#but it's always a joy to write for you all | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jinxsequin · 3 days ago

Text

COSMIC ✧˖*°࿐

| au!powder x fem!reader

| wc: 6.4k

| summary: being in love with your best friend becomes complicated

| content/warnings: men dni, no mention of y/n, best friends to lovers, bestfriend!ekko, set in ep 7 au except vi and cait are alive and thriving (pretend they all survived that explosion), basically everyone is alive and well apart from powder&vi's parents LMAO, kind of wrote this as a cope, possibly ooc powder (and cait), r and powder are both oblivious, mentions of anxiety and poor mental health, alcohol mentioned briefly, slightly angsty, fluff, kissing/making out, slightly suggestive, lazy writing

After a long day at the academy, you wanted to do absolutely nothing but crawl into bed and avoid any social interaction until you’re inevitably forced to face reality again. That option however, was no longer available since you’d done that enough times the past few weeks for the label of social recluse to become a little too fitting. So here you found yourself, at The Last Drop, doing the second best thing, people-watching whilst Powder worked behind the bar.

Vi and Cait were currently engrossed in what looked to be the most engaging, riveting conversation across the bar, Vi’s arm slung around Cait’s shoulder, carding the midnight blue strands through her fingers periodically, Cait’s hand settled on Vi’s thigh in return. But to the carefully trained eye of a self-proclaimed people-watcher (in the least creepy way possible), and in general how accustomed you’ve become to Cait and Vi, you know they were having the most casual exchange about the silliest thing ever, they’re just so wrapped up in their own bubble, seriously, if it was possible you’d actually believe you could physically see the hearts floating around them - they were completely and entirely enamoured with each other. But it was the look in their eyes that struck you unexpectedly with a sickening sense of yearning. It filled you with inexplicable joy to see someone you’d grown up alongside, with an unspeakably painful past and admittedly not-so-easy upbringing, get to be happy and doted on. If anyone deserved that it was Vi and her huge heart, after putting everyone before herself her entire adolescence. And Caitlyn, though she and Powder may not have got along like a house on fire in the beginning, had won over everyone’s hearts eventually. Her heart was always in the right place, and she was constantly surrounded by such a warm energy, it was impossible to not be open and comfortable around her. Involuntarily, every time you thought about it you found yourself aching for a connection like theirs. Sure, you were a tiny bit envious, but it gave you that glimmer of hope. With who? Well.

A damp cloth thrown at your shoulder pulled you out of your whirlwind.

“Hey toots, still here?” Powder said, settling at your side.

Powder. When your parents’ lives were lost in the war, Benzo had kindly taken you under his wing when you had no family to turn to. Ekko had quickly befriended you, and the two of you remained close in the present. Of course, as Ekko often hung around Vi, Claggor, Mylo and Powder, they were all introduced to you and a bond had been inevitably struck. From an early age you and Powder had clicked, the pair of you naive and bright-eyed, brimming with excitement and potential. Your shared interests and passions had led you both to study at the academy, where you remained glued to each other's sides, if there was one of you around, anyone who knew the two of you, was well aware that the other would be lingering close by.

So what was different? As of late, being in her proximity had begun to make an uncomfortable feeling twist around your spine and find its home in you. You had spent countless restless nights, racking your brain of the timeline of events that could have possibly led up to this. Maybe it was the air, the weather, the holiday spirit? It was to no avail, however, as you simply couldn't pinpoint when or where this feeling had crept in. It wasn’t uncomfortable in the way that you didn’t want to be around Powder, no, rather, it was the opposite. You couldn’t stay away. And your dynamic didn’t help, you spent nearly every waking moment together, and even then often slept in her presence too. But it terrified you. The two of you, in many of your plentiful late night oil burning sessions, had spoken in depth of the fear of change in many contexts. You’d never explicitly talked about it in regards to your friendship, but that went without saying. Change couldn’t happen. You didn’t want it to either, right? You repeated the mantra to lull yourself to sleep on such harrowing nights. It won’t happen. You were at a loss, but you knew you wouldn't give up what you had for the world, so it was buried as well as you could.

“Umm, space girl, I’m pretty sure I’m not talking to myself over here,” Powder snarked, pulling you once again from your spiralling, a teasing grin on her face.

“Huh?” You replied, still dazed, pulling the cloth off and playing with it absentmindedly in your hands before finally meeting her eyes. “I mean yeah, I was just waiting here till you got off.”

Your gaze impulsively drifted back to the couple again, their foreheads pressed together now as tipsy giggles were shared between the two.

“Well good news, sugar, Vander let me off early,” she returned in a sing-song tone, shooting you a strange look at your disorientated behaviour before following your line of vision and landing on the pair. She scrunched her nose slightly in mock disgust before letting out a soft sigh.

“Positively sickening, aren’t they.”

“Right. I don’t know how many me and who’s I have left in me anymore,” you shared, before shaking your head slightly as if to finally pull yourself away.

Powder’s gaze turned back to you at that, a few seconds of silence as your words settled. An unfathomable expression crossed her face, before a small smile settled on her lips.

“Wanna get out of here?” she said, your attention fully returned to her as she held out her arm.

“Lead the way, captain,” you affirmed, linking your arm with her inviting one, leaning into her warmth as her smile widened, knowing another quiet night unwinding in her hideout is just what the both of you needed.

Idle chatter over the hum of the night occupied your minds and tongues until you reached Powder’s beloved workshop, whereby you both threw down your belongings and settled on the couch to watch the lights wrapping the lanes in that soft, familiar golden glow.

“I would so not!” Powder shrieked indignantly, watching as you double over in laughter.

“You would! I see it now, you in a fancy white lab coat somewhere topside, tinkering away-”, you added, giggling at the ridiculous image in your head of future mad scientist Powder.

“Not!” she interrupted, entirely opposed to your idea.

“Would! I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if you discovered something like magic, somehow,” you said, though there’s a serious element to your teasing. She’s a genius, there’s no doubt in your mind that she could if she put her mind to it.

“Not gonna happen,” she replied, rolling her eyes though a faint blush at your incessant teasing formed across her cheeks.

“Maybe in another universe, then.”

“Hm,” she tilted her head, and turned back to you, shoulder brushing yours. “Where are you in all this then?”

“Hmmmm,” you put your finger to your chin in mock wonder, “you probably cracked some code and figured out how to fuse us together so we actually never separate,” you joke.

Powder looked at you for a moment before finally cracking, the sweet sound of her unfiltered laughter hitting your ears and filling your heart with its warmth.

“Okay, that sounds more like me now,” she replied once the laughter subsided, head finding a place on your shoulder. That squeamish feeling resurfaced for a moment at the tenderness of her contact, but you brushed it off as quickly as it arrived, leaning in to her.

“Told ya.”

“Maybe, but…,” she unexpectedly spoke up again. Her blue eyes find yours as you silently encourage her to expand on her thought. “Sure, Zaun isn’t perfect,” she carried on quietly, slightly leaning up to rest her chin on your shoulder. You shivered slightly. “And yeah, maybe I do want to do things but I’d do them for the sake of this place, to improve the quality of life here. I’m happy here. With everyone. With you. I’d want to do it with you,” she finished, eyes searching yours, as if awaiting your reaction. Your heart skipped several beats, you swore, how would you live if she continued to throw out such heartfelt statements in a casual conversation?

“Hell yeah, you would,” you finally managed to get out, eyes still on her face, “and I’d be right there throughout, like your little cheerleader.”

The intensity of the moment dissipates with Powder’s snort at your reply . “Always the sap, toots,” she opts for, wrapping an arm around your shoulder to bring you closer as the drowsiness begins to fall over the two of you.

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

It was a few weeks later when you, Powder and Ekko found yourselves poring over blueprints for a project in the early hours of the night. The Last Drop had closed early, courtesy of it being a weekday and the cold weather. The three of you were the only people sat at a table inside, Vander having trusted Powder to lock up responsibly.

Ekko let out a loud sigh as he leaned back in his chair. “I wonder when this’ll finally end.”

You hummed in agreement, the hours spent grinding away wearing away at your patience. “The Innovator’s Competition is less than a month away, we’ll have to have it done before then. I can’t wait though.” You mimicked Ekko, slouching back in your chair.

“It can’t just be a throwaway project. It has to be perfect,” Powder ran her hands through her hair frustratedly, the half-up-and-down-do hanging on for life. You and Ekko groaned in sync at that, you’d been at it for hours and though you shared the same perfectionist ideas about the project, she’d been particularly antsy today.

“Look, maybe we should wrap it up for today. Revisit it tomorrow with a fresher mind,” you offered, stretching out your legs.

Powder nodded in relent. Ekko leaned up, instantly beginning to pack away his things. “Yeah, you can say that again,” he chuckled. “I’m gonna head home now. You coming with?” he looked to you for your response, though the teasing smile on his face told you he was already aware of your answer.

“No,” you replied, observing Powder's worn-out figure, “I think I’m gonna hang around for a bit. I’ll catch you later though, Ekko.”

He slung his bag over his shoulder, turning to you both as he began to walk out. “Night then, don’t stay up firing your brain cells for too long!”

You and Powder both snickered at that, waving him off. A comfortable silence blanketed the pair of you as you began packing away the day’s work, hands brushing ever so often. Powder stood up eventually, brushing herself off and walked up to the window overlooking the streets of Zaun.

“Oh my god!” She suddenly whispered excitedly, turning her head to you with a delighted grin. Your heart twisted in your chest. “C’mere, look!”

You pushed yourself off the chair at her command, quickly approaching where she stood at the long window. Sure enough, a dusting of snow had crowned the lanes of the city, countless snowflakes continuing to make their home on the surroundings that were fortunate enough to be above ground and not sunken under. Powder’s eyes remained fixated on the side of your face as you watched, fascinated.

“Snow,” you breathed out, “it’s beautiful.” Snow was rare in Zaun, the last time you remembered seeing it vaguely was an impromptu visit to Piltoever when you were much younger, so it was an entirely exciting experience witnessing it now.

“Right,” she mumbled in reply, her stare returning to the landscape.

“We absolutely have to go out!” You said, enlivened once again by the weather, running to grab something warm enough to step out in. Powder turned around, watching your rapid movement.

“What, right now??” she replied sceptically, though her actions betrayed her as she copied you, picking up the coat she’d shed earlier.

“Umm, yes. You’re not arguing with me on this,” you shot back adamantly, already wrapping a scarf around your exposed neck and halfway out. Powder rolled her eyes in response, despite the fond smile adorning her lips.

Regret. That’s what you were beginning to feel, crouching behind the fence of a small plot of land, hiding from Powder’s impromptu snowball attack. All thoughts of the troubles of your project entirely forgotten as she threw herself into a stubborn fight. You were out of breath by the time you had even managed to lob one back at her. There was no way this was fair game, you thought to yourself as you squeezed your eyes shut in anticipation. A rustle nearby broke you out of your thoughts, and a lump of snow hitting your arm had you fleeing from your place of refuge, jumping over the fence and onto the snow-covered land.

“There’s no running from me, sucker!” Powder’s cackle sounded through the night, footsteps close behind you as you narrowly dodged another hit.

“Give me a chance at least!” You yelled back, refusing to glance behind. You had almost outrun her when the inevitable happened, and you landed on the blanketed ground with a thud. Unfortunately for you, Powder had been much closer behind you than you had anticipated, so when you were knocked down, she’d crash landed on top, her legs entrapping your body.

“Ughhh…” she sounded out after as she leaned up a little on her elbows. She brushed the overgrown bangs out of her face, hair completely wild now. Her eyes scrutinised your face, assessing for any damage. “You good?” she asked tentatively, worry flickering over her face.

All you could do was nod in response. Any words that you had ready at your disposal had all vanished at the unexpected proximity, and though at the initial impact your bones had been chilled, you now felt an overwhelming burning sensation everywhere. Her hand slowly reached out towards your cheek, brushing away the snowflakes that had settled there. Okay, now your heart was actually going to be catapulted out of your chest with its vicious thumping. Her gaze remained centred on your face, before she leaned in closer.

“Gotcha,” she murmured, watching your reddening face as she broke into laughter, finally relenting and sitting up. Despite your quiet sigh of relief, your body instantly craved the contact lost. You shook your head before sitting up a little, watching as she occupied herself with making a snow angel besides you.

“Cheater,” you finally grumbled out, though your words had no bite.

“Won fair and square toots, accept it or not!” Powder quickly retorted, offering you her hand as a grip as she towered above you now, a goofy grin on her face at her so-called victory.

Up in her hideout, you busied yourself setting up a cover and a blanket on the floor of Powder’s makeshift bedroom whilst she finished up changing in her closet. You were half way through tucking yourself in when Powder re-entered, eyes searching for you in confusion before landing on your figure on the floor.

She threw herself on the bed before throwing you a puzzled look. “Why are you on the floor?”

“Just…thought I’d be better off here tonight,” you replied, looking up at her and trying your best to keep a casual tone.

“Okay,” her eyebrows furrowed in further doubt, “but why?”

At the beginning of your friendship, when you’d grown comfortable enough to be able to stay over, you’d began by setting out blankets and pillows on the floor whilst she slept on the bed, though she’d offered it to you and was turned down countlessly. This routine had carried on for only a short while though, because with how drawn to each other you were you’d quickly been able to feel safe enough to sleep in the same bed. As of recent though, that godforsaken feeling you were hoping would fade away on its own had only grown stronger, as if it was feeding off any interaction and proximity you had with Powder. Suffice to say, it had become the subject of many overthinking sessions spent in your own bed, tossing and turning tirelessly. It would of course be entirely amplified lying besides her, but you’d sucked it up and taken it for a spell. Tonight, however, after the earlier event you had barely recovered from - seriously, you think your heart needs to be professionally checked - you took it upon yourself to take to the floor, too afraid of the intensity of the alternative.

At your unintentional silence in response to her question, Powder frowned, turning away and lying down. “Okay, if you want your space, I get it. G’night,” she said softly, facing away from you.

You laid down, stomach twisting at the thought of her thinking you were upset at her, knowing that was often the conclusion she jumped to when you were slightly distant or off with her. You wanted to reach out, comfort her, assure her she had done nothing wrong, but a meek goodnight was all you could offer before you similarly turned away and closed your eyes.

You couldn’t tell how many hours had passed, or if any had passed at all but your unease was relentless, you’d almost nodded off about ten times already before your body would pull you out of almost-slumber and leave you awake with your troubling thoughts again. A combination of guilt and the freezing cold seeping into every bone in your body was going to keep you up all night, you acknowledged as you resigned to your fate, turning to lay flat on your back.

A shifting in the sheet from the bed above interrupted the silence, Powder’s similarly sleep deprived figure peered down at you, a disgruntled expression on her face.

“Okay,” she rasped, “this is ridiculous. Come here.” She held out the blanket, inviting you in.

Fuck it, there wasn’t a second of hesitation in the way you got up and crawled in, instantly calmed by the warmth her body offered. Who were you to say no to that? All feelings of discomfort and fear and anything in between melted away under her touch. Drowsiness finally draped over the two of you, her arm coming to rest over your waist and her head nestled in the crook between your neck and shoulder, blue locks tickling your cheek.

“Silly,” she mumbled into your neck, the last words that were spoken before sleep fell over you both.

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

“Well, you look rough,” are the first kind words that tumble out of Ekko the next morning when you reluctantly enter Benzo’s workshop for your shared shift.

“Wow thank you, buster, how kind,” you grumbled, coming behind the counter to take a seat next to Ekko. Working at Benzo’s wasn’t terrible, and even though it was only the three of you usually running the ship, it was manageable. Besides, haggling with clueless customers alongside Ekko usually provided good entertainment. Just not this morning, not after the tumultuous storm brewing in your head.

The gentle smell of lavender hit you, before Ekko handed over a warm cup of herbal tea. You accept it gratefully, raising it to your lips and facing the door, and whatever else the day may bring.

“Are you seriously not going to tell me what’s up?” Ekko sighed out exasperatedly.

“Nothing, dude, seriously,” you turned back to him, nervous at how easily he can always read you. “Just got a lot on my mind right now.”

“A problem shared is a problem halved is a problem solved, as the Professor puts it,” he quipped back playfully, prodding your forearm.

“There’s no way you’re quoting the Professor to me right now,” you deadpanned, shooting him a look.

“What I mean to say is, it’ll probably help if you talk it out, ” Ekko carried on, “besides I always tell you shit! This is only fair.”

You rolled your eyes lightheartedly, before relenting. “Fine, it’s just Pow-” Your sentence is interrupted with Ekko’s stifled laugh.

You narrowed your eyes at him, “Okay, what the fuck is that about?”

“Nothing!” he straightened his expression quickly, prompting you to carry on.

You shot him a final warning look before hesitantly carrying on. Fuck it, you’re this far in now, might as well spill. “I don’t know. I can barely keep my composure around Powder anymore. I can’t figure out what’s shifted.”

Ekko smiled in understanding before patting your shoulder. “That, my friend, is what happens when you hold it in for too long.”

“What?!!”

“What!” he held his free hand up in mock surrender, “I’m just saying, it’s so obvious to anyone in the vicinity of you both that there’s something there. Seriously, a charge that could rival the strongest of currents,” he shook his head, a playful grin on his face he didn't hold back.

“It’s not like that for her. Well at least, I don’t think so,” you groaned, head in your hands. “Anytime I think a move might be made, it’s snatched away. But at the same time every thing we do is the same as it’s always been, just…intensified.”

“Well, I can’t speak for her,” Ekko replied contemplatively, “but what I do know is you just need to have an honest conversation about how you feel, and where you stand.”

“When did you become so wise?” you muttered, looking up at him full of genuine gratefulness.

“When did you both become so blindly oblivious?” he shot back boldly, returning your grin. Your comeback was stifled by the entrance of your first customer of the day, the familiar bell of the door sounding through the shop as they made their way to the counter.

“And for the record, can I just say I fucking knew it,” Ekko enthused under his breath as you got up to greet the customer.

“Ekko!”

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

It was later that day when you decided to suck it up and take Ekko’s advice. How bad could it really go, the conversation was going to be inevitable at some point if you wanted to retain your sanity. Trekking through the light snow to The Last Drop, where you knew Powder would be working tonight didn’t take too long, but long enough for all the anxious thoughts to resurface. Your head was already boiling by the time you took a seat at the bustling bar.

Vander looked up at the sound of you pushing the stool in. “Hi kid,” he chuckled fondly at your tired wave as a form of greeting. He turned away for a second, gesturing to Powder at the other end of the bar counter of your arrival.

“Oh hey, pretty lady, come here often?” Powder teased mock-seductively the moment her eyes landed on your tense figure, walking to stand across from you. You tried your best to act normal, but the way your heart was doing flips in your chest as she poured a fruity drink and pushed it towards you was becoming extremely hard to ignore.

“Hey Pow,” you replied softly, taking the drink gratefully. She shot Vander a look, wordlessly asking for a break so she could be closer. Vander obliged without a second of hesitation with a wave of his hand, as Powder made her way to the front of the bar, taking a seat next to you.

“I’m going to need you to do that haircut soon, trinket,” she huffed, blowing away the long, overgrown bangs that refused to be pinned into the two space buns she currently had hair pulled into. Powder had swore she would never go to Zaun’s infamous barber again, after her disastrous last visit that ended with extremely choppy bangs. You still thought they were adorable, and with her face she could absolutely pull it off. But that was you, and you were perhaps a little biased. Since then, she’d only entrusted you with scissors near her hair, and had mentioned another haircut briefly earlier this morning when you’d awoken in her room.

“Okay, I’ll come over and do it soon,” you returned, never one to turn down her requests. The piece of hair flew down again, and this time your hand automatically reached out to tuck it behind her ear. The boldness of your action didn’t register until you accidentally brushed her cheek, which was blazing under her fiery blush. Fuck. You couldn’t do it, you thought, as all plans of health communication flew out the window. You’d resign yourself to playing this game for the rest of your life if you had to, but you were convinced you’d never have the courage to even think about being more with her, hurt you as it might. You quickly dropped your hand as fast as it had reached towards her, oblivious to the way Powder chased your touch.

“Oh! Almost forgot!” Powder perked up, the tension of the moment snapping with her exclamation. “Here,” she opened up your palm, pushing something miniscule ino it.

You furrowed your eyebrows, glancing at her in confusion. She didn’t speak, just nodded at you as if to encourage you to look. You opened your palm, and there sat a snow globe. It was obviously handmade, her love and care clearly poured into it. You shook it, watching as the blizzard inside swirled around the landscape before settling, two miniscule figures of the two of you in the middle. A strong sense of emotion, intensified by the months of containing it, crashed over you as you stared at it in awe, and you were dismayed to find tears prickling at your eyes so quickly.

“I love it,” you managed to choke out, meeting Powder’s adoring grin.

“I’m glad,” she replied genuinely, before realising you were at the verge of tears. Her hands found your shoulders, attempting to ground you. “Whoa there, trinket. It’s just a snowglobe, what’s wrong?” her eyebrows drawn together in concern.

“Feels different,” you mumbled out, free hand coming up to wipe away your vulnerability.

Powder was stumped at that, worried gaze still roaming over your flushed face. She pulled her arms away from where they’d just been placed on your shoulders, and tentatively took your hand in hers. “It’s not,” she opted for, “nothing’s different, nothing changed okay?”

The blood drained from your face at that, your body throwing itself into another whirlwind of emotions at the implication of her words. You knew she was just saying what she thought would be the best response to your nonsensical statement, but it didn’t hurt any less.

