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#it almost made me forget what I was about to see..ALMOST.
luveline · 17 hours
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hello might i ask for sassy badass reckless reader who is the #1 leading cause of aaron's gray hairs pls 🤞🏻 he is SO exasperated with her like he is TIRED™ but also tweaking bcs he's horrendously down bad for her he's gna throw up
Good morning. I hope you slept well, honey. Can you come to work early, say 6.10AM? I’d like to see you and talk about something in person. 
You squint at the text that’s just come through. Another follows as you’re finishing, lighting the dark of your room.
I love you. Sorry, I know you don’t like when I forget to tell you in the mornings. 
Your own response is sent without propriety. I love you too handsome. 6.10 is not gonna work.
Can you make an effort for me? he asks. 
You do your very best. 
“It’s almost seven,” Hotch says when you finally get there that morning, his frown audible and plain to see. 
You hold up the bag of sugar donuts you’d purchased from the truck on the square just outside of Quantico’s endless parking lots. “Necessary delay.” 
“Unnecessary. I asked you nicely to come early and you’re barely on time,” he grumbles. 
How adorable. You put the bag of donuts on the desk and ignore the paperwork laid out waiting for you in favour of his side of the desk. He smells like cedar, his suit sleeve starched under your hand. You lean back against the lip of his desk and pretend you hadn’t been thinking about climbing into his lap —he’s formidable and lovely and that’s the best combination for lounging about atop someone, especially when that someone is very good at pressing you backwards, and better at kissing your neck. 
He knows what you’re thinking. “You’ve woken up in a mood,” he murmurs. 
“A good one,” you promise. 
You take his coffee and steal a sip. Hotch, resigned, lays a hand on your thigh. “I have important things to talk about, you know? I thought I made that clear this morning.” 
“You made a couple of things clear.” 
“Don’t say it like that.” 
“Like what?” 
“Like I…” He tilts his head to the side. “Like I’ve been sending you dirty texts or photos.” 
“Is that an option? I don’t think I’ve subscribed to those emails.” 
“You make me out to be this salacious lark–”
“Aaron, I don’t do anything of the sort.” You can hardly hold back a laugh. “I’m sorry I implied you were sexting me, okay? I wish you had been.” He sighs a long-suffering sigh as you carry on. “But you were very formal. I’ll be sure to tell HR the same thing.” 
His hand slips between your thighs. Nowhere it shouldn’t be, just trapped between soft flesh. “Don’t tell HR anything.” 
His coffee is lukewarm and unsweetened on your tongue. Would it kill your uptight love to add just a dash of cream and sugar? Wrinkling your nose, you set aside the mug and press your mildly heated hand to his cheek. Just quickly, brushing a thumb up to the skin below his eye before you let it fall. “Tell me what you wanted me to come in early for. And, for the record, I’m sorry for not trying to get here before, just I didn’t sleep well, and my neck hurt too much to rush.” 
He looks like he wants to ignore your apology. He doesn’t ask you for much, and showing up when he’d wanted you to would’ve been the kinder thing to do —he can be annoyed as both boss or boyfriend. 
But he doesn’t have it in him. 
“Why didn’t you sleep?” he asks softly. 
“Thinking too much about my nice boyfriend.” 
“Really?” 
You slouch a little. Cover his hand where it rests between your legs. “I don’t know. It was really hot, and my mattress is getting old, probably.” 
He ushers you down for a sympathetic kiss. He’s always so sorry to hear about your minor ailments, he must like you too much. 
You attempt to crawl into his lap, curling an arm behind his head. He, disgruntled and yet far from reluctant, lets you take a seat. 
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gay-dorito-dust · 1 day
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Hi, I just wanted to ask: If you end up writing something for the monsterfalls au do you think you could do something where reader helps to groom Ford or Stan's newly acquired wings and them just loving the attention and care they give them? Also, love your stories and thanks if you decide to do this.
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Stan, while thinking his new appearance was great for scaring kids on Summerween, hated his stone wings that weighed like a pair of cinder blocks.
They made sleeping difficult! How do you make sleeping difficult?! Apparently becoming a stone gargoyle.
That wasn’t even the worst thing either. Ford told him once after he complained about how his wings felt itched and irritated, almost like an itch he couldn’t scratch, that his wings needed constant preening whenever necessary as to avoid such situations from happening.
However Stan couldn’t exactly reach everywhere that needed preening and grew annoyed but his saviour arrived in the form of you.
‘Doll face! Just the person I’m looking for, would you mind helping me with my wings? They’ve been a pain in my ass this entire morning and I could really use some help in getting to the spots I can’t reach.’ He says as you examined his wings, strong and durable just like him, but oddly enough were soft like clay underneath; also just like him
‘I’d be happy to help Stanley but why me? You could’ve asked the kids or even Ford to help preen.’ You asked and Stan stiffened as he remembered the fact that Ford told him about preening; it was a mating thing to display the bond between mates amongst other reasons, which was mainly why he wanted you to preen his wings for him.
Stan scratched the back of his head. ‘Eh, none of them are in the house, doing their own thing or whether and even if they were they’d probably pull out the wrong feather.’ He quickly explains himself, hoping you’d buy it.
‘Okay, why don’t you lay down on your stomach and I’ll get to work.’ You replied after a brief moment of silence and Stanley sighed in relief as he was quick to flop on his bed, displaying his beautiful wings for you to gawk at.
Ford maybe a sphinx with pretty wings but you found Stanley’s wings even prettier, they looked as though they have priceless minerals within them, glistening beneath the light. They were a beauty to behold for those who actually cared to look at them and it never failed to take your breath away. ‘Beautiful.’ You murmured to yourself as you began to gently pull out the loose stone feathers that weighted like a pebble within your hand.
Stan felt like he could’ve fallen asleep then and there with how therapeutic he felt, he could feel his wings getting lighter with each loose feather you pulled, growling lowly in content as he closed his eyes and focused his mind on the way your hands carefully navigated his sturdy wings. He could’ve told you to be a bit rougher as they were like ordinary wings, but he throughly liked the way you treated them like they were glass and the way you run your fingertips in appreciation of them while counting the minerals within them, thinking he wouldn’t notice but he did and he couldn’t help but smile softly to himself.
He could happily stay like this forever if he could but he knew he couldn’t, so Stanley will take whatever time with you he could and keep it close to his heart to remind himself that someone does care about him and his stupid stone wings.
Ford took immense care of his wings but he often forgets that he has them when he’s deep in thought, which leads to him knocking stuff over, smacking Stanley, you or the kids accidentally with them and so on.
His wings were beautiful, majestic and fluffy, unlike Stanley’s which were the colour of gunmetal or cold stone or even gravel.
So whenever he forgets that his wings needed preening, he won’t know until you point it out to him, which is what you did.
‘Ford, did you forget to preen your wings?’ You asked as Ford looks over his shoulder and at his wings, where he could obviously see there was a few feathers that needed to be removed.
‘Ah so that’s why I’ve been in such discomfort as of recently, thank you my beloved for pointing it out. I shall preen them as soon as I’m done here.’ Ford replied but you pressed your hand onto his shoulder.
‘Why don’t you let me preen your wings for you?’
Ford blushed, he has read somewhere that pressing one’s wings was a thing only done between mates, or even that of a courting ritual amongst some bird species, but not only that but preening one’s wings was also seen as a means of survival and self care of one’s being. So the thought of the of you doing his wings for him had a whole lot more meaning to him as he would very much like you to preen his wings, but feared that he might make some…noises of enjoyment from your actions.
You saw his hesitance and said. ‘I’ll be gentle but then again it is all up to you as they are your wings, that and I don’t want to see you in discomfort or pain.’
Ford’s features softened as the blush died down. ‘Okay my dear I trust you with my wings.’
You smile as you sat yourself behind him and began to get to work in easing the loose feathers as carefully as you could, making sure you weren’t using more forced them necessary while praising Ford and his beautiful wings. ‘Your wings are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen, but then again they only reflect the person blessed with such wings.’ You then sweetly kissed where his wings connect to his back, a sensitive spot for Ford, causing the man to take a sharp breath as you do so before relaxing once more.
He was a little tense to start off with but gradually Ford felt himself melt under your carful touch and caresses as he purrs low in the back of his throat, tail slowly swishing in a display of his happiness and content regarding the current situation. He knew from that moment as you placed the loose feathers into a neat pile by your feet that he didn’t want anyone else to preen his wings but you.
Then again he was never in dispute with this idea of you preening his wings, he was just a bit awkward and unsure how to ask such a task of you without it coming across too strong, or that you didn’t have a choice but to agree to preening his wings. He just wanted to spend time with you and it just so happened that his wings were also in a state of disarray when you came in, all of which was completely unplanned and purely coincidental, but Ford couldn’t help but thank fate for this moment for he would treasure it forever and always.
‘You okay Ford? I think you’re…purring.’ You spoke with a smile upon your face when you felt his tail hit against your foot, finding it adorable as the purring coming from him.
‘Yes I’m perfectly fine my dear, perfectly fine.’ Ford reassured with a smile upon his face. ‘Perfectly fine indeed.’
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dreamwritesimagines · 17 hours
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Sunshine [4] - Ray of Light
AN: My loves, thank you so so much for your wonderful support and lovely comments and HCs! ❤️ You’re amazing! ❤️
I hope you like this as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! 🥰
Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female!Reader
Summary: A ray of light shines through the clouds.
Word Count: 4242 (to everyone who might be wondering why every chapter is turning 4k+... it's the martini I mean it baby)
CW: Smoking cigars, explicit language, mentions of sex
Series Masterlist
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Logan was no stranger to the feeling of restlessness.
For him, it was around every corner; impossible to get away from. Even now, having just returned from the latest mission Charles had sent him on, he couldn’t help but feel like a caged animal, desperate to get out.
He gritted his teeth, slamming the door open to enter his room before he unzipped his suit and took it off, tossing it to the corner of the room. After putting his jeans and white shirt on, he ran a hand through his hair and made his way downstairs to the kitchen. Scott and Jean were already there, perched on the stools while Storm sat on the kitchen island, busy with a file. Rogue was rummaging through the fridge and Bobby was making a sandwich on the counter, still in his suit.
“Do we still not have beer in this place?” Logan asked to no one in particular and Storm looked over her shoulder.
“This place hasn’t stopped being a school since the last time you asked, so no.”
“Great,” he murmured. “Soda it is.”
“It’ll be good for your health,” Rogue said with a grin, then tossed him a bottle which he caught mid-air. He extended his arm in Bobby’s direction without a word and Bobby touched the bottle, making it ice cold.
“Thanks,” he grumbled and pulled himself a seat.
“Why are you in a bad mood?” Storm asked with a curious look in her eyes. “The mission was a success.”
“Is it because that guy almost stabbed you?” Bobby asked, making him frown.
“He didn’t almost stab me,” Logan said as Rogue closed the fridge, nibbling on a slice of pizza.
“When people stab you, do you get annoyed?” Bobby asked and Logan raised his brows.
“More annoyed than right now? Nah, it’s about the same.”
“To repeat, why are you so—” Jean started but stopped talking mid-sentence, a smile pulling at her lips. “Ah. I see.”
“What?”
“We were supposed to come back from this mission around afternoon,” she said. “And it’s Monday.”
Shit.
“Jean, stay out of my head.”
Jean grinned at him. “Oh I’m not in your head. Don’t need to be.”
Scott looked between them. “Is this about Theo’s mom?”
The impact of the simple question was almost instant on the small crowd in the kitchen. Storm immediately put the file in her lap aside to look at him, Bobby stopped making his sandwich and looked up from the jar of peanut butter he had stuck the knife in, and Rogue’s jaw dropped.
Great.
“Wait, seriously?” Bobby asked. “You and her—”
“There’s nothing,” Logan cut him off, forcing himself not to let his thoughts drift to her. “Scott has no idea what he’s talking about as usual.”
“You’re just pissed off because you’ll have to wait until Friday to see her again.”
Logan scoffed. “That has nothing to do with the situation.”
“I think you two would make a cute couple,” Storm said and Jean nodded.
“Oh absolutely.”
“Stop it, both of you,” Logan said with a frown. “And for your information, I could see her whenever I want.”
“I don’t think they’d make a good couple to be honest,” Bobby interfered, “I mean don’t get me wrong but you’re…” he motioned at him, making Logan raise his brows. “You.”
“Nothing gets past your observation skills, does it?” Logan deadpanned while Rogue suppressed a laugh and took another bite of her pizza.
“Opposites attract is definitely a thing.”
Logan opened his mouth to retort, but was instantly distracted when he heard familiar footsteps coming closer to the kitchen, making him look over his shoulder. It wasn’t long until Theo appeared at the door in his pajamas, making Rogue let out an “aw!”.
“Hi Theo.”
“Hi Miss Rogue!” Theo gave them a happy smile. “And Mr. Logan and Miss Storm and Mr. Cyclops and Miss Jean and Mr. Ice Man!”
Even Logan had to admit, the kid was adorable. Theo pushed his glasses up, blinking up at them while holding a huge tin container to his chest as the small crowd in the kitchen greeted him back, making his smile bigger.
“Hi bub,” Logan said and Theo waved at him with one hand while still clutching to the tin with the other.
“What are you doing up at this hour Theo?” Storm asked and Theo looked down at the tin container, then up at them again.
“Um—” he said. “Do you know my friend Ralph?”
Bobby tilted his head. “The fish guy?”
“Yeah!” Theo nodded fervently before pushing his glasses up again. “So he told me his mom never baked him cookies, and—I didn’t know moms didn’t bake cookies because mine does whenever I feel bad, so I told my mom about that and um…yesterday she baked cookies for me to bring here,” he said, pressing his index finger on the tin as if to emphasize his point. “Everyone had one but you weren’t around, Professor X said you were busy, and I stayed up late so that you could have some cookies as well.”
She had baked cookies.
For the whole school.
Logan had to remind himself it was the middle of the night so he couldn’t in fact go all the way to her apartment to see her and kiss her and—
Focus.
He had to focus.
But for fuck’s sake, it was almost agonizing at this point. She was actually, genuinely nice, as if it wasn’t enough that he couldn’t stop thinking about how beautiful she was, how sweet she smelled, and just how much he wanted to—
Not going there, he forced himself to think. Focus.
Theo made his way to the kitchen island and stood up on his tiptoes to place the tin on the island, making Jean press a hand on her chest and Storm smile softly. Scott ruffled his hair, making him smile up at him.
“Thank you, Theo,” Jean said. “Please tell your mom we thank her as well.”
“Of course!” Theo said, his voice cheerful. “Good night!”
“Good night bub.”
“Good night Theo!”
“I’m so going to babysit when you two get together,” Rogue said through her teeth as if she was hanging by a thread while Bobby rushed to the container to open it the moment Theo left the kitchen. “I swear to God, Logan—”
“No, I agree with Bobby,” Scott said. “She’s too nice for him.”
Bobby pointed at Scott with the cookie he was holding while Logan flipped him and Storm grabbed two cookies, tossed one to Rogue and turned to Jean.
“I’ll fill Charles in about the mission, are you coming?”
“Sure,” she said and grabbed a cookie as well. “I’ll see you guys later.”
With that they both walked out of the kitchen, Storm talking about what an adorable kid Theo was before Bobby popped the cookie into his mouth, then let out a moan.
“Jesus this is too good!” he said. “No I’m serious Logan, she’s like actually pretty and nice and bakes cookies. When was the last time you did anything nice for us?”
“I saved your life like half an hour ago, dipshit,” Logan pointed out, making Rogue laugh. “And every word out of your mouth makes me think I should’ve sat that one out.”
Scott chuckled and took out a cookie out of the container, then nodded at Logan.
“Do you want to have one or do you want to go ring shopping—” he started but he was cut off when one of Bobby’s friends, Caleb, if Logan wasn’t mistaken, entered the kitchen.
“Storm said there were cookies?”
“Over there.” Bobby motioned at the kitchen island. “Theo’s mom made them.”
“Oh she's such a babe,” Caleb said as he reached out for the container, making Logan turn to him while Rogue made a face. “The things I’d do, seriously, the milf of my—”
He didn’t get to finish his sentence when Logan grabbed his arm and slammed it to the counter while Rogue exclaimed “Ew, Caleb!” and Scott tilted his head.
“Logan,” he said, his voice completely calm. “We’re not slamming students to flat surfaces.”
Logan gritted his teeth, glaring at Caleb whose heartbeat got much faster, the unmistakable scent of fear lingering in the air.
“Caleb, right?” he growled. “Listen Caleb, the next time I hear you talk about her, or even look at her in any way,” He unsheathed his claws, causing Caleb to let out a whine. “I will rip your fucking tongue out. Do you understand?”
Caleb nodded fervently again and Logan clenched his jaw, then pulled his hand back and Bobby grabbed Caleb by his shirt.
“It’s his first time in public, that’s why he is like this,” he said helpfully, dragging him out of the kitchen. “You fucking dumbass….”
“Sure,” Scott said after a beat, turning to Logan. “There’s nothing going on between you and her.”
Logan sipped his soda. “Shut up.”
Scott held up his hands, mocking surrender.
“Just something to think about,” he said with a smirk. “I’m gonna go find Jean. Good night.”
“And I’m gonna find Bobby and smack Caleb,” Rogue said, pushing herself off the counter. “Good night Logan.”
“Good night kid,” Logan said as they both left the kitchen and he narrowed his eyes at the container on the kitchen island before making his way to it. He grabbed a cookie to bite into it, his eyes closing as the sweetness crumbled inside his mouth, making him let out a breath.
A scene flashed before his eyes, something out of a dream; him in a cabin in the woods with her in his arms. He buried his nose into her neck, inhaling her sweet scent into his lungs as he pressed her warm body against his, her heartbeat getting faster before he forced himself to open his eyes again, taking a deep breath.
“Keep it together,” he muttered to himself and popped the rest of the cookie into his mouth, then pushed himself off the counter and made his way upstairs.
                                         *
Throughout the week, it was one mission after the other. He was beginning to think Charles was doing it on purpose, and when Friday finally arrived, as much as he hated to admit, he could barely focus on anything else.
“Come on, to the lake!” one of the boys said as he walked past them. “Ralph, where’s Theo?”
“Professor X wanted to see him, and I think he left already,” he heard the boy say. “Ugh, I was gonna show him this new fish in the lake! It’s huge!”
 Left?
No, he was still around. Logan could hear his happy chatter with someone through the chatter of the crowd but her scent wasn’t anywhere near so he followed Theo’s voice downstairs, stepping out of the building before—
“Have a nice weekend Mr. Logan!”
Logan’s head whipped around as Theo waved at him, then looked up to the man beside him as he took off his backpack so that the man could take it from him. “Uncle Jamie, this is Mr. Logan!”
What the fuck?
“Who the hell are you?” Logan asked the brunette, making him frown at the apparent hostility in his voice, but he didn’t dwell on it.
“Hello,” he said. “I’m Jamie. I’m picking up the little guy today.”
“No you’re not,” Logan scoffed. “Do we even know who you are?”
“You don’t, but the school does,” Jamie said after a beat. “I appreciate the caution but his mother called Professor Xavier beforehand to let him know, so it’s okay.”
“Uncle Jamie, Mr. Logan helped mommy out with the car when it broke down, and he drove her home the other day, I heard mommy talk about it with auntie Julie!”
Jamie tilted his head, his eyes narrowing. “…How helpful of him.”
“And Uncle Jamie is the hero who saved me when I was in mommy’s belly, Mr. Logan!” Theo introduced him, making Logan raise his brows.
“Is that right?”
“I was an intern, Theo was a premature birth.”
 “And you do years long follow up with all your patients or is this one a special case?” Logan asked as a dry smile twitched Jamie’s mouth before he clicked his tongue.
“It is,” he said. “I could ask you the same question though. Do you drive every parent home, or is this one a special case?”
Okay no, he did not like this prick.
However, Theo was right there so he had to mind his language, for his sake.
“You know what Theo, I’m pretty sure I just heard your friends say they were going to the lake,” Logan said, making Theo’s eyes widen. “They were talking about this huge fish. Do you want to go with Uncle Jamie or do you want to stick around a little to see that fish?”  
“Really?!”
“Go ahead,” Logan said. “Uncle Jamie will wait. Won’t you, bub?”
Theo didn’t even wait for Jamie’s answer as he darted for the yard, and Jamie gritted his teeth, shaking his head slightly.
“Unbelievable…” he muttered. “Are you even a teacher here?”
“Sometimes,” Logan said with a shrug of his shoulders and Jamie hummed, then took out his phone and touched the screen before taking it to his ear, waiting for the other line to pick up.
“Hi Jamie!”
It was almost funny, how her soft voice managed to put Logan in a better mood instantly but he tried not to think about it.
“Hi sunshine,” Jamie said, making Logan frown. “Listen, Theo wants to hang out with his friends a little more. Should I wait or…?”
“No no, you go back to the hospital,” she said. “I’ll leave in like an hour or so anyway. It’s a good thing that he’s socializing so um—just, let him.”
“You sure?”
“Oh yeah,” she said. “Thank you again Jamie, really.”
“No problem honey.”
“You can follow the way back,” Logan said, nodding in the direction of the gates when Jamie hung up and he heaved a sigh.
“I know your type, you know?”
“I doubt it.”
“No no, I do,” Jamie said, motioning at him. “This whole tough guy bullshit isn’t gonna impress her.”
A cocky smirk curled his lips. “What, are you threatened?”
Jamie scoffed a laugh.
“That’s not what this is,” he said. “It’s just that I’ve known you for five minutes and I can already tell she deserves better than you.”
That—
That was true actually. Even Logan knew that; hell, he had been trying to make himself understand that ever since he had met her, but no matter how much he tried, he just couldn’t.
Knowing it wasn’t enough to make him stop thinking about her.
“Guess you and I have one thing in common then,” Logan stated. “But I seem to be making better progress in a month than you have in years, huh?”
Jamie shook his head.
“See you around,” he said before he walked away and Logan took a deep breath, then ran a hand through his hair.
“Asshole…” he muttered and made his way through the yard to keep an eye on Theo in case he got too close to the lake.
                                       *
The strange thing wasn’t that he smelled her the minute she arrived.
It was what her scent did to him.
As soon as the familiar sweetness tickled his nostrils, his head snapped up and he looked around, then got up from the bench he was sitting on, painfully aware of his heartbeat getting faster. He strode through the yard, away from where Theo and his friends were running around and towards the gates, where her scent was stronger.
He couldn’t help but notice she didn’t smell like him.
Jamie.
He had no idea why he was getting so worked up on the existence of that asshole, but somehow that detail alone managed to soothe the hot jealousy running through his veins. He knew Jamie had a point, he had been saying the same thing to himself ever since he met her, yet it didn’t mean…
There she was.
He didn’t know how she managed to look everyone and everything else in shadows where she herself was the only thing illuminated as if she had her own ray of sunlight falling over her. The mere sight of her was enough to make him stare at her as she waved at him, her heart pacing in her chest as soon as her eyes fell on him, the pleasant sound nearly deafening in his ears—
No.
He had to focus.
Logan had seen wild animals in captivity before. How they would be straining at their leash, how they would be slamming against their cage, nearly blind with the desire to be let loose and lately, whenever she was around, she had the same effect on him.
“Hey stranger!” she said with a bright smile as she reached him. “Are you okay? You seem…tense.”
Shit.
“Me?” Logan asked. “Nah. Hi.”
Good string of sentences there.
“Hi,” she said, looking up at him. “Look at that, you’re here.”
Logan pulled his brows together. “I live here.”
“No no, I meant—” her heart skipped a beat, her eyes widening at the misunderstanding. “Right, of course you do. It’s just that, when I dropped Theo off on Monday you weren’t here, not that I noticed—disclaimer, I definitely did notice in case it has escaped your notice—but you know, I figured you were busy, and then Theo said…”
Alright, why did he find this cute?
Since when did he find things cute?
“And he must’ve seen someone’s suit or something because now he wants one, and I told him he can have one for Halloween but guess who didn’t think that through, because now I’ll have to tell Julie, she’s the arts and crafts person to go to in a situation like this. I’m just going to bribe her with cookies which is everyone’s favorite payment method I feel like …”
Don’t kiss her.
Do not kiss her.
