#even though it won't cause you to lose weight

[livinghalfway]

Right Reasons; Wrong Kid

Summary: Batfam thinks Damian is being kidnapped when they see Danny getting manhandled into a car by Vlad; Danny loves to make Vlad's life difficult and puts up a fight getting into the car.

Word Count: 1450

Being in Gotham was the last place Danny wanted to be today, especially when he had to be here with Vlad. The fruitloop had somehow convinced his parents that he should go to this stupid three day business conference with him.

While Danny can't make any decisions right now he can certainly make Vlad regret his. Which is why Danny doesn't feel an ounce of embarrassment at what he is currently doing.

"Daniel, get in the car." Vlad hissed at him with a tight smile as they both stood outside of the building the conference was being hosted in.

"No." He said; even going as far as to take a step backwards to further spite the man in front of him.

It was clear Vlad was losing his patience with him if the subtle flash of red in his eyes is anything to go off of. "Daniel, I won't ask again. Get in the car now, or I can drag you in. The choice is yours, but you will be getting in this car one way or another."

"You really gonna drag a kid into your car in front of all these people you're trying so hard to impress?" Danny looked from side to side at all the people congregating on the sidewalk and steps as they wait for their vehicles to arrive.

"I'm hardly the first person they've seen that has had to deal with a stubborn child refusing to listen." Vlad says as he takes a threatening step forward, "Now get in the car."

"No."

Seemingly annoyed but not surprised Vlad takes a deep breath before his hand, like a snake, strikes forward and grabs a hold of him before beginning to pull. Just as quickly though Danny is trying to pull away with just as much strength. Quickly taking a moment to look around he sees that others are already starting to look in their direction; perfect.

With him distracted though Vlad was able to get a sharp tug on him causing him to stubble towards the car. Before he can fall into the car though Danny is shooting his foot forward, firmly planting it down as his hands land on both sides of the open car door.

"Gonna have to try harder than that, fruitloop. I can't make it too easy for you." Danny teased as he fought against Vlad’s pushing.

Vlad doesn't say anything back to him besides giving a low growl. This situation is clearly not going the way he wanted to and Vlad’s frustration was starting to show, and Danny was determined to watch this man break in front of all these people he so desperately wanted to impress.

He locked his arms and knees when he felt Vlad start pushing harder against his back. Preparing himself to jump to the side the moment Vlad loosened his grip even slightly. What he wasn't prepared for though was for the weight pushing against him to suddenly disappear.

"What is going on here?" A deceivingly friendly voice sounds out behind him.

Before Danny can realize what has just happened though a much stronger hand is gripping his shoulder and yanking him away from the open car door. Finally able to see more than just the car's interior Danny see's that three other men are now standing by the car.

Two of them, a teen not much older than himself and a middle aged man, are standing in front of him as if forming a wall between him and Vlad. Who is being held in place by the third man.

Danny can see that Vlad was just as thrown off by these strangers as he is based on the startled look on his face. What confuses him though is when instead of becoming angry like he expects Vlad only looks surprised as he takes in the three guys with them.

"Bruce Wayne!" Vlad announces with a tight grin, "I was just trying to get my son to cooperate with me and get in the car. I'm sure you understand how teenage boys are."

"I'm not your son!" Danny instinctively yells out; no way in hell was he going to let Vlad tell people they were any way related.

It took him a second to register what name Vlad had even said.

Bruce Wayne? He remembers Sam and Tucker talking about that guy and his family when they found out he was going to Gotham. Which means if he's remembering correctly then the young man next to Vlad is most likely Dick Grayson and the older teen next to him is Tim Drake.

Without looking at him Bruce leans towards him and whispers, "Shh Damian, let me handle this."

Wait. What?

"I'm not-" Danny tried to say that his name wasn't Damian, but was quickly interrupted before he could.

"Damian, quiet." Bruce lowly growls; still not moving his gaze to look at Danny. "Actually, Mr. Masters, you'll find that this is my son, and I don't think you should be putting your hands on him."

Vlad looks from Bruce to Danny and then back to Bruce, "While I do agree that you and Daniel share some resemblance this is not your son Mr. Wayne."

It seems Bruce wasn't going to entertain Vlad's "lie" because he still doesn't bother to even look at Danny. Tim on the other hand seems to consider what Vlad said, and turns to actually look at his face.

Danny almost laughs out loud when he sees shock immediately overtake Tim's face. At least one of these fruit loops is smart enough to recognize that he isn't the youngest Wayne.

"Bruce, this isn't Damian." Tim states with wide eyes still locked with his.

Upon hearing this the other two Wayne's finally take a hard look at Danny for themselves.

"Oh my God B, that's not Damian!" Dick exclaims before releasing his hold on Vlad.

Bruce on the other hand is frozen in shock as he stares at Danny as he comes to the realization that the boy in front of him is in fact not his youngest son. Snapping himself out of his stupor, the older man finally addresses Vlad. "Mr. Masters, my deepest apologies. It seems this young man and my son look remarkably alike, and I assumed the worst when I saw him fighting to get into the car."

Vlad takes a step forward towards Danny clear with his intentions of getting them into the car now, but before he can grab him Bruce is once more taking a step in front of Danny. "I would actually like to have a quick word with Daniel if you won't mind."

"And why is that?"

"I have a son his age after all, maybe I can help ease this teenage rebellion phase, and cause less fights when it comes to getting in the car."

Danny must have been more focused on the growing argument in front of him more than he thought because he ends up slightly jumping when he feels a sudden hand on his shoulder. Looking to his right he sees that Dick is now standing next him with a soft smile. "Daniel, right?"

“Danny actually, and you’re Dick?”

"Yup! That's me," He gestures to the boy standing on Danny's other side, "and this is Tim. Sorry about all this; we thought our brother was being kidnapped."

"Do I seriously look that much like him?" At this point Danny had to meet Damian if the guy's family was even confusing the two of them.

Tim is giving him a concentrated look when he replies, "It's like the two of you could be twins or maybe even clones. The eye color is the biggest difference between the two of you."

If Danny didn't know any better he would think Tim was accusing him of being a clone based on the tone of his voice. He knew Gotham was weird, but he didn't think he would have to worry about cloning here. "While I was adopted when I was pretty young, but I think I'd know if I had a twin or if I was a clone."

"Crazy things happen all the time in Gotham."

Well, that doesn’t sound ominous at all. Danny can't believe saying this, but it's probably time to get Vlad's attention and get the hell out of here. He already has one crazy fruitloop to worry about; he doesn't need more. "Vlad, I think we really need to-."

“Father, what is the meaning of all this?” A new voice interrupts him, and when he sees who it is truly shocking to see a mirror of his own face. The other is also now looking at him with something akin to shock and grief.

“Damian?”

“Danyal.”

[a-queer-little-wombat]

Hand one: more people need to know these things.

Hand two: as someone who is constantly physically uncomfortable due to excess fat, this is depressing as fuck. I just want to be able to wear *pants* and sleep on my back without my boobs suffocating me.

I gave my soapbox speech about how weight loss is mostly bullshit to two different patients in a row yesterday and so help me I’m pretty sure one of these days someone is going to say “but SURELY you agree I’d be HEALTHIER if I lost weight!” bc you can see the disbelief in their eyes. And like. Sure, maybe! You might see some improvement in biomarkers like LDL and A1c, and your knees would probably feel better. But you would be amazed at how much more good you can do for yourself by focusing on things you can actually meaningfully change without resorting to making yourself miserable. Eat more fresh fruits and vegetables—it’s hard bc they’re more difficult to prepare and more expensive per calorie and go bad faster than other foods, but they’re what we evolved eating the most of so they’re what our bodies need the most of. And walk around more; sure, cardio is great for you, but if it sucks so bad you don’t do it, it isn’t doing shit for you. And we evolved to walk very very long distances, a little bit at a time, so our bodies respond actually very well to adding walks into our schedules, which is vastly easier than adding workouts that are frankly designed to be punishing when the definition of punishing is “makes you less likely to do it again in the future.”

You get one life. It is shorter than you can begin to imagine. Don’t waste it hating yourself because somebody is going to make money off that self-hatred. You deserve better than to be a cash cow for billionaires who pay aestheticians and dermatologists to make them (or at least their trophy wives) look thin and beautiful no matter what they actually do.

[idkyetxoxo]

Aemond Targaryen - Embracing the Unexpected

Summary - Aemond and his wife navigate the fear, love, and uncertainty of new parenthood, discovering that the joy of new life is irresistible, even when it arrives as an unexpected set of multiple babies.

Pairing - Aemond Targaryen x reader

Warnings - Childbirth (brief)

Word count - 2482

Masterlist for Aemond • House of the Dragon General Masterlist

"You startled me," I gasped, my voice trembling as I felt a pair of hands trail softly across my bare shoulders. My heart raced, pounding in my chest, as I clung desperately to the discarded fabric of my gown.

"It's only me," Aemond murmured, his voice low and soothing. He pressed a gentle kiss to the nape of my neck, his hands gliding along my sides. 

I drew in a shaky breath, trying to calm myself. With a subtle wriggle, I slipped out of his embrace and stepped away, wrapping the nightgown more securely around myself before turning to face him.

His expression was a mixture of concern and sadness.

"What's the matter?" he asked softly as I made my way to the bed. I sat down, crossing my legs and began to braid my hair with methodical movements.

"Nothing," I replied, barely above a whisper. Aemond sat beside me, his fingers gently untangling the strands of my hair as he watched me with a worried gaze.

"Then why have you been keeping me at a distance these past few weeks?" he asked, his lips brushing against the side of my neck. 

I gripped the sheets tightly, my face averted as the flush of distress spread from my cheeks to the tips of my ears.

He pulled back, his eyes searching mine with a pained expression. 

"Am I repulsing you?" he asked, his voice thick with hurt. Before I could respond, he continued, "Do you no longer want me?"

I shook my head quickly, my heart aching at the thought of causing him such pain. I moved closer to him, desperate to reassure him. 

"No, it's not that at all. I promise," I said, my voice earnest. I could see the hurt in his eyes, and it made me feel even more unsettled.

"Aemond, it's just..." I started, the words tangling in my throat as I struggled to articulate my feelings. My mind raced, the weight of the truth pressing down on me until I couldn't hold it back any longer. 

"I'm with child," I blurted out, the confession leaving my lips before I could second-guess it.

His reaction was instant. His head snapped towards me, eye wide with shock. 

For a moment, his face lit up with joy, but as he registered my anxiety, that joy dimmed. The light in his expression faded, and he slowly stood from the bed, turning away from me as if to shield himself from what he feared might come next.

"Wait," I cried out, desperation seizing my heart as tears welled up in my eyes. The mere thought of him walking away from me, from us, was unbearable. "Please, don't leave."

His back remained turned, but his voice was sharp, carrying the weight of his wounded pride. 

"Does the thought of having a child with me cause such distress?" he asked, his words laced with bitterness. I shook my head, realizing too late that he couldn't see my silent denial.

"No, no, Aemond, it's not like that at all," I pleaded, my voice cracking under the strain of my emotions. "I'm just... afraid."

Finally, he turned around to face me, his expression a mixture of confusion and concern. 

"Why are you afraid?" he asked, his voice softer now, though it was clear he was struggling to understand.

"I'm afraid that I won't be enough," I whispered, my deepest fears spilling out into the open. 

"That I'll fail you, that I'll fail our child. I'm terrified of what's to come, of not knowing how to be a mother, of not being able to protect our child from the dangers of this world and most of all, I'm afraid that you'll see me differently now, that I'll lose you in ways I can't even fathom."

Aemond's expression softened, and he took a step closer to me, reaching out to cup my face in his hands. 

"You're not going to lose me," he said, his voice steady and full of conviction. "We'll face this together, whatever comes. You're not alone in this, and I will be by your side every step of the way. We'll figure it out, I promise you."

Tears spilt over, and I leaned into his touch, finding comfort in the warmth of his hands. His words were a balm to my anxious heart, but the fear still lingered, a shadow that would take time to fully dispel. 

Eight months later, I found myself pacing the chamber, one hand pressed against my back, the other cradling my swollen belly. 

Each step was a struggle, my breaths coming in short, laboured gasps as the pain in my abdomen grew more intense. Every contraction felt like a wave crashing over me, leaving me trembling and weak.

I groaned, my forehead resting heavily against the bedpost as another contraction tore through me. My hair was matted to my forehead, damp with sweat, and my body ached under the immense strain. 

It felt as though I might burst from the pressure, the sheer force of it overwhelming me.

"Where is Aemond? Where is he?" I gasped, my voice tinged with desperation as I scanned the room. 

Faces blurred around me, the maids and midwives moving quickly, but none of them were the ones I needed to see.

"The father's presence is not customary during the birth," the maester explained calmly, though his words were drowned out by the scream that erupted from my lips. 

The pain was unbearable, and the thought of going through this without Aemond made it worse.

"I want Aemond!" I cried out, pushing away the handmaidens who were attempting to soothe me. Their gentle hands and soft words were of no comfort, only he could provide that.

As if summoned by my plea, the door to the chamber burst open, and Aemond rushed in, his face pale with worry. Without a moment's hesitation, he ran to my side, his arms encircling me in a protective embrace.

"Aemond, please, stay with me. I can't do this alone," I sobbed, clutching at him as if he were my lifeline.

"My prince," the maester began, his voice tinged with disapproval, "it is not customary for the father to be present—"

"I do not care what is customary," Aemond snapped, his voice steely with resolve. "If my wife wants me to stay, I will stay."

He guided me toward the bed, his hands gentle but firm as he helped me lie down. Another scream tore from my throat, the pain intensifying as my body prepared for the final stage of labour. 

Aemond held my hand tightly, his presence grounding me amid the chaos.

"You're doing so well," he murmured, his lips brushing against my temple as he tried to soothe me. "I'm here, love. I'm not going anywhere."

Each contraction came with a force that seemed to split me in two. Time lost all meaning as I focused solely on Aemond's steady presence.

The pain was blinding, but knowing he was there kept me from being completely consumed by it.

Minutes stretched into hours, each moment a battle as my body worked tirelessly to bring our child or so we thought into the world. Aemond never wavered, his hands steady on mine, his words a constant source of comfort. 

When I felt I could push no more, when I was certain I had nothing left to give, his voice would pull me back, reminding me that I was not alone.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the maester's voice broke through the haze of pain. 

"The babe is crowning," he announced, and I gasped, the realization that the end was near bringing a rush of determination.

"Just a little more," Aemond whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "You're almost there."

With a final, desperate push, I felt a release, and the sound of a baby's cry filled the room. Tears welled up in my eyes as I collapsed against the pillows, utterly exhausted but relieved beyond measure.

"It's a boy," the maester announced, placing the squirming, crying infant in Aemond's arms. His face was a mixture of awe and disbelief as he looked down at our son, and then back at me.

"You did it," he whispered, his voice filled with pride.

Before I could respond, another contraction hit, more intense than before. My eyes widened in shock, and I looked at Aemond, fear creeping back into my heart. 

"There's another one," I gasped, my hand gripping his with renewed urgency.

The maester's expression shifted from concern to realization. "There's another babe," he confirmed, moving quickly to assist with the unexpected second birth.

Aemond's eyes were wide with shock, but he quickly regained his composure, focusing entirely on me. 

"You can do this," he said, his voice steady. "I'm right here with you."

The second labour was just as intense, but somehow, knowing what to expect made it more bearable. Aemond's hand never left mine, his voice guiding me through each agonizing contraction. After what felt like an eternity, a second cry filled the room.

"It's another boy," the maester said, handing the newborn to a waiting handmaiden to clean and wrap.

Aemond's eye was shining with tears as he looked between our two sons.

Before I could catch my breath, a sharp pain tore through me once more, I felt as though my body was being torn apart.. My heart raced, panic rising as I realized there was yet another child.

The maester's expression turned serious as he realized the truth. "Triplets," he said, a mix of amazement and concern in his voice. "This will be the last one."

Exhaustion threatened to overwhelm me, but Aemond's presence kept me from sinking into despair. 

"You're almost there," he whispered, his voice strained with emotion. "Just one more, love. You can do this."

With every ounce of strength I had left, I pushed through the final wave of pain. The third birth was the hardest, with my body protesting the entire way, but finally, mercifully, it was over. 

The last cry filled the room, softer and more delicate than the others.

"It's a girl," the maester announced, his tone gentler now, as he carefully swaddled our daughter.

Aemond was speechless, his eye wide with disbelief and joy as he looked at the three tiny bundles in the hands of the midwives. "Three..." he whispered as if he couldn't quite believe it. "We have three."

I collapsed back onto the pillows, utterly spent but filled with a profound sense of love and accomplishment. Tears streamed down my face as Aemond placed our daughter in my arms, her tiny features perfect and serene.

He sat beside me, holding our two sons, his expression one of utter devotion. "You did it," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "You brought them into the world."

Despite the exhaustion, despite the pain, nothing could overshadow the overwhelming joy of that moment.

A couple of hours passed in a haze of exhaustion and bliss. The room, once filled with the frantic energy of childbirth, had quieted into a peaceful sanctuary. 

The three tiny bundles nestled in our arms were the centre of our world, their soft breaths and occasional whimpers the only sounds breaking the stillness.

Aemond sat beside me on the bed, cradling our two sons, while our daughter rested against my chest. I marvelled at their delicate features, the softness of their skin, and the way they seemed to fit perfectly into our arms. 

It was overwhelming to think that just hours ago, they had been growing inside me, and now they were here each a tiny miracle.

The door creaked open, and I looked up to see Alicent entering the chamber. Her face, usually so composed and regal, softened as she took in the sight before her. 

Her eyes shone with a mixture of pride and love as she approached the bed, her steps careful and measured.

"Aemond," she greeted her son, her voice warm with affection. "And how are you, my dear?" she asked, turning to me with a smile that reached her eyes.

"Tired, but happy," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper, still feeling the lingering exhaustion from the ordeal.

Alicent's gaze shifted to the three babes, her expression one of awe. She reached out to gently stroke the cheek of our daughter, her fingers tender and light. 

"They're beautiful," she said softly, her voice filled with admiration. "Three little blessings. I don't think I've ever seen anything so perfect."

I smiled, my heart swelling with pride and joy. 

"They are," I agreed, my voice catching in my throat as I looked down at our daughter. The love I felt for them was overwhelming, almost too much to contain.

Alicent moved her gaze to the two boys in Aemond's arms, her smile deepening as she reached out to touch their tiny hands. 

"Have you decided on names?" she asked, her tone gentle as she looked between us.

Aemond and I exchanged a glance, a silent conversation passing between us. We had spent countless nights talking about names, but now that they were here, the decision felt weightier, more significant.

Finally, Aemond spoke, his voice soft yet steady. "We have," he said, his eyes meeting his mother's. "Our daughter will be named Viserra,"

Alicent's eyes softened further, her smile widening. "Viserra," she repeated, the name rolling off her tongue with reverence. "A beautiful name for a beautiful girl."

"And our sons," I added, my voice trembling with emotion, "will be named Vaegon and Viserion."

Alicent's eyes flickered with recognition, and she nodded approvingly. "Vaegon and Viserion," she echoed, her voice filled with pride. "Strong names for strong boys. They will carry them well."

She looked between us, her expression one of deep affection and pride. "You have chosen well," she said, her voice filled with warmth.