“I know,” you eventually replied quietly, gingerly squeezing her hand instead of acknowledging the anxious frown that had settled over her face.

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

Since that night, you hadn’t seen Powder for the majority of the next three days, and when you had hung out between that time, it was to work on the upcoming project as a trio. This had already slightly confused Powder, though it might have been a normal amount of time to have hung out, it was definitely out of the usual for you two, who had often been told by Vander, Silco and others alike, that you were actually joined at the hip. But what had actually thrown Powder into bewilderment was how you had rushed off home after insisting you had a lot of work to do, instead of staying past hours together as was so often your routine. She was struck between feeling distraught at the idea she had upset you somehow, and guilty at letting her mind run wild when it could be down to wanting your personal space. Come to think of it, you had been acting weird for a while now.

In an attempt to quieten the voices and to gain some peace of mind, Powder found herself in a place she would not often come alone. Piltover. She slipped the spare key she had been entrusted with into the keyhole of her sister and her sister’s girlfriend’s shared house, making her way over to the kitchen table. She laid her head on the surface, welcoming the cooling feeling. No one seemed to be home, which Powder was grateful for, as she didn’t think she’d have a good excuse as to why she’d dropped by so suddenly and unannounced.

“Hello??” A voice sounded through the silence of the kitchen, it seemed her wish was not granted.

Powder reluctantly raised her head and propped up her elbows, resting her face on her hands in an attempt to look as nonchalant as possible.

“Powder?” Caitlyn asked incredulously, as if her eyes were deceiving her, though she quickly crossed the room to sit across from her, a twinkle in her eye.

“The one and only,” Powder answered with a toothy grin despite herself.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Caitlyn quipped, reaching out for the orange juice carton and two cups.

Powder’s eyes flicked around the room anxiously at that, biting at her lower lip. She hadn’t anticipated answering to anybody right now, but maybe it was a blessing in disguise with the heavy thoughts weighing down on her. Maybe she would regret opening up so easily, kick herself later, but as Caitlyn offered her a glass, there looked to be no better option than to share what had been preying on her mind.

“...And she’s been off with me since! I don’t know what I can do to make things right if I don’t know what I did wrong…” Powder finished her run-through of troubling events, her hands thrown up in the air to punctuate her sentence.

“Sweetheart, you need to know there’s nothing you’ve done wrong. And she doesn’t think that either,” Caitlyn replied thoughtfully, searching for her next words as Powder watched in anticipation, “all this just seems like…some miscommunication. To me that night at the bar was her probably trying to tell you she likes you, in all honesty.”

The drink Powder had taken a sip of constricted her lungs hearing Caitlyn’s response, saving herself at the last second with choked out coughs. Caitlyn flashed her a look of wild concern as Powder gathered herself together.

“What?” she asked, her voice hoarse.

Caitlyn broke into a giggle at her shock at something that she thought was entirely obvious, even before this from her own observation. She raised her palm, hand coming over to lay on top of Powder’s own carefully.

“You know for someone that’s such a well-known genius, you sure do miss what’s right in front of your eyes, and everyone else’s,” she teased lightheartedly.

Powder’s face scrunched up at her statement. “Fuck, I thought I was doing a good job hiding. Am I really that obvious?”

“The both of you are, I’m afraid,” Caitlyn laughed.

“And how do you just know all this shit?” Powder retorted.

“Let's just say I've played this game before,” Caitlyn replied, blue eyes glimmering.

“What? Don't tell me my sister put you through that-”

“Now why the hell was I not invited to this party?” The sound of Vi’s voice rang through the kitchen as she sauntered towards them. Placing a kiss on Caitlyn’s cheek, she turned to Powder and engulfed her in a hug, arms wrapping around her shorter frame tightly. Powder’s eyes widened as she returned the embrace, not expecting the sudden display of affection.

“Uff, what was that for?” Powder exclaims as Vi finally released her, but not before ruffling through her choppy locks.

“Can I not hug my baby sister?” Vi grumbled playfully, standing back at Caitlyn’s side as a warm smile spread across the latter's face at the sight of the siblings’ antics. Playful bickering was passed between the pair, before Powder straightened up as if remembering herself, ready to leave.

“Leaving so soon? You only just got here,” Vi lamented as Powder began bidding her goodbyes.

“I’ve got…something to do. I’ll be back soon, sis,” Powder promised, before turning to Caitlyn with a warm smile, “and thank you, Cait,” she said, hoping she conveyed the genuinity of her thankfulness.

“Any time, Powder,” Caitlyn shot her a knowing smile back as she took her final leave.

The house fell back into a content silence as Vi snaked an arm around Cait’s waist, looking at her puzzled. “Did I miss something?”

“You, my dear," Cait pressed a victorious kiss to Vi's cheek, mimicking her early move, “have just lost a bet.”

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

“Thank the gods!” You declared, Ekko nodding vigorously in agreement as the pair of you wrapped up to leave, after a particularly productive session finalising your project. Everything was finally coming together, all the hard work beginning to pay off. Powder had suggested the meeting be in her hideout today, but she’d been uncharacteristically quiet and on edge all evening. You shot her a look now, subtly trying to check up on her. Your heart stuck in your throat when she met your gaze suddenly, clearly needing to say something. You looked away abruptly, ever since that night your emotions had been going haywire around her even more. She’d talk when she was ready. Just as you were about to step out with Ekko, thinking you were in the clear, her hand wrapped around your forearm, holding you in place.

“Can… Can you stay? Just for a bit,” Powder swiftly asked, trying her utmost best to not sound like she was pleading.

You looked at Ekko for a second, finding he was already looking at you, eyebrow raised in question. He’d been under the impression that you’d already talked, though it was clear to him now that was not the case. You turned back to Powder, who was awaiting your response in apprehension.

“See ya later, dudes,” Ekko said cheerfully, and you swore you saw the smirk flashing across his features before he circled around and left, leaving you no time to even attempt to argue.

“Umm…sure, Pow,” you spoke softly, your arm released from her grip. Her eyes softened at the use of her nickname from you, shoulders relaxing slightly. “What’s up?”

Fuck, Powder hadn’t thought that far. She’d just seen you leaving, and the thought of you slipping out of her grasp and no longer near her had made her panic.

“Will you cut my hair, please?” she managed to save herself, sighing in relief as you silently agreed and followed her back over to an area of her hideout.

Once you were both situated on the floor, you sat on your knees in front of her mirroring her own position, combing through her brightly coloured locks in preparation for the cut. Silence fell over you. Though this would be normal on any other occasion, cutting her hair was usually chaotic, with Powder squirming and moving around too much, you shrieking at her to stop said movement before you gave her a haircut that was so terrible it’d rival the dreaded barber’s. This silence wasn’t your usual comfortable silence, it was full of things left unsaid on both of your sides, the tension so thick it could be cut with a knife.

You tried to ignore the wild thumping of your heart at the closeness of your current position, combing the bangs across her forehead. The way her eyes traced over every one of your features so thoroughly was certainly doing nothing to help. Every one of Powder’s intentions to talk to you properly tonight were rapidly vanishing from her head, the words stuck in her throat. And yet, she couldn’t take her eyes off you.

The thought of all the feelings she’d had over the past few months, not too different from your own, came back to her now - the nights she had spent overthinking, the fear of losing you, the fear of change, the doubts she’d had, everything was suddenly too overwhelming as she took the comb you were using out of your hand and placed it down. Your eyes widened with astonishment as she brought her hands to either side of your face, leaning her forehead against yours. The fear of you not reciprocating how she felt was drowned out by the overwhelming desire to be close to you, to taste you.

“What are you doing?” you dared to murmur, pulse rate quickening.

Powder let out a shaky breath, her eyes quickly darting from your eyes to your lips and back again. You were pretty convinced you were about to explode.

“Please, tell me you want this as much as I do,” she pleaded quietly, lips brushing yours.

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this,” you whispered back. The sentence had barely left your mouth before Powder connected her lips to yours. You immediately reciprocated, her warm lips pressing deeper against you as she tugged you closer. Your hands went to tangle in her hair, haircut long forgotten. She hummed approvingly, fingers running over your cheekbone, every single doubt and fear between you melted away by the passion of her touch.

When you finally had to pull away to breathe, her forehead rested against yours, eyes bright as she scanned over your equally delighted face. “I’ve always loved you, and that won’t change,” she murmured, her voice so soft and tender despite the weight of her words, your heart skipping several beats and landing in your mouth.

“I love you too, as if that wasn’t obvious enough already,” you breathed out. Powder giggled in response, the sounds only intensifying by your sudden attack of kisses all over her face. She writhed under your grip, protests not even half-serious as you continued to smother her.

“Stop squirming, I get to do this!” you declared, avoiding her chasing your lips as you pressed your lips against her flushed cheek. Powder finally managed to get a grip on you, strong hands on your hips as she pulled you onto her lap with ease. Just as you lean in to press another soft kiss to the edge of her mouth, she quickly moved her head so your lips landed on hers once again, moving quickly and passionately against them as she brought one hand up to your face again to bring you impossibly closer. Your mind was hazy as you kissed her back fervently, arms coming around her neck to ground yourself. You could barely take a breath in the tiny sliver of time there was that you two are apart, her eyes trained on yours lovingly before she pulls you back in, again and again.

“I’m not gonna be done with you for a while, babe.”

| a/n: well here it is!! my first time writing this sort of thing and i feel like it kinda showed but posting regardless because i'm so sick of seeing this in my drafts. pls leave a comment or drop something in my inbox on ur thoughts, they're much appreciated !! <3

#powder #powder x reader #au powder #powder x you #powder x female reader #arcane #arcane x reader #jinx #jinx arcane #jinx x reader #jinx x fem!reader #jinxsequin #powder x fem!reader

353 notes · View notes

thesquidgame · 23 hours ago

Text

Predictable

Hwang In-ho x wife!reader

Summary: Your peaceful married life is disrupted by strange symptoms.

Warnings: ANGST, money issues, hospitals, disease outbreak (MERS), disease symptoms (not MERS), poor working conditions, bad coworker, (implied) understaffed hospitals, panic, health problems, medical condition, neurological symptoms, blood, graphic depictions of medical emergency, vomiting blood, stepping on glass

*I'm going to upload a more comprehensive TW list soon that I will link here that includes spoilers for upcoming chapters (I don't have it all planned out, but spoilers for the parts that are). I did a lot of research, but obviously I could have gotten something wrong, especially as I write more chapters, so if something is glaringly wrong please let me know.

Your apartment was dingy and small. It was on the outskirts of Seoul, and your had to take three buses to get to work. But it was alright. Your house was clean, and In-ho came home every day before you and made dinner. Your schedule was a bit more unpredictable. As an ER nurse, you tried whatever you could to get home on time, but mostly, you ended up at work until midnight.

It was a hectic job, but you were used to it. Unlike some of your colleagues, nothing extreme had happened to you in years, the first and only time being when you were accidentally stabbed with a needle. Still, it was stressful, but In-ho made all of that anxiety go away the second you saw him.

Whenever you came home, your husband would smile, kiss you, and present the delicious dinner he had made you. You would then sit at the dinner table and talk about your days, sometimes for hours, into the early hours of the morning. Then, you would wake up and do it all over again.

Your friends remarked on how boring you and In-ho’s lives were, that there was no real excitement, and that you were just going through the motions. You couldn’t disagree more. You loved going through the motions, and waking up every day knowing what you would do, and that your husband would be waiting for you at home. The predictable joy was your paradise. In-ho would wonder too, questioning if this was what you wanted. He couldn’t imagine how someone like you would want to be with a boring policeman with a 9-5 job. You couldn’t explain it, didn’t need to, you just loved spending time with your husband.

Your wedding was small and cheap, in the worship hall of a local church on a Saturday afternoon. Your family didn’t have the money for a flight to attend, and you couldn’t afford to bring them to you. So, your family was replaced by your friends, and Jun-ho walked you down the aisle.

The reception was in your house, and you and In-ho had stayed up late the night before making food. It was the best day of your life, and your friends and family stayed up late eating in the basement of the church at folding tables.

That night, you and an In-ho made love for the first time (always a gentleman), and as you slept on his chest he promised you that he would do anything for you. Even if he couldn’t give you much in terms of nice clothes, or a nice apartment, he would make you as happy as he possibly could.

In the fifth year of your marriage, both your and In-ho’s careers became enormously stressful. The MERS outbreak in South Korea made your hospital one of the central trauma centers for victims, and In-ho received a promotion, giving him more and more hours away from home.

One day, during a long shift, you almost passed out. The hospital was loud and frantic, and you fell over in the middle of the ER, the voices and lights around you becoming a blur. You only were able to regain focus when a doctor grabbed you by your shoulders and screamed in your face, “Get the fuck up and treat your goddamn patients!” He screeched, the force of it causing spit to fly into your face.

Dazed, you got up and continued treating patients, pushing your brief pass-out back into your mind as just a brief fluke.

Over the next week, you were less and less hungry when In-ho would make food. He would look at you concerned, “Honey, is there something wrong with the food? I thought this soup was your favorite.”

You offered a weak smile in return, “I love it In-ho, I just don’t have an appetite today. Sorry.”

He smiled back, “All alright, just let me know if I can do anything.”

Work got more hectic for both of you, and moments of exhaustion grew in you more and more, but all could likely be attributed to the stress of the job.

The nausea started a month after the exhaustion. At least once during a shift, you would have to run to a bathroom to throw up. After one especially hard day, where, with still six hours left in you had already thrown up three times, you called In-ho crying.

“In-ho.” You said through sobs.

Nothing else passed your lips, but immediately your husband broke out into a flurry of questions, “Honey, what’s wrong? Is everything okay, did something happen?” You could hear the panic in his voice as clearly as you could see it if he was standing right in front of you.

You didn’t say anything for a minute, just continued crying as you heard In-ho try to interject several times, but each time he stopped himself, waiting for you to say something.

You were just about the explain the situation when you heard someone knock on the door of the bathroom, “Nurse Hwang, are you in there?”

“Yes, I’ll be out in a minute.” You said, your hand shaking as you held the phone.

“We need you out here now, you can’t waste time in the bathroom.” Your coworker said. She was nice, and a recent graduate of college. Her inexperience and fear were evident, and while whatever problem she was facing was likely her responsibility, she would be torn to shreds by your boss if she didn’t do everything right, and you had to help her.

“In-ho, let’s talk when we get home.” You said, forcing your sobs back into your throat.

“(Y/n), wait-” You didn’t let him finish, hanging up now was already hard enough but if you let him talk longer it would only get worse.

The chaos of your shift only got worse and worse, and it was nearly 4 AM by the time you got home. You felt like death itself had risen and slapped you across the face.

In-ho was sitting at the table, his leg bouncing so hard you could feel the vibrations through the floor. “(Y/n), what’s wrong are you okay?!” He said, panic radiating off his skin as he reached up and grabbed your hands, searching his gaze up and down you.

You had called him earlier tonight, hadn’t you? But for some reason, the why just wasn’t there, “I- I called you earlier today, right?”

His brow furrowed in confusion, “yes, you were crying. I’ve been terrified for hours. What happened?”

You looked away from him, “I- I don’t remember.”

“What do you mean, you don’t remember? Honey, what’s going on?” He grabbed your shoulders, out of concern, and you winced away from him.

“Ow, that hurt.” You muttered, rubbing your shoulders.

The fear only seemed to grow in his eyes, “I didn’t grab you that hard I didn’t think. I’m so sorry, are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine, it’s just been a long day.” You gave him a half-hearted smile, “can we just go to bed?

He frowned but nodded and gently wrapped you in a hug, “Of course, let’s sleep, and tomorrow we’ll see if you can remember.”

Nothing came to you in the morning, and when you took your shirt off to change into your scrubs, you noticed purple bruises on your shoulders from where In-ho had grabbed you the night before.

“Honey, is everything all right in there, you’ve been changing for a while?” In-ho called in from the other room.

“Yeah- yeah, everything’s okay.” You put your shirt on, not telling In-ho so as to not upset him. You knew that he hadn’t grabbed you that hard, so you didn’t want to scare him with freak bruises.

In the next month, it became harder and harder to function. Your body constantly felt exhausted and weak and sore, and you almost never had an appetite. Sleep was rare to come by due to a constant itching feeling that would spread over your body.

The world felt blurry a lot of the time, you got more confused and forgetful at work and at home, and your bosses would tear into you more and more. It was difficult to bring anything up to In-ho, his schedule became so busy that you talked less and less, and you didn’t want to stress him out with problems that were likely just caused by a stressful job.

Whenever he would notice something, and ask you what was wrong, it felt like pieces of a puzzle that wouldn’t fit when you were answering. Your responses wouldn’t quite make sense, you would say something a little bit incorrect, or wouldn’t completely answer the question. Both you and In-ho were confused by it, but neither had the time nor energy to prod further.

Everything in your life was falling apart and getting worse and worse, but you felt too dazed most of the time. You couldn’t really think about everything happening, and it all just spiraled out of control.

In-ho awoke in the middle of the night to the sound of gagging. He stumbled out of bed, wondering if you had eaten something that upset your stomach.

“(Y/n)?” He asked as he walked to the bathroom, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

Nothing could have prepared him for what he saw in front of you. You were crouched down on your hands and knees, a couple of feet in front of the toilet, throwing up. Throwing up near-black dark vomit.

“(Y/n)!” In-ho, in that moment, felt more terrified than he had ever before in his entire life. He ran over to you and crouched down on the ground next to you. Your entire body was shaking, and you kept throwing up. “(Y/n), what’s wrong? What’s happening? What’s going on?” He didn’t know what to do. No amount of disaster or emergency training he had received had prepared him for this moment.

You didn’t answer, couldn’t answer. He grabbed you in his arms, and you shook against his chest as he ran out of the apartment. He didn’t put on shoes, or a jacket. A broken bottle his neighbor dropped in the hallway cut his feet as he ran to the elevator, but he didn’t feel it. You were still throwing up on his chest and his fear for you was all he could focus on.

The car ride felt like it lasted hours. You were in the passenger seat, never stopping throwing up. His feet were cut up, and his white shirt was covered in blood.

He parked right in front of the ER you worked in, not pulling into a parking space. He carried you in his arms to the front desk, and all of the staff stared in shock for a brief moment at the sight of their coworker being carried by her husband, covered in blood. Within a quarter of a second that felt like an hour, they all rushed into action.

Someone took you out of his arms and placed you on a gurney, wheeling you into a trauma bay, while blood from In-ho’s feet followed you in a trail. Your eyes opened and shut, and you focused on your husband yelling your name, “(Y/n), (Y/n)!” As his face and voice faded in and out.

Part two will be out soon!

263 notes · View notes

formulawolff · 2 days ago

Text

“well that’s too bad” — k.r.

pairing -> kimi räikkönen x dcc!reader

word count -> {typed this one on my phone}

warnings -> banter, lots of flirting, some sexual innuendos, kimi being protective, the grid being a bunch of goofballs/down bad, some cursing, light pda

a/n -> this is a request based off of this ask! anon, i love you and thank you for sending in an ask so that i could write about one of my favorite drivers (can we also talk about long hair kimi like…) i hope y’all enjoy!

"who is that?"

a blonde peers around the garage, cocking his head as the figure strolls toward the row of paddocks. licking his lips, he folds his arms across his chest.

"i don't know, but whoever she is, she's gorgeous. absolutely stunning."

the object of sebastian vettel’s desire brings a phone to her ear, her plush lips parting, brow furrowing. whatever she was doing, she was deeply invested, as she stopped dead in her tracks to make the call.

the fellow drivers gather around the blonde, almost gawking. there was no doubt this woman was absolutely ethereal, the gentle rays of the morning sun accentuating her features. a pair of low rise jeans hung from her hips, a white long sleeve clinging to her torso. a luxurious purse hung from her shoulder, the bag accessorized with all sorts of trinkets and a bow.

the most striking aspect of her outfit was the pair of cowboy boots on her feet, the black leather worn from years of wear.

an interesting choice, especially in monaco, but it suited her.

she was regal, carrying herself with an aura that exuded dominance and grace. and to sebastian’s delight, she started to make her way in the direction of the red bull garage.

was she single? there sure wasn’t a ring on that left hand. but she could have opted to leave it at home, where it was protected from the public eye.

it was a gamble really.

and sebastian was more than willing to take his chances.

"do you think i could get her number?"

"you? please. you wouldn't stand a chance."

"come on nico," lewis hamilton, british driver for mercedes scoffs, rolling his eyes, "and you think you could?"

“well, i guess we could ask her if she’s ever been to paris—“

"you guys really know how to make me chuckle," another voice cuts in, his spanish accent seeping into every word, "a woman of that caliber? she probably wouldn't even look in your direction—"

"hi boys!" a chirp rings out through the red bull garage, "i'm looking for my husband. i tried calling his cell but i couldn't reach him. do y’all know where he is?"

her voice was sickeningly sweet, thick with the twang of an accent.

not just any ordinary accent.

an american accent, a drawl that sebastian only heard from one region of that country.

the south.

clearing your throat, you survey the array of men milling about in the garage. you recognize them all in an instant, as your husband had dotingly shown you photos over the years. before you stood fernando alonso, sebastian vettel, lewis hamilton, nico rosberg, and daniel ricciardo. an elite group of drivers, but they did not compare to the man you were searching for.

it wasn't even close.

you were looking for a finnish man, fair in complexion with fluffy, golden locks of hair. a hue that reminded you of sunlight pouring through the leaves of a forest. he was shorter in stature, but muscular, with piercing, icy blue eyes.

well, piercing to some, but to you, they were beautiful, brimmed with nothing but adoration and joy. often, you would gush to him about how his eyes were like the summer sky. he detested this, grumbling how they weren’t that special, but you could always make out a boyish grin, his dimples making an appearance.

taking a step back, sebastian studies you, gnawing on the inside of his cheek. as you give your name to nico, a bell rings in his head. he couldn’t quite place a finger on it, but it sounded familiar.

almost like he had heard it before. mentioned a few times, actually.

