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#something's wrong with my legs. when i go like this and then i go like that i end up at the liquor store (challengers screening)
inkedells · 1 day
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cowboy!logan teasing his girl when he figures out she likes him sweaty and messy from work...
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[god him in this gif has me scratching the walls]
pairing: cowboy!logan x f!reader
wc: 587
Cowboy!Logan coming home to you after a long day of herding cattle.
His face is shining with sweat, his scent deliciously musky. Not far off from how he looks when he’s just orgasmed, you think, despite your best efforts not to let your mind go there. Dark denim stained with mud at the hem, his boots in a similar state. Plaid button-up tucked into a fat belt, the sleeves rolled up his thick, veiny forearms.
Yeah, you’re gonna make sure he fucks you. As soon as possible.
“Missed you, baby,” He says with the softest barely-there smile. He slides off his dirty boots by the entryway, mumbling an apology for the mess he’s causing. “And I’ll clean that up soon as I’m outta the shower.” It’s said with a grin and raised hands, as if he’s expecting you to scold him.
But you’re too busy staring at his arms.
“Something wrong?” He asks, his smile falling as he walks toward you.
“Don’t shower,” You say simply, quietly. You meet his eyes and watch his confusion transform into understanding—No, smug understanding. There’s a lump in your throat now, but you swallow it down quickly and stand up straighter. “Why haven’t you kissed me yet?”
He’s smirking, even as he speaks. “‘Cause I’m dirty. And I stink. Don’t wanna ruin that pretty dress.” He looks down at you, taking in the sight of your body in the thin, sheer fabric. Of course, you go red in the face at his words and his scrutinizing eye, and of course, he takes it as his cue to crowd you until you’re backed up against the kitchen counter.
“But…” He starts, placing a calloused hand flat on the expanse of skin just above the swell of your breast. “You,” He pushes his fingers under your strap, “Don’t,” slides it off your shoulder, “Care.” He rushes to give your bare breast a long, firm squeeze, and you can’t help the soft moan that escapes you when he does. But then he pauses his actions to whisper teasingly, "Do you?"
You shake your head immediately, and he starts back up again. He plays with you, slow and methodical and loving, yet perfectly aggressive. Like a man. 
While you watch his hand, hypnotized, Logan is intently observing your face and subconsciously mimicking your expressions. When your eyebrows knit, so do his. When your mouth falls open, so does his. And when you’ve only just begun to lean in for a kiss, he’s leaning in the rest of the way, capturing your mouth with searing hunger as he moves his lips against you expertly.
He’ll carry you into your shared bedroom eventually. Make sweet love to you until the clouds shielding the moon settle into a low fog in preparation for the morning dew. Until you’re just as sweaty as he is, until the only words coming out of your mouth are "I love you," and, "Don’t stop," and, "Faster."
And it’s that last command which consumes him as he kneels between your legs right here, right now, stroking you over your underwear while he fantasizes about fingering you open. He'll take his time with it, do it properly, so he can fuck you as deep and hard as he wants to much later—after your greedy pussy is inevitably tired of the decorum involved with simply making love for hours. You’ll want to fuck, dirty and messy and rough, and he’ll wonder how such a sweet girl could get so drunk on cock. He would bother spitting the question at you between sharp, relentless thrusts, if he didn't already know the answer. Only for you, Logan.
a/n: my requests are open! gimme all ur ideas <3 also reblog to support ur fav authors!
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toruily1 · 2 days
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jerking megumi off.
0.8k
MDNI
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standing behind megumi, completely bare from the tips of your toes up to your flushed red neck, letting him guide your hand up and down his cock, teaching you how to please him the way he likes.
he's equally as red, his whole body burning up from embarrassment at the thought of someone seeing him in such a state. if it was anyone else, he wouldn't have even entertained the idea.
but its you, and he'd do anything for you.
so when you came to him with wide eyes and a shaky voice, asking him if he’d teach you to get him off he couldn’t help but say yes, his cock stirring in his pants at the thought of your hand on him, squeezing and—
“a little tighter” he mumbles squeezing your hand. “you’re not gonna hurt me”
you stand on your tippy toes, looking over his shoulder as you tighten the grip you have on him, moving your hand up and down his length.
from this angle you can see everything. from his abs down to his V line and the thatch of black hair that leads towards his heavy cock, sitting firmly in the palm of your hand.
“w-what else?” you question, and the corners of megumi's lips tug up into a small grin at how you sound even more
you chose to ignore the amusement you hear in his tone when he replies, “use your thumb and play with the tip— it’s sensitive”
you can see his fat purplish tip and the string of his sticky white pre that drips from the tip.
at that, your thumb comes up and begins rubbing at the head, smearing the sticky pre down the length of his shaft. megumi sucks in a breath and for a second you think you’ve done something wrong— hurt him somehow and you’re about to let go, but when your eyes flick up towards his face you realize it’s anything but.
you can tell he's into it now, his eyes are hooded, lips parted slightly as moans out for you.
“yeah baby fuckkk— just like that,” he groans, letting his head fall back to lean on your shoulder, his eyes fluttering shut as he lets you take the reins. the hand on top of yours falls to his side, as you pick up the pace, hand squeezing him just a little tighter.
your thumb moves away from his tip, wanting to take your time, knowing that wasn’t something you could do if he came too fast and from how loud he was getting it was clear he was getting close. he lets out a shudder as the intense pleasure begins to fade slightly, breathing slowing down.
it doesn’t take you long to find a steady pace, hand jerking up and down, every so often applying pressure to his tip that leaves him groaning as bursts of pleasure shoots through him.
he’s practicing leaking pre, leaving your hand sticky with his arousal, making the glide of your hand easier.
after megumi gets his breathing back to normal he takes your hand in his once again.
“I like to have my balls played with.”
his hand guides your further down to his sac and you instantly take it into your hand, squeezing and toying with each of his heavy balls.
megumi moans, his body tensing as he attempts to hold himself back, not wanting to cum too soon. It was a futile attempt, especially with you standing so close to him, your scent radiating off of you and clouding his senses.
the feeling of your body pressed against his, your hard nipples rubbing against his back as you squeeze your legs together, desperately searching for friction to your aching clit as you watch megumi get closer and closer to the edge.
the sounds he's making going straight to your core.
megumi reaches behind him, pushing your legs apart just enough to allow his hand to slip through, calloused fingers instantly finding your sticky clit.
“mmm megu'—” you whine, legs bucking beneath you as he rubs your clit. you don’t even realize your hand has stopped moving, simply holding him in your hand.
“keep goin” he commands, bucking up into your hand and you instantly start to stroke his length once again, going back up to focus on the tip.
“m’close” he murmurs quietly, you feel his dick twitch in your hand. the hand playing with his balls squeeze just a bit tighter, not enough to hurt but enough to have him letting out a long groan, deep and broken when it’s paired with a squeeze to his tip.
“shitttt” that’s all the warning you get before megumi is going rigid against you as thick spurts of cum shoot from his tip, landing on the floor in front of him. your hand continues to stroke him through his orgasm, moving up and down slowly until his hand wraps itself around your wrist, stopping your movements.
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luveline · 9 hours
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hihihihi! 🥹💕 i want to let you know that i adore your hotch fics! and i wanted to ask if you’d be ok—but no pressure!!!— to write one with bombshell!reader waking up from anesthesia and forgetting hotch and her are already together and starts flirting with him the way bombshell!reader absolutely would lol? thank you!
thanks for requesting lovely! fem, 1k
You don’t remember waking up, but you’re sitting against a pillow with a yoghurt in your hand. You must’ve been on some sort of auto-pilot… Are you in a hospital gown?
You put your yoghurt down on the table that’s been wheeled over your lap and stare at the white-blue chequered gown creased between your thighs. Your head feels heavy. 
“You okay?” 
You drag your gaze to the source of the voice. 
Agent Hotchner sits in the chair next to your bed. He has one leg crossed over the other, but he notices your confusion and his nonchalance turns to concern. “You need help?” 
“With the yoghurt?” you ask. 
“Yeah, honey. I can help.” 
You roll that over in your mind. Stern Agent Hotchner just called you honey. 
You’ve been trying to convince him for a while that you’re someone worth being sweet to. Trying to sway him, because there are parts of him you can’t get out of your head when he’s not around. He has not yet been swayed. Honey is a hand held out you’re going to snatch. 
Hotch stands. He goes to pick up your yoghurt. 
“What, are you gonna spoon feed me?” you ask, a clumsy drawl to your voice.
“I was going to… but I don’t like your tone.” 
Is he flirting back? You must’ve hit your head. “Coward,” you murmur. Speaking of hitting your head, there’s a throbbing behind your eyes, and a dryness to your throat bordering on uncomfortable. The yoghurt was there for a reason, clearly, but you don’t have the energy in you to eat seductively. 
“My head hurts,” you say quietly. 
You close your eyes. 
“I know.” A hand touches your face. You stay very still, though your heart doesn’t. “You don’t feel too hot. Do you want a drink? I can get you anything.” 
“Your hand is so big…” 
“Not so much bigger than your own,” he says. 
“Prove it.” 
He says your name like he knows you well, which sets your racing heart off all over again. But, used to hiding from him, you open your eyes to watch him and wipe all surprise from your face. You raise your hand, and he raises his, and you press your fingers together. Your fingertips don’t reach his, his palm wider, warmer. You thread your fingers carefully into the gaps between his, your lips curling into a satisfied smile. 
Less satisfied when he closes his hand around yours. 
“You’re teasing me,” you say. 
“Honey, I have no idea what you’re talking about. Why don’t you lay back properly?” 
“Super, super forward.” You lay back under the pressure of his hand, stricken by the feeling that he’s done something like that before. You rest your head against your elevated pillows and have to give up —you can’t hide how surprised you are at his open touching, his face so close to yours you can see every warm fleck in his dark eyes. 
“You look startled,” he murmurs. 
“I think you’ve been bodysnatched.” 
“I have?” 
“Yes.” You nod. “I can’t keep up. And I’m usually pretty great at that.” 
“At what?” 
“Flirting.” 
“Oh,” he says, taking your hand again, pulling it toward his mouth, “you think I’m flirting?” 
“Is there something wrong with me?” 
“Not beyond the usual. You’re more lucid than they suspected you’d be, actually.” He kisses your knuckles. 
“I’ve hit my head.” 
“No, honey, you were under anaesthesia. Everything’s fine.” 
“You’ve hit your head.” 
He breathes out a laugh. “I don’t remember any injuries, but I’d love to know why you think so.” 
“You’re kissing me.” 
He pauses, lowering your hand. “Yes?” he says cautiously. 
“Would you want to do it again?” 
Hotch puts your hand on your chest. He cups your cheek in one hand, takes your shoulder into the other, and leans down to see you eye to eye. “Are you feeling okay?” he asks. You can feel the love he has for you in each word. 
Weirdly, you can feel it in yourself, too. Like, more than a crush. More than wanting him to spin you around or play with your thigh under a desk. You really love him. 
“I think I forgot you,” you say softly. 
“Amnesia is a very common symptom of anaesthesia, don’t worry.” He pulls your face up to peck you, quick but not without a gentleness that has your hands thrumming with pins and needle. “I thought you were acting strange, but I put it down to discomfort. Sorry, I imagine it’s very disconcerting to feel you don’t know me.” 
He just kissed you. “No, I know you, I just… I think I love you, but you don’t usually want me back.” 
He rubs your cheek with his thumb. “I’ve always wanted you,” he says, his dulcet tenor another comfort entirely. “And I love you, whether you remember it or not. Should we try to finish your yoghurt?” 
“You really love me?” 
He turns your face to press a kiss into your eyebrow. “You don’t remember?” 
“I do–” You begin before thinking about it, and realise that you’re telling the truth. You remember that he loves you. Agent Hotchner loves you. He’s in your hospital room handling you like thin glass.  
“Well, is there much else to remember?” 
You practically smirk at him. “I can think of some things.” 
“Wow!” He leans down for another kiss. “You’re awful,” he murmurs, his smile soft on your lips. 
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Text
Saving Batboy
First | Previous | Next
It was as though he was being led through the city. Dick seemed to know exactly where he should go next as he drove.
Dick turned off his location as he closed in on Joker's location. If anyone had doubts about what would happen tonight they knew now. The clown dies tonight.
Batman never did it because he knew there would be no coming back once he crossed that line but he was not Batman.
Tim knew the moment Nightwing's symbol disappeared that he had found Joker's location. He knew he could track him still based on where he was before but he held off. The last time Dick crossed the line and killed the Joker, Tim was there to stop him. In the time since Tim had grown to regret it. Especially after Jason's return. He should be avenged after everything that happened.
Tim never put much thought into what happened when he was kidnapped just like Danny. Joker Jr was just a nightmare and everyone pretends it didn't happen. His past self doesn't exist to him and the gaps in his memory are better as they are.
If Dick was really going to finish this then Tim wasn't going to stop him. Bruce's code was his code alone. What of the Robins that suffer for it? What about his kids that he loves to the point of self-destruction if they die?
It was clear to Tim now. Batman isn't strong enough to kill Joker. If he can't handle it, someone else would.
Maybe Dick just cared more. Or maybe he had seen this happen too many times to sit by and let it happen again. The cost be damned.
Tim took a deep breath. He knew it was a bad move but he shut down the bat computer. No one could locate each other for the next 10 minutes. Enough time to give Dick the lead he really needs. All the comms are down and no information can be shared.
Tim looked up and saw Alfred putting down a cup of tea for him. Tim felt like a child caught doing something wrong under Alfred. But Alfred nodded wordlessly before turning to leave. He cast a forlorn glance at Jason's robin uniform before ascending the stairs.
****
"I was hoping Batman would come for the little bat. Oh sorry, I mean the boy." Joker mocked holding Danny by the back of the neck.
The teen's body was limp. His silver locks stained a rusty brown from dried blood. Blood covered his back and legs. If there had been any doubt if the wings were real there is none now.
"…" Nightwingwing said nothing. His fist clenched.
"You know I debated skinning him next. That fur of his would be a lovely shawl. It's so soft. But it looks like I won't have the time now." Joker provoked, running a hand through the boy's white neck fur.
"Get your hands off him." Nightwing demanded, his eyes locked on Danny for any signs of life.
"You know I am so curious what he was doing here. I was about to build a new trap here for fun when I stumbled upon this little guy here. Practically gift-wrapped. Did he run away from you? Just like you did from good ol'papa bat." Joker's smile widened sickeningly "This all feels so familiar, doesn't it little bird? Are you going to finish what you started?"
"I'm never letting you hurt my family again." No witty one-liners. No games. This bad joke ends today.
****
Batman had scoured the area. He memorize the last location Dick was before the system went down. He wasn't these kids' father for nothing he knew what they were doing.
When sound came back he had already made it to the abandoned factory. The comms rang back to life as the sounds of crying came through.
"Nononono…please no. Wake up. Please wake up." It was Dick's voice. "It's okay. I'm here now. So just wake up. We need to get home soon. Your favorite show will be on soon. WAKE UP! YOU CAN'T DIE!"
Batman bolted to their location and found Dick hovering over Danny trying to resuscitate him.
His son looked at him with pleading eyes.
"I can't hear his heart. He's not breathing." He let out a shaky breath. As distressed tears ran down his cheeks.
Bruce knelt next to them. Danny didn't react to the pressure on his chest. The pain should have at least caused an involuntary jerk if he wasn't too far gone.
Bruce signaled Dick to move back as he checked Danny's pulse again. Nothing. And he wasn't breathing. Bruce looked at his son. Deep down Dick probably knew.
"I'm sorry. He's gone." Bruce said simply as he took off his cloak.
Danny looked so peaceful. Like he was sleeping soundly. Bruce hated that his own suspension had been the thing that had prevented him from having a relationship with his own grandson. He felt foolish to not realize that of course Danny and Batboy were the same. It was a brilliant disguise. But he'd never get to say this to the boy.
Bruce wrapped the boy in his cloak.
"Come on. We'll fix this." He told Dick, carrying Danny for him.
The journey back to the manor was silent until.
"I'm sorry." Bruce said.
"Don't. Just Don't. He's my son. Its my fault." Dick rasped his voice scratchy from crying.
Bruce felt a bitter sting. That was exactly what he felt when he lost Jason and what happened with Tim. When Damian lost his life. These pains didn't go away.
When they arrived back in the Batcave Bruce laid Danny's body on the table. The others were notified about what happened and had already gathered.
Barbara looked like she had bawled her eyes out as she hugged Stephanie.
Damian had pressed himself close to Tim as the older brother told him that it was going to be okay.
The new hole in the wall was clearly Jason if his bloodied knuckles were any clues.
Cassandra paced the floor deep in thought. She was moments away from starting a new crusade.
Duke stared off into the distance. His anger boiling under the surface. All he could think about was the number of lives ruined by the Joker and even in death he took another.
Dick stood still as a statue. Thinking about if Danny could be brought back and even if he was his wings were gone. What if he was gone for good? Could he live like that?
Never had he understood Bruce more than in that moment.
Bruce braced himself for what would come next. He had a plan to bring Danny back at any cost.
But suddenly a sound broke through the tension.
A sneeze.
A fucking sneeze.
It came up from under the cloak.
Everyone snapped to look at the body hidden under the cloak. It shifted under the heavy black blanket groggily and yawned. Then Danny jumped up twisting to feel his back.
"What happened!!" He yelped.
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imsandra · 2 days
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A breath
Pairing: Azriel x female reader
Summary: In the silent embrace of the night, Azriel found in Y/N the comfort he never knew he needed.
Warning: Fluffy comfort, I think that's it.
Word count: 1120
Notes: I believe many creators have written similar pieces, so this may not be a new concept. Feel free to leave your comments, suggestions; everything is welcome as long as it's with the intention of teaching and with respect.
