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#I GAVE YOU EXACTLY WHAT YOU ASKED FOR BECAUSE I CARE.
cressidagrey · 15 hours
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Stars all aligned - Chapter 1
Summary:
If there was one thing that both Azriel and Zahra Archeron had in common, it was that they were both very good at blending into the background.
They just never thought that their family were going to be the ones who never saw them at all.
Warning:
Bashing of like...every IC member? I think Rhys gets the worst though, definitely disordered eating, kinda depression?, isolation
(Lovely dividers thanks to @sweetmelodygraphics)
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He found her deep inside the House of Wind. Far enough from the festivities of Starfall that it was startling to find her.
The second oldest Archeron Sister must have wandered off just like he had.
“Why aren’t you dancing?” Azriel asked her as he spied her sitting in a puddle of her skirts on one of the couches, staring at the empty fireplace.
“Why aren’t you?” Zahra gave back drily, not even looking up at him.
What exactly was he supposed to answer to that? Oh, I can't stomach watching your sister dance with her mate? And even if I could stomach that, Rhys's mental commentary to him about it had turned his stomach. Even when Azriel had kept away from Elain just like Rhysand had ordered him to do, ever since last year. So really...what was he supposed to answer?
“Dancing isn’t exactly my favourite activity,” Azriel finally replied. It wasn’t a lie. 
"Yeah, well, mine neither," she answered with a shrug. "Not that I ever learned."
"You never learned?" he asked surprised. Nesta had learned. Elain had learned.
"Bastard, remember?" Zahra said drily. "I am lucky that I got to learn how to read and write and do basic math. I was not going to be molded into a perfect lady, because no self-respecting man would marry me anyway."
The blunt way Zahra was talking stunned Azriel momentarily. There was something harsh, something almost...bitter and resentful in her voice as she spoke.
It seemed like it didn't matter if one was born a bastard in Illyria or the Human lands. It was horrible either way.
"Your sisters will miss you," he said instead quietly. "And you'll miss the spectacle."
"I don't really care for the festivities," she said with another shrug. "I don’t like the holidays. Humans don’t have any. We… they are too busy trying to survive," Zahra corrected herself quietly. "And besides, I am only here anyway so I don't end up being an indentured servant until some of you decide that I am back in your good graces,” she gave back caustically.
He grimaced. That Zahra had vehemently disagreed about their treatment of Nesta was well known.
It had surprised him too because it was just as just as well known that Nesta seemed to not care for her half-sister on a good day. They weren't particularly close, in any way, shape or form.
Something in his chest clenched painfully. Not from the insult she threw in his direction, but from the defeated way she said it. That she thought that they would just…toss her aside like that.
She was one of them.
"We won't," he said firmly. Her eyes slowly turned toward him and there were dark shadows in those eyes. Out of all the Archeron Sisters, she was the only one with green eyes. Azriel wondered if she had inherited them from her late mother.
Zahra was only the half-sister after all. The result of her father’s dalliance with a maid. Her age put her somewhere between Nesta and Elain. 
It was easy enough to pick out the differences between Nesta, Elain and Feyre and Zahra. Dark hair similar to Elain’s, but green eyes. Skin a few shades darker than any of theirs. Lips that looked like Feyre’s but a nose that looked like none of her sisters. 
Zahra seemed to belong but didn’t. 
And right now, these green eyes…something was wrong. Something was off with these eyes. 
"You don’t know that," she said with a humourless laugh. "Do you want to lie to me too, and  tell me that Rhysand has nothing to do with whatever happened between Elain and you?"
Azriel stiffened, a low sound escaping his throat. She knew. She knew.
"How did you-" he croaked hoarsely and Zahra cocked an eyebrow at him.
 "Do you really think that I hadn't noticed the two of you dancing around each other for months? Or the fact that you two can barely manage to be in the same room together?" she asked dryly and Azriel averted his gaze.  "There is no one as beautiful and kind as my sister," Zahra said drily. "I don't fault you for falling for her."
Azriel said nothing, the pain in his chest growing at her words. The pain...and the bitter realization that his feelings were not as well-hidden as he had thought they were. 
"It doesn't matter," he said quietly. "She has a mate. She deserves better than me anyway."
"Did Rhysand tell you that too?" Zahra said drily. "You never tried to hide the fact that your mate was dying from the same, so you have that on him."
Azriel gritted his teeth, the pain in his chest becoming almost unbearable. "It doesn’t matter," he repeated firmly, the words tasting like ash in his mouth. "Elain is happy. I would do nothing to put that in danger." 
"Yes, she is," Zahra agreed. "For what it's worth, I am sorry," she apologised to him, her voice honest.
Azriel swallowed, the pain in his chest lessening only to be replaced by something else. Something...much more complicated. Something like…pity.
He pitied her. This young female was so full of bitterness. He couldn’t even fault her for it either. She had been just a bastard. Even when they had first met the Archeron Sisters…Zahra had been working in the household as a maid. Half employee, half part of the family. Like their father couldn’t make up his mind what he should do with his bastard daughter. 
"You don't have anything to apologise for," Azriel finally told her quietly. "Do you really not want to watch?" he asked her. "You are supposed to wish for something when you see the stars fall."
She snorted, the sound bitter. "What I want, I am never going to get," Zahra said, her voice brittle.
He took her in in more detail at that moment.
The simple green gown she wore, high necked and long sleeved...that long gown that did little to hide how thing she was. The dark brown hair, pulled into a braid, obviously trying to hide the pointed tips of her ears and failing...the way her skin, darker than all of her sisters, was nearly ashen.
They had all thought that she was doing well. That Zahra at least was adjusting well.
But she wasn't. She wasn’t doing better.  She hadn't adjusted. Azriel would bet anything that all she wanted in her life was to be human again.
She hadn't adjusted. She just acted in a way that didn't bother anybody, that didn’t spell trouble for anybody.  Zahra had gotten herself a job, managing the accounting at an apothecary in the city.  She had gotten herself a little cottage to rent. She didn’t go out and get drunk. She didn’t use any money from Rhys or Feyre. She showed up for family dinners, staying quiet and polite. 
And if she was miserable…well, then nobody cared, because she didn’t bother anybody. Azriel could understand that. The same was the case for him.
Azriel clenched his jaw, watching her quietly sitting here. The way she was trying to hide away. The dress that was more like a potato sack than anything else. The way her skin was almost...grey. That bitter voice. 
The shadows were stirring and he was unable to look away from her. She looks upset, Master, they told him helpfully. 
"Do you want to go home?" Azriel offered quietly. Home to her cottage? Maybe some peace and quiet would make her feel better. 
Zahra shrugged, not looking at him. Not giving him an inch. That wall of bitterness and sarcasm was so firmly in place, that it was practically a solid wall between them. 
“Don’t want to end like an indentured servant, remember?“ she quipped drily.
“You won’t,“ Azriel said evenly. “You had a headache. I brought you home.“
She still didn’t look at him, her hands tightly knotted into her skirts as she sat there. She was so thin, almost fragile-looking. Her skin was sickly grey. “Come on,” he said finally, walking towards her.
Zahra finally looked up at him. Those green eyes. A bitter and lonely light in them. “What are you doing?“ she muttered. 
“I’m bringing you home,” he said simply, holding out his hand. “Come on, get up.“
Zahra looked at his hand, her gaze wary. “Why?“ she asked quietly. 
“Because you look like you are about to keel over,” he said, more bluntly than intended. 
“Gee, thanks,” she said dryly, her voice sarcastic and bitter. But she placed her hand into his own and let him pull her to her feet, even though he could feel the tension in her entire body. 
Azriel wrapped his arm around her shoulders, steadying her. “Come on. Let’s get you home and into bed,” he said firmly. 
He led her towards the balcony, the last few streaks of light painting the sky, and he grasped her tightly as they shout these few feet into the air until he could winnow to the cottage she rented. 
It’s ugly, the shadows complained. 
He had to agree with them. The cottage was an ugly little thing. Plain. Small. The type of thing that was more of a hovel in the outskirts, rather than anything else. 
“Home sweet home,“ Zahra said dryly, pulling away from him and a key out of her purse. 
That cottage was in serious need of some renovations when the red paint that was flaking off the door was anything to go by. 
As she unlocked the door it became obvious that while she kept it clean and neat.. even that couldn’t help much. This is a hovel, the shadows hissed.
Azriel was inclined to agree. He looked around with a frown, as the shadows scuttered around the tiny cottage. “You live here?“ he couldn’t help but ask. It was a terrible hovel indeed. 
Zahra shrugged as if she didn’t notice the disgust in his voice. “I couldn’t exactly afford anything else at first,” she said drily. 
At least not without taking any money from Rhys and Feyre, and clearly that was nothing that Zahra wanted to do. 
He was struck by how empty it all looked. There was a small kitchen space, a table with a few chairs a fireplace… And the door that led to her bedroom, he assumed. 
“How long have you lived here?“ he asked carefully, taking in the bare emptiness. There were no pictures on the walls. No trinkets and little belongings anywhere. It was…lifeless. She shrugged again and kicked off her shoes, making her way towards the bedroom. “A year?“
The room was equally simple and bare. A bed, a few clothes. A little bathing chamber. That was it. 
“You’ve lived here for over a year?“ Azriel repeated, his voice turning sharp as he looked at everything. There wasn’t even a mirror on the wall. 
When she just shrugged again, he was done. He grabbed her arm and towed her back into the main room. “Stay,” he ordered, pointing at the table and one of the two rickety chairs. 
“What are you doing?“ Zahra asked, raising both eyebrows at him. Her irritation had started to rise considerably. At least that had done something to the sickly colour of her skin. 
“Making sure you eat something before you pass out on me,” Azriel muttered, turning back into the kitchen area, looking around with a frown.
There was…nothing. His shadows reported as much. She literally had a few pieces of bread and some cheese in the whole house. He was more than fuming. That was not enough that she was living in…this hovel, she was apparently also starving herself.
He pointed at the chair again. “Sit,” he ordered a little sharper than he had intended. 
The glare she gave him did not surprise him. Zahra hated being ordered around. “No,” she said firmly, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “I’m not hungry.“
Azriel clenched his jaw, the anger flaring. How stubborn could she be? 
“You clearly haven’t eaten in days,” he said, pointing out the obvious. “You have nothing in your house to eat.” 
“I have what I need,” she retorted, her own anger flaring. Azriel gritted his teeth, the urge to snap at her almost overwhelming.
“You are skin and bones,” he hissed. “There is barely enough fat on you to keep out the cold.“ 
“Why do you care?“ she snapped right back.
The question hit him squarely in the chest. Why did he care? Why, he asked himself for a moment. Why indeed.
He wasn’t going to lie to himself and say that it was just because she was Feyre’s sister. 
Thankfully, Azriel was saved from actually having to answer, when her stomach grumbled.
Loudly. Azriel almost chuckled at the sound of her own stomach betraying just how hungry she really was. “Clearly your body disagrees with you,” he said drily. 
“Shut up,” Zahra snapped, her skin flushing at the sound of her own stomach. 
“I will shut up after you’ve eaten something,” Azriel said firmly, folding his arms across his chest.
Zahra gave him a glare that could strip the paint from the walls, (but then, the paint was already flaking off anyway). Still, she grudgingly sank down on the chair, her eyes avoiding his. 
He turned back into the kitchen, opening cupboards and drawers and found absolutely nothing. There was nothing. Not even some fruits or vegetables. 
He slammed the last cupboard closed, almost causing the hinges to break, the anger flaring hotly in his chest. That stupid, stubborn, stubborn woman.
“I will personally come here every day and stuff you full until you burst,” he snapped before he could stop himself.
“Why?” she asked and he could hear the challenge in her voice. Her own anger rose to meet his own. “Why would you even bother?“ 
“Because you are starving yourself,” he said, spinning around to face her. “Because you are so thin, I could snap you in half with one hand. Because I’m pretty damn sure you haven’t eaten a proper meal in at least a year. That’s why.“
“Maybe I don’t deserve a proper meal,” she shot back and something inside of him snapped at the tone in her voice. 
Because he knew that feeling. He knew. For just a moment he froze. They were far more similar than they should be. 
It was a terrible realization. He knew what the self-hatred and bitterness was like. He understood it far better than he wanted to.
“Nobody is going to suddenly show up and care,” he told her quietly. He saw her eyes flare at the words and he knew she got the meaning behind them instantly.
She sat there, her jaw tensed. “And what do you know about it?” she snapped, her voice bitter. 
“I know what it feels like to starve oneself,” he said calmly. “I know what it feels like to have not a single person notice or care.“
The words rang truer than they should. Her eyes widened for a moment, shock flashing through her. 
“I know what it feels like to be the one be always at the edge of the family. I know what it feels like for everybody around me to meet their mate but not me.“
The words slipped out before he could stop them. The pain he had buried so deep, deep down flaring up. The pain and loneliness and bitter realization that would never have what everyone else had.
He realized only then how much they really had in common. How similar they were. 
“I know what it feels like to be the afterthought,” he continued, unable to stop now. “I know how it feels to be shoved aside. I know how it feels to watch everyone around me find someone while I’m the one left behind.“ 
He took a step closer to where she was sitting, towering over her. “And I know how it feels to hate myself enough to deny myself the basic needs I actually have.“ 
The last words made her flinch. He was so close he could almost see the pain and guilt and bitter realization flit across her face. Her eyes were on her lap, her fingers wrapped around the edge of the table. 
“I know what it feels like to feel as if I don’t deserve to eat,” he said quietly. “Because I’m not good enough. Not worthy enough. Not deserving enough.“
He knelt down in front of her, forcing her to look at him. To meet his eyes. 
She tried to look away, but he wouldn’t let her. He wanted her to see. To understand that she wasn’t as alone as she thought. “I know what it feels like to punish myself by not giving myself what I actually need,” he said quietly. 
Her breath hitched at the last words, her eyes widening ever so slightly. She was listening. Really listening to what he said.
“You’re not the only one who hates yourself, you know,” he said quietly. The look in her eyes shattered him. The look of realisation. Of bitter understanding. The realization that they were so much more similar than either of them had thought before.
Zahra bit her lip, the guilt flashing across her face. Her hands started trembling, ever so slightly.
“You don’t deserve to go hungry,” he said quietly, his voice firm and quiet. “You don’t deserve to starve yourself. You don’t deserve to live in this… hovel.
“The cauldron should just have killed me,” Zara said her voice brittle. “I don’t like this life.”
And didn’t that break his fucking heart? 
She laughed bitterly, but there was no humour in it. “I’m not even surviving,” she said, a bitter smile on her thin lips. “I’m existing. There is a difference.“ 
The words hit him hard. She was right. She didn’t survive, she just existed. There was a difference and a huge one at that. “Then stop just existing,” he said quietly.
His hand was still cupping her cheek, his thumb stroking gently over her skin. 
“Says the guy that just keeps moping around,” she quipped.
It was a low blow but also true. Azriel’s jaw tensed at the comment. “I don’t mope,” he bit. “I just..“
He didn’t really have a good argument in his defence at the moment. 
He sighed. “We should both stop rotting away,” he said drily.
“Yeah, well, that’s easy to you to say,” Zahra said and he could hear the bitterness in her voice. 
“Eat your cheese,” he responded.
She rolled her eyes and snatched away the slice of cheese off the table. “Happy now?“ she muttered. 
“Delighted,” he gave back drily, as he moved towards her fireplace.
“You don’t need to do that,” Zahra said quietly. “I can do that.”
“Considering you’ve been too starved to think straight, you are going to let me do this,” Azriel cut across her calmly. “You are more than likely to burn yourself.” 
“Don’t the flames bother you?” She asked him quietly. He froze.
Nobody else had ever asked him. They had just expected him to be over it by now. He had 500 years to be over it. His hands clenched.
“Yes,” he answered quietly. “They still do.” It was the honest truth. A truth he never told anyone before, least of all someone like her. The shadows curled around his shoulders and arms as if to calm him down. The flames still bothered him. They always would. “But I learnt to deal with it a long time ago,” he continued.
“That’s not fair to you,” Zahra said, her voice quiet. “You are always the one in discomfort. And nobody cares.”
Her words hit him square in the gut. It was true. It was painfully true. He was always the one being uncomfortable. Always the one on edge. It had always been expected of him to be over it by now, the pain and the hurt. The fear and the bitterness. 
He finished building the fire. Using a match to light it carefully, then closing the door quickly.
“I can deal with it,” he answered quietly. “You should go to sleep,” he advised her.
“So should you,” Zahra told him just as quietly. “You look terrible.“ He knew he looked like crap. But that didn’t matter. 
“I’m fine,” he muttered, brushing off her comment. Even though he knew it was a lie. Even though he knew they were both terrible at taking care of themselves. 
“You are a terrible liar,” she quipped. He looked at her and was surprised to see a tiny smile on her face. 
“And you’re a very stubborn, very stupid, very annoying woman,” he quipped back just as quietly. 
The smile on her face broadened the tiniest bit at the comment. “I could say the same about you,” she shot back. 
“Sleep,” he told her again.
And then he left that little cottage to get back to the House of Wind. He didn’t bother winnowing, instead, he shot up into the sky with one flap of his mighty wings. He wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway.
His mind was whirling as he flew back to the House of Wind. So much had happened in the last few hours and it was all still a lot to process.
He had always been good at keeping a rein on his thoughts and his emotions. But this time, he simply couldn’t. 
Zahra and him, always on the outskirts of their family. Ignored and expected to get on with it.
They were so similar in so many ways. It was shocking to realize just how much they actually had in common.
The loneliness and solitude he had come to live with, she had experienced herself. The pain and the bitterness, he could recognize it on her, for he had felt it himself. 
Where are you, Az? Rhys demanded at that moment mentally. Azriel would like to scratch out his eyes, but he didn’t.
I’m flying back to the House, he sent back curtly. Zahra had a headache, so I brought her home.
A headache, Rhys shot back incredulously. Azriel could almost see the look on his High Lord’s face. You really think I will buy that?
I don’t care if you believe me or not, Azriel responded icily, his temper rising already at the tone. It is the truth and I really don’t wish to have a discussion over it.
There was a pause in Rhys’ mind. Then a slight huff. You can be so unbelievably stubborn sometimes, you know that?
Azriel didn’t bother reacting to that.
Elain and Lucien are figuring things out. So keep away from her, Rhys told him sharply.
I am keeping away from her, Azriel shot back, irritation flaring. You really think I will go and ruin this for her?
I don’t know what you are up to, Rhys retorted, and Azriel knew the High Lord was irritated. But I really don’t have the time to deal with your crap right now. That’s an order.
Understood, High Lord, Azriel snarled back and he felt Rhys chuckle in his mind at the tone. I will keep away from your precious Elain, I promise. 
Damn right you will, he heard Rhys mutter in his mind and the mental connection between the two of them snapped close. 
Azriel snarled in irritation as he landed on his balcony and stalked into his room. It wasn’t enough that he was wrestling with his own emotions, No, he also had Rhys all up his ass about it. 
And he was infuriated about the whole thing.
Nobody will suddenly show up and care, he has told Zahra. It was the truth. Nobody would care.
They only cared as long as they got what they wanted from him.
Chip away the pieces they didn’t like. Mould him into a person they could stomach. 
Either it was Rhys ordering to keep away from Elain…or ordering him to behave around Mor and Emerie… and to be quite honest…Azriel was done.
It was always him that needed to bend to make everybody else comfortable. Nobody bends for him.
So many years of following orders, of keeping his mouth shut, of bottling up the anger.
Even when everyone around him was getting what they wanted. They got their happily ever after. And he was left behind.  Not once did someone ever realize that he was struggling. Not once did someone notice that he needed something…anything. That he was hurting and in pain. Nobody even bothered to check on him, to ask how he was doing. 
They all got what they wanted. Mor, Emerie, even Feyre. They all got the mate that they wanted. Rhys, Cassian and even Amren had Varian. 
He was the one always helping everyone else. Always the one having to endure everything. Never anything for himself. No love for himself.
Orders, commands, demands…that’s all it ever was. He didn’t get a say in anything. They just expected him to be fine. And if he wasn’t…he had to push through it. 
He was the tool that did whatever needed to be done. The spy that got the order to do the dirty work. The shadowsinger that just had to endure everything. 
All for scraps of attention.
Azriel was done.
He was so done. With everything. With everyone. With the one-sided affection that he had given in a desperate attempt to feel…something, anything…. 
He needed to stop expecting to get anything from them.
Zahra did not. She seemed to have given that up a very long time ago
The cold realization that they had been doing the same to her hit him. She was also the tool they used when they needed it. She may not be a spy, but they used her just the same. Expected her to be fine. 
She was alone just as much as he was. 
Alone and isolated, an afterthought to their family just as much as he was. 
***
It was quiet in the little cottage. 
Peaceful. 
Comfortable.
Sie should be happy. Or at the very least…she should be content, should she not?.
Zahra had a roof over her head. And if she wanted to…she could afford food.
Her job didn’t pay that well, but it wouldn’t leave her starving. She just wasn’t hungry. She seemingly never was.
That was a lie and she knew it. Deep down she was hungry all the time. She just refused to give in to eating. She refused to listen to her body screaming for sustenance. It didn’t matter, anyway. Nobody cared.
She didn’t care.
Something inside her had broken during her bath in that cauldron. Her humanity had burned away and with that…with that everything Zahra had ever wanted.
She didn’t crave anything anymore. Not love. Not affection. Not attention. Not food. It was all gone. All she felt was numb. 
Cold, empty and numb. Like her shell had hardened and frozen over.
She had never thought it was possible to feel so damn tired without having done anything. 
Zahra forced herself to get up. Forced herself to heat some water on the stove… to make tea. The cheapest tea she had been able to find at the market.
It wasn’t the best. The taste was bitter and the color was more brown than black. But it was tea and she was thirsty enough to drink it.
It wasn’t very warm and left a bitter aftertaste on the tongue. Like her life itself. 
Maybe just dying would have been easier, she reflected bitterly. Was this how eternity would feel? Alone? Tucked away in this cottage? 
All her sisters had been given a mating bond. They had been given another person who loved them unconditionally…that was at their side. That wanted them around. That wanted to spent time with them. 
And then there was her. 
She had been closest to Feyre during the years in that cottage. Nesta gave her the fault for seemingly everything htat had ever gone wrong in her life, though Zahra privately thought that for Nesta, Zahra was just the evidence of another of her father’s failings…Elain…well, Elain was more embarrassed than anything about Zahra’s very existence. But Feyre…well, Feyre hadn’t cared. And so Zahra had tried to dote on her as much as she could. 
And then clearly she had been replaced in Feyre’s affections. 
She didn’t fault her for that. 
Feyre had made her own life. And she had every right to do that. She was busy with her mate and her son and Mor was her best friend and…there was seemingly no place for Zahra there. 
Which was fine. 
It was. 
But if Zahra was completely honest with herself…she was unspeakably jealous of the mating bond of every single one of her sisters. 
Of that promise of at least one person that would be on her side, come Hel or High Water. 
Clearly, something was wrong with her that she hadn’t been given a Mating Bond.
She wasn’t worth a mate. Clearly, something was broken inside her. Otherwise, the cauldron would have given her a mate, right? 
Maybe she was broken so thoroughly that nobody even wanted her. 
Why would they? She was a shell of a person, a ghost of the woman she was supposed to be.
She was cold, empty and numb. Everything that nobody could possibly want. 
Everyone else got a mate, love and happiness. Not her.
She had nothing.
Her hands clenched around her lukewarm cup of tea. 
Some random sparks of light sparked against the mug. A gift from the cauldron. They didn’t seem to do anything but warm whatever they touched. Maybe that was that random power the cauldron had given her. Neither future or death…but…warmth. She supposed it was something.
She wasn’t quite sure what to do with it, and she had never bothered telling anybody about it. 
Sometimes she allowed herself to play with them when she couldn’t sleep. They were strange and utterly useless. 
It wasn’t the power of foresight or the power of a death god…no. She had the stupid power to create sparks. Useless sparks of light. 
Oh well. 
Complaining about her sparks wasn’t going to help her either. 
So she pulled out her work and sat down to do her work as the sun came up and the day went on. 
Zahra balanced the account ledgers for one of the apothecaries in Velaris. Which meant she had a whole box of receipts to sort through and put into said ledger.
One receipt at a time, one name after the other. 
It kept her busy. It paid well enough. She seemed to have some kind of aptitude for it…maybe the fact that her father was a merchant had come through for once. 
She worked until the late evening. Until her eyes couldn’t concentrate on the numbers anymore.Until her back and shoulders ached with pain. She stretched her shoulders back. 
She wondered if she should eat something. Her cheese was gone, thanks to Azriel standing over her until she ate it…but she still had one or two slices of bread, didn’t she? 
She could go food shopping…buy another bread, another chunk of cheese tomorrow. 
Then Zahra heard a knock on the door. 
Confusion spread through her. Who would knock on her door at that very late hour? It was after 9 pm already. 
She got up, walked towards the door and opened it carefully.
It was the last person she would expected to be standing on the front porch. Azriel. 
“I am making you dinner.“
Her eyes widened at that announcement. “You are what?” she asked him dumbly. 
He just gave her a deadpan look and pushed past her. “I am cooking dinner because I am assuming that you haven’t eaten yet,” he told her plainly. 
It was true. Zahra hadn’t eaten a proper meal in god knows how long. But why did he care?? “Why?” she blurted out. “Why do you care if I’ve eaten?” 
He gave her a sharp look and pushed her towards the kitchen chair. “Sit down,” he simply ordered and she was too taken aback to protest against it. 
He had brought his own ingredients. His own knives, all tucked away in a little basket that he put on her countertop. “Can you peel potatoes?” He asked her as he rummaged through it. 
She could just stare at him. 
“Who do you think cooked the meat Feyre hunted?” Zahra replied drily.
Azriel froze in the process of digging something out of the basket on the counter. “You can cook?” he asked her and she heard the surprise in his voice. 
Zahra let out a snort. “Yes, I can cook,” she retorted. “What did you think I was doing this whole time in the cottage? Twiddling my thumbs?” 
He shrugged. “Honestly, I had no idea what you were up to,” he told her truthfully.  “I thought you were as useless as Elain and Nesta were at that point,” he admitted.
“Nesta did all the cleaning and hacked the wook,” Zara corrected him quietly. “Elain mended. I cooked. Feyre was the only one who hunted. And yes, we should have done more, but I did help run the household. The only one who never helped was our father.” The bitterness bled into her voice at that. 
There was a long pause after her admission. Then Azriel exhaled. “I guess I shouldn’t be as surprised as I am,” he muttered. “You don’t strike me as a pampered useless damsel.” 
“Thank you for that assessment, Shadowsinger,” she quipped back. “I will make sure to remember it when I need a pick-me-up.” 
He put a sack of potatoes in front of her. “I take it I’m peeling potatoes,” Zahra murmured, staring at the sack that was in front of her.
“Yes,” Azriel confirmed in that no-nonsense voice of his. “While I prep the meat. I do hope you like rabbit,” he added drily.
“Oh good,” she muttered, grabbing a knife and started to peel away at the potatoes. “Did you hunt it?”
“Yes,” he confirmed, his voice neutral. Zahra bit back a snarky remark and focused on the potatoes. 
They worked like that in silence. Him preparing the meat, her peeling the potatoes and the carrots.
It was odd. This whole thing was odd. Sitting and cooking with Azriel. She hadn’t even known he could cook. 
And yet…it was comfortable. Like the silence wasn’t awkward and neither of them felt the need to break it. It was a comfortable domestic kind of silence. Like they had done this a thousand times before. 
“How are you with spicy food?” Azriel asked her after he had taken the potatoes from her. 
Zahra blinked in surprise. “I have a pretty good tolerance, why?” she asked, curious. 
“All the food I can cook is Illyrian,” Azriel answered drily. “I learned from Rhys’ mother and later from my own. It’s spicy.”