Alicent leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead. 

"I am so proud of you both," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "You have brought such light into this world, and I know you will be wonderful parents."

She stepped back, giving us a moment of privacy, her eyes lingering on the three tiny babes who had already stolen all our hearts. 

"Rest now," she said, her voice tender. "You have earned it and when you're ready, we will celebrate these new additions to our family."

As she left the room, the warmth of her presence lingered, filling the chamber with a sense of peace and fulfilment. Aemond looked at me, his face filled with love and gratitude. 

"Viserra, Vaegon, and Viserion," he repeated softly as if the names were a prayer, a promise for the future.

I nodded, smiling through my tears as I looked down at our children. "They're perfect," I whispered, my heart swelling with love for the tiny lives we had brought into the world.

Aemond leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to my lips, his hand resting gently on our daughter's back. 

As we sat there, surrounded by the quiet strength of our love and the promise of our future, I knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together.

A/n - I swear thinking of the names took longer than writing the whole thing literally had to hop onto reddit.

Aemond tag list - @darylandbethfanforever9 @lessdepressy

[kenjakusbraincum]

can you pls write something about reader being sick and like not the cough and cold kind of sick- like really really sick, and sukuna realising how much he doesn't want to lose her to this sickness and how if she dies, he'll be alone again..🥺

You have NO idea how much I love this idea!!! I did go a bit overboard with it cause I love suffering though 👍 Still, this was SO much fun to write and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Vows

Sukuna x Reader

Word count: 4.5k

Tags/warnings: gn! reader, true form! sukuna, master/pet dynamic, fluff but most importantly ANGST, mentions of weight loss, mentions of violence, implied nsfw, reader dies in the end :( (sorry)

It's not the first time Sukuna has been made aware of your mortality. He recalls many instances when he's been reminded that you are human. Finite. The first time he wrapped his hand around your throat and squeezed with calculation while you were laying under him, and you looked up at him in fear for your life. Your little hand couldn't even wrap around his wrist, much less provide resistance. Or when he'd pull your hair a little too roughly, and hear a crack in your delicate spine. When you'd get sick, and humbly refuse his healing. So little as a tummy ache had you writhing on your bed.

You are so weak, so small, clinging to life like there was anything for you in it, beyond Sukuna. By all means he hates all of these things. So what witchery is this, and why does he care about you so much? Why does he keep you for years, and why does your company bring him comfort he hasn't ever known in his lifetime?

Still, as much as he cares, he doesn't notice when it starts. He's trained you to tolerate pain, after all. It's no wonder you hesitate to tell him. Little things like tummyaches and colds occur to you all the time anyways, and you never complain. Sure, you've grown closer to Sukuna, but he was still your master, and the rules he instilled in you from the start were always fresh in your mind, not to be crossed. Bothering him with everything that feels off always seemed inappropriate.

And Sukuna is just like that. If you're not screaming or crying, he won't know you're in pain. But he notices that you're acting off. And how he reacts really doesn't help your case, or encourage you to speak up about your condition. ''I don't have all day. What is wrong with you?'', he sneers when he catches you pacing too far behind him.

So you just sleep longer and preserve energy for when you are with him. You don't skip around as much anymore, or spend time doing your hobbies. Food doesn't taste so great anymore. You have a cough that gives you sleepless nights because it just won't calm down. And the time you owe Sukuna starts to feel like an obligation. You start to dread it. Dread slipping up, dread annoying him or failing to satisfy him. Dread being disposable.

When things start getting worse, it's hard to hide it even from him. He was taking you from behind one night, and you were grateful he couldn't see the look on your face. You thought you could do it. Sukuna was always demanding, but he would never force you to do anything. If only you told him before you felt yourself struggling for air, and your chest closing in on itself in tightness. You reached one hand back, frantically grabbing his wrist.

''Feathers, feathers!'', words came out as gasps, and you slumped forward when he let you go. You were panicked and crying by then, this kind of discomfort being foreign even to you, even after weeks of pain behind you. He hovered next to you with a puzzled look on his face. He wasn't even being that rough.

''What's wrong? Tell me.'', he said, and reached his hand to feel the warmth of your tears streaming down your face. He swiped your cheek gently. He didn't seem mad at all. Why didn't you say anything from the start?

''I just feel so sick.'', you muster up in between sobs, and shut your eyes. You were too embarrassed to even look at him.

''I see.''. His hand leaves your face, and he traces it from your neck down your spine. The pain subsided slowly, allowing you to relax and find comfort in his arms.

But the effects of his healing were short lived. Just a week later the feeling of fatigue creeps back into your life. Manageable, but lingering. And the cough persists. And it gets on Sukuna's nerves too. He's been quite patient with you, but his patience was reaching it's limit.

You're sitting by his throne as you often do, and as hard as you try to hold the cough in, you just can't help it. His hand finds the back of your neck and squeezes, turning you to him. And he looks at you with all four, terrifying eyes. ''Can you shut up?''

''I'm sorry, I'm trying -'', you stutter, but just end up coughing more. He doesn't wait for you to stop.

''Get out of here.'', and pushes you away. You stumble down the pile of bones and fall, landing on your hands and knees. You don't remember him being this cruel to you in a long time. You look back at him with teary eyes, and he looks back like the merciless monster he is. The villagers awaiting him moved to make space for your fall, taking note of the tense situation.

That day, Sukuna sends word that he doesn't want to see you until you get better. You're forbidden from going outside again, in fear that that is making your 'cold' worse. It's a lonely week in your room, until Sukuna starts to crave you again. It didn't take him a while, counting the couple days he spent convincing himself he doesn't miss you. He does. So when he sends word for you again, and the servants come back to him saying you're still not feeling well... he's worried. So worried he comes to see it for himself.

Sukuna rarely comes to your room. It's the only space you have for yourself, and he doesn't want to take that away from you. Your room is modest. You have a bed, a carpet, and a couple shelves to house the books he's gifted you. There's a desk where you can eat and read, and a doorway to the garden. There's an empty glass of water and a napkin next to your bed. You're still sleeping, but the door shutting behind him wakes you up, so he doesn't get to enjoy observing you in your natural habitat for long.

It's not the first time doors opening and closing woke you up. But you know this time is different. The servants are always quickly shuffling around the room, cleaning up and moving around. Uraume clanks with plates. There is no noise now, other than your strained breathing and a cough brewing in the back of your throat. Besides, the aura that Sukuna brings with him everywhere he goes is recognizable. Especially to you. Heavy.

You turn around, and meet the gaze of his four eyes. ''Master...'', you struggle to sit up, and even a little action like that has spots forming in your vision. Then a coughing fit hits you. You pick up the napkin and put it to your mouth.

Sukuna sees your whole body strain with the effort of coughing. And when you call him master, even your voice sounds different. He knows your morning voice. He missed hearing it, but this... this is not it. You sit with your head hung low, staring at the napkin between your hands. There's a fresh splatter of blood on it. But Sukuna scares you more than the progression of your illness.

''Are you mad at me?'', you ask timidly, meeting his gaze.

''I'm concerned.", he says and sits next to you. You curl up to make space for him. "Two weeks is a long time for a frail human like you to be sick.", he looks at you, scanning your form up and down.

"I rested and drank every tea Uraume told me to!", your defense mechanism kicks in, and you start babbling.

Sukuna dismisses you with a hand and a pained facial expression. "I know.", he says. His brows are furrowed now, and he's looking at the ground, lost in thought.

You feel guilty for annoying him again. You feel guilty for the whole thing, getting sick, draining the energy it takes him to heal you, robbing him of the time with you that he deserves. Owns. He is very generous with the way he treats you, having all that in mind.

You tug on his sleeve. "I'm sorry, Master... You deserve better.", and you're sobbing again. Sukuna gives you a pathetic look, but smiles as he pulls you into his embrace.

"Silly pet. I can survive a couple weeks without your assistance.", he says, rubbing your shoulder.

You run your fingers against the back of his hand mindlessly, not knowing how to respond. Caressing his knuckles, bones, veins... feeling his nails and their sharp tips against your sensitive skin. When you bring his palm up to your lips, your kiss stains it red with blood.

-

You still sleep with Sukuna sometimes. Less frequently, only on days when you feel well enough, and those are rare. You've lost weight by now, sickness making itself visible on your body. You're sitting on his lap and clinging to your robes, scared that he won't like you as much, that you won't live up to his standards. But Sukuna's demeanor about your illness has changed, as he seemed to sense something unusual about it. He flips you over so gently, like you're made of glass, and peppers kisses from your neck downwards, slowly undressing you as much as you allow him. When he takes you, he's so careful. Constantly checking you're comfortable and enjoying yourself. You feel so loved and relaxed, and pleasure comes so easy when you're in this state. It's not the first time Sukuna is this caring with you in bed, but this time is different. This time you can't help but feel like he's saying goodbye.

He holds you afterwards, tracing his fingers over the ridges of your spine and your shoulders. You were always little in his grasp, but now that he feels your protruding bones under his fingertips, you seem all the more vulnerable.

"Will you kill me?", you ask, breaking the silence.

Sukuna frowns. "Nonsense. Why would I do that?"

There's a gulp in your throat. "It won't be long before I can't even do this. I won't be of any use to you then...", you say.

"Stop.", he says sternly. "There's a lot more to you than what you provide me with in bed."

You smile to yourself, but there's still a hole in your chest. Your statement is still true, and you aren't comforted. But this is Sukuna, and you know that he's offered you quite a lot even with that little bit of reassurance. To your surprise, he speaks again.

"Don't upset yourself. It's been a long time since killing you crossed my mind.", he says. "Save the energy for something else."

You nod and thank him. Just moments later, you're asleep. Quicker than ever before, he notes. You usually love it when he lets you cuddle and talk to him. You would force your eyes open when you were sleepy, just to enjoy it longer.

He feels guilty. He's your master, he's responsible for your well being. Yet nothing he does seems to help you long term. Healing you is temporary and he knows that without accessing the source, it will never work. If he could, he would find what was making you sick and rip it out of you with his bare hands, crush it with the force of his palm. He would have to look deeper, open you, and for once, he thinks he can't open a human being. He thinks of you trashing, screaming, and worst of all, looking into his eyes. Just the thought of you like that makes his chest feel like a gaping cavity. Worst of all, he's sure you would let him. He's sure you would forgive him for spilling your blood, and find comfort in his arms again. If you survived, that is. What has he done to you? And to himself?

Now, your head rests on his chest, and you're snoring lightly. For once, a repetitive noise like that doesn't annoy him. For once, he wishes he could listen to it every night. One day, that noise will be the only thing audibly confirming you're still alive.

-

Months pass and you're only getting worse. You barely leave your room now, too weak to even do so. You eat little, and it's showing in your sunken cheeks and eyes. You feel yourself withering away, loosing color, drying like a dying flower. Sukuna is in grief. He struggles to look at you, and visiting you falls heavy on him every time. He always finds himself thinking afterwards. Regretting that he let himself get this attached, wishing that he could simply forget you. But it doesn't work that way.

He goes to see you, after avoiding you for a week. He's Sukuna, he doesn't have any shame. You're sleeping, like you usually are when he comes to visit you. Your snoring is laboured, and it sounds painful. This time, the doors and the silence don't wake you up. He watches you, curled up under a stack of blankets, rising and falling with your struggles to breathe. How foolish he was, to think forgetting you would be as easy as avoiding you for days. How evil he was, trying to forget you while you are still alive under his wing, still his responsibility. Still his.

He sits next to you and leans over you, fingertips ghosting over your face. The snoring stops and you flutter your eyes open, turning in bed and feeling his body next to yours. You smirk at him, eyes adjusting to the light, and smile when you recognize him. ''Master.'', your arms wrap around his neck as you welcome him, your voice dry, but lively as you beckon him closer. ''I missed you.''.

He comes down to plant a kiss to your forehead. ''I missed you too, darling.''. Oh, the things that escape his mouth when he's alone with you. He cups your face, enjoying how much healthier you look with a smile on your face. ''Feeling any better?'', he rubs your cheek, lingering closely above your face.

You nod, but both of you know you only feel better because you saw him. Still, the little surge of happiness that brings you gives you more energy than you've had the whole week. You wiggle to the edge of the bed, making space and inviting him to join you. Sukuna lies down, hooking one arm underneath your neck and pulling you flush against him.

You wrap your arm around him and lean your head against his shoulder. He's still as big as you remember him, unfaltering in the face of your illness. It's comforting. ''You didn't visit in a while. Were you busy?'', you ask, stroking his back. ''How were your days?''

''Monotone.'', he says. ''The villagers bring remedies for you every day, and wish for you to get well.'' It's no wonder. So many times, Sukuna found himself hesitating to kill just because you were sitting on his knee, dressed in something too pretty to be splattered with blood. In the local villages, word spread that you have ''domesticated'' Sukuna. As if such a thing was possible. Or was it?

''Oh?'', you smile. ''I didn't think they would notice my absence.''. You always were supposed to be Sukuna's accessory and nothing more. Remedies and good wishes make it sound like you're more important than just a pet. So it really is that obvious...

''They did.'', he says, and lowers his head, brushing his nose against your face. ''Some took that as an opportunity to gift me new pets.''

You blink at him, a bit taken aback by his honesty. You keep smiling anyways. ''Did you take any?'', you ask, and he sees nothing but genuine curiosity in your eyes. The truth is, you've had a lot of time to think about your place in Sukuna's mansion. You knew, especially in sickness, that you were never entitled to exclusivity with him. You knew that at some point you would have to be replaced, just by the virtue of being a mortal. A human, who would age and become ugly, wrinkled and useless. You were just unlucky enough to meet this fate sooner than you should've.

Sukuna sighs, the weight of the conversation shifting to him. ''Not to bed, no.'', he says.

You're quiet while you think of what to say. You still have a habit of picking words when you're with Sukuna, but the times when he would punish you for improper formulation are far behind you. "Why not?", you settle. You hope the implication is there, that you wouldn't be so mad even if he did.

Why not? Because he thinks it might break him. Because the image of someone else in your place, under him, feels unnatural and wrong. He thinks the guilt might eat him alive. For once in centuries, someone else's needs come before Sukuna's. He is gone, so far gone. You've raised his standards, and he's not sure anyone he takes now will be able to live up to them. Besides, training a new pet to fit your mold would take years, and even then... He couldn't train someone to love him. Not like you do.

''I wouldn't want you to hold back because of me.'', you say, and he realizes he's been quiet for too long. Years ago, if you dared to imply that Sukuna would do such a thing as hold back because of you, that he cared, you would've been minced meat ready for dinner. Now, he looks down at you tenderly when you say it. Well, a tender look from Sukuna is a docile one. You've gotten used to the way that Sukuna communicates love. Subtly, innocuously.

''Worry about getting well, pet.'', he shuts down the conversation, and moves away from you, sitting back on the bed. ''Any wishes? Food? Activities?'', he asks, and feels your forehead with the back of his hand.

Food? No, but... ''I'd like you to stay, please.'', you say, and take his hand with the two of yours, feeling it up with your thumbs.

Sukuna resists the urge to roll his eyes, knowing the thought of annoying him would upset you greatly. ''That's a given. Anything else?''

You pretend to think, then just babble your favorite food. Sukuna takes your order to Uraume. But when he comes back, you're already asleep again. He waits by your side, but you don't wake, so eventually he leaves. By the evening, the plate of your favorite food remains untouched.

-

You can't leave the bed on your own anymore. Sukuna carries you outside when you're feeling good enough. You barely have the strength to latch onto him securely. Still, it's hard to slip out of the grasp of his four arms. He says you've gotten pale. You lay in his lap and bask in the sun, while he tells you about his day or reads a book out loud for you to enjoy. You wish you could talk to him more, but your voice leaves you as days of endless coughing wreck your throat. No herbs and teas ease your condition anymore. You wait for your final day.

And Sukuna doesn't know when he's given up on the idea that you might get better. But he starts spending whole days with you, leaving your side only to sleep in his bed. He tends to almost all your needs personally. You think that if you asked him to get on his knees for you, he would. He is not familiar with this ache that brews in his chest when he looks to his side and doesn't see you there. It feels violating. To be as powerful as he is, and yet completely helpless in the face of the sickness that drains you in front of his very eyes.

He plays with your thinning hair one morning, and you look at him from his lap, as adoringly as always. ''Isn't it funny?.'', you say, and he snaps out of his thoughts to look at you. ''I always imagined dying by your hand.'', you kiss his hand again, planting your dry, blue lips against his knuckles. ''Who would have thought?''.

You, you little human. You made him feel like a fool, like a coward. You made him feel powerless. Who could ever get away unscathed with making Sukuna feel like this? The thought of killing you now, even out of mercy, fills him with horror. He thinks he couldn't live carrying the burden of your death on his back. It's already hard for him as is.

When he's not with you, he withers away in his room, waiting. And when the servants finally come, and tell him you're at your last strengths, he feels as tense as he feels relieved. The servants shake in fear of his reaction, and he simply dismisses them. In a thousand years of his existence, he doesn't remember having to prepare to enter a room. His hand trembles as he brings it up to push the door open. He dreads what awaits him inside.

He expected blood, hysteria, chaos, yet there's none of it when he walks in. Just the pained noises of your breathing. A servant, your favorite, sits by your side and wipes sweat off your forehead. She talks to you in a comforting tone and pats your head gently. When he walks in the room, she lowers her head and moves to leave. It's only a second, but he sees the sad look on your face. ''Stay.'', he orders, and the servant bows and thanks him.

You move your attention to him, raising your hand to greet him weakly. He picks it up and bends down to kiss it. There's tears in your eyes as he settles into a seat next to you, and you open your mouth in an attempt to say something.

''Easy now.'', he shushes you, and helps you into his lap. You lean back, looking at him through a blur. His features appear even more doubled through the tears, and you still find his beauty mesmerizing. Your master. Your own little god and protector. Although he regrets it, you've never claimed the title of his spouse. Yet, he still stuck by your side, until parted by death. In sickness and in health.

He wipes your tears, and the mouth he conjures onto his hand kisses your forehead. One set of his hands caresses your face, the other massages the tension out of your bony shoulders. Sukuna knows how important it is for you to pass in peace. He doesn't want to curse you, or have despair turn you into a curse. "Relax now.", his voice is so soothing, as if lulling you to sleep. "It won't be long". You weep. What did an ordinary human like you do to deserve this honor? To be comforted on their death bed by a god. To be guided to death by him.

"Master.", you sob. "I'm so scared..."

Delicate touch against your skin. Sharp nails grazing your cheek ever so slightly, just barely enough to make their presence known. "Have no fear.", Sukuna looms over you like a snowdrop. "Where you go now, pain won't follow.". You speak to him a little longer. Tell him all the things you always wanted to tell him, but were scared of the consequences. Dangerous words, ones that were rarely associated with Sukuna. Love. And Sukuna is attentive, so human. Your blinking slows and you find comfort in his voice, as he returns every loving word back to you. Your pained breathing follows, and your eyelids are so heavy. But the sight of him is so hypnotizing, you wish you never had to look away. "You are so brave, my little dove. Go now, be free.". You were too good for this wretched palace anyways. The sight of him is etched in your memory as you close your eyes. "It was a pleasure to have you by my side.", you listen, feeling control over your body slip through your fingers. When you can't move, or feel his touch, you still hear his calm voice. "When you're ready, come back to me. I'll be waiting for your return.". Then everything is quiet, for you and for him. The servants cries are muffled by the sheets, where she has her head pressed by your side.

