#I’m sorry for being a shitty daughter

[b-writing-777]

The lesser choice.

So much I long to say, yet I am a coward.

I cannot voice my love, nor my regret.

You are my father, you have cared for me since existence.

I’m sorry I do this to you, sorry for treating you this way.

I wish I was better.

[not-neverland06]

forgotten promises

pt two of broken promises (I know I'm so creative with names)

bodyguard!logan howlett x fem!runaway reader

a/n: SMUT 18+ MDNI they, like, never use protection (don't be silly, sheathe your willy) but I’d like to make it 100% clear now that she has a magic uterus and there will be absolutely NO baby-making. Just rocking unprotected sex 😎👍 If you’re tagged in this, it does not mean that I am permanently adding you to my taglist. It just means I saw you in my comments/reblogs/inbox asking for a part two and this was the easiest way to let you know I made one. If you would like to be added to the taglist, feel free to ask.  Summary: Life on the road isn't exactly glamorous. Cramped spaces and too many cheap motels have you and Logan at each other's throats. You feel eyes tracking you everywhere you go but you're afraid to tell him, afraid it will be the end of the road for the both of you. One cheap bar and an explosion later and your whole life is flipped upside down.

“What are you doing?”

You glance over Logan’s shoulder at the register. The man behind it isn’t looking at either of you, just disinterestedly scrolling through his phone. 

“Isn’t this what you do?” You ask, motioning to the pack of beef jerky you’re stuffing down your jacket. 

Logan scoffs and shakes his head. “No, kid.” He takes the bag from you and rolls his eyes. 

“Well, then how do you pay for this stuff?”

“Normally, with the money I get from my jobs. But your dad wasn’t too forthcoming with my last paycheck.”

You feel that familiar burning churn of guilt roiling around in your gut. You’ve definitely added another complication to his life and it makes you feel like nothing more than a burden sometimes. “Oh, Logan, I’m sorry.”

Logan glances down at you. He gives you that familiar appeasing look, squeezing you closer, and drags you towards the register. He tosses the snacks and drinks onto the counter. The guy just barely glances up at you both. 

“Will that be all?” He asks in a tone that says he could care less. 

“Yeah,” you answer, eyes drifting towards the magazine rack. Your face is plastered on the cover of a cheap tabloid. 

LOCAL POLITICIANS DAUGHTER STILL MISSING

Exclusive interview with family on PG. 6

Your eyes go wide and you turn your face further into Logan’s chest. He gives you a confused look before his eyes are snagged by the same thing that caught your attention. 

“Why don’t you go wait in the truck?” You nod and slip out of his hold, being mindful to keep your face away from the security camera near the front. 

That keeps happening. You hadn’t thought you would have made news, but your father was making this a part of his campaign. Claiming you’d been taken by a mutant bodyguard and that he’s been praying for your safe return. “Experts” have been claiming that with no ransom demanded you’re being turned into a message for anyone who goes against mutants. 

Now, mutants despise you and everyone else thinks you’re a martyr. In a few years, you’re sure you’ll be turned into some true crime documentary where people you’ve never met before are crying over your disappearance. 

You slide into the truck and let out a deep sigh. You’d thought running away would be freeing. But even a hundred miles from him, you can still feel the cold grip of your father’s hand around your throat. 

“Twenty on pump seven,” Logan tosses the cash on the counter, eyes drifting to you in the truck. It was instinct at this point, always keeping an eye on you. Especially since one of your father’s more fanatic supporters had spotted you in a shitty diner a week ago. They’d called the cops and tried to bar you and Logan from leaving. 

It hadn’t gone over well for him. 

He’d been trying to keep you a little more hidden since then, but it left a sour taste in his mouth. He’d gotten you out of that house to show you what real life was like, to give you a taste of freedom. 

He felt like he was no better than your father, keeping you cooped up and covered constantly. 

When the kid in front of him doesn’t say anything, Logan clears his throat. He gives him a quizzical look but the boy’s eyes are stuck on the door. 

“I swear I know her,” he mutters. Logan’s eyes drift towards the TV behind the counter and he sees an old news story of you. They’re using the footage of the acid attack, claiming you’ve always been the mutant movement’s target. 

“Can I get twenty on pump seven,” Logan repeats, voice firm. The kid finally looks at him and whatever expression Logan is wearing is enough for him to finally start moving. 

The second the receipt is in his hand he’s rushing out the door. He doesn’t know how long it’s going to take that dumbass to piece two and two together but he can’t risk dawdling. 

He fills the tank up, eyes scanning the gas station the entire time. He’s had a cloying sense of paranoia ever since the incident in the diner. He knows that at some point this little run of yours is going to come to an end. 

He doesn’t know if it’ll end with cops finding the two of you. Or if you’re going to realize the real world isn’t all that fun and leave him behind. He knows that a girl like you, one who's used to the finer things, is never going to be satisfied by the life he can offer. 

But he’s hoping that you come to your senses later rather than sooner. He’s enjoying traveling with you a lot more than he wants to admit. 

He gets in the truck, starts it up, and glances over at you. You smile, the smile that makes him feel things he doesn’t like admitting to himself or you. 

“All good?” You ask. 

He nods, driving off without a word because he doesn’t want to tell you the truth. Doesn’t want to admit what you both know to be a fact. The time you have together has an expiration date and he’s worried it’s creeping closer. 

Logan’s inside some shitty roadside motel. Whatever he’s talking about with the owner is clearly getting heated. You can see the way the anger’s growing on his face. His body is tensed up and he looks like he’s five seconds away from leaping over the counter and taking the greasy man leering at him down. 

There’s a final word exchanged between them and then Logan is storming back towards the truck. He slams the door closed so hard you’re surprised the windows don’t shatter. Normally, you sleep in the trailer. It’s not always the warmest or coziest, but you make it work. 

It’s too cold out tonight to do that and Logan doesn’t have a spare tank for the heating. He’d thought he’d had enough for a cheap room for tonight, but clearly, he doesn’t. There’s a tense silence in the truck as you mentally debate saying anything to him. 

His fists are wrapped so tightly around the steering wheel you can hear it creaking. You shift, sitting up straighter in your seat and uncurling your legs. There’s a stiffness to your joints that has you groaning. It’s involuntary, ripped out of you simply because you’ve been sitting for too long. 

It catches Logan’s attention and he glances over at you. There’s a resigned sort of guilt on his face and it makes you feel sick to your stomach. He’s used to this type of lifestyle, and sometimes you think he’s embarrassed to share it with you. 

You’d never judge him for roadside motels or living off cheap gas station meals. You know you were privileged living up with the wealth you did. But there is something infinitely more satisfying about being poor and happy than there ever was being rich and miserable.

“Look, kid,” he lets out a heavy sigh and you mentally prepare yourself for what you’ve been expecting. You were a fun time, a nice ride, but you’re becoming a burden and he can’t deal with it anymore. 

You let your nails dig into the thin skin of your palms so you can attempt to ground yourself. “I need to make some money tonight, so I just need you to bear with me for a while.”

Like there is every time he doesn’t boot you to the curb, a relieved rush of air expels from your chest almost violently.  “Okay,” you say tentatively, the word dragging out while you try and understand his meaning. 

“I just,” he stops and it looks like he’s struggling to find the words to say to you. You wait patiently for him to finish, or try to at least. “There’s a bar nearby. I’ll find some work there,” his words are ominous. They give you nothing and convey so much. 

Clearly, he’s hiding something from you. You can tell that much from the way he’s avoiding eye contact with you. He pulls out of the motel’s parking lot and turns the radio on. You’ve learned that's his way of telling you he doesn’t want to talk without being a dick about it. 

You want to respect his space because you still feel like an imposter. But it’s hard. He’s being oddly cagey about this. 

The drive is short but it feels like you’ve been transported to an entirely different town than the one you were in before. He takes only backroads and middle-class homes turn into shady shops with barbed fences. Caged dogs bark at the truck as it drives by and you get a sinking feeling in your gut. 

Perhaps it’s a little classist of you to automatically assume a few low-end homes equate to a bad neighborhood. But instinctually you know something is off about this place. 

He parks in front of a run-down bar. Even from here, you can hear loud shouts and jeering coming from inside. You don’t know what’s being said but they’re certainly passionate. Logan turns towards you, the expression on his face so serious you feel like you’re about to be scolded. 

“I need you to stay here. I won’t be gone long, just an hour at most. But you need to stay in the truck.”

Your jaw gapes and you scoff at him. “Logan, an hour that’s rid-”

He cuts you off with a stern call of your name. Your mouth snaps shut and you narrow your eyes at him, teeth gritting together to keep your tongue at bay. “Stay here, I mean it. Got it?”

You nod and he repeats your name, sounding aggrieved. “Fine,” you huff. “I got it.” He lingers for a moment. You don’t know if he doesn’t trust you or is just reluctant to leave you alone. You’re reluctant to be left alone, especially in a shady dark parking lot like this. But clearly whatever is going on inside is worse than whatever could happen to you out here. 

“I’ll be back soon,” he makes this whole thing sound so grave. It makes your brows furrow and doubt churn in your gut. What could he be doing in there that’s so awful?

He gets out and you watch his form under the flickering street lamps until you can’t see him anymore. You sit quietly in the truck for at least three minutes before you already feel the boredom set in. 

You’d thought you’d be able to last longer. You used to go for hours dissociating at your father’s galas. This is different, though. You’re a little afraid to let your guard down here. 

You try to listen to music but you feel bad wasting his gas so you just turn the truck off and huddle under a blanket in the trailer. You try and let yourself fall asleep but you don’t last long. 

It’s too cold outside to really get a good rest and you can hear people moving around outside the trailer. After about an hour of rolling around and frozen limbs, you figure enough is enough. 

As much as you don’t want to provoke Logan or give him any reason to get rid of you, you can’t stay in here all night. Besides, Logan said he wouldn’t be long, you can always just lie and say you were worried about him. 

Satisfied with your excuse you leave the comfort of your blanket behind and slip into Logan’s jacket. You tuck the truck keys in your pocket and walk out into the snowy night. It’s less cold outside than it was in the trailer, you can see why he wanted a motel room for the night. 

A few people linger by the cars, smoking and muttering to themselves. You slip past them, ignoring the feeling of their eyes burning into your skin. You’re sure it's because you look like you don’t belong here. 

The noise in the bar gets louder the closer you get and it reminds you of the night Logan had snuck you out of the house. But you’d had him to lean on, right now, until you find him, you’re on your own. For all the noise coming from the building, the bar is surprisingly empty. 

Only a few old men are sitting around, drinking beers in silence. The bartender cleans glasses behind the counter, sparing you an odd look before getting back to work. There’s not very far for you to look before you figure out that Logan isn’t anywhere nearby. 

“Excuse me?” The bartender spares you a fleeting glance before barely grunting in greeting. 

The floor underneath you tremors and you glance down at it in surprise. You can hear something going on underneath. You figure that has to be where all the noises are coming from. “I’m looking for someone. Tall, mean as hell, he’s got this hair,” you swoop your hands up by the sides of your head, trying to mimic the odd fluff of Logan’s hair. 

“Downstairs.” You nod and move around the bar, trying to get to the door behind him. He reaches out, grabbing your bicep and stopping you before you can get far. “It's a forty-dollar entrance fee, sweetheart.”

Your brow furrows in confusion and you frown as you dig around in your jacket pockets. You’ve come too far to be deterred now. Ignoring the moral implications, you slip Logan’s wallet out of his jacket and give the man forty dollars. 

He nods towards the door and you give him a weak thank you as you slip past him. Opening the door is like breaking a seal. The noises bombard you almost immediately, so much clearer than they were before. 

You still can’t understand what they’re screaming but there’s a violent atmosphere slipping around you as you head down the stairs. The heady smell of cigars and cigarettes threatens to suffocate you. Your eyes water at the smoke in the air. 

You’d think you’d have gotten used to secondhand smoking after being around Logan, but he’s less inclined to hotbox the car if you’re beside him. The second your feet hit the floor you’re being jostled to the side violently by the people around you. 

It’s nearly impossible to elbow your way through the crowd, but you’re determined to figure out what’s in the middle of the cage that’s got them all excited. You can hear the people around you screaming out bets and numbers you don’t understand. 

For one nauseating moment, you think this might be a dog fighting ring, that Logan gambles on it to earn his money. It makes you want to turn around, to shield yourself from the truth. But this is something he tried to keep hidden from you and you need to know the truth about whoever you’re traveling with. 

You can hear the announcer, but you can’t get close enough to see anything yet. “Are you gonna let this man walk away with your money?” There’s a resounding NO! from the crowd that makes you jump. 

A booming voice shouts over the throng of voices, “I’ll take him!” 

“Our savior ladies and gentlemen!” You shove through two men, ignoring the way they complain about how their beer sloshes on their sleeves. 

“Hey-” You glance over your shoulder as one of them reaches for you.  You flick your wrist, sending him and his friend tumbling back into the crowd. You roll your eyes and turn back towards the cage. 

Your eyes widen and so do Logan’s as you finally see what exactly is going on. He’s cage fighting, this is what he’d been so secretive about. Honestly, it’s a relief compared to the brutality you were bracing yourself for. 

You can see his lips starting to form the shape of your name but the man from before is barrelling into his side as the bell goes off. You wince, jumping away from the cage as you hear the meaty impact of his fist against Logan’s face. 

The people near you scream, shouting for Logan’s blood. It’s easy to figure out that he’s been beating everyone he’s gone up against based on some bloody faces in the crowd. It’s smart, easy money. He can always heal, and can never really be beaten, not when he’s literally got fists of steel. 

You’re surprised that no one’s ever caught onto this scam of his. You also wonder why he had been so adamant about you not seeing this. Sure, it’s brutal watching blood spray against the mat. But you don’t care. Besides, he’s ridiculously attractive in just his jeans as he pummels into some guy. 

Maybe that’s not a normal line of thinking. 

You shake your head, shelving that for later as the fight dies down. The man is limp on the mat of the cage and Logan is leaning against the wall, smoking a cigar and pointedly not looking at you. 

You feel that familiar twisting feeling in your stomach and wonder if this was a horrible idea. You should have just stayed in the car like he asked. You’re sure it would have only been another hour of tirelessly rolling around before he came back. But you couldn’t help yourself. 

He tells you so little about himself. If you get a chance to learn more, you’re going to pounce on the opportunity. Maybe it was a violation of his trust. You sincerely doubt that he would ever willingly have revealed this sort of lifestyle to you, though. 

He seems to be under the same misguided intention that you need to be sheltered. It reminds you a little of your father. That might be a cruel comparison but it’s the same suffocating feeling of being kept in the dark to suit their needs. 

The guilt you’d been holding unfurls and blossoms into anger. You find yourself retreating away from the cage and rushing back up the stairs of the bar. You don’t want to watch him fight any longer. You don’t want to look at him. 

You just want him to treat you like an equal. Not like some little girl who’s going to run at the first sign of things getting hard. 

You burst through the door of the bar, ignoring the cold laughter of the bartender behind you. He clearly seemed to think you couldn’t handle a little blood. He wasn’t the only one. 

You’re only a couple of feet from the truck when you hear footsteps loudly stomping through the snow behind you. “What the hell were you doing?” You scoff, unbelieving that he would have the gall to shout at you. 

You whirl around on him and it catches him off guard. His right foot slides against the slush as he tries to stop himself from ramming into you. “I’m not a little girl, Logan! You don’t need to hide stuff like that from me.”

He crosses his arms and glares down at you. “I wasn’t hiding anything,” he insists. But the tone of his voice gives him away. He doesn’t like that he was caught. “I don’t need to tell you jackshit about what I do for money.”

You can’t believe how he sounds right now. Why is he getting so defensive about this? “I don’t care what you do for money, alright. I just don’t get why you felt like I couldn’t know about this.” You hate the way the hurt is audible in your voice. You wear your heart on your sleeve, even when you try and cover it. 

In the same way, he’s masking his feelings with anger, so are you. Just with less success. Something draws across his face, some emotion you can’t discern. His voice goes cold and quiet as he shoves an envelope full of cash into your hands. 

“Go back to the motel. Get a room.”

He storms past you and walks towards the trailer. You follow after him, slightly dumbfounded by how he’s behaving. He rips his motorcycle out from the back and rolls it into a parking spot. You watch him do all this with your tongue glued to the roof of your mouth. 

It’s only when he starts to head back towards the bar that you realize he’s not coming with you. “Logan!” You call out, trailing after him slightly. He barely turns back to face you. “Are you,” the words die on your tongue and you can’t find it in yourself to finish. 

Are you angry?

Are you leaving?

Are you going to ditch me at the next bus stop?

Instead of asking any of your ridiculously pining questions, you turn on your heel and storm towards the truck. You rip the door open with more force than necessary and drive off without looking back at him. But you know he watches, know he keeps an eye on you until he can’t see you anymore. 

Your rides with him are normally silent, but this one feels painfully so. 

You nearly get a room with two beds. But you feel like if you do it will be a horrendous mistake. Reluctantly, you give the man behind the counter enough for a room with one bed large enough for the both of you. 

You’re not exactly excited about sharing a bed with him, not after how he behaved tonight. You grumble to yourself as you drag your bag inside and toss it on the ground. You picture putting up a wall of pillows between the two of you, just to be petty. 

It’s as you’re showering that you realize you might not even have to. He might not come to join you tonight. He won’t know what room you’re in. And he’d made it pretty clear how pissed he was at you for sneaking into the bar. 

Maybe you’ve finally pushed him too far. You’ve been toying with the boundaries of his patience for a while. Little tests to determine whether he truly wants you around simply to have a warm body ready beside him. Or if he wants you because he genuinely cares for you. 

You suppose tonight, whether you want it or not, you’ll finally have the truth. 

The thought keeps you awake. You toss and you turn for hours, fighting with yourself. You should be happy, finally figuring out what’s been haunting you. But you’re not. You’re petrified. You’d rather keep living a lie than finally accept that he truly doesn’t want you. 

You throw the covers off, the scratchy material only further adding to your irritation. You stomp into the bathroom, slamming the door closed behind you. You turn on the sink splashing some cool water over your face to try and rid yourself of the warmth lingering under your skin. You don’t know if this feeling of being uncomfortable in your own body is from pent-up anger or anxiety. 

You don’t care. You just want to sleep this night away and pretend it never happened. But, of course, the universe has other plans. The motel door creaks open as you’re hovering over the sink, debating whether or not you’re nauseous enough to throw up. 

You tilt your head slightly towards the sound. Growing up in your house, filtering through rooms like an unheard ghost, allowed you to get good at recognizing footsteps. Logan has finally decided to grace you with his presence. 

You listen to him as he creeps silently across the room, landing on the squeaky bed. You press your ear against the door and can hear the way the sheets rustle and he cusses under his breath. There’s worry staining his voice and you figure you shouldn’t drag this on much longer. 

You open the bathroom door and flip the switch, turning the lamps on like a disappointed mother waiting up for her teenager. You cross your arms mutely and lean against the doorframe as he winces under the sudden light. 

He jumps, just slightly, and glares over at you. “Thought you weren’t here,” he accuses. He tries sounding angry, but you have a sudden rush of clarity in that moment. Where you would normally focus only on him being upset with you, you can see the truth of his concern.

Same as you, he doesn’t know where he stands in this whole situation. You doubt he had a clear plan when he rescued you from your tower like some ridiculous storybook knight. He most likely thought that you left, the same way you thought he would. 

You remain silent, though, still a little too flustered to speak coherently. Instead, you examine him. There are cuts and blood all over his shirt. Splatters of it on his face. Though, you know if you looked there would be no physical evidence of him ever being hurt. 

His brows furrow the longer you stare, a wall building between the two of you. “Kid?” He questions, equal parts worried and defensive. Does he really think you actually give a fuck about him fighting?

You shake your head and walk back into the bathroom. You rustle around in the cabinet underneath the sink until you find a washcloth. Wetting it, you bring it back out to him. You station yourself between his spread legs, holding the cloth between you like a peace offering. 

He looks doubtful as he glances between you and it. Finally, he lets out a rough sigh and simply nods his head. But when he reaches for it you snatch it back, much to his chagrin. You offer him a small smile and tilt his chin up towards you, gently wiping some of the dried blood off his cheeks. 

He doesn’t flinch or hiss away from the less-than-gentle fabric. He stares at you unblinkingly, like if he closes his eyes for a moment he’ll wake up and this will all have been a dream. “You don’t have to do this, kid.”

You roll your eyes and crane your neck to get a better look at him. “Would you shut up?” You whisper teasingly. 

His lips quirk slightly and you can see his shoulder slump in relief at the sound of your voice. “So, she can talk.” You can’t help the little laugh that comes out of you. He grins fully at that and his hands come up to rest on your hips. 

His thumbs rub soothing circles along the sides of your waist as his hands dip a little lower. “What are you doing?” Your hand drifts down to his neck to wipe some blood off there as well. 

He shakes his head and shrugs, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You lift your gaze to his and your lips fall flat, “Logan-”

He cuts you off before you can finish. In one smooth motion, his hands drop to wrap around your thighs. He lifts you slightly and drops you onto his lap. He grins at the slight huff of surprise that rushes out of you. 

His arms go back to your waist, pulling you closer to him and grinding you a little against him. You bite your lip to stop any noises from escaping. As much as you wouldn’t mind what he’s thinking, you need to talk. 

“Logan,” you scold. 

He smirks and tilts his head patronizingly, “Something wrong, sweetheart?”

“It’s not happening,” you tell him firmly, hand still working on cleaning him. 

He sighs and one of his arms drops away from you. He cups your hand in his, stilling your movements and forcing you to meet his gaze. Gently, he takes the cloth from you and tosses it somewhere you can’t see. “I’m fine,” he whispers, eyes searching yours. 

It’s hard meeting his gaze. The worry and anxiety from the night still weigh heavily on your shoulders. He repeats himself, fingers tilting your chin up to face him. “Alright?”

“I don’t care,” the words come rushing out of you before you can stop them. His brows raise in shock and he gives a slight chuckle of amusement. A lump grows in your throat and your eyes grow wide. “Wait, I don’t mean-”

You cut yourself off and rub your hands over your face, trying to get your head on right. Logan’s patient, rubbing your back and clearly trying not to laugh at you. You finally take in a deep breath and face him again. 

“I don’t care about the fighting,” you can see his shoulders tense slightly like he doesn’t believe you. “I don’t care, Logan. You do what you have to survive and I’m not gonna judge you for that.”

“What if I enjoy it?” He cuts you off, tone harsh as he glares down at you. There's experience in how quickly he doubts you, how quickly he tries to get you to change your mind about him.

You wonder how many times he’s been rejected just for being a mutant. You’ve only ever been rejected by one person because only he ever knew. Your father. And that hurt enough for one lifetime. 

You can’t imagine going for as long as he has and constantly being called a monster for something he can’t control. Your brows furrow and you lean into him until your lips are brushing. He remains stiff beneath you but you don’t let it deter you. 

“I don’t care,” you tell him, pressing your lips to his before slowly pulling back. You wait for him to respond, physically or verbally, but he’s still looking at you with that cold unfamiliar gaze. 

You wonder if maybe it was a mistake, to bring it up at all. But just as the thought comes he’s surging forward. His lips catch yours, his hands digging so desperately into your shirt you know it rips. 

Your arms go to his neck, holding onto him so you don’t slip off his lap. You haven't been this close for a few days. You think it might have made you both feel on edge. There’s a relief that comes from not just having sex with him, but also just being intimate and close to one another. 

It’s a reminder that you’re not alone, that there’s someone here beside you to be a partner and a pillar of stability. You’ve never had that before. Someone that you can rely on and trust fully. You don’t think he has either. 

He craves you the same way you do him. Each kiss, every shared breath, is treated like it will be your last. You don’t know when your father will finally catch up to the two of you. You don’t know when the police might finally recognize Logan. 

There’s no definitive future for either of you. It’s a real possibility that this could be your last night together. And neither of you wants to be upset with each other. Because you were never truly mad. You were always just worried. 

Your hands drop to his shirt, dipping to find the holes in it from his fight and ripping at the flimsy fabric until you can just yank it off. He smiles against your lips at the eager way you move atop him. But he can’t tease you, he’s already annoyed with the buttons on your shirt. 

He pulls back, glaring down at the fabric like it's insulting him. Without another word, he slices through it, leaving it in tatters on your shoulder. You grin, shrugging the rest of it off. “That was yours.”

He grips your hips tightly and leaves marks where his fingers are as a reminder that he was here. He flips you over, leaves you breathless as he hovers over you. “I really don’t give a fuck, sweetheart.”

You’re addicted to his voice. How breathy and desperate it is when he’s with you. It’s a level of vulnerability you rarely get to see from him. He can’t hide himself when he’s with you like this. He wants you just as badly as you do him. 

It gives you a confidence rush like no other, makes your ego grow ten times its size. If you can make a man like this fall to his knees from nothing more than a kiss, then you’re capable of a lot more than you give yourself credit for. 

But you don’t want that tonight. You reach for him before he can go much further, grabbing him by his hair and tugging until you know it stings. He nearly fucking moans at your rough touch, eyes fluttering open to meet yours. The green of them has been wholly consumed by his desire for you and it makes you ache for him. 

“Not tonight,” you tell him. There’s no room for argument in your tone. As much as he might want to taste you, devour you, all you want is to be as close to him as possible. You want to be covered and filled by him in every way you can be. 

His head falls against your thigh, a rough groan tumbling from his throat at your words. You drag him towards you, pulling him up your body until you’re face to face. You smile softly up at him, lifting your head so you can meet his lips again. 

You’ll never get enough of kissing him, of tasting him. Sometimes you have to stop yourself from reaching across the seats and kissing him while he drives. You’ve nearly made him wreck a few times and forced him to pull over so you could both have some fun in the back. 

Addiction isn’t the right word for what you feel for him. It brings along its own negative connotations. The taint of dependency and toxicity. With addiction, it’s a parasitic relationship, hurts you but makes you feel good. 

This is just goodness. This is a kind touch for the first time in your life and finally feeling safe in someone elses arms. This is opening yourself up to him fully and not once feeling like you need to mold yourself into something else to make him happy. It’s accepting him as he is, a broken dog who likes to fight to punish himself. You don’t want to change him or make him “better.” You just want him to be happy. 

You use your powers to help yourself, flipping him over and straddling his hips. You drag his jeans down his legs and flick your wrist, sending them flying somewhere across the room. He watches you with eyes filled with awe, hands drifting over your curves like something to be worshipped. 

You know he’s waiting for it, for you to sink yourself down on him and finally be filled. But you wait, hover over him even as the muscles of your thighs tremor. “You don’t hide things from me anymore,” you warn him. You’re not asking, for once, you’re demanding what you want. 

He doesn’t look angry like you’d been expecting. Instead, it only seems to turn him on more. “Ya know,” his hands drift to your hips, dragging you down and over his cock until it’s wet with your want. Your nails dig into his chest until there’s blood beading under them and you’re trying not to let your noises slip out. 

“I kinda like it when you’re all bossy like this.” 

“Logan,” you grit his name out. It takes everything in you not to look as affected by him as you feel. “No more hiding shit.”

He leans up on his elbows. His hand drifts to the nape of your neck and drags you down until your lips are nearly touching his. “Yeah, I got it, sweetheart.”

Like a taut rope being cut, you sink into him, your hips finally drop and he guides you down every inch of him until you feel like you’re so full you can’t breathe. He lets you linger for a moment, and get used to this feeling while he steals the very air from your lungs. 

He’s greedy with the way he touches you. His hands always moving like he’ll never fully be satisfied with how much of you he can feel. He’s always reaching for you like he needs to make sure you’re actually real and not just something he’s dreamt up. 

Even with how impatient he is, you’re always the one that moves first. You roll your hips over him, moaning at how he feels inside you. It’s like he’s perfectly molded you around him. He always manages to brush against the spots that make your eyes roll into the back of your head. 

The second your hips begin to roll, he’s wrapping his heavy arms around you, grinding you down into him. He keeps you trapped in place, using you like a toy as he bounces you on his lap. Your mind is fuzzy, every bad thought and feeling shoved out while he makes you go dumb on his dick.

You love how boneless you go. You don’t have to think now, don’t have to worry. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, shifting yourself further on top of him until you're practically burying yourself under his skin. 

Not thinking always comes with its own consequences, though. Your powers slip a little out of your grasp. The walls trembling and the drawers and cabinets opening and closing. The both of you have gotten used to the noise, know how to drown it out, and just focus on each other. 

