#consciously using. he REALLY felt as though he had no other safe options. that was the THING with jgy. that he really wanted to Survive

[randomly--accessed--memories]

how does nifty deal with being in heaven? especially since she probably gets redeemed way before vox does

Niffty's in... a unique situation. Her redemption took a while since she struggled to really grasp the importance of the work she was doing at the hotel, but unlike Vox, she did get a chance to consciously do the work of self-improvement.

Arriving in Heaven was... bizarre. She knew she was ascending as it happened, but once she actually arrived, suddenly everything was different. It was as though she'd been jolted awake after a long sleep. Things made sense in ways they hadn't for decades; she'd spent so long perceiving everything and everyone around her as a fun, silly game that it was beyond jarring for things to suddenly snap back into focus.

Like Vox, Niffty had some identity issues. She wasn't quite sure who she was now. She now understood that her whole identity had been forcibly altered by a stranger on a fucking whim, but... her new identity didn't feel fake. She hadn't completely forgotten who she used to be like Vox had, so her pre-torture and post-torture selves didn't feel as dramatically segmented as his. Didn't mean it wasn't still a bear of a thing to wrestle with though.

It was nice to have so many of her friends up there waiting for her though. They did everything they could to help her adjust and work through the mess of trauma that she was only now capable of processing. Privately, she felt lucky that they never pulled away from her, despite her being so different (and yet so similar) than the person they remembered her as.

Eventually, Niffty was able to find as much peace and happiness in Heaven as was possible for her. However, Vox always weighed on her mind. He was still down there– still trapped in the mental prison Alastor had created for the both of them. She wished so badly that she could do something to help him, contact him in some way, but now that she was finally capable of putting together why the hotel crew had suddenly lost all contact with him, she knew that it wasn't an option. Getting the call from Pentious that Vox had ascended... it was beyond emotional for her. It felt as though the final loose end of her story had been tied up; at last, the one other person in the world who had gone through the same thing she had was safe. They were free. They were themselves again. Alastor lost.

[multistanisms]

Let Our Circle Be Unbroken;  Prologue | NCT

FANDOM: NCT

PAIRING: Jaehyun x Taeyong, Yuta x OC

WORD COUNT: 1,703

RATING: PG-13

POTENTIAL TRIGGERS: Mentions of violence, blood, pain, animal death

SUMMARY:  Surviving a near death experience comes with a lot of surprises when warlock Jeong Jaehyun finds a dragon in a place that holds tragic memories for him. Nothing is as whirlwind, though, as when Jaehyun begins to meet the little clan of misfits Taeyong has gathered over the years and a mystery is revealed.

Author Notes: Reposting this from my archived blog to update the links [cuz I do not remember how to log into my old fic blog]

Previous || Masterlist || Next

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

‘Shit. This is bad. Really bad.’ Jaehyun thought as he ran. His magic enabled him to carry an unnatural speed in his rush, but the blood seeping from his side was an impending sign of how quickly he could lose consciousness if he wasn’t careful. He could hear the hunters, however, so stopping was not a viable option. The small group was far enough out of reach to not make a direct hit on him with their weapons but still close enough to hear their hounds and shouts. Humans with little more than fear and a prejudice against those who were different. Jaehyun was no fool to think he was immune to the tragedy of the human mind; he’d lived long enough to know better. No one who was born supernatural - even humans who happened to have a supernatural ancestor and ended up gifted - could escape being the object of human failure. 

This, though, was by far the closest in centuries the warlock had felt close to death. Even his magic was waning, losing it’s precision as his vision began to blur and darken at the edges. ‘Fuck, I’m running out of time.’ The thought hit him harder than a swift punch to the stomach or an unexpected kick to the nether region, and the warlock dove into the shadows of a nearby alley, cloaking himself. A swift escape was of utmost importance if he planned on surviving the wound in his side and keeping his eyes; the thing Jaehyun knew they would take as a trophy from his death. Dark hair was caked with sweat and Jaehyun is glaringly aware that he needs to focus on escaping or he may not make it to see the sunrise. His manor isn’t safe anymore, he knows that. If they could flush him out from his café, they no doubt knew where his home was. His other properties were currently being used as safehouses, and Jaehyun was in no way going to kickstart any stress or shock to those guests. A shaky breath shook Jaehyun’s body as he closed his eyes, glamour falling. As he looked up at the sky, he opened his eyes, revealing reptilian green irises accented by rainbow slits. His glamour wasn’t a priority compared to the situation he was in. A breath taken too hard made him wince as he leaned his head back against the dark grey terracotta wall.

‘Damn it, Jaehyun, think.’ he scolds himself, hand pressing to the gunshot wound in his side. ‘Think, think, think. Somewhere. There has to be somewhere.’ 

He’s jolted back to reality viciously when the renewed sounds of baying from the dogs is suddenly much closer. Large hunting breeds, vicious when they find their intended target. Fear riddles through Jaehyun’s blood like a discarded cigar on gasoline, and there’s a sudden flash through his mind. The answer is a risk, and there are so many emotions that bubble through his heart, but escape is at his grasp and he isn’t going to squander it because of a past he’d rather forget. Hope blooms to simmer down some of the fear, and his eyes ripple to life, glamour and natural color fighting as he brings the necessary casting rune to the forefront of his mind. He knows he has one, maybe two or an even slimmer three chances at this before he completely loses consciousness from the blood and he’s killed by fangs and crossbows alike. He traces the rune over the concrete, begging for it to work. Uneven breath halts when the magic fizzles and dies, leaving a pale shape on the cement. ‘No. Damn it to hell.’ he thought, frantically scribbling the rune on the cold pavement again. ‘Not here. Not like this. Please, no.’ Every fiber of his being was focused between panic and the need to escape. The rune fizzles at the edges and Jaehyun’s heart begins dropping before the magic sticks and the rune changes shape into the round portal that offers him escape. He moved to toss himself through the hole when his relief was cut short. A loud growl and sharp pain exploded over his arm as one of the dogs located him. With a yelp, Jaehyun’s balance was lost and he fell into the space, dragging the canine with him into the brief abyss before he crashed into a table on a large porch that gave way. 

Air left him in a rush and a weak groan, the overall pain finally making it almost impossible to stay awake. The dog released his arm and went to find purchase elsewhere when something snatched it up, and Jaehyun was vaguely aware of potential danger when he heard the brief scuffle of his predator becoming prey instead. Danger. The manor in the field wasn’t safe, either, it seemed. His vision was nearly completely black at this point, all he was aware of was black and rainbow dancing before him as unconsciousness took him hostage. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Dragons had long faded from the forefront of the minds of the normal humans, but it wasn’t so simple as they had died off or been killed. Most had merely learned to stay in their human forms when among the masses, clans separated into smaller numbers to keep the species safe. Lee Taeyong was the youngest of the small sect from his clan, and the first to leave to find a clan of his own. His older sister, Areum, and their parents supported the choice, knowing full well that Taeyong had never really been able to be happy among only dragons. 

“Something else calls to you, little brother. You have to follow that to find your happiness.” Areum had told him as he had prepared to leave. IT was an emotional goodbye, but somehow, Taeyong knew he was heading into great things. 

And so the young dragon had gone off, found a clan of his own, and though the ranks weren’t large, the overall species was well mixed. And sometimes the clan had their own business to attend to, which was how Taeyong had found himself wandering the world, looking for a kind of vacation home for when the clan could reunite under one roof again. He had found one and had been working on remodeling and repairing it. The walls had all come down at their own pace, and the dragon had replaced them all and brought the house back to a lovely splendor. The high, covered wrap around porch was carefully set with a few swings, tables and chairs. Various plants were hung from the edge of the covering, a few potted plants settled among the railing around the porch. What had been an abandoned mansion that felt tragic and hopeless had started changing into a loving space. There was no furniture, but that would come in time. For now, the most important part was complete. The building was ready for it’s first bout of excitement when the clan gathered, and Taeyong was happy to think of that as he sat on the porch swing near the front door with a hot cup of tea as he watched the fall leaves drift about on the wind. His dream of making the property a home was almost done. A large garden ran along the west side of the mansion, a flower garden with a large pond and gazebo just north of the back entrance of the house. Imagining the fun and laughter that would one day be had made him content and he was humming softly to himself when there was a ripple of magic that pricked at his senses and made the hair on his arms stand up, goosebumps tracing up pale skin even under the soft, warm fabric of his favorite hoodie. Said goosebumps shivered briefly into black and rainbow colored scales that faded faster than they appeared. 

Curious, Taeyong reached to set his cup on the side table next to the swing, standing to walk down the porch steps and look around, hand resting on the large picnic table settled onto a large stone garden setup he had made for au fresco dining. Face contorted in confusion, he hummed curiously, moving to turn back when the magic came back in a much stronger wave, and Taeyong shifted out of protective instinct. The strong scent of coppery blood hit his nose first, then a loud crash and growling. When the intruding creature realized there was someone else, it released its prey to charge at Taeyong, only to wind up eaten by the large dragon. Tension still in his muscles, he turned his attention to the now destroyed table. The tabletop itself was surprisingly intact, the legs, however, would need to be remade. Now, though, with the immediate threat out of the way, the dragon brought himself closer to the scent of blood to better investigate. What he found was startling for him. The male was unconscious and very hurt, and despite the wounds and ragged breathing, Taeyong could see the male was beautiful. Magic was a palpable taste in the air, telling Taeyong the young man was likely a warlock or witch. What struck the dragon as odd was the intense need to save the other. 

Shifting back into human form, he lifted the other with ease, forgetting about the blood around his mouth and on his clothes as he carried the male into the mansion and laid him on the couch. “Where did you come from, beautiful?” he asked, looking over what he could to assess the damage. Blood had dried the male’s clothing to his skin, and there was a chunk of the man’s arm from the animal biting him. It was a lot to patch up for just one dragon, so Taeyong made a choice as he wrapped the dark blanket he’d been using around the unknown male. He walked to the porch to grab his phone, dialing a number as he knelt by the couch to brush his hand through the dark hair of the hurt man. When the other side fo the line picked up, Taeyong smiled. 

“Hey there, handsome. Are you and Arashi free? I need some serious help and your girl has the best magic to do so.”

[dragonmasterhiccup]

She smiles, squeezing his hand back. “Not at all. Here-” Melodía gently runs a hand down his back, and the dorsal fin painlessly collapses on itself, kind of like an accordion. “You can fold it up when you need to, like that. You won’t need my help, once you’ve practiced enough.”

“Of course, my love.” The mermaid kisses his forehead. When he asks about Toothless, her expression softens a bit. She caresses his cheek. “Well, I’m sure he misses you as much as you miss him. But I wouldn’t worry. He’s safe on Berk with your father, and he has Perseus to keep him company. Maybe next time you visit, Papa can turn Toothless into a sea dragon or something so he can come too.” She giggles.

The girl takes one last good look at him, smiling softly before giving him a quick kiss. “Goodnight, Hiccup. I love you.” On her way out, she stops by a little shelf by the door, where a little glowing cuttlefish had been sitting the whole time to illuminate the room. She gives it a kiss on the head, to which it turns its little light off, getting comfortable on its little roost. The princess waves to Hiccup before leaving to go to her room.

(Feel free to have Hiccup come in for anything if you want. If not, thats fine too, just keeping the options open 😊)

He nearly gasped, having no idea it could do that. "Huh! Who'd have thought?"

He smiled at the thought. "I'd really like that. We're not often separated from each other... actually, we're never apart, really...so, it's a little strange, I must admit..."

Kissing her back, he said, "I love you, too."

His eyes stayed on her until she passed through the seaweed curtain, and then, for the first time in a very long time, he was alone.

-----------------------

It had taken him some time to fall asleep, and while the sponge bed was soft, he wasn't used to it. He ended up curling up on the sandy floor, finding it closer to the wooden bed he had his whole life.

It seemed cruel though, that tonight of all nights, he'd have a nightmare of a memory from a few years back, when he was on Dragon's Edge...

He was working to free the Submaripper, and now he was trapped in his own invention.

Hands pressed to the Deathsong amber window, he tried to keep calm as the water poured in, seeing Toothless on the other side, his eyes full of sadness.

"I wouldn't leave you either, bud."

But then, a large figure approached.

"TOOTHLESS!"

And suddenly... everything went black.

Hiccup felt weightless, floating with the current, losing consciousness ---

"Toothless!"

He woke with a start, sitting up straight, breathing rapidly. Where was he? Where was Toothless?

Why did he feel like he was underwater still?

Where were his legs?!

Getting his bearings, he started to calm down, the events of the day before coming back to him.

He was in Triton's castle.

Triton made him a merman, so he could visit.

Toothless was still on Berk.

Toothless was still on Berk...

His eyes stung, missing his best friend. Toothless would often comfort him after his nightmares, and Hiccup always fell asleep quickly to the sound of the dragon's breaths as he leaned on the Night Fury.

But he couldn't do that tonight.

He just needed a friendly face, maybe that would be comforting enough.

He swam over, separating the seaweed curtain so he could slip though, and paused outside Melodía's room.

He wasn't going to wake her. He just needed to see her, that's all. Then he'd go back to sleep.

Parting the curtain, he perked inside, seeing her sleeping frame.

His expression softened as he saw her, feeling better already.

[cintaagee]

Moving on? Or moving in?

Things are at a standstill. Everything feels like it´s awaiting my decisions and now it seems like I am starting to get overwhelmed and crawl back into my shell.

It´s either a new flat, loose life of hobbies, writing, free time, nature, loneliness and self reliance. Either with a job that could be the same I have now or whatever comes along to pay for health and social insurance, I would have a lot of time, almost nothing to take care of.

Or this hectic comfort zone where I have my place in constant chaos, no free time, expensive life, every facility close and one unresolved issue with three moneygrubbing bastards who get money for something they actively avoid doing. Oh yeah and one manchild who does not get the notion of responsibility, because he never had to in the real sense, all he knows that if he works, money comes and that´s it.

It´s true though, he takes care of only the problems that bother him, I mean, anybody does, right? But does not see the deeper picture.

Is that true though, because I know he used to feel so entitled and annoyed if I asked him for something simple.

Is he just really afraid for his safety and is he going to go back to his old ways if I give him freedom to do as he pleases?

Well I mean experiences say so. As soon as he felt safe, all commitment usually went out the window.

Maybe i need to keep him at an arms length and take the option of deciding that out of his hands.

Because it hurts. When he stops trying, supporting, loving, talking, and hides away in his little bubble.

And all I ever wanted was for him to feel safe enough to be himself.

Still bugs me that I don´t really know, who that is.

Maybe I don´t need to, I just need to hope he´s capable enough to know right from wrong if I leave him to his devices.

And I need my freedom, because being isolated in this void is overwhelming.

summary:

Maybe move out, help him ease his consciousness... helping the girl he hurt could be a good start.

Push him to accountability to take care of the baby.

If I meet resistance he´s afraid of the punishment/responsibility or he thinks he doesn´t deserve it.

First option could be viable but knowing now that he´s a good liar, second option is also very viable because of his delayed reaction to my horrified face and trying to justify his action by blaming her.

I mean everytime I write it down it sounds like I live around and love a monster and then I come home to the sweetest man you can imagine. Dexter vibes huh?

Man I just wish the sex wasn´t so good.

While moving out, try and establish contacts with a logistics companies and markets for food that is cheaper because I wanted to establish a company that helps old people that do not want to leave their home.

I mean, a person on the phone, taking care of 5-6 clients, cleaning apartments, bringing groceries, leaving messages to their loved ones so they know how they´re doing because sometimes they just don´t want to be a burden and don´t tell you how it really is.

one thing though...either driving them around so they can pick up their prescriptions... or having an established contact with a doctor or a nurse because I know there´s things that they leave to family to do because of underfunded staff and if you do it right you´re just as capable. It´s just so undignified for the person receiving care and every task should be verified by a licence or a written guarantee of training that person thoroughly in that task, with photos of proof. Because there is too much that can go wrong, starting from an uncapable person, over unwilling person to a person who would take advantage of every situation. I mean unless you have a nurse on the go there is no other way legal and they cost really a lot.

Especially after recent law changes.

Or just...write. I mean recently I don´t feel my voice having much f value or weight to it because it seems like anybody wants to hear it or wants to share encouragement or notes or advice or basically anything. But I try, it´s all anyone can do, right? Man, I have been alone in this monologue for so long. I just wish someone could see me, someone equal. Tiredness of this kind really wears you down.

[leatherbookmarking]

it’s funny that in many fics jgy is like, cheating on his current partner, manipulatng people into unhealthy sexual relationships, having sex scandals when like, he’s been the butt of the ‘haha his mother was a whore’ jokes all his... life... you’d Think....

[s-brant]

Needy

gang!harry blurb

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, breeding kink, daddy kink, cockwarming, implied murder/crime, and strong language.

The uncovered windows allow the illumination of the moonlight and stars into their bedroom. It’s a cool, bluish-white light that wakes Y/N from her sleep, making her face twist up in displeasure at the fact that the dream she was having ended so abruptly. Her head turns, cheek brushing against the soft material of the sheets and a sigh sinks her naked chest at the sight that greets her.

Harry.

He sleeps with his chest down to the mattress, those pretty pink lips are parted, and gentle puffs of air blow across her face from their close proximity. One tattooed arm is slung over the slope of her waist. It’s weight provides her security, and the thought of it nearly draws a chuckle from her. Even in sleep, he has to know she’s there. To have one arm around her and the other under his pillow to grab the gun stashed there to protect her from any threat that may approach.

But, it isn’t long before her attention is drawn back to the pulsating heat between her thighs. Right. The dream.

It has left her heart pounding and skin flushed, on the edge of climaxing from what he was doing to her. It felt so real. He had her bent over the desk in his office, one hand twisted up in her hair and the other gripping the supple flesh of her hip to use as leverage for every deep thrust. The rough pads of his fingertips were circling her clit when she was ripped from the blissful fantasy.

Her lip is tugged between her teeth as she debates what to do next.

Two options. One, she could ignore the ache inside of her and try her best to ease back into sleep until morning comes and he must leave for a potentially dangerous job. Two, she could wake him up, satisfy the urge, and they both get to wind themselves down before the stress of tomorrow comes.

Option two, please, she thinks to herself.

She knows better than to slip out from beneath his arm and startle him awake with her absence, so she does the opposite. Scooting closer to the solid warmth of his body, she begins placing gentle kisses on his shoulder, trailing up his neck. The contact of her mouth on his skin causes him to stir, but it doesn’t make him jump awake in a panic or reach for the pistol under his pillow. Only one person on this earth would dare to kiss him awake.

Harry blinks his eyes open through the persuasive veil of sleep to find his wife kissing his neck. One of her hands is sliding down the muscled plane or his torso in pursuit of his softened cock where it sits heavy against his thigh. On instinct, he starts to move his body to allow her better access to him. Half asleep and here he is already starting to stiffen from the brush of her hand on his length.

“I just woke up from a really nice dream about you,” she whispers into the crook of his neck. “Dream you left me hanging, though.”

It takes another ten or so seconds of him coming back to consciousness and reveling in the stimulation of her hand pumping him before he can conjure a semi-coherent response.

“Mmm. Did he?”

