#I NEED TO MAKE A MACHINE THAT FORCES EVERYONE TO GO THROUGH WHAT I DID SPECIFICALLY TO MAKE THIS STUPID ASS SLIDESHOW

[fridgemissionmaster]

Beelzebub x Reader ft.rest of the bros: March Prompt/Day 26

Prompt list/available prompt requests here, making a fic everyday of march

“Are you sure?”

“I mean, yeah. Pretty much just scraps at this point. Maybe Mammon or Asmo can help me find a replacement.” With that you dropped the torn fabric into the emptied recycling bin, shivering a little as you walked away. “Besides, it’s going to warm up soon anyway.” Beel didn’t like that… strained tone in your voice.

…

Beelzebub slipped the scraps into his pocket before draping his jacket over you, those sleeves dragging against the ground, the garment more of the cloak on you. “You don’t have too!”

“I’m fine.” He adjusted it a little to make sure it wouldn’t slip off your little human frame.

Unfortunately human clothing was much less durable than demon’s. Most of your wardrobe were things from here but you still had the occasional item from home. One had to be careful though as the daily chaos of Devildom life would destroy any human garments easily. At least you didn’t get hurt but…

Carefully Beel hand washed the thing in the sink, it was so thin at parts Beel worried it’d just disintegrate in the washing machine. But then what? It wasn’t like there was enough fabric left to make you a new jacket let alone repair it.

Actually…

“Levi, how do you repair clothing?”

“You uh… find…” That tap, tap, tapping came to an abrupt stop just as the music did, a pause menu now displayed on the handheld. Utterly baffled the third born looked over his shoulder. “Beel!?”

Beelzebub held out the scraps to his older brother. “… What’s this?”

“What’s left of MC’s favorite jacket.”

“Hmm.” Levi scrutinized the bits of fabric trying to figure out some way to put his baby brother down gently. “I don’t…”

“I thought so.”

“OH! Well, then, Good.” And with that Levi turned back to his game.

… Was there really nothing he could do? But if even Levi didn’t think anything could be done, then it was impossible. Maybe Barbatos could help? Didn’t he sew an outfit for you once? Could he know a way? Even then, Beel had seen Levi make so many extravagant outfits, and he certainly couldn’t count how many times he gave Levi one of his jerseys to repair only for it to be given back good as new, so if he couldn’t surely no one could. Besides then Levi had a whole shirt to work with not… this.

“FINE!”

“Huh?”

“We’re going to my room.” With that Levi began stomping off. “I swear, you and Belphie and your puppy eyes.” But Levi only glanced at his face for a moment, focusing on the fabric before. Did he have an odd expression?

Beelzebub stood by the door while Levi got a big fold out table from behind some shelving, setting it up, before patting his hands on it. “Come on. I need to know what we’re working with here.”

“…”

It was almost sad to look at.

“Is this it?”

“Yeah.”

Levi studied the thing in dismay.

“What are we all doing here?”

“GAH! Get out party animals! You have to say the password!”

“Excuse me, you left the door wide open!”

Asmodeus and Mammon easily slipped past Levi, immediately making their way for the out of place table.

Levi sighed realizing the pair wouldn’t leave any time soon.

“Some scrap?”

“Oi, that’s MC’s jacket.” Everyone glanced to Mammon about to question how he could recognize it in this state but then remembered the word ‘privacy’ didn’t exist in his vocabulary when it came to you. Beel had even seen him snooping through your stuff for the hell of it.

“It got wreaked yesterday.” The intruders nodded, recalling the tales they were told of it at dinner the night before.

“Well, what are you going to do with it?” Asmo pinched at a corner before lifting it up to get a better look.

“I want to repair it.”

Beel didn’t much care for the pitiful look Mammon gave him. “Eh? You might as well be startin’ from scratch.”

“Mammon, hush!” Asmo smacked the back of his hand against Mammon face and kept it there, seemed he didn’t like that look either. Not enough force to leave a mark or even hurt probably, but enough for an audible fwap sound.

“EY!”

“It’s sweet.” Placing the fabric down he started talking with his hands as perusual. “Besides, did you see that yukata he made for MC? You still need to make me one! It’s gorgeous!”

Beel grumbled at the fabric. “I couldn’t make it again even if I wanted too. I didn’t write down any instructions.” He could repair it if needed.

“Come on, you at least have the pattern pieces left, right? We can just adjust them to my size.”

“No.”

“But Beel-”

“I don’t know what pattern pieces are, so I can’t even if I wanted. And I don’t.”

…

“Why are you staring at me?” His older brothers looked between one another, having some silent conversation before Levi scurried off, placing some big paper on the table, while Mammon immediately began to scribble on it.

Asmo placed his hands on Beelzebub’s shoulders, a deathly serious look in his eyes. “You didn’t use any patterns?”

“Uh? No?”

“You didn’t draw out the pieces and then cut them out?”

“No? Mc did that to make my yukata, but we didn’t have much paper so I let them use it.”

“YOU FREE HAND THE ENTIRE THING AND IT TURNED OUT LIKE THAT!?”

“I-”

“WHY HAVE YOU BEEN KEEPING YOUR DESIGN AND SEWING SKILLS SECRET FROM ME BEEL!”

Levi and Mammon had cut out one of the things Mammon drew, shoving their way past Asmo to hold it right up to his face. “Ya didn’t do anythin’ like this before cutting out your fabric?”

Beel just shook his head, words getting lost as he only got more and more confused by his brothers beginning to freak out and question him all at once. You did that to make a guide for what to cut but for Beel, trying to keep the paper and fabric in place while cutting was a bit much so he just went without and trimmed when he needed.

“I guess I can’t freehand MC’s jacket though.” It wouldn’t be your exact jacket but his own thing then.

“Uh duh. Here, just let me…” And so Mammon went scribbling away again. Beel really should have been surprised at how Mammon had even the details of your favorite clothing memorized, down to the individual parts that made them, but he couldn’t be. It was Mammon after all, the man was terrifyingly skilled.

“Oh, I know!” Asmo took one of the smaller scraps. “We need kamillion fabric!”

“Wh-” Asmo pinched Beel’s cheek, looking all too giddy.

“It’s a fabric that will turn into an exact copy of whatever material you press into it, and once you do that it won’t change, so we can get plenty of new material!” And off Asmo was, his heels clacking away as he went.

“Here, cut these out.”

“Oh-okay.” Beel had to admit it was impressive Mammon could already be done with some parts and how he drew such straight lines.

“Later, I need to show him my sewing machine.” Levi grabbed his arm, dragging Beel away to the opposite side of the table. Seemed Mammon didn’t hear, passing another sheet to where Beelzebub was.

“So, we’ll skip the basics and go straight about the special features.” Levi pointed to the machine excitedly, already beginning to ramble.

“Wait, I don’t know how to use this.”

“…” He… just started. Unblinking. “No… Beel, you didn’t use a sewing machine EITHER!?”

“Well… no. We didn’t have one to use when we made our yukatas.”

“… NO WONDER YOU TWO KEPT WORKING NONSTOP ALL DAY AND NIGHT! Beel. Okay, I’ll get us some scraps so I can teach you. Trust me you’ll love this, it’ll make everything so much faster!”

Well, he was going to have to wait on the fabric anyway. It did get a bit annoying with both Levi and eventually Mammon hovering over his shoulders and arguing about what kind of stitching would be better in certain situations, but he did learn a lot from the both of them.

“I’m surprised though…” Mammon draped an arm over the redhead’s shoulders, leaning in to get a closer look at his work. “Yer picking all this up so quickly. You used to be- uh… struggle with this more fiddly stuff. What got ya interested?”

…

“Wasn’t it when Belphie made that plush for him?”

“Oh yeah. He made one for Belphie after that.”

“Then it was the yukatas him and MC made for each other.”

“Still though, between then and now he’s improved a lot!”

“I know, and now he even designed our outfits for the parade!”

“Look at our baby bro growing up!”

“Gross Mammon.”

“Eh!? What’s so wrong about prasin’ my little brothers!?”

… there was just something nice about it. It felt good. For the yukatas you taught him a lot, you got some good tips from Barbatos when sewing that Devilcat plush for him that you shared. He did a couple of little things since the yukatas like drawstrings bags or trying to repair his jerseys himself. He couldn’t be sure why but something in him was just drawn to this. It felt soothing in a way. It was also nice to use things that you taught him, to repeat it, to memorize it, to make it part of himself.

It would take a couple of days for the fabric to get shipped so Beel used the time to get other fabrics he’d need that he couldn’t get the original parts of like the inside lining of the pockets.

“Hey, Beel.” Satan strolled a bit closer than he normally would with anyone but you. Said you was at the front of your group, excited to get home and warm up after classes.

“Yeah?” Beelzebub matched his brother’s hushed tone.

“Tell me when your package gets here.”

“My what?”

“The… supplies.”

“Uhh... Oh, you mean the fabric?”

The fourth born quirked a brow before maintaining the distance he usually would, although his voice stayed low. “So it’s not a surprise?”

“… huh?”

He shook his head. “Anyway, tell me when it arrives. You’re using kamillion fabric, right?”

“Yes.”

“Then it will be just as weak as before. I know a few spells that can make it as tough as Devildom fabric.”

“Thank you!” Beelzebub hadn’t even thought of that. Although… who told Satan about this project? It wasn’t a secret, exactly, Beelzebub hadn’t quite been open about this though either. In a way he didn’t want you to know. You surprised him with the Devilcat so it would be nice to surprise you with something.

In the planning Beel did overlook one thing. It was Fangol season so most days after school had to be spent out on the field. So instead after Lucifer had finished his bedtime check-up Beelzebub would get back up. On the loft was where he’d place the table, light, and sewing machine. He hoped the distance would make it less disruptive to Belphegor.

And yet every night a few minuets after he began work he’d hear a yawn come from the winding staircase. Belphie would trot up, pillow in hand before sitting on the floor beside him and rest his head on Beel’s lap. The company was nice. Usually he’d immediately fall asleep but sometimes he’d try staying up, ask Beel what part he was working on or what exactly he was doing, it also helped Beel stay up on nights where practice hit hard and all his battered body wanted to do was collapse in bed.

Nice soft bed…

… so warm

…. And

Comfy

…

…

…

A groan rumbled in his throat, his neck killing him. Slowly he sat up, his body stuttering and creaking from the movement. Arched back, hands up high he stretched, a yawn escaping him. He couldn’t help smiling feeling that weight on his lap and getting that familiar yawn in reply. “Morning Belphie.”

“Morning Beel.”

“Morning you two.”

Immediately Beel’s eyes shot open being greeted to the worst sight. Lucifer stood across the table, arms crossed, a glowering stare. His every step was noted with the soft thud of his shoes against the wood floor. His eyes flickered up and down the pair, clearly not pleased with the sight. “Well, get ready. You’re going to be late.”

A couple of quick nods and Beel practically bolted out of the chair with his twin in his arms.

“Wait… Lucifer, we don’t have classes today.” The man simply sighed, the distinct click of the lamp being turned off before, following him down the stairs, your jacket in hand.

“You have practice.” The jacket was placed on the railing before he reached out and…

And placed his hands on Beelzebub’s cheeks?

“Wha-” Squished, stretched, pulled, smushed Beelzebub was left baffled at Lucifer playing with his face like that!

“There, now there’s color in your cheeks and you won’t worry them by looking so sickly.”

…

“… Heh, thank you!” And so Beel was off. He had to give you your jacket before practice, you were going to be watching today after all!

You stood by the door, giving him a little smile in greeting before your eyes were drawn to the garment he held. He simply placed it on your shoulders before holding the door open for you, leaving you baffled, looking to your jacket all the while everyone else piled on one another, peeking around the corner, some filming, some giving a thumbs up, some trying to act like they didn’t care yet still stood there watching anyway.

“I hope you like it.” You held the thing close for a moment, rolling some of the fabric between your fingers.

“I- what? How?”

“I got help making it. Is it… like your old one?”

“… Even better.” Good, you smiled.

[kingscythe]

they'll never know how long it took me to edit this god damned powerpoint

[caotictimmy]

Hey!!! Can you do Curly x (gn, but it's okay if you don't! Whatever you prefer writing) reader headcanons? Post or pre crash idk it's up to you! Even if you want to write a one-shot I don't mind really whatever you feel like writing it's up to you I JUST NEED CURLY CONTENT JDJDJDJJWJSBSB

Btw I hope you have a wonderful day!!!

Thank you!!! I hope your having a good day to! I’m gonna be doing pre crash Curly. I’ll probably be doing the same format I did with Daisuke. Crushing - confessing. Dating than NSFW. It will prob be more Gn but I’ll put (AFAB) when in gonna talk about more AFAB stuff. (Btw this is gonna be like what a regular trip would be for them.)

Crushing - Confession

- Kind of like love at first sight. But it’s a love at first true conversations. Lemme explain

- Yes you’ve had conversations with Curly before. But not on a personal level. Your guys first conversation was prob Like you guys were either both up going to get coffee at a late hour. So when you both see each other where the coffee machine is. You guys make small talk. Before the conversation starts get more real. Not just forced talking. The conversation flows freely. And you guys find out you have a lot more in common.

- After that moment he realizes how much you guys click together. You interest him. So except for him to come up and talk to you a lot more. He wants to get to know you better! (Totally not to remember everything you like and love to woe you)

- He’s another person who’s gonna be a bit obvious. Not as much as Daisuke though. But he’s still gonna be obvious.

- Curly definitely treats you better. Not like he doesn’t treat his crew good (jimmy doesn’t exist here.). But it’s more like picking favorites. Opening doors for you, before letting it slam shut even though Swansea was just about to walk through the door. (Curly got an ear full after that happened.).

- But the funny thing is that no one really notices that you’re getting treated better. Except for Daisuke funny enough… For another example imagine they have his surprise birthday party! He’s cutting the cake and he gives you a noticeable bigger piece of cake. Giving Daisuke a smaller piece. And let me tell you. This man was outraged. HE ASKED FOR THE BIGGEST PIECE AND CURLY GIVES HIM A SCHOOL PARTY SIZED PIECE?

- So of course he had to speak up. “Listen Curly, since I’m such a righteous man, I’ve let the favoritism towards them slide. BUT I CLEARLY ASKED FOR THE BIGGER PIECE! AND YOU GIVE THEM THE BIGGEST PIECE. I WILL NOT STAND FOR THIS TREATMENT ANY LONGER!”

- To say everyone was stunned is an understatement. It was quiet for a good couples of minutes. Just standing still like the moment was paused. You then silently switched plates with Daisuke. Taking the smaller piece. He then found balanced was restored!

- “never mind Curly now I get why you favorite them.” He said looking over to you before raising his hand. “High five dude!” He said, smilingly giddily. (I love daisuke he’s so silly!)

- To say Curly was embarrassed would be an understatement. After that moment Curly knew he had to confess to you to soon. So he called you down to the cock pit. When you got there he lead you to sit in one of the chairs. Crouching before you. Holding your hands on his as he stares up at you. “You’ve made me feel emotions I’ve never truly felt before, god you mean so much to me. Will you be my partner.”, He asked.

- When you say yes he cups yours face with his hands. Leaning upwards to bring you in a passionate kiss.

Dating

- Like I said in that brief moment In Daisuke’s headcanons. This man is a die hard romantic to his core. So if you don’t mind. Curly would love to cuddle with you in bed, while watching sappy love movies. Just holding each other. God he loves you sm I’m gonna tweak up in this bitch.

- I think the affection he likes to receive is quality times and words of affirmation . And I think the affection he gives is acts of service and physical affection. Now let me cook. Guys LET.ME.COOK

-(receiving) Curly loves spending time with you. He tried to find as much time to fit you into his busy schedule. So when he finally gets to spend time with you. Omg he’s love sick!!!!!! He really doesn’t care what you guys are doing while being together. Whether that be doing or watching something together. Or maybe doing your own stuff. Your presence is so comforting. You calm him down sm.

-(receiving) He receives compliments a bit. But when you do it. It’s different. It makes his heart flutter, makes him feel like he has butterflies in his stomach all over again! He just feels so special when you compliment him!!!! Please compliment how good of a captain he is. Yes he gets praised for being a good captain. It just feels so genuine from you.

-(giving) He doesn’t care how you guys spend your quality time together. Whether that be doing or watching something together. Or just doing your guys own thing. He just loves being in your presence. You being there just makes him feel calmer, he knows he doesn’t have to keep this big stoic act in-front of you. He doesn’t mind if theirs silence or background noise. As long as he got to spend time with you.

-(giving) Curly isn’t gonna be doing big/a lot of physical affection all the time. Even though he does give you a lot of physically affection. I know I sound dumb right now stay with me. He’s more soft with his affection. Gently rubbing his thumb on your hand. Drawing shapes on your back while cuddling. Rubbing your leg when you sit next to him on the couch. Kissing a bruise you got from falling(those floors look slippery asf PROVE ME WRONG). He’s very romantic and soft with you and Curly’s just such a sweetie.

- A SUCKER for pda. Like he loves it so much. He feels bad if he has to “hide” how much he loves you away from the world! He feels so special knowing you wanted him, HIM! He’s just so sickly in love with you. He wants to show you off. Not in a trophy wife way but in a. Yeah see the drop dead gorgeous person that picked ME, yea that’s right, be jealous.

- He loves if you draw in him! From his hands to his arms. I think he finds it very relaxing and therapeutic. As long as you don’t draw anything inappropriate, he won’t care what you draw. He WILL proudly show off the drawings on his hands and arms. Like FLEX his arms. He loves them sm. Every time you draw on him, he takes a picture and keeps it in a folder on his phone.

- Loves anything you make him. Bracelets? Wears them all the time he might acually get a permanent imprint. Clothe? Try’s to find any opportunity to wear them. Art? Hung proudly in his bedroom. He appreciates anything you do for him. No matter what form affection it is.

- This man loves slinging his arm/arms around you. Arms around your waist. Arm around your shoulder. Hand on your hip. Idk why I think he likes it. But I have that spicy sense.

NSFW - DO NOT READ IF YOUR A MINOR OR UNCOMFORTABLE WITH NSFW (AFAB)

- Another man who would be into public/semi public sex. Y’all have DEFINITELY done it in the cockpit. Like almost everywhere. Curly and you have probably done it on the table too(you guys cleaned it afterwards don’t worry). But I think he just loves the thrill of it. You guys have almost been caught but thankfully Curly knows how to be quiet! (No shade to you Daisuke we love you)

- This man loves keeping his hands on you. Like a FIRMM grip on your hips as he’s hitting it. Gripping yours thighs. He just likes sinking his fingers in your soft flesh. Somehow just kinda grounds him in the moment. He also just loves feeling up your body.🫢

- Speaking of feeling you up. Dry humper. DRY HUMPER. I feel like this man is a tease. So this man will pin you against a wall, and just grind on you. Teasing you until you can’t take it anymore! He loves seeing a pout on your face before he gives you what you want.

- Like before, curly is a tease. He will push all your buttons. Just get you right there! Then stops. He wants to make sure when you climax. It’s better than the last time you guys had sex. It’s a GOAL for him to make you feel even better than the last time you guys slept together.

- Loves overstimulating you. Unlike Daisuke who accidentally overstimulates you. It’s Curly’s mission to get you brain dead by the end. He knows he’s making you feel good. This man won’t over do it though. Your comfort and safety is his priority! So he’ll always make sure you’re comfortable.

- Call him captain!!!!! God Curly gets so riled up when you call him captain. Teasingly calling him captain earns you a night of either overstimulation or edging. So I hope you are aloud to take sick leave, cause wooo…. You will be sore my friend

- (AFAB) Sit on his face.. OH GOOD GOLLY SIT ON HIS FACE. I imagine he’s buff. Like have you SEEN that fanart. So he can definitely take a lot of weight!( shout out my cubby AFABs i really wanna make a chubby reader FIC but idk..) BUT PLEASS, he’ll beg on his hands and knees. Like why are you keeping that tantalizing gift away from him???

