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sincerelyyuu · 2 days

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"in the end, it's still you." p3.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ synopsis: after you made your decision to leave your jujutsu sorcerer life behind, you find yourself longing for what once was and risking more than what you bargained for. ➼ pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader, geto suguru x fem!reader ➼ content/warnings: sfw, endless amounts of angst, sprinkles of fluff, heavy jujutsu kaisen 0 film spoilers, heartbreak, regret, unrequited love, death, blood, pet names, sorcerer!reader ➼ wc: 5.4K words ➼ a/n: this is the final part of this little angst series of mine. thank you so much to everyone for the amount of love you've given these three. as always, likes and reblogs are appreciated ♡ ➼ part one, part two, part three

Today was the day. Suguru had coined it as the Night Parade of a Hundred Demons where he intended on releasing thousands of curses across Japan, focusing the epicenters of the attack in Shinjuku and Kyoto.

To say that your life had drastically changed over the last few years would be an understatement. Finding refuge in a grand temple located far away from the eyes of Tokyo, Suguru built himself a cult following. He spent his days collecting money from his loyal followers while also exorcising curses from non-sorcerers who sought him out, deeming him as a god for his “cleansing” talents.

Within this time, your days were simpler. Instead of waking up to the dread of having to fight curse after curse, you spent your time focusing on the little things that brought you joy. You started a little garden that was lush with a variety of flowers and greenery. Thanks to the seclusion of your new home, it made stargazing look something straight out of a fantasy, the night sky always twinkling with millions of stars. With all the extra time, you had many opportunities to curl up with a good book without having to worry about another mission.

Since that fateful night in the village, Nanako and Mimiko became attached to your hip. You became the mother figure they’ve always dreamt of. You loved the girls like your own, spending the majority of your time nurturing them from toddlerhood into the beautiful teens they were now. You were living the simple life you envisioned back in your teen years.

You knew when you left your old life behind that life would be different. Change was inevitable. You just didn’t expect for it to manifest in the man you ran away with.

Suguru took care of you exceptionally well. He made sure you were well fed and gifted you with the prettiest clothes, occasionally leaving small tokens of appreciation for you for embarking on this journey with him. Whatever you heart desired, it was in your hands no sooner than you can think of it. More importantly, no matter how busy he was, he always found time to keep you company. You, as well as the twins, remained his main priority. His beautiful girls.

You watched Suguru slowly become consumed with the idea of jujutsu sorcerers being the superior race. On the outside, he put up an amiable persona in front of normal humans who came to him for guidance in order to collect their curses. On the inside, he loathed their very existence, finding their presence alone to be unbearable and swearing they filled the air surrounding him with a disgusting stench.

Monkeys, he would call them. You hated the term.

He had come to you in the kitchen one day with the biggest grin on his face. It was the happiest you’ve ever seen him in your entire time of knowing him. Pouring yourself a glass of water from the faucet, you leaned your back against the edge of the sink in interest.

“The time has finally come!” he proclaimed as he walked up to you, hands behind his head in a relaxed manner.

“Oh?” you raised an eyebrow at him in curiosity. “And what time may that be?”

“My sources tell me that there is an interesting first year student by the name of Okkotsu Yuta at Tokyo High. He is cursed by a special grade spirit by the name of Orimoto Rika,” Suguru goes on to explain.

You felt an unsettling feeling in your stomach, not liking where this conversation was going. You hummed in response and raised the glass to your lips which he took as his cue to go on.

“I plan on retrieving her. The power she holds is the exact thing we need to put an end to every non-sorcerer in existence,” he sighed happily at what he believed was the light at the end of the tunnel.

Frowning, you replied, “...And how exactly do you plan to do that, Sugu?”

“By killing anyone that gets in my way starting with Tokyo Jujutsu High.”

The glass of water immediately slipped from your hands, seconds away from shattering onto the floor if not for Suguru’s incredible reflexes. Placing the still full cup on the counter, he observed the immense shock displayed in your eyes at his declaration. You wished that he was just pulling your leg and that he wasn’t really considering taking on such a risky and incredibly dangerous task. But a man of his word, you knew better than anyone that when Suguru said anything, he truly meant it.

“Geto Suguru,” his name leaving your lips in a slow drawl, “What in the actual fuck are you talking about?”

Leaning against the counter next to you, he crossed his arms and closed his eyes in thought. “It’s simple really. I will unleash the thousands of curses that I’ve meticulously collected over this past decade into the city. Two cities, in fact. While they send their forces to try and save as many pathetic monkeys as they can, I’ll go after the Okkotsu boy. If he decides not to join our side, that’s fine. I’ll just kill him for Rika instead.”

The more you listened to him explain in detail his plan, the more you found yourself looking at a complete stranger. This couldn’t possibly be the kind Suguru that you’ve known throughout your teens and entire twenties.

Had you really known him at all?

The incredulous look of concern and flash of fear across your face must have been hard to take in because Suguru’s demeanor immediately took on a more serious stance.

“(y/n),” he started to say your name and reached for your hand. This time, it was his turn to be shocked when you immediately yanked your hand away from his as if his touch burned you.

“Don’t,” you demand, taking a step away from him as you felt your blood begin to boil. “What the hell, Suguru?”

The man sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose at your hostile reaction, “I had a feeling you’d react like this.”

You scoffed at his reply, “Did you honestly expect for me to just be peachy about this idea? You’re talking about murdering millions of people! This isn’t what I agreed to when I decided to go on the run with you.”

“I was very upfront with you about my goals. I don’t know why you’re acting like this is something new,” Suguru argued, not liking the tone of your voice. “You made the big girl decision to come with me. Don’t tell me you’re regretting it now?”

You clenched your jaw at his audacity. “You didn’t give me a choice! I’m not the one who decided to go on a murderous killing spree at seventeen on a mission we were both assigned to,” you retorted in exasperation.

“But I stayed with you because I care about you, Suguru. If I didn’t, why would I leave my entire life behind to be here with you now?” you asked, feeling the anger in your veins shift to deep hurt. “You forget that I sacrificed a lot, too. Excuse me if I don’t agree with every choice you make along the way, especially this one.”

Running his hand through his dark locks, Suguru exhaled deeply. He rarely fought with you and he hated every minute you were anything less than happy with him. He angled his body to face you once more and placed his strong hands on your shoulders. When you didn’t instantly pull away from him, he tugged you closer to him and wrapped his arms around your shoulders.

“I’m sorry. I didn't forget how much you’ve sacrificed to be with me and I’m eternally grateful every day I see your face. I know this situation hasn’t been completely fair for you and I only have myself to blame for that,” he apologized sincerely.

“That being said, I’ve made my final decision. I won’t ask you to fight on the front lines nor do I expect you to do anything you don’t want to. You can stay here without needing to get involved or lift a finger. The decision is yours.”

Back to the present, you couldn’t shake the premonition that something really bad was going to happen. Your anxiety in your heart refused to dissipate with the uncertainty of what's to come looming over you. You hated this. You hated how this is what it all came down to.

You made it clear to Suguru that you weren’t going to take any innocent lives. However, you refused to sit still and play the waiting game while everyone was out fighting for their lives. Naturally, you set your heart on protecting your girls.

“Nanako, Mimiko,” you said to your phone via video chat, “Are you girls doing okay?”

“Everything is good so far, (y/n)-sama,” Nanako replied back and adjusted her phone so that she and her sister fit into one frame. “Where are you? Geto-sama said you’d be here.”

You responded, “I’m here. Just standing out of sight but still keeping an eye on you.”

Standing atop of some miscellaneous office building, you observed the large curse that housed the twins safely inside its mouth. You focused on manipulating your cursed energy to lower it to extreme minute levels in order to hide your presence, blending it with the large amount of cursed energy permeating in the air. Doing so made it difficult to pinpoint your exact location.

“How come you aren’t here directly with us?” Mimiko questioned, feeling slightly anxious but relieved to see your face even if it was through a screen.

You paused, taking a few seconds to think before answering carefully, “It’s complicated.”

How do you exactly tell them that the reason you were hiding to begin with was because you were hiding from the man of the hour?

Gojo Satoru.

You would be lying if you said a part of you didn’t long to see him. You did everything in your power to cut all ties with the strongest sorcerer a decade ago, although it hurt more than anything. You didn’t know if you could ever face him again, especially not now considering the circumstances with Suguru’s plot.

Did he even want to see you?

A pair of sweet voices called out to you and snapped you out of your thoughts. Looking back at your phone, you saw the looks of anticipation on the twins’ faces.

“Sorry, what did you girls say?�� you sheepishly asked.

Nanako pouted adorably, repeating their question, “We asked if we could go to that crepe shop on Takeshita Street with you. Geto-sama promised he’d take us last time but it was closed by the time we got there.”

Chuckling, you nodded to their request. “Of course. When this is all over, we’ll take a girls trip together.”

“Promise?” they said in unison, holding their pinkies up to the screen.

You held your own pinky up and lightly tapped it against your phone. “I promise.”

On the other end, you heard Nanako’s notification sound go off. “They said they’re stepping up the plan and telling us to engage,” she informed you.

Biting your lip in apprehension, you sighed. “Please be careful, you two. Do not hesitate to call me immediately if something happens. Do you understand? I'll catch up with you in a few.”

The pair nodded, holding up their pinkies for emphasis promising you of their safety. Just as you were about to hang up the call, their soft voices caught your ears.

“(y/n)-sama?”

“Yes, my loves?” you answered with concern in your eyes watching them fidget nervously.

“I love you.”

You felt your heart squeeze at the declaration, warmth spreading in your chest as you smiled fondly at the two. They looked at you shyly with pink cheeks looking slightly embarrassed after voicing their affection together. When did they grow up so fast from the little five year olds they once were when you first met them?

“I love you, too. Both of you. See you soon,” you reciprocated, blowing a kiss to the camera.

The twins mirrored the gesture before hanging up. Focusing your eyes back to the curse they were inside, its mouth opened to reveal your precious girls. You waved goodbye to them despite them not being able to see you. Just as you were about to trail them, that unsettling feeling increased tenfold in your stomach. Something was wrong.

Suguru.

You dialed his number on your phone, pressing it to your ear only for the call to go straight to voicemail. This only made your anxiety worse. He never missed a call from you. Wracking your brain on where he could be, his previous words echoed in your mind.

“I’ll go after the Okkotsu boy. If he decides not to join our side, that’s fine. I’ll just kill him for Rika instead.”

Cursing under your breath, your legs began moving on their own.

Run faster.

You repeated the two words in your head like a mantra as you weaved through alleyways and every shortcut you could remember. Your lungs burned with the intensity of it demanding oxygen, but you refused to slow down the pace of your sprint. You were determined to make it back to Tokyo Jujutsu High.

You had to make it to Suguru.

Scanning the black veil that you knew Suguru had casted over the school, you managed to locate a hole that was made by something, or rather someone, else. Slipping through the opening, you finally stepped foot onto the grounds that you once called your home. You hurriedly followed the trails of blood and wreckage of what looked to be the after effects of a lethal fight.

You nearly collapsed as you felt the ground quake beneath your feet, the force of it catching you off guard. The air felt electrified with the sheer amount of cursed energy surrounding you. It terrified you. Despite your fear, you steeled yourself and ran towards where you felt the cursed energy was strongest.

Careening around another corner, you were relieved to see the backside of the man you were searching for. However, your relief was short-lived when you looked just beyond his figure down the path to see a young teenage boy.

There was no mistaking him as Okkotsu Yuta with his special grade curse Rika suspended beside him protectively and looking every bit as deadly as you heard. He was exchanging words with her that you couldn’t hear from where you stood. You saw the way Yuta intimately held her monstrous frame close to his face. The interaction was so full of tenderness and devotion, the kind that would risk it all in the name of love.

But that’s when you realized what was happening. He was sacrificing himself to Rika to release the limit on her cursed energy.

Hearing Rika passionately declare her love for Yuta, you looked in horror as she began gathering all of her raw cursed energy in full force. Flashes of purple and pink coalesced into one massive deadly black orb, a symbol of Rika’s eternal love for him.

And it was aimed directly at Suguru.

“SUGURU!”

You didn’t even hear yourself scream for him, your voice coming out in terror-stricken screech. It was like your body went into overdrive. In your moment of panic, you didn’t have time to think or feel, only running towards him with your heart beating loudly in your ears.

For Suguru, it all happened so quickly.

The moment he heard your voice, he whipped his head to you with eyes widened in alarm. You weren’t supposed to be here. He needed to figure out a way to get you as far away as possible from Rika.

Time almost stopped for the next few seconds.

There was a flash and a strong hand that shoved Suguru’s body back from where he was positioned. A waft of a familiar perfume. The feeling of soft tresses tickling his cheek. A blinding blue glow. He realized too late that it was you moving at an supersonic speed to stand in front of him, safeguarding him as you channeled all of your cursed energy to brace and harden your body for impact.

Then, Rika charged.

Destruction. Suguru’s curses were no match to the power of Rika’s concentrated cursed energy beam. Her attack left devastation in its wake, buildings blown down to their bare infrastructures, dust and debris clouding the pinkened sky, and a deep crater of the battlefield permanently indented into the ground.

For a moment, all you felt was searing pain enveloping your body. You didn’t even register the way Suguru seized you by the waist, jerking you away as he made a narrow escape with you just a second away from death’s door. Your vision faded to black as you closed your eyes.

When you next opened your eyes, the first thing you saw was the back of Suguru’s head. He was carrying you on his back, your arms around his neck and your body swaying in small jerky motions as he limped down the pathway with growing difficulty.

Good. He had made it, you thought to yourself in ease.

‘Made it’ was an understatement. The man was officially missing his entire right arm, the same arm he used to safely pull you away from Rika. Long black hair haphazardly let down, black yukata torn in half to reveal his bare toned torso, right eye swollen shut. He was lucky to have gotten away with just this.

He was only this lucky because of you. You had taken Rika’s attack head on. Even with you using your cursed energy as a shield, it wasn’t enough to stop the negative repercussions. Your injuries were severe. The strength of Rika’s blow left a gaping hole in the center of your chest a hair’s away from your heart, feeling sharp pains with every shallow breath you took. You could feel yourself bleeding out onto Suguru’s back, soaking his robe with crimson. Unable to feel any sensations in your legs, you suspected you were paralyzed from the waist down.

“Suguru,” your raspy voice croaked out.

“You finally opened those eyes, pretty girl. You had me worried for a moment there,” Suguru chuckled quietly.

The two of you fell into a calm silence, only the sounds of Suguru’s footsteps and your ragged breathing to be heard. You wanted to ask him so many questions. Where did Yuta and Rika go? What happens now? No matter how hard you tried to focus on moving your mouth you simply couldn’t, not having the strength to do so. Suguru was the first to break the silence.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” he said tiredly. His haggard face looked absolutely spent with his voice coming out no louder than a murmur. Only loud enough just for you to hear the regret and guilt in his speech.

You chuckled weakly, “Can you really say you were surprised?”

Suguru sighed in defeat, “I suppose not. Although I would have preferred if you had stayed with our girls. Now look at you.”

“That’s not very ‘Thank you for saving my life’ of you, Sugu,” you huffed, gently pinching his cheek in retaliation causing him to laugh lightly.

You felt your heart swell seeing Suguru smile and banter with you so freely. It reminded you of your earlier days back in high school when it was just you, him, and Satoru.

Satoru.

As you leaned your head on Suguru’s good shoulder, your mind drifted to the snowy haired man. It always did. You often wondered if he had changed much since you last saw him. Was he still that confident man that would give his all for the world? The same man that would have burned the world for you? What would your life be like if you had decided to go back to him that day in Shinjuku? So many questions that you would never have answers for. You knew that when you left Satoru that day, you had left your heart with him too.

If only you had the chance to tell him you loved him in person.

Feeling something rise in your chest, you were only able to squeeze Suguru’s shoulder in warning before you leaned to the side to vomit blood, the bodily fluid coming out in a viscous consistency. By the time you were done, you felt extremely weak. Your head felt fuzzy and the severe pain in your chest was beginning to subside the more you bled out.

“I’m dying, Suguru.”

Suguru’s grip on you faltered for a quick second before hoisting you upright on his back once more. He already knew it. He knew you were dying by the faraway look in your eyes and the way you could barely keep them open. You were losing too much blood too quickly. He had exhausted his cursed energy supply on Rika, only having the physical energy to carry you through pure willpower.

“Do you regret running away with me now?” he asks solemnly, slowing his pace down to not rock you too much.

You shook your head, “I don’t. I promised you that I would be there for you until the end.”

“Thank you for keeping your promise,” he expressed genuinely.

When you didn’t say anything else, he turned his head slightly to see you with your eyes closed. He momentarily panicked before he was consoled by the rise and fall of your back that indicated you were still here.

“(y/n)?” he calls, looking straight ahead and walking with no real destination in mind. You hummed in response to let him know you were listening.

“I love you.”

Despite living the last ten years of his life with you, this was the first time he had verbally expressed those three words to you, opting to show his affections for you through actions. But in your dying moments, he needed you to hear just how much he loved you, even if he knew you would never say them back the same way he meant it.

“I know. I always knew,” You smiled guiltily. “I do love you, Suguru. You’re always going to be my best friend. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I couldn’t reciprocate your feelings no matter how hard I tried.”

Suguru nudged his head against yours in a comforting manner. He whispered, “It’s okay. I still love you regardless.”

Feeling exhaustion settle in your bones, you could barely fight the growing heaviness of your eye lids and a sense of calm lulling your senses. Resting your chin on Suguru’s shoulder, he felt your faint breath fan against his neck.

“Sugu,” the nickname sounding so painfully loving on your lips, “I’m sleepy.”

Suguru couldn’t bring himself to watch you die, staring straight ahead so you wouldn’t see the tears pooling in his eyes.

“Sleep, baby. I got you.”

With that, your eyes closed as you took your last breath, your arms around his neck slipping to fall at his sides.

Trudging down the narrow alleyway, Suguru shifted your frame to his front in order to rest your head against his hard chest. Your body was still warm as Suguru held you tighter against him, albeit a bit awkwardly considering the effects of the battle left him with only one arm. You looked so peaceful. If anyone didn’t know any better, they would have assumed you were just in a deep sleep. Only, you were forever in a dream that you would never wake up from.

Suguru felt like a failure. Despite his elaborate plan, he was unsuccessful in securing the special grade curse Rika from Okkotsu Yuta. Experiencing her power first hand, she was truly extraordinary. If he had gotten her, there would be no need to sneak around swallowing curses. He would have had the power to change the world like he wanted.

You wouldn’t have had to die for him.

If only he had a little more time. Hearing footsteps approaching him, Suguru smiled at the familiar presence. With great effort, Suguru carefully lowered you and himself against the wall and held you close.

“You’re late, Satoru,” he announced, his words devoid of any real malice. “To think you’d be the one here at my end. Is my family safe?

“Every last one of them managed to escape,” the special grade sorcerer replied in monotone.

Except you. Satoru took in your lifeless form that was brutally beaten and bloodied by what he assumed was the aftermath of Rika. Your hair was longer than when he last saw you in Shinjuku ten years ago. Your delicate hands that used to hold onto his so dearly were now battered. Bruises adorned your face, crimson from your wounds beginning to dry against your skin. Even after all these years of not seeing you, even in this state, you were still beautiful to him.