A soft nod is made where her face is buried into him. Her lips navigate their way up the familiar terrain of his jaw and chin until she, at last, connects her mouth with his. The smacking of their lips breaks the quiet hanging over their bedroom. Although he has men posted around the house at all hours of the day, Harry’s most rigid boundary is that no one—save for him, Y/N and his right hand—is ever allowed near their room. When so much of his life in entwined with running his gang, this is the one aspect he needs to remain sacred.

The bedroom is their place of worship. Not even the windows can allow a person to view inside, seeing that they are reflective and bulletproof to any bold enemies he’s made along the way. Locked behind a door that opens to a long hallway, no one can hear or reach them. Here, it’s safe. It’s only them.

She pulls away to speak the words into his mouth, although it comes out as more of a whine, “Need you, daddy.”

The steady rise and fall of his chest goes still at this.

He takes her face in his hands and pulls her further away to get a good look. One glance and he knows. He sees right through her. With her pupils blown wide and her focus honed in on him, it’s clear what’s going on.

Their noses brush as he leans in close to invade her space, the hands cupping her face holding tighter in a sign of ownership. Precisely what she wants of him.

“Baby…” he croons it in the same soothing yet commanding tone he favors on nights like these, and she melts for him on the spot. “Y’feeling needy?”

It never fails to dizzy her—how swiftly he’s able to sense when she needs him this way and shift into the mindset. It shouldn’t, though. It’s second nature to him at this point, and, make no mistake, he derives just as much pleasure from it as she does.

The hand wrapped around him never ceases its movements, even as she nods and murmurs, “Please. I was so close.”

They both know it’ll be over soon, so they waste little time.

Harry guides her back onto the bed with a gentle but firm nudge to convey the message. Usually, he’d have the energy to toss her around properly and get the full act going, but a quick look at the clock shows it’s three AM, and he’s still hanging onto that line between being asleep and conscious. This only betters the experience, though. The haziness of their mutual exhaustion forces every lustful action to be committed in primal instinct.

He settles between her spread thighs, sticky with her arousal, and lines himself up with her soaked cunt, sliding home with a tired moan.

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath.

The tight walls of her clamped down around him is undoing in and of itself. Before he begins to rock his hips into her, he already finds himself clinging to his composure. This will be over quickly, then. As long as she comes, he doesn’t mind it.

It’s slow at first. A soft and languid motion. The gentle rising and receding of the tide, of him pulling away and her urging him back where he belongs with her legs wrapped around his hips and hands grabbing onto his well-rounded ass.

For the most part, they don’t speak. Both too lost in the strange blend of sleepiness and pleasure, they communicate in touches, kisses, and moans. The building of her edged climax is steady in its approach. It’d often take more than this to get her there, but with how close she’d been when she woke from her dream, the smooth drag of his cock sliding in and out of her is overwhelming.

His arms are braced on the mattress on either side of her head, caging her in and leaving her to do nothing but watch. Muscles in his chest and abdomen ripple with the sudden strain of him doubling his efforts after hours of sedentary rest. They are tangled up in the sheets and down comforter in a heap of sweating limbs twined together as they rut harder and faster. In spite of the increased intensity, he never loses her eyes or abandons the caring role he’s taken on.

He asks, the deep timbre of his voice running along her body in a tender caress, “Just let go.” Their noses bump with every jerking motion that sends their mouths falling open for air. “Daddy’s got you.”

A high-pitched whine escapes her at this, which sends him into a frenzy of harsh thrusts that result in her manicured fingernails breaking skin open on his back. Their foreheads press together, his chest sitting against her bouncing breasts with little space left between them, and it feels less like they are two separate beings as they near closer to their ends. The exhaustion adds a dream-like quality to it all. It pushes them closer to one another, holding on with everything they have as though the world would fall apart if they let go.

“I want you to come inside me,” she breathes the words out over the sound of their bodies slapping together. Her eyes don’t stray from his as she begs him, “Need you to breed me, daddy. Please, I wanna be full.”

Harry can’t stop himself now: as soon as he hears the words, he’s done for, slamming into her with abandon and adjusting the angle of their bodies to grind his pubic bone down on her clit. The rush of euphoria is too strong for her to ignore any longer, and she follows right after him, still clawing at his back as she writhes beneath him.

The sense of pulsing warmth spreading inside of her heightens every wave of her orgasm. Knowing that he’s pumping her full of his cum is what sent her over the edge, and she can’t help but chant under her breath, “Daddy, daddy, daddy—“ in praise.

He presses his hips as close into her as he can get as he paints her walls with his seed and kisses her with a fervor he’s never experienced elsewhere. She squeezes him in time with the spasms of her orgasm, milking his thick cock until every last drop has been emptied into her. They ride it out together.

Pinned beneath him, she thrusts up to meet the dying undulations of his hips that tuck his cum deeper into her. It isn’t until they are both twitching from hypersensitivity that he finally relents and slows to a stop. The delicate hands splayed over his shoulder blades can feel the rapid rise and fall of his breaths, as well as the slight trembling of his worn, sweating body. There’s a moment of stillness and quiet in which all they do is hold one another as they catch their breath.

He doesn’t dare to pull out of her just yet. This is how she likes it when she gets in this needy headspace; the inherent closeness and intimacy of being full of him, even when they aren’t actively having sex. Instead, he mumbles, “Hold onto me,” and maneuvers them so she is laid on top of him, her body draped over his without his cock ever slipping out of her.

The lure of sleep threatens to take her under the second he positions her on him, but she fights it for the sake of stealing another spare moment with him. And, of course, he picks up on it straight away.

Harry narrows his eyes at her, noting how her eyelids keep drooping only for her to catch herself and jolt back awake. “Why are y’trying to stay up?”

His arms tighten around her frame and keep her pressed in close to him. Everything he says and does guides her further into her current state of calmness. It makes it more difficult to keep her eyes open in order to continue laying here and staring at his face through the darkness.

When she takes too long to respond, a pinch to her ass draws a squeal from her. That same hand that dropped down to pinch her raises to pet her hair back from her face in a repetitive, soothing touch.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

His tone dropped to the same caring but authoritative tone he used moments ago. It leaves little room for refusal, and she bends to his will without hesitation.

Y/N nuzzles her face into his shoulder, savoring the comforting heat of his body, and says, “I wanna spend some time with you before tomorrow.”

Then, it clicks.

That’s what this is about. That’s why she woke up in the middle of the night, acting all clingy and asking for daddy. He should have known. It isn’t uncommon for her to get like this before he goes out on a potentially dangerous job with his men. It’s something about the helplessness of waiting up for him at night that turns her desperate for him to have control over her.

By the time he returns home, sometimes bloody and bruised depending on the type of job it was, she is waiting for him, curled up on their bed in one of his shirts. For the rest of the night, she follows him in every step he takes: into the shower to help him wash another man’s blood from his skin, sitting on the counter while he rifles through the fridge for food, and following him back up the steps to their bedroom.

He says, “Look at me.”

Her head tilts up from its cherished spot—burrowed in his shoulder, lips brushing his swallow tattoo—and he leans up to kiss her.

It’s a consuming kiss. The type that goes soul-deeper and connects them irrevocably. His tongue invaded her mouth, caressing her own and deepening the kiss until neither of them knows where he ends and she begins.

They pull apart.

“I’ll always come home to you.” Her eyes avert to the side, so he takes her chin in his hand and forces her to meet his stare. “Always.”

The next half moment they spend looking at each other seems to stretch on for eternity. And she knows without a doubt that she’d gladly waste away here with him until the end of everything. Her eyes are becoming heavy, and she thinks she’s about to slump back down onto his shoulder and pass out, but—

Harry breaks the silence, saying with a smug grin, “S’not that easy to get rid of me, baby.”

A soft giggle has her body jerking against his, her head falling forward into his chest. The sparse hairs growing there tickle her face, and he tightens his arms up around her again. His own silent way of telling her to relax, get some rest, and to stop working herself up over what has yet to happen.

“You’re stuck with me forever,” he whispers.

Sleep is already beginning to take her now, but she grapples onto consciousness long enough to say back q quiet, “Gladly,” before succumbing to the comfort provided by his embrace. Tomorrow, he’ll come home as he always does, and she will be waiting for him, ready to be his shadow around the house until she falls asleep in his arms again.

As for him, he takes another few minutes to go under. And, though he chastised her for doing the same, he fights it until he cannot physically keep his eyes open. He takes in the sight of her, memorizing it top to bottom until the image of her is burned into his mind. In case he doesn’t come back, he wants his last thought to be of her. Of this. He’ll just close his eyes and come home to her.

[lattefanficcafe]

Twisted Wonderland Anya Like MC Faints Because Of Magicam Monsters

Spoilers for Halloween event!

Diasomnia members know about Anya Like MC’s power here!

You thought that your first Halloween in Twisted Wonderland would be fun.

It was your first time celebrating Halloween actually.

You had your very own dragon costume like Lilia and Malleus.

First day of Halloween week was so much fun for you.

But…

When magicam monsters showed up…

You weren’t sure anymore.

You sure attracted those magicam freaks with your cuteness.

They thought that a photo of you would bring lots of likes.

A huge crow was surrounding you wherever you go.

Those freaks made you feel uncomfortable.

As a telepath you weren’t on good terms with crowds.

Especially very crowded ones…

You tried to bear with it.

Your father Lilia and Malleus was busy with the Ramshackle attraction. So you were with your big brother Silver and Sebek, checking the situation in the other attractions.

“Those magicam monsters… Everyone is literally suffering because of them.”

“Hmph! Lowly humans..!”

“MC hates them too.”

“Don’t worry little lady! I will protect you from those lowly human beings!”

Then you suddenly heard a loud rumble behind you.

“Oh my god! Look at that girl!”

“Is she a NRC student too?!”

“She looks so young though. Is she a prodigy?!”

“I need to take a photo with her!”

“Hey! I saw her first! I will take a photo with her first!”

“That photo would get thousands of likes!”

Oh no…Magicam monsters.

Unfortunately before you could run away they already surrounded you with cellphones in their hands.

“Big brother! Sebek! Save me!”

Sebek and Silver tried their best to take you away from the crowd but they failed.

“You lowly humans! Leave little lady alone!”

Sebek was about to take out his magipen when Silver stopped him.

“We are not allowed to hurt them Sebek.”

“But little lady..!”

“We have to find another way. And your magic can harm MC in this crowd. So it’s not a safe option.”

You started to feel dizzy from all of the peoples thoughts.

It was so noisy and disturbing for you.

Your nose started to bleed and you felt sick.

When Silver and Sebek managed to get you out of the crowd you were about to faint.

“MC! You are bleeding!”

“Big brother…. MC doesn’t feel so good.”

Silver used a napkin to cover your nose and carried you.

“Sebek we need to get her to infirmary.”

“Yes! Quickly!”

You fainted in Silver’s arms when he was carrying you to infirmary.

When you opened your eyes you found yourself in one of the infirmary beds.

Your family was sitting beside you with a worried expression on their faces.

“MC! Thanks seven you are awake!”

“Chi chi…”

It was the first time you saw Lilia’s face like that. You could tell that he was worried sick for you.

“MC is okay now chi chi! It doesn’t hurt anywhere.”

“I am so glad that you are okay.”

“Little lady I apologize! I failed to protect you from those magicam monsters!”

“But big brother and you saved MC from them! MC would be in worse condition if you didn’t. Thank you big brother! Thank you Sebek!”

“Little lady… I won’t let you down in the future!”

“MC… we were really worried when you lost your consciousness. Did they do something to you?”

“Not at all big brother. But… their thoughts was so loud and noisy. MC couldn’t handle it.”

“I see. So your nose bleed as a side effect?”

“Yup.”

“So that’s what happened huh… Those magicam monsters… How bold of them to mess with my daughter.”(I will make them suffer. Peace won’t be an option.)

(Chi chi can be really scary…)”Um… Chi chi. Where is Tsunotarou?”

“He is in a meeting with the headmaster and all other dorm leaders. He is also worried about you a lot so he promised that he will come to visit you once the meeting is over.”

“Okay.”

“Would you like to go back to Diasomnia? Can you walk?”

“Yes. I want to go back to Diasomnia chi chi.”

“Very well. Let’s go everyone.”

Meanwhile in the meeting…:

“Principal Dire! Those Magicam monsters actually harmed a student! This is unacceptable!”

“Dorm Leader Rosehearts I know you are angry but-“

“Oh wow… Seriously? Are we just gonna ignore how those normies harass plus harms the students?”

“Wait… What did I miss? Who did they harm again?”

“MC fainted because of them Al-Asim-san.”

“Say what now?!”

“Uh… This meeting is pointless. We just need to punish them right? End of the discussion.”

“We certainly cannot do that Dorm Leader Kingscholar!”

“But they have no right to do that too. Maybe we should solve this with a contract.”

“No we can’t!”

“Principal Dire I understand that you are worried about the reputation of NRC. But are you really going to pretend that none of this happened.”

“Of course not! They made MC faint after all! And… Crewel would beat me to death if I ignore the fact that MC was harmed. He really adores her.”

“Dire Crowley… MC is my beloved friend. If you ignore the fact that she was harmed I think I could do something so much worse than that. And I think you would feel Lilia’s wrath as well and trust me it’s not a pretty sight. I hope I made myself clear.”

Silence filled the room. Surprisingly Idia was the one who broke this silence.

“Wow… Um… So technically if principal doesn’t do anything about it NRC might not exist anymore? Now that I think about it. Ortho always considered MC as his little sister so… we are lucky he hasn’t heard anything about this yet.”

“Maybe we should cancel the Halloween party…”

“No! MC looks forward to that party!”

“We shall make this party happen!”

And that is how dorm leaders came up with a genius plan of scaring Magicam monsters away.

You can be sure that Lilia and Malleus got your revenge.

And Lilia insisted you to stay in bed for a day.

You didn’t got bored in that day because you had lots of visitors such as Ortho.

“MC. I heard that you fainted! Are you okay?”

“I am okay big brother Ortho!”

“Your health data seems very good indeed! I am glad that you are okay! Don’t worry! My big brother and everyone else is scaring off those Magicam monsters! They won’t bother us again!”

You had lots of fun at the Halloween party.

Walking at the parade was your favorite part of it.

“Chi chi! MC loved Halloween!”

“Fufufu… I am glad that you enjoyed it!”

“Happy Halloween chi chi!”

“Happy Halloween my daughter.”

[ladybugout-au]

Ivan closed the door to his room, then opened his pocket to let Wayzz free. They both knew that Wayzz could just phase through the pocket if he wanted to, but it was a mutual gesture of respect between them.

"I was watching the footage on LadyBugOut's archive," Wayzz said as he flew a small distance away, facing Ivan with a smile. "You did well."

"You think?" Ivan grinned and rubbed the back of his head, growing sheepish at the praise.

Wayzz nodded. "The want to protect others is our strong point. Have you done it before?"

Ivan shook his head, walking over to take a seat on his bed. "No, I never had superpowers until I got this."

"Not that," Wayzz said with a chuckle. He flew over to the little area Ivan had set up for him - a little crudely done but made with love all the same - then sat down and got comfortable. Spreading his arms out, he then explained, "Being a turtle means much more than protecting people. We protect hearts as well."

Ivan genuinely considered that. He supposed it made sense, as Ladybug could fix things emotionally with no use of Miraculous Ladybug needed. Likewise, Chat Noir—

...actually, that was best not thought about.

Shaking his head, he returned to the root of the topic, replying, "I guess Mylene says I'm good at cheering her up?"

"Yes, it's like that." Wayzz smiled approvingly. "We aren't limited to Shell-ter."

Ivan nodded, but frowned as he realized, "I don't know if I'm as good at it now when I'm busy being a hero."

He was referring to Mylene.

Wayzz smiled sadly, getting up and floating over to rest on Ivan's shoulder. "We can't be perfect everywhere," he said, lightly patting Ivan's neck in reassurance.

Ivan glanced over at him, but didn't respond. He'd been a hero for a while, but it still felt unreal to him. He stared down at the disguised bracelet, idly running his fingers along the thread around his wrist as he admitted, "But I still don't get why I got picked?"

It was more idle curiosity than outright self-consciousness. He didn't doubt his abilities, obviously, as he was aware that every hero had their strengths and weaknesses. Being part of the team, it was inevitable to start seeing the flaws of every team member, so he wasn't singling himself out. At the same time though, he couldn't help wondering what had made him special. He was the first ever akuma, and even in the movie he'd shot with the class, he was the monster, not Mylene's charming love interest. That wasn't to say he didn't have a presence, but people often considered it to be a bad one.

Even though his statement had been casual, Wayzz seemed to think about it like it was serious. Ivan leaned back on the bed, his hands on the mattress to support himself as he waited for an answer.

"...One thing about heroes," Wayzz began, "is that they're not always who you expect. I've had many turtles in my lifetime, and not all of them seemed fit for the role. They all got chosen for different reasons, because turtles aren't decided by their personality alone. There are always different things that have to be taken into consideration."

Ivan tilted his head to the side. "Really?"

Wayzz nodded. "Your impressive bulk wouldn't be as useful if the rest of your teammates were built in the same way. There have been small turtles who were fit for the job because of who they were fighting and the teammates they were meant to protect." Looking up at Ivan, he then added, "You do well at protecting others, and your features balance out the team."

Ivan understood, even though it was hard to imagine "other turtles" beyond Carapace, and the mental image made him unable to help asking, "What about the other one?"

Of course, he could've had no idea that Wayzz had another turtle that he had no knowledge of, but Wayzz was aware of it, so he focused on Carapace.

"The turtle then - really, all of the temporary heroes - were chosen for being at the right place at the right time. They did their job well enough, but it was a matter of convenience. They fit their miraculouses enough to do their job, and being chosen afterward was for their experience. They were never intended to be permanent."

"Oh." That made sense, Ivan supposed. It was like their costumes Marinette had made for the band's audition as Kitty Section; they'd served their purpose at the time of making an impression, but they'd never been meant for them to be their permanent ones, especially considering the time crunch.

"Are you happy?" Wayzz asked suddenly, like something had just occurred to him.

Ivan blinked, not understanding.

"With being a hero," Wayzz clarified. He flew off of Ivan's shoulder, descending upon the little box of tea that he always seemed so fond of. He ran his paw along the surface, not doing anything in particular, but seeming to reminisce. "We want our holders to be happy with themselves. We know it's not always fair to suddenly give someone a miraculous."

Ivan didn't have to think about it too hard. While it could be a little disappointing whenever he had to run off on Mylene or his other friends, he also knew that he was doing good work and was helping keep Paris safe.

"Yeah, I'm happy," he replied. Then, after a moment of thought, he asked in return, "What about you?"

Wayzz seemed surprised to be asked such a question. He looked down at the little tea box again, resting both paws on it, then smiled faintly. "I am. You're not like any of my other holders, but that's not a bad thing."

Ivan smiled back, then focused on the little box of tea that Wayzz was still hovering over. Ivan pushed himself off the bed, then hunched over, pointing to the box in question. "Do you want some?"

Wayzz looked up at him, then back down at the box. Ivan had been taught enough about tea - thanks to Wayzz himself - to know how to make it for him, so it wasn't an unusual thing for him to ask, but Wayzz had never actually used the tea in that particular box before.

