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et6rnalsun · 3 months ago

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YOU GON’ MAKE ME FALL IN LOVE FOR A WHILE (WOULD YOU FUCK ME?)

is your best friend really your best friend or is it just a way to cover the sexual tension that drowns out your lost common sense? good question.

95% of the time matt wanted to give in to that burning temptation, the other 5% he just did it carelessly.

that five percent had manifested itself on a saturday night filled with boredom and complete dullness, nothing interesting or stimulating enough to completely turn the day around — except for chris animatedly yapping about his umpteenth failed talking stage of the month downstairs. you were lying on matt’s bed while he absentmindedly fixed his hair in the mirror, getting ready to go out after hours of begging him to do so.

on one hand, he was also desperately trying not to look in your direction. christ, you should realize on your own that you were in a position far too provocative for any human with an ounce of hormones. you were lying on your stomach, shirt slightly hiked up to reveal your soft skin, back arched enough to highlight your curves that he drooled over daily. he had to get a grip.

“please, go and try not to wear emo clothes,” you subtly teased, your cheek snugly pressed against the palm of your hand as you turned your body more to watch him get ready. he just rolled his eyes at that, the sassiness of it enough to make you chuckle. “i’m not emo. black jus’ suits me” he turned to meet your gaze just as he was putting on his chain, his head bowed slightly. “plus i thought you liked it?”

you scoffed, but a smirk still tugged at the corners of your mouth. “i do” you shrugged, your eyes trailing down his frame and the way the chain dangled down his neck — making him shiver at the mere gesture. as you watched and talked to him, you noticed his obvious struggle in putting the thing on, probably not being able to latch it. so you stood up, adjusting your shirt that was out of place after laying down in that way, before approaching him.

“you could ask for help” you positioned yourself behind him, raising yourself slightly on tiptoe to latch the chain.

he chuckled lightly at the fact that you immediately sensed his need, and turned to look at you. he tilted his head, raising an eyebrow. “alright, thanks,” he trailed, licking his lips. “you read my mind or somethin’?” you felt small under his gaze, and you crossed your arms instinctively, “it was simply a pitiful scene. anyone would’ve understood”

but his hands automatically rested on your arms seconds after your gesture, slowly unwrapping and bringing them up to move around his neck—his rings touching your skin made your stomach knot even tighter.

how the fuck were you supposed to react? you hugged each other often, yes, but this was too intimate to not miss a heartbeat or two. “are you tryin’ to suffocate yourself with my hands?” you tried to joke about it, easing the strange tension that was building between you.

matt was only fueling the tension, though. the fact that his hands had subsequently moved down your waist wasn’t helping; your bodies now close enough to touch, breaths mingling with each other. “you can try,” he replied, breathing a little too heavy as he took in your scent.

you rolled your eyes, trying not to meet his gaze. “looks like you want simple affection to me”

“maybe” but no, he didn’t. his touch felt too urgent to be something as simple as some friendly affection. you felt his hands squeezing your hips a little too tightly, fingertips digging into your skin little by little, desperate to feel you closer. and the heat of his body was strong enough to reveal his true state of mind. “it’s not weird for me to want it”

your arms wrapped around his neck more properly for a hug, letting your fingers sink lazily into his messy hair. “you’re right” you murmured lowly, letting him melt into you. you tried to ignore how his lips then trailed along your jaw to reach your neck, skin exposed by the position of your head, their softness sending little shivers down your spine. he had started leaving wet kisses, actions a little bolder after feeling how you tightened your grip on his locks, enough to make him let out a quiet hum against your throat. the sound made you head spin, your body responding to his touch before your mind could catch up.

"you feel so good," matt sighed, voice husky as his lips grazed your pulse. your own breathing was uneven now, your fingers threading through his hair as you let your head tilt further, offering him more—silent permission. his grip on your waist tightened slightly, and he let out a low chuckle, the sound vibrating against your skin. “is this okay?"

“not really, no” your back was now leaning against the wall of his room, and you felt too much of a prisoner in those actions that seemed simply wrong for someone who had been your bestfriend for so long.

he raised an eyebrow, pulling away from your neck with a small and wet pop—the sound of his mouth letting go of the patch of skin he’d sucked and bit to leave a mark. “no?” he was skeptical, not believing your words. “bet you’re so wet as you say this”

you pressed your legs together. “i’m not gettin’ wet for this little” you challenged subtly, trying to keep your breathy tone hidden. you were pretty sure that your panties were now stained from the desire he had made you feel in just a few minutes, and you could clearly feel it dripping in a sinful, haunting way.

he placed a hand on your leg, slowly running his fingers up to where your shorts ended, moving closer to your inner thigh. “i think i should touch to see if you’re lyin’ or not”

you beat him into the game, placing your hand over the bulge of his pants, the corners of your lips turning up in a smirk as you slowly tightened your grip. “well, you’re so hard” you hummed, watching as his face changed with his lip bitten so hard by his teeth you were sure you’d see blood soon. “so you can’t really talk about me bein’ wet”

“no shit” he breathed out, placing a hand over yours to move it slightly, groaning softly at the sensation. you followed the way he guided your hand, squeezing it ever so slightly as it strained against the fabric of his jeans, begging to come out. he then rested his forehead against your shoulder, moaning against it, moving his hips to feel more.

“you’re not goin’ to cum on me, are you?” you teased.

matt rolled his eyes, both in pleasure and annoyance. “you think i’m that pathetic?”

before you could nod at his words and answer positively to the question, chris's shrill voice reached your ears from downstairs; “move your ass! i’m hungry and i’m not gon wait for you to finish fuckin’”

you pulled away with a giggle, taking advantage of his almost weak state to push him aside and free yourself from the wall he had created with his body that blocked your way. “you heard him” you shrugged as if you were innocent — as if you weren’t leaving him with a dripping boner, a white stain ruining the front of his pants. by the time he turned to react to everything that happened in a matter of seconds, you already disappeared down the stairs.

“fuckfuckfuck” he cursed under his breath, looking down at the mess you made. he was only going to die only after he made you pay for it, he was sure of it.

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets x reader #fem reader #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo blurb #matthew sturniolo #matthew sturniolo x fem #matt sturniolo smut #suggestive #mdni #matt #sturniolos

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puppysuh · 27 days ago

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I need another part of nerd!haechan PLEASE my life literally depends on it.

and so the haechan brainrot continues… WHEN WILL THIS TORTURE END i can’t stop thinkinh about himmmmuuhhhhhghhghhgghhhhh ★ part 1

network(s) : @neocity-net

it was honestly just supposed to be a harmless prank. go to his apartment under the guise of a tutoring session, see how much of a gross virgin loser he was and report back to your friends until the rumour of his dick cheese spread around campus faster than a common cold.

ridicule him. gain more popularity for yourself whilst subsequently ruining his already nonexistent reputation. use him as a cheap joke, something to have a laugh at over a couple of iced lattes with the girls.

anything but this.

when your friends ask you how it went, you try to lie through your teeth. “nothing special,” you say, staring at the froth gathered on the top of your drink. “the guy has a boner for math questions and league of legends, not actual sex. totally a waste of time.”

and that’s where the conversation ends, with your friends thinking the two of you didn’t kiss, didn’t even fuck because either he was too chicken or you lost interest quickly.

they couldn’t have been more wrong.

you ended up sleeping at his that night. when you woke up in the morning, dressed in nothing but one of his comic con t-shirts, you felt regret at what you did, or moreover, what you failed to do. whilst you were under the impression that he was a good for nothing loser, haechan had rocked your world the night prior, and you’re less worried about what you’re going to tell your friends, you’re more worried about how you’re going to stop yourself from becoming completely addicted to him.

nerd!haechan is even sexier when he’s just woken up. his hair is a mess, glasses askew as he moves around his kitchen with the same nerdy grace he does everything else, fixing himself a bowl of cereal as if he hadn’t fucked you seven ways to heaven the evening prior.

“you gonna get yourself something to eat? i’ve got cereal— well, i’ve got lucky charms or oatmeal. oatmeal’s a hassle and lucky charms might be too—” you groan, and he stops in his tracks. “what?”

he finally turns to you, and you feel as though you could almost faint. how didn’t you think he was this attractive before? “me and you. last night. you almost killed me. aren’t we gonna talk about it?”

he smiles, and it isn’t a cocky smile, it’s a nervous one, and his eyes are glued to the floor. “we can… and we can also talk about the whole passion project thing too. you never actually wanted to fuck me, did you?”

your heart pangs in your chest. you feel bad, so you walk towards him slowly before placing your hands on his shoulders. “i did. sure, the girls thought it would be funny, but…” your palm slides to his cheek, and you lift his gaze away from the ground. “i thought you were cute. kinda like… a teddy bear.”

“a teddy bear?” you nod. “sorry i didn’t live up to your expectations.”

you laugh quietly, and he smiles again, this time with a little more confidence. “i’m glad you didn’t. and i definitely wouldn’t mind going again.”

“you wouldn’t?”

“not in the slightest.”

suddenly, all idea of breakfast is abandoned, his bowl of lucky charms discarded and replaced with you sitting on his counter, legs spread as he kneels between them with his tongue buried in your cunt. your fingers card through his hair, urging him to tongue fuck you deeper, to rub his thumb on your clit faster.

“you were— fuck— you were a virgin before all of this. where the fuck did you learn to eat so good?”

“mostly porn.” the way he answers you so bluntly has your thighs squeezing around his head, neck tipping back and head pressing against his cabinet. he barely takes another breath before diving right back in, fingers joining his tongue as he teases your g spot with perfect precision. “didn’t know it would actually work.”

and it’s the way he keeps looking up at you, as if to beg for your approval. but you can hardly praise him, instead filling his kitchen with repeated moans as you hump your pussy desperately against his tongue. “gonna cum, don’t stop—”

you can feel his sly grin on your clit before he finally pushes open the dam, juices spilling down his chin as you cum on his tongue shamelessly. all that can be heard is your voice, whines filling the kitchen, along with the wet sounds of him dragging his tongue up and down the length of your pussy, nails digging into your thighs with a grip that could only spell possession.

the worst part is; you could go again. you would let him fuck you again and again, on his fingers, his tongue, his cock, and you would never be satisfied, and this guy was a virgin less than 24 hours ago. when he lifts himself off of his knees to kiss you, there’s nothing you want more than to go again, and when you finally leave his apartment, dressed in yesterdays clothes and hair a mess, you pull out your phone and scroll down to the unsaved contact buried at the bottom of your list.

you : same time tomorrow, freak?

unknown number : same time tomorrow, sweetheart.

a/n : started this blog less than a month ago and all i can talk about is him. can say i wouldn’t change that for the world 🙂‍↕️

#★ puppysuh answers .ᐟ #★ neoposting .ᐟ #neocity-net #nct #nct haechan #nct haechan x reader #nct haechan smut #nct x reader #nct smut #nct 127 #nct 127 x reader #nct 127 smut #nct dream #nct dream x reader #nct dream smut #kpop #kpop x reader #kpop smut

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mydearestbeloved · 3 months ago

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Chapter 27 [Draft]

Sung Jinwoo/Trial Player!Reader

Content Warnings: This chapter contains Implied Yandere and slight gore—this is a work of fiction, I do not condone or glorify toxic relationships and violence in real life; experimental writings—a.k.a. me trying out a different style of being more descriptive and new p.o.v.s shifts.

See < End Note > for Bonus Contents, since I feel unhinged after writing this chapter. Might delete those bonus later? Depends.

[Masterlist🦋✨️]

Beru landed beside Igris with a faint thud, his wings folding neatly behind him. His antennae twitched; his gaze fixed on the peculiar scene unfolding ahead of them.

“Even my brethren do not deign to partake,” Beru intoned, his clawed hand sweeping toward the shadow ants. “Most unusual, for they oft descend upon such spoils without delay.”

Igris followed the direction of Beru’s gesture and noted the truth of it. The shadow ants, notorious for their ravenous appetites, remained in tight clusters, seemingly hesitant to approach the carnage. Other shadows, like the bears, also hovered at the periphery. Except for Tank, who was otherwise preoccupied with a particular albino young lady. He was making himself comfortable under a canopy, as to not disturb Blanche’s dozing off on his back, drowning herself in the thickness of his coat.

How exceedingly ironic, Beru mused, his multifaceted gaze fixed upon a ravenette as she wrenched a limb asunder with ease, offering half to her pale-haired kin—who, it seemed, struggled to sever her own share from the particularly stubborn carcass. They both then proceed to take a bite simultaneously with an audible crunch.

