#but that irrational fear is still there even though you would never do that

[levis-poison-is-my-medicine]

Still Sick

(The Tea Lovers Pt. 11)

A Levi x reader fanfic

Crossposted from AO3

Everything was as usual. So why were you trembling?

tags: fluff and humor, silly and sweet, tea-obsessed fem!reader with their head in the clouds (word count: 4.4k)

(Part one) / (Levi x reader Masterlist)

You were standing in front of Levi's office, hand raised to knock, but for some reason, it refused to move. Instead of closing the distance between you and the door, like you wanted it to, your hand was shaking like a leaf caught in a storm. A very wet storm, since your palm was also sweating like crazy.

This had never happened to you before.

It was teatime, and normally you couldn't wait to get inside to enjoy some of that leafy goodness together. Normally.

But after yesterday, things were anything but normal.

A lot of things had happened. You'd dislocated your shoulder in a near-death experience with a Titan – the wooden training dummy type, but still – and had to be rescued by Levi, squashing your dignity even further. You'd then gotten yourself into a serious discussion with him over your participation in the next expedition. But none of that even came close to the realization that had hit you that evening: the small fact that you were in love with Levi Ackerman.

Needless to say, things were different now.

Like your heart thudding in your ears louder than a Titan's footsteps, or your arm no longer responding to your brain's commands. (There were no excuses. It wasn't even the one you'd dislocated.)

You took a deep breath. You could do this, like you had a million times before. It was just teatime. You loved teatime.

"For tea," you said, squaring your shoulders. Once again, you raised your fist into the air, moving it toward the door with all the momentum your newfound courage had bestowed upon it, and–

The door swung open.

Levi stood there, looking thoroughly unimpressed as your fist stopped just short of his face.

"The tea's getting cold," he said dryly. You could feel his breath on your hand as it awkwardly hovered there, inches away from his mouth.

You cleared your throat and quickly dropped your hand. But now you didn't know what to do with it. It just dangled at your side, suddenly feeling more like an alien appendage than a body part. You fidgeted with your sling, trying to look casual, though everything about you screamed not casual at all.

"Um," you croaked. Your mouth was dry as parchment. A currently empty parchment, for words were eluding you. It didn't help that Levi kept looking at you with that cool gaze of his, his expression as flat as ever, betraying nothing.

"I..." You started again. You swallowed. "Sorry for being late. I was busy writing the report about yesterday, and kind of lost track of time, and–"

"It's fine," Levi said dismissively. "Come in."

You nodded, trudging after him into his office, your feet heavy.

You sat down across from him at your usual spot and watched him fill up your cup with his usual smooth precision. Yes – everything was as usual. And yet. The silence between you felt heavy, somehow, like it was weighed down by all the unsaid words piling up inside of you. It was a strange, unfamiliar feeling. Before yesterday, you'd always been able to say what was on your mind; now it felt like something was holding you back.

It was probably the irrational fear that, no matter what you tried to say, the words slipping out of your mouth would be I'm in love with you instead. A confession you definitely weren't ready to make. Not until you knew how he felt about you – which was probably going to be never. Unless you asked him. Should you ask him?

You looked up nervously, only to find Levi staring at you, his brows slightly raised as he studied you. Was it because you were acting weird? Were you acting weird? You shifted awkwardly in your seat.

He gave a slight nod in the direction of the teacup still sitting on the table in front of you, untouched. "You don't want your tea?"

"Oh." You felt your face heat up. "Of course."

You reached for the cup with trembling fingers, causing it to rattle against the saucer in a staccato of tiny clickety-clinks. The shaking made the tea slosh around precariously.

You tried to steady it, but with only one hand, it was impossible – some tea spilled over the edge and onto the table. You winced. You knew how much he valued cleanliness. "I'm so sorry."

Levi calmly pulled a white handkerchief from his pocket and wiped up the mess, then shot you a look. "You okay?"

"Me?" You asked, still flustered. "Oh. Yeah. I'm okay. Totally."

You took a sip of what remained of your tea and promptly choked on it, making you cough violently.

"Totally fine, clearly," Levi deadpanned.

"Couldn't be… better," you wheezed, trying to catch your breath.

For some reason, Levi didn't look too convinced.

You avoided his scrutinizing gaze, suddenly very invested in ridding your sling from every last piece of lint, both real and imaginary.

Had teatime always been this long? You glanced at the clock on the wall. It hadn't even been ten minutes. You bit your lip, the silence growing more unbearable with every passing second. You should say something – anything – to get him talking, but what?

"Do–" you started, nearly choking on the words. "Do you like cats?"

"Yes," Levi replied, giving you absolutely nothing to work with.

"Cool," you said lamely.

Argh! The tension made you want to tear out all your hair.

You tried again. "So… What do you like about them?"

A pause. "They're clean, and quite independent."

"Kinda sounds like you, doesn't it?" You chuckled nervously.

"If you say so." But there was a slight, almost imperceptible quirk to the corners of his mouth, making your heart stop, then flutter back to life at double the speed. What was he doing to your body? This couldn't be healthy. Any longer, and you might go into cardiac arrest. You had to find a way to get out of here, quickly.

Determined, you grabbed ahold of your cup, managing to finish what was left without spilling another drop. It would be suspicious if you didn't have a second, though. You held out your cup, white-knuckling the handle in an iron grip to stop it from shaking. "Could I get some more, please?"

"Sure." You watched him pour the steaming liquid into your cup. As soon as he lifted the pot, you pulled the cup away and downed it without wasting a second.

This was going better than you had expected. You'd actually be able to pull off your usual three.

You held out your cup again. "Hit me up." Levi snorted but poured you another.

You gulped it down in one go. Before you could stop yourself, you shot Levi a quick glance, just long enough to catch the raised eyebrow, then quickly dropped your gaze to your knees.

"This was great," you began stiffly. "As always. But I should probably get going now. Still got some important… reporting to do. Yep. I really have to get back to my report. So… This was great. Did I say that already? Because it was. Great. Anyway…" You shot up so quickly, you almost toppled over the chair.

Levi looked up at you with narrowed eyes. It seemed like he was about to say something, but before he had a chance to get a word in, you quickly continued. "See you tomorrow." You gave him an awkward wave as you speed-walked to the door. "Or maybe at dinner. Who knows, right?" Definitely not going to happen. There was no way you'd get any food down with him in your line of sight. You'd have to sit at the other end of the mess hall, with your back to him. There was no other option, at least not at the moment.

But it had to get better eventually, right? You'd get used to your feelings, and everything would go back to normal. Yes. You nodded as you pulled open his office door and swiftly stepped outside, resisting the urge to look back. It just had to.

The door closed behind you with a thud, the sweet sound of a wooden barrier falling into place to protect you from the root of your racing heart. Your shoulders sagged as you leaned against it, a soft sigh escaping your lips.

Was being in love supposed to be this exhausting?

– –

Just as you'd planned, you managed to avoid Levi at dinner. You weren't so lucky at breakfast, though. Your roommates hadn't been particularly taken with your suggestion of switching things up for a change of scenery, and sadly your usual seat was a prime spot for Levi-viewing. (Definitely not by coincidence either, since both Lynne and Petra, who were regulars at your table, appreciated the front-row view of Levi in all his glory.)

But they had it easy. Their appreciation showed in admiring glances and little giggles.

Yours, on the other hand, turned you into a menace – your knife slipped from your sweaty grip multiple times, almost impaling the legs of your innocent seatmates. (It was a butter knife. But still.)

It was nerve-racking. You were almost relieved when it was time for your meeting with the commander to discuss the-near-death-by-dummy incident.

Erwin beckoned you inside. "Take a seat."

You did, fiddling with your sling as you waited for the commander to speak. But he remained silent, his stern gaze fixed on you, as if he were expecting you to say something first.

So you cleared your throat and began. "I sincerely apologize for my carelessness during training. As written in the report, I was distracted by a personal matter. There are no excuses, and it won't happen again. I promise the matter is… taken care of. I figured it out after a talk with Hange." Well, kind of taken care of. But as long as you steered clear from Levi, there should be no further distractions.

Erwin acknowledged your apology with a curt nod. "As you should now understand, what happened is far from a laughing matter. The training is designed to simulate the experience of a mission as closely as possible. Full attention is a prerequisite, just as it is on a real expedition. Just one moment of carelessness can cost you your life, like it almost did for you. You experienced it firsthand, so you understand why distractions can and will not be tolerated."

You swallowed. "Yes, sir. I understand."

Erwin lifted a thick eyebrow, clearly surprised by your unexpected formality. It was unlike you, but given the seriousness of the situation, you'd felt it was called for. For a moment, neither of you said a word. His forehead creased as he studied you, as if testing your sincerity. Finally, he gave a small nod.

"After careful consideration, I have decided that, based on your performance on past missions, you will be allowed to take part in the next expedition."

A wild grin formed on your lips, and you were ready to burst out with a spate of thanks, but Erwin held up a hand, signaling he wasn't done yet.

"However, I need you to understand that this is a preliminary decision, pending your performance during the next forest training. You will be closely monitored and evaluated before I make the final decision. But I trust you learned your lesson and will be fully present mentally."

"You bet!" You exclaimed full of enthusiasm. "I will give it my all, just like I do on missions. Thank you for your trust, I promise I won't disappoint!"

Erwin scrubbed a hand over his face, but there was a smile playing at the corners of his lips. Put at ease, you continued your chatter. "Honestly, I'm so relieved. A scout wouldn't be a scout without venturing beyond the walls. Kind of like a bird with no wings." You gestured to the wings of freedom emblazoned on his uniform jacket. "So I'm glad you decided to give me a chance. Being left behind at headquarters would've felt so… wrong. And kind of lonely, too."

Erwin rubbed his chin. "I see what you mean. The expeditions are what set us apart from the rest of the military, our defining purpose. And frankly, we can't afford to leave behind good soldiers. We need every man we can get."

You beamed at him. "You can definitely count on me!"

He regarded you warmly. "You certainly have the right spirit."

There was a knock on the door.

"Come in," Erwin called.

Levi stepped inside, carrying a few documents. Just the sight of him made your heart lurch in your chest.

"Ugh, nowhere's safe from him," you mumbled under your breath. Erwin shot you a strange look.

Flustered, you sprang to your feet. "Thanks again for the great talk. I promise I won't let you down. I'll leave you two to it, then."

You scrambled past Levi toward the door, almost tripping in your haste to escape. Your heart, too, seemed to stumble with each frantic beat. If just seeing him had this kind of effect on you, how could you possibly survive teatime today? There was just no way.

– –

It was a quarter to four. You were pacing through your room, trying to walk off the nervous energy that coursed through your veins like the concentrated essence of one hundred cups of tea. It was a last ditch effort, part of the strategy you'd come up with to get through teatime with Levi – to be so exhausted, you'd have no other option but to be calm.

It wasn't working in the slightest. Despite taking over chores left and right all day, you were still brimming with energy. You'd even volunteered to clean the stables, groom all the horses, pick every single last hoof – all one-handed. And yet, here you were, ready to run all the way to the capital on foot if only it would get you out of having to face Levi today.

It seemed like he mobilized energy reserves you didn't even know you had. Maybe Hange should investigate this phenomenon – it could help humanity gain the upper hand over the Titans. Endless energy by way of Levi.

You let out a deep, dramatic sigh and plopped down on a chair. This wasn't working. At this rate, Levi would find out something was up. After all, he was the most observant person you knew. And even worse, he might realize what it was, and then…

And then what? You had no idea. But it couldn't be good. Maybe he wouldn't want to have teatime together anymore. The thought made your stomach clench painfully, and you exhaled hard. If only you were better at hiding your feelings. You could already picture what would happen if you didn't get your emotions in check: At best, the victim of the inevitable nervous breakdown would be a tea cup, dropped from your sweaty hand. At worst, it would be you, after your heart had finally decided to give out under the pressure. Either way, disaster was guaranteed. How could you possibly prevent that?

Time to come up with another strategy.

You started pacing again, walking back and forth along the wall lined with shelves that held your collection of teapots. Your gaze landed on one, and without thinking, you traced the rough surface with your fingertips, feeling the jagged edges where the pieces had been painstakingly glued back together. It couldn't hold tea anymore, yet it had grown to be your favorite. Not really knowing why, you'd always felt a strange warmth in your chest just by looking at it.

Now you realized it was because it reminded you of Levi. He'd been the one to fix it for you after you had accidentally shattered it, no questions asked. Because this was the kind of person he was. Unfailingly reliable. Kind, even if he acted grumpy about it. Just thinking about him made you smile. It was strange how long it had taken you to realize how you felt about him. But now, you couldn't think of anything else. His voice. His hair. The way he'd looked at you in the forest when he'd found you. The feeling of his arms around you when you had shared a horse, your back against his chest. Warm. Safe.

You pressed your hands to your heart, trying to stop it from fluttering, but it was no use. Ugh. He was an even stronger stimulant than black tea. Maybe this should be your new strategy, then: getting used to him the same way a body got used to a drug, by slowly and carefully increasing the dosage – little by little, until even large amounts had no effect anymore.

"Yes, that could totally work," you mumbled to yourself. But that also meant you had to start with small doses. Teatime was off the table for now – no need to risk an overdose.

You cracked your knuckles, walked to the table, and got out at sheet of paper. Operation ' Levi-tolerance induction' was a go.

– –

You tiptoed to his office door, the piece of paper clutched in your clammy fingers. It read: Can't make it to teatime today. Not feeling well. Sorry for the short notice! It was the best you'd been able to come up with in the limited time you'd had.

You reached the door, quickly glancing left and right to make sure the coast was clear. Crouching low, you slid the piece of paper under the door, then shot back up and made a run for it.

Just as you turned the corner, you heard the door open. He was fast, like you'd expected. You fought the reflex to peek around the corner to see his reaction. You had to be strong and walk on. It was the only way for your plan to work. "Small doses," you whispered. "Small doses."

You skipped dinner to make your excuses seem more believable, drawing from your supply of tea biscuits to avoid going hungry.

At breakfast, you did your best to look as lethargic as possible. It wasn't so easy to look ill while simultaneously stuffing your face, but you gave it your all. You needed to stock up on energy, since the step-by-step plan called for only one encounter with Levi on the first day, meaning you'd have to skip dinner again.

During your designated Levi-exposure time, however, the idea was to look at him as much as possible to build your tolerance. This didn't turn out to pose as much of a challenge as you'd thought – you couldn't seem to stop yourself from staring at him, anyway. How could a person look this good while simply buttering a slice of bread? It shouldn't be legal. Seeing him work out would probably be the end of you. Luckily, you wouldn't be exposed to that just yet.

Because of your arm, the only training you were assigned to at the moment was stamina training – for today, that meant training together with squad Mike, so you'd be able to avoid Levi then. But you already feared for your heart when it would inevitably be squad Levi's turn.

For teatime, you slid another paper under his door – Can't make it. Still sick. – then fled the scene again. All that stamina training was really paying off.

You kept this up for days, strategically avoiding Levi while gradually increasing your exposure. It seemed to be working, but it also felt a little lonely. This was the longest you'd gone without talking to him since you'd met, and teatime alone in your room just didn't feel the same.

Fortunately, you wouldn't have to stick it out much longer. According to your plan, today would be the last day of skipping your shared tea.

As you walked down the hallway towards Levi's office, a small smile tugged at your lips. "Just one more day," you whispered, tightening your grip on the note in your hand. Still sick.

You hadn't realized how much you'd missed him, despite seeing him every day. It just wasn't the same without talking to him.

You crouched down in front of his door the same way you always did, but this time, the moment felt almost solemn. With a final nudge, you pushed the note underneath it.

The door flew open in an instant, and before you could even think of running away, he had already pulled you inside. Levi. You stared at him, wide-eyed with shock.

"I know you're not sick," he said, his hand still closed around your wrist. "You were at training every single day, so that can't be it. Something's wrong. Tell me what it is."

His gaze seared into your face, searching it for an answer. Your heart was thudding in your ears, your mind completely blank. All you could do was stare at him like a cornered animal, all thoughts eluding you. You couldn't get one word out. To make things even worse, you started to tremble.

Something flashed over his face, his brow furrowing just slightly. He let go of your wrist and stepped back. "Have some tea, first."

You legs felt numb as you walked over to the table and sat down. He pushed the cup toward you, and you took it, mechanically taking a sip. You still didn't know what to say. I'm head over heels for you, so I was trying to build up a tolerance, which clearly hasn't worked, because I'm still a nervous wreck around you. You couldn't possibly say that. It was your first time keeping words inside like that, consciously holding them back. It was almost painful for you. You really were sick. Lovesick.

Your eyes flicked up to Levi's face. He was still looking at you. His eyebrows were drawn together in a frown. You were so tense, you almost flinched when he started speaking again.

"You seem to be avoiding me. Why?"

"I–" you started. You wrung your hands, trying to come up with a plausible excuse. Levi waited for you to continue, but you still couldn't think of something to say. You just sat there, miserably staring at your hands.

"Is it because of what I said about you staying behind for the next expedition?"

Your eyes snapped to his. "What? No."

"Then why?"

"It's… It's not like I'm angry with you or anything. I'm sorry if I made you think that. It's just that…" You exhaled a shaky breath. "Can I...ask you something?"

"Sure."

"… What do you love most in this world? For me, I always thought it was tea but…" You trailed off. "Anyway, you don't have to answer this right now, just picture it in your head. And now, this next part is hypothetical, but…" You nervously played with your sling. "If a fire broke out here, and everyone else had already evacuated, but I was still inside, passed out from the smoke… What do you save? Me or… Your dust rag, or whatever. Whatever you love most." The last part was a lame attempt at a joke, but you didn't dare look up to see his reaction.

Levi snorted. "That's a stupid question."

You swallowed. Of course it was.

"Of course I would save you."

You jerked your head up. "You would?"

Levi nodded, his eyes fixed on you. You felt your face heat up under the intensity of his gaze.

"You… You can only save one, though, I forgot to say that part."

"Still you."

"Oh." Oh. Your breath caught. Did that mean…?

"It wasn't much of a choice," Levi muttered, his voice low and raspy, as if the words had been caught in his throat.

Your eyes widened. Your body started to tingle all over. Levi felt the same…?

You noticed the way he was looking at you, this strange softness around his eyes, open and raw, everything inside them bared.

He felt the same!

A wild happiness soared in your chest, spreading through you like liquid warmth, making your face light up with the widest, fiercest smile, too powerful to hold back – but you didn't have to hold back anymore.

"I'm so glad you feel the same," you told him, still beaming at him. You felt weightless, like everything pressing down on you had suddenly been lifted.

And there it was, tugging at the corners of his lips – his own quiet smile.

You couldn't sit still anymore, so you got up, but getting up wasn't enough, so you rounded the table, and then you took his hand, because the only way to make it feel enough was to be close to him.

"Levi," you said. He was looking up at you, and you were looking back at him. "I like you more than tea."

"You do, huh."

"Yep. A lot more, actually. Tea never made me this nervous. Not even twenty cups of it."

A pause. His eyes crinkled. "So that's what this was."

You nodded furiously. "I was so nervous, I couldn't think straight. I guess I was worried you wouldn't feel the same." You tugged at his hand, pulling him up to you. "But I'm not nervous anymore."

You pulled him even closer, until there was no distance left between you, your heart beating against his again, just like on the day he had rescued you.

"Not even a little?" he asked, his gaze locked with yours. Levi's palm was warm against your face as he cupped your cheek, his thumb tracing a slow path down your chin. The sensation sent a shiver down your spine.

"Maybe a bit…" Your voice was just a breathy whisper against his lips.

His answer was lost as he closed the distance between you, but you could feel it in the brush of his lips against yours. "Good."

Your eyes fluttered closed, and you let yourself get lost, no longer sure where you started and he ended.

When you opened them again, your tea had long gone cold. You didn't mind. You had something warm right here.

A/n: It finally happened! I can't believe I'm saying this, but the end is fast approaching. The next chapter will be an epilogue, so this actually marks the last full-length chapter of the tea lovers. See you soon <3

Tag list: @thechaoticarchivist, @mmm-alhaitham, @nironasaran, @leviiheichou, @huffleruffplant, @shutupp1, @iifrui, @shakysif, @ickearmn, @omlyurslvi, @wingoodlilboymyway, @dreamersbelieveinus

[dream-rot]

sometimes my brain goes into autopilot on this website and i hit the fun little reblog button without reading the fun little post and have to go back and check to make sure i just didnt reblog a fun little hate crime

[glader13]

Me and the Devil

A/N: this is true form/ Heian period Sukuna x Heian period reader

“Was this your plan all along?” You asked, “To make me have your son?”

He couldn’t hide his smirk and neither could you as you rested your body on top of his, staring into his fiery eyes, hands getting lost in his pink hair. Instead of answering, he trapped you with his arms, pressing your warm bodies even closer together. You kissed his neck, moving to his jawline, before finally landing on his lips. The kiss was lazy and sweet as his tongue softly caused your mouth to open, much different from bruising kisses just moments earlier.

“Kissing isn’t an answer,” you said, finally pulling away from him, “But I’m assuming it’s yes.”

“One of them,” he murmurs, caressing your back, as you lay down on top of him, “But you had most of the plans already thought out.”

You smiled softly, your fingers lazily tracing the markings on his skin. You didn’t fail to notice how he relaxed under the touch of your fingers, as if he was holding his breath before then. You stopped tracing his markings, and held his hand, staring into the garden, wondering if this is something, or if you are a glorified servant. He treats you like something special, he acts like you are, but are you truly worth his time? Or did he use you to help expand his reign of terror? The gifts, the jewels, the intimate moments together when he calls you his or mine, have some truth to it, right?

You have never dared to say those three words, but you thought about it, each time when he fucked you delirious, the words were always on your tongue, ready to spill over. But the binding curse, he wouldn’t do that to anyone, you hoped that he did it with the intention to keep you close, forever by his side. You hoped that it was a silent act of love, of his devotion. Your back seemed to tickle from the remembrance of the light strokes of the curse being imprinted, questioning him about how it works. You remember his kisses on your shoulders and back as you sat in between his legs, a pair of arms holding you against him as the other pair drew the curse. He explained something about if he gets sealed and awakened again, you will too, no matter how far in the future, he’ll have you. You remember feeling his dark eyes on you, waiting to see how you would react as you sat in the candlelight, feeling so close to him. As if the two of you shared one breath, feeling as if your hearts were beating as one.

“To be by your side would be an honor,” you told him then, lacing your hands together, despite wanting to say something else. Now, you felt the same three words again burning into your mind and tongue, you needed to say them so you could hear them fall from his lips. You were only aware of him and how his heart was beating steadily against your body, reverberating throughout your being. You were aware of how you yearned for him, aching for a confirmation of his love.

“Do you fear anything?” You asked, those words still on the tip of your tongue, though you were still unable to tell him.

“No,” you felt his voice rumble from his chest to your body, “Why should I have to fear anything?”

You pressed further, “To lose anything, do you fear that? That something you hold onto so closely will be taken away. You don’t fear that at all?”

You didn’t notice, but his eyes did finally lower to your face, then to your hand, which was hidden by his larger one. You felt his arms shift around you as if he was trying to hold you closer, as you relaxed in his arms, waiting for his answer, “Do you?” He asked.

“With all that’s been happening,” you sighed, “Sometimes I believe that being strong isn’t enough.”

“Well,” he says, gently holding the bottom of your face, forcing you to look into his dark eyes, “It’s irrational, so stop. You don’t need to let fear control you, not when someone as strong as me controls the earth that you walk on.”

“Understood, King of Curses,” you smiled, at which he rolled his eyes.

You slowly drifted into sleep, lulled by a mixture of his heart and the constant strokes of his fingers, he thought of how he got here, with you on him. Abused by everyone because of what you could do and see, you stumbled upon his palace. He could feel the untamed power radiating from you, and it intrigued him, along with your attitude towards him. But with some time, you convinced him to help you with your anger, and he watched you kill those who wronged you. In the blood, and the chaos of your smile, your eyes bled with something that he craved, and he was taken aback. Noticing more than just your power, it was beauty in the chaos.

He thought of these moments and watched you fall asleep all with a tightened jaw. He could never tell you about the moments when irrational fear would come over him when it comes to you and your safety, to your mortality. The attacks from those who are against him, who want to kill him, have been getting stronger, and more coordinated. Involving you when they can’t get to him. These sorcerers have focused their attention on stopping his reign and any attempts of it in the future, they don’t know if the two of you could have a child, hell, the two of you don’t even know. But with your curse technique mixed with Sukuna’s, they don’t want to take that chance. Outside of spreading his bloodline, you’re no saint, the blood of your village and countless others on your hands. They have a reason to kill you.

Your techniques, what makes you so valuable and formidable, is what makes you a target, causing him to feel irrational. It causes rage to course through him when he sees you with your injuries as you would sweetly tell him to not worry. It’s why he has kept you here as he would leave for his tasks, with Uraume to watch you. He does fear losing you, and in moments like this when you’re lying so peacefully on him, is when he feels it the most. Is this what humans call love, this feeling of wanting to protect you? Is this fear love? He lightly caressed your face, knowing that he would raze the world if your heart were to ever stop prematurely, nothing would be safe from him.

He quietly chuckles to himself, assuming that this is love.

A/N: This could be a part of a larger story, so please let me know what you think ☺️✌🏾

Part 2

[yinyuedijun]

CORRUPTIVE | ratiorine x masc reader

Ratio has been running himself ragged on a project. His blood pressure has been catastrophic, and his mood even worse. Aventurine offers a convenient outlet for his stress. (Or: You new boyfriend is a corrupting influence on you.)

3.2k words. written for @ficsforgaza's kinktober — prompt was double penetration (2 holes). reader is masc + afab (no surgery, explicit terms used), addressed as "boyfriend", "good boy", "baby". soft degradation, praise, 1 instance of name calling. pre-established romantic relationships with aventurine and dr ratio. divider by @/cafekitsune!

Ratio doesn't know why or how you ended up so besotted with Aventurine.

It isn't a matter of your intellect (of which you have in spades) nor your good-hearted nature (which is vastly different from the disposition of the gambler), though both make it puzzling that you would be so interested in the Stoneheart. It is simply that Ratio has never met a man as shy as you, and to this day he can’t fathom how you ever manage to entertain the gambler’s overt degeneracy both in and out of bed. When you’d first asked Ratio whether he would be comfortable with sharing you with the man, Aventurine’s arm hanging off your shoulder and a wicked smile on his face, he had been hardly able to believe it. Ratio even wondered if his synesthesia beacon was malfunctioning, and if by ‘sharing with’ you actually meant ‘rescuing from’.

“Don't worry, Doctor,” Aventurine had purred. “If you ever get jealous, you're free to join in on the fun.”

Ratio had bristled. Jealousy, at the time, implied to Ratio that he was irrational enough to fear that Aventurine might somehow steal you away from him if he did not choose to mutually participate in the relationship. But looking at the facts and at your behavioural history, it was simply inconceivable that Aventurine would be capable of ruining your bond. Logic dictated that your relationship with Ratio was too secure for it to dissolve simply because you were separately engaging in romantic relations with another man.

“Do what you want,” Ratio had said dispassionately and without hesitation. “It doesn't change anything between us. Do try your best to survive that insufferable attitude of his, though. You are free to come to me if you ever need a break from the gambler.”

