#Experiencing excruciating head pain.» | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fanaticsnail · 6 months

Text

Kind And Gentle

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 3,100+

Synopsis: Your shoulders and back ached with a pain you had attempted to cast aside as you went about your duties. The ache turned excruciating, your focus now being taken hostage between the gripping pain. Fortunately, the grip of two firm hands found your body and eased you through the torment.

Themes: Benn Beckman x reader, Friends to lovers, confessions of love, suggestive dialogue, massaging - reader receiving, pain, aching, yearning, small kiss, Shanks is a meanie, swearing, teasing, Beckman is a softie, Beckman is a gentleman, term of endearment "Darlin'" used - it's just what I associate him saying.

Notes: Pure self-indulgence fic, procrastinating while I should be going through my WIPs. My shoulder hurts, guys. Needed this to get out of my system and get through the pain. Art link.

Tag List: @sordidmusings @since-im-already-here @feral-artistry @writingmysanity @carrotsunshine @i-am-vita @gingernut1314 @mfreedomstuff @missbeckman @tiredemomama

Pain. White and hot, swelling and encumbering. This was what you were experiencing in the middle of your spine; just a little to the right side of your body.

The ache never eased, no matter what position you slept in, nor adjusting your posture throughout the day. It was unending, the torment which knit your muscles together and cemented them in place.

You clenched your eyes tightly shut, bracing yourself against the wooden hallway wall as you rotate your neck in a circle atop your shoulders slowly. Arching your back, you winced as the knot continued to integrate itself in a woven entanglement of painful muscle beneath your skin.

Biting back a whimper, you tried as you might to reach the cursed divot beneath your flesh, whining quietly as your fingertips barely brushed against the surface of the painful coil. The ache called to you, the burden causing a small tremor in your lips from the electric heat of the hidden wound.

Shaking your head, you huffed out a breath as you attempted to soldier on about your daily chores. Ignoring the tight ache beneath your skin with a deep grimace written on your lips, you finally gave into your pain and balanced your hands against the wooden beam atop the deck of the Red-Force.

The sea breeze hit your nose, relaxing you briefly before the pain eclipsed all your senses. Brain foggy with anguish, lips parted and panting, eyes frantic and wife: you could bear it no longer. You muted a cry, muffling it within your mouth while you tried to release the elastic coil in your back by twisting your torso.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” you curse in a soft whisper, your brows rising in a pain-riddled peak in your forehead. You moaned out in a soft whimper, praying nobody could hear your weakness as you tried to reach for the spot a second time.

The band was bordering on excruciating, your mind contemplating whether or not to seek out Hongo for medical attention due to the intensity of the pain. Just as you began to turn on your way, two strong hands clapped over your shoulders: thumbs moving in rough circles against your skin.

“I got you, Darlin’,” the gruff voice Shanks’ first mate whispered in a calming rumble, “Just tell me when I'm gettin’ close to it.”

Benn Beckman. It was always Benn Beckman. Any time any of the crew needed anything, no task too small, no feat too great: Beckman was the champion you had all grown accustomed to rely on. Leaning back into his touch, you hung your neck low to grant him greater access

“Oh-... mmmf-... -‘kay,'' you whimpered, curving your back down to expose more of your spine to him, “It's not-... Hhah-... It's not normally this-...fucking, shit-... -this bad.” A small click of his tongue snapped at you in empathy as his thumbs brushed against the coil of pain.

Although your friendship with Beckman ran deep, you had never engaged with him physically before. You respected one another, adored one another, and were as close as two crewmates could be. Two sides of a coin, twin edges of a blade, the gunpowder and the spark that lit the fuse - this was how you were described by your red-headed captain.

But as his thumbs sought out your deepest pain, all your thoughts escaped you. There was nothing else, just: Beckman, his focus and his expert touch.

“Just a touch to the right-... ahh, Becks!” you cried out as his digits flicked over the painful swell beneath your flesh. Huffing out pants of breath, you sobbed in strained relief as he continued massaging your body.

“Oh, fuck. It's there, isn't it?” he whispered, the thumb of his right hand pressed firmly against the tight knot as his left hand braced you against the side-beam of the boat, “There it is, Darlin’. I found it. There's the spot.” You arched your back within his broad hands, your arms stiffening in firm pillars against the deck as he prodded the painful peak in your back.

“Oh, that's it! Right there, that's the spot,” you mewled out, crying and gasping for him as he untangled your muscles with his rough, practiced hands. Just as he pressed his strength further against you, you winced out a strangled, “Fuck, not so rough! Be kind and gentle with me, Becks!”

“Darlin’, this is me being kind and gentle,” he bullied his thumb into your skin, stapling you to the wall of the ship by his hips and holding you steady with his hand perched on your left shoulder, “You need a bit of rough treatment. Hold still, let me coax it out of you.”

“Becks,” you whispered out his name, lulling your head back on your shoulders as he continued to pry, paw and claw the knot apart with his right hand, “Becks it hurts.”

“I know, I know,” his gruff voice reassured you, the gentle hold of his left hand against your shoulder contradicted the right hand that bruised your muscles, “It'll all be over soon. I'm nearly there, I can feel your body moving it with me. Just hold on.”

His thumb pressed an intentional swipe up, directing the pain up your back and into the peaked corner of your shoulder. His brows knit low in deep concentration, prompting him to suck in an empathetic breath in anticipation.

“Ohh… You're gonna hate me,” he whispered in your ear, kicking your feet apart with his heavy boots before anchoring his pelvis against your glutes to hold you firmer against the ship's wooden railing, “You need an elbow.”

“No, no, no! Not an elbow!” you cried, just as his right elbow drew itself against your spongy flesh, “Becks! It's-... nnmfph-... too much! Ahh! Too much!”

Attempting to break from his grip, you shook yourself away from his hands, only for your body to immediately betray you. Bent over the railing, your back immediately became unraveled by a firm grip and a strong elbow to the point that ailed you.

“Oh hush, you need it,” he barked in a soft tone, eclipsing your concern with an intentional rotation of his elbow against your shoulder, “Be a good little thing and take it.” He was moving the vines of the entanglement away from the source point, breaking it down beneath his body and flushing it out with heavy swipes.

Benn Beckman was experiencing the toughest battle he had ever had the displeasure in engaging with. He was trying to tune out how good you sounded calling out his name in pants and whines, his own empathetic huffs and groans mixing harmoniously with yours as he gripped your flesh.

“Benn Beck-...fuck-... It's right there. Right there, Becks! Don't stop!” you whimpered, your voice high and your desperation showcased in the soft pants of your breath. The release of your entangled flesh was just within Beckman's grasp, prompting him to switch back to using his fingers to expel the pressure beneath your skin.

“I got you. There ya’ go,” he confirmed again, expanding the heel of his palm against the binding presence of the last of the entanglement, “Breathe through it with me, I'm not gonna stop ‘til you're done.”

“Oh, fuck Beckman,” your eyes glazed over, your lips parting and crying out in bliss as his skillful ministrations cast out the pressure in your shoulder as a priest would cleanse unholy ground to make their sanctuary.

“Th-That’s it. Oh m-my fuck-,” you whined back into his hands, “You're so good. Your hands feel so good.” As the last of the knot fled your shoulder, a warm chuckle rumbled from behind you. Beckman's laugh brought you comfort, his softness depicted in this small moment as he held you in his arms.

His firm hands turned soft, caressing your shoulders in tender, gentle touches. He molded both of your shoulders within his palms, your body becoming jelly beneath his rough and calloused hands. You moaned softly as he maneuvered your body in a perfect arch against his chest, the rumble of his chuckle reverberating within your back to vibrate within your chest.

“Better?” he whispered in the shell of your ear, easing his body back to enable you to escape his broad cage. Instead of breaking away from his body, you relaxed into his arms, sighing out a warm breath of contentment.

“Thank you, Becks. You're bloody amazing at that,” you praised him, feeling light and free of the bonds that confined you, “Why did you offer to help me with it?”

“There was something in your face that told me you needed it,” he shrugged, huffing a small chuckle out of his nose and leant down to rumble out a whisper in your ear, “Always wanna help you, Darlin’.”

“Oh Becks, I could kiss you,” you turned in his arms, gazing through half-hooded eyelids up at him, “Can I?”

He smirked down at you, a small pink due flushing his cheeks with a subtle dust, bobbing his head in a soft nod to grant you permission. As you circled your arms over his neck and began to draw him closer to your lips, a chorus of barked laughter and an uproar of cheers echoed along the hull of the ship. Clapping hands, whistles and hoots erupted from your crew now surrounding the two of you.

“Oh, Beckman,” your captain cackled at you, his right hand clapping over his heart, “In public, big guy? And you,” he pointed his index finger at you, his wolfy grin painted in a drawn-out taunting smirk, “You sly little fox. Gettin’ the big man to take you right on the deck?”

“What?” you questioned your captain in a warning tone, floating your eyes between the rest of the crew gathered on the deck beside him. Shanks’ playful twinkle fluttered beneath his weighty eyelashes.

“Be gentle with me, Becks,” he mocked in a needy moan not too dissimilar from your own, before hardening his features and deepening his voice in a grunted, “You need a bit of rough treatment,” he commented gruffly. The color drained from your face, eyes widening and lips parting once again in bashful horrification.

“Oh right there, Becks, don't stop,” Shanks continued his performance, a small warning began to rise within Beckman's throat in a rumbled growl. Breaking out of your embrace, he grimaced at the red-head in front of him.

“Enough, Cap’n,” Beckman snarled, reaching within his pocket and pulling out his lighter with his left hand, fishing out a cigarette to follow, “Got out a knot, s’all. You know how shit they are.” Beckman ignited the end, taking a lengthy drag and exhaling a puff away from your face.

“Really? That's all?” Shanks cried out a laugh, the crew echoing his unashamed and carefree joy at the notion, “I thought I saw some hips moving together, Becks. You were letting some of your own groans out too, mewling like a wh-.”

“-Or should I relay half of the bullshit you curse out when Hongo releases the knots in your own shoulder?” Beckman smirked, his eyes daring his captain to say another embarrassing quip. After a pregnant pause, silent tension only momentary before another uproar of laughter barked out amongst the Red-Hair pirates.

“Yeah, yeah. I'm done,” Shanks waved his hand in the air, shooting you a small wink before turning to face his crew, “What say we make port, huh? Resupply with some fresh drinks, a hot meal, some good company, and a comfortable sleep on dry land?”

“Aye, sir!” the crew echoed in unison, your own confirmation falling from your lips as you began maneuvering around the first-mate to resume your duties. Just as you passed Beckman's shoulder, a firm hand shot out and gripped your forearm to hold you in place.

“Beckman?” you asked, turning to meet his eyes. You floated your own between his, hovering your attention to fixate on him completely, “Everything alright, Sir?”

“Goin’ back to ‘Sir’ again, after all that,” he murmured, barely above comprehension. Your quizzical feeling never left you, still hovering between the lenses of his glassy orbs.

“How you feeling?” he asked as he pressed down the filter end of the cigarette beneath the pad of his thumb, placing the butt-end in the small drawer attached to the hull of the ship, “I get it all out, or the ache still hangin’ in there?”

Humming in thought, you rotated your right arm and felt the ghost of your prior pain simmer down and flee from your form. The small pinch only remained behind in memory, but the small remnants of the ache threatened to return.

“It's gone for now, I think,” you uttered with a small shrug, “It'll likely begin the slow journey back up my spine in a pinch.” Beckman hummed in thought, nodding along as he checked over your body for any changes.

After a small lull, you held your ground as the atmosphere once again fell into awkwardness. You shook your head to stifle your nerves, sucking in a breath to elevate your courage.

“Can I buy you a drink or two when we get to port?” you ask him, eyes dropping to the ground and hands laced behind you, “An expression of my gratitude for you helping me out?”

“You askin’ me out on a date?” Beckman disguised his growing smile by arching himself away from you, loosening the tie in his hair and beginning to restyle it.

“And if I am?” you ask, still avoiding his gaze by holding your eyes firmly against the floor, “What then?”

“What then, Darlin’,'' he smirked, his eyes softening as his hands found your hips, “Is that I'd accept.” He pulled you flush with him, prompting your eyes to widen and search his gray orbs in your shock, “I wouldn't mind spending an evening with you, havin’ drinks in a quiet corner for a change.”

“It would be a nice change,” you confessed, eyes again falling soft for the first mate. He leant his hips back on the wooden railing, reaching up to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. His index finger lingered on your chin, holding your eyes against his.

“What was it for you? To have you finally make a move after all this time?” he asked, his eyes turning playful as he looked down at you through half-hooded eyes, “The hands or the elbow?”

“I think it was the words,” you confessed with a small laugh, “Not used to having the Great Benn Beckman whisper: ‘be a good little thing and take it.’ Wouldn't mind hearing that again, if I'm being honest,” a small choked pause fell from Beckman's lips, your own question now posed to him.

“What made you accept a drink with me?” you searched his eyes quizzically, pursing your lips as you continued, “We've served together for so long, what made you consider it now?”

“Oh Darlin', I've always considered it. More than considered it,” he huffed out a chuckle, bringing your face closer to his with the curl of his index finger, “Just didn't know how much I wanted it ‘til you started sayin' my name like that.” He hovered his lips over yours, his breath still scented with the sour, smoky tang of his last cigarette as he beckoned you in.

“Wouldn't mind hearing that again, if I'm bein' honest,” he parroted your words back at you before finally claiming your lips beneath his own in a chaste kiss. The attention he gave your lips was brief, ending contact almost as soon as they touched.

He pulled away from your lips, noticing your pout and slight agitation at the hastiness the kiss ended. Chuckling, he leant over your ear and confessed his intentions further.

“Cap’n’s watchin’,” he nodded over to where Shanks’ taunting eyes and winning smile wordlessly teased you both, “Don't wanna give him more ammunition to tease you with, Darlin'. No matter how much I really wanna kiss you.”

“I owe you more,” you hummed up at him with a soft smile, tucking the loose strand of hair away from his forehead and behind his ear, “Anything I can do to repay my growing debt to you? More than a couple drinks later, a little kiss, or taking care of your duties for you today?”

“Just the promise of your company later will do for now,” he chuckled, leaning into the heel of your palm with his lips, pressing a soft kiss against your skin.

“Aye, Sir,” you smirked at him, giving his cheek two gentle taps before returning back to duty with a newfound rejuvenation. Your limbs felt lighter, your body felt freer and your head felt less foggy with the prior pain you felt.

