#THIS IS THE CLOSEST YOURE GETTING TO A TIMELINE

[vladdyissues]

Do you believe in the difference in behavior between couples compared to friends? I don't mean that he is more affectionate with his partner...

If rhetorically Danny with Vlad is super serious and almost silent since he pretends that he doesn't like him in public and gets along well with his friends, Do you think Vlad noticed and talked to him privately? [I got it from a fanfic Oops]

Oh, I certainly believe there's a behavioral difference when it comes to friends versus romantic partners, especially in public. Unless the couple are being very careful—e.g., if they're celebrities or billionaires, who have paparazzi stalking them night and day, and don't want the entire world to know their personal business—there are subtle signs in body language, eye contact, and physical touch that can reveal the depth of their relationship.

For myriad reasons—not the least of which being the enormous age difference as well as Vlad's high profile status—I think Danny would be very careful about how he looks in public when he's around Vlad. Probably as carefully as Vlad would behave. If you've ever had a crush as a teenager, you know how mortifying it can be when your crush even looks in your direction.

Person 1: Oh, shit, they're walking toward me! What do I do what do I do!? Act calm! Breathe! Should I say hi? Or would that be too— Person 2: *walks past Person 1 to throw something in a trash can*

Until someone works up the courage to interact with their crush, they'll have no idea they're even being crushed on.

Vlad, though, he would notice. Not only because he's older, he's been there, he knows all about crushes, pining, and unrequited love, but because he can probably sense a lot about Danny through their ghost halves. He's probably been getting blasted with spectral love signals from the boy for months, but he deliberately ignored them until he was/is absolutely certain that he isn't misinterpreting them—because not only does that have the potential to be disastrous for him, publicly and professionally, but he doesn't want to break Daniel's heart. Vlad has had his heart broken before. For over 20 years he suffered the fallout from it. As much as he and Danny clash, he doesn't want to hurt the boy. Not so deeply, not that way.

But how would he even be able to approach Daniel to talk to him about these feelings he's been picking up on? How direct would he dare to be? Would he warn him of the dangers? Rebuff him? Tell Danny to wait? Or would Vlad, in his desperation and impatience to be loved, throw caution to the wind, accept the risks, and enter into a dangerous—but fervent, intense and spectrally powerful—relationship with Danny? I suppose that's a question each and every one of us Pompep authors ask ourselves (and answer) at some point.

[angelicstalker]

I don't know anymore

[cyberpawn]

For any of my followers who watch professional wrestling: dom (rey's son) gives me giant vibes of villain/heel vale there are many dots to connect there and I can go off about it

[lovesickhughes]

luscious locks | jack hughes

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

a/n: i, to this day, CANNOT get over this content we got of all three brothers, and the way jack looks, hello??? i would just like to preface that this has been in my drafts since AUGUST (I KNOW) and i finally was able to finish it! not my best, also only proof read once, so apologies for any mistakes, but i hope you enjoy!!! okay bye love you!

summary: jack's gorgeous hair matched with his charming personality and stunning face, leaves you drooling at his feet

warnings: makeout sesh! nothing else except for pure fluff!

word count: 2.2k

Summer seemed to be slipping away, right before the tips of your fingers. The Michigan nights were getting cooler, the sun was setting earlier, and your friends desperately attempted to fit in any last minute plans before everyone dispersed back into their routines come autumn.

That also meant for Jack and you, your time spent together that felt endless was coming to an end. The pre-season was just around the corner for the National Hockey League, which meant Jack's schedule would condense to a routine occurrence of working out with the team, morning skates and all the extra training and conditioning that went into the preparation for the upcoming season.

While the summer was able to be spent with family and friends; boating at the Hughes' lake house, trips to wineries and attending weddings of fellow teammates and pro athletes, Jack among the league's management and closest friends had to enjoy the summer fun while keeping one secret from the public.

When the Hughes brothers were offered the opportunity to be on the cover of the upcoming video game covers, the three boys were ecstatic to take upon the offer and fly to Los Angeles for media coverage. You had joined the brothers back in July for a weekend while they were taken behind the scenes and filmed content with the league's media team.

However, being restricted from sharing the exciting news for the upcoming release to the public, made your gatherings with friends a bit more difficult than anticipated. When amongst friends, and even family, the extra attention you paid to conversations and your own responses added another amount of energy that drained you. You wanted nothing more than to tell your closest people the exciting news, but with strict contracts the Hughes brothers had to sign, you knew it would all be worth the wait and biting your tongue a little harder when chiming into conversation.

Now, after the release being almost over a week ago, Jack and you had recently flown back to New Jersey in preparation of the new season. Jack was in meetings that occupied most of his days, while you were adjusting to your job, getting back into the rhythm as you did prior to the summer season.

Your friends and family had sent their congratulatory messages via text for you to pass along to Jack and his brothers for their accomplishments, and your timelines on all apps were flooded with the content you had watched be taken a few months prior.

Tonight though, Jack's and your schedule had perfectly aligned, where Jack had a few days off before the training picked up again, and your work had been all caught up for the upcoming days.

You had busied yourself in the morning, going to the farmer's market with a friend who was in town visiting, before getting coffee and reminiscing the last few summer months and what your family and you had done, and the time you spent with Jack's relatives.

While you caught up, Jack had gone to the gym, and tidied the shared apartment waiting for your arrival. When you entered through the door, the sight of your apartment scattered with candles lit, and the smell of pasta cooking coming from the kitchen, your eyebrows furrowed in worry, knowing there was a likely chance something could go wrong knowing who the chef behind the smell was.

You placed your findings from the farmer's market on the floor next to the collection of shoes that were neatly placed as you scurried towards the kitchen, turning the corner only to find Jack in nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants and nike socks that were pulled alarmingly high over the cuffs of his pants.

You took in the sight of the brunette from across from you, his soft, warm, tanned skin that had been kissed so delicately by the sun; his toned muscles, contorting as he moved in a fashion that left you mesmerized by the way his muscles in his biceps, shoulders and back all moved. And you noticed his hair, peeking out the bottom of his baseball cap that was turned backwards, a look you knew sent a wave of electricity through your body.

"Oh hey, babe," Jack said glancing up to your figure that scoped out the area, looking for any sign of something that could catch fire or cause chaos, "I'm just about done making dinner, I found this recipe online that had a video tutorial, so no; I haven't burnt anything down." Jack snickered, turning from the kitchen island to the counter behind that had a pot of pasta boiling on the stove.

You sigh, pulling your jacket off of your shoulder and hanging it on the back of the island stool. "I'm glad you haven't burnt anything, I guess now I'll just hope it's edible." You joked, earning a playful glare from the brunette in front of you.

All the while Jack was occupied watching the video from his phone, you leaned your body against the island counter, the cool marble touching the skin of your forearms as you rested your weight. You watched him intently, his tongue sticking out slightly in concentration while he transferred the pot of pasta into the strainer that was already placed in the sink. As he mixed the pasta noodles into the saucepan that contained a red sauce you could only assume was made from scratch, you watched his toned muscles shift with his movements, and his tanned skin from long days out on the boat at his lake house glimmering under the overhead lighting of the kitchen.

Your eyes trailed down his back to his waist and to his butt where your eyes lingered, mindlessly staring at your secret obsession Jack teases you about. Something about the way Jack looked and the way he was so concentrated in putting together a delicious, romantic meal for the first day in a few weeks that the two of you could spend together, you began to realize how long it had been since you felt the little adrenaline rush spike through your veins.

Of course you always actively had a crush on your own boyfriend, but every once in a while there would be moments where you're reminded of why he will always be your biggest crush of all time.

Since summer, Jack had been growing out his hair. You liked it no matter the length or style, but something about running your hands through his longer hair after a day in the lake and feeling the coarse texture from the water made your stomach do somersaults.

And tonight, it was clear Jack had gotten out of the shower prior to starting dinner, so his wet, brown hair laid messily under the cap, only destined to be doubled in volume from air-drying it and indenting the shape of the cap into his brown locks.

Jack plated the food, and you pushed yourself off of the counter to open the fridge and grab the bottle of wine you had saved from one of his teammate's weddings earlier in the summer. You poured two glasses, and followed Jack into your living room, placing the plates and wine glasses on the centre table that was decorated with candles and other items you had purchased when moving in.

Jack and you conversed about your days while the TV played in the background and you enjoyed your meal.

"I know we all joke that I should stick to being the one that cooks for us, but you impressed me tonight Hughes," you jested towards your boyfriend who sipped on his glass of wine.

He playfully rolled his eyes, "I didn't do nearly as bad as I thought I would, or as bad as you all make me out to be." He laughed. "Why don't you go and change into some comfy clothes while I clean up the dishes and then we can catch up on some TV or something for the rest of the night." Jack suggested as his hand reached to place a hand against your waist as you stood, sliding it towards the round of your butt and giving your skin a slight tap.

You squint your eyes, feeling skeptical of his suggestions, wondering if he was scheming.

"Is this your way of putting out for me? You make me a nice dinner and fill me with wine so we can end up fucking tonight?" You joked, half playfully. Jack stood to meet your eyes and his hand now reaching for your waist again to pull you into his body and placing a delicate kiss to your temple.

"Is it working?" He asked against your skin as he peppered kisses against your flushed and warm face. "I'm kidding, I just want us to have a good night since we've both been busy lately."

You hum at his response, "That's sweet of you, let me go change and I'll meet you back here."

While Jack collected the dirty plates and wine glasses, your feet carried you to your bedroom, quickly changing your outfit into one of Jack's basic t-shirts and a pair of pyjama shorts. Fixing the way that Jack's shirt fit on your frame, you admired your appearance in the wall-length mirror that leaned against the wall in your bedroom that complimented the other accents of the room.

Exiting your shared room, you walked down the hallway, the sound of your soft step echoing down the hardwood floor as the dimly lit living room shone down the walls. Jack was seated in the corner on the couch, his one arm resting on the back of the cushion while his legs stretched down to the end of the couch, with a soft white blanket drowning his figure.

A smile erupts on your face, seeing how romantic the aura of your boyfriend and this evening had been since you arrived home and you quickly shuffled over to meet Jack on the couch, plopping yourself next to him and immediately sinking into his side.

You rested your head on his shoulder as you snuck under the blanket to share, feeling the warmth of Jack's exposed skin radiate off of him.

"How are you already cozy?" You asked as if it was a life-changing question.

Jack chuckled, the vibrations of his laugh being sent through his body and ricocheting into yours, "You take forever to change." He slyly responded. You playfully shake your head in protest, but nonetheless snuggle in closer to your favourite brunette, his arm that was on the back of the couch finding its place around your shoulder, his fingers hanging down to just below your chest.

"What do you wanna watch?" Jack asked quietly, as he mumbled the question into the crown of your head, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

You hummed in contemplation, "Mmm, I'm not too picky- I'm probably just gonna end up falling asleep anyway." You giggled at your own confession.

It wasn't long before Jack and you had found a movie you both agreed on, and began to watch. The light from the TV screen emitting into the living room, lighting up the walls as Jack and you cozily held each other.

After the halfway point of the movie, Jack had to pause the film to run to the bathroom, and while doing so, on his way back grabbed you a glass of water, Jack settled back into his seat on the couch cushion.

As if on queue, when you looked over at Jack to see if he was ready to continue, he was already reaching for your waist and pulling you into his frame.

Your lips connected, and you inhaled sharply through your nose at the contact. Whether it was the two glasses of wine you had during dinner, or the smell of the food, or even the romantic environment of the living room with the lit candles disbursed among the room, the kiss felt electric, sending you to another level of bliss.

Jack's calloused hand instinctively raised to cradle your jaw, holding your face close to his as he continued to kiss you like it was the last time he'd be able to. And when you slightly pulled away to catch your breath from the heated kiss, Jack took that as his queue to slip his tongue into your mouth, exploring, as he deepened the kiss.

You let out a soft moan at the action, Jack's hand that was now on the side of your torso, squeezing your side delicately. Your own hands found themselves resting on each of Jack's shoulders, before your own one hand travelled up to the nape of his neck, immediately entangling it into his luscious, luscious locks you were so ever obsessed with.

The kiss continued, only until you both pulled away to catch your breath, foreheads resting against one another. You placed a quick peck on Jack's swollen, wet, and red lips. Smiling at him when his eyes met yours and you lowered yourself back into your cuddling spot beside him.

You looked up at the beloved boy who sat next to you, giving you more than you could have ever imagined in your life, and all that you felt was a sense of gratitude, and immense love; even emotional to think that you really did check all the boxes with this one. 

[dreamcubed]

i hate it here | theodore nott x reader

song; i hate it here [taylor swift] pairing; theodore nott x fem!muggle-born!ravenclaw!reader genre; s2l, fluff, angst, hurt comfort word count; 5k timeline; half-blood prince warnings; swearing, reference to deaths, referenced grief, discrimination (muggle-borns), implied anxiety, implied depression summary; a chance encounter caused your life to intertwine with theo nott’s, of whom provided a comfort and solace you had sorely needed

this is an old draft i made in 2020, put through some serious editing

also, happy holidays and happy new year!!!

masterlist

"i'll save all my romanticism for my inner life."

———————————————

Flames flickered dangerously on the wall candles as the determined Slytherin sixth year charged down the corridor, eyes glaring at anyone who dared get in his way. His destination was unknown, but no one really gave it any thought as they stumbled to get out of his path. Theodore Nott wasn't one to mess with, nor were his group of friends.

"Nott," a voice muttered quietly from behind, causing Theo to halt in his tracks. Spinning on his feet, he caught sight of you and your hesitant gaze.

"What?" he snapped.

"You- uh- you dropped this..." you sighed, opening your hand to reveal a golden locket sat on your palm.

To your surprise, he took it quite gently from you and offered a quiet, "Thanks," before turning on his heel and continuing to storm down the corridor.

You exhaled deeply at your awkwardness as you began making your journey to the Great Hall for lunch. You weren't much in the mood to talk, but still joined your small group of friends at the Ravenclaw table. Greeting them with no more than a smile, you began dishing food on to your plate.

Meanwhile, Theo had arrived to the lunch hall via a different route, and earlier at that too. His thought process had been that of wondering who you were and why you knew his name. There was a sense of gratitude towards you, as that locket had been a gift from his late mother; thus it was a priceless artefact to him. He wouldn't know how to cope if he lost it— her absence was difficult enough as it was.

He sat down on the Slytherin table, surprised to see his friends weren't there yet; they were normally just as eager to eat as him.

He didn't really notice your presence in the room, even though he was still thinking about you. Alas, the hall was rather large, and rather full of students. Regardless, his thoughts were interrupted when Lorenzo Berkshire showed up, one of his closest friend. "Hey, Enzo," he looked up from his plate of food.

"Hi," he sat down opposite, "Where are the rest? I thought I was late enough as it was. L/N and I were just exchanging notes for my ancient runes test. And... then I went to the toilet."

"L/N?" a look of confusion rested upon Theo's features.

"Yeah, Y/N L/N, she's in your potions and DADA, I believe. She's helping me on the test that's coming up soon. Don't you know her?" Lorenzo quirked an eyebrow.

Your name didn't ring a bell at all.

"She's over there," Lorenzo pointed to the Ravenclaw table, "She is a mud— muggle-born, but she's really smart and I'll get detention if I fail this test."

Theo flicked his gaze to where you were sat. He observed your lack of participation in the conversation your friends were having— two Ravenclaw girls who he did recognise.

"Wait, that's L/N?" he turned to Lorenzo in surprise, seeing that Mattheo had now arrived wordlessly, already stuffing his face with food.

"So you do know her?" Lorenzo replied.

"Yeah- uh- I met her earlier, actually," Theo continued to watch you eating your meal while visibly spaced out.

"Mate, if you keep staring at L/N like that she's gonna get uncomfortable," Blaise Zabini announced his arrival, sitting by Theo.

"You know her too?" Theo spun his head to face Blaise, eyes slightly widened.

Blaise quirked an eyebrow, "Yeah? She's, like, one of the smartest girls in our year..."

"Why am I only hearing of her today?" he said, somewhat aggravated, as if he had been left out of an inside joke everyone else was in on.

Blaise and Lorenzo chuckled, before the latter said, "It's because she's so quiet. Trust me, it took me ages to get her reasonably confident around me."

"Why?"

"What d'you mean, why? Some people are just like that, Theo," Blaise shrugged.

Something told Theo that you weren't quiet for no reason.

***

You headed to your potions class at around 11am the next day: it was double potions, and your first lesson, which you were not looking forward to. You had it with a lot of Slytherins, and some of them were a bit judgmental of you being a muggle-born. That didn't necessarily bother you, it was just tedious to deal with constantly.

Much to your shock, you found Theodore Nott sat on your table and the old Hufflepuff boy you used to sit next to over in Nott's old seat. Awkwardly sitting yourself down in your own seat, you pulled out some of your books and ingredients and began working through the starter on the blackboard. All without saying a word to Nott.