“who’s your husband?” fernando puckers his lips, placing his hands on his hips, “is he an engineer? a mechanic? part of the media?”

“he’s a driver.”

“a driver?” lewis’ eyes widen, “are you sure? we would remember one of our own bringing a woman like you around the—“

“will you all stop pestering my wife?”

a rumble from behind you earns a flinch from the drivers. swiveling on your heel, you feel your mouth curl into a dazzling grin.

“sugar! i’ve been looking all over for you! this place is a maze.”

sebastian can’t help but feel his mouth fall open as kimi räikkönen scoops you up into his embrace, squeezing you tightly against his chest. giggles erupt, bouncing off the walls as he peppers your face with kisses, a giddy squeal rising in your throat as he murmurs sweet nothings into your ear.

shaking his head, lewis almost can’t believe what he’s seeing, “you have got to be shitting me.”

“you’re telling me!” nico mutters, glaring at sebastian, he arches a brow, “is this the woman he’s been rambling about for months on end?”

“she is,” daniel clears his throat, finally finding his voice, “you guys didn’t put that together the second she started to speak? you can tell that woman has lived in texas all of her life. she’s wearing cowboy boots for fuck’s sake. you guys really amaze me sometimes.”

“well sorry we’re not all detectives like you!” fernando pouts, throwing his hands in the air, “we were all under the impression that—“

“the impression that i was just some helpless little bunny makin’ her way through?”

your snarky words cut through, sending a ripple of shock throughout the boys. their heads turn, pairs of eyes falling on you.

clicking your tongue, you raise a hand, pointing at sebastian, “y’all know it’s rude to stare, right? i could feel you watching me from a mile away.”

kimi wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer, “why didn’t any of you let me know she was here?”

“they thought i was single,” you can’t help but feel a smirk begin to grow as the boys stutter, scrambling to find some sort of response that wouldn’t set kimi off any further.

“well that’s too bad,” finding your hand, kimi intertwines your fingers together, “because you’re my wife. you guys hear that? she’s mine. off. limits.”

“heard you loud and clear,” fernando flashes the finnish driver a thumbs up, “my apologies, kimi.”

“don’t apologize to me,” kimi snorts, “apologize to her.”

as the boys hang their heads, you can’t help but feel a chuckle tumble out as they start speaking in unison, like some schoolboys being chastised.

“we’re sorry.”

“that’s better,” tugging on your hand, kimi motions his head in the direction of his own garage, “come on, my love. let’s go.”

peering over your shoulder, you shoot the group one last wink, scrunching your nose slightly. giving them all a wave, you blow a kiss.

“it was nice to meet y’all! but if you’ll excuse me, i would like to be with my husband. hopefully you’ll all fare better on the track than how you court women. bye now!”

and as you walk away, kimi brings your hand to his lips, pressing a tender kiss to the gentle skin.

“i love you.”

linking your elbow with his, you lay your head on his shoulder, your heart cozy with bliss.

“and i love you, ice man.”

and for the rest of the day, the ice man would bear a radiant smile.

a sort of grin the rest of the grid had never seen before.

and that was all thanks to his cheerleader.

his wonderful, talented, smoke show of a cheerleader.

the one who happened to be not just any cheerleader, but his wife as well.

and if anyone wanted you?

well, that was too damn bad.

#kimi räikkönen #kimi raikkonen #kimi räikkönen x reader #kimi raikkonen x reader #f1 #formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #f1 x reader #formula 1 fanfiction #f1 fanfiction

221 notes · View notes

xiaominghao · 2 days ago

Text

Reward

Genre: fluff.

Pairing: Mingyu x reader.

Yuin's note: As a baker, making desserts for others is my love language and I'm always willing to write about it.

“I’m home,” a tired voice sounded, followed by the sound of the front door closing.

“Welcome home, Mingyu,” you greeted, peeking your face from the kitchen, a big smile spreading across your lips as he walked towards you. “How was your day?”

He huffed stretching his arms above his head, clearly tired. “I don’t want to go back in like three days. It was such a…” his steps suddenly stopped, his brow furrowing slightly in a mix of surprise and something very close to joy. “What is this?”

You were in front of him holding a small plate with cookies that looked very appealing, almost as much as the smell that embraced his whole body. “I found a new recipe and I want your opinion.”

A wide smile lit up his face, revealing his little fangs, his eyes narrowing as he took a cookie. “You know what my opinion will be, but since you insist…”

Your gaze remained fixed on him, expectant, and a smile brightened your face as you noticed his body relaxed, enjoying the moment as if it was a reward he’s been fighting for. And somehow it was; after a long and hard day at work, coming home with you was the only thing he could think of.

You moved the plate a little closer to his chest, pouting at him. “Here, they’re all for you.”

Mingyu happily accepted your gift and then moved closer, draping his free arm over your shoulders to pull you in, giving you a quick peck on the forehead. “Thanks for this, and for everything.”

You stood on your tiptoes to lean in and return the kiss, he leaned down a little so you could reach him. “Do you want to take a shower?”

Mingyu shook his head. “I’d like to eat first, I’m craving this.”

“Oh, if that’s so…” you looked away a bit nervous, swinging slightly on your feet. “… Do you want us to sit on the couch and just chit chat?”

You looked up, a hint of shyness and pleading in your eyes. Mingyu raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk appeared on his face as you shrugged. “Sure, let’s go.”

You hurried ahead with quick, cheerful steps, and once you took a seat on the large couch, you patted your thighs as an invitation that he gladly accepted. Even though they have been together for a long time, Mingyu still felt touched by every little gesture you had for him, as if it were the first time.

“Seriously, y/n. You have no idea how happy you make me,” he said softly, resting his head on your lap and bringing a cookie to his mouth.

You laughed quietly, your hand gently stroking the roots of Mingyu’s hair. “You deserve it, and much more. Now, tell me, how was your day?”

288 notes · View notes

alexrosa13 · 3 days ago

Text

What a Lie

Caleb x female!reader

Genre: fluff/suggestive/angst

Warnings: minor writing suggestive content!, reader is the mc, mention of past trauma/mental health problems, Caleb getting slapped (out of love), reader cries... a lot... cause that's how I feel with his comeback

Note: husband came back from the military guys, it was written for the official contest made by L&Ds, if you'll like my work please consider sneaking a peak to my Twitter/X and leaving something behind to boost my chances for the win, thank you <3 (should I write some additional memories later on? expect something hot)

navigation →

I feel a little nauseous and my hands are shaking

I guess that means your close by

My throat is getting dry and my heart is racing

I haven't been by your side

In a minute but I think about it sometimes

Even though I know it's not so distant

Oh no, I still wanna reminisce it

Memories of your childhood started flowing down your mind.

The day when you scraped your knee and Caleb took you back home on his back, while trying to calm you down, eventually his ramblings managed to distract you from your cries and a joyful laugh replaced sobs, laughing with tears still lingering in your eyes.

The day when a boy in your school pushed you with succeeded in making you fall and drop all the things previously in your hands. Caleb was close by that day, and noticing the situation rush to your aid, 'threatening' the boy, which almost made him pee his pants, since Caleb was older, and of course that the older kids in school were always scary. After that he helped you gather your things and back at home you thanked him with a bone crushing hug.

Or the day where you were running around with water guns, playing with the other kids in your neighbourhood. By the end of the fun you were both left with wet clothes and hair, but the joy was worth it. Noticing you shaking slightly when the wind blew towards you, he was quick to wrap you in his hoodie and take you home, when you spend the evening playing the games until your granny had to force you two to go to bed.

I think of that night in the park

It was getting dark and we stayed up for hours

What a time, what a time, what a time

You'd cling to my body

Like you wanted it forever

What a time, what a time, what a time

For you and I

What a time, what a time

For you and I

First day of Summer, your teenage years. Right after lunch you two left for a 'short trip' for ice cream, somehow spending the rest of the day walking around, sharing the memories, the one that you made together and those created with and by your friends.

Talks about the future weren't as scary as they will be someday.

Without noticing it the sun has set, your silhouettes visible only because of the street lamps. You were lying on the grass in the park, the area quiet with no one else around. You watched as the fireflies danced in the distance.

"Caleb?" your quiet voice caught the attention of the older boy to you.

"Yes?" his response calm. He heard the hint of the hesitation in your voice.

"Promise to stay with me forever?" your voice broke down, he looked at you, the tears visible in your eyes, threatening to fall down.

"Pipsqueak..." one of his hand went to brush the tear that managed to leave your eye "I promise." he stroked your hair, in a soothing gesture.

None of you knew what the future was planning to throw your way, but both of you believed one thing: that you will stay together, always.

I know we didn't end it like we're supposed to

And now we get a bit tense

I wonder if my mind just leaves out all the bad parts

I know we didn't make sense

I admit it that I think about it sometimes

Even though I know it's not so distant

Oh no, I still wanna reminisce it

Living with the traumatic past wasn't easy. No matter for how long the thoughts of the past events left your mind, they always had a way to remind you of their existence. Never ending cycle.

"It's okay, ssh, it's okay." his gentle voice broke through the sound of your sobs, it was middle of the night, your mind played tricks on you making you mistake what's the reality and what's not.

After about half an hour of silently crying into you pillow your unconscious mind made you walk to his room.

You opened and closed the door silently, he stirred in his bed, clearly not asleep yet and looked your way.

"Pipsqueak?" you looked at him, but your consciousness was closed inside of you, he felt like he was starring at the ghost.

He sat down fast, brushing the covers aside and rushing your way, hiding you in his arms the moment he found himself close enough.

The sobs shook your body with your head falling to snuggle in his neck. The voices in your mind quieting down, leaving only silence behind. The warmth of another human body next to you kept you grounded, making you come back to reality.

You spend minutes, maybe even an hour in his arms, not moving, just listening to his breathing and the beating of his heart. He didn't ask, he just stayed there with you knowing that you needed him, giving you time to calm your thoughts down.

When he noticed your steady breathing and the exhaustion visible on your face he picked you up, carrying you to his bed. He lay down behind you, dropping the covers over you two. One of his arms worked as your pillow, while the second hugged you to him. Slowly you started falling asleep, with a calm mind, last thing that you heard before you doze off was:

"Goodnight pipsqueak." and a gentle kiss on your head.

I think of that night in the park

It was getting dark and we stayed up for hours

What a time, what a time, what a time

You'd cling to my body

Like you wanted it forever

What a time, what a time, what a time

For you and I

What a time, what a time

For you and I

The last night with Caleb home before he had to leave for his aircraft training. You were happy for him, of course you were, but... That didn't help the feeling of sadness that came together with the realization that you won't see him for months to come.

No matter how selfish you wanted to be and keep him with you, you knew how important it was to him, you wouldn't dare to get in the way of his dreams. Shutting down your phone you stood up from your bed, making your way to the room where you always felt the safest. That would change after that room won't have a resident anymore.

You knocked gently on the door, almost sure that he wasn't asleep yet, and your suspicions were confirmed with a quiet 'come in' from the other side of the door.

You grabbed the handle and opened them, they let out a quiet creak.

You noticed that most of his stuff was packed. The messy room that used to be full with various little things now clean and empty. You couldn't help the feeling of your heart tightening up. Finally your eyes meet his, he looked at you expectantly, he probably guessed that you'll visit him tonight, just like you did every time you needed him.

He stayed quiet, waiting for you to say your thoughts, which you did with a shaky voice and your eyes dropping down.

"I'll miss you." you didn't talk about your deep thoughts and problems much, most of the time deciding to stay silent and enjoy the peace that came with the presence of the other. It was also probably because you knew each other so well that you knew what the other was thinking about, no words needed.

"Oh c'mon pipsqueak, I'll be back before you know it. I'll be texting and calling you whenever I can. You won't even notice me gone in between all of your plans and training to become a hunter." he smiled, unbothered. He wasn't worried about your relationship changing for the worse, you two were too close to just forget about each other and start treating the other like a stranger.

Noticing your sulking form he stood up from where he sat on his bed, placing the photo of you and him that he was looking at before you came to him back on the shelf. He walked up to you, grabbing your chin with one of his palms, forcing you to look him in the eye.

"You know; goodbyes are not forever." the smirk on his lips made you scoff. He really couldn't treat that situation seriously, could he?

"So you won't miss me huh? Okay, got it." your voice let out the annoyance you felt at his indifferent demeanor.

"Of course I will, but I know that I'll see you again." his hand went up to mess up your hair, you caught his arm with both of your hands, but because of the sudden movement you stumbled a bit, your body falling his way. Luckily his fast reflexes managed to catch you in time, pulling you close to his body in the process. Your breaths stopped for a moment, your hearts starting to beat faster, none of you wanted to look the other in the eye right now.

The atmosphere in the room changed. Something unspoken lingered in the air. For the first time in forever you wondered what the other was thinking with no clue if your suspicions were right. You didn't know if you should move away, stay in one place or... Move closer..?

You felt his hand gently caressing the back of your neck.

"Tell me you don't want this." he whispered with his head dropping to yours, it was one of those times when you got a reminder of just how tall he is. Your forehead rested on his torso, the words not leaving your mouth.

What did you want?

Uncertainly your hands went up to his face, your palms gently caressing his cheeks. The hand on your neck made you raise your head up, the other one coming to hold your chin, his finger softly tracing your lips.

"Please tell me you don't want this." his voice even quieter than before, the words leaving his mouth with his face centimetres away from yours.

"I don't want to lie." you swallowed nervously, was it really happening?

He looked at you for a moment longer, trying to catch a glimpse of uncertainty in your eyes, finding none his body decided what to do before his mind could.

His lips came to meet yours, slow and gentle at first, but the very moment you reciprocated the affection his hand left your neck to wrap itself around your waist, pulling you even closer to him and deepening the kiss.

You lost track of the time, everything else not important right now, millions of unspoken feelings finding their way onto the surface. You felt a tear tracing your cheek, not even sure when you started crying.

After what felt like seconds, which probably were a couple of minutes, you broke the kiss with the need to breath. You opened your eyes, your gaze finding his, the longing in his eyes will probably stay in your mind forever to remind you of him every time you'll try to fall asleep.

Once more, there was no need for words, both of you knew what the other one thought and wanted, your heavy breathing met the quietness of the night, and in the next second your hands grabbed his t-shirt to pull him back in harshly, his palms matched your fierceness, pulling you by your waist and the back of your head. The noises of heated kisses and quiet moans filled the air, you hugged his neck, standing on your toes to get even closer to him.

You'll miss him so much.

For you and I

First months without him made you feel so lonely, it felt so weird to not be able to walk up to his room and hug him to sleep, or wake up without him making you breakfast.

He kept his promise, calling and texting you when he could, but that didn't happen often, since rookies were rarely given a time to spend on their phones.

You were staring at the photo of him smiling with the necklace you gifted him perfectly visible, the plushie that he won at the arcade for you when you were teenagers tightly wrapped in your arms.

The night you spent with him months ago still in your head. That man turned your world upside down, changing your attitude towards him drastically. You felt like you were fourteen having a crush on the boy from your class and planning all the things on how to win him over.

Soon he'll be here. Where he belongs, with you.

But until then the memories of him will have to somehow be enough.

You played the voice message he sent you a couple days ago again. The words leaving his mouth were already memorized by you, his voice brought you a sense of calm nothing else could.

He was cruel to leave you for so long after sharing his feelings for you the night of his departure.

But... You were cruel too, letting him have you the night he had to leave, making him leave with the memories of your warmth and comfort, with the memory of your quiet pleads to remember about you and to come back to you, you were so fragile in his arms, the walls you build up around yourself collapsing the moment his skin touched yours underneath the covers, with the moon being the only witness to your love.

What a time, what a time

For you and I

What a time for you and I, yeah

What a time, what a time

For you and I

The tap out ceremony after finishing the training was today, Granny let you go there by yourself, saying something about having a doctor appointment. Caleb will stay at your apartment for the first days, since your rooms in your childhood home are currently in a not really good state.

You were excited and nervous at the same time, your heart threatened to break through your chest with how strong it was beating.

You got there and saw all those people, soldiers, standing in perfect rows, people looking for their kids, siblings, lovers. A lot of noises full of joy could be heard from everywhere around you. Slowly, you walked forward, trying to catch a glimpse of the boy who's been living in your mind rent-free for the past months.

It took you some time, but you finally noticed him. He wasn't facing your way, so he had no way of knowing you were already there. You felt your eyes getting glossy, and your hand went to cover your mouth. You stood there for a moment, finally seeing him in person after what felt like forever spent without him by your side. How much has he changed?

Not letting your thoughts distract you for too long you finally took slow steps his way, walking between the lines of other people waiting for their close ones.

You found yourself right before him, his gaze stayed focused ahead of him, emotionless expression still on his face, waiting for your touch.

You took a moment to admire him. He looked almost nothing like the boy that left, a man now, one could say. Did he change on the inside too? Is he still your Caleb?

With a deep breath you stepped even closer to him, your arms behind your back. Standing now centimetres away from him, your smile widens and finally you shoot up to embrace him in the hug that you needed for months now.

He didn't miss a beat, instantly hugging you back, and picking your body above the ground.

"I told you I'll be back." he said, with his mouth right above your ear. You didn't respond, just hugged him even tighter, letting the gesture speak instead of words.

You were finally home.

I think of that night in the park

It was getting dark and we stayed up for hours

What a lie, what a lie, what a lie

You'd cling to my body

Like you wanted it forever

What a lie, what a lie, what a lie

For you and I

What a lie, what a lie

For you and I

He was right there, the same..? But different...

How could he... After so long...

Your expression gave out the million thoughts stucked in your head.

You started at him, was it really him?

You had enough of crying after that guy, blaming yourself for what happened, that you should go inside of the house with him, or maybe said one sentence more to keep him outside, anything.

And now... It all didn't matter. He was here, changed, but still him.

More tears lingered in your eyes, you felt like you were drowning, couldn't breath, your heart racing. It couldn't be real. He couldn't be real.

He looked at you indifferent, as if not moved at all by the sight of you before him.

You felt your knees giving up, before collapsing under you and sending your body to the ground. But before you could hit the hard floor your body stayed above it, before gently getting lowered down. You heard steps coming closer to you, but your eyes stayed focused on the floor, not really understanding what is happening right now.

You felt a hand holding your chin, making you raise your head and look the man in the eyes. It couldn't be...

"What? You don't recognize me anymore?" his tone cold, was it really the very person who plugged your mind everyday?

"Caleb..?" your voice so quiet that you almost didn't hear it yourself. You saw his gaze soften, more and more tears started filling your eyes. You started at him, not knowing what to do now. You believed he was dead for so long.

"It's me. I'm back." he said, his tone changing for something softer this time, dropping his cold demeanor.

You raised your hand slowly towards his face, he looked at it for a moment, letting you take your time with processing the situation.

But then you did something unexpected...

The sound of a slap echoed in the room, he looked at you in shock. You did not just do that.

"That..." your voice shook, with sadness, but also anger "Is for your 'death'." the last word came out snarky.

"Pipsque-" you pulled him by his uniform's collar crushing your lips with him, he stayed frozen, his eyes widening. He wasn't expecting that. Before he had a chance to reciprocate your angry kiss you already pulled back, pushing him away from yourself.

"And this... Is for your return." tears fell down your face, he stared at you in awe. You weren't crying. Little drops were still making their paths on your face, but there were no sobs, no shaking of your body, not even sadness left in your eyes. There was numbness... But also hope in your gaze. One thing that he wished at this very moment was that he'll manage to make everything okay. He has to make everything okay.

For you and I (For you)

For you and I (For you and I)

For you and I, yeah

#caleb #caleb x reader #caleb x you #caleb x mc #caleb love and deepspace #caleb lads #caleb l&ds #caleb lnds #love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #lads #l&ds #lnds

175 notes · View notes

revelboo · 15 hours ago

Note

I thought I loved Transformers but because of you and your writing I realized I am in hopeless servitude to SO MANY OF THESE MECHS. 😩😩 I used to only pine for Bee and the twins but SHIT YOU GOT ME BARKING FOR EVERYONE NOW. I shan’t forgive you for this!!

I regret nothing! 😀

Everything Is Alright Pt 109

IDW Starscream x Reader, Soundwave x Reader, Megatron x Reader

• Relaxing into his warm frame, you let the feel of his palm sliding against your spine lull you and rest your cheek against him, feeling his spark thrumming under you as familiar as your own heartbeat. Listening to him describe the cities of his world, and hearing the wistful longing in his voice, leaves a bitter ache inside you. He misses his home and it’s something you can’t even begin to understand when he’s told you his world was devastated by their war. That there’s no going home for him or any of them. Eyes closing as his servos of his other hand slide against the back of yours, you look up at him. “I’m sorry,” you whisper.