The hallways, silent except for the busy tapping of feet. Outside, the wind blows petals off of blooming flowers, leaving them bare and stranded. Autumn is here to carry you away.

Servants hold their breath when Sukuna walks by. One wrong look at him and the walls would be painted red. Just like before. Before you. And it's not long before Sukuna looks like a monster again - red eyes and a permanent frown etched on his face. Villagers bring bouquets, and lay them to the right of his throne, where you used to sit. He stares them all down, and only for a moment thinks that maybe, humans are not the scum he thought they were. But then he remembers, they only mourn you because you held him back from his destructive tendencies. Scum.

And he kills again. The first is a villager from afar, where news of your passing hasn't reached. Ripped to shreds for mentioning you. The women who screamed, their blood soaks the carpets and seeps through the wooden floor, dripping down to the cellars. He feels like himself again, unhinged, unbeatable.

Until the day is over, and he goes back to his empty room. His cold, empty bed, and the old habit of reaching for you in his sleep, only to grab nothing instead. And the crocheted figures of the two of you on his nightstand, watching him as he struggles to sleep alone. He can't bear it. So he leaves, and doesn't come back for days, weeks, months.

Smoke clouds the skies on the horizon once again, after years and years of peace and clarity. As far as the eye stretches, the world will know of Sukuna's wrath. But as thrilling as it feels to conquer again, when the village is burned and ash covers the grass on the ground, the thought of you still lingers. Your devastated eyes the first time he's killed before you. The first time he's felt guilty about his monstrous nature. When he comes back, no one's warm embrace awaits him. No one's there to brighten up his day. No amount of blood shed and villages burned replace the emptiness you left behind in his heart.

The grief settles, and sits heavy in Sukuna's chest, as he assumes position in his lonely throne again, and gazes at the row of people waiting to beg, talk, offer... bore him. Another eternity of boredom. An eternity of picking through thousands of humans, in vain hopes of finding you again. In vain hopes of recognizing you, even if it's lifetimes from now, when the last memory of your face has already faded from his mind. When generations change, and the thought of a monster like Sukuna being capable of tenderness vanishes. When the fire in his chest, ignited by love, is already a memory so distant, that recalling it feels surreal.

Maybe he will forget you by then. Maybe times will harden him again, and the idea of a pet becoming his lover will make him laugh. But for now, the thought of finding you in a crowd, taking you in his arms and never letting go, is his comfort and safe place. For now, he will wait for you. As long as it takes, like a stone, unyielding against the passing of time.

[imagine-you]

all the smiles that are ever gonna haunt me [Logan/Reader]

Summary: Sequel to won't somebody come take me home? and closer to where I started. Now that you've decided to put the past behind you, you're focused solely on what the future holds for you, Logan, and your family. Whether that means teaming up with the X-Men to help stop the escalated attacks around the city or sitting down for a nice dinner with Logan, Laura, and Wade, you're ready for all of it. You're so close to being completely happy until you find yourself a victim of one of the attacks and find out that someone from Logan's universe has managed to return. You never expected your new life to be easy, but you certainly never thought Logan's wife would show up and disrupt everything you had built for yourself. Word Count: 9k Author's Note: This chapter may contain: Angst, Reader Whump, Surprise Cameos, Angst, A New Villain, A Disrupted Villain Origin Story, Training Montages, Angst, A Smidge of Hope, Illusions, and…Angst. (but I swear the angst gets resolved. y'all have to trust me!! there will be a happy ending for this fic.)

When I'm With You I'm Home 'verse

won't somebody come take me home? // closer to where I started

Read on AO3

If anyone had told you while you were stuck in the Void that there was a future where you found yourself in another universe and your greatest wish had come true, then you would have chalked it up to a pipe dream and left it at that. If anyone had told you there was a future where your worst nightmare had come true, well then, that would've been easier to believe.  

"What are you making?" Laura asked, peering over your shoulder to get a look at the stove.  

"Something special," you told her, winking at her when she let out an impatient huff. "Steak and pasta," you clarified, turning your attention back to where you were spooning sauce over the steaks, hoping the flavor carried through for you.  

After getting back from your original universe, you had felt like the weight of the past had been lifted off your shoulders. You didn't give a fuck about your original Logan and as far as you were concerned, he could fuck off into whatever happy existence he wanted with Jean. Did you want them to suffer? Maybe. But it was no longer a requirement for you to heal.  

Your Logan had made sure of that.  

Now, weeks had passed, and you felt like a new person. Gone was the obsession with the past and in its place was now your excitement for the future.  

Your future with Logan and Laura and even Wade. Your future with a new family and a new team. Life hadn’t given you a moment of rest, but you were happy to know that when your back was against the wall, you had people ready to jump in and protect you from whatever hit came your way.  

All of you had spent the last couple of weeks wrapped up in the escalated attacks happening throughout the city. There weren't many indicators about who exactly was causing them. Half the time, there were explosions and other times it was just an outright slaughter.  

Logan and Wade were out trying to help the X-Men clean up the latest catastrophe. You had opted to stay home with Laura, taking a moment of well-deserved rest from running from one tragedy to the next. Logan had left you with a promise to return that evening and a kiss that hinted at more later.  

You thought it was cute how Logan kept insisting he was retired, but the first sign of trouble, and he couldn't help but jump right in. It was why you loved him, because even though he had spent years spiraling after the devastation he faced with his old life, he still couldn't help but try to make things better for others.  

You liked to think you had a little something to do with that.  

Even though you were just within reach from a perfect existence, you knew it still wasn't without its problems. You and Logan still had a lot of work to do. Both of you were still holding things close to the chest, afraid to show them and lose everything you had earned.  

Sometimes, you caught Logan simply watching you, wary and concerned, as if he thought you were about to leave him. Other times, when Logan woke in the middle of the night and reached for you, you wondered if he knew it was you or if he still held onto the memory of his wife, seeking her for comfort. Logan had been open and honest with you, but you sometimes got the feeling that he wasn't telling you everything. Some nights, when you couldn't sleep, you would lie awake and watch him, terrified that if given the chance he would leave you in a heartbeat for his old life.  

You always had the feeling like the other shoe was about to drop, so you had taken on the mentality that you were going to enjoy every day you got with him. Which was why you were hellbent on making the perfect dinner and having the perfect dessert all ready to go when he got back home. 

"Shit," you hissed when you started stirring together the ingredients for the pasta sauce. "I forgot one thing," you groaned, glancing over at Laura. "I've got to go out to grab something. Will you keep an eye on this for me? Just make sure it doesn't burn," you instructed her when Laura gifted you with a skeptical look. 

"What if it burns?" Laura wondered, reaching out to take the spoon from you when you handed it to her.  

"Then we'll order takeout," you answered with a shrug of your shoulders. "It won't be a big deal, but I still want to try to get this right," you told her, reaching out to flick her ear. 

Laura turned a glare on you, and you knew if you were anyone else, she would have already brought out her claws. You saw a fond smile take the place of her scowl before she shook her head. "Hurry," she urged you, turning a wary look at the stove.  

"Ten minutes," you promised, reaching out to grab your keys and wallet. "Just going down to the corner store." You saw Laura open her mouth and you knew what she was going to ask. "Yes, I'll get the cookies," you told her, thinking of the chocolate monstrosities she was so obsessed with lately.  

Laura grinned at you, pleased, and cautiously began to stir the sauce.  

You locked the apartment door behind you. You knew Laura was more than capable of taking care of herself and she had already been through hell and back, but you couldn't help but want to protect her in every way you could. She was still a kid, even if she would point out she was seventeen.  

You made it to the tiny market just around the corner from your apartment within four minutes. You were eager to get back and finish dinner. You couldn't wait to see the look on Logan's face when you had dinner all set up and told him that Laura even helped make it. You knew Wade would invite himself to dinner, so you would of course have extra just for him. You knew you wouldn’t be here without him, and while he drove you crazy, you now couldn’t imagine your life without him in it.  

You were a family, fucked up and weird, but full of love.  

You grabbed the cookies Laura wanted and searched for a can of black olives. You caught sight of the spices and started in that direction to see if there was anything extra you wanted to add to the sauce. You figured you had maybe five minutes to get back before Laura insisted she did everything she could to salvage dinner, but maybe you should just order pizza.  

You were reaching out to grab a bottle of parsley flakes when you noticed something pass right in front of you. You startled at the sight of the playing card, faintly glowing pink, as it sailed towards the shelves in front of you.  

You didn't even have time to prepare before the card landed and the shelves exploded. You brought your arms up, trying to shield your face from the shrapnel. The force of the blast was strong enough to throw you back into the shelves behind you. You felt your head connect with the edge of one the shelves and stars exploded in your vision.  

There was a ringing in your ears and the taste of blood in your mouth. Your head felt like it was spinning as you struggled to open your eyes, not even sure when you had closed them.  

You could hear footsteps approaching you and you managed to squint up at the person standing in front of you. Your gaze drifted from his boots to his trench coat and then up to his eyes. They were glowing a faint red.  

"Remy?" You groaned, reaching up to press a hand to your forehead. You blinked a couple of times, trying to make sense of what was going on. You looked at your fingers and they were stained red, blood coating them. Your face was stinging from the bits of shrapnel you hadn’t been able to shield yourself from and the back of your head was aching in a way you had never felt before.  

Remy crouched down in front of you. He reached out and tucked his fingers under your chin, forcing you to look at him. "Now, I know we've never met before, so how is it you know my name?" He turned your head one way and then the other, considering you for a brief moment, before he made a thoughtful noise. "Oh, but believe me, we're going to get to know each other real well, bon ami. Just you wait." His eyes were no longer glowing, but there was a devious look in them you didn't like.  

You attempted to sit up, but your vision swam and you felt like you were going to throw up. “What the hell are you doing?” You attempted to ask, but your words were slurred, and you were having a hard time concentrating on him even though he was right in front of you.  

"Let's get you home, hm?" Remy said, gathering you up in his arms. He stood, lifting you with him, and you tried to wriggle out of his hold, but he was clutching you tightly enough that you couldn’t move.  

The last thing you saw was the underside Remy's jaw and the blur of the ceiling tiles above you before darkness swept in to collect you.  

You woke to sunlight that had escaped past the curtains in your bedroom and crept right towards you. It was an unwelcome intrusion and you brought your hand up to shield your eyes.  

You groaned, forcing yourself to sit up, before squinting at your surroundings. Your head was aching, each pound of your heart sending a bolt of pain right behind your eyes. You didn’t remember drinking the night before or even crawling into bed, but it felt like the worst hangover you had ever experienced. 

"Fuck," you grumbled before forcing yourself out of bed. Logan seemed to already be up, and you wondered if he had liked your dinner the night before. There was something wrong, something off, but you didn't know what it was yet. You were having trouble thinking past the pain.  

You walked towards your bedroom door, intent on hunting down the bottle of painkillers you kept in the medicine cabinet in the bathroom. You tried to think about what happened before you fell asleep and finally your memories came back to you in a dizzying rush.  

Making dinner, leaving Laura in charge, and locking the door behind you. Going to the store, a playing card that ending in an explosion, and Remy promising to take you home.  

"I had the weirdest dream," you muttered as you stumbled out into the living room. The pain in your head spiked with every footstep and your mouth was so dry your tongue felt like it was sticking to the roof of your mouth.  

The first thing you noticed was that Logan was sitting at the kitchen table and the second was that he wasn't alone. You froze just a few feet away from the table trying to make sense of what was in front of you.  

Because Logan was there in his usual seat at the table and he had his hand outstretched over the surface. His hand was clutching the stranger's like a lifeline and he looked as if the person in front of him had just saved him from his own personal torment.  

You slowly rounded the table, a twisting feeling of dread in your gut, as you got a look at the stranger.  

It was you.  

Well, not you. She had a scar crossing one of her eyes and her hair was a different color. She carried herself with more confidence, her shoulders not slumped and head held high. She was wearing the same yellow and blue X-Men suit you first saw your Logan in when you were trapped in the Void.  

But she was still undeniably you. Just a variant you could have been in another universe.  

"What?" You felt helpless as you looked to her and then to Logan. Pain had been overtaken by confusion and now you felt like you were going to pass out for an entirely different reason. "What's going on?" 

"My wife," Logan said, finally tearing his gaze away from her to look at you. "She's back. A portal opened up last night and she walked right through it." His voice was filled with incredulous awe, and it felt like there was a knife digging into your chest. Your breath hitched and you tried to push past the feeling being carved out right where your heart resided.  

You didn't think it could get any worse until you noticed the look of pure love and adoration he gifted her. You had only ever seen that look aimed at you and seeing it given so freely to someone else had you clenching your fists at your sides, anger washing over you.  

"So, what?" You snapped, trying and failing to keep the hurt out of your tone. "She's just going to live here now? We'll all be one big happy family?" You didn't want to fight anyone for Logan's attention. Not again. Not after what happened with Jean in your other universe. You couldn't lose again. You wouldn't.  

Logan stared up at you before he finally looked back at his wife. "We're still married," he pointed out, brushing his thumb gently over the wedding ring on his wife's hand. "And she was my first love," he continued, twisting the knife deeper and deeper. "I'm sorry, but I can't leave her again." 

You watched the couple in front of you, frozen in that moment. Hurt and indecision rose within you and you felt trapped.  

"So, what does that mean for me?" Your voice sounded so small and scared that you almost didn't believe it was yours. You had never felt this way with your Logan before and you didn't know what to do.  

Logan finally tore his gaze away from his wife to look at you again.  

"I'm sorry, but now that I have her back...," he trailed off, letting you assume the rest for yourself. "You can stay until you find somewhere else to go," he offered, as if it was any consolation.  

You let out a hollow little laugh as you took a step away from him. You couldn't believe what you were hearing. Logan, after everything you had been through together, was giving you up as if you meant nothing to him. The same ache and loneliness you felt back in your original universe was descending on you again. You thought you had put those feelings behind you, but now you were having to confront them again in the worst way.  

Because this Logan had loved you like the other one never had and this one had promised never to hurt you. But here he was, crushing any hope you had that this Logan would be different.  

You forced yourself to turn around, putting your back to them. You couldn't stand to look at them anymore.  

You were faced with Laura standing there in the doorway of the apartment. She was silent, watching you, and you had a sinking feeling in your gut that told you this wouldn't go your way either.  

"Laura, I--," you started as you approached her, not even sure where you would end up. "Do you want to come with me?" Was what you settled on, because evidently you couldn't stay here. You had been through so much with Laura. You had survived the Void together and fought together just to survive. Surely, that had to mean something to her. ‘Don’t leave me all alone,’ was what you wanted to beg, but you didn’t want Logan to have the satisfaction of seeing you brought down to your lowest point.  

Laura took a few steps forward and you wondered if she would meet you in the middle. Instead, she walked past you and stood at the table, joining Logan and his wife. "I can't lose him again," Laura said, echoing your thoughts. Except, Laura could stay and you had to go.  

You saw Logan's wife, the other you, the one he was choosing over you, reach out to flick Laura's ear. Instead of snapping at her, Laura turned a fond, soft smile on the other you and you felt another piece of your heart break.  

That was your thing with Laura and that should have been your smile. Logan's wife had swept in and cleared you out, leaving no room for you.  

You could feel the fight or flight instinct rising within you and you chose to get the hell out of there. It wasn't your home anymore, because someone had filled your role. You were no longer needed.  

You didn't even know where you were going to go, but you somehow found yourself right at Wade's doorstep. You brought your hand up to knock, terror and despair coursing through you.  

Wade answered the door in a suit and tie. You would have asked him what the hell was going on, but he didn't give you a chance to talk. He leaned on the doorframe, considering you with a grimace. "I thought you'd show up here after you found out." 

"You know?" You weren't sure why it felt like such a betrayal, but you always thought Wade would have had your back. Why didn't he track you down and warn you? Why had no one just given you some kind of heads up that you would be completely ousted from the life you had built for yourself with Logan? 

"Sure do, baby bird," Wade confirmed with a quick nod of his head. There was something off in his tone. This didn't feel like the same Wade you had come to know and reluctantly love. This almost felt like a stranger wearing a Wade mask. "I was there when she showed up. Just walked right out of that portal and into Logan's arms like she hasn't been dead for the past who knows how long." 

You hated that you could picture that perfectly, as if Wade's memory was playing out in your head.  

"Yeah, well, it looks like I'm not needed anymore now that he has who he really wants." You felt like an idiot for ever thinking you were more than just a placeholder for Logan's wife. You didn't want to cry in front of Wade, but you could feel the sting of tears in your eyes.  

Wade tilted his head to the side, watching you with an intensity that was almost unnerving. "So, what are you gonna do now?" 

"Can I stay here?" You tried, knowing that you couldn't go back to your apartment. You didn't want to ever step foot in there again, knowing that the bright, happy memories you had created were now tainted with misery.  

Wade brought his foot back, kicking the door to his apartment open enough for you to see Vanessa seated at the table. "No can do," Wade answered with a wince. "You see, I'm trying to win her back over and I'm already sharing a one bedroom apartment with Blind Al, so it's a little cramped around here. But hey, if you join the X-Men, it usually comes with free room and board. They'll take anyone," he got out on a laugh, before he waved his hand. "Well, except for me. You shoot one person," he lamented, shaking his head in disappointment. "Or, hey, I hear Love Island is casting. Might be time to find you a new boo." 

"So," you started, trying to reconcile the fact that you no longer had a home with Logan and now you couldn't find one either with Wade. "I can't stay here," you said, and it was no longer a question, it was just a fact of your new lonely, pathetic existence. 

There was something so off about everything that had happened that day and you were trying to make sense of all of it. You had just spent the night before making a special dinner for your family and now you didn't even have one.  

Everything was happening so fast that you felt like you weren’t even really processing it. Why hadn’t you just stayed at the apartment and fought for Logan? This was your life. Your home, your family, your love. Why were you just giving it all up so easily? You didn’t understand, but now you weren’t even sure you would be able to force yourself to go back. 

"No," Wade admitted, with a sheepish grin. "It's not only Vanessa, you see, but Logan. I mean, Deadpool and Wolverine are a package deal now. There's no breaking up that superhero wet dream team and if I'm harboring his ex? Then that'll just make it more awkward than the time I used his toothbrush on Dogpool. Trust me, he made me regret that one. There are some places those claws of his should not go," he warned with a shudder.  

Hearing Wade refer to you as Logan's ex broke something inside you. You could feel hurt begin to overwhelm you, swiftly replaced by anger. You let out a short, sharp scream of frustration. You didn't even realize you had formed a forcefield around you and pushed out with it until you realized Wade had been knocked several steps back.  

"Y/N--" Wade started, but you turned away from him.  

You didn't want to be placated and you didn't want to deal with anymore of Wade's nonsense. You let yourself go invisible, knowing that it was the only way you would feel safe now.  

You wandered around the neighborhood for hours, trying to figure out where you belonged. You trudged from street to street before unerringly finding your way back to your apartment complex once night fell. You didn't dare go inside, but you stayed out on the sidewalk. People passed by you, never knowing you were even there, and you kept your gaze up on the window that shone brightest in the dark.  

Logan was up there. He was with his wife and Laura and they were a family in their home enjoying a night together. You were no one with nothing and no home to share with anyone. 