You didn't realise Nott had been watching your every move from beside you.

"L/N," he whispered as Professor Slughorn called the attention of the class. You lifted your eyes from the book to him, and he could see the flash of fear in your eyes. Most likely because his group of friends were notorious for picking on muggle-borns.

"Yes?" you said as confidently as you could, in a hushed tone.

"Why have I never seen you around before?"

A frown graced your face as you eyed him incredulously, "What do you mean? We've had classes together for years."

"But I've never noticed you."

With a scoff, you muttered, "Thanks."

"I mean, I don't understand how I haven't noticed you."

You shrugged.

Sensing he needed to change the subject, Theo said, "Thanks again for finding my locket. It's priceless to me, I don't know what I'd do without it."

"It's fine," you dismissed, "Why's it so important, anyway?"

"My mother gave it to me before she died."

Pursing your lips ever so slightly, you murmured, "My condolences."

He rolled his eyes, "Empty words I've heard a thousand times."

Before you could reply, Slughorn scolded the both of you for talking.

And you didn't get another chance to talk until the lesson came to an end; you packed up all of your belongings and muttered a polite, "Bye, Nott," before hurriedly walking towards the door.

"L/N! Wait!" he called after you, jogging to catch up, "Please drop the Nott. Just call me Theo."

He walked with you to the Great Hall, engaging in a polite conversation about the material covered in the lesson.

Eventually, you found the courage to say, "N- Theo, my words weren't empty earlier."

Theo quirked an eyebrow, "What do you mean?"

With a slight shrug, you pointed to the Ravenclaw table, "My- uh- friends are over there, Theo. D'you mind if I go?"

Frowning, Theo asked, "Why would I mind?"

"Uh- I don't know... I just- uh..." you purposely avoided his eyes, not wanting to say that you were scared to offend him, when he probably already saw you as lesser, being a muggle-born.

"Look, Y/N, you don't need to be so nervous around me. I'm not gonna hurt you."

"Really?" you tilted your head.

"I swear. I don't care that you're muggle-born." Although his father would.

Nodding, you mumbled, "Goodbye," and joined your group of friends, of whom had been watching the previous encounter. Theo then headed over to the Slytherin table where his friends were also waiting.

***

A few days later, the Slytherin boys were once again gathered in the Great Hall, this time for breakfast. Lorenzo downed the rest of his coffee, and rose to his feet. "Gotta go."

"Where're you going?" Mattheo asked.

Climbing over the bench, he replied, "Library. L/N's helping me study for the ancient runes test, remember?"

"Can I come?" Theo quickly questioned, interested upon hearing your name mentioned.

Lorenzo gave him an odd look but said yes nonetheless; Theo instantly stood from his seat and tailed his friend on the journey.

Upon reaching the library, the pair found you already sitting at a little oakwood table with a dusty maroon novel in hand and scrolls of parchment laid before you. "Since when are you so stressed about tests?" Theo whispered.

"I told you, I'll get detention if I fail," Lorenzo shrugged, "What about you? Why a sudden interest in L/N?"

"I don't have a sudden interest in her," he blatantly lied.

Lorenzo gave him a look, "Sure, mate."

Luckily for Theo, they had reached the table where you were, with a little green sofa positioned by it. Theo smiled at you, muttering a quick, "Hi."

"Hi..." your face warmed at the sight of him.

As Theo set himself down on the sofa, Lorenzo said his hello to you - curious as to why you were even shyer around Theo - and sat down by you so he could pull out his books. He silently speculated as to what was going on between the two of you.

You began going over ancient runes, explaining in as much detail as you could the most recent topic. Still, you found yourself constantly glancing over at Theo, who had started reading a book, which didn't go unnoticed by Lorenzo. He didn't say anything, however, because if he did studying would be futile due to your inevitable embarrassment.

"Why did Theo come?" you questioned awkwardly when the aforementioned had left briefly to use the toilet, "He never has before..."

Shrugging, Lorenzo replied, "I think he wanted to see you."

"Me?" your eyes widened, "Why would he want to see me?"

You didn't get an answer; Lorenzo didn't give you one.

***

If you weren't so oblivious the question would have probably answered itself over the next few days. Theo had begun to go with you everywhere, and had moved to sit next to you in both DADA and potions officially. He sometimes napped during theory lessons in potions, but you didn't mind enchanting a quill to copy what you were writing so he would still have notes. Not that he had asked you to, you just felt weirdly obliged.

Whenever you would read in the library, he would be right next to you on the sofa, also reading. Whenever you were sat alone in the Great Hall, he would join and eat with you. Whenever you were taking a nice stroll around the grassy slopes of the Hogwarts grounds, he would walk by you, maintaining a comfortable silence.

Annoying wasn't the word you would use for him; in fact, you had never felt so content with someone's constant presence. The rest of your friends you needed breaks from, as they drained your social energy despite how much you loved them. Theo, however, was more of a calm and quiet person: he seemed to be quite happy not speaking at all around you. You appreciated the fact you could dwell together without doing anything.

***

The following Saturday, Theo was pissed. Determinedly walking down the corridor with a ferocious glare in his eyes, everybody was quick to jump out of his way, knowing the extent his wrath could sometimes take. Someone, namely a dumb third year, had accidentally set off an exploding spell on him. While Theo had fixed himself up, the third year had ran off without apologising. Now, Theo was hunting him down to seek revenge.

Everybody in the school feared him and the other Slytherin boys, except for a few of the first years who were yet to see their rage. When they were angry, no one dared go near them— it was kind of like an unspoken rule. You, unfortunately, had not yet realised that Theo was angered and ran up to him from behind, since you had been looking for him. You had found it strange that he wasn't yet by your side.

"Hey, Theo," you levelled your pace with his, wondering why he was moving so fast. A couple students loitering in the corridor exchanged glances, knowing you were about to get screamed at.

Except, you didn't. Theo's features went soft as he turned his head to you and smiled gently. Shock was evident on the observing students' faces, having never seen such a switch in emotion on any of the Slytherin boys before.

"Hey, Y/N," Theo spoke, "D'you have any good hexes to use on a stupid third year who accidentally hit you with a spell but didn't apologise?"

"Well, um, you're kinda putting me on the spot here..." you tapped her chin thoughtfully, "If you wanna go with a classic you could use the bat bogey hex."

Scrunching up his nose, he replied, "I kinda want something more original."

"Uh... why don't you make them turn purple?" you shrugged, "That's not done often."

"Why purple?"

"I like purple."

Theo chuckled, "Okay, then. We've just got to find him, now."

"Well, think logically. He'll probably go where there's lots of people so he can either blend in or have some hope of protection," you said, "And where will there be lots of people on this fine Saturday morning?"

"The Great Hall," he realised, grabbing your hand without thinking so he could start sprinting there.

You gasped at first, not expecting to be tugged along so roughly. But you weren't unfit, and quickly pulled your legs to match his pace.

"Alright," he panted, coming to a halt after running through the large double doors, "He's over there, on the Gryffindor table."

"Why... did... we... have... to... run?" you forced out between breaths.

Squeezing your hand unintentionally, he watched with amused eyes at your breathless state, before replying, "Couldn't risk him getting away again."

"Enchant his- uh- drink," now hyperaware of your still joined hands, you felt shy.

"What, so I don't get caught?"

"Uh, yeah..."

He tugged on your hand, guiding you down the side of the red table with his wand hidden discreetly in his free palm. Uttering the charm, he pointed his wand at the golden goblet in front of the boy.

"Better hope it works," he muttered, looking around to see all his friends together on the Slytherin table, as usual. You found yourself being dragged over to them without a say in the matter.

Theo only remembered to let go of your hand when you reached his friends— your expression likely gave away your embarrassment, but you still sat down next to him. Lorenzo, who was the other side of Theo, whispered in his ear, "You made it official, then?"

Shaking his head and taking a bite of toast, Theo answered, "What d'you mean?"

"You know what I mean, Theo," he sighed, "You both have such blatant feelings for each other."

The conversation swiftly switched as Mattheo began discussing the upcoming quidditch game. You didn't share an interest in the sport, but Theo did, so you were able to remain silent, much to your relief.

Blue puffy coat drowning you in warmth, and black leather gloves wrapping your shivery pale hands— woolly white bobble hat on head, and tickles of snow balanced on cheekbones— matte black snow boots on feet, and thick jeans on legs: you were well kitted for the day's snowy weather out in Hogsmeade, all of your friends were there too. You were now off the carriages and strolling down the icy street, gazing at the familiar sweets, book and joke shops. Cho, a friend of yours, was awkwardly making conversation with Blaise. He returned the level of awkwardness.

Mattheo and Lorenzo - Theo's closest friends - suddenly pulled your arms with mischievous looks on their faces. "Come to Zonko's with us!" Mattheo smirked.

It was obviously not a question.

Giving Theo a pleading look, you pulled a strained expression when all he gave you was a smirk similar to Mattheo's. "We'll be in the Three Broomsticks," your friend, Jane, said, "See the rest of you there."

You sighed, accepting your defeat and going to Zonko's— you ended up spending most of your time hidden in the corner of the shop while keeping an eye on the devious Slytherins. The crowd in the shop wasn't relaxing. At all. Right now, the only place you wanted to be was in the Three Broomsticks holding a refreshing cup of golden butterbeer with Theo by your—

Theo? Since when had he been the first person you wanted to be with? The first person you thought of when you went to your happy place? Warmth spread to your cheekbones and lit them aflame, the only thoughts in your head being Theo's cheeky smirk and fluffy brown hair. It took you awhile to realise Lorenzo had now grabbed your arm and was pulling you over to the pub with Mattheo, but you soon snapped out of your imagination and allowed yourself to enter through the door independently.

The second you were in there you made eye contact with very same boy you had been thinking about, causing you to grow flustered. Keeping your head down, you walked over to the table and smiled awkwardly at everyone. There suddenly seemed to be an overwhelming feeling that everyone could read exactly what you were thinking and immediately knew what was up.

Blaise budged along the bench a bit, allowing you to squeeze in next to Theo. All that you could notice now was the warmth radiating from the body - Theo's - that was squashed against you in the confined of space on the benches and chairs.

"Y/N? You good?" he whispered, concerned over your sudden shyness in demeanour.

"Uh- yeah! Fine... just fine," making the mistake of glancing at him again, your thoughts stammered and stuttered.

A million thoughts swarmed through Theo's head, having no idea what was happening. He decided to ignore it for now, however, and pushed over a glass of golden butterbeer to you.

Relief washed over you as you took a sip of the frothy beverage and allowed the warmth to fill up your insides. Theo's presence was beginning to feel comforting again, now your spout of realising your feelings was over. Unintentionally, you shifted millimetres closer to him causing your thighs to be pressed together. Theo was now conversing with Lorenzo, but he noticed your minuscule movement next to him.

Continuing with the conversation, he shifted the hand he had resting on his lap to hook it around your thigh: an action that had your eyes widening like saucers. Still, you couldn't help but smile slightly, before taking another sip of beer to cover your face.

***

One bright Saturday morning, you were in the library with Lorenzo, as he needed help with his studies. Only, this time it was Jane who was helping him, as you did not take herbology, and so could provide no assistance to him in that area. Regardless, you had come along, despite the fact you were in a great deal of pain. You were laying on the sofa by Jane and Lorenzo's table, curled up into a ball as you cursed your uterus for daring to grieve you in such a manner.

Theo, however, was in the Great Hall eating breakfast. The lack of your presence confused him, since you were usually there, so naturally he asked your friends where you were.

"Oh... she's in the library with Jane and Berkshire," Cho replied nonchalantly, "I don't know why she went— she has really bad cramps, and it's Jane that's tutoring Berkshire right now anyway."

"Cramps?" he frowned.

Cho sighed, "She's on her period, Nott."

Coughing awkwardly, he hummed in acknowledgment and continued eating, praying that the subject would be changed.

"Well? Are you just gonna sit there?" Cho questioned threateningly.

"What?" he said with confusion lacing his tone.

Mattheo laughed from across the table, "You're practically her boyfriend, aren't you gonna go to her? Period care is a classic boyfriend duty."

"What do you know about boyfriend duties?" Theo scoffed at his friend, but he knew that he was right, even though he wasn't your boyfriend. Nonetheless, he rose from his seat after Cho gave him a glare.

Once had poured a cup of hot chocolate from the breakfast spread, he began his journey to the library. Upon entering the massive room full of oakwood desks, homely sofas and bookcase after bookcase, he spotted you lying on a settee by Jane and Lorenzo with your eyes tightly shut. In your foetal position, you seemed oblivious to the heated discussion going on between the pair.

Crossing the room while scanning his surroundings, he noticed the various students sat chatting with friends or lazily doing homework: all of them in casual clothes. The thought of that made him take note of your attire: a loose-fitting Ravenclaw shirt much like the ones quidditch players wore, simple black pyjama bottoms and a pair of green and blue striped socks. Now that he had arrived, he could make out the battered black Converse sprawled at the foot of the maroon settee you were on.

Shooting a quick hello to Lorenzo and Jane, who were too preoccupied to notice, Theo leaned over you, and whispered, "Hey. I brought you some hot chocolate."

You peeled open your eyelids and rubbed them, wincing suddenly before clutching your abdomen. "Thanks..." you mumbled softly.

"Chang told me it was your time of the month," he said in a low tone so nobody else could hear, sitting down by you properly and handing over the mug.

"Did she?" tiredly pushing yourself up into a more upright position, you felt the beginning of your heart rate speed up now that you could clearly see Theo.

He smiled gently, taking in your cute mildly flustered appearance. Such an expression on your face made him want to hold you— desperately.

Taking a deep but quiet breath, he took the mug from your hands and placed it on the table, making you scowl. The scowl disappeared, however, when he scooped his arm underneath you, taking you much by surprise, and lifted you up slightly so he could budge himself to the end of the sofa and allow you to now be blatantly flustered on his lap. "How're you holdin' up?" he asked as he leaned the both of you forward to pick up the mug again.

"O-Okay, I gue-" you cut yourself off by clutching your abdomen and scrunching your face.

"Maybe not so okay," he chuckled, pushing your arms away from your stomach, and slipping his free hand under your royal blue shirt before applying some pressure.

Sighing in relief, you said, "You're so warm," before proceeding to curl up once more. You took the hot chocolate from his other hand, granting yourself a big gulp.

"'S'good chocolate."

"Fresh from the breakfast table," he chuckled, the action vibrating against your back.

You smiled, something that he couldn't see. "Thank you."

"It's nothing."

At that comment, you disagreed, as you knew that Theo Nott was not the type of man to do such nice things for people. Still, you continued to drink the hot chocolate, looking towards Jane and Lorenzo— who were still arguing about a herbology topic.

"What could they possibly be arguing about?" Theo sighed.

You shrugged slightly, "I think she proofread his essay and said it looked like a toddler had written it."

"I'm guessing you're a kinder tutor?"

You laughed, "I would say so. Unluckily for Lorenzo, I don't take herbology."

Then, Cho arrived, with Mattheo and Blaise as well— how she had persuaded the former to come to the library was nothing short of impressive.

"Sorry, did we interrupt a double date?" Mattheo smiled devilishly, sitting down in an armchair.

Oh, that would explain it.

You and Theo didn't react to his comment: you were so used to being teased at this point that it was just another day in the life.

As for Jane and Lorenzo— it was a completely different story. Their faces flushed as they became defensive, spouting off all sorts of insults about the other in relation to their prior argument.

"We're all heading down to the lake for a bit, d'you guys wanna come?" Blaise asked.

Looking to you, Theo could easily tell you didn't want to by your expression, so declined on behalf of both of you. Meanwhile, Lorenzo and Jane agreed, likely realising the tutoring was going nowhere, and rose from their seats.

***

Quidditch matches were the pride and joy of the school, and also something even you took seriously, despite not caring much for the sport. You had never missed a Ravenclaw match in your time, and never intended to either. That day's match was Slytherin vs. Ravenclaw, so you were definitely going to be in the stands watching.

With it being a few weeks away from Christmas (and nearly the end of the first term), being comfortably wrapped up was a necessity: a winter coat, a scarf, a hat, and gloves. Theo was about to head into the changing rooms for the match, but ran over to you first. Even just looking at him made your previously unwavering loyalty to Ravenclaw's team falter.

"Two galleons we'll win," Theo smirked down at you.

"Bet accepted," you held out your gloved hand, to which he shook, "Because I know Ravenclaw'll win."

You then made your way up to the stands, as Theo went to change and warm up. It wasn't long before

"Alright, it seems the teams are ready to start, so on Madam Hooch's whistle..." the commentator, Lee Jordan's successor, spoke, followed by a sharp whistle, "And the teams are in the air..."

The boy commentating continued to describe what the green and blue players darting around in the cold and crisp air were doing regarding the four balls of quidditch. Watching intently, you observed as the quaffle was passed between people and through hoops. The score reached 80-60 to Slytherin.