• Venting softly to stir your hair, he looks down at you in surprise. And it is what it is, but that you’re unhappy because he’s unhappy about a world you’ve never even seen means so much. Shifting his plating, there’s a flicker of guilt as his spark snares you and you startle against him. But you don’t resist as he wraps himself around you and that delicate spark he can only just sense. Offering you images of Iacon’s skyline, the exhilaration and freedom of flight. Watching you drift through his memories, feeling your joy sparking through him as he follows you. Circling and studying that inconsistent, gossamer thin shadow of an incomplete bond clinging to your light. We could go flying, he offers, stalling because he knows you’re going to be upset with him for this. Won’t want to understand it’s necessary at first, but you’ll forgive him. You always do. You have to.

• Reaching for a new memory when he offers it, your breath catches as a different alien city glitters beneath you, seen from the air the way he’d seen it. Turning to find him, he engulfs you and it’s not like when you’d been tangled in him before, both of you swimming through each other. You’re caged in his light, overwhelmed and unable to move or think. Confused, but aware of him tearing at you. Destroying something that’s yours, not his. Something he has no right to and you feel the loss jolt through you flinging yourself from him as soon as he releases you. Physical body jerking to get free, to break that contact as he reaches after you. And the connection stretches and snaps, his servos catching your upper arm when you slide half out of his lap. “What did you do?” Can’t breathe, shaking with that awful, wrenching wrongness and it hurts.

• “Our spark is fine,” he soothes, unsettled as you cringe away when he tries to pull you to him. Like you’re afraid of him. Closing his plating, he drags you back to him, hooking an arm around you to keep you there as you splay a hand against him, upset and almost panicking, you’re breathing much quicker than he’s used to. Had it hurt? He’s doesn’t know, but hates the thought. That twists guiltily through him as he curls himself tighter around you. Hadn’t wanted it to hurt, but he had to do it. Had to sever Soundwave’s claim to you. “It’s alright. It’s over.” His own spark aching unpleasantly, unsettled by your distress. You hadn’t known Soundwave that long, not really. Sliding his servos up your spine, his wings droop slightly. “I’m here.” And he’s all you need, because you’re all he needs. Even if you can’t see that he had to sever that leash. Can’t let Soundwave or anyone else control you or him.

• Staggering and nearly dropping the stack of data pads in his hands, it feels like being blindsided. Like when he’d lost the feel of you in his mind, but he can still sense your emotions and you’re upset. Not just upset, hurting. And he can’t sense his bond, the loss almost crippling. Denta clenching behind his mask, his head turns as Megatron looks up in surprise, chin propped on a fist. Aware of the furious sound he’s making, as he storms off the bridge and through the halls. And he’s going to strangle that self-obsessed, paranoid idiot.

• Aware that whatever upset Soundwave is something he probably doesn’t want to be involved in, Megatron is still tempted to go see the fallout. To see what’s made Soundwave that furious. Venting tiredly, he debates following. Sure that he knows exactly where the communications officer is going and that this is somehow about Starscream. It always is.

Might I recommend ‘Shit’s Gonna Be Ok’ by I Fight Dragons 🥲 I’m sorry, but really. It’ll be fine… Eventually.

#transformers x reader #starscream x reader #megatron x reader #soundwave x reader #megatron #starscream #soundwave

161 notes · View notes

mcrdvcks · 19 hours ago

Text

i love you, in every life ࿐‧₊ house of m - bittersweet

chapter summary: Logan wakes up in a distorted reality created by Wanda. Everything is far too perfect, including the fact you're alive and well.

word count: 9.5k+

pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader

notes: so this series, i love you, in every life, are all mainly oneshots of the lives you and logan have in the multiverse. unless i specify, they all are oneshots!

anyways, i wanted to do something a little different and this was actually my first idea for the multiverse concept between logan and reader. enjoy!

and, an extra note, thank y'all so much for 1k followers! i've truly had the most fun writing these stories and hearing your feedback!

warnings/tags: loosely based on 'house of m' story-line, mentioned heart problems, mentioned cardiac arrest, mentioned character death, not proofread

series masterlist

The early morning light filtered through the tall windows of the Xavier Academy. Logan sat up in bed, the tangled sheets barely covering the muscles of his broad chest. The warm smell of coffee and freshly baked bread wafted in from the kitchen. For a moment, he let himself linger, staring at the peaceful room.

It felt wrong.

The woman standing at the counter—you—shouldn’t have been here. Your laugh as you scolded the toaster for burning the bread shouldn’t have existed. And yet, it did.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” you said, your voice soft but teasing. You turned, a mug in hand, wearing one of his old flannel shirts that hung loosely over your frame. “Didn’t think you’d ever wake up. I was about to eat breakfast without you.”

Logan grunted, “maybe you should’ve.”

“Grumpy already?” You set the mug on the table near him. “You didn’t even try the coffee yet.”

He took the mug but didn’t drink. Instead, he studied your face—so familiar, so perfect. Your hair was tousled from sleep, your smile easy, as though you didn’t carry the weight of a dozen deaths. You didn’t remember them, but he did. And yet, you looked at him like you always had in those other lives, with affection, curiosity, and warmth.

“What?” you asked, tilting her head.

Logan shook his head and finally took a sip. “Nothing.”

But it wasn’t nothing. It was everything.

---

Later that day, Logan stood outside the academy’s training grounds, watching students practice their powers under your guidance. You stood at the center of the group, gesturing with animated hands as you instructed a young telekinetic mutant on control.

“That’s it,” you encouraged, your voice carrying over the field. “Focus on the edges of what you can feel, not just the center. You’ll find more strength there.”

The student grinned as a boulder hovered unsteadily in the air, then dropped it with a soft thud.

“Good! You’re getting it!” you cheered, clapping your hands.

Logan couldn’t take his eyes off you. It wasn’t just the joy you exuded or the way you brought out the best in people. It was the fact that you seemed to belong here, as if this world had always been yours.

Except it hadn’t.

He leaned against the railing, lighting a cigar as Magneto’s words from yesterday echoed in his mind: “A world where mutants thrive is a world where we all belong, Logan. Why fight against it?”

But Logan knew better. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t real. And he was starting to think the cracks in this illusion were beginning to show.

Logan stubbed his cigar out on the metal railing, his jaw tight. Watching you laugh with the students made his chest ache in a way he hadn’t let himself feel in a long time. This wasn’t the first time he’d seen that smile, those bright eyes so full of life, but it still hit him like a gut punch.

It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be.

He crossed the field to where you stood, finishing up with the young telekinetic. The boulder wobbled again before thudding to the ground, earning a small cheer from the group.

“Take five, guys,” you said, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “But don’t wander too far—we’re not done yet.”

The students scattered, leaving you alone with Logan as he approached. You tilted your head, giving him a curious look.

“What’s up, honey?” you asked, crossing your arms.

Logan’s lips twitched at the nickname. You’d called him that in another life, a long time ago—at least that’s what it felt like. He shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, trying to find the right words, but everything felt too big to say out loud.

“You’re good with them,” he finally said, nodding toward the students.

Your smile grew, soft and pleased. “They’re easy to work with. Just need someone to believe in them.” You stepped closer, tilting your head to study him. “What’s really on your mind, Logan? You’ve been watching me like I’ve got a third eye.”

He huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “You’re not wrong.”

“Care to elaborate?”

Logan looked away, his gaze falling on the boulder the kid had been lifting. “This place,” he said after a beat. “Feels too good to be true, don’t it?”

You frowned, stepping closer so you could look up at him. “What do you mean?”

“This,” he said, gesturing vaguely to the field, the academy, and then to you. “All of it.”

Your brows knit together, and your voice softened. “Logan, what’s going on? You’ve been acting... off.”

Logan’s eyes snapped back to yours. He wanted to tell you everything—to unload the weight he carried, to make you understand that none of this was what it seemed. But how could he, when you were at the center of it all?

“I’m fine,” he said gruffly, turning to walk away.

You grabbed his arm, your touch grounding him. “Don’t do that,” you said. “Don’t shut me out. Not after everything.”

Logan froze. The sincerity in your voice cut through him like a knife. He turned back to face you, his eyes searching yours. “After everything, huh?” he muttered, more to himself than to you. “You don’t even know the half of it, darlin’.”

You blinked, startled. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He opened his mouth to respond, but the sound of Magneto’s voice interrupted him.

“Logan,” Erik called from across the yard, his tone calm but commanding. “A word.”

Logan clenched his jaw, then glanced back at you. “I’ll catch you later.”

“Logan—”

But he was already walking away.

---

Inside the academy’s briefing room, Logan leaned against the wall, arms crossed as Magneto stood at the head of the table.

“You’ve been restless,” Erik said, watching him closely.

Logan snorted. “Restless? That what you’re callin’ it?”

Erik’s gaze didn’t waver. “I know what you’re thinking. That this world isn’t real. That it’s an illusion.”

Logan’s eyes narrowed. “And you’re okay with that?”

“I am,” Erik said simply. “Because it’s a better world. A world where mutants thrive, where humans no longer threaten us, and where the people we love are alive.”

Logan’s chest tightened. “It ain’t real, Erik. None of it is. And when it all comes crashin’ down, what then?”

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take,” Erik said. “But you? You’re torn. I see the way you look at her, Logan. Y/N’s alive here. Isn’t that enough?”

Logan pushed off the wall, his fists clenched. “You think I don’t want this to be real? You think I don’t wanna believe that she’s really here, laughin’ and smilin’ like she used to?” He shook his head, his voice dropping. “But it ain’t real. And if I let myself believe it is... I lose her all over again.”

Erik’s expression softened, just slightly. “Sometimes, Logan, the illusion is better than the truth.”

“Not for me,” Logan growled, turning on his heel and storming out.

---

You found Logan later that night in the library, nursing a drink and staring out the window. The moonlight cast a faint glow over his rugged features, and he looked older, more tired than usual.

“Didn’t think you were the library type,” you said, leaning against the doorframe.

He didn’t turn around. “Couldn’t sleep.”

You stepped closer, sliding into the chair across from him. “Wanna talk about it?”

Logan glanced at you, his eyes dark and unreadable. “You ever feel like somethin’ ain’t right, but you can’t put your finger on it?”

You frowned, leaning forward. “Sometimes. Why?”

He hesitated, then sighed. “This world... It’s too perfect, Y/N. Too... clean. Like it’s all been stitched together from pieces that don’t quite fit.”

You tilted your head, studying him. “What are you saying, Logan?”

“I’m sayin’...” He trailed off, his gaze dropping to his drink. “I’m sayin’ I don’t think this is real. Any of it.”

You stared at him, your heart pounding in your chest. “Logan, that’s... That’s a lot to drop on…” You trailed off, almost like someone cut off your train of thought and replaced it with a new one. “But if things are better now, isn’t that good?”

Logan’s jaw tightened, and he leaned back in his chair, swirling the liquid in his glass. His gaze didn’t leave yours, but his expression hardened, like he was fighting to keep something buried.

“Good for who, darlin’?” His voice was low, rough, and filled with a tension that made your stomach twist.

You frowned. “For us. For the kids. For everyone.” You gestured vaguely toward the window. “Logan, this—whatever it is—it’s not perfect, but it’s better than what we’ve had before, isn’t it? You’re not running. I’m not… gone.”

His hand froze mid-motion, the glass hovering just shy of his lips. He set it down carefully, his movements deliberate, like he was holding himself back.

“That’s the problem,” he said, voice quieter now but no less intense. “You shouldn’t be here.”

You blinked, confusion knitting your brows. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He hesitated, his fingers curling into a fist on the table. “You don’t remember, do you?”

“Remember what?”

Logan leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he stared at you like you held all the answers to questions he was too afraid to ask. His voice softened, tinged with something that sounded almost like guilt.

“You died,” he said, the words landing heavy between you.

Your breath caught, the room seeming to close in around you. “Logan…”

“I saw it,” he continued, his voice rough and unsteady. “You had a heart attack. Dropped dead to the ground and only survived because Jean did chest compressions until the ambulance came. You were only in the hospital for two hours before you had another one. They said it was an undiagnosed hypertrophic cardiomyopathy.”

Logan’s voice cracked slightly as he leaned back in his chair, his gaze locked on you. “You were too damn young for somethin’ like that.” His knuckles were white as he gripped the edge of the table. “One minute, we were talkin’ about dinner plans, and the next... you were gone.”

You stared at him, the weight of his words pressing down on your chest. “Logan, I—” You stopped, searching his face for something, anything that would make sense of what he was saying. “That doesn’t make any sense. I’m here. I’m fine.”

He exhaled sharply, the sound almost a growl. “That’s what’s wrong with all this, darlin’. You’re here, smilin’, laughin’—but you’re not supposed to be. You died.” His voice softened, but it didn’t lose its edge. “And now you’re here, like it never happened.”

You blinked, trying to process what he was saying. “I don’t—Logan, do you hear yourself? That’s insane.” You rubbed at your temples, a headache creeping in. “I didn’t die. I’d remember if something like that happened.”

He let out a bitter laugh, the sound low and filled with frustration. “That’s just it. You don’t remember because this place—it’s not real.”

You froze, your hand dropping to the table. “What are you talking about?”

Logan leaned forward again, his hands clenched into fists on the table. “Wanda,” he said, his voice rough. “She made this... world. A perfect little picture where everyone’s happy, where the people we lost are back.”

You stared at him, your mind racing. “Wanda? What does she have to do with this?”

“She’s the reason you’re here, sweetheart,” Logan said, his gaze unwavering. “She did this for her own reasons, but you—she brought you back too.”

You shook your head, standing up abruptly. “No. That doesn’t make sense. Why would Wanda do something like that? And why... why me?”

Logan’s jaw tightened as he stood, his height and presence suddenly overwhelming. “Because she cared about you. She couldn’t stand what happened. Hell, I couldn’t stand it either.” His voice softened, and he took a step closer. “But it ain’t real, Y/N. No matter how much I want it to be.”

You stepped back, your pulse pounding in your ears. “You’re saying this—me being here—is some kind of... illusion? Like I’m not even real?”

“No,” Logan said quickly, his voice firm. “You’re real, darlin’. But this world? It ain’t. It’s Wanda’s doin’. She twisted everything to give us what we wanted.” He paused, his expression conflicted. “And I’m guessin’ she thought I wanted you.”

You swallowed hard, your throat dry. “And do you? Want me here, I mean?”

Logan’s expression softened, the hard lines of his face easing as he stepped closer. “You think I’d ever not want you here?” His voice was low, rough with emotion. “Every time I lost you, it felt like I lost a part of myself. You think I don’t want this? That I don’t want to wake up every damn day and see you smilin’ at me?”

Your breath caught as he reached out, his hand brushing against yours. The warmth of his touch was grounding, even as everything else spun out of control.

“But it ain’t real,” he continued, his voice heavy with regret. “And if I start believin’ it is... I’ll lose you all over again when it falls apart.”

You stared at him, your chest tightening. “Logan, if this isn’t real, then... what happens to me?”

He flinched, the question hitting him like a punch to the gut. “I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I’ll be damned if I let it happen without a fight.”

You closed your eyes, trying to steady yourself. The room felt too small, too overwhelming. “I need... I need to think,” you said, stepping back.

Logan let you go, his hand falling to his side. “Take all the time you need, darlin’,” he said, his voice soft but steady. “Just don’t forget—no matter what happens, I’m here. Always.”

You nodded, your throat too tight to respond, and turned to leave. But as you walked away, his words echoed in your mind, filling the silence with a truth you weren’t sure you were ready to face.

---

You found Wanda standing by the edge of the mansion’s sprawling grounds, her gaze distant as if she were watching something far beyond what anyone else could see. Her crimson coat fluttered lightly in the breeze, and the energy around her felt heavier than usual—a tension you couldn’t quite place.

“Wanda?” you called, your voice trembling slightly.

She turned, her expression calm but with a faint shadow behind her eyes. “Hey,” she greeted softly. “You okay?”

You took a deep breath and stepped closer, trying to steady your racing thoughts. “I don’t know,” you admitted. “Something feels... off. I mean, this place—everything—it’s almost too perfect, you know?”

Wanda’s lips quirked into a small, unreadable smile. “Too perfect? That’s not something I hear often.”

You hesitated, unsure how to put your swirling thoughts into words. “Logan said something. He said—” You stopped, your voice faltering as her gaze locked onto yours.

“What did Logan say?” she asked, her tone calm but carrying an undercurrent of something sharper.

“That this... all of this... isn’t real,” you said slowly, watching her reaction. “He thinks you... made it all up. That you brought me back somehow. Is that true?”

Wanda’s expression softened, her eyes filled with something like sorrow. “Y/N, why would he say something like that? You’re here. You’re alive. Isn’t that what matters?”

“That’s not an answer,” you countered, stepping closer. “Wanda, please. I need to know. Am I—” Your voice cracked, but you pushed on. “Am I real? Is any of this real?”

For a moment, Wanda’s face flickered with something—guilt, maybe? Or hesitation? Then she reached out, placing her hands gently on your shoulders.

“Y/N,” she said, her voice soft and soothing. “You’re overthinking this. You’ve been through so much; it’s natural to feel... disoriented.”

“No,” you said, shaking your head. “This isn’t just me overthinking. Logan said—”

Her eyes glowed faintly red, and the air seemed to hum around you. “Logan’s been through a lot too. Sometimes he... struggles to separate the past from the present.”

Her words made sense—or at least, they should have. But there was a nagging doubt in the back of your mind, a thread you couldn’t quite pull free.

“Wanda, I—”

“Shh,” she murmured, her hands moving to cradle your face. The red glow in her eyes intensified. “You don’t need to worry about this, Y/N. Just... let it go.”

The hum grew louder, and a sudden wave of warmth flooded your mind, like slipping into a deep, dreamless sleep. The doubts, the questions, the gnawing sense of unease—they all seemed to dissolve, leaving behind only a gentle calm.

You blinked, your thoughts fuzzy. “What was I saying?”

Wanda smiled, her hands dropping to her sides. “Nothing important. You’re just tired, that’s all. Why don’t you take a break? Go spend some time with Logan. He’s been worried about you.”

You nodded slowly, the lingering haze in your mind making it hard to argue. “Yeah... maybe you’re right.”

Wanda watched you walk away, her expression unreadable as she turned back to the horizon. The faint glow in her eyes dimmed, and the breeze carried a whisper of her voice, too soft for anyone to hear.

“I’m sorry.”

---

From the shadows, Logan watched as you disappeared into the mansion. His jaw clenched, his fists tightening at his sides. He’d seen Wanda’s subtle hand movements, the faint glimmer of red that surrounded you as she spoke.

“She took it outta her head,” Logan muttered to himself, his voice rough with anger. “Dammit, Wanda.”

The truth hadn’t just been hidden—it had been stolen from you. And Logan knew he’d have to find a way to get it back.

---

Logan leaned against the doorway of your shared room, arms crossed tightly over his chest. The dim light from the bedside lamp cast a warm glow over you as you flipped through a magazine, completely at ease. Your relaxed posture, your soft smile—it all seemed so real. But Logan knew better.

You glanced up, your eyes lighting up when you saw him. “Hey,” you greeted, setting the magazine aside. “How long have you been lurking there?”

“Long enough,” Logan said, his voice rough but tinged with affection. He walked in, pulling the chair from the corner and spinning it around to sit backward, arms resting on the backrest. “We need to talk, darlin’.”

The tone of his voice caught your attention, and you straightened slightly. “That sounds serious. What’s going on?”

He took a deep breath, his gaze meeting yours. “It’s about Wanda. About all of this.”

You frowned, tilting your head. “What about Wanda?”

Logan’s jaw tightened, and his fists clenched against the chair. “This... this world we’re livin’ in? It ain’t real. She made it.”

Your brows furrowed, and you leaned forward, confusion flickering in your eyes. “Logan, what are you talking about? Of course, it’s real. We’re here. We’re together.”

“That’s the problem,” he said, his voice heavy. “It’s too perfect. Think about it. The mansion’s in one piece. No one’s fightin’. You’re here. Alive.”

You blinked, the weight of his words hitting you like a sudden gust of wind. “What do you mean, I’m alive? Why wouldn’t I be?”

Logan hesitated, the memory of losing you—your last breath, the stillness that followed—flashing behind his eyes. He rubbed a hand over his face, sighing. “You don’t remember, do you? We had this conversation a few hours ago. You died, a few months ago.”

You stared at him, your voice steady but softer than usual. “Even if it’s not real, why can’t you just accept it?”

Logan’s brow furrowed, his jaw tightening as he leaned forward in his chair. “Because it ain’t real, darlin’. You know me. I don’t do ‘perfect.’ This—” he gestured vaguely, his fingers flexing—“this whole thing? It’s like livin’ in a dream, but dreams don’t last. They break. And when this one does...” He trailed off, his throat working around unspoken words.

“Maybe it doesn’t have to break,” you said quietly, your eyes locked on his. “Maybe we could just let it be.”

“That’s not how it works, sweetheart,” Logan said, shaking his head. His voice was rough, the weight of years pressing down on each word. “I’ve seen too much, lost too much, to believe in fairy tales. And this? This is Wanda’s doing. It ain’t right.”

You exhaled slowly, sitting back on the bed. “Logan, why does it matter if it’s real or not? If it feels real—if we’re together, happy—why can’t that be enough for you?”

Logan let out a sharp breath, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Because you died, Y/N,” he snapped, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. “I held you, felt your heartbeat stop. I buried you, darlin’. That’s real. That’s what I remember.”

The room fell silent except for the faint hum of the lamp. You looked at him, your expression unreadable, before speaking softly. “And now I’m here.”