One of these days, you’ll need to figure out a way to have sex with him without bringing the room down around you. That’s a problem for later though. His whispered praises and grunts of your name filter through your mind until there’s nothing left inside you but him. 

“Fuck,” he hisses in your ear, “you’re so fucking tight around me. You close?” He grunts, hand drifting down to rub tight circles on your clit. You dig your nails into his shoulders, nodding your head frantically against his neck. “Words, sweetheart.”

“Shit,” you can barely think of your own damn name. Let alone what you want from him. “Fuck off,” you hiss. He chuckles at the attitude and you almost expect him to stop, just to be a dick because you were a brat. 

But he’s just as close as you are and he’s too selfish to tease. Wave after wave of pleasure crashes down on you as your body shakes against his. He follows quickly after you, warmth shooting up inside you and almost leaking down your thighs. You feel stuffed, like your body’s been pushed to the limit and further. 

You both sit together in silence for a while. You ignore the way your skin sticks to his uncomfortably, instead reveling in the warmth he provides you. Anyone else, and you’d be rushing to get away from them. 

You’re always extra sensitive after sex, every little thing setting you off. But there’s a comfort to the way his hairy ass chest brushes against your breasts and his arms squeeze around you. It’s a nice grounding feeling. 

The tips of your fingers drift over his arms, following the path of his veins and brushing against his fingers lazily. He flips his palm over, encasing your hand in his own wordlessly. Little things like that ease your worries. Makes you feel like something more than just a quick fuck. 

He breaks the silence first, which is rare for him. “I’m sorry about tonight.”

You frown and peer up at him. “I told you, I don’t care about the fighting.”

He sighs and shakes his head, “Not that. I shouldn’t have gotten so fucking mad at you. You didn’t do anything wrong.” You want to interrupt him, assure him that you both acted pretty childishly. 

But you understand it’s difficult for him to express himself verbally. He usually prefers silent acts of apologies and expression, you don’t want to mess him up before he can get out what he wants to say. 

“I don’t want to be like your father.” Your face screws up a little and you shift uncomfortably on his lap. He loosens his grip, giving you room to leave if you want to, but you stay put. “I’m trying not to coddle you, sweetheart, or hide you away from the world. But I don’t like you seeing that shit.”

“You’re not my dad, Logan. He wouldn’t give me a choice,” you try and joke but it just seems to make him more irritated. Sighing you straighten up, bracing yourself on his chest and staring down at him. 

Your head tilts to the side in contemplation and he almost looks uncomfortable under the attention. “I’m not so fragile or sheltered that I’m going to shatter at the first taste of the real world, Logan. I mean, for god’s sake, I’ve had acid thrown at me and bodyguards since I could walk. I know how dangerous it is. Whatever you want to hide from me, I’ve seen worse.”

You let your words sink in for a moment and he looks at you like he’s seeing you for the first time. You know that it’s odd for him, to comprehend a girl who was afraid to go into a bar swallowing down an illegal fighting ring like it’s nothing. But you’re not lying. Everyday little things are what you’re unused to. But you’ve lived alongside violence your whole life. 

“Look, fighting, sleeping in shitty motels, and your truck, that doesn't bother me. But I don’t like when you hide things and I don’t,” you take in a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself for the worst. This is what you’ve been trying to tell him for weeks. 

A few little words have your tongue tied and make you desperate to cover yourself up again. He can see the shift in your expression, and feel how tense you get. He sits up a little more, thumb rubbing soothing circles over the back of your hand. 

“I don’t want to just be someone to fuck you, Logan. I didn’t come with you so you’d have easy access pussy,” he looks thoroughly amused at your crude words, but there’s something else lingering in his expression. Something like hurt. 

“Is that what you think?” He asks, tone distant. You can’t find the words so you simply nod. He sighs and shakes his head. He eases you off his lap and you worry you’ve truly fucked this up somehow. 

He goes into the bathroom, returns with a wet washcloth. He still doesn’t speak and you’re on edge the entire time he cleans the both of you up. You can see he’s thinking, biting his tongue, and trying to figure out what it is that he wants to say to you. 

You’re impatient, five seconds away from just demanding a response from him. He tosses the cloth and drops into bed beside you. You draw the sheets up to your chest, glaring down at him while he rubs his hands over his face with a tired sigh. 

When he opens his eyes again he laughs at how close you are. “Jesus,” he wraps an arm around your waist, dragging you down into his chest even though you fight him. It must be easier for him to speak when you’re not staring at him. 

“I didn’t go back for you so I could fuck you, kid. I… care about you,” there’s a long pause before he says the word care. You think it’s funny, that he can’t bring himself to admit what he actually feels. But you’ll take it, you’ll give him the time he needs to come to terms with the truth. 

For now, you let yourself fall asleep, feeling just a little bit better about the road ahead. 

Things get easier between the two of you. And somehow harder at the same time. You don’t walk on eggshells around each other, no longer afraid of scaring the other off now. Which also means that you find it easier to bicker with him about little things. Like, not just tossing his trash everywhere in the truck. You’re practically living out of the trailer, the least he could do is help you keep it tidy. 

You know it’s weird for him. Suddenly having someone nag at him not to be a slob or to take breaks in between driving so he doesn’t wear himself out. It’s an adjustment you see him struggle with sometimes. 

You try not to be too pushy, but there’s only so many times you can flick crumbs from his burgers off your seat before you lose it. “Logan!” You snap, glaring at him as you stand up only to find chip crumbs squished into the fabric of your leggings. 

He glances over at you and shrugs, “What?” 

You glance between the crumbs and him with a glare but he doesn’t seem to be connecting the dots. “Fucks sake,” you grumble, passive-aggressively wiping the truck seat off before you slam the door and storm towards the diner. 

You’re sick of being cramped in the truck. You’re sick of the greasy food. You’ve begun to crave salads lately. Which is beyond weird. But the novelty of shitty food and milkshakes wore off a hundred miles ago. 

Logan catches up to you, huffing with irritation as he swings the door open for you. You take a seat in the booth near the corner, snatching up the menu and pointedly staring at it and not him. “Really?” He demands. When you don’t answer he tips the menu down, forcing you to meet his gaze. “What is your problem?” He hisses, trying not to draw attention to you both. 

You lean in, voice a harsh whisper. “How hard is it to just not make a mess? We live out of that damn truck, the least you could do is keep your crumbs on your side.”

He rolls his eyes and leans back in the booth. You’re both sick of having the same fight. But there’s really nothing else to do anymore. When you’re stuck together for so long, it’s the small things that get to you. 

You’re going to say more but the waitress pops in front of you out of nowhere. “Hi!” She beams and gives you her name, the bows in her hair trembling at how hyper she is. “What can I get you both today?”

You and Logan place your orders, and he shoots you an odd look when you only order the salad. “We’ve got a couple more hours ahead of us, you’re gonna get hungry.”

You cross your arms and shrug, “No, I won’t.”

He licks his lips, sucking on his teeth and leaning against the table. “Yes, you will,” he argues with a stern voice. 

You narrow your eyes at him and give him a bitter smile. “Kiss. My. Ass.”

Your stomach grumbles for the third time and you know that Logan can hear it. You’re pointedly not making eye contact with him. It feels like it's louder than the music at this point and you really don’t want to prove him right. 

Without a word, he begins to dig around in the center console. You glance towards him, confused, “What’re you doing?”

He doesn’t say anything, just tosses whatever he’s grabbed onto your lap. You glance down at it and frown. It’s somehow cold as you unwrap it. You pull the parchment paper away and let out a relieved sigh. 

He ordered you a wrap from the diner without you realizing. You take a bite, your hunger steadily easing away. “I’m sorry,” you mutter, pointedly looking out the window. 

He glances over at you and scoffs. “What was that? Couldn’t hear ya, kid.” 

You roll your eyes and turn to glare at him. He’s already looking at you, a teasing tilt to his lips. “I said I’m sorry,” you snap. “I shouldn’t have been a bitch.”

He shakes his head and waves you off. “I haven’t exactly been pleasant myself. I’ll,” he huffs lowly and forces the words out, “clean up more.”  

“I think we’ve just been stuck on the road too long. We’re gonna end up driving each other insane.”

His eyes glance along the signs on the highway. There’s a notice for food and shopping at the next exit and he nods towards it. “We’ll stop at a motel for a few nights. Take a break.” You want to ask him if he’s sure that’s smart. 

It seems risky, to slow down for so long. But you need to walk around, breathe fresh air, and stretch your legs. You’re too selfish to tell him not to stop and keep going. Instead, you nod and smile at him. “That sounds really nice.”

He gives you a slight smile that’s gone as quickly as it came, reaching over and resting his hand on your thigh. You move closer to him and he turns the radio up. You wonder why he doesn’t want to talk anymore but you don’t push it. You’re too excited to finally get out of the truck again. 

The town is nice enough. It’s small, with only a few shops where you buy some new shirts to replace one’s that Logan has torn up. The motel you’re staying at doesn’t have a washing machine so you have to use the laundromat to wash your clothes. 

Logan says he’s going to see if he can find a quick job nearby. You wonder if that means a real job or a more bloody one. You decide not to ask questions, instead taking the little change you have and figuring you’ll try to get the smell of grease out of all your clothes. 

As you load the machine up and put your quarters in you can’t escape the feeling of someone watching you. You’ve been on high alert ever since Logan stole you away from the house. But this is different. 

You’ve gotten used to your own paranoia, you know when it’s real or not. You walk away from the machine, glancing out at the glass walls near the front and trying to see if there’s someone out there. This, oddly enough, doesn’t feel like a police stakeout where they’re going to track you back to the motel and bust Logan. 

This is something different. There is a deep-seated primal fear in you that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up. Your heart races as your eyes search the dark street outside. What little glow comes from the streetlights isn’t enough for you to clearly make anything out. 

But you feel them, tracking your every move. They’re somewhere nearby, you can’t see them but they see you. You feel sick to your stomach. You glance at the door before racing towards it. You turn the lock, slowly backing away and keeping your eyes trained on the street. 

You look into the shadows and find shapes and movements where there are none. Your eyes spin as your brain crafts a horrible image of some monster waiting outside for you. When the timer for the washer goes off you let out a sharp scream, spinning around and clutching your chest as you glare at it. 

“Fuck’s sake,” you mutter, angrily running your hand over your face and trying to catch your breath. You put the clothes in the dryer and by the time you're done, the feeling is gone. You don’t know if they were never there to begin with, or if they got bored and left. 

You’d told Logan that you didn’t need a ride, you’d just walk the short distance back to the motel. Now, you use the phone on the front counter and call him, telling him you’ve changed your mind after all. 

By the time he picks you up, he looks incredibly concerned. You know you sounded panicked when you called him. You still feel upset about the whole thing. But when he asks what’s wrong you just tell him you got a little scared walking back in the dark. 

You don’t tell him someone was watching you because you know he’ll make you pack up and leave again. You want some stability. Even if it's just for a week. So, as stupid as it is, you lie to him and say everything’s fine. 

When you try to go to sleep that night you feel like you’re being watched again. Even with the curtains closed their eyes burn into you. You toss and turn under the heavy weight of the sheets, struggling to get comfortable. 

There’s a low grumble behind you before Logan throws his arm over your waist and tugs you back into his chest. “Stop movin’ around,” he demands, his voice barely audible. You smile a little at how tired he sounds before forcing yourself to settle down. 

He doesn’t give you much choice, using his body as a weight to keep you pinned. You still feel their gaze, even more now, but his proximity brings you enough comfort to get a little bit of restless sleep. 

Logan’s up before you, he always is. He comes in with cheap coffee and free breakfast from the lounge. You push the sheets off your legs, your shirt sticking to your back from the cold sweat of your nervous sleeping. You feel a little more at ease this morning. 

You wonder if you’re developing some late-in-life fear of the dark. You don’t know why you were so upset last night, you feel perfectly fine now. It’s almost like it was all one bad dream. Logan walks over, handing you the coffee wordlessly and rustling around in your bag for something. 

He pulls out the envelope of cash you keep stashed away and frowns at the contents. “Found a job,” he mutters, stuffing the envelope away and turning back towards you. He leans against the desk, face pensive. 

You rub your eyes, trying to wake yourself up a bit more so you sound coherent. “What is it?” You take a sip of the coffee and your face screws up at the aftertaste. 

“Fighting,” his tone is clipped and you wonder what’s got him up in arms. He walks past you, heading into the bathroom, and closing the door behind him. You tilt your head, gaze following him curiously. He doesn’t normally close the door, he usually likes to invite you to join him. 

Something happened and you wonder if he’s hiding the same thing you are. You close your eyes, taking in a deep breath and closing your mind off to the fear from last night. 

By the time Logan is done in the bathroom, you’re feeling more awake. You can’t just dismiss what happened last night. You’ve never gotten scared like that before. You refuse to ignore your instincts, but you’re also not going to let whoever that was terrify you into going back on the road. 

You don’t want things between you and Logan to grow more tense than they already are. The time away from each other yesterday helped a lot. You no longer want to strangle him when you hear him breathe. You’ll just stick closer to him today and see if you feel the eyes on you again tonight. 

“So,” you start, testing the waters to see if he’s still in a bad mood. He glances over at you, eyebrows quirked in curiosity but you’re tongue-tied as you stare at him. However many weeks you’ve been with him and you’re never gonna get used to seeing him straight out of the shower. 

The towel is draped low on his hips, giving you a taunting look at what lies underneath the white cloth. Droplets drip down his abs and you’ve never wanted to be water more than you do right now. It’s unfair, just how attractive he is. 

You always forget what you’re going to say. You can’t think when he has a shirt off, it’s infuriating. Scoffing, you turn away from him and shake your head. You hear him chuckle, you know he knows what you’re thinking about. 

“What’s wrong?” He creeps up behind you, arms wrapping around your waist and tugging you back into his chest. 

“Logan, dammit,” water soaks into the back of your shirt uncomfortably and you tilt your head to glare at him. 

He smirks down at you, “Cat got your tongue, kid?”

You roll your eyes and push away from him. “I can’t even remember what I was going to say.” You snatch a shirt from the dresser and shove it into his hands. “Put this on.”

He scoffs and gives you a disbelieving look. “Are you serious?” You wait for him, gaze expectant. You’re not gonna be able to think when he looks like this. Sighing, he acquieses and tugs the shirt on. His lips fall into a sarcastic line, “Happy?”

Like a switch being flipped you finally remember what you were going to ask him. “The job you told me about. Where is it?”

You can see on his face how little he wants to divulge that information to you. But you know he’s going to tell you. You two made a deal not to hide things, although, you might be breaking your side of that right now. 

“Some shitty bar a few miles from here. Listen-”

You’re not gonna like it. 

I don’t want you tagging along. 

You should just stay here and read or some shit.

You wonder which one he’ll pick today. “You wouldn’t like it, it’s just a shitty little place where I can make some quick cash.” Look at that, it’s rarely ever your first pick excuse. You must be getting better at reading him. 

“I’ll come with you,” you tell him because you’re not asking. You’re not staying by yourself tonight and you both need the money. You grin at him even as his face falls in disappointment. “Maybe I’ll fight.”

He doesn’t even say anything and you immediately regret what you said. The look he’s giving you would put you six feet under if it could. “It was just a joke,” you mutter.

“Wasn’t funny, kid,” he tells you, tone clipped as he moves around you to grab his jeans. “I don’t even want you in those places, let alone fuckin’ fighting.”

You purse your lips and take a seat on the bed, handing him his jacket when he begins looking for it. “I have abilities too, you know. Maybe I could win a fight.”

“Don’t,” he snaps. “I win because I can take the hits people deal me. You can’t,” you don’t bother arguing with him that you heal too. You understand what he means. You might be able to recover physically, but there’s a mental aspect to being knocked on the ground. There’s humiliation and fear in cage fights, you probably wouldn’t be able to handle that side of it. 

He waits for you to say anything else but when he realizes you’ve dropped the subject he lets out a relieved sigh. “You’ll stay in the truck,” he tries. 

You give him a deadpan look, slipping the keys out of your purse and handing them to him. “No way in hell, but I’ll stay by the bar if it makes you feel better.” He stays silent and nods but you know he’ll try and convince you otherwise when you actually get to the place. Tough luck, though, you don’t think it’s safe for either of you to be apart tonight. Even if it’s just staying in the truck. 

The setup of these places is always the same. Though, this bar seems to be particularly disgusting in comparison to other ones you’ve been to. You position yourself near the corner, your back to the wall so you’re less likely to be noticed in the crowd. 

The fights never last more than a few minutes. And that’s if Logan is feeling generous. Most of the time you only need to be here an hour before people get pissed off and go home. Someone bumps into you and you hear a small, “I’m sorry,” before they rush to claim a stool. 

The crowd’s already begun to die out. Most leave while they still have a little money left in their pockets. You duck your head down, catching the eye of the girl who’d bumped into you. She looks young and incredibly skittish. Her eyes keep darting to the tip jar near the bartender. 

She quietly asks for water but the bartender just shakes his head, tugging the jar closer to him. You don’t know why you’re drawn to her, maybe it’s because she looks like one of those sad pound puppies, but you take a seat beside her. 

“Water,” you order, slipping him some change. When he gives it to you, you pass it off to her, spotting the greedy way she eyes it. You know a runaway when you see one, she clearly needs a little help. But Logan’s got enough on his shoulders, you’re not gonna bug him with adding another person to the mix. 

“Thank you,” she gulps it down like she hasn’t drunk anything in days. You feel your stomach twist with empathy. What little cash you have in your wallet, you slip into her bag as you pass by her. Logan will have made enough for it to be spared and it's the least you can do. 

Not everyone is as lucky as you to have someone help them navigate a new life. 

Logan grabs his jacket, wiping blood off from under his nose and heading towards you. You know he’ll want a drink before you go, he always does. Before he can say anything someone’s shouting the name he uses in the cage. “Hey, Wolverine! I want my fucking money back.”

The big man he’d knocked down earlier takes a step towards him. His friend tries to hold him back, but there’s no stopping him. He’s already had his ass kicked once, what makes him think this is going to be any different?

“Not your money anymore, bub.” Logan scoffs and turns back towards you. You just want to leave now. You don’t want to stay for a drink or go get something to eat. You feel the eyes on you again, but when you turn to find them there’s no one there but the girl. 

And she’s not looking at you. Her eyes are wide and staring at something else. “Behind you!” She screeches, and both you and Logan whirl around to find the man barreling towards him with a knife outstretched. 

Logan moves so quickly that you stumble back slightly. He grabs the guy's arm, twisting his wrist until the knife drops to the ground. He shoves him back against the wall, claws out and pinning him there.

“Shit,” you whisper, glancing around as the few patrons of the bar stare in horror at Logan. The people counting his money stop and tuck it back into the cash box. You clench your eyes shut in irritation, he’s not gonna be getting paid tonight, that’s for sure. 

There’s a strange noise behind you, like someone cocking a gun. You turn around slowly, gasping when you see the bartender pointing the barrel of his shotgun at your chest. He’s not aiming it at Logan, he’s aiming it at you. Like he somehow knows that’s the only way to get him to back off. 

It’s not like he was going to kill the guy, besides, he came at him with a knife first. What’s the difference if Logan’s a mutant? He’s defending himself. Why does no one understand that?

“Get out of my bar,” the old man warns lowly, taking a step closer to you. Logan turns around and finally spots what’s going on. 

“Pay me and I’ll be on my way.” You know you’d be able to heal from the shotgun blast, but you don’t exactly want to go through it. 

The old man laughs and shakes his head. “You’re not getting paid, buddy. Get the fuck out of my bar before I put a hole in your little girlfriend.”

Your eyes narrow in disbelief. You debate with yourself for a moment, if this is smart or not. But the guy’s being a prick and you’re sick of people treating mutants like they’re less than nothing. You flick your wrist and the shotgun goes flying out of his hand. 

You glance over at the cashbox and it comes floating towards you, landing easily in your outstretched palm. “Be thankful I’m not blowing a hole in you,” you warn, glaring at the cowering man. You walk forward and he stumbles back and you try not to focus on the sick feeling of satisfaction it brings you. You grab the tip jar and shove it towards the girl at the end of the bar. “Good luck, kid.”

Logan releases the man from the before, taking a step towards you. You feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up and rush towards the exit of the bar. You need to just get the fuck out of this town as quickly as possible, you’re not safe here anymore. 

Logan seems to agree with you. He gets into the truck and doesn’t turn back to the motel. Instead, he turns onto the highway while you keep your eyes peeled on the trees outside your window. There’s someone out there, still following you. 

“Something’s wrong with the suspension,” you glance up from where you’d been working on breaking open the cashbox and frown. Logan’s glaring down at the steering wheel, it seems like he’s struggling to get it to turn properly. 

“What?”

He scoffs and glares at you, “How should I know?” He pulls over to the side of the road, opens his door, and lets in a rush of cool air and snow. You toss the cashbox to the back of the trailer and follow after him. 

He goes to where he’s pulling his motorcycle and you feel like you notice an extra bump under the tarp. “What’s that?” You take a step towards it just as Logan pulls it back. You have to bite back a laugh when you see the girl from last night curled up next to his motorcycle. 

She gives you both guilty looks and slowly sits up. “I’m sorry,” Logan offers her a hand and she gets out of the trailer. He grabs her bag and drops it at her feet. “I didn’t have anywhere else to go.”

“Find a different ride,” he growls, already heading back to the truck. You open your mouth, prepared to argue, but you can’t force her on him. As much as you might want to help her. She’s better off away from the two of you.

“You’re just gonna leave me here?” She snaps at him, a little attitude finally showing through. 

“Yep!” He gets in the truck and you know he wants to drive off immediately but he has to wait for you. You shoot her an apologetic look as you follow after him, slipping into the seat beside him. He starts the engine, driving off slowly, eyes drifting towards the rearview mirror. 

You bite your tongue, trying not to point out how cruel he is leaving her on a snowy highway in the middle of nowhere. He glances over at you, “What?” He snaps. 

You shake your head and shrug. “Nothing.” You’ve barely finished speaking before he’s slamming on his brakes. 

“God dammit,” he mutters, running a hand over the stubble on his jaw. You can’t help the grin on your face, reaching over to open your door. It doesn’t take long for the girl to catch on, scooping up her bag and chasing after you. 

“You’re such a softie,” you tease him. 

“Shut the hell up.”

Rogue is nice, if not a little odd. She claims to be a mutant too but doesn’t want to give specifics on her abilities. You don’t want to push her but you are curious about the gloves she wears. “What kind of name is Wolverine?” She asks, spotting Logan’s tags. 

He glances over at her and smiles slightly, “What kind of a name is Rogue?”

She goes to say something but you throw your arm out, holding her back as you shout, “Logan, watch out!” He tries to hit his brakes in time but the tree’s already coming down. The truck slams into it and it’s like time slows down, only for a moment. 

You can feel the impact of your body against the windshield, the glass dragging along your scalp and skin. It’s like a million razors each slicing into you. And then, you’re flying through the air, head snapping so hard against the ground you can’t see anything. 

You hear something happening around you, a roar that doesn’t sound human echoing through the air. There’s the sound of metal crunching and someone is screaming in the distance but you can’t see. It’s not like a total void of darkness, there’s just nothing. 

You feel the blood slowly leaking down the back of your skull and something lands harshly against your head. You don’t think much time has passed. When your eyes finally open, however, you’re not lying on the pavement. 

The world around you is foreign. It smells like a hospital but it’s not like any you’ve ever seen. X-rays are hanging on the wall and paperwork is scattered on a desk near the bed you’re lying on. 

Your mind is blank for a moment. Slowly turning back on while you process the sudden change of scenery. You don’t even remember closing your eyes, you don’t know when your vision came back to you or how long you’ve been here. 

The terror sets in quickly. You throw the blankets off your legs, staring down at the pajamas you wear in disgust. Someone had changed you. They’d run tests and done X-rays on you and you don’t remember a second of it. 

You rip the needle out of your arm, tossing it to the floor and running towards the door. Your feet slip on the metal floors as you run but you’re afraid to stop. Everything around you looks more and more like a lab. 

Did someone from the bar call some government agency? You’ve heard horror stories from your father about the tests the military has run on mutants. You’re starting to worry that’s what's happening to you. 

But you doubt the military would make it so easy for you to escape. This has to be something else. You’d heard other voices when you’d been lying on the ground. People who had been trying to help. Could that be who took you?

“You caught on quicker than your friend.” You nearly fall flat on your face, flipping around to see who spoke. But no one’s there. You’re completely alone. “I’m just grateful you didn’t choke out one of my associates.” it’s coming from beside you now. 

It’s all around you, the voice floating through the walls until you think he might be in your mind. “Much faster than your friend,” he sounds gleeful and it makes you even more anxious. “I’m a telepath, darling, nothing to fear. If you’d just take that elevator and come up to meet me.”

You’d have to be an idiot to actually listen to the voices in your head. But you don’t see another way out of here. So, reluctantly, you follow the floating voice’s instructions and slip inside the elevator. 

When the door opens up again you don’t have a chance to step inside before someone’s pushing you back. Logan stands in front of you, hands clamped tightly around your shoulders while he looks you over. 

You sink into his arms, hugging him tightly to you. You’d been terrified you were all alone here. It’s more than a relief to see him again. “You’re okay?” He asks, pulling back to look at you one last time. 

You nod, throat too dry to try and form a coherent sentence. You glance over his shoulders brows furrowed at the people awkwardly watching you reunite. There’s a man in a wheelchair smiling at you, “Ah, glad you could make it.” The floating voice, of course. “Logan here was quite worried about you.”

Logan turns to glare at the man and you offer a slight smile. There is something comforting about him. You’re not exactly threatened by an old guy in a wheelchair. The redhead behind him, however, is bugging you. Something about the way she’s looking at Logan doesn’t sit right with you. 

“Welcome to my school for the exceptionally gifted,” something about the way he says that makes you tilt your head in confusion. You don’t know what he means until there’s a puff of smoke behind him and some kid is walking by with their hair on fire like it’s nothing. 

Mutants. It’s an entire school for mutants. You think you could pass out again. 

“It’s the best place we could have ended up, Logan. This is amazing.” You’ve been going back and forth for an hour. He won’t see reason. He keeps saying you need to leave. That you don’t know these people and it could all be one big trap. 

You don’t understand him, why he’s so desperate to get away from people like the both of you.  You’re rejected in every other corner of society. You could have something real here. 

It hits you at once. That’s the problem. He’s not ready for something real. He’s not used to it because he’s never had it before. At least you could pretend at a sense of normalcy living at home. It’s an entirely new concept to him, sticking to one place for so long. 

“We don’t know these people,” he hisses, leaning over the bed to argue with you. You narrow your eyes but your conversation is cut off by a knock on the door. You sigh, walking away from him and swinging the door open. 

Jean is on the other side, a surprised look on her face when she sees you. “Oh, I’m sorry. I was trying to drop these off to Logan.” You glance down at the towels in your hand and give her a strained smile. That’s a flimsy excuse if you’ve ever seen one. “I must have the wrong room.”

You step to the side, opening the door wider so she can see him. He doesn’t even look at her, too busy angrily unmaking the bed. “No, you have the right one.” You hold your hands out expectantly, “I can just take those for you.”

The look on her face is priceless and finally causes a real smile to grow on your lips. She wordlessly hands you the towels, looking disappointed. You don’t know if it's because of what she was trying to do, or because she couldn’t do it. 

Before she leaves you call out a quick, “Tell Scott I said thank you again. Wouldn’t be here without him, after all.” Her shoulders tense and she rushes back down the hall. Whatever little crush or interest she has with Logan is going to need to be dealt with on her own. 

You’ve got enough shit going on without having to worry about her too. You shake your head and slam the door shut, tossing the towels on the desk. Logan sits on the bed, watching you with an odd look. 

“What was that about?”

“She’s into you,” you tell him bluntly, waiting for his reaction. He doesn’t even blink, just glances between the towels and you before shrugging. 

“Not interested.” You don’t want to admit that you feel any relief. There was never any real doubt. But it’s still nice to be reassured. 

You slip into bed beside him, taking his hand and forcing him to meet your gaze. “I know that this isn’t what either of us was expecting, but this is good, Logan. We don’t have to worry about pretending we’re something we’re not. We don’t have to worry about my dad or anyone finding us.”

He doesn’t look entirely convinced. But he lets out a heavy sigh and drags you closer to him. He tucks your head under his chin, placing a brief kiss against your forehead. “If you want to stay, we’ll stay. But I’m not putting on that fucking costume.”

You laugh a little, peering up at him with a grin, “Deal.” 