You could have sworn that Theo was smirking at you.

Only, when the crowd on your side suddenly started cheering, you snapped your gaze away from Theo to see that the Ravenclaw seeker had a shiny golden sphere in their hand.

Immediately, you began cheering as well, throwing middle fingers in Theo's direction. He scowled and rolled his eyes, flying over to you.

"Rigged game."

"Sore loser."

"Whatever."

"That'll be two galleons, please."

He rolled his eyes again, "Meet me after."

***

"Come with me," he said the second he emerged from the changing rooms, grabbing your hand and pulling you along.

You were really confused as he dragged you all the across the quidditch pitch and over the grassy plains of the Hogwarts grounds. Unanswered questions filled you even more as you reached the less thick area of the Forbidden Forest, that was not as forbidden. In the distance, you could make out the skinny black silhouettes of the thestrals.

"Why'd you take me to the thestrals?"

"So you can see them?" he observed the mighty creatures as they noticed your presence.

"You can too?" you asked.

Moving closer to stroke one of them, he replied, "When I was eight, my mother passed."

"Oh, I'm sorry..." you gently petted the same one he was.

Theo's mouth settled into a grim line, "Don't be."

Taking a deep breath, you said softly, "I watched my parents get killed when we were in fifth year. It was the Christmas holidays and I came home after shopping to see..." your breath hitched, "To see death eaters torturing them through the window..."

Instead of saying anything, Theo wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his warm chest.

"I just wish I'd done something... but I... I couldn't..." you recalled the day, your heart aching.

"Hey, it's okay, bambi," he pressed a light kiss to your forehead.

"I know they... they only did it... because... because I'm a witch... I just..." you fought against the lump in your throat.

You drew back from his chest, and Theo stroked the softness of your cheeks, staring into your sparkling eyes. He couldn't understand why his heart hurt so much to see you saddened, let alone why it hurt even more when you forced a small smile.

It dawned on him that you were far from nervous and weak, instead quietly carrying the weight of a tragedy that many wouldn't be able to manage. He was amazed that you didn't break down every day: especially since it had been only a couple years, and you were so young.

The realisation that the Christmas season was probably no longer full of festivity and joy for you, but painful reminders and memories, was one that made him grasp your hand tightly.

"Y/N... you're the strongest, smartest and kindest person I know..." he spoke softly, caressing your palm.

Your voice cracked when you said, "Really?"

"Really," he confirmed. The next thing you felt was his soft and plush lips against yours, sitting there in a sweet and chaste kiss.

Your lips parted as he rested his forehead against yours and squeezed your hand as gently as if you were a porcelain doll.

"Where d'you go during the holidays?" he asked hesitantly.

"I live with my great aunt now."

The evidence of how hard you found the absence of your parents was shown through your expression.

"Is she nice?"

You nodded, "But she can't fill the hole."

He understood. His cold and cruel father could never— would never— step up and pick up where his angelic mother left off.

"Y/N," he said softly, "You know what my father is, don't you?"

"Everyone does," you murmured, "How is he not imprisoned?" You grimaced after asking that, and added, "No offense."

He chuckled dryly, "None taken. I despise him," he then paused for a moment, but continued, "I just want you to know I'm not like him— I'm not—"

You pushed a finger against his lips, silencing him. "I know, Teddy. I wouldn't be here right now if I thought you were, no?"

The corner of his lips curved up in a smile, "My mum used to call me that."

"Oh, I'm sorry—"

"No. It feels right coming from you."

You matched his smile. "Theo, I... I think I love you."

He cupped your face with his warm hands, "I know I love you."

—————————————

masterlist

written; 04/03/2020 —> 27/12/2024 published; 28/12/2024 edited; —/—/——

[finelinevogue]

aaron hotchner with the sidewalk rule >>>

SO TRUE!!!!! okay okay

n.b. just a small little blurb | reference to kidnapping

pairing - aaron hotchner x bau!reader

“He’s gotta be somewhere down here.”

You and Hotch were working together to find your unsub, in a surprisingly sketchy part of town.

You’d been asking loads of people if they’d seen anyone recently that matched the description of your profile, but there’d been no luck yet.

You stopped to talk to a little old, homeless, woman and Aaron waited off to the side.

“You sure you haven’t seen him, Betty?” You asked, trying to humanise her by using her name - a method you were taught in FBI training.

“No. I would remember a face as handsome as his.”

You smiled and nodded.

“Well, be careful okay? No getting into any strangers cars - even if they’re handsome.” You patted her on the shoulder before she walked slowly away.

You went over to Hotch, shaking your head in defeat.

He sighed, dipping his head down. “We’re running out of time. His kidnapping timeline suggests he’s going to do it again soon.”

“Maybe if he knows we’re in the area he won’t strike.” You suggested.

“Or, he’ll strike somewhere else.” Hotch raised an eyebrow.

“Let’s head back to Reid and Morgan. Maybe they’ve got something.”

You both started walking back down the road, you closest to the pavement edge.

It took Hotch all of five seconds to put his hands on your shoulders and move you to the side, so he was now walking on the side closest to the pavement edge.

“You scared I’m going to fall into oncoming traffic, Hotch?” You joked, still feeling the warmth of his hands on you even after he’d taken them off you.

“No i’m scared our unsub could easily snatch you away from that side.”

“And you don’t think I could handle him?”

“I think you could handle him, but I don’t think I could handle you being taken.”

Hotch kept the pace going, not allowing you to stop and think about what he’d just said to you. He said it with his usual tone of voice, making you think it wasn’t so important, so you tried not to read too much into what it meant as you met back up with Reid and Morgan.

Little did you know that was Hotch’s way of trying to drop his feelings about you in conversation.

[applepiewinchesters]

Every Universe (Logan Howlett x fem!Reader)

A/N: This was written while I was slightly intoxicated, I regret nothing though and hope you guys enjoy it. It was proofread but I cannot say there will be no grammatical errors. Regardless, please enjoy!! :) Also, takes place in the Deadpool and Wolverine universe.

Word Count: 4,158 (this bitch is long, for me at least)

Warnings: None really unless you count angst and fluff as well as the mention of butt stuff

Finding out that not falling in love with a man being the sole reason you were sent to the void seemed like a pretty patriarchal reason to essentially be damned but who were you to question the TVA.

The day you were sent to the void you’d seen the news, MULTIPLE CASUALTIES AFTER ATTACK AT XAVIER’S SCHOOL FOR GIFTED YOUNGSTERS, names such as Jean Grey, Marie D’Ancanto, Scott Summers, Hank McCoy, and Logan Howlett were read out by the heartbroken looking anchor.

Being a mutant yourself, the news stung and left a pit of anxiety in your stomach. It was an attack by an anti-mutant terrorist group, if they were bold enough to attack the home of Charles Xavier, why not a shopping mall next, or another school full of mutant and non-mutant children alike.

Only minutes after the newscast on the tragedy started four rectangular, orange portals opened in front of and behind you. Four men dressed in odd looking military uniforms stalked towards you. You didn’t even have time to attempt to fend them off before they grabbed you, holding you down while you attempted to break free but even with your mutation, they were too strong.

All you remembered was one of them placing some weird stick against your stomach and you screamed as you essentially dissolved into nothing.

When you woke you were found by who you now knew as Blade, and were told you were in the Void, where you would stay until you died or were killed by a fellow member of said Void.

You’d been there for a what you thought was probably a few years when a couple of Deadpool and Wolverine variants were found by Laura in an absolutely fucked Honda Odyssey. She brought them there and Gambit and Blade brought them inside and laid them down. They appeared as if they’d just had a horrific fight or the most violent sexual encounter ever.

The Wolverine variant was the first to wake up, quite literally shooting up into a sitting position while breathing heavily. His claws extended quickly from his knuckles, and he made an almost animalistic sound.

“Easy there killer,” you almost teased, holding up your hands, you’d been the one unfortunate enough to be closest to him when he woke up, so his eyes immediately fixed on you.

Several emotions seemed to flash across his face at once, his look of anger changing to one of shock. His claws disappeared just as quickly as they’d appeared just moments ago as you slowly put your hands down, now a little concerned for the man.

“Y/N?”, he asked, his head tilting slightly.

It was your turn to look confused, “Did we know each other?”, you asked.

Sure, you’d heard of Wolverine, of Logan, but you’d never met him personally, you had originally been set to attend Charles Xavier’s school when you were 18 but after an attack on the school the same year your parents had decided against it.

The Logan before you’ s face fell slightly; he seemed almost hurt. It took him a second to respond, “I, uh, I guess not.”

That was when Elektra cut in, explaining to Logan where he was and how she’d found him and Deadpool. While he seemed to only half listen, he got up and found the nearest bottle of Gambit’s booze and started drinking it.

When Deadpool woke up it was a completely different side of weird, you hadn’t had the pleasure of coming across a Deadpool variant, but you’d heard how odd they were, and unfortunately for you, you thought they were exaggerating.

After annoying literally everyone in the room, the Deadpool variant all got you to somehow agree to help him and Wolverine get back to the TVA to save his timeline, as well as a sneak attack on Cassandra Nova. The whole time Logan watched you from the corner of his eye.

He couldn’t completely convince himself it was you. The last time he’d seen you, you were lying dead on the front lawn of the school, killed by a large group of humans, along with almost everyone at the mansion. You were covered in blood and cold by the time he’d gotten there. He’d held onto you until the coroner was nearly begging to take you away.

Logan remembered almost everything about you. Your favorite movie, what food you hated, and even the feel of your hand in his. But when you looked at him with little to no recognition in your eyes, his heart could’ve broken all over again.

You had no idea the conflicting feelings he’d had while you sat only a few feet away. You looked practically the same, maybe older than you were when you’d died in his world, he was older too, maybe you just didn’t want to be with an old man and were pretending not to know him. He was the worst Wolverine after all, he wouldn’t blame you.

But then there were some things you did that reminded him of his version of you, the way your laugh sounded exactly the same, how you sat the same way in your chair, and you even made the same face when you’d taken a drink of Gambit’s whiskey as when you’d sip his occasionally while the two of you sat on the couch in the mansion watching some movie one of the others had put on.

It was you, just, one that apparently hadn’t fallen in love with Logan Howlett. Logan himself couldn’t help but wonder if that had been your reason for being sent here, but thought better of it, deciding he'd probably never have that kind of impact on any kind of world.

After a successful attack on Cassandra and her small army, Deadpool and Wolverine were gone, and you hadn’t expected to ever see them again. Then Cassandra almost destroyed every timeline to exist, and you’d thought for sure those two variants had gotten themselves killed.

But then the TVA came for you and brought you to said Deadpool variants world, which he had successfully and somehow saved with Wolverine’s help. You couldn’t help but notice Logan’s shirt missing this time around. Almost cursing yourself for not trying harder to go to Xavier’s school when you were younger, having a chance to meet your world’s Logan. A man’s abs can do that to a woman.

“Happy to not be in the void and all, but why am I here?”, you asked, eyeing the agents around you and taking in the cracked subway station.

“I thought I’d give a little gift to Wolvie here,” Deadpool replied in an overly enthusiastic manner, throwing an arm around Logan who instantly pushed him away.

“I’m not a gift to give you dumb fuck,” you replied, crossing your arms over your chest.

Deadpool ignored your obvious distain and continued, “Well I figured since he lost you in his world and you never falling in love in your world caused his death that you could stay here with us!”.

Your eyes widened and you had to think about what he’d said for a moment, “I-I got him killed? I got Logan and those other mutants killed?”.

Logan couldn’t focus on the other details once his name left your mouth; he hadn’t heard you say that in almost a decade.

You on the other hand turned to the woman beside you that looked to be in charge.

“Is that the reason I was sent there, because I didn’t fall in love with Logan Howlett and he died because of it?”, you asked, you felt like you could be sick.

The woman sighed, almost regretful, “Yes, it was,” she finally answered you. “Without your help of your mutation those mutants did not survive that attack on the school.”

“Oooooo, trauma plot twist,” Deadpool practically squealed.

“Shut the fuck up!”, you snapped back, making Deadpool whisper a bashful, “Sorry,” and take a step back.

The TVA agents left shortly after, and that was how you found yourself living in a small apartment with Wade, Logan, and the craziest old lady you’d ever met, Blind Al.

Wade and she shared a room as weird as it was, you were given the spare room Blind Al reluctantly let you use, as it was now formerly her grow room, and Logan elected to sleep on the couch.

You settled in somewhat nicely, you still felt awkward in a world that wasn’t yours living with a doofus that you'd grown somewhat fond of and a man you got killed in his other life, but you had new friends, ones that didn’t have a huge chance of dying every day so that was a plus.

Yukio and Ellie had gravitated towards you, you were somewhat close in age, with them being early twenties and you in your somewhat late twenties, they reminded you of your younger sibling’s friends from back home in your previous world.

So, when they invited you to go out a month after you settled in, you couldn’t say no, it would get you out of the house at least, you wouldn’t have to sit and listen to Wade and Logan argue or endure Logan’s kicked puppy look when he thought you weren’t looking.

You felt awful you weren’t the you he thought you were, and you knew it was nothing you could control but after Wade let it slip what had happened to you in Logan’s world you couldn’t imagine how you’d feel if the roles were reversed.

So, to hopefully be able to forget about everything for a few hours you got ready, doing some easy makeup and hair, you put on a cute outfit you’d bought earlier in the week, Yukio had begged you to go shopping after finding out you didn’t own anything for “going out” yet on this world.

You relented and picked out a skirt, top, tights, and boots, it was simple yet cute enough to not be mistaken as any old outfit.

When you’d exited your bedroom in your shared apartment shortly before Yukio and Ellie were due to come get you, Wade looked up from whatever the hell he was doing on his phone, which could be anything from porn to angry birds.

His eyes widened slightly, “Got a date?”, he asked, only slightly feigning shock.

Logan had looked up immediately at the mention of a date, he was sipping a bottle of whiskey at the kitchen table. His eyes traveled over your outfit when he thought you were busy glaring at Wade.

“Not that its your business merc but no, I’m going out with Yukio and Ellie,” you stated, tossing a lip balm you had in your hand to your small purse.

“Girls nightttt,” Wade sang, only making you sigh.

As if a divine intervention interrupted there was a knock on the door and when you opened it you found the two girls standing there waiting.

“Hi Wade!”, Yukio exclaimed waving at him.

Wade leaned back in his seat to look around you at Yukio, “Hi Yukio!”.

“Come on,” you told them, moving to leave but a hand on your shoulder made you turn around. It was Wade.

“Now honey,” he began, “don’t take drinks from strangers, don’t go off alone, and don’t hook up with anyone. You know what they say about beer goggles, you’ll be waking up next to the crypt keeper.”

While you rolled your eyes and pushed Wade’s hand off your shoulder although you knew he really did care. Logan on the other hand clenched his jaw. You weren’t his and he knew that, but Wade’s last comment set his teeth on edge.

“I’m a big girl Wade, but thanks,” you told him, turning around and leaving this time without so much as a glimpse Logan’s way.

When the door shut Wade spoke again, “She’s gonna get picked up by every hottie in the club in that outfit. Did you see her legs Peanut?”.

Wade then almost immediately flinched when he felt glass shatter on the back of his head, the alcohol in the now broken bottle staining the back of his My Little Pony shirt.

He didn’t even have to look back to imagine the look on Logan’s face, “Gotcha,” was all Wade replied, picking out a rather large glass shard from the back of his neck.

…

It was hours later when you were so drunk you couldn’t feel the cold outside, but you sure felt good on the inside. The only bad thing was that the other girls wanted to go to another club, and your social battery was just about gone.

You three stumbled out of the club, Yukio and you giggled at something Ellie had yelled at some perv leering at you when you’d walked out. Stopping the other two from turning the opposite way to another club, you spoke rather loudly despite being out of the crowd and loud music.

“I-I think I’m gonna go home! You girls go!” you told them, making Yukio frown.

“Don’t walk home by yourself, call Wade or something,” Ellie commented.

You nodded thoughtfully before gasping, “I’ll call Logan, Wade is doing butt stuff with Vanessa tonight!”.

Your loud comment sent Yukio into a giggling fit and made a guy near you wince, maybe he’d done butt stuff too.

Ellie only nodded, rolling her eyes as you pulled your phone from your purse, scrolling through the very few numbers you’d had, Wade had gotten both you and Logan phones soon after arriving, claiming he needed to be able to send you both funny videos every day. Which were no doubt ignored by Logan.

Pressing on Logan’s contact, you put the phone up to your ear, listening to it ring only once before the call was answered.

“You alright?”, was the first thing out of Logan’s mouth and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Oh, I’m great!” you replied, “but Ellie doesn’t want me walking home alone and Wade is doing butt stuff so will you come? I’m only a few blocks from home.”

