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areyouwell · 6 months ago

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Nyctophobia

Noun: An extreme fear of the dark. Children or adults may have Nyctophobia if they are afraid to be left alone in darkness

Ch.1

Pairing: Logan Howlett x F!Mutant!Reader

Warnings: None as of yet, but we'll get there ;)

Word count: 9.2k

A/N: RIGHT FUCKERS ITS TIME. i don't think i've written a fic this long in goddamn years but here we are. DEFO ooc Logan and also timeline what timeline? Kitty is older than the rest of the students cuz i love her and i said so. reader's mutation is currently shadow-walking but that'll develop as we go on so slay boots. also I have no concept of word limits sooooo 9k chapter let's fucking go

How long had it been? Six months? A year? Two years? Honestly, you couldn’t recall. It felt like it had been forever since ol’ Charlie had sent you travelling the continent. Sure, it had been your idea to try and find mutants before they experience the most traumatic event of their lives, but you didn’t think he’d send you, and certainly not immediately. Though you were glad he did, you didn’t think Scott would make as good an impression as you could.

But, now you were back. Thank fuck. You could finally rest your weary legs and put down your heavy-as-shit bag. And at least now you could work on developing your mutation. Shadow walking. Or at least, it is now. You thought that was the extent of what you could do, just disappear and reappear whenever and wherever there happened to be a shadow cast on the ground. Or on a wall. Or anywhere really. But, Xavier had gently suggested that, perhaps, those shadows could be manipulated one way or another. You wished to fuck you knew how because your bag was all but cutting right through your shoulder.

Your boots crunched against the gravel as you took a deep breath, making your way inside. It was nice to notice nothing had changed. The lawn was still neatly mowed, brickwork hadn’t aged a day. It smelt like comfort. It smelt like home. But before you could even knock on the door, at least being courteous enough not to slip through the shadows, the oak burst open and two unidentified arms had wrapped themselves around your neck in one of the most warming hugs you’d ever received, accompanied by a high pitch squeal.

You knew instantly who that would be. Brown hair spilled across her shoulders, smelling faintly of lavender. “Hey Kitty,” you grinned, dropping your bag to return her tight embrace. It truly did feel like forever.

“I’m so happy to see you it’s been years! We thought you were never coming back! Scott thought you’d died and Charles wasn’t telling us, Logan didn’t think you even existed and that we were all lying, Jean thought you’d just got sick of this place and dipped, it was carnage!” She rambled, her deep brown eyes sparkling slightly. You had to take a minute to actually comprehend what the fuck she was saying before your lips split into a broad smile.

“Well, I can tell you that I’m not dead, at least not yet, and I do very much exist and I am not sick of this place despite what Jean may think. And– wait who’s Logan?” Your brain had only just caught up with the fact that Kit had mentioned a name completely unfamiliar to you. Just how long had you been gone?

“Oh, right yeah. A new teacher,” Kitty kept one arm around your shoulder as she guided you back inside, stopping only when you realised your bag was still left discarded by the front door. “He uh, sorta took your position as PE and combat professor… sorry.” She looked genuinely apologetic, whilst internally, you couldn’t be more grateful. You always thought you weren’t ever cut out to teach, and whilst you sometimes enjoyed it, you were always too worried about the kids being hurt.

“I’m hurt, a girl’s gone for a year or two and you replace her? What kind of school is this?” you cracked a smile, Kitty’s face morphing from remorse to relief. She really thought you’d be upset? You were touched. “Anyway, what time is it? Where is everyone? I thought classes stopped at–” You were cut off abruptly upon entering the lounge.

“Welcome back!” you covered your face at the chorus of voices, laughing behind your hands before clutching your heart dramatically.

“Christ! You’ve all just knocked five years off my life!” you grinned, faces both familiar and unfamiliar laughing and smiling just to see you.

“They’ve been looking forward to this for days. Ever since rumour of your return started circulating, they’ve been pestering us nonstop for a date. Eventually, someone caved,” You didn’t need to see Scott’s eyes in order to know he was giving Kitty a pointed look behind his glasses. You looked back to see her looking sheepish.

“Yeah well… they can be really persuasive.” She shrugged, taking your bag off your shoulder and placing it out of the way. You sighed at the loss of weight, rolling your joint slightly.

“It’s good to see you,” Scott pulled you in for a brief hug, clapping your back once before pulling back, letting the rest of your friends and pupils make their way over. You were consumed by various arms of embraces, questions about your travels, introductions to new students, reminiscing with old students. It was quite possibly the best moment you’d had since you left. But a face caught your eye at the back of the crowd. A young girl, with the same dark brown hair you remember, only now a streak of brilliant white framed her face.

You made your way over, shuffling through the crowd, clasping hands and shoulders with people you knew before finally getting to her.

“Hey you,” you smiled gently, remembering how timid and easy to scare she used to be. You were caught off guard completely by her sudden bright smile.

“Hey.”

“How long’ve you been here? I didn’t actually think you’d listen to me to be brutally honest with you, thought you’d just shrug it off and continue your own path,” you were relieved to see she had listened to what you’d said two years ago. You’d urged her down this path, to find the school. You’d already known Charles would take her, it was just a matter of her taking herself here.

“Uh… about that…” you’d only seen a smile that sheepish on Kitty. You cocked a brow, head tilting to the side slightly before a hand on your shoulder caused you to whirl. But it was just Ororo. Clearly, your travels had affected you more than you originally thought.

But Storm wasn’t looking at you, you could only see the back of her white hair as she frantically waved at someone through the crowd, beckoning them over.

“Logan!”

Ah, you guess that made sense now.

Whoever you’d expected to walk through the crowd, you threw that image out your mental window the moment you saw him.

Now you understood why he taught combat and PE… he was fucking ripped. White t-shirt leaving nothing to the imagination. The facial hair was an interesting choice, but you couldn’t say it didn’t suit him. He was very… rugged lumberjack looking.

You placed a hand on your hip, brows raised in intrigue as he made his way over. You don’t think you’d ever seen a grumpier-looking man.

“Logan, this is Phantom,” your eyes slid to Ororo as she used your mutant name.

“Ah, so you do exist,” his voice seemed a perfect match for the rest of him, just as rough and rugged as the worn jeans he was wearing. You nodded, mouth quirking into a small smirk.

“Heard there was some debate over that, glad I could put it to rest,” you outstretched your hand for him to shake, something you were surprised he actually did, calloused palm encasing your own.

“Can ya blame me?” He asked with a raised brow, dropping your hand after a beat too long. Clearly unaccustomed to civility, judging from his appearance.

“Guess not. You’re also the son-of-a-bitch that stole my position, right?” You asked, wanting to be a lot more serious than you actually were being, but for some reason, you couldn’t help grinning slightly.

“Language!” Storm elbowed you slightly. Guess you’d forgotten how to behave around the kids too.

Logan held his hands up in surrender. “In my defense, I didn’t think you existed,” though he also seemed serious, you thought you could detect something that could be perceived as humour in his hazel eyes. You couldn’t keep up your poorly constructed façade anymore, waving your hand as if to physically clear the air between the two of you.

“I’m kidding, you can keep it. In all honesty, I was never really cut out for it.” You shrugged. “Besides, I’m–”

“She’s being super modest by the way, she rocked as that professor!” Kitty called from the other side of the room, somehow managing to listen to your conversation. You didn’t know how, since the entire welcome party was still chatting way, but you cast her a withering look nonetheless.

“So I’ve heard,” Logan’s eyes slid from Kitty back to you as you scoffed.

“Though, of course, it was purely hypothetical, since I didn’t exist and all.” You teased, gesturing to your very much existing self. You silently triumphed over the fact you managed to drag a small smile out of him, realising that making this man pull any other expression other than irritation was something to be proud of.

You hadn’t realised how completely caught up in the introduction you’d been before you noticed the girl still standing next to you, eyes flicking between you and Logan with a small smile pulling at the corners of her lips.

“Anyway,” you continued pointedly, “you were saying? So you didn’t come to find this place?” your head tilted again slightly in confusion. “How did you end up here?”

Rogue looked from you to Logan, who’s eyes were still trained on you. You looked between them. “Nope, still confused. How did…?”

“Well, after you found me, I did carry on my own path, which led me to some shady bar where Logan found me,” she explained quietly.

“More you found me but sure.” He shrugged. You could tell there was some kind of bond between them, one you could recognise was only built through trauma. You’d heard a little of what happened with Eric through Charles’ telepathic link, but he always reassured you to continue what you were doing. But you often wondered what could have happened if you’d returned.

“So, you brought her here?” You asked, trying to prompt the story forward. Honestly, you wanted to know how he’d succeeded where you’d failed. You could be incredibly persuasive when you wanted to be, but Rogue was stubborn on another level.

“Me? Nah, didn’t know this place existed at that point.”

“Seems to be a common theme with you,” you couldn’t help the subtle teasing grin spreading across your face, nor your laugh as he rolled his eyes skyward.

“Never gonna live that down, am I?”

“Not whilst I’m still breathing,” you winked, before turning your attention back to Rogue and completely missing the way his features shuddered slightly. “So how’d you get here if tall, dark, and broody over here didn’t know about this?”

“Tall, dark, and– what?” He asked, bewildered.

Ororo snorted in amusement, before stepping in. “That would be us. We’d been tracking another mutant, Sabretooth, and he just so happened to be tracking Logan, or so we thought at the time. We found Sabretooth, and these two at the same time. Brought them both back.”

You nodded in understanding, now finally having got through the whole story. Well, maybe not the whole story, you knew there were details you definitely were missing, but at least you got the jist.

“I see. Glad it wasn’t my lack of persuasive skills then. Though I guess a life or death situation isn’t much better. How’s your mutation coming along?” you asked, only now noticing the black, elbow-length gloves she was wearing. Ah.

“Still hard to control, but I’m getting better at it!” She looked genuinely enthusiastic about her mutation, so much so that it almost brought a tear to your eye. When you’d met her two years ago, you didn’t know if she even wanted help. She’d been so lost in her despair and self-loathing that you didn’t think she had long left with the way her mental health was going. So to see her so happy, your throat closed up slightly.

“I’m glad, I really am. You deserve this, Rogue. All of this,” you gestured to the room around, to the friends she’d made, to the haven she’d found.

“Oh, my name’s Marie. Guess I didn’t tell you before.” She shrugged, and you had to laugh to stop yourself from crying.

“Marie it is.” Her story touched your heart, and to see she managed to get her happy ending… fuck you were so close to crying. You had to change the subject before you broke down in front of these people. “Oh hey, is my room still the same? Wouldn’t mind freshening up a little, been a long journey.” Two birds with one stone. You could leave the situation and cry in your bathroom whilst taking a shower so you didn’t smell like the wrong end of a skunk. Perfect!

“Uh…” Storm started.

“About that…” Kitty continued, coming over to stand alongside Storm. You looked between them, before shooting a glance to Logan who seemed to be showing absolutely no remorse.

“Your bed’s real comfy, bub” he smirked, and you gaped.

“You’re fucking kidding me?”

“Language!” both Ororo and Kitty said at the same time, and you winced.

“Fuck, sorry. Shit! Argh!” you gave up, throwing your hands in the air. “I’m not letting any of you off the hook. This is betrayal at its finest! Giving him my position I can handle, but my damn room? That’s shocking behaviour from the both of you!” You pointed at them accusingly, shooting a glare to the man next to you who was doing nothing but lowly chuckling. You breathe out a sigh. You had the best room in the whole mansion. Or at least you did, before Muscles McGee stole it from you.

“Don’t blame those two” Jean placed a calming hand on your shoulder. “we didn’t have another room made up when these two arrived. It was supposed to be temporary, but–”

“The view was too nice to pass up on,” Logan interjected. You realised he probably thought it was his turn to tease you. You knew that view was nice, it was overlooking the entire grounds behind the school. And whilst you were going to sorely miss it, you weren’t so heartless that you’d take it back from him. Besides, in a weird way, you felt like you owed him. He found Marie, and whatever transpired between them, she seemed happier now. You guessed you maybe had him to thank for that.

“Yeah yeah, alright fine. I concede. Where am I then?” you asked Jean, who broke into a broad smile.

“You’re in the one above, still got the same view, don’t worry,” she elbowed you slightly. That wasn’t so bad actually. Same view, same side of the mansion, just one story up? You breathed a sigh of relief. Yeah, you could do that.

“Good enough, I’m still mad about it though.” Your eyes narrowed at four of them, Logan included, before cracking your neck in preparation to take your bag all the way up the stairs.

Kitty clapped her hands excitedly, and you raised a brow in suspicion. “What’s got you so giddy?” you asked as she once again slid her arm across your shoulders, guiding you back towards the door.

“Oh nothing, just glad you're home. It’s been kinda boring without you.” You laughed at that. With everything that’s been going on, you didn’t think any of them had time to be bored. But you appreciated the thought nonetheless.

Eyeing your bag on the ground, there were times when you really wished your mutation involved some kind of super strength, because as happy as you were to be home and have a room just above your old one, you really didn’t want to lug that thing all the way up. And all the damn lights were on, so slipping up through the shadows was a no-go. You blew out a breath in preparation, rolling your shoulder once again, before you were stopped by a broad hand landing on your arm.

“I got it,” Logan’s voice weaved butterflies through your stomach. You hadn’t realised he was behind you before he was leaning down next to you and effortlessly slinging the bag over his own shoulder.

For the second time that afternoon, you gaped up at him, left almost speechless.

“Super strength?” Was all you could say, hoping to Jesus he knew what you were asking. You watched his features morph from confusion to amusement as he shook his head slightly.

“Nah, not quite.”

“Then how the fu–” you were reminded of the children present by a sharp elbow to the ribs from Kitty. “–uuun. How fun.” you gave up on your question, much to his mirth. The sight had your brain short-circuiting. You wouldn’t deny he was good-looking. You’d be fucking crazy to deny that. But there was something else hidden under all those knowing smirks and sharp glances. Something that you wouldn’t mind uncovering.

Deciding that was a quest for another day, you turned abruptly on your heel, making your way to the staircase before once again stopping in your tracks. This was starting to get on your nerves a little. However, any irritation soon died as you finally saw Professor Xavier.

“Ah, I wondered whether the commotion was your return.”

You snorted a laugh. “No, you didn’t. You absolutely knew it was my return.” You quipped back, earning yourself a laugh from the man.

“As quick as ever. And I see you’ve met our Wolverine.” Charles nodded to Logan next to you, and you turned to him in bemusement.

“Wolverine? Seriously?” you asked, laughing at his shrug. “Can’t think why…” your sarcastic jab paired with your pointed looks from his hair to his body brought another amused smirk from the man.

“I thought you two would get along. Get yourself settled back in and meet me in my office and your earliest convenience.” You nodded back to Xavier, unable to take a moment to process what he meant when he said he thought you and Logan would get along before Kitty began dragging you towards the stairs.

“C’mon! You’re gonna love it!”You were slightly worried about what it was but followed her nonetheless.

Logan had to admit, he didn’t mind carrying your bag up four flights of stairs. It wasn’t the worst way to spend his afternoon. And as much as he wasn’t the kind of guy to stare at a woman’s ass, he wasn’t mad that he was behind you.

Everything he’d been told about you had been proven correct. At least, everything he’d seen so far. Whether or not you could hold yourself in a fight was up for debate, but everything else, your wit, your charm, heartbreaking kindness, humour… it was all right there in front of him.

Literally.

He’d lost count of how many times he’d had to bite back a smile or a laugh, stunned by the fact that you actually managed to break through and pull both from him. Even now, as you paused before the landing that lead to your old room and sighed wistfully, had had to stop himself grinning. And he was glad you turned back around quickly after throwing him a pointed glare over your shoulder because that was another smile he was struggling to rein in. Fuck, how did you do it? He’d only known you for half an hour and he’d displayed more expression than he had in his whole two years of being here.

He was in huge trouble.

The stairs finally flattened out to the top floor landing, Kitty still leading the way down the corridor until the final room. It was isolated, like his one floor below, and he guessed you must like it that way. Which he thought strange. The way you were with others, he hadn’t exactly pegged you for being someone who liked her space. But then again, he’d only known you for thirty minutes.

