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algae-tm · 8 months ago

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PEOPLE, PLACES, THINGS

Max Verstappen x anthropologist! Reader

Author’s note : this smau has a special place in my heart, if you haven’t noticed I’m not Caucasian, but was born and raised in Nigeria and a lot of my university life has been centred around studies of the black diaspora. My masters research is on homosexuality and Afro-syncretic religions, so have been trying to figure out how to incorporate it so thought I’d go full send and thus this was borne.

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peopleplacesthings just posted

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peopleplacesthings: I spent three years (give or take) with the people of the Bahia state in Brasil, researching the afro-syncretic religion of Candomblé. My research paper on the gender roles within Candomblé (how men express masculinity, and the role of women as spiritual leaders) will be published online where everyone will be able to access it. Can’t wait to see where the world takes me next!! 🌎🇧🇷

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yourbsfuser: y/n baby I love you and your big brain, but please take a sabbatical 😭. stay in the UK for a while.

— peopleplacesthings: what’s in it for me? 🤨

— yourbsfuser: seeing your family and friends???

— peopleplacesthings: sorry gotta blast, the world is waiting 🏃🏿‍♀️

user10: your masters research on the linguistic appropriation of AAVE was vital for me completing my dissertation! Thank you so much

— peopleplacesthings: passing down knowledge is the key to preserving culture! I love when I get comments like this, well done my love.

lewishamilton: so you’re free now?

— peopleplacesthings: until my next adventure

— lewishamilton: good to know

— user10: not SIR LEWIS HAMILTON in my old TA’s comment section

— user7: IK 😭 she was a guest lecturer at my uni like one month ago! Really my two worlds colliding 😭😭

— user8: how do they know eachother???

— user9: I’m guessing they must have met one of the times Lewis was in Brazil??

— peopleplacesthings: he is my cousin! he’s much older and way less attractive than me so that’s probs why you couldn’t see the family resemblance🙂🙂

yoursisteruser: 2 back to back research papers… you could use a break from work

— peopleplacesthings: it’s not work if you love what you do 🤗🤗

— user17: 2 research papers??? How old is she?

— user19: she’s actually done 3! One for her masters which was only 15,000 words and then 2 more, her 2nd was for her PhD and she’s published her last two as books. She’s 28 if I’m not mistaken. I’m not a stalker just obsessed with her work!

— user17: oh so she’s SMART smart

— user19: bro she’s DOCTORATE OF ANTHROPOLOGY smart

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peopleplacesthings just posted

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peopleplacesthings: I can check getting papped reading in the park off my bucket list… maybe I should start a book club! Anyways everything is a learning opportunity so I am currently reading Nervous Conditions by Tsitsi Dangarembga. Don’t be so surprised that I read fiction! Nervous Conditions is a valuable case study in cultural anthropology due to its rich exploration of themes related to post-colonial identity, gender, and cultural conflict. If you take my post-colonial anthropology module in September, this will definitely be on the further reading list. Come read with me! 📚 📚

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user1: are we sure this is the woman max is dating…

— user3: I was just wondering that, so out of left field 😭 😭

— user4: I mean what do they even have to talk about? She just lectures him all day?

lewishamilton: how can I take your class if I’m not enrolled in the university?? 🤨🤨

— peopleplacesthings: you can’t! Hope this helps

— user5: jeez she’s so rude…

— user9: who does she think she is????

— peopleplacesthings: Dr. Y/n Y/ln that’s who I know I am

user11: so is anthropology all she talks about, or does she have hobbies…

— peopleplacesthings: I happen to think my field of anthropology; the study of societies, people and culture, is quite interesting. But no I am a person I contain multitudes anthropology is not all I talk about.

user6: not y’all invalidating a woman with a literal doctorate just because she MIGHT be dating your fav… pls touch grass

— user13: that’s what I’m saying! If anything she’s WAY out of Max’s league, hasn’t he only ever read like 2 books?? (liked by danielricciardo)

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peopleplacesthings just posted

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peopleplacesthings: We DTR’ed!!

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lewishamilton: DTR?

— peopleplacesthings: Define the Relationship apparently

— lewishamilton: my how the tables have turned, miss I don’t date drivers.

— peopleplacesthings: DR* I don’t date drivers. And what can I say my commitment issues are no match for Max Verstappen

danielricciardo: you’re welcome!

— user4: what could you possible have done

— danielricciardo: I told max to grow some balls that’s what! I’m the architect of this relationship

— peopleplacesthings: you and Lewis can fight over that title

maxverstappen1: WE DTR’ED!!!!

— peopleplacesthings: hell yeah we did!

maxverstappen1: I love you schat ❤️💙

— peopleplacesthings: 🥹 I love you too

you doofus

maxverstappen1 just posted

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maxverstappen1: Did it hurt when you fell from your culture’s dogmatic view of an afterlife?

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peopleplacesthings: I think that’s the sexiest thing anyone has ever said to me

— maxverstappen1: there’s more where that came from

— peopleplacesthings: oh shucks not in public maxie

— danielricciardo: this is the weirdest foreplay I’ve ever witnessed

user14: how did a man that drives in circles manage to bag my anthro professor??

— user16: shouldn’t that be the other way round???

— user14: if you ever attended one of her lectures and saw her in action you would know the answer to that question is absolutely not (liked by maxverstappen1)

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@forevercaffeinated-lee

@callsignwidow

@a-beaverhausen

@emryb

@c0deincrazy

@dontworryaboutitokie

@c-losur3

@chuxk-lerclerk

@silkenthusiasts

@ietss

@sp1rl

#f1 smau #formula 1 smau #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #formula one smau #max verstappen x black!reader #max verstappen smau #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fic #max verstappen x female reader

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flawssy-227 · 27 days ago

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The Beginning | a Joel x Babysitter fic

pairing: joel miller x babysitter!reader

wc: 2.6k

summary: how you start babysitting for Joel and Sarah.

warnings: no smut, still 18+ pls!, no outbreak!au, Sarah lives!au, small unspecified age gap, longing, small feelings developing, mostly written in a couple of hours and poorly edited lol, moldboard was hastily created by me to reflect ~vibes~, not physical characteristics

a/n: s/o @saradika-graphics for the dividers. still dusting off the cobwebs, but thank you to everyone who read part 1 and left feedback. I think I will keep writing for this pair–– less of a 'series' and more so vignettes of their lives. feel free to lmk what you would like to see next. and let me know what you think :)

You rolled your neck slowly, trying to release the tension that had been building up the last few hours. You had been working at a bookstore in downtown Austin all summer, trying to get acclimated to your new city before you start your grad program and to help earn a little cash as a cushion–you knew you were about to be way too busy with long readings and lengthy essays to work the inconvenient shifts here.

It should’ve been an easy gig, working at an independent bookstore. You really thought you would enjoy it when you got the call saying you’d been hired. The hours were nice and the environment was warm, earthy and classic Texan. It got slightly busy on the weekends and in the evenings, and there was a small coffee bar that attracted teens and students alike. It would be totally fine if it weren’t for your dick of a manager, Todd.

He was in the middle of lecturing you about cleaning the espresso machine and labeling the milk, just for you to remind him that it wasn’t even your job, and that Erica, his assistant manager still hadn’t trained you on the bar, insisting that despite your previous restaurant experience, that operating the espresso machine was a little out of your wheelhouse. You tried to resist the overwhelming urge to roll your eyes at his droning when you saw a little girl with gorgeous curly hair walk into the bookstore alone.

You tracked her movements as she maneuvered around the store comfortably and found the history section, tactfully looking over titles before her eyes brightened in recognition as she reached for a hardcover that was comically large for her small hands.

Todd was still yapping in your ear, asking if you understood what he was saying, prompting you to let out a halfhearted yup and a silent wish he would leave you alone. You looked at him, offering a half hearted customer service smile, one that probably got you the job in the first place before mumbling something about restocking some returns.

You made your way over to the little girl who was now sitting in the reading nook in the back of the store, golden Austin sunlight highlighting her face.

“Hey,” you offered, making her look up. You notice how she cautiously tracked your face, glancing down at your employee lanyard before she relaxed the slightest bit. “What’re you reading?”

She lifted up the cover so you could see. “Hidden Figures.” She stayed silent after that, curiously waiting to see if you would speak more.

“That’s a good book,” you responded. “Ever seen the movie?”

My dad says I gotta read the book before I watch the movie,” she replied, eyes rolling the slightest bit, making you both giggle.

“Oh,” you laugh, “your dad is one of those?”

She nods eagerly, guards lowering a bit. “Used to not be,” the girl shrugs. “I got put into the gifted program for school this year though. Think he’s pushing me.”

Gifted made sense. What kid her age was comfortable enough walking into bookstores on their own to grab non-fiction history novels and talking to strangers? You sure weren’t that way.

“Where’s your dad anyway?” you finally ask. The store was surprisingly empty for a Saturday afternoon but you weren’t too keen on leaving a girl her age to fend for herself.

The little girl was just about to open her mouth before a man who appeared to be in his 30s stood before you both. You could see his chest moving up and down, like he had run into the bookstore and was trying to get his breathing under control. He looked upset and irritated and it immediately put you on edge.

“Sarah,” he hissed, completely ignoring you and looking at the girl you were chatting with. You assumed this was her dad.

“You can’t keep doing this,” he scoffed at her. “I told you we could walk in here when I finished up my errands. Stop bein’ so damn impatient.”

Sarah was completely unperturbed by his tone, essentially disregarding it. It was honestly comical how bothered he was and how little she seemed to care. “Sorry, dad,” she offered, a brilliant smile on her face, one you were sure got her out of trouble more often than not. “Just came to grab the book.” She flipped over to the cover, just like she did with you moments earlier. “Made a friend.”

At Sarah’s gesture towards you, her dad focused his attention on you for the first time since walking into the store. You offered a shy smile and stood up from the nook before you offered him your hand and introduced yourself.

“Joel,” he said back, eyeing you in the same suspicious way Sarah had when you first greeted her.

Some genetics, you thought to yourself of the similarity, but you tried not to let his intensity get to you. He was gorgeous, broad shoulders stretching indecently across a threadbare grey t-shirt and big hands tucked coolly in a perfectly worn pair of Levi’s. His brown eyes were intense on you, making you avert your gaze as you felt heat creep across your cheeks. Dammit, he was attractive.

“I was just keeping an eye on her,” you offered, not getting a response in return. “I should, uh, get back to work,” you respond after a minute, the stare and silence from Joel just a bit much to handle. “Enjoy the book,” you say to Sarah, before walking away and trying to remember what the hell you were supposed to be doing.

“C’mon hon, VIP section right here!”

You had let your roommate, Avery, convince you to go drinking with her tonight. You’d been in Austin for a couple of months but you hadn’t gone out too much. Instead, you were focused on your annoying little bookstore gig and working through the massive reading list you were assigned before you started your first semester. Plus, outside of Avery, you didn’t really know anyone in Texas.

You looked at what she had just referred to as the ‘VIP section’ and scoffed. She wasn’t too specific when she invited you out tonight, but looking at Avery and her trendy gold jewelry, slinky outfit and YSL purse, you thought you might be going somewhere a little bit nicer than the sticky dive bar you were currently in.

You scoffed and swiped the crumbs from the cracked leather booth before you slipped in. “Some VIP,” you mumbled.

Avery quirked a smile at you. “What was that? Austin’s latest transplant isn’t a fan of what we have to offer?”

You rolled your eyes at her goading. Despite not hanging out much, you did really enjoy living with Avery. You had been randomly placed together via some roommate matching app and you were surprised at how it had worked out so far. She was clean and respectful. She was out a lot, but never really brought the party home. As far as you knew, she was Texan, born and raised, but this girl was bougie. She did barre classes in the mornings and wore designer pieces to work. You just could not understand why the hell she dragged you to this dive bar.

“No,” you scoff. “Just wondering if this is the place you’re always raving about.”

She hummed quietly, like she had a secret she couldn’t wait to spill, before a cute server came by to grab your drink orders. You finally took a look around the dive, disregarding the kitschy and chaotic decor that has probably been here since before you were born, noticing the patrons. Mostly men, a mix of what appeared to be the most attractive male models cosplaying as blue collar workers and others who looked like they were just in an episode of Yellowstone. It was kind of insane, you’d never seen this many attractive men in one place before. You got it now.

Avery is almost giddy as she watches you take in all the guests. “See anything you like?”

You both laugh. “Okay,” you sigh. “I might understand why you like this place so much.”

“Not only is everyone here so fucking hot,” she giggled. “But the drinks are sickeningly cheap.”

You and Avery were having too good of a time, laughing and tipsy enough before you made your way to the pool table, convinced you wouldn’t embarrass yourselves. A few guys had checked the two of you out, another anonymously even bought you a round of drinks, but no one actually came up to either of you to speak. It was mildly disappointing but you suppose that’s what the apps are for.

Avery was focused on lining up her next shot when someone put two quarters on the table. “I got next,” he smirked.

He fit in exactly with the other patrons of the bar. Tall, dark and handsome. He actually looked a lot like the dad you met at the bookstore the other day. Just leaner, with longer hair and–

“Here’s your beer, Tommy.”

Your breath hitched at the sight. There he was. The dad from the bookstore. Joel. He looked the same, just a little more flushed, like he had spent all day in the sun. He finally looked at you and froze before quirking a small smile in your direction.

Next to you, Avery squealed and embraced the man who had just claimed the pool table.

“Tommy!” she exclaimed, letting herself be picked up and spun around. “Missed you,” she said as she nuzzled herself into his neck. You focused your attention on the two of them, trying to convince yourself you didn’t feel the heat of Joel’s stare.

How the hell did Avery know these guys? You were looking at her quizzically, trying to remember if she ever mentioned a boyfriend to you, just as he set her down. Avery reached for you without fully releasing her hold on the man.

“Babe, this is my friend Tommy and his brother, Joel.”

You shook Tommy’s hand and then did the same to Joel. “Nice to meet you,” you said, giving each other a knowing look.

After a round of pool where you and Avery quickly lost against Tommy and Joel, the two of them offered to grab another round for everyone before they disappeared for a while, leaving you and Joel tucked into the same cracked booth where you started the night.

It wasn’t uncomfortable, being left to sit next to Joel while Avery and Tommy did whatever it was they were doing while they should’ve been grabbing your drinks. He had been funny during pool, a little different than the concerned and irritated dad you met over the weekend. You couldn’t help but notice how relaxed he looked when he smiled. Beautiful, really.

Trying not to stare too long, you broke the silence. “So,” you offered, “how long do you think they’ll be?”

Joel chuckled dryly, rubbing a hand down his face and glancing to the bar. “Well,” he took a sip of his beer, “I wouldn’t hold my breath waitin’ for those two to come back. ‘Specially since they ain’t nowhere near the bar.” He smiled at you, and dammit if it didn’t make your heart beat a little bit faster. “You’ve known Avery for long?”

You shook your head, taking a small sip of your drink just to give yourself a distraction. “No, I just moved in with her like two months ago. Actually moved to Austin two months ago. Brand new.” You smile shyly at his appraising gaze.

“Well if there’s anyone to be a part of the welcoming committee, it’s probably Avery. Swear that girl knows everyone and everything in this town.”

You laugh at that. “Yeah, I’m kinda getting that sense.” You took another sip of your drink. You were happy you didn’t have to work the opening shift tomorrow with how strong and cheap these cocktails were. “Maybe she can help me find a different job.”

“Really?” Joel asked. “Not likin’ the bookstore?”

You shook your head no, offering him a half hearted explanation about your manager being a bit of a prick and the hours not coinciding with the school schedule you just got. “But it’ll be fine. I just have to be patient and wait for something that’s a better fit.”