- Yes I’ve been saying he can be a freak.(guys I promise I’m trying to be original 😭🙏) But I definitely think he’s More into romantic, soft sex. He likes to take his time. Kissing up and down your body. He wants to make sure you feel loved, and that he’s not just using you for your body. He is a sucker for you.

- He loves watching your face when he’s pleasuring you. No matter what he’s doing or where. He wants to know your getting pleased! That’s how he figured out what you liked and didn’t like fast. He kept his eyes trained on your face. He truly is a giver!

Authors note: GUYS I’M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG. IVE BEEN HAVIBD SIRE AFFECTS FROM MY PLAN B. Like dude I’ve been bed ridden for the past two days. But I’m feeling better and it’s the weekend. So more requests are on the way!

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Hi, I was wondering… could you write a scenario/one-shot with the player Player(Reader) where instead of the final battle with Doey we manage to calm him down and comfort him after Safe Haven was destroyed.

idk I just want to hug the Dough Boy

Ngl I had this one requested to me by like 5 people. So here's that much-needed fix it fic <3

.........

Hearing the distant screaming of who you could only assume was Doey, you rushed through the tunnel with a pounding heart.

You've never felt more terrified than you did right now.

Not long after killing the Doctor, the Prototype decided to make his move and lay waste to the Safe Haven. Ollie alerted you to the situation and told you how to repair the generator while Doey and the others fended off the outside threat.

Then you headed down to the foundation at Poppy's insistence, setting up the explosives you collected and eventually running into the doughman again within the caves.

He seemed utterly confused, having been chasing the Prototype away from Safe Haven...

Only to realize too little too late that was his intention all along..

An explosion suddenly rocked the sanctuary, prompting the two of you to rush back to see how bad the destruction was. It took you a while to get there considering your limitations as a human wearing a grabpack, so you could only imagine what Doey was seeing to make him scream that loudly.

When you finally made it through the infirmary, past a handful of Mini Smiling Critter corpses, your heart sunk into the pit of your stomach, horrified at the scene before you:

The decrepit yet colorful place the toys once found safety in...was totally reduced to rubble. Small fires burned all around you---and in the midst was a little Bobby Bearhug, who Doey was currently grieving over.

They might have been a nuisance to you in the playhouse, but these ones--the ones who refused to give into their savagery during the Hour of Joy--were innocent little souls. Doey had sworn to protect them over the years, keeping them sheltered from the outside..

And in an instant, they were gone.

All of them.

Because he wasn't there.

"I'm sorry...I'm so, so sorry." He choked out, seemingly unaware of your presence. "I failed you. I was never what any of you needed. I-I was only made to hurt things. My fault...my fault..." With a small sob, he brought his hands to his face.

You were utterly devastated, too.

How could this happen?

How could you let that damn machine trick you?

"Doey, I'm..." You stepped forward, only to freeze as he suddenly turned to you, now eerily silent.

The look in his big hollow eyes...was nothing short of pure anger.

"Hurt...everything hurts." He snarled, his nubby fingers balled up into fists. "Hurt back. ALWAYS hurt back. Parents. Scientists. Everyone! Have to-"

His body experienced a tremor, and he now looked utterly grief-striken once more, his voice now sounding depressed and weepy. "My friends! He killed my friends!" He sobbed, wiping at his tears.

At first you wondered what was going on with him, until you remembered the tapes and notes you've gathered throughout your journey--quite a handful discussed his time as an experiment and how he came to be, well, Doey.

Apparently the mad scientists here had the brilliant idea to take three children--boys to be precise--and blend them into one 900 pound pile of dough and bring it to life, thinking that nothing could possibly go wrong.

One of them, Kevin, had anger issues that drove him to become violent towards other children--even those who were his friends. The other was Matthew, who seemed to be the calmest and most mature, and the one you've most likely been talking to this whole time. Then there was Jack, a very young kid who fell into a dough mixer and was forced to become part of Doey as some "life-saving" measure.

Had it not been for the information you discovered, you never would've understood what was happening to the toy you've allied yourself with.

But now you realize he was unstable.

Because of the sheer trauma of Safe Haven's destruction.

"You. It all started with you." Doey pointed at you accusingly, Kevin dominating the conversation once more. "You and her...IT WAS YOU WHO RUINED EVERYTHING!!" He screamed.

"What?" Your eyes went wide, horrified that he'd blame you for all of this. "No, that's...you seriously think this was all my fault?! I had no idea this was going to happen!"

"LIAR!! You two led him to us." He growled. "You shouldn't have come back...NEVER SHOULD HAVE COME BACK!!"

His body wriggled once more, with Matthew trying his best to stay in control, afraid of what he'd might do. "No, no. That's not true. They jumpstarted the generator, they--" He smacked the side of his head, and he was lost again, Kevin's rage being too overbearing. "DESTROYED EVERYTHING!! I'LL KILL YOU!!!"

'No..no, no, no...' You panicked internally, slowly backing away as you saw sharp orange teeth starting to break through his mouth. 'Please, god..don't make me hurt another one...'

Why did this have to happen again?

You were so, so tired of having to fight.

After he saved you from Pianosaurus, made his sanctuary a home to you, and kept you smiling throughout your trip inside this hellhole....it was now going to come down to either you or him walking away alive?

In a blind rage, Doey's enlarged fist swung at a concrete pillar beside him, and as it crumbled....so did the ceiling above him that was barely supported by that single pillar.

Now nothing could stop the rubble from crashing down onto him--

Except for you and your quick thinking, using both grabpack hands to grip his arms and drag him towards you with all your might. Upon release, you jumped back as he fell to the ground, looking to see the massive pile of debris he would've been buried under.

It made you feel relieved, afraid of what might've become of him.

"You...why did you do that? You think that makes you a hero?!!"

Before you could blink, Doey suddenly had you in his grasp, holding you up high in the air with both hands, itching to crush you and eat you alive. "WHY DID YOU DO THAT?!!" His features began distorting, looking more reptilian in nature. "I said I'd kill you!! KILL EVERYONE WHO HURTS ME!!!"

For a brief moment, you thought you saw a few pairs of glowing red eyes within his widening mouth, but they quickly retreated--except for one angry-looking set.

Yet you stared at them, your resolve unwavering. "You're an idiot, you know that?"

"....what?" He was shocked by your cold answer, and that only fueled his outrage. "IDIOT?! I'M NOT THE IDIOT!! YOU'RE THE IDIOT!!!"

"Don't you get it?! This is exactly what the Prototype wants! He wants to see us fight and tear each other apart! Destroy whatever unity we had left!" You snapped, despite your voice trembling. "You think I wanted this to happen?! You think I wanted Poppy to drag me into this mess?!"

"......."

"I only came here because of a stupid note. From somebody I knew who claims they're still alive. But...they can't be. I was tricked by him. I tried to leave, but Poppy...she redirected the train that was my only way out of here, saying I'm "the only one" who can help her...but I never wanted that responsibility, Doey."

For once, "Kevin" remained silent, although he still had you in his clutches. But he looked surprised to hear that she took away your chance at escaping this place.

She never mentioned that to him.

She only said you came willingly..

"Something's not right with her. You know it. I know it. And I'm sure Kissy knows it even if she can't tell us. We've all felt used by her. To do the dirty work that somehow keeps bringing the Prototype closer to us."

"...you could have talked her out of it.." He finally responded. "Yet you...you went along with her plan anyway. YOU KILLED THEM!! KILLED MY FRIENDS!! Our friends.." Jack briefly returned, sniffling. "T-They thought you were good...they thought you were nice..I-I thought Poppy was, too."

"I know, and I'm sorry. I should have heard you out. I had no idea it was gonna lead to all of this. I swear to god..I didn't know.." You sighed shakily, hoping he'd be willing to listen to reason. "You have every right to blame me. But..we can't let them die in vain. The Doctor's gone, so all we have to do is get to him. But first...I need you to put me down."

"......"

"Please, Doey. I don't care if you hate me for this. I don't expect your forgiveness. Let's just....kill the Prototype..and you can do whatever you want to me afterwards. I'm tired of fighting people I've come to see as friends. I've got enough blood on my hands."

At first, it seemed like all your attempts at resolving this without violence were futile, as he was just breathing raggedly, like he were an animal who was too far gone.

But then you saw his features twitch, resembling what they were before. His eyes also had that familiar sad look to them, indicating Matthew had somehow regained full control--at least for the moment.

"I..." He sniffled, setting you down on the ground. "I'm sorry. We--I was just...so hurt by what happened. And....And I just looked for somebody to blame. I shouldn't have lashed out. I shouldn't have-"

"Hey, it's okay, Doey. I know you didn't mean it." You reassured him, happy he returned to his senses, before you turned around to see that same Mini-Bobby still laying on the floor, who somehow didn't get crushed by the rubble.

Without saying a word, you crouched down to pick up the little Smiling Critter, cradling her despite the blood. You saw a piece of playmat that managed to survive the explosion. Although it wasn't much, it was better than her laying on the ash-ridden concrete, so you decided to set her down on it.

Doey just looked on in silence, removing his hat as a show of respect, still mulling over his angry words and how he threatened your life.

There's no way you could have predicted the Prototype's next move.

Then, as though a miracle were sent from above...Mini-Bobby suddenly gasped, coming back to life.

Both of you were initially shocked, although you were quick to comfort her as she coughed a few times, smoking clogging her senses. "Hahh..gah..wh-what happened?" She hoarsely asked, seeing you two and the surrounding flames, before it all clicked. "The Safe Haven...it's..."

"I'm sorry. It's no more." You frowned a little, helping her sit up. "Go through that tunnel and stay quiet. I'll be there to retrieve you. Just keep yourself away from all this smoke."

She nodded managing to get up and limp towards the tunnel you came from.

Doey was astonished. "Bu....But I thought..she...."

"Looks like not everybody perished. There might be more survivors-" You turned back to face him.....only to get engulfed by his arms, and for a moment you thought Kevin returned and was about to crush you like a grape.

Until you heard loud sobbing and felt his entire body tremble, realizing it was Jack instead, and your relief returned.

"There, there, big guy." You hugged him back, smiling sadly. "You're okay. We're gonna get through this together. He'll pay for what he's done to our friends. I'll make sure of it."

"I-I don't wanna be here anymore..I just want mommy...a-and daddy..." He cried.

"I know. I don't wanna be here, either. We're gonna find a way out."

"...I'm so sorry. I-I didn't mean to get so angry.."

"I know you didn't. I forgive you."

[covenofagatha]

Okay but hear me out…

Agatha and Reader meet at a BDSM club? Kink level as far as you’re comfortable writing (though it would me amazing if there was a strap-on and maybe a fucking machine but only if you’re comfortable with it)

Hope I did it justice!

There's something in here for everyone

What's your fantasy?

Word count: 4600

Warnings: smut, exhibitionism, fingering, strap on, sex toys, degradation, praise, gagging, spanking, blindfolds, restraints, fucking machine, mommy kink (hope this is all)

This is a bad idea. 

That is the only thing going through your mind as you walk up to the doors of “The Velvet Hex.” 

Westview’s only BDSM club can be found in an unassuming part of town, in a relatively plain building. 

Definitely not what you were expecting. 

You aren’t even sure what you’re doing here, but your best friend Wanda had told you that you desperately needed to get laid and to go out and have some fun. 

But her idea of “fun” had come when she had plopped down in the chair of the library next to you and told you to take the BDSM test, gleefully holding up her phone with her results.   

So you had taken the test right there, turning more and more red as the questions went on, and when you finally finished, Wanda had looked over and let out a low whistle. 

“Damn, girl, you are kinky,” she had said as you compared yours to hers and you felt your cheeks burn even more. 

And then she had whispered, in the Westview University campus library, that her girlfriend’s roommate knew a woman who owned her own club like that, and they were having an exclusive invite-only night where anything was on the table. 

You had looked at her with questioning eyes, wondering where she was going with that, and Wanda had smacked your knee for being oblivious. 

“Nat’s roommate told us she could get us in if we wanted. We said no, but I’m sure Rio could get you an invite. You should go and explore,” she explained, a smirk plastered to her face while she wiggled her eyebrows at you. You weren’t surprised that Natasha and Wanda hadn’t wanted to get involved in that world, but you couldn’t ignore how the offer piqued your interest. 

You hummed casually. “Oh yeah?” 

And Wanda had grinned, seeing the wheels turning in your head. You were curious, that’s all. Obviously you weren’t looking for anything.

The next day, she gave you a letter on purple cardstock with a date, time, location, and password. 

At the moment, it seemed like a good idea. 

But standing here now, outside alone the club with the paper clutched in your hand, your heart is racing. 

You should turn back now and go back to your dorm. You could lie to Wanda, tell her that it was just okay, and no one would ever have to know. 

But a small part of your brain nags at you and tells you to go inside. You’re not sure why, but it feels like something from the club is calling to you, drawing you in. 

So you take a deep breath and knock on the door. 

A slot slides open and you can see a man’s brown eyes. 

“Password?” He asks. 

You clear your throat and hold up the cardstock. “Katoptronophilia.” You’re not even sure if you’ve sounded it out correctly, but the slot closes and the door swings open. 

You step inside hesitantly and take in your surroundings. 

The room is dimly lit with different colored LED lights glowing in different corners over doors that lead to different rooms. There’s a good amount of people in here, just mingling at the moment. There’s people dressed in leather outfits, or tight, short dresses, or nothing at all. 

Anything is on the table, you remember Wanda saying. You had done some research, just to see what you were getting yourself into, and the website had said that it was a tame environment, normally no sex allowed. But the exclusive, invite-only event tonight must be cause for an exception. 

You move a bit further into the main room, eyes darting all over the place. A woman yanks on a leash that’s connected to a younger man’s neck, forcing him down on all fours and making him crawl after her. A waitress bends over in a man’s lap to pick up a napkin she dropped, exposing her naked ass to him and his friends. Two women 69 on a couch while a third woman watches, slowly fingering herself to the sight. 

Feeling a little overwhelmed, you head to the bar. You’re really not sure what you’re doing here. 

And of course, the bartender ignores you. You try several times to get their attention, but people come up next to you, order something, and they get their drink immediately. 

You’re about to give up, maybe even just call it a night, when an older woman saunters in next to you. You don’t even look at her, rolling your eyes at how she will inevitably get a drink before you do. 

“Your usual?” The bartender asks her, and that makes you glance over. She’s a bit taller than you, long dark hair, bright blue eyes. She’s wearing a black blazer and pants, but under the blazer is a see-through bra. 

Your mouth runs dry. This is the first person you’ve seen here tonight that you actually find attractive. 

“Yes, please,” the woman next to you says, and then she turns her head to look at you and it almost stops your heart. “And what do you want?” 

You’ve been ignored so many times you’ve almost forgotten. “Oh, um, a Dirty Shirley, please.” The woman nods at the bartender, who starts working. “Thanks,” you say. “Do you come here often?”

The moment you say it, you cringe. Is it weird to ask someone if they’re a regular at a BDSM club? But the woman just laughs and shakes her head. 

“I’m the owner, darling,” she says and your mouth drops open. “Agatha Harkness.” 

“Oh,” you reply, completely dumbfounded. You introduce yourself and she reaches out her hand. You take it, feeling a spark at the contact. 

“So,” she drawls, eyes raking over your body, taking in your short dress and the amount of skin on display appreciatively. Your body burns under the intensity. “What brings you here for the first time?”

You frown. “How did you know it was my first time?” You don’t know why you’re even asking, it’s got to be obvious based on your tense composure and general awkwardness at being in this environment.

But she just smirks. “I would’ve remembered seeing you around here.” Surely the owner of this club is not flirting with you. “So?” 

Your brows furrow. “So?” 

“What brings you here?” She reminds you of her earlier question and you inwardly smack yourself. 

What exactly should you say? Your best friend thinks you should get laid and that you’re kinky? “Just wanted to try something new,” is what you settle on. “Get out of my comfort zone.”

Her grin widens and you see a slight resemblance to a shark about to get its prey. “And now that you’re here, how do you feel? Are you good with sitting here, or–” She leans in closer until you can feel her warm breath on your lips. You shudder at the proximity. “–do you want more?” 

“What are you suggesting?” You whisper back, a playful lilt in your voice, and you see her eyes light up before dropping to your lips. You close the gap before you can think too hard about it, brushing your mouth against hers. Your boldness surprises both of you and she chuckles darkly. 

“Whatever you want. Surely you have some things you want to explore, or else you wouldn’t be here,” she says, thumb coming up to tug at your bottom lip. You flick your tongue out against it and her eyebrow raises, urging you on. 

You shrug noncommittally, suddenly feeling much more confident. “Just wanted to spice things up a bit. See if there was any trouble I could get in tonight.” 

Agatha rests her head on her hand, dark eyes drinking you in. “Do you really want trouble though? Or do you want to be a good girl?” A tiny gasp slips out at the praise. 

“I can be whatever you want me to be,” you answer honestly and she draws you back in for a real kiss this time, all tongue and teeth and lips, and you can taste a hint of cinnamon in her mouth. She devours you like she can’t get enough until you have to stop to breathe. 

Agatha steps back and tugs you away by the hand, leaving the drinks the bartender had just put down in front of you. 

Figures that when you finally get your drink, you don’t even get to have it. 

But you can’t complain, because Agatha is weaving you through the crowd of people on the main floor, giving you the grand tour of the place. You see groups experimenting with ropes and someone teaching how to tie safe knots, you see spanking and flogging, the list goes on. 

Your head is spinning. 

Agatha stops outside a door in the back and looks back at you. “You don’t have to do anything that you won’t want to do, okay? You can say no at any point.” 

You gulp at the serious tone in her voice and nod. She pushes the door open and turns on the lights so you can see. 

Stepping into the room, your breath catches. Three out of four walls, including the one that the door is on, is covered from ceiling to floor in mirrors. The fourth wall, the one to the right of the door, is glass, looking into an adjoining room with couches facing you. 

In the middle of the room, there’s something akin to a hospital cot, although more comfortable-looking, a machine of sorts with a dildo attached to it, and then a table in the corner with more sex toys than you've ever seen in your entire life combined. There’s a chest under it and you can only imagine what’s in there.

“Jesus,” you rasp, taking it all in. You know you should be terrified, but with Agatha standing next to you just carefully watching, you feel eerily calm. “Do you – uh, what do you want me to do?” 

She tucks a piece of hair behind your ear and cups your chin. “What do you want, sweetheart? I can give you anything.” 

Your mind goes a hundred miles a minute to try and figure out what you want, eyes darting back and forth between all the things in the room. “What are my options?” 

“Well,” she says slowly. “The second I hit this button –” She motions to a circle on the wall. “The light above the door to the other room will turn green and unlock and people can come in. I can hit it or not, completely up to you. Or it could just be the two of us in here, and I could make you feel so good, baby. Fingers, mouth, strap-ons, the machine, any toy you’d like. Whatever you want to explore or try, we could do it.” 

Her clinical words have you dripping. Hearing her say all the things she could do to you only makes you want all of it more. 

One thing gives you pause though. “People…would watch?” You say, trying out the words. You’ve never thought about having an audience for sex before. 

Agatha’s eyes darken. “A pretty young thing like you? Honey, people would do more than just watch.” 

You let out a small gasp. You know you should feel dirty, but the way she says it, like people would be so turned on watching you and Agatha that they’d have to do something about it, makes you feel like you’re floating. 

“But the door can stay locked,” she reassures, taking your silence as a bad thing. Little does she know, heat is coursing through you at the thought. 