He had to remind himself of that.

“Here we are!” Kitty grinned excitedly, stepping to the side to let you open the door yourself. Logan knew what you’d find behind the wood. He’d helped set it up after all. Some twisted guilt forced him into helping. At least, that’s what he told himself.

You eyed Kitty suspiciously, before twisting the handle on the door, pushing slightly to reveal what she was so excited about.

If Logan was being honest, your expression was worth all the consuming guilt he’d felt by taking your room. A smile of pure, unadulterated awe wiped all thought from his mind, your eyes were practically glowing.

“You… Kitty, you didn’t need to do this,” You looked back to the giddy girl and pulled her into a tight hug. Everything you remembered was here. Your posters, fairy lights, and every single plant you’d nourished and grown made your room look like a rainforest. The light in the ceiling had been covered by patterns to ensure there was always shadows cast somewhere, whether it be floor, wall, or ceiling.

“It wasn’t just me! I employed help,” Kitty smiled, taking the liberties she knew she had to sit cross-legged on your bed. “And others offered to help.”

Logan held his breath as he felt your attention shift from Kitty to him, meeting your gaze of sheer wonder.

“You helped?” you asked, taking your bag from his shoulder, though he was almost too caught up in your gaze to notice.

“Here an’ there…” he muttered, trying to calm himself by leaning against the doorframe, folding his arms across his chest, attempting to escape your eyes by looking around your room.

“Here and there? That’s such a lie! He’d heard about your mutation, the shadow-casting thing was his idea!” Kitty grinned excitedly, and you all but choked on the realisation. He did this for you. He didn’t even know you, and he did this for you.

“Kitty, that’s en–oof!” Logan barely had time to react before your arms were around his neck, your chin resting on his shoulder. Your scent hit him like a truck, and it was nothing like how he’d imagine it. Not that he had imagined it…

“Thank you,” you whispered earnestly, and any guard he’d put up previously melted away. He didn’t exactly return your embrace, but his hands somehow found your waist as you pulled back, keeping your arms across his shoulders. “Maybe I can forgive you for stealing my old room now. Oh! And my job. And not believing I exist,” your grin held more mischief than he ever thought possible, but now you were back to teasing, he felt his thoughts return.

“Anythin’ else?” He asked, mirroring your expression.

“Not yet, but I’m sure I’ll think of something,” was it Logan’s sudden and overactive imagination, or did your eyes just flicker to his lips?

Was it the sudden physical contact that made your body hum this way, or was it just the fact that he could bench-press three of you? You didn’t care, and somehow, you didn’t think he did either.

Until very suddenly and very abruptly, you did care. You stepped out of his hands far too quickly for his liking, your arms falling back by your sides. Though you didn’t look like you regretted anything.

“I really appreciate this, from both of you. And whoever else helped. This is… well it’s better than what I was imagining,” you gestured to the room around you. It truly was perfect for you. They’d really outdone themselves. He’d really outdone himself. And you couldn’t help the warmth that spread from the centre of your chest to your limbs. You wanted to know more about him. “What’s your mutation, by the way? You never said,” you asked before you could stop yourself, and Logan blinked in surprise.

Holding his fist up, he flexed the tendons holding his claws. He no longer winced when his knuckles split. No longer grimaced as he sliced through his own flesh, though watching your face did cause him to worry just a little.

You held your silence for a moment, not really knowing what to say. That looked painful as fuck, but you felt that asking might make it worse. “I see…” was all you said, before it hit you. “Wolverine! I get it now. It made sense before but now it actually fits!” You exclaimed, chuckling at his confusion.

“Whaddya mean it made sense before?”

“Don’t think too much into it,” you winked again, and Logan swore his heart stopped.

“Yeah, alright Phantom.” He cocked a brow at the playful narrow of your eyes before you melted into the shadows right in front of him. He’d been made aware of your mutation, having overheard Jean using both you and Kitty as examples of phasing mutants, but to actually see it for himself? He couldn’t say he wasn’t impressed. He glanced around the room, retracting his claws as he looked for where you could have gone.

“Get it now?”

Logan whipped around to see you standing behind him, arms folded across your chest, a mischievous grin plastered across your features.

You always felt a sense of freedom when you released yourself into the shadows, like holding yourself in this corporeal state was somewhat of an effort. But letting yourself be free, to move like liquid amongst the darkness, it was like refueling a beaten truck.

Logan’s lips quirked into a smile as he nodded once. “Got it,” the silence lingered once again, some kind of charge energy crackled in the space between the two of you before he cleared his throat. “Kitty, we should– the fuck?”

You popped your head to the side, peering around Logan to see the space on your bed Kitty used to be sitting in was now completely empty. “Guess she left,” you shrugged. “Or she never existed.” That earned you a flick to the forehead from Logan, and you laughed, batting away his hand. How long had it been since you’d felt this comfortable with someone this quickly? Either it had been years, or never.

“I’ll leave you to it,” he smiled, this time completely unrestrained. And fuck was he gorgeous. But you had to remember this was a man you’d just met.

He had to remember this was a woman he’d just met.

“Yeah, thanks. I’ll uh, see you later?” You didn’t mean for your voice to sound so hopeful at the end, but honestly? It was worth seeing him turn back to you with that same smirk you’d seen countless times already.

“Sure.” He said, before closing the door.

You sat heavily on your bed, your head in your hands. “What the fuck?”

Little did you know, Logan was having a similar reaction right outside your door, his back against the wood as he pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “What. The. Fuck?”

Having almost drowned yourself in the shower, using that shampoo you’d missed so dearly on your travels, you’d changed clothes into something a lot more comfortable, a loose pair of sweats and a spaghetti strap tank top, before heading down to Xavier’s office where he’d just spent the last ten minutes explaining his plans to further your mutation. And to be completely honest with yourself, you hadn’t listened to half of it.

“So, in short, your ability, whilst appearing similar to Kitty’s, is actually entirely different. Where Kitty phases through objects, you become those shadows. Your molecules break down completely, unlike Miss Pryde.” He finished his explanation slowly, and you didn’t have the heart to tell him you had no idea what he’d just said. Luckily, when conversing with a telepath, you didn’t have to.

Charles sighed, rubbing his forehead slightly. “You’ve always said you felt a strain on yourself whilst corporeal, yes?” He asked, and you breathed in relief. Finally, a question you could answer.

“Yeah, it’s like I’m holding water with my bare hands. Or something like that,” you nodded, looking at yourself slightly curiously. “So, I’m not like Kitty?” you clarified, looking back up the the professor, who shook his head.

“I’m afraid not. We were mistaken before, simply assuming you were just another phasing mutant. But Jean ran some tests on your blood, and it was quite remarkable.” You’d almost forgotten the woman was in the room until she cleared her throat, her red hair pulled up in a tight ponytail.

“I think you describe it perfectly. Your molecules are being held together, more or less, by string, or so to speak. Not real string, but I think you understand.” You nodded. You actually did understand, because that’s how you constantly felt. It was, however, incredibly unnerving. What would happen if that string frayed? Or worse, fucking snapped altogether? Sensing your distress, Charles covered your hand with his own.

“My dear, that’s why we brought you back. We’ve been incredibly lucky so far, and clearly, you have an innate ability to control the string. It’s led us to believe that your abilities don’t stop at shadow walking.” He looked at you with understanding as you took this all in. He’d mentioned to you previously that he thinks you could do more.

“Shadow manipulation, right?” You asked though the question was rhetorical. You knew that’s where they were going with this. Charles glanced at Jean who nodded in confirmation.

“Essentially, yes. We think you could pull shadows from an already existing cast and wield them to your heart’s content. In… theory.” She hesitated, and you blew out a breath.

“But in practice?”

“In practice… honestly we don’t know. It will be a learning curve for all of us, to be blunt.” You nodded a little numbly. You’d only just returned and already you were being bombarded with hard truths.

Once again sensing your distress, Charles cleared his throat. “Well, I think we should continue this discussion tomorrow. You’ve had a long day and perhaps right now isn’t the best time to be entertaining new ideas.” He threw another look to Jean and she nodded again, standing from her seat.

You couldn’t agree more. This was a lot to take in. Especially since you’d become so comfortable with your mutation, believing that you were just another phaser like Kitty. But now, you were something else completely, something unknown. Even to yourself. It… scared you. And you didn’t scare easily. Worry? Sure. Impending sense of dread? Absolutely. Fear? Never.

“Right. Thanks, Professor. I’ll uh, see you tomorrow then.” You dipped your head goodbye, before leaving his office and closing the door behind you. Tea. You needed tea. Fuck you needed something stronger than tea, but since this was a goddamn school, alcohol was strictly prohibited.

Fuck’s sake.

Dragging a hand down the side of your face, you absently made your way to the kitchen and flicked on the kettle. Muscle memory guided you to the drinks cupboard, moving aside the jar of decaff coffee to reveal your personal stash of teabags. Whilst primarily you were a coffee drinker, when it was this late in the evening, you tended to steer clear of the caffeine. You weren’t the best at sleeping to begin with, let alone when your mind and body were buzzing.

You didn’t turn when you heard footsteps behind you, and the scrape of one of the chairs against the wooden floor, too focussed on rifling through the cupboard adjacent to the drinks one for our favourite mug. A gift from Kitty, she’d had custom-made for the print on the side to say ‘Phasers Forever!’. It made you a little sad to think about now. But, thankfully you found it, nestled right at the back next to the mug you’d gifted her. Also custom-made, but this just had the image of two hands with their little fingers linked. You’d made sure the gloves matched the ones you both wore in your suits.

Dropping the teabag into the mug, you instantly savoured the scented steam as you poured the hot water, even the aroma calming your slightly frayed nerves. Wow, that meeting had seriously rattled you. Looping the string and tag over the lip of the mug, you turned back to the room, only to almost drop your freshly made drink in surprise.

Logan. Hair slightly damp, in a white v-neck tank, sat at the far end of the table, leaning back in the chair with a bottle of what you could have sworn was larger in his bear paw of a hand. That same fucking smirk pulled at his lips.

“Phantom.” He raised his bottle in greeting. You wished you could match his energy, but honestly, you were drained from the day and the meeting. But you tried nonetheless.

“Wolvie.” You smiled back, though you could feel it didn’t reach your eyes. And clearly, he noticed too, expression shifting from self-assured confidence to slight concern.

“You alright?” Logan had only known you for less than a day, and he already knew he really didn’t like seeing you despondent.

“Yeah, fine.” It almost pained him physically seeing your eyes remain dull with your liar’s smile. That was something else he realised in that split second.

He really didn’t like you lying to him.

“Uh huh?” Fuck, he definitely knew you were hiding everything. How the fuck could he possibly tell that? He didn’t even know you! You sighed heavily, hoping it would help your next half-truth.

“I’m just tired. Long day, lots of emotions. Are you hungry? I’m starved and was gonna make pasta if you wanted some,” You tried your best to steer the conversation away from how you were feeling. Once again it wasn’t exactly a lie. You were starving, having not eaten since this morning, and it was now ten in the evening.

Logan knew you turned away quickly so you didn’t have to see his suspicion. If you weren’t ready to talk about whatever was bothering you, he knew he shouldn’t push. But, to his surprise, he found himself wanting to know. He wanted to know what was up, and maybe, just maybe, he could make you feel better. It seemed doubtful, but it was worth a shot. “How was your meeting with Charles?”

Your shoulders tensed, spine straightening. Gotcha.

“Yeah, fine. Just easing me back into life here basically. Nothing earthshattering.” Now that was a flat out lie, and once again you refused to turn around as you brought the kettle over to the tap, filling it to the max line before placing it back on the stand and flicking the switch. You found it easier to lie when you were busy doing something else and making pasta seemed perfect. Crouching to one of the lower cupboards, you pulled out the pack of wholewheat, refusing to eat any of the sugary white bullshit. Unfortunately, the one downside of busying yourself so remarkably well was that you weren’t always paying attention to what was going on around you.

For example, Logan walking up behind you to take the packet from your hand and place it on the counter. You turned, realising he’d given you minimal space to move. He was so close you could smell the gel he used in the shower. Woodsy and smoky, like a forest cabin. He smelt fucking great, but to be honest, you were too busy trying to avoid eye contact to care.

“S’that why you look like your pet just died?” You knew he was trying to be teasing, trying to lighten the mood, trying to create a comfortable environment for you to open up in, but you didn’t know him, and he didn’t know you. With a deep breath, you stepped to the side and out of his reach, opening the fridge to look for something to make a nice creamy sauce with.

“Look, Logan. I appreciate it, and what you’re trying to do, but at the same time, I don’t know you. And you don’t know me. So, and I mean this with the utmost respect, fucking drop it. I’m tired and I have genuinely had a long day, what more do you want me to say?”

Logan blinked. And blinked again for good measure. He wasn’t expecting you to be so sharp. He didn’t know why he wasn’t expecting it, but you really took him by surprise. That seemed to be all you were doing since the moment he met you. Though this one stung a little more than he cared to admit. “That might’ve been the nicest fuck off I’ve ever heard. But it was still a fuck off.” He shrugged. He knew deep down you were right. You didn’t know each other, and maybe was was expecting a little too much from a three-hour friendship. If he could even call it that.

“I didn’t mean–” You turned back from the fridge just in time to watch his disappearing form leave through the door, hearing his footsteps recede back up the stairs. You cursed inwardly, hating yourself for how you handled the situation. Though, looking at the pasta on the counter, you had an idea as to how to fix some of this.

It had been roughly half an hour since he’d left you in the kitchen, recognising you needed space, and in all honesty? Retreating to lick his own wounds. He didn’t know why he wanted you to open up so badly. It wasn’t like he had a long-lasting friendship with you. He met you today, for fuck’s sake. Only hours ago. Shit, this morning he still didn’t think you existed! Logan groaned at the memory of you shutting him down, wishing he’d handled the situation differently, and stopped prodding when he knew he should have. Fuck!

He’d just managed to resolve to come and talk to you, before there was a thump at his bedroom door, followed by another. That wasn’t any kind of fist knocking…

With deliberate caution, Logan stood from his bed, shining claws sliding through his knuckles as he approached the door, only for his nerves to be calmed when a familiar scent wafted through the cracks in the door. He didn’t dare get his hopes up until he turned the handle, pulling the door open to reveal you, stood before him, two steaming plates of pasta held impressively in one hand, and two bottles of larger in the other, your foot raised to kick the door a third time.

“Before you slam the door, I brought peace pesto pasta, homemade so you know it’s good.” You were honestly surprised he opened the door, though you eyed his claws cautiously. Who did he think it was?

Logan noticed your line of sight, retracting his claws to cross his arms, a brow raised. “Peace pesto pasta?”

You nodded. “Homemade, don’t forget.” Logan smiled slightly at the hope in your eyes. “And also beer so you physically can’t turn me down.” You raised the two bottles in your hand, and he sighed as if you were a nuisance. Unfortunately for him, that couldn’t be further from the truth.

“Homemade peace pesto, beer, and…?”

You stuck your tongue in your cheek. “An apology.” You reluctantly admitted, looking anywhere but his face. “Can I come in or are you gonna stare at me all evening? These aren’t the most balanced plates, been a while since I was a waitress so…” you mumbled in explanation, earning yourself a quizzical look.

“You were a waitress?”

“Yes and it was a long time ago but we can talk all about it if I can set these down somewhere they won’t fall on your feet,” you said hurriedly, borderline pleading with your eyes for him to let you in. It wasn’t as if he was about to say no, there was just something comical about the way you were managing to hold everything in your hands.

With a click of his tongue, he gestured for you to enter with his head, closing the door behind you as you set one of the plates down on the window seat, rubbing the red skin of your arm where the hot plate had ever so slightly burned you. He instantly felt bad, crossing the room with the intention to take your arm to look at it before you stuck it into the shadow on the wall, removing it again to reveal your skin pristine again.

“It wasn’t that bad, just uncomfortable,” you shrugged, handing a plate and bottle to him. Logan shook his head at what he’d just seen, giving you a look of ‘fair enough’ before taking the plate and beer gratefully. How long had it been since someone cooked for him? Though you’d done it as a peace offering, it still warmed his heart slightly. That and the fact it smelt fucking divine.

