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inupibaldspot · 1 year ago

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From you, For him

| Part 2 of At him, For him

Note ₊˚⊹♡ : Normal like no curse and stuff AU where Gojo is in love with Geto’s lover but this time he has the chance to change everything. This contains time travel!

I wrote it in a way you can understand what’s happening even if your don’t read part 1 btw

·:*¨༺ Part 1 ༻¨*:·

Gojo Satoru feels as if he can’t breathe.

He inhales. His chest hurts and he has a horrible attempt at keeping his glazing eyes in check as he fakes a smile and claps his hands together; there was a blur silhouette of Geto and you in a distance in tears ,both wearing matching rings.

“Woah—! Congratulations you two.” Shoko smiles wildly as she brings her hands close to her mouth,cheering. She briefly turns to Gojo and looks back at the couple. “Keep it together,Gojo… you’ve done that for years so why bother showing it now.”

Gojo lets out a laugh. “How cruel…” of course Shoko knows he has had this unrequited love for years. He breathes out. “I’ll head out for a second.”

Shoko nods as she reaches out and puts a cigarette and lighter in his pocket. He mutters a ‘thanks’ as he opens the door, cold breeze immediately greeting him. He breaths in again as his hands search for warmth in his pockets, turning to the alleyway.

Once when he is secluded, he brings out the piece of cigarette Shoko handed him earlier as he places it in between his lips, his hands bringing up the lighter with one on the lighter as the other hand wraps to protect the small flame.

He did not smoke often—more like he didn’t even the last last time he did. Gojo sucks in a breath, his throat feels hot but his chest is lighter, no-he remembers smoking back in high school simply because of Shoko and Geto. His only two friends would leave him for smoke breaks and he didn’t want to be left alone so he simply picked up the habit.

Gojo quit after he met you since he didn’t feel the need to tag along Geto and Shoko anymore.

Somewhere in between college,meeting you and now, he didn’t seem to care anymore.

“Hey kid.”

“Fuck!” Gojo jumps, his teeth biting into the cigarette as his eyes glare sharply in the direction of the sound. A man sits along the far end of the alley way, away from him.

The white haired man contains his jumped heartbeat as he walks over the man who called him over. His eyes trail the dress he wore; it was a traditional dark piece of clothing and beads around his hand. This man was cosplaying as a Priest.

He didn’t say the word ‘cosplay’ lightly because first, to begin with, the man in front had a ‘magic ball’ in front of him as if he was waiting for people to share their future and second, he wasn’t too serious because boy—! That monk had thick hair on his head, not the shaven look you’d normally see.

Gojo met scammers; near the shopping center, outside popular restaurant and tourist attractions, by his house ringing on his doorbell and right now, infront of him.

“What‘cha gonna tell me,old man.” Gojo says as he peers in, with also taking in a puff of smoke. “That I’ll be having a wife and two kids in my 30s… If it’s not that, it means one of you is lying.” By ‘one of you‘ refers to the scammer-I mean fortune teller he let in his house because he was bored.

“Hahaha-! That’s not it.” The man laughs as he faces Gojo directly, it was then when he finally notices a stitch mark which stretches across his forehead. “Just wondering if you’d ever regretted things… ‘things’ which you wished you could go back and change..”

Gojo laughs as he drops the half-piece of cigarette on the ground, stomping on it. No long interested. “Of course. I still wish I could go back in time and not erase my answers because my teacher made all the answers to the MCQ ‘c’ just when I didn’t study.”

Fuck—just why did Yaga REALLY do that? Gojo thinks back at the thought.

“That’s what I like to hear.” Gojo turns when he hears the man speak.

The man stands close—very close to him as his hands were making a V-sign (a peace sign) , fingers pointed near his eyes before the old man was stabbed into his eyes.

“Oh my god— shit! That hurt, old man.” Gojo places his hands on his eyes as he tries to soothe the pain from it. “What are you trying to do—huh…?”

He blinks once.

Twice.

He takes a deep breath. ‘It’s fine.’ He thinks to himself. ‘I’ve just lost my mind a tiny bit because y/n and Suguru are getting married.’

Gojo let out the breath and opened his eyes. Same scene. He was by a tree, near a building; he remembered this place being behind the building for the Class 1-3 who were studying the normal curriculum whereas advanced classes of class 4-5 students were in another building.

“What the actual heck is happening?” Gojo grumbles as he looks at the calendar on his phone. He was back in high school. He was sent back in time by about 7 years. “Fuck… I guess that man wasn’t a quack….”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“That’s why I need you to help.” You wiggled your toes in your shoes as you stand, smiling. The teacher,Yaga Masamichi, was in front of you, sitting on his chair as he continued to talk- maybe complain would be a better word- about a certain boy from the advanced class. “The boy is smart but he lacks discipline! He needs someone as hardworking as you and maybe it’ll rub on to him.”

You’ve heard of Gojo Satoru. You’ve never seen him but he was very infamous in high school . First, for being the son of the Gojo Estate. Two, for being a very tall, conventionally attractive boy. Third, for being a delinquent.

And that last part bothers you a lot, you’ve heard him get into fights, rumors of him smoking along the alleyway, ripping love letters into pieces and recently he skipped over all his tests making him fail his mid-terms.

You gulp. Hope he doesn’t beat you up…

Just then the door to the staff room slides open. You see enter, he was tall with white hair and lashes and the eyes in the most beautiful shade. No way this was Gojo right? He was so— beautiful.

Did he just make eye contact with you?

“Gojo come here.” Yaga calls out as he huffs. Gojo clears his throat as he walks to the teacher. When he was close enough Yaga continued. “This is y/n and I’m assigned to be your teacher. She’ll make sure you get all your works done plus make you study for the reassessment for the exam you skipped on.”

You watch Gojo who was towering beside you raise his hands and brought it up to his face, but from the angle you see the upward turn on the corner of his lips. Why was he smiling?

“Isn’t this -he points at you- from the normal department?” You huff when you were referred to as ‘this’. “You sure she is smart?”

“Don’t mess with y/n just because she isn’t from the advanced class— And also! In the last exam she was placed third overall , right below Suguru.” Yaga shouted back.

Your eyes trail back to him when the boy beside you seemed to still, You’ve heard of Geto Suguru too. Apparently a boy from the advanced class who was also popular for his good looks. But not only that— he had a delicate aura around him which makes people like him and to add on he was very much academically smart.

Gojo lets out a breath, as if it were more of an amazement in your opinion. You watch him take a small step back as he turns around and gives you a smile, god was unfair when he crafted this smile. “Then please take care of me, my tutor.” His face was close to yours.

‘My.’ You face almost burst with heat.

“Gojo stop bothering y/n.”

“Ouch—! That hurt sensei.”

Ever since then, once you hear the bell ring indicating school was over for the day, there would be Gojo poking his head into your class with a boyish grin plastered on his face, he takes your book-filled bag, slings it over his shoulder as you guys would walk to the library.

He sometimes passes by your classroom which is in the opposite building whenever he wants to go to the restroom in between classes—I mean he never did specify which restroom, hoping to catch a glimpse of you.

And when he does, his gaze flickered towards you, taking in the way your gaze reflected the warm sun from outside.It becomes clear to Gojo then that even now, despite everything—in between ever but of confusion, anger and guilt, he doesn't actually want to lose you. To his best friend. To anyone else.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Warm.

The way the curtains fluttered from the gentle wind, letting in a cool breeze and a glow of the evening sun and you. You sitting not even an arm's length away and just like the pace of his heart which picked up, pushing every worry he could still have further and further away because there was no space for those in that moment.

There was just you. And he could feel your presence a lot closer now, her warmth not far away from him.

God, you were beautiful.

So beautiful, he would not mind spending the rest of his life memorizing each feature belonging of yours.

“Stop staring at me.” You let down the pen you were holding, looking away from your homework.

“I can’t stop.” He admitted.

You huff, the smirk on Gojo widened as he could see a faint color rush to your cheeks. “Just do your work…” you wave him off as you grumble.

“I’m already done,love.” He continues his teasing.

You pink as you let out a small shriek at the nickname; you rush close to him as you cover your hands on his mouth. “Shut up—Gojo, I don’t want to be murdered by your fangirls because of this.”

He pecks your hands by pursing his lips forward, into the palm of your hands making you shriek once more pulling away.

“Gojo!” You glare at him as you reach your hands out and comically wipe your hands on his blazer as he laughs at your reaction. He leans forward as he looks at your books. “What’s this?” He asks.

“Ah…” you say as you bring out a book closer to him. “I’m studying for my entrance exam for this university.”

“Already?” But that’s like months away.

“Yeah.” Your voice is laced with a smile, gojo almost sees shining glitters surrounding you. “It’s like… kind of my dream as a kid to go here.”

Gojo laughs at how adorable you sounded. “Why that university though?”

“My parents-“ you turn almost too quickly to face him but then you stop yourself as you clear your throat. “My parents went there and that’s how they met and fell in love.”

“Ah…” Just like you and Geto… His heart pains again as he is reminded.

You bend down as you lean your head on the table, letting out a sigh with your hands on your sides. “I hope I get in though…”

“You will.” He says confidently. He knows you will. “Nerds like you will get in.”

“Gojo, I’m not a nerd.”

“Whatever you say, princess.”

“I’m not princess either!”

“Sure thing, love.”

“Oh— Gojo,stop that!”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“I need you to be serious, Satoru!”

He listens to you shout, even without turning to your direction he could basically sense you ‘huffing and puffing’, a habit you took till adulthood. He reaches out into the bushes, pushing the leaves away. “I am—! Sheesh, let me breathe.” Gojo laughs.

You two were currently near the patch of grass by the football ground; you had lost your key to the music club room—a room which was basically unused but you guys needed a room so you two can continue on with your study lessons.

You bend to look over the bushes while Gojo does around the bushes checking every shrub. “Oh lucky— someone’s cigarette and lighter is hidden here.” His smile widens as he reaches out for the gift, someone had kept here. “Satoru, don’t steal others' stash.” He puts it down upon hearing your words.

“So this where you go after classes,Satoru?”

He knew it was inevitable but he hoped he could extend it for as long as he could.

In front of him, holding a key was Geto Suguru, smiling at him with Shoko, a lollipop in her mouth peers over from beside him. “What you doing?”

Geto throws him the key at him which is catches instantly.He wanted the two of his friends meet you but he selfishly hoped it would be after like maybe, after you and Gojo date. Wow—what an optimistic! Gojo gulps, afterall what would he do if the two of you fall in love again?

“You found it!” You jump, unaware that the two figures were his friends. You turn your head to look at him, at him. Despite Geto Suguru standing near you, you looked at Gojo. The white haired boy’s heart pulsed, the slow and steady pump now erratic and heavy with emotions. Just you looking at him with a smile, at him like he was the only one on the planet m. For the first time.

“Who is this?” Shoko says as walks to to the bush and sticks her hands in. You laugh. “That cigarette was yours?” Shoko nods.

“This… this is y/n.” Gojo grumbles, speaking low. “She is helping me with my reassessment.”

“That’s what you get for skipping assignments and test.” Shoko teases.

Geto laughs.

Gojo eyes at your reaction and sighs in relief when you were still acting the same. Thank god, there was nothing of that ‘love at first sight’ going on. “I don’t need to take those test.Even Yaga knows I’m smart.”

Your roll your eyes. “I guess we won’t have those study sessions of now on, Gojo.”

“Wha— no! I need it.” Gojo jumps, as he comically starts shaking you, as if he got the most shocking news of the century. “No- nope! You can’t do that. I need you—!”

“Geto, let’s get going now.” She turns. Shoko looks over to Gojo, they make eye contact and the brown hair girl smiles.

He knows that smile.

That’s the smile Shoko gives when ever she figures out something. And equipped with a teasing look, Gojo is certain she knows that he is in love with you. “Good luck,Gojo.” With his studies or with you? Geto gives you guys a wave as he also turns around and walks way.

From then onwards, it’s as if the friendship which you guys have in the future,college days were happening now. Hanging out, study sessions, sometimes sneaking into parties and café date; the four of you. Just like right now as you’re in Gojo’s room, a flat rented nearby your future college.

“No way.” Shoko starts. “We’re all going to be attending the same college.” Her smile widens when you cheer and jump into her arms, she quickly looks over and sees a fond smile on Gojo’s face…hilarious!

Geto laughs as he takes a sip on his coffee as the two girls snuggle closer to each other. “Did you know about this?” He peers over to Gojo who finally seemed broken from his trance—you.

Gojo nods. “Yeah… I mean I’ve seen her study for her exams.” He clears his throat. “Have you played the new ‘digimon’ game?” He changes topic, whenever Geto speaks of you or to you, it makes him feel small. This isn’t good. He relishes this yet it was suffocation. Gojo would never hate his best friend—never, but sometimes it’s insecurity and sometimes it’s guilt which swallows him whole. ‘Is this okay?’

Shoko breaks away from the hug and she pulls on your cheeks fondly, she thinks you’re the most adorable human as she turns to Geto. “Smoke break.” Geto smiles and nods, following behind Shoko who led the way.

Gojo turns to you, eyes carefully trying to take in your presence that is before he notices something—your eyes are ‘lingering.’ He follows your gaze, carefully in the direction.

You were looking at Geto.

All emotions are wiped from his face. Gojo knew this could happen, you can fall in love with Geto all over again. He was the one who was messing with fate and time, yet— it hurt.

You turn to Gojo, your face tilts up to meet his gaze as your lips turn into a teasing smile which quickly flatters when you see Gojo’s expression. Your heart settles and softens, you relax and reach over the table to grab one of his hands. “…Satoru?”

He turns to you, and smiles. “Yes?”

“Are you okay?”

“No…just thinking.”

You gulp wondering why it felt as if suddenly there was a huge rift when they were barely centimeters apart; for someone as big as Gojo his voice was so—so small. “…About?” You were almost scared to ask.

“Are you in love with Suguru?” Gojo beats himself for this, he has gone and done it now!

You tilt your head. “where did that come from?”