Shanks sauntered over towards his first-mate, smirking and kicking up his feet all along the way in a playful dance. Beckman shook his head, reaching for another cigarette and lit the end. Shanks leaned his head against Beck’s shoulders, uttering not a single word as he fluttered his eyelashes, wiggled his eyebrows and clicked his tongue at the broody, larger man.

“Don’t even start,” Beckman growled under his breath. Shanks smiled wider, jolting his right index finger into Beckman’s side as he hummed up a playful mock at him.

“But you finally made a move, big man,” Shanks chuckled, nudging him with his left shoulder, “How long’s it been now? Two, maybe three years of longing, yearning and lusting from afar, hm?”

“Four,” Beckman commented gruffly, inhaling a deep breath of smoke in his mouth and holding it still behind his lips, “And I remember saying: ‘don’t even start’.”

“Alright, alright. I’m going, I’m going,” Shanks held his right hand up in defence, an extra buzz in his step at the knowledge that Beckman and you had finally allowed a small crack in the door open to engage with one another this way. A small chuckle erupted in Shanks’ voice, his own amusement adamant over his features.

“Right there Becks, don’t stop,” Shanks’ voice whined again in a needy moan, before growling out a rumbled mock of, “I’m not gonna stop ‘til you’re done,” he laughed, turning back over his shoulder, “Honestly, Beckman. Show a bit of composure, man.”

Beckman’s blush scorched scarlet on his features, prompting him to thrust the butt of his cigarette into the drawer and begin to charge at his Captain. Shanks shrieked out a giddy cry of amusement at his first-mate.

“Be kind and gentle with me, Becks!” Shanks laughed, turning tail and began running away in glee from successfully taunting his first mate. The barrelling boot heels of the first mate almost managed to catch up to the Captain immediately, but Shanks continued successfully darting away from Beckman’s disciplinary grasp.

#one piece #x reader #benn beckman #benn beckman x reader #beckman x reader #red-hair pirates #beckman #op benn beckman #op benn beckman x reader #red hair shanks

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yeonjuns-beanie · 18 days

Text

Sacrifice

warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected sex(if i ever write protected know that my acct has been hacked), soulmate color au, hinted character death…, angst, somewhat established relationship–you’ll see, soft sex with logan with a few primal undertones, biting, oral(m&f receiving), a lot of mentions of blood due to the reader’s mutation, light hair pulling, depictions of violence, i think that is all lemme know if i missed anything!

summary: y/n is an omega-level mutant who finds herself on Xavier’s doorstep after an unfortunate encounter. cursed with the knowledge that whomever she loves will one day die by her hand, her heart tries its best to bury itself upon seeing color when she meets logan but the fight proves to be fruitless.

word count: 8K

logan howlett x female!reader

Heavy lids and a limp in your right leg, you continued the trek up on the side of the winding road covered by abundant fir trees. The cold was biting and your breath fogged in front of you as you hobbled up the hill. You tried to self soothe by hugging your frigid limbs occasionally breathing heat into balled up palms.

It was agonizing.

Every time you brought your hands up to your face to warm them up, your body shivered at the proximity of the dried blood on your hands. Your fangs extended, gently touching the sides of your tongue before you tried to retract them and your eyes rolled back with a nauseating euphoria rushing through your veins. Your breathing increased, turning into short pants as you ignored the innate feeling to hunt.

To feed.

You could sense every animal around you and your limbs twitched in a wicked need to hone in on their scent and drain them of their lifeforce. You needed to feel the luxurious sensation of their blood filling up and sliding down your throat feeling your power rush back to you.

Your body betrayed you.

There was a controlled thrashing of your head and limbs as it tried so desperately to lead to where to feed but you knew you needed to enact discipline otherwise Weapon X would forever have the final word. You’d be nothing more than an experiment gone wrong, a mutant turned haywire. You’d be the beast that everyone thought you were before the experimentation. A monster.

Forced to haunt the shadows as any real sighting of you would invoke distress and trepidation among humans and mutants alike. You were virulent and Hell would freeze over before anyone let you believe otherwise. You stared down at your feet as you ignored the call to feed hoping that if you focused on the steel tips of your boots hard enough you could drown out the hunger.

Raising your head to see if your destination was in your sights, you could see the massive brick building with lights surrounding it as if you were about to enter heaven. Due to your fatigue, the lights were bending and stretching from the main bulb making it look like strobes were beaming out of the building. You laughed to yourself, tears brimming in your eyes as you felt relief wash over you. You tried to run but your powers were severely frenzied. You were exhausted, completely drained by the experiment and your mutations were in such an overdrive that if you tried to access them you weren’t sure if you’d be able to stop yourself.

Sighing, you took another step forward before being completely incapacitated by your blood boiling beneath your skin. It was like someone set you ablaze. Your vision was blurry but it was the only time you saw glimpses of color. Flashing images of the experiment and your current surroundings clouded your vision in a hazy red as you furiously tried to wipe the images from your eyes.

Continuing to walk through the excruciating affliction you were experiencing you tripped over your own feet, your knees hitting the pavement with such a force that the gravel and rock that was scattered upon it lodged itself into your skin through your jeans. You doubled over in pain letting the searing agony bore holes through your anatomy.

Maybe I should’ve stayed.

You feared that you were transforming into the rapscallion demon everyone was terrified of you becoming. You tried to stay upright dragging your knees across the road feeling blood pool into the fabric of your jeans. It seemed colder out now, goosebumps covering your skin and your head longing for the warmth of something that wasn’t just your hair. With every raise of your legs, the weather bitterly reminded you of the rocks scraping your skin, letting the blood pool only to be healed when your opposite leg touched the ground again.

The entrance of the mansion wasn’t far and you were finally close enough to feel the warmth of the streetlight envelop you but it wasn’t enough to defrost your frozen skin. You wished you could see the colors of the building, feeling that maybe you’d be more motivated to reach the gates and ignore the enervation if you could see all the different hues of the building in the budding colors of dawn. With the red hue in your vision fading, so did your vision itself. You fell onto your hands and dragged your body as close as you could to the front gates before collapsing on the ground, your right hand wrapping gingerly around the iron bars.

~*~

When you awoke, you were in a lab again.

Fear. Unbridled fear.

It encapsulated you. The wires placed on your chest and head, the IV bag hanging on your right side with a small needle stuck in your cubital fossa was all too familiar to what you endured only days before. The bright lights over you only continued to petrify you in your colorblind state. Everything looked so sterile in here which was most certainly an upgrade from the Weapon X facility but you couldn’t shake the terror.

Sitting up from the table, you realized you were naked, covered only by a sheet. Even though fear rattled your body, you knew you needed to calm down to get a better grasp of where you were at.

Did I do all of that just to get captured again?

Gently taking the IV needle out of your arm, you scanned the room looking for any cameras but you found none. Calming down your breathing, you took off the jelly pads that were stuck to your skin and the monitor on the left side of you stopped the routine beeping of your vitals. You slid yourself off the table and wrapped the sheet around your body like a Greecian toga. After knotting the fabric over your right shoulder you heard faint footsteps clicking on the tile floor and you smelled two bodies. Staring down at the floor you tried to focus on who they were debating whether or not they’d be a threat. As you closed your eyes you heard the light whirring of wheels coming down the hallway outside of the room you were in, your breathing increased ready to be on the defense of whatever was on the other side of that door.

You walked behind the table you were laid out on moments before, your bare feet sticking to the tile and echoing your steps in the aseptic room. You wanted to give yourself an advantage with a divider if you needed one but something was telling you that you needn’t be so skittish. Your fangs were bared, face contorted in mulishness just in case you needed to flee. As the silver, circular doors breathed out compressed air and opened, a bald man in a wheelchair entered. A slender black woman with short, feathered white hair highlighted with black streaks walked alongside him.

Your chest heaved in uncertainty and with your body still on the defense, you hissed at the two. You were unaware of the new mutations you had but your eyes changed color, a black rim engulfing most of your sclera leaving little white to show, with a vibrant, luminescent red ring covering your irises. Your fangs flashed in a snarl as you were desperate to save yourself, terrified that you’d be another test.

The two were oddly calm across your frightened form and seeing their demure nature, it knocked your body into calming down. Your eyes return to their natural state, a vibrant hue that wasn’t natural. Your eyes were a sight, hypnotic to most as the jewel-toned color became the focus point of your face. As you calmed down you realized your fangs didn’t retract. It was usually a passing thought and you were able to blend in with society as best as you could but they weren’t budging. Running your tongue across your top row of teeth you realized that it wasn’t just your canines anymore, but now your incisors were sharpened as well. Your eyes widened slightly in horror, afraid of yourself now.

“We’re not here to hurt you, but to help.”

You looked around the room looking to see who it was that spoke.

“Look forward.”

“Who are you people?”

“I’m Charles Xavier. Ororo, but most call her Storm. You’re safe here. Nobody took you elsewhere, you made it to the mansion. I must say though, you made quite an entrance leaving us to find you bloodied and bruised on our doorstep.”

You bowed your head, ashamed that you couldn’t even walk to the door but left for someone to find you. You were embarrassed that they found you in the state that they did, hoping that they didn’t view you as a brute freak splattered in dried crimson and sweat.

“I didn’t know where else to go. I tried. I tried to make it past the gates but I was in so much pain. My body gave out on me, please forgive me. For the state in which you found me and for how I just greeted you. I’m not in my right mind.”

Charles nodded at you with a tight-lipped smile and motioned for you to follow the pair.

“Come. We have much to discuss.”

Storm handed you folded sweats for you to put on and waited for you to get dressed. As you zipped yourself up in the hoodie, you followed closely behind her with your hands shoved in your pockets and your hood hiding your head.

~*~

Sitting across Charles at his desk, Storm was leaning against the wall behind you, the door to Charles’ study left ajar.

“So, my dear what’s your name?”

“Omen.”

“Your birth name?”

“Y/n.”

“So Y/n, why Omen?”

You sighed, closing your eyes to relive all of the memories of your past.

“Always been a bad omen. People were afraid to look at me, understandably so, I’d be a little freaked out by someone with eyes like these. But…it stemmed from other mutants. I could hide really well amongst humans but when other mutants found out what I am, and what I can do, they treated me like the plague. Like I was a death sentence, they feared me so in turn I fed off of that. I, a portent foreshadowing of mortality, was forced to walk alone in an effort to save myself and those around me. If you see me, well, a bad omen might’ve been sent your way. And that’s how-”

You paused, your nostrils flaring for barely a second.

Someone else was in the room now.

You didn’t even bother to turn around, you continued to stare at Charles not ready to confront another introduction. You mouthed to Charles.

Who is that?

“Y/n, this is Logan. Logan this is Y/n, or ‘Omen’ as we’re learning.”

There was a pit that settled in your stomach, a foreboding that was tantalizing and horrifying all in the same breath. You were fighting an internal war between turning around and hoping that whoever Logan was would leave the room, assuming that he was the reason for this feeling brewing within you. You stayed stiff in the chair, not daring to move. You were hiding your eyes behind your hair as if Logan could see right through you and make the same judgments as everyone else. You hung your head as you heard his footsteps get closer to you before he sat right in front of you on the corner of Charles’ desk.

“You know it’s rude to not say hello.”

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath hoping that your words wouldn’t fail you.

“Hello.”

“Normally, you look at someone when you greet them.”

Raising your head, that feeling in your gut intensified and as you opened your eyes to properly greet him suddenly the world around you gained a vibrance that you never had the luxury to experience. Your eyes widened and you frantically looked around you as experienced the color of the furniture come to life. Looking down at your hands, you notice the color of your warm skin come to life, no longer bound to the greyscale of before. When you raised your head again you looked to Charles, then back around to Storm before landing on Logan, your eyes wide with shock, adoration, and a bit of fear. Logan was looking at you with the same intensity and suddenly you didn’t feel so weary of looking at him anymore.

“Hello, Logan.”

Your brow furrowed, he looked at you in a way you couldn’t quite discern yet, but you didn’t have a hunch that it would be anything negative. Charles leaned forward and Storm came up closer to understand what was happening between you two.

“Y/n, what’s happening?”

“I-uh, I can see.”

“See what?”

“Color. I can see color.”

His voice was low and gravelly, it had a sweeter tone to it now.

“So can I.”

Before you could relish in the feeling of finally finding your soulmate, it was quickly shrouded by the fear of what having a lover meant for you. There was a more sinister meaning to your name besides being completely repudiated by all aspects of society. Your mutation meant many things, but in finding your soulmate you’d have to blood bond them which meant dependency for life. The bond would be completely inseparable and invasive.

It frightened you.

You’d feel every emotion, every pain, every suffering. You’d be unstoppable together but if ever separated you’d be an extreme danger and with all things considered you were terrified if the experimentation amplified that. You didn’t want to be the killer they made you out to be. You stood up, overwhelmed by the situation.

“I don’t know if I can do this. I need to go. I don’t want to make things worse, I don’t wanna hurt anyone again.”

“Y/n, please. We can’t help you if we don’t know everything. I’m not going to fish through your mind. Sit, please.”

You glanced at Logan and then back to Charles before speaking again.

“You were saying that if people saw you that meant a bad omen was sent your way, what did you mean by that?”

“It’s part of the reason why they snatched me up.”

“Who?”

“Weapon X.”

There was a bitter silence that filled the room and you didn’t want to relive it, but you had to. You needed to. If you were to overcome these feelings, this internal war within you, you had to face it. You waited for someone to speak but the silence remained so you broke it resentfully.

“My mutation makes me an omega-level mutant, the government likes that. They like having murder puppets at their disposal. A genetic war machine, a hitman for hire I was. Weapon X caught wind of my efficiencies in execution and promised me an upgrade I couldn’t refuse. They told me that this experiment they did on me would make the mutation adamantine. They packaged it up in a pretty box, topped with an elaborate pink bow and I fell for it hook, line, and sinker. I felt useful for once like I finally mattered and had a purpose. I was a natural born killer so might as well stop fighting it, right? I couldn’t have been more wrong.”

Tears were beginning to brim at your waterline as you wrestled with your feelings of dejection and the perpetual pit of undesirability. You just wanted to matter and you did, but only as a murderer.

“You see I was able to control the hunger before, practically ignore it but after the experiment it was insatiable. They put me on a medical table and injected me with some sort of serum but my body, my mutation harnessed it like a bloodthirsty demon that spent years caged in civility. They did what they wanted to do with me, they made me the monster everyone thought I was, the killing machine they needed. What they failed to consider though was if I would comply once the experiment was completed.”

Tears were now slowly falling from your eyes as you recounted the memory of days before. How rabid and vicious you were. The blind rage and wolfish animal you’d become.