"Oh," Wayzz finally said after a moment. "...Yes, I—I think I do." He glanced up at Ivan again, asking, "Would you like to join me?"

Ivan frowned in thought, almost feeling like he was intruding on something personal. He'd never had tea with Wayzz before. "Uh, okay, but I don't know how I'd want it."

"That's alright!" Wayzz said, perking up as he flew up to Ivan's face. "We can experiment with similar tea first. There are many different ways to flavor it, and with the right combination, I'm sure we can figure out what you like; sugar, honey, milk, there are a lot of options. You know, one of my previous holders—"

Wayzz floated happily towards the door, continuing to ramble, and Ivan smiled genuinely while carefully picking up the box of tea. He remembered how sad Wayzz used to be when they first met, but even though Wayzz still grew quiet at times, he was happy now.

They both were.

[folkloreguk]

Paris (optional bias)

A/N: This is just something short I’ve had in my drafts for so long and I’ve finally finished it...there’s not much storyline but I swear it’s really sweet and I hope you like it x

genre: photographer!bias, suggestive themes, some kissing and cuddling, just two people on holiday and deeply in love tbh (pls send me some tissues)

words: 1.4 k

“Stay still baby,” he demanded, but not in a rough tone. It was gentle, a little sleepy. You chuckled, hearing the familiar click.

“You look so gorgeous in this light,” he mumbled, his face hidden behind his camera. The curtains of the hotel room were pulled away slightly, so the golden evening light could enter. You were going to get up, but now you fell back into bed, giving in to your boyfriend. Your hair was messy, your makeup even messier. Your clothes were everywhere but on your body.

For a moment you gazed at your boyfriend as he tried to photograph you from the perfect angle. He’d always preferred watching the world through a lens rather than just his eyes. Until you had come along. In you, he had found a new challenge. Oh, how many times you had heard him complain about how he couldn’t seem to capture your beauty in a photo. As if you were some part of nature that simply was too beautiful to fit into a picture. He had compared you to the night sky, a roaring waterfall, the light of the setting sun and fireworks – all his favourite things, basically. Although you didn’t agree. When it was hard to see your beauty in the mirror, one look at the collection of photos on your wall sufficed. Seeing yourself through his eyes made you feel like you were enough. More than enough, in fact. You understood a little better what he saw in you, and slowly you had also started seeing the good, beautiful things in yourself.

It had been a year since he had asked you to be his girlfriend. For your anniversary, you had booked a trip – your first holiday together, in fact. Now it was just the two of you, together, in a strange city. Without a care in the world. That’s what you had agreed on.

You spent your time in bed, exploring the streets where even tourists weren’t found, trying all of the local food and then spending more time in bed. As always, your boyfriend couldn’t put his camera down. Not even in his holidays. But you didn’t mind because you knew it made him happy. And when he was happy, so were you.

His hair was probably even messier than yours, but it made you smile to know you had made it that way. He grinned, watching you through his lens.

“Can I please go to the bathroom now?” you asked, stretching on top of the blankets.

“If you come back quickly,” he answered, and you laughed.

“Don’t worry,” you joked. Your legs were a little weak as you got up. You could still feel where he had touched you, making your cheeks heat up.

When you entered the bedroom again, he had taken your spot on the bed. The last sun rays were now catching in his sparkling eyes, tangling in his hair and dunking his skin in a golden, glowing light. His bare chest was rising and falling steadily and he had draped the sheets over his lower body lazily. He looked at you as if you were the rarest sight in the world, some mythical creature only the luckiest got the chance to encounter once in a lifetime and like you held all the answers to the universe all at once. An overwhelming feeling of love overcame you at the sight of him.

As soon as your leg touched the bed, he opened his arms for you. Smiling, you clung to him as he stroked your hair and kissed your forehead. Even though you were thousands of miles away, you had never felt more at home than in that moment. Your safe place was wherever he was.

Softly, his hands wandered across your skin, drawing random patterns. Sometimes he touched you as if you were artwork at a museum. Too fragile and too precious, maybe even forbidden to lay his hands on. Other times, he dug his fingers deeply into your skin and pulled you flush against his hot body, trapping you under his weight and making it hard for you to breathe with his feverish kisses. His light chuckle rang ever so delightfully in your ears as he noticed the dark hickeys on your chest. His personal masterpiece, only for you to see. If he was the artist, you were his muse and his canvas. The touch tickled you a little. When he traced the dark shapes on your skin you shivered, and when his fingertips came close to your nipples your heart skipped a beat or two. Softly, you swatted his hand away.

“Still haven’t had enough?” you asked.

“I’ll never get enough of you,” he said. You didn’t blame him. If anything, you had never related more. You had just closed your eyes, trying to listen to the way his heart was beating underneath your head, when he rolled over on top of you. When you looked up at him, he had already lowered his head to kiss you. Without your control, your lips curled into a smile. Compared to earlier, when his kisses had been so full of passion and need, they now felt soft, like candy cotton clouds on your skin. Your lips moved slow enough for you to consciously notice every little sensation. The way his hair tickled your forehead, his nose brushing against yours, and his hand intertwining with yours next to your head. Deeply, you breathed in, only to sigh because his scent overtook all your senses with a rush you thought one could only receive from consuming drugs.

His bare chest against yours was warm and your legs tangled with the blankets by your feet. Through the gap in the window you heard the lively song of birds and chatter of both other tourists and residents in the city. Physically, they were just outside, a few levels lower, on the street. But your head was miles away from it all. It was all heart eyes and lips practically quivering with the need to let him know how much you loved him. He beat you to it.

“I’m in love with you,” he whispered. “So much. All of you.”

He peppered kisses on your neck and squeezed your hands in his. How come your heart could never get used to these words? Why did it have to jump the way it did, every single time? Not once had you been able to stop the big smile on your face upon hearing the confession – not that you tried hard, because why should you have – and each time you had to regain your composition for a few seconds, until you could return those words.

“So am I,” you said. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Yesterday you said the ice cream shop downtown was the best thing that’s ever happened to you,” he teased, a smile evident in his voice.

“That was an exaggeration, obviously,” you said. “If you hadn’t been there with me, it would have only been a fifth as delicious.”

“Thank god,” he said, exaggerating. “I almost thought I had lost against some chocolate ice cream there.”

“Come here, silly,” you said. He raised his head from your neck and grinned. Sometimes you were nearly convinced he could have cured any problem with his handsome smile. But the look he was giving you was reserved only for you. It was saying words without having to speak and held countless memories from the past.

“You’re my favourite person in the whole universe,” you said. “And yes, I do know that none of the aliens out there could possibly be better than you. But I do hope we go back to that ice cream shop tonight.”

His eyes had gone from loving to amused and back to loving. Gently, his lips met yours again. The kiss only lasted for a short while, but it said enough.

“We can go back there,” he said. “Do you wanna go for dinner now? Down by the river?”

“Let’s stay like this, just five minutes longer, alright?” you asked. You weren’t quite ready to lose his warmth on your skin and to leave this little, perfect world inside the hotel room just yet. In fact, if it was possible, you’d drag out the moment forever. And he seemed to agree. He hummed and nodded quietly. The next time his lips met yours, you didn’t let him pull away so fast. Five minutes, half an hour, an hour, what even was time when you were with him?  

[lizbotw]

Bakugou, Todoroki, and Kirishima Discovering Their S/O’s Last Partner Abused Them

Anonymous said:

hiii! could you write headcanons for bakugou, todoroki, and kirishima on how they would react to discovering their s/o’s last partner abused them, if you’re not comfortable it’s totally fine though!

hello! i hope these are fine and i hope i portrayed everything properly. if not, someone please let me know. i wasn’t that sure about posting these so please read at your own discretion! also, if you or anyone you know is stuck in an abusive situation, please reach out to someone :( these ended up pretty long once again, so there are some scenario-like sections in a few parts. please let me know what you think and i hope you like them!!! ♡

warning: mentions of/references to abuse and abusive relationships (if it helps, i didn’t explicitly describe/go into detail about what happened? it’s more so alluded to and there’s a heavy focus on the comfort aspect)

Bakugou Katsuki

He started to notice that something was wrong whenever you would flinch when he raised his voice. He didn’t mean to yell at you and most of the time it was just him talking at his normal, fired up volume. He didn’t like fighting with you, just playful banter in his own intense way, so it was even weirder that you were reacting like that.

But even if he was just ranting to you about his day, getting a little too into the story and his voice getting a little louder, he seemed to be constantly making you anxious, as though you were waiting for him to break bad news to you or something.

It was confusing and it frustrated Katsuki, always one to want to be in the know and be in charge of situations, but he wasn’t sure how to approach it. His usual blunt and gruff manner of demanding you tell him what was wrong would most likely only serve to worsen the situation exponentially, so he was sort of stuck.

After a while of going back and forth with himself, he came to the conclusion that he needed to change into the more caring boyfriend you deserved—soft spoken and sensitive to your emotions.

Although you had known what you had been getting into with his blatantly brash personality, he figured that actually dating him now and seeing it up close constantly were simply too much, and he really liked you so a bit of compromise here and there wouldn’t hurt.

But when he consciously lowered his voice, there seemed quite a few possibilities of what would happen.

You would likely seemingly relax and listen to his soothing tone at first, something he enjoyed because of the soft smile that would paint your features, but then it seemed as though you would snap back to reality, remembering that this was Bakugou Katsuki—resident hothead—who was suddenly using his “inside voice” unprompted, and would give him a suspicious look, as though you thought he was planning to reveal this had all been the cover up for some sort of trick.

You always seemed to catch yourself when you did that though and would look embarrassed, turning away and excusing yourself, as though hoping he hadn’t noticed your shift in emotion—which he thought was fucking stupid because of course he’s going to notice if something is up (he was always watching for little details when it came to you, admiring the tiny things that made you up because he was head over heels in love).

(Truth be told, you had had one too many startling surprises in your last relationship where you thought things were going good and finally getting back to normal, until you realized it had all been a trick—a sinister grin coating the face of your ex being all the confirmation you needed to realize how naive you had been. They always seemed to love watching your face crumble in mortified realization.)

(Every time you thought about that now around Katsuki, you always felt so guilty even associating him with something so horrible that you always had to step away and take a moment to breathe and re-organize your thoughts.)

(Under your breath, you always mumbled a quiet ‘sorry’ as you walked away, even though you knew he couldn’t hear you. It made you feel better—someone like him didn’t deserve to be remembered alongside something so horrible.)

Eventually, Katuski had enough. He had no idea what to do at this point. Perhaps you really didn’t like being around him all that much?

Your contact prior to dating had been frequent since you two were good friends, but it had been fairly controlled and in minimal amounts compared to the long hours you frequently spent stuck to each other’s sides now. Maybe he was better off just being your friend.

You seemed to think that his rough exterior could be funny at times, especially because you liked to poke fun at him a lot, and found it overall charming how it roped back into his determined mindset.

Funny—that’s what it was. You could joke around playfully with him easily, but it seemed that when it came to a stable, (hopefully) long-term relationship, that sort of thing just wouldn’t cut it. The relationship was fairly new but he was already totally flubbing it. He couldn’t keep acting like your “friend” anymore, he was supposed to be your boyfriend, so he had to up the romantic act if he really wanted to make that clear.

But then you didn’t seem to be at ease if he tried being a lot more gentle though, so what should he do?

There wasn’t much else remaining as an option but to ask you directly what you wanted from him.

He didn’t want to make you unhappy, but if it was true that you two weren’t compatible in that way well… maybe he would have to… lose this one. And he never lost.

It was his attitude of striving for perfection and for a winning outcome in this relationship that he set aside his fear of the unknown and instead put you first.

A quiet evening front of the T.V.—you staying over at his house for an impromptu movie night—had the scene perfectly set for him asking you once and for all what was wrong.

He’d made a pact with himself—if you seemed even the slightest bit unsure, he’d… maybe have to let you go. But only for your own sake. He knew it was very likely he just wasn’t made for love, versus everyone else he knew that seemed very in-tune with both theirs and others emotions.

A commercial break had him drawing in a deep breath, your head shifting comfortably against his chest as he breathed in and you closed your eyes briefly as you felt the comforting rise and fall—only to snap your eyes back open within seconds once you heard his next words. That breath hadn’t been one of quiet comfort on a romantic evening, it had been him inhaling all of the courage in the room that he could before he asked you the question that had been burning in his chest for so long—“What’s wrong?”

It came out as more like a whisper than he would have liked and he almost wished it had been drowned out by the generic ad that was currently flashing across the screen, but of course with his luck it hadn’t. At least it was out in the air now, waiting for you to strike it down from the sky and puncture it with your answer.

A few beats of silence passed and he wasn’t sure if you were going to answer—wondering if you had even heard it—but truthfully you were trying to figure out if you had heard him correctly. You decided to play it safe. “What do you mean?”

Katuski wasn’t sure what else you wanted him to say—he’d done his best, you knew he wasn’t good with this sort of thing. “Don’t play dumb, babe, you know what I’m talking about.”

Unfortunately, his voice was louder this time, mostly from his irritation at not knowing what to do to get you to tell him. But then you were slinking away from the arm he had wrapped around you, breath caught in your throat. “Kat…”

“Wait, fuck, stop, fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap like that.” The words tumbled out of his mouth and he was quick to gather you back up in his arms, turning to face you on the couch. “I’m just… I’m just worried about you, baby. Is it something I’m doing? I know I’m not always the perfect boyfriend so… if you want to break up…” You had to rush to stop him from finishing, the mere thought of that tugging at your heartstrings.

And so it was there, on that same couch you had spent so many afternoons together as friends falling in love with each other, that you tearfully told him about your last relationship—a shameful past you wished to completely forget, erase, pretend didn’t exist. But Katsuki coaxed it out of you gently, the light murmur of the T.V. with it’s volume low in the background (you had asked him not to turn it completely off, afraid of what the deafening silence would bring forth in you) and you felt so, so good despite the tears dripping down your face. So fucking happy to finally get it out. And when you had finally said your piece, he was on you in seconds, warm arms encasing you and your face firmly pressed into his t-shirt, the fabric already quickly dampening from your crying, and that felt like home.

As Katuski comforted you, he was internally fuming with anger—he was careful not to let it show and accidentally end up stressing you out further, but once his reassurances of how he would never, in a million years, ever want to hurt you seemed to ease you back down to Earth—you even managing to crack a smile that made his heart do somersaults—he was already composing a plan to track down the idiot that had hurt you.

He would be extra clingy in the coming days, which was saying a lot for your boyfriend who normally liked to grumble about how stop, you’re bothering him, no hugs right now while simultaneously pulling you closer to him every single time.

If it was someone he knew, next time he saw them he wouldn’t hesitate to pull them aside and unleash a slew of threats that were definitely not empty in meaning. He had a reputation and he knew how to use it, sadistic satisfaction creeping across his face in the form of a smirk as he watched the other person cower, withering under his intense gaze.

He restrained himself and didn’t resort to violence, as much as he would have liked, knowing that you would be more upset with him if you found out he had punched your ex’s lights out and risked getting in trouble just because of you.

You always encouraged him to be a better person and rise above letting others get to him, so it was only because you were such a nice person that the person who had hurt you was able to get away with all of their teeth still in tact after facing your explosive boyfriend—and Katsuki made sure to tell them you were the reason too. Making sure to let them know that they had lost the best person in the world and even in spite of all they had put you through you more forgiving than you ever should have been.

And if it wasn’t someone he already knew? Well, it wouldn’t be long until the two got acquainted. Katsuki was smart enough to figure out who exactly it was using his grapevine of connections and it wasn’t long until he was pulling aside the person for a little talk that went similar to the one he would give if he already knew them.

Whoever hurts you would never be allowed back in your life as long as he has a say in the matter, and while sometimes you may be more forgiving towards most people than he is (it’s really not that hard to surpass him in this aspect), he makes sure to put down his foot when it comes to even giving your ex an ounce of kindness that would let them think that everything is fine now, the past is forgotten, and that they were justified in their action. Yeah, no fucking way did they deserve closure.

Katsuki is usually stubborn, but he bends easily when it comes to you—even if it comes with a bit of complaining once in a while—although this matter? Just let him have his way with this. He’s just trying to protect you, even if he knows you can handle yourself well. That’s just the way it is between you two. You give each other the space to do whatever the other wants, but at the same time, if either of you sees the other person going astray and about to make a terrible decision, a little reality check is well deserved.

Any guilt or doubt you may feel accompanied by worrying if you were too harsh to your ex when you ended on bad terms would be immediately stomped out by Katsuki followed by his attempts at motivational words (paired with a string of curses every so often) and a (huge) sprinkle of slandering your ex’s name. The whole thing was pretty endearing, especially because you could tell he was really trying, plus his insults about anyone who ever hurt you (not just your ex) were always funny to listen to.

He looked cute when he was mad, you had to admit, and with your mood greatly improved, you really have no choice but to give your boyfriend a kiss, both to shut him up and as a thank you. The short press of your lips against his would have him leaning in for more before you could even fully pull away. You never knew how long you spent in each other’s arms like that, your heart soaring higher every moment with amazement that this was finally your life, but you did know that you gave Katuski countless kisses within that time frame—each one yet another silent thank you for being your rock through thick and thin, cheesiness be damned.

Todoroki Shouto

Shouto knew he was reserved at times—never wanting to burden you with his troubles or have you worry alongside him about some trivial thing he suddenly decided had some semblance of importance. But he was trying, okay? He knew you knew that.

If anything, he confided in you the most out of anyone else in his life. His hidden thoughts about certain subjects were easily spilled when you two were alone and talking, the words flooding out of his mouth and crashing in waves over the remains of the crumbled walls you had broken down in him. His insignificant worries became easy to discuss with you and you always smoothed over his fears—in fact it usually hurt more not to tell you things now than it did to just keep it all bottled up.

Displays of affection increased in boldness as his comfort grew with you—no longer silently wondering to himself if you thought his professions of love were too much, or if you were simply being nice to him when you returned his spontaneous kisses.

He felt a sense of security with you that had warmth coiling around his heart with every smile you gave him, a new feeling that both left him pondering the implications late into the night while simultaneously lulling him to sleep with the comfort it brought. It was confusing and he absolutely loved it.

Once he got over his initial reservations about entering a relationship, Shouto was able to see you for what you really were—someone who genuinely loved him. There was no doubt about it and he felt silly for ever questioning your bond at the start and thinking you would ever want to leave him for someone better any time soon.

As he shared more with you, slowly letting himself be consumed by your presence, your unwavering support became more and more apparent.

He was someone you trusted even before you officially started dating, sure (you two had had your fair share of late night over sharing more times than he’d like to admit), but this was different. Relationships could make or break anything. He had seen it himself with his parents after all.

It was terrifying at first, like falling in an endless black hole, but once he let himself relax—really lean into the fall—he came to appreciate the weightlessness, the wind carding through his hair.

Something still felt off though. Not necessarily wrong per say—nothing was ever wrong when you were around as far as he was concerned.

Shouto doesn’t know exactly when it was that he noticed it—it may have been when you dodged a question about what you did over the weekend, or maybe when you didn’t offer details about your own thoughts on a particular hero rescue mission video you two had seen online, or maybe it was the way you seemed painfully conscious of watching how much you revealed about your plans for the future. Or maybe it was a combination of all of those things.