“No,” you peep. “It’s okay.” 

Before doing anything, she grasps onto your cheeks and pulls you in for a long kiss. You swoon, knees almost buckling when her tongue slides into your mouth, and she moans at your taste. 

You didn’t know having this affect on an older woman would be this addicting. 

“Fuck, baby,” she groans, tugging on your bottom lip with her teeth and making you whimper. “I think you’re the most delicious thing we’ve ever had in here.” 

“Agatha,” you pant and you don’t miss her sharp inhale at the way you say her name. 

“Yeah, sweetheart?” 

“I want you,” you tell her, kissing her earnestly again, and you did not imagine this was how your night was going to go in your wildest dreams. 

She finally breaks the kiss for air, resting her forehead against yours. “Get on the bed,” she orders, and you see a hardened glint in her eye, like something has shifted inside her. 

There’s no way to ignore how much that turns you on. A small noise escapes from your lips and you scramble to obey, sitting upright on the cot. 

She starts to make her way over to you slowly, but you stop her. “Can you hit the button?” You ask, voice small and timid, but sure of yourself. 

You see desire flit over her face as she smirks knowingly. The moment her hand presses it, you let out a quiet groan and clench around nothing. 

There’s a clicking sound and the door to the other room opens. Five people file in and take a seat on the couches and your breathing becomes heavy. There’s a slight murmur from the other side of the glass, but it’s all incoherent. 

But by the way they’re all looking at you, you don’t have to try that hard to figure out what they’re talking about.

“First things first,” Agatha says, now walking over to you. She’s whispering so your audience can’t hear. “Do you know what a safeword is?” 

You nod. 

“What do you want yours to be?” 

Your heartbeat picks up. “Will I need one?” 

Agatha shrugs. “Better to be safe than sorry. I promise I’m not going to go hard on you. At least not for your first time.” She winks and you feel a visceral ache inside of you. 

“Purple,” you say after thinking about it for a minute. She smirks at your choice and runs a hand through her hair. 

She looks you up and down again, just to make sure there’s no sign of hesitation. “Do you want to take your dress off?” She asks and you feel a pang of longing inside you for her. 

You stand up, nodding, and turn around so she can help you with the zipper. You can hear her chuckle from behind you and you watch in the mirror on the wall as her eyes drop lower as she unzips you. 

She peels the dress down your body and you step out of it, the entire thing feeling a bit surreal. Watching the scene through your reflection makes you feel like an outsider, like it’s not actually you in the mirror. 

Same hair, same face, same body, same lacy lingerie you put on earlier, but not the same person.

But when you watch Agatha plant kisses on the person’s neck and you feel them, you’re reminded that it is you. 

Your head drops back as her teeth scrape against your taunt veins and she sucks harder, pulling more sounds from your mouth. 

It’s a sight to see, the marks on your neck, the darkness of Agatha’s eyes, the way it looks like when her teeth sink into your skin.

Your breathing is ragged now and you can feel your slick on your inner thighs. 

“Please,” you beg, although you’re not quite sure what you’re asking for. Just more. 

Her grin in the mirror shows you that she understands completely. “Get on the bed.” This time, her voice is sharp, all traces of the softness from earlier gone. 

The scene has started. 

You clamber onto the cot, hoping it looks more sexy than you feel, and lay down on your back. Agatha comes to the side of you and pries open your legs, baring your covered, dripping pussy to the audience. You notice that more people have come in, and they’re hanging onto every movement. 

“God, you’re soaked,” she remarks, hand roughly cupping you and your hips buck. “Really getting off on this, huh? What a slut.” Her tone is scathing, but her eyes are watching your face carefully, just to make sure she’s not crossing a line. 

She’s not. 

It only makes you wetter and she can feel it. She chuckles condescendingly and you squirm. 

“You want me to touch you?” She asks and you nod your head so hard that it hurts. “Want me to show all these people what a good whore you are for me?” 

“Yes, please,” you gasp out, trying to ride her hand to feel just a little more. The hard pressure against your clit already has you feeling the tension building up in your stomach. 

She smirks and slides your underwear down your legs and holds them to her nose, breathing in your scent. 

“How would you feel about using these as a gag?” She questions conversationally, like she just asked you about the weather instead of something that sears your stomach and turns your world upside down. 

“Yes,” you breathe, desire raw in your voice. You feel like you’re drunk off her and she’s barely done anything to you. 

She grins and nods approvingly. “If you need to stop at any time and you can’t speak, tap me twice. Got it?” 

“Yes,” you say again and open your mouth wide so she can ball up your underwear and shove them inside. You moan at the musky flavor and you had no idea it would be so hot to taste yourself like this. 

Her fingers clasp your throat and you look at her with wide eyes, chest heaving with anticipation of what she’s going to do next. She trails her hand down and pinches your nipples through your bra. You stutter out a curse as she bends down and nips at your skin, tearing the fabric off without removing her mouth. 

And then her tongue swirls at your nipple and you keen, back arching off the bed. You can see the dazed looks on all the voyeurs’ faces, how they shift their weight watching, and it makes you want to show off more so they know just how good Agatha is making you feel. 

You garble around your panties incoherently, fingers twitching against the bed to stop yourself from showing her exactly what you need. 

She chuckles against your skin. “What do you want, baby? What do you need from Mommy?” 

At the pet name for herself, you let out an embarrassing whimper and a flush spreads throughout your body. 

“I thought you’d like that one,” she says smugly and before you can react, she sucks hard on your nipple and shoves two fingers into your waiting and wet cunt. A noise rips its way out of your throat and you throw your head back, hips frantically meeting every thrust. 

She lazily fucks you like she’s barely even trying to make you feel good, but it’s enough for you to get closer to the edge. 

You can’t do anything except take it, matching her thrusts, and your sounds get louder and louder, her fingers twisting and hitting that spot inside of you so perfectly, and you’re about to cum –

– and she yanks her fingers out of you, leaving your hips faltering against nothing. 

She sucks them into her mouth, eyes closing at the taste. “Sorry, baby. But you’re not allowed to cum yet.” She slaps your cunt with her open hand and laughs at the reverberating sound of your wetness.

You whine pathetically around the as she walks around to the table and picks up a dildo and harness. 

“Do you want me to fuck you with this?” She asks, showing it to you and then to the audience. You glance at them to find several bobbing their heads with even more enthusiasm than you have. “Sweetheart?” She says to get your attention. 

You jolt out of the stupor you were in watching them watch you with bated breath and nod breathlessly, babbling senselessly again around the gag.

She smirks and puts the harness on over her clothes. You’re not sure why, but being completely naked while she is still fully clothed only makes it feel dirtier, hotter.  

Agatha attaches the dildo, pours some lube onto her hand and strokes it, and then grabs two silk cloths back over to you. She fishes the underwear out of your mouth and trails of saliva connect it back to your mouth. 

“Get up,” she says roughly and you scramble out of the bed immediately. She turns the cot like it’s nothing, angling it so it’s parallel to the glass instead of perpendicular. 

So the audience will be able to see everything with Agatha fucking you with her strap. The realization makes you squeeze your thighs together, feeling the waterfall between them. 

She beckons you back over and each step you take puts pressure on your aching clit. It’s agonizing and yet, the most alive you’ve ever felt. 

You get back on the bed and she maneuvers you into a position where you’re on your knees near the edge, resting your ass on your heels. You watch yourself in the mirror as she takes both your arms and ties them behind your back with one of the silk cloths. And then she puts the other one around your eyes, so you can’t see anything. 

The change in your body is almost instantaneous. Goosebumps spread all down your skin, you can hear the rustling of Agatha’s clothes behind you, you can feel just how wet you are, you can even smell yourself; every sense has become so much more heightened. 

Her hand gently presses on your back and guides you down, positioning your face against the bed so your ass is up in the air with your hands behind your back. She rubs your cunt, smearing your wetness everywhere. 

“You like being watched don’t you?” She taunts, and while yes, you apparently do, you think it’s more because of her. “Dripping all over my club like a slut, just needing to be fucked.” 

You whimper and sway your hips because it’s all that you can do. And then there’s nothing. She removes her hand and you strain your ears to see if you can hear anything. 

And then without warning, there’s a loud smack on your ass and your body jolts forward, a surprised grunt coming out of your mouth. She soothes the pain with her hand and then the tip of her strap is sliding against your folds and you whine. She presses it against your clit which makes you shudder.

“Beg for it,” Agatha demands and you don’t hesitate. 

“Mommy, please, please I need it so bad, please fuck me,” you chant and are rewarded when she slowly enters you. 

Your mouth falls open but no sounds come out as she begins to thrust, gripping your hips so tightly you know you’ll have bruises. 

You want them.

“God, look at my baby girl taking my cock so well for me,” she coos but you can hear the exertion in her voice as she starts to pound harder. “Such a good slut, such a good pet.” You whine involuntarily and you can practically hear her smirking. You wish to god more than anything that she would take the blindfold off you so you could look in the mirror and see what you looked like. 

It doesn’t take long for you to reach your peak, after already being denied earlier, and you’re about to cum when she pulls out. 

“No,” you sob, convulsing uncontrollably, the feelings of your orgasm tamping down. 

She spanks you again. “What did I say earlier? You’re not allowed to cum yet. And stop pouting before I make you.” With another swat to your ass, she pushes back inside of you and sets the same bruising pace as before. 

It takes you even less time for your lower stomach to tighten, and she pulls out again right as you’re on the precipice. 

“Please, please, Mommy, let me cum,” you cry, your entire body shaking. 

She laughs cynically and starts fucking you again. You’re fully unable to move, just being rocked back and forth with her thrusts, nothing more than a glorified toy for her to use. 

And she does use you. She brings you to the edge and then stops at least five more times, and you’ve completely lost the ability to think. Words spill out of your mouth like you’re drunk on Agatha, which you think you might be. 

You’ve never felt this thoroughly ruined before. 

But this time, when she pulls out, she doesn’t push back in. You feel her hands untying the restraint on your wrist and then on your hips, flipping your pliable body over so you’re on your back. She bends your legs up on the edge and rips the blindfold off and the light, even though dim, hurts your eyes. 

“How are you doing?” She murmurs, scanning your blissed out face for any sense of discomfort. 

You babble something along the lines of “I’m good” or at least you try to. You’re not actually sure what she hears. 

But she smiles genuinely nonetheless and leans down to peck your forehead. “You’ve done so well for me, pet. I think it’s time for a reward.” 

“I get to cum?” You ask weakly and she chuckles. 

“Oh yes, baby. You’ll get to cum as many times as you want.” Your heart leaps at the promise and she drags over the machine with the dildo. Your breathing quickens and she angles it up so it’s positioned right at your stretched-out cunt. 

Before you can even breathe, she smiles wickedly and turns it on. Your head falls back and your back arches up violently when it begins fucking into you. The pace never falters and you cum almost instantly. 

Agatha leaves your side but comes back seconds later, holding a vibrator. You moan pornographically loud when she turns it on and positions it against your clit. 

You cum again shortly after. 

The machine keeps thrusting inside you, faster than you’ve ever been fucked, and the direct stimulation against the most sensitive part of your body has you practically sobbing at the pleasure. 

It doesn’t take long before you’re cumming again, and then another one weakly rolls over your body. 

But it’s too much now, all the edging and now the overstimulation is hurting so you start to squirm away from it. 

She instantly catches on and drops the vibrator before rushing to turn off the machine. 

You pant heavily on the bed, completely spent, and she lets you calm down, gently stroking your hair. 

Even though you know you have an entire audience, all you can see is her. 

“How was that?” She asks. “Too much?” 

You shake your head, feeling the slight sheen of sweat everywhere and all you can think about is needing to shake a shower. 

And when you can see Agatha again. 

“No, it was perfect,” you say truthfully, your voice hoarse. She smiles and kisses your lips. 

“We’re open Thursdays through Sundays,” she says and you laugh. “Come back anytime, baby. Although, keep coming back and putting on a performance like that, I might have to keep you all for myself.” 

Nothing has ever sounded so good. 

[aninipanin1]

I think that Anri begs adult manager! reader to force Ego to eat an actual meal that isn’t those instant noodles

EW, VEGETABLES...?

Notes: I actually love this so much, anon lol

"Good morning, Anri-san. How may I help you today?"

You greeted your fellow female manager, figure hunched over the washing machine, scrubbing the white linen sheets from the many rooms around the facility, especially the one that legit had an oyster sauce spill, leaving a spot darkened.

Anri gave her a large smile, one that is familiar, at first before her, she reached some sort of 'Eureka' moment, and her smile turned into one of disappointment she did not think of it earlier along with a hint of mischief in it.

"Actually, can you help me with something, Y/n?"

"Oh, of course! What do I do?"

The redhaired manager motioned for her to come closer, to which she followed. Cupping her hand around your ear, Anri whispered the 'task' she wanted you to do.

As she spoke, the wider your eyes became. How will you even pull this off?

"But, Anri-san..! You know how much he loves his noodles...and how he doesn't really like me."

You always thought that Ego Jinpachi, the head and director of the Blue Lock facility, never seemed to like you. He wasn't rude to you (you think because he talked to you the way he did to everyone else), but you can definitely see that he would go out of his way to avoid talking to you, approaching you or anything related to talking with you alone without Anri, unless it was something prefessional and work-related.

He also always scolds you. You know, it was just because of the betterment of the project. But why did he have to scold you for just being around Noel Noa or any of the master strikers? They were the ones handling the improvement of the boys. Of course, you need to be around them! Well, it was one of the many things you noticed, but you digressed. After all, you know you cannot please everyone, especially in a workplace environment.

So, you were a little shocked when Anri tilted her head at you, confused about your claim.

"Ego-san...doesn't like you?"

"Um, isn't it obvious, Anri-san? He doesn't really like talking to me at all, and when you aren't there with us, he will always avoid talking to me even if I try to make casual conversations! Also, he always scolds me for the stupidest reasons! Why does he get mad when I talk to Noa-san, Snuffy-san, Prince-san, or even Lavinho-san, I will never understand! It's my job to make sure that the boys are doing well and I can only make sure of that through the master strikers!"

You did not know when you started ranting, but you did. Anri, who listened to you with open ears, could not help but chuckle on the inside. She felt quite amused and also disappointed at Ego. But, she cannot say she was not surprised. Ego was one, if not the most emotionally constipated person she had ever met. It was not a surprise that he would try to avoid you.

But, why did he have to do all those things? It wasn't helping his cause at all!

'You better thank me for what I am doing, Ego-san.'

"Ego-san! Um..."

You stood there in the office where the said man was watching the many screens, watching over the progress of the players who were all training in their own ways. In your hands was a tray filled with sautéed vegetables, a bowl of rice, and some chicken in a bowl you cooked just for the man.

Even if you think he hates you, you can not just ignore someone who is literally putting their life in danger because they don't want to eat healthy things. You aren't messed up like that!

But, you did not know how to approach this, much less him. How will you even ask him to do this, much less with the strained relationship you two had? This was a really bad idea! Why did Anri have to approach you of all people for this-

"What is it?"

He turned his swivel chair to face you, his eyes a bit lidded to show that he was not that happy for being interrupted.

"I made some extra food, and uh...I thought you may want to have it."

'That's so stupid, Y/n!'

He raised an eyebrow at this, and it did not help that the look on his face showed that he did not approve of eating the pallate on the tray.

"Y/n-chan, you know I don't eat those things."

"I know...! I just didn't want to waste it. Anri-san said she already ate so..."

Ego did not say anything, turning his swivel chair to face the screens again. Just as you were about to give up and leave the room thinking that he would not accept the food at all, he raised his arm and pointed to an empty space on the desk.

"Put it there. Don't blame me if I don't eat it and it becomes rotten."

Blinking at his words, you just nodded your head, a bit dazed that he actually considered even being near the food. You did as he told before bowing and leaving to do your other chores and duties.

Needless to say, when Anri entered Ego's office, she was shocked to see the man munching on a bowl of rice with chicken and vegetables on top. His eyes were still focused on the screen, back hunched in a weird position, but he was indeed eating.

"Did Y/n pass by here..?"

"She did. Dropped this...abomination and her paperwork."

Ego answered, pointing to the food that he called 'abomination,' yet he was still eating the food, cheeks round with food. Anri nodded, yet it was obvious she did not believe the disgusted look in his face to which he only glared at her for.

"You're the one who said it. The facility should not waste food." He pointed his chopstick at her.

"Yeah, yeah. It's totally not because you favour her, definitely not." Anri shrugged, a cheeky smile as she headed out the room once she dropped the paperwork.

'I'm surrounded by simps, haahh...' She inwardly sighed.

ADDITIONAL TIME!

Anri: You like her.

Ego: No, I don't.

Also Ego: *proceeds to hoard every single thing Y/n gave him, yes, even if it was the inkless pen she passed to him to throw in the trash.*

I'm sorry if this was too short, hahaha. I didn't really know how to go deeper into this. But I hope you loved this!

Blue Lock is WRITTEN by Kaneshiro Muneyuki and ILLUSTRATED by Nomura Yusuke. All credits to the both of them.

[srslyblvck]

injured, five hargreeves

pairing: five hargreeves x gn!reader

synopsis: you and five hated each other, everyone knew that. you both bickered like children. so what happens when you are in front of his house, injured?

genre: fluff

warnings: blood, injuries

word count: 0.7k

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ YOU NEVER LIKED FIVE. He was insufferable, arrogant, and always acted like he was the smartest person in the room—which, unfortunately, was often true. But that didn't make him any less intolerable. The feeling was mutual, and everyone in the Commission knew it. They watched in bewilderment as the two of you hurled insults at each other, yet when it came to missions, you both worked like a well-oiled machine. The IT duo, they called you, though you’d never admit you found some satisfaction in that title.

But the minute the mission was over, the bickering resumed. It was like you couldn't help it. He’d make a snide remark, and you’d fire back, both of you sparking a fire that never quite died down. It was exhausting, but in some twisted way, it kept you sharp.

Tonight, however, was different.

you were stumbling down a dimly lit alley, clutching your bleeding side, blood seeping through your fingers with every step. The world around you was blurring, spinning, and you couldn’t think straight. You didn’t know where to go, or who to turn to. Your mind was a fog of pain, but one name pushed through the haze—Five.

It made no sense. He was the last person you’d ever willingly go to for help. But at that moment, with death breathing down your neck, his house was the only place you could think of, the only place that might be safe. Even if he was the last person you wanted to see right now.

So you forced your legs to move, one agonizing step at a time, until you found yourself at his door, barely holding on. You raised a shaky hand and knocked, the sound weak against the door. A part of you hoped he wouldn’t be home, that you’d pass out here and this whole mess would be over. But the door swung open, and there he was, staring at you with a mix of shock and disbelief.

You tried to say something, but all you could manage was a weak whisper. "I didn't know where else to go..."

Your vision blurred as you felt your knees buckle, and the world started to fade to black. Before you could hit the ground, though, you felt strong arms catch you, holding you up.

Five's heart pounded in his chest as he looked down at you, barely conscious and bleeding. He hated you—no, he loathed you—but seeing you like this, broken and vulnerable, sparked something he couldn’t quite place. He muttered a curse under his breath as he picked you up, carrying you inside with surprising gentleness.

He laid you on his bed, his eyes scanning your body for the source of the blood. The sight of you like this made something twist in his gut, something he didn’t want to acknowledge. But there was no time for that. You needed help, and fast.

He grabbed a first aid kit, hands trembling slightly as he opened it. His eyes lingered on the hem of your shirt, drenched in blood. He knew he had to remove it, but he hesitated, cursing himself for feeling so conflicted. Finally, he shook his head, forcing himself to focus. If he didn’t do this, you’d die.