Joel nodded, trying not to be obvious as he watched the way your lips pursed around the little black cocktail straws, or how you let out a happy sigh at the sweet taste of the mixer. He thought back to how Sarah kept mentioning how nice you were when they left the bookstore Saturday, asking him why he wasn’t nicer to you, why he had been so stand offish, and then promptly adding that he should’ve asked for your number, much to his chagrin. She had been really wanting him to start dating again. He had to give it to his daughter, you were really pretty, gorgeous even, and definitely sweet. Smart too, if you were going to graduate school at UT. Sarah had a better understanding of his type than he did. But he didn’t have time to date, not right now. He and Tommy finally started their own contracting business, and between liability insurance and taxes and 1099s and the customer service aspect of it all, he had been swamped and a little overwhelmed, if he was being honest. He could use some help, personally and professionally. He only came out for a drink tonight with his brother because Sarah was sleeping over at a friend's house.

He paused for a moment and thought about how he was going to need a little more assistance with Sarah at the start of the school year. He knew some of the other parents at her school had nanny’s who did the pickups and drop offs that were at incredibly inconvenient times to anyone who actually had a job. He had been reliant on his mom and some of the parents of Sarah’s friends to help him pick up the slack for far too long. He decided not to think too hard and just ask. He needed help with Sarah. You liked Sarah. Sarah liked you. That’s all this was. Definitely no other reason he was even considering this.

“You know, Sarah really enjoyed talking to you.”

“Really?” you ask, smiling at the memory of his daughter from your brief encounter. “She was really sweet. Smart too.”

“Yeah, listen, I could use some help with her starting in a few weeks.”

“Oh yeah?” you questioned. “What? You want me to babysit?”

He smiled bashfully at you. “Honestly? Yeah. She liked you, a whole lot, and I could use the help a few nights a week,” he shrugged, taking another pull of his beer.

Would you ever consider, uh, babysitting?” The worst you could do is say no, he figured.

Your face turned in surprise. You were intrigued at the idea of seeing Joel again, but this wasn’t exactly the context you had in mind.

“Babysitting might not be the right word for it. Maybe, more like a nanny,” he added. “Only if it works with your school schedule,” he said finally, trying to read your expression as you thought about his offer.

You couldn’t help but feel a bit disappointed that he didn’t ask you out for dinner or at least a coffee. Babysitting. You could use the money though, and something a little more flexible than the bookstore. And hanging out with Sarah while you did your readings for school didn’t sound too bad. Why the hell not?

You smiled up at Joel, brown eyes peering into yours. “You know, me and Sarah will probably gang up on you, join forces and take over your house.”

Joel grinned at the idea, flashes of you in his house, acting like you owned the place with Sarah smiling next to you filling his head. “I won’t mind darlin’. I won’t mind at all.”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller au #joel tlou #tlou fic #joel miller fanfiction #fic: Joel miller x babysitter #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedrostories #joel miller x you #joel miller

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luvvixu · 8 months ago

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mind over matter pt. 4

synopsis: witness how your marriage was bound to fall apart with you on the front seat and your husband gojo had missed the show—now, he gotta figure out the story on his own.

content: arrange marriage au, angst, husband!gojo, mean!gojo, mention of blood, strong languages, some unsettling scenarios, emotional trauma, read at your own risk

a/n: ok, im such a bad author now huhu, i always broke my promises about updating the new chapter :((( should've just wrote in advance but i'm afraid i don't have that enough free time oqsjjanswjaj anyways, here's the anticipated chapter!! THANK YOU FOR Y'ALL PATIENCE <3 MWUHEHEHHEEHHE

previous / masterlist / next

the next day comes and you've got yourself some visitors. megumi, yuuji, nobara, maki, and inumaki was in your room and they were all seated around you as you talk.

panda and your two third years were not around at the moment because this is a non-sorcerer hospital and people would freak out to see a big ‘talking’ panda. during your two third years, they were out of town and were on a mission but they still text you to get well and even send you some fresh flowers.

“wait, i still can't believe that he's your husband.” nobara couldn't explain his shock at the revelation. out of all, she didn't think that her goofy teacher was someone's husband.

you chuckled at her reactions as you turned your gaze on megumi, who's still his mouth hanging. “megumi, i thought you're getting a hint?” you tease the boy. although it was true, you actually thought he already had an idea because you've known him for almost his entire life and even once lived with you as a kid.

“no…” was only his answer.

“so, gojo-sensei was the one you're talking about when you said that he was a busy man. most of his job requires being out of town. but he never fails to shower you with love and he is making sure that you two would still communicate despite his busy schedule?” your eyes widened when yuuji literally just said what you had said from before, word-by-word!

“i—i supposed he is.” everyone in the room sweat dropped at your answer.

what do you mean you supposed?!

“y/n-sensei, is it okay if we ask your baby?” maki chooses the gentlest approach because she heard that post-pregnancy can make the mother quite crikey, sensitive, and is prone to depression. but to her relief, you respond to her warmly.

“oh, the baby is being treated since they're premature. i really can't wait to meet them once i get better. but right now, shoko was the only one who had seen my baby.” you smiled softly at the thought of your baby.

“gojo-sensei still hadn't seen the baby?” maki’s eyes went wide.

you nodded. “yeah, he said we should go together so i must heal quickly for that to happen.”

the door suddenly opened and it revealed your husband with food in his hand. you smiled at the packages not because you're hungry, but because you had finally persuaded satoru to go out and leave you even for just a few minutes.

how did you do it? well, you just give him an earful after what he did yesterday night and he's like;

“i don't know how you did it but you should've just gone to the convenience store or the hospital canteen just for an oatmeal and eggs. and look, i'm not upset over the fact that you just had the ‘very easy to get’ food delivered on this doorstep. what concerns me is you seem not to trust me very well to handle myself— well in fact i've been doing it since i was a kid and blah, blah, blah, blah…” it was your turn to yap but a little longer than he did. you even probably bought up some of his minor mistakes like not taking out the trash on random sunday night.

and he was like, “i'm sorry. i won’t do it again ( •̯́ ^ •̯̀)”

“y'all done backstabbing me?” satoru teasingly smiled at you all.

“oh, we're just getting started. so why don't you take a seat and hear us out?” you patted the empty space of your bed beside you.

satoru playfully huffed and gave the foods to his students and let them distribute it themselves. sitting beside you, he gave you the separate plastic with food and helped you feed yourself. the two of you had your moment with you telling satoru to just let you be and stop feeding you like a kid, but satoru was like nuh uh—and it goes on and on.

meanwhile, the students watch you two with surprise in their eyes. they still couldn't digest the fact that you two had managed to hide your marriage for like five years or so. and out of all spouses out there, they couldn't believe their eyes that you married a guy that is a total opposite of you.

“i still cannot really believe that you're married and have a baddie wife.” nobara almost never tears her gaze towards you two.

“yeah, much more is that they look so in love!” yuuji agrees to what nobara said as his words made you two stop bickering instantly.

like a cold water being poured, you two were suddenly experiencing a reality check that this so-called in love was very far from the two of you actually is. coughing slightly to hide his awkwardness and nervousness, he just let himself chuckle. while you? you're an expert at this, you maintain a smiley expression and wordlessly (and also forcefully) agrees to what the boy said.

“oh my, do we?” putting a hand on your cheek, you smiled with your eyes closed. your act looks so legit but satoru has seen this multiple side—he knew this facade was all fake.

maki suddenly puts herself into attention by calling your name. “anyway y/n-sensei, i've noticed you two don't have a ring—” before she could even finish her sentence, you already beat her to it.

“that's because the two of us, mostly him, are constantly fighting curses and both involve using our hands when we use our techniques. it would be risky to wear it and we're scared that we might get it lost or damaged.” you explain meticulously.

you watch the students agree to your explanation, while satoru is looking at you with meaning. you stared back at him too, hoping that he would get your telepathic message.

“alright guys, your y/n-sensei needs to rest now. we'll just see you guys soon or you can all just drop by tomorrow after your training.” satoru called everyone's attention by clapping his hands then started to playfully shoo the students.

you watch them pack their things and wave you a happy goodbye, in which you return their enthusiasm as well. when they all left, you let out a sigh and started to gently lie your body on the bed. satoru, who was done cleaning just now, sit at the end of your bed and carefully massage your legs.

“did you have fun with them?” you just lazily hum at his question and proceed to rest your eyes.

“i…i'm surprised you managed to convince them about our marriage.” satoru continued quietly.

opening one of your eyes and looking at him, you said, “of course, i've been doing it to a lot of people for the past five years.”

that alone made him shut up.

satoru looked down to his hands, which were still busy massaging your legs. you've noticed that his eyes were casted down and his behavior was somewhat familiar to you, he's feeling something that is related to guilt and regret.

clicking your tongue, you're in no mood to deal with his behavior today. so to find a solution to this problem, you just put yourself to sleep and let all of this just go on without a single care.

it has been two days and you're getting better day by day. today was probably the bestest day so far because you're about to finally see your own baby!

“calm down, mama. do you want your stitches to open again?” shoko holds your knees to stop it from shaking anxiously as you were currently sitting just right outside the neonatal intensive care unit (nicu) where your baby was.

you understand that the doctors need to prepare the room first before you all come in, but you wished that they speed it up.

“but sho, i'm finally seeing my baby!” you squeal at your friend who just ruffles your hair and tells you to be patient—in which you definitely can't.

meanwhile, satoru, who was standing beside you while you and shoko were sitting together, has been eyeing you since this whole waiting. he understands that you're excited about seeing the baby because he is too, he is excited. but he couldn't help but to feel a sensation that you would rather share your excitement with others than him.

he knows that he sounds ridiculous and undeserving to say that in the first place after what he did to put you through, but he still couldn't help it and he wouldn't even dare to say it to you.

the door of the nicu just opened and it revealed the doctor who was wearing protective gear to keep bacterias and viruses from entering the room and harm the baby. before he lets you all in, he first instructs you all to change the same gear as him and then proceeds to give you all some explanation in which you actively listen and take notes.

and after that, he finally lets you go inside.

the moment your eyes traveled on a crib, you saw your child laying down there with some breathing apparatus that is connected to their little body. you could feel your eyes swell with hot tears as you inch yourself towards the bundle of joy who's their crib was also protected with glass and only small holes on both sides were there.

satoru and shoko watched you with pure warmth at your sight—it was a nice scene of mother's love. finally, a tear escapes your eyes the moment you get a whole view of your child.

“isn't he pretty?” shoko said beside you, someone who you didn't notice had come near you.

you gasp, “he? m-my baby is a boy?” your cries go even harder, but it was just pure happiness. you couldn't bring yourself to tear your gaze away from your child even though he looks fragile for being premature but you love him dearly.

“can i touch him?” you look at the doctor who assisted you earlier without caring that you might look like a crying mess. you're far more thrilled to be with your child than to be pretty at this moment.

the doctor smiled at you and he agreed. he pointed out the small hole on the side, telling you to stick your hands out to feel your baby. you do what he said with your shaky hands, and when your fingertips touch his warm skin—you feel like you could die from the burst of euphoria.

“my b-baby, my baby is n-now here!” you really can't hold your emotions back as you keep on passing your fingers through your baby's arm until it reaches his closed hands where you slightly and gently open it for him to grab index finger. and when he does, your smile becomes even wider.

“hi baby~ this is me, your mommy. it's so nice to finally see you.” you whispered softly, hoping that despite the glass, he could hear your words.

this is the bestest day of your life. your baby was here and that's all you need.

the scene continues to unfold with you still getting emotional and shoko was just watching you with a smile on her face. while satoru, the father of the child, the husband of the mother, was a little distant but he could still see the baby. he was all quiet and couldn't bring himself to utter a word but he's not speechless.

his eyes behind those glasses were trailed on the child, but most of his gazes were on you. satoru watches you become all smiley—this is probably the happiest smile he had seen on your lips for the past years of your marriage.

and he would absolutely never forgive himself if he breaks it—but he already did.

shoko notices his odd behavior and promptly leaves your side for a while (but you're busy having a baby talk with your baby to notice her leaving) to go talk to him.

“what? you're just gonna stand there and watch y/n?” yup. still the same as before, hostile towards the man. satoru let out a sigh and didn't give her attention. instead, he walked towards y/n and just focused on his family.

“you’re so tiny!” you continue to cooed at your son who keeps on moving slightly which is a good sign that your son is responsive and fighting. you also noticed that satoru was now right beside you and is looking at your son too with adoration tinted in his eyes.

“i don't think i could let myself be away from him anymore.” you said. your cheeks were now hurting from constant smiling but you don't mind.

satoru only looks at you briefly because his attention was now on his son, fully. “hello, it was nice finally meeting you.” his eyes trailed on his own flesh and blood with the most care of all.

on the other hand, you're not dumb to not notice that satoru was acting hesitant towards this scene and you knew what his reason was. you think that satoru thinks that he was undeserving to be here, and you're correct about his assumption.

but as a woman who grew up with an experience of being inside a shattered family, you absolutely would not want that to happen to your own child. and as much as you would also like to satoru be away at least for now because you're still that sensitive about what he had said during those conversations in the clinic and hallway, you respect his role as a father.

you'd give him a chance to prove his worth as a father to your child, but he's far worse to have a chance to prove his worth as a husband to you. if he messes this up real bad and without any proper explanation, this will be all over—satoru would no longer have you and your child as his own family.

“stick your hand on his hole, that way you could feel him.” you guided his hand towards the hole that you had said before and watched his hands turn shakey as he reached for the baby.

once satoru had finally experienced a skin-to-skin touch with his baby, he wanted to cry so badly but he didn't allow himself to, at least not yet. he felt like this was one of the best moments in his existence.

satoru would like to punch himself for questioning the baby for his plans as he seemingly thinks it would affect him. but just when he look and touch his baby, all of his recollection about the mixed emotions he felt when the baby is on the board has suddenly vanished and it was replaced with gratefulness and adoration for both of you.

it was like a full 360 degrees turn was done after the early birth of his first born. plus, he had seen you be ever so happy that you are with him. and deep inside him, satoru deniably hopes that this kid, this child, can at least help him save this marriage that was destined to fail and doomed.

because he now finally realizes that you're slowly wrapping him around your tiny fingers.

your tears had made him be a better person, your recent experience had made him behave. it almost cost you and your baby's wife just for him to realize the importance of your five years of marriage, and he's planning to tell you that soon.

“have you finally decided what name we should give him?” shoko asked you and she didn't fail to see your eyes sparkle at the mention of name.

ah yes, baby names.

that was something that a mother and father should decide together because it comes very crucial because the name that your baby will get is a symbol of you two's relationship. but the thing is, you and your husband hadn't talked about a single thing or just anything related to this matter.

that's probably why you're still embarrassed whenever you think about nanami accidentally seeing you open a website into one of the school's computers about unique baby names with its meaning.

you're four months pregnant at that time and you're spending your free time in a teacher's lounge. you're very invested in your mini research to the point that you didn't notice an old friend peeking at your screen. you actually only notice his presence when you're about to stretch but accidentally bump his torso, and to your surprise, he was there.

and then the rest becomes a story and history. nanami helped you pick baby names for both genders or even unisex until you came out with…

“kazuki. let's name him that.” a soft smile was decorated on your lips as you watched satoru, who's looking at you, plays with the hands of your son.

“kazuki…that's a nice name, y/n.” satoru said happily. however, you can see his disappointment behind those words and you know why. you didn't even invite him to search for your baby's name because why would you?