A part of him wanted to go check with Charles to make sure he wasn’t fucking with his mind, to make sure she wasn’t a figment of his imagination because this wasn’t normal. Having her within his reach, all he could think about was pulling her closer, kissing her and taking her to his bed upstairs, to taste her until the only thing left in her mind was his name, her body trembling, her soft voice hoarse while she begged for—
“And I’ll stop talking now because you’re giving me that look again, do I have something on my face?”
Fuck.
She was looking up at him with a small frown pinching her brows together so he shook his head and said the first thing he could come up with:
“I tried the cookies.”
…Yeah no, Charles had to be fucking with his mind to make him this tongue tied.
“Did you?”
“Yeah.”
“Did you like it?” she asked, her heartbeat getting faster like she was nervous to hear the answer and Logan nodded his head.
“It was amazing,” he said, making her let out a breath, a happy light shining in her eyes.
“Really?”
“I’m serious,” Logan said, “The best cookie I’ve ever had in my life.”
“Aw, that’s wonderful!” she said, smiling wide. “I don’t think I’ve met anyone who doesn’t like chocolate chip cookies, so when Theo mentioned his friend I figured— do you know where he is by the way?”
He jerked his thumb over his shoulder.
“By the lake with his friends,” he said. “Come on, I’ll take you.”
“Finally in the welcoming tour committee huh?” she joked as she started walking beside him and he chuckled.
“Only for you.”
“Much appreciated,” she said. “I was gonna come earlier actually but there was this thing at work, it was a disaster.”
“What happened?”
“Well, the grill stopped working around the lunch hour,” she said. “They fixed it but waiting for food makes people very grumpy. There was this one customer, he…” she made a face, making him frown.
“What?”
“He was in a very bad mood but thankfully he calmed down when I gave him ice tea on the house.”
Logan shook his head slightly. “You should stop being so nice to people, princess.”
That seemed to make her heart skip a beat, causing a small smile to curl his lips while her hand shot up to her mouth for her to bite at her nail.
“In my defense, that’s not being nice, that’s just being in the service industry,” she mumbled. “Good thing it was fixed fast though.”
Logan hummed.
“So…” he trailed off. “Uncle Jamie then?”
“Oh, you’ve met him?”
“I was around,” Logan lied through his teeth. “When he came here.”
“Yeah, Theo adores him,” she said, nodding her head. “Jamie saved his life when he was an intern—fun fact, some doctors don’t take you seriously when you’re pregnant at 18 and completely clueless, so I knew something was wrong but he was the only one who believed me. He got chewed out by his supervisor but he ended up saving Theo’s life.”
Logan frowned, distracted from the Jamie issue for a moment.
“His father wasn’t there?”
“Nope,” she said with a bitter smile. “He was uh…busy.”
What the fuck?
“Do you know where he is now?” Logan asked, anger shooting through him and she let out a laugh.
 “He’s in the past,” she said. “And he should stay there.”
 He wanted to insist, he really did. The guy sounded like the type of asshole who really needed to get his ass beaten, but before he could ask, she had already changed the subject.
“But yeah, Jamie is amazing,” she said. “He’s very protective, he’s like the brother I never had.”
He bit back the pleased smile threatening to pull at his lips at the second part of that sentence and hummed.
“Yeah?” he said. “Does he know that?”
“Hm?”
“That he’s the brother you never had?”
She blinked up at him in confusion, her brows pinching together before a look of realization downed on her beautiful face, her heartbeat getting faster.
“He does,” she said, nodding her head. “So does his boyfriend.”
…Ah.
He had misunderstood the situation.
That had to be what Jamie meant when he had said “That’s not what this is,” he wasn’t trying to get with her, he was genuinely cautious about strangers such as himself. That whole exchange made sense now, considering the story about him saving Theo’s life; he had met her when she was alone, and had been trying to keep her and Theo safe ever since.
Of course.
“And he’s in a very happy relationship with him,” she added. “Unlike—you know, unlike me who’s not in a relationship at all, totally single. Not that you asked but it’s like…it’s like general trivia about me, and—whoa, today is a hot day isn’t it? Because honestly, it wasn’t this hot when I left the car—”
“Mom!”
“Oh thank God,” she muttered as she turned her head to look at Theo who was running at full speed to them and Logan bit back his grin as Theo reached them and flung himself into her arms.
“I missed you bean!” she said, hugging him tight and kissing the top of his hair. “Did you have fun?”
“Yeah!” Theo said, his glasses slipping as he nodded fervently and she pushed them up again with a fond look on her face. The sight sent a warmth through Logan’s chest, a smile he didn’t even notice curling his lips. “We saw a big fish!”
“Really?” she gasped, her whole attention on him, hanging onto every word he said. “How big was it?”
“This big!” Theo spread his arms as wide as he could, making her smile widen.
“Whoa, that sounds big!” she said. “What color was it?”
She was too good at this. Even an outsider could see how excited Theo was to tell her everything, how genuinely happy he was to have her there and how attentive she was with him.
“Gray,” Theo answered. “Mom, maybe it’ll grow up to be a shark!”
Logan tilted his head and she exchanged glances with him as if telling him not to tell Theo it would not in fact grow up to be a shark, and Logan winked at her, making her giggle.
“Maybe,” she said, turning to Theo. “Ready to go?”
“Yeah,” Theo said and she fixed his shirt, then took his backpack from him to swing it over her shoulder.
“Say goodbye to Logan.”
“Goodbye Mr. Logan!”
Logan ruffled his hair. “Have a great weekend bub.”
“I’ll see you around?” she asked and Logan couldn’t help but stare at her beautiful face before reminding himself to pull himself together.
“Yeah,” he said, trying to focus. “Don’t be too nice to people until then.”
Her smile widened and she heaved a sigh, shrugging her shoulders nonchalantly.
“Don’t be too mean to people until then,” she replied and took Theo’s hand, walking away with him. He could hear her asking what else he had seen in the lake and Theo listing every single fish he had seen so he watched them until they were out of his line of sight, then let out a breath.
“Fuck…” he muttered, frowning to himself. “She’s beautiful, got it. Get your shit together.”
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catyo90 · 2 days
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I already lost you once...
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Warning: Logan x F!Reader (Smut) Minors DNI)
In your universe, your Logan was taken from you, not his life, but his memories. He was made to forget who you were by Stryker, one bullet was all it look for him to forget everything about you. And you were tortured every night and day by it. The moment you tried to fix it, to get the life you had with him back for good. The TVA erased you. Took your home, friends, family and lover away with no way of getting out.
That was years ago. You wondered through the void all alone, sometimes running into variants. In that time you never stopped trying to get back to him, that was until you found out your Logan was long since dead, when you met Laura, she was from the same universe as you. She told you everything and offered you to join her and a small band of others to survive in this cruel world.
What choice did you have, little did you know that one day. You would get your chance to see him again.
-
You woke up grabbing your long black cloak with a matched pair of dark green tube top and army pants, you looked at yourself in the broken mirror, the cold dogs tags you held onto for a moment before leaving. You walked out over hearing Gambit speaking to someone about drinking his whiskey. You sighed as you stood in the doorway, you froze in place as you saw a Deadpool variant looking over to you with curiosity.
"Whoa, and who is this fem fetal who looks like a early 2000s spice girl, which one are you? Oh oh let me guess, Foxy Spice, no wait that doesn't work, oh.." His voice faded as you looked past him, after so long you almost couldn't believe it.
"Logan...?"
His eyes widened a bit as he turned around, and he looked like he had seen a ghost, hell in his world you were, along with everyone else. Everyone was silent, even Deadpool was for once was quiet as he had both hands on his face realizing the look you both shared as you walked up to Logan.
"Y/n..."
You looked into his eyes and saw in them nothing but pain and anguish. The sight of you being alive and well was almost too much for him. And the sound of your name coming off his lips made you shiver. it had been so long since you heard your name said like that.
'I'm a little surprised you know me..." He stepped a little closer as you spoke seeing the same dog tags he wore in his early years. He never would give those away lightly. He knew what you meant to him in your universe. You looked over your shoulder at the others and whispered to Logan.
"We will speak later..." you looked up at him as he nodded in agreement. But before you stepped away you felt him grab your wrist for a moment, you saw his fingers wrap around to touch your pulse. He just needed to know you were actually here and alive and not a damn illusion or hallucination. He let your wrist go as you walked over to Gambit and spoke with him for a moment. Wade snuck in and whispered to Logan.
"If you were waiting for the opportune time to finally get some action in the last 200 years of your life...that was it."
"Will you shut the hell up?!"
"Never. For I am Marvel Jesus and my words are holy."
Logan rolled his eyes as he took another bottle of whiskey as he listened to the made up plan Wade made half assed. As he leaned against the wall chugging down the bottle his eyes couldn't help but wonder to you, and neither could you. Both your glances would met causing you to blush and him to smirk to himself knowing all too well the effect he was having on you.
-
After the plan was formed and the sun was beginning to set, Blade and gambit decided to have a few drinks together as Elektra was sharpening her twin blades as she watched Laura practicing on the dummies with her own blades. You on the other hand were looking around for Logan, you closed your eyes using your seismic sense, you could see the vibrations in everyone movements and could differ who was who from the the difference is each one, not even Wade was able to surprise you as he popped out form behind leaning a arm against the doorway.
"You looking for a certain beast."
"More like I already found him. Wade. Can I ask you a question about him?"
"Yes, he likes the rough play."
"How do you...never mind..."
'Oh come now child, all confessions to the Marvel Jesus shall be heard."
"Why is he with you?"
Wade was silent as he looked around like he could get stabbed any moment. He moved you into the hall and spoke carefully.
"In his world he's the fucking worst, like everyone died, but now he's here trying to fix it with me cause I made an educated wish. He knows how to save people. And we need him."
"An educated wish?"
"yeah yeah I know. but listen... he spoke of you, and how the last thing he saw that made him loss all hope was seeing you dead in his arms. In my world he was the definition of a hero, and now...we are gonna fucking fix everything."
You sighed. You sensed this Logan was different, but to know you had died in his world. You looked up at Wade and smiled.
"In my world, he died long ago, but Laura told me everything that happened, how he lost so much, the pain of losing all those he loved. Rose, Kayla, Jean, Atsuko, But no matter what, he kept fighting. Every time he uses those claws he feels physical pain, but every night he is haunted by nightmares. I'm sure this Logan faced many pains like mine. But his eyes were the same. The same eyes I fell in love with."
"Jeez, you sound like a poet now, well why don't you go find him and give him a ballad he will never forget."
"I think he got enough fun time with you in that car, from what Laura says, there was clearly some fun times going on there."
"I never kiss and tell honey." Wade said as heard a whistle seeing Gambit motioning him over for a drink. You smirked as Blade groaned as Wade walked up to them saying how he was gonna show them a good time. Whatever inuendo he meant by that.
You looked outside and saw at the campfire near the car, both Logan and Laura were speaking to each other, you smiled at the sight as you walked over and saw Laura look at you and smiled as she placed a hand on Logan's shoulder. He looked at her and nodded to her as he looked back at the fire in front of him. You flipped your cloak over the log and sat beside him as he offered you the bottle of whiskey for a sip but you declined.
"Not a hard liquor kind of girl."
He smirked as he remembered, it had been so long since he had spoken to you, to see you again after so long. It was almost unnerving for him, but he still was for once is his miserable long life, glad to see you again.
"You wanted to talk earlier. I'm gonna assume you have questions?" He said as he threw the empty bottle toward the fire.
"I only wanted to ask how you knew me in your world, but Wade seems to have painted a uneasy but clear picture for me."
Logan gave a sharp eyed glance at Wade as he groaned in annoyance. He looked at you and glanced down at the dog tags you wore around your neck.
"I gave those to you, I mean I personally didn't but your version...fuck you know what I talking about right?"
"it's alright Logan, from what I can tell you and me were both together in both universes, but fate decided, we didn't belong."
"Fate has nothing to do with it."
"You don't believe in it?"
"No I don't, my version of you died and your version of me died. We got the short end of the stick but look at both of us now. No one gets the chance to see their loved ones again...this is all because of that asshole." He smirked pointing over his shoulder to Wade.
"Better not let him hear you, he'll never stop talking about it then."
You both chuckled at the horrifying thought, it had been a long time since you laughed, hell since you felt any joy at all. After all this time you were finally given the chance to see him again, to hear his voice. You looked at him and brought a hand up to his.
"Can I hold your hand?"
He said nothing as he held out his hand as you took off the gloves he was wearing and held your hand in his. The everlasting scars on his hands from his claws slightly showed, even with a healing factor as great as his you come see them. His hand warm to the touch and slightly rough, no doubt from all the fighting and hard labor he did in the past. You closed your eyes as your seismic sense could feel the metal underneath, it was there you could see all the wounds he took, his adamantium skeleton though healed to others, you saw micro fractures everywhere. Every break and every cut he suffered. Clear as day.
You had your hand roam up his muscular arm causing you to blush a little as you saw a familiar break in his bone. It matched exactly to how your Logan got it.
"This was from Sabertooth. Your brother. He came after you one night and had me by the throat trying to hold leverage over you. You fought him and in-between all the cuts and gashes, he managed to break your arm....and that when I used my powers on him. And in so doing...I hurt you as well.
You remembered how your seismic sense caused the metal bones in his body to vibrate and caused pain for him as each bone hit the other. You were still trying to control your powers at this point, but you remembered feeling awful after Sabertooth fled.
Logan looked at you and saw the matching scar along your neck. The same one his version had.
"I remember that night...but if I recall, or at least with my version of you. The night had a lot of exercise and no sleep."
You looked at him and laughed to yourself. He wasn't wrong
"Yeah it was...sorry this is just so...surreal." you said letting go of his hand but he still left the gloves off. You smirked at him as you took off your cloak, the heat from the fire was making you warm. Or at least you thought in that moment. You looked over at the others and saw they were retiring for the night. Wade of course gave you a wink as he blew a kiss to Logan as he helped a very drunk Gambit into the base. Both sights causing you to laugh to yourself. Logan looked at you with small smile.
You smirked as you looked at him once more this time give him a curious look.
"So...I have to ask. Am I...anything like your version. I'm sure we had some differences but I am curious."
He said nothing as he looked at you bring a hand to move a loose stand away from your face as he spoke.
"No matter what universe...your perfect."
You blushed hard as watched him move his hand away for a moment. He fingers flexed with want, he knew it had been...well forever since he felt any affection. But this ...this was different.
"I suppose we should get some rest, after all, it will be a long fight." You said standing up for a moment before looking at him.
But Logan didn't move, something you sensed in him was causing him to stay put as he looked at the fire and then turned to you. You saw him look away from you for a moment, you sat back down and leaned your head closer to him.
"Are you alri-" your words were cut off when you felt his hand grab a hold of your chin and his lips met yours. A thousand sparks seem to go on at once, your eyes closed as you wrapped your arms around his neck instinctively. It had been so long...so long since you had been kissed by him. You felt his other hand grip the back of your head becoming lost in your hair. You felt a small twinge of pain on yours lips as you knew they would be sore if it continued. He stopped himself catching his breath as he opened his eyes to look at you with a small bit of regret in his eyes.
"Logan..."
"I can't. It feels wrong. Like we are cheating...on each other."
You looked away for a moment. He wasn't entirely wrong. But you when you looked up at him you knew that what you were feeling was only for him. You sighed as you brought both hands to either side of his face making his breathing heighten as well as his want that you could in-between both of you.
"Logan, I love you. No matter what universe, no matter what version of us. I know across the entire multiverse. I only love you. No other." You gave a kind smile as you kissed his cheeks and then brought the kids to his lips as you brought your arms around his neck.
The defense in his body shattered in that instance. His arms wrapped around you tightly as he kissed you back harder and rougher. Even a small growl escaped his throat. Every kiss he gave felt divine as he paused for a moment looking around. You were about to inquire but before you could he grabbed you hand and led you away from fire, leading you into the woods. He stopped when he couldn't hear or smell the others and turned to look at you.
"Did we have to go so far?"
"I'm not letting that walking pain in the ass interrupt us." He said as he pulled you against his body. But still giving you a chance to turn him down.
You smirked as you grabbed a hold of his x men uniform with both hands, pulling him in close to you and kissed him. For a few moments, Logan didn't react. He felt himself quickly start to feel faint. This wasn't what he had expected you to do, but it certainly wasn't unwelcome.
His thoughts wondered to how long he had wanted this. It felt like eons since he felt this way for anyone. After everything that happened to him, he barely dared to hope. But now, with the feeling of your soft lips on his... they were so soft. His mind couldn't help too imagine how that luscious mouth of yours would feel elsewhere. He would give anything to know. Every moment your lips met his, you sensed his whole body tensing up. You expected him to quickly push you away and perhaps admonish the both of you for going too far. You then felt him move. You broke the kiss and started to let go of his suit, when to your surprise, you felt him wrap his arms around you and pull you in tightly, bringing your mouth back up to his for more.
He kissed you deeply, his lips quickly parted yours, giving you one passionate kiss after another. Despite the roughness of his skin, the ever so slight growth of facial hair brushing against your own, his lips were surprisingly soft even given his outer appearance and gruff personality.
Though the two of you should have been quiet, you soon found yourselves moaning softly into each other's mouths. Feeling a bit faint, you wrapped your arms around his neck for support as you felt you were starting to lose strength in your legs. He in turn held you closer to him, though it wasn't enough for him. The woods started to become filled with the sounds of deep breaths and lips parting and meeting again.
Before you knew it, you felt a nearby tree hit your back. With his mouth still on yours, he pushed himself up against you. He reached down, took your left leg and placed it around his waist. Causing you to moan in loud volume but you couldn't care.
With your arms still around his neck, he soon had you pinned to the tree looking down at you with lust filled eyes. The both of you should have been listening for any rogue variants or maybe any other unknown dangers but the only sounds that filled your ears were the erotic sounds that the two of you were making together
With you hanging onto him for dear life, his hands were free to do as he saw fit. One was busy holding your leg up, the other was braced against the tree.. His thoughts wandered to the string cords on your clothes. They wandered further, imagining what garments might be underneath.
He brought his hand down against your back kissing you even harder and rougher
You wouldn't have noticed if you had not suddenly felt the sweet sensation of his leather gloved hand starting to caress your tender neck.
"Fuck..." He said. You whimpered lightly as you felt him glide his fingers along your skin. All the times you had imagined him caressing you came to the forefront, making you forget everything else.
While keeping one arm around his neck, you took his hand in yours. He started to wonderif it was too much. That concern soon vanished the moment he felt you place his hand on your breast.
“Keep going.”
Logan let his hand wander up and down. Your own free hand wandered over his chest, over the hero suit and even the thin clothes that he wore underneath. Reaching further down to his waist, your fingers found his belt, which you attempted to do with one hand, but no luck.
Still your want to please him grew as you brought your hand back down to his waist. You couldn't get the belt loose, but you definitely could manage to get your hand inside his trousers. He moaned louder than ever before as he felt your hand venture down his navel and towards his very hard cock. The closer you got, the more his breath shortened. He was beyond eager to feel you take him in your hand.
The moment he felt you grasp him, he broke the kiss, gasping deeply as he felt your soft hand move up and down the length of him. It had been so long since someone had pleasured him like this, he almost came undone right there and then.
He buried his face in your neck, kissing you up, down and across, becoming more and more aroused hearing you moan just for him. His breathed deepened as he felt you continue to work his length in such a pleasurable way.
Logan was doing his best to center his thoughts, but with you pinned between him and the tree, it was all but impossible. He grabbed your waist and pulled you closer. As you looked up at him you realized how his gaze was focused on your face. He eyes filled with what looked to be lust and sorrow. He kissed you deeply, slipping his tongue into your mouth as his thumb stroked your cheek. He pulled away after a moment and looked at you with eyes full of adoration. “I missed you, Y/N.” he whispered before pulling you into another kiss.
You knew what he meant, you both had missed this feeling after so long. It was the one good thing you both felt in many years. In this moment being different versions didn't matter.
You reached your hands to his belt and undid it quickly looking him deep in the eyes. as you wrapped your palm around his now hard member. You squeezed and jerked on him while kissing him with tongue.
Logan growled into the kiss as you started to jerk him off. Every few seconds he would purr before returning to kiss your lips. He missed you so much that just a bit of your touch made him rock hard.
You gently pushed him down onto the ground, trying to be careful to not hurt him. The soft grass giving you both some comfort and the cool air making both of you feel a rush of excitement. You tugged his pants down and pumped his shaft few times before taking him in your mouth.
Logan gasped and looked down on you. “Fuck, Y/N.” He moaned quietly before moving his hand into your hair to gain some of the control over your movement. He bucked his hips to push himself deeper into your throat, he was desperate for any feeling.
You pulled him out of your mouth to lick the vein along the side. You sucked the tip before sucking it back into you mouth and bobbing head quickly back and forth making a popping noise as you catch your breath. Your free hand gripped at his other hand causing you to intertwine each other hands as you deep-throated him.
“Fuck.” He gasped and rolled his head back into the lush grass. You felt him grab your hair and your head down closer, pushing his cock as deep as possible. He emptied himself into your throat and sighed loudly. “I forgot how much I missed the feel of your mouth around me.” He teased you.
“Logan” you said as you slipped out of your pants and panties and straddled his bearded face. “If you’ll be a good boy, you’ll get the grand prize,” you informed.
Logan growled lowly as he removed the rest of his suit. You smiled as he wrapped his arms around your hips, pulling you down to place gently kisses on your clit and lips. First, he played with you by sucking your lips gently before pushing just the tip of his tongue past your lips. Soon he started to eat you at like a hungry beast.
“Oh...fuck. Logan ahhhh.,” your head rolled back as the pleasure was already unbearable. You'd wanted this after so long. You craved him and his touch, he was spinning your head round. You bucked your hips quickly trying to get more friction while you reached your hand back to jerk over his yet hard again member.
Just when you thought the pleasure was at its peak you suddenly felt him pressing his face to your heat, pushing his tongue deeper into you. One of his hand moved from your hip to your entrance. You saw as he looked up at you before he started pushing two fingers into you. Now he was eating you out while fingering you.
“Fuck oh my god,” you grunted feeling your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you continued to try your best jerking harder at his cock. Soon, you got felt a wave of euphoria as you came on his face. He adjusted so he could lean upward as he brought you down to kiss his lips, you tasted your wetness on them. He wrapped his arms around you causing you to straddle his lap as he guided his cock right to your entrance, he looked at you once more before the pleasurable pain you felt causing you both to moan as his cock entered, he growled.
"Fucking hell, you pussy is sucking me in so hard."
He smiled and gladly kissed you as he started to buck his hips into you while gripping hard onto one of your breasts. You knew in the morning there would be marks, he started kissing and biting your neck as his fingers played with your hardened nipple as he slammed into even harder.
Your entrance convulsed when his cock twitched against it. It was needy for anything, gaping and closing on repeat. He chuckled as he felt it.
“Just like that Logan...fuck...ah...make me cum...around your sweet cock,” you moaned into his ear as your nails dug into his shoulders causing red marks to appear making him growl in both pain and pleasure as he moved his lips away before biting at your lips and kissing you even harder than before. You bucked your hips for him as well, his cock was spreading your inner walls more and more with every thrust.
Logan purred as his hand traveled to your clit to rub gently circles there. His thrusts became deeper and faster. You cried out when you engulfed all of him and his face snuggled into the crook of your neck to bring you comfort. An embarrassing, dragged out whine slipped past your lips as you took more of his thick girth.
"God, yes, yes, yes!,” You suddenly felt your back hit the ground as his well toned muscled body towered over you as you threw your head back in an outburst of pleasure that overwhelmed your body. Cold shivers ran down your spine. He took both your leg and placed them above his hips, his hand traveled to your clit to continue his fun while he fucked into you even harder and rougher than before.
You watched the way your hole eagerly swallowed his cock from below. It was fast and passionate as he finally fucked you onto his cock, groaning lowly into your ear.
It was easy for him to lift you due to his strength, he would undeniably be able to snap you in half if he really wanted to. A few more pumps, then he muttered.
"Sorry if you wanted to keep it this way." He followed you as he pulled you up onto all fours, his muscled arm wrapped tightly around your waist. Using his forearm for support, a tortuous pull out occurred once again before he snapped your hips together.
You choked out a moan as you pulled your hips back in response. He inhaled sharply and continued rocking his hips with yours. His girth blissfully stretched you out, his cock rubbing against that one spot. His torso emitted heat and as much as it left you in a blissful daze, his reckless hips provided a merciless pounding, the studs gliding against your walls only added more pressure and need to arch your back.