Is this, perchance, the sentiment humans harbor when they behold us feasting upon their brethren?

Beru’s mandibles clicked.

A most curious sensation, indeed.

“Who would have foreseen that the composed one harbored such… ferocity?”

Igris couldn’t help but agree, though he refrained from speaking it aloud, as they continued to watch Red skinned off and, subsequently, mutilated another carcass.

"Mhm,"

"KIEEEK—!"

By My Liege's—!

{“By My Liege’s will!”

—is what the full oath would’ve been, had Igris spoken aloud.}

"She's scary." Trick hugged herself, visibly shuddering.

“…When did you get here?" Igris hoped what was perceived on the butterfly’s end of the communication line wasn’t as clipped as he had realized his own voice would’ve sounded. Though outwardly composed, it was quite a bit shameful for a knight such as he to admit the slight tightening of his reflexes—the instinctive reach for his sword.

He had almost drawn his weapon at Lady (Name)'s beloved summon.

Though, to be fair, Trick did just… appeared out of thin air.

At the very least, Beru had fared no better. The ant had all but leapt away, wings flared, claws at the ready.

That fact alone granted Igris a measure of solace.

The mentioned silver-haired humanoid tilted her head innocently, “I’ve been here the whole time, though?"

Ah, yes, an illusionist.

Igris recalled Lady (Name)'s words—masters of deception, skilled in the art of trickery. He had merely not expected their craft to be potent enough to slip past his senses. Nor Beru’s.

Granted, the shadows soldiers had never before been the victims of the butterflies’ targeted hallucinations.

…Fortunate that we stand as allies.

No matter how battle-hungry one could be, Igris could not deny the headache these beings would pose as adversaries. And their mistress—even without My Liege’s evident fondness—would have proven a challenge herself alone.

“Speaking of...” Trick’s voice drew his attention as she turned her head and called over her shoulder. “Bestie!”

A blonde figure perked up from her crouched position a short distance away. Sol held a stick in one hand, its tip drawing crude lines in the damp earth. Around her, a small gathering of shadows and butterflies watched intently.

Igris squinted, realizing what Sol had been sketching. Iron, in particular, seemed pleased as he admired the drawing of himself. It wasn’t particularly skillful given the medium, but the exaggerated proportions made him appear larger and stand out more than the other shadow knights drawn into the mud.

"Lady of woe,” A single rose materialized on Trick’s outstretched hand, she brought it closer to plant a kiss. “Bids her halls,” The flower was then thrown, where it burst into a rain of red petals above. “A rosy banquet.” She bowed in curtsy, the extended fabric from behind her blown in the air from the exaggerated movement, momentarily showing the pattern of fluttering silver.

As she rose from the position, she gave a wink, “How's that for your next painting?”

Sol rolled her eyes in jest, giving a mock salute, but her smile bright. Trick bring a hand to her chest and made an expression as if she was hurt, but the subtle lift of her lips, if one would look just a little bit closer, would’ve told another story.

"Anyway," Trick turned back to Igris and Beru—who now had petals stuck all over their armor and exoskeleton respectively—yellow irises alight with something almost dreamy. “Isn’t my sister just the prettiest?!”

It was a well-known fact that the butterflies were far more...vibrant than the shadows—literally and figuratively. Yet even with that knowledge, Igris still found himself unprepared for the sheer whiplash of Trick’s one-eighty.

The stars in her eyes, clasping her hands together, and the swooning sigh were a stark contrast to mere moments ago, when he could practically hear the chills that ran down her spine.

“Did you not just claim she was frightening?” Beru asked, incredulous, every little movement he made causing petals to fly off.

“That’s exactly what makes her more beautiful!” Trick retorted, as if he just offended her.

Igris sighed internally.

Then again, ‘internally’ was the only thing he could achieve in regards to his current level-locked speech—

{Do we really need to remind him?

<<Yes>>}

Back to the situation at hand—

At that point, Igris had already begun tuning them out, letting their bickering fade as background white-noises as he plucked the petals off his armor, letting the reds fell down to the muddy purple-ish ground. His gaze had returned to the ballerina on stage.

The more he observed her, the more she reminded him of a particular kind of women he had only ever exchanged curt words with in his time as a human knight.

Sharp intellects, veiled beneath layers of practiced poise and intricately folded fans. Women who, in an era that condemned outbursts and demanded submission, wielded their wits often more so any man.

The way Red’s delicate fingers plucked a shard of flesh from the centaur-like corpse was not unlike the refined precision of slicing through a Mont Blanc at an olden tea party—silver knife and fork in hand, but otherwise the picture of grace.

And Igris could not help the thought that emerged then—those very same women could be as vicious as a knife to the back upon society’s stage. Ripping one another to shreds with honeyed words and carefully calculated maneuvers that would ruin rather than kill.

Whether one was complacent or bold, none were spared in the brutal games of favor, wealth, and power.

Igris knew that better than anyone.

“F-Father—"

Thump.

“…”

His gaze lingered, distant at times.

"She reminds me of the noblewomen of old..."

As he recalled how Red often followed Lady (Name) without fail—always at her beck and call.

With a contemplative hum, Igris continued his musing.

"Court ladies?"

Trick made a grand gesture with both hands of Igris for Beru to see—

Ding. Ding. Ding!

. . .

…Where did that sound even came from—

"See? He gets it!"

Ignoring one annoyed shadow ant, she turned toward Igris beaming, her voice brimming with pride. “You’re not far off the mark, Sir Knight! My sister was a duchess!”

… ‘was’?

“You should’ve seen her, Sir Knight!” Trick continued, practically vibrating with excitement. “She was such a riot! Even now—”

"Child. Fetch."

In an instant, Trick straightened, catching a tiny chunk of flesh casually thrown her way directly with her mouth. She bit into it immediately, her silver hair swaying lightly as her expression contorted into a disgruntled one a few chews in.

Igris could only stare, his judgment hidden behind his armored helm. Beside him, Beru clicked his mandibles in what Igris assumed was shared disbelief.

How... peculiar, this court of butterflies is.

——oOo——

Red approached the trio, uniform somehow remained as immaculate as ever. The white clean, the black and red mayhap hid any mess that might’ve been. Gracefully unhurried—as if she hadn't partaken in anything as taxing as a butchery in a rainy, muddy jungle.

"Well?" One brow was arched in pointed inquiry as her gaze settled on Trick.

"…Bitter." Trick swallowed with apparent difficulty before sticking her tongue out, as though the act would’ve contributed on getting rid of the horrid taste on her tastebud.

Red’s lips pressed into a thin line, and for a moment, Igris thought he heard her mutter under her breath, “At least she didn’t throw up.” Then, with a quiet sigh, she continued, “Didn’t you beg Mother to invest points into some < Devourer >’s skills for you?”

A picnic basket materialized in Red’s hand. She handed it to Trick.

"A < Devourer > can't afford to be picky." Red added, watching as Trick hesitantly took the basket.

When Trick lifted the lid, the scent of iron hit both Igris and Beru. The neatly packed cubes of raw meat inside were unmistakably from the magic beasts they had slain. Each piece was cut with surgical precision, their edges clean and uniform.

Trick wrinkled her nose, initially recoiling at the sight. But, as if she had a sudden light-bulb moment, her expression shifted. She turned around, scanning the area with renewed determination until her eyes landed on the sleeping duo under canopy.

“B—”

“Are you expecting her to cook for you right now?” Red interjected; her tone flat. “No.”

"Then–"

“Freeze it for later?” Red crossed her arms. “Sure, she could. Except the fact that it'll just be ordinary meat by then. The sooner you eat it, the more points you’ll gain. That’s the whole point of this exercise, isn’t it?”

"B-But—"

"Eat."

Trick’s shoulders slumped in defeat, and she complied, reluctantly picking up one of the cubes and placing it in her mouth. Her expression was dejected as she chewed, each bite taken with the exaggerated misery of someone enduring a punishment.

Chew.

“…”

Swallow.

“…hic.”

Red let out another sigh watching Trick’s display.

“…Have the garments been handed out?”

When Trick nodded pitifully in affirmative, Red plucked a cube of meat from the basket herself. The smell of burning wafted as the raw meat darkened and sizzled between her fingertips. Then, she brought it to the younger’s lips, and Trick took it gratefully.

"Better?"

Trick nodded vigorously as she chewed, her mood visibly improving. Red patted her head gently.

"Beru."

The shadow ant stiffened, mandibles clicking in surprise. He had not expected to be called. And yet, as her crimson gaze settled upon him, he swore—for reasons beyond his comprehension—that her eyes softened.

"Here."

Red snapped her fingers, and near Beru’s feet materialized several large stacks of... tupperware???

“We noticed the soldiers weren’t eating, so we took the liberty of saving some up for you all,” Red explained, gesturing toward the containers as she fed another carefully prepared morsel to Trick. “It’s only fair, considering most of the kills were yours.”

“We do not require—”

“I am well aware that shadows don’t require such sustenance,” Red cut in smoothly. “That eating is more habit than necessity. But we wanted to express our gratitude for the meal. It was also—technically—the first time some of us handled prep work. So please, it would make us very happy if you would accept our thanks.”

Beru hesitated before peering inside one of the containers. His antennae twitched as the scent of fresh meat drifted upward. True to her words, each was filled to the brim with neatly portioned flesh—cut into cubes, spheres, hearts, stars… even bunny-shaped pieces.

Igris, though remained silent, could not help but marvel too. When had the butterflies managed to harvest, prepare, and store all this without anyone noticing? A feat that bordered on the miraculous—or the terrifying, depending on one’s perspective.

Beru glanced from the containers to Red, then to Trick—who, upon feeling his stare, conspicuously turned away, still chewing.

After a pause, he straightened. “…On behalf of the shadows, I thank you, Madame.”

Red tilted her head but did not seem displeased. A faint smile ghosted her lips.

“Please send our regards to the others.”

She nodded once in acknowledgment.

Beru then turned his gaze toward Trick. “And you as well. Thank you.”

“…Hmph.”

Red shoved feed another cooked piece into Trick’s mouth with the same gentle care—ensuring that Trick didn’t start sulking again.

And so, Igris continued to observe. The way Red treated Trick and Beru—like children under her care.

It is… oddly endearing.

——oOo——

As the last vestiges of flesh disappeared into eager mouths, loose fabrics flowed like waterfalls. When the dark warriors merged back with their master of shadows, white tunics danced like packs of swans with the reemergence of kaleidoscope flights from behind. Thus, your newborns, ready to be greeted in your gardens—their home, joined their origins in kind and disappeared from the skies in dust of gold. Left in their wake, stark and gleaming, alabaster-white under the relentless rain—terrain of eerie beauty stripped bare of chaos.

"So..." Jinwoo cleared his throat, brushing rain-slicked hair from his forehead as the bags of essence stones disappeared into his inventory. "Is this something I should expect after every raid?”

He meant to say it in jest, an attempt to break the ice fell short when the beat of silence stretched, before you turned to him, your expression soft but distant, as though part of you was somewhere else.

“Sorry,” A fleeting gold, like light rippling through water. “Could you repeat that?”

Jinwoo’s gaze flickered briefly to the battlefield before back to meeting yours.

"...That," He jabbed his thumb toward the clearing behind—or rather, to what had taken place there just moments ago—with a faint smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Do I need to get used to that?”

“You don’t have to,” You replied softly, gaze drifting to the desolate expanse. But then, in a blink, as if only just now waking from a dream, your brows knitted, a look more concerned for him than the situation. Meeting gazes again, a thread of worry weaved your voice. “Does it bother you? I can—”

“Wait, slow down.” Jinwoo interjected quickly, raising a hand before you could go down the rabbit hole of drastic measures—only you could come up with—if you thought he was truly disturbed. Measures you would follow to a T, no matter the inconvenience. He knew you well enough by now to guess, and the last thing he wanted was for you to overthink this. “It’s just… new. Need a little time to adjust, sure—”

He'd long been desensitized to the horrors of this world. Keeping up with you had kept him on his toes more often of course, but who wouldn’t be at least a little shocked when those pretty little things displayed a primal side so openly that might’ve rivaled his shadows?

Systematic, elegant, and utterly ruthless.

Struggling to reconcile it with the image one had grown accustomed to—

You studied him for a moment, a quiet hum leaving your lips. “If it makes you uncomfortable, they don’t have to do it. They don’t need blood or flesh to function as usual, but… it’s more beneficial now.”

“How so?”

—and curiosity just won over in the end.