“does it have any special meaning?” shoko asked you.

you nodded and said, “of course, kazuki means hope of peace—and i really need that.”

taglists: @mistymuii @kalopsia-flaneur @sherryuki-callmeyuki @aish777 @tttttttf @slyhersophia @rirk-ke @labelt-san @shinruo @testrella @sad-darksoul @kurookinnie @mountvesuvu @chwesuh-imnida @cole-silas @elernity @maddie-jayne @yozora7154 @kawaiivillainess98 @forourpoets @aishies-stuff @numblytemporary @souyasplushie @catarinemirandax @aerithsthingss @h1gh4ru @ssetsuka @jskodn @khoiyyu @the2ndl @vebbiewuzhere @kouyoumarryme @dreamyescapesfromreality @local-mr-frog @haesify @blkmystery @bleppt @leavem3al0n3 @arminloverlol @megumisthirdog @shirabane @sheismaryy @tragicgirl444 @vampsins @miizuzu @kurobo @anxious-chick @p1nkliquor @mshitachin @chxrv @lolsasuke @username23345 @netyxms @lvstru @roscpctals99 @buttermilktea11 @berenevenstarzetaestelar @jiupark @hotsauce247 @veryverysadauthor @skepticalleo @opentheyoor01 @slowlyshycomputer @babybarbs12 @thickemadame @yaninnaacu @foggypostshark

[part 5 will be just there right around the corner — ©luvvixu2024]

#gojo satoru #anime #gojo satoru x reader #fanfic #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you #gojo x reader #luvvixu #jjk gojo #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru angst #satoru angst #gojo angst #jjk angst #angst #arrange marriage

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subcultureblues · 3 months ago

Text

Don’t You Want Me (Baby?) Pt 3

———

Steve and Eddie are either hooking up or dating - and are about as bad at keeping a secret as they are dealing with their feelings. (Dustin POV)

1 / 2 / 3 / 4

———

“I’ll be there in thirty!” Dustin said. He slammed the phone down and dashed to his room to round up his notes.

“Bye mom love you gotta go!” He shouted as he hustled out the door and jumped on his bike. Dustin had just made it out of the suburbs and into town when he spotted a familiar Maroon Beemer in the lot by the Quickie Mart.

Steve was standing beside his car in a fluorescent windbreaker, leaning on the open driver’s side door. He was staring at the bouquet of flowers in his hands like his nose was about to start bleeding.

Dustin slowed.

….He could probably spare a few minutes to see what the hell that was about.

Really, it’s been a while since Dustin made peace with the fact his curiosity would almost invariably get the best of him.

“Hey Steve!” Dustin hollared, dinging his bike bell a few times.

Steve startled, comically jerking to attention. Steve was a thoroughbred jock, also his head had been knocked around a lot. He could be ever so slightly air-headed at times. But that really didn’t usually extend to a total lack of situational awareness.

Steve waved at Dustin as he approached.

“Why are you angry at those flowers?”

“What? I’m not - “ Steve cut himself off with a sigh. He shot the flowers another grimace. “I’m just trying to decide if I’m being a total idiot right now…”

Ah, Dustin realized. Must have pissed off Robin.

“What happened?”

“I fucked up, I think. And flowers, that’s my go-to right? That’s the move. But…” he tapped above his temple with the side of his fist - as if to dislodge the stupid. He rested it there for a second. “I can’t help but think I’m becoming totally neurotic.” He said, vaguely concerned.

“Girls like flowers.” Dustin offered a simple shrug.

“Yeah, girls do.” Steve agreed. Then sighed again, shaking his head.

Jesus, he must be gone bad.

And Dustin likes Robin. More importantly, he liked her for Steve, they were a perfect match. But most importantly of all - if Steve fucks this up, Dustin spends the next who knows how long listening to him complain about his endless strings of unfulfilling dates.

“And red roses? Can’t get more romantic than that, right?” He said, trying to sound encouraging.

“You don’t think they’re… I don’t know. Lame? Christ, what the hell am I even - I have no idea what I’m supposed to be doing here.” Steve said, sounding totally defeated. He dragged a hand through his hair, pulling it back off his forehead. “Never mind forget it. Just, forget I said anything…”

“Who even is this guy? Your Steve.” Dustin scoffed. “Legendary lady killer of Hawkins High. Remember? You’re great at this.”

““Yeah, that’s different though. I guess... I don’t know.”

“Different how?” Dustin demanded.

“How about because this is important. That’s how!” He said.

“Ok? That’s a good thing, Steve.” Dustin said, which even to his own ears sounded just a little bit condescending. Maybe he did need to work on his tone…

“Is it? The last time I really thought there might be something there, it was Nancy. So of course, I manage to fuck the whole thing up. Because that’s my thing I guess.” He deflated. Then quietly, as though speaking to himself, he said. “Things were going so good too… I just had to start a stupid - “

He finally looked back up at Dustin. He closed his mouth and the far away look cleared. He shook his head, like was done thinking about it right now. Or at least done talking about it because he said,

“Henderson, what are you doing running around this early anyways?”

“Pft, what are you doing running around this early? You and Eddie. I’m surprised you’re not sleeping off your… illicit activities.”

Steve made a face. “No. Don’t call it that. I - we… called it an early night last night.”

“Figures. I’m headed to Eddie’s right now.”

“Ah...” He muttered to himself. He looked down at the flowers again and his shoulders wilted. Then he chucked them into the the passenger seat.

“Woah, man, careful with those.” Dustin scolded him.

“No, it’s fine. Look, I gotta go pick up Robin soon. We have a shift together later. See you around, man.”

Dustin frowned. Why were adults so goddamn weird? Is Dustin gonna start acting like this in a few years.

“Good luck.” Dustin offered, tilting his head optimistically. Steve just waved him off, still very obviously distracted.

“Yeah, I’ll figure something out.”

Dustin watched him climb into his car. Steve would figure it out. Dustin had faith in that, at least. He could have a thick skull, but give him enough time and eventually he got it together.

Steve drove off and Dustin started pedaling again, in the opposite direction, towards the Forest Hills trailer park.

Dustin was at the trailer almost till dinner time, fine tuning what will soon be the very first one shot, nay the very first D&D session Dustin will ever orchestrate. He can’t help violently oscillating between excited and nauseous, but Eddie’s advice genuinely did provide a solid foundation to work with.

Eddie even assured Dustin he’d act just as shocked as the rest of the party, gasping during the big moments. Stuff like that - even though he knew pretty much every story beat he had planned just from helping Dustin sort it all together.

They were just packing up to leave when the phone rang.

“Shit. Give me a sec. That’s probably Wayne.”

“He’s not at work?”

“A buddie’s house. He got the weekend off.” Eddie said, picking up the receiver.

“Munson’s Mortuary Services. You got the purse, we got the hearse. Are we picking up or dropping off, cause - ” Eddie cut out mid bit. He grimaced, looking back at Dustin. “I - uh, hey. Look this really isn’t a good - “

Dustin was only really half ease dropping as he tried to order his session notes correctly. Eddie was talking quietly for the first time in his life, holding the receiving close to his mouth, which was making it kind of difficult.

“No, it’s fine… I’m serious, it’s fine. Yeah, I’m sorry too…. Well, I was being an asshole. Look this really isn’t a good time…” Eddie glanced back over his shoulder at Dustin. Dustin tried to look busy. “Just, don’t worry about it, seriously…. Yeah. Sure, talk to you later, ok?” Eddie started to move the phone away before bringing it back to his ear.

“This week? I’m not sure… Maybe. I’ve just - I got a lot of stuff going on… I’ll call you… Yeah, bye.”

Eddie hung up, hand lingering on the phone for a long moment.

“Who was that?” Dustin asked, so casually it was probably immediately suspicious.

“Funny how you think I won’t make you walk home.” Eddie said, a bone dry threat. That roughly translated to, it was definitely totally my secret girlfriend. “Pack your shit, dude. I’m calling Wayne so you better be ready to go by the time I’m done.”

It seemed like Eddie took it to heart what Dustin said about them never hanging out anymore. That week, Eddie really seemed to be making an effort to start making time for him again.

And the rest of the party of course.

On Monday, Eddie suggested Hellfire (plus Max!) hit the arcade after school. He didn’t give them any quarters, but that was fine, they had enough loose change to have a good time. They’d just need to plan ahead and bring Steve next time.

After school on Tuesday, Dustin called to see if Eddie wanted to keep working on the one shot. Which he couldn’t cause Corroded Coffin had band practice.

So instead, he invited Dustin tag along. It came with the strict stipulation he kept his mouth shut, his ass glued to the couch, and he not try to touch anything, on pain of a swift and merciless death. But Dustin’s come to understand Eddie’s threats have a lot more to do with his penchant for dramatics than any honest hostility.

Eddie was just heading out the door when Dustin called so he said he’d come grab him from his place on the way to Jeff’s.

Dustin thought for a moment about changing out of his pun-derful shirt but ended up scrapping the idea for time.

He kind of regretted it when Eddie rolled up. Music loud and looking, as always, too cool for school. Summer was still fading, so he was wearing a loose, faded Cult shirt with the sleeves cut off. He had more tattoos than Dustin realized (all of them ugly.). There was a red flannel tied round his waist and he was wearing a thin leather bracelet.

Dustin couldn’t pull off a leather bracelet in a million billion years probably.

“Little mans sitting in on practice tonight.” Eddie announced as they walked into Jared’s garage. He got a scatter of hey’s and what’s up’s.

Dutifully, Dustin belined it for the couch. He sat next to the plastic Halloween skeleton that was already sitting there posed to watch (Dustin was introduced to him as Manny).

Eddie seemed to switch into DM mode, someone had to keep the boys focused and on track.

Dustin sat still and didn’t touch anything, which was easy enough.

But come on, their music was way too awesome for a passive listening experience.

Gareth, Jared, and Jeff seemed to appreciate his enthusiasm. Still, Dustin made sure to keep distractions to a minimum. A reasonable minimum, at least.

“God, you guys are just so - “ Dustin rambled. It had gotten dark outside and they were started to pack up their gear.

“Metal?” Eddie said, winding up his guitar chord with a smile.

“Metal as hell.” Dustin agreed, standing and walking over.

“We’ll make a public menace outta you yet.” Eddie said proudly.

“You can always bring the kid around more during practice.” Jeff said to Eddie. The rest of the band nodded around and shrugged.

“Actually having a live audience every once in a while couldn’t hurt.” Gareth said, nodding his head at Manny. Him and Jeff were dragging his drum kit back into the corner of the room.

“Yeah?” Dustin asked, grinning.

“Maybe you’ll pick up a thing or two.” Eddie grinned back, shoving at him a bit and fucking up Dustin’s hair.

“You’d teach me?” Dustin asked, swatting him away. Eddie shrugged easily.

“Oh man. That’d be so cool!” He said. “Maybe next time I could bring some of the other guys? Oh, and Steve could come too!”

Jared practically choked on his instant laughter.

“The King?” He said sarcastically. “Yeah, sure - you wanna bring King Steve here, to sit on the ratty couch in my garage and listen to us thrash around and scream for a few hours?”

“I dunno, could be pretty entertaining.” Gareth elbowed Jeff, nodding down towards Eddie. He was on his knees, focusing intently on tucking his Warlock away in its hardcase. Gareth leaned in closer and whispered. “He’s getting a little too cocky with those guitar solos, don’t you think? Could use a chance to play under pressure.”

“Oh, that does sound entertaining.” Jeff snickered, just as amused by the prospect.

“Can it.” Eddie said, without looking up.

“Eddie?” Dustin insisted, looking to his DM for backup. They were talking like Steve was gonna march in here and just start heckling. Or throwing tomatoes at them or something.

“Sorry kid, they’re right. He’d probably hate it.” Eddie shrugged.

“Come on, it’ll be cool! I could at least ask? You don’t know he’ll hate it.”

“Yeah, I’m sure Steve Harrington would think our heavy metal band is so totally cool.” Jared said flatly, as he leaned over to grab the handle on his bass amp.

“Hey. I saw a Metallica tape in his car the other day!” Dustin said to Jared. Jared’s eyebrows climbed, surprised. Maybe even a little impressed, though clearly too stubborn to admit it.

Dustin turned back to Eddie. He was still expecting him to come to Steve’s defense. But he stayed quiet, barely a part of the conversation. “Come on, I thought you two were friends now.” He accused.

“Sure, Harrington’s fine.” Eddie shrugged.

“Yeah he is.” Jeff muttered under his breath. Gareth puffed up with a badly contained laugh.

Eddie rolled his eyes.

“Right, you blow us all off to go to go smoke weed with him at the drive through, but he’s just fine.”

Jared, who had been bending over to put his amp against the wall, froze in place.

“No fucking way.” Gareth’s head shot up, his eyes blown wide. But it didn’t sound like he was pissed at Eddie for crossing party lines. Not with the massive, disbelieving grin on his face. “You and Harrington? You fucking took him to a drive through?”

“What movie was it?” Jeff shot out, equally delighted.

“Was it a scary movie?” Gareth said. They both scrambled out from behind the drum set, their task wholly forgotten.

“Guys.” Eddie huffed. “Fine. Yeah, ok, we went to go see a movie - So what?”

“And you just, what!? Forgot to mention it?”

“Sure!” Eddie grimaced. He shrugged defensively. “We just - caught a movie. It’s not a big deal.”

Gareth barked out a laugh. Like that, that right there, is the funniest thing Eddie’s ever said.

“Guys.” Jared looked at Jeff and Gareth pointedly, before glancing at Dustin.

“Sorry it’s just…” Jeff paused with his mouth open, incredulous. “Didn’t know you guys hang out now.” He finished. “Ya know, outside the whole - coparenting.”

“We don’t.” Eddie said, tensely.

Dustin frowned as he watched the guys continue to stow their shit. Gareth and Jeff went back to sorting out the drums. “Not a big - “ Gareth scoffed under his breath, shaking his head in disbelief.

The rest of the boys were struggling to contain shiteating grins and Eddie was just pretending not to notice.

Dustin had never known these guys to be such… jerks. Why would it be such a big deal if Eddie and Steve were friends?

Could it really be all because they’re just so - different? The idea of hard rocker Eddie kicking back with a jock even once was just patently absurd? Ridiculous enough they jump straight to teasing him for it?

Dustin’s frown deepened. For a bunch of freaks, that all seemed pretty judgmental.

These guys would come around on Steve. Seems like Dustin would just have to make sure of it.

On Thursday Eddie agreed to pick him up from school.

He was late of course, so Will, Mike, Lucas, and Max had all started towards home by then.

When he did roll into the parking lot, it was in a sweeping wave of orchestral heavy metal.

“Pick it up.” He said impatiently, as Dustin opened the door. Eddie evil eyed the school building while he turned down the music. “Don’t like being here any longer than I need to be outside D&D hours.”

Dustin hopped in. He had a VHS copy of Jaws in his hands. He had left it behind at Lucas’ like two weeks ago and promptly forgot about it. A week later Lucas brought it to school and Dustin had only just re-unearthed it from his locker today. It was daunting just thinking of the fees that were sure to be stacking up by now.

His only salvation was Steve. Who’s thankfully working today.

“I need to drop this off at the movie store and before you say no - “

“Sure.” Eddie said, already starting the van.

“I - that was easy.” Dustin sat back and relaxed against the seat.

Eddie kept his eyes on the road and shrugged.

“I was thinking about renting something anyways.”

They drove straight to Family Video. The door dinged as they walked in.

Robin was sitting behind the counter. Still focused on her crossword she said, “Hi, welcome to Family Video, can I help you find - Oh, hey guys.”

“Hi Robin!” Dustin said, walking up to the counter.

Eddie lingered by the displays. He traced a finger over one of the tapes on the shelf. “Harrington, here?” Eddie asked, inspecting the cover.

Robin rolled her eyes but she was smiling. “You just missed him. It was seriously slow today and he won rock/paper/scissors so - he clocked out early for the day.” Eddie hummed and put his hands in his jean pockets.

Dustin handed Robin his VHS tape.

“This is eight days late.” She frowned at the computer.

“So - “ Dustin said, thinking fast to distract her from errant thoughts of late fees. “how’d you like the flowers?”

“Flowers?” Robin scrunched up her nose at him.

“The flowers Steve got you?” Dustin blurted out before he clamped his mouth shut again. She squinted at him. Suspicious.

“What are you on about?”

Shit. Steve hadn’t got those for Robin had he?

“Nevermind.” Mayday-mayday. Pull up!

Hopefully Steve wasn’t too pissed at Dustin for letting that little detail slip. And Dustin could barely feel bad for blowing Steve’s cover because, what the hell Steve?

Robin’s lip twisted. She looked down her nose at him, regarding him uncharitably. He forced a smile as she stared him down for a moment longer. Then her face cleared. Raising her eyebrows innocently she turned back to the monitor.