Since you’ve begun seeing Aventurine, though, Ratio has begun to suspect that Aventurine had meant something else by jealousy. Something less related to the emotional dimension of sharing you and more to do with the physicality of it. Something about seeing you in the mornings-after and noticing the marks that Aventurine likes to litter across your neck. Something about how you seem more and more shameless every time you sleep with Ratio—how you seem able to take him deeper into your throat each time, how you seem to moan louder every time Ratio slides into you, how you now openly whine and beg to be filled by Ratio even though your cheeks are always hot with the embarrassment of doing so.

Something about how Aventurine seems to be training you to become unrepentantly needy for cock.

You are, again, a shy person. Your sex life with Ratio is largely reserved, fairly vanilla, and—and as far as he can tell—so satisfying that you never ask for anything else when he suggests it. I’m not very adventurous, you’d once laughed at him, more than a little sheepish. But dating Aventurine has clearly had a corruptive influence on you, and it had only become fully clear to Ratio the other day when he had moved to gently prep you, only for you to shake your head and reach between your legs, spreading yourself open for him.

“I-it's okay,” you’d panted, barely able to talk through the haze of your lust. “Aventurine already stretched me out earlier—see?”

When Ratio saw that your hole was not only gaping, but still dripping with Aventurine’s cum—he’d nearly passed out.

And now, as Ratio sits in his office, trying desperately to focus on revising the latest RFP from the Intelligentsia Guild while he listens to the rhythmic creak of your bed in the other room, the obscene noise of Aventurine’s hips slapping against your own as he pounds into you—

Well. Ratio admits that it should not have taken him so long to understand the meaning of ‘Join in on the fun’. He supposes he should acknowledge his own idiocy when he is guilty of it.

He would rather die than acknowledge that he does want to join the two of you, though.

Ratio is, for the millionth time, revisiting the blasted black hole information paradox: his least favourite problem in the entire field of quantum mechanics. He has an unquenchable thirst for knowledge, but he does sometimes wish to have less knowledge about this specific problem. Despite the fact that humanity has now colonised countless planets, asteroid belts, and moons, the exact properties of black holes remain an unknown that Ratio intends to eventually characterise. It's only a matter of time and effort—a great deal of which he's already spent, to no avail. Irritating, as it is a roadblock for a critical and time-sensitive project at the moment.

“Veritas,” you say, bringing him a bowl of hearty goulash that Aventurine had leisurely cooked during the time that Ratio had been slaving over these blasted equations, “you should take a break. You’ve hardly gotten any sleep for the past week.”

“Sleep can wait,” Ratio replies. His back aches, his wrists hurt, and his head is throbbing. His jaw aches from how much he's been grinding his teeth. “I am on the verge of a breakthrough—I will not rest until I’ve solved this.”

“But I'm worried about you,” you argue.

“I have no need for your worry,” he dismisses—snaps—and he knows he’s gone too far when he sees your brow furrow.

Aventurine, of course, manages to somehow be there. Why he's emerged from the kitchen to spectate on the two of you is a mystery to Ratio, but the Stoneheart appears to be openly and genuinely displeased at the interaction. It is a rarity for him, as Ratio has observed a trend in which Aventurine is least likely to show distress when he's actually hurt, and most likely to feign hurt when he's in control. A negative correlation, so to speak. The man does not like to reveal his emotions. But Ratio can generally get a good read on the Stoneheart, and he can tell that Aventurine’s current frown is genuine.

The concern on his expression fades when you roll your eyes at Ratio. “Okay, you should sleep and eat. Someone’s hangry.”

Ratio clears his throat. Always quick to own his errors as soon as he recognises them, he says, “My apologies. That was beneath me.”

“It's fine.” You stand behind him, placing your hands on his shoulders. As soon as you begin to knead your hands, Ratio becomes acutely aware of a knot at the base of his neck that your fingers are quickly undoing. “I know you're just stressed. You’ve run yourself ragged, Veritas—you’re going to get sick at this rate. Can I help you relax?”

Ratio closes his eyes, tries not to melt at your touch. You aren't wrong, he thinks. Prolonged stress compromises the immune system, and falling ill would hardly do anything for his overtaxed mind. He should do something to relax. He thinks about stepping away from the desk for the first time in hours, sinking into a warm bath… with you there, obviously—so he may wash your back, run his hands along your hot skin, kiss your shoulder amidst all the steam and fragra—

“I have an idea of what may fix the Doctor’s worsening health,” Aventurine says, his sly voice shattering Ratio's pleasant fantasy. The academician scowls.

“I have no need for your ideas,” Ratio snipes in revenge.

“Are you sure, Doctor? Because it seems you're running short on them.” Aventurine’s neon gaze roves over the several monitors in front of Ratio, all of which display his failed models. Ratio is startled.

“You understand the work here?”

“Not at all,” Aventurine replies breezily. “It was just a lucky guess. Or maybe an obvious one.” He slinks closer, wearing a grin that is both familiar and gratingly handsome. Ratio might have even found it charming if he didn't have such an outrageous headache. “Either way, it's clear to me that you need a break, plus a way to work off some of that stress.”

“Neither of which require your assistance.”

“Perhaps not mine,” Aventurine agrees. He's smiling when he adds, “But maybe our boyfriend’s?”

Ratio’s eyes narrow. He decides that he doesn’t like the cunning in his voice. “What do you mean?”

Aventurine’s mouth curls in a wicked, wicked way. He gives you a quick glance, as if asking you for permission, but you don't say anything to stop him—even though you can't look at either of them in the eye.

“Well,” the gambler says, “the two of us have been talking, and it turns out that your boyfriend’s been having some very interesting daydreams involving you…”

Ratio can't believe that this is happening.

In the first place, he'd hardly been able to process Aventurine’s suggestion. Ratio has long deduced that that you’re now much more open in bed, more transparent in your lust, but a fantasy like this one is still unprecedented based on his prior experiences with you. He hangs onto his disbelief right until the moment that you’re nude in front of him, face pressed into his pillows, ass up while you present yourself to both men. Aventurine has expertly teased your holes, so both of them are clenching and pulsing, needing to be filled. You're keeping yourself spread for them both obediently, so Ratio can see perfectly the way your cunt begins to drool when Aventurine eases his fingers into your other hole.

“Did you know, Doctor,” Aventurine drawled, “how much your boyfriend enjoys having both of his holes fucked at the same time?”

Ratio swallows. Can't take his eyes away from your glistening cunt, the way it twitches each time Aventurine moves his fingers inside you. “We—we have never tried.”

“Huh. Guess I can't blame you—it took a while for us to get him there.” His eyes almost gleam, the strange violet of his irises filled with cunning. “We had to go real slow with the toys, you know. I trained him pretty well, but”—Aventurine’s gaze flicks down to where Ratio is hard and throbbing—“he’s still never taken something as big as you. Not while I'm already inside him, anyway.”

You let out a whimper at the observation. “Are you excited?” Aventurine coos. You squirm, as if trying to push your hips toward them, and Aventurine laughs. “So needy. I’ve turned you into quite the cockslut, haven't I? But don't worry, baby. We’ll give you what you need soon enough—right, Doctor?”

Ratio struggles with a reply. He’s not talkative during sex beyond reassurances and encouragement, and perhaps the occasional curse. He doesn’t have a disposition for theatrics, and he certainly doesn’t have any inclination toward degrading ones. But Aventurine performs sex and decadence easily, his tongue silver and deft around his filthy words, his expressions nearly made for it. Ratio’s gut tightens when the gambler smirks at him, his cock twitching in his hand. I know what I'm doing to you, his face seems to say, and it leaves Ratio feeling at once irritated, out of his depth, and alarmingly horny.

For the sake of his blood pressure, Ratio turns his attention to you. The state that Aventurine has you in is obscene, panting and writhing as he eases a third finger into the tight ring of muscle that he’s trying to tease open. You moan a little, then whimper when Aventurine’s other hand finds your cunt. Ratio’s cock throbs at the noise that your pussy makes when Aventurine begins to tease it, dripping wet and embarrassing.

This is when you start to beg: “Please. Please, I'm ready, I promise. You don’t need to go slow, Aventurine, I promise, I can take—”

Your voice cuts out as Aventurine removes his fingers. Your holes are left empty, and Ratio can tell how badly you need them to be filled from the frustrated noise you make. Aventurine guides you into sitting, takes the opportunity to kiss you. “Since you asked so nicely,” Aventurine accedes, his lips moving against yours. He glances at Ratio after pulling away. “Well, then, Doctor—which of his holes would you prefer?”

Ratio swallows. He glances at your pleading expression, then at the space between your legs. At his hesitation, the corner of Aventurine’s mouth lifts. “Wait,” he says, “don’t tell me you’ve never tried anal?”

“Of course we have,” Ratio says curtly, almost defensive. Then he hesitates. “But we usually have… trouble.”

Ratio is large. It isn't a boast, but a factual statement, at least according to the statistics you once rattled off at him. It's challenging enough to make himself fit into your pussy; it’s an even longer process with your ass. He isn't sure from the way that you're begging that you can wait so long—and frankly, he isn't sure if he can either.

But gods, seeing Aventurine work you open for him like that…

Ratio’s concerns seem to have the opposite effect on Aventurine. He looks almost gleeful when he says, “Trouble? Oh, well, that settles it.” He cups your cheek, looks fond. “What do you think, baby? Can I use your cunt while Ratio fucks you from behind?”

You look deeply flustered, but you nod anyway. “Y-yes.” Your voice is trembling with excitement.

“Good boy,” Aventurine replies. He gives Ratio an appraising look, his eyes as hungry on him as they were on you. His gaze hardly strays from Ratio’s, even as he sits back and prompts you into straddling him. The position gives Ratio a maddening view of Aventurine’s length between your slick thighs. “Wanna give us a hand, Doctor?”

“You may run your mouth the whole night if I don't,” Ratio says dryly, and Aventurine laughs as the larger man places his hands on your hips. Aventurine pumps his length, lines himself up with your entrance. Ratio hears it when he nudges himself between your dripping folds, teasing you with the head of his cock.

“What, you don’t like my banter? Will you find other uses for my mouth later?” Aventurine teases, and Ratio is suddenly torn between thoughts of shoving his cock deep into Aventurine’s throat or making you ride Aventurine’s face. Both make for tantalizing images, and he decides he’ll revisit them later. He can already tell that the Stoneheart would find them equally appealing.

“We’ll see. For now”—Ratio begins to guide your hips down—“I’m sure there are other ways to get you quiet.”

Any witty retort dies on Aventurine’s tongue. He throws his head back as you sink onto his cock, overwhelmed, and Ratio can hardly blame him—he knows firsthand how good your cunt feels, always so tight and welcoming. You take Aventurine with more ease than you do Ratio, but not by much: it’s still an agonisingly slow and sweet process, getting your cunt to swallow the whole of him. Given complete control of your motions, Ratio guides your hips up and down, forcing you to take more of Aventurine’s length with each motion. He’s rewarded with the mesmerizing view of your pussy stretching out around the other man’s cock, leaving it glistening and creamy white with slick and pre.

When Ratio finally has you bottom out, Aventurine’s balls dripping with your arousal and pressed flush against you, the both of you let out strangled, broken groans. He lets you catch your breath before pulling you back so that Aventurine is pressed against your front walls, then pushes your belly for good measure. From the gasp you let out, Ratio can tell he's just forced the other man’s cock against your g-spot.

Aventurine’s eyes rove up and down your body, drinking in the sight of you. “Very good,” he purrs. “Are you ready to take Ratio now?”

“I—I think so,” you pant.

“I'll go slowly,” Ratio promises, and Aventurine watches carefully as he reaches for the lube.

“Don’t feel bad if you can't last,” he drawls, and Ratio tries not to scowl. How juvenile. The gambler must sense his disdain, because he shows his teeth in an almost-smile. “I'm being serious, Doctor. It feels very different from fucking someone by yourself, you know.”

“I’m certain I'll survive it,” Ratio says flatly. He pumps his cock once, twice, and Aventurine grabs your ass to spread you for him. Ratio starts pushing into you, begins stretching your tight hole around his girth. It has you shifting and squirming on Aventurine’s cock until Aventurine is forced to still you with his hands, his fingers digging into your hips.

“Be good now,” he says. “Stay still until we’re both inside you.”

“O-okay,” you say, voice watery, and Ratio almost feels bad at the whimper you let out when he pushes another inch inside you. Almost.

He can't help but mentally curse the other man as he slides into you. He hadn’t been lying. On a normal day, you're barely able to accommodate Ratio, but with Aventurine’s cock already deep in your cunt, sliding into you is even more difficult than usual. You feel almost unbearably tight and hot around him, and every time Aventurine moves inside you, Ratio can feel it—every twitch and press of the other man’s cock, barely separated by your walls. It's maddening.

It must be overwhelming for you, too. From the noises you're making, Ratio can tell you feel nearly at your limit. You’re choking by the time that Ratio is halfway inside you, your face thrown into Aventurine’s neck.

“I���I’m so full,” you gasp, and Aventurine hums soothingly as he kisses your nape.

“You can do it.” His eyes flicker to Ratio, who nods and keeps pushing. In a bid to help you relax, Ratio reaches between your legs and finds your sex. Your clit is swollen, neglected, and your hips jolt as soon as he starts rubbing it. Unwittingly grinding against Aventurine’s hips, you make the gambler groan at the motion, and the noise goes straight to Ratio's aching cock. He can hardly believe it when he finally manages to bottom out—leaking and twitching inside you, his balls heavy and tight against Aventurine’s.

“There,” Aventurine says, sounding fully in control even while breathless, “such a good boy, taking us both… we’re going to use your holes now, okay?”

Ratio knows that it's probably the praise that does it. As soon as you hear the words, you let out a familiar kind of whimper—pitched, frantic. “O-oh fuck,” you choke out, and suddenly Ratio feels your walls clenching hard around him, pulsing as your body tries to milk them both. He hisses and manages to hold back from his climax, but Aventurine is shameless about letting you drag him over the edge with you—Ratio can feel him twitching and spurting ropes of cum inside you, the pump of his cock as he begins to fuck you through your orgasm. Ratio can't tell if it's Aventurine’s cum or your squirt that's dripping onto him right now, only that the mess is making him throb inside you, and—

“Fuck,” he snarls, and he pulls out of you so that he can grab the base of his cock. He needs to cum so bad that it nearly hurts, but he doesn't allow himself to finish. Not yet.

You're incoherent with pleasure for a long while, your body a wanton mess between them, but Aventurine—never one to stay quiet for long—quickly recovers and regains control. He pulls out with ease, and Ratio is treated to the obscene sight of your empty holes, both gaping and leaking into their thighs, a mess of cum and pre and lube.

“See?” he pants, grinning at Ratio. “Hard not to cum, isn't it?”

Ratio has to breathe deeply to calm himself. “It did feel… different from usual,” he acknowledges.

“I'm sure,” Aventurine purrs. He glances at you, smiles fondly. “How do you feel?”

You make a euphoric, exhausted noise, and both of your partners understand it to mean that you’ve enjoyed yourself.

“Was that too much?” Ratio asks.

You make a noise that sounds like a No. Aventurine’s grin is sly; he glances at Ratio’s cock, still swollen and aching, and he kisses your forehead.

“Good,” he murmurs. Ratio can hardly believe it, but he can see Aventurine starting to stroke himself, already hardening again. “It looks like the good doctor is still in need of release. You won't mind helping him out for a little longer, will you?”

end

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[sweetbans29]

Teach Me: The Ask (i) - PB

Pairing: Paige Buecker x Reader

Next Part

Summary: You and Paige have been best friends for the last 6 years. You trust her completely. And it is because of that trust that you ask her a rather forward question. AKA - You ask Paige to teach you.

Warnings: best friend vulnerability, smitten Paige

Word Count: 3.5k

Teach Me Masterlist & Sweetbans Masterlist

AN: Let's do this.

It's a Tuesday afternoon when a girl from your chem class asks you out. The two of you had been talking for the past few weeks and you had gotten a vibe - at least were hoping you were getting a vibe. Turns out, you were correct. She asked you to go out that Friday night.

You are literally over the moon. Truth be told, you were never one to date in high school or the beginning of college for that matter. The high school thing never really bugged you, but once you got to college and saw how much fun your friends were having hooking up, and sort of felt like you were missing out. It was always something that lingered in the back of your mind.

The thing that always scared you was your lack of knowledge. You had never done anything sexual. You hadn't even had your first real kiss yet, talk about embarrassing. I mean you kissed Jacob in middle school spin the bottle but never counted it because it was when you learned you didn't like boys.

But now that all that is changing. Not like you are going to treat your chem date as one of the girls your friends bring home, but you also don't want to be completely clueless as to what to do if it does ever go there.

The now excitement turns into fear as you run through all the possibilities of how your inexperience could end something that hasn't even begun. In your irrational thinking, there is only one person who you can think of that could help you.

Paige Bueckers and you met in high school. Your dad was the high school girls' basketball coach, where Paige played during regular season all four years. You knew everything your dad knew about the game and were often his assistant coach even though you were also still in school. Nobody understood why you didn't continue playing after middle school and you honestly never really talked about it. All they knew was that your knowledge of the game was something that could take you places.

You were instantly impressed by Paige when she made the varsity team her freshman year. Your dad led a pretty excellent program for high school which caused families to move to your hometown to have their daughters play for him. He was also on the board of a club program which usually kept him pretty busy and you as you were always with him.

Paige was a player your dad had been following since she started middle school and playing at the club. You also had an eye on her and were impressed by how refined her skills were. So when she came and tried out for the high school team, she was tough to place. You thought she should have been on JV for a year before stepping up into varsity but your dad argued a good case as to why she should be on varsity.

She was one of 4 girls in your dad's career who had come in as a freshman and made varsity.

Paige and you actually butted heads during both of your freshman years. You would try and coach her and she would dismiss you immediately - only listening to your dad. I mean you couldn't really blame her, you were the same age as her trying to tell her how to be better at a sport you didn't play anymore.

It wasn't until the end of the season your guy's freshman year that she saw the value in you. It was during the State Class Tournament when the team was down by 10 in the last quarter and you were coaching the offense while your dad was coaching on defense. It was then that she truly saw your knowledge of the game and how you weren't just pulling stuff out of your ass.

The team won the championship - your first time and your dad's like 12th. It was after that game, while everyone was celebrating that Paige came up to you and apologized for being so dismissive all season. You told her not to sweat it and the rest is history.

The two of you became best friends sophomore year of high school. It was easy as you were a part of the team but not a player and Paige appreciated having a friend who didn't share the court with her - I mean you shared the court with her but in a completely different capacity. The two of you worked extremely well together when it came to the game and found out that you also enjoyed each other's company outside of the gym. It was like you two had an unspoken language and were able to communicate without anyone hearing a word.

Your friendship only continued to grow over the years. You became Paige's right hand when it came to playing ball - you knew the way she played like the back of your hand. You could tell her where she had gone wrong or where she could improve before she even made a move. When she committed to UConn, you knew that would be where you go. Your dad approved and you knew you could continue learning the game.

During your freshman year, you and Paige dormed together. You continued to watch her game and help her become a better player at a college level. You also got super close with her team. You fit in perfectly. For most of the time, that wasn't an issue - hanging out with the girls and spending time with them. The only time it became an issue is when you see them more than Paige. You love your best friend, but there are times when she gets a little territorial.

The first time you noticed this was in high school, it only happened once or twice but it was bad.

There was this one time during club season (about a year into your friendship) when you had gone to a tournament with your dad. Paige was playing and she knew you were going to be there. Granted, before the tourney you had told her you were going to be scooping out players with your dad. She knew you weren't there to watch her play.

As the day progressed, so did her game. She kept missing shots and couldn't get out of her head. And to top it all off - you were nowhere in sight. Paige knew that whenever she was off, you would be there to tell her exactly how she could fix it, even if it was just a knock upside her head to tell her to stop overthinking.

When she would have a moment, her eyes would scan the crowd for you but she could never find you. The frustration started to build up in her that by the end of the tournament, she didn't make a beeline to you (not that she knew where you were) rather just went straight home.

When you and your dad were finished, you looked at Paige's location on Find My Friends and noticed she was already home. Your heart sank a little seeing as she did come find you but shake it off.

A day passes and you hear nothing from Paige. Typically you wake up to a minimum of 3-4 notifications from her, whether it be texts, missed calls, or some video or meme she has sent. The next morning there was nothing.

You try and give her a call but no answer.

It is about 10am now and still nothing from Paige. You see she is at home and decide to make your way there. When you get there her dad is out working in the garage and greets you. He lets you know Paige has been out back working on her shot all morning. YOu thank him and make your way out to your best friend.

When you walk out she is locked in on a shooting drill. You stand there and watch her - already seeing what you had seen yesterday. You weren't able to watch full games for your best friend but every chance you got, you would sneak over to see how she was doing. You knew she was off and how she could adjust but every time you had an opportunity to go talk to her, your dad needed you with him.

"You're pulling your shot - your elbow and wrist aren't aligned. You lose it a second before your release causing you to shift right." You say to the girl who keeps missing about half of her shots.

Paige wants so badly to look at you and say she needed you yesterday but she still boils with an unknown anger. She says nothing.

"Paige, what's going on?" You ask when she doesn't respond - you even used her first name, and you never used her first name. Still no response from your stubborn friend as she goes up for another shot - missing it. You have seen enough.

You walk up to her, take the ball, and throw it into the yard. If she wants to play this game, she needs to know that 2 can play.

"What the hell?" She yells, finally looking at you.

Her look says more than you imagined it would. At first, all you see is the anger that she has been holding for the past 24 hours. But as you both stand there just staring at one another, you begin to see the hurt that lies behind it maybe even a hint of jealousy. There is something else in her eye but you can't quite pinpoint that one yet.

Your eyes soften as you look at the blonde in front of you, waiting for her to take the lead. You are wholeheartedly expecting her to yell at you for something you still have no idea about. And you're ready to give it right back to her.

The yelling never comes as Paige finally breaks eye contact with you and looks down.

"You weren't there." Is all Paige says. She continues to look down and behind picking at one of the nails.

"What are you talking about B?" You ask, needing her to be more specific.

"I needed you and you weren't there," she says again. You wrack your brain for what she could possibly be talking about when it clicks. Even though you saw what her issue was yesterday - you never corrected her during the game.

"That's what this is about?" You ask, your heart breaking slightly from the sight of your best friend's vulnerability. You see a switch in her flip and know you are about to get feisty Paige.

"You were at the tournament for the entire day and didn't come over to watch me for a second! That single-handedly was one of my worst tournaments and couldn't figure out what was going wrong. The day just kept getting worse. I would scan the crowd for you and you were nowhere in sight, off at some other court watching some other girl that wasn't me." She whispered the last part to herself more than you.

You wait a second, processing what she is saying and waiting to see if there is going to be anything else. When nothing else comes, you speak.

"During game three, is when you started pulling your shot. It started when no.15 from the other team fouled you midshot and you fell to the ground. That is why you missed your first free throw. Your next game was even worse - that is when you started getting in your head. Your shooting percentage was down 20% and you couldn't shake it because you were fully in your head at that point. Game 5 was the worst of them all because you had just given up on yourself. Your shot was all over the place as you were trying to adjust every single one you took. I was there P, you just couldn't see me." You say with a matter-of-fact tone.

"And it is my job to watch other athletes! You know this! That is why I started watching you," you finish looking at your best friend.

"You saw?" Paige asks.

"Of course, I saw B, you're my girl," You say using her nickname. Everyone always calls Paige either by her name or first initial. You, on the other hand, call her by her last initial. You are the only one she allows to call her by it. It started when you would only call her by her last name freshman year, never using her first name and it drove her crazy. When the two of you became best friends, you shortened it to B. She didn't know how she felt about it until you mentioned it you liked it because no one else called her that and you wanted a special nickname that only you use. Hence, her shooting daggers at anyone else who tries to call her by your nickname.

Paige's heart tugs when she hears you call her 'your girl'. That's all she really wants but values you too much to make any sort of move. She has come to terms that a friendship is all the two of you will ever have and is okay with that knowing you will always be there. But it is in moments like this that she wants more for the two of you.

She waddles over to you. You open your arms to embrace her. She walks into your arms and you hug her, she doesn't hug you back but stands there like a child with her head in your neck.

That night you spend the night at her house. The two of you have a movie night and Paige falls asleep to She's the Man and you stoking her hair.

You are running back to your apartment to see if Paige is around and find your apartment filled with girls from the team. They are all doing an IG live. You smile at the girls before you and know you need to wait to talk to Paige. You quietly make your way to your room but don't go completely unnoticed.

As you are making your way over, Paige's arm reaches back and squeezes your knee. You give her a smile and run your hands through her hair.

She lets out a little moan, not loud enough for anyone to hear except herself.

You are grateful you are covered by Azzi and another girl. There have been several times the two of you have had to mitigate dating rumors and didn't want to deal with that tonight. You head back to your room and lay on your bed scrolling through IG, waiting for the girls to finish up.

It also gives you time to think through how you want to approach talking to Paige. She is the only one you trust with something so intimate.

I mean not only is she your best friend, but since the two of you got to college she has been pretty active and I don't just mean playing ball. The two of you talked about her habits early on. She was allowed to bring girls home on weekends or after games and all you asked is that she didn't mention any details and that they were gone by the time you had to be up in the morning. Her sexual life never affected you. If you were honest, you were glad at least one of you was getting laid.

You hear the girls start saying their goodbyes and that is your cue that the live has ended and it is safe to make your way to tell them bye.

Making your way out, you head to the group. You say bye to all of them and they leave your apartment.

"How did it go?" You ask Paige as she grabs an apple and takes a bite.

"It was aight, they did a Q & A which was fun." She says as she wipes her bottom lip.

You start to feel nervous and begin fiddling with a paper on the counter.

"What's going on in that pretty little head of yours?" She asks noticing your nervousness. You give her a smile, always loving when she calls you pretty or any pet name really. It's endearing.

"I have to ask you something - and I don't really know how to ask it so I am just going to come out and ask," you say beginning to ramble. "You can say no, but I am only asking you because I know you and you know me and I trust you."

"Spit it out ma," she says going in for another bite of her apple.

"Willyoushowmehowtobeintimatewithagirl?" You say faster than you could breathe.

Paige chokes on her apple and begins to cough. She doesn't think she has heard you correctly.

"B, are you okay?" You ask patting her on the back. She takes a step away from you and you retreat a little yourself.

This was a bad idea, you think to yourself as you begin to feel embarrassed by the ask you have of your best friend.

"Repeat what you just said," she says, telling not asking. You open your mouth and she clarifies, "Slower this time."

You gulp, feeling even more nervous than before.

"Will you," you say with another gulp. "Will you show - teach me how to be intimate with a girl?"

Paige's mind is racing - almost as fast as her heart. She wants to say yes immediately but has done such a good job of hiding her feelings up to this point.

"You want me to show you how to fuck girls?" She asks bluntly.

You blush at her directness.

"Well that and more," you say. "You know, like what to do and what feels good. What girls like in bed and stuff but also like how to kiss and stuff." You can't look at her when you ask the last part.

Paige's head is now spinning and beginning to throb. And trust me when I say her head is not the only thing that is beginning to throb.

You begin to feel like you are asking too much of your best friend.

"B, you are the only person I trust and you know I am a literal child when it comes to being intimate with someone. I would never ask anyone else because they don't know me like you do and I know this wouldn't change anything between us." You say.

Paige is now leaning on the counter with her head in her hands. She is just trying to get the image of you, laying out before her - exposed, out of her head before she takes you right here on the kitchen counter. Her skin is buzzing.