The whole sentence was sort of rushed and you thought maybe Logan hadn’t heard you correctly because the line went silent.

You were about to repeat yourself when Logan stopped you, “I’m coming,” he told you, you could hear him shuffling around and the sound of a door closing, “What’s the name?”.

Despite having been in the club for well over an hour you had to look up and squint at then brightly lit sign, “Uhhhh,” you mumbled into to the phone, before your eyes finally focused, “House of Yes!”.

You could’ve sworn Logan chuckled, “Be there soon,” was all he said before hanging up.

“Escort secured,” you told the two girls, slipping your phone back into your purse. “He’ll be here soon,” you added, attempting to replicate his gravely tone, only succeeding in making yourself cough and sending Yukio into a laughing fit.

It was only 15 minutes of standing around before Logan showed up, you spotted him first, having turned yourself that way to look for him. He was dressed in his usual jeans, button up, and undershirt, along with a leather jacket he’d picked up recently.

He looked good you had to admit, nearly every girl outside, and even some guys turned to look at him when he walked past. He didn’t give them any sort of acknowledgement though, earning some disappointed looks from a few of them when he walked up to you.

What was it Wade said about beer goggles? Logan was hot without alcohol though, so you shook off the thought.

“Ready to go?”, he asked, eyes scanning over you, not to be a perv but to make sure everything was the same as when you left, and it was, save for the way you swayed slightly and the way you smiled at him like you were so happy to see him. He thought he’d never see that again, but he has to remind himself for what felt like that hundredth time that it wasn’t you, not his you at least.

You nodded, turning around to hug both of the girls, telling them to be safe, although you knew Ellie wouldn’t put up with anyone’s shit.

“Bye Y/N! Bye Logan!”, Yukio exclaimed, waving at you both before grabbing Ellie’s hand as they turned the opposite way.

“Alright, come on,” Logan said, taking a step away from you and waiting for you to follow him to keep walking, he made sure to keep you closest to the buildings, it wouldn’t be too great to have you fall in the street in front of a car.

It was silent for a couple minutes, you stumbled every so often and Logan’s hand always shot out, ready to catch you, but you always righted yourself, giggling as you did, and Logan found himself smiling at the sound.

You caught him smiling after a couple times, narrowing your eyes, “What’re you smiling at grumpy?”, you asked, voice anything but angry.

“Grumpy?”, he asked, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Yeah, it’s what I call you sometimes in my head, Mr. Grumpy is also a good one,” you told him in a very serious tone.

“Mr. Grumpy,” Logan found himself repeating, only making you laugh, which made you stumble, nearly knocking into someone walking the opposite way of you both. Logan instinctively wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you away from the almost collision and into his side.

You immediately noticed he was warm, you could feel it even with his multiple layers on, it was growing colder now outside as the days went on and you yourself knew without the alcohol, you’d probably be cold but here he was, a personal heater.

“Are you actually just a werewolf?” you asked him, making him stop walking completely and turn towards you, removing his arm from your shoulders, making you pout a bit.

“I am not a werewolf,” he told you seriously.

You groaned, “Okay but you’re really warm, you have claws, you can run on all fours, and you’ve got those little…,” you trailed off, putting your pointer fingers up on each side of your head, attempting to mimic the little swishes his hair made.

Personally, you had no idea if his hair just did that (because he’s a werewolf), or if he styled it that way. You couldn’t decide which option to like more.

When Logan didn’t seem to understand what you’d said, you reached up, lightly running a finger along one of the swoops of his hair. You jumped a bit when his hand caught your wrist as you were pulling your hand back.

There was a look in his eyes you didn’t recognize but it soon disappeared as he let you go, “Sorry,” he quickly said. “Reflex.”

You shrugged, “No harm done,” you told him, and his eyes softened at the way you brushed off his behavior from years of enduring nothing even remotely close to the gentle way you’d just touched him.

Maybe you didn’t think so badly of him. You always seemed so wary, afraid to make him angry, to say something wrong, like he was a ticking time bomb. It put him on edge and made him want to steer clear of you, he didn’t want to scare you off either.  But now, standing there staring at you while you just smiled at him made him relax a bit.

“Let’s go,” you suddenly said, beginning to walk away from him. He was back at your side in moments, and you found yourself bumping into him every so often, apologizing every time you did.

Finally, he wrapped an arm around you again, pulling you back into the warmth of his side. You smiled when he did, stumbling slightly but he held you up easily, not letting you fall.

“Thanks for coming to get me,” you told him when you were only a block from home.

“No problem,” he replied, keeping his eyes on the sidewalk ahead.

There were a few moments of silence before you began to giggle suddenly, Logan’s brow furrowed as he looked down at you, “What?” he asked, hopefully not regretting asking.

“So, you’re not a werewolf?” you asked, looking up at him.

Logan groaned looking away from you, “No, and if you keep asking, you’ll regret it.”

“Ooo what are you gonna do?” you mocked, poking his side.

“Wouldn’t you like to know sweetheart,” he replied, making you stumble at the nickname.

“I would,” you challenged, after righting yourself with the help of Logan’s arm around you.

Logan regarded you for a moment before shaking his head, “You’re drunk, another time.”

“Ughhhhh,” you groaned, “Tell me!”.

“Not a chance,” Logan replied, smirking a bit. He’d been drinking since you left and was buzzed himself, he couldn’t help but smile at your behavior.

The you he’d known had always acted like this, at least when intoxicated. You were whiny, clumsy, and clingy. The way your fingers gripped the back of his jacket to stay up right made his heart ache though and his smile fell.

You noticed his attitude change and became concerned, “You okay?” you asked, attempting to stop walking, but Logan kept you going.

“Fine” he replied, his hold on you loosening slightly, you couldn’t help but notice.

So, you stopped, much to Logan’s dismay, moving to stand in front of him, swaying slightly as you very determinedly looked him in the eye.

“What’s wrong, did I do something?” you asked, genuine concern in your voice, he could almost feel his heart crack just slightly.

“No, it’s…,” Logan began, his tongue getting tied, he was never great at emotions, that’s why he drank so much. You didn’t have to feel anything then.

“I’m listening,” you reassured, resisting the urge to take his hand.

“You’re so much like…like her, like you,” Logan finally said, not really meeting your eye. “I thought I could ignore it, but I can’t, you even smell the same.”

Logan had rendered you with nothing to say, could you truly comfort him? Reassure him? You felt yourself sobering up a bit at the thought.

It was a few moments of silence before you found your words, “I know this has been shitty for you too, and I'm sorry I haven't been a better friend. Honestly sometimes I think you hate the fact that I'm not her, me her, whatever...that you hate me. But then you do things like this and it makes me think otherwise. I guess I just don't know how to...approach you, Logan."

Logan felt his heart drop at the word “friend”, and the thought he made you feel inadequate. God he really was stupid enough to think he might have a chance with this version of you.

But he found himself lifting a hand to your cheek, feeling your skin heat up beneath his fingers, “I could never hate you, not in this universe, not in any, got it? Its my fault, for pushing that onto you, making you feel like you have to be someone you’re not.”

You couldn’t help but laugh slightly, “We’re both just fucked up in our own special way, aren’t we?”.

Logan nodded, dropping his hand, but you caught it in your own, “It’s not your fault either you know, I personally blame whatever bitchass overlord of the universe did this.”

Logan had to keep himself from solely focusing on the way your hand wrapped around his, “But…,” he went to argue.

You put up a hand to stop him, “Enough with the self-pity Howlett, its unbecoming of a man of your nature.”

“My nature?” Logan asked, titling his head at you.

“Yes, the nature of being absurdly attractive,” you admitted, looking away from him as you spoke, attempting to walk away, but he pulled you back, almost into his chest, but he kept you a few inches away, still concerned with scaring you.

“Absurdly?” Logan asked, the smirk returning to his face.

You swallowed hard, “Did I say that? I meant unappealing, completely unsightly.”

Your attempt at saving your future sober self from your drunk self was failing miserably, but Logan gave in after a few seconds, shrugging as he turned, placing his arm around you once more, guiding you towards the apartment building you could finally see in the distance.

“Whatever you say kid,” he told you.

This was the most at home you two had felt in a while, and when you sat next to each other at breakfast in the morning, Logan passing you whatever you needed when you’d asked, Wade gasped dramatically.

“Did you two also engage in butt stuff last night, or is that not your cup of whiskey Wolvie?” Wade asked.

This earned him a fork to the forehead, easily tossed across the table by Logan.

The way you laughed made Logan’s heart skip a beat instead of crack again. For the first time in quite a while he felt hope, and if being here with you meant putting up with Wade’s dumbass mouth, he could make an exception just this once.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! I felt like Tumblr was seriously lacking in Logan fluff so here ya go!

[skyenish]

Mr. Loverman | Scarabia animatic 🐍☀️

——

Something something happy pride month

(Ramble under the cut)

Since I’m drawing Jamil and Kalim to like every romance song in existence, of course I had to draw them to mr. Lovernan; its only natural! And this song fits them so well too… the ways that Kalim talks to Jamil are so sickenly sweet and loving, they make Jamil wish he was gone. I think it’s so perfect to have that one voiceline where Kalim says Jamil’s name, but not with his usual trust or love or kindness, but rather with disbelief, fear, and confusion. That way the song can have a double meaning for them! Kalim’s sweet words make Jamil sick, but when Jamil’s plans fell apart and Kalim called out for him, confused and refusing to believe that his closest companion would betray him, it still makes Jamil’s stomach churn. I bet that sometimes Jamil wishes Kalim could just shut up.

But Jamil still cares about Kalim, still remembers when they were friends. Their relationship is complex, and though he hates it, I think he still does love and care deeply about Kalim, but all those feelings are just in a very weird and difficult place. I absolutely adore that double meaning! The ways in which Kalim talks to Jamil makes Jamil feel a lot of things, negative, positive, and he hates it. But “wishing i were gone” and “running on and on” can apply to both his negative feelings of desperation, hatred, loathing and disgust, and also those feelings that deep inside make him wish their situations were different, that things didn’t end up like this. Jamil lies a lot, also to himself, and all his feelings are so tangled and stuck (dude is super emotionally constipated and needs therapy fr). I LOVE the character development Jamil and Kalim got in book 6 and 7, because they’re slowly making their way towards building a healthier, mutual relationship, and I’m so happy for them! I will be eagerly awaiting the day their relationship is fixed, and they’re happy with themselves, eachother, and life

As always, please remember that these are just MY interpretations of and takes on these characters! If you disagree or want to share your own interpretations, thats valid, and please do share! I love to read analysises and rambles! :)

——

Drawing has been really difficult again; im busy with school and I can’t get myself motivated to draw. Social Media has also been bumming me out. I’m really sensitive, and there’s been a lot of negativity on my fyps and timelines, which has just killed my mood. Good news also though- the twst anime finally got a release date??! I have been waiting for this for YEARS, and I can’t wait to see our boys animated and for the fandom to grow and for new merch! There’ll be so much more cool fanart, new character discussions and analysises, new people who get to experience twst for the first time!

Kalim is such a cutie, he’s so fun to draw! (Until suddenly my hands decide they don’t know how to draw him anymore).

(GUYS HAVE YOU SEEN THE UPCOMING CATER CARD??? IM NOT OKAY HE LOOKS SO GOOD AFHAGSGDHJ)

[avelera]

Analysis: Why Jayce broke up with Mel in Arcane 2.08

Since the finale episodes of Arcane dropped this morning, I've been going back and re-watching some of my favorite scenes, and I was struck by Jayce breaking up with Mel.

First of all, yeah, he clearly does break up with her, though I missed how formally he does so on my first watch-through. He does it in the Council chamber, just before Viktor attacks. But since they get interrupted, he finishes breaking up with her (after checking in with her) on the balcony later.

But what really struck me about the breakup wasn't in those scenes, but actually back in 2.07, when Jayce is alone in cavern in the darkest timeline. I definitely didn't catch on the first viewing that this is where he chose to break up with her.

In the background, you can hear Jayce in the depths of his despair and solitude starts going over in his mind all the steps that led him to where he is.

Here are some of the quotes he hears:

"I never asked for this!" - Himself to Viktor, trying to justify his actions up to that point just before Viktor leaves him.

"This research is everything, my whole life," a quote from one of his first conversations with Viktor but, more importantly, it establishes Jayce's entire raison d'etre up to that point. Hextech research was his life.

"He was my mentor, Mel, and I betrayed him," obviously is Jayce discussing the coup d'etat against Heimerdinger he orchestrated to save Viktor, but it was with Mel's assistance and urging.

"You must destroy it. It corrupts. Consumes." A quote from Heimerdinger, warning against Hextech. Which must feel especially prescient now that Jayce is stuff in the evil bombed-out future where Hextech destroyed the world.

"I was trying to create magic." Jayce to the Council to defend his Hextech research and save himself from banishment, but, he only mentioned magic at Mel's goading, which I would guess he's beginning to recognize now for what it was in retrospect.

"It's your time now, Jayce." Mel, part of her goading of Jayce into advancing Hextech research and his political career.

"Perhaps it's time for the era of magic." Mel's words on the night she saw Hextech for the first time, after helping Jayce and Viktor break into Heimerdinger's lab.

"You must destroy it." Heimerdinger about the Hexcore, again, probably feeling pretty prescient right now with Jayce literally in the pit of despair in a the evil Hextech future.

Finally, while looking out over the fire while clearly going nearly insane from the isolation, Jayce begins to hallucinate seeing Mel. But then, her image in the fire gives way to Viktor's.

The decision has been made there. It's not just Jayce reflecting on his two closest loved ones (as I thought the first time), rather, it is the moment Jayce makes his decision: he is picking Viktor over Mel. He has decided that the reason he is here in this terrible place is because of Mel, not Viktor. He is choosing his partner, going back to what they had before she became involved in their life. His new course is set.

Now, I want to preface the next part by saying I love Mel, she's a fascinating character, and though I ship Jayvik I also ship/shipped MelJayVik, so this isn't coming from a place of bias. I'm just analyzing the material when I say these flashbacks were Jayce rearranging the narrative in his head and realizing Mel's been manipulating and goading him in his pursuit of Hextech.

Given where he is when this is happening: starving, freezing, in pain, alone for weeks if not months in a stone box, slowly going insane, surrounded by the burnt corpses of people destroyed by Hextech, I'd say... yeah. His need for someone to blame is pretty understandable. He even starts whispering, "No!" in a panic at the memories in response to what she says in his mind.

So when we get to the Council chamber in the main timeline in 2.08, I'd argue that Jayce is spoiling for a fight. He's had months of agony to decide things are over with Mel and that he's angry at her. He wants to blame her for what happened to Viktor, for what happened to him, and he's in pain and he wants to lash out. The relationship is definitely over.

But then Mel is in pain too. And Viktor shows up, with his own autonomy, showing that they all had their shitty parts to play in this drama.

The attack by Viktor adds another element, Jayce was probably also mourning that he had to shoot Viktor at that point, another thing that was painful and made him want to lash out and blame others for this horrible place he's in emotionally and the horrific place he's been in physically until recently.

It's only after Viktor's attack though that Jayce realizes that this situation is complex, it's not all Mel's fault. It would be easier to just pin all the blame on Mel and make Jayce and Viktor her victims, but Viktor shows to him that he has his own agency and Jayce needs to be clear-eyed going forward about who he is saving, because it's not "Mel's victim". Viktor is his own person.

Jayce also remembers some of the care he once had for Mel when he catches her before she falls (in a tender moment I mistook for a full reconciliation between them the first time but no, it's just him remembering he cares for her wellbeing). Jayce can't trust her anymore, after realizing just how adept she was at manipulating him without his realizing, but he does still care for her as a person. And he's cooled off enough to address the pain she is clearly carrying.

(I admit, I do love this moment of him calling himself an ass, because I adore Jayce but it's a lovely beat of self awareness and really shows his growth as a person that he can say this to someone that just hours before he was squaring up to fight against and blame for all his misfortunes.)

But anyway, the moments you really see that it's over between Mel and Jayce:

When he doesn't explain to her what happened to him. That's not for her to know anymore. He's decided that they're not together or intimate anymore. And he's probably still hurting from realizing how she's used what he told her in the past to encourage/manipulate him to her own ends and therefore wary of sharing. This is also a reason for the breakup: he can't share the immense pain he's been in because he can't trust her anymore, and he knows it. It's over.

In the scene on the balcony when he turns away from her instead of towards her before offering his advice. Jayce is very touchy-feely, he always offers physical comfort to his loved ones. But there, he deliberately turns away instead of taking her in his arms and comforting her. Again: it's over between them. But he still respects her. So he reminds her of how indomitable she is, along with offering the slight backhanded compliment born of his distrust for her: she's never the passenger, she is always the one in control. He knows, because he's realized she used to control him.