“So about that fee. That’ll be five fourty-“

“Ok! I - “ Dustin hesitated. Sorry Steve - that was five dollars he really did not have. “I don’t know. I ran into him a few days ago. And he’d just bought a big thing of roses.” Dustin caved, shrugging and holding his palms up defensively.

“Ooooh.” Robin’s eyes crinkled with a warm smile and her gaze slid somewhere behind Dustin shoulder. Then quickly snapped back into place.

“Oh.” Robin said again. She looked baffled, like the implications of that just hit her and clearly didn’t sit with her right.

“Maybe they were for his mom? His parents are in town aren’t they.” Dustin offered.

“You know what? Yeah, that’s probably it.” Robin nodded vigorously. The poor, love struck girl just immediately latching onto the explanation.

“Nah.” Dustin turned around to look at Eddie. He was still feigning intense interest in that copy of An American Werewolf in London. “His mom is allergic to roses.”

“That doesn’t mean he - ” Robin scrambled. “Maybe he just… forgot, or something. I mean, you know Steve. Total ditz.”

He shrugged. “That’s fine isn’t it?”

“Yeah. I mean, yeah.” Robin said cautiously. She seemed confused more than anything.

Eddie said cooly, hands still in his pockets. A perfectly neutral smile on his face. “Steve’s a free agent, right? He’s free to play the field.”

Jeez, did Eddie have to be so blunt? What ever happened to letting a girl down easy?

“Uh…” Robin said, looking between the two of them uncomfortably. Like maybe she didn’t quite know the answer to that anymore but it was also something she really didn’t want to sort out in public.

Dustin honestly felt a little bit bad for her. Sure they both always say they’re not dating, but clearly she seemed none too thrilled at the idea of Steve going around giving another girl flowers.

Dustin had hoped with the way Steve was talking the other day, he had finally got his head out of his ass and was ready to go public and make them official.

“Hey, man, I’ll meet you in the car, yeah?”

“Sure.” Dustin said.

“Eddie - “ Robin said. Eddie looked over his shoulder, lingering half way out the door. Robin glanced at Dustin. “Uh. Bye.” She finished lamely.

He smiled at her. She didn’t smile back.

Robin went back to the computer. She worked in complete silence. Suddenly the thick clack of the keyboard and the low murmur of the movie on the screen in the corner were way louder. Her brow was set like it gets when she’s stuck on a troublesome crossword.

“Sorry.” Dustin said, his face twisting up with guilt.

Robin glanced side long at him.

“I can talk to him you know.” He said.

“Huh?”

“I can talk to Steve. He shouldn’t do that to you.”

“Jesus, for the last time. We - are not - dating.” Robin said through gritted teeth. She made a frustrated noise. “Do you have to be so… ergh, meddlesome.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about?” He lied, taking a step back.

“You need to stay out of your friends love lives.”

Yeah well, how about Dustin stops meddling when his friends stop being so dumb about everything. Till then they’ll just have Dustin to thank for sorting out their messes.

Tag List : @reading-archieves @homoerotictangerine @bingbongsupremacy @aroseandherthorns-blog1 @wheneverfeasible @travelingtwentysomething @ineffable-monster-romancer @laughingphantoms @gregre369 @rawrx3ky-txt @thespaceantwhowrites @blcksh33p1987

@the-legal-shipper @maverickricky @i-amthepizzaman @pretend-theres-a-name-here @steddiefication @that-one-gay-crow @gleek4twd

@theintrovertedintrovert @tinyplanet95 @queercrisis2003 @awkwardgravity1 @stripey82

@sofadofax @midnightskeeper

@blurryjoji @estrellami-1 @caraspud @little-trash-ghost @finalmoondragon

@samsoble @depressed-freak13

#steddie #Steve Harrington #Eddie Munson #steddie ficlet #stranger things #dustin henderson #god I love Dustin. what a troublesome bastard #just bamboozled it all up huh?#also just like for clarity. No i Do Not think Steve is dumb #unfortunately Dustin’s fatal flaw he much learn to overcome in this story is #much like Odysseus before him #hubris. so he thinks literally everyone is a little bit dumb it’s called characterization look it up sweaty #also pls accept my humble offering of Personal Corroded Coffin Group Dynamic Headcanon #because I’m friend w a bunch of boys Eddie’s age and whenever I read stories w/ CC they’re not loud enough #and like. of course. of course their gonna tease Eddie about his dumb hate crush on Steve he’s had since literally forever #my headcanon is Steve was regularly brought up by the CC boys because it was the ONE THINGs #like since waaay before Eddie started hanging around the party #and it’s only gotten 10000009% worse since him and Steve started coparenting #god they’re so annoying #and I love them so much 😭#mine

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demonic0angel · 1 month ago

Note

When the bats finally met Pup, they instantly get kicked out of the room. Dani roped Jason into helping her revise her final collage essay thats do by the end of the week. She's stressed to tears. She thought she was almost done. Then Jason witled her 8 page rough draft down to 2 pages, and she needed 10 pages to turn it in. Jason’s not trying to make the assignment harder for her, but, like her template, Dani is bad at literature arts.

(Adjusted this ask a lil)

“Hood!” Pup said, perking up like her name’s sake when she saw him. “I need your help!” She was completely surrounded by Red Hood’s siblings, who sighed as he approached. For a moment, he despaired over the fact that his siblings all knew where his base was located, because now they kept coming to bother them all and suck up to Pup.

Still, he quickened his pace to hurry over to Pup and help.

“I can help you!”

“No, I can!”

“Whatever you need, I can—”

Red Hood tried not to laugh as Pup shoved away his noisy siblings and dragged him to the door. He was unceremoniously pushed into Wolf’s office before Pup slammed the door shut with a groan. There was still the sound of yelling and complaining through the door, but they were wise enough to disperse quickly.

“Why are they so obsessed with me?” Pup whined. She walked over to the desk set up next to Wolf’s and sat down with a huff.

Red Hood noticed Wolf sprawled over the couch, her jacket and elbow protectors taken off and draped over her. Red Hood took off his own jacket and dropped it over Wolf’s prone figure. She made a muffled noise through the helmet, which was probably incredibly uncomfortable, but didn’t move to take it off, instead just turning around to curl up underneath his jacket.

Red Hood tore his eyes away from her and looked at Pup, who was extremely unimpressed, judging by her posture.

“Anyways,” Pup drawled before she remembered that she needed help and she hurriedly said, “I need your help, Hood.”

“Sure,” Red Hood said, walking over to her. “What’s up?”

“I have an essay about Antigone and I have to compare it to another classic. It’s due by the end of the week and I only have 2 pages written. I can’t figure out what to compare it to or how to lengthen my essay.” She wrung her hands at the end of her explanation.

“Did you read the book or any of its translations?” Red Hood asked.

Pup nodded, “I read the original. I can understand Ancient Greek, y’know.”

Red Hood blinked. Then he shook his head to himself. Of course. How could he forget that Wolf and her siblings were all weirdly Robin-like in their eclectic experiences and skill set? “Alright. How about Romeo and Juliet to compare?”

Pup sighed. “Everyone else is choosing that. I want to be different.”

Red Hood grinned. He knocked his knuckles lightly against Pup’s helmet to show his fondness and laughed. “Good! You gotta show them who’s boss!” He paused and then thought about ideas.

Pup tapped uselessly on her computer, also thinking of another book to compare it to.

Red Hood finally said, “The story of Antigone has themes of sacrifice, love, and duty, as well as respect to the natural order. The main argument of Antigone is that natural law and fate triumphs over man and human actions. If you want to use another classic to compare it to, I would probably suggest the Odyssey, which also tells a story about how higher powers can affect the will and lives of mankind.”

Pup paused. Red Hood nodded absently to himself and continued, “For a modern story, I’d say anything with themes of free will and the illusion of choice with a lot of tragedy can suffice. Maybe Macbeth? To lengthen your essay, how about using your translation of the original Greek story to compare it to other translations and how that can also change the meaning when it relates to other classics or stories? Maybe you can tie it back to how the meanings of certain things can be interpreted wrongly, like how prophecies in mythology can get misinterpreted and then causes disaster with something about free will and inhuman forces again? Or just use your word count to describe moments in the story. It’s what I did when I was lazy and I got As for it. Just make sure you tie it back to your thesis.”

Pup stared at him. Red Hood stared back. Had he said too much or something?

Then Pup leapt forward to give him a fierce hug. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! You’re the best! I know what to do now!”

Red Hood felt his face flush and he patted her back awkwardly. He looked over her head (which wasn’t difficult to do because she was short), and saw Wolf stir and sit up slightly, leaning against the arm of the couch to blow him a small, sleepy kiss of gratitude for helping her sister.

His face turned even hotter.

Damn them both. He was turning soft.

#dpxdc #dcxdp #dp x dc #dc x dp #danny phantom x dc #dp x dc crossover #ask #jazz fenton #anon ask #jason todd #dani fenton #dani phantom #dani is pup au #assistant jazz au #anger management ship #hardcover ship #jason x jazz #ty for the ask <3 #my literature nerd is showing with this ask istg

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brbsoulnomming · 3 months ago

Text

Heart On Your Sleeve Part 9

written for steddiebigbang2024 and belatedly posting here!

-----

“I owe you an apology,” Eddie says as they're picking their way through the woods.

“For what?” Steve asks.

Eddie kicks a pinecone. “For last summer.”

Huh.

“You don't owe me anything,” Steve returns. “But if you want to give me one, I'll take it.”

“Just like that?”

Steve looks up ahead, sees Dustin has stopped and is fiddling with his malfunctioning compass, and slows to a stop himself, leaning against a tree. “How about an explanation, instead of an apology?”

Eddie grimaces. “Can't I just tell you I'm really, really sorry?”

Steve raises one eyebrow at him.

Eddie kicks another pinecone, then flings himself on the other side of the tree, leaning against it with his shoulder almost touching Steve's.

“I got the wrong idea about something, and it freaked me out. Then I was pissed at myself for getting the wrong idea, and then I just - I ran, Steve, okay? In case you haven't noticed, it's clearly what I do.” His voice tremors there, just a little, at the end.

“Swap?” Steve asks, out of instinct.

Eddie shifts to look at him, brows furrowed. “What?”

Right.

Shit.

“Never mind.” Steve shakes his head. Okay, he doesn't need Eddie's heart to do this. He can still read him pretty well, he thinks, as long as he doesn't think too hard about how he apparently didn't read him as well as he thought he did last summer. “Eddie, shit, if you hadn't run when you guys got attacked you'd be dead, too, and I'd…”

“You'd what?” Eddie prompts after a moment.

“I'd hate to see Robin kick your ass, because I promised her that she could if you broke Dustin's heart.”

Eddie just looks at him, and Steve thinks - huh. Maybe Eddie doesn't need his heart to be able to read him well, either, even if there'll always be a part of Steve that still wants to give it to him.

“I'd be pissed at both of us.” Steve bumps their shoulders together. “I should have kept watching out for you.”

Eddie scoffs. “I made it pretty clear I didn't want you to anymore. Besides, it was never your job.”

“Yeah, well, I wanted it to be.” He pauses, then figures, whatever, it's Upside Down shit again, he might as well. “I want it to be.”

Eddie's expression goes a little more serious, a little softer. “...still?”

“Still,” Steve confirms.

Dustin gives a triumphant exclamation and starts forward again, so Steve gives Eddie one last look before he pushes himself off the tree and keeps going.

—

Eddie hovers by his side in the Upside Down, nervously rambling about Ozzy and metal and -

And Steve only kind of gets it, but Eddie's still nice to him as he explains it.

Even after everything, he doesn't try to make him feel stupid.

Steve watches his lips as Eddie talks, something about Dustin worshiping him and how Eddie wouldn't have come in after him because he's the kind of guy who runs, and - wait.

He reaches out, grabbing Eddie's wrist and tugging him to a stop.

“Whoa, hey, you gotta cut that shit out. You looked at yourself lately?”

Eddie blinks at him. “No mirrors in the Upside Down, man. Not any ones that I want to look into, anyway. Besides, I probably look like a drowned rat.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “You're hot and you know it, don't change the subject. Come on. You stayed with us here, and you jumped in after me - no protests, man, whatever you thought about doing, you jumped - and you hit demon bats with an oar. You're not running now, are you?”

Eddie swallows, staring at him. “No. Guess not.”

“Good. Now come on, we gotta catch up.”

It isn't until they make up the distance between them and Robin and Nancy, and Steve lets go of Eddie's wrist to join them that he realizes he'd been holding it this whole time.

He shoots a look over at Eddie, who ducks his gaze, cheeks a little pink.

Huh.

—

Eddie sits in the front seat next to him, in their stolen RV.

Steve glances up in the rear view mirror to meet Robin's gaze, who mouths big boy and wiggles her eyebrows at him. Steve rolls his eyes, then looks back over at Eddie.

“You okay?” he asks.

Eddie gives a short, humorless laugh. “Am I supposed to be?”

Steve reaches out, bumps his knuckles against Eddie's knee. “You know what I meant.”

Eddie stares down at Steve's hand, but his leg stops shaking, so Steve doesn't move it. He thinks about asking if Eddie wants to swap hearts, so he doesn't have to talk about it, but - Eddie hasn't even wanted to show his heart to anyone, and Steve doesn't want to put anymore pressure on him.

They don't end up saying anything else, but Steve keeps his hand there, and Eddie doesn't look as tense, and it - it feels like something settles between them.

It gives Steve hope.

—

After the War Zone, Dustin and Lucas swap hearts. Or - swap back, Steve realizes as he gets a closer look at their hearts as they exchange them.

He's guessing that means Dustin hadn't swapped with him before the game, but at least they did now, and he exchanges a smile with Robin.

Eddie's noticed, too, apparently, because he's gaping a little at them.

“What was that?” he demands.

Dustin waves his hand dismissively. “It's a Party thing,” he says, dripping with condescension.

“Again with the tone,” Eddie mutters, making Steve snort.

Steve claps him on the shoulder, fingers curling absently around the back of his neck as he gives him a little shake. “It's always better not to ask,” he tells him. “Either they'll be little shits or you'll get suckered in, too.”

Eddie huffs out a little laugh. “Speaking from experience?”

“Unfortunately,” Steve replies, as dry as he possibly can.

He realizes he's still holding onto Eddie, thumb stroking absently over the spot behind his ear, and he winces internally at himself.

Before he can pull away, though, Eddie mutters, “Fuck, okay, I just - I gotta know, man, is this - it's on purpose, right? Did you really spend half of last year making a move on me?”

Steve goes still. “Well, yeah, but if you have to ask I'm starting to think I didn't do a very good job.”

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Eddie makes a noise that sounds like a whine, dramatically doubling over before sprawling on the ground. “I'm an idiot.”

Steve spends a moment doing the mental work of shifting things around a little, then lets himself feel all the affection come surging back up and sits on the ground next to him. “I mean, I didn't know what I was doing, either, but I kind of thought you caught on at least a little.”

Eddie groans. “I did! I just kept going are you seriously wondering if the king of Hawkins High is spending his senior year hitting on you, is this the new fantasy you're actually entertaining and then I freaked myself out about it, and then I got hopeful, and then I called you and convinced myself I got the wrong idea, then I crawled off to lick my wounds and by the time the little shrimps started talking about you and I realized I actually got the wrong idea about you and Robin, it… it'd been too long, you know? I couldn't figure out how to face you. I figured it was too late.”

Steve doesn't know what to say to that. It's close to what he'd assumed happened, what he'd already forgiven Eddie for and moved on from, but he hadn't counted on what sounds like Eddie actually returning his feelings. This whole time, he thought it was him - that he came on too strong, like he always does, that he wanted more than the other person had to give. It feels surreal, trying to reconsider every moment between them.

“Did you want me back?”

It takes a moment for him to recognize his own voice, and realize that he was the one who asked it.

