#ch: Darlin

[brainrottingg]

Darlin: Cheating is so fun. I love cheating! If you’re not cheating what are you even doing??

Sunshine: Have you ever been cheated on before?

Darlin:

Darlin: ...I forgot some people were in relationships. To be clear, I enjoy violating academic integrity on exams

[frudoo]

Mountain Man!Price save me… save me…

Warnings: SMUT. Unprotected PIV, creampie ofc y’all know me. Also mentions of guns + hunting deer. Fem!Reader.

MDNI

“You see that one there?” John’s voice is low but not quite a whisper, using his pinky finger to point out a huge buck a couple hundred yards away from where the two of you are planted on the ground.

“Yeah,” You reply softly, keeping a watchful eye on the creature as it takes a drink of water from the creek.

“That’s who we want. Get a dozen meals offa him, easy,” he responds, pulling back from the scope to look back at you with a grin. “Wanna give it a go?”

Your eyes widen and you laugh softly, shaking your head. When you agreed to join him on his hunt, you were under the impression that you’d be acting as moral support, not as an accessory to… deer murder. You’ll cook the meat all day long, but actually killing the poor thing is a far different story.

“Nope, all yours, sugar,” You huff, glancing back at the big buck who was now feasting on a berry bush.

“C’mon, love, ‘fore we miss him,” John insists, lifting his arm and beckoning you closer with a jerk of his head.

You sigh heavily, scrunching your face as the dangling strands on the sleeve of his ghillie suit tickle you. He readjusts the rifle until the heel rests on your shoulder, gently explaining how to rest your head until your eye meets the scope and you can see through it clearly. Suddenly, the tattoos on his biceps make a lot more sense—what you thought were nonsensical spheres and lines are actually a common perspective for your man.

“Yeah, perfect. Don’t let him outta your sight, I’m just gonna…” John trails off, carefully bringing his arm back down and climbing partially on top of you. “Sorry, darlin’, it’s easier for me to show you this way.”

He positions your hand around the grip and your pointer finger on the trigger, then switches off the safety. Once he’s ensured that everything is properly structured, John rests his chin on your shoulder opposite of where the gun is. Your breath hitches in your throat as you try your hardest to keep your attention on the deer, but it’s hard when your husband’s hot breath is blowing against your face and his weight is pressing into you from above.

You try to get back in the zone by adjusting your body, but only succeed in pushing your ass back against his crotch. The low groan that emits from his throat makes you whimper and repeat the action, earning yourself a tut into your ear.

“Focus, baby, or we don’t eat for the next week,” John warns through gritted teeth, desperately holding himself back from grinding up against you.

Biting your lip, you allow your eye to focus on the deer once again, watching him strut to the next bush covered in vibrant red berries. The buck chomps down on a cluster of fruit gracefully, chewing slowly, unaware of the bullet you plan to shoot right into his heart. You suck in a deep breath, slowly start to press down on the trigger, but before you get the chance to fire, a pair of familiar lips attach to your neck hungrily. Your fingers clench out of instinct and the rifle goes off, but instead of hitting its target it buries itself somewhere in the dirt while the buck sprints away to safety.

Gasping, you drop the gun and push it away from you, turning your head back to look at John with furrowed eyebrows. His face is flushed beneath the streaks of green and black paint he had you smear across his skin, eyes wild with the telltale glint of lust.

“John, I had him! Why-”

“Fuck the deer,” He growls, no longer attempting to push down his desires and instead covering your body entirely with his own. “Got my own pretty, wide-eyed doe right here.”

John grasps your throat and tilts your head back so that his mouth can hastily smash against yours. His tongue shoves its way past your lips, tasting your shock, devouring the unspoken questions that dissolved before they got the chance to slip out. You don’t hesitate to kiss back, eyelids falling shut as his big hands glide between your body and the dewy grass to fumble with your cargos. The button snaps a little harsher than it should and you already know you’re gonna need to sew a new one on when you get back to the cabin.

“Fuck, your cunt’s already so damn wet,” John exhales heavily as he pulls your pants and knickers down just past your hips, exposing your ass and the glistening slick that’s collected between your thighs. “My cock’s just gonna slip right in.”

You whine at that, arching your back in invitation. John hisses and smacks one of your asscheeks hard enough to sting his palm. He chuckles at the little squeal you let out before sitting up on his knees and shoving down the pants of his ghillie suit just enough to expose his dick. It’s already throbbing, fully erect and dripping pearls of precum onto your raw skin. He glides the engorged tip through your warm folds before sliding home in one deep thrust.

The two of you shudder in sync as he bottoms out, hitting the barrier of your cervix with a blissful, dull pinch. John wraps one arm around your neck, allowing you to rest your head on his bicep as he holds himself up with his opposite elbow.

“Fuckin’ deep, ain’t it?” He grunts, punctuating each word with a strong pump of his hips.

“So deep,” you confirm with a gurgle, cheeks completely squashed between the fat and muscle of his bicep and forearm. “Feels so good, John.”

“I know it does, my sweet doe.”

Every thrust is devastating, the veins and ridges of his fat cock rubbing perfectly against the sensitive walls of your tight pussy. Raspy groans fall from his lips and echo into your ear as he nibbles on the lobe, the sound of skin on skin ricocheting throughout the busy woods along with your pretty moans. The head of his dick punches against that rough spot that makes you scream, and he chuckles, angling his hips so that he can make you see stars over and over again.

“That’s right, love, scream for me. Let the fuckin’ mockingbirds hear you, so every single soul that comes through here knows how pretty you sound when I make you cum. Yeah, just like that, baby, sing for me, sing for the birds.”

His words encourage you to obey, your cunt clamping down on him like it’s trying to keep his cock inside permanently. Rivulets of slick cream cling to every inch of his dick as he buries his face in your neck, uncaring of how the strands of his ghillie suit brush against your skin, overwhelming your senses. With a final thrust, he pushes himself deep and releases his potent load into your willing womb, spurts of his seed painting your walls an off-white.

Once the two of you have calmed down, breathing evening out, John gently pulls out and shimmies your panties and cargos back up your hips, effectively keeping his cum contained. He moves from on top of you and stands, pulling his own pants up and tucking away his spent cock, then throws the rifle over his back. You’re utterly useless, laying on the grass and mumbling something incoherent. Your lover just chuckles and scoops you up into his arms, carrying you back to the cabin, safe, warm and definitely planning to have leftover soup for dinner once again.

(When he returns to the woods the next day for a successful hunt without your distracting presence, he hears an awfully familiar call from a certain bird in one of the trees.)

[fyodior]

MY TURN!

✩ pairing: dazai x afab reader x chuuya

✩ cw: threesome, rough sex, spanking, creampies, breeding kink, dirty talk, oral (m receiving), fem pet names, dubcon-ish, UNGODLY amounts of cum

✩ notes: breedtober fic 1 !! this concept has been brewing in my head for a WHILE. enjoy!

✩ wc: 1.6k

want more of breedtober?

it all started with an argument, that led to a dare - one you didn’t have the pleasure of being present for or aware of. 

who can get her pregnant first? 

or rather,

if we both fuck her, whose sperm will take?

you had messed around with both dazai and chuuya more than once - both under the incredibly persuasive influence of chuuya’s finely aged wine, and under no influence at all. unless you count the insatiable and unbearable lust for the two men who made no effort to conceal their desires for you. but you’d never fucked them both at the same time

and this plan - it was a disgusting, vile, deplorable plan, especially under the guise of just a good, fun night. ‘let’s just pass around a bottle of chardonnay and see where the night goes,’ they had said, despite knowing exactly where the night was going to go. but fuck did it feel good. 

“ch-chuuya,” you moaned, stuttering as he fucked you mercilessly from the back. one hand dug deep into the plush of your hip to pull your ass back against him, meeting every one of his thrusts, while the other slapped your ass so hard you shivered each time. 

the sound of skin-on-skin filled the bedroom as he bottomed out with every thrust, burying his entire cock in you until the ginger puff of hair at the base tickled against your skin. 

“yeah, darlin’? that feel good?” he smirked, picking up the pace and rewarding you with yet another harsh spank. 

and you wanted to scream, wanted to cry out a yes, yes! chuuya, harder! but, you couldn’t, and dazai made sure of that by pushing your head down rather hard as you sucked him off.

having been so distracted with the way chuuya fucked you good and deep, you truthfully weren’t paying attention to dazai’s cock, and it drove him to a level of anger and possessiveness, almost jealousy, he can’t remember the last time he felt. and he normally wasn’t a head pusher - he really wasn’t, but he wasn’t about to lose to chuuya. 

you had only been indulging in occasional kitten licks and sucking on dazai’s angry red tip, as every time you tried to venture farther, chuuya seemed to angle his hips differently or spank you hard to pull your attention back to him, and dazai could not and would not have that. 

saliva and precum poured off your bottom lip as dazai fucked your throat in time with chuuya’s thrusts. you choked and gagged as he gripped your hair and thrust up into your mouth, grunting wildly as your throat tightened and spasmed around his aching length. 

“you have no fucking clue how sexy you look right now, doll, swallowing my cock, taking it so fucking good,” dazai smirked, tightening his grip on your hair. chuuya rolled his eyes.

dark streaks of mascara stained your cheeks from your tears, a sight that only drove dazai even madder, and one chuuya was getting more and more jealous of. but he knows there was no reason to - not yet, at least. he had the center stage, the spotlight on him as a hand snaked down underneath you to massage your throbbing, neglected clit as he fucked you hard and deep. and his cum was what was going to fill your cunt first, allowing him to succeed in their fucked up little dare - he was more than sure of it. just the thought of it, alongside the way you clenched deliciously around his length, was pushing him over the edge.

“shit, baby, gonna cum,” chuuya muttered right into your ear as he draped his chest over your back, kissing up your neck. “want me to fill up your pussy? breed you like a bitch in heat?” he was going to regardless of your answer. dazai scoffed, but chuuya ignored him easily.

you likely would’ve protested, and indeed had the thought to instruct chuuya to pull out, but your mouth was too busy for you to do anything but gasp as thick ropes painted the walls of your cunt a milky white. he made sure to press his cock in all the way inside you and tilt your hips down, the tip brushing against your cervix, to ensure his cum seeped right into your ready and waiting womb. and you couldn’t be mad about it - not when he continued to whisper dirty, filthy words into your ear as he played with your clit.

“my turn,” dazai smirks, tugging at your hair to prompt you to pull off his still aching hard-on. you finish up with a long lick on the underside of his cock along the pulsing vein, smiling up at him as you breathe heavily. 

truthfully, your pussy already felt too used and abused from chuuya, but you were starting to ache for dazai too. luckily, the man was happy to oblige.

chuuya begrudgingly pulled out to allow dazai to take his turn, regretting not just beating his ass and taking you for himself, filling you with his cum and his cum only. 

repositioning you to lay you down on your back, dazai smiled at you, playing up his irresistible charm before leaning in to press a long kiss to your lips. “gonna make you all fucking mine, pretty girl,” he smirks, voice low and gravely. “make you beg for my cum this time, yeah?”

you could only whine in response, yearning for him - at this point you had no fucking clue who you wanted more, but it had stopped mattering. when they both were treating you like this.

“hurry it up, dumbass,” chuuya muttered, arms crossed as he sat on the edge of the bed. he had an idea for what he wanted to do with you as dazai took his turn, but he couldn’t get to it with dazai yammering in your ear like that. 

“don’t worry, doll,” dazai sighed, caressing your cheek. “he’s just jealous.”

“the fuck i am,” chuuya gripes, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“just fuck me, dazai, please,” you whined, gripping his bandaged arms. and there’s no way he could say no to that.

spreading your legs wide, he lined up his cock before sinking into you easily, already stretched and prepped from your previous round. it was a conscious choice not to acknowledge how he was using chuuya’s cum as lube.

 having already been picturing this moment since they dragged you into bed, dazai built up a pace fast, and you curled your legs around his waist to ground yourself as he jostled you around. 

“so fucking tight, baby,” he gasped, gripping your waist. “i know you wanna take my cum so fucking bad, fill your pussy ‘til it can’t hold any more.” he was nearly babbling to himself at that point, mind reeling with how good you felt. 

“shut it, shithead,” chuuya hissed, deciding it was his time to join in. he’d never, ever admit it, but he was getting impossibly turned on watching dazai fuck you senseless, and his dick was already chubbing up at the sight. and the way you moaned and screwed your face tight, shit.

climbing over you, chuuya placed his knees on either side of your head to hover over you, his heavy cock right in front of your face. 

“y’re gonna take it just like this, darlin’,” he smirked gripping his length and prodding at your lips with the tip. it was a bit like trying to hit a moving target with how hard dazai was fucking you, but chuuya didn’t give a shit. he just needed to feel your mouth.

despite your poor throat already feeling bruised and sore, you opened up willingly, digging your fingers into his toned thighs in a feeble attempt to stabilize yourself. dazai only glared as chuuya lowered himself further to allow you to suck in his cock, wishing he had chosen that position himself. he chose not to let chuuya get to him though, just pushed your thighs further apart to allow better access. 

“that’s right, baby, take it all in,” chuuya coaxed as you choked on his girth but persevered anyway. his thighs burned a bit due to the unnatural squatting position, but he couldn’t care less - he was already embarrassingly close to cumming down your throat. 

dazai loathed the fact that you weren’t paying much attention to him at all, deciding to spit on his fingers and rub quick circles around your clit, making you gasp and moan around chuuya’s cock. 

“feel good?” he smirked, massaging it in time with his thrusts. 

you desperately wanted to respond, encourage the man touching your sweet spot, but chuuya commanded all your attention as he started to fuck your throat.

and in the same way chuuya couldn’t help but be turned on by dazai’s cock driving you mad, dazai was nearing his high hearing how you gagged and gurgled on chuuya’s length. the warning of his oncoming orgasm just barely left his lips before he was groaning and stuffing you with his seed this time. the tight clamp of your thighs around his waist tightened and your toes curled as you felt the hot cum leak out of you while his fingers pulled you closer to your own high. 

you had never felt so full in your life - dazai’s cock still buried in your cunt alongside two heavy loads of cum, and chuuya’s cock stuffing your mouth, alongside his hot cum sliding down your throat. 

the two men eyed each other knowingly as they wiped your spent body clean, washing away all the splattered cum minus the loads that seeped out of you - and maybe dazai even used two fingers to push it in a little deeper. 

both incredibly cocky men, they were both certain it would be their seed that took - but they’d have to wait nine months and see. 

[spurbleu]

rendezvous

ch.1 mother’s advice

[ johnny ‘soap’ mactavish x f!stripper!reader ]

▅︎▅︎▅︎▅︎▅︎▅︎▅︎▅︎▅︎▅︎▅︎▅︎▅︎▅︎▅︎▅︎▅︎▅︎▅︎▅︎▅︎▅︎

S. mother left you with very little aside from her cat, calloused advice, and a legacy at your local brothel.

warnings. shameless men, customers service industry, mentions of abuse

a/n: lore drop and y'alls first meeting :) again, slowburn so be patient

word count: ~3.2k

‧︎༚︎☉°︎༚︎‧︎༚︎✳︎☉︎︎°︎‧︎༚︎‧︎

“Only eva’ let the good lookin’ ones get dirty wich ya, darlin,”

your mama had said rather plainly one night as you fixed her tea, voice coarse under cigarette,

“no use ina ugly fuck.”

Strange, how the only good advice she had given you (alive, at least. plenty of lessons from her dead), was about sex. She’d never been gentle enough with your hair to elicit the idea she might be with her words (but being a daughter meant you hoped). So, when you buried her, outdated ramblings and boorish tongue, most of what you took with you was boneless.

You packed the vulgar with the rest of the house, strapping it to the back of your truck and hoping it would nestle in the tobacco-less walls of your new apartment (a different shade of yellow- little kinder- absent of bile). Or maybe the newer wooden floors, eroded under boot heel, sturdy still.

On arrival you discovered it had found a less subtle home. Must have been some twisted fate (a mother’s memory- hardly sweet), that your new apartment was neighbors with your town’s brothel.

Funny, how a broke, orphaned woman like yourself, sun bleached elbows and sore neck, was given an opportunity to finally test the merit of a mother’s advice.

The withering building paralleled one of her last gifts to you, a lingerie set. Old brick red, lace trim gauze between blocks. Thick straps bridging bralette to panties like the iron beams holding up a raunchy sign- Rendezvous.

Stench of sex fogged up greasy windows, drunk mumblings of wifeless (or, a more depressing thought, married) men on its porch, wearing crucifixes in bogus devotion. The oak beneath their leather was rusting by their print of dust and the grooves beneath a bottle of beer- sorrel glass broken at the foot of creaky stairs.

Recently, your old church pews found their way back to your mind. You pushed the last of your boxes through the door, knees blushing purple with guilt. No, you had decided upon arrival- you wouldn’t even look at the place.

Pig stye, you’d convinced yourself, whore house. You turned your nose to it all, prissy and ornery even as they whistled from the railings, red knuckles itching for your attention. Hasty for the day they’d see you in dusk light, starting your shift. Only for you to leave them, day after day, cockdumb and unsatisfied.

And you had been doing so well, too.

That was until you opened the envelope- your mother’s allowance. The one useful thing that the drunken, deceased mess of a women could’ve given your hopeless soul. Magnum Opus of her faulty motherhood, forgiven with just some fucking money.

But she was always more complicated than that, wasn’t she. Peaking from the back of the white fold was, indeed, that wonderful, faded green of cash- but in front of it was a depressing beige- capitalized by black ink.

Girl,

Leave this apartment to you, take care of the old thing. That brothel knows me likes me; they’ll give you a job. Make yourself some real money, use my looks, darling. Be good. without me

Much love,

Mother.

You tossed the note aside before your hungry fingers tore the dip of the paper apart- revealing, and you counted a dozen times to be sure, sixteen dollars.

Sixteen dollars is what you’re worth. Cheap cattle at a fair, squalid men drooling as your mother snickers. Your scrawny legs buckled under the weight of the gold bell- which, you’ve now discovered, costs more than you do.

You’d be angrier if you were surprised. But you weren’t. Hell, sixteen wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been- with the way her money was spent on dozens of those cancer packs a day, cig smoke stealing your wages one stick at a time.

You plucked up her note, reading between the pen’s blood to find anything else. Searching, like you had in her for decades, for a little more. A secret message between your fiber taught liaison, written in the tone she had used with you (old spice on dry meat) up until she couldn’t anymore. You could hear it now, reading the note to you, and suddenly you were five again, tugging at her shawl as sleep nipped the last pages of your Goodnight Tales.

You didn’t fail to notice the way she signed it, either. Mother. You had always opted for the simpler, casual name, ‘mama’. It felt truer to what she was, an apparition of a parent spared by a younger nostalgia- lacking the reliance, the respect, of an actual mother.

Yet another opinion where the both of you seemed to diverge.

No, of course you weren’t surprised.

But you were now extremely aware she had limited your options to the worst one. No southern shop, built on dirt and sweat, was going to take a labor virgin without a foot in the door. Which meant the only place desperate enough to take soft, vestal hands and good hair was that ratty brothel.

So, stubborn oxen halting actual progress, you watched the bar for a week.

Perched on a chair by the sill, the last bags of honey tea in your cup as you observed the lulls in its busy. That way, when you eventually forced your ass from the dips it made in the old seat, you’d walk to the door with as little shame as possible.

As you scurried across the street at dawn, sunrise made the old cobble appear prettier than it was. Light finding the gaps between stone, serenity’s veil cast over the Dutch Gables in early morning. The birth of day scared off the grimier patrons, leaving you in the barren womb to watch it’s first breath. You paused there, relishing the one time the small market looked…worth it.

Seconds after you slide through the saloon doors, barely given enough time to drink up the sandy lighting and timber walls, a voice calls from behind the bar.

“We’re closed.”

She’s a natural blonde, you can tell by her lighter roots. Freckles contour a round face under eye bags- and you even catch the subtle crease of crows’ feet next to her grey eyes- blemished and old. Her lips screwed into what you think might be a permanent frown- that is until you speak,

“I’m here to apply.”

and it turns into a snarl, skin pitching at the bridge of her nostril, “We ain’t hirin’.”

Your mother’s note comes back to you, and you loosen the resentment in your voice as you say her name. “I’m her daughter. ‘Said I- you’d let me work here.”

The wrinkle laxed, and her snarl came down to a thin neutral line. “Did she finally kick the bucket?”

You nodded, unsure how to feel when her lips curled. “Damn. Y’had a firecracker of a mother. Worked alongside ‘er iner prime. Solid woman,” her eyes ran up your shoulders, “terrible mother, I reckon.”

You swallowed- she grinned. Her hand beckoned you to the stools, and you took a seat, shaking her outstretched hand. “You got ‘er looks. You’ll do fine ‘ere. Names Francesca.” Her eye narrowed to slits, “Nobody calls me Franny. Its Francesca, or Miss- got it?”

You nodded, and she flashed you another glimpse of her yellow teeth.

“I’ll start ya at the bar. See ‘ow long ya last.”

-

Turns out, you lasted a lot longer than she thought you would.

Swatting advances away as you gave patrons bottles, but smart enough to never get mouthy. You caught more flies with honey anyhow- so as your boots became comfortable in the mop-clean lumber floors, you’d occasionally entertain some of them.

“You single, sweetheart?” Slurred from a regular as you filled his tab. Grisly looking fellow, got years on you. Too many to be talking.

“Enough to work here.” You slid him a drink with a smile. Syrup on a glass rather than salt. The spread of his lips was telling- he tasted it.

Boisterous laughter- too loud to want just liquor- “’nough to sit on an old man’s lap?”

No. Not enough that they thought they’d get lucky- but that was the trick, wasn’t it? Just barely easy enough to send them wily looks over your shoulder, cover the spite in your voice with flirts- onion layered by a blushing red skin- weak enough that it kept them hoping. But never truly easy, moving to the next customer before the last could lean for a fat kiss.

You rolled your eyes with your back turned to him, jaw clicking in thin patience.

“Not over here. That’s for the other rooms.”

His eyes followed your pointer finger, attention sinking its dull teeth into the cardinal doors.

You pretended not to mind your position as the face of the brothel rather than the body of it. Why would you anyway? You’re sure the girls back there would kill for an easy job like yours- given the chance to politely navigate around advances rather than being forced to feed them. You only had to serve the dry slacks- and watch them as they left soiled. You didn’t have to see- no, make- that filthy in-between.

Church taught you enough. Nothing but festering confessionals behind that door.

But goodness, could you be childish. Curious mind, insecure heart- all of you greedy. You were positive they made bushels more than you- and all for some more skin, done up hair and lidded eyes?

You could do that.

Bitter, confusing envy. Makes you mad when Francesca gave you a hard no after asking for a promotion- but sorry as you curl in thin sheets before dreamless slumber.

(Did your greed weigh more than morals? Did church and your father’s absence teach you that little? Nothing should be this existential- but maybe that’s why it’s uprooting. Forked road- giving up a part of you either way.

You hate to admit you buried something of your own with your mother’s body, but what you hate more is that it’ll take this decision to figure out just what it was. Your innocence- daughterhood and a sweet virtue, or your hearth- the fight to survive and earn. Living for a little vice.

You’d dream in saturation on these nights, colors crisper than they’ve ever been- even young. You were never sure why the colors were so bright.)

So here you are, another night drawn as a sloppy line under a bar, marking…3 months? Sunrise and sunset look so similar nowadays, and it made the silhouette of an hourglass harder to etch in the tan pages of your moleskin.  

However, it did give you more time to sketch out the pub.

The booths pulled the same wood of the wall forward in a curved seat, split by a table and cushioned by yellow pillows- filled with rice, those damn things must have been harder than the booths themselves.

Around them, dark oak tables and creaky chairs- makes any working man feel ten pounds heavier with the way they whine when sat on. A candle and 3 coasters in the center of every round table, beckoning more drinks as the day died. In fact- those wax sticks were everywhere along the tavern- even in a chandelier that dangled above the liquor shelf, occasionally dripping hot tears on the bar.

Just the kind of place you’d expect to see the men you do.

Seedy- dusting in the corner of your bar are built scrawny- diet of yeast and grass evident in the hollow of their back. Mouths they hide from their mothers, hands that hit harder than their fathers. But in the redness of their cheeks- bloated by the sun and the contents you served them- was a weakness.

Masculine insecurity that had them calling you a ‘pretty bitch’. A compliment, but derogatory enough their clam tongue wasn’t revealed under the folds of their shell. No pearl, no wealth- just a common, beached, animal.

“’nother round, for mah fellows, baby.”

You glanced up. Sullen face, grey beard- twisted lips that cracked under ale. He flashed crooked teeth, and you strained a smile, forcing the tired plump of your cheeks to spread. You slipped your journal beneath the bar, taking his cups and filling them until the clouds of foam kissed the rim.

He flipped a couple coins on the counter, and you slid them into your palm.

You sighed, running your tongue along the cast of your teeth. Late hours were so boring- never new- repetitive that even the loud, sudden laughter from that back corner didn’t phase you anymore.

There were no more surprises- because everyone was here.

Ned and his calloused farmer men. Not too much of a hassle, sat in the back and called you names- but let you work. Callum and his wallowing ass in the center tables, nursing his umpteenth glass of the evening ever since his wife left.

And Silas- sweet boy- young and excited to drink. He’s more often than not by himself, drunk silly as he draws. You liked him more than the rest- brother feeling about him. Kinder.

So, it surprises you when the bell rings, well into the night, and he walks in.

Brutish arms- hung by shoulders that nearly reach the door frame. The rest of him was just as big- military fed, you had to assume. Strong jaw, buzzed skull except for a well-trimmed bush down the center. He stood out like a sore thumb, the slender builds of farmer boys a third of the bull that stood in front of you.

You weren’t the only one who noticed, as you heard the laughter behind you hush and Callum’s wallowing come to a lull. He didn’t seem to mind- especially as he made his way to the bar- eyes and smile beguiling- and directed at you.

Now you weren’t easily charmed- but you knew a handsome man when you saw one. It’s the particular weight on their shoulders- making their feet come down heavier and gate smooth.

Nothing wrong with looking at them- just as long as you don’t get too comfortable. Just because they’re clams with nicer shells, maybe even a pearl between clean teeth, doesn’t mean they’re any less washed up.

“Welcome. What can I get’cha tonight.” You offered him the same smile you gave everyone.

“Aye. A pint ‘il do.”

The thick arches of gaelic in his voice caught you off guard. Deep timbers, pine rooted in his throat, leaves lime with humor. It pooled in the back of your mouth- an aftertaste you found yourself liking.

You filled his glass, rolling the shock off your shoulders. “We don’t get many scots ‘n here.”

He chuckled as you handed him a glass, blue eyes unwavering as he took a sip. “Nae? Though’ it’da be fool of ‘em.”

He pulled a genuine laugh out of you- the sound of sarcasm familiar- comforting. “What brings you here.”

“Work.” He said plainly- but the twitch on his knuckle told you he wanted you to ask more.

“Military?”

“What gave ye tha’ idea?”

You hummed, eyes running up his shoulders. You didn’t miss how they squared, conscious under your gaze. “You don’t look like a farmer. Too much of you.”

“Aye, ere’s neva too much of me, darl.”

You sucked in your bottom lip. Charmer.

“So, you are military, then?”

“Yes ma’am.”

You idled your hands with one of the many dirty glasses that blistered under old soap studs and dried foam. The rags bumpy fabric prickled your fingers- enough to keep them from trembling when he spoke.

“What branch of the military brings you out in the middle of nowhere?”

“Most of em.”

Your lips thin to an embarrassed line. Right, of course. “I…guess I’m really asking what branch you are.”

He took another swing of his beer, and you watched as he tipped his jaw back- revealing the catch of his throat as he swallowed. Must have been on purpose- show off.  “SAS. On leave, yer place looked tidy,” his eyes gave you a once over, “good tae see ’m right.”

Turning to set the glass down gave you an excuse to avoid his eyes. Demin blue but not casual, deep-set and sharp. Military grade, you could tell by the way they really saw. Accessing you, ran up the hunch of your spine and the click of your wrist- aiming to find spare bullets and threats.

He’d come up empty, though. No, not in you. All he’d find was the jump of your heart against your cervical.

“Mmm,” you offered, “Its cute, I’ll give it that much. Good for the drinks.”

He nodded, “’N maybe somethin more…”

These are the moments when your mother’s voice comes back to you. Thick spit, coarse hair- tangled and suffocating- your lungs sting almost as much as the red print on your cheek.

“Foolish child.”

Your back was turned, so you thought maybe you’d finally been tempting enough to something pretty. That the lilt in his voice, the gravel as it went an octave deeper, accent blooming under light o’s and rolled r’s- meant for your company.

That maybe, the looks you had been told were your only asset, had finally done some good.

You were left disappointed when you turned back around, cheeks a hopeful rose, when his eyes had left you. Instead, past your shoulder, to the red doors.

You’d never seen what was actually behind them, Francesca made sure of that. You could only assume it was the collection of every mans desire painted pretty- shelves of toys, women in bright, expensive lingerie, red lips on rum ones. A childish image, really, but what else were you to do?

In a way, you were just as desperate to get behind those doors as every man here. Not necessarily in the same way- not to satisfy some sick desire, dig up a buried, old arousal that their poor wives didn’t anymore.

No, for you it was to satisfy your own insecurity. Hungry creature, eager to prove and ready to sweat. To be something- pretty, ugly, didn’t matter. As long as you had a place there, you’d be rich.

“Oh, yes,” you let your customer smile come back, editing the script you were given in your head, “pretty gals over there. If you wanted a-“

“Ye work tere?”

You choked on nothing. “What?”

“Do ye work ‘n ta brothel?”

Genuine curiosity. Maybe he was hiding something else behind thin lips, but the question came out too casual for its boldness that you wouldn’t’ve caught it. You found yourself unsure in your own body, standing stiff as your bones questioned whether to lean, sit, or run.

You chose none of the three, and instead you spoke.

“No.” Not yet. You wanted to add. He hummed, taking a last swig of his pint before placing the cup on the table with a…hefty tip. You opened your mouth to say something, but when your eyes met his you were quickly hushed.

Ripped denim, now razor blue. The yellow of the lights seemed to bring it out, and if you weren’t confident he had killed a man, you were now.

“Shame,” he said, standing, “Such a bloody waste.”

[yanxidarlings]

YANDERE TWD

REUNITED (yandere! big brother! merle dixon x male reader x yandere! big brother daryl dixon) (yandere! gareth x male reader) (rick grimes x male reader if you squint) NOTES: fair warning, this is some descriptive disturbing shit merle dixon counts as a warning on his own as well. this went in many directions i originally set out for yandere headcanons for the two, then got into the terminus arc, and ended with some pretty vague alluding to yandere. might write a part two)

imagine obsessive! possessive! big brothers! merle and daryl dixon. the dead begin to walk and they keep the darlin safe, meeting up with the atlanta camp. but the brothers won't let anyone get close to the darlin, not dale, not carl, certainly not shane or lori.

somehow, the darlin ends up going with glenn into the city on a supply run, only for it to go horribly wrong. the darlin insisted they head into a chemist to "look for medications" in case anyone in the camp needed them. but it was a lie. the darlin just wanted to find something to help merle with the inevitable withdrawal he'd go through once his supply of drugs ran out. the chemist is overrun by walkers but the darlin insists. "we can clear it!" they say to glenn "it'll be worth it for m- everyone" the korean gave the other a skeptical look. in the end, there was just too many, glenn thought he saw the darlin go down and reluctantly returned to camp.

"oi! shitface, you think you're a big boy now? can do whatever you want now everything's gon' to shit!" the raspy, harsh voice of merle dixon echoed through the camp. the redneck tramped over to the SUV glenn was parking. he remained silent as he turned the engine off. taking a deep breath, the young man exited the car, staring at the grass.

the older dixon stormed over, aggressively opening every door of the vehicle until he reached the boot. filled with supplies. "where the fuck is m/n" he growled, coming closer to the asian "he better be pullin up in another car" merle spat out. "i- it was" glenn stuttered out, looking like he was about to piss his pants "it wasn't my fault, m/n was being reckless, i had no cho-" CRACK glenn's face was soon bloodied and bruised, merle now on top of him, yelling out profanities as he beat the younger man. "merle!" the others quickly ran to pull the redneck off glenn.

"you fucking ch*ng-ch*ng bastard i'll rip-" merle was pried off glenn, who was now rolling around in agony, his face a bloody mess. "what the fuck happen'd" merle rasped out, although to glenn it sounded like a croak "where is he" merle was still being held back by t-dog and shane as he continued yelling. glenn avoided the rednecks furious gaze "the walkers got him" he finally spoke, looking down.

for a moment it looked like merle was about to cry, for a moment merle himself thought he was going to burst into tears like a sissy. "no he ain't" but instead he picked up his shotgun, and got into the drivers seat of the SUV.

that was how andrea, t-dog, jackie, glenn and morales ended up in the city. that was how merle got handcuffed to a roof by "officer friendly" and that was why daryl yelled in agony on that same roof. in the course of a day, he had lost the two most important people in his life.

but merle had survived by cutting off his left hand, and the darlin had survived by covering himself in walker guts.

"china- no- glenn- don't- help!" the h/c-et screamed, the sound of his own gun firing defeaning his ears. as one went down, another lunged at him, rotten teeth clanking together, desperately trying to knaw into his flesh. but he wouldn't die here. he couldn't. not when merle was 'relying' on him to get drugs. maybe then, the dixons would start to treat him as less of a clueless child and more of an equal.

after taking down a few, m/n jumped behind the counter, rummaging through the medications, looking for anything that might help with the withdrawal, or better, give merle his next fix. more of the dead came at him, but he just kept shooting, stabbing, hitting, anything to cause the fatal damage needed to end the dead's miserable 'life'.

BANG one was down BANG another BANG BANG BANG .. the slide didn't move forward as he shot his way through another round. shit. he was out of ammo "glenn!" he yelled out as a walker fell on top of him, wrestling it's way closer to his skin. all the korean could hear was m/n's screaming. which only attracted more walkers. he saw the medicine that m/n had thrown over the counter before going down, stuffing it into his bag, he creeped up closer to the group of walkers that had acculumated, following the sound of m/n's scream. until it stopped. "m/n?" he uttered under his breath, but the pile of walkers on top of each other told him the other was dead. with tears in his eyes, glenn ran out.

m/n struggled against the strength of the walker. it was freshly turned, he could tell. otherwise it wouldn't be so strong. kicking, punching, reaching for his knife, anything to save himself from becoming one of them. plunging his blade into the side of the walkers head, he quickly slit the once-man's throat. covering his face in the blood. before moving down to the abdomen. cutting it open, letting the walkers rotting insides pour out all over him, the ones that had piled on top soon couldn't distinguish the smell of living flesh from rotting blood.

he went silent, breathing shallowly, hoping, praying, they'd move off him and he could silently slip out. but when he was finally free of the chemist, glenn, the supplies they had gathered, and the SUV were gone.

he walked the dead-ridden streets of the once bustling city, covered in blood, hidden in plain sight. he kept walking (which then turned into a limp after getting hit in the ankle by a flying bullet) becoming weaker with each step, hoping to make his way back to camp. only to come to the end of the trainline leading into suburban atlanta. TERMINUS the building read "those who arrive survive" he heard a feminine voice call out from the speakers. maybe they have gauze. he glanced down at his leg, the sleeve of his shirt he had tied around it now dyed red.

"community for all; sanctuary for all" he saw a young man- perhaps just a little older than m/n was, staring down at him from the window. something felt amiss, off, but m/n had lost so much blood he didn't care. he stumbled towards the train station, stopping and starting as he debated his decision.

daryl, merle.. they'll be wondering he thought to himself, stopping for the 5th time, but i won't make it back he began walking again but they'll be looking for me he stopped, nearly tripping but the sudden lack of motion if i found this place they'll find it too he picked up the pace again, frantically moving towards the gates but- as he stopped himself once more, he finally tripped over. right onto the walker trap the train people had set up. his left ribcage was pierced by the sharp metal pole sticking out of the ground, causing the h/c-et to let out a loud screech.

before he knew it people had come out, the same man that had stared at him through the window moments earlier put his hand on the wound, causing m/n to flinch "we're you trying to get yourself killed?" the man mused, seemingly unphased by the active bleeding out that was happening in front of him. the man spoke more words that were muffled as m/n fell out of consciousness.

it was pitch black when he opened his eyes. not a shred of light to allude to the location. pitch black. m/n's hands brushed her his torso, feeling the gauze that was tightly wrapped around his chest. it all came back to him. the chemist, the walkers, glenn, the train people. he shifted his arms, feeling the thin material he was lated on, and the cold metal it covered. attempting to hoist himself up, pain shot through his body.

letting out a groan, he laid back down, closing his eyes. is this death. it certainly felt like it. the nothingness, the pain, it was all he had ever imagined death to be like. what felt like hours passed, the nothingness was almost comforting, how long had it been since he could lay like this and do nothing with no worries. it was all ended when the creaking of the door signaled to m/n that he was not in-fact dead.

the sudden brightness was blinding "you awake?" a masculine voice spoke. m/n's eyes began burning from the light, "i guess" he replied quietly, his eyes closing. "good" the male put down a plate next to where m/n laid "eat up. i know this isn't the warmest welcome, i would have liked to show you around first" the man chuckled, leaning down, seemingly to get a good look at m/n.

the man- who introduced himself as gareth, began speaking about the community- terminus. that they did whatever they had to for survival, that m/n would have to prove himself loyal if he wanted to become apart of the community. he wasn't sure how to tell this gareth guy that he was leaving as soon as possible to find his group.

the discussion started off normal as m/n finished his food, until gareth started talking about how lonely he was, as the leader of this terminus community. it only got creepier as gareth started to call m/n pretty boy, edging closer to him. m/n doesn't want to know what would have happened if that middld aged lady (gareth's mother), hadn't called the man away.

it quickly became evident to m/n that he was never going to leave. gareth locked him in the pitch black train car for hours on end, opening the door when there were armed men to prevent m/n from trying anything. gareth would sit with him and talk, running his hands over the male's body, stealing kisses, it was a reprehensive routine m/n had become forcibly accustomed to.

it all changed the day the hunters attacked. m/n was in his train car, as usual, listening to the outside screams, wondering if the attackers were dead or alive. he knew they were alive when one pried open the train car door, and threw them self on him. he was then thrown into a cramped train car with other terminus residents, where the hunters hand picked who to assault and slaughter each day. he and gareth spent their days huddled up together, talking about their lives before. had m/n not accepted the hunters offer to leave the train car if he worked for them, gareth wouldn't have lost his mind. but m/n was desperate to get away. from the train car. from terminus. to find his family.

but the hunters caught him trying to leave. they did their absolute worst to him and then threw him back in. when the termites took back terminus, gareth locked the leader of the hunters and m/n into the same train car. "this is what you deserve" he told him, before locking the door shut.

perhaps it was years, perhaps it was months, maybe it was only a few hours. the horrors of the train car began to unfold, as the man who had once led the attack on terminus lost his mind: pouncing on m/n at random, screaming for hours straight, trying to eat m/n alive when they'd be deprived of food, ripping his ear off in hungered insanity. as m/n laid there bleeding from his ear, he decided either i escape or i die. had running worked before? no. was he willing to die trying? not really, but a man would do anything for freedom, and that's what m/n did.

the hunter had fallen asleep, a fatal mistake, as m/n wrapped his hands around the mans unshaven neck and squeezed. within second the man awoke but m/n was relentless, not letting go until the other went limp. i just have to wait now he cried to himself, hands shaking. calming, he began to strip the man of his clothes and use the fabric to restrain his limbs.

waiting for the termites to open the door with the meal made of human flesh felt like an eternity. the familiar sound of metal scratching and creaking filled m/n's ear, who quickly sprung into action.

grabbing the reanimated hunter by the hair, he guided it in the direction of the door, throwing it towards the woman holding their plates. she screeched as the hunters corpse sank it's teeth into her flesh, blood pouring from the wound.

m/n grabbed the woman's gun and bolted as the nearby workers aimed their guns at the walker, taking it down swiftly, but m/n had already gotten out of the train car. hiding behind what once was his cage, he shot at every person who came into view. eventually making his way to the fence, through the woods, he didn't stop running until the sound of gunshots stopped entirely. even then, he kept running. he ran for what felt like hours until his lungs couldn't take it anymore. collapsing onto the dirt, heaving in and out.

woodbury had fallen, it's entire population now living in the prison nearby. rick had relinquished his leadership, insisting the prison be governed by a council. he often went on runs by himself, to get away from it all, to look back on his actions, to find lost survivors. it wasn't everyday rick grimes came across a twenty something perhaps younger male covered in blood, breathing like he had never tasted air before. well, usually the young men were walkers. but this one was very much alive.

