#I knew better but I'm my own worst enemy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

predestinatos · 3 months

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hungry for life - MV1 (18+) ༄˖°.🪐.ೃ࿔*:･

pairing: max verstappen x female!reader

summary: it could've been a dream trip. if it hadn't been for the nightmare of the company. (also i didn't proofread i'm sorry)

tags: enemies to lovers, smut, lots of smut, filthy really, p in v, fingering, reader swallows, idk what to say.

word count: 5.2k

MINORS DNI!!!

Monet’s Water Lilies occupied the entire room, listening to your conversation intently.

“It isn’t that big of a deal” you friend said, whispering and pointing to the painting as if she was commenting on it.

Your gaze remained on the careful brushstrokes, head tilted as you replied, “Easy for you to say. I mean, seriously? Max?” your hand raised to a specific part of the painting that really wasn’t as impressive up close as it probably was from afar - but there was no other way to have this conversation.

“You’re in Paris, looking at a Monet, with your best friend” she continued, a hint of a smile in her tone of voice. Her amusement only frustrated you more as she walked a few steps to the right, trying to inspect another part of the mesmerizing painting.

“And my worst enemy” you rolled your eyes as you followed her. “It’s not fair. When you said it would be you, your boyfriend and a friend of his, I didn’t expect this. I was thinking more of a double date.”

She looked at you, shrugging, causing her beautiful hair to bounce with her. “It can still be” she joked, to which you could only reply by turning your back to her - and consequently, Monet himself, muttering a ‘fuck you’ to her giggling frame and to the lilies who stood motionless in the still water.

You stood, alone, in front of Sam Francis’s In Lovely Blueness. You felt unlovely blue yourself, though you knew you couldn’t let this ruin a dream trip for you. Your excitement might have died down the minute you met Max at the airport and put two and two together, but you were sure it was mutual, which did make things better. At least he wasn’t particularly amused himself, falling for the exact same trap you fell into.

As if manifested by your own thoughts, his frame appeared on the corner of your eye, big eyelashes adorning his eyes as he stared ahead, almost as if he had no intention of acknowledging you whatsoever. “This is inspired in a poem by Hölderlin. It has the same name and everything. In Lieblicher Bläue. It’s a representation of-” he started, shocking you at first but then angering you just as well.

“I am an art major. I don’t need you to explain this to me” you spat, a fake smile adorning your lips as he looked at you, your annoyance, and chuckled. It was brave of him, you had to admit - to intentionally go out of his way to annoy you by explaining something you were sure he knew you knew.

Crossing his arms across his chest, his head slightly tipped to the side, he admired how easy it was to get under your skin. He wanted to be nice, to engage in a conversation and try to achieve some type of neutral ground, but he found it impossible to do so. “Since you know so much, why don’t you guide us?”

The comment came out aggressive and petty, which wasn’t particularly intentional but he also hadn’t made any effort to hide what he felt towards you anymore. You stepped closer to him. It surprised him, how daring you were all of a sudden, but also how much you actually seemed to dislike him, to the point where this was something you did publicly, unashamedly.

“You want me to guide you?” you asked, whispering while looking up at him. You were smaller than him, his frame towering over you even unintentionally, but that factor didn’t stop you.

“Sure” he said, swallowing dryly, jaw clenching as the tension between you both rose. The red on the painting seemed to stand out even more and spread on the corner of his vision, inundating the whole painting.

“Okay” you replied, taking two steps back away from him, opening the distance between your bodies, carrying the red color with you as the painting seemed to fill with blue again. But not for long, for you walked and looked at him as if urging him to follow, which he did, curiosity winning against irritation.

After a couple of steps, you reached the end of a hallway, secluded and stripped of any painting, walls too bare, contrasting with the previous setting.

He was confused. He really didn’t know what you would do next, though this whole scenario just proved you were just as childish about your feelings as he was. “And, to your left you have the exit sign, which will take you right where you belong” you said, moving your arms like a museum guide, overly cartoon-ish on purpose, knowing it would only annoy him more.

“You’re such a child” Max said. Indignation wasn’t something he felt often, yet this time he felt it appropriate. But he was also thankful - thankful that his attempt at being nice didn’t work, for he did not have to pretend to like you for a week when he absolutely did not. “I tried, at least.”

At this, you could only gasp in surprise at his courage to make such a statement. “You tried? By mansplaining a painting? Oh, that's new!” it was almost funny how you two were whispering in shots, or shouting through whispers, the empty hallway echoing your words as if to emphasize them.

“It’s more than what you’ve done so far! I’m not the one walking around looking all bitter and bratty.”

You stood, motionless, looking at him. His green eyes fixated on yours and burned as if they were scorching red, and as much as you wanted to lash out even more at him, you figured walking away was the best solution. Once again, turning your back on someone in Paris. It had to be done.

“Oh, yeah, walk away. Good luck doing that at the hotel” Max said, the comment a nail in your coffin, a way to affirm that yes, he had won, yes he was right, and the points had been made - you were to avoid each other at all times.

You, however, stopped. His last words echoed in your head. What did he mean, the hotel? The moment you closed the door to your room and he closed the door to his, you two would be out of each other’s sight. So what did he mean by that? That he would annoy you further, being noisy, screaming, to the point where you couldn’t sleep? You were about to ask when you decided that would admit some sort of defeat - asking someone to clarify a point you hadn’t understood in an argument seemed weak, frail and ridiculous to you, so you kept walking, desperate to find your friend again.

“No,” you said when the room card was handed to you. “Fuck no” you kept going, your best friend’s hand raised towards you as she tried to contain a hint of a smile.

Now you understood Max’s comment. Now you were angrier than ever.

Why did you let your friend handle the hotel reservations? Because you trusted her good judgment. Which was bad judgment from your part, apparently, as she reserved two rooms - one for her and her boyfriend, and one for the friends they brought - you and Max.

“It has TWO beds” she tried convincing you, as Max had already gone up angrily, snatching the card swiftly without saying a word. “I wouldn’t put you two in a king sized bed. I am not crazy” she kept going.

The more you thought about it, the more ridiculous it sounded.

Max prided himself on his fast insticts and reactions to any unforseen events that might come his way. It was probably one of his best traits, one he always mentioned when asked about his favorite psychological aspect of himself.

But all that was put into question as he stood motionless in the middle of the hotel bedroom, towel wrapped lowly around his waist as the air conditioning hit his bare back and he heard the door click open.

He stood in the same place as you closed the door behind you and ran a hand through your hair as you exhaled. He had those brief seconds of you unaware of his presence to hide in the bathroom and get dressed quickly, or lay underneath the covers discreetly. Anything at all.

But he had no time to make a decision as your eyes met his, panic written across his green irises.

You prided yourself on your fast insticts and reactions to any unforeseen events that might come your way. It was probably one of your best traits, one you always mentioned when asked about your favorite psychological aspect.

But all that was put into question when you opened the door to the hotel room and saw a Max's frozen frame, towel wrapped lowly - too lowly, you thought - around his waist, swallowing hard as droplets of water ran across his bare skin.

No thoughts crossed your mind before you cursed, a hard "for fuck's sake" escaping your lips from accumulated stress over the events of the past 24 hours.

This was not how you wanted your trip to go. This was not what you had planned. It wasn't just sleeping in two separate beds.

This proved it clearly.

During this time, Max's brain found the opportunity to adapt to the situation, adopting an arrogant attitude that contrasted from his initial shock.

"Come on, I'm not fucking naked" he said as he turned his back to you, heading to the bathroom.

"You are underneath that towel" you pointed out, starting to follow him before stopping yourself, realizing it was best not to do it. "I mean, you knew I was coming"

You heard him chuckle - really, he made sure you would - and his head and bare shoulder showed up from behind the open door. "Yes. Hence the towel. Otherwise I'd be naked. Which I'm not. Don't be such a child."

You could only throw a middle finger at him in response - one that he found gave him the victory, the upper hand. One that signified the discussion was over and he was right.

He grinned to himself, closing the door as he undid the towel around his waist in order to put on his underwear and a t-shirt.

Max's hand reached for the small hanger where it was placed and his fingers wrapped around nothing. He looked at the empty hanger and then at the floor, completely empty of what he needed the most in that very moment - his boxers.

"Shit. Shit. Shit Shit" he cursed, looking around for an answer. He knew his only choice was to ask you to bring them to him, but he only knew it cost him that final victory he enjoyed so much, his ego and pride mixing with each other to create a selfishness that surprised even him sometimes.

You heard your name being called out from the bathroom. At first you thought you had imagined it, like in horror movies where it seems to be coming from everywhere, but when it sounded again you knew that wasn't the case, though it was equally as terrifying.

You jumped from your bed and went over to the bathroom, ear pressed against the door in search of a sign of danger.

"...Yes?" you asked.

"Can you bring me a pair of boxers? They're in my suitcase. That is if you don't want to see me naked for four seconds while I get them myself."

You groaned loud enough for him to hear, your steps heavier than usual so he could notice your discontentment even if he couldn't see it.

Walking over to his suitcase, you opened its zipper almost carelessly, searching for a pair of underwear in the midst of the collection of same colored t shirts and same fit jeans.

Max was walking around the bathroom like a mad man, realizing how ridiculous this situation was, and how ridiculous it was that he had accepted it without asking who his company would be first. Maybe this was a lesson, yes, from the ghost of vacations future warning him about being careful who to trust, or to spread kindness, or something.

Before he could dive deeper into thoughts of madness, a knock sounded on the door. He grabbed the towel quickly to cover himself, although he did not bother wrapping it around him. He was not planning on opening the door entirely, not after the scene you caused.

As he opened, he saw an outstretched hand - yours - holding a pair of underwear. The fabric dangled in your pointer finger as if it was made of a burning material that you needed to get rid off, and fast.

He grabbed that from you, but as he was closing the door, your arm remained in place.

"I'm childish but you brought like two packs of condoms for this trip?" you said accusingly, and he could hear your smirk, as if you finally had something to hit him with.

"Don't flatter yourself, I didn't know I'd end up with you" he said as he pulled his boxers up and opened the door once again. "Is this less offensive than the towel?"

He was close - closer than you had expected - and though he hid his own surprise at seeing you at the doorframe, he couldn't deny that he didn't exactly measure the consequences of not checking where exactly you were before opening the door so fast.

His chest was close to yours, so close part of him almost felt as if you were touching, the proximity making him feel unbelievably taller than you, though he was sure the difference couldn't be that big.

You tried not to stare. Really, you were trying really hard. But he was so close to you he occupied your entire line of vision, his pale skin appearing so smooth in front of yours, contrasting with the dark color of his underwear - that you unconsciously had picked.

He towered over you, head low so he could look at you in the eyes, though the view wasn't particularly bad from up there. Your pajama top was loose - too loose - in your frame and your shorts were the very definition of the word.

"You wanting to sleep with me would be an insult" you said, moving away from the doorframe so he could pass, though he didn't move, merely crossed his arms across his chest, muscles tensing slightly at that. "And sure. It's an improvement" you continued, staring him up and down - taking his frame in but disguising the act as disdain.

Max's head leaned to the right, a smirk growing on his lips as he realized he got you for a second time. Nonchalantly, eyebrows raised, he decided to act.

"That's not what you said a year ago." There. He had you. And while before this bickering came from a place of anger and hatred, he was growing increasingly more amused at how you matched his own pace.

"Yeah, but that was before you opened your mouth" you retorted, focusing hard - too hard - on his face and not on his body, though it did not help either. His hair was messy and slightly damp from the shower, and his stubble had grown in a way you could only describe as attractive - not perfectly shaved but not entirely messy either.

He bit his lip then, mostly because he knew what to say to you after your words and was trying not to smile. Also because you had admitted to feeling attracted to him, even if only physically, which added to his confidence as he stared at you and ran his eyes down your body. "What's wrong with my mouth?"

You were dumbfounded for a few seconds, mouth opened at the ridiculousness of his comment, what it implied and the line it had crossed. "You're such a piece of shit" you said, while his grin grew to his eyes.

"You want me" he sounded so matter of factly, as if he had commented on the weather or said the sky was blue.

"I hate you."

"Never said you didn't" Max took a step forward towards you, and you found yourself unable to walk away. Something about his deviance pulled you in, and part of your brain told you you could leave, though another tried to convince you you were only staying because this was your room, after all.

"Then how could I possibly want you?" you asked, though it was more directed at yourself than at him this time.

He looked away then, as if the answer was obvious, his body moving closer to you but never touching you, both decreasing and increasing the distance between the both of you.

"You want me but I'm a piece of shit. And that's why you hate me. Because you know, deep down, you still want me to fuck you" as he said this, he moved away, almost as if the conversation had never happened, though it had, just now.

"I don't want you anywhere near me" you tried to sound assertive but part of your voice had failed by how taken aback you were, still wondering if you had imagined his words.

He stopped and turned to you once again, battling his own brain on whether or not he should push you a bit further.

"Define near" he said, as he walked closely towards you, like a predator slowly approaching its prey, defying them.

Your chest rose and fell as he moved, and you found yourself unable to tell him that that was near enough, mostly because it wasn't, not even close.

The back of your legs hit the bed - his bed - and you fell backwards, sitting on it as he moved as close as he could towards you. "Is this near for you?" he asked, though his tone had changed into something darker, raspier and more filled with lust than flirt.

You swallowed, refusing to break eye contact, aware of how you looking up at him provided a view for himself as well.

"Who wants who now, huh?" you asked teasingly, a smile spread across your lips as you noticed his body tensing up - with a bit of anger but maybe a bit of arousal too.

"Is this wanting you?" he asked back, finding your language had moved from insult to rhetoric, questions that needn't answer - not when he could see your eyes shining as they looked up at you from your eyelashes, not as he saw you crossing your legs despite your attempts at discreetness.

You shrugged at his question, not wanting to back down on your claim but also not wanting to give him the chance to refute it.

His hand cupped your face with firmness, holding your stare as he lowered himself towards you, bringing his lips close to yours, so close you felt his skin brushing against yours although he broke away before you could indulge in his initiative.

"What about this?" he asked, testing you now, though he knew the answer himself, felt it in his body as his boxers felt tight against his erection.

"I'm still unsure" you replied, and as if awaiting for that sign to keep going, Max exhaled and ran his hands through your bare thighs, pinching softly at them, causing you to hiss and giggle from his contact.

"Do I have to keep asking?" it was his time now to look up at you, something close to desperation rubbing at him as he knelt between your legs.

"Not if you admit it" you leaned to kiss him, to - admittedly - give him some kind of upper hand, though you weren't sure if you were playing anymore, not as his tongue hungrily explored your mouth, so desperate it was almost sloppy yet so warm and arousing and fulfilling.

"Fucking hell you're stubborn" he managed to let out during the brief instances where you weren't pulling his neck towards you, making sure his lips remained on yours.

His body moved on top of yours as you laid down in his bed, his hips pressing against yours as you felt his cock against you, a moan escaping your lips and a sigh leaving his at the contact.

"Is this, huh?" he asked again, mouth now moving to your neck, kissing it so lightly you shivered, only to bite you afterwards, the sensations overwhelming you with need for him.

Your body felt hot, burning intensely; and Max's body against yours only fueled that, his voice making you feel more than you wanted to admit even to yourself.

You wanted him to feel like you were feeling in that moment - unaware he was already as on the edge of completely losing himself as you were. So you held his hand with yours and brought it in between your legs, allowing him to get his response.

Max had to steady himself. Really, part of his brain froze and only his body worked, mouth watering as he felt how wet you were, mind going completely foggy at the fact that you had done it, at how hot what your simple gesture had been - at how strongly he reacted to it.

His cock was so tight in his boxers it felt almost painful, especially when he knew how comfortable he could be, inside you, feeling your entire body react to him and him alone.

However, he craved to drive you mad as well, convinced you would probably lose your minds together in that hotel room. "Use your words" he said, pulling your shorts down in order to get better access to you.

His fingers teased you gently, brushing over your entrance and pulling away just as you were ready to take them. "Tell me, is this wanting you?" he insisted, his voice breathy and hoarse.

You wished you could answer, could say more than his name which came across as a whine for more of him inside you. It took all your strength to focus, on winning, on seeing him crumble before your eyes, losing his composure which was so so close to fall apart.

You bit your lip while staring at his eyes - once so bright but now so dark, so filled with something you hadn't seen in him before - and took him completely by surprise as you ran your hand across his erection through the fabric of his underwear.

Max closed his eyes and his eyebrows were now close together in an almost frown. "Fuck" were the words he let out as he dropped his head.

"Admit it" you demanded, not only because you wanted to win but because you couldn't wait any longer - you felt empty, his teasing frustrating you to no end.

Without warning, his fingers dipped inside you, filling that emptiness, even if just slightly. He moved them painfully slowly, savoring every inch of your moans as you kept your hand on his hard cock.

You could feel its length and thickness, making your mouth water at the mere thought of having it inside you. You started moving your hips against his fingers, craving more of the pleasure, more of him.

Max was just observing you at that point, how desperate you were for him, how beautiful you looked with flushed cheeks and swollen lips with barely anything being done to you yet.

"I would never admit something like that" his words contrasted so much with his thoughts, but he knew one fed the other both for you and him, this back and forth the main reason why you both felt an incessant pull towards one another.

"You're ridiculous" you managed to reply, though the words came out muffled and confusing, earning you a chuckle in response.

"You're being fucked stupid and I'm ridiculous?" he asked, grinning as he used a hand to removed his boxers, freeing his erection. You couldn't help but whimper at the sight, the sheer anticipation of what was to come, at the opportunity to having him buried inside you.

However, letting him win this easily wasn't something you were willing to do - and though your mind was cloudy and your judgment blurred, you stood on your elbows, face almost touching his. Your hand caressed his tensed arm which kept its movement inside you, and he couldn't help but look at your contact.

You tilted your head, biting your lip as you stared at his face - the desperate attempt at remaining composed, the rosy cheeks and disheveled hair, lips wet and eyes so dark they looked almost black.

"Who's stupid now?" you asked, hot breath against his neck. He could hide many things, but he couldn't control the goosebumps spreading across his entire body, he couldn't hide the way his shoulders tensed even more, how his throat bobbed up and down as he swallowed.

This was thrilling. Maybe too thrilling, if such thing existed. He thought of the painting, of the colours spread across the canvas and somehow, in that moment, that seemed to increase every emotion he was feeling, and he had to close his eyes to control himself and steady his breath.

He had to keep it going. He knew he had to - he knew this was precisely what he wanted, to drive you insane, to keep the tension running across both of you until one exploded.

So he removed his hand from where it was - so comfortable, so hard inside you - and he could see you pout slightly before returning to your previous cold attitude. "You want me to stop, I'll stop" he said, climbing fully on top of the bed, both hands on either side of your head, hovering above you.

"I never said that" you bit back, though it was hard to focus as he started leaving trails of kisses on your neck, going down to your chest, and on your navel, biting your shirt and pulling it - removing the last layer of clothing you possessed.

"Then what do you want?" he asked, face in between your thighs, just above where you wanted him to be buried. Max's grin didn't hide the fact that he knew exactly the answer to this - but, just like you, he was stubborn, loving to hear the words escape your lips, to know that you wanted him to ruin you completely.

His hand now caressed your thigh, fingers softly moving up and down, drawing invisible nothings on your skin.

You fought against your will to just say it, although you wanted to give it up and just admit it. As if reading your thoughts, his eyes pierced yours with amusement as his cheek rested against your thigh, stubble scratching your skin pleasurably. "We don't have all night, sweetheart" he whispered.

The nickname caused your heart to race, but what came out of your mouth was a scoff, arrogance still coating your actual feelings despite the situation you were both in. "You're just as desperate as I am" you told him, lifting your right leg to caress his bag with your foot.

"Desperate for what, hm?" he asked, biting the inside of your thigh as he climbed back up, facing you.

"To fuck me" you finally replied, knowing it was less of an admition and more of a dare.

"Is that what you want me to do? To fuck you?" the question was rhetorical, almost mocking, but at that moment you didn't quite care. Not when the tip of his cock rubbed against you, not when he tried so hard to steady his breath.

You could only nod, carnal insticts getting the best out of you. That was all he needed to let himself go, to let go of all restraints previously holding him back - if there were any.

He sinked inside you slowly, as if to prolong your pain and your pleasure simultaneously, savoring your reactions - your whine of pleasure, your closed eyes and teeth biting your lip, your eyebrows furrowed. You felt and looked so good it took all of his strength to focus on being the stronger, composed person in the room - something he never struggled this hard to achieve.

He dropped his head low, his forehead against yours as he steadied himself. "Fuck" he managed to say, along with a loud exhale. "You feel so fucking good" he continued, words leaving his mouth almost impulsively.

"Then don't stop, Max" you demanded, almost aggressively, as your body ached for more of him.

He pulled himself almost fully out and slammed back inside you, harder now, making you let out a loud whine - one which you rapidly covered by placing your hands over your mouth.

He kept going, hips slamming against yours with a steady rhythm as you uhmed in pleasure, eyes teary already as they rolled to the back of your head.

He wanted to hear you. In fact, he wanted to know others could hear you, hear how good he was making you feel, hear how his cock drove you absolutely insane. With an assertive movement, his hand grabbed yours and pulled it away from your mouth, then held your cheeks tightly as he made you look at him.

"Don't cover your mouth" he ordered, hungrily, feeling you tighten around him as he said it. "Let everyone hear how well you take it" he continued, speeding up his pace and laying on top of you as you wrapped your hands around his waist, caging him.

"F-fuck, Max" you started, unable to resist much longer, feeling his hot body against yours, your hands pulling his hair as he moved almost animalistically, so focused on your sounds he could only get off to them.

"You sound so pretty" Max growled, close to exploding as well. "So fucking hot" he continued, and you had to bury your teeth in his shoulder to keep yourself from screaming - all you could let out was his name as you felt him inside you, and his hips rolled against you, unmatched amounts of pleasure running through you.

"I'm so close, Max, I'm so close" you said, not realizing how often his name was being uttered by you, how it seemed like one of the few words you had left to say.

Driven to a state of total lack of control, Max let moans escape his own lips, his animal vulnerability resulting in your own orgasm.

Feelings you tighten and pulsing around his cock was the tipping point for him, as his body shuddered, pulling himself out of you as fast as he could.

“Open your mouth” he said, gesturing at you to sit back. You did as he demanded, still drunk from your orgasm, still completely at his mercy, and he came finally, warm come filling your mouth.

The view was Max’s dream come true - your mouth wide open and filled with him, so obediently taking his orders and so beautifully contrasting with your previous attitude.

“Now swallow” he said, tapping your cheeks slightly with his hand as you closed your mouth and did as he said, the slightly salty flavour filling your tastebuds.

You laid down on his bed, exhausted and completely fulfilled, while also dizzy with the amount of emotions running through your head. You closed your eyes, but felt and heard him laying down next to you, his arm brushing yours shyly now.

“Was that close enough?” he asked.

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aethelwyneleigh27 · 12 days

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A little something of Simon Riley x Bookworm!Reader

A/n: Did you guys miss this format? So do I, hope you guys are doing well because I would not wish my suffering on my worst enemy, for the first time in a while, school makes me want to self exit. These days have been the busiest for me and I doubt that it will get better from here. I'm just exhausted from life but never from you guys <3

Taglist: @wishesforyou @puff0o0 @simping4konig @simp4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @callsignsnowpunisher @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @connorsui @capuccino192 @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb @celestialhole @the-second-sage @starryylies @duck-a-doodle @everlastingmoonlightsworld @keiva1000 @iexiam @drewsmusee @konigceo

My CoD Masterlist <3

My Simon "Ghost" Riley Playlist <3

Simon Riley who absolutely adores your reactions when you read, a little bored on a lazy day in bed with him with your reading material in hand. The way you squeal and wiggle your feet made him want to peek onto what you were reading but he didn't need to, the moment you notice him curiously trail on you when you've finished a chapter or a moment you can't help but rant about.

Simon Riley who absolutely adores the way you get passionate about romantic stories, sometimes it motivates him to get a little creative with date ideas although you insist that simple dates are just fine.

Simon Riley who loves sneaking up behind you to peek at what you're reading, to see if you hide it while all flustered or if you bolt so he could playfully chase and pin you down.

Simon Riley who actually picks up an interest in reading because of you, he loved the idea that he's able to be more connected to you, having heated sessions of ranting together, dissing on annoying characters and such.

Simon Riley who was thankful you for introducing him to audiobooks, he was usually busy with some of the repairing and some maintenance of your shared home whenever he comes home after months. It gives him time to catch up while doing something productive so you can have your book review sessions.

Simon Riley who likes it when you look for him in the house after he went to do chores while you immerse yourself in another world. The sound of his name being called over and over by you is the best to him, sometimes waiting for you to say his name a little more before responding.

Simon Riley who builds you your very own bookshelf at your third anniversary, he went through the effort of finding a wood color that he knew you'd like and crafted the intricate bookshelf with a matching ladder that had wheels at the bottom so you could slide down like belle in that scene from beauty and the beast.

Simon Riley who gifts you reading material that you told him you were dying to read, your birthdays and other special occasions, even merch of hyper fixations you have, the same ones you use to decorate the bookshelf he made.

Simon Riley who likes to experiment in the bedroom based on what you've noted and annotated scenes on the spicy romance novels you've kept. He does it in his absolute spare time, sometimes when you aren't home, he likes to see what turns you on, so you'll come home to a surprise.