Eddie's lower lip trembles a little. “Shit, Steve, of course I did. Am I - am I too late?”

Steve holds off his immediate reaction to take a moment to think about that - about how he's changed since last summer, the future he's looking for, what he wants.

“No,” he says, confident and sure. “You're not too late.”

Nancy calls for them, and as much as Steve wants to keep going, he knows this is too important.

“Can we talk about this after?” he asks.

Eddie swallows. “Yeah. Yeah, I'm sticking around this time.”

—

When they have a minute alone, when everyone else is outside the trailer - Steve crowds Eddie up against the wall and steals a kiss, sharp and fierce and far too short for his liking.

Eddie looks at him when they break apart, wide eyed and dazed.

“Jesus,” he mutters. “How am I supposed to concentrate on Master of Puppets now?”

Steve laughs, kissing him again, just because he can. “I believe in you,” he tells him.

—

Steve hates their plan more as they all start to split up, but it's the only one they have. He tells Dustin and Eddie not to be cute, not to do anything to deviate from their role - wishes he could do more. His heart feels heavy and tight and suffocating in his chest with every step as he walks away.

“Hang on.”

He turns on his heel, taking his heart out of his chest as he walks back.

"I'm trusting you with this," Steve says, handing Dustin his heart.

Dustin scoffs. "Of course you are. You've been doing that since I was thirteen," he retorts, like that wasn't less than two years ago.

Still, Dustin's hands are careful as he scoots his own heart over a little to make room inside his chest for Steve's. Steve can feel the echo of Dustin's heartbeat as his beats alongside it, once again in unison.

When he looks up, Eddie's gaping at him.

"What?" Steve asks.

"You just. What the hell?”

“I told you,” Dustin says, as superior as ever. “It's a Party thing.”

—

Shock and pain and fear cuts through the triumph he feels when Nancy shoots Vecna out the window, sharp enough that Steve gasps.

“What-” he starts, then realizes the moment he says it. “Dustin.”

Oh, shit, it must be bad if he's getting Dustin's feelings - he doesn't have Dustin's heart, so he shouldn't be picking up anything that isn't all consuming.

“Go,” Nancy orders, sharp and quick.

“We've got this,” Robin agrees.

Steve's gone without a second thought, taking the stairs two and three at a time and flying out the door. He runs - faster than he should with his injuries, faster than he thinks he's ever run before. He doesn't know if it's his own heart calling to him or if it's Dustin's panic, but whatever it is pulls him in the right direction.

Until he's on his knees in the dirt, Dustin begging him to help and Eddie's gasping, breathy wheeze echoing in his ears.

Oh, God, this is bad. He wants to deny it, wants to pick him up and carry him out anyway, but Eddie's not going to make it like this. He needs to do something, he needs -

He needs Eddie's heart.

“Eddie,” Steve gets out, sharp and firm. “Eddie, hey, hey, look at me. I need you to open your chest, now.”

“Gonna steal my heart, Harrington?” Eddie says with a grin, his voice thick with the same blood that's staining his teeth.

Steve tries to control his emotions, so Dustin won't feel the echo of fear and grief - or the tiniest flutter he knows his heart must give at that.

“No,” Steve replies. “But if you let me have it, I'll protect it.”

Eddie's grin slips, and Steve watches the way he swallows, how his hand shakes as he fumbles to get his chest open.

“It's all yours, Stevie,” he manages to get out.

Normally, Steve'd wait until Eddie took his own heart out before doing anything, but they don't have time for that now. He sticks his hand right into Eddie's chest, pulling it out and shoving it into his own without even looking at it. Pain and terror nearly overwhelm him when he closes it up, but there's - there's something like satisfaction there, too, something like pride.

I didn't run.

Steve sucks in a ragged breath, gets his hands under Eddie's knees and back and hauls him up. “I've got you, Eddie, okay? I got you.”

“Always got me, Stevie,” Eddie mutters into his neck.

There's something else, there - affection and trust and longing and everything that Steve's been hoping to feel for a while, just not like this.

Not like this.

“Let's get him out of here,” he tells Dustin, who scrambles to lead the way back to the nearest gate.

This is already written, and my plan is to post one part a day until it's all up here! Just one more part left after this.

-----

Part 10

Taglist (always happy to add more to this if anyone wants): @fairytalesreality @lostonceandneverfound @wheneverfeasible @awkwardgravity1 @theintrovertedintrovert @thewickedkat @ravenfrog @scarlet-malfoy @missmagillicuddy @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @ollyxar @cringe-culture-is-dead-99 @thedragonsaunt @makewavesandwar @cryptid-system @ajeff855 @mae-liz @the-fantastical-asexual @jettestar @warlordess @persnicketysquares @samsoble @my-love-of-books @mydysfunctionallife @dreamercec @holyangelstudentuniverse @breealtair @shunna @xtraordinarally @thatdamnfan @justalittledrainbamage @strangerfolks @disrespectedgoatman @amber-ambience @anxietyfulloption @thepossummoldypasta @irregular-child @th30ra3k3n @powdeeee @theohohmoment @5ammi90 @ominous-pool-light @beeeeeeeeeeeeeeens

#steddie #steve harrington #stranger things #eddie munson #steddie fic #robin buckley #dustin henderson

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megistusdiary · 10 months ago

Text

i have a vision i need you guys to see.

2000s!arle who's looking to get some sleeve fillers. her bandmate, tartaglia, recommends her to try this new shop. he told her the artist is "insanely talented," so she figures, why not?

(longer post/nsfw utc - tw smaller reader, transfem arle mentions)

when she walks in, she sees you sitting on the counter, legs swinging as you greet her.

"hey, welcome in. what can i help you with?" she watches you hop down off the counter, now having to look down at you given your shorter stature.

you don't look like you have many tattoos at all, funny enough. doesn't look like you really belong in a place like this, but she thinks you're a pretty cute counter-girl.

"i'm looking to get some sleeve fillers, sweetheart." she leans down over you, a hand on the wall by your head.

"go figure." you snort and she's a little taken aback.

"you're a little fiesty thing, huh?" she asks and you tilt your head. she cuts you off, waving her hand. "anyways, i'm thinking of adding onto my sleeve." she rolls up her shirt, flexing her bicep for you.

"do you have anything specific you want?"

"i have some ideas." she shrugs, leaning back to her full height with a smug little grin. "so, there an artist back there?" she gestures to the back of the shop.

"actually-"

once again, she cuts you off. "my friend said-" she takes her phone out, flipping the lid open and showing tartaglia's message with the artist's name on it. "she works here. you know her?"

you blink at the phone being shoved in your face, but you laugh anyway. "oh, really? you're looking for her?"

"yeah, what about it? is she shitty or something?" she doesn't seem to notice your half-annoyed eyeroll.

"nothing. i'll go set you up in the room." you tug her along, grabbing the consent forms and other things she'll need to fill out. "here, fill these out." you sit her in the chair, handing her the clipboard.

"aw, won't you stay with me? i get nervous when the ink comes out." she sends you an almost sleazy grin.

"oh, i'd love to, but i can't." you feign a pout. "gotta go get the artist." you grin and escape the room quickly, leaving her to her own devices.

she fills the papers out easily, having done so before many times.

she hears the door click, seeing a taller woman covered in tattoos walking in and setting up. she collects the paperwork from arlecchino, checking through it.

"cool, the artist will be in shortly."

arlecchino tilts her head. "it's not you?"

the woman arched an eyebrow, shrugging, closing the door again and leaving arlecchino in silence.

she looks around the room, hearing the door click open after a few minutes. "finally-" she turns around to see-

you?

she stiffens in the chair. "you're joking, right?" she asks with a laugh.

"what's the problem?" you scoff, sitting down on the chair next to the tattoo bed. "you don't trust me?"

"you don't have a speck of ink anywhere on you. how exactly am i supposed to trust you?"

"your friend seemed to think i was 'insanely talented,' right? do you trust him?" you counter and she bites the inside of her cheek.

she stays quiet while you set up, showing her some of your designs, which she picks from to fill in her sleeve.

she sits still the entire time, feeling your gloved hand on her skin. you look small next to her, cute, she thinks, and-

"stop staring at me." you cut her thoughts off without even looking away from her arm.

"can't help it, sweetheart." she quickly covers and you sigh. she grins mischievously up at you.

you set your gun down, grabbing her jaw and tugging her up to meet your gaze. "don't call me that. watch your mouth." you suddenly snap, your cute little aura gone, replaced by something darker.

it only makes her breath hitch, feeling your fingers on her jaw. "oh, little kitty has claws." she taunts and you scoff, leaning in.

your lips graze the shell of her ear and she shivers. "don't talk to me that way, or i swear, i'll have you on your fucking knees begging me for forgiveness." you mutter.

she isn't sure if it's a real threat, but the change in your tone is enough to have her nodding regardless. her mind is filled with thoughts of you, riding her, a hand on her throat as you control the pace.

you see her hardening beneath her jeans and you arch an eyebrow. "you're pretty pathetic for a flirt." you snap.

and she swears she could cum right then and there from just your gaze.

too bad you go right back to tattooing with everything re-sterilized.

damn.

#genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader smut #fem reader #genshin wlw #arlecchino x reader #arlecchino smut #arlecchino #arlecchino x you #💐─𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘴 #🪷─𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘴 `♡´

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marvellous1917 · 1 year ago

Text

Icarus Falling Far.

(Part 3)

Pairing: mob!bucky x tattoo artist!female!reader

Summary: it’s the day after giving the dangerous mobster his first tattoo, and he hasn’t contacted you yet. What a dick.

Warnings: cursing, crime, mentions of guns, stalking/harassment (brief), think that’s it.

Word count: 3.6k ish

A/N: i had no plan to make this story into a mini-series, so if this seems a little unplanned… it is. Anyway, hope you like it my loves 😘

(This is not beta’s so any mistakes are my own)

Part 2 ⬇️:

———————

Bold is readers thoughts

Italics is Bucky's thoughts

This starts in Bucky’s POV.

———————

His home office was always the place he went to feel at peace. Ironic really, considering the dealings done within the room. The walls had seen him order his men to assassinate his rivals, to eliminate anybody that got in their way. The desk had felt the tip of the pen write extortionate contracts, sent silently to some of the cities most powerful people, the non-explicit threat sent with photos of their family’s, to reminds them what they were risking if they refused to comply. The window that felt the full strength of his prosthetic too many times to count. The hole in the floor after one of his employees managed to literally shoot himself in the foot. {guess who}

But his peace was teetering on a cliffs edge. His hands were woven into his hair, pulling to try and alleviate the headache forming. Elbows resting on his desk as his eyes stayed staring at one specific groove in the wood.

A knock at the door broke his trance and he sighed. It was a rule in the Compound that if the boss was in his office and the door was closed, you do not interrupt or enter unless there was an emergency. Only one man was brave enough to completely disregard Bucky’s rule, which had led to some… interesting situations when Bucky had girls in there with him.

“Come in,” he called, knowing the longer he waited to respond, the louder and more incessant the knocking would become.

The door opened and there was Bucky’s very own personal dumbass: Steve Rogers. The man had been a part of Bucky’s life since as long as he could remember, if-fact some of his earliest memories were with Steve; young boys playing cops and robbers together, attempting to protect Steve when he picked a fight he had no business being in- which had led to Bucky getting his ass beat as well, and scheming together about how to make sure that Simon Justin never played baseball again after pulling his sisters hair on the playground.

“Fuck me Buck, I’m not sure if today could have been anymore fucked,” Steve stated as he collapsed on to the couch, flinging his legs over one arm and resting his head in the other.

Today was a stressful fucking day.

It was the day that Bucky was making all necessary moves. Why all the problems had to pop up now, he wasn’t sure. And the kicker to this awful day? He had no time to talk to you, the girl he could not get out of his head, no matter how hard he tried. You’d managed to flood his mind, memories of the kiss you shared playing over and over again.

“Did you close the door?” Bucky asked, not moving an inch.

“Yeah.”

“Good because I do not need anyone else talking to me right now,” Bucky said, his voice low and quiet, an air of danger ever-present in his tone.

“C’mon Buck, y’know you love them,” Steve responds with a dopey little smirk on his face, and he tilts his head to make eye contact with the man he calls his brother.

I hate that fuckin smile.

He softly hums his agreement and returns to inspecting the groove on his desk.

“We just gotta talk it out, figure out what the fuck is going on, then plan our next moves accordingly,” Steve says, swinging his legs back to the floor, hands clasped together, his arms leaning on his knees.

“Yeah thanks man, I didn’t think about figuring everything out, maybe I’ll give that a go now” Bucky retorts with weak sarcasm, mind too busy, replaying the events of the day.

“I can leave you alone to get lost in your head, or we can figure this shit out together. It’s your call jerk.” Steve says, tilting his head down to catch Bucky’s eye.

“Alright.”

“Stop pulling your hair jackass.” He adds.

I hate it when you do that.

Bucky drops his hands to the desk and says, “Ok let’s start this debrief with Walker.”

“Nat’s got his ass tied up in the basement for ya, he’s ready when you are.”

“Anybody looking for him?”

“One frustratingly loyal friend, but he has no idea that Johnny-boy is with us. The rest of his little fan club have no idea he’s even missing.”

“Ok, one problem down. Rumlow?” It’s the question he doesn’t want the answer to. He’d much rather spend his time thinking about you. His history with Brock Rumlow was bloody and painful, for both of them. There was only one person from his past that Bucky hadn’t dealt with, and here he was, coming back to ruin the name Bucky had made for himself.

Rumlow knew things about Bucky’s past that made him a a high security threat, but after he failed to blow himself up in an attempt to kill Bucky, he had disappeared. Bucky thought it was finally over, but the asshole popped back up about a year ago, with more power than before, making himself seemingly untouchable by Bucky’s hand.

“Currently moving like he has been, not causing too much trouble for us, though his crew are getting closer and closer to our dealings at the port.” Steve said, a slight look of digits on his face.

“Put extra hands down there for the next couple weeks, see if we can’t scare them off a little.”

“Yes boss. I’ll let them know after this.”

“The commissioner’s dealt with?” Buck asks, remembering the deviation the man had decided to make.

“Yep, send him that gift basket. He called Sam this morning and agreed to our terms.”

“Good. How’s Barton?” He asks, moving into what they class as ‘personal business’.

“Pissed, man. He wants blood for what happened, we all do.” Steve answers, the memory of seeing Clint covered in blood and bruised made his blood simmer.

“We sure it wasn’t Rumlows’ lot, or fuck even Walker?

“Walkers’ fanclub do not have the brain cells, the power, or the information to organise an attack like that, and Parker tracked Rumlow and his men, all are accounted for and have alibis. This is someone new.”

Oh for fuck’s sake. Isn’t two power hungry assholes enough.

“We haven’t found anything? No security cameras, no cell tower pings?” Bucky asks, leaning back in his chair, resting his head on the back.

“Actually, I sent Scott there this morning to check out if there was anything left there and he found something.” Steve responds, some apprehension creeping into his voice.

That got Bucky’s attention. His head snapped back up and locked eyes with Steve who now stood in-front of his desk, pacing back and forth slightly.

“Care to share with the class Rogers?” His voice was hard now, his extreme dislike of not knowing all the information shining through.

Steve exhales sharply, biting his tongue to not retort and piss Bucky off more.

“He found a package tucked behind a dumpster addressed to ‘Bucky Barnes’ that had a memory stick-“

“Like a USB?” Bucky interrupted.

“- Yeah a USB-“ he gets cut off again.

“Then just say USB, calling it a ‘memory stick’ makes you sound 100 years old.”

“-oh dear god, you gonna let me finish?” Steve responds.

Bucky waved his hand at him, a sign for him to continue.

“Scott found a package addressed to you with a USB inside, we gave it to Stark ‘cos Parker was busy tracking down Rumlows crew, and he checked it out and told us it was completely normal, no virus or anything bad in it.”

“Was there anything on it?” Bucky asks, his brow furrowed.

“It..uh..has two pictures on it.” Steve said lowly.