“I slaughtered them. While they completed the transfer, they wanted to wipe my memory–make me a murderous android and that’s not what I was promised. I was promised unbridled control over my abilities. So as I lay on that table, wires coming out of all my limbs, I ripped them out, an intemperate bloodlust surging through me.”

You stared down at your hands imagining the fresh blood that was once splattered all over them and how delicious it felt to be in a power like that.

“All I had to do was look at them and I could make their blood do whatever I wanted. Hemokinesis, they were completely at my will. Crimson splattered the facility as I ripped through their veins or made weapons of their insides. I had enhanced strength and speed now making me a fiendish nightmare. I ate every bullet, laughing at their futile attempts to stop me or my now regenerative abilities. They created a monster and now they wanted to bury it. Very Frankenstein of them except like the creature created by Mary Shelley, I lived. In a more violent nature but I lived.”

You swiped your tongue over your teeth before bringing your pointer finger to the side of your mouth to stretch the skin and show your fangs. They were sharper now and you were starting to prefer it. As you recounted the events of earlier this week, you almost stopped feeling sorry for yourself and stopped feeling so scared as you came to terms with how powerful you’d become.

“The mutation was always blood manipulation but never at this intensity. I had heightened senses, or bloodsense as I like to call it.”

“Why bloodsense?”

“Well, it’s not like an animal. I can’t smell people for their scents but I can smell their blood. It gives me access to their location, a new presence, and even their emotional state. Which is why the government found me useful, I was better than a sniper scope.”

You sighed.

“Problem now was, I was hungry. Normally, I would’ve controlled myself, controlled the thirst, but whatever they did to me I couldn’t help it. Whoever was left and not entirely splattered into pieces, I sunk my teeth into. I can’t describe the euphoria I felt draining them. I would heal before but at a slower rate, now if I feed it’s almost instant.”

Looking around the room, you thought before you spoke.

“After I felt the threat was gone and I returned to my body, I ran. I couldn’t believe the massacre in front of me, I had never been unhinged like that and it scared me. I heard about this place before through them, they wanted to shut it down, eradicate all the mutants here.”

Logan spoke and it startled you slightly.

“So, you were gonna be a mutant killer.”

“Not exactly. I thought I could con them into making me more powerful and running away to warn you guys, to help. I suppose I did but not in the way I intended”

You laughed, finally finding some humor in the unfortunate reality you were sitting in.

“On the way up here I was able to fight it. The urges. I think at the moment I was just so new and so frightened of what was happening to me that I spiraled out of control. I don’t think I need to feed on people I just need access to some type of blood. I was trying to train myself to focus on the animals on the journey up here. I think I can do it just with some more practice.”

You fidgeted with your fingers before looking up at Charles doubt suddenly flooding your mind.

“Do you think I’ll be of use here? Or am I just a lost cause?”

Logan piped up first.

“I think Dracula here will be of great use to us, just gotta give her some adjustment time.”

Your eyes darted up to Logan, feeling as though the comment was more than a joke but contemptuous. You could sense the amusement coming off of him knowing that he riled you up a bit. Rejection flooded your brainwaves as you thought about how cruel other mutants had been towards you. You’d think your “soulmate” would’ve behaved a little differently but it seems no extenuating circumstances would ever be granted for you.

“Logan!” Storm scolded.

“No mutant is ever a lost cause, y/n. We all can learn and be helped. We just have to be willing, which you seem more than apt to do.”

You nodded, the tears coming back to your waterline as you felt acceptance. Genuine acceptance for you, not just your mutation but for you.

“We’ll get you training by tomorrow. Time mustn’t be wasted. Logan show her to the open room across the hall from yours, I need to speak with Ororo. We’ll have y/n settled in by this evening.”

Logan cocked an eyebrow at Charles before looking at you motioning you to follow him. You stood up from the chair, following oddly close behind him, unable to control the intrinsic need to be near him.

“You always walk this close?”

“Not usually. You’re an outlier.”

He chuckled somewhat amused by your response. His gait held such confidence and it was something that you wished you had yourself. Maybe the bond wouldn’t be so bad, maybe you could learn from him, and maybe the more you learned about him and his powers the less you would have to feel about your interactions. The mansion was so massive that you thought the walk to your new home would never end. Logan broke the silence between you two right before you reached the door to your room.

“Soulmates, huh?”

“Guess so.” You felt heat rising to your face somewhat embarrassed by the admission even though it was true.

“Pretty cute for a killer.”

You were stunned. You were at such a loss that your mouth opened and closed searching hopelessly for words that would never form. Logan smirked at your silence and turned around to walk into his room.

“If you need anything just come knock. If I’m not there I’m sure you can sniff me out.”

You shook your head, finding the way that he spoke to you unbelievable but you also couldn’t deny that you found it somewhat humorous. You were glad that he was able to make light of something that you were so hardened about. Turning around to enter your room, you were met with a bare dorm. Sheets and simple furniture you were determined to make it look more like home during your time here. Lying down on the bed you stared at the ceiling taking in all of the colors around amazed by the simplest of hues.

~*~

You adjusted quite nicely, acclimating to the rules of the X-men relatively easily. They had simulated training which helped you hone in on your new abilities and unleash them when necessary. You were careful not to overexert yourself so you could limit your blood intake but oftentimes you needed to satiate the hunger in the dead of night when no one could be the wiser, running out into the trees and finding small animals to feed on, a deer if you were lucky.

You didn’t feel so ashamed anymore and you honestly felt lucky for the first time in your life. You felt like you had a family, a home, but most importantly that you belonged. Walking in the front door, you were carrying a bulk of grocery bags in both of your hands. You finally had the time to purchase some items for your room. As you pushed through the door, Logan happened to be walking down the hall and made his way over to you holding his hand out to grab some of the bags.

“Jesus, you know you can ask for help around here.”

“Didn’t wanna bother anyone. I also didn’t think I was gonna buy so much shit.” You laughed. “It’s all going in my room if you wanna follow me.”

“Think I’ll just stand here and hold them actually.”

You smiled and walked to your room with Logan not far behind. As you opened your door you dropped all the bags at the foot of your bed relieved to have the weight off of your fingers. Logan did the same before placing a hand on his hip and looking around the room.

“You want some help putting this stuff up?”

“That’d actually be great, thank you Lo–Logan, sorry.”

“Y’can call me Lo, bub. Call me whatever you want.”

You felt meek in his presence but were ultimately glad that he gave you permission for a nickname. The two of you had grown fairly close with one another over the last few months and you were elated. There was something so pure and unfeigned about the connection that was forming between you two that you forgot about all the horrors of a soulmate. You were more than overjoyed to have found your other half and them not be fearful of you, even though you tried to seem nonchalant about your feelings.

You were seen by Logan you were just trying to find a way to fully see him. He was hard to crack but as the days went by he was loosening up more and more and it seemed like you were privy to sides of him no one else was. There were urges within you that were becoming harder to control and the urge to bond with Logan was difficult to ignore. There was this innate hunger that was growing within you and you knew it was a partial side effect of the experimentation but you also understood the possible danger you would be even without the upgrade in your powers.

When you looked at him, an insatiable hunger caped your entire being and you wanted nothing more than to have him your way. To make him need you the way you needed him. To incapacitate him with desire. You wanted to watch him dissolve into nothing underneath you and dominate your body with the next breath.

You watched his muscles stretch and relax delicately underneath his skin as he grabbed the items out of your bags, holding them up to inspect before laying them on your bed waiting for direction from you. The only direction that clouded your mind was how you could get him to lay you on the bed. Your brain fogged with desire; you had no shame as your eyes stayed fixated on him.

“Take a picture it’ll last longer.”

“I think I prefer the real-life option.” You smiled at him and you lost the meekness that you felt earlier. Something settled in your bones while he was standing in your room with you that let you breathe a little easier. Logan was safe, protective, and yours whether he liked it or not. You tried to hide the verity of your emotions but Logan had caught on within the first few weeks of spending time with you. He just preferred the entertainment of making you squirm and letting you think that you had it under control.

Staring at your barren walls you were trying to envision the plan for your room before Logan’s voice brought you from your thoughts.

“The Downward Spiral? Aren’t you a little young to be a Reznor fan?”

“Never too young to enjoy music, plus aren’t you a little old to know about anything other than Cash and Big Band music?” You cocked your brow waiting for his face to fall at your jab and when it did you let out a hearty laugh.

“Where do you want it?”

“You can just roll it up, I wanna get a frame for it. Don’t wanna put holes in it. But I do need help hanging up this tablecloth. I’m gonna make it like a short curtain, you’ll see.”

Taking the lace fabric out of the bag, you stretched your arms as far as they could go before deciding that you had plenty of fabric to drape it like you wanted. Turning around to Logan you pointed to the piano stool you had shoved under the keyboard in the corner of your room.

“Can you bring that over?”

As Logan brought the stool over you grabbed a few push pins from the container on your bedside table and swaddled them in your hand. Stepping on the stool you stretched your arms to reach the center point of the wall above your window and made a preemptive hole before nestling the fabric against the wall and securing it with the pushpin.

“Why don’t you let me help you?”

“I got it! Just make sure the stool stays steady, please.”

You did have it until you didn’t.

You were getting ready to put the last push pin in and even though your shoes were gripping the stool you felt somewhat unsteady about your position. Stretching to get the last pin in the wall, the stool wobbled and you almost fell and would’ve if Logan didn’t catch you. His large hand cradled your waist while his other hand landed on the curve of your ass before swiftly moving down to your thigh and his foot stepping on the leg of the stool steadying it again.

A surge of heat blasted through your body and simmered as Logan continued to hold your body steady while you shoved the last push pin into the wall. Stepping down, you turned around to face Logan getting ready to thank him before you realized the proximity of your bodies. He towered over you, and the energy that radiated off of him was virile but oddly soft. There was a gentle heat being shared between your bodies and as you looked up at him you felt so demure beneath him, ready to just give your all to him.

There was a hesitance before you spoke, afraid that the vibration of your voice in the stillness would ruin the moment.

“Thank you.”

“Told you you should’ve let me do it.”

“But then you wouldn’t have been able to catch me. I think we both win here.”

“Oh, you like that? Me saving you?”

“Think I could get used to it, yeah.”

Your faces were inches from each other now, lips begging to be against each other but there was a restraint coming from the both of you. Like magnets on the wrong side, neither one of you wanted to give in but your bodies exhorted the desire brewing to be acted upon. Logan’s hands found purchase around your cheeks, cupping your face and breathing out a small “fuck it” before he caught your lips in an impassioned kiss. Your arms hastily wrapped around his neck, your fingers pulling at the hair on the nape of his neck. Your hands soon traced to cup his face before resting on his built chest, your fingers toying with the chest hair that peeked out of his wife beater.

A low growl rumbled in his throat as you bit his lip and pulled the skin away from the warmth of his mouth. Logan’s hand roamed down the curves of your body before guiding you to the edge of your bed where you flopped into the sheets and scooted to the middle of the bed to take in his form. There was a lecherous famine boiling in your bones and you looked at Logan with such an intensity it sent a shiver through his limbs. When your eyes grazed down his body you landed on the tent forming in his jeans and the thought of what lurked beneath the denim had your pussy clenching around air.

Logan crawled over you and placed a few kisses near the sweet spot on your neck which had you rolling into him reveling in the feeling. As he hovered over your body he brought his knee up in between your thighs pressing a delicious amount of serene pressure against your core. Logan kissed all over your body and you wanted to continue the euphoria but hesitation was eclipsing your desire. Logan could sense you retracting and scanned your features to try and understand.

“Listen, we don’t have to do anything you don’t wanna do, bub”

“No, no–I want to. It’s just.” You trailed off and Logan raised his brows waiting for you to continue.

“It’s just, if we do this, you’re bound to me until death.”

“You saw color when you saw me right?”

“Yeah.”

“So what’s the issue?”

You almost wanted to sabotage this. To tell him the worst of the worst and advise him to run away, pretend that you never existed. But you couldn’t. As much as you wanted to save yourself the heartbreak and tragedy, you feared love was painting over that panic leaving you to wrestle with the inevitable sacrifice you’d have to make.

“My mutation binds us, intertwining our fates, and weaving us into one. It’s more than soulmates it's a blood bond. It happened with my parents but their circumstances were different. They didn’t choose a life of government executions and eradicating villains, there was no imminent threat of death.”

His brow furrowed waiting for you to finish.

“It’s innate–an irresistible need to claim you, mark you as my own. It’s a frenzied scene of passion and with a soulmate, the cauldron of emotions threatens to control me. Once this is done, we are bound beyond flesh. Our minds merged, and every memory–cherished or forgotten will be laid bare. I’ll feel every pulse of your thoughts, every feeling that ravages your soul and you, mine. You will become my life.”

“I’m not really seeing a problem here, sweetheart.”

“The problem is death. With this bond, every wound, and every pain will be felt as if it were our own. Our own agonies amplified. And God forbid if one of us dies, we will feel every second of that excruciating agony. There’s no autonomy. There is no freedom in loving me and should we ever be separated I–we’d be defenseless Logan.”

You paused, finding the courage within yourself to bear the worst.

“There’s something else. My eldritch cross to bear.”

“What’s that?”

“I will slowly kill you.”

His brows unfurled and he brought his hand up to your cheek as you closed your eyes with the confession.

“Maybe I won’t. Maybe your mutation will counter mine and you’ll be able to regenerate fast enough before my influence roots. Or perhaps it’ll just take longer for you, but death came for my father and he understood the sacrifice he was making by loving my mother. He cherished and learned to love the reality he’d have with us, for us. I just don’t know if I can be that selfish.”

With tears threatening to spill you looked up at Logan, the fear you were swallowing for months now coming to the surface.

“I don’t wanna kill you, Lo.”

Logan sighed and moved to sit next to you grabbing your hand in his, tracing over the grooves of your palms.

This was it.

You found him and you lost him all within a confession of something you couldn’t control. Your powers ameliorated for destruction you were left to bathe in the aftermath and be forced to solitude once again.

Taking your hand and bringing it up to his lips to kiss, he finally spoke.

“Sweetheart, nothing can kill me.”

Your head turned to face him, your face contorted in confusion before he continued.

“And if loving you brings about my end, then God dammit it’ll be a death worth the sacrifice. I’ve lived lifetimes y/n, don’t deny yourself to save me. Ion need saving, I need you.”

Beneath the watery clouds of tears that glossed over your eyes, stars and hearts rested within them as you processed Logan’s words. There was no fear, no hate, no promise of abandonment from him, and while on instinct it scared you, you wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of eternity in his arms. This was more than seeing color, this was a testament to souls spending lifetimes to find each other, to reignite their flame and rival the brilliance of stars.