"please don't" the male groaned out, eyes wide, as rick approached with a knife. "who are you" he drawled out, kneeling down to get a good look at the other. the young males face was bruised, his hair covered in blood, an ear was missing, and the male was emaciated. "uh" the male seemed to have to think about it, as if he hadn't spoken to another human in years "m/n" he finally puffed out, bringing his hand up to his head, where the left ear once was.

rick's hands brushed m/n hair out of his face, causing the male to flinch away "how many walkers have you killed" the older man finally asked after several moments of silence. m/n just stared at him, as if to say he hadn't been keeping track "how many people have you killed" still, the same look. "water" "what" rick narrowed his eyes. m/n used his free hand to shakily point to the man's bag, where a bottle of water was latched on to the side.

rick was silent as m/n chugged the water down "do you have anything sweet?" "no i don't" "oh" something about the boy felt familiar. didn't glenn mention originally going into atlanta to find a boy with a similar description? maybe it was just that the male reminded him of his own boy in a way, or maybe he had already developed a fondness for m/n. "i have a camp" rick looked m/n in the eye "we have walls, food, a community, a doctor that can look at your wound" he added.

the h/c-et shook his head "not again" rick furrowed his brows "what" the boy started to pick himself up "i gotta, um" he started feeling around the ground for his gun, "gotta go" he finished as he felt the handle of the gun. stuffing the weapon into his belt, he stood up, using a tree as a crutch. "c'mon kid, you're going to die out here" rick leaned forward and took the gun out of the others hand "no im not! give it!" m/n lunged forward, only to awkwardly fall into rick's chest, sinking down back to the ground.

"you've got two bullets left" m/n looked up at rick with a glare "either you come back to my camp with me or i just wasted my water on a dead man" m/n held his glare until the sun got into his eyes. "whatever" he looked down, hoisting himself back to his feet with the help of rick's hand.

daryl squinted his eyes as the evening sun glared down, merle had stolen his motorcycle. again. the older dixon was always going off on fun runs without informing anyone beforehand. perhaps because the redneck had never really been accepted into the group like daryl was.

taking another bite of his pork chop, daryl grunted at carol who told him to go in and get some rest. but why would he want to rest when all he could think of when his mind was unoccupied was his baby brother, the boy he had pretty much raised, who was now probably a rotting corpse in atlanta. but daryl still held out hope that m/n had gotten out, that he was safe, that he would find him oneday. this was why he never rested, these thoughts would creep up in the younger dixons head.

the sound of his motorcycle rumbling told him that merle was back. the older dixon sauntered over to daryl, a cigarette sat between his thin lips, "look what you're big brother merle got you, darylina" he pulled a pack of cigarettes out his pocket, sliding it into daryls pocket. daryl said nothing, staring into the distance; was that rick? the figure was too far away to discern.

"dad!" carl called out, jogging down. "look what i- m/n?" the young grimes exclaimed as he came closer to the pair. rick carried the half-conscious boy through the gates "you know this guy?" rick looked at carl, who flicked the hair out of m/n's face to get a better look "he was with us back in atlanta, we thought he died on a run"

daryl's heart stopped, did he hear carl right? they were pretty far away. standing up, he threw the pork bone aside and marched towards the two- three. when he finally came close enough to see the persons face, he had to stop himself from tearing up in front of carl and rick "m/n" he uttered out quietly. the father and son came to a halt as he approached "you knew this guy back in atlanta" rick nodded at daryl "'course i did. he's my brother" daryl was quick to take m/n off rick. he wanted to cut the mans arms off just for touching his precious brother.

daryl rushed m/n into the prison, settling him in his cell, "go get hershel" he told carol, who looked just as perplexed as merle did as he walked into the cell. "m/n!? i thought you was dead" he breathed out, shoving daryl out the way, who was quick to push back, both wanting to be as close to their younger brother as possible "where'd you find him" merle looked over at rick, who was standing out front the cell "in the woods, looked like he'd been running"

rick moved aside as hershel came in, merle reluctantly stood up as hershel sat to access m/n's condition. "he's lost a lot of blood" hershel examined the ear hole where the flesh and muscle had been ripped from "we should have bob look at him, but from what i can see he needs bandaging and antibiotics" daryl grunted "i ain't letting no stranger touch him" he ushered hershel away, taking m/n's hand in his own "i found antibiotics on last weeks run, that gon' be enough" merle looked over at the old man, who nodded "we'll have to see how he reacts"

neither daryl or merle left m/n's side whilst waiting for the antibiotics to kick in. it was strange. no one in the prison had ever seen either of them so worried for or attached to someone. but for the six days and nights m/n spent unconscious, his body fighting off the infection from his wounds, recovering from the months of maltreatment.

when m/n finally opened his eyes, taking in his surroundings, daryl was leaned against the wall at the edge of the bed, eyes locked on the boys face "sleep well?" was the first thing he said after the two had stared at each other for what felt like an eternity "yeah" m/n spoke softly.

"i should have never gone hunting that day" "am i dead" the two spoke in unison. daryl breathed out "no, never gon' let that happen" he shuffled closer, laying down next to the youngest dixon.

daryl stared at m/n intensely, until merle was roused from his sleep "m/n, i told you not to go out of my sight" he grumbled, sitting forward. m/n looked up at the metal frame of the top bunk "i just wanted to get you some narcan" merle stared at him, blinking away tears "didn' have to risk your life for it" he pursed his lips "i ain't worth you dyin'" he added quietly, sitting back, his eyes not leaving m/n's.

the room went silent for a moment "maybe not, but you're my brother" m/n closed his eyes for a moment "do you guys have pop or candy here?" he questioned hopefully. merle let out a chuckle "i found a can on my run today" he chuckled out, before going quiet "i chugged it on the spot"

"you piece of shit!"

[punkshort]

look what we've become - ch.1

Chapter Summary: Tommy asks for your help proposing to Maria, causing both you and Joel to reflect on your own relationship.

Chapter Warnings: language, mentions of alcohol, fear of commitment, smut (18+ MDNI), fingering, oral (f receiving), p in v unprotected sex, dirty talk

WC: 6.1K

Series masterlist | Next Chapter

A/N: hi everyone! if you're new and didn't read the first story, this follows a slightly different timeline. Essentially, Joel and Tommy had a very successful construction business in NYC and reader worked for them pre-outbreak, so I've written in this story a slightly younger version of Joel given the timeline.

Thank you to everyone who loved the first one so much that it encouraged me to write a sequel! I really hope you like it, and I want to emphasize there will be a happy ending to this story. Thanks for reading!

June 2007

"Can't thank you enough for your help, darlin'," Tommy said, his voice trying and failing to hide the anxiety that plagued his mind.

"Don't mention it," you told him, finishing up the final touches on the bouquet of flowers, wrapping a beautiful satin ribbon around the stems before handing it over. "What's the occasion?"

"I'm gonna ask her to marry me," he blurted out, and your hands instantly flew to your mouth, covering your excited gasp.

"Tommy!" you squealed, bouncing on the balls of your feet, trying to contain your energy before giving up and rounding your workstation to wrap your arms around him, being mindful not to crush the flowers he was holding. "I'm so happy for you, oh my god!"

"Well, thanks, but she ain't agreed, yet," he said, running a shaky hand through his long hair.

"She's going to say yes, don't be silly," you told him, a smile permanently etched on your face. You and Maria have been close friends ever since you met three years ago. You considered her to be your closest friend in Jackson, and you were thrilled at the idea of your best friend about to experience the happiest moment of her life. Tommy had come a long way from the man you knew before the outbreak, his days of chasing every girl that tossed him a smile long behind him.

"So, how are you going to do it?" you asked excitedly as he shifted back and forth on his feet. He paused and flicked his eyes up.

"Uh," he said, growing shifty. "Well, I dunno. Do I gotta plan somethin'?"

"Yes!" you said, rolling your eyes. He rubbed the back of his neck anxiously.

"Well, shit, I didn't think that far ahead!" he exclaimed, turning to pace around the greenhouse.

"Don't stress, we'll figure something out," you assured him, scooting back so you could lift your hips and sit on your workstation tabletop. "Did you find a ring?"

"Yeah, I got that, at least," he said, his shoulders relaxing a bit as he dug it out of his pocket. You plucked it from his fingers carefully so you could get a better look at the three round, shiny diamonds set on the center of a gold band.

"It's perfect," you told him warmly, handing it back. He allowed a small smile as he shoved it back into the safety of his pocket.

"Will you help me figure out how to do it?" he asked.

"Of course I will," you told him. "She doesn't like a fuss. It should be private. Small. Romantic. And you need to come up with something thoughtful to say." He nodded, his gaze traveling to the wall, lost in thought before he shifted his eyes back to you.

"Like what?"

"Tommy! Come on!" you scolded him, shoving his shoulder.

"I ain't good at all that, cut me some slack!" he said with a grin. "I need an example. What would you wanna hear?"

You paused, your smile frozen on your face as you felt your blood run cold. Your smile began to slowly slip as your heart slammed in your chest, anxiety creeping up your neck, ears ringing. Naturally, you were thinking about Joel bending down on one knee, professing his love to you and begging you to be his forever. A thought that should have filled you with warmth, but instead, scared you shitless. And your reaction itself made it even worse. Why would the thought of Joel proposing scare you? You never wanted anyone else. Once you met, it just wasn't a question anymore. You were his, and he was yours. An understanding, it didn't need to be said. So why does the thought of him saying it make you feel like you're falling down an endless hole in the ground?

"Um," you managed to squeak out, but Tommy had already moved on, wrapped up in his own dilemma.

"I think I know what I could say," he said, not noticing your sudden paralysis. "Can you do me a favor, though? Could you round up any candles you ain't usin'? Preferably unscented, don't need the whole place smellin' like a mix of cookies, pine and roses."

"Yeah, of course. I'll look when I get home and bring them over," you mumbled.

"Great, thanks again, darlin'! I'll see you in a bit," he said with a more confident smile, rushing out the door to leave you with your thoughts, your legs swinging mindlessly over the edge of the workstation. The workstation Joel had thoughtfully built for you because he insisted you needed somewhere proper to work in the greenhouse.

And he also broke the only desk you had.

You hung your head, feeling shameful and confused. Why hadn't you ever thought about this before? What would you have done if he proposed and you never sorted out your feelings about marriage? About kids?

"Shit," you whispered, the mere thought of kids making your throat squeeze shut. Bringing a child into this world? He wouldn't want to do that, would he?

Maybe you were getting ahead of yourself. Maybe he felt the same as you. Why change something that's working so well? You both loved each other, what difference did it make? But the devil on your shoulder threw back a counter argument.

If it didn't make a difference, then why didn't you want to do it?

You rubbed the heels of your hands into your eyes aggressively. You really needed to stop making problems out of nothing. This wasn't about you and Joel, it was about Tommy and Maria.

You sighed and made your way down the long aisle towards the door, deciding it was close enough to the end of your shift.

"Hey, I was callin' your name, didn't you hear me?"

You nearly jumped out of your skin and turned around to find Joel leaning against the doorframe of the spare bedroom. He eyed up the half empty box next to you on the floor and looked back at you questioningly.

"No, sorry, guess I was lost in my thoughts or something," you told him, turning back to rifle through the plastic storage tote. Joel took a few steps into the room and sat down on the spare bed, the springs squeaking under his weight.

"What're you thinkin' about?" he asked as he watched you pulling out each candle and giving them a sniff before deciding which pile to add them to.

"Huh?" you asked him, still jumpy from your revelation earlier. "Oh, it's nothing, really." Even to your own ears, the excuse sounded lame, so you weren't surprised when Joel didn't buy it.

"Must be somethin' if it's got you all distracted," he urged you gently. You shook your head and gave him a believing smile.

"No, really, it's nothing. Just thinking about work. I left early today, I'm just thinking about what I need to do tomorrow," you lied as you finished up going through the candles, snapping the plastic tote lid back on and shoving it into the spare closet.

"Why'd you leave early?" Joel asked with his eyebrows knit. "Feelin' okay?"

He's always so thoughtful, so concerned about you. It made the pit in your stomach worsen, the guilt flaring.

"Oh, yeah, fine. I just told Tommy I would get him these extra candles as soon as possible, so I'm gonna head over there real quick," you explained. As you leaned down to pick up the box, Joel's hand shot out to stop you, choosing instead to lift it up himself.

"I can do it," he said, then looked back down at the open box curiously. "Why does he need so many candles?"

"Well," you said, turning to leave the room so your face wouldn't give anything away when you told him. "He's going to propose to Maria. He has some special thing planned, involving candles, I guess. We should probably standby in case he lights the house on fire," you joked over your shoulder as you made your way down to the kitchen. You knew you were rambling a bit, but you hoped Joel didn't pick up on your nervousness.

"He's what?" Joel exclaimed, stopping dead in his tracks in the hallway, still holding the box of candles. You turned your attention towards him again as you leaned against the kitchen counter.

"Yep, he told me today. He asked me to make a bouquet for him at work," you told him, studying his face carefully. Joel looked stunned as he stared out the window behind you while he processed the information.

"Well, goddamn," he said, finally snapping out of it with a smirk. "I'll take these over so I can give him shit for not tellin' me sooner." He readjusted the box in his arms before he turned around towards the front door, his reaction giving you a bit of relief. He was just happy for his brother, and didn't appear to be overthinking your own relationship, like you couldn't stop doing.

Naturally, you worried about nothing. You were both perfectly content with the way things were. Feeling silly for even being nervous in the first place, you followed him to the front door and stopped him before he left.

"Hey, wait," you said from the door, causing him to turn around just as he was about to descend the stairs. "How about a kiss before you go?"

He grinned and, dropping the box in a chair by the front door, reached forward with both hands to cradle your face and pulled you towards him, his lips pressing firmly against yours. Your fingers gripped the front of his T-shirt as you sighed contentedly against him, his usual scent of gunpowder, sweat and something uniquely him filling your nostrils. You opened your mouth and licked gently at his lips, causing him to smile and slide his tongue alongside yours with a quiet groan while one of his hands released your jaw to get tangled in your hair. He gave your head a gentle tug backwards in an attempt to get you to open your mouth wider, but when a soft moan escaped your lips from the sensation, he felt himself stiffen in his jeans. He pulled you back further so you lost contact and he looked down at your flushed face, his hands still in your hair and on your jaw.

"I'll take these later," he said huskily, nodding to the candles next to the door as he walked you backwards inside the house.

"No, no, you have to take them now," you giggled as his mouth latched onto your neck. "He needs them before Maria gets home." He growled against your skin and begrudgingly pulled away, his eyes raking up and down your body before he stepped backwards.

"Don't move, I'll be back in ten minutes," he told you, grabbing the box and jogging down the steps. You laughed and closed the door behind him, wondering why you let yourself get worked up over nothing. Everything was great between you, you were never more sure of anything in your life. In the back of your mind, you knew you had to figure out why you had such a negative reaction to the thought of marriage in the first place, but you decided to put that off for another day.

"Can't believe you didn't tell me, you little shit," Joel teased with a smirk the minute Tommy swung the door open. He pushed his way into the house and glanced around quickly to make sure Maria wasn't there before turning back to Tommy.

"Heard you needed some mood lighting," Joel said, raising an eyebrow when Tommy ruefully snatched the box from his arms.

"Yeah, thanks," was all Tommy could manage, his nerves getting the best of him the more time passed.

"Nervous or somethin'?" Joel asked his brother as he casually took in the half-done scene he was setting in the living room. Candles were randomly dispersed throughout the room and two empty wine glasses were placed on top of the mantle.

"Yeah, I'm fuckin' nervous, 'course I'm nervous, shit," Tommy said as he raked a hand through his hair and got to work sifting through the box.

"Well, it ain't like she's gonna say 'no'," said Joel in a poor attempt at easing his brother's nerves.

"Don't matter. I gotta do it right. It'll mean a lot to her, she's probably got some fantasy in her head already 'bout how it'll go. I can't screw this up," Tommy said as he pushed past Joel to balance more candles on the bookshelf.

"Nah, you're overthinkin' it, they just like the ring so they can show it off," Joel replied, thinking back briefly to the time when he was engaged before the outbreak. Amy hardly cared about the effort he put into the proposal, but her eyes lit up like a Christmas tree when she saw the huge diamond he picked out.

"Oh, brother, you couldn't be more wrong. Your own girl told me I need to do somethin' thoughtful. Somethin' romantic. Shit, you're lucky you got me before you swiped the biggest rock you could find and think that'll be enough to make her happy," Tommy grinned as he nudged Joel's shoulder playfully, making his way back into the kitchen to pick out a bottle of wine.

Joel chewed on his lower lip and cracked his knuckles before scratching his beard, his eyes flicking around the room, lost in thought, while Tommy began to light the candles. Tommy noticed the sudden silence and paused, straightening up and raising an eyebrow at his brother.

"You already got a ring, don't you?"

Joel met his gaze for a moment before clearing his throat and running a hand through his hair.

"I've had it for months," Joel admitted, bringing his thumb and pointer finger up to rub his eyes.

"Holy shit, Joel! Why didn't you say anythin'?" Tommy exclaimed, walking over to clap his brother on the back.

"I don't know. You never said anythin', either," he said with a shrug.

"Well, when are you gonna do it?" Tommy asked, turning back to light the candles, grateful for the distraction.

"Don't know. Never seems like the right time," said Joel as he picked up the bottle of red wine Tommy placed on the mantle, scrutinizing the label. "And it's a good thing, too, seein' as I need to rethink how I'm gonna ask her, apparently."

"Yeah, well, one of these days I can ask Maria for advice, if you want," Tommy said, brushing his palms on the sides of his jeans as he made his way to the window, peering out to make sure she wasn't coming home early. "Least I could do, since I got help from your girl."

"Yeah, maybe," Joel replied as he distractedly ran his palm over his mouth.

"Alright, get the hell out of here, I gotta change and put the flowers in a vase before Maria gets home," Tommy said, pushing Joel towards the front door. He opened the door but Joel paused, turning around quickly and enveloping Tommy in a rare, quick hug.

"Congrats, brother. She's gonna love it," he said, gesturing vaguely around the living room. Tommy grinned and nodded.

"Thanks. Now leave, I mean it," he said, giving Joel a shove. Joel laughed and shook his head.

"I'm leavin', I'm leavin'," he said with a wave over his shoulder. He shoved his hands in his pockets as he made his way slowly down the street.

He was telling Tommy the truth about the ring. He hadn't gone out looking for it, but one day, months ago, when he was on patrol with Eugene, he just happened to see it. They had been exploring an abandoned shopping mall, and when he walked by the jewelry store, he had glanced inside at the broken glass display cases and spotted what he thought was the perfect ring for you. It was an oval diamond set on a delicate, white gold band. He had picked it up and examined it thoughtfully, imagining what it would look like on your finger. He briefly looked at the other choices, and none of the others seemed to resonate with him the way that one did. So he pocketed it before Eugene noticed he was lingering, and hid it in an old shoe he had in the closet when he got home.

When he first came home with the ring, he couldn't stop fantasizing about how he would ask you, what he would say, what you would say. But he hadn't been in any rush to ask, and he hadn't really thought about it much after that, he just knew he wanted to spend his life with you. He had almost forgotten all about it until you told him about Tommy's plan earlier that day. But now that his brother had him thinking about it again, the idea of officially making you his and calling you his wife made him feel excited.

He walked through the front door and kicked his boots off before he made his way down the hallway and into the kitchen, where he saw you drying some plates and putting them away. You glanced over your shoulder when you heard him enter the room before turning back to your task.

"Little longer than ten minutes," you teased. You were drying your hands on the dish towel when his arms snaked around your waist and he buried his face in the back of your neck. You squirmed, his grip loosening so you could turn around and gently circle your arms around his neck. "What took you so long?"

He shrugged and leaned down to press a chaste kiss where your neck met your shoulder.

"Just got to talkin'," he murmured, pressing another kiss in the same spot. You hummed and tilted your head to the side a bit, closing your eyes.

"I was thinking, maybe we should throw them an engagement party," you whispered, trying to stay focused as his lips brushed along your neck, his scruffy beard giving you goosebumps. "I can ask Carrie to help, she loves that kind of thing."

"That'd be nice," he mumbled in agreement, flipping his head in the other direction so he could continue his torture on the opposite side of your neck. "We can have it here."

"Yeah," you sighed as you shifted your weight, trying to ignore the ache growing between you legs. "I thought we could - "

You inhaled sharply when he pinched the skin of your collarbone between his teeth, leaving an angry red mark there. Your fingers found their way into his dark curls, gripping them tightly as your breathing became shallow.

"Hm?" he asked, hiding his smirk against your skin.

"Thought we could do it outside," you mumbled, quickly finishing your thought.

"Whatever you want," he said, his voice gravelly as he pulled you into him roughly, earning a small yelp from you. His lips latched onto yours, softly humming against your mouth, the warm exhale from your nose fanning gently over his face. You pulled away, breaking the kiss as he began slowly walking you backwards towards the stairs, his eyes dark as he stared you down.

"Maybe Julia's class can make decorations. I think Maria would like that," you said breathlessly, gazing up at him, meeting his heated stare. "What do you think?"

Joel gave you half a smirk when the backs of your legs bumped up against the lowest step.

"I think you better get up to bed right now before I toss you over my shoulder and do it myself," he said lowly, sending a shiver down your spine.

A playful grin spread across your face as you turned on your heel and raced up the stairs, Joel following hot on your trail, taking them two at a time.

You barely pushed the bedroom door open before his hands were on you, eagerly skirting over your hips and up your arms before coming to rest on your jaw, cradling your head in his hands tenderly as his tongue slid between your lips, reveling in your warmth. Being with you always felt like home to him, it was where he was always meant to be.

"So beautiful," he mumbled against your mouth before he pressed his lips against yours again, his fingers gripping your head a little tighter, like he was afraid you would float away.

Your fingers deftly worked on undoing his jeans as he continued to walk you towards the bed. Just as you were about to reach below his waistband, he scooped down to pick you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his hips, clinging to him as he softly placed you both down.

He lifted his head up a fraction to look down at you underneath him, his thumb gently stroking your cheek, looking at you with admiration. His eyes flicked up to the open closet door, the urge to confirm the shoe with the ring in it was still in its rightful place, that you hadn't accidentally found it.

"What is it?" you asked him breathlessly, noticing how his attention had been stolen away. He quickly brought his gaze back down to you with a sly smile.

"Nothin'," he said with a shake of his head, then leaned down to part your lips again with his tongue, curling his fingers along the back of your neck, deepening the kiss with slow, leisurely licks inside your mouth. Your fingers danced over his broad shoulders for a moment before you made your way down his chest and stomach, pausing to gently rake your nails through the coarse hair at the top of his boxers, then plunging down to wrap your hand around his stiff cock.

He groaned softly into your mouth when you gave him a squeeze, his hips shallowly thrusting forward into your hand as you stroked him up and down.

"Slow down," Joel gasped, tearing himself away from your mouth and flexing his fingers around your wrist, stopping you. "Wanna take my time with you tonight," he drawled, taking your hand away and pinning it lightly into the mattress.

"Joel," you whined, lifting your hips up from the bed, frustrated. He tutted and shook his head.

"Don't worry, I'll take care of you. You know I always do," he said huskily, his mouth latching onto your neck. "Wanna take care of you for the rest of my life," he added quietly, his voice muffled against your skin and lost in the sounds of your moans. You tipped your head back, your free hand sliding through his thick curls, fingernails raking against his scalp just the way he likes.

He let go of your hand so he could lift your shirt over your head, followed quickly by your bra. Slowly, his eyes swept over your bare chest, his knuckles brushing against your nipple and watching as it perked up in response, then once he was satisfied, did the same to the other.

"So soft," he muttered to himself before diving down and sucking one into his mouth, the tip of his tongue flicking against your nipple before he flattened it against your sensitive skin, licking slow, hot stripes up and down. He lifted his mouth from your skin and blew gently over the wetness his tongue left behind. You gasped at the sensation, your cunt clenching around nothing as he switched sides, giving the same attention to your other breast while his fingers roamed around your waist, then dipped down to squeeze your ass and hips.

You whined his name and tugged on his hair, begging him to touch you, vaguely wondering why he was in the mood to take things so painfully slow, but you were unable to form a coherent thought other than why are my fucking jeans still on?

"Joel, please," you whimpered, pathetically jutting your hips upwards, trying to find friction against him to no avail. He finally released your breast and looked up at you, your chest heaving, hair a mess and your eyes glazed over, already looking completely wrecked. He smirked at the sight and pushed himself up, hovering over you.

"Alright, sweetheart, I'll give you one," he said, much to your relief as his hand came between you to pop open your jeans. He pulled down the zipper and you hooked your thumbs into your belt loops, helping to pull them down as quickly as you could and kicked them off. His eyes glanced down, feeling his cock twitch when saw the dark spot leaking through your panties.

He looped his fingers around the sides of your underwear and pulled them off, then flattened his palms on the insides of your thighs so he could admire the mess he made of you. He ran his middle finger up the length of your seam, testing the waters before dipping inside, marveling at how soaked you were already. His eyes drifted up to your face, mesmerized as you writhed underneath him, your eyes screwed shut and your brows pinched as you focused on his second finger entering your aching cunt.

"Oh, fuck, Joel," you whimpered, snapping your eyes open just to find him already gazing down at you, his eyes dark and filled with want. You rocked your hips forward, trying to make him go faster, but he continued to slowly pump both fingers in and out, in and out, curling his fingertips as he reached inside, brushing against the spot that he knows makes you fall apart.

"That feel better?" he breathed, and you nodded, clutching the sheets in your fist as the fire in your stomach began to burn, the warmth creeping up your chest and neck with every plunge of his fingers. His thumb brushed gently over your clit and you cried out, your body stiffening underneath him as you felt your orgasm steadily approach, your breath coming in short gasps when he finally began to circle the swollen bundle of nerves.

"Faster," you croaked, tipping your head back, but he shook his head and continued his torturous pace.

"It'll feel better this way," he said, and you groaned. "Do you trust me?" he asked, and you brought your head back down so you could look at him again.

"Yes," you whispered, watching as his eyes lit up and a smug grin spread across his face.

"Then let go," he ordered. You inhaled sharply as you felt your walls clench down and your release drip down his fingers, your orgasm slowly ripping through you with a strangled moan. You reached out and grabbed his wrist when it became too much, your body relaxing onto the bed and your eyes fluttering shut.

He slid his fingers out, earning a hiss from you before he popped them into his mouth. You opened your eyes weakly as you watched him suck his fingers, his other hand palming his erection over his jeans and looking down at you panting beneath him, his gaze dark.

"I need more," he murmured as he shimmied down the bed to settle his face between your legs, his hands sliding up your shaky thighs to pin them down to the mattress.

"Wait, Joel," you told him breathlessly. "Too soon, I - it's too much," you said, pulling feebly at his hair. He ignored you, too lost in his own thoughts, the fantasy of making you his and calling you his wife consuming him.

He licked a stripe through your folds, his tongue plunging inside briefly before taking another long, slow drag. You wiggled under his hold with a gasp, your body involuntarily trying to squirm away from overstimulation, but his large hands pinned you down as his tongue probed further inside you.

He knew he was pushing you to your limits, but he couldn't stop. He felt like a man possessed. He alternated between licking and nibbling at your sensitive cunt, trying to avoid your most sensitive area until he knew you could handle it. Only when he finally felt your legs relax under his palms and heard your breathy moans of encouragement did he venture up to press his tongue flat against your clit. Your fingers tugged at his curls, his eyes rolling to the back of his head with a moan. He always loved it when you pulled on his hair. He sucked your clit into his mouth, swirling it around his tongue slowly, trying to drag out the pleasure as long as possible.

Tears pricked the corners of your eyes. The pressure building inside you too intense. You felt like you were vibrating, Joel's expert hands and mouth making your body pulse and thrum, your breaths shallow and sharp.

You tried to say his name, but it came out as a pathetic whimper instead. The way he lapped at your fluttering cunt was making you dizzy. You were hyper aware of how rough his facial hair felt on your raw skin, a stark contrast to how soft his tongue felt on your folds. The muscles in your stomach began to clench as you felt yourself rocketing towards your second orgasm.

Joel felt you twitch under his forearm and knew you were close. He pressed his face further into you, thrusting his hips into the mattress to find some relief while he sucked and nibbled on your swollen clit, your moans morphing into high pitched cries, fingers frantically grasping and slipping through his curls.

Your back arched off the bed, tears trickling down your cheeks as you fell over the edge, your body jerking underneath him while you screamed his name. His hands clutched your legs, trying to keep himself attached as he worked you through it.

He finally pulled back with a gasp when you managed to writhe away, desperate to give your trembling body a break, completely overwhelmed. You each panted for breath as you stared at one another for a moment, your legs still shaking from the aftershock.

"Christ, Joel," you rasped, your voice hoarse as you wiped your tears away with the back of your hand.

"Sorry, sweetheart," he said, running a hand through his hair before wiping his mouth, his gaze softening as he took in your wrecked state. "Can't get enough of you."

"I can see that," you teased, the corners of your mouth turning upwards into a smirk. Your eyes flicked down to his pants, noticing his cock straining painfully against the denim. "Come here," you whispered, beckoning him with your arms. He grinned and quickly pulled his shirt over his head before kicking off his boxers and jeans. He crawled up the bed slowly, hovering over your body. You ran your hands gently over his arms, sending a shiver down his spine, before grasping the back of his neck and pulling him down for a deep kiss. He moaned against your mouth, his lips gently massaging your own while his tongue gave you a taste of your arousal.

"Are you sure you can handle it?" he asked, looking down between your bodies where your hand was directing his cock to your entrance.

"We're gonna find out," you said with a sigh, feeling his thick head notch against you. He pushed forward and you gasped at the familiar sting of being stretched open. Your nails dug into his shoulders as he pressed on, slowing giving you every inch of him before bottoming out with a groan of relief.

"Fuck," he whispered, resting his forehead in the crook of your neck while he took a moment to just appreciate the feel of you. You wiggled your hips slightly underneath him to get more comfortable as your body relaxed and adjusted to his size.

"I'll never get tired of that feeling," you murmured into his hair.

"Hope not," he said, lifting his head up with a smirk. He held your gaze as he slowly dragged his cock in and out, in and out until your head tilted back and your eyes slid shut, your lips parted as you gasped softly each time he pushed back inside. He nibbled tenderly at your jaw, fucking you with deep, long strokes while your legs wrapped tightly around his waist, pulling him closer each time.

"God, you feel so good," you moaned, yanking his face up and kissing him messily, your fingertips digging into his skin. He kept up the slow pace, savoring the feeling of just being close and intimate, while each powerful thrust caused tip of his cock to make contact with the most sensitive spot inside you, stoking the flames and pushing you to the edge.

"Fuck, I love you so fuckin' much, you know that?" he gasped, his lips hovering above your open mouth as he gazed down at you, watching your eyes glaze over with each slow drag, in and out. "D'you - shit - d'you see what you do to me? Huh?" He gripped your jaw when he saw your eyes begin to flutter close, fingers pressing into the soft flesh of your cheeks. "Look at me, sweetheart. Need you to look at me," he begged, his climax quickly approaching but he refused to pick up the pace, enjoying the slow way he was fucking you way too much.

"Yes," you whispered, forcing your eyes open to give him what he needed. He nodded, loosening his grip on your jaw and letting his hand fall limply. He looked down, watching as his cock disappeared inside you and coming back out, coated in your slick. He groaned at the sight and glanced back up at you, your gaze still transfixed on his face, just as he asked.

"Can't believe you're really mine," he muttered to himself in disbelief with a small shake of his head, his eyes roaming over your face and chest. "Can't believe I'm the one that gets to fuck you."

"I'm yours," you whimpered, biting down on your lower lip as you felt your body begin to tense up, like a band ready to snap.

"Yeah?" he asked hopefully, his wide eyes locking back onto yours. He knew you didn't mean it the way he wanted to hear it, that it was just something you said in the heat of the moment, but he didn't care. He allowed himself to have the fantasy, anyway.

"Just you, only you," you babbled, knowing exactly what he liked to hear. He clenched his jaw and took a deep breath, fucking into you a little faster now.

"Keep talkin', just like that," he said through gritted teeth, his arms wrapping around your ribs as his hips snapped into you, eliciting a low moan from your throat.

"N-nobody else, all y-yours, only want you," you rambled before the band snapped and your vision went spotty. You cried out and clenched down around him, the intensity of a third orgasm depleting all your energy and almost immediately, your muscles went slack.

"That's right, good girl," Joel said, watching you fall apart under him. "All mine. Mine - mine - mine!" he grunted, each word punctuated with a harsh thrust before pulling out just in time to come all over your stomach, watching in a daze as each burst of his hot spend coated your soft skin.

He collapsed next to you, both struggling to catch your breath. Your arm draped over your eyes and you contemplated falling asleep just like that, not even sure you had the strength to stand anyway. After a moment, he reached over to his nightstand to snatch up a handkerchief, and he gently cleaned you up as your breathing stabilized. Gingerly, he lifted your arm away from your face, brushing his thumb over your cheek, then your swollen lips before pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

"Wow," you whispered hoarsely, finally opening your eyes. He chuckled and nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, wow," he said, laying back down next to you. "That was somethin' else," he added, rubbing his palms roughly over his face.

You rolled onto your side, wincing at the soreness in your legs and hips already, and draped an arm across his body.

"Where did all that come from?" you asked sleepily, nuzzling your face into his chest. He shrugged.

"Don't know," he lied as he rubbed small circles across your back. You hummed, accepting his response without a second thought. His eyes drifted back over to the closet briefly before reaching over and turning off the light, tugging the sheets over your bodies and resuming the circles on your back until he heard your breathing slow, confirming you were asleep.

He stared in the dark at the ceiling, thinking about how and when he should ask you to marry him. He didn't want to take away from Tommy and Maria, so he figured he should put it off for a while, but that didn't stop him from closing his eyes that night and dreaming about what it would be like to be your husband.

Tag List: @chiogarza, @sparklejumpropequeen-777, @shotgun-shelby @partyofone3413 @nana90azevedo @ninaminaromina @untamedheart81 @taz-97 @nastiasnow - lmk if I missed anyone or if you want to be removed

[toxicanonymity]

Left in Lincoln - Master List (ongoing)

softdark dads' best friend!Joel x virgin f!Reader

mood board by gracieispunk

series masterlist here, a reblog won't stay updated.

official playlist 🍑 bonus playlist by readers PREMISE: After you were orphaned by the outbreak, Bill and Frank raised you, sheltered in their closed community. Now 21+, you're still inexperienced. They leave to get treatment for Frank and ask Joel to look in on you while they're gone. The town begins to creep you out, but Joel is glad to provide comfort, protection, and education. WARNINGS: I8+ Big, girthy age gap. Joel is very dark and toxic but acts sweet with reader. Angst. Loss of virginity. Manipulation. Slow-burn horror: no gore, no violence toward reader, but this story has given people nightmares. NO USE OF Y/N.

Floorplan

PLEASE STOP PUTTING THIS FIC INTO AI. It's been made into chat bots at least 3x since August and they all sucked. It hurts my writing and gives me a mental block. Do not copy, translate, re-upload, use AI on, or make bots of any of my work.

Part 1 - This Protector (3k) - He lowered his voice and said, "Feelin' this against you, knowin' it's there." His hips lifted gently, and it swelled harder against you. "It's s'posed to feel good. Nothin' to be ashamed of"

Part 2 - The Dirty Ground (5k) - “Ever had an orgasm, darlin'?” He slowed his hips to talk. . . . “Only in my sleep," you said.” Good, that’s your body takin’ care of you. It’s good for you. . .Gonna take this belt off, k?”

Part 3 - The Cold, Cold Night (7k) - He looked from your eyes to your mouth and back then murmured, "Nap really all ya want?" "Just wanna be with you," you answered quietly.  His deep voice became nearly a whisper. "Love hearin' that, baby."

Part 4 - Apple Blossom (7.5k) - “Gonna take time ‘fore you’re ready for this,” he said with a roll of his hips. . . You asked, “You want it too, don’t you?” “Course I do, baby,” he panted. “Gotta feel good for both of us, though. Gotta do it right.”

Part 5 - Black Math (8.6k) - “God, if you only knew . . .” There wasn't even a hint of shame in his voice. “We’re almost there, I promise.” He tucked in his shirt and adjusted himself while he was at it. “God damn,” he exhaled.  “Turns me on, thinkin’ about it.” 

Part 6 - As Ugly as He Seems (8.4k) - You would've given anything for Joel to wake up and ravage you. “s’what I mean, baby,” he murmured sleepily into your hair. "Can't trust myself." He groaned softly as his palm brought you tighter against him.  You began to reach behind you, but he intercepted your hand. . .

Part 7 - Forever for her (10k) - [loss of virginity] You looked at his clothes and didn't say anything, but he replied to your silent question with a smile and hushed voice. "no, I don't have to be so dressed..."

I would love to write a part 8 but I've been through a lot in this fandom that people don't see because I don't address it publicly. I don't have an ETA or guarantee, so please don't ask.

-----

Art, etc.

HOT fan art by @bonezone44

Ch 1 mood board by @neverwheremoonchild

Ch 1-6 mood board by gracieispunk

Collage by @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog

Chapter-specific posters

Hot ominous edit by swagxgarfunkle tiktok

Haunting edit by @iamasaddie

If yours is missing PLEASE let me know I probably tagged improperly & couldn't find.