"Y/n...fuck your so tight."
Despite the heat, the overwhelming pleasure, the man behind you, it all just wasn't enough. You wanted to rake your fingers through his thick hair and tug, watch his beautifully flushed face and blazed eyes, run your hands all over his chiseled body.
So, you whimpered and grabbed the arm securing you. "I wanna see you—" A harsh thrust had you biting back a moan and interrupting a thought-out yet simple phrase, that took so much time to piece together when all you had was Logan's name and dick carved into your mind.
A grunt was let out into your ear, a moment later, his hips melded with yours and his thrusting halted. He loosened his grip on you and you rolled over to face him, your hands latching onto his hair in an instant as you brought him closer. A humiliating cry fucked out of your throat. You threw your hands to his back as a reflex.
The veins along his chest and neck stand out, head lifting slightly off the ground as his fingers grip tighter at your chest, his cheeks flush red and his lips part again as he growls deep, guttural sounds. Then, you feel his dick inside you pulse, his strong hips lock into yours as he spasms and spills, his cum hot and thick as you continue to move. He throws his head back again then, jaw dropped as he moans, his eyes squeezed shut and body trembling in time with the spurts of his seed within you. 
Oh, my sweet—" You almost purr, trailing your hands along his forearms, still rocking your hips slightly as you come into his space, lips trailing along the curve of his jaw. He leaned his head down to you placing his forehead against yours taking deep breathes
"You're gorgeous." 
You blush profusely as he chuckles, his hands sliding down to your ass, you press kisses against the underside of his chin until he finally tilts his head down and allows your mouth to cover his. You kiss him languidly, dipping your tongue between his lips, breathing each other's air, feeling his fingers squeeze at your pillowy flesh as he eventually lifts his legs and uses the bit of leverage to thrust his still hard cock slowly in and out. Your whole body shutters beneath him, feeling his cum begin to overflow, sliding wet down the backs of your thighs, and you shiver. 
"You haven't come." He mumbles against your lips.
You smooth your hands up over his cheeks, forehead and all the way up to his hair, lifting from your lover's lips to smile slyly up at him.
"Would you hate me if I asked you to keep going?" 
Logan groans, his hands shifting down to your hips. his length shifting inside you and you gasp as you're pressed harder into the grass, your legs winding around his hips.
"After 200 years...you may be the death of me." 
"Death by fucking too much? There are worse ways to go." You hum happily as the he takes your hands in his and stretches your arms above your head to pin them down against the ground, his weight crushing you, forcing his cock deeper inside. You whimper and your eyes roll, toes curling at how entirely full you feel.
"A—ah, fuck—?"
His grip tightens around your hands and he pulls his hips back until he's almost the entire way out before he slams his sensitive cock back into your pussy. You feel his cum pushing out of you, pushing deeper inside you, each movement causing his entire body to shudder and tremble as he fights through his overstimulation to please you. You reward him with unabashed sounds of satisfaction, your heels digging into the backs of his thighs to urge him on, your hips bucking up to meet his thrusts. Knowing all too well the want to not get caught left your minds from the start.
Logan lowers himself, his entire body encompassing yours with its size as he rocks his hips into you, his dick twitching within your clenching walls, loud, almost pained sounds of unbelievable pleasure muffled against your neck as he feels you unravel around him. You reach your peak, it hits you hard, you turn your face into the crook of his neck as mouth opens in a soundless scream of euphoria. 
You don't know when it happens, but all at once somewhere in the middle of your moaning, Logan makes a wounded noise and you're flooded once again with seed, delirious and writhing beneath him as you take it. You hear the sound of his claws unsheathed as his hips trust more and more until he's empty and your completely full.
He finally releases your hands and slumps on top of you, careful not to completely crush you underneath him, but curling into you and holding tight. You throw your arms around him, breathing erratic as you pulse through your climax, threading your fingers through his hair and clutching him to your body as you feel his smile against your collarbone. 
No words are said as the scent of sex and sweat permeates around the two of you. Both of you holding each other for some time, enjoying the post orgasmic bliss. Lips meet meld into lazy kisses, noses pressed against each other. Both of you share breath as you kiss, too exhausted to pull apart.
HIs muscular arms envelope your body, cradling you protectively. Together relishing in the feeling of the rise and fall of the the others chest, both familiar and new.
You feel your eyes flutter closed, easing into Logan's warm embrace.
-
The next time your eyes open, the sun almost over the horizon. You look around to see Logan is no where in sight. You wondering where he could have gotten to, you sat up looking over toward the sound of the others at the base.
The sound of the others reaches the small woods, conversation just barely too far off to be made out. You see Logan walking into the clearing with a large bucket of warm water and a wash rag with him.
"Logan...are you-"
Before you can speak he takes one of your hands and begins to press the warm damp fabric against your skin. His motion is slow and purposeful. You couldn't help but sigh. Your Logan was always surpassing your expectations of a lover. Here he was, it may not be your Logan caring for you, but in a way you couldn’t have dreamt of asking this from him.
He looks at you seeing a hint of tenderness in your eyes. Soon your guided to twist to face away from him, his strong arms pressing the warm cloth against your sore muscles and long healed scars.
You moaned sighs at the sensation, he takes care to clean every surface of your body. His eyes are focused, consumed wholly in this act of love. You watch him. Adoration and love builds up in your chest at the ways his eyebrows crease and his eyes focus.
You turn your body back to face him, both of you shareing a longing look. He sees into your very person, and you into his. His eyes drift between your legs, and worry enters his mind.
“I - lost myself in the moment. I shouldn't have done that.”
You placed an affectionate hand over your lower belly with a subtle smile.
“Don't worry Logan, I'm not upset. It felt good in the moment." He moves in closer as you lie back down against the grass, spreading her legs for him. You feel the warm rag against you, the touch isn’t sexual, But rather filled with the same love and care it had pressed into her skin just a moment before.
"I don’t regret it at all.” You say as you pull him to lay beside you.
"Do you?" You asked as you felt your heart beat quicken. With a sigh and a smile he combs out your hair with his fingers, moving the loose strands of hair away from your face.
"Never."
You relaxed as you felt him melting in your arms, content beyond all measure, whispering words of love and devotion in your ear.
"We should probably head back soon, otherwise Wade may find us."
"If he does he can fuck off." Logan said pulling you in closer as you chuckled to yourself. You smiled up at him as you brought your head against his chest, a few more hours would be alright, at least for now.
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yazthebookish · 3 days
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Maybe I'll spoil you guys and talk about Gwynriel and ACOTAR5 and anything related to it overall. I recently finished my HOFAS reread and have some fresh thoughts. I'll let my thoughts guide me and some of these points I've already addressed in my insta stories yesterday. I just rather share a lengthy post here since I'll only tag under #gwynriel.
I often see arguments about how Gwyn and Azriel can't move the plot forward because the series is centered on the Archeron sisters.
First, that's not true because Sarah is following what she called "a traditional romance route". She's following the same patterns of Nalini Singh, Kresley Cole, and Lisa Kleypas where they publish multiple books in the same series following different couples.
This is fitting for a series like ACOTAR because it's romance-centered. And Sarah have already said that each couple is getting one book and there will likely be more books beyond ACOTAR6.
Saying that doesn't dismiss the importance of the sisters to the story, Feyre already has a trilogy centered on her. The spin-off just follows different characters including the sisters.
I won't try hard to convince people on this because I've already posted almost everything Sarah said about the spin-off series and what's it's about. So if the next book is not centered on an Archeron sister, that's for Sarah to bamboozle the fandom with.
One thing that stuck out to me is when I compared the ending of ACOSF with the scene of Bryce giving Nesta Gwydion and seeming like she left Nesta with a new quest.
First, this is what the text says, and this is Chapter 80, the very last chapter in ACOSF:
Succeeding in the Blood Rite didn't mean the training stopped. No, after she and her friends told Cassian and Azriel most of the details of their ordeal, the two commanders had compiled a long list of mistakes that the three of them had made that needed to be corrected, and the others wanted to learn from them, too. So they would keep training, until they were all well and truly Valkyries. Gwyn, despite the Rite, had returned to living in the library.
1. The Valkyries are not yet a unit.
2. SJM only and specifically highlighted that Gwyn, despite the Rite, returned to living in the library. It was like "hey, remember all the talk Gwyn did about wanting to leave the library after two years? Yeah that's on hold a bit but keep that in mind". She didnt even add Emerie or the other priestesses to that sentence.
With Nesta being left with Gwydion to find out why the 8-pointed star was tattooed on her, I don't think the next book will start with "hey Elain take this sword and deal with it". Who are Nesta's main companions now? Gwyn and Emerie.
I'll be back to the Valkyries but let's just talk about Azriel for a bit.
It is so painfully obvious to me that Azriel is being handed the Illyrian plot on a golden platter. How big or small of a plot it is depends on SJM, but it's important based on the fact that she fleshed out the Illyrian's origins and tied them to the crossover AND making Truth-teller the knife of Enalius.
That is a big deal for an Illyrian like Azriel.
And I quote my friend Lacie on this, it is very poetic for Azriel to be the owner of the knife that originally belonged to the person who freed his own people from the Daglan's clutches, perhaps because he saw his people are more than just slaves to the Daglan—how powerful would it be for Azriel, who loathes his own people, to parallel Enalius.
And for years some people were against Azriel dealing with this plot because he shouldn't make peace with his "abusers", its true his own family and some Illyrians failed him but he is condemning an entire population. Good people like Emerie and Balthazar. Even Rhys's mother, who had valid reasons to hate her people especially as a female, still made sure to make Rhysand connect with his Illyrian heritage and he even goes on to say that his mother didn't forget what they did to her but still loved her people.
If both Cassian and Rhysand (and by extension the author) continue to flag Azriel's hatred of the Illyrians as an issue—then it is a damn big issue for it to be addressed repeatedly.
Okay so to address my final point about Gwyn and Azriel and how they can move the plot forward.
Now I didn't detail out much about what the next book will deal with because that's another post (and I already have a post on that).
All of our theories and predictions are based on information that is available to us. Saying Azriel and Gwyn cannot move the plot forward does not make any sense because the central plot is tied to multiple characters, Archeron or not.
If SJM wants to make a character move the next book's plot forward, she can do it because she's in control of the story. She's in control of the narrative. She's in control of the characters.
The characters are puppets and this is an unfinished story. If some characters would add more value and make for a more interesting story before the others, she can decide on that. If she wants to make Eris the protagonist of the next book, she can easily do that whether the fandom wants it or not.
Let me give you an example of minor characters that pushed the plot forward and became main characters: Yrene Towers and the Hind. These kind of arguments could've been used for them in HOEAB or HOSAB and Pre-TOD. Before HOSAB/HOFAS and TOD, could we have predicted that they would have played a crucial role before those books? Not likely because they had minimal appearances and were not part of the main cast. This is what I'm talking about.
You can't know how a character will contribute to a story until you see how it all unfolds. We can make guesses on the information we have which is why I believe three characters are likely to join the main cast: Gwyn, Emerie, and Eris.
Why is it so easy to accept that Emerie might be sharing a book with an original character like Mor but it's hard to comprehend the fact that Gwyn could also share a book with Azriel? Because Emerie showed up in ACOFAS? To me that's not really a strong argument based on Sarah's writing and what we have in the books, she doesn't really pick based on who showed up the earliest. Here's a good example: Hypaxia, who showed up earlier, didn't even get her own chapters but the Hind did.
And there's one argument I recall about how I need to rely on Nesta to have a plot focused on Gwyn or the Valkyries in the next book. Nesta's arc is clearly not over based on HOFAS, but does that mean she's getting a POV? Not necessarily. I don't think she is. Gwyn is the perfect candidate for us to see what's going on with Nesta post-HOFAS and how they all deal with the Valkyries and whatever Sarah will set up with them.
There is this whole Valkyrie/Illyrian conflict that could be triggered as a result of the Blood Rite, with Ramiel definitely being an important location to explore in the next book, we also have the Pegasi and the Prison and the implications of the crossover. It makes sense to have an Illyrian and a Valkyrie POV to deal with some plots in the next book.
"Gwyn contributes to nothing" we can't know until the book is out. How sure are we that maybe SJM won't connect her to the crossover by making her mysterious father a Worldwalker? Or Prince of Hel? Or an Asteri? Maybe I'm right maybe I'm wrong.
"But Koschei! And the Human Queens!" Koschei will always be a background player pulling on the strings until the final book as it's obvious he is the big bad in the series, unless someone even worse is revealed. But no one is dismissing Koschei or the Human Queens messing around.
Literally what's the point of the story or the fun elements of surprises or plot twists if you need Sarah to list down everything that the next books will deal with. That's not how a story develops to me. I don't need to know everything in advance to just know how it will go. That's like knowing spoilers early on and checking off with each book what happened and what didn't happen. I feel like it's close to how a lot of readers were disappointed with not having enough ACOTAR in HOFAS, because Sarah implied half of the book would be set in Prythian. So by the time the book came out and it wasn't that, people were vocal about it.
In my opinion, SJM set a good foundation for Gwyn's arc to build up on in ACOSF and her arc is not over. We won't get mentions of her still carrying the guilt of her sister's death or not leaving the library after she said she's sick of being there for two years without us seeing resolution for that. She wouldn't be in Azriel's bonus chapter if she is not involved with him.
To conclude, my reread still affirms to me that the next book with an Azriel/Gwyn book. Azriel is clearly being set in the forefront.
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freshl6ve · 1 day
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𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓. 𝐒 | 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐃?
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𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑─𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐊
₊⊹⁀➴ : Late at night, Y/N lies awake, her mind racing and the familiar ache of insomnia gnawing at her. Weed always helped her sleep, but ever since she cut ties with her old habits, she hasn’t found relief. It’s been months since she last saw Matt, her ex-dealer, and she’d promised herself not to fall back into old routines. But tonight, the restlessness is unbearable. Desperate for peace, she grabs her keys and drives through the dark streets, the memory of Matt’s place pulling her in. Before she knows it, she’s standing at his door, heart pounding, unsure of what she’ll say when he answers.
⭑.ᐟ : SMUT, dealer!matt x reader, unprotected sex (be safe!), oral (y/n receiving), p in v, dom!matt x sub!reader, mention of drugs, pet names (baby, sweetheart), dirty talk, switch(?) and more.
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𝐀 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐋𝟔𝐕𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄-𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋
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˚⊱🪄⊰˚ : 𝐈 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠, my mind racing with a hundred thoughts. It was late, the world outside my bedroom window was pitch black and silent. I rolled over, trying to force myself to close my eyes and drift off to sleep, but it was no use. My mind was a whirlpool of worries and anxieties, refusing to let me find peace. Hours seemed to pass, the clock on my bedside table ticking away the minutes. I tossed and turned, my frustration growing with every passing moment. I knew I had to find a way to calm my mind, but nothing seemed to work.
I sat up in bed, rubbing my eyes in frustration. It was as if my mind had its own agenda, refusing to cooperate with my body's need for rest. I glanced at the clock and saw that it was now 3:00 am. I sighed, feeling like I had been battling the demons of insomnia for an eternity. I decided that lying in bed was not going to solve anything. I needed a change of scenery, a distraction.
I felt a pang of guilt in my chest as my mind drifted to the familiar escape it had always sought— weed. I immediately pushed the thought away, reminding myself of the promise I had made to myself. No more falling into old habits, no more dependence on substances to numb the pain. But the more I tried to forget about it, the more the memory of its calming effects lingered in my mind.
I lay back down on the bed, my body tense and restless. I knew I had to find a way to distract myself from the temptation, but my thoughts kept returning to the past. Matt's face flashed in my mind, and my stomach twisted in knots. I had cut ties with him months ago, and the memories of our tumultuous relationship still haunted me. Seeing him again would only stir up old emotions that I was desperate to keep buried.
I took a deep breath, trying to steady my thoughts. But the restless feeling within me didn’t subside. It was as if a part of me was still clinging to the past, refusing to let go.
“Fuck it”
Before I knew it, my car keys were in my hand, the familiar route to Matt’s house etched into my memory.
The drive to Matt's house was a blur. I wasn't thinking clearly, my mind was a mixture of nervousness and adrenaline. I tried to think of what I would say when I saw him, to justify my impulsive decision to show up at his doorstep in the middle of the night. The streets were quiet, the city seemed eerily still. I felt a pang of doubt, but my mind was too clouded with restlessness to turn back now.
I parked my car and turned it off immediately, not wanting to alert Matt of my presence just yet. My heart was pounding in my chest as I walked towards his driveway. I could see the lights were on in his house, a sign that he was still awake. I took a deep breath and walked up to the front door, my hand hovering over the door.
Matt stood in the doorway, his expression calm and almost nonchalant. He looked at me for a moment, his eyes scanning my face and taking in my disheveled appearance. He leaned casually against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest.
Matt's eyebrows raised slightly as he looked me up and down. He gave a half-smile, a hint of surprise in his voice.
“Well, fancy seeing you here,” he said, his tone casual and almost amused. “I wasn't expecting company this late.”
I looked up at Matt, my voice slightly sheepish. “I couldn't sleep,” I admitted, the words sounding weak in the quiet night. “And, well, I'm all out.” I paused, my eyes locking with his. “I was hoping you might have something.”
Matt smirked slightly, leaning against the doorframe. “I thought you quit,” he remarked, a hint of amusement in his voice. I gave him a firm glare, my voice firm.
“I'm not here for small talk,” I snapped, my eyes meeting his. “I just need a quick pick-up, pay you, and leave. That's it. Don't get any ideas.”
Matt chuckled, his eyes scanning my face as he spoke. “Well, you showed up at my house in the middle of the night,” he said, a hint of teasing in his voice. “You can't blame me for being surprised. I figured we might at least exchange a few words.”
I took a deep breath, my patience wearing thin.
“Matt, please,” I pleaded, my voice weary. “I'm exhausted, I can't do this right now. I just want to grab what I need and go home. I'm desperate for a good night's sleep.”
Matt chuckled, pushing himself off the door frame and gesturing for me to come in. “Alright, alright,” he said, his tone slightly amused. “Come in, then.”
I entered his house, my body tense and my mind still racing. The familiar surroundings brought back a wave of memories, but I pushed them out of my mind. I was here for one thing and one thing only.
I followed Matt into the living room, my eyes darting around the space. The room was cozy and familiar, but I felt out of place. Matt gestured for me to take a seat on the couch, and I sank down onto the cushions, my body feeling weary.
“I'll be right back,” Matt said, disappearing down the hallway and into his bedroom.
I sat in the silence, my mind still racing with thoughts and memories. The room felt too quiet, too empty. The minutes ticked by slowly, and I found myself feeling restless again. I fidgeted with my hands, my eyes darting around the room. Just when I was starting to wonder how much longer Matt would take, I heard footsteps approaching again.
Matt returned from his bedroom, his footsteps heavy against the hardwood floor. He looked calm and collected as he took a seat on the couch, a few feet away from where I sat.
“So,” he began, his voice casual, “what do you need?”
I met his gaze, my voice steady. “A quarter ounce should be fine,” I replied, not wanting to linger on the details. I just wanted to get what I came for and leave.
Matt looked at me, his expression still nonchalant, and chuckled softly. “Want me to pre roll them for you?” he asked, his tone casually, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
In my mind, I couldn't help but think about the past. Matt had always been good at rolling joints, his hands skillful and swift. He had this way of making them look perfect, and they seemed to smoke better too. I remembered watching him roll, his fingers moving effortlessly and the end product always being a thing of beauty.
I knew that when Matt offered to pre roll my joints, he knew damn well that I would end up watching him, admiring his skill. It was a part of the ritual, a small pleasure that came with the transaction. His hands were like magic, and it was impossible to look away.
I nodded my head, unable to resist the offer. “Yeah,” I said, my voice slightly huskier than I had intended. “That'd be nice.”
Matt chuckled, not missing the change in my voice. He got up from the couch and walked over to the table where all his supplies were laid out. I watched as he grabbed the papers, the grinder, and the rolling tray, his movements efficient and smooth.
It was as if he was in his own little world, his mind completely focused on the task at hand. I couldn't help but admire his skill and precision as he started to roll the joint, his fingers working the paper and the weed with ease.
As Matt focused on rolling the first joint, his hands working in a practiced, smooth rhythm, I couldn't help but break the silence.
“It's really quiet,” I said, my voice tinged with curiosity. “Where's Nick and Chris?”
Matt answered without looking up from his work, his tongue quickly sealing the joint with a precise lick. “They're out,” he replied, his voice casual. “Went to some party or something. Probably won't be back for a while.”
I nodded, watching as he moved on to the next joint, his dexterous fingers working quickly. The sound of paper and weed being ground and rolled was the only sound in the room, along with our steady breaths.
It was almost soothing, the repetitive motions and the familiar scent of weed. I glanced at Matt, taking in the slight furrow in his brow as he concentrated on the task at hand. He was like a damn maestro, a master of his craft.
I couldn't help but ask, my curiosity getting the better of me. “How come you didn't go?” I inquired, my voice soft and low.
Matt sealed the second joint with another precise lick, his eyes meeting mine for a moment before he looked back down at his work.
“You know I don't do parties,” he said, his tone nonchalant. “Too much noise, too many people. I prefer my own company.”
I chuckled softly, realizing the irony of my question. “Right,” I said, my voice tinged with a hint of amusement. “I forgot you prefer solitude.”
I took a moment to reposition myself, shifting on the couch until I was comfortable. I placed my arms on the headrest, my head resting on them as I watched Matt across the room. The L shape of the couch allowed me a clear view of him as he continued rolling the joints.
I couldn’t help but speak my thought aloud, letting the words slip out before I could censor myself. “You know, it’s one of the things I always admired about you,” I said, my voice soft and honest.
There was no use denying it now. It was true. Matt’s preference for solitude and his ability to find contentment in his own company was something I had always found admirable. In a world where everyone seemed to be constantly seeking company, Matt’s self-sufficiency was a breath of fresh air.
As he sealed the third joint, his hands moving deftly, I continued to watch him, my head still resting on my arms. I couldn’t help but feel a pang of nostalgia as I remembered all the times we had spent like this, him rolling joints and me observing, both of us comfortably silent.
The words slipped out before I could stop them, my voice filled with a mixture of emotions. “Why didn't you call, Matt?” I blurted out, my tone laced with longing and regret.
Matt freezes, his hands pausing mid-roll. He sets the half-rolled joint down on the table, his movements deliberate and slow. He leans back against the edge of the table, his fingertips gripping the edge of the surface. His back is tense, his shoulders hunching ever so slightly.
The room falls silent, the weight of my question hanging in the air. I can feel the tension between us, thick and palpable. I know I’ve crossed a line, bringing up the past and stirring up memories that we both had left behind. But something in me had compelled me to ask, a desperate need to know why he hadn’t reached out to me.
Matt's voice is quiet, his grip on the edge of the table tightening. “I just thought you needed space,” he says gently, his eyes meeting mine across the room. “I didn't want to push you or make things worse.”
The simple admission hangs in the air, the truth of his words making my heart ache. I had wanted space, yes, but in my silence I hadn’t realized how much I had missed his presence, his calm voice and steady demeanor.
Matt lets out a small sigh, his grip on the table loosening slightly. “Trust me,” he replies, his voice tinged with regret. “I tried to reach out, to make things right. But I couldn't forgive myself for what happened, and I didn't want to put you in a position where you were forced to forgive me.”
Matt takes a deep breath, his eyes downcast as he continues. “I was in a bad place,” he says, his voice quieter now. “And what I did to you�� using you like a toy, when you were something special to me. I couldn’t see it then, couldn’t appreciate what I had. The addiction had its claws too deep into me.”
I nodded, a silent acknowledgement of his words. Matt's voice is soft and sincere as he continues.
“Our argument that night made me realize what I had lost,” he admits, his eyes still avoiding mine. “Since then, I've given up on the hard drugs and stuck with weed instead. It was tough, a rough road, but it's been worth it.”
Matt pushes himself off the table, his movements fluid and deliberate. He walks towards me, his steps silent as he approaches. I continue to look up at him as he places his hands down on either side of me.
“You don't need weed to help you,” he says, his voice a low murmur in the closeness. “You're just inside your head a lot, and you don't know how to shut it off.”