Your tone shifted to something more matter-of-fact. “For the younger ones, besides the extra exp to level them up, the bonus energy gained can make them more effective, stay active longer. As supports, you know the drill, but in terms of gathering information? They can further interact with people directly without being as quickly exhausted independent of me.”

Huh.

That’s useful.

Very useful.

As unsettling as the image of butterflies devouring raw flesh was, and the sight of human body made from the inside, the utility might be worth the goosebumps.

Other inappropriate uses aside—as far as his own shadows went, they were invaluable for protection and surveillance. But they weren’t equipped for subtle interactions. They couldn’t question people or coax out information—not in the way your butterflies apparently capable of at least.

As much as Beru’s value went, Jinwoo doubted anyone would open up willingly to a towering, insectoid figure interrogating them unless stated otherwise, or to any shadow soldiers for that matter, whether they could speak or not. Informed targets might not be ideal at times.

Fear was still a viable option, but he would rather not have his kids terrorize innocents.

Your butterflies, on the other hand, would definitely be more practical in extracting information if they could disguise themselves and blend seamlessly into society.

As for acting with autonomy—Jinwoo thought back to that time in the snow-land red gate and let a smirk tugged at his lips.

They’re persuasive alright.

They seemed freer also in the sense that they weren’t bound to other objects to move, with few exceptions but definitely still less than shadows were to his soldiers.

Imagine the possibilities.

Jinwoo was almost jealous.

All in all, his shadows were the perfect battle weapons, warriors, and guards. Yours? The perfect supports, spies, even informants.

How much more of a perfect complement could this be?

Speaking of...

Jinwoo’s gaze drift to you. His lips pressed into a thin line.

Should he ask you?

Should he attach a soldier to you?

Ah, so you don’t trust her after all.

The voice was insidious and sharp—like his daggers.

The pang in his chest was immediate and heavy—guilt?

I do, the heart argued, vehement.

It’s for her—

For her or for you?

Mocking.

Does she really need you to keep her safe?

Taunting.

You barely know who she is.

Then I’ll keep learning, to get to know her, properly.

Is that not just another excuse to keep her close then?

Ah.

All this time, still just scratching the surface—

He went through this before.

I want to know her (everything).

Silence.

"That's... convenient."

Really?

Jinwoo winced internally.

Was that all he can say? Couldn’t he come up with a proper compliment? Even saying something along the lines of the lame-old “cool” would be better at this point!

Why was he such a mess in front of the one person he wanted to—

“Thank you.”

Oh.

Damnit.

Damn you, for how tender you looked at that moment, standing just within his reach.

Damn you, for those knowing and fond eyes, staring back at him.

Damn you, for how soft your lips looked in that smile, directed at him.

Fingers twitched on his sides.

Damn him, for craving you to look at him (always).

“Take the < Illusionists > for example.”

You lifted your hand to his view, fingers curled, holding something out of sight, “Not only do they gain more knowledge to reach perfect mimicry…”

A single cherry blossom unfurled in your palm.

“…the duration of their skills also lasts much longer.”

Before Jinwoo could process, you exhaled softly.

He was then bombarded with multiple blossoms, straight to his face.

“Pfft.” You stifled a laugh behind your hand at his widened eyes and slightly parted lips. What made the sight sillier in your eyes was the silver butterfly perched on his cheek, chiming—

“Good day, Sir. Goodbye, Sir. Have a pleasant day!”

—before going poof!

Jinwoo didn’t move.

On instinct, his mana flared—to sense, to analyze—but there was nothing. He couldn’t detect the signature presence illusions carried, the usual flicker of magic that would have clued him in under normal circumstances.

No.

For a second there, he absolutely couldn’t sense you, even though his gaze never left yours.

And that—that was definitely not < Stealth >.

“The < Devourers > and < Conversion-ists> are more straightforward.”

You continued, as if you hadn’t just—

“To sum it up, the < Devourers > gain more physical bonuses—strength, durability, and such. While the < Conversion-ists > receive more ‘recipes,’ essentially.”

Jinwoo swallowed. His hand twitched.

“Jinwoo?”

You reached out, fingers hovering near his cheek but hesitated at the very last second, merely a hair’s breadth away before your fingertips could graze his damp skin, when you saw how empty his gaze had become behind dripping raven bangs.

“I can’t…”

His grip caught your wrist before you could retreat.

You neither flinched nor pulled away.

“You just—!”

Vanished.

Like a g̴l̷i̶t̴c̸h̴.̵

Jinwoo’s jaw tightened.

His eyes—

They reminded you of the last few chapters of the manhwa. Building up his decision to bear the fate of the whole world on his shoulders, alone. The way Normal Selner had looked at him, realizing he had already succeeded. How the illustration depicted his irises as pitch black, swallowing all light with naught a trace.

Oh, please don’t make that face.

"Jinwoo…" You gently brought his hand—the one gripping yours so tightly you felt the joints shifting under—and his other hand to your cheeks.

"See?" You closed your eyes, pressing your face against his touch.

Yeah.

Jinwoo exhaled, slow, unsteady.

Then—he leaned in.

Your presence—you—against his palms.

Right here. You’re right here.

Until his forehead could touch yours.

And so, so warm.

——oOo——

{In illustrations, we could take creative liberties to depict our reality.}

{Whether it’s creating multiple aspects out of proportions openly or changing just a single, subtle enough detail, one reason is to clue us in on the meaning behind it.}

{So, I’m curious…}

{If I described the moment Jinwoo leaned in, the moment light returned to his eyes at your touch, your warmth—

The black in his eyes rippled.

Like ink washing away, the pitch dark gave way to stormy grey. Then lighter. Until—

Against the glowing hue of blue, at the very center of it all—

(you)

If you simply knew, if you simply saw how that light reflected, unmistakable in its shape.

A heart…}

{How would you react, ‘Trial Player’? ~}

——oOo——

“What were you thinking about earlier?”

“Hm?” You blinked at him.”

“When I first asked about the < Feast >,” Jinwoo clarified. “You seemed… distracted.”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” You paused, gaze dropping. “Just…”

“Just?” He pressed gently.

“I can feel it,” Your voice was barely a whisper as your hand rose to your chest, resting over your heart.

“How happy they are.”

“‘They’?” Jinwoo asked, though he already suspected the answer.

"My children,” Your gaze met his then, and something in your expression shifted. The edges of your eyes softened, your expression so tender, so genuine, it took his breath away again. “Eating makes them happy."

“I’m happy for them,” you added simply, smiling so radiantly—

—so disarmingly, it almost made him forget the reality of your words.

Jinwoo found himself staring, wondering how someone could look so utterly beautiful in such unsettling context. Spoken of something so—objectively—disturbing with the way of tone so warmth, so truthful, so serene, that made it feel natural, made it feel... right.

And yet, he couldn’t look away.

And yet, he didn’t feel repulsed.

And yet… he was the one who felt strangely electrified—

No.

—Jinwoo was thrilled.

The hum of the gate beckoned, a low, resonant vibration that pulled you both back to the present.

It was time to leave.

End Note:

Unedited Draft of [28/02/2025]

Double update? Double update. 😉

Thank you @eternadreeblissa for providing this chapter's surprise illustration! The version I put here is cropped a bit to bring out more focus on the eyes. I'll provide the full-version + the alternate versions ('cause all of them are too good to pass up) in this chapter's reblog here! 🙏🥹❤️

How do we feel about breaking-the-4th-wall segments, Everyone? Yea or Nay? 🤔

Beru, I love you, but your pattern of speech is killing me. 😭

Igris, you're a good boy. I'm sorry I'm making you that-one-tired-roommate-of-Beru's-before-Bellion-arrived. I'm also sorry if me bringing up your past—which I also took some creative liberties on in writing—dug up any past trauma for you. 🙏🥹

Trick is dramatic, theatrical, and fangirl all-in- one. Low-key female & human-but-also-not-so version of Beru? Hmm, maybe. Hopefully, I can make her distinct enough from Beru so their kinda love-hate dynamic that I'm aiming for won't be boring. 🫡

Guess which < Children of 'Trial Player' > took after (Name)'s motherly nature the most? That's right, Red. I guess not much surprise there? She's that-one-older-sister-who-mothered but is still her mother's daughter. 🥹❤️

On crack, JinwooxReader in this chapter is basically these:

{ —1—

Jinwoo: *Making up his mind about something-something deep related to (Name)*

(Name): *Making Jinwoo question absolutely everthing about his decision just a few seconds later*

(And this won't be the last time this happen.) }

{ —2—

(Name): *Starting to openly show her dark side, still just the tip of the iceberg*

Jinwoo: "I feel scared, but that's hot."

These two are going to get more and more fucked up the further we go down this AU. Jinwoo is still in the process of falling, while (Name) is already further ahead than him in that void, she just hid it very well. Funny thing about this is part of their dynamics in the future that I'm aiming for (for now, future subject to change) being like this:

Wife!(Name): "This Jinwoo is my eldritch yandere husband and I LOVE him. I won't change him for any version of him and I'm the only who can handle this him in the multiverse." (and she can, this is not a drill, the Rulers and the World Tree bear witness, she's saying this matter-of-fact and with well-hidden yandere-ish.)

Husband!(Jinwoo): "(Name) is my wife, my only one in the multiverse, and I will tear everything apart if she's taken as much as a step away from me. Don't even try. Can she still scare me? Yes. But she's the only one who can while also makes me horny 'cause it's her, my goddess, and I'm her first and only."

TP AU!Suho: "I love them, won't exchange them for any multiverse version of 'my' parents. But mine are definitely too fucked up."

(Wait until it's your turn, boy. You might be the same or worse than them)

TP AU!Suho: "...Heh?"

(Somewhere in the abyss of my very very ancient drafts, forgotten until I feel like digging them up:

Guide!Reader: *Safe and sound until—* "Achoo!")

TP AU!Suho's younger sister (placeholder name for now): "Hmm? I love my family🦋💀."

TP AU!Cha Hae-in: "Yup, this is my reality alright. As long as my bestie is here, everything will be fine. Kudos to my other versions that married their versions of my second dearest friend Jin and have their versions of my dear nephew as their child tho. Still won't change mine for anything, my number one ship have sailed and I'm not going anywhere as long as they're here."

The ¿System?: *Chilling with the butterflies🦋 and shadows💀 somewhere* 😎🍹 }

That's all, folks!

Feedbacks are very much appreciated. Thank you for reading. 🙏💕

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nineteenninety-six · 2 months ago

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── ⟢ ・⸝⸝ Across the Kitchen Table

Pairing: Michael Robinavitch x wife!Reader

AN: Idk why I'm always making Robby suffer some sort of angst whenever I write for him.

WC: 1.05k

Warnings: divorce. mentions of covid and death (Adamson's)

Synopsis: You and Robby come to the same realisation of their marriage.

Your sniffles filled the room, only accompanied by the clock ticking in the background. Your gaze flickered everywhere, lingering on the toys left behind your children. You looked everywhere but Michael's face because you know what you'll see.

Michael's eyes would be rimmed red from crying, his hair disheveled from all the times he had run his hands through it and his face would be set in a frown. A frown that told you he had come to the same conclusion you had.

Your marriage, your relationship is over.

It was inevitable, years in the making and something you had tried preparing yourself for but no amount of preparation could help you in this moment.

Your gaze finally lands back on Michael and your eyes burn as tears begin to spill and you try your hardest to stop them and wipe your cheeks dry but the wave of tears is unrelenting and you crumble into a puddle of tears once again that night.

Michael nudges the box of tissues closer to you from across the table and you murmur a 'thank you' as you grab a couple, drying your cheeks and wiping your nose.

The small action makes you want to speak up and suggest another attempt to fix the relationship but what else could you try that you hadn't before? You were in therapy, both individual and couple. You went on a trip without the kids in hope that you could rekindle the spark you once had. You were currently even separated, Michael living out of a suitcase in Abbot's spare room but nothing changed, your marriage was over.

You couldn't say when exactly the first crack in your relationship occurred. Possibly COVID, possibly before that but it became unnoticed in the chaos of early COVID. You were both doctors, it was how you met but when the pandemic struck you were in the last months of your pregnancy with your youngest and therefore too high risk to work at the hospital so you stayed at home whilst Michael worked on the frontlines, away from what he loved the most.

He would never tell you but you knew it killed him not to be there for the birth of your son and then subsequently missing the first few months of his life. He only got to see his family through Facetime, pictures and windows and he lived in Abbot's spare room until it was deemed safe enough for him to return to his family and his house.

Michael was spiraling from everything. work, family, life.. it was all too much for him until the final nail in the coffin struck. Adamson dies. Michael's mentor died, leaving him utterly alone in that pandemic hell-hole and that changed him forever. It changed everyone forever.

