you move them,” he weakly argues, holding you just a bit tighter. “And cubs need their sleep to grow.”

The bubbling animalistic urges inside of Wukong die down, appeased by Macaque’s sound reasoning. “We can lie together,” he offers, nestling into the grass. “Without moving them too much.” The king pats the ground beside him, but it’s not really an offer- just another command.

Macaque does as told, laying on his right side with you in his arms. And right before Wukong can move in to cage you from the left, MK slides between you both, sandwiching himself between the king and you.

For the most part, Wukong is unbothered. He squishes himself closer, stretching his arms out to envelop MK, then snagging his tail around your arm. Macaque’s tail winds around MK’s legs, MK wraps his around your waist.

And you are so perfectly trapped by this furry tangle of love that you have no choice but to drift into darkness.

Suddenly you’re awake and morning approaches, a few birdsong chirps adding themselves to the list of nocturnal sounds. Their cheerful voices slowly grow louder with the approach of the sun. The sky gradually shifts from dark blue to a soft pink, slowly growing brighter as dawn approaches. With the rising light, the forest grows less and less peaceful, the chirps and calls of the various forest life growing ever more frequent. Yet, despite the added noise, the terrain remains safe and quiet. The wind blows through the branches of the trees gently, almost like it's speaking silently.

One day down.

Six to go.

#Platonic Yandere #Yandere Lego Monkie Kid #Yandere LMK #Yandere MK #MK #Yandere Sun Wukong #Sun Wukong #Yandere Macaque #Macaque #Monkiefam #Primal Moon

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misguidedasgardian · 11 months

Text

The Winter Sun (28)

28. King's Landing

MASTERLIST

Summary: Challenges and conclusions

Pairing: Cregan Stark x Fem!Targaryen Reader

Warnings: Cursing, medieval and asoiaf customs, AGE GAP, Cregan is 12 years OLDER than reader), arranged marriage, talks about death and war, might miss some warnings

+18, MINORS DNI

Wordcount: 2.3k

Notes: a wrap up chapter! but don’t worry! more chapters “Into the future” will follow! ❤️ after a time jump!

You were feeding Jonaerys while Cregan packed, you giggled because you truly looked like a normal couple, not the Lord and Lady of biggest country in the seven Kingdoms

You were going down to King’s landing

Not only to bend the knee, but because you needed to gather your army for them to march North, you were going to sail south and then North again with your men, no more marching

You needed to make sure all uprisings against Rhaenyra were eliminated before that too, as much as a gathering with the leaders of the seven great houses

You giggled as you saw another one of Autumn’s puppies biting your slippers, she wanted to be introduced to your son

This little wolf was as silver as your son’s hair, he had showed up the very next day of your arrival and hadn't left your side.

His brother, Rickon’s pup showed up and attacked his sister, and they started rolling around and playing to bite each other, they were so cute

Cregans said they grew up slowly but surely, right now they had the height of your knee, their ears already stood up and they barked loudly.

They were the cutest when they tried to howl, but not at four in the morning though

You found Cregan staring, and once you caught him, he smiled wickedly

“What?”, you whispered

“Nothing”, he said mindlessly

“What is it?”, you giggled. He gave you a side look, and a devastatingly handsome smile

“I don’t want to push you”, he whispered, and you laughed

“Cregan Stark you will tell me and you will tell me right now!”, you demanded with a laugh. He sat by your side and kissed the side of your face, then he kissed you again in your ear, making you whimper slightly

“I always found it so sexy when you feed our son”, he whispered huskily in your ear.

“Cregan…”, you giggled, “stop it”, you said playfully. He saw how relaxed you where, so he took a chance and kissed your neck gently, making you giggle some more

“I missed you so much”, he said, and you looked at him

“I missed you too”, you say, and you shared an intimate kiss

You separated when your baby demanded attention, and Cregan took him from you letting you fix your dress

You looked at Cregan putting his baby over his shoulder and making him burp gently, he made eye contact with you and smiled warmly. He was the best father, and the best husband

“I don’t want you and the babies to go”, he admitted, “but I’m going to die if I leave you”, you smiled

“I understand”, you said, “I want to go, and the babies will go wherever we will”, he smiled, caressing Jonaerys’ back

Rickon woke up from his nap, and he had heard yours and Cregan’s voice, so he stood up on his crib, grabbing tightly onto the wooden rail.

“Rickon!”, you greeted with a wide smile, he smiled at you, you wanted to cry because you had missed the first time your son stood up alone. He had grown so much, his head was now filled with dark curls, he was so cute. You grabbed him and placed him against your hip. He playfully grabbed one of your silver strands and janked a little

It took a while but you finally felt connected to your eldest baby again, he was such a sweet little boy, giggly and smart

“Our little family”, whispered Cregan looking at you and he seemed so proud, “can’t wait for you to give me another one”, you laughed shortly

“You’ll have to wait a little”

“That is alright”, he said gently

“I hope it’s a little girl this time”, you whispered, and he smiled even widely

“I hope she looks like you”, he said softly, you smiled sweetly, “is everything ready for our departure?”

“We leave tomorrow first thing in the morning”, he said back, and you only nodded

The very next morning, as your left Winter’s Town down the King’s Road, you realized the trip was going to be hellish with two babies under two years old, but you didn’t think you could make it more then four months without them, and going on dragonback was not an option, so it was going to be a two month long trip.

You looked out the window of the carriage and you saw your dragon Vhaelar flying above you

You arrived in King’s Landing two full moons after.

Your marriage was stronger, the bond with your babies was as well, it was challenging, and slow, but finally you felt relieved when you spotted the Northerner army’s camp in the valley next to the entrance to King’s Landing

“Lord Cregan Stark, and his family, the Princess (Y/N) and their children, Rickon and Jonaerys Stark”, someone presented, and you exited the carriage.

Cregan was there, he had ridden his horse and helped you out, taking Rickon in his arms while you cradled Jonaerys in his arms.

The soldiers clapped for you, receiving their lord, they seemed happy, victorious. And all their gazes went to your babies, wanting to see them

They had helped take the capital, and soon Cregan was going to lead them back to the North.

But first you needed to secure your family

You spend a night in a tent with the army, Cregan needed to meet with the captains and the lords that lead parts of the army

IN the meantime you put your babies to sleep, an art that you have learned in those two months of march. You were glad now you could stay still, even though tomorrow you were going to make the trip to King’s Landing, you were close.

Jonaerys spent almost all day and all night sleeping, but Rickon got fuzzy since he stood in the carriage all day and needed to burn energy. But finally he fell asleep in your caring arms, and you placed him in a cradle, next to the one of his baby brother.

In the midst of night the wolf came back to you, he seemed tired, but happy and content, even more so when he saw you. And the sleeping babies in their cribs

“You are such a good mother”, you stood from where you were seating, and he held you in his strong arms, and he kissed you hungrily, and you kissed him right back, “I want another one”, he whispered against your wet lips

“I want more too”, you whispered, “but…”, he immediately stopped, looking down at you from his great height, “can we wait a little bit?”, you asked, and he smiled warmly

“I’d wait for you until the end of time”, he whispered, dropping one last peck on you lips before he hugged you tightly against his chest, you hugged him back, more tightly, “I don’t want to push you”

“You are not”, you assured him, smiling at him, he cradled your face in his hands and kissed you gently, “when we are back home, safe with our little family, then we should think about enlarging it”, you offered cheekily. He smiled warmly

“Of course”

He held you tightly against him that night.

It was true, since you got together again he treated you like you were made of glass, and you were glad he was coming back to his horny self around you.

Early in the morning, you resumed your journey and entered the city. From the army a small guard was found, forming the household of your husband, and of course, of your household, you were a Stark and the Northerners considered you as one. Soldiers wearing the Direwolf proudly on their chest guarded you when you entered King’s Landing and then into the Red Keep.

You were received by a small comitive of members of the court, but none of them mattered as Jacaerys himself appeared amongst the crown, everyone parting to let him trough

“Your grace”, you greeted, with Jonaerys in your arms, you bowed lightly, but he would have none of it as he hugged you carefully of no crushing your baby

“Welcome home”, he said in your ear, he then greeted your little one, but shortly, since he then turned to Cregan and they also shared a hug

“Welcome to the Red Keep”, he said then to all of you as a group, he turned to you again, and to your baby, “Congratulations dear aunt”, he whispered, “he is beautiful”, he then turned to Rickon who threw his little arms at him, and Jace took him in his arms

“He likes you”, said Cregan proudly, as all members of court had come to gaze upon you and your family, you guessed they were curious about how the family of a Stark and a Targaryen would look like.

“He has grown so much”, cooed Jacaerys with a childish voice, making your son giggle

You entered the Keep following Jacaerys who held your son in his arms, but unbeknown to you, one prisoner of the Keep was just taking his day walk, and catched a glimpse of your baby, your silver haired baby.

. . .

You were introduced to the Queen and King of the seven kingdoms, even though you had known them forever. Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, and her King consort Daemon Targaryen

They looked like a powerful couple, she was seating on the throne and he was standing right next to her. You bend the knee to them, Cregan by your side, your children being held by trusted men at the side.

Once the formalities were over, you were invited to a feast in your honor, but it was some sort of cover…

So they could swoon over your babies.

It was no secret Rhaenyra loved children, (she had six of them, and two more by law), so she fussed over Rickon, and Daemon over Jonaerys

“Jonaerys”, he cooed, and then he looked at you, “he looks like your father”

“I know”, you said proudly, he only smirked

“It is a strange name for a Valyrian”

“Well, he has the looks but we wanted to name him after Cregan’s friend who saved his life”

“An original name for an original child”, he said softly, and you nodded, but then he leaned in, a seriousness on his face and voice, “is it Cregan’s?”, you whimpered, and your face said it all, “does he…?”

“To him, it’s his son”, you said firmly, he only nodded

“If that ever changes, you know you can come here”, he said then, and you smiled

“It will never change”, you said firmly, and he was pleased

“He is a good man”, he sentenced, “your father would have been pleased with this union”, and you felt a warmth in your chest. “And he would be the best and most proud grandfather”, he said, and you beamed

Daemon had never been close to you, not in the slightest, sometimes you swore he didn’t even want to be in the same room as you, but now, everything seemed different. Since you were an adult, and reached for him in Dragonstone and now here, he seemed even happy to see you, and now with his son in his arms.