You weren't sure why you stayed there for so long, but you thought it had something to do with hope and an inane wish that he would come downstairs and tell you it was all some sick joke. You thought of his promise that he would always find you, even when you were hidden, but that hadn't been true either.  

Logan was happy without you, because he had what he really wanted all along. So, why would he come find you when he didn't even need you anymore? 

Or worse, Logan knew you were down here and just didn't care about you anymore.  

With that revelation, you turned and walked away. There was a swirling mess of thoughts stuck in your head that dredged up the same old insecurities you thought you had shed once and for all.  

You would never be good enough. You were unloved. You didn't matter. You weren't worth anything. 

You had no one.  

You felt tears slide down your cheeks as you aimlessly roamed from place to place. You next found yourself outside the X-Mansion, wondering if you should take Wade's advice and join up with the X-Men. As much as you longed to feel like you belonged somewhere, you didn't think you could go back to saving people with a smile on your face like you weren't slowly withering inside.  

There was a whisper of your name on the air. You glanced over your shoulder, looking to see who called your name, but you found no one. It had been so faint that you might have imagined it, but there was a feeling, an electrified touch, that had briefly set your nerves alight.  

You weren't sure what time it was, but you were exhausted. You found it pathetic and sad that you didn't have anywhere to go. You didn't even have money for a hotel room. All you could think to do was find a park and drop down onto a bench. At the very least, you knew you could protect yourself if anyone tried to attack you.  

You formed a forcefield around you, ignoring the fact that it would only slip away while you slept, and let yourself drift away.  

When you woke, you weren't alone. You jolted in place, suddenly wide awake, and scrambled to sit up. On the bench across from yours, a man was sitting reading a newspaper.  

He quirked an eyebrow at you when he realized he had your attention.  

"I was wondering when you would wake up," he said, lowering the newspaper.  

He had dark eyes and darker hair. He wore a suit with a black trench coat, but the illusion of a businessman was ruined by the combat boots he was wearing. His skin was pale and there was a faint ring of red around his eyes that had you wondering if he was wearing makeup. His appearance, oddly enough, seemed false, but the grin on his face was genuine, if a bit unsettling.  

"Were you watching me?" You couldn't help but wonder, half-torn between becoming invisible to make your escape and staying to get answers.  

"Yes," he answered, unashamed by his actions. "I thought it fascinating that someone would let you stay out here all alone. You don't deserve that, so I stayed to keep watch over you." 

You wanted to tell him you could take care of yourself, but you didn't feel so sure about that anymore. The reminder of your loneliness crept up on you and you could feel doubt settle over you. You were on your own now without a team. No one was going to come save you if you found yourself in trouble. You would simply have to claw your own way out.  

"What's your name?" You decided to ask instead, studying him from across the small concrete path that separated you.  

"Nathaniel," he introduced himself with a smile. "And you are?" 

"Y/N," you returned, with a half-hearted wave.  

"Now, I know we just met, but I do have one thing on my mind," Nathaniel started, leaning in towards you after placing his newspaper on the bench beside him. "What on earth are you doing out here all by yourself?" 

You felt your lips twist to the side in a frown as you bit down on the side of your mouth to keep a lid on the emotions that threatened to boil over at the reminder of the previous day. "I--," you cut yourself off, not sure how to phrase your situation to a stranger without making it seem as if you had completely lost your mind. "I lost my home yesterday," you settled on with a grimace. "My family kicked me out." 

Nathaniel made a sympathetic noise before he stood up. "May I?" He asked, gesturing towards your bench. 

You shrugged your shoulders in answer but moved over to leave him enough space to sit down beside you.  

"In my experience, family is a fickle thing," Nathaniel continued once he was at your side. "People come and go, but you have to be able to stand by yourself and forge your own path once it all falls apart." 

"I don't know if I can do that this time," you whispered, ashamed to admit that you were on the brink of losing whatever control over your emotions you had managed since waking up.  

Nathaniel turned so he could watch you. It was a bit unnerving, but you figured you had no one else for company. A smirk tugged at his lips as he studied you. "You're a fighter," he assured you.  

"Oh?" You wondered, returning his stare. "And how would you know that?" 

His smirk was still in place as he tapped his temple. "I'm psychic," he proclaimed, holding up his fingers and waving them before imitating a ghostly wail.  

You couldn't help the laugh that escaped you and it felt so wrong.  

"There we go," Nathaniel murmured with a pleased smile. "Look, I know you don't know me, but how about a drink? Coffee?" He prompted, moving to stand and holding out a hand to you.  

You didn't want to wallow in your misery on the park bench all by yourself and you figured Nathaniel made a decent enough distraction. "You're paying," you told him, reluctantly grabbing his hand and letting him help you up. "Only because I don't have any money." 

Nathaniel laughed, the sound briefly jarring to you, and cocked his head to the side. "In that case, I'll buy you breakfast too." 

You found yourself in a diner booth sitting across from Nathaniel. He offered to buy you whatever you wanted, but you settled for a cup of coffee and a stack of pancakes. You weren't all that hungry and you couldn't get your mind off Logan. You wondered what he was doing right at that moment and then you dashed the thought. He was probably happy with his wife and Laura and had forgotten all about you.  

"Hey," Nathaniel called, getting your attention. "Where did you go?" 

You shook your head, biting your lip to distract yourself.  

"Thinking about your family?" He prompted, shooting you a wary look. "I know I'm a stranger and it's none of my business, but do you want to tell me what happened? Maybe I can offer some perspective." 

You scowled down at your pancakes, pushing them halfheartedly around the plate with a fork. You glanced around the diner, spotting a blonde woman wearing a white suit watching you curiously from a booth not far from yours. You shook your head at Nathaniel, not wanting anyone to overhear you.  

"Let's get out of here," you told him, pushing yourself out of the booth. "I could use a walk to clear my head." 

"Alright," Nathaniel readily agreed, standing as well. While he placed a twenty on the table, you made for the door.  

There was that whisper again in the air that had you looking over your shoulder. Someone was calling your name, but you didn't see anyone you recognized. No one was even looking at you except for Nathaniel who was slowly approaching you.  

"You okay?" Nathaniel interrupted, stealing your attention away.  

"Yeah," you muttered, briefly nodding your head. "Just c'mon," you said, barely waiting for Nathaniel to follow you before you pushed through the door and walked outside.  

You didn't think you would be able to confide in a total stranger, but there was something strangely freeing about unloading all the burdens on your mind to someone who didn't know anything about you. You even managed to drop the mutant bomb on him and were surprised when Nathaniel only took it in stride, as if he had expected all along you weren’t quite normal. He mostly seemed focused on what you told him about your family and how you lost them all in one fell swoop.  

"Sounds like you're better off without them," Nathaniel mused. "Anyone who would let you go like that is an idiot." 

"Maybe," you begrudgingly agreed. You didn't think it was possible, but Nathaniel had managed to make you feel better. Maybe letting out all your worries had briefly unburdened you. Or maybe since you lost everyone, you had been desperate to hear someone tell you it wasn’t your fault.  

"They're all ungrateful idiots," Nathaniel continued. "You're special," he told you. "And you deserve more." 

His tone brooked no argument, but you were a little thrown off by how serious he seemed.  

"I don't know what I'm going to do now," you deflected, scowling down at your hands. "I don't have anyone or anywhere to go. And I've just spent the day with a stranger telling him my whole pathetic sob story." 

"I'm not a stranger anymore," Nathaniel offered with a grin. "You know my name and everything." 

"I know literally nothing else about you," you pointed out. You were starting to feel apprehensive about trusting someone you didn't even know. Your head was beginning to hurt and you could feel your hands trembling. You weren't sure why panic had hit you all at once, but you could feel your heart beating overtime in your chest and a cold sweat begin to break out along your skin. You were beginning to hyperventilate, confused and overwhelmed, when Nathaniel took you by the shoulders and forced you to look into his eyes.  

"Hey, it's all going to be okay. Just trust me, alright? Y/N, you with me?"  

You tried to focus on Nathaniel, but there was a ringing in your ears and you swore someone else was trying to get your attention. You shook your head, trying to keep yourself from falling right into a spiral. You forced yourself to take slow, deep breaths, realizing that Nathaniel was also taking them, trying to coach you through your anxiety attack.  

You closed your eyes once you finally felt like you could stand on your own two feet without freaking out. You took a moment to center yourself before allowing yourself to open your eyes again.  

"Thanks," you whispered, nodding at him when he shot you a skeptical look. "I'm fine. I'll be fine," you claimed, even though you knew it was a lie. You were tired of loving and losing. Your heart ached for Logan and you knew that you would never recover from losing him. But Nathaniel, odd as he was, had managed to help you feel like maybe you didn't have to spend the rest of your existence completely alone.  

"I know you will," Nathaniel confirmed with another one of his smiles. "Because you're coming home with me." 

You stared at Nathaniel, waiting for the punchline, but it never came. "I could be a serial killer," you warned him with a scoff. "And you're inviting me into your home?" 

Nathaniel shrugged his shoulders, a smirk on his face. "I'm not scared of you." 

He sounded so sure of himself that you couldn't help the disbelieving laugh that escaped you. "You're completely insane, aren't you?" 

"So, is that a yes?" Nathaniel wondered, holding his hand out to you and waiting for you to take it. "Will you join me?" 

You stared down at his hand for a beat too long to be socially acceptable. It felt like you were about to make a deal with the devil, but Nathaniel had been nothing but kind. He had given you a shoulder to cry on and was now giving you a place to go so you wouldn’t have to spend another night on a park bench. 

You knew it was probably a bad idea, but you still found yourself reaching out to take his hand.  

"Okay," you reluctantly agreed. "I'll go with you." 

You thought it would be weird once you found yourself in Nathaniel's apartment, but it felt oddly familiar. He had a guest room that he had designated as yours and made sure you could take whatever you wanted from the fridge. You didn't know how to return his kindness, but you knew you would have to find a way.  

Nathaniel had gone out to get dinner while you waited on his couch, idly flipping through channels. You were starting to doze off, exhausted, when you heard someone calling for you.  

You squinted at the television, wondering if you were hearing things, when it happened again. You had stopped on a news report, catching sight of the woman from the diner. You assumed she was a news anchor, but the way she was looking at the camera gave you the eerie sensation that she was somehow actually watching you. When her gaze drifted over, as if looking at someone behind you, you rushed to turn off the television. 

You cautiously glanced over your shoulder, half-expecting to see someone standing there. But you were alone.  

 “Y/N,” the voice called again. It was faint, like they were outside, but close enough for you to hear.  

“What the fuck is happening?” You growled, growing frustrated. “Where are you?” 

You stood, wondering if you should go looking for whoever was trying to reach you, when Nathaniel walked into the apartment. He held up the bag of takeout and nodded towards the kitchen table.  

"Ready to eat?" 

Time dragged on as days and weeks passed. You still thought of Logan practically every waking moment, but Nathaniel had done his best to distract you.  

You were grateful for him, because you didn't know how you would have lived without someone there to fill the void in your life.  

You weren't sure what day it was or even how long had passed since you last saw Logan, but you knew that you had started to heal.  

"Sometimes," Nathaniel told you once you voiced that thought to him. "You have to let something break so you can piece it back together to get something new. To get what you truly want. What is it that you want, Y/N?" Nathaniel studied you with the same unnerving intensity he always did and you hated to admit that you were finding it less weird each time it happened.  

Logan was the first thought that came to your mind. You wanted Logan and you wanted your home and you wanted your family. You wanted to show Laura how to cook and you wanted to follow Wade into crazy situations, knowing that he would have your back just like you had his back. You wanted to crawl into bed with Logan at the end of each day knowing that you were wanted and cherished.  

Nathaniel made a disappointed noise before he shook his head. "There's no going back," he told you "I'm sorry, but it's just not going to happen." 

You didn't like the way he sounded so sure of himself. Nathaniel didn't know Logan and he didn't even really know you. You had spent weeks with him, but years of your life had been devoted to a Logan. Your Logan had been better, you knew it, so maybe you were the one who wasn't worthy.  

Nathaniel made a tsking noise before he reached out. He wrapped his hand lightly along the underside of your jaw, his thumb pressed to the other side of your neck over your pulse point. He considered you for a long moment, as if he was searching for something.  

"He left you," Nathaniel reminded you, as if it hadn't been eating you up inside since it happened. "You are special. You deserve to be cherished," he continued, and you started to worry about the potentially romantic direction he was going with his lecture. A brief smile flitted across his face, as if he could read your mind, before his expression slipped back towards something more serious. "You're lost and you're broken," he added, gently sweeping his thumb over your pulse point. "Let me put the pieces back together." 

You weren't even sure if you trusted Nathaniel, but you had spent so long hurting that you were tempted to say yes.  

You suddenly felt like someone had brushed their hand over the back of your head and you heard someone call your name. It was the same voice as before and you knew better than to look for someone you wouldn't find. But Nathaniel's eyes strayed just over your shoulder, as if he had heard it too. There was a brief flicker of irritation on his face before he gifted you with a sincere smile.  

"I've got you," he promised. "No one is ever going to get near you again." 

"Okay," you finally agreed, if only because you were curious about what he had in mind. You also couldn't deny that you were just so desperate to not fall back into that desolate pit of isolation you had begun to dig for yourself. Nathaniel saw you and he wanted you. There wasn't much else you felt like you could ask for now.  

And if Nathaniel's sharp smile sent a shiver through you for all the wrong reasons, then you were the only one who had to know about that.  

Nathaniel seemed insistent that in order to move on, you would have to make yourself stronger. To him, that seemed to mean training day and night, improving upon your power in new and terrifying ways.  

You spent hours, days, weeks, stretching the limits of your power. Your power had always been meant as a defense, to protect and contain, but now you wanted to wield it as a weapon.  

Your progress felt excruciatingly slow, but you had to admit that you were pleased with the results. It started simple enough with just a thought. You wanted your forcefields to hurt. The barriers you would have erected to protect yourself should also be used to hurt anyone who dared get too close.   

Nathaniel had rented out an abandoned location in a strip mall and set up targets for you to use. More often than not, he was watching you, as if he was waiting for something. Other times, he seemed content to leave you alone, trusting you would have something new to show him when he returned.  

You practiced on the targets, first forming forcefields around your fists and breaking anything that stood in your way. Nothing held up to them and you started growing bored of that tactic. You started to think that if you could form a forcefield, then it could be any shape you wanted. Spikes, swords, knives all began to adorn the edges of your forcefields, facing out and ready to maim anything that was in the way.  

Nathaniel seemed eager when you first formed a forcefield that was outlined with spikes and used it to repeatedly stab holes into the brick fence that lined the back of the property. You were sure he was never going to get his deposit back, but he didn't even seem to care. He only encouraged you to think bigger and do more.  

With time, you were even able to produce two forcefields at once. It was exhausting and drained all your energy, but you liked the idea of protecting yourself while also using a different forcefield to hurt an attacker. From there, it was only natural to think of taking a forcefield, forming it around an enemy, and turning the projected spikes inward, letting them impale your target without a way to escape.  

You felt stronger and invulnerable. You had never thought to test your power like this, and the feeling was nearly intoxicating. Logan and Laura and Wade were still on your mind, but now you knew that you didn’t need them. Like Nathaniel told you, you could stand on your own and forge your own path ahead.  

No one would hold you back now.  

The first time you felt the full force of your own power was when Nathaniel was taunting you into a reaction.  

"He doesn't care about you anymore. He's moved on with the true love of his life and you are nothing to him. You don't need him anymore. You can show him that you're better off without him." 

There were targets surrounding you, but you didn't care about them. All you could think about was Logan and the stupid lovelorn look on his face as he looked at his wife. He looked like he had been saved. Saved from you and whatever pathetic existence he was ready to settle for in her absence. You deserved better and you wanted to rip that stupid look right off his face. You wanted to make him and her regret it.  

You let out a scream of frustration, punching out with your forcefield at one of the targets, but it got carried away from you. All the targets snapped back, taken out at once from the blast. It carried farther out, nearly ripping the door off its hinges and shattering the front windows.  

You looked at Nathaniel, where he was splayed on the floor, staring up at you in awe.  

"You did it," he praised as he began to push himself to his feet. You crossed over towards him, holding out your hand to help get him up off the floor. “I knew you could do it.” 

"What was that?" You wondered, breathless and ecstatic. Your power had never quite felt like that before. You wanted to try it again, the rush of it addicting. If you could hone that and strengthen it, then you could use it on multiple enemies at once. You could become nearly unstoppable.   

"A repulsion field," Nathaniel answered, reaching out to rest a hand on your shoulder. "With time, I expect you'll be able to direct it and control it. You’ll be able to take out a whole city if you want." 

"Shit," you breathed, still shocked that you had managed something like that. "I didn't think I could use my power in that way. It was...exciting," you decided with a grin at Nathaniel.  

"I told you that you're special," he reminded you. "I knew you had that in you all along." 

"Thank you," you found yourself saying. You considered the targets on the floor and wondered if there would be any more use in them.  

"I have extras," Nathaniel assured you. "Want to try again?" 

You felt a pleased little thrill shoot through you at the thought. "Fuck yes," you answered.  

A week passed since you found out about the extra perk your power allowed you. You felt more confident and assured of yourself. Gone was the self-doubt and in its place was a feeling that you could defeat anyone or anything.  

You were walking to the store with Nathaniel, thinking about what you might want to make for dinner. Nathaniel was being unusually quiet and leaving you alone to your thoughts. You wondered if something was wrong, but then you spotted her.  

It was you. The other you. She was alone. No Logan or Laura or Wade in her vicinity.  

You couldn't help the way you froze on the sidewalk or the fury that rose up swiftly enough you felt nearly sick with it.  

She was to blame for everything. She had stolen your life away from you and now she got to be happy while you spent the rest of your life wanting someone you would never have again.  

"Is that her?" Nathaniel asked, rounding back to standing at your side. "The one who stole your life from you?" 

You nodded your head, attempting to keep a lid on your anger.  

"Why don't you make her regret it?" 

The idea was so simple, but so damn tempting. You could just imagine the look on her face when she realized she was incredibly outmatched now. You could destroy her within seconds and she would never be able to stop you. 

You knew it wasn't something you should entertain. You had lived your whole life as a hero. There was a line you would have never dared to cross before but after everything that had happened, you were starting to realize that line was blurred beyond recognition. As far as you were concerned, she had stolen your life from you, and it was only right that she realized what a mistake that had been.  

"You're better than her now. Stronger," Nathaniel continued, leaning in closer to you. "She can't do half of what you can. Show her what you've learned." 

"I don't know," you tried to deflect. You wanted your revenge, but there was still a tiny voice in your head saying it wasn’t right. It wasn’t what you were supposed to do. 

"Aren't you tired?" Nathaniel hissed, his hand coming up to clutch your shoulder in a near-painful grip. "Tired of being the doormat. The hero. The martyr. Don't let them get away with it. Don't let her walk away." 

You didn't even realize you had made up your mind until you were walking up to the other you. She was checking out a display of plants that had been left outside of the market for customers to choose, but she seemed to sense your approach, because she turned to consider you.  

You weren't sure what she saw when she looked at you, but her eyes went wide with fear, and she immediately pulled up a forcefield. You stalked forward, intent on your target. You didn't care if anyone was watching, because you felt like you were completely justified in your actions.  