There’s a place for you here, even if there isn’t in the rest of the world. You can be safe here, you don’t have to worry anymore. You don’t have to fear the eyes on the back of your head because they can’t get you here. 

end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Wolverine/X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

General Taglist: @evasmlp ♡ 

Logan Taglist:  @nonamevenus @smexy-bucky-waifu @wh1sp @peony-always @corvusmorte  

@mrs-ephemeral @wolviesgirl @allilium @insomniachox  ♡ 

Asked for part two: @enchantedbutterflies @strawberrylore @ittoscumdump @enananawoah @wotcherboo

@cali0101 @fluffy-b33z @pcrushinnerd @izbelross @saltwaterburns

@likeficsinthewnd ♡ 

[miley1442111]

dealing with it- chef luca

---------------------

gif from @ wiha-jun

---------------------

summary: you see carmen for the first time in years, things happen, but at least your husband is there for you :)

pairings: chef luca x fem! reader, EX carmen berzatto x reader

warnings: smoking, cursing, reader endorses smoking (it makes sense i promise), toxic relationships, fighting, happy ending, luca is a cutie pie, carm is an ass :(

---------------------

Carmen had been staring at you the whole night. You, standing diligently beside your mother, and Luca. 

When dinner came and you sat beside Luca again, the question begged to leave his mouth, but he decided on waiting and watching. 

“So Y/n,” Sydney turned to you. “I would love to literally pick your brain apart for the inspo of your last cookbook.”

You chuckled. “Well, Luca and I went all around the world on our honeymoon and-”

“What?” Carmen choked on his drink. “S-sorry did I fucking hear that right? Honeymoon?”

Luca sighed deeply, the energy at the table shifting. “Yes Carm, she said ‘honeymoon’.”

Honeymoon. You and Luca were married. Married and he didn’t even know it. Married, and he hadn’t even known that his last chance had been his last chance. 

You were Chef Andrea’s daughter, and you were everyone’s forbidden fruit. You worked with them, trained with them, and Carmen had been so deeply interested in you, that he broke the rules. He went after you, and he didn’t even feel bad about it. You’d started out dating in secret, then slowly warmed your mom up to the idea, and suddenly it was out in the open. Sure you’d had fights and sure, maybe it wasn’t the most healthy relationship ever, but Carmen loved you. He still did. When it fell apart, it was all Carmen’s fault (as usual) and you’d sworn off chefs. 

---------------------

“Fucking hell Bear! I’m asking you to do this one fucking thing for me, and it’s too fucking hard?” You shouted at the top of your lungs. “I love you! I moved to fucking Coppenhagen for you! I moved to fucking New York for you! What is your problem with me taking a job in London?! I can probably get you into the same place-”

“NO! No, I fucking don’t alright? You’re fucking- you’re fucking boring! You never make anything new- you’re so f-fucking obsessed with being the-the-the best at something that you won’t even try to innovate!”

You stood there, in his kitchen and he watched as the tears fell. He took a deep breath and stepped closer, holding your waist in his hands. He tried not to be offended or upset when you went rigid as he touched you, but he felt his heart break. “Baby I-I’m sorry, look, y’know I’m sorry-” 

“You’re a piece of shit Carm. Just because I’m better than you doesn’t mean you get to talk to me like that. We’re not fucking trainees at my mom’s restaurant anymore, alright? I’m fucking better than you and i know it boils your fucking blood. I got this position. All on my own,” you spat. “You are the lowest of the low Carm. I swear to fucking god, if I ever date another chef again, kill me.”

And with that, you walked out. Out of his apartment and out of his life. 

---------------------

“W-wait so-s-, you two got married? Since when?” Carmen laughed, but it was wrong. It was forced and haunted, strange.  

“Since the 14th of July last year,” Luca smiled and you pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“Congratulations guys,” Sydney smiled. “Carm, say congratulations,” she whispered and Carm nodded furiously.

“Yeah! Yeah- congratulations to the liar and her shitty douchebag of a husband!” He cheered, gathering the attention of the other tables. 

“Stop making a fucking scene Carm,” your voice cut through the ringing in his ears. “This isn’t about you. This is about my mom, and what this restaurant meant to people. Stop. Being. An. Asshole.”

He felt like he’d been effectively bitch slapped, and he quietened down, but not before kicking Luca under the table. 

They’d both been after you, back in the day. And you’d picked Carm at first, and realised your mistake. When you met Luca in London, you weren’t going to mess it up again. 3 years later, you were a year married, and a lot happier. Too bad Carmen had to make everything about himself, again.

He went out to get some ‘air’ a little while later, and you followed him. 

---------------------

“So…” you sighed, standing beside him. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he sighed. He watched as you took a cigarette out and lit it, then offered one to him. He shook his head. 

“You quit?” You asked, blowing the smoke away from him. He nodded. “You should start again.”

He looked at you in confusion. “What?”

“You shouldn’t stop, you’re fucking crazy when you don’t smoke,” you chuckled, though everything you said was true. He’d tried to give it up for a month about 4 months into your relationship and it was the most stressful month of your life. You sighed as you thought about it. Every time he was rude to someone, you apologised for him. Every time he fucked something up, you made it up for him. Every time he did something stupid, you made it smart somehow. It was fucked up how much he relied on you, when you thought about it in hindsight. “Everyone will thank you.”

He laughed. “I guess that was a shitty month, huh?”

“One of the worst of my life,” you admitted. 

There was a moment of silence. 

“I miss it,” He admitted. 

“Smoking? You can have the rest of this pack-”

“Us.”

You sighed. “You were doing so well,” you joked. “Just don’t bring it up Carm, we don’t need to dig up the past.”

“I want to,” he pleaded. 

“I don’t,” you scoffed. “There’s nothing for us to talk about, nothing about us worked, nothing about us was ok, or normal, or happy, or-”

“Does he make you happy?” Carmen asked, venom in his tone. “Does he make you feel fuckin’-fuckin’ butterflies? Does he fuck you like I did? D-does he even see you the way I did? Does he make you laugh?”

“He doesn’t make me cry,” you smiled softly, thinking of Luca and how much you truly loved him. “He doesn’t make me question our relationship everyday. He doesn’t make me feel untalented and undeserving. He doesn’t make me feel used. He met me in London when I was crushed after our break-up, and he healed something he didn’t break in me, alright? He made me feel loved for the first time in a long time. My mom fucking loves him, a lot more than she liked you. He let me take everything at my own pace, and he never pushed me into something I wasn’t ready for. He wasn’t afraid to show his love for me to anyone! He didn’t make me question if we were even dating, ever! And the best part is, he fucking married me Carm, in this gorgeous ceremony where he cried while I came down the aisle and he cried during his vows. Do you want to know what his vows were? Ask him when we get inside, because he got his and mine fucking tattooed on his arm!” You were welling up at this stage. “He stood there with me, through thick and fucking thin, he made me feel loved when I felt unlovable, Carmen. And yes he gives me butterflies, yes he fucks me better than you ever did, and he sees me for who I am. So yes, he makes me very fucking happy Carmen.”

Carmen stood there for a moment, then nodded. “I still love you, you know that, right?”

You scoffed, stamping out your cigarette. “You might want to get over that,” and you turned away, and walked back into the dinner. The rest of the dinner was quick, and you skipped the invite to Sydney’s to retire to your hotel room. You sat on the bed, makeup wipes in hand as you tried to wash the night off of you. 

“Hey darling,” Luca’s soft voice cut through the thoughts clouding your mind. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You smiled as he wrapped you up in a bear hug from behind, he was so perfect, so kind, so Luca. “Sure.”

“I heard a little bit of what you said to Carmy outside.”

You took a deep breath. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he sighed. “Before tonight, I was really fucking scared that when you found Carmy he’d somehow convince you I was a piece of shit and he’d sink his fucking claws into you again.”

You pressed a kiss to his arm and nodded. “He’s fucking…”

“He’s the worst,” he finished for you. “And I’m sorry about what he said tonight. He should’ve had the fucking manners to at least let us get to the third course before he started being a piece of shit.”

You both laughed, and you felt all the tension you held in slowly dissipate. “It was so delicious.”

“It was fucking amazing,” he pressed a kiss to your cheek. “You mum really did something special there.”

“At least we’ll see her more in London,” you shrugged. “I really loved that place.”

“So did I,” He sighed against your neck. “Remember training there? God, you were so fucking cute in your chef’s hat-”

“Hats make me look stupid!” You argued, but laughed regardless. You flung his arms off of you, and a wrestling match ensued, one that ended with him under you. You pressed a soft kiss to his lips, then he deepened it, his hands sneaking up your thighs and around your head. 

“You look good in anything,” he whispered. “But my favourite thing you ever wore was your wedding dress.”

When you pulled away from his lips you saw the starry-eyed smile and sincere look on his face, and you knew you made the right choice. 

Luca was your everything. Carmen was nothing now, and he had to live with that.

---------------------

the bear masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games :)

[makeupbychio]

divorce? hell nah // logan howlett x fem!mutant!reader

Summary: You’d been fighting a lot with your husband Logan lately over pointless stuff, so Laura is worried about the future of her parent’s relationship. So are you.

Warnings: stupid fights, cursing, angst, reader dealing with depression, Logan being the best daddy and husband. Mentions of anxiety, family and work drama. Laura being your daughter so found family. Happy ending, mentions of smut.

Words: 2.5k.

A/N: Once again, a reminder that english is not my first language so I’m sorry if there is a mistake. This takes place in the world of Logan (2017) but everyone’s fine of course, let’s pretend that no one is dy1ng and you adopted Laura. I had a dream about this so enjoy, I wrote it so fast before I forgot it. Love y’all! <3 ALSO, you can read this with my previous Logan fic TRAINING SEASON, this is them in the future.

italics = past.

— — —

“Logan we need to stop fighting like this over stupid shit” you exhaled tired of this. Lately you've been fighting a lot with Logan, so frequent that it feels weird to you. Because not even when you were younger you remember fighting so much, and 80% of the time it was over meaningless stuff. 

The day was over, so both of you were doing your night routine to go to bed. The nostalgia of a sunday night is all over the air. Logan just joined you after putting Laura to sleep, he closed the door of your shared room. You’ve been trying to get up from the bed but the day was really  exhausting mentally for you.

Logan wanted to add that the last fight was you that started it but he held himself to make it worse because it would not add anything mentioning that right now. It was already in the past. “Yeah, I agree.” He just nods and stands far away from you with his hands resting on his hips, he’s looking at the floor thinking for a solution.

You are aware you are not at your best moment, you are dealing with so much lately. You are all the time worried about your family drama, then there are so many things changing at work that are stressing you out too. Also, of course the daily worries that include having a family. 

Logan is aware of this tough moment you are going through and he’s always there to support you, to have a shoulder to cry on, all ears for you so you don’t have to hold anything in your mind. That’s also what you did when he’s dealing with shitty things. 

But lately, god, everything seems to get on your nerves for the both of you. Sometimes the clothes are all spread on the floor, or when you arrived late from work and there is nothing on the fridge left to eat, or when Logan tries to defend Laura for something that really needs a punishment, etc. And it doesn’t help when you had a shitty day at work or keep receiving bad news from your family, so sometimes you just explode and Logan is also mad or had a shitty day so that’s when the fights start. 

“We really need to stop, Laura's been asking if we are okay” you told him with tears in your eyes. “When you went for a run in the morning, she came here to our room and laid next to me in bed so we had breakfast together and she looked under the weather, like she was not having a good time even when we had sweet treats and stuff…” you started to tell him about what happened earlier. “So I asked her if everything was alright and she looked right into my eyes and with a sad face she asked me if we were going to divorce- and- I told you Lo it was the most heartbreaking thing she could possibly ask me and…” you started to sob by remembering that conversation. 

Logan is now sitting next to you at the end of the bed. Holding your hand close to him, all of his attention to you. “And I was so shocked so I put my hands on her face holding her to really pay attention to what I was about to say…” you continued. 

“No, baby. Why are you asking that? Your dad and I love each other so much, and both of us love you so so so so much. We are not getting divorced” you held her face trying your best not to cry in front of her, the thought of being apart from the little family you had with Logan made you sad. 

“I’m asking because last night I heard you guys fighting, I mean you were raising your voices and then dad closed the door really hard. And it’s not the first time” Laura confessed and you felt bad that she had to listen to you argue. “Last week when I was outside playing with Franky I also heard both of you yelling”. 

“I’m sorry, baby. You should not have witnessed that, don’t worry. With your dad we’re okay” you caressed her hair to give her some calm to her mind.

”My friend Dani told me that it happened the same to their parents that are divorced now. So I’m scared that one day dad will leave us just like Dani’s dad” Laura told you with tears in her eyes just at the thought of her dad leaving her and her mom. 

That’s when your heart broke into a million pieces. You kept telling her not to worry, that you were having pointless arguments. You didn’t want to tell her about your problems at work and with your family because she’s a little girl, she should be worried about school and having fun as a kid and not about divorce and her dad leaving. 

So once you noticed she calmed down, you stayed in bed the whole morning and watched a movie together with Franky on Laura’s lap. The dog she adopted never leaves her side especially if he senses that she’s sad. 

And also you made up your mind that things needed to change, to stop these stupid fights with your husband. 

You told Logan about what happened in the morning when he left for his daily workout. Not wanting to tell him during the day because Laura is so concentrated on every attitude of both of you. That’s why you are telling him now that she went to sleep. Logan sighs like never before, like he was holding his breath the whole time you were talking, but never letting go of your hands together. “I know our daughter is smart and so empathetic just like you, so I get why she’s worried. I had to admit that I closed the door so hard, that’s on me. We need to stop fighting over bullshit, babe. We need to fix this, but I’m not leaving you guys”. Logan let go of your hand to stand in front of you squatting down holding your knees, “I’ll NEVER leave you, you hear me? We had been through so much worse, remember? And we made it because I fucking love you and I know you love me”. Logan reassured you too in case the same thought that Laura has is placed in your mind too.

You caressed his cheek and looked into those beautiful eyes of his, “I love our family, Logan. Like you said we made it through so much worse, I’m sorry I’ve been irritated lately. That’s on me, I’m going to do my best” tears flowing down your face. Logan quickly wiped them off. 

“Babe, I’m right here. I don’t know why but when you’re in a dark time you always felt free to cry and told me about it but this time it feels like you’re holding all of this sadness to bury it deep down. What 's going on? What changed?” Logan asked with curiosity because you’ve been together for years. 

“I don’t know, Lo. Maybe the hormones, maybe I don’t want to be a burden for you guys. Like I have to be strong for Laura, she’s my number one priority right now and she had an awful life before she found us so I don’t want to give her all of my shit, she’s a kid. Like I said, she should be worried about school and having the childhood she deserves” you poured your heart out to your husband. 

“My love you’ll never be a burden for me, you hear me? I need you to say it so that you understand. Besides, Laura needs to see us sad too, we can’t lie to her that life is all the time just joy. I’m not saying to tell her all of our problems, but that is valid if we feel some kind of way, we would be faking if we were smiling or just okay all the time”. Logan, the angry wolverine you used to know was gone the moment he met you back then in Charles’s mansion. Anger stopped being his only emotion, you made him feel in that same moment that he was always going to be able to show his real emotions and stopped playing this character of the angry and intimidating man. 

“I understand, Lo”. You finally gave him a smile. It is not fair for you to struggle alone and let go of this stress by fighting. You really need to start saying what’s going on, and Logan is always going to be there for it. Just by thinking of the huge difference of the fights you used to have in the past, a small laugh escaped your mouth. Logan looks at you surprised but happy that you got something off your chest. 

“What’s on your mind now, sugar?” Logan asked curiously. 

“I just remember the things we used to fight when we started dating, I mean we were younger and sometimes really stupid. And also the fights we used to have for mistakes we made on missions. We still fight when the other is on the field out there in danger, the worry about losing the other one always starts an argument…” you answered. 

“Yeah but those always ended up with a make out session…” Logan gave you a flirty grin, his dirty mind already enjoying the memories. To be honest, after a mission with or without an argument it always ends with both of you giving each other so much pleasure and comfort for being safe and sound. 

“ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?! THAT WAS WAY TO DANGEROUS!!” Logan losing his mind because you almost got killed out there. 

“I HAD TO DO IT, I COULDN’T LEAVE THEM RIGHT THERE!!” you explained yourself why you came back to the field and risked your life. “IF I DIDN’T HELP THEM, NOBODY’S WAS GOING TO!”. 

God, your empathy is one of Logan’s favorite things about you, but more than once it has given him almost a heart attack. 

“NOT ALL THE TIMES WE CAN SAVE THEM ALL, I NEED YOU TO UNDERSTAND THAT. I CAN’T LOSE YOU, PRINCESS” Logan holding your shoulders steady.

Once you were back at the mansion, and in the privacy of your shared room, Logan wanted to keep talking about the risk you made, but you just wanted to take a shower to take off all of the work done. “Honey, I’m right here in one piece. I’m fine” you brushed his hair with your fingers to calm him down. Trying to get a smile from him. 

“I insist, I can’t lose you. You’ll be freaking out too if it was me in your position” Logan raised his brow knowing you’ll be worried too about him. 

“I know, I’ll be way worse hysterical” you admitted, but at the same time just trying to calm him down. Right now both of you need to relax after a hard mission. You kept brushing his hair until he stopped talking and just leaned into your touch. Both of you ended up taking a bath together and stayed all afternoon in the sheets making love. Other times the fights after missions didn’t seem to stop and led to angry sex. 

“Now that you said that, it reminds me of Laura explaining to me something she realized when she heard us fighting last night and…” you started laughing but also felt guilty.

“I’m sorry, honey. We didn’t mean to raise our voices, we didn’t mean for you to hear us but sometimes with your dad we had our differences. But everything is fine now, we talked about it and it’s okay now” you didn’t lie. One thing you and Logan hate is to go to bed angry, it’s also true that you didn’t want Laura to hear it.

“Yeah, I know you were fighting because it wasn’t the happy screams you and dad make at night sometimes”. Laura said with the innocent intention a kid has. You almost choked on your cup of tea.

You don’t know if it was because of her powers that she heard the happy screams she’s talking about, because the house is huge and her room is not that close to your shared room. And since she arrived, every time you have sex with Logan both of you are really aware that there is someone else in the house so you keep your voice low and always lock the door. You don’t want to traumatize your daughter.

Not like before having kids, or when Laura is staying the night somewhere else, that Logan asks you to be loud so the neighbors can hear his name.

“Are you fucking kidding me she said that?” Logan laughing at your face, red like a tomato. 

“Don’t laugh at that, Lo! It was so embarrassing to explain to her that it was a conversation for another day…” you hid your face in your palms, Logan still teasing you about your sudden shyness. “So I told her that her daddy was going to explain someday when she was older why adults make those happy screams” now you are teasing him because his face almost dropped. Already anxious about how he’s going to explain to his daughter how babies come to the world and all that stuff. 

“Nope, because she’s never going to grow up. She'll always be our little girl” he tried to convince himself about that. You gave him a pat on his back that he can handle that. 

“Our little girl is almost 12, babe. So you’ll have to have THAT talk sooner that you think with her. But don’t worry I’m sure you’re going to nail that because you are the best daddy”. You assured him.

God, you can picture in your mind the reaction of Logan when teenager Laura will bring her first partner. You’ll need to be there for him because your daughter is about to experience a lot of things and your husband will need your help. 

“Don’t be a brat with me please, sweetheart I’m begging you” Logan easily put you on his lap, brushing your hair out of your face. “What if instead of giving me more anxiety you help me get rid of that anxiety we’ve been dealing with lately?” he kissed your neck, his breath so warm against your skin. 

“What do you suggest, big boy?” his hand now traveling down your spine and you hold his face close to your chest, Logan leaving kisses on top of your clothed breasts. God, you miss this, you miss him being this closer. 

“Maybe a bath or I can fuck you like this right now but we have to be really careful with the noises, especially you doll. I know you like to scream my name and how good I make you feel” Logan already taking his shirt off to whatever option you are down to. You smacked his toned chest at the insinuation, pulling him closer to kiss you with the eagerness you missed so much. He lifted you from your spot heading to take that bath, it was going to be a long night and tomorrow morning you both need to be up early to drop Laura off at school.

[atlabeth]

time’s blur - ialwbty au

series masterlist

pairing: luke castellan x daughter of poseidon!reader but this primarily features percy jackson & sister!reader

summary: somehow, someway, you come back.

a/n: wow it has been a while hasn't it!! 148 days to be exact!! im always thinking about these two in the corner of my mind and ive been wanting to write this au since i got an ask about it, originally i was going to do it all as a big long one shot but i just want to get something out lol. and this will give me more freedom to do wte i want with this au instead of just having one big one shot and leaving it. anyways enjoy there is actually some fluff for once but still some emotional damage and there is more to come!! also reader is 19 and percy is 15

wc: 3.5k

warning(s): hurricane dies but she has come back!! told through percy's pov. angst, hurt/comfort, signature percy jackson guilt, but some fluffy sibling moments<3

Percy doesn’t end up in the infirmary at 2:29 in the morning out of instinct, foresight, or any kind of divine ‘chosen one’ intervention. 

He ends up in the infirmary at 2:29 in the morning because some Apollo kid was hooking up with an Ares kid on the beach, and they found you. 

They found you, not Percy. He didn’t even have a clue until he woke up to Chiron in his cabin.

Percy had had his fair share of rude awakenings over the years, usually because of horrific demigod prophetic dreams, but the expression on Chiron’s face immediately alerted Percy that something was wrong, even through his groggy haze. 

“Chiron?” he rasps, and he sits up as he rubs the sleep out of his eyes. He has to make sure he’s not still dreaming. 

“I’m sorry to wake you, Percy,” he says. “But I need you to come with me.” 

“What’s wrong?” he asks. “Is everyone okay? Is camp okay? Is there an invasion?” 

“Nothing so ghastly,” Chiron says. Though his tone is a bit lighter, it still doesn’t ease Percy’s concerns. “But it does concern you.” 

“Great,” Percy mumbles, and he pulls himself out of bed. Normally he would have the foresight to change, but a part of him is still worried that Christmas has come early and Kronos has already invaded the city. 

So he follows Chiron—with all the sneaking around he’s done since getting to camp, it’s strange to be out this late and not have to worry about being eaten alive—clad in flannel pajama pants, a Yankee’s tee, and Converse he didn’t get the chance to fully lace up. 

“You’d tell me if something was wrong,” Percy says, glancing up at him. “Right?” 

“Of course,” he nods. “I wouldn’t classify this as something going wrong. Just… rather shocking.” 

“Great,” he repeats. “Are you going to tell me?” 

Chiron is silent for a moment, and Percy frowns. “Now I’m really worried.” 

“I suppose it’s best to rip the bandage off,” Chiron says. He stops right outside the Big House and lets out a sigh. “An hour ago, a girl was found on the beach. She looked as if she’d been washed ashore.” 

Percy’s frown deepens. “What? Gods— is she okay?” 

“Yes,” Chiron says. “I checked her over for injuries, but she only had some minor bruises. No water in her lungs, somehow.” 

“That’s crazy,” he says. “How could someone even wash up here? Even with demigods— don’t we have protections against that?” 

“All of this makes me believe there was some… divine intervention,” Chiron says slowly. “Especially with who she is.” 

Percy crosses his arms. “You’re making this sound like a huge deal. Who is she?”

“Percy,” Chiron says, soft but firm, “it’s your sister. Somehow, she’s come back to life.” 

And for a second, all he can do is stare. 

“What?” 

“I could never forget her face,” he says. “Or the presence of a child of Poseidon.” 

Percy shakes his head. “No, Chiron— if this is a joke, it’s not funny.” He huffs a mirthless laugh and looks down at his hands. “And if this is a shitty dream, then it’s really shitty.” 

“Perseus, this is real,” he states. 

He’s still shaking his head. “How can it be real? She’s dead— she’s been dead for years.”

“I don’t know,” he admits. “Mr. D has already gone back to Olympus to figure it out. But if I had to guess, your father decided to meddle.”

He wants to call it a lie. Honestly, he wants to punch Chiron for getting his hopes up about something like this. But deep down, Percy knows he’s telling the truth. 

“Can I see her?” he asks. “Is— is she okay? Does she know who she is?”

“In time,” Chiron says. “I cannot be sure, but it doesn’t look like she remembers anything from her life.” 

Percy shakes his head again. It doesn’t feel real. He’s imagined what it would feel like to meet you since the moment Luke told him about you, but he knew it could never happen. 

But now, all that stands between Percy and his sister is a few doors. 

“I want to see her,” he says.

“Of course,” Chiron nods. “I just need to make sure it won’t mess with her further. This isn’t like Thalia coming back with the fleece—though I have suspicions, I can’t be sure how this happened. It could be a very delicate matter.” 

“As long as it doesn’t hurt her more.” 

Chiron nods again and he opens the door to the Big House. He follows him up to his office door, then stops when Chiron gestures at the couch. 

“I just need to discuss a few more things with her.” 

Percy nods wordlessly and sits down, then Chiron disappears into his office. 

A million things are running through Percy’s mind, namely guilt. 

Shouldn’t he have been the one to find you? 

Maybe it doesn’t make sense, but it’s you. 

You’re his sister. He’s always had a connection to you, even when you were gone—gods, the night after he found out you existed you appeared in his dreams. Percy’s spent almost every moment since he found out about you wishing you were still here, that he could meet you, and when it finally does happen—somehow, because he still doesn’t understand what the fuck went on for this to happen—he’s not even the one to find you? He’s just asleep like every other night?

He huffs a sigh as he hunches over, his forearms on his knees. His leg bounces up and down at a rapid pace, moving his entire body with it, but this is one time he can’t lay his ADHD to rest. He’s more surprised he isn’t up pacing the entire room for the hundredth time. 

If Percy feels like this, he can’t even imagine how you must feel. To come back for seemingly no reason with no memories, after four years in Elysium. 

Luke said you’d been killed by a monster. You were buried like any other person. 

You were gone.

But you just… came back.  

He lets out another harried sigh and falls back against the couch. He’s exhausted, but there’s no chance of him being able to go back to sleep. Not with you around. 

Suddenly, the door opens, and Percy instantly darts up from his seat. You walk out with Chiron and it’s almost surreal.

You look like all the pictures, all his dreams, just older—more mature. He wants to cry and scream and hug you all at once. 

Your eyes widen slightly, and you glance at Chiron for a moment before you focus back on Percy.

“Uh— sorry,” he says, wincing a bit. He doesn’t know how to act around you, not when he knows you but you don’t know him. “I waited for you. I thought it would be good to have someone on the other side.” 

“That’s really nice,” you murmur. “I… I see why. Word on the street is that you’re my brother.” 

Percy nods way too many times. “Yeah. Uh— yeah. We’re both children of—” 

He pauses, his gaze moving past you to Chiron. He has to have explained all this to you, right? 

“Poseidon,” you finish, and you let out a slightly shaky laugh. “Chiron laid out all the basics.” 

“This has all got to be really confusing,” he says. “I remember how lost I was when I first got to camp, and I didn’t even…” 

“Die?” you ask wryly. He nods again. He really can’t finish any sentence around you—he’s so worried of saying the wrong thing and accidentally hurting you. Percy doesn’t know how any of this works.

“It’s strange,” you admit. “I… I lived this whole life before this, and I don’t even remember any of it.”

Percy’s heart clenches painfully. He doesn’t know how he’s going to explain everything to you when you start remembering. 

When you start remembering Luke. 

“Really?” he asks. “There’s nothing?”

You shake your head. “I have my name, but that’s all. And…”

Percy frowns. “What?”

You pause for a moment before you shake your head again. “Nothing. This is just…”

“Weird?” 

You nod with a slight laugh. “Yeah. To say the least.”

“If it makes you feel better, you’re not the first person to come back to life,” Percy says. “Uh, a girl named Thalia used to be a tree before she was turned back into a human.”

You frown. “Wow.”

“We can get to all of that some other day,” Chiron thankfully interrupts. “Percy, will you take her back to your cabin?”

“You’re sure we won’t get eaten by the harpies?” Percy asks. “Aello is out for my blood.”

“I promise,” Chiron says. He glances at you, your frown noticeably deeper, and he looks back at Percy. “Perhaps we should, ah, hold off on this sort of discussion. Until tomorrow, at least.”

“Of course,” Percy says. “Sorry. You must be exhausted.” 

“A little,” you admit. “Apparently coming back to life takes it out of you.” 

“Come back here first thing in the morning,” Chiron says. “We have… quite a bit to talk about.” 