“Unlike you, I’m a kind man. You sent those two assuming I’d defeat them, didn’t you? To set Okkotsu off?” Suguru questioned the male, referring to the panda and cursed speech user.

Satoru answered, “I trusted that a man as principled as you wouldn’t kill off young sorcerers without a reason.”

Suguru tiredly smiled at his words. “Trust, huh? I didn’t think I still had any of that left.”

Gaze hardening, Satoru coldly responded, “I also trusted you to keep her safe.”

He knew he was being hypocritical. He spent years trying to seek you out and to bring you home. Once he did, he even considered quitting the sorcerer life to give you the normal life you wanted. Yet you didn’t want to be found and made it incredibly difficult to track you (and naturally Suguru.) The fact you survived this far to begin with was with Suguru’s help, which is more than what he had done. At least Suguru was able to give you some form of happiness. Although he never gave up looking for you, Satoru knew he should have done more to protect you.

And now he has to live with the fact that he couldn’t bring you back home anymore.

“It was always you, you know that?”

Tearing his eyes away from your lifeless form, Satoru wordlessly looked at his best friend who had a ghost of a smile on his lips.

“All of these years away, there wasn’t a day that she didn’t think about you. No matter how hard I tried to get her to reciprocate my love, to open her heart to me, her heart was always set on you,” Suguru admitted bittersweetly.

Satoru could only stand there stunned at the revelation. If Suguru was telling the truth, had you always loved him the way he loved you? Flashbacks of you played back in his mind like an old movie.

The way you would tenderly treat his wounds after he went a little too hard after a mission…

“I swear to god, Toru, you better not come back looking like this again,” you sighed, lightly dabbing the soaked cotton ball of antibiotic on the small gash on his forehead.

“You mean looking this good~?” he smirks, flexing his bicep proudly. Only for his bottom lip to jut out into a pout at the way you playfully roll your eyes at him, not exactly denying his words but also not wanting to feed that big ego of his.

Turning around to grab a clean bandage for his wound, he misses the way a light pink hue blooms across your cheeks.

…making him a bento box of his favorite foods after scolding him for skipping meals…

“Oh?” Satoru chirps, “What do we have here?”

He watched you unravel the prettily wrapped package to reveal the lunch you had prepared for him. Based on the smell alone, he knew you had made his favorite. “A little birdie told me you skipped breakfast this morning,” you sighed.

“Did this birdie happen to be a six foot three tall man with a man bun? What a snitch,” he sighed dramatically.

Tsking, you pushed the bento closer to him. “Don’t be mean. Eat before the food gets cold or else the last hour and a half of me cooking would go to waste.”

Didn’t you just come back from a mission this morning? The thought crossed his mind as he considered how tired you must be but still mustered the energy to cook for him. The delusional side of him imagined if this was what it would be like if you were his pretty little wife.

Grinning, he takes a bite of the food and savors the delicious flavor that hits his taste buds. “Thank you, sweets.”

…and leaving little cute messages in his notebooks to read during class.

Hearing his sensei drone on about something related to cursed energy, Satoru leaned back in his chair with his head tilted back in a silent groan. He swore this boring class had a higher chance of killing him than dealing with a special grade curse. Feeling someone kick his shoe from under his desk, Satoru looked over next to him to see Suguru giving him a disapproving look, gesturing with a nod to the sensei to pay attention. Satoru merely stuck his tongue out at him causing his best friend to roll his eyes. To be fair, he was equally as bored but someone had to pay attention to take notes, right?

Leaning on his hand, he aimlessly flicked through the pages of his notebook, the pages mostly bare since he rarely took notes. Satoru’s interest quirked when his eyes landed on an adorable doodle of a kitty cat wearing black round glasses much like the ones he wore. Beside it was a little speech bubble written in your handwriting that said, “You got this, Toru! I’ll always be here to support you ^o^.”

Chuckling, Satoru turned his head to find you sitting a few desks away from him. Unlike him, you were completely engrossed in the lesson and taking notes like the good student you were. You had your hair tucked behind your ear as you gnawed on your lower lip in concentration. All Satoru could think was… ‘pretty.’

Feeling eyes on the back of your head, you scanned your surroundings before making direct eye contact with Satoru. Despite being caught red handed staring at you, Satoru shot you a flirty wink, snickering at the way you gaped at him in shock. He made a gesture of him pretending to be on the verge of falling asleep, feeling his heart palpitate at the way you couldn’t help but giggle at him.

The next class, he found another doodle in his notebook of that same little Gojo kitty along with the words, “All eyes up front instead of me, Mr. Gojo >.<.”

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. How could he have been so blind?

Or, maybe, he did see all of the signs. Perhaps he chose to actively ignore them because he knew getting involved with you would only put you in danger. He was okay with admiring you from a distance if it meant keeping you safe.

But if he knew things would end up this way, he wished he spent all this time telling you he loved you instead.

“Do you have any last words?” Satoru offered, feeling his heart aching at what was next to come.

Looking to the sky in resignation, a peaceful look graced Suguru’s face. “I never held any hatred for those in Jujutsu High. I just couldn’t wear a heartfelt smile in this world.”

“But she made it worthwhile,” he continued, his voice lowering in remorse as he studied your tranquil face, ingraining every little detail that he loved about you in his mind. “I don’t regret taking her with me. My only regret is not being able to give her the life she deserved.”

Suguru cradled your face in his hand and leaned down to kiss your forehead tenderly, his lips lingering on your skin for the last time. He didn’t react when he heard heavy footsteps draw near.

Satoru brought himself closer to the two people he cherished most in his life. Crouching down so that he was eye level, he reached out to brush the hair away from your lids, wishing so desperately for you to open them so that he could look into those eyes that he first fell in love with. Just as Suguru did, he pressed his lips to your temple, feeling a tear slip from his eye.

Goodbye, my sweet girl. To the only girl I will ever love.

🏷️: @urcutetozier @sad-darksoul @alisoncdariel @paprikaquinn @jjk174

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miupow · 2 days

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「 ♫ 」 ── 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐒 .

you hated minho with everything you had, but you just couldn't stop yourself from coming back for more again and again... he was just so sexy when he was jealous, and no one else made you feel the way he did.

PAIRING ── lee know x fem!reader

RATING ── NSFW, MDNI !

WARNINGS ── college au, fwb!minho, frat boy!skz, toxic and possessive behavior, jealousy, he’s very mean in this im ngl, oral (m. rec), face-fucking, dirty talk, mean dom!lino, degredation kink and name-calling, humiliation kink, slut-shaming, facials, non-consentual photo-taking, i really mean it guys lino is not a good guy

WORDS ── 1.8k

A/N ── an old deleted work i've rewritten for toxic sneaky link minho hehe >< hope you enjoy!! comments and reblogs are always appreciated, thank you ♡

taglist: @mapofthemazeinthemirror , @linocz , @skzooluvr

Minho's white-knuckle grip on your wrist was bruising, his blunt nails threatening to leave little stinging crescents dug into your skin-- you bit your lip to mask your giddy, triumphant smile as he tugged you into the spare bathroom, dragged you through the pulsating crowd as you tripped over your strappy heels. He only let go of you to slam the door shut and lock it swiftly behind him, his wild, firey eyes and grit-tooth scowl melting away to the bored and emotionless glare you were all to familiar with. It pierced through your vodka-soaked confidence in an instant, sent you reeling and scrambling for words to say as a dull throbbing took ahold at the base of your wrist, just over your pulse point. The flourescent lights of the bathroom made your eyes sting, too adjusted to the dark of the party outside-- it just made you struggle even more to look Minho in the eye. He always made you feel so small, towering over you and looking down at you as if you were nothing at all... and you hated it more than anything.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" you spat, rubbing your wrist, fighting to keep your strength as you leveled with his gaze. It wasn't like you to hold your ground like this-- you can tell it throws Minho off, pisses him off even further as he bullies his way into your personal space. The music that had been nearly deafening just moments before had been muffled into obscurity, stripped away to a booming bassline that nearly shook the floor; it reverberated through your body still, a thrumming under your skin that left you restless, nervous. Minho could read it all over your face.

“Excuse me?! What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he hissed back venomously, taller frame advancing on you quickly. His arms come to brace themselves on either side of you, effectively trapping you against the sink-- he crowds your vision, his warm breath fanning across your face, and you try desperately to look anywhere except into his deep dark eyes.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about—" you began, as sturdy as you could, but Minho's rough, humorless laugh cuts you off. His hands grip either side of the sink with force, and you can see the veins in his forearms ripple under the fabric of his rolled-up jacket sleeves.

“Don’t fucking lie to me.” there was something all too familiar about this, Minho’s voice poisoning and dripping with something that makes your thighs shake and rub together— those long fingers you came to hate and adore grabbed ahold of your chin, squeezing your plush cheeks together as he forced your eyes to meet his. a broken, barely-there whimper sneaks it’s way past your pursed lips. “Are you trying to piss me off? Is that it? Whoring around with other guys right in fucking front of me?!”

“We were just talking—“

Minho sneers. “Sure you were, rubbing up all over him and talking all sweet while dressed like a fuckin’ slut.”

He spits the words out like it was a nasty secret, jolting through you with a sickening shock— your cheeks flush hot between Minho’s cold fingers, your panties growing damp embarrassingly quickly, molded to your wet pussy folds… you loved it when Minho was jealous, loved how to see just how nasty you would make him when you hit him where it hurt.

And maybe you loved it because it proved to you, in some sick, backwards way, that Minho even cared about you at all.

“I’m not dressed like a whore,” you retort weakly, sounding far more petulant and pathetic than you meant to.

“Are you kidding me? Fucking look at you, shit. So damn beautiful. I can’t stand it.”

Minho let go of your face and backed away to take in your skin-tight dress, picked with care for the stupid frat party he had pulled you away from, the one that you didn't even want to go to— your hands twitched with the urge to cross your arms, hide and protect yourself in some way from Minho's piercing stare. Your little red dress barely covers the tops of your thighs, thin gold necklace sitting pretty just above the cleavage of your plush tits, spilling out over a push-up bra. Your outfit is complete with deep crimson lipstick painted on your quivering lips— Minho stared at them, wild and hungry, and it takes everything you have not to moan aloud.

"Slutty girl," Minho hummed, hand sliding up to caress at your exposed thigh. “So desperate for my attention… Gotta go whore yourself out so you can get put back in your fucking place? Remind you who you belong to?"

"I don't belong to you." You snapped. "We're not together, Minho-- you don't get to act like this when I see you with a different girl every week."

Minho just laughed, mean and ugly and right in your face, grabbing a rough handful of your thigh and squeezing. "Oh yeah?" he goads, the smirk on his lips doing little to hide the rage in his eyes. "You’re the one who keeps coming back for more, baby— just can’t live without this cock, huh? Constantly telling me it's over then crawling back into my bed. you’re not my girl but that pussy’s mine.”

"Fuck you," you spat, tears in your eyes.

Minho grinned venomously, opening up a pit in your stomach; his thumb ghosted across your skin, inched it's way underneath your dress, leaving a line of fire in it's wake. "Yeah, I know you want to."

You whimpered, torn halfway between pushing him off of you and begging for his touch-- the latter wins, despite all of your anger, your conflicted feelings. It always does. "please, Min--" you plead, desperate and wobbly, unsure of what you're even begging for.

"Get on your knees."

And like the slut you are, your knees hit the cold tile floor without any protest.

You were met immediately with the sight of Minho’s hard on, the outline of his thick cock straining the fly of his jeans. "'Atta girl,” Minho hummed, his voice low, one hand coming to cup your head and the other reaching to fumble with his belt. He looks his prettiest like this, you think, towering above you. Commanding attention and respect, no matter how lowly he treated you. He tugged his belt open, leaves it dangling from his belt loops, quick and rough in unzipping his fly; your mouth watered, eyes wide and hazy as you watch him pull his stiff cock out of his boxers, his shaft slapping obscenely against his belly. “Gonna fuck your face, gonna ruin that pretty throat— open wide, baby.”

His cock was flushed pretty pink and leaking precum, flared tip shiny and throbbing, begging for your tongue— you wasted no time to trail chaste kitten licks over the dripping slit, relish in the way Minho’s breath hitches from the feeling, his fingers tangling in your hair. You closed your eyes in rapture, lose yourself in the salty, bitter taste of his shaft… and Minho grunted low in his throat, tightened around a fistful of your hair and pulled you back off his dick harshly, shaking you out of your reverie and knocking you nearly on your ass in surprise.

“Said I was gonna fuck your throat, stupid bitch. Open your fucking mouth and stop teasing.”

Rougher than usual, he pushed you back to take his cock into your mouth, shoved you all the way down to his twitching balls. You gagged violently, tears collecting in your lash lines. “There we go,” Minho hissed, the hand in your hair rubbing soothingly over your burning scalp. “Take it like a good girl.”

He began to thrust into your throat in true earnest, uncaring for your comfort, heavy balls slapping against your chin in a dizzying rhythm— your whines and whimpers were muffled by his cock, nasty wet noises filling the bathroom as your boyfriend uses you like a toy; the perfect backing vocals for the slow song playing outside. “Shit!” Minho whined, his hips stuttering, your nose bumping up against his pelvis— your lips left smeared red marks along his shaft and the base of his dick, and some sick satisfaction bubbles up inside of you, makes you smile around the cock fucking your throat open; while Minho ruins your makeup, leaves you gasping, drooling and choking, you’re marking him up too. “Good girl, such a good fucking girl--!"

Your pussy throbbed, empty and aching, and it registered somewhere in the back of your mind that you were crying, hot tears and ruined mascara streaming down your flushed cheeks as Minho fucked your face. "I'm-- shit, I'm gonna cum! Gonna take it, yeah? Gonna make everyone know you're mine, all mine-- fuck, 'm cumming--!"

Your eyes rolled back in delight, pretty painted mouth opening impossibly wider in preparation to take his load, but it never came— to your shock and awe, Minho pulled you off of his cock with a sickening pop, just seconds before rope after rope of hot, thick semen shoots all over your face. On your nose, cheeks, chin, some droplets falling on the flat of your tongue— you moaned at the taste despite the abject horror settling in your chest. And you watch, wide eyed and too dazed and dizzy to fight back, as Minho pulled out his phone and snapped a picture of you. He smirked down at his phone screen before turning it around for you to see.

You were a mess. Your hair was disheveled, tangled everywhere from Minho’s hands. Your makeup was ruined, all over your face in tear-stained streaks... your face was pink and blotchy, shiny with splatterings of Minho’s cum, and your lipstick was smeared across your cheek, nearly to your ear. You gasped, frozen in place, unable to react any other way... Minho's smirk broke into a laugh, hollow and evil and eating you alive.

“Aren’t you just the prettiest little thing?” Minho snickered, sliding his phone back in his back pocket. "Might just have to show you off-- such a pretty picture deserves to be shared, don't you think?"

He’s quick to tuck his soft— still lipstick stained— cock back into his jeans and buckle back up his belt, fix his hair in the mirror. He looks a little sweaty but otherwise well-kept, and you wish now that you had kissed him more, marked up his face and neck with lipstick too and not just his dick, when you had the chance. "Clean yourself up, won’t you? You look like a mess.”

And with that, Minho unlocked the door and stepped out of the bathroom, shutting it behind him with a dull click.

#skz x reader #skz smut #skz hard thoughts #skz hard hours #stray kids hard thoughts #stray kids hard hours #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #lee know x reader #lee know smut #minho x reader

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dragon-kazansky · 3 days

Text

Bridgerton shade of blue

Benedict Bridgerton x Female Reader

Benedict bumps into you, quite literally, at a ball while trying to escape his mother's attempts to find him a partner. You decide to humour him with a dance, not realising just how entwined you would become with him. It seems the universe will find every excuse to push you and Benedict together, no matter how much you fight it.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Season one

Chapter Ten - Duel at dawn

♡♡♡

Meanwhile, at the art studio, Benedict was still lingering around. Most of the artists had vacated the room by this point, but Benedict Bridgerton was still present.

"You have great potential." Henry said, coming up beside him.

"It's nothing," Benedict says sharply.

"Though, for such a staunch critic of others, you certainly lack a clear eye for your own work."

Benedict sighs. "It's the lines. Not what they're supposed to be."

"Take the compliment, Bridgerton. There is no expectation or judgement here. You left all of that back in Mayfair. You can feel free to be yourself here... if that's what you should like."

Benedict smiles.

"It's what works for me, at least. And I haven't been dissatisfied with my lines in... well, quite some time."

Benedict chuckles again. "Well, I've done worse, I suppose, really."

"Mm. Fair enough."

"I seem to have enjoyed myself too much this evening." Benedict looks around at the empty room. "I should be on my way."

"As you wish," Henry says nonchalantly. "But know you are welcome back any time for practice or even conversation."

They both chuckle.

♡♡♡

By the time Benedict gets home, Anthony and Daphne are talking very seriously in the hall. He stops and looks at his two siblings.

"What is it?"

Anthony marches over and grabs him by the arm. "You and I need to talk. Daphne, bed."

Anthony drags his brother to his study.

"I will need you to stand as my second," he says after explaining everything to Benedict.

"What if you get yourself killed?" Benedict asks. He wasn't exactly thrilled about what had apparently transpired, but even less so about the thought of losing his brother.

"Then the title and estates will pass to you," Anthony tells him.

Benedict didn't want that.

"And if you kill Hastings?"

"I shall have to leave the country, and you'll be head of the family in every way that matters."

Again, he didn't want that.

Chuckling I the hall draws their attention to the door.

You laugh with Colin as Violet hangs off the both of you. She's clearly been drinking a lot tonight. She can't even walk straight. You've never seen her so uncomposed before.

The door opens behind you, and Anthony and Benedict are standing there.

"You're clearly sover," Colin laughs with his mother.

"And I'm sober enough to know when you're being impertinent." She chuckles. "Good night, dear."

You giggle. Violet waves at you lazily, and you chuckle again at her inability to remain composed.

You turn to see the two brothers still standing there and nudge Colin. He looks at you and then at them. They wave him over.

"Good god. Did someone die?" Colin asks.

You look at Anthony, who glances at you, his sowlnt thank you for helping bring his mother home. Then your gaze shifts to Benedict, who looks at you with a strange expression. You wonder where he's been all evening.

Colin turns to you. "Get home safe, okay?"

You nod, knowing your maid was waiting outside. You watch him walk toward his brothers and then leave.

♡♡♡

You arrive early to the Bridgerton house the next morning. You had snuck out alone. You had hoped to be there early enough before Anthony left to duel the duke.

Unfortunately they had already left.

You had, however, arrived in time to see Daphne and Colin leaving. When Colin saw you he sighed.

"You cannot be serious."

"I am."

Daphne says your name as she looks at you. "You do not have to witness this."

"I want to. As your friend. I will not allow this stupid, and mind I remind you illegal, activity to take place."

Colin sighs and helps you up into his horse. "Hold on."

He spurs the horse on, leading Daphne to the agreed spot. You hold on tight to him as he rides.

All Daphne can think about is Simon.

"Anthont won't... kill him, right?" You ask, watching Daphne ride.

"No. Sound him, surely."

"Good..."