The tears that fell were no longer out of fear but admiration and joy. Moving to straddle his lap, you cradled his face memorizing his features before playing with a few strands of hair that were falling on his forehead.

“Why you crying, bub?”

“Just happy I found you.”

Placing an ardent kiss on his lips, you locked them between yours for a few moments savoring the sanctuary you had found in him. Pulling away you pecked his lips a few more times before staring into his eyes that shimmered with autumn hues of adoration for you.

“You still want me, baby?”

“Always gonna want you, sweetheart.”

You smiled before kissing him again and uttering a soft “lemme make you feel good.” before peppering kisses across his skin. The scruff of his facial hair tickled your cheek as you freckled kisses along his neck, hitting the sweet spot under his ear that had him sighing soft moans into the air. Trailing your hands down his chest they rested on his abs before you traced the outline of his belt buckle with your fingertips. Looking up at Logan you silently asked for permission before continuing your movements and he granted you sanction over him by wrapping his thumb and forefinger around your chin to bring you in for a kiss.

Rolling your hips into his, you sighed fervidly into him feeling him tent beneath you. Pulling away from his lips, you palmed your hand over the stretching denim encasing his lap and locked eyes with him. You couldn’t quite explain it but you wanted to watch every emotion of his unfold in front of you. Eyes fixated on him like a silver screen projecting your favorite film, you relied on your sense of touch to undo his belt and unbutton his jeans. Eyes falling to his chest you noticed his breathing becoming heavier as if he was holding himself back.

Snaking down his body, you rolled his pants down with you just enough so that his cock could spring free from its confinements. He was picturesque in every sense of the word. His cock was the perfect length and was nested in a bed of untamed umber hair, his tip a flesh rose color that was leaking arousal.

Licking your hand, you brought it down to wrap around his length, the tip of your thumb and middle finger barely touching and you stroked up and down. Sliding your head down to the base, you flattened your tongue and licked a fat stripe up to his tip, dribbling a bead of spit onto the head.

You looked at Logan through your lashes as you took as much of him as you could into his mouth. The sensation of your mouth wrapping around him had him gripping the sheets of your bed as you bobbed your tongue in and out of your mouth across his length. His moans slowly become more vocal, filling the atmosphere with a sexual symphony.

Low groans and strangled breaths escaped his throat as you continued to suck him off. Logan took one hand off of the sheets to gather your hair out of your face. creating a makeshift ponytail with your locks, his hand resting on your head following your movements. Sucking in your cheeks, Logan let out a groan that sent pulses to your pussy and encouraged you to bring him to his zenith.

Moving your hand in tandem with your mouth you felt him fulminate your mouth with his seed, the taste a salty piquancy of flavor. Swallowing every drop you continued to suck his orgasm out of him, his stomach caving in with zeal as you overstimulated him. Coming off of him with a pop, you wiped the corner of your mouth with your thumb before Logan pulled you in for a kiss, groaning at the taste of himself as your tongues fought for dominance.

Logan’s hands roamed the trunk of your body before landing on the swell of your breasts kneading the skin like a cat. Pulling away from your lips he rolled your bodies over so that he was on top. Ridding himself of his jeans and tank top, his nose traced the line of your pants the scent of your arousal pouring out through the fabric. Carefully unbuttoning them, he rolled them down your legs along with your underwear.

Nuzzling his nose against the fatty rise of where intimacy finds its home, he breathed in your scent a primaeval urge seizing control over him.

“Lemme take care of you.”

Logan’s hands followed the curve of your sides before situating his body in between your legs. Wrapping his hands around your hips, he swiped a few kitten licks at your center before flattening his tongue and devouring you like his last meal. The scruff of his beard tickled the inside of your thighs and the vigor with which his tongue was lapping at your petals had you rolling and writhing beneath him. You were squirming with pleasure, frantically searching for something to ground your body outside of the euphoria that was gushing through your bones.

Your hand was hesitant to rest in his hair, not wanting to ruin the perfectly sculpted duck tail, but digging your nails in the sheets wasn’t enough to steady your arousal. Giving into your resolve, your hands threaded themselves into his surprisingly soft locks, given the style. As you gripped at his tendrils, he moaned against your skin, the vibrations sending frenzied waves of pleasure through your haven.

Your moans were becoming more frequent, breathy, and low in timbre. As you came closer to your peak you began chanting Logan’s name like a prayer, desperate for salvation. Release.

It came in an electrifying wave. A rapture seizing your body at an intensity you’d never felt before. It inflamed you and you wanted nothing more than to make Logan as yours in any way possible. The sexual paroxysm that caged your being was impossible to ignore now and your body moved before your mind could resist.

You flipped your bodies again so that Logan was flat on his back. Ripping your shirt off over your head, you motioned for him to scoot back so his back would be against the headboard. Crawling over his body there was a libidinous heat running through you and it felt like something else was controlling your movements. You were just watching from the passenger's seat. Straddling his legs, you perched yourself over his cock holding it at the base.

“Inescapably, eternally, you’re bound to me.” Your voice was dripping in seduction but you said it almost as a warning, a bitter reminder of what was to come and before you had the chance to drift your mind elsewhere Logan’s voice brought you back.

“Wouldn’t want it any other way.”

You kissed him, smiling into it before you pulled away gasping at the stretch of his cock while you lowered yourself on him. The stretch was ambrosian, your honeyed hole sucking him in greedily as you became flesh with the base, his pubes tickling the tip of your clit. You bounced on him with vehement hunger, your sexual desire throwing you into a zealous delirium. The feeling of his cock stretching you out was something you fantasized for weeks; your imagination did little justice for the actual feeling.

Giving your legs a break, you moved to rock your hips against his, stimulating your precious bundle of nerves against him. Wrapping your arms around his neck you licked a stripe up the side of his neck before letting your head rest in the crevice where his shoulder and neck met. His large, calloused hands held your hips and helped rock you against him, occasionally detouring up your back and gripping at your skin.

It was like the veins in his neck were screaming out your name and your fangs began to tingle in your mouth, a sharp pain shooting through your gums. You let the tip of one of your fangs poke at his skin, a guttural moan leaving his throat before the craving of the bond, of the feed eclipsed any trace of logic within you. Fangs bared, cock still sheathed in your cherubic cavern, you sink your teeth into his neck. The intoxicating taste of salty iron washed over your tongue and slid down your throat covetously.

You need not drain him to the point of death, but just enough to memorize the taste of him for the years to come. Logan moaned out his nails digging into your skin before flipping you on your back. In the movement, you removed your teeth from his neck, carmine staining your lips and the tips of your teeth.

“Thought you didn’t wanna kill me, baby?”

“Thought you couldn’t die.”

In the prurient haze you were in, the harrowing anxiety from before had vanished, replaced by a fleeting sense of primacy. That feeling was soon wilted as you were shadowed by the dominance of the man above you.

“I’m gonna fuck that right out of you, sweetheart.”

Swollen with erotic pride you laughed, a wordless challenge for him to conquer. Lining his tip back with your entrance, the stretch was more noticeable on your back and you could feel his tip pressing gentle whispers against your cervix. You were rolling your hips to meet his thrusts and Logan wrapped his arms around your body holding your flesh against his, the sweat on your bodies plastering you to one another in a heinous display of desire.

His thrusts became urgent like it would be the last time he was inside of you. His moans were louder and the heat from his breaths was leaving a sheen of condensation on the crest of your ear.

“Fill me up, Logan. I wanna feel all of you.”

You dug your nails into the skin of his back leaving deep red trails in their wake. Wrapping your legs around his waist your hole preemptively squeezed around him as you felt your orgasm build in your lower half.

“You’re fuckin mine, y/n. Never gettin’ rid of me now.”

His hips stuttered against you before you felt his balls pulsing against your puffy lips as he flooded your grotto with his thick, alabaster seed. The warmth of his cum filling your pussy left goosebumps to flutter across your skin and he continued fucking you through his orgasm. He overstimulated himself until he felt you pulse around his length, indulging in your juices spilling down the shaft of his cock.

Pulling out of you, you quickly closed your legs not wanting to get up just yet to rid yourself of his cum. Logan rolled onto his back and you turned on your side placing your hand on his chest before looking up at him ardently. There wasn’t a flaw about him and your mind began to imagine what the rest of your life would look like. You were about to fall victim to your thoughts before Logan’s voice brought you back to mind.

“So when do I start dying?”

You slapped his chest lightly.

“Shut up.”

“I’m serious, when do I start dying.”

“Hopefully never, bub. Hopefully never. Whenever you do, I won’t be far behind.”

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hughiecampbelle · 2 months

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The Boys Preference: Having The Same Abilities As Wolverine

Requested: Heyy! Can I request a the boys preference where reader is a supe who pretty much has wolverine's powers? Ty!! - @ghostlyaccurate

Requested: Hii can I request the boys pref x female wolverine? <33 - anon

A/N: Reminder my loves! Everything is written as gender neutral, I don't write specifically freader or mreader. I hope you like it! I am working 100% from Wolverines Wikipedia page lol since I forget most of his powers. Feedback is always appreciated 💜💜💜

Butcher finds your abilities both disgusting and impressive. Your super sight, smell, etc. are really helpful in certain situations. He jokingly calls you their own personal Tek Knight, which you shut down immediately. What's disgusting is when your claws come out, breaking through the skin of your knuckles. There's a lot of blood. There's a lot of pain even with your healing. And something about them just freaks him out. You jokingly try to poke him with them, touch him with them, and though he'd never admit it, he absolutely hates the feeling. There's just something wrong about them that he can't pinpoint or describe. They're helpful for sure and watching you use them is always gory, he'd just like for them to go away as quickly as possible.

Hughie finds you fascinating. The healing and the claws are always cool, but it's the fact that you're so much older than all of them, so much more experienced, and yet you age so little. Because you're body heals so well, you age at a slower rate than the rest of the world. While that's not totally new for Supes, he's always interested in hearing about your life. You have so much knowledge, so many more experiences, so many lives lived before this mess took over. You find it the least interesting part of your abilities, but Hughie's always had an appreciation for the underappreciated. He loves to listen to you talk about the past, what the world was like, what Vought and The Seven were like. It wasn't always this fucked, at least that's the conclusion he comes to as you talk. It was fucked, it was a mess, but the introduction of Homelander really set in stone this future.

Annie is your confidant. The healing factor has saved your and others lives countless times, but everyone forgets you can still feel pain. Long after your body has put itself back together, the phantom pain lingers. It's excruciating and, secretly, you live in fear of being torn apart. Days and weeks later, you move as if you're still broken. You'll wake up, confused for a moment, expecting to be torn limb from limb, before you come to your senses. Even your claws leave your hands raw, arthritic. You know Annie thinks about that more than anyone else. You told her one night about the pain and since then she's always been aware, quietly asking you if you're alright. Sometimes the pain goes away in a few hours, other times it takes weeks. It all depends on the severity. You try not to complain, knowing you must sound like a broken record, but she doesn't see it that way.

M.M., kind of like Butcher, is weirded out by your claws. He doesn't mind the healing or the heightened senses. For the most part, those things are hidden. It's the claws he gets the heebie jeebies from. You poke fun at him because of this. Out of all the Supe abilities you could have gotten, claws aren't the oddest thing you could have developed. He is reminded of Webweavers abilities and that puts things into perspective for a little while. He didn't trust you in the beginning. It was hard to show him you weren't just another Supe hopped up on V. You're a lot older than everyone, you've experienced more, you're wiser than he gives you credit for. He learns to trust you because of your level head. In situations where other people would be losing their shit, you're calm, cool, and collected. It isn't your abilities that make him befriend you, it's the person underneath them.

Frenchie both loves and hates your abilities. He finds your claws fascinating. Every time you use them he's left in awe. He loves watching you use them, the way you can hide them and bring them out when they're least expecting it. He doesn't find them weird or odd like his friends. They're amazing. He hates, though, that your heightened senses are basically a lie detector test he fails every time. You know when he's been drinking, smoking, getting high. You try not to make a big deal about it, but you do talk to him about it in private. You know when he's lying, though any non-Supe could figure it out when they learn all his tells. He's not as good as he thinks he is at lying. He's always amazed with your stamina, too. It's something a lot of people tend to overlook about your powers, but he doesn't.

Kimiko and you bond effortlessly. Your abilities are so similar and yet so different. Together you're a fantastic duo, unstoppable. She likes touching your claws, though hates the way they have to come out. She knows what it's like, to have to sacrifice yourself, your body, for the greater good. She knows what it's like to wake up confused and, for a moment, feeling as if you're missing parts of yourself. The two of you work together effortlessly and find a lot of humor in your abilities whereas everyone else sees a severed limb of broken bones, you can see just how silly the body is, how fragile and easily it both breaks and repairs itself. She loves your heightened senses and always tells her what you can find out: M.M. got a new chapstick (strawberry), Butcher ate something with peppers, Annie got Hughie a new cologne, etc.

#requested #preference #headcanon #billy butcher #billy butcher x reader #hughie campbell #hughie campbell x reader #annie january #annie january x reader #mm #mm x reader #marvin milk #marvin milk x reader #frenchie #frenchie x reader #kimiko miyashiro #kimiko miyashiro x reader #the boys #the boys x reader

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sylusjinwoon · 2 months

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{ 204 }

of painful auras and cute boys.

university au

jinwoo sung x fem.reader

there was an incredibly cute student who was in your class, and you could not seem to look away from him. each time you attended your morning classes, you would take note of how diligent he remained, always sitting near the front row while writing / typing out his notes on his slender laptop.

you assumed that he was a freshman like you, since his presence was not quite known by the upperclassman-

however, that didn't stop students across all classes from admiring him. from what little you gathered about him, you knew that his name was sung jinwoo, and he had plans of pursuing a degree in criminology after completing the required general education courses for the first few semesters. and despite how boring these classes were, each and every one of the professors were pleasantly surprised at how much he excelled in each and every one of them.

by the end of the fall semester, jinwoo had already reached the dean's list at the college, earning quite a few envious glares from his peers (which unfortunately, included you as well). it was odd, but, through the classes that you shared with him, you became aware of how his drive to succeed seemed to be taken up to the next level.

even if it was mildly infuriating to you, at the same time, you found a great source of motivation in him. throughout your high school years, you managed to scrape by with average grades (making plenties of c's and b's here and there, with true a's coming once in a blue moon)-

but seeing how devoted jinwoo was to his studies made you want to change your outlook on your university life. after classes, you would usually catch sight of jinwoo settled within the library with his textbooks spread across the tables as his hands diligently scribbled some notes within the confines of his notebook. he never seemed to carry that typical laziness seen within most freshman students after experiencing their first few weeks of college-

and you greatly admired him for it.

so... using your crush role model as your sole inspiration, you began to change your study habits and did your best to work just as hard as jinwoo. you would find a quiet corner in the middle of the library, (making sure you kept a safe distance from said role model and motivation), as you began your studies for the day. your eyes would glance up at him every so often, using his focused expression as a means to further motivate and inspire you to work harder.

your session starts out normal enough, with you comparing your written lecture notes to what the textbook chapter says. but the more you kept reading your textbook, the more you slowly began to feel a slight ache taking over the forefront of your brain. you shut your eyes for a few minutes, counting down the seconds that make up a minute by tens before reopening your eyes-

only to realize that your vision had gotten considerably worse.

for some reason, your eyes could only see weblike illusions, further marring your vision as you let out a soft moan in response. due to what you knew was an aura hindering your vision, you could feel the familiar pulse against your temple coupled along with the wave of nausea.

the lights used to brighten the library suddenly became too bright, making it painful for you as your breathing slowly became labored. the pain felt all across your head just kept mounting, becoming even more excruciating as you let out a soft moan, trying to relieve the ache by massaging at your temples, but to no avail. you were completely rendered helpless from the severity of your migraine, uncertain of what to do as hot tears were felt spilling from your eyes.