“Friends don’t give each other love-filled lingering looks.” He scoffs. “So tell me-“ no he was being pushy. Gojo felt so backed into a corner for a moment but when he locked eyes with you, he was hurting you with the way he was acting.

He stands up. “I think I need some fresh air.”

“If I did love him, what would you do?”

Were you testing him?

“Please—please don’t fall for anyone but me…” he mumbles.

You watch as he slumps down on the floor, on his knees, burying his face into his hands, curling up almost as if to protect himself. Gojo is no longer confident egoistic boy you know, right now he seemed so weak; as if he was tired after a long journey. “I have surrendered myself to you for all of time; past, present and future I am yours…”

Your head is dizzy with all this information. You need time, you need clarity. Gojo feels like he is losing himself in his thoughts and also rambles with no coherence to what his mind has to say. “I don’t know what do do with this emotion but if I try to stop them they overflow and-”

His heart seemed to thud to a stop in his chest and then start up again erratically, hands seemed to be incapable of doing anything other than hang close by his sides.

“Satoru, I love you…” you whisper and it is only then when he realizes you were also on your knees in front of him, thumbs wiping tears from his cheeks. “I’m sorry for joking— I don’t love Geto. It’s you I love. Don’t hate me?”

How can he hate you when you were still his everything: you were his everything even when you were intertwining hands with someone else?

“It’s me?” He breathes out. “Did you say you’re in love with me?”

You nod.

“Oh wow.” He says which makes you laugh.

“I love you…” He says, years of these words inside the depth of his heart, was dug out. “From the bottom of my soul, I’m head over heels for you, my love.”

You almost cry at his tone, so gentle.

He caresses your hair, tenderly, running his fingers through the soft, silky strands. When he eventually has his hands on your cheeks; your cheeks flushing as he gazes at you, captivated by your presence. Your eyes sparkle with wonder, your lips plush and rosy.

You are flawless, perfect in this moment and beautiful in his embrace.

Gojo didn’t even realize when he started to get so close to you. His lips pressed against her pulse in a kiss before he nipped the skin.His limbs burned where he touched you, you were warm. So it was cold after all, he realized somewhere along the line. His hands were freezing, clinging to your lower back.

Gojo wants to stay like this, holding you for a minute longer or forever.

A whisper in his head was telling him to let go—that it wasn’t right, but Gojo wouldn't. He was hanging onto a life line, it hurt, but if he let go now, he would drown.

Gojo was vulnerable. And you kiss him back. Kiss him till he is fine. Kiss him until all his worries fly— till he understands, you are equally so stupidly in love with him.

Unbeknownst to you two, Shoko peeks over inside the door, a small crack reveals what’s inside “You think they’re done?”

Geto laughs. “Of course not…but give them more time and they’ll be in bed.”

Shoko laughs lightly making sure she isn’t spotted yet as she then peers over to the taller boy beside her. “What about you? You good?”

“Yeah… it was just a crush.” Geto looked at Shoko from the corner of his eyes and his lips curl into a smile. Shoko was always so observant.

Taglist ˙✧˖° 🫧 ⋆｡—I tagged people who voted for time travel! Hope you guys don’t mind: @uuu55r64z46 @leviswifey-act62 @royaleashlyn @bakananya @bejwls @ritsatoru@washeduphasbeen @satorus-babygirl

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m4tthewmurd0ck · 12 days ago

Text

Strawberry Sweet

── Azriel x Fem!Witch/Fae Hybrid Reader

also featuring platonic best friend! cassian x reader, and platonic best friend! rhysand x reader

I ~ INTRODUCTIONS ── PART TWO ── TABLE OF CONTENTS

based on [THESE] lyrics

obviously not book canon. references to battles that didn’t happen in the books, ooc inner circle, etc… 🤷🏻‍♀️ no use of y/n but i do use she / her. no descriptions other than reader being shorter than all 3 bat boys. reader is also able to winnow.

When you first met Azriel, you were sure he hated you.

With the rest of the inner circle, it had been easy. You met the High Lord first after saving his life, and you remembered the day like it happened yesterday.

Rhysand had taken to the skies one night, flying over Velaris and looking down at everything below. An ambush on Day Court had all the high lords on edge, with the message that the attackers weren’t finished being loud and clear. He knew it was bad when Helion reached out personally.

When he was attacked, it was 5 against 1. He ended up plummeting nearly 1,000 feet. As luck would have it, you were just returning home from a very late night trip to the markets.

Ever the quick thinker, you snapped your fingers, and all of your purchased goods floated into your home and all put themselves in their proper place. Then you turned your attention to the man falling from the sky. You held out a hand, and a blue light so dark that they almost resembled shadows, flowed from your palm and slowed the man’s descent just before he hit the ground.

You used your other hand to turn you both invisible until you were able to get him into your home.

To keep a long story short, because that was a tale for another time, it took a lot longer to heal him than you thought. You don’t know how much time passed, all you know is that it was completely dark outside when he fell but when you finished, you could see the sun was about to rise.

Rhysand woke up not long after you finished healing his wings.

You anticipated the first question he asked, so you beat him to it. Giving him a brief version, you explained that you were half witch, half fae. You didn’t explain your family history, or how you came to live alone. There was a sense of relief when he didn’t ask more questions, though you could tell by the look on his face that he wanted to.

“Not that I don’t love hosting you, but shouldn’t you be going? I’d imagine a lot of people are worried about you.”

You felt him trying to get into your mind, and wished you could’ve taken a picture of his face when you told him that wouldn’t be possible unless you allowed it. Centuries of practice ensured that even the strongest mind reader wouldn’t be able to access your thoughts so easily.

When he finally felt strong enough to stand, you followed closely behind him as he headed to the door.

“I’m not officially a healer, obviously, but if you ever need help, you may return. I only ask that you don’t tell anyone that I’m here. If word gets to the wrong person—”

“I won’t tell a soul, you have my word. You’ve saved my life, and I owe you a debt far greater than anything I could pay you.”

You shook your head and insisted you didn’t need, or want, money.

“Well if there’s ever anything you need, no matter how big the request, please come find me.”

“Thank you, High Lord. I will keep that in mind.”

He managed a small smile. “You used magic to stitch part of my wings back together, please, at least call me Rhys. Or Rhysand if it makes you more comfortable.”

You nodded and after he thanked you again for saving his life, and after you said you did it because you wanted to help and not because you wanted something, he took to the skies. You wondered if you’d ever see him again.

But there was still a war going on, and you shouldn’t have been that surprised when he returned a few weeks later. What did surprise you, and even made you a little angry, was that he had not 1, but 2 people with him. Not living under a rock, you recognized them right away. And this was how you ended up meeting Cassian and Nesta.

That anger disappeared when you saw just how injured Cassian was. He could barely stand, even Nesta was having to help keep him upright.

Turning around, you went back into your home and snapped your fingers. Seconds later, everything on your dining table lay in neat piles on the floor. You were thankful that you’d opted for a larger table, and don’t think he would’ve fit on your bed.

You got to work healing him the moment Rhys set him down on the table. Although you worked fast in an attempt to ease his pain, it was clear he was still in a lot of it.

“I need to put him to sleep. He has broken bones and I promise none of you want him awake when I put them back in place.” You looked up at Nesta then, and for the first time since entering your home, her gaze left her mates, and she looked at you.

Unable to speak, she only nodded, silently giving you permission. He was out not long after that, and you worked for another 2 hours until you were satisfied that he’d be alright.

Nesta finally spoke up then, asking if you were going to wake him up. You explained that while putting him to sleep was fairly easy, you didn’t think it was the best idea to wake him up. That required going deep into his mind and wandering around until you found the part of it where he was waiting. That act in itself would give you access to every thought and memory that Cassian has ever had, and you didn’t like to do that to anyone without their explicit permission.

After explaining that it wouldn’t be long before he woke up on his own, as you redid one of Cassian’s bandages, you noticed Nesta give Rhys a look. He only shook his head and whispered that he trusted you.

You were right as you knew you would be, and it was just 10 minutes later that the general of the Night Court was opening his eyes and sitting up.

“Why… am I on a table??”

Nesta hated showing any sign of being vulnerable, so none were more shocked than Rhys and Cassian when she walked over to you and pulled you in for a hug.

“Thank you,” she spoke softly. “I don’t know how we can repay you.”

You smiled when the 2 of you stepped apart. “No payment is needed, or wanted. I promise—” It felt like all the air left your body when Cassian took his turn with a hug, only he lifted you off of the ground and seemed to be trying to squeeze the life out of you.

“Cass, I happen to like her and would appreciate you not killing her.”

“Sorry! Just, you know, thanks for saving my life.“

After they left , all repeatedly thanking you on their way out, you wondered if what just happened was some sort of fever dream.

Over the next few months, the 3 would occasionally pop in, but all for different reasons. Rhys was still fascinated by you being half witch, half fae. All he wanted to do was sit and ask questions, and he’d hang on to every word you spoke as you answered. Cassian, who insisted you call him Cass, did come to you for healing. But for ‘injuries’ he very much could’ve handled on his own. He healed faster than a normal human, but you lost count of the amount of times you opened your door, or he opened it and barged in, telling you about a paper cut or the smallest bruise.

The first time Nesta came to visit, and you greeted her with “Lady Nesta”, you almost laughed at the daggers she sent your way. You quickly learned it was just Nesta, or Nes. During her second visit, the subject of fighting somehow came up. You mentioned your basic knowledge of hand-to-hand combat, but that you wished you were more advanced, or at least knew how to fight with a weapon. Ever since then, she’d come to visit at least once a week to try and convince you to join her on training with the Valkyries.

“I don’t know that I’d actually be any good,” you admitted, adding on that you were so used to fighting with your powers that you genuinely couldn’t remember what it was like to do so without them.

A month of pestering persuading had you finally agreeing to sit in on a training session with the Valkyries. And that was how you came to meet Azriel.

The following day, Nesta showed up at your front door bright and early. Well not bright, since the sun had yet to even rise, but with how you felt as you slowly got dressed, you knew it was definitely early. She assured you that Valkyries didn’t always train so early, but she wanted to get some one-on-one training with you.

After a brief discussion in which she promises you’ll end up having fun, you ask if all of her family will be training. She says no, with the Valkyries it’s usually only her and Cass. Rhys occasionally pops his head in to observe, but has been busy with everything going on so not so much lately.

“Oh I forgot you haven’t met everyone yet. Feyre, my sister and Rhys’ mate, prefers to train solo so you probably won’t see her today. Then there’s Azriel, he used to train with us a lot, well help train the women, but Rhys has been sending him out a lot lately. What with everyone being on edge from the attacks, we’re all eager to find out who’s behind it all.”

She explains where to go and you take her hand, winnowing you both to the training grounds.

“There she is!” You jump a little at Cass’ voice. He’s all the way on the other side of the room, but so loud that it’s as if he’s right next to you. He puts down a stack of papers and quickly makes his way over to you and Nesta. “You’re just in time, look.” He holds up his hand, showing you the tiniest of paper cuts on his left index finger.

You can’t help but laugh as you take his hand in yours and use your powers to close the cut.

Nesta shakes her head. “For a warrior, you sure are a big baby.” She turns to you, “you can just tell him to suck it up next time.”

Cass gasps, putting his hands on his face. “She’d never do that! At least she cares about me.”

“Do I really though?” You tilt you head.

“Hey! Just for that I’m not going easy on you today.”

“Wait you’re training me?”

“I’m going to take that as wait really! Wow I’m so lucky Cassian the general of the Night Court is training me. Now chop chop, let’s go!” He gently pushes you towards one of the larger mats on the ground.

You turn back to Nesta, who only shrugs and mouths good luck, before joining the other women.

Much like when you were focused on healing Rhys and Cass, time goes by in a blur. Before you know it, you’ve managed to knock Cass onto his back for the third time. You look at a clock nearby and find that nearly 2 hours have gone by.

“Woo!” The 2 of you stop and turn towards the door and see Feyre leaning against the door frame, clapping as she calls out your name and shouts his congratulations.

Cass rolls his eyes, but smiles when you hold out a hand to help him to his feet. “You kicked my ass today, I’d be a little upset if I wasn’t so impressed.”

When you use your powers to immediately dry all of your sweat, you’re happy you get to use your powers for more mundane things like this.

“Ahem!”

Now it’s you turn to roll your eyes. Still, you face one of your hands towards Cass, and he’s also dry just a few seconds later.

“Thank you,” he gives a dramatic bow before telling you all he’s going to go shower.

Before you can ask why he made you do that if he was just planning to shower anyway, Feyre finally approaches you and Nesta. You become aware of how affectionate the inner circle can be, when Feyre pulls you in for a hug, not saying anything for a moment.

“You saved Rhys, I owe you everything. Thank you,” she whispers.

“I promise, you don’t owe me a thing,” you shake your head. “I’m just happy he ended up falling outside of my home. If it had been anywhere else I wouldn’t have seen it, or I wouldn’t have been able to slow his fall.”

Cass pops his head back in the room. “Anyone know if Az is coming by to train later? I couldn’t get a hold of him earlier.”

Feyre nods, “he got back less than an hour ago, I think he told Rhys he’d be by here at some point. Oh, never mind.”

The last part of her sentence comes when she looks toward the door, this time towards the ground. You watch as what looks like a series of small clouds slowly makes their way towards you. Upon closer inspection, you realize they’re shadows.

“Azriel is a shadowsinger, right?” When Nesta nods, you continue. “Do they often travel like this without him?”

“No,” Feyre watches them get closer. “I mean they can if he sends them somewhere but I don’t see why he’d send them here when he knows it’s only us…”

When the shadows finally reach you, they move faster as if they’re excited. One makes its way to the top of your head, swirling around your face. It’s a cool, almost ticklish sensation. Another weaves its way around your legs, while the last one circles your hands, as if it can sense the power you hold.

Healer.

“No,” you shake your head. “I mean I guess technically yes, among other things. But I’m still working on my healing abilities so—” You look up to find Nesta, Feyre, and Cass all staring at you. “What?”