"Are you worried?" He asks.

"Yes. Are you not?"

Colin doesn't answer.

By the time you arrive within diat ne of seeing them, the two are already stood feet apart with their pistols aimed. It's Daphne who rides faster to get between them.

"Stop!"

Anthony fires his pistol as soon as she shouts, the horse his sister's on rears back and Daphne falls to the ground.

"Daphne!" Simon shouts.

"Sister!"

Both men run toward her.

Colin pulls his horse to a stop, and you both climb off, rushing to them. Benedict drops the pistol case and does the same. He doesn't have time to ask why you're here.

"Are you hurt? Tell me!" Simon demands.

"I am perfectly well, no thanks to you idiots," she says, standing up.

"What are you playing at?" Anthony asks.

"Says the man who just shot at me!"

"You just rode into the middle of a duel!"

"I require a moment with the duke," Daphne says softly.

Anthony tries to stop her, but she stops him in return. Benedict pulls Anthony back and says, "make it brief."

Daphne and Simon walk off to talk.

"What are you doing here?" Benedict asks once they're out of ear shot.

"I came to help stop this ridiculous display."

"You could have been hurt," he says.

"No one got hurt, luckily."

Benedict looks a little lost for words. You sigh and look at him and then at Anthony. The eldest looks at you and nods once, softly. His eyes then flick back over to his sister.

"We must resume before someone should find us," Anthony says to the pair.

Simon nods at him.

Daphne watches him walk and then says, "there will be no need to resume."

Everyone turns to look at her.

"The duke and I are to be married."

You look at her and then turn to the duke. You're not sure what they discussed. He stares at her.

The three brothers look between the duke and their sister.

Whatever they discussed, Daphne made up her mind.

When Simon does not speak against her statement, it becomes clear to everyone that the matter is settled.

Now you all just need to get home before someone sees you all.

♡♡♡

@callmemana - @lilscast - @imgondeletedis - @benedictbridgertonss - @clownsdiehard - @wxnterwidow333

@sillynilly27 - @autumn-slaves - @ben-has-arrived - @ajdelilah - @aadu2173

@booknerdlife - @tamlinrose - @sarahskywalker-amidala - @cheryyluv - @louschan - @lou-la-lou - @cultish-corner

@hopshusushi - @katherinejess - @nannabug - @afunkyfreshblog - @f0x33 - @dd122004dd

@jupitervenusearthmars - @orchiidflwer - @bespinnn - @captainlunaxmen - @winchestersimpalababy - @acupnoodle

@ms-fandomgirl - @fablesrose - @anyaisinyourcloset - @meowzerzstuff - @orchiidflwer - @bespinnn - @crazymar15

@cosmixstar - @bree3parchen -

#Bridgerton shade of blue #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #female reader #dragon writes

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sortasirius · 2 days

Text

I put myself through the shooting again to see what I missed and here's what I came out with (IT'S A LOT):

Jesus Christ the way Eddie looks at Buck immediately

That shot of them just staring at each other before Eddie falls

The way Buck just stands there, completely frozen, doesn't even try to protect himself

HE ABSOLUTELY DOES REACH FOR HIM. HE REACHES FOR BUCK BEFORE HE PASSES OUT

Buck crawling to him and saying "Stay down, I'm gonna come, I got you."

"Hey just...just stay with me, okay?"

Eddie's first and only question is "are you hurt?" to Buck...brothers I am in shambles

Buck like actively cupping Eddie's face and saying "I need you to hang on."

The way Buck almost like collapses when a firefighter bumps into him...

Also INSANE that his first thought on seeing Taylor is "no comment" YIKES!!!

God Oliver Stark...I am in awe of you always

You can tell Buck is trying SO HARD to keep it together for Chris. Like he doesn't want to make things harder on him but it's like everything hits him all at once and he just can't keep it in because telling Chris makes it real. And makes him think that he should have been the one that got shot

"He's a fighter" while wiping away his tears...oh my love

Him breaking down is a relief cry, he drops his phone and just collapses in on himself out of relief

"It's gonna be okay, Buck." I just...love Chris and Buck so much. I love them so so much.

All the tubes sticking out of Eddie I'm sick to my stomach

And Buck takes such effortlessly good care of Christopher, of course Eddie would make him his guardian

"Buck snores...loud." Chris my king

"I'm fine. I'm not the one who got shot." Well it's clear you wish you were babe and that freaks me out!!

It's so interesting the way the rest of the crew doesn't even seem to...clock that Buck isn't just being reckless. Like he's actively trying to die. Daring the sniper to take him out

The fact that Taylor just leaves, playing into every insecurity he has but he doesn't even TRY to fight her leaving when he sees Ana calling...I have nothing to say to this it writes itself

"He doing okay?" "Better than me." BYE!!!

When Buck says it would have been better if he had gotten shot you can tell Eddie is like...stunned at what he said, but he IS recovering from a, oh that's right, major gunshot wound, so it's not like he can say anything about it.

Okay sorry the comparison between Buck telling Eddie "I'm here. I got you." and Athena telling Bobby THE SAME THING after he got shot???????

"Because Evan." I think it's the only time I've heard Eddie use his given name. It means something when he does. In this case "you aren't disposable you bonehead. Not to Chris. Not to me."

Genuinely insane experience. 10/10 would recommend

#buddie #911 #liveblog

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envysparkler · 1 day

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Jason might’ve mentioned a passing interest in meeting Robin—the old Robin, because he was going to be the new Robin, only judging from the low, furious conversation and the death glares, Bruce hadn’t exactly mentioned that to Nightwing—but he wasn’t expecting Bruce to leave him alone with the guy.

“Justice League emergency,” Bruce had interrupted, cutting off Dick’s half-hearted tour of the parts of the Cave Jason hadn’t explored, and disappeared through a zeta tube with a simple behave for Jason and a growled watch over him for Dick. Leaving Jason with the guy that spent the entire visit seething in unconcealed distaste.

Alfred wasn’t home, he had left on one of his rare days off, or perhaps he was aware of the cloud of tension that formed whenever Dick and Bruce got too close to each other, and Jason understood that heroes and emergencies were a part of life, but he didn’t enjoy that that meant that Jason and Dick were left alone in the abruptly resoundingly empty Cave.

“Right,” Dick muttered, not quite under his breath, “I don’t know why I ever expect anything different.” The bitterness was palpable. “Two and half goddamn hours, and he leaves to space.”

Jason shrunk back slightly. It had been clear from the start that this visit was not for him, and his desire to meeting the original Robin had fast dwindled in favor of getting out of ground zero before Bruce and Dick actually started yelling.

Dick blew out a sharp breath and turned on his heel, suddenly enough that Jason flinched. Dick froze, staring at him like he’d forgotten that Jason existed. Jason couldn’t read the expression on his face, and didn’t think he wanted to.

“Jason,” Dick said, carefully pronouncing his name. His blue eyes were sharp and cold. “So. New Robin, huh.” His face stretched into a smile that looked warm for all that it was plastic.

“Yup,” Jason said, inching back another step. “Uh, it was nice to meet you. I guess I’ll see you around.”

“Where are you going?” Perfectly level, calm and even, but it still forced a chill down his spine.

Jason had been terrified of Batman, but terrified in the way he was of shadows and ghosts. Abstract. Not real. Once Batman had proved himself to be human, all that was left was a man—large and trained and dangerous, but who got scolded by his butler and forgot to put on matching socks and bought Jason a stepstool to reach the books on the tallest shelves.

Bruce wasn’t scary.

Not the way that Richard Grayson seemed to be. Quicksilver manipulation of his expressions, smiling when he didn’t mean it, and cold, cold eyes—Jason wasn’t reminded of monsters or demons. He was reminded of the gang members that watched him ducking into alleys with just a little too much intent, the narrowed eyes of his mother’s dealer, the bright, fake smiles that marked the cops he had to run from.

And Jason was here with him, all alone. Robin—Nightwing—trained and dangerous and currently looking at Jason like he wanted to leave him in pieces for Bruce to find.

Jason had read a book with facts about robins just last week. Robins are territorial birds, and disputes can get physical. Fights to the death often occur.

“Upstairs?” Jason hated the way it turned into a question. “I was reading a book, and—um, I wanted to finish it?”

“We haven’t finished our tour,” Dick said, and Jason had preferred the low-voiced hiss to the casual neutrality. “Come on, there’s lots of cool stuff here I bet Bruce hasn’t shown you yet.”

Jason dithered in place, casting a glance at the stairs—Dick was already walking away, heading for the back of the Cave—but as much as common sense was shrieking at him to stay away, go upstairs, don’t stay down in the dimly lit cave with the guy that hates you, Jason was still the kid that looked at the Batmobile and decided to steal some tires.

“Fine,” Jason said, hurrying up to match Dick’s pace. “But I don’t know what you can show me that Bruce hasn’t already.”

“Oh,” Dick’s expression twitched, something flashing for a second, “You’d be surprised.”

~#~

Jason, mouth agape and neck protesting as he stared up at the acrobatics equipment, was speechless. Dick was breathless and flushed and grinning widely, and fuck, this was what Jason had wanted to see. Not Bruce’s sulky other son, or the cold, dangerous Nightwing, but Robin.

“Bruce showed you that yet?” Dick teased, calling down to him from where he was swinging upside down from the ring.

“How do you do that?” Jason breathed out, too amazed to feign at disinterest. Dick had moved like he was an actual fucking bird, like gravity was for lesser things.

“Practice,” Dick laughed, flipping off from the ring and flopping down on the safety net. Even across the rope, he was all fluidity and grace, flipping once more before he reached the ground.

“Bullshit,” Jason rebutted, looking up at the silks and the ropes and the swings, the scaffolding, the way Dick flew—“Tell me the truth. You’re a meta, aren’t you.”

Dick laughed again, bright and twinkling. He looked much happier than the sullen teenager that had met Bruce’s hesitant hope with a scowl. “Nope, just practice. Grew up in the circus. I could fly before I could run.”

“That’s so cool,” Jason said, looking back up at the scaffolding. “Can you teach me how to do that?” Flying through the air, spinning and flipping without a care in the world, unbound by physical constraints…it sounded like the best thing in the world. It sounded like freedom.

It took him too long to realize that Dick hadn’t responded. He turned towards the older boy and saw Dick stock still, expression frozen in a pinched grimace. When he saw Jason staring at him, he turned away. “Sure,” Dick said, in a voice that wasn’t even remotely believable, and Jason flushed at the reminder that Dick didn’t want him here. “Maybe later. You need a lot of training first. How about you show me what Bruce is teaching you so far?”

There was a bite to the words, and Jason had too much of Gotham in him to not respond to the challenge. “Was that an offer to kick your ass?” Jason retorted, stalking past Dick and towards the sparring area. Need a lot of training first. Well, while perfect Richard Grayson had been growing up in the goddamn circus, Jason had been living on the streets. He knew how to fight. “I’m ready when you are, Dick.”

That cold smile was back, like Dick was trying to figure out just where he wanted to stick the knife, and Jason thrummed impatiently on the balls of his feet as Dick slowly made his way to the sparring area.

#my snippets #dick&jay #first meeting

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ivantillz · 2 days

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can u write a fic of ivantill navigating their feelings after the kiss if they were both saved by the rebels

Till was annoyed. He was also feeling a lot of other things, undoubtedly, but annoyance was at the top of the list because why wouldn't they just let him see Ivan already?

"Can you please stop pacing?"

He paused mid-step and glanced over at Mizi.

"I just found out one of my friends who I honestly thought was dead has actually been alive this whole time and my other friend is currently being operated on after nearly giving his life to save me. Sorry if I'm a little antsy."

Mizi gave a small smile, undeterred by his bluntness as usual. Or what used to be usual. Till wasn't so sure what had or hadn't changed.

"He'll be okay, I promise." Even as she said it, her eyes were drawn to the closed door. They couldn't even hear anything through the thick metal. "You heard them; the wound was pretty minor. Just grazed his side."

Till pressed his lips into a thin line, hands curled into fists at his sides.

"Why did he do that?" he asked, barely louder than a whisper. Mizi stood up and crossed the hall, drawing him into a hug. He used to dream about this - having her undivided attention - but now it did little to ease the terrible pain in his chest.

Sniffing once, he hugged her tight. She didn't say anything, even as began to cry into her shoulder.

It was nearly two hours before the door opened and one of the healers - Mizi had introduced them but honestly Till couldn't remember her name; he had been kind of traumatized at the time, okay? - stepped out.

Till tried very hard not to focus on the blood staining the front of her shirt. "He's stable," she said.

"Okay, great." Till didn't even wait before trying to push past her; she didn't budge. "Come on! I just want to see him."

She smiled politely. "I didn't say you couldn't. Just try and be quiet, okay? He might be doze in and out, don't try to force him to stay awake."

Till pursed his lips. "I know," he grumbled. Mizi joined his side.

"Thank you," she said. With a shared nod, the healer left. Inside the room was the other healer; he quietly set a rag on Ivan's forehead before also leaving the room.

"He still has a slight fever," he explained. "If he asks, you can refresh the rag." He pointed to a bucket on the table with what Till could only hope was clean water.

Once he was gone, Till walked over to the bed and sat down. Mizi sat on the other side of the bed. Ivan hadn't stirred since they walked in.

He looked bad - terrible, even. His skin was even paler than usual, there was a bit of crusted blood still at the corner of his mouth, dark circles under his eyes.

But he was alive, and that was all that mattered.

"I'll just stay until he wakes up," Mizi said quietly, staring at him. "I just want to make sure he's okay."

Till had almost forgotten he wasn't the only one who had been wounded by what happened. He suddenly felt a little guilty.

"You don't have to leave," he said instead.

She smiled over at him; there was something about the look in her eyes that made Till feel exposed. He didn't like the feeling. "I think you two need to talk."

He didn't argue, even if the last thing he wanted to do right now was talk about what had happened. Any of it.

Ivan woke up about ten minutes later; he was groggy, as expected, voice hoarse and scratchy.

"Here." Till moved without even thinking, grabbing a cup he had noticed on the table a little earlier.

Ivan was too weak to even hold it. Till adapted quickly; he held the cup to his lips and tilted it back a little. Once Ivan was done, he set it aside again.

"So," he licked his lips. "I guess this isn't heaven, huh?"

Mizi laughed softly. "Not even close. But you're safe here, at least."

He sighed, groaning a little as he tried to sit up. Till moved quickly, gently grabbing his arm to help him. He wasn't even sure if he should be moving yet but he wasn't about to fight him; that just seemed like asking for even more trouble.

"I really expected to die up there," he said once he was settled, the rag fallen at his side. Till grabbed it, plopping it in the bucket for now.

Mizi pressed her lips together. "I think I'm going to go see if they have anything that'll be easy enough on your stomach," she said, gently touching Ivan's shoulder as she stood.

"I'm not hungry," he replied automatically.

She clicked her tongue. "Too bad; you need to eat to recover."

Without waiting for a reply, she swept around the bed and paused just long enough to squeeze Till's shoulder once before leaving the room.

The silence was almost suffocating.

"You weren't really choking me," Till blurted.

Ivan side-eyed him. "Of course not," he said slowly. "Did you really think I would?"

Till opened his mouth, closed it. "I'm not really sure of anything anymore," he admitted quietly.

"It was just a ploy," Ivan continued, looking away. "I don't know. I just needed them to believe it."

It was silent again for a few beats. Till stared at his hands.

"You could've killed me," he said eventually. "I didn't care."

He chanced a look; Ivan was still staring ahead at nothing, his mouth a tight line. "I would've never let that happen," he said and for a moment Till wasn't sure what he meant until - "I would've done anything to ensure your safety."

And that was the crux of it, huh?

Till thought of Ivan's hands around his throat, surprisingly gentle. He thought about his mouth. His lips. He had kissed Till like he was searching for something. Like he needed something.

"You kissed me," he said. It felt weird, finally saying the words.

Ivan snorted, shaking his head minutely. "I did." He side-eyed Till again. "I know it was selfish of me. I know."

"But if you could do it over again, would you still kiss me?"

Till wasn't even sure what had motivated him to ask. Ivan smiled; it was almost sad. "Probably."

He nodded. He wasn't upset. He wasn't even sure if he had been upset, in the moment, not for longer than a second. Mostly he had been confused.

But now that he had time to think on it, he wasn't so confused anymore.

"I never knew," he mused quietly. "I mean." He looked up, suddenly a little angry. "You never told me. You should've told me."

All that time he had been chasing after Mizi and a part of him had always known it was never going to happen. She had loved - she still did - love Sua.

Time wasted. He had never even considered...

"There was no reason to burden you with my own feelings," Ivan said evenly. "I'm selfish, maybe, but I didn't want to make things even more complicated for you."

Till breathed out through his nose. "You really think you were doing that for my sake?" he asked, struggling to keep his voice level. "You think you had the right to decide what was best for me?"

Ivan stared back at him, eyes as dark as ever. "I don't understand."

"You kept it from me," Till continued, pressing a hand to his chest, "because you were scared to say it. You were scared of how I would respond."

Ivan let out a humorless laugh. "We both know how you would've responded, Till." He sighed. "This is a pointless argument to have."

He still wasn't getting it. "No," he said, leaning closer. "We don't know how I would've responded because you never gave me the chance."

"Just like you gave the same chance to Mizi?" he shot back.

Till pressed his lips together. "That is not the same and you know it. Sua loved her back. It was different. I - " He paused, biting the inside of his cheek.

Suddenly the fight was drained out of him. Ivan eyed him warily.

"You what?" he asked, looking cautious and almost nervous. Till had never seen that expression on his face. He always looked so in control of everything. It was nice to be reminded he was really just human like the rest of them.

Till swallowed around the lump in his throat. "I think I could've liked you, Ivan. If only I had known."

Ivan stared at him like he wasn't really seeing him. "No," he said, too fast. He looked more scared, here, than he had up on that stage.

"Didn't factor that into your little plan, huh?" he asked; without asking, he pulled the rag out of the water and wrung it before leaning forward to gently scrub away the dried blood on his chin. "I don't think I ever really liked her, not in the way I thought I did."

Ivan was silent, his jaw clenched.

"I was just - I needed something. An escape. A dream. She was nice to me. Pretty..." Till sat back. "I think I just really wanted someone to care about me."

Ivan glanced at him briefly before looking away again.

"But this whole time I was blind to see I had that," Till felt his eyes burning. "Maybe you weren't as obvious about it, maybe you had your own way of showing it, but... that doesn't matter." He tossed the rag aside and reached for his hand; Ivan stiffened as he grabbed it but didn't pull away. "I would like to have a second chance."

Ivan stared at their hands. "You don't owe me this," he said, voice still carefully even.

"I'm not offering anything because I feel like endowed to you," he squeezed his hand, hard. "You know me well enough to know I wouldn't do that. Now stop fighting me on this and look at me."

Ivan lifted his head.

"Thank you, Ivan," he said, staring into his eyes - dark, yes, but warm, comforting and familiar - "for caring about me, even when I couldn't see it."

Ivan opened his mouth, closed it. He squeezed his hand back. If Till didn't know better, he would even say he was blushing a little.