Carefully, he peeled the bloody shirt away, averting his eyes from anything but the wound on your side. It was bad—deep, and still bleeding heavily. He worked quickly, cleaning and bandaging it as best as he could. Every few moments, he glanced at your face, now pale and eerily still, his mind racing with thoughts he didn’t want to have.

Who did this to you? Who would dare lay a hand on you?

The thought of someone else hurting you filled him with a rage he hadn’t expected, a simmering anger that only intensified with every glance at your unconscious form. If he found out who did this, they’d regret ever crossing you.

As he finished bandaging your side, he grabbed a hoodie from his closet. He carefully slipped it over your head, his fingers brushing against your skin as he did. He was cautious, trying not to hurt you more than you already were.

As he finished, he sat beside you, his mind racing. The sight of you so vulnerable, so close to death, shook him more than he cared to admit. He hated you, or at least that’s what he told himself every time you exchanged sharp words or shot him a scathing glare. But seeing you like this stirred something in him that he couldn’t quite place—a protectiveness he didn’t know he had.

He clenched his fists, staring at the ground, forcing himself to remember all the reasons he couldn’t stand you. The way you challenged him, the way you never backed down, the way you always had to have the last word. But as he glanced at your pale face, a different thought crept into his mind—what if you hadn’t made it to his doorstep?

Five shook his head, pushing the thought away, refusing to let it take root. He wasn’t going to dwell on that, wasn’t going to let himself feel anything other than annoyance. You’d live, you’d recover, and then you’d go back to bickering like you always did. That’s how it had to be.

But for now, he stayed by your side, watching over you, waiting for the moment when you’d open your eyes and start another argument. And for once, he found himself looking forward to it.

[love-letters-and-lotus-blossom]

Romance Alphabet: Donatello's Version.

💜A is for Adoration: what does he adore about you? Donatello adores a kind nature, someone who treats others softly. He’s always thought that the world could use a little more kindness so the fact that you’re so kind is something he adores about you! You’re always helping out around the lair, hanging with his brothers and Master Splinter (his family is the most important thing in the world to him), and just taking care of everyone but especially him.

💜B is for Bloom: what flowers does he give you? Of course he knows your very favorite! But personally, Donatello also loves to give you stargazer lilies (purity, innocence, sympathy) and purple roses (enchantment, mystery, love). He likes to leave a single bloom on your pillow or windowsill, just so you know that he’s thinking of you.

💜C is for Caring: how does he care for you? How do you care for him? Donnie cares for you through acts of service. He likes helping you in any way he can, fixing stuff around your apartment, putting up a security system, anything! Ask and you shall receive. But Donnie needs to be cared for by force. He’ll work and work until he’s at the point of falling apart if you let him so don’t let him. Make him take a break, take a shower, get something to eat, you're the perfect temptation for it. As long as he gets to cuddle with you and mumble about some program he’s working on or a machine he’s trying to fix up, he’ll let himself be distracted for a while.

💜D is for Date: what is date night like? Going out is, obviously, not doable. So you stay in, sometime at the lair and sometimes (for more privacy) at your place. Order some take out (he loves pizza, of course, and Chinese), cuddle up on the couch, and watch a show together. Donnie prefers TV over movies and you always have a show you watch. But he’s a romantic at heart and expresses it softly. Stringing up fairy lights to set the mood, buying your favorite foods when you’re down, dancing with you to love songs. And he always takes a picture, Donnie has a little box full of memories from past dates.

💜E is for Eye: what catches his eye? Donatello’s a sucker for a girl in a pretty dress or skirt, a pair of glasses perched on her nose, or a cute smile/laugh. Wearing purple also works, he loves seeing his favorite color on you! Any of these are sure to catch his eye, he’ll be sneaking glances and flirting all night long.

💜F is for Fervent: how does he express his passion? Softly and quietly. Donnie struggled to put it into words without rambling and sounding like an idiot, so he shuts up and just shows you how he feels through just touching you. He holds your hand (and especially loves when you walk holding onto his arm), plays with your hair, hides his face in your neck and kisses it, whispering sweet nothings into you. If he’s really fervent, his kisses will become messy and frantic, laughter spilling into the air.

“Donnie!”

“I can’t help it, dove...I just love you too much.”

💜G is for Gifts: what sort of gifts does he give and receive? He likes to make you things, from fixing up old electronics (to the point that they work way better, it’s super impressive and a side gig of his) to making jewelry from scrap metal, once he even tried his hand at crocheting your favorite animal for you. It...did not turn out quite right. Rufus is a little funky looking and lopsided but you love him anyway! In fact, you made an equally cute girlfriend for him and gave her to Donnie (he named her Fran, after his favorite sitcom). For Donnie, he likes useful things (clothes, scraps for his tinkering), cute things (little trinkets, pictures of you), and food. Feed him and he’ll be the happiest guy in NYC, especially sweets!

💜H is for Heartthrob: how do you make his heart race? Donnie is very easily flustered, so have fun with that! Any little thing can get him stuttering over his words, blushing, tripping, heart racing, the works. Flirting with him, calling him silly pet names, sending him selfies, stealing kisses. You’ll leave him feeling dizzy from loving you too much, but he’s not mad about it!

💜I is for Intimate: what are intimate moments like? Very sweet and quiet. He’s not a loud guy, when he has a moment with you, Donnie likes to settle down into the quiet. Conversation will be kept to a whisper, his arms are holding you to his heart, leaning low to whisper softly and kiss your neck. He could spend forever and ever just like this, the two of you on some rooftop somewhere, looking out over the city as twilight glimmers overhead, a few faint stars starting to shine.

“Should we go home, Don?”

“Let’s just...let’s just wait here a moment, dove.”

💜J is for Jewelry: what sort of jewelry does he give you? Keeping to his favorite color, Donatello likes to give you amethyst jewelry. Rings, a pretty pendant on a black choker, earrings, just anything little thing he can find or fix up for you. He loves when you wear them and especially when he overheard a neighbor complimenting your earrings, your voice happily chirping back that your boyfriend got them for you.

💜K is for Kiss: how does he kiss you? Softly, sweetly, all the time, on every part of you that he can kiss. He can’t kiss you in front of others (but you can get away with stealing a kiss, Donnie just sitting there all flustered as his brothers tease him) but the moment you’re alone, he can’t stop kissing you. He’s especially fond of kissing your neck and shoulders. Kissing you is one of his favorite things to do.

💜L is for Love Letters: Does he write letters? Do you? Do love texts count? He’s not a pen and paper guy but you do a lot of talking through texts and he can get very romantic. Sometimes you’ll just get a flurry of texts because he was thinking about you and got overwhelmed by the emotion.

“I miss you.”

“It’s weird because the lair just feels so lonely without you here, I’m so used to you and all the cute things you do. Humming as you walk around, hanging out with me while I work, just...you. You make it better.”

“You make everything better.”

“I just miss you and love you.”

But if he’s leaving the city for one reason or another, he’ll actually write love letters through email, very long and sappy ones.

💜M is for Magnetic: What first draws him to you? Your kindness. He’d noticed you, actually, before officially meeting you. You live around the lair and they’re familiar with all the people who live around there, so Donnie definitely noticed the pretty girl who always stopped to help someone and fed the strays on the streets and had such a sweet smile. Mikey and Raph liked to tease him about it, pointing you out whenever they passed by and calling you his “little girlfriend.” Only now you are his girlfriend and he can be all proud about it instead of getting nervous/annoyed.

💜N is for Need: What are his needs? How do you meet them? Donnie needs patience most of all. His lifestyle is, well, weird and he overworks himself and he’s not good at the whole romance thing at first. So you’ll need to be patient, to understand that he truly loves you and is truly trying, and to give him time. Sometimes you’ll have to force him to take that time but he understands that he can get into his own head on, occasionally, needs to be brought back down to earth.

💜O is for Open: how open is he with you? Donatello opens up fairly quickly and there are no secrets between the two of you. Though it takes him a moment to learn this lesson, he’s of the opinion that secrets will only pull you apart but honesty will bring you both together. So you know everything about him (even the pop-tart thing, he told you before one of his brother’s could) and he knows everything about you. Deepest fears, secrets, worries, hopes, dreams, it’s all out in the open with the two of you.

💜P is for Pet names: what does he call you? He has two nicknames for you, dove (because they’re his favorite bird and so pretty, just like you) and darling. While he rarely uses them in front of others, he does it a lot in private and your name in his contacts is either “My Dove 🕊️” or “My Darling⭐”.

💜Q is for Quiet: what are quiet moments together like? Quiet moments are his dream come true! There’s nothing more Donnie likes than to cuddle up with you in bed, a giant mug of coffee for him, and something to do together. He likes reading, of course, and will read anything and everything. Or perhaps a TV show playing, a video game, or building a Lego set, but honestly, he just wants to hold you close and keep you for a while.

💜R is for Reminisce: what is his favorite memory with you? The moment you met. As stated, he’d seen you around and thought you were cute and kind but it was nothing more than that. Just stolen looks. That is, until, Mikey got knocked off a rooftop during a fight and came crash landing through your living room window and...you didn’t freak out. Well, you did, but not about the giant turtle, rather about the fact that he was cut up and bruised and bleeding and you were worried about him. Donnie came racing in to see you kneeling beside his brother, trying to stop the bleeding, and you just stole his heart. He never got it back so, the ninja that he is, he stole yours in retaliation.

💜S is for Song: what's your song? Aphrodite by The Ridleys. It came to him long before you were dating, back when he was just another boy in love and thinking about you as he worked, music playing in his lab. It came on and he just...got lost in it. In you. And later on, when you were finally dating and he took you dancing on the rooftops, this was the first song he played.

💜T is for Touch: is he touchy? Super touchy, in a shy sort of way. He loves to hold and touch you and keep you close because, holy crap, you’re real. You are everything he ever dreamed of, everything he ever wanted in a woman, and, even crazier than that, you want him back. Can you believe that? He can’t. So he touches you all of the time to know that you’re real and here and you love him.

💜U is for Unique: what's a cute quirk of his? He tends to doodle while thinking and, more often than not, he’s scribbling things that remind him of you and writing your name too. Little bits of you are all over the place and his brothers like to tease him about that, holding up a note covered in flowers and schematics and doves and your name with a “really” look on their face.

💜V is for Value: what does he value in a relationship? Honesty, affection, and patience. Donnie needs someone he can be himself with, someone who can understand how crazy and hard his life is and help him through it. But he also wants to help you through your own stuff and be there for you as much as you are for him. More than anything else, he loves affection. Pet names, cuddling, kissing, just hearing your voice and feeling your touch is heaven to him.

💜W is for Warmth: what are cozy moments like? Super sweet! He’s got blankets, a pile of pillows, books and food and, best of all, you. Having it be a rainy/windy/snowy day outside just makes it even better.

💜X is for X-ray: what's something he keeps close to the heart? Just how terrified he is of losing you. When you’ve dreamed of something for so long and finally found it, the idea that something could take it all away is terrifying. He does worry a lot and he expresses that and you’re always there to help him through it but the fears won’t go away. Maybe they never will.

💜Y is for Yearning: How did he yearn for you? Through stolen glances and little touches and late nights spent thinking about you. It took Donnie a long, long time to work up the courage to ask you out and that time was spent quietly in love with you, to the point that you didn’t realize his feelings but his brothers and Splinter absolutely did.

💜Z is for Zzzz: what are late nights like? Late nights are simple. He’s been up too long and working too hard, as usual. So once you’ve started to worry about him, you do something about it because he’ll just keep going like this if no one stops him. So you make something to eat and drag him out of the lab, sitting him down and having a very late dinner together. Then you drag him to bed with you, Donnie too tired and too in love to fight it, he always says the same thing as he drifts off to sleep.

“Sweet dreams, dove…”

[laurfilijames]

Breathe

Part 7

Pairing: Will 'Ironhead' Miller x female reader

Words: 6.9k

Warnings: Rated E, 18+. Swearing. Trauma/PTSD/nightmares/insomnia. Unprotected intercourse.

Summary: Unanswered questions amp up every emotion that time does nothing to lessen, and so much uncertainty raises the concern if everything will turn out okay or if moving on is the only answer.

A/N: Less hurt than the last chapter, I promise! Thank you to everyone who was so enthusiastic and responsive to it and made all that angst worth writing!

Photo by @avatarskingdom and edited by me. Please do not use without permission or credit. Headers by the wonderful @spaghettificationandpretzels!

Chapter Playlist

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

---

You felt numb as much as you felt angry, scared and heartbroken.

It was all still so surreal, having to remind yourself constantly that Will broke up with you and was gone, the persistent sick feeling in your stomach growing with every thought of his life being at risk and that even though he was no longer yours, you might never see him again.

You did everything you could to understand his side of things, but with that your frustration increased wildly, the fact that he hadn't even given you the chance to be there for him stinging almost as much as him abandoning what you knew, or thought, you had.

Did he really believe you wouldn’t support him, that you didn’t care enough about him to give him space and time while he dealt with all the things he needed to, that your love for him simply wasn’t enough for him to want to hold onto while he was deployed, that everything you thought you had been building was broken and false?

The toaster popped, shooting your slice of bread out, making you jump after forgetting you were even waiting for it.

You ate because you had to, but food tasted bleak and flavourless, and everything that landed in your stomach felt like it sat there and made your nausea even worse.

You had made a whole lasagna earlier just because, giving you something to do for the better part of an hour, but the thought of eating it was so unappealing and you had the idea that maybe you would drop it off for Benny. Taking a bite out of the plain piece of toast, you thought how awful it might feel to go over to the Miller’s house right now, and decided against it, opting to freeze the lasagna for another time instead.

Another bite and the toast was in the trash, and you stood in the middle of your kitchen unmoving, not sure what to do with yourself next.

You hadn’t slept, and whether it was fatigue or just your grief pummeling you, you broke down and sobbed, your body shaking as the memory of Will holding you in his arms in this very spot flooded you, dancing one night while in the middle of cleaning up dinner, pausing almost anything in favour of stealing a piece of each other.

Work was a welcomed distraction, forcing you to go through the motions and function like everything was normal, able to allow you to bury your emotions for the course of a shift and nearly forget about what had happened, only to have it all come back the moment you got in your car and started your drive home, knowing you had nothing to look forward to.

You hadn’t been back to the gym since the day you saw both brothers there all beat up from their brawl with each other, your body too exhausted and weak to even consider working out, but as you sat at your kitchen table with nothing else to do, you went and changed into your gym clothes and drove over.

It was busy enough, observing the evening crowd enough to keep you entertained as you walked on the Stair Master, each step automatic and absent-minded.

Through a few people and machines you spotted Benny, resting on a bench between sets of chest presses, his smile and slightly awkward wave making you feel equally so, and as he stood and started weaving his way over to you, you felt bad that he probably felt obligated to talk to you.

You stopped the machine and stepped down, grabbing your things in the assumption you would probably feel like leaving after this conversation, your water bottle shaking in your hand that trembled with nerves and adrenaline.

“Hey,” Benny said, somewhat hesitantly.

“Hey, Benny,” you answered, smoothing your hand over your sweaty hair.

“How’re you doing?”

You sighed, looking down at the floor as you shook your head. “Do you want the fake answer or the honest one?”

Benny huffed a laugh in understanding. “You look like shit.”

You laughed out of disbelief, bringing yourself to look at him as he scratched his head and tried to recover.

“I mean- fuck.”

“No, I look like shit. Feel like it too,” you confirmed, reassuring his observations.

“Are you looking after yourself?” he asked, his face full of concern.

You shrugged, “As much as I can, I guess.”

He nodded, sympathetic to your feelings. “Are you eating? Sleeping?”

“Here and there. Not much of both if I’m honest.”

“Yeah, I get it. Just do your best even though it’s hard.”

You hummed. “Does it get any easier?”

He tilted his head a bit. “Does what get easier?”

“The worry, the waiting…”

“Oh, uh…” he pulled his ball cap up off his head, smoothed his hair back and placed it back on again, this time backwards. “Yeah, I guess we all just get used to it in a way. But I’d be lying if I said that everyday you’re half expecting to get that phone call…”

He saw the tears in your eyes well to the surface, and unlike most times, Benny felt a bit speechless.

“I can’t stop thinking about him,” you admitted, your words not even directed at Benny, but rather said aloud simply because you couldn’t keep them in.

“Ugh, I’m sorry,” you went on, wiping your eyes and shaking your head like it would suddenly shake away your feelings. “I’m gonna get going, see you later.”

“Yeah, of course,” Benny responded, his voice soft. “Hey,” he called after you, making you pause and turn half-way to face him.

“Just don’t give up on him yet.”

You gave a weak smile. “I couldn’t if I wanted to.”

You made it to your car before you really fell apart, the tears coming down your face so hot and fast you could barely see to unlock the door, and when you flopped down into the seat, you rested your head against the steering wheel and wept.

The most overwhelming sense of panic came over you, taking control over everything and trapping you in it, your mind racing with every horrible thought imaginable, and before you could realize, your breathing had turned short and gasping, your mouth desperately trying to suck in air between sobs.

Your hands wrapped around yourself, squeezing you tighter than the grip of the anxiety attack was, feeling your whole body shaking and trembling and all you wanted to do was scream.

That was when Will’s soothing voice popped in your head, urging you to focus on your breaths and count each one, the sound of the numbers in his even tone allowing you to stop the panic, and you began counting out loud until your breathing eventually leveled out.

How could the same person who was the reason you were feeling this way manage to help calm you, you thought, exhaling slowly as everything around you started to come into focus again.

You ran your hands over your face, your body still shaking with each inhalation though they had become more regular, knowing that as much as you were hurt and betrayed, you still loved Will more than you could imagine loving anything.

Benny’s phone rang not thirty seconds after he’d just hung up, Will’s number lighting up his screen suspiciously close to him ending his conversation with Tom.

He pressed the green button to answer it, and before he could even get out a ‘hey’, Will’s voice stopped him.

“Are you checking up on me?”

“Uhh-”

“I heard Redfly talking to you, idiot.”

Benny scratched his head, trying to gauge which way this was about to go.

“If you’re wondering how I am, just ask me, Ben.”

“Yeah, well, sometimes that’s easier said than done,” he quipped, recalling how many forced conversations they’d had lately where Will gave short, vague answers to everything.

“What the fuck does that mean?”

Benny sighed, lifting his arm up in exasperation before letting it fall and hit his side, “I dunno, man, I just thought I’d get a truthful answer out of Redfly over you. He’s with you every day and can tell how you are.”

He heard Will sigh, and Benny took the pause as a chance to give his brother the opportunity to tell him for himself.

“So, how are you, then?”

Will sighed heavily again. “I don’t fucking know anymore. Okay, I guess?” he said, his uncertainty clear.

“Tom said things are going well with the op, and despite it all you seem like you’ve got your head in the game.”

“Yeah, that’s all fine,” Will explained, like his role as a Captain on this tour was the least of his worries. “It’s everything else…”

“Yeah…” Benny agreed, holding space for Will to continue.

“How’s she doing? Have you seen her?”

“Saw her at the gym yesterday,” Benny said carefully, trying to decide if it would be better or worse to tell him she wasn’t doing well, but ultimately knowing if he wanted Will to be honest, he would have to be too. “She’s not doing good, man.”

Will was silent, making Benny pull the phone away from his ear to check if the call had dropped or not.

“I can’t believe I did this to her,” he said quietly.

“Yeah, well,” Benny said flatly, “What’s done is done, now you just have to focus on finishing this job and getting back home so you can fix it.”

“Do you think there will be anything left to fix?”

Benny blew the air out of his mouth slowly. “That’s up to you two. If you both want it to work out…”

“That’s what I’m worried about. By the time I get back she’ll have moved on and learned to hate me.”

“You don’t know that,” Benny countered. Able to tell the expression that would be on Will’s face right now, he continued. “She still loves you man.”