"Paige," you begin and her head whips up. You are too caught up in your own nervousness to notice how her pupils are dilated.

"Why now?" She asks.

"A girl from one of my classes asked me out on Friday and I want to be prepared for anything," you say slightly embarrassed.

Paige's heart fills with jealousy thinking about another girl taking you out and making you laugh. Thinking about her touching you and making you moan her name.

A fire begins to burn in Paige. She is in a complete internal battle with herself. Why would she show you how to make someone else feel good? But at the same time, she absolutely hates the idea of you with someone else and if she is your first - she would at least have that.

You touch her arm as Paige's skin feels like it just went up into a burning pile of flames. When did you get so close to her?

"If this makes you uncomfortable, you don't have to do it." You say looking deep into her eyes.

She could stare into your eyes forever. You really don't know the effect you have on her. Paige would move mountains for you. She would do anything to make you happy even if it caused her pain. She would give you her last breath if it meant she got to see you smile one last time. As much as she knows this is a bad idea, she knows how much it took for you to ask her. She knows how uncomfortable you get when someone hits on you in a bar or when someone gets too close. She knows your ask is genuine because you used her first name.

Paige takes a moment to gather all of her thoughts then takes your hand.

"I'll do it," is all she says before you jump in her arms. Her arms wrap around you and she inhales the scent of your shampoo.

"Thank you so much B! I promise to be the best student ever," you say as you give her a squeeze.

She doesn't say it, but that is exactly what Paige is afraid of - you being her best. You being her best but not hers.

AN: First part down! Let me know what you think! This series will be posted every Sunday until The End is posted. I hope you enjoyed it. And as always, thank you for your love and support 💙

[dufferpuffer]

Longbottoms boggart wasn't Snape.

I mean you'd think this would be obvious enough - but people who hate Snape bring it up as their sort of trump card. "He was so bad he was a 13yr olds biggest fear!" No. He wasn't. Boggarts don't quite work like that. Boggarts are not themselves your worst fear - they make you FEEL your worst fear. Hermione isn't actually scared of McGonagall. (I'm sure alot of first years are scared of her though I mean she is strict and stern and a little scary at first.) Did she have some irrational fear of suddenly failing all her classes? Yeah, maybe a little bit - but it is BECAUSE she is scared of not being good enough. From the first book we see her struggling to fit in with her peers. She is muggleborn, she learned she was a witch so suddenly that she poured herself into being the most perfect witch she could.

Professor McGonagall, a stern and strict witch she respects, telling her she isn't good enough despite all of her best efforts makes her FEEL her worst fear. It has nothing to do with Minerva personally - honestly it could probably be replaced with Dumbledore or someone... its just she has far more interaction with Minerva.

SO - Longbottom and Snape: How do I know that Snape isn't his absolute worst fear? Because he still attends Potions every fucking week!!! Do you think RON could attend Charms if it was run by a spider?!? He can pass Snape in the hall, he can sit in the same room as Snape, he can even be teased and bullied by Snape. His parents were tortured to insanity by Death Eaters. Severus Snape is NOT his worst fear, that's stupid. Snape just makes him FEEL his worst fear - like McGonagall makes Hermione feel hers. SO what is Neville worst fear? I think the clue comes with him quickly saying that he also wouldn't want the Boggart to turn into his grandma. Inadequacy. Neville has never been good enough. He has low self worth. The tiniest bits of praise overwhelm him. He never wins any house points and losing some devastates him. He got his magic late, his family kept trying to tease it out of him, thought he was maybe a squib. He has a proud legacy to uphold and he is terrified he cannot. He is the worst potions student Snape has ever had.

Snape makes Neville feel inadequate. His grandmother makes him feel inadequate. But mix them together... and suddenly these two very scary people that seem to have such control over his life... look a little ridiculous.

DO you think Lupin is LITERALLY scared of the moon...? Or does the moon make him feel powerless and dangerous and inhumane? DO you think Harry is LITERALLY scared of Dementors...? Or is he scared of how powerless he is against the horrible way they make him feel - the trauma they bring up from the deep recesses of his mind?

Snape was not so horrific, so awful, so scary, so mean - that he as a man became Nevile's worst fear. He, like his grandma, makes him feel inadequate.

[nightlyrequiem]

hi there requiem !!!

so about being Valerias wife??? can we have some hcs on how she treats us (〃´▽`)

like how clingy, jealous, etc ^_^

throw in some smut too .. if you can (・・;)

thank you in advance!!! <3<33

-🃏🌀⭐️

Hi welcome back, happy to see your emojis in my inbox <33

I would LOVE to talk about how Valeria treats her wife. I have a few different ideas that I can't pick from

Being Valeria's Wife

I have two ideas, we'll start with the fluffier, happier ones. Then delve into the darker ones. Valeria is very doting when she has the time. She's a busy woman but when she's with you? She is with you. I like to think that Valeria's love language is acts of service. You're hungry? She'll cook for you. She'll arrange the cushions on the couch and bed for you. Valeria loves doing simple things for you.

Valeria is also a very jealous woman. She has this deep, irrational fear that one of your friends will woo you somehow and you'll cheat on her. She secretly goes through your phone. Not necessarily out of a lack of trust but just to reassure herself. She's not too clingy. Valeria loves cuddling up with you but she also likes her own space. She's perfectly fine with spending long periods of time away from you. (Not too long though.)

She's obsessed. But only because it's so hard for her to actually want someone in the first place. Not because she's guarding her heart but because she feels a lack of interest in literally everyone. So when she does finally catch feelings she falls fast, and she falls hard. Valeria is here to stay. If you're of a cheerful temperament, then everything is smooth sailing.

Valeria isn't a mental health expert though. The time and area she was raised in didn't really talk about it. So she'll struggle a bit if you have a mental illness. Not understanding certain behaviors and moods means things will be tense. Valeria will argue with you and fight with you, but eventually relents and does her own research. She learns how to help you. Offering that much needed emotional support.

She spoils you too. Even if you make your own money she will insist on paying for every date. If you want to pay the bills you're going to have to be good at arguing because she wants to pay those too.

Valeria isn't so good to you during serious arguments though. She's quick to anger and even quicker to use things against you. Then she'll give you the cold shoulder for a while. She's not great at apologizing either. In fact, she just doesn't. One day you'll wake up to her making you coffee in the kitchen acting like nothing happened. asking for an apology will just spark another argument.

That woman is also very horny. She's very attentive to you in bed. She likes being rough and borderline violent but if you don't like that she will be more gentle. That being said, she loves eating you out. In the shower, on the counter, in bed, in the car. Doesn't matter. She'll take any chance she can to use her mouth on you. She's not good at after care at first. You had to tell her that it doesn't feel good to be used and then left alone while she goes eats or something.

Now onto the darker stuff. Valeria loves you in her own way but she's dismissive and kind of mean sometimes. During fights she'll belittle, and name call you. She's jealous and a little insecure. It's not that she's not aware of her bad behavior, because she is. She always tells you and herself that she's going to change but she never does. She worries you'll eventually leave her.

She doesn't like your friends either. If you dare, try and hangout with them, she'll give you the cold shoulder. To her it feels like you prefer them over her and she's not about to beg for your attention. On the contrary, you have to beg for hers. She won't talk to you until you're in tears begging her to stop ignoring you, and even then, she's still a little icy for a few days.

She'll regularly go through your phone and delete pictures of you and your friends without telling you. She's dismissive and uncaring when you bring it up. I'm pretty sure I've mentioned it somewhere, but Valeria really struggled with empathy. She knows it hurts you and she'd prefer if it didn't, but she doesn't feel all that bad. The guilt she feels is too distant for her to do anything with.

She still loves you though, it's just not in a conventional way and if she maybe went to therapy, she could love you in a healthier way.

[cece693]

Handcuffs (Hannibal Lecter x GN! Reader)

Just wanted a break from writing Percy Jackson fics, so here's something for my favorite slasher :)

Summary: You made Hannibal Lecter fall in love with you, however, that doesn't mean that your cannibal suddenly turns into a normal person. You can't declaw a predator, nor do you want to.

tags: possessive Hannibal, reader loves him, insecurity, handcuffs, no funny business though ☹️

Hannibal was a man of little emotions, his person suit knitted tightly to conceal the darkness he harbored within. But after he met you, that meticulous facade he had spent his entire life perfecting turned to nothing. He allowed you to see him—see past the elegant, cultured mask to the predator lurking beneath. You saw the monster Hannibal Lecter was, and loved him regardless. You didn’t flinch from the truths others would fear, didn’t shy away from the hunger in his eyes or the blood on his hands. You accepted him, wholly, and in that acceptance, Hannibal found a kind of vulnerability he had never allowed himself to feel.

So, to be frightened of losing that bond—over something as trivial as a fleeting conversation—was not irrational to him. You and he were bound together, sewn tightly by an unspoken understanding, an irrevocable trust. It was not love in the conventional sense; it was something deeper, darker, like two conjoined twins who could not survive a separation. You were his, and the very idea of another daring to encroach on what belonged to him was an affront Hannibal could not tolerate.

You lay on the bed, one wrist tethered to the headboard by a pair of handcuffs. The metal was cool and unyielding against your skin, biting just enough to remind you of your restraints without truly hurting. Hannibal stood beside you, his form still as he observed you with that unnerving intensity, his eyes reflecting the dim light like those of a wolf caught between the urge to protect its territory and to devour it whole.

There was no anger in his face, only a calm so controlled it bordered on unnerving. It was the kind of calm that came before a storm—before a decision was made, or a life was taken. You knew better than to argue. The situation was absurd in its own way, but also unmistakably Hannibal. This was his way of showing love, his twisted, possessive proof that he could not and would not risk losing you. After all, if he didn’t care, you would not be breathing right now.

“I didn’t do anything wrong,” you said quietly, meeting his gaze with steady resolve. “You know that, Hannibal.”

He remained silent, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly as he watched you. Then he took a step closer, his fingers brushing over the curve of your cheek, trailing down to your jaw. The touch was gentle, but there was a possessiveness in the way his thumb grazed your skin.“The fault is not yours,” he conceded, his voice a low murmur. “But there are others—pigs—who think they can encroach upon what is mine.”

He moved his hand lower, letting his fingers curl around the cuff on your wrist. “I am not a man who shares,” he continued, his voice like dark velvet, smooth but edged with something dangerous. “Nor am I one who takes kindly to trespassers. You belong to me.”

“And I do,” you replied softly, letting the words fall between you like a vow. “You don’t have to worry. No one else even comes close.”

For a moment, Hannibal's expression softened, though only slightly. He leaned in, so close that you could feel the warmth of his breath on your skin, the faint scent of his cologne mingling with something unmistakably him. “You speak as though you understand,” he whispered, his lips brushing lightly against your ear, “but humans are fickle creatures. Even the strongest bonds can unravel if pulled upon by the wrong hands.”

You tilted your head just enough for it to hover near his ear. A whisper, a vow. “Not ours. Not this.” You rattled the cuff slightly for emphasis, giving a faint smile. “You don’t need these, Hannibal. You know I’m not going anywhere.”

A shadow of something almost like doubt flickered in Hannibal's face, which you didn't catch. Hannibal was not a man who often second-guessed himself, but when it came to you, there was a vulnerability he despised, a quiet dread that perhaps, one day, he would wake to find you gone.

Instead of unlocking the cuff, Hannibal eased himself onto the bed beside you. The mattress dipped slightly under his weight as he slid close, his arm looping around your waist with a possessive grip that didn’t quite loosen. He pressed his chest against your side, his legs intertwining with yours as though to form a barrier, ensuring you could not slip away even if you wanted to.

You felt his breath stir the hairs on the back of your neck as he spoke, his voice low and almost tender. “It is not you I distrust,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your temple. “It is the world. The world is full of banal, foolish people who do not understand the bond we share. I will not allow anyone to fracture it.”

His hand moved up your back, his fingers splaying against your spine as though grounding himself in the reality of your presence. “You have spoiled me, my dear,” he continued, his tone dropping to a near whisper, “with your loyalty, with your love. And now, I am left with the knowledge that I could not bear to be without you.”

You nestled closer to him, feeling the tension gradually bleed from his form as he adjusted his hold around you. The handcuff remained fastened, but it felt less like a restraint now, more like a reminder of his claim on you. His thumb traced small circles over your skin, soothing in its rhythm.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you said softly, your voice laced with affection. “You’re stuck with me, Hannibal. Whether you like it or not.”

He let out a low, almost inaudible chuckle, a rare sound that warmed your heart and made you fall more in love with this monster. “Indeed,” he agreed, pressing a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there as though he could seal the promise into your skin. “And I would not have it any other way.”

As his breathing began to slow, the grip around your waist eased just enough to allow you to shift comfortably against him. But even in sleep, his arm remained draped over you, his fingers curling possessively into the fabric of your clothes. It was a silent promise, a wordless reminder that even in his most vulnerable moments, he would not let you go.

You listened to the rhythmic thrum of his heartbeat, steady and strong, a soothing lullaby that seemed almost out of place for a man who carried so much darkness inside him. But it was real—just like his love for you, just like the monster you had chosen to love in return.

As the darkness of the room wrapped around you both, you let your eyes close, feeling the weight of his possessiveness settle over you like a protective shroud. There was comfort in knowing that you belonged to him—and that he belonged to you in return, even if it was in the most unconventional, twisted way.

[cod-dump]

Step dad Graves is so so funny. Especially if they’re close in age and both secretly love it whilst putting up a fuss. Let Ghost collect father figures and Graves get to impart knowledge . Let Graves hate it at first then get some Ghost lore and be like “…I’m not your stepdad I’m only 6 years older than you…… what do you mean you never had a birthday cake…… what do you mean you were made to laugh at a dying prostitute…… “well guess I’m getting this man a skull cake and we’re playing catch in the yard

The more Graves learned about Ghost the harder it was to pretend he didn’t like him.

They were barely friendly when they worked together going after Hassan and Graves’ betrayal ruined whatever that was. Graves cutting ties with Shepherd and fully working with 141 (to atone for his past and right wrongs all while being able to still work) Ghost had greeted him with much expected hostility.

And Graves responded with indifference. He figured things would stay that way, Ghost would never let go what happened and Graves would never show any care for the man beyond comrades. But then Graves started learning bits and pieces about him, the longer they were around each other the more Ghost started to start talking to him with actual conversations instead of threats. That’s how Graves learned about his fear of snakes. The Ghost, the man who would pick up a fucking spider bare handed, an animal lover to the core, was terrified of snakes.

Graves discovered this during a mission together. They had spent that time in that forest in almost complete silence, waiting for Price to give them the go ahead, when the fearsome Ghost jolted where he laid, flinging something into the bushes nearby before moving away from the spot he had laid in without even moving an inch for two hours.

“Fucking devilish bitch!”

Graves saw the tail end of a snake darting away, and that was when he learned about Ghost’s fear. And that would open up to him learning a lot more about Ghost, more than he ever imagined due to their not so friendly work environment. He, of course, originally was going to taunt Ghost over his rather surprising fear, planning to exploit it until it was no longer effective.

But, of course, he would learn something else related to the snake. Ghost seemingly was deep in his mind after running in with the limbless creature, and he offered up a explanation for his irrational fear (irrational considering all the other creatures he adores).

“Old man liked to force them in my face. Thought how I squirmed was hilarious.”

And just like that, after that piece of information was processed, Ghost didn’t say another word. Graves was left with that piece of history involving Ghost he never expected to learn, let alone from Ghost himself. And after that, Ghost seemed to open up to him more. Graves would like to think he heard himself some leeway with Ghost by not going through with his original intentions on teasing him. It was the only thing that made sense as to why Ghost was starting to warm up to him.

Warming up to him to the point he was willingly offering up more of his lore.

“Don’t like crowds, especially not in dark places.”

He dropped that on another mission, completely unprompted. It was a mutter just for Graves to hear, even though Gaz wasn’t far away. That made something stir within him, something about Ghost just telling him something instead of a man who he is considerably much closer with. And that slight tug of his heart strings became pulling when he learned why he didn’t like crowds. And his old man was behind the reason as well.

The more Graves learned about Ghost, the more he hated his probably long dead father. There was a twisted similarity to Mr. Riley and Graves’ own father. And that just made him become protective of Ghost. He started treating Ghost like he did his Shadows. He was pretty much Shadow materiel with skill and efficiency, but now he was a Shadow to Graves because of what he went through.

Graves had a type he went for when recruiting Shadows. He looked for skill, experience, attitude — But he also looked at their history. He has a soft spot for those with bad home lives, made him feel more connected with them. If he was looking over Ghost’s records with the intention of recruiting him into Shadow Company, man would’ve been a Shadow after he learned about Roba.

“Since when are you two friends?” Soap had questioned, Graves noticing the jealousy in his voice but also the curiosity.

“I can understand his accent better,” Ghost jabbed at Soap, his eyes squinting slightly to show he was smiling under his mask.

Soap made a very insulted gasp, “Oh, is that so?”

Graves felt at place finally, standing next to Ghost as he and Soap bickered. It turned playful rather quickly and Graves felt more at ease next to Soap than he had since they first met. And, dare he even think it, Ghost felt comfortable standing next to him. Finally opening up, finally dropping his metaphorical mask of hostility (Graves doubts he’ll take off his actual mask any time soon).

And, of course Price noticed. He noticed a while back, Graves knows he had. Man knows anything that has to do with his boys, especially Ghost. He hadn’t said a word, never hinted in any way to show he knew. He just acted like it had always been. It was like he wasn’t even surprised. Goes to show he knew Ghost was better than anyone.

“Good to see you two finally getting along,” Price said to Graves one evening, the two had long retired to bed while the boys stayed up playing cards (not UNO, they would be enemies before morning and it would take a few days to get them to drop the pettiness).

Graves hummed, taking a moment to realize what Price was talking about. He didn’t expect him to say anything without Graves mentioning it first.

“We’re tolerating each other.”

Price hummed back, slight smirk on his lips. He knew. He knew that Graves considers Ghost as one of his Shadows. As one of his boys.

[animeyanderelover]

Hi can I request yandere soul eater squad hcs please separate

if that’s to many requests then yandere black star , Tsubaki , Kid and Soul , Maka is fine please💕

Tw: Yandere themes, possessive relationship, obsession, clinginess, delusional behavior, stalking, manipulation, blackmailing, isolation, abduction, death

C-Group Hc’s Maka Albarn

💚​From all the people surrounding her, Maka is by far the most mature one which allows her to appear fairly normal within the context of her own developing obsession. As a person who is fairly in tune with her own emotions, she catches on pretty early on her developing feelings and feels the guilt almost immediately. Maka is very self-aware and after having grown up realising just how depraved her own father is whenever he is around other women, she has sworn herself to be like her mother. It is this oath that she made to herself all those years ago that heightens the shame tenfold as she feels like she has failed and become just as low as her father is with her only solace being that at least she seems to only have space for you in her thoughts. Overwhelmed and unsure how to handle her growing feelings, Maka avoids you as good as she can. There's a constant strain on her eyes as she does her best to not will herself to glance towards your direction, her feet instantly moving the opposite direction as soon as she spots you. Even if the two of you were close before and her sudden frigid behavior may hurt you, she deems it to be for the best.

💚​Behind the curtains she still keeps her eyes out for you though in case you should bring yourself in danger. Another attribute of hers is after all her overprotective instinct and that is subconsciously fueled now that her obsession starts to kick in. Whilst she is conscious of her thought process, it is hard for her to stop her silent need to prove herself, especially since she sometimes feels that only Soul is contributing and she brings nothing to the table. The gnawing feeling of uselessness is a terrible feeling that she is unable to push down as her insecurities catch up to her all because her obsession has made her more susceptible to all sorts of emotions. She wants to be seen as capable, especially by you, but that does lead to her at times as coming over as too demanding and strict with you. She has always prefered studying over playing outside and that preference of hers definitely translates to her obsession. Those study sessions of her are not solely done out of malicious intent though as she instead strives to work on her own self-control and to gain more control over her emotions.

💚​Maka handles jealousy better than most of her friends would yet even then she feels like she can do better. Her unwillingness to turn into a depraved individual that is only dictated by desire pushes her to work even harder on her own patience and self-control. Whilst she isn't a person who will be jealous to the point of being irrational, she has a somewhat short temper and tends to snap easily if anything prods her the wrong way. Any spark she notices inside of her and any twitch of her eyebrows is a sign for her that she has still work to do and that she can still do better. The situation would change if the both of you are in an established relationship as she will be fairly confident then. Maybe there is a chance that she at times is slightly paranoid and fears that you may be like her dad, though that fear remains as something that is never proven yet still ingrained in her subconsciousness.

💚​As highly skilled as she is, Maka is not one who craves for brawls as much as people like Black Star would. One can't deny that she is willing to help you and save you in whatever way she can when she realises that there is something that you struggle with yet she is also just as capable to reason with opponents unless she arrives at the conclusion that they won't listen to her. It is likely that at times she may end up being a bit too eager to the point where she is being reckless all because she has that hidden desire to prove herself. In desperate situations it may happen that she subconsciously activates Black Blood's Madness which always exposes a different side of hers. She is much more erratic and violent, downright aggressive as she tries to slice her opponents into half all whilst her mind can only focus on the fact that if they are gone, she will have done her job of protecting you. Outside of this maddening state, she puts more emphasis and focus in helping you and keeping you above all safe.

💚​Maka actually recognises that moving in with someone is in general a very big decision to make and so an abduction is an immediate no-go for her for multiple reasons. She might as well give up on all of her principles if she were to ever abduct you as she would see herself as something even lower than her own father and his pathetic womanizing behavior. An emotion inside her which is unlike most other people with obsession is that she actually hesitates to move in with you. It is a very big step and at the same time it is also a very daunting step. Her hesitation does lie in her subconscious paranoia that you may at one point end up betraying her or hurting her somehow and she'd never get over the exposure of being the fool who fell in love with someone who isn't committed because differently from her mother she knows that she won't be able to stay strong. No, she instead fears being degraded to the desperate fool who stay and hopes that everything will end up fine which is why she would grow siginifcantly more strict the moment the two of you would ever move in. She isn't necessarily overbearing but it is noticable enough for even you to recognise.

💚​Her subconscious paranoia is rather fascinating as it essentially leads her to study you intensely all to figure out if you are someone who wouldn't end up ditching her or who would end up cheating on her and as long as she hasn't finished her research, she won't allow herself to get closer to you. It is only after you have proven yourself to her that she finally allows herself to open up towards you. She isn't one to boast about the relationship though as she values privacy and secrecy which comes to bite her back when her friends eventually find out and some of them, like Soul and Black Star, start complaining that Maka didn't tell them sooner. Due to her preference for privacy and staying at home, her prefered dates with you are always in the safety of four walls. She needs her time with you alone because let's be honest, whenever the two of you hang out with her friends you are always stolen away by them all with the sole intention to get her to to act jealous which always is something they rather on come to regret as Maka will be very direct about what she thinks about that.

Soul Evans

🤍​Soul's attitude is one that is normally always rather aloof and nonchalant which is a great way for him to hide his growing feelings for you. It takes him a good while to even recognise those stirring emotions he feels inside his chest whenever you are around but at the same time he refuses to show them as he thinks that it wouldn't be very cool of him if he were to reveal it. It's about impossible for him to completely conceal it though as he finds his eyes glancing to your form whenever you are within sight and especially if you do something he considers to be sexy he would have a hard time hiding his burning cheeks. It's important to point out that Soul will be oblivious to a certain degree at the beginning, he is absolutely not delusional and that is largely because of the Black Blood and the Little Demon inside of him which you can quite literally describe as the devil on his shoulder, the personification of the darker side of his feelings and thoughts that urges him on to give in. It's precisely because of this that Soul will also work on his own self-control as soon as the Little Demon has exposed to him his feelings, terrified to end up doing what the devil has ominously foreboded him.

🤍​Reluctant to let anyone on about his internal struggles and too ashamed to admit just how uncool he is being, Soul lets it all simmer beneath the surface. His desire and obsession only grow so much worse as he initially attempts to completely avoid you yet the Little Demon haunts him and encourages him to give in to what he truly wants. Eventually it all threatens to become unbearable which is why he finds himself frequently stalking you. What he initially planned to only do one or twice a week has led him down to an activity that is a daily need even if he is normally someone who is on a more lazy side. He feels slightly motivated and that is the scariest thing that could happen to him. He's rather protective of you which is his prefered reason to somehow convince himself that stalking you is at least for your own good but deep down he knows the truth. There's more to it then just wanting to protect you and he dreads the sparks of possessive desires that seem to awaken within him.

🤍​He is a laid-back dude. He knows that and he won't be put down to transform into a jealous mess but it is because he doesn't make any moves on you that he is also aware that technically anyone could try to take you which is why he stalks on you and the people you hang out with. Safe to say though is that he absolutely isn't immune to jealousy either and it is this emotion that brings out the most immature side of his when it grows too much for him to handle and he reasons that it'd be better to step in now before things get out of control. He just comes waltzing in, still trying to play it cool, as he gives a lazy yet arrogant grin though that grin can quickly disappear if the situation escalates and he gets further provoked in which case he won't back down as he's too argumentative and stubborn to give in. Eventually he will be dragged down to act all immature, a scowl on his face as he bickers with the other person. He'd never admit later on though that he was feeling rather jealous.

🤍​The Little Demon loves to inform him about everything going on with his feelings. The dark thoughts and feelings are definitely there and as aware as he is, Soul has found out that being lucid about stuff isn't always the best thing. No, instead he finds himself sometimes almost overthinking whenever he watches you starting to hang out with someone new and starts to wonder if he should somehow interfere before things might escalate into something that is sure to rip his walls apart. Being an overthinker doesn't fit him at all and he knows he's being extremely uncool because of it. As he is infected by Black Blood, risk is that he can fall victim to Madness and in such a state he may end up completely giving in and going after everyone who ever agitated him in the slightest. Normally he is regarded as a slacker yet his obsession does motivate him, for the better or worse, which is why he is so protective of you in the first place and works to become better and stronger to protect you from other dangers as well as his own dark longing.

🤍​Unless Madness takes hold, I don't see Soul being capable of kidnapping you. He likes to think that taking care of someone would be too much of a hassle to begin with though truth be told, he probably would put in the work if the two of you were to live together and he merely tells himself that so that he never even considers the thought. He finds himself often hanging around you though he insists on it all being a coincidence whenever you point that out to him, unwilling to admit his feelings. If a situation should end up getting dangerously risky though, Soul won't hesitate to knock you out and lock you away somewhere for a certain amount of time until everything has de-escalated and he takes the full swing of your anger always afterwards, torn apart between acting as if he doesn't care or actually apologising since he feels genuinely sorry for what he has done. He just wanted you to be safe, that is all. In a mutual relationship he wouldn't bring up the topic of living together until you do but he'd vow to do his best to make you happy even if he can be rather lazy still.

🤍​Despite his feelings Soul still ends up avoiding to admit to you that he loves you. He's too ashamed and insecure and the Little Demon installs fear inside of him that if he were to ever give in to his feelings, he would do terrible things. You probably wouldn't even know just how long he has silently been harboring such feelings for you as you have always gotten the impression that he doesn't really like you due to his aloof behavior around you. It's likely that he admits it by accident when both of you get into an argument, most likely because he was concerned about your safety and went too far, and spills it out in the heat of the moment. He'd be quite stiff and awkward with PDA for a while as it kind of ruins the cool image he tries to build as he tends to get easily flustered whenever you abruptly grab his hand or kiss him but he learns to tolerate it. Secretly he enjoys it as well. He still expects people to know that you're taken though and will give everyone a glare who tries to flirt with you even if there are no serious intentions behind it.