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cosmictheo · 6 months

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𝐎𝐁𝐉𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐘 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐒 | 𝐟𝐞𝐲𝐝-𝐫𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐚 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐧

(gif credits to @pascow)

— summary: feyd-rautha was used to have whatever he wanted, it was well known, but so were you; what you desired, was already yours. and what you crave right now, is him. —pairing: feyd-rautha harkonnen x female!reader —word count: 1.5k —warnings: death, mentions of killing, blood, fighting (yk the usual feyd), just the reader and feyd-rautha being horny and a slut for each other.

writer’s note: english is not my mother tongue, so please forgive me if there is a grammatical error. hope you like it!

yes, i'm finally back!! dune part 2 has dragged me out of my cave and has given me inspiration like never before.

Feyd-Rautha was psychotic. Everyone knew it, perhaps the whole galaxy was aware of his very eccentric... preferences and appetites. He was well known for his immaculate and animalistic way of fighting, of destroying anyone who dared to present themselves as his enemy, of anyone who would dare to challenge him. But he was also honorable, proud and loyal to his beliefs, perhaps too self-confident for your own liking.

But every strong man had a weakness, a weakness that could bring them to their knees, to yield, to be left vulnerable. You were Feyd's weakness, rather, his strength, his fortitude, the fire in his veins, the beating of his heart. And it was quite strange and utterly unimaginable to think that someone like Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen would have any feelings at all, there were those who firmly believed that he didn't even have a heart, not even a soul, that he was a demon in human form, a ruthless and bloodthirsty beast, the worst of the worst.

But there you were to prove otherwise.

It had been your idea to actually take him as a husband. Your parents disagreed, of course, for they thought you would be better off alone, after all, you were one of the strongest women alive, you didn't need any man or woman by your side. They called you the Golden Dragon, someone with too much power for this world, you had abilities that the world could not really understand yet, connections with the universe that could not even begin to be explained, the last descendant of one of the most ancient Houses, one that had vanished in time, detached from battles and senseless wars for power, a House that was recognized by that flag with the roaring and menacing red dragon on a golden field. That ancient beast that many thought extinct... until you came to Giedi Prime riding one.

And you had arrived just on his coming of age day, where his favorite ceremony was battles, of course.

You watched him fight the Atreides men from your seat, your mother and father sitting at your sides, watching him as well, all in silence. Your eyes followed his every move, not even pausing for a second to watch the other poor men being annihilated, no, for your attention was solely on Feyd-Rautha, noting the predatory nature of his steps, his precise and powerful movements, eyes darkened with delight, eager for more death and blood.

"He is a good warrior" Your father commented looking at him in awe as well.

"Too much so, I'd say" Your mother added in a naturally stern voice, distrustful dark eyes, observing the gory spectacle.

"He was born for it" Your father continued to comment, turning his head so he could look at you for a few seconds "For slaughter and death. Only to bring that."

"I think he's cute" you finally stated your opinion, voice low and serene, not even having the audacity to look at your parents, for you didn't have to look at them to know that they were both giving you horrified and scandalized looks now.

Your father muttered your name in a warning tone of voice.

"He would look good in our home. He's built for fighting and protect, just like us." You explained, finally detaching your eyes from Feyd-Rautha, who had just killed the last Atreides standing, unleashing a wave of applause, praise and cheers from the audience. "Don't you think so, father?"

Your look was almost defiant, and yet composed, and your father took it as a challenge, but he would never be so foolish as to show any disagreement with you, for what the dragon princess desired, she had.

So, after sharing a short glance with your mother, he gave you a short nod of his head.

"I do."

And so it was settled.

Feyd-Rautha, for his own part, saw you and knew you were meant to be his. He had heard of you, of course, his uncle used to insist that he must behave himself once your family arrived, for you were worthy of having the full respect of House Harkonnen, and that losing you as allies was not an option at all. So behave he did... or at least he tried to.

"I dreamed of you last night."

Was the first thing he said to you, both found in one of the large, dark halls of his home, just a couple of hours after his victorious fight in the arena. The Baron and your father were in an important and pending meeting in which neither your presence nor Feyd's was required, because the whole focus of it was the two of you, and a possible marriage to ensure the alliance and heritage.

His eyes were barely distinguishable with the all the thick blackness surrounding him, his pupils dilated with desire, hands clasped behind his back, as inflexible as ever. He had put his all into making a good impression, his uncle had ordered him to, and Feyd was quite obedient when it came to the Baron's wishes. He was so loyal to that foul man that you thought it was something no better described than adorable.

The thing was that, as powerful and menacing as he was, he was just another man, another pawn into this colossal game of power and thrones. And you felt rather pity for him.

"Na-baron." You greeted him somewhat pragmatically, turning fully towards him, golden eyes gleaming even amidst all the darkness through your gold mask. "It was a good dream, I hope."

"(Y/N) Pazuk, princess." He just took the satisfaction of deliciously savoring the name of your House, pronouncing it in that husky, deep voice of his. He also had the courage to move closer to you, rising from the wall and stepping cautiously, holding your gaze, looking down on you as if you were prey, a small helpless animal under his looming shadow. He then reflected, thinking about choosing the most suitable words... and the most appropriate ones "It was a very good dream."

You were in his territory, his planet, you knew it well and so did he, you were walking straight into the mouth of the hungry beast. Everything that was there belonged to him, he controlled it all and saw it all.

And everything he was seeing now was you. And he was intrigued, captivated even. Because he usually encountered boring and vulgar people, people who were nowhere near his level, people who he liked to torture and make bleed to death. And the thing was, you happened to stand on his level, and even higher.

"Tell me more." You had the courage to order him in a soft tone of voice. He knew instantly that you were testing him, he was smart and knew how to read people well... but you, you were different, he could see it too, you were much more complex than other people. And he was delighted.

A hint of a phantom smile tugged at the corner of his lips just as he stood in front of you, posture rigid and dominant. "You showed me the way. The right way. The way of victory, the way of life."

You swallowed spit slowly and he noticed it, for his eyes descended to your throat for a few moments before rising again to your face, analyzing every expression that passed through your gaze, every gesture of your lips, every sign you allowed him to see.

Then he twisted his head slightly, face turning somewhat mischievous. "You think I'm scary, princess?"

Now it was his turn to test you.

He watched as your lips parted before responding, raising your voice with pure confidence, naturally, holding his dark gaze. "I think you're quite the opposite really, Feyd-Rautha."

He was silent for a few moments, long moments in which he simply gazed at you intently, with his full attention on you, on your body, almost as if he was looking at your pure soul.

"You are my destiny." He finally uttered, you could hear how his voice had wavered more for softness than harshness this time. "Show me the way, my princess."

You managed to feel the warmth of his body against yours. For someone so cold and distant, his body was hot and warm like fire.

"Are you going to ask for my hand?" You ask in a small voice, feeling suddenly intimidated by his closeness. There were very few who dared to stand so close to you, yet there he was, threatening your personal space. "Because here I am, na-Baron."

Before I could answer you anything, you spoke again, twisting your head slightly, barely narrowing your eyes. "You think I'm scary, my lord?"

He had never been so profoundly proud and thrilled by his title as he was at that moment, when you slowly modulated it with your tongue like a purr, your voice tastefully savoring it.

"I think you are beautiful." He immediately responded. "And I want you to be mine."

And so, fate had done it's work.

#dune #dune part two #dune 2 #dune movie #dune imagine #dune x reader #feyd rautha #feyd x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha x you #feyd rautha harkonnen x reader #feyd rautha imagine #feyd rautha one shot #dune one shot #cosmictheo

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imagine-you · 24 days

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the darkest hour never comes in the night [Logan/Reader]

Summary: Part 4 of my Home 'verse. Logan gets back after a clean up job with the X-Men to discover that you're missing. He's ready to track down whoever dared to lay a finger on you, but first he's going to have to seek an old mentor for help if he wants to find you. // Once you realize you're trapped in a nightmare of Sinister's making, you have to find a way to free yourself of the illusion. Even if you do manage to escape, will you ever be free of Sinister or will the effects of his experiment linger? Word Count: 15.6k Author's Notes: This chapter may contain: Surprise cameos!, angst, rescue missions, protective Logan, an omega level mutant or two, a smidge of foreshadowing, found family dynamics, reader being a badass, and Logan's POV!

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

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Logan had never been the type to believe a good thing would last.

Even when he felt on top of the world, he knew that sooner or later he would stumble right off and fall back to where he belonged at the bottom.

After losing his wife and the X-Men, he knew that there was never going to be a different ending to his story. He lost himself in bottle after bottle, searching for every escape he could get if it meant he wouldn't have to think about everything that had gone spectacularly wrong since the moment he walked away from his family.

If he could take it all back, then he would. But he couldn't, so he was forced to move on.

Loathe as he was to admit it, Wade had saved him from himself. He had been quick to hate him, all the good things had long been burned out of him, but Wade had changed that by being a special brand of hopeful and moronic. He had pushed and pulled and persisted when Logan wanted nothing more than for him to shut the hell up. He had forced Logan to be a hero again even when he felt like his own worst enemy.

When he was convinced that his universe was a lost cause because of Wade's deception, he could feel himself start to slip again. He took out all of his anger and resentment on Wade, loving that Wade could give as good as he got, because he wanted to feel the pain he was doling out. Loss and rage had blinded him once again and he felt hope slip away from him with each time he stabbed and tore and ripped into Wade.

But then a miracle happened. He woke up in that shithole they called the Void and found his missing piece. Y/N wasn't his wife, and despite what he knew she feared, he never compared the two of them. They had different sighs, laughs, smiles, moans, and turn-ons. Any thought of them being the same person was swept away in the Void when he kissed Y/N. She didn’t feel like his wife and ultimately, that was what he needed to move on.

Y/N had never been a replacement for him. She was something entirely unique and while he had fallen hard and fast, the initial attraction based on familiarity soon strengthened into the absolute love they shared.

He was so terrified all the time that he would lose her too. When they were in Y/N's first universe, he had wanted nothing more than to rip the other Logan apart. The other Logan looked at her like he thought she was still wrapped around his finger, at his beck and call for whatever he wanted to take from her. But Logan had made sure he got the message that Y/N was no longer his to string along. She had moved on, and while Logan would never think he was in any way better, he knew that he would never treat her like that.

He would never leave her for anyone else. Not only because he knew it would absolutely destroy her to lose him twice, but because he would rather let Wade unload a whole clip of adamantium bullets into his brain before he lost her.

It was the thought of returning home to Y/N and Laura and whatever surprise dinner was awaiting him there that got him through the rest of the mission with Wade. They had agreed to help the X-Men clean up after someone had blown up a bank. No one died, but a lot of people had been injured. It was only one in a series of attacks that had plagued the city, and no one knew who was responsible.

If Logan's previous experience told him anything, it was that whoever it was would crawl out of the woodwork sooner or later. Bad guys loved two things. Taking credit for their shitty behavior and boasting about it to anyone who would listen. He just hoped when the person was caught, he was front and center, ready to put an end to them once and for all.

"So," Wade started as he kicked at a piece of rubble. "Who do you think this shit stain is?"

"No clue," Logan answered, shrugging his shoulders. "We done here or what?"

"Yeah," Wade sighed, waving at Colossus before he started walking away. "Let's get the hell out of here. I'm hungry enough to take a bite out of Piotr's big, juicy metal ass and last time I tried that I nearly lost a tooth," he lamented with a sigh. "What do you think Y/N's making us for dinner?"

"Us?" Logan wondered, quirking an eyebrow at him.

"Well, yeah," Wade said, clapping a hand to Logan's back and ignoring his growl of annoyance. "You might be ready to kick me out like last night's one night stand, but Y/N happens to love me."

"Oh, really?" Logan huffed out an annoyed breath. "She tell you that?"

"As a matter of fact, she did. She told me we had to keep it on the down low, though, because she's just using you for your looks. I guess I can't give her everything."

Logan rolled his eyes, knowing it was useless to try to get Wade to stop being such an idiot. It was just who he was.

When Logan got back to the apartment, he expected to find Y/N and Laura waiting for them. Y/N had been eager about whatever dinner she had planned, and he was excited to share it with his favorite people and Wade.

Except, when he unlocked the front door, it was to Laura pacing the floor and smoke rising from the stove. He hurried to grab the pan and shove it under the faucet while Wade turned off the stove.

"What the hell happened?" He asked, turning to see that Laura was now standing at the window, intently watching the sidewalk down below.

"Y/N's going to be upset," Laura confessed, not bothering to tear her attention away from where it was directed out the window. "She said ten minutes, but it's been longer than that, and it burned anyway. Now her dinner is ruined, but she's not here. She was supposed to be here."

Logan had never heard Laura say so much all in one go and he knew it was only because she was genuinely worried. Concern was beginning to take hold of the confusion he was feeling, and he didn't know what to do with it without the answers he needed.

"Where did she go?" Logan asked as he started walking towards Laura. “Where’s Y/N?”

Laura finally turned to look at him. "The market on the corner. I--" Laura cut herself off with a scowl before she shook her head. Logan could hear sirens down below and he wondered if someone had reported the smell of smoke in the apartment. "I heard a noise. A boom," Laura clarified. "I was waiting for her to come home, but she hasn't, and now I'm worried that was her. I should have gone to find out what it was, but I just kept waiting for her to come back. I'm sorry."

"Fuck," Logan growled before he was out the door, not even bothering to wait for Wade or Laura to follow him. He could hear their footsteps behind him, but he wasn't willing to slow down. He was downstairs and rushing towards the corner store, a million different worries flooding his mind the closer he got.

He drew to a stop once he got to the store. The windows had been blown out and glass littered the sidewalk. Logan cautiously walked forward, peeking inside the store to see if Y/N was there, but she wasn't. He could smell her, though, which prompted him to walk inside, ignoring an officer yelling at him that it was a crime scene.

Logan allowed himself the time to take a close look at the damage. He could hear Wade distracting the officers outside and Laura was hovering in the broken doorway, unsure of her welcome.

Half the shelves had been destroyed and most of the store's stock was on the floor, knocked down by whatever had caused the explosion. The glass doors of the refrigerated cases had been cracked and the smell of smoke was threatening to drive him out of the store, it was so strong.

He couldn’t smell Y/N in here. Not with the smoke and all the other scents still lingering. He was trying to keep calm, but it was hard not to run off, chasing the smell of her.

What the hell happened to her?

Something on the floor caught his eye and he crouched down to look at it. He picked it up, turning it over in his hand. It was her keys. He had a brief, inane thought that if her keys were here, then how was she going to get back into the apartment? How would she come home? Would she come home?

The thought had him clenching the keys so tight in his fist that they cut into his skin.

"Logan," Laura called, gaining his attention. She sounded terrified and that had him immediately turning towards her.

She was crouched on the floor, studying something he couldn't make out at first. When he got closer, he realized that she was staring down at blood that had spilled on the ground. He joined Laura before he reached out, gently touching the blood and letting it stain his skin.

"Do you think it's hers?" Laura asked, her voice small and wary.

Logan hated hearing her like that, because even when she was facing Cassandra's goons and Alioth, Laura hadn't been scared. Hearing Laura like that only let Logan know that this was real. Y/N was hurt and she was missing and she might never return.

Logan stood, fury and horror making his heart pound so hard he could barely hear anything over the rush of blood.

He left Laura behind, needing to get out of the store. He was torn between panicking and fighting and he didn't know which way to turn to get Y/N back.

All he wanted was to get her back.

Wade was still being a distraction and Laura was still in the store and Logan had no one there at his side to tell him it was going to be okay.

He noticed a man sitting in the back of an ambulance. He was wrapped in a blanket and talking to one of the EMTs. Logan hurried over to them, shouldering the EMT out of the way to talk to the man.

"Do you work here? Did you see what happened?"

"Hey, he's suffered a--"

"Shut the hell up, bub," Logan snapped over his shoulder at the EMT. "Was there a lady here? Did she get hurt?" He directed at the guy in the ambulance.

The guy nodded his head, looking terrified as he stared up at Logan.

"Hey, tall, dark, and gloomy, give the guy some space," Wade prompted, finally joining him. "What's got you being an angry bear all of a sudden?"

"The lady," the guy started, still keeping eye contact with Logan, visibly frightened by him. Logan had no idea what he looked like at the moment, but he was about ready to snap Wade's neck if it meant getting some answers out of the guy. "She, uh, she came in looking for something. And then there was an explosion. And then--"

When the guy stopped talking, Wade stepped forward, reaching out a hand to fully push the EMT away. Logan noticed the guy roll his eyes before stomping away in the direction of the police officers investigating the scene.

"Alright, what happened after that? Now's not the time to be skimping on the details, friendo. Not unless you want me to give you some incentive to participate in share time here," Wade said, pulling one of his katanas free from where he still had it holstered to his back.

"Okay, okay," the guy scrambled to stand, looking like he wanted to put some distance between him and Wade, but he had nowhere to go. He held his hands out, silently pleading for mercy. "Then this guy came in and he was weird. He had glowing eyes and he was carrying a pack of cards with him and he had this accent I'd never heard before. He seemed to know the lady, because he picked her up and carried her right out of here."

"Was he about this tall?" Wade asked, demonstrating with his hand a height that was a little taller than him. "Roguishly good looks and like he could make love to you all night long with incredible physical stamina? Did he sound like an extra on True Blood they don't want to give many speaking parts to?"

"Will you shut up and let the guy talk," Logan snapped, half-tempted to stick his claws in Wade's face if it would give him just a moment to figure out what was going on.

"I guess," the guy answered, nodding his head at Wade. "I don't know how, but I think he caused the explosion. I think he was looking for that lady. I think she’s why he was there."

"Come on," Laura said, appearing at his side. "We're about to have company."

Logan glanced over to see three officers approaching. "Let's get the hell out of here," he muttered, not wanting to deal with whatever questions they might have.

"So," Wade started, keeping at Logan's side as he walked away. "Either an old friend took Y/N or there's another close-up magician running around with the same tricks."

"You're suggesting it was Gambit? They were friends in the Void. What would he want with her? Why would he hurt her?"

"It's not the same Gambit," Laura supplied, shaking her head. "Our Remy adored Y/N. He never would have done that to her. It must be the Gambit from this universe."

"Then we find this Gambit and we get him to tell us where she is," Logan suggested, barely keeping his anger in check. He wanted to find Gambit and rip his throat out, but that wouldn't help him find Y/N. Once everything was said and done, he would find a way to deal with Gambit.

"I have a better plan," Wade chimed in, finally holstering his katana again.

"You're a fucking idiot," Logan snapped, barely sparing Wade a glance. "There's no way in hell you're going to call the shots right now. Not when Y/N is missing and hurt." His voice strained on the last word, and he noticed Laura shoot him a concerned look.

"I might not have a great track record when it comes to teams. Got kicked off the X-Men, got most of X-Force killed, poor Johnny God rest his soul and his truly impressive vocabulary, but I've done alright for you so far, haven't I? You're still here," Wade pointed out, reaching out to grab Logan's arm and wave it around as if he needed proof. "And so's the little munchkin," Wade continued with a glance at Laura. "And I'm telling you that I have a plan to get Y/N back."

Wade still hadn't let go of him and Logan couldn't resist the urge to drive his claws into his ribcage. "An educated wish isn't going to cut it this time," he snarled before he ripped his claws out, not caring when Wade wheezed out a 'son of a bitch' before hunching over and clutching at his side. Logan was ready to let his anger carry him through the rough emotions he wasn't ready to process. Y/N wouldn't like him turning on Wade, but using the regenerative asshole as a punching bag was safer than taking it out on anyone else. It wasn't like she was there to stop him.

"This time?" Wade asked with an incredulous laugh, cursing under his breath when he managed to straighten up. "If I remember right, the last time I made one we spent the whole night stabbing each other. That's not going to get Y/N back, so let's not waste our time."

"This is real," Logan hissed, getting in Wade's space and pushing him back until he stumbled and fell to the ground. Logan only loomed over him, itching to put his claws somewhere that would only cause Wade more pain. "And if she dies because your fucking plan doesn't work, then I'm going to tear your spine out and bash your face in with it."

"Oh, hold on there, angry bear," Wade was quick to reply, bouncing to his feet and putting a few steps of distance between them when he noticed Logan bring his hand up. "Y/N is my friend. I care about her just as much as you do. Don't you fucking turn on me when I'm just as invested in finding her."

"No, you don't fucking care about her as much as I do. You don't know--," Logan abruptly cut himself off, the hitch of breath in his chest painful. He felt like he was struggling to grab onto anything that would keep him from falling and Y/N wasn’t going to be there to reach out and help him up. He wanted her with him so badly in that moment that he could hardly breathe past the longing and fear. Where was she? What the hell was happening to her? Why the fuck would Gambit take her? Why would he hurt her? What if he never saw her again because he was off playing hero while he should have been home with her? If he got her back, she was never leaving his side again. He would go where she went. He would kill anyone who even so much as tried to lay a hand on her.

"Logan," Laura interrupted his thoughts, placing a gentle hand on his arm. "Just hear him out. If it's a stupid plan, we'll do something else. But for now, it’s all we’ve got."

Logan clenched his jaw, fighting the words he wanted to say. Instead, he gifted Wade with a reluctant nod of his head. "What's your plan, then?”

"Look," Wade started, moving to stand in front of Logan to halt his steps. "I may be an idiot, you're right, but if there's anything I know about the X-Men, it's that there's someone out there who can track down mutants using a super handy dandy mutant-finding machine," Wade pointed out, holding up two fingers to his temple, imitating Charles when he was using his abilities.

"Cerebro," Logan surmised with an incredulous laugh. "You want to ask Charles to find her." He knew it was the right plan. For once, Wade had a good idea. But the idea of going back to the X-Mansion and asking Charles for help felt wrong. He didn't know what it would do to him to go back to that place, even if it wasn't the same one he had left behind in his universe. He didn't know if he could ask Charles for a favor when he still felt like he had his Charles' blood on his hands.

He had done a good job of ignoring all the guilt and pain he felt being back at the mansion in Y/N's universe, because he was more focused on her than anything. But now she wasn't even here, and he might never see her again. He didn't want to dredge up old memories when he was still fighting down the panic that was making him sick to his stomach.

"You know old Chuck won't turn us away," Wade continued, ignoring the wariness in Logan's voice. "If anyone can find Y/N, it'll be him."

As much as Logan didn't want to revisit the place that featured heavily in his nightmares, he also didn't want to risk Y/N just because he couldn't get his head out of his ass. "Then let's go."

Seeing the X-Mansion under the current circumstances had Logan on the edge of a breakdown. In his old life, he had been a fuck-up and a drunk and it had cost him his wife. But this time, he had been better. He was present and had barely touched a drop of liquor and yet Y/N had still been taken from him. He felt cursed and he didn't know what was going to become of him if he never saw her again. It felt like it had been written somewhere that James Logan Howlett was meant to suffer every damn day of his miserable life and if this wasn’t proof of some cosmic punishment for being a complete fuck-up, then he didn’t know what was.

Colossus opened the door when Wade kept insistently knocking on it.

"Wade?" Piotr questioned, frowning at him. "What are you doing here?"

"We've come to see the Professor," Logan answered, already feeling the familiar swell of irritation rising with each moment that passed and he wasn't any closer to finding Y/N.

"I'm afraid--" Piotr started, but Logan cut him off.

"Professor!" Logan called, pushing past Piotr. "Charles!" He tried when he didn't get an answer.

"The Professor is busy," Piotr attempted to dissuade him, but Logan wasn't having any of that. He unsheathed his claws and turned towards Colossus.

"This is important," he spat, advancing on Piotr. "So, you find the Professor and tell him we need him now or I'm going to see what these will do to you," he warned, bringing his claws up so Piotr wouldn't need to question what he meant.

"Alright, angry bear, let's just take a moment to reassess," Wade cut in with a hand to Logan's chest. "Where's 'ol Chuck hiding? Hey, Chuck! Where you at?"

"Piotr? What on earth is going on?" A voice drifted in from the next hallway before Charles appeared in the doorway of the foyer.

"Charles," Logan started, advancing on him. "We need your help."

Charles studied him for a moment before tilting his head to the side. "You're not the Logan I know."

Logan never wanted another telepath in his head after what Cassandra did to him, but he knew Charles would never hurt him. It still didn't mean he had to like it. "I'm not from around here," Logan confirmed with a nod of his head. "But I need you to find someone for me."

Charles locked eyes with him and Logan knew he was skimming his thoughts, trying to figure out why Logan was really there. Logan did his best to give up all the information he could, knowing it would speed up the process a hell of a lot sooner than any conversation. The quicker they got down to Cerebro, the quicker they could find Y/N.

"Professor," Piotr called, but Charles shook his head.

"It looks like our new friends need my help," Charles told Piotr. "And I'm not going to let them leave here without doing what I can for them." Charles turned his wheelchair around before glancing over his shoulder. "Well? Are you coming or not?"

Wade clapped him on the shoulder before he skipped forward. Piotr muttered something in Russian before following, leaving Laura and Logan to trail behind the group.

Laura had been quiet for the rest of the trip to the mansion and Logan knew that she was feeling as guilty as he did right now.

"Hey," he whispered, waiting for her to look up at him. "This isn't your fault, you know?"

Laura scowled before she smoothed her expression out into something more neutral. "I know."

Logan reached out to put a hand on her shoulder, earning another scowl. "No, you don't. Because I know right now you're thinking that if you had been with her, then you might have been able to stop Gambit."

Laura nearly stumbled, but she was quick to right herself. "I didn't realize you were a telepath too," she snarked. "Don't tell me what I'm thinking."

If Logan didn't already know that Laura shared DNA with another Logan, he would have sworn they were actually related. As it was, he still couldn't help but care for the kid. She looked at him like she was seeing a ghost half the time, but he knew that she still had some things from her past she needed to resolve. If he could help, then he would, but he didn't want to push. He knew it wouldn't go well if he did.