“It would please me than in the future, he would come to the capital, to be educated alongside Aegon and Viserys”, he said happily, and you smiled, “I’d say Rickon too but I’m guessing Cregan will not let him out of his sight”

“If their dragon eggs hatch, they will happily make the journey”, you offered, and he smiled, pleased

“We’d like that”, he said

“I apologize”, he whispered, “If it ever seemed like I didn’t want to see you”, he said, and you gasped in surprise, “I loved my brother and losing him really broke me”

“I understand”, you said, and he gave you a little smile that reminded you of your father.

But you were interrupted, by Rhaenyra, who called everyone to their seats to start the feast

Maids took both your sons, you felt a bit uncomfortab;e, but you didn't want to interrupt your family’s reunion

“Now that we all gathered here”, she started with a shy smile, “the entirety of House Targaryen”, she said, and it was true, her family, and you, the last remaining, “for us”, she greeted, raising her cup, and everyone followed, of course Cregan kissed the side of your face quickly, “for those lost to us”, she said with unshed tears, meaning her son Luke and Rhaenys, “and for those to come”, she whispered, placing her hand on her belly, and everyone cheered

The feast continued with cheer and happiness.

Everyone was alright.

. . .

You realized Cregan and his army served a purpose. For the coming weeks people all over the Kingdoms started to show up, the Greens…

The Lannisters, Hightowers, everyone came to the Capital to offer their respects, everyone had to march through the northerner army, and everyone surrendered

That is when you saw Alicent Hightower, brought to the throne room. She was fine as ever, wearing a green dress, and a pair of gold chains around her wrists. But she was used as a pawn, for the HIghtowers to surrender

You knew Aemond had not been on trial yet, so he was still alive, but he was not mentioned in the trails for the heads of the Green houses.

Trials and long weeks followed. And you felt strangely safe within the keep, Rhaenyra had shown mercy, and that truly made everyone feel the war was over, and the country could finally heal.

You smiled as you caressed the royal decreet declaring Sara a true Stark, signed by Rhaenyra herself, and you couldn’t wait to give it to her, no one deserves it more than her, you expected many proposals for her hand would follow.

You breathed in the filthy air of King’s Landing and you finally felt at peace, even though you wanted to return home to Winterfell, to raise your children and maybe, just maybe have a couple more…

Cregan entered the room, smiling as he found you by the window

“There you are”, he whispered, you smiled back

“I think I’m ready”, you whispered, and he looked back in amazement, “I want another one”

taglist! <3

@severewobblerlightdragon @missusnora @stargaryenx @poppyreader @chainsawsangel @court-jester-stuff @batprincess1013 @eddiepicker

@lyannesworld @arujee @kamisunshine @mss-nthng @partypoison00 @grimistangel @elleclairez @may-machin @prettykinkysoul @justagurlwithships @champomiel

@laura-naruto-fan1998 @zoleea-exultant @devotedlythoughtfulanchor @zoleea-exultant @llleon666 @dark-night-sky-99 @bitchigoteverythingissues @harrypotteranna23-blog@esposadomd @ajanauia @phantomtea19 @let-love-bleeds-red @kishie8 @dreamingofyourmoons @esposadomd @sandronebabyy @kemillyfreitas @trifoliumviridi @dreamingofyourmoons @darling-jace @biblichorr @ivvypg @mendes-bae @borikenlove @tssf-imagines @praline357 @alitaar @prettykinkysoul @aelora-a @a-mexican-waffle @ateliefloresdaprimavera @alexa4040 @lrboyd @anditsmywholeheart @weaselyss @scarlettqueen190 @deeeeexx @cloudroomblog @dreaming-of-the-reality @yentroucnagol @crazymusicgirl104 @toodlesxcuddles @thanyatargaryen @mxtokko @bellstwd @elaena-aerrin

#misguidedwinter #cregan stark x reader #cregan #cregan x you #cregan x reader #cregan stark #hbo house of the dragon #house of the dragon #house targaryen #targaryen!oc #targaryen!reader

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fineghkst · 10 months

Text

Too late (part II)

Once Rhysand invites Eris to the winter solstice, you got all the attention from the heir of the Autumn Court, making a jealous Azriel.

i almost gave up posting this bc idk if it’s good, but here it is 😖

warnings: a little angst and kinda suggestive at the end

if you find any mistakes please let me know!

part I

[masterlist]

No one knew where Azriel was.

He simply disappeared after the disaster during the winter solstice. All his clothes and weapons were left in his room, except the Truth Teller. Eveything was untouchable, exactly where he left it before leaving Velaris.

You could feel Rhysand and Feyre were trying to hide something from you. They told you not to worry, that Azriel would come back soon, but you didn’t believe them. You could sense they weren’t sure if Az would actually come back.

You couldn’t understand why the inner circle was acting so weird, even Cassian seemed to be more careful with his jokes when you were around. Like you could break if something wrong was said.

You two got closer over the years, especially after you started training with him during the mornings. You got used to being woken up by him, calling you lazy for still being in bed. Azriel's calm face became the first thing you saw as soon as you opened your eyes, with the shadows always prowling around him.

But now, as the Spymaster, no one would find him unless he wanted to.

During that week, which seemed to be the longest time of your life, Eris sent a lot of letters and gifts. At that point you received a hole collection of jewelry made from fire stone and an invitation to dinner with him at the Autumn Court. Still, you couldn’t feel excited to see Eris. So you ignored all the letters and left all the gifts abandoned under your bed.

The only thought in your mind my was Azriel.

Sometimes you felt like your heart was being crushed, and it hurt like someone’s pain was being added to yours.

You’re feeling miserable and didn’t understand why Azriel’s suddenly disappearance was affecting you that much. You two were only friends, that was all. Even if you felt a deeper feeling for him, you knew he would never like you that way.

When Eris started to give you attention, you saw a chance to get over Azriel. But even with all your efforts to love the male, your feeling for Az didn’t go away.

At some point, you started to have nightmares. You keep dreaming about Azriel being hurt by someone, Azriel being killed or simply never being found again, leaving you alone in this world forever.

Today you woke up scared, letting a cry of despair escape from your mouth. You still could see the image of your dream in your head, of Azriel’s lifeless body laying in a dark forest.

Panic still spread throughout your mind. The image refused to leave. You wanted to scream, you wish to go back in time and fix everything, to tell Azriel how you felt.

“(Y/n)?” The familiar voice said, making your heart beat faster.

Azriel was standing in front of your door with a worried look on his face. He walked in your direction with caution, like he was scared that you would disappear if any sudden movement was made.

“Az?” You asked, afraid that was just another dreams and you would woke up at any second just to find out he was still missing.

He sat on the edge of the bed.

“I heard you screaming” He asked with a low hoarse voice.

“I’m fine, it was just… a nightmare.”

“I understand.” Azriel looked at you, trying to find the right words to say next “I’m sorry to enter in your room like this, I just… I just thought you could be in danger.”

“It’s okay.” You wanted to get closer to him, to talk everything that was running your mind. “I was worried about you, why did you left like that? What happened at the winter solstice?”

The questions left your mouth before you could stop them.

Azriel’s shadows were dancing around him, slowly approaching your body, as if they were happy to finally see you again.

“I’m sorry for that as well” Azriel let a sigh left his mouth “I left because I’m a selfish bastard. I wish I could say I have a honorable reason for it, but I don’t. The truth is I left because I couldn’t see you near Eris anymore”

You tried to digest his words, finally starting to understand.

“Honestly, at that point I wasn’t giving a shit for Rhysand’s alliance with Eris. And I should, because he’s my friend, my brother and my High Lord.” He finally looked inside your eyes “But I can’t watch my mate with another male, especially him.”

The shock spread throughout your body.

Mate.

That’s what he said. You’re his mate.

“Azriel.” You said, breaking the distance and taking his hands with your own.

He felt a shiver go through his spine. The way you hold his scarred hands without hesitation, your eyes carried with affection. Even if they’ve caused only pain and suffering in the last few centuries for the others.

For the first time, he didn’t felt like a monster, like a villain of someone’s story. He could be the villain to a lot of people, but not to you. Azriel would never be able to hurt you.

“Let me finish first.” Azriel interrupted before you could say anything “I’m back because of you, to fight for you. I don’t want to believe it’s too late for us.”

“Why didn’t you tell me before?” You said “I’m so stupid, if I wasn’t so scared of telling you how I felt, none of that would’ve happened”

“How you felt?” He looked confused. “You have feelings for me?”

“How can the Spymaster be so oblivious of what is infront of your nose?” You said, laughing “Yes, I do have feelings for you, but I never thought you felt the same way. I was so blind that I didn’t even felt the bond.”

But it was there, filling your chest. Uniting your soul to Azriel’s. That’s why you felt so miserable in the last days, you could feel his despair echoing with yours through the bond, almost creating a sad melody.

“(Y/n)… please don’t tell me that I got into the biggest existencial crises of my life just because I was too scared to tell you about the bond. When I could have you long time ago.”

“Don’t feel bad, because I’m afraid we both did the same thing.” You said and he laugh.

Hesitant, he lift one of his hands and slightly caressed your face. His shadows touched your soft skin, moving around your arms, making you feel a tickle.

“You’re my mate, Azriel. And I’m only yours.” You finally said the words and he looked at you with a indecipherable expression. “I’ve always been yours. And you’re right, it’s not too late for us”

“(Y/n)” A groan left his mouth “Since the first time I put my eyes on you, you’ve conquered me in every possible way. I’m yours and you’re mine, and I won’t let anyone get in the middle.”

Azriel moved his hands to your neck and you instantly whimpered in anticipation. His eyes darkened when he heard it, and he finally broke the distance between you two, kissing you deeply. He quickly pushed you to his lap, trying to get you the closer he could, and put his hands into your waist.

“Time to claim what’s mine, love.” Azriel said with a lust in his eyes.

#azriel x you #azriel x reader #acotar x reader #azriel

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minicoffee00 · 7 months

Text

Fast Changes - Part 4 Azriel x Reader

Plot: You are Feyre’s younger twin and get sent into the Cauldron with your sisters coming out as high fae. What happens on this journey

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Warnings: Implied Spice

A few days had gone by and Azriel would bring Y/N food and take her out into the balcony for fresh air.

But he knew that eventually she’d have to meet Amren, she was the only one that would be able to help Y/N have any type of control over her powers.

She was helping Nesta and that seemed to be working, and they’d just figured out Elain was a Seer which had caused her to open up to the group more now that they knew why she so often spoke in riddles.

“How do you feel about seeing one other person today, someone that might be able to help you control these powers so that you don’t constantly feel what everyone else is feeling huh?” Azriel offered , hoping she’d be open to meeting Amren. He hadnt been around for two days and she'd stayed by herself in her room, watching for him on the balcony.