Black Star

⭐​Black Star sure as hell is a unique assassin if you've ever seen one. There are no concepts such as stealth and silence with him as he strives to always be in the spotlight. Perhaps it is because of this rather loud trait of his that you always know about him yet for some reason Black Star still manages to be surprised when you effortlessly locate him within your surroundings. On the other hand it really isn't like he is making any effort to be categorised as a stalker. No, he wants to be in the spotlight and wants all the attention from you that he can get which is the reason why he does his best to squeeze himself into as many aspects of your life as he can. He's so clingy and always insists on following you wherever you go. You never know when shit might get down after all and he has somehow proclaimed himself to be your personal hero which is why he sees it as his duty to ensure that nothing happens to you. Tsubaki really is the only one who can manage to hold him back a bit when she senses that you are feeling overwhelmed, something that flies more than once over his head.

⭐​Soul and Black Star are both noted to be immature in a couple of aspects yet it is only Black Star who would be the delusional one between the two of them. He remains completely unaware of the visible discomfort he can cause you due to his wild and clingy personaliry as he doesn't believe that you would ever feel uncomfortable in his presence. After all he is your hero who will protect you and who you admire. This misplaced belief of his has made him quite possessive to make it even worse as he thinks of himself as the only one worthy enough to claim such a title in your life and for that naturally deserves to be your lover the most. One thing you have to give him though. He takes his role very serious, though this is something you find yourself usually despairing over more than anything as his overzealous attitude often results in misplaced readings of situations from his side. He's way too much in his attempts to protect you and prove to you why he is the best.

⭐​Under normal circumstances he is already someone who wants all of the attention so you can probably already imagine just how much worse this attitude will get if we throw an obsession into the mix. If jealousy would be a person, it would be Black Star. The very moment he notices that your eyes are not on him he is already getting riled up to the point where even objects can become the center of his short jealousy though at least an object can be swiftly thrown away. It's a bit more complicated if it is another person stealing your attention away from him and it'll always end with the other person and you both highly uncomfortable as Black Star isn't even trying to act mature about his jealousy. For someone who is delusional Black Star is shockingly aware of his surroundings though which is why he notices if someone's eyes are lingering on you for longer than one second which is yet another thing that instantly sets him off as he immediately assumes that they're planning to steal you away from him. Really, you can't take him anywhere without him causing a scene.

⭐​Frankly spoken, he is getting in many brawls due to his short temper and highly fueled jealousy. He belongs to the category of people who will challenge others for a fight on sight the moment he catches them staring at you or deems them to be people who may be a threat to you, even if it is for the petty reason that you just hold a nice and long conversation with them. Then there is obviously his self-proclaimed title as your hero which he inspires to live up to. That includes the small things where you really don't need his help which may even end up making everything worse but it also includes doing the smallest part required for being an assassin which is unaliving people. He's gotten into some serious arguments with Tsubaki because of this as she knows that he goes after people for unjustified reasons and refuses to assist him and transform for him. He's far too impulsive so in some instances he doesn't even consider what he is doing and just goes for it without a coherent strategy.

⭐​You have some sort of guarantee with his delusional thoughts that he won't kidnap you though that doesn't have to mean anything in the long run. There is still a major downside to this all though which is his previously mentioned clinginess. Long story in short, he just breaks into your house on multiple occasions. A day without you is something unimaginable for Black Star and if he would have it his way, he wouldn't even let the both of you be separated for more than an hour. He has to protect you after all, enemies could strike you whilst he is absent. In one way or another you are basically living together with Black Star and he, in fact, refers to the situation the two of you have been going on as just that. The both of you live together according to his thoughts and he gets visibly confused whenever you correct him sharply or shut him up before he can say such nonsense to someone else. In fact he even locks you up in your own house if something happens, though in his mind it is of course a house the two of you share.

⭐​There are some small revelations he tends to have at times when he immerses himself into the philosophy of the 'Path of the Warrior' that he wants to master as this requires a great level of self-awareness and the denial of following dark emotions yet those are eventually subdued one way or another by his delusions once again. Black Star wants to be praised by you all of the time and he will start showing off frequently as a way to silently let you know that he wants to hear you singing compliments about him. He tends to get very touchy, especially when he is feeling possessive or jealous and wants to let other people know that you belong to him. For some reason he loves when you let him piggyback you as he gets stupidly excited and starts running around, leaving you to cling to him tight or else you may fall off. Tsubaki is the only one who manages to keep you sane between Black Star's terrible antics as she tries her best to keep him on some sort of leash.

Nakatsukasa Tsubaki

◼️​Tsubaki is together with Maka one of the most mature people from this group, is in fact much more patient and forgiving than even Maka. She has no worries nor doubts as she manages to approach you the best without being overly cautious nor too pushy like her partner would be. Behind that kind smile is a deeply obsessed person though whose feelings can take on some concerning form if nothing is done. Tsubaki has a huge problem to deny her darling of anything nor can she bring herself to disagree with you or voice her opinion when it involves the hobbies and the things she likes. Instead of telling you how she honestly feels, most of the time she takes the path of adapting to everything you like or dislike until she completely absorbs your hobbies and deludes herself into thinking that she likes them too. It's very concering that she is willing to give up bits of her personality in order to please you but the truth is that she just loves you a bit too much and is willing to sacrifice parts of herself to maximise your happiness in the relationship.

◼️​That isn't to confirm that she is completely delusional though. Tsubaki is aware of what she is doing and she is able to understand that she should not mold herself to fit better to your side. Surely this isn't a normal nor healthy love with the way she is actively changing herself to fit you better yet there is a strange sense of happiness that arises whenever she manages to make you feel happy because she feigns interest in the stuff she usually wouldn't enjoy as much if it wouldn't be for you. If it's for you she thinks that it'll be fine and that it'll be worth it. After all you don't need to know that she goes against her own feelings in order to please you and to see you smile. Her willingness to help can be at times very unwarranted though, especially when she starts mothering you as her overprotective tendencies born out of kindness are subconsciously very strong. She instantly apologises when you voice your displeasure about it though, a habit you learn that she has.

◼️​Out of all of her friends she is the one who handles jealousy the best. Her very patient demeanor enables you to freely interact with people around you without having to worry about her reaction. In fact Tsubaki carries the mindset that she would like to befriend the people you spend a lot of time with and all of that without any malicious intent or hidden motives. Jealousy is a silent agony to her, one that she endures with pursed lips for as long as she can. Her heart is always aching but at the same time knowing that you are happy tickles her like warm rays of sunshine. Those conflicting sensations make her uneasy and slightly fidgety as she is unable to stay still whilst watching the scene unfold. It is in most cases after you and the other person have gone separate ways that she finds herself all over you all of a sudden and asking you question about everything that just happened. It is very likely that if she realises that you are very fond of the other person she will start picking up their hobbies and interests as well so that you can act just as happy around her as you did around them.

◼️​She is really the other side of the moon in comparison to her partner. Tsubaki does not possess such a hot-blooded temper like Black Star does even if her maternal instincts can be sometimes a bit too much for you. When you are around and upset, she always pours all of her attention in you. She fetches you little gifts to distract you from your feelings or cooks something for you all in hopes of cheering you up. Her intentions are mostly open-minded when she approaches someone but she always ends up giving them an unintentional heart attack because she underestimates her own stealth. In the perception of the other person she sometimes just quite literally pops up with a mellow expression on her face all whilst she wants to play the mediator and help to solve the conflict. There's no occasion I could think of where she would murder someone unless it is an emergency as she always prioritises staying by your side, especially after fights to ensure that your injuries are taken care of and that you get enough rest.

◼️​In the relationship the two of you have going on, Tsubaki is someone revolving around you as she actively shapes herself to be someone you will be happy and satisfied around. That means that you are one way or another the one in charge of everything whilst she goes along with it all. Her own wants are put aside as she puts your desires and wishes over her own. You'd never know if she would ever have the wish to move in with you until you are the one who starts asking her how she would feel about the thought of living together. Everything would be catered to your own ideas and images whilst she will go along with it all. She will let you choose the shape, size, location and colour of the house as well as the entire interior and furniture and only nod her head if you ask her what she thinks about it. Domestic life would be quite uncomplicated with her because she avoids all possible arguments by adjusting herself accordingly and doing everything possible to appease you.

◼️​Most of the time she would assume the role of the submissive part in this relationship as she does her best to always focus on your needs and your happiness. There are moments where she puts her foot down firmly and takes on a stubbornness that rivals the one of Black Star but only in dire situations and afterwards she is always rather flustered with her assertive behavior. She is easily embarrassed, especially if you are someone who is physically very affectionate but in reality she also really likes it when you touch her. Truth be told, Tsubaki is more lewd than she often lets on and even though she would be too flustered to admit that, you eventually find out about that other side of hers. She doesn't mind when you look at her naked body nor does she react quite as flustered when she walks in on you changing and being partially nude and she even suggests bathing together without bashing an eyelash which shocks you all the more as you did not expect her to have such a different side to her.

Death the Kid

​🔘​Kid is a finicky perfectionist who tends to get too caught up about the tiny details and this becomes quite apparent in his obsession. I wouldn't blame you for assuming that he would be quite overbearing to you due to his perfectionistic nature but it is actually the completely other way around. Kid builds incredibly high expectations for himself and he spends weeks plotting how to confess to you perfectly. Elizabeth and Patricia try to encourage him to just go for it but he reacts outrageous, ranting for minutes to both of them that someone as unique and special as you deserves nothing short of perfection from him. It is rather strange even to him though as he knows about his uptight behavior about the symmetry in life yet seems to not mind it as much when it comes to you. Sure, he has tons of ideas how to optimise your outfits and your looks to fit more into his aesthetic and can definitely become pushy with his advises very fast but he is not in literal agony even when you wear something that goes against all of his values.

​🔘​As tidy and balanced as he is, he definitely unleashes his obsession by keeping notebooks about you and he spends literal hours writing everything painstakingly down, mainly because he expects his own writing to look perfect and orderly and has a short meltdown when he spells something wrong or a letter doesn't fit in with the rest of what he has written. He reads those notebooks daily and memorises everything written down and if he should accidentally forget a detail about you, he'd spend a solid minute lamenting how ignorant and worthless he is to forget something about you. It is easy to forget that the Shinigami is still one who harbors a possessive nature as he thinks of his darling as a literal muse and refuses to let ugly people close to them, especially if they are ugly and asymmetrical in his eyes. You deserve so much better than that and whilst he is not as arrogant as to think that he has reached his desired level of perfection just yet, he does think that he admires and worships you more than anyone else.

​🔘​He has once proclaimed that he is far too mature to ever fall victim to a petty emotion such as jealousy and Elizabeth and Patricia could only exchange silent glances, already doubting his words. Kid is technically speaking a calmer person if you put him next to someone like Black Star yet it is the fact that he is low-key a worshipper for you that has him entering a disgusted indignation as soon as he spots someone asymmetrical daring to talk to the unpolished muse that is you. The longer he stares the worse it becomes as he notices all the imperfections on their face and clothes which only makes him want to pull at his hair. How dare they even step close to you without even properly checking their appearance?! He comes quite literally storming over, yellow eyes observing the other person outraged as his mask pulls into a disgusted grimace. There are two ways this can go. Either he starts ranting about how the other person could even dare to talk to you with such an unruly appearance or he quickly grabs your hands and drags you away whilst brooding and muttering under his breath about everything wrong with their look. He'll be afterwards vehement to deny his obvious jealousy though.

​🔘​Kid's fixation on balance and orderliness can also be found in his own morales. Every person has some evil within them, that even includes him and his own obsession which he is partially aware of, and order must always prevail and move forward. There is no pleasure that he takes in murdering others but if the evilness in someone's heart and the things that they have done to you overweight anything else, he shows no hesitation to execute someone. It's not always easy, especially if someone shows remorse but there are things he can't forgive even if the other person regrets it as death is sometimes the only way to repent. He is not above others though even if he is the son of the God of Death as he is suspectible to emotions such as anger and wrath and won't be able to always control them properly, leading in some cases to an outburst of rage that accidentally leads him to destroy things in his surroundings due to his recklessness.

​🔘​He has most likely a detailed plan of his routine and the life he plans to lead in the future and now that he has you, you are made part of that plan as well. Without a doubt would he plan to share a house with you later on but he wouldn't abduct you until all of his expectations are fulfilled which means until he feels like everything is completely perfect. He spends months designing everything, buying all the furniture and arranging everything only to re-arrange it over and over again until he finally feels like everything is perfect like he wants it to be and that is when he finally starts planning to invite you to live together with him which will also take him some time until he has cited every word perfectly in front of his mirror. He'd be devastated if you would turn him down though, desperate to find out what he did wrong and how he can redeem himself. He'd blackmail you if you deny him for too long as he would just snap eventually and use his position as a True Reaper to force you to live with him.

🔘​He's begging you to allow him to choose clothes for you as he believes that he could choose outfits for you that would suit you much better and draw out all of your beauty. Kid gets ridiculously offended the moment someone tries to downplay you as he sings praises about you every time the conversation shifts to you, going as far as threatening them to take those egregious words back and apologise. Oh, why does no one perceive you for the unique beauty that you are?? Asymmetry is something Kid only really tolerates with you but even then he busily finds himself begging you to let him help you with it all. He offers to cut your hair, to pluck your eyebrows and even to cut and manicure your nails and hands so that everything is balanced and symmetrical. Everything should be to your liking so he's on the ground if you even mention that something isn't quite to your preference, writhing on the floor as he starts exclaiming that he is ashamed of having disappointed you and it takes you a while to comfort him in his theatrical sorrow.

Elizabeth Thompson

🔶​Between the two sisters, Elizabeth is the one who would be the one partially in on everything concerning her obsession. It's quite safe to say that her inner turmoil spoils her mood quite a lot. She doesn't know how she should handle her feelings for you and doesn't want to risk other people finding out about it, especially not you. This results in her being quite moody and gruff as soon as merely your name is brought up in a conversation as she essentially tries to sell the tough girl attitude by acting like she doesn't really care about you. Unfortunately she fails quite often, especially if you look at her or get too close to her. Her heart starts pounding against her ribcage, her hands start to get sweaty and she starts stuttering as words fail her. All the embarrassment from those things only makes everything more intense and before you know it she's storming away whilst yelling incoherent words all whilst her burning face is buried in her hands. Do not even bring it up to her later on unless you want to risk irritating her.

🔶​Whilst she may still fumble around with her self-control and a total grasp of the situation, there is one thing Liz knows from a quite early stage on. That she doesn't really like the thought of you ending up with someone else. Keep in mind that there was a time before her and Patricia became the weapons of kid where she and her sister were essentially thugs stealing from others. A part of that mindset still exists somewhere within her and that selfishness and mentality to steal what she wants turns into possessive urges that won't allow her to rest easy and just watch back whilst every other damn jerk could try to get to you. As previously mentioned, she knows that what she is doing is wrong and she really hates herself sometimes for the way she behaves because of her feelings but she has no control over it at times. Liz is fully committed to team up with her sister and scare and frighten people who get on your nerves though or who threaten you in another way. No one's going to mess with you if she can put a stop to it.

🔶​Her patience is tested in new ways she never thought would be possible even despite all the antics Kid showcases. She really wants to act like she is more cool-headed than that but she just can't bite her tongue and lash out a bit when it becomes too much for her. Whether she makes some cynical comments or assumes a facade she would have showed in the past on the streets when someone starts getting too confident with you, she refuses to elaborate on her behavior later on. No,she was not jealous back then. You're just imagining things right now. Her younger sister Patty probably thinks she is doing her a favor by spying on you because she knows of her sister's interest in you and always telling her when there is someone else who seems to be rather fond of you or the other way around but it really only serves to make things harder to hide for Liz. She can never tell if Patty has perhaps read the situation wrong or not but she is ultimately too paranoid to ignore it and always ends up checking the situation out herself. Most of the time she realises that there is nothing going on but it is the chance that her sister might be right the next time that keeps her on edge.

🔶​She fully reverts to the life of a thug whenever she has to scare someone. As much awareness as Liz may have about her current predicament, for some reason she has never had much problems threatening and intimidating other people. Perhaps that is because most of the time she goes after people who have done something shitty which affected you. Patty always insists on tagging along and even if Liz tells her to stay out of it, her sister ends up following her nine out of ten times anyways and helps Liz to tell with any asshole that thought that they could mess with you and get away with it. She just starts bullying the other person, sneering at the person and insulting them whilst cornering somewhere together with Patty who joins Liz. She starts working on her hand-to-hand combat as well because she knows that there are times where she won't be able to fight with Patty and whilst she is skilled enough to beat up ordinary people, she needs to get stronger by herself. It isn't like she fights fair though, she's grown up on the streets after all. Think smart, not hard.

🔶​As new as everything is for her and as much as she dislikes her own behavior at times, at least she is quite laid-back when it comes to the topic of living together. She isn't as desperate as someone like Kid would be and she doesn't obsess about it like he would do either. This is a step she is willing to take at a slow tempo because as long as she can spend enough time with you, she isn't going to be clingy. Partially she doesn't want you two to move in too soon is also because she is so messy. She didn't grow up in a normal household after all and she has no sense of order differently from Kid. She can't even properly cook and clean and is far too embarrassed to admit that to you. She should at least be decent enough to learn the basics before considering the idea. She knows she wouldn't have the best capabilities to care for someone for a long period of time. Her moody behavior does lead her to be irrational at times in which case it isn't unlikely that she uses sleeping powder on you or knocks you out to drag you somewhere to lock you away, mostly when she thinks that it's too dangerous for you but you're too stubborn to listen.

🔶​Liz lays down her pride and eventually asks Tsubaki if she could teach her how to cook because she knows that you enjoy the woman's cooking and she feels low-key jealous about it. Liz is the one with the obsession here yet at times she finds herself more concerned with Patty's behavior because her younger sister complies with everything she does far too easily without stopping to question it. Patty has always been her partner in crime and it isn't any different even now as she always assists and helps Liz with everything, even ganging up with her to scare people who thought that they could make you cry. Normally she would like to be seen as a cool and mature woman by you but all of that shatters the moment the topic of paranormal things gets brought up in which case she abandons her tough mask entirely and is clutching onto you for dear life. Couple outfits are going to be a thing the moment the two of you are in a relationship and though she still tries to act mature, secretly she cares a lot about it.

Patricia Thompson

🔸​Patricia could not be more different from her sister as she acts a lot like a child and always keeps a cheerful and happy demeanor on her. This childish mindset of her does not allow her to even comprehend her own feelings for a good while whilst still acting on them nevertheless. Patty knows that she feels always happy when she is around you and for that she constantly seeks you out. The girl is extremely clingy and gets upset and mad when she can't find you to the point of throwing a tantrum, though her mood instantly brightens when she finally finds you. Due to her inabilities to even fully understand her own emotions she is definitely delusional. She doesn't give the attachment she feels for you too much thoughts and often tells you cheerfully to do the same. You think too much and enjoy too little. Just do it like her and enjoy life and you'll be just as jolly as she is always when she has you with her...

🔸​Just like Liz she is also quite possessive because she is not unfamiliar to the concept of stealing from other people. Though there is no need for her anymore to steal from others to ensure her and her sister's survival, those possessive feelings fully resurface now that you are in her life. She sees it all in a quite uncomplicated manner though as she essentially already calls you "hers" as she assumes that with the amount of time she spends with you, she has already claimed you as hers. Very visibly confused when you hastily explain to her that this doesn't work as simply as you are not an object that belongs to whoever possesses it before she starts pouting and asks you what she would have to do so that you would be officially hers. If you give her a detailed answer she would probably just kiss you and ask you if you now belong to her. She has no shame and whether that is because she doesn't concern herself with thinking too much or if she just thinks that because the two of you are a couple she doesn't have to be ashamed aside, her attitude will be a real problem for you and the people around you.

🔸Very much like a child would get jealous and upset if someone would take their most valued thing away from them, Patty would react in a similar way. You're unable to ignore her for more than a few seconds as she will do her everything to make you aware of her again. She prods your cheeks, tugs at your clothes or shoves herself in front of you and calls your name repeatedly so that you turn your attention to her again. She is being a nuisance but you know at one point that trying to lose her won't end well. For someone with such a simple-minded personality, Patty can get scary very quickly, especially if it is the other person telling her that she is being noisy and annoying. The violent threats which leave her lips so effortlessly when she turns around with that same jolly grin on her face are concerning and disturbing, especially once she gives them an almost condescending glare and tells them that they are the one in the way because you are already her person.

🔸​Between Liz and her, Patty is much more prone to violence. She is low-key a bit unhinged and doesn't shy away from threatening others. Whether someone has made you cry or because she doesn't like how they have been stealing you away from her for too long, every word will be spoken with the same childish grin which only makes her more terrifying in such situations. She doesn't even lie about it either as she admits openly that she is the reason why someone is suddenly too scared to get closer to you, though in her opinion threatening others isn't anything that should be of concern as it was a daily occurence in her past. That nefarious grin is still preferable to the insane anger that can possess her when she fully loses her temper and truly returns into a violent criminal that won't even bat her eyelashes whilst casually shooting someone or breaking their bones. Ironically enough she would be one of the most dangerous people for others as she doesn't consider the true horror of her actions that much.

🔸​The two of you will stay together for the rest of your lives and that is final. She doesn't care about what you have to say about that as in most cases rejections enter her ear before leaving through her other. Anyone else who tries to explain to her that she is in the wrong and that she should respect your decision is getting that truly frightening grin from her as they don't have any business to tell her what to do and what not to do. I wouldn't put it above her that she may have tried to break into your own house in the past. She knows where you live because she so frequently follows you and once she knows where your house is located, she constantly pops up and knocks on your door whilst telling you cheerfully to let her inside. You feel like the protagonist of a horror movie whenever her knocks turn more persistent and violent all whilst her happy voice rings through the air with the same request to open the door and let her inside because she wants to see you. Luckily Liz has often retrieved her and apologised to you through the door.

🔸​She literally acts like you are the incarnation of Einstein whenever you tell her something she didn't know before. You have to consider that her and her sister were abandoned on the streets and for that never received a proper education so to her you are extremely intelligent as you know so much more than she does. Patty has insisted for you to teach her the most basic stuff at times and you had no choice but to agree as rejections are always useless with her though she can barely concentrate on what you tell her as soon as the two of you sit down. She can't sit still nor can she remain silent for a long time as she is far too fidgety and always wants to do something with you. She can be incredibly insensitive to your own emotions at times due to not being able to read the situation properly and even if she tries to help you in her own ways, she makes it all worse for you but won't leave you alone anyways.

[ellieluvr420]

Friends? Never. Pt.7 (Ellie Williams x reader)

SYNOPSIS: You and Ellie had been bitter enemies for years now but before that you were best friends. You had always planned to be roommates one day but when that becomes a reality the situation isn't exactly how you both imagined it.

SMUT mdni, brief mention of attempted SA, story-typical violence

It had been two weeks since Ellie had come back from patrol injured, Maria gave you leave so you could take care of her and it had been a nightmare for the full fourteen days, Ellie never once making life easy for you and proving herself to be the worst patient in all of history. Nevertheless, you still managed to get through it and today was your first day back on patrol. If you said you weren’t nervous you would be lying and if you said you were nervous solely because of the attack two weeks ago you would also be lying. You had been up all-night pacing and fretting about being away from Ellie for a whole day, you were so angry that in the space of two weeks you had become dependent on her company but there was nothing you could do to rationalise with yourself, so you paced, and you bit the skin around your nails raw and possibly pulled a couple clumps of hair out, you had yet to look in the mirror and assess the damage but when you walked into Ellie’s room where she was sitting eating breakfast, you knew it was bad. 

“Why do you look like that?” 

“Like what?” 

“Bad.” 

“Wow thanks.” 

“Oh come on you know what I mean.” As you sit on the bed and lean in to peck her lips, she holds your face close to hers to whisper: “You always look beautiful, but you don’t look well.” She kisses you once again and leans her forehead on yours as you smile bittersweetly at each other. 

Since your first kiss you had spent every second together, the little bubble surrounding you both was tinted pink and the second you walk out the front door for patrol you know the feeling will be ripped away from you. You had spent every night watching films, making dinner together once Ellie was mobile again and you had even started taking it in turns reading your book to each other. The new definition of your relationship was undecided but the air around you both was heavy with want. You had been holding yourself back because of Ellie’s condition and Ellie had been holding herself back because the irrational fear that she would somehow infect you if you had sex was at the forefront of her mind, sometimes she’d even hesitate to kiss you before remembering that it was okay. Things were calm and quiet, and you almost forgot the real world, almost. 

“I’m fine El, I just didn’t sleep much last night.” 

“Then you shouldn’t be going on patrol, you won’t be able to focus, tell Maria you can’t.” 

“Okay so I tell Maria I can’t patrol because I’m tired, how do you think she’ll react?” 

“... Okay fair enough but I don’t like it.” 

“You and me both.” You gaze at her face that had the last remnants of some green and brown bruises as well as the stitched cut across her freckled cheeks that was healing well as you cup her cheek. She takes your hand in hers and kisses at your knuckles before tightening her grip and holding your fingers for her to inspect. “Wait, No Ellie.” 

“I fucking knew it you liar, you’ve bitten them raw. Are they sore?” You snatch your hand away from her with a shameful look on your face as you avoid eye contact. 

“No they’re fine. And I’m fine, I gotta go though so I’ll see you later.” 

“What time will you be back?” 

“Five-ish.” You both go quiet as the memory of that day dawns on each of you, you watch as panic flashes across her face. “Hey, it’s going to be okay, there’s a big group of us going today and we’re sticking together. They managed to get us walkie’s somehow, so we’ll be able to stay in touch with each other and Jackson, okay?” 

“Okay.” She sighs and you kiss her check before walking to the door. “Be safe.” You look back at her and flash a solemn smile. 

“Always.” You keep walking without looking back again for fear that if you did you would never leave, so you don’t look back until you’re on Greg and riding out of Jackson to your first checkpoint. 

“Haven’t seen you in a while.” Lacey smiled at you. You were often on patrol with her, so you had become good friends. Her black curly hair was pulled up into a messy bun and her brown eyes sparkled with a hint of curiosity. Lacey was beautiful with her glowing deep-brown skin that only looked more heavenly in the sunlight that was beating down on you all. The first thing you noticed about her was her beauty but as you got to know her you found she was strong and kind. She was the first person you told about your sexuality and she was the first person after Maria that you told about your parents kicking you out.  

“Yeah, I got given leave because my roommate got really hurt in the attack the other week, so I was taking care of her.” 

“You were taking care of Ellie; I would have loved to have been a fly on the wall for that.” 

“How do you know I live with Ellie?” You had barely seen Lacey since moving in with Ellie because of everything that’s happened so you hadn’t had a chance to tell her, for a second you wondered if you would have told her even if you had seen her, but you push the thought away before you let it distract you. 

“Everyone knows.” 

“What?” 

“Oh come on, you two are sworn enemies and now you live together, everyone’s a little interested on what that’s like. So, fill me in, is she secretly buried in the backyard right now?” She grins at you playfully as you shake your head and chuckle. 