Cass just stares at you, now with his mouth open in shock.

“We didn’t say anything…”

“Wait did — were you talking to the shadows??”

Now you were confused. “Yes… it asked, well it said I was a healer and I was just explaining—”

“You can understand them?!”

“I… they don’t speak to all of you?” You watched in amazement as the shadows continued to explore you.

Cass finally breaks his silence. “No. We’ve never heard them say anything. How the hell…”

Magic. Friend.

You smile. Holding your hands out and palms facing up, you produce 2 dark blue clouds a lot similar in appearance to the shadows. They swarm your clouds, but return to you once they realize that they’re not real shadows.

Feyre observes this, a small smile on her face. “Interesting.”

All at once, 2 of the 3 shadows stop their movements, then quickly make their way back out of the room. A minute later, the shadowsinger himself enters the room.

“Dude!” Cass began to make his way towards his brother, but Nesta elbows him in the ribs as she grabs his arm to keep him in place.

When Azriel looks at you, he freezes. He can only stand and watch as the shadow that remained in the room continues to move between your hands and your head. But when you look up at him, your first thought is that you’ve somehow offended him with your actions, so you drop your hands and step back, closer to Nesta.

The lone shadow finally returns to Azriel, hovering around his right ear. You wish you could hear what it’s telling him.

You’re further embarrassed when all Azriel does is quickly look away from you before he asks Cass to speak to him.

Once the 2 men are out of the room, you voice your concerns out loud. “I should apologize when Azriel comes back in.”

Nesta looks at you, clearly confused. “What, why would you apologize? You haven’t done anything.”

“I just… I don’t think he liked that his shadows were paying so much attention to me. I don’t know if he heard me speaking to one but I don’t want to offend him or cause any trouble.”

Feyre’s expression softened. She replaced Nesta at your side, and placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. “That’s just Azriel, at least with someone he isn’t familiar with yet. It’s not often we bring anyone new around. He just needs time.”

You didn’t stay much longer after that, chatting to the 2 Archeron sisters for only a few more minutes before making an excuse to leave. It was obvious why you were in such a rush, but you were grateful that neither woman tried to persuade you to stay.

When you finally winnowed back to your home, you forced yourself to take a shower before collapsing onto your bed. Maybe a nap was what you needed.

You couldn’t help but think about Azriel. Everyone else was quick to warm up to you, and you still thought that you offended him by how you interacted with his shadows.

As you lay there and waited for sleep to pull you under, you wondered if he’d end up hating you.

what a shitty place to end it hahdjdnsdkc BUT part 2 picks up right where this leaves off! if i kept going we’d end the chapter at like 6k which is too long for my liking.

TAGLIST ── FULL! If you want to be notified when I post for this story, follow my backup which i’ll tag in a comment, and make sure you turn notifications on.

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bruciemilf · 7 months ago

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I know this is a DC blog but I NEED dad Logan. Get that murder teddy bear some kids ASAP.

Fancast + non canon Headcanons ahead.

BOBBY MY BELOVED / 16

“Sure everything in my life is terrible. But at LEAST I’m gay”

Makes pop culture references Logan doesn’t understand. “Logan threw the first brick at stonewall” “what are you SAYING” “he’s an ally”

Can, will, and has gaslight Logan into thinking he’s homophobic just for not letting Bobby do what he wants

Stole a beer from Logan once and they found him drunk crying at 3 am. He calls Logan to apologize about it. “I’m sO sorryyy. You know I love you??” “Go to bed” “noOoo” Logan is next to him.

Has a secret YouTube channel and everyone watches for Logan interactions specifically

Mabel Pines coded

KITTY… that’s his half pint your honor. / 17

Logan is terrified. Why are you such an easy kid. Why aren’t you rebelling? Why isn’t defiance bleeding on your fists?

Why aren’t you clawing and biting and snarling for your freedom? Why aren’t you being a kid? Who do I have to skin-

Daughters are not supposed to exist quietly.

I hc that Kitty’s family is extremely unsupportive of her being a mutant, — but they’re just traditional in general. Specifically she’s petrified of being around/existing along men.

Certified babysitter when Logan’s not around. She’s so big sister.

“guys!1!11!!!! mr. Logan said not to do that!1!1!1”

Logan BEGS her to be a shitty teenager for like 10 minutes. Be bratty!!! Tell him to fuck off! Throw a tantrum!!!! “But I’m not a kid.” “You’re MY kid.”

JUBILEEE daddy’s girl / 15

Problem Child TM

Plays Rock n Roll by Avril Lavigne at 4 am to piss Logan and her siblings off when they annoy her

Grounded all the time but if she fake cries Logan will shamefully relent.

Always puts Logan’s patience to the test because she anticipates him leaving/giving up on her

Foster child with issues. She spent half her life looking for people and the other half being abandoned by them. This won’t be any different.

Except Logan is very good at fighting destiny.

Your honor I don’t CARE Logan is made to be a girl dad!!!!

“On the spectrum. Not saying which one”

STRONG she/they energy

Most affectionate with Logan out of all the kiddos. Her love language is terrible pancake making (Logan eats them anyway) and cat cuddling.

ADHD icon

LAURA (murder baby) / 7

Brings dead birds/mice to her family members (affectionate)

Charles has the bright idea to enroll her in school with the kids. “It’s important for children to socialize with peers their own ages.” “Can’t socialize if they’re all DEAD.”

That meme of the little boy and his father with an arrow in his shoulder

Youngest child privilege

Steals Bobby’s phone and shoot’s hilariously off angle family vlogs. One of them includes her stealing Logan’s motorcycle while he runs after her

#am I… an x men Stan….. maybe so.#x men #wolverine #logan howlett #logan xmen #bobby drake #kitty pryde #jubilee #laura kinney #text #text post #fancast #WOLVERINE FANDOM INTERACT CHALLENGE

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meiieiri · 3 months ago

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pretty woman.

he lives in the world of leather, grease and speed. he knows he's absolute trash, but what's a guy gotta do to have you, a pretty woman wrapped in silks, pearls and smiles, to spare him just. one. glance?!

pairings. biker sukuna x rich!reader

genre. opposites attract, fluff with slight angst-ish (you know me by now, pls skskdskfjskd), references to smut.

notes. yes, i'm still alive, please i haven't been here for months bc i've been so held up at work TT anyway, i thought of this while i was going home when i heard this busker singing "oh, pretty woman" by roy orbison~

He isn't sure how this happened. Maybe he smoked the wrong mushroom or some shit. It was supposed to a regular evening terrorizing the population of Tokyo with the sounds of their bikes revving to the goddamn afterlife or just until someone calls the police. But this is all his goddamn fault, parking in a gas station smack dab in Minami-Aoyama of all places where artists, celebrities, and pompous heiresses camp out at the jazz clubs here which Sukuna absolutely does not understand.

What's so good about a guy choking on some piece of metal that makes a sound similar to a dying seal? But oh well, pompous art for equally pompous people, I guess.

You walked out of that jazz club like you were straight out of a Hollywood movie, the kinds he used to steal from the local DVD rentals in Shinjuku. You were listening to something your friend has to say and your demure chortles invade the very air like the very melody could make the stars tumble to the ground out of pure jealousy because nothing could be quite as radiant - no, what the hell is he saying? He's a biker, not a poet. Even if he were, he's a shit one for using that stomach-churning cliché piece of word vomit.

Fucking gross. Sukuna stomps on his half-finished cigarette.

You were just hot - no, not quite the word - Sukuna scowls frustratedly - ah, there it is, pretty. Too pretty for you to even run around the same circles as him. The Dior mini bag you were carrying makes Sukuna postulate that you were probably born with a silver spoon in your mouth, you must have gone to an exclusive all-girls high school, afterwards, you must have been sent by your snobbyass parents to finish your studies overseas.

Even if he were to approach you right now, Sukuna grimaces at the thought, you'd probably run for Beverly fucking Hills.

Sukuna watches as you help your friend inside a taxi, waving them goodbye. "Please drop her off safely," he heard you say to the driver just as you shut the car door. Sukuna quirks an eyebrow when he spots you looking left, then right, and then left again before taking off your high heels, unafraid to look improper despite your pretty get-up. But your feet must be aching like hell after dancing all night to Roy Orbinson and Frank Sinatra.

You hurriedly head to your car that, as fate would have it, is parked in the same gas station he's hanging around. He doesn't say a word when you look at him a little fearfully when you approach your car that was parked just behind his Ninja H2, your eyes glaze over his leather jacket, his scandalously tight riding jeans, his pierced lip and tattooed face.

He tilts his head in a polite gesture that begs to convey: "Hey, I'm not gonna bite, kid."

Momentarily frozen, you had to shake yourself awake and you apologetically bow your head for staring too long. Slipping into the driver's seat, you fumble with your keys, struggling to turn on the engine. "H-huh?" you gasp. "Ah, no...no...come on..." You try to turn the key again and again hoping to get a reaction from your Benz but nothing happens.

Sukuna snickers slightly when he sees you mouth the word "shit" from his view of the windshield. For a pretty little thing, you seemed more like a spitfire than a delicate flower. You step out immediately going to pop the hood, struggling slightly but you somehow manage.

He watches on as you struggle to even look at what needs to be fixing. Finally, when he sees you tinkering around the parts, he speaks up, "It's probably the battery, miss."

"I...I don't need help, I'm fine," you insist despite him not offering. To be honest, Tokyo's a safe city so, even if you had to stay the night at this gas station waiting for help or the tow-truck - whichever comes first - it's not exactly an issue. The issue is havng someone...like him...hanging precariously around.

Now, you understand. You shouldn't judge a book by its cover, but if that book has everything your parents warned you about - tattoos, piercings, an unfriendly scowl - you'd settle for slowly putting it back on the shelf.

"The gas station has a power pack, you might wanna borrow it," Sukuna offers you some advice. "You got any jumper cables on you?"

"I'm sorry?" You blink obliviously. "I-I don't-?"

"Those bright orange things - ah, whatever - you probably have it in the trunk," Sukuna pushes himself off his bike. He's full of shit, playing knight in shining armor right now, but you look like you're about to cry. He slaps your hands away when you try to pull out the radiator.

"Ow! What are you doing?!"

"You want your car to explode or some shit?" Sukuna hisses. "Don't fuck around with anything else. I'll go see if I can borrow their power pack."

You look at him in disgust. Everything about this mystery man is just so infuriatingly vulgar, and he doesn't even wait for your permission, he's just stomping off towards a random gas station attendant, muttering under his breath about clueless rich kids and their cars. You scowl at his retreating figure, rubbing your hand where he slapped it away, lips parting in indignation at what you hear.

"Can't tell a spark plug from a bottle of champagne..."

"Excuse me?"

"Ah, you're excused, don't worry," Sukuna says as he returns, the power pack in one hand and a bundle of thick jumper cables in the other, the gas station's dim lights casting sharp shadows across his face, your nerves seem to fray even further.

Though, truth is, you're stuck between being grateful and horrified. If you don't make it back home, you weren't gonna hear the end of it from your parents about how Tokyo is dangerous and how you shouldn't be wandering around the city alone when you have bodyguards. But, it's all thanks to this stranger, a questionable-looking one at that, that you might just make it home tonight before your parents even notice you snuck out.

"Pop the hood," he orders, his tone flat but not unkind.

Your first instinct is to snap back. Just who the hell does he think he is? Assuming that you needed help when you had everything under control. That's obviously a lie, seeing as you were about to yank out your Benz's radiator. It'd be a nightmare explaining that to your parents and your insurance company. Surrendering, you uncross your arms, and pop the hood again.

It's infuriating how people always liked to assume that you needed help with everything. But that's just how it goes when you're an only child, and your parents had to undergo six rounds of IVF to have you because they spent most of their young adult life building their fortune that they forgot to have kids in the middle of all that. A spoiled brat - it wouldn't be a stretch to call you that. Still, it stings a bit because you never wanted to become one.

Nothing hurts you more than the thought of you growing up not knowing how to do anything for yourself.

"This happen to you often, princess?" Sukuna asks, his calloused and strong hands working their magic on your car, clearly, he's ressurected a lot of engines with the way he doesn't seem to flinch at the bitter scent of gasoline and burnt rubber.

"Don't call me that," you mutter. "And no, I don't make a habit of getting stranded since not all of us have experience with--" You gesture vaguely at the cables, his leather jacket, the bike, the car, and this entire situation. "-this."

Sukuna snorts, shaking his head. "Yeah, I figured. People like you don't get their hands dirty."

There it is again - people like you. The words grate on your nerves like nails on a chalkboard, but what stings more is the way he says it, like he's already decided everything about you just from your shoes, your car, your voice, where you like to hang out. It's honestly disgusting, but the truth always has an element of hurt hidden in it, right?

"Right, because you know everything about me," you mutter, a flash of hurt appearing on your features.

You don't know why, but the way he says it - so casual, so certain - makes your heart ache. He's not even insulting you, why would he have to? He doesn't know you, and you haven't done anything to offend him. He just...sees right through you and he's decided that you were just another shallow rich kid that doesn't belong in the real world.

And maybe you don't.

You're pulled from your thoughts by the sudden roar of your car's engine. Sukuna straightens, wiping his hands against his jeans before shutting the hood with a heavy almost contrite clunk. "There, good as new."

You let out a breath you didn't know you'd been holding. Looks like this chance encounter is about to end. It's silly, feeling a little anxious at finally being able to go home which also spells that you'll probably never see this stranger again, but this demeaning and embarrassing situation happens to be your first encounter with the real world, the world outside the bubble your parents have confined you in.

And it hurts pulling away from it now and so soon too.

"Thank you," you say, quieter this time and you hate how small you sound and feel.

He shrugs, already walking back to his bike. "Don't mention it."

You watch him for a moment as he haphazardly lights a cigarette in the middle of a gas station, his face partially obscured by shadows but you manage to make out his frustrated frown when the lighter doesn't work. He's so focused on lighting the damn stick that he doesn't notice you bringing your own lit lighter to the end of his cigarette.