[pandapetals]

Watch It, Bub

Logan whips out his claws to scare off some creepy guy for you.

logan howlett x fem!shy reader - established bf/gf, shy reader, introvert reader, bookish reader, logan being protective, logan whipping his claws out, cute ending, some fluff, some angst, no y/n used, no reader description, sweetheart/darlin pet names used

a/n: inspired by @romanarose post about logan whipping out his claws at any tiny threat towards reader.

"Take your time, sweetheart. I’ll be just over there looking handsome," Logan murmured, brushing a quick, warm kiss against your cheek before stepping away.

You chuckled, rolling your eyes at his usual confidence, but you felt the familiar flutter in your chest as he headed to the other side of the store. You hadn’t expected him to come with you today—bookstores weren’t exactly his thing—but here he was, giving you the space to browse in peace, even offering to pay for whatever books you wanted. He knew how much this place meant to you.

With a small smile lingering on your face, you turned down the fiction aisle, your eyes drifting over the rows of books. The shelves were packed, full of spines in every color, each one a doorway into a new world. You felt at home here, surrounded by the comforting smell of paper and dust, your fingers grazing the covers as you searched for the title you came for.

But as you rounded a corner, your easy calm shifted. A man was standing a little way down the aisle, leaning against a shelf with a book open in his hands. His posture was casual, but there was something in the way he glanced up at you—quick, assessing—that made the back of your neck prickle. His gaze lingered a second too long, a faint smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

You considered turning around, ducking into another section, but a voice in your head stopped you. Would he think that was rude? Why should you care what he thought? But still, your heart beat a little faster, and you could feel the edges of your shyness creeping in, making your movements a bit more stiff.

Taking a quiet breath, you forced yourself to keep going. You focused on the titles, searching for that book you’d been wanting. Your fingers tightened around the spine of a novel as you found it, pulling it from the shelf with a small, victorious smile. But before you could fully turn away, you heard him clear his throat.

“Hey," he said, his tone almost too casual. "So…you into that author?”

The question caught you off guard. You glanced up, your brow furrowing slightly. “What?”

He tilted his head, closing the book in his hands. "Just wondering if you’re a fan. I’ve read a lot of their stuff. Thought maybe we could compare notes.”

His smile was meant to be friendly, but there was something too forward about it, too expectant. You felt your cheeks flush, the words caught somewhere in your throat. You hadn’t prepared yourself for small talk—especially not with a stranger who seemed to have taken a bit too much interest in you.

The man’s question hung in the air, and you felt a weight in his gaze, waiting, pressing as if he had a right to your attention. Your brain scrambled for something to say, but all you could manage was, “Yeah—I mean, I guess.”

Your cheeks felt warm, an awkward flush creeping up as you struggled to fill the silence. You wished, just for once, you could handle moments like this smoothly—could just have a regular conversation without your words tangling on the way out. But another part of you bristled, reminding you that you didn’t owe this stranger anything. You glanced down at the book in your hands, hoping he’d take the hint and move on.

Instead, he stepped closer, a too-friendly grin stretching across his face. “You know,” he said, his voice dropping as if to make the conversation more intimate, “I’m always happy to give recommendations if you’re looking for something… different.” He reached out and touched your arm, a casual gesture that lingered a beat too long, his fingers warm against your sleeve.

A chill shot up your spine. You stiffened, pulling your arm back instinctively, but the man didn’t seem to notice—or maybe he didn’t care. He leaned in, that smile of his edging from friendly to something more expectant, his gaze fixed on you as if he were waiting for permission to keep going.

Your heart sped up, the edges of your discomfort sharpening. You swallowed, feeling the prickling heat of anxiety clawing its way up your throat. You opened your mouth, trying to summon a polite excuse to leave, but the words died as a shadow fell over you both.

Logan had appeared beside you, silent as a storm gathering on the horizon. His hand came to rest on your waist, pulling you close to him. He didn’t look at you—his focus was locked entirely on the stranger, his eyes dark and unblinking.

“Watch it, bub?” Logan’s voice was low and even, each word laced with a quiet, unmistakable threat. “She’s not interested.”

The stranger’s grin faltered, his fingers twitching as he quickly withdrew his hand from where he’d touched your arm. He looked between you and Logan, his smile turning nervous as he took in the hard line of Logan’s jaw, the clenched fists. Logan’s stance seemed to expand, filling the aisle. A faint, metallic snikt cut through the silence as Logan’s claws slid out just far enough to make his intentions crystal clear.

“I—uh,” the guy stammered, his eyes wide. “Didn’t mean any harm, man. Just… being friendly.”

“Then back off.” Logan’s gaze didn’t waver, his voice steady as steel. “Find someone else to be friendly with.”

The stranger held up his hands in a quick, defensive gesture, the color draining from his face. “Yeah, yeah. No problem,” he muttered, taking a step back. He turned and practically tripped over his own feet as he made his way down the aisle, disappearing around the corner without looking back.

As soon as he was gone, Logan’s posture softened. His claws retracted with a soft click, and he turned to you, his expression shifting from deadly to concerned. He brushed a gentle thumb over your shoulder where the stranger had touched you, his eyes scanning your face.

“You alright?” he asked quietly, his voice a low rumble of reassurance.

You felt a small, shaky smile tug at your lips as the tension slowly ebbed from your shoulders. “Yeah,” you murmured, your voice barely more than a breath, but laced with quiet relief.

Logan’s eyes softened, his mouth curving into that rare, gentle smile he saved just for you. He kept his hand on your shoulder, his thumb brushing slow, reassuring circles over your skin. “Can’t have anyone bothering my girl,” he said.

A soft laugh escaped you, and a gentle warmth bloomed in your chest, melting away the last of your unease. “I guess it was my fault…” you started, feeling a bit sheepish. “Maybe I should have just walked away.”

Logan’s face darkened, and he shook his head firmly. “No, sweetheart. Don’t go blaming yourself.” His eyes flicked toward the empty aisle where the stranger had disappeared, his jaw tightening as if the man were still standing there. “He put his hands on you…” His voice dipped into a dangerous growl, his hand clenching briefly at his side. “I should’ve cut off his damn arm.”

The words were half-joking, but his eyes flashed with something deadly serious. You could feel his protective fury simmering just below the surface, a fierce heat held in check only by his respect for you. It was a reminder of exactly who he was—the dangerous edge he kept hidden, for your sake.

You let out a small, nervous laugh. “Well, good thing you didn’t… cut off his arm,” you said, glancing up at him with a soft smile. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Logan’s gaze softened, his usual hardness melting into something warmer that seemed to wrap around you like a shield. Slowly, his hand traced down your arm, his fingers leaving a gentle warmth that lingered on your skin long after they passed.

“You’ll never have to find out, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice a low, steady promise.

His words hung between you, carrying a weight that was both fierce and comforting as if he was making a vow he intended to keep with every fiber of his being. You felt a soft warmth bloom in your chest, and suddenly the world seemed a little smaller and safer, with him beside you.

You met his eyes, feeling your own shyness creeping in, but unable to look away. “Thank you, Logan,” you whispered, feeling the words fall short of what you really meant.

He just gave a small, knowing smile, as if he understood everything you couldn’t quite say. Then, with one last brush of his thumb along your arm, he pulled back, letting you return to your books, but not before giving you a final, reassuring nod that told you he’d be right there if you needed him.

[brainrottingg]

Darlin: What keeps you up at night?

Red: Don’t-

Stryker, shaking: Does Mike Wazowski wink or blink?

Darlin:

Mal:

Jade:

Sunshine:

Mandy:

Red: I tried to stop you.

[theetherealbloom]

BUT DADDY I LOVE HIM - CH.2

Chapter 2: ​​Just Screeching Tires And True Love

Summary: After harboring a crush on your dad's charming best friend, Joel Miller, you graduate college only to be confused by something he supposedly said to you, but then he and his daughter Sarah, reluctantly move away due to his work. Six months later, Joel returns to town, and you're desperate to confirm if his words were real. Both you and your dad eagerly await his arrival but for entirely different reasons. As feelings intensify, you realize that falling for him might not be temporary after all.

Paring: Dbf!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst, AGE-GAP Romance, Reader is Early twenties and Joel is in his late 30s to early 40s, Secret Romance, Sneaking Around, FLUFF, LOTS OF SMUT, SMUT, SMUT, Heavy Make Out Session, Oral Fem Receiving, Kissing, Barely any plot, NOT A SLOW BURN AT ALL, Relationship, Swearing, Depression, Anxiety, Crying, Suggestive content, Flirting, Flattery, Awkward, Virgin reader, inexperienced reader, slightly Self Deprecating, Suggestive Content, Size Kink, Reader is “smaller” than Joel but no further descriptions, Breeding Kink, PWP (wrap it up), Body worship, declaring their love for each other, 

Word Count: 6.5k

A/N: Oh, wow. I didn’t expect all the love you all gave in the previous chapter. That was my first time writing real, raw, dirty smut. Like IM STILL SO NERVOUS AND SHY to post smut AHSKJFHAHAHA. The introvert in me is like… having a huge anxiety attack rn PLS– 

So, um, chat, I’m actually dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and/or grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!

Song: But Daddy I Love Him by Taylor Swift

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Joel's skilled hands and tongue explore every inch of your body, knowing that a series of powerful orgasms is the key to preparing you for him.

His fingers and tongue trace a path of pleasure over your skin, and you can't help but respond to his touch. Despite your reservations, you find yourself quickly reaching a boiling point, your body trembling with need.

Joel's touch is like a dream come true, his hands and mouth staking his claim on what's his. He takes his time undressing you, savoring every moment of this intimate moment.

As you lay back, your legs wrapped around his shoulders, Joel's tongue delves deep inside you, exploring every inch of your slick folds. His mouth moves over your clit with the same skill and passion as his lips on yours.

You try to whisper his name, to tell him something, anything, but every time he shifts his mouth to ask if you're okay, you can only shiver and gasp, your body trembling with pleasure.

Joel's touch is like a drug, and you find yourself quickly becoming addicted to the feeling of his hands and mouth on your body. You lose yourself in the moment, surrendering to the pleasure that only Joel can bring you.

Joel can't help but feel the overwhelming urge to bury himself deep inside you, to feel your slick heat surrounding him.

His balls are heavy and tight, his cock twitching against his jeans as he fights the urge to climax.

But despite his own desire, Joel remains focused on your pleasure, his tongue exploring every inch of your body as you shudder and moan beneath him.

You are a vision of beauty, your skin flushed and glowing with the aftermath of your climax.

Joel's own need is intense, but he holds back, wanting to make sure you're fully satisfied before he takes his own pleasure.

"I need you, darlin'," he groans, his body pressed against yours as he fumbles with his zipper.

But when you speak up, he stops, his body tensing with anticipation.

"What is it?" he pants, his heart racing as he tries to hold back his own climax.

You look worried, and Joel can't help but feel a pang of concern.

"This is what you want?" he asks, his voice low and gentle.

You nod, but there's still a hint of worry in your eyes.

"Buttercup, what is it?" he presses, his concern growing.

But when you tell him, his heart swells with emotion.

"I've never been with anyone before, Joel," you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Joel feels a surge of protectiveness and love, knowing that he's the first person to ever touch you in this way.

Joel's heart swells with emotion as you confess your virginity. He pulls you close, kissing your forehead as he whispers reassurances.

"No, I don't mind, darlin'," Joel reassures you, his voice filled with tenderness and desire. "It means you'll be mine, and I'll be your first."

You still look uncertain, but the hunger in your eyes tells Joel everything he needs to know.

His cock strains against his jeans, eager to be freed, aching to be inside you. Joel smiles, a mix of pride and desire filling him as he sees your attraction to him.

"We can go as fast or slow as you want, darlin'," he whispers, his hands finding your hips as he settles back between your legs.

But you have other plans. Your arms pull him close, your voice a breathless plea, "Yes, yes please, now."

Joel's heart races as he finds his zipper and frees his cock, the tip swollen and eager, ready for you.

"You sure?" he asks, his hands trembling with anticipation as you nod, your desire written all over your face.

With a swift movement, Joel sheds his flannel, revealing his soft yet toned body, his full erection standing proud and ready for you.

"Oh, fuck, Joel," you murmur, your eyes widening at the sight of him, the intensity of the moment hitting you.

As you both revel in the anticipation of what's to come, a distant rumble breaks the moment - a truck, your father's truck, parked outside.

Panic sets in as you realize the situation, the urgency of the moment propelling you both into a frenzy of dressing, the need for secrecy driving you to move quickly.

In a rush of movement, you both scramble to get dressed, the interruption leaving you both breathless and on edge, the promise of what was about to happen hanging in the air.

You hear the heavy steps of your father approaching the porch, the sound echoing through the house before the bell rings. Joel watches you quickly compose yourself, smoothing down your hair and adjusting your clothes, trying to appear composed despite the heated moment you both shared.

You move to Joel's kitchen, pretending to search through his pantry, your heart racing with the intensity of the situation.

Joel doesn't rush to answer the door, but your father is already there, a bag in hand, when he does.

"Joel, you okay, buddy?" Your father's voice fills the room, and Joel responds with a casual tone, "Yeah, yeah. Your daughter is in the kitchen helping me unpack some stuff. Come on in."

The air is thick with tension as your father enters, unaware of the charged atmosphere between you and Joel. You exchange a quick glance, a silent understanding passing between you as you both navigate hiding your shared secret.

"Hey, Dad, how was work?" You ask, trying to keep your tone casual and light.

Your father hands Joel one of his bags, his eyes flicking between the two of you, a hint of suspicion in his gaze.

"Anything interesting happen today?" You ask, trying to keep the conversation flowing.

Your father shrugs, his eyes still on you and Joel. "Just the usual," he says, his tone nonchalant, but his gaze lingering on the two of you.

"Well, I came over to check in… and tell you two that we should start prepping dinner soon," he says, breaking the tension. "Sweetie, why don't you help set up the table while I take over and help Joel finish up over here?"

"Yeah, sure thing, Dad," you say and your father smiles and you give one more glance over at him and Joel before leaving.

As you close the front door of Joel’s home and step off the porch, you take a deep breath and sigh, your heart racing with the fear of being caught.

You quietly position yourself near the edge of the house, just out of sight, listening in on the conversation between Joel and your father.

You feel your body flooded with anxiety, knowing that you need to make sure your father doesn't discover your secret with Joel.

You don't want him to find out or jump to conclusions before you and Joel have had a chance to define your relationship.

As you listen, you can hear the regret in your father's voice, and although Joel's tone is clear, your father's is softer, more subdued.

You can feel the weight of unspoken tension in the air, a heaviness that hangs between your father and Joel.

"It's fine, man, it really is," Joel reassures your dad, his voice calm and steady, a stark contrast to the unease that lingers.

Your father's repeated apologies have left you puzzled, his behavior out of character and leaving you wondering what's truly bothering him.

"So, what's eatin’ you?" Joel's voice cuts through the silence, his tone firm yet compassionate. "It's like you have a bug up my ass since I got here. C'mon, out with it," he urges, his directness surprising you.

As you listen in on the conversation, you can't help but feel a mix of emotions. You're concerned for your dad, who seems to be struggling with feelings of jealousy and insecurity.

"I dunno, Joel. It's just seeing you this time around, hearing how well you've done. And with my own business not doing as well… Fuck, man. Can ya blame a guy for wondering where he went wrong?" your father admits.

Joel responds with kindness and understanding, offering to help your father financially if he needs it.

"I told you, name the amount or just say the word. I'll cut you a check right now," Joel says, his voice steady and reassuring.

You get the sense that they had a lengthy conversation at the home office earlier, and Joel had seen firsthand the state of your father's business.

Despite your own worries, you can't help but feel a sense of pride in Joel's unwavering support for your father, even in the face of his own success.

"I don't want your charity, Joel," your dad says, his voice heavy with frustration. "I want...I guess I want the past twenty years back so I could do it differently. Do it better for my daughter. You know?"

Your heart aches for your dad, for all that he's done for you, putting family first even when it's just the two of you. It's what gets him out of bed every morning.

"I understand," Joel replies, his voice soothing. "But you've done your best, and now it's time for me to do mine. Movin’ back here isn't just about hangin’ out. I'm here to support you, whether you like it or not. So quit being stubborn and let me help."

Your dad goes quiet, and you realize that you've been eavesdropping for too long. You start to move away, not wanting to intrude on their conversation, but you hear your dad say something that stops you in your tracks.

"Joel, all those years ago. After her mom left and I had nothin'. We had nothin'. Remember who set me up in that little auto shop?"

Your interest is piqued. Anything to do with the past is interesting to you because your dad absolutely refuses to ever talk about it.

"It was you, Joel, all of it, and you know it. Hell, even Tommy helped us. If it wasn't for you and him, all the hard work you put in, paying off that damned loan, my daughter and I wouldn't be where we are today. And there's no way she would've gone to college."

Your dad's voice breaks off, full of emotion. And you hear Joel shifting his weight across the room.

"C'mon, we've been through this a million times. That damn loan was to get both of us started, remember? And we always said whoever paid it back first would never owe the other a fuckin’ penny. Remember?"

As you listen to your dad and Joel's conversation, you can't help but feel a mix of emotions. You're happy to learn about the support and friendship that exists between them, but you're also surprised that you're only hearing about it now.

"I remember," your dad groans, and you realize that it's time for you to leave them to have a private conversation.

As you make your way home, you can't help but wonder about Joel's past and the ways in which he's helped your family over the years. You're grateful for his generosity, but you're also a little shocked that you're only hearing about it now.

A night of many firsts for you, it seems. But your first time with Joel is obviously going to have to wait.

As you walk away, you can't help but feel a sense of anticipation. You know that Joel wants to tell your dad about your relationship, and you can see why. They used to share everything, including start-up money.

You guess that Joel wants what you want too - to have your dad as a part of the family for all of you.

But the shock of it all might cost more than you think, especially if your dad is as stubborn about you being with Joel as he is with everything else.

For now, you can only wait and see how things unfold, hoping what you have with Joel will be strong enough to weather any storm that comes your way.

"So, sweetie, did you have fun over at Joel’s?" Your dad asks, his innocent question sending a jolt of panic through you.

You choke on your food, feeling Joel's eyes on you from across the table. You quickly take a sip of water, trying to compose yourself. "Sorry... just... I... that went down the wrong pipe. Um, yeah, it was fun, a bit tiring though, kinda like a whole workout," you manage to say, your voice slightly shaky.

Unbeknownst to your dad, Joel shoots you a knowing wink, his smirk sending a thrill through you. You focus on your plate, trying to avoid any more embarrassing slip-ups.

As you try to eat, your mind races with thoughts of Joel. The simple act of 'being neighbors' suddenly feels like an impossible task. You can't shake the desire you feel for him, the hunger for his touch burning hot within you.

There's an obvious tension around the table, an aura of unspoken desire. You know there's no way you can make it through dinner without giving in to the overwhelming attraction you feel for Joel. It would take a miracle to resist the pull between you.

Thankfully, the universe seemed to be on your side as Joel's phone suddenly rang, interrupting the tension at the table.

"Sorry... gotta take this. It's Sarah," Joel said, his voice sheepish as he excused himself from the table.

You couldn't help but perk up at the mention of Sarah's name, smiling as you said, "Tell her hi for me please."

Joel easily slid his chair out and moved into the living room to answer his phone, his low voice a comforting presence as he greeted Sarah.

Your dad's suspicious gaze lingered on you for a moment, but you stayed quiet, focusing on your food. The anxiety bubbling up inside of you was making you dizzy, but you tried your best to push it aside and enjoy the meal.

As Joel talked on the phone, you couldn't help but feel a sense of relief. The interruption had given you a moment to collect yourself and regain your composure.

But even as you ate, your mind was still consumed with thoughts of Joel. The desire you felt for him was overwhelming, and you knew that it was only a matter of time before you gave in to the temptation.

Joel returns to the dining area, still on the phone, and hands it to you with a dramatic grumble. "Sarah wants to talk to you."

Your eyebrows shoot up in happy surprise, and you take the phone, excitedly greeting Sarah. "Hi Sarah! Miss you loads, I'm so excited you're moving back here."

Sarah squeals with delight, "You'll be there to pick me up from the airport tomorrow afternoon, right? With my dad?"

"Mhm! I'll be there, Joel is borrowing my car in the meantime." You assure her, smiling as you hear her excitement. "See you then!"

You say your goodbyes and hand the phone back to Joel, who resumes his call and says goodbye to Sarah.

As you head back into the dining area, you notice your dad has been busy on his phone, looking through his emails.

The tension from earlier has dissipated, replaced with a sense of excitement for Sarah's return.

But even as you chat with your dad, your mind is still consumed with thoughts of Joel. The desire you feel for him is overwhelming, and you can't help but steal glances at him throughout the meal.

As dinner winds down, Joel stands up, exchanging a hug and a pat on the back with your dad before turning to you. He pulls you into a warm embrace, his arms wrapping around you in a tight squeeze.

The electricity between you is palpable, the air thick with anticipation. You can't help but feel a rush of excitement as you look into Joel's eyes, knowing that the night is far from over.

With a lingering touch and a whispered promise, Joel leaves you with a sense of longing and desire, eager to see what the rest of the evening holds for the two of you.

Your dad checks in on you before he retires to his room, a habit from when you were a child. But tonight, your mind is elsewhere, consumed with thoughts of Joel.

As you lie in bed, your heart races, and your body aches for his touch. You know that sleep is impossible until you're in his arms.

After what feels like hours of tossing and turning, you decide to take matters into your own hands. Quietly, you slip out of bed, grabbing your phone, putting on your shoes and a sweater over your sleep shirt and shorts.

You listen at your dad's door, hearing the deep rhythm of his snoring, signaling that he's fast asleep.

With a sense of determination, you make your way to the back of the house and slip out the door, making your way up to Joel's porch.

If you were unsure about rushing into things a few hours ago, a sleepless night and the lingering ache between your legs are enough to convince you that you don't just want it - you need it.

The anticipation builds with every step, your heart pounding in your chest as you approach his door. You take a deep breath, ready to see where the night will take you.

Before you have the chance to knock, the door swings open, revealing Joel in nothing but grey sweatpants, his broad shoulders, soft belly and toned chest on full display.

Your breath hitches in your throat as you take in the sight of him, your body responding instantly to his presence.

"Well, hello there, darlin’" Joel says, his voice low and seductive. "Was wonderin’ when you'd show up.”

Without a word, you step forward, closing the distance between you and Joel. Your hands reach up to touch his bare chest, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips.

"I need you," you whisper, your voice filled with desire.

Joel's eyes darken with lust, and he pulls you closer, his lips crashing down on yours in a passionate kiss. The sound of the front door slamming shut and him locking it echoes through the room as he doesn't remove his mouth from yours.

As you lose yourself in the moment, you know that tonight is the beginning of something new and exciting - a chance to escape the mundane and embrace the passion that burns between you and Joel.

Even though you're still a little tender from your earlier encounter, you're confident that you can handle him. You think. Maybe not all of him, but at least half of what you saw earlier.

The anticipation builds as Joel's hands explore your body, his touch setting your skin on fire. You whimper, your voice cracking and your body even buckling as he pulls you closer to him.

Your whole body is exploding with arousal, flushing through you all the way to where you need him most.

Your hands claw at his chest, and feeling his heart pounding hard against it, followed by the unmistakable feeling of his stiff erection probing you, you know you’re on the same page.

"I wanted it to be special," Joel says, almost sounding disappointed.

"It will be special," you counter, daringly running the flat of your palm up the front of his jeans, making him groan in a low tone.

"I meant somewhere special… not here," he reasons.

"I don't care where we do it, Joel. Bent over your couch, against the wall, on the kitchen counter - I just need you inside me," you gasp, your breath hitching with desire.

His strong arms effortlessly lift you off your feet in one swift motion, his muscles flexing as he carries you towards the bedroom.

"Then it's the bedroom," he growls, his voice low and commanding, as he strides purposefully up the stairs, his gaze locked on yours.

In this moment, you couldn't care less if anyone caught a glimpse of the two of you. All that matters is the raw desire pulsing between you and Joel.

The world fades away as you enter the bedroom, the air thick with anticipation and need. You know that this is where you belong, in Joel's arms, giving yourself completely to him.

If not for the interruption earlier, this morning would have been the moment you surrendered to him. But now, there are no more barriers, no more distractions.

It's just you and Joel Miller, enveloped in a whirlwind of passion and desire.

Joel might have envisioned a five-star hotel suite or a secluded cottage by the lake as more romantic settings. But you're right. Anywhere that's just the two of you alone will be special.

Your first time, or both of your first times, is something to be cherished. But what truly matters is the connection between you and Joel, not the location.

Seeing you standing there in nothing but the shortest sleep shorts and a sweater, Joel can't wait a moment longer. The urgency to be with you, to share this intimate moment, is overwhelming. He discards both of your clothing somewhere between the frenzy of kisses and tongue. The hours it would take to create the perfect setting elsewhere pale in comparison to the raw desire pulsing between you both.

In the bedroom that Joel wishes to be both of yours, he can't help but get a shiver. This is it, the moment you've both been waiting for. Joel, with the woman of his dreams. You, with a man who has more to offer than just his own needs.

It has to be right now. Joel needs to lay you down and fill your sweet cunt with his seed. There's an urgency between you both, like you've both got an appointment with destiny that neither of you can miss.

"We won't be interrupted this time," you whisper knowingly, and if last night's anything to go by, you both know you want more than just an hour of each other.

Joel's hands tremble as he holds himself over you, your heaving breaths swirling in the even hotter places between your bodies. Your mouths lock in deep, penetrating kisses, Joel's chest butted up against yours, both your hearts pounding out a beat that somehow he knows is gonna make another kid. This time with you. And God help him, he's gonna do right by you.

"I've waited for this… dreamed of you for so long," Joel rasps, feeling you sliding his swallowed tip over the entrance to your slick valley. Your quivering, tight cunt is pressing and rubbing against his cock, making both of your eyes open wider. Joel feels you tense up just a little, but he makes sure it's you who guides his hardness for now.

"I've waited too. I still can't believe this is actually happening," you purr, your thighs and wide hips perfectly matching Joel's own size. And he knows you're gonna need all the padding you can get once he starts fucking you like he senses you want it.

Joel's lips crash onto yours once more, your tongues dancing together as your bodies become one. You can feel him entering you, filling you up in a way that takes your breath away.

"It's so big," you gasp, your voice trembling with pleasure.

"Go as slow or as fast as you want, darlin'," Joel murmurs, his voice strained with desire. He watches your face, your expressions of pleasure and discomfort as he slowly enters you.

"Oh, fuck, Joel," you moan, your voice deep and loud. Joel can't help but join in, his own moans mingling with yours as he slides deeper into you.

Inch by inch, he fills you up, your bodies moving together in a rhythm that feels both new and familiar. You can feel every inch of him, the sensation both overwhelming and exhilarating.

There's a moment of discomfort, a jolt that makes you wince, but it passes quickly, replaced by a feeling of fullness that takes your breath away.

You can feel the heat building between you and Joel, the intensity of your connection growing stronger with each passing moment. Your bodies move together in a rhythm that feels both primal and instinctual, a dance as old as time itself.

"You feel so fuckin' good, sweetheart," Joel groans, his voice low and husky with desire.

You can only respond by gripping his cock from the inside, shifting your hips higher as your mouth forms an 'O' shape. Your eyes are pinched shut for a moment, lost in the overwhelming sensation of Joel filling you up completely.

But when you open them again, you're met with Joel's gaze, his eyes dark with desire and need. You can see the tension in his muscles, the way his biceps bulge as he grips your hips.

You both want this, crave this connection that goes beyond words. You want to share your first climax together, to create something beautiful and new between you.

And if you're lucky, maybe he’ll even put a baby in your belly.

You grip hold of Joel's forearms, your smaller hands doing their best to clutch them as he watches your breasts start to bounce with each long and firm stroke in and out of your tight wet pussy.

You're lost in the moment, your body moving in perfect harmony with Joel's as he thrusts into you again and again. You can feel every inch of him, filling you up in a way that makes you feel complete.

"Give it to me, Joel," you cry out, your voice hoarse with desire. You hook your ankles around his back, urging him to fuck you as hard and fast as he likes.

Joel doesn't hold back, his hips pistoning as he drives himself deeper into you. You can feel every thrust, the sensation bordering on painful but in the best way possible.

Your G-spot is a prime target at this angle, and once you get a taste of how good it feels, you're hooked. You like it hard, deep, and fast just as much as you like it soft and slow.

The bed underneath you both creaks and groans with the force of your frantic pumping and rocking. Any concerns you both might have had about making noise are long gone. It's a wild, primal sound, and Joel's grunts and growls are matched by yours with every movement of your entangled bodies.

His grip shifts from your hips to that ass of yours, kneading your soft cheeks with his fingers as he pulls you harder towards him. The slick warmth of your essence mixes with his own precome, the combination creating a friction that's both intense and overwhelming.

Joel is proud of how much you can take of him. His balls are rising with his pending climax, the tightness and warmth of your sweet pussy working its magic.

You both know this isn't a race or a test of endurance. Joel knows your prized pussy is his, and your body is his. But it's your climax that he's craving.

To see your face as he fills you with his seed.

And the new life he has ready to put inside you is as eager to make that dream come true for either of you.

Your body stiffens suddenly, and then trembles all over. You arch the small of your back, grunting words that have Joel swelling so much inside of you that he knows that you're both close.

Your eyes roll back, and you force quick breaths through your mouth. Joel's jaw is clenched and tight.

The growl from him is growing by the second as he feels his release rising.

"C'mon, baby, fuck, I'm gonna come… gonna come… tell me where darlin, fuck," Joel practically shouts, and you whimper, "Inside… inside me, Joel, fuck a baby into me."

Your gasping screams as you try to call his name fill his ears, rushing with the torrent of his pulse when he feels his own climax start to escape him.

The shudder of your hips against his and Joel's hands holding you so tight against him makes it feel like you're finally one.

Joel has never come so hard in his life, and he's never felt what he feels for you with anyone or anything. And unlike your climax when he used his mouth, this is a proper full-body orgasm for you. And for him too.

Your bodies are slick with sweat, your skin hot and flushed with desire. You're both breathing heavily, your chests rising and falling in unison.

Joel collapses onto you, his body spent and sated, his chest rising and falling with each heavy breath. The room is filled with the sound of your combined heartbeats, a symphony of desire and satisfaction.

As you lie there, entwined with Joel, you can feel the powerful energy coursing through both of your bodies, a potent connection that leaves you both breathless and wanting more.

The waves of your shared climax begin to ebb, but the intensity of the moment lingers in the air, wrapping you both in a cocoon of pleasure and intimacy.

"Holy shit," you gasp, still shuddering from the force of your release. You can feel Joel's member continuing to flex and pulse inside you, a reminder of the raw passion that brought you both to this moment.

It's more than just an orgasm. It's a transcendent experience, a merging of souls that leaves you both feeling bound together in a way that words can't quite capture.

As you catch your breath, you look into Joel's eyes, seeing a depth of emotion and connection that takes your breath away. In this moment, you know that you've found something special, something rare and beautiful that goes beyond mere physical pleasure.

Joel's smile is warm and genuine as he looks down at you, his body still intimately connected to yours. "Darlin’, you're mine now, if you'll have me," he says, his voice filled with emotion.

You can feel the aftershocks of your climax still pulsing through your body, the sensation of Joel's stiffness still flexing inside of you a constant reminder of the pleasure you've just shared.

Joel eases himself onto his side, sensing how much you want him to stay inside you. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you close as you both lay spent, your bodies still entwined in a tangle of limbs.

Your panting breaths mingle in the air, your smiles of near disbelief that anything so incredible could even be possible.

"Of course, Joel, I...," you begin to giggle, gasping in a quick breath as you feel his stiffness still flexing inside of you.

Joel props himself up on one elbow, caressing your cheek as he finally slides out of you. "I don't know how I know, but I just know. Do you feel it too, darlin’?" he asks, his voice filled with a sense of wonder.

You can feel your whole body relaxing, the tension and excitement of your climax slowly ebbing away. "Oh, I think I'm gonna feel it for a few days," you joke, your eyes widening in amazement.

Joel's smile is warm and genuine as he looks down at you, his eyes filled with love and adoration. "I love you," he blurts out, his voice filled with emotion. "I've never been good at this, with words… but fuck it, I love you, darlin'."

You make a small sound, a soft gasp that turns into a frown as your eyes mist up. You clutch your arms around his neck, as if your life depended on it, pulling him closer to you.

"I love you too," you whisper, your voice filled with emotion. "I love you so much, Joel."

In this moment, as you lay there in each other's arms, you know that you've found something special, something rare and beautiful that goes beyond mere physical pleasure. You've found a love that is raw, real, and passionate, a love that will last a lifetime.

Joel's fingers trace gentle patterns on your skin, his touch sending shivers down your spine. "I want to make love to you again and again, darlin'," he murmurs, his voice husky with desire.

You smile up at him, your eyes shining with love. "I want that too, Joel," you whisper. "I want to feel you inside me, filling me up with your love."

Joel's lips crash down on yours, his tongue exploring your mouth with a hunger that takes your breath away. You respond eagerly, your bodies moving together in a dance as old as time itself.

As Joel enters you again, you can feel the connection between you deepening, growing stronger with each thrust. This is more than just sex, more than just physical pleasure. This is love, pure and simple, a love that will last a lifetime.

"I love you, darlin'," Joel murmurs, his voice filled with emotion.

"I love you too, Joel," you whisper, your voice filled with the same love and adoration.

And as you lose yourself in the moment, you know that this is where you belong, in Joel's arms, surrounded by his love and affection. This is where you'll stay, for the rest of your life.

Having a man like Joel Miller relieve you of your virginity is one thing, but having him tell you that he loves you is something else entirely. It completes you, fills in the missing pieces of your soul that you didn't even know were there.

It changes you, transforms you into a better version of yourself. And it changes everything between you both for the better.

There are no more questions, no more wondering what if, no more chasing. Just the two of you, and you both feel it as strong as the climax he just gave you.

As the world slowly comes back into focus, you become silently aware of just how quiet everything is. The old house, the neighborhood outside, it all feels like something you've both left behind already.

Your bodies are still entwined, your limbs tangled together as if trying to become one. You can feel Joel's heart beating against your chest, his breath hot and heavy against your neck.

Having Joel Miller come back to town feels like a dream come true, and not just because of the mind-blowing sex you just had. It feels like he's here for you, to keep you, to lift you up and carry you off to the new life you both have waiting for you.

Neither of you says anything for a long time, content to bask in the afterglow and the moonlight of the night. You can feel the connection between you growing stronger, a bond that goes beyond mere physical pleasure.

As you lay there, completely sated and relaxed, you can't help but feel like you're exactly where you're meant to be. And it's in that moment of pure bliss that Joel's deep voice breaks the silence.

"Darlin'," he murmurs, his voice low and husky.

You jump a little, startled out of your peaceful reverie. But as you turn to look at him, you see the warmth and love in his eyes, and you know that this is no dream.

"Can I get you anythin'? You want somethin'?" Joel's voice, tinged with his Southern drawl, is like music to your ears as he gazes at you with a look that feels like it's etched into your memory forever.

"I think you just gave me what I needed, cowboy," you reply, a playful glint in your eyes as you exhale a long breath, feeling the lingering effects of your passionate encounter with him.

"I may never walk straight again, but I'm good," you assure him, snuggling close as he gently wraps one of his strong arms around you, pulling you into his warmth.

After a moment of blissful silence, a realization hits you, and you let out a low groan. There are things you need to attend to after such intense intimacy.

You quickly kiss Joel, mumbling about needing to freshen up and use the bathroom, waddling slightly as you make your way. Once you're done, you eagerly return to his embrace, seeking the comfort and closeness only he can provide.

"What is it?" Joel's voice is filled with concern as he notices the slight shift in your demeanor.

Your life before the sun rises is still out there, waiting for you both. Responsibilities and realities loom on the horizon, but in this moment, all you want is to be held by Joel, to feel his presence anchoring you in a world that suddenly feels uncertain.

He takes a slow breath, his arms enveloping you in a protective embrace, offering you solace and reassurance. Both of you are acutely aware of the depth of your connection, of the emotions that have been stirred between you, and the inevitable challenges that lie ahead.

As you lay entwined with Joel, the weight of the future pressing in, you find comfort in the strength of his arms, in the love and understanding that flows between you. In this moment, you know that no matter what comes next, you have each other, and that is enough to face the aftermath of it all.

[drewharrisonwriter]

On the Mend - Ch 6: She's Here!

No Outbreak Joel Miller x Female Reader

Read this on AO3 | On the Mend Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Summary: Your daughter is here and you don't have a name for her yet.

Word count: 1,359

A/N: This is it! This wraps it up! Thank you for reading this story, I appreciate you all. 💜

Tagging these wonderful people: @tuquoquebrute @vickie5446 @softiedingo @theoraekenslover for this final update. You people are amazing! 😭

The car swerved slightly as Joel turned onto the main road, his knuckles white against the steering wheel. He glanced over at her, sweat beading on her forehead, her hands clutching her swollen belly with each sharp breath she took. Every contraction seemed to tighten its grip on her, making her wince, and he hated the helplessness he felt watching her in pain.

“Hang on, darlin’. We’re almost there,” Joel said, his voice strained but calm. He reached over to squeeze her hand briefly before pulling out his phone to dial Tommy’s number.

She was panting through the pain, squeezing his hand back as best she could, grateful for his presence even if everything else felt like it was falling apart. She watched him with blurry eyes as he spoke quickly into the phone.

“Tommy, it’s happening—yeah, we’re on the way to the hospital now,” Joel said, his voice laced with urgency. “Just... keep an eye on Sarah, alright? I’ll call when I can, maybe you can bring her up when things settle down.”

He paused, listening to Tommy’s response, and his grip tightened on the steering wheel. “Yeah, yeah, I got it. Thanks, Tommy. I’ll keep you posted.”

As he hung up, she turned to him, her face flushed and tired. “Thank you, Joel. I know this is... a lot.”

Joel shook his head, glancing over at her with a soft, concerned expression. “You don’t need to thank me, sweetheart. I’m here because I want to be, not because I have to.”

She nodded, though she didn’t quite believe it—not entirely. Another contraction hit, and she groaned, her head falling back against the seat as she tried to breathe through it.

“What if... what if something happens to me?” she blurted out between breaths, her voice trembling with fear. “I’ve been thinking about it, and... if something happens, and I don’t make it, what’s going to happen to our baby? I don’t want her to grow up alone, like I did.”

Joel’s heart sank, and he reached over to squeeze her hand tighter, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on her knuckles. “Hey, none of that talk, okay? You’re gonna be fine. But even if—no, when you’re fine—she’s not gonna be alone, alright? She’s got you, she’s got me, and she’s got Sarah. You’ve got family now.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, the tears spilling out despite her best efforts to hold them back. “But I... I never wanted to burden you with this, Joel. You made it clear you didn’t want a future with me, and I get that. But I’m scared, and I didn’t know how to...”

“Stop,” Joel interrupted gently, his voice firm but kind. “I said a lot of things I shouldn’t have, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to be here now. You and this baby—our baby—you’re not a burden. I’ve got you, darlin’.”

She nodded, but the fear didn’t fully dissipate. Still, there was comfort in his words, in the warmth of his hand holding hers. Another contraction hit, and she bit her lip, focusing on the rhythm of her breathing as they neared the hospital.