English is not my native language, so I apologize for any spelling or grammar issues.
Original story, written by me. Please do not copy or plagiarize my work.
I appreciate any comments, reblogs, and likes I receive.
Happy reading!
Master list
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The night in Velaris always had something special, but this one, in particular, felt magical. The gentle murmur of the Sidra River, the mild air filled with the scent of night-blooming flowers, and the clear sky full of stars that seemed to shine only for those willing to observe them closely.
Azriel was flying back to the House of Wind. He had had one of those long days, the kind where the exhaustion wasn’t just physical but emotional too. Azriel had spent hours training the Illyrians, dealing with disputes, and making sure everything ran smoothly in the Night Court.
Y/N had seen him enter, his posture stiff, and the shadows around him more restless than usual. Since they had begun spending more time together, she had learned to read him, to notice when he was tired or when something bothered him, even if he never said it. That night, however, something inside her told her that Azriel needed more than just company; he needed someone to care for him for once.
Without a word, Y/N followed him to the sitting room where Azriel usually sat after his missions or training, right next to the large window that offered a panoramic view of the city. He was there, staring out at the horizon, the stars reflecting in his golden eyes, but without his usual spark.
With a soft smile, Y/N entered and walked up to him. She sat beside him in silence, respecting his need for quiet. She didn’t need to ask what was wrong; she knew him well enough to know he would speak if he wanted to.
They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes before she suddenly got up and said, "I’ll be back in a moment."
Azriel watched her leave the room without asking where she was going. In his mind, the shadows kept whispering, but there was something about Y/N’s presence that calmed them slightly. She always made him feel less alone, less lost.
A little while later, Y/N returned with a cup of hot tea in her hands and a couple of blankets. Without asking, she offered him the tea and then draped one of the blankets over his legs.
"Wait, what are you doing?" Azriel asked, his tone a mix of curiosity and amusement.
Y/N shrugged, smiling. "Taking care of you. You look exhausted."
Azriel took the cup of tea, surprised by how comforting such a simple gesture could be. No one usually took care of him like that. He was always the one looking out for others, the one protecting, the one watching over his loved ones from the shadows. But with Y/N... she made him feel like someone worthy of being cared for.
Y/N sat back down beside him, wrapping herself in a blanket, and gently snuggled up against him. At first, Azriel tensed reflexively, but then he relaxed when she intertwined her fingers with his, softly caressing his scarred hand. Though he hated the scars for the horrible memories they brought him, Y/N didn’t feel the same. To her, they were part of his story.
The touch was so light, so intimate, that it surprised him how much it soothed him.
"Do you feel better?" she whispered, without looking directly at him, her focus on the nighttime view of Velaris.
Azriel gently squeezed her hand in response. "Yes... much better," he answered softly.
The peace he had been searching for all day, the calm he so longed for, he found there, in that moment, sitting next to Y/N, with her hand in his and her warmth comforting him.
"You know," Y/N continued in a low voice, "you don’t have to carry the weight of the world on your own. You can rest, lean on someone every now and then."
Azriel remained silent for a moment, his thoughts deep. Y/N’s words resonated with him in a way that few things ever did. He was so used to being the shield for everyone else, to protect and care, that he rarely allowed himself to be vulnerable, even for a moment.
"Thank you," he finally whispered, his voice full of sincerity. "For this. For... taking care of me."
Y/N lifted her head to look at him, her smile soft and understanding. "I’ll always do it, Az. Anytime you need it," she told him, a promise between them.
Azriel turned to her, his eyes meeting hers, and in that moment, something inside him broke, in the most beautiful way possible. He leaned in, pressing his forehead against Y/N’s, closing his eyes as he breathed deeply, letting her closeness envelop him completely.
They remained like that, together in the stillness, simply enjoying the peace they had found in each other. For Azriel, it was a reminder that it was okay to be vulnerable, that he didn’t always have to be strong—at least not with Y/N. And for her, it was a moment of tenderness, knowing that, although Azriel was a warrior in the shadows, in her arms he would always have a place to rest.
"Come," Y/N said softly, shifting a bit and pulling him down. "Let’s relax a little more."
Azriel let her guide him, leaning back into the cushions of the sofa as she nestled at his side, resting her head on his chest. His wings instinctively moved to wrap around them, creating a warm, protective barrier.
"I promise tomorrow will be better," Y/N whispered, her fingers gently playing with the dark strands of Azriel’s hair.
Azriel smiled for the first time all day, his hand softly caressing Y/N’s back. "With someone like you by my side, it will be."
Y/N kissed his cheek, and the spymaster blushed.
Under the blankets, under the night’s veil and the shelter of Azriel’s wings, they both found comfort in each other. A shared peace that didn’t need grand words or elaborate gestures—just a simple promise to always be there for one another.
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*divider by @cafekitsune , thank you <33.
A/N: After an angst-filled Azriel x reader it's only fair to have a fluffy one. I hope you liked it and I'm sorry it was short, let me know what you think. Kisses, love you guys.
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knoxic · 1 day
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Cycle of Greed
Azriel x reader | Lucien Vanserra x reader | p1 - p2 - p3 - p4
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Summary: Reader and Lucien arrive at Day Court and go drinking. Azriel goes through some rough shit and gives Rhys and Cassian a new trauma.
wc: 6k
warnings: Alcohol, almost death experience, mentions of sex (?)
a/n: I wrote the Lucien scenes while drunk and sleepy, the next day when I went back to write I didn't remember half of it. It was a good surprise, I caught myself blushing at my own work.
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After arriving at Day Court, Lucien took you to the inn where you'd be staying. Helion no doubt had a room ready for both of you, but Lucien didn't want to risk being stuck in his father's palace, not again. You understood his reasons, of course, the damage Beron had done to him was one Lucien would have to carry for the rest of his life.
The inn was cozy and entirely Day coded, embellished in white and gold. Your room was more of a flat, with a couple of bedrooms, a bathroom decorated with stained glass that reflected colorful lights, the kitchen was filled with white furniture, high arched windows allowed rays of sunlight to dance inside the living room, you could swear Lucien's skin seemed to glow with them.
Watching him in what was supposed to be one of his natural habitats was something special. Lucien had to learn how to fit into places that weren't ready to receive him in his true form, so he adapted. Although he still maintained some of his origins, the Autumn part of himself had mixed with Spring over the years, he kept some of the colors and habits, Day Court was only in his blood, hidden from everything and everyone, even himself for some time. While your wardrobe only contained Night Court clothes, Lucien had perfected his to fit into any court he had to visit.
Now adorned in white and gold, Lucien was breathtaking, striking male beauty only Helion radiated.
"When we get back, you should ask Feyre for a painting, it'll last longer." He didn't even lift his head to look at you. Your cheeks warmed, he caught you staring him up and down, but surely there was nothing wrong in admiring a friend right? Especially if said friend was Lucien, who deserved to be looked at with nothing but admiration and pride.
"Shut up." You rolled your eyes at him with no true irritation. Lucien barked out a laugh, throwing his head back, a smile curled on your lips at the sight.
"There's nothing wrong with looking," he turned his upper body back to face you, flashing you a smirk. "I even dare say I liked it."
"Gods, you're so full of yourself aren't you?!" you groaned, more at yourself for eyeing him like that. After over a century of pining over Azriel, admiring him, wanting only him, looking at another male felt weird.
You went back to your room, dropping on the bed and rethinking your decision to come. You didn't regret accompanying Lucien, but this close proximity suddenly felt strange, you shared an apartment with him for God's sake, why did you feel this way?
Being with Lucien never felt wrong before, but now it did. Because you were starting to see him as a male, not a friendly male, an insanely attractive male. When your body heated and a knot formed on your lower belly, you thought of Azriel. Not Lucien. Now you weren't sure who you'd think of when your hand drifted down your body, who you'd imagine between your legs when your eyes slipped close from pleasure.
Azriel had never left you unsatisfied, it always felt good to be with him, he knew what to do and you wouldn't deny that, and it was natural that you'd only find pleasure with him or yourself. But if he could want another female when he was still with you, then you wouldn't feel bad about wanting another male while being single.
"Did I make you uncomfortable?" Lucien asked quietly, you hadn't even heard the door opening. You lifted your head to peer at him, he kept his head down while leaning against the doorway. "It wasn't my intention."
"You didn't," your head dropped back, "I'm just thinking." It was true, but he just didn't need to know what you were thinking. Lucien hummed and you heard his steps coming closer, you had closed your eyes for a moment when his weight dropped on the bed, instead of laying on the space beside you, he opted for laying horizontally above you, being careful to not lay on your hair but still close enough.
"Of him?" You would've laughed at the situation if you weren't so mortified. You wondered if Lucien thought the same, if he felt attracted to other females after Elain.
"Can I ask you something?" As embarrassed as you were, knowing that he felt the same would make you feel better, and if he didn't, then you'd just pretend you never felt anything.
"I didn't know we had to ask for permission, Ace,"  he tried teasing but his voice was as tense as yours. "Of course you can." You took a moment to find the courage you needed.
"Do you– ugh," it was harder than you expected, Lucien wouldn't judge you but he'd definitely tease you for being horny, and maybe that wasn't exactly what you needed.
"Just ask it." You turned your head up slightly, he already looked down at you, seeing him look so vulnerable and open eased your worries. Lucien was your equal, no matter what, he'd stand by you and some silly lustful thoughts wouldn't push him away. Not after everything you went through together.
"Do you feel... Like, do you want–or think of other... females?" heat rose to your cheeks and ears, you averted your eyes from his but kept your head turned to the side, so you could see if he tried to hide a laugh.
"Yes." Your head snapped up, his face was as serious as you ever saw him, like it didn't bother him at all to admit it.
"Yes?!" You didn't mean to sound so shocked, you were just surprised by his lack of concern. If it didn't mean that big of a deal for him, who had a mate, then it wouldn't be for you either. "Like in a–"
"Sexual way? Yes, I think of another female." His eyes drifted away before he turned to look up, "It's easy not to think of Elain. She's my mate, and yet... I don't even feel attracted to her anymore." His mouth opened and closed, a sigh escaping him before he looked at you, his eyes pleading for something you couldn't place, "Would you think badly of me if I said she meant nothing?" You wouldn't, couldn't ever think badly of him. Elain never gave him a chance, he was completely allowed to do and think whatever he wanted now. At least he had tried.
"No," your hands twitched with the need to touch him, comfort him, "I understand." The relief in his eyes was clear, he needed reassurance.
Only a beat of a moment passed before you could stand being so far. Slowly you pushed yourself up, wiggling your head against his arm hoping he would understand what you wanted, fortunately he did, with an amused scoff Lucien lifted his arm, allowing you to push yourself higher and drop your head into his stomach. His arm dropped beside your body, his fingers brushed your own arm a couple times before he deemed it okay to rest his hand on it.
"Can I ask you something?" Hearing the same phrase you spoke to him before now really sounded weird.
"Since when do we ask for permission?" Lucien laughed, his stomach moved and your head bounced, you lifted yourself to glare at him for it and it only made him laugh harder. Before you knew it, a hot hand placed on your forehead pulled you back down, his arm dropping to your chest to hold you back from lifting again.
"Why did you ask me that?" His voice was gentle and warm, your cheeks burned at how fast your body filled with goosebumps, "Do you feel attracted to other males?" At your lack of response, his thumb caressed your cheek carefully. "It's okay if you do, it doesn't have to mean anything."
It doesn't have to mean anything.
There's something about Lucien that just soothes you, as weird as it feels to say it, his mainly nature allows you to be yourself, no hard shells. You didn't have to fight off males at bars because Lucien was there to do it for you. You didn't have to be the male. He radiated warmth and comfort.
"Come," he didn't give you a chance to respond to his latter question, the hand that wasn't on your chest gently lifted your head, "Let's go get drunk." For a brief moment his eyes settled on your body, before you could feel embarrassed under his gaze, Lucien spoke with a certain annoyance, "But it won't do with those clothes, honey."
You scoffed, rolling your eyes, "What's wrong with my clothes?" Even though your attire was rather simple, there wasn't anything particularly wrong or ugly about it.
"Funny, you never told me you had eye problems." The mocking smile on his face made you groan.
"Because I don't!" You yelled, sitting up so fast that your head spinned. Lucien blinked slowly, waiting for you to realize what was wrong, he only spoke when he noticed how lost you were.
"We're in Day Court, they're gonna kick us out of the bar if I take you out looking like this!" his hand gestured towards your dark clothes, "You're the perfect picture of a Night Court resident." Lucien stood up, snatching your hand and pulling you to your feet, you almost fell when he continued pulling you out of the room, towards the front door.
𓂃
When Azriel woke up for the second time, his chest hurt. A pressure he never felt before making it hard to breathe, his lungs burning as if he was drowning, the satin sheets scratched his sensitive skin. After he managed to fully open his eyes and look down at himself, he noticed red bumps on his arms and chest. When he tried to move, his whole body ached like he'd just fought the worst battle of his life. And the worst part was, he couldn't feel his wings.
In his half assed inspection, he noticed the dirty blonde hair sprawled across his sheets and he knew then that his shadows wouldn't help him. He tried to call for Elain, or anyone really, but he just ended up having a bad coughing fit. As he usually did when he couldn't or didn't want to speak, he called for Rhysand, hoping his brother would hear his desperate plea and help him.
'What's wrong?' his voice sounded annoyed but if Azrie wasn't so concerned, he'd notice how worried Rhysand actually sounded. 'Az? Answer me!'
When he woke for the third time, the room he was in wasn't his own, he recognized after a brief glance around that it was the infirmary.
"You're awake! Thank the mother..." The last part was uttered under his breath, Rhysand shot up to his feet, ruffling Azriel's hair with one hand and lightly patting his arm with the other. "I thought we'd lost you, brother."
Loud footsteps echoed through the hallway moments later, the door busted open and suddenly he was being pulled up, strong arms holding his body tightly.
"Idiot," sniffles and sobs muffled against his neck, "you scared me!" Cassian pulled back to look at him, wide and red eyes roaming over his face and body, taking in his features and wellbeing.
"What happened?" Azriel pulled back only to be taken by a different pair of arms, Rhysand nuzzled his head against his own, a shaky breath tickling his still sensitive skin.
"Madja said you had an allergic reaction, something you ate or drank or something overdosed..." Cassian spoke slowly, like the words felt weird on his tongue, "Azriel–" his breath got stuck in his throat, a choking sound filled the quiet room. Rhysand pulled back from the hug, violet eyes drifted between his two brothers, settling a while longer on Cassian. Azriel watched their silent interaction curiously.
"Az..." Rhysand called his attention, waiting for him to nod before continuing, "Your heart stopped beating."
𓂃
Shopping with Lucien was exactly how you expected. Trying on a bunch of different clothes only for him to roll his eyes and shake his head no, gesturing with a hand for you to get back inside the dressing room and try the next. You would've gotten annoyed at him if he didn't make up for his attitude.
"That's... By the Mother, Ace." He chuckled nervously, "Don't get me wrong! I mean—you're beautiful in any way, but in that... A Goddess would be outshined in your presence." You could swear the room had just turned a bit warmer and brighter at his words.
"Stop it–" you brushed him off.
"No, I mean it." That being the last dress you had to try on, Lucien got up from his seat, taking the basket with the clothes he'd approved and made his way towards you. His hand took yours gently, pulling you closer to himself, you were too busy trying to avert his gaze to notice the way he looked at you, the way he admired you. Trying to get your attention Lucien squeezed your hand, making you look up, for a moment you both just stared at each other, then he lifted your hand and made you turn slowly.
"Yeah, we're definitely taking this one." Lucien didn't give you time to be embarrassed, placing his hand on the small of your back and guiding you to the shoes section.
𓂃
"What?" His question was whispered under his breath, his sore throat made his voice rougher than it usually was.
"For a few minutes we–" Rhysand exhaled another shaky breath, "we lost you. You died." He waited for Azriel to show any reaction before caressing his mind with careful talons. Azriel allowed him with no more than just a blink.
"Az? Azriel!" Rhysand tried to shake him awake, feeling his brother's frigid skin made him recoil. "No..."
"Rhys? What's– Oh Gods, no, no, no!" Cassian pushed the High Lord aside, gathering Azriel in his arms and walking out in hurried steps. Being careful not to bang his wings, long legs or head against the door and walls.
He knew he hadn't checked Azriel's pulse or breathing, and refused to look down at his bare chest to know for sure, but he only had one thing in his mind at the moment, finding help. He would do anything to make sure his brother would live, but he knew he couldn't help him in this situation, and he also knew how Rhysand felt on death threatening occasions, so he went to the only other place that could give Azriel the type of help he needed.
Madja was always ready for anything, there was never a day or night where she wasn't able to help. Whatever it was, she always had the solution for it.
Until now.
"I am so sorry, High Lord!" she seemed as desperate as they were, "It seems his body is fighting something, he has symptoms of an allergy reaction, his organism reacted badly to something and is now trying to reject it. But I can't tell what and if I can't tell... then there's nothing I can do..." her eyes were filled with moisture, she couldn't meet anyone's gaze and wouldn't tear hers away from Azriel.
"We can't just sit here..." Cassian pondered, something came to his head and he glanced at Rhysand, noticing how he seemed to be on the verge of panic he stepped closer, "Brother, look at me! He's not going to die, you hear me?! Azriel's not going to die!" Cassian shook him, calling to him in his mind, showing him what he was thinking.