“I can handle a bit of spice,” she assured him. “It should be fine.” He nodded in response. 
The sound of the fire crackling in the stove and him stirring up the meat were the only sounds filling the kitchen as they continued their work. 
Zahra honestly had no idea Azriel could cook. He didn’t seem like the type of male who spent time cooped up in the kitchen, making meals. It was a little surprising. 
And yet, the scents of spices and rabbit were filling her kitchen right now... It smelled almost heavenly. 
She hadn’t smelled something as heavenly in a long time. And her stomach growled in response to the delicious scents of food. Zahra tried to remember when she’d last eaten something actually decent, but she couldn’t think straight. The food was distracting her.
“You look half starved,” Azriel observed in a deadpanned tone and she snapped her head up only to find him looking at her. 
His eyes were focused on her, a frown playing on his forehead. “When was the last time you actually ate something properly?” he asked her, his voice firm. 
She averted her gaze. “I don’t know,” she muttered, looking away from him and to the pot bubbling on the stove. “Maybe a week ago?” 
He was silent for a moment. “That long?” he asked her, his voice carefully neutral. She just shrugged in response to keep herself from admitting that she actually couldn’t remember exactly. 
He poured hot, thick stew into a bowl for her and then put it in front of her, holding out cutlery for her to take. “Why are you doing this?” Zahra asked him weakly.
“Because I wish somehow had done it for me,” Azriel responded
That simple statement made her blink in surprise. It was not an answer she had been expecting. She bit her lip, not really sure what to say. 
And then he simply said. “Eat. You look like you’d blow away at the slightest breeze.”
She should have been angered by that blunt statement, but somehow she wasn’t. 
So Zahra ate.
The food tasted incredibly good. She had to admit that the Shadowsinger was talented with cooking. The food was spiced just perfectly, hot and filled with flavour. 
Every bite made her realize just how incredibly hungry she was. Her stomach filled slowly and the hunger abated with every spoonful. It was like her insides started to come back to life. The numbness was slowly disappearing, replaced by an odd sort of warmth flowing through her limbs. 
"Thank you," she finally said weakly.
Azriel just nodded at her, watching her eat. “Of course,” he murmured and continued with his own food. 
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thewisaaaaad · 21 hours
Text
AWWW FUCK
In my sleep deprived state, I have created YET ANOTHER AU by smashing together several ideas in my head, along with being inspired by @kamodofilez bells of the dammed au. Sorry for pinging you, but CREDIT IS DUE.
When am I going to run out of these oh lamb
Anyways here's the au. I call it the Regretful Hunter AU, no idea if i am going to continue with this.
In this AU, neither the lamb nor Narinder really wanted to fight.
As soon as Narinder heard the new prophecy through Ratau, he knew exactly what would happen.
Five becomes nothing? He wasn't stupid. He was going to fall too, just like all his siblings.
Good. It was what he deserved. It was what he wanted.
Narinder did the fight because he was actually tired of being the god of death, saw that the lamb was way better at being god than any of his siblings were, and wanted to pass the mantle. Of course, due to pride and family trauma, they couldn't just hand it over, so he tried to goad the lamb into killing him. He... doesn't really consider how Aym and Baal would feel about it. He forgot they were people, honestly, until it was too late to care.
The lamb, meanwhile, was totally chill with dying. They felt that they were OK at playing leader, but was ready to hand over the reins to the god that gave them the opportunity to take revenge for their people.
They were fully ready to let go, and see their family again in the afterlife. After all that had happened, they were just. So. Tired.
However, fate has ways of getting what it wants- including puppeting its victims. The lamb was conscious the whole time as they were forced to fight the person that gave them everything they had ever wanted and slay his guardians. They were just glad that they didn't have to kill him.
Narinder was less than pleased with the mercy. When the guilt of what he had done set in, he ran away from the cult before the lamb could explain what happened.
He planned on going out, finding a nice cliff with some sharp rocks at the bottom, and ending it once and for all.
Turns out, ending your life by your own hands is a lot harder than he thought. It can be pretty scary, standing at the edge.
He blames his mortality, of course.
Lamb, meanwhile, goes into a depression induced stupor, the young god just going through the motions of running a cult. ???'s arrival makes it a little easier, by giving them a goal to work towards, but they never stop hoping to find Narinder again. They know hes not dead yet.
They would feel it.
Narinder continues to survive in the forest, hunting critters using plumbata, or throwing arrows, made from stolen arrows. He goes around, surviving while cursing his cowardice, until one day he wanders through Silkcradle, looking for spiders to hunt.
Instead, he finds a panda and a skunk in mortal danger. Before, he would have let them die, for obviously if they had wanted to live then they would not have come here, doubly so for the panda who could have just never come to the lands of the old faith at all.
But now? Now he understands the fear of the end. How it can creep up on you without knowledge of its presence, how a foolish decision can seem like the best one to make in the moment.
So he saves them. They, of course, ask for his name.
He does not give it. Instead, he gives them the location of paradise, where they will be safe. When asked why he does not go there himself, he answers that "I had lost my right to that place long ago."
When Jalala and Rinor arrive at the lambs cult, they tell the lamb of the kind stranger who saved them, the cat with three red eyes.
The lamb gets excited. He's still out there. And he wishes he could be here.
They just have to talk to him.
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copinghex · 1 day
Text
Basis | T.S
Summary: "His day had been awful, the stock market crash gave him an awful headache, his family certainly would be against any solution he could possibly find and at last, her words made him stumble and crash"
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The house was uncharacteristically cold for an autumn night, the wind whistled through the windows crevices and that was the only sound to be heard, even the maids' heels were silenced by the fall of the night.
The crash of the stock market affected the Shelby company to levels no one could foresee, since everyone assumed their currency was safe in Michael's hands. They were far from bankruptcy, as a matter of fact they would never have to worry about going back to the Watery Lane again, but the concern was inevitable.
The big clock in the hallway announced midnight and Y/N jumped at the sound of the heavy pendulum, usually the maids kept the clock from making any noise so it wouldn't disturb Tommy's light sleep, it seemed that tonight they forgot to.
Before entering her shared bedroom, she waited to see if the bang had woken up her baby, no cry was heard, making it feel like she was alone in the house.
However, she wasn't, Tommy sat at her dressing table brooding with a glass of whiskey, his shoulders hung low and he barely noticed her presence. She knew that state of him very well, he was stuck into his mind, thoughts running in his head like a down spiral.
She approached him slowly, as if he was a wounded war horse. Her gentle hand squeezed his shoulder, the tense muscles fitted on her palm begging to be looked after. 
All Tommy offered as an answer was a slow blink and another sip of his whiskey, the bottle was full earlier that evening and almost empty by then. Y/N didn't doubt he had a high resistance to alcohol and yet, she couldn't help but worry.
"So what have you decided? I know Linda didn't let you speak," she referred to the family meeting they had.
"Nothing yet," Tommy mumbled, "fucking nothing," 
She took the glass from his hand before he could take another sip, a few drops trickled on his trousers and he cursed trying to take it back. In a quick gulp, she finished the drink.
"What are you doing, Tom?" she scolded.
"Y/N please," he sighed, "not now, not fucking now," 
"Look at state of you, stand up, Tommy," she demanded, but he didn't move at all, "fucking stand up!"
Tommy's eyes widened as she pulled him up with all her strength, he stumbled on his stool and firmly held onto her arms, certainly the spots would get sore later.
"Are you drunk?" she asked quietly, the look in her eyes didn't hide the concern and Tommy didn't have the heart to push her away.
However, he didn't answer, instead his rough hands traveled to her nape and tangled his fingertips on her hair. At that moment he was unable to express the relief only her presence brought, he was certain that he'd go mad if he had to deal with everything alone.
Tommy stared at her gentle eyes and she stared back. The face she very much loved was forming wrinkles, gray hair hid itselves in his well drawn eyebrows, above everything he looked exhausted.
Cupping his cheeks, she traced the scars on his cheek and under his chin, a wave of overwhelming affection washed over her,
"You're my basis, Tommy," she whispered, "I know I don't say it often, I know I don't say it enough, but the truth is that none of this would make sense without you," 
Tommy hid the shock her words caused by looking down at his own feet, he was beyond surprised. So he wasn't just an income, someone actually cared for him, the idea nearly brought tears to his eyes, he always thought being loved would be comfortable and relieving, but it only formed a knot in his throat.
He didn't see himself as worthy of love, especially not hers. Tommy couldn't tell exactly when he started to think she should leave him, he only thought someday she would and he wouldn't have the right to complain, because he was well aware dealing with him was a burden.
Noticing a single tear running down his face, she quickly brushed it off and pulled him to her arms. His chin rested on her shoulder as he held his breath, a trick to keep himself from crying he learnt in his childhood.
Nevertheless, he wasn't able to keep up with it when her hands traveled through his back. While one held the back of his neck, the other traced his spine with gentle, yet firm pressure, next moving to his shoulder blades and lower back. 
At last, her embrace became tighter around him, assuring Tommy's silent cry it was okay to come out, if it wasn't for the movement of his back and the tears wetting her clothes, she wouldn't believe such simple words had that effect on him. The truth was, Tommy was much more fragile than he let show. 
"It's alright, let it out," she soothed, petting the shaven back of his head, "I got you,"
Five, ten, twenty minutes passed and Tommy started to try controlling his breath, he knew that if he fully let himself go his cry would become compulsive, the tears would run down without control and turn an intimate moment into a humiliating one.
Slowly, he breathed in and out, laying his head on her shoulder. She tried to look him in the eyes, but Tommy quickly hid his face on her neck, he'd hate to be seen with teary eyes and wet cheeks.
He held onto her clothes tightly, at the same time her scent calmed him down, the gentleness she offered made him want to cry again.
"I'm sorry," he sobbed, "I'm fucking sorry,"
"It's alright, love, don't apologize," guiding him to bed, she held him in her arms.
Running a hand through his hair, Y/N respected his wish to hide, the bridge of his nose fitted on her neck as his wet eyelashes brushed on her skin. His day had been awful, the stock market crash gave him an awful headache, his family certainly would be against any solution he could possibly find and at last, her words made him stumble and crash. 
Eventually, Tommy's eyelids got heavy, her warmth relaxed his tired muscles and he felt safe enough to let the worries slip away. He fell asleep with his head on her shoulder.
Realizing he was asleep, Y/N took the opportunity of doing the same, in the last few months sleeping near him had become a rare occurrence. 
Hours went by, enough for the wind gusts to dissipate and a storm to form. The heavy, gray clouds covered the moon in the dark sky, releasing thick rain drops that hit the window with brutal force. 
The noise woke Tommy up, he lifted his head to see his wife in deep slumber, he didn't know how much time passed, but he felt less tired, it had been a long time since he took a nap without waking up from time to time. 
Peeking at the clock at the bed table, he squeezed his eyes shut and sighed, four in the morning wasn't exactly a proper hour to wake up, especially if he had slept past midnight.
A sleepy noise from Y/N captured his focus again, his eyes wandered to the drawer in which he kept his opium bottle and he quickly came back at her. Finally, he decided to not disturb her sleep, well aware he probably wouldn't fall asleep again, Tommy snuggled to her and closed his eyes. He wouldn't say it back, but she was also his basis. 
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maddy-ferguson · 1 year
Note
im tired of ppl using headcanon stuff as proofs on the show. ''mike never stopped calling will.'' yeah no, that is not canon at all, lmao. you guys just took dustin's words and used it as some sort of a canon thing to prove that mike called. c'mon guys... canonically it doesnt make much sense anyways bc it doesnt fit. because mike learned abt joyce's job at the beginning of the season after el sent her letter. unless the duffers just made a mistake and screwed the time, it doesn't make any sense for mike to have called will constantly or 'complaining' due to joyce's job when he just learned abt joyce's job at the beginning of the season after reading el's letters. for all we know mike didnt send any letters to will, and they just only talked for a couple of times. like. that's the canon. we cannot just take something and treat it as canon and come up with criticism based on that. same as the 'lettergate' situation, for all we know mike just didnt bother writing and he didnt have a present. also u cannot really blame will either. for all he knew, the situation was just a repeat of S3. and we know what happened in S3. just a casual 'what if u wanna join another party' doesn't fix the issue at hand, and it literally didnt either. so.
okay, yes, this is what i was saying in the tags of this and what this post i reblogged earlier is about!!! you can't just say "mike 100% called and we don't even know if will called so will is equally to blame for the fact that they didn't keep in touch/for their rink o mania fight". i mean you can but i'll disagree every time because there's this little thing that happened between them that never got resolved that totally explains why will would be hesitant to reach out...who out of the two of them was rebuffed the last time he tried to show that this friendship was important to him? who was crying in the rain and calling himself stupid over it? as a very wise woman once said, i would've wanted mike to make a little bit of an effort too after that tf
and the thing is, if it turns out mike didn't call/doesn't have any unsent letters i'm not gonna be mad at him? they both have reasons for not reaching out. people being more forgiving of will probably has to do with the fact that his reasons are you know. not speculation
as for the technicalities surrounding the theory, the job part of it just doesn't add up to me like i...have spent a very long time thinking about it, it's april and i still don't get it. and as people have pointed out el can't use the phone and there's a walkie talkie in her room and all that but yk. idk. and i like lettergate and i like mikeactuallycalledgate but at the end of the day they're just theories you know
#either way i don't get the job thing because dustin says mike won't stop whining about it like he's been whining for some time which#means that el's letter is old (which i guess it could be) or that like...mike already knew about joyce's job before reading the letter?#like if he just learned about the job in ep 1 why won't he stop whining about it. is it a hyperbole. idk i don't get it.#my second paragraph isn't me doubting byler or like denying the fact that mike is OBVIOUSLY going through something too like i said they#both have reasons to not reach out. it's just that you can't exactly blame people for being biased when one's reasons are...out there#and the other's are: not. i know we're on byler tumblr and a lot of things are known to everyone but like do you see what i'm getting at?#one thing i'll give you is that trying to force your friends to play with you when they obviously couldn't give less of a fuck is...not#a very good strategy and also it was hurtful too when my friends didn't care about my crush of the week in middle school. i personally#never told them to grow up and accidentally called them gay over it though lol!#and i've also been will with the getting your friends to do something they don't care about i've told this story before when i was 12 my#friends literally WROTE ME A LETTER (they wouldn't even say it to my face!!!! they gave it to me and i was like what is this and they were#like uhjustwaitforustoleavewellseeyouonmondaybye and left before i could read) telling me to stop talking about one direction. and i didn't#even talk about them that much because i knew they only liked them a little while i was a Directioner. i never talked about them again#after that lolll#see how i did something for the will is always 100% in the right allegations#ask
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yuukiiqwq · 5 months
Text
Satoru was confident that you liked him back. He was positive. He had no doubt in his mind that you were going to be his pretty little wife. Is he getting ahead of himself? Sure, he is, but he's that confident. That's until he noticed how he hadn't received any chocolate from you.
It was Valentine's Day, and he still hasn't received any chocolate from you. Yeah, he had a mountain worth of chocolate from all those people who gave him it, but where was yours? He couldn't find it anywhere. He was sure that you would have placed your chocolate on his desk since you hadn't given him his. He double no triple checked all the chocolates, yet he could not find the one that has your pretty little name written on it. He continued to search through the chocolate pile for the fourth time today.
He must have missed it, right? Or did someone steal it? He swear he's going to hunt that person to the end of the Earth. Who dared to steal something that was rightfully his?
"Satoru, calm down."
He looked up at his best friend, who was trying to hold down a laugh at his panic.
"She'll probably give it to you later. The day just begun."
Right. Suguru is right. You'll give him his chocolate later. He's a good boy. He can wait.
That's what he told himself, but Suguru and Shoko have already received theirs this morning, and his is still nowhere to be found. Where is his chocolate? You're just sitting there in your seat, looking all pretty as if Satoru is not going through a huge dilemma because of you.
He couldn't help his hands that kept inching itself closer to the chocolate you gave Suguru. He wouldn't know if he snatched it, right? Suguru had received a lot of chocolate! He wouldn't know if he took it... was what he convinced himself before Suguru slapped his hand away.
"Satoru," he sighs.
"But Suguru!!!" Satoru whined as he sunk down into his seat.
"Be patient. You'll get yours soon."
But how soon is soon? Satoru isn't exactly known for his patient.
It was the end of the day, and still no chocolate from you. He asked Suguru and Shoko to leave first because he thought you would finally give it to him when both of you were alone. But you haven't. Where was his chocolate?
The two of you were approaching the exit of school, so Satoru made a quick decision, grabbing your wrist and pulling you into an empty classroom. He quickly shut the door and locked it.
"Satoru?" You asked in confusion. "What's wrong?"
"My chocolate."
"Your chocolate?"
"My chocolate from you! The symbol of your love towards me!"
"I didn't make you any," you replied smoothly. "Forgot to make them yesterday, so I woke up early today to make them, but I guess not early enough. I only had time to finish Shoko's and Suguru's. I didn't have time to make yours. Otherwise, I would have been late."
Satoru swear the world just ended. He looked down at his chest because he swears his heart ripped out of his chest at your words. Nope. Still alive. Why is he still alive in this cruel world? You had no chocolate for him? None? Not even a crumb?
"That's fine with you, right? I mean, you got a bunch of chocolate from other girls! You don't need mine."
He swear he is about to burst into tears. He didn't care about other girls. He didn't care about their chocolate. He wanted yours. How could you be so cruel and deny him of your chocolate? To reject him like this? He was devastated. No. Beyond devastated. Where is the closest cliff so he can jump off?
Pure silence radiated the room as Satoru tried to comprehend this horrible situation. Then he heard a small giggle slip pass your lips. That small giggle soon turns into a full-out laugh.
"You should have seen the look on your face, Satoru," you say as you try to stop laughing.
Was this funny to you? Why were you laughing at his suffering? Do you know how much he looked forward to today? To receive the cute little wrapped up chocolate you made for him? He dreamed of today, and you didn't have chocolate for him?
He then sees you reach into your bag and pull out exactly what he had imagined. A cute little chocolate box wrapped up in a baby blue color with a touch of white ribbon to finish it off. Fuck. He thinks he just got a heart attack seeing your chocolate. His chocolate.
"Princess, please don't joke like that to me ever again. You scared me half to death. I was going to jump off a cliff," he whined as he took the chocolate from your hand.
You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his dramatic behavior. "Stop being dramatic, Satoru. It's just chocolate."
A look of offense dawned his face as you utter those horrendous words to him.
"Chocolate? Just chocolate?" He huffed at you. He can't believe you as you treat this amazing god send gift as just chocolate. "Don't you dare call this just chocolate! This! This right here is proof of your undying love towards me!"
You laughed at his antics– "You're getting ahead of yourself, Satoru."
He delicately placed the chocolate safety away in his bag, treating it as a prized possession. He's looking forward towards white day. He already knows what he wants to get for you. He pulled you into a hug, nuzzling his face against your neck as he mutters– "You won't be saying that after I wife you up."
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adelliet · 1 month
Text
Wolverine x f!reader
5 DAYS IN HEAVEN
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Summary: Since Wade is going away on a mission, he asks you to take care of his roommate. At first you will refuse, but in the end you will be so freaking grateful.
Warnings: MDNI 18+, age gap, strong language, masturbation, breast play, oral sex (f!receiving), unprotected sex (p i v), little blood, reader is smaller than Logan
A/n: This is so freaking long I'm so terribly sorry I got really into it, so I am sorry if there will be some grammar mistakes or some parts that won't make sense, I'm not a native English speaker, anyways enjoy <3
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"Fuck no Wade!" you shut your eyes as you frustrated shouted. "Please I need this!" he kept trying to convince you, reaching for your hands but you flinched. "I'm not going to make you a fucking housewife, have you lost your mind?" you asked, beginning to doubt about men's IQ at this point. “Not for me but for Logan” he corrected you as if that made a difference. “It's literally the same” you turned your back as you walked into the kitchen, Wade following you like a dog on a leash. "Please, I'll do anything!"
You stopped for a second. You've never heard Wade so desperate and you've known him for five years and as a neighbor, you know his behavior very well, this is not like him at all.
"Why do you care about him so much?" you asked, leaning against the fridge with your hands tied across your chest. "He's my bestfriend! I love him-" "Okay now it's getting weird" you turned around again as you poured some water into a clean glass.
"Please I can't lose him because he starved, I need my fuckbuddy-" you almost choked as you heard Wade's words while drinking. Never drink while Wade is talking, noted. "And why can't you just take him with you?" you turn around and furrow your eyebrows. "It's not that easy pumpkin" you rolled your eyes but didn't give up to find some other way.
"So he would order fast food, what's the matter?" "Do I look like I have enough money to feed a giant who eats like a beast?" you sigh in annoyance as you slowly realize that there probably isn't other way to solve this. "Wade, I can't cook for him-" "Why not? You're the best cook I know! Please, just for five days, no more!"
When you saw his beggar eyes, you had no choice. You sigh loudly and close your eyes as your head drops. "Fine." You growl and immediately regretted your decision as Wade grabbed you and spun you around at breakneck speed. "Jesus alright stop I'm gonna throw up!" Wade placed you back on the floor and you struggled to keep your balance. But when your vision was no longer blurry, Wade’s excited face warmed your heart. "Thank you so much! I owe you I swear!"
He gave you one last kiss on the cheek before he left your apartment. You could hear him excitedly screaming in the hallway, even on his way to his apartment. You chuckle and shake your head, he is really a child stuck in a 30 year old body.
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You don't really know Logan. You know that he moved in with Wade and they started living together, but you never found out why. Besides, you didn't even have much interaction with him, mainly because of his expression.
He still looks angry and sour, whenever you see him in the hall, you try to avoid him, because his stern expression sent you dread and goosebumps all over your body. Unlike Wade, he didn't look like a friendly neighbor who comes to visit you when he needs sugar or flour.
Rather, he looked exactly like the neighbor who just complains about you every chance he gets. You were a little afraid of the deal, going to cook for him and who knows what will happen if he doesn't like it. What if he spits on you? Or do anything worse?
You were only comforted by the thought that you would only go to him a few times a day and then you could lock yourself away and be safe. Your thoughts about Logan and the whole deal were interrupted by an aggressive pounding on your door. You immediately knew who it was.
You sighed when you saw Wade in the doorway, rudely barging into your apartment without asking. But you're used to it.
"So when are you moving in?" your eyes almost fell out of their sockets when Wade threw this question at you without hesitation. "What are you talking about?!" you tried not to think the worst, unfortunately it was the worst. "Well, you'll be living in my apartment during my absence-" you pointed index finger at him and shook him. "No no no, you didn't say that!" Wade stopped. "I thought it was obvious..."
Your heart was beating a hundred and six and your blood was at boiling point. "Wade! I'm not living with that psychopath!" you lost your shit and started screaming at him. Wade was still calm. “He's not that bad” you were shocked at his words and how easily he was letting them out of his mouth.
"Wade! What if he kills me?" Wade rolled his eyes and shook his head. "He won't kill you, don't worry, if something happens stab him...even though it probably wouldn't help" you started being red from how angry you were. "Why can't I stay here?" you finally asked him the main question.
"You know, I'm afraid something will happen to him, I want you to watch over him" you just started to mock Wade’s patheticness. Oh you are so done. "No….no! I am not gonna do it" "Ah come on sweetheart" Wade grabbed your hands so tightly that you couldn't even break free from his grip.
"I swear I'll give you anything for this, I'll be grateful to you for the rest of my life...just 5 days, please" even as you fought with every nerve and muscle in your body to refuse, his convincing eyes got you again and you let out an annoyed breath.
Wade immediately understood that you agreed and pulled you into a tight hug. "Thankyouthankyouthankyou" he kept thanking you and you started seeing stars for a moment from his tight grip. Again and again you regretted your decision and wanted to get a fake passport, change your identity and fly far away. Unfortunately, this option will not work.
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First day
The time had come for you to introduce yourself to Logan and move in. You only had a small bag over your shoulders, where were your clothes, hygiene items and necessary things. Even if you miss something, you can always go to the apartment next door, aka your home.
“Look, I'm just warning you, Logan can be a little…rude sometimes” Wade told you and you nodded. You already deduced that yourself from his face expressions. Even so, you wanted to be nice and make an impression on him, maybe he'll be a little softer if he sees you smiling.
“Alright, here we go” Wade looked even more nervous than you. When he grabbed the doorknob and went inside, Logan was nowhere to be found. You slowly followed Wade, looking for the grumpy big guy. But suddenly the door to the room opened and the famous, rude Logan came out.
He was wearing a brown shirt and jeans with a belt, now that you had a chance to get a good look at him, he didn't look so bad. "Logan!" Wade squealed excitedly while Logan still had a stern look on his face.
When his eyes landed on you, he didn't move a single muscle, unlike you. You were sweating, your smile was twitching but you tried to keep your cool. "Who is that?" he pointed at you and slowly walked closer. "So glad you're asking, Logan, this is your temporary housewife"
You were quiet but still smiling, while holding your hand for a shake. Logan rolled his eyes and moved his head from your sight in annoyance. That's a nice welcoming. "I don't fucking need her" you would be lying if those words didn't touch you a little, but Wade warned you, so you were at least half prepared for it.
You slowly dropped your hand back to your body and looked at Wade in confusion. "Well if he doesn't need me, I can go-" "No! Stay!" he grabbed your shoulder and looked angrily at Logan. "We already talk about this, be nice" he hissed through his clenched teeth and Logan just sighed. He looked back at you, that annoyed look still on his face. He was literally screaming through that face that he wants to kick you out and he really doesn't want you here. Your smile slowly dropped and you started overthinking, how the following 5 days would look like, with this grumpy rude man.
"Good kitty" Wade complimented Logan who growled back at him. "Well, the kitchen is over there, I'll show you your room and then I'll have to go, the mission awaits!" Wade got behind you and pushed you forward past Logan, who was staring at you but still with an annoyed and slightly confused expression.
"Well, put your things here and I have to go. Bye bye and thank you, I owe you” Wade quickly led you into the guest room, patting you on the shoulders before disappearing out of the apartment, leaving you and the curmudgeon alone.
You just let out a tired sigh before putting your bag on the floor and looking around the room. It was small but cozy. Even the view from the window wasn't bad, certainly better than in your own apartment.
“What's your name again?” you suddenly heard a deep growl and you quickly flinched as you quickly turned towards the voice. Logan was leaning against the doorframe, his hands wrapped around his chest, his biceps nearly tearing through the soft fabric he was wearing.You swallowed before looking into his face again and began to speak.
“Y/N…yours is Logan right? you tried to be nice again, thinking that the beginning was just a misunderstanding. God you are so pathetic. “Guess” he replied arrogantly and you pursed your lips into a thin line as embarrassment flooded your entire body.
"'kay...well it's kinda late, I'll go prepare some food" you informed him and Logan just nodded before walking off to who knows where. You were relieved when he left. As if his presence made you nervous, but not because of fear, but rather because of another feeling that you couldn't quite describe.
You came to the kitchen and started to assemble the ingredients on the counter. You decided to make spaghetti since that was the only thing they had all the ingredients for and looking around the fridge made you want to buy more stuff tomorrow. Apart from milk, some old rotting food and beer, they had nothing at all, men.
When you were almost done with the spaghetti, it was as if the smell summoned Logan without you having to say anything. He suddenly appeared in the kitchen watching you put spaghetti on two plates and pour tomato sauce over them. “I hope you like spaghetti” you said looking at Logan who surprisingly wasn't looking at the food like you thought, but at you. That caught you off guard a bit but not for too long.
"Mhm yeah" he said and immediately grabbed the plate when you finally added the basil leaves. Why are you even trying to decorate the food, you are not in a fancy restaurant here, but at Wade’s home. You just rolled your eyes and put noodles on your own plate. Logan's hungry chewing was making your ears pop and you couldn't wait to enjoy your dinner in quiet in your room.
