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certaimromance · 3 days

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𝜗𝜚 A Lie Matter.

Spencer Reid x Prentiss!reader

Series masterlist | ONE | TWO | THREE |

Summary: All Spencer wanted was to have you back, but when it happens, it's the opposite of what he and you thought it would be.

Words: 3,6k.

TW: mentions of crime, trauma, death and pain (normal warnings in the series). so much spoilers for s6 and s7. the events narrated occur after emily's "death". so MUCH angst. read the dates carefully, especially the years, because there are some backward time frames that can confuse you if you don't pay attention!. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: Okay, if I apologized for the first part, I have to get down on my knees for this one, because it is even more bitter (sorry Emily and Spencer, too).

I ask you to put yourselves in everyone's shoes and refrain from hateful comments. The process of writing this was emotionally challenging for me because I recognize that everyone has a valid point of view.

♡ Enjoy! ♡

December 5th, 2010

Your brow furrowed as you opened a new tab on your computer and watched it freeze for a few seconds. You were not very knowledgeable about technology and thought that perhaps a technical analyst could be of assistance. You were somewhat surprised when you suddenly felt a pair of warm arms around you from behind the sofa.

On the bright side, it wasn't all bad. At least not if you had him on your side.

“Hey.” You said, smiling slightly as you felt Spencer rest his head on your shoulder. “I thought you were reading.”

“Yeah, but you looked really focused and I wanted to know what you were doing.” He replied, carefully sitting down next to you on the couch, not wanting to invade your space. You looked at him with some amusement. “I'm just curious.”

He gazed at your computer screen, his heart aching a little as he noticed you were browsing a travel site, exploring different destinations and planning your budget. Had you decided to leave? He wondered why you hadn't told him sooner. Were you planning to leave him?

“Are you planning to leave?” He finally asked, after a few seconds of trying to decide whether to pursue the matter further. “Did something happen?”

The question he really wanted to ask, and feared to ask, was: Did I do something?

But no, Spencer wasn't going to self-destruct or assume things this time. He trusted you and he trusted that you would tell him if something was wrong because that was the kind of relationship the two of you had built.

“It's my mother's gift to me.” You replied quickly, as if to avoid the subject. “For my birthday.” You added as you noticed he looked confused.

“A trip?”

“Yes, when I was younger, I wanted to see the whole world and my mother promised that someday I would.” You began to explain, trying to avoid his gaze at first so as not to show too much vulnerability. Suddenly he took your hand in support. “Since I was fourteen, she's given me a trip every time...she doesn't know that I don't even have that dream anymore.”

“What is your dream now?” He asked with a genuine curiosity that made you feel small under his gaze.

You paused for a moment and smiled at him. “Is it too cheesy if I say it's you?”

“It's sweet.” Spencer couldn't help but blush a little and let out a laugh and then get a little more serious. “What's your dream?”

It was a new question, so you weren't quite sure how to answer. It was unusual because no one had ever asked you that before, or at least not with such a genuine interest in your answer.

“Other than you? I think just peace of mind. Maybe a family, a dog, and a nice house. The usual.” You rambled a bit, unsure. “To be honest, I've had the same dreams as my sister all my life. I've always copied them, even the FBI idea. But we already know that didn't work out so well for me.” You faked a laugh and pointed to your leg.

You expected him to laugh, the last thing you wanted was a look of pity or a deepening of your childhood problems. But you knew him well enough to know that he wasn't the kind of person to let things go, he literally couldn't forget them.

“Don't feel sorry for me, please.” You said as you noticed how his caresses on your arm were getting softer and softer.

“It's not that. I just don't like it when you treat yourself badly.” He explained calmly. “You were good at the FBI anyway. You're good at everything.”

You let out a bitter little laugh. “I was only 'good' because my sister taught me how to fight. And without being able to do that, I'm no good.” You pointed with a smile on your face, not wanting to worry him. “But it's okay, you have the brains.”

“And you're smart, funny, pretty, and-” He started listing your attributes at a surprising pace, which made you stop him with a kiss.

He is deeply moved when he experiences the sensation of your lips on his. Your kisses always leave him feeling profoundly cherished. They are characterized by a gentle, soft, warm, and tender quality that makes him feel like he is the most precious thing in the world to you. It is enough to send an intoxicating wave of emotions through him, filling every inch of his body with warmth.

“Thank you.” You gave him a smile when your lips parted.

“I had a lot more to say.” He said, still a little flushed. He then tucked a lock of hair behind your ear, as if he wanted to see you better. “I could go on for days.”

You just smiled at him like you were head over heels, feeling like you could say 'I love you' right then and there.

But you didn't. Unfortunately, you were too afraid to do it that time.

March 29th, 2011

“Aren't you planning to eat?” Your sister asked you for the third time, taking a big sip of her coffee and looking at the croissant you still had untouched on your plate.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat and tried to cross your arms, but the wounds in your stomach still caused discomfort and you had to stifle a groan with a poor excuse. “I'm not hungry.”

Emily didn't say anything at first, just watched you, made you feel like just another criminal she was carefully profiling.

The two of you had been enjoying breakfast together at the table for several minutes without engaging in conversation. The dining room was peaceful, with only the sound of the clock on the wall to gently remind you that time was passing, whether you wanted it to or not.

And you really hoped the time would pass quickly so you could go home soon. But not fast enough for the people you loved to put you in the memory box that never opens.

“Can we have a normal conversation?” She asked, trying to break the awkward silence.

“I'm listening.” You finally make eye contact and stop looking out the window at the Eiffel Tower to look at her.

Then she gave that stern mother look, and you knew you were in trouble. “You have to eat. If you want, we can order something else.”

You didn't say anything, just looked at her tired face and sighed a little, feeling a twinge of guilt for not accepting her attempts to make the atmosphere more pleasant. You didn't know how to tell her that your frustration and pain went far beyond the physical, that it was something you felt in your heart and that no special food or doctor could fix. Everything was already taking its toll on you.

“I know this is tough, but please don't make it worse. I'm here for you.” She put her hand over yours and gave you a little squeeze, trying to show support. “We're in this together. You have me to lean on.”

You couldn't help but frown. Now she seemed so open with you, it was surprising to think of all the secrets she had kept from you before. There was literally a part of her life you didn't know about. She hid from you for years that she was on a covert mission, that she was babysitting someone else's child from afar, and that a terrorist was one of the ghosts that kept her on the defensive from everyone, including you. And none of that was the worst of it, because that place was occupied, because she didn't even seem to care how that affected you.

You had always been too much for everyone but Emily. She had always known how to carry your weight as if it were no obligation.

At least, that's the way it used to be.

“I know you miss Spencer. I do, too. But I promise you, he's fine.” She interrupted you when she noticed that your voice trailed off and your eyes glazed over, as if you were about to burst into tears just hearing his name. “He's safe.”

Mentioning him so suddenly was like walking through a minefield and hoping a bomb wouldn't go off.

“He thinks we're dead.” You said, feeling a chill run down your spine.

“And we both know why that is.”

“Yeah, but if...” You tried to start talking, but she quickly cut you off.

“Please don't start.” She abruptly put the cup she was holding in one hand down on the table and turned the other away from you. “We've been through this many times.”

Tick.

“But it's not fair.” You got up from your seat suddenly, feeling a couple of tears running down your cheeks and worry welling up in Emily. “It's going to be a month of this already.”

“We're not going back now. It's still dangerous for everyone.” She stood up behind you, trying to talk some sense into you. “We'll come back when it's time.”

Tock.

“And when will it be time? How much longer? You told me it would be a short time and now...” Your daily round of questions since you two had arrived there had begun once again.

“Please stop acting like a little girl.” Emily spoke up before she could think through her words.

Boom.

Oh, that was something your mother would say, not your sister. She would never judge you for being afraid and sentimental.

“Am I a little girl for wanting to know when we will have our lives back?” You asked after a few seconds to process her words. “I'm sorry, I don't have your mental strength to take it. I don't have a JJ to talk to and play online games with every time I drown in here. I don't have anyone but you, and I feel like you don't even trust me.”

The words had come out of your mouth without much thought, and you realized that they might have caused some distress when you saw her expression.

“I trust you, you're my little sister.” She came up to you slowly, trying to show you that what you said wasn't true. “I've known you since you were born. There's no one I trust and care about more.”

“And where was that confidence when you needed help?” The question came out of you automatically before you went to your room.

As soon as you laid your face on the pillow, you thought about how much you needed the people who were away at that moment, especially the one who was your voice of reason. You felt a certain longing for their presence.

September 21st, 2011

Spencer was frozen in place because you weren't there.

There was no trace of your presence in the room, and his heart threatened to burst with pain. His eyes were tired of desperately searching for you, and his mouth was tired of holding back questions about your whereabouts because the answer frightened him.

“I'm really sorry, but I've wanted to tell everyone the truth for a long time.” Emily said after several unexpected hugs and reunions. It was only then that her gaze fell on him. “Reid.”

“She is...?” His voice was cut off before he could finish his sentence. The mere possibility that his mind had been playing tricks on him all this time tore him apart.

“Alive.”

In that moment, all other concerns in his life receded into the background, including the intense discomfort in his hand. His world had once again come crashing down, and the pain he was experiencing seemed to lose its meaning in the midst of it all.

His heart seemed to start beating again after seven months of complete inactivity just by hearing that word. The few tears he had left moistened his eyes, momentarily blurring his vision and preventing him from seeing how everyone around him looked at him. Just one word kept going through his mind.

Alive. Alive. Alive.

You have been alive all this time.

“Where is she?” He asked instantly, anxious. He took another quick look around the room, but you weren't there. “Why isn't she here?”

Just from the apologetic look Emily gave him before she spoke, he knew something was wrong. “I haven't heard from her in almost two months.”

The sentence lingered in the air for a few seconds before it was processed. It was difficult to imagine that you would stay away from your sister for so long. That didn't seem like you.

“Why?” Penelope was so intrigued that she couldn't help but ask the question before anyone else in the room had a chance to. “Is she okay?”

The woman was clearly uneasy under the intense scrutiny of her colleagues, who kept glancing at her as if she were a ghost. “We had a disagreement, and she left. All I know is that she's here somewhere in the city trying to protect all of you.”

As it turned out, Spencer wasn't crazy. He really did see you on the street. It really was you all this time.

“I know this is a bad time, but I was hoping you could help me find her because I really don't know...” Emily tried to speak again, her voice cracking.

At that moment, JJ gently put a hand on her shoulder and approached the group, having spent several minutes in contemplative silence. “We've located her.” She noted respectfully, giving Reid a look that conveyed guilt and regret for what was happening. “And she is here.”

All eyes were riveted to the door of the room at that moment, waiting for you to be there to resolve some doubts and heal other pains. The hearts seemed to explode with the expectation of a new confrontation, of you being part of the miracle.

Because it was a miracle that you and Emily were alive, right?

“Hello.” Your voice echoed in the room and made everything fade away.

The mere sound of your voice, after months of hearing it only through old videos and voice memos, had Spencer leaning on the table with one hand and the other on his heart, trying to keep it from falling out of his chest.

God, you were there. Really there.

It was you again. Unmistakably you.

April 10th, 2011

“Hello?”

The telephone, which had been in your possession, suddenly became detached from your grasp and hung precariously close to the ground. You were overcome with a sudden rush of emotion, your body trembled, your breathing ceased, and your eyes brimmed with tears as you heard your boyfriend's voice.

“Hello? Who is this?” You listened as Spencer repeated when you had the strength to pick up the phone again and put it to your ear. “Hello?”

It's me, I love you, I'm sorry.

That's all you had to tell him, because it was the truth, even though he might not like it and it might ruin his day to find out about your charade. He had a right to know. Especially since he was the best thing in your life and you were the worst thing, causing him so much pain. You shouldn't have to be a psychic to know that he was suffering.

All those candid conversations you had with him about the challenges of losing loved ones were truly impactful. In a way, you were now one of the people he'd lost.

“What are you doing? Who are you talking to?” Emily's voice startled you, so you quickly hung up the phone, trying not to look suspicious. But she knew you too well to deceive her. “Please tell me you didn't do what I think you did.”

You didn't say a word, and that was enough.

“Please.”

“I was just thinking about what if. I didn't do anything, I didn't call anyone.” You raised your hands in innocence and walked away from the phone calmly because you knew you had already hung up. “I'm not a fool.”

That's nonsense. You were a fool for love and always have been.

Perhaps you loved too much, or perhaps you didn't love at all and just enjoyed the feeling of being loved. Your negative thoughts were causing you to doubt the reality of your experiences with Spencer. He seemed too good to be true, and you sought reassurance in his voice to confirm that you weren't losing touch with reality. The idea of trying to explain this to your sister made you feel self-conscious and a bit foolish.

“Okay.” She said in a calm tone, even though he didn't believe a word of it. She took you by the arm gently and spoke again. “I've found a store you'll like.”

You simply nodded and followed her because you felt it was important to avoid making it all about you.

September 21st, 2011

The person you had been waiting months to see had left the room upon seeing you, as if you were some kind of plague threatening to kill him. You felt a sense of loss, as if your heart had died in that instant, while you received the deep embrace of your older sister and the occasional dismayed look from the people who used to know you.

“You should go talk to him.” Emily said, her voice conveying concern and empathy, which caught you off guard. Her hand was still on your lower back, and it felt comforting.

You were at a loss for words, so you simply nodded and left the room to find him.

It was quite remarkable how you were able to locate his troubled figure so quickly after stepping out into the hallway. It seemed as if your intuition had guided you directly to where he was. You felt a pang of guilt as you noticed Spencer standing in front of the large wall with pictures of those killed in action, looking specifically at the lower portion where your picture was next to Emily's. It seemed somewhat incongruous that you were there, given that you no longer officially worked for the FBI and your death hadn't been in the field. However, you assumed someone had pulled strings to put you next to your sister.

“Spencer.” His name came out of your mouth slowly and painfully after you had avoided saying it for seven months. Your arms wrapped around him before you had a chance to think about what you were doing. You just wanted to feel him close and be reassured that he was real. “I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.”

He remained silent and still, seemingly unaware of your presence, as you clung to his body like a life preserver in the midst of a storm.

God, you needed him so much.

Just when you thought maybe he hadn't heard you because he hadn't even flinched at your voice, he turned away from you and spoke. “I've been looking at these pictures every day for seven months now, every time I pass by or get a chance to come by. I'm trying to convince myself that you were dead, really dead, and that I'm not freaking out already.” His tone was as cold and sharp as a knife edge. “And now you're here.”

As soon as you became aware of the absence of its presence, you felt a bit disoriented. You took a few seconds to regain your composure before you looked at your picture with a hint of disappointment and considered removing it from the wall, but you realized it was firmly attached and it might not be the most constructive approach. Removing it wouldn't address the underlying issue.

“I'm sorry, it wasn't my...just try to understand me.” You could only stammer at that moment, unable to excuse yourself.

“I can't do it. I understand Emily's motives a little better. She wanted to protect you, us, and herself. But you...” He paused, as if the words weighed so heavily that he needed to take a breath before saying them. “You knew when I was afraid of going really crazy, and yet you let me think I was losing my mind.”

His words had a profound impact, evoking a growing sense of emotional distress. You felt a deep sense of regret for causing pain to someone who had done nothing to deserve it.

“I know I hurt you, but I didn't mean to. I swear.” You spoke to him with a trembling voice, trying to control your need to walk up to him and take his hand in the same loving way as before. “I know you suffered, I did too, and I thought of you every day I was gone.”

He let out a short, frustrated sound and paced the room a few times before meeting your eyes again. You didn't need to take into account what the FBI had taught you about human behavior, because he went way beyond that and none of it was likely to help you now. You had gotten to know Spencer very well and had never seen him as upset as he was now. No manual could help you know what to do.

“I bet you thought about me and felt bad, right? But you know what the difference between us is?” His tone was harsh, but his gaze seemed so fragile it hurt you. “You woke up every day to an empty bed, and I woke up next to a grave. It could never be the same.”

Your lips were sealed because you knew he was absolutely right and nothing you could say would change that.

“Please, Spencer, wait.” You followed him down the hallway before he could leave and saw him stop to look at you doubtfully. You never before imagined that the one who used to watch you with such expectation and love was going to watch you as if you were a phony. “I love you.”

He frowned and lifted his shoulders. “It's too late for that.”

It is possible that it was.

Tag List ♥︎ : @rosieinvienna @florencespirit @jiuseoks @rinsie @guiltyyassin

If you'd like to be included in the tag list, please leave a comment here or in one of the other parts of the series, and I'll add you. It's the same if you want to be removed, just let me know.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #matthew gray gubler

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dilf-rot · 17 hours

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Avoidant Attachment

based on Anon request : could you do a fic of meeting Logan and wade in the void and joining the team? Logan and you are into each other but are kinda awkward hide behind being mean to each other wades so over it later on smuttt <3333

Word Count: 5841

Tags: Wolverine x Reader, Worst!Wolverine x Reader, Logan howlett x Reader, Fem!Reader (kinda?), Wade is here too, Meeting in the Void, Deadpool 3, Deadpool and Wolverine, Laura is Also here, 5 people in a one bedroom apartment is a great idea, Althea is here briefly, dogpool mention, slower burn but like not really, mutual pining, Wade and Laura as wingmen, insults as flirting, eventual smut, One bed trope included, P in V, Riding

AN: This one took a lot longer than I was expecting, probably since I haven’t written Wade before and I didn’t want it to suck, and also because I was quite busy irl. Regardless, thank you for the request and your patience, Hope you don’t mind my interpretation of the prompt<3

MDNI 18+

—------------------

The Void. Boring as Hell, and yet somehow worse than hell. At least Hell would grant you company, shitty company, but better than the dust and trash here. You don’t even remember why you got put here. Probably some bullshit you weren’t even responsible for. You had a pretty lame set up, just a hole in the ground really. And you’d find garbage to shift through, look for food. You had managed to do pretty well on your own for a decent amount of time. Other than being lonely, and the occasional breakdown, things weren’t so bad.

The air was stale and unremarkable, as was the sky, no sign of oncoming doom or any excitement for the day. Or so you thought.

Over the horizon of dusty dirt and forgotten garbage, appeared two silhouettes.

As they approached, inching closer and closer you debated on whether you should interact or just ignore, they didn’t seem like they had been here long.

You watched closely waiting for your moment to make a move. Listening to them as they approached.

Deadpool. Common, usually annoying.

But the one with him. That’s a rather rare sight. You had never seen one of him before.

They seemed like they were on a mission, maybe trying to escape from here. If you could escape, maybe you could return to something approaching a normal life again.

You decide to take the chance.

“Hello,” You pop out from your little shelter. Both men jolt into action, blades and guns drawn. The man in yellow, the interesting rare man, had blades coming out of his hands. “Oh no, not a threat.”

They regard each other and then put the weapons away.

“Knew I smelt something,” his voice was rough and it added to his appeal for sure.

“And you didn’t want to say anything? Some blood hound you are!” Deadpool spoke, punching the gruff one in the shoulder.

“Sorry, I know you’re a Deadpool. But you are?” You point to him.

“Logan,” “Wolverine,” they speak out in tandem.

“Right, so… what’re you doing this far out?”

“Not telling you random dirt dweller,” Deadpool looked back towards Logan, and seemed to be weighing his options.

“Ok well, if you decide to be friendly I could offer my help.”

“You don’t look like you’d be of much help,” Logan retorted as he looked you over. You were obviously smaller and not as strong as either of them, but you had some tricks up your sleeve.

“Ouch, I would be offended if you didn’t have hair like kitty ears.” You pointed up at Logan’s hair and he seemed surprised by your response. “I’ve been in the void longer than you, I’m sure I know some things that would be useful to you,”

“Listen, Kid-”

“Yeah, me and Kitty Cat here are trying to get back at that bald freak show of a woman and escape this hell. So unless you know how to do that, I’d stay out of it, dust bunny.”

You laugh and look at the state of them, confused but still combative, barely holding it together and hardly friends. “That’s a good one. Good luck with Cassandra then, Ketchup and Mustard.”

Deadpool gasps and Logan seems to have the inklings of a smile on his face but it quickly fades when you turn to look at him. You sit down on a nearby piece of rubble and watch as they take a few steps away and start to argue about what the plan is. You smile and wave when they look back at you.

“Ok, so what do you know?” Deadpool asks, rushing back up to you. And so you do your best to fill him in on as much as you know about the void itself and Cassandra. All of which seems to not be that useful to him as he just sort of brushes it off and continues, “Well as much as I’d love to have you on the team sunshine, seems like Wolvie over there isn’t too keen on it.” He points over to Logan, who turns away and kicks some dust and debris around. “But, between you and me, he’s just bad with girls. Especially pretty ones with quick mouths.”

You blush a bit but return a quick retort, “That’s fine, not like I have anything to escape back to anyway. Good luck, random Deadpool.”

“It’s Wade.”

“Right,” You wave as he runs back to Logan. You imagined it wouldn’t be that long before you see them again, mostly because you had planned on following them, or at least trailing them for long enough to find a new place to stay.

—-----------

You meet them again at the safe house with Laura, she drove them here and plopped them down without a word. She had been very welcoming when you had wandered this way in search of food, and let you join them for a quick meal. You had told her that you saw Wolverine, and her interest had been piqued. She explained to you everything that had happened before she was sent here, and the two of you bonded over not having something to return too. Although now, with this Wolverine sitting in the same space, it seemed like her chances were looking up.

You figured you’d let them be once they woke up, and wait it out. By the time everyone had finished their speeches, you just stood behind them and waved. You didn’t have much to say, everyone else had much more valid reasoning for wanting to escape than you. You could hardly remember life before the void, if you even had one. Luckily, nobody ever bothered to press you about it, probably assuming you had forgotten for a valid reason. So when Deadpool- Wade, asked you for your input, you sort of just shrugged. Listening to them all plotting was entertaining at least, you were sure you would be of much use, maybe an extra distraction, at the very least you could cover them enough to get the job done.

You noticed Logan slip out with a bottle of liquor in his hands. You gave Laura a nod before following him outside.

He had started a fire, and was sitting watching the flames.

“So how’d someone like you end up with someone like that?” You gesture back up to the house, as you stand against a tree, watching the fire flicker in front of him.

“It’s complicated.” He says taking a swig from the bottle.

“It always is.” Silence runs through the trees, nothing but crackling fire and the dead stale air of the void. “At least he seems fun.”

“Hah,” He breathes out.

“If that’s what you’re into.”

“No.” His gruff demeanor drops for a second, the bottle halting as he brings it down from his lips.

“No?”