“I wish she didn’t. She deserves better, not this shit…”

Benny’s heart ached for his brother, hating that he was going through this on top of being back in action, praying his stress didn’t get the better of him or be the cause of any fatal mistakes.

“Listen, man, I gotta go,” Will spoke, his voice weak and quiet.

“Yeah, okay. Be careful out there.”

“Always.”

The beep of the call ending sounded in Benny’s ear before there was even the chance to consider saying anything else, and he hoped Will would hang onto the thought that maybe it wasn’t all lost yet.

Days turned into weeks, but the amount of time that was passing didn’t help to make things feel any better, making you wonder every day if it would ever stop hurting.

Anger grew as you wracked your brain combing through every detail of every conversation and act that could've led to this, wondering where it was that you went wrong, but you still couldn’t pinpoint the moment Will gave up on loving you or what it was that made him peel away. It almost hurt just as much as him being gone did, unable to know what the cause was so you could try to rectify it and simply get closure as to why it ended, your heart like an open wound that would never heal.

You looked at yourself in the mirror one last time before exiting your room, on your way to meet two of your girlfriends for a quiet drink, your attempts to refuse unaccepted.

You couldn’t deny that it would possibly help get your mind off of Will, but you knew it was futile as everything you did and everywhere you went, he was there.

“That guy can’t stop looking over here at you,” Grace said through a grin as she nudged you with her elbow, and you twisted in your chair slightly to follow her gaze.

You took a sip of your wine as you assessed the man with dark brown hair and brown eyes staring directly at you, his smile bright and clean, his lips plump and inviting.

You said nothing as you turned back to your friends, raising your eyebrows as if that was a response that would appease anyone.

“Come on, he’s gorgeous!” Nicole urged, tilting her head indignantly.

“I never said he wasn’t!” you defended, but in your head all you could think was how he wasn’t Will.

“You need a rebound fuck,” Grace suggested, and the thought made your stomach flip.

“I’m not ready for any of that yet,” you admitted, hoping they would understand how raw everything still felt.

“We know,” Nicole sympathized, giving your hand a squeeze as she placed hers overtop, and you knew they would support you in anything whether it was continuing to miss Will with every part of your being or hooking up with the next man who walked by.

“Oh shit, he’s coming over,” Grace blurted, adjusting in her seat as a wide smile appeared on her face.

Your heart plummeted in your gut, and you sighed, praying this wouldn’t be as horribly awkward as you were expecting it to be, trying to find the energy to be kind and cordial despite not wanting to.

“I hope I’m not interrupting,” a deep, smooth voice purred behind you, and you felt the demand of his presence as he stood beside your chair.

His eyes were even more alluring up close, and his crooked smirk was equally charming as it was sexy, the dark scruff around his mouth complimenting his olive complexion.

You swallowed, feeling unable to find words, and with a low chuckle, it prompted him to continue.

“I couldn’t help but want to come over to say hi and introduce myself.” He spoke with such confidence, his voice so seductive. “I’m Cam.”

He held out his hand for you to shake, and you did, feeling your hand tremble slightly before he took it in a firm grip and moved it up and down once on your behalf.

You introduced yourself as well as Nicole and Grace who you wanted to kick under the table for how they were gawking at him, but not as much as you wanted to crawl under it to hide away as he pulled out a chair from the empty table beside yours and took a seat.

“Can I get you ladies another round?”

“Oh, yes please!” the girls chimed, seeming completely enthusiastic about him joining you.

You assessed his hand for any ring as he waved the waitress over, requesting for the same drinks to be brought to the table, feeling relieved there was no band wrapped around his ring finger, but something about him still felt off to you.

He’s not Will, your mind reminded you, and you took a long drink of your wine to try to swallow the sour feeling stirring in your gut.

It was comfortable enough talking to him, even catching yourself laughing at some of the things he said and genuinely having a good time, but every time you felt yourself liking something about him, there was one thing you found you didn’t.

He’s not Will.

You found yourself lost in his chocolate eyes as he spoke to you, imagining instead they were clear blue and held a brightness that reflected the love you had learned to see shine through them, only to be reminded that that wasn’t something that existed for you anymore, and you blinked back to the reality you faced.

“Would it be too forward of me if I asked for your number?” Cam asked, his eyebrows raising on his forehead in a hopeful, but confident expression.

“Hm, yeah, sure,” you replied, picking his phone up from the table that he slid over to you and typed your number into a text message along with your name, sending it to yourself.

“I’ll call you,” he said, standing from his seat where he continued to smile at you.

Your eyes followed him as he walked over to the bar to pay his tab, feeling something stir in you as he looked back over his shoulder at you one last time before he sauntered out of the bar, everything about him charming and gorgeous.

But he wasn’t Will.

“Are you going to go out with him?” Nicole asked excitedly, the looks on both your friend’s faces confusing you like you missed something they hadn’t.

“Umm,” you pondered, trying to wrap your head around the situation, the three glasses of wine making your head feel fuzzy. “I- I don’t know.”

You felt like crying, feeling a sense of guilt and anxiety bubble up in you, like you were betraying Will and being unfaithful despite the reminder that he wasn’t yours slapping you in the face and twisting your heart in your chest.

A few days had passed since your night out with the girls, and as expected, a text from Cam had come through asking to take you for dinner, the invitation sitting ignored and unresponded to in your messages.

Every time you opened your phone to reply, you would see Will’s name a few spots down from Cam’s, the contrast between them and what was past and what was present making you wish more than ever that you could go back in time and try to mend whatever it was that took Will away from you.

You didn't recall ever being so irritable, your temper short and your patience gone, a toss up whether you would scream or cry at the drop of a hat becoming the daily gamble.

The gym didn’t even seem to allay these frustrations, and as you tried to adjust the height of the rack bracket and it got stuck, you felt that blanket of red creeping up through you.

Cursing under your breath, you wiggled the pin again and again, tugging and jostling it to try to get it to move, the clanking of the metal against metal drawing attention over to you by prying, judging eyes.

“Need help?”

You sighed with relief, hearing the familiar voice that belonged to Benny, closing your eyes and counting your breaths as he stepped in and adjusted it for you.

“Thank you,” you muttered, avoiding meeting his eyes as shame washed over you.

“You alright?”

You forced the air out of your lungs again, still not meeting his piercing gaze.

“I'm just so angry and there's nothing I can do about it,” you admitted, your tone defeated.

“I understand that,” Benny drawled, leaning against the squat rack.

You felt him studying you, almost as if he was debating saying something.

“He asks about you every time I talk to him…”

It felt like the wind was knocked right out of you, and somehow you managed to speak.

“He does?”

Your bewilderment seemed to confuse Benny, his face screwed up as he looked at you like it was the most obvious and normal thing.

“Yeah?”

You covered your face with your hands, letting out a growl that did nothing to signify your frustration at the situation.

“I still don’t know what I did wrong. He stopped staying the night and became more and more distant each time I saw him…” You paused briefly, trying to put your thoughts in order. “Then he just stopped altogether and the next time we spoke he ended it, and now you’re saying he asks about me?”

“He didn’t tell you about his nightmare?” Benny asked, his shock blatant.

You shook your head, your brows knitted tightly together. “No?”

Benny sighed and rolled his eyes, shifting on his feet as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Jesus Christ…okay,” he groaned, exasperated by his brother’s ability to consistently make things worse.

You stood there unmoving as Benny explained what had happened, going over all the details Will had told him of his nightmare and his reactions to it, and you felt cold despite having worked up a sweat from what you had done in your routine already.

“I told him he wouldn't actually hurt you but he was so messed up from it. I think it was days before he managed to sleep after that,” Benny said, his tone sad. “I've only seen him that distraught after a nightmare a couple times before.”

“Why wouldn’t he have said anything to me?” you asked, your voice a whisper.

Benny shrugged, “I think he was scared. And then knowing he was leaving on top of it…it was just too much for him.”

You nodded, rubbing your hands on your arms for some sort of comfort, feeling like your heart was breaking all over again, but this time for Will rather than because of him.

“I’m not making excuses for him,” Benny went on, leaning with his arms up on the barbell that hung across the rack. “I don’t agree with what he did, I just know how messy things can get in that head of his, and as his brother I kinda always have to have his back, but it doesn't mean I’m on his side.”

You nodded, at a loss for words as your mind tried to process everything.

It was a helpless feeling, having some sort of understanding now but unable to do anything about it, wondering if you should send Will a message or have Benny pass one along, but all you wanted to tell him was you loved him and that was probably something he didn’t need right now.

“Thanks for telling me,” you said softly, all of your anger replaced with sadness and worry, your heart aching in your chest.

Time continued to pass but did nothing to heal, each day marking another one gone without a word between you and Will, leaving you more unclear than ever at what to do, feeling that if he wanted anything to do with you, he would’ve reached out by now.

Not wanting to put Benny in the middle of it, you never once asked him to interfere or treated him as a messenger, only asking how his brother was doing when he hadn’t told you on his own and thankful that he usually would provide an update anyway knowing you were wondering.

The last time you saw the younger Miller you had dropped off a week’s worth of food, having prepped a variety of high fat and carb meals, helping to get him ready for his upcoming fights in a new weight class.

Cooking for Benny was just the type of distraction you needed, feeling useful and productive and able to put this latent energy into something good for someone else, offering to make his meals for him each week so he didn’t have to worry about his nutrition while focusing on his training.

He had told you as he helped unload all the food from your car that Will was due to return home soon, a matter of days or weeks but there was no exact date yet, and every time you went to the gym or to the grocery store, you braced yourself for a run-in with the man you couldn’t stop thinking about.

You finished washing your face and brushing your teeth, checking your phone one last time before leaving it on your dresser for the night, never getting used to the disappointment you felt at not seeing a sweet message from Will like you used to whenever he wasn’t with you, and still holding hope that whenever it did buzz with a text, it would be Benny saying Will was back.

Your anxiousness was getting the better of you, feeling like it was worsening each day to the point you were struggling to sleep even more than what had now become your normal, never resting for more than a couple of hours at a time if you were lucky.

So many things passed through your mind in those hours spent awake, some of which consisted of that outstanding offer for a date with Cam, not declining it yet despite knowing it was something you didn’t want anything to do with. Nicole and Grace would still bring it up whenever you talked but didn’t put any pressure on you, both of them knowing deep down you were happiest with Will, and you weren’t about to jeopardize any remaining chance with him until you knew for sure that there was an absolute finality to your relationship.

Not feeling tired but knowing you needed to try to sleep, you crawled into bed, nestling yourself under the covers on the side that Will used to occupy, closing your eyes in hopes your mind would drum up the memory of his arms wrapped around you.

You knew you shouldn't do it, knowing it wasn't helping you move on and that some might deem it unhealthy, but every time you laid in bed you imagined him with you and it was becoming the only thing that would get you to sleep.

It had been your haven; the warmth of his body and your limbs tired and wonderfully achy from sex providing all the comfort you needed to drift off, both of you usually able to sleep soundly with the exception of Will having the occasional nightmare until his mind plagued him with the one that he couldn’t get past.

How could it be so wrong to go back to a time when a version of you didn't haunt his dreams, when you had brought each other nothing but love and understanding and a sense of safety and security? You kept replaying what Benny had told you about his nightmare over and over, the sense of guilt you had over it working to torture you just as much as the dream tormented Will.

You sighed, squeezing your eyelids tight, doing everything in your power to recall the feel of his lips on your neck, his breath ghosting over your skin as he wished you goodnight, his beard scratching against you in the most addicting way as he tucked his face as close to yours as he could.

Tears started to spring from your eyes the harder you shut them, thinking how you would give it all up in a heartbeat so Will could be happy and live a life with all of his worries put at ease even if it meant you couldn’t be a part of it.

Will picked at the frayed laces on his boot as he listened to the dial tone, one leg bent to rest on his knee while waiting for Benny to pick up, excited to share the news that he was flying home tomorrow and to get an update on Benny’s training, knowing he had been working hard to put on the last few pounds needed to put him in the Light Heavyweight class.

“Sup, bro?” he finally answered, out of breath.

“Hey, Ben. You running?”

“Just in the middle of some light spars. Got my first fight tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Yeah, buddy!” he hollered, his excitement palpable through the phone.

“That’s awesome, Benny,” Will praised, proud of his brother for reaching his goal.

“How’re you doing?” Benny panted.

“I’m okay,” he paused, planting his foot down so both were on the ground and scratching his head. “Coming in tomorrow.”

“Fuck, seriously?”

“Yeah…”

“Shit. The fight is in Fort Myers, I can’t pick you up, man.”

Will tried his best to disguise his disappointment, his leg bouncing as he tried to level his voice.

“It’s fine, I’ll take a cab or get Redfly to drop me off,” he suggested, knowing he wouldn’t even ask his friend since Tom would be so eager to be reunited with his girls.

Benny sighed, “You sure?”

“Yeah, it’s not a big deal. I’m just sorry I’ll miss that fight.”

“There will be more, don’t worry,” he assured. “Safe flight home, eh?”

“Thanks Benny. Good luck tomorrow. Knock ‘em dead.”

Benny chuckled, “Yeah, I will. See you soon, bro.”

Will ended the call and sat for a minute, the bit of excitement he felt about coming home diminished, feeling a sense of dejection that he officially had no one there for him.

He considered all of his options, the thought of reaching out to you even crossing his mind, but knew that he couldn’t and he would just have to settle for whatever warm welcome the cab driver wouldn’t provide him.

He blew air out of his mouth slowly, starting to feel like he couldn't capture a proper breath, closing his eyes as the sense of self-inflicted and well-deserved dread he was now accustomed to consumed him.

One, two, three…he counted, the numbers switching from the sound of his own voice to yours, repeating them with each breath in and out until he secured a consistent pattern.

Tomorrow.

You knew what it meant without any other context, the single word appearing on your screen from Benny making your heart jump into your throat, and you grabbed the edge of the countertop behind you with shaky hands as you leaned against it.

He had promised to tell you when he knew for sure and here it was, the day you had hoped for for so long, but one you were also terrified for.

Will was coming home.

As a slew of emotions ran through you, it dawned on you that his arrival happened to be on the same day as Benny’s fight, and you wondered if that meant anyone would be there to welcome him home.

You picked up your phone to reply to Benny, thinking of asking him who was planning to pick Will up from base, but as soon as you started typing the message, you hit the arrow to delete it, putting your phone back down on the counter.

It wasn’t your business, you told yourself, fighting every urge to make it yours, the thought of Wil returning home from the hells he faced with no one there for him breaking your heart.

You figured you were the last person he would want to see anyway, and knowing you had the potential to send him even more over the edge made you feel sick, thinking of how much had changed from when you were the one who used to bring him peace.

The flight was long, and it felt like every muscle in Will’s body ached as he walked off the plane and waited to board the bus that would bring them to the base station, feeling so close but still so far from being home.

There was continuous chatter around him, the excitement of all the soldiers about reuniting with their loved ones making Will feel happy and sad at the same time, and he did his best to seem enthused when asked if he was looking forward to going home.

He checked his phone more times than he needed to, having sent Benny a text that he had landed to which he responded with a thumbs up emoji, part of him hoping that there would be something from you, only to remember he didn’t deserve any grace for his actions.

He was getting everything he deserved, he thought as he pressed his head back against the headrest after sitting down, sighing out slowly while closing his eyes, finding it amusing that being alone was something he was both looking forward to and completely dreading.

It wasn’t long before the bus arrived at base, and Will remained in his seat until everyone else had gotten off, not wanting his fellow troops who were so eager to hold their loved ones to be held up by him who was only going to wait for a fucking cab.

He slung his bag over his shoulder and made his way through people hugging, a weak smile forming on his lips in seeing one of his friends holding his newborn baby, and not far off did he watch Tom embrace both of his daughter’s in his arms, picking them up and swinging them around until they were screaming with delight.

After making his way to the doors, he pulled out his phone and looked up the number for a taxi, rubbing his other hand over his tired eyes roughly, praying it wouldn’t take long for one to show up.

The area he stood in was quiet with everyone else still lingering behind, but he glanced up when he noticed a couple walking past hand-in-hand, pausing to steal a kiss.

Will was about to hit the number to dial for Taxi Tampa when he looked up again, his eyes landing on a familiar face and one he couldn’t forget even if he tried.

You had just walked in and were stopped in your tracks as you noticed him at the same time, your face a mix of so many emotions that Will could hardly pick one out.

You gave a small shrug and shook your head, silently explaining that you didn’t really know what you were doing there, and Will all but choked as he tried to take a breath, his shock in seeing you completely overwhelming.

He dropped his bag and let his phone fall on top of it, stepping toward you in purposeful strides, his eyes welling up just the same as yours were.

“I wasn’t sure if I should even come but…I had to show up for you,” you shook out, Will’s hands reaching to cup your face, his thumbs smoothing your cheeks as tears started to fall down them.

He nodded in response, unable to say anything, his own tears breaking their threshold as you grabbed onto his forearms, rubbing them through his shirt as he continued to hold onto you.

He pulled you into a hug, relieved when you embraced him just as hard, feeling himself relax into you, his face nuzzling your head.

“I’m sorry,” he cried, alternating his remorse with ‘thank you’ between pressing kisses onto your forehead and hair, your sobs making your body lurch against his.

Your hands pawed at his back, clawing at his fatigues like you were trying to hold onto him for good, and Will prayed with everything he had that you never would let go.

He wasn’t sure how long you stayed like that for, but he eventually felt himself calm down, relishing in holding you and being in your presence again, knowing he would do everything in his power to make every bit of hurt up to you.

Will inhaled deeply, letting it go slowly out of his mouth, feeling like he could finally breathe properly again after all this time.

It was surreal to be in his arms, his warm embrace something you missed more than you imagined you could have, the feel of his body on yours and his scent surrounding you so familiar.

His heartbeat thrummed in your ear as you continued to rest your face on his chest, hearing his breathing having evened out and realizing yours had done the same.

You reluctantly pulled away to look at him, still keeping your arms locked around his middle. “Should we get you home?”

Will’s mouth turned up on one side, his crooked smirk making you melt.

“Yeah,” he nodded, his hand falling to land on your lower back as you both turned to where his bag was left on the floor.

You expected a moment like this to feel awkward, but it was anything but, like you were learning each other all over again, standing in Will’s room with your arms around each other’s waist, your faces so close and your lips inches from touching.

Finally, Will leaned into you, softly pressing his lips on yours, making you hold your breath as you let your eyes close and kissed him back, a broken moan transferring into his mouth as you forced yourself to try to take in air again.

His hand ran across your back, pulling you close to him as he took a step into you, your shirt slipping up so his palm splayed out on your skin, that sensation alone making you shiver in addition to how good it felt to have his lips on yours again.

Kisses grew more intense as each second ticked by, only pausing when he lifted your shirt over your head, and despite feeling so desperate, you both continued to keep every touch slow and careful.

His fingers pinched the clasp of your bra together to release it, moving the straps down your shoulders until it fell from your body, returning his hands to your arms where he trailed his fingertips up them to your neck and then down to your bare chest.

You found the buttons on his shirt, blindly unfastening each one until you were able to peel it open, feeling his smooth chest and the defined muscles of his torso, his warmth radiating out onto you.

Will reached up to take hold of your face, angling your head to press his tongue deeper in your mouth, stealing every bit of air from you in the process.

Breathe, your mind begged, but kissing him was better than breathing.

The rough material of his fatigues brushed against your nipples, making your breath hitch in your throat even more, your body moving to rub against him again to replicate the feeling.

You were rid of your pants and underwear next, leaving you naked while Will remained in his uniform, but the intoxicating feel of your skin on his bare chest let him know that he needed to have as much skin-on-skin contact as possible, and he tore the garment off his upper body quickly before moving to his pants.