Maybe he would always have a bit of regret for not really seeing Ivan earlier. Maybe Ivan would apologize many more times for kissing him without permission. Maybe he would try to apologize for hurting Till, even if he didn't. Not really. All the pain he had felt - the real pain - was cured the moment he had known he would be okay. Maybe they would still struggle a lot, have bad and good days, but maybe that was okay.

#alnst #ivantill #alien stage #ivantill fic #alnst till #alnst ivan #alnst mizi #mywriting #hope u enjoy anon!#ivantill requests/prompts are open to all btw #they rly help motivate me soooo

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loving-barnes · 1 day

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LOGAN HOWLETT - A LITTLE GAME

A/N: New Wolverine one-shot. I tried and... I don't know. I like the beginning and then it's like.. okay? Let me know your thoughts.

Pairing: Logan Howlett x mutant female reader

Warning: I have decided not to give proper warnings. I don't want to spoil the story. BUT please, only 18+. Minors DNI.

Words: 4000+

Important note: HughJackman!Wolverine (so he's tall!)

FULL MASTERLIST

LOGAN HOWLETT - A LITTLE GAME

Everyone was looking for her - Magneto’s brotherhood, the X-men, the Avengers and god knows who else. They all wanted her - for good, for bad, to use or to kill. She became the biggest threat in a matter of seconds. That’s why Logan had to be the one to find her first.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get her for months. She was sneaky, using her power to hide from the whole world, even from him. Leaving the continent would be too risky. She had to stay in the States, right? Maybe Canada?

It all happened so fast. There was a moment where he questioned everything. In the end, he wanted to fight for her… with her. Was there still a chance he’d find her? She could be anywhere. Surprisingly, Logan never lost hope.

One day, Logan got a tip from some random skanky woman who approached him in a New York dive bar. He was drinking his daily dose of whisky, head lost in thoughts. He had her picture, looking at it. Such an innocent yet powerful being. His heart ached.

“I know her,” the woman approached him out of nowhere. She leaned against the bar, smiling. Her eyes were locked on the photo. “Pretty girl.”

Logan’s eyes found hers, frowning. “Where is she?” he asked angrily.

She chuckled. “Now hang on, sugar,” she sat next to him, exposing her long smooth legs. The miniskirt didn’t leave anything to the imagination. Logan’s eyes travelled from her legs, all the way up to her face, but he was not interested. “How about a drink first?”

He reached for his drink. It went down his throat in a second. He smashed the glass against the bar, shattering it. His eyes darkened. The adamantium claws got out, pressing them against the woman’s throat. Logan was not in a mood to play around.

People gasped. They were afraid. A mutant in a bar threatening other humans was unacceptable. Guns were loaded and pointed at him. Logan didn’t care.

The woman yelped. Fear crept into her eyes. “Tell me where she is or you won’t be able to see the sun rise again,” his voice was low, intimidating.

“S-strip club, down the street,” she managed to get out of her throat. Her body was visibly shaking. “I saw her there. She was there an hour ago. P-please, don’t hurt me.”

He didn’t say anything. The claws retracted back under his skin. Logan was out of the bar in seconds, heading down the street to the club where the woman said she spotted the one he was looking for. His heart beat fast. Was he finally about to get her? It’s been months.

Everyone wanted the most powerful mutant on the planet. Some wanted to use her, others wanted to destroy her. Logan wanted to get to her sooner than the rest of the world. All he desired was to protect her.

She’s more powerful than Jean ever was, said Charles to him not long ago. They didn’t have a name for her. No one knew where her power reached, or what her limits were. Jean’s dark side was destroyed with the help of the Scarlett Witch. With Y/N, they didn’t know what to expect. Was she worse than the Dark Phoenix?

Expect the unexpected, said Charles to Logan once he decided to bring her back.

Logan’s eyes locked on the big pink neon sign of the strip club. He sighed. Of course, she would hide somewhere in plain sight. Who would try to find a woman like her in a place like this? She was the kindest teacher. Innocence was her second name. Everyone would expect her to flee the country, or hide in the mountains. No, she hid under their noses in the city that never sleeps.

Expect the unexpected. Well, shit, he didn’t expect this at all.

He entered the club. The heavy smell of cigarettes and sweet perfumes hit his nose. The lights were flashing as the girls kept dancing around the poles. They slowly undressed for the crowd of hungry eyes. Men were holding bills in their hands, roaring and whistling, ready to throw them at the women.

Drinks were poured into glasses and onto women’s exposed breasts. Some wished to lick them, to feel their flesh and alcohol on their tongues.

Some ladies brushed their hands against Logan’s shoulders and arms to get his attention. The fake smiles and lustful gazes did nothing for him. They talked to him and tried to seduce him. He remained focused on his goal. His eyes travelled around the place, trying to glimpse Y/N.

Flashes of images hit his mind. He remembered it all - the laughs, the drinks, the simple days back in the X-mansion. The day when their lips first touched, he knew he was a goner.

Logan huffed, anger rising inside of him. Would she sell her body to all those creeps in here? Would she dance for them to make money? The thought of other men touching her body made his blood boil. Logan was sure that if he saw a man touching a piece of Y/N’s skin, he would slice his arm with his claws.

There was no sign of her. Was the woman from the bar lying to him? Was this a trap? Logan’s fists clenched. He had to be careful. Even a place like this could be dangerous. God knows who’d own this place.

Somewhere in the haze, he noticed the familiar eyes watching him. Their colours sparkled in the flashing lights. She was like a goddess, walking around the mist and colours with her long satin robe flying around her. Logan could smell her from afar. The scent was overpowering his senses.

One blink, she was gone. Was he hallucinating? He sighed. His mind had to be playing tricks on him. Or was it her?

Logan.

Her voice rang in his ears. He could smell her more as if she was closer than before. Logan’s body twisted and turned, trying to find her in the crowd. He was sure she was here, watching him like a hawk.

There was a lingering touch on his shoulder. It moved from one side of the shoulder to the other, fingers lightly pressed against his flannel shirt. He could feel the electric touch that belonged to her.

“Y/N,” he breathed her name. No one would be able to hear him over the loud music. “Stop the games.”

He heard a group of women laugh. His eyes moved to them. They gave lap dances to some businessmen. Their hands were all over their bodies.

Again, his nose caught Y/N’s scent. It was so close, closer than before. When his eyes looked forward, he could see her in her full glory. He cursed. Was he supposed to be aroused or upset?

First, he noticed the exposed legs and high heels on her feet. Then there was the dazzling dress that hugged her curves perfectly. Her breasts were about to pop out of that damn outfit. And then there was the damn satin robe. Fuck! Her dress was provocative. Compared to the other strippers, Y/N was wearing more than the rest of the ladies in the club.

What happened to the woman who radiated pure innocence? This was someone else, someone new. Did she have a dark side that decided to wake up from its slumber?

Still, his jeans felt tighter than before.

His legs moved towards her. Logan got through the dancing women who tried to reach for him some more. They wanted a piece of him. When was the last time a man like him walked into a place like this? His eyes and mind were only on one woman.

“Don’t run,” he said to himself. He knew Y/N would hear his words.

Logan knew the game wasn’t over when he heard laughter inside his head. He was close until he wasn’t. She was gone once again. “Dammit, Y/N. Stop this.”

Again, he felt a pair of hands on his shoulder. This time they pushed him down. His ass ended on something soft, comfortable. It was a chair. Where did that come from?

“Want a dance?” He felt a hot breath close to his ear. The touch remained. Logan knew this wasn’t a trick. She was behind him. “I can help you relax.”

Logan had enough of her shit. He swiftly grabbed her wrist, pulling her to him. He was impatient. Her face appeared in front of his. He lost his breath for a second. The red lips, the glitter in her hair… he wanted to devour her. There was a smirk plastered on her face.

“Strip club?” Logan growled. “What the fuck?”

Y/N lazily climbed on his lap, pressing her core onto his forming erection. She bit her lower lip and rested her hands on his broad shoulders. “What’s the matter, Lo’? Don’t you want to have some fun?” she titled her head, raising a brow.

He gritted his teeth. “I’ve been looking for you for months,” he said, angry. “And I find you here? Of all places?”

“It’s good, isn’t it?” she blinked a few times. “Who would have thought that little ol’ me would hide here?”

His hands gripped her hips tightly. He inhaled her sweet perfume. He needed to get straight to the point before he’d lost his mind. “Why did ya run?”

Y/N glared at him. “What kind of a stupid question is that?” she pushed her body from his a little. She had to get a better look at him. “All of you turned against me. One mishap and I became the villain.”

Y/N’s mutation evolved into something no one has ever seen before. It brought the attention of other groups that wanted her neck, or power. The Professor admitted she represented something beyond explanation. Inhuman was the word he used? It was new, dangerous. Fingers were pointed, threats had been made. Everyone pushed until she ran from the X-mansion and left everything behind. Now everyone was after her - the X-men, the Avengers and Magneto. Fuck, she even heard that the government wanted her. God knows how many organisations and bounty hunters were trying to get her. Rewards were made. The numbers had seven figures or more.

Logan’s eyes widen. One of his hands sneaked behind her neck, pulling her closer to him. “I didn’t.”

“Fuck, right,” she rolled her eyes. “When you found out what I could do, you stepped away. I can remember the betrayal in your eyes. Or was it fear? Were you afraid, Logan?” her nose brushed against his. “Were you scared of me or this?” she pointed between them. And then, she pushed away from him.

His right hand gripped Y/N’s hair and pulled on it, exposing her neck. Logan pressed his nose to it, inhaling her sweet scent. “Don’t ever say shit like that,” he threatened. “I was never scared of what was going between us.”

Y/N moved her head and pressed her lips to his ear. “Or did you realise you still wanted Jean?” She hit a sensitive spot. There was a history between Jean and Logan. Y/N knew damn well nothing ever happened between them. The redhead’s eyes were only on Scott. And yet, she had to dig into it.

Logan’s hand moved to her neck, squeezing it. He made her look at him. Even in the dim lights, his eyes darkened. He hated those words that had escaped those pretty red lips. “Stop it,” he growled. “You mean more to me than she ever did.”

Y/N rolled her hips slowly, grinding on his noticeable bulge. Logan moaned with every movement she did. The grip on her throat never loosened. With the flashing lights and changing colours, the tension between them thickened.

“You are lying,” she challenged him.

He squinted at her. “You know damn well I don’t lie, princess.”

Y/N grabbed him by his stupid flannel shirt from all the irritation. “You never reached for me after everything that went to shit!”

“You destroyed a skyscraper in New York,” he told her with a calmer tone. “A fucking skyscraper. Your mutation evolved with a snap of the fingers. No wonder the shock, the fear or everyone’s need to get their hands on you.” Logan pulled her face closer to his. Their lips almost touching. “Before I could collect my thoughts, process what the fuck had happened and get to you, you ran away.”

She squinted at him. “You pulled away from me,” she blamed him.

“I didn’t,” he tightened the grip on her throat. She moaned. “I’ve been looking for you for months - months! You think I’d do that if I pulled away? Do you think I’d pick Jean over you? Don’t think so little of me, princess.”

A rain of flashing lights started. Logan had the perfect chance to see her face. The red lips, the sparkle in her eyes. He saw the whole universe in them.

“Why here?” he had to ask. “Of all places, why did you hide here?”

She showed him her bright smile. “You’d never expect a good girl hiding in a place like this. It kinda worked.”

And then she snapped her fingers. The people around them stopped moving. They became living statues. The music kept going, the lights still flickered and changed. Logan’s eyes widened. His head moved from side to side. Powerful, that’s what Y/N was. And beautiful. Sexy. Dangerous. Good. Her heart was still good. He had to believe.

Waves of anger flashed through his body. It was still a play. If she wanted to play, he would obey - under his rules. “Tell me, baby girl,” the hand from her throat slid down to her breasts. The other hand joined. They squeezed them through the fabric. It made her hips roll some more. “Did you let any of the guys here touch you?” he tilted his head.

Her head tilted back as she enjoyed his big hands on her chest. His nose found her pulse on her neck, pressing his lips to it. He sucked a mark on her neck. “Baby girl, you are mine and only mine,” he growled into her ear.

“What makes you think I’m yours?” she tried to fight back.

“If I was anyone else, you’d use all your powers to get rid of me. Maybe even kill me. You didn’t,” he stated.

“I’d never kill anyone for fun, Logan,” she said. “You know that damn well.” She leaned closer to his face. “I’d never hurt you.”

Their lips met in a kiss that brought colours to their minds. Each colour represented a different plea. I miss you. I need you. I want you. I love you. It was messy, it was sweet. Their tongues danced and explored. It was needy, it was deep. It’s been months since they last shared a passionate kiss.

It brought tears to Y/N’s eyes. As much as she wanted to be strong, in front of him, she couldn’t. He was like a home she never had. Her heart ached that she had to leave him. But what was there to do when they all turned against her? She believed Logan did too.

Logan felt he was falling. Everything around him felt light. And then his back fell onto something soft. The chair under his ass was gone. He grunted, breaking the kiss. There was a bed under his body. “What the shit?” he was confused. “Where are we?”

“Champagne room,” said Y/N who sat on top of him, still fully clothed. The only thing missing was the satin robe. “For some privacy.”

He raised a brow. “And here I thought you’d wanted to give those living statues a show.” That’s when he heard laughter from behind the walls. The people were moving again.

Y/N’s thumb swiped over Logan’s lips. They were stained from the red lipstick she wore. Before she retracted it, he pressed a kiss to it. “Since when did you learn to teleport?” he asked. “Last time I checked, you didn’t know how to do half of what you did today.”

“Just a mind trick, no teleportation,” she said.

Logan wrapped his arms around her waist and abruptly jumped on his feet. He held her tightly until he smashed her back against the nearest wall. She lost her breath for a moment. “I’m not fucking you on that disgusting bed. God knows how many people fucked on it before us.”

“Shame,” she shrugged. “I thought you liked it dirty.” Y/N’s legs clenched around his waist.

Logan’s lips were back on hers in a hungry kiss. When one of his hands reached down to her covered heath, she moaned into his mouth. “There’s the pretty sound,” he chuckled. His lips moved to her neck where he kissed and nibbled on her skin until he left another mark there. That’s when his fingers found the strap of her thong, ripping it off her in one harsh pull.

He looked into her eyes, grinning like a devil. “I can feel how wet you are for me, pretty girl.” His middle finger had buried deep inside of her. “Did other men make you this wet?”

Y/N whined. “I’d never let any other man touch me, Logan,” she confessed.

He tilted his head. This time, two fingers slipped inside of her, fucking her with them. “Then why hide in a strip club?” He curled his finger, hitting a sweet spot.

“Ah! I knew no one would ever come looking for me here,” she gasped every time his fingers brushed against the place that made her toes curl. “Fuck, fuck!”

“Is that so?” he kept questioning her.

She tried to swallow the moans. “I’ve protected the girls from the perves,” she cried.

“God, you are dripping.” His fingers left her core and went straight to his mouth, tasting her. “Pretty princess, you taste divine,” he smirked. Immediately, his lips pressed against her in a messy kiss.

His body pressed hers even more onto the wall as one of his free hands went to his jeans to get out his painfully hard dick. He pressed the tip against her entrance, pushing it slowly in.

“Ah, shit,” she cursed. Her mouth was wide open as she felt every inch of him.

Once he bottomed out, his lips kissed her gently. “Taking my cock like the good girl you are,” he praised.

“Logan,” she moaned his name. “Please, fuck me.”

He pulled out slowly, leaving just the tip in. “Since you asked so nicely,” and he thrust back into her, making her squeal. She clenched around his cock with every move he made. “Doing so good, princess,” he praised her. “Taking me so well.”

It was fast, intense. Before she knew it, Y/N felt her orgasm approaching. One of his hands was already between their bodies, circling her clit. “Fuck, so close,” she mumbled incoherently. “Logan… Logan, please…”

“Hold it, Y/N,” he ordered. “I’m almost there too.”

“I… c-can’t,” she whined. Tears appeared in her eyes. The pleasure was surprisingly intense. Many feelings wanted to burst out into the open. Their lips pressed together in a sloppy kiss. He kept pounding into her as they tried to swallow each other’s moans.

What if this was for the last time? What if this would be their goodbye?

Her insides clenched around his cock as she reached her peak. Her breath quickened. She became a moaning mess while he kept fucking her through her orgasm.

“I’m gonna fill you up, pretty girl,” he announced, staring into her eyes. His breath got lost as the release came, painting the insides of her walls white. The thrusts slowed down until he remained buried inside of her while his cum slowly dripped down his dick.

Logan’s eyes found hers in a post-orgasmic haze. “So pretty,” he grinned. He watched as she tried to catch her breath. “My beautiful baby girl.”

Slowly, he pulled out of her. Y/N gasped once she felt empty. Carefully, Logan pulled her from the wall and put her legs on the floor. He held her tightly. “Fuck,” she cursed.

“You good?” he asked.

Her eyes lifted, meeting his. She smiled at him. “Yes,” she nodded.

Logan put back his jeans while she fixed her already short, slutty dress. There was silence. With each passing second, it got heavier and more awkward.

“I love you,” Logan confessed his feelings. One of his hands reached for her cheek, stroking it with a thumb. “I love you, princess. Goddammit, I fucking love you.”

Her eyes kept scanning his face. These words were never said before. This was new. Y/N’s heart wanted to burst from Logan’s confession. Now that he reciprocated the feelings, she knew she’d do anything for him.

“Come with me, please. I don’t want you to stay here, of all places,” he frowned. Even though they fucked in a strip club, he wasn’t fond of it.

She sighed. “Everyone wants to get me, Logan,” she said sadly. “Once I leave, the hunt will begin - the Brotherhood, the Avengers, the government. I can’t go back to X-mansion. That’s the first place they’ll check. I can’t endanger the kids.”

This is what he was looking for. She was still a good woman. “So staying in a strip club is better?” he questioned. “Or are you trying to say you don’t want to be with me? Is that it?”

Her eyes widen, mouth open. “What? No, no,” she grabbed his big hands, holding them tightly. “I love you, Logan. The only thing I want is to be with you. How can I do that when the world is against me?”

“You are the most powerful mutant on this planet,” he said. “You can do anything you put your mind to.”

“And that makes me dangerous,” she stated. “Fuck, I put down a whole skyscraper with my powers. It was not my intention to do it, but it happened. People were hurt while I tried to save them. Fuck, Logan, the United Nations are now questioning whether mutants can be trusted again. It’s all my fault.”

Logan shook his head, not wanting to accept she wouldn’t leave this place. He had to take her home, where she belonged. The school needed her. Everyone in the X-mansion was worried about her. “Baby,” Logan’s arm sneaked around her waist and pulled her closer to him. “We’ll figure something out. I won’t let any of those fuckers take you away from me. I’ll do everything to keep you safe and protected.”

Her eyes sparkled with tears. “Oh, Logan,” her hand reached for his face, fingers grazing the mutton chops. She chuckled a little. “You are the only man who can pull this off,” she winked at him. “It suits you.”

“So, what do ya say? Come home with me. That’s where you belong.”

“Promise me this, Logan - you’ll be on my side, no matter what happens. Please, promise me this,” she pleaded. “Because, genuinely, I am terrified. I don’t want to hurt anyone, but I will if someone tries to get to those I love.”