Whatever it was, it was obvious you were hiding parts of yourself, almost as if you didn’t want to get too attached to him—that couldn’t be right, could it?

You really did seem to like him and he didn’t think he had misjudged your affection, but the more Shouto thought about it the more he realized how little he truly knew about you. It was as if you were prepared to disappear from his life at the drop of a hat. What was going on?

Once it became apparent to him, he began to notice it more and more, doubt creeping up in his mind with each and every incident. How had he never noticed this before? Perhaps it was because you revealed enough that he never questioned it—most surface level things seemed fair game, more or less, but it was the deeper things you seemed hesitant to share. The things in your life you held near and dear to your heart were always hidden under convoluted answers that blanketed the fact that everything you were saying was intentionally vague.

He had to get to the bottom of this and soon, otherwise he was sure he would combust from the overthinking.

Shouto was fairly straightforward and blunt at times, so he asked you point blank one night as you two sat out on his porch swing one night, facing his backyard with a giant blanket draped over both of you as you curled your legs up on the swing under it and leaned back on the array of fluffy pillows lining the back of the swing. The night was clear and the stars glimmered in the sky, which was the whole reason you two had planned this little “date” anyway—to do a bit of casual stargazing while relaxing together and enjoying each other’s presence.

Shouto couldn’t seem to completely relax though. There was something that kept tugging at his mind.

“You didn’t answer the question.” The biting statement had come out soft because he didn’t mean to sound like he was outright accusing you of anything, but you seemed to tense up all the same, turning to look at him bewildered.

‘Is it really that big a deal?’ he wondered. You seemed apprehensive at him “catching you,” as though being forced to reveal the information to him would have some sort of terrible consequence.

“W-what?” You blinked at him and he turned to fully face you, rather than glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.

“I asked if you ended up going to the arcade or amusement park last weekend. I remember you told me that none of your friends could agree on which one to choose,” he said simply, eyebrows furrowing in confusion now—for some reason, he didn’t think it would go like this. You were reacting differently from how he thought you would, seeming more paranoid and anxious than ever. It made him worried. He genuinely wanted to know the answer as well. He had been contemplating an amusement park date, having heard his fair share of others gushing about sharing a romantic Ferris wheel ride at the end of the day, and he’d like to know if you enjoyed the experience if you did go, if you’d like to go with him if you didn’t end up going with your friends, or if he shouldn’t take you there at all because you’d already went and didn’t want to go back again.

“Um…” You looked away from him and back up at the stars illuminating the sky—your eyes swiped over them as you tried to count a few and calm the racing in your heart. “We, uh… we didn’t end up going to either of them. I just went over to one of their houses for a pizza night with two of the others. Not that many people, don’t worry.” That last detail of not interacting with a ton of people seemed important to include for you, but Shouto was simply puzzled by the way you spoke it—as though you were trying to convince him you hadn’t done anything wrong, rather than just mentioning as a causal detail. The emphasize on it had him wracking his brain, trying to decipher what cryptic meaning there was behind your words.

“Oh… but I saw you with a wristband when you came back. I just didn’t get to see if it said it was from the arcade or from the amusement park.”

It wasn’t like he was trying to set a trap for you—he had just simply remembered at that moment the purple band wrapped snugly around your wrist when you came back from your hang out session—the telltale sign of an admission bracelet to some sort of event. You were allowed to have fun of course—hell, he didn’t care, he wasn’t much of one to try and stop you from doing what you wanted anyway. He was just curious. To you though, the words took on a completely different meaning as you searched for the underlying truth of what he was really thinking and you felt cornered and small with the presentation of this new information. It was suffocating. What would he do now that he knew you lied?

“Ah… yeah, I forgot about that… must’ve slipped my mind…” You couldn’t bring yourself to say much more, not sure what else you would say anyway.

You glanced back at him and could see that he was still watching you. You looked away quickly, heart beating fast.

You heard him breath out through his nose and you could tell he was thinking. “It’s okay. You didn’t have to tell me. I was just wondering,” he spoke quietly and you instantly felt bad for hurting him like that and making him think you didn’t want to talk to him.

“Shouto, I-” You let the words die on your tongue, not knowing where you were going with them anyway.

“(Y/N)…  you know, truthfully, I’ve been noticing it a lot.” You were looking at him fully now while his gaze was focused downwards, playing with the soft fabric of the blanket that was keeping you two warm. “You don’t have to tell me things if you don’t want to. It just feels like there’s a lot you’re not telling me. I just wanted to ask why. At first I thought it was just once or twice it happened, but now I see there’s a lot of little details I don’t know about you.” He was back to staring at you now, blanket still clenched between his hands as his fingers continuously soothed over the fabric. “Is there anything I can do better? I don’t know if you feel comfortable around me… but I feel comfortable around you if that helps…”

It was as though you were in a trance as you listened to him speak, hanging onto each and every word, and you bit your tongue lightly to break you out of your speechlessness and shake yourself back to reality.

You sighed and shifted uncomfortably in your seat, running your finger along the seam of one of the pillows you were leaning back against. “I, uh… just have a hard time trusting people… I don’t know…”

Shouto took your hesitation as a sign that he was digging into something much deeper than he originally thought and he decided he shouldn’t force it—if it really was something deeper than a surface level bump in a relationship that could be solved relatively quickly, then he would give you the time to tell him on your own.

He felt like such a jerk for how he brought it up—it seemed that this was tied to a deep issue and a sensitive topic for you and he had just brought it up like it was nothing. What kind of boyfriend was this obvious to your struggles?

He released his grip on the blanket and looked back at the stars, choosing instead now to fidget with his hair, running his fingers through it twice before realizing he should probably stop doing that. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but… I’d like to be someone you could trust.” He planned to leave it at that, aside from apologizing later again and showering you with affection, hoping you could forgive his embarrassing moment of pure insensitively and selfishness. His plans of how to smooth over the tension hanging thick in the air were put on hold though when he heard you speak again.

“No… you know what? You deserve to know. I’m sorry for all of this. I do trust you. I don’t know what got into me. If anything, I trust you the most to tell about this. I don’t know why I didn’t do it sooner.” Your bitter laugh at the end surprised him and he met your eyes. With you both looking at each other, you felt emboldened and ready to make the truth known.

You reached over to lace his fingers with yours and he let you, automatically moving so he could sit closer to you. “(Y/N)?”

“Shouto…” And with that you revealed the true reason you had always been so careful with your words around him, the source of your guardedness, and the experience that left your heart wounded—your last relationship.

Shouto, already having berated himself before for approaching the situation so brashly, knew to stay quiet now and let you speak, only reacting with twists of his face in shock, horror, or disgust because he was appalled that anyone would ever treat you like that. He could feel his blood boiling.

At last you were done—your hands staying intertwined and resting on the blanket between you two the whole time—and just in time too, because he couldn’t take any more of hearing the heart-wrenching things you had been through. And yet here you were, still standing strong after having experienced it. Meanwhile, just the words and the way the vivid descriptions came to life in his mind were enough to make him reel, thoughts flashing back to his own childhood.

As you had spoken, you two had somehow shifted closer together, the proximity comforting you as you told the story. Now Shouto closed the distance to reach over and pull you firmly into his arms, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You could feel the soft brush of his lips there and his warm breath as he held you close, causing you to shiver involuntarily. You blinked for a second, shocked at his sudden display of affection, before tightly wrapping your arms around him as well. The tears you had been holding in the whole time and masking under your wavering words full with emotion all flowed out now, the dam broken and nothing holding you back from sobbing against his shoulder.

Shouto was apologizing for how harsh he had been with you before and you could tell he really meant it—it sounded like he was mentally beating himself up over the whole thing and he was. He felt even more stupid now. Something this serious and he had never pick up on it? He really felt like the worst and vowed to always protect you. His own childhood trauma had left him with no one to console him and he refused for the same to happen to you. Neither of you were sure which one of you started it, but there was a constant back and forth of “I love you”s professed as you sat there, tangling in each other’s arms. That little reminder meant everything to you.

Now that Shouto knew why you seemed to have difficulty telling him things, he knew not to try to pry information out of you, but rather let you know you had his constant trust and support, hoping that you would slowly come of your shell yourself—and you did, feeling as though you were able to be more open with him now. His reassurances that he would never try to control you in any way set your mind at ease and with each day that passed you felt lighter and more carefree, no longer cherry picking at your speed and wondering what you should say.

It took a bit for you to break out of the habit that you had so carefully accumulated and improved to protect yourself, but Shouto was patient and willing to help, and you found yourself falling in love with him all over again.

Shouto is someone with a lot of power, influence, and money at his disposal, all thanks to his father—as much as he hated to admit it (although he would say that it came in handy at times like this). He would never outright tell you that he now had a personal bone to pick with your ex but… let’s just say you won’t have to worry about accidentally running into them ever again.

It’s likely you may not even notice the change, having already cut that person completely out of your life and being used to avoiding them like the plague or flat out ignoring them.

Although if you did notice them appearing less in your life, you may mention it offhandedly to him, maybe even questioning him if he knew anything about it.

He would answer cryptically, either saying ��Huh, that is strange,” or “Don’t worry about it,” if you were eyeing him suspiciously, taking a sip from the cup of tea he had been nursing in order to hide the small, knowing smile that he couldn’t keep off of his face.

Kirishima Eijirou

Eijirou had always been a touchy guy, and you knew this, yet it still didn’t make it any easier to completely relax when you were snuggled against his chest, or when he would drape an arm around you without warning.

During the dates you had gone on before officially entering a relationship, he was always careful with his touches, but still made mild gestures—asking if he could hold your hand, or sometimes resting his hand on the small of your back when leading you out of a restaurant. You liked that—his touches were sincere and made you feel wanted again. He really was perfect.

A gentleman at heart it seemed, Eijirou was always respectful, yet those baby steps towards increased physical contact still set your heart aflame, no matter how hard you tried to stomp the fire out and remind yourself to be careful, heart beating fast because what did you do to deserve something so wonderful (it was the type of adoration that seemed to continuously bloom, beginning from the very first time you met him).

It took a while before he worked up the courage to ask you to put a label on whatever it was that you two had. He had sensed your cautiousness from the start when you two went on your first date—although he didn’t know the true reason behind why you were so closed off to love—and he had kept that initial impression of you in mind the entire time.

Usually he was one for breaking down barriers, pushing past the tough exteriors of others, and he did the same to you, but he also knew the guarded feeling you carried seemed different and he didn’t want to pry, so he was careful in his approaches.

Those slow steps that you loved so much from the start (the small touches and the gradual opening up to each other), truly resulted because 1.) he really was a gentleman (you were correct in that assumption), but 2.) unbeknownst to you, his mind was always working around you and when he picked up on your initial coldness (you may try to hide it, but he knows how to read people well), he made sure to be extra careful when it came to advancing things with you.

Forwardness cast aside, he took things at the pace you wanted, hesitant to ask you the burning question to make it all completely official in case that scared you off. He absolutely loved you and it would take him forever to get over it if he really did mess this up.

There was also the issue of him not wanting to wait too long and make you think he was stringing you along or wasting your time. He wanted to make his intentions clear sooner rather than later, but it always felt too soon and he was constantly trying to gauge your reactions.

Stuck in this limbo, Eijirou ended up asking you to be in a relationship before he even truly realized what he was saying.

Hanging out together on yet another fairy tale date, the thought occurred to him that with the way you two were already so close, to not be dating would be pretty weird. It was the obvious next step now more than ever.

And then the words were tumbling out of his mouth before he even realized it and you were laughing—his heart sunk for a moment at that because oh my god he’s so stupid no way you’d actually want to date him, he’d totally misread the situation, but also sent his heart fluttering because your laugh and smile and everything about you was so cute and beautiful and amazing and-).

His fears were put to rest when you leaned over to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, lacing your fingers with his where they rested on the park bench you two were currently sitting on, laughter still spilling out of you, although a bit more controlled now.

You told him that honesty? You thought you two were basically dating already and he was just the type to not say anything and just assume you knew, so you’d been going along with it this whole time.

His mouth was hanging open at first, but then a giant dopey grin crossed his face and you were wrapped up in his arms, pulled to his chest in a bear hug.

You sighed contentedly—this felt right.

Your floating on cloud nine didn’t last forever though and soon you were spiraling back down to Earth, plummeting harder towards it than you had floated up.

It seemed that now that things had been said out loud and it was confirmed that you were really together, the whole thing began to weigh a little heavily on your heart. You were still head over heels in love, and being with him was definitely what you wanted to do, but you couldn’t stop thinking about what would happen if you accidentally did something wrong and completely ruined everything, whether due to your paranoia grating on his nerves eventually (as patient as he had proven to be, you knew everyone had their limits) or because he simply got fed up with you and things turned out like last time.

You had deluded yourself into believing you were fine before, but you really knew that the only reason you allowed yourself to be so comfortable around him during those first few dates was because he hadn’t officially asked you out yet. Now that he had and this relationship was a real thing, your breath caught in your throat the more you thought about how things went the last time—it had started off just like this, perfect… maybe even too perfect.

Eijirou wasn’t like that, you knew it, but you kept wondering what if this is the day that the switch flips?

Stuck in your own mind over the issue and reluctant to talk it out left you jumpy around your new boyfriend—fuck, you hated it, but you couldn’t stop your body from reacting before you mind could soothe it with rational thoughts that he was one of the most caring people, if not the most caring person, you have ever met.

He, of course, took the whole thing wonderfully like the perfect person he is, even if he didn’t know the real reason why you suddenly seemed so opposed to physical contact, just causing you to feel worse because how could you keep making him think that this was his fault.

Hugs, hand holding, and cuddling on the couch still seemed among his favorite things. You liked them too—the security and warmth was addicting—but what had been normal during the pre-dating phase, now became a sore spot for you.

You had felt butterflies at this touches before (now you wondered if perhaps the reason that you were able to lean easily into those touches were because you could just imagine he was one of your friends—a hot friend with soft lips who you kind of, sort of wanted to spend forever with—rather than some guy that held your heart in his hands), but now your mind was kicked into overdrive each and every time.

There were times where he would immediately pull away if you seemed overly stiff and unsure, apologizing profusely. You didn’t know how to explain that it wasn’t him that was the problem—you wanted to be in his arms, protected and warm, you were just having a hard time adjusting to the intense love he always provided.

He was always so attentive, noticing if you had a distant look in your eye, asking you what was on your mind. You felt bad, absolutely horrible. Why were you always so tense around him? You had taken time to heal on your own, waiting a while before getting back into the dating scene. You knew what you needed, you knew how much time you needed, and you most of all knew that you didn’t need some big strong guy to save you from your thoughts. You just needed him to understand that. You thought you could forget the past, bury it—you were independent and didn’t need the support.

You briefly wondered for a while if perhaps you weren’t as ready for a relationship right now as you thought—maybe you need more time?

But then that idea was immediately squashed—no, you would not let what happened to you rule your life any longer. You deserved to have someone as great as Eijirou, and he deserved someone as amazing as you, and most of all, you really, really liked him. And it was because of the reasons you liked him—his caring attitude, his innate understanding, his watchful eyes that were always soft with emotion—that you decided to take the leap and just outright tell him everything.

A quiet evening of domesticity felt like the right time—a relaxed mood set as you two winded down from the day at his house. You were seated across the kitchen table from one another with him typing on his laptop and occasionally pausing to scroll or contemplate something (he would interlace his fingers, elbows propped up on the table and hands resting against his lips with a small frown before his eyes suddenly lit up with an answer to whatever question had been plaguing his mind). You, on the other hand, you very much attempting to write in your notebook, but so far all you had accomplished was to mark the edges of the pages with senseless scribbles, not even able to bring yourself to properly doodle little stars or hearts like you usually would.

You flicked your pen between your fingers, either quietly tapping it against the blank page in front of you (you wanted to tap it against the table to hear the satisfying thumping of the wood, but you didn’t want to disturb Eijirou) or against your cheek. You could feel his eyes on you every so often when he would very briefly glance up. He probably thought you were deep in concentration because he never said anything about your troubled look, although it seemed like he wanted to. Ah, damn, you really did love him—why was he always so caring, even if it came in little gestures like this? You hid a smile to yourself as you thought about how at times he could seem conflicted between always checking up on you but also loving to watch you work. Cute.

Truth be told, you were deep in concentration, but it wasn’t about what he thought it was. Rather, your initial concentration had been broken so many times by your incessant thoughts that you finally decided to give them the attention they had been demanding. There was no way you could work like this, as told by the tug on your heartstrings. There was really only one thing to do at a time like this and you just knew it was the right time. It’s now or never.

You chewed on the tip of the pen cap for a second in quiet contemplation, before steeling yourself and speaking. “Hey, um… can I talk to you about something?” You didn’t tear your gaze away from the page in front of you—eyes tracing the lines of scribbles as though they would give you courage—until you had finished your sentence. The words rang in your ears as they pierced the comfortable silence that had only been broken by small noises of shuffling before. As the last syllable slipped out, you looked up, watching to see what he would do.

Eijirou snapped his head up to you with wide eyes and blinked. “Of course, babe, what’s up?” He shoved his laptop to the side, but then after a quick moment seemed to decide that wasn’t enough and pushed the top down for good measure to make sure you knew you one hundred percent had his attention.

His immediate reaction to your words was both because he had heard the ting of worrying in your voice—your tone serious—and also because he always hung onto your every word anyway, always listening carefully to what you had to say. His attention was always yours.

You glanced away from his intense gaze and hummed in thought, twirling your pen around. You motioned for him to come sit next to you, which he did without hesitation, rounding the table and pulling out the chair next to you with a quiet squeak against the floor. While he did that, you pushed out your chair a bit also so you could comfortably turn to face him at your side.

As he sat down, he dragged his chair closer to yours until they were almost touching, and then when you pulled your legs up and angled yourself so you could sit crossed legged on your chair, he did the same, taking your cue—he was watching your moves so carefully, wondering what was wrong, that he mimicked the action barely thinking. Your knees rubbed together and you cracked a smile at that—one he mirrored—but then your solemn expression returned.

A deep breath and you let the pen slip from between your fingers, roll out of your hand, and land back on your still open and still embarrassingly blank notebook. Then, you turned to look Eijirou in the eye, determined not to back down now, and gave him another small grin to set his nerves at ease because he looked so worried (once again, cute).

“So…” And that was the shaky, uncertain word you began on before your story began to flow out of you, the words whistling past your lips with gradually increasing confidence as you went on—the way you saw it was that even if it was hard, you had gotten this far in the retelling so you might as well see it through. It took a lot of willpower, but you had set your mind to this and would not allow the past to ruin your current relationship. Eijirou was silent throughout it, although just having him there and watching his facial expressions (twisting in anger, sorrow, disbelief, and million other emotions that you didn’t know the names of but could feel deep in your heart with just one glance at him) was enough to keep you grounded and continuing to let it all out.

Despite your best efforts, tears managed to escape your eyes, increasing in ferocity the deeper you went , but you quickly wiped them away—a signal to him to just wait, give you a moment, you could handle this, even though it was very clear that he simply wanted to comfort you.