"Didn't think pretty girls like you were into bad habits like smoking," he exhales, a crooked grin tugging at his lips.

"You'd be surprised."

For too much of your life, you've had to put up with reminders from your folks like don't sit like that, don't do this, don't speak like this, don't go there, it's unbecoming of someone like you. And you're getting fucking sick of it, if only your parents could discover the many cigarettes and scratchers you've collected over the years, then, maybe they'd piece together that you only went to a jazz club tonight with every intention to end up in a nightclub later on.

You're self-destructive, he's dangerous.

And this entire exchange could cause your high-strung parents to suffer simultaneous strokes.

"Yeah?"

"Really," you rub your eyelid. "So...why'd you help me?"

Sukuna pauses mid-inhale, his crimson gaze flicking toward you through the haze. For a moment, you think he might say something serious, something straight out of those Audrey Hepburn movies where the girl falls for the greaser. But, that's kinda gross anyway, so you're a little thankful when he quips.

"Hell if I know. Maybe I'm just a sucker for pretty faces."

You blush, your heartbeat stuttering. Before you can respond, he waves you off dismissively, as if the moment never happened and should never be spoken of again like most moonlight rendezvous's.

"Now get outta here before I start charging you for my time."

"Ah right, sorry," you are suddenly reminded of paying your dues, so you take out your wallet, handing him a wad of yen bills. "Tell me if it's not enough. I can run to an ATM."

Sukuna stares at the bill, a little insulted. But tonight seems to be about judgmental assumptions anyway. He laughs - a low dark sound that makes the hair on your arms stand on end.

"What the hell do I look like, huh? A roadside service?" His voice isn't harsh, but the edge of amusement makes your cheeks burn. "Keep it, you might need it later on when your tires give way. Don't tell me you don't check the air pressure on them too."

"It's not like that!" you argue. "I just don't want to owe you anything. Just take it, and go buy yourself a beer or something, and then, we can move on with our lives, okay?"

"Owe me, huh?" He tilts his head, the faintest of smirks tugging at his lips. His gaze locks with yours and you take a step back until your back hits the driver's seat door, and there's something sharp and deliberate in the way he says: "Fine. You wanna pay me back?"

You nod.

"Tell me your name. Since you nearly threw a damn fit when I called you princess."

"What?"

"Your name," he shrugs as if it's the most casual thing in the world. "Otherwise, I can help you continue pulling out that radiator of yours."

"Are you threatening me?! Just when I was about to change my opinion on you!"

"Really? You'd do that for me?" Sukuna feigns gratitude, placing his hand over his heart. "I didn't think you were that stingy with your name. Unless you don't have one, now that's just pathetic. Even trashy sons of bitches like me have one of those."

"Fine, it's Y/N. And go clean up that mouth of yours, it's like you can't go a full sentence without profanity."

"Pretty name," Sukuna says, ignoring your last remark. You blush at the way he says it - low and rough, like it's a secret just between you two.

Your breath hitches and you roll your eyes, slipping into the driver's seat again, shutting the door with a final clunk. "You're insufferable," you mutter, your cheeks still warm, as you begin to drive away.

"No, my name's Sukuna! Drive safe, rich girl. Can't have your fancy car breaking down again," he whistles, leaning against his H2, waving cheekily, a cigarette dangling between his slotted lips.

He smirks when you roll down your car window only to flash him your middle finger.

"She's pretty, but she's a damn bitch," he mutters, though this time, there's a faint hint of a smile in his voice as he slips on his helmet.

A week has passed and the memory of Sukuna is still clinging to you like the scent of a too-sweet perfume, the ones that girls like you pre-order months in advance before it's even launched. You feel like an idiot, craving to see him again, when absolutely nothing happened between you. But when your mind wanders over to that random biker with too many tattoos, too much attitude but too little manners, you just wanna ruin your mom's expensive Picasso collection in the living room before you could even admit it out loud.

You're now standing in the back of your mansion now in Denenchofu, phone pressed to your ear, talking to one of your drivers - sipping your favorite vanilla bourbon tea - your heart pulsing with mischief.

"I need you to do something for me. Go mess with the car's AC, as in, break the damn thing if you can."

The driver hesitates. It's the middle of winter. "Miss, you - are you sure? That seems a bit-"

"Just do it," you plead. "Please, I promise I'll be safe. And I already sent your Christmas bonus to you!"

You hang up before he can say another word, a grin curling onto your lips. This must be the dumbest thing you've ever done, but it's too late to back out now, but what the hell? Nowadays, it's do or die.

That night, when you're sitting in your car, researching on this biker's meet in Shibuya, you coincidentally drive by, stopping in front of am awfully familiar Ninja H2, its chrome glinting under the streetlights. Its driver, seemingly having just arrived, whipping his head around when one of his buddies taps his shoulder, pointing in your direction.

You step out of your car, perfectly-rehearsed. You instantly pop the hood, pretending not to see him. "Oh no, not again," you smirk inwardly.

Sukuna bites back a laugh at how ridiculously obvious this entire farce is, but he decides to play along anyway. "Already broke down again? You should just drive that shit into the bay!" he calls, voice laced with mockery and something else, something close to affection.

You glance over at him, carefully hiding your amusement. "Think you can help me? You were quite the hero last time."

Sukuna raises an eyebrow at you, biting his lip at how you subtly play with your hair, the dark baritone of his voice making your heart skip. "You're pushing it, pretty girl. You think I'm just gonna swoop in and fix everything again when I've got a meet?"

You give him a dry look. "Not playing the hero today? Here I thought you wanted something more than my name this time around."

His eyes narrow, a flicker of something darker passing through them at the insinuation. "You do realize that if your AC's busted, you're just gonna have to freeze your little ass off since I don't know how to fix that." He brazenly pulls off the extra helmet on his buddy's bike, paying no heed to how his backpack glares at you and Sukuna, tossing it over to you. "Where you headed anyway? I'll just drop you off."

You shrug and he shakes his head, chuckling darkly. "Can't remember, huh? Then, let's just ride around for a bit until you do."

In the end, neither of you walk away unscathed. Your dainty Chanel tweed dress lays pooled on the floor of a random motel in Yokohama, right next to his leather jacket. In the end, you do remember where you're going after all, and that's straight into the inferno of Sukuna's embrace, even if you have to break your car a thousand times to get there.

#jjk x reader #sukuna x reader #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x y/n #jjk #sukuna #jujutsu kaisen

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theemissuniverse · 7 months ago

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“WATCH YOURSELF” - DEADPOOL X GRUMPY FEM!READER

Summary : Despite your love/hate relationship with Deadpool, you won’t tolerate anyone talking bad on him. No matter how annoying he is. (Your power is being lucky, super strength, and you’re great in combat. You have a slow healing ability too. Yes I know being Lucky is Dominos thing. Shush.)

Warnings : none? Besides well, he’s Deadpool

You were beyond annoyed when you were pulled into this disaster of an adventure with one of the most annoying people on the planet but after Wade had explained to you why he dragged you in, your animosity started to die down.

While Wade, who you always referred to as “Deadpool”, liked you, admired you, and even flirted with you, you always made it clear that he irritated you. That all his quips, lines, and forth wall breaking were all getting at your wits end.

Throughout time, he had actually started to grow on you a little and you were even starting to tolerate him. He wasn’t bad. At least not as bad as you thought he was.

You weren’t the only person he dragged, he dragged Wolverine into the party and now it was up to you three to save yours and Wade’s timeline.

What Logan didn’t know was that he wasn’t getting anything out of this. At least you weren’t exactly sure but Wade told you to keep in under wraps and well, you did.

It’s just Wade didn’t seem to remember it.

The three of you were in the car with Logan driving and Wade in the passenger seat. You were in the backseat.

Wade groaned in agony as Logan’s claws dug into his thigh. “I didn’t lie! I made an educated wish!”

The statement made you look at Wade like he was an idiot and you shook your head at how ridiculous he could be.

Logan looked at him the same but only more heated. “Did you say you made an educated…fucking…wish?”

The tension wasn’t dying at all and you rubbed your temple in annoyance as Wade just kept on talking. So much so that it pissed Logan off. “You know what you’re a fucking joke.” He said to him, putting his fist down from the air. “No wonder the avengers didn’t take you or the X-Men, or hell fucking anyone.”

You knew Logan was harsh and you knew a lot of things didn’t get to Wade but you know that was going to. Logan wasn’t done though. He kept going. “I mean you are ridiculous, immature, half witt moron. I have never met a sadder, more attention starved, jabbering little prick in my entire life and that says a lot because I’ve been alive for more than two hundred fucking years, and I’ll tell you that bald chick was right about one thing.”

“You will never save the world. You couldn’t even save a relationship with a goddamn stripper! And motherfucker I wish you could say you die alone but it’s one of god’s best jokes that you can’t die, except it’s on all of us!”

Your eyes widen at everything Logan said. You turned to see Wade’s reaction, expecting a snippy comment but none comes out. He’s silent.

You can’t really see his facial expressions because of the mask but with his head down, you could tell that he was upset. By everything Wolverine said.

You’ve known Wade for the longest and even though he could be too much Deadpool, he was still Wade. The same Wade that adored you, the same Wade that had your back. And the same Wade that would never let anyone talk to you like that.

Looking at Logan, you gave him a harsh glare. “I’m going to fight you now.”

Logan laughed while snorting as if he couldn’t believe you would fight him over him insulting Wade. Especially because around him you acted like you couldn’t stand him. He looked in the back seat where you sat at. “Oh are you?”

You immediately punched him in the face which made his nose bleed. You took the seatbelt that was connected to his seat and stabbed him right in the shoulder with the buckle. He groaned in pain. You proceeded to throw him out of the car.

Wade looked at you in shock. You stepped out of the car and walked over to Logan who got up from the ground quickly.

“You don’t want to do this.” Logan said more so as a warning.

“You’re right, I don’t.” You copied Wade’s words from his interaction with Wolverine before and took out your gun that was in pocket. You proceeded to shoot him and the bullets went through his chest.

He held his chest while glaring at you. The bullets started to come out of him and he instinctively charged at you.

With your luck, you moved out of the way and kicked him down. You went to punch him in the face but he pulled you down.

Wolverine took out his claws and tried to get you in the gut but you rolled away from the impact. On the ground, you wrapped both your legs around his neck and flipped him over so he was laying on his back.

You took out your other gun and shot into his stomach where his intestines were and he screamed. You could tell he was getting frustrated that he could barely land a hit because of your luck.

Wade couldn’t believe you were actually fighting Wolverine. His first thought was, why? Did you do it for him? Or because you were genuinely just sick of him? Wade looks at the reader. “I think I should stop this…but she’s so hot when she gets like that.”

Logan finally kicked you off. Your luck was starting to run out. He picked you up by your neck, choking you with his left hand and his claw had went into your stomach. You screamed in agony.

Wade looked back at the fight and now was going to kick his ass. “Alright, here we go.” He steps out of the car. Then reaches for his small knife in his boot. He casually walks over to Logan. “Baby knife.” He says in a small whisper before stabbing it in Logan’s abdomen.

It hurts him but doesn’t seem to make him let you go. Wade punches him in the face which finally makes Logan release you. He gets knocked to the ground.

Wade knows you can handle yourself but it doesn’t make him worry any less. Unlike him, your healing abilities were slow and just because you were lucky didn’t mean you couldn’t die. “You okay, Buffy?”

You shot him a look, rubbing your neck to release the tension you felt from your neck. “Buffy slayed vampires.”

“Tomato, apple.” Deadpool says as if the information you provided really mattered.

You saw Logan get up and it made you stand to your feet. Wade shook his head. “Nah. How bout you take five? I can’t let you have all the fun.”

Immediately, Logan charged into Wade and they flew into the car. You shook your head at the two fighting, deciding to call it quits. Then walked away so you could get some fresh air and your wounds could heal properly.

Something was bugging you. Why did you do that for Wade? He was extremely annoying but yet, it bothered you when you saw him upset. Maybe it was because that was the first time you saw him genuinely upset.

You sat on the big rock, looking at the waterfall. It was nearly night. You just needed to clear your mind without all the men blocking your inner thoughts.

You wouldn’t get much peace though as you heard Wade walking up towards you. You knew it was him because you recognized his footsteps. You still looked at him to confirm.

When you did, you saw his suit all bloodied and even a little tear in the suit itself. But other than that, he looked fine. He was a professional mercenary after all. He could handle himself.

Wade sits on the rock next to you. “I take it back. The Honda Odyssey fucks hard.” He exasperated while rolling his neck slightly.

You didn’t comment. He turned to look at you and noticed the bruise on your neck hadn’t healed yet. “Jesus your powers are shit.” His gloved hand came up to examine your neck more. You allowed him.

Again, with the mask on, you couldn’t really make out the best of facial expressions but you could tell he was worried. “Who knew your luck would run out with Wolvy?”

You chuckled a little at his comment before looking back at the waterfall. “I know right? Didn’t think he’d actually beat me.”

“Nah. He didn’t beat you.” He raised his hand down. Then looked at your shirt that was bloodied.

You looked to where his eyes were looking. Then shook your head. You lifted your shirt up to reveal that the gash that Logan gave you was almost healed. “I’m fine.” You let go of the shirt. “Not everyone’s got super healing powers like you.”

Deadpool nodded at this. “Yeah. I am pretty great.”

You rolled your eyes slightly. The two of you sat in silence for a minute which was strange considering who you were sitting next to. You wondered if he was still hurt about what Logan said.

Far from that. Wade, for the first time, was in deep thought and wasn’t monologuing it. You defended him and usually, he wouldn’t question stuff like that but it wasn’t in your nature to do that, for anyone. You didn’t care for things like that and just did what you called, “minding one’s business.”

You could tell that he was itching to say something and you were questioning why he was taking so long to say it. “Out with it. I can’t take your silence anymore.”

He knew you liked when he rambled even though you didn’t like to admit it. “I’m just wondering, cupcake.”

“Wondering what?”

“Why you decided to fight him? I’m still not getting that.”