He could see it was important to her, to have someone standing by her no matter what. “I promise, princess,” he kissed her knuckles gently. “Fuck, if I could, I would promise you the world.”

How could this grumpy, dangerous man be such a sweetheart to her? It made her knees weak. He was in love and so was she. “Quick question, how will we get back to X-mansion?”

Logan licked his lips. “I have a bike parked at a bar where a woman gave me a tip you work here,” her winked at her.

She made a face. “Yeah, Wendy, she texted me about you,” Y/N winked at him. “I’m mad that you wanted to kill her.”

“Fuck her,” he growled. “Did she write you she was hitting on me?” he raised a brow.

A simple glare was the answer he needed. “So, does that mean you’ll come with me?”

“Yes,” she nodded.

His lips crashed with hers in a loving kiss. Logan’s arms wrapped around her waist, hugging her tightly. “That’s good, baby. Also,” he pressed his lips to her ear. “That little game you played with me when I arrived - hot.”

Y/N smiled. “It wasn’t planned. I needed to find out your true intentions.”

“Through the art of seduction?”

“Something like that.”

#Logan Howlett x reader #Logan Howlett x female reader #Logan Howlett x reader angst #Logan Howlett x reader fluff #Logan Howlett x reader smut #Logan Howlett #Wolverine #Wolverine x reader #Wolverine x female reader #Marvel fanfiction #X-men fanfiction

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lcvclywon · 8 hours

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in sickness and in health

back to masterlist

synopsis After a long fight with Jay you find yourself giving him the silent treatment. Leaving you curled up alone sick in your room, with your only comfort being the instant tteokbokki you had microwaved for yourself earlier. However it seems Jay knew where to be and what to say at exactly the right times.

warnings: mentions of food, mentions of sickness, mentions of kissing, pet names (honey), slight angst, I made YN as the 6th member of lesserafim so that the whole same building thing made sense so...js roll with it pls 😁, also not proof read!, slight fighting

genre ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ hurt to comfort

pairings: idol!jay x idol!reader, established relationship

wc ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ around 1.14k

thoughts frm yuya 💭 i know i said i was gonna go on a hiatus but i needed a serotonin boost from writing after doing a horrendous maths paper.... so semi hiatus i guess ^^ anywaysss this drabble has been rotting in the back of my mind for a while soo here u are, i'm a huge huge HUGE sucker for hurt to comfort tropes so >,<

A week. It had been a week since you and Jay had a massive argument causing the two of you to give each other the silent treatment for god knows how long. However, as if the world was out to get you, the next morning after the fight you had been plagued with a sickness that you couldn’t quite pin down, all you knew was it left you bedridden until Friday.

Due to said sickness, you obviously couldn’t join your group for schedules and barely entered the building for dance practice. You hoped Jay would at least notice your absence, send a message asking where you were or something. But to your dismay, radio silence.

“Who cares about some stupid guy anyways…” Grumbling under your breath you reached for your chopsticks to skewer another rice cake from your measly plate of instant tteokbokki and shovel it down your throat. Maybe excessive spice you couldn’t handle and soft pillowy rice cakes could solve all your problems.

Ding dong! Weird, you didn’t think the members would be back this early?

Begrudgingly ripping the covers off and placing your bowl back on your table, you went to the door. Hair still an oily mess from not showering properly and clothes stuck to your body from sweat, you clearly weren’t in pristine condition to be meeting anyone. Please don’t be a delivery man, please don’t be a delivery man.

However, after opening the door, you found yourself standing in front of the one person you’d been longing for the whole week. Park Jongseong. Your gaze softened slightly and a small smile crept onto your lips, but then you remembered that you were still mad at him. Fighting the urge to embrace him and cry out for his name, you plastered on a stoic expression of indifference.

“What are you doing here.”

“Chaewon told me you were sick,” he said before entering into your dorm, not bothering to wait for you to let him in.

Making his way over to the kitchen he placed a white takeaway bag onto the counter before emptying its contents onto the table: a warm bowl of your favourite porridge and a cup of tea from your favourite cafe.

“What’s this?” positioning yourself in front of Jay, you scanned the table to see the numerous small boxes of side dishes sprawled across.

“Porridge, it’s good for you when you’re sick.” he replied before shooting his head over to the remnants of your tteokbokki “Honey why are you eating tteokbokki, you’re sick you shouldn’t be eating instant food.” he scolded before reaching over throw your lukewarm leftovers in the trash.

“It’s not that bad…” you mumbled whilst picking at the side dishes “And why do you suddenly care, thought you weren’t talking to me” Scoffing you shot him a dirty glare.

“Correction, you weren’t talking to me; I thought you needed some space, as you usually do after a fight.” well he wasn’t wrong, you did express to him that after arguments you wanted some time to cool down by yourself, “and also, I’m not ‘suddenly’ just caring YN. Who do you think Yunjin got all those drinks, medicines, and snacks from.”

Oh… so she didn’t buy them herself. Your gaze reached his eyes as you felt your heart soften slightly, “Okay, well you could’ve sent me a text or something. You could’ve come here and given it to me yourself, why today out of all days do you decide to come huh?” meeting your glossy eyes, Jay could tell how hurt you were over his actions. He couldn’t deny that it pained him to see you this upset.

“Okay look, I’m sorry. I wanted to come over, but Sakura said whatever you caught was contagious and that you isolated yourself to make sure you got nobody else sick. As I mentioned earlier, you told me you liked to have time to cool down after fighting, but it was stupid of me not to even try to text you. Today it all just-” Jay stopped his rambling, catching his breath before sighing out, “I just really missed you YN”

That was all the confirmation you needed to run into his arms and hug him so tight he didn’t even think about leaving again. Jay was quick to reciprocate, arms wrapping around you to engulf you into his warm embrace, head buried into the crook of your neck whispering sweet nothings.

Breaking away from the embrace and tilting your head up you were graced with a warm and familiar smile painted across Jay’s face; a smile you so badly missed the entire week.

“Don’t ever do that again.” you said with a pout

“Promise I won't honey,” his hands reached to cup your face before adding, “Only if you promise to stop eating that stuff when you’re sick.”

“Hey, it’s yummy! I can’t help it that I can’t cook soup or anything, tteokbokki has never failed me.”

“Guess I’ll have to keep bringing you food then.” he replied with a smirk

“Well, I could use a personal delivery man.” giggling you reached up to mirror his actions, cupping his face with your warm hands.

“Oh really, would a delivery man do this?” and with that he pressed a playful peck onto your lips; soft and gentle, something you missed dearly.

“Jay!” you exclaimed, “You can’t do that, you’ll get sick!”

“So. What.” he said between pecks, peppering your face with kisses as you giggled and placed your hands on his chest to try and push him away. Pulling away he looked into your eyes with a warm and gentle gaze, smiling softly before leaning in to give you a proper kiss. Feeling the worry of your sickness transferring to him vanish, you melted into the kiss whilst wrapping your arms around his neck. In response, his hand found its way to the small of your back while the other reached up to cup the back of your neck. It always astonished you how easily he could pull you into his orbit, almost made you forget about the soreness of your body and the fever plaguing you.

Retreating back he giggled at your pouting face. “I’d love to continue, but I wouldn’t want the food I bought you to get cold” intertwining your fingers with his, he led you over to a chair before sitting you down. “Let’s eat okay?” he muttered before taking his spot right next to yours, hand still intertwined with your fingers. His other hand however reached over to spoon you some porridge, moving the utensil closer to your mouth.

You happily bent forward to enjoy the bite he crafted for you, an all too familiar sensation bubbling up within you—a warmth you could only describe as, home. Jay felt like home. And you hoped he would for the rest of your lives.

perm taglist ♡ (send an ask to be added!) @floweryang

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yourfavoritewitchbitch · 1 day

Text

Gator Tillman x Stripper!Reader

18+ Only! Minors DNI!

CW: Porn w/plot. AFAB!Reader. No use of Y/N. Pet names. Subby!Pathetic!Gator. Gator is lovesick. Mentions of past infidelity (no sex beforehand, but visits the reader on the regular). Girlfriend/ex-girlfriend talk. Oral (m receiving). Unprotected p in v. Creampie. Cocky!Gator at the end. Basically two toxic people.

WC: 4.7K (Oops!)

It had been a very productive night at The Tender Trap. You were just finishing up another set under the rush of the pink and red neon lights, gathering the falling tips by the bucket load as he walked in.

Looking as forlorn as ever, head hung low, his usually slicked back hair falling in and around his face and what looked to be a bruise forming under his eye.

You knew the look all too well. He ordered a beer at the bar and took his usual seat in the back taking up the entire bench, stretching his legs out still in uniform sans his kevlar and service weapon. For someone who liked to stay low key, he sure didn't know how to act the part.

You watched from the corner of your eye as his eyes trailed over you. Taking your time to slowly retreat into the dressing room, swaying your hips not bothering to cover your bare chest as you go.

You enjoyed making him wait, only making him more anxious and grumpy, all worked up just that way you liked.

As you sat at your small station reapplying your lipstick, one of the other girls walked in throwing a smirk your way.

“Your boy's out there looking for you.” She snickered.

“He's not my boy.” Replying flatly.

“You tell him that?” Laughing out, as you caught her reflection behind you.

No. You didn't have to tell him.

Gator Tillman only came around when he was fighting with his girlfriend though it seemed to be getting more frequent. You knew all the juicy, sorted details.

Finally emerging from the back, he was nursing his beer looking at the stage with his head tilted slightly, showing signs of boredom, thumb nail slowly peeling the label on his bottle.

Spotting you, his back stiffened sitting up a little straighter making your grin grow a little wider as you passed other patrons and ogling men vying for your attention.

His eyes remained steady on the stage as you sauntered over, trying to stay aloof as if he weren't here just to see you, pointedly avoiding your sultry gaze.

“Took you long enough,” he sassed, taking another swig of his beer as you sat down.

“Oh, I'm sorry Tillman. Did I keep you waiting?” Sassing right back. “Didn't even realize you were here.” Clicking your tongue.

“Nah, sweetheart, not at all. Enjoyin’ the view, drinkin’ a beer. What more could a guy ask for?” He grinned into the bottle, still looking away from you.

Your hand glides across the top of the padded bench seat, hand grasping his thigh making him choke on his next swig, quickly pulling the bottle from his lips wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

The glare he sent your way only made you giggle before you spoke.

“What're you in for tonight? Need a chat…” your fingertips tiptoed up the expanse of his thigh, watching as his breath hitched. “Or a little something more?” Licking your lips in anticipation of the inevitable answer.

He pushed your hand away, setting the beer down.

“Can we at least go to the back before ya’ start gettin' all handsy?” He hissed out, finally looking at you.

You scoff, rolling your eyes.

“What’s your problem? Not like your girlfriend or daddy would ever set foot in here.” Getting up as you spoke.

He lightly grabbed your wrist, preventing you from leaving his space.

“Don't. It's just… ya’ know how it is.” Deflecting. His go to before you can get him relaxed.

“No, I don’t know. But,” sighing and melting into his touch. “Come on, you can tell me about it.”

His hand trailed down, gripping yours, letting you pull him up as his large fingers wrap around yours. You'd thought numerous times about how they might feel wrapped around your neck or stuffed inside your greedy cunt.

He held tight, following you into the back, watching the way your ass looked in nothing but the thong you wore, thighs pushed out with the way your tights were digging into the plush of them. He was already hard, anticipation thrumming through him as you led him down the small hall to a private room.

It was a revolving cycle. He'd either fight with his girlfriend or on some occasions, his dad, and come find you. You were a stress relief, a way to blow off steam without any judgment.

Yeah, you might cost him an arm and a leg but you were worth it.

You stopped momentarily, whispering something to the bouncer he couldn't quite discern over the thumping base and loud music this close to the stage. The guy nodded, as you looked back and began to lead him once more, taking him down a hall where the music began to fade.

“Want another beer before we get started?” Calling over your shoulder, an almost predatory toothy grin thrown his way.

“Nah,” answering quickly. It was always the same. He wasn't interested in drinks or waiting any longer.

You enter the very last room at the end of the hall. The same red walls as the club with a small couch situated at the far end and a pole in the middle. The music was filtering in through speakers hung in the corners.

He continued past you making his way over to the couch as you locked the door. Much like in the bar, he took up most of the space. Wide and domineering.

“You never answered me out there. What're you in for tonight?” Taking long, slow strides toward him.

“I don't really wanna talk tonight.” He huffed out, as you stopped short in front of him standing between his legs.

“Someone's really grumpy.” Tilting your head, hands slowly moving up his chest to his shoulders moving your face close to his, nails digging slightly into the leather of his jacket as you trailed small kisses across his jaw.

You pulled back, gripping his chin forcefully making him look up at you.

“That little girlfriend of yours piss you off that bad?” You chuckled, but he found no amusement in your words, moving out of your grasp with a pout. You found him adorable when he was pissed.

“Poor baby,” you tsked. Pushing up and away from him. Giving him a nice sway of your hips as you walked toward the pole, gripping it and spinning back around.

“Now, Gator, how long have we done this little number? Huh? You still trying to play coy?” You began dancing to the rhythm of the music filling the room as he watched you but stayed silent.

“I know when something is bothering you.” You spoke as you continued to dance. He had to adjust himself, cock now straining the constricting fabric of his cargos, almost painfully.

“If you don't tell me now, you know it'll just eat away at you. You can't even have any proper fun.” Dropping to the floor, crawling toward him at an agonizing pace, never taking your eyes off of him.

You slowly sat in between his legs, hands splayed on either side of his thighs so close to his length, he let out a shuttering breath as you began to lightly outline his cock with your fingertip, feeling it kick up beneath your touch.

Your number one rule was that you never fucked a client. No matter what. Each time you saw him, it became harder and harder not to give in. The way he would fall apart for you drove you absolutely crazy. He was pathetic, in all the best ways.

You laid your head on his thigh, looking up at him through your lashes.

“Gator, baby, tell me what's wrong. You'll feel so much better once you get it off your chest.” Your fake pout and doe eyes were too much.

“Fine. Fuck!” He threw his head back, exasperated because this little game you played wouldn't end until you got what you wanted.

“We fought. Again. We… I… broke up with her.” He sighed, unwilling to meet your gaze.

“Oh.” You lifted your head at that, standing to straddle his lap, legs on either side of his. Shifting to accommodate your frame as you sat down, immediately grinding your hips into his.

“Yeah…” coming out all breathy, as he hesitantly placed his hands on your hips.

“Poor baby,” continuing to move your hips across his lap, his cock hard against you with each pass and swirl igniting something within your own core.

“She… she wanted to get married and I didn't. It would have never worked out. She's just so different from… me.” What he had wanted to say was you. In the back of his mind, he knew this little thing between the two of would never really work out either. He was infatuated with the thought of you. Outside of the club he didn't know anything about you.

“That's such a shame.” Your own words coming out a little breathy, leaning close to his ear, lips pressing right under his jaw. You knew you shouldn't but you pressed in further lips sucking lightly, testing his reaction. When a small whimper escaped him, you only sucked harder, leaving a small mark behind.

His cock twitched, hips bucking up as he pressed you further down searching for more friction, blunt fingertips digging into your soft flesh. You had to bite your lower lip, suppressing a moan before it slipped out. It would be too easy to slip him out of his pants and slide down his shaft, feeling your own wetness pooling in your skimpy thongs, sticking to your folds.

Something, if you admitted to yourself, you'd also thought about numerous times. You'd heard the rumors. You'd felt his cock and knew it was big.

“You like that, Gator? Want me to mark you up? Let that little girlfriend and daddy know what you really like? What you've been up to?” You licked his pulse point, debating on sinking your teeth into his bared throat.

“Yeah.” He huffed out.

“Oh, Gator.” You pulled back, taking a hard look into his eyes. Glossed over, pupils taking over his mossy irises, now almost black.

“You'd regret it in the morning. I'm sure she'd see you and cry and you'll apologize and she'll take you back.” You chuckled, pushing off his chest slightly but he had a firm grip on your hips.

“I won't regret it.” He gritted out, nose to nose with you, lips daring to ghost over yours. “Don't you see what you do to me? I'd let you do anything to me.” Bucking his hips again for emphasis.

You'd done this cat and mouse a dozen times, always ending the same. You'd dance for him, grind on his cock all the while letting his hands roam over your hips and thighs, and even that was pushing it while trying to maintain a level of professionalism. But you always made it fun. He could vent while you'd take his mind off of whatever was bothering him, making him cum in his pants and sending him home.

“I know you would.” Taking his hands and shoving them off your waist. “But I have a rule and I'm not about to break it for you.”

Standing and striding back over to the pole, leaving his mouth gaping to stare after you.

“Why not?” He asks earnestly. As you begin to sway with the song, his eyes suddenly drifting down your hips and legs as if mesmerized by the small movements.

“You know I don't fuck clients. Period.” You shrug, turning back to him. “Even if you are a newly single man, if that's even true.”

He tilts his head for a moment, regarding you.

“You don't think I see the way ya’ look for me in the crowd when you're dancin’ up there? Or try to hold back those moans when you're back here alone with me?” He quickly rose, closing the distance between the two of you, suddenly nose to nose with him again.

“Darlin’ I think,” nose nudging yours. “You want me as bad as I want you. Tell me I'm wrong.” Hands finding your sides once more, bringing you flush to him.

Your hands found their way to his chest, to steady yourself, knees almost going weak at his insinuations. Had you been too distracted letting your facade slip? Had he seen right through you? You weren't sure but he seemed to be quickly gaining the upper hand, which simply would not do.

“Gator, baby, I think you're sadly mistaken. I try to make everyone feel like they're the only ones in the room. It's part of the show.” It slightly gnawed at you, watching the way he deflated at your words, lips pouted and eyes down turned, so utterly pathetic when he's sad.

“Go sit on the couch.” Patting his chest as he stepped away, giving yourself a reprieve in the process.

He sighed behind you, plopping back down on the faux leather seat sinking further into the cushion as you wandered back over taking up residency in his lap once more, facing away from him this time.

You swirled your hips, cock pressed hard against your ass.

“Little help?” Looking over your shoulder at him, wiggling your back. His fingers skimmed up, sending a wave of goosebumps across your skin, as he untied your top.

Lifting it above your head, you rose back up, throwing it across the room and turned back around to face him planting your knees on either side of him. Tits now eye level with him but he was looking up at you instead, making your cheeks heat. Why the fuck was he looking at you like that?

You sat back in his lap, hands roaming up the expanse of his clothed abdomen and chest as you leaned back into him, lips grazing his ear as you spoke.

“Okay Gator, maybe I have thought about you and what this big, fat cock could do to my pussy.” Grabbing his bulge for emphasis, squeezing him through his pants as he released a breathy moan.

“So, I-I was right?” You pulled back to look at him, shit eating grin across his face, eyebrow raised in your direction.

“Don't get cocky, or I'll stop this before we even get started.” Quickly shooting back, as he nodded.

“Good boy.” Hands gliding up under his jacket, pushing it off his shoulders, as he helped you pull it off and toss it somewhere across the room. “Now, lay back and relax.”

Some shitty country song was playing but you found your rhythm anyway, grinding against him. His eyes drifted to your breasts, down to where your clothed pussy rubbed against his cock.

“You fucking anybody on the side or was it just virgin Mary?”

