#god colouring is always a pain in the ass

[spinachjuice]

[jinkiezzsstuff]

In Season

alastor x doe! femreader

no but really this is actually so depraved and smutty i cannot believe myself i hope yall enjoy the feast xx

Summary: You were aquatinted with hell for quite some time and you quickly learned as much as you could about mating season to protect yourself from other deer sinners. Although you came across the hotel and neither you nor Alastor could resist each other, and your instincts.

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, female anatomy- no pronouns, no descriptions of bodytype/skin colour/hair type, heavy breeding kink, female masturbation briefly, penetration, squirting, creampie, horrorish aspects predator n prey, ‘in heat’ trope, OOC alastor bc y’know sex, general vulgarity, brief mention of blood, swearing, not proofread, LEMME KNOW WHAT I MISSED

Word count: 5K

You’ve been in Hell several years, and at first it was a little jarring. Especially since you now had hooves, a tail, a black scent-sensitive nose, and soft floppy ears. Honestly it was amusing getting used to your new body while dodging sinners hungry for new meat, you reminisced on your first days of hell often, as they were the most exciting.

But now you were more aware, you’d spent a majority of your time in hell assessing and attempting to understand the whole eternal damnation thing- after all you weren’t much of a believer in hell when alive. You kept atop all the sinners that were of note, the different sectors of the pentagram, the overlords as well as their strengths and weaknesses that coincides with their demonic form, you also paid close attention to all the rings of hell and their sins. You’d even grown interested in the hellbors and imps, never imagining how birth and life things that was supposed to be god's gift, ended up breeding in such a foul place like hell.

Most demons spawned into hell with some sort of form be it an object like a television, a prop like a doll, a toy such as a jack in the box, or more commonly an animal. Most humans found themselves attached to animals anyways which made sense as to why many showed up as one, as well as why it wasn't surprising to see many dogs and cats as a common form in hell. During your investigative research, you ran into a few.. hurdles.

Bucks, mating seasons. It seemed like all animal life here was cursed with some sort of violent mating season. Where all that sinners could think about doing was mating. Bucks had been your biggest issue in hell, you found it pretty simple to ignore mating seasons, focusing your mind anywhere but the burning in your pelvis, but the bucks would storm around looking for the smell of the doe near them.

It’s a pain in the ass and you always had your calendars marked, alarms and reminders set, as to not forget that mating season was coming and you needed to take precautions.

Besides the chase the bucks would give you every year, you had it pretty easy in hell, you published on a blog your findings marketing it to new sinners in hell, kind of like a guide to hell, and that kept your bills paid and your mind occupied.

~

Walking down the road in the pentagram city with the intentions of snapping some pictures of some of the expected violence in hell, you gazed along the different brick walls and shops, shopping with your eye at times. You came by yet another brick wall, this one littered with taped up signs, your paced slowed as your eyes rapidly moved across the words on different pages.

There were varying signs, one for resale value drugs, IMP immediate murder professionals, and Charlie Morningstars Hazbin Hotel. Pausing your stride you went up to the wall getting a closer look at the shitty drawn piece of paper, there was several different… characters, on it very poorly drawn. You recognize Charlie’s name of course, you’d often see her roaming around the pride ring actually, unlike her father who you never saw.

Pulling out your phone you snapped a picture of the sign and decided to take a trip down to that side of the pentagram to check out this hotel. It’s definitely quite the story to be told that’s for sure.

You made left, rights, had to take cover for thirty minutes while some sinners duked it out shooting up a whole block, then you tried to hail down a cab- failed and trudged for the longest time to the hotel. It was so much further than you anticipated but everytime you felt like turning back you told yourself you were almost there which got you to the door of the hotel, by the end of the day however.

Knocking on the giant doors you didn’t know whether to walk in like you would a hotel, or wait for a guide. Tapping your fingers against your thighs you’re suddenly hit with strong arousal that clawed suddenly at your abdomen.

Bringing your phone up from your pocket you checked the date, you knew the season was changing and autumn was here but you didn’t have any issues with buck recently so you didn’t really have to worry. You did confirm mating season was in progress, with the conformations laying within the calendar, but it shouldn’t have been a problem, unless there is a buck inside the hotel.

Suddenly the door flew open and you were pulled away from your contemplation by a high pitched, giddy voice tugging your attention toward it. “Oh my gosh, hi! I’m Charlie! Come in! Are you here for the hotel!” The blonde rambled quickly, tugging you in by your wrist.

The hotel was weirdly homey, you could tell that there were different personalities that occupied the space, different colours of reds decorated, random items littered around the room like stiletto boots by the door, a large pile of needles in a corner, the bar seemed to be its own aesthetic design. It was comfortably warm and smelt like an active fireplace, as well as something so strong and musky it made your legs inadvertently clench.

You attempt to hold your instincts inside but this wasn’t like any other buck you’ve smelt before- it made you ravenous. Pulling yourself together while Charlie spoke about the hotel you pondered what you’d say, you could exactly be like, is there a male buck here because i’m horny as fuck.

No. Smiling to Charlie tiredly, you finally ready yourself to give her the explanation. “This place really is lovely, I didn’t actually come to be a patron but maybe write something about it for the little blog thing i have.” You felt jittering and lightheaded as you spoke, your eyes scanning the room and ears pulled back. “Uhm would it be okay to stay for a night?”

Charlie perked up clasping her hands together nodding eagerly. “Of course to both~!” She sang out happily. “I am so glad some people are interested! Who knows, maybe after a day you’ll wanna stay!” She exclaimed, twirling around happily.

You smiled at her optimism and you were genuinely happy that the princess of hell was such a breath of fresh air in the smog filled hell you all lived in. “Do you want me to show you around? Meet our staff and guests?” Charlie asked, a glimmer of hope and excitement sparkling in her eye. You took a brief moment to ponder before nodding your head. “I think that would be perfect, then though would i be able to rest, the walk fucked my hooves.” You say tapping the tip of your booted hoof against the floor.

Interlocking your elbows Charlie nodded, dragging you toward the bar. “Of course you can, I'll end our tour with your room, but let me begin it with Husk! Our loyal bartender!” Walking toward the bar you’d spotted early on, the cat demon turned his head ever so slightly toward you. “Hi,” The alcoholic said flatly, Charlie laughed nervously, but you didn’t really mind his demeanour you preferred short and to the point.

“Hey Husk, nice to meet you.” The cat grunted at you, and gave you a sorta glare. “Another deer. Course it fuckin is.” Husk muttered to himself bitterly, Charlie scolded him under her breath, before turning to you with a grin and a shrug of the shoulders. “He’s sweet once ya get to know him. Heh, anyways c’mon lets meet Angel!”

After about thirty minutes of running around you met all but one of the members residing within the hotel. As you skipped around the hotel you entirely forgot about the low grade heat buzzing between your legs, you were used to it after all, and you enjoyed yourself a lot, confessing to Charlie that you particularly enjoyed the rambunctious Nifty and flirty Angel.

“Alright, the last person of note is one of the most important. He’s been assisting in the hotel basically since the start, half of it wouldn’t be possible without him.” Charlie explained walking up to a door, on it had two different do not disturb signs. A large wood one nailed right on the door, and a second hanging off the handle.

Charlie picked the sign from its hanging position humming while examining it. “He’s never had these before.” She muttered, voice filled with confusion, however you were lost in a daze. This was the smell you could pick up down stairs, he must’ve been a buck, there wasn’t any other way.

The scent was pungent, nearly knocking you off your heels with arousal, it was musky, something only described as sweaty and primal. The natural hormones of the demon beyond the door were unlike anything you’ve experienced before; it was like he was a starved man, hungrier than ever and more than ready to breed.

It was dirty and you felt embarrassed at the reaction you were having, typically you had a low hum and no real desire to attempt to have sex with one of the many deer demons who came after you so this was a bit of a new experience. And it was nearly painful, you don’t even know the guy and yet it felt like you were being consumed by him.

“Hm, wait here I’ll go ask Nifty! She normally knows the most,” Charlie drifted off tilting her head at you. “You okay there?” She asked nervously, you promptly nod at that, inwardly cursing yourself for not being more controlled. “Yeah,” You quickly clear your throat trying to play off the lust filled tone for a dry throat. “Yes,” You say with more conviction. “Sorry it’s been a long day. Before you head off, would this guy happen to also be a deer?”

Charlie grinned super wide, purely whites on display. “He is! Best for last! I think you two will be happy to have each other haha,” She chuckled a little awkwardly, brushing her hair behind her ear. She shook her head, swiftly bidding you ado and walking off to find Nifty.

You waited a moment listening for anything down the halls, but you didn’t hear anything anywhere, and you couldn’t see anybody around, nor could you see cameras hidden in the corner. Walls crashing down, heart rate naturally kicking up; you unbuttoned your pants, spreading your legs and slipping your hand down your pants.

You whimpered at the contact of your cold fingers to your clit, feeling the sticky sensation of arousal cover the bit of thigh that your underwear didn’t touch. You soaked yourself just by the smell of the deer on the other side of the door. You slipped your middle finger and ring finger down, coating your fingers entirely before slipping them into you, curling them as you did.

You inhaled deeply resting your free arm against the door above your head for you to lean forward on, you didn’t have the intentions of fucking your self in the hall, but one thrust turned into three. Now you’re dripping, gasping for air and trying to keep yourself quiet when all you wanted to do was collapse and beg whoever occupied the other side of the door to please fuck the neediness out of you.

As you quickened your pace, your body quivered from the uncomfortable position, but you halted everything when you heard the unmistakable sound of a radio on the other side of the door. It was a gritty sound, garbled with no real sound coming out of it, just strange static. You tried to catch your breath as you listened closely, checking your left and right speedily ro assure you were still alone.

Suddenly the doorknob shifted the door falling open under your weight. Your legs stuttered attempting to catch your body, hand whipping out from inside you, slick and sticky with your arousal as if you were some whore. Unfortunately you weren’t able to catch yourself fast enough but lessened the brunt of the fall with your knees before your hands came down to finish. You were still in a blitzed out haze, but the room was pitch black, the only sound that could be heard was an ambient sound of nature and the faintest sound of the radio.

The only light that you were blessed with was the hall light from the opened door behind you. You could barely make out deer heads hung on the wall and a red couch before the door snapped shut leaving you alone in the darkness.

You whimpered, clenching your legs and your teeth, you could still hear the radio but it sounded like it was seriously messed up, switching stations, pitches and incorporating sounds you’d never heard from a radio, like growls and deep rumblings.

Your fear mixed with desire and the smell of lust was far more palpable in this room. It was so much harder to ignore the scent and the smell of the buck who was definitely worked up in this room. “What a depraved little doe you are.” You jumped at the voice, nothing like you expected. He sounded wicked, dark, and surprisingly, hornier than you.

You could now hear him in the room with you, his deep pants, the footsteps around, you swear you could’ve heard him accidentally hit his antler against something as well, it was like he just materialised. “What’re you doing out of bed so late? You do know how filthy bucks can be this time of year, don’t you.”

You yelped as two bright red eyes appeared just a few feet in front of you, either this guy was crouched or contorted as you never stood from the floor. As his eyes got closer to you, his being consumed you entirely, as it dawned on you that he was crawling toward you like a goddamn animal.

“Sorry.” You meekly whimpered, tilting your head back ever so slightly, neck on display for him. He let out a baritone chuckle, shocking you slightly, before he replaced that shock with a new-by pouncing on top of you.

He brought his face closer to yours, the crazily dialed eyes of his illuminating your face enough for him to properly see and observe your face. You however only got brief glimpses of a strained yellow smile, and messy red hair that stuck to his face from sweat. You could feel his body heat against you making your own body feel hotter by the second, his right hand sat above your head, his other grabbed ahold of the wrist that moments ago was deep inside you.

One of his knees sat outside of your body by your thigh, while the other knee occupied the inner thigh too close to your core for comfort, or perhaps not close enough. All you knew is this deer was one of the horniest you’ve ever come across, his breath was erratic chest heaving, breath tickling your face and neck, his eyes were blown and obviously a firey red bright enough to add a horror-esque ambience.

You could feel the strain he had against his suit pants, it was hard not to when in the position he took he was straddling one of your thighs. He gripped your hand harder bringing it up to his face, your heart pounding in your ribcage as you watched motionlessly.

He groaned at the sight of your still wet fingers, his smile stretching just slightly as his eyes momentarily closed. Then his mouth opened, as did his eyes, teasingly he opened his mouth bringing your fingers up to him, before he took a hold with his mouth swirling his long tongue around your digits. You whined, closing your eyes at the feeling, the way he did it was not just in an attempt to be pornographic but to properly taste you, coating his taste buds with your arousal. Pulling his mouth away with an exasperated groan, he dragged his sharp teeth along your flesh, leaving tiny cuts that exuded just enough blood to satiate his desire.

He pulled himself away properly, saliva stringing as he did. You peaked your eyes open, as suddenly a feeling of being sucked into the floor consumed you and you felt like screaming. Though it all happened too fast that you weren’t able to squeak anything out; the floor sucked you in and within seconds spit you out. Gently your body bounced against soft velvet comforters on what you assumed was a bed- his bed. Still surrounded by only the blackened room, the buck nowhere you could see, you sat there heart pounding, bewildered, scared and horny, a unique combination to be fair.

“Tell me, my dear doe. When was the last time you gave into such, primal desires?” The man’s voice appeared before he did, sliding up beside you from the shadows. “Never.” You whisper looking into his deepened red eyes. “I am so sorry. I avoid bucks, I came for business- I didn’t- god i’m sorry i couldn’t help myself- you fuckin,” You threw your head back groaning in frustration, feeling embarrassed to admit you were just about willing to do anything he said if it meant he spread you out and bred you.

He chuckled demonically, his hand sticking out to you. “Alastor, sweetheart, pleasure to meet you, quite, the pleasure.” Alastor’s radio voice lowered and he purred to you so sultry that you clenched your thighs together. Grasping his larger clawed hand that he had stuck out, you shook him tightly enjoying the warmth and contact. “YN, pleasure to meet you too.”

Gently pulling his hand away, Alastor inched his way closer to you, leaning over he placed his hand on the other side of your torso seemingly trying to resume the position he held on the floor. “I could smell you enter the hotel, you know. I keep myself away every season and no other passer by, has been an issue. So what is it that you’ve done my dear,” Alastor questioned accusingly while dragging a claw up your neck and getting back to being on top of you.

Alastor felt like he couldn’t help himself, he felt a yearning for sex he’d not felt ever, sure there’s been the occasional session with his hand on a particularly trying mating season, but never real feral need like this. He wanted to leave his mark on you, and keep all those other foul deer demons that may attempt to take their claim on you in the future.

Growling radio admission and static echoed throughout the room, Alastor promptly closed the inches between your bodies, gently collapsing on top of you. Alastor dragged his tongue up your neck from your collar to your jaw line, ending his travel with an opened mouth kiss. You whimpered at the sensation of his body against you clutching his shirt, as he nipped at your neck with his sharp teeth drawing blood.

His thigh was pressed against your core with the way he leant down on you, and you wondered if he could feel how you were pulsing desperately begging him to fill you. Against your will you jerked up grinding yourself into him, causing him to groan at the own pleasure he got from the friction. Alastor then pulled away entirely looking down at you, then a gentle red light flickered on, then another, and finally a third, lighting the room up with a reddish glow.

You weren’t focused on how, or where the light came from, but rather the man in front of you. You had no clue it was Alastor, as in thee overlord Alastor, although you should’ve put it together based on all the radio feedback that sounded from out of him. Of course you knew of him from your research but he’d been gone when you came down so you easily forgot him.

Alastor was dishevelled, without a suit coat, just a button up and his suit pants, his hair was a mess as you briefly saw before, but man oh man did he look a wreck. He was sweaty, his antlers were out on full display, his eyes lidded.

“I had no idea you were a deer.” You say eyeing him up and down, he chuckled at that. “So you know of me?” The question, you might almost say, sounded uncertain, perhaps before with the lights off lended the two of you a comfortable anonymity that you don’t have anymore. Nodding your head you can’t help but attempt to gain some friction between your legs. “Darling if you truly want this as much as I, then I'd be more than happy to satiate the hunger for both of us- so long as we see to a date and several others after. I wouldn’t be able to stand seeing you with another deer after me.”

Although this formal speech was out of place for your current predicament you looked past it because you wouldn’t mind this being more than a one time hook up. “Of course, I hate one night stands.” Smiling at him, his smile softened compared to its harsher one before. Alastor moved in, this time you were able to watch him in the dim light, leaning back fully and off your elbows, you got comfortable on the soft pillow that kept you somewhat propped up.

You wanted your hands free to touch him, and hold him. When his face was inches from you, lips barely touching, your hands came up to play with his hair. You go cautiously hearing rumours about the distaste he has for contact he doesn’t initiate, however the moment your hands connect to his hot neck, he moans, pushing himself down to connect to your lips.

He smiled through, as you expected him to, but it was the best kiss you’ve ever had, purely based on how intense he was once he finally got a taste of you. You just barely opened your mouth before his tongue was escaping his mouth to explore yours, it was a searing kiss one that was unique to anything before. His body once again lowered as he relaxed on top of you, most of his weight rested on you, which you loved the feeling of it was like he was encasing you with him.

You could feel the stiff hard on that ached to be freed, and his uneven breaths that expanded his chest further into yours, like a tide your chests pushed and pulled each other in and out. It was erotic, and as your make out session dragged on the messier it got, teeth scraping tongues fighting, saliva glistening on the perimeter of both of your mouths. Your hands dug into his hair occasionally touching his long antlers that were out, and everytime you did he’d moan statically into your mouth.

Alastor cared little about his poise and instead chased his own pleasure as his mouth entangled with yours, you were receptive and as needy as he was, so he felt no shame when he started to hump himself against your core. He took even more pleasure in hearing you whine for more, bucking up into him. You buttons were still undone from earlier which made him feel a sense of anger he couldn’t explain, he wanted to be the one to make you come undone, he wish he could’ve gotten to you before you fucked yourself against his door.

So with a new goal in the demons mind, he snaked his arm in between your bodies, him needing to lift himself a bit to do so, and snuck his hand down you pants straight to your soaking wet core. Gasping at the contact you jerked up into his hand, his fingers sliding down the length of you leaving no area untouched.

“Impatient?” Alastor mocked pulling away finally, although he was in no place to, as even the simplest word came out jagged and out of breath. “Alastor please,” You begged unable to stop the way you jerked up into the warmth of his hand.

With contemplative hum Alastor halted all movement making you groan. It was unbearable to put up with, perhaps the foreplay of it all would be more enjoyable if it wasn’t such a painful lust you were in. Snapping his fingers, cool washed over your body like freezer air, and soon you realized you were left bare.

You jumped curling into yourself afraid of being so suddenly exposed. Looking up you were surprised to find the overlord himself nude with you, the comforter that once laid flat underneath you now pulled up behind him. Leaning forward blanket following in suit behind him, you simply stared at him, the markings on his body, the fact he had two tone skin, and of course the more obvious aspect of his body, the fact he was hung.

Covering the two of you under the safety of the blanket, Alastor pulled your legs apart gently, body slotting back where it’s supposed to be in between your legs. “You’re devine torture my dear. Attempting to be somewhat gentlemenly in a state like this, when you’re so desperate, is absolute torture.” Alastor grit out, his static gone as he struggled against the animalistic urge to dive into you.

Breathing out a breath you had no clue you were holding, you begged him pressing your body up into his. Thoughtlessly you reached down between you two, wrapping your legs around his torso to nudge him closer, and slowly you wrapped your fingers around him making him almost robotically crackle.

Giving him a few awkward strokes, due to your position, you guided him towards your entrance that needed no prep, with how you pulsed aching, and dripped greedily you weren’t too worried about pain.

Alastor barely took your guidance, as once you stroked him a twig snapped, when you lined him up to your entrance, he jerked forward plunging into you rather harshly causing your body to jolt. A heat shot through your body crawling down your pelvis straight to your toes, while your jaw hung open, unable to make the noise. Alastors radio was popping and crackling as he fucked into you, grinding his body against your own, he was pouring himself into you as fast as he could and for him it still wasn’t fast enough.

Meanwhile you were still attempting to catch up, your brain hazily lagging behind as your body jerked along with every thrust. You could feel yourself dripping down the length of him, the wet slapping of skin was just more indication you were practically a faucet. Reaching upward to grab onto his neck, it was your turn to growl viciously, loving the way his eyes and smile looked in this fucked out haze.

Grinning at him you tilted your head back, eyes closed at the insane pace Alastor was attempting. “Fuck Al, just like that please don’t fuckin stop,” You moan spreading your legs further apart so your clit was more exposed to his flesh that came slapping down.

One of his hands grasped your neck lightly squeezing, you clenched in tandem with his choking, absolutely loving the feeling of him having you at his mercy. “Who knew such a sweet face would be so, filthy.” Alastor said through a toothy smile his radio voice was gone only leaving his strained raw vocals.

You let out wails of pleasure as he fucked you into the mattress, before you roughly pulled Alastors head down forcing him to give you a kiss. Your tongues met before your lips did as neither of you were going in for gentle but rather a greedy taste of one another.