“I’m sorry…” you started, mindlessly poking your pasta around your plate with your fork after making yourself comfortable on his window seat. He guessed it used to be your window seat, but it still made him happy how comfortable you looked. “The Professor told me something in the meeting and… rattled me, that’s all,” you shrugged, popping a few pieces of green pasta into your mouth and chewing thoughtfully.

Logan decided to wait for you to continue, cracking open the bottle top of his beer with his teeth. Raising a brow as you looked over at him in slightly disturbed awe.

“How did you not just break your jaw?” you asked, flabbergasted at his seemingly endless pool of abilities.

“Not much can break it, considering my skeleton’s adamantium.” Logan was starting to like when you gaped at him in shock, admiring the way you jaw went completely slack, eyes wide.

“Wait, how don't you– ohhhhh…” It had taken you a while to notice just how much the bed dipped when he sat down. No wonder he was so ripped, he had to be that strong in order to fucking walk around. “Any other secrets you're hiding?” You asked, before instantly regretting the question when his eyes met yours.

“You wanna talk about keeping secrets now?” He asked curtly.

“Walked into that one…”

“Yeah, you kinda did.”

You sighed, fiddling with the bottle cap of your beer. Not to remove it, just to feel the sensation of the almost serrated edges helped to ground yourself.

“You know about my mutation, the whole shadow-walking thing?” You asked, to which Logan responded with a nod, finally taking a bite of the pasta you’d made. Your heart swelled with pride as he paused, looking from the food to you with an impressed smile. “So, turns out, it’s nothing like Kitty’s. It’s not phasing like we originally thought, but something totally different.” You started to explain to an intensely listening Logan. “Kitty phases through things. I actually become the shadows I enter. Like, it’s not still my body but just in the shadow, my molecules break down to literally be the shadow,” you could tell he was trying to understand, his head tilting slightly to the side in a way you genuinely found cute. “It’s like, I’m holding water in my bare hands,” you started to demonstrate, placing your plate and bottle down beside you to cup your hands in front of you. “And this, this is my body. My corporeal body. But, when I dive into shadows, that body breaks down,” your cupped hands splayed apart, fingers spread to simulate a liquid splash. Logan nodded thoughtfully through mouthfuls of pasta. “How Jean explained it was that my molecules are held together with some kind of thread, and I control that thread, but it’s a constant strain… Like, I can feel my body being held together. And it just… I don’t know. It scared me I guess.”

The room fell into silence as you finished your explanation, Logan setting his somehow clean plate to the side, leaning his elbows against his spread knees, beer bottle clasped in both hands. “I uh, don’t really understand what’s scary bubs, sounds like this is an opportunity to develop it, right?” he asked, eyes searching your face for any sign you were reassured.

You sighed, the back of your head softly hitting the wall behind you. “Well apparently we’ve been lucky so far, and my control over this string or thread or whatever the fuck is stronger than they thought but… I don’t know, I guess what first went through my mind was what would happen if the thread snapped. Would I just stop being able to shadow walk or–”

“Would you stop altogether, and be able to do nothing but shadow walk,” Logan finished, realisation dawning on his gruff features. You nodded slightly, not wanting to speak anything into existence.

“Exactly.” You whispered, staring into your borderline untouched pasta. You honestly didn’t know what to do, and you didn’t know what could be done. Surely, at this point, it was just a matter of time, right? The thought hit you like a lightning bolt. If it was just a matter of time, you just burdened this poor man, who you’d only met hours ago, with the knowledge that, eventually, you were likely just simply dissolve into nothing, cursed to live forever in the shadows of others. “Anyway, yeah, that’s why I had a face like, how did you put it? Like my pet just died,” You did your best to imitate his voice, hoping to shit it would lighten the mood of the room, but it only earned you a look of sympathy.

Fucking sympathy. You hated sympathy.

You’d come in here in the hopes to make things right with him and apologise for how you were earlier, but the one thing you really didn’t want, and never fucking wanted, was sympathy. You sighed heavily, preparing yourself for whatever ‘I’m so sorry this is happening speech’ he was clearly getting ready to spill.

But for the umpteenth time in the short while you’d known him, Logan surprised you. Taking your bottle of beer from your side, he cracked the lid off with his teeth, the same as before, before handing it back to you. You, as stunned as you were, managed to take it from his hand, the soft skin of your fingertips brushing the backs of his own. You smiled in resignation, raising your bottle in some tragic excuse of a toast. ‘To the inevitable’ you wanted to say, but you physically bit your tongue before taking a long sip of the slightly bitter liquid.

“It won’t come to that,” you’d forgotten, in the period of silence, that you were waiting for him to say something. You tilted your head in confusion, and it honestly took all of Logan’s willpower not to launch into you and wrap you up in his arms. He really needed to pull himself together. “Look, I was pretty fuckin’ helpless when I came here. And I know you remember the state Marie was in. Neither of us thought we were worth savin’, but look at us now,” in complete honesty, Logan still didn’t think he was worth saving, but that was neither here nor there. “He’ll help ya. You’ll get this under control. And it ain’t all bad. He already said you had more control than he thought,” You could feel his eyes search your face as you closed yours. Maybe he was right. Charles had said you had more control over these strings than he thought.

Logan was right. That was a good thing.

“Well, we’ll see tomorrow. That’s when we really start everything. We have another meeting before we’re straight into training, seeing if we can really develop this mutation before I cease to exist. No pressure right?” You half-joked, your lips quirking up into what you hoped was a smile. Or, at least, a lopsided one.

Fuck he wanted to kiss you. Kiss you. When the hell was the last time he’d felt like this toward anyone? He hadn’t wanted to kiss anyone in goddamn years, and here you were, a woman he didn’t even believe existed a few hours ago, waltzing into his life and making him feel things like wanting to fucking kiss you.

“I uh… ya know I wanted to apologise too.”

Well, that caught you off guard. “Wh– wait what? Why? What for?” you couldn’t help firing off questions at speeds you didn’t know you were capable of, utter bafflement contorting your features.

“You were right. I don’t know you. And you don’t know me.” Logan watched as your face transformed from confusion, to hurt, to acceptance.

“Yeah…. I did say that didn’t I? I–”

“But,” he interrupted, stopping you mid-sentence. “That doesn’t mean I don’t wanna know ya…” Logan almost laughed aloud at how your eyes went comically wide. Did you know how cute you were? When you weren’t telling him to fuck off, that is.

“I– Uh, okay, sure… what d’ya wanna know?” you asked, hoping to fuck you didn’t sound ridiculous. If you didn’t, Logan didn’t seem to mind or care.

“You can start of by tellin’ me how or where you learned to cook so well,” you scoffed loudly, rolling you eyes. “Nah I’m serious kid, that was fuckin’ great,” Logan leaned against the headboard, an arm positioned behind his head as you too made yourself comfortable again on the window seat, resting your elbow on your raised knee.

“Kid? Do you know how old I am?” you asked, smirking slightly. Though you were a little embarrassed, there was no way you’d show it. Kid? Did he seriously think you were that young?

“Do you know how old I am?” he retorted, that same self-assured glint dancing in his eye. You peered at him in scrutiny, emphasising how hard you were looking at him by squinting intensely.

“I’d put you at around like, early thirties? Maybe mid? Am I hot or cold?” you asked, kinda hoping he was in the same sort of age bracket as you were. Not for any specific reason of course… just for… science.

Yeah. For science.

Though your heart deflated slightly at his bark of a laugh. “Not quite. Try mid to late hundred and thirties. Give or take a few years.” Once again you gaped at him, mouth wide open, jaw completely slack. He could get used to that sight. Dangerously used to it. “Take a picture bubs, it’ll last longer.”

“B-but… how–? Y–? Hundred and– what the fuck?” You couldn’t get over it. Though your mind was still reeling, you managed to recover quickly. “Why you don’t look a day over ninety. You’re in good shape for a fossil, though I was wondering why I was getting a lot of calls from museums recently… probably looking for their exhibit back,” you smirked wildly whilst Logan just stared at you, trying his fucking damnest not to let his disobedient lips quirk anywhere other than down.

“Ya done?”

“I’ll probably think of some more. But, in all seriousness, how?” You asked, and Logan couldn’t detect anything other than genuine curiosity.

“Regenerative. I heal real quick, but that also keeps my body in good condition. Dunno exactly how old I am, but it’s around hundred and thirty,” he shrugged, and you whistled lowly. “So?” he prompted, and you looked up.

“So what?”

“How’dya make the pasta?”

You snorted in amusement, before launching into an explanation about your brother and how he always had an interest in cooking and had taught you to cook simple things, like how to make a béchamel sauce, or how to make pesto from scratch. And if you weren’t so caught up in your storytelling, you would have noticed Logan drinking in every damn word like he was parched for conversation. Listening to you talk, the cadence of your voice, the way you pronounce every letter and the way you occasionally drop a letter, it was hypnotic. You didn’t have an abundance of energy, and whether that was simply because you were exhausted after the day you’d had, or if that was just who you were, he didn’t know. But honestly? He didn’t really care.

As long as you kept talking, that was all that mattered. If he could take your mind off tomorrow, or your situation by letting you ramble about the smallest of things, he would. And he would pretend the whole time like he was doing this for you. And not because, at the end of everything, he liked listening to you.

“Anyway, that’s how you tell the difference between a Thoroughbred and a Quarter Horse. And I will not make that mistake again.” You’d somehow weaved from topic to topic, the conversation ebbing and flowing for hours, you both taking turns in sharing random stories from your pasts, little anecdotes that gave context to who you both were as people now. And it was only thanks to the brief silence and the conveniently timed chime of the clock did you realise how late it was. Or rather, how early.

It was one in the fucking morning. How the hell did that happen? Your eyes slid back to Logan, who at some point had made himself comfortable on the opposite side of the window seat, and you watched as he had the same realisation. Holy shit.

“I should probably–”

“Look, you should–”

You both started to speak at the same time, before pausing to let the other talk first. It was gross and awkward and cringey but, for the life of you, you couldn’t find it in you to care.

You stood, gathering your long abandoned, though now empty plate, and crossed the room to grab his from the bedside table. You heard Logan sigh heavily behind you in what you assumed was exhaustion. You couldn’t blame the man. You’d been talking for hours.

Logan followed you to the door, holding it open for you as you stepped out into the hallway. You placed the crockery onto the floor, freeing your hands to wrap your arms around his neck in a similar embrace to the one before. Only this time, you felt his strong arms return your hug, wrapping you up tightly against his chest.

“Thank you. For letting me talk for hours. You don’t need to pretend you enjoyed it, by the way. But thank you all the same.” You stepped back, and Logan leaned against the door frame, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Yeah well, you brought peace pesto and beer. How could I say no?” He quipped, and you chuckled lightly. He wasn’t about to admit he enjoyed your company far more than he should have done, and he sure as shit wasn’t about to admit he wasn’t pretending to like it. His eyes softened at your laugh in a way he’d stopped them from doing all evening. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

You peered up at him, a knowing spark dancing in your iris. You noticed. Of course, you’d noticed. That was almost exactly what you’d said to him earlier. The same hopeful lilt and all.

“Sure.” Was all you said in return, before picking up the empty plates and bottles off the floor, and turning away to head back down the hallway. You refused to look back, worried that if you did, you’d run straight back to his room and never fucking leave.

But if you had. If you had just turned to look over your shoulder, you would have seen him leaning against the doorway still, eyes following you down the stairs, and lingering still, long after you’d disappeared.

Yeah… he was definitely in trouble.

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i-love-ptv · 5 months ago

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Please Don’t Think I’m Insecure ₊ ⊹.𖥔 ݁ ˖

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader

You navigate your relationship with Rafe, but you can never escape that green-eyed monster.

Wc: 2,100

Angst, bit of comfort at the end?

An: First, sorry to the brunette girls, but im kinda projecting rn. BUT YAYYYY I WROTE ABOUT RAFE FOR THE FIRST TIME! I randomly got a burst of writing energy while listening to ethel cain (this has nothing to do w any of her songs, at least not purposefully if it somehow relates idk)

Feedback ALWAYS appreciated my loves!! xxx

You couldn’t help but feel envious of the brunette girls of the Outer Banks.

You found that they carry a different type of beauty, one that you couldn’t compare to.

Every time you glance and see your darling boyfriend, Rafe, being hounded by these girls, you swear you feel a piece of your soul being ripped from your body.

You and Rafe’s relationship wasn’t always smooth sailing. In fact, the two of you had broken up before, when he chose his drugs over you.

Every party, you’d see him snort lines, roll his blunts, and nearly drown himself in all sorts of liquor.

It killed you to leave him, but you remembered exactly why you decided to put the ultimatum on the table when he called you a “controlling, insecure bitch.”

You had never packed your bags faster.

You would stalk Topper and Kelce on instagram for months, just so you could search every background of every photo for the boy you were in love with.

You occasionally saw Rafe around the island, sometimes you’d stare a second too long, and he’d catch your wandering eyes. You never held eye contact, so you never saw how he’d frown at you. He wished he could read your mind, just to see if you think about him, like how he thinks about you.

You briefly remembered looking at your bedside table clock, after being abruptly awoken by thunks, on your window.

It was 2:33 in the morning.

At first, you ignored it, thinking it was just the rain picking up. But the thunk, thunk, thunk only continued, getting harder each time.

You slowly approached your window, knowing that if needed, you could easily run to your dad, and have him pull out his gun to deal with whatever was plaguing your slumber.

You quickly yanked your curtains open and slid the creaky window open. You really needed to have your parents deal with that.

You immediately looked down and saw none other than Rafe Cameron himself.

He was soaked to the bone, crouching in the grass, you assumed he was looking for more things to throw.

“Rafe..?” You whisper-shouted down at him.

He looked up at you like a deer in headlights, this allowed you to notice his blistering red face, and his semi-glossy eyes.

This was the first time that you saw his freshly buzzed hair in person, rather than from a distance.

You would’ve been lying if you said he didn’t look devilishly handsome.

“Jeez peach….You really are a heavy sleeper.” Rafe said with a watery chuckle, trying to lighten the mood.

He hoped you didn’t notice the sadness in his voice, and if you did he at least hoped you wouldn’t mention it.

“God, Rafe, why didn’t you just come to the front door like a normal person.” You sighed, and with that, you closed the window and curtains.

Rafe’s eyes widened, his breath picked up, and he felt his stomach drop.

He rubbed at his eyes angrily, wiping away his salty tears.

He was too busy in his head, going over how ‘stupid and idiotic’ he felt for thinking you’d even consider taking him back after what he put you through a year prior, to notice you walking up to him.

“Rafe…Hun, please come inside…You’re going to get sick at this rate.” You muttered, rubbing your hand on his shoulder to provide an ounce of comfort.

You heard him gasp softly, but he refused to look into your eyes, that makes you frown.

You were outside in the pouring rain, in a robe and slippers, coaxing him into your house, and he couldn't even look you in the eyes?

You knew it wasn't right to feel this way, you thought it was that grudge that you held for what he did to you deep down.

Your mind was reeling, thoughts flying around like a flock of birds in the wind.

You didn’t know how to feel, seeing your ex-boyfriend, who hurt you so badly, outside of your house with tears in his eyes.

His tears.

His tears make you think of all the times he’d come over to your house, after seeking solace away from his father, who’d decided to pick another argument with the boy.

He would lay his head in your lap as you played with his long, silky brown strands of hair.

You would wipe his tears every single time he needed you.

It was always you who was there for him.

It was always you who’d understood him the most out of anyone on the damn island, hell, out of anyone on the entire planet.

You couldn’t help but think about all the times he’d lash out on you, while you’re going to retrieve a towel for him, and a fresh pair of his old clothes from your drawer. You had never given them back, you wanted a piece of your old, sweet Rafe, since it felt like that part of him had vanished.

You came back and saw him standing idly near the front door, lingering, you could tell he was too nervous to sit without permission, not wanting to overstep.

You hand him the clothes, he immediately recognizes his old ‘Kildare Athletics’ shirt, but of course, he decides not to mention it.