Once you were bared to each other, you returned to your slow caresses, touching and exploring with light fingers and hands, your pleasure brought on purely by love.

You stopped kissing him for a moment, teasing your lips on his until you managed to whisper, your voice thick with lust.

“I need you, Will. I need you inside me.”

His nose nudged your cheek as he agreed with the nod of his head, his hands clasping your face again like he feared if he went too long without kissing you, you would vanish.

He took your hand and led you to the bed, sitting down on it and shifted back slightly where you followed, straddling his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck, looking into his vibrantly blue eyes as he gazed at you lovingly.

His hands slid all along your back, bringing you closer to his body before they landed on your legs, guiding you to put them straight so they were behind him and you were seated flush against his lap.

You breathed out slowly as your forehead rested against his, feeling his cock settle at your folds, and when you moved your hips ever so slightly, you gasped at the sensation.

Will kissed along your jawline, his hands massaging your hips, ready to assist as you lifted yourself enough to reach between your bodies and take hold of his cock, guiding him to your entrance where you slowly sank onto his length.

Short, shuddered breaths were exchanged between you before you found each other’s lips again, and you gradually began to move together, finding a tempo that sang to you and helped display the love that had been missing.

Will held onto every part of you that he could, grasping at you as you rocked and rode him, his hips jutting up into yours in slow, meticulous thrusts to give you everything you needed, feeling your desperation grow while his did too.

Your clit rubbed against the coarse hairs above his cock, grinding until you were at the edge, the way your wet walls clenched around and encased him driving him to the brink what felt like faster than ever.

Even though you were both quick to arrive at your climaxes, nothing about it was rushed, savouring each movement to get there and not taking a single second for granted, every emotion felt transferred through your bodies.

Will kissed you hard, groaning into your mouth as he came undone, coating your walls and filling you completely with his hot cum that started to leak out of you as you continued to move on his shaft, your orgasm lagging just seconds behind.

Your fingers clawed at the back of his neck, scratching and digging into his flesh as your body took every bit of pleasure from him, the seal of your mouths breaking as you both panted for air, his head falling into the hollow of your neck while yours rested on the side of his, his hair soft on your cheek.

His mouth smeared wet across your collarbone as he moved his face, pressing sloppy, lazy kisses onto your skin as he continued to hold you close, feeling his chest and back expand and contract with each heavy breath while you kept your arms secured around him.

Will brought you with him as he laid down on his sheets, your bodies still connected, his fingertips tracing your hairline before he leaned toward you and kissed your lips again.

After a few more minutes of kissing, you tucked your face into his neck, your legs entwining with his, Will rolling over onto his back where he held your hand and brought it to rest on his chest.

A silent agreement seemed to settle between you to leave the talking until tomorrow, right now needing to simply be with each other, and like nothing had ever gone wrong, Will closed his eyes and fell asleep, his mind and body finding a peace he didn’t think he would ever have again.

---

Part 8

Taglist:

@sotwk @dailydragon08 @sunnys-day @thedreadandthefugitivemind @glassgulls

@littlenosoul @glitterypirateduck @momia2910 @maggotzombie @rmwarn90

@paintlavillered @casa-boiardi @stealfromthedevil @kmc1989 @justreblogginfics

@spaghettificationandpretzels @whatever-lmaoo @steviebbboi @charethcutestory02

@christinhunnam @hp-hogwartsexpress

[kykyonthemoon]

rafayel and xavier with a reader that gets so stressed out she breaks down sobbing? 🥹

(and zayne if you want)

Soothing

Thank you for requesting!

🌻 Character x F!Reader

Masterlist

Part 2 - Comforting (for Sylus & Caleb)

𝑹𝒂𝒇𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒍

When you entered the studio, Rafayel was resting on the sofa with his eyes closed.

“You're back already? How was the meeting with your old friends?"

He got to his feet just in time to witness the pearl-like tears that were cascading from your eyes. You quickly wiped it away, but Rafayel immediately came to your side and held your wrist.

"What's wrong? Did someone bully you?”

You hiccuped loudly. Rafayel wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you into his arms. "Tell me. Who dares to make my bodyguard cry?

You leaned against Rafayel, a cheek pressed against his chest. His heart rate shot through the roof, then steadily stabilized. The sound of his heart pounding was what you loved listening to, as it soothed you.

Waiting for your sobbing to pass, then you added:

“Sometimes being around other people is so tiring.”

Rafayel took a small step back. His hands circled your neck and raised your chin just enough to make you meet his gaze.

“Are… Are you sick of me? You're about to leave me again, is that true?"

You had to giggle at the pathetic and sulky look on his face. Rafayel was drawn closer by your arms encircling his hips, and you said:

"No. I'm talking about my group of friends. As for you, Rafayel, you are not even human.”

“That's right.” Rafayel exclaimed as his face brightened. “Then you don't have to be sad. If you no longer have friends on land, you still have fish in the aquarium, and in the sea. Fishies are waaaayyyy better than humans. Especially a particular fish that knows how to draw, sing and make you laugh.”

This time you laughed out loud, cracking in the room filled with Rafayel's artwork. He was right; you always had him and the ocean for company. You did not have to try to please everyone, but just the people who were most important to you.

“Thank you, Rafayel.” With a little tiptoe, you kissed his cheek, causing his face to flush.

𝑿𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒆𝒓

As soon as you left the practice area, you caught a glimpse of Xavier waiting outside. You did your best to conceal the tears that were ready to fall, but they were still visible to him.

“What's the matter?”

"Nothing." With a forced smile, you replied. Of course, Xavier did not believe that.

“Are your test results not good?”

He had got you, so you just stared down at the ground. You were trying my best to stay calm, but all you wanted to do was cry out loud in his arms.

Seeming to know that, Xavier pulled you close. His hand gently stroked your hair, pausing now and again to pat your shoulder as a gesture of comfort.

“I… I've been practicing for months… And yet… I still couldn't pass that test…”

"It's not that bad. There haven't been many Hunters who had successfully completed that test. No need to be so harsh with yourself. You did very well, and you are always the best Hunter.”

Feeling Xavier's arms tighten, you sobbed again. It wasn't enough to simply aspire to the top; you also wanted to succeed in every test and every challenge. Given Xavier's level of expertise as a Hunter, you wanted to show that you were strong enough to accompany him and shield him without letting him worry about you everywhere, all the time.

Xavier waited for you to finish crying before gently suggesting:

“You know, getting plushies from claw machines is also a way to practice skills.”

“You just said that to cheer me up.”

However, when you thought about the cute plushies waiting to be taken home, you suddenly felt calmer. Why not, when the most adorable plushie in the world was standing in front of you, eyes wide open as if he was pleading with you to accompany him to the arcade?

“Are you sure you want to miss the special edition plushies this week?”

Xavier asked. You replied with a shake of your head.

"Of course you won't. Let's go then. The greatest Hunter in Linkon cannot be outplayed by any claw machine."

With a smile on your face, you held his hand. You might have failed this test, but you already won Xavier's heart.

𝒁𝒂𝒚𝒏𝒆

You did not say anything to Zayne the whole way home. Yet Zayne remained silent, concentrating on driving without even asking you a single question, even though he knew just by looking at your face, you had had a very bad day.

The intense work made you exhausted. You had been under constant stress for around two weeks straight. The number of Wanderers appearing more and more seriously caused you to take on extra shifts, but that was nothing compared to the paperwork you had to report, or the secret meetings that lasted for hours.

Somewhere in your crazy schedule, you still hoped to receive a call, a text message from Zayne. But when you saw nothing on the phone screen, your heart sank even though you knew Zayne's work was very busy these days.

In any case, you were grateful that he took you home and agreed to cook dinner for you today. You decided not to let your stress bother him. But as soon as he put the bag of food on the kitchen counter, Zayne pulled you back and gave you a strong embrace from behind.

“Z-Zayne?” You were startled and couldn't move because he held you so tightly.

“Now, can you tell me what’s on your mind?”

His whispering voice and his warm breath made one of your ears turn red. You were confused:

“You noticed?...”

There was a sigh coming from behind you. Zayne let go of you, then turned you around to face him.

“I didn't ask, because I expected you to tell me everything only when you wanted first.”

The number of patients visiting Akso Hospital has also increased dramatically in recent days. Regular overtime work was required of Zayne. Yet he still maintained a calm attitude in all situations. Every day and every hour, he always tried to be better, to save more people. You should do the same and become stronger.

You sat up straight to look into his eyes. A smile flashed across Zayne's lips. He lifted your chin and wiped your face with a tissue.

"Do not be sad. A smile is much better on your face."

[joeybsversion]

Contract

Joe Burrow x Reader

Joe and reader sign a dating contract

“Should I even ask how you got in here?” You sigh, crossing your arms across your chest.

“Did you read this yet?” Joe hands a stack of papers to you.

“I saw it in my dressing room.”

“You didn’t answer my question.” He forces the papers towards you again.

“What is this?” You look up at him.

“Our dating contract.”

“Why is it pink?”

He rolls his eyes, “Someone left it in the copy machine and I didn’t know how to change it.”

Your contagious laughter fills the room. “Remind me why we’re doing this again?” You take the paper from his hands.

“Publicity.” He says, almost as if he’s asking a question. “Both of our managers agreed. It’ll be a good story line for the NFL, especially as I head into the play offs.”

“And I’ll benefit how?” You ask, flipping through the pages.

“Don’t you have a movie coming out or something?” He furrows his brows.

“No I live on this set full time.” You roll your eyes at his stupidity.

“They said it’ll bring more attention to you and the movie I guess.” He nervously paces across the room. “Can you just sign it so I can get out of here?”

“I’ll think about it.” You say with a smirk.

A few hours later your cuddled up on the couch with a glass of wine after a long day on set. The constant buzz from your phone pulls your attention ration away from the TV screen in front of you.

“What do you need?” Your voice is rough as you answer the phone.

“Did you check your schedule? We have another fake date planned for tonight.”

“A fake date.” Your lips curl at the idea.

“Correct. Party to celebrate making it to the play offs.” The line is quiet for a minute. “I’ll be there in 20 minutes to get you.”

“See you soon, babe.” You tease. If you’re going to be a fake couple, you better act like it.

“Wow.” Joe says as you climb into his car.

For the first time, you don’t sense a tone of disgust in his voice. “Not so bad yourself.” You pull your seatbelt across your lap and admire Joes outfit.

After a silent card ride to the private downtown party, you climb out of the car, cameras flashing and paparazzi yelling in your direction. Joe comes around to your side of the car and wraps an arm around your waste to pull you close. You feel your heart skip a beat and butterflies fill your stomach with a warm sensation. Joe leads you into the restaurant and towards his group of friends.

“You can let go now.” You try to pull away from his grip.

“We have to act like a couple.” He reminds you and pulls you back to him.

“Right.” You flash a fake smile.

Joe makes his rounds, introducing you to the rest of the team. For the first time, you felt like a normal person. People weren’t asking for pictures, or hounding you with questions about your next big role and security wasn’t needed. For the first time in a long time, you forgot you were a celebrity.

Drinks were flowing, the music was loud, and sweaty bodies continued to crash into each other. Taking advantage of the fact that you felt like an average person, you continued to let people bring you drinks.

You could feel Joe’s eyes on you all night. Everyone once in a while he’d come over and check in on you, his hands would find your hips and his eyes would lock on your. “Doing ok?” He brushed his sweaty hair off of his forehead, the curls falling back into place perfectly.

“Yeah. I hate to admit it but I’m having fun. I think I could get use to this.” You press your drink to your lips. “I feel free here.”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.” He smiled.

Joe really was a good guy. While you weren’t fond of the whole contract situation, you were glad it was him. It could be so much worse.

“Burrow!!” One of Joes teammates calls from across the bar before the handsome quarterback disappears back into the crowd.

You find yourself at the bar again, ordering another drink and slowly swaying to the music before you feel a hand pressed to the small of your back. You turn to meet a handsome, tall man.

“Hi.” You smile, the same butterflies you felt with Joe explode in your stomach again.

“Hey. I’m Sam. One of Burrows teammates.” He places his large hand out and shakes yours.

“Nice to meet you, Sam.” You smile, leaving your hand locked in his.

“So, how’d Joe get so lucky?”

You blush, looking down nervously. “You’re not so bad yourself.” You smile back at Sam.

Sam, much like Joe and the rest of the team, was very easy to talk to. You felt yourself getting lost in his eyes and laughing at all of his jokes.

Across the room, you can feel Joe staring at you. His eyes burning a hole in the back of Sam’s head. His jaw tightened when another silvery pearl of laughter over from the bar. You had been talking to Sam for the past several minutes. Not just talking, you were laughing and giggling like he was a comedian when Joe knew for a fact he wasn’t that damn funny. Irritation raged through his body as Sam leaned closer to you, causing you to laugh again. You’d never laughed that much with him. And he was your fake boyfriend.

Joe tried to pull your attention away from Sam multiple times. Now that you were finally able to relax and feel ‘free’ as you had told him before, you were flirting with Sam Hubbard.

Joe stormed over to you and Sam and practically ran Sam over. Up until this point, Sam had been one of his best friends but now he wanted to rip his hands off for touching you like that. Like you could possibly belong to Sam when you so clearly were dating Joe. Or fake dating that is, Joe thought to himself.

Sam’s eyebrows shot up as Joe stepped in front of him. “Excuse me.” Joe rudely interrupted, “I need a second with her.” He took you by the hand and led you to a quiet corner.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Joe stammered.

“I’m having fun.” You smiled back in Sam’s direction, his eyes were still locked on you. “I’m leaving with a guy at the end of the night.”

“Have you lost your mind?” His eyes go wide. “Do you remember what we’re doing here? You can’t leave with him!”

“You can’t stop me.”

Joe smiles suspiciously, “You’re right, you are leaving with a guy tonight. Me.”

You laughed. “No I’m not!” You slurred.

Joe leaned in close enough that you could taste the alcohol on his breath. “You have two options.” He whispered. “You can walk out of hand in hand with me, like an adult.” His leaned in closer if that was even possible, you could feel his lips as they whispered against yours. “Or I can carry you out of here over my shoulder. What will it be babe?” Your eyes meet his as he finally closes the gap between both of you.

Complying with his order, you take Joe by the hand, say your goodbyes, and leave the party. Outside you’re met by another crowd of rowdy photographers and fans.

“Stay close.” Joe leads you through the crowd.

As both of you had been drinking and were unable to drive, Joe ordered a car to pick you up. You climbed in quickly behind him, climbing into his lap and clinging to him as if he was your only sense of security.

“I know this is supposed to be fake, but I’ve been having a lot of fun with you. And it makes me so jealous to see having fun with other guys.” Joe slurs, his grip tightening around you. “I’ll give you anything you want if you give me the chance to make you happy. No more of this fake dating shit. I want you to be my girlfriend. I want to give it a shot with you. Take it or leave it because I’m not open to negotiations. You’re mine.” Joe crashes your lips together again.

“Only you could make asking me to be your girlfriend sound like a business deal.” You giggle.

“Please be my girlfriend.” He whispers, pressing his forehead to yours.

“I am.”

“My real girlfriend. No more contract. No more fake dates. No expectation.” He kisses you again. “Be mine.”

[sinnabarmoth]

Welcome Home

Pairing: Zayne x Fem|Reader

Prompt: Mini fic of Reader being a soft!dom with the lads. (Not necessarily sexual, just sweet 'let me take care of you' vibes.)

Word count: 1k

Links to the other lads: (Rafayel) (Xavier) (Sylus)

You heard the front door open and smiled. “Welcome home, how was work my darling?” you called to Zayne from the kitchen.

“I’m…alive.” he sighed.

“Oh dear,” you put the soup on low heat to keep it warm and went out to see him. Zayne was slumped against the front door toeing off his shoes. There were deep lines etched into his forehead, bags under his eyes, and his hair was askew from running his hands through it. “What happened? Something go wrong at work?”

“No. Nothing wrong but the amount of work being put on my plate.” he let you help him out of his overcoat. “I probably would have stayed later to get some more things done but I knew if I did that you’d come over and drag me out by the nape of my neck.”

“Damn right I would have. I haven’t spent the last couple years instilling a sense of work/life balance in you for you to backslide now.” you pulled him in for a hug. “You work so hard, you need to remember to take breaks when you need them. You’re not some machine.”

“I know,” he sighed, pressing his forehead to yours. “Which is why I came home. I know you’d force me to relax no matter what.”

“You know me so well. Now go on, get out of your work clothes and come join me for dinner. I made a very nutritious vegetable soup--”

“And you made sure to--”

“With no carrots. I know.” you rolled your eyes. “And I also bought taro ice cream for dessert.”

His eyes lit up at the mention of ice cream. “Is it possible we can have dessert first?”

“You know I’d do anything for you, Zaynie. But I spent an hour making this soup, you’re getting a bowl full of that first.” you gave his butt a little pat as you ushered him toward the bedroom.

You ladled soup into the waiting bowls on the table and sat down as Zayne reemerged looking much more comfortable. You let him complain about his day and vent his frustrations with the changes they were doing around the hospital that he didn’t think were actually necessary. Your feet bumped against his under the table, reminding him that he was home and didn’t need to worry about work any more tonight.

Slowly he started to relax and the life came back into his eyes as he ate the soup. There was your husband. You leaned across the table and took his free hand, stroking it lightly with your thumb. He looked up at you through the fringe of his hair.

“Something wrong?”

“No. I was just thinking about how all day all you do is take care of everyone else. People put you in charge of their health, the health of their friends and family, their very lives really. It’s a lot of pressure. It makes me worry sometimes that you forget to take care of yourself, let someone dote on you for a change.” you squeezed his hand. “I want to be that person for you.”

“You are that person every day.” a gentle smile grew on his face. “Every time I come home and see your smiling face I forget all my other worries. I know that you will always be there to take my coat and lift my spirits and tell me to just lay back and take it easy for the night. You have no idea how much I appreciate that, how much I appreciate you.”

“Aw Zayne!” you got up and kissed his cheek. “You really are the sweetest, my darling.”

“I’m just telling the truth. I can hardly remember a time before I had you in my life. I must have been a machine to have coped with it all.”

“You were never a machine. You just didn’t have someone to remind you to look after yourself. Sometimes people need someone to come in and remind them that they are a person too. After that, they learn to do it for themselves. Do you think the Zayne from a couple years ago would have left work on time when he knew he could get more stuff done if he stayed?”

He shook his head. “No. I would have been there till midnight, probably would have slept there too.”

“Exactly. Now look at you, you come home to me without me having to so much as send a text. I helped pull you out but you’ve been doing marvelously at keeping yourself afloat. I don’t want you to ever forget that.”

“My flower…” he gazed up at you with absolute love and adoration.

“And it looks like you finished your soup so if you still want it we can have ice cream now.” you said brightly.

“Yes, please.”

“So polite.” you ruffled his hair and grabbed the ice cream out of the freezer. You were going to scoop it out but decided to just grab two spoons and stuck them in the carton. “Since you worked so hard today and you’re being extra sweet I think we can have a straight from the carton kinda night. Have as much as you want.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.” you sat yourself on the edge of the table and scooped up some ice cream with your spoon. “Want me to feed you as well?”

His face started turning red. “No--I mean, not unless you really want to.”

You chuckled and held the spoon out for him. He licked the ice cream off and once he had you bent closer and pecked his lips, chasing the lingering sweetness on them. You noticed when you started to pull away he leaned in closer, chasing your lips.

You smiled, cupping his face. “Is my doctor perhaps craving something a little sweeter than ice cream?”

He gulped, staring up at you through half lidded eyes. “I mean I wouldn’t mind…” he trailed off.

“Come now, my darling. You know better than to not finish your sentence.” you said in a quiet, coaxing voice. “What is it you want?”