The question he asked made you pause. You still didn’t even know why you did it. How were you supposed to answer that?

The deep part of your subconscious knew though. You liked him. You just didn’t want to admit it. “I don’t know.” You said. “He’s annoying.”

“Yeah. Well, I could take that if maybe he did something annoying but-“

“I’m starting to regret letting you talk.”

Wade ignored you and continued. “He was talking to me. Insulting me. And that’s when you fought him.” He spoke out loud putting the puzzle pieces together. And that’s when he gasped.

You looked back at him when he gasped. “What?”

He hit your shoulder playfully. “You like me.”

The way he said it was like he was a third grader on the playground. It annoyed you. Especially because that’s not why. Or at least, that’s what you thought. “What? Are you kidding me? Me? Like you? Are you sure Logan didn’t hit you too hard in the head back there?”

Wade ignored your denial and kept going. “Denial. One of the first huge steps to getting towards acceptance.”

With that, you stood up from the rock and towered over Wade. “Wade, if you don’t shut up, I’m going to kick your ass.”

Wade stood up with you and because he was taller than you, he towered over you. “Go ahead. But you know I’m only gonna get turned on by it right?”

You crossed your arms, glaring at the man child. “Okay? So I fought him because he was talking shit? So what?”

“Not to be on his side but…I did lie.”

“You didn’t lie.” You told him. “You made an educated wish.”

You regretted saying that because the moment you did, you could tell Wade was smiling under his mask. “Oh come on and just kiss me already.” He went to grab at your hips to pull you into one but you pushed him away.

“Ugh. I can’t stand you.” You went to walk away but Deadpool followed right behind you. He took his left hand and interlocked his fingers with your left.

“So where are we going on our first date? I would do all the heavy lifting but you’re kinda a control freak though so…”

You groaned in frustration but allowed Wade to hold your hand.

I guess you were dating him now?

#deadpool #deadpool x reader #wade wilson #wade wilson x reader #deadpool and wolverine

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sturnioloszn · 4 months ago

Text

ICE BOUND (1) - M.S

summary; you accompany your father to his coaching session when your eyes land on his star player and captain, matt sturniolo.

warnings; smut, oral (blowjob), throat-fucking, praising, begging, dirty talk, pet names (just pretty girl lmao), think that's it?

a/n; it was a veryy close poll, but ice hockey matt won by the slightest. also, my next post will be about a taglist, and if you want to be part of it, more info will be there!

P2, P3

It was mid-december, and thick snow covered the ground. The icy winds still managed to bring me goosebumps even when I was wrapped in a large jacket, gloves, a beanie, and a scarf. The snow beneath my worn down shoes crunched with each step I took, and small snow flakes landed on the exposed areas of my face.

"Thanks for coming, y/n," my dad speaks from next to me, breaking me out of my thoughts. We were currently walking through the parking lot to reach the entrance of the local ice rink. I offered to watch one of my dad's practice sessions. Every Tuesday, Thursday, and Sunday, he was down to this rink training his team of players, readying them for the tournament that was quickly arriving.

"Of course," I say, flashing a small smile. We finally enter the building, a surge of hot air hitting us. I instantly start taking my layers off, discarding them in one of the lockers. I was now much more comfortable in my baggy jumper and jeans.

I made my way to the rink, claiming my spot on one of the back row benches. Not many people came to the practice sessions, usually a parent or some friends, but that was it.

After a few moments, I saw a group of boys alongside my dad walk out of the locker room and onto the ice. My dad forced them to do three laps around the rink to warm up and then the practice actually began.

I watched them intensely, swinging their sticks and making the puck fly from one end of the rink to the other. I knew the basic rules due to the fact that my dad was literally an ice hockey coach, and I grew up around the sport.

After half an hour or so of this, I noticed one of the guys had a 'C' on his jumper. C? Captain? I never knew my dad allocated a captain already. Usually, he likes to mention random stuff like that, but I don't remember him ever talking about this.

Brown strands of hair peaked out through his helmet, and he proudly wore the number 4 and the surname 'Sturniolo' on his back. I don't even recall seeing him on the team at all. I guess the last game I came to see was about a year ago. Still though, kid managed to place captain in less than a year. He must be an ice hockey prodigy or some shit.

My focus remains on him the rest of the time. He glided smoothly on the ice, and his passes were clean. It was clear to see why he was captain. He must have felt me burning holes into the back of his head, and his eyes met mine. I instantly move to look at my shoes. Shit. That's embarrassing.

After almost two hours of practice, they begin to wrap up, and they all head towards the locker room. The last off the ice was the one and only prodigy himself. I walk down the benches as he skates off the ice and takes off his helmet, giving me a clearer view of his face. I go sit next to him on the bench as he's undoing his skates.

"That was a good game," I initiated the conversation, looking down at his red hands fiddling with the laces.

"Thanks, you watch often?" He asks, turning his head to look at me.

"Um, not really, but I know a thing or two," I say, giving a sly smile. He chuckles before looking back to his skates.

"Yeah? Who y'here for?" He asks again, probably referring to one of his teammates. He must think I'm either one of their girlfriends or one of their sisters. Well, I'm neither.

"Your coach," I reply. My answer makes his head snap to look at me; there's a look of shock played on his face. "I'm his daughter," I clarify, smiling once again.

"Oh. I was worried for a second," he breathes out. I tilt my head to look at him.

"Why would you be worried?" I question. He finally pulls his skates off his feet and replaces them with a beat-up pair of air force 1s. Sitting so close to him gives me the opportunity to really look at his face. He has a strong jawline, with defined cheekbones and a beautiful side profile. His hair was a similar shade to mine, and it was parted down the middle. But his most shocking feature was his icy blue eyes; from far away, they looked brown, but up close, they were a beautiful light, frost blue.

"Because a pretty girl like you can do much better than a man like him," he admits, turning to place his attention fully on me. I feel the blood rush to my cheeks, and I'm sure it doesn't go unnoticed by him.

"That's still my dad, watch your mouth," I say, swallowing down my butterflies. He raises his eyebrows and puts his hand up surrendering.

"You know I meant age, you can do better, age wise," he explains.

"Alright then, how old are you?" I ask boldly.

I can tell my question caught him off guard, but nevertheless, he answers, "I'm 19, you?". I tell him I'm the same age, and he just nods. I don't like his silence. It felt wrong. Hearing his voice felt... right? I quickly think of something else to ask to keep the conversation going.

"So... you haven't been here long, have you?". I'm pulling at straws, but it doesn't matter. He explains that he recently moved to Boston with his family and that he needed to find a new team to join so that he could keep up ice skating, so here he was.

I then asked him about being captain and how the hell he managed to claim that title so quickly. He said something about leadership and blah blah blah. To be completely honest, I wasn't listening; I was too busy drowning in his eyes to hear anything that was coming out of his pretty lips. His lips. They were the perfect shade of pink, and they looked so soft and plump. Fuck. He looked so kissable.

I took another look at his face, a dusty pink had settled onto his cheeks, and the beads of sweat that were previously on his forehead had dried down. Every now and again, he'd also rake his hand into his scruffy hair, trying to adjust it, and every time he did do that, I'd nearly melt. He looks edible.

"Are y'even listening?" He asks, narrowing his eyes. I'm slapped back into reality when I realised that I was, in fact, not listening.

"Um..totally...?" I reply. I didn't even convince myself, let alone him.

"What're you thinkin' about?" He asks. He doesn't even care that I wasn't listening. He cares more about what was occupying my mind instead of being pissed about what was coming out of his mouth.

That's a rare trait that many hockey players do not have. Self-awareness. That the world doesn't spin around them. But little did he know that it did spin around him because even though I wasn't paying attention to him speaking, I was only focused on him.

"..nothing," I answer, moving my eyes to the floor, unable to keep eye contact with him.

"Right... well, it was fun talking, but I gotta shower," he says, standing from the bench and looking down at me. No. I didn't want him to leave, but at the same time, the thought of hot water streaming down his soapy body was doing things to me. I feel my underwear dampen at the thought, I push my legs together, and his eyes skip down to my thighs.

He smirks before speaking again, "you know where to find me if you need," and with that, he made his way to the showers.

I went to find my dad, who was wrapping himself back up in his coat, to fight the weather. I tell him that I might actually go for a skate and that I'll make my way home soon. But in reality, I was going to go hunt down his best player.

I waved my dad goodbye and checked around the rest of the building for the rest of the team, but it seemed that they had already left. This is perfect.

I pushed the door to the showers open, and there's a running one. I slowly approach it until I'm standing behind the curtain. Holy shit. The only thing between me and his naked body was a sheet of fabric. What would happen if-

"Were you planning to just stand there quietly, or were you going to say something?" He speaks. My face instantly blushes, how the fuck did he know I'm standing here?

The water abruptly stops, and a few seconds later, the curtain is drawn back. To my disappointment, there was a white, fluffy towel wrapped around his waist. However, a pretty noticeable outline was pressed into the towel.

He spots me quite obviously staring at his groin. "Something you want?" He asks, grabbing another smaller towel and rubbing it onto his hair, drying it slightly.

At this point, my pussy is throbbing. Every word that comes out of his mouth adds another layer of wetness to my panties.

I nodded at his question before lowering myself to my knees. Now, this he didn't anticipate. I cringe at the feeling of the wet patches on my jean-covered knees.

A smirk grows on his lips, "you wouldn't be able to handle it,". Pfft, I'm yet to meet a man whose dick is bigger than their ego.

"Try me," I challenge. He gives me the nod of approval, and I tug the towel off his hips, letting it fall to the ground.

Well. I guess I've met the man whose dick is bigger than his ego now. Let's just say he has a very, very big ego.

I'm taken by surprise when his cock slings free and hits his stomach. I look up at him, and there's hints of desperation plotted on his face.

"How bad do you want me to suck it?" I speak sultry, placing my hands on his thighs, not giving him the relief he craves.

"So fucking bad," he admits, allowing his right hand to move to the back of my head, inching my face towards his tip. I then grab the base of his dick, pumping it painfully slow, watching beads of pre-cum build on his tip.

I stick my tongue out ever so slightly and go to lick up the salty beads that have accumulated. While I'm there, I place a few soft kisses on his swollen tip. By now, his head is thrown back, and his hand is tangled in my hair.

"Shit," he breathed out. I looked back up at him, and his eyes were shut and eyebrows furrowed. He looked so beautiful. I bring my mouth closer and barely take him in my mouth, sucking lightly.

I then ease more and more of himself into my mouth until my nose is almost pressed up against his pubic bone. I low groan escapes his lip. I then pull him out completely, and he shudders at the loss of contact.

"Please, just make me feel good," he pleads. God, could this man get any sexier?? I instantly comply and take him into my mouth, hollowing out my cheeks. I move my head back and forth, engulfing his cock. He fills my mouth perfectly.

I then bring the hand that's not resting on his thigh to his balls. I slightly toy and massage them, and the sound that left his lips was heavenly. I take him out of my mouth again and move lower to suck on his balls. He's lost all sense of composure at this stage.

"I n-need to cum... please, please, please," he moans while I move back to his cock. This time, I wrap my lips around him and take a hand to stroke him simultaneously. He bucks his hips forward, forcing me to take most of his length down my throat. It's not long until I feel his legs becoming weak and his moans grow in volume.

He places both his hands on either side of my head, "keep still and let me fuck your perfect throat," he grunts out, and I let him do just that. His tip hit the back of my throat over and over, making me gag on his cock, but this just encouraged him to keep going.

"F-fuck, you're doi-fuckkkk, doing so so g-good for me," he stutters. I can tell he's on the edge of euphoria and I moan around his cock to help him reach satisfaction. I feel his warm, bitter cum shoot down my throat. His hips are slowing down, and he lets go of the side of my head. I swallow his cum completely, sticking my tongue out to show him.

"You're amazing," he huffs out, helping me up from my knees.

"I know, I am pretty great," I grin. I then look down and notice the uncomfortable wet patches on my knees. He notices my discomfort and offers his spare pair of sweatpants, and I don't decline.

Once we're both dry and changed, he offers me a ride home, acknowledging the fact that everyone had already left a very long time ago. The ride home is enjoyable and not awkward at all, which was unexpected. I then realise that we did all of that but I don't even know his name, and I never told him mine.

"What's your name?" I ask, turning to look at him. He was focused on the road.

"Matt. What's your name, pretty girl?" He asks. I blush at the nickname, before responding.

"Y/n, but I prefer pretty girl," I smile. He turns his head to look at me with the same smile played on his lips.

a/n; next post is gonna be regarding a taglist, so make sure to keep updated if you want to be added to that. anywayy, thank you for reading this oneshot, love you all 💙

#★°.*sturnioloszn*.°★#sturniolo triplets #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #matthew bernard sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matt stuniolo fanfic #sturniolo fandom #sturniolo smut

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sweetiecutie · 1 year ago

Note

AHHHH I NEED MORE KEEGAN IN MY LIFE PLEASE could you write some Keegan h/c?

Pairing: Keegan P Russ x fem! Reader

Warnings: just general stuff, language, bad driving, NSFW under the cut, mdni, spit kink

A/n: it’s not a lot, but it’s better than nothing😌 Keegan is such a bad bitch, he deserves more attention

• Starting off - I’m pretty sure that Keegan would want a civil partner; someone not related to military and actually as far as possible from all the war stuff. First of all, it’s to avoid having constant fear of losing you on the battlefield - it’s a highly dangerous job, sometimes coming out alive is not only a matter of skills, but also pure luck. Secondly, the amount of trauma and emotional damage Keegan carries is more than enough for two people - he needs someone grounded and, well, more stable, someone who will be able to give him a piece of blissful domestic life, faraway from all the constant war Keegan lives in.

• Always referring to you as his girl in conversations with other people or when introducing you to someone new. “That’s Y/n - my girl” “That’s for my girl, she likes pink” “My girl doesn’t like the smell of smoke so I’m trying to quit”. It’s also a way of showing everyone that you’re his - letting others know from the very beginning that you’re taken and no one better try anything with his precious girl, otherwise a few bones will be broken.