Alastor moaned and whimpered more when kissing you seemingly without hesitation, making you feel closer to the edge then before. Arching your body up you clawed Alastors back begging him, tears threatening to spill and the feeling of need. “Please Alastor, please fuck- so good it’s gonna- i’m gonna cum- Al don’t stop,” You cried loudly stumbling over what you wanted to say as you felt hot all over.

Above you Alastor could barely hold on, his forehead rested against you as you cried, wailing for him to fuck you begging for him to make you cum, and he knew from how you cried for him, ge was gonna. He also knew he wasn’t far himself feeling as you clenched and leaked all over the bed, it was disgusting and he loved it. Your skin stuck to his as his body came crashing down on yours legs too shaky to hold him himself up, but his pace didn’t let up all that much still forcing himself deep into you, marking every inch of you.

You screamed, clawing his back wrapping your arms around him as you convulsed. You whined about how it was so good how hard you were coming but it got mixed up in his mind as he focused on the violent gushes of liquid that rushed out of you. It seemed your orgasm kept being pulled out as you continued to gush around him making him bellow out his own praises of how good you felt, how glad he was you were coming on his cock and making a wet mess of his bed.

Alastor was ravenous as he used your cunt to milk him of everything he had trying hard to get himself as deep as possible in you. Meanwhile you continued to moan and whine at him your orgasm still pushing on gushes is liquid squirting out of you as your sentive mating body wanted more, wanted to be bred and was ready to hold out to do so.

And bred it was, Alastor bit onto you as he came, loving the feeling of filling you to the brim, it wasn’t anything he’d done or felt before. You groaned, smiling wickedly and you hungrily kissed up his neck pulling his ear with your teeth, whispering to him about how badly you wanted to be filled with his cum, eyes rolling back as he stilled in you finally.

Your body ceased a bit before his movement ceased, It was all insanely animalistic. Now as Alastor laid on top of you, still inside you, you felt the post nut clarity truly hit you. You were still in a lustful haze, however you’d never been that much with a man, nevermind one you haven’t properly met. Although you didn’t mind, as you dragged your fingers through his sweaty hair you reminded yourself he wanted to see you more, not just use you.

Taking a deep breath, Alastor enjoyed the smell of your skin and the doe pheromones you naturally let off. In the back of his mind twisted questions that he couldn’t bother trying to answer. His head laid under your chin, face between your breasts dazed and staring off into space. You cautiously traced your fingers up his ears, his antlers fell in size back to little sticks. His ears twitched but he made no remark as you gently played with them.

“Do you regret it?” You broke the silence with the nasty feeling of worry in your gut, worry that you messed up, worried you both made a mistake. Alastor let out a long hum, his radio frequencies back in action as he did. “No dear not at all. Lust or not I was certain about my decision. I had the strength to hold back when I heard you on the other side of the door but I didn’t want to.” Alastor admits still a little coy is his delivery.

Although he did a very good job at assuring you because any doubt you had vanished. It was a vulnerable time for the both of you, during mating season, that having the knowledge that he still could’ve kept control, kept himself on the other side of the door but instead choose to claim you, yeah made your heart and mind content.

[themultifanshipper]

Max stormed through the halls of the ER, fuming at the stupidity of his teammate.

He was going to fucking kill Checo.

Warnings: driver!reader, smut, PinV sex, injury, mention of strong ass medication, public sex?, sex in a hospital bed what more do you want from me

The door of your room slamming open startled you as Max walked in with a scowl.

"Jesus Max calm down-“

“No, I am not going to calm down!” he yelled. “That idiot put you in the fucking hospital and caused two other people to crash. I'm going to kill him when I see him!”

You closed your eyes and sighed.

You didn't have any broken bones, thank god, but your entire body was covered in deep bruising.

It was extremely painful and they'd given you some very strong painkillers and a plethora of other medication that hadn’t quite kicked in yet, so you weren’t really in the mood for Max's yelling.

He noticed your pained expression and immediately calmed down, coming to sit on the edge of the bed and took your hand in his.

“I'm sorry schat, I'm just so angry… How bad is it?” he asked, voice wavering.

“Nothing broken, but I don't think I'll be able to make it to dinner” you joked weakly.

He whined and lay his head on your shoulder and you winced, so he pulled back and stroked your thigh tenderly.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry… Is there anywhere I can touch you where it doesn't hurt?”

You smirked, mind in the gutter, as usual “You always know where to touch me to make me feel good, Max…”

Max's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“Go on baby, touch me wherever and I'll tell you if it hurts or not”

You wiggled your eyebrows suggestively and Max tried to swallow, his mouth was suddenly very dry.

Perhaps whatever they'd given you was finally starting to kick in.

And evidently, it wasn't just getting rid of the pain, it was making you insanely horny. Like… abnormal levels of horny. You hadn’t realized when you were alone, but the sight of Max in front of you was getting you very hot and bothered.

“Come on Max, touch me, I need it so bad…”

Your hand slowly slid up his denim covered thigh and his mouth opened and closed like a fish.

“Baby we can't” he gasped and got a hold of your wrist just before you got to the crotch of his jeans “We're in a hospital and you're badly injured…”

You were giving him your best (albeit a bit droopy) puppy dog eyes.

“And you are on drugs, my love”

You tried to sit up but your whole body protested so you stayed down, tugging at his shirt and pawing at his thick thighs.

“Please Max, fuck it's been so long, I need you inside me now”

It really had been a while. Between the races, your respective factory business was in entirely different countries, so you rarely had time to indulge in anything more than quickies and facetime debauchery.

Max was rapidly crumbling under your heated gaze (and your goddamn paws touching every bit of him you could reach) and his resolve didn't last long as he started going through ways to make this possible.

With every passing moment, your pain was decreasing and the heat between your legs was only getting worse as you whined at him to make you feel good.

He slowly stripped himself of his clothes and climbed over you, careful to avoid putting any weight on you.

As your body was uncovered bit by bit, he felt the anger come back, and then a wave of nausea took over.

There was barely any unblemished skin on your body, most of it coloured in various shades of yellow, purple and blue bruising.

He spread your legs and kneeled between them, running his fingers up the inside of your thighs and stopped just short of where you were almost dripping onto the sheets.

“Jesus baby, you really need me, huh?”

You whimpered pathetically and grabbed his hand to press it against you and rut against it desperately just for some relief.

The sight of you writhing and whimpering under him was overwhelming, and it didn't take long for him to line himself up and start pushing into you slowly.

Every time was like the first time with Max.

He held you in his arms, making sure you were okay as he split you open, burying inside you tight heat that seemed to be molded just for him.

You were drowsy from the painkillers but you felt every inch, every vein caress your walls as he dragged his cock in and out of you desperately.

His head dropped to the crook of your neck and you threaded your fingers through his hair while his hips rolled against yours in a slow rhythm, almost maddeningly so.

He went so deep, bumping your cervix on every slide in, and you let out low moans every time, matching his growls. You tugged harder on his hair while he nipped gently at your neck, cautious of where the seatbelt had bruised it.

His back muscles rippled under your touch and your eyes rolled back, the euphoria soon washing over your body in waves.

As soon as you started clenching around him, Max knew he was a goner. He'd missed the feeling so much, he quickly filled you up, shooting rope after rope deep inside you.

Once he was done, he rolled to the side so that he could lie down next to you but keep you in his arms as you stayed tangled together, sharing a passionate kiss.

“Fuck baby, I love you so much” you said, nails scratching at his scalp while he pressed kisses to your skin.

He buried his face in the crook of your neck, making sure to not put any weight on you in the process. “I love you too schat, you have no idea how scared I was, seeing them cart you off in in an ambulance while I was stuck in the paddock doing fucking interviews…”

You hummed, fingers drawing patterns over his skin. “I’m here now, Max. And I’ll be fine.”

Max looked up at you with a smile.

“I know… but I’m still going to fucking kill Checo”

[loving-barnes]

LOGAN HOWLETT - FIX YOU

A/N: Guys, it's happening! It's here! Old man Logan story for you! I don't know if you'll like it. This is what I always imagined after seeing "Logan" movie. I am a sucker for happy endings, I guess. Let me know what you think. I tried my best.

Pairing: Old man Logan Howlett x Mutant! female reader

Warning: angst, some fluff, nudity, extremely light smut

Words: 6800+

Important notes: Hugh Jackman!Wolverine | Inaccurate information from the movie. I just wanted to write my own thing, so just be aware of that.

FULL MASTERLIST | LOGAN HOWLETT MASTERLIST

LOGAN HOWLETT - FIX YOU (OLD MAN LOGAN) 

Shitty year. Shitty life. The only thing that eased the pain and his thoughts was the booze. He was able to get drunk. Fucking finally. No one stopped him from the liquid poison. Why would they? No one was alive. Everyone was dead, under the daisies. Sniffing them with their skeletons. All thanks to Charles. Now, that old senile fuck wouldn’t die no matter what. Fucking telepath. 

Logan threw another empty bottle on the dusty ground, snarling as he limped back to the driver’s seat of the limo. His phone had been ringing for some time now. It meant another job for him. He took a minute to collect himself to look at the notification. He hoped to call it a day. That dream died sooner than his appetite for alcohol.

One passenger, long ass drive around El Paso. Fucking rich people that don’t know what to do with their money, he thought. Last night, he drove a bunch of drunk chicks from a bachelorette party, showing him their tits. At least some fun, nice round things to look at. Tonight, it wouldn’t be as entertaining.

Touching the screen, he accepted the offer and put the phone into a holder. His eyes found another empty bottle on the passenger’s seat. Logan threw it out the window. He drove off the side road and headed to pick up the next customer. He hoped it would be someone calm. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with drunks and skanks. 

God he wished the day would end soon -  well, night. He was tired, hungry and was already in need of booze to ease his mind and pain. This life sucked. Ever since Charles managed to kill everyone over a year ago, living in this world has been a nightmare. Instinctively, he patted the spot on his jacket where he carried an adamantium bullet. Logan kept it with him, to end his life once he felt like it wasn’t worth living anymore. 

When he came to the pick-up spot, he frowned. There was one person, as expected. He pictured a guy standing there, like the one he drove to a hotel a week ago. This was a woman. She was dressed in all black, with a big black hat and massive sunglasses. Snobby girl using daddy’s money, he thought. Besides, who the fuck wears sunglasses in the evening?

Logan was ready to leave the limo and open the door for her. However, the woman was faster. She got inside on her own. At least she was capable of doing that. 

He drove away, heading to… wait, where were they headed? He grabbed his phone to look at the final destination. There was none. He noticed a note: Please drive around the city. Fuck, he wasn’t going to do that. He wanted to go back home. 

Logan rolled down the partition, mouth open to ask the question. But he was met with the woman sitting right behind him as if she was waiting for him to address her. Something inside told him to be careful. Goose bumps ran through his devastated body. 

“Where to, miss?” was all he asked. 

Her head turned to the side. Logan noticed the shape of her lips covered in crimson-red lipstick. To him, they reminded him of someone. His mind went instantly back to the days when everyone was alive. There was one person he missed the most. She used to wear a colour like that on her lips. God, he hated thinking about her. It was too painful.

“Just keep driving,” the woman replied. 

That voice. Holy fuck, how sweet and familiar it was. The booze was playing tricks on him, he was sure of it. No, she was dead. Everyone was dead. Charles killed almost all X-men with his seizure-inducted psychic attack. 

He took a deep breath to calm down. When a familiar scent hit his nostrils, he squinted at the woman. What the fuck was this? This was just some mind game of his brain. “That’s not how things work, miss.” 

She chuckled and took off her sunglasses. When her eyes met his, Logan jumped on the brakes and the limo halted abruptly. One hand rested on the steering wheel while the rest of his body turned around to look better into her face. What the fuck was happening?

“Hey, Logan,” the woman said his name. It sounded like the most beautiful melody that hit his ears.

“Y/N?” he whispered her name. 

The cars behind them started to honk aggressively. The limo was in their way, slowing the traffic down. It wasn’t wise to stand in the middle of the street. Logan cursed and started to drive again, his eyes watching Y/N through the rear-view mirror like a hawk. He feared that one blink later she’d be gone. 

He drove them to a silent street, where he knew they’d be alone, without anyone snooping around. The shock was replaced by anger and betrayal. How the fuck was she alive after everything that happened? 

Logan parked the car, his body turned back to face her. She should be glad there was the fucking partition separating them. His emotions were running wild. He’d be able to grab her by the neck and choke the truth out of her. “Fucking sing, right now woman. How the fuck are you alive?” 

“You sure this is safe?” she pointed at the outside. 

“Fuck, talk!” he raised his voice at her. “You’re supposed to be dead. How the fuck are you alive? Explain yourself before I do something I’ll regret for the rest of my miserable life.” Logan was fuming. It was like a wicked mind game. 

“I don’t know.”

He laughed. What a pathetic reply. “I should believe that?” 

Huffing, she moved to the door and stepped out of the limo. Logan got out a second later, limping towards her as fast as he could. With a painful grunt, he took the claws out of his right hand and grabbed her by the top of her long jacket. He pressed her against the vehicle. 

Y/N’s eyes locked with his. There wasn’t a hint of fear inside her. She remained calm. She expected this reaction, the distrust. Anyone would react this way. 

Her breathing was slow, even. “I can explain everything.” 

“You have one fucking minute,” he snarled.

“I’m gonna need more than that,” she said. 

He cursed under his nose. Logan let her go and stepped back to breathe. He was spiralling. Was this happening? This was a hallucination, he was sure of it. None of it was real. “Fuck, fuck! I mourned you. You’re supposed to be fucking dead like the rest of them!” He coughed.

It was painful to see him like this. One year could do a lot of damage - physical and mental. The man she once knew was broken and bruised. Carefully, her hand lifted to his face. She pressed the palm on his grey-brown beard-covered cheek. “Logan,” she said his name. “I’m so sorry for everything that happened.” 

“Shut up.” 

“So many lost, dead because of what Charles’s power did,” she continued. “I’m really sorry about this.”

As she was about to retract her hand, he grabbed her with his left one and pressed his lips on top of it. He inhaled her scent, felt the soft skin with his lips. Logan needed to be sure she was real and not just a figment of his imagination. “How?” he grunted. “How is this possible? I mourned you, Y/N,” he repeated.

She nodded, understanding. “There is a lot to discuss,” she said. “We need to go somewhere where we can talk. That’s why I wanted you to drive around. Standing here, where anyone can see us is dangerous.” 

Logan let her go. He huffed and wiped his face with a hand. The claws on the right hand were long gone. “Get in the car,” he ordered. “I know a place.”

She didn’t have to be told twice. Y/N sat on the passenger’s seat and Logan drove them away. Both of them made sure there weren’t any suspicious vehicles following them. El Paso was a big city, lightened up with many lights like Vegas. The city woke up for the night as the temperatures got acceptable to humans. 

“Is anyone else alive?” Logan asked after a while. His voice got softer. He was able to process the initial shock.

“No,” she shook her head. “Everyone’s dead. I should have been dead too.” 

“How come you are not?” 

She took a deep breath, collecting her thoughts. “I think my mutation saved me. It got enhanced with Charles’s psychic attack, or what the hell that was. My mutation was always a protective one. I believe it helped me survive and regenerate. As if that whole situation unlocked something new inside me.” 

“Shit,” he gasped. “Is that even possible?”

She shrugged. “I recall something that Charles taught back at the school. High-stress situations can unlock mutant powers. Usually, it happens to teens and children. But, it’s not rare for mutant adults to have their mutation enhanced by stress, which can potentially bring out more powers.” 

Y/N reached into her boot and took out a pocket knife. As Logan stopped the limo at the red light, she showed him her forearm. “Look.” With one precise move, she cut her skin. Some blood dripped down her arm and onto her clothes. Next, it was sealed with a white light. The skin was nice and clean as if she never cut herself. 

Shit, she could regenerate now. It made sense she survived. “Damn. That didn’t happen before,” Logan commented. He thought back to the days when they were at the mutant school. She could get hurt like anyone else. Bleed like any mortal. “Just… tell me why did you decide to show up now? Why not when you woke up after that incident?” 

Logan drove them to the parking lot inside a building. It was big enough for the limo to fit through the driveway. Once he parked on the second level, he turned the gas off. 

“I didn’t know where you were or who was left alive,” she said. 

“A year, Y/N,” he glared at her. Logan’s eyes were red. He had bags under them, signalling the lack of sleep, the tiredness. “What the hell were you doing during that time?” 

The silence inside the car got heavy. This was a question she knew he’d ask. It was time to tell him everything that happened. 

Y/N turned her body to face him. Her eyes found his shaky hands. “I remember… the pain. A lot of it. My head was about to explode. There was a ringing sound in my ears. The ground was shaking. I could see our friends, the students, on the ground, yelling and gasping for air.

Then it was followed by darkness. When I woke up, I was in a morgue. There were so many of us, lying on cold tables. I was the only one alive. They were all dead.” She took a deep breath, trying to steady her voice. “I went through all the tables, saw all the dead faces of our friends and family.” 

Her voice broke. It was too painful to talk about what she went through when she woke up. How fast the world changed. Her hands trembled. “I went through all bodies,” she sobbed. “I saw all the lifeless faces. I cried my eyes out and mourned them. In the end, I realised two people were missing - you and Charles.” 

Logan’s expression softened. He was consumed by his anger and confusion. She came back to his life when he thought she was dead. He should consider it a blessing. A light came back into his dark life. Now, he learnt that her second chance at life was a complete disaster. Pain and death. 

“It took me some time to start again, trust the people around me. Afterwards, I started to look for you. I knew, deep inside, that you were alive somewhere. I made a plan, created a safe place for us once I’d find you. It took me half a year to get an intel that you were alive, here in El Paso.” 

Logan’s hand reached her face and wiped away the tears that ran down her cheeks. After all this time, he still had a soft spot for her. He always did. 

“It wasn’t easy to get here,” she continued. “Luckily, I had people from the past who owed me a couple of favours. I collected information about you. It was easy to discover you got Charles with you. I got intel about his state or how you’ve been trying to get meds for him. When possible, I’d arrange for extra medication for him.”

Logan sighed. “That was you?” 

She nodded. “Yeah. It wasn’t always possible. I tried my best to help you while I prepared for the whole plan I made.” 

He huffed. “Shit, I appreciate it, darlin’.” 

Y/N smiled at him. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get here sooner. I’m sorry I couldn’t…” 

“That’s okay-”

She grabbed his hand. Her fingers trailed the scars on it. They hid under the sleeves of his black jacket. “Do you… Do you know what’s happening to you?” she had to ask. “I can see you’ve changed, Logan.” 

“I’m an old man now,” he said. “I’m in constant pain, healing slowly but not fully. It’s clear I finally have my expiration date. I’ve been alive for almost 200 years. I’ve been through a lot of shit, good and bad.” 

“So,” she cleared her throat. “You feel like it’s your time to go?”

“I didn’t have a reason to live,” Logan admitted. He couldn’t look at her. His eyes were locked on the front window, watching the outside. “The X-men dead, no school, no mutants. I ended up taking care of Charles, who doesn’t want to die,” he grunted, frustrated. He smashed his hands against the steering wheel. 

Logan left the car abruptly. He needed to breathe, to move around and calm down. Charles once gave him a second chance at life. He welcomed him into the mutant school. Now, Logan wanted him to finally die. It was too much responsibility. And he was exhausted.

Y/N appeared before him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Logan,” she whispered his name. Her mouth opened to say some reassuring words when he pressed her against the limo. His big hands grabbed her by her face and pressed his lips to hers. 

It’s been a year since he last kissed her. She used to be his anchor, the love of his life. It got destroyed when everyone died - when he thought she died. And now, being here with her a year later, the need was back. Their lips moved in sync in a hungry kiss filled with sorrow. His tongue demanded entrance for further exploration. 

Y/N grabbed him by the white button-up. She missed his kisses, his touch. However, it felt different. The time apart made it feel a bit foreign and sad. Her heart wanted to explode.

Logan pushed away, breathing heavily. “Sorry,” he sighed. “I shouldn’t have done that.” 

“It’s okay,” Y/N quickly found his shoulders. “It’s been a fucked up year.” 

He pulled her into his arms, hiding her in a tight embrace. “With you here, back in my life, it changes everything,” he admitted. 

There was a short silence before Y/N told him something he didn’t know. “I know what’s happening to you, Logan.” 

They looked at each other. His brow lifted. “What?” His arms remained on her waist.

“It’s the adamantium,” she said. “It’s poisoning you, slowing down your healing factor and killing you.” 

“How do you know?”

She told him the story of how her trusted friend from the past was able to get to Logan’s blood sample from the time when he agreed to get the adamantium. They ran some tests and even got their hands on some of his bloody clothes from a few months back when he got shot by some men in a parking lot.

“With his help, we were able to do a full analysis and figure out that the adamantium would attack your cells more with time. It’s a toxic substance released from the metal that is killing you from the inside. It’s a whole complex situation. But,” she sighed, “he was able to figure it all out.” 

He huffed. “Well, there you go, darlin’. My time is running out. Fast.”

“What if…” she whispered. “What if there was a way to heal you? Would you want that?” 

This time, they parted away to have a better look at each other. “That’s a difficult one, Y/N. I know things won’t be the same as they were a year ago.”

The sadness appeared in her eyes and he noticed. “Oh…”

“I know things are so fucked up. No more mutants are being born. If there are any left, which I highly doubt, they are all hiding.” 

“You,” she started. “You wouldn’t want me back?” Y/N had to ask. She needed to know to move on. After everything, her heart belonged to him. 