No sooner had you added the spaghetti to your plate and decided to go into your room to eat, than Logan was already done with his food and obediently put the plate in the sink. Your eyes widened, Wade was right, this man eats like a beast.
"Do you want more?" he just shook his head as he wiped his red mouth with his hand and went straight into his own room. "m'kay" you whispered to yourself and since he left the living room, you decided to change your plan and eat while watching some TV.
This isn't so bad. If Logan answers with two words and doesn't have any long conversations with you where he just taunts you, 5 days will go by like nothing.
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Second day
You got up early because of the annoying alarm and went to get ready for work. You changed into comfortable but formal clothes, put on some make-up and took your bag. When you left the room, no one was there. You sighed with a smile and went straight to the front door.
Apparently Logan doesn't go to work, which you were a little envious of. He can sleep as long as he wants, then practically do whatever he wants for days, surely he must be a little bored if he's not saving the world.
"Where you're goin'?" you froze in a place when you heard Logan. You slowly turned around, and your eyes widened even more. He had nothing on than boxers, revealing his muscles, abs, and perfect body, which made your saliva fly from your lips.
You quickly wiped it off and looked back into his face. God he was hot. His hair was messy but fluffy, his face looked relaxed and tired but that stern look wasn't there anymore. "I- I am goin' to work" you answered with a shaky voice, for which you immediately cursed.
"What work?" his voice was also grainy and deep, he was literally hypnotizing you right now. "Why do you care?" you finally gain your confidence back and he rolled his eyes. "Geez just askin'" he went to the bathroom without saying bye or something like that. You didn't mind, the only thing that was bothering your brain was, why was he so interested?
Just yesterday he didn't want you here at all and now he's worried about you, that you'll leave him? You probably just overthinking. You took your keys and left the apartment as fast as you could.
When you arrived at the restaurant, your colleagues greeted you and you put on the fake mask with a smile. You changed into your suit and went to the kitchen to wash the dishes with the others.
"Hey everything okay? You look pretty frustrated" one of your colleagues asked and it took you a while to process his question. "What? Oh no it's nothing don't worry" you added a convincing smile at the end of the sentence and continued washing. Of course you're frustrated when you have nothing but Logan in your head, his body, his speech, his hair... this is going to be a fucking tough day.
When your shift ended, you were surprised you hadn't been fired. You were confused all day, mixing up orders, got in the way of your colleagues and even burned food a few times. Each of your colleagues asked you several times if everything was okay and you always gave the same answer. Yes, it is. You didn't understand it yourself, how could you be so stupid today and burn the food? This hasn't happened to you in at least 5 years...
All this happened because of your constant thoughts about Logan. You don't even know how it's possible. After all, he's Logan, the guy you were afraid of and would do anything to avoid him...but that was before you've seen him shirtless in boxers. God those thighs, just thinking about them makes your core vibrate.
Frustrated, devastated and tired, you arrived at your temporary apartment, threw your bag on the floor and leaned against the door with your eyes closed. "Tough day?" you hear that annoying but really sexy voice again, but this time it wasn't in your head.
You open your eyes and saw Logan, sitting on the couch with a can of beer, at least this time he was fully dressed. You didn't even have the strength to answer him with words, you just nodded your head. After that you crawled into your room where you had to clear your head for a while, you laid in bed and just stared at the ceiling.
After a while you heard footsteps, but luckily they crossed your room. Was it really fortunate, or rather unfortunately? Your head was a total mess. Now you could use a hot bath with rose petals and a candle around. This actually didn't sound bad at all, so you decided to indulge.
You got out of bed and went straight to the bathroom where you filled the bath and let out a tired sigh. You probably won't have rose petals and candles, but the bathtub is more than enough. You closed the door, not even bothering about locking it, and took off your clothes. When the water was almost full, you turned the water off and lay down in it, a pleasant growl left your mouth, when the hot water covers all your body. You feel more relaxed than ever.
You closed your eyes and in the blink of an eye, all of your fails today and thoughts of Logan were gone. You listened to the water and the silence around you which was more pleasant than ever before. You felt like you were going to fall asleep in no time, this was exactly what you needed. Until you heard the door slam open.
You flinched and immediately looked at them in fear. Logan eyes widened a bit, when he saw you in the bathtub, but after that one second look he looked down immediately, embarrassed. "Sorry" he said and left the bathroom before you could react in any way.
You were shocked, did Logan really think you wouldn't notice the quick check out before he looks down? Well, now you will definitely not stop thinking about him and it's all your fault. If you'd just locked the stupid door, this wouldn't have happened.
You came out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel holding your clothes in your hand. You got another jumpscare when Logan was standing by the bathroom, leaning against the wall. How long was he there? Was he waiting for you or was he eavesdropping on you? You had so many questions but so little time.
"Hey um sorry for that" he didn't even look you in the eyes, apparently he's really sorry. "It's fine just, did you see anything?" Logan took a deep breath and looked into your eyes, giving you a clear sign that he saw something. "Oh my god-" you slammed your hand against your forehead and started flushing.
"Not everything! Just um..." "Stop. Just, act like it didn't happen okay?" you were even more frustrated than before and Logan could tell. He just nodded and walked around you to get into the bathroom. You cursed under your breath and walked into your room, where you finally locked the door and fell into bed.
Is it some kind of sign or bad karma that this is happening to you? First you see him almost naked, then he sees you, why do you deserve this? But the question that really played over and over in your head was, did he like what he saw?
He would have covered his eyes or closed the door immediately, but he just stood there watching you for a while longer. Maybe he was in shock, just like you, and you're overthinking again, or maybe not…
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Third day
You got up in the morning like you always did, did your morning routine and left for work, this time no Logan, no comments from him and it made you feel better. You knew that today was going to be a lot better than yesterday.
You didn't even have to put on a fake mask at work, you smiled for real because you had peace of mind from Logan both in your head and in the apartment in the morning. "Hey why so happy?" your colleague asked and you just shook your head. "I just slept well" which was not entirely true.
You couldn't stop thinking about that motherfucker all night. The way he looked when he saw you in that bathtub, how embarrassed he felt but also looked shy, which you would never say to such a tough guy. How he talks to you much more warmly now and how he even washes his dishes without you telling him to do it. You even had a dream about him that wasn't exactly innocent with rainbows and roses, rather the opposite. But that didn't stop you from having a bad day at work. Until you heard the familiar grumpy voice again.
"Is she here?!" "Sir, you can't talk to her right now-" "I just want to know if she works here!" oh no. You heard the angry punch into the table and knew you had to intervene. You stopped working and went from the kitchen to the restaurant behind the cash register, where was none other than the ass Logan. When he saw you, he immediately calmed down and straightened up.
"Hey, what's going on here?" you asked confused, trying to ignore Logan as best you could. "Um this gentleman is asking for you, is he your boyfriend?" "Fuck no!" you shouted, maybe a bit too much then was a necessary and looked at Logan. "The fuck you doin' here?!" this time you keep your voice low but still rough. Logan took a breath to speak but before he could, you grabbed him and went to the corner, so you won't bother the other customers.
"I um" you were surprised that he was out of words. "Goddammit just tell me!" "I was just curious where you workin' okay?! That's all..." although you haven't known Logan very long and well, you could tell he was lying. However, you didn't have time to investigate the truth so you just let out an annoyed breath.
"You can't be that aggressive here! If you don't order anything, get out!" and with those words you left him behind while walking back into the kitchen. Not gonna lie but you felt a little confident when you did this but you also felt a little guilty.
You are not the aggressive bad type like him, you find sympathy in people and you are a peaceful person who tries not to have a conflict with almost anyone. Logan is a really tough piece.
"Everything fine?" you coworker asked while frying some vegetables and you just nodded. How could you be so naive to think you'd slip through today without a single thought about Logan? You really are pathetic.
When you finished your last order, said goodbye to your colleagues and went to change clothes, fatigue hit you again. Today was better than yesterday, you were more focused and you didn't burn anything, but you still weren't yourself. You were still consumed by your thoughts and memories that your brain repeated over and over again, it was driving you crazy.
The only thing you hoped for now was that last night and the incident with Logan wouldn't happen again. You still can't tell if you liked it or not, but what you know for sure is that you can't stop thinking about that.
You left the kitchen ready to go home until you saw Logan sitting in one of the dining booths, alone, half asleep. He scared you again, like always, and you didn't know what to do, how to react, or what to say. When Logan saw you, he immediately stood up and was like a fresh fish.
"You're done?" he asked, like it wasn't weird at all that he is there sitting and waiting for you like your dad. "W-what are you doing here?" "I was waiting..." he didn't finish the sentence but he clearly meant that he was waiting for you. "Why?" you furrow your eyebrows in suspicion.
"It's pretty dark out there, something may happen" why is he so caring suddenly? Was he really waiting for you here all day, just to give you a walk home? Why? "I've been walking in the dark for years Logan and nothing happened to me" you informed him arrogantly and headed for the exit. Logan chased you like an obedient dog. "You never know" he added and quickly held the door for you like a true gentleman. You paused at his act for a moment before walking out and Logan following.
It was an awkward silent walk next to each other where you said so much but nothing at all. The street was quiet, hardly any cars passed by, and the glowing lamps around gave a pleasant atmosphere. You felt good, and maybe Logan's presence added something to that. After all, you were afraid to walk alone in the evening, even though nothing had happened to you yet, but with him you felt different, safe.
"What's for dinner?" Logan finally broke the quiet silence and struck up a conversation. "Oh um I don't know...maybe salad? If you don't mind there won't be any meat in it" Logan chuckled, hearing that laugh make your heart a little warmer. "Salad sound's good" he said as you arrive at the building.
When you got into the apartment you expected Logan to go take a shower or lock himself in his room like he always did, but this time was different. When you took off your coat and hung it on the hanger, Logan was standing in the kitchen waiting for you. You raise an eyebrow and throw a confused look at him. "You're that excited for the food or?" he shook his head and smiled. That's right, he smiled. You had no idea when did his tough-guy personality snap, but he is way nicer to you and you can't say you don't like it.
"Nope, I was thinking that I could help you..." you froze and just stared at him, still with that raised eyebrow. You were shocked, you didn't recognize him anymore. Logan notices your behavior, immediately having regrets. "but only if you want to-" "No! I mean yeah s-sure" you finally woke up and walked around Logan to get things ready. However, you couldn't escape the smirk that formed on your face.
As you pulled out the bowls and cutlery, you felt Logan's presence behind you. He was huge compared to you, covering you completely and you almost held your breath when you felt him almost touching your body. "What should I do?" he asked, his voice grainy, deep and low like a wolf, making you tremble from excitement.
You needed a second to answer him without any mistake or stuttering. “You can take the vegetables out of the fridge” you pointed your head at the fridge next to you and without a word Logan did as you told him. He put everything on the counter next to you and you couldn't help but watch his hands, how big and hairy they were and a lot of scenarios automatically appeared in your head of what you would like him to do to you with them.
"That's all we have" he breathed out and finally stood next to you, so that his dick wasn't touching your ass anymore. "That's fine, we can make something from that" you grabbed the cucumber and started removing the wrapper. Logan was watching you, really carefully and constantly watching your hand, the way you were holding that cucumber, the way you were taking off the wrapper, god he immediately started getting goosebumps and his dick started twitching in his pants.
"Give me a sec" he said quickly and left. You looked at him confused and flinched a bit when you heard the bathroom door slam. You just shrugged and continued to unwrap the cucumber. He probably just went to piss or something.
After you had almost half the vegetables cut to a small squares and thrown in a bowl, Logan finally returned. "Finally, I was thinking you ran away" Logan just chuckled awkwardly but said nothing. He watched you cut the pepper and finally decided to help you.
He took another pepper and a knife and started cutting it on the table. You didn't really care if he destroyed the table or not, it wasn't your kitchen after all. After you finished chopping all the vegetables, tossed the salad with the dressing, and Logan gave it a good toss, you were ready to feast.
You split the salad into two bowls, the same amount for each, and dipped a fork into it. Logan waited until you filled the second bowl as well, which was a little unusual as normally he would have already started eating and not even waiting for you.
Aftwr you take your bowl and Logan take his, you decided to go into the room to eat but Logan stopped you. "Hey I was thinking if you wanna watch a movie together?" again, his random nice behavior caught you by surprise. Where did the grumpy guy who literally didn't even want you in this apartment go? Apparently he's gone forever.
“Oh um…sure why not” you smiled and Logan went to sit on the couch where he was already holding the remote and selecting a movie. You obediently sat next to him, but at a sufficient distance so that you had enough space and it wasn't some kind of awkward, uncomfortable situation.
"Do you have any ideas?" he asked you as he kept switching between films. "Umm I don't know, I don't really care" you said as you finally took a bite of the salad, which was really fucking good. "Okay, you asked for it" he said and selected a horror movie called Evil Dead Rise. "Awh man this looks nasty" you said as you still chew the salad and scrunch your face in disgust. Logan just giggled and took his first bite too.
After a while watching the movie, you remembered that you are fucking scared of horrors. That film was chill at first, but after the first jump scare, you knew you are fucked. You tried to focus on the salad and not being some crybaby, but your fear got the better of you. When another jumpscare appeared, you almost throw you salad on the floor.
Logan, on the other hand, didn't move a single muscle the whole time watching. He was like a rock with a stern expression. The second he noticed your reaction, he had to look and intervene somehow. "Are you okay?" He asked and you just nodded, but your body said the opposite. You were shaking, wrapped in a ball and your eyes were bawling, the exact definition of a person being terrified to death.
Logan wasn't stupid and he knew you'd probably be peeing with fear in no time. That's why, regardless of the awkwardness of the situation, he scooted closer to you at first, seeing how you're gonna react. The closeness didn't bother you at all, so Logan put an arm around you, making you feel even safer.
"Is that 'kay?" he whispered in your ear, looking down at you while your eyes were securely locked with the TV. You nodded slightly and laid your head on his muscular chest, covered by gray shirt. It was comforting to hear his regular heartbeat. You felt amazing.
You don't even remember the last time you cuddle with someone like that. You don't care that it's Logan, all you focused on was the feeling. The way his body warmed yours, the way he made gentle circles with his finger on your shoulder and the way he breathed, these combinations made you forget about your fear.
After a while your eyelids started to feel heavy and you felt tiredness coming over you. But you were so comfortable that you didn't want to leave anywhere and that's why you succumbed to sleep really quickly on Logan's body.
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Fourth day
You grunted as rubbed your eyes. You lay in bed with your eyes closed for a while until you realized you had to go to work. Your eyes popped open and you sat on the bed as fast as you could. You looked around rashly, realizing you were in your room under the covers. But when you quickly checked the alarm clock, it was damn late. "Fuck!" you shouted and jumped from the bed like a lightning bolt.
You quickly started changing and getting ready for work, even though you were already 3 hours late. The whole time you were cursing under your breath and your heart was beating in the fastest way possible. If they don't fire you today, they never will.
After you were all ready you ran for your bag and went to the door. You've never gotten ready so quickly before. Suddenly you heard the door open and immidiately knew it was Logan. However, you didn't have time for his comments.
"Hey, what's going on?" he asked, rubbing his eyes. When you quickly glanced at him, he looked pretty tired, like he woke up just now. In addition, he had only boxers again, messy hair and his voice was so fucking rough. When you looked at him you felt a weird feeling in your stomach. "I'm late" you said as you were putting your shoes on. Logan was processing your answer for a bit before he spoke again.
"Oh, work..." he groaned as he realized what you were late for. You just ignore him and give him a quick goodbye before you closed the door and ran to the elevator.
As soon as you opened the door to the restaurant, you ran to the dressing room to change. You tried to be so fast but you were just clumsy and rash. Your chef's suit was crooked and not even all the buttons were on when you appeared in the kitchen, trying immediately blend in. "Oh there you are! Where have you been?" one of your colleagues asked, cutting vegetables next to you. You just shake your head.
"Long night" you sighed tiredly and cooperated with preparing the food. "You're lucky boss wasn't here, you would be cooked" you look at him as he said that and you both giggled at that stupid joke. "Go fuck yourself" you nudged him with your shoulder and shook your head. But he was right, you have much more luck than sense.
You spent last night in Logan's arms and after you woke up and put yourself back together, you realized that he carried you into your room. It's not his fault you overslept, it's yours.
You shouldn't have fallen asleep, you should have just gotten up, said good night and gone to set that stupid alarm clock. But whenever you remember the feeling of him caressing you, how comforting his chest was as a pillow, how his chest smoothly rose up and down, every time your knees got week and you feel that weird feeling in your stomach. You knew what that feeling was and you hated to admit it, but you catched feelings for Logan.
You can't stop thinking about him ever since the first day, you have unchristian dreams about him and you always catch yourself watching him for too long. You never thought you'd like a bad boy, but here we are.
When you were already cleaning the kitchen and getting ready to leave, you noticed a familiar person sitting in the restaurant as one of the last ones.
Your curiosity got the better of you and you peeked more into the restaurant. Of course that the familiar figure was Logan. Again, he didn't have anything ordered, he just sat quietly and stared into nothing. You couldn't help but smile at him when.
You went to change and said goodbye to the others as you headed for the exit. You pretended not to see Logan and ignored him until he instantly came up to you. "Hey, how was work?" he asked as he gentlemanly opened the door for you and waited. You felt your cheeks heat up and you had to look down.
"It was fine, except for the morning..." you chuckle nervously. "Yeah, were you too late?" he asked as he walked closer to the road making you back up a bit. Another discreet gentlemanly move. "3 hours late..." "Damn" his eyes widened as his mouth surprisingly twitches. "Yeah, but luckily I didn't get fired so" Logan laughed and nodded his head in agreement.
"Anyway, any ideas for dinner tonight?" Logan's efforts to keep the conversation going tickled your heart. "Mhmm honestly I don't know…how about pizza?" you looked up at his face waiting for reaction. "Like homemade pizza?" Logan looked into your eyes and you tried to hold eye contact as long as you could. “Of course duh” Logan smiled at your addition and nodded his head. "Sure why not"
You were slicing salami while Logan poured a ketchup mix over the pizza dough. "What about some music?" he asked, still focusing on the smearing. You stopped cutting and looked at him. "Music?" you asked, giving him a confused look. He nodded, looking at you too and when he saw your expression, he stopped his actions and went somewhere.
You were watching him, as he walked to the radio and pressed something on it until a song started playing. Your smile widened and you started laughing, when you saw Logan dancing. He was moving his hips awkwardly and you can see that he really can't dance. His danced moves could be compared to dad style in the 80s.
You needed to cover your mouth and hold your stomach, because the laughter started to hurt, but you couldn't stop. Logan looked at you and held out his hand in front of him as he approached you. You shook your head and almost collapsed on the ground laughing. "Come on!" he shook his hand, convincing you to join him.
After a lot of refusing and giggling, Logan finally convinced you to dance. When you grabbed his hand, he immediately took advantage of it and pulled you a little closer to his body. You squeal a bit at the sudden move, but you immediately cooperated.
You held each other's hands and did little circles with them as your legs scuttle back and forth. You laughed and squirmed, Logan spun you around from time to time and you enjoyed it as much as you could. This is one of those moments that sticks deep in your head. A memory that will always popped up, whenever you hear Logan.
The music pulsed softly through the air, a fast, intoxicating rhythm that seemed to wrap around you and Logan like a delicate thread, pulling you closer. You couldn’t help but glance up at him, your eyes locking for a heartbeat too long, and the intensity there sent a rush of heat to your cheeks.
You tried to focus on the steps, on the sway of the dance, but something about the way Logan’s body moved with yours was deeply distracting. His scent, clean and warm, enveloped you, making your pulse quicken in ways you couldn’t ignore.
Then, without warning, your leg caught the edge of his, and you stumbled, your balance suddenly thrown off. Logan’s arms shot out, catching you before you could fall, pulling you tightly against him to steady you. For a moment, everything seemed to stop, your breath, the world, even the music seemed to fade into the background as you realized just how close you were.
Your faces were mere inches apart, your lips almost brushing his. You could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin, his gaze dropping to your mouth for just a fleeting second before meeting your eyes again. The air between you crackled with tension, your heart pounding wildly in your chest. Everything about this moment screamed for you to close that agonizingly small distance, to let yourself get lost in the magnetic pull between you.
Logan’s grip on you tightened ever so slightly, his chest rising and falling in sync with yours as he fought against the same urge. You could see it in his eyes, the desire, the restraint, the way he was holding himself back even though every inch of him seemed to be aching to close the gap. His gaze flickered down to your lips again, and this time, it lingered longer. You swallowed hard, your lips parting slightly, as if you were subconsciously inviting him to make the move.
For a moment, you both stood at the edge of temptation, teetering on that invisible line. Neither of you spoke, afraid that even a whisper might break the fragile tension and push you over the edge. Your bodies pressed together, heat pooling between you, your breaths shallow and in sync.
But then, something held both of you back. Maybe it was the weight of all that had led to this moment, the fear of crossing a line you couldn’t uncross, or maybe it was the unspoken agreement to savor this tension just a little longer. Neither of you moved, though the pull between you was undeniable. The space between your lips remained tantalizingly close, yet untouched.
“Close call,” he murmured, his voice a mixture of humor and the tension he was trying so hard to rein in.
You smiled, feeling your own pulse slowly return to normal, though the lingering heat of the moment still burned between you. “Too close,” you whispered back, your eyes holding his for a second longer before you reluctantly eased back, just enough to regain some space, some clarity.
“We should finish that” Logan gently let go of you and pointed his head to the half-done pizza in the kitchen. You nodded in agreement, still dazed from the situation that just happened and from the feelings you experienced. You were a little disoriented, just as Logan except, he could hid it better.
After you finished the pizza, the atmosphere wasn't so stiff anymore. Logan was telling funny stories about his past and you just laughed and tried not to get overwhelmed by his gorgeous face. Sometimes when you listened to Logan, the world slowed down and everything was black and white except for him. He shone like the brightest star in the darkness.
After enjoying dinner, cleaning the dishes together and saying good night, you couldn't even fall asleep. You couldn't shake the thought of Logan, that moment when your lips were so dangerously close and even though you didn't have any superpowers, you could feel that he wanted it just as much as you did.
Feeling his beard brushing against your soft skin, feeling his tongue inside your mouth, you could just dream about it. Also, tomorrow is the last day. You don't know if it's good or bad, you don't know if you're happy or just afraid, you don't know anything at all. After all, deep down in your head you had a soft spot and a longing for Logan.
Inwardly, you longed to spend a few more days with him, a few nights alone and see what would happen. This overthinking went too far, you kept your eyes open all night and stared at the ceiling, while outside the birds started whistling and sun rising.
It's here, the last morning in this bed, the last dinner with Logan, the last day.
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Fifth day
You stayed up all night, your stomach churning at the thought that today is final day. At the same time, you couldn't get that moment between you and Logan out of your mind, when just a milimeter was missing and your lips would be stuck together. The desire for Logan, the need to always have him with you and not let him go, was growing by every minute. His smell of cigarettes and scotch always tickled your olfactory cells. Every time you felt him, it was like your heart burst with excitement. But now you couldn't smell it, the only thing that tickled your nose was the steam from the food in restaurant.
"Hey, are you okay?" a colleague nudged your shoulder. "Huh? Yeah I am fine, I am fine..." you weren't fine. The thought of packing up your clothes today and moving back to your apartment, alone. That there will be no one here to hug and protect you while watching a horror movie, that no one will help you prepare dinner, these thoughts were pressing all the points to make you cry.
Despite all these emotions, you tried to keep yourself in check and continue working as if nothing happened, as if the world wasn't practically collapsing before your eyes. You tried to think positively and looked forward to Logan waiting for you again in one of the booths and escorting you to the apartment and making dinner together while talking.
When you finally finished your shift and said goodbye to the others, you walked out of the kitchen looking for Logan with hope in your eyes. Unfortunately, you couldn't find him anywhere. There was no one in the restaurant anymore and your positive thinking was gone. You went alone with gloomy face. This is last night and he just ignore you like that?
When you arrived at the apartment, upset, you were a little surprised to see Logan in the kitchen making dinner. He looked behind his shoulder and his corners lifted up a bit when he saw you. "Hey...sorry I didn't pick you up today, I was preparing dinner" he excused himself and your anger towards him was gone immediately.
Your face softened and your heart melted. He's also sad that it's the last night and he wanted to make it up to you somehow. He doesn't even have to say it with words.
"It's f-fine..." you said, still a bit shocked but more flattered. You walked up next to him, curious about what he is preparing. "Spaghetti?" you asked, even though you saw exactly what he was doing.
"Yeah, we had them on a first night, remember?" he looks at you and you chuckle at the memory. "Oh yeah, you were all grumpy and just took it" Logan scoffed and nodded. "Yeah..."
"Well, it'll be done in a bit, so do your stuff and then we'll go eat, hm?" you just nodded excitedly and fought the urge to kiss him on his cheek as a grateful gesture. You literally ran to your room, closed it and wanted to change into some comfortable clothes. The thing was that all your clothes were dirty and even when you tried really hard to find at least a one clean shirt, it was pointless.
You sat on the bed with a sigh and wondered what you were going to do. "Hey um I just go take a quick shower okay?" Logan burst into your room without knocking and you jumped a bit. He was gone before you could even answer him.
"Okay...." you whispered under your breath and immediately got an idea. You sneaked into Logan's room looking for his shirt. After all, he won't notice that you're wearing it, and if he does, you can explain it to him.
You didn't look long and saw a gray shirt thrown on the bed. You shrugged, grabbed it and walked out of his room into yours. You instantly stuck it to your nose and inhaled its scent. Cigarettes and scotch, oh the combination was sending waves of pleasure between your legs and you couldn't take it anymore. You quickly removed all your clothes and put on his shirt. It was huge on you, it touched your knees and you laugh.
You could still feel him as if he was with you, on top of you and that was exactly what you wanted. You laid down on the bed and closed your eyes, your brain immediately cooperating and starting to create million scenarios while you were still smelling him. The vibrating between your legs started being unbearable and you had to stop it somehow.
I slowly moved my hand to the fabric of Logan's shirt. I stopped between my legs and lifted the shirt up, a sigh left your lips as you felt the cold air touching your folds. Your hand moved down, your fingers slightly touching your folds, making gentle friction. Your moves were slow and sweet, just heating up before you started putting more pressure.
Your jaw fall open as you inserted one finger in, twirling inside and stretching your walls. You imagined that it was Logan's finger that worked a miracle, that filled you with emotions and the need to feel something inside you, to feel him inside you. You desperately tried to reach the sponge spot, that whenever you touch your head you go dizzy in a second.
You needed more, that's why you insert another finger inside you, moving in unison with your hips. You tried to catch up with your orgasm with gentle but eager sensations, Logan's images replayed in your head over and over and your sighs got louder and louder.
“Hey have you seen my gray T-shirt anywhere-“ Logan walked in, not bothering to knock. You gasped at the surprise and immediately covered yourself with a blanket. Logan weist was wrapped by a towel, making you even more wet at the sigh.
"Oh shit" he looked away embarrassed, but you were the one who should be. "What the hell is wrong with you? Why didn't you knock?" you asked, trying to wash off the embarrassment and replace it with anger.
Logan shook his head, still looking away from you. "Look I'm so sorry I was just looking for my T-shirt" "Well I don't have it so go check somewhere else" you said, your voice calm but your heart beat fast. Logan finally gains the confidence to look back at you, furrowing his eyebrows. "Wait, is that my T-shirt you're wearing?"
You tried to be as calm as possible. “What? No, why would I be wearing your shirt?” All your muscles were tense and you prayed that Logan wouldn't notice. “No that's definitely my shirt” he look at the piece that protruded from the blanket as his corner of his mouth lifted up a bit.