"I don't blame you," he tried, knowing it was closer to what she was worried about along with Y/N's disappearance. "I don't want to lose you either," he also threw out when he realized it might also help.

Laura didn't respond, but he noticed the way her shoulders slumped, built-up tension easing with the reassurance.

Logan forgot what it was like to watch Charles while he used Cerebro. Knowing that Charles was touching every mind he could searching for Y/N had hope blooming in his chest. Charles was the most powerful telepath he knew, and he always came through for him.

He tried to hide his disappointment when he saw the concentrated frown on Charles' face.

"Y/N," Charles called out, searching for her. "Y/N," he tried again, staring off into the distance, seeing something Logan couldn't.

Charles shook his head, glancing up at Logan.

"There's something, but I can't tell if it's really her or not. It's faint, almost as if she's not really there or something's blocking me from finding her."

Logan suddenly recalled what Cable had told them. Y/N's forcefields would eventually be strong enough to keep out a telepath as strong as Charles. Charles must have read his mind, because he made a thoughtful noise.

"It seems as if whoever took her is trying to keep out a telepath." Charles didn't say anything for a moment before he added, "Or keep a telepath in. Possibly both."

"Why would they need to keep a telepath in?" Laura wondered, shooting Charles a nervous look.

"If they have unlimited access to her mind, then they can condition her to believe anything. If they can keep another telepath from intervening, then they can do whatever they want to her mind."

Logan's claws began to pierce through his skin, and he turned his back on the others so they wouldn't know how upset he was feeling. "Why," was all he got out with his jaw clenched and his shoulders so tense he felt like they would snap. "Why her? Why are they doing this?"

"I can keep trying," Charles offered, "but I'm not sure if I will be able to get through to her. Not right away, at least. Until then, I’m afraid I won’t be of much use to you. I won’t be able to give you the answers you seek."

"Remy," Laura blurted, stepping forward to stand at Charles' side. "Find Remy LeBeau. He's the one who took her and he might know where she's being held."

Charles went silent as he reached out, trying to track down Remy. Logan thought it would take a while, but it seemed like no time at all before Charles let out an amused chuckle.

"Well?" Wade prompted when Charles stayed silent. "Wanna share with the class, Professor?"

"The man you're looking for is standing at the gates," Charles finally spoke, breaking himself away from whatever mental conversation he had been having with Remy. "It seems he's waiting for you."

"Then let's not keep him waiting any longer," Logan growled, unleashing his claws. Logan didn't even wait for the others to keep up with him. He wanted to find Gambit and choke the life out of him for touching Y/N. He wanted to sink his claws into Remy's chest and let him drown in his own blood. Most of all, he just wanted to find out where the hell he had taken Y/N.

As he hurried towards the gates, he could see someone standing just outside them. There was a flash of pink and Logan realized that Remy was idly flipping one of his cards between his hands.

"Where the fuck is she?" Logan noticed Remy turn to watch him as he barreled down the driveway towards him.

"Who?" Remy played dumb with a slight smirk on his face.

"You fucking know who," Logan spat, pulling back one hand, poised to strike, once he was close enough to hurt Remy.

Remy flicked a card at him, letting it ignite and explode, knocking Logan back several feet.

Logan felt a low rumble in his chest that only got deeper as he threw himself at Remy again. Remy snapped another card at him and Logan felt fire dance along his skin as he was thrown to the ground from the blast. He knew he would only heal, but he was starting to get frustrated.

He rose again, intent on finally getting his claws into the smug, insufferable asshole before Wade stepped in. "Okay, big guy, the sun's getting real low."

"Shut the fuck up," Logan snapped before he took another swipe at Remy, only barely grazing his skin because Laura showed up and pushed Remy out of the way.

"He's the only one who can help us find Y/N," Laura told him when Logan shot her a betrayed look.

"Shit, I'm oh for two on that one," Wade groaned as he unsheathed a katana. "Guess it only works on the Hulk." He pointed one of his blades at Remy. "I suggest you start talking or I'm gonna make you talk. Where's Y/N?"

"I might know how to help you find her," Remy finally admitted, holding his hands up in surrender. "But I'll need a little reassurance that if I get you to her, you'll help me kill him."

"Him? Who the fuck is him?" Logan wondered, wanting to know who the fuck took Y/N so he could track the guy down and kill him.

Remy grinned at him, as if he knew what Logan was thinking and he approved. "He goes by Mister Sinister."

"Whoa, whoa, wait," Wade brought his hands up, putting one vertical and lying the other over the top of it to form a 'T.' "Let's just pause here. He calls himself Mister Sinister? Dear God, what is with all these self-important Marvel jackasses thinking they're so special? Mister Sinister, Mister Fantastic, Mister Negative," Wade listed, bringing up a finger for each one. "From now on, you're all calling me Mister Deadpool. No, never mind. Lord Deadpool," he settled on with a firm nod of his head. Gambit shot him a disbelieving look and Wade flipped him off. “Bitch, I said what I said.”

"Jesus," Logan grumbled, wishing that Wade would learn that sometimes saying nothing was preferred than whatever rambling nonsense was coming out of his mouth at any given moment.

"Yes?" Wade turned to look at him as if Logan had been addressing him.

Logan rolled his eyes, unimpressed, before turning his focus back on Remy. Wade was good at throwing himself into a situation and making himself the center of attention, but Logan wasn't about to let himself get distracted. Not when Y/N's life was at stake.

"Where the hell can we find this Mister Sinister?"

"Ah, I think your telepath friend should be a part of this conversation, seeing as he's the one who's gonna be finding your friend."

Logan drew in a deep breath, attempting to keep the refusal he so desperately wanted to give from breaking free. He wanted Remy nowhere near Charles or anyone else he might hurt. Charles was the only person who could find Y/N. If Remy took Charles out of commission, then they might never find her. But Logan, as much as he hated it, knew that he was backed into a corner. He was going to have to trust that if shit hit the fan, then Wade and Laura would help him keep Remy in line. He supposed if push came to shove, they could just get Piotr to sit on Remy and see how long he could stand it until he folded.

He looked over at Wade, meeting his gaze, and only felt marginally better when Wade gave a tiny nod of his head.

At least they were on the same page for whatever was about to happen.

"All right, Gambit, Le Diable le blah blah or whatever the fuck it is you're called, let's go, then," Wade said before gesturing for Remy to start walking up the path towards the mansion.

Gambit shot Wade a contemplative look before he let out a chuckle. "Your friend seemed to know far more about me than she was supposed to as well. I suppose we've met in another life," he mused with an expression Logan didn't like.

Logan felt a rush of anger at the idea that Y/N had looked up at Remy and thought it was the one she knew. He hated that Remy looked like he was nearly fond of her. As if he hadn't just kidnapped her and left her in the clutches of someone who would likely only hurt her.

He didn't realize he had raised his hand to sink his claws right into the smug bastard's back when Laura reached out and placed a hand on his arm. He was quick to snarl at her, but she wasn't phased.

"Once we know where Y/N is," Laura told him before flicking a glare at Remy. "Then you can do whatever the hell you want to him. But until then, try to make sure you don't do anything that will keep him from talking."

Logan hated to admit that the kid had a better head on her shoulders than he ever did, but he was also fiercely proud of her. She was smart and even though she had one hell of a temper, she was still levelheaded when all he wanted to do was kill whoever stood between him and Y/N. He knew, though, that once they had the information they needed, Laura would be just as ruthless.

Piotr was waiting for them at the entrance to Cerebro. He didn't look pleased to see Remy, but he still stepped to the side, gesturing for him to enter.

Charles was facing the doorway, his gaze staying on Remy as he entered the room.

"You're quite the fascinating one, aren't you?" Charles asked, studying Remy with a thoughtful expression.

"You could've at least bought me dinner first," Remy commented with a smirk. "Or at least got me liquored up before you went rummaging through my head."

"Extenuating circumstances," Charles replied and from the tone of his voice, Logan got the hint that Remy and Charles were having an entirely different mental conversation.

"You wanted to have Charles here and he's here," Logan pointed out with a gesture at the telepath. "So talk," he commanded, an itch just under his skin becoming more unbearable by the moment. He felt like every moment he wasn't running towards Y/N was a waste of time. He didn't want to play any more games with Gambit and he sure as hell didn't want to let him distract from why he was here.

Charles and Remy kept their eye contact for long enough that Logan was about to sink his claws into the any part of Remy he could reach if it would just get him to talk. Finally, he tore his gaze away from Charles, breaking whatever connection they had.

"The Professor here knows most of the story by now, but I'll tell you what I can," Remy finally said, turning to give Logan a curious look. "And then when I'm done, we'll go rescue your lovely bele and we'll kill Mister Sinister. It's a win for both of us, my friend."

"That's only if I let you walk away after this," Logan pointed out, pulling his hand into a fist, half-tempted to flash his claws at Remy.

"Oh, you're gonna need me, and I expect by the time we're through, you'll want to keep me around," Remy shot back with a wink.

"Holy shit, I think you've got a shot with Gambit," Wade hissed at him and Logan reached out to push him, nearly sending him toppling over the walkway.

"Tell us where Y/N is," Laura demanded, quirking an unimpressed eyebrow at Remy.

"I'll get to that," Remy promised, "but there's more to this than what you think. Mister Sinister has done horrible, terrible things and I did them all for him, because he asked it of me. But I don't want to be that person no more. Because he'll kill everyone he doesn't want knowing what he knows about mutants. That's where he lost me, you see, the killing. I knew that if I could pull this off, then I would be done with him for good."

"What does he know about mutants?" Logan couldn't help but ask, confused and worried about where Remy's story was going.

"He's a geneticist," Charles chimed in, his tone solemn. Logan didn't know what information he had gotten from Remy, but evidently it hadn't been anything good. "He craves power, be that for himself or those he deems worthy of his experiments."

"I knew that if I did this one last job and grabbed your Y/N for him, then I could count on the X-Men to help me take him down. I wanted to put him on your radar, because I can't take him down alone."

“Motherfucker, have you never heard of a cell phone? You pick it up and you call someone and tell them important shit. You don’t resort to kidnapping half the main pairing. Look what you’ve done to the story, you selfish bastard,” Wade admonished, pointing one of his katanas at Remy.

Remy went quiet for a moment before he continued, his expression somber. "I made a deal with Sinister long ago because I was scared of what I could do. It's not just these that I can charge and then make go boom," he explained, suddenly holding a playing card between two fingers. "It's anything. Even you," Gambit admitted, nodding at Logan. "I can do much more than that. But I got scared, you see, and I asked him for a favor. And then he asked me for one. That favor turned into a group of mutants who did a lot more harm than good. And I don't want anything to do with that ever again. So, no, a phone call wouldn’t have cut it," he explained to Wade. “I needed this to be personal. For all of us.”

"Just how dangerous is this Mister Sinister?" Logan wondered, fearing even more for Y/N's safety. Was he experimenting on her? Why did he even want her in the first place? He felt like Gambit was raising more questions than answering them and he hated that this just seemed to be wasting more time.

"Incredibly dangerous," Charles answered. "If Remy is right, then we will need to be careful. It's likely that Y/N is being manipulated into using her ability to keep me out. Whatever this Mister Sinister is doing to her, he doesn't want anyone interfering."

"I've been wanting this fight for a while," Gambit continued once Charles finished speaking. "But I've been careful, because I knew that if he learned about what I had planned, then he would kill me."

"I don't give a fuck about you," Logan snapped, knowing that Y/N wouldn't even be gone if it wasn't for Remy and his grand scheme for freedom from Mister Sinister.

"If it hadn't've been for me, then she would be dead," Remy shot back, his eyes glowing red for a moment. "I don't know how she snagged his interest, but she must've done something. He wanted her dead, you know, but I stole information for him. Information that saved her. Because like I told you, I'm done killing for him."

Logan didn't know what to say to that. What the hell had Y/N done that pissed off Mister Sinister so much he wanted her dead? The guy sounded like the worst kind of jackass and he didn't like that he had his hooks in Y/N now.

"And I knew that if I was going to pull this off, then I would have to get someone on the inside too. So, I'll show you where he likes to do his experiments. He has several labs, and I didn't drop Y/N off at any of them. But my partner, who also wants to see Sinister burn, is helping him." Remy turned to meet Charles' stare and they had another conversation Logan wished he could hear.

Charles turned back towards Cerebro and placed the helmet back on his head. Logan tried to be patient as he watched Charles search for Remy's friend, but it was hard to know if it was worth it when this might not even work. Remy might be lying or maybe his friend had double-crossed him. This whole plan was based on too many conditions and Logan was terrified that it would all fall apart.

But then Logan caught the faint edge of a smile on Charles' face. "It's been a long time," Charles mused, evidently talking to someone else. He didn't say anything for a moment. "Thank you," he finally uttered and removed the helmet.

"Who was that?" Wade questioned and Logan marveled at the fact that he had forced himself to remain silent for so long.

"An old friend," Charles answered before nodding at Remy. "I know where they are. I can get you to the facility from here. In the meanwhile, I'll continue to try to get in contact with Y/N. Our friend helped me get a little closer, but I couldn't get close enough. It's strange. She's there, I know she is, but it's like she’s been muted."

"And you trust this old friend?" Logan trusted Charles implicitly, and while he knew Wade and Laura would have his back, there were too many unknown variables being thrown in now.

"We might have had our problems in the past, but yes," Charles confirmed with a nod of his head.

Wade clapped his hands together before reaching out to slap a hand to Gambit's shoulder. Gambit shot him a bemused look, but Wade was already turning to address Charles. "Does this mean we'll finally warrant someone from the A-team of the X-Men? No offense," he threw in Piotr's direction.

Piotr merely frowned at Wade in confusion.

"Most of the X-Men are out on missions, but someone did just get back a few hours ago. I believe he'll be able to help you. I'll call him now," Charles offered before closing his eyes and bringing his right pointer and middle fingers up to his temple.

Wade shot him a glance before imitating Charles and Logan had to roll his eyes. He would never say it to him, but Wade had a good plan. Now, they were a step closer to finding you and they were even getting reinforcements.

"Oh my God, I'm so excited. Who do you think it'll be? I'm betting on Cyclops. Sure, he's a bit of a self-righteous little prick, but damn will he get the job done," Wade rambled, gesturing widely enough that he almost smacked Remy in the face. Logan was half-sure it had been done on purpose.

The door to Cerebro slid open and a man walked inside.

"Oh my God, it's--," Wade cut himself off as he considered the man. "Who the fuck are you?"

"Alex," the man answered with an annoyed glance at Wade. "Prof, what's going on?"

"This is Alex Summers," Charles introduced, gesturing towards the guy. "Or Havoc as the team is so fond of calling him.”

"Bitch, didn't you die?" Wade wondered, staring at Alex in confusion.

"What? No! I'm right here," Alex pointed out, gesturing at himself.

"Huh," Wade mused for a moment before he shook his head. "Wow, the retcon is real with this one. I guess people really don't give a fuck about the Fox movies anymore."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Alex asked, looking like he was just moments away from attacking Wade.

That definitely wasn't going to do a damn bit of good, so Logan decided to step in. "We need your help tracking down someone. She's…," he trailed off, not even sure there was a word to describe exactly what Y/N was to him. "Everything," he finally settled on and when a look of understanding flashed across Alex's face, Logan carried on. "And this Mister Sinister took her and now we need to get her back."

"Then let's go get her," Alex agreed with a simple nod of his head. "Where's she being held?" He asked as he addressed Charles, waiting for Charles to share the information with him.

Logan took a brief moment to size up the team. He looked from Wade to Laura, knowing that they both wanted Y/N back and would risk everything to save her. Alex and Piotr were X-Men who were trained to rescue anyone they could while also stopping the bad guy. And then there was Gambit, who was an unknown. He wasn't the one from the Void, but he claimed he was done with Sinister. Logan didn't want to, but he would have to trust him too.

Charles seemed to sense the turn in Logan's thoughts because he offered him a warm, reassuring smile. "I'll continue to attempt to contact Y/N and let her know you're on your way. You'll find her, Logan."

Logan didn't want to say that he feared the state he would find Y/N in. What if he was too late? What if she were gone and he would never get her back? He had suffered over and over his whole life, but she was the bright spot that pulled him up from the depths of rock bottom. If he plummeted that far again, he didn't think he would ever get up again.

"Have faith," Charles told him and it took Logan a beat too long to realize he hadn't voiced that out loud, instead choosing to speak to Logan in his mind. "Y/N is waiting for you."

Logan nodded his head before he looked at his makeshift team. "Let's fucking go."

You opened your eyes, staring at the bookshelves in front of you. You weren't sure whether you wanted to laugh or cry with relief, but you settled on making yourself stand up. You were ashamed, guilt threatening to weigh you down, at what you had become.

Charles told you that help was on the way, but what would Logan think of you once he found out what Nathaniel had nearly made you do? Even if it wasn't real, you had nearly killed someone out of spite. You had been so ready to destroy yourself just because you had been pushed too far. Years of training with the X-Men had gone right out the window and you had let the bad guy get to you.

"It wasn't real," you muttered to yourself, trying to convince yourself you weren't too far gone. All you had to do was think about Logan, the real Logan, coming to find you and it had you strengthening your resolve to get the hell out of whatever trap Nathaniel had constructed for you.

The help that was promised would be useless if you couldn't figure out how to escape the illusion. You tried to think of anything that might help you pull at the curtain, getting a peek at the wizard behind it. It took you a moment, but you finally realized besides Nathaniel and the voice in your head that had been Charles, there was one other fixture that had been steadily present in the fucked-up existence Nathaniel dreamed up for you.

You forced yourself to your feet, intent on seeking out the only other person who might be able to give you some answers.

She was still sitting at the table, idly flipping through a newspaper. Seeing her in her ever present all-white ensemble made you feel like you were about to trip right down the rabbit hole, chasing a white rabbit who would only bring you more trouble.

"Took you long enough, sugar," she drawled, arching a brow at you.

"Who the hell are you?" It wasn't really what you wanted to know, but it would give you a little bit of clarity.

"Emma," she supplied, finally turning in her chair to consider you fully. "Emma Frost. And you're Y/N. I know all about you," she claimed, briefly tapping a finger to her temple.

"You're a telepath," you surmised with a groan.

"Got that right," she agreed with a wicked smile that sent a shiver through you. "But I'm on your side, if there even are sides here. Nathaniel, as you know him, is someone who goes by an entirely different name. Mister Sinister," she added when you shot her a confused look. "He stole you away because he wanted to tweak your powers. He wanted you on his side, because he claimed you would be a wonderful agent of destruction. He's been using your forcefields to keep out Charles, but while Nathaniel's been distracted, I've been lowering your defenses and letting Charles in just enough to try to talk to you. I'm the one who told him where we are."

"Why," you bit out, not sure how to stomach all of the information. Why are you here? Why are you helping him? Why are you helping me? All those questions went unspoken, but from the way Emma nodded her head, you knew she still heard them.

"Nathaniel needed a second telepath to keep you contained in his reality, because he wanted to fully immerse you. He wanted a good telepath, someone who could keep his deception running. He contacted The Hellfire Club and thought he could hire me, but there's not enough money in the world to make me give a damn about his little schemes. But I was curious, and Remy approached me with a more tempting deal, so I'm here. Despite what Nathaniel might think, some people can't be bought. He was stupid enough to leave me in charge whenever he couldn't give his full attention to the lie and I’ve been doing what I can to let Charles in without Nathaniel noticing. "

"Remy," you muttered, thinking back to the explosion in the corner store that had started it all. "He was real?"

"Real as you or me, sugar. Nathaniel's got agents everywhere, but Remy wants out and I decided to help him. He wants Sinister gone once and for all and I thought that was a worthy enough cause to let myself get wrapped up in all this."

You didn't know how to keep up with everything she was saying. You felt so angry, fury burning through you faster than you could process, but you couldn't let it overwhelm you. You needed to keep your head, because if you slipped now, it might be the difference between life and death. If you weren't careful, you might never see Logan again.

"Wake me up," you snapped, advancing on her. "You're a telepath, right, so get me the fuck out of here."

"Are you sure you're ready for that? You might not be prepared for what's going to happen," Emma warned.

"I just want out," you hissed, feeling that creeping sense of anxiety pushing in at the edges. You felt restless and wired and all you wanted to do was bring the fight to Nathaniel. "Let me out," you pleaded, hating how your voice went weak and broken on the last word.

Emma studied you for a moment before she stood up. "Be careful what you wish for," she warned before reaching a hand out and placing it on your shoulder.

There was a moment when you felt like you were falling. Darkness enveloped you and there was a rush as Emma forced you out of Nathaniel's illusion. Your senses came back to you one by one, leaving you to try to piece together what was happening to you.

You heard a steady beeping noise and felt like something was weighing you down. You heard someone muttering to themselves and felt the chill of the room. You could smell something vaguely metallic, and a bitter taste coated your tongue. You could feel a freezing sensation sweeping through your veins as well as the stiff sheets that covered a cot you were lying on. None of it was comforting and you wanted nothing more than to see for yourself what was going on.

After what felt like minutes that had dragged into hours, you finally forced yourself to open your eyes. There was a light shining in your eyes and your vision when shockingly white for a second. Pain spiked through your head, but you forced yourself to focus, glancing away from the light to the side.

There was a man standing there. He was facing a machine, focused on a readout. You instinctively knew that it was Nathaniel, but he looked different. His skin held a greyish tint to it and from the reflection of the screen he was looking at, you could see his eyes were red.

"I should have known better than to trust someone who I pulled from the depths of The Hellfire Club," Nathaniel mused, meeting your eyes through the reflection. "Although, I supposed her diamond mutation is the only thing that will save her now. It's really quite intriguing."

You felt a shiver run through you and you attempted to sit up, but it was then you realized you were strapped down to a bed. There was an IV set up, the needle nestled in the crook of your arm. Panic flooded your mind, and you struggled uselessly against the restraints across your chest, stomach, and thighs.

Nathaniel turned to look at you, a pleased smirk on his face. "I'm not going to hurt you," he claimed, as he took a step towards the bed. It was then you caught sight of the red glowing diamond on his forehead and you didn't know why that set you off. Nathaniel had seemed normal, but seeing him as Mister Sinister finally convinced you that you were in the presence of someone truly evil. "Not when I invested so much in you." He grabbed the back of a chair that was close by and settled it near the head of the bed. He sat down in it, uncomfortably close to your face, and reached out to brush a hand over your forehead, wiping away the cold sweat that had broken out.

"Why," you managed to get out, even though you were shaking. "Why did you take me?"

Nathaniel sat back, giving you a moment to breathe without his intense focus bearing right down on you. "I was going to kill you," he admitted with a fond smile. "You took out my Marauder. My Riptide. No one had ever done that before. He's unique, you see, and I was upset. While I was blinded by rage, my Gambit saw something in you. He's quite the thief, you know. He found the TVA's records on you. I'm still not sure how he got in and out without them noticing, but he's a clever one."

"Remy," you whispered, thinking of the friend you once had in the Void. But this wasn't your Remy and you didn't know what to think about the fact that he had inadvertently saved you and signed you up for Nathaniel's mindfuck of a plan. Your Remy had been bold and chaotic, but he had never been cruel. He never would have worked for Sinister. "Why is he working for you?"

"He needed something from me," Nathaniel answered, reaching out to trace an 'x' with his finger over your forehead. "He was terrified of his own power and thought I could help him control it by removing a piece of his brain. In return, I made him work for me. He's been working with my other Marauders to draw you out for weeks with attacks around the city. I knew I needed you alone, so I bided my time."

You licked your lips, suddenly so aware of how dry your mouth was that you couldn't stand it. "What did he find at the TVA?" You knew you should be trying to get away, but you wanted answers. You also had the feeling that as long as Nathaniel was right there at your side, you wouldn't be going anywhere. You might as well take advantage of the situation while you could and hold on to the hope that Logan would show up soon.

"Did you know that your universe lost its anchor being? Scott Summers," he answered without you even having to ask. There was an affectionate, warm look that flashed across his face before it was gone. "He's another mutant I've always found quite fascinating. Have you heard of him? Of course you have. You were on the X-Men together," Nathaniel continued with a sly grin, confirming he knew more about you than you wanted him to.

Your mind was racing at the implications that Scott had been the one keeping your universe together. Losing Scott had surely set your life spinning off in a crazy direction, but the fact that your universe couldn't survive without him? You weren't sure whether to laugh or cry at the thought.

"Your universe maybe had several hundred years before it died out, but the TVA knew about your potential. They pruned you and dropped you into the Void to give you time to get over your heartache. You were so broken up over losing the Wolverine that you became a shell of yourself, and they couldn't have that. They needed you strong and ready for a fight." Nathaniel's fingers swept down from your forehead before brushing over your eyes and then nose. He continued down until he could press them just under your jaw, checking your pulse.

"Then what happened?" You asked just to keep him talking. You didn't like the way he was considering you now, measuring and fixed right on you.

"I'm sure you can guess," he prompted with a sharp grin, showing his teeth. "They planned on approaching you after a few years once you had the time to properly hone your abilities and ask you to work for them. But then Wade Wilson and Logan Howlett saved every universe from being ripped apart by Cassandra Nova and made you one of their little consolation prizes. They still wanted you, but Nathan Summers intervened on your behalf."

There was another brief fond look on his face at the mention of Cable and you wondered why he was so outright obsessed with the Summers family. It was as if he thought they were his playthings that had managed to impress him.