Logan closed his eyes and thought about his reply. “I will want you until the day I die. And that’s the thing. My days are coming to an end. Look what happened to me. I’m an old fuck, who could be your fucking grandfather now.” 

“I still love you,” she said looking away. “I don’t care about any of it. You are my Logan. The one who protected me, helped me grow and made me a better person. Fuck, there was always a gigantic age gap between us. Do you think, just because you have grey hair and scars, will make me love you less?” 

Logan shook his head in disbelief. “I always knew you were too good for me. Even now, you’ve been helping me while I had no idea you were alive. Shit. Such an angel in disguise.” 

Y/N swallowed hard. A lump formed in her throat. “I have an antidote for you,” she blurted out. “If you want it. If you want a better life… with me.” She knew damn well how selfish and stupid it sounded. 

“Antidote?” 

She nodded. “I know, it’s crazy. I know you have no reason to trust me after being separated for a year, while you believed I was dead.” Her hands started to shake. The desperation was evident. She wanted him, needed him back in her life. “It’s up to you, Logan. I have it. If you want it.” 

His phone started to ring. Logan’s eyes moved to the car, seeing the phone still in the holder vibrating. It had to be Caliban. “Shit, I need to head back home.” 

Y/N’s heart dropped. Was this the end of it all? He didn’t want the antidote. He didn’t want her or another chance at life. “I understand.” 

Logan reached for her hand. “You are coming with me, darlin’. We are not done with this conversation. I am not fucking done with you.” He brought the hand to his lips and kissed it. “Get in the car.” 

“Logan-”

“No,” he shook his head. “You’re coming with me. Don’t you dare jump to conclusions, Y/N. We have a lot to discuss. And believe me, I’m not fucking letting you go.” 

A warm smile appeared on her face. “Okay.”

“I just fucking hope you don’t have to leave now.”

“No,” she smiled at him. “I’m staying. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll keep you safe, I swear on my life. I’ll get you out of here. Like I said, I already have a plan.” 

Logan helped her get inside the vehicle. He drove them out of El Paso to a place he now called home. It wasn’t much, but it was a place where they could hide and survive. It was located near the US/Mexican borders, in the middle of a dusty nowhere. 

Y/N watched his face the whole drive. She could see how he squinted, frowned out of nowhere. The smile that was on his face turned into a painful scowl. He was in pain. It was a moment like this when she wished she could heal other people with a simple touch. That’s not how her mutation worked. 

When they arrived at an old abandoned smelting plant, the air was warm. Dust and dry land hit her nostrils once she got out of the limo. 

“One more thing,” Logan said and coughed. “We have another mutant here. His name is Caliban.” 

She frowned at him. Everyone knew Caliban. “If I were you, I’d kill him for what he had done in the past. Fucker used to help Transigen for a long time, tracking mutants for them. You were too kind to take him in.”

Logan huffed. He reached his hand towards her. She approached him, taking his hand into his. He got her inside the rusty old building. Together, they walked into a section that could be called ‘the kitchen’. 

Y/N’s eyes wandered around, seeing all the empty bottles of alcohol. Old long rags hung from the walls. It was like a workroom. The smell of steel and ore. At least this was a safe place where they could sleep and eat. 

“Logan?” Y/N turned to the sound to meet Caliban. She noticed how his eyes widened when they landed on her. “Shit, you are alive.” 

“So are you,” she glared at him. 

He took a sniff, frowning. “If I had known you’re alive, I’d have smelt you. I would have known about your presence. Something is different about you. I can’t smell the mutation on you.” 

“Maybe it’s your own mutation weakening,” she growled at him. 

“Mind your own fucking business,” Logan glared at Caliban. 

“Don’t you find it odd that she’s alive?” he raised his voice, finger pointing at the woman. “How is that fucking possible? How come she doesn’t smell like one of us?” 

She crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t have to explain myself to you, Caliban. Also, I don’t care if you don’t trust me, because I certainly don’t trust you.” 

Logan’s lips turned into a smirk. He took off his black jacket and threw it on the wooden table. He rolled up the sleeves of his white button-up. There were scars over his forearms, even old bullet wounds that didn’t properly heal. He could feel her eyes on them. 

“Come on, darlin’. I’ll take you to see Charles.” 

Y/N made a face while looking at the albino mutant. With Logan, they left the kitchen area and headed to the back door. He took her into a different section of the lot, through a crooked door. The inside of the space was dark until Logan turned on a small light. 

A movement came out of an old bed. “Who’s there?” Charles’s voice echoed around. 

“I brought you, someone,” said Logan. “Someone you know very well. It might lift your spirits.” 

Y/N had to smile when she heard Logan’s softer, calmer voice. Her hand gently brushed against his lower back when she walked closer to the old man. Her legs stopped at the edge of the bed where she saw a very old Charles Xavier with white longer hair and a stubble. 

“Professor,” her voice was a mere whisper. 

His eyes found her, eyeing her face and hair to the clothes and hands. He lost his breath for a moment. As if a ghost was standing in front of him. “Y/N?” he gasped. “Is that you?” 

She nodded, smiling. “Yeah, Professor. It’s me.” 

“How?”

Her lips opened, ready to tell him to read her mind. She immediately halted. Y/N knew his powers were not what they used to be. “My mutation saved me,” she gave him the simplest answer. “It evolved, like you taught us back at the school.” 

Professor’s eyes moved from her to the man standing in the back. “You did at least something right,” he said to Logan. “You became such a disappointment. At least this-” 

Y/N’s eyes widened in shock. “Professor,” she scolded him. She never imagined these words escaping Professor’s lips. 

She turned to Logan. He had a plastic case in his hands. Then he handed two pills to Charles. “Take them, now,” he said gruffly. “Come on.”

Charles did as told, swallowing the pills and sticking out his tongue at Logan like a child. 

“We’ll let you rest,” Y/N said, smiling weakly at the old man. “I’ll see you again tomorrow.” 

“You are staying?” he asked. He received a simple nod from her and it made him smile. 

Logan brought her to a room with one bed. There were several empty bottles of liquor, cigar butts and other shit. It was spacious, smelled like alcohol, cigars and Logan. This was all he had. At least some privacy, a place to sleep. Those days of living in luxury were long gone. 

He turned on the light. It was yellow, illuminating the place enough for them to see. “You can take the bed,” he said, breaking her thoughtfulness. 

Y/N glared at them. “And where will you sleep?” 

He opened and closed his mouth. There were many options, including the damn limo. But he wished to sleep next to her like they used to before as a couple. Logan huffed. 

“You know, you look very handsome in those formal clothes,” she said. “Sexy, dare I say.” 

“Those were the days when I was,” he scoffed. “Now, I’m basically a fossil.” 

Y/N slowly took off her long jacket. She put her hand into her pocket, feeling the glass vial. Her hand let loose and draped the piece of clothing over a chair - or something that looked like it. The hat was long forgotten in the back seats of the limo. Then, she approached him, carefully resting her hands on his chest. When he didn’t move, she gently unbuttoned the white shirt for him. 

“Y/N,” he sighed her name. 

“Will you let me do this?” she asked, her voice soft and sweet. “Will you let me show you, that in my eyes you are still the handsome man I still love?” 

She helped him take off the button-up and let it fall on the dirty ground. “Fuck,” his breath hitched. “Darlin’.” 

Her hands moved up, gently stroking the skin on his neck until she reached his bearded face. “The beard suits you. Miss the mutton chops, though,” the left side of her lips curled up. 

Logan couldn’t resist. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her lips. One, two and then his tongue asked permission to enter to which she obliged. His big hands slid down her back to her ass, taking a handful of it. “I missed you,” he admitted between the kisses. 

“Missed you too,” she nodded. When their lips disconnected, she grabbed him by the white tank top he wore and dragged it out of his pants. Y/N helped him get rid of it. She could sense the hesitation from him. 

Once it was off, her hands gently stroked his hard chest. Her fingers delicately brushed all the scars that littered his still muscular body. The regeneration was barely working. There was a day-old wound. Someone fucking shot him a day ago and the wasn’t there to protect him. Without thinking, Y/N pressed her lips on his left pectoral, right above his nipple and a scar he had there. 

“Why are you doing this?”

Her hands slipped to the belt of his pants. “To show you that I love you the way you are,” she admitted. “That I want you no matter what.” 

Logan stopped her by grabbing her wrists and pressing them back to his chest. He didn’t let her go. “I don’t deserve you.” 

“I…” she closed her eyes and pressed her ear against his beating heart. The sound soothed her. It was a sign he was here and alive. “I want to show you, that I do want you whether you are old or young. I want you to know, that even if you don’t want the antidote, I’m here with you until…” her voice broke. The thought of him dying was terrifying. 

“The antidote,” he sighed. Honestly, he forgot about it. The conversation before was short.

“It’s okay if you don’t want it…”

Logan helped her sit on the bed. Their knees touched. His big hands held her smaller ones. He remained close to her. “I need you to tell me more about it. All I know is that you have it and it has to do something with the adamantium poisoning my body.” 

“All I know is this: The antidote will stop the poisoning and stop the dying process. A friend of mine was able to make a new element that successfully fought the molecules of the adamantium. Many outcomes may happen once you take the antidote. There is only a 1% chance of side effects. Hell, even less than that.” 

“What are some of the outcomes?” he asked. 

“Either it’ll only cure you and stop the ageing and dying process. Or the regenerating factor will kick in and heal the scars and wounds littering your body,” she named a few. 

Logan shook his head. “So, no matter what, I’ll be stuck in this old body.” He winced when a wave of pain hit his body. His hand reached for the first bottle he found, drinking the alcohol like a lemonade. 

“Sexy old body,” she grinned at him. “Would it matter?” she raised her brows. “You’ll be strong again. No more pain. No more booze as painkillers.” Y/N reached for the bottle and took it away from his hands. “I’m here, with you, Logan. You don’t have to do this alone.” 

The next words he said were something he’d never imagined he would say to anyone. “I’m scared, Y/N. There is this fear inside of me that life will suck for another two hundred years. And now, here, with you, I fear that I’m gonna lose you again. It was painful the first time. I’m not gonna be able to do it again.” 

Carefully, she climbed onto his lap. He put her hands on her waist while Y/N buried her fingers into his hair. “That’s how I feel now. I feel I’m going to lose you just when I was able to get to you.” She then brushed the tired skin under his eyes with a thumb. “I don’t want to lose you, but I will if you won’t take the antidote. Fuck, I want to be so selfish and convince you to take it. However, the choice is yours.” 

Hot tears spilt from her eyes. The choked sobs made Logan clench his heart. He knew his girl would never force him even when she wanted to. She was never selfish. It was his choice. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, inhaling her sweet scent. Damn, she smelled better than he remembered. 

“I want to sleep on that,” he said. “I’m so fucking tired. I should take a shower.” 

She tilted her head and smiled suggestively at him. “How about we take it together?” she asked, voice innocent and sweet. 

“Hm, you really wanna get inside my pants,” he laughed which made him cough. 

Y/N glared at him. “You make me look like a perv,” she said. 

“Who was undressing me minutes ago?”

“Who let me and didn’t stop me at the beginning?” she asked back. 

Logan patted her ass cheeks. “Come on, darlin’. I’ll show you the hole I shower in. At least we’ll save some water.” 

They got off the bed. First, Logan walked to an old wardrobe where he took out a simple t-shirt and some boxers he rarely used. He handed them to Y/N. “Something to wear afterwards,” he said. 

Like Logan said, it was a hole where he usually showered. It was big enough for two, even three people at the same time. It had hot and cold water. He had a soap and a shower gel. Hell, he had a spare towel, a smaller one, for Y/N. 

He leaned against a washbasin when his eyes locked on Y/N’s body. He watched her like a hawk as she undressed from her all-black attire. Over a year had passed since he saw her like this - exposed to his hungry eyes. She was right there, showing him her gorgeous body. No shame, no need to cover herself up. Only a gentle smile tugged at her lips. 

Y/N called him in. She put her body under the warm stream of water. This time it was her turn to watch him undress from the pants. And, like before, he didn’t wear any underwear. Her eyes were met with his semi-hard member. 

More scars littered his thick thighs. Mostly slashes from knives. And yet, he was still beautiful. A sexy man who had her heart for a very long time. 

His lips pressed into the back of her neck once he stepped inside the shower. His strong arms wrapped around her middle, pulling her back to his chest. 

Logan’s hands caressed her body. He felt every curve, exploring her as if it was for the first time. Her body was soft and warm. When one of the hands brushed up through her navel to the left breast, he squeezed it and then moved up and wrapped it around her neck. “So pretty, all mine.” 

They couldn’t resist each other. Logan had her pressed against a cold wall in no time, slowly filling her up with his cock. He enjoyed every push, every clench. He muttered sweet nothings into her ear as she moaned his name. Slow, sexy and filled with love. No, he wasn't fucking her like in the past - hard, rough. This was lovemaking. Emotions played the main role here. 

After the shower, and a long soft make-out session, they returned to the old bed. Logan put her body over his. Like this, they could sleep on the bed until the very morning. Or at least Y/N did. 

Logan kept thinking most of the night about the person in his arms. Some higher force brought them back together. In the past, he lost everyone he loved. When Y/N came into his life, he hesitated to let her in. That woman swallowed his heart and made him feel things he never knew were possible. When he lost her again, and the rest of his X-men family, he was ready to end it all and die. Not anymore.

“Baby?” 

This was the first time Logan used this pet name since reuniting. Y/N’s eyes opened immediately, her head tilting up at Logan. Was something happening? “Everything okay?” she asked. 

Logan brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. Her eyes were small, tired. But they sparkled when he looked closer. “I’ll take the antidote.”

“Really?” 

He kissed the tip of her nose. “I have you now. I have something worth living. I thought about your survival and your mutation. Shit, you can heal now, Y/N. It’s giving me hope that I’ll be able to spend many more years with you.” 

Y/N climbed up his body to press her lips onto his. It was a sweet, short peck. “Are you sure about this? I don’t want to force you or anything. This is purely your choice.” 

He grabbed her face into his hands, staring into her eyes. “I love you,” he said. “Let’s do this now.” 

“Oh, okay!”

While she went into her jacket to get the antidote and an injection, Logan sat up and cracked his fingers. His hands were shaking. A painful groan escaped his throat when he felt another wave of pain. He longed to take a bottle that called his name and drink it in one go. 

Logan’s red, tired eyes rather moved to the sweet ass of his woman. The view was nice, distracting. A smile formed behind his thick beard as he memorised it. 

Y/N got back to the bed and prepared the blue liquid. “One more thing,” she sighed. “We don’t know whether the healing process will be painful or not. I’ll be with you the entire time.” 

“I’ll manage. I’ve been through a lot of shit. It’s not gonna be painful as the damn application of adamantium into my bones. Or the feeling when I thought I lost you.” He stretched his left arm, showing her the big vein popping out. 

She took a deep breath through her nose and lowered the needle to his skin until it penetrated it. She injected the antidote into the vein and took the needle out. The tiny wound instantly closed. 

Logan’s breathing sped up. He frowned, gasped for air and grunted. He was in a lot of pain. The effect started fast. Y/N dropped the empty injection on the ground. She jumped up, grabbing Logan by his wide shoulders. “Breathe,” she told him. His body was hot, sweating. “Logan, breathe.” 

A scream erupted from his throat. His fists clenched, eyes closed shut. It was evident the pain was unbearable. The roaring brought Caliban into his room. His mutant eyes wide as he watched Logan rolling on the bed in excruciating pain. 

“What the fuck have you done to him?” he shouted at Y/N. 

She didn’t know what to do or what to say. “Wait!” she yelled at Caliban, raising a hand not to intervene. 

That’s when she noticed that every wound, every ugly scar started to disappear, leaving the skin nice and smooth. It was working. She felt some relief inside her soul. 

Logan’s chest was heaving. Grunts and snarls came out of his mouth. Luckily, the shouting was done. He was calming down. All those voices and pain turned into heavy breathing. 

“Logan?” Y/N appeared above him. She scanned his face and moved downwards his body to his rising and falling chest. 

“Holy shit,” he gasped. “Did it work?” 

Caliban appeared above him. “What the hell? How is this possible?” 

“Yes, it did,” Y/N smiled. 

Logan’s body healed. Every wound, scar or pain he felt minutes ago was gone. Even his eyes looked brighter. The redness was gone as well as the dark bags under them. 

He lifted his body from the bed and found Y/N’s face. Both hands pressed to her cheeks and then moved down her neck. “Fuck, you look so damn beautiful. I can fucking see. My vision was fucked. I had to wear reading glasses.” 

“Hey,” Caliban reminded them he was present in the room. “What have you done to him?” 

“I cured him,” she said. 

“How’s that possible?”

“I have my ways,” she replied, eyes never leaving Logan’s face. A smile played on her lips. She couldn’t stop staring into his pretty face. Well, he was handsome even before she gave him the antidote. “How do you feel?” 

Logan pressed a kiss to her lips, hugging her body as he pulled her into his lap. He was never fond of PDA, but now, he didn’t give a shit about it. If it made Caliban uncomfortable, good. At least that fucker would leave his room and give them some privacy.

The kiss ended. “I feel reborn. I don’t feel any pain. I can see clearly. Like a goddamn miracle.” Logan put her down on the bed next to him and walked to a mirror he had in the room. “Fuck!” he gasped. He stared at his reflection. 

He kept searching for the scars on his shoulders and his face. Or the one over his ribs. There was nothing. What remained was the grey-brown short hair or the thick beard. His fingers touched every part of his face, just to be sure it wasn’t an illusion.

“At least I don’t have to watch the puss on his knuckles,” Caliban commented. “By the way, it’s time to give Charles his medication. Since you are all cheerful and healthy, it’s your turn. I had a rough night,” he said grumpily. 

Logan glared at the mutant. “Fine.” 

Once Caliban was out of the room, Y/N walked to Logan. He wrapped his right arm around her waist and pressed a kiss to her temple. “Thank you, darlin’.” 

“Anything for you. Now, it’s time to move to the rest of my plan,” she said. “I have a safe place for us. It’s gonna be a long drive to Canada, but everything is set and ready. And by us, I also included Charles. We need to take care of him. He once welcomed us to the mutant school. It’s our turn to do the same.” 

He shook his head in disbelief. “Always the one with a plan. What about Caliban?” 

“Sorry, not included,” she said. “He did a lot of shit in his life. I can arrange some supplies for him once we leave, but that’s it.” 

“When do we leave?” 

“As soon as we can. Let’s give Charles his meds, pack everything you need and leave,” said Y/N. 

Logan took a deep breath. “Come here,” he whispered. He needed to kiss her. It was like sealing a deal with Y/N, that this was the new beginning, a new chance to have a better life. Was this finally his happy ending? 

[orchidyoonkook]

To What We Were Before, And All The Things After | JJK | Ch. 7

Title: Hard Goodbyes and Favourite Colours

Pairing: Prince!College Student!JK x Fine Arts Major!(F)!Reader

Series Rating//Genre: (M) | College AU, Mild Royalty AU, Smut, Angst, Fluff, S2F2L, Indiffernce to lovers, sloooowwww ass burn

Summary: Nel flies home, Yuri flies back, Jungkook can't stop thinking about the other night. And you? Gods, don't even get me started.

Warnings: T, language, fluff (?), angst, reader is ~not~ okay for a chunk of this, bye bye Nel! it was nice to meet you, Yuri being the bestie she is, playful antagonism, JK thinking a lot, some photography technical words but nothing scary, reader is painting again, shocker.

Word Count: 4,463

Release Date: July 9, 2024. 2:00PM

A/N 1: Hi this was supposed to be released like a month and a half ago but then i went to europe and my brain was anywhere but near electronics. Anywhooo here she is, as always thanks for waiting and I'll try to be more consistent now that post vacation depression has kicked in.

Series: Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six

Sometimes life works out incredibly conveniently for you, like when Nel’s flight leaves a half hour before Yuri’s gets in at the same airport. 

But then it sucks again as your week with Nel flies by so quickly it feels like you’ve had no time at all while also having so much because of all the new memories you’ve both made. 

Currently in a rideshare and airport bound, because you will be in no way okay to drive back, your grip on Nel’s hand is strangling as you take in every last second of time you can get with him. He keeps giving kisses to your forehead, nose, cheeks, mouth; anywhere he can get access to really. 

He doesn't want this week to end just as much as you don’t. Fuck this fucking sucks so much.

The driver pulls up to the terminal drop off, and you both exit. Nel grabs his bag from the trunk, now filled with little mementos from your week as well as his clothes. A pressed flower from the greenhouse, museum postcards, a doodle you did for him while he was sketching, and more, all tucked away for safekeeping. All the only physical things he can hold onto until he sees you next. 

Walking into the airport, you make your way up to the check in desk, paperwork already in hand. Nel checks in and you request an escort pass, determined to spend every last moment together. 

There’s a lump forming in your throat that you’re trying to swallow. It’s thick, like a ball of unending peanut butter you can’t get down. And your chest feels like a black hole has opened inside of it, right where your heart is supposed to be. Every second that ticks away allowing another drop of the warmth you have with him to be sucked right out of your sternum.

Painful doesn’t even begin to describe this feeling. 