• Gives off annoying older brother vibes. He’ll always playfully nag you, and it’ll only become worse once you start dating. Placing stuff on the highest shelves just to watch you struggle to get it yourself, drawing some silly doodles on your notes, messing with your makeup that you spent nearly an hour organising neatly, punching your favourite plushie just to get a rise out of you. And of course, constant bickering! “Keegan, can you pass me that book?” - “Fuck no” *passes the book*. “Keegan, I want some sushi” - “Well shit, what am I supposed to do about that?” *already placing an order online on his phone*

• Another amazing driver here. Keegan has horrible road rage, hitting the car horn aggressively, yelling most intricate insults out the window at whoever that happened to piss him off. I also have a feeling the he drives really fast and reckless, teasing you whenever you ask him to go slower - so you better always buckle up. And yes, he definitely got in a few minor accidents - scratching or leaving indents on other car’s bumper.

NSFW here~*•.

• And while we’re speaking of driving - just imagine giving him a sloppy noisy head while being stuck in a long traffic. Keegan is seething with hot anger, rolling his eyes on other drivers, lack of nicotine adding to his distress. And here’s a sweet lovely you trying your best to make Keegan feel at least a tad bit better, soothing his booming annoyance with your silky tongue swirling around throbbing shaft, cheeks hollowing to provide stronger suction, allowing Keegan to set the pace. And it seemed to work wonders on him - his nape against the headrest of driver’s seat, pretty blue eyes half lidded, staring at the car ceiling, adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard, feeling your throat wrapped around his cock.

• Oh, how nasty he is. Biggest spit kink ever - ordering to open your mouth nice and wide just to spit a thick globe of saliva in it, then closing your jaw and making sure that you swallow it. Will gladly let you spit in his mouth as well; loooves messy wet kisses - either during make out session or after you gave him head, slurping up your spit mixed with his cum from your lips and chin. Very often uses his spit as lube, or telling you to spit in his palm before spreading it all over his needy leaking cock, plunging it deep inside your warmth.

• A horndog. You never have to ask him if he’s in a right mood because yes, he is. He is always in the mood to fuck. Now, he always lets you know that it’s totally fine if you say no - Keegan will never pressure or guilt trap you into any kind of intimacy, no means no. You can always cuddle up together or do something fun like cooking, dancing or simply dorking around. But if your sexdrive happens to match his - oh boy, I’m sorry for your neighbours. Let’s just say - there’s hardly any surface in your flat that you didn’t fuck on.

• It’s nothing new, but this mug is cocky. Like, I don’t think he has unimaginably big dick - not small for sure, but not huge as well; but the way he works with it - a chef’s kiss. Keegan just knows how to angle his hips to massage that one spot within you, how you like your clit to be played with, how he quickly discovers and memorises all the sweetest spots of your body. “Aw, cumming already? I barely touched you, does it feel this good?” - he’d purr, curling three of his long fingers inside of your needy cunny, thumb flicking swollen clit while hot mouth sucks on perked up nipples.

• Daddy kink? Daddy kink😏

Likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! Feedback is very important, give writers some love<3

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moonxknightx · 6 months ago

Text

♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ : FINDING SOLACE : :;

╰┈➤ ❝ [PAIRING] ❞ Worst!Logan Howlett x F!Reader

・❥・GENRE: Angst and fluff

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆FANDOM: X-Men

ੈ✩‧₊˚ WARNINGS: Mentions of alcohol use, themes of grief and guilt, references to losses and past violence. (Takes place after Deadpool and Wolverine)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥SUMMARY: You find Logan drinking alone in Wade’s apartment, burdened by guilt over his past. Offering comfort, you help him find a moment of peace, reminding him he’s not alone in his pain.

THE SUN HAD ALREADY GONE DOWN WHEN YOU FINISHED WORK, exhaustion settling in your bones. The walk home was a familiar one, the chilly evening air biting gently at your cheeks as you approached your apartment building. As you neared the door, you noticed the light on in Wade’s place.

Curious, you decided to check in on him. Wade was known for his unpredictability, and it wasn’t unusual for him to be up to something insane. You and Wade had become good friends over the years—neighbors turned best pals through shared movie nights, endless banter, and the occasional assistance with whatever madcap adventure Wade was embroiled in. Sometimes, you were the one thing that kept him grounded.

You entered his apartment without knocking—a habit both of you had grown accustomed to. But the sight that greeted you was far from the chaos you usually associated with Wade’s place.

Sitting alone on the couch, a half-empty bottle of whiskey in hand, was a man you had only seen a few times before—Logan Howlett. His rugged features were etched with an expression that was a mix of sorrow, guilt, and something far darker. He didn’t even flinch as you walked in, seemingly lost in the depths of his own torment.

“Logan?” you called softly, closing the door behind you.

His eyes, usually so sharp and dangerous, were now clouded, staring blankly at the floor. He looked up at the sound of your voice, a flicker of recognition passing through his gaze.

“Wade’s not here,” he muttered, his voice hoarse, drained of the usual gruff confidence. “Gone off on some wild goose chase. Dunno when he’ll be back.”

You nodded, taking in the scene—the empty bottles scattered around, the stillness in the air, and the heavy weight of something unspoken hanging between you two.

“Mind if I sit?” you asked gently, gesturing to the space beside him on the couch.

Logan shrugged, a noncommittal gesture, and you took that as permission. You settled down beside him, the scent of whiskey and something distinctly wild filling your senses. For a few moments, neither of you spoke, the silence comfortable yet charged with a tension you couldn’t quite place.

“Rough day?” you finally asked, keeping your tone light but laced with concern.

Logan let out a humorless chuckle, the sound brittle and broken. “You could say that.”

You didn’t press him, knowing instinctively that Logan wasn’t the type to spill his heart easily. Instead, you waited, offering your presence as a silent comfort, letting him take the lead if he wanted to.

Minutes passed before he finally spoke again, his voice low, almost a whisper. “I wasn’t there when they needed me. My team… the people I cared about. I wasn’t there. And because of that… they’re all gone.”

Your heart clenched at the pain in his voice, the raw vulnerability that he was so clearly unused to showing. Without thinking, you reached out, placing a hand gently on his arm. The touch seemed to ground him, his gaze shifting to meet yours, and you saw the depths of his anguish reflected in those dark, weary eyes.

“You couldn’t have known,” you said softly, your thumb brushing gently over the fabric of his jacket. “You can’t blame yourself for something you had no control over.”

Logan shook his head, his jaw clenched tight. “But I should have been there. I could have stopped it. Instead… I went on a rampage. Killed so many people because I couldn’t deal with what I’d done—or hadn’t done.”

His admission hung in the air, heavy and full of regret. The man beside you, who had always seemed indestructible, now looked utterly broken. You had heard stories about Logan’s past, about the violence and the bloodshed, but seeing him like this—vulnerable, hurting—was something else entirely.

“Logan,” you murmured, your voice soft and full of compassion. “You’ve been carrying this guilt around with you for too long. But you don’t have to do it alone. You’ve got people who care about you, who want to help you. You don’t have to keep punishing yourself.”

His eyes searched yours, as if trying to find something to hold onto, something to pull him out of the darkness he was drowning in. And maybe, just maybe, he found it in the sincerity of your gaze, in the warmth of your touch.

Without a word, Logan leaned into you, his head resting against your shoulder. You felt the tension slowly drain from his body as you wrapped an arm around him, pulling him closer. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. Enough for him to know that he wasn’t alone, that someone cared.

The two of you sat there in silence, the only sound the soft hum of the city outside and the occasional clink of the whiskey bottle as Logan absentmindedly set it on the table. The weight of his past still hung between you, but it was a little lighter now, shared between two souls instead of one.

“Thank you,” Logan whispered after a long while, his voice thick with emotion. “For… being here.”

You smiled gently, resting your head against his. “Anytime, Logan. Anytime.”

And in that moment, as the night stretched on and the world outside continued to spin, Logan allowed himself to let go of just a little of his burden, finding solace in the quiet presence of someone who cared.

🏷️: @twinky-wink @fidgetingbee @astarions-girl-dinner @layladestiny8 @birdy-bat-writes @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @shybluebirdninja @boomveronika @wolviesgirl @slowlikehoneyyy @lanabobana

If you want to be added to the taglist, let me know!

#logan howlett x reader #logan howlett fluff #wolverine x reader #deadpool and wolverine #hugh jackman #wolverine fluff

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batbirdies · 2 months ago

Note

What are your top fanfic recs for 2024?

aha!! I am late answering this as usual but I went through all of my bookmarks made in 2024 to pick out my favs and I saved the links in an email draft and then when I went to make this post it was poofed gone so then I abandoned the idea but am back, recollecting links here and half rereading them as I go lol.

So these are some of my particular fav fics read and bookmarked in 2024, not necessarily that were published in 2024. (Though I think most of them were)

Also I don’t know if most of these authors have Tumblrs or what their handles are if they do, so if you recognize one and know it please tag them! Or let me know and I’ll edit in the tag.

So:

Ground Control to Jason Todd by TheThoughtsThief [22,520 words]

Jason died at fifteen years old. He recalled a light, searing and white against the expance of a black sky and the nothingness of space. He recalled a star, speaking to him with a morose calm. Then, finally, he remembered the universe giving him a second chance at life. A few years down the line, he goes chasing after myths to figure out why.

Or, a Dick and Jason space road trip au featuring Japanese death poems, Shakespearean tragedies, and Abba's greatest hits.

My first bookmark of 2024! This fic is super unique. I’m not usually big on AUs but road trips are my jam so I gave this one a shot and the ~vibes~ are impeccable. It’s soft and flowy and the recurring poetry and the relationship between Dick and Jason and the willowy liminal space experiences… so good.

Hope is the Thing with Feathers by TheSilencer [13,106 words]

"Oh." Nightwing said. "It's your first time."

"My what?" Jason said.

"It's like 'The Time Traveler's Wife.' Except I'm not your wife. Not that I'd be a bad wife, but not for you. That'd be gross - Wait, is that movie even out, yet?" Nightwing rambled, and Jason stood up on wobbly legs. "Shoot. I guess it doesn't matter. Not relevant -"

Or Jason Todd is a time traveler, and Dick Grayson is always his destination.

A story about brothers doing their best.

Basically what it says in the description. Jason randomly moves through time throughout his life, always landing where Dick Grayson is. sometimes Jason needs Dick, and sometimes Dick needs Jason, and neither of them ever really has the full picture of what’s going on. But they do their best for each other<3 they’re brothers your honor 😭😭

Still hurts underneath my scars by valkyriered [2,928 words]

“Stop.” The man in the purple suit says, and Jason freezes.

“Stay there.” He says. “Don’t move.”

Jason tries to lurch forward, has some half-prepared snark about being told what to do, and he finds that he can’t. He can’t even move his arms. His eyes dart around the empty warehouse. Fuck. “Who are you?” Jason demands. “What is this?”

The man doesn’t even look over at him. “Stop talking.”

I’ll warn, this fic says “no archive warnings apply” but there is heavy implication of previous sexual assault. No direct references but it’s definitely there.

The use of Killgrave in this is stellar, I still find him one of the most terrifying villains I’ve ever watched or read about in anything I’ve seen. The moment is small and doesn’t even seem that bad on the surface but the writing puts you in Jason’s head and you can feel how frightening it would be, and how scared Jason really, really is. Has made me think about using Killgrave in a fic sometimes cause it truly has some juicy potential.

There is comfort, and Selina is great in this, but it is from Jason’s POV and he is still pretty Not OkayTM when it ends, so just, you know, be careful with yourselves. It’s very well written and Jason is well taken care of by his loved ones in the end but it’s a hurty one.

Displacement by @imbecamiel [21,244 words]

“He’s dead,” Tim said, blankly.

“Look at me.” Jason ducked his head to catch Tim’s eyes. “Hey, look at me. You didn’t kill him. You just shot him. No big deal, right? You’ve injured lots of people. Just part of the job. Doesn’t matter it was with a gun this time. Doesn’t change anything. I’m the one who killed him. You’re fine.”

Loooove this fic. Tim accidentally fatally shoots someone in self defense. Jason is there, sees Tim panicking, and finishes the job himself so he can take the blame.

The relationships in this fic are so good, and the CHARACTERS are just SO GOOD. I started to say a lot more but then I just started summarizing the whole thing and spoiling it. Just know that Jason and Tim’s interactions in this are great, and Bruce and Jason have SUCH a good and satisfying end to their arch in this, which is so important to me and can be hard to find.

A Sad Song With Nothing To Say by WakingNightmares [14,805 words]

It starts with the Make A Wish foundation, and ends with a funeral.

Which, Bruce supposes, is unfortunately how things involving the Make A Wish foundation usually work. But what happens in-between catches him completely off-guard.

Ok, know first that this fic isn’t really my usual fair because it’s heavy on the hurt and light on the comfort. Be prepared if you decide to read this one.

A young gotham boy dying of cancer uses his Make A Wish Foundation wish to meet The Red Hood, more as a joke than anything, not expecting it to actually happen. The boy has no one else, he’s dying alone and in pain, and Jason can’t do anything about the pain but he can keep him from being alone. So he stays with the kid, whenever he can, and soon the other bats start helping, so he’s not by himself. But Jason grows attached, and Bruce knows, they all know that it is not going to end well. That the devastation this is going to wreak on Jason will be no small thing. But no one really has the heart to do anything but help.

Like I said this fic is damn well agonizing but it hit me in such a cathartic way. Because it’s devastating. The story is so painful, but everyone is helping. Everyone is there. There is so much love in this fic and as much comfort as can be offered even if it is not nearly enough. And when it ends—Bruce is there.

Open Line by @lurkinglurkerwholurks [2,140 words]

Dick pinched the phone between his ear and shoulder as he pulled the crate down from the top shelf. The line rang twice before connecting.

“Hey, you busy?” Dick stepped down from the stool and carried the crate to the table, popping the top and flipping it off to the side to reach inside.

“Everything okay?” Bruce asked. His voice sounded close, like he was in a small space.