And then, as abruptly as you had started, you were done, the last tortured word coming out. “And, um, here we are I guess…,” you simply shrugged as you awkwardly tried to wrap up your monologue. “I don’t know…”

Eijirou was quiet for a moment, lips slightly parted, as though he was waiting for you to say something else and he didn’t want to accidentally interrupt you and stop the stream of raw emotions you had been so vulnerable to share and entrust with him—he wanted to know everything about what had been torturing this whole time so you would no longer have to step on eggshells around him. When you breathed out a deep sigh of relief, chest suddenly feeling airy and light, your head clear, only then did he accept that you were done and ready for his reaction.

He almost reached out immediately to pull you to his chest, but stopped himself quickly before his arms could even shoot out. You could see how his hand had twitched from where it lay in his lap—it was about to reach out, but he had stopped it almost right away, and it was clear that he really wanted to wrap you in a hug right now. As much as he wanted that though, he also knew that he didn’t want to suddenly grab you after you had just opened up to him and relived that horrible experience in your mind.

Memories of when he had so casually pulled you to his chest before without knowing what was wrong filled his head and he felt so guilty. How could he never have noticed this before? Would you even want his comfort right now?

You found his current display of just wanting to be supportive endearing though and gave him a slight nod to signal that it was okay. That was all the confirmation he needed before he had you pressed against him, arms tight as they looped around your back and warmth radiating from his chest. You took a breath in and could smell the soft, comforting scent that he always seemed to carry. Just being held like this as he rubbed soothing circles on your back with his thumb seemed to open the floodgates and soon you were openly sobbing, embarrassed because he had never seen you like this before, but also feeling encouraged to finally let everything out as he coaxed the tears out of you with quiet murmurs of “It’s okay, babe,” and “I’ve got you, baby.”

Not long later, after you guys had both calmed down—you from the overwhelming emotions that had taken over you, and him from his anger at your ex and his heart-aching feelings at thinking about what you had been through—you two were cuddled up in his bed.

Eijirou had made you a hot cup of tea and after you had chosen to burrow under the blankets, he followed suit as you asked him to join you (he was still being cautious about not doing anything you didn’t want).

You two discussed your relationship and what the new information you had shared meant for you both. Assurances of how much you loved each other were sprinkled throughout the conversation and Eijirou said he would ease up on the spontaneous touches for a little bit until you felt more comfortable (they still weren’t completely gone though because you loved them—it’s just that he now knew to be a little more cautious about that sort of thing), and you made sure to let him know that all those times you had tensed up before hadn’t been because of him but rather because of your memories. He knew what to look out for now and as observant he was about you, you knew that he would even pick up small cues of discomfort, although you could already feel yourself slowly letting go of your tension.

Now that you had explained everything and that weight was off of your chest, you felt so much better. Plus, hearing him directly assure you that he would never dare to hurt you like that gave you a feeling of relief and greater trust in him. Just something about you being open about the whole thing made you feel that things could finally be normal now.

Your suspicions were right, things were a lot better after that, and Eijirou could tell that you saw physical touches as a sign of comfort now, rather than something you had an internal struggle with, and through slow steps again like you had taken at the start, you were able to get to a place where you no longer felt apprehensive about the topic.

Eijirou would be your protective safety blanket whenever you needed it, although he also knew you were strong-willed and didn’t always need his help either, so he was content staying on the sidelines if you really seemed like you could work through something on your own, although he was always ready to comfort you if need be.

The tipping point when it was really confirmed that Eijirou would protect you no matter what it was when you two ran into your ex at a convenience store one day.

Eijirou was browsing the snack aisles not that far from you while you were looking over the sweets they had lining the counter near the door. You could still see each other over the top of the mini-aisles since the shelves were short, and Eijirou was talking to you about all the snacks he was contemplating on getting, asking your opinion as you occasionally replied to his chatter over your shoulder, piling the things you wanted into your arms as he no doubt did the same.

You were about to call back out to him and turned to look over your shoulder, stepping towards his direction automatically, having found one of his favorite flavors of a certain sweet you two always ate, when you noticed someone standing behind you, probably looking at the shelves for things they wanted as well since the place was pretty small and everything was cramped together.

“Oh, ah, sorry…” You awkwardly turned back to what you were doing, tucking the package of what you were going to show Eijirou under your arm to bring to him later, and shifting away so that the other person would have more room to continue shopping, feeling a little embarrassed. You hadn’t noticed their presence before because you had been so busy eyeing all of the delicious goods right in front of you.

“Hm? Oh, that’s alright,” they replied nonchalantly and you just nodded silently and gave them a small smile and a sideways glance in response.

You froze when you saw that they were looking back at you intensely and recognition flooded your senses. You knew that voice sounded familiar, plus when you had glanced at them before when you first bumped into them something seemed to ring a bell but you had simply brushed it off.

While you were filled with instant dread at realizing who it was, the other person, now able to see your face clearly, seemed to light up with delight at seeing that it was really you—as if they had just run into an old friend. “(Y/N)! Woah, is that you? Long time no see!” What was your ex doing here? What were the chances? It just seemed like the universe cursed you with bad luck.

You could vaguely make out Eijirou’s voice under the ringing in your ears as you took a step back, away from your ex—which they just seemed to take as cue to turn more fully towards you, both of you now facing each other.

Eijirou seemed to have noticed you not replying and came over to you, arms piled high with bags of chips and other packages of both of your favorite snacks. “What’s wrong, babe? Ooo, what’s that you’re holding, it looks g-” He paused, having followed your gaze to see you staring at another person, and finally noticing the newcomer just as they went on talking about how great it was to see you. Eijirou took this as a cue that you knew this person. “Who’s this? One of your friends?” he asked with a grin, looking back at you.

You ignored his question, unable to think, and shakily greeted the mysterious person back. Eijirou could tell something was wrong, but he didn’t know what. But then you said the name of the other person in your greeting and something clicked in his mind—that was the name of your ex. How could he have forgotten? The memory of when you had told him all of the horrible things they had done to you was now at the forefront of his mind and he swiftly moved in front of you, gripping his snacks closely to his chest to prevent them from toppling out of his arms at the sudden movement. His warm expression had melted into one of distaste, glaring at the person in front of both of you, blocking them off from your path.

Eijirou tried to get your ex to leave peacefully with thinly veiled threats, making it know he knew exactly who they were and what they had done to you, but your ex fought back, saying that they were simply talking to you and refusing to go just yet. You were cowering behind Eijirou, still shell shocked, and tugging on his arm lightly, trying to get him to just forget about it and leave with you, not feeling up to deal with conflict of any sort right now, especially any involving your ex of all people.

“Who the hell are you anyway?” your ex bit out, fire in their eyes.

“Me? You mean the boyfriend who’s about to beat a nobody like you’s ass?” You could see how Eijirou’s fists clenched as he said that, packaging crinkling under his fingers.

Your ex scoffed and peered around Eijirou to look directly at you. “Boyfriend, huh? Can’t believe you managed to snag someone else.”

You had to grab Eijirou to hold him back after he heard that comment, trying to juggle your mountain of snacks in one arm while firmly gripping onto him with your free hand.

The look in your eyes when he glanced over at you in confusion and the way you refused to let him go made it clear that you didn’t want him to get in trouble just for you.

That didn’t stop him from slandering the other person with a healthy dose of threats though and despite your ex’s stubbornness, Eijirou finally managed to get them off your back. You two quickly paid for everything you had already picked up and left the store not long after. Eijirou would make sure to shoot your ex one final warning glare if they were still in the store or if he saw them right outside.

Expect him to check up on you after the incident as soon as you’re far away enough from the store, offering to carry all of the bags for you and do whatever you needed him to do. “Are you okay, babe?” he would ask and would keep assuring you that he loved you and would never let that person near you ever again until he was sure that you had calmed down. He had seen the panic-stricken expression on your face back there and never wanted to witness it ever again. A kiss on the temple would be his way of sealing the deal and his promises to keep you safe.

Following that day, if you still had any previous reservations about your boyfriend’s loyalty, they all dissipated after seeing how fired up and serious Eijirou had become when it came to protecting you. He would give you all the comfort you needed after the run-in if you were still shaken up and would be very clingy and attentive. He would give you space if you asked, but would be at your beck and call for a while, wanting to ease the pain of the traumatic experience.

“Don’t worry, babe. I’ve got you and I’ll never let you go,” he would mumble into the top of your shoulder as he held you close, hands on your sides and thumbs slowly soothing the skin there with small strokes. And you completely believed him with all of your heart, and your trust was the best thing he could ever ask for and receive from you.

[neonacity]

HYACINTHE | CHAPTER 3: JAEMIN X READER

SUMMARY:

Na Jaemin is far from being your typical 20 year old. Instead of slaving through college, he wastes away his hours cracking safes. Weekends that should be spent partying with friends consist of illegal races on good days and small scale bombings on bad ones. Na Jaemin is far from being average, unless you consider being a member of Seoul’s top organized crime family normal.

There is no such thing as a sense of normality and peace in his trainwreck of a life, so when he met a barista who was brave enough to call out his dangerous taste in coffee, he was like a moth to the flame. Everything about her is normal, which means she is forbidden to him, in all sense of the word. So why, then, does he always find himself at the front steps of her shop, breaking all his personal rules even if he wishes he could stay away?

A/N + Disclaimer: this is a side story to Black Daisies, my main mafia fic feat. 0T23. While the plot is based on the main story, this can also be read as a standalone fic. As usual, this is purely a work of fiction and in no way am I implying any member of NCT to behave the way I write them here. tw: crimes, heists, potential death, mentions of drugs and other illegal activities.

PAIRING: Jaemin x Reader

TW: illegal activities, gunshot wound, mentions of blood

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

FIC TRAILER

MASTERLIST

"Another bank was looted last night around 11PM, this time in the Geumchon district. This is the second bank that was broken into in the past week and the fourth that is rumored to be the doing of one of Seoul's organized criminal…."

I sighed and put down the pen that I have been using to scribble on a piece of napkin. A frown creased my forehead before I grabbed the offending piece of flimsy paper and crumpled it with my hand. Jeno, who was silently watching the news, looked up and shot me a curious look. He was leaning over the counter lazily, his cup of half finished hot cocoa beside him. 

"You okay?"

I winced. "Yeah... Actually. Actually, no. I am not okay," I said finally as I threw the used napkin to the closest thrash. I have been scribbling all the things I have to pay for the coming month there and couldn't bear to take another look at it. Jeno grabbed his drink and silently took a sip of it, obviously waiting for me to elaborate.

After my initial 'unplanned' meeting with Jaemin's friends, it has become more or less of their routine to drop by the cafe to hangout. Jaemin was initially against it at first, always scowling whenever he would see one of them already in the shop, though it seems like he has gotten used to it lately—or rather, he didn't have any other choice but to simply accept it. They would often sometimes come in groups—Jisung and Chenle are big fans of the pastries—but other times it's just one of them who would drop by to visit like Jeno now. My favorite is when all of them drops by to visit, not only because I've started getting closer to them too, but because customers would automatically flock into the shop whenever the "handsome gang" is there. Honestly, I couldn't blame them.

"I'm a little bit short on money this month. I was supposed to get my monthly allowance from my scholarship but something happened so it will be delayed. I have lab things to buy and well—everything sucks." 

Jeno nodded slowly, though I have a feeling he doesn't really understand my plight with money. Spending time with the seven of them has given me a better understanding of each boys' personalities. Jeno, for example, is definitely the calmer one of the bunch. While the others would cause chaos every now and then—Jaemin included, he would be on the side watching them usually with that adorable eye smile of his. He is different from Mark who would mostly jump in to join the fun before calming everyone once things get overboard, though both seem to share the same responsibility over the group. He also seems to be the closest to Jaemin, so by extension, I am also most comfortable around him. 

"How much money do you need?" 

I gave him a look as I reached out for a paper cup to make myself my own hot cocoa. 

"I heard the same question from your best friend before. Are you also going to offer to be my sugar daddy?" 

Jeno choked on his drink and hid his laughter behind his raised cup. 

"Do you want Jaemin to kill me?" 

That made me inappropriately blush.

"Sometimes I just want to bust out a bank like that group everyone is talking about." 

Jeno didn't say anything and continued watching me from the brim of his drink. 

"You think you can do it?" 

"Do what?" I asked as I poured hot cocoa on my cup. I said that off-handedly, I almost forgot my words the moment they left my lips. 

"Rob a bank. You know, do something illegal." 

I leaned back against the counter and craned my head a little sideways as I thought the question over. I didn't actually think of that before so I had to listen to my moral compass a little bit before answering. 

"It depends on the reason." 

Jeno looked surprised by my reply. He was probably expecting a goody two shoes answer from me, which I don’t blame him for, to be honest. Even I am mildly shocked by what I said. 

"The reason?" 

"Yes. I mean, if the only reason I would steal is because I don't have money to support my studies, then no, I wouldn't do it. I have other options. I can work extra jobs or I can just drop out from uni. But if I didn't really have any other choice, if I had to do it for someone really close to me, for example, then I would do it." 

"That is very…"

"Cliche, right? I know. But that's how it works, at least for me," I said with a laugh. "I do know what's good and bad, but I'm willing to jump the gun if I have to." 

I didn't know if it was my imagination, but I thought I heard Jeno murmur something under his breath as I turned to get back to work. 

"I bet Jaemin wouldn't like that." 

-----

PRESENT DAY, a little over one month after the happenings in the first chapter. 

They disappeared like bubbles. No, he disappeared in thin air, like smoke that was blown over by a strong gust of wind. After that night when Jaemin bust through my cafe door, hiding god knows what and asking for temporary shelter, he hasn't shown himself again, apparently leaving while I slipped into a light sleep. Even his friends stopped visiting the cafe which, for a few days, made me genuinely feel scared. Are they okay? What happened to him? Who was he running away from?

That worry slowly and gradually morphed into anger as the days lengthened. I know it was my way of coping with my emotions, but I couldn't help myself. I tried calling him, but the line was cut. It even came to the point that I had to call each of his friends, but it seems like the numbers they gave me were all temporary ones, too. I felt frustrated. I felt...abandoned. 

Was it really easy for him to just cut off all contact with me? 

Was it foolish of me to think that there is...something deeper here than just friendship?

It was the start of winter when the loud ringing of my phone woke me up from my nap. Eyes still heavy with sleep, my first instinct was to look at the clock by my table which registered 1:19AM. I frowned. I was in the middle of finishing a paper before I decided to take a nap but who could be calling me at such an ungodly hour? 

I blearily reached out for my phone and barely looked at the unregistered number before hitting the answer button. 

"Hello?" 

"Noona?"

I froze. Just like that, I felt the sleepiness slowly melt away from my consciousness. I know that voice. 

"Jisung?" 

"Noona, we need your help." 

I sat up on my seat after registering the panic in his voice. I heard another tone suddenly hiss at him from the background before a rustling sound overtook the speakers. It sounded like someone grabbed the phone from his grasp before he could even react.

"Jisung. What's happening—"

"Hello?" The new voice that spoke on the other line made my heart stop. I stared at my wall, wide-eyed.

"Jaemin." 

"I'm sorry. We didn't mean to—"

"Jaemin, we don’t really have any other choice but her, give me the phone," another one jumped in. It was Mark. 

"No. Hyung—"

"We're losing him," my lips parted in shock at what I heard. His voice sounded clearer now and I could very much pick up the iciness on it. Mark has always been so friendly and warm that it threw me off guard. 

"Give me the phone." 

The authority he held made me assume that Jaemin did as he was told. Next thing I know, he was calling out my name from the speaker.

"Mark, yes, I'm listening." 

"Hey. I'm really sorry about this, but we need your help. We really have no other choice, Haechan is in such a bad state—"

That made me stand up and push away from my desk.

"What the hell is going on? What do you mean about Haechan?"

"I'll explain later. We're on our way to you now."

"Wait, what? You don't know my address."

"We'll be there in seven minutes."

That was all he said before he cut off the call, leaving me standing shell-shocked in the middle of my room.

---

They banged on my door not even five minutes after. I had barely pulled on a cardigan when loud knocks rang through my small one bedroom unit causing me to quickly run and grab my knob open. 

I stood frozen at the sight of the seven boys crowding my doorway. Everyone was covered in some sort of soot, leaving them almost unrecognizable in their black outfits. Mark and Jeno were in the middle of the group, carrying a half-conscious Haechan between them. Jisung, Chenle, and Renjun brought the rear, their eyes moving wildly as if checking for eavesdroppers. Jaemin stood closest to me, his jaw tense and his eyes apologetic. My gaze snapped back to the center of the group when Mark called out my name. 

That's when I saw it for the first time. I didn't notice it at first because of its dark color, but Jeno was holding a towel against Haechan's stomach. Except it isn't black, it was a deep dark red.

Blood. 

"Oh my god." 

"Please help us." 

Maybe it was the shock, but I quickly stepped aside to let everyone in. I had barely slammed the door shut when I heard a crashing sound from my small dining area. Jeno pushed everything on top of my table to the ground as Mark and Jaemin gently guided Haechan on it. 

"What—what is going on—"

"He's been shot. Thrice. We're not sure but I think two of the bullets are still there," Renjun answered me as he grabbed the soaked towel from Mark's hand and replaced it with a new one. Jisung and Chenle worked on closing all the shutters of my windows while Jaemin tore off a lamp from my living room to move it close to Haechan. He closed all other lights other than the ones on the dining area and the small lamp.

It was then when my training finally kicked in. I ran towards the table to peer at the wound, my shaking hands gently moving the new towel that is quickly getting soaked by blood again. Haechan gave a soft grunt of pain before slipping to unconsciousness again. 

"I think there are still foreign objects there. It's what causing the severe bleeding."

"Can you take it out?"

My eyes shot to Jeno. The harsh lights from the lamp threw strong shadows on his stressed features. 

"I'm not a licensed doctor."

"We don't need a licensed doctor right now, we need someone who can patch the hole in his stomach. Please." 

I gritted my teeth. I have a ton of questions running through my head right now, but he's right. We need to act fast or else we will lose him. I rolled up my sleeves then and called out to whoever can act fast to my orders. 

"Somebody get the black box under my bed. I have all my surgery practice tools there. I need hot water and lots of towels. Everyone move. Now."

As soon as I said my orders, each of the boys were moving in a flurry to get everything that I asked for. I was adjusting the small lamp directly over the wound to peer at it better when I felt a gentle hand circle around my arm. I looked up to see Jaemin staring at me. 

"Thank you." 

I didn't say anything at first. I don't know if it was the shadows playing over his features, but he looked different from the Jaemin I knew in that brief moment.

"Don't thank me yet. Say that once we're sure he survives."

---

I was stirred from my sleep by the light snoring of someone to my right. Turning my head, I was greeted by the sight of Jisung who was currently sprawled on my sofa, his legs so long that they were dangling on one end. Chenle was on the floor below him, his face covered by one of the pillows he probably fished from one of my love seats cradling Renjun's curled up form. Mark and Jeno were both sitting upright, the former close to Haechan and the other by the door like a sentinel. They seemed to be in deep sleep too, they're heads hanging low. Jaemin was on the floor next to my seat, his breathing slow and relaxed. 