You quickly tried to hide more even tho you knew you were fucked. "No...it's not" Logan came closer to you. "Hey, stop tryna hide under the covers..." he grabbed the blanket and tried to pull it off of you, but as hard as you could try, he was much stronger than you.
"Let me just see it" after an unfair fight, Logan won and tore the blanket off you, revealing his shirt on your body. A devilish smile appeared on his face as he saw you. “So you are wearing my shirt” he narrowed his eyes and you started to panic.
“Yeah and what about it? It's the only clean thing I could find and it's comfortable” although you were telling the truth, it wasn't completely true, because deep down you know very well why you took his shirt. Logan chuckled at your answer and came even closer to you, standing right above you.
"So you're telling me it's just a coincidence that your hands are between your thighs wearing the same T-shirt I was just wearing?" oh you were so cooked. "It's not even like that..." you still tried to save it, but it was already too late. Logan giggled again, grabbing your chin, making you look up at him. "I'm not dumb, I know what you're doing"
Oh he was so freaking hot right now, and he knew it. "You're so fucking desperate" now there was nothing and no one to stop Logan in his way. He completely ripped the blanket off of you and got on the bed above you. In this moment you realize, all your desires are finally coming true.
He didn't hesitate for a second before pressing his lips to yours, aggressively and roughly. You immediately cooperated, your arms wrapping around his neck and your legs unintentionally removing Logan's towel as you wrapped your legs around his weist. You could immediately feel his length, making you whine a bit in the kisses.
Logan's hands were not docile and explored your body. He started from your thighs, continued under your t-shirt to your stomach and finally ended on your breasts, which he squeezed and massaged. You pulled out of the kiss, your eyes shut tightly as you sighed his name. Oh he loved the view he had right now. But he still needed more.
He attacked your neck with aggressive bites, leaving marks that will heal for a long time. "~Logan~" you moaned his name as you grabbed his fluffy hair and tugged them whenever he found that sensitive spot. You could feel his smile forming on his face, while sucking and licking your, now red neck.
Logan felt your wetness, your arousal. How he was grateful for those urgent instincts right now. He finally removed his teeth from your neck, but he definitely wasn't done with you. You opened your eyes as you watched him creeping down. His devilish smile not leaving his face for a second. The image of Logan's face between your legs drives you crazy and you couldn't wait to finally feel him. "You smell so fucking good kitty" he said before his lips leaned against your folds.
His hot breath on your bare core was sending shivers down your spine and you fight against every nerve in your body not to burst your hips into his face. He notices your desperate face and your shaking body, so he decides not to torture you anymore. He licked your fold, incredibly slowly but intensively, that you had to arch your back.
He repeated this move a few times, sucking all the wetness you could give him from the outside, before he burst his tongue inside you without any warning. You scream his name and pull his hair as his sudden move catches you off guard, making him chuckle.
His tongue was swirling inside you licking up all your juice, you were delicious. His nose was poking your sensitive clitoris, sending you even faster to your edge. Your hips were moving along his tongue, desperate for more friction and tried to reach your orgasm.
Logan stretched your walls even more, eating you like you were the best meat he had in years, his speed was unbelievable and the pleasure in you indescribable. You feel the tightening sensation in your lower abdomen and you knew you couldn't hold it in for long. You clenched around Logan's tongue, making it harder for him to continue, but he didn't stop. You tightly shut your eyes and throw your head back, as you almost pulled out some of Logan's hair.
He holds you firmly by your thighs, as your hips lose control and after few more twirl moves of his tongue inside you, the feeling of relief wash over your whole body, goosebombs appeared on your skin and your chest was rapidly rising and falling.
You smile, trying to catch your breath but your eyes were still shut. Logan climbed higher, he was now face to face. You felt his heavy breath against your cold nose, so you opened your eyes and smiled even more. Your juice glistened on Logan's beard and his hair messy, proof of your work.
He giggled as he saw your cheeks all red, your forehead sweaty and your hair destroyed, he loved what he was doing to you. "You're fucking beautiful princess" he said before he kissed you, giving you a taste of yourself. You loved the way he kissed. Hungry and furious kisses, but also sweet and gentle and si was his touch.
He explored you with his massive hands, his fingerprints all over your body. You looked really small in his hands, the sigh makes him even harder.
He couldn't get enough of you, he longed to hear you scream his name.
He quickly adjusted his hips and checked down, before he rammed into you, without any warning. Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped, as you felt his massive length inside you. The joke was, he wasn't even fully in yet.
You bite your lips, trying to be as quiet as you could but Logan didn't make it easier for you. He was inserting himself deeper, stretching your walls as far as they could go and he finally let out a big sigh, when he was balls deep in.
You felt so full, that every place inside you was now completely filled and there wasn't even room for air. You hold tightly Logan's neck and started making a blood mess on your lips as you dug into them with your teeth.
He chuckled and gave you a few hungry kisses, before backing up to get a good look at you. "Don't hold it in princess, let me hear you" his grainy voice tickles your eardrums and right before he finished this sentence, he started moving his hips. Just small smooth movements at first, he barely got out of you. Even though they were peaceful movements, it sent you sky high.
Your lips parted as you started leaving a quiet whispers and whimpers, barely heard but Logan heard them very well. Those pretty sounds of yours makes his mind go wild and he started gaining speed and strength in his hips.
Those smooth sweet movements? All gone in a second. They were fading into lustful, rough and uncontrollable thrusting, that makes those regular clapping sounds.
You rolled your eyes as he was hitting just the sponge wet spot inside you, you tried to desperately reach yourself before. "Hey, look at me" Logan growled through clenched teeth, and you with a bit of struggle manage to look at his focused face.
His hands find their way to your hips, keeping you in a place while he was pushing into you, desperately trying to catch up with his orgasm. He sat on his knees, looking at you from above, clearly showing who is dominant here.
You just seductively let him do anything with you he just wanted. You loved it, the feeling, the situation, the atmosphere, Logan. Everything together was sending you closer and closer to your edge. Sice you lost your hold spot when Logan sat down, your hands found the sheet around you and held them tight.
The wet sound started to permeate the whole room, after a while even the entire apartment. Your brain stopped controlling your body, which is why you started letting out loud moans and whimpers of Logan's name. It was pleassure to his ears.
He stopped counting how many times he imagined you like this, beneath him, fucking your soul out of you. How tears stream down your face and you beg for more as you scream his name. These thoughts and these dreams kept him awake and he himself is surprised that it took him so long to do this, to fuck you properly.
He feels that he is close and so were you. Another orgasm of the day was approaching very quickly, making your legs started vibrating. Logan growled, sigh softly, keeping his eyes on your face the entire time. Well, not the entire time, just a few times he checkedthe part where you were connected.
You started feeling that familiar urge to pee, while Logan's dick was twitching inside you, but not stopping hitting that juicy spot. You were over the edge now. You tried your best not to close your eyes and not release already, even though you knew it would come in any second. Logan also fought all the demons so he wouldn't cum into you and empty his balls, but he wouldn't last long either.
“Fuck” he huffed, dropping his head down while his hips lost control. His movements defied all laws of physics, the entire bed creaked with you and your entire body tensed.
"Logan I-" you couldn't even finish your though before you tightened around Logan, arch your back and close your eyes, finally letting the climax get you. Logan didn't stop, he couldn't, when he was so close to his orgasm too, his precum already mixing with your juice.
Logan felt it, he quickly leaned forward so his stomach was touching yours and he pressed his face into the pillow right next to your head as he thrust into you one last time with the most force. You moaned by his hit, still feeling dizzy from the recent orgasm. He growls like a wild animal as he cums into you, his fingers digging into your skin, definitely leaving bruises there.
You both breathe heavily, staying in this position for a bit. Your bodies were hot with sweat as you still processed the moment.
When your breathing finally calmed, Logan unhooked his face from the pillow and looked at you with a smile. "Don't look at me like that I look like a total mess..." you chuckle from embarrassment and close your eyes. "Said something bad about yourself again and you won't be able to walk for a month" your breath got caught up in your throat as you heard those words. He said that so casually.
"You're gorgeous" he added at the end and kissed you softly, calming your pulse and heartbeat down. After that he slowly pulled out of you, both groaning from the friction again and Logan collapsed next to you. You didn't wait and scooched yourself on Logans body, your leg laying on his while your head listening to those cute regular beats of his heart.
Logan immediately pulled you closer to his body and caressed your shoulder, making gentle circles on it. Your eyes were closed, trying to rest while being still full of the hormone of happiness. Your smile couldn't leave your face and neither could Logan's.
"What about the spaghetti?" you whisper softly, making Logan giggle. "They're probably cold now" he sigh, keep caressing your shoulder. You just grunted, too tired to answer that or even think of an answer. "Are you hungry?" Logan asked immediately with concern and you shook your head with a bit of burden. He relaxed after that and closed his eyes too. Both of you were tired and too lazy to get dressed.
"Would you look at that!" Suddenly you heard another male voice, this one was annoying and quite provocative. You both knew who it was right away. You quickly jerked away from each other when you looked at the door. Wade was leaning against the doorframe, his hands crossed on his chest and his smile was so fucking annoying.
You and Logan were frozen in shock, not knowing what to say or how to even react. "You take the 'take care of him' a bit seriously, don't you think?" you tried to defend yourself, explain it somehow, but you can't get out of this situation.
"Get out" Logan growled sternly but it didn't scare Wade at all. "Wow I mean damn I...I don't really know what to say-" "GET THE FUCK OUT!" Logan screamed this time, even you got goosebumps when you heard him. That already took its toll on Wade. "Okay okay chill...I'm just happy for you guys" he slowly closed the door but right before the end, he quickly opened them again.
"How many rounds did you have?" "GET OUT!" you both scream in union and Wade finally closes the door fully, leaving you two in a very uncomfortable situation.
You slowly looked at Logan and he did the same, but your staring contest broke as you both burst out laughing. You didn't know if it was the adrenaline you still had in your blood, or just a copy mechanism when something really embarrassing happened, either that you were crying from laughing, still laying next to each other, still naked and still in love with each other.
No one warned you that these five days would be the best of your life.
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monstersflashlight · 2 months
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Just the tip (Day 3/8 of 10k followers event)
Minotaur x fem!reader || size kink, soft (but filthy) sex, dirty talk, breeding, oral sex
You are quietly walking through the supermarket one day when you have to climb a shelf because you can’t reach the fucking cereals you want. You are pushing your body up when you slip and brace yourself for impact. But the impact never comes. You feel strong big arms around you and when you look up you are staring into the eyes of the biggest minotaur you’ve ever seen.
From that point on, you see him every time you go to the supermarket, it’s like magic. You are going grocery shopping? He’s walking the aisle like he’s there just for you. Days pass and you can’t stop thinking about how wonderful he is, how pretty… and how fucking big. He insists on helping you get everything from the top shelf, you aren’t exactly little, but he’s so tall and broad and fucking magnificent… You agree. And just like that, you have a new grocery shopping friend.
Your friendship develops from there, you gave him your phone, he texts you when he’s going shopping, you met there. Sometimes you go out for coffee after, sometimes he insists on following you home and helping you put the groceries away… You never thought it was wrong because if felt completely fine, it felt natural and amazing to trust him, to feel cared for. And you think you might be in love.
When he finally asks you out, you say “yes” so fast he starts laughing as you blush like a teenager. He embraces you human body against his big minotaur one and lifts you up, burying his big head in your neck as you grab his horns. The sinful groan he lets out makes you whimper in need, and just like that, you two are horny as fuck and it’s like something broke inside you. A new kind of need awakening.
You go on a date that feels like the longest foreplay you’ve ever felt. The date is fucking fantastic, you two fitting better than puzzle pieces, and you can’t stop thinking how much you want to suck his cock. If he’s somewhat proportionate, he must be huge, and that thought plagues your brain every time you look at him. But you don’t say nothing that day.
You continue dating and going groceries together, and after a month of constant turn-on state, you are casually hanging out in your kitchen putting the groceries away as he sits and looks at you while you two talk.
“What?” He asks when he catches you staring at him for the hundredth time, a big smile in his pretty face. He’s so cute you want to hit him, sometimes. You can’t deal with such adorable being.
You look at him, feeling your cheeks getting hot already. “I- Nothing,” you say, embarrassed to admit you were thinking about his dick, once again. You are in a constant state of sexual frustration since you started dating. You thought it would be more sex and less cuteness, and you aren’t mad about it being cute, but dang, you want his cock so deeply inside of you, you could feel him for days after.
He smirks, grabbing a grape out of the bag and chewing it slowly. “Come on, don’t be shy, tell me.” His absurdly hot face and body look so tantalizing and you feel so ready to climb him like a tree every time you get close to him...
“I- I lowkey… Never mind, it’s too embarrassing.” You look down as you take some more groceries and store them in the cupboard. You hear him getting up and getting closer to you, his heat behind you making you melt against his chest. His strong arms coming around you as you sigh, happily. He turns you around and pecks at your lips, his big eyes making pleading as he says nothing. “Okay, okay, stop using those big eyes on me. I… I was thinking about your dick,” you confess, hiding your face in his chest.
He pulls his fingers under your chin and pushes your face up. He’s looking at you with such tenderness and heat in his eyes that you have to grab at his shirt harder not to fall, your knees weak under you. “Say that again?” He asks, his tone pleadingly.
“We… We’ve been seeing each other for a long time and I… I want to move things further,” you let out slowly, looking at him for any reaction. But his face is completely blank and you start doubting everything about your relationship. The voices in your head are loud as you let out a choked: “It’s okay if it’s too fast, I get it. I know. Shutting up now.” It’s been too little, he doesn’t feel the same, he’s just with you because you are exotic… Your inner monologue is filled with self-doubt.
“No. No, it’s not that,” he says, an edge of self-doubt mirroring yours. You blush hard as you look at him up and down, your brain going a mile per minute and falling into the worst possible scenarios.
“What then?” You ask, neediness bleeding into your voice. “You… You don’t find me attractive?” You finally ask, your self-esteem issues making you want to cry as he looks down at you with the most shocked expression ever.
“What?! Are you insane?!” His growl is so deep and feral that your knees turn into jelly under you.
You grab the edge of the counter not to fall. But you can’t respond with anything before he’s manhandling your body over your kitchen table and pushing all the groceries to the ground. You are about to protest when he leans over your body and starts kissing you senseless. His arms part your legs and he steps between them, his monstrous bulge fitting perfectly against your clothed pussy.
“You want this?” He says as he grinds against you. “Are you sure?” He sounds hesitant, but his dick is so hard against you that you want to scream.
“Yes. Yes. Yes,” you chant, trying to grind against him. He growls and rips your clothes off in two fast tugs, leaving you naked over the table, like a sacrifice for the minotaur. And you are more than ready to be devoured.
He pulls his fly open in one tug, probably breaking it in the process, but his movements are frantic. He pushes against you once again, his dick huge against your dripping cunt. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he grunts, his dick leaking precum. Leaking so much of it that you feel it dripping over your wet pussy, making a bigger mess. “I don’t think I would fit, you are so tiny.” He proves his point pressing a finger inside you, making you arch your back and moan loudly. He grunts as he fucks you slowly. His finger feels already so big...
“Just the tip,” you try to argue, wanting nothing more than to be fucked. You know you can take him. At least some of him, but he’s so caring and so worried about you… Always worried. You moan and try to move your hips, but his grip is non-forgiving. You can’t move even a millimeter as he rubs his tip against your wet folds around his finger still buried inside. “Please, please,” you always thought you were above begging, but today you learned a new thing about yourself.
“Just the tip?” He asks, the big head of his cock teasing your entrance. “You are so tight,” he grunts. You feel like he’s going to break you apart as he presses lightly, making you cry out. He pulls back, scared that he hurt you, but you shush him, kissing his snout and grabbing his horns. You know he loves when you play with his horns, he told you how sensitive they were.
“Just the tip,” you repeat. You are already feeling needy and desperate, wanting nothing more but for him to fuck you into oblivion, even if that means you’d be impaled by a giant dick.
“You are soaking,” he groans as he gets in position, making you hot all over. The sounds he makes are so erotic you can’t stop moaning in response.
He starts pushing inside millimeter by millimeter and you feel like your body is being torn. He’s so big, so massive inside of you. You don’t know if you can take him. You don’t know if the tip was already too much for your poor human pussy.
“You feel amazing, such a good little human for me.” He keeps going, shushing your whimpers and telling you how good you feel, how pretty you look stretched around him. “Your pussy is so good, you feel so tight around me. Your pussy feels amazing, best pussy I’ve ever tried, I’m not gonna give you up for anything in the world. You are MINE.” With a roar he pushes a bit deeper, making you cry out.
After that it’s like a switch turns off inside him. Before you realize, he’s slipped a bit more inside. And a bit more. And he’s halfway there when he starts to fuck you in earnest, losing complete control of himself because of how good you feel. You start chanting his name as he keeps hitting deep inside of you. Too much, too deep, but so, so good you can’t stop the tears from falling freely.
He fucks you like a piston, so lost in the pleasure of your body that you can’t even think straight as he goes and goes and goes. You don’t know where his body starts and yours ends. You don’t know what day it is or what’s your own name. You just know his dick pushing far and deep inside of you, harder and harder with each thrust. It’s maddening.
“I’m gonna breed you,” he starts. You groan in response, the idea of being filled to the brim making you hotter than expected. And he keeps going, “I’m gonna come so far inside of you, you are gonna feel me inside for days.” You groan again, rocking your hips against him. “Rub your pretty clit for me, fall apart around my dick, let me feel your pussy milking me.” You scream at his words, overwhelmed.
You obey, rubbing your clit as he fucks you furiously on the table, the wood underneath you creaking under the force of his thrusts. It takes you less than two seconds to come around his shaft, only halfway in, but bigger than anything you’ve ever tried.
“Just like that, yes. Yes. Good little human.” He starts babbling nonsense as he fucks you though your orgasm.
When you are coming down from the extracorporeal experience that is an orgasm with him, you feel the first shoot of his come inside of you. He comes, and comes, and comes a bit more. You feel some come leaking around his dick, you feel so full you don’t know what to do but squirm under him. The movement just makes everything move and you groan, clenching around him as he grunts.
He pulls out after what feels like an eternity hugging each other, your pussy feels raw and abused. You whimper when he touches you, so tender and fucked out, but he doesn’t really care, a dazed look in his eyes as he looks at your leaking pussy. You push your body up on your elbows, looking down at him as he kneels on the floor, between your legs. He launches at your pussy, eating you out until he deems you are clean enough. You come three times before he’s done.
And then he takes you to bed and does it all over again.
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motomamita · 4 months
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fugitive!könig × naive!farmer!reader
warnings: smut, +18, no condom, innocence kink, breeding kink, baby trapping, virginity loss, female reader, dub-con!!
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fugitive!könig who managed to escape the law, after committing several crimes, and now travels throughout the country hiding his identity.
On one of his many trips he ends up arriving at a small town, almost lost in time, where its few inhabitants live off their animal farms and orchards. Apparently no one had televisions, and the few radios only broadcast music that was overshadowed by static. This ensured that no one there would be able to recognize him and gave him the opportunity to stay and rest for a few hours.
Tired of walking and extremely hungry, König sat down in a small cafe to have a drink. The people around him looked at him strangely, not only because they didn't know him but also because of his intimidating appearance. His back was broad, he had long legs, and the muscles in his arms were noticeable even though he was wearing a wind jacket that covered him. However, no one seemed to be bothered by his presence, the people there loved tourists and König seemed completely like one.
When it was time to pay, he noticed that he had ordered and consumed more than he could afford. He was about to offer some of his "camping" knives in exchange for the money he was missing until a figure approached him.
"Don't worry if you don't have the money to pay." you spoke with a sweet voice and doing everything possible so that Konig would not feel embarrassed. "I sell the fruits to the owner of the place so I'm sure I can reach an agreement with him."
König was fascinated by you. Not only because of your timely friendliness but also your very natural and almost unique appearance that was very difficult to find in other places. You were wearing a jean gardener, some comfortable shoes and you were carrying a basket that minutes ago was full of fruits and vegetables from your garden. König looked down, somewhat shy and not knowing how to react to you, the truth is that during his escape he had not met many friendly people.
"Don't worry, I'm not going to ask you for anything in return." You smiled when you saw that no words came out of his mouth. "Here we greatly appreciate tourists and travelers, after all they are the ones who keep this small town from turning into a ghost town."
You invited König to take refuge in your small house for as long as he needed before leaving again for another place. König accepted, surprised at your remarkable naivety in letting a complete stranger into your house and providing him with all the care.
When he arrived, you showed him where the shower was and what his room would be where he could rest. You left a clean change of clothes on his bed and selflessly went off to make dinner. Once he cleaned, König followed the delicious smell and came to the kitchen where you were on your back stirring a large pot of what seemed to be a stew. You were so focused that you didn't notice the presence of the big man behind you. he thought about how easy it would be to cut your neck with one of those long knives you had there. But the idea quickly disappeared when you turned around and a wide smile formed on your face when you saw him.
That stew was the best he had tasted in a long time, so much so that he served himself 3 plates, leaving you totally pleased. The next morning, König didn't really know exactly what to do. He could stay one more night and wake up in the middle of the night to raid your entire home, even leave after having a trip with you. He was hesitant, and that hesitation turned into doubt when you offered to cut his hair and trim his long beard, which he accepted.
That same afternoon König sat down to drink a lemonade made by you while he watched you harvest super large, red strawberries from a distance. He fixed his gaze on the way your pants hugged your butt in a tempting way and how you hummed a melody quietly that he couldn't make out. A tingling appeared in König's tummy and he suddenly noticed an erection growing inside his pants. You looked so pretty, so innocent. It was obvious from afar that you didn't kill a fly and that your care for him was sincere.
The days passed and König seemed to have no intention of leaving, that didn't bother you at all. Now he helped you with the heavy work on the farm, carrying large amounts of hay on his shoulder and feeding the animals. His favorite activity was watching you milk the cows, fantasizing about your hands and the way the milk dripped from them.
His approaches to you intensified, taking advantage of the slightest opportunity to touch you or rub against you. he soon discovered that you had no idea about any sexual activity, acting confused at his double meaning words and insinuations. You were the perfect muse to fulfill all his fantasies without anyone being able to stop him.
Your parents had died a long time ago, leaving you alone in charge of the big farm and all the obligations of the adult world. That led König to think that life on that farm couldn't be bad. He knew how to handle hard work well and you did everything you could to teach him and please him. The idea of ​​starting from scratch, with you there, totally convinced him.
You were a healthy, hard-working woman and you needed someone like konig with you. But König needed to have something that would force you to keep him there with you, forever and that would confirm the mutual love that you both had to give each other. That's when he found the solution: he had to get you pregnant.
That afternoon he made a point that you wouldn't leave the stable until you were full of his cum. He started by complimenting your dress and how pretty that color looked on you. Then the caresses that increased in intensity until he managed to let you be carried away by him and his carnal desire. Now he had you under him, with your skirt up and your underwear hanging from one of your feet. Out of desperation, König only lowered his pants to his heels, even with his work boots on. You were on a large pile of hay, sweating from the great summer heat and moaning loudly.
His thrusts were brutal, making their way inside you that you barely had time to understand everything that was happening. The pleasure was so much that you could barely think about anything other than König's gaze and the way his balls slapped your ass.
"Oh, baby. You're so so tight.. And wet, shit" König groaned, sighing loudly at the pleasure your pussy was giving him. "Tell me, how did a cute little thing like you stay a virgin for so long, huh?" You opened your mouth to answer but only moans came out. "Uh? Talk to me, sweetheart, talk to me.."
"I.. I don't know.." you managed to say, overstimulated by everything. König's rough shirt rubbed against your clit, giving both pleasure and pain. König was so big that he covered you with his entire body, leaving you with almost no place to breathe air other than his breath.
"Uh? Don't you know? These farm boys are idiots... They wouldn't know how to please a pretty thing like you..." König cut off his sentence to get even closer to you and kiss you, putting his tongue inside your mouth. You tried to keep up with him but that triggered the kiss to be even wetter and hotter for him.
"König.. Give me more, please!" He smiled as he heard the urgency in your broken voice. You looked so pretty like that, almost not understanding what was happening but still pleased and eager for him to give you even more.
He, ready to please you, grabbed your legs and raised them to your shoulder, adopting a new position. His thrusts continued, his fat cock forcing its way into your no longer so virgin pussy and the simple sound of your skin slapping together made your warm walls embrace him. Not really knowing what to do, you brought your hands to König's big, muscular shoulders, feeling a few scars on them.
"Oh, my pretty little thing.. I'm going to fill you inside and you're going to be the prettiest mom in this whole damn town.." You dug your nails into his shoulder and your gaze was filled with confusion. "You like it, huh? You're going to make me so happy, isn't that what you want?"
You hesitated for a few seconds, not sure what he meant but his cock rammed even deeper into you leaving you almost without any thought. Tears formed in your eyes from the pleasure and absolute adoration with which he looked at you.
"Come on, mommy.. Make me happy, carry my precious baby.."
In the same way that König had managed to get his way in prison, he had gotten his way with you. Now you both lived together as a couple on the farm, happy and with a baby on the way inside your fertile womb.
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maskedbyghost · 14 days
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jealous!Simon is on my mind 24/7
even better if the two of you are secretly fucking bc he is scared of feelings, commitment, relationships, and blah blah blah…
and simon wasn’t used to feeling jealous. he had trained his emotions out of him long ago, or so he thought. but as he stood in the doorway, watching you stroll across the shared kitchen on the base, your back turned to him, the name "mactavish" boldly displayed on the long-sleeved shirt you wore, something twisted in his chest.
the sight of you wearing his shirt, so casually, stung in a way simon hadn’t expected. he cleared his throat, trying to sound indifferent, but the edge in his voice betrayed him. "that’s johnny’s shirt."
"i know." was the only thing you said, smirking since he couldn't see your face. you knew exactly what you were doing, but in that moment, you didn’t care.
"why is johnny's shirt on you?" simon asked, his voice low but tight with tension. he tried to keep his tone neutral, but the undercurrent of jealousy and frustration was hard to hide. seeing you in johnny’s shirt stirred something uncomfortable deep inside him, a mix of possessiveness and insecurity that he wasn't used to feeling. he hated how something so simple made his chest tighten, how the sight of you in someone else’s name made him feel like he was losing control of the one thing he was afraid to admit he cared about.
"oh, he gave it to me because i was cold," you said, pouting slightly as you turned around to face the only man you ever wanted "he is such a nice guy."
simon managed a slight nod, his mind blanking from the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside him. everything felt too much, too fast. meanwhile, you casually turned your back to him again, giving him another clear view of soap's name stretched across your shoulders as you began making your tea. the tiny grumble that escaped simon’s lips didn’t go unnoticed—it sent a wave of satisfaction through you, a small victory that made your day. you loved torturing him. and, after all, he did deserved it.
frustrated, he walked over to the sink, grabbing a glass of water, hoping it would cool the fire raging inside. but as he turned, his grip slipped, and the water splashed across your front. simon froze, watching the water drip down your shirt, half-shocked and half-relieved for the excuse to make the shirt disappear.
simon froze, his eyes glued to the water dripping down your shirt. after a beat of silence, he muttered, "well, guess you’ll need to take that off now. what a shame."
shocked, you watched as he put the glass down and left the room, still feeling the cold water seeping through the fabric. did he seriously just accidentally splash you and then walk out like nothing happened? that bitch.
*
later, as you slept in your bed, wearing your shirt this time, you stirred slightly at the feeling of someone’s arms wrapping around you. you didn’t even need to open your eyes or turn around—you already knew who it was. that familiar warmth could only belong to simon.
"simon?" you muttered groggily, barely able to make out the shape of him in the dim light. "what are you doing here?"
"shh, just sleep, pretty girl," he whispered softly, his breath warm against your ear. "i just wanted to apologize for how i acted earlier."