He looks you over, before turning away.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it. I’ll say a prayer for your liver,” You reference the bottle in your hand. He nods, and you walk back up to the house, passing Laura on your way in. She’d probably have better luck cracking him than you.

You wondered if you would ever have a chance to mean something to him, to be more than some small tag along he sniffed out in the dirt. If he would ever find you to be a friend, an ally, someone to talk to, depend on. But you hardly just met, and hardly discussed anything other than half baked insults and nihilistic opinions of the void and your futures.

—----------------

Wade and Logan had somehow convinced the TVA after everything with Cassandra to allow you and Laura to stay in this universe, and you weren’t sure how or why they wanted you to come along. Laura made sense, he felt responsible for her, and to make up for losing her Logan, to make up for missed moments.

You? You hardly had a clue why they wanted you here. Or why they offered to let you stay with them until you found something else. You were surprised that Althea would agree to having 5 people sleeping in a tiny apartment. You appreciated the shelter, you were just very very confused by the entire situation.

“Hello my little floor sleeper, how were your dreams? You were moaning about something…” He slides up next to you in the kitchen as you're pouring a cup of coffee.

“Hi, Wade.” You sip from the mug, not answering his nonsense.

“So,” he jumps up to sit on the counter in front of you, “You gonna spill? Tell me all about your honey badger dream fling? I was surprised you didn’t just wake up and mount him right there on the floor.”

“Shut up, I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

“Come on, the three of us sleep in the same tiny space, I hear everything.”

“I’m gonna steal the couch space from you if you don’t drop it.”

Laura had been given a space in Althea’s room since the boys figured she deserved it, and You, Logan, and Wade were stuck in the living room. Rotating between the couch and cheap air mattresses, usually you just stayed on the floor and let Logan and Wade fight over the couch space. Compared to sleeping on grass and dirt in the void, an air mattress was a definite improvement. As long as Mary Puppins didn’t lick you to death in your sleep, it wasn’t a bad deal.

“Come on, just admit you like Loggie Bear and I’ll get you some alone time with or without the couch.”

“Don’t you have anything better to do?”

“Currently, no.”

You sigh, and walk towards the bathroom to change, locking the door behind you as Wade continues to ramble and try to get you to slip and say something about Logan. But you won’t, even if he is right.

There were many nights where you thought about climbing into bed next to him and pressing your face against his chest, breathing in his scent, being held close to him by those utterly ridiculous arms, having him place warm chaste kisses against the top of your head. But you wouldn’t.

You hardly knew him, and what you knew about him led you to believe that he was not the kind of man to be interested in someone like you. Although he had become more pleasant after having been invited into Wade’s life. Some days he still was that gruff sort of emotionally unavailable man you met in the void, but other days he’s sweet and gentle and kind, usually whenever Laura’s around. It’s as if he’s been given a reason to live again and he’s navigating how to be a person again.

After you get dressed, you grab your bag and head out, avoiding Wade and his nonsense. You told Laura you’d meet her after her class and go to a cafe she’s been wanting to try. It’s just down the street from the apartment, but the walk is nice and gives you time to get your thoughts back in order. Trying to keep Wade’s pestering from seeping in and getting you to slip up.

When you get to the cafe, Laura is waiting for you outside. You go in and are met with soft florals, sleek wood finish, and the overwhelming smell of coffee. It is so cozy and bright, a welcome break from the dim and crowded apartment. Laura orders something you didn’t know was a thing, and you opt for a simple latte. She finds this funny and smiles at you, “Don’t you want something sweet?”

“No, I’m alright.” You lean against the wall as you wait for your order.

“What’s with you and Logan’s hatred for sugar?” She asks as she slides over to stand next to you.

“I don’t hate sugar, I’m just not in the mood for it.” You shrug and stare at the counter.

“At least you get milk with your coffee, better than black like Logan drinks.” She laughs again and grabs your order when it’s called. The two of you find a nice table by the window and enjoy watching the people passing by. When a particularly handsome man passes by, Laura perks up and asks, “How about that one?”

“He’s alright, not really my type though,” You shrug your shoulders and take another sip from your cup.

“You’re right, I already know your type.” The grin on your face reminds you of how Wade greets you in the mornings.

“Oh yeah? What's that?” You look at her quizzically.

“Starts with an L and ends with an ogan”

You groan, “Don’t I get enough of that from Wade?”

“I think everyone can see it but you, even Al.” She looks up at you from her drink, in a way you both know she’s right.

“Wow,” is all you can muster in response.

“I don’t know why you won’t do something about it, and look if you’re worried about me, don’t be. I give you full permission to pursue my not Dad kinda Dad.”

You quickly try to change the subject, and once your coffee's finished and you’ve loitered around, you walk back in a knowing silence.

You do have some sort of crush on Logan, but you feel like it would be too ideal to expect him to share those feelings. Especially when you aren’t one hundred percent sure what those feelings even are. He is exceptionally good looking, and well built. If it weren’t for his confrontational attitude and lack of expression, you’d be so certain in your attraction. But there is something blocking you from fully admitting it to yourself.

Maybe it is simply your lack of self, having to build back an identity from nothing, that keeps you from knowing if He is it for you. Even though sometimes he is all you can think about. When you catch him playing dad with Laura. When you catch him helping Althea, a gentle smile plastered on his face as he speaks soft and gentlemanly. When he falls asleep on the couch with Mary Puppins in his arms. The images of the side he works so hard to hide, the soft domesticity he allows himself so rarely. That is what really sticks in your brain.

Along with the less than innocent images you have carved into your brain. Like that time he forgot you were home and came out from the bathroom only wrapped in a towel. The water clinging to his muscles and dripping from his hair. Or when he had his sleeves rolled up while walking around the apartment, the skin shiny from sweat, and all you could think about was what it would feel like to be held in place by them.

When you remember yourself, both you and Laura have made it back to the apartment.

—-------

You were surprised that for once, everyone was home for dinner, and it wasn’t even a special occasion. Wade decided that it would be easiest to order some pizzas to avoid having to cook. You didn’t complain, even if you would have preferred a home cooked meal, pizza was fine. Of course he had gone to pick it up and left you with Logan, Laura, and Althea. She, reasonably so, had her spot already picked out in the armchair by the window. Logan and Laura were sitting on opposite sides of the couch, watching something on tv. All the while you sat on the floor, legs folded over each other, leaning back on your hands.

“Why don’t you come sit on the couch?” Laura had asked, and you knew she already knew the answer, which was that you didn’t want to be so close to Logan that you would be touching. You had been cultivating a very specific environment with him, one where if you could just avoid any close contact with him, you could pretend like your heart didn't ache at the thought of him.

“I’m good here,” You didn’t bother looking away from the tv, which you weren’t even watching.

“Come on,” Laura patted the cushion next to her.

“Maybe I don’t want to sit next to the cat,” You looked over your shoulder at them. Logan was leaning back into the cushions behind him.

“I don’t want to sit next to you either,” His tone was only slightly malicious.

“Good.”

“Just sit on the couch,” Laura insisted.

“No. He reeks, I think the animal dna gave him the scent too,” You waved your hand in front of your nose.

“But I don’t smell,” Laura sniffed her shirt.

“You reek too, ya know?” Logan pointed to Mary Puppins in the corner, “Probably cause you’re always sleeping next to that.”

“Thanks. She’s actually a better roommate than you.”

“You all stink,” Althea commented from her spot.

As you stood up to walk towards the kitchen the door swung open. “PIZZA TIME!” Wade shouted, carrying the stack of boxes into the apartment.

You ate mostly in silence, as Wade rambled on about something or someone that you had no interest in. Lately he was obsessed with those trashy reality tv shows were people all live in one house and things go wrong one way or another. You felt like you were already living in that, no need to watch strangers go through it too. It’s not that you felt like you were walking on eggshells, or that you weren’t welcome. More so that you were waiting for this whole thing to blow up in your face.

—---------

It was late in the morning when you managed to roll out of your bed. Logan and Wade had already been awake and were trying their hardest to be quiet. Rather, Logan was quiet, and Wade was not. You didn’t hear what they were talking about, only that Logan mumbled something under his breath and Wade turned to see you sitting up on the floor.

“Good morning sleeping beauty! Pancakes or waffles?” He turned to you and you saw he was wearing one of those tacky ‘kiss the chef’ aprons.

You rubbed the sleep from your eyes and stood up to stretch, “Whichever you’re less likely to burn.”

Wade feigned offense, as you walked into the bathroom to brush your teeth and hair. “How do you manage to sleep so soundly down there?” Wade called from the kitchen as you walked back into the living room.

“I don’t.” You pulled out a chair and sat at the dining table, still groggy. “Which is why I need to get a job, and my own place.”

“You’re leaving me?” Wade gasped, and crossed his hands over his heart. “How could you? What about the kids?” He started making a big fuss about it as if you hadn’t told him before that this had been your plan. “I can’t believe you would leave me alone with honey badger and the little ones! I can’t raise them alone.”

“Everyone that lives here is an adult, Wade.”

“Let her be,” Laura said as she slid into the kitchen and sat next to you. She smiled at you and nodded.

Wade and Logan joined you at the table, sliding the plates of pancakes to you and her. They weren’t burnt, which was progress.

—--------

You had spent the day job hunting, and apartment hunting, which was not as important since you kinda needed the money first. The cafe you had been to with Laura was hiring, though not having much of a resume due to the whole void and lack of a world thing, probably meant your chances of getting hired were slim. You submitted an application anyway, and to a few other shops and things in the area. Hopefully something would stick.

There really weren't many options in the area for apartments either, but when you ran into the building manager they had mentioned that one of the other units on your floor might be opening up soon. It wasn’t ideal to be in the same building as Wade and the others, but it was your only lead at the moment.

When Wade got home, he had a sort of look in his eyes, which you had learned meant something was up. And when Laura came home with the same sort of look, you were even more suspicious.

“What are you two doing?” You asked, approaching them in the kitchen.

“Well I thought I could do something nice for you,” Wade had his hands behind his back, holding something hidden from you. “And Logan,” he whispered but you still caught it.

“What?” Logan appeared from the bathroom, and leaned against the wall.

Wade handed you a piece of paper, “Tada!” You looked over the paper, it was a reservation confirmation for a hotel. “A magical getaway for you and the kitty cat to work out your differences at an all inclusive resort!”

“This is a Best Western.” The dates on the sheet were for tomorrow, Friday, until Sunday morning.

“Did I stutter?” Wade stood with his hands on his hips.

“Who said I wanted to do this?” Logan asked, coming up behind you to look at the paper. He was so close you could almost feel his warmth against you.

“Come on, you complain about the air mattress all the time,” Laura started, “This is your chance for a real bed.”

“Ok? So why do I have to go with her,” He was looming behind you, and the deep vibrations of his voice made your cheeks redden.

“It was cheaper to have two guests than one.”

“Fine,” He walked away. You were also surprised that he would so quickly agree to something like this. As it was so obviously a set up. A plot against you.

“Perfect! Now go get packing!” Wade slapped you on the shoulder, and smiled. You knew this was all his idea.

—-------

You were expecting this to be a set up, but when you opened the door and saw only one bed you knew it to be true. Logan walks in while you hold the door and he drops down onto the edge of the bed. You sigh as you drag your bag in and make a mental note to get back at Wade later. You turn the TV on to try to dispel the oppressive silence in the room, but all that's on the hotel cable is questionably written Hallmark movies. Logan shifts on the bed, and you hear it creak under his weight. You wonder what he would feel like on top of you, if he would crush you entirely.

You sit in the chair that's against the wall, peering out through the cracks in the curtains to stare out at the parking lot, the sun is low against the horizon, and it’s surprisingly quiet. You can hear the fabric of the cheap hotel sheets rustling under Logan, along with the sound of his breathing, as he leans back into the bed, and you wonder how long you’ll be able to survive in a small room alone with him.

Despite having slept in the same room for the past few months, this is an entirely different situation. There’s no Wade, or Laura, or Mary puppins, or Althea. It is just you and him, in a hotel room, with one bed. Which was certainly a set up from Wade, in his quests to get you to admit your feelings for Logan.

“Are you hungry?” You try to break the silence in the most mundane way possible, at least to save yourself from the discomfort.

“I could eat,”

“We could get room service?”

“Fine by me.” You toss him the menu and once you both decide on what to get you call it in. It was going to take a while, so you decided to take advantage of the luxury of a hotel shower. Telling Logan you wouldn’t be too long and to let you know if the food came before you were done.

The shower is nice, clean white tiles, and a rather standard sort of set up. It is nice to have some time to yourself, despite Logan being in the other room, you try to allow yourself this time to relax. Letting the hot water soak into your skin and soothe your aches and pains. The sound of the water blocking out any thoughts or concerns about the current situation, letting you forget, at least momentarily, that you would be having to sort out the sleeping arrangements. The hotel soap is tropical, but gentle, not too overwhelmingly sweet or fruity. As you lather up you can barely hear the sounds of the tv in the other room. It is so still and unremarkable. It feels normal, but somehow you wonder if you can ever shake the loneliness of time in the void, if you can allow yourself to have a normal life again. As if you can build back something you don’t even remember. As if you deserve this space that has miraculously been carved out for you, for some reason unbeknownst to you.

Your thoughts are interrupted by the sound of a knock on the door, and the noise of Logan’s steps going to retrieve the room service. You quickly rinse and towel off, wrapping up your hair and sliding into the hotel bathrobe.

“Food’s here,” Logan calls from behind the bathroom door. You wait until you hear him sit back down on the bed before opening the door and returning to your spot in the chair.

The two of you eat in silence, and you can’t help but notice his eyes on you. You wonder if it is just in your head, or if he is actually trying to steal glances at you from across the way. You tried to ignore him, to stare fully at the trash tv movie, or at the weird art on the walls. Anything but him. If you could just pretend like he wasn’t there, you could make it for the next two nights.

Although being this close to him in a small hotel room was not the ideal scenario to make forgetting about him easy. His breathing was audible. His presence was palpable. Even the vague scent of whiskey, cigars, and sweat was radiating from his position on the bed. Every little detail filled your mind with a fog, and all that was running through your brain was him. Over and over. Logan was everywhere.

“You want to sleep soon?” His voice cut through the haze and you practically snapped your neck to look over at him.

“Hm? Oh… uh yeah probably.” You couldn’t help but look directly into his eyes, and you felt like you should disappear so that he couldn’t make you feel so foolish. So utterly trapped by the idea of him. “I can Just take the cushions from the chair and sleep on the floor,”

“That defeats the whole point of Wade’s gift.”

“So?” You started pulling the cushions of the chair and throwing them on the floor.

“You can sleep up here in the bed,” His voice was commanding. It was no longer a polite suggestion. “I don’t bite.”

“Right but-” As you go to protest, he interrupts.

“We can face opposite ways.”

And so that is how you ended up in your pajama shorts and a ratty tee shirt, in bed with Logan. Who, true to his word, had his back facing you, and you had your back facing him. You could hear your heart beating, and no matter what you told yourself you could not get it to slow down. His presence, only inches away, was consuming you. Your mind is unable to stop racing with images of him holding you down, touching you, eating you alive. Making you squirm beneath him. You squirmed and thrashed trying to get comfortable enough to fall asleep, but even with your eyes screwed shut you couldn’t.

“Stop moving,” Logan’s voice was low and rumbly. He turned towards you, and laid his arm over your middle, pulling your back against him. “Go to sleep,” He murmured, his lips against the back of your head.

He was warm and solid behind you, his body pressed to yours gently. His grasp on you wasn’t tight, but the sheer weight of him kept you firmly in place. As you tried to quell your heart and steady your breathing, you finally managed to drift asleep. And stay asleep, the entire night.

—-----

The hotel was so quiet and peaceful, and clean, compared to the apartment. You managed to sleep soundly, and stay asleep until late in the morning. You had nearly forgotten about the situation, until you were met with Logan’s arm still snuggly wrapped around you as you opened your eyes.

His lips were pressed to the back of your head, his muscular frame firmly pressed against your back. His grip had tightened in the night, and he had pulled you even closer to himself. As you tried to remove yourself from him, he grumbled against you, “Stay.”

“Logan-” You tried to protest, to escape from the growing embarrassment and heat building up in your body.

“Just a bit longer.” He groaned, and pressed himself further into you. Your breath caught in your throat as you felt the growing bulge against your lower back.

“Logan, please. Let me get up.” You pushed against his arm, and tried to pull yourself away but you were no match for him.

“Why?” His voice was losing the grogginess of sleep, he was almost fully awake now.

“Because-” You tried again to free yourself.

“Don’t you like me?” He sounded cocky, the question perhaps meaning to be playful but it stopped you dead in your tracks.

“I-” You stiffen, unable to react accordingly.

“Then, stay.” Taken aback by his words and sudden clingy behavior, you realized that maybe Laura had been right, and everyone, including Logan, could see it. The way you had begun to feel about him, the almost immediate crush you developed as soon as you spotted him in the void, the way you felt thankful to have the chance at life again, simply because you wanted the chance to spend it with him.

You lay stuck in his arms for an unknown amount of time, the silence makes you a little uneasy, but his warmth and tenderness keeps you from leaping away. You didn’t imagine him to be someone so gentle, although you had glimpsed some of his more domestic behaviors when he thought it was just Him and Laura at home, and he would fuss over her like how you would want a good father to do. You felt safe and held by him, the frantic thoughts and anxieties being melted away into the warmth of him and his body against yours.

As you nearly drift asleep again, he speaks, “Turn around.” And so you do, clumsily, but when you see his face those frantic thoughts and the racing of your heart begins again.

“So pretty like this,” He murmurs, his face and voice soft. And before you can respond he closes the gap between you, his hand lacing in your hair and pulling you into him as he presses his lips against your gentle and steady. The brief taste of him makes you crave more.

As he pulls away to search your face for any signs of discomfort, you pull him back to you, your hands reaching up to his face to crash your lips into his. You whimper against him as his hands run down your spine and land on your hips, pulling you as close to him as he can. You can feel your arousal pooling between your thighs as he darts his tongue in to meet yours, twisting and tangling yourself with him as much as you can. The months of unspoken tension pouring out of you and dissipating as you desperately try to push yourself against him. You bring your hand down to paw at his bulge, darting your fingers across the fabric of his pajama pants.

He smiles against you as he catches your hand with his and bring it under the waistband. You gasp when you realize he had not been wearing anything underneath his pants. Your fingers wrapping around him, the warmth and size of him in your hand making your head spin.

His hands find their way to the edge of your shorts, pulling them and your panties down your legs as he breaks the kiss only for a moment to find his breath. His fingers trace up and down your thighs, pressing gentle circles into the skin before he pushes his hand between them, his palm pressing into you. The brief friction against your clit drawing a short moan from you. His hand rubs against you, the pressure making you grind down to meet him, craving more.

You whine as he pulls his hand away, only for him to grab your hips and pull you on top of him. His back against the bed as he brings you to straddle him. You kick your shorts and panties away, as he pulls his pants down further. His erection springing up against you. You can barely focus long enough to glimpse the size of him, too overcome with greed and arousal.

You sink yourself onto his cock as his hands guide your hips. You moan at the stretch of it. He lets you catch your breath as you take him down to the hilt. His hands never leave you as he kisses and nips along your neck and shoulders, your head pressed against his shoulder as he begins to rock into you, whispering praises and filth against your skin.

You grind your hips against his, the head of his cock dragging along that magic spot inside of you that causes the pleasure to build and the knot in your stomach to tighten. He growls in your ear as you tighten and pulse around him. You can feel the pressure building, making your head spin. He slips his fingers into your mouth and you greedily accept them, sucking and licking and kissing along them. He removes them and a trail of your saliva beads down them. He brings them between you to rub circles on your clit. The sensation dizzying, as he draws you closer and closer to the edge. Your moans are frantic as you practically pant against him, begging him not to stop, that you’re so close, so so close.

With one steady thrust he snaps the last thread and you come undone around him. The feeling of you cumming around him bringing him to his limit, if he wasn’t so enraptured by you he might have been embarrassed with how quickly you’ve made him cum. His warmth fills you as you come down from your high, hazy and drooling. You smile as he presses you against him. You don’t mind staying like this, you whine when he tries to move.

“Alright, princess. I’ll stay.” He smiles, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

#wolverine smut #logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #logan howlett smut #deadpool and wolverine

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vodika-vibes · 3 days

Text

A Joint Effort

Summary: When Crosshair’s girlfriend asks him to pick up some pads for her, he crowdsources a solution.

Pairing: TBB Crosshair x F!Reader

Word Count: 1300

Warnings: Mentions of periods, Crosshair is an asshole

A/N: This was born by an ask by @photolover40 and I couldn't get the idea out of my head.

Click HERE to be added to my Taglist

Crosshair yawns widely as he slowly meanders down the path from the house he shares with his brothers towards his girlfriend’s home. He could get there faster if he took a speeder, but it’s a nice day.

And Tech took the speeder apart for reasons.

Tech couldn’t, or maybe wouldn’t, tell him why he was taking the speeder apart, but Crosshair knows his twin. He’s either doing it because Phee said something to him that got him flustered and now he needs time to process, or because he’s planning on entering the speeder in a race.

Personally, he’d put credits on Phee.

He pauses when his comm chimes. It’s a cheerful little tune that he would never use if you paid him, but it’s the song his girlfriend loves the most right now, and so she insisted that he use it as his ringtone for her.

She’s lucky she’s cute, honestly.

“What?” Crosshair asks as he answers the holo.

“Is that any way to talk to your loving girlfriend?” He glances at her, and notices, immediately, that she’s lying on her bed. Specifically on her stomach on her bed, and it looks like she’s curled around a pillow.

His lips twitch up in a ghost of a smile, “Sorry, I thought you were my other girlfriend.”

She gasps theatrically, “I bet I’m cuter than her.”

His smile grows slightly, “I definitely like you more.”

“And the victory goes to me!”

Crosshair can’t help the fond laugh that falls from him as she rolls and pumps her fist in the air, “Did you need something, sarad? I’m already on my way to your place.”

She rolls back over and pulls her comm closer to her face, “Can you run by the store for me?”

“...why?”

“I’m out of pain medicine…and pads.”

Crosshair sighs heavily, already planning on the route that he’ll take to get to the store and then to her as quickly as possible, “You get your period monthly, kitten. How do you run out of pads?”

She makes a face, “Because I get it monthly, that’s how.”

“No.”

Her lower lip juts out in a pout, “Pllllease Cross? Pretty please?”

“It doesn’t matter how attractive the please is, I still won’t do it.”

She blinks at him and then shoots him a disgusted look, “You sound like Tech.” Crosshair can’t help the startled laugh that falls from him at that. “It’s fine, I guess. I’ll make it work. You said you’ll be here soon?”