I couldn't argue against his words, because Matt had hit the nail on the head. I had always been prone to overthinking, my mind a never-ending whirlwind that refused to quiet down. It was as if he could see straight into the depths of my being, knowing me better than I knew myself.
I hated how accurately he had summed up my struggle, how easily he had picked apart my thoughts and laid them bare. It was both irritating and endearing, how well he understood me despite our months apart.
Matt's eyes hold a mixture of pain, regret, and longing as he gazes down at me. His voice is earnest and pleading as he speaks, his words ringing with sincerity.
“I’m sorry for everything,” he says, his voice slightly shaky. “I’m sorry it took me 5 months to apologize. I don’t want you to forgive me, I don’t deserve to be forgiven. I’m a bad person.”
Without thinking, I reach up to bring him into a kiss, my hand threading through his soft locks - a familiar sensation that I had missed dearly.
We slowly pull away, our lips reluctantly parting, yet our faces remaining close. I look up at him, my voice soft and earnest, as I speak.
“You're not a bad person,” I say, my hand still cradling the back of his head. “You just had a rough time.”
Matt's gaze locks with mine, his eyes swimming with emotion. When he speaks, his voice is raw and filled with vulnerability.
“I missed you,” he whispers, his thumb gently brushing against my jawline.
I can feel my heart swell at his words, a mixture of emotions swirling through me. I had missed him too, more than I cared to admit. The months apart had been a painful reminder of just how deeply he had become rooted in my life, and just how much his absence had left a hole in me.
I looked up at him, my eyes meeting his, their depths filled with a mixture of pain, love, and forgiveness. “I missed you too,” I whispered back, my voice barely above a breath.
Matt's hands grip my hips as he effortlessly lifts me up from the couch, my legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. Without breaking our kiss, he carries me across the room and down the hallway towards his room. The hunger and desire in our kiss grow with each step, and by the time we reach his bedroom, we're pawing at each other like we can't get close enough.
He gently sets me down on the bed, his body following closely as he hovers over me. The kiss deepens, our tongues hungrily seeking each other, and his hands begin to wander, running up and down my sides and slipping under my shirt.
His touch ignites a trail of fire against my skin, and I arch my back, pressing my body closer to his. In that moment, nothing else mattered but the feel of his hands on my body and the heat of his skin against mine. The past months of separation faded into the background, replaced by the pure sensation of being with him again. I wanted him, needed him, and was willing to surrender to the storm of emotions and physicality between us.
There was no denying it— I was powerless against him. Despite the hurtful things that had happened between us, I couldn't resist his touch, couldn't deny the pull I felt towards him. I wanted him close, wanted to feel the weight of his body against mine, to have his hands on me, to lose myself in the sensations he stirred within me. I would let him do anything, give him anything he wanted if it meant having him near.
Matt breaks away from the kiss and begins to trail his lips down my neck, his kisses hot and urgent. He nips at my skin, his teeth grazing against my pulse point, his tongue soothing the pain afterwards. I shiver at the sensations, my hands gripping his shoulders, my breath coming in short gasps.
He kisses further down my neck, his hands gripping my hips, and I arch my back, offering myself to him. His mouth finds a sensitive spot, and he sucks on it gently, his teeth biting down just enough to send a jolt of pleasure through me.
“Matt...” I moan, my fingers digging into his shoulders.
His hands trail down to my thighs, slowly sliding down my sweats. I part my legs for him, inviting him to touch me. He chuckles softly against my neck, knowing that he has me wrapped around his finger.
His touch is gentle at first, his fingers slowly caressing my inner thighs. He takes his time, enjoying the way my breath hitches with anticipation. “Please...” I whisper, my voice barely audible. He smirks, knowing that I'm begging for him.
He slides my underwear to the side, his fingers tracing the length of my folds. I'm already wet for him, my body aching for release. He slips a finger inside me, Pumping it in and out slowly, his palm grazing against my most sensitive spot.
“You're so wet,” he whispers, his breath hot against my ear. He adds another finger, filling me up even more. I moan loudly, my hips bucking against his hand. He knows just how to touch me to drive me wild. “Nobody is here, be as loud as you want to be, Sweetheart”
His fingers curl inside me, finding that spot that makes my eyes roll back in my head. His mouth latches onto my neck, sucking and biting as his fingers pump in and out of me. I'm so close, my breathing growing ragged, my hands gripping his shoulders tightly.
I reach down and grab onto his wrist, my nails digging into his skin as my orgasm crashes over me. “Matt...oh god, Matt...” I moan, my body convulsing in his arms. He continues to finger me through my orgasm, drawing it out as long as possible.
He pulls his hand out of my pants, leaving me feeling empty. But then he reaches for the hem of my sweats and underwear, pulling them both down my legs in one swift motion. I lift my hips to help him, my body still tingling from the aftermath of my orgasm.
He buries his face between my legs, his nose pressing against my heat as he spreads my lips apart with his thumbs. I gasp as his tongue dives into my pussy, licking up every drop of my juices. He pushes my legs back over his shoulders, giving him full access to feast on me.
I reach down and tangle my fingers in his hair, holding on for dear life as his mouth works its magic on me. His tongue delves deep inside, curling up to hit that magical spot. I grind against his face, shamelessly riding his mouth as the pleasure builds again. “Matt...”
“Oh god, Matt...” I moan, my body writhing beneath him as his tongue works tirelessly on me. He brings me right to the edge, only to back off and start all over again. I'm a moaning, begging mess, completely at his mercy. “Please...”
“Please what, baby?” he murmurs against my flesh, his breath hot on my soaked skin. “Please...please don't stop...I'm so close...” I beg, my hands fisting in his hair. He hums against me, the vibrations sending me spiraling out of control. “Matt!”
With a final swipe of his tongue, he sends me hurtling over the edge. I shout his name, my back arching off the bed as waves of pleasure crash over me. He keeps going, drawing out my release until I'm a quivering, boneless mess beneath him.
He finally lifts his head, his face glistening with my juices. I watch through hazy eyes as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “You taste so fucking good,” he growls, crawling up my body. I can feel his hard cock pressing against my thigh.
He catches my lips in a searing kiss, allowing me to taste myself on his mouth. As we kiss, I reach down and unbuckle his belt, then slip my hand into his pants to wrap my fingers around his thick, hard length. He groans into my mouth, his hips jerking forward.
I start stroking him, my small hand moving up and down his shaft. He breaks the kiss to throw his head back, his eyes rolling shut as he fucks my hand. “Fuck, yeah...just like that,” he grits out, his fingers digging into my hip.
His movements become more urgent, his hips snapping forward as he thrusts into my hand. I tighten my grip, loving the way his face contorts with pleasure. He suddenly pauses, his breath hitching. “Not like this,” he rasps. “I need to be inside you.”
He grabs my wrist and pulls my hand out of his pants, then shoves his own pants and underwear down his hips. His erection springs free, curving up against his abdomen.
He reaches for the hem of my shirt and pulls it up and over my head, tossing it aside. He quickly dispenses with his own shirt, revealing his toned chest. He leans down to kiss me again, his hands roaming over my bare skin. “No bra? You’re insane.”
He chuckles against my mouth, his hands reaching up to cup my bare breasts. “You're killing me, you know that?” He breaks the kiss to trail his lips down my neck and chest, pausing to lavish attention on each peak. I arch against him, my fingers tangling in his hair.
“Matt...” I whimper as he sucks one hard peak into his mouth, his hand squeezing and massaging my other breast. He lavishes attention on each breast in turn, bringing them to hardened peaks before moving back down my body.
He kisses and caresses every inch of my skin, making me squirm with need. When he settles between my thighs, I wrap my legs around his waist, my heels digging into his backside. He lines himself up with my opening and slowly pushes inside. We both moan at the sensation.
He takes his time, gently rocking his hips as he gradually buries himself to the hilt. Once fully sheathed, he pauses and leans down to kiss me. “You okay, baby?” he murmurs. I nod, my nails scoring his back. “More than okay. Please move...please...”
He starts to move, his hips rocking slowly at first and then picking up speed. He thrusts deep and hard, hitting all the right spots inside me. I meet him thrust for thrust, our bodies moving in perfect sync. The bed creaks and shakes with the force of our lovemaking.
As he continues to thrust into me, a sharp pinch of pain mixes with the pleasure. It's been months since we last did this, and my body has clearly forgotten just how big he is. I gasp, my nails digging into his back. “Fuck...it hurts,”
He pauses mid-thrust, his eyes filled with concern. “Want me to slow down?” he asks. “Or maybe stop?” I shake my head, wrapping my legs tighter around his waist. “No...just...give me a sec...you're just so big...”
I take a deep breath, trying to relax my body and adjust to his size. “It's been a while since I hooked up with anyone,” I admit, my cheeks flushing. “And you were my last...so my body forgot how big you were.”
He smirked, brushing a strand of hair out of my face. “Good,” he murmurs. “Then maybe I should remind you.” He begins to move again, his hips slowly pumping as he gradually eases in and out of me. The pain fades, replaced by warmth and pleasure.
I arch against him, my nails scoring his back as the sensations build inside me. “More...” I whimper, wrapping my legs tighter around his waist. He responds by quickening his pace, his thrusts becoming deeper and more intense. The sound of our bodies slapping together fills the room.
His breathing grows ragged, his face buried in the crook of my neck as he pistons his hips back and forth. “You...feel...so...good...” he pants between thrusts. I can feel the pressure inside me building, coiling tight like a spring ready to snap. “Fuck, Matt...”
I grip his head, my fingers tangled in his hair as he pounds into me harder and faster. My vision starts to blur, the room spinning as he hits that spot inside me just right. “Ah! Matt! Matt, please!” I cry out, my voice hoarse from screaming his name.
He buries his face in my neck, his hot breath sending shivers down my spine as he speaks in a guttural tone. “Fuck, you're so tight...so fucking tight around my cock. I'm gonna fuck you until you can't walk...until you can't think...”
“...Your pussy is the only one I care about, the only one I craved for. I missed your sweet little cries, your desperate pleas for mercy...I missed fucking you senseless until you passed out from exhaustion...I missed being the only one who gets to hear you scream my name...”
“You're mine, and only mine. No one else gets to touch you, to hear your beautiful voice beg for more...no one else gets to see your face twist in pleasure...That's my right, my privilege...and I've missed it so much...” With each word, he thrusts into me harder, his voice growing darker, more possessive.
I'm a moaning, writhing mess beneath him, my body completely his to command. My back arches off the bed as he grinds against me, his hips rolling in a circle as he hits that sweet spot deep inside. “Oh god, Matt! Yes! More! Please, more!”
He responds to my begging by capturing my mouth in a searing kiss, swallowing my cries as he increases his pace. His body slams into mine, each thrust punctuated by a sharp slap of skin against skin. He tears his mouth away from mine, his jaw clenched. “Louder...”
“I want to hear you scream my name for the whole neighborhood. I want them to know who's making you beg for mercy...who's making you fall apart...only me” His hands wrap around my thighs, tilting my hips to take him even deeper. “Matt! Matt, it's too much!”
His answer is to grab my ankles and pull my legs up to my chest, completely changing the angle of his thrusts. The new position has him hitting my g-spot with every stroke, sending me hurtling towards another orgasm. “NO! STOP! I CAN'T...OH FUCK, MATT!”
He grins mischievously, his eyes locked onto mine as he continues to pound into me mercilessly. “You can take it, sweetheart...You can take all of me...Look at me,”
I force my eyes open, meeting his intense gaze as he drives into me. “See how hard you make me? See how much I love fucking you?” His thumb presses against my clit, sending electric shocks through my body.
The combination of his thrusts and his thumb is too much, and I come apart with a scream, my vision blurring as my body shakes with the force of my orgasm. Matt keeps thrusting through my contractions, his own release approaching. “Fuck, fuck, FUCK!”
I reach out and grab his wrist, my nails digging into his skin as another wave of pleasure washes over me. “Matt...I...I can't...” I pant, my body overwhelmed by the intense stimulation. He leans down, his lips brushing against mine as he speaks.
“You can...”
“...And you will...Now, hold on tight...” With that, he begins to move faster, his hips slamming against mine as he chases his own release. The sound of our bodies colliding fills the room, along with our labored breaths and desperate moans.
“Fuck...I need you to ride me...” He gruffly pulls out of me, flipping us over so that I'm straddling him. His hands grasp my hips, lifting me up and guiding me back down onto his cock. “Ride me, baby...”
He leans back against the headboard, his hands gripping my thighs as he watches me intently. I slowly rise and fall on his lap, my hands resting on his chest for balance. His eyes flutter closed as I pick up the pace, his head tilting back against the headboard. “Just like that...”
His hands squeeze my thighs, his fingers flexing against my skin as he tries to guide my movements. “Oh god, Y/N...You're gonna make me lose it...” He lets his head fall forward, his gaze locked onto where our bodies join. “Look at you...taking me so deep...”
I whimper, my nails digging into his chest as I continue to ride him. The sight of my body sliding up and down his cock is incredibly erotic, and I can feel my own arousal growing again. “Touch yourself,” he commands, his voice tight with impending release.
I reach down between my legs, my fingers finding my clit. I start rubbing it in tight circles, the sensation combining with the feeling of his cock inside me pushing me closer and closer to another orgasm. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I chant, my hips bucking wildly against his.
Matt brings his hand down on top of mine, pressing my fingers harder against my flesh. “Come on, sweetheart...show me what you can do...just like that...” His voice is low and commanding, pushing me closer to the edge. “Matt...it's too much...”
Matt increases the pressure, his hand moving my fingers in even faster circles. I arch my back, screaming in ecstasy as the pleasure becomes almost too much to bear. I hold onto his thighs, my nails digging into his skin as I lose control. “MATT! FUCK!”
He slides his hands up my body, resting them on my waist as he leans in, his mouth hovering over my breast. His breath fans over my skin, making me shiver. He sucks a nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the hardened peak as he slams into me from below.
I bring my hands up to rest on top of the headboard, gripping it tightly as Matt pounds into me. My head falls back, my hair cascading down my back as he continues to devour my breasts.
Matt looks up at me, his eyes locked on mine as he continues to fuck me. He pulls back slightly, his mouth leaving my breast with a soft pop. “Look at me,” he commands, his voice husky with desire. I meet his gaze, my eyes glassy with pleasure.
He brings me into a passionate kiss, his tongue tangling with mine as he continues to move inside me. I bring my hand up to his hair, my fingers threading through the brown strands as I lose myself in the moment. “Y/N...” he whispers against my lips, his voice tight with impending release.
As he whispers my name, I melt at the sound, my heart skipping a beat. I loved how he says it, how his voice cracks slightly with emotion, how his lips form the words perfectly. It's like music to my ears, and I craved hearing it more and more with each passing day.
The way he says my name...it's different coming from him. It's passionate, full of need and desire. It's like he's branding me as his, claiming me in the most intimate way possible. And I love it. I love how it makes me feel special, cherished, desired.
Our kiss becomes more heated, our mouths devouring each other as if we can't get enough. His hands grip my hips tightly, his fingers digging into my flesh as he continues to thrust into me. I moan into his mouth, my cries muffled by his kiss.
Matt's movements become more urgent, his hips jerking up to meet mine with each thrust. He pulls away from the kiss, his head thrown back as he moans loudly. “Fuck, I'm close...” His words come out broken, his voice tight with desire.
His hands tighten on my hips, his fingers digging painfully into my flesh as he thrusts into me one last time. He lets out a low growl, his whole body tensing as he finds his release. “Fuck! Y/N!” he moans my name, his voice filled with passion and devotion.
He releases into me, his warmth filling me completely. But with how full I am, some of it spills out. He lets out a shaky breath, his body still trembling with aftershocks. He lays his head back against the headboard, his eyes fluttering closed. “Oh god…”
I giggle softly, seeing Matt so spent and relaxed. His brunette hair is damp with sweat, making it look even darker. The damp strands stick to his forehead, accentuating his chiseled features. He looks so handsome like this, all relaxed and boneless from our passionate encounter.
I shift slightly, intending to move off him, but Matt's hands fly to my hips, stopping me. “No, no baby don’t move,” His voice is low and lazy, his eyes still closed.
I chuckle and lower myself, kissing his jawline before moving to his neck. I mark him with my kisses, my love bites, claiming him as mine. He moans softly, his hands tightening on my hips as he enjoys the attention. “Y/N...” he whispers, his eyes still closed.
His hands roam over my back, his touch gentle and soothing. He runs his fingers through my hair, tugging lightly. I continue to mark his neck and jaw, loving the way he moans my name. “Baby, please...I can't take much more...”
His breathing hitches as I continue to kiss and bite his neck. His grip on my hips tightens, his fingers digging into my flesh. “Y/N, please...baby, you've gotta stop...I can't...I'm going to cum again..” His voice is hoarse, his breathing uneven.
His hips jerk up against me, his hard length pulsing between my thighs. I look at him, his face flushed, his eyes closed, his lashes casting shadows on his cheeks. He looks so vulnerable, so open...and I love it.
Matt's body jerks as he cums again, his hips thrusting up against me with a desperate urgency. There's no space left inside me, so his release spills out onto the bed, a thick stream of cum coating the sheets. I giggle, feeling incredibly full, my pussy stretched to the limit.
I cup his face in my hands, peppering his lips with soft kisses. He grins, his eyes still shut, his face relaxed and content. “Mmm...I love you, sweetheart” he murmurs, his voice lazy and sleepy.
I continue to kiss him, my hands caressing his cheeks. “I love you too” I whisper against his lips. He hums contentedly, his arms wrapping around me, pulling me closer.
I continue planting gentle kisses on his lips, his nose, his cheeks, anywhere I can reach without breaking our embrace. He sighs happily, his eyes still closed, letting me shower him with affection.
Matt finally opens his eyes, looking at me with a soft, loving expression. “Come on, let's clean up.” He carefully picks me up, his hands gently supporting my waist. As he lifts me off him, our combined juices spill out, coating his abdomen and the bed sheets.
He carries me to the bathroom, setting me down on the counter. He grabs a cloth and wipes himself clean, making sure to remove every trace of our intimacy. Once he's done, he turns his attention to me, gently wiping between my legs with a warm cloth.
He turns on the shower, testing the water temperature before helping me in. “I'll join you right now,” he says, his voice gentle. “Let me just put the sheets in the washer and put new ones on the bed.” He gives me a quick kiss before leaving the bathroom.
I step under the spray, sighing happily as the warm water cascades down my body. I lean against the wall, watching as Matt hurries back into the bathroom a few minutes later. He steps into the shower with me, pulling me into his arms. “Mmm...the bed's fresh now”
He tenderly washes my hair and body, taking extra care to clean between my thighs. He rinses me off, his touch gentle and loving. He steps out of the shower and wraps me in a fluffy towel, drying me off thoroughly. “Come on, let's get you into some clothes.”He picks up our discarded clothes from the floor, balled up and thrown haphazardly. He walks across the room to the closet where the washer and dryer are tucked away. He throws our clothes into the washer, starting a load.
He rummages through his dresser, pulling out a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. “Here, these should fit you.”He helps me into his clothes, his touch gentle.
He picks up our discarded clothes from the floor, balled up and thrown haphazardly. He walks across the room to the closet where the washer and dryer are tucked away. He throws our clothes into the washer, starting a load.
I sit on the edge of the bed, watching as Matt returns from the closet, his chest still glistening with droplets of water. He's wearing nothing but a low-slung towel around his hips. I admire his physique, his broad chest, lean muscles, and toned abs.
He walks over to his dresser and begins to sort through the drawers, picking out a pair of grey sweats and a black hoodie. As he does, he hears me speak up from the bed. “I always loved how you looked when you came out of the shower with a towel wrapped around your waist, by the way.”
He pauses mid-movement, his head halfway through the hoodie. “Oh really?” he asks, a playful smile tugging at his lips. He finishes pulling the hoodie over his head, his damp hair peeking out from the hood.
“I always admired you whenever we had hookups back then each time made me fall more in love with you” I admited. Matt steps closer to me, standing between my knees. He reaches down and gently tilts my chin up, forcing me to meet his gaze. “Is that so?”he murmurs.
I nod, my heart racing in my chest. Matt's eyes sparkle with amusement as he leans in, his smirk against my lips. “Good thing you'll be seeing me more often now, so admire how much you want,” he teases, his warm breath fanning over my face.
I can feel his smile against my lips, and I'm drowning in his eyes. “More often?” I repeat, my voice barely above a whisper. Matt nods, his lips brushing against mine gently. “A lot more often,” he whispers back, his hands resting on my knees.
“Because you're mine now,” Matt says, his voice low and possessive. “Something I should've said a long time ago.” His grip on my knees tightens, pulling me closer to him. “And I won't be so blind this time.”
I gasp softly at his words, and Matt takes advantage, pressing his lips to mine in a searing kiss. His hands slide from my knees to my thighs, his touch firm and gentle. I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him closer as our kiss deepens.
We break apart, our breaths heavy and entwined. Matt rests his forehead against mine, his eyes fluttering shut. “Let's get some sleep,” he murmurs, his voice hoarse. He steps back, releasing his hold on me, and offers me his hand. “Come on.”
As we're settling into bed, the door to Matt's room bursts open. “Matt, what did I tell you about leaving the weed out?!” Chris, exclaims, storming into the room. Matt groans, flopping back onto his pillow.
As Chris is about to launch into another lecture, he notices I was there with Matt. “Y/N… nice seeing you back around here. Did my dumbass brother apologize for what he did?” he asks, crossing his arms. Matt groans louder.
“Yeah, he did,” I responded. “Don't worry, if he hadn't, you wouldn't be seeing me anywhere near this house.” Matt grumbles something under his breath. Chris smirks. “Good, thought I was going to lose my best friend because my shitty brother can’t think about anyone’s feelings except his own”
Chris says, still smirking. “Glad to see you two worked things out.” He starts to leave the room, then pauses at the doorway. “And Matt?”
Matt looks over at him. “Don't leave the weed out if you're going to be fucking for so long, guessing that’s what you both did to make up” Chris says, wagging his eyebrows suggestively.
Matt sits up and glares at Chris. “Chris, get the fuck out!” he yells. “Alright alright no need to yell it’s 5 in the morning, Goodnight or should I say Goodmorning.” And with that, he pulls the door shut behind him. Matt looks over at me, rolling his eyes.
I look back at Matt, stunned. “We fucked for two hours?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper. Matt chuckles, pulling me back into his arms. “It would seem so,” he says, nuzzling my neck.
I sigh contentedly, my hands finding their way into Matt's hair as we drift off to sleep. His breathing evens out, and his body relaxes around mine. Outside, the birds begin to sing, signaling the start of a new day.
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a/n: THANK YOU FOR 300 FOLLOWERS!!
THIS IS A MORE LONGER ONE-SHOT THAN MY OTHERS
SO I HOPE YOU ENJOYED
I APPRECIATE YOU ALL THANK YOU AGAIN !!!
— 𝑮𝑯𝑶𝑺𝑻 ♡︎
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alieinthemorning · 3 days
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How’s It Hanging, Beautiful? [Ace Trappola]
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Content: Fluff, Established Relationship, Reader-Insert
Pronouns: None
Remaster of: “You’re so beautiful.” | Ace Trappola [400 Follower Event]
Reblogs: Let me know that you enjoy my work and want to see more, so don’t forget to like and reblog (and comment in the tags. I love seeing people’s rambles in the tags)!
This work’s concepts, plot and original characters are my own which means I do not allow any sort of creative theft nor do I allow my work to be entered into any sort of A.I. bots. Thank you for respecting my space and boundaries.
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Ace wouldn’t say that he wasn’t a morning person, but instead a deep sleeper. Usually, it’d take a lot to rouse him from sleep. However, there was one thing that could always get him up, no matter what. 
And that was the smell of Sunday morning breakfast. 
Saliva was pooled in his mouth before he even opened his eyes. He swallowed it as the rest of his body followed the lead of his taste buds. He stretched (carefully, he didn’t want to get a cramp), letting out a satisfying groan. Then he sat up, eyes finally opening to the dimly lit room. 
You were not there beside him or lingering in the room, but that made sense since you had to be the one cooking. What was odd was that Grim was nowhere to be found, but maybe today was his lucky day, and you’d give him some extras (when would he learn that he’d only get anything if he’d actually help). Shaking his head, he grabbed his phone, and headed for the bathroom. 