"i'm listening," you murmured, your voice barely more than a whisper.
simon’s arms tightened around you as he spoke. “i’m sorry for earlier. i know i’ve been pushin' you away and acting like an idiot. seein' you in johnny’s shirt... it just brought out this jealousy i didn’t want to admit i had. i hate feelin' like i’m not enough, or that someone else might have a piece of you. the truth is, i want you to be only mine. i can’t stand the thought of you being with anyone else. i just wanted you to know that, even if i messed everythin' up.”
“well, isn’t this a surprise? i didn’t realize it took me wearing johnny's shirt for you to admit your feelings.” you said with a hint of a smile, turning around to kiss him softly. simon sighed into the kiss, his arms wrapping around you with a sense of relief and affection.
simon pulled back slightly, his eyes intense as he rested his forehead on yours “i mean it, you know. you’re mine—only mine. no one else gets to touch what’s mine.” his voice was firm, yet tender, which made his words more meaningful.
"did you have a similar conversation with soap?" you asked, raising an eyebrow playfully.
simon grinned, leaning in even closer. “yep, told him to keep his wardrobe to himself unless he wanted a 'property of simon' label slapped on everything he owns.” he sealed his words with a gentle, lingering kiss, his lips tenderly brushing against yours as if to mark his claim in the most intimate way.
*
soap: so, i guess it worked?
y/n: your shirt got wet, but i got what i wanted. thanks, bestie.  
soap: i think i got worse treatment from simon than the shirt did, but anything for my two lovebirds.
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steveslevis · 5 months
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i love you, it’s ruining my life
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azriel x cassian’s sister!reader - part 1 of 3
summary: it wasn’t supposed to be like this. you weren’t supposed to be your brother’s best friend’s mate, especially when that best friend is the same male who’s acted like you don’t exist for the last two centuries.
warnings: angst, very brief mentions of violence and abuse, azriel is oblivious and reader is angry, not much pining in this part mainly just angsty
A single band of golden thread, stretched from your soul, reaching out into an abyss. There was seemingly no end to the thread, no definite stop, just a shadowy mess that sent the thread into a disarray as it reached for your mate. 
Your mate. The male who had spoken maybe a full sentence to you a handful of times in the last few centuries. The male who was best friends with your brother, and acted as if you didn’t even exist.
Even in your younger years in Windhaven, it seemed Azriel didn’t even know you were there. Like you were a ghost, invisible to him in every sense of the word. 
Azriel didn’t ever really speak to anyone, though, so it wasn’t like you were an exception, he treated you like most everyone else. But you never had been able to shake the fact that he would nearly sprint out of a room if you were the only one in it, or that he would refuse to look you in the eyes when you spoke at dinner. It was like he couldn’t even stand the thought of being in the same vicinity of you, like he couldn’t stomach talking to you. 
And you were now bound to him, for the rest of eternity.
The bond had snapped for you immediately upon seeing the state of Azriel when they returned from Hybern without Feyre, when the entirety of their plan had gone up in flames, with Azriel in the main path of destruction. 
Seeing him in so much pain tugged at your heart, nearly ripping it out of your chest when you saw how ruined his wings were. It affected you so much that you ran out of the room when they first arrived, partially because of how much it hurt you to see him like that, and partially because of how distraught the bond snapping into place had immediately made you feel. You couldn’t bear to see your mate in so much pain, and you knew you didn’t trust yourself to be around when they inevitably put him into more pain while healing him. 
You kept to yourself for weeks after their arrival, only speaking to Rhysand and your brother when need be. 
Rhys was the first one to find out about your dilemma.
He called you into his study weeks later to talk about a mission, one he needed you specifically on for your daemati skills. While he explained the details, he could tell your mind was elsewhere, so much so that you couldn’t even stop him from getting past the pure obsidian wall you’d built up in your mind, the wall you never let anyone break down until that moment. 
Rhysand had given you a hesitant look when he stopped explaining the tasks in order to peer into your mind and capture your attention. He didn’t want to pry, only to get your mind focused by scaling his talon down the obsidian wall, which to his surprise collapsed before he could even attempt to breach it. But you nodded when he silently asked to see what had been keeping you so on edge, what had stopped you from helping Madja out with taking care of Azriel when they returned from Hybern, what had stopped you from engaging in conversation at dinner as of late.
A vision of a golden thread shrouded in black and gray shadows was sent to Rhys’ mind, along with a memory of exactly the moment you had been struck with the bond. 
“Have you told him?” he implored, though he seemed to already know the answer. 
You couldn’t even speak at that point, only shaking your head in response as tears brimmed your eyes when you thought of how fucked up it was to be bonded to someone who’d barely acknowledged you in the hundreds of years you’d known him. 
Rhys gave you a sympathetic look then, knowing the feeling of an unrequited bond all too well. 
You promised him about a thousand times that you wouldn’t let him find out, that you wouldn’t let the agony and sadness get in the way of the mission. You could prove yourself worthy and able to go on without thinking about how you might never get an accepted bond, you assured him that you could. He was still unsure when he agreed to let you go on the mission, but it was miniscule enough that any lapses in judgment wouldn’t be detrimental, so he agreed.
And you proved yourself, just like you said you would. You proved yourself over and over again with Rhysand’s missions, building up your mental shields stronger than they ever had been before. So strong, that the High Lord himself had a hard time cracking through them. 
You became a shell of what you were before seeing your mate in that near-death state, but you didn’t care. You needed to distract yourself in any way, shape or form that you could in order to forget about him, to forget that he’d never even taken a second glance in your direction. 
It got to the point where you became so shut off from reality that even Cassian, your brother known for paying no mind to female emotions, started to notice. 
You caught Cassian giving you inquisitive stares a handful of times during training and at dinners when your attitude was exceptionally reserved and demure, but never thought he would actually say anything to you. 
That was until he finally snapped, on the first dinner with Feyre back in Velaris, which just so happened to be the first dinner that Azriel joined in the weeks after Hybern.
You nearly fell out of your seat when you saw him in all his glory. There he was, standing at the end of the table, as beautiful as ever. He was almost fully healed, aside from a few scars littered over the membrane of his wings. 
Excited chatter filled the room as he entered, everyone falling into their rightful place in the Inner Circle, along with the newest members, Nesta and Elain. Though you were one of the longest standing members of Rhysand’s Inner Circle, you felt the most out of place in that moment.
The wine you’d been sipping churned in your stomach as you eyed the shadowsinger, who was sitting quietly across the table from you. You couldn’t handle it, knowing that he was your mate and he had no clue. You couldn’t stomach the thought of him finding out, of him potentially rejecting the bond. 
After a moment of silently wallowing in your self pity, you felt that familiar talon scrape along your mental shield. Rhys was requesting access to your mind, likely to give you some insight about this unrequited feeling based on his own experience. 
You rejected his request instead of letting him in, shooting him a quick glance before standing up abruptly, quietly excusing yourself with the reasoning that you weren’t feeling well. 
You rushed up the stairs, toward your bedroom all the while feeling like you were drowning. You needed air, fresh air, now. It was in that moment that you thanked the Cauldron for Rhysand putting you in the bedroom with a large balcony, one perfect for moments like this. 
Little did you know, your brother had stalked up the stairs behind you, worried after seeing the panic-stricken look on your face before bolting from the room.
You didn’t bother to close your bedroom door behind you, leaving Cassian the perfect opportunity to come in to check on you. You were out on the balcony in an instant, nearly gasping for air as the cool night breeze hit your face. 
“Hey,” Cassian called behind you, standing awkwardly in the middle of your bedroom. “You alright?”
“I don’t want to talk right now, Cass.” you retort quickly, shooting a glare in his direction before leaning over the metal railing as he furrows his brow. “I obviously don’t feel great at the moment.”
“Yeah, no shit. But that doesn’t warrant you snapping at me when all I’m doing is coming to check on you,” he presses, taking a step onto the balcony to stand by you. “It doesn’t warrant you ignoring me for fucking weeks now.” 
“What do you want me to say, Cassian?” you snap, throwing your hands up in defeat. “I—I don’t really know what kind of explanation you need from me, I just haven’t been in a talking mood these last few weeks.”
“Oh, bullshit.” he says, shaking his head at you. “I see you chatting with Rhys and Mor all the fucking time. You’re only shutting me out. What the fuck did I do?”
You take a moment to look up at your brother, finally seeing the hurt sketched across his features as he pleads with you, trying desperately to get through to you. 
“You didn’t do anything.” you sigh, letting your guard down as you realize how much you’d hurt your twin in the last few weeks. “I—I just am going through some shit right now.”
“It’s nothing I can’t handle.” he says, nudging your arm with his elbow as a relieved but hesitant smile passes over his face. “I’m always here to lend an ear.”
“Are you sure?” you say, voice cracking as you internally accept that you’re about to change everything in Cassian’s life with four simple words. 
“Positive.” Cassian says, smile still on his face as he grips your shoulder to reassure you.
“Azriel is my mate.” you say bluntly, watching in silent terror as your brother’s face falls and so does his hand from your shoulder. “And he has no idea.”
——————————————————————
That was almost two years ago. 
Cassian took the news quite well, and became your biggest supporter when it came to dealing with the hardships of an unrequited mating bond. Even as he dealt with his own unrequited bond for a short amount of time, he still made sure to make it known that he still cared for and understood the pain you were going through. 
And now that the war against Hybern had been won, you could focus all your energy into training and missions Rhys would send you on. 
Rhysand knew you preferred to be sent on solo missions, that you worked better alone without anyone disrupting your focus. But, there were some missions that couldn’t be done alone. 
“You–This is a joke, right?” you say with a laugh, narrowing your eyes at the High Lord who sat across the desk in his office, raising his eyebrow at you as you laugh. “I work alone, Rhys.”
“I know you work best alone, but sometimes I can’t send you alone,” Rhys starts, giving you a sharp glare as you start to stand from your chair, “I can’t send you alone, not on this one.” 
“Why?” you pressed, pushing off the arms of your chair to move closer to the desk. “You haven’t even told me what I’m doing or where I’ll be going yet, so why should I even agree to it without knowing?”
The look the High Lord was giving you made you uneasy, turning your stomach in knots, but you persisted. You needed him to stop treating you like you were made of glass, like you would break, like you hadn’t been training with Cassian since you could stand. 
“I’m not a child anymore, Rhys.” you snapped, hands balling into fists as they pressed against the oak of his large desk. “I can handle whatever it is, without Azriel babysitting me.”
“I really don’t know–”
“Are you trying to torture me?” you interject, a pained expression crossing over your face, one of betrayal at the feeling of one of your longest friends trying to put you in such an uncomfortable position when he knows exactly what you’ve been dealing with over the last two years. “Are you trying to make me suffer, do you want me to –”
“I need you to go to Windhaven.” Rhys finally commanded, voice wavering slightly as he brought up the place you once called home, the place he knew would send you regressing into a lesser version of yourself. “I need you to go there, with Azriel.”
The mention of Windhaven sent a shiver down your spine, wings twitching in fear as you thought about the horrors you endured in your final years at the camp. Your sharp gaze flickered for a split second, mind running back to that cabin, to the flash of wings and clawing hands, to the male who did irreparable damage to your soul, to the moment you swore you’d never let a male hurt you again. With a shake of your head, you block the thoughts out, pressing that black obsidian wall back up to prevent yourself from breaking. 
“I’ll be fine on my own.” you say, putting your stern persona back into place, trying to make it seem as though you’re unbothered. 
“I need to send him with you, someone needs to watch your back.” he insists while shaking his head as his gaze softens, trying to get you to break from your hardened facade. 
“What about Cass?” you retort, shaking your head.
“He’ll be in Spring, he’s got business with Tamlin and Eris to attend to for me.” he quickly replies, shaking his own head. “Please, I need you to do this.” 
“I–I can’t.”
“Is the thought of being alone with me for two days that bad?” a voice comes from behind you, nearly making you jump out of your skin.
Your mate, just the person you didn’t want to see right now. 
You whip around quickly at the sound of his voice, brow furrowed as you see him standing in the doorway. It takes everything in you not to sigh at the sight of him, at how damn good he looked, just standing there. You cursed yourself internally, wishing you could think about anything else besides how much you pined for him. Still, you had an image to uphold, an image of distaste for the beautiful shadowsinger standing in front of you.
“Oh, that’s rich coming from you, shadowsinger.” you snap, shooting a glare in his direction that sends a pang of guilt running down the one-sided bond. 
“I’m sorry?” he questions, raising an eyebrow at you, his face the poster child for cool composure as your rage boils in front of him. 
“You can barely stand to be in the same room for me for more than five minutes,” you state, crossing your arms matter-of-factly. “You quite literally leave any space in the house when I’m the only other person around.”
The thought of your mate, the one who was supposed to be at your side for all of eternity, leaving the room any time you entered made your blood boil and chest ache. You ached for him, you ached to feel his touch, to be loved by him. But he didn’t care about you, didn’t care if you lived or died. 
Seeing the anger in your eyes made Azriel stop in his tracks, something unfamiliar tugging at his heart as you seethed. There was a gnawing feeling in his chest as he thought about the last five hundred years, how he never paid you any mind. 
The truth was, he avoided you with every bit of willpower he had in order to restrain himself. He couldn’t be around you for more than a few moments without your overpowering scent filling his nose feeding his desire to tear you apart. Every time he was with you alone, he wanted to tear down any walls that he had and just have at you, to have you as his. He wanted you carnally, he wanted all of you, all of the time.
But that wasn’t the kind of male he was. He would never do such a thing to Cassian, his best friend. He couldn’t let himself have you just to fulfill his deepest desires, you deserved so much more than to be some one night fling. You deserved to be loved and cared for, to be protected at all costs. 
So he had ignored you, for almost five fucking centuries, because he thought he couldn’t give you what you deserved. He pushed out any thought he had about you, pushed away the urge to pursue you in any way, and pushed you away in the process. He knew you well from watching from afar, but to you it seemed as though you were the last thought in his mind, when in reality, you were the only thought in his mind at all times. 
“That’s not–” Azriel started, but the words fell on his lips as he watched your own pull into a frown, an expression that was much more broken than the anger that had crossed over your face when he snuck in. 
“Yeah, that’s what I fucking thought, you prick.” you said weakly, finally letting your emotions get the better of you. As tears pricked your eyes, you turned to Rhys once more. “I will not be going anywhere with him. I will be going by myself, or not at all. I am strong enough to do this on my own and I’m tired of being treated like a child in this court.” 
Rhys only stared at you as you stalked towards the desk once again, watching as your hands shook with pain. He showed no change in emotion as you spoke, fully in High Lord mode instead of the Rhysand you knew and loved. 
“I will be in my room, packing. When you’re done being a stubborn male and realize that I can do whatever the hell it is you need me to do, I’ll be waiting for further instructions.” you state, trying to choke back the tears that are threatening to flow onto the wood in front of your hands. 
The High Lord nods firmly in response, and you turn on your heels. Azriel is still standing in the doorway, but you don’t dare to look at him. You push past the shadowsinger, swiping your cheeks hastily as tears fall down them. As you pass, your wing brushes his in the lightest of touches. You swallow a gasp as they touch, a shockwave flowing through your wing and going straight to your heart. 
Azriel turns to gaze at you with wide eyes and you immediately know he felt it too. He felt the shock, the electricity between your wings, but not in the way you did. Not down the one-sided, golden bond that stretched toward him. 
Confusion spread over his face as he looked at you, but you turned away and rushed towards your room before he could fully process what happened. 
The rest of your afternoon was spent alone in your room, laying on your bed for most of the night as you stared up at the ceiling. You cursed yourself internally over and over again, wishing there were some way to change everything, some way to make you forget that you even had a mate. 
Over and over again, you told yourself how you weren’t worthy of the immeasurable love that came with a mate, how you would never be good enough for Azriel. 
It had always been like that for you, though. The feeling of inadequacy was a daily occurrence for you, it wasn’t a secret. Cassian knew it, and so did Rhysand, so you’re sure Azriel did too. You worked day in and day out trying to prove that you were worthy to your brother and the High Lord and everyone around you, regardless of the pain you put yourself in.
Rhysand knew you too well, and knew that you were all too serious about going on the mission by yourself, or at least without Azriel. After you left his office, he’d tried to speak to Cassian about accompanying you, but it was of no use, he was preoccupied. He didn’t want you to go by yourself, he knew you’d be scared just by being in Windhaven again, but he also knew that you being the one to go on this mission was the only hope. 
Your untraceable daemati skills were an impeccable weapon that couldn’t be replaced by Azriel’s shadows or Cassian’s brute force. Even the High Lord himself didn’t have daemati powers as stealthful as yours, so you were the best option when it came to figuring out who was trying to rebel. 
After much contemplation, Rhys eventually sent a concise and firm message to your mind.
I need you in Windhaven by dinner tonight, Devlon will be expecting you to be there. There are a few Illyrians that I need you to check in on while you’re there, Cass told me there are talks of rebellion led by Cormac and Bavlard. he explained, you should only need to be there for tonight to gather enough information, but plan to stay until tomorrow evening in case we need more intel. You’ll stay in the cabin as usual, I’ll be in contact regularly to check on you, since you’ll be on your own this time.
The last sentence had a smile flickering on your lips, happy that Rhysand was finally taking you seriously as a member of his Inner Circle and trusting you enough to send you on missions by yourself. Luckily, you were already packed so it didn’t take much for you to get ready to go. 
In less than an hour, you were dressed in your fighting leathers and on the balcony of your room. You waste no time in flying from the house, large wings spreading for the first time in what feels like forever as you make for the sky.
The breeze against your skin makes you sigh with joy, trying to enjoy the twinge of happiness that flying gives you as you make your way towards the place you once called home, the place you now call hell.
taglist: @paleidiot @tothestarsandwhateverend @impossibelle
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wildwestdean · 8 months
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transposition
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summary: a spell goes wrong and ends up with you and sam switching bodies. neither of you tell dean, which ends up being the greatest decision you ever made
pairing: dean winchester x witch!reader; best friend!sam winchester x witch!reader (platonic, obvs)
word count: 6.3k+
warnings: swearing, mentions of magic use, misunderstandings, miscommunication, angst, secrets, accidental love confessions, awkward idiots, mutual pining, friends to lovers, fluff, cliches, minor use of [y/n], (female pronouns/descriptors used)
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“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Sam grunted under his breath, continuing to powder the contents of your mortar with more force than necessary. “If Dean finds out about this-”
“Dean asked me to do this,” you defended, eyes skimming over the page in front of you before looking up at him. “Okay, maybe not verbatim, but he asked!” you added upon seeing the look on Sam’s face. 
“Oh, yeah. Yeah, I’m sure he did,” he replied sarcastically, slamming the pestle down with enough force to make you flinch. 
“Would you be fucking careful!” you hissed, glaring at him. “That thing isn’t indestructible and it’s important to me, it was a gift-” 
“From Dean,” he finished for you. “I know. Sorry,” he added, and even though his tone was sincere, you just knew he rolled his eyes anyway; and you chucked the closest thing you could grab at his back in retaliation. 
“Dick,” you muttered, going back to reading the passage before you. 
It wasn’t often that you used your powers - more so when it came down to a last resort option - and when Dean first discovered that you had magic, it wasn’t intentional. The two of you were on a hunt together, and it was - of course - not going to plan. You were on the brink of consciousness, having no choice but to watch defenselessly as Dean became outnumbered by Vamps. The spell came out of nowhere, nothing more than a primal instinct to protect him, and before anyone knew what was happening, the two of you were left alone with nothing but piles of ash where the monsters once stood. Dean first thought that Rowena had somehow stumbled upon them to save the day once more, though once he realized the spell came from you, he damn near lost his mind. You would have rather he yelled at you, smashed things around, anything compared to what he did. Once he made sure you were okay and had you checked out, he simply acted as if you didn’t exist; you were completely frozen out of his life. He never needed to say anything, you could see it in his eyes every time he glanced at you: How could you be a witch? He hated witches, and you knew that- it’s half the reason you never told him in the first place. He only started coming around with Sam’s convincing- and even then, it took an incredibly long time for him to trust you again. Then, one day, he came to realize that no matter what happened, he could never hate you. So, he came to you with an open mind and a peace offering- the exact mortar and pestle you had once told Sam that you wanted, because it reminded you of your mother’s- and the two of you worked on putting the pieces of your friendship back together. 
“Ass,” Sam retorted, turning and walking over to you with the freshly crushed ingredients. 
“You know,” you started, taking it from his hands. “You can’t really be against this all that much, otherwise you wouldn’t be here helping.”
“I’m only here so you don’t get yourself killed.”
“Oh, come on,” you urged with a chuckle. “You love doing this, and you know it.”
He gave you a sarcastic smile before taking the book from you. “Let’s just get this over with.”
“Fine,” you huffed, snatching the book right back. 
With one final glare at each other, you started the spell. Everything was going well… until it wasn’t. 
You aren’t exactly sure where it went wrong. You don’t know if it was the ingredients, the way you said the spell, or just a mixture of everything, but before you even knew what was happening the bowl before you exploded in a cloud of yellow and sent both you and Sam flying. 
“Oh, god,” you groaned, holding a hand to your head as your ears rang. “What the fuck?” you wondered aloud, feeling strange beyond comprehension. 
“What the hell happened?” Sam croaked out.
“I don’t know,” you admitted quietly. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” he said through a fit of coughs. “You?”
“I don’t know. Something feels wrong,” you declared, sitting up. It was at that exact moment you realized why you felt so different. “Sam?” you asked meekly.
“Yeah?” he questioned, sitting up. “Wait-” 
“I’m-” you began, unable to finish as you stared at your hands; were they even your hands? 
“You’re….” Sam tried, staring at you then down at his body; your body? 
“You’re me!” you exclaimed, gesturing between the two of you. 
“You’re me!” he echoed, scrambling to stand.
You followed suit, using the wall behind you to help you stand. “God, how do you live like this?”
“Me? What about you? I won’t even be able to reach the upper cabinets in the kitchen!” he countered, flailing his arms around. 
“At least you’ll be able to fit on your bed! My feet are gonna dangle!” you huffed, folding your arms over yourself. 
“You need to fix this,” Sam declared, stepping towards you. You couldn’t help but take a few steps away- this was way too weird. You’ve seen shifters take your image before, but this was actually you. Only it wasn’t you. You felt like your head was about to explode. 
“Gee, you think, Sam?” you snapped, narrowing your eyes at him. “I thought we’d just stay like this forever!” 
He opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by the door swinging open. You both flinched, turning to see Dean peering into the room. 
“What the fuck’s with all the yelling?” he asked, glancing around. “The hell is going on?” 
“I- uh-” you tried to answer, but nothing came to mind. 
“Just, uh…. experimenting,” Sam supplied, and you sent him a glare. 
“Experimenting?” Dean repeated, raising his eyebrows at you- or rather, at whom he thought was you. 
“Yeah,” Sam said with a shrug, not sure what else to say. The two of you shared a look, silently agreeing not to breathe a word of what was really going on. 
Dean’s face softened, and he sighed. “Don’t tell me you’re actually doing that spell. Sweetheart, we can get by without it.” 
“We don’t-” you started to argue, before Sam interrupted you with a clearing of his throat. 
Right. Dean wasn’t exactly talking to you right now. 
“Thought it was a good opportunity to practice,” Sam replied, sounding more like he was asking than telling. 
“Right,” Dean said, eyeing your body wearily. 
Oh, god. He was gonna pick up on something being wrong, it was only a matter of time. 
“You can leave any time now,” you spoke up, more irritated than you meant to sound, but you were severely on edge.
Dean turned to you with a look of surprise. “‘Scuse me?”
“I just- you know, we’re in the middle of something,” you continued, doing your best to stand your ground. 
“Yeah, I can see that,” he quipped, taking a step towards you. “What the hell were you thinking? Why are you letting her mess around with this stuff? Better yet, why are you helping her mess around with this stuff?” 
“It’s just a simple spell,” you argued, your head swirling with the fact that you were looking down on him, instead of being dwarfed by his frame like you normally would be. 
“A simple spell?” he repeated, fury and irritation dancing in his eyes. “Do you even hear yourself right now?”  
“Last I checked we could make our own decisions, Dean!” you exclaimed, glaring at him. 
“Sure,” he placated with a nod. “So long as they’re not stupid ass decisions!” 
“Can we go ten minutes in this place without a fight happening?” Sam pitched in, already exasperated with the situation. 
“Yeah, sure,” Dean grumbled, glaring at you. “Food’s ready.”
“We’ll be there in a few minutes,” Sam announced, earning a glare from you in return. 
“Don’t you think we should finish-” you tried to ask, but were quickly cut off by Dean. 
“No, you guys are done in here,” he declared, shaking his head. “Let’s go.”
“Dean-” you tried once more, only to be cut off again. 
“Sam,” Dean warned. “I’m not kidding. Whatever you two were doing, it’s done.”
“Fine. We’ll be out in a few minutes,” you relented, resisting the urge to roll your eyes. “We need to clean up!” you added upon seeing the look on Dean’s face. 
“Five minutes,” Dean agreed pointedly. “Or I swear, I’ll drag both your asses out of this room.” 
“Yeah, five minutes, got it,” you huffed, watching him as he hesitantly left the room. 
You waited a few moments before hastily making your way over and all but slamming the door, turning to look at Sam with wide eyes. 
“We are so screwed,” he declared, matching your expression. 
“What are we supposed to do? He’s gonna figure out something’s wrong!” you exclaimed, slumping against the door behind you. 
“We just…. I don’t know, pretend?” Sam suggested with a shrug. 
“Pretend?” you repeated incredulously. “Sam, this is insane! We can’t just pretend to be each other!” 
“It’s not like I meant permanently!” he defended, holding out his hands in surrender. “But until we can find a way to fix this, we have to at least play the part in front of Dean.” 
“Fine,” you agreed with a huff. “But I am not going on your crack of dawn jogs.” 
“Oh, come on-” he started to argue, though quickly stopped when met with your glare. “Yeah, okay, that- that’s fine.” 
“Great. Now let’s go before Dean gets even more pissy,” you declared, opening the door with a flourish. 
With a quick nod, he followed you down the hall, the two of you lowly bickering about the situation all the way to the kitchen. 
“I feel like a baby giraffe with this fucking body.”
“You look like a baby giraffe, do you not know how to walk?” 
“Yeah, I know how to walk! I know how to walk with normal legs!”
“Normal? You’re short enough to get in anywhere with a child’s pass!” 
“Keep up with the attitude, Sam. Maybe I’ll go have a really nice salon visit and cut all this hair!” 
“Fine, then maybe I’ll call up that guy from your ‘worst date ever’ and ask to catch up!”
“Fine by me. You’ll be the one he’ll be groping and hitting on the whole time.” 
“Yeah- well-... look, just don’t cut my hair!” 
“What are you two all hush hush about?” Dean asked curiously, eyeing you both as you entered the kitchen. 
“Nothing,” you both quickly replied, taking a seat at the table. 
Dean stared at you both for a moment before nodding curtly. “If you say so.” 
Choosing not to reply, you both quietly watched as he joined the table, taking his regular seat next to you. Which, of course, meant he was currently next to Sam, and you watched in amusement as he shifted nervously while Dean got too close for his comfort. 
Attempting to stifle a laugh, you took a bite of the burger that was placed in front of you, only to grimace in response. “What is this?” you asked through a mouthful, meeting Dean’s confused gaze. 
“It’s… the same veggie burger you force me to make you every time I make burgers?” he replied, looking at you as though you lost your head. 
Fucking Sam, you thought bitterly. “Oh, right. Right, it just- it tastes different, I don’t know,” you stammered, sparing a quick glance across at Sam as you hurriedly took another bite. 
“You two are weirder than usual tonight,” Dean muttered to himself before eating his own food. 
The three of you ate in stifling silence, you and Sam both internally trying to find a way out of this mess, before Dean spoke up again and pulled you from your revere. 