“Soonish,” Crosshair corrects, a feeling of fondness welling up inside him. Force, he really does love her so much, “I decided to walk.”

Her nose scrunches up adorably, “Why?”

“Some people like physical activity, kitten.”

“Ew.”

He laughs again, “I’ll see you when I get there.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

She smiles at him, all soft and warm and loving, “Alright. I’ll see you then. Love you, Cross.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know.”

“Rude!” Still, her smile doesn’t fade as she disconnects the holo, so Crosshair isn’t all that worried that she’s actually upset at him. With that in mind, he shoves his comm back in his pocket and turns down the street to head to the shop.

10 minutes later, he finds himself standing in front of a wall of pink and purple. He already has her pain medicine, as well as some chocolate and some of those lemon bars that she loves so much. Plus a plush skeleton that he found near the medicine.

All that’s left is the actual pads.

Now, he’s not an idiot. He knows that his sarad prefers pads over tampons, she mentioned it to him once after they watched a tampon commercial. He also knows that she doesn’t like the scented stuff.

But that’s where his knowledge stops.

He picks up a pink box and scans the front, “Light flow? Overnight?” He sets the box down and picks up another box, “Panty liners? What’s the difference?”

Crosshair sets the box back and then folds his arms.

One the one hand, he could call his Kitten and ask what ones she wanted. On the other hand, if he does that then he won’t be able to surprise her. And he likes surprising her, her face lights up and she giggles and twirls in place and then kisses him until he’s breathless—

Asking her is out of the question.

He digs his comm out of his pocket and scrolls through his contacts, and then presses the button that will connect him to his twin.

“Crosshair? Is something wrong?”

“I need you to tell me what the difference it between pads for light flow, overnight, and panty liners.”

“...what?”

Crosshair sighs, “I’m picking up some stuff for my girl, will you help or won’t you?”

“Crosshair, I am not a woman, I do not know the answer.” Tech replies, “But we can ask Hunter and Wrecker. They might know.” Crosshair rolls his eyes, unable to help himself, as he waits for Tech to go inside and gather their other brothers.

“Shouldn’t ya buy a box of tampons? Isn’t that what women use?” Wrecker asks a moment later, after Tech explains the situation, “I was told that only teenagers use pads.”

“That’s not right,” Crosshair counters, “Where are you getting your information from?”

“Uh…online forums?”

“You should read other forums,” Tech says to Wrecker, “I have some links for you.”

“Oh, neat—”

“Shouldn’t you know what she uses?” Hunter asks as he wrestles the comm from Tech, “I mean, you’re dating her.”

“I have better things to do than search her cabinets for feminine hygiene products, Hunter.” Crosshair snarks.

Hunter nods, “Well, I know she doesn’t use scented ones.”

“No, she doesn’t.” Crosshair pauses, and then glares at his older brother, “How do you know that?”

“I can smell—”

Crosshair glares even harder.

“You know what, I’m removing myself from this conversation.” Hunter says after a moment, “And I’m calling in the expert.”

“What?”

“OMEGA!”

A few moments later, Omega’s face appears on the Holo, “Hi Cross!”

“Kid.”

“You should get regular,” Omega says without prompting, “Let me see the wall?” Crosshair turns so she can scan the wall, “Um…oh! There. Down near the bottom, a black box?”

“I see it.”

“That’s a pretty good brand, and they’re thin enough to be comfortable without sacrificing any protection.” Omega nods, “You should buy those. Even if they’re not her brand, they’ll work until she can get her brand.”

“Thanks, kid, you’re much less useless than the others.”

Omega beams at him, “Thanks! I’m going now. Good luck!”

And then the comm closes, and Crosshair releases a relieved sigh as he shoves it back into his pocket. Omega saves the day. He should buy her something nice.

Later, though. Right now he’s busy.

20 minutes later, he’s using his key to get into his kitten’s home, “I’m here!”

There are light footsteps from deeper in the house, and then her head pokes out from the kitchen, “You’re here!”

“I told you I’d be here soonish.” He holds up the bag, “Here.”

She tilts her head, curious.

“One chocolate bar. One stuffed animal. One bottle of pain medicine. And one box of pads.” Crosshair lists.

And, true to his expectations, her entire face brightens when she sees his surprise. A delighted giggle falls from her lips and she twirls, happily, into his arms, and flings her arms around his neck.

“I thought you said you wouldn’t!” She says with a bright grin as she stands on her toes and bumps her nose against his.

“I wanted to surprise you.”

“I am surprised!”

Crosshair flashes a tiny grin, “Good.” He’s not able to say anything more, as she closes the small distance between their lips and kisses him deeply.

And this, right here, is why Crosshair loves surprising her.

@imabeautifulbutterfly

@n0vqni

@bad4amficideas

@justiceandwar98

@Mira-Loves-Star-Wars

@tiredbi-peach

@dukeoftheblackstar

@trixie2023

@kimiheartblade

@padawancat97

@falconfeather23435

@etod

@bb8-99

@kiss-anon

@continous-mistakes

@yoitsjay

@liz-stat

@cc--2224

#star wars #tbb #tbb crosshair x reader #crosshair x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic

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fkinkindagauche · 2 days

Text

So Jealous

For @steddiesmuttyseptember week 3 prompts - rough, lingerie, and aftercare.

Rating: Explicit | WC: 2,077 | CW: BDSM (heavy-ish), jealousy play, third party doesn’t realize jealousy play is happening but they are in it for a very short amount of time and nothing actually happens with them aside from some dancing, consensual slut shaming | Tags: deep throating, anal sex, rough sex, BDSM, sub Steve Harrington, mean Dom Eddie Munson, aftercare, coming untouched, come marking, subspace, slapping, hair pulling, jealousy kink, spitting, established relationship

Author's Note: Steve and Eddie have previously agreed upon the scene that happens in this fic. Everything that happens has been discussed beforehand, even if they are pretending to be surprised/upset by things.

“You ready?” Eddie asked after they pulled into a parking space, reaching over to grab Steve’s hand and give it a squeeze.

Steve nodded. “Absolutely.”

“You’ll tell me if it’s too much? Traffic light system?”

“You know I will, baby.” Steve pulled their clasped hands up to his mouth and kissed the back of Eddie’s hand. “You, too. This was all my idea, don’t let me push you too far.”

Eddie nodded, giving Steve’s hand a final squeeze and getting out of the car.

They walked a few blocks from the parking garage to the club, hands held together swinging between them. Steve, dressed much skimpier than usual, shivered in the cold October air. He was wearing a pair of obscenely short shorts with fishnet stockings underneath and a bright pink crop top with the word “SLUT” bedazzled on the front in all caps. He’d put on makeup - glittery eye shadow and mascara, blush, and bright red lipstick. Eddie was wearing his usual outfit of ripped, tight black jeans, combat boots, and a faded band t-shirt.

They only had to wait a few minutes before being let into the club, a perk of arriving earlier in the evening. They split up as soon as they got inside, Steve heading to the bar as Eddie disappeared into the crowd on the dance floor. Steve wasn’t worried; he knew Eddie would be watching him the whole time.

As predicted, it took less than a minute for Steve to be approached at the bar. Steve looked up, seeing a preppy looking businessman type approach. That wouldn’t work. Eddie wouldn’t be jealous of a business bro. Steve shook his head apologetically, and the man backed off.

The next candidate looked like a better option - tall and burly, dressed all in black, with a definite mean edge to him. Very obviously a Dom. Steve gave him an inviting smile as he approached, leaning toward him.

“Can I buy you a drink, beautiful?” the man asked.

Steve nodded. “Yes, please,” he said, batting his eyelashes for maximum effect.

“What’s your name?” the man asked, flagging down the bartender.

Steve panicked slightly. He didn’t want to give this guy his real name, a reaction he hadn’t been expecting, so he hadn’t come up with an alias. “Bud,” he blurted out as his eyes fell on a bottle of Bud Light.

The man smirked. “Well, Bud, you can call me Pal.”

Steve let out a breathy laugh, reaching for the man’s meaty upper arm and leaning into him. ‘Pal’ ordered a Long Island Iced Tea for Steve (very classy, trying to get him drunk as fast as possible). Steve took a few sips, then pulled the man toward the dance floor.

He started to dance, arms above his head and hips swaying. The man came up behind him, pressing his pelvis against Steve’s ass, hands coming to rest on the front of Steve’s hips. They danced for a few minutes, the man’s hands trailing all over Steve, who was honestly a little shocked at how long Eddie was holding out.

Finally, when Steve started to feel a hand trying to worm its way into the waistband of his shorts, he felt someone else grab his wrist and yank him away from the groping hands of Pal. It was Eddie, of course, and he looked incredibly pissed off.

“You little slut,” he hissed at Steve. “I walk away to the bathroom for one second and you’re already letting someone get his hands all over you.”

“Whoa, sorry, man,” Pal said, raising his hands up and backing away.

“We’re leaving,” Eddie said, tugging Steve toward the door. “I don’t have to put up with this.”

Steve let Eddie drag him toward the door, walking back to the car at a pace way too fast for the heels Steve had on, which Eddie was well aware of. Steve’s calves were burning by the time Eddie shoved him into the passenger seat of the car.

He wouldn’t speak to Steve on the ten-minute drive home, meeting all of Steve’s attempts to explain with silence. After he pulled into the garage, he finally turned to Steve. “Go to the bedroom and wait for me,” he said, voice low and dangerous. “Leave on your clothes.”

Steve shivered in anticipation and got out of the car, hurrying into the house and to the bedroom. He could hear Eddie follow him into the house, but he stopped in the kitchen. Steve left all of his clothes on, including the heels, and knelt at the foot of the bed, waiting for Eddie.

Eddie left him like that for at least five minutes, Steve’s knees starting to hurt, before he heard his footsteps approaching the bedroom. Eddie was still fully dressed as well, boots and all, which Steve found insanely arousing.

Eddie walked toward Steve, stopping with his crotch directly in front of Steve’s face. He reached toward Steve’s mouth, shoving two fingers inside. “Who does this mouth belong to?” Eddie asked. When Steve tried to answer around Eddie’s fingers he shoved them deeper, making Steve gag.

“I didn’t catch that,” Eddie said, fucking his fingers in and out of Steve’s mouth, making it impossible for him to talk. Finally he took them out.

Steve gasped and said, “You, Sir, my mouth belongs to you!” Eddie slapped him across the face, hard.

“Why do I feel like you don’t really believe that? I saw you letting that man put his hands all over you. Would you have let him put his cock in your mouth, too?” Eddie held Steve by his chin, pinching his cheeks to open Steve’s mouth.

“No, Sir, I wouldn’t,” Steve pleaded.

Eddie leaned forward, and Steve thought he might be about to get a kiss, which was unexpected, but then Eddie spat directly into Steve’s mouth as he continued to hold it open. Steve moaned, hips bucking wildly, as Eddie hastily undid his own belt and pulled his cock out of his pants, shoving it into Steve’s open mouth, grabbing a handful of Steve’s hair to pull his face in until his nose was buried in Eddie’s pubes.

Eddie set a fast rhythm with his thrusts and Steve had to work hard at swallowing to keep himself from gagging. He wasn’t entirely successful, gagging on several of Eddie’s thrusts, but Eddie kept going, fucking deep into his throat. Steve could feel drool leaking out of his mouth, down his cheeks and onto his neck, and tears dripping down his cheeks. There was precum already leaking into his panties, his body reacting with arousal to being used by Eddie. He felt his mind start to drift, shifting slowly into subspace.

Eddie pulled him off for a moment, yanking at Steve’s hair until Steve yelped. “Oh, does that hurt, baby?” Eddie asked with mock sympathy.

Steve nodded, tears falling down his face, and Eddie pulled harder. Steve thought he was going to come just from this, and Eddie must have seen it on his face because he picked up his foot and pressed it down hard on Steve’s cock.

“Fuck!” Steve yelled, trying to squirm out from under Eddie and failing miserably, pinned between his foot on his cock and his hand fisted in his hair. Eddie let go with his hand at the same time he lifted his foot up, and Steve crumpled to the floor. Eddie nudged him with a booted foot.

“Get up,” Eddie demanded, and Steve scrambled to get up. “On the bed, hands and knees.”

Steve went, briefly catching sight of himself in the mirror. His eyes had that glassy look they got when he was in subspace, his hair was a mess, and his face was bright red, lipstick smudged everywhere and mascara running down his cheeks. Eddie pulled Steve’s shorts and fishnets down, exposing a very small pair of red lace panties.

Eddie ran his hands over Steve’s ass cheeks, barely covered at all by the lace. Steve was lulled into a false sense of security by the gentle stroking, only to be pulled directly back out by a sharp smack on his right ass cheek.

“Ow!” he yelled as Eddie pulled his hand back and slapped the left cheek, just as hard.

“If you didn’t want this, you shouldn’t have let that guy touch you,” Eddie growled into his ear. He pulled the panties to the side, exposing Steve’s asshole and the base of the plug nestled there. Eddie ran his finger over the plug.

“What about this hole? Who owns this hole?” Eddie asked, pulling out the plug.

“You do, Sir,” Steve said, arching his back to give Eddie the best view possible. He heard Eddie open a bottle of lube and slick up his cock, but Steve didn't need any prep after having the plug holding him open all night. Eddie shoved into Steve without any fanfare and set a brutal pace. His pants were still almost fully on, and the zipper and belt dug against Steve’s ass with every thrust, giving him a delightful zing of pain.

Eddie reached one hand up to grab a handful of Steve’s hair, the other keeping a firm grip on Steve’s hips, hard enough to leave bruises. He used the hand in his hair to pull Steve back onto his cock over and over. It hurt so bad it was bringing tears to Steve’s eyes again, at the same time as it was bringing him close to coming.

Eddie wasn’t even hitting his prostate at this angle, which was no doubt deliberate, thrusting into Steve with so much force he thought he might break.

“You're mine, my slut. No one else gets to have this,” Eddie said, panting between thrusts.

“Yours, I’m yours,” Steve agreed, feeling his orgasm creeping up on him. Eddie pulled his hair harder, thrusting even deeper, and Steve was gone, coming without touching himself, screaming Eddie’s name. Eddie shoved Steve's face into the bed and fucked him through his orgasm, past the point of oversensitivity. Steve started to whine, trying to squirm away from Eddie, but Eddie held him tight by his hips. Finally, just when Steve thought he wasn't going to be able to take anymore, Eddie pulled out. He flipped Steve over and pulled up his shirt, coming all over Steve’s lace-covered cock, belly, and chest.

He collapsed on top of Steve for a moment, breathing heavily. “Holy shit. Fuck. Give me a second,” Eddie said, catching his breath. Steve was happily floating, and didn’t mind the weight at all. After a few moments Eddie pushed himself up a little, enough that he could kiss Steve. He kissed him slow and sweet, moving from his mouth to his neck, murmuring nonsense to Steve about what a good boy he was between kisses, stroking his hands through his hair.

Eddie eventually pushed himself up and off of Steve. Steve grabbed at him as he tried to walk away, and Eddie laughed. “Just gimme a sec, baby, I need to get something to clean you up.” He went into the en suite, shedding his clothes on the way, pausing only to bend and take off his boots. He was naked by the time he got back to the bed with a wet washcloth.

He moved Steve around, helping him take off his shirt and shimmy out of the panties, then wiped all of the cum he could find off of his body. Finally, he got into bed, pulling the covers up so Steve could get in beside him. Steve tangled all of his limbs with Eddie’s, resting his entire body on top of him.

Eddie stroked his hands up and down Steve’s sides and pressed a soft kiss to his hair. “How was that, baby? Was it what you wanted?” he asked.

“It was perfect,” Steve replied. “Everything I wanted and more. You take such good care of me.”

Eddie squeezed him.

“Did you enjoy it?” Steve asked. “Not too much?” When they’d first started exploring kink, they had both thought that as the submissive and the masochist Steve was the one more at risk of having his boundaries crossed, but they’d realized quickly that wasn’t true.

“Not too much,” Eddie confirmed, kissing him again. “I loved it.”

Steve looked up at him and smiled. “Oh, good. Next time maybe you can fuck me in the club bathroom.”

Eddie’s eyes went wide and he made a strangled sound. “You're an insatiable kink demon.”

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie fanfiction #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #my fics

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blossom-hwa · 1 day

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a very fine line, indeed [8] | c.bg

pairing: Beomgyu x fem!reader genre: fluff, angst, enemies to lovers, regency era!au, nobility!au warnings: mentions of assault, abuse, cursing, period typical misogyny word count: 11.2k notes: — updates every M/W/F at 8pm EST until the series finishes — assault/abuse scenes are not graphic, but please heed the warnings and let me know if any of it is romanticized or just written in poor taste--I assure you I did not mean it, and I will fix anything needed. — inspiration taken from an amalgamation of different bridgerton stories - let me know what easter eggs you find! — story takes place in the same universe as my duke!yeonjun and earl!taehyun fics - check out the link to the series below for some more easter eggs :) In a society where it only takes a year for a young woman in search of a husband to be considered out of season, it is no wonder that by your third year out, you are desperate to marry. Known as one of the beauties of the ton, such a task should not be difficult for you—but with an absent father, no dowry, and a reputation centered around your inability to keep your mouth shut around one certain Beomgyu Choi, your prospects are more limited than you’d like. While you cannot recover your family or your wealth, however, the one thing you can try to control is your reputation. So when the third season rolls around, you resolve to keep your distance from Beomgyu Choi, your childhood enemy, and the man you hate most in the world. Enter Beomgyu Choi, second son of the Kensington Viscountcy, one of the most eligible bachelors in the ton. His older brother, cousin, and good friend have all recently married, leaving the mamas to salivate at his doorstep for the chance of marrying one of their daughters to him. When Beomgyu walks in on a particularly traumatizing moment between you and one of the most unsavory men in the ton and learns of your desperation to marry, despite your history of enmity, he proposes you a devious deal—to pretend to court you. It seems like a winning situation for both of you—more gentlemen will take notice of you, enhancing your prospects, and he will have the ton’s mamas off his back—and so, despite your misgivings, you agree. With you hell bent on marriage and Beomgyu completely indifferent to the concept, even independent of your hatred for each other, it seems unlikely that any sort of true affection will bloom. But as you begrudgingly put aside your differences to spend more and more time in one another’s company, and as you grow to know each other beyond your ill-conceived preconceptions from childhood, you begin to realize that perhaps you two have more in common than you had once thought. And as your faked acquaintanceship becomes more truth than fiction, a friendship beginning to bloom most unexpectedly— Perhaps you no longer need to convince the ton of the veracity of your courtship, because anyone with eyes can see that it is true. Part 7 >> Part 8

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It’s been a week since you took unwilling part in the biggest scandal to overtake the ton this entire season, and you’re feeling more and more certain with each passing day that your reputation will never recover.

You thought the same thing at the beginning of the season, just a few months ago. At the time, you thought it couldn’t get any worse. Funny how time ends up proving you wrong.

Of course, you have no idea how the ton is receiving any of the gossip. You know the facts, as does everyone else who was in the room when it all happened, but that doesn’t matter. Someone will undoubtedly distort them for the sake of a good story. Your stepmother has been refusing all calls on your behalf, though, so you have no clue what the ton is saying. It’s not like she would tell you, anyway. The morning after the Jung ball she slapped you across the face so hard you saw stars, and you had to listen to her scream at you for an hour after that. When you tried to ask her what people were saying about you a few days ago, she gave you another mark to match the first one.

The bruises still hurt to the touch.

Maybe it’s just as well. You’re not sure you want to know what anyone is saying. The gossip about you and Beomgyu had hardly abated before the Jung ball, and with all the speculation then about you being sort of shameless whore able to seduce men into offering you marriage proposals, you can only imagine what they’re saying about you now. They probably think you seduced Lord Cho, too.

They probably think you deserved whatever he intended to do to you.

Which isn’t true. You never asked for any sort of physical relationship with him, never even considered it. You said no when he offered it—if the word offered could even describe the situation. Stupid as it is, you really did believe he wanted to marry you, and his words cut you deep when you learned of his true intentions. But the cynical part of you can’t help but feel like you got what was coming to you. You should have known better—known that no one would truly ever want to marry you, because you have nothing to offer. Maybe it’s true that you aren’t fit for anything more than a mistress.

If you didn’t have so much damn pride, maybe you’d have been able to accept that by now.

You can forget any delusions of being married, now. If you weren’t already ruined by Beomgyu leaving you after the waltz, surely this incident has marked you as a fallen woman—or at least as close to it as you can get without having actually been deflowered. Never mind that you never asked for it. Never mind that you had to beat him off with a damn candlestick. No one wants a woman who’s been sullied by another man’s touch, no matter how unwarranted.

Maybe it’s really time for you to start making plans to run away.

Even as the thought crosses your mind, though, you have to stifle a snort. Pausing in the middle of scrubbing out a large pot, you close your eyes for just a moment, hoping to clear out all of your remaining stupid thoughts. Run away, yes? With what money? You have nothing. This family has nothing. There’s nothing useful you can even steal from the house, and your father isn’t coming back with any money. This, you know now.

You can still hear the terrible silence that accompanied the opening of that letter. Your stepmother’s simmering rage as her eyes scanned every carefully penned line that told of the passing of your father, and the loss of any remnants of the family fortune at the hands of his gambling addiction. You had no idea he had such an addiction. The few times you saw him over the past decade, he always seemed so stoic, so upright. You never thought he could have been hiding something so terrible behind that façade.

But he was. And now he is dead, and he has passed nothing onto you except a mountain of terrible fortune.

There’s really no end to it. You sigh, returning to the pot still half covered in suds in the sink. Maybe this is for the better. You’ll grow into a spinster, hide yourself from society with your position as a servant in this household, and fade away from public attention. In a few years, people will forget about everything. Maybe. Hopefully. And then you’ll have some peace of mind.

…There’s no real hope of that, though. You’ll never have peace as long as you live with your stepmother. Maybe that’s your eternal punishment for all the stupid choices you made this season—having to live with her until she dies, or you do.

At least she’s gone now. She left a while ago to make some morning calls, you think. You tried to ask who she was going to meet and she just snapped that she was trying to clean up the mess you had made of yourself and your family this season.

Very useful information, that was. You didn’t press though. You didn’t want to add on to the collection of bruises already beginning to bloom across your cheek.

She’s gone now, though, and you haven’t heard her return, so you have some time to breathe without her sneering down her nose at you every minute of the day. The silence is nice even if you know it’ll be short lived.