“Well, um, she’s not dead yet.” You choke out a small laugh and immediately feel consumed with guilt as Lacey laughs with you. You don’t know why you said that. What you wanted to say is it’s been the best thing that’s ever happened to you, but your mouth wasn’t connected to your brain. 

You had been to two out of four checkpoints and you were approaching your third now, a small holiday town with large cabins and a couple shops and bars, whenever you came here you always tried to imagine what it was like before the outbreak but your mind can never conjure up a picture and it frustrates you more each time. The actual checkpoint is one of the furthest cabins from the entrance to the town, so you check each building you pass on your way to it. There were seven of you today and each person seemed more on edge than the next but other than a couple stragglers you had been okay so far. You felt stupid for relaxing a little the second one of your men went down and bullets started raining down on your group. 

“FIND COVER NOW!” You scream to the rest of them and as you sprint past Finn lying dead on the floor something inside you flips and you’re no longer consciously acting, all your movements were controlled by the need to get back home to Ellie safely as you dived into the first cabin on your left. Immediately you pull your handgun out and check your pocket to catalogue how much ammo you had. You quickly but carefully check each room downstairs. If you had been calm and collected you would have went upstairs first knowing that you’re more likely to find someone there than downstairs, but you aren’t calm and collected, you’re panicked and running entirely on adrenaline. You hadn’t realised how easy it was for life to end, how quick, you had always pushed the thought of death away knowing it was all too possible in the hostile world you lived in, so you chose to stay ignorant to reality. You were content with your decision, until you hear the creak of a floorboard behind you. Without a second thought you spun round firing your gun twice, you watch as the figure that you had shot at dove towards you showing you his grisly face. You fire again but he’s too quick, slamming you down to the ground and climbing on top of you, pinning you down. You glance at your gun that had been hit out of your hand and was now sitting in the corner of the room, mocking you. He smiles like the cheshire cat as he runs a knife down your face before reaching for the walkie talkie he had attached to his hip. 

“Boys come to number 7, I’ve got a pretty one.” He speaks into the walkie talkie before turning his attention back to you. “I’m gonna enjoy this.” He begins reaching to unbuckle his belt and your body turns cold. 

Get home to Ellie. 

You lean up and smash your head into his and as he groans with a disoriented expression, you deliver a hard punch straight to his nose.  

Get home to Ellie. 

You push him off you and scramble away as quick as you can but his hand latches onto your ankle, you let him pull you closer and then kick him hard in the face which allows you to wriggle free again. 

Get home to Ellie. 

This time you manage to make it to your gun, immediately shooting him straight in the foot. He bellows out as he goes to the ground and you watch as you grab your walkie talkie. 

“Come to number 7, be discreet and be ready, there’s a group of them and they’re all coming here. I’ve got one already.” You walk over to the now writhing man and jam the gun into his stomach. “WHO ARE YOU?!” You screech out. His silence angers you more so you slam the base of your gun down onto his temple. “Start talking or I break your arm next.” 

“I’d like to see you try.” He chuckles and the arrogance sets something off inside you, in one swift motion you hold his right arm up, his dominant one you had noticed, and stomp down onto it until you hear a loud crack and see the creamy white of his bone poking through his upper arm. The scream he lets out is inhumane, but it was music to your ears. 

“You’ve got a minute or I break the other one too.” 

“FINE, fine, we spotted your town a couple days ago, we were gonna take you guys as hostages to make them trade us for supplies.” 

“Oh so you’re raider scum.” 

“We’re survivors just like you, you ain’t better than us just because you live in your fancy, cosy town.” 

“If you wanted supplies, you could’ve just approached the walls, we help anyone that needs it. That’s why we’re better than you.” As you finish speaking Lacey burst through the door dragging an unconscious man by his foot, she brings him to be in line with the man before you and drops his foot. The rest of your team follow, bringing in three more guys between them. “Two of you go find stuff to tie them up with.” You look back at your group that were waiting eagerly for what you next had to say. There was no leader in patrol groups, but they were listening to you like you were. 

“How did you find us?” You turn your attention back to the men sat before you, the conscious ones each exchange looks. You slam your boot-clad foot into one of the men brought in by your team. 

“Look at me. How did you find us?” 

“People talk, pretty town like yours, shit like that makes the rounds.” One of them pipes up. He’s clutching his side, and you notice the blood seeping from between his fingers, you walk over to him so you’re towering over his hunched form. 

“What people?” 

“Met a girl and her friends, said they’re looking for a guy who lives there but they don’t know where it is, only that it's in Wyoming. They’re on their way too but we move faster than most, we just wanted supplies.” 

“Did she say the name of the guy she’s looking for?” 

“Nope.” Your face turns dark as you raise your gun to his head and shoot him in a split second, the thump of him hitting the floor coincides with Lacey and Raphael coming back into the room with all the stuff they found. They all look at you as though you have two heads. 

“He was bleeding out, would’ve been deadweight.” They nod and start getting to work tying the rest up. They go to tie their feet, but you stop them. “We’re taking them with us. Maria’s gonna want to interrogate them about this. I’m gonna radio Maria and tell her we’re bringing back hostages. The rest of you watch them, they move you shoot but not to kill, got it?” They all nod, and you walk to the next room along to contact Maria. 

“We’re heading back now, we’re at Mountain Valley, we got ambushed by raiders and we’re getting ready to transport them now, they’re talking about a group that are on their way to Jackson looking for someone, figured you’d want to talk to them. We had one casualty, Finn, he went quick.” Your voice trembles but you take a deep breath to hold it together. 

“Okay, well done, he shouldn’t have died but six is better than none, don’t beat yourself up, it’s not your fault.” Her bluntness had always been refreshing but now it was causing bile to rise up your body, you push the feeling down and concentrate on replying. 

“I’ll see you at the gates.” You can’t acknowledge what Maria said, it doesn’t feel right, so you focus on getting the raiders ready to take back to Jackson. You all load them onto your horses, tying them to the reins and then climb onto your horses also. Lucas volunteered to take Finn on his horse so his family could say goodbye and he could be buried in Jackson. You, Ben, Mick and Lacey each have a raider on your horse, so you climb on behind them and jam your guns into their backs as a warning. The ride back to Jackson went by in a flash and before you know it, you’re approaching the slowly opening gates of home. 

Ellie was standing at the gates of Jackson, when she walked, or limped, over there it was 4 PM, she knew she’d likely be waiting for some time, but she couldn’t sit at home waiting for you to come back any longer. She finally understood your reaction to her coming home late because you weren’t even due back yet and her anxiety was the worst it had ever been. She figured waiting at the gates would be better than waiting at home but as she approached the gates and saw Maria standing there as well as a large group of guards, she felt uneasy. The atmosphere was calm but foreboding and she couldn’t understand why there were so many guards just standing and waiting. She walked over to Maria who looked stunned even before she was faced with Ellie who she wasn’t expecting to be out of bed let alone at the gates.  

“Maria, what’s going on?” 

“They got ambushed by raiders, the scumbags got Finn, but they managed to take them as hostages, they’re due to be back soon.” 

“Why are they bringing them back?” 

“She didn’t say.” 

“You spoke to her?” 

“Yes Ellie, she’s fine.” Ellie felt her cheeks flush at Maria’s obvious awareness of the situation between the both of you, but the thought is wiped from her mind when she hears yells to open the gates. She moves as quickly as she can towards the crowd of people, mimicking your movements two weeks prior, shoving and pushing past people to get to the front. She watches as you ride in on Greg with a man hunched over in front of you, she makes no attempt to move, just watching the scene play out before her. 

Two guards walk over to you as you climb off Greg and reach up to cut his ties to the reins with your knife before yanking him down where he lands on the ground with a thud and an ear-piercing screech. “You bitch.” She hears him spit out and she can’t contain the small chuckle that leaves her lips when you kick him once on the arm he was already clutching. He writhes and cries and as he turns, she sees the white of his bone protruding from his arm. She’s watching intently as she surveys the damage done to him until she notices your eyes on her. 

You weren’t expecting Ellie to be at the gate, especially not since you were early but the sight of her standing there staring back at you releases all the tension in your body. You were home, with Ellie, everything would be okay. You go to start walking over to her but Maria steps in your way putting a hand on your shoulder. “I need to speak with you.” 

“Wait- Can I-” 

“Now. Let’s go.” She pulls you by your arm and as you catch a glimpse of Ellie over your shoulder you mouth ‘I’m sorry’ at her before letting Maria yank you away from the crowd. 

Ellie watched Maria dragging you away and her guard immediately went back up again as she subtly started to follow you both. You walk round a corner, out of sight, and she darts to the edge of the building that would shield her from yours and Maria’s sight as she focuses on trying to listen to your conversation while wincing from the sudden movement. 

“Not a word of this to anyone. Seriously, not Ellie, no one.” 

“Alright I got it. Are you worried?” 

“I haven’t decided yet.” 

“Who do you think they’re looking for?” 

“I don’t know, do you think they’re not letting on everything they know?” 

“Maybe, I’m not sure.” 

“Well we’ll find out won’t we.” Ellie panicked as she heard footsteps coming her way, she once again darts round the other corner of the building so she’s out of sight of whoever is about to walk past and as she watches Maria storm away she creeps back round the building until she’s met with you, standing staring at the floor as you bit at the skin around your nails. 

“Are you okay?” You jump but relax as you see it’s Ellie approaching you. 

“Yeah, hi, I’m okay.” She pulls you into a hug that neither of you feel ready to leave so she speaks into your shoulder. 

“What the fuck happened?” 

“Fucking raiders.” Your voice is muffled by her chest but she can understand you fine.  

“Sorry about Finn. You know it’s not your fault right?” 

“Yeah I know.” You were lying but it was easier to lie than have this conversation right now. 

“Why’d you bring them back?” 

“Thought Maria should decide what to do with them.” You both know you’re lying but she leaves it for the moment. 

“Come on, let’s go home.” 

“I actually had a better idea.” You pull away from her with a cheeky smirk as she cocks an eyebrow at your tone. 

You’re sat in a booth with Ellie at the Tipsy Bison nursing your fifth drink of the night, you had been there for an hour and a half. You recognise the first few notes of one of your favourite songs: ecstasy by the crooked stills, and you gasp before jumping up and standing in front of Ellie. “We have to dance to this.” 

“I’m good.” 

“That wasn’t a question.” You grab her hand and gently but firmly pull her up and onto the dancefloor with you. Despite her reluctance her hands immediately find their place at your waist, sqeezing a little, as you begin to sway to the slow song together. You arms that are round her neck pull her closer to you until your bodies are pressed together and your head is resting on her shoulder. 

Ellie feels her cheeks redden as she realises you two are in public and dancing together, so closely too, but as she looks up, she breathes a sigh of relief that no one’s eyes are on you both. It wasn’t that she wanted it to be a secret but she felt like she was under a magnifying glass whenever she was out and now was no different. She notices you shifting until your face is back in front of hers where she meets your lidded eyes. You’re drunk and she knows that so she had only had one drink to make sure she could watch you, she wanted to let you blow off some steam but the thought of being drunk like you were now unsettled her. Her eyes widen as you lean in but they shut as she relaxes into the kiss. You lick at her bottom lip and she opens her mouth so her tongue can collide with yours and the kiss deepens as you cock your head to the side slightly and push your body impossibly closer to hers. As you both pull away she looks at you with a giddy expression, she hated being the centre of attention but knowing that you just kissed her in front of everyone here makes her beam with pride, until she notices your eyes aren’t meeting hers, they’re fixed over her shoulder and your eyebrows were scrunched together in a cruel scowl. She glances over her shoulder and when she sees your parents standing there both red with scowls that matched yours she realised you kissing her in front of everyone had nothing to do with her. You were using her to piss off your parents and she felt more hurt than she had two weeks ago after the attack from the horde. 

“Are you fucking serious?” She pulls away from you leaving almost a foot of space between you both.  

“What?” You feign ignorance, she shakes her head and chuckles drly before storming away from you and out of the bar. 

“Ellie, wait up! What the fuck is your problem?” You slur as you chase after her, despite the limp she was moving impressively quickly. As you catch up to her she spins around with fire in her eyes. 

“YOU! You’re my fucking problem.” You stand completely taken back by her rage as she begins walking off again, the guilt consumes you in an instant as you begin trailing behind her, keeping your distance, knowing you had been caught. It wasn’t like you only kissed her because your parents were watching but that fact doesn’t make what you did any less awful. The walk was slow and long despite Ellie storming as fast as her injured body would take her and when she reaches the house and enters she slams the door behind her, right in your face. You enter cautiously and close the door behind you quietly as you see her stomping up the stairs. You flinch as you hear her bedroom door slam and prepare yourself for the worst as you turn the doorknob and shamefully slip through the door. “Get out.” 

“No, let me explain.” 

“Get out.” 

“No Ellie, just listen please.” She moves towards you at lightning speed and pushes you against the wall holding you there, she was rough but she wasn’t trying to hurt you. Her breathing was deep and fast as she stared you down with dark eyes. Neither of you spoke, you didn’t know what to say and all Ellie wanted to do was scream so you both stayed silent and frozen in your places. She takes in the sight of you hungrily as her mind is is contemplating her next move. Just looking at you makes her angry but as she takes in your appearance, something else takes over. 

She smashes her lips into yours so hard it almost hurt as your teeth clash together and her tongue prods at your lower lip. Her hand finds its place around your neck and squeezes until you gasp so she can invade your mouth with her tongue, her hand remains wrapped around your neck squeezing more gently this time as you moan into her mouth. She snaps away from you and pulls you away from the wall before pushing you down onto the bed face first, you go to flip over to face her but her knee over the arch of your back stops you. “That was fucked up.” 

“I know Ellie, I’m sorry.” 

“Shut up.” She grabs a handful of your ass and kneads at the flesh. You hadn’t seen this side of Ellie, even when you would bicker day in and out, she still seemed like Ellie. This wasn’t Ellie. You feel her knee leave your back but you don’t move, afraid that if you anger her more she’ll leave you pent up and frustrated. You just watch as she looks down at you taking in your body from this angle before hooking her hands round the waistband of your trousers and underwear, she meets your eyes and for a second you see your Ellie in there. “You wanna do this?” 

“Please.” 

“You’re gonna regret that.” She yanks everything down in one swoop leaving you completely bare from the waist down. She grabs your hips and yanks them up until you knees bend to support the new position. You feel vulnerable knowing she can see everything right now but you feel safe regardless as you watch her eye your heat with a lick of her lips.  

You gasp and jolt as you feel her rubbing two fingers up and down your slit gathering your slick and spreading it all around. Her free hand holds you in place with a bruising grip on your hip as she surveys your face to check you’re okay. She was so, so angry at you but the thought of hurting you almost made her stop for a second, she only didn’t because of the quiet whine that left your lips as you wiggled your hips at her slightly trying to signal what you need. 

“Ask for it or you’re not getting it.” You roll your eyes before sighing and accepting defeat on this one occasion knowing that if there was ever a time to not hit her with a snarky rebuttal, now was the time. 

“Please fuck me, Ellie.” Your words set something off inside her and she immediately plunged two of her long fingers inside you as the other hand left your hip to rub tight circles harshly on your throbbing clit. You groan at the sudden intrusion as you push back, your needy hole sucking her fingers in even deeper as you shudder. Her hands were bigger than yours so her fingers reached places you never had and the feeling had your eyes rolling back in your head. She curled her fingers to abuse your sweet spot as her assault on your core only quickened, your body was on fire as you trembled and moaned. “Oh fuck Ellie, please... keep going.” You can barely get the words out through bated breaths and a mixture of groans and moans as you clamp your eyes shut focusing on chasing your high that was racing at you like lightning. “I’m so close oh my god.” As quick as your release approached, it dwindled away as Ellie removed her fingers from you and flipped you over. 

She could barely feel the achey pain in her body as she stared down at the prickly expression on your face. You open your mouth to question her but before you can she slips her fingers that were shiny from your arousal into your mouth, making you gag as she pushes them in to the knuckles.  

“Didn’t I tell you to shut up?” She uses her hand in your mouth to manoeuvre your head into a nod that she can’t help but smile at. It was the first time you had seen her smile since you started dancing at the bar so the sight warmed you until her face dropped once again. With her free hand she yanked down her bottoms in the same fashion she did yours before climbing on top of one of your thighs to slot you both together at the hips. She brings the thigh she isn’t straddling to rest over her shoulder as she bites at your calf, you wince at the sting, but the pain is immediately replaced by pleasure as she begins to grind herself down onto you, hard and fast. Her face screws up as her eyes clamp shut ignoring the way yours were staring holes into her as she chased her high. Your moans became muffled to her as she uses you to get herself off. You’re seeing stars as her hips begin to stutter in their rhythm but once again, the feeling goes as quick as it came as she finishes with a guttural groan and stills her hips on yours.  

“No, no, no.” You whine to yourself as you throw your head back in frustration until you feel her climb off you and yank you up from the bed so you’re standing in front of her. She doesn’t wait before she spins you around and starts walking you backwards to the door. As you realise what she’s doing panic takes over and you wrap your arms around her in a death grip as you plead with her. “No, please Ellie. Come on, let’s talk. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” She reaches the still open door from earlier and pushes you off her past the doorframe. She slams the door in your face before she can even see you stagger from the force of her push. 

You consider storming back in there but decide now wasn’t the time before dragging yourself to your room where you shut the door and immediately curl up on your bed as you pull the covers over yourself. You hug your knees tightly to your chest as the tears begin to fall. You had sex with Ellie, for the first time, and she kicked you out afterwards without a second thought. You weren’t angry, you understood why she did it, but it didn’t hurt any less. 

You fall asleep still hugging yourself tightly trying to pretend it’s Ellie’s who’s embracing you and that you aren’t alone right now. But you are. 

tags: @emiliabby @readbydayana @radioheadfan699

[areyouwell]

Heliophobia

Noun: An extreme and irrational fear of light. Children or adults with heliophobia experience an extreme aversion to sunlight and may seek darkness in response.

Ch.8

Ch.7, Ch.6, Ch.5.5, Ch.5, Ch.4, Ch.3, Ch.2, Ch.1 <–

Pairing: Logan Howlett x F!Mutant!Reader

Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence

Word Count: 15.8K

A/N: bejeezus this was a tough one to get through, crazy how i thought i might be able to fit these last two chapter in one it would have been like 30k words... insane behaviour from me. also i really like writing horror scenes :D

Taglist: @badbishsblog @reidsworld @idioticstar @toogaytofunctiondangit @ghostyv @wolviesgirl @over-bi-the-wayside @justice4billiam @holyhumorliteraturelight @cxptainbuck @sseleniaa @sadslasher13 @yallgotkik @whyamistillontumbler @maddiedinosaur @bethexo07 @pwpwppeepeoor @y08h

“Let me OUT!” Logan cringed as what he assumed was your foot collided with the oak door, thumping against the abused wood. You’d been at this ever since you’d woken up, throwing various objects at the door only for it to remain sealed shut, only succeeding in creating some kind of shattered glass trap after pelting a vase at the panels. Logan sighed heavily, checking his watch. Three hours. You’d been furiously screaming for three hours, trying every fucking trick in the book to get him or anyone else to open the door. Scott had to hold him back when you pretended to be hurt, whimpering and gasping behind the door as if you’d broken a bone. Only to scream in pure, unbridled rage when you realised it hadn’t worked. 

Devious motherfucker. 

You weren’t the only one either. They had Erin held in another room, only she was taking her isolation much better. It was the safest option whilst Charles worked on restoring each subject’s memories. They’d started with Morgana, and Logan didn’t think he’d ever be able to shake the image of crimson blood leaking from every orifice of that girl’s face as she writhed on the floor from his head. But the shift in personality hadn’t been too great. She was still pretty relaxed and unserious, but now she was a lot quieter. Subdued. Like she’d had the hope beaten out of her. 

It fucking terrified him. How much would you change after Charles restored your memories? Would you still smile the same? Laugh the same? Would you still want to be around him? With him?

Would you still love him?

Logan sighed. It was selfish of him, for that to be his most pressing concern, but he didn’t know what he’d do if, after all this, you never looked at him again. Not in the same way. His heart constricted in his chest, dread pooling in his gut. He needed to entertain these scenarios. He needed to prepare for every eventuality. Even if it broke him apart.

“She still at it?”

He’d been too wrapped up in his head to register the light footsteps from down the hall, curly red hair bouncing at Morgana’s shoulders as she approached with two cups of coffee. She’d cleaned herself up since her ordeal, even adding winged eyeliner on either side of her scarlet eyes. Logan bristled slightly, though he truly didn’t mean it. Instinct had his muscles tensing and his gaze narrowing, the night he lost you playing in his mind’s eye, Morgana’s blank expression as she slowed his heartbeat, her shining irises.

But he made himself relax. She’d proven herself a friend to you, her concern touching a part of him that recognised he could trust her with you. Releasing a breath, Logan nodded in answer to her question. “Yeah… Hasn’t stopped.” He tried in vain to keep the defeat from his voice, gratefully taking the coffee Morgana held out to him. “How’s the other one?”

“Erin? She’s… hollow, I guess. One of our friends we’d left behind, she was kinda seeing him but also kinda not. It was complicated between them…” Morgana slid down the wall to sit on the floor, crossing her legs at the knee. Logan joined her, exhaling as he took the weight off his feet. 

The silence wasn’t exactly comfortable, and Logan was acutely aware of Morgana’s guilt. Having her memories restored, she now knew she played a critical role in your capture, and if it wasn’t for her, none of this would have happened. She opened her mouth to speak, but Logan beat her to it. 

“Don’t. You don’t gotta apologise. You didn’t know what you were doin’.” An apology would mean nothing to him. Sure, she’d aided your capture, but she’d also helped your escape, and monitored your blood pressure on the flight back to the mansion. She’d taken care of you where Logan couldn’t, and he was grateful for that. 

Morgana simply nodded silently, unshed tears shining in her eyes as she tried to smile. “Yeah, I know. Doesn’t make remembering any easier though…” she paused, fiddling with the handle of her mug. “Don’t do this to her.”

Logan blinked. “What’dya mean?” He didn’t mean to growl, and felt a little bad when the girl tensed slightly, before taking a deep breath.

“Don’t do this. There’s shit Kreva did that wasn’t documented, Logan. Special assignments, he called them. She took the brunt of it, every fucking time,” Morgana took a breath, angrily wiping at a disobedient tear sliding down her face. Logan’s stomach hollowed. He thought everything was detailed in the file. He thought he knew everything other than the last two months… “She wanted to protect us. Where the rest of us would fight to get away, she’d fight to go. It was her way of making sure we were safe, or I guess, as safe as we could be.” Morgana drew her knees up to her chest, her arms hugging around her shins. 

He couldn’t breathe, the steel lump in his throat clogging his airways, making oxygen rare. Why did you always have to be a fucking martyr? Why did you always have to put yourself last? Did you not know how important you were? How loved you were? Did you not realise how much it fucking hurt to see you in pain? And now he knew he wasn’t the only one, Morgana’s tears solidifying the impact you made on her, too. “What happened?” he asked a little shakily, bracing himself for whatever horrors he was about to hear.

Morgana clenched her jaw, her eyes closing against the nightmarish memories of her own past. “Field experiments. No point in creating an army if you don’t know how effective they’d be, right? I… I only did a few, but they were the shit you’d read in hidden government documents, ya know? Send us to war-torn countries to tear apart their refugee camps and hospitals. Infiltrate rebellions and silence their leaders before the spark of change could fan into a flame. 

“And nobody was better than Phantom. Entire towns crumbled to dust in a night. Politicians were brought to their knees with nothing but a flick of her wrist. She was an instrument of chaos, Logan. Of death. It’s why Kreva fought so fucking hard to get her back. She was a scalpel he used to surgically remove anything he deemed a threat to his advances,” Morgana’s voice trembled slightly, her eyes rising from the ground to meet his. “You get it now? Remembering all that… what she was forced to do, the acts she was forced to perform, it would destroy her.”

Logan didn’t know what to do. Didn’t know what to think. None of that had been detailed in the file. How many layers of torment existed? How many secrets did he need to uncover to truly understand what you were put through? Was the cost of getting you back greater than the cost of leaving you untouched? If what Morgana said was true, would you even want to remember? You did before, but neither you nor him truly knew the depth of your torture. Fuck. 

“I– I don’t–” He began before Morgana cut him off.

“Yeah, I know. I don’t know what to do either. We need her back to stop him. I sure as shit can’t beat Rowan, and neither can Erin. I don’t know everyone who lives here but I’ll bet you’d be hard-pressed to find someone who can. But her? She could. Theoretically…”

“Theoretically? Ya mean they’ve never been pitted against each other?” Logan asked, finding that hard to believe. Kreva put you through hell and back, performed every experiment under the goddamn sun on you, but never thought to match you against your brother? Maybe it was his own dark and twisted mind talking, but that would have been one of the first things he’d do.

“Nah. Even with Naji’s mutation, remnants of those experiments still stayed with us, usually affecting our mood. Pitting us against each other wouldn’t exactly build a good rapport since we were supposed to work together.” Morgana shrugged, her eyes now dry, having pushed past her initial flood of grief. “I just, can your Professor restore partial memories? I dunno, I just– she shouldn’t have to go through everything again. Shouldn’t have to remember everything she was forced to do.”

He could. Charles could. But Logan didn’t know if that would be enough. Even Kreva had said in your file you needed a certain number or specificity of memories to fully wield your mutation. He had no idea which ones they were, and whilst Charles was incredibly powerful, there was no way of him knowing either. But before he could respond, there was another cracking thump against the door and they both snapped their heads to where you’d once again tried to break through. 

Logan couldn’t help his little fond huff, despite the situation. You were as persistent as always, and he could feel your furious determination from the other side of the door. 

“Wow…” he shifted his attention back to Morgana who was looking at him with slight awe. “You really loved her, didn’t you?” 

He swallowed, her use of the past tense grating slightly in his chest. “Still do…” he murmured, dragging his gaze back to where you continued to try and break down the door. 

Morgana shifted next to him, her legs extending back in front of her, crossing at the ankle as she sipped her coffee. “So? Tell me everything. She’s my best friend and I know nothing about you, kinda unfair if you ask me.” She shrugged and Logan cast her a withering look. 

“Yeah, well I didn’t ask ya,” he sighed, before dragging his hands through his hair. He didn’t even know where to start when it came to you. “What’ya wanna know?”

Morgana clapped her hands excitedly, turning completely to face him, and he felt himself die a little on the inside, already regretting his agreement to this. 

“Where’dya meet? How long’ve you guys been together? Who said ‘I love you’ first, that kinda thing.” 

Logan raised a brow. Were these seriously the kinds of questions people wanted to know the answer to? He couldn’t help but think Morgana would get along well with both Marie and Kitty and considering this girl was apparently your best friend, it made a lot of sense. He rubbed at the back of his neck, all of a sudden feeling inadequate. 

“We uh, we met here, been together for somethin’ like eight months, last two not included and uh, I said it first.” His words came out a little jumbled, barely able to look Morgana in the eye as her grin widened.

“How long did it take the two of you to get together after you met?” She asked and Logan couldn’t help snorting a laugh. 

“‘Round three days, I think.”

The red-head choked on her coffee and Logan took a long, slightly smug sip of his own. Not quite as good as the ones you make, but it would do the job.

“Three days?! I thought us lesbians moved fast.” Her eyes were larger than saucers as she chuckled heartily, glancing between him and the door, where you’d finally gone quiet. “Though I guess your bond must have been strong if it could push past Naji’s mutation, she’d still dream about you. Did things just click between you? Just like, that instant connection kinda thing?”