As beautiful as your week was, the reality of the present is setting in, and the closer you get to his gate, the closer you are to tears. You’re trying your best to blink them away, but you won’t be seeing him until winter break, and even then, that’ll only be for a day or two at most before you have to wait till summer to see him again. So it might as well be goodbye for those full 6 months.

It hurts. It hurts so bad to have to go through this over and over again, to have this separation from the one you love, even if it’s only temporary. Funny how temporary can sometimes feel like forever when you’re in the middle of it. 

Funny how the concept of temporary doesn’t make the gash in your heart open any less.

You don’t want him to go, but you know he has too. The faster he goes, the faster he can come back to you. 

You hate that he has to go in the first place. You just want him to stay. Please, just stay.

But he can’t. 

You reach his gate and before you know it, his flight’s being called to board and your tears refuse to stay inside any longer, the lump succeeding in its plot of victory. They spill down your cheeks in silent rivers, wet splotches on the neckline of your shirt forming as they flow. 

Maybe they’ll create a little lake in the hole he’s leaving you with. There’s certainly enough of them to fill it. Something to fill the void a little until you can see him again.

Nel takes one look before scooping you into a crushing hug, a desperate echo of the one from a week ago. His own tears now staining.

“I love you so much,” he says. You don’t see his eyes squeeze shut, nor do you see him memorizing your smell, as he kisses the top of your head. And his voice wobbles as he whispers, “It’s not forever, it’s just for now.” 

He says those words every time you two part, whether it was for a day or a year. Never goodbye or so long. Never see you later. 

They’ve always been a small comfort in otherwise shitty situations. 

“Just for now,” you get out through quiet sobs, gripping onto him even tighter as you shake. 

It takes you a couple deep breaths before you can say anything without breaking. “I love you too. Please be safe, message me when you land, and do well on your final exams.”

He smiles at that last bit, and your tears free themselves again. You’re going to miss seeing that smile in person.

Nel pulls you in once more, tighter. “It’s always harder when my good luck charm is halfway across the world, but I’ll manage.” Your sobs stutter with a broken laugh, and you’re pretty sure his sweater is going to have tear stains on it. “I promise I’ll message as soon as I can. And I’d wish you luck but you never need it. You always do well.”

The announcement for final boarding calls and both of you freeze in each other's arms. You don’t want him to go. He doesn’t want to go.

But he has too. 

You separate only enough to kiss. It’s messy and wet and gross, but you don’t care. It’s the last one you’ll have for a while and you never want it to end. 

But it does. 

Nel pulls away, and you reluctantly let him. He grabs his bag with one hand, the other holding onto both of yours as he backs away until he can no longer reach. Your arms drop to your sides with the traces of his warmth on your skin.

You watch as the boarding crew welcomes him on, and he takes one look back at you. 

You wave, mouthing ‘I love you.’

He mouths ‘I love you’ right back, and turns the corner.

You waited for Yuri at her terminal after dropping off Nel and taking five—okay ten—minutes to violently sob in the bathroom. 

She took one look at your half smile and puffy eyes and smothered you in a hug. Smelling like sunshine and ocean water, it was exactly what you needed. 

“It’s okay Sweets, you’ll see him again before you know it. This year will pass by so fast, just you see,” she tells you through your whimpers, the tears having returned the second her arms were around you.

They dry sometime on the way home. It was a thirty minute ride back to school, and they fell silently for a solid twenty before you even got in.

You hate goodbyes. 

But Yuri’s seen this three times now, and she always knew that a warm drink and junk food were in your immediate shared futures when she did. Screw healthy coping methods. It may be 9:30pm on a Sunday night, but that won’t stop you from downing a pint as you drown your sorrows in sweet, sweet cookies n cream. 

Yuri also knows you need a distraction, so she doesn’t hold back on telling you every detail of her vacation. 

The duke from a few weeks ago had been a dud. ‘Shit personality and even shittier sex’ according to Yuri. No consultation needed. 

But this new guy from the Ilcalos Islands sounds promising. He’s a Count of something she can’t remember but in her words, “big heart and even bigger dick.” 

That makes you giggle. And you’re happy for her. 

“Bitch, the second night he did this thing with his tongue and an ice cube and oh. my. god. I think I’m in love. That man could do whatever he wanted to me and I’d still say thank you afterwards,” she’s rambling at this point and you’re mentally apologizing to the driver for having to hear all of it. 

You, on the other hand, don’t mind at all; gladly welcome it actually. You want your mind anywhere other than the present right now. 

You don’t want to start crying all over again. By the morning you’ll be fine, you’ll have let out everything you needed too. But between then and now, it’s a matter of mentioning the wrong words or seeing an intriguingly designed building that could trigger those pesky tear ducts.

So you listen to Yuri go on and on about this guy, all his techniques and what she hasn’t been able to stop thinking about since she last saw him. His number is already saved in her phone under a very inappropriate name, but you expect nothing less from her. 

You love her for it. For this. 

For knowing what you need to stay afloat right now and not allowing you to throw the anchor overboard with your leg chained to the end.

You really fucking hate goodbyes. 

You’re staring at him. 

Like, full on, no bars held, staring at him. 

And Jungkook’s pretending he doesn’t notice.

You’re sitting in your chair and he’s back in his beside you at greenhouse cafe. Your half done painting of pink flowers sits in front of you, his laptop screen’s filled with this week's newly assigned ‘Studio Portrait Techniques 1’ homework. 

His half finished coffee on his table. An empty pastry bag on yours.

His hands on his keyboard, yours gripping a brush.

And you’re staring at him. 

He’s hoping it’s because this is the first time you’ve seen him since Nel left. 

But it’s probably to do with the fact that he hasn’t looked at you once today. Or the fact that he’s barely spoken at all when he usually can’t seem to shut up when it’s been more than 48 hours since he last saw you. 

Because it’s also the first time he’s seen you since he was with Adaline, imaging she wasn’t Adaline.

“You’re acting weird,” you say.

“No I’m not,” he responds a little too quickly, eyes still focused on his computer.

Yes he is. He really, totally is. 

“Yes you are, you won't look at me and you’ve barely said two words since I got here.” Well your knack for observancy is still intact.

Normally that's a good thing, but right now?

“Did I do something wrong?”

No. No you didn’t.

He did.

He let his emotions get the best of him in a moment of weakness. He let himself become so overwhelmed with feelings he isn’t allowed to have. He let them win for a single night.

And now if he isn’t paying the goddamned consequences. 

After that night with Adaline, Jungkook had woken up filled with regret. He’d crossed a line he didn’t even know he should have drawn in very dark, very permanent ink.

For letting himself, just for one moment, imagine what it would be like to be with…

And things are harder than ever to shove down now. He can’t look even look at you without thinking about it. About what he did. What he wanted. 

Wants.

Fuck, he’s in over his head.

Jungkook forces himself to look at you, putting his years of social training and emotional masking to good use. It sure as hell came in handy during times like this.

Because you can never know. 

He can’t lose you because he's unable to get his shit together. It’s not your fault he feels like this. 

So he lies. Both to you and to himself, hoping it might help him believe it.

“Nothing’s wrong Dali, just focused on my work is all. We got assigned a big project on Monday and I’m planning out all my shoots.”

You look hesitant, like you can see right through his bullshit excuse that was only a half excuse because this project is massive. 

“If you say so,” your tone implying you don’t believe him, but thankfully, you let it go and lean closer to him to see. He pretends his breathing doesn’t hitch, “What’s the project?”

“It’s my final assignment for a class, I have to do a series of five portraits. Each one with a different style, capturing a different emotion, and they all have to be of the same subject to show the true versatility of my work. It’s easy to make things look different when it’s different people being photographed,” he explains.

Therefore, this assignment, and all of its working parts, is huge. He’s glad it’s due in the middle of December because it’s going to take him almost a month of planning to get it all together; backdrops, concepts, costumes, previsualization, focal lengths, props, equipment, lighting setups, etc. And then when the planning is over: to shoot, narrow down and edit. 

But that’s the point of it. To have the students demonstrate they know how to effectively expand on the definition of a ‘portrait’ instead of having one concept in mind and sticking to it. 

‘To broaden your creative approaches to seemingly simple constructs,’ as his professor would say.

He loves the way this professor does assignments. How she layers them so that not only does he learn how to shoot multi-concept ideas for the same project type, allowing him to add to his creative portfolio, but they also force him to break out of the expected conclusions for an idea and think outside the box. 

“Oh wow, that is a lot,” you say. Because you understand long running projects. 50 hour paintings don’t just happen in a day. “Do you have any ideas yet?”

“Yeah! I have them all already, actually,” he turns his computer towards you and you see a point by point list of summarized ideas.

- Bright and bold - happy, bright smile, colourful gels - Black and white, soft light: gel or bounce? Silk diffuser  - profile with water falling on face - relieved - Focused on passion - candid, regular colour. Diffuser? Or silk flag? - Normal colour profile, stark lighting - serious, front facing body, profile facing left, no visible clothing, “regal” _|(_*-*)>_. Flag.  - Mysterious - black background, white smoke, barely visible model, lower half of face painted black, upper half white, striking purple eyes (contacts?). Flags. Gels? 

“I’m really excited for this project,” he says, “it’s just the prep that’s going to take a while. Getting it all mapped and planned out. It’s mostly concepts right now.”

You nod, understanding once again. Though very different mediums, visual arts and photography are similar in many ways. 

“Adaline going to be your model?”

It doesn’t surprise him you think that, but he has no intentions of ever using Adaline for assignments or homework. 

“Actually, I… uhh…” he trails off. Jungkook’s trying to get the words out, he is. But they’re surprisingly difficult for some reason, and getting caught in his throat. 

Which makes his earlier anxious state come back in full force. 

It shouldn't be this difficult. It won’t be the first, second or fifth time he’s asked you.

Get the words out Jeon. Put on your professional face, this is nothing new.

He fails, instead, his voice comes out barely above a whisper as he says, “I was going to ask you if you would.”

You somehow hear him. 

“Me?” you look dumbfounded. 

“Yes, you.” He’s always used you for homework assignments before, so he’s not sure why all of a sudden this is surprising. Maybe because it’s a final assignment versus a weekly one? The effort will be greater? 

“But you have Adaline? I assumed that she would take up the position of model when you guys started going out.”

Oh. That makes more sense. 

But that is one mistake he won’t be making again, because he did ask Adaline. 

Once.

It was recent, Nel was still here and he didn’t want to disturb you because of that. Plus Jungkook was just trying to get a jump on his upcoming assignments anyway, taking a page from your book.

So he asked Adaline. And she leapt at the opportunity, like he expected.

What he didn’t expect, was when she essentially directed, staged, lit and posed every. single. shot. so that she would look her best. 

All he did was click the capture image button when she said too. 

And after the shoot, before he could even think to look at the pictures, Adaline was already there, holding his camera, going through them and deleting any picture she deemed ‘ugly.’

He was left with less than 20 images from the shoot where he was ordered to take over 200. And she even made him switch out one of the three he narrowed down for one she liked better. 

So no, he would not be asking Adaline to model. 

Ever again.

“Nah. You’re a lot easier to work with because you don't care how the pictures turn out, and let me do my thing. Adaline cares a bit too much, and has to have approval on all of them before I submit.”

You snort. “Seriously? Is she that self absorbed?” a quirked brow places itself on your face to match the smirk now on your mouth.

That’s new.

Your tone towards Adaline has always been neutral, if not a bit sharp when he talks about her. 

But this one? It’s like you know her, and knew she was like that, but didn’t know it was this severe. 

Adaline is very popular...maybe you two met and it didn't go well?

It certainly sounds like you don’t like her, if those six words were anything to go by. Which, he guesses they shouldn’t, but he knows you well enough by now to know the difference.

And if he’s honest, that wouldn’t shock him in the slightest. You two are nothing alike, and thank god for that. 

He covers for Adaline, like any boyfriend would. Though it stings a little bit.

“She’s just careful about what images could be leaked to the press. Can’t really blame her for that.”

Your face changes minutely, as if a second of understanding passes through before you turn to go back to your painting, and mutter, “no, you can’t,” placing a splash of pink on a flower. 

He returns to his work as well, switching the portrait assignment out for a different one. He needs to get his mind off it for a while before circling back. 

And the fact that you didn’t answer him. 

Deciding on a Design and Visual Culture assignment due next week, he dives in head first, resuming his earlier state of focus and avoidance.

Jungkook’s editing a picture when you stretch. 

You often hunch over your work, so you try to stretch every 30 minutes or so. Your arms are in the air and he catches a peek at the nearly finished floral study. 

They’re some kind of vibrant pink dangling flowers, and you’ve captured the likeness of them quite well, to no surprise of his, so he goes to compliment it but you beat him to the punch.

“Shots blurry.”

Jungkook does a double take at his laptop screen. He’d spent the better part of 40 minutes editing the image and hadn’t noticed that.

Because it’s not. It’s perfectly crisp and clear.

When he looks back to you, you have a shit eating grin on your face. 

Ah, he knows that look. 

You love to tease him about little things like that, giving him mini heart attacks. ‘Pay back for that first day,’ you claim. 

Well…

Two can play this game, so he plays off your comment.

“Oh, you're right. Thanks,” and he switches to another image. 

Your grin falters but you recover quickly.

“No problem.”

See, while you know how to playfully harass him about his pictures, Jungkook knows how…particular you are about your colours. How they need to be labelled correctly instead of by their umbrella terms like ‘blue’ or ‘red.’ Because blue or red could mean any one of the dozens of ‘sub colours.’

‘It’s not blue, it’s cerulean,’ you’d remark. 

‘That’s not red, it’s burgundy,’ you’d correct him.

You’re always correcting him, and it makes his pants tighten a little bit every time. But that’s on the other side of the line he does not cross anymore. A nice, big, fat, permanent, protective line. 

Jungkook settles for a more subtle method of attack. Using this little fact and your ridiculously extensive knowledge of flowers against you. 

He never thought the defense and attack lessons his father put him through would come in handy like this. But he’s glad for them now. It was the only time he could ever outsmart you.

He gestures to your canvas. “Those pink flowers are pretty, what are they called?” 

“Their common name is Lady’s Eardrop. And they’re magenta.”

Hook, line, sinker. 

He doesn’t even have to try, you walk right into it every time.

“Lady’s eardrop? That’s a weird name…do they come in other colours besides pink?”

You don’t look up as you reply. 

“Magenta, and yeah. Some are plum and magenta, some are a buttery white and magenta, and then some have this like, almost dark tangerine hue, but they’re a different type, longer. Not the same as those,” you point with the end of your brush to the greenhouse, where the fully magenta lady’s eardrop sits in the window. 

“And are these pink ones your favourite?” he’s really trying his best to keep a straight face as yours contorts with an eye twitch at every use of the word.

“They’re. Magenta. And sure, but the plum ones are pretty too.”

“Noted, the pink lady's eardrop are your favourite among eardrops.”

You break, turning to him, voice raising in minor annoyance. Jungkook bites his cheeks to keep a smile at bay.

“They are magenta. Not pink. Pink entails a lighter hue, there’s more titanium white in pink. That,” you point again, “is very clearly, magenta.”

He has to. 

He can’t help it. 

You’re sexy when you're assertive, he thinks. Tip toeing on that nice, big line.

But also hilarious. 

“Same difference.”

He can see the fire in your eyes blaze.

“No, not ‘same difference,’ they’re magenta!”

He’s leaning in. “Pink,” eyeing your lips as you speak. 

You lean in too, enunciating every syllable to prove your point. “Ma-gen-ta.”

Your noses are mere inches from touching. 

“They’re pink, Van Gogh,” he backs off before he does something stupid that he’ll regret, “Don’t get so invested.”

You back off too, sass still very evident when you reply, “They’re fucking magenta, asshat. Two completely different colours and you’ll label them as such around me.”

You’ve always had a mouth on you. One you aren’t scared to use when necessary, especially around him. So he doesn’t push any farther, knowing he’s already gotten what he wanted and then some. 

But also because sitting has become slightly uncomfortable. There was a stiff breeze, he tells himself.

Thank god for baggy, oversized hoodies. 

Returning once again to his work, he puts an elbow on the table and places his hand on the left side of his face to hide the massive smile that’s trying its best to turn into a smothered laugh.

Unfortunately for him, he lets his Princely guard down around you and so he forgets to force it down to an uncomfortable degree like he would at the palace. His laugh slipping out as a strangled noise and he quickly turns it into a cough, hoping you don't notice. 

But you do, because it’s you. Of course you do.

And the look on your face is priceless.

“You did that on purpose!”

“What?” he says way too high pitched. “Nooo, I would never, one hundred percent intentionally, say pink just to get back at you for pointing out the non-existent blur in my perfectly clear picture.”

He can see you trying to control your features, can see you failing and giving up by facing your canvas again, smiling to yourself.

“I was wondering how many times I could get you to say it. I think that was somewhere around ten? Gotta be a new record.”

You roll your eyes at him, but your quirked mouth remains. 

“You’re such a dick,” you quip.

“Yet, you like me anyways.”

You mumble something incoherent.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

“Awe, c’mon now. Fess up.”

A pause, before, “I said I just remembered I don’t know your favourite colour.”

No you most certainly did not, but he’ll let it slide.

“Black.”

“Ugh, boring.”

“What?”

“Boring,” you say again with absolutely no hesitation and proceed to grace his eyes with your own. “And technically not a colour. Black’s a shade.”

Jungkook offers up a non-smothered chuckle, saving his throat from further shenanigans.

“Whatever, Seurat, it’s still black. What about you? What’s Miss High and Mighty All Knowing of Colours’ favorite?”

“It’s still a shade,” you repeat.

“It’s still my favourite. Answer the question,” he presses. 

You give him an unimpressed stare. 

“Violet. Royal violet. The one your dad wears a lot,” your expression softens to one of wonder as you continue. Like you didn't just refer to the King of the nation you live in as ‘his dad’ so casually. “And when it’s not that, it’s this bright yellow. Like sunflowers or daffodils. Or the colour leaves turn in the fall when the light hits them from above just right.”

It’s Jungkook's turn to stare now. You look lost in your own head, envisioning the colours you describe, seeing them dancing in your eyes. And he can’t help himself, you glow when you speak about something you're passionate about.

“Why two?” 

“Why not?” you answer, still dreaming, colours swimming in oceans of thought. Your voice is almost whimsical. “Don’t you get bored of one colour for too long? It’s nice to switch things up every now and then.”

His reply brings you back down to earth, albeit slowly.

“Red.”

“Hmm?” you touch ground.

“If you won’t accept black, then red. The rich dark one, like blood.” He chose the first colour that came into mind, not really caring which one. 

He did like red. Red looked good in many ways. On cars, clothes, lips...

But he chose the first one that popped into mind because after hearing your favourite colours and the reasons why, he started to like them more than all the others too.

“Red’s a great choice, strong,” you say, allowing him the blanket term just this once.

“Thanks.”

There’s a moment of comfortable quiet between you before you break it.

“When do you need me for the shoot?”

Jungkook’s eyebrows find his hairline. 

That was a yes, right? You’re saying yes?

“Uhm…soon, I’ll let you know the specifics when I do.”

“Sounds good.”

He was going to leave it at that, but adds, “Thanks, Y/N.”

He hasn’t said your name since the assembly. 

Always nicknames when talking to you. Always. 

Never your name. 

Not once in two months. Almost three.

You—

An inhale.

You…like it.

The way it sounds coming from his lips.

Exhale.

Chapter Eight: Photo Shoots and Blasphemous Discoveries

A/N 2: She's shorter but chapter 8 is like 11k so far, so I hope that makes up for it!

A/N 3: As always, Thank you for reading, loves. Xoxo - Yoon <3

<- Back

[tremendouscreationperson]

Logan x Reader pt.6

I know it took forever please forgive me!

I have a couple more ideas for this, if you guys want it to continue

If you think I'm just milking please it let me know, there's so many better fic writers out there I really didnt think this would blow up like it did 🫶

<< Part 5 Part 7 >> Masterlist

You had thought scavenging was difficult however as you stared at the immensely filled shelves you realised choosing was harder. You’d thought to purchase some crackers, just to see if Laura had preferences; however there were twelve different types of Goldfish and Goldfish was just one brand. This whole aisle was overflowing with crackers. It was insane. Who needed this many choices?

Elektra, Gambit and Blade had tagged along, the latter only for company, and they all seemed to be in the same position. Tired eyes mindlessly scanning for anything familiar. Anything that sounded good. Did you even remember the taste of ‘spicy chilli’? Or did you prefer ‘sour cream and chives’?

The shelves were too much and they were tall. You couldn't see over them, couldn't see potential threats or keep an eye on the exits. Why did the aisles need to be this long? They were endless. Endless and bright and colourful and the store was loud. Why were there children running around? There could be anyone around the corner. Each stomp of little feet drilled a hole in your head.

Picking up speed you rounded the corner and hid yourself by a pillar. The thing was an eyesore for the employees, they definitely had trouble stocking the shelves around it, but to you it was bliss.

You rest your forehead against the cool metal and force the air out of your lungs. You took in a big gulp before forcing it out again.

The noise of the store was drowned out by your breathing, by your hammering heart. You could hear vague snippets but it sounded like when an explosion was too close. Warped and muffled at the same time.