I've mentioned in other meta that this season deals in a lot of comeuppance for events in S1, and this is arguably Mel's. She'll be ok, she's got magical sun powers and she's the head of a powerful house now. But she doesn't get to keep Jayce in her life as her lover anymore after what she did, because she did manipulate him, even if she had good intentions mixed with the self-interested ones.

The trust is simply gone now. But he cares for her and wishes her well, so, I'd argue they parted on as good of terms as could be done.

[spxllcxstxr]

At Least in that Life • S

(Gif not mine)

Request:

Summary: Ekko finds that Silco is alive and well with his wife by his side in the alternate timeline. He feels the need to tell you about it

Warnings: fem!reader (called wife at some points), no pronouns used though I believe, canon death mention, AU mention, implied Timebomb, angsty : ) , mentions of canon unhealthiness that comes with living in the Undercity, timeline is screwy but idc and neither should you LOL

Word Count: 2.3k

A.N: listen, i know he was a little fruity with Vander in the AU BUT i still need this man desperately, don't worry about the timeline i stg, this is actually pretty sad lmao, have fun with it

•

Ekko stares at the man behind the bar; face simultaneously instantly recognizable and drastically changed. The scar was the same mangled mess across one side of his face, but that was where the similarities ended.

In his timeline, Ekko remembers Silco as a cruel bastard with only room in his heart for his wife and Jinx. He never smiled nor ever had reason to. This Silco had a glint of brightness in eyes, even in the orange mutated one, that he would've never associated with the crime lord. The boy stands there, facing the middle-aged man in front of him as he waves his goblet around, body flowing with movement; no strain evident in his posture.

He's talking, Ekko knows this, they're all speaking to him like they aren't either dead or an enemy. But they aren't--these versions of the people he once knew in his own timeline are different.

His eyes drift briefly to you, teeth bared in a smile he hasn't seen since he was a child. You look like that one day, seemingly ages ago, when you kept and eye on him, Powder, and Violet, just days before the uprising. At that point you hadn't been corrupted by the deaths of your closest friends or your husband's vile need for justice. You had a sort of youth to you, though your hair was twinged with greys like Vander's and Silco's, you were practically wrapped around his slender frame, gesturing wildly.

Life had not just been given to Vander, but to you and Silco as well.

His breath hitches and his head throbs with a sharp pain unlike any other.

Ekko squeezes his eyes shut, the vibrancy of the Anomaly imprinted on the backs of his eyelids. Distantly, he hears Powder's voice, like a song in his ear, with a type of kindness he's almost completely forgotten.

When he snaps back to reality, whatever that now meant, he was sitting at a table, away from the bar, with Powder to his right and Mylo and Claggor across from him. They watch him, expecting him to act normal, like he was meant to be here.

"I think you might actually be going crazy," Powder laughs, the sound like a sweet summer breeze as it drifts by him. Her eyes scan over him worriedly.

Ekko swallows roughly, willing the wave of sickness to pass quicker. "I--I'm fine. I think I'll just grab water or something?" Swiftly he rises from his seat, partially unbalanced. He hates that his clothes are a perfect fit and his shoes are comfortable enough he can wiggle his toes around.

He walks to the bar, the sounds of rowdy laughter and girlish giggles surrounding him. The ease of it all is overwhelming.

"What'll you have, Ekko? Your usual?"

Ekko glances at you, taking you in now that you're within arm's reach. The only sign of age are your laugh lines around the corners of your lips. Gone are the sunken, tired eyes and ghastly paleness of skin caused by the contaminated air of the Undercity. You were healthy; sure there were a few scrapes here and there, but your cheeks were filled out, Ekko noticed.

"U-usual?" He manages to croak out before the silence got too concerning.

Obviously worried, your brows furrow and lips purse. "I'll just get you a water then, huh? You're not acting like yourself." You busy yourself, bringing up a glass from the shelf at your knees.

Silco is on the other side of the bar, talking to strangers with Vander. He barks out a laugh, nothing he's ever heard before, and runs his free hand through his already ruffled hair.

The glass clinks on the wooden table in front of him, snapping him out of his trance.

"Are you sure you're ok, Ekko? You don't look so good..." You place the back of your hand to his forehead, reaching over the bartop. The coolness of your skin brings him relief, but he knows you're not going to find he has a high temperature. Physically, he was mostly fine. Mentally, however, was another story.

He thinks about how most of these people are dead men walking or empty shells of their former selves back where he's from. Ekko can't shake the empty feeling he has in his heart.

This was the way things should have been.

"So how are things with you and Silco?" He asks, ignoring your previous question as you bring your hand back to your side.

Leaning against the bar you inspect him for just a moment longer. The boy picks up his glass and almost drains it in one go, which seems to satisfy you for now.

"Me and Sil?" You glance at him quickly, face burning. "We're married, kid, we bicker and are right pricks to each other...but in the end we love each other more than anything in the world. That's how it goes." You sigh, resting your head in one of your hands thoughtfully. "Why do you ask?"

Ekko fiddles with the collar of his shirt. "He just seems so happy. Despite...everything, y'know?"

Lips tilt down slightly in a solemn frown. "It was hard for him, forgiving, that is. He thought we had to endure bloodshed to assert Zaun's rightful existence; he thought it was the only way to get Piltover to listen." Your eyes glance down to the polished wood holding you up. "It was all he knew. And after the incident...after losing our friends and his eye...it was all just a hard pill to swallow."

Silco's laugh once again echoes through the air. You smile immediately, head perking up at the mere noise of your husband. "I never thought I'd see him smile after what we lost--after Vander's wakeup call." Ekko watches as your eyes grow wet with unshed tears. "But here he is, my Silco, living the life he always dreamt of..."

"And you?" Ekko shifts from side to side, feet shuffling below him.

"What about me?" You ask, willing the tears away, busying yourself with wiping the countertop between the two of you.

"Are you happy as well?"

For a moment, you pause, pondering the weight of his question. Ekko, the boy you've come to treat as your son, the boy you trust your Powder with, looks at you like you're not quite right. His eyes gaze into your soul with an intensity that's hard to decipher.

Little moments from your life flash before your eyes; swaying to music with Silco in your kitchen as dinner cooks on the stovetop, you and Vander venturing into Piltover to get more supplies for the bar, Silco's soft gaze and his warm lips against your skin.

"I never thought I could ever be this happy." You tell him truthfully, voice just slightly above a whisper.

Something breaks in his eyes, in his demeanor, but he nods anyway. Something wasn't right--that much was obvious, but before you're able to pick his brain he leaves you at the bar, almost sprinting back to Powder and his friends. She greets him with a smile but her fingers twitch nervously under the table.

With a huff you attend to the other patrons at the bar, occasionally catching Ekko's eye as you walk around your space. He watches you and Silco work in tandem like husband and wife. Even with Ekko's mind already severely overwhelmed with the world around him, he notices when your fingertips purposefully brush when handing glassware over to the other and the small kisses that accompany some flirtatious or loving remark. His head spins and senses buzz with the overload of what could have been.

He leaves without saying goodbye to you or Silco, thought you do call out to him before he exits, you, wrapped in Silco's arms.

"I don't know how to tell you this--or even if I should tell you this." Ekko sits in front of you, tinkering with his hoverboard. Jinx stands feet away, quietly eavesdropping while glancing over blueprints she probably already knows by heart. "But Jinx said you might wanna know."

With a frown already etched into your face, you raise your eyebrows at him. You hadn't spoken to Ekko in years especially since Vander's betrayal of your husband and Vi's abandonment of Jinx. But with Piltover and Zaun under attack, he requested your presence with the Firelights. You parted ways with your husband's right hand man Sevika, hoping that you would see each other again, but predicting that that simply wasn't realistic.

"Just spit it out, kid." You reply, exhaustion lacing your words. Fatigue had infiltrated deep in your bones; Silco's death had taken a large toll on you--you were the last of you little makeshift family alive, though Vander was dead to you long before his final breath left his body.

You were quite the contrast to you counterpart in the alternate timeline. Ekko knew this before, but the accentuated frown lines and lifelessness that surrounded your very being just hit him full force.

He takes a deep breath, cautious of how you were going to react. "I went to an alternate timeline and Silco was alive there." Ekko forces out in one breath.

You stare blankly at the boy, your mind somehow not registering what he was saying.

"That was my reaction too..." Jinx murmurs, her voices echoing in the vastness of her metal lair.

A wave of vertigo washes over you, submerging you in its depths. It's hard to breathe. But somehow you will yourself to stay calm in present company. Now was not the time to be weak.

"An alternate timeline?" You manage to ask weakly, drawing your arms closer to your chest and uneasily wrap them around your frame.

"Don't even ask me to explain it because I don't think I could," Ekko chuckles humorlessly. "But it was a timeline where Zaun and Piltover were at peace, where you could openly cross the bridge and not worry about what would happen to you. Zaun and Piltover thrived together."

You scoff at the notion, shaking your head in disbelief. "Are you sure this wasn't a dream?"

"No. This was real." Ekko's deep brown eyes gaze into yours, something painful swimming in his irises. He's different from the boy you once knew; he's seen something, dealt with something he had lost--had to leave behind. The seriousness laced in his tone convinces you.

You nod, indicating that he can continue as you pick at your nails. You try to brace yourself for whatever he's about to say, but you can't. There was no way to predict what was going to come out of his mouth. But the thought of Silco being alive somewhere kills you inside; your stomach churns and your heart aches for your one and only.

Ekko only sighs before explaining to you what he saw, occasionally pausing to recollect his thoughts or add another component onto his hoverboard.

He tells you about the Silco that could have been--should have been--yours. How his laughter filled the already boisterous main room of The Last Drop, how when a certain song played he would drop everything just to twirl you around behind the bar. Ekko described the brightness of his once clouded eyes and the genuine smile that was always present on his face. Your love was so palpable wherever the two of you went.

Powder confessed once, he told you, while looking over countless notes and equations late at night, that if she were to ever get married, she would want exactly what you and Silco had.

Ekko has you clinging onto each sentence trying to savor each and every word as if you were on your deathbed. You try to picture him in your mind, the greying tousled hair, healthy figure, and tendency to smile. The images are faint against the darkness of your eyelids, blurry from the passage of time.

"He's happy?" You ask quietly.

Ekko nods.

"And am I--Is she happy?" You ask again, stuttering at the thought that this person was not you. You were not the one sharing these intimate moments with your husband; these were strangers, who you could've been.

Again, Ekko nods silently, eyes cast downwards.

You feel your bottom lip start to tremble and tears fight to escape and fall down your cheeks. The lump in your throat grows bigger.

What could've been had haunted you ever since Vander's attack on Silco. It had loomed over you and your husband and suffocated you after his death. To know it was so much sweeter than you ever could have imagined...

Your breathing is uneven when Ekko finally stops talking; other than your labored breath the room was silent. You attempt to collect your thoughts and your emotions but they keep slipping through the cracks between your fingers.

"I shouldn't have told you..." Ekko mutters, apologetically. Eyes swimming with pity, he lays a comforting paint-stained hand on your shoulder. Behind him, Jinx stares blankly down at her boots.

"No it's ok, kid." You sigh, willing away the waves of tears threatening to spill over. "It was good to hear."

"Really?" He looks at you, unconvinced.

"It's good to know that me and Silco get a happy life, y'know?" Your attempt at a small smile partially works, but Ekko can still see the distraught written so clearly all over your face. "One where we can smile and laugh and live. If it couldn't be here, I'm happy it was at least in another lifetime."

Ekko helps you stand, still concerned for you.

With an uneven sigh you turn away from Ekko and Jinx who watch you intently, projects forgotten on the floor or scattered across a small table.

"I need some air." You tell them, ambling slowly to the exit, hoping for the cool polluted air to swallow you whole.

•

[transit-fag]

Meanwhile in an alternative timeline where the trolleys were bought by city governments in the 40s and kept operating instead of getting torn out:

Janis: "Hey Janet, you heading to the grocery store? Could you pick up some of those tacky Van Gogh themed plates, I'll pay for your trolley fare, here's 3 dollars"

Janet: "No you stupid asshole, I am heading to the fucking art museum for an inspection on the missing Picasso piece, why don't you take the fucking trolley yourself"

Janis (under her breath): "that selfish bitch, she knows I am banned from that grocery store, I would have to take 4 trolleys and the subway to get to the closest store selling those plates that doesn't have me banned"

Janis (out loud): "Fuck you"

[chahnniesroom]

cross my heart

pairing: bang chan & female reader, hwang hyunjin & female reader

summary: chan has quickly become one of your closest friends at university. too bad his girlfriend, hayoon, has him wrapped around her little finger and she's determined to make your life miserable. hyunjin is just enjoying watching the drama unfold.

word count: 4.0k

tags/warnings: angst!!! hurt and maybe some comfort?, infidelity (not between the reader or chan/hyunjin), arguing, the relationships with the reader are more like friendships than dating (please let me know if you think there should be more tags/warnings)

a/n: totally thought this was going to be a short fic (like less than 1k words) but it blossomed into something more. i wanted to try something different with this fic but not sure if i pulled it off lol please be kind if you comment! i also did not to bother with honourifics so... you can pretend that chan, hyunjin, and y/n are all the same age 😅

read it on ao3 | masterlist

It's almost funny how quickly you and Chan become friends. 

You hadn't really been looking forward to taking a technical writing class, but it's one of the requirements to get your degree and at least the lecture is large enough that you won't have to do any in-class participation. When the professor announces that one of the very first assignments is going to be completed in random pairs, you're instantly nervous. It’s only after meeting Chan, who is easygoing yet studious, that you feel better.

Although the group assignment only takes a couple weeks to finish, you find yourself hanging out more and more. Chan has a natural way of writing, he's intelligent and efficient with his wording without sacrificing clarity. While you can eventually write something that’s fairly clear and concise, it takes a lot of effort and a lot of time so you're grateful to be working with Chan who doesn't struggle with tight timelines like you do.

The two of you grow close together, especially once you realise that you have a similar sense of humour and taste in music. It doesn't take long before technical writing is your favourite class. Chan always saves you a seat beside him, even though he has quite a few friends that are also taking this course. You’re not used to it at first, but you grow comfortable with the way that he leans over to make quips about whatever the professor is saying or pointing out if someone in the lecture hall is falling asleep. You sometimes bring him snacks and in exchange he brings you a drink.

The more you learn about Chan, the more you're convinced that he's perfect.

Well, apart from one thing.

The worst thing about Chan is his girlfriend. Jung Hayoon absolutely hates you and, behind Chan's back, never fails to make sure you know it too. While the two of you have never shared any courses, she regularly meets Chan after class is over and you've been invited to join them and some other friends for a meal or to study so you've interacted with her more than you want to.

You’re not quite sure what you've done to earn Hayoon's ire, but you can only guess that it's your blossoming friendship with Chan as she’s never seemed to care about you before you met him. She takes every opportunity to make backhanded compliments, pointed comments about how much or what you're eating, or loudly exclaim when you have something stuck in your teeth. You try not to let it get to you, but you've always been a bit too sensitive.

You start declining offers to hang out with Chan and the rest of his friends after class, trying to ignore Chan's disappointment and Hayoon's smug smile every time that you make excuses.

Of course, she's sickly sweet around Chan, constantly hanging off his arm, batting her eyes at him, and trying to hold his attention. You can't really stand her obviously fake behaviour, but she makes Chan happy so you don't say anything negative about her when Chan's around.

You aren’t the type to keep up with school gossip, but even you know that Hayoon's track record is far from pristine. In fact, you were surprised to hear that someone as genuine and kind as Chan was in a relationship with someone like Hayoon.

—

The library isn't your favourite place to study, but partway through midterm season you're desperate for a change in scenery. You spend the better part of the day completing practice exams for the course you're the most worried about until you finally feel more confident. Satisfied with your progress and excited at the prospect of eating a proper meal rather than the snacks that have kept you going so far, you quickly pack up.

There aren't too many people in the library since it’s so close to the weekend, a lot of students have either finished all of their exams for the week or just given up studying. Maybe that's why your attention seems so drawn to the couple that you pass on the way to the door.

You don't mean to do anything other than quickly glance at them, but the familiarity of the girl catches your eye. The carefully styled hair and slim figure is a common combination to see at your university, but after weeks of trying to avoid her, there’s no mistaking Jung Hayoon.

And it's not Chan that she’s currently kissing.

You stumble away from them, but not before Hayoon looks up and spots you. Instead of panicking or stopping, she continues making out with the boy, maintaining eye contact with you. She even has the audacity to wink. You stare at her for a second, stunned, then bolt out of the building.

You're so flustered that you don't know what to do or where to go. You end up walking to the nearest bench and sitting down heavily in it.

You knew that you didn't like Hayoon, that she was two-faced and had likely cheated on past partners, but you hadn't expected to ever catch her in the act, especially while she was dating Chan. You couldn't fathom why anybody would want anything else when they had him and you had never been able to understand cheating in the first place.