𓂃
Four drinks in and you couldn't take it anymore, it'd been so long since you've gotten drunk that you weren't sure if you knew how to handle alcohol, Lucien didn't seem like he'd stop any time soon. Now you realized how spoiled Rhysand had gotten you, unintentionally or not. You were used to his wine and the drinks at Rita's, which paled in comparison to what they had in Day. A little part of you that hadn't come out in so long, slowly slipped to the surface, new ideas about trying the rest of the unusual drinks or roaming the city trying a drink from each bar you could find filled your head.
"Didn't you like it? We can try another." Lucien tapped your arm with his fingers, bringing your attention to him.
"No, this one's fine," you took a sip of the coloured drink trying to make a point, grimacing as you did.
Lucien grinned, "Yeah? Then I'll get another–"
"No!" Your hand shot up to hold his arm when he moved to stand, his face told you you'd have to give him a good excuse if you wanted him to sit back down. You groaned and let go of him, your fingers lightly pushed the drink away. "It's not bad–Really! it isn't! It's just... I'm not used to drinks this strong." You muttered the last part, hoping he wouldn't catch.
"Sorry, what was that?" He leaned close, one of his hands cupping his ear. You rolled your eyes.
"I said, I'm not used to drinks this strong." Lucien cooed at you.
"Aw, baby! You could've told me!" the hand that cupped his ear fell to your back, gently patting and rubbing you, you waited for the moment he'd mock you, "I would've asked for a warm cup of milk–"
A loud smack echoed. Just in time for your hand to make contact with his arm, the talking and music quieted. A few faes turned to glance at you both, raised eyebrows and hushed whispers, your cheeks heated up at the embarrassment consuming you. Lucien threw his head back and barked out a laugh that had your head falling against the table with a tud, you wanted to cave a hole right there and bury yourself in it, only coming out centuries later when everyone had forgotten it, including yourself.
𓂃
"Thank you." Rhysand breathed out, after seeing some color return to Azriel's face he felt like he could properly breathe again, "Really, I'll be in debt with you for the rest of my life." Those were dangerous words for a High Lord like him, and still he pronounced them clearly, it was a promise.
"No need. You're my friend and I'm glad to help." Helion patted his arm and left after a brief nod in Cassian's direction, wanting to give them the privacy to be vulnerable. Cassian immediately took it, crossing the room and pulling Rhysand into a tight hug.
"He's okay, he's okay." He repeated. Rhys hummed against his neck in response.
Now that the worst part was over, that he was sure Azriel would live, the brutality of the situation hit him. Azriel almost died and Elain was behind it. He wondered if she knew what she did, if that was her intention from the beginning or if it was an accident. He wondered why. Even though he hated the idea, he thought she loved him, thought they loved each other, enough so that Azriel defied him. But this... this wasn't love. Her reasons to do it didn't matter.
Rhysand hated himself for failing his brother, but he hated her more. He wanted to go back to the House of Wind and make Elain pay, perhaps giving her the drug she had given Azriel and see what happened, a strong Illyrian male survived, with the right help, he wondered how a simple high fae would take it, alone.
While embraced in strong loving arms, Rhysand fantasized about the female who almost killed his brother, who threatened his family. Wild fantasies of her in extreme pain, deadly worry, agonizing her last breath filled his mind. He wondered if Azriel would want a turn with her, if he'd want to make her pay for almost ending his life, for taking away his choice, for destroying the life he'd built with you.
Ace. He had to tell you, even if you ended up ignoring him, even if it didn't change anything for you, you should know. But he had something to do first.
𓂃
Coming back to the inn felt like a dream. With merry eyes that place was heavenly. You didn't remember getting ready for bed but the oversized shirt you wore and lack of makeup on your face showed you had. After doing your morning routine, you left your room. You assumed Lucien was still asleep given that there weren't any sounds coming from the hallway, so with quiet steps you made your way to the kitchen, only to find the table already set.
You were too busy munching on a piece of bread to notice the presence behind you. Two fingers jabbing into your ribs and a weirdly attractive 'morning' uttered by your ear made you jump, the squeak the chair let out mixed with your yelp. When your heartbeat stopped deafening your ears, you heard Lucien howling.
"The bread!" He wheezed. You watched him with narrowed eyes but after understanding what he had said, you started searching for it. "Cei–" he tried to say something only to start laughing again.
"What?" You frantically searched for the bread and still there was no trace of it, glancing back at Lucien you noticed his finger pointing up. The piece of bread had stuck to the ceiling above your head, the splashes of jam started falling as you looked up. A weird wet sound and the smack of bread on the table had Lucien barking out laughter.
Someone knocking interrupted your silly moment, Lucien wiped the tears in his eyes and walked to the front door. The silence that followed was awkward, there was no sound after the door opened, no greetings. A few seconds later you got curious and decided to go see who it was, as you walked closer Lucien asked what was wrong, you would've waited fro the other person to speak if you hadn't caught a glimpse of black. As you fully turned the corner, violet eyes drifted to you.
There was something in him that just felt unsettling. Rhysand seemed disturbed, and you hoped it had nothing to do with you.
"I need to talk to you." His voice was quiet, worrying you even more. You nodded and Lucien invited him in, closing the door behind him.
"I'll be in my room if you need me." He walked away after a brief look at you.
You took Rhysand to the living room, pointing for him to sit before taking the other side of the couch. The High Lord leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees, his fingers fidgeting.
"I don't know how to tell you this, so I'm going to show you," he hesitantly turned to face you, "if you allow me."
"Okay." Even if it had something to do with you, it was bad enough to make Rhysand nervous, and that wasn't good.
Images of the last three days filled your mind. Azriel's pale body limp and Cassian gathering him would haunt you forever. Seeing Rhysand's inner turmoil, Cassian fighting to stay composed for his brothers sake, the Archeron sisters yelling at each other, Mor and even Amren looking troubled, it was all too much for you. Minutes after the memories ended you still hadn't pronounced a word, there was not a single indication of what you were thinking or feeling.
"Helion helped heal him, Madja wasn't able to so we brought him here. We would've taken him to Dawn but given that it was a potion, we couldn't risk losing time only to be met with no solution, and since there's not a spell Helion doesn't know, it was a wise decision." With a glance in his direction, you noticed how he nodded absentmindedly, his voice quiet as if he was talking more to himself. "It was Cassian."
The thought of Cassian poisoning Azriel sounded horrifying and the most unrealistic thing ever, "What?!" It was a loud whisper, you would've yelled if your voice hadn't failed you, almost muted from shock.
"No! Gods, no! I'm sorry I made it sound like that, I meant that it was Cassian's idea to bring him here. He took over when I couldn't think straight..."
"Thank the Mother," you breathed out, relief overtaking you for a moment before another thought came to mind, "but, who was it?" you hesitated for a moment, Azriel couldn't have poisoned himself accidentally, and the thought of someone close to him doing that, was terrifying. If someone had the guts to harm The Spymaster of the Night Court, they were either out of their mind, or the most threatening person to enter that court in centuries.
"Elain." Your stomach dropped, that uncomfortable sensation of shock filled you, Elain!?
Out of everything your mind could have come up with, Elain harming Azriel wouldn't be one of them. Up until a few seconds ago you still thought they loved each other, thought she wanted him badly enough to push her mate aside, thought he wanted her badly enough to throw you away and go against his brother to be with her. She had him, how could she harm him like that? Why?
"When Azriel was stable, I went to interrogate her, to know exactly what her intention was." He started when he noticed you were lost in thought. "It was a love potion. She had been cultivating passionflower for months now, its tea is used to treat insomnia, anxiety and pain. but apparently it's also used on love potions. So every time she pretended to help him ease his anxiety and sleep better, she was also drugging him into being in love with her." You uttered some curse words under your breath, Rhysand nodded in agreement before continuing. "She was using the flower petals and concentrated syrup on the cakes and pastries she gave him, saying it was a new recipe or just a form of payment for his help. According to her, three nights ago Azriel started acting differently, she could see the way his behavior drifted from being obsessed and lustful to disgust and indifference, so she thought it'd be a good idea to triple the tea's dose. The thing is, Az already had a decent amount of it in his system, he just wasn't reacting to it, and after the triple dose... It made him relax and sleep as intended, but when he drifted off, his heartbeat slowed way more than normal and it only got worse. The soreness he was feeling from the past few days turned into extreme pain, the beating Cassian and I gave him, his wing... It all made him too sensitive, the bruises turned red and angry like closed wounds or rashes. He managed to wake up somehow," Rhysand gave a humorless laugh, "and he called me... when I found him..." he drifted off, for sure reliving the moment behind his closed eyelids.
"Rhys..." you tried to find what to say, but nothing came up, you couldn't think straight. Your lower lip trembled, your eye stinging with tears that you couldn't keep from falling. A hand rested over your shaky one, his body shifting closer to you, his other hand bringing you to lean on his chest, planting a kiss to the side of your head before resting his against you and letting his own tears fall.
"I know it's a lot to take in... it was for me too." He breathed shakily in and out. "I took care of her, Az is safe, no one will hurt him again. It's okay." He kept uttering words to comfort you both.
You didn't know what to think. Azriel hadn't chosen her, he didn't love her, didn't push you aside because he stopped loving or wanting you. It made sense now why he seemed so intrigued when you mentioned breaking up, why his change was so sudden, why you didn't recognize him. The Azriel you broke up with wasn't the same Azriel you had fallen in love with, and at the same time that it relieved a horrible weight off of your chest, it also laid another. Because even if it wasn't your fault, you hated yourself for not seeing it earlier, for leaving him and giving her the chance to have him, and more so for even for a brief moment, wanting Lucien.
"You couldn't have known." You immediately closed off your mind and pushed away from his chest, refusing to meet Rhysand's eyes. "I'm not judging you, I wouldn't ever do that. I hate myself too for not seeing it, I knew he was different but I was just so pissed that I didn't even consider... I'm sure that the Azriel we know wouldn't judge you either. And, can I tell you something?" His hands were still holding yours and rubbing your back.
"Yeah." You still refused to look at him, your cheeks tinged with shame, Rhysand lifted your chin, his face showed no signs of bad emotions anymore, and if you dared guess, it showed hope.
"First I want you to know I'm not prompting you to do anything, I just want you to acknowledge the truth, you don't have to do anything with it if you don't want to. Again, I'm not going to judge you." He waited until you understood and nodded before speaking. "Azriel never loved Elain. His heart belongs to you... his soul belongs to you."
You tilted your head in question, wondering why he looked at you so intrigued. Of course, hearing that Azriel never loved another from someone else's mouth comforted you, showed that you weren't so wrong in assuming.
"Sweetheart–" he opened his mouth to continue but closed quickly after, thinking for a moment before meeting your eyes with a newfound determination, "Elain only resorted to that because she knew she was losing time, she couldn't make him fall for her naturally, and she knew she wouldn't have the chance to do it if Azriel found out." Rhysand shook his head when he noticed you didn't have a clue of what he was saying, his talons caressed you mind wanting to show you. It was a moment you didn't remember, and wouldn't ever because it didn't and wouldn't happen.
Both you and Azriel babysitting Nyx, who was snuggled in your arms, giggling from your fingers tickling his sides. Azriel watched the scene with adoring eyes, his shadows danced at the sound of your laughter, floating around you. The baby's back was turned to him, and the sight of his wings and black hair gave Azriel an image of what could be his future. His baby, giggling and snuggling with you, their eyes a copy of yours, nose the perfect mixture of you both, pointy ears half hidden behind black hair. Your eyes met his from behind his nephew's head, the light in them and your face glowing with happiness told him you were thinking the same. The love he cultivated behind his ribs bloomed, he could swear his heart pulsed so hard you could see it moving even hidden behind his shirt.
He watched you gently place Nyx down, making sure he entertained himself with some toys before making your way towards him. Azriel met you halfway, as always, locking his arms behind you and pulling you into his chest, your bodies fit perfectly.
"Can you imagine it?" You spoke softly.
"Yeah, I can." You could basically hear his smile.
Azriel pulled back slightly, his hand coming up to your head to make you look at him. Your eyes met hazel ones, the molten gold in his eyes, mingled with green and brown, glowed. The swirls they made resembled his shadows, you could spend hours staring into his irises and still they would fascinate you. Azriel blinked, when your eyes met this time, there was gold in yours too, a small thread growing brighter and brighter, his heart ached, a pull constricted his breath and he hissed, when your brows furrowed and your eyes watered, he knew you felt the same.
The thread became bigger and you finally felt your souls connected, Azriel's happiness was overwhelming, the tears fell. His forehead rested on yours, he sniffled and chuckled a moment later, shaking his head in astonishment.
"It's you..." he smiled, pulling back and caressing your face, "I always knew it was you." He whipped your tears while his own fell freely down his cheeks, your hands cupped his face, bringing him down for a kiss.
The memory ended and your heart broke. Seeing Azriel so close like that again, and so full of love, that was the male you knew and loved, knowing that perhaps you'd never get to experience that moment with him, absolutely wrecked you. Your throat tightened trying to hold back your sobs, fat tears rolled down your face, wetting your and Rhysand's shirt. 
Azriel was your mate. It was you he was tied to. Not Elain, not Mor. You.
Your mind provided you with a thousand possibilities of how your life could have been, if only Elain hadn't interfered. Your heart ached for him, for you, for the family you could've built. You still wanted him, it was too soon for you to have stopped wanting, but it was also too early to tell what was the right thing to do. Perhaps such a thing didn't exist, you both have always walked a thin line between right and wrong.
What confused you most was also longing for Lucien. Right when you decided that it wasn't wrong to want him, this happened. How could you feel so much want, and for different people? 
So you cried. For everything and everyone. For all the possible futures you could've had, and for the ones you still could have. For hatred, for love, for the blankness inside you. For not knowing if what you felt for Lucien was only lust. For still loving Azriel, enough that whatever happened with Elain didn't matter anymore, it wasn't his fault anyway. And most importantly, you cried for yourself. For the pain inflicted upon you, for the rough path you always had to walk, for the weight of the world that you carried on your shoulders everyday.
Rhysand didn't move, his arms never strayed from your trembling body. He never tried to stop your tears, he knew you had to get the pain out someway. He whispered gentle words right by your ear, everything he knew would help ease your worries and pain.
The tears stopped after a few minutes, Rhys didn't let go immediately, letting you make the first move and pull away first. After that you spent a little while thinking through your options, taking a moment to decide what you wanted. 
“Do you think–” you glanced at him to see his expression, “do you think he'll want to see me?” 
“What?!” Rhysand scoffed, “Sweetheart, of course he'll want to see you.” 
This trip was supposed to be relaxing, a time for you to not think of everything that happened. Lucien has asked you to come with him, to be there for him. You knew that he'd be okay with you going to see Azriel, because that's just the way he was, he would put himself aside to make sure his friends were happy, nevermind that his own happiness was just as important.
If someone deserves happiness, a happy ending, it's him. Lucien overworked so he wouldn't notice how alone he was, he used to avoid going home before you went to live with him. You both had become so much closer in the past few days, taking care of each other, having more fun than you've had in years. 
You weighed your options, you could stay with him and continue with your original plans, you could go see Azriel out of respect for the time you spent together and worry for the male you loved, you could just send a letter, and you could go back to him, because none of what happened was his fault.
“I need some time to think.”
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loggiepj · 2 days
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illicit affairs
part 2 | part 3
YOU'D be a fool trying to convince yourself that Wanda was just some old hag sleeping on your bed that night. But god, she had never looked so peaceful and gorgeous than that very moment, as she was ten years ago. You didn't even know it was possible for someone to look so beautiful, it looked like a crime. As if the gods above blessed only those who were cruel. And cursed those who worshipped them.
Her creamy white legs were exposed from the blanket wrapped around her body. Her tiny soft snores filled the room as she buried herself deep into the pillows. It would take days before her scent would be gone from your sanctuary.
It tore you apart to look at her and feel these forbidden emotions, mad at yourself for feeling this way towards the old woman. You should hate her. You should have kicked her out for what she did.
You decided to go to the kitchen and make something for breakfast instead, preoccupying yourself from worrying too much, that the one nightmare you had always have had come true.
Even your hands were shaking as you beat down the eggs into a bowl, it was a miracle you had managed to cook food. The bacon almost ended up burnt when you jumped from her sudden presence in the kitchen.
"You're awake," you said, ignoring Wanda's gaze on you, her eyes glistening with a recognizable look. You knew that look. She used to look at you that way when you were wearing nothing but her white button down shirt as you made her a quick midnight snack whenever the twins weren't around. But that was ten years ago.
You don't feel anything for the woman anymore, right?
"I made us breakfast," you said before she opened her mouth to speak, stopping her. "You should eat first before you leave."
Wanda took small steps towards the dining table, looking at the food you made her. You wondered if she was touched, remembering how Wanda preferred scrambled eggs more than sunny side ups. But you convinced yourself you didn't do it for her. Because that would make you a martyr.
"This is good," Wanda softly said as you two began to eat in silence. You forced a small smile her way and went back eating.
"I haven't had breakfast like this for ages," she admitted, chuckling. "The boys mostly want cereals for breakfast, I ended up liking them, especially those colorful sweet ones, the . . . I forgot what they were called."
"Froot Loops?"
The skin around her eyes crinkled when she smiled. "Yes, Froot Loops. I swear I'd end up having diabetes one day."
You nodded, chugging down what remained of your coffee as you avoided the woman's gaze.
"What are your plans today? It's a Saturday," the brunette added. "The twins are planning to shop around Chinatown before the classes start. You might even have ideas where to-"
"I can't," you answered, "sorry, I am meeting someone today."
"Oh," she went on, a teasing smirk on her face, "a girlfriend?"
Your fork made a noise as you let it fall down your plate. "What do you want, Miss Maximoff?"
Wanda's smile immediately vanished as she stopped eating. "I . . . I'm sorry if I said something wrong. I didn't mean to pry if you have someone special-"
"No, I mean, what do you want? Why are you here? What were you thinking looking for me, for you to end up inside a sketchy bar?"