"hey, are you okay?" a gentle and calm voice calls out to you, but you could only manage a tiny whimper in response.

"no... i'm not okay... i think i'm having a bad migraine right now."

you hear someone, (a young man), click his tongue in response to your admission and try to meet his gaze, only to have that same aura place what looked like a static filter across your eyes, keeping the boy's identity hidden from you.

you listen as he lets out a hum before gathering your textbooks and notebooks together, placing them all neatly inside of your backpack along with your pencil case. "come with me, i'll help you."

clinging to his arms, you try to walk beside him, only to run the side of your hips against one of the tables as it made you wince in response. a rich chuckle was heard close to your ear when a smooth voice tells you, "hang on tight."

not even bothering to wait for your reply, you found yourself picked up by this mystery boy, gasping as you tried to fight against the powerful vertigo that courses through you. "w-whoa! d-did you just pick me up?"

"i had to... i couldn't have such a vulnerable girl continue hurting herself when she clearly can't see." amusement was heard within the richness of his voice, and had you not been feeling so nauseated and sick, you would have protested against his playful words.

with your vision still ruined by such a powerful aura, you could only put your trust within this perfect stranger as he carried you out of the library and back onto campus grounds. with your eyes clenched shut to avoid the intensity of the sunlight, you felt him walking to a more secluded area, hearing the grass crunching beneath him with each step that he takes before settling you down beneath what felt like an oak tree.

the shadows provided by such large branches was enough to help ease the ache on your eyes. your savior ends up joining you, kneeling down close to you as you felt the way he brushes back your hair before gently massaging at your forehead. at first, his touch makes you let out a soft hiss in response, but the more he kept caressing at your head, the less pain you felt-

like he was purposely soothing your migraine away with his gentle touches.

your eyes go wide, finally seeing the way the static clears away from your vision as you came face to face with sung jinwoo himself. you begin to tremble at the mere sight of him, tilting your head slightly at how his eyes seemed to glow a faint purple while he kept his hands against your head.

he sees your gaze and the way your lips remain parted for him, smiling down at you before removing his hand from your forehead. "do you feel better now?" jinwoo asks you with a gentle smile, and seeing such a beautiful sight up close was enough to make your heart pound.

you gingerly touch at your forehead and temple, the searing headache finally gone along with the sense of nausea. your expression was a bewildered one, yet it was filled with gratitude when you thanked him.

"t-thank you. i feel... so much better now... h-how did you do that?"

jinwoo simply gives you a tender smile and a wink, "sorry, that's going to be a secret for now. can't have you knowing everything about me too soon... because how else are you going to keep chasing after me?"

his teasing words make you lose all of your senses, for not even a single, coherent word could come from your parted lips. as you were left practically gaping at him, jinwoo hums before standing back to his full height, placing both hands within the pocket of his jeans while looking down at you.

you remain silent, seeing the way jinwoo's gaze seemed to flicker with an unknown emotion before becoming darker-

as if he wanted to look within the very depths of your soul.

the sheer intensity of his gaze was enough to make a sudden heat rush to your cheeks in response. yet as soon as that intense expression appears within jinwoo's stormy grey eyes, it disappears the next moment. a gentle smile paints his handsome features when he offers a hand to you, "would you like to join me for some coffee? i feel like you deserve a treat after suffering from such a bad migraine."

you were still unable to speak, simply nodding at him as you placed your hand within his, allowing jinwoo to help you up. he grabs both his and yours respective backpacks with little complaint, simply keeping his fingertips interlocked with yours as he walked with you to the nearest cafe.

as he walks with you, jinwoo could see shadowy wisps dancing around him excitedly, speaking to him:

"ah, it is such a great honor to be in the presence of our queen once more... congratulations on finding her, my liege."

and despite how you were unaware of jinwoo's beloved soldiers talking amongst themselves, he could hear them perfectly while letting out a secretive smile in response, giving your hands a gentle squeeze as proof of the happiness that he felt at being able to find you in this lifetime.

a.n. - i am so sorry; i still have the worst block for jinwoo,,, but i hope you readers will enjoy this little drabble 🥹

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

#sung jinwoo x reader #jinwoo sung x reader #sung jinwoo x you #jinwoo sung x you #solo leveling x reader #.stories

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azrielslittleslut · 3 months

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"The Lost Queen"- Chapter 2

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: A magical incident causes Azriel to unexpectedly tumble through a portal into modern-day Earth. Confused and injured, he is discovered by a compassionate human woman with a hidden past. She takes care of him and helps him discover the complexities of the modern world, completely unaware of who she truly is. Meanwhile, Azriel struggles with his conflicting desires: his duty to the Night Court and his growing love for the woman who saved him.

Their journey unfolds amidst ancient prophecies and the looming threat in Prythian. As they uncover the truth about forces conspiring against them, they must confront their deepest fears and make choices that will change their lives and the world forever.

Warnings: language, angsty, az is going through it, small mention of alcohol at the end

Word Count: 4.1k

series masterlist

a/n: comment a “🗡️” if you find the HOFAS easter egg..

Enjoy!

Azriel was soaring through the night sky, his wings carrying him high above the city of Velaris. The stars above were unusually bright, and he had to squint his eyes against the radiance. He felt an overwhelming sense of calm wash over him, and for the first time in his long life, he felt free. Free from his responsibilities and the darkness that seemed to cling to him since his childhood.

The stars began to dim, and Azriel banked as they started falling from the sky. He cried out as he felt a sharp pain shoot through his wings, and when he looked back, he saw them tattered and shredded.

He plummeted to the ground, his heartbeat loud in his ears. He crashed into a thick forest, the trees slowing down his descent. He hit the ground with a loud thud, his body screaming in agony. He laid back against the earth, gasping for air, unable to cry for help.

In his peripheral vision, he saw the figure of a woman walking toward him. She was shrouded in light, standing tall with the air of regal grace and ancient power. Her hair blew around her head, concealing her face from him. The female had massive wings, shimmering with faint iridescence. In her hand, she held a massive double-edged sword. He wasn’t able to get a good look at the weapon because his vision was blurry.

In a soft, lilting voice, he heard her say, “Wake up, shadowsinger. Bring me home.”

Azriel’s eyes shot open, and he swore he could still hear that voice ringing in his ears. It was the sweetest voice he had ever heard, and he very much longed to return to the dream to see that female. There was something about her that called to him, but he couldn’t put it in words.

He took a deep breath, wincing at the sharp pain in his ribs and back. His entire body throbbed with pain, and each breath brought a fresh wave of agony. Slowly, he ran his hands along the surface beneath him, trying to find the strength to sit up. He paused his movements as memories began to wash over him like a flood.

The Whispering Woods, the otherworldly power, the Moonstone Amulet, the strange language, his body feeling like it was being torn apart. Truth-Teller falling from his hands.

Despite everything that had happened, Azriel quickly moved his hand to his thigh, running his finger over the sheath strapped there. The empty sheath.

Azriel closed his eyes as he let out a harsh breath. “Not again,” he mumbled. He moved his hands up, bracing them against whatever the hell he was lying on. He pushed, trying with all of his strength to sit up. He bit back his scream as his muscles gave out and searing pain shot up his arms, down his back, and across his ribs.

He was over five hundred years old. He had been in countless battles, tearing down enemies left and right. He had been tortured and maimed and had experienced excruciating pain.

Yet here he was, unable to even sit up. His body felt drained, weak, and powerless. He raised his hands, looking at his siphons. They were still strapped there, but they were empty, their usual blue glow extinguished. Through the black glass, he could see his broken reflection, and his heart clenched. He willed his power into them, but nothing happened. It was like trying to grasp smoke; his magic was… gone.

Azriel tried to move his wings, flexing his back muscles. He felt nothing as he strained, as if his wings weren’t even there to begin with. Panic rising, he slowly turned his head to the side, and all thoughts left his mind as he looked.

Where the fuck were his wings?

They were gone, and he felt his heart sink at the phantom sensation along his spine where his wings should be. A cold dread washed over him as he stared at the empty space. His chest tightened, and a wave of nausea hit him.

Desperately, he called on his shadows, crying out in that nonverbal language he had taught himself while he was locked in a dark dungeon. His voice was a silent scream, echoing in his mind, pleading for the comfort of his shadows. They had always answered him in his time of need, but now… nothing. The silence was deafening, a dark void where the familiar whisper and caress of his shadows should be.

No wings, no siphons, no shadows… no Truth-Teller. The realization struck him like a physical blow, and he crumbled inwardly.

Useless. Helpless. He had failed them.

Azriel’s heart began to beat so fast he thought it was going to leap right out of his chest. For a few moments, all he could do was lay there as panic flooded his veins, clouding his mind. His vision went dark, and he felt himself begin to fall back down that tunnel of unconsciousness.

“No,” he groaned, his voice a ragged whisper, as he willed himself to stay awake. His body screamed for rest, but he forced his eyes to stay open, his mind to stay focused. Something really strange was happening, and he wasn’t going to figure it out by being comatose. He needed to stay alert to understand this bizarre and unsettling reality. The world around him felt alien, everything distorted, every shadow unfamiliar.

He started to take deep breaths, slowing down his breathing. He willed himself into a cool calm, the type of calm he had trained himself to fall into before a battle when nerves and fear threatened to overwhelm him.

Although he wasn’t about to step onto a field of slaughter, he had the sinking feeling he was about to enter a whole new battleground. The air around him was charged with an unfamiliar energy. This was no ordinary challenge; it was something far more sinister and unpredictable.

Since he couldn’t move, he relied on his senses, which still seemed to be strong. He could smell damp earth, laced with something sweet, like vanilla mixed with jasmine. The scent wrapped around him, calming him enough to stay focused. Underneath, there was the unmistakable aroma of damp earth and a hint of something briny, reminiscent of fish or marine life.

The first clue: he was somewhere next to water.

He tried to think of all the bodies of water in Prythian as he continued his exploring, running his hand along the surface he was lying on. It was soft and plush, the sweet scent clinging to every fiber. Realization dawned on him with a small shock: he was in a bed.

The second clue: he was in a very dark bedroom.

Azriel continued his search, contemplating who in the world would let the Spymaster of the Night Court into their bedroom. He squinted into the darkness, straining to listen to the sounds around him. Faintly, he heard what sounded like horns in the distance, their tones unlike anything he had ever heard. A screeching noise mingled with the murmur of voices speaking in that unfamiliar language he had encountered in the Whispering Woods. It wasn’t the familiar language of Prythian, but somehow, he understood it.

Third clue: he had no idea where the hell he was.

Azriel was about to go against all of his training and scream for help. He was lost and confused; a sensation foreign to him. He had just opened his mouth to yell when the bedroom door clicked open, revealing the frame of a female, outlined by the dim light behind her.

She stepped into the room, and Azriel was overwhelmed by that scent again. Her scent, he realized. He fought back the small feeling of panic at the realization that he was injured and helpless in a strange female’s bed in a place he didn’t know or recognize.

What if she had been sent to assassinate him? The Mother only knew how many people wanted him dead. He was in bad shape, so she might just get away with it.

At this point, Az just hoped the female would let him live long enough for him to ask how she accomplished such a feat.

She softly padded over to the nightstand beside the bed, as if she were trying to be quiet. Azriel winced slightly as one of the floorboards creaked loudly beneath her.

For an assassin, she had horrible stealth skills.

He heard a click, and bright light filled the room from a small object on the nightstand. He lay there, totally motionless, praying to the gods that maybe she was blind and wouldn’t see him. She turned to him, and all hope for blindness was lost as she jumped back slightly, taking him in.

Azriel didn’t notice that too much, though. Instead, he found himself staring at her, and his heart stuttered as he came face to face with the most beautiful female he had ever seen. She stood before him, a vision of allure and grace. Her features were a study of delicate beauty- full lips, expressive eyes, and soft hair that he desperately wanted to run his fingers through. Oddly enough, looking at her, he was reminded somehow of the female in his dream, the one with the sword.

The dream female had not been human, though, while this one was. She had the unmistakable air of mortality wrapped around her, but there was something there. Despite her human appearance, Azriel could sense the strength and resilience surrounding her, almost transcending the ordinary.

For a moment, Azriel found himself captivated by her, his thoughts going into dangerous territory. He inwardly chastised himself, forcing his focus back to the situation at hand. His eyes raked down her body, looking for weapons she could use to finish him off. He stopped when he saw the small tray of food she held in her hands. His mouth watered at the amazing smell wafting from it. It was rich and savory, wrapped in the scent of spices that were unfamiliar to him.

The female laughed softly, and Azriel’s chest tightened at the lovely sound. “Good,” she said gently, her voice carrying a compassionate warmth that contrasted with the gravity of the situation. “You’re awake.”

-------

For a few moments, the two of you just stared at each other in awkward silence. You took the opportunity to look the man over, noting the way his golden-brown cheeks flushed as he looked up at you from the bed.

Your bed.

Of course, this wasn’t the first time a man had been in your bed. But it was the first time a man who looked like him had been in it. He was... very handsome. He was tall and lean, and you could see the outline of his muscles through that tight leather clothing. His black hair fell just over his brow, curling slightly from the Louisiana humidity. Full lips, gracious jawline, elegant throat. Hazel eyes that seemed to glow in the dimness. You swallowed as you felt a strange warm sensation flooding your chest.