The corners of his lips pulled up as he remembered seeing you for the first time. He’d never fucking admit it to anyone, but he was excited to meet you. He’d heard so damn much about you, never being able to put a face to the name was killing him. He’d sort of had an idea of what you looked like from listening to various conversations, but he wasn’t prepared for you to steal the breath from his damn lungs. You smiled so easily, laughed so brightly. You had a glimmer of wicked mischief in your eye that danced with each teasing comment you quipped. You were utterly mesmerising. Ethereal. Logan knew he was in trouble from the very start. 

“Somethin’ like that, yeah. She called me a son-of-a-bitch when we first met, I sorta stole her teaching position cuz she’d been away for two years and I didn’t think she even existed, to be honest with ya,” He too had noticed you’d gone silent on the other side of the door and he had a strong feeling you were listening. “Rest is history, but there’s very little I wouldn’t do to get her back…” he trailed off, swallowing around the lump reforming in his throat. He missed you. So fucking much. You were right there, on the other side of the door, but you looked at him with such unfamiliarity it broke him apart. You were right fucking there, but you’d never felt so far away. So out of his reach. 

A touch to his shoulder brought him back, Morgana’s hand resting atop his skin as she nodded to the door. “Go,” she mouthed, flicking her eyes back and forth between him and the wood, and he understood what she meant. Draining the remaining coffee from his mug, Logan stood to his feet, sending Morgana a wary glance behind him. He wasn’t sure this was a good idea, to be honest. You’d been so hellbent on escaping, what if this was just another one of your methods to free yourself from the room?

As if reading his mind, Morgana nodded encouragingly. “Her heart rate has settled and her blood pressure isn’t as high. Just go.” She whispered, snatching his mug from where he’d left it on the floor to return to the kitchen. She wasn’t needed for this next part and she knew it. From that one conversation, she seemed to know that he would be able to get through to you. He may be the only one who could. 

Logan took a breath, the metal of the bolt cool against his fingers before he pulled it across, twisting the doorknob and letting himself into an almost completely empty room. Before you’d woken up, Jean and Hank had set up a lighting system that didn’t cast extensive shadows. All the furniture had either been taken out or separated, each shadow on the ground completely isolated. Logan hated it. Hated that these were the lengths they had to go to in order to keep you safe. They were treating you no better than when you were a prisoner. 

It ate at his mind.

The lack of your presence however didn’t alarm him. He wasn’t expecting you to be standing waiting for him, especially if you could hear the conversation beyond the door. Taking a few slow steps into the room, Logan scanned the walls and floor, as if he could sense you in any of the various shadows. His own silhouette crossed through darkness cast by one of the tables, but it wasn’t until his back started to itch unbearably did he know where you were. Smart, he’d give you that, but you didn’t remember doing this to him before. You didn’t know he knew what it felt like. Logan rumbled a chuckle, turning to the light behind him and that itching shifted to his front. 

“You’re not as subtle as ya think, darlin’.” He mused, feeling you shift down his body and bleed through to his isolated shadow on the floor. His expression instantly softened as you rose from the ground, watching his every move warily, eyes flickering with every micromovement, nostrils flaring slightly as you prepared to make a break for it. Logan raised his hands like he’d done so many times before. “‘M’not gonna hurt ya. Never gonna hurt ya, firefly.”

“Stop calling me that.” You hissed, taking a step back from him. You’d finally learned his name, only thanks to eavesdropping on his conversation with Morgan. What the fuck had they done to her to make her so mellow? So willing to accept this. Rage flared in your gut at the thought of her being harmed. “What did you do to her? Morgana. What did you do?”

Logan almost winced at the way you hissed and snarled at him like a cornered animal, furious terror reeking off you in waves. “We helped her remember, like we’re gonna help you,” even if the idea still didn’t sit right with him. “You’re safe here. You both are.” He soothed, watching as you narrowed your eyes at him as if searching for deception. He let you look, knowing you’d find nothing but earnest truth. 

“Okay…” you breathed, though you still didn’t fully trust him. You kept your distance as he took a seat, leaning forward to brace his elbows on his thighs. Questions burned in your mind, but you kept your mouth shut, not wanting to divulge just how clueless you were about what was going on. 

Until it suddenly occurred to you. None of this was real. 

You’d seen reality glitch and phase around you. You watched your flat disappear to nothing, your friends fighting amongst themselves. Maybe there was some truth in Joes’ words. Maybe nothing you’d experienced was real, and maybe this was a part of it. You nodded to yourself, laughing bitterly.

Logan’s brows furrowed in confused concern. “What?”

“You’re not real, are you? You don’t exist.” You bit, gesturing savagely to where he was sitting. Logan hummed a tired, melancholy smile, his eyes sinking to the floor and you blinked in confusion. “What?”

You really were the reflection of his own soul, your brows pinching in exactly the same way, head tilting in the opposite direction to his own. In another time, he’d be feeling the same electric hum he always did in the moments before he kissed you, but the absence of love in your eyes kept him at bay.

“S’just funny… I said almost the exact same thing when we first met.” 

You shook your head furiously as if to clear your mind. “We’ve never met…” You whispered, though your voice faltered. Logan raised his gaze back to you, hope flickering in his chest.

“I don’t think you believe that.” He responded with equal hush, rising from the chair he’d just sat down upon, his hand still braced on the back of it. You shook your head again, eyes screwed shut as if to wall off whatever was going through your mind. 

“I– Even if I didn’t, I don’t remember you. I don’t know who you are.” The way your voice cracked was mirrored in his soul, spiderwebs of fragility snaking across his heart. You were almost pleading with him. With yourself. And to see you so fragile, so fucking scared, it made him want to shred Kreva apart.

“Morgana said you dreamt of me.”

“That’s just a coincidence…”

Logan took a step forward. “I don’t think you believe that either.”

All the tension in your body exploded, the fraying threads of your emotions finally snapping, and your maelstrom of fear and confusion stormed through your mental walls. “I don’t fucking know what I believe! I don’t! You can’t honestly stand there and expect me to believe you. Expect me to believe that the last twenty-two years of my life have been a lie. Because that’s fucking insane and you sound insane!

“But then you look at me… You look at me and I feel missed. And it fucking hurts because I don’t know why. I don’t know why you look at me like that and I don’t know who or what to believe anymore. I don’t know what’s real and I’m really fucking scared.” You took a breath, hot tears burning your eyes as you finally confessed just how utterly petrified you were. You hated feeling vulnerable, even more so in front of people you didn’t know. Or you did know. Or you did know but didn’t remember. Or whatever the truth was.

Every other time Logan had stood to pull you into his embrace, you’d melted into him, willingly accepting his comfort and warmth. So to see you recoil from his sudden movement, flinch at the way he took a hasty step toward you, shining eyes wide with fear, he had to bite down hard on his lip to stop his own overwhelming sense of guilt from springing tears to his own eyes. He took a steadying breath, frantically searching his brain for something, anything, to convince you that this was real. He was real. He knew you were scared. Fuck, he felt your fear as his own, but losing you now simply wasn’t an option.

Then it came to him. 

Slowly, tentatively, Logan extended his hand for you to take. “Eight months ago, you taught me something. I want to show you if you’ll let me.”

He saw you hesitate, eyes flickering from his hand to his face, then back to his hand. This would be it. Irrefutable proof that he was real, and the time he’d shared with you was real. Time ticked by, the clock on the wall mocking him with each rhythmic click until you nodded infinitesimally, slipping your soft palm into his. 

“Okay…” you whispered, and he offered you a small smile. 

“I need you to promise you won’t run.” He slowly brought you closer to him, keeping himself open to your suspicious gaze with each uncertain step. You sucked in a breath, still incredibly unsure.

“Fine. But I can’t promise I won’t try…” your mouth quirked in a half-hearted smirk, and though he could tell it was forced, Logan couldn’t help but feel like maybe, just maybe, you were coming back to him, piece by piece, little by little. 

It was like nothing had changed, having you in the kitchen with him, the sun casting a firelike glow through the windows. Like clockwork, he’d chopped, diced, mixed and stirred. The sizzle of browning onions, the scent of searing meat, cooking like this was now simply muscle memory, his hands working with minds of their own. All the while you watched over his shoulder, suspicious recognition creasing your brows as he stripped a few leaves of basil from their stem, dropping them into the bubbling marinara sauce. This was your recipe. You’d know it anywhere. How the fuck did he know it? How did he know the exact timings? The perfect colour for the meat before adding the sauce? And how the fuck did he know about the basil…?

Your heart raced. What if he was telling the truth? How would you even handle that? How would you go about wrapping your head around the fact that the last god knows how many years of your life have been bullshit? He had to be wrong. He had to be lying. For the sake of your own mental wellbeing, this had to be some kind of fucked up prank. Or a set-up. Maybe by that weird fucker who had Naji. 

That was something else you hadn’t allowed yourself to dwell on. The fact that your entire fucking flat simply disappeared. That you hadn’t seen any of your family since Naji tried to invade your mind. 

Naji…

You clenched your jaw. You couldn’t think about that right now. You couldn’t think about any of them right now. You didn’t know where they were, how they were. If they were alright if they were safe. If they were alive…

Here you were feeling so fucking scared, but so far none of these people had done anything to try and hurt you. Were the rest of them in similar positions? Was Atlas okay?

Was Rowan…?

Logan spared a glance away from the bubbling sauce to gauge your headspace, his brows pinching when he saw your eyes slightly glazed, lost in a mental spiral. Removing the wooden spoon from the sauce, he held it up to your mouth, snapping you from your dissociated daze. “Here. Recognise it?”

You looked at him slightly warily, watching his hand shift to cup just beneath the spoon, preventing spillages. Logan noticed your hesitation, your trepidation, and understood.  Even though you’d watched every step, you were still mistrusting. He couldn’t blame you. His gaze softened slightly, before bringing the spoon to his own mouth and tasting the food, proving to you there was nothing in it that could harm you. 

As per usual, it was fucking delicious. He couldn’t help but feel a little proud of himself for nailing it so well. The suspicion in your eyes faded slightly, and you nodded in consent as he offered it back to you, and you let him feed you your own recipe.

It was uncanny. 

“How did you…?”

Logan smiled slightly, placing the spoon back into the sauce. “I’d only known you for a day or so before we made this together. Actually, you made it and I just kinda watched.” The way he huffed fondly made your heart stutter and the realisation struck you like a punch to the gut. 

“This was real, wasn’t it…?” You asked quietly, and Logan stopped altogether to take a steadying breath. You were coming around. Finally, you were coming back. Not completely, he’d need Charles for that, but you were getting there. 

“Yeah. It was. I–” he paused, eyes trained solidly on the pan of spaghetti adjacent to the sauce. “It was my fault. I couldn’t keep you safe. I was fuckin’ helpless that night. I let them take you and couldn’t do anythin’ to stop it…” The memory still haunted him. Your bloodstained lips, your eyes fading before you dissolved, the way Kreva fucking laughed. It haunted every waking moment. 

A jolt of electricity bolted up his arm when your hand came to rest atop it. He thought it almost laughable. You comforting him whilst you didn’t even know who you were. Who he was. Managing to tear his eyes from the stove, his gaze met yours, finding only forgiveness. 

“What happened?” You asked quietly, finding warmth in the way his hand settled atop your own. 

“There was a raid here one night. That piece of shit Kreva came lookin’ for ya. Didn’t take you, but left somethin’ behind. You weren’t safe here, so I took you somewhere you were. Stayed there for six months before we had to come back. They ambushed us on the road. I was immobilised, and he took you from me and fuckin’ laughed as he did it.” He hissed, and your hand tightened on his arm. Not out of fear, he realised, but to ground him. To remind him you were there. It shattered and mended his heart at the same time. 

“Why you?” It was a loaded question. You knew that. But you needed confirmation. What you’d suspected from the moment he’d escorted you kicking and screaming into that room. From the moment you woke up. 

Logan drew in a breath. He didn’t know if telling you would make things better or worse. Whether it would help you or break you. He searched your face, finding nothing but gentle curiosity and settled on showing you instead. 

Turning back to the stove, he switched off the heat for both burners, before stepping from your touch and over to the radio. It had been a long time since you two had done this, but he couldn’t think of a better way to answer your question. 

Your head tilted in confusion as you watched him flip through the stations, pausing as if he’d seen a ghost when a song you knew crackled to life. You recognised this tune, but from when or where, you couldn’t tell. Logan turned back to you, his hand extended, vain hope glimmering in his hazel eyes. 

‘Pass me that lovely little gun My dear, my darling one’

With no small degree of hesitation, you slipped your hand into his, holding your breath as you stepped into his soft embrace. It felt familiar, like a smile from an old friend, or a spoken phrase lost to time. It felt nostalgic.

It felt like home. 

‘The cleaners are coming in, one by one You don’t even wanna let them start’

You let your arms snake around his neck, melting as his hands met your waist. Turning your head, you settled against the centre of his chest, his heartbeat steady against your ear as you swayed with him.

“We’ve done this before, haven’t we?”

‘They’re knocking now upon your door They measure the room, they know the score They’re mopping up the butcher’s floor Of your broken little hearts’

Pieces of Logan’s soul started to slowly knit back together, his arms encircling your waist to hold you tight against him, settling his cheek atop your head. 

“Yeah. Long time ago, but yeah.” He answered, his eyes stinging as you nestled closer into the dip between his collar and neck.

‘Forgive us now for what we’ve done It started out as a bit of fun Here, take these before we run away The keys to the gulag’

Your eyes closed involuntarily, basking in the unfamiliar familiarity of his smell. The dreams you had, weren’t dreams at all. They were memories. You realise that now. You were remembering a life you didn’t know you had. You were remembering him the only way you could. 

‘Here comes Frank and poor old Jim They’re gathering ‘round with all my friends We’re older now the light is dim And you are only just beginning’

Logan let himself believe if only for a moment, you remembered him. He let himself sink into the alternate reality where nothing had happened. Where you were simply with him and you were safe. Where your brother wasn’t lost and you weren’t terrified anymore. Where he could hold you without being afraid it could be the last time. Where Jade wasn’t dead but just merely an ex of your past. Where you had complete control of your mutation and weren’t afraid of yourself. 

He let himself breathe you in, your distinct scent wrapping around his mind and heart. Fuck he’d missed you so fucking much.

‘We have the answers to all your fears It’s short, it's simple, it’s crystal clear It’s roundabout and it’s somewhere near Lost amongst our winnings’

“I know why it was you…” You murmured gently, raising your head from the home you’d made. Logan’s hand slid from your waist to cup the side of your neck, keeping you there. 

‘The cleaners have done their job on you They’re hip to it, man, they’re in the groove They’ve hosed you down, you’re good as new And they’re lining up to inspect you’

Logan didn’t dare ask. Didn’t dare prompt you to continue. Could barely whisper to you in fear of his voice cracking, the growing lump in his throat making breathing suddenly much more difficult. 

‘Poor old Jim’s white as a ghost He’s found the answer that we lost We’re weeping now, weeping because There’s nothing we can do to protect you’

Your eyes flickered between his, the sting of unshed tears lining your lashes as you swallowed thickly. “I loved you. Didn’t I?”

O, children Lift up your voice, lift up your voice Children Rejoice, Rejoice

Logan closed his eyes, fighting against the urge to sink to his knees. The past tense speared his heart, but he nodded nonetheless, taking in a shaky breath. “Yeah, you did.”

Your hand skirted from his neck to the side of his face, thumb gently smoothing over his cheekbone. “And you? Did you love me?”

His eyes fluttered open again to find slight, broken hope glittering in your irises, those windows he’d come to love so fucking much. 

“Sweetheart,” he breathed, bracing his forehead against your own. “I still do.” 

The moment his lips graced your own, you felt the tears in your eyes spill down your cheeks, a lost piece of your heart fixing back into place. You felt whole again, here in his arms, kissing him to the beat of the music.

‘Hey little train, we’re jumping on The train that goes to the kingdom We’re happy, Ma, we’re having fun The train ain’t even left the station Hey little train, wait for me I once was blind but now I see Have you a seat for me Is that such a stretch of the imagination?’

Your breath caught in your throat as you tightened your arms around his neck, his hold around your waist responding in kind. You loved him. No. That didn’t feel right. 

You love him. 

Logan released the leash he had on his emotions, allowing liquid heartache to slide down his cheeks. All the fear, all the doubt, every single thought of losing you washed away as your tongue softly swiped at his lips, and he pulled you home. 

Home.  ‘Hey little train, wait for me Was bound in chains, but now I’m free I’m hanging in there, don’t you see? In this process of elimination Hey little train, we’re jumping on The train that goes to the kingdom We’re happy, Ma, we’re having fun Beyond my wildest expectation’

The music faded and you pulled back a little, eyes fluttering open to find him already gazing at you, longing dancing in his eyes, damp trails lining either side of his face. “What now…?” you queried softly, and Logan sighed slightly. 

“You gotta make a choice. Charles can help you remember everythin’ but… it won’t be easy for ya. I don’t know what you’ve gone through the last two months, but I know everythin’ you went through before. And Morgana filled me in on some shit Kreva didn’t note down…” 

Your heart skipped a beat. “Morgana? Is she alright?” 

Logan nodded, the relief on your face worth all the stars in the sky. “Yeah, she’s fine ‘n safe. Charles already helped her, so she remembers. Erin’s here too but uh… she’s less cooperative.” 

You snickered, and Logan thought he’d have to die before he heard that sound again. “Yeah, sounds like Erin. Is Rowan here? I should probably see him, let him know I’m alright.” 

Your heart dropped with the way Logan’s face fell, dread pooling in your gut. 

“We’re gonna get him back, ‘kay? All of them. We’re gonna get ‘em all back. I promise.” Not even the conviction in his voice, nor the way his hands smoothed your hair, brought you any comfort. 

“Where is he…?” You asked, though utterly terrified to know the answer. 

Logan sucked in a breath, bracing himself. “We’d managed to get you, Morgana, Erin and Rowan out before we had to bail. Kurt can teleport too, but his last trip was Rowan before it became too dangerous. We were already in the air, and we thought we were safe. But Joes came out of nowhere and took him back to Kreva.”

You gasped a sob, attempting to wrench yourself from his grip but he held you fast. “L– let me go! I– I have to get him. I can’t leave him.” You bit between stuttered breaths, panic rising in your throat. “I can’t– I can’t leave him there. He’s my brother. Logan let– let me go!” You fought against his hold and took every weak punch, every struggled pound against his chest.

“I know darlin’, I know.” he hushed as you went limp in his hold, your shoulders shaking with each strangled cry. “Shh, it’s okay. We’re gonna get him back, firefly. I promise,” he whispered into your hair as you fell to pieces in his embrace, sinking to the ground in his arms. He pulled you in tight, bracing you against his chest. “I promise. It’s okay, shh, shh, it’s okay.”

He held you as you cried, having the distinct feeling you weren’t just crying for Rowan. And he was right. Everything had hit you all at once. Your lost life. Your forgotten memories. The lies. So many fucking lies. And the one person who had told you the truth you didn’t fucking remember. 

How long you’d been sitting in his arms, crying into his chest whilst he whispered soothing nothings into your hair, you’d never know. But when your sobs reduced to nothing but hiccups, you raised your head, taking a long, shaky breath. 

Logan’s palms instantly cupped either side of your face, thumbs wiping away the stains of tears from your cheeks before he offered you a small, empathetic smile. You slowly blew out the breath you were holding, brows pinching against another wave of anguish. “You said I had a choice. What was the other option?”

“You stay like this,” he began, his thumbs still smoothing over your cheeks though the tears were long gone now. “We try help you with your mutation and you don’t remember everything you’ve endured. We tell you what you need to know and you start again.” Both options terrified him. There was no easy way forward, and he knew that. He knew you knew that too. 

“So, I’m spared of whatever shit I’ve been through but I won’t remember anything else?” you clarified and he nodded. “I won’t remember you?” Logan nodded again, though his time it was slight. “And you’re okay with that?”

No. He wasn’t. It was agony to think that you wouldn’t remember the last eight months you’d spent with him. “That doesn’t matter here–” He started before you cut him off. 

“It matters to me. I want to remember you, Logan.”

His jaw tensed, eyes lowering to the floor. “I don’t wanna be the reason you’re in pain. I don’t want you to remember for me just to regret it after you remember everythin’ else. Your past wasn’t kind to you, sweetheart.” He couldn’t help the way his chest inflated when your hand softly cupped the side of his bearded jaw, raising his head back to look into your eyes. 

“I’d want to remember anyway. I don’t wanna be some vacant shell who doesn’t know who she is. No matter how fucked up. No matter what I went through, it made me who I was. It made me who you fell in love with. I wanna be her again.” 

“You already are.” He murmured, before capturing your lips in another gentle kiss and you smiled against him. “There isn’t a version of you I won’t love. Whether you remember everythin’ or nothin’,” he whispered against your lips. “I’ll always be right here.”

You rested your brow against his as if you could communicate everything you were feeling through touch alone. “I think we need to go and see Charles.”

You don’t think you’d ever been this nervous. Your heart beat like a freight train in your chest, nails digging into the palms of your hands as you stood outside Charles Xavier’s office alone. Logan had entered before you, telling you to wait whilst he spoke to the headmaster, about what you could only assume. 

Your breath came quick, unsteady. You’d already agreed to get your memories back before Logan even brought it up. You wanted to know who you were, but now you were standing outside Xavier’s office, you weren’t sure you made the right choice. What if restoring your memories made you a completely different person? You didn’t know if they’d been restored before, had they been restored when Logan met you? Is that who he fell in love with? Or were you just as clueless then as you were now? You had too many questions and too few answers to feel calm about what lay ahead of you. 

Your biggest fear was remembering that you agreed with Kreva, and whatever he was trying to do. From what you knew, he was pure fucking evil, running experiments on mutants for whatever sick and twisted gains he got out of it. You didn’t know his end goal, but what if you agreed with him? Surely that was how you wound up there in the first place, no?

Or were you taken? Or sold? You couldn’t even remember your parents. Did you have parents? Were you grown in that fucking facility?

Too many questions.

Your teeth gnawed on your bottom lip as you waited, savouring the slight bite of pain as you peeled a layer of skin into your mouth, sucking the blood from the hurt. This was taking too long. He’d been in there for too long. You didn’t know exactly how long, but it was only supposed to be a quick conversation, not whatever the fuck this was. Having just about enough of waiting, you’d resolved to knock on the door and not wait for an answer before heading in. That was until the door opened slowly, a dark-haired girl poking her head from the room inside. 

“You uh, you can come in. Sorry it took so long…” she mumbled, avoiding eye contact. You tilted your head to the side. When the fuck had she arrived? You’d been standing outside this office since Logan went in and you hadn’t seen anyone enter or exit? She opened the door a little wider, revealing five other people, your eyes widened as you saw the familiar auburn curly hair of your best friend. 

“Morgo…” You breathed, before rushing through the door and past the makeshift bed to wrap your arms around her, holding her tight. Morgana reciprocated, her hands braced against your back as she squeezed you in her embrace. 

“Hey, freakshow. How’re you holding up?” She asked, pulling back slightly to give you a once over, making sure you weren’t hurt.

It warmed Logan’s heart to see you interact with your friends like this. The raw relief etched into your features brought him a kind of relief of his own. Morgana was safe, and that had somewhat set you at ease.

“Yeah, ‘m’okay. Upright and not crying.” You shrugged, and Morgana laughed slightly. Clearly, that must have been some kind of inside joke between the two of you. Logan didn’t fight to hide his smile, earning himself a sweet look from Ororo and a look of utter shock from Scott. He rolled his eyes at the latter.

“Sounds about right,” Morgana’s eyes fell to the floor as she thought about what she wanted to say next. “Look… if you’re gonna go ahead with this–”

“I am, Morgo. Why is everyone trying to convince me not to now? Surely the whole point in getting me back was to restore my memories, now you’re all questioning it?” 

Logan could understand why you were so irate. Everything was so fucking confusing right now. It was hard to know what the right thing to do was. But you’d chosen, and he needed to respect that. As did everyone else in the room.

“I get that. I just… you need to prepare yourself. Mine wasn’t exactly pretty and I didn’t go through half the shit you did,” she continued, empathy flooding her crimson eyes. “I just– you went through so fucking much. For our sake. You were… different to how you are now.”

Logan felt the blood drain from his face. “Different how?” he asked lowly, prepared to drag you away and hole up with you somewhere safe. 

Not that it had helped last time.

“Nothing bad! You never worked for Kreva willingly…” she paused, glancing at each mutant in the room. “You were just… scarier if that makes sense. You scared the shit out of us. Not because you did anything! Fuck I’m explaining this so badly…” she sucked in a breath, holding it for a beat before exhaling. “You were real good at sealing away your emotions. Most of the time we wondered if you had any at all. It was always Rowan who was the emotional one. You were just kinda… stony, about the whole thing. The only time you spoke out was when you volunteered yourself for certain things, and that was to protect us. You weren’t a bad person, you were just… yeah. Different.” She finished, leaving the room in stunned silence. 

It didn’t come as too much of a surprise to Logan. You didn’t want to share your emotions at the best of times, at least at the start of your relationship. And knowing you had to do that almost your whole life, not because of lack of option, but because of self-preservation? It burned him.

“Okay… but I wasn’t like, fucked up or anything. Like, I didn’t kill a bunch of people, right?”

The silence was so loud you could hear it echoing against the walls of the room. You refused to let it scare you. You weren’t about to be intimidated out of this. No matter what you’d done in your past, it would stay where it belonged. 

In the fucking past. 

“This is taking too fucking long. Can we just do it?” You grit, folding your arms in irritation. 

“You’re certain this is what you want?” Your head whipped around to who you assumed was Charles Xavier. Honestly, he wasn’t what you were expecting. You were expecting someone a little more intimidating to be the head of the school and the mutant everyone kept banging on about. Not just some older dude in a wheelchair. 

“I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t.” You responded curtly, casting a glance at the others around the room. The girl with the brown hair stood close to Logan, her brows pinched in subdued fear. For you or of you, you couldn’t discern. Were you really that scary? 

Charles exhaled a sigh. “Very well then. If you could all leave the room.”

“I’m stayin’.” Logan wasn’t about to leave you alone with this. He’d seen what had happened to Morgana. Watched as she writhed and contorted on the ground, blood streaming from her ears and nose. He wasn’t about to wait in ignorance whilst you were in agonising pain in here. He didn’t think he had it in him. 

“Logan… this procedure is extremely difficult. Any distractions could cause further damage to her subconscious.”

“Then I won’t be distracting.” His tone left no room for argument, and you honestly felt a little better knowing he wasn’t going to leave you. He cast you a slight, encouraging smile and you nodded in gratitude as Charles huffed in defeat.

“Fine. If everyone else could leave the room.” He said pointedly, and Morgana enveloped you in another hug.

“I’ll see ya on the other side, girlie. You’ll be fine. You got your big strong dream man with ya.” She winked and you couldn’t help snorting a laugh, though you could tell by the look in her eye she was terrified for you. That one you could distinguish. 

The woman with white hair placed a hand on your shoulder as Morgana left through the door. Though you couldn’t recall a single time you’d ever met her, she looked at you as if you were an old friend, though said nothing. Her hand squeezed slightly before she too headed out. The man you knew to be Scott strode passed you wordlessly, refusing to even look up at you through his sunglasses.

What the fuck was his problem?