“Will it be painful? Also, my sister have you heard anything?” She inquires holding his hand. Azriel worked out after that first day of her tracing the lines of his body that she was very tactile with him. She didn’t want to be far from him, maybe it was the bond, maybe it was something else but he couldn’t be happier.

“Not one bit, Amren’s been working on controlling her emotions for you. So that she can help you, she’s done lots of research about your abilities” he says and pauses slightly before continuing, to catch a breath.

"And erm no, we haven't heard anything about Feyre" he mumbles.

“That’s very kind of her, to do that for me. I will meet with her. But I’d like you to stay in the room with me”

“Of course, now can I bring her in? She’s very keen” he asks his shadows whispering to him how Amren was pacing impatiently outside the door.

“Yes”

“Amren you can come in now” he shouts to her, Amren comes in, looking straight to the girl sat politely on her bed. They hadn’t really seen the girl recently, now that they worked out that Azriel could be around her, he was helping her with everything she needed.

“How does it feel, her being in here” Azriel asks sitting on the bed next to her, taking her smaller hand up in his, placing it on his lap.

“I can tell she’s … curious? But it’s not as harsh as it was the first time, it’s almost subdued” she says gazing over Amren.

“I’ve been practicing hard so that I can meet you girl. I’ve done research too, about what your powers are” Amren says placing a book down on the bed next to her open on the page she wanted her to read.

“I’m the cauldrons empath?” She asks as if Amren was pulling her leg.

“The mother appoints one, every 1000 years. Always from Prythian, but the court changes each time, it goes in order. Spring, Summer, Autumn, Winter, Day, Dawn, Night” she explains showing the sketches in the book, explaining the cycle.

“What was the last court to have one?” She asks, if it was anything other than dawn then that would mean she wasn’t meant to be here.

“We aren’t sure, there’s no record kept of them, and depending on who it was, that court might not have wanted to disclose that they had one"

"So i might not belong here in the Night Court?" she asks sadly, the first court she had actually been in was Summer, was her fate there with Tarquin.

"You'll always have a place here in the Night Court! No matter what the Cauldron intended" Azriel said rubbing the side of her arm.

"Right lets begin with training shall we?" Amren indicates a nod coming from the newly fae girl, wanting to finally face her family without the pain.

After hours with Amren, and them working out how to put her powers in a lock box within, she was able to not feel anything Amren was feeling at all, just a slight buzzing around her head. Amren didn't think she'd adapt to it this quickly but was impressed at the progress the girl was showing.

"It'll be harder around people like Nesta, Rhys and Cassian who cant hide there emotions that well. But I've told them to behave at dinner" she smiles before sauntering out the room.

"Rhys just informed me dinner is in ten minutes, Amren thinks you'll be ready to be around the others, she wants to see how well you can cope"

"With that many?" she asks slightly uncomfortable worried she wouldn't be able to hold that shield up around that many people for such a prolonged period of time.

"You'll be fine and we can leave together at any point" he says taking her hand and walking down the stairs with her.

As she walks, she starts to feel everyone in the dining room, slowly she blocks each of them out. By the time she's at the hallway and walks in, she looks strained.

"Y/N?" Nesta asks looking at her sister that she hadnt seen in a while.

"Sugar?" Feyre asks making her gasp, Feyre was back and she wasn't injured. Why had no-one told her she was back yet.

"You came back?" she says in a quiet voice, watching over her sister next to Rhys who had a firm grip on her knee, as if to hold her there so she couldn't leave him again.

"Of course i came back. This is my home. Where my family are!" she smiles.

"When... when did you get back" she asks, she didn't feel Azriel guide her into a seat until she felt herself being slowly pushed down into the seat.

"Only yesterday, i've been healing since. Azriel and Cassian found myself and Lucien in the winter court"

"You lied to me" Y/N asks turning to Azriel with a frown, she was upset with him. She'd asked about her sister today and he said he didn't know.

"Don't blame Azriel. I asked him not to tell you anything as he told me you were opening up to him a little bit and that he was asking you about Amren today" she explains. The youngest twin deemed it smart to attempt to open up her abilities to just Feyre to see if she was lying herself to protect Azriel.

However opening that door, seemed to open all the others up and an overwhelming sense of different emotions hit her. She snapped that wall back up, grunting at the feeling in her head. Y/N stood back up, trying to ground herself to something.

"I'm sorry for making him lie to you really!" she smiles pulling her sister into a hug, after brushing Rhys' hand away, a small growl coming from his mouth at the action.

"I missed you! How have you been?" she asks quietly. A small smile forming on Y/N's mouth.

"Being with Azriel has helped, he's the only quiet one" she whispers but it doesn't go unheard by the wondering ears of the rest of the group, a large belly laugh coming from Cassian's direction, making Mor and Rhys chuckle in recognition.

"Come, lets enjoy this meal together. All of us as a united family" Rhys smiles pulling at the edge of Feyre's dress directing her to sit back down. Y/N joins her and starts dishing up, seeing how Azriel was reclined and rubbing his temples she started to plate his food up for him. Mash potatoes, some braised beef, some beans and other greens.

"Az, here eat" she says tapping his outter thigh offering the food over to him. Cassian seeing the observation chokes on his drink. There was an odd change of smell in the room under Y/N's nose that she couldn't decipher.

Rhys watched the interaction curiously to see what Azriel would do, he gulps down some of the wine in the goblet he was holding.

"Can we talk outside for a second?" he asks and she nods sending confused looks around the room.

"What's wrong Az?" she queries.

"You know we are mates?" he asks and she nods, grabbing onto his shaking hands, making him sigh.

"The female accepts the bond by offering the male food, and"

"And i did that by plating up your food" she whispers.

"Yes, I don't want to eat it. Unless you knowingly put that there" he sighs, eyes more glassy than normal.

But i'd had enough, enough of not being in control of my own mind, and not being able to understand the difference between my emotions and everyone elses that flowwed through me. But this choice was mine, and for the first time since being kidnapped by Hybern my mind was clear on a decision. I wanted to accept this bond that fated myslef and Azriel together.

I grabbed his hand, dragging him back to the dining room. I sit him down, before forking up some of the food, so it was a mixture of flavours all at once, how i'd observed Azriel liked to eat his foods. I thrusted the fork towards him, offering it to him, more forcefully than the accidental first time.

Cassian gasps seeing the interaction, a small look over to Nesta, hoping to god it would be them one day.

"Are you sure?" Azriel asks making her nod.

"My head has been either so empty or so full since Hybern, but whenever I'm around you i feel human again, and that feels great, because its the most i feel at home... anywhere. I haven't accepted the consequences of being forced into the Cauldron yet but with you by my side i think that's less of a burden to bare" she explains, tears coming to his eyes. She had just told him she loved him in a million different ways, something he had yearned for.

"Okay then, feed me" he says, he opens his mouth slowly cupping a hand under as he sees the fork move forward. As he chews, every grind makes the bond stronger and by the time he has finished off the plate he looks up at her both their eyes shining.

All he wanted to do was pound her into the dining room table while he mouth nibbled on the sensitive bit of her neck that he knew would have her whining and whimpering. But he knew, he knew she wasn't ready for that yet, so he held himslef against the table, breathing in and out before placing a kiss on her head.

Claps came from around the table, apart from Nesta and Elain, who was silently asking questions to Lucien who sat next to her, knowing Nesta wouldn't be able to answer them either.

"Congrats brother" Rhys smiles across the table holding his glass up before drinking the rest of its contents.

Y/N couldn't actually stop looking at Azriel the rest of the night, enjoying the safe and content feeling she was receiving through the bond.

This had her not straining to hold up the mental barries all night, as Azriels mind being one with hers now, almost helped holding them up with her.

TAGLIST:

@cat-or-kitten @sstrohma @horneybeach1 @its-sam-allgood @starryhiraeth @xcastawayherosx

A/N: So i know there are POV changes like mad in this but thats the creative and stylistic choice to show how foggy Y'N's mind is throughout this series.

Potentially some SMUT, dare i say in the next part!

#acotar #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #acomaf #acowar #acosf #a court of mist and fury #a court of thorns and roses #shadowsinger x reader #Azriel’s mate

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onsunnyside · 1 year

Text

🍁≬ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞 (𝟏/𝟐)

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | photographer!Ari Levinson x reader

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | glimpses of fluff, angst, old flames, childhood friends-to-loves aftermath, ex-boyfriend!Ari, size difference: 6’8!Ari.

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | Even the most beautiful love stories are bound to end in tragedy, but you thought you and Ari would be an exception.

𝗪/𝗖 | 3.64K

𝗔/𝗡 | currently in my sad autumn girl era but i know it won’t last long so i wanted to share this with you all. sort of poured my heart into it and wrote most of this in a teary haze last night. Inspired by Taylor Swift’s songs: Sad Beautiful Tragic, Exile, All Too Well, The Last Time. [𝐏𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐁𝐨𝐚𝐫𝐝 | all asks]. All mistakes are my own.

˗ˏˋ𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭ˎˊ˗ ⋰˚ 𝐂.𝐄. & 𝐂𝐨. 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Don’t look, don’t look, you force your eyes on the television mounted above the table, half listening to the chatter of your friends and the hushed music playing from the speakers.

A nudge brings your attention to your redheaded friend, “How have you been? You haven’t answered my texts.”

“Sorry, I’ve been working a lot.” The music shop didn’t get very busy, but Natasha didn’t need to know that you spent the past weeks buried in turmoil, revisiting every decision you’ve ever made that brought you here. “I also applied to the dance studio as an instructor, I’m still waiting for them to get back to me.”

Her green gaze pools with worry. Of course, you’d answer a question about how you were with what you were doing. She hated to pry, but she cared for you like a sister. If you were hurting, she wanted to put a stop to it, or talk about it and try to understand. She couldn’t do that if you refused to open up.

“If you want to leave, that’s fine, I’ll walk you out.”

“I’m okay, Nat. I wouldn’t have come if I couldn’t handle seeing him again.”

The both of you know that’s a bald-faced lie. Especially because you’ve done everything to not peek in his direction.

Natasha is drawn away by one of your other close friends, and they fall into an easy conversation with laughs and bright smiles. Their voices fade into each other, a blissful hum filling the loneliness that has clung to you.

I wouldn’t have come if I couldn’t handle seeing him again.

You spoke too soon.