You currently still love Michael. You don't think you'll ever stop loving Michael, not after the almost fifteen years you had been together and the two children the two of you shared. You would be in each other's lives forever and neither of you wanted to end this in a bitter dispute that affected your children most of all.

Michael clears his throat, pulling your eyes to him and he reaches across the table to take your hands into his, your fingers intertwining automatically, a natural instinct after years together.

"... I'm sorry" Michael's words are quiet but they feel tortuously loud in your ears.

You squeeze your eyes shut to stop the tears, your nose twitching as it stings in pain.

"I don't want this to happen" You admit, "I tried so hard to fix us."

"I know you did. You are the best person I know, the kindest, most loving and caring person whose presence has only been a blessing in my life." Michael's words are dripping in admiration and love, "You brought two of the most precious people in my life into the world and I will always respect and care for you."

"What will we tell them? "You sniffle.

"We tell them the truth-in a way that they will understand." Michael gently explains.

"They're so little" You pout, “I don't want to scare them."

"You won't-we won't. They are smarter than what we give them credit for." Michael shifts from his seat on the other side of the table to join you on your side, settling next to you. "I left the house almost a year ago, they're used to me not being here. I'll find a place close by, I'll still be close by for them and when they're older then they can choose whose house they want to go after school each day."

You laugh at Michael's little joke, "They'll be stuck at yours, you were always the better cook."

Michael winks at you, "I'll make sure they take the leftovers to you."

A weight is lifted off of shoulders, you didn't honestly think that Michael would move away and only see the kids twice a year but the stress of the divorce prompted all sorts of anxious thoughts.

"I'm scared" You admit, "I'm used to you always being there for me, always being by my side - figuratively and literally. You were my rock Mikey"

"I still am. I'II always be your rock. That won't change, I promise you that."

You let out a wet scoff, "How pathetic am I, a woman still leaning on her ex-husband for support."

"We didn't fall out of love" Robby reminds her, "I don't think I could ever stop having you in my life, kids or no kids."

You silently nod, overwhelmed by the sheer amount of emotions you were currently experiencing. You wanted to call everything off and curl into Michael's arms but deep down you knew that this was just the height of the moment emotions and that you had tried countlessly over the past four years to fix your relationship but it had resulted in nothing. You wished that this wasn't the way your relationship ended but compared to the days where you and Michael were barely talking and when you did it always ended up in a screaming match, ending on positive talking terms was the best you could ever hope for.

You turn to Michael, "Thank you for everything."

Michael pulls you into a hug, pressing a kiss to your hair line, "Thank you for everything."

#dr robby x reader #michael robinavitch x reader #robby x reader #dr robinavitch x reader #the pitt imagine #the pitt x reader #the pitt #dr robby #dr robinavitch #michael robinavitch

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theinfinitedivides · 2 years ago

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'it did not go well. do not worry. i have spoken to him so he will understand—' 'so he will understand?' *laughs* 'incredible. i'm talking about you.' *pauses* 'wae? are you going to get someone to beat me up for talking down to a noblewoman like you? as usual you only think of yourself and your own pride. did you even think to care about how much pain Lee Jang Hyun is feeling? i hate that he is sad because of a woman like you. it drives me crazy that he is hurting because of a woman like you. if i were you, if i had even one sliver of Jang Hyun's heart... if that was the case...' 'why... why are you saying this?' 'you do not deserve him. you do not deserve to either receive his love or be ignored by him. you do not deserve any part of him.'

#tv: my dearest #my dearest #mbc my dearest #namgoong min #nam goong min #ahn eun jin #kim yoon woo #kdrama #local gay watches My Dearest (and is subsequently f*cked up).txt #local gay watches k-dramas.txt #*inhales* *exhales* *screeches*#tell me you came out to give the middle finger to your boyfriend's girlfriend without telling me you came out to do exactly that #my brother in Christ you went a bit off the rails there at the end but you had to get that sh*t off your chest. i get it bc seeing #Jang Hyun walk out of your performance to go chase after her was the straw that broke the camel's back he let that sh*t loose #'if i were you' that's the one that laid me out. if i was born a woman. if he could look at me the way he looks at you. sh*t f*ck #hell you haven't put me through enough already for you to put this on top of me now #if this serves as Gil Chae's wakeup call to stop f*cking around and sort sh*t out with Jang Hyun tho........ for them it would have been #productive for him it's only going downhill from here bby let me get you the painkillers #f*ck it i need the painkillers if i'm going to write the fic that fixes the ChaeRyang dynamic if the screenwriter doesn't in the eps #that we have left this is f*cking with me

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kinardsevan · 4 months ago

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i've kinda kept my mouth shut (outside of the group chat, that is) on Buck's attitude and behavior in 809 on purpose. as a neurodivergent who has certain opinions in the face of Buck and Eddie's relationship that others have already pointed out (Buck's unending loyalty and willing to give while Eddie continues to take without thanks), there's something to be said about having abandonment issues and complex trauma that is being compounded all at once without any reprieve. so i'm gonna spell some shit out.

let's start right at 801, when we literally started the season with Buck running to the roof of the firehouse and his coworkers friends telling him not to jump, but also compounding that statement not with "because we care about you" but instead "because we'd have to clean you off the sidewalk". there's been discussion in the fandom before about Evan's passive suicidality and all that plays into that, but it's an important launching point for where we're at now, as far as I'm concerned.

then you get into the meat of the season. it's never exactly easy for him: first there's Gerrard and the complications of that relationship, then there's the issues of the boils/his health, then the breakup. then we waltz right into Eddie announcing he's leaving town to go be with his son, and suddenly we're arriving at a point in time that, in terms of "time" on the show, is probably only about a yearish out from him surviving being struck by lightning. that's also a major trauma to deal with, that we didn't really ever see fully resolved, and now we're about to add the kidnapping of his sister (and the possibility, however remote, that she miscarries due to her kidnapping? this has just been suggested in the group chat, but anything is possible).

i've seen the commentary that he needs to get over himself, that he was selfish for what he did to Eddie, that he needs therapy, etc. but here's the thing:

you can do decades of therapy and still be emotionally dysregulated in times of heightened stress. let's also add that in the midst of everything that was changing in Evan's life over the past year(ish), his one constant that he could rely on, was the relationship he was in. it was a relationship that--as many have pointed out--was the first time he was put first, was treated as though his feelings mattered, and he (as I assume we'll see come to pass canonically) likely felt seen. Tommy didn't pander to him, but he also didn't shut Evan's feelings down. I imagine in the face of dealing with Gerrard, his disloated shoulder (and the boils), Bobby's NDE and subsequent shift from being in charge the 118, Tommy was a stabilizing force for him. he got to go home and have someone who cared to hear about his ails.

so here we are months later, when all of his friends are back on even ground from the shit they all were going through previously (which he showed up for each and every one of them with, by the way), and he's sinking. he's struggling against the current of loss, after loss, after loss. and i'm sure somewhere in there (as someone who hsa gone to therapy), that for a while, he told himself to just go parallel to the current, and eventually he'd make it out. but I think we're also seeing at this point that he's caught up in a riptide. we know he's not doing okay losing Tommy ("I don't feel anywhere near recovered"/"I almost relapsed, I almost called Tommy"/"don't go leaving your people, you don't know how hard it is for them without you"), and now his best friend (who he's bent over backwards for many times in the last seven years, even in the face of being told he's exhausting and selfish) is leaving town. something that's baffling to me in the midst of Eddie's choice to leave too, is this: it's supposed to be a noble choice. he's supposed to be after this big pursuit to fix things with Chris and be a part of his life, and all that comes with that. I can understand not mentioning anything until he'd secured a place to live, however, once he had....why wasn't there a talk with Bobby, at the very least? why keep the secret of "i'm still figuring out how to leave here". wouldn't by the very nature of the fact that you're planning to leave and not return, you want to make that transition as smooth as possible??? wouldn't it make more sense to clue your friends in that you need a subletter, that your job will be vacant soon and your team is going to need someone to step in and fill that slot? it's not like these people are going to call down to El Paso and tell your family that you're on your way. and ALL of this is long before we get into the discussion of how he tells potential subletters that he has no ties to LA and that the real opportunities are in Texas. sure, we can continue to make the argument that Eddie didn't know Evan could hear what he was saying, and that he likely was only thinking of the future move at the time....

but also, as someone who can relate to the RSD, to the complex trauma and abandonment issues...it's NOT about that. Evan's reaction to Eddie's statement makes total sense to me because time and time again, I have voiced a need that sometimes, in the depths of feeling like I'm drowning in the deep waters, all I've ever wanted (and all I can assume Evan wants), is a little fucking recognition. he's not asking for Eddie to stay, and he states as much. he's not even asking for his people to put him first. all he's asking for is for his pain to be seen and recognized. to feel as though the people he loves, who bends over backwards to keep happy and from leaving, recognize when he's in pain. and yet.

it's why i have such a strong belief about where this story is going in terms of his mental health. you can only continue to lose, lose, lose so much, and sink under the weight of all of that before something breaks. and we can have arguments about how he needs more therapy, or how he needs to grow up, or this and that... but at the end of the day, you can do all of those things and still end up in the position he is. I made the argumentt to the group chat the other night that even under the contention that I'm likely more emotionally mature than Buck is, I'd still (and in fact have) reacted in similar ways to how he did. it's very easy to sit back and point fingers until you're faced with the same situation and all you're looking for is a little support, and everyone keeps shutting you down.

it's why my bucketlist hopes for the rest of the season see him going to the lengths of choosing selfishness if when he and Tommy get back together. it's that same vein that has me wanting to see a parallel to Maddie's s4 ending for him with his mental health, except I want Tommy telling him that they'll figure it out together. I want him finally getting to have someone in his corner when all the chips are down. obviously time will only tell if we get that, but we'll see.

#evan buckley #911 discourse #mental health #911 s8 #bucktommy #eddie diaz #buck x eddie #911 spoilers #kinda

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nebulaafterdark · 3 months ago

Text

Exile (Part 6)

Summary: Y/N Undersee thought the games were over after becoming a victor. Unfortunately, life outside the arena has become just as dangerous. Prequel to Moves & Countermoves

Trigger warning: forced prostitution, explicit sexual content, alcohol abuse and other mentions of trauma. 18+ ONLY

SotR SPOILERS

Part 5

“Y/N’s become too Capitol for the districts, she’s losing her pull there.” Anyone with eyes can see that’s been Snow’s plan all along. Sever her ties with the people.

“How do we fix that?” Haymitch wonders.

“We don’t,” Plutarch decides. “We let her play her hand and wait.”

“How long?” How many recordings? How many tributes? How many of her tears will waiting cost?

Plutarch lifts a shoulder. “Your guess is as good as mine. But when the time comes, she’s our in with the Capitol.”

This news does subsequently nothing to make Haymitch feel better. If anything he feels worse. Downing the rest of Plutarch’s prized liquor bottle before returning to the tribute center. They won’t be provided passage home until the games are over.

The penthouse is quiet now, without Maximus and Denali. Y/N can’t cry anymore about it, not now. She’s had one too many glasses of champagne. Making quick work of the buttons on Haymitch’s shirt, as the door of their suite closes behind them.

Alcohol is nice, drugs are better, but nothing brings the temporary tidal wave of euphoria like Haymitch. His mouth pressed to hers, reducing her brain to mush.

Haymitch rests his hand over hers. “You ok?”

“Not really,” Y/N admits. “Need something to take the edge off.”

“I can get you-”

“You,” she breathes, “I just want you.”

Haymitch tightens his hold on her. I want you too. More than I want to want anything.

Her dress joins his shirt and then his pants, until they’re laid bare. Not district, nor Capitol. Perhaps because they are meant to be neither; they belong to each other.

Nothing exists outside of the gentle rocking of his hips. Nothing to do but breathe him in.

Y/N’s fingers tangle in his hair, drawing him closer.

————————————————————————

They aren’t made to stay past the announcement of Cashmere’s victory. The tribute’s caskets are loaded onto the train and they’re off to twelve.

“Do they have family?” Haymitch asks.

“No.”

“Not even extended? No aunts or uncles?”

“I don’t know, Haymitch.” Y/N sighs. “They’d been going it alone all their lives, if they had someone, I’m sure they would’ve been there.”

Haymitch nods.

“I can ask Cherry and Tucker if they have room.” Tyson’s parents have a little cemetery outback, couldn’t bear to be parted from their son. A few others from the seam take up residence in the spaces beside him now.