"So," he continued, finally pulling his hand away from your throat, "the TVA dropped their plans for you. I, however, plan on doing no such thing. What they were willing to wait years for, I achieved within a day. Because I knew all I had to do was get you all to myself and make you see things my way. Once I knew about you, I couldn't let you go. I theorized that your powers, if left to mature, would become incredibly destructive. You could level whole cities. You could trap people and make them suffer in such beautiful ways. And you could do it all without taking any damage to yourself. You're perfect," he turned a warm smile on you that felt entirely wrong. His hand drifted down towards the needle still stuck in your arm. He tapped it twice, smirking at your wince, before ripping it out. "And I wanted you all to myself. I could have wiped your mind and erased Logan from it, but I didn't want to do that."

A small part of you thought maybe this would all have been easier on you if he had done that. But then you thought about Logan, who hadn't actually abandoned you at all. None of your grief had been real, because it had been entirely fabricated by the man sitting at your bedside.

"It was like I told you, I had to break you to remake you. So, I broke you," he leaned down so his face was hovering just over yours. "And you made it so easy for me," he drawled with a wicked grin.

You felt a rush of anger and strained against the straps keeping you tethered. A disappointed expression flickered across his face and he shook his head.

"Your self-esteem issues are truly impressive, do you know that? Even now, after all the work I've done, you still doubt yourself," he hissed, reaching out to cup your cheek in his hand and forcing you to look fully at him. "I've crafted some truly wonderful mutants in my time. Scott Summers, Nathan Summers, the Maximoff twins. They have all yielded some of the best results, myself not included, but it's been quite some time since I've dealt with such raw, organic potential. I barely had to do anything. It was all locked up inside, hidden beneath layers of your own mental blocks. I just had to power through them and get you to see what you’re capable of doing."

You heard a low rumble before the lights flickered. It felt like the building shook for a brief moment and then stilled. It was then you could hear people shouting and screaming before it was followed by another explosion.

Nathaniel let out an amused chuckle, as if he wasn't concerned about what was happening just outside the lab.

"Enjoy my gifts," he added before he stood, backing away from you. “I expect to see you using them.” He turned to face the doors just as someone rushed inside.

"They're here for her," he growled, nodding towards you.

You were shocked to see Sabretooth and you wondered how it would affect Logan to see his brother again.

"Of course they are," Nathaniel sighed before following Victor. "Then let's go welcome our visitors."

You panicked at the thought that Nathaniel would be going anywhere near Logan. His goal had been to separate you from Logan so he could swoop in and fill the void in your life. What if he actually wanted to kill Logan? There was no doubt in your mind that he would find a way to kill him if it meant he could get you under his control. The illusion had shattered, leaving Nathaniel with no other choice but to rip Logan away from you for good.

You could feel fear and rage mesh within you and all you wanted to do was get rid of the damn restraints. You pushed and pulled and finally when you had enough, you brought up a forcefield. It was pressed in so close to you that you felt nearly crushed by it, but then you shoved it outwards, recalling the feeling of using it in the reality Sinister had constructed for you.

It worked, sloppy and off center, but you still got the result you wanted. The floor beneath the bed was cracked, but the straps had given way, and you were free.

You could hear the fight, but you couldn't see it. You decided to rectify that, attempting another repulsion field and aiming it towards the wall that separated you from the others. This one was better, although you figured if your target was a wall, then it wasn't that much of a struggle. You used the forcefield and pushed out, sending out a concussive blast that put a crack in the wall. You watched as the crack grew and split, branching off in multiple directions before the wall began to crumble, taking part of the roof with it.

The next room was total chaos.

The first person you noticed was Remy. He was flinging card after card, hitting targets and making them explode. He had his staff in one hand, using it to deflect and push, slamming it into people before making them ignite. After that it was Emma, drifting around the room in her diamond form, and using it best to her advantage. You noticed how she slipped in and out of it, before using her telepathic abilities to freeze people, paralyzing them. Then it was Piotr and a blonde man you didn't recognize. Piotr was knocking out people while the man used plasma blasts that traveled along the length of his arms before he directed them at Sinister's followers.

Laura was kneeling on someone, using her claws to slash and gouge a man's neck and chest. She was visibly enraged as she stood, flicking blood from her hands as the man beneath her succumbed to his injuries. She moved on to the next one, single-mindedly focused on making them suffer the same fate.

Wade was practically dancing around the room, spinning his katanas at a speed you could barely keep up with as he sliced through one person's midsection before sticking the other through someone's neck.

Finally, your gaze landed on Logan. His lips were pulled back in a snarl, his teeth bared as he fought through the room. He dug his claws into someone's back and ripped them out, blood spraying all over his front and face. Then he was on to the next person, cutting easily through their sides and picking them up on his claws, forcing them deeper. He seemed to realize Victor was part of the fight, because he only grew more frenzied as he threw himself at him, sinking his claws into Victor’s neck.

He was beautiful in his ferocity. Knowing that it was all for you left you breathless in a way you didn't know how to overcome. You had spent what you thought were weeks without Logan when it had only been a day. Logan had never left you. Logan was here, killing mercilessly all to save you.

They were all here to save you. You couldn't reconcile that thought with the thoughts that had clouded your mind once Nathaniel got his hands on you. But here they were, your family with a couple additions from the X-Men, rescuing you.

Sinister's henchmen were falling left and right, but you had lost sight of him. You knew the others could take care of his followers, but you wanted to find Nathaniel for yourself.

You wanted to be the one to kill him.

You let yourself go invisible, seeking him out. It wouldn't be over until he was well and truly dead. Someone knocked into you, and you instinctively turned, forming a forcefield around your fist and bringing it crashing right into the person's jaw. You felt the bone break beneath the force of your hit and the person clutched their jaw, howling in pain. Another hit and they were on the floor, their nose crushed and bleeding freely.

You turned and found Sinister near the blonde man, a taunting grin on his face as he spoke to the stranger. You made your way through the room towards them, forming spikes along the forcefield surrounding your fist and driving them up into someone's chest. You kept going, punching through bone and muscle until you could feel your forcefield break through to the other side. You wrenched your arm free, leaving the person to drop to the floor, lifeless.

You aimed a repulsion field at one person, watching as they got torn in half by it. You then formed a forcefield around another, inverting it so that the spikes were on the inside and the person was simultaneously punctured by hundreds of pinprick spikes.

You kept moving through the room, dodging and striking and shielding and pushing when needed. You only had eyes for Nathaniel, thinking that once he was gone, there would be no more threats to you or Logan or anyone else you loved.

There were only three more people between you and Sinister when you saw the blonde stranger let out a plasma blast from the middle of his chest. It was wild and less controlled than the ones that had come from his fists, but it seemed more personal. He advanced on Nathaniel, not letting up even for a moment, until Nathaniel was on the ground and still.

You were terrified for a moment that you had lost your chance, and you used a forcefield to shove the blonde back. He shot you a confused look, his arm coming up to aim a blast your way, but Wade swooped in, shielding you.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, Havoc, she's the baby bird we're trying to get back to the nest. Don't hurt her." Wade turned to look at you and even with the mask on, you could see the relief on his face. "It is so fucking good to see you," he said as he approached you. You let him pull you into a hug and you figured he was just about one of the only people you would let touch you at the moment. The other two were across the room, taking care of the last of Sinister's team.

After a moment, you stepped away from Wade's embrace and kept walking towards your target. He was still on the floor, plasma burns marring his skin. You could see where his regenerative ability must have been trying to kick in, tissue attempting to connect again, but it wasn't working.

He locked eyes with you and you knelt at his side. You weren't sure why, but you reached out to grab his hand. He was real, solid, and there was no way he was getting up off the floor. Not if you had anything to do with it.

He laughed, the sound choked for a moment, as he offered you a bloodied grin.

"You were always meant to be special," he croaked, briefly squeezing your hand. You had a brief moment, thinking back to the world he created for you. Nathaniel comforting you and manipulating you and leaving breadcrumbs down a dark path for you to follow. "It won't be the last time you see me, Y/N. I'll always be with you," he promised, tapping a finger against the back of your hand.

You were aware of the others coming towards you. The blonde stranger in the X-Men uniform was watching the pair of you, but he wasn't intervening. The others seemed to know that whatever you were doing was important, even though you could practically feel the weight of Logan's stare on you.

There was a red light that had been flashing through the room and a siren that was droning on in the background. You didn't feel like you were in danger, though. There was something brewing deep within you, and it felt powerful. You felt indestructible as you clutched Nathaniel's hand with the knowledge that you were about to end it all for him.

In the background, a robotic voice came over the speakers. "Warning, status critical. Omega level threat detected. Retreat is advised." The message repeated over and over and you finally tore your gaze away from Nathaniel to consider the others in the room. They were all still, watching you, waiting for whatever it was you were about to do.

Nathaniel laughed again and began to dig his nails into the back of your hand. "I made you more," he whispered, staring up at you in something akin to awe. It was proprietary and possessive and proud.

The realization hit you and you nearly let go of his hand. You were the omega level threat. Once you freed yourself from your restraints, you realized Nathaniel’s deceit had been good for something, because you had felt powerful, indomitable, but omega level? You had never dared to dream of reaching that peak with your powers. The fact that you only had Nathaniel to thank for that left a sour taste in your mouth that had you craving his destruction even more.

"I made you mine," Nathaniel breathed with a pleased smirk.

You could feel rage descend and sweep aside any rational thoughts you had.

"I was never yours and now you're nothing," you hissed as you formed a forcefield around your free hand. It fit like a glove and you let the arcs of the field molded around your fingertips stretch out into spikes. You pressed it gently against his forehead, gifting him with a devious grin. "But really, thank you for the gifts," you sneered before you pushed. A scream built in your chest and escaped through your throat as you pressed in with your forcefield, tearing right through Nathaniel's skull to his brain. You closed your fingers into a fist before letting the forcefield expand, traveling through Nathaniel's body. You let it fill him out, occupying the space just beneath his skin, before you let it shatter, taking Nathaniel's insides with it.

You were coated in blood and viscera, but you didn't care. After everything, spending weeks in a hell of Nathaniel's making, he was dead by the powers he had so carefully helped you hone.

"Shit, girl," you heard Wade saying. "You've been holding out on us?"

You turned to look up at Wade, blinking at him, dazed.

Nathaniel was dead, but the feeling inside you didn't abate. You felt grief, anger, pain, confusion, betrayal, and a host of other emotions that had red still streaked across your vision.

You needed to direct it at something else, anything else, and while most of Nathaniel's followers had fallen, there was still someone else in the room. You got to your feet, dodging Logan's outstretched hand, focused on your new target. Remy had fled, likely sensing you wouldn't be happy to see him this time, but Emma had stayed.

She caught the look on your face and immediately shifted into her diamond form. You laughed as you reached out, forming a forcefield around her head.

"I've got an experiment for you," you started, letting it get smaller and smaller, tightening it around her neck like a noose. All you could think was that she had helped Nathaniel nearly destroy you. She had tried to take everything from you. "Which is going to happen first? Will the diamond finally crack, or will you run out of air? Let's find out."

You saw Emma's eyes go wide in panic, her hands coming up to uselessly claw at the forcefield.

Someone grabbed your shoulders and forced you to turn towards them. You were ready to strike out, but you stopped at the sight of Logan standing there.

He looked so lost, afraid, and you were worried for a moment that he was scared of you. The thought caused you to drop the forcefield around Emma, aware that she was leaving the room now that your attention was off her.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, feeling a swell of emotions you couldn't bring yourself to embrace. Tears welled in your eyes and you finally let yourself fall into Logan's arms.

"It's okay," Logan murmured, letting you rest your head on his shoulder. "I've got you. I have you, sweetheart. It's okay now." He kept up the reassurances as you cried, sobs leaving you faster than you could try to contain them. Logan's arms tightened around you and for one moment it felt like it was just the two of you.

You were fighting every thought that Nathaniel had poured into your brain. Logan had never left you, but you still felt like you had been abandoned. Laura had never turned her back on you, but you still felt like she didn't want you anymore. Wade had never chosen Logan over you, but you still felt like you had been betrayed.

You were a mess and you didn't know how to make the warring thoughts in your head go away.

"Shh," Logan soothed. You could feel him trembling, likely holding himself back. "I've got you, Y/N. He's never going to touch you again. No one is every going to lay one fucking finger on you ever again. Not as long as I'm around."

It was everything you wanted to hear, but there was still a sick twist in your gut that told you it wasn't over. You were literally standing in the remnants of Nathaniel's body, but you felt like he was still in your head. You didn't know how to shake off the feelings he had instilled in you while trapped in his illusion, but you wanted to believe. You so desperately needed to know that Logan was sincere.

You pulled back enough to meet Logan's eyes. Unshed tears were caught in them and they were filled with hope, longing, relief, and fear. You knew Logan hadn't rested since you were taken and you wanted nothing more than to go home and crawl into bed with him.

But you were terrified. What if you went home and you woke up to yet another fake world?

So, no matter how much you truly wanted to go home, you needed something else more.

"Charles," you rasped, watching Logan's expression fall. "Take me to Charles."

Logan looked like he wanted to argue. "Don't you--" he started before he was cut off by you shaking your head.

"Please," you begged, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt and attempting to reel him in closer. "Logan, please, I need to talk to him."

"Let's get you to Charles, then," Logan agreed, his voice gruff as he pulled you in tighter. He placed a kiss to your temple before reluctantly letting you go.

The next couple of hours were a bit of a blur. Piotr was flying the X-Jet back while you sat with Logan pressed close to your side. He had his arm around your shoulders and you knew that it would be a while before he would let you out of his grasp. Feeling Logan against your side, warm and protective, went a long way towards convincing you that you were finally safe.

The blonde stranger turned out to be Alex Summers. You realized that was why Nathaniel had sought him out even when his lackies were being killed all around him. He had an obsession with the Summers family and he couldn't help but pursue it.

"Yeah," Wade started once the introduction had been made. He clapped a hand to Alex's shoulder, ignoring Alex’s eye roll. "We wanted the other brother, but he was busy saving starving orphans from a well or whatever."

Alex shrugged off Wade's hand and shot him an irritated glare. "You're an idiot."

"Don't I know it," Wade sighed before turning back to look at you. He dropped into the seat across from yours and reached out to pat you on the knee.

You nearly flinched away, but checked the reaction in time. From the way Wade quickly drew his hand back, you knew you weren't entirely successful.

"God, what I'd give to run that jackass through with my blades," Wade muttered, carefully watching you.

You didn't like feeling so fragile, but you knew that it would take you a while to heal from what Nathaniel had done to you.

"He's dead," you replied, knowing that it was mostly just to reassure yourself.

Even if you weren't quite convinced, you still had to try to fool yourself into believing it was true.

Once you got to the X-Mansion, Charles was waiting in the foyer. He offered you a warm smile before cocking his head to the side, silently requesting you follow him.

Wade and Laura stayed behind in the foyer with Piotr while Alex stalked off, grumbling something about getting some sleep. Laura let you go with a hug and Wade placed a kiss on your cheek, the fabric of his mask soft against your skin. Piotr simply gave you a solemn nod of his head.

"I'm glad you are safe, friend," he told you before Wade called him an 'ol' softie,' leaving you to follow Charles down the hallway leading off the foyer.

Logan trailed after you, leaving enough space between the two of you so you wouldn't feel crowded.

Charles stopped at a door before pushing it open, gesturing for you to walk inside. You realized once you got into the room that it was Charles' office. You opted to take one of the chairs in front of his desk while Logan stayed near the door. You glanced over your shoulder to see he was leaning up against the wall beside the door, his arms crossed and expression guarded.

You assumed Charles would take the spot behind his desk, but he came to a stop at your side. He turned his chair to face you and you gifted him with the same courtesy, meeting his stare.

Silence fell between the pair of you and you tried to figure out what you wanted to say. Finally, you settled on, "Thank you."

Charles dipped his head in a nod. "I'm glad Emma was there to give us your location. I'm afraid I wasn't able to find you with your forcefield up. They're quite unique," he mused.

You felt just the slightest bit of guilt for the way you had turned on Emma once Sinister was dead, but you couldn't go back to change your actions.

"Piotr mentioned that you wanted to talk to me," Charles prompted with a curious quirk of his brow.

"I know he's dead," you forced yourself to say. "Alex and I killed him, but I still feel like he's in my head. What if he left something behind? What if he's still in there waiting to strike again?"

Charles considered you for a moment before he reached out. "May I?"

You shot Charles' hand a wary look. You would rather let Piotr hit you full force than allow another telepath in your head, but you needed to know. You finally leaned forward, crossing the distance between your head and Charles' outreached hand.

There was a rush before Charles carefully started picking through memories. Between Nathaniel and Emma, you felt mentally frail, but Charles was being delicate.

"Oh, my dear," he whispered, dismayed at whatever he found. "You've been through quite an ordeal, haven't you?"

You didn't have to answer, because you knew your secrets and the darkness that had invaded your mind were all in full view for Charles to peruse. You were ashamed and humiliated and terrified that Nathaniel had tipped you over the edge and now you were falling, heading straight for rock bottom.

"I can assure you that Sinister no longer has any hold over your mind," Charles continued, still combing through your memories and thoughts. "If you like, I can try to suppress the memories," he offered, his voice calm in your head.

You wished more than anything that you could allow Charles to soothe the balm, but you were worried about letting anyone tamper with your memories. Even though Charles had the best of intentions, you wanted to know that everything in your mind was undeniably yours.

"If you change your mind or need me to take another look, all you have to do is ask," Charles said, carefully extracting himself from your mind.

"Thank you," you managed before standing. You turned to see Logan still watching you, a tiny spark of warmth taking root in you. "Let's go home," you told him, watching as a relieved smile crossed his face.

"Let's go home," he agreed, reaching out towards you as you got closer.

The following weeks were spent trying to convince yourself that you weren't still trapped in Nathaniel's manipulation. You didn't know how to rid yourself of the doubt, so you did your best to counteract that with the proof you needed to show you that your loved ones would never leave you.

You started by talking to Wade.

Logan and Laura had left to run errands, and right as they were out the door, Wade showed up on the doorstep. You knew they practically had a rotation going to make sure you weren't alone at any given time.

"Fancy seeing you here," he said as he stepped into the living room. "Ooh, are those cookies?" He reached out to grab one of the cookies Laura was addicted to.

So much had been on your mind that you weren't even sure where to start. You were staring at Wade, attempting to figure out what to ask first, when he stopped mid-bite to look at you.

"What's going on, baby bird?" He let himself drop down into a seat at the kitchen table before he snagged another cookie. "This shit is good," he moaned, stuffing one into his mouth whole.

"Wade," you started, sitting down in the chair across from him. "If Logan were to ever leave me, would you let me stay with you?"

Wade suddenly stopped chewing before setting down the third cookie he had swiped. "Did Logan say he was leaving you?" His voice was low and dangerous, cautious enough for you to know he was trying to grasp the situation while forming his plan of attack.

"No," you told him, hoping you were right. "But what if he did?"

"Good," Wade snorted before picking up his pilfered cookie again. "I'd chop his off his balls and serve them to him sunny side up if he ever did," he promised, tone serious.

"And I could stay with you?" You checked, wanting to assuage that fear.

Wade shrugged his shoulders. "I'm always up for a sleepover, sure," he agreed. "You'd have to share a bed with Blind Al, but I promise she won't bite. Well, maybe just once or twice," he amended with a thoughtful grimace. “Or, I could put some couch cushions on the floor and tell her that’s the bed, so we could share,” he added, gesturing between the two of you. “And then we could cuddle and tell each other all our secrets and it’ll be a fun little sleepover every night. Fuck, you should totally dump Logan so we can do that.”

You felt a surprised laugh bubble out of you, and it felt so fucking good. Trust Wade to bring you the levity you so desperately craved. “God, you’re an asshole,” you sighed, loving him all the more for it. You watched him eat another cookie, knowing Laura was going to be pissed when she got back and realized they were gone. "And what if you were mending things with Vanessa and didn't want another roommate? What then?"

Wade was silent for long enough that you started to worry.

"If I were to get Vanessa back," he started, voice uncharacteristically small yet hopeful, "then she knows what she's getting with me. And that includes you," Wade added, shooting you a wink. "We're a package deal now, baby bird, and Papa Deadpool would never leave you."

You didn't respond, instead choosing to push the box of cookies in Wade's direction, silently urging him to take more.

Next, you decided to talk to Laura.

She had been quiet around you, studying you from afar. Logan had told you she blamed herself for not being there to keep Gambit from taking you. You didn't want Laura to feel guilty, so you sent Logan out to get dinner and took your chance to talk to her without anyone else around.

"Gambit would have gotten me sooner or later," was what you said instead of any sort of platitude. "Nathaniel, Sinister," you corrected yourself, "wasn't going to stop. So, if it came down to me being taken or me being taken and you getting hurt, then I know which scenario I prefer. I'm glad you weren't with me," you told her, "because if anything had happened to you, I wouldn't have made it. I need you safe more than anything else."

Laura didn't say anything for a while. She kept absentmindedly running her nails over the fabric covering the couch, digging in until she caused a small rip. "I spent a really long time without a family," she finally got out. "And just when I thought I had someone, he died protecting me. I never thought I would have anyone who actually made me feel like I belonged somewhere, but then you found me. I was lost in the Void for a while and Cassandra's guys were bearing down on me, but then you showed up with Johnny." There was a fond little smile on her face, but she still hadn't looked at you since she started talking.

"You took me back to the hideout and you treated me as if I had been there with you all along. You looked out for me and protected me and loved me. And you still do all those things. Now, I have you and I have Logan and you've both given me a home. A family. And then you were gone and we didn't know if we would ever find you again. I was so scared," she whispered, finally meeting your gaze. "I can't lose you too."

You knew then that you had been stupid to believe, even under Nathaniel's influence, that Laura would ever pick someone else over you. You felt a smile break out on your face before reaching out to pull her into a hug.

"You won't lose me," you promised, reaching up to flick her ear.

Laura huffed out an amused little laugh that sounded suspiciously close to a relieved sob.

You had never found it hard to be vulnerable around Logan, but you were half-terrified at the thought of trying to broach the subject of his wife. It was your deepest fear and Nathaniel had exploited it perfectly. You had nearly lost yourself just at the thought of losing Logan. What if there really was someone out there, even if it wasn't his wife, who would make him leave you?

You were lying in bed, tucked close in to his side. Your head was resting on his chest and you were trailing your fingers up and down his stomach, trying to work up the courage to ask what was on your mind. You had already told Logan what happened to you while Nathaniel held you captive, but he didn't know just how much it had affected you.

"When Wade told me he could get the TVA to fix my universe, I wanted nothing more than to return there and have them all back again," Logan's voice was a low rumble in his chest, nearly soothing despite the way anxiety shot through you at his words. "And then it turned out that there was no fixing it. I am who I am because of those mistakes and those losses. I wouldn't be here without them."

You pressed a kiss to his chest, letting him know you were listening, but not willing to contribute just yet. Logan had an uncanny ability to know exactly what was on your mind, so you didn’t question why he chose the topic.

Logan's hand came up to press between your shoulder blades. He swept his hand down to the small of your back, urging you to press closer to him.

"You're nothing like her, you know." Logan was quick to press a kiss to the crown of your head when he felt you tense up. "You like different movies and songs and books. You love the rain and she was scared of thunderstorms. She would have hated Wade, but you've practically adopted him. I told you in the Void that I knew you weren't her and I've known that every second since. I love you," he admitted, his voice soft and nearly pleading. "I love you knowing that you aren't her, because I don't want to dwell on the past anymore. There's no changing the past and there's no bringing her back, but even if it was possible, I would still want my future with you. I will always want you."

You had carefully kept your gaze directed at Logan's shirt, but you finally lifted your head to lock eyes with him.

"I want my future with you too," you told him, aware that you had to let him know you were on the same level. Logan was used to fighting for what was his, but you knew that letting anyone see this side of him was special. He trusted you and you knew without a doubt that he loved you. It would be hard to erase the damage Nathaniel had done, but you knew that Logan, Laura, and Wade would all gladly take on the task of helping you heal.

"I'm not going to lose you again," Logan swore, his hand dipping beneath the hem of your shirt to press to the skin at the base of your spine. "And you're not going to lose me. We'll fight for you every day if we have to."

Your throat felt tight and your eyes stung, but you managed to rise until you could kiss Logan. It was a promise from you to him that spoke of every ounce of the love you had for him.

"And I'll fight for you," you spoke into the kiss, feeling the way Logan smiled against your lips.

It was easy, then, to lose yourself to Logan. Every touch was a vow to continue forward together and every kiss was sealing the deal set forth between you. You were no longer alone and now you would never have to be.

You had a team. A family.

And most importantly, you had Logan.

Author's Notes: Is Sinister dead? Was it a clone? We may never know. There is a part 5 and part 6 being planned out! I'm going to grant a request that a lot of people had for this series regarding bringing back two certain characters, so I really want to deliver on that. I'm also going to bring in another villain and other characters. So, if you liked this or you're interested in more, please let me know! I literally wrote 15.6k in the past week just fueled by y'all's support and it really does help me so much. I can't thank y'all enough. I haven't been this inspired in a really long time. 💖 (also my coworker called me baby bird the other day and I had a moment of blind panic where I was worried she somehow found this fic, because she knows I've written reader fic before.)

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killthewhisperingart · 5 months

Text

Meet Me After Class

Pairing: Gym Teacher!Dean Winchester x History Teacher!Reader

Word Count: 790

Summary: Of course he's decided to bother you while you're grading papers.

Warning(s): Smut. Smut. Sex.

A/N: One of my friends challenged me to do this, so I finished this in one night. :3

I am an 18+ Blog.

You groan softly as you shake your head, marking another answer wrong on a students paper. You didn't understand, you had pushed the test back by a week to better help your students prepare, yet they didn't utilize any of the extra time correctly. You know for a fact that this student probably didn't know what class this was.