Ever so slightly, you glance at the bar. Over the heads of the other patrons, his gaze meets yours. Deep blue, unreadable and sharp, piercing heavily through your face.

Seeing him now, he’s different. His hair is longer, his beard is thicker, and he’s dressed in clothes you’ve never seen before—apart from his signature leather jacket that he wore for most of the year.

You wonder if the way he carries himself all the same, with quiet grace and self-assurance, too often falling victim to his insecurities.

You missed him.

You missed his stupidly loud alarm clock, his cute bedhead and how he never failed to keep you warm on winter nights. You missed his endless rants about society, space and the world, past, present and future. His mind stretched into infinity, and you never always understood what he was saying, but you listened nonetheless. Listening was the best thing someone could do.

Your eyes fall on the loose and shaggy fabric around his neck. The cream knit was your first little home project, evident with the frayed threads and stubborn coffee stains. That single scarf took you a week because of your lack of experience. You worked on it everywhere, on the train, at work and the park. Your favourite place to knit was next to him as he hunched over his computer desk and went through hundreds of photographs with his glasses on the tip of his nose.

That was the one thing he didn’t mail back.

He goes around the table, handing out everyone’s selected drinks with greetings. “Sorry, I’m late. I got stuck at the studio with this last-minute family portrait session.”

“At least it wasn’t another self-proclaimed influencer.” Curtis snorts.

“Fuck no, thank goodness for that.” He laughs, almost too gleeful. When he gets to you, he simply sets the drink on the wooden countertop and flashes a tense smile.

It either took one or ten minutes for you to sip the drink before you rushed out the back door with an excuse about fresh air.

The cool, November air welcomes you with open arms as if it knew you wouldn’t last very long. You lean on the railing, distracting yourself with the red, orange and yellow trees across the way. The music and chatter fade into whispers, and the crickets and gentle wind take their place. Down below, the water ripples against the rocks, the wooden poles dark and green from the lake, another victim to time, just like everything else.

The fall season itself was a tale of death. The days got shorter because the sun comes and goes all too quickly and the leaves turn into different shades before falling to the ground. Bidding farewell in warm colour pallets and leave the trees bare, mere skeletons of life, dormant and dull.

Then, they’re reincarnated by spring. Brought back by more sunshine and warmth, blooming hues the world has longed for.

You wondered when your spring would come, or if you’d be trapped in perpetual autumn. Be forced to feel every part of you change into red, yellow or orange and fall until there is nothing left and you're in a barren comatose.

You stare down at your dress, the very one he said was his favourite. The soft blue silk is highlighted by the dim fairy lights hung up on the fence. Memories are woven into the fabric and they’re all good because you stopped wearing this dress when things got worse. With a brush of the lace hem, you’re reminded of him.

“I knew you’d look beautiful in this.”

“You have to stop buying me things, we have bills to pay.”

He scoffs, “bills aren’t going to help my girl realize how beautiful she is.” He takes your hand, pressing his plump lips on your knuckles, “I know it, the world knows it, but she doesn’t. And that isn’t okay with me.”

The door swings open and slams into the wall, making you jump.

“Oh shit, sorry!” His voice rings out, “Didn’t mean to scare you, I thought the door was heavier.”

You quickly wipe your eyes, not caring about your makeup anymore. You tried hard to look your best tonight and embody that healed person you’ve pretended to be for the past few weeks. But he couldn’t say hi or your name. Why couldn’t he say your name?

He tucks away his cigarettes, “You stay, I’ll go out front. You probably want to be alone.”

“No, it’s okay. I’m going to call a cab.”

“You’re leaving?”

“Natasha knows I have an early morning.” You keep it simple and duck away from his gaze, hugging your purse close as some sort of lifesaver that was keeping you from floating into the sky. Truthfully, you wouldn’t mind that abrupt escape after hearing his next words.

“Wait—I mean, I’ll wait with you. It’s too late for you to be outside by yourself.”

Your stride doesn’t slow, you hope he’ll get the hint and just go back inside, but with his mile-long legs, he easily catches up to you. His boots land heavily on the boardwalk and the buckles of his leather jacket chime, filling the strained silence.

“So, did you see that new cinema downtown?”

“Please don’t.”

He raises his arms in defence, a smile audible in his voice, “Sorry, I didn’t realize you hated movies.”

“Ari.” Your shoulders slump and the sorrow gets heavier. You swear the world could cave under your feet. “Don’t try to—” You cut yourself off, knowing if you didn’t get away now, you’d regret it, “I want to be alone right now.”

The pine trees sway in the breeze, surrounding you with their natural scent.

He takes one hesitant step back, nodding slowly. “Right, I’m probably the last person you want to see.”

He couldn’t be more wrong and that only worsened the pain. How could he think that when he was the only person you wanted to see every day for over a decade?

It stretches far back to when you were children and living down the street from each other.

How could he think that when you used to wait out on the porch for him to pass by so you could walk to school together? How could he think that when you’ve spent hundreds of hours writing about his face in your diaries, about how his smile could light up a stadium and how his eyes were endless pools of stories and wishes?

How could he?

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” Ari’s features grow concerned as the hot tears stream down your cheeks. “It’s okay—” He reaches for you, gently grasping your hand.

“No, it’s not.” You try to shrug him off, not bothering to wipe your face. He knew you were crying out here anyway. He knew you more than he knew himself, so it wouldn’t surprise you if he also knew what you were thinking right now—where did he find the audacity to say it’s okay? “I’m sad—I’m still so sad. And you aren’t.”

Ari stiffens and releases your hand as if he’d been burned. His cerulean eyes are shaded by the night, and darkness bleeds onto his solemn face, “You think I’m not sad?”

You tearily blink, waving towards the bar by the lake. “You seemed pretty happy in there—and you acted like you didn’t even know me.”

Sure, you probably would’ve cried if he spoke to you, but at least he would have acknowledged you. You’d take that glimmer of attention over his silence any day.

“I was—I am heartbroken.” He confesses, his long hair falling over his forehead as he stares down at you, “I didn’t know if you wanted me to talk to you—”

“Yet you followed me out here anyway.”

Even in the moonlight, you can see his cheeks turn cherry red.

“Okay, but I was checking on you. I didn’t mean for this to happen and to make you cry.” He protests, “Am I not allowed to worry about you?”

You close your eyes and shake your head, turning on your heel to continue down the boardwalk. The main street mocks you in the distance, beckoning you with yellow streetlights and the chance to escape, but his fingers wrap around your wrist, holding tightly.

“Wait, please. I’m sorry.”

His touch is warm and familiar, the other end of the double-edged sword. On one end is the busy street, the carefree people living their lives on this fall evening, the cars driving by, and your bittersweet freedom—but also your lonely apartment with your cold, empty bed. The other end, the one entwining with your trembling fingers, is suffocatingly soft and inviting. Enticing you to stay and listen, but at what cost? Would it only bring more suffering draped in so-called closure or more confusion that your heart couldn’t take?

“Muse—”

“Don’t.”

He inhales deeply and you feel his breath on the back of your head. “I’m devastated, I’m alone, I’m stuck in this disordered loop that I don’t know how to get out of.” His grip constricts, once then twice but you force yourself to stay as unresponsive as a corpse. “You were my first for everything, I-I wanted you to be my last.”

You knew that and you wanted the same thing. You’ve discussed it countless nights in your shared bed, whispering about the possibilities that the great big world offered, from tamed to outlandish. Picking up a strange hobby, or travelling the globe, he even mentioned moving to a new country altogether, “think about it. A fresh start, just the two of us and unlimited options.”

“I wouldn’t say unlimited, unfamiliar sounds more accurate.”

“Pick a place, any place and I’ll make it happen.”

“What if I don’t tell you and just take off alone? Soak up all that freshness by myself.”

“Oh, then I’ll find you. I’ll follow you anywhere.”

Experiencing things for the first time together was a big part of your relationship. You were both painstakingly sentimental, which only made it harder to pack your things. Everything reminded you of what was or what could’ve been, you eventually decided to keep what you needed and throw out what carried tender nostalgia.

You never followed through with that, but you do avoid the many boxes stacked in your closet. Full of pictures, gifts, and anything that reminded you of him. That was where you found this dress.

From the seedlings of memorable firsts, it was inevitable that you two gave each other your first heartbreaks too.

The tears come back with vengeance, spilling down your heated cheeks, “You ended things.”

“You walked out!” He rushes to apologize, swerving in front of you before you could take another step. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Just please, listen to me.”

Why? He never listened to you in the end.

Whenever you brought up concerns about weird tension or the growing emptiness, he never listened. He was all about work and brushed off dates for last-minute gigs. You knew he wanted a greater future for the two of you, something better than your crowded apartment with your roommates (now the close friends in the bar), and something brighter than the stars combined.

You tried to understand and a part of you did, but the other part couldn’t take it anymore. The part that missed your boyfriend, missed your mindless conversations and quiet nights at home, and when he picked up that camera and photographed you like a piece of art.

That part of you won. You laid down your weapons and went defenceless into his line of fire, with only your heart in your hands and a rehearsed speech in your head.

You never made it all the way through because you two started arguing, right in front of your friends, spitting accusations fueled by rage and doubt, making each other into the bigger villain when it was always clear who was the culprit.

Even now, although you know it’s him, you wonder if you were an accomplice.

Childhood sweethearts turned college lovers, plenty of people have made it all the way—to whatever was their ideal. Many people have also given up, gotten tired, or fallen out of love.

You thought you and Ari were stronger than that, and you wouldn’t let the pressures of life, work, and school weigh onto your relationship. But in the end, those voices were always right, and your shared dreams were crushed at the hands of breakdowns, lost time, and agonizing lulls.

It was ironic how you’re haunted by voices while Ari rarely used his.

Ari wasn’t loud or interruptive. He was quiet and timid, and as he grew up, he slowly came out of his shell and matured into the tall, confident, and gentle giant in front of you.

When you were kids, he wrote adorably misspelled sentences on sticky notes to drop into your lunchbox, and then in high school, he wrote love letters to slip into your locker. The sweetest part was that he never signed them, yet you always suspected it was him. He pretended to be curious about your newest note from your secret admirer and asked about the contents, all the itty bitty details of the proclamation in black pen.

He was after your heart, and he surely got it.

He showed his love through touch, gestures and gifts, through photographs and love letters that were kept in a special box.

It was beautiful in a way that only broken poets, starved artists and silenced lovers could understand. And you and Ari were all three. The tragedy was in colours no one else could see, the script in an undiscovered language, but to you and all the rest of the heartbroken, it was so vivid and clear. You dipped your fingers into that magic shade and poured your heart onto the white walls of the lonely tower, mourning your knight who would never return.