–

By the time they pulled into the emergency entrance, she was groaning with each step, her legs wide as she waddled through the doors. She could feel the baby’s head engaging, an overwhelming pressure that made her eyes water.

Joel was right beside her, guiding her with a firm but gentle grip on her arm. “Hang on, darlin’. You’re almost there.”

She could barely hear him through the pain, her mind focused solely on the urgency of getting the baby out. The nurses quickly ushered them into a room, and the doctor was there within minutes.

“Let’s get you checked, sweetheart,” the doctor said, helping her onto the bed. She barely had time to register the cold of the stirrups before the doctor’s voice broke through. “You’re fully dilated. This baby’s ready to come now.”

Her breath hitched, and she glanced at Joel, who was already at her side, holding her hand as another contraction ripped through her. “Wai–wha–No meds?” she managed to gasp.

The doctor shook her head. “No time, I’m afraid. But you’ve got this, okay? Just listen to your body.”

Joel leaned in, his forehead pressed gently against hers. “You can do this, sweetheart. I’m right here.”

She nodded, though every instinct screamed at her to panic. The pain was sharp, intense, and she clenched her teeth as she bore down, pushing with all the strength she had left.

“Oh, God, Joel!” she cried out, feeling the stretch, the burn as the baby’s head began to crown. “I swear, this kid has your big ol’ Miller head...”

Joel’s chuckle was half-pained, half-amused. “You can blame my momma for that one, darlin’. She always said we had the biggest and hardest heads in Texas.”

She let out a strangled laugh that quickly turned into another scream. “Yeah, well, this one’s ripping me apart! Goddammit, Joel, you’re never touching me again!”

Joel squeezed her hand, wincing as she nearly crushed his fingers, but he couldn’t help the smile that broke through his worry. “Let’s put a pin on that, darlin’.”

The doctor’s voice cut through the chaos. “One more big push, mama. You’re almost there.”

With a final, guttural scream, she pushed with everything she had left. The room seemed to blur, time slowing as she felt the baby slide free, the sudden release of pressure followed by the sweetest sound she’d ever heard—the wailing cry of their newborn daughter.

The doctor quickly placed the baby on her chest, and she sobbed, overwhelmed by the tiny, squirming miracle in her arms. Joel leaned over, his eyes wet with tears as he looked down at their daughter, his expression a mix of awe and pride.

“She’s here,” Joel whispered, his voice choked with emotion. “You did it, darlin’. She’s perfect.”

She looked up at him, her own tears blurring her vision as she gazed at their daughter. 

—

The next few hours were a blur of emotions—tears, laughter, and the quiet joy of holding their newborn daughter for the first time. Joel never left her side, even as they cleaned both her and the baby up.

Later, as the room quieted and the adrenaline began to wear off, they found themselves just staring at their baby girl, trying to come up with a name. They tossed around ideas, but nothing felt quite right.

“How about Harper?” Joel suggested, running a gentle finger along the baby’s tiny hand.

She scrunched her nose, shaking her head. “I don’t know... It’s cute, but it doesn’t feel like her.”

Joel nodded thoughtfully, staring down at their daughter. “Yeah, you’re right. She’s... I don’t know. She’s something else.”

Before they could debate further, the door opened, and Tommy stepped in with Sarah, who bounced excitedly on her heels. “Hey, y’all. Someone’s been waiting to meet her little sister.”

Sarah rushed over to the bed, her eyes wide with wonder as she looked at the baby. “Is this her? Is Ellie here?”

Both new parents froze, exchanging glances. Sarah’s question hung in the air, sweet and innocent, but it seemed to have struck them deeply.

“Ellie?” Joel repeated, his voice soft.

Sarah nodded eagerly. “Yeah! That’s what I want to call her.”

All three adults laughed. She looked at Joel, who was already smiling down at their baby. “Ellie,” she murmured, testing the name on her tongue. “I like it.”

Joel nodded, brushing a tear from his cheek. “Me too. Ellie Miller... It’s perfect.”

Sarah beamed, leaning in to kiss her baby sister’s head. “Hi, Ellie. I’m your big sister.”

They watched the tender moment, their hearts full as they took in the sight of their girls together. 

Joel leaned closer, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as they both watched Sarah and Ellie bond. He pressed a soft kiss to her temple, his voice a low whisper just for her. “I don’t know what the future looks like, but... I know I want it to look like this.”

She nodded, resting her head against his shoulder, “Yeah,” she agreed softly. “Me too.”

[areyouwell]

Necrophobia

Noun: An extreme and irrational fear of death. Those with this condition will do anything to avoid their own death or the death of somebody they love. But in the end, death is inevitable.

Ch.8, Ch.7, Ch.6, Ch.5.5, Ch.5, Ch.4, Ch.3, Ch.2, Ch.1 <–

Ch.9

Pairing: Mutant!Reader x Logan Howlet

Warnings: strap in and strap on folks, it's gonna be a long one... MDNI

Word Count: 29.7k (y'all wanted this as one chapter sooooo)

A/N: i actually can't believe this is it. like, this is the end of Phobophobia... how crazy is that? thank you all so much for the love and support on this series, it's been a while since i got back into fic writing so it means so much that you've all been reading along. i read and cherish every single one of your comments and reblogs, and now the only thing left to say is LET'S. FUCKING. GO.

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

It would be two days later before you and Morgana could convince Erin there was no threat here, and that she was safe. Another day for her to be comfortable enough to let Charles come anywhere near her, let alone bring her memories back. 

“Give her time, darlin’. She’s terrified.” Logan would remind you, only to fuel your frustration. You didn’t have time. You needed her help to get Rowan and the others back, and the longer she refused to restore her memories, the more danger he was in. 

You sighed heavily after the umpteenth time Logan reminded you, leaning on the balcony overlooking the gardens. He’d found you pacing back and forth, clearly trying to remind yourself that Erin was just how you were before you had your memories. She was scared and alone and you didn’t know how to convince her she wasn’t. Erin was never your speciality. Atlas usually could get through to her, but he was still with Kreva, like Rowan, Joes and Naji.

Logan took his position by your side, leaning his forearms against the stone wall of the balcony, his bicep brushing against yours as you leaned your head on his shoulder, exhaling a breath. “I know she is. We all were. But fuck, this is taking too long, Lo’. We haven’t even started planning for the mission and it’s already been too long. I just…” you trailed off, gazing into the middle distance as your mind wandered back to your brother. He would always seem so big and protective outside the experiments, but you couldn’t count how many times you had to act out to protect him when the white, overhead lights hummed to life in those observation chambers. How many times had you taken the hits for him, just for him to be used against you as persuasion? 

Logan’s arm lifted to wrap around your shoulders, tucking you safely into his side. “I know, but Kreva won’t kill him. If anything, he’ll use him as bait to lure you back.” The idea had his stomach churning, because there was very little that could convince you to return other than to save Rowan, and he was almost certain that’s why Kreva sent Joes to retrieve just him. Because the bastard knew you wouldn’t leave him behind. He knew you’d go back for him. If it was just Naji, Joes and Atlas, perhaps you would trust their rescue to the rest of the team. But Rowan was your brother. Your flesh and blood. He’d been with you since the start.

You weren’t going to abandon him. Everyone knew that. 

“Would you lock me away if I said it would work?” You asked with a half-hearted smile, and he pressed a lingering kiss to your temple, rubbing his hand against your shoulder. 

“Most likely.” He responded, revelling in your little bubbles of laughter. Just the weight of his arm around you was enough to ease some of the anxiety that had been your constant companion since waking up, the ever-present fear of what was going on beyond the walls of the school keeping you up at night. But Jade was right about one thing. 

You weren’t alone. Not anymore. Almost every waking moment Logan was by your side, keeping a watchful eye and jumping at the opportunity to provide for you. His warm embrace kept you sane even into the wee hours of the morning, never failing to stay awake with you when you had trouble sleeping. And these last few nights hadn’t been the most restful of your life. 

He could see it. Just how exhausted you were. You still had to regain the muscle you’d lost in the last two months, but that wasn’t what concerned him most. It was the dark purple bruises beneath your eyes that had him staying up with you, stroking your hair and engaging in murmured conversations until you’d finally fall asleep. Only to wake up an hour or so later, and take yet another lifetime to fall back asleep, by which point it was already morning and time for the two of you to start the day.

It was how he’d spent the last two nights with you, with you settled against his chest, staring at nothing in particular, talking about absolutely anything. It was a delicious slice of normalcy, certainly, but it worried him how little you were sleeping. And how hard you were training to get back to your muscular physique of before. He hadn’t seen you cook once, either. Though he supposed it had only been a few days, and it wasn’t like you had buckets of time to spare, between your lack of sleep, nutrition and overexerting yourself…

He didn’t really know what to do. What issue to tackle first. 

“You think any louder and Charles is gonna wonder what the hell’s going on,” you prodded lightly, nudging his side with your elbow. “How’re you holding up? We’ve spoken a shit ton about me but now it’s your turn,” Logan opened his mouth to tell you it didn’t matter, but you instantly cut him off, a glare sharpening your typical gaze of adoration. “And don’t lie. I mean it, Lo’. Let me in.” You placed a hand on the centre of his chest and he sighed heavily, clutching it in his own calloused palm.

“No lies?” He asked with a raised brow as if asking whether or not you really wanted this.

“No lies.” Your determined nod solidified that you were there for him, that you wanted to know how he was doing in the vague, possibly slightly selfish hope that it would make you feel a little better, or that perhaps there was a way you could help in some way, which would also make you feel better. 

“Total honesty?”

“Logan!”

“Okay, okay,” he huffed a laugh at your incredulous tone. He was stalling, to be completely honest. He didn’t want to open up about how this whole thing had affected him because he was so damn scared of making you feel worse, or, god fucking forbid, that you weren’t worth it. But he also knew you couldn’t stand lies. You’d had enough of those in your life, so the one thing he could give you now was honesty. Raw, weeping honesty. “I uh– It’s rare that I’m scared of anythin’. It’s happened, sure, but not often,” he ran a hand through his hair, and your thumb smoothed soft caresses against the centre of his chest. “But I don’t think I’ve been more afraid than when I thought I’d lost you for good,” his words came out a jumbled, murmured mess, but you caught them nonetheless. “An’ this ain’t over yet. We gotta go back for the others and ‘m fuckin’ terrified it’s a trap.”

“Logan…” you breathed his name with a sigh, resting your cheek next to the hand you held over his heart. His arms encased you in a home of pine-scented sinew, warmth seeping into your very bones.

“I don’t wanna lose you.” He whispered into your hair, and your heart cracked a little.

“I can’t say you won’t, because I don’t know what’s going to happen and I don’t wanna lie to you. I don’t know what we’ll find when we go back or how things will go down,” you paused, raising your head so your chin pressed into the dip between his pectorals. “But I can say, it’s certainly not my intention to die sooooo–”

“That makes me feel so much better.” He rolled his eyes, sarcasm dripping from his tone as the vibrations of your laughter invaded his chest, causing a chain reaction within his soul. 

You let the hushed silence of the clouded late afternoon blanket the two of you, content to bask in his presence after being deprived for so long. He was everything to you. He’d been by your side ever since you’d laid eyes on each other, even if you weren’t the easiest person to get to open up. He’d forgiven you for lashing out. He’d forgiven you for trying to kill him. He’d forgiven you for everything you’d done before. You didn’t think there was anything you wouldn’t do for him, and his actions towards you proved the same. 

“Besides,” you continued after a little while, flexing your fingers ever so slightly, the shadows on the ground responding with obedience you hadn’t experienced in a long time. “I got all corners of my mutation back, so I’d like to see Kreva try anything, the sleazy little fuckstick.” From the silhouette of the balcony rose one of those figures Logan had seen you conjure in your sleep, though this time it wasn’t looking at you with any kind of intention. Rather it seemed to be waiting for your command, standing unnervingly still, shadows rising like smoke from its corporeal body. 

“That’s one less thing to worry ‘bout. Not gonna wake up to you having dissolved on me.” He shrugged, watching intently as the figure raised its hand ominously toward the two of you. Logan bristled, holding you tighter and turning you slightly, his teeth bared. He thought you had control of your mutation now, why the fuck was it–

That extended fist rotated to the side before giving him a thumbs up. 

“Gotcha.” You grinned wickedly, the figure dissipating back into the shadows and Logan looked down at you with utter disbelief, the smirking satisfaction on your face singing to his very core. Wordlessly, he picked you up, delighting in your squeal of surprise, holding you suspended above him like he would a misbehaving puppy. 

“Jail time.” Was all he said, holding you firmly as you squirmed in his grip, breathless bubbles of laughter bursting from your chest.

“Put– put me down, Logan. M’not– a dog.” You managed to gasp through fits of giggling, reaching down to hold his arms to steady yourself. 

“I could just drop ya.” He mused, unable to stem the smile pulling at the corners of his lips.

“Don’t you dare.” It was tricky to glare at him when thrilled adrenaline coursed through your system and you could barely stop laughing. Logan quirked a brow, pretending to debate whether or not it was a good idea to just let you go and watch you hit the floor, before his slight smirk grew to a full-blown grin, and his hands disappeared from your body.

You barely had a second to register your stomach launching into your throat, a frisson of excitement spiking through your system as you lurched down. Though you didn’t fall far until his arms caught you beneath your thighs, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, elbows hooked around his neck.

“Gotcha.” He mimicked your exact tone from not moments ago, and you huffed a breath against the side of his neck, still clinging on. Not out of fear he would drop you, but just because you could. You were here, you were back, and you remembered every perfect detail of the eight months you’d spent with him before Kreva snatched you away.

Withdrawing from the side of his neck, you brushed a stray dark hair from his forehead, glowing as he leant into your touch, your hand sliding to cup the side of his face, fingers gently scratching through his beard, drinking in every peak and valley of his features, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, the quirk of his lips, the pinch of his brows. You devoured his visage as if it were the first time you laid eyes upon him. 

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” He murmured, and you felt your heart swell three times its size. You didn’t know just how badly you’d missed him. Only since waking up again did you feel an empty ache in your chest in the rare moments he wasn’t by your side, only feeling whole again when he returned. It was overwhelming, your sheer love for him, your insides squeezing to make room for the remarkable amount of adoration you held for him. 

Logan panicked slightly when your eyes started to sparkle with unshed tears, fearful he may have said the wrong thing, or something that reminded you of the two months with him you’d just lost, but his heart settled when your lips moulded against his, your thumb smoothing his cheekbone with every languid movement. He held you tighter, his arms crushing you against his body as if at any moment he’d wake up, you’d be gone, and this was nothing but a dream. 

But you didn’t disappear, not as your lips parted for him and you sighed into his mouth, your arm shifting back around his neck to meet him with equal strength, your nails combing the back of his hair soothingly as if you could read his mind just as easily as Charles or Jean, feeling his fears and reminding him you were here. You were back. And you weren’t leaving him anytime soon. 

Pulling back a fraction, your breaths fanned his lips with each exhale, before your hushed words had his whole world igniting.

“I love you, Logan.” Your eyes shone with earnest as his gaze flickered between them as if searching for the indication that this really was nothing but a dream. 

He thought he’d have to die before he heard those words again. 

Fearful that his voice would crack if he responded, he set you down so he could thread his fingers through your hair and kiss you again with as much love as he felt in his soul, gasping through his nose when your fingers grazed up the sides of his ribs, muscles tensing beneath your tickling touch. 

“Sorry to interrupt your disgusting display of a happy relationship,” Logan almost growled in irritation at the sudden intrusion, reluctantly pulling away from you to raise eyes of daggers at Morgana’s smirking face, her arms folded across her chest as if she’d just caught two teenagers making out behind the bleachers at school. “But we’re gonna try again with Erin, not to convince her of anything, just to talk to her. Need your help,” she paused, gesturing to the both of you. “If you’re all done here, that is.”

You snorted a laugh at Logan’s irate furrow of his brow, and you knew it was taking a lot of his self-control not to bare his damn teeth at her. You placed a placating hand against the centre of his chest, feeling is heartbeat settle a tad before nodding to the redhead. “Sure thing. I’ll be right there.”

Satisfied with your answer, Morgana cast one last faux disgusted glance in the minimal space between you and Logan, before turning on her heel, her hair bouncing as she returned back inside. 

“The hell you will,” he seethed, his grip shifting from the side of your neck to your waist, holding you tightly. You flashed him a crooked smile, patting his chest gently.

“I doubt it’ll be a long conversation. Besides, I’ll see you for dinner, kay?”

“You’ll see me before dinner, darlin’.” 

“Is that a threat or a promise?” Your smile twisted into something a lot more mischievous, and Logan almost groaned aloud at the thought of what he’s now definitely going to do to you later.

“Why can’t it be both?” He responded, matching the lust dusting your tone. You bit your tongue behind your teeth, taking a step back before you cracked beneath his gaze and offered yourself to him then and there.

“You’re filthy, Howlett.”

“You love it.”

With a subdued chuckle, you turned away from him intending to follow Morgana to help her with Erin, before Logan’s broad hand wrapped around your wrist and tugged you back into him, not even giving you time to blink before his lips were on your in a lingering, passionate kiss. 

“I love you too.” He whispered, and you didn’t even try to tame your smile before he let you go, choosing to stay out in the fresh air a little longer, mainly to cool himself off. You had such a gift in riling him up that it was always difficult to hold himself back when he couldn’t have his way with you, so he opted to remain outside, erasing the risk of following you and throwing you over his shoulder to take you upstairs. 

“See you in a bit.” You pecked the corner of his mouth briefly before actually managing to get more than two steps away from him, the buzz of anticipation fading in your veins as you headed back through the doors inside, only half expecting him to race after you and do exactly what he promised.

“Surprised I could pull you away from your man for longer than three seconds.” Morgana grinned as you strode down the hallway, seeing her waiting outside Erin’s room, leaning against the doorframe with her arms still folded. You rolled your eyes dramatically.

“We’re not joined at the hip, but I was robbed of the last two months with him so excuse me if I’m a little clingy.” You shot her a faux glare, cut short by the way her face split with a toothy grin. 

“I’m messing with you. It’s real nice actually. I only ever saw snippets of you like this with Jade before you’d revert back to whatever emotionless shell you needed to be so I’m not complaining. Just jealous he got there before I did,” she winked and you slapped her arm with a light chuckle. 

This was the usual dynamic between you and Morgana, having lighthearted, occasionally flirty banter whilst living your ‘lives’ until you’d be taken for experiments. It was rare Kreva would take the both of you, but when he did, you always gave him one hell of a fight back. 

Maybe that was why he would usually separate the two of you. “So,” you continued, leaning opposite her against the doorframe. “What’s the plan this time? Since the last fifty conversations with her haven't worked, you got a new special approach? Or is this just gonna be failure number fifty-one?” 

Morgana placed a hand on her heart dramatically, her mouth falling agape as if you’d just insulted her meticulously preened appearance. “Okay, first of all, we’ve only tried like, what, five times max? Second of all, did you really think I’d drag you from your boyfriend for no reason and risk waking up with several claws stuck in my stomach? Fuck no. Of course I have a plan…” She paused, and you narrowed your eyes suspiciously. “Or… I will have a plan. When I think of one.”

“Morgo…” you sighed tiredly, dragging a hand down the side of your face. 

“Look, I can’t do this by myself. If Atlas was here, we could just hand this whole thing over to him and be done with it. But he’s not here, and we need Erin’s help to get him back. And Rowan. And Naji and Joes. And we don’t exactly have a cheat code when it comes to her like we did with you.”

“The fuck do you mean ‘cheat code’?” you asked defensively, a little insulted at the way she looked at you as if it was obvious. “Oh Logan is not a cheat code, that’s so unfair!” you protested avidly, pouting when she gave you another one of her looks. 

“We can talk about your complete lack of self-awareness at a later date,” you had half the mind to slap the girl. “And about the fact you somehow managed to back one of the most gorgeous men I’ve ever seen in my life. Your descriptions did not do him justice, by the way.” She wiggled her brows and you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“Can you stop thirsting over my partner, please?”

“What’s sex with him like?”

“Morgo!”

“Okay okay, I’ll stop,” she held her hands up in surrender, though her wicked grin didn’t fade in any way. “Fucking gatekeeping, so mean. Throw a girl a bone here… literally.”

“Oh my god.” You groaned, pushing up from the wall to slap your hand over her mouth. Unfortunately, she anticipated and nimbly stepped back before you could even approach her. 

“I can hear you guys outside… if you’re going to come in just do it already,” Erin called from behind the door. The poor girl sounded utterly exhausted, and your heart broke as you imagined her inside, most likely curled up in a corner, surrounded by nothing but hard, dead wood. Useless for her mutation. 

You cast Morgana a sheepish glance, an expression she mirrored, before unlocking the door and stepping through a little hesitantly. They’d made special precautions with her the same way they had with you. A lack of windows meant she had no sightline to the copious greenery beyond the mansion’s walls. All and any plant life had been removed from the room just to make absolutely certain she had no way of escape. It hurt, but you knew it was necessary. 

Necessary evils. How many times have you heard that phrase and genuinely believed it?

“Hey Woods…” Morgana uttered quietly, hoping in vain not to startle the girl. Not that either of you had even seen her yet. She seemed to be hiding somewhere amongst the furniture, or maybe under the bed. It hadn’t been the first time she’d hidden from either of you. “We don’t wanna try convince you of anything. We just wanna chat…” she continued warily, creeping around the side of the bed to where you both assumed she’d curled up. “We’re your friends, Erin. We don’t wanna– huh?”

Morgana stopped when she peered around the double bed to see nothing but empty space. You sidled into the ensuite, nudging open the door a fraction only to once again be met with nothing. “Erin, where’re you–”

You were cut off by the sound of hurrying feet behind you, the slamming of the door, and the click of the lock, barely having enough time to whirl around before you registered your absolute idiocy. 

“You’re fucking joking…” Morgana spat, crossing back to the door Erin had just locked behind her. “Very funny Woods, glad to see you’re feeling better. Now let us out.” She huffed, trying not to let her irritation seep through her voice. Though nothing but silence greeted her from the other side. Morgana tugged at the door a few times, but the oak refused to yield. Defeatedly, she took a step back, throwing you an apologetic glance, before her foot collided with the centre of the panels.

“Fucking ow!” She recoiled to your inappropriate amusement. She shot you a look darker than before. “I’m not the brawler okay? I don’t tackle shit as strong as this.” 

Rolling your eyes skyward, you flicked off the light switch before placing a hand on her shoulder wordlessly. Morgana’s eyes widened as panic flooded her face. “Nononono I hate it when you do this. Can’t you just sift outta here and unlock the door for me?” She pleaded, already skittish before you’d even partially dragged her into the shadow with you.

“Nope. Don’t have the time. It’ll only be two seconds. Promise.” You actually had no idea how long it was going to be, seeing as most of the mansion was drenched it light around this time of the afternoon, but you knew which room this was. And you knew the room above it. 

And it was rare that the room had much light in it at all. 

Not giving her a word of warning, you kept a firm grip on her shoulder as you pulled the both of you into the shadows, pulling on the strings of darkness to keep her consciousness with your own.

With the corporeal world nothing but the stark contrast between light and shadow, you felt your way upwards, through the little cracks between the ceiling and the floor above, weaving up through the crevices in the floorboards. You weren’t expecting the room to have so little options for where to materialise again, your consciousness writhing with the surprise of the bedside lamp being on. But you chose the dark corner by the wardrobe, pulling both yourself and Morgana through the various shadows across the floor and into the sizeable darkness against the wall. 

“Jesus Christ!” 

The last Logan had heard, you’d followed Morgana in the hopes of convincing Erin she wasn’t in any danger here. So he couldn’t contain the shock you gave him when you melted into his room from the corner, a dishevelled-looking redhead by your side. Were you trying to kill him? 

“Nope, just me. Sorry Lo’, didn’t mean to scare ya.” Though from the subdued grin pulling at your lips, he knew you definitely found no small amount of amusement in taking him off guard. 

You managed to suppress your light chuckle at his incredulous expression, choosing instead to tend to your friend who seemed to be struggling majorly with a bad case of motion sickness.

“Ugh… I don’t understand how you do that so often… I think I’d off myself if that was my mutation…” she managed to grit, holding her stomach as if she was about to throw up. You pointed her toward the bathroom just in case as Logan stood from his extremely comfortable position on his bed.

“Though you were talkin’ some sense into Erin. What went wrong?” His first instinct was that, immediately upon entering the room, Erin had most likely thrown something at the two of you and you’d retreated to rethink a strategy.

Though the silence after his query was deafening.

“She uh, she got out.”

Oh. Nevermind. This was a deafening silence. Logan swore he could hear your blood cells in your veins the room fell so quiet. “Whaddya mean ��she got out’?” 

“Oldest trick in the book. One of the ones I tried and failed on you. Told us to come in, hid behind the door and bolted when we were far enough in the room.” You explained flatly, lifting Morgana’s hair from the back of her neck in an attempt to stem her queasiness. 

Logan swore lowly, instinctively checking you for injuries despite the fact you’d just reformed yourself from the shadow. He couldn’t stop himself. “Does Charles know?”

“The whole mansion will know in a moment. If she’s managed to get outside, it’s only a matter of time until–”

Almost as if Morgana was speaking the circumstance into existence, the entire room started to shake. No. Not just the room. The whole school seemed to shudder and groan, the sound of splitting wood resonating throughout the hallways and dorms, and you dragged Morgana back as a huge, knotted vine bloomed up from the corner, leaves sprouting as the vegetation started its takeover of the space. 

“Shit…” You hissed, bolting to the window and seeing the cause of the destruction. Greenery thrived around Erin, her arms outstretched towards the mansion, dolphin-fins of roots rising and resubmerging into the ground toward the building, veins of gnarled ivy spiderwebbing up the outside of the walls, sneaking in through the cracks between windowpanes and brickwork, before growing exponentially. The realisation hit you like a ton of bricks. 

She was trying to bring down the school. 

You flipped up the latch of the window before throwing open the panes and shoving your head through the leaves, your skin itching slightly as you realised it was no regular ivy. Not with the three-lobed points on most leaves, the slightly waxy texture of the surface. It was fucking poisonous. 

Of course it was.

You managed to set your jaw against the instant discomfort, pushing your way through until you could see the ground beneath. Shrouded in shadow. Good enough for you. You pulled back, only to feel a slight constriction against your throat from a snaking vine around your neck. You hissed at it tightened, flexing your tendons as if you could break free with sheer strength alone. But you succeeded only in tightening its hold, your airways becoming dangerously closed off. Thrusting your arms back through the new forest of the window, you held out your hand in desperation, instantly feeling the rough, calloused palm of Logan grasping your wrist.

You hadn’t given him time to ask what the hell you thought you were doing before you’d been completely shrouded in greenery, and the moment he saw your hand back through the expanding knots of vines, he was by your side, claws slicing through his knuckles as he started to slash and swipe at the writhing snakes. His arm wrapped around your middle, the razor tip of his claw dangerously close to your jugular as he tried to surgically remove the constraint, only to find himself being pulled in with you, itching leaves winding up his forearm and over his bicep.

Breathing became difficult, the lack of oxygen making your brain hazy and your movements slow. You felt like you were trying to inhale through a straw after running a marathon, every part of your exposed skin itching and burning from even slight contact with the leaves, red rashes already rising around your face and neck. You hadn’t really thought she’d try to kill you, or anyone for that matter. In all honesty, you saw this as a desperate attempt to stall everyone before she made a run for it. Not kill everyone inside the goddamn school. Your oxygen-starved mind sluggishly thought to the kids in their classrooms, how terrified they must be, and you fucking hoped Storm or Scott had already started evacuating them as your vision started to tunnel slightly, your mouth agape in a futile attempt to draw breath. 

“C’mon…” Logan groaned with effort as he managed to wrench his arm free of the vines, nicking the side of your shoulder with his claws as he did. He didn’t have time for the instant, overwhelming feeling of guilt before he started desperately slashing again to get you free. Silver clashed with emerald with each savage claw until a soft hand got in his way, blood splattering across the wall. 

“Fuck! Those things are fucking sharp!” Morgana cried out, scarlet leaking from the deep slice across the back of her hand. Logan looked at her as if she’d completely lost her mind. 

“The fuck’re you doing?!”

To his chagrin, she just rolled her eyes, before the rivulets of blood running down her arm started to rise and expand, weaving through the now all-consuming wall of poison, staining the beige vines deep red. In his panic, he’d completely forgotten her mutation. It was deliberate. Her getting in the way. It had been on purpose. Understanding her plan, he sheathed his claws and wrapped his other arm around your middle, his grip like steel as, all at once, a sheet of blood exploded from just beyond the window, slicing through the snaking tendrils, useless ends falling lifeless to the floor.

Like a drowned man rescued from the water, you gasped a deep inhale, feeling yourself be tugged backwards from the crimson display and into a tight embrace that was, whilst unhelpful for your breathing, extremely helpful for your panic. You’d have been humiliated if you’d survived everything Kreva had put you through only to die became Erin was too fucking stubborn for her own good. 

“Y’okay?” Logan asked, concern dripping from his voice as he smoothed your hair from your face, wincing as he caught sight of the angry rashes around your neck and across your collarbones, winding up to frame the sides of your cheeks and brow. You couldn’t stop your nails dragging across the unholy itching in an attempt to soothe it, pulling loose bits of skin as you scratched fruitlessly. 

“Shadows…” your voice was raspy, and you felt like you’d swallowed a bag of nails, a bolt of pain shooting through your vocal cords as you tried to speak again. “Need shadow.”

Logan shifted into the path of the lamp and you dissolved into his silhouette instantly, returning only a beat later looking no worse for wear, though fury furrowed your brow and had your jaw tense. 

“Y’okay?” He asked again, only this time he felt a sense of calm seeing you unhurt. Your rage intimidated him only a little, but at least you were breathing this time. 

“M’fine. Fucking bitch. The fuck does she think she’s doing?” You seethed, casting a glare out the now-covered window as if you could kill her with your mind. Morgana huffed abruptly, still in control of the stained glass made of her own blood. 

“What exactly was your plan there? Or was almost suffocating to death a way of trying to get her to see what she the consequences of her actions?” She asked savagely, sliding her now glowing eyes to you and you could feel her irritation at your actions. 

“I was trying to see if I had a quicker way down to her. And I did, until she tried to fucking kill me.” You braced your hand around your throat as if you could still feel the constrictions around your neck. 

Seeing your phantom discomfort, Logan brushed the back of his hand against the one on your throat, a silent reminder that you were safe again. You laced your fingers between his, another silent way of communicating your gratitude, before once again returning to look beyond Morgana’s barrier. 

Unspoken agreement passed between the room, Morgana leading the way as the three of you sped down the stairs, shouting to any passersby to use the passage and get the hell out of there. You almost collided into a panicking Artie, clutching a small stuffed toy in his hands as he looked around desperately for Jubilee. At least you assumed he’d be looking for Jubilee, she’d taken on the role of protector for the boy, though not being that much older herself. 

You crouched and enveloped him in a tight hug, relieved to see he was unharmed. Though through the rushing crowds, it was difficult to make out specific faces. Until a shock of white hair bobbed through the heads of students, Storm managing to fight her way through the throng and in your direction. 

“How did this happen?” She asked by way of greeting, taking Artie from your arms and tucking him into her side. Shame and guilt tightened your gut. You couldn’t help but interpret her question differently. How could you let this happen?

“She got passed us,” Morgana stepped in, placing a hand on your shoulder and no doubt feeling exactly the same as you. “We weren’t careful enough. But we’re gonna fix it. We’re gonna fix this. We just need to get out there.” She nodded to the covered window where you knew the source was. Ororo sighed gravely.

“There’s only two ways this can go. Make sure it’s option one.” Was all she said, before guiding Artie down the hall and disappearing into the thinning crowd. At least most students had managed to get out, though you could only pray none of them had touched the leaves. You clenched your jaw, Storm’s words sinking in. 

She was right. There were only two possible ways this could go. You could convince her she was safe here, and that you all really were trying to get back and rescue the others.

Or you had to kill her. 

A glance at Morgana told you she’d realised the same, her eyes staring unblinkingly at the floor as she processed what the two of you might have to do if you couldn’t get through to her. “It won’t come to that.” You tried, but it was hard to sound convincing when you weren’t entirely convinced yourself. 

But she went along with your false confidence, choosing instead to gaslight herself right alongside you. “Yeah… it won’t.”

It broke Logan’s heart to see your desperation to fix things. To see the guilt etched into the crease of your brow. Broke him further as he watch the both of you understand that you might really have to kill her. You were torn between trying to save your old family and protecting your new one, he could feel it in his own damn soul. 

You couldn’t be battling with yourself like this right now. You didn’t have the fucking time. People were getting hurt and it was your own damn fault. And the familiarity of the situation flipped something in your brain. All at once, the hesitation you’d been feeling disappeared. Concern faded away. Fear locked up. You had a damn job to do. 

“Cut through the vines like before.” You instructed Morgana, steel icing your tone as you weaved through the stragglers, making a beeline for the double doors that normally would have led out into the gardens. Only right now they led into a wall of vines. 

“I uh– yeah, s-sure.” Logan watched recognition dawn on Morgana’s features, a deep sadness flickering in her eyes as she used her fingernail to reopen the wound on the back of her hand, hissing slightly at the hurt, before blood rose from the gash and seeped beneath the door, solidifying and slicing the climbing vines at the base, creating an opening for you. 

With a flick of your wrist, eight separate figures rose from the shadows around you, gliding to your side and waiting with obedient anticipation. Logan’s stomach dropped as darkness slid up your leg, across your abdomen and settled over your face, solidifying in a glassy, thin mask. Morgana gasped weakly, shaking her head at your new visage in a way that had a kernel of concern bubble in Logan’s chest. 

“I’m sorry if I have to kill her.” There was nothing apologetic in your tone. If anything, it sounded like you were completely devoid of emotion, lacking both empathy and compassion for your best friend as you stepped through the threshold and onto the balcony, your shadows following like dogs. 

“Is this–” He started before Morgana cut him off. 

“How she was before? Yeah…” She confirmed quietly, splitting her concentration between maintaining her mutation and watching you jump nimbly from the balcony onto the grass, striding toward Erin, your shadows in tow. “This was how she coped. All those missions. All those victims. This was how she kept going. It wasn’t solid, and she would break sometimes, but she’d just get better at it. And who’s better at hiding than someone who’s made of the dark?” 

His chest constricted with the realisation that, in the relief and disbelief that he really had you back, he hadn’t truly processed everything you’d remembered. You hadn’t been given the time before you launched straight into trying to help the girl you now might have to kill. And when you released your emotions again, when you let down that wall and they all flooded in, he couldn’t stand by and watch as you relived the moment you ended her life. 

He promised he would keep you safe, and he failed. He promised he wouldn’t leave you, and he’d failed. 

But he’d promised he’d find you. And he promised he’d protect you. Even if that meant from yourself. 

“Stay here, help them in any way you can.” He told her, before following where you’d leapt from the balcony. If he could save you the emotional turmoil of having to kill Erin, he would. And if that meant he had to kill her himself and have you hate him forever, he’d be okay with that. But you’d been through enough shit, you’d been made to feel like a monster because of the things you were forced to do.

Not this time. 

“ERIN!” Your voice echoed off the trees, bouncing back to you as you strode toward her, eight smoky figures fanning out behind you, the manifestation of each member of your family. Their heads twitched skittishly as if understanding their purpose in the situation, waiting for the command to rip. To tear. To wreak havoc.

Erin’s outstretched hands faltered, her eyes focussing back to you as the snakelike roots halted, the blooming of flowers and weeds around her feet stalled. She bit back a bitter laugh.

“All this time. You’ve been tryna convince me they helped you. They saved you. But look at you. You’re worse now than when we were back with the others. You tell me Kreva did some fucked up shit to us, which I can fucking smell is bullshit,  but look at what they’ve done to you.” 

Her words fell washed over you like water from a duck’s back, ignoring every pathetic attempt to make you feel bad about what you were. You felt the pull on the threads of your puppets, felt their yearning to make her suffer for what she’d said, but you held them back, tightened their leashes until they came to heel. 

“This was always who I was, Erin. I’ve only changed from your perspective because you don’t know who you are. Who any of us are. Not really Do you really think we spent the last ten years living in harmony? Going to work, coming home, meeting the neighbours, drinking and watching movies? People like us don’t get to have that life.” You were losing patience already. If she wasn’t going to calm down and come to her senses, you’d have to neutralise the threat. The figures shuddered with excitement. 

“Do you know how fucking crazy you sound? When you’re trying to tell me the last twenty years of my life have been a lie? Naji replaced all our memories? He wouldn’t do that,” She shouted desperately, roots and vines around her feet snaking and writhing in response. “Whatever happened to the flat… what happened to Atlas… I can’t explain it. But if we go back, if we go back and just talk to whoever that was, he’ll set them free… He has to…” she pleaded, and you took a steady step forward. “That’s why I have to do this. I can’t abandon him. I have to help them, but I have to help them now. I don’t trust these people. I don’t know these people. Look what they’ve done to you. To Morgana. I can’t let them do the same to me. Not whilst he’s still in danger.”

You tensed your jaw against the sudden wave of melancholy that broke through your walls, pushing it back as hard as you could, your face falling neutral again behind the mask of shadow. “What do you think we’re trying to do here? He’s got Rowan, Erin. He’s got my fucking brother. And I know the kinds of things Kreva will do to him because I remember. That’s what we’re trying to help you to do. To remember so we can form some kind of plan. But if we have to do this without you,” You paused, raising your hand slightly. “So be it.”

Before you can flick your wrist, a large, calloused hand wrapped around your palm, stopping you in motion. 

“Don’t,” Logan growled lowly, though there was no threat in his voice. You clenched your jaw again, testing his strength only to find your wrist held fast in his grip. “This is not what we do.”

You shook your head. “No. This isn’t what you do. You wanted to know what would change when I remembered. Here it is.” You raised your other hand, quickly flicking your wrist before he could catch it, and eight figures walked forward, heads twitching as they went. 

“Call them off.”

“She’s a threat.”

“Call. Them. Off.” He urged, eyes hardening. “Now.” He could see your eyes flicker behind the mask as if something was fighting to get through. You glanced back to where Erin had crouched, arms outstretched in preparation to fight back. She was a threat. The mansion was under attack.

And it was all because of you. 

“I have to put a stop to this.” Your steely voice started to bend, cracks peaking through the shell. Logan caught it instantly, tugging on that small thread you’d left exposed.

“Not like this. You don’t wanna do it like this. Call them off, Firefly.” He heard your breathing stutter, eyes widening as the mask from your face melted away. He dropped your hand, his palm sliding up the side of your neck to cup your face, acutely aware of how close the shadows were to Erin’s location. “Not like this.” He muttered softly, and your resolve shattered. You lowered you hand, splaying your fingers as the figures dissolved into nothing, returning from their positions back up the balcony and through the door where you pulled them from. 

“I–”

“It’s okay. I know. I know.” He pulled you in, cupping the back of your held to hold you beneath his chin, his fingers coursing through your hair, a strong sense of comforting calm soothing the sudden, immense wave of guilt. 