Wanda bit back a sob as she looked at you, her hand slipping to hold yours across the table. You tensed and abruptly took it away, ended up with her curling hers into a fist.
"I am so sorry, Y/n," she began, "I'm so sorry for what I did all those years ago, for what I said to you, for being so cruel. I . . . I have to live everyday regretting everything I have said to you. You didn't deserve those things. You were nothing but good to me, and I took you for granted. I . . . I just . . . miss you. I miss you, Y/n. There isn't a day in my life since you left that I haven't thought of you."
You scoffed, standing up as you began cleaning the dishes.
You heard the scraping of her chair against the floor as she stood. "I looked for you. After your graduation, I looked for you. I wanted to take back everything I said. I didn't mean those things. If I could only turn back time, I'd go back to that very day and I should've kissed you and chose you-"
"But you can't," you butted in as you turned to glance at the hysteric woman before you, "turn back the time, I mean."
Wanda was panting softly as her teary eyes stared right at you. She shook her head as she said, "No, I can't."
"That's unfortunate, then," you said back coldly.
Wanda swallowed, still frozen on her spot, and before she'd burst into more tears in your apartment, you went towards the doorway, grabbed your coat and keys. "I'm just gonna grab some coffee. Your clothes are freshly laundered in the bathroom if you want to freshen up before leaving. Please don't forget to lock the door when you leave."
"Y/n—" But you haven't heard the end of it as you closed the door.
Luckily, Wanda wasn't there when you went back home two hours after. But once you had ensured the whole apartment was empty, you broke down and cried.
TIME and absence would surely heal a wound. A couple of months had passed since that dreary encounter and you swore there were a few days when you had completely forgotten about Wanda. That was until you received a call late Friday night when you had only just arrived in your apartment.
It was a nurse from a nearby private hospital, saying that Tommy got into an accident. Before you argued why you were in his contacts in the first place, you drove to the hospital to visit.
Apparently, Tommy got into a fight in one of the fraternity parties he and his friends attended. With broken nose, cut lip and fractured arm, Tommy almost looked unrecognizable.
"Sorry, Y/n," Tommy said when he saw you enter the emergency room, "I didn't know who else to call. And I don't want to worry Mom-"
"It's okay, Tommy. Are you okay? What happened?"
And as you listened to Tommy and the nurse who attended to him, your breathing quickened, your hand hovering over the phone in your jean's pocket. Hesitant to call his mother, even if you knew you had to. Seeing the brunette was the last thing you wanted to do. But this was her son. Your feelings should come last.
Instead of calling the woman, you ended up sending her a short text message, to which she replied instantly, saying that she was already on her way.
You were getting a cup of coffee from a vending machine outside the hospital when Wanda arrived, hearing her voice inside the emergency room.
You decided to sit on the bench by the waiting area, thinking whether you should leave them or stay. You must have fallen asleep on your seat for a few minutes when you felt someone sit beside you.
"Thank you for being there for him," Wanda said.
"How's Tommy?"
"He's under some meds right now for the pain, but the doctor says he's going to be fine."
"That's good," you said.
"There's no available private room at the moment, so he has no choice but to stay in a ward with other patients," she went on, massaging her head. "Doctor said he'll likely be discharged tomorrow or the day after that."
"If you want, you can sleep in my apartment, take a bath or such, while waiting for him to get discharged," you offered. And you had no idea where such sympathy came from.
There was even a short moment where her eyes were at your mouth before she looked back at you.
"I don't want to impose—"
"Wanda, it's fine," you insisted. "For Tommy."
She nodded. "Thank you."
YOU VISITED Tommy in the ward first before leaving, while waiting for Wanda to finish filling up the papers in the hospital's admission room.
"You going to be fine alone?"
"I can manage," he replied, chuckling, showing off his cast.
"Will your father visit?"
The smile on his face disappeared, his fingers playing on the tape around his wrist. "Dad does not visit us often anymore. And I hardly believe he cared for us anyway, now that he has another family of his own."
That was news to you.
"I always tell Mom to find someone so she wouldn't end up alone," he went on, his eyes at the window where you two could see Wanda busy writing. "But she never remarried after Dad, maybe it was because she never trusts men like Dad anymore. But it's been years, you know. I know she's too scared to admit it, but I know she's lonely at home now that me and Billy are in college."
Your eyes were on Wanda as she talked to the Doctor. "I'm sure she'll find someone in the right time."
He laughed softly, making you look at him. "Come to think of it, they got divorced years ago, months after we didn't see you at the house anymore. There was one time Billy thought you were the other woman Dad has been cheating with. But I know you're not that bad of a person."
You stiffened. "You mean, they'd been divorced that long?"
Tommy hummed. "Yes, ten years ago, I guess. We eventually found out who the other woman was. Good thing we didn't curse you by mistake."
You forced to laugh at his joke, but your mind was running in deep circles wondering if the divorce really had something to do with you.
"COME on, don't be shy," your friend Steve invited Wanda, who looked as shocked as you were. "Any friend of Y/n is a friend of ours."
Somehow, when Wanda was returning the clothes you lent to her that time Tommy was hospitalized, there you were in your apartment with your friends, who held a surprised farewell party for Bucky, who was leaving for London the next day. As if Wanda knew perfect timing.
Kate hadn't left your side, even sitting between you just to eradicate any weirdness. The group's conversation went from talking about everyone's jobs, making Wanda let out her plans she was starting a flower shop business in New York and that she had just bought a spot particularly two blocks from the university. You tried to give her the benefit of the doubt, and convinced yourself she was only doing that to be closer to her boys. But you knew better.
Even Kate faked a laugh as she held another toast for the woman. "What about a special someone, Miss Maximoff? I heard you were divorced. Anyone you're meeting at the moment?"
Wanda's eyes met yours for a second before you looked away and drank whatever was left from your bottle of beer.
"No," she answered, chuckling. "I think I'm too old for that stuff anyway."
Bucky chortled. "No way you're old, Miss. If you want, I can set you up with people I know from work. I might even be successful on setting you up than Y/n here, whom I've failed a number of times."
"Why?" Wanda asked curiously.
Kate tried to stop Bucky. "Bucky, just give it a rest—"
"Oh, Y/n here has unknown high standards," Bucky enthusiastically added. "Believe me when dozens had gone down on their knees and Y/n has respectfully refused any advances."
"Shut up," you said, laughing, although you could tell Wanda's eyes never left yours all night long.
WHEN the party ended, all of the attendees slowly started to leave the apartment until there was only you and Wanda. Wanda helped you clean up the place, starting with throwing the empty boxes of pizza and bottles of beers into the trash bag.
"Y/n." Wanda broke the silence. Chappell Roan's casual was playing through the speakers.
"Mm?"
"Is it true?"
You stopped putting the dishes into the dishwasher to look at her. "Is what true?"
There was a small pause before she went on. "Have I ruined you for anyone else?"
You straighten your posture, frustrated as you glared back at her. "How dare you?"
"Then tell me," she challenged, approaching you with a sly smile on her face. "It's an easy question answerable by yes or no. Tell me."
"You infuriate me!"
"That's not a no—"
"You're nothing but a pathetic old slut who craves attention from someone who doesn't want her anymore!"
"Admit it then!" She leaned forward, closer to your face, her nostrils flaring. "Say it to my face that you don't feel anything for me anymore and I'll leave you alone for good! Tell me—"
You pushed your mouth against hers, effectively stopping Wanda from talking. She gasped upon the impact, with her back hitting the wall behind her from the force. And she welcomed you with as much aggression, her hands cupping your face to hold you.
With your arms on each side of her head, you pressed your bodies together, molding against each other. Her tongue played with yours, tasting what had been missed, wondering if each one of you were still as desperate as you were ten years ago.
"Y/N!" she moaned loudly a couple of minutes later as you pulled her hair, while roughly pistoning your strap into her from behind.
You had never thought you'd be able to do it. But there you were in your own bedroom with the woman you both loathed and loved so much on all fours before you. And it was driving you insane.
Mind filled with rage and lust, you tried to forget that this woman before you was the cause of your downfall. You tried to forget she hurt you, broke your heart to pieces as if you were nothing. Basking in the moment, you harshly grabbed the skin of her hips, nails digging, as you repeatedly and relentlessly pushed into her warm dripping entrance.
The tip of your strap hit your clit at the right angle, making you roll your eyes to the back of your head. And when you heard Wanda's whimpers before you, your hand slipped through her back then held her shoulder as you fastened the pace.
The brunette screamed as her body convulsed in waves, shuddering as she came. If it weren't for you holding her upright, she would've fallen straight face down on the sheets.
But her cumming didn't stop you from chasing your relief. The sweet nectar from her release dripping down both your thighs only made the action slippery and noisy.
"Y/n. . . ," Wanda moaned, her hand attempting to hold you back but you slapped her hand away before leaning forward as you held both of her hands behind her back. This rendered Wanda's face flat against the pillow before her, muffling her moans.
"Is this what you want, huh?" you demanded, eyes almost in tears seeing Wanda and pretending you weren't just loving every moment that was happening right now. "Is this what you want from me?"
"Yes!" she screamed, gasping when you spanked one of her butt cheeks. "Yes! Y/n! You're all I want! You're all I've ever wanted!"
And that snapped something inside you. The coil in your stomach exploded, making you press your front into her back as you lay on top of her.
"Wanda," you moaned into her neck, your hips stuttering as you came. She held your face behind her as your body shook.
"I got you, Y/n," she cooed softly as you panted, still trembling above her. "I got you."
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I truly appreciate your continued support in reading my stories. You can help me create more stories by supporting my writing thru this link. Thank you so much ❤🥰
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puari-vol · 13 hours
Text
Peer Pressure
CW: Hypnosis
I stood quietly and unobtrusively off in a corner of the ‘slumber party’ trying my best not to bother anyone. Occasionally I glanced over at my friend Kelsey who was talking animatedly with some girls and wondered why she had insisted I come along. Of course I had agreed at the time, it seemed like a good way to make friends. But now that I was here…I couldn’t bring myself to try talking to anyone. I fixed my eyes on the cup of water in my hand. This was all… fine, I was just being Kelsey's designated driver. I was being helpful, like a good friend should be. It didn’t matter if I had fun or not. 
I zoned out enough that when Kelsey tapped me on the shoulder I jumped
“Did you really just stand in the corner this whole time? Geez come on you goof its time for the movie!” 
She took my arm and dragged me toward the TV. Both couches were full so I ended up sitting cross legged on the ground in front of them. Kelsey was about to sit next to me before she was suddenly pulled away to sit with some other girls, so now I was just sitting next to two strangers. They didn't seem to mind me, but they didn't introduce themselves either.
The lights go off and the movie starts, the chatter dies down as everybody watches. It seemed like there was something wrong with the audio, there was an odd droning sound playing under the movie. But it wasn’t loud enough to be annoying and nobody else seemed to notice so I kept quiet. The movie was honestly kinda boring, I glanced around and accidentally made eye contact with someone doing the same thing. I felt myself blush and turned back to pay attention. The movie kept going and after a while I started to space out. I was so out of it that when something changed it took me a while to notice. The movie wasn’t playing anymore, or maybe…this was part of the movie? The screen just showed a pink and purple spiral spinning around and around. The droning had gotten louder. How long had the spiral been on the screen? I couldn’t remember. I looked to the girl on my right, about to ask if something was wrong with the movie. But she was just staring at the screen, focused. I noticed everyone else was doing much the same. I quickly turned back to the screen, not wanting to embarrass myself. As I watched I tried to remember what had been happening in the movie for this to make sense, the spiral and been going for at least a few minutes now, but the more I tried the more the details of the movie seemed fuzzy and distant. I stared intently at the screen, trying to find out what everyone else was looking at…
I blinked when there was suddenly someone sitting in front of me. I only noticed because she waved her hand in front of my face after she sat down. She was backlit by the spiral on the screen and she smiled at me. 
“Hey there” she said softly “First time here?”
I just nodded feeling strangely dizzy.
“Kelsy said she was bringing someone knew, is that you?”
I nodded again, she was gazing intently at me and I started to feel self conscious, I averted my eyes and saw that everyone else was still just staring at the spiral
“Well Kelsy has good taste, you’ll be lovely”
I blush, not expecting the compliment
“Um thanks” I mumble no longer able to meet her eyes. She was grinning at me now
“Are you ready?”
“Uh…for what?”
“To learn about the button that turns off your brain” 
I blinked as I tried to sort through the nonsense statement
“The what?”
She giggled and pointed off to my left 
“Just watch, you’ll get the idea”
I looked and saw she was pointing at the girls sitting on one of the couches, all of their eyes were glued to the spiral. As I watched, another girl came up behind them. Starting with the girl on the far left, she leaned down and whispered something into her ear. Then reached over and tapped her on the forehead. At once, she went limp. Head lolling forward, eyes closed. She slumped into the girl sitting next to her, who jolted as if suddenly startled awake, eyes blinking rapidly. But the girl behind the couch simply reached over and tapped her on the forehead as well. And suddenly both girls seemed to be fast asleep leaning into each other. The girl behind the couch smiled and gave them both a pat on the head before moving on to the rest of the couch
“You see? All good girls like you have a button that turns off their brain” 
I was staring open mouthed at the girls now asleep on the couch
“But…but I’m not-”
“Shhhhh”
I felt a hand on my cheek, and my head was turned to face the girl in front of me again. I was blushing like crazy now and I stammered something incoherent. The girl just smiled kindly
“Don’t worry, you won't be bothered by that kind of stuff soon”
Hand still on my cheek, she turned my head to the right, where I watched the girl sitting right next to me get tapped on the forehead. Her eyes fluttered shut, and she slumped back, mouth open and drooling.
“Isn’t she pretty?” 
She put her hand below my chin and made me nod, I hardly noticed I was just staring at the girl
“Doesn’t she look beautiful, all sleepy like that?”
She made me nod again
“Don’t you want to look like that?”
I nodded, I wasn’t sure if she made me or not
She turned my head to face her again. Her other hand was held up in front of me, her index finger pointed at me. My eyes focused on the tip of her finger
“W-wait”
“Nighty night”
She tapped me on the forehead
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blueicequeen19 · 13 hours
Text
Drunken State
Warnings: drunk unprotected shower sex between two best friends 🥵
The sudden loud bang coming from the bathroom has you startling awake and throwing your blanket off as you make a beeline for the door. You rush down the hall, finding the door standing open and a drunk JJ struggling in the tub where he’d fallen. He’s collapsed in a fit of laughter, half wrapped in the shower curtain with his shorts around his ankles.
“Dude, seriously?” You chide, shaking your head at him from the door.
“Y/N.. shh.. people are sleeping.” JJ snickers, trying and failing to get up.
“Yea, no shit. Why are you shit faced on a Tuesday?” You grab his arm to help pull him out of the tub.
“Because my girlfriend cheated on me on a Tuesday.” JJ chuckles, tripping over his own feet and crashing into you, pinning you between his body and the wall.
“JJ..” You murmur, your hands flat against the wall as you resist the urge to touch him.
You suck in a breath, your eyes locked on his at the sudden close proximity. His body was pressed firmly against your own, letting you feel every ridge and curve. Especially with his shorts around his ankles and his boxers providing a very thin barrier.
The energy shifts from light and amused to thick and intense. There’s no sign of laughter in the way he stares down at you, licking his bottom lip like he has something to say. You open your mouth to say something, anything, when you feel him hardening against you. Your eyes widen as you feel every inch of him raise to full attention against your stomach.
“You should go.” JJ rasps, taking his bottom lip between his teeth as his eyes descend your body. Heat rushes through your veins as you quickly squeeze your thighs together. He wasn’t wrong. You should go.
“I should.” You whisper, wetting your lips with your tongue while his eyes track the movement. Kissing JJ had never sounded like a better idea than in this moment. He was hurting and you were lonely. You were both in need of a distraction that came with an orgasm or two..
“Then go.” The desire in his raspy voice made your stomach flip. His hand came up to grip the back of your neck, arching your neck for him and bringing your mouth closer.
“Do you want me to kiss you?” JJ whispers, his mouth so close to your own that you can practically taste the alcohol on his breath. You find yourself nodding slowly, your legs starting to tremble with need. He leans in closer, ghosting his lips across your cheek before whispering in your ear.
“I don’t think I’ll be able to stop once I do.” Your hands move to his waist, feeling the heat of his skin through his boxers as his breath meats your neck.
“We shouldn’t do this.” You admit, feeling his cock press against your stomach.
“Help me shower.” JJ whispers, hooking his thumbs in the waist band of your sleep shorts.
“Why do you need help?”
“I’m drunk. I could drown.” You snort at his words because it’s typical JJ charm but he’s not smiling. Time seems to slow as he strips off the rest of his clothes, fixes the shower curtain, and turns on the water.
When he faces you again, it becomes almost impossible to keep from looking at how hard he was. Was it you? Was it the alcohol? The stress from a long day?
“Strip.” His gruff voice has your thighs clenching as you swallow the lump in your throat.
“JJ..”
“Stop thinking.” JJ rasps, cupping the back of your neck before kissing you hard. You moan against his lips, hands wrapping around his waist until your nails dig into his back. He pulls back just enough to run his tongue over your bottom lip before whispering, “—, and take your fucking clothes off.”
You don’t have to be told twice, yanking off the few articles of clothing you’re wearing before being yanked against his very naked and very hard body. His mouth is on yours again before you can even blink and he’s pulling you into the scolding hot shower.
His fingers slide between your legs at about the same time you wrap your hand around his thick length. A moan slips free as he rubs your clit with teasing touches, leaving you desperate to be filled. You’d never been more turned on in your life.