“…of?”

“It’s probably better if I just show you.” Steve said, his tone of voice made Bucky a little nervous.

Steve took out his phone, tapped a couple of time before turning it around to give to Bucky. As soon as the latter had ahold of the phone, Steve took a full step back, which caused Bucky to raise his eyebrows in question.

“Just look.” He says in response to Bucky’s unasked question.

He looked down at the screen and almost immediately removed his left hand as to not break the phone.

Fuck. Shit.

The first picture was of the night he met you. It was taken through the window for you apartment, and clearly showed both you and Bucky, stood side by side, looking through your flash book.

“What the fuck is this?” He pushes out through gritted teeth.

“I assuming that’s the tattoo artist you told me about, the one you got a thing for?” Steve says.

The one I’m obsessed with.

When Bucky gives him a sharp nod, Steve just drops his head, suddenly fascinated with his shoes.

“Shit.” He says under his breath.

“What?” Bucky’s voice was louder now.

“Look at the next picture.” Steve says while avoiding eye contact.

Bucky looks down, his finger swiping to the next picture before he can think about it.

No. No no fuck. Not her.

The next photo was taken from inside the apartment. Inside your bedroom. It’s of you. Asleep. Completely unaware of the danger stood at the foot of your bed.

Bucky couldn’t look away, he was frozen staring at the picture. Your shorts and oversized tee had both ridden up slightly, showing how truly vulnerable you are. The clock on your table showed the time as 3:54 and showed the date.

“…this was taken this morning.”

“..yeah.”

fuck.

———————

Fuck Bucky Barnes.

The bastard hadn’t contacted you since the shop.

Bitch ass told me to keep my phone on so I wouldn’t miss his message, kept me glued to my phone like a weirdo waiting for him to call… and he didn’t. Dick.

Despite the annoyance at the very very attractive mobster, you couldn’t help wonder how he was, what he was doing, if he was thinking about you too.

You’re overthinking about Bucky was interrupted by a knock at your door.

“One sec!” You shout to whoever’s there, getting up and walking to the door. The second you undo the lock, the door is being pushed into your face with a chorus of greetings.

“Come in I guess,” you say to the three who just walked in.

“Well thanks darlin, you got food?” Billy responds, already making his way to the fridge.

“Don’t fucking eat my pizza Bill, I swear I’ll kill you,” you answer, giving both Frank and Curtis a hug, letting the door close behind them.

He laughs off your threat as the others take a seat on your couch.

“Not that I don’t love you guys, but why the fuck are you here?” You ask, moving back to the arm chair in the corner and taking a seat, your phone pinging in the back ground.

“What, we can’t pop in on you whenever we want?” Frank says, leaning back in the arm of the couch, moving to put his feet in the coffee table.

“Frankie if you put your feet on my table, I’m gonna beat you with a spoon.” You call at him.

He freezes and slowly lowers his feet back to the floor.

“We just wanted to come see how you were…Frank told us about Barnes.” Curtis says, cutting into the conversation and completely dampening the mood.

God-fucking-dammit Frank.

Oh fuck do I tell them that he’s not an issue and I actually quite like him.

“Yeah are you ok sweetheart?” Billy asks and he collapses on the couch in the middle of the other boys.

“I’m fine guys, I swear, like I told Frank he’s actually not bad,” you answer, shifting uncomfortable lay in your seat due to the indecision of how much to tell them, “He was nice, polite and kind of…charming, I guess-”

“Is that why you kissed him?” Frank interrupts.

Shit, how does he know?

“-what?”

“You kissed him. Or rather he kissed you but you seemed to enjoy it.” Billy says with an annoying smirk on his face.

“How do you know that?” You ask, shock still written all over your face.

“..the security cameras, kid. You forget about those?”

Ahh fuck.

“Ahh fuck,” you say out loud.

“What the hell are you doing making out with a mobster, Y/N?” Curtis responds, looking at you with those eyes of his that show he’s not judging, just trying to understand.

“I..uh..I wasn’t-really-thinking.” You put you hands on your head, even though Curtis wasn’t judging you, the other two definitely were.

“Obviously you weren’t, he’s a goddam mobster Y/N-” Billy starts, anger in his voice, but you cut him off.

“I know that Bill, ok, I do,” you say, shifting to place your feet on the floor, “but he’s not the animal you think he is, he’s kind and considerate and he makes me feel…” happy. you cut off before the last word, wanting to keep that realisation to yourself for a little longer.

“Plus you bastards can’t be judging me for meeting the guy twice, only yourselves and the devil knows what fucked shit you three have been up to.” You almost shout.

“The fuck does that mean?” Frank answers.

“C’mon Frank I’m not stupid, you three have some shady shit in your pasts. I mean you were goddam military for fucks sake, and don’t think I don’t see the fake payments on the books at the shop-“

“Stop Y/N.” Billy cuts you off. “Stop it now.” He leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees, eyes never leaving yours.

You were about to respond to his demand, when a knock sounded at the door.

“Told you to keep you phone on.” A dark voice calls through the door.

Oh shit. No no no not now please not now.

“Who the fuck is that?” Frank asks, suddenly sitting up straight, eyes pinned on the door. Both Billy and Curtis stand, facing the door as if waiting for it to bust off it’s hinges.

“Please all of you, shut the fuck up and don’t do anything dumb,” you answer, moving towards the door.

“Is that him?” Curtis asks.

“Didn’t I just say shut the fuck up,” you retort a little snappier, opening the door slightly.

He cut his hair, it’s looks good on him.

Bucky lowers his arm from his thwarted attempt at a second knock and says, “Is your phone broken or are you ignoring me?” The smirk on his face made your heart beat a little faster.

“Neither, I just missed your text because I have some friends over right now,” you say.

“Is that why you’re not opening the door properly? I can barley see you,” he says with a grin.

“…kinda? Ok wait..” you exit your apartment, pulling the door closed fully behind you, “long story short, they know about the k.. uh about what happened at the shop, and they know who you are and they are not happy about it.”

His eyes darken and his smirk grows wider at the almost mention of the kiss. He shifts until he’s leaning his shoulder on the wall by your door.

“Oh yeah? Doesn’t really matter what they think though, does it doll? Both you and I know how much you enjoyed it.” He says, mouth forming a cheeky grin.

Oh my god.

“Me? You’re the one who started it Bucky, seemed you enjoyed it more,” you respond, having no idea where the confidence came from.

He hums at your statement and says “Well I can admit that I did enjoy our kiss sweetheart, but I may need a little reminder of how it went, it’s been a long day you see.”

“Bucky-” you’re cut of by him stepping closer until your chests are barley touching, the new position making you tilt your head back to see him better.

“What darlin? You ok with this?” He asks slowly, tilting his head to the side slightly, looking into your eyes for any sign of discomfort.

Why does he have to be so sweet.

You nod in answer to his question and he smiles. Not the terrifying grin or the cheeky smirk, but a genuine smile - one that makes him even more beautiful. Bucky raises his right arm, dragging his thumb over your lips and cupping your cheek while you stare up at him, his other hand sneaks around your back, pulling you flush to him.

“You have no idea what to do to me, do ya?” He mumbles, probably not intending for you to respond as he’s closing the gap between you. The kiss is harsh and a little messy, shocking you slightly with his apparent desperation, hands holding you tightly. He takes advantage of your shock, tracing your lips with his tongue and pushing past to deepen the kiss.

His hand drops from you face to your waist, gripping so tightly, you’re sure he’ll have left a bruise. That thought got you’re heart pumping faster, the idea that an imprint of his hands, his fingers would be left on your skin. It felt right. Bucky pushes you until your back hits the wall, hips fitting against yours almost perfectly, one leg sneaking between yours as you let a light whimper escape.

You break the kiss to get some air, leaning your forehead against his, both of you catching your breath.

“Bucky, I mis-”, you didn’t get to finish the sentence before your door opens and you’re suddenly faced with three pissed off ex-marines.

-(Bucky’s P.O.V)

Bucky immediately steps back, releasing you, and straightens his posture. He looks at the men, quietly analysing them. He can tell that they either are or were military, and definitely care immensely about you, probably to the point of beating the crap out of anyone that hurt you.

The one in the middle is a frightening creature , he thinks, but the wedding band means he has something to loose, he should be less quick to anger, in theory.

The one on the right with the short buzz cut and the tense muscles reminds him of Clint, he’s ready to fight at the drop of a hat, and by the look on his face, I’m gonna be his next target.

The man on the left intrigued Bucky the most. His face is blank, showing nothing. He’s favouring one of his legs, and the other shows a bulky piece of metal at the bottom. Wonder if that’s an old military injury.

“Guys, what are you doing?” You ask, apprehension in your voice. Bucky wonders if you’re scared for them or for him.

“Oh we are gonna head out, let you have some time to really think about what we talked about.” The man in the middle says, putting emphasis on the word really.

“Frank please-”

“No it’s ok sweetheart,” Bucky bristles at the pet name the Clint wannabe says, “we’ll see you later.”

“Billy-”

“Shit, I left my phone on your table, could you get it for me?” The other says to you, cutting off your words, smiling at you to calm the stressed look on your face.

“Of course Cutis, one sec,” you respond, Turing to Bucky at the end of your sentence with a look at says please don’t make this worse.

You pass by the men and let the door fall closed behind you.

The silence is tense as the men all stare at each-other.

“So…how’s your man doing? Y’know the one that got jumped,” Billy says, smirking at Bucky.

“How do you know that?” Bucky asks as his muscles tense.

“…Y/N told us, obviously,” Billy says.

The pause was intentional, she didn’t tell them that.

“He’s fine, thanks.” Bucky responds shortly, all to aware of the lie he was just told.

The door opens just before Billy can respond, all four men going silent again.

“Here it is Curtis, guess I’ll see you guys later then,” you say, before hugging each man.

The three shoulder past Bucky as if he was just a man on the street, no care in the world that he could have them killed for that disrespect. But he lets this one slide, for her, as they’re her friends.

“Did you tell them about Clint?” He knows it was a lie but he needs to make sure his cynical brain isn’t marking it up.

“No? Why?” You answer, unaware of the turmoil occurring in Bucky’s head.

Then how the fuck do they know.

“Give me one minute doll, I forgot something at the car,” he says, “go on inside I’ll be back soon.”

“Uh.. okay.” You answer, walking back into the apartment.

He watches the door and as soon as it closes he is moving back down the stairs, hoping to catch and ask the men how they knew about Clint. Bucky normally has an reasonable explanation for everything, but this time he was stumped. He catches them outside the front door to the building, the three of them stood leaning against their car, watching the door, waiting for him to come out.

“How do you know?” He repeats his question from before, voice lower and more dangerous now.

“Y’know…that bastard has a solid right hook.” Billy says. The sentence sends red hot anger through Bucky’s blood.

It was them. But that means…

“Did you get our package?” The big one in the middle asks, Frank, she called him.

Fuck. The anger that has been burning in his veins since the second he saw those photos of you pours out of him and he immediately pulls a gun on Frank.

“Hey now that’s not smart, is it?” Curtis asks in a placating tone.

“Don’t forget about our girl up there. What’s she gonna think if you shoot me for no reason?” Frank says, unflinching staring down the barrel of Bucky’s gun.

Fuck. Fuck. These bastard are the ones threatening everything, they jumped Clint and are using you to get to him. They’re your friends and you? You have absolutely no idea.

————

Yo this took so long to do!! Hope you like my lil twisty turn at the end there 😈.

Lemme know what u think 😘

Tagged :

@sleepyghostygirl @starlightaurorab @where-the-river-bends @imagines-of-the-fandom @bigenargy @uraverageatiny @squeezyvalkyrie @mylifeispainandiloveit @mrvlxgrl @bopbeepboopbopbeep @yvessaintmuerte @thecubanator2 @flubblubbb @teambarnes72 @ria132love @pingpongfingfong @rivthejellyfish @mybakubaby @blue-chup @goatsmcgee @facinated-lemon @daddylorianisastateofmind @buckybarnesb-tch @yeahimcrying @shifting2places @1-800-bxrnes @fandomsfallnomore @bushtail @ghostofwinter @missdarlingsb @amiets2 @leabunny @justmarlen3 @bofadeezs @jehduxi @grey107th @king-of-spades-aroace @sebismyhubby @princezzjasmine @sebastianswhore @cluckityduck @shuriri4life @calwitch @goodkittyspost @iateall-yourcookies @miss-i-ship-it @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @anawhitethorn @radiator-hands @tripletstephaniescp

#bucky imagine #bucky barnes x reader #mob!bucky #mob!bucky fic #mob!bucky x reader #mob!bucky x tattoo artist!reader #ace chats #tattoo artist!reader #mob!bucky barnes x reader

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leashybebes · 3 months ago

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tentatively excited for this fic 👀👀 gonna take a little while because work (ugh) and i need some time to actually plot it out and figure out the structure and whether i actually wanna bite the bullet and do the more complicated version. basically we are looking at a long term fic where they find each other again a way down the line so I'm not sure how much of what i have so far will make it verbatim into the final thing but for now, have some sal!!

The first time Tommy's aware of waking up, the room is dark - as dark as hospitals ever get, anyway. He can't feel much of anything, just a sort of full-body ache that speaks of the good drugs. His right leg looks suspiciously bulky under the covers, so definitely in a cast, from his ankle up past his knee. The mask on his face is annoying in a dull, distant way, and the longer he's awake, the more his head hurts, making itself known above the general thrum of dull pain.

He can feel sleep already threatening again so he takes the time he has to look around. He's in an individual room, there's a drip going into his hand, and he can hear the low-level hum of hospital noises - staff talking quietly, machines beeping. And - and Sal's asleep in the chair next to the bed, third day stubble on his face, snoring quietly. Tommy feels a rush of affection for his old friend as sleep tugs at him.

The next time he wakes up, it's to the sound of Sal talking on the phone.

"Okay, I gotta go, sweetie," he says, as soon as he realises Tommy's awake. "Be good for your mom. Uncle Tommy says hi."

Tommy wiggles his fingers in an attempt at a wave. Sal rolls his eyes and hits the call button, tossing his phone onto the table at Tommy's bedside.

"Jesus Christ, Kinard. Drive much?"

Tommy rolls his eyes, gestures at the mask on his face.

"Nah, that's staying on," Sal promises. Tommy rolls his eyes and gives Sal the finger.

"Happened?" he manages.

"Lady coming the other way lost control, sounds like you tried to swerve, over-corrected, rolled a couple times."

"Well, shit. She okay?"

"Couple scrapes," Sal says with a shrug.

"Truck?"

"Oh, completely fucked," Sal says cheerfully. "You want me to call the kid?"

Tommy blinks, confused. "Kid?"

"Buckley," Sal says, like it's obvious.

Tommy gives him the best stink-eye he can muster. "Broke up, asshole."

"Yeah, but like. Two weeks ago. I know you, Kinard. You get your lil claws in deep. Dontcha think he'd wanna know?"

He probably would, Tommy thinks. He'd probably call out from work and jump in the Jeep and gun it all the way up to Sacramento.

"Don't, Sal."

"Yeah, yeah," Sal grumbles.

"Hey. Promise."

Sal rolls his eyes. "Okay, okay. Swear."

Tommy nods, closes his eyes. The last thing this situation needs is Evan Buckley's particular brand of chaotic, full-on care.

"How - how bad?" Tommy manages, gesturing down towards his leg.

Sal's pause says it all, really. "Think they're more worried about your big, dumb head for now."

"Sal."

"Let - let me get a doctor, okay?"

Tagging some folks who requested it. Let me know if you want in (or out! I won't be offended, this is v definitely not a quick fix-it fic and they're gonna miss a lot of each other's lives so I know it won't be everyone's thing!)