You passed right through her forcefield and pushed her back. She fell to the ground, staring up at you in terror. You pulled your fist back, forming your own forcefield around it. You let spikes form along the outside facing towards her. All you had to do was bring it down onto her face. It would be a killing blow, and you would never have to think about her again. Logan would lose the love of his life, but maybe he would come back to you. Maybe you could return to him stronger, better, and without any more competition.  

For a moment, as you looked right into her face, it was like gazing into a mirror. The scar was gone, her hair was the same as yours, and you were wearing similar clothes. She looked just like you.  

You were convinced that she was you.  

And that made you pull back, horrified at what you had almost done.  

Her eyes were closed, ready for a blow that you weren't capable of dealing any longer.  

"I'm sorry," you whispered before stepping away, propelling yourself right out of her forcefield.  

"Y/N?" Nathaniel called, pulling your attention towards him. "What are you doing? She's right there. Kill her," he demanded, his lips pulling back in a sneer.  

You shook your head, feeling something indescribable but ultimately terrified swell within you. What had you become? What had Nathaniel done to you? You had let him so far into your head that you had almost done something unspeakable.  

You made yourself go invisible before you took off running. You didn't know where you were going or where you would even hide, but you knew that you needed to get away from Nathaniel. He had pushed you to do more, be more, and you had never once stopped to think about which road you were heading down and whether it would lead you right to the point of no return.  

You could hear Nathaniel yelling for you to stop and come back, but you didn't listen. You wanted to get away from him and just think. It felt like you had let him take up residence in your head and now you wanted to figure out how the hell to evict him.  

You ran until you felt like you were going to collapse. You finally stopped outside of a library. You rushed inside, catching a glimpse of the news anchor flipping through a book as you went right for the back corner.  Two bookshelves met there and you sank right to the floor in front of them. You dropped your head into your hands and forced yourself to take deep breaths.  

"Y/N," you heard someone call. It wasn't Nathaniel and it wasn't anyone else you immediately recognized. But it was familiar. They had been trying to get your attention all along.  

"What," you snapped, already feeling like you were on the verge of crumbling. Nathaniel had been right that you were broken, but who was going to put the pieces back together this time? It felt like Nathaniel had managed to piece them back together all wrong and you didn't even feel like yourself anymore.  

"Y/N," the voice called again.  

You closed your eyes and focused on the voice. You reached out for it, desperate for any sort of lifeline. It was a spark right at the back of your mind. You rushed to meet it, eager to figure out who had been trying to talk to you.  

"My name is Charles Xavier."  

You startled, nearly letting the tenuous connection between you and Charles drop, but finally throwing everything you had towards it.  

"This world is a lie," Charles continued once he realized you could hear him. "Do not let him break you. They're coming to find you." 

"Who?" You couldn't help but ask, hope and fear clashing inside you, threatening to overwhelm you.  

"A rather odd group of saviors," Charles answered, a hint of amusement clear in his words. "But stay strong and do what you can to break free of his hold. He has a way to keep me out, so once he finds you, I’m afraid I won’t be much help to you. Just hold on until they get there." 

You didn't know how you were going to get yourself out. You were starting to think it was hopeless, because you hadn’t even realized you were trapped in the first place. The more you thought about it, though, the more obvious it became that something had been wrong since the morning you woke up and Logan’s wife was sitting in your kitchen. The fact that she had come back from the dead, Logan’s quick dismissal of you, Laura and Wade both turning their backs on you. Nathaniel’s convenient timing and the way he watched you as if you were nothing more than an experiment for him. A pet mutant he could poke and prod and play with while you were none the wiser.   

“Who’s coming to find me?” You didn’t dare to assume that you were worth the rescue, but you couldn’t help yourself. You had to know. You had to hold onto the one little spark of hope you could feel burning defiantly inside you.  

For one terrifying moment, your mind was still, and you felt crushingly alone. Just when you thought you had been abandoned, Charles left you with one final word.  

"Logan." 

Author's Note: There will be a fourth chapter! Did I have you going for a while there? I felt so evil writing this. I truly did. If you liked this, please let me know. Not to sound needy, but comments/reblogs/etc. literally fuel me to write more and inspire me so much to keep coming up with fun stuff. Thank you to everyone who has shown this series any support! Also, if you would like to be added/removed from the taglist, just let me know!

Taglist: @wonderfrost @mrsyixingunicorn10 @blackbleedingrose @arrozyfrijoles23 @elianamarie-blog

@sarahskywalker-amidala @whiskytoast @shizzybarnaclee @zbeez-outlet @halepack2011

@facelessfionna @i-left-my-cat-on-the-stove @whyam1heree @serendippindots @janilovecookies

@lollipopsandstuff @4ria790 @jtthompson @id-rather-be-in-middle-earth @the-gentle-spirit

@hazel2928 @gothicknightz @mkay33 @bibblesdiscordkitten @albionfay

@songwizard @kailera @zeeader @amandarobertsboyce @shilohh28

@astudyoftimeywimeystuff

[reidmania]

soon, you'll get better | s. reid

summary; when spencer decides to get help for his addiction, you are right by his side the entire time, even when you are both more scared than you’ll admit.

warnings; fem!reader, early seasons spencer (s2) mentions of addiction, withdrawals, getting help, hurt x comfort, its kinda really fluffy though, mentions of tobias hankel, references possible overdosing, (nobody overdoses, reader is just afraid of it happening) this is comfort, pure spencer comfort tbh.

an; heart BROKEN guys. this one hurt. remember you are not alone.

'I'll paint the kitchen neon, I'll brighten up the sky, I know I'll never get it, there's not a day that I won't try. And I'll say to you, soon you'll get better, soon you'll get better, you'll get better soon, 'cause you have to. And I hate to make this all about me but who am i supposed to talk to? What am i supposed to do, if theres no you?'

You sit beside him, your hand resting gently on his, feeling the tension pulsing through his skin. Spencer's fingers twitch, as though his body is having a silent argument with itself—one part of him wants to hold on to you, to feel your comfort, and the other part is restless, needing something more than your touch can provide. You know what that something is. It’s been between the two of you for weeks now, an unspoken weight that has grown heavier with each passing day.

The hospital waiting room is quiet, but inside your head, it feels deafening. Your eyes flicker to the clock on the wall. The seconds drag on, and you know he feels every single one of them. You squeeze his hand lightly, drawing his attention back to you. His eyes meet yours, wide and anxious, a storm of emotions swirling in their depths. You see it all—the fear, the shame, the self-loathing. But beyond that, buried underneath, you still see the man you love.

"You're doing the right thing," you whisper, your voice soft, barely louder than the ticking clock.

He swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. His lips part, but no words come out. You don’t push him. You’ve learned that sometimes, silence is safer for him. His mind is always moving, always analyzing, always thinking ten steps ahead, but right now, he’s fragile. His brilliance can’t help him here. And that’s what scares him the most.

You lean in, pressing your forehead against his, grounding him in the moment. “I’m so proud of you,” you say, and you feel him exhale, just slightly. The warmth of his breath touches your lips, and for a brief second, you feel that connection again—the one that always makes you believe everything will be okay, as long as you're together.

It was difficult, sitting here and pretending like you weren’t scared. You were, you wondered if you had a right to be scared. Spencer was the love of your life, you had never once questioned that — and seeing him like this, well it wasn’t easy. Being here, wasn’t easy.

Spencer closes his eyes, a shudder running through his body. He grips your hand tighter, the pressure almost painful, but you don’t pull away. You want him to know you’re here, that you’re not going anywhere. Not now. Not ever.

A nurse walks by, and Spencer's eyes snap open, his body stiffening. You can feel his heart rate spike, the anxiety flaring up again.

“I can’t,” he mutters, shaking his head. His voice is tight, strangled, like he’s holding back something that threatens to choke him.

“Yes, you can,” you reply gently, running your thumb over his knuckles in slow, soothing circles. “Please.”

It was a plea, a genuine plea. You tried to be strong for his sake, he needed someone. You were his person, you would always be. But he was also your person — and the idea that if he didn’t get help you could lose him one way or another terrified you. It caused a genuine ache in your chest at just the thought of him not being him, or not being around at all. You couldn’t lose him, not at the hands of tobias hankel.

He stares at you, searching your face for something—maybe reassurance, maybe strength. You aren’t sure if he finds it, but he nods, his breath coming out in shaky bursts.

The doctor calls his name. The sound makes him flinch, and for a moment, you think he might bolt. You can see it in his posture, the way his muscles tense, his body preparing to flee. But then your hand tightens around his, and he looks at you again. And you know he’s staying because of you.

Together, you stand, and you walk beside him as he follows the doctor into the office. His steps are slow, reluctant, but each one is a small victory. When you sit down in the small room, the doctor’s eyes flicker between the two of you—taking in Spencer’s pale, trembling form and the way you hold onto him as if he might disappear.

The doctor speaks softly, his voice calm and measured. You hear him explain the treatment plan, the options for managing withdrawal, the therapy that Spencer will need. It all sounds clinical, distant, like the words are coming from a place Spencer can’t quite reach.

You glance at him, watching the way his jaw clenches and unclenches, the way his eyes dart around the room, not settling on anything for too long. His mind is miles away, you can tell. But you’re here, anchored in this moment for both of you.

“Spence,” you say softly, turning to face him. He doesn’t respond at first, lost in the cacophony of his own thoughts. So, you reach out, brushing your fingers against his cheek. His eyes snap back to you, and you see the vulnerability in them, the sheer weight of everything he’s been carrying.

“We’ll take it one step at a time,” you remind him. “We’ll get through this. Together.”

His lower lip trembles, and for a second, you think he might cry. But he doesn’t. Spencer’s never been one to break easily, even when he should. You wish he would sometimes, just so he wouldn’t have to hold it all inside.

The doctor gives you both a moment, stepping out of the room to let the words sink in. Spencer drops his head into his hands, his shoulders slumping as though the world is pressing down on him with all its weight.

“I don’t deserve you,” he whispers, his voice barely audible.

You scoot closer, pulling him into your arms, cradling his head against your chest. His body relaxes, just a little, as if the touch of your skin can quiet the chaos in his mind.

“You deserve everything good in this world,” you tell him, stroking his hair gently. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

“I’m broken,” he breathes, the words thick with self-reproach.

You shake your head, holding him tighter. “You’re not broken, Spence. You’re just…hurting. And that’s okay. You’ll get better. You have to.”

Maybe it was a plea, maybe reassurance, you weren’t even sure. Spencer was single handedly the strongest person you knew, he didn’t deserve what had happened to him — nobody did. The signs had been there for a while, you noticed the change instantly and you tried to brush it off as him coping, but when it got to the point where you knew there was more, without a doubt — you had the conversation.

It took some convincing, and a few weeks before he even approached the idea — he denied for a while. You let him. You could only help him as much as he allowed you to, but then when he nudged you gently in bed one night and broke down — he wanted help, and you were happy to provide him with as much as you could, which also meant getting more help.

His arms wrap around your waist, clinging to you as though you’re his lifeline. And in a way, you are. But you know he’s yours too. You’ve never loved anyone the way you love Spencer—so deeply, so completely. He’s flawed, yes. But so are you.

When the doctor returns, you help Spencer sit up, though he keeps one hand resting on your knee, as if needing to stay tethered to you. You listen carefully as the doctor outlines the next steps, and this time, Spencer listens too. He’s scared, you can tell, but he’s fighting. For himself. For you. For what you both have.

And when you leave the office, walking back through the waiting room, you feel a shift. It’s subtle, almost imperceptible, but it’s there. Spencer’s steps are still hesitant, still burdened, but there’s a determination now. He’s facing it. He’s facing himself. And you’re right there beside him, as you always will be.

As you step out into the crisp evening air, Spencer pauses. He turns to you, his eyes soft, vulnerable, but this time, there’s a flicker of hope.

“I love you,” he says quietly, the words shaky but sincere.

You smile, your heart swelling. “I love you too.”

And in that moment, with the world quiet around you, “You will get better Spence.”

[fleurvi]

Appetite | Nico Robin

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pairing: vampire!nico robin x fem!reader

genre: smut (minors dni)

wc: 2.5k

cw: vampirism, blood drinking, predator/prey dynamic (in a dream sequence), mention of cannibalism but no actual cannibalism, fingering, cunnilingus, blood play, scent kink, Robin and Reader are both freaky

a/n: happy halloween lesbians. I also cross post to ao3.

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“You can't run from me,” Robin's voice booms through the forest, bouncing off the tree trunks surrounding you as you run. You have seen the look on her face; your wife has been reduced to nothing more than a hungry animal. You can't hear how far behind you she is, whether that's because the snapping of twigs and crunching of leaves caused by your own footsteps is drowning out the noise or, the more terrifying option, she's not actually running.

You're so close to the edge of the forest, close to freedom. Hopefully, people will be on the road, and you will get help.

Unfortunately, fate is not so kind to you. The taste of safety fizzles on your tongue as your shoe gets caught on a rock, and you lose your balance completely. You hear the flapping of wings and don't even have time to think before Robin's whole body weight is on you. You open your eyes to see your wife's face, though something about her is off.

She buries her nose in the crook of your neck. Her vampiric grip holds you in place; you can't escape now. “Your blood smells divine. I need to taste it”

You know how she feels about your scent. It was one of the things that drew her to you, but she promised she would never lose control and hurt you. You wonder if you could beg to appeal to that human part of your wife or if the woman you know has been lost for good.

“Please, baby, be good to me. You promised you'd never hurt me,” you whimper. You don't get a verbal response. Instead, Robin licks from your shoulder and up your neck to your jaw.

“You never have a problem with me hurting anyone else. I promise it won't kill you. I'm just hungry, baby. Don't you want to feed me?” The voice comes from Robin's mouth, but it has a static edge like the vocal cords have been fried, and it's nothing like Robin's. The monster isn't wrong; you always turn a blind eye when Robin has to feed, and her feeding has only killed a handful of times. Most of the time, people get dizzy for a few days, endure a rough hangover, and then a week later, they're good to go. You suppose you are being a hypocrite, maybe a taste of your own medicine is worth it.

“Okay”, you whisper, and a primal growl tears through the vampire's teeth. Her hands slide from your wrists to your own, interlocking your fingers. Her teeth sink into your neck before you can even fathom what's happening. You feel the sharp sting of both top and bottom fangs then a fuzzy warmth spreads through the area until eventually it goes numb and you feel nothing at all.

As soon as your eyes close, they're open again. You look around and realise you're in your bedroom, with your wife sound asleep next to you. She shifts beside you when you wake, and you turn in time to see her open her eyes. For a second, there's a flash of something primal, then the warmth seeps in, and she looks like the woman you married years ago.

“Is everything ok, dear?” she asks, hand reaching to caress your cheek. She's cold to the touch, a side effect of vampirism, but you can feel her intentions through the pads of her fingers. You're a little shocked by how needy you're feeling, especially after such a graphic nightmare. Your panties are uncomfortably wet and you're aching to be touched.

“Yeah, I'm fine,” you say, shuffling closer to Robin. “Just had an odd dream, that's all. Nothing to worry about”

You pull her into a kiss and readjust so you're straddling her. It's desperate and frantic, so much so that one of her fangs accidentally nicks your bottom lip. The scratch makes you whine as you pull back from the kiss. You can feel your skin warming as embarrassment rises like bile in the back of your throat. Your dream wasn't as much of a nightmare as you initially thought. She slides a hand between your legs, and you groan, dropping your head to her shoulder.

“Must've been one hell of a dream” she teases. “You're fucking soaked.”

You're horny beyond words, so you nod, moaning as she works her fingers between your legs. You're so close to cumming until a harsh screeching fills your ears. Never before have you felt so victimised by an inanimate object. Robin reaches her unoccupied hand to her nightstand and turns off her alarm clock. She pulls her other hand from your pyjama bottoms and licks her fingers clean.

“I'm sorry baby, I have an important meeting today. I'll make it up to you later. Why don't you put on something pretty for me later?” she suggests, sitting up with you still in her lap. She kisses your shoulder affectionately, encouraging you to move from her lap so she can get ready for work. She can't go out in the sun, but she's gotta help you pay for rent somehow, so she put the credentials she got when she was ‘human’ to good use and became an archaeology consultant for a museum. She works mostly from home, so you get to see her work.

With a huff, you get up, allowing her to get out of bed. You go through your regular morning routine with her. Once your faces are washed and your teeth are brushed, she sits between your legs and hands you a hairbrush. You started brushing her hair as soon as you moved in. You brush in silence, enjoying the Intimacy of the act. You can tell the repetitive action calms her. Once she's dressed, she goes to her office, and you stay behind in the bedroom, examining your morning.

Your dream gnaws at your chest all morning as you get started on your half of the chores. You can't accept that you were so worked up over the idea of your wife feeding from you. You try to tell yourself it's just the visual appeal of her fangs. Fangs are inherently sexy to look at, especially on a woman that exudes the control and power that Robin does. Her fangs are probably strong enough to take a chunk out of you, and you're so deeply in love with her, you'd probably let her. It's not cannibalism because you're, technically, no longer the same species. Your own sick train of thought turns your stomach. You stop vacuuming and sit down on your sofa hiding your head in your hands.

“What do I do?” you whisper to yourself. After five minutes of muttering under your breath and glaring at your coffee table, you can still feel the echo of her teeth. It's an all-consuming thought. It's a strange mix of guilt, disgust and pure eroticism.

You did marry a vampire so there must've been some interest in her monster side from the beginning. You've always been an adrenaline junkie. Maybe you just need to get this one sick desire out of your system, and you'll go back to normal. You know Robin is running out of her blood bags, so she's going to have to feed from humans until she can order more. You try to push the image of the soulless creature out of your mind and remind yourself of your unwavering trust in your wife. Robin has done nothing but love you and care for you the entire time you've known each other. She wouldn't take enough blood to kill you. no matter how good it tastes to her.

When her lunch break comes around and she's all done with her meeting, you approach her office, clad in lingerie with your makeup and hair done, ready to flush whatever sickness you have from your system. You've researched vampire feeding; you know what tastes good to them, you know the side effects on humans and you know it's going to hurt. Strangely, the thought doesn't deter you; the closer you get to the office, the more excited you are.

You knock on the door to Robin's office, waiting for her permission to enter. You take one last deep breath, accepting your fate, and enter the room.

“Lunch delivery” you sing, as she looks up from her laptop. Her jaw drops as she sees how you look.

“What did I do to deserve all this?” she asks, putting her laptop in the desk drawer and pushing the large chair back so you can straddle her. “I guess we can pick up where we left off this morning,” she says, leaning in to kiss you.

“I wanted to ask if I can do something for you, " you say, cradling her face in your hands. She nods, listening to you. “You're almost out of blood bags. I wondered if…I could be your blood bag,” You say, tilting your head and baring your neck to her.

“You want me to drink from you?” she says, voice unsure. She's never drunk from someone she loves. “It'll hurt you”

“I know. I know it will. I want it to,” You whimper out, guiding one of her hands to your panties. She's still apprehensive, but you see her expression faltering, her vampiric side pushing forward. “That's what I dreamed about last night; that's what got me this soaked.” You say, moaning as her fingers rub your sensitive clit.

“Are you sure you want me to bite you?”