“This is real… isn’t it?” Erin asked quietly, her own resolve seemingly breaking apart. You cracked your eyes open, pulling back ever so slightly to look at her exhausted form, nodding in confirmation. 

“Yeah. This is real. We haven’t lied to you, Erin. We wouldn’t lie to you. Not about this. Not about your life. Who you are. You’ve had enough lies told to you. And Charles can help you sift through what was real and what wasn’t. Just let us help you.” You implored, stepping from Logan’s embrace and toward her, holding out your hand in an entirely different way to before. “Please. You’re my family, Erin. Let me help you.” 

Her toxic green hair fell in front of her face as her head dropped, small sobs shaking her shoulders, and you were by her side as her knees buckled, arms around her frame before she fell to the floor. 

“It sucks. I know. We both know, me and Morgana. We know, but it gets easier. It’ll get easier once you remember. I promise.” Despite the horrors of your own past, it had gotten easier once you were restored. You knew who you were, and you’d come to terms with the things you’d done. You know Morgana had too. And you knew Erin would be the same. 

“‘Morgana and I’…” she corrected weakly, and you raised a brow.

“Huh?”

“It’s Morgana and I. ‘Not me and Morgana’.”

You chuckled slightly. “Well excuse me grammar police.” Your heart soared as she hiccuped a laugh, raising her head to look at you, her eyes shining, tears staining the sides of her cheeks. 

“I’m sorry…”

You offered her an empathetic smile, your brows creasing. “I know. We all are. For everything. Remembering isn’t easy, and it’ll fuck you up for a few hours, but you’ll be okay.” You brought her into your embrace, soothing gentle caresses against her shoulder. “We all will. And we’re gonna get the others back too. I promise.”

“You make a lot of promises now.”

“Cuz I know I can keep ‘em.” You felt her laugh again, sniffing into your collar before removing herself from your arms and standing up. 

“Guess I should probably do something about that…” You turned back to where she was looking at the mansion, overtaken with greenery and wrapping vines, briefly catching Logan’s proud gaze on you. 

“And easy fix. Don’t worry. We have telekinetics for this kinda thing.” You shrugged, getting to your feet as Erin raised her palms, the school creaking with relief as the invasive vines snaked back into the earth with a slight hiss. The moment they disappeared from the doorway, Morgana came sprinting out, racing down the stone steps.

“Everyone okay!?”  She called out, her footsteps pounding on the grass as she all but tackled Erin into a hug, the girl barely able to maintain her footing. 

“We’re fine, Morgo. Just an intense reality check.” Erin responded from where she’d been buried in Morgana’s hair, spitting out small strands as she spoke. “I uh… I’m sorry for causing such chaos. I was just scared, I guess.” She explained meekly, and Morgana only tightened her grip. 

“It’s okay. We both did the same. Not mansion-crushing poison ivy kinda same, but we weren’t exactly quiet either.” She responded brightly, placing both her hands on Erin’s shoulders. “You ready to remember?” She asked, and Erin nodded slightly. 

“Think so… need to see Charles, right?” 

“Right. He should be downstairs keeping track of the students. They’re probably on their way back now actually.”

“Way back?”

Morgana scratched the back of her head, almost sheepish to admit what Erin had caused. “We uh, sorta evacuated the school. Ya know, poison ivy and stuff. Not great for kids.”

You watched them continue their conversation, Morgana’s arm tucked tightly in the elbow of Erin’s, the two girls seemingly thrilled one of them wasn’t trying to kill the other. You smiled slightly before it faded with the realisation of what you almost did. What you almost robbed the both of them of. 

“‘M prouda ya,” Logan said, tucking you safely against his chest. But you just sighed, resting your temple against the beat of his heart.

“I almost killed her, Lo’. Not sure that’s something you should be proud of.” You retorted a little savagely, clearly shamed by your actions. Logan’s heart clenched.

“But you didn’t. You snapped out ‘ve it and chose option one.”

“And if you weren’t here, Erin would be dead and Morgana would be devastated. And I don’t even wanna think about what it would have done to me…” You closed your eyes as he tilted your head up to look at him, lids fluttering open when his thumb smoothed your brow.

“Then it’s a good job I’m here, isn’t it?”

“And if this happens again?”

“I’ll be here for that too. Not gonna let you go, darlin’.” He murmured into the top of your head, pressing a kiss to the crease between your brows and you felt the tension melt from your bones. 

“Thank you.” You whispered, your arms winding around his neck when you felt his lips graze yours, mouth parting instinctively for him. His arms settled around your waist, holding you tight not dissimilar to the way he held you earlier, before this whole thing. 

Fuck, how did he breathe the last two months you weren’t with him?

‘I hate to interrupt,’ You both exhaled an irritated sigh as Charles's voice echoed in both of your minds. ‘However, once Erin’s memories are restored, we have a meeting and I would like the both of you to be present. We start planning today.’ 

Though the intrusion had been unwelcome, once again, a buzz of anticipation flooded your veins. Finally, you’d start forming a plan to get the rest of your family back. Finally, you could start thinking about getting Rowan back. You didn’t have to pace anymore. You didn’t have to think about what he was going through at Kreva’s hands anymore. 

You were coming for him. Coming for all of them. And you promised yourself you’d make Kreva wish he was never fucking born. 

The meeting didn’t go as planned at all. Two weeks. Two fucking weeks. That was how long Charles had said it would take to gather significant intel and stage a rescue mission. It was too fucking long. Who knows what Kreva would be capable of in two weeks? Two weeks! Fuck’s sake. 

You threw open the door to your room, rage burning through your system. You were ready now. Fuck, you were ready two fucking days ago, before you’d even got your memories back. You couldn’t wait another two damn weeks. It was too long. Far too long. 

Maybe you could head out on your own. Take Morgana and Erin with you and just go there yourselves. No plan, no backup, just the three of you. You didn’t particularly like the odds, but it was better than just sitting around and waiting. You were back to pacing, back to laying awake at night thinking. Worrying. Two fucking weeks.

“These things take time,” Logan attempted to placate from behind you, softly shutting the door as he watched you restlessly march back and forth, your hands tangled in your hair. 

“Is that what they told you when it was me they were looking to rescue? Is that what you convinced yourself when it was my life on the line?” You spat back, tone savage as your mind spun, uncaring of how cruel you sounded. You couldn’t tame your tone. Couldn’t tame your fury. And whilst in the back of your mind you felt bad Logan was the one taking the brunt of it, there that feeling stayed. In the back of your mind.

He sighed, understanding perhaps more than anyone how difficult this was. “No. I was thinking the exact same things as you are now,”

“Oh yeah? Didn’t know you were a telepath. What ‘m I thinking then?” You barked, barely pausing long enough to shoot him a glare before you resumed your fruitless pacing. 

“That you should just head out yourself. That it would be easier to do this alone. That they’re being too fucking cautious and you should just storm the place yourself, nobody behind you.” He explained exactly what was running through your head, almost word for word. Huh.

Maybe he was a telepath. 

Or maybe you were just two halves of the same soul. 

You huffed a sigh, sitting heavily on the edge of the bed, your leg bouncing with pent-up energy. “I’m assuming you didn’t do that.”

He shook his head, taking his rightful place by your side, a broad hand settling on your bouncing thigh. “No. ‘cause I knew the best chance of gettin’ you back safely was to wait. It fuckin’ killed me, don’t get me wrong, but it was worth it. ‘Cause I did get you back. It worked and you’re here now because of it, not in spite of it.” 

You rested your head atop his shoulder, trying to calm the electric adrenaline coursing through your veins. “I’m scared, Logan. The things Kreva did in the two months… it felt like a punishment. I’m fairly certain it was a punishment. And now I’ve escaped him, I know he’ll be taking it out on Rowan.” You closed your eyes, fighting against the images flashing through your brain. Bloodied scalpels, exposed organs, your own arms tearing at the restraints on your wrists. 

“What did he do…?” He asked quietly, his hand squeezing your thigh slightly. You shook your head. 

“I’ll spare you the details, but it was some fucked up autopsy kinda thing. Only we were alive. And fully conscious. Ya know, average Kreva things.” 

Fury curled in his gut, and he tensed his jaw to keep from snarling. The moment he got his hands on Kreva he’d delight in tearing him apart. He hated the way you said it so nonchalantly, though he knew it was a way you coped. You had to normalise it in your head, at least for most of the time. 

“Christ…” 

“Yeah… so I got a few new scars to commemorate the occasions. Fun, huh?” You nudged him gently, and he rolled his eyes. He didn’t quite have the same devil-may-care attitude as you did to your scars, both mental and physical, but he could appreciate the way you managed to find humour. No matter how dark it may be. 

“You’re insane.”

“Mhm? You spend almost a century with psychopaths prodding and poking you, see how sane you turn out.” You provoked with a small, mischievous grin, and he genuinely found himself wondering how you managed to be so fucking perfect for him. His body hummed with yearning, fingers dancing across your thigh and he watched your eyes grow heavy-lidded, turning your head to inhale into this side of his neck. “Logan…” you whispered, and he could hear that exact same yearning he felt in his bones against the shell of his ear. 

His fingers inched towards the crease between your thighs, your body heating up in response to his delicate touches, your lips peppering kisses against the side of his neck. He suppressed a groan when your nails dug into his forearm, leaving little crescents that quickly faded. 

Becoming impatient with his teasing, you swung your leg over to straddle his lap, settling yourself on his growing arousal, your fingers dragging lines of flame up the muscles of his back, scratching beneath the white singlet. 

He couldn’t stifle his reaction to your touch, mouth falling open with a quiet moan, his hands coming to either side of your waist, holding you down as you slowly rocked onto him in a vain attempt to ease the ache between your thighs. You hadn’t had sex with him yet since your memories were restored. If Logan was being honest with himself, he was a little afraid of triggering something for you, but the way you panted softly against his lips showed him you wanted him just as much as he wanted you. 

“You sure?” He murmured, inhaling your scent from the dip between your shoulder and collarbone, shuddering as your familiarity washed over him, combining with the sweetness of your arousal. How did you always smell so fucking good to him?

“Do I not seem sure?” You shot back teasingly, pinching the shell of his ear between your teeth and tugging a little deviously. Logan huffed a heated breath against your temple as your hands placed firmly against his chest, pushing him until his spine settled against the comforter atop your bed. You teeth sank into your lower lip, your hands skirting up beneath the white singlet, mapping the plains and valleys of his abdomen with your fingertips, scratching down the sides of his ribs, his muscles contracting and relaxing with you exploring touches. You wanted him so fucking badly. You had been wanting him so fucking badly for the last two days, but you respected his self-control to hold back. You knew he was waiting for you, and you were eternally grateful for his consideration. However, the amount of times he’d unintentionally left you high and dry was driving you up the goddamn wall. 

You stood from his lap, hooking your fingers beneath the hem of your t-shirt and making a show of pulling it from your body. It didn’t matter what you were wearing. Whether you were dressed to the nines or hanging out in your sweats and a hoody, Logan always made you feel hot as fuck. The way his eyes would shamelessly roam your body, scars and all, made you feel like you never needed to hide from him. Everything about you was desirable to him. It was part of the reason you loved him so fucking much. 

Discarding your t-shirt to the floor, your fingers deftly pulled down the zipper of your jeans, swaying your hips as you tugged them down. How you managed to elegantly step from the pool of tight fabric would always be a mystery to him, but a mystery he would attempt to solve at a later date when you weren’t standing before him in nothing but your underwear. You weren’t kidding earlier when you told him you had a few new scars. His mouth watered with the need to run his tongue down the newest one starting from just above your left breast and finishing beneath the right-hand side of your ribcage. He didn’t even want to know how you got that, but he assumed it might have something to do with the live autopsy you were talking about earlier…

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” You quipped cheekily, placing a hand on your hip as if to pose for him. Left in just your bralette and bikini pants, Logan had to check himself to make sure he wasn’t fucking drooling as he sat up, shrugging off his plaid shirt and pulling his white singlet up over his head, dumping them both at the foot of your bed. 

“C’mere,” you squealed as he lurched forward, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist to tug you between his spread legs, his cock already throbbing for you, calling needily for attention he would ignore. “You’re so fucking gorgeous, ya know that?” He murmured against your stomach, nipping sharp little marks into your skin, his tongue tracing that new scar up to where it disappeared behind the fabric of your bra. “S’in my way.” He muttered almost to himself, a hint of irritation lacing his tone as he shoved it to bunch up above your breasts. Your snorted a laugh before pulling it up over your head, tossing it to the small pile of clothes you’d left on the floor.

“Better?” You asked, amusement woven through your tone. Logan shook his head, the tips of his fingers tracing the elastic of your underwear, making you shiver.

“No. Still in my way,” he snatched the hem with his teeth, pulling it back before letting it go with a snap against your hips, leaving you gasping for something more. With a sly, wicked smile, Logan released the constant tension he had on his claws, letting one slip through the gap in his knuckles, tracing the back of the warm metal along your inner thigh. “Didn’t forget about this…” he whispered against your skin, eyes torn between concentrating on what he was doing and watching what it did to you, your back arching toward him as he slotted his claw in the apex of your clothed cunt, biting back a grin as you all but ground against the blunt edge. 

“Such a fucking tease.” You hissed, your fingers winding into the soft, brown locks of his hair, nails digging into the top of his head, pulling a low groan from the back of his throat. You grinned to yourself, tugging harshly on the threads woven through your fingers, earning yourself yet another wanton growl. If he was gonna tease you all damn evening, you’d be damned if you weren’t gonna tease him right back. 

Logan angled his claw down slightly, giving you further room to grind down against it simultaneously making sure he wasn’t in any danger of cutting you at all. That wasn’t something either of you had explored yet, and whilst he was okay with you toeing the line of danger, he wasn’t quite open to hurting you. Not yet. Not when he just got you back. Hurting you was the last thing on his mind. “C’mon princess, use me.” He encouraged lowly, his other hand guiding your hips in slow, languid strokes, pressing his thumb against your hip bone. You whined at his words, sandwiching your lips between your teeth to deliberately deprive him of your sounds. You knew he fucking loved it when you moaned for him, you knew he loved it when he could hear just how well he was treating you. 

Not today. Not if he was going to do nothing but fucking tease you.

He could feel the heat from your soaked cunt, feel every slick movement as you soaked the crotch of your bikinis. All that from the slightest pressure from one of his claws. The implications had his mind spinning. He had an inkling you were locking your sweet noises away from him on purpose, but Logan was nearly always up for a challenge. Removing his claw from your apex, he deftly sliced through the elastic of your pants, growling a chuckle as you gasped again. Sliding to his knees, his palm grabbed the meat of your thigh, shamelessly throwing your leg over his shoulder, exposing your glistening centre. 

“Gonna make you fuckin’ scream, darlin’.” You barely had time to think of a witty quip back before his tongue gently nudged between your folds, hot pleasure spiking through your veins as his nose nudged your swollen clit. You sucked in a harsh breath, your fingers tightening their hold on his hair, twisting through soft locks to hold him in place. Logan’s eyes rolled back behind closed lids, lapping up your sweet nectar with his tongue. 

You couldn’t hold back your guttural moan when his mouth settled over your throbbing pearl, sucking gently against the sensitivity. Your spine curled around his head and you had a front-row seat to the way the muscles in his back tensed with the effort to not throw you on the bed and pick you apart. He snarled hotly when one of your hands left his hair to claw up those same tensing muscles, earning yourself a harsh suck against your clit, vibrations from his voice sending little waves of ecstasy through your system. 

“Logan…” you breathed airily, your tone pitching with a whine when his hand skirted up your inner thigh for his fingers to tease your slick entrance, seemingly content to feel you gush against his fingertips before slowly burying his middle finger inside you. 

He revelled in your gasps, your moans, knowing that no matter how hard you tried, you could never hide just how fucking good he could make you feel. It stroked his ego, your wordless praise going straight to his throbbing, leaking cock. That mixed with the natural aphrodisiac of your essence had him gripping your outer thigh tightly in an attempt to ground himself and keep his shit together. But it was becoming increasingly more difficult the moment you arched into him as the rough pad of his finger reached that little bundle of nerves deep within your silken walls. 

Oh, how he fucking yearned to replace that finger with his cock. 

Your back bowed as liquid pleasure flooded every fibre of your being, unable to stop your desperate grinding against his face, sharp nails clawing into the meat of his shoulder, feeling his soft laughter beneath your palms. He had you. He knew he had you. Exactly where he wanted you. And if you were being honest with yourself, you were all too happy to accept that if it meant he wouldn’t stop. 

“Fuck! Fuck Logan…” You whimpered, hips undulating onto his tongue as he introduced a second finger, scissoring you open before exploring deeping, once again finding that little spot that made your eyes cross and stars dance in your vision. The tension in your gut started to become unbearable, every breath laced with a pitched moan of his name, repeating it like a prayer to the skies above as you threw your head back.

He wasn’t lying. He was going to make you scream. 

Nimble fingers curled inside you repeatedly, massaging your inner walls whilst his tongue continued to lap at your clit, beckoning you further towards that cliff, dangerously toeing the edge when his lips wrapped back around your pearl of pleasure and sucked long and hard.

A quiet scream tore from your throat, somehow still mindful of the fact you were in the mansion and screaming any louder would definitely alert your poor neighbours of what was going on inside the walls of your room. Heated lightning flashed behind your eyes as your arousal crested into sheer ecstasy, your thighs clamping around his head to hold him right there whilst your orgasm shook your very core, your muscles contracting with every endless wave of pure, hot rapture. 

Logan groaned long and deep into your cunt, using his own voice to heighten and lengthen your orgasm before it became too much for you and you were forced to tug him back, faced with his glistening visage of proud glee. You guessed two months of no sex had been building your sensitivity to a crescendo, your thighs still trembling slightly though you were by no means done. Fuck you wanted to devour him.

“Jeans. Off. Now.” You managed to pant darkly, watching his eyes sparkle with the unspoken promise as he wiped your slick from his mouth, maintaining your gaze as he lapped at the back of his hand. Christ, he was fucking filthy sometimes. 

“Yes ma’am,” he quipped back, slowly lowering your leg from his shoulder, making certain you could still stand on your own before he rose to his feet, capturing your lips in a brutal, passionate kiss as he passed your face. You gasped into his mouth, tasting yourself on his tongue, your own hands flying to the buckle of his belt, flicking open the steel and tightening the leather around his waist briefly, a small display of assertion, before removing it entirely and looping it around your hand. Oh, you had plans tonight, plans to show him just how much you’d missed him. To show him you had no intentions of letting him go. 

Dexterous fingers popped open the brass button atop his jeans, carefully dragging the zipper down before shoving both jeans and briefs from his hips, leaving him to handle the rest whilst your coal-hot palm circled his pulsing length. 

Logan’s jaw fell slack as he kicked off the fabric, brows pinching as you slowly pumped his cock, your thumb dragging along the prominent vein running down the underside of his length. The clinking of his belt in your other hand had his eyes drifting down, his mind straining to form a coherent thought as you looked at him questioningly. 

“What’re you thinkin’?” he managed to grit, having to wrap his fingers around your wrist to stop your motions before he lost himself again. You pursed your lips, dragging your leather-bound hand across his chest and up to his shoulder.

“Honestly?”

“Honestly.”

You paused for a moment, a wicked glint gleaming in your eye. “I wanna wrap this around your neck and pull on it whilst I suck your fucking soul out of your cock.”

Logan almost choked on his own gathering saliva, and he should really be ashamed of how fucking hot you just made him, his cock throbbing at the mere thought of your intentions. “And you said I was filthy… fuck darlin’. Might’ve been the hottest thing you’ve ever said.” He breathed, delighting in the downright villainous look in your gaze. Holy fucking shit. 

“Yeah? Want me to collar you like a dog?” You had no idea where any of this was coming from. Sure you’d had fantasies of tying him up and worshipping him the same way he’d done to you, but all this dirty talk? You had no damn clue. 

“Fuck yes.” He hissed, and your lips split into a devilish grin. 

“Sit.” You instructed, and he did just that, no questions asked, legs spread for you to kneel between, his cock twitching needily. “So obedient.”

His chest inflated as you rose on your knees, twirling the length of the belt from your hand and winding it around his thick neck, feeding the end through the buckle and pulling until it was snuck against his skin. All the while he nipped sharp bites wherever your wrist was in reach of his mouth, his palm holding your arm still so he could trail his teeth up to the crease of your elbow. 

You gave the belt an experimental tug, admiring the way he gasped at the leather tightened briefly around his neck, pulling his head back from your skin. You felt his cock nudge your stomach with the slight buck of his hips in response to the sensation. 

Settling back down to sit on your heels, you kept the end of the belt clasped tightly in one hand, the other returning to palm his cock, admiring the way he gasped loudly as the centre of your hand circled his sensitive tip, spreading clear pre-cum up and down his shaft. You leaned forward, savouring the bite in your knees as your hot breath fanned the underside of his length, your tongue only gently grazing that same vein you ran your thumb down earlier. 

“Fuck…” he sighed, his head tipping back, bracing one hand behind him and the other atop your head, fingers scratching at the roots of your hair. It had been too fucking long since he had you like this, and the tightening leather around his neck only served to further his heightened sensitivity. 

Opening your mouth, you wrapped your lips around his leaking tip, your tongue lapping against his frenulum, tugging at the belt as his hips bucked into your mouth, craving more. He hissed, baring his teeth in a silent snarl as you hollowed your cheeks, sucking in time to the rhythmic pulsing of his length, your other hand dragging teasing nails up and down what you hadn’t fit in your mouth yet, before all at once, you tore your hand away, opened your throat and swallowed the rest of his cock. 

Logan’s back arched, a stuttered moan tearing from his chest as your nose buried itself in the course hairs at his naval, gasping raggedly as you gave the belt another harsh tug, cold leather digging into the straining tendons on the sides of his neck, pressing against his prominent adam’s apple and constricting his breathing for a moment. The second it loosened, a hot wave of ecstasy coursed through his veins as he inhaled, honey-laced lightning filling his lungs when you pulled back from his cock, only to run your tongue down the underside of his length again as you sucked him off. 

“Shit… shit sweetheart. Feel so fucking good…” he groaned as you worked him, every drag of your hot mouth pulling him closer to his high, every small gag tightening your throat around his throbbing cock. Tears lined your eyes as you took him as deep as you could once again, your hand bracing against his hip as he bucked sharply, uncontrollably, into your mouth. He gasped to the ceiling as his head fell back, tightening the leather as you held the end in a death grip, not providing any slack for him. Brows pinched, mouth agape, Logan felt himself cresting the pinnacle of pleasure, hand grasping your hair as he failed to still his grinding hips.

“Gonna cum baby, f-fuck, gonna cum…!” he rasped a warning, only encouraging you to hollow your cheeks further and bring him over the edge in a similar way he’d done to you only moments ago. Your tongue danced against his pulsing vein, nails digging into his hip bone as you sucked long and hard, tugging the belt sharply and sending him into trembling ecstasy. 

A throaty, drawn-out roar wracked his throat as he tumbled head first into his orgasm, mindful to tear his hand from your head as his claws ripped through his knuckles, shooting rope after copious rope of cum down your throat, his thighs shaking with each delicious wave. He couldn’t find it in him to care for the tearing of fabric as he ripped clean through your comforter, powerful tides of liquid hedonistic gratification sending his mind spinning and clouding his senses. 

You didn’t stop your ministrations, swallowing every drop you pulled from him before continuing to circle the back of your tongue against his increasingly sensitive tip until he was bucking to escape the heat of your mouth. You had half the mind to tug on the belt once more, to get him to behave, but the fresh ache in your cunt was loud enough to release him, wanting nothing more than to feel him quake inside you. 

Pulling off with a soft pop, you delivered a few kitten licks to his still leaking slit before looking up to admire your work, Logan’s blissful, fucked out visage doing nothing to satiate your building desperation. 

When you said you’d suck his soul out, he didn’t think you meant literally. Basking in the afterglow of his orgasm, Logan had to check himself to make sure you hadn’t somehow killed him, his heart racing with the force of his high, chest heaving as he fought for breath. You loosened the belt slightly and he groaned lowly with the sudden intake of oxygen, yet another wave of pleasure forcing another bubble of milky cum from his tip. Softly, you unhooked the belt from the buckle, sliding it from around his neck and discarding it to the floor along with the rest of your forgotten clothing, your hands cradling the fading bruises on either side of his throat.

Cracking his eyes open, he genuinely had a moment where he did think he was dead because you looked otherwordly above him. A seraphim. Or a succubus. He couldn’t decide which. 

“I’d say that was a successful addition, wouldn’t you?” The audacity you had to expect him to respond right now was unbelievable, your soft arms wrapping around his freshly healed neck as you went to straddle his settling thighs, mindful of his overly sensitive cock. You knew it wouldn’t be too long until he was ready for another round, so why not spend that time teasing him a little?

“Fucking hell darlin’...” he managed, his claws sinking back between his knuckles before his hands came to cradle your waist, finding enough strength to pull you with him as he shuffled back onto the bed, propping himself up against your pillows and headboard. “You tryna kill me or somethin’?” he grinned, a brow arched at your wicked little giggle. 

“Wouldn’t be a bad way to go.” You retorted, winding your hands into his hair soothingly,  moulding your lips to his so he could taste himself on your tongue, your own essence still lingering in his mouth.

“What’s that then? Attempt three? Four? On my life?” he asked, pulling back a fraction to watch you roll your eyes playfully. 

“Who’s counting?”

Logan shook his head fondly. All the fear of losing you. All the pain of failing to protect you. The agony of waiting. It was all worth it to see you here, now, with him. He still couldn’t quite believe he had you back in his arms. “Fuck I love you. So fucking much, Firefly.” He murmured against your lips, your eyes widening slightly before pouring every ounce of adoration in your heart into a fierce kiss. 

“Want you, Logan…” you breathed, feeling his cock already hardening against your cunt, grinding your hips to catch your clit on his balls. 

“You have me, sweetheart.” He responded, bracing his hands against your back to switch positions, your world spinning for a moment before you nestled back into the pillows, strong arms caging you in. “You have me.” He repeated, teasing the head of his cock through your slick folds before slowly breaching you.

Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, ankles crossing at the small of his back as he filled you, the desperation of before having shifted to something more sensual, more passionate. He didn’t just want to fuck you. He wanted to love you. 

Your brows pinched, eyes closing, an airy gasp floating from your lips with the familiar stretch of his length filling your perfectly. He stilled as he settled to the hilt, basking in the feeling of your tight walls clenching around him, shaky breaths fanning your temple as he fought with himself not to cum on the damn spot. 

“Look at me…” he urged softly, your lids fluttering open to meet his intense gaze, watching his jaw slacken when he pulled out to the tip, before rolling his hips back into you, mesmerised by every micro-expression you made. Your thighs tightened around his waist, heels digging into the base of his spine as you encouraged his movements. He kept his thrusts slow and deep, reaching every inch of your inner walls, grazing deliciously against that bundle of nerves he was teasing with his fingers before you had him in your mouth. 

“I love you.” You whispered, hands holding onto the sinewy muscles of his shoulders, welcoming him into your quivering cunt with every rhythmic pulse of his cock breaching your glistening entrance. Logan huffed a gravelly groan, soft eyes searching tracing every detail of your features, the way your mouth fell open, the way you fought to keep your eyes open when his length bushed that little spot of pure ecstasy inside you, the crease in the centre of your brows when they pinched. He committed each little expression to memory, before losing himself completely in your silken heat.

Logan increased the pace of his movements, pleasure coursing through his veins as you shuddered around him, your nails piercing the skin of his shoulders, desperation fuelling the clawing across the top of his back. Your pitched moans went straight to his cock, urging him to bury his face in the side of your neck and inhale your sweet scent, driving him to give you as much as he could.

“C’mon baby… can feel you clenchin’ round me. Let go,” he instructed, savouring the way your thighs trembled, your spine arching. “Cum f’me darlin’. Show me how good it feels.”

Your symphony of moans climaxed along with your body, the shadows in the room quivering and whipping out as you struck your high, cumming in long, drawn-out waves and creaming on his pulsing cock. Logan tensed as he refrained from spilling into your for as long as he could, determined to prolong your ecstasy before he reached his own. But the moment you surged up to bury your teeth in the side of his neck, he came undone.

“Sh-shit! Fuck!” He growled your name through grit teeth, heaving gasps as he lost control of his hips for the second time that night, bucking into you with renewed desperation as his muscles contracted, rapturous nectar pulsing from his cock as he pumped into your waiting heat, your walls gripping and milking him for all he was worth. 

Phantom tides of lightning caused his length to twitch within you, and it took nearly all his strength not to collapse and crush you beneath him, rolling to the side, your legs still wrapped around his waist, keeping him nestled inside you.

Logan pulled your into his sweat-oiled chest, his heavy breathing calming slightly as you nuzzled into the hollow of his throat, your own hot breaths fanning his already heated skin whilst the two of you basked in the floating afterglow, his scruff scratching lightly against your forehead as you buried your face in his neck. 

He held you as you came back to earth, untangling your legs from his waist, hissing as he pulled out and lifted his side for you to remove your other leg from where he was essentially holding it hostage with his weight. 

“Where the fuck did that whole belt thing come from?” he asked with no small degree of humour in his voice once he remembered how to think properly. He felt you shake with laughter, tilting your head up to gaze into his mirthful hazel eyes. 

“Been wanting to do something with that damn belt since the first time we slept together. Maybe the first time you kissed me, actually…” you hummed thoughtfully, and he cocked a brow. He remembered that first morning you woke up together, your confession over leaving the belt somewhere within reach just in case.

He always wondered what the case would have been. Now he knew. And it was the single hottest thing you’d ever done. 

“Such a freak.” He mumbled, gently hitting his nose against yours as you rolled your eyes.

“You’re saying that as if you didn’t cave the moment I suggested it. I asked if you wanted me to collar you and you responded, and I quote, ‘fuck yes’.” You did your best to imitate his voice, failing miserably as you couldn’t reach that low or gravelly. Logan rolled his eyes, shoving your head back into his neck where you couldn’t see just how wrapped around your finger he truly was.

“That was a shit impression.”

“Whaddya mean, bub?” You did it again, earning yourself a sharp pinch to your waist before you devolved into fits of giggles. 

“Stop.” He fought back a grin, refusing to show you how amused he truly was by your antics. “You’re a hundred-and-five years old, act your age.”

“Logan if I acted my age I’d be dead. And so would you, for that matter,” you quipped back, earning yourself a snort of laughter above you.

“Good point well made.”

“Speaking of which…” you raised your head from his neck once again, propping yourself up on your elbow. “I never did thank you, did I? For not telling me how you found out my birthday. Guess I never got the chance but– thank you. I know you don’t like lying to me so it means a lot that you did.” 

You watch him struggle to accept your gratitude, clearly battling between the guilt of not telling you at the time and the want to keep you in the dark to stop you from dwelling.

“How long’ve you known?”

“Since Charles restored my memory. After my freakout. It was the first thing Jade showed me. My birthday in the cabin,” you responded softly, idly tracing the muscles of his bicep with your fingers. “We gotta go back, by the way. I think I left my gift there.” You admitted sheepishly.

“It’s here.”

Your eyes shot back to his face, and he couldn’t have recreated your expression of surprised awe if you had given him all the art lessons in the world. “It’s here?”

“Yep.”

“Wh- h- what? When? How?” your pitch increased with each question, your brain working overtime to try and remember when he would have had the time to pick it up in the rush of both packing and leaving that night two months ago. 

“Remember you forgot ya purse?” He asked, a fond glint dancing in his eyes.

“Well yeah but–”

“Grabbed it on the way out. It was on the mantlepiece next to that ridiculous picture you took.”

“I like that picture!” You defended avidly, remembering the day you took it. It was a freezing autumn afternoon, though there was nothing but sunshine in the sky. You’d wrapped a scarf around his neck as he worked on the bike outside, snapping a sneaky pic of him all snug. It was one of your favourite pictures, and you’d got it printed and framed without him even knowing about it. How you managed to do any of that behind his back you wouldn’t say, but he let you display it because it made you happy. 

“Besides the point. It’s uh– in my closet.” It was his turn to sound a little guilty, soft tones laced with culpability.

“Your closet? Why? It’s gorgeous.” You tilted your head as much as you could with the awkward position, struggling to understand why he would shut away such an incredible display of his woodworking skills. 

“I couldn’t look at it…” he confessed, and you inhaled a micro gasp of understanding. It was a reminder of what he’d lost for the last two months. You hadn’t really taken the time to contemplate just how hard things had been for him. In a way, having your memories completely readjusted had worked in your favour. You couldn’t miss what you didn’t remember. But Logan? He remembered all of it. And he’d spent the last two months wondering if he’d ever see you again. 

“Logan…” you murmured, your hand leaving his arm to cup the side of his face, heartbreaking as he leaned into your touch a fraction, the scruff of his beard tickling the heel of your palm. “I’m so sorry.” You didn’t quite know why you were apologising. Maybe for having it easier with not being able to miss him the same way he missed you. For not truly understanding what he went through. For being so focused on yourself and your brother, you hadn’t taken a moment to think about his experiences. Sure, you’d asked how he was holding up, but it didn’t seem enough.

“S’okay. You’re here now.” It was a reassurance for himself more than anything else, you could see it in the way he savoured your touch, your thumb dragging gently back and forth over his cheekbone.

“I’m here now.” You affirmed, nudging his nose with yours before resting your forehead against his. “I’m here.”

“I wanna spend the rest of my life with you, firefly.”

Your eyes blew wide, searching his face for the deception you knew you wouldn’t find. “What…?”

“Not a proposal or anythin’, don’t worry. Just wanted you to know. Come far too close to losin’ you to not say shit like this, I guess.” He tried to play it off like his heart wasn’t in his damn throat, watching every micro-expression you made, looking for any sign of rejection. But the way your eyes watered slightly, lips splitting into a smile of sheer, unadulterated joy, told him that there would be no such thing from you. 

“I wouldn’t be mad if it was, but I am yours. For however long you’ll have me.” You continued to trace his features, the creases at the corners of his eyes as his mouth quirked into a soft, fond smile. 

“So ‘til one of us keels over. Might be some time.”

“I think I’m okay with that.”

The rythmic tapping of nails against oak occupied your mind as you started blankly at the presentation screen ahead of you, details of the latest draft of the search and rescue mission glowing faintly on the screen. But you finding it difficult to concentrate on Scott’s authoritative voice when his plan didn’t make any goddamn sense.

“Wasn’t that the entrance you used last time? Fairly certain Kreva would have worked that out by now…” Morgana offered with uncertainty, and you grunted in agreement, your leg bouncing in growing irritation as once again, the meeting was going fucking nowehere. Logan’s hand settled on your thigh, his thumb caressing soothing circles onto the top of your sweatpants. 

“There’ll be twice as many guards there than there were last time, if there were any there at all.” You followed up, speaking through where your teeth chewed at your cuticles, your tapping nails ceasing to settle you other palm atop Logan’s knuckles, a silent gesture to reassure him you were alright. 

“Guards won’t be a problem.” He snarled quietly, resisting the urge to prove his point by releasing the tension in his knuckles. You bit back a smile. 

“We also gotta remember,” Morgana continued, flipping her hair back behind her shoulder. “Kreva will also be expecting something from us now. Especially since he grabbed Rowan for this exact reason. He’ll be expecting you.” She turned her attention to you, and you frowned in acknowledgment. You knew that. You all knew that. And you’d lost count of the amount of times people had tried to convince your to stay here and not head out with them. Each conversation ended fairly abruptly, with you telling them to fuck off. 

“And he still has his trump card, Naji.” Erin chimed in, her cheek resting on her palm as if she was bored out of her mind, her other hand mindless tapping on her phone. You knew she was actually listening pretty intently, her brain working overtime to come up with creative solutions to the problems that just wouldn’t stop arising. She wanted to get Atlas out with as little risk as possible, and she was also one of the people who had tried to convince you to step back, but backed down when you promptly mentioned she wasn’t the only one missing someone she loved deeply. 

That shut her up pretty damn quickly. 

“I thought we’d decided Jean would take care of Naji?” You couldn’t keep the frustration in your voice as you were once again having to go back over issues that had already been resolved. Why the fuck was this being brought up yet again? And awkward silence blanketed the room, Jean, Scott and Charles exchanging quick, uncertain glances. 

“We did… but we decided it wouldn’t be a good idea,” Scott said, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms, already defensive. As he should be.

“What? Why? Who else better to engage in a mind battle than a fucking telepath? And I’m not being funny, but I’m assuming Charles isn’t coming, correct?” You turned your head to the Professor as he nodded in confirmation.

“I’ll be there in Cerebro.” Was all he said, and you looked back to Scott pointedly. 

“Exactly. So why the hell wouldn’t we send Jean to Naji?”

“It’s too dangerous.” He stated simply, and you fought the urge to lunge across the table and slap the shit out of him. 

“Of course it’s dangerous. This is dangerous for all of us! But Jean agreed, right?” You tnow turned to her, desperate for her to confirm what had already happened. But she too looked hesitant.

“Yeah, I did.” She sighed, and you gave Scott a look of ‘fuck you, asshole’. But he only tightened his jaw.

“So why are we now deciding that sending a telepath after a memory manipulator is a bad idea?”

“Perhaps we should adjourn this meeting for later?” Hank offered after being all but silent the entire time.

“No, fuck that. This is important. Do you guys know what’s at stake here? I’m assuming Logan wasn’t the only one to read the fild, right? You do know what Kreva did to us, yes?” You asked the room to to yet another chorus of quiet, confirming your fears. Barely anyone in this room knew exactly what they were up against. “You’re fucking kidding me…” You breathed, trying to focus on Logan squeezing your leg to help ground your fury. 

“She’s right,” he chimed in, and your heart surged. No matter what, you knew he would fight your corner. He always did. “Pretty sure the only ones here who can fight against mind battles are Jean and Charles. None of us can put up those kinda defences and if that fucker snatches up one of us, the whole plan goes outta whack.”

“And what will you be doing?” Scott shot from across the table, and you felt Logan tense slightly. 

“What I do best.” He responded flatly, and you got the distinct feeling this meeting was about to become a lot more heated. 

“So whilst you’re running around carving through carrion, Jean will be fighting the real battle, that right?” Okay, now it was really taking all your concentration not to smack his glasses off his fucking face. What the hell did he mean by real battle?

“I think Hank was right, maybe we should–” Kurt began awkwardly from the corner, clearly already hating the growing confrontation. But he was instantly cut off by you, rising to Scott’s challenge.

“Oh I’m sorry, is keeping your girlfriend safe by taking out hundreds of gunmen not enough?” You bit, venom dripping from your tone. Scott scoffed as the rest of the room shuffled anxiously, Ororo pinching the bridge of her knows between her fingers as if this whole conversation was giving her a headache. 

“‘His girlfriend’ is in the room.” Jean placed a hand on her hip, her eyes hardening as she looked between the two opposing sides. But it seemed neither Logan, Scott nor yourself noticed.

“My girlfriend is the only reason you made it out that damn place with your mind still intact, and the only reason you didn’t go ape shit and kill the rest of us like you did Jade.”