@silversky9 @typicalopposite @my-ari-fan-blog1

#my writing #bucktommy #crash that truck

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gothgoblinbabe · 4 months ago

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✮ Monster Mash ✮

Logan Howlett x fem reader

A/N: I wanted to do something for spooky month and I’ve been dying to go to Monster mini golf because. I mean. Look at it. Does that not look so fun. It’s so fun. I haven’t been since I was little and I’m determined to go soon - anyway, I wanted to explain that if you don’t know what that is, it’s a chain of indoor mini golf courses that are hand painted in neon paint and have all these cool monster statues and themed holes. Also an arcade <3 I fucking love the arcade

I even included some pictures in the moodboard!

Yes I did laugh like a twelve year old boy every time I wrote “hole” so get the giggles out now

Summary: Picking a group activity was never easy, but with Halloween right around the corner, you came up with the perfect idea. Even if Logan hated it.

Warnings: swearing, I think that’s it? Good amount of fluff, This is a cute one

Word Count: 4k

꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ⭑꒷꒦

Team building exercises sounded great when Charles brought it up, in theory.

You’d all spend one day a week doing an activity together. Each person - you, Logan, Ororo, Jean and Scott - got a chance to pick said activity, decided by who got to pick the week before. It seemed like an easy and fair system - except that some of you were very stubborn and wouldn’t agree to go anywhere half the time.

“I’m not doing that. I don’t want to,” Logan would say flatly, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Too bad,” Scott would always say, “get in the car.”

This week was your turn and you were ecstatic, except that you couldn’t decide on what you wanted to do. Something in you was feeling nostalgic and longed to revisit somewhere you hadn’t been in a long time. You tried to think of what you did as a kid with your friends, what you did for your birthdays or places you wanted to go but never got to. You also figured since Halloween was around the corner, you should choose something kind of spooky.

You knew exactly where you wanted to go.

“I don’t get it,” Logan narrowed his eyes and looked at the colorful sign plastered on the front of the building, “what do monsters have to do with it?”

You stifled a laugh.

“They’re cute.”

“Cute?” Logan eyed one of the monsters painted on the outside wall, “define ‘cute’.”

“It looks like fun,” Jean shrugged, hand in hand with Scott as you all walked in together.

Monster mini golf was one of your favorite places to go as a kid. The blacklights, patterned carpets, familiar monster displays and neon lights reminded you of simpler times.

Once inside, you all got clubs and golf balls. You tried to hand Logan a club and he shook his head.

“I am not playin’ golf like some yuppie.”

“Does this look like a country club to you?” you gestured to your surroundings, “Logan, it’s mini golf. It's fun. Take the damn club or you can sit in the car for the next three hours.”

After a moment of hesitation, he begrudgingly took it from your hands and followed you onto the little neon course.

“I’m gonna kick your ass at this - just so you know,” you told him. If there was anything that could get Logan to participate, it was to challenge him.

“Oh, are you?” he narrowed his eyes and you knew you had him.

“Yeah, duh! And when I do win,” you smiled and pointed at a distant photo booth in the arcade room adjacent from the course, “you’ve gotta get in the photo booth with me.”

It may or may not have been an excuse to sit shoulder to shoulder in a little booth where you could smell his cologne and see his pretty face up close. Plus, you’d have a strip of photos to help you remember it. Having such a huge crush on him and never saying a thing about it meant that a moment in a Photo Booth could be all you’d ever have, and you still wanted it anyway.

“Deal,” he replied, holding out his pinkie so you could lock yours with his. You can’t remember where it started - maybe during downtime on a mission or a late night talk on the couch in the living room - but every time you made some sort of deal or agreement, you locked pinkies. It was like a pinkie promise to fulfill your end of the deal.

You locked yours around his and he goofily shook your hand all around while he still had a grip on you.

“Okay, okay,” you giggled, “let me go!”

He finally did with a short laugh.

“Okay, Romeo and Juliet,” Scott’s voice made you turn around, “can we actually start playing?”

Logan rolled his eyes and lifted the mini golf club over his shoulder to hit him with it, but you grabbed his bicep and made him slowly lower it.

“Is this gonna be like the last time we all went out?” Ororo asked, “because I can’t do a repeat of Six Flags.”

“We’re still banned for another six months,” Jean pointed out.

“I didn’t think they could kick you out for destroyin’ a concession stand,” Logan shrugged.

“Why wouldn’t they?” Scott asked.

“You started it, anyway.”

“So?”

“So? I’ll throw you through another one, fuckface -“

“Alright!” you interrupted with a false smile, “if either one of you get us kicked out of here, I will personally shave your heads in your sleep. Got it?”

Logan shuddered and immediately brought a protective hand up to his hair. They both nodded and you patted them on the backs.

“Okay, boys! Time to golf.”

You couldn’t even get past the first hole without hitting your ball over ten times.

“This sucks,” you said under your breath. The place itself didn’t suck, but you sure did at mini golf. You did this as a kid all the time - why was it so hard as an adult? Maybe because the clubs were much shorter now.

Except your six-foot best friend was hunched over the little club as he swung and he was still doing well.

“Looks like I’m winnin’,” Logan flashed a smug grin as he hit a hole in one.

“Ugh,” you groaned, letting your head fall back in frustration.

“Someone’s a sore loser,” he teased in a sing-song voice.

“Yeah, it’s gonna be you soon,” you pointed over to where you saw Scott, who was playing effortlessly.

“Alright, hey - it’s you and me, one on one. Forget Summers, I’m gonna be the one to kick your ass.”

As much as it probably shouldn't have, Logan’s voice made your heart flutter.

“Sure you are, big cat.”

His eyebrows furrowed when you said the nickname, one you used to tease him often.

“You think ‘roro and Jean are doin’ any better?” he asked, intending to ignore your inherent need to press every single one of his buttons.

You saw the both of them a little bit ahead of you, celebrating as Jean completed that part of the course.

“I’d say so,” you pursed your lips and leaned down to align your club with the ball.

“Your feet aren't right.”

You stood up straight and looked back at Logan.

“What?”

“Your feet are too close together,” he explained, coming closer to lightly knock his boot against the inside of your foot, “there.”

He stood back again and crossed his arms. You positioned yourself to hit the ball until he spoke again.

“You need to straighten your back.”

You chuckled and turned around.

“I thought golf was for yuppies, hm?” you mocked his earlier statement and he rolled his eyes.

“You want help or not?”

You genuinely contemplated his question before answering.

“Alright.”

He came closer behind you before you could even ask what he was doing. He blanketed his hands and arms over yours to help your aim, inadvertently pulling your back against his chest. He was warm and smelled like leather and pine. You were trying to listen to everything he was saying, but his voice so close to your ear made your head spin and turned your brain to mush.

There was a sudden flash of light and you heard something click. You instantly spotted Ororo with a digital camera in her hands and a wide smile on her face.

“You guys look so cute, I had to!”

Logan rolled his eyes and you shook your head, but you couldn’t see him bite down a smile behind you. If you didn’t ask for a copy of that picture later, he would.

You were so distracted by your thoughts that you almost forgot there was actually a point to him crowding you like this.

“Anyway, here,” he readjusted his hands over yours and pulled the club back a bit to swing, “ready?”

You nodded and he rested his head over your shoulder so he could see the ball and help you aim. You could feel his warm breath grazing your ear.

You felt like your legs were going to give out from underneath you.

The ball went rolling with a light tap and you watched it travel straight into the hole.

“Yes!” you exclaimed, excitedly raising your hands in the air when he let you go. For some reason, a part of you felt bold enough to lean up and kiss him on the cheek as a thank you, so you did.

He was lucky you couldn’t see the tips of his ears turn pink under the black light.

“With your help, I’ll be better than Tiger Woods in no time,” you joked.

“I don’t know about that,” he said with a shy smile, “I’m no professional trainer. Besides, it was all you.”

“You had your hands over mine and swung for me.”

“Again, all you.”

You laughed and motioned for him to follow you to the next hole in the course. The spot was next to a particularly grotesque monster sculpture.

“Ew,” Logan cringed, pointing at the towering neon statue, “he is ugly.”

“He looks like you,” you joked, gesturing to its face.

“Ha - ha,” he said flatly, “very funny.”

Logan shot you a mischievous smile and looked around the room, locking eyes with Ororo.

“ ‘roro! Pull out that camera!”

Before you could ask any questions, he was lifting you up with his arms around your waist and holding you up next to the statue.

“Logan! Put me down!” you tried to yell but couldn’t stop laughing, kicking your feet in an attempt to get loose and failing miserably. He held you tight - not enough to hurt, of course - and practically squished the side of his face against yours. Your cheeks felt hot from laughing so hard - or having Logan so close, you weren’t sure which.

Ororo, Jean and Scott were all chuckling while the picture was taken. The flash went off and you couldn’t help the wide smile on your face that unknowingly mirrored Logan’s.

“How cute are they?” Jean pouted and spoke under her breath, looking over Ororo’s shoulder at the digital camera screen.

“Lemme see!” you demanded as Logan set you down, jogging over to peek at the screen.

You knew you smiled as wide as you could, but seeing him smile so big that his eyes were nearly closed made your heart feel like it would burst.

“I didn’t even know you could smile,” Scott teased him, earning a glare from Logan.

“Hey, you remember six flags,” you reminded Scott, “he smiled when he threw you through that concession stand!”

“I was kind of too busy with my head stuck in the front of a popcorn sign to see it, but I believe you.”

“That was pretty funny,” Logan smiled to himself, “your hair smelled like butter for weeks.”

“Yeah, funny,” Scott rolled his eyes.

You continued the game and having Logan’s guide at the start increased your skill significantly. When you got down to the last hole, you were tied.

“This is it, big cat,” you told him, hands on your hips as he lined up his shot.

“If I win, you’ve gotta stop callin’ me that.”

“Hm,” you pretended to think for a moment, “nah, I don’t think I will.”

“You’re gonna have to in a minute,” he said in a cocky tone, pulling his club back to swing.

When he hit the ball, it rocketed across the carpeted floor and hit the little neon side wall, ricocheting it from one side to the other until it lost momentum. It was nowhere near the hole.

You clicked your tongue.

“Step aside, big cat,” you flashed him a smug grin and playfully nudged him with your elbow.

He groaned in frustration and crossed his arms, watching from behind as you lined up your shot. You hit the ball and watched it roll straight into the hole.

“Ooh, how does that feel, babe?”

You didn’t really mean to let the nickname slip - you called people ‘babe’ all the time - but you didn’t correct yourself either.

“Feels like I let you win, babe.”

Hearing it in his voice made you undeniably giddy.

“Sure, sure - whatever you have to tell yourself to sleep at night.”

“Well, I can guarantee you one thing,” he started and you raised your eyebrows, “you’d never beat me in Mortal Kombat.”

He pointed into the arcade you’d seen before.

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Who do you usually choose to fight?”

“Reptile. Who do you pick?”

“Kitana.”

“That’s..” Logan paused in thought, “a pretty good fight, actually.”

“I’m still gonna kick your ass.”

“Not at this one, kid.”

You were walking hurriedly on the neon carpet like you were a kid again, eager to feed money into rewardless games. You spotted the Mortal Kombat machine almost immediately and tugged on the sleeve of his jacket to get his attention. You made your way over to the brightly colored machine and put in some quarters, changing the screen to the select character menu.

“Ready to lose?” He asked and you playfully scoffed, eyes glued to the screen.

“Whatever, kitty. You still owe me a photo booth picture, so I’m the real winner today anyway.

“What’d I say about ‘kitty’?”

“That you hate it? Oh, yeah, I know, that’s why I use it.”

The round started and you and Logan stood shoulder to shoulder, mashing buttons and driving the joysticks in different directions. It was a two player machine - technically, you had enough room to put space between you, but neither of you actually wanted to.

The first round was over before you knew it, a bright ‘FATALITY’ written across your side of the screen.

“Now how did that feel, babe?”

Your face felt hot when he used the affectionate nickname and you hoped he was too focused on the second round to notice you were smiling like an idiot.

He was too, though.

“Oh, permanent nickname now?” you tried to play cool while you were still focused on the fight.

“Mhm,” he hummed, “get used to it, babe.”

You could most definitely get used to it.

“Okay, babe.”

You were still with your eyes glued to the screen, but in your mind, you were jumping around and doing cartwheels and screaming in victory.

So, you were amazed that you’d won the second round even while daydreaming about the guy beside you.

“Suck on that, Howlett,” you said smugly, grinning up at him.

“Ooh, so your trash talkin’ gets dirty, now?”

You only laughed in response.

“I think I prefer being called ‘babe’, though,” he told you, looking into your eyes in a way that made your hands sweat.

“Well,” you tried to calm your nerves, “you’re on, babe.”

The third round would determine who won and you were both locked in. The colored light from the screen painted your features as you vigorously slammed buttons. You watched your health bar steadily get lower, lower and lower before it was empty completely. The third and final end screen popped up and you let your head fall back in frustration.

“See, what’d I tell you? You never had a chance,” he teased.

“It’s Photo Booth time, anyway,” you said excitedly, grabbing his hand and attempting to pull him with you as you walked. He followed you, but it wasn’t actually because you were holding onto him - you couldn’t move him even if there were two of you - but because he’d really follow you anywhere if it meant he could hold your hand.

You passed a row of claw machines and halted in front of one of them when something inside caught your eye. Logan stopped behind you, confused as to what you were looking at.

Smack dab in the middle of the pile of stuffed creatures, you saw her.

A Halloween themed stuffed Hello Kitty, complete with a glow in the dark bow and bat patterned dress. Her small beady eyes stared back at you from behind the glass and you knew you had to have her. It was love at first sight.

“You see her?” you looked at Logan with a deadly serious expression and pressed your finger to the glass, “I’m not leaving without her. We’re coming back after the pictures.”

You found the Photo Booth and eagerly slid into the small space behind the curtain with Logan next to you. You looked up at the screen that showed the both of you and smiled wide. Maybe it was your own bias, but you thought you looked cute together.

You followed the instructions and the photo countdown began. You and Logan looked at each other in mild panic, realizing you didn’t know how to pose.

“Silly one?” you asked and you were both immediately moving to strike a pose before the photo was taken.

You were crossing your eyes with your tongue stuck out and he had his hands up in claws, forcing an underbite so that his lower teeth were covering his upper lip. When the picture was snapped and you looked up to see it, you laughed so hard at Logan’s face that you were nearly in tears. Your laughter was contagious and he was infected immediately, both of you starting to tear up from laughing so hard. You hadn't heard the camera timer over your laughing and when it made the click noise, you looked back at the screen.

You were leaned over Logan a little, your mouth open mid-laugh and your eyes closed. His smile was wide as could be, his cheeks actually red from laughing.

“That’s cute!”

You really didn’t mean to say it aloud but it slipped anyway and you pursed your lips.

“Very,” he said.

You felt the turn and twist of excitement in your stomach.

“Okay, next one,” you told him, “wanna do a regular picture?”

“Sure.”

Instantly, he slung his arm over your shoulder and leaned his head against yours while you kept your cheek-aching grin. He had a genuine smile, his eyes stuck on your face on the screen.

It felt like there was something there, something in the air between you, some kind of effect that made your longing for him almost unbearable.

The picture was snapped and you turned to look at him. He didn’t move his arm, instead keeping it hooked around you to pull you close. He looked back at you with a semi-serious expression while his eyes studied your features.

“What?” you laughed, small and nervous.

You were too entranced by him to hear the last photo countdown, but Logan heard it fine.

Three

You leaned in close to each other, almost nose to nose.

Two

He brought his other hand up to hold your face tenderly, swiping his thumb over your skin in an affectionate manner. His stare was intense in the best way possible. You felt like your heart was beating so hard it might give out.

One

He kissed you.

He closed the gap and you wanted to squeal in excitement, though you’d wait till you told Ororo to do that. His lips were soft like you always thought they’d be and you reveled in the overwhelming scent of him - leather and pine. You had your hands in the hair at the back of his head, as if you were holding him against you. It was like a dream come true, somehow everything you’d hoped it would be.

When you finally pulled away from each other, you were speechless. He took your silence as rejection and awkwardly avoided your stare.