Dick is dealing with some unexpected grief and Bruce is a good dad. That’s all you need sometimes, you know?

Eat Your Heart Out by Lishalalalala [35,527 words]

What people don’t expect of Bruce Wayne is his ability to love in such a detailed way. What people absolutely expect of Jason Todd is his ability to show up at the worst place, at the worst time, every damn time. But not all late-night calls from the hospital are bad, not all galas are bad, and not all of Bruce's culinary attempts are bad. Featuring food; Jason's self-esteem issues, his complicated relationship with food; and the different ways confidence can be filled. Also featuring one Bruce Wayne trying his best.

(Endeavoring to grow up shouldn’t have been this hard considering it’s the second round for him. )

A story of Bruce and Jason revolving around each other, pinging off in different directions when things don’t go well. Of love shown through food. Of Jason’s skittish and slow acceptance of that love.

Each chapter is its own scene, little time skips between, building on each other to craft a very soft picture. This fic makes me ache in such a way. It’s poetic, it manages to make sweet, nostalgic moments stab you in the heart. Very recently completed, and I still need to leave a comment on the final chapter, whoops.

Also gives a well thought out and reasonable explanation for Bruce’s poor cooking skills lol.

Thats all from 2024, but im gonna cheat and also add one from this month cause I read it yesterday and have been gushing about it since and there’s so little Steph and Bruce fic out in the world, it needs more love.

If they could only remember/which one is you and which one/the source of all fire by @luvo27 [9,086 words]

When she’s not with him on patrol, he knows she’s often patrolling on her own. When she’s not patrolling on her own, he knows she’s wandering around Gotham. She doesn’t spend a lot of time at home, not even after her father died. She seems, Bruce thinks, like she’s lonely. He clears his throat. Stephanie looks up from her phone. Bruce can read the screen upside down, she’s still looking up solar eclipses. An idea starts to form in his mind. He starts to ask, “Do you…would you—the path of totality crosses over Vermont. Or the state of New York.” “Yeah,” Stephanie turns her phone to face him. “I was looking at the maps.” “That’s a little over seven hours away by car,” Bruce says.

Or: Stephanie and Bruce take a road trip to see the solar eclipse, featuring: Stephanie Brown and her Stephanie Brown-ness, Bruce Wayne and his Bruce-ness, and grief.

Bruce’s POV throughout. Stephanie is Robin, Jason is dead, and Bruce can see so much of Jason in Stephanie that he can barely look at her. But even in his grief he can’t stop caring, can’t stop wanting to help her. Can’t stop being terrified that she will meet the same end that Jason did.

Bruce is messy and he’s not doing amazing but he’s trying very hard. Stephanie is also messy and not doing amazing, but she is trying very hard. Has a soft ending but deals pretty heavily with grief, so be aware.

Hope you enjoy these!!

#So many of these are very sad sorry lmao #2024 was an emotional time i guess #Fanfiction #fic recs #batbirdies answers #Selkienight60 #Batfam

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plumpybread · 3 months ago

Note

Asking because of the previous ask, are you not a fan of Ethan anymore? If so, why?

It's complicated, I suppose (rant where i talk abt ethan but then also my OCs in general)

I really do not like the first version of Ethan I made like 3 years ago. Obviously I like indulging in devilish ideas but I don't know, it ended up turning into something I didn't really end up liking too much.

Then I revisited and sort of rewrote his story a bit a while back when making the OC archive site (I'm aware the site is not available anymore for the people who asked, I took it down myself) and was much happier with it for a while.

Don't get me wrong, I like Ethan, I know he's the OC people seem to like the most, but it's still like a personal mental battle of like maybe it's too effed up? Even when I draw characters going through unwilling/accidental extreme weight gain, I make them either ambivalent or accepting of their situation, but for Ethan it's kind of like torture, and I can't bring myself to get like..aroused and excited to draw more of that *personally*.

Changing up his lore wouldn't really work either since his story is based on helplessness and stuff, and it'd be disingenuous to make him be happy with his situation, so I've just sort of subconsciously decided to leave him as is and treat his content as its self contained story more than nsfw art to goon to, if that makes sense. I don't know, maybe I'm just thinking about it too much, but just wanted to say what goes through my head.

I also don't really revisit Ethan for the same reason I don't tend to draw much of all the past OCs I've made, as I see each of them as a way to explore different facets of how weight gain can manifest and adapt into a character's life to create a story around it, and I feel like I've covered most of the ground around them already.

All of my OCs come from a sudden short prompt that pops up in my head, usually out of nowhere. I suddenly wanted to make a big-hearted southern farm guy who was super massive and I immediately ran to draw Rudy, for example.

I draw them a little reference, with my typical bullet points next to them with basic info to get an idea of what their dynamic is like, and a more lengthily written backstory or description if I'm feeling fancy under it, and then for the next week or two it's all art of them and answering questions about them... and then another idea pops up, and a new OC comes in.

It's not that I get tired of them, but I just simply do not know what to draw with them. Ethan is the biggest outlier in this case, since he is my fattest OC and half immobile, you just don't really know how else to bring something new that's not him laying on his bed at a slightly different angle.

I guess that's why I always do OC asks, I sort of need them to be able to know what to draw with them, since I struggle coming with things like that by myself, and you know I always like avoiding drawing a character in a void with no context.

The Genshin Obesity AU is my longest running like "project"?? thing just because there is an endless amount of content I can pull from since there's all these characters, places and possibilities I can write from. My OCs are obviously much more self-contained and moreso serve as individual experiments to explore different people and scenarios, so after the 10th drawing of them... I genuinely do not know what else I can add to them.

I hope that was a bit insightful. I know most of you guys love Ethan, and I love him too! But I don't know, I guess this is why I don't tend to have immobile/near immobile OCs, since the potential art ideas for them drop to just them sitting on a mattress or sitting on the floor and I'm just left confused on what to do with them.

Maybe Ethan in his college days is something you guys might be interested in? Or I don't know, I'm just writing this post as my thoughts enter my head.

Sorry for the rant, I sure do love typing, hope this clears up some questions people might've had

#ask

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frownyalfred · 6 months ago

Note

Not including Thomas and/or Martha Wayne, do you think there's any other ghosts that haunt the Wayne grounds or Wayne Mansion itself?

Even if no one died on the grounds themselves before, with the Batfam's lifestyle they must have made the place a magnet for the odd and otherworldly that some spirit could have made it it's home.

Actually this ask reminded me of a half-formed fic idea I had a while back! I think it was going to be for ASOH but could really be its own oneshot.

It centered around BVS Batman coming back from training with Ra's and the League, and not being satisfied with how their methods/training applied to hunting down people in Gotham. It was too silent, too quick, not effective for the kind of targets he needed to intimidate as a fledgling Batman. They needed to, as TDK Bruce put it, share his dread.

But one night, when he's wandering through the abandoned Manor grounds, trying to clear his head, he stumbles across one of the old ghosts on the property. The old Wayne hunters, like Bruce references in BVS -- the ones who started their empire. Fur hunters, game hunters, etc.

And one of his ancestors -- a ghost -- leads him through a night of hunting, teaching him the skills it takes to be the kind of Batman Gotham needs. A hunter whose quarry knows he is coming, but still cannot see him. A hunter who is upwind and downwind and everywhere all at once. Someone who dogs their steps and never relents, regardless of the terrain crossed or the hours spent. A hunter Ra's could never teach him to be.

IDK, it was kind of in the same vein as the magical realism of misty so I figured I'd space those out a bit for my poor readers. But yeah, I thought it would be really cool to do a one night, one lesson kind of mystical thing with Bruce and his Great great grandfather or something. One of those "Did I just dream that?" kind of nights. The grounds we see in BVS are just so cool and deserve more expansion in description and lore. You know?

#asks #fic ideas #the league of assassins #bruce wayne #batman #batman v superman #bvs #batman v superman: dawn of justice #theresurrectionist #myfic #dc

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xhopelesslyromanticx · 2 years ago

Text

Selfish - Lando Norris x Reader (ft.Oscar Piastri)

Masterlist

part 2

warnings: mentions of alcohol, s*xual references, contains cheating

summary: Lando can’t be with you. He had told you so countless times. But somehow seeing you with his very own teammate makes him regret his decisions. A twisted game starts, the only question is; who’s gonna end up winning?

„Who?“ Lando chocked on his food, almost spilling the drink in his hand as he sat at dinner table with his friends, letting the evening slowly ring out at his absolute favorite restaurant in Monte Carlo. It had been a long although fun day of all sorts of activities as you had all gone out on his yacht. Coming back you were all a bit sunburnt and tired, not wanting to cook you went out for dinner. Figuring you may head to a couple of bars later as you all enjoyed your time together as well as the first really warm days in Monaco.

„Mister Piastri.“ Max chuckled, wiggling his eyebrows in such a goofy way you swore you could feel the ick forming in your bones. So he quickly earned a punch from you straight into his upper arm as you chewed on your food silently. Your hair still slightly wet from having gotten ready in the matter of minutes at Landos place. Wearing almost no makeup as your freckles had started to come through.

„You‘re dating Oscar?“ Lando basically yelled as he put his drink down, causing a loud thud catching the attention of the tables next to you. You akwardly smiled at the elderly people who sent your friends a disapproving glare. It was always loud when the four of you were together. Max was your brother and that would basically end in bickering ninety percent of dinners. Ria wasn’t that quiet either. And Lando, well, he was Lando. The life of the party. His smile would be contagious and his laughter could lighten every situation. There wasn’t ever a dull moment around him.

„Shh!“ you shushed Lando as you kicked Maxs leg under the table. Ria next to you chuckled, scrolling through her phone. Max squealed in pain, allthough you knew he was being overly dramatic once again „Shut it Max!“

„What? It’s true?“ Lando now continued looking clearly disturbed. Unbelievable. You stared at the Brit before rolling your eyes in an unfaced manner. Lando shouldn’t care right? He had made it pretty clear he didn‘t. So you hoped he‘d not cause a scene now. Allthough you were pretty sure he wouldn’t in front of Max. That had been his ground rule right? Max couldn’t know.

„We‘re not dating.“ you responded never the less, staring at the young Mclaren driver who’s curly hair was sitting ever so perfectly today. Max couldn‘t help but let out a chuckle as you side eyed him. He could really be so goddamn annoying, he made your blood boil. But that‘s a normal thing for siblings to do.

„Oh, sorry. You guys are just hooking-“ Max continued, nibbling on his chicken wing.

„That’s even worse!“ Landos interrupted his friend, wiping his hands on a napkin. His appetite had just left him. His plate still half full. Hi voice was as high pitched as you ever thought it could get. Now your brother sent his friend a questioning look as Ria next to you crossed her arms, very aware of Landos never ending bullsh*t when it came to you.

„How’s that worse?“Max now asked, awkwardly chuckling. He knew Lando was your best friend as well. But of course he didnt get why he‘d be so upset about this. He thought he was just being protective. Ria now raised her brows looking at you, you looked defeated as Lando almost seemed disgusted. His face scrunched up as he stared you down.

„Yeah, why do you care?“ Ria now added fuel to the fire. It was sassy and Lando knew why. He knew Ria knew about everything. She was your best friend. She had already confronted him before but he mostly told her to mind her own business. This was between the two of you. It always would stay this way. Plus it ended months ago.

„I-I…“ Lando stuttered holding up his hands as if to prove he was innocent. He looked at you and then at Max „Look I dont care I just didn’t think Oscar was her type.“

You bit your tounge. Weak shot Norris. You knew Lando still thought you were not over him. Which you‘d never admit to, had some truth to it. But Oscar was nice. He was a decent guy, he treated you with respect and you two had fun. It was the perfect distraction, only Max had to ruin it again. Ruin it by making Lando aware of it. You knew how Lando could be when it camr to you dating other guys. You hadn‘t purposely gone for the teammate. I just happened. A glance at the paddock. A social media follow and just like that the Aussie slid into your dm‘s

„Why not?“ Ria now scrunched her nose, sounding honestly confused at Landos absolute nonsense. Who was he to say, who your type was?

„Well, he-„ Lando now started as he stared straight at Ria. He had no real answer on how he knew. He couldn’t say because he himself was your type. Not in front of Max. „He‘s younger than her. Which I didn’t know she was into-“

„Oh trust me.“ Ria now smirked as you buried your face in your hands not wanting to know what was coming next „Judging from the sounds coming from her room at night she is totally in-“

„Eww!“ Lando and Max now yelled out at the same time. You were bright red now but couldn’t help but giggle, your hand covering your mouth as you looked at Ria. She winked at you. God, you loved her sometimes. She could make anyone uncomfortable. Especially someone who was messing with you. Ria loved Lando as a friend, yet she hated how he had treated you. It wad equally possible. Luckily Max chenged the subject rather quickly after that. Not interested in hearing about his sisters s*x life.

You ignored Landos stares on you for the rest of the dinner and thanked god when it finally ended. The minutes seemingly not passing at all. Lando payed, inviting you all before the group left the restaurant. Stepping out onto the streets of Monaco at night. It was Friday, the weekend just starting so the place had been packed. You guys had to wait for Landos car to arrive, so Ria and Max used the chance to go to the restroom leaving just Lando and you to wait outside.

The Brit played with his yellow team quadrant cap as he watched you type on your phone. The sound of your nails tapping against the screen triggering him beyond measures. He normally wasn’t this petty. He knew he had no right to say anything. But he was annoyed you had to go for his teammate out of all guys. It seemed like you were doing it to get back at

„Who are you texting?“ he blurted out, immediately hearing how weird it sounded. So much on letting your impulsiveness win. But that smile on your face, he couldn’t help it. He had to know if it was him. He wanted to know everything. Had you kissed Oscar? Had you slept with him? It made Lando sick to think about it.

„You talking to me?“

„Who else?“ Lando sassed back. God he hated your attitude. He loved and hated it at the same time.