“That’s an understatement,” you murmur. 

Percy smiles a bit, and he gestures with his head for you to follow him. You do, and Chiron goes back into his office. He nabs a bag of ambrosia squares from an empty bedside as the two of you go through the infirmary just to be safe, and when he glances back at you he sees you frowning. 

“Are you okay?” he asks. “Does anything hurt?” 

“You’re a Yankees fan?” you say instead. 

Percy blinks, then he realizes you’re looking at his shirt. “Uh— yeah.” He chuckles. “I’m from New York, and my mom loves them, so…” he tugs at his shirt. “I know you like the Red Sox. Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you say. “We can’t all be perfect.” 

Percy can’t help but smile. You died and came back to life, and you remember nothing but your name and your love for the Boston Red Sox. 

“That means you keep up with baseball, right?” 

“When I can,” he says. “We don’t really have technology out here.” 

“Have the Red Sox won a world series since I’ve been gone?” 

“They won last year, actually.”

Your eyes widen and you instantly grin. “Really?”

He nods. “They beat the Cardinals.”

“That— that’s huge!” you exclaim. “Oh my god, they broke the curse and I didn’t get to see it? This is the worst thing that’s ever happened to me!”

“You know you died, right?”

“And look how well that worked out for me.” You shake your head. “I need to go to the library or something and find some footage.”

“As much as I would love to do that,” Percy says, “we have a few other things we have to focus on.”

You huff and shake your head. “Fine. But as soon as we figure all this out, I’m figuring out some way to see those games.” 

Percy chuckles. “I don’t think anyone’ll deny you that.” 

“Good.” 

Silence settles over the two of you as you walk back to the Poseidon cabin, and Percy just feels awkward. 

He always thought about what he would say to you if he finally got to see you again, and now you’re alive somehow and right next to him and he has no idea what to do. 

“You’re sure you’re not hurt?” Percy finally decides on. “Chiron said you just washed up on shore.” 

“I feel surprisingly okay,” you say. “All I remember is waking up at the bottom of the lake. I thought I was going to drown, so I kicked my way up, and then got to shore.” You shake your head. “Somehow, I didn’t drown. My clothes weren’t even wet. I’ve got to be the luckiest person out there.” 

“You’re a child of Poseidon,” he says. “We can’t breathe underwater so we can’t drown, and our clothes don’t get wet unless we want them to.” 

“Like I said,” you incline your head, “luckiest person out there.” 

“I just don’t get why you’re back,” Percy says. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you are. I just don’t understand how, or why— or why now.” 

You open your mouth to say something, but you’re not able to get any words out before a yawn interrupts it. 

“Maybe that’s a tomorrow problem,” you say. 

“I think you’re right,” Percy says. He opens the door to the camp store and you follow him inside, but you frown. 

“What is this?” 

“The camp store,” he says. “You don’t really have anything, so I wanted to get you some things.” 

You just stare as he starts taking things. “You’re just… stealing?” 

“Just a couple toiletries and some clothing,” he says. “They won’t miss it.” He stashes it all in a Camp Halfblood tote bag and holds it out to you, and though you’re a bit hesitant, you still take it. 

“Thanks,” you say. “We won’t get in trouble?” 

“I think everyone will cut you some slack for a while,” Percy says. “A guy did this for me my first day and it helps—makes you feel more at home.” 

You hum, and this time you open the door for Percy. “Nice guy.” 

Percy swallows the sudden lump in his throat, trying to ignore the chill that trickles down his spine as he realizes the implications of his words. 

“Yeah,” Percy mutters. “He was.” 

Eventually, the two of you get back to the Poseidon cabin. He opens the door for you and you slowly walk inside. 

Again, it’s strange that you’re here. It’s like if a piece of his history textbook suddenly came to life and started walking around—he’s heard so much about you, imagined what he thought would be an impossible meeting so many times, but now that it’s actually happening he doesn’t know what to do. 

And it hits even more as you walk over to a picture of yourself hanging on the wall, surrounded by a myriad of others. 

It’s one of many of you and Luke, him holding you close with an arm slung around your shoulder as you beam at the camera with the brightest smile imaginable. Before Luke got his scar, before you died, before he went off the deep end. 

“I put a couple of your pictures up,” Percy rushes to explain, his throat feeling scratchy, “and a few of your old things. As— as a way to remember you.”

“I love it,” you say, and the tension dissolves in his shoulders when he sees your smile. It really is so much brighter in person. “I— I can’t believe I don’t remember any of this.”

“We’ll figure out a way to get it back,” Percy says. “I promise.” 

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” you say idly as you continue to take all the pictures in. He can’t imagine what it must feel like to see all these memories of a past life you have no recollection of. 

“I don’t,” he says. “We’re gonna figure it out.”

You’re silent for a while as you keep looking at them. Then you take one of the pictures off the wall, the one of you and Luke at a baseball game. 

“Luke,” you murmur, as if you don’t realize you’re saying it out loud. You blink, then you turn to Percy. “His name is Luke, isn’t it?”

He nods, almost in disbelief. You don’t remember a damn thing about your old life but you know Luke’s name.

How is Percy supposed to tell you what he did? 

You laugh softly as you trail your nail over the edge. “We must’ve been pretty close if I got him to go to a Red Sox game.” You look over at Percy. “Does he go here too?”

After a moment, Percy shakes his head. “He— uh, he used to.”

“Makes sense,” you murmur, and you put the picture back on the wall. “I got the easy way out. Everyone else had to deal with the fallout.”

Percy frowns. “You were killed by a monster. I don’t think anyone considers that the easy way out.” 

“It kinda was,” you say with a shrug. “I— I don’t remember much about it, but Chiron said I was in Elysium. There aren’t any monsters down there, and there certainly aren’t any responsibilities.”

“Well,” Percy sits down on his bed, “I’m glad you’re here. You don’t know how many times I’ve imagined meeting you.” 

You chuckle. “I didn’t know I was so popular.” 

“I’m serious,” he says. “Poseidon is one of the Big Three, and they made an oath not to have kids. I was the only Big Three kid in general when I got to camp—when I found out about you, all I could think about was how badly I wanted to have a sister to talk about all of this with.” 

Your eyes soften, and you lean against his bed frame. “I’m sorry.” 

“What are you sorry about?” 

“I— I don’t know,” you say with a slight laugh. “I just feel bad that I couldn’t be there for you.” 

“You’re already doing a pretty good job at being a big sister,” Percy says wryly. 

“Thanks,” you say. “You’re doing a pretty good job at being a younger brother.” 

Percy laughs and smiles, and you smile too. He’s beginning to understand what Luke always said, about your presence embodying warmth. He’s only been around you for a few minutes and he already feels better. 

“I’ve never had a brother before this,” you say. “So there might be a couple speed bumps.” 

“We’ll get through them together,” Percy says. “Besides, I… I kind of always considered you my sister. Ever since I found out about you, even though you were…” 

“Dead?” you guess, and he winces. You chuckle a bit. “It’s still weird for me, too. Can’t imagine what it must be like for all of you.” 

“Weird,” he says without really thinking. “Really weird. But I’m thankful that you’re back.” 

You smile. “So am I, Percy.” 

You let out another yawn, and you sit down on the bed across from him. “God, what time is it?” 

Percy glances at the clock in the corner. “3:34.” 

You whistle. “I really chose a great time to come back, huh?” 

He chuckles, and he kicks off his shoes as gets up to turn the lights off. “I think some sleep would do us both some good.” 

You nod and do the same. As you lay back, one hand behind your head, you continue to look around the cabin. 

“Are these your band posters?” 

He shakes his head as he sits back down. “They’re yours, actually, but you’ve got good taste. I love Pearl Jam.” 

“I used to have good taste, you mean,” you say wryly. 

“Hey,” he says. “I meant what I told you. We’re gonna get your memories back.” 

“How are you so sure?” 

“I’ve done a lot of impossible things,” Percy says. “And so have you, from what I’ve heard. It’s kind of the Poseidon kid way, honestly.” 

“You’ll have to teach me some things, then.” 

“And when you get your memory back, you’ll have to do the same,” he says. 

You smile and nod. “Deal.” 

Percy smiles too, and he lays down. “You really should try and get some sleep. Chiron wasn’t joking when he said we have a lot to talk about.” He huffs a slight laugh. “Whatever the reason is for you coming back, I guarantee there’s gonna be some people upstairs that are mad about it.” 

Your eyebrows rise. “Upstairs?” 

“Olympus,” he says. “The gods don’t really like things happening out of their control.” 

You hum, and for a moment there’s nothing but silence and the sound of both your breathing. It’s a little strange having someone else here other than Tyson, but he’s thankful for it. 

“What’s gonna happen to me?” you ask. There’s an edge of fear in your voice, and Percy frowns. 

“Nothing.” 

“Don’t lie.” 

“Nothing is going to happen,” he repeats. “I’m not going to let anything happen. The gods have already messed with your life enough—they don’t get to do it again.” 

Percy half-expects to hear the sound of thunder echoing across camp, but the silence continues. Maybe Zeus isn’t listening in on him for once, or maybe he just expects the disrespect at this point. 

“I really am the luckiest person,” you say. “I’ve got someone like you looking out for me.” 

“You were looking out for me when you were gone,” he says. “You might not remember, but I could feel it. So I’m just repaying the favor.” 

Again, silence. It’s temporarily interrupted by the sound of sheets shifting, then you speak. 

“I’m really glad I got to meet you, Percy,” you murmur. 

He can’t help but smile, and he tries to ignore the tears beginning to spring in his eyes. He has no idea why you’re back—no idea what this could mean. Maybe your dad did bring you back, maybe it’s a bizarre case like Thalia, maybe you play a part in something that they don’t even know about yet and it's nothing but bad news.

But for once in his life, Percy’s not going to question it. 

You’re alive and you’re here. 

For now, that’s all he needs. 

“Me too,” he whispers.

[gh0stsp1d3r]

Please do a part 3 to teenagers (i love it so much) where Miguel catches them making out (obviously no NSFW) amd freaks out

Might as well make this a series atp😂

My Spanish might be a lil shitty because I don’t remember junk from Spanish class 😭 please correct me if anything’s wrong

𝐓𝐞𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬... 𝐏𝐭 𝟑

Hobie knocked on your door, your dad was working late and hopefully wouldn’t be back for a while.

You opened it, and smiled widely, hugging him as he laughed. He patted your back.

“Someone’s excited to see me.” He said.

“Yeah, missed you.”

You both hadn’t seen each other for a while, both too busy.

“Missed you too.” He gave you a quick peck, and you guided him to your bed.

You both talked for a while, his head in your lap while you played with his hair.

Then he sat up, and you made yourself comfortable.

You both made out for a while too, smiling and talking a little bit inbetween kisses.

Then the door opened. Miguel gasped and dropped whatever he was holding.

“Papá! No esperaba que estuvieras en casa-“ you immediately pulled away from Hobie and pushed him away a bit.

(Dad! I didn’t expect you to be home-)

“Esto es lo que andas haciendo no estoy ?”

(Is this what you do when I’m not home?)

“Papá I swear-“

“‘Ello, don’t know quite what you’re saying, but uh… I’d ‘priecate it if you spoke in English…”

Miguel narrowed his eyes at Hobie.

“Are you being ser- is he being serious?”

“Yeah, being pretty serious. I haven’t a scooby doo of anything you sa-�� He said, your dad just gave him a blank stare.

“It means he doesn’t have a clue- Dad-“

“Por qué lo quieres?”

(Why do you love him?)

“I… Muchas razones.”

(Many reasons.)

“I got that one.. Muchas means a lot.” Hobie smiled proudly to himself, his pronunciation making you snicker.

“He can’t even speak Spanish-“

“I’m trying. And believe it or not I love your daughter. And I know you don’t think I’m good enough for her, cause I ain’t. She’s too good for me. But I’m trying my best for her, and I’m trying to be the best I can.” He said.

Miguel sighed again.

“You’re damn right she’s too good for you…” he mumbled under his breath.

“Alright. Just.. keep the door open, please? And don’t do… whatever you were doing while I’m here please.”

“We won’t.” You said, smiling.

“Sorry Miguel!” Hobie yelled as he left.

“Mr. O’Hara!” He corrected from the living room.

You looked at Hobie, and you both broke out into laughter.

“Holy shit- I was expecting him to like.. kill me!” Hobie laughed.

“I was expecting him to start tackling you!”

[hxzbinwrites]

Hiiii! Could I request a oneshot where Husk reunites with a gn! S/o he had back when he was alive? The reader decides to stay at the Hazbin Hotel as a way of staying protected from the rest of the sinners and overlords in hell. After Charlie introduces them to everyone, they stop at the bar for a shot and they recognize eachothers voices.

(It can be fluff or angst)

Tysm!^^✨️

Husk x Gn! Reader | Quitting |

Warnings ⚠️: Drinking, Alcohol Abuse, Cussing

(Y/n) is a mess. Just a plain mess. That’s what everyone though at least. Just a drunk weaving in and out of the next bar, blurring the lines between today and tomorrow, reality and fiction.

Groggily they drag their feet along the pavement, tired eyes desperately searching for a cheap enough bar that will still take them in. So far, no luck has been found. Most of the bars are either too expensive for someone who already blew everything they had on alcohol, or already know who they are and refuse to let them into their establishment.

And don’t even think about a place to stay. (Y/n) hasn’t been able to afford rent in years, not even a cheap motel to stay at. It’d be a blessing if somewhere that was a free stay just popped out right infront of them and just offered a place-

“HELLO!!”

“AH! WHAT THE HELL?” (Y/n) said, scowling at the cheerful face infront of them. It was Lucifer’s daughter, Charlie Morningstar. “Listen kid, don’t you know not to sneak up on folks!”

“Ah! I am so sorry!!” Charlie said, tucking her papers with drawings of rainbows made with crayon under her arm as she grabbed (Y/n)‘s hands.

“I’m here to make you an offer!” She said, smiling once more. Her cheerful demeanor was very different from (Y/n)’s deadpan expression.

“Listen kid, I don’t got much money. I find some here and there and then I blow it on booze, if you need investments, why don’t ya go to an Overlord or something, I ain’t got time for all of this.”

“Oh I don’t need any money!” Charlie said,”I need you! I’m working on a project to help rehabilitate sinners!! Help them go to Heaven!! And I’d like you to participate!”

“Why would I do that?” (Y/n) said, raising an eyebrow. “Shouldn’t you start off on an easier case or something, I just don’t think that’s a good idea-“

“You can stay there for free!-”

“Alright lets go.” (Y/n) said, taking their hands out of Charlie’s grasp before she started to crush them in a hug.

“YAY!!! ANOTHER GUEST AT THE HOTEL!!!” She squealed, making the drunk’s head throb at the loud noise.

“Alright, alright, that’s enough Princess. Lets go to this ‘hotel’ of yours.”

——————

Charlie kicked open the doors to the Hazbin Hotel, skipping in alongside (practically dragging along) the newest guest, (Y/n).

“EVERYONE!!!!” Charlie shouted,”EMERGENCY MEETING!! WE HAVE A NEW GUEST!!”

(Y/n) covered their ears, their eyes squinting in annoyance at the Princess’s very loud entrance.

Mostly everyone slowly made their way to the lobby, Vaggie being the first to enter.

“Hey. I’m Vaggie. I’m Charlie’s girlfriend. If anyone here gives you trouble, let me know, I’ll handle them.”. For someone so laid back and monotone, you really wouldn’t expect her partner to be the hyper princess who was literally jumping up and down.

(Y/n) and Vaggie conversed for a bit before Sir Pentious, Angel Dust, Alastor, and Nifty entered as well.

They all talked and got to know each other before in the corner of their eye, (Y/n) caught sight of a bar. A BAR!! They quickly excused themselves and hopped behind the counter, quickly mixing a drink.

“Excuse me, who are you and what are you doing behind my counter?” A deep voice said, instantly making (Y/n) freeze in their tracks.

“Husk?” They asked, turning around expecting a familiar face only to be met with a casio themed cat.

“(Y/n)? Is that really you?”

“Husk!!” They said, reaching over the counter to give him a hug, much like the one they were internally complaining about with Charlie earlier.

“It’s good to see you old friend. How’s Hell been treatin’ ya?”

“Shitty” They replied,”since I died, I’ve been a drunk and living off the streets for a few years. Well decades now. Oh well, I’m here now!”

Husk narrowed his eyes at her,”so you’re telling me that my old drinking buddy has been living off of these dangerous streets! Hell (Y/n), I’m glad that Charlie found you. Now, move away from the counter, let me make you a drink to commemorate you quitting drinking.”

“No fair!” (Y/n) said, plopping down on the bar stool,”quitting? We all know that’s impossible. I was a drunk when I was alive, I’m a drunk now that I’m dead-“

“And you’ll become sober when you go to Heaven. I….I really care for you (Y/n), you shouldn’t stay in this shithole. Go up to those pearly gates. For me please?” He said, sliding them their favorite drink.

“Sure Husk, I’ll do it for you. But if I do it, you gotta promise to come with me right after okay? No more gambling.”

Husk sighed, closing his tired eyes,”Fine. I’ll do it for you. You better be glad though (Y/n), I wouldn’t do this for nobody except you.”

They smiled, looking into Husk’s eyes as he smiled back. They both knew that they were gonna keep their promises.

—————

Word Count: 823

(sorry it’s so short 😭)

[dilfdemolisher]

Sir

Summary - You have a sleepover with your friend Sarah Miller, who's been a bit of a shitty friend lately. So you take opportunity with her dad Joel who's dying to fuck you 18+ MINORS DNI

Content - JOEL MILLER IS A CREEP! HE’S A WEIRDO! If you don’t like it don’t read it. Sarah and the reader are above the age of 18, didn’t specify but reader is legal ofc, she kinda likes that he’s a creep (just like me fr), Joel being shocked that a pretty young girl wants to touch his predatory pp, titty smack:), hair pulling, oral/fingering (f receiving), unsafe p in v, blurred lines of consent, choking, noncon creampie, prob grammar/spelling errors, and worst of all…tuna melts (idk i feel if a food was a creep it would be a tuna melt)

Word count - 3969;)

Walking into the Miller home isn’t something unusual with Sarah Miller being one of your closest friends you feel comfortable just walking in, you know they leave their door open. The neighbourhood is filled with families and elders, there’s not much of a threat of a break-in.

“That you Hun?” Mr. Miller speaks up from the kitchen, walking out of the entrance to your right into the kitchen he's cutting celery. “I’m making some tuna melts if you want one?”

“Oh no, it’s me, sorry.” You say before questioning him. “Is Sarah in her room?” You ask, heading towards the staircase.

“No, she's been out all day with that boyfriend of hers.” He says with a sigh. “Why ya’ asking?”

“Oh we were gonna hang out is all.” Now this is awkward you think, trying not to express your disappointment that his daughter bailed on you right in front of him.

“Well shit, I’m sorry.” He sighs while grabbing pickles from the fridge to start cutting. “Why don’t you sit down and I’ll make you one too?”

“Oh no you don’t have to do that.” You politely decline.

He stops his cutting to look towards you. “Have you eaten dinner yet?” He asks quizzically.

“No, I just don’t wanna bother you is all.”

“Well then sit, I insist I don’t want you leaving my house hungry Sweets, put something on the TV I’ll bring it out when it’s done”

Sweets that’s new

“Uhm well thank you sir.” You say a bit timidly, he looks up at you, corner of his mouth in a smirk. “Of course.”

————————————————————————

“Thank you.” You say as he hands you your plate. “Forensic Files nice.” He says as he sits down next to you. “I’m sorry ‘bout Sarah, I’m sure this isn’t your ideal evening.”

You nod and shrug. “It’s okay, if she's busy, she’s busy.”

He scoots himself closer before speaking again. “Say don’t ya’ got a boyfriend to keep yourself busy with? You’re a pretty one y’know, I think Sarah mentioned one.”

“Me? I don't, no.” You say sheepishly, taking a bite of your food and finally meeting his gaze after he doesn’t respond for a moment.

He’s looking at you intensely. Like you’re his prey, you think about scooting away from him before realizing you’re already snug against the arm of the couch. You’re stuck.

You took the final bite of your meal before looking at him and speaking. “Thank you for the food but I think I should get going before it’s late.”

He shakes his head with a smile. “Nonsense, I texted Sarah and told her she forgot and she’s heading here right now.” He says in between bites.

“Oh, thank you.” You say.

You must have misread his intentions, you almost feel guilty for thinking he was being creepy. He was just trying to be polite, and make conversation until Sarah arrived because HE went out of his way to do something nice for you and have her come home. He wasn’t even trying to come onto you.

“Of course, gimme your plate. I'll clean up down here while you’re waiting, you can head to Sarah’s room if ya’ want.” He says while reaching for your plate.

“Thank you sir.”

He maintains eye contact while taking your plate, two of his fingers run along the base of your hand starting at your wrist to your fingertips as he grabs the plate, the same smirk as earlier creeping on his lips.

He says nothing as he walks away, you decide it’s best to head up into Sarah’s room.

————————————————————————

You're hot, your body slightly sticky from the heat trapped beneath the blankets created by you and Sarah in your sleep. Sarah's sleeping next to you, mouth open with a small spot of drool on her pillow.

It's fucking hot though and not much sounds better than a cold glass of water, but that takes a walk in past the door of your friend's father who has been flirting with you. Fuck.

In all fairness it's not that he’s unattractive, it's definitely not that. More so because it's very inappropriate. That's your friend's father, which you are a little tense with at the moment. You'd talked about her absence and she only partially apologized, more so excused. You know damn well it's gonna happen again but your tendency to give forgiveness when not earned pushed aside any confrontation that would be valid.

But no, it would be inappropriate to think about anything with her father, he’s old enough to be yours. And that's with the assumption he was flirting with you all along. But a glass of water does sound really fucking nice right now. Leaving Sarah's room with a wince as her door squeaks as it opens, your footsteps treading lightly to avoid more noises; noises you hope don't wake Mr. Miller up.

You reach the bottom of the stairs and make your way to the kitchen by using your recollection of the floorplan and the faint glow on the floor from the moonlight, though you figure it's best to turn the stove light if you wanna get water without any spilling accidents.

You hit the switch and face the sink to turn on the faucet and let it run cold while you grab your glass from the cupboard. You fill your glass and take a sip, savouring the feeling of the liquid pouring down your throat and cooling you down from the inside, you can't help but let out a small hum of satisfaction as the glass leaves your mouth.

“Ain't that a pretty sound.” A voice from behind you rings.

You jump, startled by the break of silence the water from your predominantly full cup splashes onto your shirt. Your white shirt. The worst of the damage is on the tops of your chest, but it doesn't stop the water from slowly migrating down further.

“I-“ You stand there speechless, aware of your sudden nudity and completely unsure of how to navigate this situation. You stay staring at him for several moments before realizing he's not meeting your eye contact, his eyes are lying somewhere else.

“Well that ain't good is it.” He says, with a…caring look on his face. A complete switch from the way he looked at you seconds earlier though, if there was better lighting you could almost swear his pupils aren't normally that dilated though.

“We need to getcha’ a new shirt don’t we?” He says before walking away, he reaches the first steps of the stairs before realizing you aren’t following him. “I know that can’t be comfortable honey.” He empathizes with a nod of his head leading upstairs. Taking the cue you start walking upstairs to head to Sarah’s room without much thought as if your body’s doing it for your father then your mind in your state of embarrassment.

You both walk to the stairs as he keeps one arm gripping the railing, you can’t help but admire as you eye his bicep and the way the fabric of the shirt tightens around it. Though any other thoughts are cut short as he lets go of the railing and heads to his door and opens it without entering, implying for you to enter.

“I need to get a shirt from Sarah’s room.” Say matter of fact, not completely sure of how to take this.

Because there is no fucking way Mr. Miller is inviting you into his room

“Get one from my room, you don’t wanna wake Sarah up do ya’?”

You shake your head and he opens the door wider. You walk in and feel his palm press across your back pushing you forward slightly before he lets go when you’re a few feet away and walks back and peeks his head out in the direction of Sarah’s room and closes the door.

You hear a click presumably from him locking it. You sit on the foot of his bed. He looks over at you, you see his chest rising up and down faster than it should be from just a walk up his staircase.

He starts to walk over to you, slowly as if not to scare you like he’s about to pounce before he stops his movements when you speak.

“What’s happening?” You ask because you’re a solid 90% sure Mr. Miller had just led you into his room to fuck you but the voice in your head that’s telling you he’d never do that even though you don’t him that well is loud, almost as loud and disruptive as the arousal you feel stirring in your tummy.

You shouldn't want fuck him, it's your friend's father. Your friend who has been a shitty friend lately to be fair, and if you wanted to get payback in a way without her ever knowing, having sex with her father is definitely a good way to do it. So fuck it.

Joel opens his mouth to respond to your question but quickly shuts it when he sees you grab the hem of your top and drag it off, completely exposing your chest to him. You pull your feet from the floor to the bed underneath your thighs, having you in kneeling a position on his bed.

You look at Joel to see his jaw slacked as if this is a surprise for him. Speculating he didn't think it was going to be like this, that you would be so on board to fuck him. It's quite the uncomfortable thought that he may have had his way with you whether you wanted it or not, but that's a thought you need to push to the side for now. What you do have, is a moment of confirmation in your brain, now you know for sure that Joel Miller is a creep. But at least he's a hot one.

He's still standing by the door staring at you looking fucking gobsmacked, you’re starting to question if you have gave the man a stroke. “Mr. Miller?”

“Mmhm.” He hums, he slowly walks towards you until he’s standing in front of you. You can help but take a deep breath, he looks so intimidating from this angle, much bigger than the man who takes your bags inside for you so you don't have to haul it all yourself, or the man that Sarah talks highly of. No this is a different man.

Though, still feel some semblance of the man you know as he brings his hand up to your cheek and strokes it, holding your face so delicately like he will break it and shatter you if he took a tighter grip on your face.

You look for a moment and become certain that he's not wearing anything under those sweatpants with the way you can see his dick starting to get hard so clearly.

You drag your fingers down from his stomach to the band of his pants. “Can I suck your cock?” You ask, giving him your best puppy dog eyes.

“Fuck.” He growls. He stays staring at you for a moment before murmuring, “Come ‘er.” And leans down to bring your face towards his.

His kiss is soft the same way he is with cradling your face. He pushes you on your back gently, you pull apart for a moment as he takes a moment to look at your face. He moves a piece of hair away from your face and pushes it behind your ear.

“Nuh-uh, I’m gonna make you feel good baby.” He whispers, his voice is quite like he's suddenly apprehensive about his voice being heard.

He continues kissing you again, the carefulness that he once had starts subsiding as he bites your bottom lip and becomes more passionate. He's putting his entire body into the kiss, showing how badly he wants you. You wrap your legs around his waist and grind up into him, giving some form of friction against your pussy for the time being.

His kisses become messy, you can feel the fucking spit around your mouth from his, he’s practically drooling for you and this point. His slobbery kisses leave your mouth as they meet your jaw and make their way down to your neck.

His kisses make their way higher briefly as he nibbles on your earlobe. “Gonna make this pretty pussy of yours feel so good baby.” He whispers before gravitating towards your collarbone. He starts where it meets your shoulders and gives gentle kisses to where it meets the other at your sternum, then trails lower towards your breasts.

His hand tracks lower towards the band of your sleep shorts as you feel his kisses get closer and closer to your nipple. He doesn't hook his fingers into the band though instead he slowly drags his fingers towards your covered clit.

“Please.” You whimper as his tongue licks around your nipple. “What do ya’ want, gotta say it.” He kitten licks your nipple then pulls his mouth away, he pulls his hand away from your core and slaps your tit with it. “Use your words or you ain't gettin’ anything, I'll just use this cunt and get what I want.”

Your eyes roll back into your skull as you get your first taste of the pleasure that your body's been begging for. “I bet you'd like that though, huh?” He says with a light chuckle. He's getting such amusement from how quickly you turn into putty that's just waiting to be moulded by his hands.

“Your mouth, please.” You whine. “Want you to use your mouth on me, h-however you want.”

Your pleading seemed to have worked because he finally wraps his lips around your nipple and takes it into his mouth. He uses both of his hands and massages your tits as looks up at you with those big brown eyes. He moves to tease the other breast with his tounge as you tangle your hand into his curls.

You give them a tug Joel releases a moan from his lips. “Want ya’ to tug on my hair real good m’kay baby? Lemme know that I’m making you feel good.”