“I’m sorry, I - uh, I don’t know why I-“

You pulled him close to kiss him again and silence his rambling. You could feel him relax under your touch and you did the same, smiling against his lips when it finally set in that he had actually kissed you.

“I’ve wanted to do that for awhile now,” you admitted quietly when your lips disconnected.

“Me too.”

He was smirking like he’d beat you in another arcade game, proudly basking in the afterglow of victory. This time, you were the prize, one he never thought he’d win.

“We should probably get the pictures, huh?” You asked and he nodded.

“Yeah, uh, one more thing,” he replied and kissed you again, “okay, let’s go.”

You giggled and followed him out of the booth. He picked up the two strips of photos from the printer on the side of the booth and handed you one.

All of the pictures came out great, but you were really just focused on the last one. It was perfect. Not only did he kiss you, but now you had proof to remind yourself it wasn’t a dream.

“Hey, how’re you guys making out over here?”

You jumped at the sound of Jean's voice and blurted the first thing that came to mind.

“We weren’t making out.”

Jean tilted her head and looked between the two of you.

“Hm,” she hummed, “okay, then.”

Logan discreetly interlaced his fingers with yours when she turned away and tugged you further into the isles of games. He stopped in front of the row of claw machines again.

You spotted Hello Kitty and looked back and forth between her and Logan.

“I’m gonna get that stuffed cat,” he told you matter of factly, starting the game with a press of a button.

“She has a name, you know,” you informed him, trying to bite down another beaming smile just from the fact that he wanted to do that for you.

“Oh, does she?”

“Mhm, Hello Kitty.”

“I told you to stop calling me that,” he sighed and you started to laugh, taking a deep breath before responding.

“No, no - that’s her name, she’s Hello Kitty.”

“Ah, I see,” he smiled while his eyes were glued to the metal claw of the machine, “Well, I’ll let you teach me all about her when I get her out.”

The metal claw lowered slowly and its talons gripped around Hello Kitty’s rotund head, but she slipped from its grasp the moment the claw started to rise.

“Rigged,” you said simply, “I never win at these.”

“No one does - I will, though.”

“Sure,” you giggled, watching him try once more. He got it but the stuffed cat, of course, slipped from the claws grasp.

“Third try, this is it. If I don’t get that damn thing, I’m gonna put a hole through the machine and get it myself.”

You were going to get that cat no matter what he had to do. It was undeniably sweet to see him so determined to do something for you, especially something as unserious as winning a stuffed animal.

You both watched anxiously as the claw lowered for the third and final time. The talons wrapped around Hello Kitty’s head once more and lifted her into the air. You gasped and watched in silent concentration as the claw took from one side of the box to the other, dropping her into the prize slot.

“Yeah!,” Logan exclaimed excitedly in his deep voice and you giggled at his enthusiasm.

“I mean,” he cleared his throat, “you’re welcome.”

You took Hello Kitty from the prize slot in the front of the machine and held her close to your chest.

“Thank you very much.”

He would’ve stayed at the damn machine all day to get that thing if he had to.

You all decide to leave a little while later, stepping into the parking lot, only to be met with light rain.

“Ugh,” you groaned, looking down at your shoes, “I just got these - if they get wet, they’re ruined.”

“I gotcha.”

Without a second to protest, Logan lifted you up with one arm under your knees and the other around your back. You giggled - something you couldn’t really help when his hands were on you - and grabbed ahold of the front of his jacket. You weren’t really sure why. You told yourself it was to keep him from dropping you, but you knew he never would, especially with how strong he was. Truthfully, it was probably just to keep him so close.

“Go carry your bride to the car,” Jean teased, nodding towards the vehicle parked not so far away.

Neither of you challenged the ‘bride’ comment.

As Logan carried you the short distance, his hand on your back reached your side so he could poke you, knowing it made you ticklish.

“Ah!,” you squealed and laughed, kicking your feet, “you’re gonna drop me if you do that!”

He did it again and you squirmed, wrapping your arms around his neck to keep you from hitting the ground.

Neither of you realized that when you had kicked around, one of the photo strips fell from the pocket of your jacket. Scott saw and picked it up before it could get wet without a second thought, failing to even look at what it was.

“Okay, okay, I’m done,” Logan finally replied, “promise.”

“Promise?”

“Nope!”

He poked your side and you shrieked out of instinct, lightly hitting his chest with your open palm.

“Logan!”

“Okay, really, I’ll stop.”

He set you down and opened the car door for you. You slid in to escape from the rain and he did the same, everyone else piling in after. Scott was in the front seat and remembered that he picked up something of yours. He pulled the paper from his jacket pocket and turned it around to figure out what it actually was, turning in his seat to speak to you at the same time.

“Hey, one of you dropped this pa-“

He went silent and smiled, chuckling to himself.

“What?” Logan asked, but when you saw what was in Scott’s hands, you instantly knew what it was.

“Oh, that’s not - that’s..” you tried to explain but your voice trailed off as Jean peeked at the photo from the passenger seat and gasped.

“Finally!” she turned the picture to Ororo so she could see, “I told you!”

You and Logan both made the same confused expression, looking between the three of them.

“ ‘Told you’ what?” he asked Ororo, who sat beside the two of you.

She sighed.

“Jean said you’d get together in the next month. I said it would be two months, so - she told me so.”

You and Logan were both still very confused.

“So you knew I liked him?” you asked Jean blatantly, but Logan spoke first.

“You liked me this whole time?”

“Yeah,” you felt bashful, “of course I did.”

“I liked you this whole time, though.”

“You did?”

“Alright, we get that you like each other,” Scott interrupted with a huff, “is there anything else you guys want to tell us?”

You were silent but Logan spoke again after a minute.

“Yeah, all the quarters I used in the arcade were yours.”

Scott was visibly grinding his teeth.

“Alright,” he turned back around and started the car, “we’re going home.”

Logan wrapped his arm around your shoulder like he did in the photo booth, lovingly pulling you into him so you could rest your head on him.

You stayed like that the entire ride home, stuffed Hello Kitty tucked in your arms.

꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ⭑꒷꒦

A/N: If you made it this far ily! and I wanted to say I'm absolutely still working on requests, I just take a long time to write </3

Anyway pls interact if you enjoyed and follow me 4 more!

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett fic #logan howlett fanfiction #logan howlett smut #wolverine #wolverine x reader #wolverine fanfiction #wolverine fic #wolverine smut #fluff

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 4 months ago

Note

Pressure reader finding a gun and now can and will defend themself from monster or execute other people for doing something dumb

I'm sorry but I saw this and decided to run with how finding a gun might actually go for a Prisoner!Reader /lh

..................

"Wow...guess somebody forgot to pick this up. Or maybe Sebastian got tired of me dying to those monsters all the time.."

Staring down at the weapon that was just laying on the floor, you looked around to see if any cameras were currently watching you. Of course, there was a singular one with a red light in the corner above the next door, aimed directly at your position.

They were always watching.

From the comfort and safety of their headquarters, they watched you get maimed by the creatures here over and over again. Whether it's a Wall Dweller sneaking up on you or Pandemonium ramming into the locker you're hiding in nonstop....they've seen it all.

So at this point, you didn't care that they could see your clear interest in the object on the ground.

One you were forbidden to take.

But to hell with them and their rules.

After all you've suffered through down here, you deserved to have some kind of self-defense tool that wasn't just a light source you had to conserve.

Why shouldn't you be allowed to protect yourself? They were going to kill all the creatures who escaped containment, anyways, so if you could kill them now, why not?

Unfortunately, HQ begged to differ, as the moment you crouched down to pick up the pistol, a familiar voice came onto the intercom:

"Do not touch the weapon. Leave it alone and it will be collected by authorized personnel later."

"...figures." You glared at the camera, standing up. "Why don't you tell your "authorized personnel" to put down those sea monsters instead?! I think I'm allowed to defend myself if-"

*pop*

"Back here again, are we?"

"Yeah..I guess.." Grumbling, you rubbed your neck as you looked up at the familiar trio of glowing blue eyes and angler lure. Even now, you still had a killer headache from the PDG detonation.

Then again, that was your own fault.

You didn't need to read the same document twice.

"I don't recommend defying them again. At least..not until you find a way to scramble their connection." Sebastian advised, sighing as he shook his head. "You gotta remember you have no rights down here. Neither of us do. It sucks but, we gotta deal with it."

"The IDS has gone haywire..but they're worried about me shooting through a glass window.." You huffed. "What if it wasn't even loaded?"

"Well I'm not sure if you know this, but prisoners and guns don't exactly go together. Just use what you've learned in the past to avoid the threats. It doesn't matter to them how "badly" you think you needed a firearm. You'll never get your hands on one, and I'm certainly not gonna sell any to you. Period."

"....I guess that pistol would've been useless if it didn't any rounds..."

"Anyway, here's what your overseer had to say on the matter. It's..kinda funny." Sebastian showed you another file, documenting your time and cause of death, along with a comment.

"The EXR-P stumbled across a small firearm that was left behind during the lockdown and defied direct orders to drop it, thinking they were an exception to the rule. This cannot happen again."

"Okay, that's bullshit. They're making it sound like I was an entitled asshole." You pointed out.

"Yeah, well, I can see why. Backtalking them is funny and all until your head pops. If you want them to take you seriously, you'll have to reach that crystal."

"Fine. I'll be a good little expendable and just focus on that." Putting a ferryman token on the table, you looked up at Sebastian. "Tell the guy downstairs I wanna continue where I was."

"Alright. Better not waste it." He swiped the coin, fading back into the darkness.

In the blink of an eye, you returned to the Blacksite, in the same room that you died in. It was clear of any blood that was left behind after your PDG went off, and of course..the pistol wasn't anywhere to be found.

It would have been useless anyways.

On the bright side, you did find a blacklight and some batteries in the drawers that you didn't check before, and you realized it's wiser to just use them to protect yourself.

'Okay. Let's just play it safe and keep going.'

#ideally they'd be badass #realistically urbanshade wouldn't let that slide #clanask #anonymous #roblox x reader #roblox pressure x reader #pressure x reader #sebastian solace #sebastian solace x reader

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steamy-linguine · 6 months ago

Text

LATE NIGHT BEER

Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader

Read part 2 here

A/N: OMG, HI??? It’s been forever and I haven’t posted in ages but I’ve been on a wolverine kick and thought I should dump a drabble. Anyway, it’s a slow burn and the reader is already given a mutant name, enjoy, might post a pt. 2 hehe

Warnings: None, all fluff, slow burn (sorry), old man logan (need him)

Word count: idk??? Sorry babes.

There you were. Sitting in the garden with your hair pushed behind your ear, a pen between your lips, and a journal in front of your eyes in the grass.

You were new, he could tell. He would’ve remembered a face like yours before.

“Who’s that?” He pointed in the direction of the girl and Scott did a double take.

“That’s Aurora. She can manipulate light,” Scott answered him before he carried on about some mission but Logan was too entranced to pay attention to his words.

You laid on your stomach with your legs in the air, swinging slowly. You pulled the pen from your lips and began scribbling something and he peered his eyes as if he could see that far, or so he wishes.

“Logan, come on we’ve gotta go.” Scott broke his concentration. Trying not to draw any attention to himself, he turned to follow Scott and leaving the area.

So it was like this for the next few weeks. He would walk into the garden and you would be in your usual spot with the same journal. He would even catch you sometimes in the den watching tv with Rogue. You had a laugh that carried down the hall and would fill the space with something warm that would bloom in his chest.

He hated it, because he knew he couldn’t have you. He was much older, not in an illegal way (of course) but you were young and full of life while he was well over 200 years old, and lived a life full of loss which shaped him into the bitter man he was today. One of the days, he was walking the hallway trying to find Storm for some favor that he had forgotten about when you both had crossed paths and for a moment your gaze caught one another.

You gave him a gentle smile and he instead turned his eyes away from yours and continued forward although just your presence made him forget whatever the fuck he was going to do or ask.

The next night, Logan laid in bed trying to fall asleep but something was keeping him awake or more so someone. Ever since he had known you were here, you always invaded his thoughts and it was every night. He could usually push them away and try to sleep but he couldn’t stop thinking about that same tender smile you gave him. It was already bad enough that everyone around him loved you and wouldn’t shut the fuck up about you and now you were invading his thoughts before bed.

He let out a heavy sigh as he got out of bed and knew what could help him in moments like this which was a nice cold beer. He walked the hallways of the mansion, which was filled with nothing but silence and the sounds of the crickets that sang their night song outside of the windows. He pushed open the door into the kitchen when the fridge door shut suddenly and the sound of a bottle popping caught his attention and he turned.

“Sorry, was I loud?” You asked him in a soft voice, your eyes held an apologetic gaze.

His eyes searched over your body and he shook his head, “No.”

The two stood in silence and Logan looked at the bottle in your hands. “That’s my beer, bub.”

You looked down and you could feel the heat rising in your cheeks and the lights in the kitchen flickered for a brief moment and he figured that you might be feeling a bit intimidated.

He shrugged, “You don’t need to be nervous. I also like a cold beer at night.”

He moved closer to you and you took a step back as he towered over you for a second before turning to open the fridge. His shoulders were broad and his arms were huge, you could tell under the white shirt that he was all muscle. Logan grabbed himself a bottle and closed the fridge.

He walked on the other side of the kitchen island and took a seat, popping open his beer also.

“Logan, right?” You broke the silence. He swallowed whatever was in his mouth and he nodded his head.

“Rogue speaks highly of you. She says you’re a friend.” Your voice is soft and you lean back against the fridge doors. He watches as you press the bottle to your lips and takes a drink.

“I’m sure she’s really the only one that thinks that.” His spoke in a hushed tone.

You smile, “Oh no, everyone thinks you’re pretty cool. I mean you are the wolverine.”

A ghost of a smirk graces his face and he looks down for a split second and back to you, whose eyes never left him.

“How are you liking the mansion?” He asks you trying to change the subject.

He notices there is a shift in you. You look around at your atmosphere and for a brief moment he can see there is a hint of sadness in your eyes. “It’s…nice.” You finally answer.

Logan doesn’t press for an answer from you because he knows that expression to well. You were hiding something and it was painful.

“Well, the students seem to like you.” He affirms.

“Is it only the students?” You ask him and Logan raises a curious eyebrow and you do the same to him.

God, I’m too old for this shit.

He would be lying if he said he didn’t want to just take you and kiss you right now. Lips pressed together and teeth pulling at the bottom of your lip. He wondered how soft your skin would feel under his rough hands, how sweet your voice would sound when you would call out his name and he wouldn’t even cover your mouth, he’d want to hear you.

“I’ve seen you quite a bit Logan.” Your voice pulls him out of his thoughts and he focuses on your words now. “But every time I’ve tried to talk to you, you just ignore me.” You chuckle out the last part.

Logan clears your throat, “I’m sorry I’m not good with conversation.”

“Rogue said that.”

“Of course she did.”

It’s quiet again as the two of you continue to drink and your eyes never leave one another.

“I should probably head to bed. Class is tomorrow and I’m here drinking your beer. Again, I’m really sorry I just assumed since it was in there-“

“It’s fine, bub. Just keep this”-He gestured to the beers-“Between us or else I won’t hear the fucking end of it from Scott.” He said to you as he stood on his feet and held his bottle in his hand.

You gave him that same sweet smile and you nodded as you wished him a goodnight and walked out.

He couldn’t get their conversation out of his head. He only went in the kitchen in hopes to drown his thoughts in the comfort of alcohol only to find the one thing that was being a distraction for him to be standing there in pajamas. It was comedic almost when he thought of it truly.

Logan didn’t think he would ever get another chance to talk to you again but on the next night when he couldn’t escape his thoughts, he went downstairs for another drink only to find you there already waiting for him with two cold beers on the counter.

A/N: CHEESY?? Maybe but pt. 2 will have smut…

#wolverine #deadpool and wolverine #logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #logan howlett xmen #hugh jackman #logan howlett x you #logan howlett x fem!reader #logan howlett x f!reader #marvel x reader #deadpool 3

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