You knew once you passed these exams back, and your students saw their grades, you'd be their worst enemy.

You rub your hand down your face, popping your wrists before stretching backwards. Your back pops in a few places before you melt, dropping your arms and preparing yourself to get back to grading. A glance to the clock on the wall tells you that you've been in your classroom for an hour and a half since the final bell rang.

A knock at your classroom door startles you, a stray mark now on the essay question in bright red ink. You scoff, capping the pen before pushing out your chair, walking towards the door, your lanyard jingling with every movement.

Dean smiles, holding a bag of takeout. You look at it, before slowly dragging your gaze to his face, your hand on the door still.

"What's this?" You ask, your brows furrowed.

"Food." He says simply, stepping into the classroom. He's no longer in his usual Gym attire, having changed into his usual jeans and T-shirt, though the whistle still lingers around his neck. You think he probably went home, got food, and came back to work. "You know Food, right? You eat it." He teases.

You can't hold back your groan, rolling your eyes before going to your desk. He pushes the door closed behind him as he enters the room, jiggling the handle to confirm it's locked. You crash into your chair, and it rolls backwards. You take your lanyard off, tossing it onto the desk as you pick your legs up to set your feet on your desk, careful to not step on the papers.

"Thought we weren't supposed to put our feet on the furniture?" He taps your foot as he sits on your desk.

"We're not supposed to put our asses on tables either, but I'm not getting onto you about it right now." You snap halfheartedly, hand out as he puts a burger wrapped in tin foil onto your palm. Still warm.

He wastes no time in devouring his own burger, grease running down his fingers, no regard for the sauce on the corner of his mouth. You scoff out a chuckle, opening your own meal.

You both eat in silence, well, at least you do. He can't seem to stop himself from making obscene noises for his burger.

"You're always working," He finally comments, tossing the wrapper in the trash, wiping his face.

"Well, I actually have to *work* at my job, so." You grin sarcastically, tossing your trash at his face. He takes it in stride, catching it and tossing it into the trash.

"I work!" He defends himself.

"No you don't!" You guffaw. "You get paid to make students stay in shape, but you don't do the same."

"I work out regularly!" He points out. "My stamina is amazing."

"As if."

The desk is hard against your chest, your hands gripping the sides hard. The wood furniture scrapes against the floor harshly with every rough thrust from behind you. His jeans rub the skin on the back of your thighs as he fucks into you.

"What was that?" He asks, a cocky grin on his face as he positions his head next to yours. "What'd you say about my stamina?"

"Shut up-" You choke out, whining as you scrape your nails against the wood.

"I can't hear you." He teases, biting your ear lobe, tugging roughly. You almost squeal, but you clamp a hand over your mouth, knowing you couldn't possibly be the only two people left in the school.

He's so damn talkative, never knowing how to shut the fuck up and just fuck you.

You push yourself up, turning your torso to grab the whistle around his neck. His eyes widen as you jerk it forward to connect your lips to his. He eagerly returns your kiss, kissing you just as sloppily as he eats his food.

His thrusts turn sloppy, his chest stuttering with every shaky breath. His saliva drools into your open mouth, and eagerly you swallow.

His grip tightens on your hips, body shuddering one last time with three final deep thrusts. He stays seated within you, collecting himself, the whistle jingling as you let go.

"Fuck-" You mutter, kissing him one last time. "Maybe your stamina is fine."

"Just fine?"

"We'll have to test this again."

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #x reader #x reader smut #reader insert smut #reader insert #gender neutral reader #supernatural x reader #spn x reader #teacher au #gym teacher dean winchester #dean winchester au #supernatural au #x reader au #smut

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bro-atz · 4 months

Text

if only it was simple [bro's 500 — hongjoong]

[enemies to lovers, smut, royal!au, hongjoong/afab!reader]

requested by: 🍀

in which: kim hongjoong is the bane of your existence, but you cannot seem to live without him.

word count: 2k

content: smut, bathroom sex, blowjob, facial, doggy, window sex, UNPROTECTED SEX (PLS WRAP UP IRL), consensual!

rated: R | nsfw — minors do not interact

author's note: @pocketjoong @nebulousbrainsoup pls don't kill me i have more things to finish writing hehe

Every time your parents hosted a royal ball for all the neighboring kingdoms, you resented them because you hated the balls they threw. You honestly hated being royalty because that was just not something you vibe with. No, you liked peace, quiet, and when a sense of calm washes over the castle while you read all the books in the royal library. So, a mass gathering of people was definitely not your cup of tea. Gosh, how you would prefer a cup of tea over the stupid blood red wine in your glass.

It wasn't just the noise, either. It was the people who brought the noise. You didn't know how on Earth other princesses could gossip for minutes, hours, days, freaking eons, but they did, and you hated it. And the princes were just as bad, but rather than gossips, they just spread vulgarities. You wanted to wash your mouth with soap just listening to what they would talk about.

Prince Hongjoong of the Kim Kingdom was the worst of them all. He gossiped with the princesses, he engaged in the vulgar talk with the princes, and he treated you like scum. How you loathed him. You loathed the way he talked, walked, acted— the entirety of his being made you feel like he was put on this world to torture you. And, of course, that torturous being just had to approach you the second you fell within his line of vision.

"Hello, princess," he greeted you with a very obviously sardonic, sickly sweet voice.

"Prince Hongjoong," you bit back as you maintained eye contact with him.

"Ooh, yeah, I did not like the way you said my name just now, princess. Why don't you try a nicer tone? It would suit you."

"Go jump up your own ass and die."

"So mean," Hongjoong sniffled and wiped away his crocodile tears. "You should really treat your guests better."

You didn't even bother responding to him. You quickly turned your head away and walked away from Hongjoong, knowing that the man would not follow. He knew better than that.

While you desperately wanted a distraction, there was quite literally no one you wanted to distract yourself with. Again, you seriously hated these stupid balls. Rather than talk to another royal, you called over one of the butlers and tried to give him the glass.

"No, princess, you mustn't waste," the butler scolded you.

"Please, I didn't even want this in the first place," you sighed heavily. "Can't you just give it to someone else?"

"I'm sorry, princess, but I cannot do that either. You will just have to finish it."

Swell. With a wave of your hand, you dismissed the butler and cradled the glass in your hands, your fingernails clinking against it as you tapped your fingers. Yes, you knew not to waste food or water, but wine was not water, and it wasn't like you could give it to some starving child because children were not supposed to drink wine. So, you needed to dispose of it in another way.

It was when you accidentally made eye contact with Hongjoong again and saw the smirk spread across his face did you find a solution to your little problem. To top that, he was flirting with another princess from another kingdom, flaring up your irritation even more. You glided towards him and very purposefully spilled the dark liquid all over his jacket, effectively ruining it.

"Oops," you said rather flatly.

"Really?" Hongjoong responded with a sigh of exasperation followed by a half-assed chuckle.

"You should get that cleaned up! Here, I'll do it for you," the princess Hongjoong was talking to inserted herself between the two of you, ending your slight glaring contest.

"No, princess. It wasn't your fault. It was Princess Y/N's, so I believe she should take accountability for her actions," Hongjoong shook his head. Then, turning to meet your glare with a cheek smile, he added, "Don't you agree, Y/N?"

Before long, you were in your personal bathroom. You found the supplies you needed to get the wine stain out of Hongjoong's jacket, and rather than take the jacket off, he kept it on. He sat on the edge of the basin and waited for you to begin correcting your mistake.

"Be honest with me, princess," Hongjoong whispered as you got to work. "Do you have a problem with a wine or with me?"

"Both," you immediately responded. "But the lesser of the two evils is definitely the wine."

"That stings."

"Tough."

Hongjoong let out a scoff. He leaned back and observed you working on his jacket, the warmth from the alcohol he drank that night started to consume his body— it was either the alcohol or lust actually. To figure out which it was, he tucked the hairs framing your face behind your ear before placing his fingers under your chin, making you look up at him. He didn't mean to look down as he wanted to observe your facial features, but considering you were bent over, he got an eyeful of your cleavage. It was definitely not alcohol, but lust. His fingers then moved from your chin to your hair, his fingers raking through before grabbing a fistful. He ran his tongue over his lower lip before biting his lower lip, his eyes darkening with every passing second.

"Down on your knees, princess," Hongjoong said in a very low voice.

"Absolutely not," you flat out refused.

"You better listen to me when I'm asking nicely."

"Asking nicely would include the words "please" or "may", and I've never heard either of those words leave your tongue," you nearly spat out. "Besides, you said we would never do this again—"

"I know what I said, and I don't care anymore. Knees."

With a slightly wistful sigh, you lowered yourself to your knees, Hongjoong's lap before your face. Your muscle memory activated, and you got to work on undoing Hongjoong's pants, your fingers pulling at the waistbands.

"I thought you didn't want to do this," Hongjoong snickered. "But you seem so eager right now."

"Shut up, Hongjoong," you breathed out before revealing his hard red cock, your mouth watering.

You completely took Hongjoong by surprise when you immediately took him into your mouth, your head going all the way down, the tip of his cock brushing the back of your throat. Hongjoong flung his head back and bit his lower lip to hold back his moans. His hold on your hair got tighter, and he guided your head back up, his hand moving you at the calm, steady pace that he wanted.

“Yes, just like that,” he hissed through grit teeth. “Keep going, princess.”

When Hongjoong shoved your head down all the way every so often to get you to gag, it made you resent him a little more, but you would be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t like the rough way he was treating you while you sucked his cock. You also kind of liked it when he praised you and massaged your head when he adjusted his grip of your hair, and when you heard his breathing hitch and his moans get higher in pitch, it filled you with excitement.

“Oh— I’m cumming!” Hongjoong groaned, his cock quivering uncontrollably in your mouth.

He pulled your head back and rubbed himself a couple times before decorating your face with white stripes. You licked your lips, the saltiness of his cum lingering on your tongue as you tasted him. While it was fun momentarily, you frowned at him and let out an exasperated sigh.

“Goddammit, Hongjoong, now I need to clean my face,” you grumbled as you stood up, your fingers already beginning to clear his cum from your face.

“Would you rather I have you swallow?” he asked cheekily.

“Honestly, yeah. It’s neater that way.”

You heard him let out a slight chuckle as you turned your back to him. You poured some water into the sink and bent over to begin washing your face, letting your guard down completely. You were so fixated on clearing the opaque off your skin that you didn’t even realize Hongjoong had approached you from behind and started undressing you from the skirt down.

“Hongjoong! What are you doing?!” you yelled at him as you tried to turn around and get him to stop.

“Princess, you can’t tell me that you don’t want this right now,” Hongjoong sighed as he forced you over the sink, his bare waist pressing against yours. “You’re so wet. It’s as if your cunt is begging for me.”

You couldn’t argue with that. Hongjoong’s moans earlier turned you on to an incredible extreme, and you were itching for relief. You pressed your lips together before admitting defeat and saying, “Then you better do a good job, or I will—”

“Don’t worry, princess,” Hongjoong interrupted. “I always do a good job. You know that.”

Spreading your ass cheeks, Hongjoong got a stellar view of your glistening cunt. He ran his tongue over his lower lip as his thumbs neared your folds and spread them, your gaping hole eagerly waiting for him to fill you up. He wasted no time in lining up his cock with your cunt and shoving into you, your entire body lurching forward with the impact. Your hands gripped the sides of the sink, your hold getting tighter as he began to move at a steady rhythm, the sounds of his waist slapping against yours echoing in the silence of the bathroom.

“Oh, princess,” the prince groaned blissfully. “You’re always so tight— you were made for me, weren’t you?”

You answered with a little yelp when he changed his angle and thrust upwards, his cock rubbing against your walls all the right ways. It felt so right, but truth be told, it wasn’t enough for you. Neither you nor him, apparently, as he grabbed your waist and pulled you upright. His cock left you for a split moment so he could turn you around to face him. He then led you to the sole window in your bathroom.

Bottles clattered to the ground as Hongjoong swept everything off the windowsill and hoisted you there. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he prepared to enter you, this tip of his cock teasing your clit. A whine emerged from the back of your throat as you gripped Hongjoong shoulder’s, the fabric from his jacket getting bunched up in your grasp.

“Don’t tease me,” you whimpered as you pulled him towards you.

Hongjoong let out a snort of amusement. Locking eyes with you, he did as you quite literally begged and stopped teasing you, his cock swiftly entering you and filling you up once more. You groaned in slightly relief before biting on your lower lip to keep all of your lewd noises to a minimum. However, Hongjoong didn’t like that. With his thumb, he pulled down on your lower lip, forcing you to let go.

“You know I like to hear you, princess,” Hongjoong murmured as his lips neared yours, his breath brushing past your lips.

“We can’t be too loud, though,” you replied through erratic breathing as Hongjoong’s thrusts sped up. “The ball is still going on.”

“What a shame,” he sighed.

So, to help you keep quiet, Hongjoong’s lips met yours, his tongue immediately slipping into your mouth and tangling with yours. You moaned into his mouth as he kissed you feverishly, his waist gyrating into yours with incredible speed and vigor. Your hands moved from his shoulders to the back of his neck, your fingers running through the hair on the back of his head.

“O-Oh, Joong!” you cried.

“Are you close, princess?” he asked, his breathing hitching as he felt himself nearing his climax.

“Mmhmm… Oh, God!”

You flung your head back as you felt pleasure wash over you, white filling your vision. You were blinking stars out of your eyes when Hongjoong guided your face back down, his lips meeting your again as he seemed to not be able to get enough of you.

“May I cum inside, princess?” he asked you breathlessly in between kisses.

“Please.”

Hongjoong moved away from you slightly so he could get a better hold of you as he thrust rapidly into you several times before releasing his load inside you. His groan of ecstasy echoed in your ears as he dropped his head to the nook of your neck, his hot breath hitting your collarbone.

“Was that good enough for you, princess?”

bro's 500 event | bro's 500 event masterlist

bro's 500 taglist: @eyeryis @sinnarols @nakiiko @hyukssunflower @aaa-sia

@k-hotchoisan @hwallazia

networks: @atzhouse @cromernet @cultofdionysusnet

@ksmutsociety @newworldnet @wonderlandnet

#ateez #ateez hongjoong #kim hongjoong #hongjoong smut #hongjoong x reader #kim hongjoong ateez #hongjoong ateez #broatz #bro's 500 event #Spotify #atzhouse #cromernet #cultofdionysusnet #newworldnet #ksmutsociety #wonderlandnet

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raayllum · 24 days

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Rayla's Super Selective Hearing, or What is Callum Actually Afraid of?

There's a running current throughout the series, but especially Arc 2 and S6 in particular, about recognizing fear in another individual and the importance of it as a sort of moral horizon line not to cross.

We see this time and time again being twisted/warped with the dark mage characters:

as well as others as a warning sign

which is contrasted most notably with Rayla in S1 as an explicit reason for mercy and recognizing personhood:

RUNAAN: You let him go! RAYLA: Runaan, I'm sorry. The human — he looked up at me and I saw the fear in his eyes. RUNAAN: Of course he was afraid, but you had a job to do! (1x01)

RAYLA: And then I just... let him go. I don't know why. EZRAN: Because you felt for him. RAYLA: But he was a human. My enemy. EZRAN: Yeah, but then you saw he was scared, and you knew he was a person, just like you. RAYLA: That shouldn't have mattered. I had a job to do. (1x08)

and in pleas of ignoring fear:

versus reassurance that it's okay, even if the two can overlap:

And fear, is, of course one of the most consistent feelings that Callum has towards Aaravos, and subsequently one of the threads built upon between Callum and Rayla.

Some of this, mind you, is because they're going to have to confront the "it doesn't matter that the human was afraid, you had a job to do and should've killed him" holdover whenever Callum gets possessed again, which is also part of the reason why Runaan turns and flees from Rayla's compassion and forgiveness in 6x09: he's afraid he doesn't deserve it, and that he "can't go back". He's worried that he's too far gone, and that he's a monster.

This also plays into Viren's realization and acceptance of what had happened with Lissa, who was terrified of him and said similarly that he had "become a monster" as previously noted (and eventually he was able to acknowledge that she was right).

This same fear of becoming monstrous one of the many fears we see plaguing Callum in S6: that not only will Aaravos control and/or manipulate him, not only did he do dark magic again, but that if it happens again or if Rayla finds out that she'll be scared of him, down to similar framing to boot.

Callum's fear doesn't come to fruition in 6x03, with Rayla being not scared of him, for scared for him. As she lists out reasons why he shouldn't do dark magic (without knowing why he did so), she cites:

Because it's dangerous. Because it hurts you. But most of all, because it makes you vulnerable to the thing you're most afraid of. [...] I just don't understand why you would keep doing it, knowing that it puts your life in terrible danger.

And Rayla has good reason to think that Aaravos is Callum's worst fear, given that Callum has emphasized his fear over Aaravos a few times to her:

So Callum is scared of Aaravos, as are most of the characters, but the possession gets to him specifically. Part of this is because the possession strips Callum of the quality he cares about the most: his agency ("You think [making a mistake because Aaravos took control of me] makes me feel better? That makes me feel worse" / "I felt so weak and out of control. I was his puppet"). This is also what he affirms to Ezran in 4x05 ("when he took over my whole body and used me like a puppet").

The other side is one that he spells out for us in 4x07, so let's go line by line now that S6 has provided more reaffirmation / context.

I'm not afraid that he'll hurt me.

This line, of course, shows Callum's selflessness and willingness to risk his life (1x02, 2x07, 3x01, 3x09, 5x08), in addition to his rationale for asking Rayla to kill him. If his destiny under Aaravos and the harm it brings it inevitable, his own life and safety would be a reasonable concern, but it's not. And we know this because it's Rayla's primary concern in the possession plotline, and one that's not good enough for him. "We're all in danger," he rebuts when she just talks about him; she questions why he would use dark magic again when "it puts your life in terrible danger". But just his own life being at risk isn't enough to get him to not do something — at least not when he has a good enough motivation ("You can risk your life to learn magic" vs jumping off the Pinnacle or trying to take Ezran's place).

I'm afraid that he'll use me

This line is the crux of Callum's dynamic with Aaravos on his end — the fear, the concern, the paranoia. In 4x07, it's a scary possibility; in 6x01, he treats it more like an imminent inevitability unless he can find a way to destroy the pearl: "As long as it's here or anywhere, it poses a threat, because Aaravos can manipulate people on the outside. Like he did with Lord Viren. And... me." We'll get to why I think this change of "he will" (still leaves some room for doubt) to "he is" (he is going to) has happened in the next couple of lines. We also see that Callum finding out that Aaravos has used him in switching the pearl in 6x06 was enough to break his spirit even without knowing anything that leaving the pearl back in Katolis was going to lead to, so the stakes of the action itself (losing agency/control) are high. It's scary to think he might've already "played into" Aaravos' hands per his 'destiny' even if we know (thanks to the pawn intro) that he hasn't and much more is in store.

But what is Callum scared about when it comes to Aaravos' hold on him? Especially since 6x01 trims both of these things out of the mix in terms of verbal dialogue.

to do awful things

This is the first thing Callum mentions, so it accordingly has weight. We see that Callum, like the bulk of the main cast but especially the core trio, wants to and tries to do the right thing ("The right thing, I hope") and it's something he admires in other people ("she does what's right even when it puts her own life in danger"). He doesn't want to cause unnecessary suffering and he doesn't want to hurt people, and unlike characters who also feel that way most of the time but don't follow through (hi Claudia, hi arc 1 Viren), he is usually accordingly tormented and guilty when he feels like he hasn't lived up to his own ideal (apologizing to Ez for his temper, doing dark magic, etc).

However, "awful things" is a little vague. It can't include hurting the people around him per say because that gets its own distinction, so what does 'awful things' refer to? Harrow refers to his choices with the Magma Titan and Avizandum and Zym as "terrible things"; Soren asserts the same about trying to kill the princes; and Terry most explicitly tells Claudia that "I've seen you do a lot of awful things, dark magic things". So the most distinct thing we can get there is 1) killing and/or sacrificing people and/or 2) dark magic in general.

This is, to me, part of why 5x08 is so difficult for Callum as an episode, because he's forced to do some terrible things. Finnegrin tries to make him pick which one of his loved ones is losing a hand; Callum is nearly coerced and then chooses to use dark magic; he gives a dangerous man an even more dangerous spell and the trade doesn't even amount to anything.

Because if it comes down to doing terrible things, Callum would prefer doing that in order to not

or hurt people I care about.

Callum clearly thinks that dark magic and doing dark magic is awful. We see this routinely expressed throughout the series, scaffolded by dark magic always being a last resort and nothing else for him thus far: "But is it really so wrong?" "Yes!" (2x08); "But in your eyes I see guilt. What have you done that's got you so twisted up inside?" (5x08); "I did it, I'm ruined, it's too late for me, who cares?" (6x03)

Ergo, on Finnegrin's ship, in his own eyes, he did something awful. This is because I think it's evident that being vulnerable to Aaravos isn't Callum's worst fear, as Rayla posits: it's losing her or Ezran.

Being vulnerable and possessed by Aaravos is scary to him because it might mean hurting them. Yes he doesn't want to do something awful, but we've seen in canon that he's willing to if the alternative is letting either of them die (much like how Rayla didn't want to emotionally hurt Callum, but it was a trade she was willing to make if it meant keeping him physically safe). We know he's not worried about Aaravos controlling him just for his own safety (points to previous sections).

The phrasing of the line itself is interesting, as you can read it two ways, of him being scared Aaravos will use him to hurt his loved ones, or scared that Aaravos (generally) will hurt his loved ones. Neither is an appealing prospect.

But as Finnegrin says:

All that talk about how love makes you stronger, but the second you see that elf girl in pain, you completely lost yourself.

Callum would rather do something awful (dark magic) and make himself vulnerable to Aaravos, his 'worst fear,' than lose Rayla (or Ezran), which is his Actual worst fear. This is, of course, just perfect Greek tragedy irony: Callum getting possessed in order to save Rayla, only to inadvertently put her in danger again under Aaravos' control. Nor is this exclusive to Callum — I imagine the worst fears for basically everyone in TDP would be the loss of the people they love, even over the loss of their own life, and this is something we see reflected time and time again with Harrow and Sarai, Gren and Amaya, Aaravos and Leola, Rayla and Callum, etc.

What is more exclusive to Callum is the sheer lengths he may be willing to go to in order to not lose them. As he says in 4x07, he's afraid Aaravos will use him because it could lead to doing awful things or hurting people he loves; in 6x01, his speech has changed because he has a better understanding of how/why Aaravos would be able to manipulate him, and because he knows he'll do things he considers awful to protect/save the people he loves.

After all, as previously noted, Callum is afraid of having no choice... and that's exactly what happened.

#tdp #the dragon prince #callum #tdp callum #rayllum #tdp meta #analysis series #fear motif #multi #arc 1 #arc 2 #morally ambiguous fam #6x03 #6x01 #4x07 #s4 #s6

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whump-and-other-misfortunes · 10 months

Text

Hero had noticed that Villain seemed a little distracted during their fight—not bantering as much as usual, fighting back halfheartedly. Still, they had expected Villain to dodge their attack in time. But when Hero sent out another blast of their ice powers, it hit Villain square in the chest, knocking them into the wall behind them.

Hero gasped as they watched Villain crumple to the ground, clutching at their chest. “Oh my god.”

Villain groaned, staring down at the ice spreading across the front of their suit. “Fuck. You got me good, huh?” they forced out. The laugh that followed was on the verge of hysterical.

“God, Villain, I’m so sorry,” Hero said, rushing to them. They knelt down in front of Villain, pushing their shaking hands out of the way so Hero could inspect the damage. Ice had pierced through their suit, seeping into Villain’s chest. Thanks to their own fire powers, it most likely wouldn’t be fatal—Villain's body heat had already begun counteracting the ice. But it looked like it hurt.

Villain’s eyes were distant when they looked up at Hero, and their lips were tinged blue. “My fault,” they said, teeth chattering. “Should’ve been paying attention.”

Hero shook their head. “No, no it’s not your fault. Shit, I'm sorry, I knew you were having an off day and I still…”

Villain wrapped their arms around themself as shivers wracked their body. “S-so cold. And tired.”

“You have to stay awake,” Hero instructed, though it came out as more of a plea. “Keep your eyes open, okay?”

The ice was beginning to melt away already, but the effects would probably last longer. “You’ve g-got your chance to t-turn me in now,” Villain said, forcing themself to keep their eyes on Hero.

Hero sighed, pushing Villain’s hair back. “Not gonna happen. I’m taking you home where you can have some hot soup and lots of blankets, and then rest. And maybe when you’re feeling better, you can tell me what had you so distracted today.”

“Why?” Villain asked incredulously.

“I did this. Now I'm going to fix it.” Hero didn’t tell them about the guilt and the looming fear that always followed them. The constant underlying threat of their powers being too strong. Or that they might lose control, like they had today. One of their worst fears had just come true and it was only by luck, or maybe a miracle, that Hero had hit the one person who couldn’t be killed by their ice powers.

“If you w-wanted me to c-come home with you, you c-could've just asked,” Villain joked.

Hero couldn’t help but smile—at least Villain was with it enough to still tease them. “Don’t fool yourself. Once you’re all better, we go back to being enemies.”

“Yeah. Obviously.” Hero pretended not to notice the way Villain’s smile faltered. “You’d have t-to take me to dinner f-first, anyways. I’m not that easy.”