“Positive. I'm not scared of your fangs. They're fucking sexy”

“If it's too much, we're stopping”, she insists, waiting for you to agree before letting you pull her back into a kiss. She moves your panties to the side and slips two fingers inside of you. She trails her lips down your neck, stopping at the base where she presses her nose and takes a whiff, inhaling your scent. On your first date, she told you she could hear your nervous heart frantically pumping blood around your body, it had freaked you out at first but you've grown used to her vampire senses. “You smell delicious. So sweet,” she hums, returning her lips to yours and moving her fingers inside you. She fingers you with precision as she presses her thumb to your clit. She plays with your clit as her fingers skillfully pleasure you.

“I'm gonna cum” you moan, and Robin nods, pulling away from the kiss and positioning her head at the junction of your neck and shoulder. She takes a deep breath, waiting for you to be on the edge of your orgasm before finally sinking her four fangs into your soft awaiting skin. The pain throbbing in your neck sends shockwaves through your body, sending you barrelling face-first into your orgasm. You practically scream out Robin's name as you soak her hand and wrist. You gush as she suckles the wound. The throbbing eases into a numb feeling comparable to pins and needles. She doesn't take a long drink. It's not enough to sustain her until her next order arrives and you're not dizzy yet. You're not experiencing any side effects. She probably only took a few drops.

“Not enough, need a juicier spot,” Robin says, voice dazed as if she's the one who's been drunk from. She licks over the bite mark, letting her natural healing abilities seal the wounds. She pulls her fingers from your pussy, and licks them clean. She hadn't even noticed you squirting at first, so focused on the heavenly taste of your blood. The sight of your juices mixing with your blood has you whimpering on top of her. She lifts you up, planting you on her desk and laying you down. She pulls your panties completely off.

“The thigh is the second best place to drink after the neck. The blood tastes better, in my opinion, but there's more fat in the way of the vessels.” She says, more to herself than you. “I'll make you feel good first”, she promises, using her hands to pull your thighs apart.

She leans in, suckling your clit into her mouth, smiling against you as you moan for her. Your hands shoot down to grab her hair.

“Fuck, baby, it feels so fucking good” You moan and she flicks her tongue at your clit. She all but makes out with your clit. She's sloppy and more enthusiastic than usual, it's a big change from her usual demeanour in bed. She's a fiend, determined to devour every piece of you she can. She's like a venomous snake; the poison in her fangs is spreading through your veins, and you're paralysed to her and her will. Except, you know she's not venomous, there is no poison, you're just a woman who's walked willingly into a monster's grasp. Robin has completely consumed you.

Her tongue works you up absurdly quickly. Leaving you shaking, whimpering and clawing at her desk as she slurps up every drop of cum you have to offer. Your taste floods her tongue as she moans and whimpers against you. It's only now that you realise she's been touching herself.

“Let me taste you before you taste me again”, you beg. Robin obliges immediately, pressing her fingers to your lips. You accept them into your mouth Immediately, sucking them clean of all of Robin's juices. “You taste so good,” you say as she pulls her fingers free from your mouth.

“Oh sweet girl, nothing could ever compare to your taste”, and you know she's not talking about cum. She puts her hand back down her trousers, using your spit as extra lube to play with her sensitive clit while she drinks from you. This is turning her on as much as it is you. She softly moans as she grazes her fangs over your inner thigh.

Robin finally sinks her teeth into you, and both of you groan in pleasure. Your left leg kicks outward at the shock as your right leg stays still in your wife's grip. She takes a much longer drink from this wound, making herself cum as the taste of your blood floods her mouth. The sharp pain is more intense than the first bite but it fades into a throbbing ache much quicker. It's an oddly satisfying feeling, like pressing on a bruise or massaging a sore muscle.

You're exhausted, drained of blood and have had two orgasms. She's done with her drink, but she doesn't seal your wound right away. You want to ask what she's doing but can barely even form a sentence. You try and focus on feeling her hands. She's collecting the blood from your wound on her fingers. You're able to lift your head enough to watch her draw out her initials on your stomach. It's the last thing you see, her name marked on your skin in blood, before your eyes close. You feel her tongue finally seal the wound. You hear her reach for something from the drawer.

“I'm going to clean you up and get you bandages. You just rest for me, my perfect little treat”

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I'm on ao3 here! thank you so much for reading!!

[neoameba]

"Promise to me, please."

Aizetsu x Male!Reader

Warnings: a bit of yandere!Aizetsu, Self-degradation, melancholy (but it's Aizetsu, so that's to be expected), Aizetsu kills a few people, so maybe there's some gore implied. Can be read as ftm!reader.

Summary: Aizetsu is a difficult thing to deal with. He always seems depressed, and it's hard to be his boyfriend while dealing with this. His melancholy reaches absurd levels when he's around [Name]. 'Tell me you love me, please... Don't look at me like that...' was what he always said as he knelt on the floor like a poor soul. Even though he just killed someone and accidentally made his boyfriend see everything.

[Name] knew what he was getting into. From the beginning, when he opened the door for the oni and let him in. Why did he do it? For two reasons: If he didn't open the door, maybe the oni would still come in and out of anger and despair would kill him in the most brutal way... The other reason is simple, that sad, sly little face wanting to come in because the sun was about to rise and he needed to hide broke the human boy's heart. He looked hurt, he probably fought with someone who was a hashira and ran away from the sun. Worthy of pity.

Since that day when Aizetsu didn't kill [Name], they began to create a subtle and fragile bond. In the past, [Name]'s father was a formidable swordsmith, and thanks to that, the two lived in the swordsmith village. The boy knew about the existence of oni because of his father, but he never paid any attention to it. When his father died, [Name] felt that he no longer had any obligation to remain in the village, and fled far away. But who knew, now he's harboring an oni that refuses to leave his home. Aizetsu only came out at night and nothing else, before the sun came up he was already inside [Name]'s house. He would close the curtains and windows, blocking any rays of sunlight from coming in while he was buried in [Name]'s arms... The boy hadn't even given permission for Aizetsu to sleep in the same bed as him, or even come close.

"I'm sorry, [Name], I won't do that again... Don't talk to me like that, it makes me sad..."

That's what he always said, even though he remained suffocatingly close and always did the same thing the next day. After a while, [Name] didn't even complain anymore, it was a waste of time. He just hugged him back and went back to sleep. Their relationship became stronger... But at the same time, more irritating.

"[Name]!... D-Don't do that... You know it makes me sad, makes me feel like scum, pitiful when you go out for the day with your friends, just because I can't go out..." Perhaps he enjoyed degrading himself, as his cheeks would turn pink and his legs would tighten to relieve something as he knelt. It's a difficult thing to know. And in a way, [Name] even liked seeing Aizetsu like this... It was a strange feeling, something like having such an inferior and humiliated creature in his care.

But... Aizetsu is still an oni, one of the most dangerous. Even though with [Name] he acts like a puppy that sits on his owner's lap when doing things he doesn't like, he still kills innocent people and destroys families, swallowing the flesh and blood of those who pass by. He needed to feed, and he didn't want to have to go as far as he had the last few times.

"AIZETSU!"

A voice echoes in that hut, disturbing the oni's meal. He recognizes that voice before it is even heard. "[Name]! D-Don't be mad at me...!" But how can he not get angry? All the corpses there were those of [Name]'s friends. Aizetsu knew this. And he cut their throats anyway. He drops that corpse and runs to [Name], who doesn't have time to react.

He cries, like never before. His face showed pure despair at losing his boyfriend. "[N-Name], it wasn't my fault... I swear! But I had to, it was my hands...! Don't hate me! I'm scum, a depressing being..." He threw the entire weight of his body at [Name] causing the boy to fall to the ground. With that, Aizetsu sits on his lap and hugs him.

"You always knew I was an oni and you still let me into your house! Don't look at me like that... Promise me you won't abandon me...!"

He said, while looking like he was on the verge of an anxiety attack. Anyone who knows the true body of that oni, or its history to be more precise, knows that that behavior is the purest juice of its true personality. A wolf in sheep's clothing, someone who cries like an innocent but has a lot of blood on his hands.

"I promise."

The oni looked at him with wide, glowing eyes as he looked in disbelief. He kissed the boy's lips without any malice, and buried his face in the human boy's chest. Maybe it's pure mental exhaustion and desperation, maybe [Name] did it so he could have time to call a demon slayer... Or maybe he just loves Aizetsu. There's no way to know for now.

Masterlist~

[starlovesganyu]

Hi, love your page! Could you do Hu Tao, Amber, Shenhe and Ganyu(or any characters you want if you don’t want to write these) with a partner who turns out to be a werewolf?

a full moon!

❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀

them with a werewolf S/O!

thanks for the ask!

various characters x werewolf!reader

characters: hu tao, amber, shenhe, ganyu

warnings: none

a/n:

-werewolf!reader can't control their transformation during a full moon, when normally they can

-werewolf!reader doesn't like, lose control of themselves when they transform

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

hu tao -`✮´-

• she'll already be suspicious since you're always "staying the night at your parents" on nights with a full moon

• curiosity will eventually get the better of her and she'll secretly tail you when you're "going to your parents house"

• when she discovers you're a werewolf, she isn't scared or anything, instead she thinks it's the coolest thing in the world!

• best of all, you only seem to change appearance, not the way you act!

• if you're worried that she's not going to look at you the same, don't worry! she still loves you just as much as she did before, maybe even more now that she's found out <3

• will love to sleep with you when you're in wolf form! she loves your fluffy fur, and she feels safe and protected when you wrap your tail around her!

• she'll expect you to let her ride on your back though

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

amber -`✮´-

• she'll be nervous when she first witnesses you transform during a full moon, approaching you carefully

• once you demonstrate to her that you aren't a threat, and basically the same ignoring the appearance change, she becomes curious, examining you up and down

• she'll agree to keep this a secret from the general public, but will notify jean and the knights of favonius so they don't hurt you when they're out patrolling and run into wolf-you

• she learns that you're a pretty good fighter in wolf form, so she loves when you agree to join her on her expeditions!

• she'll also put it on herself to make sure your coat is always properly cleaned and groomed

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

shenhe -`✮´-

"S/O?"

• because of her ropes, she would be calm, but also because she could probably easily subdue you without bringing harm to either party

• once she deems you unthreatening, won't even ask you any questions, but will just silently spend the night with you

• will take you to visit cloud retainer and ask her how to properly take care of you

• probably won't tell you to transform often, but she does enjoy sparring with wolf-you, being extra careful as to not cause you any harm

• whenever it's a full moon, she will accompany you and stay with you until you can turn back to normal so you don't feel lonely <3

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

ganyu -`✮´-

• will be mesmerized as she witnesses your transformation, but her heart shatters when you just just simply curl up in a small cave and wait for morning to come

• too think you've been going through this all alone is enough for her throw all rationality out the window, and jump out from the back of the tree she was hiding behind and run towards you

• will apologize for not realizing it earlier, for making you bear all the weight yourself, even though it isn't anywhere near her fault </3

• on a lighter note, you become her favorite place to take her afternoon nap!

• her heart always melts whenever she spots you from her window at the pavilion, laying down in your wolf form, waiting for her to come nap at her favorite spot

• best believe she comes running

a/n: thanks for reading!!!!

sorry for any typos!!

[allfattenedup]

Hello and what great progress, exceptional!!!

I see myself in you even if I'm just starting out... cause I was also a thin athlete, even too thin at certain times, I can ask you what pushed you to start and after the first phases what did you did it push you to move forward and never go back?

Thankyou!

Thank you so much!

I've told this story a few times but not for a while. So I have always had this kink. But I was also pretty vain, lol. I don't mind admitting that. I wanted to look hot, it was important to me. So, I won't say I buried the kink - I definitely jerked off to pretty much only fat guys and girls, and even fantasized heaps about myself getting fat, but I was just really strict in my mind that it was a fantasy only and that I'd never actually do it to myself.

Eventually, it became overwhelming. In hindsight I realise it was a self sustaining cycle — I was working out more and taking better care of my looks to try to drown out the desire, but the more I did that, the more delicious the thought of ruining it all became in my mind. The pull became way too strong. It was all I was thinking about all the time.

So, I did eventually make a deal with myself that I would gain 20lbs, just to get it out of my system, and then lose it before anyone really noticed.

That was the best/worst/best/worst decision I ever made.

Because oh my god, if I thought fantasizing about myself with a belly was hard to resist, actually having one? Actually watching and feeling one grow and wobble and push over my waistband? A potent lifelong sexual fantasy coming to life like that? Fuck me, I didn't stand a chance.

It got out of control real fucking fast. I swelled like crazy. Got the heavy hanging stomach of my dreams and nightmares. Got a pair of moobs, got a double chin and a fat face. I quickly realised I also had an embarrassment kink and with that, the guardrails just came off. The safety net burned up. The thought of having to face people in this body was as delicious as it was horrifying so there was no way I could stop myself from making it worse and worse and worse. I've done a few different drugs in my life and I have NEVER been as out of my mind as I was during that period of time. Absolutely off my face on lust.

Although it's not quite true that I never went back. I exploded with fat so fast that it seriously freaked me out. And even though I was literally getting off on the panic of how obese I was, eventually it became too much and I did actually lose a lot of weight. Not down to my original weight but enough that people were congratulating me everywhere I went for how "good I was looking". It felt nice, honestly. I missed the erotic tornado of weight gain, but it was kind of nice to feel normal again, to feel a little bit confident in my looks again, and I promised I'd leave this whole surreal experience behind me. But then eventually... it was all I was thinking about all the time. It became overwhelming. The pull became too strong.

I should have known what would happen. I came back to tumblr. Explained myself, showed my weight loss. People were really kind and supportive. I admitted that I just wanted to be part of the community again but I'm not gonna be gaining any weight back. And then that became 'I'm only gonna gain a tiny bit of weight back'. And then for probably about a year I was "not gaining" while slowly getting fatter and fatter. I started a Patreon and the thought of being fattened for a living started to ping that overwhelming desire again. My body started to take on a different shape than it did in my first gain. So all of a sudden that made everything new and hot again. I was in denial for wayyyy longer than was reasonable. I somehow managed convinced myself I wasn't really gaining on purpose, meanwhile I was ordering a second pint of Ben & Jerry's while still shoving down the first. I'm sure half of you guys knew I was intentionally gaining again before I did. And that's where we are now. I gained slower this time. My body is handling it better. Seems to me the only way from here is up 😈📈🥵

[kitchenisking]

September Fic Rec

History in these Streets by orphan_account - (Rating: Not Rated, Words: 3,988, sterek)

Its Derek's birthday and now that Stiles doesn't have Malia, he misses Derek even more than before. Fortunately Braeden is back and gives him a way to contact Derek. In doing so however, old emotions resurface and grow as the two talk on the phone almost everyday. Derek says he probably won't come back though, and that hurts Stiles more than anything.

Or Stiles misses Derek so they talk on the phone but will Derek come home for him?

(We both failed each other in a way) by hellodickspeight - (Rating: T, Words: 742, sterek)

"Why are you laughing ?" he asks through his teeth.

"Are you actually hearing yourself ? Me, cheating on you ? That's like reverse day. If someone did the cheating, it would be you--""

In which Derek thinks Stiles is cheating on him.

Say You Love Me by sunnydalewerewolf - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 1,540, sterek)

“Say it,” Stiles repeats, kissing him on the lips again.

“If I say it too much it might lose its meaning,” Derek jokes.

“If you never say it at all it will definitely lose its meaning.”

Derek sighs. “Why don’t you say it?”

“I asked you first.” 

AKA: Stiles and Derek have sex and say I love you a bunch of times.

Bravery is a Loaded Gun by DefNotForWork - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 17,389, sterek)

“No, I’m not asexual, Stiles,” Derek said shortly.

The teen’s heart sank in his chest, his palms going clammy and his neck prickling with the familiar feeling of rejection.

“So then it’s,” Stiles swallowed, throat clogging, unable to give voice to the facts he would much rather ignore. The silence grew between them, growing tense the longer it was left. For the first time in years, Stiles couldn’t speak. The weight of inadequacy held down his typical stream of useless banter. What does one say in this sort of situation? ‘I’m sorry you don’t find me attractive?’

In which the boys speak in half sentences and have two totally different conversations. What they can agree on, eventually, is that they love each other. And that Derek should jerk off more.

No Stones in Heaven by DothTheRaven - (Rating: Not Rated, Words: 9,652, sterek)

Derek knows the moment he meets eleven year-old Stiles that he’s found his mate. Of course he doesn’t tell the boy this, because he knows that would be creepy and would probably get him arrested. So he bides his time, and befriends the boy and falls in love and waits for the day when Stiles can be a part of his life, forever.

And really, in the end, it’s all Derek’s fault.

Stiles will become a more permanent part of Derek’s life, just not in the capacity he’s been hoping for. Not in the capacity he needs.

It’s because Derek wanted his privacy. It’s because Derek lied to his family. It’s because he wasn’t paying close enough attention.

It’s about happiness and sacrifices and loving your family and doing what’s right, even when it feels like the worst decision of your life.

The Same Old Blood Rush (With A New Touch) by rainsoakedshoes - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 29,564, sterek)

“Friends with benefits,” Derek stated. “I just happen to be in a position to provide a few more benefits than your usual hook ups.”

***

Derek was an Alpha with a pack and a multi-billion dollar company to take care of. Stiles was a college kid with assignments and student debt to worry about. Neither of them were looking a serious relationship. A one night stand turned into an easy no-strings-attached arrangement. Although nothing is ever as easy or as simple as it first seems.

Cause I Built a Home (For You, For Me) by noneedforhystereks - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 59,719, sterek)

Mechanic!Derek and Daddy!Stiles

Derek Hale is a mechanic in the sleepy town of Beacon Hills, where he has lived all of his life. He spends his day in a simple routine: wake up, fix cars, go home, sleep. It's what he's good at, and it keeps things simple and uncomplicated. Derek doesn't let people in and remains emotionally distant from everyone except his sister, Laura, and her daughter. This all changes when Boyd tows in an old blue Jeep that needs a lot of work and Derek meets the owner of said Jeep.

Because once Derek meets Stiles and his kids, he can't stop himself from caring. And he doesn't want to stop.

my wings a hurricane by kellifer_fic  - (Rating: T, Words: 20,322, sterek)

Stiles had been like any other kid growing up in the era of dragons. He'd watched the cartoons, the news stories, had the lunch box. When his screening at Beacon Hills High had come up negative, he'd been disappointed but unsurprised. His positive results were returned three years too late for it to be in any way convenient or cool.

Or, the one where they ride dragons.

Becoming Yours by dbeaux - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 46,688, sterek)

As a dom and owner of Stockholm Syndrome, Stiles takes pride in providing a safe place for people to scene. After a bad breakup, he's not looking for a sub, isn't sure he wants a full time sub again.

College student and curious sub Derek needs a full time dom but hasn't found anyone willing to take him on so he spends as much time at Stockholm Syndrome as he can, pairing up with various doms willing to take him on for an evening.

When their worlds collide, can they find what they need in each other?

Beacon Hell by alikatastic - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 4,693, sterek)

It had been easier than he thought to talk himself into the field to save Derek's furry ass. The raid was over, and, hell, he couldn’t believe it went as well as it did. Stiles had lost his job, but they hadn’t sent him to some supernatural jail, so he would take his wins where he could. Except, Stiles wasn’t ready to go home. He’d just gotten away; he was free.