He had begun to strip in front of you, you quickly turned around, muttering a “Jesus Christ…” to yourself.

You heard rustling, then eventually heard a soft, “Done” escape from Rafe’s cracked lips.

You sat him on the couch, while you put his wet clothes in the bathroom; that was a task to deal with another day.

You couldn’t bring yourself to sit next to him, not trusting your sleepy judgment to keep you from babying him like you want to, like you used to.

You broke the silence by whispering, “Why are you here, Rafe? It’s so late…”

“God, it’s so weird to hear you call me by my name, normally it was always “baby,” or “puddin’.”

“Please Rafe, I’m not in the mood.” You exclaimed softly, your resolve slowly breaking down.

Rafe toyed with the gold signet ring on his finger, deciding what to say.

“I miss you peach…nothing’s the same without you. And I know..Before you say anything, I know I fucked up. I think about that everyday. I have since that day…” He paused, trying to find his words.

You looked at him, your eyes beckoning him to continue.

He noticed a glint in your eye, almost looking like hope, and it made him break down.

“I didn’t think I’d get this far..Uhm, give me a second please..” He was embarrassed, you could tell.

“I don’t get it Rafe, I thought you loved me…How could you do that to us..?” You choked on your words, feeling the tears start to build.

Rafe shot up at this, “I do!” He exclaimed, immediately regretting it when he remembered that your parents were just upstairs.

Your cat, Daphne, crawled into his lap, being startled awake by his yell.

He scratched behind her ears and continued, “Of course I do. I always did. I know I didn’t make it obvious, and I barely showed it, but I promise I did. Seeing you walk out that door made me realize just how much I love you.”

“I still don’t understand…” You murmur as you pick at the sleeve of your fluffy, cloud-like robe.

“I….I got scared, baby. Things between us were getting so..Real, I guess. I found myself thinking about you every second of the day, wondering where you were, thinking about who you were with, if that idiot JJ was still flirting with you like he used to..” Rafe gulps.

“I’ve never felt like this about anyone, so when it kept growing, I panicked, and ran. I turned to coke, and booze to try and gather myself. I felt pathetic, knowing that my day revolved on how yours went.”

Rafe’s shoulders shook, and you grabbed his hand, you intertwined your fingers with his, gripping him tightly.

That night, you told Rafe how you felt, then, and when the two of you were together. The conversation was hard on both of you, but by the time the sun was about to rise, you decided to give him another chance. Telling him how you wanted to take it slow at first, to make sure that you wouldn’t get hurt again.

Rafe flinched at this, feeling disgusted, knowing that he had made you build your walls up again.

Which brings you to today, you had gone off to find a water bottle somewhere in the crowded house.

When you finally were able to locate a few, and you walked back outside.

That’s when you saw it.

Rafe was talking to her.

Sofia.

It was no surprise to everyone that the two had dated months prior to you and Rafe getting back together.

They were the talk of the island, of course you had heard.

But they weren’t together anymore, Rafe came back to you.

So why do you still feel those anxious butterflies in your stomach? They feel like moths, flying around recklessly inside you.

You feel like you’re on the brink of vomiting.

A part of you wondered if he still wanted her,

If he got back together with you, then there was a possibility of him wanting to get back together with another one of his exes.

You want to confront the problem head-on, really! But the thought of doing so makes your legs feel like jelly in your flip-flops.

You turn around, quickly walking back inside the crowded house, searching every corner for a place to find a moment of quiet.

After hearing three different couples doing things they probably shouldn’t in a bedroom that wasn’t theirs, you found a small hall closet.

It felt weird, sitting in a somewhat cramped closet, begging for everyone and everything to just go away.

You’re sitting in the dark when you see a flash that lights up the closet: it’s your phone.

You look at it, the blaring sight of a text from ‘My Baby! 💞’.

You ponder for a moment, then decide to ignore it.

You hate feeling like this, feeling like you can be so easily replaced by someone you know is prettier than you.

Sofia was perfect; she was loved by all of the older folk at the country club. She carried herself with nothing but confidence. You wish you could feel the same.

Suddenly, your shorts start to feel like they’re two sizes too small, and your shirt shrinks by the second.

You wanted to be perfect.

Why couldn’t you be perfect?

Did you want it for yourself? Or do you want it for Rafe.

Your thoughts are interrupted when you hear shouts throughout the hallway.

You glance at your phone and notice that over half an hour has gone by.

“Peach?! Peach, baby, where are you?!” You hear, and you feel yourself cower deeper into the closet.

The last thing you want is for Rafe to find you in here, crying like a little girl, wishing to be perfect for just a moment.

You hear the string of curses getting closer and closer to you.

You try to conceal your hiccups, by holding your hand over your mouth.

This makes it worse, you can’t catch your breath, but you don’t remove your hand.

Your head is pounding. Your chest hurts.

You quickly start sobbing, just wanting to disappear.

Without warning, the closet door is yanked open.

There you see your boyfriend Rafe, looking slightly out of breath, almost as if he was urgently trying to find you.

Light fills the room, and his arms quickly wrap around your frame.

You grip onto him harshly, trying to focus on the smell of his rich cologne against his skin.

Rafe pulls away slightly, looking at you with worried eyes that scan your frame.

“I’ve been looking all over for you, peach! Where have you been?! What’s going on?!” Rafe babbled.

You try to answer him, but only a pathetic squeak leaves your throat. You sob harder at this.

Rafe knows that it’ll be impossible to try and get anything out of you while you’re in this state.

So he continues to hold you, rubbing circles up and down your back. Soft hushes leave his lips as he tries to help you regain your breath.

Rafe knows he wasn’t a good boyfriend in the past, and it was always you who’d be there for him.

Now it was his turn to be here, for you.

sorry if the ending is rushed cuties, I couldn’t think of anything else and i wanted to get smth out for y’all😭

#lee’s writing! ₍ᐢ. ̫.ᐢ₎#rafe cameron x reader #obx x reader #obx x you #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron imagine #rafe x you #rafe cameron #outer banks imagine #rafe obx #obx fic #obx #Spotify

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heartzfromel · 29 days ago

Note

Anges is a detective and must work with his ex?Reader must make a suspect speak and play a little of his charm Agatha sees red (happy ending)

i love you, i’m sorry

detective!agnes x fem!ex wife!reader

tags; agnes and reader kinda hate each other, touchy agnes, possessive agnes, arguing, rio being nosy, making out, drinking, jealous agnes, idiots in love, happy ending, reader teasing agnes, detective reader

“oh, and agnes?” the chief of westview’s police department spoke, propped up against the detective’s office doorframe.

“uh-huh?” she replied, not fully paying attention as she flicked through her case file for what seemed to be the eight hundredth time today.

“since the murders have been happening in both westview and eastview they wanted to bring someone from eastview over to assist with your investigation.” he explained, almost carefully.

“yeah, fine, whatever.” agnes answered, expecting him to leave, but the chief made no effort to move.

“something wrong, chief?” she asked, confusion and irritation lacing her tone, she really wanted to get back to her work.

“not exactly, i’m just not too sure you’re going to be too happy with who’s been sent over.”

“and why would that be?” anges pressed, shifting in her seat.

“well, it’s just, she’s-“ the chief began, struggling to find the words.

“right here.” you smirked, clicking your tongue as you finished his sentence for him.

the chief left the room instantly, and you kicked the door closed behind you, making your way over to the woman in front of you.

the look on agnes’ face was priceless. her jaw seemed to drop just about as much as her stomach did as she stared at her ex wife for the first time in a year, and she fought with herself to show some form of composure. you wouldn’t be surprised if she got up and started looking for cameras, wondering if vidal was up to her antics again, trying to play some sick joke on her.

“agnes, been a while.” you spoke, maintaining eye contact as you sat yourself onto her desk. as you got comfortable it became painfully obvious that the skirt you had chosen was absolutely the wrong one to wear today. you could’ve sworn it was longer when it was in the wardrobe this morning. agnes’ breath hitched, as she shifted in her seat, leaning back slightly. you bit your lip as you watched her eyes trail down you, and then all of a sudden she seemed to realise what she was doing, and her eyes were on yours once again.

“y/l/n” she answered, dropping eye contact as she attempted pick up her file again, freezing as she accidentally grazed your thigh when she picked it up.

“what has gotten you all worked up, detective?” you teased, smirking as you took the file from her hands, before giving it a read yourself.

“all the fresh blood,” she started, looking back up at you once again, “all the pretty young things like you who think they can control the whole investigation because they did good on one case that, as it just so happens, was a fluke. that’s what’s got me all worked up, detective.” she spoke, as she leaned in closer to you.

“mm, agnes, don’t you worry about me trying to control anything, we both know that’s your area of expertise.” you answered, your noses almost touching.

agnes took a deep breath as she pulled away from you, taking the file into her hands once again. “we’re going out.” she exclaimed abruptly, grabbing her coat and waiting expectantly at the door for you as you hurried to keep up with her. you couldn’t help but smile, as it reminded you of this time last year, where “we’re going out” meant that the two of you would sneak out of work for food or just an hour of time together. you missed that. you missed her.

working with agnes so far had been hell, and you weren’t shy about letting her know. it was either constant bickering or total silence at all times, and she always had to know more than you, because obviously you were stupid and she wasn’t.

you had been working together for a week now. “agnes, can we stop at the gas station on the way back?” you asked, trying to be as civil as possible with her.

“and why would we be doing that?” she replied, fingers tapping on the wheel. you couldn’t help but admire them as she glared at you, expecting an answer. it took you a total of eight seconds to realise you were staring.

“i gotta get my dinner,” you began, “the motel has terrible cooking appliances so i just get what i can from the gas station instead.”

agnes suddenly felt a pang of sympathy go through her. “you’ve been eating gas station food all week in that dusty motel?”

“i mean yeah, its the police department, not the fbi, we don’t have the funds for luxury.” you giggled.

“come over tonight.” agnes blurted out, eyes never leaving you.

“i- what?” you stuttered, her words shocking you.

“i’ll make dinner, i mean.” she rambled, realising the implications of her words, “no one should be eating anything out of that gas station, its disgusting.” she joked.

“okay then.” you answered, smiling a real smile for the first time since you left eastview.

if there was one thing you never forgot about agnes, it was how rancid her cooking tasted when you first started coming over. but that was over five years ago, and you had helped her improve over time. now whatever she made was cooked to perfection and tasted incredible. you couldn’t help but smile as she unlocked her door, urging you inside. it reminded you of when you were hers, you missed it. if only she knew how you still longed for her, how she was the only thing you ever thought about, how whenever you were with other partners you’d imagine it was her, because no one ever made you feel the way she did.

“make yourself at home.” she spoke, you could tell she was nervous. you smiled sadly at her words, sitting on the couch you used to sit on every night, whilst she pattered about the kitchen organising ingredients and acting like you’d never lived there. like she hadn’t had you on the kitchen counter every night, like she didn’t kiss you for the first time at her front door, like you hadn’t slept in that bed with her every night and woke up with her every morning, like she hadn’t proposed to you on the very sofa you were sat on right now.

all the reminiscing seemed to have taken more time than you thought it would, because agnes was now putting two plates on the table, along with a case of beer. “dinner’s up.” she smiled as you sat down.

you watched her eyes widen as you popped open one of the beers and began to drink it. she knew you hated the stuff, but you knew damn well you were going to need it tonight. “thirsty?” she smirked as you practically guzzled the stuff. “mm” was all you could reply with.

you slowly brought the spaghetti that she had made up to your mouth before tasting it. you made a sound of pleasure as you had been hungry for the last two hours, and that did not go unnoticed by agnes, her eyes widened and she shifted around in her seat, before taking a swig of her own beer.

“good?” she asked you, fidgeting with her hands.

“incredible.” you answered, smiling at her.

“learned from the best.” she grinned.

after you had finished up, you both sat on the couch, the tv on for background noise, the pair of you swigging beers. there was now only one left in the case, and both of you were getting tipsy. you don’t remember when it happened, but you were both incredibly close to each other. deciding to test the waters, you rested your head on her shoulder. you felt agnes let out a sigh as she draped her arm around you. you leaned into her, looking up at her face as she looked down at yours. there was a long pause as you both began to realise what was happening.

“agnes.” you whispered.

“yeah?” she answered softly.

“what happened to us?” you asked, the tone of your voice clearly doing something for agnes, whose pupils were now fully dilated.

“i don’t know, honey, i don’t know.” she answered, stroking your hair.

you don’t know how it started happening, but the two of you both began to lean in. your lips brushed together slightly before you hesitated, but agnes didn’t have the ssme self control as you, as she grabbed your face with her hands and pressed her lips against yours, sighing in what seemed to be relief. she started out soft with you, but soon enough she was kissing you hard and rough. her hands slid down to your waist amd before you knew what was happening she had pulled you into her lap. she gripped your waist hard with one hand and dragged the other up your body soft and slow.

she bit your bottom lip harshly, and your mouth opened slightly, her tongue slipping in as she swallowed the moan that left yours. her lips began to trail sown your neck as she bit under your ear, causing a shiver to run up your spine. needing more, you rolled your hips against her.

“agnes, please.” you mumbled against her lips, causing her to let out a loud groan.

“baby, we can’t, you know we can’t.” she whispered, her hands now on your face.

“why not?” you whined.

“because, look at the state of us.” she pressed. she was right, neither of you were in your right minds right now.

“let’s go to bed, hm baby?” she suggested, hands steady on your waist.

“okay, lets go.” you mumbled, as she lifted you from her lap.

not sharing the bed wasn’t even a question, and you were glad. you were glad that she still felt comfortable around you.

“goodnight, y/n.” agnes whispered softly.

“goodnight, agnes.” you replied.

the next morning, you woke up with possibly the worst headache you’d ever had, made worse by your phone alarm blaring in your ear. much to your disappointment, the bed was empty. on the nightstand was a glass of water aspirin, which you took gratefully and got dressed for work. you were glad you always brought extra clothes with you everywhere, or some questions would definitely be raised at work. as you went to get a look at your hair in the mirror, you gasped at the sight of yourself, hurrying to grab your makeup bag in order to cover up the mess agnes had made of your neck. thankfully, you were particularly skilled at that sort of thing, and now no one would be any of the wiser.

when you got downstairs, agnes sat waiting at the kitchen counter.

“took you long enough. we’re gonna be late.” she spoke. you would’ve teased her or made a joke but her tone was telling you she was not happy today, so you just apologised and made your way to the car. she didn’t talk to you for the whole car journey, and didnt even acknowledge you when you got to work.

you were supposed to be interviewing a suspect today, some creep who was particularly into lady cops who fit ypur description, so you weren’t exactly jumping for joy at the thought, but whatever got the job done. you fixed your lipstick and undid a few buttons on your shirt before throwing your hair around, shooting one last glance at agatha, and her colleague, rio vidal, who gave you a reassuring smile, before walking in.

the whole interview, you got to the point with your questions, whilst also acting like a total klutz.

it was going fine, you were flirting with the suspect, landing little touches on his arm and giving him the eyes the whole time. vidal had to hand it to you, you were quite the actress. she smirked to herself as her eyes found agnes, who seemed to be seconds away from running in there and hitting the guy. you had decided to make the mistake on glancing at the glass, your eyes meeting agnes even though you couldn’t see her, and then leaning over the suspect, subtly showing a little chest to get him to talk. that was it, apparently. you heard a loud bang outside, which just so happened you be agnes slamming her hand on the table, before the door jolted open.

“that’s it!” she spat, grabbing onto the collar of your shirt and dragging you out. vidal smirked, raising her eyebrows as you yelled at your ex wife and she just grunted in protest, dragging you into her office, slamming the door behind you.

“agnes, what are you-“ you began, but were quickly interrupted.

“what the hell was that?” she spat, seething as her grip tightened.

“what was what, agnes?” you yelled back at her, confusion painting your features.

“that little stunt you pulled with the suspect.” she replied, looking at you as if you were stupid.

“i’m doing my job agnes.” you answered in shock.