“That ain’t how it works!” Logan growled, his voice rising before he caught himself. He ran a hand through his hair, the muscles in his forearm flexing as he tried to rein in his frustration. “People don’t just come back. Not like this. You know it, Wanda knows it, and—dammit—you should know it too.”

“I know you’re hurting,” you said, leaning forward and placing a hand on his arm. “But what if this was her way of fixin’ things? Of givin’ us another chance?”

Logan stared at your hand on his arm, his jaw clenching tightly. “She didn’t ‘fix’ anything,” he said after a long pause, his voice low. “She twisted it. Made somethin’ up ‘cause she couldn’t face the truth. That’s not the same.”

“And what’s the truth, Logan?” you challenged, your voice firm but still gentle. “That I’m gone? That you’re supposed to just keep going, living in that pain forever? What’s wrong with her wantin’ to take some of that away?”

Logan’s eyes flicked to yours, a storm brewing behind them. “It ain’t about me, darlin’. It’s about you. She’s playin’ with your life like it’s a toy, like it’s somethin’ she can rewrite when she feels like it.”

You hesitated, your grip on his arm tightening slightly. “If I’m here now—if I get to wake up every day and see you, talk to you, love you—then maybe it’s worth it.”

He stood abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor. “You don’t understand,” he said, pacing a few steps before turning back to face you. “When this falls apart—and it will—it’s gonna tear us both to pieces. Again.”

“Maybe it won’t,” you countered, standing to meet his gaze. “Maybe it can last.”

Logan scoffed, shaking his head. “You’re just sayin’ that ‘cause she made sure you’d believe it.”

“Or maybe,” you said, your voice rising slightly, “I’m sayin’ it ‘cause I want to believe it. Because I choose to.”

The weight of your words hung between you, the space between you both charged with unspoken emotions. Logan’s fists clenched at his sides, his chest heaving as he stared at you.

“You really think this is what you want?” he asked, his tone softer but still laced with frustration. “To live in somethin’ that ain’t real, just ‘cause it feels good?”

“Yes,” you said simply, your voice unwavering. “Because being with you? It feels right.”

Logan closed his eyes for a moment, his shoulders slumping slightly. When he looked at you again, there was something raw and vulnerable in his gaze. “You deserve better than some fake life, Y/N. You deserve somethin’ real.”

You stepped closer, placing your hand on his cheek. He didn’t pull away. “And maybe, for me, this is real. You’re here. I’m here. That’s all I need.”

His hand came up to cover yours, his calloused fingers rough against your skin. “Darlin’,” he murmured, his voice breaking slightly, “if I lose you again...”

“You won’t,” you whispered, your thumb brushing his cheek. “I’m here, Logan. I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

He didn’t respond, just pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly as if you might disappear at any moment. The warmth of his embrace was familiar, comforting, and for a moment, it felt like maybe you could convince him. Maybe you could make him believe.

But deep down, you knew Logan’s grip on reality was stronger than your faith in this world.

---

“Hey! I was gonna ask you to explain quantum—” Peter cut himself off from his excited question, only to quickly turn his head behind him like he sensed something.

“Peter?” you asked, tilting your head as you watched him freeze mid-step. “Everything alright?”

Peter blinked rapidly, his usual boyish energy dimmed as his gaze darted between you and the empty hallway behind him. He scratched the back of his neck, forcing a sheepish smile. “Yeah, yeah. Totally fine. Just thought I heard something, but, uh, guess it was nothing. Mansion’s old, you know? Creaky floors and all that.”

You narrowed your eyes, not quite buying his excuse. “Since when do creaky floors freak you out? You’re Spider-Man, Peter.”

He laughed nervously, adjusting the strap of his backpack. “True, but, you know, sometimes even Spider-Men get spooked by weird noises. Occupational hazard.”

“Uh-huh,” you replied, crossing your arms. “What were you gonna ask me before you got distracted?”

“Oh, right!” Peter brightened slightly, though there was still a flicker of unease in his expression. “I was gonna ask if you could explain quantum entanglement again. I swear, I’ve read about it like a million times, but my brain just refuses to cooperate.”

Before you could answer, Logan’s voice echoed from down the hallway. “Parker. Got a minute?”

Peter turned, relief flashing across his face like Logan had just handed him a lifeline. “Uh, yeah! Sure thing, Mr. Logan. I mean, Logan. I mean, uh—”

“Just get over here,” Logan said gruffly, jerking his head toward the corner.

You frowned as Peter shot you a quick, apologetic grin before hurrying off to join Logan. Something about the exchange felt... off. Logan had been acting strange ever since your conversation earlier, and now Peter seemed jittery too.

“Logan?” you called after them, but neither turned back.

Curiosity gnawed at you as you debated whether to follow. Ultimately, you decided to let it go—for now. Whatever they were discussing, it could wait.

---

“What’s goin’ on, kid?” Logan asked, his tone low as Peter reached him. He glanced over Peter’s shoulder to make sure you hadn’t followed.

Peter shifted uncomfortably, his usual confidence faltering under Logan’s intense gaze. “I don’t know how to say this without sounding... crazy, but—does something feel... wrong to you? Like, about all of this?”

Logan crossed his arms, his expression hardening. “You pickin’ up on that too?”

“Yeah,” Peter admitted. “I mean, I wasn’t gonna say anything because it’s, like, Wanda. And she’s scary enough when she’s not messing with reality, but now... I don’t know, man. It’s like I can feel the edges of it. Like it’s all just... holding together by duct tape or something.”

Logan nodded slowly. “You’re not wrong. This whole thing—it ain’t real. It’s Wanda’s doin’. She created all this.”

Peter’s eyes widened. “So, what do we do? I mean, if it’s not real, we can’t just—”

“We’re not doin’ anything yet,” Logan interrupted, his voice firm. “First, we gotta figure out how deep this goes. She’s got Y/N wrapped up in it, convinced it’s all sunshine and rainbows.”

Peter’s face fell. “Does Y/N know?”

Logan let out a frustrated breath, running a hand through his hair. “She knows what I told her, but Wanda’s got her so tied up in this illusion, she doesn’t wanna believe it. Thinks maybe this is better than the real thing.”

Peter hesitated, glancing back toward the direction you’d gone. “Do you think she’s right? About it being better, I mean.”

Logan’s jaw tightened, his voice dropping to a near growl. “No. ‘Cause when this all comes crashin’ down, it’ll hurt her worse than losin’ it the first time. And I’m not lettin’ that happen.”

Peter nodded, his usual quips forgotten in the weight of the moment. “Alright. Just tell me what you need me to do.”

“For now? Keep this between us,” Logan said. “And keep an eye on her. If Wanda tries to mess with her head again, you let me know.”

“You got it,” Peter said, his tone more serious than Logan was used to hearing.

Logan clapped a hand on the kid’s shoulder. “Good. Now get outta here before she gets suspicious.”

Peter gave a quick salute and took off down the hallway, leaving Logan alone with his thoughts.

---

When Logan finally made his way back to your shared room, he found you sitting on the edge of the bed, your arms wrapped around your knees. You looked up as he entered, a faint smile tugging at your lips. “Hey. What was that about with Peter?”

“Kid just had some questions,” Logan said, brushing off the topic as he closed the door behind him.

“Uh-huh,” you said, your tone skeptical. “And you couldn’t have answered them in front of me because...?”

Logan sighed, running a hand through his hair as he moved to sit beside you on the bed. “It wasn’t anything important, sweetheart. Just somethin’ about training.”

You studied him for a moment, your gaze searching his face. “You’ve been acting weird ever since we talked about Wanda earlier. Is there something you’re not telling me?”

Logan hesitated, his instincts warring with his desire to protect you. Finally, he let out a heavy breath. “Darlin’, I told you everything I know. This ain’t real. But that doesn’t mean I’m gonna stop tryin’ to keep you safe.”

You reached out, placing a hand on his arm. “I’m not scared, Logan. Whatever this is, we’ll figure it out together. Okay?”

He looked at you, his heart aching with the weight of everything he couldn’t say. Instead, he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Yeah, okay,” he murmured.

But deep down, he knew the fight was far from over.

---

The illusion Wanda created was starting to fracture, but only those closest to her could see it. To everyone else, it was as if the world had always been this way—serene, idyllic, perfect. For Logan, it was anything but. He watched carefully, taking note of small inconsistencies no one else seemed to notice: the same bird flying in the same pattern every morning, children laughing at nothing, and the way the sun never seemed to fully set, as though Wanda didn’t have the energy to finish the day.

He wasn’t the only one noticing. Erik, though far subtler in his observations, had begun pulling Wanda aside more often, his sharp gaze never leaving her. Meanwhile, the Avengers who were scattered across this fabricated utopia seemed to be... different. Thor had grown quieter, almost distant, his booming laugh no longer ringing through the mansion. Natasha occasionally paused mid-conversation, her expression going blank for a moment before she’d snap back to herself. Steve? He smiled too much, too wide, like he was trying to convince himself this world was real.

But for you, things had only grown more complicated.

---

The evening light filtered through the mansion's wide windows, painting everything in golden hues. You sat on the couch, flipping through an old book. Logan entered, his steps heavy, his expression unreadable. You glanced up, offering him a soft smile.

“Hey, darlin’,” he said, his voice low as he settled beside you.

“Hey yourself,” you replied, setting the book down. “Rough day?”

“You could say that.” He hesitated, his gaze drifting toward the window. “You ever feel like somethin’ ain’t right? Like... this place, this whole damn thing, is holdin’ its breath?”

You frowned. “Logan, we’ve talked about this. I know you’re still adjusting—”

“Adjustin’?” he cut in, his tone sharper than he intended. “This ain’t about me. It’s about you. About what’s real and what ain’t.”

You stiffened slightly, your heart sinking. “Logan, we’ve been through this. I am real. I don’t know why you keep doubting that.”

“Because this world ain’t real, sweetheart,” he said, his frustration clear. “It’s Wanda’s doin’. And I think, deep down, you know that too.”

You shook your head, your voice rising slightly. “So what, you think I’m just... some figment of her imagination? That I’m not really here?”

“I think she brought you back,” he said softly, his eyes locking onto yours. “But not like you think. And now it’s all startin’ to fall apart.”

You wanted to argue, to insist that he was wrong, but his words planted a seed of doubt that you couldn’t shake. “If this world is falling apart,” you said carefully, “then why are we still here? Why is Wanda still holding it together?”

“Maybe she’s tryin’ to keep you,” he replied. “Maybe you’re the reason she did all this in the first place.”

The air between you grew heavy, and for the first time, you found yourself unable to meet his gaze.

---

Elsewhere in the mansion, the cracks in reality were becoming impossible to ignore.

In the kitchen, Storm froze mid-motion, a glass slipping from her hand and shattering on the floor. She blinked rapidly, confusion washing over her face. “Where... where am I?” she whispered, her voice trembling.

Tony Stark stood in the hallway, staring at a photo on the wall. In it, he stood beside Steve, Thor, and Natasha, all of them smiling. But the faces in the photo shifted subtly, warping into something unrecognizable before snapping back to normal. “Friday,” he murmured, though his AI didn’t respond. “What the hell is going on?”

And then there was Charles. He sat in his study, his hands pressed to his temples as he tried to focus. “Wanda,” he whispered, his voice strained. “You need to stop this. It’s breaking.”

But Wanda, standing in her room, refused to listen. Her fingers trembled as she clutched a framed photo of you, her lips moving in a silent mantra. “It’s perfect. It has to stay perfect. They deserve this.”

The glow of her magic pulsed erratically around her, and for a moment, the world flickered. The colors dulled, the mansion creaked as if it were alive, and the faint sound of static buzzed in the air.

---

You found Wanda as she exited Billy and Tommy’s shared bedroom, her steps hesitant as she moved down the hall toward the library. Her fingers twitched at her sides, and her expression was distant, like she was lost in a storm of thoughts. You called out to her, your voice firm, cutting through the silence.

“Wanda.”

She froze mid-step, her shoulders tensing before she turned to face you. Her eyes darted to the floor for a moment, then back to you. “Y/N,” she said softly, her voice careful. “What are you doing up? It’s late.”

You crossed your arms, holding your ground. “I could ask you the same thing. What were you doing in the boys’ room?”

Her jaw tightened, but she didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she stepped closer, her tone soothing. “I was just checking on them. Making sure they were okay.”

“Don’t,” you said sharply, taking a step back. “Don’t try to brush me off like that. We need to talk.”

“About what?” she asked, though you could see the flicker of apprehension in her eyes. “Is something wrong?”

You clenched your fists at your sides, willing yourself to stay calm. “Logan told me. About all of this. About what you’re doing. And I want the truth, Wanda—not some carefully constructed excuse. No wiping my mind, no distractions. Just tell me.”

Wanda’s lips parted as if to respond, but she faltered, her gaze dropping to the floor again. Her silence was answer enough. You took a shaky breath, pushing past the lump in your throat.

“It’s true, isn’t it? None of this is real.”

“It’s real,” she said quickly, her voice laced with desperation. “It’s real because I made it real. I did this for you, Y/N. For them.” Her hands gestured vaguely toward the hallway, where Billy and Tommy’s room was.

“And Vision,” you added quietly. The name hit her like a slap, and her expression crumpled for a brief moment before she steeled herself again.

“For all of us,” she whispered.

You shook your head, a bitter laugh escaping your lips. “No. You didn’t do this for all of us, Wanda. You did this for you. Because you couldn’t let go.”

Her breath hitched, and she took a step closer. “You don’t understand. You—you died, Y/N. Do you remember that? How helpless I felt when you—when I couldn’t—” She broke off, her voice cracking under the weight of her emotions.

“I know I died,” you said, your voice steady despite the knot in your stomach. “Logan told me. But that doesn’t justify this.”

“You don’t understand,” she repeated, her tone defensive. “You don’t know what it was like to lose you. To lose them. It was too much, Y/N. I couldn’t—I couldn’t do it.”

Your heart twisted at the pain in her voice, but you refused to let it cloud your judgment. “So you decided to rewrite the world instead? To play god and pull us all into your grief? Wanda, you can’t keep doing this. You’re hurting everyone, including yourself.”

Her hands trembled as she reached for you, but you stepped back again. Her face crumpled, and for the first time, the cracks in her façade were fully visible.

“I didn’t mean for it to go this far,” she admitted, tears welling in her eyes. “I just wanted us to have a chance. To have peace.”

“Then show me,” you said, your voice softer now. “Show me what happened. How I died. I need to see it, Wanda.”

Her eyes widened, and she shook her head. “No. I can’t do that to you. It’s too much—it’ll hurt you.”

“I don’t care,” you said firmly. “I deserve to know. I need to know.”

Wanda hesitated, her hands clenching at her sides. “Y/N, please—”

“Please, Wanda,” you interrupted, your voice cracking. “If you care about me at all, you’ll show me.”

For a long moment, she said nothing. Then, with a shaky breath, she nodded. “Alright. But... I’m sorry.”

---

You and Logan were eating leftovers that Ororo had made earlier in the day—the two of you had been… preoccupied with something else during dinner time.

“We could go to that Chinese place you’ve been wantin’ to go to.” Logan said.

“After we go to the bookstore?” you asked sweetly, leaning back in your chair. “I want to see if they have that book I’ve been wanting.” You rolled your shoulders again, wincing slightly as a dull ache pulsed between your shoulder blades.

Logan, sitting across the table from you, gave you a look. “Still feelin’ that?” he asked, his tone sharp with concern.

You waved a hand dismissively. “It’s probably just from sitting weird or something. I’ll stretch later—it’ll be fine.”

“Darlin’, you’ve been complainin’ about that for days. And that stomach pain you had last night? Maybe you oughta talk to Jean, just to be safe.”

You sighed, a bit exasperated. “I will, Logan. Tomorrow morning, before we head out, okay?”

He didn’t look entirely convinced, but he gave a short nod. “Good. I ain’t takin’ chances with you.”

You smirked, rising from your chair with your plate in hand. “What, suddenly all cautious? Didn’t seem that way earlier when we were—”

Logan gave a low growl, his expression softening into an amused grin. “Keep talkin’, sweetheart. See where it gets ya.”

You laughed, placing the plate in the sink and rinsing it off. Over your shoulder, you teased, “Maybe I’ll save that for later. You know, give you something to look forward to.”

“You’re somethin’ else,” he muttered, shaking his head, though his lips twitched upward. You could feel his eyes on you as you moved to the fridge and grabbed two beers, popping the caps off on the counter.

“You want your usual toast to Ororo for dinner?” you joked, turning back to him with a beer in hand. “Something like ‘thanks for makin’ us look bad in the kitchen’?”

“Funny,” he deadpanned, reaching for the beer as you handed it to him. “You should quit physics and take up comedy.”

Before you could reply, a wave of dizziness washed over you, sudden and disorienting. Your vision blurred, and the edges of the room seemed to darken. The beer bottle slipped from your grasp, shattering on the floor as you staggered back.

“Y/N?” Logan’s voice cut through the haze, sharp and alarmed.

You tried to steady yourself, but your legs gave out, and you crumpled to the floor. Your chest tightened painfully, the ache between your shoulder blades now radiating outward like fire. You could barely hear Logan as the room tilted further into darkness.

“Jean!” Logan bellowed, his voice raw with panic. He was at your side in an instant, his hands trembling as he tried to rouse you. “Darlin’, stay with me. C’mon, open your eyes!”

Footsteps pounded down the hall, and then Jean and Scott burst into the kitchen. Jean dropped to her knees beside you, her fingers immediately moving to your neck to check for a pulse.

“Her heart’s stopped,” Jean said urgently, already positioning her hands on your chest. She began compressions without hesitation, her movements precise but desperate. “Scott, call 911. Now!”

Scott fumbled for his phone, his usually steady demeanor cracking as he dialed. “We need an ambulance at Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters. It’s an emergency—cardiac arrest.”

Logan hovered over you, his hands balled into fists as he fought the urge to intervene. “Jean, she—she just dropped. She said her back was hurtin’, her stomach—”

Jean cut him off, her tone firm. “Logan, give me space! Keep talking to her—she might still hear you.”

“Darlin’, you gotta fight this,” Logan rasped, his voice breaking. “You hear me? You ain’t quittin’ on me, not now. Not ever.”

The minutes stretched agonizingly, Jean alternating between compressions and breaths while Scott relayed information to the dispatcher. Finally, you gasped—a ragged, shallow breath that made Jean sit back in relief.

“She’s back,” Jean said, though her voice was tight with worry. “But we need to get her to the hospital. There’s something—”

Before she could finish, the sound of sirens cut through the air, and the paramedics arrived. They worked swiftly, loading you onto a stretcher and carrying you out, Logan never leaving your side until they pushed him back to allow the medics room to work.

At the hospital, hours passed in a tense blur. Jean, Scott, and Logan paced the waiting room, the latter practically wearing a groove into the floor. When a doctor finally emerged, Logan surged forward, his expression dark with worry.

“She’s stable, for now,” the doctor said carefully. “But she experienced a significant cardiac event. We’re running tests, but it appears to be hypertrophic cardiomyopathy—an undiagnosed condition.”

“And what the hell does that mean?” Logan demanded, his voice low and dangerous.

“It means her heart’s working overtime. There’s thickening in the walls, and it likely led to her arrest,” the doctor explained. “She’ll need monitoring and possibly surgery to prevent future complications.”

But you never made it that far. Two hours later, as Logan sat by your side, clutching your hand in his, the monitors began to wail. Your heart stopped again. The staff rushed in, pushing Logan aside as they tried to revive you.

This time, you didn’t come back.

---

Your eyes opened with a sharp gasp, the room spinning as you met Wanda’s tear-streaked face. Her red, glowing irises flickered and dimmed as her powers pulled back, leaving her looking more broken than you’d ever seen her. The weight of what you’d just witnessed crushed your chest—it felt too real, too vivid to be anything but the truth.

“I didn’t even get to say goodbye,” Wanda whispered, her voice trembling, the Sokovian accent she’d long suppressed slipping through as her emotions bled into every word. Her hands hovered near you, like she wanted to comfort you but didn’t know if she deserved to.

You blinked rapidly, trying to steady your breathing as the memory of your death burned in your mind. The ache between your shoulder blades and the tightness in your chest felt so fresh, so real, it was hard to remember you were sitting in front of Wanda, not in a hospital bed.

But there was no time to focus on yourself. You sat up straighter, your voice trembling but firm. “Wanda, this has to stop.”

She flinched like you’d slapped her. “No,” she said quickly, shaking her head. “You don’t mean that. You can’t mean that, Y/N.”

“I do,” you said, meeting her gaze, your eyes stinging with unshed tears. “I’m dead, Wanda. I died. And nothing you do can change that.”

“It doesn’t have to be this way,” she insisted, her voice rising, more desperate now. “I fixed it. I brought you back—I brought all of you back. Billy, Tommy, Vision—they’re here, Y/N. We can all be together, like it was supposed to be.”

“Wanda,” you said sharply, cutting her off. “This isn’t real. You didn’t fix anything. You’re just… avoiding it.”

“No!” she cried, her voice cracking. “I gave us a second chance. Isn’t that what you’d want? To see Logan again? To see the boys smiling and safe? Don’t you want this?”

Your heart twisted at the anguish in her words, but you couldn’t let it sway you. “Of course I want that. Of course I want to be with Logan, with all of you. But not like this. Not if it’s a lie.”

She stared at you, her chest rising and falling rapidly as her breathing grew uneven. “Why does it matter if it’s a lie?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “It feels real, doesn’t it? It’s real enough.”