After fixing his rough bed head and rinsing his mouth out, Ace made his way downstairs to join you and Grim in the kitchen. You must have gotten up earlier than usual today because breakfast was almost done.
“Come on! Lemme just have a little—” Grim’s paw was reaching toward the bowl of strawberries, but you quickly swatted it. 
“Let it alone. Go take your seat.” You didn’t even bat an eye.
Grim huffed, hopped off the stool, and retreating to the dining room. 
Ace didn’t bother with teasing him, and instead honed in on you. 
“Morning.” His arms wrapped around your waist. 
You turned in his arms, “Morning, sleeping beauty.” You pecked the underside of his chin. 
He returned your kiss with one on your forehead. “You coulda woke me up, you know…” 
“Yeah, but I like watching you drool.” 
Ace pulled back, “I do not drool.” 
You simply smiled as you picked up the plate of pancakes. “Time to set the the table.” 
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Sundays were lazy days, most of the time the three of you would just stay huddled up in bed all day after breakfast. Today was no different, except for Grim leaving to follow the sun (he was an expert sunbather, after all).  
Ace was a deep sleeper, but for some reason something pulled him from his sleep. And he was forever thankful for it. 
You were turned toward him (you were facing away from him when you fell asleep, you’re such a wild sleeper), mouth slightly open (no drool, damn it), lashing gently resting against dark circles. His thumb brushed against your lower lid. He should talk to Crowley about lessening your load. 
“How’s it hanging, beautiful?” 
Ace jolted, not expecting you to speak, let alone be awake. 
But then he smiled, “Not much, what’s going on with you, beautiful?”
“Just admiring you.”
“Crazy, me too.” 
You both laughed at yourselves,
and the beauty of your relationship.
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Happy Birthday, Ace!
And now that I've said that, time for a serious end note lol
Sooooooo on the 9/1/24, I had emergency gallbladder surgery! And now I'm having an emergency hysterectomy (Tomorrow lol)! Originally, my appointment was in November, but after another trip to the ER they finally realized that bleeding for 6 months straight actually isn't normal, and something should be done about it!
So, yeah, I'm gonna be out of commission (again)! Which, I've barely been posting anyway, but I've also been in excruciating pain for the past six months, sooo yeah!
I'll see yeah when I see y'all!
Ko-Fi | Masterlist
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Crash Course
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Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3
word count: 822
pairing: Lando Norris x driver!reader
summary: Y/n returns to the paddock after recovering from her injuries, and Lando confronts her with his growing feelings
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The days following the crash were a blur for Y/n, filled with recovery sessions and endless interviews about the accident. The media buzzed with speculation, talking more about the rivalry between her and Lando than about the championship itself. Everyone wanted to know if the tension between them had reached a breaking point.
But Y/n couldn’t stop thinking about what Lando had said. His confession kept replaying in her mind, stirring something she hadn’t allowed herself to feel before. She kept pushing it aside, trying to focus on her recovery and the upcoming races, but it lingered in the back of her thoughts, persistent and confusing.
A few days later, Y/n was back at the paddock, still moving a little stiffly but determined to show everyone she was ready to race again. She walked through the garage, her team bustling around her, making sure everything was in place for the next practice session.
As she sat down to review some data, she felt a presence behind her before she heard the voice.
“Back so soon?” Lando’s voice was light, but she could hear the edge of concern behind it.
Y/n glanced over her shoulder, seeing him leaning casually against the wall, hands in his pockets. He looked relaxed, but his eyes were studying her closely, as if assessing whether she was really okay.
“Did you expect me to stay away?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “I can’t let you have all the fun, can I?”
Lando smirked, pushing off the wall and walking closer. “Just making sure you’re not pushing yourself too hard.”
“I’m fine,” Y/n insisted, though the slight wince as she shifted in her seat betrayed her.
Lando noticed, his eyes narrowing slightly. “You sure about that?”
Y/n sighed, rolling her eyes. “You sound like my doctor.”
“Maybe I should be,” he teased, but there was an underlying sincerity in his tone. “Look, I just… I don’t want to see you get hurt again.”
Y/n paused, the playful banter between them losing its edge. There it was again—that concern, that softness. She wasn’t used to this version of Lando, and it made her feel off-balance.
“Why do you care so much?” she asked quietly, looking up at him.
Lando hesitated, his playful smile fading. He glanced around to make sure no one was within earshot before sitting down on the chair next to hers. “Because I meant what I said, Y/n. After the crash, when you almost collapsed… I realized how much I care. More than I probably should.”
Her heart skipped a beat, the air around them growing thick with tension. “Lando…”
“I know we’re rivals,” he continued, his voice low and serious. “And we’re both fighting for the championship, but… that doesn’t change how I feel.”
Y/n’s pulse quickened, her thoughts racing. This was happening—he was actually saying it, putting into words what had been unspoken between them for so long. She opened her mouth to respond, but no words came out. How could she explain the way she felt, when she wasn’t even sure herself?
Seeing her hesitation, Lando sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Look, I get it. This is complicated. And if you don’t feel the same way, we can forget it—”
“No,” Y/n interrupted, her voice firm. She took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts. “It’s not that. I just… I’ve been so focused on beating you, on proving I’m the best, that I didn’t stop to think about anything else.”
Lando’s eyes softened, a glimmer of hope flickering in his expression. “And now?”
Y/n looked at him, the weight of her feelings settling in her chest. “Now, I’m starting to realize there’s more to this than just the rivalry.”
For a moment, they sat in silence, the noise of the paddock fading into the background as they looked at each other, a silent understanding passing between them. The tension that had always existed between them was still there, but it had changed—shifted into something neither of them had expected.
Lando leaned in slightly, his voice barely above a whisper. “So… what now?”
Y/n swallowed hard, her heart racing. She knew they couldn’t just flip a switch and change everything. They were still competitors, still fighting for the same title. But maybe—just maybe—they could be something more, too.
“I guess we see what happens,” she replied softly, her eyes locking with his.
Lando’s lips curled into a small smile. “I like the sound of that.”
Before they could say anything else, Y/n’s team called her over for a briefing. She stood up, feeling Lando’s eyes on her as she turned to leave. Just before she walked away, she glanced back at him, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips.
Maybe this wasn’t the end of their rivalry—but it could be the beginning of something else. Something that neither of them had been prepared for, but now seemed impossible to ignore.
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Hii! I just found your works and I am IN LOVEEEE OMGGG 🫶🫶
I’m not too good at requesting these things, but could I ask for a Logan Howlett x short! AFAB reader?
I’m 4’11 and haven’t grown since sophomore year of high school, and everyone I know comments on it in every sort of way, and usually in a demeaning, teasing kind of way. (Like, going out of their way to make fun of me and stuff I can’t do, or how they can’t take me seriously). And no one listens to me when I tell them that it’s starting to hurt my feelings or be annoying lol
It can be a full fic or just a couple HC’s, up to you!!! Please take your time and don’t forget to take care of yourself 🫶
YES OFC I wish I got more asks bru
Anyway thank you
Tw ⚠ : short reader, afab reader, sexual tension, sexual talking, protective logan, masturbation (f),
You lay in you bed not wanting to go downstairs, logan had been gone for days on a mission for Xavier to find another mutant and she had to sub for Storm because because there both gone.
Logan was supposed to call you after class so you reluctantly got up got dressed and went downstairs to the classroom, you always hated leaving your room without Logan he was practically your bodyguard because of how some of the other girls treated you because of your hight you are 4'11 after all and they always told you she looked like a kid but when logan stepped in they left you alone.
There was even a time when you almost threw the girl into the fountain for bullying her but logan put a stop to it ever since then he always took a liking to you.
You made it to the classroom with no run-ins land waited for your students to show up for class you were teaching how to control your powers with mind, body and soul.
Storm is better then me with children
You thought to yourself as the kids started walking in, you waved at them as they took there seats and began your lesson.
After you were done you got a call from logan.
"Hey bub." He talked into the phone, you looked down at the floor wishing he was here instead.
"I'm really hungry,but the kids were fine," you walked back to your room. "And I miss you when will you be back?"
He looked around the hotel. "Me and the others should be back tomorrow afternoon." You laid in bed and looked at his side.
"I want you so bad loagn I wish you were here with me," he regretted taking this mission knowing it would be stressful for you. "Touching me, and telling me I'm yours." You moaned into the phone.
His pants tightened thinking of you laying on your bed waiting for him.
"Trust me honey I'll be there soon enough, now sit and be a good girl for me when I get back I love you." He hung up the phone after your goodbyes
And you sat there trying to fall asleep but after three hours you just gave up, you couldn't stop thinking about Logan and the way he would have gotten you to sleep, rubbing your back and your thighs.
I wonder what he would do to me right now ?
You thought to yourself as you rubbed your inner thigh, your hand had other plans when it started rubbing your clit thinking about him
You picked up your phone to call him and see if he's awake, turns out he was
"Logan." You moaned, he could here the wet sounds from the other end of the line.
"Y/n you need to go to bed, I can't talk there gonna here you." He quietly yelled at you.
"No please I need you now loagn I can't wait any longer." You mewled.
"Y/n please you need to wait So i can actually fuck you." Logan couldn't lie the thought of you playing with yourself was making him hard but he had to control himself or he was gonna wake up Storm.
Your orgasm was coming, and he knew it. "Baby, I want you inside me, please." You begged as you came over the phone.
He hated when you did this sometimes you always got what you wanted when you called him like this and he wasn't gonna just let you tease him he wants to touch you but your not here and he's gonna put a stop to it.
"Y/n stop calling me horny when you know I can't touch you like I want, your teasing me your gonne be the death of me." He hung up the phone.
You gasped not believing he just hung up the phone on you like that.
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
Ok how do we feel about me writing logan I love hugh jackman and I was waiting for something like this should I make a part two?
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sitp-recs · 2 days
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Between the Power Lines by @tackytigerfic (M, 3k)
For Harry Potter, all roads eventually lead to Draco Malfoy. Or: this is not an AU! It's just Harry and Draco meeting by chance in an imported food shop in Connecticut and going on a road trip together. Featuring motels, cacti, Americana, and a hefty dose of pining.
In New Orleans, they got drunk on Bourbon Street, and Malfoy danced on his own (arms bare, laughing; Harry could have watched him all night) and later on, so late it was almost morning, they let themselves into the St Louis Cemetery—Malfoy unpicking the lock so sweetly—and walked around until the sky was pink-edged with the promise of another day’s heat. Then they sat on the steps of a crypt, watched over by sightless eyes of the statue of an angel. She looked exhausted rather than sad, Harry thought, and that made a lot of sense when he thought about his own longstanding, dull-edged grief.
It’s been ages (or 2 years) since I last wrote a rec for Tacky (I usually write for other readers, except when I’m reccing friends - then I write for them) and their birthday was the perfect excuse to put my reccing muscles back to work. I almost bailed out because I know this is one of T’s own faves and “what if I don’t do it justice?” but that tired angel banner has been sitting in my drafts for 3 long years and it deserves a proper rec!
Where to even begin? Anyone who knows Tacky is aware of their superb prose - rich and nuanced, compassionate, effortlessly funny, with a strong sense of place and a soft spot for suds scenes and filthy m-rated sex I mean devastating romance. Their writing breathes heart and personality, very much like Tacky themself. So knowing that this fic came out exactly as they intended it to should be enough to make you go read this right now, but in case you need further incentive, see below all the reasons why this oneshot is so special to me:
1. The *vibes*: if you thought that 3k is nowhere near enough to build the sexiest, most intriguing Americana atmosphere you’ve seen, think again. The aesthetics are impeccable here, decorating the beautiful and strange landscape - cacti and cheap motels included - into something peaceful and desolate, an overarching melancholy making it even more compelling. The dialogue is brilliant but the silences are just as loud and meaningful, with a quiet intimacy and a dreamlike quality that make you feel as if you're intruding a memory.
2. The romance: at this point everyone and their dog know that pining!Harry is Tacky's jam - they luxuriate in making us all suffer with him until the realization that Draco has been loving him back all along slaps us in the face. Harry is so stupid and desperate and wanton, I love it. And the way Tacky reinvents this delicious trope to make it work in new angsty ways blows my mind. Imo the slow burn is particularly effective here, a feat in any 3k story, because the narrative gives us so much character insight. We learn all the little things that make these two lonely boys tick as we watch their ever-changing perception of each other evolve from a tentative truce to reluctant confidants to a comfortable, easy love that comes naturally and earned. We often get those bits of information from imagery and emotions alone, no dialogue needed, and a road trip is the best way to explore those dynamics in a smooth, unhurried pace.
3. The journey: this is truly an immersive journey, not only physical as we keep jumping from one destination to the next, but also emotional, as we learn more about their vulnerabilities and desires the more they gravitate towards each other. This story shows that being far away from home can be both freeing and grounding, when you’re stuck with your hot enemy someone who knows about your darkest hour. It gives you the chance to heal and visualize a different future without forgetting your past or letting go of that which has shaped who you are. I love their chance encounter and how this poignant 30k love story is told in such impressive economy of words.
TL;DR: if you’re a short form fan and prone to melancholy like me believe me when I say it doesn’t get any better than this. The whole road trip shebang mixing grief, romance and nostalgia wrapped in Tacky’s lush writing is a gift to any reader and an elegant work of art. Enjoy!!!
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miridiums-writing · 2 days
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Hey could you write like a Thranduil x y/n thing? I kinda need it right now.
No Escape
Thranduil x reader fan fic
Imagine : If only you didn’t look so similar to his passed wife, maybe you could have made it out of the elven kingdom with the others.
Authors note : im sorry ive been gone so long, im back now though I promise. Ill set up a new masterlist and we can all forget my old works don’t exist because I hate them all.
The forest was so dark, you and the rest of the company trying to navigate through the winding trails. It was all going fine and well until you all realized you were gong in continuous circles. Seeing the same trees, the same oddly shaped rocks over and over that you all realized something was wrong. “lets just set up camp for now and try again tomorrow.” You insisted, noticing the frustration of the others. “Fine,” Thorin conceded. “We get out of here tomorrow though, we have to keep pushing forwards.”
With that you all settled down for the night, you went off to gather some wood for a fire with Bilbo, unsurprisingly your favourite of the company given how down to earth he was, plus the pure entertainment factor he brought to the group at times due to his cushioned upbringing. “Do you think we actually will get out tomorrow?” Bilbo asked, clearly more worried if that could be the case than he let on. “’course we will, we’ve gotten this far haven’t we?” You reassured, patting the top of Bilbo’s head in hopes of calming his anxiety. “I suppose so.” He mused, adding another stick to the bundle you had already gathered. “Exactly,” You said with a warm smile. “Nothing left to bring us down now except the dragon.” Bilbo seemed to grimace at this. “Don’t remind me” He grumbled. You just laughed lightly. “You’re far too negative, always hope for the best, and prepare for the worst. That’s why you’re here, you little burglar.” “I’m not a burglar.” He reminded. “Well, you’re the best we’ve got, maybe when we’re out of this forest I can help train you how to be stealthy.”
The light banter between the two is quickly cut off by a very loud thump against the forest floor, almost shaking the ground between the pair of you. You immediately dropped the pile of branches to the moss ground, breaking into a sprint back to the others, you could here them in the distance fighting when you’re path was blocked by the biggest spider you’ve ever seen in your life. It was a large black, hairy thing, immediately trying to shoot webs in your direction to catch you. Adrenalin jumped you into first gear, dodging by a hair at the first shot, and bringing your bow and arrow from your back to aim at the spider, aiming right between the eyes and firing the shot. The shot lands. The spider falls, only for three more to appear in its place. This was not going to be easy.
You reach back grabbing another arrow and letting it fly, hitting each spider as they came with pristine accuracy. Even with such accuracy though from years training, it didn’t seem to be enough. The arrows quickly started to dwindle, before running out. Not having enough time between spiders to scavenge for your arrows, leaving you eventually cornered, and empty handed. Though just as one of the spiders went to launch itself at you it got violently thrown backwards by...an elf?
~~~~~
You couldn’t decide whether you preferred the spiders, or this. Getting dragged, cuffed, towards a rathe impressive looking castle. Not that you’d ever say that allowed, in fear of further angering Thorin who already looked like he was plotting the elves deaths in detail, shouting, swearing and struggling as he went. You kept your head down, not sure what was about to happen, but not wanting to anger the elves, especially after they went out of their way to save their lives. Even if it meant they’d ended up getting dragged to the dungeons. You had graciously been given a cell alone. Given you were the only woman in the group it seemed only fair. You got yourself comfy against the wall, listening to the others chat amongst themselves on what to do, waiting for a quiet moment to bring up what felt like the most important thing to worry about. “Where is Bilbo?” You said, cutting through the whispers. The others immediately went silent at that. He wasn’t among them, you hadn’t seen him since before the spiders. “Maybe he’s doing what he does best, burgling the keys.” Baldin grunted. You just hoped he was right.
All talk of escape was cut off by guards coming down, leading Thorin from his cell to meet the king. When the dungeon door closed behind them all of you sighed. If Thorin was angry, which he was, all hope of doing this civilly was going to be immediately snuffed out by his rage. The wait for Thorin to come back was long, and silent. Talk of escape had died completely as you all waited tensely for him to return. And return he did. His eyebrows furrowed in rage, cursing under his breath as he was pushed back into his cell resulting in a loud bang as his body collided with the floor. No words needed to be spoken for them to know it hadn’t gone well. The already depressing reality hit like a train. Unless a miracle happened. This was it.
~~~~~~~
You woke up the next morning to banging against the bars of your cell. You were crumpled against the wall, your back strained from the position you’d slept in. “Get up.” The guard said gruffly, starting to poke you with the sheathed sword to fully wake you up. “Get up!” The demanded again, much more aggressively than previously. You slowly started more your cramped body up off of the floor. The cell door opened and two guards immediately grabbed your arms ad started dragging you out of the dungeon to who knows where. The walk was long and winding, it felt like they were taking you on a confusing route on purpose to make sure you didn’t know the way out. Or maybe the halls really were this confusing, who knows. Either way you eventually arrived at a rather impressive looking door. Large green wooden panels made up the door with large tree roots encasing the doors, twirling around the doors handles.
Someone from the other side opened the doors leading to what seemed to be a throne room, with a tall blonde haired man sat on top, a rather dramatic crown upon his head, adorned with gems and jewels to mimic a berry branch. He watched closely as you were dragged in, forced to kneel down in front of him on the ground. His expression seemed to change from mild annoyance to surprise as you got closer. Now kneeled before him, the man stood, towering over you as he stared down at your face, almost like he didn’t believe it. “Oh, it’s you” He said, relief and sadness laced his voice. His legs seemed to give out under him and kneeled down staring at your face with tears in his eyes. “Oh my dear, how I’ve missed you. I though- I thought you died.” He said, his voice cracking slightly as his hand reached for your cheek, fingertips gently grazing your cheek. You stared at him blankly. Not a flicker of recognition behind your eyes as he acted as if you were supposed to know him. Confusion took over his features at your lack of response. “Calatheil? My blossom, why are you acting like you don’t know me?” Now it was your turn to be confused, “That’s not my name, I’m (Y/N).” You said in response. The man went quiet after that, staring holes into the floor. “But you look like her.” He said, his voice firm, like it was a fact. “That doesn’t mean I am her”
The man went silent again for a moment, anger passing over his face before disappearing. “Of course it does,” He said. “You’ve just forgotten is all.” His words were firm and absolute. “Ill just need to remind you, my poor wife” You looked at him as if he was insane. “But I’m not. I am not your wife, I’m sorry. But I’m not... I wanna go back to my cell now.” The man laughed without humour. “Absolutely not, my wife shouldn’t be around such vermin.” “Do you mean the dwarves?” you asked, going on the defensive, they were your friends, were they odd absolutely, but that didn’t mean you loved them any less. “Of course I do! You’ll be going no where near them ever again. Guards, take her to my room, and do not under any circumstances let her get free!” He ordered, standing up from his crouched position and heading back to his thrown. “And bring me Thorin! I may be inclined to allow his freedom under a condition.” You were once again grabbed by guards and dragged out. “No! I’d rather cells, don’t you dare, I’m not your wife! Let me go!” Your shouts died down as you were dragged further away, thrashing in an attempt of any escape, managing to get one arm free only for more guards to hold you, overpowered once more by the numbers. The struggling silenced to Thranduil as the door shut behind you.
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elronds-meleth-nin · 14 hours
Text
A Brush With...Kindness?
This idea came up in a discussion with @bigblissandlove1, so credit to you, my dear friend!! Thank you for being okay with me writing it! ILYSM! Thank you for screaming over both versions of Adar with meeee 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖 Also holy shit, this was supposed to be like...2000 words and ended up as almost 12000. 💀
Cross-posted to AO3 here.
~*~
Adar (RoP) x Reader
[A/N: This has smut, so 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI!!!]
Warnings: Mentions of violence (not discussed in detail), blood, bloodplay, threats, knives, swords, Adar in the winter, both soft!Adar and stabby!Adar, interspecies sex, Uruk/Human sex, unprotected sex, oral sex (female receiving), angst, much yearning, nudity, I feel like I'm forgetting something but I have no idea what because holy fuck this is almost 12000 words.
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~*~
I knew his face from the moment he and his Uruks flooded into our village. Pillaging and looting where they could, murdering those who fought, the Uruks caused havoc. He strode in with them, looking as serene as the Elf I'd mistaken him for when I was a child.
How lucky I'd been that he'd chosen peace all those years ago. My father was a trader who traveled between Lindon, Eregion, and several villages inhabited by Men. Between the last of those villages and the borders of Eregion, we'd stopped to make camp for the night.
While my father set up our tent and tended to the horse, he asked me to gather some small sticks for the fire. I set off to do so, but in my quest for kindling, I ended up farther away from him than I'd intended with an armload of sticks large enough to make me stagger. Just as I'd begun to turn back, there was a small rustling from behind a bush a few feet away. I turned just in time to see a figure rising to his feet.
Tall, intimidating, covered in dark, aging armor, with scars on his face stood an Ellon. I let out a small, childish sigh of relief. I'd been afraid it might be a bear or an Orc or something fearsome, but it occurred to me that the presence of an Elf must mean that we were close to Eregion.
"You should not wander alone, little one. There are Uruks lurking in this forest," he said, and I noted that he sounded strange. Most Elves had voices that flowed like silvery musical notes, but his was raspy and low, as if he'd screamed for so long that he'd hurt his throat. Maybe he was a soldier, I'd thought. After all, they shout orders all the time.
"I'm not alone," I said lifting my chin as proudly as only a child could. "My father is not far from here."
He did not look convinced, yet still he offered me a smile.
"Perhaps, then, my lady, I could help you with your load?" He asked, and as I'd never been called 'my lady' before, I was not eager to disabuse him of the notion. He relieved me of my bundle of sticks, and together we began to walk back toward the camp my father had set up. After a few moments of comfortable quiet, I posed a question.
"What is an Uruk? I've never heard of one before. The word sounds sort of like 'Orc' if you say it too quickly..." I mused, and a small smile tugged at his lips. Vaguely, I wondered if his scars hurt him, but I did not think it polite to ask. At ten years old, my father had taught me manners enough to know that if a person wanted to talk about something like that, they should be the ones to bring it up.
"An Uruk is the correct name for an Orc," the Ellon said. "The words became...confused long ago. Not many remember their real name."
Oh. Well, that made sense.
"There are two people who know, now," I said smiling up at him, and he looked at me with raised eyebrows.
"That is kind of you, my lady, but you must not use that name around the Elves. They do not take kindly to having their mistakes paraded before them," he said, and that confused me.
"But...you are–"
The crunching steps of heavy boots in the underbrush startled me, but instead of an Uruk appearing from the trees, it was just my father.
"There you are! I told you not to go too far," he said striding up to me and wrapping me in his arms. He placed a kiss atop my head and only then did he turn his gaze upon my companion. Straightening, he glared suspiciously at my new friend. "Who are you? I've never seen Elvish armor quite like that."
His tone was less than kind, and, remembering my manners, I spoke up on my friend's behalf.
"Be nice, papa! He was helping me," I said. My new friend shifted the bundle of sticks to one arm, and placed his hand over his heart, inclining his head in a respectful bow.
"I intended her no harm, sir. There are many perils in this part of the forest and I wished to ensure she would not encounter danger," he explained. "Besides, a bundle this large was certainly more than a lady of her status should have to bear."