Again he nods, before tipping his empty glass upside down and rising to his feet. “I’ll be in the bar car if you need me.”

Y/N lowers her gaze, waiting until the door slides closed behind him to stand. She is headed elsewhere, to the car where two coffins rest, side by side. Collapsing to her knees in the small space between them and resting a hand over each.

Her gut tells her that under her right palm lies Denali, the spitfire of a girl who showed up the careers. And beneath her right is the little boy who clung to her in the elevator. Maximus. But Y/N has not the want nor will to push back the lids and prove her theory.

She remains there, holding vigil until her legs ache. Shifting position enough to lie down and cry herself to sleep.

Once he’s nice and wasted Haymitch stumbles down to the train car farthest from their sleeping quarters. The sight of Y/N’s feet poking out from between the caskets is an unwelcome reminder that this is standard practice for her.

He crouches down, giving her leg a little shake.

“Haymitch?” Y/N lets out a sleepy sigh.

“Come to bed, angel.”

“I don’t wanna leave them.”

“I know,” Haymitch breathes.

“You can go, it’s ok.” She won’t be alone.

“I’ll stay,” though the notion is still foreign to him.

————————————————————————

Y/N’s first stop after departing the train station is the Carrell’s front door. Her district partner, Tyson, had taken care to list off each of his siblings favorite snacks, then his Ma and Pa. Y/N takes equal care to make sure she never comes to them empty handed.

His parents, Cherry and Tucker, embrace her with open arms. Growing together through their collective loss.

Today is different. His siblings are sent to their rooms and Y/N finds herself strapped to the dining room chair.

“What are you doing?” She laughs. Surely this is a joke of some sort.

“What are you doing?” Tyson’s father bites out.

“I brought you cinnamon rolls.” Y/N stammers, “you don’t like them anymore?”

“Don’t do that.” Cherry snaps.

“Do what?” Y/N is starting to panic now, struggling at the rope binding her hands behind her back.

“Act like you’re the same. Nothin’ about you is the same.” The woman says. “You stopped goin’ to the hob, stopped comin’ to see us. Married a man who wouldn’t spit on you if you were on fire, started chummin’ it up with those freaks in the Capitol.”

Tucker shakes his head.

“Uh, uh, not my girl.” Cherry presses on, “I started askin’ around, tryin’ to make sense of what I was seein’. Turns out, somethin’ like this happened before. With the McCoy’s girl.”

“What are you-”

“They took that baby for the games, but she didn’t make it that far. Those animals did somethin’ to her, replaced her with somebody who had a bug in her ear. Didn’t fool her parents none.”

“Like a body double?” Y/N asks.

“The Callow boy died a while before she did and didn’t smell half as foul when he got home.” Tucker recounts.

“I don’t understand.”

“She was long gone before anybody knew and that was over a decade ago.” Cherry murmurs, “imagine how good they coulda got at passin’ people off for somebody else in fourteen years.”

“You think I’m someone else?” Y/N frowns, “a body double from the Capitol?”

“Maybe not a double, maybe they did somethin’ to you.”

“Nothing like you think.” Y/N assures them.

“I love you like my own, so I’m only gonna ask you once.” Tucker drawls, “did they put something in your head?”

“No,” Y/N shakes her head. “If you have questions about what happened to the girl in the Capitol during the Quarter Quell, Haymitch might know.”

“I don’t trust Haymitch any further than I can throw him,” Tucker runs a hand over his grief stricken face. “And right now I’m not even sure I can trust you.”

“Please don’t say that.”

“Then tell us what happened. And it better make a hell of a lot more sense than what you’ve been saying, little girl.”

Y/N pauses, collecting herself. “Snow was going to sell me to the highest bidder. Haymitch made him a deal.”

“Why would President Snow give a damn if you married him or not?” It doesn’t make any sense.

Y/N tells her. “A victor has never married a victor before, the curiosity was there. Snow just took advantage of it, he recorded us together and sold that instead. Threatened my family, if I didn’t perform, I’m willing to bet that includes you too… So I performed.”

The room is silent.

��It’s up to you, believe me or don’t. I came here to make sure you were ok and to ask if I could bury my kids in your backyard.” No secret Capitol agenda.

“Tell us something only you would know.” Tyson’s father demands, wanting to believe her but needing to be sure.

“The first flower I left for Tyson was a dandelion. When it died, I replaced it with a daisy, and a bluebell after that.”

This is Y/N, as best they’ll ever be able to tell.

“Should I keep going?”

Cherry cuts the rope around Y/N’s wrists. “Why do you want to bury them here?”

“They didn’t have a family before, I thought it might be nice for them to have one now.” Y/N massages the blood back into her hands.

Tyson’s mother joins his father, in front of the younger woman. “Sorry about all that.”

“It’s fine.” Y/N sighs, “no one has ever gone to the trouble of tying me up for an intervention before. You guys must really love me.”

“You do what you gotta, from now on Ma and Pa are with you.” You’re the closest thing we’ve got to our boy.

Y/N thanks them, allowing them to hold her for as long as it suits them. The same way she always has.

Eventually she finds her way back home, back to Haymitch and the house in Victor’s Village. He’s the only one who understands her now.

“What’d they say about the kids?” Haymitch wonders.

“They said yes.”

“You were gone a while.”

“They tied me to a chair for interrogation.” Y/N tells him.

What in the hell? “You wanna talk about it?”

“Yeah, actually. They thought I was a Capitol body double or that I had a bug in my head.”

Oh.

Part 7

Taglist: @spideysimpossiblegirl @ancientbeing10 @1-800-styles @l3xi3luv @lam-ila @druby2011-blog @liballer @readinginthe-am @rae-11 @champomiel @mariechristine00 @solacestyles @inky-sun @dadbodfanatic-x @sandorcleganeslutt @indigoashh @mustainelove @darkened-writer @ch3rrybutterfly @boredomquest @theladyofmanyfandomsofficial @kisskittenn @kwllakka @feeblemindedfool @oopsieikilledan @that-one-fangirl69 @just-levyy @thisisthepartwhereishutup @alixxhere @quackitys-amor @pepelachanel @lurkingsparrow @faithalsip09 @cwallace02sblog @animaloversammy @peachiesnsilk @libbyaller @juiceboxfullofslime @libra-2409

#haymitch abernathy x y/n #haymitch abernathy x you #haymitch x y/n #haymitch abernathy x reader #haymitch abernathy smut #haymitch smut #haymitch x reader #haymitch abernathy #thg haymitch #moves & countermoves #exile

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mattsundaes · 6 months ago

Note

hi dee! can i request iwaizumi + power outage due to heavy snow storm pls 🎁 happy holidays <3

under the covers 🎀 iwaizumi hajime x f!reader

In which a snow storm, a power outage, and the utter necessity of body heat find you in your roommate's bed.

2.1k — 18+ only, roommate!iwaizumi, roommates to lovers speed run, cuddling for warmth, dry humping, fingering

12:54 am

The numbers glow bright in the darkness of your room as you tap your phone screen, teeth chattering within the bundle of blankets you’re currently burrowed beneath. Despite your best efforts, your own body heat has done little to warm the makeshift cocoon.

A gust of wind rattles your bedroom window as the snow storm outside rages on, leaving a layer of frozen white crystals stuck to the shuddering screen.

The power’s been out for a few hours now—and subsequently the heat to your apartment. Any hope that you may have had for it to kick back on tonight is dwindling significantly by the minute.

Sighing, you glance up at the ceiling before wrenching yourself out of bed with your layers of blankets clutched against you. Your muscles ache from shivering, but you ignore it and slip out into the hallway.

Your roommate’s door sits slightly ajar.

“Iwaizumi, are you awake?” you call out quietly from the doorway.

The creaking of a bed frame is followed by soft footsteps padding across carpet, and the door squeaks slightly as it opens further.

If anything could send heat flooding to your gut, it’s this—the sight of Iwaizumi Hajime with pillow-mussed hair and his pretty eyes that look equal parts tired and concerned.

“You alright?” he asks.

He’s wearing his old Aoba Johsai hoodie. The same one, your brain helpfully reminds you, that you were wearing earlier this morning while cooking breakfast. There’s still a tiny splatter of pancake batter on one shoulder.

You wonder if he saw the drool spot on the sleeve from when you fell asleep on the couch wearing it.

“I can’t sleep,” you admit.

He nods, rubbing his eyes and dragging a hand through his hair, and you can’t help but find yourself momentarily distracted by the motion.

At this rate, you’re beginning to think Iwaizumi could save you from hypothermia by just gawking at him like a stupid lovesick fool.

“Me either, the insulation in this building is shit. And it doesn’t look like they’re gonna get this fixed anytime soon.” He glances back over his shoulder at the snow that continues to fall heavily outside, illuminated by the golden glow of a streetlamp.

Your heart knocks anxiously against your ribcage as you ready yourself to ask the question that you’ve spent the past hour rehearsing in your head.

“I don’t think so, either. But uh…should we maybe try combining our blanket forts in a joint effort to not freeze to death?” You gesture toward the similar pile of blankets on his bed, suddenly feeling more awkward and nervous than you ever have in the past year that you’ve lived together.

If nothing else, you’ll remain forever smug that your habit of shamelessly collecting throw blankets has finally found its purpose—despite the judgemental sigh your roommate responds with every time you come home with a new one.

Iwaizumi laughs, “As long as you don’t hog them all.”

“I make no promises,” you shrug, aiming for nonchalance despite the lingering trepidation inside of you.

—

Early morning light creeps in through the window when your eyes crack open partyway, and the first thing you register is warmth. Wonderful, splendid warmth.

…solid warmth that slowly rises and falls beneath you, two arms snaked around your middle—

Oh.

The good news? Both of you managed to fall asleep last night curled up inches apart atop Iwaizumi’s mattress.

The other good news? While you’re buried under too many blankets to tell if the power made a miraculous return while you were sleeping, you’re deliciously warm all the same.

(Warm enough that you apparently kicked off your sweatpants in your sleep.)

The bad news?

The source of heat beneath you is your unfairly handsome roommate, who’s fast asleep and holding you to his chest with his hands tucked under his hoodie and splayed against the bare skin of your lower back.

He’d unceremoniously stuffed said hoodie back over your head when he turned around to find you shivering after he finished laying out your combined blankets on his bed.

—before you’d both climbed under the pile with the awkward air of a newly married couple in an arranged marriage preparing to spend their first night together.

But now—

It leaves you dizzy, being this wrapped up in the familiar scent of his body wash and cologne while his thumb unconsciously presses into the dip just above the curve of your ass.

And—he’s hard.

Heat freely sparks and combusts in your abdomen, your throat going dry as you try to ignore the tingle of pleasure from the feeling of him pressed between your legs.

Slowly, you try to peel yourself off of him for the sake of your sanity—because you can already feel yourself getting mortifyingly wet. You’re too tired and sensitive and pent up for this.

But Iwaizumi’s grip on you tightens as he murmurs in a sleep-rough voice, “Don’t hog the blankets.”

A small laugh bubbles up in your chest, and you let a finger skate against his side. “I’m not a blanket!” you protest weakly, trying to steady your voice.

Forgetting how ticklish your roommate is, your mistake only becomes apparent when his body jerks in reaction to your touch, leaving his erection to press fully against the heat between your legs.

You gasp before you can stop yourself, and Iwaizumi’s eyes fly open, all remaining traces of sleep quickly slipping away as he takes in your position. The two of you stare at one another for a beat.

“I’ll just—”

You go to shift off of him, prickling with mortification, but his grip on you remains.

“Are you warm?” he asks quietly. Calmly. Pointedly. Clearly not on the verge of dying of embarrassment like yourself.

You nod, slowly.

“Good,” he mirrors your nod. “Sleep a little longer, it looks like it’s still early.”

He says it matter-of-factly, as if he’s not at all bothered by the fact that you’re plastered against his chest, flush against his hard cock.

But he’s so warm—

And you’re still so tired—

Sliding one hand up to the back of your head, he brushes his fingers against your hair in a way that has your eyelids going heavy again as you let yourself sink into his warmth.

If you weren’t so exhausted in the first place, so comfortable in Iwaizumi’s arms, you may have foreseen your next mistake.

But as you fall asleep to the near-silent murmur of, “You’re so warm,” that rustles against the shell of your ear—well, consequences are the last thing on your mind.

You’ve had this dream plenty of times before, the hot, slick heat of Iwaizumi’s mouth on yours. The press of his fingertips into your sides, his tongue against your teeth. The deep rumble of a moan in his chest as you nip at his bottom lip, the answering whimper in your own as he cups your face and kisses you roughly in turn.