“Well,” Hero said, “I can at least make you chicken noodle soup, so hopefully that counts for something. Now, come on, let’s see if you can stand…”

#hero x villain #writing #whump #whumpblr #villain whumpee #hero whumper #accidental whump #enemies to lovers #hero caretaker #whumper turned caretaker #whump writing #enemies and lovers #cold whump #hypothermia whump #hurt/comfort #requests open #snippet

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ashwhowrites · 6 months

Note

I’ve heard that you’ve been asking for Robin requests. It’s an enemies to lovers fic, reader is the new girl to Hawkins she auditions for the band, but unknown to the reader that her instrument is also Robin’s. Robin hates the reader as she thinks that she’s trying to compete and be better than her, but the reader thinks that Robin is cute and keeps on trying to impress her with her musical skills. The reader is pissed off by Robin being cold to her and gives Robin a taste of her own medicine. The two have an explosive argument which the reader reveals her feelings for Robin and I’ll leave the ending up to you. Love your writing

Love love love my girl Robin. I ended this happy! You're welcome in advance. I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Battle of the trumpets

Y/N was new to town and didn't know anyone. She landed herself in band, playing the trumpet. An instrument she knew how to play since she was young, her impressive playing earned her many praises in class. She might have tried to show off, but it wasn't for the teacher, it was for the cute brunette with dashing blue eyes that played right next to her.

After a few months of trying to get to know Robin, Y/N fell short. Short-like face planted straight into the ground whenever she made eye contact. Y/N would talk to Robin about their instrument but Robin seemed like she could care less. Whenever Y/N performed a solo, which she only agreed to so Robin could be impressed, Robin rolled her eyes and huffed. Y/N wasn't sure why she was so hostile. But for a while, she gave Robin the benefit of the doubt.

Y/N stayed friendly with Robin for the first few months. She gave her a smile when she entered class and said goodbye as she left. All she could get from Robin was a grunt and shrug. Y/N was attracted to Robin's looks, but her personality made Y/N rethink her crush.

Robin could not stand the goody-goody that she sat next to. A new girl named Y/N. Robin hated that she was stunning, and played the trumpet. Robin felt like Y/N was the new favorite and all the teacher focused on.

Robin was not surprised when Y/N was granted solo after solo. She couldn't stand the way Y/N had to constantly show off. Robin knew it was on purpose too, because of the way Y/N looked back at her every single time. She also hated how fake Y/N was, always acting so nice towards Robin. But Robin knew she didn't mean it, it was a mind game.

The final straw was when they got paired for a duet. The teacher believed they were two of the best and should be paired. Y/N was excited about the idea, alone time with Robin was all she wanted. Robin, on the other hand, was seething at the news.

"Hi, Robin!" Y/N said Robin hated how cute and sweet her voice was.

"Hi," Robin mumbled, her eyes on the floor as she pretended to back up her instrument.

"I was thinking we could meet at my house? Here is my address and phone number." Y/N said, handing over the piece of paper.

"And then the dingus paired us together! Can you believe that? Not only do I have to constantly be right next to her, so close that I can smell her perfume. But now I have to hang out with her?" Robin scoffed, she angrily smashed the movies into the racks.

"I really don't think it will be that bad," Steve explained, Robin had a tendency to overexaggerate a lot.

"You don't know her! Trust me, it will be the worst night of my life." Unaware of Y/N being a few racks behind.

The air was thick, and Y/N barely offered a welcome as she led Robin to her living room. Both were focusing on the music, with no small talk between runs. Only the sound of their music.

"On this part, I'd try doing a tad shorter. The sound dies out at the end." Y/N explained.

Robin sighed heavily at the comment, "Figures you would correct me."

"Just want a good grade." Y/N kept it short. Robin had never seen this side of her before. She was cold and distant.

"Oh, I'm sorry that I'm not the best in the class, and a suck ass to the teacher." Robin fought back.

"I never claimed to be the best, but if that is the way it seems, not my fault. I also don't suck the teacher's ass. I just know how to play." Y/N snapped, her eyes sharp as she glared at Robin.

"Oh please. You constantly show off and do every single solo. You walk all high and mighty, we are all scum beneath your shoe." Robin glared back. The air was thicker than ever between them. Y/N could not believe she ever liked this girl.

"I only showed off because I wanted to impress yo- someone. I never meant to look like a try-hard. If you want a solo, I will gladly step back." Y/N sighed, exhausted from the arguing.

"Oh, the only way I can get a solo is if you step back?"

"That is so not what I said!"

"It's what you are thinking!"

"No, it is not!" Y/N huffed as she stood up and slammed her trumpet back in the case.

"Then what are you thinking, huh? No one comes close to how well you play. Poor Robin can't get the spot on her own so you might as well ha-" Robin didn't get the finish. Y/N's loud scream filled her ears.

"I'M THINKING ABOUT HOW I CAN'T BELIEVE I LIKED YOU IN THE FIRST PLACE. I'M THINKING HOW MUCH OF AN IDIOT I WAS IN TRYING TO IMPRESS YOU. GO TO HELL, BUCKLEY."

Robin sat stunned as Y/N's bedroom door slammed.

~~~

"How did last night go?" Steve asked when Robin walked into her morning shift.

"Terrible" Robin sighed, the guilt was heavy on her chest. Her anxiety made her want to throw up. "Turns out she likes me."

"And that is bad?" Steve asked, his head turned into confusion.

"Yes, it's bad! We got into a huge argument because of my big mouth, and she snapped. I don't know what to do."

"Have you tried apologizing?"

"Wow! What a good idea- of course I fucking apologized. She refused to open the door." Robin sighed again, her head slamming against the counter.

~~~

Monday arrived and Robin was nervous to see Y/N again. She walked into band and saw Y/N in her normal seat. Robin took a deep breath and went to take her seat when the teacher stopped her.

"Robin, perfect you are here! I'd like to announce to the class that the big solo at the big show will be performed by Robin Buckley." The class erupted in applause but Robin looked to Y/N.

The bell rang and Robin's tongue was fast as she asked Y/N to talk.

"You didn't need to get me that solo."

Y/N rolled her eyes, of course, it wasn't an apology.

"I didn't. He genuinely picked you. You were better after all. Congratulations on the solo, and don't worry about the duet. He cut it from the show." Y/N said a sad smile sent Robin's way as she left.

Great, now Robin felt even worse.

~~~

Robin thought about Y/N and tried to think of every way to fix it. She started by dropping out of the solo. Y/N deserved that part way more than Robin did.

Of course, that doesn't fix the damage Robin did. But it was a step forward.

~~~

Robin took a deep breath and clenched the flowers in her hand. She stood backstage as she waited for Y/N. She practiced the apology in her head over and over.

"Oh, hi," Y/N said, a confused look in her eyes.

"These are for you," Robin rushed out, practically slamming the flowers into Y/N's chest.

"Thank you," Y/N smiled.

"Your performance was wonderful," Robin added, the air was thick and uncomfortable. Robin felt like she could barely breathe underneath her suit. She took in the sight of Y/N in her long black dress and classy makeup.

"What are you doing here?" Y/N asked. She figured Robin went to the performance as a member of the band since she didn't have a song to perform.

"I wanted to see you, and to apologize." Robin gulped, "I treated you like shit based on my own insecurity. I saw you as a competition and I thought you were trying to push me out. I felt like a huge ass when you admitted you like me and wanted to impress me. I'm honored that you thought I was worth your attention. I know I fucked up, and I am so sorry. Pathetically, I thought coming here, dressed up, with flowers and an apology would be romantic. But I kinda feel stupid." Robin laughed nervously.

Y/N shook her head but stepped closer to Robin.

"It is romantic," Y/N whispered, her finger underneath Robin's chin as she pushed up her head. Robin licked her lips nervously as Y/N's soft skin touched hers.

"Yeah?" Robin whispered, her nervous smile made Y/N's stomach flutter.

"You know what would make it more romantic?" Y/N whispered, her eyebrow raised as she smiled. "If you kissed me."

"Right! Totally," Robin agreed, nodding her head. She felt her body heat up as Y/N's lips landed on hers. Robin never felt her heart race so fast, like it was trying to run out of her body. She placed her sweaty and nervous hands on Y/N's waist and pulled her closer.

Robin felt her knees buckle as Y/N's warm tongue touched hers. Robin gripped Y/N's dress tight and groaned as Y/N dropped the flowers to dive her hands into Robin's hair.

"Hey, Rob di-" The girls snapped apart upon hearing a voice. Y/N shyly wiped her lips as she saw a stranger with a shocked look on his face.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to walk in on...that."

"Thanks, dingus," Robin said annoyed. Major cock block much?

"I'm Steve!" His hand reached out.

Y/N coughed awardly and shook his hand.

"Y/N"

"Well I'm just gonna go and leave you two alone," Steve winked and walked out. Leaving the girls blushing and looking at the floor.

"Want to get out of here? Somewhere we won't be interrupted?" Y/N asked, Robin was a puddle at her feet.

"Absolutely."

#robin buckley fanfic #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley #robin buckley x female reader #robin buckley angst x female reader #Robin Buckley angst #robin buckley fluff x female reader #robin buckley x reader angst #ashwhowrites

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samdeancass · 7 months

Text

Make It Count

Requested by @acing-dyslexia with prompt #16 from Sentence Prompts: "I'm going to beat you until you can't remember you're own name." "I'll give you one hit. You better make it good."

Pairing: Diego Hargreeves x reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Characters: Diego, Y/N

Description: Y/N is taken by an old enemy of Diego's and when he comes to their rescue, he makes the kidnapper pay.

If you were honest with yourself, you expected to be kidnapped considering who your boyfriend was and who his family were. What you didn't expect, however, is to be kidnapped by somebody you knew.

You were sat in the middle of a darkened room, the only light coming from the small window at the side of you. Your wrists were sore and slightly bleeding from the constant writhing to get out of the ropes. Hearing footsteps coming closer to the door, you sat up straight and put on a stoic expression before your kidnapper entered the room.

"Hello, Y/N. How lovely to see you again." Your eyes widened as your childhood best friend stood in front of you. "Bradley? What the actual hell?!" He chuckled as he walked towards you and knelt down in front of you. "Well, Y/N, it turns out that your boyfriend and I have a rather large rivalry with each other. He keeps beating down my illegal dealings and to be honest, I've had enough."

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. "OK, let me get this straight. Diego is doing good in this world by taking down whatever illegal shit you're doing and you've decided to take me as a way to teach him a lesson?" Bradley smiled at you and tapped your cheek. "Well done, you're catching on." "Well, I want to know something. How did my sweet best friend turn into a full-on criminal mastermind?" He smirked at you and stood up. "That's a story for another day I'm afraid. It seems as though Diego has made his arrival."

A huge smirk spread across your face. "He is going to kick your ass. It was the worst mistake taking me." Bradley made his way behind you and wound a gag tight around your head before pointing a gun at your head. A loud scuffle sounded outside the door and a pang of happiness rang through your body. You weren't scared in the slightest, you knew what Diego was capable of and you knew that he wouldn't let Bradley hurt you.

The door swung open and Diego pushed one of the guards in, ripping his knife out of their chest. Spotting you in the middle of the room, his eyes widened a little but you nodded to signal that you were alright. "You have 3 seconds to move that gun away from their head before I beat the shit out of you."

Bradley pushed the gun further into the side of your head, making you wince a little. Diego growled and Bradley chuckled at how quickly he was getting to him. "Now, now Diego. No need for violence. I just want you to stop interfering with my work. It's getting really annoying and I need to live, ya know?"

"I wouldn't have to interfere if your work was legit but what you're doing is hurting people and it needs to stop. There is no way I'm going to let it carry on." Diego gripped the base of his knife tightly in his hand as he spotted Bradley moving further beside you. "Well, then, I suppose Y/N here will have to say goodbye won't they?" You heard the click of the gun right in your ear and you closed your eyes, knowing exactly what was about to happen.

Before Bradley could shoot Diego threw the knife at the gun and knocked it out of his hand, causing Bradley to stumble back in surprise. "I'm going to beat you until you can't remember you're own name." Diego stalked towards Bradley as if he were prey, a sinister smirk on his face. "I'll give you one hit. You better make it good." "Don't worry, it will be."

Diego swung his fist back and put all of his power into the punch, knocking Bradley completely off his feet and to the ground. Diego climbed on top of him and grabbed the scruff of his shirt. "If you ever touch Y/N again, or even think about them, I won't be so easy on you. I won't just beat your ass, I'll kill you. Understand?" Bradley nodded his head, clearly scared. Diego laughed before swinging his fist back and connected it with Bradley's face, knocking him out cold.

Diego got up and ran over to you, cutting your binds from your hands. You took the gag out of your mouth and smiled at your boyfriend, who offered you his hand to help you up. "You alright? Did he hurt you?" "No, but I did know him. Turns out he was my childhood best friend." Diego raised an eyebrow and shook his head. "I will never understand the things that go through these guys heads."

He kissed the side of your head, swung his arm over your shoulders, and walked you out of the building. "Wanna go for food? I'm starving." You rolled your eyes and chuckled before getting into your side of the car. "Trust you to be hungry after beating a guy."

#diego hargreeves #diego hargreeves x reader #diego hargreeves imagine #diego hargreeves fanfiction #diego hargreeves fluff #diego hargreeves angst #the umbrella academy #the umbrella academy x reader #the umbrella academy imagine #the umbrella academy fanfiction #the umbrella academy fluff #the umbrella academy angst #sentence prompts

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tlkfaerie · 1 year

Text

Impossible

Pairing: Sihtric x reader x Finan ✩࿐

⋆｡˚☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩ wc: 5.9k

note: I'm sensing a pattern arising where the reader is related to Uhtred in my writing pffft I just love it lol. this fic is a bit shameless of me tbh, consider Sihtric and Finan to be your mindless Kens in this.

summary: Sihtric and Finan do not take kindly to your attitude after they catch you with another warrior, leading to a night filled with confession and obsession. ✧˖°

MDNI! 18+ ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･TW!: mentions of potential assault, period-typical misogyny, mentions of blood, pining, F/M/M, oral (male receiving), p in v, slight domination etc

You had been resting all day, abandoning any duties that had been bestowed on you by Beocca or the others. Osferth had been with you for a while, but had run as soon as he saw some of your lady friends approaching, fearing that they would hassle him. Though he was sweet, he was incredibly oblivious, a trait that had gotten him into serious trouble - and by default, you too.

It was always you that seemed to be involved in some kind of dilemma, Uhtred's sister, clumsy and short-tempered. You always likened yourself more to Brida, wanting to follow in her wild, mildly assaulting ways with people. Ragnar cherished you, but always decided that Uhtred would be able to keep you safer, as he had a mixed band of trustworthy individuals.

You wandered in the nearby woods, collecting random flowers that interested you and occasionally stuffing them in-between the threading of your dress, which by now was soaked with a layer of mud from the terrain beneath your feet. Thyra had warned you not to arrive back too late. You knew that you shouldn't be too long, not on your own like this, but for now, everything in Uhtred's world seemed remarkably peaceful. For someone who liked to play with Alfred's commands, this was a miracle.

You revelled in your own company for a little longer, feeling your heart stop when your peace was finally disturbed by hooves. Before you turned around, you feared the worst, that it was some enemy of Uhtred's come to claim you and sell you for ransom. Fingertips going cold, you rested your thumb on the hiding place that you usually kept a small blade in, feeling its absence and cursing wildly.

Shit.

"And why do I find you out here all alone, lady?" you vaguely recognised the voice to be Gudrun, one of your brother's warriors and somewhat of a childhood acquaintance. You turned swiftly, to find the man looking down at you from his horse. He was handsome in his own right - but you had often seen him night after night sitting with a cup of ale, and whatever company he could find for the night. You did not blame him, finding yourself at the mercy of ale from time to time, but wondered why he squandered his talents on such wasteful hobbies so often.

"Please don't let me stop you on your journey Gudrun, I wouldn't want to slow you down," you began to dismiss him somewhat, feeling a fool for straying so far from the village with so little to protect you. You knew he was one of Uhtred's men, but the company of men was a tumultuous one.

"Not at all, Y/N. In fact, I can think of no better way for my journey to be disturbed," he smiled rather darkly, a tone of strange flirtation in his voice. You assumed he was harmless, relaxing a little as you accepted his compliment. You wanted Uhtred to come behind him at any moment to protect you, but he had his own children and wife to worry about now, so you were forced to remain.

"That's too kind, Gudrun, where are you headed?"

"To Lunden, just on some small duty. It's nothing serious. You should accompany me, lady."

You grimaced at that, knowing what had occurred at Lunden not too long ago. Gudrun seemed pleased at your discomfort. You felt bad for characterising him as a brute, wanting to remain pleasant to him, but you had observed how he was with his women before, often leaving them bruised and in need of comfort.

You politely refuse, wanting to be done with the situation, but then he dismounts from his horse, the poor thing jolting slightly. You watched the animal relax, returning your gaze to the much taller man who now hovered above you, blonde hair cascading in layered pieces around his face.

You stood your ground when he spoke. "Are you sure, pretty? I would not want to leave you out here alone, where any man could claim you for his own," he whispered, forehead practically touching yours as he took a few steps closer. You didn't like what he was saying, cheeks burning with his words, feeling your own brows furrowing. You were perfectly capable of defending yourself, or at least you thought you were.

Uhtred's best men and your closest friends, Sihtric and Finan, spent hours with you teaching you basic movements of defence, and when you were in the company of Brida and Ragnar, which wasn't often, you often challenged them to silly fights that you had occasionally won.

You didn't think before you shouted at him, "have the weight of your disgusting balls dragged your brain down with them? Or did you not hear what I said?"

You realised all too late that you had escalated the situation, watching the surprise on his face grow into anger, stalking backwards as you realised Gudrun's intentions may not have been as pure as you once thought. You didn't want to cause Uhtred any more unnecessary problems or create new tensions, but the way Gudrun was now staring at you reminded you that you were truly at his mercy.

"Those are such vulgar words for a lady like you, Y/N. I could have your tongue for that, but I can think of a better use for it first," he grinned, closing in on you. Your back quickly hit a tree, and you felt an immediate flush of nervousness. Nevertheless, it quickly subsided, and you allowed yourself a moment to breathe, readying your next words carefully.

"What would your mother think of the way you speak?" you were quick to spit in his face, acutely aware of the danger you were putting yourself in, but strangely loving it, "have the women around you not civilised you? Not taught you manners? Or were you raised by wretched wolves?"

Slipping away from under him and past the tree, you had expected to make somewhat of a swift escape, but Gudrun grabbed you before you could even think, his entire hand encircling your arm, squeezing until you felt yourself going cold, a tear making its way down your cheek.

"So stubborn for such a pestilent whore," he returned the favour, spitting onto your cheek as he bared his teeth at you, almost growling, "so stupid. I was taught how to treat a woman, and I will show you-"

Before he could continue, the scene was disturbed by more galloping, and the unsheathing of a sword. You recognised the voice that you heard next to be Finan's, and you resented it.

"Gudrun, what the hell do you think you're doing? Is this what you call being a warrior?" He shouted, immediately dismounting from his horse, sword in hand. He looked at you, eyes swimming in concern for you, which you returned with a scowl. You hated that he had come to your aid, and what was worse, you could see Sihtric coming towards the three of you as well.

Normally, you would be happy to see the two of them, but not on this occasion. The three of you had become incredibly close as things had settled down. Before, they had always seemed too busy, but over the year they had sought your company more and more. But their attention meant a watchful eye was always on you. As Uhtred built his family, you thought you had escaped your scoldings, but to no avail, the two of them always had something to say.

And now they were saving you. As they always seemed to do when you were in trouble. It infuriated you; feeling so inferior to the both of them, hating the way they coddled you as though you were some sort of child. You wanted them to see you as a woman. The whole situation made you act in a way you weren't entirely proud of.

"Finan just leave this, I can handle myself," you yelled, feeling shame run through you as Gudrun still gripped you tightly, not allowing you to go anywhere as you pulled and thrashed, practically kicking him. You wanted to literally sink into the ground when you felt Finan's eyes on you. He stood in all his seriousness, but knowing that he would win this altercation with Gudrun, there was also a hint of amusement.

"I'd listen to the lady, Finan, just leave me with her tits and I'll be finished."

Sihtric, who until now had been quiet, looked at you disapprovingly, which only spurred you on further. You loved him at the best of times, but the feeling of inferiority was eating you alive. You kicked and scratched, watching as Gudrun's sword went from pointing to Finan to pointing at you, its sharp end slightly piercing your arm.

"You bastard!" you practically screamed, but it fell on deaf ears. Sihtric, always careful, stepped slowly to your left, as Finan moved to your right, dominating Gudrun's line of sight.

"Go on, Gudrun, go to Lunden, spend all your money on women as you always do, forget this one," Sihtric taunted, rendering your own words invisible as you saw how Gudrun reacted. It seemed as though you had lost your voice. You huffed, wriggling further in his grip, which caused his sword to pierce you even more, drawing blood.

Finan tutted, looking over the both of you to Sihtric, as though they shared an invisible sort of signal that had you torn from Gudrun in seconds. Now you felt yourself in Sihtric's arms, binding you to him. Finan wasted no time, stabbing Gudrun's leg, leaving him there. He whispered something in Gudrun's ear, most likely a warning not to come back , which you thought was wise.

Just as quickly as he had finished with Gudrun, Finan stormed over to you and Sihtric. You hated to admit that Sihtric's grip was warm and welcome, and relief had you practically melting into him, but you knew what was to come.

"How I've missed your childish insolence," Finan remarked, smiling despite your very obvious scowl. Sihtric, however, was more serious, tending to your arm as blood seemed to pour from it endlessly. "You were naive to think you could take him, Y/N, you should not have further endangered yourself." He was quiet, raising a cloth to your wound, pursing his lips as the fabric quickly soaked into a dark mess.

"I had no choice, what would you have me do? Let him take me right then and there?" you knew you were digging yourself a deeper hole, ripping your arm from Sihtric's grasp, letting the cloth he had been holding fall to the floor.

"You know what Sihtric means. You shouldn't have to reason with him, I know, let's just be glad the prick is passed out." Finan kicked the unconscious body of Gudrun, which rocked, but did not muster. Finan looked at you, sensing frustration. He understood you, that you had been placed in an impossible situation, but they had truly only wanted to help you.

The three of you had briefly explained to Uhtred why he would be missing a man from now on, and with that you avoided Sihtric and Finan like the plague for over a week, much to their mutual dismay.

Both Sihtric and Finan sat on a table outside of the ale house, Osferth off somewhere training whilst Uhtred had gone to help Gisela with the children. Left to their own conversation, which was usually a blessing to the both of them, they began to talk about you.

You who hadn't been seen leaving your own home in days other than to bathe or eat. You who used to wander so recklessly, spending days in fields and forests with whoever you could get to join you.

They missed you pestering them with silly questions of battle and fighting, how you observed them with awe when they told stories of their lives before they had met you. Your innocent eyes no longer lit up in front of them, bringing them a pure sense of life after days of death and destruction.

"I must have left my mind on the battlefield," Finan muttered, Sihtric responding with a quiet grin as he sipped on ale. He knew what Finan was saying; the two of them had gained somewhat of an understanding over the past few days, realising that they both had feelings for you.

"Just what the world needs," Sihtric responded, looking at Finan, "two men in love with the same woman who speaks to neither of them." They both chuckled, refusing to let such a thing come between them.

"Something needs to be done, we can't just sit here like miserable bastards." Finan spoke, giving Sihtric a knowing glance. Sihtric scowled as he usually did, wanting to act entirely irrationally but holding himself back for the sake of everyone in the village.

As if their prayers had been answered, you came stumbling out of your home not even seconds later, in full view of the ale house and the two men you sought. Sihtric and Finan, you mentally scoffed.

Your frustration had been brewing for an entire week now. How embarrassed you had been at your outburst, and at your rejection of Finan's help and Sihtric's aid. You were equally as furious at the constant prominence of men in your life. They were everywhere all at once, consuming you, believing they could take whatever they wanted from you.

But what was even more sickly was that you missed your two friends dearly. Playing stupid games of stones with Finan who laughed at the most utterly unfunny things, and Sihtric, ever the affectionate friend, always one step ahead to ensure your safety. You felt like a fool for not realising that you liked them. You really liked them.

You set your sights on the hall and the ale house, where you knew they would surely be, stomping over as if it were your birthright. Once you saw the two of them sitting outside, you recognised their smiles. Wanting to make that short lived, you struck the back of their heads at the same time, plonking down onto the bench nearest to them.

"Y/N-" Sihtric began, but you held up a finger in his face, wagging it infuriatingly.

"No. You must listen to me. I am thankful for what you did to help me with Gudrun, and I'm sorry I haven't reacted as though I were. I was merely upset that a man felt he could do such a thing to me, and that I couldn't do anything about it without help," you didn't even manage a breath as you continued, "I just don't want to be seen as some kind of incompetent fool that needs to be saved. And what makes it worse is that I wanted to teach you both a lesson by being independent, you slugs!'

"Y/N, breathe." Finan chastised, causing your eyes to widen.

"Shut up and let me finish!" you stomped your foot, aggravated by his pretty smile and the way he seemed to unconsciously reach for the hem of your dress to play with. Sihtric also amused you for a second, his expression one of deadly seriousness as he listened to you intently.

"There's more I could say, but I just think I'd rather we go back to normal," you huffed, slightly annoyed at their downcast expressions, "and against all of my judgements about men, I've found myself pining pathetically for the both of you."

"Well, sorry for inconveniencing you so much, lady." Finan smiled, simply thankful that you were back on speaking terms with them. Your anger sat well within him though, and they didn't want to take advantage of the moment, not when your point was very much valid.