Something sounds in the hall as you’re scrubbing the last pot clean. You stiffen, thinking it might be your stepmother, but it still feels like it hasn’t been long since she left—surely she wouldn’t be back so soon? You look over at Soyoung, who’s helping you scrub away. Her raised eyebrow indicates she’s as confused as you are.

Footsteps sound down the hallway, and then you hear Brighton speaking. Your confusion increases by the second—surely no one has any reason to call, not when your stepmother has been chasing away callers almost every day. You wonder if Brighton will have them leave too, whoever they are, but he likely won’t. Without your stepmother here, he would probably defer to you, unless she left him with explicit instructions not to. Though he might disobey them anyway. The staff here don’t take very kindly to your stepmother.

The thought makes you smile, but that smile quickly begins to drop as Brighton’s characteristic light footsteps sound closer and closer to the kitchen. You finish rinsing off the last pot just as he enters the kitchen, standing primly in the doorway.

“Miss L/N.”

You turn around, wiping your hands on your apron. “Yes, Brighton?”

A hint of distaste edges his words. “Mr. Choi has come to call.”

Despite the situation, you almost smile. You can’t say you don’t appreciate the staff’s quiet support at your situation. No doubt they’ve heard all manner of gossip from the other servants around town, but you told Soyoung what truly happened so your staff has been very kind to you since everything started going downhill. Brighton in particular has taken to speaking the Choi name with a subtle, almost undetectable annoyance that only butlers can emulate, and you won’t deny that it makes you feel a little better, sometimes. Not because you hate Beomgyu—you wish you could hate him, it would make everything so much easier—but because it’s nice to know that someone has your back.

The almost smile slips off your face almost as easily as it came, though. Because you really don’t know if you want to see him. He was right about Lord Cho, right from the start—and all you and everyone else did was just brush his concern off as jealousy. You don’t want to face him. You don’t want to know what he has to say. And truth be told, you’re still not entirely sure you forgive him for what he did at the Haynesworth ball. He tried to explain when he called the last time. You didn’t let him. You’re still not sure if you want to let him. Anger is the only shield you have now against your pain and you’re not ready to give up its embrace so soon, even if its warmth is more suffocating than nourishing.

There is another warmth that is nourishing, though. A warmth you’ve only ever felt with those you loved. Delia, Henry, Soyoung…

And Beomgyu, too.

All of the residual anger drains out of your body, leaving you cold and a little empty. You look down at yourself, at your dirty servant’s garb splashed with water and soap, at your tender hands still holding a sponge covered in suds. You should hear him out, let him speak, but you’re just…so tired. You want this all to be over. And anyway, even if you knew you wanted to speak with him, you don’t know when your stepmother will return from her own morning calls—calls meant to repair your reputation, whatever the hell that means. She might come back in the middle of a conversation and you really don’t want to know what would happen then.

That’s just an excuse, though. You know that just the thought of your stepmother wouldn’t be able to stop you from doing anything you really wanted to. The question is, then, do you really want to see Beomgyu? Do you really?

“For what it is worth,” Brighton says, interrupting your thoughts, “he has tried to call every morning since the Jung ball, Miss L/N.” He twists his hands together in an uncharacteristic show of uncertainty. “Your stepmother turned him away each time, but…perhaps he truly does have something to say.”

Every morning since the Jung ball. You blink. That’s…dedication. It reminds you an awful lot of how he tried to see you almost every day for a week after the Haynesworth ball, which in turn reminds you of that terrible last conversation you shared with him. He had wanted to explain himself. You hadn’t let him. Instead, you’d told him never to come back and he had heeded your words then, but now he’s returned.

Part of you still hurts at what he did to you—or rather, what he didn’t do. Even now you can still call up some of that anger and you try to wrap it around you like a cloak, but it isn’t doesn’t work anymore. There isn’t enough anger left to shield you, which just leaves you open. Raw. Vulnerable to your emotions.

The emotions telling you to listen to him this time, instead of just sending him away.

You stare at your hands. You know that Beomgyu wouldn’t hold it against you if you told him to leave. He wouldn’t argue. He would give you space. And you really, really hate that. If he wasn’t so honorable, it would be so much easier to hate him. You would never have fallen in love with him in the first place.

Life would be so much easier, then.

But he is honorable. You may still be angry at what he did at the Haynesworth ball, but you also have the grudging grace (or maybe the idiocy) to understand that one mistake does not dictate a person’s entire character. You remember Beomgyu holding you as you shook so badly in his arms just moments after Lord Cho had tried to lay his hands on you, and you can’t help but recall how safe you felt in his hold. Not completely so—Lord Cho was right there, obviously you wouldn’t feel completely fine—but Beomgyu lent a steadiness to the moment that you needed, desperately. You trusted him without thinking. Without even feeling.

Maybe that says something. Maybe that says a lot of things.

You swallow hard. He’s already in your house. He’s come by every day, even though he’s been turned away each time—not by your choice, but by your stepmother’s. This might be the only chance you get to hear him out.

You’d be a fool not to take it.

“Do you know when my stepmother will be back?” you ask quietly.

“She left not long ago,” Brighton replies. “I do not know for certain, but I would estimate you have at least two hours before she returns.”

You bite the inside of your cheek. Two hours is likely enough time to talk. Sabine is taking care of the children in the nursery, which leaves Soyoung or Brighton to chaperone. You don’t have time to change or to cover up the marks on your cheek, but you don’t really want to. Part of you wants to approach Beomgyu with this part of yourself on display. To let him see you as you are.

You stand up and take a deep breath. “Then bring him in.”

. . . . .

When your butler bids him to come inside, Beomgyu has to bite his tongue to stifle his shock. It’s been a week since the Jung ball and though he’s called every morning since then, the response has always been the same—that you aren’t taking visitors, and won’t be for the near future. The setup feels eerily familiar to when he tried to see you after the Haynesworth ball, though he supposes that is just what comes with scandal. The ton’s memory is like that of a goldfish. Once something else happens, they move on quickly.

In theory, at least. In practice, the memories stick around for a bit longer than gossip suggests.

Today, though, the butler—Brighton, he thinks—allows him inside. Before shutting the door, Beomgyu sees him cast a furtive glance towards the street, which leads Beomgyu to believe he might not actually be allowed to be here. Still, he appreciates being let in so he doesn’t comment as the butler leads him through the short hallway and into the drawing room. He then disappears to find you.

It seems to take forever for the butler to return, or at least for Beomgyu to hear any sounds indicating you might actually see him. He half expects to be told to leave and honestly, he wouldn’t blame you for it. He can’t really think of a reason why you would want to see him in the first place, but he just wants to make sure you are all right. Or as all right you can be after what happened.

God, he really wishes he had done Lord Cho’s face in. The man would have deserved it—just one quick punch to break his nose. But then Beomgyu wouldn’t have been there to catch you when the shock set in and you nearly fell, your entire body trembling as you sank into his arms. Anyway, you already hit Lord Cho over the head with that silver candlestick, and that gave Beomgyu more than enough satisfaction to witness.

Footsteps sound down the hall—more than one pair, it seems. Beomgyu straightens where he stands and his heart begins to race as you step into the room.

He almost gasps but bites his tongue just in time. In all the times he’s seen you, you’ve never not been dressed for society—fine gowns, light jewelry, pretty smiles. Now, though, Beomgyu almost doesn’t recognize you.

Dressed in a plain servant’s garb, apron still damp and slightly stained, you stare back at him, expressionless. Your hands are bare, cracked and raw, and a bruise swells dark on your cheek. Anger twists in Beomgyu’s stomach when he realizes it looks very much like the mark left if someone had hit you. There’s no doubt it was your stepmother.

You seem to track his gaze, unsurprised at whatever you find in his expression. Something hard glints in your eyes and Beomgyu recognizes it as a test. You could have made him wait for you to change, to get ready for a typical call, but you didn’t. You chose to show yourself like this, rags and calluses and all, for a reason.

Well, if this is a test, then he will do all he can to pass it. Beomgyu holds himself tall and bows just as he always has even though the bruise on your cheek makes him want to throttle something. “Miss L/N,” he says in greeting.

You look back at him steadily for a moment. Then suddenly your shoulders slump, as though you can’t hold yourself up anymore. “Mr. Choi,” you say wearily. “Why are you here?”

Your refusal to call him by his given name hurts more than it should, but Beomgyu forces the pain to pass. It’s no less than he deserves. “I wanted to see if you were all right,” he replies quietly.

As the words come out of his mouth, he realizes how stupid they are. Obviously you aren’t fine. After what happened, no one in your situation would have been fine. The evidence is staring him right in the face—even if it weren’t for the bruise, the weariness on your face speaks volumes.

“Well, you have seen me.” The corners of your lips lift slightly, though there is no mirth in the movement. “If that is all, I will be going now.” You turn around as though to leave.

Beomgyu moves before he even realizes it. You flinch when he catches your wrist, but to his surprise, you don’t pull away. Not immediately. “Y/N,” he says, and you seem to shudder in his hold like when he held you that night. “Please.”

You remain silent for a moment. “Please, what, Mr. Choi?” you ask harshly. “You got what you wanted. You saw me. What else could you need?” You laugh. The sound scratches at Beomgyu’s ears. “Do you want to gloat? Over the fact that you were right about Lord Cho, and I wasn’t? Because that’s low, low even for you—”

Beomgyu takes a small step forward and you cut yourself off. He lets your words pass over him—you’re angry. Maybe even frightened. You’ve spat insults at him before that you actually meant, so Beomgyu knows the difference between that and you simply lashing out from your pain. “I didn’t come to gloat,” he says quietly.

Your expression crumples. “Then why are you here?”

“I wanted to apologize.” His next words come unbidden. “And I wanted to ask if you would marry me.”

A long pause follows his unplanned declaration. Beomgyu doesn’t panic, though. Because even though he hadn’t intended to give his proposal right then and there, he still meant the words. They just came out a little early.

“Why?” you finally ask.

Beomgyu’s heart nearly breaks at your shattered expression, the obvious exhaustion written all over your face. You didn’t deserve this—none of it. If only he hadn’t been such an idiot, if only he hadn’t run away instead of facing his feelings earlier… “Because I love you,” he says, voice trembling. “And if you will allow me, I should like to explain.”

He watches you swallow, throat bobbing as you look down at where his hand still clasps your wrist. You keep looking there for a very long time. “Then explain,” you finally allow, but you don’t look back up at him.

Beomgyu tries to hide how much that hurts him. It isn’t as though he has a right to feel hurt, anyway. “I am…incredibly sorry for what I did. Or what I didn’t do, I suppose.” He swallows. “I am well aware that no verbal apology of mine could ever make up for leaving you at the Haynesworth ball and I do not intend to make excuses.”

Your eyes finally shift up to his. There’s nothing in your gaze, nothing to give any indication that what he’s saying is right, but Beomgyu has been a coward long enough and he won’t continue that streak now. “I should not have asked you to waltz.”

Your gaze shutters immediately and you go to pull away. Beomgyu almost panics and tugs your wrist back. “I did not mean it that way,” he says quickly. “I only meant…I was not proper. I should have asked if you had permission first. I should have asked if you were fine with it. I should have remembered the social repercussions of asking you to share such a dance.”

You jerk your wrist out of his hand, but you don’t leave. “Then why didn’t you?” you ask sharply.

Beomgyu winces. There’s really no way to make “Lord Cho smirked at me which made me extremely upset” sound any better than that, but he has to try. “I was already upset that Lord Cho had been keeping your attentions the entire evening,” he says. Embarrassment creeps its way up his neck. “I was jealous. And at some point, when I was about to just leave the whole affair all together, he…gave me a look, that made me believe he was doing this on purpose. That he had been keeping you engaged the entire evening to avoid me.” The words, once they leave his lips, sound entirely self-serving and rather egotistic. But he swore to himself he would honest and, well, this is what he felt. “I probably sound rather self-centered,” he admits. “But it seemed that way to me.”

You don’t say anything. You hardly react, even. Beomgyu supposes this is at least better than if you were to scoff at him immediately. “I wanted to dance with you,” he says quietly. “I had waited several hours that night just for the hope of speaking to you. I did not realize it was a waltz before we took to the ballroom floor, but even then, at first, I truly did not care. In fact, I was enjoying it. You…you were so beautiful. You always have been.” He swallows. “But there was a moment where we met eyes and I…it hit me then. That I was in love with you.”

You’ve gone as still as a statue. Only your eyes move, warily tracking his every movement.

“I was scared. Terrified.” Beomgyu clenches his hands at his sides and feels his nails biting sharply into his palms. “I suppose I had some inkling of it before, but I refused to think of it. I was too scared to—I had hated you for so long and we’d only been civil for a few months. I thought, surely, it could not be so. I could not love you in such a short time. But as we were dancing, and as I held you so…” Against his will, his eyes drift to your lips. “I remembered our kiss,” he says quietly. “And I knew, then, that I loved you.”

This time, you do scoff. “You have a funny way of showing it,” you say, bitterness coating every word.

Beomgyu flinches, but it isn’t as if your words aren’t deserved. “I was a coward,” he admits. “An incredible coward. I realized it then and I couldn’t face it. I couldn’t think with everyone around us and I was so confused and terrified by the prospect of loving you that I just…ran.” He drops his head, finally.

“You were so scared of loving me.” You snort. “Me. Yes. Because I’m just another one of the dowry-less crowd, full of scandal and Lady Whistledown mentions. Who in their right mind would ever fall in love with me?”

“It wasn’t because of that!” Beomgyu looks up at you, stricken. “Y/N—Miss L/N—do you have any idea how impressive you are?”

For the first time today, you look shocked into speechlessness. Beomgyu’s own face is starting to redden but he forges on. “You—I was terrified of how quickly I had fallen in love with you,” he gets out. “For weeks after we kissed, I couldn’t stop dreaming of it. I wanted to kiss you again. So badly. And it was—terrible. I wanted to be around you and only you. I was jealous of Lord Cho and anyone who seemed to be interested in asking for your hand. But I just could not believe I was in love with you, because you are…well, you.” He gestures vaguely. “Sweet, kind, intelligent, witty…”

God, the more he talks, the stupider he feels for not having realized his feelings sooner.

“You are you, Miss L/N,” Beomgyu says. “Incredibly lovely and impressive, extraordinarily strong and brave.” A wave of shame washes over him at the truth of his words. You apologized first. You asked to be friends first. Every step of your relationship beyond the first fake deal was initiated by you, and the moment he realized his feelings, all he did was run. “I was terrified of how deeply I had fallen for you,” he says quietly. “Terrified of how much I felt for you in such a short time. It was cowardly of me to run. I should have stayed with you, and I will forever regret that. In the moment, though…it was too much for me to process all at once” He takes a deep breath. “I don’t expect you to forgive me for it. But that is my explanation, in the end. As idiotic as it sounds.”

You look away for a moment. Your cheek turns to him, and again Beomgyu sees the bruise your stepmother left on your skin. The momentary anger bolsters him enough to meet your gaze when you turn back to him. “I trusted you, you know.” More than your words, the exhaustion in your voice strikes Beomgyu to the core. “I trusted you to know the dance, and what it would mean to the ton. What it would mean to me.” You laugh slightly, but there is no humor in the sound. “I thought you might propose to me then.”

Beomgyu bows his head. “I am incredibly sorry,” he says quietly. “Nothing can excuse what I did.”

“It can’t,” you agree. “But it doesn’t matter anymore. It has already happened, and anyway, it’s not the worst thing a man has done to me this season.”

He stares at you. Did you just joke about Lord Cho’s assault?

“Don’t look at me like that,” you snap, hunching into yourself. “It’s true.”

Beomgyu swallows. “I…suppose it is,” he mumbles.

For a long moment, you two remain silent. “Nothing may excuse what you did,” you finally say, “but at least I can understand it.” And as Beomgyu is reeling from your response, trying to make sense of it, you step back. “I accept your apology,” you say. “And I appreciate it. But I think it is best that you go now, Mr. Choi.” You start to walk away. “Brighton will see you out.”

Beomgyu gapes, even as the butler comes back into the room. You said you understood. Understood feeling so strongly that it terrified you, understood the urge to run away that he gave in to—

Brighton steps toward him but Beomgyu ignores him, catching your wrist again. “Y/N!”

You stop, but you don’t look back. “What?”

Beomgyu senses that he only has one chance for this. Just one chance to say the right thing, or you’ll walk away and leave him forever. “What did you mean,” he asks, voice ragged, “when you said you understood?”

You turn to him, derision scrawled across your face. “You are a true idiot,” you snap, “if you believe you were the only one who dreamed of the kiss for days afterward.” Then you turn again and try to walk away, but Beomgyu keeps his grip on your wrist. “What is it now?” you snarl, whirling back around.

Everything is hitting him too hard, too fast, but this time, instead of running, Beomgyu stays put. You dreamed of the kiss. You thought of it for days on end just as he did, your eyes drifting to his lips the way his drifted to yours. Suddenly Beomgyu remembers moments when he saw your gaze fixated on his mouth for mere fractions of a second before you returned to the conversation, moments when you smiled at him and there was a shyness in your expression that he had never seen before…

He remembers the waltz and how you settled so comfortably into his hold, eyes sparkling, lips parted as he lowered you into the crook of his arm. You were so warm. So trusting. So full of a joy and hope that made his heart race.

“I trusted you to know the dance, and what it would mean to the ton. What it would mean to me.”

What it would mean to me.

Beomgyu is an idiot. An absolute idiot. “Miss L/N,” he says slowly, “do you love me?”

Your eyes shutter. “It doesn’t matter.”

He holds your gaze. “Yes, it does.”

“No, it doesn’t,” you grit out. You try to tug yourself away but he won’t let go. “Let go of me!”

He releases you immediately, memories of your cries a week ago forcing his hand open as soon as the words leave your mouth. But he doesn’t let you run away. “Answer my question,” he says.

“It doesn’t matter,” you hiss. Beomgyu hears panic rising in your voice, some sort of fear pushing anger into your tone that he knows isn’t real. “What about that doesn’t make sense to you?”

“It does matter,” he says, cutting through your panic. “Because I asked you a question before that you still haven’t answered.”

You fall silent.

“I asked you to marry me,” he says quietly, each word like a gunshot in the silence. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Brighton slip out of the room again.

You say nothing. You don’t even look at him. It should discourage Beomgyu, but strangely, in the face of your silence, he feels more hopeful. “So I ask you again, Miss L/N,” he murmurs, stepping closer, “do you love me?”

“Why do you need to know?” you ask, voice less sharp, more pleading. “It doesn’t matter, Beomgyu!”

“If you can say no, then I’ll leave.” He puts his hands up in surrender, but privately he feels even more hope with the sound of his name from your lips. “I swear it. But you must answer me.” His voice lowers, almost to a whisper. “Do you love me?”

Your silence is more telling than anything you said before.

Beomgyu takes a leap of faith. “If you do…” He swallows. “Then marry me, Y/N.”

You stay quiet for a long time. A clock ticks nearby, slowly marking every second that passes. Beomgyu feels as wound up as a spring, his muscles so tense it almost hurts, but he doesn’t move. He won’t move. Not until you speak.

And eventually, you do.

“My father is dead.”

Beomgyu’s eyes widen. Your lips curve a little, but the movement holds no humor. “We received the letter a few days ago.”

“…I am incredibly sorry.”

“I’m not.” Your words are callous but you shrug like they mean nothing—and perhaps, after all these years, they don’t. “I hardly knew him and he hardly knew any of us. All these years, we thought he was trying to make money overseas, but he had actually gambled it all away.” You shrug again. “He died over a year ago. It took that long for anyone to try and track us down. The country home will need to be sold to pay off his debts. This house is all we really have left and we might be on the verge of losing that too, so I don’t care for him at all.”

Beomgyu stays silent against the rolling tide of your fury. He has no right to judge the situation, and nothing he could say would soothe your anger anyway. He had two loving parents, a rarity in this ton—he can hardly imagine how you feel now, both biological parents dead, one having betrayed you without your knowing for years on end.

“I didn’t tell you this for pity.” You take a deep breath, and some of the anger dissipates, replaced by your previous weariness. “But, Beomgyu…you won’t gain anything from marrying me. Nothing at all. I’m just another girl with nothing to my name except a heap of scandal. I don’t have a title. I don’t have money. I do chores in the household where I am supposed to be a lady and while I don’t care, if this were to spread to the rest of the ton, you would be ruined, too.” Beomgyu follows your gaze down to your bare hands, your palms rough and weathered, your fingertips raw and pricked. “There’s nothing for you to gain from this,” you say quietly. “Nothing at all.”

Beomgyu reaches out. When you don’t flinch away, he takes your hand. He rubs his thumb over the skin of your palm, skimming over the lines, the cracks, the scars. “I notice,” he says slowly, “that you have still not said no.”

You scoff. “Retract your proposal, and I won’t have to.”

“What if I don’t retract it?” he challenges. “Will you say no, then?”

“You’re an idiot not to!” you snap. You try to pull your hand away but this time Beomgyu doesn’t let go. You glare at him. “Did you not hear a single thing I just said? I can’t bring you anything but burden!”

“I love you.”

With those three words, the fight drains out of you almost immediately. Your head slumps over your joined hands and when you finally look back at him, tears sparkle, unshed, in your eyes. “I love you,” Beomgyu says again and even though it feels like his heart is about to leap out of his chest, the words still feel so right, leaving his lips. “I love you, and I want to be with you. To be with you could never be a burden to me because I love you and everything that comes with you.” You open your mouth to say something but he barrels on. “I don’t care if you have no dowry. I’ve already told you it’s an outdated notion and I care nothing for it, and besides, my family has more than enough money. I don’t need more.” He takes a breath. “I don’t care that your hands will never be smooth. Your scars carry the weight of the care you have for those you love, and they have no bearing on the goodness of your heart. And as for your scandals…” Beomgyu smiles a little, surprised to find some genuine humor in what he is about to say. “I will not have you bear all the burden when the fault is also mine. I am at least half as responsible for all of those scandals as you are.”

You stay quiet. Beomgyu gives up tracing your palm, instead clasping both of his hands over yours. “I love you, Y/N,” he says softly. “None of these things change that, and they never will.”

“You’re an idiot,” you say. Your voice is surprisingly steady, but the last syllable trembles just as the first tear slips out of your eye. “You’re an incredible idiot, Beomgyu. You know all of this—you know what sort of new scandal it would create if we married—”

“What does it say about you, then, that you have still not given me a reply?”