“Okay.” You whisper, more to yourself than to him. You cannot believe that Sarah’s father is actually between your legs. He moves his head lower and lower until he shifts himself down to get comfortable between your legs and leaves one last kiss on your pelvis then takes your knees into his hands to spread your legs further.

Without asking further, he drags your shorts and underwear down in one pull and chucks them onto the floor. You realize how vulnerable you are looking at him fully dressed as you lay beneath completely nude.

Takes to fingers and drags them up and down along your seam, teasing you. “Please, plea- just touch me.”

You raise yourself onto your forearms to look at him, your eyes pleading for any kind of stimulation. You watch as drags down towards your messy hole, he breaches the tips of his two fingers inside you and then moves them up to your clit. He finally gives pressure to it as he moves his fingers in tight circles over the nerve.

You let out a gasp, relishing the feeling of his calloused fingertips rubbing your pussy. “Thank yo-you.”

“Such a good girl using her manners for me.” He drags his fingers down towards your hole again and takes his middle finger and pushes it into you.

You watch as he stares transfixed, he watches his finger plunge in and out of you.

He pulls his finger out to stick his thick ring finger in accompanied by a squelch of wetness being sounded out along with your breathy whimpers as he fucks you with his two fingers a bit faster.

“God yes!” You let a proper moan for the first time, the feeling of his fingers pounding into that spongy spot inside of you feels so fucking good you can’t bother to manage your noise level anymore.

You can see his filthy smirk in the low light of his bedroom and his eyes watching your hole suck up his fingers. His mouth finds your clit as he dances his tongue along you testing the waters to see what you like. He pulled out his fingers and moves down to give to your hole to give it a messy, but light kiss. His lips are covered in your arousal and continue his kisses along your outer lips before setting one final kiss onto your throbbing clit.

He finally gives you what you need as he eats you out, hiking your thighs onto his shoulders brings you closer and closer to the brink, he continues his frantic movements until your orgasm finds its way from your pussy up to your head making your brain fog up.

He takes his fingers that were once in you that are now covered in your dry cum to drag them around your pussy to gather more wetness before bringing them up to your mouth, in your post-orgasm state not fully realising what he’s asking of you, he pulls your jaw open with his other and shoves his fingers into your mouth until you get the memo and you suck your slick off of them for him.

“Good Girl.” He says with a light, almost endearing smack on your cheek before he moves away to pull his dick out and align himself with your hole.

Too soon you think, you need a couple of seconds to recover before getting fucked by him but when you even begin to mutter a “wait” he clamps his hand over your mouth and pushes himself inside.

“I said I need you to be quiet. What do I have to do to get that through your slutty little head huh?”

He growls as he removes his hand from your mouth pinching your cheeks together causing your lips to push out a pout and shakes your head side to side.

He moves his hand from your face to your throat, not squeezing but resting his hand there, his eyes bore into your soul as he finally starts to slide in and out of you.

There’s a dynamic shift in the room and he knows you feel it too, he’s no longer the sad older dad who you were doing a favour by letting him fuck you. No, the energy in the room is much more sinister. The pieces in your head start to click that it never depended on if you willingly offered to suck him off, he would have had you in the same position regardless.

He can see it too, he continues staring at your eyes so diligently just to see to the moment when it clicks that he’s the one in control.

It feels much more silent than it was before as you break eye contact and look up towards the ceiling, the white noise in your brain turns off as you become hyper-aware of your surroundings. The way the sheets move under you, the sound of your skin slapping against each other as he picks up his pace, you feel his hand start to tighten around your throat and you let out a moan. You curse yourself, no. You curse your body and its reactions towards him for making you feel this way.

You can’t help but let out breathy moans with each thrust he gives. You can tell he’s getting closer by his slightly faulting pacing and the way his eyes, so tightly screwed shut, are extenuating his crow's feet along his temples.

He opens his eyes to see you now studying his face, and you can feel him study yours, the fat on your face that comes with you he no longer has, your cheeks a splotchy red colour from your activity. And pupils so heavily dilated for a moment he thinks you're enjoying this as much as he is before he sees how empty they are and remembers his hand squeezing your throat.

Your eyes roll back as you feel your face finally get the blood flow it's been begging for as he releases it from his palms.

“Say my name.” He says, pounding into you so sloppily you know he's on the brink.

You mutter a Mr. Miller and look at him just to see prominent dissatisfaction laced all over his face.

“Joel, please Joel.” You whine in attempts to correct yourself and beg for your not sure what for.

“I said say my FUCKING name.” He demands in a much more aggressive tone than he's given you before, still pounding into you relentlessly.

You feel his hand return to your throat to choke you, like actually choke you. Your hands that remained glued to your sides reach at his wrists trying to pull them away.

He looks at your confusion and repeats himself again, over and over. Telling you to say his name. Until you eventually understand what he wants.

“Sir.” You attempt to speak but nothing comes out, just a wheeze as you try to expel the air from your lungs to give him what he wants before your lungs more than they already are and you can do nothing but stay silent.

He stays staring at you, watching you try to get the words out only to fail, he only seems to snap out of it when he feels your nails dig into his arm and remembers his ask, he was just too caught up in the pleasure of watching you panic and the fear drip out of pores that he forgot what he was doing.

You feel his hand release your neck. You finally breathe, travelled by some coughs, but finally you say it.

“Sir.”

“Say it again.”

“Sir.”

“Again.”

You keep saying the same word over and over as he also repeats things of his own, only his a bunch of garbled “shits” and “fucks” as he tows the line of orgasm until he finally cums.

He lets his body drop onto you leaving you squashed between him and the mattress as he comes inside of you.

He lays his head on your tits and feels around for your wrist and places it onto his hair. Your body, running on autopilot, starts playing with his hair as you assume it's what he wants.

You two lay together breathing in sync, his ear by your heart hearing it pump blood to the rest of your body. He looks up at you with such tenderness that it gives you whiplash from the man he was just moments ago.

“You did so good y’know, ya really did.” He grabs your hand from his hair, brings it towards his face and leaves a gentle kiss on your palm before getting himself with a sigh.

He tucks himself back into his sweats and asks if you wanna join him in the shower. You shake your head no and you see a flash of disappointment cross his face.

“You sure?.”

You let a “mmhm” and he leaves it at that. He heads towards the shower before turning back and bends down. You feel him examine your face once more for any emotion to gauge how you’re feeling, but you have none. You're empty.

He presses a delicate kiss to your forehead and walks back and stops at the door.

“I’m happy we got to have this night together.” He says with a smile then closes the bathroom door.

You let out a sigh of relief you didn’t know you were holding when you hear the shower start to run. You feel the breeze from the open window cover your naked frame as you feel his cum start to slide out of you.

You start to sit and figure you'll have to clean yourself up in the bathroom downstairs until you hear a knock at his door.

“Dad?”

[cranberryjuice-posts]

- possession -

Pairings - Clarisse La Rue x fem! Hekate! Reader

Synopsis- you sick of people underestimating your relationship with clarisse

Tw - slightly suggestive, not smutty just heavy make-out

An - im currently working on another clarisse request but I got this idea and had to write it

You were tired. You heard the rumors from people.

‘Why is Clarisse dating a Hekate Girl? She’s probably only staying with her to not get cursed’

‘A Hekate kid— really I hear that their creepy poor clarisse must be scared’

‘ I hear that the only reason clairsse is with her is to have better chance at winning at capture the flag’

All the rumors were starting to piss you off. You weren’t holding clarisse hostage, she definitely wasn’t scared and you weren’t threatening to curse your girlfriend.

“Common? really babe your seriously upset over those stupid rumors” clarisse laughed trying to dismiss your insecurity. Putting your shirt on you glared back at her, upset mainly because she ruined the intimate moment ignoring her frown at the lost of your in your bra.

“Yes I’m upset over them, you do realize it’s not as easy here for me then for you. You have the reputation of being an ares kid, and also to add your a cabin counselor.”

“And you have the reputation of being my girlfriend and a strong ass witch so I really don’t see what the problem is”

Going to standup clarisse grabbed your waist pulling you back down onto the bed. Yelping from surprise, you turned and hit her softly on the shoulder. She leaned up kissing your neck softly. “You know I didn’t mean it like that” she muttered against your skin.

You rolled your eyes while leaning back into her shifting some to better face the stronger girl. “You have a shitty way with words” running a hand up her body, taking in her Nike sports bra and camp pj pants.

“I still try though” she smiled kissing you once again.

——

You stood in front of a mirror in the Aphrodite cabin, looking at your outfit you shifted the shirt off your shoulder to better suit your outfit.

Silena walked up behind you grabbing your waist making you jump. Laughing at your reaction she hugged you, looking over your shoulder. “You Look Perfect Why Are You Pressuring over your outfit”

Your silence spoke volumes. “Clarisse told me about the rumors, everyone who says them are just jealous” with that silena kissed your cheek “Common hot shot, bonfire is waiting for us”she chuckled before leaving the cabin.

Letting out a deep sigh you followed the raven haired girls lead. Walking towards the campfire you stopped, looking around for your girlfriend.

Catching you eye you saw Kira one of the other Aphrodite girls being just a little to touchy with clarisse.

—

“I’m serious how pretty do you think I am~” Kira flirted, placing her hand on clarisses shoulder while letting her other graze her body.

“Again I have a girlfriend” she grumbled taking Kira’s hands off of her, throwing them aside she stepped back some to create space. “Forget about her, we both know you’d much prefer me— I mean not to gloat but a daughter of Aphrodite versus a Daughter of Hekate.. it’s hardly a competition”

“First of all—“. Clarisses insult briefly interupted by you Pushing her back, pulling her into a kiss. Tangling a hand into her curly hair you forced the kiss deeper.

Parting only for a second you kissed her once more. Clarisse who had a shit eating grin placed her hands on your hips while pressing your bottom half against hers.

Pulling back you looked over to the now angry Kira. “Sorry didn’t see you there” You looked her up and down with a face of disgust, not letting her respond you grabbed clarisses Hand dragging her towards the ares cabin.

Once Inside you pressed clarisse against the door quickly pulling her into a kiss. Hands gliding under her shirt you gently rubbed her toned stomach.

Her body flinched in response, clarisses hands going straight for your thighs. Bringing one of your legs to her side. She tilted her head while sliding her tongue into your mouth.

Pulling away abruptly slightly pushing clarisse back into the door you scoffed. “Flirting? With an Aphrodite kid low blow”

“Don’t be like that I wasn’t flirting with her” she rolled her eyes walking up behind you.

You however were going to be like that. “Yeah Well how it looked to me You Sure as hell was”

walking towards the mirror in the cabin you leaned forward, fixing your makeup you felt clarisse place her Hands on your hips while leaning in to kiss your neck. She muttered something into your skin making you turn around to lightly hit her arm.

Clarisse grabbed your hand with a smile, turning you around and kissing you while pressing your body against hers. “Have I ever told you.. how hot it is when you get jealous”

“Your a bitch”

“Maybe” she sarcastically responded kissing you once again. Giving into her you chuckled giving her a slight groan. “You are so full of yourself” you panted against her lips.

“I’ve been told worse” she chuckled.

[aestheticaltcow]

Two Months

Carmy really fucked up, but maybe he can prove his worthiness and get his girls back.

MDNI 18+

The Bear Masterlist

Previous part Next part

Carmy sighed when his call went to voicemail after a few rings. He pushed a hand through his hair and listened to your voicemail message, “Hey baby- I just wanted to know if I could see Mia. I know you don’t want to see me, but I need to see her… if you could just bring her by the restaurant, that would be fine. I just want to hold my daughter. Uh- yeah. I’m sorry, I’m a fuckin’ dumbass. Please just give me five minutes to explain everything. Let me know. I love you.” he hung up the phone and leaned back in his chair. He stared up at the ceiling as he thought about you and Mia. It had been a couple of weeks since he’d seen either of you, and he just needed his girls again. 

“Asshole. Sign here.” Natalie barked at Carmy as she entered the office with an ordering forum. She shoved the papers at him before crossing her arms over her chest. “Natalie, I get it okay. I fucked up. My wife kicked me out of our house, I’m living in a shitty hotel, and I haven’t seen my daughter in weeks. I’m not in the fucking mood to deal with your bitching.” Carmy replied, glaring at his sister. She rolled her eyes, “You turned out so much like Dad.” she laughed, yanking the documents back. Carmy huffed, “Fuck you.”

“Right back at you, Carmen,” Natalie said, slamming the door behind her as she exited the office. “You okay, Sugar?” Richie questioned softly, noticing the anger in her eyes. She rolled her eyes and pushed past him without saying anything; being in the same vicinity as Carmy was irritating. Whenever she saw his face, she thought of Mia and how Carmy had repeated their father's actions. Natalie sighed when she got into her car, “I’m sorry you had to hear that, baby… let’s go get your brother.”

~

“Hey, Carm- everything okay with Y/N?” Richie awkwardly asked as Carmy was doing prep for that night's dinner service. “What do you think fuckhead?” Carmy snarkily responded; Richie rolled his eyes and decided to match his energy. “Well, she texted Tiff asking for her DIVORCE LAWYER’S info.” he leaned against the counter with a shit-eating grin. Carmy slammed his knife down and pushed past Richie to go into the alley. “That was fucked up, kid.” Tina scolded as she exited the walk-in. Richie shrugged, “I was going to be subtle, but he’s being a little bitch.” 

Carmy closed his eyes, fighting back tears when Syd showed up for prep. “Hey Carmen, are you okay?” she asked, stepping closer. He shook his head and let out a puff of air, “Y/N’s gonna leave me- I fuckin’ deserve it, but I want my wife Sydney. She won’t even fuckin’ talk to me, but she’ll fuckin’ divorce me? It’s bullshit.” Carmy cried to her. Syd stood there for a moment to collect her thoughts. She swallowed before sitting down next to him and pat Carmy’s shoulder as she began to explain her point of view on the situation, “You fucked up, Carmen. But you love Y/N and Mia- just go. Go home. I’ll cover tonight. Go talk to your wife.” 

Carmy took Syd’s suggestion. He wasn’t sure if you’d let him in or even talk to him, but he knew he should at least try.

~

“I don’t know Natalie. I just… I mean- I’m gonna sound like a dumb bitch, but maybe I could?” you groaned into your phone as Natalie was about to answer the doorbell rung. “Hey Nat, can I call you back in a bit? Someone’s here.” you waited for her passive agreement and hung up. You put your phone in your back pocket and went to the front door. You felt your stomach flip when you opened the door to reveal Carmy standing in your doorway. He was an unshaven mess, with messy curls and dark circles under his eyes. “Carmen? What are you doing here?” you questioned, bracing the door, hoping it would prevent him from entering your once-shared house. “You’re divorcing me?” he asked on the brink of tears. You sighed, “I asked Tiffany for her lawyer's information- that’s all.” 

“Y/N, you can’t leave me without giving me a chance to make things right.” Carmy pleaded. You sucked your teeth, “Carmen, I really don’t want to talk about this right now… Mia’s asleep, but you can come in and say goodnight if you want.” you offered as you pulled your sleeves over your hands. Carmy nodded furiously, “I-I, ye-yes, please.”

Carmy stared down at Mia’s sleeping body. She was splayed across her crib in a green onesie with a pacifier to match. Carmy swallowed as he watched her legs twitch. “She doesn’t like sleep sacks anymore?” he asked softly. You nodded before answering, “She decided it was her own personal hell a couple weeks ago, so now she’s a big girl.” 

Carmy laughed softly and put his hand on Mia’s cheek. She squirmed and leaned into his hand, “I love you, princess.”

You walked Carmy out of the nursery and into the hallway by the front door, “Can we talk?” Carmy asked, trying not to burst into tears and lock himself in the nursery. You nodded, “Okay. What do you want to talk about?” 

Carmy swallowed. “I know you hate me, but I need to see Mia.” He took a quick breath before continuing, “Y/N, please don’t keep my daughter from me. I’ll give you whatever you want. I just need to see my daughter.” Carmy sniffled as he wiped his eyes. 

Guilt. When you saw the hurt on his face, you knew what you had to do. “Next time I need someone to watch her, I’ll call you.” you offered, Carmy grinned and thanked you before starring at you with the same love and admiration he always had. He turned to walk back to his car but stopped in the middle of the yard, “I love you. I’m gonna win you back.” he pushed a hand through his hair before shoving them in his jacket pockets. You rolled your eyes, “Bye Carmen. Drive safe.” 

~

The flu hit your office like a semi-truck. Everyone got sick, including you, and taking care of a sick baby proved more complicated than you’d thought. No one could help you, so reluctantly, you called Carmy to come be with Mia that night. He was over the moon but tried to play it cool, you saw it through immediately. It was sweet in a cheesy, trying too hard kind of way.

“Hey baby, I brought you pastina soup and Tylenol.” he grinned, handing you a paper bag, “Thank you, Carmen.” you were short with him. Carmy noticed but chopped it up to you being sick, “I can make you some tea.” he offered as you walked back to your bedroom. “I’m fine, Carmen. Please just watch Mia,” you said over your shoulder before closing the bedroom door behind you. You wanted to be mad at him, but it was hard when he was so thoughtful… and handsome. He cleaned himself up since the last time you saw him.

Carmy sat back on the couch, making funny faces at Mia. She squealed and grabbed the air in Carmy’s direction. “I missed you so much, princess.” he laughed as he brought her up to his chest; he rubbed her back as she tried to hug him. “Okay, let's check on Mommy and then make some dinner. Daddy missed his favorite sous.” Carmy explained as he got up. The two walked down the hallway, Mia babbling away as Carmy adjusted her in his arms. He bumped the bedroom door open with his hip and saw you peacefully sleeping. He stepped into the bedroom and grabbed the trash from your side table. Mia grumbled as the two of you exited the room; Carmy chuckled and kissed her temple. “I know, princess. I wanna snuggle with Mommy too, but she doesn’t feel well… and hates me, but we’ll figure it out.”

You abruptly woke up around midnight when you heard talking through the baby monitor. You stumbled out of your bedroom and across the hall to the nursery; the door was askew, and as you approached it, you more clearly heard Carmy’s voice. He was laying on the floor next to Mia’s crib, “My little Mia… I wish you could stay this little forever.” he whispered as he put his hand up to the crib gate. The sight alone made your heart yearn for your family to be back together. You knew what you had to do.

~

“And that princess is how you make scrambled eggs, the right way.” you laughed when you overheard Carmy’s cooking lesson. You walked into the kitchen and saw Carmy plating up scrambled eggs, “Hey.” you greeted as you got a mug from the cabinet. Carmy grinned in your direction, “Mornin’ baby. Feelin’ better?” 

“Feelin’ waaaaaaay better,” you started, “Thanks for coming over to take care of her. I really appreciate it.”. Carmy leaned against the counter, “I’m her Dad- it’s my job.”

“You’re a good one… I don’t know where you’ve been staying, but if you want, I uh- I made up the guest room if you want to come home…” you explained, “I feel like I’ve been keeping Mia from you, and that’s fucked up.” you rocked on your heels hoping Carmy wouldn’t assume this offer meant you wanted to get back together. He nodded immediately, “I would love that.” Carmy was giddy at the idea of getting to be with Mia every day again- it also gave him an opportunity to win you back.

It had only been a few days since Carmy had been back home, and he jumped right back into the daily hustle and went above and beyond what he usually did. Carmy changed his schedule and managed to do a lot of his restaurant owner duties at home so that he could be with Mia more. The house was clean, the pantry was stocked with all your favorite snacks, home-cooked meals, and a very happy baby, and it drove you crazy.

“I just- this man is driving me insane.” you ranted as you sipped your margarita. It was girls’ night out with Syd and Natalie. You were two margaritas in and deep in your feelings. “I should just forgive-” you were cut off by Natalie exclaiming, “NO! You can’t just forgive him, Y/N. He’s a fuckin’ idiot for even thinking about being with another woman. It makes all his ‘you make me a better man’ vows bullshit. Our Dad used to do the same shit to Donna all the time- and she just accepted it! Then he left her. I don’t want Carmy to do the same to you- he already fuckin’ started doing it.”

You were taken aback by Natalie’s ranting and raving; you’d known that Carmy had a difficult relationship with his Dad, but you hadn’t known the full extent. You looked at Syd, wanting her to weigh in on the situation, “Carmy’s an asshole, but he’s your asshole. He loves you. He loves Mia. I don’t know if he’ll do it again - if my partner pulled something like this on me, I think I’d hear them out.”

It was almost 10 when Carmy had finally managed to get Mia to fall asleep. He was exhausted after a long day, but when he’d gone into your bedroom to get the baby monitor, he couldn’t help but notice a satin black thong sitting on the top of the laundry hamper. He stared at the underwear for a moment before shaking his head. He wasn’t going to take his wife’s dirty underwear. Carmy walked toward the door before pausing and going back to the hamper. “I guess I am that guy,” he scoffed, grabbing the panties and putting them in the pocket of his sweatpants. 

Carmy lay in bed leaning against a pile of pillows, scrolling through the private folder on his photo app. “There it is…” he mumbled as he tapped the video before putting his headphones in. “You promise no one else will see this, right?” your voice flooded Carmy’s ears as he pushed his sweats off. “Of course not, baby.” he reassured you as your hands reached for his zipper. He watched as you bit your lip and unzipped his pants. Carmy groaned as he watched you give him a blow job. Carmy took the underwear he’d stolen from your bedroom and started stroking himself. The sensation reminded him of when he’d tease you before relentlessly fucking you into a crying mess. 

“Oh fuck-” Carmy exhaled as he felt his orgasm approaching. He swiped to the next video of riding him. Carmy salivated at the sight of your bouncing tits. You were moaning his name as your movements got more frantic, “Cream all over my fuckin’ cock, baby.” 

“That was a fun night,” you said startling Carmy, he dropped his phone before quickly covering himself with a blanket as you stood in the doorway. You giggled at his reaction, you were just going to ask how Mia was before going to bed but catching Carmy masturbating with your underwear… blame it on the alcohol but you wanted a taste.

“I uh- I didn’t hear you- hear you come inside.” Carmy stumbled over his words as you fully entered the guest room. “No need for you to be embarrassed, Carmy…” he watched with wide eyes as you moved around the bed to sit next to him on the bed. You sighed and pushed the blanket off his lap to expose him.

You pushed your hand up Carmy’s thigh, making him swallow hard. “What made you so hard, baby? Were you being a little perv… jacking off with my dirty panties… watching a video of me sucking your cock?” you mewled as you ran your fingers along his thigh. Carmy nodded as he stared into your eyes. You giggled and grasped the base of his length. He croaked as you started to stroke him, “You like that baby?” you asked cocking your head to the side, staring up at him. He nodded as he let his head fall back against the headboard.

Carmy whimpered as you ran your tongue along the bottom of his cock. You swirled your tongue around his leaking tip, making him swear under his breath. As you took more of him in your mouth, his whimpers turned to whiny moans. You pulled away with a pop. Carmy stared down at you, watching a string of saliva connect your lips to the head of his cock. “Does that feel nice, baby?” you asked as you returned to pumping your hand around him. “So-so nice,” he replied, touching your cheek. You smiled as you pushed it away.

“But, why should I suck your cock if you’re gonna let just any woman off the street suck it?” you asked. Carmy shook his head, “Only-only you, baby-y.” he shuddered.

“Only me? Tell me, Carmen, who does this cock belong to?” he was putty in your hands as you slowed your pace. “You, baby, only you.” he groaned, “Prove it.” you challenged.

Carmy buried his face in the crook of your neck as he slowly pressed into your entrance as you lamented at the familiar sensation. You held onto Carmy’s shoulders as he started thrusting his hips in a steady rhythm, “Hmm, Carmy…” you hummed as he hungrily kissed your neck.

“I don’t deserve you baby…”

Tag List @namjoons-crabssss @sl-ut @thottae @cuddlehye @prurose @1184p @chaoticfanficfanx @ok-boke @literatureluster @bxtchopolis @americanprometheuss @buckystwilight @earth-elemental18 @thebearlily @siren-melodies @thel0v3hashira143 @innercreationflower @unpoqu1todetodo @thehouseofevangelista @pizzaspirits @aleemendoza2425-blog @visualbutterflysworld

[lwyikas]

francis forever ft miya atsumu

w:angst but with little sprinkle of pure love, death

"I don't think I could stand to be where you don't see me"

“Did she cry after i left?”

"Yes but she fall asleep after playing with her toys ”

“I wont be late mom,is there anything you want me to get?”

“No honey, just drive carefully”

After muttering something similar to “i will”, he put the phone in his pocket.He would love to bring your daughter to anniversary you two, but he couldn’t afford to risk her getting sick. Although he was dressed thickly, he was quite cold, he didn’t have enough gasoline to turn on heater. He forgot to stop by petrol. He was sentenced to sit in the cold because he was confused. His head was always messy anyway. He blows hot air into his hands and rubs it, took bouquet of roses from next seat and got out of the car.

Here we go again

and autumn comes when you're not yet done with the summer passing by

The cold breeze of October, which he hated while walking with slow steps, made him startle. Unlike you, he hates autumn, anymore. Rain, wind are shitty mud everywhere, according to him, there is no side to make any beautification of them but he likes days when weather matches his mood. Partly, if the weather was sunny on a shitty day, his nerves would be more.

When he reached you he stops. Sighing, he left bouquet on dried soil. Sits on cold marble, he put his hands on his chin and brokes silence after short wait.

“I’m here, dear”

silence, all he hears is hum of the wind

“I’m sorry, there weren’t any white roses you loved, so i bought red ones”

silence

I end up on a tree-lined place I look up at the gaps of sunlight

He squeezes his jaw and turns his gaze to sky, he hates coming here to death, but except for his daughter, the last thing left of you is the tombstone. When he came to his grandfather’s grave when he was little, he would see people talking to the graves and wonder,is these people think how they looks from outside?

With his growth and maturation, he find out that this thought didn't mean a fuck. He had a painful process to found out but still did.

Stop it Atsumu, you’re not here to cry.

In a hurry takes out a paper from his jacket ”our daughter really loves draw, i can’t say she is very talented, but i thought you would still want”he put paper, which is small hand shapes and stick mens, under bouquet so it wouldn’t fly from wind.

“I’m sorry you heard this but she more and more looks like me every day, you lost bet” another pause “But i will never get that 10 dollar from you”

He passes his hand through blonde hair. It’s been two years, but pain still same like first day, it never goes away. He was never ready for this. You gave him many signals in last moments in your illness but he is stubborn man.

“I don’t freak out when we lose a match anymore” because now he knows that there so much things that will upset human more than losing a match. Not being able to witness your daughter’s first day at school, only he was there when he took her to park, chair you used to sit on was always empty while teaching her numbers at tkitchen table are a few of them.

“I just focus on the mistakes i made in match and i try not to make them in the next match” but he won’t have a chance to try not to make mistakes he made against you again.

no, today is your two’s wedding anniversary, 6 days later it’s your death anniversary,no negativity,even if his wife passed, he is still a married man who in love with her deeply.That wedding ring never comes out of his finger.

he miss you more than anything

It’s getting dark, before going home, he has to buy chocolates he promised to his daughter. Although he couldn’t keep all the promises he made to you,he must keep promises he made to her.

“See you gorgeous, don’t leave until i come next week” he doesn’t even find this funny.he leaving a kiss on tombstone, he gets in way towards his car. After getting into car, he leans his head against steering wheel and takes a deep breaths to recover.

When he comes home after stopping by convenience store,he don't ring bell just in case.His mother opens door,he gets inside.Leaving bag in his hand in the kitchen,he goes up stairs and watches from doorframe to his daughter sleep.

He’s liar asshole, this girl was definitely your copy.He slowly sits on the edge of her bed and gently strokes her hair so she doesn’t wake up.

When his vision starts to blur, his chest trembles and difficult to breathe, he cannot suppress his tears more.

i'm crying with him too

[darknesseddiem]

𝐂𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝 𝐈𝐧 𝐂𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐬 - 𝐎𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫! 𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐝! 𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐱 𝐓𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Eddie, a witty single dad in his thirties, finds his daughter Selene determined to play matchmaker. Selene sets her sights on you, the kind-hearted teacher she believes is perfect for her dad. However, Selene's well-meaning schemes often lead to humorous misunderstandings and mishaps between Eddie and you.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: None, fluff and Selene playing matchmaker.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 8k+

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: Okay, this was supposed to be a short blurb but I got carried away haha, also, I feel like this is so shitty omg I'm sorry guys.

Being a dad wasn’t in Eddie’s plans—especially not as a single dad. He loved his daughter Selene more than anything, but raising a newborn at thirty was a challenge he never saw coming. Her mom, a groupie he met at the Hideout, appeared on his doorstep one day with a tiny bundle and the bombshell news that he was a father. Then, just as quickly, she vanished, leaving Eddie to figure out fatherhood on his own.