You made the tragedy your home, wallowed in it, and pitied yourself over every missed opportunity—the fleeted moments where things could have changed, leading you somewhere different from where you were. But you tried to get better, to get clean of him and those noisy, unhelpful thoughts. You wanted to save yourself, to gather the guts to leave that tower and climb down to the lush grass and sparkling rivers below.

In delusions, you are happy and satisfied, sober from the destruction. But right now, that false comfort was cracking beneath your feet. You wished to board up the windows and hide away from the world, from him.

“Will you please listen to me?” He pleads, his voice thick, “just listen, you don’t have to say anything or even stay afterward.”

“Why?” You turn to him, gritting your teeth to keep from sobbing. “Why should I listen to you when you never listened to me? When I told you that were growing apart, you just pushed me further away. Does—” Your voice cracks, “Does that not seem unfair to you?” Did you not deserve the same mercy he was begging for?

It was too late if he wanted to listen this time. It was gone, flatlined, buried under the dirt with overgrown weeds and ivy climbing on the gravestone. Your names were etched into the stone, just another miserable end in the cemetery of the heartbroken, the battered and bruised, the forgotten and silenced.

You’ve been a ghost ever since he mailed back the things you thought he wanted. Transparent and floating through the graveyard, weeping in wonder, and feebly searching for that scarf—the one thing he kept.

“I won’t ask again. This is the last time, Ari. You won’t get another chance.”

He opens and closes his mouth multiple times, rethinking every thought racing in his head, but then he finally settles on shutting his mouth. Those plump lips pressed firmly together, a barrier for everything he should say—and everything you had the right to hear.

Defeated, you release his hand. You didn’t realize you were holding him too, it was all just automatic at this point, unlike this moment which is only a rerun of a film you’ve already seen.

Your gaze traces his face one last time, locking everything to memory from the curve of his dark eyebrows, the shade of his blue eyes, the point of his nose, the blush pink of his lips, and every freckle like they were constellations.

In a flash, you’re staring at him from across the classroom, watching him slowly write on a yellow sticky note, his tongue poking from between his teeth in concentration.

Another flash, and you’re watching him bolt down the hallway, passing lockers and other students with his azure eyes set on you. In his hand is an old polaroid camera and he’s wearing the widest grin, “Let’s go to the park.” He almost crashes into you but grasps your shoulder in excitement, illuminating the dull hallway with his glow.

You laugh, “I have class… and so do you.”

“Yeah, but the weather is so nice today.” He pouts, already tugging you towards one of the exits. “Plus, you look really pretty. Wouldn’t you rather be my model, than sit in some dusty old classroom?”

He kissed you that day, under the biggest willow tree in the park with his hand on your cheek. He blushed a nervous red and asked so sweetly, “Can I—May I please…” He trailed off, profusely blinking at your parted lips, “Will you let me b-be your first kiss? And will you be mine?”

And finally, you’re back in the present. His looming shadow as he towers over your lifeless frame, executed by the quiet and unspoken words. You’d take anything at this point, from shuddering pleas to choked apologies—you’d grovel for a single syllable.

“That’s it.” You scoff in disbelief, “all you can do is look at me?”

Again, silence. His eyes pool with tears, seconds away from streaming down his cheeks and matching your wet trails and ruined makeup. He doesn’t speak, but he’s breaking, cracking at the surface like delicate porcelain holding back a flood.

“You deserve better than me.”

No, he doesn’t get to decide that. He doesn’t get to use that stale statement to dig his own grave, right alongside yours before the final self-deprecating eulogy. It didn’t matter if he thought you deserved better than him, all that should matter was that you wanted him, that you still wanted him even after all of this.

“So, you’re just gonna let me go? After all we’ve been through?” After you’ve given him everything, and showed him every part of you and let him in.

The first tear falls, dripping down his beard and onto the worn knit. Then another, and another until they’re streaming down his cheeks and soaked up by the scarf. “You’re already gone.”

There it is, the last nail in the coffin.

Ari has never been aggressive or forceful, but you wished he’d be brave. You wished he’d fight for you, step into the battlefield with an unrelenting resolve to make things right—to get you back. But he doesn’t, he just looks down at you, chewing on his lip with clenched fists.

He’s surrendered to the war, abandoning you in the tower of tragedy, but joining you in the cemetery of the heartbroken. He’s signing his name on the death certificate and damning you and your wistful dreams, erasing every ‘what if’ that has plagued the both of you since you were children.

“You couldn’t be more wrong.”

You swallow the lump in your throat and fight the weakness in your knees, but you refuse to do this to yourself again, to give him a chance he won’t take. You turn around and continue down the dock, your arms wrapped tightly around yourself in a form of self-soothing.

Autumn was a story of demise, but it had to be better than the earsplitting silence. You’d take the cruel cold and neverending abyss over the lack of effort. Right now, there was no spring in sight, no rebirth to raise you from the dead but you’d find your own life someday and somehow without him. You had to save yourself, be your own hero and come out victorious—alone, but triumphant.

𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: i’ve already started a part two for those of us who want a happy ending, so if you’re an angsty person, feel free to just leave it at this part. i’ll let you all know when i have a date. this is also my second time writing angst on here, and i had a few good cry sessions. i know this isn't the usual filth but i hope you all enjoyed this nonetheless.

𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞! i love you all very much. pls take this kith 😚🫶

As always, I hope you all enjoyed this and I’d love to hear your thoughts/feedback !! [my inbox] <3 — ☼ 𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐊𝐨-𝐟𝐢 ☼

I don’t do taglists anymore. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

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sluttywoozi · 2 years

Text

Warmth | xmh x reader

Summary: It's late and freezing when Minghao gets home from work. All he wants to do is crawl into bed, and he's eternally grateful the person he loves most in the world is already there - you.

Rating: M (18+) | Word Count: ~1.5k

Warnings: eating, marriage mention, fingering, cockwarming, not really sex don't yell at me pls

Reader Notes: no gendered pronouns or petnames (darling, my love, honey used), has vagina and breasts

It’s late and freezing when Minghao gets home.

He trudges up the driveway, pulling his coat tighter to his body and crossing his arms. He’s forced to uncross them to unlock the door, and shivers the second he stops hugging himself, his hands shaking slightly as he turns the key in the lock. It’s the time of year where autumn is giving way to winter, and the temperature has dropped but not enough to warrant the heater. He’s starting to feel differently now that he’s inside and it’s just as cold.

The house is dark, quiet, and he’d almost think it was empty if not for the rustling he can hear from the bedroom, sheets and comforters being tugged up, pillows being fluffed, socked feet rubbing against each other as you try to warm up.

Minghao can’t wait to crawl in next to you.

He’s exhausted, work was just… awful.

Everyone around him decided to be completely incompetent today, and he spent his ten hours running around doing other people’s jobs, only half of which he’s qualified for.

But he’s home now, and as he walks through the hallway, he can feel the weight melting from his shoulders, dripping from his fingertips onto the hardwood.

He shakes the day and his coat off, storing it in the hall closet and padding on light feet into the bedroom.

You’re curled up under the duvet, your tired eyes peeking out at him and a hand reaching out from within the blankets. He stumbles over, taking your hand in his cold one and leaning in to press a kiss to your palm then hold it against his face.

“I’m gonna go wash up, love. Did you eat?” Minghao asks, weariness evident in his voice.

“I had soup, there’s still some left in the fridge if you’re hungry,” you sound exhausted too, your voice small and weak, a bit thready with the chill in the room.

“Thank you,” he breathes, dropping a kiss on your forehead and moving to the closet. He clumsily undresses, pulls on a pajama set and his warmest robe, and shuffles to the kitchen in his slippers to heat up the soup you’d made.

It's delicious, as all your soup is, and warms him from the inside out enough to put off turning on the heater one more day. He absentmindedly taps the counter as he eats, going over things he has to do tomorrow in his head, groaning when he remembers it’s his turn to do the grocery run this week.

Maybe he could convince you to go with him, make a date of it. But you get so tired when it’s cold, you always want to hibernate when you’re done with work, so you’d probably say no. That’s even more reason to try to get you to go, though, right?

Right, Minghao nods resolutely, promising himself he’ll at least try to get you out of the house after work tomorrow.

He can’t blame you for climbing under the blankets as soon as you strip from your day clothes, not when it’s this cold, but he knows that too much time spent in bed isn’t good for your mental well-being.

Starting the grocery list in his head, Minghao washes his bowl and the tupperware you’d left the soup in, cringing at the cold water flowing from the faucet and drying his hands quickly. This part of the house is warmer and he dreads returning to the arctic of the bedroom, but you’re there so it’ll at least be worth it.

He shuts off the kitchen lights and ambles down the hall, wrapping his robe up tight around his torso and deciding to find some thicker socks before going to bed. He hasn’t been able to find the wool ones you’d knitted him lately, and he mourns the loss but knows you likely have them, as he’d worn a hole in the toe of the left sock last week. He’ll have to make do with a store bought pair, and smiles at you in the dark while rifling through his side of the sock drawer. He hops on one foot then the other, pulling the socks on, whipping the robe off, and immediately scurrying over to the bed, desperate for your warmth.

You grin sleepily at him, your eyelids heavy, and lift the blankets when he gets to his side, dropping them down after he climbs in next to you, cocooning him in bliss.

You’re warm, so warm, and he almost moans when you scoot over closer to him, until the whole length of your pajama clad body is pressed against his.

Minghao always loves being close to you, but it’s even better at this time of year. You’re just so soft and sweet and toasty, and when he wraps his arm around you and presses a hand to your tummy to pull you flush against him, he sighs. He doesn’t run hot or cold, but you do, and you’re like his own personal space heater, keeping him warm on the coldest of nights.

You wiggle a bit, readjusting and tugging his hand up between your breasts, and he can feel his cock stir at the movement of your hips against his. He’s not really in the mood for sex, too chilly, too tired, but he can’t control his dick any more than he can control the weather.

But he can turn the heater on, can’t he?

“My love, do you think- I mean-,” Minghao starts but doesn’t finish, unsure of how to ask or if he even should.

“You wanna put your cock in me, don’t you?” you mumble through your fatigue, and he can’t quite tell how you feel.

You’ve had a long day too, and the last thing Minghao wants to do is make it more taxing for you, but he really wants to be close to you, and he couldn’t get any closer than his dick in your pussy unless he crawled into your skin too.