The bedroom was so silent you could hear the clock ticking on the wall, save for the sound of your rapid breathing. “How are you feeling?” you ask quietly, trying to end the awkwardness. This whole situation was uncomfortable, but you would do your best to act normal.

The man said nothing. He blinked at you, and you watched as he squinted against the light. “Oh, I’m sorry,” you said, reaching down with your free hand to turn the lamp down a little.

He watched in silence as you completed the task, something like confusion gracing his handsome features. His eyes met yours in the dim light, and you felt suddenly naked under his gaze.

You felt heat bloom onto your cheeks, and you hastily looked away, setting the tray down next to his body. “I brought you some food. You should eat something.” You stirred the contents inside of the bowl, the spoon clinking against the glass. “It’s leftovers, but it’s warm. I did cook it though, but it’s my mom’s famous red beans and rice recipe.” You clamped your mouth shut, stopping your nervous rambling.

Still, the man said nothing in response. He looked down at the food in the bowl, sniffing lightly. He pursed his lips, settling himself back more into the pillows. More silence followed, and you were growing restless.

The dude might be hot, but he sure as hell didn’t talk that much.

You cleared your throat. “My name is Y/N,” you said, your voice firm. “I don’t know how much you remember, but I found you floating face-down in the bayou. I thought you were dead.” You laughed softly but quickly stopped as he narrowed his eyes at you. You continued, “I think you hit your head pretty hard, and from my examinations, it appears you have at least two or three broken ribs. Your ankle looks swollen, too, but I don’t think it’s broken.”

It had taken all of your strength to carry him inside. You had hauled his pretty much lifeless body across the gravel driveway, up the stairs, and across your living room floor. Then, you had lifted him onto your bed, cringing slightly as the grime, blood, and swamp water on him soiled your clean sheets. In the process of it all, you had dropped him a few times, banged his head once or twice against the stairs, and hadn’t been able to catch him fast enough when he slid off the bed at first.

You questioned whether you had caused him more harm than the original incident itself.

“I probably should have taken you to a hospital, but as a nurse, I assure you I examined you thoroughly, just like any emergency room would.” You had spent at least forty-five minutes looking him over. After making sure his vitals were stable, you assessed his body, looking for anything life-threatening. You had done your best to clean the strange cuts along his face and neck, wondering what the hell had happened for him to end up in such a state.

He would probably live, but… “I wasn’t able to look all of you over. I wasn’t able to get your clothes off.” You had been so confused at the different laces and buttons on that leather outfit. You had eventually given up, hoping that you weren’t sealing his fate by skipping that.

You wouldn’t admit the real reason why you had stopped taking his clothes off. You wouldn’t let yourself think about what that body of his probably looked like under them.

The male sighed. It was the first sound that he had made, and you froze. He looked at you as he said, “Where am I?” His voice was deep, low, and dark.

It was sexy as fuck.

You didn’t have time to wonder at that. The way he said the words caught your attention. He had the strangest accent… You have met many people from all walks of life, but you’d never come across that one before. It was lyrical and elegant, carrying a musical quality.

You took a deep breath. “You’re in New Orleans,” you said slowly. He must have hit his head hard. Damn it, he probably had a concussion, all thanks to those stupid stairs. Or the door. Or the floor.

His eyebrows creased. “New Or-leans?” he asked, sounding out the words as if he’d never heard them before, like they were new to his vocabulary. You were captivated by the way he said the words, drawn in by the way his vowels elongated and consonants softened.

Your mind scrambled as you tried to think of all the places on Earth he could have come from.

“Yes. New Orleans, Louisiana,” you said cautiously. “You’re in America.”

He started to shake his head, wincing slightly. “I don’t know where that is. How far is that from Velaris?”

You frowned at him. “Velaris? Isn’t that a city in California?” How the hell did he end up in a Louisiana bayou?

He looked at you with wide eyes. “Cali-“ he cut himself off, breathing hard. His strong neck muscles strained as he said, “Where am I?” His voice was nothing short of a snarl, and you took a small step back at the sound of it.

“I just told you! You are in New Orleans. I found you in the water and brought you inside of my house.” You stepped forward again, leaning down until your face was mere inches from his. You had dealt with angry patients before, and though this guy was a tad bit scary, you wouldn’t cower. “And if you are going to yell at me like that, I’ll be more than happy to call the cops to get you off my hands!”

Your outburst must have stunned him because his hazel eyes softened. “I am sorry,” he said, his voice tight with something that sounded like regret. “I just don’t... I don’t understand what happened.”

You had yelled at a patient, which is something you had never done before. You looked at him with compassionate eyes, willing your bedside manner to return. “I know, I’m sorry for yelling.” You sat down beside him on the bed, careful not to move him too much. “Do you remember your name, at least?”

He let out a soft laugh. “Azriel.”

You smiled down at him. “Azriel,” you said, loving the way his name sounded on your lips. “I’m Y/N.”

“I know. I heard you the first time you said it,” he said, that harshness creeping back into his deep voice.

So he was hot and a little bit of a smartass.

Great.

You reached down to grab the bowl, lifting it to him. “You need to eat. You’re pretty banged up, and food will help you heal.” You reached down to grab the spoon, intending to force-feed him if necessary.

Azriel’s harsh response stopped you. “I’m not eating. It could be poisoned.”

The nerve of this guy! You slammed the bowl back down onto the tray, causing the spoon to rattle. “And why the hell would I want to poison you?”

He raised a brow, his hazel eyes darkening slightly. “You tell me.”

Asshole.

“If I wanted you dead, I would have just left you in the water as alligator food.”

He looked up at the ceiling. “Maybe you should have left me.” His voice was oddly distant.

You huffed out a soft laugh, trying to break the tension. “You know, you were a lot easier to deal with when you were unconscious.”

His gaze snapped back to you, and you felt your skin tingle with the intensity of his gaze. There was something… strange about him. Something different and mysterious seemed to lurk beneath the surface of his body. “If I’m so difficult,” he said, his tone flat and almost challenging, “maybe you should just kill me. I’d be off your hands then.”

You shook your head as a wave of frustration washes through you. “And deprive myself of the pleasure of your sweet company?” You leaned forward, so close you could count each of his eyelashes. “Besides, I didn’t save you just to end your life now.”

A flicker of surprise crossed his features, quickly masked by his usual guarded expression. “You don’t know what you’re getting into,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Hell, I don’t even know what I’m getting into. Something strange is going on.”

You felt a chill run down your spine, but you kept pressing. “Lucky for you, strange is my middle name. Let me help you, Azriel,” you said, softening your features to let him know that he was safe here.

You couldn’t let him know you had every intention of taking him with you to the hospital so he could get his head looked at.

Azriel turned his head to the side, his matted black hair draping across the pillow. Something that looked like disgust filled his face. “Is that really your middle name?”

He didn’t know where he was, and he didn’t understand figurative speech. He really needed to go to the doctor.

You opened your mouth to respond, but the shrill sound of your alarm clock blared through the room, cutting you off. “Shit,” you grumbled. You had to be at work in an hour.

At the loud sound, Azriel jumped, groaning in pain at the movement. “What is that?” he demanded, his voice edged with alarm and irritation.

You quickly reached over to click the button to turn it off. “My alarm clock,” you explained, noting the puzzled look on his face. Had he never seen one before? “I have to get dressed for work.”

He looked at you with eyes so wide, you could see the whites around the hazel. “You’re leaving?” he asked, a small hint of desperation filling his voice.

You stood from the bed, aiming for the dresser in the corner of the bedroom. You rummaged through it, settling on your favorite pair of cobalt blue scrubs. You turned around to look at Azriel, and his eyes flickered as he looked at the bundle of clothes in your hands.

“Believe it or not,” you said as you walked towards the bathroom, “you’re not my only patient.” He let out a breath but said nothing. No, he just stared at the ceiling like it held the secrets of the world. “Plus, I plan on taking you with me. A doctor needs to take a look at you.”

Azriel froze, his body going rigid. “Doctor?” he asked, his voice tinged with confusion and curiosity. “Is that like a healer?”

You paused, trying to find the words to explain it. “Yeah, a doctor is a kind of healer, I guess. But they use science and medicine, not magic.”

Something you said caused him to jump. “Magic?” he asked with excitement, his eyes lighting up. “Is there anyone with magic here? I need to see them. Immediately.”

What the…

You stared at him in disbelief. “Are you serious?” You shook your head at him as worry filled your chest. “No, we don’t have magic here.” You paused for a moment, watching him carefully. “And before you ask, we don’t have magical healers, enchantments, or anything like that either.”

Azriel’s face fell, the excitement in his eyes twinkling out. “No magic,” he muttered, almost to himself. He looked lost, as if the very foundation of his reality had been ripped from beneath him.

“You should rest,” you said, turning back to the bathroom door. “I’ll be dressed soon, and then we can leave.”

Azriel said nothing. He was just lying there, his eyes vacant and distant. He gripped your sheets in his scarred fingers as if they were the anchor in a stormy sea. It almost looked as if he truly didn’t belong here. He had this… aura about him, something unusual and odd.

The sight of him made your heart skip a beat, and the tightness in his jaw told you that you had lost him, that this conversation was over.

Ah, back to the silent treatment then.

Numbly, you walked into the bathroom and got to work getting dressed. As you pulled on your clothes, your mind raced as you thought back through what had happened over the past few hours. You had an injured man with a weird accent lying in your bed. He claimed to have no idea where he was, and it seemed like you would have better luck getting a wall to talk than him.

You glanced at yourself in the mirror, grimacing at the dark circles under your eyes. You had barely slept and playing nursemaid to Mr. Mysterious in your bedroom hadn’t helped matters.

Coffee. You needed coffee.

You had just reached up to turn off the bathroom lights when your phone rang. You picked it up, frowning as you read an unknown number flash across the screen. You answered it and raised it to your ear.

“Hello?” you asked cautiously, wondering who the hell would be calling you this early in the morning.

“Hello, Y/N,” came a velvety smooth voice on the other end. “My name is Serena Rousseau. You don’t know me, but I know you.”

Your grip tightened on the phone, irritation rising. “Listen, lady,” you began, trying to keep your tone controlled despite your frustration. “I’ve had a shitty morning. Go talk to someone else about their car’s extended warranty.”

The woman on the other end of the call let out a smoky laugh. “No, my dear. You misunderstand me.” She paused for a long moment, and you lowered the phone from your ear, intending to end the call.

Her next words stopped you in your tracks. Her voice was loud and clear as she said, “Tell the male from Prythian that I saw him fall through the portal.”

Forget the coffee. You needed an entire bottle of wine.

tag list: @starofanotherworld @lilah-asteria @melmo567 @xxemmarldxx @a-frog-with-a-laptop @saltedcoffeescotch

@that-one-bibliophole @happyt0exist @thefandomswhre

@serxndipity-ipity-blog @doodlebugg16-blog @berrikun

@wolvesnravens @bluejayswhistle @vera0124 @jananigk

@carnelshephard

#acotar #azriel #azriel spymaster #azriel shadowsinger #acotar fanfiction #azriel fanfic #azriel x reader #a court of thorns and roses #dee writes #azriel x you #azriel angst #the lost queen

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softzindagi · 4 months

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Some of my thoughts on maxton hall and why i loved it so much:

- im so glad that they didnt have james being a dickbag and kissing other girls after he met ruby

- the contrast of james and ruby’s families, the polar opposite in fathers. I love how they still had james and lydia be each other’s rocks in such a crappy situation when they have no one else, even if their relationship isn’t the best. The dichotomy of their relationship to ruby’s and ember’s? things can go wrong but they are sisters who love each other deeply.

-i loved the very pride and prejudice esque scenes of ruby dressing james down, and every time he deserved to be told off but it still makes ruby feel guilty afterwards. there’s a moral compass of ruby that james hated at first but it humbles him? Chefs kiss its so fucking good. He betters himself just like darcy and the change is seen even by his parents.

- the scene of ruby telling james off in the oxford course, its a pivotal scene because everything she says digs at things he knows. Young Beaufort wasnt his idea, it was Lydia’s and he’s taking credit and charge of it. He feels bad, he’s forced into it, but it’s the “you go through life representing wealth to which you have contributed absolutely nothing? With so much money, there’s no need for your own ideas.” Ruby has no idea how hard that actually hits home, and you can see Lydia take a step back mentally and yeah she agrees. The rest of it, how people will only like him for his money and not himself, that also hits so close. We see how Cyril laughs inspite of James’ pain, Alister is impressed by Ruby’s dress down but no one goes after James like a true friend would. As the series goes on you see how Alister and James grow closer as he becomes a better person, you see the care and concern because they’re in similar places but Alister isn’t as proud or arrogant as James is. I really love how by the end of the series, you have James and Alister confiding in each other.

- the scene on the lacrosse field, the way she apologizes and he is arrogant but decides to be nice because he is curious, and finds out that he does like her. She humbles him and makes him want to do better, she’s not the enemy and he kinda respects her for it. I also think, he’s never had anyone genuinely apologize to him, because he’s never had anyone wrong him but his own family. The apology, it’s a catalyst for him to let go of this resentment he has for her, in the truth she dug up in him.

- i am very happy that they have the good and the bad with ruby’s parents. The guilt that Ruby feels and the way her father is not happy that she is “wasting” her money on saving for his lift. There’s care there, but it’s hard nonetheless, those are big emotions to have years after an accident like he experienced.

- piggy backing off of that, the pivotal scene of James saving Ruby from the pool, that even though he didn’t know why she didnt come up but didnt hesitate to jump in? CHEFS KISS! The scene after of her confiding in him, him being so gentle and careful and being honest with percy, that he’s in over his head but he likes ruby, he wants to help her and has helped her. Oof just so fucking good!

- the way they keep telling each other that they should go back to never knowing each other, but every time fail because they’re meant to collide now, they MATTER to each other now

- i just really am glad they had him apologize for the shitty way his father was to her. That he was embarrassed by himself and his father. It was excruciating to have her get humiliated by his father. He’s only experienced it within his own family, but having it happen to Ruby? that changed things.

- they fucking nailed the cute scenes between them. The dancing in the victorian clothes, the chasing pigeons, the planning and setting up of the gala? Hell yeah!