“Scott!” Storm barked, but it was far too late. The damage was done. Your head tilted to the side, shadows in the room rippling and writhing as your control over the threads inside you started to slip. 

“The fuck is wrong with you?” Logan snarled, his hands balling into fists as he too engaged in the same battle to keep control. 

“Just because you got a new girlfriend Logan doesn’t mean you can throw mine into the fray. It wasn’t so long ago you were eyeing her up at every opportunity,” he turned back to you. “I’d be careful if I were you. Wait ‘til the next pretty girl waltzes into the school, you’ll be old news to him.”

The following silence was so thick it tasted like bitter resentment. You swore it was only two months ago Scott was congratulating the both of you on your newfound relationship. Why the fuck was he acting like this.

It didn’t matter anyway. He’d said what he’d said and you slowly stood from your seat. The room watched you with prey-like caution, Scott’s fingers dancing across his glasses, Ororo’s hands flexing in anticipation. They were still scared. Still scared of you. And you couldn’t help but think it was with good reason, because the way you were currently feeling, you could have drowned this whole room in darkness without hesitation. 

But you wouldn’t be who they saw. Only Morgana and Erin seemed at ease, Erin with that same bored look, tapping away on her phone, and Morgana looking as if she’d just watched the latest episode of the juiciest TV show.

“Meeting adjourned.” You said with deathly quiet, before stalking from the room, hearing a sharp ‘the fuck was that Scott’ from Ororo as you let your feet carry you away. You refused to feel insecure in your relationship with Logan. It wasn’t that long ago, maybe a week or so, he was saying how he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. You knew Scott was bitter about the way Jean had behaved, and the man placed a lot of the blame on your partner, despite the fact she was the one who’d lead him on. Gave him hope where there wasn’t any. Not that any of that mattered now. It was in the past. Old news. And news you’d already been told, by Logan himself. 

That wasn’t even what got to you. It was his comment about Jade. Whilst you’d put your self-hatred and guilt to bed, it still didn’t mean it wasn’t easy for it to rise again. You felt the all to familiar waves of regret wax and wane in your chest, the memory of her death playing on repeat in your head, through your own eyes. You clenched your jaw against them, trying to remember that she had forgiven you for what you’d done. She didn’t hold it against you, and the locket currently bouncing against the hollow of your throat was a testament to that.

You didn’t even realise you’d made it outside until the sharp winter air seeped through your bones. At least the sky was clear, clusters of stars blinking down at you, but rather than finding peace, you instead felt judgement. Which was ridiculous. But you felt it anyway, in the passionate deaths of a million fireballs light-years away from Earth. You sucked in a deep breath, allowing the icy air to soothe the burning in your chest, letting your bubbling rage settle into a gentle stew. 

You heard him before you saw him, heavy footsteps crunching on gravel before a large, warm jacket settled atop your shoulders, bathing you in the comforting scent of whiskey and pine. You stayed silent for a moment, Logan’s hand finding yours subconsciously.

“Did you kill him?” You asked by way of greeting, and you heard a soft huff of small laughter by your side. 

“Not yet. Want me to?”

“I’m real good at hiding bodies.”

“That I don’t doubt.” 

Logan felt his gut twist as you continued looking skyward, hoping you were finding some kind of solace in the feeling of unimportance when faced with the rest of the universe. Feeling small was something Logan was too familiar with, but when staring into the infinite, glittering void above, he found a comforting sense of mortality, despite thus far proving to be immortal. But then he remembered Scott’s scathing comment, and he was brought back to the issue at hand. “You know it’s bullshit, right?”

You blinked for a moment, failing to understand what he was referring to. “What’s bullshit?”

“The whole thing about the next pretty girl…” he clarified quietly, his fingers flexing and squeezing between yours.

“Oh, pff, that? I’m not worried. Like I said, I’m real good at hiding bodies.” You grinned slightly, and you watched his face relax in relief. Was he really worried about such a petty comment? It soothed your aching heart to know he was. 

“Good.” He murmured to the top of your hair, his hand leaving yours to wrap his arm around your shoulders.

“Good that I can hide bodies?”

“That too.”

You hummed in contented agreement, basking in the warmth of his presence, returning your gaze to the night sky. “You okay? That was quite a shot fired from Scott.” You quieried, craning your neck further to look at his side profile, his eyes still trained above.

“‘M’fine. After you left they got into an argument so that was kinda cathartic to watch.”

“Who? Scott and Jean?”

“Mhm.” He hummed in confirmation, and you snorted a laugh.

“What was she saying?”

“That he needs to stop treating her like she can’t handle herself, that she isn’t made of glass.”

“Sounds familiar.” You lightly elbowed his side and he raised a brow down to you, deftly flicking your forehead before you could pull away in time. 

The quiet of the night invaded the space between you, settling comfortably atop unspoken affection. “What he said about Jade…”

“I’m fine, Lo’. Sure, it kinda caught me off guard, but I probably should have expected it. Especially since I was questioning his fragile authority.” You shrugged, but Logan knew the depth of the wound Scott had cut. He didn’t think there would be a time when digs about Jade wouldn’t resurface those feelings of fear and liability. 

“I love you, ya know that?”

You sighed warmly. “Yeah, I know.” You responded, once again letting the silence settle for a beat before you inhaled a breath. “Jean? Really?”

Logan groaned in response, it was the same conversation you’d started when he’d first told you about that whole situation. “Yeah, I know. Don’t.”

“But like, okay she’s hot, and a red-head so like, double whammy, but she’s kinda creepy. Feels like something’s going on under the surface, ya know?”

“Look, she was the first person who’d shown me any kind of kindness for a long time, a’ight?”

“Okay but like, if someone helped you across the street, would you fall in love with them, too?” 

“What am I? Eight-five?”

“No, you’re hundred and thirty. Eighty-five’s pretty sprightly in comparison.”

“And that’s enough talkin’.” He wrapped both arms around your shoulder, hiding your face beneath his chin to muffle your voice, your rapid breaths of laughter fanning his neck. “It wasn’t the same, anyway.”

“Hm?” You tried to pull back, only to be met with resistance from Logan’s hand against the back of your head. 

“It wasn’t the same, how I felt ‘bout her. To how I feel ‘bout you. Never was ‘n never will be.” He didn’t need to say it. You both knew he didn’t need to say it. But that’s why it meant so much more that he did. Your soul sang within the centre of your very being, to be so loved after all you’ve gone through, you never thought something like this would be possible, let alone allowing yourself to love someone back. Even with Jade, you felt as if you didn’t have the right to love her.

But Logan? He made you feel so safe. 

“I know.” You repeated into the home you’d made in the crook of his neck. Logan exhaled a hum, Adam’s apple sending soft vibrations through your nose as he simply held you for a moment, before sniffing the air twice the combined scent of earth coated iron had his lips pulling into a slight smile.

“She’s all yours.” Logan stole a glance behind him to where both Erin and Morgana were standing silently, respectfully waiting for the sweet moment to naturally come to a close. When you pulled back this time, he let you, his hand falling to your waist before pecking your lips with a honeyed kiss. 

It was only when he stepped back from you did you realise you had company, too wrapped up in his presence to hear their shoes on the gravel. He offered you a nod of reassurance, and you offered him a warm smile in return before he turned his back and heading back inside, his jacket still hanging snugly across your shoulders. 

“That was cute,” Erin began as she tucked her phone into her back pocket, the two girls coming to stand on either side of you, both of them looping their arms through your elbows. “Scratch that. He’s cute. Can’t believe you’re actually dating that gorgeous hunk of a man. So unfair.” She pouted slightly, and you chuckled. 

“I know right? We escape for seven years and what do we do? Become strippers and gardeners. You escape for seven years and find yourself a partner, a family and a team. Talk about bullshit.” Morgana chided with a cheeky grin, her eyes flashing in the low light. 

“Yeah well… I did also kill the woman I loved so it wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows.” You admitted, watching their expressions morph from cheeky to melancholic in a heartbeat. You guessed they still weren’t quite used to that fact yet. You’d had longer to come to terms with it, at least after Charles restored your memories. They’d only found out a week ago. It was still a hard pill to swallow. Jade was gone. For good. 

Your breath clouded in front of your face as you returned to look skyward, finding less judgment in the stars and more comfort. If nothing else, they’d been a constant in your life. Whether you were out killing for Kreva or out fighting for your family. They’d always been there above you. Keeping you company on the long, difficult nights. 

“I’m gonna miss her,” Erin whispered into the night, her arm tightening around yours. “She was–”

“Fun.” Morgana finished, casting a glance at her two sisters by her side. You huffed a laugh.

“We were fun. Whilst we weren’t being fucked up. We had a lot of fun.” You felt a slight burn in your eyes. It was only just dawned on you that your lives together were coming to an end. When you got Atlas, Rowan, Naji and Joes back, what would happen to Nimlo? Would you all stay together? It seemed unlikely. Erin didn’t seem all too comfortable in the mansion, and you had an idea that once she was back with Atlas, that would be it for the two of them. They’d go their separate ways. Rowan would stay by your side, maybe get a job here at the school teaching physics or something. Joes could never stay in one place for very long, always flitting between rooms for a ‘change of scenery’ he would say. Naji would most likely become a recluse, not that he was particularly social, to begin with.

But Morgana? You had a feeling she was directionless. Torn between different paths. You knew she could stay here. The team would welcome her with open arms, and you’d seen the way she got on particularly well with Kurt, the two of them cracking up in the corner after one of them made some stupid joke. But there was no guarantee that, after this, you’d ever see many of them again. 

“You remember when we graffitied that guy’s wall?” Morgana broke the silence, her voice thick with a similar emotion to yours. 

“And Joes had to distract him by telling him the longest, most elaborate story about the time he went to get his ass checked out by a doctor only to realise he just had pin-worms?” Erin continued, clearing her throat slightly so she could speak without her voice breaking. 

You cracked a broad grin, shoulders shaking with teary laughter as you remembered that night vividly. You were all a bored band of misfits with a can of paint and an idea, drawing a dick and balls on one of the neighbourhood’s walls before being caught with a flashlight in the middle of the act. Joes rushed into performance mode, telling this poor man the story of his completely fabricated visit to the doctor’s in graphic detail. He was so stunned it gave you precious few moments to make a break for it, sprinting down the side streets to the disgruntled shouts of an angry man. You vaguely wondered how he was doing now, before remembering he never existed. 

“Or when we stole that woman’s car after being caught shoplifting.” You chimed, looking at Morgana pointedly. She gaped in mock offence. 

“I refuse to take the blame for that. Atlas was supposed to be on watch but somehow got distracted.” She sent a faux glare across you to Erin, who’d done her best to craft a mask of complete innocence. 

“I had nothing to do with that! You wanna talk about poor lookouts? How about we never put Rowan on scout duty ever again? Why did we think it was a good idea to put the damn light-weaver on lookout, at night time?” 

The two girls both turned to look at you. “Hey! Why ‘m I getting the blame for that? It was Jade’s idea! She said to ‘let him have a go’, so don’t you look at me like that!” You couldn’t suppress your wicked smile, feeling a little at fault but honestly, not giving a rat’s ass. “Is it my imagination or did Jade shift into a hamster and hide herself in the pet shop just to bite the finger of the guy who cut her off that one time.”

“Oh my god no she did! I remember that! She came back with a shit-eating grin saying she ‘got the fucker’ and we were all so confused!” Morgana cackled, the three of you reminiscing over the time Jade had returned from shopping only to find out she’d been pretending to be a hamster for the last four hours in the hopes the motherfucker who cut her off on the road would somehow waltz in. How she managed to actually pull it off blew your minds. How she even knew he’d come in at some point that day was even more impressive. 

Bubbles of rapturous laughter died away as reality settled in your chest, the silence of the night overtaking you once again. “What happens after this…?” You asked quietly, slightly fearful of ruining the moment. But the two girls by your side just sighed, having clearly been asking themselves the same thing.

“Who knows? We gotta get them back first.” Morgo replied with equal quiet, the looming mission now growing ever-present. “But Erin, for the love of all that is both holy and unholy, will you please tell Atlas you love him? Don’t know about the others, but I’m getting real sick of the constant glances of longing between the two of you. Makes a girl lonely, ya know?” She emphasised her point by shoving you in her direction, in turn sending you colliding with the green-haired girl by your side. She shoved you back into the redhead, and you had to tighten your arms around theirs to get them to stop. You weren’t a damn weapon!

Well, not in this context anyway.

“Yeah yeah, alright. Probably would be a good time anyway, with heightened emotions and all that. But we do realise they're not just gonna waltz out of there with us, right? Kreva’s probably done to us what he did to Jade and just forced them all to forget about us.” Erin spoke your fears into reality. It had been on your mind, the idea that Rowan wouldn’t even know who you were when you saw him again, but that was a bridge you were going to have to cross when you got to it. 

“Then we’ll just do what they did last time. Bamf them the fuck out of there with Kurt.” Morgana explained plainly as if it were the easiest solution in the world. When, in reality, it would only most likely work for Atlas. Joes could also teleport and Rowan could disintegrate into the light the same way you could through the dark. Naji would hopefully be too caught up with Jean to notice he’d been snatched away, but that plan was still apparently a raging debate. 

“Can Kurt do that? I mean, he could only do it a few times before all hell broke loose before,” Erin raised, her fingers fiddling the hem of her oversized hoodie, and you shrugged in response. Honestly, you didn’t know what was going to happen, though you knew one thing was certain, and that was getting Rowan back.

We’ll stay in touch, right? After all of this? Like, we’re not just gonna go our separate ways and never speak again. Like, we’ll still talk to each other…? Right?” You could hear the broken uncertainty in Morgana’s voice, another unanswered question. You wanted to. Fuck did you want to. These people were your family. You didn’t want them to leave just yet.

“Yeah… yeah. Course we will. Right, Erin?” You prompted her awkward silence.

“Erin?” Morgana leaned to look across you straight into the girl’s avoiding gaze.

“I… I don’t know. I’d like to. But it’s just… ya know, we’ve been through so much. We should learn how to exist without each other. How to live our own lives.”

She had a point. Ever since restoring your memories, all you’ve thought about was getting NLMO bacl together. But what if not everyone wanted to be together? What if, like Erin had just said, some of them wanted to grow apart? Start their own journeys that didn’t involve experiments or toruture or co-existing with people who could be taken and fundamentally changed at any minute. 

“I get that…” You offered quietly, earning yourself a look of indignation from Morgana and a look of gratitude from Erin. “Myself excluded, it’s hard to imagine any of the others lead extremely fulfilling lives in the seven years after the facility was destroyed. Maybe Erin has a point…” you paused, turning to Morgana’s thoughtfully hurt face. “Maybe it is the time for us to find our own ways. Obviously, that doesn’t mean we won’t be in touch with each other.”

“Exactly!” Erin encouraged with a broad smile, nodding emphatically as Morgana’s expression lightened slightly. 

“I guess so. I just… I don’t really know who I am outside of Nimlo. I’m sorta–”

“On the outside?”

Kurt’s voice chimed from above you, and the three of you looked up to see him swinging like a large, wingless bat from one of the windows. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt. I could hear you from my room. But I understand, Morgana.” Using his tail, he slowly lowered himself so he could drop to the floor, not wanting to startle the three of you any further by disappearing and reappearing in a cloud of smoke. “I uh– I know what it’s like to be on the outside of things…” He admitted quietly, almost sheepishly, and you cast a glance at Erin, who in turn wiggled her eyebrows at you.

“Yeah? What did you do?” She queried, looking the mutant up and down in a way that was just shy of innocent. 

“I stuck around here. Found my purpose. My purpose was with these people. Perhaps you find yours too.” You suppressed your knowing grin, the man’s shy smile making you almost giddy as Morgana pretended to think it over, placing her fingers on her chin theatrically. 

“Huh… Thanks for the advice, elf-man. I’ll think about it.” She winked in true Morgana fashion, and you gently tugged on Erin’s arm to leave the two of them out in the starlight, letting them have their moment the same way they let you have yours with Logan. 

“They’d be cute…” Erin mused, and you snorted a laugh, shrugging off Logan’s jacket as the warmth of the mansion made you almost sweat beneath the leather. 

“She’ll eat him alive.” You responded flatly, opening the door to the kitchen only for your eyes to land upon three mugs atop the table, the one in the centre you knew all too well, and the aroma of hot chocolate greeting your nose. Marshmallows slowly melted atop the surface, and you let yourself hum a smile as you lifted your mug to read the little, crinkled piece of paper beneath it, a brown circle staining the paper.

‘Cold out there. Warm up before coming to bed. I don’t mean you, Morgana. L. xx’

“I think I’m in love with your boyfriend,” Erin stated with a wry grin, lifting one of the three mugs to her lips and savouring the sweet treat. You sighed wistfully, letting the rich aromas warm you soul with the tenderness of the gesture.

“Yeah. I love him too.”

“Who are we collectively in love with?” Morgana asked, not too far behind the two of you having finished her conversation with Kurt. You didn’t exactly know what the two of them spoke about, but there was an extra kick in her step that hadn’t been present beforehand. You guessed, whatever it was, her life had some kind of direction now. 

“Logan.” You and Erin replied in unison, and Morgana nodded in exaggerated understanding, her eyes too falling on the sweet treat with an even sweeter meaning. 

“Was this him?”

“Yep.” You answered proudly, leaning against the counter, both hands cupped around the heat of the mug. 

“Oh girl you got it good. Do you know how good you got it? Cuz you got. It. Good.” Morgana hummed into her drink, and you really didn’t know how she managed to guzzle down half of the mug’s contents considering it was still scalding hot. But the way she sighed in satisfaction had you chortling. “Why can I have a smoking hot boyfriend who makes hot chocolate for me?”

“Because yours is busy pining from the room upstairs,” Erin commented over the steam of her drink, and you clamped your lips tightly shut, eyes widening as you knew Morgana definitely would have heard her.

“Aaaaand that’s my cue. Have a good night you two. Please try not to kill each other, it’s so tricky to get bloodstains out of this flooring.” You grinned, opening up one of the top cupboards and stealing a packet of smoked mixed nuts before you left, still clutching your hot drink in both hands. There was no way Logan would already be asleep by the time you joined him in bed, and you also knew there was no way he would say no to having a little pre-bed snack. Usually, that meant he’d lie between your thighs for hours, but you didn’t think you had the energy to let him have his way with you tonight. The mixed nuts were more of a distraction tactic than anything else. 

“Night girlie!”

“Sleep well, and please don’t be too loud if you have sex!” Morgana called after you and you sniggered under your breath. No promises, Morgana. You were making no promises.

Maybe you were the kind of person to bite at your cuticles and pull at the skin of your lips. You never thought you were, but more recently you’d found yourself with loose skin clutched between your teeth that you’d torn from your body. The air in the Blackbird was thick with anticipation, with silence accompanying the low hum of the jet engines and the constant roaring of blue flame. With Morgana and Kurt opposite you, Logan and Erin on either side of you, and Ororo, Scott, Jean and Kitty each taking up one of the seats, you’d all assembled that morning to finalise the plan of attack. It had taken Scott another few days after that argument to finally come around and agree to the idea of Jean occupying Naji whilst the rest of you set to work evacuating, and whilst he still wasn’t keen on the idea, Charles had managed to placate him with the reassurance that he would be right there with her from Cerebro. Nobody was going to be left on their own during this. You all knew you had somewhat of a battle coming up, and none of you were about to leave someone behind. 

It wasn’t in the nature of the team.

Your leg bounced slightly, every situation playing out in your head, what you were about to be faced with turning in your mind like a carousel of anxiety. Rowan. Rowan. What state would he be in when you saw him again? It had only been two weeks, but in all honesty, it had felt like months since you’d escaped again. It was highly likely all memories of you would have been replaced, but that didn’t mean you were ready to see the look of unfamiliarity on his face. Was this how Logan felt? The time he came for you? Or did he not have any ideas?

You glanced to where he’d settled his hand atop yours. You found it endearing, how he disguised his own comfort as providing comfort for you. You knew he didn’t like flying. He’d told you as such months ago. It freaked him out, being thousands of feet in the air with nothing but physics and steel standing in the way of plummeting to death. Well, some of you would die. If you landed in the middle of a field during the day, you’d be screwed for sure. 

Twisting your wrist, you intertwined your hands, slotting your fingers between his knuckles and squeezing gently. He raised a brow, turning from where he was looking out beyond the cockpit to where you were focused on tracing the patterns of the steel on the floor.  A thumb brushed gently across the back of your hand.

“Y’okay?” He murmured, and you took a deep breath, quickly debating between being truthful and everyone on the ship knowing how little confidence you had in this plan, and lying to him, which you really fucking hated doing. You knew he hated it too, but you didn’t know if you could face the uncertain looks that were bound to find their way to you if you were honest.

“Fine…” but you let him see right through to your soul, your eyes crystal clear as you showed him just how not fine you really were. You were terrified. Of seeing Kreva again, of seeing Rowan again, of something going wrong. And there were so many things that could go wrong. 

He responded by wordlessly pressing a kiss to your temple, the scruff of his beard lightly scratching the side of your face as you leaned into him, his hand leaving yours to wrap around your shoulders, resting his chin atop your head. You sighed into him, closing your eyes to bask in his scent. In his touch. This was home, for you. Wherever he was, that was home. Logan was your home. 

You hoped he knew that.

“Landing in five. Everyone ready?” Scott called from the pilot’s seat, flicking various switches above his head as you heard the clunk of the landing gear beneath your feet, the world around you fogging up as you dipped below the cloud cover, Scott engaging the cloaking device the moment you all saw the twilight ground beneath. Your heart leapt into your throat as you peeked around Kitty’s seat, the telltale lights of the ‘environmental research lab’ illuminating acres of land in the darkness. From the outside, it really did look innocent. Somewhere that was focused on saving the world through renewable energy. But you knew what lurked below. You’d hidden the skeletons in the closet for Kreva too many times to count. 

A bubble of rage curled in your gut. You’d thought long and hard about what you wanted to say to the man who’d orchestrated so much agony in your life. There was nothing you could do about his great grandfather, the fucking genius behind the whole idea, but you sure as hell could make his grandson wish he was never fucking born. 

In fact, you intended to.

Erin secured the various pockets on her cargo pants, each labelled with a different symbol for different plants. Morgana skillfully flicked about the butterfly knife in her hands, before slotting it back into the guard at her left wrist. It was the perfect position for a quick slice to her palm. 

You guessed everyone was ready, from the grim looks they gave each other. You suppose you were too. Or at least,a s ready as you could be before facing the horrors of your past once again, hopefully for the last time. With a nod to both Erin and Morgana, the three of you stood, taking a collective deep breath. 

“We got this,” Morgana said with more confidence than you felt, but you nodded along anyway. If you didn’t truly feel it, you supposed you’d just have to gaslight yourself into feeling it. This was the first stage of the plan. Draw them out. Since Erin had said Kreva apparently needed all of you to convince the government his experiments have yielded helpful results, you knew he wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to get the three of you back in one fell swoop whilst assuming he has the upper hand. That was when Jean, who would remain on the ship, would take hold of Naji, and Kurt would start the evacuation. Scott, Ororo and Logan were mainly backups to keep the guards from interfering. But it was too simple, which was why your mind was working overtime to try and plan for every eventuality. 

Honestly, if he knew, Scott would be so proud of you.

“‘Course we do. Easy stuff in comparison to what we’re used to. This is nothing.” Erin grinned, and you honestly couldn’t believe she was so relaxed, considering how close she was to getting Atlas back. You would have thought she would have been a little more anxious, but you were glad to see she was holding herself up pretty damn well.

“Hey,” Logan uttered your name, inhaling a long breath as you turned back to him. This was the part he was least looking forward to, not that he was particularly looking forward to any of this. But simply having to watch you walk into danger, willingly, he knew it was going to tear him apart when it was first agreed upon, and now the moment was here, it was a shock he was able to keep himself together. “If anythin’… goes wrong, call f’me, ‘kay?” he braced both his hands on either side of your neck, his thumbs positioned beneath your jaw as if you would even try to look away from him. “I’ll hear ya. No matter where you are. I’ll always hear ya.”

Your arms snaked around his neck, fingers winding into the soft locks at the back of his head. “I will. I promise.” You vowed, gasping sharply as he fixed his lips to yours in a kiss you wished could last a lifetime. His mouth moulded passionately against yours in long, languid movements, as if he had all the time in the world. Your heart cracked slightly, refusing to entertain the possibility that, if something goes wrong, this could be the last time you hold him. But you quickly shoved all and any thought like that to the back of your mind. You wouldn’t let that happen, and you sure as shit knew Logan wouldn’t let that happen.

You parted breathlessly, whispering his name against his lips, you lashes fluttering open to find him already looking down at you, eyes brimming with shattering adoration. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” 

Logan shook his head, resting his brow against yours. “Don’t need to. Said you’re mine for as long as I’ll have ya.”

“Til one of us keels over.” You recalled, a small smile pulling at your lips. “We’ve got time.”

“I know.” He breathed, though he was still reluctant to let go of you. He knew he had to, for the sake of this one last mission, but he found himself hesitating. 

“I love you.” You whispered against his lips, and he hated how it sounded like a goodbye. It wasn’t, of course. He’d go through hell and back to make sure it wasn’t, but it still tugged at his heart.

“I love you too.” He responded with another press of his lips against yours. The ship shook slightly as the gear touched the ground, and Logan finally released you from his embrace, stepping back as if he had to physically keep himself from bolting after you the moment you left the hold. You knew how he felt. It was taking all of your concentration to walk away from him, every step feeling as if cement had filled your legs, heavy boots thumping against the ramp as you, Erin and Morgana stepped out into the cool night breeze, the whispering of trees left you feeling slightly unnerved, as if nature itself was alerting Kreva of your presence. 

Taking the lead, with two members of your old family flanking both sides, you steeled your nerves, flicking your wrist to summon three figures of shadow to tail further behind. They were a signal for the others. If one disappears, things have gone to plan. Two meant standby. And if all three disappeared…

It meant things had gone terribly, horrendously wrong. 

You broke through the lining of trees, the glass double doors looming above you as your boots cracked and crunched against the gravel car park for guards disguised as employees. It was no wonder nobody did much research into this place when on the outside it looked so inconspicuous. There was a slight whirr of movement atop the left-hand side of the door, a white security camera twisting and zooming in on your location. You knew exactly who was watching you, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make your skin crawl. 

“KREVA!” You shouted, your voice echoing through the trees, several crows flying out from the canopy behind you. Shadows whipped and writhed around your feet as you stood just outside the cone of light from the interior, Morgana’s blood floating above her hand where she’d nicked it with her knife, Erin’s hand buried deep within her pocket, her fingers no doubt tightly wrapped around a cluster of seeds. 

A crackle of static slashed through the resulting silence of your own shout, and you looked to the other side of the door where two orange lights fluttered beneath two small speakers. 

“Well well well, I’d love to say what a surprise, but that would be a lie.” Kreva’s smug voice resonated through the car park and you bristled instantly, your lips pulling back into a snarl. “I’ve been waiting for you, Eight. Quite patiently, might I add? I could have just come and raided that quaint little school again, but where would be the fun in that? It’s much more fun to watch you deal with the betrayal when you realise what’s really been going on.” 

You had to remind yourself not to ask questions. You couldn’t appear clueless, that way he would know for sure he had the upper hand. The thought of being behind on intel scared the shit out of you. How could he possibly be ahead of you? You’d been gathering information for two weeks, and you knew Kurt was extremely careful. So how the fuck could he possibly–

Your blood froze as you felt the slightest brush of something against your boot, and looking down you could feel your face drain as tiny, scattered seeds littered about your feet. Before you had a chance to whip back, a shoulder collided with the centre of your back, sending you sprawling into the light, several heads of giant Venus Fly Traps surged towards you. With a desperate flick of your wrist, you released the hold you had on the three figures back at the ship, and you knew Logan would notice immediately before a sharp pressure across your chest squeezed the air from your lungs. Morgana’s screech of fury was cut dangerously short, and you refused to let the fear of her death consume you, your hands bound by your sides by the furious clamping of teeth.

Erin stepped passed the two of you and watched Kreva appear from within the facility, the doors of a lift opening from inside the lobby, the gangly motherfucker almost waltzing as he approached the double doors. Craning your neck, your eyes met Erin’s, and you could see her internal battle between explaining herself and staying silent. 

“I didn’t have a choice…” she said after a while, tears lining her eyes. “He only needs you and Rowan. That’s what he said. He didn’t need us. And if I handed you over… he’d set the rest of us free.” She finally explained, and your throat tore with a scream of rage. How fucking stupid could she be? Did she really not know, after all this time, Kreva was fucking lying? 

“And Morgana?” you strained, watching grief pass across Erin’s features, her eyes flickering with sorrow. 

“She wouldn’t have understood. But you always wanted to protect us, right? And this way, you can protect us and set us free at the same time. I… I’m sorry, about Morgana. But this was the only way.” 

“I should have– fucking killed you!” You hissed, writhing within the jaws of the Fly Trap, crying out as one of the teeth flicked back and pierced your arm, heated blood flowing down your elbow. 

“Now now, Eight. That’s no way to talk to your family now is it?” Kreva held out his arms as if he expected Erin to run and embrace him. But at least she had the good sense to hold back, eyeing the man suspiciously. “I know what you’re thinking. How could Six have possibly told me what was going on?” He jeered, spinning where he stood as a familiar roar echoed in the distance. Your breath petrified in your chest

“Logan…” you rasped, desperation clawing at your limbs as you fought to tear your arm from the Trap’s teeth, uncaring whether the plant tore through flesh and muscle. You’d endured worse.

“You know what’s just so darn wonderful about the age of technology? It’s that nobody really notices how much or how little time someone spends on their phone! And when we received that first call from Six, oh you can just imagine how excited I was!” Your eyes flew wide as you remembered. It wasn’t something you had particularly took note of, and it wasn’t like Erin had been glued to her phone, but there had been a few instances you thought she was on it at inappropriate times. 

Like in planning meetings, for example. 

“We had a deal, Kreva. Eight for Atlas. I don’t care about the others, just give me Atlas and I’ll turn her over.” Erin clenched her fist and you grit your teeth against the mouth of the Fly Trap tightening around you, spots swimming in your vision. 

“Yes yes, alright. Five!” Your head spun as you watched your brother materialise from the light, Atlas’ elbow held tightly in his grip as he brought him through too. You watched his golden eyes fall on you, recognition flaring in his irises and you thought for one small moment Kreva hadn’t messed with his memory. 

That was before his expression darkened with fury and he extended his hand, a blade of glowing light forming around his arm, the same way you could create one with shadow.

“Take a breath, Five. I know. But revenge is a dish best served cold, especially against one’s own family. I remember the day she abandoned you without so much as a glance back. Do you?”

So that’s what Kreva had replaced you with. Memories of abandonment. You opened your mouth to scream again, only for Kreva to place a finger to your lips, Erin’s hand squeezing even tighter. “Shh, shush now. I haven’t even got to the best part yet. You see, I know of the little backup squad you have in the clearing over there. I didn’t just want Six’s betrayal to tear you apart, Subject Eight. I wanted to break you down, for everything you’ve done to me.” Quivering rage seeped into his voice before he took a breath, that same condescending smile pulling at his lips the moment after he composed himself. “So I sent Naji after your boyfriend. I’d be powerful with both you and Five on my side, but with The Wolverine as well? I’d be nigh on unstoppable.” He whispered, and terror replaced every furious fibre of your being. You hadn’t heard anything from the rest of the team since Logan’s roar. That was until heavy boots crunched through the undergrowth accompanied by the sound of something weighty being dragged along. 

“Who needs an army when you have The Wolverine?!” Kreva called out to an invisible audience as Logan lumbered through the tree line, a body slung across his shoulder and another two dragged behind in each hand. A sob wracked from your chest as you noticed his dark eyes, no trace of the fond warmth you’d come to find in those hazel irises. Covered in blood, Logan threw the two bodies at his feet, before carefully lowering the third from his shoulder. Naji, with a singed hole punctured through the centre of his chest, lay still on the gravel. 

“Shot him ‘fore I could do anythin’. Rest’re dead.” He growled and grief shattered your fragile heart. In one fell swoop, everything you loved had been ripped from beneath your feet and you felt yourself plummet, falling completely limp in the jaws of the Venus Fly Trap as the cold realisation settled in your gut. 

You’d lost. You’d lost everything.

Kreva sighed dramatically, kicking his heels against the ground as he crossed to nudge Naji with his foot. “Shame. Would have been useful to readjust her memories. Not to worry though, we’ll figure something out. Who’re these lovely specimens?” He asked, crouching low next to a blood-soaked Ororo and an unconscious Scott.

“That’s the shit-stick who shot One. That’s the bitch who fried Three.” Logan responded the complete lack of emotion in his voice dragging you deeper into disparity. Joes was dead too, it seemed. What had happened to Jean? To Kitty? You didn’t want to think about it. You already knew the answer. The crimson dripping from Logan’s knuckles told you all you needed to know. 

“You see, Eight? Things could have been so much smoother. Nobody had to die but now look. Everyone you’ve ever loved is either dead or against you. And I can’t force you to forget about it because One is dead too. We’re now the same, you and I. We both have to live with the consequences of our actions.” He spoke in mock mourning, and your eyes slid from Kreva to Logan as he was escorted to your side.

“Please…” You whispered thickly, whether you were begging him to remember or begging him to kill you, you honestly didn’t know. But a hollow void opened in your chest when you couldn’t see any trace of recognition in his eyes. He didn’t know who you were. 

Now you knew what it felt like.

“Kreva.” Erin prompted with steel lacing her tone. “Our deal.”

“Right, right, yeah. Uhm, actually, no.” Before she could react, Rowan took a swift step forward and with a swipe of his blade, cut a clean slice through her throat. Erin gurgled a gasp, her hands slowly reaching for the fresh wound, thick rivers of blood staining her pale skin, leaking down her neck, soaking her shirt. She fell to her knees, eyes wide with shock, the Fly Trap loosening its grip around your body as it died alongside her, shrivelling and sinking into nothing.  

You hit the ground with a soft thud, rolling slightly before bracing your body up on your elbows. You couldn’t turn around. Couldn’t turn and face everything you’d lost. Morgana was dead. Erin was dead. Kitty was dead. Scott, Ororo, Jean, Joes, Naji… 

And the Logan you knew, the Logan you loved, he was gone too. The sharp tip of a blinding blade sliced a thin line beneath your chin, tilting your head up to look into the eyes of your brother, eyes burning with loathing and betrayal. How ironic it seemed. 

You could let him do it. Lean forward and let the blade pierce your throat, die gurgling as Erin had if your body didn’t dissolve first. But you knew you couldn’t. Your subconscious strength to survive against all odds wouldn’t let you. 

With the slight crunch of gravel, Kreva crouched down before you, tucking a grimy lock of hair back from your face with disgusting care. “I’ve spent too long orchestrating this to let anything happen to you. Now, I know it will be harder without Naji to adjust that irritating little memory of yours, but you need to come back to us, Eight. We need you. Your brother needs you,” he murmured with the viper venom of an unfaithful lover. You didn’t fight it. You couldn’t. You let the yearning to be needed, the yearning to save consume you, and despite all the pain, all the agony Kreva had caused, you nodded slightly. “You were always my favourite subject, Eight,” he whispered, before turning back to Atlas and Rowan, the former’s eyes still trained on Erin’s lifeless body. “Deal with the bodies in the clearing. Wolverine, if you would be so kind.” He gestured back to where you hadn’t moved from the floor, and Logan stepped over you, roughly hooking his hands beneath your arms to tug you to your feet. An hour ago, you would have melted into his body, found comfort in those very same arms. 

Now all you felt was fear. Icy terror trickled down your spine where once you’d felt warmth. And whether it was because you still hadn’t processed everything you’d just lost in a heartbeat, you couldn’t discern, but your shattered heart felt the slightest phantom caress of his thumb against your bicep, the ghost of a reassuring squeeze.

The same gesture of comfort he’d give you if you were anxious in a meeting, or stressed before a class. 

Kreva glanced from where he was watching Atlas and Rowan stalk into the trees back to you, his brows raising as his eyes settled at the hollow of your throat, the golden locket glinting in the low light. With a tilt of his head, he took a step toward you, reaching out to where it rested against your neck.

“Firefly.”

Your spine straightened, breath caught in your throat as you realised. You hadn’t imagined the touch. It wasn’t some fucked up production of your overwhelming grief. With a swift slash of steel and a thick, wet crunch of splitting bone, there was a beat before you registered what had happened.

Kreva’s outstretched hand twitched on the gravel, blood staining the stone, no longer connected to his arm. There was a deafening scream of agony from the man before all hell broke loose. Shock had locked your limbs as you were shoved back, the crackle of lightning and resonating boom of thunder split the sky overhead, blasts of red energy igniting the treeline as a pitched ringing pierced your eardrums repeatedly. 

“Morgana…” You whispered, finally coming back to your senses and almost falling over yourself to get to the red-head lying limp on the floor. Sharp stones and pebbles bit into your knees as you skidded to her side, desperately rolling her onto her back to assess the damage. Her neck was swollen badly, bruises blooming around her throat. With two shaky fingers, you held them against her wrist, praying you’d feel something, anything that might even resemble a pulse. 

You waited, whilst various screams and roars echoed around you, you waited with bated breath, trying to concentrate on just feeling for her, your own panic rising the longer it took. 

“C’mon Morgo… c’mon!” You breathed frantically, pressing harder into her wrist as if you could pull a pulse from her arteries yourself. You tried to take a deep, calming breath, your own racing pulse getting in the way of feeling one for her. Quietening your mind, if only for a moment, you focussed, heart, leaping the moment you felt the slightest push from her wrist. Faint, slow, but there. 

A cry of relief tore from your throat as you gathered her in your arms, pressing your brow against hers. The rapid crunch of feet against gravel caused you to snap your head up, arms tightening around her body protectively, baring your teeth as Atlas raced towards you, his brows pinched. 

“It’s me, it’s me!” He held his hands up in surrender, and you blinked at him, confusion clouding your mind.

“Wh–– How? I don’t–”

“I don’t remember everything. Not like you do. But after you escaped, Kreva was so focused on Rowan that he almost forgot I was here. By the time he remembered, I let him think Naji had already worked on me. He showed me what I needed to know, that this was all a fucking lie.” His hands started to glow that healing blue, glowing particles flowing from his palms to wrap around Morgana’s neck, entering through the layers of her skin and repairing whatever it was Erin had broken.

Erin…

Oh fuck.

“Altas, I–”

“I’ll get to her in a second. Just… just give me a moment.” He hissed, the bruises around Morgana’s neck fading quickly as if they were never there. You still didn’t understand. Less than a minute ago, you were drowning in helplessness, forcing yourself to accept that you’d lost. Kreva had won. And now, as you finally raised your head to the chaos around you, you watched as he retreated into the facility, alarms blaring, crimson lights flaring.

And Logan, bloodstained and heaving, looking back to meet your eye. With one last glance to Atlas and a quickly healing Morgana, you struggled to your feet, taking a shaky step toward him. Then another. And another. 