“I’m sleepy but I’ve been wet since you got home, you should be good to go,” you breathe, clutching his hand tighter when he hiccups against you.

“What do you mean you’ve been wet since I got home?” Minghao asks slowly, bewildered and suddenly hard as a rock.

“You look really good in your suit and your nose and cheeks were all red from the cold and you looked so done but your done face is hot too,” you whine, embarrassed even though he knows you can feel him poking your ass.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Minghao inquires, tugging your pajama pants down enough to slide his fingers between your legs and clenching his jaw at the slickness he finds.

“Because I was tired and I knew you were,” you moan, “you got home so late I figured work sucked.”

He glides his fingers through your folds, opening you up slowly, rubbing over your clit, dipping into your entrance, breathing in the sigh you let out.

“Work did suck, but you make everything better,” he whispers into your hair as he sinks two fingers inside you.

You clench around them immediately, wiggling your hips to work them deeper and holding his hand tighter in yours.

“You’re so warm, darling,” Minghao groans weakly, already anticipating feeling your heat around his cock as he works in a third finger, spreading them a bit to make space for him inside you.

“Hao,” you whine, grinding into his hand, pressing your back closer to his chest, “I want you, please.”

“Okay, honey, okay,” he soothes as he withdraws his fingers, pulling his dick out of his pants and dragging his wet hand down the length of it before lining up and starting to slide home.

He can feel your ribs expanding against him as he pushes in slowly, stretching you open on his cock, and he nearly reconsiders the sex part of this before he bottoms out with a gasp.

Fuck, you’re searing hot around him, your soft, wet walls hugging him so tight, and Minghao wonders what he’d have to do to live like this forever.

Marry you, probably, which works because he was planning on doing that anyway.

He’d marry you tomorrow if he could, but you both want more than a civil ceremony, and he doesn’t think he could get the day off work anyway.

This is more than enough for now, his hips snug to yours, his cock deep inside you, and your soft breaths syncing with his.

“That’s nice,” you exhale, “you make me feel so full.”

Minghao’s heart stutters, and he moves your combined grasp to rest over yours, feeling it beat on the side of his hand.

He’s not sure which feeling he loves more - you, alive and warm against him, or you, alive and warm around him.

He’s grateful he doesn’t have to choose, he thinks, as he breathes in the scent of your shampoo, feels your body slotted against his like a comfy puzzle piece. He murmurs a love you into your hair, and feels more than hears you say it back, as you both fall asleep.

AN: just a cute lil fluff piece for hao finally! fully and shamelessly inspired by this reddit post i saw on twitter this morning

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xreaderbooks · 1 year

Text

All I breathe (3)

Pair: Azriel x Vanserra Reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: Language and violence

Summary: Y/n and the shadowsinger travel across the Winter Court and finally arrives at the Autumn Court.

A/N: The monster is a mixture of a yeti and that one snow monster from the first frozen movie. Also, one line, in particular, was taken from a scene in twilight. Send me a message or comment if you'd like to be tagged.

Available on Wattpad and AO3

Masterlist - Series Masterlist - Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

After a quick breakfast with Nuan, the High Lord still not present, you said your goodbyes. Azriel was around, hidden in the shadows. You didn’t comprehend why he didn’t come out at all during breakfast and how he thought he was being discreet, you felt his shadows creeping behind your neck. When he finally revealed himself to say his thanks and goodbyes properly, he had given you a death stare and a nod to get going.

Hours felt like days that felt like months that felt like years-

Azriel had not failed to make this time utterly unbearable. Once you both had winnowed separately (still not willing to touch each other), you had met at a specific location at a specific time to avoid certain creatures that were sure to be lurking about.

You had proved to be more of a hindrance than help from the first point where you had agreed to meet, you didn’t know what to blame it on. Whether it was that you didn’t recognize what area you were in or if you had gotten disorientated but you had gotten yourself trapped.

“Honestly, and you called yourself a spy.” Azriel sneered coming out of nowhere, one slice of truth-teller and he released you from the entanglement of the net you accidentally winnowed in.

“My skills pertained to people and getting information out of them without having any blood on my hands- a more social approach.” Not entirely true but he didn’t need to know that. You dusted yourself off from the fall to the ground.

“So you were a whore.” The audacity of this man, so the dinner last night had meant nothing in improving the status of your acquaintance. Good to know, you thought to yourself.

“Maybe you should be the one who doesn't speak of what you don’t know, Shadowsinger.” You repeated the words he spoke to you the other morning, alerting him of the nerve he struck.

“Very creative, Firewielder” He sheathed his dagger. “It’s a wonder you got anywhere with people considering everything that comes out of your mouth is absolute-”

He paused, his eyes wild in search of something you couldn’t see. You impatiently urged him to continue, “Well? Let’s hear it then, everything that comes out of my mouth is wh-” Your shouts were muffled by his gloved hand. He had shoved you against a tree, his shadows appeared to be warning him of something.

You realized the closeness of the situation and didn’t like it one bit. While he was distracted by whatever intruder was nearby, you bit him. He didn’t so much as let out a noise when he released you from his hold and pushed you to the snowy ground. You pictured stabbing him in the neck repeatedly, it managed to calm you down.

“Fucking asshole,” You insulted him in a hushed tone. “What the hell was that?”

“There are scouts spread around the border,” His shadows stretched wide in search. “No doubt they heard you struggling.”

One curious shadow reached toward you as if wanting to help you up. You fought the urge to run your fingers through them as you rose from your spot. The amount of power you had to have to have dark wispy figures whisper all kinds of information, a constant watch. It was fascinating. Azriel didn’t like you but it seemed like his shadows did. He reigned it in, sensing one of them go astray.

“I’m ready to go when you are,” You squared your shoulders. He shook his head, “No.”

You furrowed your brows, “No?”

He grabbed a hold of your bicep and suddenly you were in a cave, hidden in the darkness, Azriel’s shadows shielding you from the light as you witnessed Winter Court soldiers attempting to fight off a giant monster made of snow. They were losing.

“We have to help them,” You whispered. A soldier screamed as he got thrown to the mountains above you.

“Not our problem.”

It was like the monster had heard you, it let out a deep roar that shook your bones. It ran on its two legs in your direction. It picked off each soldier one by one until they were all gone.

“Shit,” Your flight or fight skills urged you to run deeper into the cave, maybe the height of the monster and its thickness wouldn’t allow it to pass. Swiftly, Azriel tackled you and rolled you both out of the cave, successfully dodging the large snowy arm that reached into where you were just standing. You exhaled and looked up at Azriel whose body was shielding you from the attack.

His eyes met yours in silent question, are you alright? you gave a slight nod.

The monster caught sight of your new position and roared in anger. Azriel pushed himself off of you and unsheathed his dagger once again, immediately in a fighting stance. You summoned your flames, you felt them though they were not in full power, it would have to be enough for this fight. One hand had held a ball of fire, you now regretted not bringing along your bow and arrows, this was supposed to be a diplomatic mission.

“Y/n!” Azriel shouted to you in warning, and a spare dagger flew in your direction. Your reflexes caught it faster than your mind did. The hilt landed in your hand, now you were prepared. The shadowsinger flew into the air and swiped at the snow monster, once-twice, he sunk his blade into the monster and managed to drag truth-teller down its back. Nothing.

“It’s impenetrable,” Azriel growled as he attempted to shrink his dagger deeper and lower. Your mind whirled in a calculation, and it suddenly clicked, a tale you read once about the monsters that lived deep into the mountains of the Winter Court.

The name of the monster would not come to mind but what you did know was the skin was covered by deep layers of snow and ice. Finally, you thought, this would be a way to prove how useful you could be. With your powers, you could melt away its defenses to strike skin and blood.

You outstretched both your hands, willing all the heat to come to them, once you felt like your hands were overflowing with the desire to explode within you- you let out a fiery blast.

“Are you insane?” You heard Azriel’s furious tone as he flew beside you. He had almost become a victim to your flame, you trusted he would move out of the way in time.

“I’ll keep aiming my fire at him and when I tell you, you go in for the kill.”

Azriel’s face gave away the lack of faith, but you were going to die trying to run away from it.“What makes you think that it’ll work?”

“You’re just gonna have to trust me,” You tilted your head side to side, cracking your neck. The creature lunged for you. You tucked in your neck and rolled to the left behind a large tree, you took a deep breath in. You sent a silent prayer to the mother that you were right.

Azriel was in the sky, distracting the monster, probing and stabbing at it. He maneuvered with ease around it, like an annoying mosquito, you thought. You smirked and snapped into action. You aimed at the same spot where Azriel had dragged his knife earlier. You held out both of your hands, grounding your feet into the snow. The heat in your hands exalted steam against the frozen air. With the right timing, you released your power onto the spine of the monster, your fire melted the snow right off, the first layer gone.

You pushed, your teeth grinding as you were about to reach your limit trying to melt off the second layer of ice. You could see the last layer of thick dark grey skin. The monster wailed in pain. “Now!”

Azriel followed your order though you knew he was still mentally fuming about how you fired at him. He held truth-teller high with both hands, then descended with high speed down directly at the spot you cleared.

~~~

You and Azriel agreed to winnow a little further into the winter court before continuing your trek to Autumn. He had not spoken a word to you after you had instructed him to strike at the appropriate time, the monster had bled and died. You and Azriel winnowed a couple of miles deeper into the woods, not wanting to be associated with the murder of the soldiers.

“Show a little gratitude- I just saved our asses,” You were panting from the strength it took to burn the creature.

“I’m supposed to thank you for doing your job?” Azriel asked distastefully. “Get over yourself.”

You exhale deeply, a rumble in your chest arises and you barely notice how your body is shaking from the burnout. The fire that normally sat in your veins couldn’t keep you warm anymore and the small cloth (the cloak that was thick enough for any other court) draped over your shoulders isn’t enough to protect you from the cold.

Azriel sighs and spreads his wing out nodding for you to come close. His insinuation made you roll your eyes and walk a little bit faster. You clutched your cloak closer to yourself, shivering and teeth chattering. You couldn’t care less if it made you seem weaker in Azriel’s eyes. He would find some way to judge and talk you down either way.

You spent a full 20 minutes before you were panting, your warm breath coming out in puffs from the winter air. You found yourself shifting closer to him instinctively. Soon enough you were by his arm, he wrapped his wing around you in silence. You sighed and looked up to the sky, thanking whoever, for some semblance of warmth.

Azriel kept you tucked into his side all the way to when you recognized how close you were, no comment was made of your inability to withstand the cold.

Eventually, he had spoken, “We’re going to need to discuss what will happen going in.” He said.

“We travel by foot and going in I will bend the light to hide you,” Your teeth chattered a little less than earlier but still audible while you speak. You stepped away from the comfort of his warmth, commanding yourself to walk the rest of the way on your own.

“Will you be able to?” You took his words as a hit on your inability to perform after everything.

“Bast-”

“I only mean that you are exhausted,” He interrupts.

“Didn’t know you cared, Shadowsinger.” You shivered, feeling the chills roll off your back, the weather getting warmer with every step.

“We cannot have this mission go wrong because you cannot pull off simple fae magic.”

Simple fae magic he says, bending light to your will was fairly simple but what did he know of it? “Rest assured it will be done,” You murmured. You didn’t have the energy to argue with this stubborn male.

Once you reached the border you gave him the cloak from your shoulders in hopes that it will shield his scent. You knew of all the quickest paths and entrances to the palace, soon you were there at the front steps with your magic engulfing the spymaster.