“[Y/N], do you want just the usual from the store? I was gonna make a run before our movie night,” he said, turning to look beside him with a soft grin. 
You felt your stomach drop as Sam cleared his throat, looking between you and Dean for a moment. “Movie night?” 
“Yeah,” Dean said, his eyebrows furrowing in even more confusion. “Like we have every Friday?” 
“Oh, right!” Sam exclaimed, chuckling nervously. “I didn’t realize what day it is, I, uh- I’m actually not… feeling too hot, do you mind if we skip it tonight?” 
“You wanna skip it?” Dean asked quietly, making your heart shatter as you watched the hurt and disappointment flash across his face.
After the two of you made up from your falling out, you started a tradition of spending extra quality time together at least once a week. This resulted in having a movie night every Friday, no matter what. Whether that meant catching a random movie on a motel tv or settling into the Dean Cave, you both always found a way to make it. Knowing you had no choice but to skip out this time almost made you want to tell him what happened right then and there; but you didn’t. 
“Yeah, I just… I think it’s best if I just head to bed, you know? I’d hate for it to get worse,” Sam said sheepishly, playing with the glass in front of him as he met Dean’s gaze halfheartedly. 
You were glad that if you had to mistakenly swap bodies with someone, it was Sam. Given that he became your best friend from just about the moment you met, he had your behaviour down pat; you just hoped you could do the same and make this all a little easier. 
“Well what do you mean, what’s wrong?” Dean asked worriedly.
“I’m just feeling run down is all,” Sam said, shrugging lightly as he stood up, taking his dishes to the sink. “Maybe we can watch something tomorrow,” he added, turning back to Dean with a shy smile. 
“Yeah. Yeah, sure,” Dean agreed softly, averting his gaze to the beer in his hands. “Don’t worry about it, just get some rest.” 
“Sure. Uh, goodnight, guys,” Sam replied awkwardly, shooting you a pointed look before leaving. 
You stayed in uncomfortable silence for a moment, studying Dean as he pouted at his bottle. 
“You alright?” you asked tentatively. 
“Yeah, just… first time she’s bailed on me,” he replied indifferently, downing the rest of his beer before heading to get another one. 
“She didn’t bail on you,” you argued firmly. “It’s not like she chose to go bar hopping or something, she’s sick.” 
“Didn’t seem so sick when she was huddled up with you,” Dean said curtly, leaning against the counter as he sent you a cold stare. 
“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked confusedly, shifting in your seat to look at him better. 
He remained silent, lips pursed as he studied you for what felt like hours, before he finally shrugged. “Doesn’t mean anything.” 
“Then why say it?” you asked in irritation. 
He remained silent once more, simply raising the beer bottle to his lips and taking a long sip before standing upright. “Night, Sammy.” 
“Dean-” you tried to press, but he only ignored you as he continued across the floor, leaving the kitchen without saying another word. 
You sighed in exasperation, quickly cleaning everything up before heading to your room, catching almost no sleep as you dove deep into researching for a reversal to your mistake.
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“You need to shave,” Sam said, staring at you from across the table. 
“What?” you asked, caught off guard by the declaration. 
“Your beard - my beard. You need to shave it,” he clarified. “It’s been over a week.”
“And?” you asked, arching an eyebrow at him. “I doubt you’re taking care of all my housekeeping.” 
“That’s because I’m doing everything possible to not look at you! Like you asked!” he hissed in return. 
You rolled your eyes in response, returning your attention to the book in front of you. “I have more important things on my mind than shaving your stupid facial hair - which looks fine, by the way.” 
Sam huffed, shifting in his seat. “Yeah, well you can at least take five minutes for me!”
“I don’t even know how to shave a beard, Sam!” you argued, closing the book in exasperation. 
“Then just let me shave it for you!” he begged, leaning over the table. “I’m serious, [Y/N], you can’t just leave me all unkempt.” 
You met his gaze and sighed softly. “Damn, you can even pull off the puppy dog eyes with my face. That’s a talent, Sammy.” 
He couldn’t help but laugh, for what felt like the first time since this whole thing happened. “You can do it better than I can,” he chuckled. “At least when it comes to Dean,” he added with a smirk. 
“What does that mean?” you asked curiously. 
“Nothing,” he said, shrugging dismissively. “C’mon, let’s get you- me- whatever, all taken care of before Dean gets back with dinner.” 
“Fine,” you begrudgingly agreed, getting up to follow him.
Before you knew it, you were standing in front of him as he sat on the bathroom counter, because: “How else are we supposed to do this? These arms aren’t gonna reach that face comfortably without some help.”
You fell into a comfortable silence as he did what he needed to do, the only words spoken being his occasional nagging for you to quit moving, as you were both lost in your own thoughts about the last few days.
“I’m really sorry, Sammy,” you said suddenly. You weren’t sure whether your voice was so quiet due to the shame you felt, or for the fear of breaking the silence that surrounded you. 
“It’s not your fault,” he said simply, reflexively. 
You sighed, gently shaking your head; which earned another scolding glare from him as he steadied you. “It’s entirely my fault. I fucked up big time, and we both know it.” 
“Look, it was an accident,” he urged, wiping away the remnants of the shave one last time. “Assigning blame isn’t going to change anything.” 
“Why aren’t you mad at me? You should be furious! I practically ruined your life,” you pressed on frantically. 
“Okay, that’s being dramatic,” he chided. “Yeah, this isn't an ideal situation. Though weirdly, it’s also not the weirdest situation I’ve been in. And you know what? It’s not even the first time I’ve been in this situation! Remember when that kid switched bodies with me? Trust me, you’re a much better person to be switched with.” 
“Yeah, I remember,” you said, chuckling softly. “Still, I’m really sorry.” 
“I know you are,” he said softly. “I also know you’ll find a way to fix this.” 
“You really believe that?” you asked hesitantly. 
“Yeah,” he said with a nod. “‘Cause it’s you, and I’ll always have faith in you. You didn’t mean for this to happen, [Y/N]. It’s okay.” 
“No, it-” you started to argue, but he cut you off. 
“Stop,” he urged softly. “I’m not mad at you, okay? Maybe I was at first, but I’m not anymore.” 
“Promise?” you asked meekly. 
“I promise,” he said firmly.
“Okay,” you relented, not fully believing him but not wanting to push the topic any further. 
“Okay,” he repeated, gently wiping away one of your stray tears. 
“Maybe we should just tell Dean,” you suggested hesitantly. 
“Tell me what?” Dean’s voice suddenly cut through the room.
The two of you jumped, and you moved away from the counter as calmly as you could, knowing how the predicament you were in must look to him.
You turned to the doorway and came face to face with Dean staring intently at the two of you, his mind working into an overdrive as he tried to make sense of the scene he just walked in on. 
“Dean, I- when did you get back?” you asked nervously. 
“Tell me what?” he asked again, ignoring your question. 
You and Sam were both at a loss. You spent so much time trying to figure this whole thing out, yet neither of you thought to come up with some kind of story should you be cornered like this. 
“[Y/N]?” Dean asked softly, looking over to where he thought you sat on the counter. 
The look of hurt and confusion that flashed over his face and the waver in his voice all but sent a fresh wave of tears washing over you. 
Dean waited impatiently a few moments before shaking his head with a scoff. “Whatever, food’s in the kitchen.”
Before anyone could say anything else, he turned on his heel and left, leaving you and Sam stunned in his wake. 
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The dynamic between the three of you began shifting even more ever since that night, and you could feel Dean slipping further and further away from you with each passing day. 
You noticed it every time Dean would catch you and Sam huddled up and whispering low; when he would stand and stare before leaving with a quiet grumble of forgetting why he was there. 
You noticed it when he started spending more time in his room or tinkering with Baby in the garage; finding any and every excuse possible to spend time outside of the bunker and away from you and Sam. 
You and Sam tried to ignore it, promised yourselves that you’d explain everything once you managed to set things right - or, if you discovered you were over your heads and couldn’t fix everything. 
The thing you hated most about this whole thing was that it was becoming easier and easier to lie to Dean; and the worst part about that was not knowing whether you and Sam really became more convincing, or if Dean just didn’t care enough to question you anymore. 
Which is exactly why you found yourself sitting in the war room, waiting for Dean to make his way through to the kitchen, in order to try and talk things out. 
You weren’t expecting him to appear with one duffle bag over his shoulder and another by his side - and he wasn’t expecting to see you, either. 
“Didn’t think you’d be up,” he declared after a moment of hesitation, continuing on his path to the stairs. 
“Where the hell are you going?” you asked hotly, standing from your seat. 
Dean sighed, throwing his head back in frustration as he considered his response. “Donna’s cabin.” 
“What? Why?” you asked, eyebrows drawing together with confusion. 
“I can’t do it anymore,” he said tiredly. “I just can’t, okay?” 
“Do what?” you asked wearily, taking a tentative step towards him. “What are you talking about, Dean?” you pressed, feeling your chest tighten with the rising nerves and fear.
“Don’t do that,” he demanded, shaking his head. “Don’t play coy. You think I don’t know what’s been going on around here?” 
“What-... what’s been going on?” you asked curiously. “The hell are you talking about?”
You weren’t sure if or when he figured out what happened, and you also weren’t sure why it would make him feel the need to leave. 
“I’m talking about you and [Y/N]!” he shouted, throwing his bags down and stepping towards you. 
“Me and [Y/N]?” you wondered, taking a nervous step backwards. 
“I’m not an idiot, okay?” he spat, his jaw ticking. “You think I haven’t noticed? Think I couldn’t figure it out?” 
“Okay, look,” you began, holding out your hands defensively. “I can explain.” 
Dean let out a humourless laugh, running a hand over his mouth before glaring at you once more. “Explain,” he echoed with a chuckle of disbelief. “Don’t waste your breath.”
“Why are you so pissed off about this?” you asked in bewilderment. “I mean, I know we kept it from you, but we figure it’d be easier for you.” 
“Easier for me?” he repeated, voice raising. “What about this entire situation makes you think it’d be easy for me?”
“Well because it-... I mean it doesn’t really affect you, Dean,” you replied, unsure of your own words. 
“It doesn’t affect me?” he repeated with perplexion. “Of course it affects me! You know how I feel about her!” he exclaimed, taking yet another step forward. 
“What?” you questioned, thrown off by his response. 
“Don’t “what” me,” he snapped. “I want to be happy for you, Sammy. I really do, but I just-... I don’t think I ever can be.” 
“Okay, I-... I am so lost,” you admitted.
“You stole my girl, Sam!” Dean all but screamed. “You know that I love her. You know I was gonna tell her, and you know how much I want to spend whatever’s left of my god forsaken life with her! You swore you didn’t feel that way about her. You- I mean how to hell could you do this to me, Sammy? I can’t even stand to look at you anymore.” 
You remained silent, staring at him in shock and confusion for what felt like hours. Your mouth opened and closed a few times as you tried to formulate a response, but all that came out was a broken whisper of his name. 
“Don’t sweat it, Sammy. Not like I can blame you for falling for her, right? I mean hey, I sure did,” he sassed, smiling sarcastically. “Not surprised she chose you, either. She deserves someone better than me. But I’m not sticking around anymore to see it first hand.” 
You watched in stunned silence as he turned to gather his bags, trying and failing to think of anything to say. What the hell were you supposed to do? The man of your dreams just admitted he felt the exact same way, and you were trapped in his brother's body. Even if you told him the truth right now, would he even believe you? 
“Do me one favour, though,” Dean said from the foot of the stairs, effectively pulling you from your thoughts. “Don’t tell [Y/N]. Don’t tell her anything. I’ll think of something to tell her during the drive and call her tomorrow.” 
“Dean-” you finally began to protest, only to go unheard by him as he started up the steps. 
“Later, Sammy,” he announced with finality, disappearing out of the bunker. 
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“You have got to be kidding me. I mean honestly woman, how stupid can you be?” Rowena’s voice rang through the war room as she made her arrival known to you and Sam.
“Did you not get in enough insults over the phone?” you asked in exasperation, not bothering to move from your spot in the library as you watched her approach.  
“I don’t think there are enough insults for this situation, dear,” she said sweetly, smiling innocently. 
“Either be helpful or leave, Rowena,” you replied solemnly. 
It had been three days since Dean left, and over two weeks since the whole debacle happened. You had never been more determined to find a solution, nor had you ever felt more defeated. 
“Alright, fine. No need to be cranky,” Rowena tsked, taking a seat across from you. “Go on, then. Walk me through everything.” 
“Fine,” you sighed, steadying yourself before recounting the situation. 
“Let me get this straight,” Rowena declared, holding a hand up. “You actually let him leave? After what he said?” 
“Is that seriously your only take away from this?” you asked angrily, glaring at her. 
“It’s not my only take away, but it’s certainly a big one,” she said calmly, accompanied by a half shrug. “This is the spell you used?” she asked, looking over the book you gave her during your explanation. 
“Yeah, that’s the one,” you confirmed sheepishly. 
“Well, don’t you worry. We’ll have you and Samuel right as rain in no time, dear,” she comforted, eyes never leaving the pages in front of her.
It took another four days, but ‘No time’ finally came. You were practically itching to get this all over and done with as the three of you finished setting everything up. You didn’t even care about being in your own skin again, all you cared about at this point was getting Dean back in your life. He did everything possible to avoid talking to you or Sam each time either of you tried contacting him, and you were missing him more and more with each passing hour.
“That should do it,” Rowena declared, snapping you back to attention. “You know what you need to do?” 
“Yes,” you said quickly, urging her out of the room; the last thing you needed was for her to be around and have the spell go wrong again, resulting in all three of you being scrambled around. 
“Don’t rush it!” she cautioned. “I know you want him back, but you need to take this slowly. You can’t afford another screw up!” 
Her statement made you pause, and you knew she was right. “Go slow, I got it,” you confirmed, shutting her out of the room. 
“Ready?” Sam asked, looking at you eagerly; albeit nervous beyond belief. 
“More than ever,” you declared, taking your place at the altar. 
You began the spell, doing everything slowly and precisely so there was no room for error. Once you had finished, however, nothing had happened. You were just about ready to scream with all the emotions boiling inside of you when suddenly the bowl before you exploded in a cloud of yellow, sending both you and Sam flying. 
“Oh, god,” you groaned, holding a hand to your head as your ears rang. “This again?” you wondered aloud.
“Did it even work?” Sam croaked out.
“I don’t know,” you admitted quietly. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” he said through a fit of coughs. “You?”
“I think so,” you declared, sitting up. It was at that exact moment you realized what happened. “Sam?” you asked breathlessly. 
“Yeah?” he questioned, sitting up himself. “Wait-” 
“I’m-” you began, unable to finish as you stared at your hands; your own hands.
“You’re….” Sam tried, staring at you then down at his body; his very own body.
“You’re you!” you exclaimed in glee, pointing at him.
“You’re you!” he echoed, scrambling to stand.
You followed suit, taking a moment to steady yourself on your own feet. “I need to go,” you announced, not giving him time to reply before you ran out of the room. 
“You’re welcome!” Rowena called after you, watching you run by. 
“Thank you!” you called back absently, hurrying out to your car. 
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The drive took longer than ever before; at least, it felt like it did. You spent the whole time trying to think of what to say, of how to explain, but nothing seemed right. Nothing seemed like enough. All you could hope for was that everything would magically come to you once you stood before him. 
If he ever decided to open the goddamn door. 
“Dammit, Dean! Open the fucking door before I break it down!” you yelled, banging your hand against the wood for the upteenth time. 
You opened your mouth to yell once more, but before you could even make a sound a voice boomed out from behind you. “What are you doing here?” 
You turned with a start, coming face to face with Dean as he stood at the bottom of the steps. “I came to talk to you,” you said simply, taking a few steps forward. 
He quickly averted his gaze, focusing on wiping the grease from his hands with the rag he held. “Coulda just called,” he countered gruffly. 
“Why?” you asked, laughing dryly. “You’d just ignore my calls.” 
He stilled his ministrations for a moment before shrugging, glancing back up at you. “Maybe ‘cause we got nothing to talk about.” 
“Dean-” you tried to argue, though you stopped short when he rolled his eyes and turned away from you. 
“Look, I know all about you and Sam, okay?” he huffed, storming across the drive and to where Baby was parked, hood still open for Dean to continue working on her.  
“Oh, for god’s sake, Dean. There is no me and Sam!” you exclaimed with a groan, quickly following behind him. 
“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” he placated, picking up his previously abandoned ratchet. 
“Just listen to me,” you pleaded, watching his face scrunch with a mix of frustration and concentration as he dove back into his work. 
“You don’t need to explain,” he said distractedly. “I get it. He’s good for you. I just-... you didn’t need to hide it, [Y/N/N]. I thought we were closer than that.” 
“We are! That’s not what we were hiding, just let me explain!” you said desperately, stepping closer to him. 
“You can quit the act, okay?” he snapped, stopping what he was doing as he stood up, finally turning to look at you. “I have eyes, I saw what-” 
“Sam and I fucking switched bodies!” you yelled over him, effectively rendering him speechless. “Alright? When you walked in on us doing that spell the other week… it went wrong, Dean. Sam and I, we just-... we switched!”
“You… switched bodies?” he asked slowly, scepticism starting to present itself on his face as he processed what you said.
“Yes,” you confirmed softly. ”I was Sam, Sam was me.”
He nodded, shifting uncomfortably as he anxiously tapped his fingers on Baby’s exterior. “Well, isn’t that just a great story,” he muttered, leaning under the hood once more. 
“It’s not a story,” you argued desperately. “It’s what happened.” 
“Then why not tell me?” he challenged, not missing a beat. 
“Because,” you began lamely. “You always have so much on your plate, Dean. We didn’t want to shove this stupid thing on you and add to your worries.” 
“So you lied to me for my own good?” he asked harshly, gaze not straying from his hands as he worked. 
“We didn’t lie, we just-”
“Avoided the truth,” he finished for you. “Same thing, if you ask me.”
“We thought it was for the best,” you admitted quietly. 
“Oh, yeah,” he agreed sarcastically, throwing his tools down. “Sneaking around, icing me out. Definitely for my best interest, huh?” 
“Dean, please,” you pleaded. “I didn’t come here to fight with you.” 
“Then why did you come, [Y/N]?” he shouted, shutting Baby’s hood. “What did you think was gonna happen here?” 
“Well, I thought-... I just-... I wanted to clear the air,” you stammered. “I wanted to explain.” 
“Well, you explained,” he muttered, busying himself with tidying his mess. 
You watched him silently for a few moments, trying to think of your next move. You decided to ask the question that’s been on your mind since he left: “Were you really planning on actually telling me one day?” 
He let out an irritated sigh, picking up his belongings and moving around to the trunk. “What are you talking about?” 
“Were you really gonna tell me?” you repeated, quickly taking a few steps to meet him at the trunk.  
“Tell you what?” he huffed, irritation oozing off of him as he slammed the toolbox down. 
“How you feel!” you blurted out, taking yet another step towards him. 
“The hell are you talking about?” he questioned, feigning cluelessness. Though the way his body stiffened as he idly messed with the stuff in the trunk betrayed him; he knew what you meant.  
“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” you replied softly. “Were you?” 
“I don’t know!” he huffed, shutting the trunk. “Maybe,” he added, walking away from you once more. 
“You said-” 
“I know what I said!” he interrupted, clearly irritated. “Can we not relive it? I don’t want to talk about this.” 
“Well I do!” you argued, exasperated. “Why the fuck else do you think I’m here, Dean?”
“To clear the air,” he sneered, repeating your earlier words as he made his way back to the cabin. 
“To tell you I love you!” you shouted after him, stopping him in his tracks. “I didn’t choose Sam. How can I choose him when I’ve loved you for years? How can I choose him when my entire world stopped spinning the day you shut me out of your life all those years ago? How can I choose him when I didn’t feel like I could breathe until you finally spoke to me again? How can I choose him, when having to watch you walk away the other day was the most terrifying thing I had to do, because I didn’t know if I’d ever get you back this time? You can put us in any timeline, in any universe, or in any realm, and I will always choose you. I love you.”
You were met with silence for entirely too long, and you watched the unsteady rise and fall of his shoulders as he kept his back to you, standing tense as ever with his head down low. 
“Will you just look at me, please?” you pleaded shakily.
As soon as the words left your mouth he spun on his heel and marched towards you, closing the distance between you two in seconds. He grabbed your face in his hands, letting a moment of hesitation pass by before crashing his lips against yours. It was harsh yet delicate, slow but needy. It was gentle and all consuming. His hands strayed from your face, one sweeping to the back of your head to hold you steady while the other slipped to your waist and pulled you close. Your hands found themselves gliding up his arms, resting on the base of his neck for a moment before settling on his cheeks. 
When the two of you finally pulled away to catch your breath, it seemed like neither of you wanted to go too far; foreheads pressed together and noses brushing as you both giggled quietly, shy smiles on your swollen lips. 
You stood like that for a few minutes, basking in each other's presence in ways you never could before, until your gentle whisper cut through the silence: “Please come home, Dean.” 
“My sweet girl,” he said quietly, planting a delicate kiss to your forehead before completely wrapping you up in his arms, holding you closer than ever. “I am home.”
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tagging: @winharry
dividers by @firefly-graphics and @saradika
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kooqitas · 3 months
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#pairing: bf!jeonghan x virgin!reader.
#genre: smut MINORS DNI | #w.c: ~2500
#synopsis: you decide to question why your boyfriend is avoiding kissing you, you just didn't expect the reason to be so… sexual
#warnings: vaginal sex, unprotected sex, pet names, loss of virginity, fingering, praise kink, eating cum, oral sex, the reader at one point asks him to stop out of embarrassment, use of lube.
#notes: not proofread, english isn’t my first language! angry and longing sex has its value.
★ m.list | inbox :D ;; taglist
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
dating jeonghan sometimes felt like punishment from the universe. he was the most affectionate boyfriend in the world, he treated you so fucking well, he was affectionate in his touches and gestures, he understood you, he spent all the time he could with you, you felt so fucking loved, and of course, he was beautiful, damn, jeonghan was so beautiful that it was unfair, you even thought when they started flirting that he was lying to you, it was inhumane for someone to be pretty like that.
but then, what would be the punishment of the universe? he didn't feel sexual attraction towards you, seriously, it was the only possible explanation, jeonghan never touched you too much, he never insinuated naughty things to you, it seemed like he enjoyed your presence and that was it.
like now, he gave you a few cute kisses on the couch, but soon walked away, hugging you carefully again and paying attention to the movie. it frustrated you like hell, and not even you could explain what made you complain.
"do you want to break up?"
"excuse me?”
"break up, do you want to break up with me, jeonghan?" you asked again, visibly irritated.
"what? no? baby, are you okay?"
"damn, jeonghan, you don't kiss me properly, i’m tired of this! what's going on?"
jeonghan read you easily, so he soon understood what that subject was about, it turns out that the problem wasn't the lack of sexual attraction that your boyfriend had for you, quite the opposite, the problem was the excess of sexual attraction that he had .
“you’re virgin.”
“hm?”
“i don't kiss you properly because…” he took a breath deep. “being too close to you makes me feel things, and i’ll never pressure you into anything, so i think it's better to stay away.”
“wait. what?”
you gasped slightly at your boyfriend's confession, what do you mean kissing you made him feel things? i mean, of course you know exactly what those things were, but, does jeonghan really feel sexual attraction to you and that's why he avoids kissing you?
“i wanna fuck you, so bad. wow, i wanna fuck you like hell to be honest, but i know you've never had this experience so i don't wanna pressure you into anything.”
“fuck me?”
“so bad. that's why i keep moving away from your touches, you're driving me crazy, doll, i'm gonna go crazy because of you.”
you didn't answer your boyfriend, you just kissed him, knowing that he wanted you like that made you a little clouded with lust, you thought the situation was just the opposite.
"alright, alright, doll, calm down!" he laughed with your mouth still attached to his. “i'm really not kidding when i say you're driving me crazy."
"i need your kiss, hannie!"
“fuck!”
your boyfriend mumbled before kissing you the way he did a few weeks ago, his big hands towards your waist, squeezing there tightly as if he intended to leave marks, as if he wanted you to remember that feeling for hours and hours.
jeonghan seemed a little bolder than other times, especially when he pulled you onto his lap, you went without even thinking, and didn't even notice when he started to awkwardly roll around there, you only noticed the atmosphere of things when he moaned against your mouth.
you were scared, not like you didn't know what that moan or that thing growing beneath you meant, on the contrary, you were scared because you knew exactly what it all was.
"it's okay, princess! I'll take care of myself later." jeonghan was gentle as he placed a strand of hair behind your ear and kissed you again boldly.
you had never been in that situation, it was very likely that in the future you would blame your fertile period, and of course, how handsome your boyfriend was and was a good kisser.
but, in a way, you never had any resistance to sex either, it was just a matter of never finding someone who made you 100% comfortable with the idea of ​​taking off your clothes.
well, at least until you met jeonghan.
from the way he kissed you, the way he touched you and moaned against your mouth, even the way he involuntarily lifted his hips against you, fuck, everything made you feel so desired.
you felt his big hands enter your shirt and slowly move up from your belly to your ribs, leaving a not-so-chaste affection there, all while he continued to kiss you. jeonghan needed those touches as much as you did.
“hanie~” you moaned. 
“what, doll?” he kissed your jaw, making you feverish as his thumbs came up to brush against your tits, you had never received that kind of touch, jeonghan smiled when he saw how sly you became with that simple act.
you didn’t say anything else, just relaxed when his thumb finally touched your nipple, moaning against his neck. jeonghan laughed, and fuck, you felt so turned on by his machiavellian laugh.
"is my doll sensitive? god, how will you react when i touch you more..."
jeonghan continued running his thumb there, and you wanted to scream when his index finger came together to pull your nipple, the pleasant sensation of pain with pleasure, it was very different to feel jeonghan do this than to do by your own.
noticing your nonverbal permission, jeonghan pulled your shirt up, and you didn't really notice until he started staring at your breasts, and when you noticed, you tried to cover them, embarrassed.
"no, kitten, don't do that! fuck, you're so beautiful, le’mme put them in my mouth, hm?" jeonghan said kissing your neck, making you forget anything about the damn shame you felt. and when jeonghan finally rolled his tongue around your right nipple you couldn't even think, fuck, that was too much.
your hand entered his hair, pulling hard while you moaned something that even you didn't understand, his tongue surrounding and sucking your nipple with devotion, making you rub yourself even more on his lap. and everything got worse, or better, when he gave a light bite there, eliciting a loud moan from you that made him smile.
"you liked it, didn't you?"
you wanted to tell him to fuck off, you had already talked about you being a virgin, so he knew very well that he was the first person to touch you like that, to be honest, he not only knew but he imagined, fuck, jeonghan lost count of how many times he cum in own hand just imagining how sensitive you would be to his touches.
and there you were, to his happiness, and yours too.
"do you wanna go to my room?"
you were hesitant at first, going to the bedroom would mean letting things get even more intense. of course you were horny, but it was still your first time, you were definitely worried.
"hey, it's okay! we've kissed there several times..." he tried to calm you down.
"not with me without a shirt.”
jeonghan laughed, taking off his shirt too, damn, your boyfriend was so fucking hot. it was the first time you saw your boyfriend without a shirt face to face, damn...
"this makes it worse, not help." you confessed, laughing.
"we're gonna do just what you want, doll."
and so you agreed, letting jeonghan carry you to his bed.
something happened on the way between the sofa and the bed, because jeonghan was much more daring, still careful but cheeky.
he continued sucking your tits, making you lift your hips off the bed in search of more contact while moaning slyly, and then he took two fingers to your mouth, without taking his own mouth off your nipple. you looked at him, not really understanding what he wanted with that, and the answer you got was your boyfriend's dark eyes.
you had never seen jeonghan like this, his look was brimming with lust, that's the truth, you could cum just seeing him like this.
jeonghan kissed you again, removing his fingers from your mouth and cleaning them on your thighs, pressing them there with some force, making you wish more and more that he was touching you somewhere else...