Logan hesitated as he saw the trepidation on your face, his claws sinking back between his knuckles when you paused before him. He knew what you were searching for, your exhausted gaze flickering across his features and he let you see. Let you see that none of it had been real. Jean was alive and working on an unconscious Joes. Scott and Ororo were okay, Kitty by their side after securing the car park, all and any guards now buried beneath the ground suffocating. Kurt was alright, currently by Morgana’s side after bamfing onto the scene, his concern etched into his pinched eyebrows. 

“It was the only way we could get to you…” he explained softly, his voice bringing you back from the depths of suspicion, your features falling slack as you surged forward into his arms, and he wasted no time in wrapping you up, securing you against his chest.

“I thought I lost you,” You whispered raggedly against his neck, allowing the paralysing fear to leech from your heart. “I thought Naji–”

“He tried,” Logan interrupted tenderly, his fingers winding through the back of your hair. “But Scott got to him first. I’m sorry, Firefly. I’m so sorry. Joes is okay, Jean’s working on him now, but there wasn’t anything we could do for Naji…” He explained quietly, and you nodded a little numbly. In the face of losing everything, you guessed this was the best outcome you could have hoped for. 

“Where’s Rowan?” You asked, leaning into Logan’s touch as he cradled the side of your face, pulling you from the crook of his neck to look into your eyes.

“Still with Kreva. Bastard disappeared the moment Storm lit the place up. I think he’s lookin’ to burn everythin’ to the ground…”

Your breath hitched, remembering that this was Kreva’s backup plan. If he couldn’t get you back, he’d destroy everything and leave no evidence. Only the words of those who’d survive.

If anyone would survive. 

“I have to stop him. Rowan will destroy himself.” You explained, panic solidifying into determination as several muffled shouts echoed through the car park, torchlights waving erratically in the darkness and body upon armoured body flooded the entrance to the facility, three rows of masked guards pointed guns towards you and Logan. A low snarl left his lips, and he subtly moved you behind him, removing his hands from your body before his claws split through his skin.

A delicate hand on your shoulder made your head turn, Kitty’s steely smile telling you all you needed to know. She could get you there. Phase through bullets and bodies and get you to Rowan. To where you needed to be.

“Phasers forever, right?” She grinned, and you felt your own mouth split into a smile. Ororo flanked her left side, Scott sliding to a stop by Logan’s right. You knew this was it. This was the make or break. Either you succeeded here or you failed but no matter what, everything ended tonight. Right here. Where it all began. 

“Hey… freakshow!” You whipped to look behind you at the croaky, strained voice of Morgana, looking a little worse for wear but nonetheless on her feet. You sobbed a laugh of disbelief. “Give him hell for me, yeah? Fucker gets what’s comin’ to him.”

You grit your teeth, sending her a solid affirming nod, before turning back to the ranks in front of you. The back of Logan’s hand grazed your fingers, and it warmed your heart when you realised, even when faced with countless adversaries, he was still mindful not to hurt you with his claws. You brushed your thumb over his raised knuckles, bending your knees in preparation for the sprint of a lifetime, adrenaline coursing through your veins. 

“Let’s fucking go.” You hissed, taking the first step forward. 

And that was all that was needed for gunfire to reign supreme, bullets passing through your body thanks to Kitty’s touch on your shoulder, racing harmlessly through the prattle of shrapnel, Storm’s lightening striking the earth in front of you, Logan’s roar of pure, unfiltered rage fueling your every step. A burst of blinding hot energy exploded the front of the facility, rubble and brick crashing down in front of the door just as you stepped through the threshold, the immediate cacophony of battle muffling the moment you emerged on the other side. 

Pulling out of Kitty’s grip, you raced back to the ruined doorway, desperately pulling away rocks and wood. You needed to see him. You needed to make sure he was okay before you followed Rowan and Kreva. A loud thump rattled the remaining broken glass and you jumped back, watching as blood pooled on the floor, seeping through the remains of the porch. 

“We gotta go. They’ll be fine, okay? But they won’t be if you can’t stop Rowan.” Kitty urged, her hand returning to your shoulder to placate your panic. You knew she was right. You knew she was, and you knew you had to let it go. You trusted him. Of course you did. You trusted he would be okay. You’d seen him heal multiple times from so much worse than this. He’ll be okay.

He’ll be okay.

With a deep breath, you nodded, and she pulled your shoulder slightly in the direction of the elevator. It was surreal to think that, all this time, whilst you were screaming and suffering, this was above you. It looked no different to any other kind of research facility. Banners with cartoon images of trees hung from the ceiling, the words ‘Renewable Energy!’ plastered on every available surface. If you had the time, you would have looked around a bit to see just how the Kreva’s had managed to cover their tracks so damn well. But urgency pumped through your blood as you reached the elevator doors, almost punching the button through the damn wall.

But there was no response. No telltale ding. No little light. The power had been completely shut off. 

“Fuck’s sake!” You cursed, your eyes frantically searching for a shadow to slip into. But it was difficult to see with the crimson lighting constantly revolving in circles. This already wasn’t exactly going to plan, and with more voices dancing along from various forking hallways, you knew you were running out of time. 

“Okay, I got a plan,” Kitty stated confidently, crouching low to the seam of the doors and sticking her hand through the solid surface. “So, predictably, the elevator isn’t up here. But, I’m thinking that it’s gonna be real dark in the shaft, right?” She explained and you caught on quickly. “So I get us in there and you get us to the bottom without breaking either of our legs. Sound good?”

“Works for me.” You shrugged, sending one last look to the raging battle beyond the rubble. But when Kitty didn’t move, you looked back at her, raising a brow of confusion. “What?”

“Nothing… just wasn’t expecting you to agree, that’s all. Was kinda waiting for you to tell me you’ll figure it out yourself so yeah, a bit shocked…”

“Now is not the time.” You huffed, grabbing her wrist to place her hand back on your shoulder. “We’ll talk about my teamwork character arc later, ‘kay?” Kitty smiled wickedly, sticking half her body through the doors. 

“I’ll hold you to that.”

One moment you were in the lobby, the next you were falling through the elevator shaft. She was right above one thing. It was almost pitch black inside. Taking advantage of the low lighting, you gripped her tightly, releasing the threads on your body and pulling her into the shadows with you. The wind in your ears died instantly, and the feeling of gravity pulling you to your death ceased. You were nothing. You weighed nothing. You were a concept. Consciousness. A sense. You flowed like water and flew like time. 

And it took less than a second to drag yourself and Kitty down to the ceiling of the elevator below you, reassembling your molecules and knotting the threads of Kitty back together for her. She took a deep breath, her voice echoing up the shaft as she shook herself out. 

“God it always feels so weird! Does it feel weird when I phase you like that?” She asked, wiggling her fingers in front of her face to make sure they were all still there. You shook your head with a small chuckle, cracking your neck to the side. 

“Not really. Sure, it’s kinda weird to have shit pass straight through me, but not in this kinda way, I guess.” You shrugged, letting her gather herself back up before phasing the both of you through the ceiling of the elevator and through the closed doors. 

Now this was the facility you remembered. The images struck you like a ton of bricks. Clinical white hallways, bleached ceilings and walls, blinding lights on every damn surface. The stench of chemical cleaner and stale blood sent your empty stomach roiling and you had to fight the urge to dry retch. You knew where he’d be. At least, you could hazard a guess. There was always a room reserved for you and Rowan. It was your special little chamber where Kreva liked to run his experiments. A wall splitting the two of you, one drowned in shadow, the other illuminated with light. 

Steeling your nerves, you let your feet walk you down the world’s worst memory lane. For a place that had been destroyed seven years ago, they’d rebuilt it as if nothing had ever happened. Each corner was exactly the same. Each observation room was perfectly curated to mirror what it had been like before everything went to shit. It was all hauntingly familiar. 

“You okay…?” Kitty asked slowly, her eyes flickering across each laboratory you walked passed, and you didn’t have the heart to tell her you knew exactly what each and every room was for. You knew exactly what instruments lay where and what they did. You didn’t need her to know any of that. It wasn’t her burden to bear.

“Yeah… ‘m okay. S’wierd being back here, but I’m okay.” You responded truthfully, surprising yourself with how well you were taking it. It didn’t matter that every damn second you had to remind yourself you weren’t trapped here, and you were free and had been free of Kreva for the last two weeks, and the last seven years before that. You were okay. You would be okay. This was where everything ended. After this, you could do whatever the hell you wanted.

With Logan by your side. 

You rounded the corner and stopped as you came face to face with your past. Two doors stood opposite you. One for Five, and the other for Eight. For you. Kitty hung back as you squared your shoulders, taking the next few steps and using every ounce of faux confidence you could muster as you entered the code into the keypad, the one you’d seen Kreva or TS8 do so many damn times. With a hiss of machinery, the door slid open, and once again you had to remind yourself you were okay. He didn’t have you. You were free of him. 

The same table taunted you from the centre of the room. Worn leather straps lying limp on each four corners. You remembered every little detail of the steel. Every faded mark on the floor. You’d counted every little hole in the paneled ceiling and traced the round light above you as you waited for whatever experiment Kreva was about to run to start. What you never realised until now, however, was the one-way mirror across the far side of the room. You always assumed it was so you could watch whatever they were doing to you, simply yet another form of torture. But it only now occurred to you this was where the Kreva’s would watch from. This was where they would note down everything they discovered.

That was where he was now. You could almost fucking smell him. 

With a flick of your wrist, eight figures rose from the shadows in the room, each of them awaiting your command, twitching with apprehension. You didn’t need to say anything. You never did with them. Wordlessly, they each stood facing the mirror, arms raised, shadows writhing about their hands until they solidified into spiked maces. 

As one, eight shadows of your past shattered the glass effortlessly, shards of reflection scattering about their feet, revealing the observation room behind, the stench of fresh blood permeating the lab. 

Dissolving into the shadows, you reappeared beyond the window, finding a sick sense of satisfaction as you watched Kreva desperately clamber behind a console, papers and electronics clattering to the floor. You said nothing, those eight figures coming to stand patiently behind you, heads glitching and shifting. 

“I made you what you are.” He spat, blood dribbling from his mouth, his glasses shattered and sitting askew atop his nose, scarlet stump clutched against his chest. “This world would have torn you to pieces. I saved you from that. I harnessed your power. Everything I did was in the name of creating a better world!” 

You stalked forward with deadly quiet, letting the shadows overtake you and flank either side of the man whose family name had tortured you for over eighty years. You truly didn’t know what you would say to him if this moment ever came. You hadn’t let yourself think about it because you never thought it would.

But standing here, with all the power in your hands, a stark contrast to the rest of your life, you smiled. Not that warm, comforting smile you reserved only for the people you loved. You smiled like the edge of a knife, slicing through tender meat. You smiled like the adder before striking a rodent. You smiled like the shark after a meal. 

“You tortured me,” you began, one of the shadows lunging forward with clinical precision to land a blow through Kreva’s shoulder, relishing in the scream of agonised terror. “You tortured my friends,” another white-hot slice to his other hand, that same sick crunch of splitting bone as his hand flopped onto the floor. “You came for the people I care about,” a void-like hand thrust through his calf, blood and tendons exploding as the figure solidified its limb within his body, pieces of muscle and marrow splattering over the console and wall. “You tried to take the man I love,” you remembered vaguely Jade’s request, and though you didn’t command it, one of the shadows sent its foot straight into his crotch and Kreva doubled over, unable to scream through breathless agony. “And that very power you say you harnessed. That very power you nurtured,” you paused, crouching low and lifting his face akin to the way he’d done earlier at your lowest point. “I’m going to watch as it tears you apart.” You hissed, dropping his head to take a step back as every single on of those figures sank into his body, hiding within the shadows of his absent heart.

“Every part the demon I made you.” He gurgled, choking on his own blood.

“And so much more.” You responded as black tendrils entered his bloodstream, staining his veins, spiderwebbing up the side of his neck, invading his eyes before they rolled into the back of his head. You’d given them free rein to do what they wanted. You would let the shadows of your broken family get their revenge in any way they chose. 

Kreva convulsed on the floor, his back bowing as if possessed, limbs twitching and locking, foam gathering at the corners of his mouth as his death was elongated, pain creasing his eyes, mouth agape in a silent scream as your shadows tore apart every fibre of his being, 

On a molecular level.

He fell silent for a moment, stilling on the ground, before there was a loud, earsplitting crack, and you barely had time to raise a solid wall of darkness before entrails and tissue painted every surface crimson, white sharks of bone piercing into the walls, embedding into the ceiling. 

The wet dripping of pulp falling from the ceiling was the only sound in the following silence, the weight of the moment settling on your shoulders, forcing you to your knees. 

He was dead.

Kreva was dead. 

The man who’d caused so much pain. So much terror. Who’d forced you to commit the worst acts of humanity, the sole reason for the overwhelming self-hatred…

He was dead. 

You felt a sob rise in your throat, and you set it free, your shoulders shaking from the sheer force of your cries. Every moment of torture. Every fibre of agony released in your earthshaking screams, your voice scratching, tearing at your throat. You knew the moment couldn’t last. You knew you still had to find Rowan. But with Kreva dead, your chances of getting him back had just increased tenfold. 

Bracing your hands against the cool floor, you let yourself tremble under the weight of freedom, feeling the ghost of shackles around your wrists and ankles fall away, the claws around your neck releasing. 

“You killed him…”

You drew in a shaky breath, the familiarity of that voice tugging at the threads of your heart. Struggling to your feet, you turned to face your brother, Rowan standing in the shadows of the room made for you, his eyes wide with an emotion you couldn’t quite read.

“Yeah. It’s over, Rowan. You’re safe now. We’re all safe now. You can come home with me,” you breathed, extending your hand toward him through the shattered mirror. “You don’t have to hurt anymore. I’m here. I’m here…” you reassured, taking a step toward the gap between you with the intention of drawing him into your arms.

“You killed him…” he said again, his expression shifting to something you recognised all too well. “You abandoned me here, to suffer at the hands of these demons, and you killed the only man who showed me any kindness…”

You blinked as the lights on the console flared slightly. “No… that’s what he made you think. That’s what you remember because it was a memory he put there. But it isn’t real. Come with me. I can show you. Please… I can show you everything.” You begged, suffering the slice to your hand as you slid through the shattered glass of the mirror, now standing opposite him, arms open. “It’s okay… you’re safe now. He’s gone. You’re–”

You didn’t have time to finish your sentence before a flare of pure light from the hallways beyond blasted you to the side, your spine cracking against the wall, head splitting with the impact. Your vision blurred slightly, pain exploding in your mind as you struggled to regain your breath. Through the swimming haze, you could see Kitty’s arm on the door through the doorway, the rest of her body lying still on the ground beyond. 

“You took everything from me.” Rowan loomed over you, glowing wings of light flaring wide from his shoulder blades. “Now I’m going to take it all back.”

Logan heaved a snarling breath as he retracted his claws from the helmeted head of yet another faceless guard, casting a calculating glance at the bodies littering the ground, some fried, some missing various limbs, but all dead. Soaked in blood, he watched as Scott sent another beam through one of the last men standing, Ororo sending another flying over the treetops with pinpoint accuracy. 

The car park fell still as the final assailant was annihilated, falling headless to its knees, body twitching before falling still. It was eerie how silent the night felt after so much bloodshed, but Logan’s thoughts immediately turned back to you. You were down there somewhere, stopping Rowan however you could. Was Kreva still alive? Or had you already dealt with him?

A darker question entered his head, and it drove him to move. 

Were you still alive?

“Scott, I need a doorway,” was all he said, pacing over to the crumbled ruins blocking the door. Surprisingly, there was no flood of protests from Cyclops, only a sharp nod of agreement before a beam of white-hot energy sailed through the rubble, melting rocks and burning wood effortlessly. Logan breathed a quick “Thanks,” before breaking into a run, mindful to avoid the liquid fire Scott had created before he was jogging through the lobby, red lights reflecting off every surface. It was the perfect representation of his mind when his ears twitched, catching a distant scream from below. 

He breathed your name, panic sending his heart racing as he spared a quick glance to the rest of the team behind him, Ororo immediately picking up on his change of demeanour. 

“Go. We’ll clean up the rest here.” She urged as more torches pointed down either side of the hallway into the lobby. How many more of these fuckers were there? But he trusted they could handle it. He had to trust them if he wanted to get to you. With a sharp nod of gratitude, Logan turned back to the elevator, his claws sinking through the surface and cutting out a square large enough to fit through. He couldn’t look back, not as the prattle of gunfire started up again.

With his heart in his throat, Logan plunged into the darkness, slicing his claws through either side of the steel walls to slow his descent, sparks and the pitched squeal of slicing metal accompanied his fall until his feat touched a solid surface. Crouching low, he sliced through the top of the elevator, jumping through the gap before repeating the same thing on the double doors. He remembered the last time he was here, the familiar panic as he searched for you, hoping that you’d be okay, praying that you’d still be alive. He felt that same urgency now as he raced down the hallways, the lights above flaring and dimming erratically. 

Rowan.

It had to be. 

There couldn’t be any other explanation. 

The thought had him moving faster, enhanced hearing picking up every clash of power, every hiss of shadow and burst of light. 

Every pained gasp. 

You panted heavily, blood leaking from your nose as you once again rose to your feet, shadows swirling around your finger on one hand, your other cloaked in a blade of darkness as you faced your brother. 

No, this wasn’t your brother anymore. This was Solaris. This was your equal and your opposite. A similar rivulet of crimson flowed down over his lip, the result of the harsh punch you’d thrown at him before, his nose now sitting at a crooked angle. The wall between your rooms had been obliterated, dust and rubble littering the ground where he’d thrown you through into his assigned lab. Darkness in the light. Light in the darkness. You opposed each other, twin wings flaring threateningly. 

You couldn’t talk him out of this. You needed him to back down of his own free will. You couldn’t teleport him out of here like you could the others. But you knew he was too far gone. You knew you couldn’t get him to stop.

But you couldn’t fail here. 

A sharp call of your name distracted you for a moment, your black eyes widening as you saw Logan in the doorway, his expression frantic as he looked you over, from the tip of your blade to the claws of your wings. 

Solaris looked between you, a roar of betrayed agony tearing from his lips as he lunged forward, his own blade of light swinging in a high arc above his head to split your skull. You met him blow for blow, parry for parry, fighting to ignore Logan’s presence in the door. With a stray gesture, you raised a solid wall of shadow before him, an immovable, impenetrable barrier between him and your brother. 

Logan stepped back as a solid wall of darkness rose from the ground, pressing his hand against it to test its durability. What the hell did you think you were doing? Why were you stopping him? He pushed against it, finding finding equal resistance. Pushing again, he was met with his own strength coming back at him. His breath caught in his throat. Through the shifting shadow, he could see your silhouette standing against Solaris, the two of you having separated for a moment before trading blows once again. Logan sent his fist colliding into the wall, feeling the crack of bone before his hand quickly healed and he tried again. 

With half your concentration focused on keeping up the barrier protecting the man you loved, you received the point of Solaris’ blade through your abdomen, your gut twisting with pain as you strained a gasp, hearing Logan’s roar of despair fueled rage from behind the now flickering wall. Solaris pulled his blade back, his eyes nothing but pits of blinding light, the opposite of your own. 

“You can’t save them. You will burn.” He spat, taking a step back as you fell to a knee, pain consuming your system as you tried in vain to cover the wound with your hand, crimson blood flowing through your fingers like sand. 

But he was wrong. He was so wrong. Golden light started to flare from the centre of his chest, erasing every shadow from the room, and bleaching the surfaces of darkness. All shadows bar one. 

All shadows but your own. 

Charles’ words echoed through your head. ‘She cannot disappear into her own shadow or she will be lost.’ ‘That’s why we called you back. We’ve been lucky so far.’

Closing your eyes, you let a stray tear slip down your cheek, and Logan’s heart stilled in his chest. 

“No… No, no NO!” His voice ripped through his throat, claws slashing at the wall of darkness you managed to maintain. “Don’t– Don’t do THIS PLEASE! DON’T… don’t do this.” His words diminished as you turned to look through the barrier, a small smile of acceptance pulling at the corners of your lips, blood staining your teeth. 

You could save them. You could save them all. 

And all it would cost was your life. 

“Til one of us keels over…” you offered him one last promise before you surged forward to where Solaris burned bright, and he barely had time to scream your name as your own shadow flared up around you as you leapt into the blaze, your body disintegrating into shadow.

Logan watched as darkness consumed the glow, a visceral battle between shadow and light, your mutation finally releasing itself around your brother, dragging him into the void with you. The wall fell away, fading back into nothing as he lost you to the very thing you were training against. 

A prison of your own making hummed where you’d leapt forward, a sphere of glassy void, both you and your brother locked away safely where he couldn’t hurt anyone…

And he could never see you again. 

An ever-changing cell of light and dark. 

He lunged forward, vocal cords ripping in his throat as he screamed your name again and again, punching against the surface until his knuckles bled and blood splattered across the floor. Breath singed his lungs as he sobbed. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He was going to spend the rest of his life with you. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. 

So why was the rest of your life taken from you? Why did he have to spend the rest of his life alone? Why was he always fucking alone? He only just got you back.

And you were gone again. This time, for good. 

You saved him. You saved him from so many sleepless nights. So many times he’d wake up to find comfort in your slow breathing next to him, placing the side of his head against your chest, feeling your breaths, listening to your heartbeat. You saved him. But the price of doing so was losing you.

Strength left his body as he crumbled to his knees. This had been your choice. You’d sealed yourself away in a cell of flickering light and swirling shadow, imprisoning Solaris along with you for the rest of time. You’d disintegrated into your own silhouette like Charles had constantly warned you against. And you’d done it to save the people that you love. 

Logan placed his hand against the buzzing wall of light and dark, pressing his forehead against the incarnation of your mutation, hoping against hope that somehow, somewhere, you were still in there. Your whispered name fell from his lips, tears falling ceaselessly to darken the floor in droplets, his head bowed low. The light from within flared and faded rhythmically, glowing inside the empty black of shadow. 

Much like the light of a firefly. 

“Please…” he whispered. “I love you. I love you.” His chest was wracked with silent sobs.

“Logan!” Ororo’s voice echoed through the chamber as she slid to a stop in the doorway, a gasp flying from her lips. “What…?” She could barely comprehend what she was seeing. “Where is she?” She asked quietly, her footsteps too loud in the grieving silence of the room. He couldn’t find his voice through the choking heartbreak in his throat. 

“Logan…?” Morgana stepped carefully through the doorway, a badly injured Kitty supported by her shoulder, blood leaking from a wound on her head. The redhead fell silent as she realised what had happened. “She did it…” she whispered, melancholy lacing her tone. “She did it.”

A new wave of grief suffocated his chest as her words struck his heart. You had. You’d done it. But in doing so, you’d sacrificed everything. 

“No…” Kitty whimpered, struggling to free herself from Morgana’s hold to get to you. “That’s not her… it’s not her!” She cried, staggering forward only to fall to the ground a few steps later, a yelp of grief-stricken pain piercing the air. Logan looked back numbly, his eyes meeting hers as she looked at him pleadingly. “Tell me… tell me it’s not her…” she begged, her voice thick with emotion. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t tell her it wasn’t you. And the longer his silence lingered, the more hope drained from her eyes and she sobbed into her arm.

It was all he could do to go to her and drag her into his arms, listening to his own heartbreak shatter in every single one of her cries. He screwed his eyes shut, letting her shudder in his arms. 

“I’m sorry…” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

He knew there was nothing he could have done. You’d sealed him out for a reason. You’d shut him away because you knew this was what you’d have to do. And you knew he would have stopped you. He would let the world burn for you, but you wouldn’t allow it. Because living with himself after would have been impossible.

You saved him from that. You’d saved him from himself. 

“She's gone…?” Scott asked softly, joining the grieving group and reading the room. Morgana nodded in confirmation, and his jaw tightened. It was then Logan knew this wasn’t what he wanted. He spoke the truth when he’d said all those months ago he didn’t want you gone. He didn’t want you neutralised. 

“She saved our lives…” Ororo offered quietly, as if fearful her voice would break if she spoke any louder. Logan turned back to the sphere of shadow and the light pulsing within.

You’d saved so many people in your life. A sharp contrast to how many you’d hurt. But he knew you’d be happy with this. You were okay with this. Your last act was one of saving, not hurting. So he would live for you. He would live in a way you’d be proud of. Placing his hand back against the surface of your mutation, he let the promise seep through his palms as if somehow you could hear his intentions. 

“See you soon, Firefly.”

[lainiespicewrites]

Coach Sy Ch 6

ITS HERE! This took forever because life is crazy rn! But I LOVE this story and I have so many plans for it! This is NOT the end by far! Here's more of our lovable Coach!! (also this story just hit 100 pages on google docs!)

Warnings: mentions of anxiety, cursing, sex p in v, oral, unprotected sex

summary: After the weekend together Alayna decides its time for Logan to meet her friends!

Let me know what you think!!!!

7k (I'm so sorry I couldn't stop!)

Here’s part 5 cause it’s been a while!

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The rest of our weekend was too fast. I was already loving the feeling of waking up next to this man. Sunday morning we went out for breakfast. A local diner in town. It was his idea. I told him we could just cook at home again. He was showing off. At this rate everyone would know before we got back to school tomorrow. 

He had his arm around my waist when we walked in and pulled me closer while we waited to be seated. He sat next to me instead of across from me in the booth. His arm around my shoulder while we looked at the menu. I giggled to myself.

“What is it darlin?” He raised an eyebrow looking at me curiously. I shook my head. 

“You’re something else,” I chuckled. He only looked more confused. “Parading me around like you won first prize, I didn’t realize you were so into PDA,” I smirked. His smile mimicked mine as he kissed my head softly. 

“You ain’t seen nothing yet, honey.” He chuckled. “Just wanna make sure everyone knows you’re off the market.” He spoke proudly. 

“Yeah because there were so many others you had to worry about.” I rolled my eyes. Sy grabbed my chin making me look at him. His deep blue eyes stared into mine intently. 

“Just because you don’t see ‘em staring doesn’t mean they ain’t looking Darlin’. If I hadn’t put myself in your path you’d never have noticed, baby. Trust me they’re lookin’, and I don’t share,” He let out a soft growl in my ear and I felt my cheeks flush as a rush of heat flooded my body. 

“Sy,” I said softly. He moved his hand so he was cupping cheek, his thumb softly caressing my jaw. I tilted up to kiss him softly but before our lips met the waitress softly cleared her throat approaching our table. 

“You two ready to order?” she asked sweetly, mainly to Logan keeping her eyes on him the whole time. 

He slowly tore his eyes from mine and turned to her, giving her a kind smile.

“I think we are!” He spoke enthusiastically like we weren’t one breath away from defiling this booth. Like he didn’t have me right where he wanted me hanging on every word he said. Like I wasn’t about to let him do whatever filthy thoughts were working the gears in his head, right here where we could get caught. But you could never tell. Not with Sy. He was a deviant disguised as a perfect gentleman.

“And what can I get for you handsome?” she smiled back. I froze, feeling my blood boil. I know she did not. I looked up from the menu trying to convey a cold look in my eyes, glaring at her as she kept hers on my man. Her eyes lit up while he rattled off his order. She was lucky there was a brick wall of a man between us. I slid closer to Sy tucking myself under his arm and resting my hand on his chest. He raised an eyebrow as I scanned the menu still in his hand to give the waitress my order. She seemed slightly more annoyed now but still smiled when she repeated everything back to us. “Is that all for you?” she asked us, again looking at Sy, 

“Yeah, that’s it,” I answered, sending her another look before turning back to Sy and trailing my hand from his chest to the back of his neck pulling him in for a kiss. I heard her huff when she walked away and I smirked to myself as I slowly pulled back, Sy’s lip chasing mine in a chaste little kiss. 

“The hell was that?” He raised an eyebrow smirking as he looked me over. 

“What?” I asked, kissing his cheek softly and turning to scroll through some of the messages I’d missed on my phone. 

“You were jealous,” He chuckled softly. I blushed, turning away from him a bit. 

“What, I can’t kiss my boyfriend without having an ulterior motive?” I pouted. His hands were around my middle as he pulled me close. 

“You’re boyfriend huh?” I could feel his smile against my neck. 

“Mhmm, that’s what I said. Mine,” I grumbled. He chuckled softly, brushing my hair back out of my face and leaning back in the booth so I could rest against him.  We sat quietly through breakfast. Talking about the week, He asked if I would ride with the team to the game on friday. They had another away game this week. Of course I agreed. He and the team were about to break a record for the school's undefeated season. I wouldn’t miss it. Sy was trying not to get his hopes up but I just knew they were gonna make it to state this year. I’ve never seen the boys play like they have this season. After breakfast. I decided I should probably go home. We had work in the morning and as fun as it was staying the weekend with him I did have my own things to keep up with. 

Sy was quiet on the drive home. But at one point about halfway through the drive he looked over and smiled. He grabbed my hand from my lap and intertwined our fingers. 

“You’re so cute,” I giggled softly. 

“I hate letting you go,” Logan sighed. Kissing the back of my hand. 

“You’ll see me tomorrow, Baby,” I chuckled. He pulled into my driveway and put the truck in park. 

“I know, I’m just really enjoying waking up with you in my bed.”

“I like that too,” I smiled, kissing his cheek. “I just think I need to slow down. I’m getting ahead of myself. I’d love to be with you everyday. But we need to let this develop a little,” I spoke nervously, biting my lip. He squeezed my hand trying to ease my mind. 

“I get it darlin’ You don’t wanna jump in head first and crash. I won’t let you fall. But hell, we both need our own space too.” he said. I nodded. And let him kiss me softly one last time before I finally got out of the truck. 

“Thank you for this weekend.” I said leaning against the door and the open window of the truck, “I’ve had more fun with you than I’ve had in a long time.” I admitted shyly

“So did I, I’ll call you this week when I have our next date planned out,” He winked. 

“You don’t have to do that Logan,” I argued. 

“Like hell I don’t. Just cause I got you doesn’t mean I can start slackin, you deserve the best pretty girl and I’m gonna give it to ya” I blushed. 

“Damnit Sy, if you keep saying things like that I’m gonna get right back into this truck and go home with you.” I pouted. He chuckled and I finally backed away from the truck and let out a deep sigh. “I really do need to go,” I said. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” I asked turning and walking up to unlock my front door. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow baby” He called from the truck. I turned and waved, blowing him a kiss and then went inside. 

I didn’t get nearly as good of sleep Sunday night as I had the nights I spent with Sy. But I didn’t let myself dwell on that. I enjoyed his company so much and he’s such a giving and caring and intense man. I want to be with him. It just feels so overwhelming. I don’t want Logan to feel like I’m pushing him away. But this is all so new to me. No one’s ever wanted to commit to me the way he has. It scares me. 

I was exhausted walking into the guidance office Monday morning. I tossed and turned all night and woke up late. It’s crazy how in a matter of a few weeks he’s made my bed less comfortable just because I’m not next to him. I shake the thought from my mind and give Jess a tired smile.

“Good Morning!” She said with as much cheer as she could muster up on a Monday morning. 

“Morning,” I replied weakly. 

“Busy weekend?” She asked with a knowing smirk. 

“The best weekend,” I said, entering my office and setting my bag down. She watched me for a moment and raised an eyebrow. 

“Are you gonna give me the details or are you going to make me pry?” she chuckled. I smiled softly. 

“The date was so fun!” I said “let me finish my coffee and wake up first and I’ll tell you how it all went!”  She just smiled and we both started our work day.

 About an hour later after I’d caught up from emails from the weekend and the office was slow I filled Jess in about my weekend with Sy. 

“So you two are a couple? Oh I’m so happy for you! I told you!” She said. I nodded quickly. “Why does it seem like you aren’t nearly as excited as I am?” She raised an eyebrow. 

“I am!” I defended quickly, wringing my wrist’s awkwardly. 

“But…” she added for me and paused.

“It’s all happening so fast, what if…”

“Hold on,” she cut me off. I shut my mouth quickly and leaned against the desk letting her speak, “He hasn’t proposed has he?” She asked. I shook my head. “He hasn’t asked you to move in or talked about babies? Maybe ask you to donate one of your kidneys?’ I laughed out loud and shook my head. 

“No he hasn't," I added. 

“Then stop searching for a problem! Stop trying to find a reason to be disappointed,  Alayna. It’s okay to just be with someone.” She argued.  I nodded. 

Mike came into the office then greeted us both before I could answer her. He was a teacher. His class was in the same hallway as Logan's. They chatted between class periods. Mike played football in college and currently coaches our cross country team. They got along well!. Mike was much more soft spoken than Sy. But Sy appreciated that about him. Mike taught Psychology as well as World History. The two of them often had some fun conversations over lunch. At least from what Sy has told me. They’re good friends!

It would also seem that he and Jess have caught themselves in the same situation as Logan and I . Except Mike hasn’t made a move despite the amount of times Logan has encouraged him to do so. And sweet precious Jessica refuses to believe he’s into her no matter how many signs I point out. 

“Morning Mike!” I smiled, “I better get to work, I have a meeting with a student soon!” I paused as I turned to walk into my office. “Jess, you might benefit from taking your own advice sometime.” I smiled. Her eyes went wide before she shot me a quick glare. I just shrugged and turned back to my office. 

I settled at my desk and pulled up my appointment schedule for the day. We didn’t have a student working with us in the office this morning like we normally did, so I wouldn’t have someone to write my hall passes for my students. Instead I’d have to call the teachers for whatever class they’re in and have them excused to my office. 

My first Student was a sophomore, Elsie. I quickly checked her class schedule and smiled to myself. She was in Logan’s first period class. He’d come to me last year because he was concerned about her. Since then she and I have been meeting regularly almost every week. I picked up my office phone and dialed the number for Sy’s classroom. I hate to admit I had it memorized. 

“Coaches class!” one of his students answered. Likely one of the boys on his team. 

“Uh Huh and is Mr. Syverson available?” I asked, holding back a chuckle. 

“Is this Ms. P? Coach is actually busy teaching us about dead people, he doesn’t have time for personal calls. But, I can take a message!” I heard giggles in the background and then a gruff voice. 

“Matt get back in your seat before I send you to the office, you know nobody sits at my desk! ” There was a collective oooohhh in the background.

“Sorry coach, your girlfriend called, figured you wouldn’t wanna miss it!” Matt chuckled. Sy’s voice however was considerably less lighthearted.  

“Donovan you got 5 seconds to hand me the phone and get back to your seat. Or you’ll be visiting the dean… and running the laps you already owe me.” He barked. 

“Sorry sir,” He mumbled. And I heard movement on the other end of the receiver. 

“Syverson,” he answered plainly 

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you sound so mundane,” I giggled. 

“What can I do for you Ms. Plummer?” He asked, ignoring my statement clearly trying to remain professional and get a hold on his classroom that was clearly trying to listen in on the conversation. 

“You didn’t have to be so hard on him you know,” I said, I knew he couldn’t respond to that, not with the kids paying attention. Wow maybe they really did know we had a thing between the two of us. “Anyway, have you done your roll call already?” I asked. 

“I have…” He trailed off with a question in his tone. 

“Great! I have a meeting with Ms. Elsie this morning. Is she with you?” I asked. I knew the answer but I was drawing this out just to hear his voice a little longer. I hate to admit I missed him already. 

“Yes, Ma’am she is,” he answered. 

“Can you send her my way?” I smiled. 

“I can do that, “ He said, his voice a bit softer now. A little more at ease. I had one more thing I needed to ask him though. 

“One more question, are you free Thursday evening?” I asked quickly. He paused his breath, sounding steady over the receiver. 

“I might be,” He said skeptically. 

“Well, If you find that you are, Two of my friends and I  meet for dinner on Thursday nights. I thought if you weren’t busy you could join us and meet them?”  he let out a breath and I could almost hear his smile. 

“I can do that too!” he said with a soft chuckle. 

“Alright well, as much as I hate to hang up I suppose we both have jobs to do. I’ll talk to you later, Have a good day… Mr. Syverson.” I teased. 

“Have a good day Ms. Plummer,” He spoke softly before we hung up. 

I looked up from my desk and Jess was still talking to Mike. I smiled to myself. Gosh these two

About 5 minutes later I looked up when I heard Elsie’s voice. She stopped to check in with Jess. She sounded timid. That made sense. Mike was still in the office “Making copies” and standing at the desk. Although he was an extremely gentle and kind person, I’ve noticed the students seem a little intimidated by him as well, I think it’s his height. The man is easily 6’2 at least.  

Regardless, he gives her a warm smile when she approaches the desk. 

“Good Morning Elsie.” He greets her. I watch from my office. She smiles shyly and mumbles back a quiet 

“Hi Mr Gilbert,” She looks at Jess and before she can speak Jess smiles. 

“I’ve got you checked in Hon! Happy to see you this Morning Elsie.”  she adds. Before Jess can tell her to take a seat I stand and call her into my office. 

“Hey girl!” I greet her, “go ahead and take a seat, how was your weekend?” I asked. She sat on the edge of the chair on the other side of my desk. Okay, anxious this morning. 

“It was okay,” she answered. I nod sitting back in my chair. I keep my face soft. 

“Just okay? Is there anything significant that stands out you wanna talk about?” she shakes her head slouching in the seat a bit. I didn’t want to push her. But she’d been doing so well. Lately though, our last few appointments she was closing off to me again. I nodded

“Okay, well last time you told me you’d started keeping a journal, have you kept up with that?” I asked. 

“Yeah, I actually really like it. It…uh…  helps me organize what I'm feeling.” she responds. 

“Good I always liked to journal too. It always helped when I felt like I could tell someone, at least I could write it out. But Elsie, if there is something going on, that’s what I’m here for okay?” she nodded. 

“Ms Plummer, when you were in high school did you ever feel like… your friends just didn’t actually like you?” She asked me. I wasn’t expecting  the question. I thought to myself for a moment. I knew the answer but I wanted to be careful how I responded. 

“I did, I had some friends that I felt really didn’t care. I was the punchline of all of their jokes. There’s this video from when I was in school.  One of my friends had peaches at lunch and she thought it would be funny to throw one at my face.She kept asking if she could do it. I finally just told her she could so she’d stop. And then two of my other friends took videos of it. It ended up online and of course I just laughed it off. But when she actually threw it my crush was walking by. I don’t know if he saw it, I was too embarrassed to look. I never told them how it made me feel, I felt like they should’ve just known not to do that,” I explained. “But on the other hand I had friends that really cared for me. I found out I had anxiety and depression when I was in high school. I may not have if I didn’t have a friend who constantly encouraged me to see our counselor because he was worried about me.” She nodded

“I think I understand what you’re saying. It really  sucks that your friends couldn’t see they were hurting you.” she sighs. “But how do you know if someone actually cares? There’s so many fake people and I feel like I can’t trust anyone.” There it is. 

“Why is that?” I asked her. 

“I just don’t feel like anyone really means it, I don’t know like… my brain keeps telling me they’re just there because they have to be or something,” she sighs, looking down at her hands in her lap. 

“I understand, I’ve felt that way too. I still do sometimes. Anxiety is funny like that.” I explained. 

“Is that what you think is wrong with me? Anxiety?” she asked. The look on her face broke my heart. She worried her lip between her teeth for a moment. Her wide eyes scared, like I thought she was broken. 