You have to tell Chan, you decide. As much as you hate difficult conversations and it kills you to be the bringer of bad news, you know that you'd never be able to sleep at night if you tried to hide this from him. If you were in his position, you would prefer to know as soon as possible.

You call him as you start heading in the direction of his dorm.

“Hey,” Chan picks up after only a few rings. “Is everything okay? You don't usually call.”

“Uhm-” You have no clue what to say, you didn't think this through enough before dialling. “Where are you? I- Can I come talk to you?”

“Y/n? What's wrong?” Chan's instantly concerned.

“Nothing, I just- I really need to talk to someone right now,” you say quickly. “I'm fine, I mean.”

“Okay. I'm at home right now, but I can come meet you if you need? Where are you?”

“Don't worry about it, I'll head over, if that's okay.”

“Sure,” Chan says, sounding extremely worried. “Be safe, Y/n. I'll see you soon.”

After you hang up, you don't quite run to Chan's place, but you're out of breath and sweaty by the time you make it. You take a moment to compose yourself before requesting access into the building, but you know you still look frazzled. Chan buzzes you in immediately and he’s waiting in the hallway when you step out of the elevator. He guides you into his room, but only after checking you over and making sure that you're physically okay.

“Y/n, you're scaring me,” he says after leading both of you to sit down at his tiny kitchen table. “Tell me what's got you so worked up.”

“Do you know where Hayoon is today?” you ask, probably sounding insane. Chan pauses for a moment, brow furrowed before he responds.

“I know that she has an exam tomorrow, so I assume that she's studying. Why, what's up?”

“She didn't say where or who she was going to be with today?”

“No, but it's not like I'm tracking her all the time. She's her own person, she's not obligated to constantly update me.”

“I saw her at the library.”

“Okay,” Chan says slowly.

“She was with someone else, a guy.”

“Why are you telling me this, Y/n?” Chan asks, starting to sound annoyed. His tone catches you off guard.  “This is why you called me, why you ran over to my place? If you think I'm that controlling-”

“They were kissing,” you interrupt. “She’s cheating on you, Chan.”

“Who was the guy?”

“I- I didn't see him well, his back was towards me so I couldn't recognize him,” you falter.

“Did you take a picture? Was there anyone else around?”

“No- but, I-”

“So I'm just supposed to believe you,” he says flatly.

“What? Why would I make this up?”

“I know that, for some reason, you don’t like Hayoon.” Chan's usually friendly voice is cold and his face is stony. “I can live with that. I mean, of course it would be nice if you were at least civil to her. But at the end of the day, you don’t have to, she’s my girlfriend and not yours.”

“Okay,” you say slowly, “but how would lying about this benefit me at all?”

“She warned me about this, you know. She said you were jealous. Of her. Of us. That you would do something to try and break us up.” Chan laughs, but the sound is empty. “I always defended you, which she hated. I don't know how many times I told her that you weren't like that, that there was nothing going on between us.”

“Well I can assure you that I’m not jealous. That I’m not trying to break you two up.”

“I know that there’s… chemistry between us,” Chan acknowledges. “I don't have that many close female friends and I didn't before I started dating Hayoon either, but I know that I like your company and that you're easy to talk to. But that's all. It's fine if you're interested in me, you can’t help your feelings, but accusing my girlfriend of cheating? That’s sick, Y/n.”

“Are you kidding me? There is nothing going on between us.” you say incredulously. “Listen Chan, I’m saying this, I'm here as a friend. You think I'm lying? You think I want to hurt you?”

“I think that maybe Hayoon had a point when she said you wouldn't be satisfied with just being friends.”

“That's what you think of me?” you ask, feeling hurt. “Even if I was interested, I wouldn't do that. I respect you as a friend, I respect you as a person, and I respect your relationship whether I like your partner or not. But if that’s how you see me, I’m not sure that we were ever really friends. I would never try to sabotage you or anybody that's happily in a relationship.” Chan's face drops at your words.

“Y/n-” he starts to say, but you've had enough of this conversation.

“Look- I came here because I knew I would feel terrible and guilty if I didn't, but I can't convince you of something you don't want to believe.” You shake your head and walk towards the door.

Chan doesn't try to stop you as you leave.

 —

The next day you get to class 15 minutes before it’s supposed to start. You're exhausted, have your eyes swollen from crying when you got back home last night, and most of all, feel hurt. You had been a little worried about how Chan would react to what you had to tell him, but you never expected that he would dismiss you without a thought. It's hard to reconcile with the upbeat and kind seatmate that you're used to.

Instead of your usual seat near the middle of the classroom, you opt for one off to the side that’s often emptier, not wanting to have to talk to or even see Chan. You pull up an assignment that you’ve been procrastinating working on and manage to ignore the rest of your classmates as they filter into the lecture hall. It’s only when someone slides into the seat right next to you that you look up, surprised anybody would approach you when you’re clearly being unsociable and look awful.

“Hyunjin.” You’re too shocked to even say hello.

“That’s my name,” Hyunjin replies, looking unimpressed by your greeting as he pulls out his laptop. “Good morning to you, too.”

“Sorry, good morning. You don’t usually sit with me.” You can’t help but point out the obvious. 

In fact, Hyunjin usually doesn't sit with anyone. He's popular, it'd be hard not to be when you look as good as he does, but it's in a different way than Chan. While Chan seems to know practically everybody on campus, Hyunjin is almost untouchable.

While there are hoards of girls and guys that would love to have even a sliver of his attention, Hyunjin has a small circle of friends and is more interested in escaping the lecture hall to paint or dance than socialise. The only reason that you know him is because one of your closest childhood friends, Minho, is on the same dance crew as him and the three of you sometimes hang out. You wouldn't say that Hyunjin is more than an acquaintance though, he still intimidates you enough that you never would have tried to approach him first.

“And you don’t usually sit over here.” Hyunjin pretends to stretch and turns to look at your usual spot. “Avoiding someone?”

“Maybe.” You blush, embarrassed to be so easily seen through. “Is it that noticeable?”

“Nah, I just figured it was a matter of time before Hayoon got under your skin enough. I'm actually impressed you lasted this long, she really has it out for you.” While Hyunjin is surprisingly perceptive, you've also spent a fair bit of time ranting about Hayoon to Minho, and as a result, Hyunjin is kept up to speed on everything that Hayoon has done to antagonise you. You never realised that he actually paid enough attention to remember or that he agreed that Hayoon treated you like dirt.

“Actually, she’s not the one that I don’t want to talk to. Well, I never want to talk to her, but I’m not avoiding her.”

“No way,” Hyunjin crowds into your personal space, eyebrows raised dramatically. “Chan?”

You’ve had a pit in your stomach since last night’s argument and your mouth dries up at the thought of being so vulnerable, but something about the way that Hyunjin's eyes have widened to the size of dinner plates and his mouth has formed a little shocked ‘o’ is so disarming. 

“We had a disagreement last night,” you admit.

“Hayoon cheated?” he guesses.

Now it's your turn for your mouth to drop open in shock.

“Don't say it so loud,” you hiss. “How did you know?”

“Well, as much as I usually like to give people the benefit of the doubt, especially for something this serious…” Hyunjin grimaces slightly. “I’ve been kind of expecting it. Hasn't she done the same on her past three or four boyfriends?”

“Oof, that bad? I've heard some things, but never really knew for sure.”

“At least,” Hyunjin confirms. “Honestly, I'd be more shocked if she didn't cheat at this point. I'm guessing Chan didn't take it so well if you're upset with him.”

“He's loyal to a fault, literally!” you complain. “In his eyes, Hayoon can’t do anything wrong, he's able to explain away everything she does. He didn’t believe that it was her that I saw.”

“So what are you going to do?” Hyunjin asks curiously.

“Nothing,” you say sullenly. “As much as I'd like to shake some sense into him, he's an adult. He can make his own decisions and if he wants to live in denial, that's up to him.”

“You're a good friend.” Hyunjin reaches out tentatively and after an awkward second, pats your shoulder. “Not everyone would be brave enough to have that kind of difficult conversation. Chan may be stubborn right now, but he'll appreciate it later.”

“Well based on yesterday, I don't think I'm his friend at all,” you huff. “Anyway, if it's okay with you, I don't think that I will make it through the rest of the term if I have to sit over there.”

“Be my guest.” Hyunjin grins and the sight of it makes the lecture a bit easier to sit through.

—

You don’t talk to Chan for the rest of the term. While you stopped outright avoiding him, you’re pretty sure that he’s purposely steering clear of you. Instead, you continue to sit with Hyunjin and pretend that Chan doesn’t exist.

It feels silly that you miss him or that you can’t seem to get over how things ended between the two of you. You had only been friends for two months, you shouldn’t be so hurt every time he purposely turns away from you or when his eyes seem to slide over you like you’re not there.

Hyunjin basically becomes your part-time therapist. Most of the time, it’s enough that he keeps you distracted. He shares all the latest campus gossip with you, allows you to work while he paints, and invites you to hang out with Minho and the rest of their dance crew more than a few times. On the rare occasion when you’re feeling more fragile than usual, he would be willing to spend an evening at your place and listen to you wallow.

“It’s fair that you’re still upset,” he had comforted you once. You had run into Hayoon in the bathroom that afternoon and she had gloated about how nothing and nobody would be able to break her and Chan apart. It had made you feel sick to the stomach. “There was never any resolution. Chan didn’t believe you, doesn’t believe you, even though you went to him with good intentions and it’s reasonable that you would feel hurt or frustrated.”

“I feel so stupid,” you had sniffled. “It’s not even like it was a break up. We were just friends.”

“That doesn’t make it any easier, you’re still missing someone who used to be in your life. It’ll get easier next term when you don’t share a class, I promise.” Somehow, that actually had made you feel better.

“Thanks, Hyunjin,” you had said with a watery smile.

The two of you work out well together, not just because you enjoy each other’s presence, but also because there’s no expectations or pressure. Hyunjin has slowly started to share with you stories about his previous relationships, how he’s hesitant to start dating again after having his heart broken so many times. Even though there are rumours swirling about the two of you, you know that neither of you are ready for it yet and that’s partly why it's so easy to hang out with him.

Tonight, the two of you are just hanging out in his art studio. You're mindlessly scrolling on your phone, you’ve just finished the exam that you've been dreading the most and don't have the brain capacity to even think about school. You know that Hyunjin is doing the same, you can see it out of the corner of your eye, but he's trying to pretend that he's working since his painting is due the next day.

He drops all pretences when he gasps loudly at something that he sees on his phone.

“Y/n,” he says gravely.

“What?” you ask, only slightly curious. By now, you've gotten used to the fact that Hyunjin would react the same way to seeing a cute puppy video as he would finding out about some terrible news.

“A friend just texted me,” he says, still in shock.

“Okay? What did they say?”

Hyunjin looks up at you for a moment, down at his phone, then back up at you.

“ChanandHayoonbrokeup,” he says in a rush, before wincing, clearly afraid of what your reaction is going to be.

“What?” You can't believe your ears.

“Chan and Hayoon, apparently they broke up this afternoon. Someone heard them shouting at each other.”

You put down your pencil slowly, not sure what to think.

“Do you know why?”

“Someone said that they heard that yesterday, Heeyeon and Yikyung broke up because Yikyung cheated on her. I think it must be related,” Hyunjin says quietly.

“Oh.”

“I think there's pictures or a video out there, I haven't seen anything yet though,” Hyunjin continues on, starting to get excited while typing away on his phone. 

“Oh,” you say again, at a loss for actual words.

“Right before the holidays too, that's so-” Hyunjin cuts himself off when he looks up and sees you frozen in place. “Y/n, are you okay? Sorry, I'm sure it's a lot to process-”

“No, it's fine.” You force a smile. “I just- I think I have to go home now.”

“Y/n-”

“Really, it's okay. I just forgot that I have something to do. At home. Sorry.”

Hyunjin stares at you with eyes filled with something akin to pity, but doesn't say anything else. You try to ignore it as you hurriedly grab your things and leave.

—

A few days later you're packing up your bags in preparation to go home for the winter break when you hear a knock at your door. You weren't expecting anybody, but there's a few friends that you have that like to show up unannounced. 

You're not prepared to open the door and find Chan standing behind it.

He looks terrible. He's wearing a huge hoodie and his hair is tucked away behind a beanie, but nothing can hide the way that his eyes are swollen and his skin is lacking its usual colour. You can only guess that he hasn't been able to eat or sleep much judging from the gauntness of his face and dark circles.

“Chan,” you say carefully. “What are you doing here?”

“I'm sorry,” he says with a hoarse voice. “I was wrong.”

“Ah, Hayoon.”

“You heard?” he asks, face crumpling a little at the mention of his ex.

“It's-” You pause for a moment, trying to figure out how to put it delicately. "Someone mentioned it to me.”

“You must hate me.” Chan laughs humourlessly. “I know that I do. I was such a fool for not trusting you. I just didn't want to believe that she would do that to me. Stupid, I know. I'm really sorry that I said all those things to you, that I avoided you as if that would change the truth.”

For months, you've been waiting, hoping that Chan would come back to you and apologise. But actually hearing it isn't as satisfying as you thought. In fact, you don't really feel anything at all.

“I want to make it up to you,” Chan says earnestly. “Are you free? We can go for a meal and catch up. I missed you.”

“Uhm,” you say, not quite sure how to respond. You don't want to say yes, but you're scared to lose this opportunity.

“Actually, she's busy,” Hyunjin says. He steps out from behind Chan and wraps an arm around your waist possessively, nudging you behind him in the process. “I think it would be best if you leave.”

Normally you hate it when other people talk for you, but right now you're grateful that Hyunjin appeared. You're not even sure why he's here, although you mentioned that this was your last day on campus, the two of you didn't have plans to hang out.

“Oh.” Chan falters. “Are you two… together?���

“And if we are?” Hyunjin asks challengingly. You've never seen him this defensive before. “Frankly, it's none of your business. I'm tired of listening to your half-hearted apologies that are months too late and I'm pretty sure that Y/n isn't interested in them either.”

“Y/n?” Chan pleads.

“Hyunjin's right, I think that you should go,” you say from where you're still hidden behind Hyunjin. You're glad that you don't have to look him in the eyes. “I can't- I'm heading home today. I have to pack before my train leaves this afternoon.”

“Right,” Chan says thickly. “Sorry. I- I'm sorry, Y/n.”

You lean into Hyunjin's back for support, squeezing your eyes shut as you hear Chan's footsteps trail away. You don't open them for a long time, even when you feel Hyunjin turn around and wrap his arms around you. Instead, you just focus on the steady thump of Hyunjin's heartbeat and try to remember how to breathe.

read it on ao3 | masterlist

[motorsportbarbie13]

What's A Soulmate? - Part 1

In which something magical begins.

Warnings: none, just a bit of mutual pining. but this will be an angsty one i think. Pairing: Lando Norris X SainzSister!Reader Words: 2.6k

Master List

(a/n: new series alert! friends to lovers featuring lando norris. this one will be several parts spanning from 2019 to present day. I've tried my hardest to make sure the timeline/race results are accurate but I may have adjusted something to make it work a bit better for the story line. this is a total work of fiction, purely for entertainment.)

February 2019 

Woking, Surry, England

“This is not going to be a year of partying and laziness, Chiquita.” Carlos throws you a sidelong glance as he pulls his new McLaren into a parking spot early one February morning. “You are here with me to work, not spend your gap year playing.” 

“If I’m here to work, then you can’t me ‘little girl’ while we’re here, Carlos.” You bite back, hauling your tote bag from the floor of the low slung sports car. 

Carlos chuckles, throwing his arm around your shoulder as you both begin the walk into his new workplace: the McLaren Technology Center. “Fair enough, Chiquita.” 

Last spring, you had graduated from high school and had spent one miserable semester at the University of Madrid in the fall before dropping out just a few months ago. 

Carlos dodges the swat that you aim at his bicep, taking a few quick steps ahead of you as you approach the front door of the large white building. The sprawling MTC is an intimidating building and you knew that if you hadn’t been here with Carlos, there was no way you’d be able to find your way. 

After spending a few listless months bouncing from Carlos’ couch in Monaco back to your parent’s estate in Spain, they had laid down the law. You needed to figure out what you were going to do for the foreseeable future if going back to University wasn’t in the cards for you at the moment. They were fine with you not going back to uni right away, in fact, they encouraged you to take a gap year but they expected you to do something productive with your life while you figured out what you wanted to do. 

And that had been when your older brother had entered the chat. He had finished third year as a Formula 1 driver a few months ago and would be changing teams come the new season in March. In December, he had parted ways with his long time assistant, who wanted to spend more time with her new husband and less time traveling. Carlos and you had always been the closest of the four Sainz siblings despite the six year age gap (his 25 years to your 19) so it had been the most natural thing in the world to have you be his assistant and social media manager for the 2019 F1 season. 