“I’d like to go back to the bedroom, my flower.” he said, his spine straightening.

“Much better.” you pulled him out of his chair and quickly tossed the ice cream back in the freezer. “We can finish that later. Right now I think what my hard working husband needs is a thorough massage.”

[the-cauldron-witch]

Protecting his peace

Prompt I came up with: Raph protects everyone else's peace, but who protects his when it comes down to it?

Set in the bayverse TMNT

This past week had to have been the worst Raph has had since Shredder tried to take the city or Krang taking the world. It was just one thing after another, it felt like there was no rest or reprieve from each event. The botched surveillance mission was the beginning of this shitstorm, April had caught wind of some rogue scientists that had managed to find some left-over technology from the Krang’s invasion attempt. What exactly it did and what exactly they wanted to do weren’t clear, so they set out to the supposedly abandoned warehouse for more information.

Emphasis on the word ‘abandoned’ as in, abandoned for so damn long that when Raph went into the rafters one of the beams had rusted too much to hold his weight. He came crashing down into the enemies, blowing their cover entirely and sending most of them scattering, ultimately ruining the mission. Some scientists made off with equipment in the fray. No amount of apologizing or explaining convinced any of his brothers this wasn’t done out of impatience or defiance, despite how hard Raph tried to convince them. Leo even benched him when they went to find out where their next hide-out would be. That really pissed Raph off.

Being in the lair and being forced to stay there were two different things. If he was willingly in the lair it was home, but when he wasn’t allowed to leave it felt like a prison. Turning to his punching bag was one of two outlets for his anger, which he felt the need to use immediately once his brothers finally leave. Just before the three left to follow another lead, Donnie decided to test out an upgrade for the grappling hook. It would make scaling vertical buildings with flat surfaces much quicker.

The force? Perfect. Velocity and precision? Flawless. Donatello’s aim and self awareness? Lacking, as the grappling claw was launched directly through Raph’s punching bag, sand spilling out in a small pile on the floor.

“Oops...” Donnie squeaked.

This mistake ultimately sent Donnie back a few weeks of work as Raph broke the cable entirely from the gun. It was going to be difficult to find another cable the same length and strength. 

Turning his anger to the gym was his second best option, Raph tripling his workout routine and doubling the weight on each machine. The burn and sweat on his muscles helped seal the rage at how completely unfair his situation was, focusing on the work out rather than deal with it.

His sanctuary was unfortunately going to be short-lived thanks to his youngest brother. When Raph put his weights down and headed to the kitchen, wanting to grab a quick power snack before moving onto his next workout, Mikey set to work. Sneaking into the room whilst his brother was busy Mikey set to work on yet another one of his pranks. He had found a recipe on Donnie’s computer for a paint-bomb, one that was actually pretty powerful and took a minute to detonate. This was going to be his best one yet, having made it a bit bigger than the previous ones.

Returning to his spot in the common living space, pretending he was listening to his music the whole time and didn’t notice Raph returning to the weight room, Mikey eagerly waited for his plan to unfold. Biting into the quick sandwich he threw together, Raph stood in the middle of the room for a moment debating on what equipment he wanted to use next. Before he could make a decision or even take a second bite there was a resounding BOOM! Sending bright neon pink paint everywhere, covering far more than the previous bombs.

The previous ones had about a two or three foot blast radius, just enough to make a mess and startle the target while still being manageable for clean up. Not this one. From the ceiling, to the standing mirrors, to every barbell and piece of workout equipment inside the room- himself included, were covered in a fairly thick layer of paint. Spitting the sudden foulness out of his mouth Raph scraped the paint off of his face, his sandwich completely obliterated out of his hand in the blast. Hawking onto the floor, Raph took a long stunned moment to collect himself and register what was happening.

“Oh, shit...” Mikey muttered from the entrance of the gym, wide eyed and a bit taken aback himself. He had not intended for the blast to be THAT big and messy, just enough to startle Raph, maybe a little paint on his dumbbells and a little bit on himself. Right now, it was so pink it looked like it was Barbie’s personal gym. Letting out a guttural snarl Raph was across the room before Mikey had time to get a safe distance away, unable to stop his older brother from blackening his left eye.

Today, two days later from the paint bomb, Raph had absolutely had enough. He screwed up a mission by accident and no one wanted to believe him, now both of his best outlets are completely in disarray. The mostly empty sandbag hung like a chicken on a hook, swaying back and forth gently. Neon pink dried paint still clung to every surface in his workout room, which he demanded be cleaned the previous night. That started off the day's argument.

“This is fucking bullshit!!” Raphael roared, kicking the coffee table over as he stormed out of the common living area.

“Jesus Christ, Raph. Will you calm down?” Leo growled in annoyance, having had enough of his awful mood.

“Your attitude is getting out of hand, Raphael-” Master Splinter chastised, entering the living area with a tap of his cane. He wasn’t pleased with what little good furniture they had being abused.

“Are you shitting me, how the fuck am I the one in trouble?!” Raph exploded in disbelief.

“Do not use such language with me-”

“FUCK THIS!”

Walking tenderly into the lair you listened with caution as voices grew louder and angrier, your boyfriend's voice loudest of all. You had already known about the events of this week through many curse filled texts and phone calls. Talking him down from his heated state took some gentle words and reassurance of returning to the city after visiting family soon. You cut the trip a day short and returned early, you didn’t even bother going home to drop off your things and simply parked it in the usual safe spot you used.

Fury had completely blinded Raph as he stormed off, shoving Leo roughly out of his way as he headed for his room without noticing you entered. The silence was heavy once Raph’s door slammed shut, an uncomfortable aura hanging in the air as you were slowly noticed. No one really said anything to break the tension, so you decided to.

“I’m going to go talk to him,”

“Good luck,” Mikey scoffed from his seat on the couch, his left eye half lidded and swollen. Ignoring the snide comment you continued down the hall to the sound of what could be described as a bull kicking up a tornado. A loud smash and clatter of broken wood could be heard from the other side of the door followed by a few more snarled curses from the infuriated mutant turtle within. Taking a second to let one or two more items be hurled across the room before you reached out and knocked firmly.

Footsteps vibrating from behind the firmly locked door shook beneath you, but didn’t intimidate you in the slightest. The second the door is ripped open and nearly off the wall Raph opened his mouth to roar demandingly just who the hell had the audacity to try and talk to him right now, only for his gaze to fall on you. Immediately his demeanor changed, his shoulders relaxed and face softened from being so tense just seconds ago. You didn’t need to ask permission to come in as Raph side-stepped out of the way and closed the door gently behind you as you entered.

The debris scattered about his room was hard to identify, you were pretty sure the wood was his nightstand and some of the plastic was a game controller, the rest you couldn’t identify. Silent and sulking Raph trudged over to his bed and sat at the edge, his elbows digging into his thighs heavily and gaze secured to the floor. Had he known you had made your way into the lair, he wouldn’t have gotten so loud and angry, that wasn’t a side of him he wanted you seeing and you knew it.

Stepping around the debris you made your way to his bed quietly, normally you would have slipped off your shoes and left them at the entrance but the many broken pieces scattered around the floor made that difficult. The only sound you could hear was the low, deep growl under his breath and the unmistakable grind of his molars as he chewed on his emotions so he could swallow them back down.

He didn’t lift his head as you came to stand directly in front of him, his gaze now at your feet. Palms gently taking either side of his face, you gently lifted his gaze to meet yours, his face was scrunched with clear frustration.

“Talk to me, baby” Leaning over you pressed a kiss to his forehead, letting him know it was safe to let it out. He was still just a moment before taking a deep breath and letting out a long, slow sigh. Wrapping his massive arms around your midsection he pulled your form to his, calloused hands pressing you flush to him as he rested his head on your shoulder and buried his face into your neck.

“I...They...mmph” Tripping over his words Raph sucked in a breath, using your scent to center himself and his thoughts. “It’s like...it’s like I’m not allowed to make a mistake, like as soon as I do somethin’ wrong more shit goes wrong just to beat me further...like I’m not allowed to be angry about how unfair this shit is!”

He huffed frustratedly, pulling you directly into his lap as he began scooting backwards until his shell met the wall with a small thud. The rage in his voice was dwindling, but did not extinguish, not that you could honestly blame him. In your opinion he had every right to be angry, especially since he was genuinely innocent this time. You might not have been there, but by the genuine hurt of not being believed in his eyes made you believe him entirely.

“You’re allowed to feel mad about this, it is completely unfair” You sympathized with him, one palm still cupping his cheek with your thumb gently stroking the softer part of his skin. “Honestly I’m upset for you, you shouldn’t be ganged up on over just one mistake. Everyone makes mistakes, you don’t deserve to be ganged up on for it”

The way his eyes soften at your words made your own anger rise. Raph’s temper may burn the brightest, but that shouldn’t overshadow his own emotions. Swallowing thickly he didn’t respond at first, allowing the rest of his emotions to finally settle. Hurt, disappointment, invalidation, each emotion bubbled and slowly revealed itself as you quelled the rage.

“Like they didn’t screw up too,” He grumbled angrily, “My punching bag basically got disemboweled and my work out room is still covered in paint ‘cause a Donnie and Mikey, but I’m the one getting yelled at for being mad about it!”

“Is that what all that yelling was about?” You questioned gingerly, raising an eyebrow to him.

“I was telling Mikey his ass needed to go and clean my fuckin’ workout room! He had the audacity to tell me to wait ‘cause he was playing some game like it ain’t been two days,” Throwing his free hand in the air in exasperation Raph let it drop onto your thigh, his fingers firmly digging into your flesh and pulling you closer somehow. “I told him if he didn’t clean it ASAP I was gonna crack his shell, then Master Splinter starts in on me and gettin’ mad cause I’m pissed off”

It was strange voicing the emotions slowly simmering in his chest instead of lashing out and covering them up or working them out with weights, all of his focus on scorching them into nonexistence. With your coaxing and genuine care, Raph slowly started talking them through and understanding them more, which unfortunately made him feel them more.

“I’m sorry baby. Did he even say a word to Mikey or Donnie?” Squirming in his lap to get comfortable you slipped your pinned arm under his, pressing your cheek into his collar where his plastron met skin. Tears stung and pricked the edges of his eyes, threatening to spill over and be absorbed by his mask. He didn’t want to cry, that felt like admitting defeat, but he couldn’t stop the overwhelming amount of emotions he was feeling now that you opened the floodgates. It was all overwhelming for him now.

“Tch, hell if I know, probably not. Like he or any’a them care, he didn’t even believe me either when I told him about Leo’s bullshit-”

“Are you seriously still on about that?” A scoffing demand from the eldest intruder as the door somehow opened unnoticed. Fire returning to his core Raph audibly gnashed his teeth together, outrage immediately returning to his very being.

“Oh wow, he’s actually crying too” Mikey commented as his own head poked in.

“Get the FUCK out!”

The loud and demanding bark shockingly did not come from Raphael, but yourself. It even came as a shock to you, but seeing the two offending brothers flinch back granted you some unforeseen vigor in you. Releasing you from his grip Raph watched with astonishment as you crawled from his embrace, unsure of how to react to you exploding on his brothers. You had known all of them for some time now, where friends before starting a relationship with Raphael, never had you taken such a tone with any of them.

“You are being completely and totally unreasonable! How are you going to keep dogging on Raph after a mistake like you’re something perfect, huh?” Your heels stomped on the floor with each step you took towards the door, eyes locked with the eldest. There was no response from Leo even as his mouth opened to speak. He didn’t know what or how to respond. With no retort coming, you decided to continue this tangent on behalf of your boyfriend. If they weren’t going to listen to him, they damn well were going to listen to you now.

“And then you come in here and make fun of him for being upset over all this?” You turned yourself to Mikey, who had taken a few paces back when you began shouting. “Especially when his weight room looks like that! It’s like it came out of a damn pepto bismol commercial”

His eye ached when Mikey winced at your comment, the guilt finally digging its claws in. In all honesty the paint bomb wasn’t meant to be that messy, but Mikey had apologized for it...right? Now he was second guessing himself as he felt his eye throbbing.

“Not to MENTION what happened to his punching bag!” You decided to add quickly, not wanting to lose momentum on this running train.

“Sorry...” Came Donnie’s small voice from in front of his desktop, the sincerity in his voice tugging at your chest a little. Given the state of the hollow bag hanging in its spot still, you didn’t feel too bad for calling him out.

“A little late, Donnie!” You huffed in indignation, “You all ganged up on him when he did something wrong and expected him to fix his mistake somehow, but you all made a mistake and you won’t even apologize for it!”

There was an unmistakable static in the air now as you waited for someone to speak up. Swallowing thickly Leo continued to hold your intense glare with his own, normally he would have spat something back with what Mikey would call his ‘leader voice’ in regards to questioning his leadership- but he wasn’t your leader. You were a long time and close friend, so maybe your words worked a little differently.

“Look, maybe we did make mistakes, but we’re not the ones disturbing the peace and lashing out at everyone!” Leo couldn’t think of any other counter argument at this moment. Was there any other argument, though? He wasn’t wrong, Raph had lashed out, but you still couldn’t blame him.

“Well, you know what? I’m protecting his peace now, because he feels none of you give a shit” Your voice was curt and harsh but not as raised as it was. Taking a step back you grabbed the side of the door, “He’ll talk to you all when he’s ready!”

Swinging the door shut firmly you didn’t give anyone a chance to speak further, the slam of the door effectively sending the lair into silence again. Raphael’s eyes never left your frame, stunned silent at your words. Protecting his peace. It was a strange feeling, he was normally the one protecting himself and those around- he saved the city twice in his lifetime alone. Not since he was a child did he feel like he needed protection, yet somehow here you were doing just that for him.

Beside the door taped to the wall was a Vin Diesel movie poster of one of his many films, pinching the untapped corner of the paper you gently pulled it up to reveal the keypad underneath. Keying in the specific code, which was really just Raphael’s given birthdate, there was a hiss and shudder from within the walls as you activated the security system. The door was now locked tight, the only person that could even hope to enter now was Donnie- if he steeled his nerves enough to make the attempt to enter the dragon's den now. After everything that you had said, you had no intention of letting his family back in his room.

There was a power in your step as you strode back over to the bed, heels crushing whatever litter was scattered across the floor instead of carefully stepping around the mess as you had earlier. A small stone formed by guilt sat uncomfortably in the pit of your stomach, you’d never even had a serious argument with them let alone all the things you had just said. But you meant it, you were protecting his peace when he felt no one else cared about it.

The way he opened his arms to you, beaconing you to come back to him, made your heart hurt some. With the anger washed away finally left behind only hurt in his green eyes that begged you for more comfort silently. Crawling across the messy bed spread you climbed back into his lap, burying yourself under his chin as he dipped his head and held you close to him.

“Thank you...” Was all he murmured, a tear unintentionally spilling from pure frustration. Kissing his cheek you held him the best you could, given the size difference it was the best you could do.

His peace deserved protecting just as much as anyone.

[andhumanslovedstories]

I'll play the 500-word ask game! Your Tortall fanfic, please - I was thinking of this segment, but really anything you want to comment on in the fic! (Also thank you for writing it; the voice works very well and the text feels very true-to-source!)

Kel may never have forgiven the king for putting her through a probation period—a life’s first major disappointment cuts deep and leaves a scar—but her issues to him as a man did not blind her to his success as a king. “He’s formed alliances with the Bazhir, the Yamani, and Tusaine for the first time in our history. He controls the Dominion Jewel, the most powerful mage in the world is loyal to him, and our training school produces the finest knights in the world.”

Don’t forget our excellent spy operations,” Alanna added. “But people’s memories get short, especially in times of hardship. A short war unites a nation; a long one wearies it. And our war with Scanra has lasted far longer than we expected, even after your contribution.”

Kel grimaced. It was true. Even after Kel had slain the creator of the Scanran war machines, the forces of King Maggur fought bitterly for every inch of land. They had no reasonable hope of winning, not with Scanra’s weak harvest and weaker tribal alliances, but they were determined to make Tortall’s victory costly. They’d turned to guerilla tactics in the mountainous border region between the two nations, and they were willing to lay down their lives for every square inch.

Still, the gaudiness of the Midwinter’s Festival felt tasteless to Kel, a slap in the face to the soldiers who died and the ones who were still there fighting in the bleakest of conditions. “If everyone could put some trust in each other and go without the things they don’t need, we could redirect all this wealth to ending the war.”

“If people could trust each other and go without, we wouldn’t be fighting this war. We’d be living in some happy utopia that would be very boring for people like you and me.”

Oh my god, I wrote this Tortall fic in 2011. Sometimes the passage of time just hits. Especially because of the time I remember Kel has always been my favorite of Pierce's leads. It would be difficult to overstate the impact Kel as a character has had on me over the years. I wrote this fic in October 2011--that was during my first semester of college, when I was 18 years old. I'd brought The Protector of the Small books with me to college for emotional support. There was a hurricane on the east coast during our freshman orientation that knocked out the power in my dorm. I remember reading all four books by a window while it was raining like crazy, and then thinking ruefully that I should have saved them for later when I needed a pick me up.

That makes it an extra pleasant surprise when I reread it and really liked it! (I even had the very odd feeling of being inspired by my own ending.) I remembered the broad strokes of it--Kel and Alanna talking at a banquet while on the lookout for Tortall's second openly female page--and absolutely none of the details. I can't believe the only relationship tag I had in there was Kel/Dom. I'll be honest, I don't even really remember who Dom is. I went back and added Kel & Alanna as the main relationship because, like, duh. Yeah.

It's doubly weird to me I tagged the barely mentioned romantic pairing considering the story was written for a livejournal community challenge to specific write gen fic about women outside of the context of romance and shipping. This was a weird transition time in fandom where lj communities were still very prominent, but more and more fic was getting posted on AO3 instead of in a community or on a personal journal. I remember some debate about what female characters counted for femgenficathon (the community/challenge I wrote this for). It might have been a debate about trans women, but I remember more specifically discussions of whether genderswapped male characters counted.

Anyway, back to this fic specifically, it's funny the author's note is me talking about the difficulties of writing fanfic for a book because I want to match the author's style when that's something that I've been thinking about a lot lately writing for Scum Villain. What I remember most about this fic is specifically the work I put in studying Tamora Pierce's writing style so I could ape it. A sentence early--"Her closest tablemate, a small but sturdy red-headed woman Kel regarded with equal parts affection and awe, chuckled at Kel’s distress."--is the direct result of me studying Pierce's first paragraphs in her work to see how she reintroduces the reader to characters they have met before. There's also a simplicity and directness to the language that isn't my default. I can get pretty flowery. In my default state, I love a paragraph long metaphor.

These two women have this shared experience but also could not be more different. When I was a kid, I really wanted Alanna and Kel to be best friends, and I was disappointed when they weren't, but I understood why. They are very different people, almost in different genres. Alanna and Kel are two very different takes on the lady knight. Having to pretend to be a boy versus openly being a girl leads to such different dynamics. Alanna's story is so much about identity and self-definition, but also about being extraordinary. She's gifted with magic, she's touched by the goddess, she has a magic cat. She's a fantasy heroine. She's indisputably extraordinary.

Kel meanwhile has no magic. Her story emphasizes continual, endless practice, discipline, training. Her adventures are human-sized. Alanna's book one ends with defeating magical monsters in a cursed city. Kel's involves helping a bunch of other pages fight off bandits. She doesn't deal with gods; she gets put in charge of a refuge camp. Her story involves a lot of practical logistics in a way Alanna's doesn't. So she ends up being this character that's such a mix of realism and idealism, seeing the world the way it could and should be while also seeing the work and frustration of getting there. That was what made her such a huge inspiration to me as a kid--god, between her and Tiffany Aching, I have gotten so much from the tales of hard working girls.