~~~

“Dear Y/n,” Beron sat upon his throne looking down at you as you bowed low in his favor.

“My Lord.” You prayed to the mother he couldn’t sense Azriel behind the pillars in the darkness, you hoped with the way you were close to him throughout most of the journey nearing your home court and the added security of your cloak that your father wouldn’t be able to scent him out.

“Now my dear, we will not start off your visit with lies.” He tutted.

“How long has it been dear sister?” One of your brothers purred out. Your lips quirked, wanting to scowl but you remembered your place. Attitude would not be taken lightly, especially from you.

“Not long enough,” You mumble under your breath.

Your other brother equally as distasteful piped up beside the one who had spoken previously, “I’m not sure she belongs to any High Lord, hopping around from court to court like a common wh-”

“Enough,” Eris, your eldest brother’s voice boomed throughout the throne room. He did not meet your eye as he said: “She is not worth the extra breath it takes to insult her, brothers.”

“Well said,” Beron ended all conversation. “You may retire to your room, servants have taken care of everything you need, we have much to discuss tomorrow.”

You took the short greeting as a mercy. Eris coming to your defense (though it didn’t seem like it) was a gift and you hoped your father and your other two brothers wouldn’t seek to question him about it. Your relationship with your eldest brother was an odd one. Though he was a bastard like the rest of them, he had a line that he didn’t cross which made you more fond of him than the others. It was almost as if he cared, in his own messed-up way.

Either way, you kept your distance from all of them when you could. You kept note of his ‘kindness’ and moved on, if you dwelled on specifics it would be easier for you to get hurt.

Azriel was standing with his back to you, your wardrobes were open, along with your cabinets and drawers. His shadows around the room, looking for gods knows what. You let the door slam behind you, “What in the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

He ignores you and continues his search.

“May I ask what the hell is wrong with you?” You stand with your hands on your hips, demanding an answer.

He gave you an inquisitive stare, you try to shake the annoyance off of you. You couldn’t understand this male, one second it was dinner and what you dare call a pleasant conversation, the next he rummaged through your drawers looking for gods knows what- “Your mood swings are giving me whiplash you know.”

Azriel turns to face you, “We are not friends, Y/n.”

You were taken aback, you knew that. You knew it probably more than your actions gave off but this was you trying. Trying to be better, the emissary in you always trying to build relations with people. You knew better than to try with him but you did anyways, for the sake of your sanity. You would no longer try anymore.

“Right, silly me for thinking you were a professional and could at least act civil.” You begin to close your drawers in your path walking up to him.

“This is me being civil,” He growled. “Any second I am near you and not ripping you apart, is me being civil.”

“I thought we were past this,” You let out a breath. You already knew what this was going to lead to. “You hate me, I hate you. Can we just skip to the part where one of us stabs the other and we can find some sort of way to breathe in the same space?”

Azriel rolls his eyes and runs a hand stressfully through his hair, “You are unbearable.”

“And what do you think you are?”

“Not a useless pathetic excuse of a spy.” You saw red. You wanted to kill him, everything that you had been through, all you had made up for and he had the audacity to insult you. You didn’t owe him shit.

Before your mind could stop you, your hand flys to meet his face. He snatched your wrist and backed you up against the wall closest to the door.

“I despise you,” You snarl. Your breath mingled with his, that was how close he was. You were chest to chest, his forehead pressed against yours, and his hazel eyes met your wild ones. The energy was feral, your eyes flickered from his eyes to his mouth which was set in a threatening scowl, matching yours.

“The feeling is mutual Firewielder.”

He releases his hold on you, backing away from you. You rub at your wrist, you didn’t realize how much he did not hold back his strength. You let out a humorless laugh, “You are a petty son of a bitch.”

“Your mouth is foul,” He retorted.

“I’m sorry, are my words too harsh for your delicate ears?” With arms crossed, you watched as he paced your room.

“Hardly,” He shakes his head violently. “I will have you know that I am loyal to my High Lady and I will not stand idle as you live your life not paying for how worthless you were in her capture.”

Azriel knew nothing of your experience with Feyre while she was in the Spring Court. You had done what you could to help her, and though your efforts were fruitless in the grand scheme of things, you had done what little you could. Kept her company, kept Tamlin's wrath from getting to her completely, and in the end, you had chosen a side. Her side.

He continued with a shake of his breath, “I know you are not your brother Y/n. But it is not enough for me not to hate you. Not to mention the power you wield the most retracts every fiber in my being that will allow me to be near you.”

There it was; the true unabridged reason why he was a cruel, unfeeling monster toward you.

“Then let us be done with this so that we may finally be rid of each other.”