“hannie~” you moaned.
"please, you're gonna drive me crazy moaning like that, i’m trying to have self-control!"
your boyfriend continued to kiss you, his hand groping your body making you shiver and feel chills, you couldn't think of anything else, you didn't even know what you had agreed to when he asked you something that you didn't even understand, but the next minute, your shorts were running down your legs, and despite being shy, you were grateful.
"you're so wet, doll, is this all for me?" you felt your face burn at the question, closing your legs and trying to hide your face with your hand. "no, there's no need to be ashamed, damn it, knowing that you want it the way i want it..."
"what are you doi-" you couldn't finish questioning, jeonghan rubbed his nose against your wet panties before you finished the sentence, making you let out an extremely loud moan, which made him smile.
your moan was the key point for jeonghan to lose even more self control, in the next second he was pushing your panties to the side and running his tongue all over your pussy.
"did you get wet for me? do you want your man to make you cum?"
“hannie… god… hannie, don’t say it!”
"why not?" he said, running his finger over your completely wet cunt. "makes you more horny? that's good, doll, you have to be really relaxed, and open for when i put my cock inside you." jeonghan looked at you as if he knew all of his dirtiest sins. "can i do this, doll? can i prepare you for my cock?"
“p-please…”
you didn't even know what you were asking for please, but it was divine when ejonghan's hot tongue came into contact with your cunt, you arched your hips, whimpering at the new sensation, feeling like you could melt on your boyfriend's tongue and then grabbing his sheet trying to discount what you was feeling.
jeonghan knew exactly what he was doing, every inch of your cunt felt his wet tongue, the new sensation making you whimper with pleasure while he just laughed, enjoying everything. jeonghan added one finger on you, and then two, and by the third you were seeing stars, even more so when he was telling you the whole time that he was just preparing you for his cock.
he spat on your pussy a few times, and the pornographic sound drove you insane, but worse than that was the sound of his tongue playing with you.
you tried to close your legs, your stomach was churning, but jeonghan stopped you, taking his fingers out of you only to lock your legs on the bed, making you moan even more.
"please please!" you tried to push jeonghan away from you, you tried to push his head away, you tried to close your legs. "hannie, please stop, i'll..."
"are you gonna cum for me?"
you knew you would, god it was so embarrassing. you nodded, whimpering in humiliation, trying one last time to get your boyfriend to let go of you, fuck, what if he didn't like the way you tasted?
"then i won't stop, doll! this is the best part... cum in my mouth, princess, your hannie wanna feel you!"
and you don't know if it was your boyfriend's words or how deep he put his tongue in you, but in the next second your legs were shaking around his head, as you came on the hot tongue that kept sucking you. jeonghan didn't stop, he seemed willing to take everything from you, every drop, every tremor, everything.
he laughed when after a few seconds he moved up his body to kiss you, his chin completely wet and you didn't know if it was saliva or his cum.
"you need to prove yourself, love, look how delicious you are!" and then jeonghan kissed you.
and there you were, feeling your boyfriend's saliva mixed with your recent orgasm, and damn, that was delicious.
your breathing was finished, but you wanted more, you continued rubbing yourself against your boyfriend without any shame, missing something of him filling you.
"hey, calm down! we need to breathe..." he joked. “or do you want more? Of course you want it, you want my cock opening your pussy, right?”
"i want more, hannie! please!" you said slyly, still rubbing against your boyfriend.
"god, you're insane, my dirty little girl! do you want more? do you want hannie to fill that pussy?"
"please" you were dizzy, the recent orgasm was still having its effects on your body, but you wanted more, you needed it so much.
and jeonghan would never deny your request.
you watched jeonghan take off his pants and underwear, and you couldn’t help but widen your eyes when you saw the size of his cock, damn, that was big.
it scared you a little, but you still wanted it. jeonghan laughed when he saw your shocked face, taking something from the desk next to the bed: it was a tube of lubricant.
"it will help us." he chuckled as he spread it across the entire length. "i’m gonna fill you up now, doll!"
jeonghan entered slowly, kissing your neck and playing with your nipples as he put every inch inside you, it was a little painful, but nothing unbearable, fingering you and using lube helped a lot.
when jeonghan was finally inside you completely, he withdrew, entering again, and you heard him let out a grotesque moan. damn, you've never felt so horny in your life.
jeonghan continued thrusting, his walls squeezing you as you felt him opening you up more and more.
"fucking hot, damn, i can't believe i’m fucking you.”
you moaned, gripping your boyfriend's shoulders as he bit your neck and went deeper and deeper.
"i’m gonna to fill you up, i'm gonna leave your pussy leaking my cum. my pussy. you're mine. your pussy is mine." jeonghan was still careful, but he wasn't thinking very well, especially given the way he seemed to want to devour you if he could.
the sensation was completely new to you, your fingers and not even jeonghan's would give you that sensation, you felt him inside you, you felt the desire, the heat of his body, fuck, it was too much. you just moaned, begging him not to stop. he laughed.
"let me cum in you? let me cum in that pussy, please."
you just nodded, clouded with pleasure. jeonghan brought his thumb to your clitoris, giving you a new sensation that made your body shiver, and it didn't last long, the next minute you came again, screaming your boyfriend's name for all the neighbors to hear.
with the pressure your pussy exerted, jeonghan came right away, letting you feel the hot liquid paint all your walls white, damn, that felt so fucking good.
you took a breath, and a few minutes later jeonghan went to the kitchen to get you a glass of water
"are you ok? did you like it?" he asked you
"fuck, yes"
"good, because i still wanna fuck you in doggy style, and make you suck my cock!"
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satoruxx · 11 months
Text
ANGEL ON MY SHOULDER.
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✧ PAIRING: gojo satoru x reader, geto suguru x reader (hinted) | 5k words
✧ SUMMARY: ghost!reader, major character death, jjk manga spoilers, so much angst bc you literally die lmao, longing, mutual pining, suppressed feelings, everyone sucks at love, some fluff, banter, might be slightly suggestive, lots of hinted feelings (read: suguru), arguments, overall this is painful so read if you enjoy angst !!
✧ RHEYA'S NOTE: this idea randomly came to me before i went to bed a few days ago and in the spirit of halloween, i figured why not? i live off of angst and need to share the pain with everyone lmao oops. this is late for halloween tho my bad !!
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i. 2007
satoru brings one more flower than he did the day before. morning glories again, of course, but an extra one. he had added one more to the the bunch every day since the day you died. the first day, he brought three, wrapped with a cheap blue ribbon that he found in his desk drawer. it was hardly a respectable bouquet, but those three flowers were the ones he'd grown for you, so it only seemed fitting.
he didn't care much for gardening. but one day you asked shoko what her favorite flowers were so you could give her some on valentine's day. she asked you what yours were so she could return the favor.
satoru never forgot morning glories after that day.
he's not even sure if morning glories are appropriate to bring to a grave, but he knows you'd like them.
you would tell him it didn't matter anyway.
ii. 2007
(suguru did not cry when you died. satoru watched, intently, because there was nothing in the universe that his six eyes couldn't catch. he waited for it, even a sliver of emotion that would betray suguru's bleeding heart, but he gave nothing. he just stood in front of the stone that marked the end of your life with a deep stare. something had settled there in his eyes, cold and resolute.
a few months before you died, you had told satoru that there was something wrong with suguru. you said that he'd been distant, somewhere far away, and you worried for him. you always did, so open with your affection for him.
"don't want him to get lost." you had hummed, your shoulder brushing against satoru's as you raise the mango ice pop he brought you to your mouth. satoru watches your lips out of the corner of his eyes, his stomach flipping eagerly even as he keeps his face impassive.
"he said it was just the summer heat," he answers, ignoring the sweet mango juice dripping down his knuckles. "should be nothing."
you don't look all that convinced, turning your head to look up at him with meaningful glance. "you sure?"
he stares at you for a lengthy second, cerulean eyes darting over your facial features, before he reaches up and knocks his knuckle against your forehead. "yeah. he'll be fine." he assures, and your shoulders relax as you continue to eat the ice pop.
you were right about it all. four days after you die, suguru massacres an entire village.)
iii. 2008
satoru shifts in his bed, grunting quietly he begins to stretch his stiff joints. his eyes crack open, still heavy with sleep as he waits for his dark ceiling to come into focus. except it doesn't, because all he can see are a pair of very familiar looking eyes. unsaturated, but still so obviously the color he once knew. his own eyes snap open, all traces of sleep gone as he finally makes out someone who looks exactly like you, perched on his stomach with a confused and slightly panicked expression.
he shoots up, and you pull back a little. it looks like you're on his lap, and yet he can't feel you on him at all. he gulps.
"hey toru." you say quietly, and his stomach drops. the same eyes, the same voice. gods above.
"you're dead," he says simply, trying not to betray the way his pulse is jumping at even the smallest glimpse of you again. "you're not real."
"i'm dead," you confirm, nodding your head as you look down at your translucent palms. "but i'm here somehow."
he sucks in a breath, reaching out a hand as if to touch you. the disappointment he feels when it passes through your form is sickening.
you smile shakily, shrugging your shoulders as you attempt to make light of the situation.
"guess i couldn't stay away."
he stares at you for minutes without saying a word and you stare back, equally silent.
iv. 2007
(nanami had carried your body back, his teeth gritted as his blonde hair fell over his eyes. satoru never brought it up, but he knew that nanami remained bothered by it for the rest of his life. your death was bad timing, especially after they had just lost haibara a few weeks prior.
nanami had no reason to blame himself though. if anything, it was satoru's fault you were gone.
shoko had called him from the infirmary, her voice hard and pinched as she spat out three words: "get down here."
when satoru saw your body, he didn't say a word. just took a few long strides until he was at the table where nanami had placed you down. your eyes were shut, face resting in a way that seemed so unnatural. he opened his mouth to ask shoko something, but felt like he was choking on air, so he stopped himself.
then he grabbed your limp fingers, squeezed them gently. they were still a little warm, but not as warm as you usually run. shoko didn't say anything, just stood there with her hands clenched, short brown hair falling over her dark eyes.
satoru remained there for the next thirty minutes, waiting for you to sit up and laugh at the prank you were no doubt pulling. as if your blood wasn't still dripping all over the table.
shoko was the one who finally pulled a sheet over your body with shaking hands. she didn't look satoru in the eye, and didn't spare a glance when suguru burst into the room ten minutes later.)
v. 2008
it takes satoru a while to get used to the fact that you're not physically there. he has to bite his tongue when he moves to bump your shoulder or flick your forehead only to find that his skin goes right through yours. you always give him that same little rueful smile, and he sighs to himself.
he doesn't make an effort to figure out why you're there. he figures it's similar to how jujutsu users can come back as curses due to strong feelings. when he thinks about it though, guilt lodges itself into his throat, because the first thought he had when he heard you were entering death's door was no, don't you dare die.
every day he wonders if he's the one who cursed you to stay.
you act like it doesn't matter, hovering around him as he busies himself in his empty room. at first you're quiet, as though you've forgotten how to speak to him in your incorporeal form. but then you start asking him questions, and it's one question that satoru dreads to answer that you finally bring up.
"where's suguru?"
he's not stupid. he knows there's more you think of suguru than you've ever revealed. of course you'd want to know. but that doesn't mean he wants to be the one to tell you. you had died with nothing but a good impression of geto suguru. you'd probably died with your feelings for him still intact too.
it'd be selfish of satoru to ruin that.
"nothing, don't worry about it," he dismisses, voice clipped as he busies himself with preparing dinner. he knows that won't deter you.
you huff, moving to hover in his line of sight. you cross your arms as you glare at him seriously, and satoru hates how nostalgic your expression makes him feel. he tongues his cheek before sighing.
"he's gone." satoru answers simply. he tries to keep his tone even but it comes out bitter and strained. he can hear your quiet gasp, and feels your form move closer to him. if you were alive, he'd be able to feel your breath on his skin now.
"what do you mean, gone?"
satoru sighs again, turning to look at you completely. he hated everything about this. "he left school. went crazy. killed a bunch of people, including his parents."
he would've laughed at the comical way your jaw dropped if you didn't look so hurt. you sputter over your words as he picks up his bowl and moves to the table, trailing after him and demanding more information.
he doesn't hesitate to share, because he's always hated keeping secrets from you. you had this uncanny ability to see straight through him, and it never failed to make him feel unsettled. so he tells you everything that happened in the few weeks after you died. suguru leaving, their confrontation in shinjuku, his plans for non-sorcerers. he leaves nothing unsaid.
when he's done, he finally looks at you, trying to gauge your reaction. but you're just staring at his food with a bitter expression, brows pinched and lips pursed. satoru says your name once.
you glance at him, and it's too quick for him to look for any accusation in it. doesn't matter though, because he's ready to own up to his mistakes.
"you were right back then. about suguru." satoru admits quietly, turning to his food. he doesn't want to look at you anymore, because he's scared you'll show him how disappointed you are with him.
you don't say anything in response. but you sit down at the small dining table and watch him eat with soft eyes, one bite at a time. satoru doesn't admit it, but the whole time he imagines that you're gently rubbing his shoulder, and he thinks he hasn't missed you more than in that moment.
vi. 2007
(it was satoru's fault you died. if he hadn't been so selfish, you'd still be next to him, shoulder brushing his as the two of you walked through the streets of tokyo.
you had knocked on his door that morning before you had left for your last mission, rocking on your heels. he opened it groggily, still half asleep.
"you going on a mission?" satoru had yawned, drowsy eyes trailing over your uniform. you nod with a grin.
"mhm, with nanami. there are two separate areas with curses though, so we'll split up when we get there. should be simple enough." you shrug, toying with the collar of your uniform jacket.
satoru decides to be annoying. "then why are you here disturbing my sleep? get out." he groans dramatically, peering at you with narrowed eyes. you smack his arm, scoffing. you've stopped questioning why he keeps his infinity down for you do those things to him.
"i was gonna ask if you wanted to come with," you hiss, crossing your arms defensively. "but i'm taking it back, asshole."
he grins. "what? can't stay away?"
you roll your eyes, shaking your head with a sarcastic laugh. "don't flatter yourself."
satoru pauses for a second. "i was gonna go back to sleep." he admits, feeling a little guilty. he had just come back from a mission the night before, and he doesn't feel like leaving again. he doesn't know how to say that to you though.
but you see right through him, like you always do.
"you've been going on missions a lot lately," you smile earnestly, patting his shoulder. "no wonder you're tired."
"'m the strongest, i don't get tired." he protests, crossing his arms with a scoff. you roll your eyes again, sticking your tongue out at him as you heft your weapon over your shoulder.
"keep it up and you're seriously gonna fry your brain or something," you say with a shake of your head, eyes betraying your concern for him. he notices it, and tries to smother down the way it makes his stomach flip. "i'll be fine. you can come on my next mission with me."
fair enough, he thinks. he hadn't gone on missions with you or suguru in a while. he should remember to ask yaga to let him go on your next one. just the two of you. you and him. maybe he'd buy you a mango ice pop on the way back.
"fine." he acquiesces easily, not even thinking to protest. he'll see you later anyway, so he'll talk to you more when you get back.
you smirk a little, motioning to his bedhead, before gently kicking his shin. "go back to sleep then, stupid."
he rolls his eyes, reaching up to knock his knuckle against your forehead like he always does. "whatever. bring me some sweets on your way back, yeah?"
the laugh you give him as he shuts the door is the last thing he ever hears from you.
he should've gone with you.)
vii. 2012
satoru hates the way you're looking at him right now.
it was a stupid little mistake. he had gone to see little megumi and tsumiki earlier that afternoon, and as usual, you had tagged along with him. you'd watched him raise up the two kids over the last few years, never failing to tease about his newly acquired fatherhood, or how much he seemed to care about them despite his efforts to hide it. he didn't ever think to say that you'd helped him raise them up too. even in your incorporeal form you'd always been around to tell him what meals he could prep or to remind him that megumi liked black forest cake for his birthdays.
he'd gotten so used to you being around and he slipped up once. that afternoon when he had walked megumi home from school, teasing and poking fun at the kid, he'd made a stupid joke. megumi had rolled his eyes and told him to shut up.
and then without thinking, satoru had turned to you as you hovered next to him and groaned your name out dramatically before whining, "this kid is so mean to me!"
your eyes widened immediately, and if you were alive he'd probably see the color drain from your face. his stomach had sank and he couldn't tear his eyes away from you, even when megumi glanced at him with a raised brow.
"who are you talking to?" he asked, and satoru gulped, shaking his head as he broke eye contact with you to look down at the kid.
"nobody." he had answered.
he tries to ignore the meaningful stare you pin him with for the rest of the afternoon, hoping that you'll just forget about it. but as soon as satoru has left the kids and he's back in his own room, you're on him. he busies himself with making a cup of hot chocolate, even though he feels sick to his stomach.
"satoru you have to figure out how to get rid of me!" you plead, eyes so sad it makes his stomach churn. "i'm gonna drive you insane!"
"i'm fine!" he snaps back, shaking his head as he takes a sip from his mug, the warmth distracting him from whatever it was you were trying to remind him of. he places it down on the table in front of him and crosses his arms defensively. "it was a stupid mistake. won't happen again."
you shimmer in and out of focus, manifesting in front of him with a glare, though your eyes are still the same. wounded and hurt. "it wasn't and you know it! you can't keep living like this. i've been haunting you for years, toru!"
"well who asked you to go ahead and die?!" he yells without thinking, and it's like he sees your hurt bubble forth in slow motion.
"i went and died because i made a stupid mistake on a mission! quit blaming yourself, you dumbass!" you shout, voice raised higher than he's ever heard it.
satoru's mug shatters against the wall.
the two of you immediately turn to look at the mess with wide eyes, before slowly turning to each other to ensure that it really did happen.
"how'd you do that?" satoru asks quietly, his voice strained as he takes a few long strides towards you. you look down at your hand, the same one that you had lifted to swipe at his mug during your fit of rage. you look back up at him with wide eyes and parted lips. satoru's head is pounding, some kind of sick hope stirring within him. "you had to have touched it."
"i don't…" you trail off, voice filled with awe and a bit of fear. satoru reaches up a hand, ignoring the tremble in it, and moves to touch your face. he will never admit to the amount of times he begs in his head, please please please.
his hand goes straight though your skin, and your eyes soften. satoru lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding, hiding his disappointment as he takes a step back and turns away.
viii. 2006
(satoru thinks gardening is ridiculous. plants are so fragile, needing to be constantly monitored and cared for like children. he can't understand why anyone would choose to garden as a hobby when there were less stressful things to do in spare time.
even the process was time consuming, he realizes as he scoops out piles of dirt into the small pots he had set out on his windowsill.
he thinks back to the silly little grin you had on your face as you answered shoko's question.
"morning glory," you had said, leaning against her shoulder. "i like the way they open in the morning and close at night."
shoko hummed, staring at the sky even as satoru quietly eavesdropped. "you got a favorite color?"
"the blue ones," you answered. "they're the prettiest."
your voice echoes in his head as he places the seeds into the soil, and he sighs heavily. why he was doing this for you was beyond him.
the thought makes him annoyed, and he huffs in frustration the entire time he plants them. gardening had to be the stupidest hobby ever.
and yet when three blue morning glories bloom against his windowsill, he can't hold back his grin.)
ix. 2017
satoru's grateful that you don't watch him kill suguru.
he tells you to go, and you give suguru a long stare, face pinched and sour even though your translucent eyes are shining. it's a shame suguru can't see you though, because satoru thinks you look so pretty. suguru would've been lucky to have you be the last thing he ever saw.
you turn away and disappear without a word, and after one last exchange, satoru finishes the job.
it's only after he watches rika's final goodbye to yuta does he realize the extent of what a goodbye even means. he'd said one to suguru, and yet he can't help but miss him as he walks back home. he wonders if suguru wouldn't have had to die if you were still around.
satoru had never gotten a goodbye with you though. you're somehow still with him, but he misses you so much. it puts an ugly feeling in his gut, twisted and dark. it weighs down on his shoulders as he finally opens the door to his room, heavy and overwhelming as he sees you sitting on his bed, face vacant.
he says your name, and you don't move. he takes a seat next to you, and something about your sad expression makes him so unbelievably angry.
"quit being sad about it," he finally spits out, the truthful extent of his feelings coming out. "it's not like you're even alive that you'd be able to see him."
you scoff as you give him a sidelong glare. "what's that supposed to mean? one of my closest friends just died and you expect me not to be upset about it?"
"at least he'll find a way to you!" satoru hisses, clenching his fists so hard that his nails leave crescents in his skin. "you two can have fun together for all of eternity."
there's a tense silence that follows as he grits his teeth, turning away from you. he's so disgusted right now. with suguru, with you, with himself.
"i'm all by myself." satoru mutters bitterly, the words so foreign on his tongue as the truth hits him.
god he misses you so much.
he suddenly feels a sharp thwack on the back of his head and he's turning around with wide eyes.
"don't you dare forget about shoko!" you hiss, tears in your eyes as you glare at him, hand raised. "i'll never forgive you!"
his throat goes dry, because the smack you just gave him was the first time you'd touched him since the day you died. there's a storm in his throat that threatens to break free, but he tries to keep it lodged in his throat. even with your teary eyes, he thinks you look just as pretty as you did with life flowing through you.
he misses suguru. he knows you do too, because there are translucent tears dripping down your cheeks and he has never ached to touch you more. but he can't because you're dead.
you remain in front of him all night, barely saying a word in between your sniffles. he doesn't say anything either, just watching you.
he doesn't know what there is to say. the only thing he ever wishes he got to say to you was goodbye. but you're here, in front of him, so a goodbye seems pointless.
when the sun comes up, you wish him a merry christmas, and he swears you never left him.
satoru says it back to you. you smile sadly.
he misses you so much.
x. 2007
(satoru had cleaned out your dorm room three days after you died.
he didn't really understand why he was doing it so early. shoko had frowned when he told her that he planned to pack away your things, frowned in a way that made her look like she disagreed.
well even if she did disagree, it didn't stop her from sitting in your desk chair, chewing on her nail quietly as she watched satoru fold your clothes. he didn't even understand why he was doing this.
maybe it was because every time he walked past your empty dorm room he felt sick to his stomach. there was a twisting feeling in his gut when he realized that you'd never curl up in that bed again. never sit by the window with a grin watching him and suguru bicker as they threw playing cards on the floor. he figured the faster he got rid of your remnants, the quicker the feeling would go away.
that's what he's hoping anyway. but when he picks up your jujutsu uniform he feels something claw at his throat, and he unconsciously digs his fingers into the fabric. he hears a sigh from behind him and then shoko is at his side, wordlessly easing the cloth from his hand. she lays it on the bed, smoothing out the wrinkles before folding it carefully. when she places it into the box, satoru thinks her hands shake a bit.
there's a bitter expression on shoko's face that he's never seen before, and it makes his stomach twist.
they work on your room for the next few hours, until the sun has disappeared behind the horizon and the cool evening breeze bullies its way into your old space. neither of them say anything, save for the occasional nostalgic hum as they remember something that you did or they're reminded of the story behind one of the trinkets in your room. otherwise it's silent, and for a second satoru feels like he can hear your laugh.
it isn't until night has completely fallen that they are interrupted.
"what are you doing?"
satoru turns around just as shoko looks up, both of them finding suguru standing in the doorway. he hadn't taken a step in yet, eyes still trailing over the emptiness of your old room from behind an uncrossed line.
"cleaning." satoru answers, his voice oddly clipped.
"it wasn't messy…" suguru mutters back, his lips slanting in such an unusual way. there was an uncharacteristically determined look in his eyes, as though there was something in him that was struggling to burst forth. satoru didn't understand what it was.
"never said it was." satoru replies noncommittally. he hears shoko inhale deeply, shifting in your old chair as she watches the two of them stare at each other. there's a tense silence as he notices suguru frown.
satoru can't remember the last time he even had a full conversation with suguru. he remembers seeing you leave for your last mission, and he wants to kick himself for not asking earlier to be sent on group missions with the two of you.
even now, he doesn't really know what to say to suguru. all he can do is tighten his fingers around the edge of the box with your stuff neatly packed in, and watch his best friend sigh.
suguru wets his lips, eyes darting over your desk. there's an odd expression on his face, and his brows pinch as he notices something. then suguru reaches out to pick up an old polaroid, and satoru knows exactly which one it is. your arms slung around suguru's shoulders, smile so wide your cheeks probably hurt. suguru's expression was uncharacteristically gentle.
satoru remembers it so well, because he's the one who took the picture.
suguru looks at the polaroid without a word, rubbing the corner between his thumb and forefinger, and his expression suddenly mirrors the gentleness in the picture. his eyes remain stormy, deep and unsettling as he reaches conclusions that satoru will never understand.
the three of them stay quiet for a few minutes, even though satoru has so many questions that he can't figure out how to phrase. shoko toys with a cigarette between her lips, leaving it unlit because you've always hated the smell of smoke. suguru just stands there, silently eyeing your unfiltered smile through the lens of a camera.
satoru wonders if suguru's trying to say goodbye to you. he doesn't ask, and suguru doesn't say.
only after something had clicked in suguru's eyes, did satoru realize something was over. he couldn't help but feel like he had just buried you in that cardboard box with all your things, and he swallows hard.
then suguru clenches his fists, veins flexing as he looks around your room, almost like he was committing it to memory. satoru didn't understand why; it's not like suguru couldn't come see your room anytime he wanted.
then he turns away, hand lingering on the doorframe heavily, without another word.
just as suguru walks away, satoru thinks he hears your voice whispering in his ear.
"don't want him to get lost."
xi. 2018
something is wrong. something happened. something is wrong.
satoru knows he needs to wake up. but he's so tired, so exhausted from carrying on all by himself. he suddenly remembers the taste of frozen mango, sweet and chilled, and he wants to keep thinking about it for the rest of eternity.
but something is wong. he needs to wake up.
the minute satoru forces his eyes open, he can ignore the taste of blood in his mouth because you're there.
you're kneeling at his side, sunlight shining behind your head in a way that makes you look almost angelic. he'd believe it if you said you were an angel, because you've been dead for so long now.
you'd been a ghost for so many years, hovering around him and getting him through everything that had come his way. isn't that what guardian angels were supposed to do, guiding humans through their own trials? isn't that what you were doing to him since the day you died and came back to him?
you'd been a ghost. you'd been his angel. you'd been haunting him.
you'll always haunt him.
you seem to know it too, because the expression on your face is understanding, soft and yet so sad.
for what seems like the millionth time in his life, satoru aches to touch you.
he tries to move his hand but finds that he can't. synapses misfire. he can't feel his body anymore.
he wants to touch you. gods above, he wants to touch you so badly. please just this one last wish.
your translucent forms shimmers in the sunlight, and satoru can't tell if he's hallucinating or not because you suddenly seem to become fully physical. the particles of your form solidify, slowly filling with more color until you don't look quite so dilute. the saturation of your eye color comes back, and satoru can't look away because he's never seen a ghost so pretty before.
his breath hitches as you gently cup his cheek in your palm, warm and gentle. the melancholic look on your face makes his eyes sting.
"it's good to see you." he says with a weak smile, ignoring the metallic taste on his tongue. his breath is short, mind racing because your skin is on his again. finally, after so many years. you're so soft, just like he remembers.
"you weren't supposed to join me this quick." you sigh, eyes shining as you smile down at him ruefully. your thumb brushes over his bottom lip, and satoru's cerulean eyes flutter.
no. no more waiting. he'd missed you too much. he doesn't have it in him to stay away from you anymore. he'd done it long enough. your fingers tremble against his skin and he almost laughs.
no more haunting.
there's a resolute part of him that knows you'll be the first thing he sees when he gets to wake up again. he decides that, when he does, he'll get you a mango ice pop and plant some morning glories with you.
his eyes fall shut with a sigh.