“This only happens once.” You murmur, stroking him root to tip as his jaw clenches, hair hanging in his eyes.
“For now.” JJ mutters, his fingers circling your entrance until you’re lifting up on your toes and squeezing him harder.
“And we don’t tell the others.” You gasp, arching your hips in a silent plea.
“Then you better be quiet.” JJ growls before shoving two thick fingers inside you and swallowing your cries with a bruising kiss. Your back meets the wall as he fingers you harder, pushing your legs further apart as his palm grinds against your clit.
“JJ, I’m gonna cum.” You whine, swiping your thumb over his weeping tip as you suck in a breath.
“Not until I’m inside you.” You nearly cum right then, your insides squeezing his fingers desperately as he slows his movements, a smirk pulling at his lips.
“I love seeing your desperate for my cock.” JJ growls, removing his fingers to prop your leg open on the edge of the tub. You’re in no position to argue as you reach between your legs and guide him where you need.
“I seem to remember someone just as desperate for me to strip.” You breathe, his hand meeting yours as he helps push inside your tight walls. Your bottom lips quivers as he fills you agonizingly slow until he bottoms out and you can barely breathe. It takes you far too long to realize he hasn’t moved on purpose, intentionally driving you mad.
“Do you need something?” He taunts, leaning in to kiss you and making his cock sink in deeper. You whimper, nails biting into his sides as your walls pulse.
“JJ.” You pant, withering against the shower wall as every last bit of sanity seems to leave you.
“Ask me for it.” JJ smirks, letting his hands find your heavy, aching breasts and tugging on your hardened nipples.
“Please J..” You plead, unable to control the way your body trembles against his. “Please fuck me. Please, J..” Your words trail off on a moan as he withdraws enough to thrust back in hard. His hand clamps down over your mouth, fire in his eyes as he does it again and again. You can’t stop the release that explodes from you, your vision going dark for a period of time before you’re thrown back into your body.
“That’s it. Cum for me.” JJ grunts over the sound of skin on skin. He drives his cock in hard and fast, as one hand fists your hair and the other leaves a bruising grip on your hip. His mouth crashes to yours as you open your mouth to scream, another climax hitting you harder than the first. Your knees grow weak as you dig your nails into his back, holding on for dear life.
“I’m gonna cum inside you, Y/N.” JJ groans, making you clench even harder as you whimper and moan against his lips. A sudden panic clutches you at the thought of him getting you pregnant but you’ve also been on birth control for years and the panic fades as you tighten your grip on his back.
“Don’t stop.” You whisper, moving your lips to his neck and throat, biting and sucking the skin until he cums with a moan only seconds later, dropping his head to your shoulder.
You’d never had sex without a condom before and it was an odd first to share with your best friend. It was also alarmingly hot the way you could feel every pulse of his cock as he emptied inside you. You wanted to do it again and again, even if it meant—
“Yo! Get out of the bathroom!” A booming voice shouts through the door with a loud knock. JJ pulls back, staring at you with as much alarm as you feel when the door is suddenly thrown open anyway.
“Dude, I’m not looking but I have to pee.” Pope groans, following the obvious sound of him urinating in the toilet. You start to smirk at JJ as he shakes his head until he slowly starts to rock his hips, making bite back a whimper at the soreness deep in your pussy. This was wrong.
“Did you just get in?” Pope asks, startling you both again as he takes the world’s longest piss.
“Yea.” JJ grunts, moving his hips faster and coving your mouth with his hand as heat floods your insides even more than before.
“Cool.” There’s a pause as Pope flushes and turns on the sink. “I think I’m gonna ask Y/N out.” Pope announces, making your heart sink as you both stare at each other wide eyed. Oh no.
“Really?” JJ chokes out, looking down to where his cum covered cock is moving in and out of your wrecked pussy.
“Yea. I’ll see you in the morning.” Then the door shuts and you nearly collapse into JJ’s arms as he begins to move harder and faster.
This couldn’t be happening. Not Pope.
The look on JJ’s face told you he wasn’t happy about this either but the need for release was greater than tomorrow’s problems so he kissed you hard as you came again, pushing all thought of Pope and the Pogues to the side.. for now.
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Text
Listen to me cuz this has me up and dripping at 2:26am. Having someone use my oral fixation to their advantage.
Me being on my knees looking up to them with drool down my chin as they keep working their fingers in and out of my mouth. They play with my tongue, my teeth, their fingers just roaming freely. When they’re done they decide to blind fold me and then man girl handle me throwing me in bed laying facing up, close to the edge, my head almost dangling. Me laying there all wiggly. Knees apparently too close… they ask me “What’s wrong babygirl, what are you hiding?” As they force my legs open to see how dripping wet I am. “Well, would you look at that. Just as expected… you love so much being treated like the pretty little toy you are, huh?” I can barely say anything, just whimpering at their touch, nodding and moving my hips up and down as they slap my pussy making me whine in pleasure.
They leave me there for a bit… It gets quiet… only thing loud is my mind all excited wondering what are they looking for, what are they going to do to me, ugh! Finally I feel them caressing my face. Their electric touch giving me tingles down my whole body. They run their hands slowly from my face, down my neck, stopping and groping at my tits, tracing my belly and finally landing where i missed them the most. This time, they didn’t need to force my legs open since they were automatically spreading out as their hands made their way down. I feel them sitting by my side. I can suddenly feel their mouth on my tits giving them small kisses…Almost simultaneously…they slide their fingers inside me feeling how easy they slipped in as they suck on my nipples and play with their tongue on them. I can’t help it but moan to their touch. Rough but gentle. Just a perfect combination. Fingers curling up inside me, tits getting sucked… fuck! What else?!
They get up and stand right in front of my face. Grabbing it and making me open wide as they give small slaps on my cheeks so i can stay focus. I can’t help but smirk at this cuz they know how much I am enjoying this. I think my wetness is enough evidence for that. Finally they lean closer and I can feel something poking at my face. Without being asked to, or guided to, my mouth is wide open trying to catch their strap in my mouth. So, so hungry for them. Finally my tongue can feel it sliding in and out slowly. Feeling them leaning closer to me, placing one hand on my waist and curling their fingers in my cunt at once as they pick up the pace at face-fucking me. I don’t even care if my gag reflex tries to act up… I will do my best to be the most perfect toy for them.
You are telling me that I get to cum while having my mouth fucked over and over and my hole full with their fingers?! Or maybe not… maybe they decide to edge me and make me extra desperate for their strap to be filling me up instead… or what if they pull out completely leaving me all spread out in bed drool down my face, pussy empty and drenched while they just lean on the door frame looking at their messy artwork. What would you do next?
3:26am
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yan-lorkai · 3 days
Note
"Hello Lorkai! I've got an idea for a headcanon and would like to request it!
Yan!Idia (maybe with platonic Yan!Ortho too if you like) with an extroverted male reader who somehow gets placed in Ignihyde Dorm by the dark mirror (students from other dorms like to joking about the dark mirror putting him in the wrong dorm or something). The reader kinda becomes the mom friend of the dorm, always helping and taking care of everyone, assisting Idia with his Housewarden's work, you know, like the friend who orders food for their shy friends. Thank you very much <3
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.⁠。⁠*⁠♡ A/N: Uh... I've might misread the fact that you wanted headcanons. And so I did hcs and a few little drabble 🥺.
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.⁠。⁠*⁠♡ You are Ignyhide's mom figure, fixing everyone's hair and shirt. Everyone know that whoever is sorted into this dorm is somewhat of an introvert or ambivert. You, though, is an extrovert. You can talk freely, you know how to make friends and enjoy helping others around the campus. Yet, the others don't have this same capacity. And they need someone to take care of them, whence the title of mom, which was just a joke but slowly spread thought Ignyhide completely.
.⁠。⁠*⁠♡ Idia was the most difficult person for you to get closer. He just seems to push away anyone that tried without even realizing but you persisted till you make friends with his brother and him. Taking care of Idia though... Sure, it's difficult sometimes.
"Let's go, Idiiiiiiia!” You tried to pull the antisocial Ignyhide dorm leader out of his bed, wanting to take him outside to sunbathe and eat in the canteen. You've been trying for a while now. Sometimes Idia was a lot like a younger brother to you. Stubborn, obstinate. His hair burning bright in a frightful color as you pulled him and he pushed you.
"Do you hate me, Yuu-shi? I didn't do anything wrong." Idia threw himself to the ground, a scream of pure terror escaping his throat as he struggled against you.
"Listen, either you walk out that door of your own free will or I'm going to throw you over my shoulders and we're going to leave the same way." You threatened him. You had tried every tactic you had on your sleeve today and still none of them were working. Regardless, he felt light enough for you to carry around.
"Yuu-shi wouldn't dare." Idia murmured back, he tried to sound confident and sure of what he is saying.
Yet he didn't stop you from pulling him to his feet this time, even though his legs were visibly tense and he had an annoying expression on his face. Idia knew that you meant what you said. And he wouldn't survive a day if someone saw you carrying him around. His shame would be too big to bear. He would be dead by the end of the night if that was to happen.
He gave you the best puppy dog eyes he could muster, but it was of little use. You opened the door for him and offered him a soft smile, trying to ease all the fear and anxiety he felt. Still, you had good intentions when trying to bring him out of his shell. There was tons of people you want him to meet, tons of things you wanted to do with him, outside from his room where you usually spent your free time. Without talking with him through a floating tablet.
You were working to make him realize that it was not healthy to stay cupped inside of his room all day. It was a slow process but in a few months, you know he'll be fine making phone calls and sending emails.
"C'mon, dude. We don't have all day." You teased him a little, watching him fumbling. He squeaked, hands founding yours to hold, to ground him, cold finger lacing with yours.
Idia didn't like this idea at all. There was so much that he could do at his room. Gaming, bing watching something, reading, studying. So why he have to abandon the comfort of his room?
He wanted to ask your intentions. But you are a mischievous guy, always so secretive, only the sevens may know what passed through your mind this week. Either way, Idia doubt that you would tell him where you're going or why. Sighed, he followed you outside.
.⁠。⁠*⁠♡ No matter how difficult he was, Idia was still your best friend. Your brother, if you will. Nobody could see one without the other nearby, even if most of the time it was just you and his floating tablet. It was a sweet friendship, most thought. And Idia deserved it. As did Ortho, the young robot was so funny to have around and he was as curious as a child, always asking you questions, even if he could have his answers with a snap of his fingers.
.⁠。⁠*⁠♡ While you make friends with Idia because you noticed how lonely he was, Ortho just latched onto you when he realized what you were trying to do, helping you in your mission to be Idia's friend. He was like a younger sibling, following you around, sometimes messing with your homework or phone for fun. He was mischievous. And you could never get angry at him because of his very cute puppy eyes. Often times, though, he includes you on his pranks.
"How things going, Yuu-shi?" Idia asked, voice tired and dark circles under his eyes as he stared at his computer. He knew it was you just by the sounds of your footsteps on the carpet.
Ortho programs are special, designed by Idia himself. They are not supposed to malfunction but sometimes errors happen and this is one of those times. Idia told you he would pull an all nighter so he could fix his brother and you, like the good friend you are, scold him for losing sleep. Yet, you brought with you some snacks and soft drinks, and you got to work with him.
The panel located on Ortho's chest glowed red, emitting a high-pitched sound that broke any and all silence that might exist, in addition to Idia's heavy breathing. You knew how to fix Ortho, you'd seen him do it a thousand times.
"I don't think that it's a systemic error, pass me the screwdriver so I can see something, Idia." Idia mumbled something, drinking one of your drinks as he lent you a screwdriver so you could taste your theory before turning back to his computer and start typing something again, running another bunch of tests.
"Be careful!" He advised. You huffed, of course, you were going to be careful.
You slowly began to unscrew the nails holding the panel in place, carefully placing it on the bed next to you. You observed all those wires and pieces, the fire on his chest burning even brighter now, you tried to remember for what which wire was for. Ignyhide was after all known to raise students to be the best in mechanics.
"Actually everything's normal," You murmured to Idia, there was nothing wrong with Ortho that you could see. Red light still emanating from somewhere below his artificial heart. "C'mere and help me, Idiaaa."
The older Shroud laughed at your tone but he complied, crouching down by your side. "Let's see..." Just as Idia reached out to inspect Ortho’s chest panel, the younger Shroud's eyes suddenly lit up, glowing a vivid yellow.
His previously limp body jerked upright and his voice, eerily robotic, boomed through the room: "Error 375, host unable to respond, initiating reboot sequence."
Idia yelped and practically jumped out of his skin, scrambling backward in a flurry of blue flames, his ears hurting from loud Ortho's announcement was. "W-what, error 375, what even is that? Ortho? What did you do?" He stammered, looking between you and Ortho in sheer disbelief, lost.
Then, just as suddenly, Ortho broke into his usual chipper grin. "Just kidding, Nii-san!" The younger Shroud chirped, a playful glint in his eyes. "Got you!"
Idia’s expression was a mix of shock and exasperation, his face and hair bright red from embarrassment. "You little—!"
Ortho giggled innocently, while you couldn’t help but burst into laughter. The prank had been a success.
.⁠。⁠*⁠♡ Aside from moments like that, you also help them with simple things, helping Idia with his dorm leader's duties in general, and playing with Ortho, helping them with laundry and making breakfast. And when you three go out to buy things or something, you always team up with Ortho to tease Idia. It's funny.
.⁠。⁠*⁠♡ You and Ortho incentives Idia to be more sociable, though that's still not possible so often you three just spend time on the gardens or somewhere more secluded. At least, Idia can leave his room if you and his brother are by his side the entire time. He still have a long way to go to overcome his shyness but you're proud of him and you let him know at every opportunity.
.⁠。⁠*⁠♡ It's common for you for you to order for you and Idia but if you're tired or unwell, Idia will crawl from his shell and stutter out your favorite order. It's the only time he'll try for real to overcome his fear of talking to other people.
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sencrose · 4 hours
Text
— READING BETWEEN THE LINES
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pairing: suguru geto x f!reader
tags: dc, noncon, fingering, forced orgasm, pwp, use of pet names (sweetheart), suguru being condescending lol
wc: 1.4k
summary: Breaking up with Suguru doesn't go as well as you had hoped.
a/n: idk what possessed me ngl! writing warmup that got out of hand ig lol. dividers by @/adornedwithlight! ao3 link here.
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This is always the worst part, the anticipation of the unknown. You dragged Suguru into a private corner of the monastery, stating that you needed to talk to him about something important. Part of you hopes he won’t notice that something is clouding your mind, but another part of you knows how perceptive he can be – of shifting eyes, a nervous shake of the leg. Anything he sees can be interpreted and used against you. It’s just too much for you, to constantly live under his judgment and surveillance.
Once inside the room, you ask Suguru to sit down in an armchair in the corner, because when he’s at a lower height you can convince yourself he’s not nearly as intimidating as he actually is. He almost looks normal when you look down at him. But then his amber eyes catch yours, and you feel like a deer in headlights.
Breath, hold, let it out slowly.
“I think we should see other people,” you say, nearly hushed.
Suguru takes a moment to pause, before looking up at you with a smile. It’s not the reaction you wanted.
“You think?” he asks, a teasing lilt to his voice, “you wouldn’t do all of this to tell me you’re thinking of doing something.”
He’s right; you don’t like that. It only makes you uneasier, inhale shakily and exhale just as unstable.
“We should see other people,” you sigh, a knot tightening in your chest. You can’t bring yourself to look at him, opting to stare down at the ornate patterns on the carpet, anywhere but him.
“Where’s your spirit?” he asks, pouting and high-pitched, as if he’s talking down to a child, “you sound horribly unconvincing.”
You were foolish to ever think you would have an advantage against Suguru in a war of words. He’s always a few steps ahead of you, quick to retort any thought that takes days for you to mold and craft. Still, you do your best. This would be the last time anyways.
“W-we should see other people,” you repeat, attempting to sound resolute only for your voice to betray you, wavering like a tree branch in a windstorm.
“We both see plenty of people here,” he says, leaning back into the chair to sink into the fabric, his posture even more relaxed than before, “I don’t see why you dragged me in here to say this.”
For the first time, frustration overwhelms your nerves, swirls in your chest and manifests into something loud and impulsive.
“Suguru, I’m breaking up with you,” you blurt out. 
An uneasy silence permeates through the room, and you feel the need to smother it. Unfortunately, any semblance of a coherent thought, much less a sentence, eludes you.
“Tell me what you really want.” Suguru says, the first to break it. You start to think the silence was better.
“I am.”
“No, you aren’t. I know you aren’t,” he says so matter-of-factly you’re close to believing him, “say it again.” Suguru shifts in the seat until he’s leaning forward, hands intertwined and planted in his lap.
“N-No, you’re just messing with me,” you say, backing away from him.
“That should be my line,” he sighs, standing from his seat. He takes a step towards you and your heart trembles. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong, I just-”
“Nothing’s wrong but you want to break up?” he interrupts, crossing his arms as he glares at you.
“No, I mean-” you fumble your words, unsure how to mitigate the situation. Suguru takes another step towards you, and you take another one back.
“Mean what?” The corners of his lips upturn, and you both know he has you cornered.
You stand there, finally at a loss for words. Even if you were able to articulate your thoughts, you know that Suguru would twist them in his favor. 
“See? You don’t even know what you want,” he says, condescension dripping from his words before he softens his tone into something gentler. The way you would speak to a wounded animal. “But it’s okay, because I do.”
Suguru takes the opportunity to close the distance, taking your hand into his and pulling you into a kiss. His lips crash into yours and you writhe under his touch, desperately pushing him away. But all you get is an arm latched around your waist, the sensation of your bodies pressed together in a suffocating heat. His lips finally part from yours, and you rush to turn your face away from his.