"We will teach you to be a great warrior, Y/N," Sihtric smirked rather proudly, punching your arm, to which you responded with a slap and a request for ale. Looking down at your hands, you briefly missed the longing look that the two men gave you.

Another week had passed, and the two men still hadn't confessed to you of their true affections, but the three of you understood that there had been some sort of shift in your relationship. Uhtred had been called to and from King Alfred's company once or twice, leaving you absent of your friends for a few days.

This didn't bother you at all, in fact, you were somewhat relieved from the break. Gisela kept you busy, with walking and games that Beocca had gifted her, you had even swum once or twice with her, entirely free and content. But when she took up her motherly duties, you were free to roam as you pleased, ignoring all civilisation as you wandered further and further from the village.

It was hours later that you returned, feeling anything but fresh, with some cuts and bruises from when you had decided to climb up a tree to take an hour's rest. Much to your dismay, you were not very good at climbing trees.

You hadn't even been entirely sure where your brother and the others had been sent to, as they were constantly marching north and south for some reason, but you had not expected to see them all gathered in the centre of the village walls when you returned from your own rough excursion.

Uhtred ran to you, picking you up in a forceful hug, laughing at your state. "I see you do not know how to stay out of trouble, Y/N. You limp like a fat man!" His shining eyes were somehow swimming with both excitement and exhaustion, and you returned his affections, realising he most likely needed them.

"I see things went your way this time, Uhtred." you let him hug you for just a little longer, sensing he must have faced great struggle to be so affectionate towards you. "How was everything?"

"Fine, sister, fine. I faced nothing quite as fearsome as you." Uhtred allowed his fondness for you to take over him for a moment, glad to be reminded of home and family. You rolled your eyes, patting his shoulder and letting him return to his children.

The air caught in your throat when you finally saw both Sihtric and Finan, talking casually with a few other warriors in the corner. They were dirty, even bloody, furs and capes draped over their enormous frames, sharp faces laughing as they were finally free from duties for a little while longer.

Finan spotted you first, a smile growing on his face as his arms opened warmly to greet you. He had removed the straps clinging to him, so that his sword fell to the floor. You walked slowly towards them, head tilted to the side when you welcomed Finan's embrace, not wanting to say too much as you felt his grip tighten.

You opened your scrunched eyes briefly to see Sihtric next to the two of you, placing a gloved hand on your head, patting it slightly. You blushed at the way he looked at you, realising you had been staring slightly too long, and that Finan had been hugging you for a while now, chin resting on your head.

Finan took you in, your once clean dress swimming in mud and loose leaves. Your braids unravelling slowly, a tad of mud on your face. You looked like you had gone on the journey with them. But, as he stared into your wide eyes, he thought that you had never looked more beautiful.

"I missed the two of you," you finally spoke, words hanging in the air. Sihtric looked down, grabbing your hand and holding tightly. Finan busied himself by fiddling with your braid.

"We missed you. I swear I saw Sihtric cryin' at one point, poor rat was devastated to leave our weakness." Though he spoke in an amusing manner, his eyebrows remained firm, and his smile did not last. The tension was ripe.

"Hey, Finan was the one telling all the men about you. Uhtred nearly had to send him away," the Dane responded, lightening the tone, but confusing you even more. They had been talking about you as their weakness, missing you, and now they couldn't stop touching you in some small form. Why didn't they just do something?

You knew they were polite men in their own regard, and that it would be up to you to initiate something. But what you didn't know, is that once you did, there would never be any going back. The two men wanted you so desperately; they had been discussing logistically how two men could share one woman forever, and had come to the conclusion that they simply just would. Now they were bursting at the seams waiting for you to say you wanted it too. They needed your confirmation.

"You should both come to my home," you said to them, shuffling your feet in the direction of your house. Gisela had taught you a little something about seduction whilst the men had been away, and you wanted to be the one in control of the situation. For now, at least. "For food, I mean. And drink."

"I never knew you could be such a kind hostess, Y/N." Finan said, pulling Sihtric towards him. You scoffed, squinting your eyes at him which caused him to stick out his tongue, a slight chuckle from Sihtric.

They had been to your house plenty of times, even staying over sometimes with Osferth or even Uhtred when they wanted peace and quiet. But this time, something in the pit of your stomach told you it was going to be different. You trotted quickly as they prowled behind you, already knowing the way themselves.

You felt their eyes burning holes into the back of your head as you stood at your door, the two me hovering over you, heads above you. You fumbled a little with the door, sighing in frustration.

"Take your time." mumbled Sihtric, surprising you slightly. Your face burnt like molten lava, and you refused to look at them. The two men gave each other a knowing look, a sense of unfinished business hovering in the air.

Sihtric's words affected you more than you had realised, his soft, deep voice reverberating in your head. You felt a hand on your shoulder, unaware as to which of the men it belonged to, and before you could control your reaction, a minuscule whimper came shooting out of your mouth.

Thankfully, you managed to regain consciousness for the moment and opened the door, ignoring any consequences of the sickly noise you had just let out. Little did you know, the noise had stirred Finan's cock, and Sihtric had had to take a deep breath to control himself, nostrils flaring.

You were teasing them, and you had no idea. Soon realising you had actually promised them food, you decided to make good on that, telling them to sit down, where some meats and a little fruit and bread were waiting. You took a moment to breathe, unable to focus on anything but their figures as they passed you and made a point of touching you as they did.

After some normal chatter, you realised that they weren't eating. At first you thought the food you had brought to them was sour, but upon further inspection of them, you began to fidget in your seat. They were practically ogling you, Finan's eyes carrying a sort of apologetic lust, whilst Sihtric gazed at you as though he was drunk.

A shiver ran down your spine, which caused you to fidget even more, hands picking at your dress. This movement did not go unnoticed by Sihtric, who took this as the perfect opportunity to initiate what you were all clearly thinking,

"You are cold, Y/N, you should come closer," his lips parted, and he truly felt in this moment that the Gods had gifted him with some kind of angel, as you stared open-eyed at him. He felt himself getting impatient, reaching out to you with an open palm when you stood hesitantly, like some sort of animal trapped between wolves.

Finan seemed to enjoy this, stretching back into the chair as you made your way to Sihtric, accepting his hand, not entirely sure on what to do next. After a moment of lingering, Finan answered your prayers with a simple "Sit, Y/N."

Sihtric groaned when you finally placed yourself in his lap, staring into his dual-toned eyes, unable to keep his intimidating gaze for longer than a second. Though you knew in reality he was a sweetheart, in this moment, he seemed dangerous.

Before you could lower your chin, Sihtric gripped it with his rough fingers, forcing you back up to face him, his other hand sliding down to your backside. He did nothing for a moment, each movement incredibly slow.

Other than the crackling fire in the corner of the seating area, all was silent. You realised your braids had unravelled entirely now, wild hair hanging loosely around your face. You hadn't realised how close Finan was until you saw him behind you, standing above you and Sihtric, a tight grip on your loose hair forcing your face even higher. The way he looked down at you, eyebrows furrowing and seemingly glazed with lust, you almost couldn't take it.

"She likes this," Finan muttered, Sihtric humming in agreement. You gasped when the iron grip tightened, forgetting that you were in the presence of two of the greatest warriors in the realm. It turned you on to no end.

Sihtric took advantage of your open mouth, sliding a finger inside, the others holding your chin still. You sucked on the digit rather insatiably, to your own embarrassment, unable to be satisfied until it was soaked and you yourself were drooling onto his trousers. But just as the moment was getting good, as they always did, they found a way to chastise you.

This had been a long, long time coming.

"You must never ignore us like that again, lady," Finan said, "I mean, could you not have just spoken to us? I imagine that would have been a whole lot easier."

The patronising tone had you feeling mildly embarrassed, but the sickly sort of degradation came with sweet caresses, so you managed to forget your pride for a moment.

Instead, despite the grip in your hair and the fingers in your mouth, you nodded, moaning profusely as your eyes rolled back when Sihtric forced another finger in.

"I'd ask for a verbal answer, angel, but I see that probably won't happen." he observed sarcastically, finally loosening his hold for just a moment, your head lolling to the side, wanting to be closer to the both of them. You were rather ashamed of the mess they had turned you into in a matter of minutes.

The feigned sympathy on Sihtric's face was infuriatingly attractive, so much so that you found it within yourself to quickly nip his fingers as he was removing them from your mouth, earning a genuine smile and a strike to the thigh, which was now exposed as your dress had bunched up.

"We own you now, Y/N," Sihtric finally spoke, voice barely above a whisper, "We both own you. You are our woman to love." That was all the confirmation you needed.

As quickly as you could possibly manage, you were kissing Sihtric, barely remembering to breather as you moved rhythmically on his lap, lips disconnecting and soon returning to a forceful kiss with Finan. You were beside yourself, wild like some kind of animal as you felt Sihtric on your neck and Finan on your lips.

It was all too much, and the feeling in your arms seemed to give way, not helping your case as you began to push the both of them.

"What do you need, love?" Sihtric asked, entirely ready to give you everything you needed. If only you could find the words. You didn't answer as Finan worked some sort of sorcery on your neck, sucking and biting just where you felt the most sensitive. "I should not have to ask again."

Sihtric's eye contact became so strong that you immediately cowered, any snide comments you had exiting your brain for the moment.

"Please, please just do something, take me," you panted, Finan's subtle laughter doing nothing to stop your whining. With that, you were transferred into Finan's arms as Sihtric rose, removing unnecessary leathers and protection, leaving himself only in his tunic. Meanwhile, Finan so gracefully laid you down on the bed of furs, your head leaning against the headboard.

"My lady," he half joked, quick to join Sihtric in the removal of his clothing. You followed their lead, untying the laces at the back of your dress with great effort before letting it slide off, kicking it to the ground.

"God," Finan stood staring at you, at your breasts, watching as your skin reacted harshly to the cold. You were drowning in the furs around you, your naked body like some sort of holy piece that priests would surely covet. Sihtric was by your side in seconds, bare chest colliding with your own skin, ecstasy rushing through you.

"we shall have to keep you like this forever, lady." Sihtric wasted no time in fulfilling your pleas, fingers inside of you before you could react, so filling and long, reaching every crevice inside of you. The welcome intrusion was heightened by Finan's body on your other side, playing with your clit, rubbing over and over until the stimulation became unbearable.

A void inside of you had been entirely filled, and your two friends were now wrapping you slowly around their fingers. A part of you wondered what Uhtred would think, whether he would welcome the strange union or dismiss it altogether, but there was no time for that, not when Sihtric was pumping into you, whilst Finan methodically worked his fingers, making you scream.

"Poor thing," Finan drawled out, watching your trembling frame as if it was pure entertainment. "Should we give you what you want? I think we should." Without consulting you, he simply looked at Sihtric, who seemed to have different ideas.

"I don't think she deserves it, I think that temper needs to be controlled a little more." You flinched as his fingers curled inside of you. Finan gave you an apologetic glance, and you couldn't believe he was listening to Sihtric in this moment . . .

"But!-"

"No," Sihtric mumbled, and Finan saved himself from your glare by hiding his face in the crook of your neck, his finger's methodical patterns becoming slower and slower, delaying your release. You were becoming numb at this point.

"Perhaps things could change if you told us who you belonged to?"

You grunted as you were kept on the edge, feeling constant resistance, and unable to admit your feelings. That was until Finan pinched your clit, and Sihtric slapped your inner thigh, rubbing the red skin as he worked himself in and out of you slowly.

"mmfph"

"Who?"

"Sihtric," you breathed, "And Finan."

"Good," Finan moved now, quickening his pace on the outside whilst Sihtric also followed through on his promise, "good girl".

That was all you needed, the praise making your chest blister and ache. It was intoxicating, being able to come entirely undone beneath the two men, feeling them observe you, kiss you, worship you.

"Our turn now."

One of them mumbled. You weren't entirely sure, blinded by your orgasm, feeling muscles in your thighs twitch as your back arched off of the bed. Before you could even come down, You were flipped onto your stomach. The action was nothing to the two men, so strong they could barely feel the effect they had on you. They made you feel weightless.

Finan couldn't help himself, gripping your ass so tightly you felt like it would bruise. The skin ached when he gave it a small pinch, enjoying your jolt into Sihtric as he kneeled close to your face, petting your hair as he often did, except never in this context.

A kiss to your forehead drew you back into consciousness for the moment, but it did nothing to distract you from Finan's actions behind, his cock now trailing up and down your sex, an agitated grunt coming from the Irishman.

"Good god," Finan muttered, no longer uttering some quip or joke, instead relishing in the feeling of the both of you two against one another. Your softness did something to him, tore deep inside of him; a man so consumed with life of battle did not deserve something so pure, he thought.

On the other hand, Sihtric felt like a God himself. His thumb returned to your mouth, feeding the oral fixation you didn't know you had. "Will you take the both os us?" He taunted you, asking you questions while he filled your mouth. The thought of them both intimidated you, and you shuddered when Finan aligned himself with your entrance, slowly pushing in before you could even think.

"Yes, yes, yes," you chanted like a mad woman, drool slipping past your lips in excess amounts, pleasing Sihtric, whose thumb was soon replaced with his thick cock. It slid straight to the back of your throat, slowly beginning to match the pace of Finan's thrusts.

Though Finan was attempting to be gentle, he did not recognise his own strength, apologising out of habit when you squealed. The sound was muffled by Sihtric's cock, his pelvis now hitting your nose. Both men shared a look above you, in silent agreement, realising this is exactly what they wanted in life. You.

In all of Winchester, nothing had more of a pull to them like you did. Not even Uhtred's command would keep them away from you now.

"Fuck," Finan practically spat, his hips quickening their pace, his long cock coming inside and outside of you, feeling the tightness grip harder and harder until he was nearly coming.

Sihtric equally had his way with you, hand in your hair simply moving you as he pleased, loving the way your tongue lolled out to welcome his cock.

"You are so beautiful, lady." Finan moaned, head facing the sky as if in prayer. It did not take much longer before he was coming undone within you, cursing as he realised he had selfishly come before both you and Sihtric.

Sihtric gave one final stroke before he too came straight down your throat, a choke coming from you as he waited before moving out of you. He decided that he wanted to take you next.

"Swallow."

His final command had you tightening around Finan, disturbing him from his moment of meditation with great force. Gritting his teeth, Finan barely managed to keep his composure as he finally slid from you, both men letting you slump underneath them.

Exhaustion hit you with a sharp thump, and your eyes began to close before you could say anything to the two men above you. Your eyes glazed over as Finan turned you onto your back to face them. They towered over you, Finan smiling, assuring you he was only trying to help when he let go of you for a moment, going to fetch a rag.

"When can we bind you to this bed? I want to keep you here forever."

#sihtric #sihtric x reader #finan #sihtric smut #the last kingdom #finan x reader #tlk finan #the last kingdom x reader #finan imagine #the last kingdom fluff #uhtred x reader #sihtric x reader x finan #finan smut #tlk #tlk fanfic #tlk fandom #sihtric kjartansson #finan the agile

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adventuringblind · 8 months

Text

Let Me In, Please

Oscar Piastri x Reader

Genre: Angst, Mafia AU

Summary: Bodyguard Oscar knows something isn't right, he just wasn't expecting it to be so wrong.

Warnings: Implied r@pe, gun violence, depictions of self-harm

Notes: The request was for Enemies to Lovers, and I tried that... I'm not sure this meets your expectations, but I still hope you like it, Nonny!

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

How could she have been so stupid? This was supposed to be safe ground. An area she knows like the back of her hand. All she had to do was walk down the street to Oscar's apartment.

She tried calling him, but he didn't answer. The anxious part of her mind thought the worst.

Yeah, he certainly got on her nerves sometimes. Worse than her brother at times, but he knew when to give her space. Their friendship has been long and drawn out, but he'd do anything for her. He'd made that much clear. Regardless of how she pushed him away.

So, she didn't push anymore, instead she pulled... him down to kiss her.

Most nights he's stay at her place. The dangers of having a brother who runs her father's legacy: everybody is watching for a weak point.

Carlos had been it for her. The one who raised her with the untimely passing of their parents. But then he got busy, so he stuck her with Oscar.

At the time she thought Carlos had just gotten tired of having his little sister around. She knows better now and doesn't lash out at the Aussie for something that isn't his fault.

One block to his apartment. The longest, most difficult walk of her life. Her body hurts, clothes ruined, and skin dirty from his hands. She had no idea who he was, just that her own place isn't safe anymore. Not since he knew her name and managed to completely shatter a window to get in.

She's a mess. The dark streets not helping her mind.

The stairs almost kill her. Her muscles ache from fighting, the bruises rub against her clothes in all the wrong ways.

She reaches the door but hesitates to knock. The sinister thoughts in her head don't want to leave her alone.

She fixes her appearance. A little less wrecked than she looked previously, maybe enough to pass off a nightmare and some stupid anxiety.

She knocks. Oscar answers, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He looks surprised to see her, but the sleepy smile shows her he isn't upset about it.

He pulls her inside and offers her a mug of hot chocolate. Her favorite concoction of his. It's a drug that soothes her aching soul from the mess she's created.

He takes a seat next to her on the couch. "So, what brings you here so late?"

"Nightmare... you didn't answer your phone so I thought maybe something happened." She avoids his gaze. Eye's studying her, determing if he should push for more information.

"You're brother would kill me if he knew you walked here alone."

"He would also kill you if he knew that we're dating."

"Fair point."

Oscar lends her his clothes to sleep in and tucks her into bed. He's still awake, watching over her dutifully, even as her mind drifts into the peacefulness of sleep.

♤♡◇♧

Oscar doesn't like to snoop. Well, sometimes it's fun, but not when he's investigating the apartment of someone he loves.

Something is off, and he's going to figure it out. Her restless slumber and nails digging into her skin only helped co fin his thoughts.

He'd dropped her with Carlos and went right to her apartment. Only to find the door left open and window shattered.

Why hadn't she told him someone had broken in? Unless it was worse than that... but that wouldn't make sense.

Suspicions confirmed, Oscar heads back to get his lover. Hopefully, not to pissed at her brother. Their one-sided arguments have been getting worse. Enough for him to see how it's exhausting her.

She wants her brother, and he sends her away. She tries to comfort him, and he pushes her away. Enough to get aggressive on a few occasions when he's particularly peeved.

It's been a half hour, so the damage can't be too bad. Oscar speeds his way to Carlos' office, where both of them should be. Anxious to make sure she doesn't feel the need to slip back into old habits.

Oscar and her have been through the ringer with each other. He's seen the worst parts of her and made it a point to love her regardless.

To strong for some, to weak for her brother. It's astounding how cruel people are when they are intimidated by someone. Oscar feels comfortable knowing she can put a bullet through a skull.

Even so, it's jarring when he finds the office door wide open. Carlos is pacing back and forth, ranting to himself in Spanish.

Oscar still knocks before he just waltz in unannounced. He'd rather not get shot. Thank you very much.

"Mr. Sainz?" Oscar doesn't flinch when Carlos whips around and jabs a finger in his direction.

"Don't you dare leave my sister alone again."

Okay, he's a bit taken aback at that. "Sir?"

"I've been notified one of my men was at her apartment last night." Carlos slaps a file of images on the desk.

Oscar has to grit his teeth. The story they depict makes his heart shatter and anger course through his veins.

"I want him dead."

"Understood sir."

He walks out of the office, shoulders squared. Nobody gets to mess with his girl like that.

♤♡◇♧

The cold tile against her body is oddly numbing. It's familiar, a home when her emotions get too much.

Carlos showed her the photos. It hurt enough to make her sick. The bile burning her throat at having to relive the events of last night. The yelling hadn't helped either. Another mess for her brother to clean up.

The blade lays discarded next to her. The blood from her thigh staining the pristine white floor. The sting makes it better. Deserved for causing such a problem. Neccecary for removing the tainted skin. At least what she can for now.

She bleeds away the sins others have committed against her.

The door opens. She doesn't look to see who it is. She already knows. He's wearing his work boots. The ones she's come to be familiar with through this position.

Despite the sleek black color. She can vaugley make out the spots of red.

It's intimate, in a way, how Oscar cleans the blood from both of them simultaneously. He scrubs it off his hands and disinfect her thighs. He uses gentle movements to bandage the deep wounds. Barely moving her in the process.

She hadn't even noticed she was crying. Not until he sits down with her. Careful not to touch her in a way she wouldn't like right now.

She breaks when he bleaches the tiles. The red disappears like it has never been there.

The choked sobs wrack her body. Silent scream, mourning something that was taken from her. The burning in her thighs is a solid reminder of the atrocities she's plauged her brother and Oscar with

Always the problem, never the solution.

"Can I hold you?" His soft voice doesn't help her tears.

"Why would you want to do that? I'm just another - I don't know - dirty problem for you and my brother to deal with?"

Oscar holds his hand out for her to take. She reaches for him hesitantly. She knows Oscar would never hurt her. Not when he shoots anyone who does.

"You are not dirty. You are not a problem. I may joke about it, but I wouldn't have anyone else making my days interesting like you do." Oscar places a soft kiss to the top of her head. "You're the best problem I could've asked for."

"But, I feel gross now." She chokes on her air, suffocating on the feeling of that man's hands on her skin.

"I know it'll be hard, but I also know that you are strong. I'll be there for you when you need me. When you need me to compliment you, when you need to sit in the shower and was away the feelings, hell, even if you punch something, just tell me. Though I'd prefer you not punch me."

"You're not going to leave?"

"Love, I'm your problem. You're stuck with me."

"I guess we can be problems together then."

"Nah, you're not a problem. Just the love of my life."

She rests her head on Oscar's shoulder, hands still intertwined. It's small, but comfortable for now.

She knows Oscar won't push her. He'll be there when she's ready.

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zvtara-was-never-canon · 10 months

Note

you once said that the ZK do not allow the canonical Zuko to show real, sometimes ugly signs of trauma. can you write more about this? because that's what I always felt when I came across their terrible takes, but I couldn't express it.

Gladly! But first, I need to mention the sign of trauma that Zuko usually lacks - and that, for some reason, the fandom insists defines his character:

Fear

Don't get wrong, I'm not saying Zuko never experienced fear. We all saw that poor boy on his knees, crying, begging his father not to hurt him.

But in "Zuko Alone" we also see 10-year-old Zuko get bitter that only his younger sister was expected to show off her firebending skills, and deciding that he would go against his father and demonstrate his own skills to the Fire Lord - that despite the fact that he knew Azula was better at it than he was. Even when it goes wrong, he is upset, but doesn't look afraid of the consequences.

That same episode shows Azula mocking him for playing with knives despite not even being good at it, and even though the fandom insists she was his worst fear ever since he was a child, Zuko responds with a "Put an apple on your head and we'll see how good I am." That little guy has exactly zero chill.

Let's not forget why he was banished either: Despite being considered too young to be in that war meeting, Zuko demanded to be there, eventually got his way, and despite having been told not to say anything, the second he hears a general suggest using their own men as "fresh meat" to lure the enemy, Zuko speaks out against it. And at the start of the Agni Kai, he looked 100% ready to fight a grown ass man with battle experience - until he saw it was his father/Fire Lord.

Let's not forget his Agni Kai with Zhao, which was his idea and that he actually won - and before that, he openly calls Ozai a fool, to which Zhao points out that banishment clearly not teach Zuko to watch his mouth. Or the time he openly challenged Azula in Ba Sing Se and they only didn't fight then and there because Azula knew she'd have the advantage by using the Dai Li. Hell, at the start of that very season, after she tried to lure him to a trap, Zuko's first reaction is to charge at her, fire-daggers in hand. That boy is the definition of "Fuck around and find out."

He has also done things like choosing to save his uncle from earthbenders instead of chasing Aang, crossing a blockade and going into actual Fire Nation territory even though he legally is no longer allowed to do that, and helped rescue Aang from Zhao as the Blue Spirit. It shows us that Zuko doesn't have an issue with temporarely deviating from his mission because of something HE deems important even though his father doesn't, openly disregarding Ozai's orders, and even basically saying "My father will have the Avatar as a prisoner only if I'm the one to capture him"

And, of course, on the day of the eclipse, Zuko grabs his swords and directly threatens Ozai, telling that bastard to sit the fuck down, shut up, and listen to his list of reasons why he sucks as a parent, ruler and person.

Zuko is brave. Unbelievably so. He is fierce, proud, and impulsive to the point of getting himself in situations that he should have known would not go his way (like fighting a waterbender in the snow, in the full moon) because he is very much a "act first, think later" kind of guy. So the fandom's insistence that he is constantly paralyzed by fear is a gross over-simplification of how his trauma affects him.

We only see him genuinely afraid of Ozai twice. During the Agni Kai itself, and then again when he WANTS to speak out against his father's plan to burn the Earth Kingdom to the ground, but can't bring himself to because he remembers what happened last time he spoke out against that kind of horrible thing during a war meeting, at that very room. It took something THAT triggering to make him cower before a challenge.

However, fear wasn't the only reason why didn't speak out during that moment, and that takes us to the first "ugly" sign of trauma that the fandom as a whole likes to pretend Zuko wasn't repeatedly shown to experience:

"My father is right about me, actually"

Zuko doesn't think Ozai was wrong to disfigure and banish him. How could he? Nobody in that entire room stood up to at least try to support him, not even his uncle - who also once said "Why would your father have banished you if he didn't care about you?" because, surprise surprise, nobody in that family knows how to help someone through trauma because they're all dealing with their own shit. Even his crew, who WAS sympathetic to him after finding out how he got that scar, were still 100% willing to not only support Ozai, but risk their lives for him.

Zuko isn't just trying to heal from abuse, he is trying to heal from victim-blaming, and to go against YEARS of indoctrination that say the Fire Lord can do no wrong. That's part of why it was so difficult for Iroh and others to help him: Zuko didn't believe that he needed or deserved help.