“oh and showing yourself off like some prize is your job now, is it? i’ll tell you, if i checked the protocall for interrogations i doubt i’d find that in there, y/n.” she began, yelling at you by the end of the sentence.

“why do you care so much, agnes?” you yelled back.

“because you’re mine.” she answered, teeth gritted together as she walked you into the door, leaving no space between you as she leaned into you.

“agnes, stop.”

“why? you were begging for it last night.” she mumbled. you knew she was too far gone already, and you had to snap her out of it, but you couldn’t help the noise that escaped your throat at her words.

“agnes.” you spoke, timidly as if not to upset her.

“hm?” she answered, eyes meeting yours as she removed her head from resting on your shoulder.

“stop,” you spoke, voice firm, as you pulled her face into your hands, “we can’t keep doing this.” you whispered, as much as it pained you to do so.

“yes we can.” she answered, leaning into your touch as if she hadn’t had any for years.

“no we can’t.” you told her, as one hand went to her hair, in muscle memory. she put her hands on your waist as she slowly guided you over so she could sit down. you were now standing in between her legs as her hands ran up and down her sides.

“why are you just throwing this away, y/n?” she whined, pulling you onto her lap once again. you couldn’t find it in yourself to protest, she knew you wanted her just as much as she wanted you, she could see right through you.

“i didn’t throw anything away, agnes. you threw everything away when you left me.” you mumbled, shying away from her tough as her hands reached your neck and face. this had seemed to calm her down.

“and it was the worst thing i’ve ever done.” she confessed, avoiding eye contact.

“what?” you whispered, pulling her face so she’d look at you.

“i mean it, y/n. leaving you is my biggest regret. i hate myself for it, and i’m so, so sorry.” she rambled.

“agnes, don’t apologise, work was stressing you out, and we wanted different things, it happens.”

“it shouldn’t have happened to us. i’m so sorry i ignored you, and i’m sorry that the only thing we seemed to do together was fight, and i’m sorry-“

“agnes, stop. it’s in the past now.”

“what i’m trying to say is that i don’t want us to be in the past. i miss you, y/n, every day.” she was looking at you like you were everything she had ever wanted, and you believed her.

“agnes, i-“ you began, but you were quickly cut off.

“last night was the first time i felt truly happy since i left. you know that, right?” she whispered, both hands rubbing your neck.

“agnes…” her name came out strained, as she pressed down slightly.

“please, y/n. one chance.” she begged.

“i promise, baby, i’ll never leave you again, i p-“

you melted at the nickname, and your lips were on hers before she could finish her sentence, leaning back as she repositioned you on her lap, her hands gripping your waist, hard. the kiss was different from the ome from last night, fuelled with more passion and emotion.

“mm, agnes.” you gasped, her swallowing your moan, “i missed you.”

she laughed lightly into the kiss as one hand travelled further down, “i missed you too, baby.”

she was about to get you up onto the table when the door burst open, vidal storming in.

“you happy now, o’connor?” she yelled, not paying attention to anything that was happening.

“you have really got to get your priorities straight, she was doing her job for god’s sake, and- oh my god.” she whispered that last part as she suddenly took in her surroundings, “i am so sorry.” she giggled, leaving the room as quickly as possible. agnes let out a sigh as you giggled into her, arms wrapped around her neck as you placed a peck to her lips.

“lets finish this at home, shall we?” you smiled, as she shook her head, finally letting out a laugh.

#agatha all along #agatha coven of chaos #agatha harkness #agatha harkness x reader #agatha x reader #fem reader #agatha harkness x you #rio vidal x reader #agnes of westview #agnes o'connor #detective o’connor #detective agatha #wlw fic #lesbian #el’s inbox 💌#request

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sinstear · 6 months ago

Text

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ— IN YOUR ARMS, WHERE IT’S SAFE.

been thinking a little too much about abby after santa barbara. a once confident, brutal yet adventurous and tactical woman who didn’t let anyone get in her way, to a reserved shell that flinched or panicked whenever something bad happened around her. how her only thought is to make sure lev is safe and protected from the world they’re running from. every night that she goes out to look for extra supplies has her paranoia heightened, making sure to look over her shoulder every step she takes, not wanting to take any chances.

those late nights that she goes without lev to find more food, extra supplies, leaving them back at the small shack they called home, alone, plays on her mind the entire time. worried and anxious if she made the best decision to go by herself, but the other part of her brain didn’t want her to stress so much, she had food and drink to find, to make sure neither of them got sick, to never have that fear or feeling of dying again.

the place is empty. quite. once, that much quietness had abby on high alert, looking around for any sign of danger, but now? now she was rushing, pushing herself to just find what she came here for. she tries to ignore the way her brain already wants to leave, and keeps pushing herself forward. she promised lev she would be back with food, or at least something for them to eat, and she wasn’t about to break that promise because of her high paranoia. she’s not by herself anymore.

the store clearly had been ransacked hours before, but abby was used to doing patrols and going out for extra supplies, so she knows there is always something left on the shelves, in the drawers, or even tucked away hidden. wiping her forehead with her arm, abby slowly makes her way around the isles while trying to make as quiet of sounds as she possibly could. she didn’t really prepare herself like she would have done years ago, maybe that’s her own fault, but right now getting back to lev alive and well was the second thing on her mind. finding something to eat was the first.

her stomach grumbled at the singular thought of eating something that wasn’t bread she found a few days ago and sighed softly at the sight of a couple tinned food cans on the shelf near one of the back exit doors. thankful that whoever was here, was in a rush to get what they could to not realize they had practically saved her night by leaving behind a little something that is good enough for lev to eat.

her feet carry her slowly, she’s tired, she’s been walking around for a good few hours to find a place, and now that she’s found one, she can feel the exhaustion in her body. the ache in her bones and muscles that haven’t gone away in months. one good nights rest is all she asks for, but will she ever get that? will there be a day where she doesn’t have to look over her shoulder, and relax? even she doesn’t know.

by the time she gets to where she wants, abby doesn’t have enough time to react, she just cowers away into herself when another hand touches hers abruptly, which were reaching for the same canned food she spotted. those eyes go wide when she notices a woman looking at her, then the food and then back at abby with a small curve in her lips. “sorry, was in my own world then, did you want it?”

nothing seems to come out her mouth as she just stares. slightly scared, and the rest of her somewhat calm. she doesn’t know why, but she was.

“didn’t mean to scare you,” they whispered, offering their name which causes abby to relax enough that she can put her arms back down, stop protecting herself to respond with her name.

“abby.”

“s’pretty name. abby” you test out her name, another smile appearing on your face as you do. “nice to meet you,” you lift your hand out towards her and you feel your heart break when she flinches back away from you. “oh, no, i won’t hurt you,” you frowned, shaking your head sadly.

abby’s at a loss for words, really, she doesn’t know what to say or do while you look at her with such a soft look that makes her feel like she is going to explode from how gentle you were, and how slow you approached her. “i promise, if you need the food, it’s yours” you offered again, holding the canned food out for her.

“you got it first,” was the second thing that came out her mouth. looking at you, analyzing you silently.

“are you here alone?”

“i have lev at,” she paused, eyebrows furrowed in a tight frown. “at home. so i’m just trying to find something for them to eat”

“would you,” it was your turn to stumble over your words as she wiped her face again, huffing at herself softly. “want to stay with me? i have warm water, you could have a shower, it’s hard to find that lately, i can make you something to eat. i have a room you can sleep in, if you want. you don’t have to, i would just feel safer knowing you are safe” you rambled, waving your hands around.

the blonde is at a loss for words again, she’s met a few groups of people since that night, but none of them had ever offered to help her and lev. let alone offer to let them both stay in their house, and you could tell she was fighting with herself at the sudden stare she was giving you. more confused and terrified this time. “i can’t ask you to do that. we will be okay”

“you’re not asking me, m’offering you to stay with me. for however long you want. there’s no pressure, but company is always nice. i would really like company, especially when finding that company is really hard now”

“i- we would have to go back home, and get lev first, and make sure they are comfortable staying with you. i’m fine with it, but i’m all they have left. we are all each other have now”

abby’s heart thumps in her chest at your sudden bright smile, and nodded up at her. “s’okay, there’s no rush. as long as you are both comfortable with it. oh, your food!” you laughed, looking away as your face heated up. “please take it, you had it first”

“you had it first, actually.” abby laughed softly.

the sound had your heart thumping loudly in your chest this time.

taking the tins from your hands carefully, abby finds herself blushing as your fingers graze hers before pulling away just as quickly with a clear of her throat. “shall, shall we go?”

“lead the way, abby”

your house wasn’t one that she assumed you would live in. she expected something small, or tiny, not a complete farmhouse. and you offered to let her and lev stay here? after quickly agreeing, saying where they lived was too small for the pair of them, and multiple panics about abby taking a little longer than usual, the blonde reassured she would always come back and this was a chance to change their life. have something they haven’t had in a while. comfort and safety.

abby’s cautious of when she steps foot in the small home that you’ve made for yourself. her once bright eyes, now almost lifeless, bore into everything. silently making sure nothing is going to pop out and hurt lev here. when you notice the worried look on her face, you take a small step towards her, a soft smile on your lips and you simply hold your hand out for her. “i won’t hurt you, i promise” you assure her, even though you don’t have to. you’ve already been good enough to let her and lev stay here, so she just nodded at you, looking at your hand before holding hers out for you. slightly flinching when you hold onto hers softly. “it’s okay,” you smiled again. your smile suddenly becomes her favorite sight.

even after you’ve made something for them to eat, she watches you closely, especially with the way you rub lev’s shoulder when you place both bowls of stew on the table and that if there is anything else they want to eat or need, just tell you and you will gladly make it or get it for them. she still watches you when you make your way into the kitchen. and there’s a sudden drop in her stomach upon hearing the latch of the back door opening that has her bolting off her chair, looking for you with wide eyes.

“hey, i was just going to— abby? what’s wrong?” you frowned in your spot, noticing her now sweating and crimson face looking down at you. “hey,”

“where are you going?” she found herself asking, a little too rushed for her liking.

“i’m just going out to hang the laundry,” you smiled tiredly, chewing your bottom lip gently. “m’not going anywhere. do you want to come with me? lev is happily eating in the living room, so you’re more than welcome to join me. you are a little taller than me so, you can hang up some stuff for me”

abby doesn’t hesitate to agree. her sudden urge to be around you constantly peaks through as she turns around a final time to just check on lev, who was reading one of the books you left out and eating away at their food. with a final nod to herself, abby rushes herself through the small kitchen and through the back door, where she finds you already hanging up some of the cleaned clothes with that soft smile still on your face.

“need help?” abby finds herself smiling this time. a real one.

“always. get over here”

the blonde already knew she could trust you. just by how gentle you were with her. not pushing her to talk about something you knew was making her uncomfortable. you didn’t ask about the scars on her arms when you saw them, you just simply pressed a soft kiss to the ones on her hands and continued your task. she asked you about your life, and how you got here, which you gladly shared. with each word you gave, it drove her closer to you. she continuously found herself not even doing what you asked her and simply watched the way you spoke, the way your eyes lit up at the mention of something you loved doing, or how you spoke with your hands at times.

you still noticed the way she would cower away or flinch you when touched her as the night came and the stars shone in the sky, or a loud noise rang out but for the most part, abby apologized and said it wasn’t you, it was trauma that she’s been dealing with, still dealing with and you constantly reassured her that it was okay. she doesn’t need to apologies for being jumpy with certain things. the one time she let you touch her without flinching, was when she dropped the laundry basket because you had slammed one of the chicken cages shut, and rushed towards her and held her hand tightly, without another thought you rubbed the back of her neck comfortingly and and smiled against her temple. assuring her that everything was okay.

that same night, when lev is finally at peace and can get a good rest, she is the one who can’t fall asleep, like usual, she finds herself knocking on your bedroom door, thanks to the soft bed lamp shining under it. stumbling and blushing once you yell a soft ‘come in’ and she finds you curled up on your bed, reading a book. “you okay?” you ask, closing the book, leaning over to your side table and placing it down carefully before looking over at her again. “can’t sleep?”

“no,” abby pauses, chewing on her bottom lip harshly. “can i stay in here with you?”

“of course, come here”

and she could cry at how you open your arms for her.

the second she practically slumps her body on yours, and you rest one of your hands on her back, and the other instantly goes to her hair, she breaks. quiet and reserved abby cries in your arms when you, the first person to see her like this, thread your fingers through her hair, whispering against her forehead how she’s still so effortlessly beautiful. she doesn’t say anything though, she doesn’t have to, she just lets you comfortingly scratch her scalp at crazy hours of the night because you know she’s struggling to fall asleep peacefully.

“m’not gonna let anything or anyone hurt you ever again, okay?” you promised. hand slowly rubbing comforting circles on her back under her bed shirt. “you’re both safe here. i promise to protect you both with my life. you are safe, everything is okay”

for the first time in years, abby could finally close her eyes that night. both her and lev were safe. the safest she’s felt in a long time. because with your arms around her, and lips against her forehead in a hushed promise that you were here for her, she felt better. she felt content. she felt at home.

your promise of protection meant more to her than she could ever tell or show you.

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson angst #abby anderson fluff #abby anderson #abby the last of us #abby anderson fic #abby anderson fanfic

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wegc · 1 year ago

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heheh back to bother you with more spicy thoughts :3

Thoughts on biting kink?? i just keep thinking about what ot8 reaction would be after seeing the damage that y/n would do hehe purple hickeys littering their bodies not a spot untouched, bite marks still slightly visible, having to wear long sleeves and turtle necks to cover the evidence which makes y/n that all her hard work is being covered 😵‍💫 definitely feel like most of them would relish in the fact that y/n wants people to know that their man is taken already ,, sorry but I’m a sucker for possessive kink :3

anywhooo hope your doing well and that your day went as amazing as you !!

-🧸

saw biting kink and IMMEDIATELY thought of lee minho!!!

ot8 reaction to you leaving hickeys on them!!!

chan would be so giggly and flustered when he caught sight of the hickeys scattered across his body and would take a couple of pictures so he could look back on them. since he is an idol, he does have to conceal them, plus, he’s so shy!!! when you get pouty about it, he finds you so cute and feels so giddy inside because he adores it when you’re possessive. he wants you to tell him that he’s yours, that he belongs to no one else but you—if you ever tell him any of those things while you guys are fucking, he’s creaming FOR SURE.

minho would smirk and tease you about it, playfully grumbling about the marks while secretly attempting to hide his red ears because he feels butterflies in his stomach every time he catches a glimpse of them. though he does have to conceal them while he’s working, he makes no effort to hide them while he’s at home or with friends because he gets a kick out of people knowing that he’s yours and that yes!!! lee minho got some!!! he’s also the type to litter hickeys on you and would further use a makeup wipe to clean away the concealer you’re using to hide them.

changbin would be so ANNOYING omfg—he’s giggling in your face, facetiming his friends or the members to boast about the purple bruises because he’s so proud that he’s yours!!! changbin adores the idea of someone being obsessed with him so the thought that you, the love of his life, his number one—the person that drives him crazy is just as insane about him makes him so delighted. he gets pouty and whiney when they wear off and demands that you give him more once they’ve completely faded off because “they’re apart of him.”

hyunjin would feign playful annoyance and would whine about how much of a nuisance it is to cover them, but really, he’s endeared and finds them almost artistic, in a way. the underlying intention of hickeys—to claim someone, its inherent territoriality, their origin in the act of lovemaking as a symbol of adoration—how can hyunjin not romanticize them? he smiles softly every time he sees them and brushes the tips of his fingers against the bruised skin. one day, when they fade away, he’ll lay his head on your lap, straining his neck as an offering, silently asking for more. take me, he’d whisper.

jisung would treasure them because number 1: it feels so good receiving them (han jisung moaning like a girl agenda will always prevail) and number 2: he feels so cherished. jisung can’t help but feel small when you tell him you want others to understand he’s yours and that you’ve claimed him. he’d nod, a lazy grin on his face, eyes glossing over and looking at you cheerily, completely and utterly love-sick. “yeah,” he mumbles. “i suppose the marks are useful… can i give them to you?” cue him begging to let him give you hickeys, loudly whining and rolling his eyes when you reject him.

felix would mention the hickeys now and then to fluster you but abruptly shrinks when you stare at him intensely and tell him that you want others to know that he’s taken. “oh,” he’d whisper, feeling his cheeks blush and his heart race. he still feels flustered when you laugh and tell him that you’re joking because he never knew he could like something so much. he feels his heart drop when you continue, absentmindedly suggesting that you’d stop if he wanted, to which he quickly shakes his head to. “i don’t want you to stop,” he’d breathe out. “give me as many as you’d like.”

seungmin is someone that i don’t particularly see going so crazy over them. while covering them up is a hassle, he walks around with them freely at home and in the dorms, clapping back whenever a member teases him about it. instead of focusing on the marks, he rather relishes the sentiment behind them and revels in the way you show your passion and possessiveness over him. i can see him staring at the bruises when he misses you exceptionally, or maybe when he’s extra pent up, he strokes himself in front of the mirror, eyes narrowed at the purple marks you’ve littered on his body. not like he’d tell you that though!!!

jeongin laughs at you about it but also loves them so much, and repeatedly asks you why you leave them on his body even though he knows why. he’s attentively listened to your reasoning behind it at least 50 times; but how can you stop telling him when he gets so giddy and smiley every time you remind him that he’s yours and that no one else can have him? he’d nod, eyes crinkling in delight and would sigh happily, unable to make eye contact with you. he takes photos of his marked body and begs to leave some on you so you guys can have matching wallpapers. he’ll have your marked body as his, and you’ll have his as yours!