“Suguru, please stop,” you whimper.
“Why? You’ll just lie again,” he answers, his hand reaching for your chin to turn you towards him, “don’t you know how much that hurts me?” he asks, voice too sweet to be genuine.
You do your best to keep your eyes away from him, the only form of protest you can afford right now. He’s unphased by it, releasing his grip on your chin to lift the hem of your skirt and trace the undeniable wet spot on your underwear.
“And it seems like your body is more honest than your words,” he whispers dangerously low in your ear, as if it’s a dirty secret he had the privilege of uncovering. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction but you don’t have much of a choice. 
He pulls your underwear down, lets it fall unceremoniously onto the floor. Before long, his fingers find your clit and you wince at the contact. You bite down on your lips when he starts drawing lazy circles, not wanting to give him any more ammunition to use against you. 
“You don’t actually want to leave, do you?” he whispers sweetly, and it makes your breath catch for all the wrong reasons. His fingers slowly but surely pick up the pace, and it gets harder to choke back your moans. You attempt to maneuver yourself away from his touch, but that only makes him press himself harder against you, tightening his grip against your waist. 
“You’re just misbehaving because I haven’t given you enough attention, right? Then I’ll give you all the attention you want.”
“Suguru, please, I don’t want this,” you cry, and it’s nowhere close to convincing, too high-pitched and whiny.
“We’ve got to work on your communication skills, sweetheart. They’re a hallmark of a good relationship, you know. And I only want the best with you,” he coos, almost songlike. His fingers build up to a steady pace and you feel your muscles involuntarily tighten, prepare yourself for the climax to come. 
“We can even try it now. Tell me, how does this feel?” He slips a finger in and you writhe under his grip.
“Suguru, stop!” you squeal, tears forming in your eyes, making the colors of the room blend and blur together. 
“Don’t think that’s the right answer,” he says in that patronizing tone again, and you can hear the pout in his voice. As punishment he slips in another finger, and within moments he’s bullying the spot that has you crying from pleasure like he’s done so many times before. Your fingers grip around his arm, nails digging into his skin and leaving crescent indents in his skin, but Suguru is nothing if not determined.
“I just don’t see why you’d want to leave when I do all of this for you.” The arm around your waist finally releases, only for his other hand to trace the curves of your body until it reaches your clit. He starts building the pressure again, slow circles to contrast against the rapid pace of his fingers.
Your breathing destabilizes as your muscles tense up again against your will. You know you’re getting close, which means Suguru knows as well. 
“Let it all out for me, sweetheart,” And you do, body shivering and walls clamping around his finger like a vice. The rush of heat and pleasure running through you is too much, and you fall back onto old habits, closing your eyes and moaning his name like a mantra as he guides you through your climax. Suguru only pulls himself out of you once your breathing stabilizes, when you finally come out of your postorgasmic daze and the tears start running down your cheeks.
He gently holds your face, rubbing the tears with his thumb before laying a soft kiss on your cheek.
“If this is what you wanted, you should’ve told me. Spare me the theatrics next time, okay?”
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linos-luna · 12 hours
Text
Cameras 🔪
Yandere!Han x Reader
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Warnings: YANDERE, violence, toxic behavior, manipulation, spying, 18+
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You sit at your desk, staring down at the open notebook, your fingers tracing its edges, but your mind is somewhere else. The house is quiet, a little too quiet, and that familiar, uneasy feeling creeps over you again. Lately, it’s like someone’s been watching you, even when you’re sure you’re alone.
You try to shake it off, just like you’ve done every other time, telling yourself it’s nothing. But deep down, you know it’s not just paranoia. The little things have been adding up. Your stuff is always out of place, your jewelry box lid half open, a photo frame slightly crooked. And Han… well, you had mentioned it to him once, but he brushed it off.
"You're stressed, Y/N," he had said with that charming smile. "You need to relax."
That smile you love. Now it just feels off.
Your eyes drift to your bedside lamp. Something flashes, just for a second, but you see it. You sit up, heart skipping a beat as you reach for the lamp. Unscrewing the lampshade, you freeze when you see it. A tiny, blinking red light. A camera.
What the hell??
Your pulse quickens as you stare at the small device in your hand. Why is there a camera here? Who put it here?
But you already know. You just don’t want to believe it.
Your breath comes in short gasps as you tear through your room. Behind the framed pictures, inside the air vents, even inside your stuffed bear. More cameras. Everywhere.
You feel sick. How long has this been happening? How much has Han seen?
Without thinking, you grab your phone and dial Han. The anger in your voice barely masks the fear. “Han, we need to talk. Now.”
It doesn’t take him long to show up. His face is full of concern—or is it something darker? You can’t tell anymore.
“What’s going on?” he asks, stepping inside like nothing’s wrong. Like he hasn’t been invading every second of your life.
You hold up the camera, your hand trembling. “Why are there cameras in my room?”
For a split second, something flickers in his eyes. And then, just like that, his mask drops. The concern fades, and what’s left makes your stomach twist.
“I did it to protect you,” he says softly, stepping closer. “You don’t understand. I need to know you’re safe.”
Your breath hitches in your throat. You want to scream, to cry, but all that comes out is cold, hard disbelief. "This isn’t protection, Han. This is control."
His eyes darken, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "You don’t get to walk away from me."
Your body tenses as he steps closer, too close. His hand shoots out, grabbing your wrist before you can react. Pain surges through your arm as his grip tightens.
“You’re mine, Y/N,” he growls, his breath hot against your face. “No one else will take care of you like I do. You don’t get to leave me.”
A wave of panic crashes over you, but underneath it, anger is building. You twist your wrist, trying to pull free, but his grip only tightens. The pressure makes your vision blur with tears.
“No, Han…” Your voice trembling with fury. “Y-you’re sick!”
Without thinking, you drive your knee up into his stomach, hard.
He lets out a grunt, doubling over just enough for you to yank your arm free. You stumble back, heart pounding, adrenaline flooding your system. But then Han straightens, his face twisting with rage.
Before you can react, his hand swings out, slapping you across the cheek. Pain stinging in your face, knocking you off balance. You crash into the dresser, books and other nicknacks scattering to the floor. Tears rolled down your cheeks as you whimpered a bit in pain.
He’s standing over you now, breathing heavily, his fists clenched, but then something shifts in his expression. His eyes soften, a flicker of regret passing over his face as he takes in your terrified look.
“Baby, I’m sorry!” Han pleads, his voice breaking. “Don’t cry, please! I-I didn’t mean to hurt you!”
The room spins as you force yourself up, your legs trembling beneath you. Your hand brushes against the dresser, and you grab the nearest thing, a heavy lamp. Without a second thought, you throw it at him.
It misses, crashing into the wall behind him, but Han still flinches, staggering back as he dodges. His eyes widen, and for a moment, you see hurt flicker there.
“Y/N? W-why are you trying to hurt me?” His voice trembles, and you pause, your heart pounding in your chest.
“You’re the one getting violent!” you shout, the words tearing from your throat.
For a split second, he looks like he’s about to cry, and something inside you twists painfully. He just stands there, staring at you with those sad, broken eyes, making your heart ache.
He’s manipulating you. You know it, you *know* it, but that pang of guilt creeps in anyway. You have to shake it off.
“Stop it, Han. It’s not working. Not this time.”
As soon as the words leave your mouth, the softness drains from his face. The mask drops, revealing the cold, eerie calm underneath.
“Y/N…” he says, his voice unnervingly steady. “You know I love you. Everything I do is because I love you.” He takes a step closer, his eyes darkening. “And I’ll do anything for you.”
Han’s words hang in the air, thick and suffocating. His eerie calm sends a chill down your spine, but your legs won’t move. His eyes bore into yours, dark and unwavering, and you realize with a sickening jolt that there’s no reasoning with him. He’s beyond that now.
You back up slowly, your heart pounding in your chest. “Han… stay away from me.”
But he doesn’t listen. Instead, he takes another step toward you, his voice lowering into something soft, almost tender. “I’m the only one who can protect you, Y/N. Don’t you see? No one else will love you the way I do.”
You feel the wall press against your back, cold and unyielding. There’s nowhere else to go.
“Please, Han,” you whisper, your voice trembling. “Don’t do this.”
For a moment, his face softens again, but you know it’s a lie, just like before. He closes the distance between you in two long strides, grabbing your arms and pinning you against the wall. His grip is bruising, his breath hot and uneven as he leans in, his eyes glinting with something dangerous.
“Why can’t you just be mine?” he whispers harshly, his fingers digging into your skin. “Why do you have to make this so hard?”
Panic surges through you, but your body feels frozen. You struggle against his hold, but he’s too strong. His hands move to your throat, not tightening, but just enough to make you realize how helpless you are in that moment.
Your vision blurs with tears as you gasp for air, your body trembling under his hold. This is it, you think. It’s the end. You close your eyes in defeat, bracing for the inevitable as his hands apply light pressure to your throat.
But then, just as quickly as it started, the pressure eases. You blink in confusion, feeling his grip loosen. When you open your eyes, Han’s expression has changed… his face etched with guilt, sadness pooling in his eyes.
“Baby…” he whispers softly, his hands still hovering at your throat, but no longer squeezing.
Your heart pounds in your chest as you watch him look down at his own hands, as if seeing them for the first time. Tears start to roll down his cheeks, silent and slow, before he suddenly pulls you into a tight embrace.
“I-I’m sorry…” he sobs, his voice breaking.
His arms wrap around you, almost crushing you against him, and the sudden shift feels jarring. You can hear him weeping, his breath catching between sobs. The warmth of his body, the way he clings to you, it's so different from the rage that had consumed him moments ago.
You stand frozen, your body still shaking, unsure of what to do. Was this another trick? Another way to manipulate you, to pull you back into his control? Or… was he actually genuine this time?
It was hard to tell, and that terrified you the most...
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sweetestlamb · 1 day
Text
I Wanna do Bad Things to You
Authors note: honestly I was losing interest a bit and the second couple still has me in a chokehold but today's episode ate devoured and licked the plate clean. I have a million things I need to do right now but I wrote this instead🤷🏾‍♀️💃🏾
None of his fantasies could have ever prepared him for the vision Seok-ryu makes breathing hard beneath him, her cheeks flushed and her lips swollen from their kissing.
Thoughts about her aren't new to him. Dirty thoughts about her are not new either. He's been locking his door since he first realized that his feelings for her were different from his feelings for Mo-eum.
He never dreamed about holding her hand, or kissing her or undressing her.
No. Those bad thoughts were reserved for one person and now she's under him staring up at him like she's having very similar thoughts and his thoughts are multiplying by the minute.
"What are you thinking about?"
'Giving you a hickie.'
But he only says that to himself in the safety of his mind because saying that out loud terrifies him and makes his palms too moist.
"Choiseung." She demands his attention again, as if he's not already too fixated on her.
"I'd.... rather not say." He whispers instead, leaning down to hide his face in the curve of her neck before he even realizes his mistake.
She grumbles underneath him but he melts at her hand settling in his hair, her fingers running through the thick strands. Nobody's ever caressed him like this before. He has the fight the moan that wants to escape.
"You're already breaking your promise."
That gets his attention and he shifts away, pining her with her eyes.
"What? What do you mean? What did I do?" He wants to fix whatever it is immediately, he can't handle another argument with her his heart felt like it would burst.
She seems stunned by his seriousness before she collects herself, "You said you wouldn't hide anything from me again. I want to know what you're thinking, whatever is making you look at me like that."
"Like what?"
"Like you're starving."
Her and these food analogies. But she's not wrong, he feels like he has been starving for years waiting, longing and wishing. Starved for her attention, her favour and her love.
"I'm hungry."
His eyes widen at the sudden announcement especially considering that they just ate, but maybe he can go outside and see if the store is still open and get her something to--
"Where are you going?" She huffs at him as he tries to detangle their limbs.
"You said that you're hun-
"Are you a virgin?"
He freezes and his brain short circuits before he can remind his lungs how to work and breathe again.
"Are you insane why would you ask me that?!"
"Woah. Look how red you got! Am I right? You're a virgin? Am I going to be your first?"
He stares at her slack mouthed before his competitiveness kicks in, she's always been the one to bring this petty immature side out of him.
Far too easily he grips both of her wrists in his hand and pins her hands to the bed over her head. She flails in his tight grip but he watches with fascination as her cheeks pinken and her eyes dilute.
Interesting.
"My first what? Are you offering Seok-ryu? Do you want it that badly?"
His nerves are still there but the desire to put her in her place overrides it momentarily.
But instead of arguing like she's supposed, like they've both been doing for years she zigs when he expects her to zag.
"What if I do? You're my boyfriend. Aren't I suppose to want you?" She stares back with open defiance, only she could make such a confession sound so aggressive.
"Seok-ryu..."
"I don't want to talk. Do I have to spell it out? I want you to -"
His lips slam into hers with a wet smack and he almost groans at how easily she opens up for him, kissing him back as if she's the one that's been pining for years. As if she wants him half as much as he wants her.
He jolts when her legs wrap around his waist, his hold on her wrists loosening for a moment.
When he can't resist the urge to grind into her heat he forces himself to pull away. They need to slow down this is...too much. Too fast.
"We should stop."
But that seems to be the last thing on her mind.
Instead she frees her hands and shoves them up his shirt, his stomach tightens at her touch and this time he isn't quick enough to swallow his reaction.
"Hey Seung-hyo when did you get abs? Is that why you think you can boss me around because you got some muscles?"
"You can't just touch me like that." She raises an eyebrow at his exclamation, challenge clear in her eyes.
"Oh. Why not? Aren't you my man? Can't I touch you just like this and even worst? If I can't touch you like this then who can?"
His jaw drops at her assertion and at the possessiveness in her tone.
He refuses to leave any room for a misunderstanding this time.
"Nobody. Only you."
She avoids eye contact but he doesn't miss the smirk on her lips and that twinkle in her eyes.
"But if you touch me like that then I'm going to get thoughts....I don't want to take advantage of you."
Her laughter is instant and he's tired of feeling like a fish out of water, she's his woman. He is allowed to act like it. He's done holding himself back.
So he retightens his grip on her hands and leans down to press a firm kiss to her neck. Then he waits and her reaction is immediate, her body bends to meet him giving him free range to explore.
Without hesitation he preseses another kiss opening his mouth to taste her and she moans in response.
"More."
That sends blood rushing through his entire body.
He kisses her again and again until she's twisting beneath him but he's too strong for her to break his hold, he shouldn't like that so much.
"I want to give you a hickie."
There. He's said it and if she says no that's fine this is still more than he ever hoped for, more than he deserves honestly. It's greedy of him to even want for more.
"Then do it."
And this time he hold on her completely loosens and she wraps her hands around his neck and yanks him down again, pressing his face further into her neck with a quiet, "Mark me I want it."
He opens his mouth and sucks gently, teething at the thin skin there with the barest amount of pressure. He does it for a minute, lost in her scent and in her soft skin.
"Harder."
He hums into her neck in response, too enthralled to move away for even a second.
"You need to do it harder to leave a mark."
He ignores the tinge of jealousy that flares up at her obvious expertise, she's here with him now that's all that matters.
And he obeys her, open his mouth wider and sucking harder even biting at the last minute and he almost pulls away at her soft shout but she tightens her arms around him refusing to left him go.
"I'm fine you just surprised me. But I like it. I like everything you do to me. Don't stop."
He feels like he's drowning in his own pent up desires.
But he continues to suck and bite and lick at her skin before he realizes that his hips have been moving of their own accord, each gasp from her lips feels him leaving lightheaded and wound up too tight.
He needs to stop before it's too late.
The hickie is huge and red, he realizes that he might have overdone it especially with them trying to hide their relationship.
She's going to kill him.
"How is it? Are you proud of yourself?" She teases him and he can't deny that he loves seeing his mark on her, loves that she trusted him enough to let him do that.
"Who knew you were so possessive?"
He bristles at her taunting tone, "Like you're any better? What did you call me your ma-"
"Hey! Shut up, don't repeat the things I say in the heat of the moment that's embarrassing!"
And this time she pushes him away, and he lets her flopping onto her bed.
"I'm going to check out my hickie, see how much concealer I need to cover it."
And that has him bolting up in the bed, "Wait a second Seok-ryu!"
But he's too late and he watches her eyes flare with anger as she touches the large red mark on her neck in awed silence.
"It looks worst than it really is, it should fade by tomorrow I'm sure!" So similar to the words that she said to his crying six year old self and they both know how that turned out.
"I'm going to kill you!! What did you do to my beautiful neck? What are you a freaking vampire? I said mark me, not destroy my neck!"
And he jumps over the bed trying to get away from her and he can't help but laugh as she trips over her own feet trying to catch him.
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lowaltitude · 2 days
Text
Dial Tone 2 | Matt Rempe
- NHL, New York Rangers - x Reader
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❪ FEM! ❫
───── ❝ description + disclaimer ❞ ─────
𖥻 Matthew Rempe x FEM!reader, in which a wrong number friendship is more than you'd hope for. OR he falls first, he falls hard, he's NYC's biggest enforcer.
𖥻 PART ONE HERE. 3.6k words
───── ❝ ❞ ─────
I could barely contain my excitement as I sat in the bustling airport with my classmates, waiting for our flight to New York. My leg bounced with nervous energy, and I couldn’t stop smiling. I had been looking forward to this day for weeks, but now that it was finally here, the anticipation was almost too much to handle.
“Someone’s in a good mood,” my friend Lauren teased, nudging me with her elbow as she sipped on her overpriced airport coffee.
“I can’t help it,” I said, grinning from ear to ear. “We’re going to New York!”