“Mon cher?” Gambit placed a light hand on your shoulder, despite how careful he was it still caused you to jerk. “Y/N. You 're okay.” You couldn't tell what was happening but your head was moving. Was it nodding or shaking? Your mouth opened to respond but nothing, bar a few halfhearted noises, could come out. “Y/N.” He tried again, but this had never happened. You'd never felt like this. This pain in your chest. Was… did you survive the Void to have a heart attack? “‘m get ‘ogan.”

You deliriously gave him a thumbs up.

Without any sort of logic or proof you knew the floor was safe. Of course it was, it was a constant. The floor would never leave. It couldn't. So you knelt down, your knees against the linoleum and your head still against the pillar. Or was it a beam? Why was this happening? You used to be able to do this. Why couldn't you fucking shop? All this time you'd had dreams of normality and now it was here and you were too crazy to be here?

Maybe you belonged in the Void. Then again, maybe this was Cassandra. You had thought it previously, everything was far too easy. She could be laughing her ass off at how you reacted to a fake superstore. Imagine.

Noise had slowly started to come back but it was too loud. Too much. Too bright. Why was it so bright? Why did people need to be blasted in the face to see what toothpaste they needed?

Maybe this was it.

Maybe it was the end of the line.

You were just rewatching your life.

That would be... nice.

To know that there was an end.

God, that was depressing.

You didn't mean it that way and you don't know why you thought it but it actually brought you some comfort.

Not enough to stop you hyperventilating on the dirty floors, though.

“Baby?” That was Logan now. Why was he always there to save you? He didn't have to be. Hell, he didn't know you. You might be the worst version of yourself and here he was doting over you.

You didn't deserve that.

What had you done to deserve that type of love?

He had sat out on the fire escape all night and you can't even pick up fucking crackers.

Who even likes crackers!?

“Baby?” He repeated, closer now.

You turned to the side and saw him but also saw through him.

“Can you tell me your name?”

What sort of mind fuckery was this? He knows your name. “Y/N L/N.” Your voice was tiny but he could see the way your mouth formed the words.

“How many fingers am I holding up?”

Your eyes stayed trained on his face but you answered using your peripheral. “Two.” The word still small and but now just hardly audible.

“And what's this?” You let your eyes meander down to his hand and saw he was pointing at a scrubbing brush you were hunched by.

You felt your brows pull together in confusion. “Cleaning thing.”

He let out an amused huff but was sincere with his words. “Now, love, what can you hear?”

Hear? You can hear everything. Him mostly. There were footsteps and trolley wheels and the buzzing of the speakers and constant rustling of shopping bags or plastic packaging and chattering and the child running riot was now crying and the checkouts were beeping and the deli counter number was called. “Rustling?”

“What else?”

“Crying.”

“One more?” His voice had lowered, he was more breathy.

“Your breath.”

“Can you follow my breathing?”

It was even. He was breathing in and out. Like literally every other living creature. Even trees could breathe.

“Are you able to move your hand?” He continued, tapping his chest. “Put it here?”

Of course, who did he take you for? You shakily slapped it onto his chest and he held it tight. Taking in the largest breath and releasing it slowly.

He repeated that for a while and slowly you found yourself assimilated. You were copying him with perfect movements.

The constant humming in your head had stopped, the noises were bearable, the lights even seemed duller. “I- I think I'm okay now?”

“Can you stand?” His eyes were darting all over your face, trying to gauge a reaction.

You bit your lip and nodded, moving stiff legs and easing your way up. He was swift with his movements making sure you were one hundred percent okay on your wobbly legs before he stepped back.

“That's never happened before.” You felt tired, drained. Your whole body was on fire. Why was it so sore? You had mentally freaked out and now your body was aching?

“It was an anxiety attack.” He voiced the obvious but could tell you were going to argue so carried on. If he was talking you had to listen. “They're not uncommon for those who've suffered. I’ve had them due to my PTSD.” Maybe you'd feel at ease if you knew he got them as well.

“But I don't have PTSD.”

“I think you might,” You scrunch your face. “the years spent in the Void, couldn't have been easy.”

“We survived.”

“That's what VETs say.”

Your rebuttal died on your tongue as you took two seconds to actually think about it. He might be onto something. “Is that why Stark said we need a therapist?”

“Possibly.”

“The whole time I was in the Void this didn't happen.” You grumbled. “Just carried on.”

“You didn't have time then. Your brain can now process your trauma.” Damn, Lydia - his therapist - was a genius. “In a weird way this is being healthy.”

“It's called an atta-” You huffed, hugging your middle. “I don't care what's happening, I just don't want Laura to see.” You had separated in the store to cover more ground. She had wanted to wander, to see the store for herself, and you had thought you'd be able to gather everything by the time she was headed back to you.

“She may need to see. She mig-she feels like she has to be strong.” He knew what Laura thought because she was him. “She needs to be shown this is okay.”

You were getting frustrated now. “Okay but not yet. Just- I just want a nap. My head hurts. My body, too.”

“Okay, we can leave.” It was not even noon, the others would ask questions about your sleeping pattern.

“Oh wait, no, I don't want her to worry about being noisy.” You tapped your teeth together as you wracked your brain. “Can I nap in your room?”

“Of course.” He would never deny you that, it also was a win-win as he could monitor you without Laura's beady eyes stalking him.

~~

It was safe to say that your “sickness” was the worst kept secret. It was obvious to everyone what had happened and even Wade seemed concerned. So much that he postponed the party.

Logan had settled you into his bed hours ago, checking on you periodically and was just waiting for you to rise. He had nothing better to do.

You were his world.

Laura had knocked once to see if there were any updates but he had told her the truth. That he had nothing to tell and was worried himself.

She walked back with slumped shoulders, a sliver of guilt slid up Logan's back but she was gone before he could make amends.

Another knock pulled him from Laura's disappointed eyes. Logan hoisted himself off of the armchair and opened the door to see Elektra.

She reminded him of Jean in a lot of ways.

“Here.” El handed a bag over. Logan frowned and opened it to see a multi coloured box. He and you had left the store earlier than the others to get home. He had made no purchases, leaving his basket of goods on the floor where you had slumped over. He hated himself for letting you out of his sight but you had strode off so confidently and Blade was talking to him about different moterbikes. Logan was distracted for a millisecond and you had vanished. Why did he take you guys to a store that large?

“Uh.” He didn't know what to say.

“Just invite Laura over and play these.” She spelt it out. “The kid’s worried sick and won't listen to us.”

He accepted the bag and nodded once. “Okay.”

If loving you meant loving Laura he could do that. He didn't dislike the kid but he saw so much of himself in her. And he hated himself.

El turned on her heel and entered her own door, opposite his.

Logan itched his chin and sighed, walking next door. He knocked twice and waited.

Laura opened the door in a grey hoodie and your fluffy socks. “Hello.”

“You, uh, you wanna play connect four?” He shook the plastic bag.

Laura eyed the bag but nodded once and followed him into his home.

Logan's apartment was the same as yours except he had added throws, blankets, books, CDs and LPs and many more home comforts in preparation for your arrival. His home was decidedly cosier and Laura didn't hate it.

“She's still asleep so I thought we could pass the time together.” He spoke as he sat at the dining table. Laura stood behind the chair to his right and awaited instructions. “You can sit, I just need to set this up.”

Logan unravelled the contents of the bag and found Guess Who and Sorry we're sitting beneath Connect Four. He left them both on the table and delved into the first game.

Building the game wasn't difficult and explaining it to Laura was as easy as saying “connect four of the same colour, either portrait, landscape or diagonal”. The picture on the box was practically instructions.

But playing against her was challenging. She knew how to think like him, knew how to outsmart him.

It occurred to him that she was always observing people. She knew his tells. She was always present and did contribute to the conversation but she preferred to watch. To take in.

Laura was very good at connecting four so after a few games he pulled out Guess Who. That was a little bit more complicated.

“Are you George?”

Logan had thought to pick George but went for a random number - seven - and counted his way along the board. “No. Do you have long hair?”

“I do.” She agreed and he flipped the heads. “I was drawn to George so I thought you might've been.”

“You're onto something there.” Logan sipped his cola. He made sure there were snacks and drinks available.

“Blue eyes?”

“No.”

“I don't know how they got your DNA.” Laura had felt guilty. She knew her Logan didn't ask for her to be born and this one didn't even know she was a thing.

“Been around a long time.” He shrugged. “You'll have that to look forward to.”

“How long?”

“Lipstick?” She shook her head. “I've been around a good two-three hundred years.”

Laura let that settle. Would she be around that long? The doctors did thousands of tests on her but none said she'd live an extended period. “Blonde?”

Logan nodded, noticing the shift in her demeanour. “You okay?”

“That is a long time to be alive.” She picked up a chip and snapped it in half. “Y/N will be dead. And El. And Gambit.”

“You might not live as long.” He tried to make that sound like a good thing. “What's your healing factor like?”

“I've never been ‘injured’.”

He thought about that. He couldn't ask her if she had died. That might be too much for the young woman. “And the Adamantium?”

Laura frowned.

“Your claws.”

“What about them?” Finally popping the chip in her mouth.

“The metal isn't part of the mutation.”

“What?” Laura revealed her claws. They came out sharp and shiny. “They've always been like this.”

A little girl. A small child having the procedure that almost killed him. She definitely would live as long as he does. “It's bone, they added the metal.”

Laura observed her claws, hand swivelling. She had never known them to be bone. Would they even be effective?

“It's alright, though,” he shrugged, giving her a cheesy thumbs up. “You have Blade and me to keep you company.” Laura smiled and rolled her eyes. “Are you Claire?”

~~

The next few days were okay. You were still achy and found it difficult to move but you weren't totally invalid.

In fact you were playing with your newest toy. A telecommunication device. Or a phone.

Wade had burst into the front room, you all collectively sat in, paper bags in hand.

“Guys, I hope you know how odd it was for me to walk in there and ask for five phones. They thought I was a drug dealer.”

Blind Al kissed her teeth. “You could've been buying company phones, idiot.”

“Oh.” Wade slumped. “Maybe it was the meth I offered the cashier…” He handed each of you a box and squeezed himself between Gambit and Al.

There were two sofas that you all were occupying. You were sitting next to Logan, a blanket covering the two of you. Laura was sitting on the floor in front of you, she had done so you could braid her hair but decided to stay. El was perched on the arm of Al’s sofa, Gambit and Wade next to Al, and Blade was standing at Logan's side.

The setup of each phone was easy. Technology was a lot faster than you remembered.

El spoke before you all got distracted. “We have to save each other's numbers.” She knew the collective braincell liked to wander.

Each of you read out your number whilst the others typed it in. But as that happened the phones asked for a contact picture. Now that caused chaos.

El was smiling sweetly in the first pic and looked like she was being held hostage in the last. Gambit had his eyes shut and a middle finger up in practically every one. Blade was exactly the same, it was eerie, he stood statue still as you all snapped him. Laura’s eyes were confused but she did force a smile. You threw up a peace sign just for Wade to tell you it wasn't 2001 anymore. Wade had a different pose for each phone and they were all more elaborate than the last. Al didn't want to participate at all. And finally Logan, much like Laura, faked a smile until you and her took the pics.

Photos were fun. You liked photos. You'd had a trusty Polaroid back in the day and loved snapping pictures, but this was amazing. The photos were really detailed and you had them all saved in a ‘gallery’.

“You happy with the camera?” Logan asked as he saw you in the settings reading what each symbol meant.

“Yeah it's really good and I can take front facing photos.” You smiled at yourself. “Look!” Logan's eyes dropped to his face and he raised an eyebrow as you tapped the button. He huffed out a disbelieving laugh and you snapped again. “You're smiling!” You giggled to yourself, leaning forward. “Laura look.” Laura was playing about with dark mode and she turned her head to see you and her. “We can take a photo.”

Laura smiled and you poked your tongue out as you snapped. You made a heart shape with your hand and got her to copy it, snapping another.

“Logan, get in.” You begged.

He sighed - completely for show - and moved closer. “This angle is all chins.”

You frowned.

“Laura, come and sit up here.” He pat the slither of space between you two. She complied and you tried to get everyone in. “Y/N angle the phone.” You did as instructed and you all smiled.

The phone was heavy in your hands and an awkward shape, your old phone was a flip and easier to hold. “Do the heart thing whilst I hold this.”

The wolverines did.

You took some more, without noticing Wade was in the background, and eventually ceased, sixty-four photos later.

“This is so much fun.”

Wade watched you swiping through the photos, “Just you wait, pumpkin, ‘til you get a hold of the apps.”

“Apps?”

“Like little things on your phone.” He scrunched his face. “Like Snapchat or Instagram or Facebook.”

“I know Facebook.” You nodded. “It was an internet thing, like MySpace.”

“Now it's on an app.”

“Oh.” Was all you had in response. Wade showed you how to get to the app store - Logan, carefully, watching to make sure he wasn't being a little shit - and showed you how to ‘download an app’.

“I have to put my phone number in?” You stared at the screen.

“If that's what it says.” Wade had noticed Al and Gambit speaking again so upped and left. He laid himself across the two of them. “Just follow the steps.”

Okay.

You could do that.

Shit.

The first hurdle.

It asked for your date of birth.

Technically your date of birth was different now, no?

“What do I put?” You asked Logan over Laura's head. “I'm not that old.”

“Just do the maths, put the correct day and month but subtract the years.” He suggested.

“My date of birth would mean I can't have this app.” Laura commented. “Not over eighteen.” She had followed the instructions Wade told you and was now in the same dilemma.

“Do the same but backwards.” Logan tried.

You both, then, had to pick a profile picture. You had the photos on your phone and picked one of you three.

“I don't have a photo of myself.” Laura pressed the camera button and jumped. “Do-do I just take one?”

You smiled. “If you want to.”

“You don't have to have a picture.” Logan supplied.

Laura bit her lip but did decide to take one, she gave a small smile. “Is that okay?”

“You look lovely.” You squeezed her arm.

The two of you had just finished messing about with Facebook when you both received a notification.

‘Elektra Natchios had sent a friend request’, you looked up at her and quickly added.

Gambit and Blade didn't delve into Facebook, the former said he couldn't be bothered the latter told you it was too public.

You suppose Blade is right. But at the same time this is familiar. This is a way to find people. To potentially seek out your family. Or at least see if they exist.

You were just putting the phone away when another friend request popped up. ‘Logan Howlett has sent you a friend request’. He had no profile picture or cover photo and no posts. He did have friends, some of whom you recognised as the X-Men.

“Do you speak to them?” You swivelled your phone, displaying the friends.

“Charles has told them who I am and why I'm here. They accept anyone, they were eager to listen to my story. Probably waiting for you, now.”

“I don't think I can just add them.” Your fingers hovered over Hank’s fuzzy face.

“Then don't.”

“Why don't you have any pictures?”

“I don't really do pictures.”

You weren't too quick but opened your gallery. “You did here.”

“That was with you two.” He gave you a half shrug. “It's different.”

~~

Texting was fun.

You taught Laura all the old slang you used to use. BRB, LOL, TTYL, 411.

Laura did use some of them but preferred to text properly, she had spent a good portion of her time in EDEN and the Void learning basic reading and writing, why would she throw that away?

You were laying in Logan's bed, having claimed it four days ago, listening as his TV played music. He had shown you how to go onto YouTube via the TV and you were very much a fan of these Apps. You did feel a little guilty because you had effectively intruded on his space but his bed was comfy and smelled like him. God it was heavenly.

Why did he smell so good?

Y/N: nighty night beautiful x

Laura: Goodnight x

You had drilled into Laura the importance of kisses. A kiss at the end of the text was vital.

You came out of your messages, having texted the others ‘night’.

Gambit: see ya tomorrow

El: Night, love x

Blade: night

It was a routine you all wouldn't dare abandon. Whether or not you lived in this apartment all your lives you knew you'd all stick to saying goodnight. You had done for five years.

You pressed on Logan's name and sent him a message.

“Why are you texting me?” Logan called through the wall. You could hear his footsteps, sitting up, you waited. It wasn't long before the door was opened and Logan revealed himself.

Jesus. H. Christ.

Why was he shirtless? Your brain short circuited whenever his wide chest and mouth watering abs were in view. His torso was covered in soft hair your fingers itched to grab.

“I-I was just saying ‘night’.” You snapped your jaw shut.

“Oh, I thought you needed me.” He ran a hand through his hair.

You liked his short hair but you missed his fluffy locks. Nothing better than running your hands through them.

You were both now just gazing at each other.

He looked glorious, you felt self conscious. He could literally be a Grecian God, you could picture statues being made in his honour.

“You wanna-” Your eyes darted away. “You wanna sit with me?”

Why were you so awkward?

This was your husband friend.

Logan’s eyes widened an inch but he did nod. “Yeah sure.”

He made his way to the right side and plonked down. His weight caused you to slide a little over but you quickly righted yourself. You plucked the remote off of your knees and turned David Bowie down.

“I wanted to thank you.” You fiddled with the remote. “And I'm sorry I've stolen your bed.”

Logan shrugged. “You weren't well and I'd never kick you out of my bed.”

He was admitting things that were as innocent as they were damning.

“You're cute.”

“Hmm.” He raised his brow. “I remember you claiming that.”

There wasn't much more to say, instead you both listened as ‘ashes to ashes’ changed to ‘modern love’.

“This was my favourite song.” You commented, leaning your temple on his shoulder.

“I remember.” He agreed.

Pulling your head up in shock, “you do?”

“Yeah.” His eyes glanced at the screen. “My Y/N liked it too.”

“Do you- is this weird?”

“I don't know.”

“Do you miss your Y/N?”

He considered the question. “I didn't have enough of her. I think I missed the 'what ifs' and now I know you and him were married, it feels worse. What about you?”

“I miss him, it is a little weird to see you walking around with his face. It's odd because we slept together and I am attracted to you but there's that obstacle. Now the world isn't ending, we have to face the consequences of our actions, you know?” You hoped he understood what you meant. “Is it wrong to want you? You are so much like him yet I don't know you.”

You had said a lot of really important things, however he was stuck on just one. “You want me?”

That caused you to chuckle. “Of course, look at yourself. Sex on legs.”

He didn't care for moral dilemmas the way you did. You wanted him. He wanted you. It may just be his animal brain but, surely, that was the end of it.

“I mean you almost killed me walking in here all shirtless and tanned.”

You were trying to joke to defuse the tension but his eyes told you it wasn't working. They were heavy, lidded and staring straight into your soul. “As if you in my shirt, in my bed, hasn't done the same.” He spoke directly to your lips.

Oh yeah. For quickness you had borrowed a shirt, using it as a nightie. “Please, I'm not nearly as gorgeo-”

He cut you off with a kiss.

You melted.

Of course you did.

It was Logan.

Your hands found his cheek and chest. Both threading through the respective hair.

Logan slid his tongue across your bottom lip in a silent question and you were quick to answer. He kissed you frantically, needing you more than oxygen.

You were slowly being pressed into the mattress. It was a perk of the Adamantium, he was heavier than he meant and that solid mass turned you on.

You had to break the kiss to catch your breath and he merely explored your neck. Your ragged breaths were now being cut off as you spluttered and gasped.

Fuck.

Your hand on his cheek had meandered to his nape where you tugged at the hair as you twitched in pleasure, your back arching.

What were you saying earlier?

Consequences of actions?

None of that mattered when he bit down.

The position that he had manoeuvred you in caused your left leg to wrap around his hip as he kept nipping your neck. He loved to mark you.

Even if he didn't ‘claim’ you as his, back in the day, everyone knew because he would mark you. It was the animal in him. He needed the world to know who you belonged to.

“Logan.” You let out a breathy whisper against his temple.

The man raised his head to gaze into your eyes. Fuck. They were blown wide.

“Tell me to stop.” He warned.

You couldn't. Why would you?

Your response was a silent head shake.

Logan's eyes landed back onto your lips and he dipped to devour them.

His hands, that had been at your sides, were moving in opposite directions. One slid up to rest just under your breast and the other travelled down. Fingers tickling a path down to your core.

He played with the waistband of your underwear, pulling it taught against you and watching the wet patch smear.

Logan smirked and kissed your chin, then your neck, your collar bone, spent a while on your chest - licking and biting, claiming you, yet again - and then your stomach and finally kissed the material just above your core.

He swiped his tongue along the fabric and barely loosened his hold, before tearing it with his teeth.

By fuck.

This man would kill you one day.

The torn fabric hung loosely as he nuzzled his way between your folds, forcing your thighs over his shoulders. His nose separated the slick lips as he then ran his tongue across them. He fluttered his tongue around the wet hole and collected the slick on his muscle before depositing it on your clit. He took extra care caressing the sensitive bud, swirling his tongue sweetly.

The noises that came out of your mouth were whorish, you sounded like a two-bit 80s porn star and he loved every one.

Eventually Logan added a finger to your hole, it eased in, and curled it as he pumped his hand.

You tried so hard to keep it down, to try to sound less pornographic, but he was a monster. He knew how to get you going. In fact you were on the verge right now. Any second you'd be cumming on his finger.

“Keep going.” You begged.

Logan hummed in response and it vibrated your clit.

“Fuck, do that again.”

He began humming as he added a second finger and you saw stars. You clamped down and let out a moan as you came.

He kept pumping his fingers and lapped up your slick until you groaned and tapped his shoulder to give you a moment's respite.

Logan stilled his tongue with a frown but kissed your thighs, biting the pillowy flesh.

“Shit.” You looked down, dazed, at his smug face. “Fuck, you're perfect.”