At first, it was overwhelming. Sleepless nights, diaper disasters, and the constant worry of not being good enough haunted him. But Eddie rose to the challenge. He became the best dad Selene could ask for. He let her dress him up like a princess—complete with tiara—just to see her smile. He sang girly pop songs with all the enthusiasm of a rock concert, even if his Taylor Swift renditions were hilariously off-key. Selene’s giggles were worth every missed note and awkward dance move.

As she grew, new challenges arose. Eddie was terrified of kindergarten and primary school, haunted by memories of his own school days filled with bullying and the heavy stigma of being a Munson. He worried Selene would face the same judgments and social struggles. The thought of her enduring what he went through kept him up at night. But his love for her was unwavering, and he vowed to protect her from the shadows of his past.

Dating fell by the wayside as Eddie devoted himself to Selene. His wild nights at the Hideout were replaced by Disney movie marathons and bedtime stories. He traded late-night parties for evenings filled with princesses, talking animals, and endless reruns of "Frozen." And truth be told, he wouldn’t trade those moments for anything.

This shift led to the current heart-to-heart with his friend Steve, someone Eddie never thought he'd befriend. As they sat on the couch, Eddie voiced his frustrations.

“You don’t understand, man. I can’t just go out and date any girl now,” Eddie explained, sipping his cold beer.

“I get it, but ever since Selene was born, you don’t go out anymore—not even with us!” Steve said, frustration evident. “You’ve turned into a hermit, man. You need a life outside of Disney movies and bedtime stories.”

Eddie sighed, staring at the flickering TV. “I know, Steve. It’s just... everything’s different now. I can’t just drop everything and go out like I used to.”

Steve nodded sympathetically. “I get that you’re a dad now, but you’ve gotta take care of yourself too. Maybe it’s time to dip your toes back into the dating pool. Who knows? You might find someone who understands and fits into your new life.”

Eddie let out a wry chuckle. “I doubt that. What kind of woman wants a thirty-six-year-old guy with a daughter? Slim pickings, I tell you.”

Steve squeezed Eddie’s shoulder reassuringly. “Don’t count yourself out, buddy. We’ll find you someone.”

Eddie looked at Steve with a hint of resignation. “Forget it, Steve,” he sighed. “I think I’m destined to be alone for the rest of my life.” He rolled his eyes playfully, masking the underlying sadness with humor.

Just then, a small figure emerged from the hallway shadows. Selene stood there, eyes wide and thoughtful. Eddie and Steve turned, momentarily surprised.

Eddie's heart skipped a beat, realizing she had heard everything. He swallowed hard, unsure of what to say.

Selene looked up at her dad with a serious expression. “Daddy, you don’t have to be alone. I can help find you a girlfriend!”

Eddie blinked, taken aback by her earnestness. He exchanged a surprised glance with Steve, who stifled a chuckle.

“Sel,” Eddie started, his voice softening as he knelt to her level, “It’s sweet of you to want to help, but…”

“But what?” Selene interrupted, eyes wide with determination.

“But it’s not that simple,” Eddie explained gently. “Finding someone special takes time, and they have to be someone who understands how important you are to me.”

Selene nodded thoughtfully, processing her dad’s words. “Okay,” she finally said, a small smile playing on her lips. “But when you find her, can we watch Disney movies together?”

Eddie couldn’t help but smile at his daughter’s innocence. “Of course, sweetheart,” he replied, ruffling her hair affectionately.

Steve watched the exchange with a fond smile. “You’ve got quite the matchmaker here, Eddie,” he remarked, patting Eddie’s shoulder.

“Yeah,” Eddie chuckled, his heart feeling lighter than it had in a while. “She’s something else.”

While Eddie and Steve chuckled over their beers, finding amusement in the situation, Selene had already made up her mind: she would find her daddy a girlfriend.

Returning to her room, Selene plopped down on her bed and began to think about all the adult women she knew. Well, there was the librarian, Mrs. Petterson, but she looked like an old owl with her thick glasses and constant "shushing." Then there was the girl from the bakery who always brought cakes for her and her daddy, but she smelled weird—like a mix of flour and something Selene couldn't quite place, maybe too much vanilla.

She briefly considered the nice lady from the grocery store who always gave her stickers, but she remembered her loud, witchy laugh that made her shiver. And then there was Mrs. Hinkley, the neighbor with the ten cats, but Selene was pretty sure her daddy was allergic to cats.

She sighed dramatically and sank deeper into her pillow. Wow… It was so hard to get a girlfriend. It seemed like every woman she knew had some kind of issue or quirk. Just then, a light bulb went off in her head. She sat up abruptly, her eyes wide with excitement. Her kindergarten teacher, Miss Sunshine! Miss Sunshine was perfect—she was always kind, smelled nice, and most importantly, Selene adored her.

With renewed determination, Selene smiled to herself. This was going to work. It had to! She just needed to come up with a plan. After all, if finding a girlfriend for her daddy was this hard, actually making it happen would require all her wits and maybe a bit of luck.

That night, Selene went to sleep with her head buzzing with ideas. Tomorrow, her plan would begin. She could already picture it: Daddy and Miss Sunshine, happy together. Selene smiled to herself as she drifted off, dreaming of all the ways she would bring them together.

The next morning, Selene woke up with the first rays of dawn, excitement bubbling inside her like a fizzy soda. She could hardly contain her enthusiasm as she slipped out of bed and padded over to her dresser. Today was the day her grand plan would begin.

She chose her favorite princess dress, the one with sparkles and a twirl-worthy skirt, and carefully pulled it on. She took extra time brushing her hair, making sure it was smooth and shiny, just like a real princess. Finally, she checked her reflection and gave herself a big, confident smile. She was ready.

Eddie was already in the kitchen, juggling a frying pan and a coffee mug. He was making scrambled eggs and toast, a breakfast staple in the Munson household. He hummed softly to himself, enjoying the quiet morning routine.

Selene bounded into the kitchen, her dress fluttering around her. "Morning, Daddy!" she chirped, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.

Eddie turned, a broad smile spreading across his face at the sight of his daughter. "Good morning, princess! You’re up early today."

Selene climbed onto a chair at the kitchen table, her excitement barely contained. "I have a special day planned, Daddy. It’s very important!"

Eddie chuckled as he placed a plate of eggs and toast in front of her. "Oh? And what’s so special about today?"

Selene leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "It’s a secret, but you’ll find out soon."

Eddie raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "A secret, huh? Well, I guess I’ll just have to wait and see."

After breakfast, Eddie and Selene headed out to the car. Eddie helped Selene buckle into her booster seat before climbing into the driver’s seat. As they drove to school, Selene hummed a happy tune, her mind racing with thoughts of how the day would unfold.

Eddie glanced at her in the rearview mirror, a soft smile playing on his lips. "You seem extra happy today, Sel. Anything you want to share with your old man?"

Selene giggled. "Not yet, Daddy. But it’s going to be amazing. You’ll see."

Eddie laughed, shaking his head in amusement. "Alright, princess. I trust you."

When they arrived at the school, Eddie walked Selene to her classroom, as he did every morning. You were already there, greeting students with your usual warmth. Your bright smile and sunny demeanor earned you the nickname, and you was a favorite among the children and parents alike.

"Good morning, Miss Sunshine!" Selene called out as she entered the classroom, her excitement evident.

"Good morning, Selene!" You replied, your smile widening. "You look lovely today. Is that a new dress?"

Selene twirled around, showing off her outfit. "No, but it’s my favorite!"

Eddie watched the exchange with a fond smile before stepping forward. "Morning, Miss Sunshine. How are you?"

"I’m great, Mr. Munson. How about you?"

"Can’t complain," Eddie replied, giving you a nod before turning to Selene. "Alright, princess. Have a great day. I’ll see you later."

As soon as Eddie left, Selene’s determination kicked into high gear. She needed to talk to you and set her plan in motion. She waited patiently until the morning activities started, then approached you with a serious expression.

"Miss Sunshine, I have a very important message for you," Selene said, her voice solemn.

You knelt down to her level, intrigued. "What’s the message, Selene?"

"Daddy wants to meet you," Selene stated confidently. "He said he needs to talk to you about something very important."

Your eyes widened in surprise. "Oh? Did he say why?"

Selene nodded eagerly. "Yep! He said he needs to talk to you about something super important."

Your mind raced, trying to decipher the meaning behind Selene’s words. She assumed it must be related to Selene’s behavior or perhaps a concern Eddie had about her schooling. "Is everything okay with you, Selene?"

Selene beamed. "Everything is perfect!"

You smiled, albeit a bit confused. "Alright, I’ll make sure to speak with him when he comes to pick you up."

Eddie arrived at the school later that afternoon, looking forward to seeing Selene after a long day. As he walked towards the classroom, he noticed you standing by the door, a concerned look on your face.

"Hello!" Eddie greeted you with a friendly smile.

"Hello, Mr. Munson. Could I have a word with you?" you asked, your tone a bit more serious than usual.

Eddie’s smile faltered. "Sure, is something wrong?"

You glanced at Selene, who was busy drawing at a nearby table. "Well, Selene mentioned that you wanted to talk to me about something important."

Eddie looked puzzled. "She did? I mean, I guess there’s always something to talk about when you’re a parent, but I didn’t have anything specific in mind."

You frowned slightly, your patience thinning. "She said you were concerned about something."

Eddie’s expression hardened, feeling a twinge of irritation. "Concerned? No, Selene’s been great! I can’t think of any problems."

Selene, overhearing the conversation, decided to join in. "Daddy, did you ask Mrs. Sunshine to be your girlfriend yet?"

Eddie’s eyes widened in shock. "What? No, Selene, that’s not what we talked about!"

Your cheeks turned a shade of pink, and you folded your arms. "Oh, I see. This is a bit... unexpected."

Eddie tried to regain his composure, his voice tense and a bit louder. "I’m really sorry. Selene must have misunderstood our conversation. We were talking about... well, adult stuff, and she must have gotten the wrong idea."

You nodded, but your expression remained serious. "No harm done, but you should know what your daughter is thinking. Kids have such vivid imaginations, but it’s important to clarify these things."

Eddie rubbed the back of his neck, feeling his frustration rise. "Yeah, she’s definitely got that. I hope this didn’t cause you any trouble."

You shook your head, your smile more strained than genuine. "Not at all, but maybe you should have a talk with her."

Selene looked up at both of you, confused by the adult tension but proud of her efforts. "So, you don’t want to be my daddy’s girlfriend?"

Eddie clenched his jaw, his frustration bubbling over. "Selene, I think it’s best if we leave this to the grown-ups, okay?"

Selene sighed dramatically but nodded. "Okay, Daddy."

You crouched down beside her, your tone softening. "Don’t worry, Selene. Your daddy and I are just friends, and that’s important too."

Selene smiled, satisfied for the moment. Eddie stood up, feeling a mix of relief and lingering irritation.

"Thanks for understanding," he said, his tone sharper than intended.

"No problem at all, Mr. Munson. Have a good evening," you replied, matching his tone.

As they walked away, Eddie couldn’t help but feel a mix of frustration and embarrassment. Despite the awkwardness, he appreciated Selene’s efforts but knew this was just the beginning of what could be a long, complicated journey.

Eddie and Selene walked to the car, Eddie’s mind still buzzing with the awkward exchange with Sunshine. As they buckled in, Eddie couldn’t hold back any longer. He needed to address what had just happened.

Eddie started the car, the engine’s hum filling the initial silence. He glanced at Selene through the rearview mirror, her innocent face reflecting none of the confusion and frustration swirling inside him.

“Selene,” Eddie began, trying to keep his voice calm, “we need to talk about what happened today.”

Selene looked up, her eyes wide with curiosity. “Did you like talking to Sunshine, Daddy?”

Eddie sighed, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter. “Selene, you told Sunshine that I wanted to talk to her about something important. Why did you do that?”

Selene’s face lit up with a proud smile. “Because you do! You told Uncle Steve you wanted someone to share your life with, and I thought Sunshine would be perfect!”

Eddie groaned inwardly, trying to suppress his irritation. “Sweetheart, I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but you can’t just tell people things like that. It caused a big misunderstanding.”

Selene’s smile faded, replaced by a look of confusion. “But I just wanted to help.”

Eddie glanced at her again, his frustration evident but softened by her earnest expression. “I know you did, but grown-up stuff is complicated. You can’t just decide for someone else who they should be with.”

Selene’s eyes welled up with tears, her lower lip quivering. “I’m sorry, Daddy. I just wanted you to be happy.”

Eddie’s heart softened, his frustration melting away at the sight of her tears. He pulled the car over to the side of the road and turned to look at her directly.

“Selene,” he said gently, reaching back to hold her tiny hand, “I know you want to help, and I love you for that. But finding someone special is something that has to happen naturally. You can’t force it or plan it.”

Selene sniffled, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “I just thought Sunshine would make you smile like she makes me smile.”

Eddie smiled softly, squeezing her hand. “She’s a wonderful teacher, Selene, and I’m glad she makes you happy. But these things take time, and we have to let them happen on their own.”

Selene nodded slowly, understanding dawning in her eyes. “Okay, Daddy. I’m really sorry.”

Eddie leaned over and kissed her forehead. “It’s okay, princess. Just promise me you won’t try to set me up with anyone again without talking to me first.”

Selene nodded earnestly. “I promise.”

Eddie started the car again, his heart feeling lighter. As they drove home, he couldn’t help but chuckle at the day’s events. Despite the awkwardness and frustration, he knew Selene’s intentions were pure. 

Later that night, Selene sat quietly in her room, her little mind racing with thoughts. The plan hadn’t gone as expected, but she wasn’t ready to give up yet. There had to be another way to get her daddy and Sunshine together. She picked up her favorite stuffed animal, Mr. Whiskers, and hugged it tight as she brainstormed.

"What if Daddy invited Sunshine to dinner?" she whispered to Mr. Whiskers. "Maybe then they could talk and get to know each other better."

She nodded to herself, feeling a new wave of determination. Tomorrow, she would find a way to get Daddy to invite Sunshine over for dinner. But for now, it was time for dinner with Daddy.

Downstairs, Eddie was busy in the kitchen, preparing their usual Wednesday night spaghetti. The aroma of garlic and tomato sauce filled the air, making Selene’s stomach rumble. She hopped off her bed and made her way downstairs, her excitement momentarily forgotten as she thought about how much she loved spaghetti nights with her dad.

"Dinner’s almost ready, princess," Eddie called out as he stirred the pot. "Can you set the table for me?"

"Sure, Daddy!" Selene replied, grabbing the plates and silverware. She carefully set the table, making sure everything was perfect.

Eddie brought the pot over and began serving the spaghetti, a warm smile on his face as he watched Selene carefully placing the forks and spoons. They sat down together, the cozy kitchen a safe haven for the two of them.

As they ate, Selene decided to ask the question that had been lingering in her mind for a while. "Daddy, why don’t I have a mom?"

Eddie froze, the fork halfway to his mouth. He put it down slowly, taking a deep breath. This was a conversation he had known would come eventually, but it didn’t make it any easier. He looked at Selene, her big, innocent eyes staring up at him, waiting for an answer.

"Selene," he began softly, "your mom... well, she wasn’t ready to be a mom. When you were born, she decided that she couldn’t take care of you, so she left. It’s just been you and me ever since."

Selene’s eyes filled with confusion and sadness. "But why did she leave, Daddy? Wasn’t she happy to have me?"

Eddie’s heart ached at the sight of her tears. He moved his chair closer to hers and pulled her into his lap, holding her close. "It wasn’t your fault, sweetheart. Your mom had her own problems and she made a choice. But I want you to know that you are the best thing that ever happened to me. I love you more than anything in this world, and I wouldn’t trade our time together for anything."

Selene sniffled, burying her face in Eddie’s chest. "I love you too, Daddy. But sometimes I wish I had a mom like the other kids."

Eddie stroked her hair, his own eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I know, baby. I wish things were different too. But you have so many people who love you—Uncle Steve, Miss Sunshine, and all your friends at school. And no matter what, you’ll always have me."

Selene hugged him tighter, feeling the comfort of his embrace. "I know, Daddy. I’m glad I have you."

They sat there for a while, holding each other, finding solace in their shared love. Eddie knew he couldn’t change the past, but he was determined to give Selene the best future he could. And maybe, just maybe, things would start to look up for both of them.

Later that night, as Eddie tucked Selene into bed, she looked up at him with a determined expression. "Daddy, can we invite Sunshine to dinner? Maybe she’d like spaghetti too."

Eddie chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "We’ll see, princess. Let’s take things one step at a time, okay?"

Selene nodded, her eyes already drooping with sleep. "Okay, Daddy. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Selene," Eddie whispered, kissing her forehead. He turned off the light and closed the door, feeling a mix of hope and trepidation. Tomorrow was another day, and who knew what it might bring. But for now, he was grateful for the love he shared with his daughter, even if it was just the two of them against the world.

The next morning, Selene woke up with a renewed sense of determination. She jumped out of bed and dressed quickly in her favorite outfit—a bright yellow dress covered in tiny sunflowers. With a smile on her face, she ran downstairs to find Eddie already in the kitchen, flipping pancakes.

“Morning, Daddy!” she chirped, hopping onto her chair at the kitchen table.

Eddie turned around, a spatula in hand, and grinned at his daughter. “Morning, princess. You’re up early today.”

Selene beamed, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “I wanted to see you before you go to work. Are you picking me up today?”

Eddie shook his head as he slid a pancake onto a plate and handed it to Selene. “Not today, sweetie. Auntie Robin’s going to pick you up, remember? I have a late shift.”

“Oh, right,” Selene said, her mind already racing with thoughts of her plan. “Daddy, can we go to school a little earlier today? I want to show you something.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow, curious. “Earlier? How early?”

“Like… really early,” Selene said, trying to sound casual. “Maybe before you usually leave for work?”

Eddie laughed, ruffling her hair affectionately. “Alright, but not too early. I still need to get ready for work.”

Eddie pulled up to the school, glancing at the clock. They were a bit earlier than usual, but not by much. He parked the car and turned to Selene.

“Okay, we’re here. What did you want to show me?” he asked.

“Actually, Daddy, I just wanted to spend a little more time with you,” Selene said, giving him her most innocent smile.

Eddie’s heart melted. “Alright, let’s go inside.”

As they walked towards the school entrance, they spotted you, rushing around with a stack of papers in your hands. You looked frazzled and stressed, clearly having a hectic morning.

Selene tugged on Eddie’s hand. “Look, Daddy! There’s Sunshine!”

Eddie’s eyes widened. “Selene, wait—”

But it was too late. Selene had already run over to you, waving enthusiastically. “Hi, Sunshine!”

You looked up, startled. “Oh, hi Selene. Good morning, Mr. Munson.”

Eddie gave an awkward wave. “Morning. Sorry, we’re here a bit early today.”

You forced a smile, clearly in a rush. “It’s alright, but I’m kind of busy right now. I have a meeting to get to.”

Selene, undeterred, piped up. “Daddy wanted to talk to you again!”

Eddie’s face flushed with embarrassment and a hint of anger. “Selene, I didn’t—”

Just then, another teacher approached you, whispering urgently in your ear. You glanced at Eddie and Selene, then at your watch, your frustration mounting.

“I’m really sorry, but I need to go,” you said, trying to keep your voice calm. “Maybe another time?”

Eddie nodded, feeling awkward and out of place. “Yeah, of course. Sorry to bother you.”

As you turned to leave, Eddie realized that in his haste to follow Selene, he had parked his car in a way that was now blocking yours. You tried to get into your car, only to see that you couldn’t back out.

“Seriously?” you muttered under your breath, turning back to Eddie with a frown. “Mr. Munson, your car is blocking mine.”

Eddie’s face turned red, a mix of frustration and embarrassment boiling inside him. “Oh, crap. I’m so sorry. I’ll move it right now.”

You sighed, your frustration clear. “I’m going to be late for a really important meeting because of this.”

Eddie hurried to move his car, his movements jerky and tense. The damage was done; you were visibly upset, and he could feel the tension building. As soon as he reparked, you got into your car, throwing him one last irritated glance before driving off.

Selene stood by the curb, her face falling as she watched the scene unfold. Eddie walked back to her, his expression a mixture of anger and embarrassment.

“Daddy, I—”

Eddie cut her off, his tone harsher than he intended. “Selene, what were you thinking? You can’t just drag me over to talk to Sunshine.”

Selene’s eyes welled up with tears, her lower lip trembling. “I just wanted you to be happy, Daddy…”

Eddie’s anger softened, replaced by a pang of regret. He knelt down and pulled her into a hug, feeling her small body shake with sobs. “I know, baby. I know. But we need to think things through before we act. You can’t just spring stuff like this on people.”

Selene sniffled, nodding against his chest. “I’m sorry, Daddy.”

Eddie sighed, rubbing her back gently. “It’s okay, Sel. Let’s just get you to class, alright? We’ll figure this out.”

As he walked Selene to her classroom, Eddie couldn’t shake the feeling of frustration and embarrassment. This wasn’t how he wanted things to go, and now he had made things even more awkward with you. The misunderstanding was only growing, and he worried about how they would ever get past it.

Later that day, Auntie Robin arrived to pick up Selene. She noticed Eddie’s tense expression and Selene’s subdued demeanor.

“What happened?” Robin asked, concerned.

Eddie sighed. “Long story. Selene tried to play matchmaker again, and it didn’t go well.”

Robin shook her head with a sympathetic smile. “Kids, huh? Don’t worry, dingus. It’ll work out eventually.”

Eddie nodded, hoping she was right. As he watched Robin drive away with Selene, he couldn’t help but wonder how he was going to fix this mess. And more importantly, how he could protect Selene’s heart in the process.

He spent the rest of the day feeling uneasy. As he went through his work shift, his mind kept drifting back to the incident at school. He couldn’t shake the image of your frustrated expression or Selene’s teary eyes. He knew he had to make things right.

During his lunch break, Eddie sat in the break room, staring at his phone. The idea of apologizing made his stomach churn with nerves, but he knew it was the right thing to do. He dialed Robin’s number, hoping for some advice.

“Hey, dingus! How’s it going?” Robin’s cheerful voice greeted him.

“Hey, Robin. I need your help with something,” Eddie replied, his voice heavy with the weight of his thoughts.

“Sure, what’s up?” she asked, sensing his seriousness.

Eddie took a deep breath. “It’s about this morning. Selene and I had a bit of a run-in with her teacher. It was really awkward and… I kind of snapped at Selene.”

Robin listened patiently as Eddie recounted the events of the morning. “Sounds like a rough start to the day,” she said sympathetically. “But hey, kids have big hearts and even bigger imaginations. Selene was just trying to help.”

“I know,” Eddie sighed. “I feel terrible. I need to apologize to her, but I just don’t know how to go about it.”

“Well,” Robin began thoughtfully, “why don’t you write her a note? Explain what happened and say you’re sorry. It’ll show you’re sincere.”

Eddie nodded, feeling a bit of relief at having a plan. “Thanks, Robin. I’ll do that.”

After work, Eddie picked up Selene from Robin’s house. As they drove home, Selene sat quietly in the back seat, her earlier enthusiasm dampened by the morning’s events.

“Hey, Sel,” Eddie said softly, glancing at her in the rearview mirror. “I’m going to write a note to Miss Sunshine to apologize. Do you want to help me?”

Selene’s eyes brightened a little. “Can I draw a picture for her too?”

Eddie smiled. “That’s a great idea, princess. I’m sure she’d love that.”

Once they were home, Eddie and Selene sat at the kitchen table. Eddie began writing the note while Selene drew a colorful picture of their family, complete with you standing next to them with a big smile.

Eddie’s note:

"Dear Y/n,

I wanted to apologize for the misunderstanding this morning. Selene and I didn’t mean to cause any trouble. She was just excited, and I didn’t handle the situation as well as I should have. I’m really sorry for blocking your car and making you late for your meeting.

Thank you for your understanding, and I hope we can move past this.

Sincerely, Eddie Munson"

Eddie read the note out loud to Selene, who nodded approvingly. “That sounds good, Daddy.”

“Alright, let’s put this together,” Eddie said, taping Selene’s drawing to the note. “We’ll give it to her tomorrow.”

The next morning, Eddie felt a mix of nervousness and anxiety as he and Selene arrived at the school. They waited until you had a free moment, then approached you with the note and drawing in hand.

“Hey,” Eddie began, his voice earnest. “I wanted to give you this. It’s an apology for yesterday.”

You took the note and drawing, your expression softening as you read Eddie’s heartfelt words and admired Selene’s artwork.

“Thank you, Mr. Munson,” you said, smiling at Selene. “And thank you, Selene, for the beautiful drawing.”

Eddie felt a wave of relief wash over him. “I’m really sorry for everything. It won’t happen again.”

You nodded, the tension between you easing. “I appreciate the apology. Let’s just start fresh, okay?”

Eddie smiled, feeling hopeful for the first time in days. “Sounds good to me. Have a great day, Miss Sunshine.”

The school day was moving along smoothly, but you couldn’t help but notice that Selene seemed quieter than usual. Typically, she was a bundle of energy, chatting with friends and eagerly participating in activities. Today, however, she was more subdued, her usual spark dimmed.

During arts and crafts time, Selene sat at her table, her crayons barely moving across the paper. You watched her for a moment, concern growing. Deciding to check in, you walked over and knelt beside her.

“Hey, Selene,” you said softly. “What are you drawing?”

She looked up at you with big, sad eyes. “I’m drawing my family,” she said quietly. On the paper, you saw a simple drawing of a house, with stick figures representing her and her dad. There was also a faint outline of a figure beside them, but it was left unfinished.

“That’s a lovely drawing,” you said, trying to encourage her. “Who’s that?” you asked, pointing to the unfinished figure.

Selene hesitated, her lip quivering. “I wanted to draw my mom, but I don’t really know what she looks like.”

Your heart ached for her. You knew from previous conversations with Eddie that Selene’s mother wasn’t in the picture, but seeing the impact it had on her was heartbreaking. You placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay, Selene. Your drawing is beautiful just the way it is.”

She gave a small nod, but her eyes remained downcast. “I just wish I knew her,” she whispered.

You took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. “I know it’s hard, sweetie. But you have your dad, and he loves you very much. And you have all of us here, too.”

Selene offered a small smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Thanks, Miss.”

The rest of the day, you kept an eye on her, making sure she felt included and supported. As the school day ended, you saw Eddie arrive to pick her up. You decided it might be a good idea to talk to him about Selene’s mood.

“Hi, Mr. Munson,” you greeted him as he approached.

“Hi,” he replied, managing a smile. “How was Selene today?”

You hesitated, not wanting to alarm him but feeling it was important to share. “She was a bit quieter than usual. I think she might be feeling a bit down.”

Eddie’s brow furrowed in concern. “Really? Did she say why?”

“She mentioned something about her mom,” you said gently. “I think she’s just having a hard time with it.”

Eddie sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, she asked me about her mom other day, I tried to explain, but it’s tough. She doesn’t understand why her mom isn’t around.”

You nodded, understanding the difficult position he was in. “If there’s anything I can do to help, please let me know.”

“Thanks,” Eddie said, his gratitude evident. “I appreciate it.”

As they walked away, you couldn’t help but feel a deep empathy for both Eddie and Selene.

Later that evening, as you prepared for bed, you couldn’t stop thinking about Selene’s sad eyes and Eddie’s worried expression. You resolved to keep an extra close eye on Selene in the coming days, doing whatever you could to bring a bit of sunshine back into her life.

Over the next few days, Selene’s sadness seemed to deepen. Her usually bright eyes were often downcast, and her infectious laughter was rarely heard. It was as if a cloud had settled over her, and it worried you deeply.

In class, she no longer eagerly raised her hand to answer questions or shared her imaginative stories with the group. She would sit quietly, barely engaging in activities that she used to love. During recess, instead of running around with her friends, she would find a quiet corner to sit and watch the other kids play.

One morning, as you were preparing for the day’s lessons, you noticed Selene sitting alone on the swings. She was gently swaying back and forth, her gaze fixed on the ground. You decided to take a moment to check on her.

“Hey, Sel,” you said softly, sitting on the swing next to her. “Do you want to talk about what’s been bothering you?”

Selene shrugged, not meeting your eyes. “I miss my mom,” she said quietly. “I don’t even know her, but I miss her.”

Your heart broke for her. “I know it’s really hard, sweetie. It’s okay to feel sad and miss someone, even if you haven’t met them.”