And that is also one of his three major unhealthy coping mechanisms. Claiming that HE needs to prove himself to Ozai, that HE needs to make up for HIS mistakes, not the other way around.

It might seem strange that this could be a way to cope, but look at it this way: If it WAS his fault instead of Ozai's, then that means his dad is not an unfair, abusive piece of shit that is unbelievably cruel and impossible to please. Zuko just needs to accomplish this mission of capturing the Avatar and everything will be fine, they'll be a normal family again, and he won't have to be afraid of someone he thought he could trust.

It was like Iroh said: Things are never going to be the same ever agin, but the Avatar gives Zuko HOPE. And that hope that his abuser will one day have a change of heart and be a loving father to him again is both what allows Zuko not to give into despair - and what keeps him trapped in that awful situation.

Misplaced Anger

Another "unpleasant" sign of trauma that Zuko has is how he clearly has an anger problem. Sure, he's a moody teenager with a short fuse, but we see over and over again that he tends to blow things way out of proportion, and that when faced a fact or opinion he doesn't like, he is quick to lash out at someone with VERY cruel words (see him calling Iroh a lazy, shallow, jealous old man in "Avatar State", or calling him crazy and saying if he wasn't in prison, he'd be sleeping in a gutter in "The Headband").

Through the entire show, many people faced Zuko's wrath - Iroh, Aang and friends, his crew, Azula, innocent people of the Earth Kingdom, Mai, Ty Lee, that one rando that talked to Mai, and even Zuko himself.

The one person that usually escapes said wrath is, ironically, Ozai. In "Zuko Alone" he refuses to believe his father would ever be capable of harming him, in "Avatar State" he snaps at Iroh for doubting that Ozai really changed his mind about the whole banishment thing.

He is mad at Aang for being too difficult to capture, and at Zhao for stealing his one chance to come home. He never stops to question if it's fair that his father had him chase someone that was presumed dead, aka an impossible task, as the condition to bring him home. He also never addresses how he feels about the reason WHY said banishment happened until the Day Of Black Sun.

He is mad at Azula for lying to him and trying to take him home as a prisoner. He never gets mad at his father for not only wanting to lock him away forever because ZHAO screwed up at the North Pole, nor how messed up it was that he put Azula in charge of said mission.

For fuck's sake, in the day of the eclipse, we find out that Zuko legit believed his mother was DEAD - and the entire circumstance was shady as hell and put Ozai in a very bad light. Yet Zuko still wanted his love, still wanted to be a "worthy" son.

He HAS to direct his anger at other people, otherwise he'll realize that no, his father, the adult that was meant to care for him, is a complete monster.

Everytime Zuko lashes out at other people before confronting Ozai, he's basically acting like someone who is drowning and, in a panic, is trying to pull the nearest person under so he can try to breathe. It is one of the most accurate and honest representations of trauma and abuse, and it makes me SO mad when people erase it in their fics because "poor, innocent, helpless turtleduck that can do no wrong" makes Zuko look like less of a dick - and also completely strips him of his agency.

And that isn't even the thing that fans ignore the most. That "honor" goes to the simple fact that Zuko, as expected of a child raised to believe the Fire Lord can do no wrong, decided that Azula had the right idea and that the best way to avoid being a victim again was...

Copying His Abuser

Zuko has REPEATEDLY let his "inner Ozai" out through the show.

He is all manipulative by not letting the pirates know he was chasing the Avatar who was worth A LOT more than the scrowl they'd get as a reward for helping him, and by using Katara's necklace as a way to try and get her to say where Aang was.

He repeatedly steals stuff from innocent people (including some who helped him, like Song) because, in his own words "These people should just be giving stuff to us" - aka he's very much an entitled prince.

He betrays his uncle by joining Azula in Ba Sing Se, leading to Iroh being thrown in prison. He also doesn't give a shit when Katara says "I thought you had changed!" and he sends a freaking assassin after the Gaang. Even him refusing to tell Azula that there was a chance Aang could still be alive works both as a "Zuko doesn't trust Azula to not use that against him, and for good reason" and "Zuko did not even stop to think that, since Azula was the one who killed Aang, him coming back also puts HER in danger, because he's too focused on his own problems to notice anybody else's."

More importantly, he rejected a chance of a ceasefire with the Gaang three times (The Blue Spirit, The Chase, Crossroads of Destiny), much like Ozai refused his shot at ending the war in the finale before his battle with Aang, and not only did he challenge Zhao to an Agni Kai and seriously consider burning him, he also threatened one of his crewmen by saying he'd "teach him respect" - which we found out later that episode was what Ozai right before disfiguring poor Zuko.

For fuck's sake, Ozai was literally designed to look like an older Zuko. One without a scar, one that was never banished, one that never had to see first-hand all the death and suffering war brings and reflect on the role he plays in it.

Finally, we have the war meetings in "Nightmares And Daydreams", in which Zuko doesn't speak out against his father's completely inhumane plans to deal with the Earth Kingdom. When talking about it with Mai, he says "I was the perfect prince, the son my father wanted. But I wasn't me."

That is the turning point for Zuko for a reason. It's him finally being forced to acknowledge that, to become Ozai's ideal son, to earn his (conditional) love, to not be his victim he has to be just as bad as he is, just as cruel, just as unfair - and we see in Azula's breakdown how Zuko likely would have ended up if he accepted that path.

But he didn't, and that was not easy because even though it was the morally correct choice, it'd require him to sacrifice everything - his title as a prince, his right to be in the Fire Nation, his relationship with Mai, his (extremelly complicated, sometimes good, often awful) bond with Azula, the "easy" way to get literally anything he wanted at everyone else's expense, and, of course, accept that his father was never going to love him, was never going to change, and was never going to feel sorry for abusing him.

Erasing such a central conflict of his character for the sake of denying he ever did anything wrong is, ironically, removing one of Zuko's most noble character traits: his inability to just live with himself after doing something horrible. There's a reason he is in deep conflict even after getting everything he wanted after the fall of Ba Sing Se - he knows he doesn't deserve it after what he's done.

If you ignore his mistakes and the horrible consequences it had for other people, you also ignore Zuko's growth. This puts him more in the position of a good guy being held hostage by the evil villain, not of a troubled child that redeems himself as he matures.

No flaws, no mistakes, no growth, no arc.

Trauma Doesn't Just Go Away

This one is, by far, the bad trope regarding Zuko's trauma that Zutarians are the most guilt of: assuming that if he just gets enough comforting hugs (mainly from Katara), all of his inner turmoil will suddenly be healed. No more sadness, no more fear, no more of the ugly traits they never acknowledge in the first place. Just a happy, fully recovered Zuko.

But that's just not how these things work. Having the support of a loved one helps victims feel better, but it won't magically make everything okay. Trauma is a really difficult thing to handle. There's good days, bad days, relapses, bad habits that are difficult to move past from. And not only are there cases in which people take YEARS to recover, there are also cases in which they never fully heal, and instead just learn to live with that burden that is still very much present.

I understand the desire to show in fics and headcanons that Zuko will eventually be fully healed and happy, but the way Zutarians make Katara act as not just his girlfriend, but as basically his therapist that needs to find miracle solutions for every single one of his problems, comfort him whenever any minor inconvenience happens until he's gotten enough hugs to be magically okay doesn't just reveal how hypocritical they are, since they insist Kataang is about Katara being Aang's girlfriend/mom/baby-sitter, but also that they legit do not understand a damn thing about trauma and how it works.

Which takes me to:

How Mai Actually Did Right By Zuko

Poor, poor Mai. She gets blamed for "bring out the worst in Zuko", for not being "supportive", for being too cold and unemotional, for not "seeing the real him" - yet she's one of the characters that CONSISTENLY help put Zuko back on his track.

She offers him emotional support and lots of signs of affection over and over again - telling him not worry when they're arriving at the Fire Nation, pointing out she doesn't hate him when she says she's beautiful when she hates the world, explicitly saying she cares about him in The Beach, being incredibly sweet and loving to him during all of Nightmares and Daydreams, and then again in the finale by helping him get dressed up and acting all cute as they get back together.

But she also holds him accountable when he screws up. She doesn't let him use his difficult life as an excuse to be a jerk and calls him out when he's being unreasonable, or when she feels mistreated/like he's making a mistake (see The Beach and Boiling Rock Part 2).

But since the fandom loves to completely erase Zuko's mistakes AND to not let go of a stupid ship war, this completely changes the context, making Mai out to be this awful, bitchy girlfriend, when in reality, she did a great job handling Zuko - sometimes even better than the fan favorite and mentor figure Zuko had through most of his arc.

Uncle Iroh Fucked Up

Before all of you try to kill me, let me make one thing clear here: I love Uncle Iroh. He is one of the most awesome characters in the show, and I fully believe he was trying his best to help Zuko.

But he is still a human being that makes mistakes, and he was raised in the same dysfunctional family Zuko was, meaning he often had NO IDEA how to handle his deeply traumatized teenage nephew/son.

Him spending all of book 1 trying to help Zuko capture Aang so he could go back to living with the guy that disfigured him is already bad enough, but we also have the episode "Avatar State" in which Iroh asks "Why would your father banish you if he didn't care about you?"

Obviously he only did these things because he didn't want Zuko give into despair and depression - but he is still, at best, ignoring the issue, and at worst actively making excuses for Ozai's abuse of his own son. This backfires on him spectacularly, as Zuko sides with Azula over him both in the first and last episode of the season specifically because he believes that appeasing Ozai is the right thing to do, as he was only banished "for his own good."

But THE biggest mistake Iroh made when it came to helping Zuko was his refusal to accept that no, Zuko was never going to be happy by living a quiet, simple life in Ba Sing Se - even after Zuko explicitly said as much to his face.

Obviously, to some extent, Iroh HAS to make Zuko accept that he won't ever be able to come back home after Ozai literally ordered Azula to capture him, but he could have tried to find some kind of middle ground with Zuko, since being a waiter clearly wasn't making him happy.

"Oh, but what about how Zuko started acting after his metamorphosis? He was so happy about working on the tea-shop with his uncle, and that was supposed to reveal his true self!"

Yes, it was supposed to do that. But we saw how Zuko acted after actually dealing with his trauma and redeeming himself. He was obviously in a much healthier place, both mentally and spiritually, but he was still moody, still sarcastic, still as proud as ever, and even Iroh recognized that he was meant to be Fire Lord.

Zuko's arc has a lot to do with identity, with how he sees himself. At that point, the only thing he still had in life was his uncle - so he was acting like him, because there seemed to be no other role model, no other path. Seeing that weird, cheery, relaxed, always-seeing-the-good-side-of-things version of Zuko was honestly unnerving.

And Iroh thought that Zuko basically giving himself the Lake Laogai treatment was okay because he following in his footsteps, doing what helped IROH heal and change - he didn't realize it was never gonna be able to do the same for Zuko.

The very second Azula shows up, even when she's being hostile, Zuko drops the facade, because she's a reminder of both his old life and what he thought his future would be. And when she offers him "redemption" Iroh tried to advice Zuko against joining her by saying "The redemption she offers is not for you" (as in not for someone who is doing better and doesn't need to return to the Fire Nation) and "It's time for you to choose. It's time for you to choose good." How is it a choice if Iroh is explicitly saying which option Zuko cannot pick, essentially making the decision for him?

Iroh didn't just get the way to help Zuko wrong - he didn't realize his nephew didn't believe he needed help. They were not on the same page at all, and that contribuited to Zuko betraying him.

Though, thankfully, it ended up being for the best, as Zuko found his own way to redemption by himself.

Conclusion

This fandom as a whole tends to not understand Zuko at all and just eat up a bunch of fanon while pretending to be so intellectual, which I very much resent it for.

#anti zutara #pro maiko #pro mai #zuko is not an awkward turtleduck

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farfromstrange · 10 months

Text

New Year's Day | Matt Murdock x Reader

Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Summary: You recount your history with Matt and the highs and the lows of your relationship.

Warnings: Fluff, descriptive writing & lack of dialogue, mentions of blood, but this is mostly very tame

Word count: 2.5k

A/n: This One-Shot is dedicated to my bestie, @blackshadowswriter. I'm a bit late, and I'm sorry for that. It took me a bit to finish. I just want to tell you how much I love and appreciate you. I also know you love Taylor, so I thought "why not write a fic and use as many song references as possible? She's going to LOVE that!" You're my favorite person in the world and you deserve this. I love you. I'm all out of words because I'm anxious as hell about showing you this. It took me two days to finish. I wanted it to be as good as I could make it. I'm still not 100% sure, but I never am when it comes to giving gifts. I hope you like it <3 (This is also why I'm not tagging anyone else because this is a gift for my best friend and I intended it as such)

From the moment you bumped into him on the corner street of your favorite café, you knew that he was the kind of chance that would only come around once in a lifetime.

It wasn’t like you, at least not back then, to buy a stranger a coffee. And it was even less like you to give him your number afterward.

You had never been big on dating at that point in your life. You used to take things exactly the way they came to you, and dating never really seemed to fit into that narrative.

You preferred to lose yourself in your own world, a world where no one could touch or hurt you the way you’ve been hurt so many times in the past by people who claimed to care about you—people who claimed to love you, and in the process, you lost sight of the fact that there are still a handful of good people out there.

No one can blame you for thinking like that though. Your heart has been broken one too many times, and not just by broken relationships.

Deep down, you craved to find someone capable of understanding all of you, not just the pretty parts. You almost felt pathetic for pretending you didn’t need it and still thinking that way.

But deep down, you craved to find someone who wouldn’t be afraid of sticking around, someone who would never leave you because life tends to get hard.

It seemed nearly impossible to find a person like that without breaking your own heart, so you decided to retreat into your shell. Better to keep your heart safe and protected than put yourself out there and be broken all over again, right?

Those stupid love songs on the radio and the endless romantic stories of your friends’ dating lives, however, fueled your need for the same kind of connection only a few songwriters know how to put into words.

You wanted to fall in love, find the right person, and heal. You wanted to figure out why love wasn’t like the burning red of sex and passion but golden, like daylight. A love living for. A love fighting for.

You felt so stupid, secretly pining for an innocent childhood dream that eventually got crushed after years of heartbreak, but that is what happens when someone becomes chronically lonely. You turned to daydreaming because at least in your head, your life could be perfect. Not just good, not just livable, but filled with love and happiness.

Truth be told, when you’re your own worst enemy and have an inner saboteur set out to destroy everything that could be remotely good for you because you truly believe you don’t deserve it, it’s hard to allow yourself to be open. So perhaps that is why you chose to lock yourself away and live in delusion instead. Not facing reality became standard procedure in your way of life.

You tried blaming it on your past, your broken relationships, and disappointments, and while that played a big part in your trauma, you also slowly started to realize that you might have been hurting yourself so you wouldn’t have to open up ever again.

In an attempt to erase all the problems, you became the problem. You became your worst enemy, someone chasing ghosts that stayed long in the past and only came back to haunt the living shit out of you. But that’s a survivable condition.

You tried therapy, you tried turning your life around and starting anew, and while that helped you find a job you love, find a nice group of friends, and make peace with what’s been broken, nothing else seemed to change.

You had barely started putting yourself back together again when you bumped into him. You were late for a meeting, so your focus was on your phone instead of the street before you.

It was your fault. He was just trying to make his way over the sidewalk, his cane tapping in a steady rhythm to make his way forward, and you stepped right in the middle of it.

You remember him grabbing your arm, catching you before you could fall. He wasn’t even irritated. When you looked up in shame, seeing the red glasses and the came, you begged for the floor to open up and swallow you whole.

“I’m so sorry,” you said. “I wasn’t looking. Are you okay?”

But before you could go on a rant about your stupidity, he cut you off, and in the silkiest voice possible, he said, “I’m fine. Don’t worry about it. Are you?”

“What?”

“Are you okay? You seem in a bit of a rush. Don’t want you to accidentally bump into a car next.” He chuckled, adjusting his glasses. Blood rushed to his cheeks. “That was a bad joke, sorry.”

You just about melted. “It’s okay,” you found yourself chuckling. “And so am I. I was too focused on my phone. That was my fault.”

“Don’t blame yourself. It happens,” he said. He was so calm about it, unlike other New Yorkers you’ve met before.

Maybe the fact that you found him extraordinarily attractive and easy to be around compelled you to ask if you could buy him a cup of coffee to make up for bumping into him, completely abandoning your plans to make it to your work meeting five minutes late.

He introduced himself as Matthew. A lawyer. Not one of those rich defense attorneys who simply do it for the money. No, he does it to help people, and you fell for him right then and there.

Maybe it was fate, maybe it was destiny, or maybe it was just dumb luck, but that day, when you got home after work, his number in your phone and a stupidly giddy smile on your flushed face, you knew that you’d somehow been enchanted to meet him.

You never believed in love at first sight until you bumped into Matt Murdock, but the second you did, your life flipped upside down and changed in ways you could have never predicted.

It is possible that the song playing over the speakers in the café right before you bumped him played a part in how you perceived the interaction. You’ve never been one to believe in coincidences. Nothing is ever accidental, and neither was your meeting. It couldn’t have been.

You found each other when you needed someone, anyone, both of you, and it stuck. Thankfully, it did.

Summer that year was cruel with New York drowning in an excruciating heatwave. You’d been meeting up with Matt for a couple of weeks, but you didn’t have it in you to put a label on whatever delicate thing was starting to build between the two of you. You didn’t want to wrap your hand around it and accidentally shatter something you could see growing into something more in the future.

He was unlike anyone you’d met before, and he treated you in a way that made you believe, finally, that you are worthy of love. Not just giving but receiving because Matt himself struggled to see his worth after years of being disappointed and being there for everyone but himself.

Love is a fragile thing though, and you have never been quite good with fragile things.

After a night of drinking away your sorrows at a nearby bar, you made your way to his apartment. You took a cab, too wasted to find your way there by yourself. You remember that you were crying; you were miserable and loathing yourself for several reasons that didn’t even make sense to you then.

When you arrived there, you knocked on his door. You didn’t get an answer. Just as you started to turn around and make your way back outside, you could hear a thud from the other side of the door. Panic settled in. You didn’t even hesitate before you opened the door, which was surprisingly unlocked, and made your way into the dark interior of his apartment.

Finding your blind, catholic not-boyfriend in a pool of his own blood, wearing a leather-clad suit with the horns of the devil had not been on your to-do list until that night. Reality hit you just as fast and knocked sobriety back into your senses as the adrenaline started to take over.

He let out a grunt. Your name passed his lips. He sounded so weak, so fragile, and you just stood there, your heart pumping too much blood for your body to handle.

“What the fuck?!” you said. You didn’t yell, you didn’t snap, you simply didn’t know how to process this information.

You were well aware of the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen parading outside at night, beating up criminals and giving them a good fright—Matt did not fit the picture you had of the guy until you saw him lying there, obviously injured.

“It’s not what it looks like,” he said hoarsely. He tried to roll over, but the pain turned out to be too severe.

Needless to say, he passed out on you without a proper explanation, and you somehow had to use what little you could remember from first-aid to help this bleeding mess of a man. You feared that you would lose him that night, and that was when you realized that, on top of falling for him, you didn’t care who he was, you only needed him to live.

When he woke up to you hovering over him, he groaned. “I’m sorry,” was all he said. “I’d understand if–”

“Don’t talk,” you cut him off with a finger on his lips. You wouldn’t let him push you away. Not after everything you’d been through.

He tried to sit up. “I didn’t know how to tell you.”

“It’s not exactly something you lead with on a first date. I get it. What I don’t get…”

“I didn’t lie,” it was his turn to cut you off. You remember looking up at him, and you heard him out. You had to. In your mind, there is an explanation for everything, and you were once again proven right at that moment.

He bared his life story to you, how he survived through tragedies no human should ever have to face. How he turned blind, how his senses heightened, and how he lost the one person he could always count on. When his father died, something changed in Matt. He tried to go straight, to do his father proud, but he couldn’t ignore this desperate need for justice forever. He felt cursed. So, he became someone who could make a difference, and not just as a lawyer.

He expected you to walk out, but you didn’t. You saw him for who he was, and you accepted him.

“I think I’m falling for you, and it scares the hell out of me,” you blurted out that night.

He stared at you, his unfocused eyes bewildered, his lips moving soundlessly as he tried to find an answer.

Just when you thought he would break your heart after putting your trust in him, he let out a shaky sigh and he kissed you.

He wasn’t ready to say it back just yet, but he spoke to you through actions that made you feel confident in what you were growing again.

You somehow already knew back then that Matt Murdock would be the man you one day would marry and spend the rest of your life with.

The truth is, you two have been through a lot throughout your relationship. It hasn’t always been smooth sailing, but you would be lying if you said that it wasn’t worth it.

From the moment you met him to the countless dates, sharing coffees over empty takeout containers, kissing in the rain, Daredevil, fighting over the beautiful women in his life that almost broke you, and fighting over his desperate need to push those away who only want what is good for him because he is own worst saboteur.

It all led you down a journey that turned out to be harder than expected and not at all the love story you envisioned, but it still turned out to be the best thing that has ever happened to you. He is the best thing that has ever happened to you.

You used to run away from happiness out of fear of getting hurt, and Matt did the same. He feared to admit it, but then he met you and he finally realized that running was of no use because you were more than ready to stick around through everything. Through every disaster and heartache—through every broken bone, you stuck around.

You saw something in him from the moment you met that no one can ever take away. You got a taste of heaven from the devil himself, and even though he was darker than the sunshine you wished for in your life, you managed to find a way to bring some light into his life.

You are sunshine, even on your worst days, and he’s midnight rain. But you love the rain. You love him.

Your first kiss happened in the rain. He took your hand and asked you to dance, and you did. You danced to the sound of the raindrops pattering against the asphalt beneath your feet, and it was the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen—Matt engulfed in the soft moonlight, his hand in yours, and a big smile on his irresistible lips.

You want more of those nights. Even the nights you’ve had to patch him up or hold him as he broke down from all the weight he often enough carries on his shoulders, you want more of those. You want all of them.

You want him and all the strings attached to him, no matter how painful because ever since he can remember, people have walked out on Matt and hurt him in ways you can only fathom. You don’t want to be that person.

He opened up to you. He decided to be vulnerable. He stood with you through everything and fought for you when you thought you two wouldn’t last.

He gave you his best smile and his tears, and he laughed with you every night that you waited up for him to come home safely. He quickly became the moonlight to your sun—it is a different kind of light, but it is a light that sustains you nonetheless.

You want all of his laughter and never miss it again. You want his smiles. You want his tears. You want to spend every waking second with him. You want to miss him and welcome him back home after an agonizingly long night of worrying. You want to cheer him up in court and be his lucky charm. You want to wear his initial on a chain around your neck, in Braille, because he got it for you on your birthday.

“I know I don’t own you,” he said to you, “but I love you. And I know you. I want you to carry me close to your heart the same way I’ll always carry you close to mine.”

And his, you are. You’re no one else’s but his, and even if that sounds a bit territorial, you don’t care. You want all of it and more because it’s Matt you’re talking about, no one else. Not a stranger but the man you love so desperately it hurts sometimes.

All the girls he loved before don’t matter because he’s got you now. You forgave him more times than he probably deserved. You held on when he barely had any strength left. In return, he has shown the same kind of devotion to you time and time again. How can you ever say no to any of that when you are so in love?

All those memories replay in sudden flashing sequences right in front of your inner eye. You love him more than anyone has ever loved him. You pulled him out of a very dark hole. You saved his life. And he saved yours.

As he’s kneeling in front of you now, your hand in his and clutching the small, velvety box in his other, your life passes by before your eyes. Your life alone and your life together. You recount every memory in a millisecond, too shocked to even comprehend what is happening. But it is happening.

Matt Murdock is kneeling on the floor before you, the glitter, confetti, and sticky champagne someone spilled earlier most likely leaving a stain on his good dress pants, but he remains unwavering in his decision to open that little box and show you what he’s been hiding for a while.

It’s a diamond ring, something he probably took months to save up for. It’s small yet elegant, and it’s staring right at you. He’s taken his glasses off to try and do the same. You would marry him with paper rings, that much is true.

Matt says your name oh-so-softly. “Will you marry me?” Four words that stop your heart and restart it at the same time.

He sees right through you. You see right through him. Even in your worst times, you were there for each other, and now he’s asking you to spend the rest of your life with him. Together. To give him all of your days and nights and he will give you all of his in return. He is asking you the question you’ve been wondering if he would ever ask it, and he did.

The fireworks go off in the distance, in your stomach, everywhere. The new year has rounded the corner. People are cheering and celebrating around you, but you don’t pay attention to them.

The clock strikes midnight and with the softest smile, you say, “Yes.” You don’t need to tell him that you would do it a million times over because he knows. He knows your heartbeat, and he knows that you would never lie to him.

He doesn’t waste time to pull you into his arms and kiss you softly, passionately, as if both of your lives depend on it.

It’s a bit cliché, to get proposed to on New Year’s Eve. To start the new year with the man you love and a ring on your finger. But that only means that you will still be together on New Year’s Day, and all the days after that.

Matt chose you. You chose Matt. You chose a life together that is as unpredictable as they come, but at least you have each other to hold onto.

And he will never be just the stranger that you bumped into in front of your favorite corner café ever again. You have him now. Maybe that was your plan all along. Maybe you are the mastermind he knows that you are. None of it was accidental.

And now, Matt Murdock is yours. Forever and always.

#matt murdock #daredevil #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x gender neutral reader #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock angst #charlie cox #daredevil x reader #birthday gift for my bestie #taylor swift references #song fic #new year's day #matt murdock imagines

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