“I can take my time with you now.” He admitted. “I couldn't back in the Void, not like I wanted to.”

“You did a pretty good job then, too.” You recalled.

He rolled his eyes but continued placing languid kisses on your abdomen. “You are the perfect one. This pussy is delicious.”

His devotion caused you to bite your lip. “Fuck me.” You order.

“I like it down here.” He suggested nuzzling his nose on your clit.

Your argument died with the groan that forced its way out of you.

He sucked at your clit and you swore you ripped strands of his hair out. It was a shame because his hair was so soft.

Logan lapped at your pussy all he wanted, building you up slowly.

“Do me a favour?” He spoke between your folds, they muffled him a little. “Hands and knees?”

You nodded, deliriously and eased your way up, spinning to present yourself like a needy bitch.

Logan growled at the sight, your dripping pussy spread for him.

He buried his face, again, but carried on upwards. His tongue now circling your other hole. You twitched at the new sensation but found you enjoyed it just as much so let him have his fun.

He kept playing with you, teasing you with his fingers until you were shaking.

“Logan.” You warned.

He seemed to understand because he kept the same rhythm, rather than interrupting, and you came again.

He milked your orgasm again and licked a stripe from your clit to your ass, across your spine and back up to your neck.

“Mine.” He growled in your ear as you felt his tip line up. Both of his hands were on you, underneath his shirt, caressing your tits so it amazed you that you felt him notch and slowly ease his head into you.

Your eyes crossed in pleasure as he pulled out and pushed back in, the hole so wet it squelched louder than you could moan.

He huffed, unhappy with your shirt and ripped another item of clothing you were wearing. The shirt was discarded behind you but the waistband of your panties still sat on your hips, slowly moving higher with each thrust.

You knew he was holding himself back, afraid he'd hurt you, so as he pushed in you pushed back.

You cried out as he hit that spot inside you. “Harder.”

Logan caught your drift and picked up the pace. It really didn't take a lot of convincing.

He slammed into you from behind, pushing you further into the mattress, making you present yourself more.

He sat up and if he could die, he wanted this to be the last thing he saw.

You were amazing.

He collected all of your hair and eased you upwards, once again, nipping at your nape. There was something about the nape that transfixed him. He loved your smell and you smelt the most from your nape, he adored it but his own mingled with yours was something else entirely.

He needed you.

It was so painfully obvious.

How had he not admitted that to his version of you?

What a fucking idiot he was.

“Lo.” You could only say his name but he knew. You were close.

“Mmhmm.” He agreed, nibbling your earlobe. “I need another one, c’mon.”

You couldn't even hear his request over your third orgasm. This was different though. This was wetter. You instantly worried, what was happening? But Logan gasped.

“Fuck.” He stuttered inside you, pushing you down as his claws made an appearance at each side of your shoulders. “Fuck did you just squirt?”

“I-I don't know.” Your voiced muffled into the pillow, a hand patted your utterly soaked legs. “I've not done that before.”

He groaned, still rocking inside you. Logan held himself up via his claws and pounded into you with a whole new energy. He was frantic, frenzied. It didn't take long for him to spill inside.

His claws still barely held his weight but he wouldn't crush you.

“Shit, sorry.” He spoke once his senses returned. “I should've as-”

“Shut up, that was more than fine.” You panted against the pillow.

Logan kissed your temple and slowly retracted from the mattress and you. As soon as he was out you felt empty.

“Hmm.” You grumbled.

“What?” He chuckled.

“Put it back in.”

Logan knew you were real but he found himself in disbelief that someone this perfect could exist.

“Let's swap positions and I will.” He flopped over onto his spine and you followed sheathing his dick back into you.

You groaned and found yourself relaxing onto his chest.

This was possibly the best day you'd ever had.

“I'm sleepy but wake me up in an hour and we can do that again.” You gave him a cheeky wink.

Part 7

@geeksareunique @lovelyvaderx @melissa-ashe @st1nkabutt @maximumchilddreamland @ravenmedows @vulgarfuckinvirgo77 @bisasterbisexual @tzurue @narniansmagic @seamlessepiphany

[ashiemochi]

hey bestie <3

I’d like to request a birthday smut with death island! Leon please and thank you 💕

wrote this on phone bc im on a trip and my phone is actually starting to drop dead so </3 time for a new phone ig. But!! here's something 💕 (don't point out mistakes or weird formatting, my phone is ASS)

Leon never liked being late in any way.

Traffic was his arch nemesis because it always resulted to him getting late to work – which also resulted in numerous lectures from his higher-ups.

Another thing he hated; alarms.

Those fuckers either don't do their jobs or are just for show – or maybe he should be getting a new phone or an actual rooster to cock-a-doodle-doo at the glimpse of the sunrise.

Late to events were even worse than mundane things. The amount of times the President would give him a look that simply said "you're late and I'm not impressed" were endless. It wasn't like he had much of a choice when he'd be fresh out of a mission or an assignment that he'd wear the wrong colour of suit, or mismatch his socks in a hurry.

Not to mention. Fucking. Traffic.

However, there was one thing Leon for sure hated the most, absolutely revolted at the idea.

Missing your birthday.

Much to his shitty worse line of luck, he was ordered to rush to the Alcatraz Island for an assignment. To his luck, some deranged guy with a bucket load of issues and untreated trauma decided on a random Sunday at church that he was going to be playing God and start an outbreak via mosquitoes.

Leon was never going to catch a break. All the time at the island, the agent couldn't stop thinking about how to make it up to you. Even when he was infected with the virus and minutes away from losing his last bits of humanity, you were on his mind all the time.

When he returned home, you had opened the door to a bruised and bandaged up Leon with a bouquet of roses in hand. A tired but apologetic tilted grin was on his face, his side leaning against the doorframe.

"Happy... Late birthday, sweetheart..."

While he didn't expect you to be mad at him, a tiny nagging something within him relaxed when you were nowhere near upset. Your worry and glee that he was back in one piece made you forget about your birthday, your arms residing around his neck into a tight embrace where his arms went for your waist – where they belonged.

But the flowers weren't his only way of apologizing – because what started as a simple reunion kiss turned into something more and hotter.

"Oh, fuck..."

His voice was breathy right next to your ear, nearly over clouding the creaking sounds of the bed. His skin was searingly hot against yours, your body painted with hickies and lovebites. Galaxies and nebulas in all the right spots, painless and painful.

Yet they were tomorrow's problem.

His hand was pinning your wrist to the mattress, the other gripping the back of your knee to push it back against your chest. His fingers were digging into your flesh, his hips moving in a perfectly powerful rhythm that had your mind reeling.

"Oh, god... Ah, Leon–nhh~" Your moans were his favourite sound. A sex playlist would usually be on, but on nights like these, it'd be just you and him.

His cock was diving into your pussy, emitting that moist gushing noise the harder he moved. Your clit was throbbing with how intense the pleasure was for you, bringing you a lot closer to yet another orgasm. You really tried to keep track of how many times Leon had made you cum, but after four, everything just became a mixed haze of lust and longingness.

Leon grunted lowly, his blueblue eyes observing your expressions sharply. His lips were parted for your own favourite sounds, his groans and growly moans sending shivers to your core; red and swollen from the countless hickies on your body and kissing you.

Those lips of yours were absolutely intoxicating.

The blunt tip of his bigbig cock was slamming into your walls, going almost rogue as your arousal and previous orgasms dripped and dropped to the drenched sheets.

You never knew you could squirt, but Leon was confident in his skills. It took time, and god was it worth it.

Your face was flushed, your free hand on his back with your nails digging into him. You could feel his toned muscles flexing and shifting right beneath his skin. Your gaze trailed up to him, your moans and soft whines escaping nonstop.

"L–Le– f–fuck, you're too," You keened, your other leg wrapping around his waist, whimpering as your walls squeezed hard on his thick dick, "deep!"

"Oh, yeah?" Leon muttered, the corner of his lips irking upwards into an amused smirk.

That was the last thing you heard before he released your wrist only to switch his grip to your other leg. He hooked both legs into either of his elbows, pushing them onto his shoulders and easily tugging you close to him his figure towering over you completely. His cock hit that spot in you, bringing stars to your eyes with a hitched squeak.

His whole length was inside, especially when he leaned over you, causing his pelvis to brush against your needy pearl. His hands returned to your waist to keep you pinned in place, his hips relentless as he pounded into you.

"Mmh, that's deeper, isn't it, honey?" Leon hummed, his thrusts growing ruthless as he fucked you with vigour, pushing a moan from him, "Oh, fuck... You're just so fucking wet and tight for me..."

"Nnh! Oh, g–god! Leon!" You cried out, your body starting to tremble and your arm joined the other around his back, your nails forming angry red crescent moons, "S–shit!"

The pleasure was looming once again, the knot within you tightening more and more. Leon's hips were out of his control, revealing he was just as close to his peak as you were.

Leon groaned, his eyes screwing shut for a second as he felt your walls starting to clasp around his cock as if trying to feel every ridge and bulging vein on it. His toes curled up on the bed sheets, his thighs tensing.

"Oh, fuck, fuck..." Leon let out a choked sound, his desperation to release causing his voice to break and hitch into a lower octave.

"Leon, I–" Your moans cut you off, whining as your legs trembled over his shoulders, "'m gonna, ah!"

Leon's lustful eyes found yours, for a second his love for you spilling through the thick dirty haze and he couldn't help but feel every so grateful for having someone to return home to.

Someone to fight for when the world's going to shit.

His lips met yours hard in a searing heated kiss, your breathless moans making it a bit difficult but it all felt just right. It ticked you off first when he dove his cock to the hilt, pistoning into your squelching cunt and pressing up against your clit.

A loud moan went muffled, swallowed by him as he groaned against your lips. The white-hot pleasure rattled your bones, coiling around your muscles at the intensity that your back arched off the bed. Your gushy walls clamped tight around his cock, consequently pushing him straight to the peak he craved.

His lips parted from yours to push his face into the crook of your neck, his hips stuttering to a stop flush against yours as if trying to keep his twitching cock as deep he could. His groan was, if not, just as loud even when he obviously tried to stay quiet. His cum spurted out thickly, filling you up so good and so warm. You could almost feel it in your tummy at this point.

A shaky exhale escaped from him, his hips moving again but at a slower pace, gently riding you both down from your cloud nine. He panted heavily as he moved his face away from your neck, his eyes shut as his lips peppered kisses from your jaw, cheek, inching closer to the corner of your lips before sealing them with his.

You faint hum merged with his, your hands kneeding and massaging against the angry scratches on his back. His hips retreated slowly, slipping his cock out that was still visibly twitching and his cum seaping and dripping from the red tip. A string of his climax connected between him and your abused cunt.

Leon parted from the kiss, his sweaty fringes dangling with the tips brushing against your forehead. One of his hands reached up to the side of your face, his gaze doing their usual scan to make sure you were okay and that he didn't go too far.

"I'm okay..." You whispered softly, your voice just as breathy as you brushing away his bangs which only dangled wetly about so your hand rested on his neck, your thumb tracing the stubble across his jawline, and with a faint giggle, "And I forgive you."

Leon chuckled, his eyes growing gentle as he caressed your sides gingerly, "Good, maybe I should start missing your birthdays a bit more, yeah?"

You huffed, lightly smacking his shoulder, "Don't push it."

"Yeah, yeah," He smiled before carefully setting your legs back onto the bed which they only fell limply, still shaking and he squeezed your thighs, "Okay, I'll get us water and something to drink, then we'll continue."

That made you blink, confused as you tilted your head to the side, watching him as he sat at the edge of the bed with his eyes trying to locate his boxers at least. With a soft groan, you pushed yourself up onto your elbows, giving him a puzzled look when he stood up and slipped on his undergarment.

"Continue?" You repeated, your heart starting to pound once again, "We're not done?"

Leon gave you a look as if you had grown another head and he approached you, his hand pressing into the pillow next to your head and the other tilting your chin up with just his index and thumb.

"Of course we're not done, birthday girl." Leon grinned, his nose brushing against yours, "Still gotta make up for our anniversary."

Way to go for Leon asking you to be his on your birthday.

[bradshawssugarbaby]

Neon Moon - Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

summary: You're drowning your sorrows after calling off your engagement on Valentine's Day in a Mexican restaurant in San Diego. Alongside you, Bradley Bradshaw sits at the bar, going through a similar situation.

A/N: my first attempt at writing something a little angsty, I’m not overly confident in it but I was drunk on strawberry margaritas in San Diego last night after spending the day in Coronado so here we are. Also definitely inspired by my own past relationship 🌚 And inspired by Neon Moon by Brooks and Dunn. Also sorry for the whacky spacing because I’m posting from my phone! - not beta read or proofread bc I live life in the danger zone.

pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x f!reader

warnings/content: cheating (not Bradley or reader), failed engagements/breakups, mentions of divorce, drinking, angsty-ish with a happier ending.

word count: 3.5K

read the rest of my What’s Your Country Song mixtape series! 🩷

if you lose your one and only, there’s always room here for the lonely, so watch your broken dreams dance in and out of the beams of a neon moon.

You sat at the bar, sighing heavily as you snacked on the free, fresh tortilla chips and salsa, nursing your pink margarita, the notes of strawberry and tequila doing everything in its power to alleviate the pain of your latest breakup. You know alcohol isn’t a miracle worker, but by God, at this point you’re beginning to wonder. Your ex-fiancé just called off your wedding, and left you wondering why on earth you ever agreed to move thousands of miles from home to San Diego for a man who barely had his shit together.

You fiddled with the straw in your glass, sipping the strawberry-laden drink back, the tequila burning your throat slightly as it went down. It was getting late in the evening, but you were willing to stay here a couple more hours until closing just to get the most amount of time away from your apartment as you could. You knew you’d have to face the inevitable, but you dreaded it. How could you not? How could anyone in their right mind choose to haul their ass back to the apartment their ex just called off their wedding ceremony in, where the person they’d loved just confessed they didn’t share that feeling that was supposedly mutual, that they’d grown weary of the marriage ideal that they’d proposed to you.

Your bartender shot you a sympathetic look when you walked in that night, sensing that you weren’t here celebrating Valentine’s Day like most of the patrons around you. He slid you a basket of fresh, warm, homemade tortilla chips and a cup of the restaurant’s in-house salsa, alongside a drink menu with an encouraging nod. You appreciated the kindness towards you, even if it was just out of pity. As the bar side became less busy as the night went on, he asked how you were doing, if you needed anything else, if you wanted to order a meal. You hemmed and hawed over whether or not authentic Mexicali food was the solution to all of your problems when the seat to your right suddenly gained a patron - a single patron who looked just as downtrodden, if not more so, than you.

“Bradley!” The bartender said cheerfully, a hearty smile on the man’s face as he grabbed a pint glass, “Your usual, my friend?”

“Please, and just keep ‘em comin’, man,” said the voice beside you.

Bradley was a tall man, with a neatly trimmed mass of warm, golden-brown waves on top of his head, sun kissed skin and a pair of aviator sunglasses resting on the collar of his white t-shirt. Over the white undershirt, sat the loudest printed Hawaiian shirt you’d ever laid your eyes on - a bubblegum pink coloured background with an assortment of bright white, black and deep orangey-red palm leaves adorning it. A few faded scars scattered the side of his face, barely noticeable unless he tilted his head just so in the warm yellow-hued lights overhead. His fuller lips were resting in an emotionless line, a trimmed and styled mustache, straight out of an 80’s movie resting over the top of his lip.

As Bradley and the bartender, whose name you’d now forgotten after your second margarita, not that it was ever going to stick in your mind in the first place - you were stressing over how to tell 150 guests that a wedding was no longer taking place simply because the man who asked you had decided he no longer loved you, and despite having felt that way for quite some time, opted to tell you three months before your big day, after a majority of things were paid for, almost all of which non-refundable, meaning you’d be enjoying a wedding cake for 150 people at a venue by yourself, celebrating some other occasion in a couple of months.

You couldn’t help but overhear the bartender give Bradley the same words of encouragement as he’d given you - reminding you both that “que sera sera, whatever will be will be”, a direct quote from an old Doris Day song that you recognized from the times your grandmother made you watch her collection of Alfred Hitchcock VHS tapes, along with all the other classic movies you were subjected to. Bradley offered a weak smile, nodding his head along to the advice.

“I don’t know, man, she definitely isn’t coming back. I don’t think I want her to either. Came home from three months away to get told she was off base and in Coronado for the day, I decided to surprise her and find her having a lunch date with some lower-ranking officer.”

“That’s harsh, brother,” the bartender nods sympathetically before his brown eyes light up, as if Bradley’s cheating significant other has inspired him in some way.

“Actually, my friend, the lovely senorita on your left side has something in common with you,” he explained as he shot you a grin before nodding his head, “My friend Bradley here was married. You both are nursing the same pain tonight. Might not be a bad idea for you two to nurse that pain together, especially since we close in an hour.”

Bradley’s face flushed to a pinkish hue as he shot his friend a glare before turning to you with an apologetic, half-hearted smile.

“No offense, I’m sure you’re great, I just…caught my wife out with another officer over the bridge at Coronado and I really don’t know if drinking with another girl is the right thing to do.”

“Understood, my fiancé just called off our wedding because he decided three months before was a good time to tell me he’d fallen out of love with me nine months ago and no longer wanted to go through with it.”

“Ah, maybe Angel over here is on to something then,” Bradley let out a melancholic chuckle as he took a sip of his beer, the amber coloured liquid sliding past his lips, the froth at the top brushing against the edge of his mustache.

“I’m, uh, I’m sorry to hear about your wife,” you nodded, suddenly thankful as you realized if your ex hadn’t broken things off now, you could have easily wound up in the same position as Bradley is now in a few years.

“It’s alright, had a feelin’ she wasn’t really loving the military spouse life as much as she let on, but didn’t think that meant she’d find a different serviceman to try it on with while I was gone and stationed in the middle of the Pacific.”

“Jesus, that’s rough, I’m sorry.”

“Eh, not your fault. I’m Bradley, by the way. Normally I’d do the whole formal military introduction but…just Bradley is fine tonight. I kinda need a break from that for a minute.”

“Understood.”

You nodded again before giving him your name. An awkward silence fell over you both before you looked out towards the patio, the lights along the pier illuminating the San Diego Bay as you looked across to Coronado.

“That’s where I’m stationed,” Bradley nodded his head towards the island across the bay as he took another sip of his beer, “North Island.”

“You’re an aviator?”

“TOPGUN graduated, been flyin’ for just over 20 years now.”

“20 years?”

“Yeah,” Bradley blushed, nodding his head, “I’m 40 in June. I get told I look about 10 years younger than that. A lot. Especially by other guys over there. The one guy in my detachment’s about 5 years younger than me and everyone says he looks closer to my age than I do. Not as a dig to Hangman or nothin’, just as an observation that I kinda look fresh to the Navy, you know?”

“Hangman…?” You raised your eyebrow quizzically at the name he just called his friend, almost concerned about his parents' life choices.

“Real name’s Jake. Everyone calls us using callsigns over there - his is Hangman, but if we wanna piss him off, he’s Bagman. I’m Rooster. One guy’s just Bob, one girl’s Phoenix, another girl’s Halo, then there’s Payback, Fanboy, Coyote, Harvard and Yale, Fritz, my dad’s Navy buddy is Maverick, our Air Boss is Cyclone, it goes on.”

“Why is your callsign Rooster?”

“Eh, my dad’s sign was Goose. They asked me to pick one and I wanted to honor him, but I couldn't use the same one I figured, so I went for the first bird I could think of. They were gonna call me Boomer because I’m loud as fuck half the time, but I guess I have a bit of a reputation for waiting until the moment’s right to take action. One guy said that I sorta sit perched like a rooster waiting for the sun to rise, and it stuck more than Boomer did.”

“Gotcha. Are you from San Diego?”

“Sorta. I was born here, my dad was stationed up at Miramar which is on the other side from Coronado, but then he died when I was two in a training accident, my mom moved me back to where she was from in Virginia, it’s where she met my dad, actually. He was from Virginia but like, closer to the D.C. area, my mom was from Richmond. Then I grew up there, went to UVA, and got stationed at Virginia Beach, went to TOPGUN in Nevada and then got sent back to Virginia, then from there got called to North Island.”

“So you’ve lived in a few states then. I moved out here from New York a couple years ago. My ex is from La Jolla, came to New York for university, met me, got a job in the city, then got an offer to work here, and came back, took me with him.”

“So your family’s all back in New York?”

“Yeah, bit far, like a 6 hour flight home.”

“Jesus, I may not have much for family, but at least I know I’ve got my squad to kinda support me. And I’ve got Maverick, who’s like a second dad to me.”

“I’m still debating what to do - do I stay in San Diego and just make this my home now, or do I go back to Manhattan with my tail between my legs so to speak and move back in with my parents?”

Bradley nodded his head solemnly before letting out a sharp exhale, a smile forming on his face as he looked out at the bay and then back at you.

“Whatdya say we go for a walk? Catch some fresh air? Maybe we can help each other figure out our next moves so poor Angel here can close up for the night.”

Bradley must have sensed some apprehension in your gaze, because almost seconds after speaking, he held his hands up innocently and laughed.

“I promise I’m not suggesting this out of an ulterior motive. Just suggesting it as a guy who’s sorta in the same boat as you and could use some company.”