The thick press of his cock between your legs as you straddle his waist, your panties already slick with arousal as he grabs your hips and groans, pulling you into him even harder when you start to rock against him.

You’ve woken up soaking wet and alone in bed countless times from dreams like this, dreams of kissing your roommate until you’re both panting and desperate. Dreams of feeling the shape of his dick through his pants as you dry hump him until you’re both on the verge of combusting.

You’ve stuffed a vibrator inside of your tight, creamy hole half-awake to dreams of him flipping you over and thrusting his cock inside—

“Shit.”

You jolt awake to the sound of Iwa’s voice, and you find your lips plastered against Iwaizumi’s neck, the skin there already slick with saliva. Your cunt throbs, and Iwaizumi’s fingers dig into your hips as he drags his clothed cock against your panties.

“I—” he cuts himself off when a whine escapes your lips.

“Iwa,” you pant, realizing one of your fingers is buried in his hair.

“Sorry, I—” he groans when you shift atop him, your folds sliding against your sopping wet panties. “—I was sleeping, and you…”

Gasping at the pleasure that crawls up your spine, you gasp, “Don’t stop.”

Iwaizumi goes still for a moment, though you can feel the unsteady rise and fall of his chest beneath you. “Are you sure?”

You’ll feel a little pathetic for how quick and needy your response comes out later, but for now, you’re too desperate to care.

“Please.”

He exhales, breath coming out ragged as his hands slide to your waist, pushing up your—his—hoodie and your shirt underneath until your tits are nearly hanging out.

His hands burn everywhere they touch your bare skin.

“You have no idea what it does to me every time you wear this,” he rasps.

Heat throbs between your thighs at his admission, at the way he drags his teeth against his bottom lip when his thumbs just barely feather against the lower swell of your breasts.

It’s wholly deliberate this time, the way you drag your hips down against him, and you revel in the way his neck strains as he pushes his head back into the pillow, eyes falling shut.

Even through his sweatpants, the shape and size of Iwaizumi’s cock imprints itself against your pussy with each push and drag, leaving your mouth to water at the thought of him stuffing it inside of you. At the thought of your cunt stretching to accommodate him, sucking him in and taking each inch until he’s slamming against your cervix while you sob his name.

Iwa’s hand cups the side of your neck, sliding up to stroke your jaw as he brings your mouth to meet his, lips hovering against yours as he finally finishes his previous sentence, “You woke me up like this.”

“Sorry,” you gasp, spine arching as your clit catches the outline of the head of his shaft just right. “—Iwa.” His name is less punctuation to your statement than an automatic reaction to the way he presses up into you harder when he sees the way you shudder in pleasure.

“That’s not what you were moaning in your sleep,” he murmurs, chin clasped between two fingers, his stubble brushing against your face as he presses a slow, hot kiss to the corner of your mouth.

He brings a hand down to the curve of your ass, fingers closing around the lacy fabric that covers it and tugging it into a fist. You keen, mouth falling open as he bunches your panties from the back, leaving the fabric to dig tightly into your slit.

“Hajime,” you choke out as he extends a finger, slipping it past your stretched underwear to stroke the outside of your fluttering, dripping hole. You can almost feel it pulsate under his touch, your walls clenching in anticipation.

You can’t even bring yourself to be embarrassed by how wet you are, not after the groan that tumbles from his lips as he feels the evidence of it.

“Say it again,” he breathes against your mouth.

“Hajime,” you moan, and he abandons his grip on your panties entirely to thrust a thick finger inside of you.

Later, maybe, you’ll find the wherewithal to giggle a little with a quip about giving him somewhere hot and wet to stay warm.

But right now, all you can do is writhe on top of him, whining in pleasure as Iwaizumi fingers you while you hump his cock, the dual pleasure turning you into a trembling, needy mess.

You spread your legs even further as he stuffs a second finger inside of you, his voice a hoarse rasp as he groans about how fucking wet you are before capturing your lips in a messy, heated kiss.

“Come for me,” he groans, a string of sticky saliva hanging between your lips while he curls his fingers inside of you. “Let me feel it.”

When you tip over the edge, your vision goes white as every muscle in your body seizes with pleasure, your pussy spasming in a slippery, soaked mess while Iwaizumi finger fucks you through your orgasm.

You can feel him press up into you roughly as you ride it out, your name tumbling from his lips in a stuttered gasp as his cock throbs, flooding his boxers with hot, thick ropes of cum that you can feel as it soaks through his sweatpants.

Both of you go boneless, quiet save for the sound of your breathing until you hear the sound of the power clicking back on. Looking up from where your head is currently pressed to Iwaizumi’s chest, you confirm your suspicions when you see the lamp on his bedside table now illuminated.

“How long do you think it’ll take for the shower to heat up?” you ask him coyly.

Iwaizumi laughs hoarsely in response.

#falalalala drabbles #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi hajime x reader #haikyuu #dee writes

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myfictionaldreams · 1 year ago

Text

Self Care // Bat Boys x Fem!Reader

Summary: You'd had an exhaustive day that was so busy you couldn't stop to eat, and blisters covered your hands and feet. How will your mates react when they return from Windhaven and notice your predicament? One thing is certain: they won't stop until lessons have been learnt.

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, polyamorous, mates, sunshine!reader, fluff, exhaustion, feeling faint, minor injuries, discussion of not eating, dom/sub, oral sex (f receiving), bath/intimate sex, multiple orgasms, creampie, restraints, discipline, aftercare

Words: 5.5k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

There was often a phrase best described for you by your mates and friends: 'too nice for your own good'. Always go above and beyond to help others, even if it is a detriment for yourself, and always have a smile on your face. You loved to help others, from menial small tasks to days-long projects.

The issue that your mates had with this was that you never knew when to say no and often were there to pick up the pieces, which most of the time was your exhausted body.

Your reasoning was that if it benefited others, why wouldn't you help? On a deeper level, the members of your family, your friends, and the people of Velaris had been to hell and back; it was the very least you could do if one of them asked you to carry a box or help fix their door. Except it never was just one thing. Someone notices you helping and asks if, once you're done with that project, you could come and help them.

And you never said no.

Furthermore, you never complained about it, even to your friends. You simply completed the tasks, no matter the pain or exhaustion and would return home to sleep off the discomfort. This annoyed your friends the most for an unknown reason, not comprehending how someone could moan or complain about their day.

"Just rant! Be annoyed! Scream, shout, something! Anything!" Mor had encouraged you on more than one occasion, but you'd shake your head with a smile and lie back on the sofa in front of the fire.

The sunshine part of your personality was stubborn as hell, and not helping others could make you complain.

Today, however, you were experiencing another level of tiredness. The ache throbbing through your muscles deepened enough that even your bones and joints screamed as you walked up the path to the townhouse, your home. You were also walking with muscle memory as your eyes were mostly closed and burning with how dry they were.

Blindly reaching forward, your fingers pushed against the low fence as you entered the front garden, but even this was a feat as burst-open blisters covered your hand from all the help. These injuries perfectly matched those on the back of your feet where your shoes had rubbed to the point of blisters that had long since burst and bled.

You needed a long bath, rest and a lot of food, especially as the subsequent pain to pulse through you was from your empty stomach. You'd been given water throughout the day from those you had helped, so this stopped you from fainting, but the slight tremble in your frame indicated that you were in dire need of something to eat.

As you reached the front door, a coolness swept over your mind, and his voice echoed, 'Hello, Darling. ' A shiver straightened your spine as you smiled and responded mind to mind with one Rhysand.

'Hello to you too. How's it going?' Stepping into your home, you kicked off your shoes and tried to refrain from groaning in satisfaction at the relief of having your sore feet free.

'Painfully. I'm sure Cassian is one more word away from losing his patience, which is saying a lot.'

Pausing in the entryway, you couldn't help but nervously chew on your bottom lip. 'I wish there was some way I could help you all. Do you think you'll be there much longer?'

You could hear Rhys' exhaustion through the bond, hear the heaviness behind his sigh. 'I'm unsure. I'm not staying here tonight. There's no way I'm staying away from you any longer than needs to be, and I think Cass and Az need you too.'

Your eyes drift close, and it's a rare day when Rhys truly leaves his guard down, as well as for your other two mates. You wish you could winnow, even if it meant joining them in the middle of Windhaven, a place your mates refused to take you. How were you supposed to support them when you were so far away?

'Please just stay safe, all of you. I'll be here to look after you all when you're finally home'.

Rhysand groaned through the bond, the sensation of soft fingers carrying your mind in response as he quickly muttered, 'We might be home sooner rather than later in that case'.

Chuckling to yourself, you stumbled into the living room, savouring the blast of warmth from the raging fire, helping ease the ache in your muscles and lull your mind, not helping the exhaustion as you fought to keep your eyes open.

"Is everything ok, my lady?" a voice asked from behind, causing you to jump and turn quickly on the spot, the ground beneath you understudy at the sudden movement as dizziness spiralled through you. Suddenly, two hands are on your arms, steadying you until you're safe enough to not topple over.

"Thank you both, sorry. I'm fine, just a little lightheaded, I think I'm going to go and wash up before the boys return", you explain, looking between Nuala and Cerridwen.

The half-wraith twins stared at you uncertainly, not removing their hands from keeping you upright, even as you stepped forward to walk upstairs. "You need to eat; please sit down so we may get you some food", Nuala pointed in the direction of the vast dining table, helping you into a seat as Cerridwen disappeared in the blink of an eye to the kitchen.

Then you're by yourself, left to your own thoughts. Shaky fingers wiped at your tired eyes as you tried to slow your pounding heart. It was finally beginning to dawn on you that you had pushed yourself too far today. Even with your fae abilities, your hands and feet weren't healing.

You felt it a heartbeat later. The shift in the air. The warmth returned to your soul as the proximity of your mates drew closer. It was as if everything was correcting itself. The missing part of your heart was trying to heal.

It wasn't the sound of their wings beating against the wind or the sound of the voices or footsteps that alerted you to their arrival outside your home. It was the flick of a cool shadow wisping around your fingers, tucking itself beneath your jaw, behind your ear, and remaining close.

The next few seconds were a blur of racing hearts, the last burst of adrenaline that gave you the energy to rush from your chair, run across the wooden flooring and jump into the arms of Rhysand. The joy and relief of having the three of them home was a feeling you would struggle to put a name to other than home.

Rhys wrapped his arms around you, supporting your weight as your legs tucked around his hips and arms around his neck, then reaching behind him to Cassian, who grinned and lifted his hands to cup yours but frowned, seeing the injury to yours, his mouth opening to comment on this but it wasn't him to speak first.

"You're bleeding", Azriel spoke in a voice so low and lethal your body instantly stiffened, as well as Rhys and Cassian's.

For a moment, you weren't sure any of your mates were breathing as you tried to reason with them and say, "It's fine, nothing to worry about". However, you knew it would take more than this to calm their nerves as you found yourself sitting on the edge of the table, Rhys moving with impeccable speed that had the dizzy spell returning. Still, you tried to cover it by placing your fingertips on the table, even with the soreness from the broken skin, and using the touch to ground you to the spot.

"Where?" Azriel growled from your left, his shadows taunting and pulsing with his rising emotions.

"I just had blisters on my feet; it's nothing-". You gasp as you're almost toppled over onto your back as both of your legs are lifted, one by the high lord and the other by the shadowsinger, as they each inspected a foot, cursing under their breath at the blisters and blood.

"And her hands", Cassian lowly informed as he cupped with a gentler touch around your wrists, easing both hands above your head and facing them palm up so he could inspect your injuries.

Closing your eyes with the overwhelming dread that now thickens in the atmosphere due to your mates' worry. The lightheadedness only worsened for a second. Breathing deeply through your nose and out of your mouth, you kept your eyes closed for a moment.

"It's just blisters, they'll heal. I'm sure you're all covered in worse injuries today than I am", you explained calmly, hoping the soothing pitch would equally calm your mates.

"We were, but we healed. Why haven't you healed?" Azriel asked as the coolness of his scarred fingers massaged into the sore soles of your feet, causing you to groan in relief.

"I don't know", you lied whilst tilting your head to the side, fully content on falling asleep there and then in the middle of the table with all three men's hands on you, even if two of them were still inspecting your injuries.

"Liar. Naughty little liar. Do you want to try that again?" Rhysand purred as his hand finally drifted away from your heel to the back of your calf, slipping beneath the loose material of your trousers.