[idkyetxoxo]

Gwayne Hightower - Knight in Shining Armour

Summary - Between familial resentment and favour she finds herself the target of an assault. Just as hope seems lost, Gwayne, the knight she's long regarded as an enemy rescues her. His actions unveil buried vulnerabilities and ignite a fragile new understanding between them.

Pairing - Gwayne Hightower x reader

Warnings - Violence, Sexual assault (attempted)

Word count - 2531

Masterlist for Gwayne • House of the Dragon General Masterlist

I had always been the ditzy friend of Alicent, his younger sister. 

Perhaps it was the fact that for reasons unknown to me, their father, Otto Hightower seemed to shower more affection on me, a mere stranger, than his own blood son. Whatever the cause, it fueled a simmering animosity in him that was hard to ignore.

I was no fool. The tension was evident, and I had learned quickly not to feign politeness when faced with his disdain. If he harboured such contempt, why should I grovel or feign respect?

"Gwayne," I said curtly as he dismounted his horse. Alicent, radiant with joy at her brother's return, stood beside me, her smile wide and welcoming.

"Sister," Gwayne replied, his gaze completely bypassing me as though I were a mere shadow. I stifled a scoff, crossing my arms over my chest as the siblings exchanged greetings.

After a moment of mutual affection, Gwayne turned his attention to me, his face contorting into a displeased scowl. "And you, the girl who is always clinging to my sister."

I sighed, unimpressed. "Forgive me for expecting any semblance of decency from you. It's strange, isn't it? How manners seem to elude those who need them most."

Gwayne's expression darkened further. "Forgive me for giving the impression that I value your presence."

"I'm merely here with my friend," I said sharply, "and your father suggested my company." 

His face darkened even more, a sour expression spreading across his features.

"Of course he did and you still seem to be at his beck and call after all these years," he retorted, his voice dripping with disdain.

I laughed mockingly. "It's hardly my fault that he prefers my company over his own son's."

Before Gwayne could respond with another cutting remark, Alicent intervened, sensing the conversation's descent into outright hostility. "I think that's enough," she said, her tone firm. "Brother, you must be weary from your travels. Perhaps you should rest before dinner tonight."

Gwayne's eyes remained locked on me, a smouldering resentment evident. He nodded curtly and stalked off, his back rigid with irritation.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Alicent looped her arm through mine, guiding me away. Her voice was a low, exasperated murmur as she began to lecture me. 

"You really must learn to temper your responses."

I shook my head, a mix of frustration and amusement in my expression. "He's hardly the epitome of charm himself. He makes it quite clear he doesn't want me around."

Alicent sighed, her eyes softening with sympathy. "I understand, but if you continue to provoke him, it will only make things worse. He's been struggling with his place in the family for years. It's not easy for him."

I tilted my head, considering her words. "Maybe, but that doesn't excuse his behaviour towards me. I'll try to be more civil, but I won't pretend to be pleased with his attitude."

Alicent's gaze was earnest. "I appreciate that. Just remember, it's not only about getting along with him. It's about maintaining peace for everyone's sake, including your own."

"Sometimes I feel like I'm losing both of you" she confessed, her voice tinged with quiet sorrow. 

I sighed, the weight of her words settling over me, and leaned my head on her shoulder, seeking comfort in the only place it seemed to remain.

As we walked away, I couldn't shake the feeling that the battle lines were drawn. 

It was clear that Gwayne and I were locked in a struggle that would require more than just diplomatic niceties to resolve.

─── ✦⋅♡⋅✦ ──

Dinner unfolded as smoothly as could be expected under the circumstances. I maintained a careful silence throughout the meal, choosing to forgo any remarks that might provoke further tension. My restraint did not go unnoticed by Gwayne or Otto, their conversation growing momentarily heated before being cooled by forced civility.

Alicent excused herself early, citing fatigue, and I followed suit shortly after. 

I made my way through the streets of King's Landing, heading towards the shop where Alicent and I had ordered two gowns for an upcoming celebration.

The evening was rapidly darkening, and I quickened my pace, feeling a twinge of regret for declining Alicent's offer to join me. I had insisted on walking alone, hoping the solitude would help me clear my mind after the strained dinner.

As I navigated through the bustling streets, the throngs of people seemed to press in on me, their chatter and movement creating a cacophony of noise. 

I found myself jostled by passersby, their brusqueness only adding to my sense of urgency.

Determined to expedite my journey, I decided to take a shortcut through a narrow alleyway. The alley was dimly lit and somewhat eerie, its walls lined with uneven cobblestones and littered with refuse. The noise from the main thoroughfare receded, replaced by a more oppressive silence.

As I moved swiftly through the alley, the sound of footsteps behind me made me glance over my shoulder. 

Two intoxicated men staggered into view, their steps erratic and their voices loud. One of them, his eyes bleary and unfocused, spotted me and quickened his pace, cutting across my path with an unsteady gait.

"What's a pretty lady like you doing around here?" he slurred, reaching out and twirling a lock of my hair between his grimy fingers.

I took a step back, my heart pounding faster with each beat. 

"I apologize, but I must be going," I said, trying to maintain my composure. I lifted the skirts of my dress, readying myself for a quick escape.

The second man, whose demeanour was just as menacing, blocked my way, pressing me against the cold brick wall. His eyes gleamed with a predatory glint as he leaned in closer. 

"What's the rush, darling?" he drawled, his breath reeking of alcohol.

I glanced frantically between the two men, my instincts screaming that they had no noble intentions. Their sinister expressions and dishevelled appearances only heightened my fear.

"I really must go. My friend is waiting for me," I said, my voice trembling. The first man traced a finger along my cheek, his touch sending shivers down my spine.

The second man's grin widened as he closed in further. "We could be your friends for the night," he suggested, his voice dripping with menace.

Panic surged through me, and my eyes filled with tears. I swallowed hard, trying to steady my breath as I pressed myself fully against the wall. 

"Please," I murmured, my voice barely a whisper as a few stray tears slid down my cheeks.

The first man's laughter was low and cruel. He reached out, brushing a tear from my face with a rough thumb. 

"Now, now, love. Don't cry. There's nothing to be upset about. We can make this quick," he said, his tone laced with malicious amusement.

His fingers continued their unwelcome journey, trailing along my cheek with an unsettling mixture of pity and predation. The second man's proximity was even more unnerving. His breath, hot and rank, washed over me as he leaned in closer.

"Please," I whispered again, tears now streaming freely down my face. "I really need to go."

The first man's expression shifted from twisted amusement to cold determination. He leaned in, his face close enough that I could feel the warmth of his breath. 

"We'll make this quick," he murmured, his voice a low, threatening growl. "Just don't fight it."

The second man's grin became predatory as he grabbed at my arms, his touch invasive and rough. My instincts screamed at me to resist, but the sheer terror immobilized me for a heartbeat.

Desperation sparked a burst of energy, and I swung my arm, landing an elbow into his ribs. He grunted in pain but only tightened his grip, shoving me forcefully against the wall.

The first man's laughter turned into a growl of frustration. He seized my face with both hands and yanked me closer, pressing his lips against my neck. His breath was hot and nauseating, I struggled violently, but his strength was overpowering.

I kicked out desperately, my foot connecting with the second man's shin. He yelped and staggered back, but it was a fleeting reprieve. The first man's hands were relentless, his grip vice-like.

In a moment of sheer panic, I tried to claw at him, but his strength overpowered mine. He slammed me against the wall, and I felt a sharp, searing pain as he roughly shoved me.

The second man recovered quickly and rejoined. They worked together with terrifying efficiency, and before I could react, they overpowered me. The second man grabbed my waist and hoisted me up.

In the struggle, my foot caught the edge of the cobblestone, and I was kicked forcefully in the side. The blow knocked me off balance, sending me crashing to the ground with a painful thud. I cried out, the impact sending a jolt of agony through me.

Dazed and disoriented, I tried to push myself up, but my body felt leaden. I looked up to see the men's faces twisted with cruel satisfaction, their intentions laid bare. The alleyway seemed to spin around me, the darkness growing thicker and more oppressive.

Suddenly, a voice cut through the night, sharp and authoritative. "What is going on here?"

The two men froze, their faces shifting from malicious intent to surprise and apprehension. I could barely see through my tear-blurred vision, but I could tell from the tone and urgency that someone was intervening.

"Piss off and wait your turn," one of the men sneered, his bravado faltering slightly as he glanced toward the source of the voice. His tone was rough, but there was an edge of uncertainty now.

Gwayne stepped into the alleyway, his expression hardening as he took in the scene. Without a word, he drew his sword with a smooth, practised motion. The blade gleamed ominously in the dim light.

The first man's sneer faltered. "We don't need your help, you interfering—"

Before he could finish, Gwayne lunged forward, his sword slicing through the air with precision. The second man attempted to intervene, but Gwayne's blade parried his move, sending him staggering back.

Steel clashed, and the alley rang with the sounds of battle. Gwayne fought with deliberate, controlled strikes, easily deflecting the first man's frantic attacks. The first man's attempts grew increasingly desperate as Gwayne's skill became apparent.

The second man tried to tackle Gwayne from the side, but Gwayne twisted and delivered a powerful kick to his midsection, sending him sprawling to the ground.

Gwayne turned his focus back to the first man, whose blows were now wild and ineffective. With a final, decisive strike, Gwayne disarmed him. The man fell back, fear etched across his face.

"Get out of here," Gwayne said coldly, pointing his sword at the retreating figures. "If you ever come near another lady again, you'll regret it."

The men scrambled to their feet and fled, their bravado shattered. Their hurried footsteps echoed as they disappeared into the night.

Gwayne sheathed his sword and turned to me. I was still sitting on the ground, trembling and dishevelled. His gaze softened as he extended a hand to help me up. I hesitated for a moment before taking it, my grip weak and shaky. 

As I rose to my feet, I wiped away my tears with a trembling hand, trying to compose myself.

"Thank you," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. I managed a small, bitter smile despite the lingering fear. "I'm sure it pained you to save me of all people."

Gwayne's expression shifted, a shadow of guilt passing over his features. He seemed to wrestle with his own emotions before speaking, his voice low and conflicted. 

"It's not your fault that my father can't find it in him to love me," he said, his tone carrying a hint of raw honesty. "You didn't do anything wrong."

I looked at him, surprised by the depth of his words. "I didn't mean to imply that—"

"No," he interrupted gently, his eyes meeting mine with a mix of sadness and determination. "I've been struggling with my place in this family for years. Seeing someone like you, a stranger, who my father seems to favour over me, only made it worse."

His vulnerability took me aback "I never meant to be a source of discomfort for you."

Gwayne's expression softened further, the harsh edges of his earlier demeanour giving way to a more weary understanding. 

"I know," he said, shaking his head. "It's not your fault. I suppose I've let my frustrations cloud my judgment, and it's unfair of me to take it out on you."

There was a moment of silence between us, the tension of the earlier confrontation dissipating into an uneasy truce. Gwayne's eyes lingered on me, his gaze still filled with a mix of regret and sincerity. He looked at me as if seeing me for the first time beyond the resentment that had clouded his judgment.

"I'm sorry for how I've treated you," he said quietly, his voice carrying an undertone of vulnerability. "It's not right to blame you for things beyond your control."

I met his gaze, feeling a mix of relief and surprise at his unexpected apology. "Thank you," I said softly, my voice trembling slightly. "I appreciate that."

Gwayne's expression softened, and for a brief moment, the walls he had built around himself seemed to crumble. He offered me a small, genuine smile, though it was tinged with sadness. It was a smile that spoke of unacknowledged pain, a smile that was meant to bridge the gap between us.

"Let's get you out of here," he said, his tone shifting to a more practical note. He took a step closer, his arms reaching out to steady me.

Before I could react, Gwayne gently pulled me into his embrace. His arms were strong but careful, wrapping around me with a warmth that was both reassuring and unexpected. 

I felt a strange mix of comfort and uncertainty, my heart fluttering at the closeness.

We stood there for a heartbeat, the world outside the alley fading away. His gaze remained locked on mine, and for a fleeting moment, I wondered if he might lean in for a kiss. 

The intensity of his stare, the tenderness in his touch, everything seemed to suggest a possible shift from the tension to something more intimate.

Instead, Gwayne leaned forward and pressed a soft, fleeting kiss to my forehead. The gesture was gentle, almost shy, and it carried with it a sense of care that spoke volumes. It was a simple, tender touch that held a promise of change and understanding.

As he pulled back, he took my hand in his, his grip firm but comforting. 

"Come on," he said softly.

He guided me through the dimly lit streets, his presence a steadying force as we walked. The night air was cool and crisp, and the earlier fear and confusion began to recede, replaced by a fragile sense of peace.

We walked in silence, the city's sounds were distant, and the shadows of the alleyway seemed to grow fainter with each step. It felt like a moment of quiet reconciliation, a brief respite from the turmoil that had consumed us earlier.

In the end, the night had brought us an unexpected connection, one that promised a new beginning, if not for us, then at least for the understanding that had taken root between us.

A/n - National sexual assault and rape hotline (call : 1-800-656-4673, or access RAINN's online chat service at : https://rainn.org/get-help) 💙

Gwayne tag list - @deniixlovezelda @randomnerdyfan @callsign-blue

[skyahri]

Remember Part Four |SatoSugu X Reader| HC Series

Part Three Masterlist Ko-fi

A/N: Y'all, I'm so sorry it's so late. My mind has been buzzing in a different direction.

- - - - -

"Pretty please with a cherry on top?"

"Satoru..."

He'd been begging to join you on your unofficial outing for the better part of an hour. He'd been following you around, making empty promises to behave and offering you random things in return if you'd just allow him to accompany you. But you knew better, and after nearly thirteen years of knowing the man, it was safe to assume he'd only cause a headache.

"I'm serious. Let me go with you. You don't have to do everything by yourself, you know."

"Satoru..."

Your patience is wearing thin at this point. There's a silent warning that follows the hiss of his name, but he ignores it all the same.

"Just let us in. Let us help."

"You don't know what you're asking."

"I know it has something to do with Suguru."

You froze, staring blankly in front of you for only a moment before turning around to face him. His expression was hard, something that you've seen many times over the years, but never one you'd expect from pre-tragedy Gojo- someone still high on the spoils of his upbringing and blind to the heartache of the real world.

He'd said it with all the confidence in the world, like it was a fact and not some half-assed conclusion he (and presumably Geto, too) had come to. Your lack of response and obvious shock must have been all the confirmation he needed- to say everything that's been on his mind since that encounter in the bathroom two weeks ago. To hell with Suguru's endless warnings about coming on too strong. He was tired of waiting for you to come around.

"You're struggling..." his voice was uncharacteristically soft, like he was worried he'd spook you, "You don't sleep. You skip meals. You disappear without so much as a goodbye. We know you're doing all of this for the greater good, or whatever, but it's hard watching you kill yourself in the process. I just want to take some of the weight off of you, but you won't let me."

You can only stare up at him. He'd tipped his glasses down to the tip of his nose, allowing you to look into his pretty blue eyes. (That asshole knows your weaknesses). It's easy to get a read on him, the seriousness of his words reflecting perfectly on his face. But even if he does mean it, you can't bring yourself to drag him into your never-ending pit of hopelessness.

"I appreciate it, Satoru, but I can't take that kind of risk. This could very well be my only shot and I can't risk losing him just because I can't handle a little pressure-"

"It's not a little pressure and we both know it."

"You just don't understand-"

"Then make me understand!"

"He leaves, Satoru!"

Maybe he's more in tune with your brain than you are, or maybe he just knows all the right buttons to push, because the stress simmering in your mind seems to bubble over in that moment. You inhale sharply and let it all out.

"Things happen, terrible things, and it changes him, and he just... leaves. I can't tell you because I can't risk fucking up our only chance to save him. I just-" a heavy sob breaks through your sentence, but it doesn't deter you, "I love you and you love me, but we love him. We need him, Satoru, and he isn't around. We're not the same. We're sad and empty and it's lonely."

It spills out like word vomit. You can't control what you're saying and you can barely process the actual syllables, but you don't stop.

"I can't spend another decade wearing his shirts that you've spritzed with his cologne and wishing he were there. I can't spend another Sunday looking at the extra chair we keep at the dining table just in case he comes back. I avoid your nightstand because I know you keep a ring in there for him. You and I still text in the group chat even though he's been inactive since that night!"

Satoru is quiet for once in his life. He's been completely stunned into silence, not daring to interrupt your ranting. Your eerily calm pleading turned into shouting at some point and he's grateful for the privacy of an empty school on a particularly busy day.

He hates the tears in your eyes, even more so when they start to drip down your flushed cheeks. He wishes that he had better listened to all of Suguru's annoying lectures about sympathy and empathy (or whatever it's called) because he's grossly ill-prepared for this conversation.

He settles on pulling you into a hug, because while words aren't his strong suit, actions certainly are. He lets you cry into his chest without complaint. You grip the fabric of his school-issued white button-up and let go of all the pent-up grief from the past twelve years.

"So,"

He waits for you to become slightly more composed.

"What are we gonna do about it?"

You chuckle at how unapologetically comfortable he is with himself. You don't remove yourself from his embrace, choosing instead to hide the incoming tension.

"We stop him."

"From?"

"A year and a half from now, Suguru goes on a solo mission to a small village, where he will kill a hundred and twelve villagers. He takes over a cult, whose new goal is to kill all non-sorcerers in an attempt to end curses forever."

Satoru swallow hard. Honestly, what the hell was he supposed to say to that?

"... seriously?"

Well, apparently not that.

You push off of him and punch him square in the chest. It's playful, kind of, lightening the atmosphere a bit.

"Okay, okay. I just mean, like, if Suguru were to switch sides, that's definitely the prerogative he'd take. So, what now?"

- - - - -

You sat across from him on the city bus to your destination, an envelope in his hands.

"This is it?"

There are three newspaper clippings inside. Obituaries, spaced years apart, and non-specific. Names, dates, and kind words, but nothing more.

"Yeah... that's it."

Satoru slumps back in his seat, his blue and white kimono fanning out across the seat. He sighs and slides further down, pouting like a child who didn't get his way.

"Why not wait until we have more information, then? Seems like a waste to me."

"They host a harvest festival twice a year to bring in money, but other than that, it's pretty closed off. This is the only time I can gather information without raising suspicion."

"What are we looking for?"

"Suguru spares two little girls. I only met them once and I didn't have the opportunity to ever ask him about it, so my knowledge is limited. I know they're sorcerers and that they adored Suguru, but nothing else. I was hoping to check out their home situation, if possible. The request the elders send in is very... hostile to say the least, so I was wondering if there was some build-up to the event."

"You think maybe they're being mistreated? Suguru would definitely snap over something like that."

"I think that something happened right around the time the girls would've acquired their cursed techniques. Villages like this tend to be irrationally superstitious. Three unexplained deaths and two girls who can see monsters probably won't go over very well."

Satoru let his head fall onto the window with a loud thunk. His brain was starting to hurt. Is this really what you're up to when you sneak off? Coming up with an elaborate hypothesis based on nothing but (only possibly relevent) future knowledge and guesswork? He'd only been on the case for two hours and he was already drained.

"So what are we gonna do?"

"Depends. I brought some talismans to hide around the area at the very least. If we see anything concrete, we'll return to the school and submit an official request to Yaga."

"I don't understand why we're sneaking around. Isn't future vision a good enough reason to investigate?"