He offered me an exaggerated, deferential bow that drew a giggle from my lips. After a mere moment's hesitation, my father invited him to our camp to keep warm, since the woods grew quite cold at night. Looking back, it was obvious that he was incredibly patient with my childish questions as the three of us settled in to pass the night. Our evening meal stretched easily between three mouths, even though our new friend said that he did not wish to diminish our supply of food. We could not simply let him starve.
I woke in the middle of the night to low, whispered voices at the treeline. Carefully, I peeked through the flaps of my tent and saw two shadowed figures around the flickers of a small lamp. One stood tall, and the other hunched over.
With my father still slumbering soundly in his bedroll, I made a decision of which he surely would have disapproved. As quietly as I could, I slipped out, sneaking through the shadows of the trees until I could just make out the face of the taller person in the lamplight.
Our Ellon friend? What was he doing out here? Shifting slightly, I caught sight of the second person and–
I nearly tripped over myself to get back to my tent. He'd been speaking in a strange rasping, mean-sounding language to an Orc - or, an Uruk, as he'd called them.
I wasn't frightened of him, despite what I'd seen. Curiosity still reigned in my mind, but I still did not relish the thought of being caught eavesdropping. The next morning, I rose quite early, only to find that our guest was already gone.
"Don't look so distressed, love," my father called from his seat beside the fire. "He left this for you along with his apologies for leaving before you woke. He said his children needed him."
He held out a small piece of dark metal. It had clearly come from his armor. Carved within it was a set of stars, inlaid with some other tarnished metal.
"He said it was the symbol of the Noldorin Kings. He thought you might appreciate it and that it might serve to remind you of the conversation the two of you had," my father explained, though he looked a bit puzzled. "What conversation did he mean, if I may ask?"
As I looked at the small metal piece, it occurred to me that if he had not told my father, then perhaps there was a reason. My father might react poorly to the word 'Uruk' like our friend said the Elves would, simply because he worked so closely with them.
"He said it was dangerous to walk alone," I said, and though it wasn't a lie, it was not the whole truth, either. I'd never had reason to lie to my father before, and I hoped I would never need to again.
That night after we rode into Eregion and settled into our chambers, by candlelight I found the second symbol. Carved onto the back of the item he'd given me, there was what looked like a three-pronged shape. A tool perhaps? A maker's mark?
I wouldn't see that shape again until many years later when Lord Adar took our village. The armor piece which I'd turned into a necklace years before hung around my neck, almost burning beneath the bodice of my dress even as I averted my eyes from our new lord's.
When the morning came, we were all herded into a line leading to steps of the tavern from which Adar was currently ruling over us. Those who refused to swear loyalty to him were summarily killed by the Uruks guarding us. When my own turn came, I dropped to my knees as all those before me had done.
Strangely, though, even as I looked up at him, I still couldn't find it within me to be afraid of him. Of death? Naturally, I was frightened, but I could not muster the same feeling regarding the Uruk lord. His eyes met mine, and his lips parted as if he recognized me.
An old man grasped my hair roughly, forcing my head down into a more subservient position.
"Do you swear allegiance to Adar, Lord Father of the Uruks?" He asked, but before I could answer either way, his tight grasp on my hair was suddenly released. "M-My lord?"
"She has already sworn for me," Adar rasped above me, and I tried not to look confused as he urged me to my feet. He reached toward me, and to my astonishment, his fingertips brushed against the pendant that had come loose from beneath the top of my dress. The one he'd given me years ago. The back with the three-pronged carving was visible because the chain had twisted. "She already wears my mark. You will not brand her, is that understood?"
"Yes, my lord," the grumpy old man said, but I could look nowhere save into the same green eyes I'd seen all those years before. I couldn't help but think about how beautiful they were.
"I shall see to the rest tomorrow, Waldreg. See that they're fed and have a place to sleep," Adar ordered. Grasping my elbow, the Lord Father of the Uruks led me away from the crowd. Once we were safely inside one of the ruined buildings, he clasped my upper arms and looked into my eyes. "I thought I told you it was dangerous to wander alone, my lady."
His voice was infinitely gentler than it had been before.
"I'm not alone," I whispered, "Not when I have you."
Looking at me with a mixture of disbelief and something far too soft to be on an Uruk Lord's face, he stepped closer and carefully rested his forehead against mine. The scent of smoke and metal, earth and wood oils surrounded me, and I recognized the scent, faint though it had been, from that day in the woods.
He muttered something in the low, guttural language that the Uruks used, and though I had no idea what he'd said, the sound of it sent my heart racing in my chest.
"I thought I'd never see you again," I admitted in a whisper, and he let out a slow, almost sad sigh.
"I had hoped that you would never have need to," Adar murmured in return. When he spoke again, he sounded almost resigned. "If you wish to leave, I can arrange safe passage for you."
I considered the possibility for a moment. My mother and father were living peacefully in Eregion, thanks to the kindness bestowed upon them by Lord Celebrimbor. I could certainly go there, but...was that what I wanted?
"And...if I wanted to stay?"
Pulling his head back just far enough to look into my eyes, Adar seemed as though he both was and was not surprised at my question.
"You would be allowed to do so, of course, but you must understand that this would be a hard life," he stated. "I cannot offer you any luxuries, not like those found in Elven territory. Mordor is new. We have very little. We have not even completed the construction of our own homes yet. Is that truly the life you want? Barely getting by on scraps of food, sleeping in the ruins of an old building?"
"I can bear it," I reassured him, and he seemed to consider my words as his fingertips once again traced the chain of my necklace.
"I will not make you swear your loyalty, my lady, but I would like your word that if at any point you feel as though this life is intolerable or overwhelming, you will tell me," he murmured as his eyes met mine again. "I would not see your light dimmed by such a place as this."
Gently, I laid my hands over his.
"You have my word, my lord," I murmured, and he nodded his head slowly.
"Then, welcome to Mordor, híril vuin."
--
She'd been different since the day they met. Oh, she was likely an average member of her species, but Adar had little personal experience with Humans beyond the occasional interaction. Her openness when she was a child had been endearing, especially since she hadn't thought him frightening or hideous. She'd accepted him as he was without question - even going so far as to protect him from her father's suspicion.
After she'd caught him speaking with Glûg in the middle of the night, ordering his children to leave her and her father be in Black Speech, however, Adar had thought that she'd have told her father what she'd seen...that he would be met with an arrow to the chest upon his return to their camp. Instead, she'd managed to sneak back unnoticed, and he'd taken his leave before she awakened.
Never did he think that one day as a grown woman - a lady - she would be forced to kneel at his feet. Not even with the threat of death looming over her was she afraid of him.
He'd never wanted her fear. When she was a child, he'd savored her curiosity, and now, as an adult, he found that he relished her gentleness and her acceptance. She'd been courteous to all of his children whom she'd encountered, even if such behavior earned scorn from the other Humans in their encampment. She never cowered. She never diminished herself to fit into the dull little boxes that the others of her species so consistently tried to force upon her. She was unique.
And Adar found himself growing ever more intrigued by her.
The winter wind whipped clothing, biting the skin and sinking bone-deep. Like most discomfort, Adar was used to it. He knew every survival method - one did not live for thousands of years without picking up a few helpful practices. His children had followed his example, but it was a bit harder for the Humans among them to find comfort.
Truly, though, the only one he cared about was his lady...his brave, determined lady. He remembered her looking up at him the better part of a year ago when she was forced to the ground before him. Curiosity and recognition was as obvious in her expression as the points on an Elf's ears.
Even after he'd taken their village, she hadn't hated him. She hadn't denied having sworn for him, even though that had been a lie he concocted to keep her safe and unblemished.
Seeing that remnant of his armor hanging from a chain around her neck had inspired more pride and awe in him than he'd felt in an Age. Adar had assumed that even if her father had given it to her, it was so small and insignificant that she wouldn't have bothered to keep track of it. But for her to have turned it into a necklace... The thought still sparked a wave of warmth in the Uruk's heart.
Had their encounter truly been that memorable to her?
As the bitter winter held the camp in its grip, residents and all, Adar walked amongst his children and sworn Human villagers alike, noting those things which were needed most. He turned a corner between rows of tents and half-built houses and paused at the sight of his lady and Glûg discussing the babe in the Uruk's arms. After a few moments, his lady let out a small laugh, and Glûg let out a rasping chuckle before departing with a small bow.
Before he could behave as if he'd been doing anything - anything at all - besides watching them, she turned and Adar's eyes met hers. Approaching without hesitation, she curtsied and greeted him with her customary 'good day, my lord.'
Dropping into his own low bow, Adar offered her his arm.
"Walk with me, if you would, my lady," he murmured, and she looped her arm with his. "How would you characterize the mood amongst your people here?"
They walked a few steps, she considering he answer, and he marveling at how easily they fit together. Having her at his side felt natural, as if that was where she was always meant to be.
"They are under strain, because of the winter temperatures. Perhaps they are a bit more frightened than usual, but nothing too serious," she replied. "They seem to have settled into their new routine along with your children quite well, considering the circumstances."
"And what of your own circumstances? What can I do to ease your burden?" He asked as they reached the door of her shelter.
"I can think of nothing, my lord." Adar did not believe that, but he did not contradict her, choosing instead to accept her invitation inside.
"Allow me at least," he said as he stepped inside, "to check your supplies. Firewood and the like."
"Of course," she murmured, waving him inside. One of the other ladies who shared her living space had already lit a fire in grate, and as soon as they saw Lord Adar walk inside, they quickly found other places to be.
Pretending to take a cursory view around the room, Adar slyly watched his lady move around, tidying up, even though the messes had clearly been created by the others. That he did not like, but that was a problem for a later date.
"Are you certain there is nothing I can do to improve your situation?" He asked, and she flashed him a smile bright enough to make his heart skip a beat.
"Nothing, whatsoever. I'm quite comfortable here," she said walking to stand with him beside the fire. He took a long, selfish moment to indulge his desire to study her face. When his desire to reach out and touch her grew so strong that he felt he might snap, he drew and released a deep breath.
"Thank you for your indulgence, my lady. I shall leave you in peace."
Adar gave her a small bow before making his way toward the door.
"Oh, wait! Please, my lord," she called, and he turned to face her. She pulled a length of cloth from a bundle, hurrying over to him.
A familiar sense of dread curled in his abdomen. He'd been betrayed before in moments of weakness - seeing her this evening was certainly a weakness. The cloth would make a suitable garrote for a person of her size to use. Steeling himself as she approached, he realized that, though he wouldn't be surprised, her betrayal would hurt more than any other had.
He met her eyes with his as she stood on the tips of her toes to wrap the cloth around his neck...but the constriction he'd been expecting never came. Instead, she tied it carefully, tucking the ends into his armor so they wouldn't flap around in the wind.
Adar's gauntlet-covered fist relaxed as his defensiveness was replaced with confusion. He was certain that he must look as utterly befuddled as he felt, but the little smile that settled upon her lips as she examined her handiwork stole his breath.
"There. That should keep you a little warmer, at least. We cannot have the Lord of Mordor freezing, now can we?" She asked when her fingers finally fell away from the chestplate of his armor. Adar found speech difficult for a long moment. She cared for his comfort?
How was one supposed to tell someone that they'd expected death's shadow only to find kindness instead? How could he possibly explain to someone like her that at the sight of a simple makeshift scarf, he'd coiled himself as tightly as a warrior preparing to be struck without a shield or sword to defend himself? She was so considerate that she would blame herself for unsettling him, he had no doubt.
No, to say nothing would be better. Perhaps...perhaps later.
Lifting her hands gently in his own, he laid soft kisses upon her knuckles. He dared not look away. Not now. This moment was crucial - whether for just him or for them both, he knew not.
"Thank you, dear lady," he breathed, and as his eyes searched hers, he saw what he normally did in her: warmth. However, this time he saw more. There was warmth, yes, but there was also gentleness, protectiveness, and a sort of satisfaction about him not tearing the scarf from his throat - he would never do such a thing. Not when it was from her.
When he finally stepped outside once more, the wind was unable to sink its frozen teeth into his neck. The fabric, worn and discolored with age, was soft, caressing his scarred skin just as he imagined her fingers would if she ever deigned to lower herself and take him as her lover.
Her generosity made him only that much more determined to find some way to make life easier for her. For nearly a week, he was kept too busy to give the matter any serious consideration, but he did have an idea.
While she was occupied, Adar slipped into her shelter. He wished to find a way to repay her for her kindness, thus his goal was to find one of her unfulfilled needs and provide for her. He was already able to ensure that she received enough food and water, and she deserved more than he could ever give her, but he was willing to try.
After a few moments of searching, he noticed the blanket in her little sleeping area. It was thin, full of holes, and practically falling apart. It was the only one he could see.
His heart clenched in his chest. She must be nearly frozen during the night, yet she had still seen fit to give him her scarf? The growing dampness of tears blurred his vision, but he blinked them away. How had she made it through the winter?
At least he could fix this for her.
Picking up the tattered blanket, he strode across the camp to find a replacement. Laying it atop a pile with other bits of cloth that needed to be repurposed, he found a stack of extra blankets. He'd already ensured that all of his children had enough to keep them warm, so one extra would not be missed.
He hastened back to her shelter, closing the door nearly silently behind him, but he quickly realized that he was not alone.
"My lord?" She called from her place beside the cold hearth. She was trying to light a fire with trembling hands. Walking over to her, Adar tucked the blanket beneath his arm and gently coaxed the flint and steel from her cold fingers.
Kneeling briefly, he struck the flint and steel once, twice, and carefully encouraged the flame to grow until a warm glow illuminated the room. When he stood again, he grasped her hands and rubbed them between his palms. He would not be content to leave her until he was certain that she would not freeze in the night.
She looked up at him in wordless wonder, and he knew for certain that his own expression had to be similar.
"Thank you, my lord," she said in barely a whisper, and in reply, he unfolded the blanket he'd brought. Though it was not nearly as soft as someone like her deserved, he knew it would hold the heat much better than her old one. Adar draped it around her shoulders, and, sweet trusting thing that she was, she made no protest about his proximity, nor did she flinch when the backs of his knuckles caressed her cheek.
She looked from him, to the blanket, and back again. Without warning, she sprang forward, wrapping her arms around his middle, but where he usually expected the bite of a dagger after such an impact, he found only comfort. He realized that she...was embracing him.
He looked down at her, only to find his nose now buried in her hair. Her scent! He'd smelled it before, but to have her this close...it was intoxicating. Carefully bracing his hands on her waist, he leaned down a little farther. The tip of his nose brushed against her warm neck, and he could almost smell her pulse racing beneath her skin.
His nose must've been cold, for that small movement was enough to startle her into leaping back. His fëa, dark and fractured as it was, wept at the loss of her, even though she'd only been in contact with him for a moment.
It had been so long since he'd been held like that.
Alarm settled into her expression and she began stammering apologies. Her new blanket slipped from one shoulder, and without a word, Adar stepped toward her and pulled it back into place.
Her voice dropped away as she realized what he was doing. His hands laid lightly upon her shoulders, sliding slowly upward until he was able to cup cup her cheeks carefully between his scarred fingers. Her eyes, now wide with wonder rather than fear, looked up at him.
"You have done nothing which warrants an apology, my lady," Adar murmured giving her small smile. She was so beautiful, so fragile compared to him. He would risk no injury coming to her. Not even the discomfort of the abating cold; slowly, their breaths became less visible as the fire grew in the hearth. "Why did you not tell me about the state of your blanket?"
"I did not wish to trouble you, my lord," she answered sheepishly. "I had already requested a replacement from the head of the Men in our section, but I was told I'd have to speak with Waldreg. Given my previous encounters with him, I...decided that the cold was preferable."
Disquiet twisted within him. Waldreg was distasteful enough without having caused his lady trouble. He was quite certain he'd tear the little worm of a Man limb from limb with a grin on his lips if he dared harm his lady.
Adar would have to speak with him about that.
"Has he mistreated you?" He tried to keep his tone as steady as possible, but a slight edge still managed to creep in.
"He expressed a few less than polite sentiments, but no more. It is not a crime for him to dislike me, my lord," she said, but her attempt to calm his ire only made him angrier on her behalf. Would she not express her anger even at someone as wretched and cruel as Waldreg?
"In future, come directly to me. You need not be afraid. I would be pleased to assist you, my lady," he promised, and his heart stuttered as she nodded her head.
As soon as he left her shelter, he sought Waldreg. The miserable little rat had much to answer for.
--
As the winter winds began to wane, I found myself increasingly glad of Lord Adar's kindness. Not shivering through the night was a pleasant change. I'd thought that after our conversation he seemed rather tense, but thus far I had seen no results.
However, as I returned from harvesting a small bunch of mushrooms for the soup that night, a vicelike grip clamped around my arm, tugging me off balance and dragging me into the small, dark alleyway between two repurposed buildings.
A hand covered my mouth just as a knifepoint pressed cold and unyielding against my racing pulse.
"You vicious little bitch," a familiar voice snarled against my ear. "What lies did you tell him? How did you make him hate me?"
I whimpered in fear but dared not move for fear of the sharp steel at my throat.
"'You will not treat my children or those pledged to me with disrespect,' he said. He's had me shoveling shit in the kennels for weeks, and word around camp is that he only came to me after speaking with you!" Waldreg sounded furious, and, indeed, I could detect the lingering scent of the wargs' leavings clinging to my attacker and his clothing. The more agitated he grew, the more his hands shook. Pain pricked my skin, and a hot red tear trickled down my neck staining the neckline of my dress. "What'd you do? Lift your skirt for him? Whisper in those ragged little ears of his? Give me one good reason I shouldn't gut you here and feed you to the wargs."
I began struggling in earnest, but his anger kept his grip tight. Still his hand covered my mouth, preventing any attempts at speech. A cruel laugh trickled across my ears, and he dragged his knife downwards until it rested directly above my heart.
"I thought not." I tried to cringe away, but that accomplished nothing save fueling the cruel old bastard's amusement as tears rolled down my cheeks. "Say goodnight!"
Instead of the bite of a blade, however, I was abruptly released. A gurgling sound came from behind me, and when I turned, I saw Lord Adar's gauntlet-covered hand lifting Waldreg off the ground by his throat. The cold glare on the Uruk's face revealed not a single mite of mercy for the Man thrashing in his grasp.
"My lady, go inside. I will join you in a moment," Adar called, and after a single shocked blink, I rushed off to do as he'd ordered. My basket lay in the mud, entirely forgotten amongst the chaos. A small crowd of Uruks had gathered around to witness Waldreg's demise and jeer at him, but I couldn't stay.
As terrible as he was, I didn't want to. Trembling, I closed the door after myself and stumbled toward my sleeping space. Quickly wrapping the blanket Adar had given me around my shoulders, I tried to steady my breathing instead of listening to the commotion outside.
I had no idea how long I'd been sitting there when the crowd fell silent and the door finally opened. Terrified that Waldreg had somehow survived and was coming to seek his revenge, I backed into the corner beside the hearth and tried to stay as small as possible.
I had no weapons with which to fight. Hiding would be my only chance to survive, especially if Adar had not been able to stop him.
--
"My lady?" Adar's voice called gently into the space, though he saw no sign of her. He spotted a small movement from the far side of the hearth. Why was she hiding? Her eyes were wide and fearful, even as he approached.
Suddenly her assertion about Waldreg expressing 'a few less than polite sentiments, but no more' felt grossly incorrect. If she was this frightened, he must've threatened her.
Adar hoped that she heard him screaming his apologies before his death.
Or...could it be that he'd finally managed to frighten her with his cruelty? That thought sent a bolt of icy dread through him.
Dropping silently to his knees beside her, he unclipped his gauntlet and dropped it beside him. He wouldn't dare touch her while wearing it after it had touched that scum, not without cleaning it first. He offered her his hand, afterwards, and she accepted it without hesitation.
She needed no coaxing to come to him, shuffling over and resting before him on her knees with her blanket still around her shoulders.
"You need not fear, my lady. He will haunt your steps no more," he murmured, and the relieved little sniffle that escaped her had Adar moving closer and gently brushing her tears away with the pads of his thumbs.
His skin was rough, but he was careful. He didn't want to hurt her, or for her to fear him. She had every right to after she'd seen him lifting Waldreg off the ground in the midst of his rage. He certainly would not blame her, but he did not want that. If ever she shrank away from him as she'd tried to do from that contemptible worm earlier, he thought his heart may shatter irreparably.
So, with the most soothing tone he could muster - one he'd not used in over an Age - he placed a gentle kiss upon her brow and spoke.
"You are safe with me, híril vuin. None shall raise a hand to you again." Carefully, he pulled the edge of the blanket away just far enough to see the small trail of dried blood from where she'd been cut. Regret was as foul upon his tongue as bile.
He should have found them sooner. Moving away only long enough to fetch a pitcher of water and a cloth, Adar sat close to her upon his return. He began to wipe her skin clean in slow, careful strokes, murmuring quiet, earnest praise for how brave she'd been and for trusting him to help her.
She rested her cheek upon his shoulder as he set the cloth aside, prompting him instinctively to wrap his arms around her and brace his chin atop her head.
"Thank you, my lord," she breathed, and he was acutely aware of his own heart racing in his chest. Could she hear its rhythm even with the chestplate of his armor in the way?
As he began to tell her that he'd done no more than his duty, the door to her shelter opened, revealing the three other ladies who shared the small space with her. Adar grated at the interruption, despite their low curtsies as soon as they caught sight of him holding his lady in his arms.
"Sleep elsewhere tonight," he ordered them, and once they'd departed, he let out a tense breath. Speaking then to his lady, he softened his tone once more. "Tomorrow, I shall have you moved to chambers befitting one of your station."
She blinked beautifully up at him, dampness clinging to her lashes like dewdrops in the early morn.
"'My station,' my lord?"
A slow smile stretched his lips.
"Indeed. If you are to serve at the right hand of the Lord of Mordor, you cannot be seen huddling in the corner of a ruined shack."
Her eyes went wide, and her lips parted in a near-silent gasp.
"A-At your right hand?"
He nodded his head in confirmation.
"Assuming that such a thought appeals to you, of course," he said, but the smile that lit up her face told him all that he needed to know about her enthusiasm.
--
The next morning, I awoke wrapped in Lord Adar's arms and the blanket he'd given me. I should've felt embarrassment, but I could muster no more than a groggy sense that I was exactly where I was meant to be.
As soon as we managed to peel ourselves from the ground, we gathered my meager possessions, and Adar led me to the tavern. He had ruled from there since day one, but I hadn't been aware until that moment that he'd been living there as well. I supposed that his choice made sense. The upper level was where the owner used to live, having the benefit of a bedroom and a small bathing room complete with a claw-foot tub.
"Unless you object, we shall be sharing the bedroom," he explained as we climbed the creaky wooden staircase. "I'm afraid that there was little more than a musty mattress here to begin with, so I'll have a second bedroll brought up today. If there is anything you require once you have settled in, please do not hesitate to tell me."
"Thank you, my lord," I replied, and as I set myself up on one side of the room directly across from his own sleeping area, one of his children called him away to handle a conflict on the other side of the camp.
Late that night, I walked into the small communal area where Lord Adar sat by the fire, gazing into its depths as if it held the answers to all of his questions. Not wishing to disturb his thoughts, I began to move away, but a quiet call of my name in that deliciously raspy voice of his froze me in place.
"Is everything to your satisfaction, my lady?" He called, and I turned to find his gaze already fixed on me.
"Yes, my lord," I murmured, "thank you for allowing me to stay here."
"The pleasure is mine. Come, warm yourself by the fire," he offered, and I dropped to my knees on the furs beside him. We sat in companionable silence for a while with only the crackling of the fire in the grate reaching our ears. "Something troubles you, does it not?"
I nodded my head and he tilted his head beside me.
"Tell me." Despite his soft tone, the command made me bite my lip.
"I...My lord, given the new position with which you have honored me, I believe it..." I stumbled over the words, eventually taking a deep breath to compose myself. "Would it not be inappropriate for me to continue in this particular role without having sworn my loyalty to you?"
The question came out in a breathless rush, but Adar either did not notice over the hissing of the fire or he was too polite to comment upon it.
"So far as all the others are concerned, you did so before we ever took your village." His eyes skimmed the length of my face as he spoke. "As you will recall, I promised you that I would not force you to do so."