“I’m also an idiot!” you yell. “A bloody fucking stupid idiot who loves you against all of her better judgement. I loved you when you waltzed with me, I loved you when you left me, I loved you when you gave me those gloves—even though I didn’t even it know it then. I thought about you kissing me for days on end and I asked you to be my friend just so you wouldn’t stop speaking to me, looking at me, because I couldn’t stand the thought of seeing you everywhere and not being able to talk to you. I loved you and I still love you because I’m an idiot. A bloody, stupid idiot—” You cut yourself off as tears begin to spill down your face. You harshly wipe them off. “I don’t want to say no because I love you, you stupid fool. Despite everything I still love you and I always will, and I need you to realize that this is a terrible idea because—because this will be a mistake, it will be a huge mistake for you if you marry me, but I—I don’t know if I can say no.”

Beomgyu lets go of your hand. You flinch, no doubt expecting him to step away, but he instead comes closer. This is hugely improper but Beomgyu doesn’t care as he lifts his hand to your cheek to brush away the tears as they come. “Then say yes,” he whispers.

You shake your head wildly. “This is a mistake, Beomgyu. You’re making a huge mistake.”

“You have never been a mistake,” he says quietly. “Not once. Not ever. It was only my mistakes that got us to this point. If I hadn’t been so terrified and unable to cope with my own feelings…” He swallows around the shame that rises bitterly on his tongue. “I am the one who left you at the ball. That was my mistake. But if you can still trust me, Y/N, trust me when I say that loving you was never a mistake for me.”

“I can’t do anything good for you,” you say miserably. “Society will talk about this forever.”

“They’ll talk about it forever anyway,” Beomgyu points out. “And I don’t know about you, but I’m somewhat past caring about what they think of you and me. They’ll never get the facts right, and I can’t control that, but…I know that I love you.” His thumb sweeps another tear from your cheek. “And if you love me too…”

“I do.” Your voice is hardly a whisper but the two words embed themselves in Beomgyu’s heart, warmth slowly filling his blood. “I do love you.”

“Then that’s all that matters.” Beomgyu gently presses his forehead to yours. “I don’t care what the ton will say. I want you to be with me, forever. You say you can do no good for me but just having you near me…Y/N, I have never felt this way for another in my life.” He slides an arm around your waist, pulling you closer gently, gently. “You are the best thing that has happened to me. I should be honored to have you with me wherever I go. I don’t care what you can and can’t do for me. Being around you, being with you…that is all I want. All I need.”

You take a shuddering breath. “Beomgyu…”

“I’ll take you everywhere, Y/N. We’ll travel far away, go wherever and see whatever you want. We don’t need to stay here. We can deal with the ton as much or as little as you want to.” You open your mouth to speak, but he cuts you off. “Don’t worry about your servants or your family. I will provide a dowry for Delia. I will buy the house for your brother. Your servants can travel with us or stay in the home, and I will double their wages.” He takes a deep breath. “So say yes, Y/N.”

You swallow hard.

“Say yes,” he whispers again. “Please.”

You close your eyes. Tears wet your eyelashes, and Beomgyu fights the urge to brush them away, for that would break the two of you apart. You open your eyes and they’re red from crying but in this moment, Beomgyu knows he could never tire of this. Of having you close, of seeing you close, of being able to love you like this—freely, without regrets.

“Yes.” The word ghosts over his lips, your breath soft like the wind against his skin. “Yes, Beomgyu.” You swallow hard, and though another tear rolls down your face, Beomgyu dares to believe it isn’t from sadness—that there could be some happiness joining the myriad of emotions on your face. “I will marry you.”

. . . . .

The next morning dawns uneventfully, which almost tricks you into thinking the previous day was just a dream. There’s no proof that anything happened beyond your memories, and even then, the idea that Beomgyu proposed to you seems almost too fantastical to be true.

But it did happen. You can still feel Beomgyu’s hands encasing yours, his thumb smoothing over the cracks and lines on your palm like his touch could take away the pain. You can feel his forehead pressed to yours, his arm around your waist, pulling you to him. You can feel him, his presence—feel the memories of him wrapped around you like a shield against the world.

You have him, and you have his promise—the promise that he would return the next day, today, with a betrothal ring. The promise that he would marry you and take you far from this place. The promise that he would love you forever.

“I will leave now, before your stepmother returns,” he had said, holding your hand. “But tomorrow I will come. I don’t care if your stepmother refuses callers—I will come. And I will have a betrothal ring, and we will be married as soon as we can.” And you had agreed, and he had kissed your hand like you were dressed in the finest silks and jewels rather than your dirty servant’s apron, and he left, and you believed him.

Maybe you are a fool for trusting him so after he left you once. But even knowing that…you still believe him. You still believe in the man who held Delia like a little princess. You still believe in the man who defended you from Lady Trombley. You still believe in the man who gave you the gloves. And when you hear people talking in the hallway just after the clock strikes ten, your heart lifts, setting several butterflies alight in your stomach.

You were right to trust him.

Unfortunately, as the minutes tick on, you start to suspect there might be some trouble. While you can’t quite hear what your stepmother is saying, the sound of her cold voice permeates through the walls enough that you can tell she doesn’t plan on letting Beomgyu in. You abandon your chores in the kitchen and follow the sound of her voice towards the hall.

You run into Brighton first, thankfully. “What’s happening?” you ask, even though you’re almost certain you know what is going on.

“You have a caller, Miss L/N,” he says. It’s all he gets out before your stepmother rounds the corner and interrupts.

“We are not taking callers,” she snaps, face even more pinched than usual. “Get back into the house.”

You ignore her. “Who is the caller?”

“Mr. Choi.”

Nervous warmth begins to tingle in your fingertips, which almost makes you groan—this is not the time to be feeling any sort of fluttery butterfly-ness, not when your stepmother is right there. “Let him in.”

Your stepmother snarls. “You are taking no callers—”

“He wasn’t asking for you, Stepmother,” you retort coldly. “Brighton, please bring him in.”

Brighton, smart man that he is, immediately departs. You brace yourself for your stepmother’s inevitable incoming tirade. There isn’t much in this hallway to put between you and her, so you can only hope Brighton comes back quickly.

“You are not the head of this household.”

You glance at the end of the hallway. You really hope Brighton comes back soon.

“You technically aren’t, either.” You take a step back but your stepmother advances faster, her eyes narrowed and sharp. “Henry is. But I don’t suppose you want to take orders from a four year old.”

There’s a flash of skin, a loud cracking sound, and then pain blooms across your left cheek. You cradle it instinctively, biting your lip against the pain. Well, at least the left side of your face will now be matching the right.

Your sharp tongue never fails to get you into trouble these days.

“Go back to the kitchen,” your stepmother snarls, her hands folded deceptively calmly at her waist. What a witch. “I will deal with you after I deal with Mr. Choi.”

“What, are you going to slap him too?” you snap. “He is my caller. I will receive him. You have no right—”

She laughs, high and sharp. “You wish for him to call on you now, when you look like this? Even if you weren’t buried in scandal, I would never let another see you in this dirty garb.”

“And whose fault is that?” You snort. “I wouldn’t be in this dirty garb if it weren’t for you. And for the record, Stepmother…” A smirk creeps across your lips. “He has already seen me like this.”

Horror flashes across her expression. “You—”

“I did.” You let your smirk widen. “He knows.”

You hear the slap before you feel it. The force of her hand against your cheek nearly knocks you against the wall and you don’t manage to stifle your cry, pressing your palm to your cheek in a futile effort to relieve some of the pain. A sharp sting rushes up your face, though, and when you pull your palm away, there’s a thin streak of blood. Her ring must have cut you again.

“You’re an idiot,” you say as calmly as you can. “Mr. Choi is here. In this house. Brighton will be back with him in moments. Do you think it will benefit you at all for him to see me like this? To see you like this?”

She blanches. You keep talking, years of rage boiling over. “What, lost your tongue?” You laugh humorlessly. “All these years you’ve kept me pent up like this, one of your worst secrets—cleaning for you, washing for you, sewing your clothes and mine—you’re lucky I cared enough about Delia and Henry not to say anything.” A sneer curls your lips. “You hit me and you slap me and you know it’s wrong, you know it’s bloody wrong because you never do it in front of the children! Why do you hate me so much? What did I ever do to deserve—”

You see it coming—the hand rising, the palm flashing. Instinctively you flinch. Your eyes slam shut and you cringe away from the hand, covering your cheek as some small protection against the impact.

But it never comes.

You open your eyes. Beomgyu stands beside your stepmother, fingers wrapped tightly around her still-raised wrist. If you weren’t almost hyperventilating, you might laugh at how comically wide her eyes are, but only a slight wheeze manages to press past your lips.

“Miss L/N.” Brighton’s voice sounds next to your ear. You hadn’t registered his presence, but it calms you. “Are you all right?”

“Not—not really.” You look at Brighton, whose usually calm expression has twisted with anger, then at Beomgyu, whose face can only be described as the pure embodiment of cold rage. “But I’m fine.” You don’t take your hand away from your bleeding cheek as you meet Beomgyu’s eyes. “Beomgyu, I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not.” Beomgyu drops your stepmother’s wrist and shoves past her, coming to a stop right in front of you. For all the anger in his movements, his hand is surprisingly gentle as he pries your fingers away from your face, revealing whatever marks she left moments ago. You hiss as open air hits the cut, but Beomgyu’s thumb soothes it slightly. “Is there anything we can use to clean this?” he asks Brighton with deceptive calm.

“I will bring something shortly.” The butler bows, then quickly leaves.

Silence falls in the hallway, though Beomgyu’s anger clearly sizzles in the air. His dark eyes search yours for something, and only when his gaze falls to your cheek do you understand what he’s asking.

“I’m fine,” you say quietly. “Or, I will be.”

It’s clear Beomgyu isn’t happy with your response, but he does seem to realize you don’t want to speak about this—at least not now. He nods almost imperceptibly, then turns to your stepmother. “Leave,” he snaps. He barely gives her a glance.

She gapes, her mouth opening and closing like a fish. If the situation weren’t so charged, you might laugh. “I will not be ordered about in my own home!” she finally manages, her cheeks turning blotchy with embarrassment.

“Good God.” You sigh. “With all due respect, Stepmother, isn’t this exactly what you wanted? For me to be married to a wealthy husband and out of your hair?” You sneer. “If you don’t leave, that fantasy will never come true.”

Her eyes widen more, if that was possible. “You—” She glances between you and Beomgyu wildly. “You want to marry her?”

“I don’t answer to abusers,” Beomgyu says coldly.

“But—”

God, she is the absolute worst. “I don’t suggest you make Mr. Choi any angrier than he already is,” you snap.

With a last incredulous glance, your stepmother hurries out of the hallway. You breathe a sigh of relief. Finally.

Beomgyu’s gaze immediately softens, though concern still burns in his eyes. “I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner,” he says quietly.

“You didn’t know.” You shrug. “It’s fine, Beomgyu. I’ll heal.”

“It’s not that,” he says, eyebrows furrowing. “It’s the fact that this has clearly been going on for a very long time—”

“That is true,” you interrupt. “But I couldn’t say anything then. And anyone who knew didn’t have the power to do anything about it. I am only glad now that I have someone who knows, and who might help protect me.” You take the hand still pressed to your cheek and squeeze it. “I will be fine.”

Beomgyu searches your expression for a long moment. Whatever he is looking for, he seems to find it, because he seems to relax slightly. “If you say so.”

“I do.” You smile, wincing when the movement hurts your cheek. Beomgyu clearly notices but he also clearly sees that you don’t want him to remark on it, so you’re very grateful when he says nothing. You let your voice take on a more playful tone. “Now, what are you here for?”

“Well, I came as I promised yesterday.” His voice takes on somewhat of an edge and you realize he seems almost nervous. It’s very endearing, and your smile widens. “I brought you a ring,” he continues, producing a small box from his pocket. “If you will still accept my suit.” He opens the box.

You gasp. A bright emerald decorates the simple gold band, flanked on each side by small diamonds. There isn’t much light in the hallway but the gems catch what light there is, sparkling cheerfully in the box. “It’s beautiful,” you whisper.

Beomgyu lifts the ring from the box and takes your hand. “It is yours,” he says, voice clearly shaking a little, “if you should like to have it.”

“Of course I would.” To your surprise, you can feel tears coming to your eyes that aren’t just from pain. “My answer hasn’t changed, Beomgyu.”

Relief floods across his expression, a tension disappearing from his shoulders that you hadn’t noticed before. “Oh. That’s good,” he says, smiling slightly. “Good for me, I mean. I just…I wouldn’t have blamed you if you did.”

You keep quiet for a moment, choosing your next words carefully. “I can’t say I wasn’t hurt by what you did, Beomgyu,” you finally say. “I was.”

He nods, looking terribly guilty.

“But I also know that you are not characterized only by your mistakes then.” You smile softly, folding your hands over his. “You are still the man who defended me from Lady Trombley. The man who helped me after Lord Cho. The man who gave me gloves.”

Beomgyu peers at you with his dark eyes, so soft, so kind.

“Maybe it will take us time to work past this.” You shrug. “That’s fine. Everything takes time. But…I know, at least, that I want to work past this with you. I want to be with you.” Your smile grows, trembling on your lips. “We were idiots for so long. I’m just…I’m just glad we were able to get to this point, at least, without it being too late.”

“Well, we only have you to thank for that.” Beomgyu smiles softly, most of the awful guilt slipping off his face. “You were the one who apologized first.”

You make a face. “Desperation can do strange things to a person.”

“Desperation?”

Your cheeks feel warm. “After you kissed me, I couldn’t stop thinking of it.” You turn away, embarrassed. “I couldn’t stand the idea of not seeing you again either. I was desperate. So I apologized, because I at least wanted to be friends.”

Beomgyu’s fingers light on your chin, turning you back to him. “Well, you are far braver than I,” he says sheepishly. “I was too scared to say anything, for fear that you wouldn’t feel the same way.”

You smile teasingly. “That just means you have the rest of our lives to make up for it.”

“Trust me, I will be.” And with that, he slides the ring onto your finger, the gold band comfortingly cool against your skin.

You hold up the hand, admiring the sparkle of the gems even in the dim light of the hall. “It really is lovely,” you murmur.

“It’s one of the betrothal rings that has been in the family for a long time,” Beomgyu says. “Soobin had our mother’s, of course, because he is the first born, but I think this one suits you better anyway.”

The emerald glints against your finger, cheerful and bright. You haven’t seen the other rings in Beomgyu’s family collection, but you’re inclined to agree with him. The longer you look at it, the giddier you feel, even remembering everything that happened just minutes ago. It’s almost unbelievable. You’re going to be married. Married. And to someone you love, even. Your smile widens.

“I can’t really believe this is happening,” you admit, almost in a whisper. It’s more to yourself than to Beomgyu, but he hears you anyway.

“Me neither.” The society version of him is gone now, replaced by a shyer, almost boyish version of him that endears you far more than is good for the butterflies in your chest. “I mean, less than a few months ago we were still at each other’s throats.”

“I suppose you can claim all the credit for this, then.” You laugh. “You’re the one who suggested that ridiculous deal in the first place.”

“I may have suggested it, but you’re the one who took it to the next step.” Beomgyu grins. “Out of desperation.”

You hit him lightly as heat floods your cheeks. “Hey, you felt the same way!”

“I did, and I was an idiot for not acting on it sooner.” Beomgyu steps forward, taking your hands, and suddenly you’re so close you swear he could hear your heart beating right now. “I’m sorry for that.”

“Stop apologizing. I have already forgiven you.” A rush of boldness course through you and you lean your head against Beomgyu’s shoulder. He stiffens for a moment but relaxes so suddenly you almost flinch, and then his arms come to wrap around your waist. It reminds you of how he held you when you kissed and with that memory, you only sink deeper into his hold. “Anyway, what is that thing they say?” you mumble. “Something about there being a line in between love and hate?”

Beomgyu smiles and pushes you away, but just so he can look into your eyes. “There is a fine line,” he murmurs against your ear, his gaze drifting down to your lips, “between hatred and love.”

You laugh as he kisses you, his mouth soft and sweet against yours. “Yes,” you whisper when you pull away. “A very fine line, indeed.”

. . . . .

epilogue.

“Beomgyu!” You run down the stairs, nearly tripping over your skirts in the process. “Where are you? We’re going to be late—”

A hand catches your wrist as you fly down the last few steps. Beomgyu’s laugh rings out when you screech, his arm pulling you flush against him. “I’m right here,” he says into your ear. You hear the smile in his voice even though you can’t see it, pressed to his chest as you are.

“I couldn’t find you!” You pull away, hoping your makeup hasn’t rubbed off onto his outfit. “Where were you hiding?”

“Nowhere.” He sneaks a kiss in between your flailing and you yelp again. “You just weren’t looking hard enough.”

You scowl, but both of you know there’s no real annoyance behind it. “You are incredibly annoying,” you inform him, only to be met with another chuckle.

It’s been a year since the last season, and six months since you married. If you had had it your way, you would have married as soon as he proposed—called the banns in a week, married in a matter of days after that. With your father dead, however, your entire family was sent into mourning. Never mind that you had never cared for the man.

You hated those six months. It wasn’t the seclusion from society, which you honestly didn’t mind—but just…mourning your father. A man who was barely present in your life. A man whose face you wouldn’t have remembered if not for the portrait still stuck up in the drawing room, a man who lied to you for years until he died so far away from home. You almost considered eloping to Gretna Green to escape the months of forced darkness—you’re fairly certain Beomgyu would have agreed—but ultimately decided against it. You had participated in enough scandal during the season to last you a lifetime. You didn’t need any more of it.

It helped when the three month mark came around and you could change out of the void black gowns and into the lighter colors of half-mourning. Not so much because of the clothes, but because you could slowly begin to accept social engagements again. It isn’t that you particularly wanted to see anyone—the season was over by then and you were incredibly glad for that—but Beomgyu could visit, then. It wasn’t as often as you or he would have liked since his family had moved to the country while you stayed in town, but it helped the time pass more quickly, especially when your little half-siblings freed themselves from the clutches of the staff and managed to tumble into the drawing room to join you two. You’re almost certain Delia has a little child-crush on Beomgyu, and Henry looks at him like a role model.

It's adorable.

Still, sometimes those three months seemed interminable. You barely spoke to your stepmother but after so many years of living under her iron fist, you could never feel at ease in the same house as her. When the wedding came around, you didn’t invite her and she didn’t ask to come. It was a lovely day to celebrate your escape from a life you never wished to live.

And here you are, now. Bickering with your husband whom you love in a home you can call your own, free from the back-breaking secret of your previous life and able to live, really live, in a way you haven’t been able to in years. You can even go about in society with your head held high, just like you will tonight.

That is, if Beomgyu decides to stop stalling anytime soon.

He leans in for another kiss but you jerk away before his lips can land on yours. “We’re going to be late, Beomgyu,” you repeat, forcibly pushing his face away.

He looks at you, face mushed still mushed against your hand. You fight the urge to laugh but a smile makes its way onto your lips anyway. “Be honest with me, Y/N,” he says, pulling away with that little twinkle in his eye. “Do you really want to go tonight?”

You open your mouth, ready to respond affirmatively. But then Beomgyu catches you with those very sweet, very alluring eyes, and you pinch your lips together. He’s already won, you both know, but you have to fight him a little bit. Just a little bit.

“You’re telling me we should skip our first public event since coming back from our very extended honeymoon?” You raise an eyebrow.

“Why not?” he asks, sneaking a quick kiss onto your neck. You yelp, squirming away, but he maintains his hold on your waist all the while. “We’d have more fun at home anyway.”

You do your very best to ignore the way he’s smiling against your skin. “We already said that we would go.”

“Something came up. A terrible emergency that required us to return to the country for another month.” Beomgyu decides that whatever he’s doing right now is no longer enough and begins to lay kisses down your neck, trailing them towards your shoulder even though he knows you are incredibly ticklish over there. “You can’t tell me you’re so eager to return to society.”

You sigh. Beomgyu made good on all of his promises—he bought the house for your brother, he set aside money for your sister’s dowry, and he doubled the wages of all your staff in service. Several of them have followed you to your new home, too. And after your wedding, he whisked you away from London and the upcoming season to show you everything he knew in the continent. It was wonderful to leave England and even more wonderful to see the world, but by the end, you had come to the conclusion that it wasn’t just leaving London that gave you this joy. It was the fact that you had someone you loved by your side.

It was the fact that you had Beomgyu.

It sounds terribly cliché, and you had said about as much to Beomgyu when you admitted it the night you returned to London, confessions whispered under the starlit sky. He had asked you if you really felt all right returning to society after the scandals and gossip of the last season and after a moment, you nodded. It would be difficult, but you didn’t want to hide forever. And with someone really and truly on your side, you could believe things would turn out fine.

You thought he’d laugh at you, and he did—a little bit. But that laugh was accompanied by a surprising shyness and warmth in his touch as he pulled you closer under the bedsheets, your head coming to rest against his chest, just under his chin. “That is somewhat cliché,” he had said, words ghosting softly past your skin. “But I am very glad you feel that way.”

Now here you are, ready to attend your first public event of the season, and he’s trying to convince you to stay home.

“I’m not not eager,” you protest.

“But you aren’t exactly saying you’re eager either,” he retorts easily.

You sigh. “We promised we would go,” you say emphatically, but even you can tell that you’re losing ground for your argument here.

Beomgyu hums into your shoulder, his arms sliding down to wrap around your waist from behind. “I’m sure Lady Park will understand,” he murmurs.

That draws you up short. You’d nearly forgotten who was hosting tonight. “We are not skipping out on Lady Park’s ball,” you say, twisting around to look at him fully. “She is probably one of my only supporters in society right now!”

He makes an affronted noise. “What, is my family just chopped liver?”

“They are family,” you retort. “It isn’t the same. If they didn’t support me, we would be in far greater trouble by now.”

Beomgyu falls silent, which means he’s conceding defeat—at least on this front. “Fine, we’ll go,” he eventually groans. “But no one said we have to stay the entire night.” He whirls you around so that you’re facing him directly, and his grin becomes something distinctly inviting. Sensual. Your heart begins to beat uncomfortably quickly. “In fact, no one said we had to arrive on time, either.”

Your mouth suddenly feels very dry. You fight hard to keep your eyes meeting his, and not floating downwards to fixate on his lips. “Beomgyu…”

He grins. He knows he’s winning. “Twenty minutes,” he proposes.

“…Five minutes.”

“Fifteen.”

“Ten.”

“Twelve and a half.” You laugh, and Beomgyu takes your distraction as an opportunity to press his lips to yours again. “Twelve and a half,” he repeats when he pulls away, eyes sparkling. “And by the way, did I tell you how beautiful you look this evening?”

You laugh again, despite yourself. “You are absolutely incorrigible,” you inform him.

“And yet you still love me,” he points out, infuriatingly correct as usual. “Twelve and a half minutes.”