- The whole fourth episode was chef’s kiss, no notes just purely good storytelling

More thoughts later but this is what i’ve got rn after rewatching the show for the third time

#maxton hall #james beaufort #ruby bell #meta

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autumn0689 · 10 months

Text

I love how the abilities in the Remedyverse go like this:

Jack Joyce: Oh wow time powers, pretty cool WAIT NO NO IS THAT CHRONON SYNDROME NO NO NO NO- *begins experiencing excruciating pain* oh I can now make multiple choices now- NO CHRONON SYNDROME NO NO NO NO-

Jesse Faden: Oh Polaris thank you for guiding me WHERE ARE YOU POLARIS WHERE ARE YOU- oh nevermind you’re back! Also wtf why didn’t you help Dylan??!! *has a silent conversation in her head*

Saga Anderson: Mind Place? Yeah this is something normal people have- wait this is actually a psychic ability… *takes a long sip of coffee* interesting… also I’m related to those cool old rock stars, cool! *stares off into distance as others watch in horror as she accesses her Mind Place*

Alan Wake: *huddled in the corner, typing frantically on his typewriter* change the story change the story change the story FUCK YOU SCRATCH change the story FUCK YOU LAKE change the story FUCK YOU ZANE change the story FUCK THESE REALITY BENDING ABILITIES *throws typewriter against the wall as he cries*

#alan wake #alan wake 2 #quantum break #jack joyce #saga anderson #jesse faden #control remedy

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nahoney22 · 5 months

Note

❛ i would like to know what i can do to help. ❜ with tech and a gn!reader please from the comfort fluff prompts? ☺️ I suffer from bad migraines quite often and I feel like this prompt is so tech coded? Established relationship or not up to you. Cheers! Congrats on 4k 😊

4000 Follower Prompt Celebration

Tech X GN!Reader

word count: 1.1k

prompt:

• “I would like to know what I can do to help.”

When Tech notices you in pain one day, he feels obliged to help you in anyway he can in order to ease your migraines.

warnings: Fluff, little bit of flirting, mutual pining, gender neutral reader has migraines, lots of comfort.

authors note: This was a sweet prompt! Thank you and enjoy ☀️

As you and Tech were carefully maneuvering a heavy crate, a sudden wave of agony seized your head, forcing you to drop your side of the crate, the tools clattering loudly. Startled, Tech turned to face you, his expression shifting to one of concern as he observed you grimacing and clutching the side of your head, the pain evident on your features.

"Are you alright?" Tech inquired, his voice laced with worry as he noticed your discomfort.

"Just a sudden headache," you managed to reply through clenched teeth, attempting to straighten up despite the throbbing ache. "Maker, it’s really intense."

Frowning with concern, Tech set down his side of the crate and moved closer to you. He reached out to gently touch your head, his brows furrowing as he assessed the situation. "Have you recently experienced any head trauma?"

"Not that I can recall," you confessed, allowing Tech to offer his assistance. Suddenly, a shiver ran down your spine, and you couldn't shake the feeling of coldness enveloping you. "Is it getting colder, or is it just me?"

Tech paused, considering your words. "Given that we're on Tatooine, known for its scorching heat, it's unlikely to be a change in temperature."

Guiding you inside the ship, Tech urged you to take a seat in the pilot's chair while he prepared to run some tests. The pain persisted, each pulse of pain accompanied by a heightened sensitivity to light that made even keeping your eyes open an excruciating ordeal.

"I think it might be a migraine, Tech," you voiced your suspicion, another symptom emerging as you began to feel clammy, a sensation you recognized from past experiences.

"I believe you might be right," Tech concurred, swiftly analysing your condition. "I will take you to the nearest medical clinic immediately."

Your eyes widened, and you shook your head vehemently. Despite the pain, you were reluctant to waste time seeking medical attention. "No, Tech, I just need rest," you reassured, rising to your feet with a slight wobble. Tech instinctively moved to support you, his arm encircling your waist.

"Well, if you insist," Tech relented, knowing it was futile to argue with your determination. "But if your symptoms worsen, we will seek further medical assistance."

You chuckled softly, though it was accompanied by a wince of pain. "That's fine with me," you sighed, leaning into him for support.

"I would like to know what I can do to help," Tech offered, his concern evident in his voice.

You're grateful for Tech's presence by your side. It had been years since you last experienced a migraine of this intensity, and facing it alone was not something you relished. With someone as caring as Tech by your side, you felt reassured that you were in good hands.

"I'm going to close my eyes... the ship is too bright," you remarked, finding it ironic considering the usual dimness of the vessel. Even the faintest glimmer of light seemed to exacerbate your condition. "Can you guide me to the bunks?"

"Of course," Tech responded, his arm still providing support while his free hand reached out for you to grasp onto. Together, you navigated through the ship, Tech carefully ensuring you didn't stumble over any discarded equipment. "You may rest in my bunk."

"At least buy me lunch first," you teased with a smirk, noticing how Tech tensed beside you at your playful remark.

"P-Perhaps when you are feeling better," he stammered, his response not escaping your notice, silently surprising you with his reaction. But with a shared understanding, you both focused on the task at hand – getting you settled into his bunk. With Tech's gentle guidance, you found yourself sitting on the bunk, your eyes still closed against the pain.

"Stay here, and I'll fetch you some water and check the medkit for something to ease the pain," Tech instructed before you heard the sound of his retreating footsteps. Taking a moment to make yourself comfortable, you kick off your boots and carefully lay back, the persistent throb at the side of your head making your teeth clench.

When Tech returned, he informed you, "I have taken the liberty of dimming all the ship's lights, so if you feel comfortable enough to open your eyes, go ahead." Hesitant but trusting him, you slowly opened your eyes, relieved to find the lighting just right – not too bright to strain your eyes but enough to see without worsening your migraine.

"This sucks," you sighed, feeling guilty for inconveniencing Tech and taking him away from his duties to assist you. "I'm sorry."

"I am unsure as to why you are apologising," he replied, his attention focused on rummaging through the medkit before presenting a stim. "You are feeling unwell, and therefore, as a teammate, I should ensure you are as comfortable before anything else."

You turned your head to face him as he crouched down beside you, his gentle hold on your arm signaling his readiness to administer the stim that would hopefully alleviate some of your discomfort and aid in inducing sleep. "So if this were one of your brothers, you would act the same? Give them your bunk?" you inquired, raising a brow ever so slightly as you observed his reaction.

"Well, perhaps not exactly as I have with you, no," he admitted, clearing his throat as he briefly averted his gaze as he prepared to administer the stim. After a moment's pause, he proceeded to give you the medication, his demeanor slightly awkward yet caring.

"I'm just teasing you, Tech," you reassured softly, offering him a smile of gratitude.

"That is very gratifying to hear, I must admit," he replied, returning your smile. For a moment, you both shared a meaningful gaze, as if conveying unspoken sentiments. It felt intimate, a connection that neither of you knew how to put into words. However, the moment was fleeting as another wave of pain washed over you, causing you to close your eyes and look away.

"Here," Tech said gently, scooping his arm under your back to lift you just enough for a quick sip of water before easing you back down. "It's time for you to get some rest."

You nodded in agreement, silently thanking him for the water. "Good idea. Thank you, Tech," you whispered softly as you pulled his blanket over yourself, reveling in the familiar scent that enveloped you. "Your sheets smell of you."

Though you couldn't see it, his eyes briefly widened at your remark. "I am hoping that is a good thing."

"It is," you confirmed with a small chuckle, "you smell nice."

Tech settled beside you, maintaining a watchful presence until sleep finally claimed you, ensuring that you could rest undisturbed and free from pain. His unwavering care and attention provided a sense of comfort as you drifted off, hoping you know that if you need him, he will always be there.

Masterlist

More Tech Works

Prompt Requests (closed)

Tags: @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex @jesseeka @theroguesully @ladykatakuri @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @chrissywakingup @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @sleepycreativewriter @erellenora @zippingstars87 @ezras-left-thumb @the-rain-on-kamino o @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @tinyreadersmur @seriowan @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia @thesith @raevulsix @cw80831 @knightprincess @crosshairlovebot @imalovernotahater @id-rather-be-a-druid @the-bad-batch-baroness @lulalovez z @green-alm0nd @thiswitchloves9904

#nahoney22 writes #tech x reader #tech Tuesday #tbb #bad batch tech x reader #the bad batch #tbb tech #tbb tech x reader #tech x you #tech bad batch #bad batch

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foldingfittedsheets · 2 months

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hey this may be a bit of an odd ask and my apologies if this crosses a boundary (would totally understand if you just delete and don't reply) but I kind of had a sex question? Tangentially related sex question? I thought perhaps the legendary FFS, ex-sex shop worker and all round pretty knowledgeable sex enjoyer (assumedly??) could maybe help me out

Have you ever experienced/have you heard of sex migraines/headaches?? I googled it and aparantly they're a thing but it feels kind of ridiculous so I'm genuinely not sure.. I get really *freakishly* painful stabbing headaches that come on like being hit by a truck out of nowhere sometimes right before/after I orgasm and it is genuinely excruciating. I hear a lot of people saying "masturbating/sex is so relaxing !! It helps me fall asleep so easily !" and yet 4/10 I'm there curled in the fetal position trying not to cry cause (almost) orgasming gave me a splitting migraine. I'm just wondering if yourself, a slightly more experienced sex-haver, knew of this, if it's normal or if it's something I should perhaps get checked out? I know you're not a doctor or medical professional but I figured it couldn't hurt to ask? Thanks in advance and apologies if this was weird <33

Goddamn it, tumblr ate my first reply.

I have heard of this! I’ve even experienced it a few times, and a high school friend had this issue to a debilitating extant. His diagnosis was “post coital headaches”. Highly recommend seeing a doctor and my beloved adds that checking your hormone levels would be a good idea at the time. Spoiler alert- I got them before my thyroid issue was discovered and my hormones were all over the place. They no longer trouble me.

There are medications you can take to reduce or eliminate symptoms, and for my friend a lot of migraine tips helped- especially hydrating. Hydrating like a motherfucker helps all sorts of head issues.

I’m sorry you’re going through it, check in with a doctor and I hope this clears up!

#ask ffs #also I haven’t had any creeper asks or private messages #it’s always people just genuinely looking for help which I’m never bothered by #it’s usually pretty obvious when someone is trying to get off instead of learn #sex talk

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anantaru · 2 years

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Hellooooooo

I was wondering how would Alhaitham and Ayato would react to hearing the safe word in the middle of the act? Like they pushed reader's limits, they seem to be pretty rough and demanding in bed and that's kinda scary sometimes

cw. after saying the safe word, a lil angst, fem! reader, heavily comforting you

ayato, who would— and such goes in the generality of standings, without stating, express leaden depicted signs of embodied guiltiness for turning you, his darling, he devotedly treasured, this uncomfortable and hurting during an endearing time where he should've coddled you with a sundry of effusive pleasure.

conceivably, ayato might've fell in to be inordinately rough tonight as he was severely frustrated from his own bottled up emotions— one of the leading factors being the tracked down obvious that he hasn't seen you nor spend sufficient time with you in what felt like plentiful years.

his troubled breath was stranded immovable in his glued down throat upon listening to you suddenly cry out the safe word he was sure would never be used by any of you— to proceed, ayato had directly pulled out of you, the touch cautious, as controlled as possible as to not dispense any more damage before really saying anything, he can barely marge his eyes on you and it broke his heart that he was the reason you experienced pain— when he should've loyally lavaged you with nothing but pure comfort.

supplementary he puts forth your name in a tottery declare and then staggers through his frazzled breathing, "are you okay, please— please take your time." ayato eases himself back into this pivotal situation, but he will not touch you, he keeps his hands away from you. "i apologize with my entire heart— i did not mean for this to happen." as to bring grave attention in his sentence, he closely whispers an inch lower, soothingly, "i am so so sorry."

ayato will wait a fair enough of much required time, additionally giving you copious reasonable space before you, yourself, have allowed him to come close again. His glimmering eyes fall to your bare, trembling body as to calmly throw a silky blanket at your naked frame to have you a sprinkle more shielded and protected as well as have your body heat rise up again.

while you aided him to lean back into your arms, ayato breaks apart from within, bit by bit, his body was stilling and sheened of cold sweat, but it's about patience now— and he knows, he has to keep a clear head as always, he mustn't let his emotions run free.

"it's okay ayato." you close your arms around his neck and it almost brings him to tears— such spoken tears that he originally severed off himself earlier, the same way he had done so his whole life.

"it is not, i should've known better."

family was everything to ayato and you were a part of his. On this ending night he had done nothing more than to spoil you and apologize a handful more times, you let his warm palms seep into your gladdened skin and your eyes flutter close of the heavy tiredness— you realize he was warm but his breathing sounded patched together, even though he tried to hide it endlessly.

alhaitham, whose flexed up muscles loosened up the immediate wounded second of your excruciating voice thickly closing around his ear shells. This uncomfortable weight on his chest, or the penetrating shock in his eyes, he was aware that he unarguably went overboard this night, for certain, and promptly backed off your tremulous body without accidentally creating added problems.

with how he had been largely shadowing over yourself, he could easily perceive the state of your low lidded eyes— your vision had turned entirely blurry which was the straight up cause of warm tears simmering from each twist of your eyes.

"do not rush yourself." not at all did alhaitham appear as confident and collected as he usually was, "i apologize - i apologize, i don't know what—" your hard processed breaths overwhelmingly shook at each explosive word of him, it was demanding for you to state something, taxing on your emotions while at the same time cloaking back your cried which he had fortunately discerned himself, then stopping in midst his own sentencing, yet cursing himself.

it's not as if alhaitham doesn't want to do anything, all he craved for was to enclose his large arms around yourself and apologize once more— though he does nothing, not for now at least, he waits until you do something instead, after all, crossing your boundaries again would be the last thing he had in mind.

"can you-" he noiselessly jolts back when detecting your broken voice in the dim room, you mutely wrap your hand around his wrist, "can you please .." and he knows what you meant, in the wake of it, it wasn't back breaking to see through your quavery ways of stating.

he crumbles next to your body and closes his arm around your waist, your eyes were swelled up and with one gentle palm he shushed away the wetness on your cheeks, but remained careful in his proceedings.

"i'm sorry." you shake your head at his strangled heaves, applying yourself up forward into his chest, "it's okay." - "i know you would never hurt me on purpose."

but even with your presented reassurance, his heart burned, he huffs his warm breath on your forehead and presses his lips on your head, his hands in process of moving unsure on where to wavelessly rest themselves on. "it will never happen again."

he recollects himself, his words holding all meaningful purpose behind them, "i know." you smoother yourself further into him, systematically calming down more and feeling yourself back into his body.

"you're everything."

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #alhaitham x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #ayato x reader #ayato smut #alhaitham smut #al haitham smut #al haitham x reader #ayato x reader smut #alhaitham x reader smut #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #genshin drabbles #genshin imagines

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timetoletmyimaginationfly · 11 months

Text

Period Pain

Nanami Kento x Reader

Despite the stoic and aloofness Nanami Kento presents, he surprises students in how caring and protective he is of them. Especially Itadori Yuji. Nanami grew attached to the boy, reminding him of Haibara. Their relationship from student to teacher blossomed to friends.