You looked at your watch and shrugged your shoulders. You certainly didn’t want to head home any time soon, and Bradley seemed genuine enough, plus, it was nice having someone who understood what you were going through, even if it meant both of you now had to completely reevaluate your lives. You set your credit card down on the table for Angel to ring up your bill, but before he could take it, Bradley shook his head and handed it back to you.

“It’s on me.”

“I can’t let you pay for my drinks, but thank you.”

“Listen, it was money that was gonna be spent on my wife for a Valentine’s Day dinner anyway. Least I can do is pay for your two…pink…whatever those are.”

“Strawberry margaritas.”

“Right, yeah, those. Pink tequila with fruit.”

He smirked as he closed out the tab for both of you before hopping off his barstool. He politely offered his arm out to you as you stood to your feet. Angel shot you both a knowing grin, waving you and his friend off as you headed out. The air on the pier was mild, a soft breeze blowing in off the water of the bay. As you headed down the street together, chatting about life and what you did for a living, Bradley’s rank in the Navy, his favorite sports, your favorite movies, you almost forgot about your ex and the breakup you’d been trying to numb with fruity heartache medication moments ago.

As it turned out, you and Bradley shared a fond love of baseball and romantic comedies, you’d both grown up watching classic movies with your grandmothers, both had a fondness for old music - Elvis, The Beach Boys, Jerry Lee Lewis, Neil Sedaka - it turned out that for two strangers with a 12 year age gap, you had much more in common than you could have expected. In fact, you’d actually argue that you and Bradley had more shared interests than you and your ex had.

As you both wandered up the street towards Seaport Village, the bayside shopping district set up alongside one of the piers, you basked in the glow of the streetlights over head, taking the time to appreciate the calmness of the bay, the sights and sounds of the water as it took your focus off the happy, lovestruck couples that walked around past you all.

The moon hung low in the sky overhead, glowing against the deep blackish-blue backdrop of the night sky, appearing to have a neon glow behind it. Bradley looked up at the sky, letting out a loud, exhaled breath as he shook his head.

“I don’t wanna head back to base and deal with the mess waiting for me there. Never thought I’d be filing divorce papers on Valentine’s Day, you know?”

“I have to call 150 guests and tell them that the wedding scheduled for May isn’t taking place but they can still come eat the cake that we paid for at the venue that I can’t get the 50% deposit back for.”

Bradley laughed softly, although the laugh wasn’t one of happiness - more one of pity for the two of you over your situations, and how neither of you wanted to go home because it would mean taking action with the hands you were dealt, no matter how unfair they were.

“Fuck, how’d we end up in this mess? I guess I should be thankful that she and I never had kids then, right?”

He laughed again, a dry, hollow laugh at his situation. “I wanted them, she didn’t. I just figured in my late thirties that it wasn’t really an issue worth pushing and it was probably best if I didn’t.”

“My dad was 44 when I was born, I never thought it was weird, if that helps.”

“Hey, means I’ve got 4 years, right? Can’t really adopt a kid when you’re in the Navy though, with not being home a lot and all that, and I don’t know if I see myself remarrying or anything. Besides, I feel like it’s asking a lot of a woman to settle down with me then have her waiting at home alone most of the time, or alone with our kids, if we have ‘em. Seems a bit unfair. I guess I could retire but, I don’t know if I’m ready for that either, you know?”

“You just have to find someone who wants to wait for you. You know, someone who doesn’t mind being a military spouse.”

“Good luck with that,” He said with a dry chuckle again, “I wouldn’t wanna be one if the shoe was on the other foot, it’s a lot of me to ask someone else to do it.”

“Well, I’m not suggesting you ask a random girl on the street to marry you, Bradley, I meant like, date, get to know the woman, find out from there if she’s cool with it.”

“I guess so,” He sighed heavily as he looked up at the moon, “You know, always thought I’d have a marriage like my parents did. I know my dad died before I was really old enough to remember, but I see pictures and you just…you knew they were crazy about each other. Maverick always said they flirted like they were a couple’a teenagers on their first date all the time.”

“Bradley, do you wanna come grab a coffee with me?”

“Coffee? It’s like nine at night.”

“Yeah, I could use some sobering up though.”

“Ah, what the hell. I don’t have to be anywhere.”

Bradley gestured in front of him, allowing you to lead the way. As you began to walk on the outside of the sidewalk, he shook his head and gently placed his hand on your shoulder to guide you to the inside.

“Sorry, force of habit. My mom always said not to let a lady walk on the outside of the sidewalk. She said my dad never let her risk getting splashed by a puddle when they walked down the street. Sorta trained it into me by the time I was 10. Maverick and my grandma both agreed. Think it’s an old Southern thing.”

“It’s fine, I don’t mind it,” you smiled softly at him, rolling your shoulders into a subtle shrug.

Bradley smiled at you, a genuine, proper smile. His previously stoic and reserved look had melted away momentarily, deep dimples forming either side of his mouth. Bradley’s caramel coloured eyes seemed to glisten as the moonlight caught them, amber flecks sparkling before he shook his head, an awkward chuckle escaping his parted lips.

“You know, I gotta thank you.”

“Why’s that?”

“You helped me forget temporarily about what I have to do tonight when I get home.”

“I guess I should thank you for the same thing.”

“I haven’t felt this at ease in…a really long time. I guess I always kinda suspected she was cheating, but I didn’t want to believe it. I mean, no one wants to think that way about someone they love, right?”

“No, no, I get it. I sorta knew my ex wasn’t feeling the same way. I just told myself I was overthinking it. He never said anything until today.”

“He told you today that he didn’t love you anymore? Today of all the days?!”

“Yeah, came home from a half day at work to spend the afternoon with him, just to come home to him doing the classic “We need to talk” line.”

Bradley hummed slowly and shook his head. He ran a finger through his caramel toned waves and sighed, trying to think of what the right thing to say in response would be.

“Shit, I’m sorry.”

Bradley silently opens the door to the coffee shop for you, once again gesturing for you to go first. You can’t help but admire the way everything he does seems like something out of a movie set in the 1950s - his mannerisms, the slight lilt to his voice, the way he holds doors open, offers you his arm, insists on walking on the outside of the sidewalk - all for a woman he’s only just met. It’s likely sympathetic actions towards you - feeling bad that you’re in a situation similar to his own, at least, that’s what you’re going to tell yourself.

“Pick your poison, I owe you one for the margaritas.”

“Nah, I’ll pick up this one. Like I said, it was set aside for a nice romantic Valentine’s dinner. I got it.”

“You know, under any other circumstances, this would have made for a cute date spot.”

“Margaritas and coffee?”

“I meant a nighttime stroll along the pier to a coffee shop, but now that you mention it, margaritas and coffee are one way to do it.”

“Hey, I mean, maybe this isn’t a date, I don’t think either of us are ready for that, but, it’s a nice first time hanging out.”

“Maybe the next time we hangout we can do it under less…distressing circumstances?”

“Maybe next time we hangout I can take you out for that nice dinner you and I both were expecting to have tonight,” Bradley shrugged as he sipped his coffee. “You know, as friends, or whatever.”

“You know what, I may take you up on that. You know, as friends…or whatever.”

Bradley slid his phone across the table to you, having opened it to the new contact screen. You quickly typed in your contact details, smiling fondly as you handed it back to him, along with your own phone.

“Next time you venture across the bridge, maybe text me? We can go for a coffee or something, or catch a ball game when the season starts.”

“I’d like that,” Bradley said with a satisfied smile as he sipped his drink.

“But this time, I’m buying.”

[baw-sixteen]

would've could've should've - dr3

pairings: daniel ricciardo x op81 social media manager! reader

they could've been so much more

July 9, 2023

You stared at the picture in the darkness of your hotel room. You should've known. Everyone was talking about it.

Nyck has had a terrible rookie year so far. Knowing Marko, knowing Red Bull they needed more. More points, more perfection.

You couldn't say you weren't happy. You were happy. For him. You were elated.

Daniel loved racing. He had told you that before. You had felt it - every time he got into that Mclaren, every time he had done a better score than before.

He wasn't jobless. No. He could never be. Not till the day Christian Horner was still alive. You knew that.

You see the news yet?

You sat up on the bed. That empty feeling inside you shifted at the text.

The last few weeks were bad. Bad for Oscar. Bad for Mclaren.

Bad for you.

But who cared about that?

Oscar was good. He was very easy to handle. He was less trouble than Daniel.

The few people who cared about the fans' backlash had suddenly dropped to one. You were just a social media manager.

I would've stayed on my knees.

And I damn sure never would've danced with the devil

But he wasn't Daniel.

He could never be what you two were.

Yeah.

You did.

You had seen the news.

___________________________________________

"I'm sorry"

A very tired Michael stared at you.

"What's there to be sorry about, yn?"

You laughed. You actually laughed.

The fans were incredibly intelligent you'd give them that. The theories that you, Michael, Yuki and Lando had read on the internet were crazy.

All this time, both you and Michael had got a lot of backlash from the fans. All because you loved your job more than him. All because Mike wanted to share a bit about him to the fans.

And now that I know, I wish you'd left me wondering

Believable. But crazy.

They said you were draining him off his money. That Michael starved him. Gave him severe training. Just to make him perfect.

There was not a single bone in his body you wanted to change. For the better or for the worse. It's what made you fall in love with him.

How you wished sometimes you could just scream it at the world that he already was perfect.

If clarity's in death, then why won't this die?

His smile. His charm. His stupidity. His laugh.

That scar on his knee. Or that cut on his chin.

You loved all of him.

"I don't know what I'm gonna do when I see him."

You always had.

Years of tearing down our banners, you and I

He was tired too.

"I heard he didnt ask Pyry for training?"

"No. Says he doesn't need it. Doesn't need anyone. A lone wolf."

"Lone wolf, my ass."

A small smile graces both of your faces. No matter what he said. You knew him better.

Memories feel like weapons.

The moment you walked into the hotel your eyes caught him. Head thrown back with a laugh louder than the fans outside. Smile brighter than the Hungarian morning.

"Yn!"

All eyes fell on you as Lando waved you over from where he was sitting among the drivers in the lobby.

The world felt like it stopped as honey coloured irises met yours.

The eyes that once spoke forever to you, were cold, dark - they were trying to drown you in them, choke you with your own guilt.

You heart felt like it shattered into a million pieces as he looked away from you and turned back to where Max was sitting.

And the God's honest truth is that the pain was heaven

You could hear Lando saying something but you felt dizzy. Tears started to blur your eyes as that pounding in your chest grew louder and louder.

"I'll speak to you later Lando."

You forced your shaky voice to speak as your feet carried yourself to the elevator as fast as they could. But what your retreating figure could notice was the way he shivered.

Your voice still had an effect on him.

God rest my soul, I miss who I used to be.

The tomb won't close, stained glass windows in my mind

A sob erupted from your throat the moment the elevator door closed. Hot, steaming tears rolled down your face.

The wound won't close, I keep on waiting for a sign

As long as Daniel Ricciardo was going to be around, you would never be the same.

I regret you all the time

Oh Daniel, we could've been so much more.

Could've, Would've, Should've.

____________________________________________

author's note: hi everyone!! well here it is!! since you wanted a part 2!!

[actual-changeling]

I was once again re-watching good omens, and I once again realized something incredibly painful, so welcome back to

Alex's unhinged meta corner.

I really need to make a masterpost at some point.

You see, the very first episode not only foreshadows their last argument, it also tells us exactly why it will happen and what problem/offer they will have to face.

We don't usually pay much attention to it because it's a) in the very first episode and then doesn't come up again and b) we know that Crowley would never accept it.

My realization is that Beelzebub's offer mirrors the Metatron's. Both Crowley and Aziraphale are given the same kind of opportunity—but one says no and the other says yes.

Let's have a look!

This is not going to be chronological but more of a go with the flow thing because the aspects are the same but they don't appear in the same order.

The most obvious part first: the job offer itself.

Beelzebub offers him a promotion and later on specifies that he can be a Duke of Hell, one of the few people in charge. I believe that if Gabriel and Beez' plan had been to run away together from the very beginning, ze would have offered Crowley zir own job as Prince of Hell. Still, being a Duke would probably put him in a standing similar to Michael or Uriel's.

The Metatron obviously offers him the job of Supreme Archangel, which is the highest possible position for an angel to hold, aka it's the same promotion, just different colours.

Both offers also stem from the exact same problem—Gabriel is gone.

Now, Beelzebub and the Metatron aren't stupid, they know that they need to convince them to take it, they have to embellish it and play with their wants and fears.

Beelzebub presumably makes the correct assumption that Aziraphale is hiding Gabriel or that the two of them are somehow involved (because they always are), and while ze uses it as a threat/warning, the Metatron takes what is now fact and uses it in the opposite way.

Additionally, ze trusts Crowley to not only deliver Gabriel back to zem but to take care of him until he's safe and sound with his partner.

'I trust you with him' -> 'He trusted you with himself'.

I will now do a little jump to the last part of Aziraphale's conversation with the Metatron right in front of the lift. Once again, they appeal to a characteristic Crowley and Aziraphale share.

'You know earth and that is a useful asset.' What has previously been punished and was seen as a weakness—what is he, he has gone native, you've been down here for too long—is now praised.

It's good that you know earth, we see that you are worth something, you are different but that is good now.

Crowley does not care about that at all, he gives exactly zero fucks about what hell thinks of him, but Aziraphale? Who has been trying to impress the Archangels for six thousand years and been humiliated by them during Armageddon? This is what he has been craving all along, respect for his job on earth and to be recognized as a Good Angel.

Well, that was the carrot, time for the stick: threats.

They remind them of their respective status—they're both traitors, personae non gratae, and they could still be punished for that. After the trial, they were largely left alone, but they drew attention to themselves again, they became a problem.

The Metatron is more subtle, as usual. He knows that Aziraphale lied his ass off several times, including directly in front of God. This is not a just compliment, it's a threat—I know who you are and I have the power to make you feel that

'You don't just tell people what they want to hear.' Again, they are sitting at this table and both know that the opposite is true, and the Metatron is both using it to threaten him and to establish the clear expectations he will have for him should he take the job. Also, by saying he thinks Aziraphale is those things, he gives him more praise, more respect.

Both sides know that Aziraphale and Crowley are each other's biggest weakness; they want to be safe and together. I think it is clear what kind of threat/danger Beez is presenting Crowley, but we rarely talk about the fact that the Metatron also threatens him, just not as explicitly.

Aziraphale will be destroyed if they find Gabriel with him, and Crowley cannot let that happen. However, contrary to heaven, hell has more or less known about the two of them for decades, and they never actually cared about the arrangement as long as the job got done. They punished Crowley when he did good deeds aka not his fucking job but the opposite.

'I know you care about him, he's at risk if you don't help me find him.'

The Metatron on the other hand makes it clear that HE specifically knows about him and Crowley, and Aziraphale did not know who exactly was privy to that information and if it reached the Metatron. Not just that, he emphasizes that he has been doing research on them, he can dig up whatever dirt he likes and then kill them both.

No one would be able to stop him.

This next part is going to be interesting because it is a parallel that Aziraphale doesn't and currently wouldn't be able to see, while Crowley does see it very, very clearly.

When the Metatron tells Aziraphale he can take Crowley with him to heaven and make him an angel again, that is good news to him! It is PERFECT! It would solve out of his problems, and who wouldn't want to be an angel, on the side of good?

Everything the Metatron did up to this point, from 'saving' them from punishment at the hand of the Archangels, over getting him coffee, to giving twisted praise, has had one primary objective: Get Aziraphale to trust him.

It worked. Consequently, Aziraphale does not question what he tells him now, and believes that he truly could take Crowley with him and make him an angel again. He has no concept of what falling actually means, and what it meant for Crowley in particular, so he cannot discern the threat within it.

Yet when he presents it to Crowley, who is horrified and rightfully so, we are once again shown that no, Aziraphale does not understand. Crowley does, though. That angel he was no longer exists, he cannot go back to it because they're gone, and he would not want to either. Everything they have built on earth their life, their existence, would mean absolutely nothing and cease to exist.

Do you see the threat yet?

Here is what Beelzebub tells him, and what we are told over and over and over again throughout the season.

Erased from the book of life, gone from existence, everything they were, had, owned, lived—gone.

Erased from the book of life vs. turned back into an angel that doesn't exist anymore, that CAN'T exist again.

Put the threat and the 'offer' next to each other, and Crowley sees the same fate in both: His existence will be destroyed. Aziraphale, like I said above, doesn't. The book of life is a threat, but turning him into an angel is a blessing.

Right now, it doesn't matter whether the book of life really exists or if a demon can be turned back into an angel. What matters is that they both BELIEVE those things are real and possible, because that is what they act on, belief.

Beelzebub sends him away with bad news, the Metatron pushes Aziraphale to tell Crowley good news. Same offer, same possible outcomes (either they get to live together or one of them/both get destroyed), but entirely different responses.

Crowley says no. Aziraphale says yes.

Aziraphale thinks Crowley should have said yes.

Crowley thinks Aziraphale should have said no.

So. We know what happens next and personally, combing through all of this in detail only made it hurt worse!! If it did the same for you—you're welcome, I love my job.

[jeffy-reblogz]

You're extremely correct tbh I HATE Danganronpa's approach to character design so much (which sucks bc I used to be a megafan). Their designs either say nothing about the character, have little to do with their talent, are impractical and/or are literally just the same sexualised uniform but in a different colour it's so BORING. Like yeah they resemble drawn humans but did they have to have the most cluttered yet basic designs ever conceived???

I could go on about the lack of diversity both in outfit and body (Tenko and Maki are confirmed to be sort of muscular yet they're built exactly like the other girls in their game, everyone is so pale you'd think mihoyo was in the studio /lh, the ashiness of literally everything, the way almost everyone is a twig) but we'd be here all day. Sakura being a little pale girl in the past makes no fucking sense tho like what??????

the designs in danganronpa v3 bug me so MUCH why are so many of the girls wearing different color variants of the same goddamn sailor school girl uniform. why does rantaro just have a regular ass t shirt on. why is shuichi, a literal detective, somehow a less visually appealing protagonist than makoto, Just Some Guy. why is kaito. they were literally all given outfits SPECIFICALLY tailored to them and their talents at the start of the game. to make them all more interesting to look at for the viewers. and yet they are all somehow the most bland looking characters out of any of the danganronpa games how does that WORK how did they MANAGE

[carabalism]

in another life

pairing(s) carl grimes x fem!reader (platonic)

synopsis carl and y/n were best friends right from the start and they would die best friends too.

warning(s) death, angst, hurt no comfort

masterlist

a/n sorry this is actually kinda sad But oopsie (to the requests IM SO SORRY i will get to them)

“i had a feeling that you’d be too clingy to let me die alone,” carl’s laugh quickly turned into a wheeze as he felt his lungs tighten in his chest.

“please, you’re the one who’s always stealing my thunder,” y/n chuckled dryly, her hand reaching out to hold carl’s. they first met on a deserted highway moments before he lost his first friend in the apocalypse: sophia. god gave him a new friend that day just to snatch the other one away.

“yeah?” carl turned his head to look over at y/n. her face had lost its usual colour and vibrancy, the change was almost startling. carl wondered how he looked for a moment, did he look worse than her? was she okay?

“mhm,” y/n hummed turning to look back at him. they were both leaning their weight against the wall behind them, far too exhausted to sit up by themselves. carl and y/n had both been bit.

“i wish we had more time,” carl sighed, his gaze falling to his lap.

“everybody wishes they had more time, carl,” y/n laughed, leaning her head back, “don’t be so cliché.”

“cliché? you even know what that means?” carl’s breath was laboured, but he wanted to postpone his death for a few minutes. y/n and him never had much time to talk anymore, why not talk during their last moments.

“yeah,” y/n rolled her eyes, “the prison didn’t exactly have the best books, so i read a dictionary like five times.”

“you’re such a liar,” carl scoffed, shaking his head.

“you are being an imbecile,” y/n laughed softly, her hand twitching in carl’s, “that means stupid person.”

“if you had kids they would’ve been so damn annoying,” carl groaned as he readjusted himself against the wall, “so annoying.”

“your kids would’ve been losers,” y/n grinned, she could almost picture what his and enid’s kids would’ve looked like, “my kids would’ve kicked your kids asses.”

“i’d beat your kids asses then.”

“i’d beat your ass then.” y/n retorted.

the girl started to cough and when she pulled her hand away from her mouth, her hand was stained with red. the reality that one of them may turn before the other hit both of them in an instant.

“if i turn-“ y/n was interrupted by carl.

“stop it.” his voice was stern, but she could hear the pain in it.

“carl…” y/n sighed, leaning her head on his shoulder, “it’s gonna be one of us.”

“let’s just talk more?” carl’s voice was weak and fragile, he almost sounded the same way he did when y/n first met him. like a little boy.

“sure,” y/n breathed out, nodding despite the action causing her to feel nauseous, “what do you wanna talk about?”

“would you have had kids?” carl asked. there wasn’t much he wanted to talk about, but it felt like there was almost too much to talk about.

“nah,” y/n’s laugh was wheezy, it burned her chest to even laugh, “i’m more of a cool aunt, don’t you think?”

“yeah, you are,” carl chuckled, nodding his head slowly.

“did you want kids?” y/n asked.

“not now, but… i think i would’ve liked to.” carl hummed after he spoke, almost like he was contemplating it. what a sad thing for a dying boy to think about the life he could’ve had.