He looked a little surprised by your question.

“Just her, but uh, it's been a while.” Sheepishly answering, cheeks suddenly tinged the prettiest shade of pink.

“Ok, good. I don't have any condoms, unless you brought one?” He shook his head. “I'm clean and on the pill. If you still want to do this.”

“Fuck yeah.” He nodded enthusiastically before you grabbed his chin, forcing him to look up at you.

“Undo your belt and pants. I want to see what I'm working with.” He didn't need to be told twice, hands quickly going to work, pulling his pants and boxers down just enough for his cock to spring free, laying between the two of you. He was much bigger than you initially anticipated. Eyes going a little wide with surprise.

He was long, and thick with a ruddy tip, already leaking a pearly bead at the slit. You licked your lips and looked back up to his smug face.

“Ya’ okay darlin’?” Finding a little humor in your sudden stupor.

Quickly flipping your demeanor smirking up at him, devilish glint in your eye as you moved from his lap to the floor settling between his thighs.

“It's a lot bigger than I expected, Gator. I'm not sure you'll fit.” Looking up through your lashes at him, laying it on nice and thick.

“Fuck, y-ya’ don't think so? My gi… my ex always said it hurt too much. Couldn't get more than half before she was cryin’.” You could imagine. His poor little girlfriend didn't realize what she was getting into with him.

You were anything but a good girl, moving closer to his raging erection and pursing your lips letting saliva pool before spitting it onto his shaft.

“Fuck!” He hissed out looking down at you with hooded eyes, as you gingerly wrapped your hand around him letting your thumb swirl at his head collecting his precum before spreading it down his cock and back up.

He squeezed his eyes shut, throwing his head back onto the couch. If he was this far gone from just a touch you weren't sure he would make it to the big finale.

“Eyes on me, big boy.” Squeezing at the base, eliciting his attention as he looked back to you.

“That's it. Couldn't let you miss this.” Saying with a salacious grin before sticking your tongue out to lick from his girthy base all the way up to his tip. The way he whimpered caught you off guard, sending a fresh wave of arousal straight to your already soaked cunt.

Your eyes never left his as you closed your lips around his leaking head, swirling your tongue and humming around the taste of him.

“Mmmm, Gator you taste so good. Did… what's her name ever do this for you?” You asked, it suddenly occurred to you that he'd never said her name out loud.

He shook his head, swallowing thickly, “No. She thought it was too…” trailing off.

“Too what? Dirty?” Kitten licking at his head before finally taking him fully into your mouth, surprising him as his hips bucked up, shoving him further down your throat, making you gag momentarily, before relaxing taking him a little further.

“Oh fuck… shit… that's… goddamn you're a dirty fuckin' girl.” He gritted out, eyes rolling back, all semblance of composure now gone as you began to bob your head, hollowing your cheeks with your hand stroking what your mouth couldn't fit.

“Wait… wait… slow down,” he suddenly huffed out. Trying to catch his breath, as you stilled and pulled off with a slick pop.

“Too much?” Looking back up at him with doe eyes and lips glistening with his arousal.

“Fuck… just fuck me… please?” He sounded pathetic; brow pinched with frustration at his pleading words. “I've thought about this for way too long. I want yo-your pussy.”

“What a needy baby.” Standing back up and planting yourself back on his lap. Just a thin layer of fabric separating the two of you now as you straddled his cock, feeling the heat of him pressed against you.

He leaned in, lips searching for yours, but you pulled back, hands on his chest holding him there.

“No kissing.”

“You'll fuck me raw but draw the line at kissin’?” Confusion flashing across his features.

“Yeah Tillman, I can't have you falling in love with me. This is a one time thing.” You giggled, pulling his hands up and placing them on your breasts as you began to move your hips, dick catching your clit, eliciting a moan from your lips but you didn't hold back this time letting it escape.

“Ya’ sound so pretty. Can I?” You looked back at him as he nodded toward your boobs still held in his hands.

“Can you what? Use your big words.”

“Can I suck your tits? They're so perfect an’ pretty. You're so fuckin' pretty.” Watching the way he kneaded them between his calloused hands as he spoke.

“Go ahead.” He quickly ducked his head, hand trailing to your lower back pressing you further into him as he sucked one of pert nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue before lightly biting, making you arch into him before he switched to the other side giving it the same attention.

While he was mildly distracted, you took the opportunity to reach down and slide your panties to the side exposing you fully to him, grinding down once more. He popped off, almost breathless looking down between the two of you.

Wasting no time, you raised yourself up, guiding him to your entrance, letting his tip catch slightly looking him in the eye. You both looked a little desperate.

“You sure you want to fuck me, Gator? This dirty, little stripper? You could go back to your girlfriend right now.” The last part came out a little breathy when you sank down a fraction, but it was enough to slightly short circuit your brain.

“Please.” Slipped past his lips so quietly, if you hadn't been looking directly at him you would have missed it.

You watched his eyes roll back, as you began to slide down his aching cock, moans from both of you filled the air. Inch by inch, you took him further than he had imagined anyone could. If you weren't so soaked and horny you knew it would be a stretch for you.

His hands found your waist, grip tight as he dug into your supple flesh as you continued to sink further onto him.

As you neared the base, his girth began splitting you open in the best possible way as you stilled your movements, giving yourself a moment to adjust.

He refused to open his eyes, as good as it felt, he was afraid if he looked at the way your pussy had engulfed him, he'd burst right then and there.

You saw the way he held an almost pained expression. His jaw was slack, breathing heavily, already absolutely wrecked.

Moving your hips back up, removing him almost entirely, cock head staying buried in your tight heat, you swirled your hips slightly before working back down.

“Oh my God! Fuck!” He all but cried out, whimpering when you took him a little deeper this time, halting when his cock all but nudged at your cervix.

“Fuck! You're so deep!” You moaned out, grabbing his hand, pressing it to your lower abdomen. “Bet you can feel yourself in there? Huh?”

“Jesus Christ!” He hissed, finally looking down to where the two of you connected.

“No, just me, Gator.” You laughed, pushing his hand away, as you started bouncing lightly at first. His cock massaging your inner walls with each delicious up and down motion.

The way your walls were sucking him in, constricting around him with each pass he wasn't going to last long. Luckily, neither were you. You'd worked both of yourselves up into a fevered frenzy, ready to combust.

His cock was brushing that spot deep within you as you slowed down your movements. Grinding more than a bounce, the patch of hair at the base of his cock catching your clit with each pass igniting that spark in your lower belly. You closed your eyes, letting the feeling take over.

“You want me to cum all over your cock?” You rushed out, hand snaking up, pulling at the locks at the back of his head.

“Yes! Oh, fuck!” He whined out, not sure where his eyes should land, switching between your blissed out face, bouncing tits and back to where your pussy was staking claim to his dick. He was ruined.

Your moans grew louder as you neared your impending release, no longer able to stifle them as you continued to ride him.

His grip on you getting harsher with each passing second, sure to leave finger shaped bruises behind as he grew more desperate.

You felt that white hot heat pooling in your lower belly, as his cock continued to prod up against that spot along your frontal wall that made you see stars. You worked your pelvis a little more back and forth, feeling it again and again with each grind.

“Ahhh! Fuck! Gator, I'm… I'm…” You couldn't get the words out before you started to come undone. Your cunt clamped down around him, practically strangling his cock as he held tight to you, holding your hips steady as he began to fuck up into your tight heat, working you through your release and chasing his own.

Your fingernails dug into his shoulders, as you continued to moan and writhe atop him, trying not to collapse, as he used you like his own personal fuck toy.

A few more sloppy thrusts and he pulled you down on him, crying out as he practically impaled you on his length. He felt his balls tighten while letting out a guttural moan as his release spilled into your tight channel, a few more weak thrusts and he dropped his hands.

Too spent, you didn't move right away as you both sat there, chests heaving, trying to catch your breath.

“Shit,” you growled, knocking you both from a peaceful afterglow. You were seven minutes over his time and lucky that no one had started looking for you yet.

You peeled yourself away from him, hissing as he slipped out of you and pulled your thong back into place.

“Why the rush darlin’?” He asked, adjusting himself back into his pants and sitting up.

“You're over your paid time with me, Gator. This isn't a fucking hangout. Let's go.” Finding his jacket on the floor and tossing it directly at his chest as you pulled your top back on.

You reached for the handle once he had straightened himself up, throwing his jacket back over his shoulders.

“Hey, wait.” He called out before you turned the knob. “You goin’ back to work?”

“After that?” You snorted at the absurdity of it. If you didn't get to the dressing room, he'd be dripping down your leg. “Hell no, I've made enough tonight. I'm going home.”

“Yeah, that's good.” Nodding his head. “Ya’ need a ride?” Looking at you a little hopeful after what had just transpired.

“Gator Tillman, such a gentleman?” You chuckled. “Look, we don't have to do this. It was just sex, that you practically paid for. I'm not your girlfriend, I'm just a good time.” You winked at him, turning the handle but before you could open the door, he was behind you, arm outstretched above your head, palm pressed heavy into the wood.

You looked back at him, wondering if you'd suddenly said something wrong but that shit eating grin was back as he looked down his nose at you, eyes full of mischief.

“Thought I'd try to be nice, instead of just suggestin’ I could take you somewhere and bend you over the bed of my truck. But ya’ don't seem to like nice.” His words traveling straight to your core.

“Good to see that cocky demeanor is still intact, Tillman, but I told you this was a one time thing.” You smirked, pushing at his chest enough to get the door open and slip out, leaving him a little stunned. He watched you disappear down the hall, sighing as he made his way back to the front to pay the rest of his tab.

Once you made it to the dressing room you didn't bother cleaning up, pulling off your tights and throwing on some shorts and a tank top while haphazardly tossing your belongings back into your bag as you quickly exited the back.

You knew you'd fucked up. That lovesick look in his eye told you everything. You could eat this man alive, and he would smile while letting you. All without knowing your real name.

But it's just a little fun, right? What's a little more? You'd already broken your first rule, why not make the most of it?

Pleased to see you'd made it outside first, you propped yourself up against the wall close to the alley and lit a cigarette watching the front.

He finally stepped out, keys in his hand walking over to his truck. When he turned his back, that's when you finally spoke.

“Hey, Tillman!” He quickly turned; eyes wide as you strode up to him. “You still offering that ride?”

Tagging some mooties that might be interested: @hellfirenacht @thecreelhouse @xxbimbobunnyxx

#gator tillman smut #gator tillman x you #gator tillman x stripper!reader #gator tillman fic #gator tillman x female reader #gator tillman #joe keery #gator tillman x y/n #gator tillman x reader smut #🐊#fargo s5 #fargo season 5 #joe keery smut

56 notes · View notes

fairykazu · 2 days

Note

hi pookie !!!!!!! congrats on 500 u deserve it frfr 🫶 for the event, can u have a bouquet of petunias with dan heng? thank you and congratulations again teehee :3

petunias with dan heng prompt: realizing feelings side note: oh mu god i think i brainrotted and then forgot my train of thought. this isn't exactly the prompt but he does realize it i swear. i might write a follow up afterwards because i hate the way i ended this. event masterlist 𝜗𝜚 hsr masterlist

nervous was a feeling that dan heng never allowed himself to feel, he only let it fleetingly pass by like the winter breeze. but he doesn’t understand how he began to feel anxious around you, just simply on edge just by being near you. he could just sweat pure bullets from the amount of sweat he could feel, making his palms sweaty.

when the both of you went on an assignment for collecting extinguished cores, he nearly left mid-fight, not that he’d leave you in the middle of a fight, but your hand briefly touched his and he died within that moment. after that, he zoned out the entire mission, just focusing on the touch between his thumb and your index finger. his and yours, and his and yours-

frankly, he doesn’t understand this feeling. if he asked someone on the express, surely, they would know why he’s acting this way. but he doesn’t want to seem like a bother to them. maybe he’d resort to them after a good dive into the archives.

there was a gentle knock against his door but he didn’t hear it, head too deep in various books that were wide open. stacks of books and stacks of books littered the archives’ floors, it was like a maze to even just travel to dan heng. there were books like feelings and how to understand them and are you anxious? there are reasons why in the shelves. although, he was confused how they got there, maybe when march got them to read for fun, he was thankful.

did he get the answers he needed? no. but they were helpful regardless yet he was in a dead end. well, it’s time to ask the express, maybe they’d know and surely, they would tell him. but when he tried to seek out answers from himeko and welt, they exchanged a look and laughed with each other.

welt cleared his throat. “okay, himeko, let’s not laugh too much, maybe he knows why.”

himeko wiped a tear from her face from laughing too much, catching her breath, “welt, c’mon, just look at him. he doesn’t know anything!”

“dan heng isn’t clueless.” they were talking about him as if he didn’t even exist. until both of them looked at dan heng as if there was something he was supposed to know. “is there something im missing?” dan heng asked, confused.

“no…”

“okay?”

. ❀

back to the drawing board, he walked into his room, seeing march and stelle sitting in there. march raised a brow, “dan heng, your room’s a mess, even messier than stelle’s!” it was true, despite the silver haired girl protesting against the so-called “allegations” march is painting on her, his room was messy. there was post it notes on the walls, books on the floor, mattress and even the fan? was he really that deep into researching this feeling, if it is even real?

“i was curious about something, that’s all.”

“about what?”

“name, something about name. they’re confusing me.”

stelle quipped back, “what? that you like them?” the girl in pink gasped, march slapped stelle’s shoulder, “stelle!” she continued in a whisper-yell, “you weren’t supposed to tell him, he was supposed to figure this out himself.”

dan heng tilted his head, deep in thought, ignoring the commotion the couple was making in front of him.

what? no, no, he doesn’t like name like that.

“look what you did, stelle! you broke him.” march said, tapping on dan heng’s shoulder as if he was a buzzer in a game show.

sure, sometimes, dan heng imagines a world where the two of you are together. tranquil hours spent in the park, just looking at each other. or cooking with each other, have a cat or a dog and rest together until the end of time or he’d pray to an aeon for eternity to exist forever just to see you as you both grow old.

but that’s because this is how friends act, right?

#love language of flowers 𝜗𝜚 vidia's 500 event #hsr x reader #gen #gender neutral reader #gend #gender neutral terms #gender neutral insert #dan heng x reader #dan heng x you #dan heng #dan heng hsr x reader #hsr fluff #hsr dan heng

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most-datable-datable-bracket · 1 day

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QUARTER-FINALS MATCH 3

Claude propaganda:

"To say Claude has trust issues is an understatement—you have to spend half the game earning his. (Claude isn't even his real name!) Once you have it, though, he's absolutely ride or die for you until the stars go out. He is so full of heart and ambition: He wants both sides of his heritage to get along, he wants to open borders and eliminate xenophobia and promote equality between commonfolk, and deep down, I think he craves a partner to stand with him at that new dawn, or an equal who sees his vision for the future and will fight for it just as hard. Nobody believed in him when he was a kid, but if you put your faith in him, he'll return it tenfold. Some people don't like that he's calculating, or has to leave the player character at the end of the game to go back to his homeland, but both are necessary elements for his goals to change things. He will always come back, and everyone who bets against him and his love for his companions is wrong with a big fat W. #KhalidForMostDatablePrez"

"Claude is a fun little onion of facades. He calls himself the embodiment of distrust, he acts like he's carefree and without worries, an unscrupulous schemer--and so many in universe buy into that hook line and sinker. He's used to others viewing him with suspicion and uses it as armor to obscure his not-so-dark truth: that he cares immensely, that he values minimizing the loss of life, and that above all he has so much hope that people will fundamentally choose to do better given the choice.

His front guards a center that his conflict filled world would be happy to tear apart. As the child of people from two nations in constant conflict--one of which is explicitly isolationist and dehumanizes those outside its church's reach--he hasn't really had a place where he can be without his facade. As a child he thought he could run, but when confronted with the fact that this hatred existed no matter where he ran, he chose to instead try to create a more just and kind world.

His inability to let others in beyond his facade at first may lead to a sense of distance, but isn't it then all the more satisfying when you're allowed in? All he wants is a little trust, a little faith, and--like what he wants to give everyone--a chance to be better.

And like that you got a charming young lad with a fun personality that your grandma would be thrilled to have stay forever."

Milo propaganda:

“they were in the last contest sure but i feel like they could get farther. like they're literally a nonbinary grim reaper that's also an influencer and sure sometimes the influencer stuff can get kinda overwhelming i feel like it's very clear that they care about you and want to be around you. you guys go on a reaping date. their eyes and nail colour change based on their mood too and i think it's a really cute detail!! also SLIGHT SPOILERS but they even reference rocky horror in their special ending. they are perfect to me and i love them and i believe they deserve a second chance <3”

"Vote for Milo because they deserve it

They're literally so attractive

- They are a social media influencer

- They are obsessed with an adorable little kitty and will do everything in their power to make this cat the most beloved creature in existence

- They love makeovers and helping their friends rebrand (this includes working with Damien and the PC to help Jerry the Murderer rebrand so that they really has a brand identity)

- They are a grim reaper and even help the PC plan the PC's own funeral (special ending) and they give a great speech and it's super sweet

- They will sometimes take the PC on reaping jobs with them and shenanigans ensues

So in summation, vote for Milo because, as I repeat, they deserve it"

#claude von riegan #fire emblem #fire emblem: three houses #FE:3H #milo belladonna #Monster Prom #Monster Camp #Quarter-Finals #MDDC 2

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unseemingowl · 1 day

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Saga Anderson, and Nordic rep in Alan Wake 2

Early on in Saga Anderson’s exploration in Alan Wake 2, she runs into Ilmo Koskela. Fiercely proud of his Finnish heritage, Ilmo gregariously makes note of Saga’s Nordic sounding name and the familiar design of her knitted sweater. Perhaps a fellow Finn?

Alas no, Saga’s mom is Swedish she informs him. Immediately Ilmo’s face falls. I’m not sure if it’s actually just the animated character defaulting to his resting face, but either way the timing is too perfect. Cue uproarious laughter from me. People in the Nordics are on friendly terms of course, but we gotta have the tiniest bit of… scornfor each other. All in good fun of course. It’s traditional.

Now, I’m Danish, not Finnish, but still, I feel right at home in the towns of Bright Falls and Watery in Alan Wake 2. All of the little nods to Nordic culture and mindset feel so wonderfully familiar to me. The melancholia, the irreverent sense of humor, the affection for the Finnish and Swedish quirks of the characters. The game feels all the stronger in tone and narrative for Remedy embracing the Finnish roots of the studio.

Which is exactly why it sucks that I almost immediately saw the charm of those narrative decisions weaponised against Saga.

I first watched the scene between Ilmo and Saga on a lets play when I was trying to figure out if I should finally dip my toes into survival horror and buy the game. Delighted by the writing I took a look into the comments to see if people were vibing as hard with it as I was. They were. But I also saw a comment that made me frown.

Paraphrasing, it basically went, come on, like hell a guy like Ilmo would make the assumption that a black woman is Finnish. There are a multitude of reasons why I think that person was wrong, mainly that Nordic people love it when we run into each other in other countries, but it also just made me sad.

Saga being black does not negate her Swedish heritage. Formally, she is American, sure (I assume, not sure how that works in the US), but she’s raised by her single Swedish mom, of course she’s going to identify heavily with that part of her herself. It’s a profound and essential part of who she is.