“Kitty?” Charles prompted, and you turned to look to where the girl was staying completely still, her sad eyes still trained on you. You raised a brow, and she winced slightly, before running to pull you into a crushing hug. 

“I don’t care who you are after this. I don’t hate you anymore. It wasn’t your fault, I truly understand that now. I’m so, so sorry for blaming you.” You held your hands up as her hold on you tightened, shooting Logan a panicked glance. 

“Kitty…” he started, and she took a step back from you, angrily wiping at the tears down her cheeks. 

“Yeah, right. Okay. You got this, yeah? Come find me after and we can have tea or something. We got a lot to catch up on…” She gave you one last hug before almost running from the room, closing the door behind her. You watched the closed door with complete confusion. Logan chuckled slightly behind you, placing both hands on either of your shoulders.

“She’s missed ya. We all have.” You leaned back, your head resting against the back of his chest as he pressed a kiss to your hair. 

“You won’t have to for much longer, right?” You looked around Logan to where Charles had taken his place at the head-side of the bed. It looked like some kind of medical bed they’d dragged from a hospital. Did they have one here? You supposed it was useful if things were to go wrong. 

The thought had your gut twisting. Just how wrong could things go…?

“Hey,” Logan caught your attention, a hand guiding your face to look at him. It’s like he had a sixth sense for whenever you started to spiral, noticing the moment your eyes looked even a little distant. “You’re gonna be okay. I’ll be right here, yeah? Not gonna leave ya.” He soothed, slowly wrapping his arms around your shoulders, a broad hand cupping the back of your head as you nuzzled into the crook of his neck, savouring the contact.

“Okay…” you breathed, steeling yourself before pushing back from him and turning to Charles. “Let’s just get this over with…”

Charles nodded finitely, patting the surface of the medical bed. “Just lie back and try to relax. I know it’s difficult considering the circumstances, but if you could keep your mind as clear as you can, it will greatly help the process.” 

You sucked in a breath, hopping up onto the bed and swinging your legs over, lying back against the hard surface. They really hadn’t tried to make it particularly comfortable, but you supposed they didn’t have time before they tried this with Morgana.

Morgana.

You concentrated on how she was even after this procedure. She hadn’t all changed that much. Maybe you’d be the same. Maybe you’d still be you but with very little noticeable change. Thinking of her filled you with courage, even more so when Logan took your hand and knelt by your bedside. 

“You ready?” He asked, trying his fucking best not to let his overwhelming concern leak through his voice. You nodded a little shakily as Charles’ hands came to rest on either side of your head.

“See you on the other side.” You smiled weakly, squeezing his hand slightly, before you felt a slight pressure inside your head, growing and pushing, rearranging, and your vision faded to black.

You were falling. Wind whipped your hair and face, arms flailing to catch yourself on something, anything, trying in vain to save yourself from the inevitable landing. Your stomach lurched up into your throat, guts writhing and flipping as you failed to control your descent. Mouth agape in a silent, wrenching scream, you plummeted down, down, down. Flashes of light burned against your closed eyes, colours singing your retinas as you clawed at nothing, deafening voices ringing in your ears, crashes of explosions, and bloodcurdling screams cut short. Your heart raced in your chest, your breathing ragged before everything stopped.

You plunged into an ocean of pitch black, lungs burning as you fought to breathe, only resulting in an intake of water, mocking bubbles rising from your mouth, legs kicking fruitlessly against the anchor wrapped around your feet. Cracking your eyes open, you looked down.

Not an anchor.

A hand.

A shadowy, skeletal hand gripped your ankle, seven more rising from the obsidian depths to grasp at your legs, your waist, scratching against your skin, tearing at your clothes as you struggled to free yourself, writhing and twitching to reach the surface. 

You screamed again, muffled, jagged, noiseless in the muted depths of your own mind. Your vision tunnelled, oxygen scarce as your brain started to shut down. This was it. This was where you died. Trapped in the sea of black, drowned by your own fears.

Until everything stopped. Your feet touched solid ground and the ocean started to drain away around you. After being so weightless, your body felt like lead as you lay on the surface, coughing up inky liquid, your chest heaving with every strangled breath. Taking just a moment to remind yourself you weren’t dead, you roughly swiped your soaking hair from your face, lifting your head to at least try and take a look at your surroundings. But your eyes were met with nothing. Absolutely nothing. You couldn’t tell where the floor ended and the sky began. There was no divide. You were completely lost and for the first time, you found yourself wishing there was some kind of light to guide you. 

As if on command, a flicker of white appeared ahead of you, illuminating the pit of nothingness and granting you the vision you sought. Shakily struggling to your feet, you looked down and froze slightly. What you were standing on wasn’t solid. Or at least, it shouldn’t be. Ripples shifted beneath your feet like water, the light reflecting in irregular patterns with one small step forward. Taking one knee, you pressed your hand against the surface, pulling back as it shifted with your contact, your own reflection looking back at you quizzically. 

Releasing a determined huff, you wiped your wet hand on your soaking t-shirt, looking back to the pulsing light ahead of you, drawing you in. And you let it, your legs moving as if on their own, footsteps echoing in the emptiness. Some kind of chamber, then, if your footsteps bounced back to you. 

Your eyes squinted the closer you got, your hand shielding your face from the light, before it dulled for you, as if understanding. You blinked away the spots behind your eyes, leaning closer to the orb, and tilting your head around it. Images flashed within the surface, faces you knew well, and faces you didn’t recognise. This was you, you realised. This was everything you were missing. Everything you’d been through, everything you didn’t remember was right here in front of you. Who you were. Who you are. 

Reaching up, you lightly tapped the surface of the glow with your finger, watching as it started to pulse faster, light growing more intense before your vision exploded with white and you were thrust forward, the environment around you shifting and changing like ink in a glass of water. 

Falling to your knees, you barely caught yourself before you struck the floor, your hands biting against a cold, steel surface. Shaking your head of a slight fuzziness, you inhaled, almost choking on the thick scent of sweat and fuel. Your heartbeat spiked.

You knew this. 

Fear laced your blood as you raised your head, taking in the all too familiar interior of an aircraft, and your breath froze when your eyes landed upon a lone figure sitting against the wall, her hair bound behind her bowed head, fingers laced together, dressed in all black. 

You knew her. Fuck did you know her. You knew her incredibly well.

Because it was you. 

But it wasn’t you at the same time. You were sitting dangerously still, various knives and blades strapped across your back, your legs, and the sides of your combat boots. A black mask settled over the entirety of your face, two thin slits cut into the metal for you to see out of. You remembered that fucking thing. It stank of blood and fear.

“You’ve got your orders?” 

Your attention shifted to a burly, broad-shouldered man who stood in the doorway between the hold and the cockpit, his arms folded across his chest, a gun strapped across his back, a similar mask concealing his features. But you knew who it was. Of course you did. It was the same motherfucker who’d held Naji by the throat not two days ago. 

Your past stayed silent, simply wringing her hands together as if to resist wrapping them around his throat.

“Not feeling talkative, Subject Eight?” his voice lilted with mocking as he leaned against the doorway in a way that told you this must have been one of the first interactions between them. 

Silently, the shadows in the craft started to shift, tendrils winding up his legs, around his waist and neck, and he only seemed to notice when they started to constrict.

“H-hey, what’re y–”

“Don’t fucking call me that,” your past hissed, slowly rising to her feet, her fingers flexing as darkness extended from her fingertips, sharpening into five long, razor-sharp claws. “I can show you things not even Kreva knows I can do.” With deadly quiet, she stalked across the floor, raising her hand to the man’s face, a claw pointed dangerously close to his eye. Those tendrils around his body tightened further, and you watched as he struggled to draw breath. 

Kreva.

Even hearing his name sent ice through your veins.

“It was– just a joke, Phantom.” He managed through strangled breaths, struggling to free himself as he started to rise from the floor, Phantom taking a step back from him as if to admire her work. 

“Drop zone in– what’s going on here?” another faceless soldier stepped through the door, sounding almost irritated at what he was seeing. Phantom’s head turned to him almost robotically, the shadows dissolving in an instant. 

“Just joking around.” She responded flatly, her voice devoid of all emotion. Was this seriously how you used to be?

“K, what did Doc say about pissing her off?” he asked his companion who had crumpled to the floor, a hand braced around his neck, his breaths strained and harsh. “Fucking idiot. Drop zone in five.” was all the newcomer said, before turning on his heel and marching out, K now scrambling to his feet to follow, muttering something that sounded like ‘crazy mutant bitch’ under his breath as he went. 

You watched as your past sighed, sitting back down heavily and bracing her head in her hands. You knew what she was doing. She was remembering why she was here. Who she was here for. This was one of the missions you’d volunteer for to save them. To save the rest of NLMO from the mental torture you were about to endure. Because that’s all these missions were. Mental, emotional torture. You didn’t want to hurt people. You hated how he made you hurt people. So many innocent lives would suffer because of the things you would do. 

It made you wonder which particular mission this was. 

Red lights flared to life, a deafening siren blaring as the doors to the hold opened and Phantom stood, checking her equipment one last time before another figure appeared through the door, and you felt yourself freeze in place.

Unnaturally skinny, tall, and had a pair of thick, round glasses perched on the end of his crooked nose. Terror stilled your breath as Doctor Kreva walked through the doors, placing two hands on either of Phantom’s shoulders.

She stiffened.

“My darling Eight. I wanted to wish you luck before your mission,” he drawled, relishing in the theatrics. “This should be easy enough for you, but in case you forget, Subject Five is primed and ready if you decide you want to stage another little rebellion.” 

Phantom released a shaky breath, her eyes closing behind her mask. It was your punishment. It was always your punishment. If you acted out, if you even thought about fighting back, they’d torture your brother to tighten your leash and force you to cooperate.

She stayed silent, and Kreva’s hand clawed into her shoulders and you felt the pressure against your own before he released her and took a step back and said nothing else as Phantom opened her eyes and took off at a run towards the open bay door, leaping into the dark sky beyond. 

You followed, copying her exact movements and dissolving into the dark before either of you struck the ground. You had a sneaking suspicion you couldn’t be hurt or killed within a memory, but you also didn’t particularly want to risk it. 

Rising up from the shadows, you took a moment to look around, spotting your past lightly jogging towards a dirt track. Bile rose in your throat. You knew what this mission was. Even in the dead of night, you’d recognise this location anywhere. Breath flew from your lungs as you tried to call out to yourself, beg her to stop before she did what she could never undo. But no sound left your mouth. You were mute, powerless to do nothing but watch and remember as Phantom stood in the centre of the track, statue-esque, silent. 

You followed at a sprint. If you couldn’t stop her verbally, then you’d take her out by force. You could stop this. You could change your past. This didn’t have to happen. Lowering your head, you lunged forward toward her, arms outstretched to tackle her to the floor.

Only, you passed straight through her, landing harshly on the other side of the dirt track. Though you felt no pain. Only the sharp jolt of coming to such a sudden stop. You looked back in terror as headlights shone from ahead, the low hum of engines cut through the silence of the night as four trucks approached your location, each with a silver caduceus painted into the back doors. 

These were medical trucks. Transporting supplies to the refugee hospital a little further away. Your head whipped around. How had you not seen the small, twinkling lights in the middle distance? This was a camp for those who had evacuated the small local town after the airstrike. 

Hundreds of children were taking shelter there. So many innocent lives you were about to snuff out. 

The trucks trundled to a stop, engines stuttering, and you watched as Phantom raised her hands in faux fear, slowly backing out of the cones of light. Four gunmen rushed to the front of the convoy, fingers braced on the triggers of their rifles, though hesitant to shoot. These weren’t soldiers. They hadn’t been trained to kill people. You realised they were more likely fathers, sons, brothers of those who had been injured or killed in the attack. The town was the centre of the uprising, and in one fell swoop, it had been completely obliterated.

These people were just trying to survive. Trying to recover.

Voices rang out in a language you didn’t understand, and you know your past self didn’t understand either. You watched as she bowed her head in submission, backing up a little further until she was completely out of the light. You remembered this. 

You knew what happened next. 

With a flick of her hand, a tendril of shadow whipped out from the darkness, wrapping around the first gunman’s neck and dragging him screaming into the tree line. Gunshots were fired, but none of them met their mark. These people barely knew how to use their weapons, let alone accurately. A jagged spike erupted from the night, spearing another through his spine with a wet squelch and raising him off the ground for the other two to watch, before slamming him back into the dirt, knives of obsidian rising from his own shadow to pierce through his back. 

Make them fear you. That was Kreva’s orders. Make them so terrified the thought of uprising was synonymous with pain and death. With loss and grief. 

With utter, paralysing terror. 

The two cowered back, a stray bullet firing into her shoulder. She took a single step back, the shadows in the gunman’s chest dissolving, leaving him choking in a pool of his own blood. Holy fuck he was still alive. 

You watched with sick awe as darkness wound up her legs to cover the wound, sifting through her skin and mending it flawlessly, leaving nothing but a small spot of blood. With a tilt of her head and a flick of her fingers, two humanoid figures rose from the shadows on either side of the track, stepping fearlessly into the light to flank the two remaining men. Your stomach convulsed as one of the figures disappeared completely into one man through his own silhouette, flinching as his neck snapped back, a black hand exploding up through his mouth, blood raining onto his face as he stood in a horrific exhibition of your forgotten mutation. He slumped to the floor, the shadow figure remaining standing as he twitched before falling completely still. 

The final gunman fell to his knees, muttering quickly and breathlessly and you realised he was praying. Several thorned whisps rose up from his shadow, snaking around his body, across his forehead, before Phantom’s fist started to tighten, and those thorns dug into his skin. Trails of crimson leaked down his face as they continued to constrict, his voice raising as he prayed, though for what or to whom, you didn’t know. Her fist closed completely, and with a sickening crunch of snapping bones, the shadows sectioned his body into pieces, his head split in two. 

Blood soaked into the earth as Phantom stepped back into the light, her eyes trained on the remaining people inside the cars, each too terrified to make any kind of move. Tears trailed down your face as five more figures formed from nothing, almost floating to each truck to silence the screams of the terrified until one remained. He was dragged through the dust by two of her puppets and thrown at her feet face down. Phantom crouched, raising his head with the tip of her finger beneath his chin, obsidian solidifying once again to arm her other hand with five sharp claws, shadows extending beyond her shoulder blades into two broad, black wings. 

She was every part the demon you used to be.

Dragging a razor down the side of his face, the man whimpered, flinching as she drew a line of scarlet over his brow and down his cheek. A mark. She was going to let him live, so there would always be somebody to remember what happened to those who fought back against the powers of the world. 

“Run,” Phantom whispered, and the man scrambled to his feet, slicing his chin against your claw, before taking off at a sprint in the direction he came, his footsteps fading into the deathly silence. She watched him go, flicking her wrist to the figures before they set to work dragging the various trucks into the shadow, tyres dissolving, medical equipment disappearing as if it were never there, lost to the darkness.

Phantom took a breath before her shoulders shook and she sunk to the ground, her conjurations dissolving into nothing as she was left in total darkness, sobs wracking her chest. You felt her anguish as your own, hot tears still leaking from your eyes as you stood. You wanted to tell her this wasn’t her fault. She didn’t have a choice. He made her do this. And if she wasn’t the one here right now, it would be someone else she cared for so fucking much. 

But you couldn’t say anything. Couldn’t do anything but watch as she tried to stifle her sobs, knowing her job wasn’t even close to being done yet. With hiccuping breaths, your past stood to her feet, sparing a glance at the carnage she’d left in her wake before her head turned to the camp in the distance. Her hands balled into fists, and you remembered the way you had to gaslight yourself into continuing. ‘This is the last mission.’ ‘He’ll set you all free after this.’ ‘Rowan will be safe.’ ‘Jade will be safe.’

Jade.

You felt your heart crack as you thought of her. How could you have forgotten about Jade? Why had Kreva erased everything of another one of his own subjects? Clenching your jaw, you shook your head slightly. 

Not now. 

Phantom had already started striding toward the camp, and you found yourself following her, despite the fear pumping through your blood. You didn’t want to remember this. You’d made a mistake. You didn’t want this. It hurt. It hurt so fucking much. The things you’d done. The people you’d killed. Was this all you were good for? A weapon for Kreva to use at his disposal? A tool to inflict the same amount of agony as those he would use on you in that fucking room? 

You didn’t want this.

You didn’t want this.

Your surroundings started to stutter and glitch as you started to fight against remembering. Fight against Charles hold in your mind. You couldn’t do this. You were happyer forgetting. Happier not knowing who you were and what you’d done.

The darkness swirled like paint mixed on a palette, colours blending and twisting around you, your hands clawing at either side of your temples, clutching your head tightly as if to withdraw him from your mind. 

You didn’t want this.

You didn’t want this.

You didn’t want this. 

You didn’t want this.

Logan’s heart started to race as Charles grimaced, his hand clutching yours ached from the weight of your tight grip, your nails digging into his skin. His other hand came to brush your hair from your forehead between Charles’ hands on your temples, attempting to settle your switching head, swiping his thumb against your brow.

“It’s okay…” he hushed, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “‘S’okay firefly, you’re okay.” His soothing became more desperate as you started to writhe on the table, your back arching as if you were possessed. “The hell’s going on?” he asked, panic rising in his throat.

“She’s… she’s fighting it.” Charles grit, eyes screwed shut as he attempted to navigate your battling mind. His fingers against your head tensed, applying more pressure to either side of your temples. “I’m losing her.”

“Then get her back!” Logan cried, wild fear beating his heart like a warning drum. He couldn’t lose you. He just got you back for Christ’s sake. He couldn’t lose you again. And he was so damn useless when it came to this stuff. He didn’t know what the fuck to do. If you needed somebody taken out, sure, he’s the guy. But mind shit? Brain shit? He was floundering in the same darkness he imagined you were. 

“What did I say about distractions?” Charles barked curtly in response, his neck flexing as he fought to keep you in his grasp. All Logan could do was continue to smooth your brow, whispering sweet nothings as you continued to twitch and bow. A whip of shadow lanced into his peripheral from the corner of the room, and he was barely able to lunge forward in time to shield Xavier from the spear before it lashed through his head.

Pain shook Logan’s system from his shoulder, blood leaking from where your mutation had pierced him and stuck there, sharp, thorny barbs preventing him from breaking free. “Y’alright?” He asked, voice a little strained as his entire body sang with pulsing agony. You must be remembering your mutation. 

Charles nodded, though his eyes still closed, still focused on taming your hurricane of a mind. 

Logan grit his teeth against the wild thrashing of the vine through his shoulder, his arm tensing as it pulls against his strength in an attempt to drag him back. But moving wasn’t an option right now. He knew the intention was to take out Charles, to stop whatever it was he was doing, and he had to remind himself time and time again that this was for your benefit. This was to help you, no matter how much it shattered his heart to see you in so much pain. Not only was he fighting against your own mutation, but he was fighting his instincts not to tear Xavier away from your head and shred him apart for doing this to you. 

Another vine burst through his other shoulder, droplets of his blood staining your skin as you bucked to free yourself. He cried your name, terror lacing his tone as a third vine plunged into his back and through his chest, whipping slightly before pulling back and tugging.

He felt his weight start to shift, his feet grinding against the wooden floor as he struggled to win over the contest of strength. How was something seemingly made from nothing so fucking strong? Barbed thorns sank deeper into his skin, a grunt of pain flying from his lips, sweat beading his brow. 

Jean burst through the doors, either having heard the commotion or after being called by Charles. 

“Logan?!” She started, horrified by the display, but he waved her off quickly. 

“‘M fine. Help Chuck.” He instructed harshly, though Jean hesitated a moment, her eyes wide. He knew why. Of course he knew why. After what happened three years ago, everybody was so damn afraid of you and what you could do. Fear had her glancing frantically between your possessed form and Charles’ struggle. “Jean, please. I– I can’t lose her again…” he admitted shakily, gritting his teeth against another sharp wave of pain from yet another savage tug of the tendrils in his body. 

It seemed to be the push she needed, scrambling forward and around the foot of the bed to stand by Charles’ side, covering his hands with her own and closing her eyes. 

Agony coursed through his system as his knees buckled, looking down to bare his teeth at another frantic thorn that had burst through the space between his joint and kneecap. He’d take it. Fuck, he’d take anything if he knew he was helping you in some way, even as the shadow wrapped around his leg, tearing at the flesh beneath his jeans. He’d endure it if it meant he’d get you back.

Everything was too loud. Like the centre of a tornado, your memories ripped and tore at your brain, slashing through your consciousness, ripping at your brain. Shards of agony, both physical and mental, had you sinking to the floor, hands clamped over your ears, head buried between your knees. Your hair whipped around your hidden brow, a cacophony of screams and torment bursting your eardrums. There was no happiness here. No comfort. Even memories of your brother were laced with poison. Every image of Jade followed up by the night of her death. Her death was brought by your own fucking hands. You’d seen how you’d torn her apart, desperation to help clouding your senses, seeing her as yet another adversary in your way. In a roaring cloud of shadow, you’d shredded her to nothing, and even as you flayed the skin from her body, she smiled. She told you she loved you.

And you’d left her skeleton in your wake. 

You killed. You maimed. You hurt. You’d caused pain. You’d caused anguish. Heartbreak. Agony. It was as Kreva had said. You were a machine. An instrument devoid of any semblance of humanity. You had to be. The things you’d done… you couldn’t have had an ounce of empathy in your body. 

You’d killed the woman you loved.

And you’d tried to kill the man you love. Memories of that day's training had circled your mind like a carousel of torment. Fighting tooth and nail to claw a path out and escape. Landing blow after blow on the man you’d fallen in love with, every strike flung to kill. 

‘He forgave you.’

You tensed, waiting for the following punch to the gut that was taking far too long to arrive.

‘We forgave you.’

A sob wracked from your chest, your head pressing further into your knees. You just wanted everything to stop. The noise, the damn noise, you wanted everything to end. 

‘You’re not alone anymore.’

Your breath shuddered from your mouth, tears and saliva staining your t-shirt. You knew that voice. Her soft cadence like a balm.

‘I forgive you.’

Slowly, and with no small degree of trepidation, you raised your head. Your lungs froze, eyes stuck on the woman before you. Her pearly smile. Her smooth, bronze skin almost glowed in the lack of light. Black hair cropped short by her ears, bright blond highlights making her look like some kind of alternative angel. 

A gold locket shone brightly at the hollow of her throat, a beacon in the void. You shook slightly as she took a step toward you, taking a knee in front of your curled form. 

“Jade…?” You breathed her name like a question, unsure if this was real or yet another nightmarish scenario in which you’d have to watch her die yet again. But the moment her fingertips grazed your cheek, you found your answer.

“Hey, Shadow.”

Tears flowed freely down your face as you looked into her cerulean eyes, so full of earnest forgiveness you felt yourself shatter. The nickname you hadn’t heard in so long breaking down every part of yourself you’d held together by a thread. You surged forward into her arms, finally finding something you could connect with in the warmth of her embrace. 

“How… how’re you here?” You asked shakily, tears saturating her black shirt a few shades darker before you pulled back, shaking your head in disbelief. “How–”

“I’m a part of you, numbnuts. Of course I’m here.” She said it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “You’re focussing on the shit Kreva put us through. Focussing on the pain you’ve brought. So now I have to drag your sorry ass through a bunch of happy memories to remind you how much of a rockstar you actually are.” She punched your arm lightly and you laughed a little, the sound split by the lump in your throat. 

“First time I see you in three years and you punch me?” You asked, wiping the tears from your face with the heel of your palm before taking her outstretched hand, your knees groaning at the release of pressure as you stood.

“Yeah well, someone had to slap some sense into you, and since your new boyfriend isn’t here, I guess I’m the next best thing.” She winked, though guilt spiked through your gut. 

“Jade… I–”

“Shadow, I’m dead. If you spent the rest of your life single and sex-less because of me, I’d be so mad at you. Though I wasn’t exactly thrilled when you tried to forget about me, but I get it.” She shrugged, holding your hand in her own. You’d forgotten just how blunt she could be, though it was a breath of fresh air from everyone tiptoeing around you in regard to her death. 

“Can’t argue with that, I guess…” you huffed a small smile, finding a calm sense of contentment simply being here in her presence again. 

“Speaking of your new man, I think he’d be a great place to start.” She grinned at you, waving her hand as the glitching images of your past started to shift and change, settling on a scene you knew extremely well. It wasn’t so long ago you were there, reading in the little window seat of the forest cabin, watching whatever Logan was up to outside. 

The colours of the cabin separated, morphing into the kitchen and lounge, and you watched the ghost of your past self materialise on the sofa, the tartan blanket covering your legs, your nose buried in a copy of Ghosted, the paranormal love story you’d been so hooked on in your first month moving there. Though from the way you were devouring the pages, you realised this must have been your re-read.

Jade raised a brow to you as if to say ‘seriously?’ and you snorted a laugh.

“What? It had a good plot. Sad ending though…”

“‘M’not judging.” Her voice told you anything but.

The occasional crackle of the hearth and swish of flipping pages broke the calm silence before the door to the cabin pushed open and Logan stepped through, toeing off his shoes at the door before closing it swiftly, preventing any further heat from escaping. Your brows furrowed as you tried to remember this specific memory. How had you instantly understood all those times where you’d killed so many and yet this was something you had to strain yourself to recall? Your eyes fell on a small, wrapped package he held in his hands.

What was this?

“Stop thinking so damn hard and just watch.” Jade elbowed you and you shot her a look of faux irritation but acquiesced nonetheless. 

You watched your own ghost look to the door, her eyes lighting up instantly when she saw him, placing her book on the coffee table and rising to lean over the back of the sofa. “Hey Lo’! All done?” She asked, and Logan’s expression softened when he saw her.

Did he really look at you like that?

“Yeah. Should be good for ‘another month or so, weather depending. Come over here a sec, wanna tell you somethin’.” You could see the subdued excitement in his eyes as your past stood from the sofa, draping the blanket over her shoulders, a brow raised in suspicion. 

Logan set the package on the table before his hands cupped the sides of your neck and he stooped to press a lingering kiss to your lips. Your past smiled against him, arms snaking around his neck as he pulled back from you, cheeks pursed as he tried to suppress a grin. 

“What’s up with you?” She asked, eyeing him with amused scepticism. Logan turned her in his arms, resting his chin on her shoulder as she huffed a small laugh. 

“Open it.” He ghosted his lips against her ear, and she leaned back into him, a hand holding his arm around her waist, the other picking up the little, strangely shaped package, brown paper crinkled in odd ways. 

She cast him a glance, Logan nodding back to your hands with encouragement, before you started to slowly tear the paper from whatever was hidden inside. Your heart surged as your memory slowly returned, a fond smile pulling at your lips as you watched your past suck in a soft gasp.

“Logan… this is gorgeous.” 

Paper now discarded, she held a small, delicate pinewood carving of a miniature cabin in her hands, accurate to the exterior of the one you were in right now, log pile and all. Her eyes filled with awe as she turned it gently in her fingers, tracing the artistry with the tip of her thumb. “Is this what you��ve been doing?” She asked, turning to face him, though still looking down at the carving as if she couldn’t tear her eyes away.

“Kinda. Been prepping for the weather too, but most of the time, yeah ‘ve been doin’ this. Happy birthday, firefly.” 

Her head snapped up to look at him, confusion etching her features. “Wait, what? I don’t even know my birthday, how did you–”

He silenced her with his lips moving languidly against hers, his hands falling to her hips, thumb tracing smooth circles against the sliver of skin where her hoodie had risen up a little. 