“It matters because it’s hurting you, Wanda,” you said, your voice softening. “And it’s hurting everyone else, too. Logan knows, doesn’t he? And Erik? They’re just as trapped as you are.”

Her lips trembled, and she looked away, unable to meet your eyes. “They don’t understand,” she muttered. “They think they do, but they don’t. Erik has lost people before. Logan… he’s lost you more times than I can count. But it’s different when it’s your children, Y/N. You don’t know what that’s like.”

You hesitated, the weight of her grief pressing down on you. “No,” you admitted quietly. “I don’t. But I know what it’s like to love someone so much it hurts. And I know that love means letting go sometimes, even when it’s the hardest thing in the world.”

Her shoulders shook, and she hugged herself, as though trying to keep from falling apart. “I can’t let go,” she said, her voice so small it was almost swallowed by the silence. “I can’t lose you again. Or them. Or Vision. I can’t.”

“Wanda,” you said, your voice firm but kind. “You already lost us. I’m gone. Vision’s gone. Billy and Tommy… they were never real to begin with.” You reached out, touching her arm gently. “This isn’t peace. This is a prison you built for yourself.”

Her tears fell freely now, and she covered her face with her hands, her sobs shaking her whole body. You stood, closing the distance between you and pulling her into a hug. She stiffened at first, but then she crumpled against you, clutching your shirt like it was the only thing keeping her grounded.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered brokenly. “I’m so sorry.”

“I know,” you murmured, stroking her hair gently. “But it’s time to let go. It’s time to set things right.”

She pulled back just enough to look at you, her expression conflicted. “But if I let go… you’ll be gone.”

You smiled sadly, brushing a tear from her cheek. “I’ll always be with you, Wanda. But you have to let me go. You have to let all of us go.”

Her lip quivered, and she nodded slowly, though it looked like it physically hurt her. “I don’t know if I can do it,” she admitted.

“You can,” you said firmly. “You’re stronger than you think.”

Wanda closed her eyes, taking a deep, shuddering breath. When she opened them, they glowed red again, her powers swirling to life around her. The walls of the room seemed to shift and crack, and the sound of children laughing echoed faintly before fading away.

“I love you, Y/N,” she said softly, her voice steady despite the tears in her eyes.

“I love you too,” you replied, squeezing her hand one last time before the world dissolved into light.

---

Logan walked to the library, his heavy boots echoing in the quiet hallways of the mansion. His hands were shoved deep in his jacket pockets, fists clenched tight. He could feel the tension in the air—a crackling weight that made his skin itch. It wasn’t just Wanda’s doing; it was him, too. He couldn’t sit back anymore. Not when he knew what was at stake.

Halfway there, Erik stepped into the hallway, his broad frame blocking Logan’s path. His expression was unreadable, but there was something sharp in his gaze.

“Outta the way, Erik,” Logan growled, his voice low and steady.

“You can’t confront her now,” Erik said, his tone just as calm, but there was a warning there. “It’s too fragile. If you push her too hard, this entire illusion could collapse violently. Do you want to hurt her more than she’s already hurting?”

Logan’s jaw tightened, his teeth grinding as he stepped closer. “This illusion is hurtin’ her. Hurtin’ all of us. She’s gotta let it go. You know that as well as I do.”

Erik didn’t move. “And if she can’t? If you force her hand and she snaps? This isn’t just about you or me or even her. Think about the others—Billy, Tommy, Vision. They’re as real to her as the air she breathes.”

Logan’s eyes darkened, a flicker of pain crossing his face. “Don’t think I don’t know that. But I lost her once. Hell, I’ve lost her more times than I can count. I ain’t gonna lose her to some damn fantasy.”

Erik’s eyes narrowed, his voice dropping. “She created this because she lost too. She’s clinging to what little she has left. Are you really ready to take it all away?”

Before Logan could respond, the walls around them began to tremble. The faint sound of children laughing echoed through the hallway, followed by a low hum of static. Logan’s sharp eyes flicked around, taking in the cracks spreading along the edges of the illusion.

“Looks like it ain’t up to me anymore,” Logan muttered, his voice grim. He pushed past Erik, who didn’t stop him this time.

As Logan stormed toward the library, the tremors grew stronger. The pristine walls of the mansion shimmered, flickering between their familiar design and something darker, rawer. By the time Logan reached the library doors, he could hear crying and hushed reassurances.

He opened the door to find you and Wanda kneeling on the ground, the former holding onto you tightly as her hands glowed red.

You looked over at Logan as the world around you shimmered red and mouthed “I love you” right before everything went white.

As the shining light faded away, the mansion reappeared around them, quiet and still. Wanda knelt on the floor, her arms outstretched toward the air where you had been moments before. Her hands fell limply through the space, trembling as she stared at the emptiness in front of her. The tears on her cheeks glistened faintly in the flickering light.

Logan stepped into the room, his heavy boots echoing against the hardwood floor. His jaw was clenched tight, his eyes dark with fury and heartbreak as he took in the sight of Wanda. She was a shadow of herself—broken, sobbing, and clutching at nothing.

“Wanda,” Logan growled, his voice low and menacing.

She flinched at the sound, her red-glowing eyes darting up to meet his. Her lips trembled, and she opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out.

Logan didn’t hesitate. He closed the distance between them in three long strides, his hands grabbing Wanda by the arms and yanking her to her feet. He slammed her back against the nearest bookshelf, the impact shaking loose a few books that thudded to the ground. His claws extended with a sharp snikt, the shining adamantium glinting dangerously as he pressed them to her throat.

“Why?” he snarled, his voice rough and ragged. “Why’d you bring her back, just to tear her away from me again?”

Wanda gasped, her hands coming up instinctively to grip his wrists. “Logan,” she choked out, her voice strained. “I—”

“No,” he snapped, cutting her off. His claws twitched, close enough to graze her skin. “You don’t get to explain it away. You don’t get to justify this. You knew what you were doin’, and you did it anyway.” His voice cracked, the raw pain bleeding through. “You brought her back, Wanda. I saw her. I held her. And now she’s gone again.”

Tears streamed down Wanda’s face as she shook her head frantically. “I didn’t mean to hurt you,” she whispered. “I just—I couldn’t—”

“Couldn’t what?” Logan barked, his voice rising. “Let go? Face the truth? You think you’re the only one who’s lost her? I’ve been losin’ her for centuries, Wanda. Over and over again. And every goddamn time, it breaks me. But this—” He gestured around the room with his free hand, his claws still hovering at her neck. “This was worse than any of it. This was cruel.”

Wanda sobbed openly now, her body trembling against the bookshelf. “I just wanted to fix it,” she said, her voice cracking. “I wanted us all to have a second chance—Billy, Tommy, Vision… you. I thought if I could bring her back, you’d be happy again. I thought it would make everything right.”

Logan let out a bitter laugh, the sound sharp and cutting. “Happy? You think this made me happy? Watchin’ her slip away again? Watchin’ her know what was happenin’ and still tryin’ to make you feel better?” His claws retracted suddenly with a metallic hiss, and he stepped back, releasing her roughly.

Wanda sagged against the bookshelf, her hands clutching at her chest as though trying to hold herself together. “I didn’t mean for it to happen like this,” she whispered. “I didn’t know it would fall apart.”

“You didn’t think,” Logan spat. “You didn’t care. You were so wrapped up in your own grief, you didn’t stop to think about what it’d do to the rest of us. Erik told me not to push you. Said you’d snap if I did. But guess what, Wanda? You already snapped. And you dragged us all down with you.”

She looked up at him, her eyes filled with desperation. “I just wanted her back,” she said, her voice barely audible. “I wanted all of you back.”

Logan’s face softened slightly, the anger giving way to the raw ache beneath. He sighed, dragging a hand down his face as he tried to steady himself. “I get it,” he said quietly. “More than you know. But what you did—it ain’t right, Wanda. It ain’t real. And it ain’t fair to her or any of us.”

Wanda nodded slowly, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks. “I’ll fix it,” she said shakily. “I’ll make it right.”

“You better,” Logan said, his voice low and dangerous. He turned on his heel, heading for the door. But before he left, he paused, glancing back over his shoulder. “One more thing,” he added. “Don’t ever use her like that again. Not for your pain. Not for anything.”

And then he was gone, the echo of his footsteps fading into the silence.

Wanda sank to the floor, wrapping her arms around herself as she sobbed. She had thought she was giving everyone a gift, but now she saw it for what it was—a prison of her own making, one that had only brought more pain.

In the distance, Logan stalked down the hallway, his mind swirling with the memory of your voice, your touch, your final words. I love you.

He clenched his fists, his claws threatening to break through again as he let out a low growl. Wanda might fix the mess she’d made, but nothing would erase the weight of losing you again. Not this time. Not ever.

first, i just wanna say thank you to dr. mike for teaching me that when someone goes into cardiac arrest you should immediately start chest compressions, chest compressions, chest compressions! (iykyk)

also, i know this is not an accurate representation of the 'house of m' storyline, but it's somewhat close? right? anyways, i think the next one of these is gonna be the logan movie, so buckle up!

#logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #james howlett x reader #james howlett x you #logan howlett #logan howlett fanfiction #logan howlett x fem!reader #logan howlett fic #i love you in every time #i love you in every life

152 notes · View notes

monstertreden · 1 day ago

Note

◡̈⋆🅷🅸(●’◡’●)ﾉ!! saw that requests for writing is open, so I would like to politely and gladly request this 🤍

mutual pining with optimus prime and human fem reader!! and if possible, the timeline in the bumblebee film (2018) please. optimus is confused about the blossoming feelings he has for reader and seeks help from bumblebee since he has been on earth longer and assumes he knows better haha!! bumblebee is like his wingman :3c

sorry for yapping, but this is my request please and thank you 🥹🫶🏻 have a good one!!! <33

☁︎ RAINY DAYS ☁︎

-Reader: FEM reader -TW: none -Character: Optimus Prime (Transformers 2018 movie) -Summary: Optimus develops a quiet, protective affection for a human companion, treasuring their moments together. -Word count : 1453 -A/N: Ahhh this was so cutee!! I've tried my best, anon! :) It took me a bit to polish this one just trying to catch Optimus character better :3, hope you like it! . . . I love big robots.

The Prime stood in quiet contemplation, his optics flickering with the weight of his thoughts. Today the "Autobots base" was noiseless, except for the only sound in the room that came from a small TV. Its screen casted a faint glow, as his loyal companion, Bumblebee, zapped through various channels, each displaying what he presumed was human entertainment. The great leader of the Autobots had faced countless battles and made decisions that shaped the fate of Earth itself. Yet, now, he was confronted with a challenge that left him uncertain… his growing affection for a human.

He turned his helm towards Bumblebee, who was still tinkering with a small rectangular device, undoubtedly another human invention. The scout's dexterous servos moved with precision, his curiosity for human culture evident in every motion. That curiosity he had for humans was something else, Bumblebee had always been adept at understanding humans, particularly one individual who had become dear to the scout’s spark, a connection Optimus couldn’t quite wrap his helm around.

"Bumblebee, my dear friend." Optimus's voice rumbled inside the shed, to which the scout beeped in acknowledgement, blue optics lifting from the small device he held. For all his wisdom and experience, Optimus found the nuances of such personal connections… elusive, particularly when it came to matters involving a certain earth native. "I find myself in need of your counsel…” his voice steady but laced with an uncharacteristic hesitance. “…might I ask, how does one get acquainted with an earthling?”

Bumblebee's optics brightened with amusement. Lately, he had seen the Prime’s subtle shifts once he got closer to their human friend. To see the unshakeable pillar of their team, a leader who rarely wavered, seeking guidance on something as deeply personal as affection, from him! Knowing full well that too much teasing could get him grounded, once again, by the big boss, he suppressed a teasing comment.

Shifting between radio stations, Bumblebee spoke "—that’s it!—might as well spend quality time with her—boss!”

The idea of approaching a human affectionately weighed heavily on Optimus. Deep down he was lost in thought, the alliance between humans and Autobots came first. However, this particular human had earned his respect, and gradually, he found himself warming up to her presence.

It was unexpected…

Ever attuned to his leader's demeanour nuances, Bumblebee softened his veiled teasing, followed by his next suggestion “---You all go for--- a Joy Ride!---”

Racing with a pick-up truck? That would be too risky, perhaps even impractical. His alt mode was functional, built for resilience and reliability, not for speed or flashiness, neither a sports car nor a sleek vehicle. It was a step he could take, though at his own pace.

"I thank you, dear friend" Optimus said, a note of gratitude in his voice. "Your insight is... most valuable."

.ᐟ.ᐟ

The sky had darkened, thick clouds gathering as a gentle rain began to fall. Subsequentially, the steady rhythm of the droplets intensified, each drop falling heavier than before. Amid the relentless rain, another sound broke through the downpour. It was the distinctive hum of an engine, accompanied by the sharp, glowing brilliance of the four headlights piercing through the rain. The pickup truck stood resolutely by the side of the road, its metallic frame shimmering as droplets clung to its surface.

The truck had been waiting patiently for an indeterminate time as then, through the haze of rain she appeared, huddled under a small red umbrella. Illuminated by the soft glow of a streetlamp, Optimus watched as she approached, her steps careful on the slick pavement. Once she reached his side, the door unlocked with a quiet click, inviting her inside. “Finally—” trembling, she climbed into the passenger seat, the door closing firmly behind her.

Inside, she was enveloped by the warmth of the front seats, a stark contrast to the cool rain outside. She set her umbrella aside and leaned back in the seat, with a contented sigh. "Thanks a lot for picking me up, Optimus" her voice resonated in his spark “I’m terribly sorry, I hope I didn’t make you wait too long under this damn rain! I swear, my weather said it was going to be cloudy...totally not this??”

"It is no trouble," Optimus replied, his voice a gentle rumble through the speakers. “I wouldn't want you walking in this kind of weather, you might get hurt. Never hesitate to give me a call, little one.”

Soon enough the engine started, and they drove in comfortable silence, the rain creating a soothing backdrop. Optimus found solace in these quiet moments, the presence of his human companion filling the space with an unspoken connection. He relished the opportunity to simply be near her, to share in the simplicity of the moment. This was his kind of “Joy ride”, a serene, intimate experience far removed from the high-energy adventures Bumblebee often took part in.

As they neared her home, the glow of streetlights casting soft halos on the rain-slicked road, she turned slightly, her gaze thoughtful. "You know," she began "I’ve always appreciated how you make time for me. It means a lot."

Optimus's spark swelled with an emotion that, despite his longevity and vast experience since he first came online, he was still learning to fully understand. "Your companionship brings me a sense of peace," he admitted, the sincerity in his tone unmistakable. "It is a privilege to be a part of your world."

Her hand reached out, soft fingers brushing against the dashboard in a gesture of affection. “And it's a privilege to have you in mine, truly" she whispered, her voice barely audible over the hum of the engine. She knew he could hear her, loud and clear, even if he didn’t respond immediately. There was a quiet understanding between them, one that was broken by his warm voice, drawing her attention.

“Would you like to hear some stories, my little friend?”

.ᐟ.ᐟ

An hour had passed, her eyelids grew heavy and she found herself lulled by the light sway of the truck. It was a rare moment of peace in a world often filled with chaos. Here, cradled in the safety of Optimus Prime, she allowed herself to drift into a peaceful slumber, trusting completely in the steadfast guardian who was carrying her home.

“---This brings many memories in my circuit” Optimus mused softly “The first steps we Autobots took on your lively, vibrant planet. It’s a bittersweet feeling, filled with nostalgia…” His words trailed off as he realized she had succumbed to sleep, her form gently resting against the cushion seat. “oh…” His words had continued longer than he intended. She had fallen asleep, her head resting against the cushioned seat.

His engine hummed quietly as he turned the corner by her house. With a slow, deliberate movement, the Prime transformed. His massive frame shifted awkwardly, yet he was careful enough to avoid any disruption.

With utmost care, his servos extended towards her, cradling her sleeping form. She stirred slightly but did not wake, her trust in him evident in her relaxed posture. As if in the hands of someone who would never harm her.

Attentive optics caught sight of the slightly open window. Soon, Optimus approached it, parting it with a click, careful not to make a sound. The rain had all but ceased, leaving the night air cool and fresh. With ultimate precision, he laid her down on her bed, tucking the blanket around her in a gesture that felt almost human. He lingered for a moment, his optics soft, his gaze filled with a tenderness that reflected his deep sense of protectiveness. She was safe here, in the comfort of her own room, sheltered from the outside world.

He stood there for a moment, his optics soft as he gazed at her peaceful expression. "Goodnight," he whispered, his voice a deep murmur. "May the stars always guide you."

.ᐟ.ᐟ

As he quietly stepped back from the window, miraculously avoiding breaking the glass, the Prime remained near her backyard, his massive form casting a shadow over the wall of her house. The soft hum of his systems settled into a quiet vigil, ensuring her safety throughout the night. There Optimus found solace in the knowledge that, for now, as long as he was with her, she would be safe and sound. With the Autobots' base under control, he decided to linger near her home, keeping a watchful optic on her, a silent but devoted promise of protection and care.

The faint light of the stars reflected in his optics as the night enveloped him while he transformed back into his vehicle mode.

Tomorrow would be another day.

#transformers #optimus prime #optimus prime x reader #transformers movie #bumblebee 2018 #transformers x reader #transformers x human #transformers optimus

151 notes · View notes

zepskies · 18 hours ago

Text

Omg thank you so much, Liane!!! 🥹💓💓 Pls, you never have to apologize for sharing your thoughts on my writing -- however short or however long. I love it all!!

Still can't say much about Beau, since I still haven't gotten around to watching Big Sky yet (I definitely plan to, especially after your recommendation -- I just don't have Disney+ currently 🥹), except that his was the sexiest imo😮‍💨 Their dynamic is the most sensual.

Oh Beau comes in on the last episode of season 2. I've seen that through season 3, and Sheriff Beau Arlen is an absolute delight. 🥰 But omg I find it so interesting that you actually liked his part the most. I definitely had fun with his part -- and that line in particular. 😏❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

Now, for Dean, you always capture his character so perfectly, Alex. ❤️❤️ You hit the nail on the head again! Especially with how he articulates via facial expressions. Those eyebrow wiggles are 100% Dean. I can picture his stupid, pretty grin so vividly and it fits so well here. He's so silly and playful with the reader, it's so cute!!! Feels so domestic and comfy.

That compliment means so much to me, thank you! 🥹🥹 To me, when Dean's comfortable and happy, he's all jokey and grinning and eyebrow waggly loll. That "stupid, pretty grin" right? 😂

Even in non-spicy scenarios, I know for a fact he'd love to rest his head on her thighs, her tummy, her chest, her butt -- she's his favorite pillow fr.

Omg yessss I absolutely love this!! I need to incorporate that thought in the Midnight Espresso-verse for sure. 💗

Also, side note, but a favorite headcanon of mine is Dean having gained a little bit of weight in the later seasons himself. He's not in his early to mid twenties anymore, bodies change, his love for greasy food doesn't. And he absolutely deserves the joy of that pizza followed by three slices of pie (as well as having a partner that matches his appetite, someone after his own heart). Dean with a soft tummy owns my heart and soul.

Oooh you know what, this is so realistic and I've seen writers incorporate this into their AU post-season 15 "fix it" stories especially. I totally agree with that now that you put that idea in my head. 💞

And Ben... Of course he jumps to the wrong conclusion at first. Like, yes, he's obviously self centered, but also: I love that somehow it didn't even occur to him that maybe she's feeling uncomfortable/insecure. As if, well, she's hot to him, so she's hot, end of the story -- that sounds about right. 😭😂 You nailed it, again.

Ahaha YEP, that's pretty much it. And if she doesn't think so? Well, he's got ways of showing her otherwise. 😏

Btw, before I read Ben's part, I literally thought "well, more for him to grab and manhandle, he's gotta put that superhero strength to use somehow" haha! Pretty sure we can all agree that he thinks modern beauty standards are ridiculous.

LOLL that's exactly where my thought process was too! Women of the 40s-50s were actually allowed to have a fuller figure. 💞

Fantastic job on all three of these. Such a nice request and a great exploration of this topic. <3

Thank you again so much. 😭😭 This is why I hang on to requests like this that I know have the power to potentially touch other people the way it struck me. 💗💗

Headcanon: Body Insecurity/Appreciation

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Reader, Beau Arlen x Reader, Soldier Boy/Ben x Reader

AN: This one was requested by one of my lovely Patreon members, @roseblue373. 💜 It's a special one to me personally, being plus-sized myself and having gone through my share of insecurities. Wish I had one of these guys to make it better lol!~

Prompt/Request: Great job with the latest Dean/Beau/Ben reacts vignettes! I'd love to see one where reader has put on weight and isn't happy with their body, and how each would make her feel better!! IF the muse agrees, of course! ❤️

HC: How Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen and Soldier Boy (Ben) would react to your body insecurity.

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Established relationship, body insecurity (but also body appreciation), thicc thirty, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, spiciness/smuttishness.

Dean Winchester

You've started breezing past mirrors when you get out of the shower.

Because if you catch sight of your own reflection, you can't help but utter a sigh, your lips dipping into a frown.

In the privacy of the room you share with Dean in the bunker, you take a risk in unwrapping the towel from your body in front of the mirror.

You inspect yourself with growing dejection, noting all the places that are rounder, heavier, less firm than they used to be.

Looks like no amount of running down leads and killing monsters has been enough to keep you in shape.