“Nanamin, are you okay?” Yuji asked after they finished a mission together. He found Nanami off to the side of the building, worry evident on his face.

“Do me a favor, Itadori-kun,” he said.

“Hai!”

He quickly returned home. The soft sound of the television in the living room was mixed in with the sounds of your soft whimpering. He quickly removed his shoes and jacket before walking towards you.

He found you curled up on the couch with the blanket covering your whole body. A heating pad was pressed against your stomach and the bottle of painkillers sat on the table. He sat on the floor, not wanting to make any movements to cause anymore pain.

“I’m here, darling,” he said softly and kissed the top of your forehead. You wish his kisses would get rid of the excruciating cramps you were experiencing. But unfortunately, it didn’t. Any sort of movement killed your uterus.

Nanami hated this time of the month. Not because of your moodiness nor the fact you two couldn’t have sex. It was only because times like this, he can’t do anything to prevent the pain you’re experiencing.

“I’m sorry,” you softly said. “It’s so bad.” Your voice was barely audible.

“You took the pain killers?” You barely nodded.

“J-Just now. It just happened.”

“Itadori-kun is buying your things,” he said. “He’ll be over soon.” The mention of his name made you smile. You love how attached he is to the boy.

“You two are so cute,” you said before wincing in pain when you wanted to adjust your positioning. To humor you, Nanami just smiled a small smile instead of responding with a stern look.

“I’m going to shower okay?” he said. “I gave Itadori-kun the passcode just in case he comes by earlier. If you need anything, tell him what you want.”

“Thank you, Kento-kun,” you quietly said. He leaned in and gently kissed the side of your head.

“You’re welcome, my love. I’m sorry I can’t do anything with your pain.”

“Don’t be,” she said. “Just stay home with me for the rest of the day.”

“Okay, my love.”

#nanami #nanami kento #nanami x reader #fluff #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #cute #jjk nanami #jjk kento #jujutsu nanami #jujutsu kaisen nanami #nanami fluff #nanamin

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eyesthatroll · 1 year

Text

NO MORE JELLY SHOES!

IN WHICH WINNIE / (Y/N) FINDS OUT SHE IS PREGNANT

PAIRING JACK HUGHES X FEM!POC!READER

WARNING(S) PREGNANCY , ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP , SLIGHT ANGST ? FLUFF , CURSING , EDITED SLIGHTLY

WORD COUNT 2.4K

BTBR SERIES MASTERLIST!

Nervously, you find yourself pacing in the cramped bathroom tucked away at the rear end of your quaint bakery. The soft hum of the ventilation fan blends in with the uneven rhythm of your breathing, while your teeth bite relentlessly at the frayed skin of your fingertips, a telltale sign of your mounting anxiety.

Time stretched out, each of the ten excruciating minutes mandated for the pregnancy test's results feeling like an eternity. It was as if the universe itself was conspiring to torment your mind and body, leaving you suspended in a liminal space between excitement and fear, unsure of which emotion would emerge victorious.

On one hand, it was exhilarating. The idea of experiencing the beauty of pregnancy, bringing a new life into the world, and embracing motherhood, ignited memories of childhood dreams when you'd passionately declared your desire to be a stay-at-home mom.

But, on the other hand, it was paralyzing. You were no longer that wide-eyed child, clad in jelly shoes and braided pigtails; you'd matured, grown into adulthood. Your bakery had just begun to flourish, and the new hockey season was just starting for your boyfriend, who was no doubt coming into his own as one of the most talented centers in the league. Everything seemed to be in perfect harmony, and you couldn't help but ponder what would happen if a baby entered the equation.

The timer you'd set on your phone shrieked mercilessly against the cold, porcelain sink, its shrill cry reverberating through the confining space. The sound is nearly drowned out by the thunderous, erratic beating of your heart, it's rushing rhythm echoing in your ears like a relentless drumbeat.

As you flip the test over, a sudden hitch in your breath accompanies the sight of those two life-altering red lines. An overwhelming surge of emotion engulfs you, and your body quivers uncontrollably. Your knees give out, slamming against the unforgiving, icy tiles beneath you. The sharp jolt of pain goes unnoticed as guttural sobs wrench from your chest, the bathroom seeming to shrink, as if the walls themselves were closing in.

Tears streamed down your face, a tumultuous cascade of emotion you couldn't quite decipher. Your feelings were a tangled web, and you found yourself adrift in a sea of uncertainty. Your thoughts gravitated toward Jack, and the impending revelation of potentially becoming parents at the tender age of 22. It was a situation you both had never anticipated or discussed. You weren't teenagers anymore, but you were far from being settled adults. The weight of the unspoken future bore down on you as you grappled with the daunting reality of your unexpected pregnancy.

"Winnie..." Sophia, your business partner and right-hand, knocks gently on the door, her unmistakable southern drawl calling out to you, her soft voice a lifeline pulling you back from the depths of your turmoil.

Her soothing presence momentarily steadies your racing heart, and you make a frantic effort to regulate your breathing. You're grateful for the locked door, guarding your vulnerability from her prying eyes.

"(Y/N)?" Her concern colors the way she utters your name.

Clearing your throat, you hurriedly dab at your eyes with the ends of your sleeves, rising abruptly from the cold, unfeeling floor. "I'll be right out." You attempt to convey normalcy, but your voice wavers, betraying the emotional tempest inside you, shattering any façade you hoped to maintain.

As you approach the door, your fingers find the handle, and you turn it slowly, allowing it to creak open. On the other side, Sophia stands, her white baking apron cinched around her waist, red curls meticulously gathered into a bun. Her head tilts slightly, and her eyes brim with empathy.

"What's the verdict?" she asks, softly.

An uneasy sigh escapes your lips, and you feel the sting of stray tears as they once again trace a path from your eyes down to your chin.

"I'm pregnant." you admit, your voice a fragile thread holding back a tidal wave of emotions that you weren't quite sure how to deal with.

Wow, that feels weird to say out loud. you think to yourself. Your eyes gaze downward, where a tiny human is growing inside you.

A broad, joyous smile lights up Sophia's tanned face, and she immediately envelops you in a tight, warm hug. "Congrats, Winnie!"

You can't help but let out a genuine laugh at Sophia's infectious enthusiasm. She had always been the unwavering optimist, and her support was a ray of sunshine in your moment of uncertainty.

You met Sophia the first week that you moved to New Jersey, about three years ago.

You were a newcomer with dreams, a run-down bakery in your possession, a shitty apartment, and an intimidating $48,000 small business loan hanging over your head.

Sophia was a college student at the time. She came bumbling into your bakery half an hour late for her job interview, apologizing profusely for a class that ran late. She confessed, with charming honesty, that she had zero baking skills or experience with ovens, but her eagerness to learn was undeniable.

Back then, she could barely handle a piping bag. There was countless late nights that were devoted to imparting your baking wisdom to her, the two of you bonding in the flour covered kitchen, exchanging laughter and shared frustrations into the early hours of the morning.

Now, she not only matches, but surpasses you in the art of decorating, and a swell of pride fills your heart when you think of how incredibly far she's come.

In what feels like the blink of an eye, she's transitioned from a clueless novice, to your dependable right-hand woman.

The bond between the two of you now a treasured friendship that has withstood the test of time

"I'm so scared," you admit, a nervous laugh escaping your lips. Sophia releases you from her hug, her hands finding your shoulder blades, offering a reassuring squeeze.

"Winnie, I am so happy for you and Jack," she begins, tears shimmering in her eyes as a joyful smile lights up her face. "This is an incredible blessing, if you let it be."

You nod at her, hoping that her heartfelt words will fortify your resolve as you prepare to share the news with Jack.

"Would you be okay if I left early for today?" You ask. Part of you hopes that she'll say that she needs you here, so you can have a few more hours away from Jack, but you know she won't.

She shakes her head at you, laughing softly. "We're fine here, go home to your man, tell him the news, then call me."

Her playful insistence elicits a warm laugh from you, and you draw her into a final, affectionate hug.

Carrying a heart brimming with emotions, you navigate your path to the small manager's office.

The creak of the door, the scent of new invoices mixed with the smell of baked goods wafting through the air, everything is the same as how you left it, and that somehow seems to emphasize the gravity of the moment and how everything would be changing faster than you knew it.

The drive back home is filled with a racket of sound, your voice joining the chorus of top 40 hits as you sing along in an attempt to drown out the anxiety bubbling within you. Right now, tears haven't surfaced, but you can sense their impending arrival, like a storm gathering on the horizon. The looming prospect of stepping into the apartment you share with Jack and Luke weighs heavily on your mind, and you can't help but wonder how the dynamic will shift in the moments after you announce your pregnancy.

The half-hour drive from the bakery to your apartment seems to go by in a blur, and before you know it, you're parking in the dimly lit garage, cutting the ignition and pausing at the wheel to regain control of your breathing. The late afternoon sun casts long shadows, signaling that both the boys would have returned from their practice, especially with no preseason game today.

You retrieve your bag, exit the car, and make your way toward the apartment, choosing the stairs over the elevator. Each step feels like a deliberate choice, a way to delay the inevitable conversation looming on the other side of the door.

As you twist the handle, the door swings open effortlessly, and you step inside. You make eye contact with Luke, who lays sprawled out on the couch, engrossed in a TV show. His brows furrow in confusion.

"Why are you home so early? Is everything all right?" His voice carries a touch of worry, and the subtle shift in his demeanor makes you wince.

You nod in acknowledgment, slipping out of your Converse and adding them to the growing pile of footwear that congregates in a small corner near the front door.

"Everything's fine, babe," you reassure him, your voice gentle. "Where's your brother?"

Luke considers for a moment. "In your room, I think?"

With one final nod, you offer a tight-lipped smile, a mixture of emotions playing across your face as you take measured steps down the narrow hallway.

Reaching the door to your shared room, you hear the faint murmur of Jack's favorite show, Entourage, playing softly in the background. Gently, you push the door open just a crack, allowing a sliver of light to spill into the room. There, you see Jack lying on his side, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest indicating that he's fallen asleep.

A quiet sigh of relief escapes your lips, and you gently widen the door just enough to slip inside, carefully closing it behind you.

With deliberate motions, you shed your clothes, and toss them into the laundry hamper. From your dresser, you look for some night clothes. You settle on an oversized Devil's t-shirt of Jack's that's worn, familiar, and smells like him, paired with comfortable sleep shorts.

While the details of his day at practice remain a mystery, you know that you're using his impromptu nap as an excuse to delay sharing the news of your pregnancy with him. You slide into the bed beside him, and nestle under the warm embrace of the duvet, allowing the comfort of his presence to lull you into peaceful sleep.

It's 9:22 pm, when the screeching noise of the shower turning off awakes you from your slumber.

With a languid yawn, you gradually raise yourself, resting your back against the headboard of the bed. Your fingers reach for your drowsy eyes, desperate to dispel the remnants of sleep that cling to them.

Jack emerges from the bathroom. A towel slung low around his waist, his damp chestnut hair a tousled mess, and his skin, slightly flushed from the warmth of the shower. A warm smile graces his lips as he looks at you. "Hi, my love."

"I'm pregnant." The words tumble from your lips, a confession that spills forth before you can rein it in.

Jack, halfway into slipping on his boxers, freezes at your announcement, his mouth agape. "I'm sorry, what?"

Gathering your resolve, you take a deep breath and repeat, "I'm pregnant, Jack."

Jack's eyes widen in disbelief, and he collapses onto the edge of the bed, his fingers clutching at his still-damp hair, locks slipping through his trembling grasp.

The minutes stretch on, heavy with an uncomfortable silence that envelops the room. In your two-year relationship, it's an unusual rarity when Jack's thoughts are inscrutable.

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, and a soft sniffle escapes you as you avert your gaze from him. Your yearning to be close, to feel his touch and find solace in his embrace, collides with the disquieting uncertainty of whether he desires the same.

"Jack?" Your voice trembles.

He turns to you, uncrossing his legs and motioning for you to come closer. "C'mere."

You shift towards him, unable to stifle the sobs that escape your lips, one after another.

Jack sits beside you, rubbing your back and whispering words of comfort that you can barely hear through your tears. "I-I don't want you to break up with me," you hiccup.

It surprises you, your own admission. Just an hour ago, the thought of a breakup hadn't crossed your mind, yet sitting here, in his arms, all your fears surface.

"Why would I do that, my love?" he asks gently, his tone laced with incertitude as he looks down at you with eyes shimmering from unshed tears.

"I-I don't know." You breathe out.

Jack hums softly in response, lifting you gently so that you can look into his eyes.

"I need to talk to my mom. Have you told anyone else?"

Your eyes widen, and you shake your head frantically. "No, no, Jack, you can't tell your mother. She'll think badly of me."

Fresh tears flow down your cheeks as you contemplate the possibility of Jack's mother, Ellen, disliking you.

"My mama adores you, baby. She won't think badly of you," he reassures you, but your doubts persist.

"I don't know. We've only been dating for two years. What if she thinks I'm trying to trap you or something?"

Jack shakes his head firmly, an incredulous laugh escaping him. "She absolutely will not think that."

The unwavering certainty in Jack's voice offers a glimmer of relief, enough to embolden you to gently slip from his embrace. With a recovering breath, you employ the hem of your shirt to dab away the evidence of your tears and the persistent trickle of snot from your nose.

Jack shifts from his spot at the foot of the bed, returning to his familiar place beside you near the headboard. He draws you close into his embrace, your head now finding a resting place on his bare chest, while he intertwines his legs with yours.

"Let's talk about this tomorrow, alright?" he murmurs softly. "I can tell it's been a long day."

Gently, you press a tender kiss against his chest. "I love you."

There's no room for doubt; you can feel the words forming on his lips before they even escape. "I love you too. So fucking much.”

taglist; @tomhollandsbabymama | if you'd like to be added please leave a comment

mari speaks! is this the best thing i've ever written? maybe. the ending does feel rushed, though, so i’m not really sure how much i like it, but i’ve been wrestling with writing this for weeks, so it feels good to finally get this out. i have a lot planned for this series, hopefully you all will enjoy. wishing everyone a wonderful day, and sending my love. <3 feel free to send any asks, blurb or fic requests for this series, i’d love to garner some of your ideas :)

#jack hughes #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes imagines #jack hughes fluff #jack hughes fanfiction #jack hughes fic #jack hughes x you #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes blurb #dad!jack hughes

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