“I have my ways.” He murmured against her, taking the carving from her hand and placing it down on the table before lifting her against him, her legs instinctively locking around his waist. 

“He found it in the file…” You breathed, the memory fading from view to shelter both you and Jade in muted darkness once again. “From the first time he read it. The first page had all my information, including my date of birth. He didn’t tell me because he didn’t want to bring it up, but I realised after we read it together. That was how he knew.” You explained quietly as Jade’s hand settled on your shoulder.

“You know… he’s out there now. Waiting for you. He loves you so much, Shadow. I know because he looks at you the same way I did.” 

That all too familiar lump started to form in your throat, your hand crossing your front to hold your arm. “He does now but… how can I face him, Jade? Knowing what I’ve done, knowing how much pain I’ve caused. I– I killed you… I ripped you apart and I didn’t even remember doing it.”

Jade’s hands cupped the sides of your face, forcing you to look at her even when you begged to look away. “It was an accident. You saw what they were doing and your subconscious snapped. You felt their pain as your own and you couldn’t fight the urge to save them. I’m not about to hold that against you. Nobody should. You never wanted anyone to go through what we did, and the fact you volunteered for every goddamn mission solidifies that.

“You have saved so many. You have helped so many. And you are cared for by so many. And nobody cares for you more than Logan. You’ll face him because you love him. And you’ll forgive yourself because he forgives you.” Her thumb swiped against a tear sliding down your cheek. “Just like I forgive you.”

Her words splintered through your resolve of self-loathing, shattering every conception you had of yourself and leaving room for something new. Something unfamiliar. 

Hope.

“Now c’mon. This isn’t the only thing I wanted to show you. In case you still need convincing, you have an arsenal of memories to prove me right. And there’s nothing I love more than proving myself right.” She grinned widely, and you nodded, words failing you as she waved her hand again, the colours of your mind swirling and settling to the image of the danger room, and she took your hand again as she showed you every forgotten part of yourself. 

Logan steadied his breathing as your body settled back on the table, the thorns in his body retracting and slinking back into the shadows with your newfound calm. Whatever Jean had managed to do was working, his skin itching slightly as it knitted back together. Though he stayed in place out of fear of making things worse. He didn’t know if approaching you would spark up your torment again, so he stayed still, his knee against the floor, watching cautiously. 

He didn’t know how long it had been since you fell unconscious, but his arms ached to hold you again, to have you pressed against his chest, your face buried in the crook of his neck. He fought every urge to move back to your side, knowing that staying was most likely for the best, and gave you the best opportunity of coming back to him. But that didn’t lessen the longing to feel you. 

“So? Thoughts and prayers?” Jade asked the final memory she wanted to show you fading into the background of your mind. You sighed heavily, unable to deny it anymore. You’d done good in your life. Perhaps not quite enough to outweigh the bad, but you were getting there. She’d shown you the memory of when you first met Marie, forced you to watch as you tried so damn hard to convince her. Sure, you may have failed that time, but that didn’t take away from all the other times you’d succeeded. Besides, she’d found Logan not long after, so that had all worked out for the best anyway.

“Yeah, alright, maybe you were right… just maybe,” you admitted reluctantly, much to the girl’s triumphant laugh. 

“Fucking knew it! Ha-HA! Told you I’d convince you. God, I’m so good at this.” She grinned wildly, and you huffed a fond smile. Though you knew this couldn’t last forever, you were so fucking grateful for the time you’d had with her now. The weight of unspoken words between you had lifted from your chest, though another had settled there.

You had to say goodbye. 

“Jade…” you began, only to trail off instantly. Her grin shrank slightly into something of understanding companionship. Taking both your hands in her own, she squeezed slightly.

“Yeah, I know. Can’t last forever, right? Besides, I don’t think we would have lasted very long anyway. Not if tall, dark and broody had waltzed in a couple years later,” you chuckled tearily, knowing she was absolutely right. 

“I was never blind to how you looked at Ororo, by the way.” You shot back lightly, and Jade shrugged in faux innocence.

“What? She’s gorgeous. Sue me.” She winked again, and a comfortable silence settled between the two of you. “Oh, right. I wanted to give you this. Since you chucked your away and everything and I don’t really need it…” her hands fiddled with the clasp of her necklace behind her, and your heart skipped a beat as the locket fell into her hands, before she placed it in yours and closed your fist around it. 

“I can’t take this.” You muttered, searching her face for anything that would tell you she didn’t want you to have it. But your search came up short. 

“Of course you can. What am I gonna do with it? Not sure it’ll come with you when you wake up, but let’s just give it a go, yeah?” Your breath choked as you saw her own eyes well up, and you realised this must be just as hard for her as it was for you. You wished you could have both. You wished you could take her with you.

But she was just a memory. Sure, she was real, but only in here. 

“Okay…” you nodded slightly, and she tilted your head up with her finger beneath your chin.

“Don’t get stuck in the past. You have a family out there waiting for you. You’re not alone anymore,” tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear, your soul cracked as she started to fade. “Oh, and when you take on Kreva, kick his balls for me, yeah? Bastard deserves what’s coming for him.” She grinned wickedly, and you nodded again, your voice caught in your throat. “Give ‘em hell, Shadow.” 

Jade punched her fist in the air as her image faded completely, the rest of your surrounding mind fading into white.

With a sharp gasp, your eyes flew open, seeing nothing but light before you blinked a couple of times, your vision returning as you registered both Charles and Jean looking a little worse for wear.

“Welcome back.” Xavier smiled tiredly, and you sucked in a breath. You were back. You were home. You remembered everything, from the start of your torture eighty years ago to the moment you lay on the bed. Steadily, you pushed your arm beneath you to rise into a sit, bracing a hand on your forehead as it to stem the slight headache from remembering over a century of memories. 

“You feeling okay?” Jean asked a little hesitantly, leaning against the back of Charles’ wheelchair. You didn’t remember her being in the room when you started, but you guessed what had happened in your mind had been reflected in the conscious world. 

“Yeah… I’m okay.” You responded, cricking your neck to the side before a voice you didn’t know you needed to hear called your name from your left. 

Tears lined your lashes as you took in his appearance. Spots of blood stained his white singlet, a large rip had torn through the knee of his jeans, a bloom of scarlet had drenched the fibres. You didn’t need to ask what happened, you already knew.

But the way he looked at you, terrified hope dancing in his hazel eyes, you couldn’t stop the way your legs swung from the bed and you all but leapt into his arms, holding him so impossibly tight as if he’d disappear into thin air. 

But he wouldn’t. Because this was real. He was real. And just as Jade as promised, he was waiting for you.

“Logan…” you breathed in his scent, comfort blossoming where it wrapped around your heart. And Logan swore he’d never let go of you, not as his hand braced the back of your head, his other pressed against your spine as he held you. And held you.

“Thought I lost you for a minute there,” he tried to play off just how utterly petrified he was when Charles said he was losing you, but the way you nuzzled closer into his neck told him you saw right through him, and he didn’t hesitate to press his cheek to the top of your head. Wordlessly, Charles nodded to Jean, and the two of them silently decided to leave you in peace, closing the door behind them as they left. 

Logan shifted you so you were cradled completely in his lap, your legs straddling his bended knees as he basked in your presence, in your touch. He had you. You were back.

You were home.

“What happened in there?” He asked, his tone hushed as you pulled back slightly, only far enough to look him in the eye, his hand on the back of your head skirting to rest against the side of your face. 

“I was focussing on the shit I’d done…” you explained quietly, leaning into his palm. “I was so wrapped up in the pain I’d caused I couldn’t think of anything else.” 

Logan rested his brow against your own, empathy pulling at the strings of his heart. He knew that feeling so damn well, and to know you had experienced that exact same thing tugged at his very soul, harder than anything your mutation had done to him earlier.

“How d'ya get out of it?”

Only then did you brain register the warmth of metal in your closed fist, the slight dig of a dainty chain in your soft palm. Removing one of your arms from around his neck, you opened your hand in the space between you, a smile of fond disbelief creasing your brow as you looked down at the gold locket nestled in your palm. You didn’t question how it happened. Didn’t question how she’d somehow made something materialise from nothing but your memory. That wasn’t even part of her mutation. 

It was something that wasn’t meant to be questioned, even as Logan’s head tilted in slight confusion. 

“Ran into an old ex.” you said by means of explanation as recognition dawned on his face. He knew he’d seen that locket before, and gratitude filled his chest. He’d never get to meet Jade, but he hoped she knew, somehow, just how thankful he was for her. “She approves of you, by the way.” You grinned, and Logan wondered how he’d gone even this long without kissing you.

“I’ll have to find a way to thank her, then,” he whispered, before pulling you in and sealing his lips to yours, pouring every ounce of sheer, raw love he had for you into the way his tongue danced with yours, savouring how your arm returned around his neck and held him there, your chest pressed against his own, his heart almost reaching out to yours. 

He had you back. 

You were home.

[xo-cod]

https://www.tumblr.com/xo-cod/729110250731520000/you-know-what-i-think-would-be-cute-if-one-of-the?source=share

will u expand on this pls?? esp w simon i love it it's SO CUTE🥰

thank you so much babe :") <33 i just did simon but i can def do the others if you'd like 🤍

continuation from here

cw: abusive past + fluff

"look daddy! that's like you and mum!" her soft laugh of happiness fills his ears and for a minute he just watches her, the shock plastered on his face and then he takes a glance at the tv again. the toys he was placing away in its rightful place was forgotten as he straightened his back, watching the disney characters. they seemed so happy, so in love.

he stood still for a minute, wondering if she was being genuine as he looks back to the little girl who was giggling at him. he didn't have a healthy childhood at home and even as he entered his adult life, nothing but blood, guns and wars surrounded him.

it took him by surprised that lieutenant ghost, the man who knew little to nothing about love and happiness and peace now had a wife and a baby who was growing up in the homes he always wished he could live in as a child.

the only romantic love he could see around him was the abuse his father put his mother through, watching the light dim from her eyes everyday was a sight simon didn't think he could ever forget.

there were some scars that were seared so deep, even after time had run its course the pain was still fresh as ever. he didn't think he would ever heal from the shackles that wrapped themselves so deeply around him, burdens that he had to carry day in and day out in his life all the time. even though being with you had significantly lessened them, there were still moments that made him question everything he ever knew.

so being a father was scary but so exciting. the nerves were bundled up deep inside him, utterly worried that he wouldn't be able to love the child like they deserved. he remembered the night he paced your hospital floor while you were sleeping, full of the medications they were giving. all he could do was helplessly look at you, his heart pounding at the bundle of joy soon to be arriving. could he love them? or did the trauma from his father run incredibly deep that he'd cower away and hide? they were irrational fears, he knew that much. but it didn't help either way, he wanted to be the possible father ever. but how could he do that when he was do broken from his own?

and then his baby was born and he almost gave out, trembling when he held her tiny tiny body in one arm as the hand of the other ever so gently caressed her head. he looked at you with shock, his big brown eyes tearing as he chuckles softly. that was a sight you'd never forget. a sight he could never either

"me an' mama huh?" he spoke softly, his gaze going from the tv to back to his daughter who nods eagerly at him. she's so happy, its enough to make him emotional. because of him, she was safe and loved. because of him, a man who thought he was too damaged beyond repair, had a child who completely adored him and was living happily

she would never know a life full of abuse and suffering, he would make sure of that

he would kill for her, die for her and everything in between yet even so the small niggling voice of doubt filled his head every damn day wondering if he was cut out to be a father. would he change tomorrow, become the abusive intoxicated asshole like the man raised him was? he grew up in a world full of pain and torture and guns, happy things were far and few between.

"you little munchkin, c'mere" he teased softly, holding her in his massive arms as they both cuddle close together. she shrieks in delight when he blows soft raspberries on her cheeks and kissing her forehead. and he only looks at his baby with a look of pure unconditional love, his smile widening at every happy sound she made. even if he never got the love he deserved as a child, the love he received from you and the baby you both created was enough for him.

it was times like this, moments that he cherished so close to his heart <33

[sehtoast]

Wash Away His Sins (Homelander x Reader Smut)

18+ | 1.1k Shower sex, oral sex, mostly lovey with a light dusting of angst. gender neutral reader. | Fic Directory

He realizes it's the light in your eyes that consumes him the most.

The way you dance around him, unknowingly elegant in even your clumsiest moments. You flow through this world like calligraphy given a body.

The way you smile when he comes home. The way your hands find his bloodied cheeks, uncaring if his cruelty stains you.

The way you kiss him. The glint in your eye as you pull away.

"Let's get you cleaned up," you tell him.

And he nods. Lets you, bubbling sunshine that you are, dirty yourself in the viscera of his victims. All just to help him feel better.

There’s been blood on your hands before. But not like him. Not because you lost control. You were a true hero, and he was just…

Himself.

Whatever that may mean…

And yet, you still called him a hero. Reminded him of all the good he’s done– all that he’s capable of. Every time he comes home like this, he worries you’ll hate him. Cast him out, shun him for the unspeakable acts he’s committed with his own two hands.

But you don’t.

You lead him to safety. You wash him, pamper him. Comfort him.

Just like you do now.

Once upon a time, he was afraid to let you see all of him. Shamed by his lack. There was no perfect figure underneath. Those muscles weren’t real– weren’t him.

But you’d soothed those fears so long ago, well before falling into an unnamed relationship that simply couldn’t be less than that of two souls deeply, deeply in love. Where he was cruel, you were kind. The sheer power of your love, your kindness, rivaled the force of his bitterness with ease. In that duel, you always won. Always calmed him, brought him away from the brink.

Hell, you even relax the voice of his alter ego, whose goading was the very reason he was painted red.

He imagines the two of you were born from two stars, perfectly compatible, at opposite ends of the universe. And still, you found each other.

He shuts his eyes as you unzip the suit. The cold of your palm contrasts the near torturous heat contained in that suit. You are like a balm, soothing the fires both inside and out.

You strip him with care, stopping only to start the shower– but not too hot.

You know what they’d done to him in the labs, and you never made him feel irrational for avoiding reminders. He appreciates you endlessly, even if the words may never truly fall from his lips. Caught in his throat every time.

Caught now as you strip and lead him under the stream.

His hands are clean without his gloves, but he still hesitates to touch you. To anchor his hands at your hips while your fingers push through his hair, thick from product and crusted blood. The water runs pink down his back, down your arms, but you don’t grimace.

You don’t look at him differently. Except for when you do.

But that comes after.

After you work suds through his hair. After you lather his body, hands and fingertips dancing over him as though you meant to worship him. Left hand sliding back, fingers dipping down the curve of his rear. Right hand smoothing soap through the curls on his chest, his stomach, hips…

You don’t miss a single spot.

He imagines this is what it’s like to be a deity. To have someone stand before you and revere you.

Love you.

But, as much as he would claim otherwise, he is no deity. No god.

That title falls to you, instead. You are divine, in every sense of the word. You are the warmth of the sun, the beauty of the moon, the power of storms. You are sweetness under the press of his lips, the slide of his tongue. Soft as silk, yet as unbreakable as tungsten.

Your powers afford you the ability to survive him. It is the greatest gift Compound V could’ve ever given him.

It’s why he doesn’t hesitate to grip your waist harder when you finally find him half hard and yearning, pumping slowly. You finish cleaning him first, shower head in your hand to rinse him. Kisses pressed over the expanse of his chest, water sprayed teasingly between his legs.

He bites you when you grasp him again. He’d nuzzled against your shoulder and simply couldn’t help it. Your gasp makes him shiver.

The hand at his cock strokes, and he exhales tightly. His body feels weightless, but not like when he flies. He feels as though he could drift into space, in perfect bliss. Relaxed, comfortable, peaceful.

That is your true power– more than simply what Compound V gave you.

You quell an unfathomable swell of violence that hides within him. You bring light. You bring calm.

You bring love.

Love.

”I love you,” he rasps against your skin, hips pushing to fuck your fist. Your lips find his neck, and you nip and suckle and he yearns for a world in which you can mark him. Claim him just as he does to you. A wavering moan escapes his lips, and he’s close. He has half a mind to hike your leg up and take you, but you fall to your knees before he can finish the thought.

He has to lean against the wall when your lips wrap around him. The sight of you on your knees, worshiping him, his cock disappearing inch by inch into your mouth leaves him panting heavy breaths that steam into the air.

Your name falls from his lips when he nudges the back of your throat, and you just keep taking him. More and more, a hand at his balls, the other splayed over his abdomen.

His eyes roll back, but not before the heat in them sizzles and evaporates the water droplets surrounding them. His hips rock forward, and he’s so close. It would be so easy to grip your head and fuck you with all of his might. You could, after all, withstand him.

But you’re so tender with how you handle him. He wants to return it. Wants to touch and act with love.

So he lets you have full control. A hand petting through your hair as your tongue laves over him. A pinched expression as you send him higher and higher, until he’s teetering on the brink of release and oh, how he needs it. Needs you.

Your name is on his lips when he accepts it and comes. When that hand mindlessly pulls your head closer and he spurts down your throat, groaning loudly as he thrusts shallow.

When he slips free, it is to fall to his knees. To embrace you, to kiss the taste of himself from your lips– lick it from your mouth.

”I love you.”

You say it back, of course. Between kisses, between giggles. His eyes are soft, and the smile that tugs at his kiss bitten lips is more beautiful than any sunrise the cosmos could ever paint.

The water will run cold by the time he returns your love tenfold.

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

request by @brokeaesthetic decided this was probs the best way to go about it 💓

collection of small blurbs for tangerine: reader with fear of spiders, reader pranking him, reader asking what ifs

collection of small blurbs for pietro: reader joking about his hoe phase

— TANGERINE.

wc. 196

People are often one to laugh over your irrational, almost silly fears. In most cases you’re brave - hard as rocks, but the moment you see one of eight-legged insects scatter across your way, you’re out of there. It doesn’t matter how big or small they are, a spider is a spider and you don’t wanna see it.  You’d find yourself calling for your boyfriend, calling in your knight to catch it for you. You hated them, but you’d never kill them. It’s not their fault they’re scary. You’d almost always be out of the room, lingering in the hallway as Tangerine finds and catches the spider in a glass. You would talk to him through the door, pestering with questions - asking if he caught it yet.  He knew never to show you, to only tip the cup out of the window or door - or if it were a spider too large, he’d be keen to take it to the furthest point in the garden, making sure it couldn’t get back in.  Though, he does like it when you need him. He likes to feel needed, even if it’s just to collect a harmless tiny little thing.

wc. 240

Annoying Tangerine was fun, it was easy. Almost anything could piss him off, and often, it was hard not to piss him off. Anything could make him tick, it was just the matter of what way you were going to do it.  In the past, you’d choose to add salt to his tea instead of sugar, or draw on him during the night - often opting for a black, felt-tip goatee or penned, handlebar attachments to his moustache. Sometimes, if you really wanted to annoy him, you’d share how the bikini wax you got earlier that day was from a male cosmetologist. And he’d fall for it every time. But the one that would tick him off most, is when you spoke to him like you were a guy, hitting on him in the crudest ways you could think of.  If he were minding his business, eating a banana while doing work bits on his laptop, you’d always, always say, “what that mouth do, ma?” It was simple, but it never failed to crack you up. Another favourite of yours is to fake bang him when his back is to you, rubbing up on him from behind while you whisper some whacky obscenities.  He’d push you off, calling you a, “fucking freak.” But you wouldn’t let him get the last word because before you let go, you’d call him your good girl, slapping his ass as if to emasculate him further.

wc. 210

Sometimes at night, you’d struggle to sleep - many thoughts swirling your mind. The deep, existential ones were common, but you were far more acquainted with the pestering, silly ones. Random little what if’s popping up. Tangerine would be beside you in bed, settled and almost asleep when you break the silence, asking questions as if there were no filter. Anything ranging from, “Would we still date if we didn’t meet when we did?” or “What if there was a house fire. What would you save first? Like what object or thing would you save?” Often opting to the extremes, like, “If you woke up one day and I wasn’t here, what would you do?” or, “What if I suddenly went deaf and blind, what would you do?” To him, these were silly, pointless questions that are a result of no sleep - but he could always tell they’d mean something to you. Even if it was a stupid thought. So he’d scooch closer to hug you under the covers, soothing over your skin as he sleepily whispers to you - telling you those things will never happen, and that he’d love you no matter what happened to you. Always being sure to punctuate it with the emphasis that you need to rest.

PIETRO.

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It was no secret Pietro had been around. His staggering charm and good looks coming to play when it came to bedding women. In other words, he used to be a whore. A few days ago, you and Pietro were in the discussion of what you both used to be like before meeting one another. You chatted and shared stories of your past lives, and upon hearing one of his encounters, you learnt something new about yourself - realising how quick you are to feel envy and jealousy. He shared how he used to have multiple hook ups a day, describing how he’d meet one in the noon, and then a couple girls together at nighttime. It was like he was finding humour in it, laughing about how much of a slut he was. But you were struggling to find anything funny about his stories and it actually pissed you off more than anything. Possessive and territorial - even though you didn’t know him those years ago. So to retaliate, you told him your exaggerated body count, sharing lies of how every day in the month of September, you slept with a new person - telling him in detail the encounters of these strangers. It was all lies, but it helped with the strikes of jealousy you were feeling.  And so today, he pulled you aside, a quizzical look on his face as approached the topic running rampant in his mind.  “You uh–” he starts, a small chuckle escaping as if to release the nerves. “The other day…” he prompts, waiting for you to give him something. “Yeah,” you nod, also waiting for him to give you something - you had no idea what he meant. He rubs the back of his neck like he was stalling, as if he was having a hard time getting the words out. “When we were sharing stories. Was yours true?” You laugh, caught by surprise. You wildly shake your head ‘no’, unable to stop yourself from the amusement. “God, no,” you pause. “Dude, you pissed me off so I lied.” He chuckles, mirroring you. “I pissed you off?” “Yes. So bad,” you hum, emphasising with a stern nod. “Talking about all those girls– you really bothered me, man.” “Aw,” he playfully coos, the sound almost like he was mocking you. “You got jealous?” he teases, a sly smile slapped across his face. “Shut up,” you fight off a grin, pushing him away when he tries to kiss you. “Get away. You probably have chlamydia.” “Yeah, I caught it from you after you slept with all those people.”

[lamnwar]

"Hey, babe."

"Hm?"

"Do you think we can get a dog?"

Taiga raises an eyebrow at you, facing your pleading eyes, that look on your face he only sees when you ask for him to take you out on a nice dinner.

"Are you serious, babe?"

"Dead serious."

He stares back, thick eyebrows torn in confusion at your sudden request, and one that makes no sense at all since...

"I'm scared shitless of them."

You laugh, a blatant mockery of your boyfriend and his irrational fear of dogs. You've been aware of it for a long time now; from the way he goes the opposite direction of anyone walking their dog on the street and how he stays on his guards every time you hang out at Tetsu's. The sight never fails to amuse you. Can it get more ridiculous than seeing a buff, giant man like your boyfriend shitting his pants in front of a creature which's not even a quarter of his size?

"Come on Taiga, we'll get a small one, maybe something chill like... a corgi?"

"Can't we get a cat?" he replies, still not convinced by, what is to him, an absurd demand.

"I'm allergic, you know that."

He sighs. He doesn't get it - where this sudden demand comes from or what even is the necessity for you to get a pet. As far as he's concerned, the two of you are well enough. So, what more can you seek? Is his company not enough to keep you from loneliness?

"What do you need a dog for, anyways?" he mumbles, a slight childish pout on his face.

You don't reply instantly, your gaze travelling away from his adorable face. The reason for your request is not a mystery to you, yet voicing it out scares you. It's just painfully embarrassing.

"Maybe you'd like a bigger breed? Should we get a German shepherd?"

He clicks his tongue, turning your face towards his, "Answer my question."

You remain silent, still not looking his way. It's not like Taiga would judge you for your reason behind this seemingly random request, but it's more that you don't like what it may reflect of you.

"Hey, babe. Not gonna judge, I'm just trying to understand. Y'know, depending on the answer I might actually be open for negotiation."

You laugh softly, a breathy sigh coming out of your lips as you finally speak, voice little.

"I... I want company so I don't feel alone when you're not home."

Your answer surprises him at first; eyebrows raised as he ponders what you mean by that. For all he knows, he's at home quite often, safe for the few times when he has to play abroad. Taiga's routine, overwise, is constructed so he gets to spend the most time with you. Morning in your arms, making sure he's home to cook a delicious diner for you every evening, and even going to occasionally pick you up earlier just so he has more hours to spend with you. And you are fully aware of it, which makes you feel terrible for being so clingy. You literally have no excuse, when your boyfriend is Taiga Kagami.

"It's stupid, I know." You groan, hiding your face in the palms of your hands.

"Nah pretty, I get it."

"Huh?"

Strong arms pull you towards your boyfriend's warm chest. He keeps you there, in a soft embrace as you feel his laugh rumble in his torso.

"I'd become a househusband if it meant spending all my days with you. So I get it."

"Yeah? Because there's that and also..." you pause, gathering your thoughts. "I wanna take care of something."

This time, though, he doesn't get it at all. You could mean anything by that statement, and for all he knows, it might have everything to do with him, or not. You grimace, not expecting to open up that much from what started off as a rather simple request - well, simple in your book, that is.

"I don't get to take care of you, since you're so independent. But I wanna care for something, have someone be dependent on me. Is that crazy?" you laugh in embarrassment, "shit, my shrink would probably put that on my mommy issues."

In all honesty, Taiga doesn't really know how to respond to that. It's not really that he's at lost for words, as much as he simply cannot comprehend what you are feeling.

He wishes he could though, and after a few minutes of silent reflection, he eventually does. Taiga grew up to be self-sufficient, and ever since you started living together, he's unknowingly started taking care of you, too. It's just a second nature to him, something he does without thinking about it too hard.

"That's why you want a dog, huh? well, I would rather have you take care of me" he says, a tinge of jealousy in his voice.

"Envious of our non-existent dog already, Taiga?" you chuckle.

"Honestly? Yeah."

He sighs, bringing you closer to him as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. You're a bit stunned by the sudden demonstration of affection, but your fingers automatically find his hair, twisting his red locks between them.

"I didn't know you felt like that, babe. But I don't want you to get a dog either. If you wanna take care of someone, take care of me."

You laugh softly, "then start needing me a bit, you do absolutely everything by yourself, s'not fair!"

He pulls away, looking at you curiously. Well, you're not entirely wrong, he clearly doesn't need you to clean after him, cook for him, or do anything of that sort. He even takes care of the spiders and other insects! So really, he doesn't need you for that. But at the same time, he'd argue that you're omitting one crucial thing which just you can tend to.

"Are you stupid? I still need your kisses. Want me to be more needy for them? I could absolutely do that!" he leans in again, face so close that you feel like he's taking your air all for himself. "Kiss me, I'm begging."

You stare back in surprise, flustered by his sudden request. Yet, some part of you feels warm by hearing these words. Maybe you do crave him begging for you, for anything that only you can provide.

Your lips find his softly, drawing a hum of satisfaction out of your boyfriend. If he's being a 100% honest with himself, he'll gladly admit craving your touch more than anything else. He leans in, grabbing the back of your neck almost in desperation, almost as if he wants to gobble you in. You giggle, pulling away and leaving a playful pat on his hair. Lovestruck eyes stare at you, making your heart bloom in a thousand of flowers.

"See? No need for a dog. I'll always need you for kisses."