“Yeah, but you look like you’ve just won the lottery or something,” she laughed, raising an eyebrow. “What’s got you so giddy?”
I bit my lip, trying to tone down my excitement. I couldn’t exactly tell her about Manhattan, about how I was going to surprise him by being in his city. The thought alone made me feel like a giddy schoolgirl with a crush.
“I guess I’m just excited to finally see the city,” I said, half-truthfully. “I’ve always wanted to go.”
“Well, it’s going to be amazing,” Lauren agreed, leaning back in her seat. “I can’t wait to explore. Have you got any plans for when we’re not at the conference?”
“Not really,” I lied. “I figured I’d just wander around, see where the city takes me.”
In reality, I had been meticulously planning out my free time, making sure I’d have the chance to visit some of the places Manhattan had mentioned in our conversations. Central Park, the Brooklyn Bridge, and maybe even that bagel place he’d raved about. But I wasn’t going to tell Lauren all of that. Not yet.
As we waited to board, my phone buzzed with a message from Manhattan. I glanced at the screen, my heart doing a little flip as I saw his name pop up.
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Wednesday, May 29, 2024Today, 10:17 AM MANHATTAN: What are you up to today, San Diego?
I couldn’t help but smile as I typed out my response, the excitement of the trip making it hard to keep the secret.
ME: Just hanging out, nothing too crazy. How about you? :) MANHATTAN: Same here, just getting ready for another big game. A little exciting. What’s got you in such a good mood today?
He knew me too well. I hesitated for a moment, debating whether to drop a hint or keep the surprise going.
ME: Let’s just say I’ve got something fun planned. I’ll tell you all about it later. MANHATTAN: You’re killing me with suspense here, San Diego. Now I’m curious.
I chuckled, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves as I imagined his reaction when I finally told him—or when I maybe even bumped into him in his own city.
ME: Patience, Manhattan. You’ll find out soon enough. MANHATTAN: I guess I don’t have a choice. Just don’t keep me waiting too long.
I tucked my phone back into my bag, my smile refusing to fade. This trip was going to be unforgettable, and not just because of the conference. I could hardly wait to step off the plane and onto New York soil, knowing that Manhattan had no idea what was coming.
“Alright, they’re boarding our flight,” Lauren said, standing up and grabbing her bag. “You ready?”
“More than ready,” I said, grabbing my own bag and following her to the gate, my heart racing with anticipation. New York, here I come.
As the plane descended into New York, my excitement was at an all-time high. I couldn’t wait to explore the city, but more than that, I couldn’t wait to surprise Manhattan. The plan was simple: I’d head to his college, catch one of his hockey games, and finally meet him in person. I could already picture the look on his face when he saw me there.
After dropping my bags off at the hotel and freshening up, I decided to send him a quick message. I needed to get some information without giving away my plan.
ME: Hey, how’s hockey going? My friend is heading to New York soon, and I was thinking maybe she could grab me a hoodie from your college. ME: Which college do you go to again?
I stared at my phone, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement as I watched the typing bubble appear. I wondered if he’d catch on to what I was trying to do, but he probably thought I was just being curious.
The typing bubble kept appearing and disappearing, and I felt my anticipation build. What was taking him so long?
Finally, his message came through.
MANHATTAN: Long Island University. Let’s go Sharks! 🦈
I smiled to myself, mentally filing away the information. LIU. Perfect. Now I just needed to find out when their next game was and how to get there. The idea of seeing him in action, playing the sport he was so passionate about, made me even more excited.
ME: Cool! I’ll definitely ask her to grab me one. LIU sounds like a great school. MANHATTAN: It is. I’m really enjoying it here. Hockey’s been great too.
I leaned back in my seat, feeling a rush of excitement. Everything was falling into place. In just a few days, I’d be at LIU, watching him play, and he had no idea what was coming.
ME: Glad to hear it! Maybe one day I’ll get to see you play in person. MANHATTAN: I’d like that. But for now, you’ll just have to settle for the hoodie 😉
I laughed, feeling a surge of anticipation. He had no idea that “one day” was much sooner than he thought.
ME: I guess I will. But who knows what the future holds? MANHATTAN: True. The future’s full of surprises.
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I couldn’t agree more. Little did he know, the biggest surprise was about to come his way. I tucked my phone away, feeling more determined than ever. Tomorrow, I’d make my way to LIU, ready to see Manhattan in his element. This trip was turning out to be more thrilling than I’d ever imagined.
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The next morning, I woke up early, my heart racing with anticipation. Today was the day I’d finally see Manhattan play hockey. After a quick breakfast with my classmates, I made up an excuse about needing some time alone to explore the city. They didn’t ask too many questions, which was a relief. I wasn’t sure how I’d explain that I was sneaking off to surprise a guy I’d never actually met in person.
With my bag slung over my shoulder, I set off toward Long Island University. The city buzzed with energy as I navigated the subway system, and I could hardly keep still as I imagined what the game would be like. What would he look like on the ice? Would I recognize him immediately?
When I finally arrived at LIU’s campus, I felt a rush of excitement. The rink was larger than I expected, and the atmosphere was alive with the buzz of college sports. I spotted a few people in Sharks gear and made a mental note to grab a hoodie later—something to remember this day by.
Just as I was about to head inside, my phone buzzed with a message from Manhattan.
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Thursday, May 30, 2024Today, 9:00 AM MANHATTAN: What are you up to today?
I hesitated for a moment, torn between keeping the surprise and telling him something closer to the truth.
ME: Just wandering around, checking out some new places. You? MANHATTAN: Nothing too exciting, just got some practice. Gotta stay sharp for the game tomorrow.
My heart skipped a beat. If he was heading to practice, that meant he’d be at the rink soon. I grinned, feeling like everything was falling perfectly into place.
ME: Busy day for you then. Good luck with practice!
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I tucked my phone away and stepped into the rink. The cool air hit me immediately, a stark contrast to the warm, bustling city outside. I found a seat near the middle, close enough to see the action but far enough to stay somewhat hidden. The rink was buzzing with the energy of casual practice, but I didn’t see anyone who looked like Manhattan.
Confused, I glanced at my phone again, but decided to focus on enjoying the moment. Maybe everything would still work out.
As the few players on the ice began to pack up, I couldn't contain my curiosity any longer. With a mix of nerves and excitement, I made my way down to the edge of the rink where the three boys were gathering their gear. They looked friendly enough, chatting and laughing as they peeled off their jerseys.
"Hi there," I greeted them tentatively, hoping not to intrude.
"Hey," one of them replied with a smile, while another gave a nod in acknowledgment.
Feeling a bit bolder, I held up the picture of Manhattan that I had saved on my phone. "Do you guys happen to know him?" I asked, trying to keep my voice casual.
The boy closest to me glanced at the picture and furrowed his brow. "Is this a test, or a bad joke?" he replied, a hint of confusion in his voice.
I blinked, taken aback by his reaction. "No, not at all," I said quickly. "He's a hockey player, right?"
The boy let out a chuckle, exchanging a glance with his teammate who rolled his eyes. "Yeah, he's a hockey player," he replied, his tone slightly mocking. With that, he skated off towards the locker rooms, his friend following close behind.
Left standing there, I turned to the last boy who was gathering his equipment. "Do you know where I can find him?" I asked, my voice tinged with disappointment.
He shrugged apologetically. "I don't know, maybe try MSG or something," he suggested, referring to Madison Square Garden. With that, he picked up his stick and followed his teammates off the ice, leaving me feeling confused and unsure of what to do next.
I stared after them for a moment, my heart sinking. Maybe this was a mistake after all.
Feeling disheartened and unsure of what had just transpired at the rink, I made my way back to the hotel. My mind was still spinning with confusion and disappointment over not finding any trace of Manhattan. As I walked through the lobby, Lauren immediately noticed something was off.
"What's wrong?" she asked, concern etched on her face.
I forced a smile, trying to brush off my disappointment. "Nothing, just tired," I replied vaguely.
To cheer me up, she leaned in conspiratorially. "Hey, you like hockey, right? There's some playoffs happening tomorrow, and apparently they're really shitty seats, but Professor Tenner says we can all go since it's included in the expo."
Her attempt to lift my spirits caught my attention. Playoffs sounded exciting, and even though I was still reeling from the day's events, the prospect of attending a hockey game in New York City was enticing, even if it wasn't one of Manhattan's games like I'd hoped.
"Really?" I perked up, feeling a glimmer of excitement return. "That sounds like fun. I could use a distraction."
She nodded eagerly. "Exactly! We'll forget about everything and just enjoy the game."
I nodded in agreement, grateful for her effort to turn things around. Perhaps the disappointment of today would fade with the thrill of tomorrow's game.
───── ❝ ❞ ─────
As we rode the subway towards Madison Square Garden, the excitement of the upcoming hockey playoffs managed to distract me momentarily from the strange encounter at LIU's rink earlier. The subway car was filled with fans dressed in jerseys, hats, and scarves, all buzzing with anticipation for the game. It was contagious, and I couldn't help but smile as I saw the neon signs outside the arena proclaiming, "NEW YORK RANGERS VS FLORIDA PANTHERS, 2-2 TIED SERIES."
Glancing at my phone, I noticed several unread messages from Manhattan. They started off flirty, but the last few were increasingly concerned:
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Friday, May 31, 2024Today, 7:00 PM MANHATTAN: Made my sister take this so you can see how hard it is being so tall and attractive
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MANHATTAN: Hey, haven't heard from you all day. Everything okay? ❤️ MANHATTAN: Did something happen? You're acting weird. MANHATTAN: Seriously, just let me know you're okay. MANHATTAN: San Diego??? MANHATTAN: I'm starting to get worried now. Please, just tell me what's going on.
Each message tugged at my conscience, but right now, with the game looming ahead and the vibrant energy of the city around me, I couldn't bring myself to reply. Turning off my phone, I focused on the lively scene outside as we emerged from the subway. Madison Square Garden towered above us, its exterior adorned with banners and flags of the Rangers. The atmosphere was electric, filled with the chatter of excited fans and vendors selling snacks and memorabilia.
My friend nudged me excitedly. "This is going to be awesome," she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.
I nodded, a surge of anticipation building within me. Stepping into the bustling concourse of the arena, I marveled at the sea of blue and red jerseys, each person radiating their team pride. It was infectious, and I found myself caught up in the excitement of being part of such a passionate crowd.
Finding our seats, I couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt for not responding to Manhattan's messages. I promised myself I would explain everything later, after the game. Right now, I needed to immerse myself in the thrill of playoff hockey and enjoy this unforgettable experience in the heart of New York City.
Just before the game began, one last text came in from Manhattan. The notification popped up on my screen, and I couldn't ignore it any longer:
MANHATTAN: Starting to think I messed things up. Please talk to me. I have to go, but PLEASE tell me you're okay.
The urgency in his message was palpable, and it weighed heavily on my mind. I knew I owed him an explanation, but right now, surrounded by the anticipation of the playoff game at Madison Square Garden, I couldn't find the words to reply.
My friend noticed my troubled expression and gently asked, "Everything okay?"
I hesitated for a moment, torn between the excitement of the moment and the guilt of leaving Manhattan hanging. "Yeah, just some stuff going on," I replied vaguely, hoping she wouldn't press further.
She nodded understandingly, sensing my reluctance to talk about it. "Well, let's focus on the game. It's going to be amazing!"
I managed a small smile, grateful for her distraction. As the national anthem played and the teams took the ice, the crowd erupted into cheers. The energy of the arena was infectious, and I found myself swept up in the excitement despite my lingering worries about Manhattan.
As the players came out and the game began, the atmosphere inside Madison Square Garden was electric. The puck dropped, and the game progressed smoothly until midway through the second period. Number 73, newly on the ice, was skating hard when suddenly, number 91 from the opposing team delivered a hard hit. The crowd erupted into shouts and boos as the large screen replayed the hit, the referees finally calling a penalty.
In the midst of the chaos, the camera panned back to the live action, focusing on New York Rangers' number 73 as he removed his helmet. And there he was—Manhattan.
My heart skipped a beat as I watched him on the screen, his presence confirming that the mystery friend who had been texting me was indeed using a picture of Matt Rempe. Confusion and disbelief flooded my mind. Had I been lied to this whole time? Was this some elaborate prank or misunderstanding?
As Manhattan skated off the ice, I felt a mix of emotions—surprise, disappointment, and a tinge of betrayal. The crowd's cheers and the game's intensity became distant background noise as I tried to process everything. The realization that Manhattan was real and here, playing hockey in front of me, collided with the unsettling feeling that someone had deceived me.
I glanced at my friend beside me, who was still cheering enthusiastically for the Rangers. She turned to me with a bright smile. "This is amazing, right?"
"Yeah," I managed to reply, forcing a smile while my mind raced with unanswered questions.
As the game continued, I couldn't tear my eyes away from Manhattan on the ice. Despite the whirlwind of emotions, one thing was clear—there was much more to this story than I had ever imagined.
On the way out of the game, the crowd slowly dispersing around us, I couldn't shake the feeling of betrayal and confusion. I pulled out my phone and hesitated for a moment before typing out a message to Manhattan.
ME: So, was this all just a joke? Using someone else's photos to pretend to be someone you're not?
The message hung in the air, my thumb hovering over the send button. I felt a mix of anger and hurt, wanting desperately for there to be some explanation that would make sense of everything. But as the seconds ticked by, doubts crept in. What if I had been naive to believe in this connection all along?
My friend glanced over at me, sensing my unease. "You okay?" she asked gently.
I forced a smile, trying to mask the turmoil inside. "Yeah, just… something came up," I replied vaguely, my voice betraying my uncertainty.
Finally, I pressed send, the message disappearing into the digital abyss. As we made our way through the bustling streets of New York City, I couldn't shake the sinking feeling that the person I thought I knew as Manhattan might not be who he claimed to be after all.
The crowd outside Madison Square Garden buzzed with post-game energy, but my focus was solely on my phone, waiting for Manhattan’s reply. The seconds dragged on before my screen lit up with his response.
MANHATTAN: What? A joke? What are you talking about?
I clenched my jaw, frustrated by his confusion. How could he not understand?
ME: I saw you. Or, I guess I saw the real you. You’ve been sending me photos of a hockey player this whole time, pretending it was you. Matt Rempe. Ring a bell?
I hit send, my emotions swirling between hurt and anger. Was this his way of getting a laugh? Why string me along like this?
His response came quickly this time.
MANHATTAN: Wait, what? I didn’t lie to you, I swear. I don’t even know what you’re talking about.
I scoffed at my phone. Was he really going to keep this act up?
ME: You sent me his photo. Matt Rempe. Number 73 for the Rangers. I saw him on the ice tonight.
My hands were shaking slightly as I typed, overwhelmed by everything. How could he keep denying it when I’d literally just seen Matt?
There was a longer pause before his next message.
MANHATTAN: I didn’t lie. I never pretended to be someone else. I’m really confused right now. How did you… how did you see me?
My breath caught. Why did he sound so genuine? My mind scrambled to piece it together. How could he not know that I’d seen the very guy whose pictures he’d been sending? It didn’t make sense.
I typed again, my heart pounding.
ME: I saw him play. I was at the Rangers game tonight. You’ve been using his pictures this whole time, and now I feel like an idiot for believing you.
There was another long pause, and I could imagine him, wherever he was, sitting there trying to figure out what had just happened.
The longer I waited, the more the knot in my stomach tightened. Finally, my phone buzzed again with his reply.
MANHATTAN: I’m so confused. How did you end up at a Rangers game? I never sent you anyone else’s photos. I swear. I don’t even know what’s going on right now. ME: I came here for a school trip. I wanted to surprise you, so I went to what you told me was your University yesterday to see you play hockey. I thought it’d be this cute moment, but you weren’t there. Some guys at the rink acted weird when I asked about you, and I couldn’t figure it out. Then today, at the game, I saw Matt Rempe... The guy in the photos you’ve been sending me. MANHATTAN: Wait. You’re in New York? You went looking for me??? MANHATTAN: Okay, this is all a big misunderstanding, and I need you to believe me. I’m not lying. I am Matt Rempe. ME: No, you're not. Stop it. If this is your way of messing with me, just admit it. Why would you pretend to be someone like him? You think I wouldn’t find out? MANHATTAN: I’m not pretending. I didn’t want to lie to you, but I also didn’t want to throw all that stuff at you so fast. I’m sorry if it feels like I’ve been hiding things, but I wasn’t trying to trick you. I swear. ME: So what, you’re just Matt Rempe all of a sudden? I’m supposed to believe that you’re the guy I watched get slammed on the ice tonight? MANHATTAN: Yes. I wanted to tell you but we became friends and never stopped the little nickname thing, this isn’t how I wanted you to find out.
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I stared at the message, my head spinning. How could this be true? I couldn't wrap my mind around it.
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fen-luciel · 2 days
Text
Jealousy part 3
Part 1_2
Warnings: age gap/toxic behavior
Vernestra-Padawan reader/jedi Qimir
Leave a comment and share if you are enjoying the story.
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It was less than two days after that dinner that I confronted my master during one of her working nights.
I went to visit her late, the deserted hallways and dim lights guiding me as I made my way to one of the meeting rooms where I knew she would go when she needed a place to concentrate.
I had been tossing and turning for a long time in bed. Time passed as usual, yet it felt as if I had a clock ticking over my head. I could hear the ticking of the seconds, a countdown that kept me awake, though I couldn’t understand its end or meaning. Or rather, I suspected what was tormenting me... no.
I knew.
That acidic feeling twisting my stomach was tied to all those memories that kept replaying in my head, sweet memories that I felt were inevitably becoming more and more tainted every day. I had decided that I needed to take a break, some distance, to grow. And if I couldn’t manage that, then it would be ridiculous to complain about something I wasn’t trying to change myself.