"And you have kept to your word," I began. "I have not felt coerced. I offer my loyalty to you freely."
Adar sat up straighter and drew in a sharp breath.
"You only need do so if you truly wish for us to be bound," he said placing his hand softly atop mine where it rested amongst the furs. His eyes searched mine as if trying to determine whether I was serious.
"I'm certain, my lord," I said, and he, apparently finding what he was looking for, gave a solemn nod of his head.
"Very well. As with your kin, Black Speech is not a language known to you, thus I will not require your vow in that tongue," he murmured, and I couldn't stop the question that fell from my lips.
"Would it be possible to learn at some point?"
Adar smiled, a mix of pride and surprise playing across his features in the glowing, flickering light of the fire.
"I shall teach you personally, híril vuin," he promised, and his expression became more serious. "Have you ever sworn loyalty to another?"
"No, my lord."
"Do you recall the words being spoken during the oaths of fealty given by your people?"
"Yes, my lord." I bowed my head, intending to show my respect in that manner, but warm, gentle fingers grasped my chin and lifted my head back up. Adar's gaze met my own, and unless the firelight was deceiving me, I saw a soft sort of affection swimming in his eyes as he looked at me.
"Before all else, I wish you to swear that you will never bow to me unless I explicitly give you the order to do so," he rasped as his thumb brushed over my lower lip.
"I swear it, my lord. I will not bow to you unless you give me the order to do so." Having extracted that promise, he seemed satisfied to allow me to continue as I had been. His fingers fell away from my chin only to grasp my own and lay them atop his chest where beneath his heart lay beating. "I hereby swear my allegiance to you, Adar, Lord-Father of the Uruks, founder of the land of Mordor...and protector of mortal children silly enough to wander the forest alone. This I pledge from until the last breath leaves my body."
Adar listened with something akin to wonder in his eyes, and when I finished, his eyes strayed down to my lips. But...something seemed off.
"Is...something amiss, my lord? I could always use different words, if you prefer...?"
He shook his head quietly.
"There was no fault in your diction."
"Then...what troubles you?" I asked, unconsciously repeating his own words from earlier. He shifted before me, as if he was bothered by what he was about to say. Regretful, perhaps?
"An oath means little on its own," Adar murmured unsheathing a small knife that he'd apparently concealed upon his person. "Only blood can bind."
Whose blood did he mean? Did he want me to use it on myself? Did he wish to use it on me? Or did he want me to use it on us both?
An idea struck me, and I grasped my necklace in the palm of my left hand. Carefully, I set his knife aside, guiding his gauntlet-covered hand over mine. Looking into his eyes, I felt the unyielding metal dig into the soft skin of my hand. Without warning, I squeezed his hand, which in turn forced the sharp, ancient metal deep enough into my skin to draw blood. As comprehension dawned in his eyes, his pupils dilated, and something resembling hunger turned his gaze into a blazing flame boring into me.
His hand released mine long enough for the pendant to fall from my grasp, and when he turned my palm upwards, twin gashes welled with blood. Swallowing heavily, Adar lifted my hand, and as his lips met crimson, his eyes sought mine.
A gasp tumbled from my throat as his tongue lapped slowly at my skin, just barely grazing the inner edges of the two weeping cuts. It stung, of course, but the pain combined with such a ravenous stare from the Uruk lord sent a wave of heat rushing between my legs.
A breathy, wanton whimper escaped me, and in a blink, I found myself on my back atop the furs with my lord straddling my hips. He pressed my bleeding palm against his cheek, and, bracing his free hand on the floor beside my head, Adar placed a line of fiery kisses along the column of my throat from hollow to chin with his blood-drenched lips.
I'd wanted him to look at me like this, to touch me and desire me like this, from the moment we were reunited, and now that he was, it was as though my very soul had been lit aflame. I wanted everything he wished to give me, and then some.
Before his mouth had the chance to claim mine, however, there was a rough knock on the door. Adar pulled back a few inches, and we stared into each other's eyes, panting together as reality sank back in and a second knock sounded.
"I think you ought to retire for the night, my lady," he rasped laying a final kiss upon my palm before getting to his feet. My blood was a dark red streak upon his face, but he seemed not to care. He called for whoever was at the door to wait a moment, taking the time to help me to my feet and bidding me goodnight before seeing to our caller. His lips were still the deep red shade of the life flowing through my mortal veins.
I hurried up the stairs to our shared sleeping space before I could see who'd interrupted us. With a quick glance into the cracked fragment of a mirror stowed in the corner of the room, I saw a sloppy, red trail where Adar's lips had been.
I didn't bother to clean it off before I crawled into my bedroll, choosing instead to slip my fingers beneath my smallclothes as I recalled the feeling of him doing as he wished with me. With a broken, muffled whine of his name against my blanket, I found completion, but a part of me wondered how much more satisfying it would have been had his fingers been in place of mine.
--
The next fortnight felt as though it was a specialized form of torture. Adar seemed to be called away by a never-ending series of problems that required solutions. Often his day began earlier than I awoke and ended long after I'd retired to bed. Ensuring I'd completed every task he'd left for me was the least I could do considering how busy his own position kept him.
Occasionally, we did still manage to sneak a meal or a short conversation with one another, but we had yet to discuss what had happened the night I pledged myself to him. Almost every night, the memory of the hunger in his eyes drove me to desperation, haunting my dreams and forcing me to muffle my cries as I tended to my own burning desire.
One of the few times he returned before I fell asleep, I'd just whimpered his name into my pillow. As he ascended the staircase, I heard his footsteps, and I tried to muffle my shame as it was too late to stop entirely. The fear of discovery lanced through me as I heard he approached the door. I tried to steady my breathing, and hoped that in the low lighting, he would not notice how disheveled I looked.
Either I was successful, or he was in a sadistic mood, because he sidled over to his own bedroll and began stripping down. I'd seen him without the armor before, but when he shucked off his upper garments, the sight of his scarred, toned torso was enough to make me bite my tongue to stifle a gasp.
The outline of his masculinity in his trousers as he laid his clothing in a neat pile sent a fresh wave of wetness soaking my inner thighs. Oh, how was I meant to sleep after seeing...that?
Adar laid down, and just when I thought he'd fallen asleep, his voice broke through the silence.
"Sweet dreams, my lady." I could hear the teasing smile in his voice.
Oh. My cheeks burned at the realization that he'd likely heard me.
"...Good night, my lord," I murmured, hating how shaky I sounded.
--
Spring changed very few things in Mordor, save the temperatures, yet with each passing day, Adar's lady seemed to smile just a little wider.
He wanted to give her more reasons to do so, however. It was not enough that they had been living in close quarters since that night in her shelter. It was not enough that he'd made her smile and laugh before. Adar needed to do it again.
But more than that, he needed to hear those things which it was not at all civilized to consider. It was not enough that he had tasted her blood and her skin and her racing pulse. He'd heard her make beautiful, pleasure-filled sounds when she thought he was out of earshot or asleep. But it was never enough. He needed to hear her moan his name, to see her arch her back beneath him in the throes of ecstasy. He needed her.
Teasing her had been as much a torture for him as it likely was for her. Adar had become addicted to pain in one form or another over the millennia, and the mental strain of denying himself the pleasure of her touch was not unfamiliar, but it was forcing him to a breaking point, nonetheless. He knew that he would likely snap as he had when she'd sworn him her loyalty. That rush had been like a dam releasing an unstoppable flood, his hunger turning him into a ravenous beast.
She hadn't minded, as he thought she might. She'd enjoyed it. The sight of her lying beneath him panting as her blood practically dripped from his lips made him achingly hard each time he dwelled upon the memory for too long.
Still, she deserved better. Better than him, better than a moment of animalistic need. He found himself wondering about how best to give her all of himself.
Adar supposed that was how he'd ended up in the doorway of the small bathing room. The claw-footed tub was filled with steaming water as he'd ordered, and relaxing within it was his lady. She'd deserved a moment of peace after having completed every single task he'd given her with such dedication. It was a small reward, hardly as much as she deserved, but at the moment, it was all he could give.
He tried not to allow his gaze to drop beneath the water's surface, but his restraint was weak after the last two weeks of self-imposed denial. Truly, he intended merely to check that she was well, but the temptation of seeing her soft skin dripping with hot water was too great. The Lord of Mordor lingered in the doorway just long enough to feel his lower garments grow tight, and for her eyes to meet his as his lust clawed at his restraint.
As a moth drawn to a flame, he found himself walking slowly into the room, summoned by her curious gaze. The hot water reached her collarbones, and Adar felt the urge rising within him to claim her.
He knelt beside the tub, his face mere inches from her own, and removed his armor, gauntlet and all. He rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, and dipped a washcloth into the hot water. The back of his hand brushed against the swell of her breast, and they both let out quiet gasps.
Still, Adar refused to look down into the depths of the sage blossom oil scented water. Wringing the washcloth out until it was just wet enough him to clean his face, he began to do so, only for his lady to take it from his hands. With her breasts pressed up against the side of the tub, her soft, gentle fingers held his head in place as she gently wiped away the grime.
Without a word, he turned his head and kissed her palm where twin scars were already forming. Adar would've preferred that she spill his own blood - that was what he'd originally intended - but since she'd chosen that pain, the least he could do was show the proper amount of reverence for her actions.
"Is there anything you need, Adar?" Her voice was shaky and breathless as it so often was when he caught her off-guard.
"No. This night is for you. Relax as long as you wish," he murmured, but as he stood to leave her in peace, he noted that she tried valiantly to hide her disappointment. Without turning back - if he did, he might do something impulsive - he called over his shoulder, "Patience, my lady, and you shall have all that you desire."
His hardness did not abate until long after they'd settled into their bedrolls and her breathing had evened out in the serenity of sleep.
Adar could not wait much longer. Her sweetness was as a siren's call to him.
Thus, his plan began to form. Once the spring was fully upon them, he approached her as he often did for conversation.
"My lady, I wonder if you might spare me a moment of your time?" He asked, and she smiled joyfully up at him - truly, that should not have made his heart stutter the way it did.
"Of course, my lord. You may have as much of my time as you desire," she replied, and oh, she had no idea what she was offering!
"Do you enjoy riding horses?"
She tilted her head curiously, but the way her smile widened had him mentally congratulating himself for selecting this particular tactic.
"I do, though, it has been quite some time since I've had the opportunity."
"Come," he urged offering her his hand. She didn't hesitate to take it. The feeling of her touch would be seared into his mind for as long as he lived. Drawing her close, he lowered his voice to a whisper. "I intend to steal you away."
Her lips parted in surprise, and just as he was about to apologize for his forthrightness, she squeezed his fingers in hers.
"I could not hope to be stolen by any more worthy." His breath hitched in his chest, and he tamped down the temptation to skip his plan entirely and take her atop his own sleeping furs. No. He'd been alive since before the waking of the world. He could wait a little longer.
"Then, maybe I should play the part...?" Adar suggested with a mischievous smirk. Before she could ask what he meant, he lifted her by the waist, tossed her over his shoulder - an action which tugged a surprised shriek from her lips - and carried her to his horse that way.
"My lord!"
"My lady!" He called back in answer as he felt her gentle, mortal hands lay across the back of his armor. Surely she knew he would never drop her?
Soon, he placed her atop his mount, and she giggled breathlessly at the situation. Her mussed hair and bright eyes lit a spark within his heart, and lower, not that he would admit it to any save her. Swinging up easily, he settled in behind her, grasping the horse's reins in one hand and bracing the other over the softness of her diaphragm. As close as they were, he was in the perfect position to whisper in her ear.
"Fear not, my lady," he breathed, "you shan't fall."
One of her hands covered his, and he urged their horse forward. For nearly two hours they rode, crossing from ashen, desolate terrain into the gentle rolling grasses of the land beyond Mordor's fiery shadow.
The rhythmic roll of her hips against his became almost hypnotic. The Lord of Mordor he might be, but his restraint was still utterly devastated by her. They dismounted when they reached a meadow peppered with small saplings.
Tying their horse's reins to a sturdy one, Adar offered his lady his hand. The sun was just beginning to glow a gentle orange. It would set soon, and he greatly desired to see his lady bathed in starlight.
"It is no secret that I favor you, my lady," Adar began as they wandered leisurely amongst the blooming flowers, and that was the closest he'd ever come to an admission...to a confession of that nature. "Even the Uruks farthest from the center of our camp know that I...that you are under my protection."
"Indeed. I would say that is true," she agreed, clearly not certain at what point he was driving with his rambling. "I am honored beyond words to have your favor and protection, my lord–"
"Adar. Here - anywhere away from prying eyes and unwelcome ears - you may call me Adar," he corrected gently, and her fingers squeezed his in gratitude. "I brought you here today, because I wish to ask for your counsel."
"You shall always have it, Adar," she assured, "though, I am not certain what advice I could provide that would be wiser than your own. I have very little experience with war and strategy."
He stopped walking and turned to face her - a mistake, because she was almost ethereally encompassed by the warmth of the sunset. He swallowed heavily to recover his voice.
"It is not war about which I require your thoughts," he began, bringing her hand to his ruined lips. "I have lived in shadow for so long, yet recently I have found myself prey to a feeling which I have not experienced in many Ages."
She tilted her head curiously.
"What might that be?"
Adar reached gently toward her with his free hand, cupping her cheek.
"Love," he rasped, looking into her eyes, hoping she would catch the meaning within his words. Admitting that a horrid creature like him had fallen head over heels for a beautiful being like her was tantamount to sacrilege. Yet...in several instances, he believed that he'd seen his own affection reflected in her eyes. Indeed, the moans he'd heard from her would seem to indicate that she desired him.
But it was too much to hope that she could love him. He was certain she desired him, but...love? Could a Human woman truly love an Uruk when the rest of her kind looked down on them in scorn and disgust? Had he been a fool to bring her here?
She stepped closer to him, looking up into his eyes–
Her expression stole his breath. He had not hung the stars in the sky, nor had he wrought treasures like the Silmarils. He had not created even a single thing of beauty. All he'd done was try to give his children a home.
And yet...she looked at him as though he was more worthy of praise than the most virtuous of kings, the most honorable of knights, and the most devoted of husbands. Could it be possible?
Could she...?
"I am afraid that I have little experience with love, Adar, but I will help if I can." As afraid as he might be of losing her, he must speak now or lose her forever.
"In your opinion, who is worthy of love?" He asked, and she let out a small huff of laughter, as if the question was a foolish one. "Have I said something amusing?"
"A bit," she admitted, but she was quick to place her free hand over his heart, "but not in the way you might think. Everyone is worthy of love, even - and, perhaps, most especially - the Lord-Father of the Uruks."
Was he truly so transparent that she could see his fears so easily? Or had she managed to worm her way so far into his heart without his knowledge that it was already a bosom companion to her own?
"...And you have it." His eyes snapped back up to hers - when had he looked away? His hunger and adoration for her rose up in a great wave, consuming him from the inside as he wove his fingers into the hair at the nape of her neck and drew her into a passionate kiss.
He'd dreamed of having her pressed up against him, of drinking her pleasure from her lips.
She moaned into Adar's mouth, and he was struck by the realization that she was so much better than any phantom images that his imagination could conjure. He dragged his lips and teeth to the corner of her jaw, and spoke in a hoarse, rasping whisper.
"I need you as I need air, meleth-nin." He grasped her waist as her arms drew him ever closer. "You steal my breath, yet without you I cannot breathe. Have mercy....Have mercy upon your most devoted servant..."
As the orange sky bled pink, his lips trailed down her neck, savoring those places which had driven him to the edge of madness when he sampled her before the fire. His name escaped her lips on the back of a desperate whine.
"What do you need? Tell me," Adar breathed, and she tilted her head to offer him more of her neck.
"Take me, touch me, please! I'll be good, so good, only for you," she begged, and the sound went straight to the stiffening length between his legs. He would love nothing more than to have her beg for him all night, but this time she would have no need to. Tonight, the beginning of their time as one, he would fulfill her every desire with a minimum of teasing. He'd done too much of that of late.
Her fingers dove into his hair, and a moan poured from his throat, rumbling against her pretty skin.
"Is that what you want? Do you wish to be a good girl for me?" She released a varied stream of yeses and pleas for him to do as he wished with her, and he acceded to her request with a kiss, quelling any doubt she may have had that he would do this for her. He would do anything for her, even unto the destruction of Middle Earth. "Do you wish to be mine?"
"Yes!" Her answer was akin to a desperate sob, and he wasted no time, immediately indulging her.
Tugging his cloak from his armor, Adar spread it over the grass. He would not have her dress covered in stains, nor grass blades stuck to her skin. The cloth created a sharp contrast - an onyx patch amidst a sea of pinks, purples, reds, and yellows - the dark to the meadow's light, just as she was the light to his darkness. She completed him, enthralled him, drove him mad, and tonight he would show her just how much.
She went for the ties fastening her dress, but he caught her hands in his and took over. She was a gift more precious than anything which the Valar could bestow upon their servants, and he would unwrap her accordingly.
As the laces binding the back of her dress fell away one at a time, Adar explored his lover's mouth with all the tenderness and gentleness that his cruel, twisted body could muster. He hadn't even realized that her tricky little fingers had begun to fiddle with his armor until his breastplate fell away.
In a flurry of discarded garments, they were each revealed to the other in all their beauty and all their flaws. Their shared vulnerability stilled their hands for an anxious moment, but only for a moment.
Adar's breath hitched in his chest when the soft lips he'd tasted mere seconds before connected with the scarred flesh over his heart. He'd expected pity, fear, regret - not reverence. Instead, as she looked up at him, he saw nothing but sincerity in her expression.
"You are gorgeous," she said, as though she could not tell that he had but one part of his body which was untouched by scars.
...As though she meant it. He realized with a sharp intake of breath that she did. She grasped his hands and they sank onto his cloak together, she on her back and he kneeling between her legs. His interest jutted toward her, but he could not find it within himself to be ashamed, not when he was with her. Not when a piece of his armor hung on a chain around her neck, resting comfortably above her breast.
"There is no beauty finer in this world than yours."
Spread nude before him over his cloak, Adar's lady looked up at him with an adoration he had not believed possible. Not when directed at an Uruk such as he. His lips met hers once more, but this time, he forced himself to be much more controlled. He wanted her, yes, but he also wanted her to know that she had his love.
Kissing his way steadily down her body, the Lord-Father of the Uruks had no doubt that he must look as hungry for her as he felt. Practically feral with pent-up desire, he needed her writhing on his tongue. His hands trembled with the effort it took to slow his movements, to take his time.
Abruptly, as his eyes met hers from between her legs, he realized that she very much had the capacity to destroy him. With a single declaration of hatred or a look of disgust, she could easily take his stone heart and pulverize it into powder.
How easily could she shred beyond repair what little remained of his soul!
Not even Morgoth had been able to do that. This mortal woman, this sweet, brave lady had no idea of the power that she possessed. The smart thing to do - the strategically wise path - would have been to kill her then and there while she lay vulnerable and trusting before him, begging for one more touch, one more kiss, one more moan, one more scrap of his attention.
Instead, he picked up his discarded gauntlet and slid her much smaller hand inside it. The clasps were quick work, and though she looked confused at first, once he lifted her thighs over his shoulders and guided her hand to his hair, understanding dawned in her eyes. She understood. He wanted her to feel powerful. She was his equal and she deserved to know it.
Even with sharp, unyielding metal covering her fingertips, they scraped so gently over his scalp as lost himself in the flood between her thighs. She moaned and whimpered, squirming in his hold, but through it all, she never once hurt him.
Adar knew that she wouldn't. Even as she cried out his name for all the world to hear, drenching his tongue and chin, her grip in his hair was careful. Her thighs tensed in his grasp, squeezing his head in an intoxicating vice. Groaning and snarling against her sensitive folds, he couldn't bring himself to pull away until she was shaking in the midst of over-sensitivity.
"Adar, please," she breathed as he moved up her body. Hunger raged and burned in his eyes - he could deny himself no longer. Grasping her wrists, he pinned them easily above her head as he claimed her lips. His tongue delved into the softness of her mouth, taking with it the lingering taste of her.
Her legs wrapped around his hips, drawing him close enough for his tip to catch on her entrance. With synchronized groans, he pressed inside of her, joining their bodies together as one.
Profane language not meant for the ears of such a creature as her spilled from his throat in a guttural stream of Black Speech. Dipping his head, Adar moaned against her breast and surged forward, drawing a sinful mewl from deep within her throat.
"You have me. You take me so well," he praised in a raspy whisper, nibbling at her earlobe as he thrust into her slowly. Gradually, she stripped him of his sense and control, tugging from within him a steady flow of praise and filth in Elvish and Black Speech - promises to treasure her for the rest of his days, to protect her, and to draw from her so many screams each night that all of Mordor would be unable to deny his claim over her.
When she managed to roll her hips beneath him to meet his thrusts, begging him to use her, to ruin her, what could he do but grant his lady's wish?
In a quick movement, he'd repositioned them both so that she was astride his hips. Pulling her arms behind her back and tugging slightly so that her chest was pushed toward him, Adar looked into her eyes.
"If you wish your lord to use you, then move those hips," he ordered. Leaning in, he brushed a few strands of her hair behind her ear and whispered a bit more gently to her. "Ride me, meleth. Show me that I have you."
She obeyed him instantly, finding a steady rhythm which, aided by his fingers toying with her clit, would have her tipping over the edge in mere moments. Indeed, her hips soon stuttered, and he gripped the back of her neck, forcing her eyes to meet his.
"Do not look away. Look at the pleasure I can give you," he commanded, and as she nodded frantically, beginning to fall apart, he felt his heart stutter in his chest. "Yes, look upon the Uruk who loves you."
At that she sobbed and collided firmly with her orgasm. She fluttered around his length, calling his name in lovelorn stutters and gasps.
Who needed Valinor when she was its very embodiment?
He released her wrists, and she threw her arms around his neck, claiming his lips with her own. His hands slid down her back, landing squarely on her hips. Holding her steady, Adar thrust up into her, making her yelp in surprise. He needed very little now; he was close.
"Where do you wish me?" Adar breathed against her lips, and he could feel the heat burning her cheeks.
"Inside," she answered hiding her face against his neck, and he moaned against her shoulder. Her name tore from him in an almost pained whine as he spilled within her. He clutched her to him so tightly that he'd undoubtedly left bruises in his wake, but he would kiss them all in apology when they'd caught their breath.
Neither seemed eager to release the other, so in their embraced they remained exploring one another with gentle fingers and loving lips until long after the moon had risen and stars had winked their way into the sky. When he dared to lean back far enough to look into her eyes, Adar was met with love bathed in glittering starlight.
He wondered if he'd hurt her, but the smile stretching her lips said otherwise. The armor piece that she'd made into a necklace still rested upon the smooth expanse of her chest - a perfect accompaniment to his gauntlet upon her arm.
The ride back to camp seemed too short by far, but their bedrolls - which would soon be joined into one - called out to them so sweetly. Adar was used to the bows and deference he received from his children, but he knew in his heart that his decision had been right when upon their return he heard the Uruks repeating a particular phrase as they passed.
His lover had heard part of it before, but now there were a few more words to it.
"What is that they keep saying?" She whispered the question to him, and he couldn't keep himself from smiling proudly. "It sounds familiar, but different."
"'Tis Black Speech. They are saying 'make way for the Lord and Lady of Mordor,'" he answered kissing her temple as they approached their home.