Up until today, Carlos had been attending pre-season meetings and putting time in at McLaren’s sim setup by himself but you had arrived at his flat five minutes from the MTC yesterday, suitcases in hand, ready to get started as your brother’s assistant. It had been ages since the two of you had spent this much time together and while you were mostly excited to spend the year traveling and reconnecting with your big brother, there was a bit of trepidation and anxiety sitting in your chest as you walked through those sliding glass doors this morning. 

You were barely 19 after all, little real world experience and you knew absolutely no one in this entire country beyond your brother. All of your friends were attending university in other countries, far away from the world you now found yourself in. Yes, you were excited but you were also insanely nervous. 

Carlos leads you down a long hallway, lined with trophy cases filled with motorsport winners trophies on one side and sleek F1 cars on the other. It was an entire shrine to McLaren history, of which there was a lot, and you were in awe as you followed after your brother. “Where are we going?” You ask as he turns down another quiet hallway, convinced you’d be utterly lost if Carlos asked you to show him how to get back to the front doors. 

“I have a little office tucked away back here next to Lando’s, I wanted to get you set up with the laptop and sync my calendar so you could get yourself ready.” 

You nod, ears perking up at the mention of your brother’s new teammate, Lando Norris. You knew a little about him from a few causal Google searches. He was 19 like you and this was his rookie season in Formula 1. From everything you read, he was a karting prodigy that had been signed by McLaren for a while and had been tapped to drive opposite of Carlos this year. Just knowing that there would be someone around the offices and on the road that was your age made the tight anxiety that sat in your chest ease just a touch, even if you two didn’t end up being more than acquaintances this year. 

Carlos hadn’t been lying about his ‘little’ office. It was barely more than a broom closet if you were being honest. Just enough room for a desk, a pair of chairs, and a bookshelf, but there was a large window that faced south so at least there’d always be sun spilling into the small space making it feel a little airier. 

You pull your MacBook out of the Dior tote Carlos had gotten you for your birthday last year as Carlos chatters away about schedules, press duties, and what he expected out of you. You listened carefully, taking notes in a little spiral bound notebook as you waited for your laptop to boot up. 

“Are you in here talking to yourself again, Carlitos?” 

Your head snaps up at the sound of an unfamiliar voice and you find yourself smiling at the boy standing in the doorway. He’s a few inches taller than you, with short brown hair, and bright green eyes surrounded by thick black eyelashes. The deep tan of his skin surprises you a bit, considering its February in England and you hadn’t seen the sun since you left Spain yesterday. 

The boy’s face instantly sobers when he sees that your brother isn’t alone. “Oh, I’m sorry.” He blushes, hand coming to cup the back of his neck. “I didn’t realize you had a guest.” 

Carlos laughs, “This isn’t a guest. This is my sister, the one I was telling you about Friday. She’s going to be my assistant this year.” 

“Of course, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Lando.” 

You stand, crossing the small office in just 2 quick strides to shake Lando’s outstretched hand, “Nice to meet you too, Lando.” You say, polite smile playing on your lips. 

Lando turned around then, not wanting to intrude on the sibling time but also needing a moment to collect himself. He had known that you would be spending the season with your bother and that you two were around the same age but what he hadn’t prepared himself for was for how pretty you were. Your hair was even darker than your brother’s and it tumbled over your shoulders in layered waves that shined in a way that made Lando’s mouth go a little dry. Those dark eyes, round and doe eyed, threatened to swallow Lando whole and he’d barely spent more than a handful of seconds in your orbit.

He leaned against the door frame leading into his office, the sound of your laughter drifting through the walls. He had been used to the constant travel that was required of drivers of his caliber, having spent most of his teenage years on the road but all that time, he always had someone with him. His father, mother, manager. Someone that was ‘in charge’ of him and his schedule.

Now though? Now everything is different. He’s of age, a driver in the pinnacle league of his chosen sport, and totally alone. His friends are either jealous of his success or away at school and Lando often finds himself spending the entire weekend alone in his little flat down the road from the MTC. He was happy, of course, ecstatic that he had been given this chance by McLaren but the truth of the matter was, Lando Norris was quite lonely. 

As the image of your face flickered through his mind, Lando felt the tight grip of anxiety ease just a little bit. There was something so open about the way you had greeted him, something about how easy your laugh seemed to come, that told Lando that you were a good person, someone that would somehow be very important to him this year. 

“That is your teammates sister, mate.” Lando mutters to himself as he pushes off the door frame, making a beeline for the sim rig that was on the other side of the MTC, hoping that the time spent focused on racing would be enough to get your image out of his brain. 

April 2019 

Baku City Circuit 

“Lando, I swear to God if you’ve slept in again I’m ordering fish whenever I eat with you for the rest of my life.” 

Somewhere between Australia and China, you had morphed into not only Carlos’ personal assistant but also the assistant and babysitter of sorts to his stupid, idiotic, hilarious teammate. You adored the boy but most of the time he drove you to the brink of absolute madness. 

“I didn’t sleep in! My alarm didn’t go off!” Lando groans, breathless on the other end of the phone. 

“That is literally the same thing. I have one simple job here, Norris: get you and my brother to where they belong during race weekends and right now? You’re making me look like an amateur.” 

“I just got into the paddock, relax darling, no one is even remotely close to being fined by the FIA. I’ll be on the fan stage in five minutes, meet me there?” 

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you desperately try to will away the Landache, the term you’ve come up with when you get a headache caused by the Brit. “Fine.” You breathe. 

It’s your fourth race of the season and while Lando and your brother were seemingly hell bent on driving you to an early retirement, you had never been happier. Managing the busy schedule and life of now two Formula 1 drivers had come naturally to you. Engineers and mechanics in the garage were always a little in awe of your ability to keep the two drivers in line and where they needed to be when. The communications team at McLaren loved you because sometimes, you were the only one who would be able to get the Carlando, as the duo was coming to be known as, to behave. 

It was total chaos pretty much all of the time but you were thriving. You and Carlos were closer than ever, working tighter like a well oiled machine. But Lando and you? You two were the textbook definition of Partners In Crime. While you were the picture of professionalism on the track and during business hours, you were the other half of the chaos gremlin duo that terrorized half the grid. 

Right now though? Now the chaos gremlin was the perfect paddock princess that had to make sure her best friend and brother got to the right places on time. You round the corner of the back stage area, desperately searching for the mop of wavy brown hair covered by a papaya colored hat. 

“Lando!” You call, relieved when your dark eyes catch with a familiar pair light colored eyes. Today, they were an icy blue thanks to the bright desert sun of Baku. “I didn’t think I had to add ‘alarm’ to my list of race weekend duties.” You grouse, brushing at the dust on his team polo. 

Lando shakes his head, easy smile spreading across his face. “Am I late though?” 

You glare at him, “No.” You huff. 

“I would never make you look bad, pretty girl.” He winks and your stupid stomach does its traitorous little flip that it’s been doing lately. It’s disgusting. 

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Norris.” 

“And please welcome to the stage, McLaren drivers Carlos Sainz and Lando Norris!” The presenter calls from behind Lando’s shoulder, interrupting your sparring match. 

Lando gives you a wink before spinning around following your brother up the stairs of the stage. 

July, 2019

Germany 

“That was my fifth DNF this year.” The pain in Lando’s voice sends your stomach twisting. You follow behind him, hands wringing together, as he stalks down the hallway of the hotel in Germany. The race had finished up hours ago but Lando had just been released from media duties a bit ago. Carlos had been caught up in some post-race meetings so you had hitched a ride back to the hotel with Lando instead but now, as you followed his stiff frame stalk down the hall, you wondered if that had been a good idea. 

“Lando, it wasn’t your fault. Your car lost power, it’s not like you binned it into the wall or anything.” 

Reaching his room, Lando stops and pulls out the key before letting himself in. He leaves the door open though, indicating he wanted you to follow him. “I know that.” He groans, scrubbing his hands over his face. The hotel room is pretty normal where hotels are concerned, 2 queen sized beds dominate the space with a large flat screen tv on the opposite side. Lando flops down on the farthest bed, his eyes closed. 

“I’ve barely finished in the points yet this season. Haven’t had a sniffing chance at a podium. I feel like such a fucking fraud.” 

You had stopped just inside the door, wanting to give Lando some space as he had his tantrum but now, seeing how truly upset he is, you cross the carpeted floor and sit down next to your best friend. “Lan.” You coo, running your fingers through his hair, knowing how the scratches from your nails relaxes him. “Lan, it’s okay. You knew coming in, just like Carlos, that McLaren is in a bit of a rebuilding stage. This isn’t unexpected.” 

The problem with Lando is that he is utterly too hard on himself. You had clocked the fact quickly, by the time you had been landing in Australia for the first race of the season, you knew he needed to work on his confidence. 

“I know. I mean, I don’t know but I know that you know and I trust you enough to know that you know what you know is right.” 

Your head spins. “Pardon me?” 

Laughter spilling from your lips pops the bubble of tension in the room, Lando unable to keep the smile off his face either.

“You heard me.” He gripes, sitting up. “And I know -” He stops, glaring at you when you double over with laughter once again. “I know you understood me, you cheeky monkey.” 

“I’m sorry but I’m just so terrified by the fact that I did understand that whirlwind of a sentence and can’t decide how to process it.” You say, chest heaving from laughing so hard. “We’ve been spending too much time together.” 

Lando grabs the remote from your hand before turning on the movie you had both fallen asleep to last night before the race. “Are you going to be mean to me all night, or are we going to finish this movie?” 

You roll your eyes, but toe off your shoes before settling against the headboard of the bed, shoulder bumping with Lando’s as he joins you. “Pizza or sushi for dinner?” You ask, grinning because you already know the answer. 

“You’re an idiot.” 

“Love you too, Lan.” You counter, pulling out your phone to order some pizza. 

Tag List: @anilovessadbooks, @shelbyteller, @formulaal, @martygraciesversion381, @longhairkoo, @samantha-chicago, @stelena-klayley @dark-night-sky-99 @luckylampzonkland, @chlmtfilms , @inarabee @aykxz98 @forensicheart @cheer-bear-go-vroom @charlesgirl16

*as always, if you want to be added to the tag list, leave me a comment or send me a message*

[cosmicdahlias]

Christmas Across the Rio Grande

Logan Howlett x Reader

MINORS DNI

Christmas has come and you’re spending it getting drunk with an old, hardened Logan.

tags: age gap, alcohol use, drunk sex, couch sex, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie

sooo timeline-wise this takes place at the end of 2028. i tried to do my best research as to when caliban comes into the picture and there wasn’t much, but from what i’ve read it seems logan recruited him some time in 2029, so he will not be in this fic. sorry for posting a christmas fic a day late, i only got the idea for this two days ago 😭

Life had not been the same in months. Charles Xavier, once head and founder of Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters, had developed dementia, leading to frequent destructive telepathic seizures. One such seizure became known as the Westchester Incident, leaving the school destroyed, many injured, and some of your fellow mutants dead.

Having grown up in an orphanage until aging out of the system and spending the first eight years of adulthood on the streets, Charles was the closest thing you’d ever had to a father and the school was the only place that ever truly felt like home. In such a short time you had lost both. Even though Charles was still very much alive, the dementia left him a shell of his former self.

After Westchester the United States government declared Charles’ brain as a “weapon of mass destruction”, leaving you and another mutant to take him and go on the run, fleeing to an abandoned smelting plant in Mexico just across the Rio Grande.

The other mutant was the notorious Wolverine, Logan Howlett. For reasons unknown to you, his appearance had changed dramatically in the last five years. Despite not being able to age he looked like he’d gone from forty to sixty in record time.

Since escaping with you and Charles to Mexico, Logan had taken to going by “James”, his actual name, and worked as a limo driver in the border city of El Paso. He would regularly smuggle in the drugs to keep Charles’ seizures at bay.

In the days before Westchester you were never fond of Logan. He was a loner, seeming to keep everyone at arm’s length, save for those he would bed. Perhaps it was his tendencies towards promiscuity when he claimed to be in love with Jean Grey, a married woman, that irked you more than his personality.

He was passed around the mansion so frequently that from what you’d heard there were times he accidentally “double booked” himself. There was a part of you, buried somewhere deep, that harbored a resentment towards him for never seeking out your affections like he did for nearly any other adult with a pulse.

Living in close proximity since being thrust into exile with him had softened your opinions considerably. The shared trauma of losing everything and everyone had brought you two closer, as close as he would allow.

December was coming to an end. The nights were blisteringly cold and the winds only served to make them colder. The poorly insulated, run-down plant did little to protect you from the elements.

You were heading back inside from painstakingly, but successfully, attempting to medicate Charles. The heavy gales howled, making it a struggle to close the door before finally managing slam it shut. You turned around to see Logan sitting on the couch, bottle of whiskey in hand. He was wearing his typical non-work attire, a white tank top and jeans.

“He finally down?” He asked.

“For now, I swear those drugs used to knock him out for longer. He wouldn’t stop going on about Taco Bell for some reason.”

“Yeah, he uh… he does that a lot now.”

You gave a heavy sigh.

“It just sucks because it makes those moments where he acts like himself again hurt more.”

“What’d he say this time?”

“He just- I don’t know- whenever he actually says my name I know it’s him in there. Most of the time he calls me Jean, but I-“ your voice began to break “I don’t know how much more of this I can take Logan, watching his mind wither away into nothing.” You said, tears forming in your eyes.

For a moment you swore you saw a flicker of concern spread across his face.

“I’m thinking of bringing in some extra help.” He said.

“And what? We risk someone else knowing that we’re harboring a fugitive?”

“With me working that leaves you as the only one here most of the time. If god forbid something happens while I’m out and he hurts you, what then?”

You fell silent. He was right, you couldn’t keep caring for Charles alone when his seizures could be so dangerous and unpredictable. You had no rebuttal.

“Fine, but finding another mutant won’t be easy.”

“I’m well aware, but I’m done talking business, you look like you could use a drink.”

Logan extended out his bottle of whiskey, a rare invitation for you to join him. You smirked and took it.

“Look at you actually wanting to interact with someone for once.”

“Don’t make me regret it.”

You sat next to him on the moth-eaten couch, drinking a few shots worth from the bottle.

“Thirsty?” Logan asked with a cocked brow.

“Shut up, it’s been a long day.” You retorted, downing another shot and handing the bottle back to him.

Between the two of you the whiskey was finished within half an hour, leaving you significantly intoxicated, him slightly less so. When drunk Logan was far more open, and for the first time since Westchester you actually saw him smile. As the night progressed the two of you reminisced about life before Mexico and shared life stories you hadn’t told each other.

“A cage fighter?” You giggled.

“Yeah, went by Wolverine back then too.”

“Wow, too lazy to even try to come up with another name?” You teased as you looked down at your phone and read the time, midnight of the 25th.

“Oh shit, it’s already Christmas.” You said.

“Honestly wouldn’t have known if you didn’t say anything, the days just run together at this point.”

“No kidding, everything’s so different now.”

“… Yeah.”

A wistful silence hung in the air for a moment before you spoke.

“You know it’s hard not to miss the holidays back at the school… can’t say I miss Jean’s cooking though. I know how you felt about her, but that woman could not season food to save her life. I’m pretty sure she thought salt was too spicy.”

Logan gave a chuckle.

“Can’t disagree with you on that one.”

“I think what I miss most was seeing the kids all happy on Christmas morning, growing up in an orphanage I never got that for myself. Thanks to Bobby they always had a good snowball fight.”

“I miss that kid. Him and Rogue.”

“Kid? They were both pushing 40.” You laughed.

“They were kids when I met them and that’s always how I’ll remember them. Especially Rogue.”

“I always thought she saw you as like a father figure.”

“She definitely did, no matter how many times I told her not to.”

“I miss her so much, she was the first one other than Charles to make me feel like I belonged there. Fuck, I just miss all of them. It was only five years, but it was the best damn five years of my life, actually having something like a family.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean.”

You gave a wry smile.

“And in the end out of all of the X-Men to be stuck with of course it had to be you.” You teased, elbowing him playfully.

“You say that like it’s a joke, but you really had it in for me.”

“I mean I did, but you didn’t exactly come off as a nice guy.”

“I can be a nice guy, you just never tried to get to know me.”

“Would you have let me though?”

“Maybe.”

He looked at you in a way you’d never seen from him before, it made your heart do a backflip.

“You know, even if I wasn’t crazy about you back then I’m glad you’re here with me.” You said.

Logan raised a brow.

“Why’s that?”

“Because as much as I hate to say it, I’ve grown to like you.”

“A mistake honestly.” He chuckled.

A cold desert wind suddenly blew against dilapidated smelting plant. Frigid air crept in through the gaps in the walls, eliciting a shiver as it hit you.

“Cold?” Logan asked.

“Y- yeah.“

“Alright, c’mere.”

Logan pulled you against him, wrapping his arms around you. His body radiated an incredible amount of heat, a more than welcoming feeling in the bitter temperatures.

“Holy shit, you’re like a fucking furnace.” You said.