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leth-writes · 6 months ago

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Yandere batfam x reader part 4!

The cafe, Little Spoon, was extraordinarily quiet for this time of day; last time you had been the line had been out the door to get a drink, let alone sit at the tables and enjoy a meal. Yet, you supposed the complete lack of jobs and the constant villain attacks had created the perfect storm to kill most small businesses. In that light, you were happy such a small cafe was able to stay open, especially with the encroaching giants in the area. Sitting at the table, picking at your bagel with your head down, you felt shame. Having dumped your entire life story out for TIm and Jason to pick at, you felt weirdly hollow.

It felt like someone had scooped out your insides with a dull spoon, and you stared despondent down at your mangled bagel. Jason was texting again, and Tim was staring into the distance, lost in thought. You got the feeling you were the subject of his reverie. It felt weird, seeing them both so lost in their own worlds, especially after the intense way they had stared as you explained your reasoning behind choosing their family.

You didn’t know what to do now, and shame radiated through your core at facing the victims of your crime face to face. No matter how much you had apologized, and how much they had promised they didn’t mind, it still felt hollow, like you wouldn’t ever be able to make up for what you’d done.

“Well, I sicked Barbara on your landlord; if he’s got any dirt, she’ll dig it up.” Jason sighed as he plopped his phone down on the table, leaning back in his chair. “It’s probably a mafia connection. We’ll have to alert the … authorities.” Tim pondered, still half lost in thought and staring out the window. The idea of your landlord, the very one who had indirectly put you in this situation, and who you still hadn’t seen, having some sort of criminal connection had never crossed your mind; you couldn’t believe it was even possible. Hell, it was the type of thing to happen in film, not in real life! Yet, the more you thought about it, the more it made sense; it would explain the constant patrolling from the bats the last little while, you supposed. You stared at Tim’s face in profile, noticing the sharp turn of his thin, high nose and his full, pink lips. You couldn’t believe you were soulbound, destined to have some sort of relationship that only time would reveal. You weren’t sure what your next steps were, but you felt guilty enough to do whatever Tim and Jason would suggest.

Jason abruptly stood up, making meaningful eye contact with Tim. “Hey, I’ll get you a coffee. Want anything else to eat besides that poor bagel?” He questioned you, a half-smile gracing his chiseled face. You shook your head mutely, unwilling to ask for even more. Besides, you weren’t feeling hungry, the anxiety killing any appetite you may have. Tim had turned to look back out the window, so you occupied yourself with glancing around the small room. The only other customer was a young Asian woman, maybe mid-twenties, with choppy black hair ending at the nape of her neck and flaming her face in floaty whisps. She was looking down at her phone, small mouth upturned into a smile, with her chocolatey dark eyes locked onto her screen. She was giggling slightly, evidently at the response from whoever she was texting.

As you attempted to get a closer look at her screen, both out of boredom and curiosity, Jason crossed your line of sight and sat a large porcelain cup and saucer in front of you. “Here,” he started, “It’s hazelnut. Drink up, then we can leave for the manor so you can meet the others”. You took a small sip as he sat down, looking behind you toward the door.

“I’m sorry, I don’t really feel comfortable going to the manor. I can’t impose on your family, not after everything I did…” You responded, taking another sip of the rich, thick drink. Jason huffed playfully, rolling his eyes and smiling. “I told you it’s fine. You aren’t the first and you won’t be the last, but you’re definitely the cutest,” He smirked as you hiked your shoulders toward your ears in embarrassment. “Listen, the least you can do is meet the others. I’m sure they’d love to get to know you for who you really are, they’ve been curious for ages,” Tim turned toward you, staring earnestly into your eyes and gently gripping your free hand.

“I… I don’t know…” You said hesitantly, pausing to take a large sip of the drink and glance out the window. What did you have waiting for you? Your apartment was empty and the neighbors weren’t exactly great company as of late, and the constant rejection while looking for work was definitely taking its toll. You yawned, overcome with a wave of sudden exhaustion. Your adrenaline must have crashed after it spiked earlier, you supposed. Through the fog of the exhaustion, you found yourself nodding along to their gentle affirmations as they led you out to the car that was now parked in front of the cafe. If you were more conscious, you would’ve questioned it, but the exhaustion wiped you out and you ended up passed out, laid over Tim’s lap as he ran his hand down your back and whispered reassurances.

Getting in the car was the final mistake that sealed your fate.

#yandere batfamily #yandere batfamily x reader #yandere batfam x reader #yandere batfam #lethwrites

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hgfictionwriter · 6 months ago

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Self Control: Part Four - Changes

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Changes start to occur, some small, some bigger. Jessie and you navigate the first few weeks of your pregnancy.

Warnings: Vomiting. Some suggestive language.

A/N: Just fluff this time around, folks. Doting Jessie makes her first appearance lol.

Jessie and you were seated at the table eating breakfast together. With a baby on the way and your health more important than ever, Jessie took it upon herself to take over meal planning and prep. With her exposure to nutritionists over the years, her knowledge along with her now extensive research into prenatal diets, she figured this was a role suited to her.

The food you two ate was already pretty healthy - it had to be. But now, she made sure you got extra iron, protein, calcium, etc., along with your prenatal vitamins which she arranged every morning at the edge of your plate. She felt great about it all.

Minus the coffee situation. She had dutifully removed all remnants of coffee from your apartment given even the beans in the pantry made your stomach turn. She nearly gave the bag away to Janine, but quickly thought better of it when she realized the questions it may spur.

The best you and Jessie could figure, you were about six weeks pregnant. You took the test a couple of weeks ago and though small changes had occurred, for the most part things had been smooth.

Until now.

Jessie stopped mid-bite when you lifted your fork halfway, paused, staring vacantly for a few moments before setting it down rather abruptly and placing your hands at the edge of the table.

"Um." Was all you managed to say before you bolted up out of your chair and rushed to the bathroom. Jessie's fork clattered to the table as she shot up out of her seat and followed you.

She was coming around the corner when she heard you retching.

"Oh, baby," she said gently as she came up behind you and pulled your hair back as you coughed out what little you'd eaten. Your shoulders heaved and she knelt down and rubbed your back.

When you finally sat back, you skin was clammy and pale and you were short of breath. Jessie kissed your temple before rising and grabbing you a damp face cloth.

"I knew it was too good to be true," you mumbled as you patted your face. You finally opened your eyes and gave Jessie a weary look.

"Guess it's started, huh?" Jessie asked with a sympathetic expression.

"I'm going to die if I'm one of those girls that has morning sickness all the way through their pregnancy," you lamented, a sad frown forming on your face.

"Well," Jessie started, looking for the right words to say, "let's hope that isn't the case. And worst case scenario, if it is, I promise I'll take care of you all the way through."

"You better. This is your fault after all," you commented with a smirk. "You're going to hear that from here on out."

Jessie might've felt affronted, but instead she mirrored your smirk and felt a blush started to spread across her cheeks. She knew you didn't mean it negatively. It was her baby that was growing inside of you, creating all of these changes. And that concept pleased Jessie in more ways than she cared to admit.

Before her mind could derail and turn to inappropriate things, the sudden shift in your expression caught her attention, refocusing her immediately as you lurched forward and began vomiting into the toilet once more. This time dry heaving and struggling even more.

"Baby, I'm so sorry," Jessie said as she rubbed your back again. When you eventually pulled back, your eyes were watery with tears.

"You better be staying home," Jessie urged. "And I'll skip practice, too."

You groaned as you leaned back against the wall. You gave a feeble shake of your head. "No. I have a stakeholders meeting this afternoon."

"Babe," Jessie scolded. You waved her off.

"I'll take the morning off," you compromised. "It's morning sickness, right?" You laughed emptily, you and Jessie both reading that it could occur any time of day.

"I'll stay home with you," Jessie repeated. You groaned again. She knew you didn't want her to miss practice, but from the expression on your face you were clearly torn. "No room for discussion. I'm staying home with you."

You whined a bit further, but relented. "Fine. But just today. We both have to just cope with this. I can't miss work all the time and neither can you."

"Let's play it by ear," she compromised. You rolled your eyes, but you leaned into her, Jessie wrapping her arms around you right away. You lay heavy against her, still breathing deeply and struggling to remain composed.

It was sometime later before you were finally confident enough to leave the bathroom. Jessie helped you up and walked you towards the bed.

"No, I want to go to the couch," you nearly whined. Jessie swallowed a laugh.

"Okay. Couch it is," she accepted.

She built you a nest of blankets and pillows, carefully arranging you into it and placing a garbage can within your reach. "What do you want to watch?" She asked as she stood poised with the remote. You heaved a sigh.

"I don't know. Anything," you said tiredly.

She put on one of your favourite movies. You'd watched it dozens of times before, but you never seemed to get bored of it. When you looked content and cozy, Jessie gave you a kiss before stepping away.

"You're coming back, right?" You asked. While your tone had been stubborn and defiant a short while ago, now it was sad and almost meek.

"Of course, babe," Jessie replied, not being able to fully hinder her laugh. She turned to you, a wave of affection and love going through her upon seeing your sad eyes peering over at her through the blankets. She spoke patiently. "I'm making you some tea. Then I'll stay with you." She gave you a sad smile when you gave a morose hum and turned your attention back to the TV.

When Jessie returned to the couch, she set down the steaming mug of tea on the table in front you.

"It's really hot. Give it a few minutes. This is peppermint, but I'm going to go out to the store later and get you some ginger tea and crackers. We'll find stuff that settles your stomach."

"Thank you," you said quietly, exhausted and almost half asleep.

Jessie studied you for a few moments, readjusting your blanket a bit before sitting down at the far end right next to your feet. She pulled out the notebook and pen she'd had tucked under her arm.

Since finding out you were expecting, Jessie started tracking all of your symptoms, their timing, severity, frequency, and had a section dedicated to questions to she wanted to ask the obstetrician at appointment in a couple of weeks. She started making notes about today, including which foods you had for breakfast. She'd work on deciphering if there was something specific in it that triggered your nausea.

Her pen stalled against the paper when she felt you nudge her with your foot through the blankets. She looked over at you in question to see your eyes were closed though you weren't asleep.

"What are you doing?" You asked in a small voice, almost pouty. Jessie dug a hand under the blankets to give your calf a light squeeze.

"Making sure I take care of you two the best I can."

------

Another couple of weeks went by and Jessie wished she could say that your morning sickness waned, but it actually worsened. She was concerned for you, of course, but based on everything she read - and a precautionary call to the doctor - it was to be expected.

All she could do was try to help you navigate and mitigate best as possible.

It was especially hard being away from you these past couple of weeks. You'd stayed home a couple of times, feigning food poisoning and a flu, but you'd insisted that Jessie go to practice and to games.

You flip flopped between pouty and needy to stubbornly independent and it was hard for her to determine which you really needed and wanted. You tended to fall more on the side of the latter, so Jessie ultimately went to Kansas for her game, but it was torture leaving you in your condition.

While away, she texted and called as often as she could, though even that proved to be a greater challenge than expected since she couldn't risk anyone overhearing her conversation. You hadn't even told your families yet. Though you were both excited to share the news, you agreed you'd wait until the first ultrasound to tell your families, then a while longer for others.

When she was home though, she was all yours.

Though things were far from pleasant for you, it seemed like you'd collectively found some coping mechanisms or small wins.

Through Jessie's keen note taking, you'd refined some strategies involving smaller meals, sometimes broken out into just snacks throughout the day. At this point, you were on a diet that was rather tailored and limited to stay inoffensive to your sensitive system. Concurrently, your cravings were reaching a peak of their own.

When you weren't sick to your stomach, you'd developed an affinity for grapes, the texture and sweetness satisfying some kind of itch for you. "The firm ones, not the gross mushy ones," you'd specifically instructed. By now, you'd even developed very particular timing around partially freezing them before eating.

Pickles weren't a thing for you - at least not yet. However, dill pickle chips were. Very much so. Jessie went on one late night adventure to the convenience store for you to get them before caving and stocking up despite the fact that she wished you'd eat something a bit healthier.

She'd made the mistake of trying to limit you and nearly had her head bit off. She kept her opinions on the chips to herself after that.

One evening you were napping, simply exhausted from being sick, balancing work, and still trying to contribute at home. Jessie finished up a few chores she'd convinced you in relinquishing to her - at least temporarily - before heading into the bedroom to check on you.

You must've been warm because you'd kicked off all the blankets and your shirt was hiked up. Jessie wordlessly approached and gingerly climbed onto the bed, laying flat on her tummy, perpendicular to you and stared at your exposed stomach. Eventually, you woke and peeked an eye open. As you registered her position, you gave her a curious look as she still silently surveyed your stomach.

"I think I can see the slightest curve here," Jessie said, eyes still trained on your stomach as she lifted a finger to point at your abdomen.

"Hey," you said mildly as you swatted her hand away. The action surprised her and she pulled back giving you a sullen expression.

"Sorry," you chuckled softly, before grabbing her hand back and laying it on your stomach where she pointed. "My mind defaulted to just regular weight gain and being offended, but then I remembered, "Oh wait, I'm growing your baby" so I should show sometime soon."

Jessie hummed quietly, her sullenness forgotten as she gently stroked your stomach, studying it further as though she might discover something new. Honestly, it was a bit early to show, she was probably imagining things, but she willed it anyway.

Without realizing it, she began to speak.

"Hi little one." She felt your eyes on her and could feel her cheeks warm. She'd talked about the baby plenty, but she'd never talked directly to them before. "How are you? I know you're going through so much and just trying to find your way, but it would be really nice if you stop making poor Momma so sick."

She stole a glance at you, her cheeks growing hotter at the way you watched her in adoration. She gave you a faint smirk.

"It's not that I don't love taking care of Momma, but, I know she'd like to have a regular meal again. And not be so tired." She grinned when she heard you snicker. She continued to caress your stomach. "She's working really hard to make sure you grow nice and strong and healthy. Please try to be nice to her - she's our favourite person, you know." She cocked her head. "You can give her all sorts of trouble when you're a teenager instead."

You laughed. "I think you're going to be way more uptight than me when it comes to stuff like that, so I think you're just jinxing yourself, babe."

"Maybe," Jessie offered noncommittally as she smiled softly, still enamored at the mere thought of the life that rest below her hand and inside of you. "I can't believe that we're making a little human being," Jessie said in quiet awe.

Your hand came to rest on her forearm, your thumb slowly stroking her. "I know. It's incredible to think about."

"I love you," Jessie told you. "And I love you, too," she directed to where your baby was forming. Unexpectedly, her throat tightened with emotion. "I can't wait to meet you."

"Jess," you said gently as you began to brush her hair back. "You're going to make me cry."