Too much shitty fast food, too many times you indulged yourself with snacks and dessert alongside your foodie boyfriend.

"What'cha doin', sweetheart?" Dean asks. He steps into the room while wiping donut icing from the corner of his mouth.

Speak of the devil.

When Dean finally catches you frowning at yourself in the mirror, you inhale sharply and close the towel back up.

"Nothing. Just need to get dressed," you reply quickly. "Shower's open."

You try to offer him a smile, despite the pang of jealousy when you eye him.

He gave you the first chance at the shower after the latest case wrapped up, so he's still wearing most of his FBI suit, sans jacket. The white dress shirt is rolled up to his elbows, a few days of scruff neatly trimmed across his cheeks.

The man can cram an entire pizza down his gullet and wash it down with three slices of apple pie, not to mention countless beers. And still, Dean stays looking downright edible.

By comparison, you feel...fat. Like you've let yourself go.

You turn away from him to grab your well-worn sweatpants and an oversized shirt; you plan to change alone in the bathroom, but Dean grabs your arm.

"Who says you need to get dressed?" he says, popping his brows with a suggestive grin. He slips his arms around your waist, but your instinct is to shy away from his hold. You chuckle awkwardly and avoid his now curious gaze.

"Sorry, babe. Um...I'm wiped. I just want to get to bed," you say.

But Dean isn't fooled. His spidey sense is tingling, and his gut is almost never wrong.

His hand slides down your arm and grasps your hand, tugging you back into his arms. You utter a little gasp, but you ultimately smile at his familiar grin. There's a perceptive gleam in his eyes though.

"You know, seems like you've been pretty wiped lately," he says, raising a brow. "It's been a while since we, uh..."

He waggles his brows playfully, squeezing your hips. You want to smile, but you can't let yourself. You can't quite look at him either.

For Dean, it's another glaring red flag. His lips form a frown, and he dips his chin to find your eyes.

"Hey," he says. "What's goin' on? Talk to me."

His tone is so sincere, you have to blink against the sting of tears. Your lower lip wobbles, and Dean frowns in earnest. He presses a hand to your cheek and gets you to look at him with your watery eyes.

"Sweetheart, you gotta tell me what's wrong," he says, more gently, but serious.

Eventually, you're able to get it out. You can't bear the thought of him touching you, because lately, you can't even bear looking at yourself.

"I know I've been gaining weight, I just..." your voice breaks, and you gesture haphazardly at your body. "I'd get it if you're not really into this right now."

Dean's heart clenches. He's downright shocked at your confession, and more than a little disheartened. He presses a hand to your cheek and guides you to look at him.

"All right, hold up just one damn minute."

His calloused fingers gently brush away your tears, but his hands keep moving, slowly traveling down your body. They slide down your bare arms, skimming the sides of your breasts.

Your breath hitches. Your hand is still fisted over your beating heart, keeping your towel closed. His hands continue to move, molding to the curve of your waist over the fuzzy fabric.

"I'll admit, we've been pretty busy lately with everything we've got going on. But if you think that means I'm ever not into this delectable, sexy, voluptuous, goddess body you got rockin' the house?" he says, grinning that utterly Dean grin of his.

You bite your lip against a bubble of laughter. He's too fucking much sometimes.

Dean tugs you closer, until your hips fit snugly against his through his slacks. His tall, broad frame crowds you. His lips skim your cheek, then over your lips in a tease.

He squeezes the flesh of your hips, tender and sensuous.

Your heart flutters at the feeling.

"Mmm, I like you nice and soft," he murmurs against your cheek, close to your ear. "Feels that much better when I fuck you."

A small gasp gets trapped in your throat, while the gravel depths in his voice go straight to your pussy in a pulsing throb of warmth.

By the time he claims your lips in a devouring kiss, you're all too willing to let him peel your towel open, drop it to the floor, and guide you backwards onto the bed.

There he'll take his time, forging yet another mental map of every plush square inch of you.

Beau Arlen

Beau is a busy man. You understand that.

As Sheriff, his job demands a lot from him. He's also a father and has an ex-wife to contend with. (You knew that going in, and you've come to love Emily too.)

However, you can't help but start to take it personally when your sex life begins to suffer. He's often claimed being tired...but there's another suspicion that's been taking root in your mind, feeding your doubts and insecurities about how your boyfriend sees you, and about how you see yourself.

When you slip into bed at night, a kiss goodnight is all he gives you lately, before he's sighing deeply and closing his eyes, his soft snores soon filling the room.

One night, you try touching his shoulder, leaning in to kiss his bearded cheek. He hums at the pleasant feeling.

"You wanna...?" You trail the question in his ear, pressing more sweet kisses down his neck.

"Aw, sweetheart," he groans. "I'd like to, but I think I'd just smother you. I'm about to pass out."

You huff a laugh. You teasingly walk two fingers across his chest. "What if I make it easy for you?"

You shift onto your side. Resting a hand on his chest, you lean down to kiss him. He hums at the softness of it, but the more passion you try to imbue into each new kiss, Beau isn't as responsive as you would like. Eventually, you stop all together.

You frown, becoming disheartened. "You're not into this, I guess."

He opens his tired eyes, gazes up at you in apology. He opens his mouth to reply, but you beat him to it.

"You know it's been a month since we've had sex," you say.

Beau frowns, sliding a hand up your back. Only now does he notice, with appreciation, the familiar silky négligée you're wearing.

"Nah, that doesn't sound right," he says.

"Well, it is," you say. "I know you say you're tired, but I mean, you've had this job for as long as I've known you, Beau." Your eyes fall away from him. "So is the job, or...is it me?"

Beau's brows furrow. "Now wait a minute."

The mere thought dredges up what's been plaguing your mind recently, and it has your throat tightening. Tears of embarrassment and upset well up in your eyes, no matter how much you try to push it down.

You push away from him and turn away, crossing your arms. You try not to look at yourself in what used to be your favorite lingerie.

You can't stand the extra weight you've put on, mostly in your hips and ass, but in your middle and arms too.

You've gone through your own stress at work this year, with less and less time to try and take care of yourself, along with making sure Emily gets to and from school, cooking for the three of you, going to PTA meetings when Carla can't make it (since Beau often can't), and every other proverbial hat you wear.

Beau follows you, sitting up and laying a hand on your back. "Sweetheart--"

"I know I've put on a few. Hell, more than a few," you admit, hastily wiping under your eyes. "God, I can't even look at myself right now, let alone have you--"

"Hey. You stop right there," Beau says, more firmly. He gets you to turn around with his hand on your shoulder. He doesn't like the way you're curled in on yourself, as if hiding your body from his gaze.

That, and the sight of your tears damn well break his heart.

He cups the side of your face gently and presses a tender kiss to your forehead, followed closely by your lips.

You don't want to melt, but you just can't help it. You cling to the front of his shirt and lean into his kiss, like you've been lost in the desert, and his lips hold the breath of life.

You almost don't realize it when his arms slip around your waist. He earns a surprised yelp from you when he gathers you close against his chest and rolls you underneath him.

You land against the pillows in a huff. You stare up at his playful smile, his green eyes glinting with amusement, with fondness, and also with desire as they roam over your breasts, barely contained by dark green satin and lace.

"I've been neglecting you, haven't I?" he says. His voice is a low, earthy drawl as his gaze rakes over you. His big hand runs down your side and over your hip, then down your bare thigh, squeezing soft, tender flesh. He slips that hand under the satin night gown.

His hand can't span your entire thigh, but it's not for lack of trying. Your heart beats a staccato rhythm at the way he looks at you, your breath hitching when his thumb dips between your legs, brushing against the damp, silky fabric of your panties.

"It's not because I don't find you sexy as hell. Believe me, darlin', I do," he says. "You're so fuckin' beautiful, especially when you're all laid out for me here."

And he means what he says. You know it by the hardness you feel pressing against your hip. You slip your fingers into his hair with a sigh.

He bows his head to press kisses along your neck; down and down, he noses at the thin strap of your night gown. His path of kisses continue, and he indulges himself by dipping his tongue between the valley of your breasts.

"Filling out this lacy little thing so nice," he murmurs into your skin.

Your upset has turned to abject relief, but you still have to blink away the remaining urge to cry.

You let out a slightly tremulous breath.

"Oh, yeah?" you ask.

Beau pauses. He pulls away, just so he can look up and meet your eyes. He still finds insecurity in yours, so he meets you with a kiss filled with heat and intent.

He's now wide awake. He plans to take his sweet time taking you apart, inch by inch.

In fact, in the back of his mind, he also plans to do better about letting his deputies help him out more at the precint so he can have a better work-life balance.

(Because going a whole damn month without the taste of you is "no bueno," in his words.)

Soldier Boy (Ben)

The man may not be very patient, or particularly perceptive, but he's not an idiot.

At least, not about sex.

He knows that you've been feigning tiredness, and generally avoiding his touch.

What's strange is that you haven't been avoiding him. You still cook for him, still share conversation with him, still insist on having him spoon you on the couch while catching him up on the past four decades of TV shows and movies.

But when he begins to sneak a hand under your oversized shirt (an old one of Ben's), caressing your hip, then dipping down to your softer stomach on the way to your panties, breaking your concentration from the movie as unease laces down your spine.

You grab his wrist on reflex, instead lacing your fingers together.

"What's the matter now?" he asks.

You look over your shoulder at him and find him frowning at you, a divot between his brows. You don't manage to hold his gaze for long.

"Sorry," you say quietly. "I'm just, um, tired."

Ben doesn't believe you, and he's direct when he calls you out on it.

Reluctant to put what you've been feeling into words, you pause the movie and leave the couch (and him) behind.

Ben is annoyed enough to follow you (and underneath, he hides an edge of concern). The conflict leads into the bedroom, where you're still unwilling to open up.

He finally stops you from walking away from him, pinning you against the dresser by your hips. He practically looms over you as he demands an answer. He knows you're hiding something — something that's had you reluctant to let him touch you.

"Is there something you wanna tell me?" he says, a raw edge of warning in his tone. "What, are you fucking somebody else?"

Shock flashes in your eyes, making you angry. "What? No!"

"Well, you seem to be getting your fill somewhere, and it hasn't been from me--"

"Are you fucking serious? I'm not..." Your lips purse. You're actually hurt that he would hurl that accusation your way--and it couldn't be farther from the truth.

You tug your long shirt downwards and cross your arms, but it's more like you're hugging yourself, shielding your body away.

Ben's brows furrow a little bit more.

Eventually you get it out; you haven't been feeling up to being intimate because you're having a hard time even looking at yourself lately.

"I know I need to, um, get back in shape," you say, taking in a shaky breath to try and steady yourself. Your throat constricts, the beginnings of tears stinging your eyes. You want to look at anywhere but at Ben. "I just haven't had much time, with everything going on. But Annie gave me this guide on some different diets, like intermittent fasting, Keto--"

"Fasting," Ben intones. "What, you wanna fucking starve yourself? What the fuck is Keto?"

You sigh, barely resisting the urge to roll your eyes.

"No, not starve myself. And Keto's just..." The idea of trying to explain the new diet craze to your boyfriend is too daunting a task to consider. "Never mind. The point is, I have a plan. My hips, my thighs, my ass--"

Ben squeezes your hips at the mention of them. He happens to like the softness.

"Yeah, you've got a little extra. So fucking what?" he says, his voice deep and exacting as his gaze roams over your body. "Just gives me more to hold onto when I'm fucking you."

You utter a shocked laugh. "Ben!"

He grins lazily, and he turns you this way and that, admiring you from all angles. In his eyes, he doesn't find a side he doesn't like. You can't help but blush hotly under his gaze.

"Sweetheart, do whatever you want if it makes you feel good. But you don't need to starve yourself." His hands move to your ass, squeezing a bit harder on the plush flesh.

A yelp escapes you; he's pressing into you from the front as well, and you feel him heavy and already half-hard against you. You grab onto his arms for stability as your breaths quicken.

His attitude kind of surprises you, even though it soothes the frayed, insecure part of your soul that wants to be as beautiful and attractive in his eyes as he is in yours.

Ben is literally a super soldier. You're actually kind of jealous. The man can drug and booze hard and eat whatever the hell he wants, but his super metabolism just seems to absorb it into his washboard abs.

(The more you think about it, the more you want to smack him.)

Nothing about him isn't hard and lean, muscle and strength.

Only his hands have a measure of gentleless when they're holding you like this.

"I've just got so many stretch marks now," you begin to complain, in an emotional whisper.

He snorts. "And? You think it's anything I haven't seen? I'm not afraid of a little cellulite either."

At that, your head tilts in consideration. Butcher's Granny Fucker remark comes to mind. You bite your lip against a smirk.

Ben crooks a curled finger under your chin. He guides you to meet his eyes, before he lures you into a lusty kiss.

It's somewhat rough because of his beard, but you still smile afterwards, leaning against him now.

"Ain't nothing about you that I can't handle," he adds, all smirking and cocky. To prove his point, he hooks those strong hands behind your thighs and lifts you onto the dresser.

You gasp and cling to his shoulders. From there, he makes quick work of ridding the oversized shirt from your body, revealing you to the cool air and his hot gaze.

You take his face in your hands and bring him in for an even steamier kiss, your heart lighter and trembling with anticipation.

You've held yourself from him long enough, Ben thinks, and he has every intention of devouring you right on your old dresser -- before you two even get to the bed.

AN: 😮‍💨 I feel like each of these could've been even longer with their own one-shot loll. I wrote the Midnight Espresso-verse for Dean, partially to explore what his relationship would be like with a plus-sized reader. 💖💖

Let me know which one you liked most this time!

Join My Patreon 🌟 Get early access to new stories, bonus content, and first looks at upcoming stories, send me requests, and more!

Dean Winchester Imagines

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Beau Arlen Masterlist

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Dean, Beau + Soldier Boy Tag List (Part 1)

If you would like to get notified every time I post a story, feel free to follow my side blog @zepskieswrites with notifications on so you don't miss out. 💜

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @mostlymarvelgirl

@thebiggerbear @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @riteofpassage77

@deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @sanscas @mxltifxnd0m @suckitands33

@kaleldobrev @spnwoman @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @pieandmonsters @trashmoutth

@globetrotter28 @adoringanakin @midnightmadwoman @chevroletdean @tayl0rfanatic

@chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @spnfamily-j2 @everything-is-all-clear

@deansbbyx @sarahgracej @chernayawidow @mimaria420 @stoneyggirl2

@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @waywardxwords @waynes-multiverse @twinkleinadiamondsky

@my-stories-vault @kayleighwinchester @rizlowwritessortof @cookiechipdough @sixxteenbullets

@tmb510 @syrma-sensei @artemys-ackles @malindacath @mrsjenniferwinchester

#lovely review!! 😍#reader appreciation #lovely mutuals #headcanon: body insecurity and appreciation

378 notes · View notes

starkwlkr · 11 hours ago

Note

Not a request (at least, technically 🤭) but if you’d ever write something specific about Hugh and his wife sharing the screen in Deadpool and Wolverine, and their kid’s reactions, I’m absolutely down for that

i love you in every universe | hugh jackman

an: sorry for the long wait!! texas is freezing and i’ve been getting a bit sick :( but i hope you’re all doing well <3

New York

The Jackman kids were busy with their own lives, but when Olivia suggested a movie day, they all cleared their schedules for the rest of the day. Since you and the kids didn’t attend the world premiere of Deadpool and Wolverine and had yet to see it, your family decided it was a good idea to watch it together in the cinema.

As Olivia grabbed her popcorn tin that was handed to her, Reese and Alex tried their best at the claw machines in the small arcade. You were still deciding what type of candy to get while Hugh patiently waited.

“Look, peanut M&M’s, you love those.” Hugh pointed at the box of candy on display.

“Better grab two, Olivia always ends up stealing them from me.” You chuckle as Hugh does as he was told.

“I’m sad, they don’t have the wolverine popcorn bucket. I was hoping to use it for my Halloween candy this year,” Olivia joined the rest of her family, Reese and Alex had been unsuccessful in winning a prize. “It’s your head, can’t you call Kevin Feige and tell him to send me one?” Olivia poked Hugh’s arm.

“Sure.” Hugh playfully rolled his eyes and walked up to the counter to pay for his family’s snacks.

As he walked away, the kids began to whisper to you, asking if you were in the movie. And like always, they got nothing out of you.

“I’m not in this! I was literally at home with you guys!” You tried to tell them, but they weren’t convinced.

Once Hugh returned, your family made their way to the designated house and sat in their assigned seats. You always loved watching the previews so you made your family leave a couple minutes earlier than intended. After each preview, Olivia would say “I’m watching that” or “eh”.

There were a couple more people around you so when the lights dimmed, Alex made sure Olivia stopped talking.

For some reason, you were nervous and excited. This was the first time your family actually sat down together in the cinema and watched something you and Hugh worked on. The moment was too perfect, it was definitely a memory you never wanted to lose.

Olivia danced and bopped her head to the opening scene while Alex and Reese lightly laughed. You remember Hugh texting you something about a dance scene involving Deadpool.

As the film went on, you were excited to the reactions of your kids when your character showed up. It would be after Wade and Logan arrive to the cave and meet Elektra, Gambit, Laura and Blade. Your characters were from different teams, but that didn’t stop Deadpool/Ryan from making jokes about your real life marriage.

“Who brought us here?” Deadpool asked.

“That would be me.” A female voice said.

You and Hugh turned your heads to watch your kids’ reactions as Laura entered. Olivia was so happy to see Dafne back that she almost screamed of joy. The Spanish girl was like a sister to Olivia. Alex gasped as Laura revealed herself while Reese had the biggest smile on his face.

“Oh shit. Logan that’s her, that’s X-23,” Deadpool informed Wolverine. “She’s the one I told you about.”

Both Laura and Logan kept their gaze on each other. Olivia wiped a fake tear, whispering to her father that it was beautiful to see Laura back.

“Wait, is there by any chance a Mrs. Hugh Jackman back there?” Wade pointed to where Laura had just come out of.

“You have such a big mouth and irritating voice, red.”

The screen cut from Wade to your character, leaning against the doorway of the cave.

“Holy f—” Reese choked on his soda, popcorn tumbling from Alex’s lap.

“Mom?” Olivia whispered in disbelief.

“Oh my fucking mother of god,” Wade gasped at the sight of you. He slowly walked up to you and touched your face thinking you were a ghost or something from his imagination. You swatted his hand away immediately. “You’re real. Logan, it’s your wife!”

“I’m sorry? Who the fuck is Logan?” You asked.

“That grumpy old man back there, but this is huge for the social media edits! I can already picture them. Anyways, I’m assuming your three little ankle biters are running around somewhere,” Wade said in an Australian accent, looking around for your ‘children’. “Tell the mean one she owes me ten bucks.” He then turned to the camera and pointed at it. “You know what you did, you piece of-”

Olivia couldn’t help but burst out laughing. It had been years since she and Ryan made a bet and she had lost.

“Okay! Are you done?” You interrupted.

“No, but thanks for asking sweetie pie,” Wade patted your head. “This is an even bigger moment than the US government asking Steven Spielberg to direct the moon landing!”

Logan groaned. “Can you not do this right now?”

“No, I will absolutely do this right now,” Wade quipped. He turned back to you. “I mean, seriously, you and Logan? You’ve been dancing around each other for how many movies now? And Kevin Feige still hasn’t made it canon? Unbelievable!”

“He understands me!” Olivia whisper yelled. The small comment made the Jackman family laugh.

You sighed. “Please shut up.”

“You are being a negative Nancy! I’m giving the internet what they want!” He attempted to wink but couldn’t because he had his mask on. “I mean look at the tension, people! The chemistry! Forget will they, won’t they—they definitely already did. Three times!”

The kids laughed throughout the scene while you and your husband watched with smiles plastered on your faces. You couldn’t even remember why you were nervous in the first place. No matter what you did in your film career, the kids would love it.

#marvel actress!reader #hugh jackman blurb #hugh jackman x reader #hugh jackman one shot #hugh jackman fanfic #hugh jackman imagine #hugh jackman fanfiction #hugh jackman #actress!reader

83 notes · View notes

l0stglitch · 18 hours ago

Text

Platonic Yandere Hargreeves x Reader

Notes- This is more of an introduction to an au I’ve created rather than an actual fic. It’s pretty Klaus + Ben centred at the moment but I will write about the others in future fics.

Warnings- Substance abuse, Bad parenting, Depression, Suicide

Pre season 1

• They weren’t always obsessed with you. As children, you and your siblings had relatively normal relationships. Well, if you ignored the uncomfortable flirting between One and Three, or the estrangement of Seven.

• It wasn’t until Five’s disappearance that the family dynamics started shifting.

• The unity from before had been fractured, and the fragile illusion of a family gone.

• From there, things only worsened.

• You had always been closest to Klaus. It was only natural- you both found joy in bending the rules, and your powers proved to be quite useful when the two of you were up to no good.

• You could see the future. Unfortunately, not on demand. You could see your opponent’s next moves in a fight, or your father coming upstairs and catching you and Klaus in his study minutes before he appeared, but large-scale events far into the future were much more complicated.

• You’d see the distant future in dreams. Cryptic visions that made little sense until the morbid events finally happened. You had woken up screaming many times, forced to watch your siblings suffer gruesome injuries in missions yet to happen.

• Sometimes your father would make you meditate. Sit for hours at a time trying to trigger another vision. Occasionally it worked. Most of the time though, you saw nothing.