~*~*~
Taglist:
@bigblissandlove1 @horta-in-charge @gandalfthepimp
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snzluv3r · 3 days
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i feel like the worst person in the world for this thought, but i am SO excited for it to get cold enough for my neighbor’s flowers to die…and i think these self obs from today help me explain exactly why.
cw for descriptions of allergic sneezing + mess
i feel horrible for wishing death on this little old man’s plants, but his garden is full of an entire rainbow of multiple different flowers that have made me sneeze every single day i’ve walked passed them since april.
even on the good days when i manage to hold back an immediate sneezing fit, they still make my eyes water and my nose run, forcing me to try (and fail, almost always fail) to balance sniffling back the mess and trying not to sneeze long enough to make it inside my own place, which is not only a race against the clock but a race against nature itself imo.
i felt especially silly and embarrassing today as i fought against what felt like two different seasons of allergic affliction. it was as if my melodramatic nose couldn’t pick just one allergen to contend with, let alone to publicly humiliate me with—so, even as friday brought with it a merciful conclusion to a long work week of fall allergies, i ended up breathless and sneezy once more, my nose caught off guard after passing by these brightly colored remnants of spring and summer. the comforting, crisp chill and damp smell in the air of the incoming autumn had almost made me forget about the flowers and their threat to my already sensitive nose, until their bright colors caught my eye, in stark contrast with the grey evening sky.
i tried so hard not to inhale until i was past the stretch of flower-garden-allergy-torture, but somehow i forgot that sniffling is a form of inhaling, and the strong, floral scented air managed to hit me even through the double-layered protection of my mask and my existing mild congestion. i don’t think i even got to fully sniffle before my eyes were filling with allergic tears and my breath was hitching, the tickle too deep in my nose to hold back.
like all my allergic sneezes, especially the ones that start when my nose is already drippy and sniffly and dramatically irritated, these were bound to be wet, and there was no time to even pull down my mask, let alone scramble for my travel pack of tissues. in a panic i tried to stifle, which only made everything so much worse and only actually worked for about three poorly stifled sneezes before the first desperate, unrestrained sneeze ripped through me. obviously it didn’t have far to go, given the mask still hugging my face and caging my mouth and nose, but there was no way i was taking off the mask now. the damage was done, and i couldn’t risk the embarrassment of anyone seeing me like this.
not when the more i sneezed, the more mess i could feel run down my chin, completely coating the lower half of my face and inside of my mask. feeling the spray of each sneeze against my mask only made my embarrassment about yet another public sneezing fit worse, my ears and cheeks reddening even more than my nose. i tried stifling again but realized it was pointless, resigning myself to walking as fast as i could while remaining upright as my body snapped forward with harsh, uncontrollable allergic sneezes. my only solace was the slight muffle the (now drenched) mask provided, keeping my head down and towards my chest as i sneezed and shuffled my feet clumsily along the sidewalk. i only ended up having to stop my awkward, sneezy speed-walking once in the remaining two blocks home, for a rogue rapid fit that came so fast, all i could do was stop in my tracks to sneeze over and over again into my mask, my chin tucked into my chest as i instinctively held my elbow up as if to cover the fit despite the mask.
by the time i got into my apartment i had sneezed probably 35 times into my mask and the mess trapped inside was clinging awkwardly to my ever flaring nostrils, making the still unsatisfied itch even more unbearable. it felt almost like purposeful torture, as if the sensation of the mask’s now cool, damp fabric against the existing need to sneeze had become someone who was lightly tickling my nose with a feather, playfully torturing my glistening nostrils as they twitched. my nose was so unbelievably itchy and impossible to ignore in those last few steps to my apartment that i couldn’t help but try to rub my nose against my chest as i fumbled with my keys to unlock the front door. it didn’t even register with me that i was doing it until i had the door open and realized how ineffective of a handsfree nose rubbing method that had been, my desperate attempt at relief only bothering my nose more.
i didn’t even get the door all the way closed behind me before i was sneezing again, my walk up the stairs made difficult by more sudden rapid-fire sneezes, but i was determined to make it all the way home before i lost complete control. even though i was virtually alone, i still had no intention of taking off the mask until i was truly alone and behind a closed, preferably locked door—the thought of anyone seeing how much of a mess i was behind the mask was unbearable, somehow even more embarrassing than all the actual public sneezing itself. it couldn’t have taken me more than seconds to unlock my apartment door, the final destination and end to this nightmare, but it felt agonizingly long as i sneezed in rapid sets of 3s that felt like they echoed up and down the stairs. literally all i could think about was ripping the mask off, finally freeing my nose of the sort of self-inducing allergic torture chamber my mask had become and burying my mouth and nose into about a dozen tissues at once to have the fit of my life (or at least this week 🤣),
i truly applaud this man for not only keeping these flowers alive but THRIVING to the point they’re still pollinating, even as the temperatures drop and leaves fall in the same backyard, but i can’t deny that i daydream about the day i don’t have to try to hold my breath as i walk down that block…
so yeah, i guess in the nicest and gentlest way possible, i can’t wait for this man’s flowers to die (or be moved to some nice imaginary greenhouse in a land far away)
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kibbles-bits · 2 days
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any voxval fics you’d recommend?
Ah, yes, voxval fics... The one ship that finally made me cave and read explicit stuff. I am now numb to everything.
Everything.
I'll only be posting completed fics. Warnings, almost all of these are explicit. A couple also have Angel, you know, suffering.
And please mind the tags.
First off is a couple of favs that I always go back for a reread:
Corrupted Love by DoveFactory (Words: 149,495)
In a moment of blind desperation to one-up Alastor, Vox puts himself in a compromising situation that leaves him worse for wear. His state triggers something in Valentino who decides to change the nature of their relationship.
The title and summary of this is so misleading I thought it was going to be a dark fic but nope. The Vees are a bunch of goobers and Valentino always wins. I would scream about this every time it updated. I love the characterizations and their banter it almost made me forget there's sex in like every chapter. Honestly I wish there was more tags referencing the character/story stuff.
Virtual Reality by passthevoxcord (Words: 7,634)
Vox gets tired of his cybernetic biology being a barrier to his sex life, so he starts a new project to fuck Valentino in VR. Val will try anything once, but he has something else in mind.
This one ends up being so sweet I want to die. passthevoxcord's other fic, Only a Shadow, drives me nuts but its a WIP and hasn't actually gotten to the voxval yet.
choke behind a smile by gloriousmonsters (Words: 19,881)
"I'm not scared by extreme, although I doubt I'll find it interesting. What is it?" Valentino's eyes narrow slyly over his smile. "If you aren't scared, why do you need a warning?" Vox has everything under control in his new business partnership with benefits. His emotions, his unfortunate desires, the little mind games they play. Even Valentino himself. When Val offers an invitation to a special show he's performing, Vox knows it's a dare, and knows he has to take it, show Val that he can't be scared or destabilized. He has no idea of how deep under his skin the show will get.
Everyone's so normal. I love this Valentino. There's another Valvel fic that has the same Valentino I also recommend called bad girls go backstage.
Great Expectations by MarenRose (Words: 11,280)
“It’s his goal. Those three simple words. If he could get to hear them once, could let the reality of their meaning and spoken existence occupy his mind for only a few indiscernible moments, then maybe, Vox could learn to see the appeal of this god forsaken holiday. He might even learn to ‘love’ it too.” Or: Vox hates Valentine’s Days. His prick of a ‘wife’ is just too damn hard to please.
This miiiight have been the fic that made me Lock In on voxval? I'm not sure. It's sweet. Alastor is hilarious.
biting keeps your words at bay by Subedarling (Words: 1,511)
“You can’t hit me,” Valentino says. He’s practically vibrating with rage. “You’re not allowed to—you can’t hit me!” Vox sneers, cruel and mocking and hopefully masking the way his heart is breaking apart inside his chest. “Baby, I can do whatever the hell I want.” A decade into their partnership, Vox and Valentino have their first and last physical fight.
This might be the only non-explicit fic in this list. I am all for Val being the worst just because he's Like That. But I will not say no to an implied tragic backstory. I read this one a lot and want to die. Can I draw this. I want to draw this. Oh my god I have free time I can totally draw this...
And my other recs:
Just For The Record by PeppermintWalrus (Words: 13,795)
Vox is thrilled about his new film enterprise with his business partner, ready to build a lucrative empire for the denizens of hell to experience true cinema, in the only genre their depraved minds desire. There’s just one problem that he finds out too late; Valentino has never filmed porn before. Vox decides that some... hands-on teaching, is necessary to save their production.
Yeah you read that right.
a putrid feeling that i've addressed by spoondrifts (Words: 5,162)
They weren’t a couple because Valentino was pathologically noncommittal and Vox simply knew better. He tried the whole romance thing with a certain radio demon a few decades back, and he’d learned his damn lesson. Hell just wasn’t the place for that sort of cutesy bullshit. Also, he was pretty sure that Valentino was straight up incapable of love, which was both par for the course for Vox’s friendships and amazingly convenient—things couldn’t get complicated if there was nothing to complicate in the first place. Or: Full Moon, Vox/Val edition.
Haha I love pain. I lied, this is the second non-explicit fic.
Little Miss Hellion by DoveFactory (Words: 10,657)
Hell’s worst married couple spends a day of family bonding at a beauty pageant doing whatever it takes to make sure their daughter takes home the crown, because failure is never an option for the Vees. Pilot AU where Vox and Valentino are married and Velvette is their adopted daughter.
It's more Vees than voxval but they're married so.
The Art of Pimping by MarenRose (Words: 9,161)
Desperate to close a deal with one of the most lucrative investors in Pride, Vox does the unthinkable and pimps out Valentino for a one-time date. What could go wrong?
Val's attitude in this one is funny and Vox. Yeah. Vox made a mistake.
You Found Me by passthevoxcord (Words: 4,338)
Long before Velvette came along, it was just them. Vox and Valentino. Valentino and Vox.
Sobbing.
Something Less Than Dishonest by daphnerunning, Galiko (Words: 33,931)
He isn’t expecting the way Valentino walks, for some reason. Maybe it’s the extra limbs. Maybe it’s the wings. Maybe it’s the heels. Vox had skipped briefly through a few of the slut’s movies, for research, and isn’t expecting the way Valentino moves in person to feel so… Different. “…You must be my four o’clock,” he says, standing and offering a hand. Oh, shit, he’s huge. Valentino towers over him, easily would without the stripper heels. Vox is not afraid of heights.
Vox is so offensive in this it loops back around to hilarious.
Red Skies and Valentino by alternatedoom (Words: 86,050)
"Vox and I are special friends, doll. Go give him a kiss," Val says to the boy.
Angel does not have a good time. But the Voxval is nice.
before you go by xoTsundoku (Words: 4,426)
Before Alastor came into their lives, Vox and Valentino were happy. Maybe they still can be.
A Farewell to Ghosts by Accidental_Ducky (Words: 37,149)
"What do you think that is," Vox demands, pointing at the new guy. Valentino turns, eyes raking greedily over the man's body. He's gorgeous, skinny in a heroin chic way with big blue eyes and blond hair that falls just so across his eyes. "Hot." "Don't fucking call the ghost hot!"
The only human AU I've liked so far. Love the character interactions. Vox and Val are hilarious.
God I hope I didn't miss any. There's definitely some good WIP ones out there.
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sturnsdc · 3 days
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ART CLASS AU!
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pair: Carl Grimes x fem!reader
synopsis: Yn has feelings for her classmate, Carl, but she never does anything about it. However, things seem to work in her favor when they have to work on a project together for the art class.
warnings: no TWD scenes, just fluff, slight angst, somewhat obsessive behavior ??
words: 2,4k
A/N: to make the narration clearer: at all times, Yn is writing in her diary, which is why at times she will speak about Carl, and at other times it may seem like she’s speaking directly to him (but she’s not)!! For the most part, it’s just a bunch of fragments from her diary, as she explains a bit at the end.
this came to my mind suddenly; i apologize for it being so short.
the words in italics are the lyrics of the song !!
dividers from: @cafekitsune ! ♡
main masterlist carl masterlist
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YN´S POV
you look pretty good today
is it me or did you shave?
sometimes i wonder if it's normal, if it's real. With each passing day, he seems to become more handsome, and like a magnet, he keeps drawing my gaze again and again. It feels like i can't control it.
i notice when he wears a new shirt, or when he’s wearing the same pants from a few days ago. I notice when he forgets something, when he’s focused, or when he gets distracted.
i just can’t stop noticing him.
good, you've been looking at me twice as more
so i can see your face
when we make eye contact, i feel like i’m going to die. My heart races, my cheeks turn red, my hands sweat, and i stop breathing. Even my stomach tightens, my whole body tenses up. The first time it happened, i thought i was having an attack.
secretly, i enjoy it because when i feel his gaze, i have an excuse to turn my head, look at him, and smile. I don’t even know where i find the courage, but he smiles back at me, with tight lips, then looks away after a few seconds.
my friends told me not to overthink it, that maybe i’m just misinterpreting things. They say if “i keep analyzing every time we make eye contact”, i’ll end up falling for him, and then he’ll break my heart by not feeling the same way.
you sit across from me in the classroom
but do you even know my name?
then i tried to avoid him. He probably doesn’t even know who i am. Does he even know my name? i doubt it; they hardly ever say it out loud in class. I don’t even know everyone else’s names.
but then everything seems to align, and the teacher walks to that side of the room while giving the lesson, as if she knows i’m following her with my eyes. And there he is, on the other side of the classroom, in his plaid shirt and with those pretty eyes, taking notes on everything she’s saying… while i lose my breath and forget what i was listening to.
Carl... i do know your name.
if you want to ask me how i am
don't hesitate
it was a couple of days after the teacher announced the final project. The art class would have to hold a fair, showcasing our own works, from paintings to ceramics. It had to be in pairs, but we couldn’t pick our usual partners. We had to step out of our bubbles and take a risk.
i thought about him, but my embarrassment consumed me, so i let the days pass. And just two days before the next class, i ran into him in the hallway. He seemed surprised. His blue eyes looked at me in a strange way, almost like he was unsure of something. Then he made a move to come closer, and i started to get nervous.
he did it; i didn’t expect him to. He spoke to me, asked if we could pair up, and all i could do was say yes, with a dazed look and stumbling over my words. Then he smiled, like i’d never seen him smile before. His face lit up, and he walked away, happy.
did i do the right thing? how am i gonna focus if i could barely even speak to him?
'cause you're my cru-cru-crush
and i like you very much
i have to admit, Carl Grimes is a special guy. I can’t stop thinking about him, about the little details i’ve noticed, about the brief interactions we’ve had. It’s like my world is starting to revolve around him.
he’s a gentleman—so masculine yet so gentle. He speaks to me with such care, even though i’ve seen him outside of class, joking roughly and arguing with his friends. He’s the complete opposite.
i like this side of him, when he focuses all his attention on me, asks for my opinion, and smiles at me. I haven’t seen him talk like that with anyone else. 
should i get my hopes up?
and i'd appreciate if you'd like me back
but it's okay 'cause you make my heart
we started talking about the project.
he’s so smart, coming up with amazing ideas, and i stress over not knowing which one to choose. however, he doesn’t seem worried; he waits for my answer patiently, as if we had all the time in the world, which isn’t true since we have to submit the work plan by the end of the class. but he doesn’t pressure me—he asks for my opinion on each idea and helps me weigh the pros and cons.
we chose one together, and then i started writing our plan.
but… something… feels off. We keep making eye contact, and i smile like a fool, watching as he does the same. Is this really happening? i feel like we’re in a bubble. time no longer exists, air isn’t even necessary—just us.
and then i find myself hoping that he feels the same, because i love how it feels to talk to him, to be the center of his attention, even if just for a moment.
an art class
an art class
art class used to be my escape from other subjects, a room where i felt safe. Then i saw him, and it became more than just that. Thinking about art class sends tingles through my body and instantly puts a smile on my face. My heart races like crazy, and i’m filled with excitement. And it’s all because of him.
now, art class has become something that makes me genuinely happy, motivating me to go to school.
even with the project, i’ve never been this excited to work on an assignment before, but now that i’m at his house, meeting his dad and his sister, and then heading to his room to start working on our project… i feel like i love classwork.
why do you always stick to smiling
and sit still being so quiet?
i feel like he's in the hallways more often now, because i see him every day. Sometimes i'm just turning a corner, and there he is, with his group of friends, laughing and being the smiley guy i used to see only once in a while. 
he's everywhere, all the time. What's going on?
now it's impossible not to notice him, because he's always there. Sometimes i don't even have to see him, because i can hear his laugh, or his friends', and i know we’re in the same place. 
how can he be so loud, but so damn quiet in class? i don’t get it.
it's like a completely different version of him, but i don't mind at all, it's just... weird. 
i've been pretty distracted for some days
and it's ruining my diet
the days go by, and each time i get to know him more and more. He's amazing, funny, super smart, mature, and adorable. I've also gotten to know his family better, and i understand more where that calm and controlled side he shows in class comes from.
everything seems wonderful, and i know my feelings are only growing with each passing minute, but he's starting to occupy my mind all the time, and that's becoming a problem.
my friends talk during lunch, but all i can think about is our conversation from the day before, when we got sidetracked from the project, and he started explaining the story of one of his comics. I can remember how his eyes lit up as he told me about it, and i just kept asking questions, even though i already knew the stories. I love the passion with which he spoke about it. I remember his tone of voice, the way he moved his head, and how his eyes looked at me so attentively. I recall almost every word, but then, when my mind is at its peak, i see my friends getting up from their seats, looking at me with puzzled and concerned faces.
lunch ended, and i didn’t even touch my food.
Carl Grimes, i need to figure this out soon.
if you don't take the hint already
i'm afraid i'll start a riot
i’m trying to figure out if it’s just me, Carl, but i really don’t understand—do you look at me the way i look at you?
now i try to avoid looking at you if i don’t have to, but then i feel a constant gaze, and when i turn my head, there you are, trying to look away as quickly as you can. Am i imagining this?
i feel the frustration building inside me, Carl. I need to know.
today, i try wearing different clothes, the ones i save in my closet for occasions outside of class, the ones i wear when i feel confident. But this time, i don’t feel that way. This time, i’m scared. I want you to notice. I want to know if you care, if you’ll say something.
'cause you make my whole world go crazy
yeah, your smell just sends me flying
and you did, Carl. You told me i looked good, then you got nervous and said i always look good, just that this time i looked different. If you only knew how much that meant to me.
since then, days have gone by, and i feel like you’re paying more attention to me— or have you always done that and i’m just now noticing?
you also started wearing a new cologne; it’s stronger and lingers in the air when you pass by me. Is that on purpose? now i can’t stop thinking about how good you smell, and that alone is enough to keep me floating, my mind in paradise, thinking about how much i like you.
'cause you're my cru-cru-crush
and i like you very much
today i told my friends how i feel about you. They looked at me with pity and talked to me like i was a little girl. They say you don’t feel the same, that i’m imagining everything, and that i’ll end up hurt if i keep this up.
am i really that out of my mind? they say i’m obsessed, that i’m seeing things where there aren’t any.
but they were the ones who told me the first time you looked back at me.
and i'd appreciate if you'd like me back
but it's okay 'cause you make my heart
i've spent some nights crying, and now i’m trying to avoid you. It's so hard when we still have to keep working on the damn project.
i’m scared of getting my hopes up. I started this on my own. you’re not to blame, but now i wish i didn’t have to see you for a couple of weeks.
an art class
an art class
and yet, that day of the week arrives, and along with the anxiety, i can feel the excitement trying to break free. My heart races, my hands sweat, and i can’t catch my breath.
“art class,” says the sign on the door, and just that is enough to shake my entire world and bring back the feelings i’m trying to ignore.
all my days
been trying to find a reason to stay
i keep hearing my friends' words every time i see you, and now i feel guilt, embarrassment, and a horrible pain in my chest that settles in my heart, right next to the happiness you bring me. It makes me feel sick and confused.
you've asked me a couple of times if i'm okay, but how could i answer you with the truth?
say my name
and i'll go ahead and pick a date
i'm okay
if you understand that this is fate
the day of the exhibition arrived, and i’m nervous, and you notice it, so you take my hand and smile at me. You told me everything would be fine, that we did great, and that we would do really well.
you were right. Of course you were...
we spent the whole day there, answering questions and receiving compliments. We really did a good job, and everyone keeps saying that.
now i feel exhausted. All day i had to manage my emotions—the mix of anxiety, the pain in my chest, happiness, satisfaction... and love, the damn love. I feel like handling all that drained me more than talking to so many people and repeating the same words over and over.
finally, we can leave, but then you take my hand again and make me look at you. This time you look more serious, and i start to get scared, but you don’t say anything bad.
“i’m going to be honest, Yn, i loved working with you on this and getting to know you better. Since i saw you in class, something about you caught my attention, but i didn’t know how to approach you. This was the perfect opportunity, and i took it. I understand if you don’t feel the same way i do, but if you do... i’d like to get to know you more and see what can come of this.” that’s what you said, your face blushing and your eyes looking everywhere but at me.
if you only knew that when i got home, i cried, feeling so happy, kicking my legs on the bed like a tv character, and squealing into my pillow so no one would hear me. with my face red and a huge smile.
now we’re going on a date, and i just hope this turns out well.
Carl Grimes, what have you done to me?
art class
art class
i don’t even know when i started smiling, but i finished reading aloud and looked around. Carl, beside me, was smiling widely, and our two little ones had tears in their eyes; apparently, they were moved by the story of how it all began.
i recently found my diary from when i was a teenager, and i told Carl about it in front of the girls, and they both begged me to read it to them. Of course, i paused at the perfect part, at the true beginning of our relationship, but within those pages is everything, including the story of our first time and countless anecdotes from our school days.
i will always be grateful for that class because that’s how i got to know the man who makes me happy.
Carl Grimes is more than my words can describe, but i think i did a good job explaining how i fell for him.
who would have thought that a couple of years later, this would be our life?
in the end, maybe it was part of our destiny.
taglist: @jamiesturniolo
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yuseirra · 2 days
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onk spoilers (161)
Sorry, I really can't keep quiet about this because this series has been my brainrot for the past couple months and this is pretty..;; hehe.. depending on how it plays out, it will determine how I'll feel about this entire work completely. So bear with me for the next few weeks!
There are a few panels that really stand out in terms of expressions that really bug me, this guy could be acting. Putting the rest in the read-more, I'm vagueposting but still, I feel it's better manners to do so.. I'm sorry for being unable to keep to myself. I hope you understand though, I've been drawing something for this series almost every single day!
There are a few really genuine-looking ones and those.. could be interpreted as him being concerned over Aqua, it's not really my wishful thinking because he's actually persuading his son to think of things he must live for, regardless of what thoughts and intent he has behind it. He DOES want Aqua to live, and when Aqua says he'd give up on that, he has the exact same face he had when he fell in despair in the movie arc (when Ai said she'd leave him/when Airi gaslit him). I think that expression IS real. And he's really shocked when Aqua.. yeah, does what he does. So I don't think he likes the idea of Aqua dying.
I've been looking at this character a lot, and came to a conclusion that his smiles are masks. I've mentioned this a few times in my earlier analyses regarding him and in one post, I wrote:
That smile he floats is consistent through the entire time he's shown in the story and the only times it breaks is when it has to do with Ai and when she sees him through. And it starts to break the moment he sees her talking about him. Every expression he makes when he sees Ai in the video are his true feelings. His smiles, on the other hand, are his coping mechanism and are all masks.
so I actually feel this is the case this time too, the author wouldn't have made this guy a genius actor who's TAUGHT Ai to act for nothing... The whole chapter starts out with his expression being expressionless, then forming a smile, just before he starts saying everything onwards. And by doing this, he IS actually talking to his son to forget about killing him and go on living his own life while sounding pretty evil...
but that means we can't believe the god or whatever she says either, so that's why I don't know. She was wrong about Ryosuke and "a middle school boy" having gone to the hospital once if Kamiki never went and it was really Nino, but would she be TOTALLY off in this case? I have no idea. That's what makes it confusing for me and have a lot less hope on how things will unveil, but the expression cues do say something... if it weren't for her, I'd say he's acting.. but the things she mentions about him are just too...that of a third-rate villain and it's so nonredeemable. If that is right, the whole idea of Ai having wanted to help him is sort of thrown out the window. They DIDN'T need to make her say that... it was so WISE of her to leave a guy like him, and all her visions of him were wrong, you know?
So I'm just.. wondering how much we need to trust the crow.
I thought I could trust her, but how much does she actually know?;
Or maybe it IS true that Kamiki's done some hideous things the way she's depicted it, and yet he doesn't want his SON to be the same way.
If there's one thing I can pick up from this chapter that's going to be released... it'd be that Kamiki doesn't want Aqua to die. He thinks there's many reasons for Aqua to go on living. If you pay careful attention to his speech, that's what he's actually talking about... he actually looked a little relieved when Aqua agrees he has a lot to live for and that breaks when Aqua still refuses.
Yeah.. I think.. I'll stick around a bit more actually. The part that REALLY bothers me is what Tsukuyomi says, if that's really true.. ehh.....it's a huge let-down for me I don't like that. It's not a very good way to use this character. It's really dumb and I don't think it works but if the author says so; okay?? but I won't feel the need to collect the physical volumes any further if that's true. That's just me though.
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