"I can't help it," she said, her voice still taut as she leaned up onto her forearms to lay a soft kiss at the center of your stomach.

You continued to stroke her hair, but grew silent as you now stared absently at the ceiling. Eventually you gripped Jessie's hand and squeezed it tightly.

"I love our family so much already." You took a steadying breath. "I really hope everything goes well at the appointment tomorrow. I don't know what I'll do if something's wrong."

Jessie shushed you gently as she shifted to lay next to you.

"There's no reason anything should be wrong. We've been doing everything we should." She kissed your cheek. "Just one more sleep and we'll know for sure. And whether everything's perfect or if there is something we need to address, we'll do it together."

You exhaled heavily through your nose before you turned your head to meet Jessie's gaze. Your eyes were watery, but you smiled at her.

"I love you so much."

A few minutes passed, Jessie's own eyes falling shut as she lay peacefully with you. She opened them upon hearing you give a small huff of a laugh and seeing you wear a faint smirk.

"And I'm sorry I haven't been in the mood lately," you said. Jessie frowned deeply.

"Do not apologize. Like I said, you literally have a tiny human growing inside of you and you've been so exhausted and sick lately. I just want you to feel better. I'm not thinking about anything else," Jessie told you adamantly.

Your smirk grew. "Yeah? What I saw of your shower this morning tells me otherwise."

Jessie's face immediately began to burn hot as the memory of her activities this morning played vividly in her mind. You snuck a quick kiss, somewhere between teasing and placating.

"I can't wait until I feel better so I can take care of you again," you said. Jessie began to stammer a rebuttal when you interjected. "In the meantime, you really don't have to hide it. I may be puking my guts out, but I still think you're gorgeous." You shrugged lightly. "I'll just have to imagine it's my hand around you. Or you know, another part of me."

Jessie's eyes rolled into the back of her head and she shifted onto her back releasing a groan of both exasperation and appreciation. She covered her eyes with a hand, feeling the heat radiating off of her face. She shook her head with a laugh.

"Jesus Christ."

#jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #woso x reader #woso imagine #jflem #canwnt x reader #wlw fluff

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tritoch · 6 months ago

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Have you got any thoughts to share about Sphene? I saw your post about how misrepresented FFXIV’s female characters are, and I’ve been hoping to see anything more than the typical “Evil AI colonizer etc.” or “Tragic woman who can never change ever” or “Wuk Lamat’s girlfriend”. Maybe our interpretations will differ but I’ll be happy if you can provide anything more complex than those.

Sure! Throwing all this under a read-more for anyone who hasn't finished 7.0 yet. I think I'll probably expand on this more later but wanted to get initial thoughts down. (Note after writing: I meant this to be brief but uhhhh brevity is not my strong suit sorry. This take just sort of ends abruptly because I realize I'm rambling.) Again, spoilers through the end of 7.0 MSQ.

I think Sphene is the sharpest work the game has done yet in casting the antagonist as the noble double of the protagonist (a well it returns to a lot with Emet, and Zenos, and Golbez, and...). But because the protagonist here is Wuk Lamat and not the Warrior of Light, that's also a much more defined and interesting role. To me, Wuk Lamat is, above all, the Righteous Queen, who rules thoughtfully, wisely, and justly, and whose claim to the throne is justified by her moral clarity. Sphene, in turn, is also a wise and good queen, one who undertakes all her actions with her people first in her hearts, a sense of compassion towards all, and a clear eye for the consequences and costs of her intended course of action. And it leads to utter disaster, for her, her people, and the people of Tural. That rocks!

The first half of 7.0 is about justifying the fact that Wuk Lamat's going to be Dawnservant. Wuk Lamat is compassionate, curious, wise, and open-minded. She wins over rebels and malcontents not by asserting her authority or by strength of force, but by taking her obligations to them (as her subjects) seriously. She knows many of her subjects personally and takes a great interest in their lives, and she respects even those who openly oppose her.

And everything Wuk Lamat does, Sphene does to 11. Wuk Lamat respects her subject peoples and is curious about their cultures? Sphene forcibly annexes Yyasulani, but goes out of her way and expends Alexandria's limited resources to enable the remaining Xak Turali to live in their accustomed way if desired (…to the extent allowed by the new permanent lightning storms and the internal conflicts caused by regulator adoption). Wuk Lamat cares about her people not just in the abstract but as individuals? Sphene visits sick kids, knows them by name! Wuk Lamat understands the burden of rulership is too great and cedes half her power to her brother? Sphene recognizes her own weaknesses and makes a deal with the devil to keep Alexandria's culture alive! Wuk Lamat is willing to die for her people? Sphene will forcibly traumatize herself into being a better queen, if that's what rulership demands.

For an expansion that spends the first half being like "wow isn't this perfect candidate for the crown so likable and humble? wouldn't it be nice to be ruled by a good king?," it sure is funny that the final boss is THE QUEEN ETERNAL and she hits you with attacks like LEGITIMATE FORCE and ABSOLUTE AUTHORITY and ROYAL DOMAIN. This, to me, is Sphene's role: she complicates and questions the themes we've developed in the first half. Most importantly to me, she makes us ask: what is devotion to a people or culture even worth?

There's a thing I kept thinking of constantly during Dawntrail, not because I think it directly influenced the game in any way but because the parallels were so stark and startling. It's Jonathan Hickman's New Avengers #18 (2014). Truthfully, I'm not a big comics guy; I only know this sequence because Ta-Nehisi Coates cited it as inspiration for his Black Panther run on Twitter once (I also didn't read TNC's run, I was following him for politics talk). Forgive me, comics people, if I get any details wrong. The parallels are almost comical, though. It goes like this:

A superhuman secret society formed of some of the smartest heroes (and villains) in the land re-forms to oppose an existential threat caused by incursions from other dimensions that threaten to cause literal collisions between Earth and its alternate dimension counterparts. Seeing no other alternatives, they undertake work on a weapon to destroy these other worlds. T'challa—king of a fictional hyperadvanced nation called Wakanda, and also the superhuman Black Panther—meets with his ghostly predecessors, the previous Black Panthers/kings, for he fears the moral stain on his soul and the souls of the people of Wakanda, if they survive explicitly by killing their alternate counterparts, will be too heavy to bear. His ancestors are not impressed.

To them, there is no question at all. A king's duty may be complex in the execution, but it is simple in its conception. Your people come before all others. Always. This is, must be, the fundamental ethic of a good king. To do otherwise would be a betrayal of the social order on which this imagined good monarchy is built. In a situation like this, the only option is to do what you must to protect them. "Will there be a cost? Yes. Might the universe burn? Let it. . . . You will kill them all if it means Wakanda stands. The golden city must never fall."

"I will do what I must" is Sphene's guiding principle. It is so important to her that when she recognizes that her sentimental attachments are making her waver in her duty, she severs them entirely, sacrificing her whole identity to the throne. It is also implicitly Wuk Lamat's position: she has no choice but to fight Sphene because to do otherwise would be to fail to protect her people. In fact, it's briefly even sort of the Warrior of Light's position, as when you tell Sphene before her trial that you understand what you must do, which is shut her down to protect others.

(One quick thought about the Warrior of Light: one cool thing about the antagonist this time being a double in a more exact way than Emet or Zenos is that it means other characters get a chance to relate to her differently than Wuk Lamat. The Warrior of Light, for example, is pressed into her service immediately upon your first meeting as the Queen's Champion, there to defend her if need be against all evil. This role is further affirmed by both robot Otis and Endless Otis, who essentially hand off their role as her knight to you, and reinforced when you flash back to the "might I call upon your aid" moment right before the end. Except, of course, you are loyal not just to her, but to the principles she represents, which her own acts betray, and so your ultimate act of aid is to essentially pass judgment on her and execute her. In a sense, you become the internal safeguard that a political system is supposed to have to protect against this very issue, and which Alexandria explicitly lost when it cast out/forgot Otis. Very Voeburt/ShB tank quests, it owns.)

But really, it's Sphene who embodies this sort of grim logic best. Aside from her transformation into the Queen Eternal, it's also why she suggests you simply become Alexandrians. It's the only way for her to reconcile her values and worldview, which have backed her into a corner where preserving Alexandria has come to mean a maximalist declaration of war on all life outside its borders because the kind of absolutely pain-free life she envisions for her citizens is completely unsustainable.

In this reading, one of Sphene's main beats is to unsettle what has preceded her in MSQ. In nearly all respects, she shares your values. She prizes life, is curious about other cultures, believes in the greatest good for the greatest possible number. But she is also a queen, and therefore irrevocably (in her eyes) tied to her state. Gulool Ja Ja and Wuk Lamat (and Koana) are the mythical wise rulers, thank god--but what if Wuk had inherited a Turali state that wasn't desperately in need of cross-cultural understanding, but one in a state of war? What value would her deep love for the people of Tural have held then? Sphene says, it would have held no value. If the survival of your people means harming the innocent, you harm the innocent. Kingship allows for no alternatives.

But she also concedes, in the very next breath, that she is still kind of wrong. Because what happened here was not inevitable, despite her programming (a brief note: to me Sphene being programmed is exactly the same as Emet being maybe-tempered, it's a fantasy gloss on the idea of social and cultural education. "I was programmed for this" is really no different from "I was trained and educated for this"), because the truth is that this kind of thoughtful, principled devotion to the state and its people is also a form of sentimental attachment, in the end. One that is maintained not because it is natural, and necessary, but because the monarch, too, likes it, and gets something from it.

In so many ways, in so many senses, the monarch is the state. Kings and queens may fancy themselves merely a reflection of their people's needs and desires, but of course even a cursory glance at history will tell you that far more often, states reflect their rulers. Sphene and Wuk Lamat both suggest that their conflict was inevitable, but was it? Or is the truth, as Sphene glancingly acknowledges here, that she turned her own fears and desires into the same policy goals that led to this tragedy? And if so...what does that say of our Good Queen, Wuk Lamat? Perhaps this could be different if they met earlier, says Wuk Lamat. But when? When did Wuk Lamat ever not love her people so dearly that she would not have sacrificed herself for them, or caused mass death for the sake of their survival? When did Sphene not believe the Endless to be people, or the preservation of Alexandria to be the most important thing? Maybe she means "had we met before you met Zoraal Ja," but of course, we the player actually saw their meeting. And we know that Sphene even then was not the hapless naif she'd like to pretend. She always knew exactly what she was doing.

We know the price of this kind of thinking, this Hobbesian view that states are engaged in a struggle of all against all. Living Memory lets you walk through it. To preserve Tural, we exterminate the Endless. We befriend them, learn about their lives, promise to remember them, and then we destroy them and their homes, leaving nothing but a bleak blank landscape and the sound of wind. This is what Sphene would have done to Tural and Eorzea. Indeed, it's what she's already doing to the people of Yyasulani, because no amount of well-intentioned aid can make up for trapping people under the dome for 30 years and systematically eroding their culture through the resonators.

To me, this is what makes Sphene really work, that way she has of forcing Wuk Lamat and the player to commit the same kinds of sins she has. We'd like to think ourselves better than her, but of course, we've already reconciled with and integrated Mamook's brutal eugenicist regime back into Turali society well before we ever met Sphene. At the end of our long "wow isn't having a wise queen cool???" expansion, we are met with "Legitimate Force" and "Absolute Authority" and see them for what they truly are: nothing but tools of violence. No longer does the idea of the Warrior of Light hanging around Tural as Wuk Lamat's advisor have the same attraction, now that we have been reminded of the way the putatively unquestionable logic of kingship can ultimately lock even the wisest and kindest rulers into a path of war and exploitation and destruction.

I think Sphene is FFXIV's most interesting and nuanced depiction yet of a leader. She really, truly, wants nothing more than to save her people and protect them from pain. But even seemingly loving and compassionate goals like these can readily lead us down dark paths. She's a "hard men make hard choices"-type character, a noble but misguided opponent, but as a loving and elegant fairy queen instead of a grizzled knight or extremely sad man. She fucking rocks.

#sphene #ffxiv #dawntrail spoilers #dt spoilers #spoilers #overtagging this one lmao #sphene alexandros xiv #meta: durai report

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propertyofwicked · 9 months ago

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LOOK AFTER YOU - LN

based on this request! ✧ my inbox is open! ✧

warnings - mentions of sick, poorly reader, mostly fluff <3 not proof read

masterlist the playlist

y/n hadn’t been sure why her body had woken her abruptly, until she felt a familiar dull ache in her stomach, panicking slightly at the thought of being or even feeling sick. she hadn’t felt well the night before, but she tried pushing the thought aside as she shifted out of lando’s tight embrace to lay on her back, hoping to manifest her inevitable illness away. but her blood soon ran cold, a sweat forming on her skin, and the need to run to the bathroom became unavoidable.

the first wave of nausea came early, some hitting the floor before she held the rest down and fell to crouch over the toilet. tears came streaming down her face as her sickness paused momentarily - she hated being sick, she hated that she’d made a mess, and she hated that she could hear the faint sounds of lando stirring, and the bed creaking as he made his way to her.

“y/n? bab-?” he began to call out, but found himself interrupted.

“the floor!” she shouted back, half stuttering through her panic, “watch the floor.”

lando had thought he’d heard retching, her tearful tone confirmed that for him as his gaze tried to avoid the sick and step around it. he stood in the bathroom door, assessing the situation momentarily before meeting her at her side, crouching down as his hand rubbed her back as his hand reached for a discarded hair tie to pull her hair out of her face as the second wave of sickness came over her.

“you’re ok, just breathe. just breathe,” he told her, his voice still gruff from his sleepiness. he reached out for some toilet paper, pulling the girl back into him to clean up her face slightly. her body slumped back against the wall as lando rose to his feet, moving quickly to fill a glass with water.

“need to drink something, angel,” he told her, pressing the cup to her lips and tilting it slightly as they parted. finally, she assumed this wave of sickness was over, but her breathing still hastened and her hands shook in her lap, the tears still rolled down her face.

“i-im sorry,” she uttered out, trying to avoid lando’s gaze despite him crouching directly in front of her.

“for what?” he asked her softly, moving to rest a hand on her jaw and stroke his thumb along the skin of her cheek, “being sick is normal, y/n - you don’t have to apologise for that.”

“for the mess. i didn’t mean to, ill clean it up i promise,” she told him, hands still shaking with the memory of her past boyfriend being so angry at her when the same thing had happened. y/n winced in anticipation of lando’s shouting to start as he remembered the floor, but it never came. instead, the glass of water was place to her side and his other hand settle on her other cheek.

“you will do no such thing,” he firmly told her, looking into her eyes. they were bloodshot, either from the strain of being sick or the crying - he didn’t know - but what he did know was that she was really unwell, potentially worse than he’d ever known her to be. he pressed the back of his hand to her forehead, feeling the way she was burning up under his touch, and yet her whole body shivered as though it was cold.

“you hot or cold?” he asked her, trying to check his theory.

“freezing,” she replied, noticing the way his eyes widened at her response, “why? what’s wrong?”

“you’ve got a a bad fever baby, meaning this is probably not a one time thing,” he told her, warning her slightly before he stood, pulling her up with him and letting her topple into his embrace, “gonna get you in the bath quickly, yeah?”

lando’s brain recited everything he had learnt or done before when someone had been poorly, knowing that ringing his mum at 3am was not an option. he started running the bath, checking the water was cool enough before he lowered her body into it.

“ill be back in a second,” he told her, kissing her forehead. he watched as her eyes shut, and leaving the room to clean up the floor whilst she attempted to bring her fever down.

the next morning was no better, y/n had spent the rest of the night either crouched over the toilet or shivering beneath a thin sheet as a hot sweat covered her entire body. lando stayed awake with her, scared to close his eyes in case she needed him, knowing that she wouldn’t wake him.

he had resorted to texting his mum anyways, explaining the situation as he asked for guidance. lando had sighed in relief when she replied, knowing she’d know what to do.

mum → she probably just needs to sweat it out. keep her cool, hydrated and comfortable.

mum → try and get her to eat some plain toast, little and often till she can manage more

mum → keep me updated please, and send her my love x

he smiled at the message, replying with a quick thank you before he moved back to the bedroom holding a bottle of water and a slice of plain toast. his heart filled at the sight of his girlfriend, curled up on the bed, her eyes staring at the film playing quietly on the tv.

lando sat on the bed, pulling her body to rest between his legs, her back laying on his chest. he could feel the way her heat radiated onto him as he helped her eat the toast, one mouthful at a time.

but y/n still couldn’t keep anything down, and hours later she was still lying in bed, trying to nap away her sickness with little success. lando had been gone a while, so she stood slowly, shuffling her way around the flat until she found him in the kitchen, doing something on his phone.