She nodded, her small hands gripping the chains of the swing tightly. “Daddy tries to make me feel better, but I can tell he’s sad too.”

You sighed, wishing there was more you could do to ease her pain. “You know, Selene, you have a lot of people who care about you. Your dad and all your friends here. We’re all here for you.”

She gave a small nod, but the sadness in her eyes remained.

Eddie was at his wit's end. He’d noticed the change in Selene’s behavior, and it tore him apart. She was his world, and seeing her so downcast made him feel helpless. Every evening, he tried to cheer her up with her favorite activities – watching Disney movies, playing dress-up, reading her favorite bedtime stories – but nothing seemed to lift her spirits.

One night, as he tucked her into bed, he tried to talk to her again. “Selene, sweetie, I can tell you’ve been really sad lately. Can you tell me what’s going on?”

Selene looked up at him with teary eyes. “I just miss my mom, Daddy. I don’t understand why she’s not here.”

Eddie’s heart ached. He wished he could give her the answers she needed. “I know, sweetheart. I wish I could change things, but sometimes people make choices that hurt us, even if they don’t mean to.”

Selene sniffled, wiping her eyes. “Will she ever come back?”

Eddie swallowed hard, feeling the weight of her question. “I don’t know, Sel. But what I do know is that I love you more than anything, and I’m always going to be here for you.”

Selene nodded, her little face still filled with sadness. “I love you too, Daddy.”

As she drifted off to sleep, Eddie sat by her bedside, feeling a mixture of anger and sorrow. He hated that he couldn’t make things better for her, that he couldn’t erase the pain of her mother’s absence.

The following day, Eddie arrived at school early, looking more haggard than usual. You could see the worry etched on his face as he walked Selene to her classroom. After she settled in, he approached you, running a hand through his hair.

“Hey,” he began, his voice strained. “I’m really worried about Selene. She’s been so sad, and I don’t know what to do.”

You nodded, understanding his concern. “I’ve noticed it too. She’s been very quiet and withdrawn. Have you thought about maybe talking to a counselor? It might help her to have someone to talk to about her feelings.”

Eddie sighed, leaning against the doorframe. “Yeah, I’ve thought about it. I just want to fix it myself, you know? I hate seeing her like this.”

“I know,” you said softly. “But sometimes, we all need a little extra help. It doesn’t mean you’re not doing enough; it just means that there are people who can support you both.”

He nodded, looking down the hallway where Selene was sitting quietly at her desk. “I’ll think about it. Thanks, Y/n.”

As the days continued, you kept a close eye on Selene, doing your best to engage her in class and offering her extra support. 

As the days passed and Selene’s sadness persisted, an idea sparked in your mind. Maybe a change of scenery and a special treat would help lift her spirits. You approached Eddie one afternoon after school, catching him as he was picking up Selene from her classroom.

“Hey, Mr. Munson,” you greeted him with a warm smile. “I was thinking, maybe Selene could use a little outing to the park this weekend. How about we take her for some ice cream?”

Eddie looked at you, surprise flickering in his tired eyes. “Ice cream?”

You nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah! Sometimes a little treat and some fresh air can do wonders. What do you think?”

Eddie glanced down at Selene, who was quietly packing her backpack. He could see the traces of sadness lingering on her face. “I think that sounds like a great idea,” he said finally, offering you a grateful smile.

Eddie watched as Selene perked up at the mention of ice cream. Her eyes lit up with a spark of excitement that he hadn’t seen in days. He couldn’t remember the last time they had gone out for a treat like that together. Maybe this was just what she needed.

That weekend, Eddie and Selene met you at the park. The sun was shining brightly, casting a warm glow over the playground. Selene ran ahead, eager to explore the swings and slides while you and Eddie followed close behind.

“You’re really good with her, you know,” Eddie said as he watched Selene climb onto the swings.

You smiled, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “She’s a special girl. Just trying to help.”

Eddie nodded, grateful for your support. “I appreciate it. And thanks for suggesting this. I think it’s just what she needed.”

As Selene laughed and played, her laughter echoing through the park, Eddie felt a weight lift off his shoulders. For the first time in days, he saw a glimmer of joy in her eyes. Maybe things would be okay after all.

Watching Selene laugh and play brought a sense of joy to your heart. She deserved moments like this – carefree and happy. You glanced at Eddie, seeing the relief on his face as he watched his daughter.

“I’m glad she’s enjoying herself,” you said softly, leaning closer to Eddie.

He nodded, his gaze never leaving Selene. “Yeah, me too. Thanks for suggesting this.”

“It’s my pleasure,” you replied sincerely. “If there’s anything else I can do to help, just let me know.”

Eddie turned to you, a grateful smile spreading across his face. “You’ve already done a lot. I appreciate it.”

As the afternoon wore on, you and Eddie joined Selene on the playground, pushing her on the swings and chasing her around the jungle gym. For a few hours, Selene’s sadness seemed to melt away, replaced by laughter and the simple joy of being a kid.

As the sun began to set, you all sat on a bench, enjoying the last rays of warmth. Eddie glanced at you, his eyes softening with gratitude. “Thanks for today,” he said quietly. “It meant a lot to both of us.”

You smiled warmly. “Anytime, Eddie. She’s lucky to have you.”

He nodded, a hint of emotion in his voice. “And we’re lucky to have you too.”

After their afternoon at the park, Eddie noticed a slight change in Selene. She seemed more like herself again, her laughter returning and a sparkle in her eyes. It gave him hope that maybe things were turning around.

That evening, as they settled in for dinner, Selene looked up at Eddie with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Daddy, can we invite Miss Y/n to come over for dinner sometime? And maybe we can watch Disney movies together?"

Eddie paused, caught off guard by Selene's request. He glanced at her, unsure of how to respond. The idea of spending more time with you outside of school was both appealing and nerve-wracking. But seeing the hopeful look on Selene's face, he couldn't bring himself to say no.

"Sure, Sel," Eddie replied with a small smile. "I can ask Miss Y/n if she'd like to join us sometime."

The next day at school, you were surprised when Eddie approached you after class. He seemed a bit nervous, scratching the back of his neck as he spoke.

"Hey, Y/n," Eddie started, his voice slightly hesitant. "So, uh, Selene mentioned something last night..."

You raised an eyebrow, curious about what Selene had said. "Oh? What did she say?"

Eddie cleared his throat, trying to keep his tone casual. "She asked if you would like to come over for dinner sometime. And maybe we could watch some Disney movies together."

Your heart warmed at Selene's invitation. "That sounds like a lot of fun, Eddie. I'd love to join you and Selene for dinner."

Eddie smiled, relief evident on his face. "Great. How about this Friday? I can cook something, and we can pick out a couple of Selene's favorite movies to watch."

You nodded, feeling excited about the prospect of spending more time with them outside of school. "Friday sounds perfect. I'm looking forward to it."

As you walked away, you couldn't help but smile to yourself. Selene's idea had sparked something hopeful in both Eddie and yourself.

Friday evening arrived faster than Eddie anticipated. He had spent the entire week trying to decide on a menu that would impress you without overdoing it. Cooking wasn't his forte, but for Selene's sake—and now yours—he was determined to make a good impression.

As he chopped vegetables in the kitchen, Selene sat at the dining table, coloring a picture of her favorite Disney princess. Eddie stole glances at her every now and then, grateful for her infectious enthusiasm that kept his nerves at bay.

"Daddy, are you nervous?" Selene suddenly asked, looking up from her drawing.

Eddie chuckled nervously, wiping his hands on a dish towel. "Maybe a little. I just want everything to go well tonight."

Selene smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry, Daddy. she likes you and me. She'll have fun."

Eddie's heart warmed at Selene's words. He hoped she was right. Just then, the doorbell rang, and Eddie felt a jolt of nerves shoot through him. Taking a deep breath, he hurried to answer it.

You stood nervously outside Eddie's door, fidgeting with the hem of your sweater. Despite your efforts to remain calm, your heart raced with anticipation. You had been looking forward to this evening all week, eager to spend more time with Eddie and Selene outside of school.

When Eddie opened the door, your breath caught in your throat at the sight of him. He wore a simple button-up shirt and jeans, looking handsome and slightly flustered with a hint of a smile on his lips.

"Hey, Y/n," Eddie greeted you warmly, though you detected a touch of nervousness in his voice.

"Hi, Eddie," you replied with a smile, trying to hide your own nerves. "I brought some dessert."

Eddie stepped aside to let you in, and you entered the cozy apartment, greeted by the inviting aroma of something delicious cooking in the kitchen. Selene rushed over, her face lighting up with excitement.

"Miss Y/n, you're here!" she exclaimed, hugging you tightly. "Come see what Daddy's making!"

You laughed, returning her hug warmly. "I can't wait to see, Selene."

As you followed Selene into the kitchen, Eddie busied himself with setting the table, stealing glances at you whenever he thought you weren't looking. He couldn't help but feel a mixture of nervousness and excitement at having you here with them.

"So, um, how was your day?" Eddie asked awkwardly, trying to make conversation as he stirred a pot on the stove.

You smiled, appreciating his effort. "It was good, thank you. How about you? Busy day at work?"

Eddie nodded, a hint of relief in his voice. "Yeah, pretty busy. But I managed to leave early to get everything ready."

The three of you settled into an easy rhythm, chatting and laughing as Eddie finished cooking. Selene eagerly showed you her latest drawings and told you all about her favorite Disney movies. Eddie couldn't help but notice how comfortable you seemed with them both, and it eased some of his initial nerves.

Finally, dinner was ready, and Eddie served up the meal he had prepared—a hearty pasta dish with a side of garlic bread. As you all sat down to eat, the conversation flowed naturally, filled with laughter and shared stories.

Eddie caught himself stealing glances at you throughout the evening, feeling a warmth spread through him every time your eyes met. He was grateful that Selene had suggested this, bringing you all together in a way that felt natural and comforting.

As the evening drew to a close, Eddie cleared the table while you and Selene curled up on the couch to watch a Disney movie. Eddie joined you both after cleaning up, sitting on the other end of the couch with a contented sigh.

As the movie played, Selene nestled against you, occasionally glancing up at Eddie with a knowing smile. 

After a delightful evening of dinner and Disney movies, Selene yawned and rubbed her eyes sleepily. "I'm tired, Daddy," she murmured, pushing herself up from the couch.

Eddie smiled warmly at her. "Alright, princess. Time for bed."

Selene nodded, giving you a sleepy wave. "Goodnight, Sunshine. Thanks for coming over."

You returned her wave with a gentle smile. "Goodnight, Selene. It was my pleasure."

As Selene disappeared into her room, Eddie settled back on the couch, his expression relaxed yet thoughtful. He glanced at you, a slight nervousness evident in his eyes.

"That was... really nice," Eddie said, breaking the quiet that had settled over them.

You nodded, feeling a sense of contentment in the air. "Yeah, it was. Selene's a sweet kid."

Eddie chuckled softly. "She is. And she really likes you, you know."

You felt a warmth spread through you at his words. "I like her too."

There was a brief pause as Eddie seemed to gather his thoughts. Finally, he spoke again, his voice soft but determined. "Y/n, I... I've been wanting to ask you something."

Your heart skipped a beat, sensing the seriousness in Eddie's tone. "What is it, Eddie?"

He met your gaze, his eyes searching yours. "Would you... would you like to go out with me sometime? Just the two of us?"

You felt a rush of emotions—surprise, happiness, and a touch of nervousness. But above all, there was a genuine warmth in Eddie's request that made your decision easy.

"I'd love to, Eddie," you replied sincerely, a smile spreading across your face. "I'd really like that."

Relief washed over Eddie's features, followed by a shy smile. "Great. How about we plan something for next weekend?"

You nodded eagerly. "That sounds perfect."

You realized it was late and got up to leave, at the door, Eddie's nervousness melted away as he leaned in slightly, pressing a gentle kiss on your cheek. It was brief but filled with unspoken warmth and the promise of more to come. You smiled softly at him, feeling a rush of happiness as you realized this was the beginning of something special between you.

"Goodnight, Sunshine," Eddie murmured, his voice tinged with affection.

"Goodnight, Eddie," you replied softly, your heart fluttering with anticipation for the days ahead.

It was a perfect end to a memorable evening, and you couldn't wait to see what the future held for all three of you.

Taglist: @birdysaturne @ali-r3n @maedesculpaeusoubi @borhapparker @peachysink @jadeylovesmarvelxo @marvelcasey05 @micheledawn1975 @kissmyacid @bells-28 @gagasbee @mykuup @happilyeverafterforme @missingbillyhargrove

[notjustjavierpena]

Ubi tu Gaius, ego Gaia: Chapter II

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: I'm so sorry for the very long wait. I ended up separating the chapter into two parts because it ended up being 13k. Hope you can forgive me!

Chapter Summary: In which you get married to the General. 

Pairing: General Marcus Acacius x f!reader/you (no y/n)

Chapter warnings: +18, arranged marriage, historical sexism, probably historical inaccuracies, large age gap, religion in the form of Roman Gods, shitty parents, anxieties over wedding night

Word count: 5k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57443332/chapters/151335016#workskin

Chapter II: A wonderful day for a wedding

Due to the warm night, it doesn’t surprise you when dawn brings the most beautiful sunrise all year. The landscape outside is bathed in gold and when you gently guide a lost bee out of your bedroom window, you feel the warmth of the sunshine prickle your skin.

You have a great deal to do before the carriage ride to the Acacius estate, so you hurry through breakfast - bread and cheese with herbs - to make sure there are enough hours in the morning for your bath, your grooming, and your dress preparations. 

You gently wash off the sweat and sleep from last night by rubbing slow circles down your arms, legs, and chest with a piece of soaked cloth. The excitement pools in your belly as you focus on the dream wedding belonging to the little girl in your heart happening today. The fact that it is arranged by your parents doesn’t diminish the fact that your tunic is beautiful and the festivities will be worthy of the Gods. You have no tears and concerns for Cassius left, you say to yourself, or at least, you’re not allowing yourself to have any left. 

“A perfect day for a wedding,” your mother says as she brings you more water for your bath instead of the maids, pouring the freshly hot water into the tub by your feet. Afterward, she moves to sit on a chair behind you to wash your hair. 

“Mother,” you say while she tilts your head forward, pouring water over the back of your neck, “I want jasmine flowers in the wedding crown, can we please have a maid pick some from the garden? Marcus— I mean, General Acacius will be impressed if I remember our conversation from yesterday.” 

The warm water feels soothing as it cascades down your shoulders, even more soothing is your mother’s fingers detangling your hair with practiced care. You spot her in the full-body mirror along the wall, her face sporting an affectionate smile, “Jasmine is his favorite? The General told you this? He must like you, my daughter.” 

“Mother, we barely know each other,” you let out a little laugh and turn your head back to look up at her. She grins down at you, smoothing her palm over your wet hair to squeeze out some excess water.

“Yet you already care what he thinks,” she points out with a slight hint of teasing. You splash a few drops of water in her direction and she acts outraged in only the way a mother can. The both of you laugh, the bubbling feeling warm in your chest until you also feel melancholic. The feeling that you should have had last night comes creeping up on you now.

“I’m gonna miss you and father,” you say softly and she wraps her arms around you from behind, not caring about getting her clothes wet if it means squeezing you enough to make you feel how much she loves you.

“I’ve been through this two times already. You know we still see both of your sisters. I am not sending you off to another country,” she soothes, rocking you from side to side and pecking the top of your head. You reach up to hold her wrist. 

“I know this but I’m the last bird leaving the nest,” you reply with eye contact in the mirror, corners of your mouth turning downward. You sigh quietly. 

“And father and I will finally be able to have some peace around here,” she tries to make you laugh again. When it doesn’t happen, the tone of her voice changes into something more serious, “I know everything feels safe and familiar here but you will grow to love your new life. Change is good.”

“I still feel like a child,” you lean back into her and stare down at the water that is growing colder, “You should have seen me trying to have a conversation with him yesterday. He is much older and more experienced than I am. I made a fool of myself not just once.”

“Listen to me, dearest,” she releases you from the confines of her arms and lifts your head to find your gaze in the mirror again, “I know that this is not a matter of love. I understand, my dear. This union is a great responsibility, but it can also be an even greater source of joy and strength for you. Your father and I have always wanted what’s best for you, even in situations where it might seem like it is only to our own advantage. Yet think about the possibilities this match will bring you; you will be the wife of a general. You can do anything.”

You nod with an understanding that is still marked by sorrow for the life you will leave behind, the dream of true love delivered by Cupid himself that will not be fulfilled now, “Yes, Mother.”

“And I will say this with confidence,” she continues, now with a gleam of pride in her eyes, “You are not a child, in fact, you have grown into a remarkable young woman. One that you can be very proud of. I know I am.”

A smile tugs at the corners of your mouth and eventually, you cannot hold back the breath of air that you have been holding. Your eyes are watery, your mouth grinning with teeth from being reassured so affectionately by your mother. You suppose that you can get through this day with those words playing on your mind, “You had that rehearsed, did you not?”

“Not at all, came straight from the heart,” she giggles and gets up from her seat. She walks to stand at your side, offering you her hand, “Now, let’s get you out of the tub and make you more beautiful than even Goddess Venus herself. Today is a celebration of everything you’ve become and everything you will achieve with your husband. However, remember that General Acacius is even more fortunate to have you and your heart by his side.”

“Thank you, Mother,” you say as she helps you to your feet, holding you steady as you step over the edge of the bathtub. 

She wraps a linen cloth around you, “I’ll send for the flowers right away. The tailor has already been with your tunic this morning, I’ve had the maids hang it in your room.” 

“Perfect,” you smile. You leave the bathroom while another ancilla - a maid - empties the tub, hangs the linen towel to dry, and mops excess water from the floor. 

As you make your way back to your bedroom, you notice your home is abuzz with servants doing all sorts of tasks to ensure a perfect day. They pass you with kind smiles and congratulations, carrying wine in jugs and baskets of fruit and vegetables, freshly baked bread, and flowers for decorating. 

You think back to Marcus’ beautiful garden, wondering how it is taking shape to be the venue for your union. The red roses are sure to compliment your red veil, the marble the golden embroidery on your tunic too. 

But then, as you enter your room, you think about Cassius’ words from last night. In less than a day, you will belong to one of the most powerful families in all of the empire and despite this, it sounded like it did not ensure you the safety that your father had foreseen with this match. Quite the contrary, it seems like you are getting into something that’ll wash the pink and fluffy clouds away. 

However, the concerned thoughts last only a moment as your gaze falls on the beautiful tunic hanging on the wall, just out of the sun’s rays. You smile and sigh, brushing the woven fabric delicately with your hand. It is long and white, embroidered with squared patterns along the shoulder seams and down the short sleeves. You know that Marcus’ own attire will have the same stitching and color, signaling that the two of you are weaved together from now on. 

The veil hangs beside it and is as red as the fires that you have seen built for sacrifices to the Gods. Your mother has taught you enough during wedding preparations for you to know exactly what it is supposed to symbolize; you will be given to General Acacius today and you will belong to him in the same manner as the many gifts that have been given to the many Roman deities, like the coin you tossed in the fountain for Fortuna. 

After taking the tunic off the hook on the wall, you let the linen around your body fall to the floor and slip your wedding attire on. You sit down on the chair by your vanity and gaze at your reflection in the mirror, staring at the woman you have become in such a short time.

You adjust the neckline of the garment, smoothing out any crease that makes you seem less than perfect and then you grab your hairbrush to start detangling your hair. After having brushed your hair for a while and getting lost in the mindless task, a knock on your door distracts your thoughts. 

You quickly get up to hurriedly step behind the room divider in the corner, not wanting to reveal your look before it has gotten its final touches or in case the person seeking entry is your father. 

“Come in,” you say when you are hidden from view. 

However, it is your mother again who carries the wedding crown, which has now gotten beautiful jasmine flowers weaved into it. From the sound of the different footsteps, you deduce that she is followed by two servant girls who have come to help you with the remaining details of your outfit.

“I brought Lupa and Nidia to help you,” she chirps, hands the wedding crown to Lupa with the utmost care, and then gently sits down on the chair by the vanity. She waits as the girls join you behind the screen, “Quickly now, we have to be ready to go in half an hour.”

Nidia has gotten the veil from its spot on the wall, now draping it over the top of your head while Lupa secures it with the flower crown. You can smell the jasmine, feel the soft fabric of the red veil brush your bare arms, and suddenly, the weight of today begins to bear down on your shoulders. You swallow thickly as you look at yourself in the full-body mirror. This summer has changed you since you got the news of your arranged union, and suddenly, as you look at yourself at this moment, you are surprised to see that a bride stares back at you. 

“You look perfect,” Nidia says softly as if sensing your nervousness. She holds your gaze in the mirror and smiles a little when Lupa joins in with a happy, agreeing nod, the both of them adjusting the veil to cascade down your back gracefully. 

“Thank you,” you say gratefully and relax a bit more. At least how you look is going to be talked about the most but then again, will this enhance your future husband’s desire? What will happen when he gets you alone in his chambers? You shake the thought, not used to the idea of being perceived in such a fashion even if you tasted the idea yesterday, “Okay, I think I am ready.”

As you step out from behind the divider, your mother radiates maternal pride and clasps her hands together, “Oh, by Venus, you are radiant! I don’t know what your father was doing with all his worry.”

You try not to overthink that statement and act casual, very much aware that you have not seen him today. Instead, you ask, “Where is father?” 

“He has gone back and forth between our home and the General’s many times today. I suppose that he wants everything to be perfect for you and make you happy,” she keeps her voice high-pitched and cheerful but you can feel your gut telling you that she isn’t completely convinced either. She may have been making jest of you being the last of her daughters to marry but you know that your father sees you as more of a chess piece - the final move out of three - than his blood.

In your wedding attire, sparkling as Lupa gets the box of jewelry and Nadia adorns you in gold, you think again of the way your father had handled the negotiations of your marriage; how little concern he had shown for your thoughts on the matter, and, possibly without intending to, made it clear that this isn’t about love or even your happiness. It is about influence, power, and ascension to something right under the Gods.

“He’s always wanted things to be perfect for us,” you say with a forced smile, though your mother doesn’t seem to notice the strain on your face, “Ever since we were little, it was always about making sure we made the right connections, the right alliances.”

Your mother looks up at you, not quite as oblivious as she tries to convince you of. Her smile softens, “It’s just his way, my dear. He wants the best for you, for all of us, and you like the General! I can tell.”

The best for him, perhaps. You dare ask a question that can only exist between women who understand that you live in a world ruled by men. “Mother, do you think he would have arranged this if General Acacius had been… cruel?”

The silence that follows is thick, and in that moment, you realize that the answer may not be one you want to hear. You stare at her, brows furrowed as you wait for her to say something, but in the end, she avoids your gaze completely. 

“It is time to leave,” she says instead and turns to Lupa and Nidia who have gone completely quiet, “My daughter needs escorting to the carriage. We cannot keep my husband waiting so close to the time of the ceremony.”

You swallow thickly but do not protest, a heavy feeling in your stomach as you are led out of your home, taking in the details of the surroundings that you grew up in for what feels like the last time.

—

Upon arrival at Marcus' estate, you are greeted by who you assume will be your new maid. Ismene is her name, a woman not much older than yourself but with rougher hands, the kind that have known hard labor. She wears a plain tunic and her hair tied back in a braid, curtsying as you step out of the carriage. 

You hear your mother tell Lupa and Nidia to stay back in case it’ll insult Ismene that you have brought maids from your home but Ismene just smiles, her eyes flicking up at you as she bows to catch a glimpse of who she will be serving from now on. 

“My lady,” she greets after stretching to her full height again, a twinkle in her gaze and a gut feeling telling you that she has no ill will towards you, “Everything is ready for you. The General has requested that you go to the gardens immediately where the ceremony will take place shortly.” 

She leads you and your mother through the mansion that is as beautiful as you remember it from yesterday. Except this time, seemingly overnight, the home has been decorated to be fit for festivities later. Your mother walks beside you, her expression calm, but you know her enough by now to sense the tension beneath the surface. She glances around the estate with careful eyes, not having been here before since your father refused it, and is perhaps judging the wealth and power of the man you are about to marry. Maybe, she may even be worrying for you.

You must screen your face from the sun in the gardens, but you still cannot help but notice the red roses and the ivy snaking their way around the columns that surround the spot chosen for the ceremony. Their colors are striking and beautiful against the white marble, eliciting a gasp of awe from your mother. What you also cannot help but notice is the return of the flutter of excitement that stirs in your belly, one that feels out of place among your adult worries. Everything is even more gorgeous than you had imagined in your childhood daydreams. 

“It’s beautiful, truly. The Gods have indeed favored us,” your mother praises in a whisper just as the three of you come to a halt. Ismene has stopped in her tracks just out of sight from the guests who are here to witness the marriage, and she is deliberately quiet to give you and your mother this last brief moment of privacy before everything changes. 

Your mother reaches out to gently touch your arm. In response, you turn to her and are met with her warm and reassuring smile. She cups your face and kisses your forehead. 

“Remember that father and I raised you to be strong,” she tells you with tears welling up in her eyes. You can feel your heart beating harshly against your chest as you recognize both fear and excitement on her face, and you suppose that there’s grief in her following this; her last child leaving home will be the end of her being needed. 

“Te amo in aeternum, Mamma (I love you forever, Mom),” you only just manage to say as your throat feels tight and you can hear footsteps approaching. 

You know it is your father by the commanding pace of the steps, the way the feet strike the earth with determination. He rounds the corner with a small smile on his lips as he sees you. 

“My beautiful daughter,” he greets you and immediately holds his arm out for you to take. There’s urgency in his voice even if it is tender at the sight of you, “It is time.”

“Are you ready?” Your mother interrupts, earning a glance from her husband. His presence somehow looms larger after that question, as if he wants to scoff at the thought that you could ever say no. He shakes his arm with an impatient smile when you still have not taken his arm. Clearly, this is not a moment for lingering but a moment for you to fulfill your duty.

You swallow hard and then you turn to your father. With a nod, you place your arm through his, “I’m ready.”

“Then let us not keep the General waiting,” he smiles.

The wedding ceremony is swift and takes place underneath the blazing sun of Rome. Marcus Acacius stands at the altar, his tall and broad figure exuding strength and importance. You feel drawn to the way he looks as he watches you walk down the pathway between the guests, stoic and calm in an attire that matches yours. You feel reassured by him because of this strength, that if everything fails, he will catch you.

When you stop in front of him and your father nods in a way that feels transactional, you swear that you can see his eyes soften. The officiant drones on but you don’t hear a word, the thoughts of last night when you were alone in your bed flooding your mind and causing your heartbeat to drown out noise around you. You can still feel the warmth of your own touch between your legs and it’s so consuming of your attention that you suddenly hear someone clearing their throat. 

“We will now perform the joining of hands, dear,” the officiant repeats and you can see that Marcus is already holding out his palm for you to place your own in. Your face is hot, your cheeks prickling with embarrassment but you recover by not letting it faze you. Marcus smiles ever so gently when your hand takes his and a leather band is wrapped around them. You say your promise to him like you have practiced so many times in the mirror back in your room.

Where he is your Gaius, you will be Gaia. Mother nature. The first goddess. The one who made sense of chaos. 

“Ubi tu Gaius, ego Gaia.”

–

In the early evening, the festivities begin with a banquet that makes the ones your father has hosted in the past pale in comparison. There’s people and food and people eating the food everywhere. Goblets get continuously filled by servants and bread with oil, butter, and cheese gets restocked as soon as it might look like serving platters are emptying out. However, it is not envy that you see on your parents’ faces as they take in the long table that abounds in the season’s most beautiful flowers laid out in rich displays of colors, or the most expensive foods that are replenished before anyone can take notice of their shortages, but rather pride in your mother’s eyes and some sort of distasteful greed in your father’s.

It makes you think of Cassius again, the idea of his stomach growling as he makes his way home from laboring in the fields surrounding your village. He would hate this, you think to yourself, the sight of the uppermost elite of society stuffing their faces but not for nourishment.

You look down at your hands when you start to feel bad for thinking of another man while sitting right next to your new husband. Yet Marcus doesn’t seem to notice the way your shoulders slump. He smiles warmly at each congratulations that he receives while you sit at the end of the same long table and you’re surprised to see that it comes off as genuine each time. He graciously lifts his goblet of wine as thanks, nodding to the faces of men his own age who approach with offerings and gifts. You’ve seen them steal glances at you when they think others haven’t noticed. 