So, I gathered my courage.
As soon as I left my room, I realized that Vernestra was not there. In the shared living room, there were still signs of her passage, like some books piled on the table, the chair moved, and the lamp turned off and left near the rest. Just to be sure, I checked her bedroom, but my suspicions were confirmed when I saw the bed still perfectly made.
I went out after putting a cloak over my pajamas. I knew exactly where she was when she needed her space to work, so I took the stairs to the lower floors.
It was late at night, the moonlight outside lighting my path even though it was mostly clear, given the simple and empty hallways of the Jedi Temple. From a distance, I saw the orange light under the door that I recognized well. I knocked a couple of times before opening it, knowing that just as I expected to see her there, she knew that only I would come looking for her. And indeed, when I stepped into the room, she didn’t even lift her eyes to look at me.
She was sitting at the center of the large oval table, numerous papers spread before her, with some secondary, warm-toned lights illuminating the table's surface. I closed the door behind me using the Force as I approached, sitting on the opposite side from her, the cloak wrapped tightly around my waist, the hood over my head to shield me from the light evening breeze coming through the cracked windows.
“Trouble sleeping?” she asked, breaking the silence that had surrounded us after a few minutes of my entrance.
Her eyes remained fixed on the papers she was reading and marking with a pen from time to time. I stared at her in silence, mesmerized by those simple gestures, the rough sound of the pen scratching the paper and the surface beneath it. I could have lived that moment for the rest of my life. In peace.
"I need to talk to you," I began after exhaling deeply. I pulled my feet onto the chair to hug my legs tightly, a cold I didn’t understand shaking me to the core. I don’t know if she noticed something was wrong or if it was just a natural reaction to my words, but she stopped writing to finally look me in the face, her expression furrowed, perhaps picking up on something in the few words I had spoken.
“Of course. Tell me, my padawan.”
I pursed my lips into a line before clearing my throat. I looked away for a moment before meeting her gaze again, Qimir’s name echoing in my mind, "I’d like to receive a mission away from the temple for a while. I need a change of scenery. I feel ready." That last sentence connected to what had happened some time ago when I had a breakdown in Qimir’s arms. We had agreed together that I would stay near the temple until I felt safe again. Even the missions we had done together had always been in safer, more controlled locations. But now, I needed that distance, even if I didn’t feel quite ready.
She placed the pen on the table, her posture now composed as she leaned back in her chair, her fingers slightly intertwined in front of her on the smooth surface. "Is that what’s making you so restless? I could feel you were agitated in your room."
Obviously, she understood that something was going on. It was impossible to pull the wool over her eyes in such a childish way. "I'm sorry if I disturbed you," I replied, buying myself a few moments to think.
She shook her head, her gaze still fixed on mine, making me uneasy. I could almost feel her thinking, as if she were trying to read my mind through my eyes. "Please. You know I would have come here anyway. It helps me focus. But, you haven't seemed at ease these days. I was hoping you’d come to talk to me when you felt ready, and now this is what you're asking me? Is there nothing else?"
We were both whispering, perhaps caught in the stillness of the quiet evening, yet her words hit me like a slap. Of course there was more, I wasn’t a good liar, or maybe the lie itself was too far-fetched to be believable. But I needed to distance myself from Qimir.
"I'm... suffocating here. I want to try and take that next step, even if... it scares me." I admitted, without revealing too much, pulling the fabric of my cloak tightly around my knees, curling into a cocoon on the chair.
There were a few more moments of silence before she lowered her gaze back to her papers. "Alright, you could actually help me with these senators. It’s nothing complicated—you’d mostly be there to reassure them. I can send you with Qimir if—" but I cut her off abruptly, my tone sharper. "No."
I realized my mistake, but it was too late to take it back. She looked at me, still hunched over the sheet she had picked up, then slowly set it down before leaning forward onto the table, her elbows on the surface, hands clasped together once again. "No to the mission? Or no to Qimir?"
She already knew the answer, I could hear it in her tone when she said his name, emphasizing and drawing out the letters. Whether she wanted me to admit it or not, it was obvious she had already figured it out. Their relationship hadn’t been great for a while now, and I knew that well. Still, she had never said anything bad about him in front of me, but now she seemed ready to point fingers.
"I... should go alone, right?" I didn’t feel up to voicing my doubts about Qimir. The guilt was eating me alive, and I didn’t think I had any right to accuse him of anything, but I also couldn’t keep pretending everything was fine in a relationship I was starting to feel trapped in. "It's not about Qimir. Really." I sounded like I was trying to convince myself more than her. "I want to take the next step. To move forward on my own."
I struggled to meet her gaze, preferring to focus on the slight fluttering of the papers scattered across the table, swaying at the corners with the light gusts that came rhythmically every few minutes. She, on the other hand, was seeking out my eyes with thinly veiled insistence. "And that's it? Nothing else to add? If something’s bothering you, you should tell me, padawan."
I nodded. "I need to move forward."
Long moments followed my words, as I lost myself in the light scratches on the table’s surface, and she remained still, her gaze fixed on me. "Okay. Then..." she finally moved, reaching for the datapad casually resting to the side. "Here." She placed the device in the center of the table in front of me. Moments later, a hologram of a planet appeared. "This is Ord Mantell. There are conflicts on the planet due to particularly violent political debates. They have no shortage of soldiers, and the Jedi haven’t been requested as assistance, but there’s a shortage of doctors and nurses. I’ve been organizing a potential team to send, and you could act as an assistant, helping out in the field."
I listened in silence, but with a light in my eyes that grew brighter with every word she said. I had always wanted to serve as a medic. I’d asked her countless times, even at the cost of falling behind on missions, a request she had always denied—until that night.
"Really?!" I squealed, more excited than I wanted to admit, and she nodded.
That was enough to distract me from Qimir, even more than I had imagined at first. I went to bed excited, but also a bit nervous, afraid that it was all just a dream or worse, a lie. But the next day, when I came out of the bedroom, everything was already prepared.
My bags, the transport, the mission details.
Everything.
I couldn’t help but notice the more pronounced bags under Vernestra's eyes, a sign that she had spent the entire night organizing my departure. I didn’t thank her verbally, knowing she wasn’t the type. A single glance was enough to show her how much I appreciated what she had done for me, and I knew from her smile that she had received the message.
It was still early morning when I got into the taxi that would take me to the spaceport where the rest of the team was waiting. I didn’t look back twice, caught up in the euphoria.
There wasn’t room to think about anything else.
From the first day I set foot there, I was already swamped with duties. The situation was truly tragic, between refugees and soldiers. Being there as part of the humanitarian aid meant we had the responsibility to help anyone in need, which in practice meant our base was completely packed in every corner.
The main hospital in one of the safe towns was the gathering point for all sorts of aliens—displaced children, homeless families, wounded of every kind. They were everywhere, crammed inside and outside the base where a tent camp had been set up for when there weren’t enough beds.
For the record, I don’t think I ever saw a bed free.
Once again, my expectations didn’t compare to reality. Sure, they teach you to be ready for anything, but reading or hearing about it was nothing like the real thing.
Maybe I was too young to be there. I wasn’t even the youngest, actually—I saw ten-year-olds helping as best they could, carrying medicine and tools to those who needed them. But there was a huge difference between us.
You could see the war and pain in their eyes. The galaxy had already marked them deeply, but me... I was weak.
I don’t know how many attempts it took me to get used to the pools of blood, the terrifying wounds of the soldiers, the cries of the families. It was all psychologically crushing, to the point that I even considered quitting.
Not the mission.
The Jedi.
I didn’t even have the stomach to help those in need. Was it really worth doing a humble job like a librarian or a caretaker?
Maybe they were better than me—they were there out of vocation, not to run away. I, on the other hand, wanted to flee.
Maybe being a Jedi wasn’t my path.
I stayed there for months. I told myself I’d talk to my master about my thoughts when I returned. Maybe it was too early to judge myself, maybe I really just needed time, maybe I needed to be forced through it. But... wasn’t that all wrong? The fact that I was in the middle of a war at such a young age. Inexperienced... alone.
I managed to make some friends, meet other Jedi, but I still felt a void.
I wanted to talk to my master about my doubts, but I didn’t want to worry her even more.
So, I called the one person I thought I was close to.
Qimir.
I felt uncomfortable calling him after disappearing for months without saying anything, but I believed he would understand. He knew better than I did the pace of our duties.
It was a particularly stressful evening that convinced me to call him. We had suffered many losses, and I had run away every single time. When the patients started gasping their final breaths, I froze, terrified. My hands would tremble, and I’d be pushed aside to make room for someone more capable.
I used to think death was quiet, yet all I kept hearing were breaths drowning in blood and bodies convulsing with unnatural, monstrous spasms, I would say.
I fled, leaving death behind, took a shower with the little freezing water that came from the showerhead, and threw myself into bed, but I couldn’t sleep.
I wanted to clear my head, but I had nowhere to escape to, so I thought of Qimir.
I needed him and his comfort.
So, I decided to call him.
He answered after a few minutes. I expected to see him looking sleepy, but what appeared before me was a very different image. He was wearing his usual tunic, his hair slick with sweat, his face dirty with soil.
"Look who’s shown up."
He smiled at me, but the warmth I was hoping for was nowhere to be found.
"Qimir... I didn’t mean to disturb you, but..." I pulled my legs to my chest, curled up on the bed, the blankets reaching my chin.
"Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving?" He interrupted, his voice low, hoarse.
"I... it was a last-minute thing. I talked to Vernestra and—"
He let out a laugh that cut off my words. "I bet. She wanted to get you away from me."
I looked at him, confused. My heart skipped a beat—something about the start of this conversation didn’t feel... right.
"What? No. It was something I had asked for and—"
"So, it was you who wanted to leave?" The question came out almost like a growl.
For some reason, I sat up on the mattress, something in the pit of my stomach making me feel uneasy.
"Qimir, what are you saying? Did... something happen?"
He stayed silent for a few minutes.
Something in his gaze was off... he seemed angry. Or maybe there was more to it—I could glimpse a sinister spark in his eyes.
"Vernestra didn’t tell you, did she? We’re at odds over you."
I remained silent, confused, trying to understand what he meant, and he took that as a cue to continue.
"I asked her to make you my padawan."
I wondered how long ago he had visited her,
"She refused."
I bit my lip, thinking. I wanted to try and lighten the conversation, but it didn’t seem possible. "Qimir... I... I don’t understand. I don’t know why you want me to—" I tried to speak slowly, searching for the right words, but a thud on the other end made me jump. "You don’t understand? Don’t you see? The bond between us? We’re meant for each other. You are mine." The icy expression he gave me took my breath away.
This... this wasn’t right.
"No, Qimir. You’re losing control. I want to help you, I’ll talk to Vernestra and—" another thud interrupted me. Wherever he was sitting, he suddenly stood up, his hands clenched into fists. Despite the small size of the hologram, I could still feel an aura... dark. Suffocating.
"I’m tired of hearing you mention her. She’s the one clouding your mind. I’ll deal with her, and I’ll show you who’s right."
He ended the call.
I sat there, mouth half-open, ready to say words I couldn’t even begin to form.
What was he doing? Why did everything seem worse now that I was away?
I wanted to call him back, but the thought made my hands tremble.
I wanted to call Vernestra, but I didn’t have the courage to say aloud what I was starting to suspect.
So, I wrote her a message.
A long message about Qimir and some of his behavior. I never explicitly mentioned his words—they were more suspicions and general doubts, not accusations.
Again, I was weak... I couldn’t accuse him of anything.
I sent it and got back under the covers.
I couldn’t sleep, and things got worse when I received a response in the middle of the night.
"Qimir has become dangerous to himself and others. Stay away from him. Don’t return to the temple until I tell you."
That was the last straw.
It was confirmation.
No need to say anything explicitly—she seemed to understand exactly what I was referring to.
I spent a long time reading and rereading that message, and the longer the minutes passed, the more a bad feeling weighed on me.
The Force seemed to speak through my nerves, a frightened voice telling me to move, to act before the worst could happen.
I didn’t think twice.
I got up on shaky feet and quickly packed a backpack with my essentials. There were only a few hours until dawn, and it was easy to find someone to ask for help among the other Jedi.
I didn’t say much, just that I wanted to speak to my master about the past few months. In less than three hours, I knew where to find her and was on a shuttle that would take me to the base in space where I’d board a small single-seater to reach my destination.
I ate some rations with trembling hands, spent hours in hyperspace, lost in my thoughts. I tried writing a message—actually, several messages to my master—but she didn’t seem to be responding.
So, in a panic, I wrote to Qimir, something casual asking where he was and what he was doing, but he didn’t answer either.
It could mean everything or nothing, but I was nervous. I needed to see her, to know more about what was happening between those two.
I reached the planet in the middle of the afternoon. It was mostly a research area, with a few peaceful towns, and miles of mountains and swamps. I landed in the town where I knew I would find her along with other Jedi. Nothing seemed familiar, but as soon as I introduced myself, I was warmly welcomed.
"Where can I find my master?" I asked.
The answer I received nearly gave me a heart attack.
"She’s up in the mountains, collecting more samples and traces. Why the rush, though? Not even two hours ago, Qimir was here asking about her as well."
I stammered some nonsense in reply and headed straight into the dense forest.
I didn’t realize that the directions, while accurate, were vague about the distance, and by the time I continued running, the sky had begun to darken.
I felt the Force calling out to me, screaming a warning—the sense that something terrible was about to happen. I wanted to believe I was just being paranoid, but I knew something was wrong.
I started to recognize traces on the ground—signs of digging, markings on the trees... and finally, the sound.
A man’s voice shouting.
I was exhausted from the running and the lack of sleep accumulating with each minute, but at last, I saw them.
They were at the edge of the forest, beyond a cliff that separated them from the other side of the woods.
"You abandoned me!" Qimir suddenly shouted, making me jump. Vernestra was staring at him intently without saying a word, her expression hard, her posture rigid.
"You’re losing your way. Surrender and let me help you."
At that moment, I noticed Qimir had his lightsaber in hand. As he moved to strike, I jumped out of the shadows, shouting his name.
Silence surrounded us.
Both of them realized my presence at that moment, looking at me in surprise.
Qimir whispered my name before taking a step toward me, his eyes wide. The coldness I had once recognized was now clear in his gaze. It terrified me.
Almost at the same time, Vernestra and I drew our lightsabers against him. I took a defensive stance, stepping back, my hands trembling.
"You’re pointing a weapon at me? After all the time we’ve spent together?" His voice was hoarse, low, almost a whisper that made me shake like a leaf.
"Qimir... please... you’re scaring me," I admitted, my eyes locked on his.
I don’t know if seconds or minutes passed, but his response was the final piece of that disaster.
"You’ve been deceived, just like I was, by Vernestra. But don’t worry, I’ll save you, my flower."
With a feline leap, he turned, his blue saber clashing with her purple one.
I stood there, frozen, watching them. I could barely recognize them, so angry with each other. The smiles, the jokes, the time spent together—it all seemed like it had never existed behind those furious eyes.
They fought relentlessly, without holding back. It was the first time I had ever seen two experienced Jedi in battle—fighting to survive a mortal duel.
I knew both of their combat styles well, as they had both trained me. I wanted to act, to move and help my master, but I didn’t have the courage. I wasn’t sure if I was more afraid of hurting Qimir or of the dangerous fight itself, but all I could do was watch, my mouth trembling.
I snapped out of my trance when I heard Qimir’s furious shout. "I will kill you!"
With a swift move, he struck her hard in the side, and without thinking, I rushed forward, putting myself between them and blocking his next blow.
"Qimir, please, no—" I managed to stop him again. My hands were shaking, and I was gripping my saber so tightly that my fingers hurt.
I pushed him back a few steps, my ears ringing, unable to sense my surroundings, too focused on him—on his rage-filled eyes, his furious strikes, the sound of our sabers clashing, too often close to my face, stealing the air from my lungs.
"Stay in your place, or I’ll teach you a lesson."
I blocked another strike, but I was naïve to think it would work again. With a precise slash, he cut my lightsaber in half, leaving me defenseless.
The crystal in the center of the hilt was shattered, now split into two pieces that I held in my hands.
Still in shock, I let my guard down, and he took the chance to throw me against a tree. I hit the ground, gasping in pain.
In front of me, Vernestra seemed to have recovered and reentered the battle.
The blow had stunned me, leaving my heart in my throat. I rubbed my eyes and got up to reach them.
Everything happened so fast.
A well-placed strike followed by a choked gasp.
I froze.
Vernestra fell to her knees, impaled by that blue saber, hers rolling across the ground toward me.
My ears were ringing.
It was as if my mind had gone blank.
Maybe it was survival instinct, or perhaps the shock I was feeling, but I moved without thinking.
Using the Force, I summoned her purple saber to me and, activating the whip, snapped it forcefully at Qimir’s back.
His scream of pain twisted my insides.
The look of shock and hatred in his eyes as he turned, losing his balance. Before he could move, I instinctively pushed him hard, away from Vernestra’s body.
Maybe I pushed him too hard.
When he stumbled back, finding himself at the edge of the cliff, he couldn’t regain his balance. The ground beneath him gave way, and he fell, staring at me—maybe scared, maybe betrayed.
The silence that followed was chilling.
I rushed toward Vernestra, but it was too late. Her body lay on the ground, her eyes wide open, empty, and the smell of burnt flesh filled my senses.
I wanted to lean over the edge, to see if Qimir was still alive, driven by the survival instinct that, now that everything was over, finally allowed me to recognize the danger.
No.
I didn’t move.
I remained on my knees in the dirt, a dull ringing in my ears that kept me from thinking.
And the lifeless body of my master, whom I had failed to save.
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