I blinked slowly as my gaze moved from boy to boy. It took me a painful two hours to do the impromptu surgery, first working on taking the bullets out before sewing everything back together. Haechan was lucky enough that the bullets didn't hit any vital organs or important vessels, and that the extreme bleeding was only caused by the wrong muscle being hit by the impact. He slipped from being conscious to unconscious throughout, and everyone had to work together to help me while I did my thing. 

I couldn’t really blame any of them from crashing the moment we made sure that Haechan’s safe—for now. 

After rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I tried to silently move from where I was curled on, careful not to stir anyone. I still have a ton of questions, but those can be taken care of later. I padded as carefully as I could towards the table where Haechan was still resting and peered at the IV that I had hooked on his arm to make sure everything was moving well. 

They even have spare blood bags with them for emergency transfusions. 

...As if this kind of thing normally happens.

"He's going to be okay, right?" 

I hastily turned to see Jaemin staring at me. His voice was low and was only loud enough for me to hear. 

I stared at him for a bit before looking away. 

"Yes. He'll survive."

"Thank you so much." 

I didn't answer. He also didn't say anything else, though I could still feel his gaze heavily on me. I braced myself before speaking again.

"We need to talk." 

I didn't wait for him to reply. I simply walked towards my room, leaving my door open for him to follow. I only turned back to look at him when I finally heard it close softly behind him.

"Who are you?" I asked, before he could even say anything else. I watched as his jaw tightened and released, his eyes full of indecisiveness. I didn't waver. Not this time. 

"You said…"

"That I will never ask questions? I did. But I can't do it anymore, Jaemin. You disappeared for a month without even saying goodbye then showed up on my door with your friends, one of them with a hole in their stomach. You have blood bags—freaking blood bags. What the hell is going on?" 

I tried my hardest to control my voice, not wanting any part of this conversation to be heard outside. My legs felt weak at the moment but I tried my best to continue standing so I could hold his gaze. 

The look in Jaemin's eyes, however, almost made me want to give up. I knew from the pain and hesitation there that I wouldn't like whatever it is he is about to say.

"I'm a criminal."

My stomach dropped. 

I was expecting it, but hearing it straight from him didn't soften the impact and the shock. 

"A…" 

"We steal. We do illegal things. There is absolutely no good way for me to describe this, but yes, I am a runaway who was stupid enough to bring you into this mess," Jaemin said through gritted teeth as he tore his eyes away from me. He ran a hand through his hair and tried to take a deep breath to steady himself.

"I was stupid and I'm sorry. I shouldn't have gone back and tried to befriend you after that order of coffee. I'm sorry I ran to you that night a month ago. I seriously thought I was going to die and I wanted you to be the one that I see for the last time. I'm sorry for today, or that I couldn't answer any of your questions back then. It was selfish of me to keep you in my life without giving you anything back," he stopped and forced himself to look at me again. My heart squeezed painfully in my chest when our gazes met. 

"I'm sorry." 

I didn't… couldn't say anything. One part of me had already expected this because it is the only reason that makes sense. Those vague answers, his detachment from normal society, the money, every clue seems to point to one direction, but that didn't spare me from my moral dilemma now. Because while I knew, I didn't exactly consider how it relates to me.

I was afraid to.

Because the truth is, I like Na Jaemin to the extent that I'm afraid of what I can do for him.

"Do you kill…" I asked in a whisper, my voice shaky. A frown passed his already stressed features before he answered.

"No. None of us do," he answered, and I knew then that he was telling the truth. Regardless of what he is or what he didn't tell me, I trust him to not lie to me.

"Am I—am I in danger?" I asked next. He firmly shook his head.

"No. I made sure of that. No one would dare—" he stopped, as if gauging what words he can use to not scare me even more. "You have always been under protection." 

That’s when it clicked. The cafe visits from his friends. The random strangers who seem to spring out from nowhere every time I was out and about and needed sudden help. 

My legs finally gave way and I collapsed on my bed behind me. My mind was trying its best to wrap around the situation, leaving my thoughts in a jumble. There are a million things I wanted to say, but I couldn’t get a single one out at the moment. 

Jaemin seemed to know what I was feeling at the very least because he simply stood there, silently watching me. I'm not sure how long the two of us stayed in that bubble of silence, but it was also him who brought me back to reality when I felt warmth cover my hands.

I looked up to see him kneeling in front of me, both his hands gently enveloping my clasped ones. The look in his eyes made my heart lurch, but I couldn't bring myself to say anything still. 

"I'm sorry if I was selfish… I promise, after this, you won't have to worry about anything else."

No. 

"When I met you, I saw something that's so different from the life that I have. Believe me, I tried my best to leave you alone, but I wanted more of it—more of —you, so I kept coming back." 

Are you going to leave me again?

"But you'll be safe now. I promise. You can go back to how it used to be before I… almost ruined it." 

Please don't leave me. 

Jaemin gave my hands one last squeeze and I felt him move to straighten himself. Before he let them go, however, another gentle warmth pressed against my forehead as he grazed it with his lips. 

"Thank you."

My tears dropped the same time the doors closed behind him. 

---

Chapter 4

[quicksilverownsmysoul]

13 Going on 30 pt. 3

A Peter Maximoff x reader fanfic based off the movie 13 going on 30

Summary:  You are so excited when the most popular girl in your school agrees to come to your 13th birthday party. But after a cruel prank you find yourself wishing that you were popular and older. By some miracle your wish is granted but isn’t as wonderful as it seems. You turn out to be a major jerk and you don't even talk to your best friend Peter anymore. Can you fix everything and get back to normal or are you stuck living like this forever

Warnings: Angst, Some suggestive content, But it’s mostly pure fluff. (Also Peter has no powers in this fic, and some scenes will be changed to fit Peter and his personality and so I can be creative with it!)

Word Count: 2103

Peter thought it was safe to say that adult life sucked. And it wasn't just because he had run out of lucky charms this morning and had to settle for something called shredded wheat that was hidden away in the back of the panty. They were gross and tasted like cardboard, but Peter was all out of groceries so this would have to do.

 No nothing had seemed to go right for him after high school, he went to college, (even though he spent most of the time partying and goofing off), got the degree and yet he was barely scraping by. But he couldn't complain, all that much at least. He enjoyed his job and even if at times it was hard to earn money he wouldn't trade it for the world. He had fallen in love with photography in freshman year and decided to major in it. He had a minor in business too, something you had always told him would be useful as a backup. You were always practical like that, making sure he never completely fell over the edge. But he was hesitant to use it, because in using that minor it kinda meant he was giving up his dream. Giving in to the regular, soul crossing 9 to 5 job that everyone seemed to have. Peter was a dreamer at heart, in a way it would kill him to do anything other than photography.

He ate a spoonful of his cereal, making a face at the dull taste. Chewing, he glanced over at the stack of bills littering the counter. A lot of them were piling up, sooner or later he may have to give into the normalcy of a business job. Work had been slow lately and very boring. More often than not people hired him to take photos for their weddings or graduation, simple stuff. Stuff that had him bored out of his mind. But there were no clients currently so until he got one he had all the time in the world to himself. Which he loved at first but now it seems he was falling into a bit of a routine.

Peter aimlessly wandered around the kitchen lost in thought, his eyes drifted toward the collection of pictures pinned to his fridge. There was a picture of you on there, from before you had cut him out of your life. Peter set the bowl down on the counter and gently lifted the magnet to pull the picture off. It was a polaroid of you two, You had your arms wrapped around Peter’s shoulders, hugging him from behind. His hands were resting on yours, you both were smiling, teeth missing.

This picture was from the first day of first grade. Even back then Peter had had some feelings for you. And the way his eyes looked at you and not the camera was proof of this. Peter ran his thumb gently over the faded picture, for a moment he let himself wonder about how you were doing, before he snapped himself out of it. He put the picture back in its place and picked his bowl back up. It was too early to be having thoughts like that. 

Peter yawned and lazily plopped down on his worn out sofa, flipping through the channels on the tv. There was nothing on, signing he threw out the rest of his cereal, it had gotten soggy while he was busy reminiscing. He dropped the empty bowl into the sink, only adding to the collection of unwashed dishes. He glanced over at the phone and the soft blinking of the red light, indicating he had voicemails he hadn't listened to yet. He knew he was going to have to take her calls sooner or later but right now he didn't want to deal with her. 

He headed to the park and decided to do some laps on the path, running always helped him to relax and clear his head. He always got stares and shy smiles from the women that were jogging, he found out that apparently the silver hair that everyone made fun of him for was very attractive to women now. Something he used to use to his advantage to pick up the occasional hook up.

After that he went to go get groceries and then played on his pacman machine until lunchtime. He totally knew how to spend his time. He made his way over to the kitchen and looked at all the new groceries he had bought. Twinkies, instant ramen, mac and cheese, he picked up the box of lucky charms, weighing the option of eating it for lunch. He thought better of it and put it back on the shelf, he really needed to eat healthier, god knows sooner or later his metabolism was going to give out.

He picked up the phone and placed an order form the Chinese place a couple blocks away, ordering way more food than he needed. That way he wouldn't have to cook for the next few meals. Peter was inherently lazy and cooking was not something he was very good at. So when he would he just ordered takeout and leftovers so he could eat them later. He hung up the phone and walked over to the fridge and took out the milk, drinking it straight for the carton, while he was doing that he heard a loud knock on the door. “That was quick.” The knocking continued non stop over and over, “I’m coming hold on!” He yelled out as he shuffled to the door and opened it peering through the opening that the chain allowed. “You know it’s rude to-'' The words died in his throat. There was a woman standing at his door, wearing a coat over her night dress. 

*******************************************************

You hadn't been able to pay attention to the briefing your boss gave, your assistant came in about half way through and handed you a small slip of paper. She said that she had found Peter’s address like you had asked. You had pulled her into a hug, creating an awkward tension in the room. The meeting had seemed to go on forever, and for the life of you you couldn't even remember what it was about. As soon as the meeting ended you had bolted out the door, ignoring the calls of your boss and colleagues telling you that work wasn't over yet. 

You had found his apartment after randomly asking strangers in the street which way it was. You were at his door, the number on it hanging lopsided. You began to rapidly knock until the door was pulled open. “You know it’s rude to-” 

He paused as he saw you staring at him. He furrowed his brows in confusion. “You’re not the chinese delivery guy.” 

You felt your eyes widen as you took him in. “Peter?” You asked in a small voice. 

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously at you. “Yeah?”

 You let out a sigh of relief, smiling. “You’re tall.” You looked him up and down. “And you’re so handsome.”

His face turned red at your words. He didn't even know who this random woman was that was standing here, telling him he was handsome. He leaned against the doorframe, taking another drink out of the carton. “I’m sorry do- do I know you?” 

He watched your face fall. “You don’t know me?” 

“No?” He said, wiping the dribbling milk off his chin. Even after all these years his mannerisms were the same. 

“Wait! “ You said rushing forward. He jumped slightly at the sudden action. “It’s me, I saw you yesterday. Well I was thirteen yesterday so I guess it wasn't yesterday. Because now i'm old and I don't know where I am-” Peter watched you ramble on and slowly began to close the door. You continued on. “But you were there at my party-”

Peter paused, squinting his eyes and looking at you closely.. “(Y/n)?” He asked hesitantly, reopening the door as much as the chain would allow. “(y/n) (y/l/n)?” You smiled wide at him. 

“Yes! Yes it’s me!” 

Peter slammed the door shut in your face. You heard him unlock all the locks on his side of the door, when he was down he swung the door open. “Hey.” he gave you a small smile. You lunged at him and tackled him in a hug, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck. He just stood there frozen, slowly moving his free hand up to awkwardly pat you on the back. “Come in I guess.” He muttered. 

You pulled back smiling at him. Even after all this time your sweet smile could make his heart skip a beat. You looked around his small apartment taking it all in. Peter did his best to kick discarded clothes into the closet, and keep you from seeing what a mess it was. You looked along his walls to see framed pictures of portraits and beautiful landscapes. “Are you still taking pictures?” You asked,

“Uh yeah, they pay the bills.” He quickly grabbed the pile of unpaid bills, stuffing them behind the couch cushion. “Usually.” He muttered under his breath. You were pacing around his apartment, in confused circles. He nervously rubbed the nape of his neck. “Hey, (y/n) I don't wanna be rude but why are you here?” 

“Petey I told you.” You said moving closer to him, he let out a little laugh. 

“Petey wow, no one has called me that in ages.” 

“Petey listen I came here cause something really weird is happening. Yesterday was my 13th birthday and then today I woke up and I’m this!” You said gesturing to your body. Peter tried his best not to look you up and down, he couldn't deny that you had grown up well. You were even more beautiful than he remembered. “And you’re that!” You said gesturing towards him. 

Peter looked down at himself self consciously. “Gee thanks. Do I really look that bad?” 

“No!” You quickly said. You felt yourself blush as you looked him over. His hair was tousled and messy, he was wearing an oversized  pink floyd crop top and from the looks of the hem it seemed he had made it himself. You watched the veins in his hands ripple and his arms slightly flex. “Uh you,” You let out an embarrassed laugh. “You actually look really good, like really good.” 

Peter flushed at your words and turned away so you couldn't see his blushing face. “Wow.” He whispered under his breath, he lifted a hand up to his face, doing his best to hide the smile that was forming. He turned back to and regained a serious composure. “Are you sure you're okay (y/n).” He took in your mismatched outfit and broken heel. “Are you high? Have you been smoking pot? Doing drugs, cause if you are I’m not judging as long as it’s just weed or something. Cause I mean I get it, I get stressed to and every now and then need-”

“No, no.” You said shaking your head rapidly. “Wait do you do-,” You lowered your voice to a whisper. “Do you do drugs Peter?” 

“No! No.” Peter shrugged. “Ehhh well not drugs, just weed.” He defended. But looking at your judgmental eyes he quickly continued on. “And I don’t, well I don’t that much any more. It was in college you know how it was.” 

“Actually I don’t.” You moved even closer to him. “Look, I was sitting in my closet, and I- I skipped everything. I can’t- I can’t remember my life.” Your eyes were watery as you started back at him. His heart ached seeing you like this. You continued on. ‘You need to help me remember my life.” 

At this he scoffed, and pretended to look around as if you were referring to someone else. “Me?” he said pointing to himself, letting out an airy laugh. “That’s rich.”

“What why?” He let out another laugh at your response, this one was dry. He looked at your face and saw that you weren’t kidding, you were serious about asking for his help.

“(Y/n) I can’t.” He was in disbelief, did you seriously have no idea what you had done to him. “I don’t know anything about you. I haven't seen you since high school.” Your face morphed into one of confusion. 

“What?” 

What he said next pained him, and he couldn’t bring himself to look you in the eyes. “(Y/n). We’re not friends anymore.”

You felt your heart shatter into a million pieces. “What?”

Taglist:

@lets-imagine-fanfics @steamboat-local @weasly-twin-simp

Let me know if you want to be added!!

[darthkruge]

Poe Dameron x Reader ~ Take Mine

Summary || On your first mission as Commander of Blue Squadron, you take Poe’s X-wing. Unfortunately, it doesn’t go as planned. 

Warnings || Some injuries and a bit of blood? I didn’t go super in detail, though

Words || 2.2k

A/N || This is my first time writing for Poe and I’m so scared and I tried to be accurate and if it’s not I apologize but if I spent another minute staring at this draft I will scream. Special thanks to @poestardust and @buckysbeloved because y’all were both super fucking supportive and without that this might not have been posted! I am now officially adding Poe to the people I write for and while my requests for full fics are closed, I am more than willing to do little blurbs/hc’s or hear any and all of y’alls soft/angsty thoughts for that wonderful Flyboy. My status of requests gives more insight into all of this :)

gif credit

You groaned, shaking your head as you racked your brain for a way to get out of this. Your X-wing was supposed to be fixed a week ago, a solid few days before your mission was set to start. But, alas, Red Squadron had a bit of a rough mission coming off Hoth and needed repairs more rapidly than you, so your starfighter was put on the low priority list. 

Normally, this wouldn’t be a problem. You could be patient. Normally. But you had just been promoted to Commander of Blue Squadron and your first mission left in two standard hours. 

You walked through the door of your room, trying to find a solution but continuing to come up empty. 

“Sweetheart?” Your head perked up at Poe’s voice, the concern clear in his words. 

“What happened, why aren’t you with the rest of the Squadron getting ready?” 

“My starfighter isn’t ready.” You said, trying to make sense of the words as they came out.

Poe blinked. “Still?” 

“Yeah, the other repairs are taking longer than usual and it’s not ready and it won’t be ready and I have to lead my team on a supply drop and try to not get everyone killed and I don’t even have my kriffing X-wing!” Your voice shook, the lack of control making you anxious as you paced back and forth through your quarters. 

Poe’s hands found their way to your shoulders, steadying you. “Look at me, okay? Breathe for a second,” Poe gave you a slight smile as you nodded, closing your eyes as you took a deep breath. “Yeah, just like that. It’s gonna be just fine, we’ll figure it out!” 

Now, the panic creeped back into your expression. “How?!” 

Poe thought for a second, mentally grasping at straws before his eyes widened in realization. “Take mine!”

“What?!”

“Take my X-wing! It’s all ready to go and Black Squadron isn’t set to go on our next mission for another two weeks! You’ll be back well before then, it’ll work out just fine!” 

“But- I can’t just take your X-wing, Poe!”

“Yes you can! Come on, I don’t really see what other options you have! Just take it, please? It’ll bring you good luck.” 

You sighed, realizing he was right. “Okay, okay, fine!”

Poe smiled, leaning in to peck you on the lips. “Now, go! You don’t want to be late, do you, Commander?” 

“Oh, no, definitely not, Commander! That would set a horrible example for my team!” You quipped back before leaning in once more. “I love you.” You whispered. 

“I love you too.” He smiled back. “Seriously!” He said with a laugh, “Go!” 

“Going!” You called over your shoulder as you ran to the hanger. 

A week and two days later, that conversation was the only thing on your mind. You were desperately steering your- no, Poe’s- X-wing away from the fleet of First Order ships flying straight for your Squadron. Somehow, they’d learned of your plans for the supply drop and decided to swing by. How thoughtful of them. 

“Okay, everyone. Just hang tight, shoot if you’ve got a clear shot but no one’s trying to be a hero, alright? First priority is getting home safe.” You said through the open channel.

 You smiled as you heard your team voice their approval, ending their messages with a “Commander” here and there. Right now, all you were doing was hoping you were deserving enough of that title to get everyone back in one piece. 

Looking to make sure everyone was in line, you felt your heart drop as you counted the starfighters. Everyone was there, minus one. Where was Snap? Craning your neck, you swore as you saw him caught on the right side, boxed in by two First Order TIE fighters. 

You quickly opened a private communication channel. “Tallie?”

“Yes, Commander L/N?”

“Make sure everyone stays ahead of the TIE fighters, okay? Keep moving forward.”

“Y/N what are you talking about?”

You sighed, consciously working to keep your voice even and calm. “Snap’s stuck and I’m not leaving him. I’ll be fine, just a little bit behind you. Just… get them home.” 

“But-”

“Please.” 

You felt guilty for being short with her, but you had to do it. If you didn’t, she’d know how kriffing terrified you were. 