“…Fine.”

He has his lips against yours in less than a second, an arm around your waist pulling you protectively close as your own hands wrap instinctively around his neck. “You are so beautiful,” he whispers against your lips. “I promise, every minute will be worth it.”

Sometimes it just suddenly hits you how lucky you are—how less than two years ago, you believed you would never find a husband, that you would never find love, that you would be forced to run away to avoid a life slated for a miserable end in your old household. Just a year past you believed this man to be your mortal enemy. When you think about it too much, you start to panic. Now that you have everything, a life that months ago you could only have dreamed of, it all feels like it could be taken away so easily.

So as Beomgyu’s lips capture yours again, pressing you against the staircase as his hand rises to caress your cheek, you decide not to think about it. You push your doubt and panic away and focus on here, on now—on the warmth of his hands and his lips, on the love he manages to convey with every miniscule touch. This life is yours, this life filled with so much devotion and warmth, yours to build, yours to love. And if you know yourself, you will never willingly let it go.

When you break away for air, you don’t let Beomgyu pull away too far. You tangle your fingers through his dark hair, grinning all the while. If he notices a few tears of joy threatening to spill down your cheek, he says nothing, just looks at you with his doting smile.

“That was never in doubt,” you reply, staring into loving eyes. “Because every moment with you has always been worth it.”

Reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated! Hope you enjoyed this, and have a lovely day :)

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yeetmeoutthewindowdaddy · 1 day

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A deep dive into Zevlor's devotion (Part 3) Zevlor's actions during Act 1, an analysis of a man who is barely holding on:

THIS POST CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR BG3.

These series of posts were originally one loooooong post— but apparently Tumblr has a character limit, and I found it; so now it's been split into several parts/posts.

(Part 1) Everybody hates tieflings, and how discrimination impacted a young Zevlor.

(Part 2) Elturel's history and culture, the Hellriders, and Zevlor's paladin oath. (Part 2.5)

((Part 3, this post, is where the meat a good chunk of my Zevlor analysis is.))

(Part 4) Zevlor's actions during Act 2, an analysis of a broken man.

(Part 5) Zevlor's actions during Act 3, an analysis of a man with his faith restored.

(Part 6) Zevlor's actions during/ after the epilogue, not all endings are happily ever after— especially not for a tiefling.

(Part 7) Zevlor in a romantic relationship.

I don't think many bg3 players understand just how dedicated and loyal of a person Zevlor is. This ADHD hyper-fixation fueled multipart-thesis is meant to show how Zevlor's past is as tragic as any of the origin characters'/ Durge's. It's meant to show how horrifically broken Zevlor was when he "betrayed" the other tieflings. It's also meant to show that our beloved blorbo would probably be fervently obsessive if he was in a romantic relationship.

Most importantly: It demonstrates how our favorite man Zevlor was most likely a fanatical religious zealot my dudes. He was (probably) a part of the Faerûn equivalent of the Spanish Inquisition lite.

I have kept this as factual as I am able to. Please keep in mind that Baldur's Gate 3 plays it fast and loose with the DND/ Forgotten Realms canon and lore, on top of DND/ the Forgotten Realms itself regularly disregarding and changing it's own lore and canon. DND lore and canon as a whole is a mess. It has multiple universes that sometimes interact and are maybe separate from each other. Full disclosure; I've mixed 1e-5e lore together FUCK 5.5e, because parsing through what is currently considered canon is a nightmare. As far as I'm concerned, as long as a piece of lore was canon at some point in the past 50 years— it's fair game. @y-rhywbeth2 in this post has a more in depth disclaimer. Also please check out their headcanons and lore breakdowns, they're so good.

THIS PROJECT TOOK ME OVER A MONTH TO WRITE. I've tried to find all grammatical and spelling errors. I've tried to ensure that I've cited the correct sources in the correct places.

Before reading this way to long post please look at itsclydebitches analysis on Zevlor. [Alt] Which provided me with so much insight to his character and kickstarted my obsession with him. Also, @itsclydebitches puts ideas into words better than I do.

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● (Part 1) Zevlor before the events of BG3:

Here is what we know, for sure, about Zevlor:

Zevlor is a tiefling.

Zevlor achieved the rank of commander in the Hellriders.

He survived the city's fall into the Hells.

He was a paladin.

He does not have Darkvision.

Finally, here are the headcanons I have cobbled together based on the available albeit often times conflicting information I have gathered: (Hard facts are in green, everything else is speculation on my part.)

The youngest I would put Zevlor at is his mid 50's. The oldest I would put him at is his late 60's.

So this means that he was approximately 5-15 years old during the vampire crisis. Mentally, these are very formative years for a person. It really isn't a stretch of the imagination to assume that this, along with the miraculous appearance of the companion, set young Zevlor on the path to becoming a paladin and a Hellrider.

There aren't many elderly Hellriders around because most die in the line of duty. To have survived into his old age is a testament to Zevlor's skill, dedication, and luck divine favor.

(AN: In Zevlor's Sleep Stories, "a non-profit project created for and run by fans of Baldur's Gate 3 and its characters.", in episode # 8 - Oathsworn Glenn McCready, the official VA of Zevlor, (I only point out that the stories are narrated by the official VA because I think it's really cool that he and the fans have collaborated on the project. It is not meant to imply that him narrating the project means he has any opinions on how Zevlor is depicted in them, nor is it meant to lend any weight to the Sleep Stories being regarded as canon. Please check it out, it's an amazing project.) narrated a story in which Zevlor was stated to be 10 years old when the Companion first appeared— making Zevlor ~60 during the events of BG3. Zevlor's Sleep Stories is NOT canon, but I'm going to view this one story as canon in my heart; unless/ until Larian releases content/ info that contradicts it.)

This post [alt] by @nightmarist and @space-blue with contributions from @haru-sen is a wonderful source for some history of Elturel, how the Hellriders and Zariel are connected, how paladin's and their oaths work, and an analysis of how being exiled from Elturel changed/ impacted Zevlor's oath.

Zevlor would have had to devote himself 3x more than a non-tiefling Hellrider would've:

Hellriders were held to a high moral standard in a city that already had strict moral codes of conduct.

The Order of the Companion members took the Hellriders dedication a step further by swearing an oath to the city on a god.

Zevlor would have been under intense scrutiny for the crime of being a tiefling. For him to have made the rank of Commander despite this means that he proved, beyond a shadow of a shadow of a doubt, that he was devoted to protecting Elturel.

For added angst I like to headcanon that he had only achieved the rank of Commander a few tendays before Elturel fell into the Hells. And that it took so long for Zevlor to achieve the rank of Commander because he was rejected for promotions in favor of someone who wasn't a tiefling, even if they were less suited for the job than Zevlor was. And that if he wasn't a tiefling then he would've become a commander many years earlier.

Which means that for the entirety of his adult life Zevlor wholly devoted himself to being a Hellrider. He had to forsake everything else, being a Hellrider was his life's purpose.

That level of dedication cannot be faked or forced. He truly believed in being a Hellrider and what the Hellriders stood for/ represented.

And he was thanked for his years of unyielding service by being

● (Part 2) Banished from Elturel:

Zevlor's years of service, his countless sacrifices, and unwavering dedication to the protection of the city and its inhabitants meant nothing to the people of Elturel after the city was returned from the hells. Tieflings looked like the devils that had tormented them in hell (nevermind that the tieflings were also subject to the abuse from devils) and as such they were blamed for the city's Decent into Avernus.

"Many if not all the city's tieflings were exiled from the city, thanks to a new wave of misplaced fear and newly-formed prejudice."

This hatred from the people he loved so dearly didn't lead to Zevlor breaking his oath, it shattered Zevlor's very faith itself. (FFS, I can't find a clip of the Narrator describing Zevlor's time in/ just after Avernus when you click on him when he's in the mindflayer pod in Act 2. Please just trust me on this one.)

Zevlor didn't break his oath, it was broken for him. Hellriders swear to "Serve the realm of Elturgard, and defend the city of Elturel body and soul.", and he was forced to abandon the city.

Earlier in this series I had mentioned how exiled Hellriders were stripped of their gear before being cast out of the city. Zevlor, and the other tiefling Hellriders at the end of the game, still have some of their Hellrider gear. [alt] This makes me think that the other Hellriders refused to completely strip their tiefling family members of their gear because they did not agree with the city's bigoted decision. Letting them keep their gear would have been a subtle hint (and resistance to the city's authority) that the other Hellriders still considered their tiefling comrades as fellow Hellriders.

Whether the exiled tiefling Hellriders were still considered members of the Hellriders by the remaining Hellriders or not, Zevlor was now a

● (Part 3) Refugee:

But Zevlor still had a purpose, he and his fellow banished tiefling Hellriders swore to defend the civilian refugees on their journey to Baldur's Gate.

Tilses, and I assume the other Hellriders, still referred to Zevlor as Commander, and still considered him a Hellrider. She believed that no one could revoke their membership to the Hellriders, but Zevlor did. "They can [take away our Hellrider membership], and did. Avernus changed things — best we get used to that." - Zevlor

They were attacked multiple times on the road, and they had many casualties, and so Zevlor carried on as he always had— as a paladin sworn to protect his people. The refugees and the other, younger, Hellriders needed him to be a strong leader with unwavering faith, so that's what he was— but it was all an act. An act that got harder and harder to keep up as the days wore on and the rations, and survivors, dwindled.

But then they stumbled upon a possible salvation,

● (Part 4) The Emerald Grove:

They were welcomed in with open arms by the Archdruid Halsin. For the first time in who knows how long the refugees could rest. Sure, most of the other druids seem to barely tolerate the tieflings— but the Archdruid had made his position on their continued sanctuary within the grove clear.

And then the Archdruid Halsin went off with a set of very inexperienced and racist adventures, leaving a woman who could barely hide her contempt for the refugees as temporary Archdruid. Which should have only been for a few days at most, Zevlor knew he could play nice long enough to placate Kagha until Halsin returned, it was fine.

But Halsin didn't return, because he'd been kidnapped. And worse, Zevlor find this out because those inept adventures brought a pack of goblins right to the gate of the Grove.

I think the goblin attack was when Zevlor truly began to crumble. He would've been overwrought with guilt and self-doubt. Had he not spent ~20 seconds berating and interrogating Aradin over leading goblins straight to the Grove, and instead used that time to open the gate, then Kanon's death could've been avoided.

Worse still is that he ordered a man who wasn't wearing any armor to open the gate. Zevlor blames himself for Kanon's death, and he would mentally self-flagellate himself over his own cowardice: How he, a Commander in the Hellriders, took cover while Kanon, a tailor by trade, bravely continued opening the gate while the goblins were firing arrows at him.

After a hard-fought battle, the goblins are defeated. Then Aradin swaggers in acting as though he didn't just do a profoundly stupid thing by leading the goblins straight to defenseless citizens. Not only that, the uppity shithead Aradin blames Halsin for getting himself kidnapped. And then Aradin strikes a nerve, calling Zevlor a coward (and a slur). I think that Zevlor is already contending with his own guilt from thinking that he himself acted cowardly. For Aradin to call him a coward, on top of all the other stupid shit he's been spouting off, is too much to bear, and Zevlor's rage/ self-loathing is about to erupt into violence.

Luckily, the group of actually competent adventures who arrived and saved the day also managed to diffuse the tension between Zevlor and Aradin.

Or not. Leading to Zevlor punching the overtly racist idiot.

Punching Aradin (acting on his inherent desire for violence*, specifically) is something that I believe is wildly out of character for Zevlor. Aradin isn't the first mouthy prick he's come across, and if Zevlor had responded with violence to all of them then he wouldn't have been able to become a Commander. The stress Zevlor's been under has finally boiled over, and now that he no longer considers himself a Hellrider (and is constantly in survival mode trying to keep himself and the other tieflings alive), keeping a tight lid on his anger isn't something he really cares about anymore.

*"Tieflings also had access to an ability known as infernal wrath, which channeled their innate rage and potential for evil into their attacks for added effectiveness."

I cannot emphasize enough how much self discipline and restraint Zevlor has. His infernal heritage in combination with the overt discrimination he has undoubtedly faced his entire life, plus a healthy dose of pride, are a vicious cocktail of honestly justified anger issues. (AN: Based on him having more physical infernal features than the other tieflings do [alt] I headcanon that he possesses a temper closer resembling a devil's than the less infernal-looking tieflings do.)

Zevlor has been unchained. When it becomes clear that diplomacy won't work Zevlor tells the player that Kagha is their main obstacle, and that without her influence the other druids may see sense. The way he phrases this sentence allows Tav to "read between the lines" and see that Zevlor is open to killing Kagha, while also giving himself plausible deniability. Zevlor didn't suggest murdering Kagha, Tav did. Zevlor is "still hoping that Kagha can be swayed from this madness.", but if not... well, surely Tav understands how "Leaders need to make tough decisions. We do what we must."

Notice how slyly he phrased that— "we", subtly putting himself and Tav in the same category/ on the same team. But most importantly he never outright says to Tav "I want you to kill Kagha", it's implied. His 17 charisma and years of politicking around racism and red tape really shows here; because if shit goes south and Tav fails in their assassination attempt then, even if he has ingested a truth serum, Zevlor can honestly tell the druids that he never asked Tav to kill Kagha. If Tav doesn't suggest killing Kagha then Zevlor doesn't bring it up, and instead asks Tav to take out the goblin camp leaders.

(I am only citing this one dialogue tree option. There are more dialogue tree options, but I can't find videos of them and I am currently unable to play BG3 to explore the different options myself.)

Zevlor is proficient in using manipulation tactics and his knowledge of psychology to garner his preferred outcome. To be clear— I don't think he would have acted in such an underhanded way before being exiled, but desperate times call for desperate measures. I do think that pre-descent Zevlor was no stranger to using manipulation/ his psychological insight to achieve his goals, he would've had to because of the prejudice he faced, but it would've been used for more benign reasons (such as being treated with basic respect instead of open contempt).

(AN: Manipulation in and of itself isn't inherently bad, we all use manipulation to some extent in our day to day lives. So long as they are not abused little white lies and benign manipulations, along with having/ using tact, allow society to smoothly function. Like how saying "Please get me a glass of water." is perceived more favorably, and is more likely to convince a person to get you a glass of water, than "Get me a glass of water." Saying please is considered polite, and people are much more likely to acquiesce to a request if someone is polite. 'You catch more flies with honey than with vinegar.' Or how you might wait until after someone has eaten to ask them for something, because they're more likely to agree to your request when they're not hangry.)

Zevlor was once a very proud man, and he had every right to be— becoming a Commander in the Hellriders is a remarkable achievement. Becoming a Commander in the Hellriders in the face of profound discrimination? Nothing short of a triumph. The Zevlor we meet at the Grove is a shadow of the man he used to be. The fall into Avernus and everything that happened after it has sucked most of the life out of him.

We still catch glimpses of the proud Hellrider Commander with the power of god and anime on his side that Zevlor once was. This post [alt] by @dimmadoome demonstrates not only Zevlor's pride, but his infernal temper and possessiveness (which I will cover in a different post). Listen to his speech here. This is a man who has lead his fellow warriors into battle. A man who fought for what he believed in and refused to give up even in the face of insurmountable danger. You can see the hell fire in his eyes blazing bright with righteous fury.

And then there's the speech he gives after defeating Minthara. Note his emphasis on the tieflings being not just survivors, but family. When he says 'family' he has a proud, gentle smile. (His high charisma and experience with giving rousing speeches may be the only reason why his mien changes during this part of his speech, but I think he's being sincere.) If you start that video from the beginning you can see him take a moment to collect himself because he's exhausted, but he knows his people need him to be a strong unflappable leader.

(Did you catch how he quickly pivots from hauteur "Tymora smile on me." to deference "We did it. You did it."? Manipulate, mansplain, malewife the hell out of them Zevlor.)

This portion of the video highlights Zevlor's loyalty to his comrades in arms. He calls Tav family— remember, Hellriders are extremely loyal to one another (and tieflings are very loyal to those who prove themselves trustworthy), this is how he behaved towards all his fellow Hellriders before he has cast out of Elturel. His faith is still broken, but Tav/Durge/Origin has reignited a glimmer of hope in him.

I think this is the only time I've ever seen this poor man actually relax and smile. But then he immediately goes back to looking pensive and walled off. I may be delulu and reading too far into things, but I don't think this is merely his character model returning to its default— I think it demonstrates exactly how Zevlor has been living for years: Silently admonishing himself for letting his guard down and his control slip. Desperately wanting to let go and forget himself and his propriety for a while but being unwilling, possibly unable, to do so.

That being said he does somewhat relax at

● (Part 5) The Tiefling Party:

There isn't a lot to say here. Zevlor isn't imbibing (much) to ensure that he keeps his wits about him— both so that he can supervise the people who are partying, and keep watch for potential threats. Even though he's not partying, Zevlor is elated to see the tiefling refugees smiling and relaxing. He knows that the journey ahead of them is fraught with danger/ trials and tribulations. He even looks the other way when his people spike the punch to make purple drank.

In Early Access to thank Tav for saving them Zevlor made a (bugged) light show where every light in it represented a life that Tav and Co. had saved. The party is the last time Zevlor is happy and hopeful before everything falls apart, as we will see in the next installation of this series: (Part 4) Zevlor's actions during Act 2, an analysis of a broken man.

Here's a link to the master list for this series.

Thanks for reading!

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anemhoez · 2 days

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Seven…

Gallagher/AFAB Reader

WARNINGS: language, unprotected sex, choking, breeding

A/N: i never not think about him……..and im not ashamed

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

“There’s something seriously wrong with you.” Caelus’ voice sounded exhausted as he stood up and put his clothes back on. The two of you had just finished having sex, his exhaustion emanating from trying hard to make you reach your peak to no avail.

“What did you say?” you couldn’t believe he was blaming you in that moment as a wave of sudden guilt washed over you. “Well it can’t be me, I’m powered by a stelleron for aeon’s sake,” he sighed and turned to you, “Besides, I know for a fact i can make someone come, you’re just impossible.”

Your mind quickly dissected his words, your heart sinking as you realized what he meant. “Did you cheat on me?” your voice hitched in your throat and he just scoffed. “Only once, I needed to know that I wasn’t the broken one.” He sighed and headed out of the room without another word. You started to cry and quickly shoved your face into your pillow to sob as loud as you could.

“I’m so sorry that happened to you! I’ll stay with you as long as you need me to, okay?” March’s sweet comforting voice eased your nerves a bit as she patted your head while you lay in her lap. “To be honest, I really didn’t expect that from him,” she sighed and leaned back on her hands. “But, you shouldn’t beat yourself up over it, it’s his loss.” you appreciated her trying to cheer you up, but by now you just wanted to be alone and lie in bed and cry some more. “Oh! I have a great idea! she yelped suddenly, “Let’s go to Penacony, to get your mind off of all this!” Her suggestion wasn’t horrible, but the thought of dressing up and going out when you felt the farthest thing from beautiful made you reconsider.

“March, I don’t know if that’s the best idea, I don’t even feel like myself right now.” You sat up and wiped your tears before they rolled down your cheeks. March stood up and went to her closet, “Too bad, no way I’m going to let my hot friend waste away in their room cause some loser doesn’t realize how good he has it.” she pulled out one of her dresses and held it against her body, “The best thing to do is get all dolled up and show off! Make him jealous!” The pink haired girl twirled and you couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm. You sighed and stood up, “Fine, but don’t expect me to have a good time!” you said before heading off and getting ready.

Luckily for the two of you, Himeko had some business with the Oak family and an impromptu trip to Penacony was made. As you all prepared for the warp jump, you made sure to avoid Caelus’ stare as he sat across from you. “He’s totally checking you out,” March whispered to you. You didn’t care at first, but that little fleeting feeling of wanting his approval flashed in your mind only briefly before the train hurtled through the jump and brought you to your senses.

You looked incredible after cleaning yourself up nicely and wearing your sexiest dress. You darted your eyes to him and he was indeed staring at you. You just smiled and turned to March who giggled at your interaction.

You and Himeko headed out of the express as March kissed Dan Heng goodbye, reassuring him she’d call if she needed him. You sighed as she ran to catch up to the two of you, “I really wish i was in bed right now.” March scoffed and took your hand, “Oh well! You’re way too pretty to be wasting away on the express crying over that cheater, right Himeko?”

Himeko nodded with a smile, “March is right, this will be good for you, try to relax okay?” You took their advice in stride and the two of you parted ways with her once you reached Golden Hour, agreeing to meet at the Reverie Hotel when the night was over.

The two of you headed off to the casino first, trying your luck at the machines and roulette. Afterwards you headed to a bar March recommended, promising you’d get a free drink just for being a nameless. “Siobhan makes the best drinks, and you can also meet Mr, Gallagher-“ March stopped talking suddenly, as if she realized something important. “Oh right, I forgot he’s gone.” You had heard a bit about what transpired during the last time they were here when you first joined. You joined a few months after the chaos and some of the details were fuzzy, so you couldn’t place who exactly this Mr. Gallagher was.

The two of you reached Siobhan’s bar and she welcomed March like an old friend. March quickly introduced the two of you and Siobhan graciously went to make the two of you a drink. “See?” March said as the two of you sat down at the bar. Siobhan brought the beautifully colored drinks over and placed them in front of the two of you, “To the nameless!” she cheered and the three of you soon began chatting and catching up.

“Well look who it is,” Siobhan said as she looked behind the two of you. You and March couldn’t help but turn and look in that same direction. March almost choked on her drink. “Mr Gallagher?!”

A tall man walked up to the bar, a small smile on his slightly bearded face. “Ms. March, you look like you’ve just seen a ghost,” he teased and patted her head gently. March just started to cry and Gallagher immediately tried comforting her, “Hey, don’t cry!”

Siobhan laughed, “Can you believe he said the same thing to me? My best friend comes back from the dead and he expects me not to tear up, silly old man.” Gallagher held March closely as she composed herself and he finally turned to you. Your heart skipped a beat slightly, this big gorgeous man turning his attention to you shouldn’t have affected you like that. “And this is?” he asked and March finally sat back down, introducing you as the latest nameless.

“That explains the drink in front of you,” he moved closer to you and reached out a hand, “The name’s Gallagher, security officer for the bloodhound family, nice to meet you.” you took his hand with a smile, “Ah, the famous Gallagher, I’ve heard so much about you! It’s nice to finally put a face to the infamous name.” He chuckled and looked back at March with a smirk, “Ms. March I hope you haven’t been spreading lies about me?” he questioned as he went behind the bar. March rolled her eyes with a sigh, “There’s really no need to lie when the truth is a way better story!”