You wonder if Marcus has, if he feels triumphant or enraged by the lingering appreciative stares that you receive right before they go back to their wine. 

It is to be expected with how beautiful your mother has made you for this day, you say to yourself in your new state as an object of desire, but still, you are without much appetite from being stared at. It makes you think of your wedding night and the duty that lies within it. As a comfort, you reach for your goblet of wine frequently throughout the evening and completely ignore the delicious smell of roasted meats and the sight of shiny green grapes and berries that you have on your plate. Right now, they make you feel sick. 

Sensing your discomfort, Marcus holds his hand up to stop an approaching guest and turns his attention to you. His gaze follows the movement of your hand as you lift the goblet to your slightly-stained lips once more. Gently, he reaches out and covers your hand with his, taking the cup away from you.

“No more wine. I don’t want you to feel unwell on our night together,” he says simply and firmly but there’s affection in his command, a concern for your wellbeing. It’s the first time that you see a glimpse of the man you met yesterday. He makes you fold quickly, nod with embarrassment as you in return stare sheepishly at him while he sets down the goblet out of your reach. 

“Of course, my legatus,” you hurry to say, remembering how your mother had urged you to show respect by referring to his rank. You offer him a hesitant smile, “You’re right.”

“I know this is not easy for a maiden as young as you, and I must admit that it is all very overwhelming even for me,” he gives you a smile in return, allowing himself to show brief vulnerability to ease your mind, “But there’s no need to dull your senses, Carrissima.”

“It was not my intention to make you feel like I was unappreciative—“

“I did not think you were,” he interrupts before you can tear yourself down in an effort to humble yourself. He places a hand on yours underneath the table, “Are you pleased with the celebration? I never notice if others are enjoying the festivities. I admit I seek solitude more often than company in these situations.”

“It is beautiful, I’ve never seen anything like it,” you reply with a nod and realize that you find the conversation less terrifying now. You blame your ease on the amount of wine you have already consumed, “If you want reassurance, a woman can always tell if people are enjoying themselves.”

“And what is your verdict?” Marcus brushes his thumb over the back of your hand. You hide the shiver that goes up your spine, breathe deeply to steady your heart after it has skipped at least a few beats. He must know what his touch does to you after feeling it yesterday.

A burst of laughter from a table nearby catches both of your attention. A group of guests are engaged in lighthearted discussions, chatting cheerfully with each other and getting up when the musicians strike up a song made for dancing. 

You observe them for a moment before turning back to Marcus again, but before you can answer, a man approaches your table with what you assume is more congratulations. You make a mental note to be more present in this, to show your husband and his guests that you are in favor of the union. However, the man leans in close to Marcus, whispering something in his ear. 

You notice a subtle shift in Marcus’s demeanor; the previous warmth in his eyes momentarily replaces itself with a focused seriousness. He nods at the messenger, who quickly slips away into the crowd before you can even register what he looks like.

“Is everything all right?” You ask with curiosity and concern. 

“Yes, nothing to worry about. Just a small matter that needed my attention. I apologize for the interruption,” he assures you but hardly satisfies your curiosity. The seriousness vanishes completely in favor of softness as soon as he looks at you again, “Forgive me for forgetting but I must compliment the jasmine flowers in your wedding crown. They suit my bride perfectly.”

The sudden change in his tone makes your heart flutter, and you realize how intentional his words are, as if to draw you back into the moment with him. You reach up to feel the soft petals of the flowers with your fingertips. You smile genuinely at him, shy from the compliment, “It was already weaved this morning but I remembered you mentioning that jasmine is your favorite.”

He raises an eyebrow, “You remembered our conversation.”

“I wanted to show that I was attentive,” you reply, feeling a connection that wasn’t there just a moment before.

“You’ve certainly succeeded,” he replies with a pleased grin at being surprised by you.

The sunset has crept up on you while you have been in conversation with Marcus for a while, the plate in front of you suddenly having been emptied by you without much thought. You only register the darkness of the night when guests have started to get up from their seats to say goodbye and go home, and panic starts to rise in your throat when the crowd thins out enough for Marcus to send the rest home. 

You've known this night would come, and yet as you get up from your seat, standing right in the middle of all the many tables, it feels like it is brand new information that comes hurtling towards you and frightens you even further. 

With a lump in your throat, you watch the last few faces take their leave, observing how Marcus says goodbye to what you assume are the most important guests. 

When everything is quiet except for the servants’ footsteps, your parents approach you. Your mother is the first to talk, her eyes glistening with pride. 

“My dear, it’s been a wonderful celebration,” she says, gently squeezing you in an embrace. “We’re so happy for you.”

“Thank you, Mother. I’m so grateful you were here to share it with me,” you reply, accepting her embrace warmly and almost desperately due to your anxiety. You can feel her tense up when she realizes that you are hugging her to soothe yourself but she doesn’t say anything. 

Your father stands by quietly. He only nods approvingly when Marcus joins the three of you, “A splendid event. We’re confident our daughter is in good hands.”

Marcus bows his head respectfully, “You have my word that she is.”

Your father turns to you, his expression of importance softening just a bit, “Remember what we’ve taught you, my daughter. Honor and family are paramount.”

“I understand, Father,” you assure him, avoiding his eyes. The surprisingly cool interaction between father and daughter catches Marcus’ attention, and the step he takes closer to you is almost unnoticeable. You feel his arm accidentally brushing yours but you swear that there’s a sort of protectiveness in the featherlight touch even if it is unintentional. It makes exchanging farewells easier.

“Perhaps we should retire as well,” he suggests when your parents are out of sight, “Goddess Nox has already spread her veil across the sky for a while.”

"Yes, I suppose it is time,” you glance up at the stars above, feeling the cool night air against your skin. You wish he would ground you like before.

The both of you make your way to your shared chambers. The short walk feels longer than it should, the weight of the moment pressing down on you with each step. You glance at your husband as he walks beside you, his calm and steady demeanor sharply in contrast with the growing nervousness inside you. The walls of the corridor are lined with flickering torches, and they seem to stretch on endlessly. Though nothing lasts forever and eventually you come to a halt, the door in front of you leading you to your wedding night.

This is it.

.

.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[heyaheiya]

Will you write something about single dad bakugo falling in love with his child’s daycare teacher and her or them feeling the same 🥺🥺 -🦕

Sorry this took so long 😭😭

— — — — — —

Katsuki didn’t plan on ever getting into a relationship again; just him and his darling daughter was enough for him. That was until your stupid face somehow wormed its way into his mind.

His girl, Bakugou Chiyo, had been going to daycare for a few months now, but he’d never met you officially.

As much as Mitsuki loved having the little one over most weekdays, she didn’t have all the time in the world to spend babysitting. Eijirou encouraged Katsuki to enroll Chiyo and had recommended the daycare he used for his kids. Despite Katsuki’s hesitation towards it, Eijirou wouldn’t stop pestering the man to give it a chance. Something about ‘socialisation’ or whatever. Still, Katsuki put up a good fight.

“Fuck no, you know how disgusting other people’s kids are?? I don’t want Chiyo catching rabies from those things.”

“It’s expensive, I’m not exactly rich right now you know!”

“How do I know those teachers are qualified?”

“I’m sure Chiyo’s gonna hate it so what’s the bother.”

Unfortunately, Chiyo loved it, waking up early and being pretty self sufficient for a 4 and a half year old. She even packed her bag herself before bed so it was ready the next morning. Yes it was filled with just stuffed animals, and what.

“Baby, do you seriously need all of your friends? Why not pick one?”

“But they’ll be lonely :(“

Katsuki had to write out a whole schedule of which plush goes to daycare on which day. This rotation made sure the toys all got an equal amount of days.

Chiyo had been getting chattier in the recent days. Perhaps shitty hair was right about the socialisation bit… However, at dinner that night, a new name kept coming up.

“-and I was really sad. But then, Smiley came over and made it better!”

“Who’s ’Smiley’, princess?”

“Silly daddy, you see her every day at pickup!”

That was helpful. One out of the army of children he has no time to notice.

“Tell me about Smiley. She nice to you?”

“Mhm! Today she secretly gave me a chocolate from the teacher desk :D”

Alarms went off in Katsuki’s head. Chiyo’s friends with a thief. Chiyo’s gonna turn into a criminal. Chiyo’s gonna get arrested in the future. Chiyo needs to stop being friends with this ‘Smiley’ kid!!

“What??”

“Yeah. She told me not to tell anyone or she’ll get in trouble… But you won’t tell, right daddy l?”

The next day and drop off, Katsuki stomped in, all geared up in his hero suit, with a massive scowl decorating his face. Usually Mitsuki and Masaru drop the sweetheart off in the mornings, and by the end of a long work day, Katsuki doesn’t have time to chat. So other parents and teachers had basically never had a proper conversation with the man. That sure was gonna change.

“Who is this ‘Smiley’ kid??”

The receptionist looked befuddled.

“Oh no.. what did she do?”

“Nunya goddamn business. Point me to ‘er”

A shaken older hand pointed towards a young and surprisingly pretty face across the room. Must be the kids mother.

Katsuki stomped his way over to the woman. Either she shrunk back in fear of the pro hero, or his anger made him grow a few inches.

“Oi! Who do you think you are? Letting your kids behave like that? I swear, don’t give me some shi- stupid excuse!”

“I’m so sorry! Has someone been picking on Chi-Chi?”

“Chi-Chi? Seriously nicknaming a kid that doesn’t belong to you? That’s so fuc- freaking creepy.”

Chiyo yanked at her father’s pant leg a bit.

“Don’t yell at Smiley like that >:(“

Huh. Smiley.. is the teacher. Oh. A normal person would instantly apologise, but Katsuki? Pro hero Dynamight?

“What kind of relationship do you have with my daughter??”

He made you look like a child predator in front of your entire classroom, their parents, and your boss +coworkers..To say he felt bad was an understatement, the look of your terrified and embarrassed face scarring his mind for days.

Then, Chiyo came home balling her eyes out.

“Miss Smiley wasn’t there! She left me!”

Fuck. He knew what he had to do.

+81 XXX XXX XXX: Meet me at the restaurant down the street in 10.

Y/N: What the freak

When he saw you walk in, his jaw dropped. Unfortunately, you were beautiful, like the girls on the covers of magazines. However, your cute and almost squishable face quickly turned to a glare, eyes shooting lasers through his face.

It’s silent for a long time.

“This is the part where you apologise for getting me fired.”

“Right, I’m really sorry.”

…

“Look, I love Chiyo so so much. She’s a good kid and I’m sure you can tell she’s grown an attachment to me. If it’s because you or her mother feels jealous-“

“I’m single, the mother is out of the picture.”

“Oh so you just felt like being a dick?”

“Mind your language, Sensei. Wouldn’t want any kids to develop a fowl tongue.”

“I’m the reason Chiyo doesn’t have some of your key vocabulary. Watch it, Dynamight.”

“Oh I’m so scared😒”

You instantly stood up and grabbed your purse. “If you’re just here to rub salt in the wound, I think we’re done.” Fuck. Katsuki yanked you back down into your seat, eyes begging.

“No, fuck- I can’t stop fucking this up. Sorry. I’m sorry.”

“Wanna add another f-bomb to that statement?”

“Fuck off.”

“There we go.”

Katsuki groaned to himself, wanting to kill himself right there and then.

“I came here to apologise and fix things, but I’m stupid and can’t fucking communicate!”

“There are other swear words y’know?”

“Take me seriously.”

Your face softened slightly. You seriously thought he might cry in the middle of some random ramen restaurant.

“How do I fix this??”

“Well..”

You didn’t ask for too much really. Shopping spree (clothes, jewellery, cosmetics, skincare, shoes, hair pins, the works), official apology to everyone who was in the room at the time, get job back, and a bunch of tiramisu.

After all that, you were nothing but smiles. Then it clicked. Always smiling. Miss Smiley. Damn, that was a lazy nickname.

“Chiyo was the one who came up with ‘Miss Smiley’.”

It’s the best goddamn nickname anyone has ever made.

“Is there anything else you wanna add to that long ass list of yers???”

“Perchance..”

“Well??”

“A second date?”

— — — — — — — — — — —

This is not my best, I’m sorry 😭😭 hope you enjoyed! And requests are still open. Please, I need inspiration 🙏🙏

[noemilivv]

After Reading the Proposal and Wedding One shot I think it's called?

Can I please request the same characters(Adam, Lucifer and Vox) react to there kid having there Powers and how GN Reader and Them deal with it in an everyday bases

oh my god my brain has so many ideas i’m doing this right the freak now

also i’m so sorry this isn’t necessarily gn!reader becuz this does talk about pregnancy 😭

Warnings: AFAB!reader, pregnancy talk, ooc Adam?(?), swear words, potential S1 spoilers, Vox being a bit of a shitty dad

Adam, Lucifer, Vox w/ kids who have their powers (+ extra)

Adam

You and Adam probably wait awhile after your wedding until having kids, he wants to have his party lifestyle a little longer, and cmon, who can blame him?

At first he isn’t so sure, I mean, a small ball of flesh that just cries wasn’t the most entertaining thing to him… But he’ll do it for you

But the moment you tell him your pregnant, something in him clicks.

He’s very invested in the kids before their even born, he’s reading all those cheesy and old baby books constantly, cause honestly, he’s not as prepared as he’d thought he’d be

Simply because I see Adam as both a boy dad and a girl dad let’s say you two have twins 😛

He’s a good dad not gonna lie, but let’s be real, he tried to make at least one of his kids say “feces” as their first word… yeah, you weren’t too happy. 😀

Growing up, he definitely spoiled his girl and roughhoused with his boy, maybe a bit too much…

He was definitely a baseball or softball dad

Considering Adam’s foul language, they definitely grew up at swearing at a young age, but it stayed in the house dw

As the kids grew into their early teens they discovered their shared their dads powers — and bitch was through the roof about it

Adam started training them on how to use their powers to their liking, but also taught them the safety of them. He was actually a pretty good teacher ngl.

Lucifer

Obviously, from his past marriage with Lilith, he already had his first kid, so he was ready — he was just waiting for you to be as well

So when you were, he was stoked !

He was very aware and attentive during your pregnancy, trying to not make the same mistakes he did the first time around

He’s also very understanding about mood swings and he WILL go out in the middle of the night to get you cravings, he doesn’t have to, but he will

But when you both bring another daughter Morningstar into the world, Charlie is thrilled to have a younger sister!

She definitely babysits a lot, and the child definitely spends a lot of time in the hotel

Luci dedicates certain times of the day when he can not and will not have meetings or projects to be working on so he can dedicate time to both of his daughters.

He loves asking your daughter how her day was, and how schools going, but he also asks how her friends are to stress that grades aren’t the only thing that matter

As your daughter grows, she starts to develop Lucifer’s powers, only a small fraction — considering how powerful he is, but he’s stoked that not one, but now both of his daughters have his powers!

He’s been through training them before with Charlie, so he’s pretty skilled on how to do it now, but he tends to stress to your daughter the usage of the powers and the rights and wrongs are far more important than the strength you have

Vox

Vox was in no rush to have kids due to the current workload for VoxTech, but if you wanted them, all you had to do was ask

Vox, like Adam, couldn’t really wrap his head (or screen ig??) around the concept of a child until they were in his arms.

Vox wasn’t really sure how to handle a newborn, older kids were different, but this..? Maybe this wasn’t right for him…

It broke his heart every time he heard his son sob as a new born, and to be honest, he wasn’t sure what to do.

It’d be late at night and Vox would get out of your shared bed to go make sure the baby would stop crying before you’d wake.

He’d try everything, singing, rocking, bottle, changing the diaper, toys, everything. And it wouldn’t stop.

It’s not until you stir in your sleep and hear everything, you go to your son’s crib and simply hold him and he stops crying immediately, you set your son down and go back to sleep. Vox is literally amazed.

As your son ages into the ages of 6 and up is when it starts to get easier for Vox, by the time Vox can even slightly have a conversation with the kid it gets easier, the communication is a lot more clear

He doesn’t have a lot of time to play with his son due to VoxTech, so usually Vox will keep his son in his lap as he works in his office, he’ll even ask his son business questions! Even when he only gets gibberish back, he’ll take it. Hey, don’t judge him, client feedback is important.

As his son ages into his teen years, Vox starts turning a bit strict, he needs his son to be the coolest fucking kid in school, so Velvette tailors him a shit ton of clothes and Vox makes sure his son always has the newest gadget. Vox also is strict about keeping grades up, he wouldn’t ever take anything away for a bad grade, but your son may get a bit of lecture..

All of this is building up to something though, Vox really wants your son to take over VoxTech in his adult years, so he wants to make sure his son is prepared and experienced in the new world he’d enter, if he doesn’t want, Vox gets it, he may be a bit pushy though, but Vox has been in that place so he won’t push too hard.

At around the age of 15, your son developed Vox’s hypnosis powers.

Vox teaches your son how to use this to his advantage, like for example, VoxTech, but he also stressed there’s a time and place, and to not use it on someone you truly care about. Strategy is everything.

Is Vox the perfect parent? No. But no one is. But he genuinely has so much love for his son, and tbh he wants more kids…

[astermath]

"So? Whatever." Pt.2

pairing: dave lizewski x popular!fem!reader

summary: after closing a deal with dave to let you borrow his comics while he pretends to tutor you, he finally comes over to your house. he’s confronted with the fact that despite your reputation of being damn near perfect, you have your own insecurities and issues. you’re confronted with how much you enjoy his company, despite having your reservations about him before.

word count: 2.4K

♡ LANDING PAGE ♡

notes: thank you for the likes and the reblogs, I really appreciate it! I really enjoy writing for this reader, there’s something so fun about being able to be so playfully mean. Please let me know if you’d like a part 3, and comments are greatly appreciated too!

[unknown]: hi, it’s dave! hope I typed in the right number lol

You look at your phone as it buzzed, squinting to see if you recognized the contact as you dried your hair off from the shower. You sat down on your bed and swiped up, smiling at the name. At least he didn’t forget to text. You saved his number under a new contact and started typing a reply.

[y/n]: sorry, I know a lot of daves. are you the one from the party last saturday, or the one from the football game?

[dave]: lizewski? the one who lent you the venom comic? brown hair, glasses?

You grinned to yourself, laying down on your stomach on the bed.

[y/n]: I’m just messing with ya, nerd. I remember you, how could I possibly forget?

[dave]: right

[dave]: sorry

[dave]: could you send me the address? and what type of comics you want me to bring?

You sent him your location and a couple of screenshots of your favorite franchises.

[y/n]: think you can work with that?

[dave]: yeah, totally! I’ll be there at 2 on saturday, is that ok?

[y/n]: totes, see ya then x

Dave stared down at his phone, eyes fixated on the little “x” you added to your last text. Everything from that day had already felt surreal, and now he was actually texting you. Or, well, he assumed so. This could all very well still be part of some really shitty prank, but you did seem genuine in your request. And what kind of guy would he be to just assume you were out to get him, just like all the others?

A smart one, probably.

But it was too late for second thoughts now, as he stood in front of the driveway to your house. It was huge, nothing like the houses in his neighborhood. He guessed that’s what all that lawyer money was good for. He walked up to the front door, his hand shaking a little as he reached out to ring the bell. He heard footsteps, taking a deep breath in and mentally prepared himself to be met by you as the door opened.

Instead, he was met by the eyes of an older man, slightly taller than him, who seemed less than pleased to see him at his front door. He crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow as he looked him up and down. “Can I help you, son?”

Dave gulped, hands getting clammy inside his coat’s pockets. He was not ready to be confronted by your dad, especially because he’s the one you were primarily hiding things from. “I-I’m here to tutor—”

“My daughter?” He cut him off before he could say your name. “You the kid that’s tutoring her?”

“Y-Yes sir, that’s me.” He pulled out his hand, silently cursing himself for not wiping it on his pants before because of how sweaty it was.

Your father looked down at his hand, but before he could even shake it, your voice was heard from behind him. “Daddy, that’s for me!” You walked down the stairs, making eye contact with Dave as he tried not to melt right then and there because of what you were wearing. He usually saw you wear your cute, well put together outfits at school, but seeing you in your cute comfy shorts, with your hair put up… He only realized he was staring when your dad addressed him again.

“Alright, get inside. And shoes off.”

He obliged, quickly taking his shoes off as your dad walked back into the living room.

Not long after, he was met with the sight of your room. Shelves adorned with trophies, a vanity, a queen sized bed with a TV in front of it, a plush sofa, and a huge closet… He was pretty sure he’s seen whole apartments less nice than your room. But nevermind that, he was in a girl’s room, in your room. That was intimate no matter the scenario.

You sat down on your desk chair, legs crossed as you turned it on its wheels to face the boy scanning your room. He looked like he had landed in another dimension, eyes wide as he examined his surroundings.

“What’s so interesting?” You asked, not sure if he was looking for something or if he was just genuinely this impressed by your room.

“You have… A lot of trophies…” He fidgeted with the sleeve of his shirt.

You looked over to the shelf, smiling proudly. “All from cheering.” You pointed to the tiara on the shelf above it. “Besides that one.”

He remembers when you won prom queen in your junior year, though he’s not sure if he’d count that as a trophy. He’d never tell you that, though.

“So, you gonna give me my comics or are you just here to inspect my private property?”

Your comment snapped him out of his daydreaming and he quickly took off his backpack to take out a plastic bag filled with comics. “I-I didn’t know which ones you wanted specifically, so… I just took all the ones from the franchises you showed me.” He took the pile out of the bag and you got up to take them from him.

“Careful, it’s—“

Your arms almost gave out to the sheer heft of the pile before he caught them. “Jesus christ Dave!”

“S-Sorry, sorry, I didn’t realise they weighed that much combined!” He looks panicked, hoping you didn’t hurt yourself when the weight pulled you down.

“You carried these all the way here?” You looked at him in shock. There was no way he was that strong, not without you knowing about it. “What are you, some kind of secret body builder?” You watched him put the pile down on your desk, seeing the muscles in his forearm. Maybe you were wrong, you just hadn’t been paying as much attention to Dave as you apparently should have been.

He avoided the question, simply sitting down on the carpeted floor across you with his back against the side of your bed. Frankly, he knew he’d be better off saying nothing when it came to his physique, afraid it might reveal too much relating to his vigilante activities.

You looked through the pile, finding the sequel to the previous comic you had borrowed from him and pulling it out. Dave took his own comic book out of his backpack, and when he looked back at you, something had clearly changed.

Your face was now adorned with a pair of round, thinly rimmed glasses.

He blinked a few times to make sure his own eyes weren’t deceiving him, but no, he was seeing things right.

You look up from your page and raise an eyebrow. “Didn’t your mommy ever tell you it’s rude to stare?”

“You wear glasses.” He said, eyes fixated on your face. His usual aversion to eye contact seemed to have vanished all of a sudden.

“What?” You realized you hadn’t thought about it when you put them on. You didn’t usually have company over while you were reading stuff. “Oh.” Your face suddenly felt a lot warmer, embarrassment washing over you. “Yeah, I uh… I need them to read, at least. I get through the rest of my day without em just fine, they just look so… Stupid.” You paused, looking back at his face and realizing how mean that must have sounded to him. “Not that you look stupid! You look, uh… You look smart! Real smart, it’s just… They don’t suit me and I…His expression hasn’t changed one bit since you had put on your spectacles. You looked so different, in a good way. A really good way.

“Pretty.” He muttered.

“What?” You broke out of your embarrassed rambling.

“I think you look pretty. With the glasses. They suit you.” He smiled demurely, hoping that didn’t gain him some creep points.

You stared back at him. You’d been called hot before, sexy, gorgeous… But hearing him call you pretty, it was something else. There were no intentions behind it, he just needed to say it, like it felt right. You blink, trying to cope with the fact that the nerd you thought you had an upper hand on had turned your brain to mush with a single compliment.

“Yeah, uhm… Whatever…” You went back to reading. “…thanks.”

He smiled to himself as he picked up his own comic book again. You were surprisingly fun to talk to, it was almost as if he didn’t feel like he was getting judged for everything he was saying anymore.

And he could definitely get used to that.

A few hours pass as you both peruse through the pile. The silence is comfortable, only being broken if someone flipped a page or grabbed a new comic. He looked up and saw you holding the Spider-man collector’s edition he took a page out of, seemingly very immersed in the story.

“Do you like Spider-man?” He spoke up, hoping he didn’t annoy you by taking you out of the story.

“Oh, uh…” You adjusted the glasses on your face as they kept slipping down your nose a bit. “Yeah. He’s like… pretty cool I guess.” You had so much to say about him, so much you wanted to gush about, but you couldn’t help but still feel a little ashamed about your interest.

Dave looked at you expectantly. He knew that look, the same look he had whenever someone would call him any type of name at school for being a top shelf dork.

And in that moment, you realised you both had something in common. Except he lived his life unashamedly being a dork, and you were concealing it.

“Alright, so,” You got up from your chair and sat down on the floor next to him, your shoulders touching as you held the comic to your chest. The excitement nearly poured out of you as you couldn’t contain your words, going over everything you liked about him. His background, his personality, his originally handmade suit, his unique powers…

Dave watched you speak with a dreamy smile on his face, your face glowing with happiness. He never thought you’d looked more beautiful, just unapologetically being yourself in front of him. He didn’t once try to interrupt you, he wouldn’t dare to, you just looked so cute gushing about this comic book hero.

“And the fact that… He’s just some kid, right?” You looked into his eyes as he nodded along with you. “Like, he never got any special training, or fancy gear, or anything like that. He could have lived every day of his life pretending he never got bitten by that spider, and live happily ever after, but no! He took matters into his own hands, because he wanted to make a change, because he cared about the people around him.” You smiled, not realizing you had grabbed Dave’s arm and were squeezing it a little to emphasize your words.

He blushed, feeling like that description fit his own endeavors pretty well. He looked into your eyes and for a second, felt the urge to lean in. It took about as much strength as it did to carry those comics to not do so.

You let go of his arms and held your legs close your chest. “But that upside down kiss with MJ… That’s gotta be bullshit. There’s no way you can kiss someone like that.”

“I don‘t know,” Dave responded. “I feel like it would be kinda fun. It doesn’t look that hard.”

“Oh yeah? How would you know?” You turned your head to look at him and gave him a cocky grin.

His face flushed pink and he regretted saying what he said. He just gave you the perfect bait to tease the ever living hell out of him. “W-Well, I… I can imagine that… From my experience… It’s…” He stammered.

You let out a soft giggle, amused at his embarrassment. “You’ve never kissed a girl, have you?”

Dave gulped, words stuck in his throat. But you had opened up so much to him, it wouldn’t be fair to not do the same. “I, uhm… No. I haven’t.” He let out a bit of a defeated chuckle.

An idea sprung alive in your head, a dangerous but intriguing glint in your eyes as you bit your lower lip slightly.

“Would you want to?”

Dave had heard you say a lot of shocking things, but that might just take the cake. His cheeks burned hot as the blood rushed to his face, his hands staying steady on his own thighs to not show they were trembling a little. He didn’t know what to say, this was all happening so quickly.

Before he could respond, you were leaning in, eyes on his soft lips, only inches apart—

“Sweetie! Come down for dinner!”

Your eyes snapped open and you pulled back, looking at Dave before glancing over at the door. Thank god they didn’t come up to knock, that would have been the death of you. You take a deep breath and get up, gesturing with your hand for him to do the same. “You should uh… Probably head out.”

He sat there a bit longer than he should have, a million thoughts going through his head before the sound of your voice finally got through to him. “Right, sorry… Don’t wanna overstay my welcome.” He gathered his comics and went downstairs with you to put on his shoes and coat again.

You opened the door for him and he looked back at you to say goodbye. “Thanks for having me over, I had a good time. I hope you did too.” He smiled shyly, hands in his pockets.

You smiled back, reaching up to ruffle his brown curls. “Don’t mention it. And don’t die on the way back, shit’s dangerous out there these days.”

He nodded, giving you a quick wave before heading out, the feeling in his chest warming up his entire body. He felt like he could take on anything, a feeling that would absolutely come in handy later when he’d be face to face with New York’s criminals.

You went back upstairs and sat down at your desk, noticing he’d left something. It was the special collector’s edition you’d been gushing about earlier. You ran your fingers across the damaged front page, smiling to yourself.

Dave was looking in the mirror, adjusting his costume a little and checking if he had everything he needed with him. A buzz of his phone got his attention, and a giddy boyish grin spread across his face.

[y/n]: so, same time next week? xx

@nephilimsss

(lmk if you'd like to be added to the tag list for this fic and other dave lizewski works!!)