After waiting a moment, she sighed. “Okay. Be safe, Commander.”

“Same to you.” You replied, shutting off the channel. You forced the tears back in your eyes and refused to let your thoughts dwell any more on your Squadron or that beautiful, dark haired pilot you knew was waiting for you. 

You turned Poe’s X-wing and sent a prayer to the Maker as you made a bee-line for one of the two TIE fighters and fired, shooting one directly. You laughed, almost giddy at how spot-on the hit was. 

“Commander?” Snap’s voice filtered through the communication system. 

“Hang on, I’ve almost got it.” You bit your lip in concentration as you aimed for the second fighter. But right as you pressed fire, so did they. Your eyes widened as you quickly swerved. Luckily, the blast didn’t hit the front of the starfighter, or else you’d be good as dead right now. Unluckily, you gasped in horror as your ship began plummeting, realizing they had hit your engine. 

You turned your head back, praying that this wasn’t in vain. You let out a breath, realizing Snap was now free and the other TIE was demolished, thanks to your aim. If you’re going to go down, at least you brought two First Order fighters with you. 

As your X-wing came closer and closer to the ground, you screwed your eyes shut. Against your will, you remembered that at least your last conversation with him had been a good one. Your heart broke, realizing he’d probably find a way to blame himself for this, forever. That you’d never get married, never have the chance to settle down after the war ends. That you’d never again feel his lips against yours, never again experience the warmth of his arms or the comfort of his embrace. How could life work like this, how could it simply-

Your thoughts were cut off as your starfighter crashed to the ground, leaving you in darkness. 

-------

“What do you mean, their starfighter went down?!”

Leia sighed, subtly but firmly gesturing for everyone else to clear the briefing room. “Blue Squadron’s supply run didn’t go as planned. There were first order TIE fighters waiting for them. I’m not sure of the specifics, just that Commander L/N’s X-wing’s communication systems went out. Snap said Y/N went down saving him and when he rushed back to their crashed X-wing, they were breathing, but unconscious and bleeding.” 

Her eyes softened as she saw Poe’s heartbroken expression. “I’m sorry, Poe. I know you must be feeling helpless right now. But there is no reason to assume the worst, at least not yet.”

Poe swallowed hard, the tears making his throat heavy. “I’m-” His voice broke, the pain evident. “I’m gonna go wait at the hangar bay. They’ll make it home.” 

Leia just nodded, not having the heart to tell him to try to prepare himself for the worst. 

-------

When you woke up, you were in Snap’s X-wing, leaning against the wall in the small space. You groaned when you moved your hand to your head. Yup, you were definitely bleeding. 

“Where are we?” You croaked out. 

Snap’s head shot over to you. “Oh thank the Maker, you’re awake! We’re almost back at the base. Just sit still, okay?”

You nodded, already feeling a bit groggy.

“Y/N?!” 

You gave an annoyed hum in response.

“Come on, Y/N, don’t fall asleep. Hold on a little longer.” 

You nodded, fighting against every instinct you had to stay conscious. 

“Kriff, okay. Talk to me, okay?”

“About what?” Your mouth felt like sandpaper and your head was heavy. Even as you leaned it against the wall, you felt dizzy, like you’d tip over at any second. 

“Dameron. Tell me about Dameron, okay?”

Your lips unconsciously curled into a soft smile. And then your eyes shot open as you tried to physically shake the dizziness from your body. “The X-wing!”

“What?!”

“My, no, his X-wing! Poe’s, his- he’s gonna be so upset, kriff!” 

“What are you going on about?”

“Poe, he let me use his X-wing and it kriffing crashed and-” You trailed off, running a hand through your hair and wincing as the movement aggravated your injured head. 

“Y/N, calm down, okay? He’ll be fine, he’s not gonna care.”

You nodded, eyes filling with guilty tears as Snap finally pulled up to the Resistance Base. Home. As the X-wing opened, Snap helped haul you up as Poe sprinted over to you. 

“Y/N!” He called, hands coming to hold either side of your face. He quickly put one of your arms around his shoulders as his wound around your waist, holding your weight against him.

“I’m sorry, I’m so-” You hiccupped, tears leaking from your eyes. 

“Hey, it’s okay, it’s alright. Let’s just get you back to our room, yeah?” 

You shook your head, placing a hand on his chest to stop him. He looked into your eyes and his concern compounded, no idea why you were so distraught. 

“I crashed your X-wing.” You said, head hung in shame. 

Poe was now just as confused as he was concerned. “I… I know, sweetheart. But you’re safe now, I’ve got you. Just a little more walking and then I can clean you up.” 

“No! I, you don’t understand! Poe, it’s not just scratched up, it’s ruined. We had to leave it, it’s gone and it’s my fault and I’m so, so sorry.”

He just shook his head, still shocked that you thought he was upset about that. “Y/N, I know. But I’m not worried about that, I’m worried about you. Now would you please let me get you back to our room?” 

You nodded but he didn’t miss how the guilt refused to leave your gaze. When you finally got inside, he led you over to the bed and got you to sit down. 

“I’m fine, seriously.” 

Poe quirked his eyebrow. “You’re bleeding from the head.” 

He walked quickly into the refresher, coming back with the medkit you’ve used on him millions of times before. As he worked on disinfecting the cut on your head, you bunched your fingers in the bedsheets, distracting yourself from the pain of the gash. Noticing, he muttered a quick apology, taking a break to stroke his thumb across your cheekbone. Finally, he finished stitching the cut and gently placed a bandage over the area, smoothing out the edges. 

When he looked up, he saw you lost in your own mind. “Come on, baby, talk to me.” 

“You just… you loved that ship and you trusted me with it and you’d had it for so long and I can’t believe I wrecked it.” 

Poe sighed, wishing there was something he could do to convince you that everything was alright. 

“Sweetheart, it’s a kriffing X-wing. Why are you so worked up about it?” His voice was soft and free of judgment. 

“I just feel like I let you down.” 

“Hey,” He said, taking your hands in his. “You did nothing of the sort. I promise, I’m not upset, okay? I’m just glad you made it home to me.” 

You looked up at him. “I’ll always come home to you.” 

You scooted over and gestured to the bed, a silent invitation. Poe smiled at you and took a second to take off his boots and jacket before climbing in beside you. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders, careful not to hit your head while doing so. You leaned into him, your face resting comfortably in the crook of his neck as you breathed in his scent. He pulled back for a second, just to grab the covers and move them so they were all around you and up to your chin, just as you liked. 

Under the blankets, you moved your hand so it was resting on his heart. You liked doing so, feeling the steady beating of it after a long mission. Poe was used to it by now and simply placed one of his hands atop yours, his thumb rubbing up and down. 

“And you know it’s not your fault, right?” He said, breaking the silence 

“Poe, I was literally the one that crashed it.” You reasoned, lifting your head up to look at him. 

“They shot you down as you took out two TIE fighters! No one could have gotten out of that.” 

“But you had so many memories attached to that X-wing-”

“-And we’ll make new ones.” He finished. 

You sighed and nodded, a slow smile creeping onto your face that let Poe know that you at least somewhat believed his words. Inwardly, he cheered, quite proud of himself for getting through to you. Outwardly, he just tucked you further into his embrace and relished in the feeling of you safe, home, and in his arms.

----

tagging people on my permanent taglist + peoples who wanted a tag/might be interested? if i wrongly guessed you’d be interested please feel free to ignore sfklsj!!

@saltybreaddream @buckysbeloved @lolquarth @sodaoverstars @artiza-n @poestardust @beskar-tano @starwarsflowers @sunsetkenobi @90steaology @marvelinsanity @dracowars @collywobbl @dameronology​ @marvel-ousnesss​

also: i added poe to my taglist and if you would like to be added to those tags, the link to join my taglist is in my pinned! if you’ve already joined my taglist, you can just fill it out again in full or just check poe’s name and either way i’ll know because the last question on the form lets me know if you’re new to the taglist or simply editing your previous answer :)

also i sent this fic to the queue because i have never been more scared to post something

[devildom-tyrant]

Hi, sorry to bother you if you've done this already, but I've read your drabble where MC is comforted after a nightmare by the brothers (Mammon, Beel, and Satan) and it just makes me so soft I love it so much I keep rereading it. So I was wondering if you could do another with Asmo and Levi (and possibly Lucifer)? Obviously no pressure or anything, I'm a writer myself and understand that inspiration can be fleeting at times. Anyways, thank you, have a nice day/night!! 💖

You wake up yet again, jolting from your rest with your heart pounding in your throat.  It takes you several panicked breaths to realize that you’re in your room, safe in your bed, and it was just another nightmare that jarred you from your slumber.  

The details are foggy, but you can still remember the laughter, and the feeling of someone hating you with every fiber of their being to the point that they wanted you dead, that they were thrilled that you were dying.

Your bed sheets are a tangled mess around your legs, and you hastily kick them off, sitting upright and rubbing the sleep from your eyes with one hand, while you blindly reach for your D.D.D. with the other.  The screen lights up, showing that it’s past 3AM, and you fight back a groan.  You’re exhausted, but you know you won’t be able to go back to sleep like this.  And if you show up to class half-asleep again, everyone’s just going to worry about you.

You switch on your bedside lamp and weigh your options, your gaze riveted to your D.D.D.  

Lucifer

Automatically, you scroll to Lucifer’s name.  At this hour, he’s likely to be asleep, though you know that his work usually keeps him up rather late.  If you texted him, he would likely be worried... After all, you rarely reach out to him for help, not wanting to burden him when he has enough on his plate with Diavolo.  

Several minutes pass with your screen pulled up to your text messages with Lucifer, before you finally suck in a deep breath and hastily type out: “Are you awake?”  Before your mind talks you out of it, you hit Send and then immediately panic.  You really don’t want to tell Lucifer about the nature of the nightmares, nor do you want to admit to them in the first place and skew his view of you.  

An R for Read pops up next to the text, followed by three dots to indicate his typing, and you mentally flip your shit.

“I am now.  Why are you awake?”

Shit, did you wake him up?  You chew on your bottom lip, and carefully type out your response.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.  I was just having trouble sleeping and wondered if you might be up, that’s all.”

You follow that text with a sticker that’s sweat-dropping and smiling apologetically to keep it light-hearted.  Lucifer texts back immediately:

“Oh?”

“Come to my room then.”

You hesitate at that, your heart pounding in your chest.  Did he just--?  Is he asking you to--?

“We can talk or listen to one of my records if that might help you.  Or I may have some tea that could help.”

Oh.  Your panic eases a bit, and you acquiescence, typing out an All right before rising to your feet and making your way to his bedroom.  You feel as if you’re sneaking through the house, and it almost makes you feel guilty; it’s too quiet when everyone’s asleep.  However, you make it to Lucifer’s room without incident, and he opens the door before you even knock.  His expression is neutral, until he catches a glimpse of your tired, haggard appearance, which brings a light frown to his features.

“You look like hell,” he bluntly states, moving aside to let you in.

“I’m in hell,” you shoot back, to which he chuckles.

“Essentially.  But that’s never stopped you from sleeping before.”

His tone is pointed, and you feel as if he knows exactly why you can’t sleep.  He’s always been sharp, usually one step ahead -- or so it seemed until recently.  Now, you know he’s not infallible, and he doesn’t know your every move.  He’s fishing, hoping you’ll take the bait and talk to him about it.  But as much as you’d like to, you’re also stubborn -- and so very tired.  It’s a talk for another time.

“I’m sorry if I woke you up.  I thought you might be working late or something,” you admit, skirting the issue and taking a seat on the edge of his bed.  He quirks an eyebrow, but moves to sit at his desk.  

“Not this late on a school night.”

You can’t help but laugh, your thoughts a little more uncensored thanks to your lack of sleep.  “Sorry.  That sounded weird coming from you.”

“What?  It’s the truth.  Our little sleep study proved the importance of rest before classes, didn’t it?”  A smile plays at his lips at the thought of that, and the memory makes your cheeks heat up.  Suddenly, his bed feels huge, yet this room feels so small, drawing the two of you together.  You shouldn’t have come up here this late.  

“I--”  Part of you knows you should say that you can sleep now, that you’re fine, but you’re not.  “I wish I could sleep, but I’ve been... having nightmares, and they’re stupid, but I just...”

Your voice trails, and Lucifer moves from the chair to the bed in an instant, all traces of his teasing smile gone as he pulls you against his chest.  He doesn’t have to ask what they’re about; he knows.

He holds you in silence for a moment, while your heart hammers so hard, you know he can feels it.  Finally, his deep baritone murmurs, “I’m sorry.  I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

Your name comes out on his lips, and you feel your eyes watering, but you blink it away and shake your head.  “I’m okay.  I’m okay now.  Can we... lie down for a bit?”

The request comes out small, fearful of rejection, yet afraid of the acceptance as well.  Wordlessly, Lucifer lies back on the bed with you, his arms wound around you tight, one hand lightly trailing along your back.  You curl into him, burying your face in his chest (his heart’s beating quickly, too, some part of you registers), and slowly begin to drift asleep.

In your semi-consciousness, you realize Lucifer’s humming a melody you’ve never heard before, yet it makes you feel so safe.

Asmo

You know Asmo isn’t awake at this hour; he’s always told you that he needs plenty of beauty rest for his skin.  Still, you can’t help but click on his name, wishing that he was up so he could comfort you.  He’s so light-hearted, smiling and looping his arm through yours, and that casual intimacy has always put you at ease when you’re around him.  It makes it feel like you’ve known him forever. 

It’s that feeling that makes you type candidly, your thumb flying across the buttons.  

“I can’t sleep.”

If he doesn’t respond, then that’s fine; he’ll likely ask you about it tomorrow or give your tips to combat the bags that will surely be beneath your eyes.  To your surprise, however, an R pops up next to the message, followed closely by Asmo typing.  

“Then sleep with me, darling.”

That’s a dangerous double-meaning coming from the Avatar of Lust, but with your anxiety ramped up to an 11, you’re definitely not in the mood for that kind of distraction.  As you make your way out into the corridor and toward his room, you type out a clarification.  

“Just sleep, okay?  I had a nightmare.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll take your mind off it.”

When Asmo opens his door, you give him a lop-sided grin.  “You perv.”

“On the contrary, darling, what I said was completely innocent.  Check the chat log.  If you took it wrong, well... then, I must be rubbing off on you.”  Asmo smirks, automatically looping an arm around your waist and pulling you close.  To his credit, he’s never groped you (without implicit permission), so you’ve always felt at complete ease with his physical affection.  

“You’ve definitely been a bad influence,” you joke, not that your mind wasn’t dirty before you came to the Devildom.  “But I’m really tired.  I wanna be able to sleep.”

“Of course.  But you’re so tense!  Here, lie down on the bed and let me loosen you up.”  There’s a dirty joke on both of your tongues, but you’re too drained to make it, and he’s trying to be on his best behavior.  You comply, however, plopping down face-first onto his luxurious bed, while he sits beside you and begins rubbing the tension from your shoulders.  Asmo knows what he’s doing when it comes to massages, and his bed has a heavy floral scent, likely from the lotions and perfumes he uses often.  It’s so relaxing.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks, surprisingly energized for this time of night.  It’s obvious that you woke him up, but strangely enough, he isn’t complaining about the interruption to his beauty sleep.

“Not really.”  You’re starting to feel guilty about keeping him up.  “Hey, I think I’m good on the massage.  Do you mind... cuddling?”

His hands still on your shoulder blades.  “You don’t have to ask me twice.  I always want to cuddle with you!”  Grinning excitedly, he climbs beneath the covers beside you, and wraps you up in his arms.  He’s so warm, and you feel so at ease, surrounded by his soothing scent.  You wind your arms around his slender frame, and he grins, pulling you in tighter, facing one another.  

“You’re such a cute human.  You sounded embarrassed to ask just then.”

Your face flushes.  “Shuddup.  I just want you to get your beauty sleep,” you mutter, which only causes him to hug you tighter.

“Aww, you were worried about me?  You’re so sweet!  I’m supposed to be the one comforting you, silly.”  His hand trails along your back, just barely beneath your shirt so you can feel his skin on yours.  He tucks your head beneath his chin, but you can tell from his voice that he’s still grinning broadly.  “Just relax and fall asleep with me.  You won’t have a nightmare as long as I’m holding you.”

Asmo rocks you gently, until your abashment fades and you feel yourself succumbing to sleep at last.

He’s right.  

You don’t have another nightmare that night.  

Levi

If there’s someone you know is going to be awake and gaming at 3AM, it’s definitely Levi.  You click on his name, and type out a quick text:  “I can’t sleep.  Do you wanna come to my room and binge something?”

He reads the text within seconds and starts typing, just as you anticipated.  

“Raiding.  Come to my room instead?”

Even if you can’t sleep, you want to.  You want the company, a distraction, some comfort.  You would go to his room -- you’ve pulled plenty of all-nighters there, but... that’s what they were.  All-nighters.  His bed is literally a bathtub, and the one time you decided to take a nap in it, your neck had a wicked cramp in it for days. 

“I’m tired, though.  I was hoping we could watch it in bed and maybe fall asleep halfway through?”

This time, he reads it and doesn’t reply right away.  You see the three dots start and stop, and you’re not sure if he’s at a pivotal point in the raid, or if he’s too flustered by your invitation to properly respond.  Levi’s stayed in your room plenty of times, but he’s usually camped out with pillows in the floor, and if you happen to drift off, he keeps telling you random trivia about the show and shaking your leg until you make a noise that you heard him.  You’ve never fallen asleep with him.  

Your D.D.D. finally chimes with a notification.

“Did you send this to the right person??”

“Yes, Levi.”

“Oh.  Then you meant you want me to stay until you fall asleep.  For a second, I thought you meant sleep with you in your bed lolol.

Okay, after the raid.”

You know it’s just Levi being Levi and assuming you don’t feel that way about him, but with all the nervous energy you still have over the nightmare, you can’t help but feel your eyes water.  As childish as it sounds, you just want him to hold you so you can feel like everything’s okay.  You know you need to spell it out, but you leave his message on Read and pull the covers up to your chin, closing your eyes.  

... It’s too restrictive.  You kick at the covers and pick up your phone again, but... you can’t bring yourself to send another text, begging him to hurry.  You can always go to his room; the invitation stands.  Instead, you waste your time weighing your options, becoming more anxious, and ultimately, getting up to pace around your room.  

 About fifteen minutes pass before you hear a knock at your door, but it feels as if it’s been an eternity.  “It’s open,” you say, loud enough for him to hear, and Levi steps inside with a box set tucked beneath his arm.  

“Okay, I brought I Accidentally Became a Magical Girl, but the Transformation Sequence Takes So Long that the Villains Keep Attacking Me Halfway Through, and I Keep Losing but at Least I Get a Rose for Trying.  It got really good reviews, and I know you said you wanted to see more comedy anime.”  He smiles with such sincerity that you can’t help but feel guilty over tearing up a little earlier.  Just being around him makes you feel more at ease.  