• The others had never blamed you for not stopping Five. You hadn’t seen the jump until he stood up and announced his decision. By then it was too late to stop him. Your brother had always been stubborn- you knew you didn’t stand a chance at changing his mind.

• You and Klaus grew closer after that- your childish rule breaking became more reckless. Nights were spent sneaking out and stealing. Getting high and drinking dangerous amounts of alcohol became a shameful hobby of yours.

• Everyone knew, but they were all too caught up in their own grief to worry about what the two of you were doing.

• Things seemed to be slowly improving, until tragedy struck again in 2006.

• This time though, things were different. Ben’s death was raw and painful, not just for him, but for everyone involved. Five may have chosen to disappear, but Six certainly didn’t choose to die.

• You had dreamt of that strange girl for months before the mission, but never told your siblings about her. Perhaps if you had seen Ben being killed moments after you would have said something, but that vision only came after he opened the container. Yet again, you were too late.

• The funeral was cold. Usually you would’ve loved the snow, but seeing it today filled you with an icy bitterness. It was as if the sky itself was mocking you, tainting your favourite weather with the devastating reality of your brother’s death.

• Reginald had placed the blame on all of you, but you knew your siblings didn’t see it that way. Luther, Diego and Allison developed a frosty attitude towards you, and Viktor… well he’d never really spoken to you much anyways.

• Only Klaus stayed with you through it all. Well, and Ben apparently. You couldn’t see your deceased brother, but Klaus supposedly could. Unfortunately, as the two of you fell deeper into your drug use, it became harder to tell whether he was talking to Ben or just hallucinating.

• Either way, he never told any of the others he could speak to Ben’s ghost, so neither did you.

• The two of you became inseparable. You decided you didn’t need the others anymore. Luther, Diego and Allison still took their roles as superheroes with grave seriousness, clinging onto that one constant in their ruined lives.

• You had come to the conclusion that you were no use to the team, despite Klaus’s best efforts to convince you otherwise. The visions never stopped, much to your dismay, and you didn’t know what you could do to alter the future. After all, what was the point in knowing what will happen if there was nothing you could do to stop it?

• Every night you dreamt the same thing. A funeral. Not snowy, like Ben’s, but instead with a dreary overcast sky and a blanket of wet, coppery leaves scattered across the ground.

• Five teenagers standing around a grave, their identities masked by the sleek curve of their black umbrellas.

• If only you could see the number carved into the gravestone.

• You woke up in a cold sweat without fail every morning. Klaus didn’t mind you coming into his room at 2am looking for comfort. He’d shift over in his bed to make space for you, bearing a patient smile despite the sleep that still nestled fresh in the corner of his eyes.

• You never told him what you saw, so he never asked.

• As weeks turned into months, your mental health only began deteriorating more and more.

• You hit your breaking point one afternoon during a heated encounter with Luther. He’d made a snide comment about your powers, vaguely alluding to you being the reason Ben had died.

• Your day had already been hard enough, so having to deal with shit from Luther sent you over the edge.

• It wasn’t like you to start a fight. You and Klaus tended to stay pretty neutral whenever an argument sprung up between the others. Perhaps that was why it came as such a shock to everyone when you punched your brother in the face with enough force to send shockwaves of pain through your knuckles.

• Luther only needed seconds to recover before retaliating.

• You managed to dodge his first few punches, using your powers to predict his moves. Unfortunately, you weren’t fast enough to avoid them all, and after being met with a fist to your stomach, it suddenly because all too easy for your brother to strike you.

• You could do nothing but feebly cry out for help as he released his anger out on you. In a sickening way it felt right- like this was supposed to happen.

• Luther deserved to release his buried grief, and you deserved to receive it. At least, that’s what you told yourself after as you lay silently on your bed, staring up at ceiling through the fuzzy darkness of the night.

• The others noticed how quiet you became. You hardly ate at mealtimes, and spent all your free time alone in your room, ignoring Klaus’s pleas for you to open up to him.

• Pogo and Grace could only watch as you retreated further and further into yourself, until you stopped joining missions altogether.

• Of course, Reginald was less than pleased by this. He sternly told you how much of a failure you were, but other than that, there was little else he could do.

• Yes, they could’ve forcefully dragged you along with them, but even then, there was no way of making you fight. If anything, you’d just be putting yourself and your siblings at risk.

• So they simply decided to watch passively as you withered away from the inside out, becoming a hollow shell of a person.

• Ironically, it wasn’t until you died that things eventually began to improve.

• Klaus found you in the bathroom at exactly 02:56 on a Tuesday morning. The half empty bottle of pills that rested in the palm of your cold hand told him all he needed to know.

• You had killed yourself- or at least tried to. He could still feel the soft beating of your heart under the frail skin of your neck.

• Klaus held you with an almost childish desperation, his screams for help piercing through the grave silence of the night.

• It was only seconds later that the rest of your siblings came scrambling into the bathroom.

• Diego was the first to act- shoving his way over to Klaus and pulling your delicate frame out of his brother’s trembling grip. The others watched in horrified silence as he began to perform CPR.

• Time seemed to slow down as they waited for Reginald to come. Alison had ran to wake him after seeing your condition, so now all they could do was wait. The only sounds that could be heard were Diego’s laboured breathing and Klaus’s chocked sobs.

• After what felt like hours, your father finally came to the bathroom. He said nothing to anyone, silently scooping you up and carrying you down the dark hallway.

• That was the last time they saw you.

• Two days later your father announced your death to the rest of your siblings, and a funeral was held.

• It was a rainy day towards the end of November- just as you had predicted. All five of your remaining siblings stood around your grave; protected from the rain by their glossy, black umbrellas.

• Life continued on at the umbrella academy. Your suicide marked the last of the tragedies, although no one ever truly recovered from the harrowing losses.

• It was only a matter of time until the academy officially disbanded. Despite your and Ben’s best efforts, Klaus’s dependence on drugs only worsened as he aged. It was hard watching your best friend struggle through life, ignoring your pleas for him to try and get some help.

• Becoming a ghost seemed to have some strange side effects. The first was the biting cold that came from within. No matter how warm the environment was around you, you could never warm yourself up. The second was even more perplexing. You didn’t age. You would’ve chalked it up to being a result of your death being when you were 16, but Ben wasn’t stuck as a teenager. He also wasn’t constantly shivering from the cold.

• Klaus jokingly suggested that it was because you were ‘young at heart’. You couldn’t disagree more. After Five’s disappearance, it felt as though all of your childish innocence had been stripped away from you. Not to say you weren’t content with your existence as a ghost, but sometimes you missed being able to interact with the world around you.

• Ben made it all bearable. He was your only source of human contact, so you found yourself becoming clingier than before. Physical touch had never really been your thing, but now it was all you thought about. Ben didn’t mind the constant affection you showed, as he was just as touch-starved as you were.

• The years went on, and the three of you trudged through Klaus’s messy life together.

• No matter how many times you begged him to reach out to the rest of the family, your brother never listened. It was as if being dead made you less credible in his eyes. Klaus didn’t want your advice, he just wanted your presence.

• You saw the others once, when Allison married Patrick. It was bittersweet seeing them as adults for the first time and wondering how different things could have been if you just hadn’t taken those fucking pills.

• The wedding was over far too soon. You had hoped that seeing each other again would bring the family closer, but it quickly became clear that none of them had any interest in entering back into each others lives.

• So you had to watch as Allison returned to her glamorous life as a celebrity whilst Klaus dragged you and Ben back to his grimy, drug filled motel room.

• You resented him for never trying to sort out his life, but there wasn’t anything you could say to him. Any mention of his wasted potential and Klaus was quick to remind you of how you had killed yourself. He didn’t mean to upset you, but it still stung. It stung far worse than the punches Luther had thrown at you after Ben died.

• It wasn’t until the shocking news of Reginald’s death that you could see them all again.

• Klaus was less than impressed by the thought of having to return to the mansion. It took a lot of convincing from you and Ben before he finally agreed to attend the funeral- even if only to shut you both up.

• After a particularly long taxi ride, the three of you finally reached your destination.

• Save for Viktor, you were the last to arrive. Klaus claimed it was his intention to be ‘fashionably late’, but you knew he wasn’t going to be fooling anyone.

• You found yourself in Reginald’s study, watching Klaus as he rummaged through your father’s possessions. Ben tried convincing him to just leave it, but his protests fell on deaf ears.

• “You just gotta loosen up a bit Benny-boo,” He’d replied breezily, “Me and Y/n used to pull all kinds of stunts like this when we were kids! You were always a good lookout, with your mind tricks and all that.” He’d added, motioning to where you were leant up against the wall, watching quietly.

• Ben just rolled his eyes playfully before shooting you a small smile, “Those were the good old days huh?”

• Klaus snorted, “What are you talking about? We’re still in the good old days. Us three- we’re like the three musketeers!”

• You just shrugged indifferently, “Yeah- if two of the musketeers were dead.”

• “God, what’s got you in such a sour mood? You’d think we were at a funeral or something- oh wait, we are!” He cracked up laughing, as if that was the funniest joke in the world. Perhaps it was to him- he was high as fuck.

• When Allison finally got round to checking Reginald’s study, you made no effort to warn Klaus as she crept up on him. As far as you were concerned, you owed your brother absolutely nothing. He was still refusing to tell the others of your and Ben’s presence, so it was safe to say you were more than a little pissed off at him.

• Watching him nearly jump out of his skin brought a small smile to your face, but it soon disappeared when the topic of conversation shifted to rehab. As per usual, your brother shamelessly lied about everything that had been going on and made no mention of you and Ben.

• The meeting with Allison was short lived, as Luther soon entered and ordered Klaus to leave. Of course, with Klaus being Klaus, he managed to steal a fancy looking box on the way out.

• “Do you even know what’s in that thing?” You huffed, traipsing behind him. Your brother brought the object up to his lips and gave it a theatrical kiss, “Nope!” He replied, popping the ‘P’ in an almost childish manner.

• You frowned, “So why bother stealing it? Surely you’ll get a decent amount of money from dad’s inheritance.”

• “Oh come on! Don’t start feeling sorry for that old man. He was a rotten piece of shit- we deserve this for all the pain he put us through.” Klaus almost sounded annoyed, as if he was offended by your consideration of Reginald.

• It surprised you a little how much your comment seemed to have ruffled him. “I hate him as much as you do. All I’m saying is that this stupid box might not even be worth the time- ‘specially if you’re just gonna blow all the cash on drugs again.”

• Klaus sighed dramatically, feigning upset, “Oh my dear number eight, I am offended that you would suggest that I would do something like that. Especially after what I told Allison!”

• You smiled in amusement, “Y’know, you could try and start afresh after this. Start renting out a cheap apartment. Live off dad’s money for a while whilst you look for a job- a real job. You don’t need to steal all his crap.”

•Klaus merely shrugged, “I could, but where’s the fun in that? And besides, I know if you were alive going through all the same shit as me you’d be the same.”

• You sighed, he had a good point. The two of you were birds of a feather. There was no doubt that if you hadn’t died, you would’ve ended up the same, if not worse than your brother.

• Ben cleared his throat, “We haven’t seen Diego or Viktor in years, why don’t we go talk to them instead of standing here arguing about Klaus’s kleptomania.”

• Klaus smiled, “Kleptomania, huh? That’s a big word.” You rolled your eyes, “Just ’cause you’re feeling antisocial, doesn’t mean we shouldn’t be able to see our siblings.”

• Your brother turned around to face you and spread out his arms, as if offering you something, “By all means, go ahead and find them. Who am I to stop you?”

• You glared at him in silence until he finally cracked, “Alright, fine!” He groaned in exasperation, “Which one of our dear siblings did you want to speak to first?”

• The three of you ended up going to find Diego. You’d gained a soft spot for him after finding out he had been the first to try and resuscitate you the night you had died.

• The conversation between your two brothers was painful to watch. Klaus mostly ignored you and Ben, preferring to ramble about random shit that Diego clearly didn’t care about. You wanted to strangle him.

• Eventually (much to everyone’s relief) Allison came in to inform Diego and Klaus of the meeting going on in the living area. You couldn’t help but notice the way her brows seemed slightly furrowed, as if something was worrying her.

• Apart from Klaus, everyone was seated around the oak coffee table. You and Ben left him to pour himself a drink at the bar whilst Luther began the meeting. You found it slightly difficult to concentrate with the sound of glass clinking behind you, but thankfully Klaus quickly joined you, flippantly asking about refreshments. He shot you a grin as he spoke, clearly trying to lighten your mood.

• Luther looked puzzled, “What? No, there won’t be refreshments. And put that out, you know dad didn’t allow smoking in here.”

• Klaus ignored him and sat down on the couch next to Viktor. “Well the big guy’s still pretty uptight huh,” He commented, glancing over at the empty space you were occupying.

• Luther huffed, “Listen up. There’s still some important things we need to discuss, all right?”

• You frowned, not having a single clue as to what this meeting was about. Luckily Diego was wondering the same thing. “Like what?”

• Luther turned to him, “Like the way he died.”

• “I don’t understand. I thought they said it was a heart attack.” Viktor returned. You had almost forgotten he was there beside Klaus, remaining silent up until that point.

• “Yeah- according to the coroner.”

• “Well wouldn’t they know?”

• “Theoretically…” You audibly groaned at that, earning confused glances from Ben and Klaus.

• “He’s making this way more complicated than it needs to be.” You grumbled, “Klaus, please for the love of god tell Luther to stop turning everything into such a big deal.” Your brother shook his head as a clear ‘no’ before taking a pull from his cigarette.

• “Last time I spoke to dad he sounded strange.”

• Thankfully, you weren’t the only one who thought Luther was grasping at straws. Diego was quick to interject.

• “Luther, he was a paranoid, bitter old man who was starting to lose what was left of his marbles.”

• Luther immediately shook his head, “No, he must have known something was going to happen. He’s been hiding something from us.”

• “That’s not exactly breaking news,” Diego interrupted with a not-so-subtle eye roll.

• You could tell Luther was getting irritated by this point. It put you on edge. Conflict always made you nervous, especially when Luther was involved. “Me and Allison found blueprints for a human sized freezer underneath the basement. We tried taking the elevator down but that level needs a key to access.”

• Klaus suddenly perked up, “I don’t know if this is related, but I did find a key in dad’s desk earlier.” He shrugged, “Didn’t look all that important though so I didn’t say anything.”

• You frowned, he hadn’t told you or Ben.

• From the other side of the table, Allison took a step closer. “Klaus, we need that key. There might be something inside that freezer.”

• Your brother nodded, fishing around in his pockets, “Yeah, yeah of course. Just give me a second..” He yanked his hand out, brandishing a remarkably ordinary looking key. “Ah ha! There it is. You think this is the right one?” Luther took the key from him and studied it for a moment, “Well there’s only one way to find out.”

• Within mere seconds, all of your siblings had deserted their positions in the living room and were making their way to the elevator.

• It was a little cramped inside, even with you and Ben not taking up any space. You found that your spirit was half phasing through some of your siblings, as they left no gaps big enough for you occupy.

• Luther was the one to put the key into the hole, slowly twisting as the others watched in anticipation. A light in the keypad flashed green, before the whole box shuddered and began slowly descending.

• It took a while for you to reach the level, and with no one speaking, the seconds seemed to drag on even longer. When the elevator doors finally slid open, no one moved.

• The space before you seemed to be a corridor, stretching ahead before ending with a heavy looking iron door. Diego was first to step out, leading the others to the end of the space. He rested a hand on the handle and turned around for confirmation.

• “Are you sure we wanna know what’s in there?” He murmured, suddenly feeling apprehensive about entering.

• “It’s too late to turn back now. We need to know what’s in that room, Diego,” Allison replied firmly, taking a step closer. He nodded with a sigh and pushed open the door. You hesitated, allowing your siblings to enter before you.

• In the centre of the room there was a large, grey cylinder next to a table holding a computer. Diego peered down at it, “I’m guessing this controls it.”

• Viktor ran a hand along the side, “Guys, there’s a button here. I think it might unlock the machine.”

• Ben’s hand came down to rest on your shoulder, making you flinch at the unexpected contact. “You ok? You haven’t said much,” He asked, voice laced with concern. You just shrugged and replied, “There’s nothing for me to say that hasn’t already been said by someone else.”

• “You think we’ll find a body in there?” He asked quietly. You laughed dryly, “What, you think Reginald killed someone and hid their body in a fancy freezer?” Ben didn’t share your amusement, “It’s clearly some kind of cryogenic freezer. What else would he have been using it for?”

• “I guess we’re about to find out.” You replied, watching as Luther helped Viktor open the heavy metal door.

• Icy cold steam came gushing out, momentarily concealing the shape that lay within. You took a cautious step closer, trying to get a clearer view of it. There was definitely some kind of body in there- and a small one at that.

• You turned to Ben, “Holy shit. If that’s some dead kid I might puke.” Your brother rolled his eyes in turn, and opened his mouth to reply, but the words seemed to catch in his throat.

• “Y/n?” Your head whipped around at the sound of your name. It had been years since you had heard anyone other than Ben or Klaus mention you, so hearing Viktor’s voice caught you off guard.

• He wasn’t looking at you though. You followed the direction of Viktor’s gaze down to the freezer and inhaled sharply at the sight. It was you. The same child who had died in 2006, lying there perfectly preserved. Your skin was unusually pale- almost dull, but not entirely corpse-like.

• Diego cautiously put his hand on your shoulder, and you noticed a faint warmth in the same spot on your spirit. “Is she alive?”

• Klaus took a protective step closer to your body and shook his head. “No guys, she’s dead. She-” He hesitated, locking eyes with you before turning back to Diego, “I know she’s dead, alright. If she were alive, she wouldn’t still look sixteen. Diego ignored him and ran his hand across your shoulder and over to your pulse point. A violent shiver racked through you, earning a questioning glance from Ben. “Are you ok?” He murmured, rubbing your back.

• “I- I can feel him touching my physical body.” You watched as Diego stopped moving and held two fingers in place. The whole room fell silent as everyone waited in anticipation to hear what he had to say.

• “She’s alive.”

• Klaus locked eyes with you, “That’s not possible. I’ve spoken to her ghost, that can’t be-”

• Allison cut him off, “What do you mean you’ve spoken to her?” Her voice was sharp and accusatory.

• “I can speak to ghosts Allison!” Klaus replied in exasperation, “That includes our sister.” From beside him, Luther frowned. “Wait. You’ve been in contact with Y/n this whole time and haven’t bothered to say anything?”

• Diego sighed in frustration, “Will you guys stop arguing for five fucking minutes. We need to try and wake her up.” You stiffened slightly, suddenly hit by a surge of apprehension. Were you even ready to wake up? It had been years since you’d actually spoken to your siblings. Memories of their past cruelty after Ben’s death came flooding back to you.

• “Hey, you’ll be ok. Klaus will look after you.” You looked up and saw Ben offering you a reassuring smile. Before you could open your mouth to reply, a wave of disorientation hit, and in an instant the world around you was black.

• For a moment everything was quiet, save for a faint ringing in your ears. Your body felt heavier than before, and cold too. Though this sensation was different to the faint chill you had grown accustomed to. This was more of a biting frost that gnawed at your extremities.

• With great effort, you forced your eyes open. It took a moment for you to adjust to the fluorescent lighting over your head, but soon the faces of your siblings

• You suddenly became aware of a hand touching your cheek. Following the arm it belonged to, you realised it was Klaus. His dark eyes stared down intensely into yours, as if he hadn’t seen you in years.

• “How are you not dead?”

• Your lips parted, but no sound escaped. Memories of old books Reginald had made you read came to the forefront of your mind, but your throat was too sore to produce any intelligible words. He had made you study astral projection a long time ago, but you hadn’t given the topic much thought since. Perhaps your father knew more about your powers than he was letting on.

• Allison’s face drifted into your view, distracting you from your thoughts. She shot Klaus a stern look before looking back down at you, “We can worry about that later. For now let’s get you warmed up.”

• Your sister pulled you out from the freezer and held your shivering form close. Klaus noticed your chattering teeth and draped his jacket over your shoulders.

• Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Luther shift, “So… should we still go ahead with the funeral?” Your siblings exchanged hesitant glances, unsure of how to proceed, when you were suddenly hit with a vision. It was only a brief flash of something. A storm, a glowing blue light, and then finally, a face you never thought you’d see again.

• The moment had been so brief that none of your siblings realised anything had happened. It was Klaus who recognised that familiar haunted expression on your face, pulling you away from Allison and holding onto your shoulders with a concerned frown. “What did you see?”

• You just shook your head slowly, “It’s not possible.”

• Klaus gently squeezed your shoulders, “You know I’ll always believe you, Y/n. I’ll have your back no matter what.” His brown eyes stared deeply into yours, with a level of intensity that you rarely saw in him anymore. “Just tell me what you saw.”

• They wouldn’t believe you- hell, you hardly believed it yourself. Yet there was no denying what you had seen. What was going to happen. You took a deep breath and turned to face the rest of your siblings, whose sole attention was on you.

• “We need to go outside. Five is coming back.”

This took wayyy longer to write than I thought it would. This is an introduction to an au idea I’ve had in my head for a long time, hence why it’s pretty disjointed.

Also I know none of the characters exhibit much ‘yandere behaviour’ in this. I will build up to it in future works (which will include Five!!) 🙏

#the umbrella academy #tua #the umbrella academy x reader #yandere #platonic #platonic yandere #Yandere Hargreeves x reader #yandere umbrella academy x reader

42 notes · View notes