You sighed in relief at the touch, feeling the sleepy sensation teetering around the edges of your consciousness. "'M not lying", you mumbled as any remaining tension in your body loosened so that you were now fully relaxed and prepared for sleep on the table.

However, all of that comfort disappeared as one of the twins appeared in the doorway, carrying a steaming hot bowl of pasta and informed your mates, "She hasn't eaten". Your body stiffened, as did your mates, your eyes flying open with panic, knowing the fallout wouldn't be pleasant and you would be chastised.

A rough hand gripped your cheeks as you were forced to look up at a frowning, upside-down Cassian as he leaned over you, "What do you mean, you haven't eaten? It's nearing the middle of the Night."

"Um. The time just got away from me, and I-".

"That's no excuse not to eat. Enough waiting around, sit, eat and then we will talk", Cassian demanded whilst releasing your hand and face. At the same time Azriel and Rhysand lowered your feet, equally annoyed as Cass. You couldn't really blame them; if it was any of them who had gone without food or drink or hadn't been able to properly look after themself due to menial tasks, you'd be pissed too, needing them to look after themselves.

Lost in your thoughts, you sat up quickly with the plan to sit in the chair next to you, but with the sudden movement, your dizziness returned full force, and your face would nearly end up planting into the floor if it hadn't for Az quickly catching your fall. Nausea tumbled through your stomach as he righted your position, keeping his arms firmly around your waist as you rested your head against his bicep.

"Slow breaths, in your nose and out of your mouth; it'll pass", Az encouraged soothingly, beginning to stroke circles into the nape of your neck with his icy fingers. It took a few minutes of slow breathing before the world righted itself by not spinning so dramatically.

Pulling away from leaning against Azriel, you blinked sheepishly up at him, expecting to see his face set in anger, but all that met you was his calm hazel stare that flicked across every inch of your face. "Sorry", you whispered timidly, steading yourself further on your feet but still holding onto Az.

"It's ok", he reassures as more of his shadows gather around you, like a bond bridging the two of you together, but they also help to keep your skin cool to help with the nauseous feeling.

Helping you into a chair, Nuala placed the bowl of food in front of you, the sick sensation immediately shifting to hunger pains as you stared at the tomato sauce drizzling over the pasta. As you reached for the fork, your hand was gently pushed away as Cass sat in the chair beside you, his knee knocking into yours and wing wrapping around your shoulder subtly.

Gazing at him in confusion as he stabbed some of the pasta with the fork before lifting it to your lips, you shook your head, suppressing a smile, "You are not feeding me, Cassian".

His eyebrow raised, questioning, the scar running through the middle stark against his golden brown skin. "Oh? I'd love to see you pick up this fork without flinching with those ruined hands, Sweetheart".

He was right, and from the smug smirk on his handsome face, he knew it too, as you didn't even bother attempting to prove him wrong. Opening your mouth, you accepted the delicious food with a deep groan as Rhysand sat opposite you and Azriel to your left, pouring water into a glass that you'd not even noticed appeared.

After a few bites of food, the twins returned with more food for the others, but they didn't attempt to start eating. You met Rhys' stare from across the table, his violet eyes dark with shadows, the stars that usually twinkle dim as he drummed his fingers against the table.

"Are you not going to eat your food?" You asked casually, continuing to eat from the fork in Cass' hand. Rhys sat up further in his seat, pulling the sleeves of his black jacket as he looked like he contemplated a thousand responses at once.

"Not until you've finished yours, Darling. Why don't you tell us about your day?"

"It's been fine, just been here and there-".

"You didn't say no again, did you?" Rhys confirmed with a head tilt, assessing your every breath.

"Maybe. It wasn't a lot, really. I'm sure your days have been far more taxing than mine; you don't want to hear me go on and on about it". You are the last mouthful of pasta, finally feeling more energetic, but at the same time, the full tummy meant that the tiredness had your eyes dropping. In an attempt to stay awake, you drank large mouthfuls of the water.

Cass chuckled from your right, his wing flexing over your shoulder as he leaned closer, his breath tickling your cheek. "Ah, you see, that's where you're wrong. I want to hear every single detail of your day. I need to hear you moan about your day and curse people out for asking for your help. I want to hear about how tired you are so I can come and pick up the pieces." Azriel coughed lowly, snagging Cass' attention as he corrected himself, "Fine, WE can pick up the pieces."

Warmth spread through your chest and to the apple of your cheeks as you stared into his beautiful eyes, feeling for the first time at peace that day.

Azriel leaned closer, crowding against your side, but only so he could ghost his lips against the shell of your ear. "He's right, Love. Do you really think I want to talk about the Hellions I've spent the day with? I'd rather not spend another second thinking about my day. You could talk to me about how you painted your pretty little nails all day, and I'd find it infinitely more fascinating than my day".

"I just feel guilty moaning about my day when-"

"Don't." Rhysand interrupted, leaning forward and holding his hands out for you. Only then did you realise that your hands had finally healed as your fingers slipped against his, feeling the rough callouses. "Don't feel guilty about being tired or frustrated; if you can't rant to us, who can you talk to? So, please tell us, in detail, about your day".

So you did. The more you spoke, the more passionate you because about what had pissed you off. No one offered you some food or if it was inconvenient for your day. You talked about how your body felt, the aches and pains, the blisters that had thankfully healed, how excruciatingly tired you were, and most of all, how you hated it when all three of them were away simultaneously.

"I know it can't be helped; you all have so much pressure and responsibilities on your shoulders, but I miss you, even if it's just for one day. It's like I can't breathe without you around, so I said yes to all these jobs to keep distracted, but now all I want to do is lie in bed with you three".

Your mates had remained silent as you ranted, intently listening, stroking your hands and arms or resting a heavy hand on your thoughts, making you feel supported and calm. It felt good to get it off your chest that you relaxed back into the arms and wings surrounding you, entirely at ease.

"Now that we can help with that", Rhys smiles, his emotions softening as he squeezes your fingers before standing up, but you frown, looking between him and the bowl of food.

"Excuse me? Talking about looking after ourselves? Sit back down right now, Mr Moonbeam and eat your dinner". Rhys raises an eyebrow at your stern words, but you don't break the eye contact until he sits back down and begins to eat from his bowl of pasta whilst mumbling, 'I knew I shouldn't have told you my surname'.

Az and Cass were both attempting to hold in their laughter as they began eating their food. You watched them devour the food in half the time you'd taken. Then Azriel's arms are underneath your knees, supporting your back and carrying you carefully towards the stairs as the other two follow.

Winding your arms around Azriel, you played with the short black hair at the nape of his neck, admiring the wisps of shadows that would circle your fingers and wrist, matching the tattoos that had developed over your time in the Night Court.

As he marched you through the corridor, a twinkle in the low lighting illuminated something that had your throat tightening in panic. "Azriel, do you have blood on your earrings?"

His steps didn't falter as he muttered, "It's been a long day". Your arms tightened around his neck, face nuzzling into his body to comfort him.

Once in the shared bedroom, Rhys moved into the bathroom, running the hot water in the bathtub as Az placed you carefully in the centre of the bed, his arm moving behind your head so your entire body was slowly and gently lowered.

His mouth is on you a breath later. Firm lips against yours, his firm muscular body pressing down between your legs until you're chest to chest. A moan formed in your throat as you desperately reached to cup his jaw. You breathed into his cheek, smelling the sweet natural aroma that has your arousal pulsing and heart racing.

His icy hand cupped around your throat, not applying enough pressure to cut off your airway but enough to keep you grounded and safe in his hands. Lifting his head to look down at you, he began to tell you his plans for the rest of the evening. "I know you're tired, and I will have you in my arms asleep soon, but first, you'll lie here and let Cassian look after you. After we move you into the bathroom, ensure you're nice and relaxed. I want to take my time with you in there, touch every inch of you, wash away today's sins, and create my own. Lastly, our High Lord will wrap you in his arms, carry you to bed and show you how much he missed you today with all his grumpy prowess".

Upon hearing this plan, you'd almost forgotten how to breathe and didn't even have the energy to react to Rhys' disapproving noise from the doorway from the bathroom at Az's dig at him. All you were capable of doing was watching every single movement that the man above you took, anticipation throbbing in your cunt.

The large wings framing his back flare as he moves and straddles your waist, his uniform stretching over his muscles as his hand carefully squeezes your throat. "Eyes on me", he instructed as you felt another set of hands on your waist, undoing the button on your jeans and beginning to remove them from your body; then you remembered that he had said Cassian would look after you first.

Assuming he'd meant for Cassian to just pick you up or cuddle you in some way, but as his hands caressed over the naked skin of your legs, you realised it meant something completely different.

"Cassian", you groan whilst trying to roll your hips closer to him, but also, your cheeks burned; you'd been walking around Veleris all day; it would probably be better to shower before anything like this happened. "Wait, let me just freshen up".

"You'll do no such thing", Cass reprimanded as the leathers of his trousers squeaked as he lowered himself to his knees, not that you could see, though, with Azriel's form completely blocking your view.

Another set of hands was then on you as Rhy carefully moved your hands above your head, his thumb stroking over the sensitive skin of your inner wrist as he held you there, looking down at you from beside his shadowsinger.

"After today, what lesson have you learned?" he asked, using his high lord voice, full of authority and power.

You're breathing heavily, lost between trying to concentrate on each of your mates. Azriel, with his body covering yours, Rhys with his restraint and question that you couldn't form an answer to, and Cassian, whose tongue was caressing your inner knee.

The hand around your throat tightened slightly, so your unfocused eyes snapped to Az. "He asked you a question, Love".

Licking your lips, you look up to your High Lord, almost purring yourself as his fingers caress the inside of your mind in a comforting manner. "To not help everyone at once?" you answered, hoping it was right, but from the condescending head tilt from Rhys, you knew it wasn't.

"Try again," he instructed, slowly kissing your temple. For a second, you breathed in his scent of the Night and a fresh ocean breeze, allowing it to wander through your scents and drown any anxieties you'd ever had for the day.

But then your legs are spread with big strong hands, and a mouth seals around your clit and sucks. With Azriel on top, you're unable to arch your back or pull free of the restraints on your arms or legs.

"Ah! Cass!" you gasp loudly as he groans, lapping away at your juices, drinking them all hungrily, causing obscene wet noises, especially as he pushes his thick tongue into your pulsing hole.

"Does he feel good, Darling?" Rhys asks as he uses darkness to brush over your cheek. Your eyes flick between him and Az, wishing you could also see Cass.

"Yes, so good" you breathe slowly, trying to regain some sort of composure, but then he's circling your clit slowly, which begins to throb in time with his movements.

"What did I ask you?" Rhys continued to question, and your mind was completely blank of any thoughts that didn't resort to sex or pleasure.

"I don't know", you stumbled over your words, your tongue beginning to feel heavy in your mouth.

"Well, let's try this again. What lesson did you learn from today?"

"That Cassian is really fucking good with his tongue", you moan, closing your eyes as the man chuckled deeply against your cunt, still moving from inserting himself within you and circling and sucking the bundle of nerves at the apex of your thighs.

Azriel's hand, which had been resting beside your head, moved to cover your mouth, stopping you from saying another word as Rhys tutted loudly. "Now you know that's not what I meant, but I'm sure Cass' ego needed to be stroked just the bit more". You couldn't help but laugh as you noticed Cassian lifting his middle finger in Rhys' direction over Az's shoulder. "Now the thing is", Rhysand continued, "that Cassian isn't going to let you come until you answer my question. We've all had a long day; I think it's only appropriate that some of us learn something from it".

You frown up at Rhys, still not being able to think correctly as you thrash in their grip, wishing to ride out the pleasure that was already teetering on the very edge of becoming bliss, but then it all stops. Cassian moved away from your pussy, and your walls continued to clamp down around nothing as they chased the desire to orgasm but couldn't reach it.

Groaning in frustration, you shook your head, indicating that Az should remove his hand, which he did promptly. "I've learned today that I should wear better shoes", you say hopefully breathlessly.

Rhys clicks his tongue and confirms your failure with a simple "Nope".

"I need to exercise more so I don't feel as tired?"

"Nope".

"That I should carry snacks around with me?"

"Good idea, but still nope".

You're just about ready to scream when it dawns on you, "That I need to put my health above helping others?"

Rhys nods, lowering himself until he hovers only a few inches from your face. "Yes, and why is that?"

"Because I'm your mate?" You can tell by the disappointed look in Rhys' eyes that this wasn't the answer he sought. "Um, because I'm important?"