“Thanks Levi, that sounds great.  Pop it in, and let’s give it a go.”  You smile doesn’t quite meet your gaze, and even though he’s a shut-in, it doesn’t go unnoticed that you’re acting different.  He pauses, but then shakes it off and starts setting it up, while you sit down on your bed.  As the first episode starts, he sits down beside you on the edge of the bed, while you’re sitting with your back against your pillows.  He starts telling you trivia about the animation studio and apparently, how the manga is actually more ecchi than the anime.  “OHHH, but I didn’t mean that I brought an ecchi anime for us to watch!  I mean, it’s sure to have some fanservice, but... but that’s just to be expected, right?  I wasn’t trying to be -- to be an Asmo or anything, I just thought you’d like it because it’s, uh, it’s supposed to be funny, and I--”

You lean forward and rest your forehead against his shoulder, cutting off his flustered explanation.  “You know I don’t mind that, Levi,” you assure him, before reaching out and grasping his sleeve.  He’s tense; even though you can’t see his face, you know it’s bright red, and you can feel the weight of his stare.  “I’d love to watch it with you.  I just... Will you lie down with me while we watch it?”

“L-l-lie down with you?!  Just-- just like that?!  Is this a joke?  Is this some kind of weird normie--?”

He breaks off as you finally raise your head to meet his gaze.  Levi can tell something’s amiss; he isn’t oblivious, he just lacks self-confidence.  He softly says your name.  “Why can’t you sleep?”

“I had a nightmare.  About, well... what happened back then.  In the foyer.  When... Belphie, uh...”

“Oh.”  He slides an arm around you, pulling you closer against his shoulder.  You feel so weak admitting that, but Levi isn’t judgmental; he just offers you the comfort you so desperately wanted from him.  “I didn’t know.  I thought you were just awake because you drank too much coffee or were bored or something.  If... If it’ll make you feel better, ye-yeah, I... I’ll lie down with you.  If you really want me to!”

He’s still flustered, but he doesn’t think you’re joking anymore, so you smile and nod against his shoulder.  “I’d really like that, Levi.  Thank you.”

His face turns even brighter.  “Y-yeah, no problem!”  

Levi slides under the covers after you straighten them out, and you settle in beside him.  His back’s up against the pillows now, so you snuggle into his side until he lifts his arm and gingerly puts it around you.  Your cheek settles on his chest, and he audibly gulps, but doesn’t move.  

Halfway into the episode, he starts pointing out the manga differences again, and you both laugh along with the gags and tropes throughout the show.  Levi becomes more comfortable and trails his fingers along your back, and you throw one of your legs over his, cuddling closer.  He keeps talking, this eccentric, passionate part of his personality being something you absolutely love about him, and the low murmur of his voice lulls you into a peaceful sleep.  

[felassan]

The rest of this post (quotes from the article) is under a cut due to length. [source]

(There are discussions of colonialism under the cut / in the article.)

After speaking to various devs who worked on MEA I’ve learned quite a bit about what happened here. First of all, there were several more species designed for this galaxy. One writer lists having proposed “five or six” new alien types, while another states that the ones BioWare opted for in the end were specifically chosen for being in “cosplay-safe” territory. Another dev mentions that an entire system was constructed just to facilitate communication between species who were indigenous to Andromeda and those who had arrived from the Milky Way. The “species who were indigenous to Andromeda” part is important, given that there were also different ideas for how to handle first contact - making the Pathfinder a violent colonist who shoots first and asks questions later wasn’t something that was set in stone from the get-go.

“I think it was a project that couldn't have possibly lived up to expectations,” Neil Pollner tells me. Pollner was a senior writer on Mass Effect 3 before going on to write parts of Andromeda. “Not just the high bar of the original trilogy, but the logical expectations anyone would have of Mass Effect going to a whole new galaxy. Because the scope of [the first] Mass Effect was so incredibly massive, there was an inherent promise that you'd be getting a massive new experience with a ton of new things in [what was supposed to be the first] Mass Effect Andromeda - new species, new lore, an entire new galaxy at your fingertips, etc.

“But we were only given the budget for two new species, plus the Remnant. Not to mention that we couldn't even include all the Milky Way species. And we weren't going to be able to let you travel throughout the galaxy. This meant that we had to develop the story around some pretty glaring inorganic limitations. So, not only did you get something that felt (and was) much smaller than what you got before, almost everyone playing the game probably had something that they really liked about Mass Effect that just wasn't there.”

Pollner goes on to explain something I mentioned above - that there’s an inherent disconnect between making your character an explorer in a game where the vast majority of gameplay involves killing. “Ryder the explorer should have a challenging and dynamic first contact experience,” he explains. “Instead, you're almost immediately killing kett. So, some very basic pillars just weren't lining up.”

When I ask about the fact that several species had apparently been cut from the game - something I had already learned in previous interviews - Pollner assures me that I had “no idea” of what was dropped in the early days of Andromeda. He also lamented the iconic narrative and branching complexity of earlier BioWare games, stating that he wishes the team had been able to maintain the same level of variation, options, and consequences as the revered RPGs the studio was known for.

“The other BioWare Montreal writers and I were dreaming up and developing things for Andromeda months ahead of Edmonton officially starting the project - i.e. before the budget and scope had been decided/communicated,” Pollner says. “We just knew that we were going to Andromeda, with almost nothing else established, including even when in the timeline it would happen. And we set out to brainstorm and grow ideas that could organically serve that general premise. “That first contact expectation I mentioned? We'd developed ideas for how the player would navigate that. We were working on a process for the Milky Way species to learn how to even communicate with the new alien species. We were developing several additional species for the new galaxy, as well as several different storylines for why the expedition had been undertaken. Most of that pre-development work ended up not being used.”

“I proposed five or six new alien species when Andromeda was in its infancy, and I still think they had a ton of potential,” Hepler says. “[Ex-BioWare writer] Jo Berry came up with a few, too, they were awesome.

“However, I'm pretty sure those ideas are still property of BioWare, so even though I'm 100% certain they won't be used, I can't talk about them without getting some kind of permission.”

Given that Pollner had his own ideas for new species, and that Hepler had “five or six” on top of a “few” more from Berry, it’s reasonable to conclude that concepting was done for up to ten additional species that never made it into Andromeda.

“I remember some early concepts that were pretty out there,” Dorian Kieken tells me. Kieken was a design director at BioWare Montreal for Mass Effect 2 and 3 before being promoted to franchise design director at the beginning of Andromeda’s development. “One of the strengths of the original Mass Effect trilogy is that you can actually cosplay most of the alien characters - except the Hanar, although I wouldn't underestimate the creativity of some cosplayers. The intention in Mass Effect Andromeda was to introduce new races that would still be in the realm of cosplay, which is probably why more crazy concepts were abandoned.”

I was surprised that this was even a consideration, so I followed up. Kieken assures me that after Andromeda’s two new races had been decided on, their evolution of their design gradually went into more “cosplay-safe territory,” with the team consciously steering away from “jellyfish” types of aliens. “In the early development of the game, we explored a lot of new species. I'm not sure why we settled on the specific number that were in the final game, but my guess would be a mix of production reasons and having a reasonable amount of races to deal with knowing we were already bringing quite a few from the Milky Way as well.”

As Pollner mentioned earlier, the team only had the budget for two new species plus the Remnant. On top of that, they weren’t able to bring all of the Milky Way species, which corroborates Kieken’s recollection of why so many species were cut.

Given the context of these conversations - species being cut from Andromeda, first contact being muddled with militance, and even cosplay potential governing alien design - I also ask why, in the devs’ eyes, Andromeda was poorly received in relation to the original trilogy.

“I think it’s more story-related than setting-related,” Kieken says. “Andromeda has strong core gameplay that improved a lot over the trilogy, but the story didn't feel as strong. I didn't connect with the new character cast as much as I did with the original trilogy.

“It's also not a fair comparison as the trilogy is three games, so you have a lot more exposition and time to bond with the characters. That being said, I seem to recall a stronger rollercoaster of emotions in the original trilogy, which I think led to more memorable moments. From the tension of almost blowing up Wrex with your shotgun or gathering everyone on a suicide run, to the lightness of listening to Mordin sing ‘I'm the very model of a scientist Salarian’ or shooting cans with Garrus in the Presidium.”

Pollner also explains why Andromeda was perceived so differently from the original trilogy, citing differences in the amount of time the team were given to make the game, but also noting that the core issue was more systemic in nature.

“I think the thesis statement for why is that the Mass Effect trilogy was an incredibly demanding endeavor,” Pollner says. “The checks that were written for it, the complexity of the experience was insanely massive. The team worked their asses off non-stop for so many years, on back-to-back-to-back games. The prospect of doing the same thing again was not only exhausting to imagine, but totally impractical. Some of the ‘lessons’ learned from the original trilogy are ones that are important for game development but result in the player experience being less. When you're talking about triple-A development, the original trilogy is actually the anomaly, not Andromeda.

“Because I moved on from BioWare after my work on Andromeda was complete, I have no idea what, if any, future plans there might be. At the time of my departure, there were none.”

It’s worth noting that Pollner is clear about Andromeda being better than a lot of people give it credit for. While some of the concerns people had have now been verified by people who worked on the project - that there could have been more species and that the core premise of Ryder the explorer becoming Ryder the killer is inherently flawed - the team still worked hard on delivering an ambitious game within the constraints of what they were given.

“I find the game to actually be pretty darn fun, and once the technical flaws were ironed out, and the initial reactive disappointment faded, the game does stand on its own,” Pollner says. “There's some really good stuff in there.”

[source]

[mosswillow]

Try again, and again, and again - Maybe you’ll be free this time.

Dark!Charles Xavior x Reader (fem), Dark!Erik (Magneto) x Reader

Warnings: 18+ Adult content, Rape/noncon/dubcon, oral (male recieving), manipulation, abuse, mind control, posessive behavior, glove kink, blood, violence.  

Word count: 2222

A/N: Eek, I finally finished this. I hope ya’ll enjoy it. This is different from my original plan of multiple parts. I like how this came out though, it feels right with the vibe of part one. Hopefully it’s the right amount of confusing to make it fun and interesting but not stressful.

By clicking keep reading you confirm that you are an adult over the age of 18 and understand that this content is dark and potentially triggering.

You’ve done this too many times, stood at this window remembering it all. It’s exhausting; you’re so tired, so worn down. It’s a lie, all of it. You never married him. He forced you into this, erased your memories and added his own. He stripped you of your agency, moulded you into what he wants. A happy wife, someone to control - to submit.  

“Are you ready to stop this now?” Charles hisses from behind you.

A tear runs down your cheek and you wipe it away with the back of your hand. You step back from the window and slowly force your body across the room to your “husband”.  

“Good girl,” he praises, pulling you down and kissing away your tears.

You close your eyes and let him kiss you. His tongue pushes in your mouth and you open for him, tasting the slight saltiness of your tears on his tongue.

“Let’s go back to bed,” he smiles.

You lie next to him and turn your body away, stiffening as he puts his arm over you protectively. Your life has always been like this since you were born, it was stupid to think you could ever find happiness in this fucked up world. You feel his hand snake down your body and take a deep breath before opening your legs for him.

He was the first mutant you ever met, found you scared and starving in an alleyway and gave you food - love - family. He made you feel like you weren't alone for the first time in your life. For so long everyone around you made you feel like your power was bad but he didn’t think that. He thought that your power made you better than everyone else. He taught you to embrace it, to carry your mutation with pride. He told you to never take abuse, to throw everything they did to you right back at them.

Comical, really, how the one who brought you to a place of acceptance, who taught you not to take abuse, turned around and abused you. He had taught you well, too well. As soon as the first bruise showed up you chose to leave. You deserved better.

“What do you think you’re doing,” He said as you packed a bag. You should have left while he was gone but it was too late now.

“I just need space Erik, some time to think about what I want.”

“No,” his voice was quiet but serious, the tone more alarming than any of the times he had yelled. it made you stop packing and look at him. He took a small step forward and you noticed the disheveled appearance. His leather costume was torn in several places and sweat was beading on his forehead.

“This is what I’m talking about, I need to be able to have my own life. You dictate everything and won’t even tell me where you go. You… you hurt me,” you grabbed your arm gingerly, looking at it and frowning.  

The familiar sound of metal being manipulated came from Erik and you looked up just in time to see pieces of silver fly towards you. Your wrists were suddenly encased and you tried in vain to move against them.

“Let me go,” you said.

“No,” he replied almost too calmly.

“I’m leaving you Erik, you can’t do this,”

He walked to you and ran a gloved hand over your cheek.

“I can do anything I want, baby.”

Your wrists suddenly slammed into the floor and he was grabbing your head, tilting it back so that you looked up at him. He brought his other hand to your cheek, smoothing his thumb over your lips. “Anything,” he said as he pushed his thumb in your mouth. The earthy smell and taste of his glove overwhelmed your senses and you struggled against him. It was no use though. He was stronger than you would ever be. You relaxed your jaw and closed your eyes and he removed his hand, replacing it with his dick. He grunted as he pushed into your mouth, slowly pushing further into your throat with every thrust. When his cum finally filled your throat you swallowed and kept your eyes down. He crouched in front of you and kissed your cheek before leaving to shower. He left you there all night and by the time you were finally released from your chains you were too exhausted to fight. He carried you to the bed and fucked you gently and you let him.

You spent months alone in the prison he created for you. He said you would be let out once he was confident you wouldn’t try to run or use powers but you weren’t sure that would ever happen. Even when you followed all his rules, when you acted like you loved him. He would still find reasons to keep you isolated. Your life revolved around him, a cycle of trying to please him, eventually acting out and the inevitable punishment that came with your rebelion. It wasn’t a way to live.

“You’re thinking about him.” Charles' voice has an edge to it, one you’re familiar with.

You nod and turn your face away.

“You’re not there anymore sweetheart, I’ll take care of you.”

Charles grabs your chin and forces your head towards him. He kisses you softly on the cheek and pulls you towards him until you’re settled against his warm body.

He’s the same though, it’s the exact same suffocating love you ran from almost two years ago.

It took five years of trying to finally do it. Erik made a mistake, He left the back door open and you took your chance without hesitation. The first barefooted step onto the dirt was euphoric. Being kept away from the earth was like torture. Silent tears fell as you dug your hand into the ground and felt it move. It sucked away the fear, leaving you with a sense of peace. You had power again, could feel it like electricity move through your body.

Sounds of fighting came from nearby and you hid.

You could feel where people walked. The earth was talking to you, telling you when and where to hide. You made your way to a helicopter and crouched in the back, making yourself as small as you could and praying that whoever was attacking would get away and take you with them.

You held your breath as a group of mutants piled in quickly and the helicopter lifted from the ground. You stayed hidden for an hour before someone noticed you. A woman, red hair and drenched in sweat looked at you.  

“Who are you?” she asked. her bright green eyes widening in shock.

“I’m not like him,” Charles says “You’re happy here,” The anger in his voice becomes more evident by the second.

“Stay out of my head!” you yell.

A headache starts burrowing into your brain and you cry out in pain.

“I’m not like him,” he reiterates.

You struggle in his arms, turning to your back and looking at him from inches away.

“You’re even worse. He always knew he was a monster, he wanted liberation at any cost, me at any cost. He was…” you search for the words to explain “a poisoned cup of water.”

You grit your teeth and stare in his eyes, bringing your face so that your noses almost touch. You don’t care, there’s nothing he can do to you that hasn’t already been done, no way he can hurt you more than he already has.

“You pretend like you’re a hero but you’re not. You're a glass of juice laced with the same exact pison as him. You look good and taste good but you’ll kill me the same way.”

He uses his power against you, reminding you who he is and what he can do. You scream as your body bursts into invisible flames. With Erik the bruises would remind you that it was real.  Charles doesn’t even afford you that. Everything with him is invisible, all in your head. They’re not the same, Charles is worse.

“Is she ok?”

“She’s fine Jean, give her some space.”

You groaned as you returned to consciousness.

“She’s waking up!”

You jolted up, turning your head to stare at your surroundings. The last memory you had was crouching in the helicopter, now you were laying on a couch surrounded by mutants.

“I’m Jean,” a soft voice said.

“I’m sorry I… there were no other ways out,” you whispered.

“We know,” You looked over to see Charles pushing himself towards you. He stopped and looked you in the eyes.

“We’ll take care of you,” He smiled.

You smiled back, feeling safe and free for the first time in a long time. The X-Men, you had found a true family at last. Everything was going to be ok.

You’re expecting him to knock you out again, for you to fall asleep and wake up his loving wife but The pain stops suddenly and you whip your head towards him in surprise.

“You didn’t take my memories?” you ask.

“I’m not like him,” Charles insists.

You sit up and pull your knees to your chest.

“Show me you aren't, let me go.”

He looks up at the ceiling and inhales.

“I can’t.”

It started so slow with Charles. He gave you personal lessons, treated you kindly. You started to actually fall for him.

But then a new mutant came in and the chemistry was like nothing you had ever felt.

Charles got jealous almost immediately. You slowly started to see him the same way you saw Erik, recognizing the signs, there were so many red flags. You weren’t going to stick around, you had to leave while it was still an option.

You packed a bag and ran without a word, finding a job far away.

You should have known better. It was your hope that he would just let you go but of course he didn’t. Charles found you easily, and he was angry. You had never seen so much rage, it was like you were looking into Eriks eyes. You begged him not to do it, cried for help.

They stood there complacent as he forced you to your knees and rewrote your history, wiping your brain for the first time. They said they were your family, you loved them, and they betrayed you.

“It would be easier if you just accepted this, I don’t like using my powers against you.” he says.

You roll your eyes. He does like using them, you see it behind his eyes every time he does it. He loves the power. You look at his face and see a slight twitch in his eye. The wheels start turning in your head, a theory forms.

“You’re losing your ability to control me,” you say.

He sets his jaw and you know you’re right. Your lips lift into a small smile as hope starts to bloom.

“What will you do once you can’t just erase memories?” you ask.

A headache starts again and you stare at him, fighting back. You’ve never fought back before like this, didn’t know you could.

“I’m going to leave you,” you say before the world goes black.

Jean was the one who made the memories return for the first time. She unlocked them for you, cried and apologized as you sat there panicking.

Nobody said no to Charles. he wanted you and they were too afraid of him to stop it, she told you. The team was happier, Charles was happier. They sacrificed you, pushed the abuse onto you so that it wasn’t on them anymore.

It was all a show.

Your husband of three years had only kidnapped you a week prior. It was stressful and confusing, you ran to the bathroom and vomited. Charles called your name from the kitchen and you bolted out of the house. You made it halfway through the yard before you were tackled and held with your hands above your head. The only thing you could reach was a little bow from your hair. You took it and jammed it into the ground, letting the earth take it and hoping that one day it could somehow help you. You had to fight, keep trying no matter what.

“Good morning my love,” Charles says.

“Good morning,” you smile back.

You give him a kiss on the cheek and stretch out before walking to the kitchen. You look out the window and your memories come back in a sudden burst.

You turn around to see him in the doorway. Fear washes over his face as he realizes how fast you escaped this time.

You smile and raise your middle finger at him. The window shatters into small pieces as your fist breaks through. Blood drips down your hand but you don’t care. You’re free.

“I’ll find you,” he calls.

Maybe he will. Maybe he’ll find you and bring you back, keep you locked up. Maybe he’ll add chains to your hands and feet like Erik did. He won’t chain your mind though, never again will he control you like that. He can try again, and again, and again but you’ll always break free.