You learned more about Gallagher and his disappearance, the realm he was stuck in threatening to control his mind. “Once i figured out that it was just another corruption of the dreamscape, I was able to escape.” you took a sip of your drink while March sighed. “I can’t wait to tell the others, actually hold on.” she grabbed her phone snd jumped up, “Can we take a picture?” She asked him kindly and he couldn’t refuse. March handed you her phone and you quickly took the picture. She beamed and sent the picture in the group chat, your phone chiming not that long after.

You didn’t bother looking at it though, knowing you’d instantly get annoyed by whatever Caelus had to say. Honestly he could ask for forgiveness right now and you’d still be so annoyed. You sighed and finished off your drink, Gallagher hurrying over to take the empty glass, “Can I get you another drink sweetheart?” he asked with a smile. You almost choked at his words, feeling your face getting hot and flush as he walked off. March noticed and elbowed you, “How unsubtle of you,” she giggled and pulled you to the dance floor.

“You’re interested aren’t you?” she asked in a hushed tone as the two of you swayed to the music. You rolled your eyes, “I’m getting over a break up, I don’t really want to start talking to someone else.” She took your hands and spun you with a giggle, “Who said anything about talking?” You gave her a look and she just poked you, “Come on why not? you’re both sexy and it’s not like he’s a complete stranger, I can vouch for him!” she said and you raised a brow at her. “Didn’t he like, stab a bunch of people?” she waved off your question, “Details, details.”

After a few more drinks, March was starting to sway on her own and slur her speech. She sighed and leaned on you, “I miss my dragon,” she said and drunkenly sent Dan Heng a text. You couldn’t help but laugh at the way she typed away on her phone with the biggest smile on her face. “I take it you wanna head back?” She sighed as you ordered two waters, “Nooooo, were having so much fun!” she took the water Gallagher handed her and took a deep swig.

“Didn’t know Ms. March was such a lightweight,” he joked from where he stood drying the glassware. You took the time to subtly admire his body, his delicious proportions filling out his clothes nicely. His brown hair looked silky and soft to the touch, the stubble on his face adding to his rugged look. You had a fleeting thought about never fucking someone with his body type before but stopped once March elbowed you. She hiccuped, “Babe, you’re staring.” she tried to whisper but it came out louder than it should have. You just pinched her leg quietly and checked your phone. “Himeko’s all done with her meeting, we should head back to the room.”

March stood up and swayed, losing her balance and crashing into you. Siobhan turned to Gallagher, “Aren’t you staying in the Reverie too? Could you walk them back to their rooms?” she turned to the two of you, “If that’s alright with the two of you?” she asked you politely.

“That would be great actually,” you agreed and Gallagher quickly came over and picked March up in his arms with ease. You waved to Siobhan and thanked her before the three of you headed off to your room.

Upon reaching the room, you saw Himeko roll her eyes at the state March was in. “This is what happens when you don’t get out that much,” she sighed and opened the door. Gallagher placed March down gently onto one of the beds and Himeko thanked him. “Thank you, also it’s great to see you.” she said and patted him on the arm. The two of them talked briefly as you freshened up for your next destination. They laughed and you looked over at them, noticing how good they looked together.

What was wrong with you? Why were you thinking such things at a time like this? Did you really care if he thought you were attractive? A part of you said yes, you couldn’t help but think about him in that way, wanting someone like him to compliment you after dealing with someone who hurt you as bad as Caelus did. “Well i should get going, give my regards to the rest of the express crew.” you heard Gallagher’s voice head towards the door. You popped out of the bathroom just in time to lock eyes with him.

Did he just blush? You weren’t sure of what you saw, but you needed to ask him something, “Mr. Gallagher, if you have the time, can you take me to the Radiant Feldspar?” He stared at you for a second, his eyes moving from yours to your newly painted red lips. “Uh, yeah sure, not ready for the night to be over?” he asked with a smile. Himeko walked up to you, “Are you going to see Bonajade?”

You turned to her and rubbed the back of your head, “Yeah I just, wanted to ask her about something.” Himeko shook her head and gave you a hug, “There’s nothing wrong with you, but go on, and be safe.” she said warmly and you hugged her back.

“So uh, what could you possibly want from Bonajade?” Gallagher asked as the two of you waited in the cue for the ship. You looked at your hands, suddenly feeling embarrassed and avoiding eye contact all of a sudden. “I want her to fix me.” you said simply.

“Fix you? You sick or something?” he asked sounding almost concerned. “It’s nothing like that, it’s more of a problem that I have,” Caelus words replayed in your head, a tear threatening to fall, “it’s why my ex cheated on me.” you cleared your throat and looked forward, avoiding his gaze that was fixed on you. “Oh wow, I’m sorry I asked.” he said as he coughed awkwardly.

“It’s okay, once Bonajade helps me, we can get back together.” Gallagher couldn’t believe what you were saying, “You’d get back with a cheater?” he turned to you, “I know it’s not my business but damn, someone as pretty as you can have whoever they want, why get back with that loser?” A part of you knew he had a point, but another part of you still loved Caelus deeply. “I still love him unfortunately, and if I could just, cum for him maybe he’d-“ you stopped yourself and turned away from him, mentally slapping yourself for talking too much.

It didn’t phase him however, “So he blames you? ‘Cause he’s inadequate?” Gallagher’s voice got louder towards the end of his sentence and you turned to him. “He said there was, something wrong with me, so he went and fucked someone else to prove he could still make someone, forget it.” you said, moving forward a bit once the line started moving.

It was quiet between the two of you for a bit before Gallagher spoke up. “You are aware that this will come at a price, right?” he spoke as he pulled a cigar from his shirt pocket. His lighter flicked open and he took a drag once it was lit. “I know but, I’m willing to try whatever.” He scoffed at your words, looking over the floating dock and into the bright lights of the city.

“It won’t work you know, no matter what Bonajade does,” his voice was so low you could swear you felt it in your gut. “It’s all his fault, not yours.” he took a long drag and stood quietly looking at the ground. A part of you already knew that, that it couldn’t all be you. But your mind was so clouded by trying to keep him, to at least hold onto something that could possibly fix your relationship, that you still held on to that small shred of hope. “Have you ever had a problem like this?” you turned to him and saw a smile spread on his face. “Hell no, I know what the fuck I’m doing.” he said and exhaled a plume of smoke from his nose.

You got hot, the confidence in his voice was so sexy. “What I mean to say is, everyone’s different, but I always try my best to make sure the other person is feeling as good as I am, otherwise what’s the fucking point?” Of course there would be issues in any relationship, but in retrospect, you don’t think Caelus ever really took the time to care if you were feeing good. The line moved further and the two of you moved along with it. “He’s the only person I’ve ever, you know, been with.” you said out of nowhere, feeling like you needed to explain yourself further, “I just, thought he loved me enough but, he doesn’t.”

Gallagher shook his head, the cigar in his mouth glowing in the dim lighting, “Damn shame, I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off of you.” Your heart jumped again, his words doing all the right things in this moment. God you wanted to just kiss him hard and let him show you all the things he knew.

The line became smaller, only two people in front of you now. Gallagher bent down to neatly stub out his cigar before putting it back in its case and in his pocket. “Bonajade won’t be able to help you like I can.” His words went in one ear and out of the other as another person went into the ship.

You soon registered what he said and turned to him, “What did you say?” He chuckled and met your gaze, “You heard me.” the confidence he had in that moment was so intoxicating, you almost choked. He took you by the chin gently, his deep red eyes darted towards your lips. “Let me help you forget all about him,” he started to lean in, about to kiss you when the host cleared their throat. “Excuse me, you may enter, sorry about the long wait.” He pulled away from you, “Right, I’ll wait out here for you,” the man sighed and headed off.

You quickly entered the ship, looking at the directory to help you find the pawn shop. Gallagher’s words played in your mind, his offer was tempting and your mind reeled with thoughts of all the possibilities a big muscular, probably big dicked man like him had to offer. You sighed, finally deciding that you were going to put your pleasure first for once.

You ran out of the ship and to where Gallagher was standing. Before he could speak you had your lips pressed against his. His large hands pulled you closer to him by your waist. You could taste the tobacco from his cigar still on his tongue before you pulled away for air. “Can we get out of here?,” you whispered against his lips and he nodded in response.

The two of you arrived at his room in the Reverie, your hands slowly trailing up his back as he unlocked the door. He pulled you into his room and immediately pinned you against the door once it was closed, “There’s nothing wrong with you sweetheart,” he whispered against your lips and took your face in both of his hands, kissing you hard. You kissed him back, tugging on his shirt to pull him closer. He picked you up, just as easily as he did March earlier, not once breaking the kiss as he walked you over to his bed.

He placed you down softly and finally pulled away, only to remove his gloves, tie and shirt. He got down on his knees with a grunt and began removing your heels, tossing them aside and roaming his hands up your thighs. “You’re gorgeous, do you know that?” he looked up at you through his lashes and began kissing your soft skin.

Your body erupted with heat as he opened your legs and kissed up your inner thighs. He darted his tongue out and licked a trail from your mid thigh to your clothed cunt. He growled at how excited you already were for him, licking at your wetness through the fabric of your underwear. You squirmed under him, moaning as he sucked and licked desperately at the lace of you panties. Not being able to wait any longer, you moved to pull down your underwear yourself, earning a deep chuckle from him. Once you were bare in front of him, he went up to you and gave you a kiss, “Tell me something sweetheart, that man of yours really never, ever, made you cum?” he asked as his thick fingers pushed into you. You arched your back against him and licked your lips, “Only a few times with his mouth, but he rarely even did that.” He cocked his head to the side, curving his fingers to search around inside of you for that one spot that would make you putty in his hands. You moaned once he found it, a smile spreading on his face, “You poor thing,” he pulled out of you and sucked on his fingers with a moan. He leaned down and finally met your folds with his mouth, giving your pussy a few kisses before licking up your slick and sucking hard on your clit. You moaned and steadied yourself quickly by gripping onto the sheets, his eyes meeting yours as he worked. He pulled your legs over his shoulders, “I’ll make you come as many times as you need, I promise.”

He spit on your pussy, lapping up his saliva along with your essence. He ate you out like a man starved, slurping you up and teasing your clit with his tongue. He moved to piston his tongue in and out of you, using his fingers to rub your clit once he snaked his hand over your thigh. It wasn’t long before your hands went to his hair, pulling him closer, “Gonna, cum-ah!” you yelped as your body erupted in euphoria, your legs twitching and body writhing under him. You heard him chuckle as he pulled back, wiping his mouth. He stuffed his fingers back into you, your cunt messier now with your release. “Look at you, so pretty when you come, wanna do it again?” He curved his digits, pushing up against your sweet spot, causing your breath to hitch in your throat. You moved against his fingers, meeting his gaze with an almost plea. “Yes Gallagher, please!“ your voice cracked as he fucked you faster with his fingers. “Go on doll,” he growled as he came up to kiss you, swallowing your moans as you came hard once again.

You broke the kiss, looking at him while your chest heaved. “Take your pants off, now.” He smiled at your orders and stood up, doing just as you asked. You took your dress off, then your bra and wasted no time in taking all of him into your mouth once he was naked. Gallaghers abs constricted as you sucked him off greedily, a low satisfied moan coming from his throat. “Aeons,” he said and held the back of your head, “just like that, take the whole thing.” You relaxed your throat and felt him as he pushed himself completely into your mouth, his hairs tickling your nose as his balls slapped against your chin. “Perfect,” he huffed and continued to thrust into your mouth.

You dug your nails into his thighs, gagging hard against him and looking up at him through your lashes. The man soon took pity on you and pulled out, your precum stained lips sucking his tip before moving to suck on his sack. “As much as I love this,” he said as he held his dick by the base and tapped it on your stuck out tongue, “I need to be inside of you.”

The two of you moved onto the bed, your anxiety finally melting away with every gentle touch he gave you. It’s as if he tried to give you all of the passion Caelus was supposed to, in this one night. “How do you want it doll?” his gruff voice asked as he sucked marks into your neck while his big hands squeezed your breasts. “Wanna, ride you.” Your voice betrayed you as you whined out your response, but you didn’t care.

He quickly moved you to straddle him, his rough hands holding you over him. The head of his thick cock prodded at your entrance, “Go on sweetheart, indulge yourself.” he said as he let go of you, leaning against the headboard and watching you as you finally sunk down on him. “So big!” you yelped as he filled you up deliciously.

Aided by your slicked cunt, you bounced on him, your arms resting on his shoulders as you stared at him with pure hedonistic lust. He looked at you with such admiration, slowly grinding his hips up into you as you worked. “Thats it,” his nails dug into your skin, his voice coaxing you on as you felt your peak nearing. “Pussy so tight and perfect, shame that man of yours couldn’t please it properly.” He slapped your rear with both hands and roughly grabbed it as you began to clench down on him. “So fucking good,” you sighed as your nails scratched down his chest and abs.

“Fuck!” you convulsed on top of him, the smile you saw on his face before throwing your head back would surely be burned into your memory. He came into you with a grunt, slowly thrusting up into you as his hot seed filled you.

He pulled you close and moaned into your mouth, catching every word of praise that dripped from your lips. “Shit, did you cum in me?” your voice tired as you held onto his chest as you heaved. “Sure did, nothing to worry about in the dreamscape though.” you moved off of him, thick ropes of cum connecting the two of you as you moved. You lay on your back and used your fingers to push his cum back into you, “Really? Then please do it again,” you whined as he moved to hover over you. His lips kissing yours as he wasted no time in entering you once he was hard again.

The big man above you thrust into you roughly, pounding into your pussy like he knew you needed. “Yes, ah fuck me!” you whined in his ear, a moan falling from his mouth. “Aeons your fucking tight,” he growled and pushed your legs up further, his dick fucking deeper into you as he practically folded you in half. “Some men just don’t know how good they have it, I could live in you if you’d let me.” you pulled him down into yet another heated kiss, your peak soon nearing as hard as it did the last time.

“Faster Gallagher,” you begged and he picked up his pace, his fat cock so deep in you now you swore you felt it in your gut. “Never had a cock like this doll? Gonna come all over it again?” You just nodded and gritted your teeth, your nails digging into the skin of his back as he fucked you faster and harder. He could feel you start to clench down, “Cum baby, you deserve it.” And as if his words were a command, you came again, your body convulsing under him as he continued to pump into you, using you as his sleeve and cumming in you hard. “Gonna breed you so good sweetheart.” his voice was gravely in your ear as he filled you even more.

He kissed your cheek before leaning up and watching his cum drip out of you as you caught your breath. He shoved two fingers into your messy cunt and fingered you brutally, your oversensitive body writhed and your pussy throbbed as his fingers brought you to another near blinding orgasm. You squirt all over his hand, the most mischievous look on his face. “It’s like youve never been touched before, fuck.” you watched through half lidded eyes as he got hard again. His stamina impressed you, especially for a man his age.

You tiredly turned so that your ass was facing him, your tight hole now gaping and dripping cum from how hard he fucked you. “More.” you said as you looked back at him and swayed your hips. He slapped your ass, his body moving to slot between your legs. “You’ll never be able to fuck him again after this, you know that right?” his thick cock pushed into you with ease, the new position causing your back to arch. “Good, I don’t plan to.”

Gallagher practically brutalized your pussy now, his hands on either side of you as he bucked his hips against you roughly. His thick balls slapped against your clit, your body giving out quickly as you moaned his name over and over through yet another orgasm. He leaned down and began whispering praises into your ear, using you as he pleased but making sure you felt every inch and drag of his thick cock. “Perfect little pussy all mine, yeah? You won’t be able to take any other cocks like this sweetheart, you’re mine.” he gruffed and growled as he came again, stuttering against you and reaching around your body to rub your clit. You soon came for the sixth time that night, completely spent and sighing out in pure bliss under him. He pumped into you a few more times before cumming into you again, sweaty and tired but in a much different way than your previous lover was.

“The man is always the problem.” He reassured you gently with a kiss and pulled your body close to him, allowing you to finally rest and bask in the sub-space you were currently in. You felt like jelly in his hands, every touch sending your nerves alight. “You want me to walk you back now or in the morning?” he whispered as his hands massaged your sore body. “Morning,” you mumbled and closed your eyes to rest against him. He hummed and kissed your forehead, massaging you softly until you fell asleep.

You awoke at an ungodly hour to your phone ringing, answering it quickly as to not wake Gallagher. “Hello?” you asked with your voice almost gone. March began yelling from the other side, “Where the fuck are you?!” her loud voice caused you to pull the device away from your ear. “March calm down! I’m fine, I stayed with Gallagher last night, I’m sorry I didn’t text or call I was, busy.”

She continued to ramble, giving you an earful about how careless you were but then stopping once she remembered it was mostly her idea for the two of you to get together. ”Busy? Riiiiight, well ok then.” You could hear her and Himeko giggling and just hung up the phone, hoping that was enough to prove to them that you were alright.

You turned and cuddled up against Gallagher, his lips coming to kiss your forehead as he stirred awake. “Ready to head back?” he asked before moving to kiss your waiting lips. You shook your head with a giggle, “Not yet.” Your hand trailed down his front and pulled at his cock. “You’re not hurling?” he asked with a chuckle and gave you a kiss, taking your leg and pulling it over his waist.

He held the base of his cock and tapped the tip against your clit, “Need to get fucked one last time before you leave Penacony, yeah?” You nodded and he slipped into you with a grunt. “Messy cunt still so full of me, fuck!” he cursed into your neck as you hung onto his every word, getting drunk all over again on the pleasure he gave you.

“Need more daddy, don’t know when I’ll be back, ahh!” You moaned loudly as he thrust into you extra hard from the name you had called him. “You just call me daddy, sweetheart?” he asked as he moved to hover over you. He wrapped a hand around your throat, “All you sluts on the express this fucking desperate?” he asked as the grip on your neck tightened. “Spend all your time traveling the galaxy, and you cant find any good dick to satisfy you?” he asked pointedly with another harsh thrust. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, his dick plunging deep into you with hard, slow thrusts.

He hit your spot every time, growling curses and names at you as you tightened around him. His dick abused your hole, loud squelching sounds accompanied by your moans and his grunts filled the room. You breathlessly stuck out your tongue, your legs shaking wildly as your orgasm washed over you intensely. He spit onto your tongue, wiping up the mess with his fingers and shoving them down your throat. “I wanna be there when he sees you stumbling in from how good you’ve been fucked.” he said with a chuckle and leaned back, fucking you with a few more thrusts before throwing his head back and finishing inside of you. The two of you kissed for a while after that, his soft dick inside of you keeping warm with your cunt before you finally separated.

The two of you dressed and headed off to your room, promising each other you’d definitely meet up again. Gallagher watched you from the elevator and apologized with a laugh as you stumbled off to your door. You made your way inside and were instantly met with the smiling faces of Himeko and March. The three of you exchanged glances in complete silence before you cleared your throat. “Guess I didn’t need Bonajade’s help after all.” you said and threw your arms up in the air in defense. March put a hand on her hip, “Oh yeah? So Mr. Gallagher ‘fixed’ you did he?” she asked with a laugh and watched you walk awkwardly to the bed. “Fixed one thing and broke another it seems.” Himeko said and covered her mouth as she tried to hold back a laugh. “Haha very funny!” you said in response and grabbed one of the nearby pillows to loudly scream into.

The three of you would spend another day on Penacony, extending the invite to the others on the express who gladly joined. You all enjoyed a free drink at Siobhans bar, danced and chatted the whole night. And thanks to the alcohol, you even exchanged a few words with Caelus of all people. March and Dan Heng laughed happily as they sat at the bar trying each other’s drinks. Welt and Himeko danced to a slow song together, their hands on one another as they swayed peacefully. Your mouth moved as you spoke to your ex, but only aeons knew what the hell the two of you were even talking about. You sighed and rolled your eyes at whatever the boring man next to you was saying as the man you had been waiting for finally entered the room. He greeted everyone who hadn’t seen him since his disappearance, reassuring them that he was just fine. Your heart skipped a beat when he finally turned to you, his stride almost cocky as he shot a glare at Caelus. “Sorry to keep you waiting sweetheart, let’s go.” his voice was calm and gentle as he reached a hand out to you, holding you as you leapt off of the bar stool. The two of you walked by March and you made sure to raise your voice loudly when you said to her, “Don’t wait up!”

A/N: don’t even get me started cause we’ll be here all day 😮‍💨 im so obsessed with his big hairy old man ass UGH he’s never leaving my team idc if he’s a four star HES MINE!!!

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail smut #hsr gallagher #gallagher x reader #gallagher smut #hsr smut #the stars aint the only thing thats getting railed HEHE

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emeryhiro · 3 days

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What are your thoughts about the whole bethyl thing? I personally saw it more as Daryl finding hope and light when he was in a place of deep despair - she showed him that there's still good to be seen in the world. And so it was a major loss to him personally when she died. Plus she helped him process part of his past trauma.

But I've seen Norman Reedus and Greg Nicotero say that while romance wasn't scripted, there was a taste of it in the air when it came to acting choices. I hate that idea bc she was a teenager and it makes me feel less good about Daryl. I guess I'd hope that if he started catching some feelings "he didn't understand" (as NR puts it), then he would see that they're too far apart in other ways for it to go beyond a father/daughter big brother/little sister sort of bond. What do you think?

Hey Anon!

Thank you for your questions 😊 I'm sorry it took me some time to respond. I just wanted to be careful with what I say and how I explain my opinion since the last thing I want to do is disregard or disrespect anyone else's opinions on the topic.

I agree with you. I always saw that the reason Daryl grew to care so much for Beth was because she gave him hope and didn't allow him to shut off from the world after he thought he'd lost everything and everyone that mattered to him. This ultimately made him feel like he owed her because she saved him, maybe not in the literal sense, but definitely mentally. Her persistence ultimately leads him to finding everyone again.

Only hours before having to be on the run with Beth, Rick had told Daryl about how he'd sent Carol away for killing Karen and David, and we saw how defeated that made Daryl feel. Realising that Carol had to shoulder that responsibility on her own and that he wasn't able to be there to stand up for her put him in a really bad place mentally.

This guilt was then compounded by the governor returning to the prison and killing Hershel infront of everyone, and the guilt that Daryl felt for giving up his search for Governor, which in his mind was the reason Hershel died and they lost the prison.

So all these things combined meant that Daryl felt responsible for EVERYTHING that had just happened TO EVERYONE. And no one was there to help him sholder that pain and responsibility.

Ultimetly his instincts kick in, all the walls that he'd slowly been breaking down come right back up, and he starts to go cold again just to numb himself from everything he's feeling.