You let the weight of your body be heard in your footsteps as you make your way to the bathroom, slamming it shut, sliding down the door, and pressing your hand to cover your mouth. You would not let him hear your sobs, you would not give him the satisfaction.

~~~

Next Chapter

Taglist: @kuraikei - @americancowgirl19 - @feyres-fireheart - @brekkershadowsinger - @marina468 - @highladyofhogawarts - @parker-natasha

(if your name is crossed out that means tumblr won't allow me to tag you)

#azriel x reader #azriel acotar x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #azriel acotar #acotar imagines #acotar x reader #lucien vanserra x sister reader #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra x sister reader #autumn court #lady autumn x helion #enemies to lovers #enemies to found family #azrielxreaderbooks #acotar fanfiction #azris #shadow singer x reader #azriel spymaster

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vagabond-umlaut · 11 months

Text

tick tock tick!

one's a fool, the other's a fool.

once a fool, always a fool.

you never imagined being thrown over the known limits of time and space, then back again, is what will make you grasp these two simple little facts — you don't appear to be very ruffled, though.

▸ gojo satoru x fem!reader; 2.8k wc; time travel; light-hearted banter and fluff; sassy-yet-concerned-bestie!student-shoko; living-in-denial!student-reader; pining-in-the-background!student-satoru; the grown-up reader's enjoying her time in the past but she really wants to return to her time; suggestive themes in the very end [it's implied & between grown-up reader and grown-up satoru back in the present]

▸ belongs to series we're the summer to our winter rain but you can read this as a stand-alone if you wanna!

▸ the element of time travel's been borrowed from the amazing oneshot 'time travel' by @seeingivy. tysm rc!!!! i love your works!!!! ❤️❤️

▸ the gif, divider and characters used ain't mine. please don't plagiarize, translate or repost this. enjoy reading! ❤️

idiocy – same as common cold; worse than common cold – is contagious.

weird take, isn’t it, for a person such as you on a day such as today?

gray skies. strong winds. light drizzles.

perfect day, really – a much desired reprieve from the sweltering tokyo summers, you muse – one you would have been content in whiling away wrapped in your blanket with a novel and a savoury snack. or perhaps, you would have gone on a drive through the damp streets of the city. or, better yet, you would have taken a nice long nap in the comfort of your home–

–the keywords in each being ‘would have’.

’cause you do not do either of these – rather, you cannot.

in a peach classroom you know was painted yellow last autumn, before a phone you recollect being broken in a mission last decade, looking at a face with a hairstyle you haven’t seen the likes of since five years ago – any and every plan you might’ve had go straight out your mind into the courtyard outside.

cigarette dangling from fingers, shoko blinks back at you. you offer a tentative smile.

“hey, shoko! long time, no see, eh?”

the girl lets out a long exhale of smoke and asks, “is this real or am i finally hallucinating from sleep deprivation?”

“the former, i’m afraid,” you say softly, then frown. “wait a sec–”

“won’t wait,” cutting you off, she huffs a faint chuckle. you give an unimpressed look at her nonchalant attitude, only to see it bounce right off her. not that you’re very surprised, you suppose. “i’ve had enough mothering from the present-you; any more treating me as a kid and i swear i’m going berserk.”

your lips dip into a faux-pout.

“aw, that would be a pity. the only healer we have, lost to the darkness. the society would be in shambles.”

that earns another chuckle from shoko and she reclines in her seat, eyes watching your features closely. unnerving, yes; yet you let her. it isn’t every day one meets the adult version of their kouhai, after all. [that and the fact you’ve always been rather fond of this friend of yours – both in your teens and twenties – something you reckon is too known to be voiced always.]

one whole minute elapses before the silent examination ends. you heave an inward sigh of relief, which grows into fatigue at the next question. a mere monosyllable but enough to make you want to hit your head against the window.

“how?”

you wonder what answer must you give to your former senpai.

should you say it was a mishap on a mission which led you here?

nah, too unlikely to occur for someone as warily careful as you.

from an encounter with a cursed item you knew nothing of?

the truth, of course, but with a pinch of salt here and a pinch of pepper there.

you settle on serving shoko the blandest form of the truth ever.

placing a dilapidated pocket sundial on the desk, you reply, “i came across this in the storeroom today while deep cleaning the house. now, i knew; this was soaked in cursed energy; besides, it looked too simple to be a weak cursed object. but–”

“your curiosity overpowered your common sense, and you fussed with it and ended up here,” the girl finishes for you. a lame nod paired with an embarrassed smile is the only response you manage. she shoots an unimpressed face back. “you’ve always been the smart one... since when did you become an idiot?”

“years of being with an idiot–”

“ieiri-senpai – what the fuck!? who the hell are you??”

the familiar screech, you never knew was so raucous until now [suguru was right], snaps your explanation in two and you cast a sideways glance to see the exact image you were expecting.

messy hair, black sunglasses [not yours], floral print dress and sneakers – accompanied by a gobsmacked expression and two wide eyes peeking from behind the shades – the younger you stays rooted to her spot in the doorway. you wave at her weakly. “kind of shocking, right?”

“i’m not dreaming, am i?” the target of your question breathes out. you shake your head. “no. i’m real and i’m here.”

the statement drains bits of incredulity from her form and you watch her slowly enter the class and take the seat next to yours. a frown makes its way onto her lips.

“how? and, more importantly, why?”

a short chuckle leaves you.

this is the age when you were the most into the genre of science fiction of everything... the poor student you must be thinking you’re here to warn her of an event in the future or something of the sorts. you debate for a while on if you should play with her concerns or not – then decide against it. she looks too innocent to be teased so cruelly; besides, you never had the slightest of masochistic tendencies.

you smile at her, reassuringly. “how... i grew too curious for my good and ended up fiddling with something i should’ve handled more carefully – hey, don’t touch it,” you slap her hand away from the sundial; she gives you a sheepish grin. you resume with a huff, “and as to why... i’ve no clue. i really wanna go back home and start cleaning again.”

your younger version wrinkles her nose. “ew, why’re you cleaning? just hire some help to do all that work, dummy.”

you resist the urge to pinch the bridge of your nose. you really did hate doing household chores, hm?

“i do have help hired, but sometimes, you really wanna care for your home on your own, y’know? besides...” a tinge of loving exasperation sneaks into your voice. “there are only so many who have the patience to search for candy wrappers in every nook and corner of the– oh, shit. i mustn’t spoil the future for y’all.”

a cheshire cat grin and a confused little frown meet the tense smile you aim at your two companions. shoko drawls, “candy wrappers, huh? how’s living with satoru treating you? must be nice, living with the love of your life.”

“you’ll be the best one to know, senpai, what with barely staying in your rooms whenever iori-senpai's here,” the other girl cuts in with a sharp smile, which becomes soothing when she turns to you. “don’t you let those words get to you; these people are living in a fantasy world of their own, thinking every kind of godforsaken nonsense.” then tapers off, chuckling, when you watch her catch your knowing grin. “ah, sorry. i forgot you’re my future self; you’ll obviously know this.”

“i do,” saying so, you look at shoko. “’toru and i can be roommates too, you know?”

the girl makes no attempt to conceal the eye-roll, nor the scoff. “yeah, but are you? the two of you are literally in love with each other.”

“senpai...” the younger you whines, visibly affronted and annoyed, only to be interrupted by an obnoxious music before she can barely begin her rant. the older girl silently asks you to watch her kouhai – a request you fulfil with an amusement, the latter growing increasingly difficult to stow away with every moment you observe your glowing younger self.

yes, that’s right.

glowing.

from when she accepts the call and places the phone next to her ear, to when she hollers out a cheery “rise and shine, ’toru! you’re late!”, to when she exchanges animated dialogues, giggling, with the boy at the other end, to when she cuts the call and returns her focus to shoko and you, a wide grin blooming on her lips even while she apologizes for having to cut the meeting short — glowing is the only adjective, you think, will suit the teenaged-you.

you brush her apology away with a grin of your own. “it’s okay, go enjoy your day-off with your ’toru. a few more years and you’ll find such relaxing days hard to come by.”

“oh?” the girl pauses, grin melting away in disappointment – however, before you can even attempt to rectify or explain your statement, hauling her by the arm, shoko drags her away.

“off you go, lover girl,” she scowls, shoving her out into the hallways, “you’ve a date waiting; you ought to know better than to mope now.”

“this isn’t a date! and i ain’t moping!” comes the incredulous exclamation within an instant, soon followed by the reappearance of the younger you in the doorway, showing something between an exuberant beam and a worried frown as she inquires, “you wouldn’t call this a date, would you?”

a feeling, strangely similar to sympathy, creeps into your heart.

you hum, “you are going to the new chinese restaurant in roppongi, aren’t you?”

a nod.

shoko raises an eyebrow behind her, as if meaning to query you still remembering details from so long ago. the corner of your mouth lifts. “it’s the dress, ieiri. i seldom wore it so obviously i’ll remember when i did,” you explain, then return your focus to the other girl. she returns your gaze, anticipation brimming in hers. you shake your head.

“i wouldn’t call today’s meeting a date.”

“told ya, senpai!” the teenaged-you exclaims, and with that and a salute in your direction, jogs down the corridor, a listless tune resonating within its ancient walls as she goes humming. shoko shoots a particularly scheming look your way. “you said you wouldn’t call today’s meeting a date, so are there other meetings...”

a casual shrug is what you decide to counter her implications with. “maybe. maybe not. i’m not supposed to tell you.”

“perhaps, you aren’t,” the girl responds, an odd softness developing in her tone. you bite back whatever words you were planning on telling – a soft yet serious shoko is a blue moon, one you know well enough to not take not-seriously.

ignoring the sharp spike in cursed energy from the sundial, you train your senses on the young doctor-to-be standing before you and her solemn countenance as she regards you.

she offers a careful smile.

“perhaps, i too am not supposed to tell you this, but satoru cares for you. very much. and i know you too do. as much as him. but the two of you are simply shit at expressing it. your oblivious ass, more than that lovesick fool.” a chuckle escapes you at this statement – more at its exasperated tone than its words. smile growing freer, she continues, “it isn’t really funny, i’m telling you. it’s more painfully tiring than anything else for us, watching the two of you play this game since forever – something i’ve said to that blindfolded bastard more times than i can count and something i’ve implied to you repeatedly as well. but every word i might’ve said has bounced right off gojo’s thick skin and off your thick skull. however, now–”

the girl stills and you glance to your side to find the object shining. the clock seems to have begun ticking, huh? you choose to finish your friend’s unfinished sentence.

“however, now, seeing the older and more matured me, you decided to try one last time, didn’t you? thinking this might as well be the last chance to pop my bubble of ignorance and free ’toru from the pain of pining, yeah?”

shoko nods slowly.

plucking the sundial from the desk, you give her a smile – one, you hope, shows the true depth of gratitude you feel towards her. watching the way she returns your expression, you think it does. “satoru and i always count you to be one of our dearest friends,” you say, “thank you for always looking out for us, shoko. and as for our alleged feelings for one another...”

you toss her a wink.

“you never lose a bet you place on us.”

shoko’s jaw dropping to the floor is the last thing you see before the classroom melts into a swirl of colours, into the final beige wallpaper of the storeroom. the sundial sits innocently in the hollow of your palm – a funny little antique you feel less sorry now for coming across now. returning it to the open box lying on the floor beside you, you stuff the box back into the cabinet and rise, brushing dust off your trousers.

your flat desperately needs a deep-clean – and you’ve got to finish it in the shortest time possible.

’cause there’s an intriguing story, after all, waiting to be narrated by you to your ‘roommate’ once the latter’s back from work.

bonus:

a shocked gasp rings within the steam-filled confines of your bathroom. you giggle.

“don’t act so offended, ’toru! i had to say something to avoid awkward questions.”

“how can you be so okay with it, sweets?” the 6' 3" man whines, wrapping his soap-lathered arms round your midsection and dropping his head to rest it against yours. you lean back into him, eyes closing in comfort whilst you listen to him complain, “first of all, you didn’t wear your ring–”

“i thought we were over it, ’toru. i didn’t want the ring to get dirty or lost while cleaning.”

a tiny tsk sounds while your left hand is raised and a small kiss is planted on the gold. your heart goes swooning.

satoru’s grumbles continue, undeterred, “next, you blame poor innocent me for your error – even going as far as to refer to me as an idiot – that’s still okay, i guess. i’m willing to forgive. but to call me your roommate – that’s simply unforgivable, darling.”

you let out a tiny hum. eyes opening, you turn to kiss the downturned corner of his lips. it lifts a bit. “i know, baby. i know,” you attempt to appease him, “i shouldn’t have called you my roommate when you’re someone so much more than that.”

blue eyes peering down at you reflect the emotions coursing within yourself now.

“and what might that be?” he asks in a low whisper.

brushing the wet strands of hair away from his face, you whisper back, “my ex- fiancé. you’re my darling ex- fiancé. i should have called you that in front of them, right?”

your eyes blink a mere two times before a set of sharp teeth digs into your neck, pulling a shocked yelp from you, soon followed by the impression of a smug smirk onto your skin. the bath suddenly feels awfully warm – a sensation which intensifies with every little lick and bite pressed down the side of your throat and into your bare shoulder – before satoru lifts his head and a warm puff of breath hits the shell of your ear.

“that isn’t something you must call me, wife. you’ve made me very, very upset.”

“and what might i do to make up for it?” you inquire, though the words tumble out your mouth rather shakily – thanks to the shivers your husband’s wandering hands elicit, rough with callouses yet so gentle with the manner caress you.

“what might you?” gently swivelling your head with a light grasp on your chin, he brushes a thumb along your lower lip – gaze dark and ravenous, you note absently, as it darts over your face. your eyes flutter close at the feeling. “you can let me have a taste of my favourite snack, perhaps, you–”

“you don’t mean the kikufuku mochi, do you?” moving your face away, you ask, annoyed and worried — does satoru not know how much distressing his addiction to sweets is to you?

hold on you slackening slightly, your husband blinks at you.

you glower back. “you can be mad at me for an eternity if you want, satoru. but you aren’t getting another morsel of a sweet dish. you’ve already eat–”

“what makes you think i was talking of mochis, sweet cheeks?” the stumped question interrupts your rant. you let out an angry exhale. “oh, i don’t know. maybe it was you speaking of your favourite snack, satoru.”

“and you think kikufuku mochis are my favourite?”

you raise a brow in silent challenge.

dragging you closer to himself, your husband chortles.

“you think my idiocy is contagious, don’t you? well, breaking news, mrs. gojo, your obliviousness is incurable.”

the furrow between your brows deepens, however, before you can say or ask anything, a pair of pink lips descend upon yours, capturing it in a tantalizingly slow motion – which, needless to say, renders every thought of yours into a mushy white noise.

a turn of events, you reckon, you aren’t very upset with.

you can always bring up the topic, satoru’s trying to evade, tomorrow.

[you don’t, though.

it is very late the next morning when you finally realize, lips swollen and body sore, the meaning of your husband’s statement — and a loud groan falls past you into the hush of your shared bedroom. a husky laugh muffles itself into your hair.

your obliviousness really is incurable... isn’t it?]

▸ masterlist

#gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk drabbles #jjk fics #jjk imagines #gojo drabbles #gojo fics #gojo imagines #jjk fluff #gojo fluff #gojo satoru #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #kit posts 📝

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