That's why Kel in this fic looks to everyday and mundane examples of female fighters. Because she works so close to the ground, she appreciates the grassroots. I thought that hit a good balance of her faith in the future without making it sound like she thought gender equality would be easy. Actually, to be honest, I got...comforted, I guess, by my own ending. (Again, a very pleasant surprise.) Kel's hope always feels earned. That's what I was aiming for.

[bennie-jerry]

My Beef with Wanda Maximoff - An MCU Rant

Sorry not sorry, I will ride the Wanda-ain't-shiitake train till the wheels are worn out. I do not care what her fangirls say. And if you're legitimately going to be so overly offended just from me disliking a FICTIONAL character, I highly suggest you click off, make some tea, and watch a Ghibli movie.

How many times does it need to be said? Just because someone suffers from some form of (small or big) trauma, IT DOESN’T GIVE THEM A PASS TO DO EVIL SH—

I really REALLY sincerely hope there's lore or bits I'm missing here (and if so, PLEASE tell me because I WANT to be wrong so BAD). But from what I know and remember, I feel as though I have every right to be disgusted with who Wanda is as a person.

It frustrates me so much how this carmine-colored narcissist will whine about people being scared of her, but she does stuff only a scary person WOULD do.

Purposefully setting the Hulk off so you could use him as a wrecking ball on innocent civilians in Johannesburg during Age of Ultron? Seems scary as heck.

Literally warping the universe itself to hunt and kill a teenager who did nothing to you during Multiverse of Madness? Seems scary as heck.

Brainwashing an ENTIRE town JUST so you can live in delusion about your man not being dead during Wandavision? Seems DOUBLE scary as heck.

Don't even try to defend what she did in Age of Ultron. Even if she supposedly didn't INTEND to have civilians killed, she sure as HECK didn't seem all too sorry that it happened. She wasn't ‘regretful’ that she did it. She was only ‘regretful' when Bruce confronted her on it. She has the nerve (the utter AUDACITY) to hate Tony Stark for the same CRAP that she does (if not worse, which let's be honest—it’s worse).

At least Tony Stark DIED out of an effort to save everyone, whereas Wanda usually tends to only help others when it benefits HER.

Wanda is nothing more than a Multiversal brat with a god-complex and no one can tell me otherwise. If something does not go 100% her way, she completely acts out and throws a reality-warping tantrum.

“Oh, but she tried to fix everything in Wandavision!”

Yeah, only after finding out she was BRAINWASHING people!

How the FREAK do you reality warp an ENTIRE town (especially at the large radius she used her magic) and expect NO one to be under mind control? Would you NOT try to fly around the premises to see if ANYONE else was there?

Once again, even if this was an example where she didn't INTEND for it to happen, then that proves another great flaw that she has.

Wanda hardly (if ever) thinks through her actions. And then when her actions bite her in the butt, she has the nerve to be surprised. Wanda almost never (and I'm being generous here) considers how her actions harm or affect others until it turns around and affects HER.

She did not deserve Vision, he was too good of a man for her, sorry not sorry.

Just the stuff she did BEFORE Multiverse of Madness ALONE is enough to not like her.

Let's not even get into the fact she never ACTUALLY apologized to Bruce Banner for everything she put him through. All she said at most when he confronted her is, “I know you're angry…”

Oh wow, REALLY? I couldn't POSSIBLY understand why Banner would EVER be angry at you for essentially brain-raping him (going into his mind and memories without his CONSENT) and using his worst fears against him to trigger Hulk so you could use him like a personal killing machine, further lessening the very few support systems he already HAD. She should feel grateful Banner didn't immediately throw her through a wall upon seeing her.

“But she became an avenger and helped them in Endgame!”

I could not give less of a DOOKIE about the fact she did that. Wanda fighting Thanos was literally the ONLY option she possibly had if she didn't wanna turn into dust along with the other half of the population. Sure, she also did it because she was forced to kill her boo BECAUSE of Thanos, but let's be honest—she would've had to fight him regardless. Her handing Thanos’ butt to him (while a very cool scene) doesn't prove JACK about her character.

The fact she ever BECAME an avenger after effectively traumatizing the MAJORITY of them is mind-boggling to me.

“Oh, I'm sorry I weaponized all of your traumas against you for my own personal gain because I wanted to work with a genocidal robot, can I join you guys?”

“Sure, Wanda! Come into the team and we'll pretend like you didn't do a darn thing!”

(The fact this isn't even ALL that she's done is absurd, I can still keep going—)

Don't even get me STARTED on Multiverse of Madness. And before anyone tries to say, “She did it so she could have a reality with her children!”

BRO, HER KIDS WEREN'T EVEN FREAKING REAL—

Wanda Freaking Maximoff wanted to murder a TEENAGER all for some children that were not even ACTUAL people. And when she did have them, didn't she make them FIGHT against the military in Wandavision or am I mistaken (which I VERY MUCH hope I am because what the he---)?

I do not care whatsoever what her reason is or what trauma she went through. Attempted murder of a minor (ESPECIALLY in this case, a minor who didn't even do anything) is inexcusable to me.

There is no way in frog fingers you guys are ACTUALLY trying to justify and/or downplay a grown ADULT trying to murder a CHILD (because that's what America was—a CHILD).

(Her and Miguel O'Hara would get along GREAT, when's the collab--)

And by then, she had ALREADY brutally murdered a whole bunch of people and probably corrupted the multiverse even FURTHER than she already had.

It wasn't until an ALTERNATE version of her (who ACTUALLY had her kids) told her to sit the [BLEEP] down (I'm paraphrasing here, but you get my drift).

Wanda is NOT a victim. Is she a good villain? Yes. But this witch isn't a victim. Not anymore at least. She doesn't apologize for her actions. She doesn't take responsibility. She doesn't reflect on what she does.

And even when she DOES finally do ANY of those things in ANY capacity, the damage is already done. In fact, it's not JUST done, it's also BURNT inside the oven causing smoke to go everywhere.

There is no rhyme or reason you could pull out that will convince me to be anything short of angry with this character and I'm so tired of her fans trying to defend her just because she was a lab rat and lost her man.

Once again, it's not bad to like a character that does awful stuff. But please, for sanity sake, STOP acting like they're a lost little angel BECAUSE you like them. I know they say "hurt people hurt people" but that still doesn't justify doing bad stuff just because bad things happened to YOU.

[marvelwitchergilmore]

No Longer Alone

Summary: Logan Howlett x Fe!Reader -> Logan shows up for you even when you think you don't need him.

Disclaimer: Lot of angst, reader has painful flashbacks and finds out about her hidden past. Mentions of torture and being experimented on. Happy ending of sorts. Logan shows up for the reader -- kind of more on a platonic level but could be interpreted as more. Not Proof Read.

You’d been standing in melting snow for fifteen minutes. 

Wrapped up warm from a tank, long sleeve top, zipper hoodie, leather jacket, jeans, thermal socks and boots, the snow and the cold air wasn’t making its way into your skin. But there was still a chill. 

All around you it was as if no time had passed at all. The door had rusted a little with time, but its green colour still remained. Weeds still sprung up around the edge of the grass patches outside. The netting around the grounds couldn’t be used anymore, but they were still there. 

Your nose was already turning red from the cold air, and the tips of your fingers were starting to feel the chill, but it still didn’t equal anything you were feeling inside. 

You sniffed and took a few steps back, looking at the same concrete blocks you’d looked at for almost two years. Then you looked up and took a breath. 

You could still hear the noises, see the lab coats running around, hear the whirring of machines and the screams of all those who were tested before you, and after you. 

Yet you survived. 

“Are you going in, or did you just plan to stand out in the cold all day?”

Your head whipped to the right and you were met with Logan walking towards you. You hadn’t even heard him before he spoke. 

“What are you doing here?” You asked, looking around before looking back at him. 

“Freezing my ass off.” He answered. “Relax, no one else is here. It’s just me. So, this is it then?”

He took a look over the building in front of you as he stood beside you. You didn’t know what to say but your emotions landed on annoyed. A stall halt in your breathing forced you to look away from him and back at the building. 

“Yeah, this is it,” you said. “How did you-”

“Rogue. She saw you leave this morning.” Logan told you honestly. 

“Oh.”

Logan stayed with you in the short silence that followed. 

“Why are you here, Logan?”

He could lie, he could be sarcastic. But he opted for the truth. 

“I’ve done this once before, on my own,” he said. “I figured I wouldn’t let you go through the same thing. You don’t have to do everything alone.”

You knew that was true, but despite being alive for decades, you still hadn’t come to fully accept the concept for yourself. You were there for everyone else; they just couldn’t be there for you. 

“I don’t know what’s gonna be in there, or how it’s going to affect me,” you warned him. 

In recent months, your persistent headaches have been getting more vicious. From the odd dull ache behind one of your eyes, to full blow migraines that would make you want to sleep for months, if you could even get to sleep. All the while small noises and pictures would flash across your mind. 

On the rare occasion you did get some sleep, you’d wake because of a nightmare. Well, that you had thought was a nightmare until two weeks ago when it became clear your nightmares were actually memories. 

It happened in your classroom. 

One minute you were teaching your kids about the history of the British Empire when all of a sudden the attack happened faster than you could comprehend. It sent you to the floor and a second later Rogue had gone to find a teacher. She had found Logan and Storm in the hallway. 

Your grip on the leg of your blackboard was turning your knuckles white from how fiercely you were holding on, all in the hopes you wouldn’t scream out in pain. 

“Storm, get them out of here.”

She started ushering concerned and scared kids out of the classroom as Logan ran over to you and knelt on the floor beside you. He was calling your name but it was almost as if you couldn’t hear him. 

The whirring and bubbling and crashing noises ringing in your ears were too loud, then the screaming started. Before you knew it, pictures joined the noises. An abandoned army base, subjects locked in clear box rooms, each one getting sicker than the last. 

Then it was your turn. 

Eventually, Logan’s voice broke through and you managed to push past the pain and open your eyes in order to remind yourself where you were. The noise drowned away and so did the images of people in lab coats in your classroom. 

Then all you saw was Logan. 

“Hey,” Logan said to you as his arms came around you, pushing the hair from your face so he could see your eyes clearly. “What’s going on? Talk to me.”

“I-I don’t know.”

Logan looked over his shoulder. “Rogue, run and tell Jean to go to her lab.”

“What about Y/n?”

“I’ll take care of her, just go.”

The young girl nodded and ran directly out of the room, shouting behind her to Storm about what she was doing. As Storm came back into the classroom she was met with Logan lifting you from the ground as you stood weakly. 

It was two days of tests and talks with the Professor before being given time away from teaching – Logan offered to cover your lessons – and having more conversations which led to a reading from the Professor and another attack that provided you with more information to piece together. 

Then, one evening, smaller, less intense memories came flooding back giving you the full picture. 

Still standing beside you, Logan just gave you a reassuring smile. “I’ve lived for a long time. I don’t think there is anything that can happen that I won’t be able to deal with.”

You had to look away from him as your mind had a war with itself. You wanted to do it alone; you felt you had to. You’d been alive for a long time, too, and for most of it, you’d been alone. You’d faced a lot of fears alone, so why couldn’t you face this one alone, too? 

But the other part of you wanted to grip onto Logan’s hand for dear life and let him join you so, for once in your life, you didn’t have to be alone when facing something. Even if he didn’t know what would happen by the time you both walked back outside, you wouldn’t be the only one carrying that information. 

Looking at the door, you took in a deep breath and let it out, trying to force away the tears long enough to be able to see everything clearly. 

Then you took a step forward, and another, and another. 

From behind you, Logan smiled softly before following behind you as you walked towards the doors and reached for the handle. With your second hand over the middle of the doors where they met, you both heard a small click before you pulled at the door handle and the door creaked open and scraped against the ground a little. 

Inside was damp and cold, water dripping from the pipes that were running above your heads. You looked around before finding the mains switch and lifting up the lever. All the lights came on and whatever machinery was inside the building came to life for the first time in, probably, fifty years or more. 

You looked at Logan for reassurance and he nodded. He couldn’t hear anything, or rather, anyone that you couldn’t. You continued walking down the hallway, everything slowly becoming more and more familiar. 

On the ground, both yours and Logan’s boots either clicked against the drying concrete or splashed in the small piles of water that were gathering. 

“Recognise anything?”

“Too much.” Your voice was quiet, if a little hard. You continued to look around, more and more memories flooding through your mind. Then you powered through a set of doors, Logan jogging a little to catch up to you. 

“Where are you going?”

You turned down a few more corridors. Logan called out your name but it fell of deaf ears and you made it through a final set of metal doors. 

The lights came on inside but he couldn’t see anything but your silhouette.

“Where are you-” 

As Logan stopped by your side, he looked around. Two sides of the hallway, boxes no bigger than single prison cells lined the walls. Slowly you started to walk down it and the further you and Logan got, the more lights flicked on with the motion. 

The hallway seemed to just get longer and longer, and it just kept going, but you stopped a little over halfway down. 

Logan seemed to spin on his feet. “How many are even-”

“Three hundred and sixty. One eighty on each side, one research subject in each. Some men, some women. Some were just kids. All were those without family. Nobody misses or mourns them if something happens. No one asked questions about them when they went out one morning to pick up a loaf of bread or some eggs.”

Then you said something that sent the dagger in Logan’s heart ripping straight down with a blunt edge. 

“This one was mine.”

You could still feel what it was like; cowering and shivering in the corner, begging for death. All you wanted was for the pain in your veins to stop. Eventually you blacked out and woke back up strapped to a cold metal table because you were like five others. You’d survived the first night. 

The tests continued like that for weeks until one morning you woke up in a bed. It was lumpy and hard but it was better than the cold metal table. 

Until you collapsed in the Professor’s office ten days after your first attack in the classroom, you’d had no idea what had happened before you woke up in a stuffy motel room confused and in pain. 

From the stuffy motel room, you’d kept the knowledge of your sudden powers under wraps and signed up to help fill in the numbers at the motel owner’s club. The woman that ran it was a doctor at the hospital and they were looking for more nurses. Since you didn’t know anything other than your name, you signed up and found yourself a natural. 

From that moment on you built a life into one that you recognised. Eventually, your life from ‘before’ became nothing but a passing thought. Nobody had come looking for you, so maybe it wasn’t important to know what happened before. 

Eventually you were found in a hospital in New York by a man in a wheelchair complaining of a chesty cough. Then he told you the real reason he’d come to find you. 

Eventually you moved away from the clear box and walked back down the hallway towards the doors and started going in and out of each different room. Some of them you explained to Logan, others he could recognise himself.

Then, as you stood at the side of the metal table, you touched the surface and talked to Logan. 

“Why was I the only one to survive?”

Logan turned around from the file littered desk and looked at you. “How do you know you’re the only one?”

“Because I remember.” You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. “They were running me through more testing when they got word someone had found out what they were doing. They piled everyone into ex-service trucks. Between the screams…I happened.”

“You?”

“The tests they were running…it caused me more pain than they’d been expecting so I’d…I don’t know what I did, but I know it wasn’t good because when I woke up more places were being burned down.” You closed your eyes as tight as you could before continuing on. “I turned on the sprinklers before I left. I knew they were dealt with manually because one of the lab techs had been complaining about if something went wrong, what would happen. By the time I got outside everyone was gone. They either died of pain or in fear. Probably both.”

“That’s not your fault.”

The tears were falling from your closed eyes. “No, I know. I know, just…”

Logan came to your side and laid a hand on your shoulder. “Y/n, look at me.”

You didn’t.

“Please.”

After a while, you did. 

“What happened here is not your fault.” Logan told you. “They used and tortured you. And they did the same to countless others. None of that is your fault.”

“Why was I the only one to survive?” 

As you repeated your question, you stepped back and walked away from Logan. He remained still, watching as you paced around the room. 

“Why? Out of everyone, out of every single person they ran tests on, why was I the only one it worked on? Why was I the only one to survive? I know there’s survivor's guilt, but it’s a genuine question. Why? Why was I the only one to survive?”

“Because you already had a mutation.”

You stopped pacing and looked at Logan. “What?”

Logan didn’t bother explaining. All he did was walk over to where he’d been standing previously before he flicked open one of the files. There were nearly thirty pages worth of drug tests being done. 

“Do you remember these?” Logan held up a faded prescription bottle with small blue and black capsules. 

You flicked through the file yourself. “Yeah, they were given to some of us twice a day.”

“They’re suppressors.” 

The further you got in the file, the more you understood. 

“You had a mutation and they couldn’t risk it coming through at full force whilst they ran whatever sick tests they already wanted to run.”

Logan was right. 

There was a list of patients with different mutation abilities. Some labelled premature, others labelled late. But all were placed on the blue and black pill. Suppressing the mutation ability allowed for the lab coats to check if forcing a new mutation through could work. 

You didn’t know what to say, so Logan made a decision for you. 

“We should collect what we can and take it back to the Professor. And lock this place back up before some asshole decides that this place was a good idea.”

You took a breath and wiped away your tears. “You’re right.”

Whatever wasn’t burned or completely destroyed you either took back with you or took pictures. 

By the time you’d gathered what you could from the two smaller offices, you waited for Logan at the top of the stairs that overlooked where you’d both previously stood. 

After all those years wondering, after all the pain and fear and terror. After all those years of being alone, you finally had answered to what was before. In truth, you didn’t know if it helped. You could only hope that by walking inside, by having a confirmation to all the memories you’d been burdened with, the pain of not knowing would be gone. 

The pain from your head was gone. Even if it was replaced by a pain that came from the smell of the damp and the singe of ashes. 

“Ready to go?”

You took one final look around before looking back at Logan. “Ready?”

You led the way out before shutting out the lights and welding the lock back into place. 

It was odd, the feeling you got as you walked back into the cold and away from the bunker. You had a burning curiosity growing in your stomach and mind, but the coldness you’d felt before you’d walked inside, unsure of what to expect was slowly disappearing. 

You also knew the life you’d led. Only now you’d learned of a life you’d had before you made one of your own. No lab tech could take the life you made for yourself away from you. 

You and Logan pulled up at the school long after the sun had set. As you stepped out of your car, Logan switched the engine of his bike off and you rushed down the hallway where you found one light on at the end of the hallway. 

“Professor?”

He looked up with a smile. “Ah, you’re back. I must tell you, you’ve missed dinner but Hank has left two plates in the oven for you. All they need is warming up. Did you find what you were looking for?”

Looking away from Logan, you looked at the Professor. “And then some.”

As the hours passed, you’d come to an agreement with the Professor. Storm and Nightcrawler would go back to the base you’d been kept at. Perhaps they might find something that let them know there were other survivors. But other than that, your past would remain just that. The past. 

“I made a life for myself. The only one I’ve truly known. I’d like for it to stay that way. If I want more answers one day, I know where to go.”

The Professor agreed. “I’ll keep these files safe. I assume you’ve looked through them already?”

You nodded. “There’s a lot I’d rather not have remembered, but I got my closure.”

“Very well.”

Twenty minutes later, you and Logan were sitting down in the dim light of the kitchen eating your dinner. 

“Thank you for finding me today.” It felt a little awkward leaving your mouth in your voice. “And you’re right…about not having to be alone, so…thank you.”

Logan just graced you with a smile and a nod. “I meant it. You don’t have to be alone anymore.”

You didn’t know what to say so you just nodded and went back to eating. You and Logan remained in silence as you ate, washed and put away your plates. And as you both walked up towards your rooms, you took in the pictures that lined the walls. 

Previous students, past christmases, birthdays, sunday dinners. A plethora of memories scattered across the walls; all of which made you smile. 

All of which made you realise you might have done things alone for a long time, but you’d never truly been alone. Not only did you have friends, but you had an entire family behind you. 

One that would never leave you to be lonely, even when you wanted to be alone.