“hey what’re you doing out of bed?” he asked her, head rising to look at her when he heard her walk in.

“too hot,” she replied, moving closer towards where he stood, “needed to get a drink.”

“you should’ve just shouted for me, i would’ve got it for you.”

“im perfectly capable of getting myself a drink,” she told him bluntly, though immediately she disproved her own statement, having to grip the counter as her vision blurred and her balance faltered. lando’s arms reached out quickly, hands gripping at her waist from behind to stabilise her.

“im sure you are baby, but right now id love it if you rested and let me take care of you,” he told her, careful not to patronise her. lando began to move the two of them back to the bedroom, holding her tightly as he did, and lowering her softly back onto the bed. he jogged out the room quickly, grabbing some water from the fridge before coming back to she her laying with the sheet covering only her legs.

“how are you feeling?” lando asked her softly, lying next to her and tucking fallen strands of hair behind her ear.

“shit,” she replied, trying to hold back tears but lando noticed immediately.

“what’s up? what are the tears for?” he asked her, pulling her in closer with his arms wrapping around her body.

“i jus- i hate being poorly. i feel so useless and im just a burden to you. you have your own life to live you shouldn’t have to spend your time looking after me,” she told him, her body shaking slightly as she cried.

“it’s my job to look after you angel, the same way you look after me. and im happy to do it because i love you,” he replied, his hand rubbing up and down her back supportively.

“thank you,” she replied.

“mum sent her love by the way,” he informed her, happy to hear her laugh lightly after a rough day.

“i wondered how you knew how to get a fever to break,” she told him, leaning her head back to smile up at him.

“hey!” he defended, “i know things! i just thought asking my mum would be safer.”

“tell her thank you, from me. and thank you, really.”

“no need to thank me, baby. ‘just doing my job - you wanna try eating again? im thinking plain pasta this time.”

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris smut #lando x reader #lando smut #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #formula 1 #mclaren f1 #mclaren #lando norris fluff #propertyofwicked

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little-miss-dilf-lover · 1 year ago

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Hello!

If possible could you write a fic with reader and matt in an established relationship and he hears something when he's around them and it starts driving him nuts and then he finally realizes is a tiny heartbeat bc reader is pregnant but doesn't realize it, and he's like overjoyed?

sorry this is my first time requesting lmao

hii!! this is very cute :( very happy to be first to write one of your requests☺️ thanks for requesting, hope you like it💌

HEARTBEATS.

matt murdock x fem!reader

word count. 481

Recently, whenever Matt was near, he wore an expression you couldn't quite place, looking as though he was concentrating - like his brain was preoccupied. You knew he often had a lot on his mind, so you waited the questioning - wanting him to come to you when he was ready, though he never did.

Another week had passed, and he continued to model that same sceptical face around you, still no closer to the route of his confusion.

You're lying on the sofa, basking in the early evening sunset, nursing your nausea and awaiting Matt to return home from the store. He told you he'd briefly pop out to pick up some things for dinner - that he'd get something to help with your sickness bug, something to ease the upset in your aching body.

You hear the keys jingle in the door, indicating Matt's return home.

"Hey, sweetheart," he calls out, closing the door behind himself. "Sorry about the wait. Was so busy out there," he continues, placing the bags on the counter. He makes his way to you on the couch and takes a seat on his knees in front of you. "How you feeling?" he asks, slipping his hand into yours.

"Gross," you simply reply between a soft breath, closing your eyes. You were starting to feel it again - like the room was spinning.

His thumb circles over your skin, attempting to ease you. "I'm sorry, angel," he coos, speaking gently.

Matt props himself higher on his knees, extending to reach himself over your middle. He places a light kiss to your stomach over the fabric of your top and then carefully rests the side of his head in that spot - trying to comfort you. He keeps hold of your hand and laces his fingers between yours, playing with your hand as if to distract you.

You peek down at Matt on your stomach, watching his brows furrow, seeming like he was focusing - that same darned face again. You extend your spare hand towards his head and nestle your fingers in his hair, soothingly stroking over his scalp. "What is it?" you ask, your confusion mirroring his.

He faintly shakes his head and shushes you softly, a smile growing.

"Matt?"

"It's not the flu, honey," he beams at you, lifting his head from your stomach abruptly. "It's not the flu," he repeats, the words almost catching in his throat.

"What do you mean?" you question, following his movements.

"Sweetheart," he coos, drawing out the petname with a gentle nod - like he was trying to prompt you.

"No?" you whisper, speaking in disbelief.

He nods once more, his features softening and melting upon hearing the news. His grip tightens in your hand, and he brings it to his lips, placing another kiss where the last one dried.

"We're going to have a baby?"

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

some reason when I was writing this it reminded me of when vision said “yes, my love,” to wanda when she got her baby bump🥲 now im sad

#request #matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock one shot #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock x fem!reader #daredevil #matthew murdock x reader

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drunkinyourbenz · 28 days ago

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drunk arguing w billie?

i went slightly overboard i am so sorry anon

୨ৎ i don't wanna talk right now. b.e

୨ৎ billie eilish x fem!reader

୨ৎ genre: angst

୨ৎ content: fighting (duh), billie's drunk, toxic relationship, emotional abuse (?), billie's a bitch, dont wanna spoil anything else js read it babe <3

୨ৎ taglist: @47lake @st0nerlesb0 @n0vabug @darkside-0f-the-sun @asterisk-eyes

୨ৎ note: sorry in advance <3

you were anxious, to say the least. you knew it had gotten bad again for billie, that much was obvious. but you’d expected her to maybe… talk to you about it. after a year and a half of dating, you felt like perhaps you could be someone she trusted enough to turn to. but you weren’t.

it was nothing personal, you supposed. she wasn’t talking to anyone about it—not finneas, not zoe, not even maggie. she had a tendency to close herself off, and you knew that was something she had to work through herself.

…but that didn’t stop the fact that you were up at eleven thirty at night, wondering when your girlfriend would come home. you felt sick with worry, your stomach turning in the most heart wrenching way. what if something was going really badly wrong? what if it was worse than you thought?

you couldn’t take your mind off it, no matter what you did. you’d even dragged yourself into the kitchen to bake some cookies, thinking that maybe having something else to focus on would ease your worries. but no, after every cup of flour and every pinch of salt, your mind drifted back to her. you almost burnt the cookies because of how heavy your heart was with worry.

recently, she’d been getting home later and later, and although you acted as if nothing had changed, you could remember vividly every hour where you wondered where she was, if she was okay. most nights, she would get home around ten pm, crawling into bed with you and wrapping her arms around you. the feeling of her head buried in the crook of your neck brought far more comfort than it should, considering the situation.

earlier in your relationship, she would get home at around six, maybe eight. either way, you’d have time to spend together. you ate dinner together like a normal couple, and sometimes you had movie nights. it didn’t matter what you did, because you were together.

but now, you weren’t sure if you’d eaten dinner together once in the past two weeks.

each time she got home late, you could smell the alcohol on her. it wasn’t that strong, but it was the pattern that worried you. all signs were pointing towards a downward spiral, and she wouldn’t even talk to you, her own girlfriend.

upon hearing the door open abruptly, you looked up from where you’d been staring blankly at the chocolate chip cookies as they cooled. you pursed your lips as you heard the door slam, and you suddenly didn’t want to see billie anymore. you’d been so anxious about where she was, so eager to finally see her again, but… you didn’t want to see her, not like this.

but it was her house too, so soon enough, stumbling footsteps could be heard through the hallway, and you heard her lazily kick her shoes off at the door. it didn’t take long for her to come into view as she walked into the living room that was connected to the kitchen you were in. she dumped her bag on the couch, shrugging her jacket off while she was at it.

she did a double take when she saw you, as if she’d expected you to just be fast asleep in bed. she froze for a second or two, before letting out a heavy sigh.

there was no other sign of acknowledgement, she walked to the sink and grabbed a glass of water, looking past you as if you didn’t exist. you could’ve sworn you felt your heart sink—this was worse than usual.

closing your eyes briefly, you inhaled deeply, you were well aware she hadn’t been talking to finneas or maggie about this—you’d just gotten off the phone with a very concerned maggie, and you felt so guilty for not being able to assure her that everything was fine, that her daughter was okay. because you truly didn’t know.

the silence that hung over the room was heavy and uncomfortable, making you feel strangely claustrophobic. you knew that the silence would have to be broken eventually, so you spoke. you skipped the usual ‘how was your day’ and simply got straight to the point. “...are you okay?”

her head snapped up as if she’d been snapped out of a daze, and she looked at you as if she were suddenly seeing you for the first time. you watched as she swallowed, and finally forced herself to speak in a whisper. “...i don’t know.” billie replied blankly, and you felt your heart ache at her tone. it was as if she had already accepted that fact, and wasn’t going to do anything to drag herself out of the pool of endless self destruction.

“is there anything i can do, my love?”

in the past, that sentence would have had her collapsing into your arms, letting you hold her until she felt even a little bit better. this time, however, just she looked at you for a moment. behind that cold facade, you could’ve sworn you saw something flash in her eyes–hope? love? you weren’t sure, because it disappeared as quickly as it’d flashed over her face.

her voice came out harsher than you’d expected when she spoke, “you could leave me alone.”

you simply blinked in surprise. you weren’t going to push her to talk to you about it, obviously, but it confused you that she was resorting to this…meanness. she didn’t just say it like she needed space—which, in reality, was something she had gotten a lot of lately—she said it like you were the issue. like you had caused everything wrong in her life at the moment. that stung more than you thought it would.

however, you didn’t want to be that pushy girlfriend who couldn’t let things go, so you just nodded slowly, trying to hide the concern still in your voice. “i mean, if that’s what you need…”

the two of you stood in the kitchen for what felt like hours—it was probably just five minutes, but the tense silence was suffocating. you wanted to say something, to help her, but what could you do that she wouldn’t just scoff at and ignore?

abruptly, interrupting the strangling silence, billie stood up. in her haste, she knocked over a glass on the table, and you flinched as you watched it fall to the floor and shatter. billie didn’t spare the broken glass a single glance as she snapped, “you know what?”

your eyes dart between billie and the glass before settling on your girlfriend, looking at the uncharacteristic anger in her expression. “what?”

“i hate that you do this! you never push me to talk! you never help me! you never…” she trailed off, running out of words to say but certainly not running out of anger.

“excuse me?” you raised an eyebrow, “haven’t you noticed the way i’ve been doing absolutely everything i can to help for months? everything. no matter what i do, you push me away. you push everyone away—i just got a call from maggie, who was crying because she’s so worried about you. i can’t do shit to help if you don’t want to be helped, billie. no one can.”

her mouth fell open, and she spent a minute just staring at you. you could see the debate she was having with herself in her mind, the way she was wondering whether to follow the rational or emotional part of her brain. you could tell that she knew you were right, but it looked like her frustration was too intense and her mind was too clouded by alcohol to actually think properly.

the anger won, as it had been a lot recently. you were right, of course. you always were when it came to her—you knew her better than you knew yourself.

“shut up! you’re not helpful, and you can’t fix me! you can’t fix anything!” her voice was only raising in volume, and she stepped closer to you, a finger jabbing the air between you to emphasise her words.

you subconsciously took an instinctive step backwards as she stepped towards you, your back hitting the countertop. “then tell me what i can do!”

billie scoffed, “you can leave! you can ignore it like you usually do!” she was yelling at this point, “you can be useless like you usually are!”

you visibly flinched at those last words. part of your brain reminded you that she’s drunk, she doesn’t mean it, but the other half was shouting at you about how drunk words are sober thoughts. your mind was racing at this point, was that really how little she thought of you? you swallowed heavily before speaking softly, “do you…do you really think i don’t care?”

momentarily, she seemed to recognise the hurt on your face, and something like guilt appeared in her eyes. said guilt didn’t last, and the anger was rushing back even more all-consuming than it had been before, “of course you don’t care!”

you stared at her in disbelief—did she genuinely believe you didn’t care? did she not see all the effort you put in for her? you opened your mouth to speak, but she bet you to it.

“you know what?” she didn’t give you time to speak, she just rushed into her point. “i wish you weren't even here. i’d be better off dealing with this alone. without your stupid, useless attempts to help.”

yet again, you stared at her in shock. you didn’t think you could be more hurt in one night even if you tried. she’s drunk, you kept telling yourself, but deep down you knew that wasn’t an excuse. if she loved you, she wouldn’t say these things. once again, she continued before you could get a word in. her anger was consuming her in her drunken state, there was no thought behind her words, just the first insults she could find.

“you’re a fucking burden, you know that? i don’t need you, i don’t want you, you’re just in the way. always in the fucking way!”

just when you thought it couldn’t get worse, she went there. you froze in place, taking a long moment to just stare at her in disbelieving silence. “...what did you just say?”

noticing that her words finally seemed to hit a nerve, she only pushed further, “you heard me. you always have been.”

that hit like a slap in the face, leaving you speechless. you truly didn’t know what to say, it didn’t feel like you were looking at the love of your life anymore. this was a stranger, someone you knew so well but at the same time knew absolutely nothing about. you weren’t sure when the first tear had fallen, but they were now streaming down your cheeks.

“you–” billie opened her mouth to continue, but you interrupted her.

“that’s enough.” your voice was shaky but surprisingly firm, and at your firm tone, billie pauses. her mouth was still open to continue, but then she looked at you. she really looked at you, and saw the tears on your cheeks and the look in your eyes.

it was as if she were seeing you for the first time in the whole night, and you watched as the angry mask crumbled right in front of your eyes. after watching her for a moment, your eyes trailed down to the floor as you took a deep breath, wanting to look anywhere except for her.

“fuck,” she murmured, her breathing shallow as she seemed to actually realise what she’d just said.

“i-i’m sorry–” billie whispered, her voice weak as she looked at you, reaching out for your arm and only causing you to shift away from her so she couldn’t touch you. you watched as her eyes widened in panic at your avoidance of her touch, as the weight of her words seemed to sink in. “i didn’t mean it–you know that–”

you give her a look, raising an eyebrow, “really? because you had a lot to say.”

“i love you. you know that.”

those three words didn’t feel like they held the same meaning as they used to, they weren’t giving you the butterflies you used to get. actions speak louder than words, and her actions were greatly lacking. “then start acting like it.”

“how?” her voice was a whisper, barely audible.

you swallowed, looking down at the floor and then back at her. it felt like her fist was in your chest, ripping your heart out. it physically hurt you to have this conversation.

“i can’t spell it out for you, billie. you used to show it, you’ll figure it out if you want to. if you really can’t, i think that says something for itself.”

in your mind, you silently wished for her to say something. to say she can try, she can fix this. but you weren’t sure how much was even left to fix, after all these months of cracks spreading through your relationship and pushing you further apart. but you remembered. you remembered when the two of you use to dance through the kitchen just because you felt like it. you remembered staying up all night cuddled up in bed having whispered conversations about absolutely nothing and everything at the same time. it hadn’t been like that in a long time, but you knew that both of you remembered it as if it were yesterday.

and despite it all, despite how much billie wanted to beg you to stay, to do everything she possibly could to cling to you until she somehow mended all the broken patches in your relationship, she knew you were right. she couldn’t let you tell her how to fix this, she’d have to figure it out by herself.

and she didn’t know how, so she let you stand up and walk out the door.

which, its own cruel way, was an answer in itself.

#୨ৎ lyd's inbox #୨ৎ lyd writes #୨ৎ lyd yaps #୨ৎ lyd's requests #billie eilish x reader #billie eilish #billie eilish x you #billie eilish angst #angst

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