But hey, I’m a white potato Dane, so I’m not gonna argue that I know much about the experience of being biracial. I’m gonna stick to what I know, which is that Saga is a very moving and beautiful example of something that I’m actually not used to seeing much of - a story about connecting with your Nordic heritage and roots. And it’s part of why I love her so much.

When Nordic people show up in big, international productions, it’s usually as Vikings, and sure, it’s fun to see our wild ancestors, but contemporary questions of Nordic identity and heritage is not something I often see explored. Not even in our own productions.

So much of Saga’s story is about family. Fighting for her current one, Logan and Casey (and sure, David too, lol), and rediscovering her first one. Tor and Odin.

Her discovering her ties to Tor and Odin is profoundly moving and made me teary-eyed several times over. And sure, a lot of those ties are fantastical in nature, but they still feel very much grounded - and what makes us Nordic if not the ties to our myths and legends that Tor and Odin have made themselves the living avatars of.

While Saga’s mom, Freya, had good reasons for leaving the Anderson seer magics behind, seeing them as part of what made her family fucked up, she also cut Saga off from the fullness of her capabilities. It is only through Saga reforming her family, healing its scars and fully embracing the Anderson heritage that she becomes as powerful a parautilitarian as she is at the end of the game. That’s beautiful.

And in fact I think Saga being black only deepens the richness of those themes rather than negate them or make them irrelevant. Because yes, Saga’s story would have been moving if she was a white character too, but I am very well aware that a lot of biracial people of Nordic ancestry can feel alienated from that part of themselves. Not least because questions of who gets to claim a Nordic heritage can get pretty ugly around here. There are most definitely people who share the racist mindset of that commentator. It adds an extra dimension. Which is why seeing Tor and Odin’s eagerness to claim Saga as part of the Anderson heritage is all the more moving. Through her magics, she’s just so obviously an Anderson, and they’re so damn proud to call her theirs and fight alongside her. Because they all got that wild Viking blood in them. They’re part of her and she’s part of them.

Roger Ebert, the film critic once called movies empathy machines. I think games, when they’re at their best, can be an even more intense variation of that. Which is exactly why it baffles me that some people can play through Alan Wake 2 and still think Saga is a stunt-woke character rather than someone fully and beautifully integrated in the narrative. A narrative which, at its most basic level – in my opinion – is about the mystical bonds we form with each other and the rest of the world through art and love and blood and family and heritage. All the great horror doesn’t negate that either, it amplifies it. Kind of like that clicker.

#I really didn’t mean to write like… a fucking essay #so this is probably gonna flop #but I love Saga so much #and as a Scandinavian woman #I feel so seen by her #and I hate that people are being so vile about her character #Saga Anderson #Alan Wake 2

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sailtomarina · 2 days

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Here is Where I Want to Stay

“Fred, do you have a mo–”

Before you could finish your sentence, the office door crashed open with the arrival of his twin.

“We have a problem.”

The tone in George’s voice made it clear the problem needed immediate attention, and the two of you rushed out without hesitation. Fred squeezed your shoulder in passing, however, reassuring you that you’d find another time to speak.

Except, it seemed like everything and everyone was out to interfere.

No matter the time or place, whenever you approached Fred, something would happen that would pull one or both of you away. Not even the shop closing gave you the privacy needed, as not even half an hour after locking the door and cleaning up, Ron clattered down the stairs trailing soot from the flat.

“G-Ginny! Th-the baby! It’s coming!” He gasped out the news and bent at the waist as he attempted to catch his breath.

George scrambled to join Ron as they ran back up, but Fred paused just long enough to throw you a look.

“What are you waiting for? Go! I’ll close shop.” You shooed him along with your hands, earning a grateful smile and wink.

“Thanks, love! We’ll chat later, yeah?”

Then he was gone, leaving you alone in the now quiet store. It felt strange to be the last one, despite having worked there for over a year now as you finished your Runes mastery.

What you didn’t expect was how fun each and every day was with the twins. They didn’t hesitate to pull you into product development and testing, and you found modern applications for runes that you never would have considered in the past. You were so invested in your projects with them, that you neglected your post-graduation job hunt as months passed you by. It was easy to forget about the outside world when working with the twins, especially Fred.

Fred, with his crooked grin and easy laugh. Fred’s eyes that sought you out without fail. He didn’t just look. He saw you with all your insecurities and curiosities and knew just what to say and do to fire you up. Everyday, you went back home alone, and everyday, you told yourself you’d tell him how he made you feel the next time you were alone together.

With a wave of your wand, the lights went out in the shop, but instead of leaving, you took one last look around. Just enough light from the street lamps outside streamed through the window to cast a glow over the polished wood shelves. Maybe it was time for you to bid farewell and move on.

“You’re still here.”

You whirled around at the familiar voice, nearly crashing into his arms as they flew up to catch you. “Fred! What are you doing back already? What about Ginny?”

You felt as much as saw the quirk of his lips in the shadows. “She’s good, as is the baby. It’s a boy. They named him Albus.”

He had yet to drop his arms. They remained circled around you, hugging you close enough to breathe him in. Citrus, smoke, home. You felt faint. “Good. That’s good.”

“What was it you wanted to tell me all day?” His breath tickled your ear.

You didn’t expect his face to be so close to yours when you turned to answer. He’d bent down towards you and now you hovered mere millimetres from one another. The air around you almost tripled in density, fighting your attempts to draw in one damn breath.

“I…” You stuttered to a stop, uncertain of how to phrase your longing.

“You?” His palms smoothed up your back to press you even closer.

“I want…”

How could you think with the way he brushed back a loose curl, or how he brought that same hand to the base of your neck, fingers threading into the strands and thumb rubbing circles against that sensitive spot behind your ear?

“What is it you want, love?” he murmured, lips nearly brushing your own.

“You.” The answer escaped before you could hold it back, rephrase it into something more eloquent.

His thumb stopped its circling and slid down to press upward against your jaw until your eyes met his. “That’s good.”

“It is?”

He hummed in assent. “Otherwise what I’m about to do would be very awkward.”

You had only a second to register the wicked grin that spread from cheek to cheek before you felt a yank to your navel. With a snap of his fingers, the lights turned on just enough for you to take in your surroundings.

“Is this…your flat?”

You knew the answer before he even gave it; there was no questioning in whose room we stood. Those were Fred’s work boots next to the door, and there was his coat hanging on one of the hooks lining the wall. A small pile of books on Runes and Arithmancy sat on the nightstand of a bed made up in navy blue and cream.

“I didn’t bring you here under any pretence. I just wanted to give us a bit of light and privacy since George should be home soon.”

“We could have walked up here,” you teased.

His cheeks turned a delightful pink. “I might have been showing off a bit.”

He barked out a laugh when you shoved him back onto the bed and he bounced in place.

“A bit? You cast those spells wandless and wordless.”

Then you were on him, straddling his hips and tilting his face up towards your own. His reaction was instantaneous, hands grasping your hips and squeezing tight.

“I meant what I said. I don’t want to pressure you into anything.” His hands said otherwise as they slid down to cup your bottom.

Riding high on the confidence you’d lacked earlier, you saw no further reason to hold back. “Well, with your permission, I intend to snog you breathless.”

You squealed at the sudden shift as he rolled you both over and caged you in place. “You have my whole-hearted permission.”

Except, it was him who dived into the kiss first, tasting of whatever sweet treat he’d had earlier. It was him who pulled back to gaze down at you with a soft smile. It was also him who confessed, “I’ve been wanting to kiss you like this for months now.”

“Well, why didn’t you?”

With a little laugh that you pocketed to cherish later, he admitted, “There always seemed to be something coming up: rampant Pygmy Puffs, rogue frisbees, the nonstop disaster that is my family–” He caught his bottom lip between his teeth, the usually bright blue of his eyes darkening as he stared at you.

“What?” You couldn’t help but feel nervous at his continued silence.

“I’ve fantasised about us countless times, but to have you here with me still seems too good to be true. I’m going to wake up any minute now and find that this was all a dream.” He leaned forward, brushing past your cheek, to bury his face in the loose waves of your hair. A hand swiftly followed, burrowing and kneading and relaxing all the muscles in your body. “But this feels so real.”

“That’s because it is real.” You cupped his cheek, thumb catching along the stubble lining his jaw, and brought him up to look at you. “I am here with you, and here is where I want to stay.”

So, you did.

WC 1242

Cross-posted on FB, Tumblr, and AO3.

4.18.24 Hump Day prompt: “Can I speak with you for a moment?”

More second-person POV. It's been fun writing reader insert, mostly because I get to imagine it's me experiencing these moments ;) I hope you don't mind!

#harry potter fanfiction #Facebook: Weasleys Witches and Writers #fred weasley #reader insert #fred weasley x reader #harry potter flashfic

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funficwriter · 2 days

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A Wolf and a Snake (Wriothesley x Reader) Chapter 5: The Tides Are Changing

A/N: Enjoy!

Taglist: @yue-caelum, @reyy-chanx, @mis-disaster, @ladyarchiviste, @keigo-hawks-takami-simp

Warnings: Fighting lol, physical violence, pain, almost-heart failure (?), violent thoughts, yandere shit, yapping, vaginal fingering, a liiil bit of edging

"You've got to be careful.".

Even when scolding you, Agatha always laced her voice with sweetness. You could count the number of times she was genuinely mad at you on one hand. If she was this evening, you couldn't blame her given the circumstances.

"About?".

She sighed.

"You know damn well about what, Y/N. I'm fully on your side, and I think Lord Wriothesley will be great to you. But I worry... It's normal that you are happy beyond reason with him. I fear that you lose yourself in your happiness and forget that you're not supposed to be there, at that time, with him of all people.".

Deep down, you knew she was right. The circumstance that she worried about was your approaching wedding day, which catalyzed more and more restrictions for you. Your parents let you leave the house less and were more strict regarding your behavior, way of expression, speech... Everything.

With that, sneaking out to see Wriothesley was becoming a more challenging endeavor. Once a matter of meeting at night and being back before dawn, you now had to coordinate by the hours, pray to Focalors that no secret last-minute changes required your presence, be careful of the place and who was around (Fontainians, particularly of the higher classes, were Teyvat-renown gossipers), not laughing too loudly, and on top of it all, staying vigilant, which you were becoming notoriously bad at.

You were once a little paranoid, as you should have always been. Now, both you and Wriothesley forgot your meetings' lack of approval and the danger that may ensue. More than once, you risked being late in returning home; Had Agatha not sent a hurried message reminding you that more than one servant asked about you, you would have certainly been late enough for your Father to look for you.

Though the air of your conversation was tense, you knew you had to thank her for saving your skin.

"Y/N...".

She stopped herself from speaking once she said your name. She wouldn't have called out to you if not to say something. Something was troubling her.

"Yes? What is it, Agatha?".

After an awkward minute, she looked up to you. Her eye to yours, and her brow furrowed in disapproval. The same look your mother gave you when you played the piano badly.

"Y/N, I've always cherished you, but I have to say it: This is getting out of hand. Your adventures are becoming more ridiculous by the day. I had to pull out my rosaries to pray that you would come home before Master! I haven't done so in 20 years! I never had to keep this insane vigil over you when you started seeing Lord Wriothesley, because you knew. You always kept track of yourself, and I was fine with it. But developing eye bags? Losing track of time? Corrupting novice police forces? Making me shiver and cry for your safety?!".

All your life, Agatha took your side even if it meant putting her career as a governess at risk. There was no punishment she didn't try to protect you from, even though your parents worried that she would be lenient and ruin you. She even gave Wriothesley her approval, the only adult approval you cared about. Why was her tune changing like this?

"Agatha, I said I'm sorry and you accepted it! You know how horrible my life grows by the day, all for this blond swine I'm supposed to marry! I understand your concerns, but as of now, I haven't seen him in a month, and-".

"Y/N!!!".

She got up brusquely, an uncharacteristic gesture along with yelling your name. A pit of malaise started to grow in your stomach, and you were worried that it would spread to your esophagus and make you vomit. You didn't like where this was going.

"I would be patient if your little plan would yield its output sooner. But this is taking way too long! I've known girls who ran away with their lovers faster than you have! How much more is this going to take!? How many more near heart attacks will you give me?".

"Agatha, you told me to not jump to the drastic measure! We're still trying to do things the legitimate way-".

"Legitimate way? You're already spending your allowance the same way your Father did whenever he wanted something done faster than what the commoner got! Where's the legitimacy in that? Why do you still act for it?".

She went there. The pain was spreading to the pit of your belly, and its top.

"You want to talk about legitimate matters? How about that dumbass you call your half-brother who got kicked out of this manor like a dog? How about how he lost an entirely pleasurable and easy life because he doesn't know that an illegitimate sibling should STAY hidden?".

She gasped, burst into tears and you hugged her while apologizing for getting even lower, and you both cooled off... That's what would have happened in an ideal world where the both of you weren't so stressed. Only the first action took place.

She looked down at the floor, and for a fleeting moment, you wondered whether you had gone too far, digging into such sensitive history. But that ended when she looked up, even angrier and with teary eyes.

Agatha, the sweet-voiced. Agatha, the quiet and low of tone, a constant in your life. You did not think she could yell at you like this.

"My brother? MY BROTHER?!? You can drop the nice, exceptional noble act now! You screw commoners over with rules and break them with no regard for how the rest of us will be affected! At least my brother is still a man of integrity, and he'd sooner shoot himself than take your stupid bribes! Integrity! Can your money buy you that? Can your man-dog fling buy you that, or is he too busy with shiny bracelets and fake promises?!?".

"I never tried to bribe him, Agatha! I'm courteous enough to stay away from him! What do you mean, commoners getting fucked by rules?! Don't you think that I'm getting screwed out of a life I want? And that's why I need to do this behind everyone's backs?! And unlike him, Wriothesley does not make fake promises!".

She got up and close to your face, her tears even more visible. You never feared an adult's wrathful gaze upon you as much as hers'.

"You don't get it, do you, Y/N?".

"What?".

She stopped moving, and perhaps even breathing. Then she giggled and laughed raucously as if she were an evil witch from your childhood books. Or that one tutor who laughed at you when you gave a wrong answer.

She turned to the opposite side, before turning her face so you could see it sideways. She never gave this shit-eating grin.

"At least my brother is happily bound in holy matrimony. If Wriothesley was that intent on marrying you, he would have snatched you between his teeth by now. The length of this little plan makes it clear: He's just having a bit of fun with you.".

A bit of fun.

A day where he'll grow bored, ditch you to your grey life again, and forget about you. A day where he'll marry another woman. Not you.

In the red you saw, you slapped a vase to the ground, perhaps hallucinating Agatha's face.

"AGATHA!".

In hindsight, she was making sense. Wriothesley talked day and night, paper and in person, about how much he wanted to marry you. It was clear that legitimate methods, such as lawfully convicting your fiancé, were failing. Or taking way too long. In your world, these two were one and the same. Your marriage date was not getting postponed, even if you scarred your face the day of.

Agatha was being cruel, but she wasn't wrong. He knew and kept operating like this. You wished Wriothesley was here so you could claw his eyes out. So you could grab your sword and impale the heart he swore was yours. So you could stitch his mouth closed and he'd never tell lies again. So you could embarrass him the same way she just did.

You lunged at her, but she moved out of the way. You landed on the floor, messing up your (favorite color) dress. You never thought your fate could grow crueler. Even the color to your gray was turning out to be a lie.

All you could turn to your back and sob your heart out. Maybe if you avoided Agatha's pitiful gaze... Maybe if Celestia saw your blotched face and heard your cries, she would regret what she wrote as your fate.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

You tried to distract yourself for the rest of the night. You occupied the piano only to play sad pieces and be praised for your "empathy with the composer". You snuck a piece of cake and took a bite before feeling sick again. You walked around the manor and only got a bunch of servants asking if you were alright, and your brother saying: "Don't worry. Whatever moroseness you feel will disappear when you walk down the aisle.". It took everything in you not to burst into tears on the spot.

You couldn't leave this prison you called a manor. The only place you didn't try was the low garden, even if it held the fateful moments of his appearance. Your chase. Your star-gazing. Your first kiss.

At least it wasn't enclosed in walls. It was worth a shot.

It was a night with few stars. You never liked those, because the night you met him was full of them. It was one of the loveliest sights you saw.

It seemed to you like starless nights were a time when most tragedies happened, like tonight and the night Agatha's half-brother- No, brother was exiled. Seriously, you had to correct that "half", even if it was technically true and it hurt her at the moment. You remembered when she started the story with: "My contract has an exclusive clause that I must not tell you this, so please, keep it between us.". And you did. You returned the favor and told her of damning actions that may as well be written in an exclusive clause citing harsh punishment, many of those actions being recent.

You wanted to cry again. Perhaps you still needed to calm down, you thought. Being here didn't help, so it was time to try something new. You left to the kitchen to make lavender and chamomile tea, a brew you often drank before exams or social events. You let the tea leaves steep for a little longer than you should have, hoping that the transitory act of making tea would take up a few more minutes of your miserable day. Once it was ready, you carried the mug to your room, steps as light as they have seen since you learned how to walk.

You set the mug on your desk before crashing down on your bed and taking a deep sigh. By the Archons, what a tiring mess your life was. You had a theory that every noble girl and woman could sleep for the rest of her life. It was tiring: From the acting to the constant monitoring of your actions, you felt like human beings weren't made for this. You were glad your bedroom was away and thus had less sound emerging from it. You were taught to never crash down on your bed as you did, but it was one of those little pleasures. Just like illegitimate snacks and staying up and baltering and twirling around for the pure enjoyment of seeing your skirt float up in circles ('Y/N! Be graceful, your legs are showing!!'), they were the only thing you could be grateful for now. Your governess just joined your family and society's side on how to live, and the man you loved was potentially toying with you all along.

You didn't know which mental picture bothered you more: Wriothesley laughing at your naivete, or Wriothesley courting another woman after he was done with you. It may be the second- no it was definitely the second. The first was horrible, but the second was a far bigger betrayal to you. Agatha would be right: His heart was never yours, his promises were always empty and you may have been blind at parties while he was ogling other women. If it would be because of their faces, should you slash them with a knife or curved dagger? If it were their bodies, should you cut off the parts he was ogling or the ones they liked the most about themselves? Which other women should you go after Wriothesley, if all of this is true? Did he actually prefer common women? Or perhaps... Older, more refined or mature women like your mother?

How could he possibly look at other women when he gave you your first bout of joy, the same way you expected him to give you your first orgasm? If he never wanted you, why would he start all of this?!

But was he looking at other women? During events, you could have sworn that that wasn't true. But what was true anymore? Why wasn't he telling you what was going on? What was going on, why were you the one left in the dark by both him and everyone else about your own future?

Your pained groan ended in its middle when you heard a bark. There was no dog in this room. You looked up to see Frosty on your desk. Unlike the usual, his tail wasn't wagging and he pined once you noticed him. A sad, pitiful pine that expressed you in your current entirety.

"What the- What are you here for? I didn't send Wriothesley anything, do you have something? Wait-".