“Yeah? You like it?”

“God yes.”

His hands began to wander down to the small of your back. You traced the outline of his pecs with your fingertips. He looked at you, eyes betraying an intense desire as he cupped your cheek, coming in close.

“Merry Christmas, Logan.” You whispered as his lips met yours.

Starting slow and soft, Logan’s kisses quickly turned more passionate, a distinct hunger to them. He moved his hands to your waist, pulling you onto his lap. You felt his hard cock press into you through his jeans. You rolled your hips against him, causing him to let out a growl. He lowered his head, kissing and gingerly biting your neck. You moaned as his teeth scraped against the soft skin.

His hands began to drift to the hem of your shirt, gathering the fabric in his fingers and slowly lifting it over your head. He unclasped your bra, sliding the straps off your arms and tossing its aside. You watched his eyes take in the curvature of your breasts.

“Good fuckin’ god, you’re perfect.” He whispered, cupping one of your breasts and circling the nipple with his thumb.

Logan’s hands fell to your hips, tugging down your jeans until they landed on the floor with your shirt. His fingers circled your clit over your panties, the thin barrier of fabric did little to keep you from turning into a whimpering mess.

“Goddam, I love those little noises.“

Logan dipped his head down to kiss your neck again, you moaned and began to grind yourself against him.

“Hmm, getting excited there, princess? Feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Uh-huh.” You whimpered.

“Yeah? Let me make it feel even better for you, babygirl.”

Logan hooked his thumbs in the waistband of your panties, sliding them off your legs. He slipped a hand between your thighs, dragging his fingers along the slit of your dripping pussy.

“So wet and worked up for me.”

Logan returned his fingers to your clit, you dug your nails into his shoulders, the feeling of direct stimulation was almost too overwhelming. It had been far too long since you were last touched like this, or even touched yourself. You weren’t going to last much longer.

“F- fuck, I’m- I’m so close.”

“There you go, that’s it. Cum for me, princess.”

Logan pulled you into a kiss with his free hand as you came undone on his fingers, the electric pulses of your orgasm surging through you.

“Oh god, Logan.” You moaned against his mouth.

Logan kissed you aggressively as your orgasm faded. He dropped his head to your breasts, peppering kisses to them as he spoke.

“God, you’re so hot when you cum. You need to see what you’re doing to me, babygirl.”

Logan’s hands moved to his belt, unbuckling it, he unzipped his jeans and freed his already throbbing cock from his boxers. Logan took your hand in his, guiding it to wrap around his shaft. You gathered beads of precum from his head, using it to lubricate the length of his cock as you stroked him.

“Fuuuck, your hand feels good, but I need that pussy. You wanna ride me, princess?”

You nodded.

“That’s my good girl.”

You shifted yourself to hover just above is cock, sinking down onto him, barely taking more than his head before wincing as you felt his massive girth stretch you wide.

“You alright?” Logan asked.

“Y- yeah, just been a while. Not used to one this big either.”

“Then take it slow, princess. Don’t rush it.”

You continued to lower yourself onto his cock, following his instructions to go slow. A small shudder escaped his lips.

“Fuckin’ Christ, you’re so tight.”

You reached the hilt of his shaft, feeling him throb inside you as you began to lift and drop your hips.

“Attagirl, just like that. Nice and easy.” Logan said, his hands moving to your waist, pulling you closer.

“Christ, living with you was starting to drive me crazy. I could barely take seeing you in the summer, your ass in those little shorts. You don’t know how many times I had to jerk off because of you.”

You blushed and whimpered at the thought of Logan getting so worked up over you.

“Hmm, you like that, babygirl? You like knowing you made this old man stroke his fat fuckin’ cock to you?” He grunted as he grabbed your hips, thrusting up into you.

You nodded.

“Use your words, princess.”

“Y- yes, sir.”

“Good girl.”

You moved yourself up and down on his cock, sliding him all the way out until only the head remained before taking his full length back deep inside you. Logan’s eyes wandered over every inch of body. His hand moved to one of your breasts.

“Fuck, I can’t get enough of these tits, and this ass.” He growled.

He raised his hand and brought it down sharply on your ass, eliciting a yelp.

“Sorry, princess, couldn’t help myself.”

“N- no it’s okay, I like it.”

“Oh? You like it rough, huh?”

“Y- yeah.”

“Well, guess I gotta fuck you senseless then.”

In one swift motion Logan grabbed you by the waist, picking you up and throwing you down onto the couch on your back with him on top of you. You barely had a second to adjust to the new position before he forced every inch of himself inside you. He pinned your wrists above your head as he fucked you with a punishing speed.

“How’s that feel? Am I rough enough for you, princess?”

“Y- yeah. F- feels so good.”

“Attagirl.”

Logan’s breathing hitched, his hips stuttering.

“Christ, that tight little pussy’s gonna make me fuckin’ cum. Where do you want it, babygirl?” Logan panted.

“In me, I need you to cum in me. Please.” You whined.

“Jesus, I know you’re not on the pill, but keep begging like that and I’ll have to knock you up.”

“Oh god, please. I don’t care if we’re unprotected. I need it, fucking breed me.” You pleaded.

Your words ignited something within him. He thrusted furiously into you at a blinding pace, his breathing becoming ragged and heavy. He leaned down and sank his teeth into your neck and gave a loud growl, slamming the full length of his cock inside you as he came hot, thick ropes deep in you.

Logan gave a last few thrusts, his breathing beginning to settle. He pressed his forehead to yours.

“Jesus Christ, princess, it’s been way too damn long since someone’s made me feel that good. I hope you know this is not a one time thing, you’re fuckin’ mine now.”

You laced your fingers in his salt and pepper hair, kissing him passionately. He pulled out and you moved to dress yourself, but were interrupted by him grabbing your waist.

“No princess, you’re staying with me.”

He picked you up and carried you to his room, setting you down on the bed. He laid next to you, pulling you to him with your head against his chest. Between the exhaustion of the day and the warmth radiating from Logan, you felt your eyelids grow heavy. He kissed the top of your head as you drifted off to sleep.

[jheselbraum]

Like did Link have regrets and probably some buried resentment for Zelda due to associating her with the events of oot, if mm and tp are anything to go by? Yeah. But let's not pretend that adult timeline Zelda didn't help Mr Kid in an Adult's Body Getting Brothel Jokes Made at Him dodge a fucking bullet. And child timeline Zelda's plan only fell apart because Rauru is an idiot.

You know what's worse than seeing some dudebro blaming OOT Zelda for "ruining Link's life"?

A "Zelink shipper" saying the same thing.

It's like being stabbed in the back lmao

I think not everyone understands her character:(

[polakina]

que maravilla, que bonita

pairing: miguel o'hara x reader

rating: explicit

outline: too busy with keeping everything and everyone in order, Miguel had neglected the person closest to him, and decided to show you how sorry he was

warnings: smut, fluff, oral (fem recieving), squirting, rough sex, you get fucked on the desk, fingering, blood, biting, scratching, blood kink

requests are open! hope you enjoy, petals <3

masterlist

II

A bad temper was an understatement for this man. Since Miles had come and thrown a wrench in Miguel’s life, it had been harder on everyone. You, not so much. But when Miguel came home every night, you could see it was taking a toll on him. Watching the kid, making sure Miles didn’t fuck anything up. Preserving the timeline and canon events made him frustrated, irritated. You wanted to help, but could not think of the right approach. 

He was sat at the desk, mumbling to himself incoherently. You walked up behind him, placing your hands on his shoulders. He tensed up almost immediately, not realising you were even there. The lack of spidey sense really messed with him sometimes.

“Mi corazon,” he grumbled, turning his head slightly towards you, placing a hand over yours and allowing his body to relax. “You’re up late. What are you doing here?” He spun his seat around and you stood between his legs, his hands resting on your waist, drifting down to your thighs.

“You’ve been busy working. I missed you, that’s all,” you whispered, looking down as his thumbs circled patterns into your skin. “Wanted to make sure you were alright.”

He sighed, knowing he’d been neglectful these past few days. He pulled you closer, resting his head on your stomach. “Lo siento, mi amor.” He looked up at you with red eyes, a flicker of brown still amongst them. You just smiled down, shaking your head.

“It’s alright, Miguel,” you assured, running your hands through his hair, along the back of his neck. You kissed the top of his head, and his arms wrapped tighter around you, pulling you closer into his body.

Before you knew it, he had lifted you up in one swift movement. You instinctively wrapped your legs around him as he kicked the chair out of the way and set you on the desk gently. “What are you doing?” You asked, speaking nothing above a whisper. He did not speak at first, caressing your cheek, before slowly letting his hand fall to your shoulder, pushing the strap of your shirt down your arm.

“I have neglected you too long, my love,” he said, his fingers drifting down your sternum slowly, feeling your heart race a little faster with each subtle movement. “I must make up for lost time, should I not?” He looked down at you, a glint of mischief in his eye. His nails were like claws, dragging down your clothes and seamlessly splitting them in two, letting the fabric fall to the floor below. He took you in with his eyes, irises flashing red and brown and everything in between. “Que maravilla. Que bonita.”

He knelt before you, kissing your lower abdomen while looking up at you with lustful eyes. Then he dove in, gently at first. His tongue dragging along your pussy slowly, mouth watering at your taste he had craved for so long. Retracting his talons as to not injure you, he wrapped his hands around your thighs, caging his head between them. 

Your head fell back, your mouth dropping open as you felt him grow more forceful, more passionate. You let yourself lie back against the cool glass of the desk, back arching from the magic he was working between your legs. He sucked and licked your clit, sending shockwaves through your entire body.

“Miguel,” you breathed, back arching as he teased your clit.

“Sí, amor?” He smiled coyly, looking back up at you with wicked intent. “What is it?” He rested his cheek against your inner thigh, his finger teasing your slit and making you shudder.

“Please,” you whimpered. “I need you. Now.”

But he didn’t move. He just smirked. “No, honey. I’m taking my time with you. Don’t want your enjoyment ending too quickly now, do we? We both know I don’t falter like that.” His fingers travelled south towards your dripping entrance, teasing lightly before pushing one of his fingers inside you. You gasped softly at how just his finger could fill you, God only knows how you’d handle his dick.

He put his mouth back to work, simultaneously pleasuring you with his fingers to draw you to your inevitable high. You loved that it always felt the exact same. Just as perfect, just as mind bending and toe curling as every time before. Your mind went foggy and your eyes rolled back as you melted into his touch. 

Your hand wrapped through his hair, gripping him tightly as a second finger pumped in and out of your dripping hole. Your wetness smeared the glass you were laid on, staining the translucent surface.

Miguel could feel you getting close. He didn’t need spidey senses to know that. Your shortness in breath, your grip on his hair growing ever so tight, your legs tensing around him, you were on the edge. Just where he liked you to be.

Feeling your legs begin to shake, and your body tense, you were on the precipice of a feeling only Miguel could ever give you. You moaned out his name, his name continuously falling from your lips as you felt your stomach coil in the most incredible way possible. Until he stopped, removing his fingers from you and standing up straight. Your head lifted off the table, hair strewn across your face and eyes slightly glossed over. “What-what are you doing?”

He smirked, his hands moving to his belt, swiftly unbuckling it in an easy motion. He hadn’t even bothered to wipe the glistening residue of you from his chin. “You think I’m just using my fingers on you, mi vida? You know me better than that,” he wrapped a hand around your waist and pulled you to your feet, spinning you around so that the fronts of your thighs were pressed against the desk. “And I’ve missed you. And I know you’ve missed me,” his hand pushed gently on your lower back until you bent over for him slightly. You felt him press up behind you, your breath faltering as you felt his cock brush against your ass. “You’re frustrated from me being distant, and I’m frustrated with all this work. But…fuck,” he teased the tip of his cock into your dripping pussy, words failing him as he realised how much he had missed this. “We both need this. I need you.”

You nodded and moaned loudly as he pushed in further, filling you up entirely. He felt so good inside you that your head started to spin. You gripped the edge of the desk, holding yourself up with the strength you had left while he gripped onto your waist. Starting slow, Miguel tried to control himself and his urges as he fucked you softly, watching as his cock moved in and out of you. But the sounds of your moans and the way you were calling out his name in your soft voice made him want to pound you into this desk until the glass shattered.

Feeling his thrusts begin to quicken, pushing harder and faster into you, you felt your high coming all too quickly. The desk shook with Miguel’s force, and if not for him gripping your waist to keep you still, you would have been launched over this desk in a matter of seconds.

Miguel gritted his teeth, the pleasure he felt of your pussy tightening around his dick, your juices flooding him as he pounded in and out of you. He began to lose control, his fangs slipping out, his talons protruding and pushing against your skin. Blood was drawn and you hissed, but it didn’t feel nearly as bad as you expected. It actually felt kind of good. But he slowed his movements for a moment, realising his talons cut into your skin and immediately retracted them. “Mierda,” he cursed. “I’m sorry, mi amor.”

You shook your head, craving that feeling once more. “No, don’t apologise, Miguel. And don’t put your talons away, or your fangs,” you breathed out, pushing yourself back against him. His eyebrows raised in surprise, but he smiled, his fangs showing and his talons sharp and long as they dug back into your skin. He thrusted into you once more, hard, passionate. You felt the sting as they penetrated your skin, blood dripping down your thighs to the floor. You let your body fall against the glass, breasts pressing against the desk as the cool surface felt so nice against your warm skin. 

But you didnt stay pressed against the glass for long, as Miguel’s hand wrapped in your hair, gently, but firmly. You pushed yourself up with your hands, and he held you hair, tilting your head to the sky, feeling his breath on your neck. “Darling, if I’d have known you wanted me to use my talons, I would have started this a long time ago,” he grinned, kissing your shoulder, the tips of his fangs brushing against your skin.

He continued to fuck you hard, your nails pressing hard against the glass as you cried out in a mixture of pleasure and pain. His fangs continued to graze your shoulder as he gritted his teeth. You mustered up all strength for words to come out of your mouth. 

“Miguel, mi amor,” you breathed out. His ears perked as he listened. “I didn’t say you should use just your talons.”

Then something switched inside Miguel. It’s as though he almost went feral. His hand gripped your hair tighter, almost to the point it was painful. But you saw it through, a knot tightening within you, sure to snap at any moment. Miguel panted in your ear, it almost sounded as though he was growling. An animalistic urge took over him. 

His thrusts slowed to a steady pace, but they were more powerful, hitting deeper inside you than before. Your mouth fell open and all you could do was moan his name to the open empty room, your voice echoing off the walls. You felt his fangs dig into the skin of your shoulder, digging deeper and deeper until they drew blood. You felt the warm liquid run down your chest and your back, but you never stopped him. His grip loosened on your hair and you could look down to see the bite in your shoulder, and the accumulation of blood that had stained your naked body. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t turn you on a little.

“Come on, bonita,” Miguel groaned in your ear. “I know you’re close. Come for me, baby.” And you were close. So close. Your fingers curled into a fist as you clenched it tight, nails digging into your palms.

“Fuck, Miguel,” you breathed quietly, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you felt yourself clench around his cock. The knot within you tightened mroe and more until you felt a sharp snap inside your abdomen. But it felt different to the previous times, a different sensation taking over you. It grew even stronger when Miguel’s free hand wrapped around the front of you, toying with your clit, circling it in just the perfect motion to send you over the edge, practically screaming his name. He didn’t let up with his fingers, continuing to play with your pussy while still fucking you from behind, just as forcefully as he had been the whole time. The man had stamina like you’d never seen, and sometimes you could barely keep up. 

Your orgasm washed over you, powerfully overtaking your body, igniting flames in your veins until your vision blurred. But something else washed over you too. It felt strange, nothing you’d felt before. You cried out, entirely overwhelmed in pleasure as liquid hit the table, gushing out in a spray. It took you a moment to realise where they came from.

Miguel’s orgasm came not moments later after yours, coating your insides, leaking out of your pussy and dripping down his cock. He panted heavily, resting his forehead on your shoulder and wrapping his arm around your waist, his hand soaked from you. “I didn’t know you could do that, mi amor,” he chuckled, kissing your neck softly.

Your eyes were wide once you realised what you’d done. “Neither did I, love. Neither did I.” He could tell by the tone of your voice that you seemed slightly embarrassed of yourself, noting the rosiness of your cheeks and the heated flush on your ears. It was something he’d picked up over the years, mentally noting your tells.

“It’s fine, darling. It’s actually pretty amazing,” he smiled against your neck. “I definitely want to see you do it again.”

You turned to face him, leaning against the desk and feeling how wet the glass actually was as it touched your thighs. “Well, use your talons and fangs again, and you just might.” You leaned up, kissing him softly and his hand cradled your cheek, the other on your waist, holding you close. 

“Round two?” He whispered, smirking as he pressed his forehead against yours.

You could only laugh. “As long as it’s somewhere dryer.”

“Deal.”