"guess i couldn't stay away."
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3K notes · View notes
solbaby7 · 4 months
Text
Feel Me
pairing: azriel x reader
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warnings: swearing, sexual descriptions, tensionnnn, cocky!az , minors DNI
summary: Fae males don’t make love like the sweet boys you knew in the human lands. Fae’s fuck.
based of the request in [ part 1 ]
No one else was supposed to be home.
Rhys and Feyre had left long before the morning dew could mist over the lawn. Cassian and Nesta had slipped out hours ago with their leathers on and hair neatly braided after a steaming cup of coffee.
Buttered pancakes steam on a plate, bacon sizzles on the stove and your hips sway in tandem with whatever bouncy song your humming. Strawberry stumps grow in a pile to your left, knife slicing at ripe fruit contentedly until a sneaky wisp of darkness snatches a piece for its master. “You planning on sharing?”
“Depends on how nicely you ask.”
Azriel doesn’t bite, he only raises a brow with a smirk growing at the corner of full lips. “Was it polite words that initiated Elain’s legs straddling your waist the other night?” Shock shoves the ability to form a sentence out the window and you despise the way your eyes linger on the mess of dark hair atop his head—thoughts wandering to less than respectable places when picturing other ways to muss up soft strands. “Bacon’s burning.”
A frustrated scoff pulls from your throat, a blush fanning across your cheeks and gratefulness floods your chest when you actually have something to busy your hands with to avoid Azriel’s honeyed stare. “Not that it’s any of your business,” You hiss, avoiding spattering oil while forking meat from the pan. “But, I was just helping out a friend.”
“Helping?” His morning voice was sinful; a low rasp coupled with lazy lids and a t-shirt that fit entirely too well.
“I offered sound advice.” The house cleans while you plate, stealing berry stumps as a warm rag is ran over the countertops. Hot water is poured in a mug, a tea bag string twirled around the handle. Azriel’s already next to you, twisting open the honey jar and passing it over before you can reach for it. “I demonstrated to ensure a thorough understanding—nothing more.”
“And what exactly were you demonstrating?”
“Like I said, it’s none of your business.” Syrup drowned pancakes are shoved into your mouth, favoring the possibility of choking on fluffy goodness over engaging in this conversation for a second longer.
Azriel doesn’t feel the same way, blocking off your hasty exit with his body. Was he always this tall? Giant wings hover behind him and they rustle softly when you reach out a hand to gently push him away. It was a mistake on your part—initiating physical contact because now all you could focus on was the warmth that ebbed through the soft cotton of his shirt and the hard muscles hiding beneath it. “Make it my business.”
You don’t pull away, too entranced with the smell of him. The feel of his body against your fingertips. The barely there distance that toed the line of entirely too close. “I don’t understand why you’d even care.” You mutter, snatching your hand away when you catch yourself subconsciously rubbing at the dark fabric. “I was—“ Words stammer, breath catching over the intensity of his stare and you have to will your voice to steady itself. “I was teaching her how to properly be intimate with a male.”
“I didn’t realize there was a proper way.”
“You know what I mean,” You ramble, obviously flustered when swatting away the inky fog that attempts to swipe crispy bacon from your plate. “She asked for advice and I gave a few tips to make her feel more confident—more comfortable. I was being friendly.” The pancakes have started to go cold around the edges but you can’t find it in yourself to care when Azriel keeps stalking closer, arms boxing you into the counter with ease.
“Hm,” His face is unreadable, void of any emotion but your certain his eyes go just a touch darker when you lean back, your shirt rising; broadcasting a sliver of your stomach and the pale blue panties peeking out of your sleep shorts. “And if I wanted some friendly advice—would you help me with that too?”
Breakfast is long forgotten, your eyes following the plate being pushed away by hands much bigger than your own. A shaky laugh emits, strands of your hair tickle at your cheeks and you’re painfully aware of your attire—or lack thereof judging by hardened peaks poking through delicate silk. “Az, you’re no blushing virgin. What could I possibly help you with?”
Cool shadows trace over bare legs, teasing up your calves and curling around your knees. “I can think of a few things.”
A predatory darkness coats every word, lids narrowing challengingly at you from above. There’s nowhere to run and truthfully you didn’t want to; falling into the trap of his insinuations until the smell of your arousal was becoming anything but subtle. But, then again, who fucking cared when this was exactly what you’d been craving for as long as you could remember. Filthy little fantasies about the Illyrian soldier had plagued your mind for decades. You were reduced to haughty looks and bitten lips while he sparred shirtless with Cassian, sweat gleaming against his chest and the sharp ring of swords colliding. Dirty desires that flared when you’d bump into Az late at night, his hair messy and eyes hazy—that lazy smile and those pet names that he’d let slip when he was too tired to overthink them.
Could it have been possible that Elain had been right?
That you just needed to look to find what you were yearning for.
You pray you don’t appear as desperate as you feel when your eyes scan his own; sifting through the shades of warm caramel and burnt sephia as if they’d shift into mystical beings with endless answers to your list of questions. “Such as?”
“Maybe,” The syllables are drawn out with a sing-songy lilt that has your legs shifting. “—we can start with why you thought she’d be using your tricks and charms on me?” You blame the breeze sifting through the curtains on the shiver that rakes up your spine.
The counter is cold when you lift yourself onto it, palms flat and back curving against the window pane. You shrug, breaking the eye contact and turning your head to face the flying creatures fluttering their feathery wings in the bird bath. “I hadn’t considered it’d be anyone else. You and Elain spend lots of time together and she’s obviously beautiful in that delicate, sweetheart in need of saving sort of way.”
“Careful, you almost sound jealous.”
“I am not jealous,” Well, not anymore. But, he didn’t need to know that you’d ever wasted a second of sleep on him. “It was just an observation.”
“A poor one.”
“Then I suppose it’s a good thing that I’m not going after your job.” Your arms cross over your chest, knees childishly nudging at the top of his thighs to push him away but he remains steady like a brick wall. Irritation pushes the fluttery twist of yearning out of the way the longer Azriel peers down at you with that look in his eye—that stupidly handsome smirk plastered on his annoyingly kissable lips. “Any other questions you’d like to interrogate me with?”
The vitriol in your tone only furthers the grin on his face, eating up the fluctuating emotions he pulls from you like a full course meal. “Just one more.” A breeze shifts through the open window, cutting through the strands of your hair and the smell of your conditioner permeates the space between you. “How much longer must I wait for you to pursue me before I have to take you for myself?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Beg all you’d like but not for your pardon.” It’s said so swiftly your brain barely registers the suggestive nature of it before he’s talking again. Sweeping you up in the whirlwind that was Azriel and all you could do was hold on tight for the ride. He obtains a boldness you could only dream of, hips jutting forward between your legs to keep you from slipping away; closing the distance until his wants and desires are anything but unclear when pressed so firmly against you. “How much longer?
You swallow, the movement tracked by a hunters stare as you scramble to pull together a coherent sentence. “I suppose that depends.”
“On what?”
“On if you have any almost lovers that you’re still pining after?” Shadows glide over the countertop, sneaking behind you and urging you forward. Silky sleep shorts shuffle upwards with the motion and Azriel’s wastes no time in his exploration. Warm hands rake up the length of your legs leisurely, tracing over barely there scars and memorizing moles many overlooked. “Or do you only want me because you’ve never had me?”
Tension hold thick in the air, heavy mugginess that coats your skin with an uncomfortable warmth as you and Az sized each other up—waiting to see who’d break first.
The odds didn’t seem to be swaying in your favor.
“Never had you?” Azriel repeats as if you’ve told a joke, confidence roaring in his veins from the reactions your body offers him. Goosebumps follow the tantalizing trail of his fingers up your legs, thighs subconsciously shifting wider, granting access for more of his body to touch against your own. “Every time I close my eyes, I have you.” He has to know the effect this has on you. That must be why he insists on stealing your backbone and converting it into a makeshift leash until you’re completely pliant in his grasp. “Not exactly conventional. Nowhere near comparable the real thing, I’m sure.” A wicked gleam twinkles in his eyes, his hard chest the perfect contrast against the softness of your own. “But, it’s certainly served to be good practice.”
“Azriel—“
“How much longer should I wait?”
The barely restrained need he emits makes your stomach clench. Forces your eyes to dart from his own to his mouth; lingering, lusting.
Fuck, not much longer at all. It felt like the clock was ticking and with each second that passed, your fate grew nearer and nearer.
Instinct speeds up the process, nudging you closer until the tip of your nose brushes against his own. It’s cautious—exploratory. Testing what was allowed and what wasn’t but Azriel’s patience only stretches so far and waiting for this—for you—is an impossible task.
His mouth covers yours in a claiming clash of eager lips and hands desperate to learn the shape of you.
You’re no better, nails raking through inky strands and scouring the strong slope of his shoulders like a woman starved. A relieved sigh tickles at his skin when he kisses over your cheeks, down your neck; until that spot just below your ear forces out low whines. “Az,” Your chest heaves, lungs struggling for a full breath. “Someone will see us.”
Azriel groans, lips searching for the spots that shut you up. The spots that had your spine curving and leg hooking over his waist. You lean back, anticipating the cool chill of the wall but all you meet is soft sheets and fluffy pillows as inky shadows disperse around the room. “Better?”
“Almost.” Eager fingers grip at the offending fabric hiding golden-brown skin beneath, attempting to yank it free. “Take this off.”
“You’re not this demanding in my dreams.”
“And in mine, your mouth isn’t really used for talking.”
Azriel’s efficient in adjusting to your suggestions, tearing apart soft silk as if it were nothing more than a piece of parchment in his quest of baring more of you to him. Hips buck up and nails dig into the hard-earned muscles of his back while his mouth sucked marks across your chest. Warm hands dip under the waistband of your shorts, back curving softly in anticipation as preening little moans cut through the darkness of Azriel’s bedchambers.
When he finally touches where you need him most, teeth sink harshly into the fat of your bottom lip; the feeling of his fingers dragging slow circles over the thin cotton of your underwear becoming the perfect torture. It feels too good to ponder on about the arousal soaking through your delicates or the desperate pleas for more that tumbles from your lips like sinful prayers.
Any remaining clothing falls carelessly to the floor, the hard length of him resting at the crux of your thighs. “Are you sure?”
“Don’t I feel sure?” Your brows are a little pinched when you stare up at him, a hand wedging between your bodies to guide the swollen head of his cock to your entrance.
“You feel like mine,” Az confesses hoarsely. Inch by deliciously devastating inch is pushed to the brim, hazel eyes transfixed on the snug wrap of your pussy and the warmth that follows. “Like you were fucking made to take my cock.”
He was better than you’d ever pictured, stealing your very breath away with each dragged out stroke. “Az,” His gaze is heavy, sliding up to meet your own with dark promise casting shadows against god-like features. “Please, just move.”
“Here I was trying to get you properly adjusted,” A biting grip begins at your waist, fingers digging precious prints into your hips as Azriel positions you as he pleases. Bare thighs are braced in the crease of his arms, a cocky smirk ghosting his face. “But you just wanna be fucked.” Eyes roll behind fluttering lids when the pace picks up, the position forcing you to take every inch until all you can offer is choked moans and garbled praises.
Claiming marks are placed wherever Azriel’s mouth can reach, muffled groans and deep grunts of pleasure vibrating against your skin as he carves out a space specifically made for him. You don’t last long, lips searching for his own as you clench around the length of him; toes curling and manicured nails biting at the base of his wings.
“There you go,” He croons, gently tucking stray hairs away from your face—a complete juxtaposition from the relentless way his cock fucks into you. “Taking me so well.”
Bleary eyed and boneless you are in his grasp; allowing him to act on every secret fantasy and salacious desire he'd harbored longer than he could remember until you feel the vicious twitch inside you, his hips stuttering and seed spilling.
The room reeks of sex, sheets sodden and clothes too ruined to walk out of there wearing them without looking like you belonged in a pleasure hall.
Not that it would matter—Azriel won't let you go now; hooked like an addict to their drug of choice. "You were wrong, you know." Your brow raises in silent question. "Now that I've had you, I can't see myself ever wanting anything else."
1K notes · View notes
rinhaler · 10 months
Note
Rin Itoshi and female s/o taking each other first time
omgggggg i tried to make it romantic and sweet but i do love a slutty ass dude who's in control so apologies if this isnt exactly what u wanted hehe
warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, virgin!rin, virgin!reader, fingering, best friends to lovers, mutual pining, tit sucking, "just the tip" pfft, slight manipulation, brief condom use, premature ejaculation, creampie.
words: 2.9k
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Your heart races as you watch Rin scroll through his phone and find some music to play. He looks so serious, though that’s nothing new. You don’t dare speak, worried you’ll say the wrong thing if you do. He looks up at you, briefly, offering a weak smile before looking through his phone again.
“We don’t have to do this, you know.” he tells you without even looking at you. You watch him as he starts hooking up his phone to the Bluetooth speaker in your room, and you shuffle uncomfortably on top of your bed.
“I want to… ‘m just scared.” you confess, breath shaking slightly as you exhale. “Do you still want to?” you wonder, feeling shy as you ask. You’re sure he wouldn’t be here if he didn’t want to, though.
Rin doesn’t do anything he has no interest in.
“Yeah.” he tells you, setting his phone down before looking back at you, finally. He’s so far away, it feels too formal. Though you assume he wants to set the pace and make sure everything is comfortable for you both before you proceed. “We agreed,”
“I know.” you nod, recalling the moment you decided as teenagers to give each other your virginities if you hadn’t lost them after you turned twenty. “Just checking.”
The concept of Rin being single, let alone a virgin, is something you can’t even begin to comprehend. You’ve been best friends with him since you could talk. You remember him having no interest in you until you forced your way into playing soccer games with him and his brother. You soon gave it up once you got what you wanted, but you’ve been inseparable ever since.
Girls have always thrown themselves at Rin, but he never cared. Not really. You remember him having one girlfriend and it never went anywhere. It only lasted three weeks. He told you the gory details of their sex lives, though. Only because you asked.
It didn’t go past hand stuff.
“I brought condoms.” he tells you, pulling a box from his bag and setting them down on the desk he’s sitting by.
“I- I’m on the pill.” you respond. “I heard it feels better without… those. But we should use them.”
“Okay, yeah.” he agrees.
“… but we don’t have to.”
“I’ll use one.” he assures you, not wanting to make you feel pressured to go raw for his benefit. Though you’re sure it would be for yours, too. “If you want me to take it off, I can do that.”
You nod, agreeing.
“This is so…” you think, searching around the room for any inspiration of a descriptor to use. He stares at you, intently, wondering what you might say. He’d never tell you, but he’s just as nervous as you are. Of course he has an edge of experience ahead of you, but he’s still clueless. He wants to make sure this is going to be nice for you.
Perfect, if possible.
“What?”
“Formal.” you shrug.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” he responds, scratching his neck as he thinks about what you told him. He looks around, feeling a little too awkward to make eye contact. “I just want to make sure everything’s going to be okay…”
“It’s fine, you’re right.” you smile, “I just thought my first time would be… romantic. It’s stupid, I’m sorry.” you shake your head, dismissing the idea.
You knew you’d end up here with him eventually. You had no intention of losing your virginity to anyone else, after all. You’ve been in love with him for years, and finding out he got a girlfriend almost killed you. It was hard hearing about how they became intimate, but you were so fucking relieved when they broke up.
He only decided to get a girlfriend because he thought you weren’t interested in him, though. You’ve always been a forbidden fruit he wouldn’t dare try to cross a line with. You’re his best friend, after all. He wouldn’t want the romantic feelings he has towards you to ruin that.
“It’s not stupid.” he assures you. “Here, pick some music.” he hands you his phone.
You start to scroll and realise you’re looking on a playlist he created aptly named sex playlist. It makes you giggle, but you don’t comment. And you don’t pay him any mind as he leaves the room while you continue searching for a song.
The boy has good taste, you soon realise.
He comes back a few minutes later with some candles from a nearby cupboard. He knows you too well. You hoard them, you always have. You get an abundance each year for Christmas and rarely use them. He starts lighting them and placing them around the room.
You finally look up as he turns the light on, the room dimly lit by the burning flames scattered around.
“Is this better? I should have gotten some rose petals or something…”
“N-No, this is fine.” you smile, “Thank you, Rinnie, this is nice.”
He clears his throat and sits beside you on your bed. You quickly hand him his phone, prompting him to lean over to place it back down on your desk.
Your heartbeat begins to increase rapidly as he faces you. You haven’t even so much as kissed before, let alone what else will follow. He reaches out to caress your face, and it takes all of your willpower to not flinch.
“R-Rin… do you, um, d-do you watch…”
“Porn? Yeah. Do you?”
His reply makes your face flush with heat and the thought of confessing your own truth makes you even hotter. You look away from him, twiddling your fingers in your lap and looking at those instead.
“I know it won’t be like that… it’s your first time. And mine.” he reminds you.
He’s always been so mature. And you’re glad he’s doing all he can to put you at ease. He puts a finger under your chin, forcing you to look up at him again. You gulp, nervously, before nodding. He smirks at that.
“Good, I’m glad,” he tells you, beautiful jade eyes flickering with flames as he stares at you. “Means you know what you like.” he leans into you, an attempt to kiss which you immediately back away from. And you apologise, profusely, assuring him that you’re still a little nervous.
“I— I know guys can, you know, it can be quick… s-so don’t feel bad.”
“Don’t worry about that.” he shakes his head. “If I cum quickly, I’ll make sure you finish.”
He closes the distance between the two of you, his lips planting softly on your own. His eyes close as he loses himself to it, though you keep yours open for a little while as you process what is happening.
You’re making out with your best friend!
Though when his large, dominating hands begin to fondle your chest, you pull away entirely.
“Sorry, did I hurt you?” he wonders.
“N-No, I didn’t expect you to be so confident.” you whisper, and he kisses you again, smiling into it.
Your eyes close as you allow him to continue locking lips with you. His hand entirely gropes one of your tits and his thumb casually strokes over it. Even through the layers of your crop top and bra, you find yourself mewling softly.
He smooths his hand over the curve of your waist until he reaches the bottom of your crop top. His fingers breach upwards towards your bra, roughly groping at it and the fat of your tits.
“O-Ow.” you speak, softly.
“Sorry,” he whispers back, “Can I take your top off?” he asks between continuous kisses.
“Uh-huh.” you nod, dumbly.
He breaks the kiss to quickly pull your crop top over your head. His lips attach to yours again almost instantly as he starts to fiddle with your bra. He stops kissing you, again, to look over your shoulder so that he can undo the clasp. You gasp when he finally unhooks it, keeping the pink material against your chest to preserve your modesty.
“Can I see?” he asks, his eyes moving between yours and your hands. You hum, nervously, but nod. He helps you pull down your straps as you keep the material held firmly against your chest. Sighing, slightly panic in your voice as you strip the material away. “Fuuuuck…” he mutters to himself, adjusting his hardening cock in his pants as he looks at you.
“You should take something off.” you suggest before he can kiss you again. He immediately pulls his t-shirt over his head, tousling his hair back into place right after.
You continue to moan against his lips when he kisses you again. And they only get louder as he kisses down your neck whilst flicking his thumb over your pebbled nipple. He grunts against your skin, battling on whether he should say something to you or stay silent.
He’d hate to ruin the mood.
“Are you hard yet?” you ask him, your shy demeanour leaving you as you lose yourself to the sensation of his hands caressing your body. “S-Should we do it?”
“Wanna feel?” he asks, not waiting for an answer as he pulls your hand towards the bulge in his jeans, moaning immediately from the contact. “Look what you’ve done to me.” he laughs, pulling you closer and hooking one of your legs over his own.
He scratches the back of his nails up your thigh, stopping just short of dipping under your skirt as you shiver from the touch. His eyes find yours, kissing you reassuringly.
“Can I feel you?” he wonders, and, of course, you nod. His fingers disappear under your pleated skirt, quickly cupping your panty-clad mound. He barely gasps when he comes into contact with your panties. “You’re so wet…”
“S-Stop…” you reply, shyly, “s’embarrassing…” you tell him.
“You need to be wet for me,” he responds, that big, logical, brain of his immediately putting you in your place. Reminding you that he is the one with a little more experience and you need to listen to him. “You’ll be so tight… even for a finger.”
He forces your body down, flat against the bed and flips up your skirt. The cute triangular shape of your panties makes his cock throb, and he moves them into the crease of your thigh.
“Tell me if it hurts…” he requests, staring into your eyes as deft fingers come into contact with sopping flesh. He runs them through your folds, and you jolt when a finger tip grazes your clit. He moves it towards your hole, slowly teasing around it before pushing in. He stops, quickly, when you yelp. “Sorry, I’ll go slower. Hold onto me.” he instructs, a hand wraps around his bicep and squeezes as he continues to plunge his longer finger deep inside.
“Kiss me,” you whimper, pathetically. He drops his head so that your lips can meet again. He devours the moans and cries you emit as he curls his finger in and out of you. It feels odd, but not unpleasant. It’s still painful but it begins to subside.
“Gonna add another, okay?” he asks, and you nod. You hiss, instantly, hands flying down to pull his away. “Sh, sh sh, I’ll go slow again, okay? Gotta be able to take them or we can’t fuck.”
You fight back tears as the stretch begins to sting. He sinks his head lower, taking one of your hardened nipples into his mouth. Your back arches off the bed slightly, coaxing him to look up at you. And then he remembers all of articles he’s read. All of the research he’s done.
He even thinks about his teammates talking about sex.
“You have to worship the clit.” he recalls one of them saying.
He pulls away from your tit, briefly, to line his thumb up with your clit and apply pressure. He circles it carefully, monitoring your expressions as he does. You yelp, trying to close your legs, but he opens them back up with his free hand.
“Are you gonna cum?” he wonders.
“It’s too much, Rinnie!” you gasp, skin tightening over your knuckles until they turn white as you grip the sheets. “S-Slow down, please! S’too much!” you cry, unable to hold back your tears any longer.
He doesn’t relent, however. Hoping the way your body trembles means you’re about to cream all over his fingers. It was an achievement he never reached with his ex without her assistance. She showed him how and where to touch to make her cum. But you’re not her. You’re perfect.
You gasp, breathlessly, as your pussy begins to tighten around his fingers. Your clit throbs as he teases it just right and you begin to cum hard and fast for him. He kisses between the valley of your breaths, whispering sweet nothings as you reach your peak and plummet back down to earth. He slows down his ministrations as you begin to shudder and twitch from the after shocks, looking up at you adoringly when you start to calm down.
“Good?” he asks.
“Very,” you pant, laughing lightly as you find your sense again. “Rinnie…” you speak, your confident bravado disappearing again as you feel naked and exposed.
“Yeah?”
“Promise me… promise you’re a virgin, too…” you say, looking up at the ceiling. You feel too needy and desperate as you speak. But that was too good for him to not know what’s he’s doing. He’s seriously only done that once on another girl? It’s a little hard to believe.
“I promise. Was it really that good?” he smirks. He kisses both of your nipples softly before sucking his fingers clean of your juices. “I’ve been preparing… reading about stuff. Asking advice. I’ve told you everything I’ve done, I swear.”
He stands up, unbuttoning his jeans and kicking off his shoes at the same time. He pulls of his jeans and underwear in the same movement, revealing his large, blushing cock.
“We don’t have to do this.” he assures you, picking up a condom from your desk and tearing the foil with his teeth. He rolls it down his length, the rubbery sheen covers the pretty pink colour of his dick. “Do you want to stop?”
“Um,” you think about it. He’s asking as if he isn’t already raring to go. You look between his erection and his intimidating stare as you think about what to say.
“What about just the tip?” he asks. And at that, you nod. He reaches under your skirt and pulls down your panties to ogle your drippy cunt one more time. He feels himself throb at the thought of splitting your virgin hole open on his fat cock. He’s always known he was big, and he really doesn’t want to hurt you. He can only hope his fingering was enough prep before you rob each other of your innocence for good.
He lines up his cockhead with your virgin slot as he cages you in beneath his wide frame. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down to kiss you, your moan semi silenced as he pushes his tip in.
Oh God this isn’t enough.
He knew he’d need more.
Just a little more.
He pushes in a bit further, and you pull your lips away from his to voice your concern.
“H-Hurts,” you tell him. “You’re really big.” you inflate his ego further, earning another inch of his cock.
He can’t help it, you’re spurring him on!
And he can only imagine how much better you’d feel wrapped around him without this stupid fucking rubber on. He stops pushing when you place your palms on his shoulders, forcing him to pull back a little. “Is it the condom, Rin? Is it t-too dry?” you wonder, batting your eyelashes up at him so innocently.
“Yes.” he replies, without hesitation. “I’ll take it off.”
He pulls out of you instantly. He hisses a little as he pulls at the condom too hard and it snaps back. He decides to push it up from the base of his cock, lining up with your cunt again right after.
And it’s like you’re made for him as he pushes in. He smothers any whimper you can make with a searing kiss. You feel his tongue slip into your mouth as he pushes in further and further until there’s nothing left to give.
You’re crying, again, not expecting to feel so much so soon.
“God, you’re beautiful.” he praises you. He moves his hips, slowly. His cockhead unintentionally nudges against your soft spot with every rut. The blinding pleasure prevents you from telling him, once again, that it hurts and it’s too much. “I know I said just the tip, jus’ feel so good, princess.” he whispers delicately against your skin.
And, as expected, he doesn’t last long.
A few pathetic strokes of his cock inside of you have him spilling thick spurts of white cream into your unprotected walls. He collapses on top of you, panting violently as he stuffs you full.
He was so backed up before this. He masturbates, of course, but not as much as the average guy. You’ve had this planned for a few weeks, now, so he decided to abstain so he could really enjoy feeling you for the first time.
“Fuck, ‘m sorry. Should have jerked off before I came over.”
“It’s okay.” you tell him, fingers mussing through his hair as you come to terms with the fact that you’ve finally lost your virginity, to your best friend of all people.
“I need to fuck you again,” he confesses, your fingers stop as you look down at him.
“W- now?”
“Soon,” he corrects you. “I want to taste you first.”
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Text
Danny was livid.
The Guys In White had been following Phantom around constantly and while they weren't much of a threat, they were a massive nuisance. They had shot him down on Thursday and caused him to crash into some poor kids birthday cake in the park.
On Friday they had accidentally released ghost rats into the school.
On Saturday they had somehow managed to turn Paulinas hair ectoplasm green. She refused to leave her bedroom until it was reversed
On Sunday they tried to commandeer his parents GAV and earned the ire of his mom. They found out exactly why that was a bad idea.
On Monday they bardged into Danny's classroom, interrupting his math test because they were looking for a ghost parrot. It was mostly harmless but kept insulting them in a cheery tone. Danny decided he liked that bird.
We won't speak about what happened on Tuesday.
On Wednesday, he scowled at an agent that had accidentally blasted him and his friends with liquid ectoplasm while they were sitting and eating lunch. It was then that Danny began plotting his revenge.
That night he when ghost and lead the GIW on a while goose chase. Did danny take them across state lines? Yes. Did he manage to pull a massive following of these creeps? Also yes.
Did he plan for his target-the guy he had been leading them to- to already be in cuffs when he arrived in Gotham? No. Not at all.
"Hey, uh..." the words died on his tongue as Batman- The Batman- turned to him with narrowed eyes. Mustering his will, he started again, "Could you let him out? Just for a little bit?"
"No."
"Aw, Cmon!"
Condiment King began raving about something, but Danny didn't particularly care to pay attention. "If you're not going to let him out, then can you at least call the rest of the paw patrol? I wanna ask if they wanna throw mud at evil secret organization people. For enrichment." Danny gave his best, most cheeky smile for extra measure.
"Hn."
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