The window was wide open. Frosty had something in his 'backpack' (did it have the same name for messenger dogs?), but the paper in question was much smaller than the usual letters he sent. The ink looked stronger, too. You opened it. The format of the contents was also starling:

'Y/N

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE FOLLOW THE PUP. I CAN'T STAND THIS.

I LOVE YOU, SO PLEASE COMPLY,

WRIOTHESLEY'

"Where to, then?".

Frosty jumped out of the window onto the ledge. Did he want you to climb? Would this be worth it??

You crawled out of the window frame, thankful that your manor's roofs were easy to climb. Most of them had stairs, and there were odd bricks you could stand on for a bit. You hoped they wouldn't renovate it anytime soon.

Frosty led you up to the highest roof, also a good spot for stargazing. You had to give it to him, being so familiar with the house. You sat down but did not wait for longer than a minute. A black gloved hand grasped the ledge, and up came Wriothesley, panting and sweating as if he had a nightmare. His expression only relaxed when it landed on you.

"My Y/N...".

You stood up and waited for him to be next to you, so he wouldn't fall off. Before he could hug you, your hand finally gathered enough force to do what you thought of for hours.

SLAP!

He fell on the bricks, holding his cheek. He looked up to you in the same pitiful, sad way Frosty looked at you. The pup pined at the sight, akin to a child seeing its parents fight.

"Y/N, please...".

You wanted to scream at him. Ask for the bitch's name, whether he liked her tits or face more, what did she have that you didn't, and how dare he prove your family's stance correct. You wanted to ask him whether he even wanted to marry you. If he didn't want to anymore, to just back off and let you go on your rampage and soil your dress with blood. Take his vision and freeze him with his own powers. Whether he saw you as a young, naive maiden and whether that made you a more fun conquest.

Instead, you turned your back to him. You sobbed as quietly as you could. And that was more scalding to Wriothesley than any of the aforementioned violent actions.

"Y/N, I need...".

He stopped and let out a guttural cry you'd only hear in emergency wards. He was hunched over again. You looked back. Was he acting, just like Archandelle?

"I need you to talk to me, my love..."

"Why are you acting as if you were in pain? I'm the one who's being fucked over.".

"Y/N, what's happening? Who hurt... hurt you? Who d-do you need me to kill?".

He had this pained look all along your interaction. He couldn't have known that you were angry at him; You didn't write to him about it, nor have you seen each other.

"What do you mean?".

"Someone hurt you. Badly. Tell me who it is. Talk to me. Give me a name to end.".

You crouched down and noticed that he was clutching the right side of his chest. His fingers were red and something was lodged in the glove. You snatched his hand to take it out. It was a pill you knew too well. You had more than a few acquaintances - all older men - who took it as the last pillar to stay alive.

Heart medicine.

"Did you get addicted to medicine while I wasn't looking?! Why are your fingers red? WHY AREN'T YOU TELLING ME ANYTHING?!? What's happening to you??".

"You... still don't know? About the bracelet?".

You looked at the wolf crest bracelet he gave you. His marking, right in front of your parents. You reached the point where you always wore it on your person, even if not on your wrist.

"What about that?".

"Flip the wolf over...".

You flipped the emblem to find the upside-down wolf, its eye glaring carmine red. Wriothesley turned the emblem on his heart, the usual blue glow replaced by that same hue.

"What the- What is that?"

"Did you forget? Maybe that's why you're in this state. Among...".

He stopped to take deep breaths as if trying to alleviate his pain. His hair was dishevelled and he was soaked in sweat. His eyes were quivered down on his matted head Even his clothes looked rumpled, and his tie done in haste. Wriothesley was always the one who sent other people to the state he was currently in. Now, something was horribly wrong.

Despite your wishes, your own heart hurt looking at him. As he breathed, you wiped the sweat off his forehead. He stopped you at the third swipe, taking your hand and kissing it.

"Among my first vows to you, I said that your pain would be mine, and my heart was yours.".

Among your false and true memories, the ones he mentioned sprung out. Your emblems' glow reduced by a little, although this sickly shade of red was on his face, both within his flesh and the glow.

"I don't understand, Wriothesley.".

"The bracelet. It transmits your pain to my heart. Sometimes I feel it a bit, but I assume that it's because of... Of your current life. And I say: 'It's okay. I'll bust her out of there soon.'. But tonight... It's like you exploded. Something way more horrible than usual has happened. Someone, maybe. I want you to talk to me. I told you before, as husband and wife, we need to communicate habitually.".

"Wriothesley, why your heart? What if you got a heart attack? What if you died? What about me and you?!".

You couldn't help the fresh wave of tears. Gosh, you hated how sentimental you were. You wanted to hate him, but how could you when he bowed to you, his own heart failing because of your state and still making it a priority to hold and kiss your hand? He linked his heart to you, for Focalors' sake! By official guidelines, this is harmful magic, 'not to be used under any circumstance' for a good reason.

"I told you, my heart is yours. Ever since my eyes landed on you, it always has been, just as your pain is mine. And if someday, you're so upset to the point where I risk death, then I would have deserved it for being a bad spouse.".

You threw your arms around him, your eyes hurting from how much you've cried. He did not hesitate in holding you back. If you concentrated, you could feel his heartbeat, regularizing but still way too fast. You didn't want to imagine what a mess it was before he came here.

"Y/N, do you want to regulate my heartbeat? That is your choice.".

"You fucking idiot! Of c-course I do!".

"Talk to me.".

You let go of him, trying to settle down so you could talk. His ears perked up the slightest bit to listen to you, the first time in this interaction. This was good.

"...D-do you love me? Enough to want to marry me?".

Up to the sky the same ears shot, along with his eyebrows.

"What? I do, more than anything I've ever desired! Did someone make you doubt that? Who is it?".

"Wrio... Why is this taking so long? I'm getting married soon. This will be much harder once that happens. I don't want it to happen. Oh, Wriothesley, today sucked, I even got in a fight with Agatha...".

Once you mentioned her name, a barrage of your last month and beyond started. You didn't stop after recounting the fight; There were the times your parents scolded you for having a curl out of place when Archandelle was coming over. Your brother trying to console you with your 'marriage'. Staying at home for days at a time. Memorizing every nook and cranny of the manor. Having to live like a thief, from hiding your love to your late-night tea. How you feared returning to the same state you were in, years right until you met him.

One good thing happened with this. The more you talked, the dimmer the red glow became.

"... Wriothesley, I feel like any woman with some noble connection is cursed. My mother married a man she didn't love. Agatha's husband abused her and she had to pay a lot to get divorced. My grandmother even loathed her husband, but everyone married her off because he'd 'discipline' her. And I have to follow this tradition of unhappy women, but I don't want to. It feels like I have no one to talk to. I feel alone. I hate it...".

You stopped and took a breath, wondering where all this revelation was coming from. You never opened up to Agatha with this much detail and intensity. This must have been waiting for years to get out. Why did your mind pick him, of all people? Was it because you just so happened to be messy at that moment?

Wriothesley held your hand again. His eyes did not fully dry from a few tears that threatened to come out at some point in your talk.

"Wrio, are you okay? Do you want a cup of tea? Did I talk too much? I'm sorry...".

"No, don't apologize Y/N. For once, my heart feels better because you let it out. Archons, I'm so proud of you for talking...".

"No one else would have been.".

"Well, everyone else is a cruel idiot. Everyone else told you to bottle it up, but you still went against them and told me everything.".

"If I am honest with you, can you be honest with me about a few things?".

For the first time in what felt like forever, he smiled. A small, sincere smile that took even more weight off of you. To you, there was nothing more beautiful, because nothing invoked as many happy memories as that curl of the lips. It was like that darned chocolate cupcake that you both reached your coming-of-age social. Part of you teasingly reminded you of your favorite new pastry, which hasn't changed since your first meeting.

"Without a doubt.".

"Is there another woman you love?".

The smile broke and he looked offended.

"So long as a woman is not named 'Y/N Balthazar', and becomes 'Y/N, Duchess of Meropide', then I couldn't care less about her.".

You tried to repress the blush; It was still too early for this.

"Is there nothing in me that you don't like? Anything that would repel you away from me?".

"In the Fontainian foster system, your father, Archandelle, Teyvat and the world, yes. Lots. In you, no.".

Your legs felt sore, so you lied down. He followed suit, by your side.

"Speaking of Archandelle, is anything happening to him or am I doomed?".

"You will not be doomed under my watch. I'm going to answer this question but first...".

He got up, steadier on his legs than he was. He cocked his head to the side, ushering you to follow him. Once you guys reached the topmost ledge of the roof (your favorite, because it loomed over the City), he handed you an item so familiar and loved, yet unseen for a long time: A wind glider.

"I was thinking of something fun to do, and your manor has some great altitude...".

"I haven't used one in ages! I forgot!".

He chuckled: "You've used it before, that's enough to know. Just trust the skies, my dear.".

He grabbed his own and jumped off, but did not fall. The wings deployed immediately, and his limbs relaxed once they spread out. His first landing spot was easy to reach. It was a lower part of your roof.

"Here! This should be a good start. Now jump!".

Sounding more panicked than you liked to admit (and risking your time), you yelled: "You didn't explain anything!! How did you get the wings? How do you- Why are you laughing at me?!".

He didn't want to make you feel insecure, but he couldn't help his laughter. You were like an adorable, helpless child, relying on him to give you the answers.

"You just have to jump, Y/N! Why would I try to get you to break an arm, huh? Just trust me on this!".

You worked hard to recount the few times you got to use a wind glider. What a horrible time becoming a pre-teen was; You were barred of so many wonderful activities, all for the sake of spending your next years securing a husband. What joy did that bring you? No, the real happiness was when you kicked your feet off the high point, spread your arms out, and floated. You were above the manor's walls, the parlor, the court's and Fontaine. It was like being a part of Teyvat itself. It was freeing.

After these long, monochrome years, your body flew again. Your heart with Wriothesley and your form into the sky, softly landing in front of him, on your feet. He smiled widely, his full and societally hated canines on show. Here was a man at least twice your size, smiling like a school boy before he knew of misery.

"You're great at this! Once we marry, you should consider competing in gliding. You'd definitely win a few medals!".

"Hey, you're the one who encouraged me. Let's pick a lower spot.".

And there was another, and another until you were far from your house's roof. It's okay, you were coming back anyway. You always came back, but he was your only betting chip for the opposite. You either had to put your hope on him, or have none at all.

During your last flight, you deactivated your wings and let yourself fall. You knew you could, you knew you wouldn't die. He caught you in his arms, carrying you by the waist.

"Hey... What was that for, my love?".

"I just wanted to skip to this part.".

Tired, you both lay down, with him encircling his arms around you. He put his head on top of your chest. His heartbeat grew slow and regular - He was safe. You were safe. While it was true that safety was but a wisp in your world, you had to cling to it while it lasted. It was the only way you'd pave a life where you could scratch his fluffy ears as slowly as you pleased, grateful to your younger self who took this risk and leave everything she knew behind.

"I didn't tell you about tomorrow yet.".

The wind gliding made you forget! You looked down at his icy eyes and heard him out.

"They're squeezing a confession out of him. I know, because I made sure 'his' cops wouldn't be at the investigation. From there on, it's free ground for him to go to prison.".

"He still has to be tried, though, no?".

"Yes, but it will only be a question of a lifetime sentence with fellow prisoners or in isolation. I feel like I don't have to ask if you're ready for the Pandora's box it will open...".

He tightened his hold. You knew what box he meant: Noble crime is pretty interconnected. It's common for nobles to see out their own class when committing something that a commoner could not get away with. Archandelle's trial and arrest would also mean that many others; lives would be ruined... Including your own father. It was amazing how they knew each other for such little time, and yet they already had several illegal connections.

"You're right. You don't have to ask. I'm looking forward to that trial.".

"So am I, Y/N. I'll be sure to kiss you in front of them after they're convicted. Maybe slobber up and show them too.".

"Eeeeewwww!".

The idea of a (publicly) slobbering Wriothesley was so uncharacteristic, but so funny.

"It's so I can spit on them! Do you think I should add more tongue for the extra scandal?".

"Honestly, just holding hands would be enough for that!".

"But I'm going all the way!".

"You're such a-!!".

What he was, you couldn't think of. Even your laughter quieted at the sight right under your chin: A fondly smiling Wriothesley, with growingly beet-red cheeks and twitching ears. You often theorized that despite him physically being a grown man with an impressive size, there was a boy who just sought out his own happiness, including that with the ones he loves. Just like you.

He leaned his head to give your jaw a long kiss, before whispering in your ear: "You are worth losing everything I've ever desired.".

"Eh?".

"Though I've remained faithful to my goal, I feel like I haven't been taking the right approach.".

He cozied up against your chest again.

"What do you mean, Wrio?".

"Well... When I first declared that I wanted you, I tried asking your father. Do you remember that?".

"How could I forget?".

"And while it's true that I was digging up dirt on Archandelle, I still tried to go the tried-and-true way. Discover some horrible crime, snitch to the Court, sue and let them punish him...".

"Yes?".

You weren't sure where he was going. You looked down to see him gazing at the moon.

"Maybe I shouldn't have. Maybe I should have just showed up to this door and gutted his fetid body. Maybe I should have killed him during the parties.".

Deep down, you knew you wouldn't have an issue with that. In fact, you might even cheer. Why didn't he do it from the start, then? You felt like you had the partial answer in your hand, scratching it just the way he enjoyed.

He chuckled: "You really like my ears, huh?".

"Speaking of which... Is that partly why you didn't start with the violent approach? Because people are already shitty enough to lycanthropes?".

"Smart. I still remember my shock when you told me you liked lycanthrope authors. It was the first time anyone considered my kin to be something good. But there's another reason. A bigger one.".

You couldn't help but jolt up. Bigger than life-ailing discrimination? As a hybrid and noble man, Wriothesley was already a one-in-a-million case, so it would make sense that he'd want to avoid keeping stereotypes.

He broke his gaze from the moon into yours. Maybe that was part of the reason why he loved you so obsessively: Because there was no getting used to your beauty, your voice, your mannerisms, your smarts and your tenderness towards him. He never liked surprises; Routine was a good way to regulate himself and stay on the down low. Surprise was never a pleasant thing for him from his foster parents to the Beret society. But you? You always caught him off guard in some way, possibly without meaning it. You held gleeful surprise and pleasure and the joys he was constantly told about in the orphanage, but never found until he found you.

The shining look of your (eye color) orbs made him take the vow: He was never going to be passive when it came to you again.

"When I first met you, I had no way of knowing whether you would be okay with that drastic measure. Whether... You were just like me. Whether you, too, spent your life seeking out empty promises. Had you been like most people, jumping to violence would be a sure-fire way for you to hate me. Oh, how could I live being hated by you, Y/N? After everything I've been through, it would definitely break me.".

"Wriothesley...".

"The night we met, I played it passively in hopes of not scaring you away, and keeping my own status. Yes, I still get judged, but it's nowhere near as bad as what I've had before. I thought I would be better off not risking what I gained, and acting normal to you. But when I got to know you more, and when I'm risking losing you... I realized what a mistake that was. I don't like what Agatha did tonight, but she was right on one account. I should have snatched you to myself from our first roof exchange.".

He breathed, as if he's been itching to say this all along. When you first laid down, your head was above his. Now he loomed over you again, as well as his body, in a position that you could associate with a soft bed and your first night post-marriage.

Once he dipped down and kissed you, it was your turn to have an irregular heartbeat.

The world felt most beautiful when you two closed the distance between your bodies. They were like two pieces of a puzzle: Molded for each other. His hand slowly ran beyond your knee and on your thigh, the other behind your back. Your arms had to stretch to go around his wide shoulders, but it also you feel safe; He would protect you from anything, including the imposed fate you feared.

That same hand grew higher, and higher, but stopped right before your inner thigh. He broke apart to ask: "May I? I'll stop whenever you want to.".

You raised your leg, as if trying to get him closer: ".Yes..".

Was it just him, or was that more of a moan than a word? Could you even speak in this state? And why did you have to rile him up like this?

He kissed you again, his hand squeezing at the soft meat, then running over your hip. It's not that you were as sheltered as your parents would have liked, but this was your first time being touched like this. It was as if he was awakening nerves you didn't know existed. You didn't feel this sensitive when masturbating.

Getting tired of your thigh, he laced his fingers between your hip and your panties, before sliding them off. Even from there, he picked up on where most of the heat was coming from, and it wasn't your dress' fancy fabric.

He raised himself to lift your skirt up. There was your slit, coated in its own lubrication, and your legs shaking ever so slightly. He hadn't even started and you were already mewling and getting excited, your body already anticipating the orgasm. He couldn't help cooing.

"I can't wait until I make you cum."

You whined, tired of him making you wait, then wrapped an arm around him.

He ran his fingers up and down your vulva, coating them with your juices, before circling around your clit. The sensation made you squeal out. You heard it had thousands of nerves, but what was that?! It was not a cold night, but your entire body was shaking as if you were freezing.

"Ssshhh... We have to be discreet. Do you like this, sweetheart?".

"More... More, please!".

He was not expecting this vocality, but he wasn't complaining. He dipped down to leave little kisses on your collarbone and neck, while he played with your sensitive clitoris. He occasionally gave it a break, running his fingers in circles around your womanhood, flaring up whatever nerves he could find, before rubbing your nub again.

The lovely thing about neck kisses was that you could not avoid his husky-voiced whispers: "I bet he won't make you feel the way I do right now.".

His fingers slipped down to your hole, still circling around it before he would slip in.

"This lovely body and its tremors aren't his, are they?".

"N-no! I swear, they're not!".

He stopped touching you. Don't get him wrong, he loved you, but you were too cute writhing for him to not take advantage of it. He could not wait until he had you all to himself. He might even make you cry from all the pleasure he'd give you. Until then, he had to relish the limited moment he had.

"Sorry, my love, but you haven't convinced me.".

Once frigid and closed, your legs opened up even more: "Wriothesley, please!! You said it, he'll die before he even gets to see me naked, let alone touch me!".

"Oh? So you're trusting that I will take you?".

As he asked, he leaned in close, only a few inches away from kissing you. His hand was creeping back up where you wanted it.

"Yes... I'm yours, I've always been...".

His digits entered your hole. He didn't even have to look for the spot; a few rubs and you had to stop yourself from squealing. You could not stay quiet, not when you've never felt this, not when he was playing with every pleasurable nerve in your body. You were already clenching erratically around him. The more you did, the closer you were...

"Wait! Wait, I-!"

He kissed your neck again: "Let it out, baby.".

You couldn't help it. You screamed. At least you were far from your house, and it was a good type of scream. The type you felt he'd give you every night.

He helped you feel and ride out your entire orgasm, drawing out every bit of pleasure he could, while all you could do was moan out. Once you calmed down, he lowered his eyes to yours again.

"Are you alright?".

"That was amazing...".

"With the way you screamed, I sure hoped so.".

"Shut up.".

He laughed a bit, before kissing you again. This time, it was slower, softer. Tonight was eventful for both of you, after all. At some point, you two broke the kiss but remained in the same position. It was easy to hear his whisper when your foreheads were so close.

"If tomorrow doesn't work, I'll kill him before the ceremony.".

#a wolf and a snake #yandere wriothesley x reader #wriothesley x reader #yandere reader #genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin x reader #yandere fontaine x reader #genshin impact smut

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