"I'd like to keep this whole thing away from the elders if possible. Yaga and I have an understanding of sorts, but the geezers aren't as amicable."

You knew Satoru could at least understand that much. While he doesn't have the extensive experience you have with them yet, he's still vividly aware of just how scrutinizing they can be.

You can see the restlessness settle onto his face. He hates the back road way of things, preferring to charge in head first and think about consequences later- a big reason (among many) that you didn't initially plan to key him into any of this.

"We can't just, I don't know, ask Suguru to chill out or something?"

You lean over him and flick his forehead. He flinches back and starts to complain, but is cut off by the screeching of the bus's brakes.

The two of you exit the vehicle and make your way down the dirt path that leads to the village. You expected to feel something, anything really, but even once you're past the torii there's nothing. No cursed energy, residuals, or any sign of abnormality.

Satoru must not see anything either, because his brows are pulled together and there's a slight frown on his face.

Even without seeing anything off about the place, it's still weird. The only time you've ever been here before was directly after the massacre. Now, not only are all of the villagers alive, but the whole area is bustling with tourists.

You only have a moment to glance over the sea of people before Satoru is pulling you over towards the food stands. He heads straight for the Takoyaki stand and stuffs a handful of yen into the vendor's hand. He practically shoves one of the trays in your face and takes one for himself before pulling you off again.

"Satoru, stop! What are you doing? We aren't here to dick around!"

Two minutes. It's only been two minutes and yet he's already lost sight of the goalpost.

He doesn't show any signs that he's heard you, instead opting to maneuver through people until you're parked next to a giant oak tree on a small hill. He drops the wrist he had taken and turns around. He's wearing that shit-eating grin, the one that clearly says he's up to no good and doesn't feel all that sorry about it.

"We can do both. Enjoy the sights, eat some food, grab some fresh produce, and gather information. Consider it a win-win situation."

"This is exactly why I didn't want you to come. You never take anything seriously."

"I'm perfectly capable of doing two things at once, princess. Besides-"

He grabs your tray and sets both down on the ground. He turns you around rather aggressively and pushes on your shoulders until you're both sat on the grass, his long legs awkwardlybent on either side of you. He leans forward so his head is over your shoulder and his hands slide down to rest on your elbows.

"Look."

You're rolling your eyes at his not-so-subtle flirting, about to lecture him, but then you see it- two little girls, a blonde and a brunette.

They're with two people who you can only assume are their parents. They seem fine. Happy. Healthy. Smiles on their face, sweet pastries in their hands, and powdered sugar on their cheeks.

You glance around from your elevated space and notice that everyone you can confidently assume belongs to this village looks fine. Vendors are laughing with their customers and farmers are helping kids pick berries off the remaining bushes.

"I don't understand..."

"It's just too early to intervene. We'll come back in the summer and go from there, okay?"

You relax your body and lean back into him.

"Yeah, okay."

"Good. Now,

He hands you the tray kindly this time and leans back just enough so he can enjoy his own while still invading your personal space.

"How about we eat our Takoyaki, browse around a bit, hang up some talismans, and then head back home? Suguru should be back tonight."

He'd successfully worn you down. You couldn't argue with him even if you wanted to. He'd gone with you to the (apparently useless) event, found exactly what you were looking for, and solidified that nothing could be done quite yet.

So what else is there to do besides having to his demands?

"... alright."

Nothing.

He smiled at you.

"Good girl."

Taglist: @wannapizzamymindposts @sadunicorns11 @reiluvr

Comment if you'd like to be added to the taglist

[darkshelbyfiction]

the debt paid

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Male Reader

Warning: Smut, Anal Sex, Dub-Con, Rough Handling,

Summary: You have a gambling debt and make a deal with Thomas Shelby for sexual favours.

The room was silent save for the rhythmic creaking of the old wooden floorboards beneath Thomas Shelby's boots as he paced back and forth. He knew exactly what to do, how to control every situation, and the way he moved about made you feel even more vulnerable than you already were. 

His eyes bore into yours with such intensity, it seemed like they held you captive, unable to break free from their grasp. Even though he had complete control over you, there was something so unsettling about the power dynamic between the two of you, making your stomach churn. 

"Are you ready to pay your debt?" His voice was cold and unforgiving, sending a shiver down your spine. You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his eyes on you. It wasn't just about the payment; it was about losing any semblance of dignity and control you once had.

With trembling hands, you nodded slowly, steeling yourself for what was to come. He took a step closer, looming over you, making your heart race faster. There was no turning back now.

"Very well then. Bend over my fucking desk, eh," he commanded, his voice dark and low. His eyes burned with raw desire as you did as you were told, your heart thudding heavily in your chest. You felt shame and humiliation course through your veins as you assumed the position, barely able to suppress the tears gathering in your eyes. But it was too late; you couldn't go back now.

"I am not...I haven't done anything like this before Mr Shelby," you whispered, the words catching in your throat. "I don't know if I can." The air around you felt heavy with anticipation, making it difficult to breathe. Your whole body trembled, the thought of being violated by someone as powerful as him causing your knees to weaken. He stepped closer, his presence towering over you as he ran his calloused fingers along your shoulders, eliciting a small gasp from you.

"Don't worry, it will only hurt for a little bit, sweetheart," he said softly, his tone almost reassuring despite the sinister undertone.

"Now push down your pants for me and free up your ass," he continued in a commanding voice, his eyes glinting with lustful intent. The tremble in your voice betrayed your fear and uncertainty, but you complied, pushing your pants down, exposing your vulnerability.

Soon, you heard his belt buckle being undone followed by the sound of his zipper sliding down.

"Your virgin ass will be nice and tight around my cock,"

he murmured, his voice carrying a hint of triumph as he moved behind you.

Despite the growing knot of fear in your stomach, you tried to steel yourself against his words, trying to remain composed under the pressure.

"Just remember," he whispered, his breath tickling your ear, "This is nothing personal, and when we're done, you'll be free from your debt." His touch was firm yet gentle, making you realize that he was fully aware of your vulnerability.

"Now spread those ass cheeks for me," he commanded, his voice harsher than usual.

You obeyed, feeling your face flush with embarrassment as you braced yourself for what was coming. With shaky hands, you reached back and parted your cheeks, exposing yourself completely to him.

The smell of his cologne filled the room, a mixture of sweetness and musk that intensified the sensations coursing through your body. As you struggled to maintain composure, you felt the heat radiating off his skin as he moved closer, his hardened arousal pressing against your exposed bottom.

You could tell he was becoming increasingly excited, his breathing heavier with each passing moment. Your body trembled with anticipation, your mind racing with questions and fears.

"I won't use lubrication, so this might be slightly uncomfortable for you," he warned, his words sending a wave of panic through your body. But you knew you had no choice; this was the price you had to pay.

As you braced yourself for his entry, you could hear his labored breathing, his muscles flexing as he gripped your hips tightly.

"Relax, it'll be over soon," he muttered, his voice laced with determination.

You closed your eyes, trying to take comfort in his assurances, focusing on the steady beat of your heart as he pressed against you.

"Just hold nice and still for me," he murmured, his tone now laced with the edge of excitement. You nodded, your palms sweaty as you clutched at the cold desk, your legs quivering with anticipation.

"One last chance to change your mind," he offered, giving you one final opportunity to back out.

But you didn't hesitate; you had already made up your mind.

"No, I'm fine," you managed to say, your voice wavering slightly.

He nodded, taking this as confirmation to proceed.

With calculated force, he entered you, filling you in a single swift thrust. You screamed involuntarily, unable to suppress the shocked pain that shot through your body. You clenched your teeth, determined not to let your agony show.

"Sssh. Be quiet now," he whispered, his voice thick with desire. "Let me teach you how it feels to be properly taken by another man," he continued, his voice full of authority. You felt a mix of dread and curiosity at his words, but you dared not question him further. Instead, you focused on finding solace in the strength of his arms, which encircled you like iron bands, holding you securely against him.

As he began to move inside you, your mind wandered between discomfort and the overwhelming knowledge that this experience would soon be over. Each thrust sent waves of both pleasure and pain coursing through your body, leaving you confused and unsure of what to make of these feelings.

Tommy's grip on your hips grew firmer, guiding you through the motions, his breathing becoming heavier with each passing second. 

"How does it feel, eh? Having another man's cock in your ass?" he asked, a hint of malice in his voice.

Your lips trembled as you attempted to answer, your body still adjusting to the foreign sensation.

"It hurts" you confessed, fighting the urge to squirm away from him. His fingers dug deeper into your hips, encouraging you to stay still as he picked up the pace.

"Bear with it, it'll get better," he assured you, his voice gruff and demanding.

"Despite, I am almost done with you," he added, his gaze intense as he penetrated you deeper.

"Think of this as a form of bonding," he continued, his tone almost patronizing. "Once it's over, we'll both feel much closer."

Your eyes widened at his suggestion, the implications of his words sending a chill down your spine. What kind of bond was he talking about?

With each thrust, the pain gradually lessened, replaced by a strange sense of familiarity as Tommy's movements became more fluid.

"Now are you going to take my cum like a good boy?" he growled, his voice low and threatening. His touch was rough and dominating, sending a thrill through your body despite the lingering discomfort.

"Yes, sir," you managed to reply, finding yourself caught up in the heat of the moment. The words tumbled out of your mouth, your submissiveness surprising even you. As you responded, you closed your eyes, attempting to block out the world around you, focusing solely on the sensations coursing through your body.

Each thrust sent waves of pleasure crashing through you, overpowering the initial pain.

The room echoed with your heavy breaths, your cries muffled by the wooden desk. His touch was firm, yet gentle, guiding you through the motions, each movement deliberate and controlled. His grip on your hips tightened, a subtle reminder of his dominance over you. As the sensations intensified, you couldn't help but wonder how far you had fallen.

The smell of leather bindings mixed with the scent of his cologne filled the air, an intoxicating blend that left you both lightheaded.

You were strangely aroused as Thomas Shelby pumped into your sore

rear end, the intensity building within you until you couldn't bear it any longer. You cried out, a fervent moan slipping past your lips. The sound seemed to fuel Thomas, whose strokes increased in speed and power.

A shiver ran down your spine as you surrendered yourself entirely to his control, letting go of whatever resistance remained. It wasn't just physical submission - there was something else happening here. Something deep inside you craved this release, and you couldn't quite understand why.

His rhythm grew steadily faster, matching yours perfectly until he announced his immanent release.

"That's it. Almost done. Fuck. I am going to cum right up that ass of yours, eh" he moaned, picking up his pace. 

His strong arms wrapped protectively around you, drawing you close, securing you against him as the earthquake hit. And then he came. His guttural groans reverberated through your core, his body trembling in post-orgasm satisfaction. As his warm seed poured into you, you cried out again.

It burned like gasoline and the sheer thought of another man ejaculating inside of you

brought tears to your eyes, only adding to the humiliation. The pain and shame subsided slowly, the aftermath mixing together in a potent brew of confusion and disbelief. His arms held you snuggly to his side, his hand absently caressing your head while the other rested possessively on your hip.

Shivers raked across your flesh and you shuddered violently beneath him, seeking some sort of relief from the sudden invasion and invasion of intimacy.

He pulled out slowly, his breaths ragged as his semen trickled from your gaping hole. For a brief moment, you locked eyes with him, the understanding evident between you two. There was no going back now—the bond was sealed, regardless of whether either of you wanted it to be.

"You did well and, maybe next time, I will let you cum as well, eh?" Tommy said casually, removing himself from you. It was a bittersweet victory. On one hand, he had granted you a small measure of autonomy – perhaps he found your resilience somewhat endearing. Yet on the other, the fact that you needed permission to come served as a constant reminder of your position in relation to him.

Dazed and exhausted, you slid gingerly off the table, careful not to leave any trace of the events transpired. Your knees wobbly from a combination of fatigue and the aftereffects of being used sexually.

"There won't be another time, Mr Shelby," you stated defiantly, regaining some semblance of dignity as you stood before him.

"We shall see. You are addicted to gambling after all and it is just a matter of time until you are indebted to me again," said Tommy, the corner of his mouth lifting ever so slightly in a half smile. 

[mrsmidnight15]

Cod MWii x (gn)Reader Sfw & Nsfw headcanons

Characters: Valeria Garza, Cap. Jonathan Price

this is a bit short cause im still getting back into writing, ill hopefully be writing longer stuff soon🎉( @sleepiexx @sheeluvsme you two are entirely to blame for this😭)

all nsfw will be at the very bottom together!

🩷valeria🩷

Because of her line of work it can be hard trying to find fun things to do together out and about without risking being seen unless you're out of the country or dressed up but Valeria has no problem coming up with things to do with you inside or in enclosed outdoor areas.

She's a smart woman and her gears don't stop turning off work. If you can play chess be prepared for total warfare, she will wipe your ass clean off the board regardless of your skill and can go for as many rounds as you're willing. However if that isn't your thing there's still plenty of other logic, mystery and puzzle games to play together.

Loves dancing, if her favorite song comes on she's immediately on you, pulling you to the floor and teaching you the steps if you don't know. If you're physically unable to then she will put on a show, completely mopping the floor. If she's feeling cheeky or you're especially shy she will start dirty dancing to try and fluster you.

💕john💕

Whenever John gets home on leave he always dedicates the first couple days to relaxing with you, he always feels horrible having to spend so much time away from you and it's his own sorta way for making up all the lost time.

turns into a total cuddlebug, and if you aren't cuddling he's still finding someway to stay close or in physical contact with you. Rests his head on your lap if you're preoccupied with an electronic or book, playful kicks and footsie under the table while you're both eating dinner.

LOVES taking baths with you, thinks it's the perfect time for you guys to just unwind and take care of each other. goes feral when you wash his hair and scratch his scalp, if you want to rile him up all you need to do is give a couple light pulls. Tries to make you laugh by building up shapes on his head with the bubbles. insists on drying you off himself when you both get out.

NSFW

Valeria

DOMMY MOMMY

although i don't think she has a mommy kink the dommy part still stands

she loves the feeling of being in control of your pleasure, taking and giving it as she pleases

Likes restraints, not only for the power it gives you but she also enjoys knowing that feel safe enough to be so vulnerable and exposed just for her

A bit possessive, loves having you repeat her name while you're seeing stars. Asking you who you belong to, making you swear no one else will ever see or feel you like this even though she already knows the answers

one of her top kinks is for sure overstimulation. Gets off on how far gone you get, solely reliant on her to keep you grounded and well. absolutely loses it in a good way when you first start squirming, simply using her weight to keep you pressed down and pliant

Will not stop until you're writhing and begging her, mocks your whines and pleas for mercy while cranking up the vibrator pressed to your sweet spots. she's really good at reading you though and always knows when to stop before it starts to become uncomfortable or needing of safeword

John

he tends to prefer domming most of the time, just enjoys having you let go for him and have fun and gets off on it too

Won't be opposed however if you ever feel like taking the reigns, he's pretty cool with most things and trying stuff out as long as your happy

manhandling kink for the win, goes both ways depending on if you or him is the bigger one

If he is, which he's quite used to being, he loves taking you up against a wall. likes having you a bit closed in, forces you to focus only on him. enjoys having your full attention to himself

If you are, he likes positions where you're on top or over him. likes being able to have a good view of you while still pressed together and the pressure of your weight is very calming to him as well

Sucker for dirty talk, likes when you do it too but if you're too shy or don't have the capacity for it he'll gladly talk the whole way through. About how good you look, how perfect you feel around/inside him. when he's close to cumming he voice gets growly and low, whispering sweet things in your ear as you both come undone

[galaxy-fleur]

Do you have any thoughts and headcanons about remake Leon pining and being down bad for someone he knew for a long time? Before Raccoon City or after all the same, i would love to read it :DD

Nothing like some good old slow-burn... It is an interesting thing to think about! Leon having someone that knew him before his life was forever changed would definitely have its upsides and downsides to it. For both parties involved. I do think a part of him will always crave that feeling of normalcy and stability that was stolen away from him. For someone to see that spark of innocence in him that he thinks he has lost now. Make him feel like that young, bright-eyed boy again that still had the control over his fate, even if for a moment.

Leon would feel more at ease, on the one hand. Someone knowing him so intimately means they actually know the real him, not just as an exceptional soldier, or a government's weapon, but as the same simple guy before the world was forever changed. And that's something he'll definitely want to indulge in. It's a nice feeling, to be looked at as a human and not as a weapon or an asset for once. He'll be overall just softer and more approachable with them. Even though he may become tough and battle-hardened, his actual self will always show through. And I'd say such a connection would bring those glimpses of his former self more often than not.

But, on the other hand, having someone who knew Leon before the Racoon City disaster also means that they see just how much he has changed. The pain and the weight of it all cannot be concealed from someone who knows you like that. There's no pretending that he's fine with being used as a tool. Not when you can compare it to that younger, truer version of himself. It's a double edged sword. Although he may find great solace in this familiarity, it may also act as a harsh reminder of what he has lost. And this goes the other way around, too. Witnessing someone you knew undergo such drastic change—and not voluntarily—must be difficult.

Seeing Leon's optimism wane and then slip away as he endures one agonizing ordeal after another must bee awful for his friend, too. While everyone else only sees a hardened professional, an old friend will only recognize a person they love pushing himself into something that's so far removed from everything they've both known.

So, there are definitely some nuances to explore here. As for Leon harboring feelings for an old friend like that... Hm, I think it depends on a position they're in, honestly. He'll definitely be way more open about it if they're in a similar line of work. However, it will be a little more difficult if they are a civilian. But his protective nature will remain constant. That's something that'll be a regular occurrence in either circumstance here.

More than anything, Leon wants to be able to protect those he cares about. It makes him sick to think of losing someone he cares about so much and not being able to keep them safe. That, of course, is a result of his failures in Racoon City. He won't be able to let go of that guilt until the events of RE4R (that's kinda what his story is about there, after all). It can become a little intrusive, depending on the personality of his friend. Although he has good intentions, his paranoid and protective nature may cause him to restrict their freedom or take away their agency in an effort to keep them safe. (I'm not talking about anything extreme here ofc!) That's something that can be a source of conflict for sure.

On a brighter note, you can also expect Leon to be way more softer, as I've already said! Tiny smiles, dumb jokes, remarks that aren't very funny but are charming in their own right, and awkward compliments every now and then. Those are all the things you can expect from him. He's not the greatest flirt, especially around someone who he has known for so long. Kinda hard to play Casanova when the person you want to woo knows all the embarrassing things about you. But he's charming without even trying.

And he's much more tactile, too! I feel like Leon tends to communicate through touch, so he has a natural tendency to be physically affectionate with those he's close to. He won't be clingy, per se. However, a light touch on your lower back or shoulder is common with him. Probably lots of headpats if his friend is shorter than him. It's a nice way to express affection without going too far with it. Will grab onto their hands, too. Mostly during an emotionally intimate moment.

Leon might even give out a hug or two for a friend like that. Most of the time, he needs it far more, honestly. Speaking of which, he's not only touchy himself, but he's also very receptive to touch, too.

For someone who always has to be on his guard, him not flinching at the touch but leaning into it instead speaks more than any words possibly could. More than anything, it's a show of trust and connection he feels to said person. It's very sweet, once you learn all the ins and outs of how he operates.

He won't go around asking for it, but if they were to go and offer him a hug? He'll absolutely melt into it.