And this is where Beth came in. Firstly, her innocence and optimism was the only thing stopping Daryl from completely shutting off from the world. She kept reminding him that the other's could have made it and that if they got out then odds are others must have as well. And secondly, she kept him busy, she was something that needed his protection and that gave him porpose and a reason to keep going.

After Beth gets taken, Daryl ends up with The Claimers, who he thinks are exactly the type of people he deserves to be around, because (in his mind) he can't seem to be capable of keeping and protecting anything good that comes his away, but by some miracle he's reunited with Rick, Carl and Michonne again, and this is where he realises that Beth was right, and if Rick and co have made it then it probably means others have as well.

I think this moment above was the beginning of Daryl starting to believe that he has value again. Rick's words begin to soften him again, but even after reuniting with almost everyone again, we don't actually see Daryl's guard come down until this moment below.

Every single shield/wall he'd been putting up until now is instantly shattered. He's completely exposed in this moment. His mind and body take a few seconds to register what his eyes are seeing and what his heart is feeling, and he's instantly running to Carol and into her arms without any other thought. This is the moment we can get a true reading of his feelings.

Regarding how he felt for Beth...

Yes, I think there may have been some confusion from Daryl's side about what he was feeling for Beth, just like how Norman has described it previously; he cared for Beth, she was nice to him, and that was so rare in his life that he misread the whole situation and couldn't interpret what he was actually feeling. In my opinion, there was no romantic feeling or intent on either side; they were both just navigating a new form of friendship that they'd never experienced before. And if I had to, I'd compare his relationship with Beth to his relationship with Lydia. To put it very simply, he felt responsible for protecting these young girls who, at the time, had no one else on their side, and ultimately, both girls saved him in return and looked up to him as a role model.

~~~~

Thanks again for the questions 🩵 I really hope I did this justice because my main goal is to keep my blog a positive place for everyone.

I know there are many varying opinions on this topic, but I'm glad I got the chance to share mine, and I just wanted to once again say that this is my opinion and not meant to invalidate anyone else's 🩵

#daryl dixon #beth greene #rick grimes #carol peletier #caryl #the walking dead #twd #my gifs

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theyhavetakenovermylife · 3 days

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A New World: part 5

Bayverse!Leonardo x reader

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

A/N: It has been some time, so I decided it was more than perfectly fine to post another part to this story. Here ya goooo

Leo is 25, reader is 22 - 23.

Warnings: None so far💙

“Okay”, (Y/N) said while playing with the pen in her hand, in a way Leo only had seen Donnie do it. “How did the other ninja turtles manage to travel through dimension?” The next day (Y/N) had decided to sit down and brainstorm ideas on how to get Leo home. At first Leo wanted to tell her that she was stupid for thinking that they even could do anything, but decided that maybe it would be a good idea to listen to the girl, who had mentioned his bonsai tree and childhood fear of heights, without him ever telling her about it.

“I don’t know, you tell me. I don’t even fully know how Krang did it, but surely I know how I did it in another universe”, Leo said, a little tired with a hint of sarcasm in his voice. It suddenly made sense to (Y/N) why Leo was the way that he was in Rise. Speaking of Leonardo from Rise…

“Well, there is this one version of you that jumps through portals as often as he changes his underwear”. That comment made Leo stare at her, wondering if she truly was mentally stable. “Probably the best place to start. Leo, swing one of your katanas and see if you can make a portal”.

Leo stared at her in bewilderment. “What?”

“You heard me”, (Y/N) said.

“You seriously believe that is going to work?”, Leo asked, raising his brow muscles at her, hoping that she would tell him it was a joke. But of course she didn’t.

“Well, you’re still in my house, and apparently not just a figment of my imagination, so yeah, at this point I would believe that pretty much anything is possible”.

Leo sighed, annoyed over the fact that she once again had a point. He stood up and signaled for (Y/N) to stand back. She quickly did as he took out his katana, noticing the way (Y/N) was staring at him, almost starstruck.

“What?”, he asked.

“Oh nothing”, she said, slightly embarrassed. “Just kind of always wanted to see you do that, sorry. Now continue, don’t mind me”.

This girl. If Leo didn’t manage to get home to his own dimension, this girl would be the death of him.

Leo held the katana in front of him with both hands, feeling the eyes (Y/N) on him. He had no idea how to do it, and he had no idea if it would work. But he went for it, and did a quick circle in the air, hoping for a light of sorts. But nothing. Nothing happened. No lights, no portal, no nothing.

“Well, that didn’t work”, (Y/N) said.

“Nooo waayyy”, Leo said dragging out the words. “I thought there was a portal right there in front of me!” (Y/N) said nothing but just raised a brow at him. “Sorry”, Leo quickly said, putting his katana away. “I tend to get a little stingy when I’m stressed, even-”.

“Sarcastic? Yes, I know. Remember, I’ve seen every version of you in action”, she said, pointing to the movies, still out on the sofa table.

“Oh, yeah, right, I forgot…” Leo felt his face get a little hot. “So, how else have they been able to travel through dimensions?” Leo could just not bring himself to call them “me and my brother”. They were NOT him, and therefore NOT his brothers. His brothers was where he left them, back in his own dimension.

“Well, most of them involve Krang or Shredder, but for obvious reasons we can’t do those”. (Y/N) was thinking, almost so hard that Leo could hear the gears turning in her brain. “There was that one time - no that was Shredder… Or maybe! - no, Krang did that… WHat about! - no, that was time travel and that was Renet… There was also the time April’s uncle got stuck in another universe… but that was Donnie that got them out of there”. Leo sunk back down on the sofa, listening to (Y/N) thinking out loud. None of what she said rang any bells, and at one point he stopped listening, until suddenly…

“The battle nexus!”

“The battle what now?”

(Y/N) just kind of slumped at that, before breathing out something along the lines of; “this is going to be harder than I thought”.

(Y/N) sat down on the small space left for her on the sofa, and started to go on google on her Macbook. As Leo tried to look along over her shoulder, she tilted the laptop away from him. She didn’t need him to know how many TMNT related videos she had been looking at.

“Do you mind?”, she said.

“Oh… sorry”, Leo said, leaning away again, yet he couldn’t shake the suspicious feeling he got from (Y/N)’s actions. She was hiding something. She was friendly, even though Leo found her slightly annoying at times, but she had not yet given him reason to suspect her of any bad intentions. That was the first time he thought she might be up to something.

“Here you go”, she finally said, turning her screen back towards him. Leo was shocked to be met by a video of a cartoon version of him and his brother’s following master Splinter down an alleyway. Yet the first thing he noticed, that he just couldn’t stop himself from saying…

“Why are we naked in that?!” Leo almost jumped on the sofa, shocked and embarrassed, by the actions of he did not commit himself, but another version of him in a different dimension. “Where are their pants?!”

“Believe it or not, the fact that you’re wearing pants is not that common for the TMNT universe”, (Y/N) said, slightly surprised by his reaction. “Now shut up and watch”.

Master Splinter drew a sigal on the wall, before mumbeling a bunch of words unknown to Leonardo. With that he disappeared through the wall of the alleyway. These versions of Leonardo and his brothers did the same thing, following their father into the battle nexus.

“You want me to try that?”, Leo asked.

“Yeah, and if that doesn’t work, I don’t know what else would”.

“Sounds very uplifting”.

And with that, Leo and (Y/N) sat out to create the portal to the battle nexus. They moved the sofa out of the way, and removed a few of the frames on the wall, so they had space to draw the sigal. Following what was shown in the video, they drew the sigal, and reluctantly, Leo started chanting, the way the other version of him did. And once again, nothing. Leo covered his face with his hands, sighing irritated. (Y/N) asked him to try again, so he did, and still nothing.

Now it was (Y/N)’s time to sigh irritated. She dropped down on the moved sofa and started rubbing the temples of her head.

“This is going to be harder than I thought”.

Leo wanted to be sarcastic, and say something along the lines of; “oh, you think so? Really? Not like I didn’t tell you so”, but he decided against it. (Y/N) was only trying to help him as much as she could, even if her means was limited. And it was obviously starting to frustrate her. Annoying or not, she only tried to help Leonardo.

“Maybe we should take a break and try again later”, Leo said before standing up, towering high above (Y/N) in her seat. It never ceased to amaze her, how tall he actually was. “Food and meditation helps the brain”.

“See that sounds a lot like something you would say”, (Y/N) laughed before standing up herself. “How does Chinese takeout sound to you?”

Okay, maybe she wasn’t that annoying after all. But Leo still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. And if it wasn’t (Y/N), then what was it?

—

Somewhere at a location unknown to the public, deep underground, a man was hunched over an open hatch in his big machine, connecting wireless. It was quiet in his laboratory, except from the sounds of his tools working against the metals of his machine. In the observatory on the floor above, sat a human boy, casting glances at the man on the floor below, before returning to the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles comic in front of him. The exact same comic his father and his workers had taken their code names from for easy convenience. But the boy’s attention was now being taken from the comic at the sight of his father, and the boss of the man in the lap, showing up in the opening elevator behind the man in the lap. He watched as his father walked to the man, hands behind his back, talking, yet his son in the observatory couldn’t hear him through the thick glass. Though he wished he did. Yet he watched them in silence, their mouths moving.

“I hope my son didn’t cause too much trouble”, the boy’s father said in his calm tone, causing the poor scientist to jump in surprise.

“N- no, n- not at all Sir”, the doctor said, casting a quick glance at the circular machine behind him. “Nothing that can’t be fixed”.

The boy’s father took a step closer to the machine, taking it all in with his eyes hidden behind glasses. He then turned back towards the scientist, still with an unreadable facial expression, that caused people to fear him.

“Tell me, Dr. Lilja, how long until the machine is finished?”

The doctor started to fidget with his white sleeves, his fingers digging at the fabric. It had become a bad habit of his.

“It is hard to tell”, started the doctor, keeping his eyes away from the stern man in front of him, instead looking at the big machine by their side. “There’s no doubt that your son didn’t do anything on purpose, but it has given us a bigger setback than I first thought it did. It doesn’t mean that it can’t be fixed, but at this moment, I do not know when that will be. It could take as little as hours, days, but could also take as long as weeks, months… maybe even years”.

Lilja didn’t have to look at the boy’s father to know his facial expression. Anger. Irritation. Rage. Even though the young boy couldn’t hear the words of the two men in the laboratory, he knew the face of his father, and he knew that that face meant trouble. Big trouble. The same face he got after he accidentally broke the machine Dr. Lilja had been working on for months. And how did he break Dr. Lilja’s machine, you may ask? He played with his Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle Leonardo action figure on the machine buttons, while his father and Dr. Lijla was talking in the observatory. After that, he was no longer allowed in the laboratory, but only in the observatory, where he could play with his action figures and read his comics… Yeah, not his proudest moment…

The boy’s father grabbed Dr. Lilja by the neck of his shirt and stared him straight into his scared eyes. The boy gasped, putting the comic up in front of his face, only letting his eyes peek over the edge, watching the interaction play out in front of him. Lilja feared those eyes more than anything. He remembered clearly what happened to Dr. Stockman, last time he caused so much anger.

“You fix that machine in the time I told you to!” He didn’t even have to come up with a threat. Lilja knew what the punishment for not listening to him was.

“Yes! Yes! Of course Agent Bishop!”

It was at moments like this, where it once again made sense to Dr. Lilja, why Agent Bishop had chosen that code name.

#tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt leonardo #tmnt leo #tmnt bayverse #tmnt bayverse x reader #tmnt leo x reader #tmnt leonardo x reader #bayverse leo #bayverse leonardo #tmnt bayverse leo #tmnt bayverse leo x reader #tmnt bayverse leonardo #tmnt bayverse leonardo x reader #tmnt x reader

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avengerscompound · 2 days

Text

The Tower - Nyotaimori

The Tower One Shot

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Avengers x OFC, Bruce Banner x Bucky Barnes x Clint Barton x Wanda Maximoff x Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff x Tony Stark x Thor x Sam Wilson x OFC (Elly Cooper)

Word Count: 2253

Warnings: smut (nyotaimori, bisexual orgy, oral sex, vaginal fingering)

Synopsis: During the twins' first day of school, the Sex-Vengers decide to do something they can't do with the kids around, and Elly agrees to be the table while they eat sushi.

Author’s Note: Requested by mary_2824 on Wattpad. You can send in your requests too

Nyotaimori

Takes place during The Tower: Family immediately after chapter 16: Reminiscing.

I stepped out of the shower, aching in a pleasant post-sex way. I’d just been put through my paces. Today was the twins' first day of school and when we’d gotten home, we’d gone to the home cinema and fucked while we watched old videos of our past exploits. I’d ended up with Tony, Thor, Bruce, and Clint all inside me at the same time, so I was feeling particularly fucked out.

I wasn’t done though. Natasha had the idea that we have Nyotaimori for lunch and that I would act as the plate.

I was a little nervous about it. Not because I was feeling insecure or anything like that. It sounded sexy and I knew my husbands and wives all found me completely irresistible. I didn’t doubt that they’d be turned on by me lying there while they ate sushi off my naked body. After the wedding ceremony on Asgard, I didn’t even have any sign of scarring from my cesarean to feel self-conscious about.

I just knew what it was like having to lie completely still for a long time, and I worried that if I got bored it might spoil the experience.

I did want to try it though, and I knew I was safe with all of them. If I was going to try it, I might as well do it properly. I dried and fixed my hair, put on some makeup, and grabbed a black and silver filigree masquerade mask and a pair of black kitten heels from the walk-in.

Natasha came into the bedroom while I was slipping on a robe. “Lunch is here. Are you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” I said.

She laughed and took my hand. “You can always say no, you know?”

“Of course, I do,” I said. “But you look pretty when you do the puppy dog eyes.”

She laughed and nudged me. “You’re one of two people I’d let get away with even hinting that I would ever do puppy dog eyes.”

“Speaking of puppy dogs…” I said.

She laughed. “Don’t worry. The dog walker came to take them out for a few hours. You’re not gonna get any random dogs running in and trying to eat sushi off you.”

We went down to the dining area, the rest of the group was over in the living area and could see what was going on, but Natasha called out to them not to look so it would be a surprise. I felt a little bad for Natasha that she didn’t get the surprise too. Especially given that this was her idea. I figured that the reason why it was her was just that she knew what needed to be done.

She’d already laid a cloth over the table with one of our nicer towels on top of that and a pillow. I took off my robe, climbed up on the table, and lay down. As I slipped the mask on, Natasha brought the bags of sushi over.

“Okay,” she said. “Get as comfortable as you can. Hands at your sides.”

I lay down as she instructed and Natasha started to lay out the sushi. She started by placing long green leaves over various parts of my body, down my stomach, over my groin, down my arms and legs, and two small leaves to cover each nipple. She artfully placed each one down and placed orchid blossoms around some of them. “Where did you even get those from?”

“Honey, you haven’t figured out that money can pretty much get you anything delivered in an hour?” she teased. “FRIDAY contacted a place that does these kinds of parties and negotiated a price for them to be delivered as soon as they could.”

I laughed and shook my head. “I guess I’ll never get used to that.”

When the plants were in place, Natasha began setting up the sushi. There were a lot of us, and with Bruce, Steve, Thor, and Bucky, a lot of food was needed, so there was far more sushi than could ever fit on me. Natasha wasn’t concerned. She placed the sushi in patterns so it worked, putting as much on me that fit without looking cluttered. She then set the rest out around me in piles on plates along with the dipping sauces and accoutrements.

“Okay, she’s ready,” Natasha said, getting up on a chair so she could take a photo of me.

The rest of the group all made their way into the room. “Damn,” Sam said. “You look so hot, princess.”

Clint whistled. “And how. God damn.”

They all took seats around the table. Tony was the first one to take the leap and take a piece of sushi. He picked up his chopsticks and took a piece from my stomach. “Mm… presentation does affect the taste,” he said. “This is good.”

Steve had taken a seat closer to my head. “How are you doing there, sweetheart?” he asked. “Are you comfortable?”

“Mm-hmm,” I hummed. “I’m all good. Thank you, honey.”

“You tell me if that changes,” he said and picked up a piece of sushi from my shoulder with his chopsticks.

“I wonder how the kids are going?” Wanda said.

“I am sure they’re having a wonderful time,” Thor said. “Riley will be entertaining all her new friends with her powers!”

“Oh god, I hope not,” Sam said. “It was hard enough for us to convince them she would be safe to go.”

“I’m sure if anything had happened, they’d have called,” Natasha said.

“I hope so,” Bucky agreed. “I hope they’re settling in okay. But if they’re having trouble, I hope the school calls. I don’t want things to get out of control because we never find out about it.”

“I’m sure it will be fine, Buck,” Steve said. “They know things are a little different for them.”

“Can you check, El?” Clint asked.

I looked down at the threads that connected me to my family and I wound my fingers around the sky-blue thread that joined me to Riley and the grass-green thread that connected to Pietro. I closed my eyes and focused on them. Warmth and joy traveled down into me from the children and a soft smile settled on my lips. “They’re having fun. It’s lunchtime there too. They’re outside playing.”

“See, it’s all good,” Clint said. “Now let’s stop worrying about them, and enjoy this feast in front of us.” He ran the end of his chopstick up my side and I squealed and flinched away from him.

“Stop it, Clint!” I said.

“Don’t mess with her, Clint,” Steve said, his disappointed-dad tone in full effect. “This has to be hard enough to do as it is.”

“Yeah, Clint,” I pouted. “No one has even offered to feed me any yet.”

“I’m sorry princess,” Clint said. “What do you want? One of these tempura thingies?”

“Yes, please.”

He picked up a shrimp tempura nigiri with his chopsticks and held it to my mouth and I awkwardly took a bite. We both started laughing when the Nigiri broke apart at my bite and showed rice on my face.

“Well that didn’t work,” Clint said, eating the other half of the piece.

I shook my head laughing, trying to shake the sticky rice off my skin. Steve reached over and brushed the rice from my face. I swallowed what was in my mouth and wrinkled my nose. “On second thought, I might just wait to eat when the rest of you are done.”

“Are you sure, El? You really don’t have to do this,” Steve said.

“I’m sure. I like being the center of attention,” I assured him.

“I’ll set some aside for you,” Steve said and began to fill a plate with sushi that I could eat.

There was a small lull in conversation as everyone focused on eating for a moment. There was getting to be less food on me, though the two pieces covering my nipples were still in place along with a scattering of others over my body.

“Do we think these babies will have powers?” Bruce asked, breaking the silence.

He sounded worried. I knew he was. The potential for powers was a big part of that. His struggles with the Hulk had been so hard on him and so volatile that the idea of powers being good, even now that his two aspects had been merged, was difficult for him to understand.

“You have all been absorbed into the Asgardian Pantheon. You are gods, minor deities granted, but still gods. Our children will all be gods as well,” Thor said. “So they will each have their own gifts.”

“Will they be like ours?” Clint asked. “I mean, Riley has weather-related powers like you. Will Natasha’s baby have some kind of camouflage power or animal-related power?”

Thor shook his head. “It is difficult to say. Stories shape our magic. Powers can be revealed at opportune moments, be passed on from parent to child, and be passed from one to another to complete a quest. My powers can be shared through Mjolnir for example. The powers our children are blessed with will fit their story.”

“That sounds like such horse shit,” Tony scoffed. “Just say you don’t know.”

“Tony,” Steve scolded.

Tony huffed. “Fine.” He paused for a moment then mumbled, “Sorry, Thor.”

“You do not have to believe, Anthony,” Thor said. “The magic exists whether you believe in it or not.”

I knew how hard it was for Tony to bite his tongue after that. It was pretty funny how absolutely dedicated to his atheism he was after everything we've been through. He always said just because he was old and did things we didn’t understand, didn’t make him a god.

Tony huffed. “Fine,” he said. “I’m gonna eat one of these nip pieces.”

He snatched one of the maki rolls from my breast and put it in his mouth. The leaf remained in place, so as he chewed, he reached over and flicked it away. My nipple had pebbled under the cool leaf, and Tony ran his thumb around it and began to massage my breast.

I let out a soft moan and Tony smirked at me, swallowing his sushi. “You like that do you, honey?”

“Uh-huh,” I hummed.

Tony leaned over the table and began to suck on my breast. I moaned louder and my toes curled. “Fuck, Tony.”

I had no idea what Tony’s plans were here. We’d just had some crazy sex. I thought it would be at least an hour or two before anyone was ready for more. He was more than happy to just tease me though. It made it very hard to lay still, and I squirmed as he suckled on my breast.

Steve ate the other piece that had been on my breast and as soon as he’d picked it up, Clint was leaning over the table and latching onto my nipple.

I cried out and my legs trembled as I tried not to buck my hips and send food flying everywhere. My eyes squeezed closed as I tried to focus, but it was becoming increasingly difficult. I was already soaking wet.

There was movement around my legs, plates being moved out of the way, and then two hands gripped my ankles, one cool metal and the other warm flesh.

Bucky dragged me down to the end of the table. I squealed and broke into giggles. What remaining sushi that was still on me was sent scattering, some still sticking to my skin, the rest rolling off onto the table. My giggles were cut short as Bucky lunged in and began eating me out. He didn’t hold back, his tongue lapped all around my folds and he plunged two fingers inside me. Given how recently I’d had pretty full-on sex, I was already overworked and over-sensitive, and I arched up hard and cried out.

No one else seemed particularly interested in doing anything other than watch or help bring me over - and that was not going to take long.

Bucky suckled on my clit and thrust his fingers in and out at a frantic rate. His fingers hit my g-spot again and again. I was sent reeling, unable to focus on anything but the pleasure surging through me. It was added to by Tony and Clint sucking and massaging my breasts, and the other touching and kissing me.

It was too much. I couldn’t hold on and my orgasm crashed down on me hard. I cried out, bucking up and arching violently off the table as I gushed on Bucky. Lights popped in my eyes and for a moment, I was aware of nothing except that intense endorphin rush.

I flopped back down, breathing heavily and Bucky pulled back. “God damn,” he said.

I moaned, breathing heavily, and waved my hand back and forth.

“You okay there, Mishka?” Natasha asked.

“Uh-huh,” I said. “No one else gonna come?”

“That was for you,” Bucky said.

“Thank you,” I said in a slight sing-song voice.

Steve came and helped me up, and Bruce helped with my robe. “Do you want to eat now?” Wanda asked.

“Yes, please,” I said.

“You do that, and we’ll clean up,” Steve said.

“And when you’re done, you can get dressed and we’ll go get the kids,” Sam said.

I beamed at him. I thought today would be stressful and full of worry, but instead, thanks to my unique family, it had been completely amazing.

~ END ~

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