“Elsie, I don’t think anything is wrong with you.” I told her, “Everyone has some anxiety. Actors, musicians, athletes, politicians, everyone. Even people in the military, like Mr Syverson. Some have worse anxiety than others but it doesn’t mean anything is wrong with you. You just have to learn how to … cope with it.” she nods, taking in all the information I’d just given her. I still don’t think she’s convinced. Unfortunately I think it’s something she’ll have to experience herself. This was one of those moments I wish I had gone further in school. That I was more than just a guidance counselor and I could do more than just empathize with her. But I wasn’t licensed for therapy. This… was the best I could do of her. 

“Like a release? Some way of shutting your brain off?” she asked 

“Sort of, the writing is a good start, a release of that emotion, to help you understand it better, does that make sense?” she nodded again. “Good, well try to keep up with that. You’ve been doing really well. Thank you for coming to meet with me again and if you need anything,” I stressed,  “Before you see me again don’t hesitate to stop in okay?” I said. Again she nods. 

“Thank you Ms. Plummer.” she said and stood to leave. She pauses in the doorway. “Do you… want me to tell Mr. Syverson, you say hello?” She blushed. “Everyone’s talking about it.” she blushed. 

“If you’re comfortable with that, sure” I smiled. 

“Are you two.. really together? Is it okay if I ask?” I nodded 

“I don’t mind you asking hun, Mr. Syverson and I… are… dating. It's new but yes.” I told her, blushing a bit myself. She smiled now. 

“I think you two make a great couple, he really cares about us too. At first I was afraid he was just gonna care about the jocks, like some of the other teachers. But he checks on me sometimes, like he knows I don’t like to be called on in class but he makes a point to tell me to have a good day if I’m one of the last one’s in the room. It’s really nice. I don’t know that I can ever find someone who cares like he does. But I’m glad you did. You deserve it Ms. Plummer.” I felt my eyes start to well up with tears and I had to wipe them away quickly. 

“You deserve that too Elsie, Please don’t forget that.” She nodded and shrugged her shoulders. 

“I’ll… see you next week.” she says before leaving my office. The day went on, whoever’s idea it was to have a department meeting on a Monday afternoon is on my shit list. But I made it through the day, still extremely exhausted but I survived nonetheless. 

I felt a presence while I was packing up at the end of the day. I looked up to see Logan leaning against the doorframe watching me with a grin. 

“What time do I need to pick you up Thursday night?” He asked, walking in and grabbing my bag for me. 

“I can get that, Logan,” I smiled. 

“That’s not what I asked,” He smirked. 

“We usually do dinner around 6 so maybe 5:30? I take it that means you're coming?” I asked anxiously. 

“I’ve always got time for you, sugar,” He said, following me out as I locked up my office for the night. 

“Would you stop making me wanna kiss you in inappropriate settings!” I groaned. He chuckled. And pulled me close by my waist as we walked out of the guidance office. Logan leaned in kissing my cheek and let his lips linger against my ear. 

“Nope, I like doing inappropriate things with you. Maybe I’ll take you in my office. Bend you over my desk.  Or maybe lay you down on your desk after school gets out. Since you love to tease me so much.” He smirked against my skin. He quickly kissed the side of my head and stood up straight as if he hadn’t just whispered the most filthy things in my ear. 

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I stuttered. We walked out the back toward the faculty parking lot and he chuckled. 

“That phone call this morning was real cute, Darlin. Putting me on the spot in front of the kids like that.” He said. 

“You mean asking you to come to dinner with my friends?” I laughed. 

“Listen to you, sounding all innocent, like you didn’t ask me on a date in the middle of class. You had me flustered all morning.” He pouted. When we reached my car he set my bag down and backed me up against it. It reminded me of the night we first kissed in this parking lot. I smiled softly and grabbed his face in my hands. 

“I’m sorry Sy, I didn’t think it would throw you off. It was just on my mind.” I softly scratched the hair at the back of his neck and watched his eyes almost roll back. 

“Mmm,” He hummed. “I shoulda came down there and reminded you what happens to bratty little girls.” He teased . My thighs clenched at his words. God he could be so filthy. I couldn’t believe he was talking like that out here. But we were alone. And he did say I drove him crazy. I guess he meant it. 

I dragged my hand down from his neck to his chest looking up at him innocently. I couldn’t help myself. 

“Why don’t you  come over tonight and help me remember?” I bit my lip. I wasn’t feeling as bold as I thought. Logan let out a hard chuckle and shook his head. He cupped my cheek and kissed me softly. I chased his lips as he pulled away but he stopped me. 

“Easy baby, I’d love to, but we both agreed it’d be smart to slow this down. You just left my place yesterday.” He laughed again. I sighed and pouted. 

“I know,” I said. “ I just like being close to you, and today was hard.” He gave me a gentle smile and leaned in kissing my forehead. 

“You wanna talk about it?” He asked. I shook my head. 

“No, just worried about one of our students, it's … I’ll be okay.. I should let you get ready for practice.” I said. 

“Okay baby, well how about I come stay with you after dinner Thursday night?” He asked, still holding my waist, not quite ready to let go. 

“I’d love that! You could bring Aika! My backyard is fenced in!” I said excitedly. He smiled

“Alright it’s settled then. I’ll call you when I get out of practice, baby, and I’ll see you at 5:30 on Thursday.” He said. And kissed me passionately one more time. I bit my lip and nodded. He picked up my bag and put it in the car for me. 

“I’ll see you then,” I said before he stepped back and let me go to get in the car. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was 5:20 Thursday evening. I was so nervous. Not about seeing Sy. But about him actually meeting my friends. I know he’s a great guy! And they know he’s been good to me but I have this knot of fear in my stomach so twisted, worried this won’t go well. I’d put my hair up and taken it back down for the 3rd time and was finally putting on my shoes. There's a knock on my door.  

I ran over and opened it, Logan was standing there with flowers in one hand and Aika on her lead in the other. 

“Hey you!” I smiled and leaned in to kiss him quickly. “Those for me?” I nodded to the flowers and he grinned handing them over. 

“Of course they are. Couldn’t show up empty handed.” He said as I moved to the side to let him and the dog in. 

“Sometimes I swear you’re like…. Written by a romance author or something. They don’t make ‘em like you anymore.” He laughs out loud and pulls me in again, kissing me more passionately this time while we let Aika roam around the house. 

“Written just for you baby,” He teased. I blushed and turned to pet Aika. 

“You’re sure she’ll be okay while we’re gone?” I asked. He nodded.

“She’s a good dog. She’s used to traveling with me. She’ll be alright,” He said. I nodded but pouted a little. 

“I still feel bad leaving her.” I sigh.

“We’ll only be gone a little over an hour baby, she’ll probably just watch out the window for a while and sleep.” he chuckled. 

“Okay,” I conceded. He raised an eyebrow. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked, his eyes were soft as they scanned mine. His head tilted to the side like a confused puppy. 

“Its noth..” I started, but the look on his face called bullshit before I could finish the sentence. It was incredible to me how his eyes could go from soft, to stern in a matter of a second. He was good at that. 

“Now, don’t lie to me darlin’. That ain’t gonna fix anything.” He said. I let out another breath. 

“I’m just anxious, about tonight, nervous. I don’t have any reason to be. I guess, my anxiety is sneaking up on me again. We should just go. It’ll be fine.” I explained. I pulled the curtains open so Aika could look out the window. I avoided Logan’s eyes as I went to grab my purse. 

“Baby, slow down.” he stopped me. We walked outside and stood on my porch for a moment. “Talk to me. What’s going through that pretty little head of yours?” He asked. I sat down on the step suddenly feeling exhausted. 

“This week has been rough, I was so excited on Monday when I invited you out. But as it got closer I just kept feeling more anxious about it. Not that I think they won’t like you, or you won’t like them. I don’t know. I just keep picturing all the ways this could go wrong. It’s just dinner. That’s so stupid!” I groaned, arguing with myself. Logan stepped off the porch crouching in front of me.

“Alright, I’m gonna put a stop to this right now. It’s not stupid, or dumb, or inconvenient that you’re feeling a little nervous. You know that. It’s what you tell the kids all day. If you need someone to remind you of that too, that’s what I’m here for.” He said lifting my chin to meet his gaze Shit I’m a little nervous about tonight too. I told ya I was a little hellion, I wasn’t the kinda guy girls wanted their friends to meet. I’m proud to be someone you wanna show off. But it makes me nervous.” He admitted. I grabbed his face and kissed him again. 

“Thank you Logan, for always… understanding.” He smiled and stood up holding out his hand for me to take. He led me to the truck and opened my door. 

“Come on, we’ll do this together,” he said.

At the restaurant the girls had just gotten a table when we walked in. I think Logan was just trying to show off but he pulled out my chair for me when we sat down. I didn’t miss the look Skyler gave me from across the table when we were all seated. She was impressed. I introduced everyone and we ordered drinks. The girls and I all got a glass of wine and Sy got a beer on tap. This place was honestly a little fancier than our normal Thursday night spot. I think that added to my nerves. But once the conversation started flowing I realized it really was all in my head. 

“So you teach as well as coaching?” Skyler asked. “Do you like teaching?’ I knew this was important to her. She loved kids. Well the little ones anyway. Still this was her way of judging his character. Did he care about all of his students or just his athletes? Of course I knew the answer but I let him take this one

“I love it. I thought coaching was going to be my big passion after the military but I really enjoy working in the schools. And I like teaching history. Especially getting the chance to teach about what I did in the military. I guess that’s a plus.” He smiled and took a long sip of his beer.  

“That’s great, I know for Alayna it’s always been about the students. But I’m glad you both have that in common.” She responded. I nodded. 

“I told you he’s great!” I smiled. Hayley scoffed playfully. 

“He hasn’t proved himself yet buddy,” she laughed. “But he gets bonus points for having a dog.” We all laughed. 

“Do you always have to be so cynical?” I asked her

“It’s only because they love you darlin’” He chuckled. 

“See he gets it!” Hayley added. Skyler nodded. 

“You know it’s out of love, I mean we’ve been rooting for you for so long and you finally found a good man who’s like your first REAL boyfriend you know and we’re happy for you!” She explained. I felt my palms get sweaty. I hadn’t had the chance to explain all of that to Logan yet. I had been avoiding it honestly.

“You deserve the best dude we just wanna make sure you actually used good judgement for once,” Hayley added. She was right, but ow! Maybe I was bad at picking them in the past. I was hoping to hide my baggage long enough that it would just disappear. But apparently my friends were going to make sure that was not the case. We were going to have to have the exes conversation… or rather the lack there of conversation. 

“You’re right!” I laughed it off, Logan smiled pulling me closer to his side. 

“Hell we all make mistakes right? I’m just glad she gave me a chance.” He kissed my cheek. 

The rest of the evening was great. We chatted the girls got to know Sy. They really liked him. And he got a long well with them too. Before we left Logan caught our waitress and told her to put it all on one check, surprising all of us by paying for the bill. The girls thanked him again, and we talked about plans for next week before we officially parted ways. Sy and I got back in his truck and were quiet for a minute before he broke the silence. 

“You feeling better now, honey?” He asked resting his hand on my thigh. I looked over at him and smiled. 

“I am, I feel really good about tonight.” I said. Logan squeezed my thigh softly and took his eyes off the road just a second to smile at me. 

“I’m glad,” He said. Another beat of silence. And then, “So, before me, you never?....” He trailed off. Fuck. Fine I guess we’ll do this now. Sometimes being in a healthy relationship is a real pain in the ass. 

“I mean, I wasn’t… a virgin neccessarily. I honestly wish I had been. None of the boys I did anything with gave two shits about me. But to answer your question… No, before you, I’ve never been with anyone… long term. I wanted to be. But it just never happened.” I explained almost rambling. “What about…you?” I asked hesitantly. He puffed out a long breath 

“Uh, I… hate this…we don’t have to talk about this darlin,” he groaned. 

“You can tell me if it’s a lot, I know I’m kinda lame but surely you got around,”  I bit my lip awkardly.

“It… it’s more than I’d like to admit, then I  had a couple girlfriends in high school. But really nothing serious after I retired from the military. I’ve been ready to finally settle down. Get my head screwed on straight. I don’t think your lame baby, I kinda feel like an ass right now.” He sighed. I put my hand over his squeezing softly. 

“You’re not an ass Logan. I guess we probably should’ve had this conversation already, I always thought it was something wrong with me. Maybe it was my body, I was good enough to have sex with but they didn’t want to be seen with me.  They always just wanted to fuck and leave. No one ever wanted anything serious. Some had tricked me into believing otherwise so I’d give them what they wanted but… yeah… so I just never dated anyone before you.” I looked over and saw Logan’s jaw clenched 

“There ain’t nothing wrong with you baby. You understand me?” He said through gruffly “You didn’t deserve to be treated like that.”  I watched him for a moment as he puffed his chest and let out and irritated sigh. I slipped my hand under his tangling our fingers together. 

“I know,” I said softly, “you know why? You’ve shown me how a man should treat a lady. For a long time I was really jaded by the way I was treated in the past. I let it close me off. I didn’t believe anyone could ….actually care about me. But you have. You’ve shown me more real affection in a few weeks than anyone ever has.”  I blushed. We were home then. He parked the truck and tore my seatbelt off pulling me into him. He crashed his lips to mine sucking all the air out of my lungs. His fingers tangled in my hair holding me to him. I whimpered as he sucked my bottom lip into his mouth. He let out a feral groan at the taste of me on his tongue. 

I was breathless when he pulled away. Both of us gasping for air. 

“Look at me,” his voice was low and demanding. He never had to demand my attention. He always had it. Still something shook in me at the sound of his voice and my eyes were glue to his. “If I could go back, keep you from the hurt those little boys caused you, I’d do anything. I can’t fix the past, but I can promise you won’t go another day wondering your worth baby, not with me. There’s not an ounce of you I’d want to change darlin.”  I felt like I could melt under his intense gaze. Where the hell did this man come from and how did I end up with him. I bit my lip pondering what to say. But all I wanted was to feel his touch again. And it was getting way too hot in this truck. 

“Show me,” I said finally. He smiled and turned to get out of the truck. I jumped out and hurried to the door I could feel the heat of his body behind me as I unlocked the door. We walked in and Sy shut the door behind us. I had expected the dog to greet us but she’d put herself to bed in her kennel peacefully taking a nap. I threw my purse down on the counter and before I could think to turn around Logan’s hands were on me. He spun me to face him. Our lips met again instantly. I whined against his lips so needy to feel his skin. I pulled at his shirt and he chuckled pulling away to throw it on the ground I pulled off my sweater following suit. He pulled me back in kissing me roughly and pulling away to nip at my neck. I moaned softly gripping his shoulders as he lifted me up onto the counter. He slotted himself between my legs and ground his hard cock against me, letting out a low growl in my ear. 

“You want me to show you how bad I need you baby, you feel what you do to me?” he groaned. 

“Sy please,” I begged. I couldn’t take his teasing. I just needed to be close to him. To feel him inside me. I felt his hands slide down to the waist of my leggings and I lifted my hips so he could pull them off with my panties. He pulled me to the edge of the counter kissing my my chest and down my stomach. I whimpered softly, 

“Just gotta taste you, baby,” He moaned. Then he dipped his head between my thighs licking up my slit and sucking my clit into his mouth. I let out a loud moan arching my back and trying to get closer. He was relentless. Like a man starved licking my pussy and pushing his tongue inside me. Too quickly the pleasure started to build. And when he brushed his thumb over my clit in little circles I tumbled over the edge. 

“Fuck you always taste so good,” He groaned standing back up and shedding his jeans and boxers. He grabbed my hip and pushed into me slowly. My eyes met his again, as he watched my face. I couldn’t contain my moans when he was fully sheathed inside me. My head fell back my teeth sinking into my bottom lip trying to gain some semblance of control. “So pretty when I fuck you.” He moaned as I started to thrust. He attached his lips back to my neck and bit down on my shoulder.

“Fuck yes,” I moaned meeting his thrusts as he sped up. 

“I want this, I want you, all of you baby,” He growled in my ear. “So fucking perfect, I love the way you take me.” he encouraged bringing his thumb back to my clit. I gripped his shoulders feeling the pressure build again. 

“Logan,” I breathed.

“That’s it, I love it when cum for me baby, let me feel it.” he moaned. That’s all it took for me to cum again. His name on my lips like a prayer. Logan followed right behind me thrusting hard one last time and emptying himself inside me. 

We stayed there connected for a moment. Breathing heavy, holding each other. 

When Logan pulled away he helped me off the counter, he cupped my face kissing me softly. 

We got cleaned up, showering together before settling down for the night. I was in his T-shirt, head laying on his chest finally cozy in bed.

“Sy,” I said softly. 

“Hmmm,” He hummed, he was slowly brushing his fingers up and down my back. I raised my head to look at him. 

“I…I think I…” I paused trying to form the words. 

“I know,” he said. “I think I do too.” I smiled laying my head back down I laid awake for a while until I noticed soft snores coming from him. I giggled to myself, and closed my eyes. Yeah, I thought… I really think I do. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[strwberri-milk]

Songs of Sorrow - Ch. 11

Rancher!AU || Boothill x Fem!Reader || Slowburn, Drama

smut under cut! boothill jerking off to the thought of reader lol

“Boothill? Who was that?” 

He raises a brow, looking at the direction you point in. Geryll’s happily skipping down the steps once again, that smile on her face the only expression Boothill’s ever seen on her. He doesn’t think he’s ever met anybody that happy before, especially when considering how early she likes to drop by his home. 

“One of the neighbours. Name’s Geryll, and she lives with her brother Mikhal and his wife the opposite direction of Dan Heng. They’re wheat farmers,” he explains quickly, eyes trailing her form as she leaves. 

Seeing that the woman was fully gone you step out onto the deck in the evening light with Boothill, joining him in the chair across from him as he sips on his neat whiskey. He brought out a glass of lemonade for you, having invited you to spend the evening with him. 

“So what I’m hearing is these acres of land can feed me until the day I die,” you laugh. 

“It’s a good setup we got here,” he agrees. “Everyone lives close enough that tradin’ resources is viable and we pay less since we buy directly from the source. Or for free if we get gifted somethin’.” 

He nods towards another basket of baked goodies, watching as your eyes light up in joy at the sight.

“Oh, so that’s who made those delicious muffins last time? Hopefully I can thank them in person one day.” 

You take a bite and make a happy noise, practically moaning as the bite touches your tongue. The sound goes straight to his stomach, Boothill turning his face away from you as he tries to ignore the fire it lights in him. His eyes are suddenly very intent in counting the swirls in the grain of wood underfoot. 

“God, these are delicious. Boothill, please tell me you’re going to have some too,” you whine slightly, not wanting him to miss out on the treats. 

“I will darlin’, just in a minute.”

He’s trying to stop himself from falling apart at the suggestion that you might be so kind as to touch him, to breathe in his general direction. 

“Nonsense. Here, I won’t be able to eat it all anyway.”

He’s startled when you come around to stand in front of him, leaning down as you break off a piece of the pastry to press against his lips. 

“Just open up,” you pout. 

The look on your face, paired with the fact that he knows if he was a lesser man - which he so wishes he was - he’d be able to look down your shirt with your movement, makes his lips part. You take advantage of it, pressing the morsel into his mouth. His throat suddenly feels parched, staring up at you as though you were the answers to all of his prayers. 

You totally are. 

He swallows mindlessly, not even able to taste a single ounce of the treat. You stare at him with those wide eyes of yours, his hands fighting desperately to grab you and pull you onto his lap and have his way with you. 

Suddenly, he’s plagued with images of you under him making the same noises you just did. Your fingers press against his lips again, this time far more insistently as you plead for him to keep going. His eyes are wide as he stares blankly in your direction, totally gone to the world as you wave your hand in front of his face. 

“Boothill?’ 

“Nothin’!” he says quickly, standing up with his drink. 

He downs the glass before mumbling some sort of apology to you. He knows you have no idea what he just said or what’s going through his mind right now and he prays it stays that well.

You follow him as he practically barrels through the halls, unable to get the image he conjured up of you off of his mind. 

“Boothill, are you okay?” you ask as you chase after him.

“You look downright flush!”

You grab his hand, forcing him to stop in his tracks as you press your hand up to his forehead. The heat of your hand does not help matters as he’s forced to meet your gaze again, those lips of yours tempting him fiercely. 

“Should I get you some help? Maybe I can call someone to get you some medicine. Would that help?” you ask nervously, concern growing for him with every second that passes. 

“No, that’s not it,” he says, taking your hand off of his forehead. 

“I had a long day. We can do somethin’ tomorrow. I just need to get washed up and go to bed.” 

You don’t look like you believe him, brows knotted as you try to reach for him again.

“I don’t care if it’ll put me in danger. If something happened to you I’d never forgive myself. I’m worried about you.” 

He thinks you should be more worried about yourself, hands betraying his rational mind as he plants his palms on your hips. He knows you’re used to him being handsy, especially after the horse ride he took you on but his grip is much harsher this time. He thinks it is at least, trying his best not to squeeze you too tightly. 

“Doll, I mean it. I’m okay,” he says roughly, pressing his forehead to yours. 

“You’ll see me in the mornin’. I promise.” 

At that you relent, knowing that if he promised you then you don’t need to worry. Hesitantly, you step back, Boothill’s palms already missing the way your body felt in his hands. His fingers twitch, wanting to just grab you again but he stops himself, watching forlornly as you accept his words and walk away. 

Once he’s sure you’re gone he turns into his bedroom, making sure the door is locked behind him as he finally feels the strain of his cock against his pants. He’s glad the material of his jeans made it hard to see the sizeable bulge pressing against the zipper, begging for release. His hand comes down to palm at himself, a sharp hiss leaving his lips as he finally feels some of his desperate desire for you sate itself. 

He bites his lip, trying to stop himself from going any further. He doesn’t want to sully your image with his impure thoughts, no stranger to a night of companionship but never with someone he’s grown to care for as much as you. 

But he can’t stop thinking about you. He can’t stop thinking about the way you smelled when he held you on his horse, the warmth of your body pressed into his chest. By the grace of the gods he somehow wasn’t hard despite your ass practically rubbing against his pelvis totally unintentionally. He was just trying to ride the way he normally would but now with the addition of you and grossly underestimated how much room there would be. Not only that but you let him hold you so tightly that he knew you could feel the pounding of his heart. 

A low curse slips past his lips and he catches himself sliding his cock out of his pants before he knows it. His palm is hot against his shaft, tip already leaking from the thought of you as he trails his arousal down to his base. His fist begins to move up and down his shaft slowly, back landing against the door to his room as his hips buck into his hand. He can’t stop himself, body so worked up with the sole goal of one thing and one thing only. 

It takes him no time to stand at full mast, only having to think back to the small peek of you he allowed himself when you leant over to give him a bite of the muffin. The way your shirt gave way to beg him to give into his desires, to make you his and hopefully, somehow make this ache deep in his body finally go away. 

His body is far too heated now, stumbling out of the thick denim of his jeans as he makes his way back to his bed. He sits on the edge of it, cool sheets desperate to wrap themselves around your form. He hates how easily he can imagine it, how he’d make you moan and beg for him and how he’d be so kind and make you cum over and over again on his cock. He’d hate to make you cum on anything else for your first time together - he knows that his body needs to feel you clenching around him, milking the muscle as he tries to hold back to let you ride out your orgasm. 

His cock is hot and heavy in his hand, tip drooling as it begs to be inside of you. He strokes himself faster, moaning to himself softly as the sound of his skin over skin gets more intense. He knows he needs more but he doesn’t know what to do until his eyes fall onto his pillow. 

The night before you had crashed in his room. You had gotten yourself dolled up for dinner with him and the rest of the ranch hands, wanting to feel like you were going out for dinner. However, work took much longer than any of them had anticipated and you decided to take a nap on his bed. The sheets still smelled like your shampoo and perfume, heels forgotten in the corner of the room from when you decided you were too tired to move the few feet down to your own room. 

It can only be described as rough the way he mounts the pillow that smells like you, a body pillow that he kept on his bed because he had a tendency to grab in his sleep. A low moan slips past his lips as his cock settles against the plush, the scent of you making him grind against it roughly. All he can imagine is that it’s the plush of your body under him, his cock drilling into that spot inside of you that makes you see stars. You’re desperate and begging for him, needing him to fuck you until you know nothing but what his name tastes like on your tongue. 

He braces his weight against the headboard, knuckles going white as he holds himself back from slamming it against the wall from the bucking of his hips. He knows that you two share a wall and he needs to hide his noises from you. But he also knows that you’re also human - there’s a chance you’re laying on that bed, hands shoved down your pants as you make yourself cream around your fingers. 

The sight has him fucking his pillow harder, hoping more than anything that if you’re ever doing anything like that, it’s to the thought of him. To the thought of his cock bullying its way into your tight hole, claiming every inch of you as he kisses you breathless. His balls grind harshly into the fabric as his hips pick up pace, the hand not bracing himself coming to tease at his nipples. The sensation definitely makes him moan loud enough for you to hear were you actively listening for him, springs creaking under his exertion.

He shifts down, arms wrapping around the pillow as he holds it tightly to keep his rough pace. He can bury his moans easier now that he’s got his face in his sheets, hips moving wildly as he tries to make himself cum. He knows he looks absolutely pathetic right now, biting his lip as he stifles his moans and humps against his pillow like a dog in heat. 

It doesn’t take him long to finally cum all over his sheets, cock flush as it spurts against his stomach and pillow. He takes a deep breath as his hips continue their languid grind, sitting up and trying to cool off as he watches the cum drip down from his cock onto his bed. He knows he needs to clean up but he can’t right now, nerves shot from how hard he just came. 

He knows he’s totally fucked. There’s no way he’ll be able to cum ever again without thinking about you.

[vxsellie]

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ masterlist !

HEADCANNONS

domesticity (domestic gf!ellie) femininity (hyper femme!reader)

DRABBLES

just right (ellie does your eyeliner) 0.4k familial (ellie meets your parents) 0.8k

ONE SHOTS

piercingly perfect (tattoo artist! ellie) 3.5k aflame (firefighter!ellie x rescued!reader) 7.7k to wash ashore (pirate!ellie x siren!reader) 4.3k the unity in pain (solider!ellie x field medic!reader) 3.6k ghosts of sacrilege (fbi agent!ellie x nun!reader) 9.6k kindly darlin' (country singer!ellie,, sorta) 5.1k

SERIES

tangled bones (wild west au) 00chs

SMAU

a happy accident (literal chaos im sorry) 07chs going public (fake dating band!au) ??chs

[gg-pedro]

can you hear the music (ch. 2) - joel miller x reader

masterlist

summary: everyone in jackson is trying to distract themselves from something. you teach ellie piano and find yourself trying to help more than one miller settle into their new world.

chapter 2: navigating joel’s heart is a bittersweet thing. mostly sweet, though.

warnings: post outbreak!joel, jackson!era, joel x reader, AFAB!reader, platonic!ellie x reader, implied age gap, fingering, unprotected piv (don't do that tho), fairly tame aside from that, brief descriptions of an injury, mentions of blood, hurt/comfort, angst, weird feelings (and there's more where that came from!)

words: 2.5k

a/n: I wrote the majority of this while listening to clocks by coldplay. hope this helps. (also thank you for the love on chapter 1! glad I'm not the only ooey gooey joel miller lover.)

-

Joel, yes. Joel, yes. Joel, please. 

Repeating his name like a metronome, a 2/4 time signature, the beginnings of a beautiful song coming from your lips and melting against the warm skin of his bare shoulder.

Your clothes had vanished somewhere in between the hall at the top of the stairs and the entrance of your bedroom. Joel grabbed you, nudging you back against your own creamy bedsheets. He took you in, all of you. He was between your thighs in an instant, head bowed between your parted legs like he was praying at the base of an altar.

“You’ve done this before, right, baby?” He pulled you by your hips, his big hands settling perfectly into the indentation of your waist.

You rolled your eyes and brought a hand up to cup his scruffy cheek. The answer was yes, you’d had sex before, but this? No, you had never been so wildly attracted to someone, so soaked from the start, so certain that your partner’s touch was the closest you were ever going to get to God. 

“You don’t have to be gentle with me.”

“‘M gonna be gentle with you, darlin’. Tell me to stop and I will, alright? I will, you don’t feel bad about nothin’ here.” He bowed down to kiss you again, sloppy and warm, his fingertips ghosting the length of your torso. He made you shudder and gasp against his open mouth.

He found your slick entrance, teasing you with two calloused fingers whose grooves made your back arch and your mouth fill with saliva. You reached down to stimulate your aching clit as he pumped his middle and ring finger in and out of you, speeding up, slowing down, testing your reaction from the strangled sounds of pleasure escaping your lips.

You fell right into it, your form turning to putty underneath him. His fingers curled and hit that ribbed edge inside of you until your hand on his shoulder blades turned into a pleading vice grip, begging for more.

“Joel… Joel, I–”

He stopped immediately, unsure if your mumblings were that of pleasure or uncertainty. He hovered over you, his lips ghosting across your jawline. “Say it, baby. What do you want?”

“You,” you said without hesitation. You wanted to come undone with his dick inside of you. Just him, pure and raw and carnal. 

His belt had already been undone, and he forced down his worn jeans and boxers to reveal his stiffened cock. You licked your fingers, bringing your hand around to stroke up and down the frontside of his length. It was a biblical sight: throbbing veins clearly visible, looking almost too oversized for you to take properly. 

He grabbed your middle and pulled you upright against his body, legs bent and slightly parted on the bed. You fit perfectly between him, wrapping the two of you together as your lips found each other’s in another desperate fervor. You sank down onto his cock, your walls clenching around him immediately and involuntarily. Twin moans sounded from both of your throats, and Joel didn’t give you more than a few seconds before he was thrusting upwards into you. 

The two of you shared the work, with him setting a sweet pace and you grinding your hips to meet it. Your bodies were both slick with sweat, faces reddenned; two burning silhouettes against a backdrop of patchy orange light. 

Joel was gentle and balanced at first, his motions coordinated and purposeful. In your warm, tight walls, you knew he was unraveling. When his thrusts grew jerky, he forced you back onto the bed, nipping and biting at the skin across your neck and collarbone while you clawed at his back. 

Joel. Fuck, yes. Please, I’m–

There it was again, that chorus you couldn’t sweat out.

“I’m here, baby, I got you. Drivin’ me up the fuckin’ wall with those little sounds.”

You couldn’t hold out any longer. Tears fought their way out of your eyes as you muffled uncontrolled moans into his shoulder. You saw white, and then things were fuzzy until the black faded from the corners of your vision. He’d fucked you blind, you were afraid.

That sent him tumbling over the edge after you, his entire body slowing and twitching as he gave the last few thrusts into your over-sensitive, aching hole. When he pulled out of you he cupped your cheek with one of his hands, swiping away the trail of tears with the pad of his thumb.

He kissed you again, and again, kissing you breathless and dizzy. He rolled over to the other side of you with a low grunt and pulled your body in close to him.

“Y’alright? Didn’t hurt you or nothin’?” He propped himself up to take another good look at your face. He was cataloging it– memorizing you.

You smiled and gazed up at him in the warm light. “No. You’re perfect. Stop worrying.”

“Yes ma’am.”

He smiled. It was a real smile, one you hadn’t seen before.

You both tended to yourselves in the bathroom afterwards before collapsing back into bed together. You slept for the first time in months. It didn’t matter how many nights had passed with you curled up in a warm bed in Jackson, away from the bitter wilderness or outside threats, you never could shake that nagging feeling that you were one wrong move away from death. You slept restlessly everywhere, waking up drowning in your quilted comforter and drenched in sweat in the still morning. 

But this time, when you were startled awake from a restful sleep, sunlight dripping through the curtains–

He was awake, too. He cracked a grin as your fingers found their way into his unkempt hair. 

“Go back to sleep, baby,” he whispered. 

He pulled you close to his chest, hand placed protectively on the back of your head until it trailed down to your neck and shoulders, nails raking lightly over chilled skin.

Yeah. This was going to kill you. Both of you, more likely than not. 

You slept anyway.

-

Joel came to you. Often. 

The two of you had improvised a system. Of course you had, you were having sex with Joel Miller. You would leave your bedroom light on after curfew if he was free to come. It worked out well. Clearly, because he was sharing a bed with you more nights out of the week than not.

He would come in, a little more than tired, and melt right into your arms like liquid mercury. He wouldn’t say much at first, just mumbling that he missed you and couldn’t stop thinking about you while he was gone. Wanted to make sure you were alright. He’d pull back for a moment, scanning your features and any exposed skin on your body. 

“I’m fine, Joel. Stop worrying about me.”

Tucking his head into the space where your neck met your shoulder, he sighed. “I know, I know. I can’t.”

That was true, you knew it was. And it was sweet. And it was reason enough to keep him wrapped in your arms all night. 

Sometimes he fucked you, sometimes he didn’t. Sometimes, though, he fucked you raw and shaky and teary-eyed. It was always a surprise, but a welcome surprise, something that you could look forward to throughout the days in Jackson that tended to bleed together.

On one particular night, a few minutes past 10 o’clock, the front door knob turned, opened, and clicked shut in one swift motion. You came down the stairs to meet him, unbuttoning the cardigan you had thrown on over clothes. The expression on his face gave you pause for a moment. He was holding his left arm in an unnatural way, a little stiffened and sort of awkward. He looked exhausted and there was a pinch between his eyebrows.

You smoothed a hand over his bearded face and took the arm gently into your hand to examine it. His jacket had a slash through it and a mixture of dried and fresh blood had seeped into the fabric of his flannel beneath it. He pushed you away, instead curling his good arm around your lower back and pulling you in. 

“What happened?”

He looked away from you, inhaling sharply as you twisted out of his embrace to examine his arm again. “Fucked around too much with an old hunter’s trap. Clipped me good. I’m fine.”

You smacked his shoulder before turning to gather supplies from the kitchen. A wet washcloth, soap, and a stash of bandages you took from the clinic. Look, these were hard times, and you had yourself to think of, too.

“You’re an idiot,” you said from the other room. “I thought you could’ve been bit. Why didn’t you go to the clinic? Someone should’ve been on staff. Who were you with?”

He came to take a seat at the kitchen table, a shuddery little sound escaping his throat as he shed his jacket and rolled up one sleeve. Ignoring all of your questions, he said, “Bit? I wouldn’t fuckin’ come here if that happened.”

You thought about that scenario and what it would entail for a brief moment before shutting it out of your mind. Joel was here, with you, mostly in one piece. 

“You’re still an idiot.”

You sat down in the chair next to him and brought his arm up so that it was flush with the table. It wasn’t so bad, just a few punctures. The part that concerned you was where he had evidently pulled it out from the metal and the skin had snagged.

The moment you started dabbing at it with soapy water, he flinched and pulled back. “You don’t have to do this. I ain’t asking you to do this,” he clarified. 

Ignoring him this time, you situated yourself to access the wound again, dabbing away the dried blood around his arm. “Well here I am, Joel. If you aren’t gonna take care of yourself, I’m happy to do it. Tommy would. Ellie would. You don’t go to them, though.”

You go to me. 

You cleansed the jagged tears with fresh water and patted it dry. “What did you think was going to happen? You come here, I ignore the gaping hole in your arm, we fuck and then you leave?”

He sat back and his eyes were glued to the ceiling. “No. I don’t fuckin’ know, alright? Ellie’s a kid, and Tommy… I don’t know what I thought.”

He raised his voice and you stared at him. When he met your eyes again, they were tired and glassy.

“‘M sorry, baby. I’m sorry. I just–” He brought his good hand up to your face, his thumb gliding back and forth against your skin. “I ain’t gonna be a burden on you. You’re too young, y’shouldn’t have to take care of me.”

Shaking your head and fighting back tears, you unwound a long strip of bandages. “Shut up. What’s gotten into you? You can’t just say shit like that.”

“–if somethin’ happened to me, I wouldn’t want you to–”

“Jesus fucking christ, Joel, I said shut up.”

If something happened to Joel, you were pretty sure the world would stop. Nowadays, yours was so small to begin with. You couldn’t just forget about him. Pretend like none of this had ever happened. You couldn’t unfeel the way he touched you, or unhear his voice, or unsee his silhouette reflected in the constellations as he laid next to you at night. 

Joel’s face faltered. “Hey. Hey, shh, c’mere.” He pulled you into him, disregarding the sting as he held you in his arms. “I’m just worn out, sweetheart. It ain’t you, It’s me.”

You just nodded. Your breathing synced up with his, and for a second, everything didn’t feel so heavy.

“I’m sorry.” You said into the crook of his neck.

“Don’t say sorry.” He rubbed his wide hand up and down your back. “You’ll still finish fixin’ me up?”

And you did. Of course you did. You wrapped the gash up in 20 year old gauze, kissed his forehead and made him promise he’d get it checked out in the morning. You both knew he wouldn’t, but he smiled and promised you anyway.

Such was the way of your promises to each other. You couldn’t guarantee anything, but you could pretend. At least while you were in each other's arms. 

-

Joel could hear piano music pouring out from every edge and crack of your home when he came by to walk Ellie to dinner. It almost made him smile– there was a distinct shift between Ellie’s playing and your demonstration to her.

He listened for a while before finally knocking hard on the door. He heard Ellie shifting around, and then flinging the door open to greet him. “Hey, Joel, have you ever seen Star Wars? The music is super cool.” 

He could see the sheet music entitled ‘Princess Leia’s Theme’ resting on the stand. Something twisted in his heart, something mournful and nostalgic, and he had to push it back down before it started hurting.

“Thanks for the lesson! Can I come tomorrow, too? I’ll forget all that by next week,” Ellie said, turning to face you once her shoes and coat had been tugged on.

You smiled, leaning against the doorframe. “Sure, as long as Joel doesn’t mind me stealing you away again.”

Joel kept his eyes on Ellie. “It’s fine.”

Joel kept it curt with you, especially around her. You didn’t need to try to argue with his reasoning. A part of it hurt a little, if you were being honest. Your relationship was harmless. It would be even more harmless if the two of you weren’t sneaking around after dark like two teeagers. But you understood, as much as one could possibly understand Joel Miller. 

“Good. See you then.”

Ellie still noticed. While the two of them walked away from your house after a successful session, she posed the question to Joel. 

“Did something happen between you guys?” She kicked some snow up off the ground with the toe of her boot.

“No,” Joel replied. 

“Then why’d you barely say anything to each other?”

He gave her a look, one that would signal to any other person to fuck off and stop prying, but she ignored it. “Don’t have to. You got a problem with that?”

“Yeah. I mean, it just seems like… pretty weird that you didn’t even say bye.” She went silent for a moment, mulling something over. “Does this have to do with that time you didn’t get me from Tommy’s? Or when I couldn’t find you at the stables? Or when–”

“–Stop yourself right there, Ellie, I’ve already answered too fuckin’ many of your questions,” he interjected. 

That only made her grin. She laughed a little and smacked him in the shoulder. “Oh, man. Oh, this is good. You’re fucked. I totally know.”

“You don’t know anything,” and then, under his breath, “little shit.”

“Defensive and quiet? Fuckin’ hell, dude, you suck at this,” she said, laughing. “She’s too cool for you, man.”

Joel, trying his absolute best to fend off the smile at the corner of his lips, just shook his head.

“Shut up.”

-