„None of your business.“ you stated, sending him a fake smile before continuing to text whoever was on your phone. Lando rolled his eyes pacing back and forth. It had to be Oscar. He awkwardly stood there for a while, figuring he better should not say anything else. But adding fuel to the fire was his thing.

„You know it’s not my business if you‘re hoeing around. But it is when you choose to f*ck my teammate.“

„Excuse me-“ you looked up. You couldn’t believe Lando’s choice of words. Once again. You open your mouth wanting to say something but to Lando‘s luck Max came out running before hejumped onto his back the next second. Holding onto Lando like a monkey.

Your mouth still hubg open as you watched Lando put on a fake smile. He spent the next minutes fooling around with Max before his car arrived. Ria came back as the guys stepped into the car, tipping the guy who had brought it. She put her hand on your shoulder, immediately sensing something was up „You okay?“

„He‘s such a d*ck!“

You remember how Lando would always pick on you when you were kids. It lasted till you were teens. He had made it his duty to make fun of you with Max at any chance. But he also was always first in line to protect you. Even more then Max. Every boy Max hated, Lando hated more. Every night you went out he made sure to drop you off and pick you up. He was always there. That all changed. Changed over something so stupid. He had to go and do it. Make you feel special for a second. Making you wait all these years, hoping he‘d finally come around. Finally stand up and tell Max he was with you.

Lando had been your first everything. Your first kiss. Your first time. Your first heartbreak. Max didn’t know. He‘d never forgive him. Or so Lando always thought. Not after lying for so many years. Always telling Max he didn’t know.

He didn’t know where you spent the night; you were laying in his arms hours prior.

He didn’t know where that hickey came from; it had been him the night before.

He didn’t know why you were crying and locking yourself in your bedroom; he had told you he was dating someone else.

You almost couldnt believe the thing went on for so long. It was stupid of you to wait for Lando. You always waited. Lando didn’t know this; you hadn’t gotten with any other guy ever. You had pretended so. To make him jealous as he’d get with all these girls when he was traveling. Or so you assumed. It was a year ago you and Lando officaly ended it. Or he did.

He had always told you; it couldn’t be more than sex. His long hugs and midnight chats were what fooled you. The way he’d caress your hair, whisper into you ear when he thought you were sleeping. But you should have just believed him; It didnt mean anything to him. It never had.

„Ahhh! Your breaking my heart!“ you yelled over the loud music. Earning nothing but a chuckle from Ria as you threw your arm around Oscars neck. The Aussie ,who was holding your waist to ensure you wouldn’t fall or trip over, smirked as he shook his head at your clumsiness. He thought it was endearing though. You were a cute kind of drunk. Much more affectionate than when you weren’t though.

„C‘mon Y/n? I told you I dont dance!“ he defended himself. He had told you as you had called him two hours ago basically begging him to come to this night club. He had just gotten his first own place in Monte Carlo and didn’t really go out much yet. Especially not to dance. But after you had done the most to convince him on the phone the Aussie somehow agreed to come.

Only when he did, he found you hanging over the bar already totally wasted with Ria just laughing her ass off. But Oscar didn’t judge. He loved to see you have fun, so he refused the drinks himself so he‘d be able to get you home safely.

„You’re so-“you grabbed the young guys face, pinching his cheeks and pecking his lips as he just chuckled „You‘re cute.“

„Am I?“ you asked, eyes wide open.

„Piastri.“ Oscar looked away from you seeing his very own teammate and your brother approach him. His heart stopped for a second. He hadn’t told Lando he was seeing you. He had avoided it, knowing the Brit could get weirdly protective over you. So Oscar didn’t know how to react as he just looked at you before muttering through gritted teeth „You didn’t tell me they were here-“

„Who?“ you slurred, placing your head against his shoulder. Your hand going into his hair, his oddly soft hair. Oscar knew the position you two were in already looked bad enough. He didn’t tell Lando he was seeing one of his best friends and he had avoided Max at all costs. So this wasn‘t exactly the ideal way to come clean about it.

„What are you doing here?“ Lando asked, not even greeting the Aussie. But he couldn’t, you were all over Oscar. Lando hated the sight of it. He had thought about it all week since finding out. Now seeing it. The image was gonna be forever engraved in his mind.

„She called me.“ Oscar stated, his mouth dry as Ria punched Maxs shoulder. Because Max was giving Oscar an unnapproving look, which caused the young guy to look terrified.

„She‘s drunk.“ Lando stated pointing at you, as Oscar still was doing the most to help you stand straight. He hated the way he held you. Wanting to rip his dirty fingers off you. He felt like he had been robbed. Robbed even though he knew you werent his. You hadn’t been for so long. The younger Mclaren driver scrunched his eyebrows together, he had no idea why Lando was being so rude to him. He had thought Max had been harsh when they first met. But Lando. Lando was on another level.

„I know. I was just gonna get her home.“ the australian guy stated but was interrupted by Lando walking up to him, grabbing your arm as he forcefully pulled you towards him. Oscar looked dumbfolded as Lando raised his eyebrows, you just laying your head on whatever shoulder it now was. Feeling your head spin. Maybe you had drunk a little too much.

„You always pick up drunk girls at the club?“ Lando spat out. It was a low blow. Even Max found it a little over the top, he tried to stop Lando but was held back by Ria telling him to stay back. Not wanting your brother to make things worse for you.

„What the hell mate?“ Oscar chuckled, trying to overplay the uncomfortableness as people around them were catching on the dispute. Probably thinking Oscar was some d*ck, trying to pick up drunk women. The young guy looked at Lando and then back at Max as if to try to tell him that was bullshit. Oscar didn’t realy care for Lanfos approval. You weren’t his sister. So he didn’t understand why Lando was being such a douche.

„Let it go. She’s not going home with you.“

Lando woke up to loud banging on his bedroom door. He tossed and turned before letting out a frustrated groan. Looking at his phone next to him, god it was early. With a sigh he got up and stumbled to the door, opening it to whoever was causing the unpleasant disturbance so early in the morning.

„What?“ Lando yelled before even seeing who it is. A finger is immediately placed on his naked chest as he looks down at your small frame. He has to prevent himself from laughing, your hair was sticking out into every direction as your smudged makeup made you resemble what he only could describe as a racoon. Or maybe a panda?

„You!“ your voice was deep, signaling Lando that you were mad. He raised his brows as his lips twitched nervously „Me?“

„This is not funny!“ you now yelled, pushing Lando into the room and closing the door behind you. You didn’t want Max and the whole house to hear what you were about to say. A part of living with all your friends you hated.

Lando stood there with only his underwear on as he awaited for you to go off on him with crossed arms.

„You are such a piece of sh*t!“

„I am?“ he chuckled, shaking his head as he placed his hand over his heart. Faking being offended. It was quite obvious to you, that Lando did not take this serious at all and it made you even more mad. It was like it was all a game to him.

„So tell me.“ he licked his lips looking at you with a disgustingly sly grin „Why am I a piece of shit?“

„I woke up to Oscars texts telling me exactly how you literally bullied him out of the club last night!“ you yelled, hearing how childish it sounded. But Lando was immature, it was no secret. He could act like a literal teenager if he wanted to and it made you hair stand up.

„No, No.“ Lando now stated, shaking his head hearing what he was accused of. He knew it was true, but he‘d never admit to „I only didn’t let him take you home. You were absoluetly sh*tfaced!“

„Why do you care if I go home with him?“ you yelled, wanting to rip his head off. Lando clenched his jaw, shaking his head. He knew you both knew why he cared. He hated the thought of you with someone else. He had no right to. So he could never admit it but it was the truth.

„I-I…“ he tried to come up with some logical explanation. But all Lando ever knew was excuses when it came to you. „I don’t want him or any guy to take advantage of drunk girls.“

„Oh, how mighty big of you.“ you hissed shaking your head. You knew it was bullshit. Lando wasn’t like some feminist king going around to protect girls. You turned around, done with his lies as you walked towards the door but before leaving the room you made sure to look back „Just so you know, if anyone’s allowed to take me home while drunk. It isn’t you! Its my boyfriend.“

Boyfriend. That word rang through Landos ears all day long. He couldn’t wrap his head around it. Surely Oscar wasn’t your boyfriend yet. He had not told him so last night. He would have surely used it against him? Lando thought about it. It even kept him awake at night. Tossing and turning at the thought of you laying in Oscars arms. You weren’t home. He knew you were probably with him. Within seconds he pulled out his phone. He cursed himself for having to get up early for work the next day before he picked your contact name as he started typing.

Is Oscar really your boyfriend?

No too blunt.

Are you actually serious about Oscar?

No too passive aggressive.

Can we talk please?

Delivered 00:12 AM

„Be careful!“ you yelled out at Oscar as you looked back at the young guy hopelessly struggling on his bike. Riding bikes along the promenade was new to him. Luckily you were an expert, and the guy dressed in his orange Mclaren shirt just had to follow and hope not to embarass himself too badly. Allthough he knew you‘d never let him feel that way.

„Watch out!“ Oscar screamed at some pedestrians, who were busy taking pictures as they all cursed at him. A guy even holding up a middle finger towards him. You never laughed so hard as you could hear Oscar tell him off in a typical Oscar way, very politely and respectful he had told the guy it was rude. There were so many people here for the Gran Prix this weekend. Some even snapping pictures as they recognized the young rookie.

„That was fun.“ you jumped off your bike as soon as you arrived in front of the already busy paddock. It was only free practice day but the place was still packed with lots of visitors and press. Oscar tried to lock up his newly purchased bike, clearly struggling as he panted for air „Yeah was fun.“

You giggle looking at the young guy who you were convinced wouldnt get the lock on that bike on his own „C‘mon Piastri.“

He stood up as he looked at your smile, clearly defeated. He held the key towards you and just as you were about to take it Oscar grabbed your chin going in for a kiss. You smiled at the gesture as you wrapped your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss not caring if anyone saw. Just as Oscars hand made it’s way down your back and stopped right above your hips a loud noise went off.

You and Oscar jumped apart, at the loud sound of the car horn. Looking to where it was coming from. Your eyes locked with the guy sitting behind the tinted windows. Lando was sitting in his Mclaren holding his hands up as if to claim innocence and pretend he hadn‘t just done that on purpose. He mouthed a short „Sorry“ before getting out his car putting on his sunglasses.

„Morning Oscar.“ Lando strolled past you chewing on his gum, not even acknowledging your presence. You looked after the guy in the white shirt as you rolled your eyes. He could be so goddamn cocky. Oscar only seemed confused. He even laughed it off, figuring Lando had really not intended to do that. You grabbed the Aussies hand as you stomped towards the entrance of the paddock. Oscar just following you, confused on why you were so tense all of the sudden.

„Y/n.“ he stated, stopping in his tracks as you tried to pull him further. You sighed looking back defeated, shrugging your shoulders. Oscar mustered you. That frown. Something clearly was bothering you and it had to do with Lando. He couldn’t pinpoint what it was though. He was scared that by asking, he‘d overstep boundaries. You weren’t offical yet. Despite all the rumors.

„What just happened?“ he knew it. He sensed it. It had been like your world had just turned around. You had looked at Lando so briefly yet it said so much. So much Oscar didn’t understand. Maybe hedidn’t even phantom it as it happened so quick. Cause if he had. If he had looked really hard, he‘d see a girl who was clearly still hung up on someone else.

„Nothing.“ you brushed it off, your lips pressed together.

Oscar knew you were lying. Only he didn‘t have the guts to tell you.

„Alright.“ he nodded, was he mad? You knew you were acting like a bitch. Oscar didn’t derserve this. He deserved someone less complicated. Someone who didn’t lie and hurt people. To your suprise Oscar reached out his hand to you. You hesitated before you took it. You both continuing to make your way inside the paddock. Oscar placed a kiss on your temple just before cameras spotted you „You know you can tell me anything right?“

Anything. You were watching the practice from inside the garage as you felt his presence next to you. He just stood there with crossed arms, his mouth moving. Luckily you couldn‘t understand at least not before taking off your headset that one of the staff members had given you.

„What?“ you sighed looking at Lando who had just gotten out his car early, due to a mechanical issue completely unsatisfied with his performance and the performance of the car. Things could literally only get better. On and off track.

„I said: what are you doing here?“ the Mclaren driver repeated, looking rather unwell with his hair sticking to the sweat dripping down his forehead. The bags under his eyes telling you exactly what you knew already.

„Watching?“ you sassed back, eyes on the screen as you kept your voice low to not catch the attention of anyone. Oscar was still out there to your luck, so there stood no chance of him witnessing what was about to go down.

„Since when do you come to watch free practice?“ he hissed, shaking his head as you completely ignored eye contact. It drove Lando mad. Especially since you wore that. His favorite white dress. He had gotten it for you; you were now wearing it for another guy.

„Since I was invited.“ you now look at him, hoping the harsh tone in your voice would just shut him up once and for all. But Lando just rolled his eyes, getting closer to you before grabbing your arm and pulling you all the way back to his drivers room. You didn‘t do anything, knowing it was time you settled this. Also your legs became pudding just before. You might act all tough but Lando made you incredibly nervous. He looked different this weekend. Grown up.

„You have one hell of an audacity to show up here for a guy who you are clearly not into, in a dress that I payed for.“

You swallowed. 1:0. You couldn’t let that sit.

„Oh, yeah Oscar picked it out this morning.“ you put on a fake smile, basically feeling Landos pulse as you two stood so close. You couldn‘t help it. A glance down at his lips. Was he trying to grow a beard? F*ck. „He also told me how he‘s looking foward to taking it off me tonight.“

Lando clenched his jaw. He wasn’t stupid. He saw those wandering eyes. So he did the one thing that his impulsive mind wanted him to.

„Shut up.“ he muttered before smashing his lips onto yours. You were taken aback. But god. That feeling. Those butterflies. It had only ever been like that with him. You kissed back. You missed him. It had been a whole year. You hadn’t forgotten though. Your hands wrapping around Landos neck pulling him closer as his hands gripped your bare thighs, wandering under your dress. It was a short lived pleasure because as soon as his hand had reached your hips the door was ripped open.

„Lan- What?“

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