"Correct, and I don't want you to ever forget that. You put your own health above everyone else. If someone asks you to lift even a flower and you are late to eat or need to sit down, I need you to say no because no one is as important as you. Do I make myself clear?"

Tears lined the edges of your eyes at the sincerity in Rhys' voice, and you could only answer with a flicker of a nod; otherwise, you were sure to release a sob. Happy with your answer, you were rewarded with the delectable return of Cassian's warm, wet mouth on your most precious areas. It took almost no time at all for you to come. With Azriels hand remaining around your throat and Rhys holding down your hands, you were utterly restrained as he licked away until the waves of pleasure eased to oversensitive sparks.

The two on top of you removed themself, beginning to undress as Cass grinned up at you from between your legs, kissing up your body, leaving wet patches in his wake. The blouse you were wearing being pushed up and over your head until all that remained were your socks and bra.

Not that this was what was on your mind as you reached to run your fingers through the long black hair and desperately kiss the huge man above you. Warmth bloomed across your cheeks. You tasted yourself on his tongue, and he carefully stroked it against yours before pulling away and removing the last of your clothing.

Az then returned to pick you up and move into the bathroom, where the sweet floral scents from the foaming bath drifted through your scents, relaxing you further.

The warmth of the water and Az's comfort had your eyes closed instantly, your head falling back against his shoulder as you sat in his lap while the other two joined in the giant bathtub.

Azriel kept to his word and slowly washed away the sweat and grim from the day. Taking his sweet and delicate time as his scarred fingers started from the top of your head, massaging over your scalp and then lower, over your neck and shoulders.

In turn, you also reached behind him and wiped the blood of the earrings lining his ear, erasing the hardships from his day.

You were a constant stream of moans and groans as his magical fingers explored every inch of your skin. Your breath hitched as he circled over your breasts, tweaking the nipples and squeezing the soft tissue before moving lower.

Between your legs was his final destination. He returned to his favourite place after moving over your legs and feet.

Your eyes finally opened with great difficulty as you watched his hand move below the water as you rolled your hips on his lap, feeling his hardness poking into your lower back. The featherlight touch of his lips against your cheek had you turning your head to look back at him as he asked, "Do you want my fingers or cock, my love?"

"Mmm, your cock Az", you greedily decided, wishing to feel full and sated, knowing it would help to make you feel even more satisfied.

"My cock it is then. I'm just going to lean you against Cass's chest, ok? He'll keep you upright". Without having to move a muscle of your own accord, Az slid his arms around your waist and began to move you over to Cass, who was watching with half-lidded eyes, his face evident of his arousal that was poking out of the top of the water anyway.

Sliding your arms around his shoulders, you lazily rested your face against his cheek as Az positioned your hips further back so that you were chest down in the water, on all fours, in doggy position with your arse poking out of the water.

Your nails dug into the muscles of Cass' shoulder as Azriel slowly entered you from behind. His cock stretched you beautifully, almost verging on the tip of pain, but with the help of the water and already having an orgasm, you were prepared.

Azriel took his sweet time with you. The thrusts were long and soft, so the water wasn't too disturbed, but you still felt every inch of him. The strength of his hands on your hips kept your knees from collapsing with the pleasure, and soon he was gently fucking you through another orgasm, your cunt becoming so tight with the contractions of your walls that he too joined in your euphoria, grunting your name as he hunched over and kissed down the centre of your spin.

You'd not noticed that Cassian had also come against your chest until you moved back and saw the white slimy streaks as you sat back and the cheeky grin on Cass's face as he began to wash it off as you sat back into Az's lap.

Now, your body was threatening to entirely fall into the realm of sleep, and as the High lord took you into his arms, your eyes remained closed as you cuddled into his embrace. Using his magic, you were dried instantly so he could carry you to the bed without stopping, pulling back the covers and placing you into the centre of the bed.

He hovered over you, kissing every inch of you that he could reach, starting with your face and then down your chest as your fingers combed through his silky hair and then tugged on it gently so that you could kiss his mouth.

"I missed you. I nearly obliterated Devlon because he wouldn't stop talking, which delayed our return" Your fingers continued to stroke soothingly through Rhys' hair and cheeks. He did a whole body shiver as his wings appeared, draping across the bed, and your fingers moved to dance along the membranes, and his cock throbbed against your thigh.

It was one thing that you noticed with Rhysand. As much as the other two Illyrians confessed their wants and desires, when Rhys did it and made himself emotionally vulnerable to you, you knew that he was struggling more than first perceived. It had only been a day away, yet he needed presence. Your heart ached for him, for his past, his trauma that he tried to keep bottled up.

"I'm here; I'm not going anywhere", you reassured against his lips, tasting him and wrapping your feet around his hips until they were locked together. Much the same as Azriel, he moved slowly and methodically, his cock slowly sheathing inside your wet cunt, shuddering as you squeezed around him.

Cass and Az joined either side of you, watching your face react to the penetration of their High Lord, occasionally giving you encouraging touches and words as you came again and again until your eyes fluttered close with pure exhaustion.

Rhys rested his forehead against yours and, with a final snap of his hips, filled you fully with the spurts of come until it leaked and pooled on the bed. The ache throughout your bones and muscles was replaced with a more satisfied throbbing ache.

You were only half aware when you were suddenly moved as Rhys swapped position, so he was lying in the wet patch, and you were on top of him, your ear resting over his heart, listening to the rhythmic beat beneath. Multiple muscular arms wrapped around your back, and you were fast asleep before the lights flickered out.

#bat boys #bat boys x reader #bat boys smut #azriel x reader #azriel smut #cassian x reader #cassian smut #cassian #azriel #rhysand #rhysand x reader #acotar #acotar smut #mine*#rhysand smut

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gay-dorito-dust · 11 months ago

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Heyho, I saw that your wolverine requests are open and would love Logan reuniting with the reader who he was in love with and thought was dead. Instead she was just Stuck in the void for some reason, maybe being besties with Remy and Logans a little jealous? 👀💞

Logan had just about enough of Wade pissing him about, dragging him along with the promises of getting the TVA to fix his timeline, the timeline he has fucked up and lost everyone he cared about, and subsequently made everyone go against the mutants because of his own actions.

He has lost you prior to the massacre at the mansion. You were sent out on a mission, a simple rescue mission that got dicey real quick with the brotherhood of mutants came, and for weeks on end Logan was left on the edge of breaking the longer the silence on your end grew; only for it crescendoed when it it was brought to everyone’s attention that you and the brotherhood were seemingly wiped from existence. No traces of you were left behind and Logan was forced to deal with the thought that you may be dead, never to come home and brighten his day ever again with that sweet smile of yours.

It had hurt him beyond words to hear this news and immediately responded in denial and anger that he later went to the location where you seemingly disappeared, only to come across a piece of fabric caught on a branch, it was yours for your fresh scent was on it, and so in sobering acceptance Logan pocketed the fabric and made his ways down to the pub to drown his sorrows before encountering his second tragedy back at the mansion.

Two tragedies that ended up with Logan losing the most important people in his life and he couldn’t do anything about it, it ate away at him when he was awake and ate even more at him during the night where the screams were at their loudest. Logan didn’t know whether you died screaming but now and then he swore he could hear your screams the loudest amongst them all.

So while he was eyeing the impressive collection of liquor, debating on which one he should down first, he heard a laugh and then a voice so familiar and engrained in his mind it made his eyes water upon hearing it.

‘Remy i did not steal your bo staff, that is such a ridiculous statement, you probably left it somewhere you can’t remember.’

‘If not you mon Amie then who? Last I recall you wanted revenge against me for a harmless little prank.’

Logan heard you sigh. ‘Harmless is one way to put it but I swear I did not touch your bo staff!’

‘That’s what someone who takes other people’s bo staffs would say.’ Remy replied playfully as you both came into Logan’s view. His eyes were quick to focus on the way Remy’s arm was slung over your shoulder oh so casually as jealously began to brew within his chest. You were both too close for Logan’s liking and he’d have half a mind to walk over and slice Remy’s arm clean off, but unfortunately for the time being he had to show restraint.

Logan could only watch as your laughter subsided and disappeared when your eyes locked onto his. ‘Logan.’ You said his name breathlessly. ‘Logan it’s me!’ You cried as you were quick to push yourself away from Remy’s side as you walked towards him with hope in your eyes. Logan felt his walls crumbling down and the raging jealousy subside as he greeted you halfway, bringing you into his arms tightly as he buried his face deep into your neck.

‘I know it’s you dumbass. There’s no one else quite like you here.’ He said softly as he breaths you in, trying his hardest not to break down right then and there, and telling himself repeatedly that this wasn’t a dream like the ones he had countless times before; You were here in his arms and smelling as sweet as the day you left on that mission. ‘I thought you were dead.’ He adds softly just for you to hear and you couldn’t help but feel your heart break for the amount of hurt Logan must’ve went through thinking that you were dead.

‘I thought I was too.’ You admitted to him as you burrowed your face into his chest, having been missing him dearly since the moment you were brought to the void lost and with no way home to him, you could only imagine what he must’ve been thinking back home that it brought you to tears that day. You knew of Logan’s past and knew how deeply he loved and how deeply he could be hurt, you promised him that you wouldn’t be amongst the people he lost, but it seemed as though the TVA had differing opinions on that and pruned you on the day of the mission.

‘What happened on that mission.’ Logan asked.

‘Everything was going fine, up until these weird people in uniforms- the TVA- that came out of those orange door like portals and pruned all of us.’ You explained as best as you could but even now you still didn’t understand why. However after some time spent in the void you had grown past the point of caring about the reason behind it and just wanted to go home, but most importantly go back home to Logan.

‘Why?’ Logan growled, finding himself hating the TVA even more than he did previously knowing that they had a hand in your disappearance, and even had the audacity to lie and tell him straight to his face that you were dead, not trapped in the void but dead. ‘What gives them the right.’ He adds as he tightens his hold on you, hoping that it would keep you safe for he wasn’t planning on loosing you a second time. You sounded so scared and he fucking hated knowing that you were on your own here for so long, scared and afraid of the unknown of the void.

‘I don’t know Logan.’ You told him honestly, not caring whether or not people saw you break down, ‘I was so fucking scared that I tried calling out for you in hopes that you’d hear me…but you weren’t there…I was so scared that I was going to die here.’ If Logan wasn’t already protective of you before, then he was even more protective of you if that was possible to begin with as he pressed reassuring kisses against your forehead. ‘It’s okay, I’m here now, you’re not alone anymore not ever again will you be alone.’ He promised you as he hugged you tighter against his chest in hopes of bringing you comfort with his warmth.

‘I’m so fucking glad you’re okay.’ You told him, pulling back to press your forehead against his own, smiling softly when you felt him push his head against yours.

‘I’m just as fucking glad to see you’re okay too sweetheart.’ Logan replied as he felt comfortable enough to close his eyes, finding it easier to breathe and relax within your presence as he drank you in.

The reunion between you two was sweet as it was comforting knowing that the other way okay, but then Remy opened his mouth. ‘ you must be the Logan they’ve talked so highly about.’ He said with a smile, happy to see you reunited with a loved one.

‘Who’s this.’ Logan asked you with a sense of hostility as you held his face within your hands so that he wouldn’t be able to look elsewhere but you. ‘Remy. He’s just a friend I made here and an occasional pain in my ass, nothing more.’ You reassured him as you stroked his cheeks in hopes of calming him down.

‘I can assure you that their heart is more than taken by you.’ Remy interjects as you glare at him to shut up, only for him to smirk and shrug his shoulders before deciding to grant you both some privacy. ‘Just don’t do anything carnal or nasty anywhere near my liquor yeah?’ He adds without shame as you glared daggers into his back, by the gods he can be so embarrassing sometimes.

‘I’m so sorry about him.’ You told Logan but he was too busy admiring your lips.

‘Is what he said true?’ He asks softly.

‘Yes.’ You admitted, ‘but it’s not like you like me I mean what about jea-‘ before you could finish your sentence Logan was quick to shut you up with a impassioned kiss that almost knocked you back, but you were just as eager to reciprocate the kiss tenfold as your hands ran up and into his hair, giving it a sharp tug now and then as Logan would retaliate with a low growl and biting your bottom lip.

‘Are you going to fuck now? If you are should I leave or?’ Wade asked and Logan was reminded of the most obvious and annoying person alive and pulled away to glare at him. ‘Fuck off.’

‘Okay.’ Wade said and was immediately out of the room as fast as he could.

‘Where were we?’ Logan asked once he looked back at you with a soft smile as you drew him back into a soft, warm kiss, your soul singing happily as you reunited with the man you loved the most.

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