“your kids would’ve been cool, i lied earlier,” y/n shrugged, “a dad with a cool hat ‘n eyepatch? you’re kidding me, they’d be awesome.”

“what happens when i have two kids and only one hat?” carl joked, a sad smile on his face.

“pick your favourite, i don’t know,” y/n grinned, but as she sat in silence for a few seconds her smile faded. her body felt weak to the point it ached to even exist, but she didn’t want to leave carl so soon. she didn’t want him to be alone.

“i wrote you a letter,” carl confessed, his head lowered again, “i wrote everyone letters actually, i wrote one for you too though… but i didn’t expect you to be here with me.”

“what’d it say?” carl’s heart broke at the sound of her voice. she clearly had very limited time left and it brought a tear to his eye.

“i wrote,” he sighed, his hand reaching up his hip, hovering over his gun, “what i wrote was.. i’m grateful to have grown up with you.. and that i hoped you never felt lonely again, even after i’m gone… i love you, y/n.. you’re my best friend.. i asked you to tell judith about mom, tyreese, glenn, beth and hershel…”

“hope you told someone else to do that..” y/n rasped out, chuckling slightly.

“we’ll see each other again.” carl pulled his gun out and rested it on his lap, his fingers twitching against the cool metal.

“in another life?” y/n whispered, her eyes shutting as her chest rose and fell for the last time.

“in another life.”

[hapuchika]

Pretty little brat

I wanted to write a nice short story smut but my mom is staring at me from across the rooms so I'm pretending to work.

Warning: Smut, thigh riding, fingering, cunnilingus, multiple orgasms.

X--X--X--X--X

I just wanted to write about how Reader comes home to find grumpy Wanda.

Upon asking what their kitten wants for dinner all Wanda replies with is a huff and cold states that she'll be having macaroni and cheese.

"That's not the healthiest thing, kitten. How about we have something more nutritious? Vegetable lasagna sound good?" you ask, reigning in your frustration.

It was well known that you weren't the most patient person in the world and that if Wanda pushed you too hard, she'd have trouble sitting for weeks.

This time, however, Wanda didn't seem to care.

"I don't give a fuck about what's nutritious or not. I said I want Mac and cheese so you'll make me some fucking Mac and cheese." Wanda replied loudly.

Snap

You grabbed her by her collar and shoved her against the wall. You felt her breath hitch.

"Colour?" You asked

"Green" She whispered breathlessly. The gorgeous forest green of her eyes almost completely gone.

"Good girl for being honest" You whispered, nibbling at her earlobe.

You stepped back.

"Bedroom. Now." You commanded.

Within a second Wanda ran towards the bedroom, you decided to ignore how she practically skipped into the bedroom.

You waited in the hall, deciding to clean up the kitchen a little.

Eventually you strolled to the bedroom. You smirked upon seeing Wanda completely bare, sitting on her ankles with her palms against her thighs. Her eyes remained on the floor. Good. She knew she fucked up.

She looked at you innocently causing you to scoff.

You walked up to her, grabbed her throat and squeezed lightly. Smirking as you saw her eyes flutter and breath become shallower.

"You worthless little slut." You spat. "Who the fuck do you think you're talking to?"

She had the audacity to look at you in the eye and whisper "You"

Raising an eyebrow you threw her backwards. You slowly removed your clothes, leaving you in your lingerie. You noticed Wanda staring at your chest and not-so-subtly trying to rub her thighs together.

You slapped the fleshy part of her inner thigh causing Wanda to yelp.

"Shut up" you fumed

"If you act like a brat. Then I will treat you as such." You said, sitting down on the bed.

"Over my lap. Now" you commanded

She bent over, you almost groaned at the sight. God she was already dripping.

"Look at you making a mess on my thighs. You must have been so needy the entire day? Is that why you're acting like a brat? Because mommy wasn't there to take care of you?" You asked, rubbing those delicious cheeks. She merely whimpered

You slapped her ass causing her to yelp.

"Speak when spoken to, slut." You spat.

"Yes mommy" she said.

"Full sentences" You ordered.

She took a deep breath and continued "I'm sorry for acting bratty, mommy. I was a desperate little slut. Your desperate little slut. I acted out because I was needy and mommy wasn't here to take care of me. I'm so sorry mommy, please punish me for being bad. I'm sorry " You noticed her voice cracked as she finished her confession.

Immediately you had her straddle your thigh and your heart broke as you saw her defeated expression

You cupped her face with both your hands as you slowly stroked her cheeks. Unshed tears finally came out.

"You're not a bag girl, my love" you cooed. "Never a bad girl".

She looked at you uncertainly.

"A bratty pain in my ass? Sure" You continued.

She chuckled.

Looking at her adoringly, you slowly leaned in for a kiss. Humming softly, she kissed you back. You deepened the kiss as her arms wrapped around your neck, pulling you closer. You licked her lips asking for permission, one she readily gave. Your tongues fought for dominance for a while. Apparently her attitude not completely gone, something you whole heartedly loved. That fire within her was something you craved. Eventually, like always, you won. She moaned as she shifted slightly. When air became necessary you pulled back to see her hooded eyes looking at you. You didn't fail to notice the way her hips were slowly moving against your thigh. Smirking as a plan began to form in your head. You looked her in the eye and kissed her cheek. Grabbing her hips and pulling her down on your thigh harder.

She let out a surprised moan.

"Go ahead and make yourself feel good for mommy" You urged.

Nodding her head she moved her hips faster, grunting and panting.

A few moments later she tensed, her rhythm erratic. However she didn't slow down. Groaning she looked at you desperately.

"What's wrong baby? Can't make yourself cum without mommy's help?" you asked with faux sympathy.

Biting her lip she continued to rut against your thigh but nodded weakly.

You tilted your chin upwards, letting go of your grip on her hips. Try as she might, she wasn't able to maintain the rhythm and she looked at you pleadingly.

Smirking you gave a simple command. "Beg."

Immediately she spoke "Please mommy, please make me feel good. I can't cum without your help. Please mommy I'll be your good girl. I won't be a brat ever again just let me cum please"

Not bad, you thought.

You grabbed her hips and started dragging them along your thigh. She let out a breathy moan. You continued, slowly increasing the pace.

Her moans got louder and louder, her hands gripped your shoulder tight enough that you knew it'd leave marks the very next day.

The moment you angled her hips a little differently and tensed your thigh, she let out a shriek. Cumming all over your thigh. Not stopping until she stopped moving against you.

"Thank you mommy" She slurred, resting her head against your shoulder.

You let out a chuckle. "Oh darling girl, we've just begun"

Her eyes shot open at that, arousal already pooling deep in her belly.

You laid her down gently against the bed and slowly kissed her. She hurriedly removed your bra and panties.

"Someone's desperate for another" you noted.

She looked at you sheepishly "just wanna feel you" She mumbled.

You smiled. "Then feel me, you will."

You pressed your body against hers and slowly kissed up and down her neck. She let out a gasp as you kissed a particularly sensitive point. Her nails dug into your back as you inched lower, slowly paying attention to her breasts. A particular tug on her nipple caused her to let out a filthy moan.

"Please mommy" She pleaded. "Taste me, please"

You hummed in approval as you made your way down further.

Finally you witnessed her glorious wetness. You groaned as you licked a stripe up her pussy. She let out a loud whine, begging for more.

You slowly inserted your tongue inside her.

"Yes. Oh my fucking god yes. fuck. that feels so good" She breathed as you fucked her with your tongue, occasionally curling your tongue.

She let out a pornographic moan when you moved to suck her clit. Her hands gripping the sheets as her eyes squeezed shut.

You quickly inserted two fingers inside her and curled them against that sweet spot.

"FUCK. YES" She screamed, her back arched and her eyes rolling back.

She started babbling about not wanting you to ever stop as you increased your pace. The bed moving with how hard you were fingering her.

Her moans turned to screams the closer she got.

You knew she was at the precipice when her entire body tensed. You also knew what she was waiting for.

"Come for me, baby" You said and dove back to suck and lick her clit.

Her body shuddered, hips canting up as she let out screams of your name.

When she finally came down, you kissed her pussy gently, causing her to jerk a little.

You leaned forward and kissed her lips, she hummed against you as she tasted herself.

"Come on baby, let's have a bath." You said gently

She merely whined and cuddled further into you.

"Can't feel m'legs" she mumbled against your neck.

You chuckled.

"5 more minutes and then I'll pick you up and we'll relax in the bath, okay?"

She hummed in agreement and somehow managed to nuzzle further into you.

God the things you would do for this girl.

X--X--X--X--X

This is my first ever time writing detailed smut!

Please let me know how I did!

Hope you enjoyed

[wintersera]

business issues || ceo!kimlip x ceo!reader

notes: i had sm fun writing this i cant lie. BUT anyways if you study business or whatever and i get the terms and shit wrong… no i didn’t pls ignore it </3 ALSO researching high end rich people stuff was a pain in the ass bc it reminds me that i dont have disposable money- also reader is a ‘tsundere’ yk the trope,, and is also like 5’11 just because 😭

cw: degredation, dom reader, sub idol, theyre just very mean to eachother. use of the word ‘brat’ but idk if i characterised kimlip enough to be a brat 😭😭

wc: 3.2k

shit… why is she here?

there was this uncomfortable pressure inside of the meeting room and everyone around felt it, but they couldn’t understand why. a couple guys crossing their arms looking elsewhere in the room, a close ceo friend of yours awkwardly shifting around in their seat and the deafening sound of silence was just… overbearing. you could hear the sounds of a few people tapping their pens, shuffling their shoes, rustling their jackets and good lord it was awkward as hell.

your completely obvious scowl was directed to one person in the room and it was none other than your life long rival, miss kim jungeun.

well let me give you a rundown. you came from a background of extremely successful business men and women. growing up spoilt by your parents, you always looked down at people who were well… less fortunate than you. growing up with a family who were heavily involved with stocks and marketing, you of course, had to honour the family and take up the same jobs as they had. it’s not like you hated it either, in fact, you absolutely enjoyed it. everything was just money, money and more money for you and you were nothing more than happy. your personality wasn’t any better than your average millionaire. picture your stereotypical wealthy individual- that was you, but obviously way worse.

boastful, one of the many words that describe you. you lived for the thrill of business, making risqué deals and then bragging to your peers about how it worked well for you (as if you didn’t threaten them with the risk of losing money… you have your ways) always having recent designer brands on display and whatnot. showing them off to, once again, your peers. and by god you were so cocky about it every single damn time “have you bought louis vuitton's newest arrivals? well i doubt you did, i know a shit ton of your graphs are decreasing. let’s talk about that”

your lifelong rival, kim jungeun, also came from a similar background. another spoiled kid raised by rich and successful parents. like you, she also grew up learning about the marketing business and how to make money easily. another successful business woman in her family, money was a need, a want, a lifetime goal to earn more. she HAD to be rich. it’s just a rich kid thing you know… god, not to mention how painfully bratty she is. throwback to when she’d pester the hell out of her parents to buy her 2 different coloured porsche cars. one black and one red, the same model but different colours… oh, and the time where she started arguing with you about how she wanted the same exact bag as you and begged for you to give it to her? sure, she looked cute be- i mean she looked desperate begging for it. anyways…

now, the two of you sort of grew up with each other, attending the same private school. on the outside people would’ve believed you were friends, really really good friends. but in all seriousness you hated each other's guts. was there a reason? no, not really. rich kid hate was very common actually. petty things like either one of you had a branded item and the other would go mad because they didn’t have it, screaming at each other because you HAD to prove that you were richer than the other, fights over who would ride this specific horse for horse riding practice? the list can go on and on and on.. like said, rich kid problems. what made it worse was that both your parents were best friends, meaning you’d often see each other during your parents’ meetings or somewhere like the golf club. unfortunate right?

anyways, you had started a business at the exact same time as jungeun had. which is also funny because you had started the business in the same area- whats even more funny is that your company specialised in almost the same thing as hers. same starting time, same business, same location, same everything… it’s like you were soulmates or whatever. the thought of that sent shivers down your spine, almost causing you to gag out loud

“my apologies, i feel ill”

you’re sat in the meeting room with numerous other ceos, one notably being your acquaintance miyawaki sakura from hybe cooperation “what’s got you all queasy? nervous for the presentation?” eyes locking into yours, whispering loud enough for only you and her to hear.

“there’s a certain bitch in front of me and the thought of her is making me sick” covering your side profile, whispering back to sakura.

“you have to be joking? miss kim? she’s one, if not, the best strategists out there for marketing. how exactly is she a bitch?”

“uh, hello? i’m clearly the best. also she’s a complete and utter bra-“

cutting you off with a loud cough, the host of the meeting begins his introduction “as you all know, we’ve noticed a couple trends in a lot of your companies graphs. i’ve gathered a few of the best ceos to at least provide some help, because of well… we’re sort of losing audiences right now so-” another throaty cough escapes the mans mouth “-miss kim, if you would like to present first”

rolling your eyes and scoffing i hope you trip over and bruise your ass… her blazer looks very nice today, i wonder who tailored it. whoever did the colouring must use high quality- what the fuck am i thinking about?

not even 5 minutes in and you’re already ticked off. over what? just her, her presence alone pisses you off and it can be seen through the way you’re leaning back on the chair “as seen by this information here i believe that it would most likely attract more audiences. also looking at this chart it sho-“

“clearly you know nothing about the audience, miss kim. you know nothing about this department” a pen twirling around in your fingers.

“excuse me what? i know nothing about the department you say” tilting her head ever so slightly up, intimidating as she may seem, you only scoff at her attempt to drive fear into your heart “i’ll let you know i’m much more qualified in comparison to you”

“HA- as if. i just wanted to mention that your tailoring is humiliating to look at. whoever designed your clothing should be shamed” she looks at you in disbelief, bringing up your petty arguments into the meeting. what are you five?

“miss l/n… you’re stooping way too low” sakura says as she’s holding your arm to calm down.

jungeun ignores sakura, her attention completely diverted onto you and winning the argument “right, as if your tailoring isn’t any better. your cufflinks look like they were made out of nickel silver. how poor do you have to be to buy- i mean borrow cufflinks”

“fuck off. it seems like your eyesight is getting worse, not being able to tell the difference between nickel silver and pure platinum. ha, maybe the fake chopard glasses are fucking with your eyesight”

“you wanna fight?” loosening her sleek black tie, her hands already balled into a fist. seeing her angry made your day, bringing her bratty personality out is what you lived for.

“and break your smug face? with my pleasure” leaping from your chair, you fists ready to land themselves onto her face. yet you feel a couple of people holding you back, one of them being sakura “sakura, you’re a great person, but for the love of god let me go”

“security come quick, a fights broken out” a guy calling for them desperately.

the same goes for jungeun, wanting to smash your face into the table, a few people held her arms. “get off me you lowlifes, you’re ruining my shirt you fucks” flailing around as she’s swatting hands away from her “hands off my blazer, that shit costs more than your monthly salary”

eventually you were escorted out of the building and into your respective cars. what an immature fight you thought to yourself. there was some self reflection going on as your chauffeur drove you back to your house. why exactly did you start pestering jungeun and why did you enjoy it so much? how has she stayed in your mind for so long and why did you keep your rivalry even though you could completely put her out of business (your hubris speaking)

—

you sit at your table, a cup of coffee in your hands as you scan the documents given to you this evening. it was a cold night, the clouds outside your window were dark grey and unwelcoming, much like the knocks at your door “give me a few minutes i’m busy”

you’re currently wearing a white button up, your top button being undone while your tie was hanging around your neck loosely. the rest of your attire was made up of some formal black pants, obviously high end. you looked scruffy today, but it didn’t matter to you since you planned on staying inside your office for the rest of the night.

fuck, your head was throbbing from all the thinking you did yesterday.

another knock on the door and your assistant walks in without any care then leaves? what the fuck “i told you to give me a few minutes, do i need to fire you” shouting at her from across the room. you could care less about your appearance, that was until you saw.. jesus fucking christ… kim jungeun again “why are you here?”

“to apologise for being such a bitch at the meeting” although it sounded genuine, you couldn’t believe someone so haughty could be apologising, it was like you were in a daze how could she be apologising to you while being sober? it’s almost comedic. but you couldn’t just accept it like that, where’s the fun in being nice.

“go on then, bow down and get on your knees or something”

“fuck you mean by that? i change my mind. i’m not apologising to your annoying ass” she spat at the ground “how about you apologise for embarrassing me in front of the other ceos” turning the tables back at you.

as much as she did piss you off you had always looked at her with some sort of interest- yes you fought too much but that’s what made your relationship interesting, to be honest you felt a little sad when she never paid much attention to you. maybe just a little jealous when she would argue with her employees and not you.

“you’re so bratty you know” you scoff, feeling heat rise to your head. standing up from your desk you tread carefully towards her, eyes narrowing as you rip off your tie from your collar, a fiery gaze piercing through her like daggers “there’s no way in hell i will ever apologise to you, brat” you would be lying if you weren’t turned on right now, seeing her once stoic face turn into a cowardly frown made you feel sort of… aroused. “oho, not speaking back for once, cat got your tongue?” your body towering over her with ease, thank the lord for your amazing genetics because now you’re trapping a 5’4 girl between the wall and yourself.

“you’re so pretty when you don’t furrow your brows at me, fuck, you look even better when you have that dumb look on your face” you’ve only been alone with her for a couple of minutes and your knee is placed in between her thighs, she lets out a small whimper, much to your surprise. she could’ve fought you right here right now yet she didn’t, instead she lets you do as you please.

looking at her you coo, “letting me humiliate you like this? i thought you had decorum jungeun,” that may have been her breaking point, you never EVER called her by her first name and with that simplistic action of calling her ‘jungeun’ you had her in the palm of your hands.

jungeun chuckled “you’re saying i’m the one without decorum, yet you’re here pinning me against the wall in your office” her hands sliding down your chest, resting itself on your abdomen. her actions spoke words, she’s as riled up as you were and you knew it.

biting your lip, you try not to make a sound, tracing her fingers around your waist. “you want me don’t you y/n. give in and just fuck me”

the last few words ringing in your ears. forcefully grabbing her arms and bending her over your desk like a slut, her pencil skirt showing the curves of her ass very well “you don’t need prepping, your wetness is already soaking through the fabric… are you a slut or something jungeun?” smirking. without hesitation you drop to your knees, peeling off her tights, exposing her ass to the air “keep your mouth shut for me” you say as you pull her panties aside, her glistening cunt waiting for it to be fucked by you- and you only.

it was a sight to see, and fortunately it was only for you. pausing in your tracks you lean back to observe the scene “you look amazing, however you’d look even better without this cheap skirt” ripping it off of her waist.

“you’re so pretentious that it’s almost disgusting”

“i didn’t say that it looked horrible on you this time though'' truth be told, you were actually internally salivating at the way the skirt enhanced her body lines, but it’s whatever. you could buy another one for her.

parting her folds apart you suck gently on her clit, eliciting a few muffled moans. grabbing her thighs just to pull them apart to make it easier for you. she rolled her eyes back, feeling vibrations from your “mhm’s” and “so good” and other comments on how good she tastes.

the friction of your tongue circling around her clit made her scream out loud “the whole building is gonna hear you if you don’t shut your mouth” yet you secretly didn’t mind that. sure you had a reputation and so did she, but in this moment you couldn’t care less. seeing how responsive she was only made you greedier, she was like money to you; you wanted more. you felt hot, something you couldn’t explain took over your mind and made you work hard. lapping up her cunt, practically making out with her pussy now, you take your hand that was resting on her leg and slide two digits inside of her gently.

“s-shit.. ah-“ clutching onto your desk with her hand while the other one tries to reach for your wrist. moving so painfully slow, you watch her hole swallow and clench around you fingers. entranced by the way it looks and by the way her walls feel wrapped around you, it was like a perfect fit “go, fuck- faster, d-don’t be like this…” the way her voice trembled sent shivers down your body, sounding so desperate and needy that it was overwhelming. never in your entire life had you seen her this desperate and it made you feral.

slowly, ever so slowly, you thrust your fingers in and out. your tongue still working circles around her clit. although it wasn’t like you being sweet and caring, you made sure to start slow. really, fucking, slow. moving her hips in tune to your movements, because you’re that much of an asshole that you had to be painfully slow.

but that’s the fun of it, switching up from very slow to excruciatingly fast- slamming, not two but three, fingers into her dripping cunt. for her it felt out of this world, waves of pleasure crashing all over her body that it seemed like she was being possessed, as you can tell by her legs shaking like crazy. your attention now back at her clit, instead of what you were doing previously, lightly sucking and circling, you licked with passion. it was messy- the way you ate her out, her juices dripping all over your face and dripping down to your chin, something that you could deem as pornographic because it was just that messy “mmmgod- fuck fuckfuck, y/n right there” unfortunately, you didn’t have the view of her face but you knew she would be drooling all over the table from having her cunt be abused.

“so- feels so good…” her moans alone cleared your mind, and you wanted her to scream out your name badly. you felt her walls clench around you harder, knowing that she was on the verge of orgasming you had two options; be mean and edge her, or let her cum all over your face and into your mouth…. the second option sounds way better.

“jungeun mmhm, you’re so close. let me take care of that” your jaw started to ache and your arms became sore, yet your will prevailed. wanting to see her unravel because of you was definitely worth the pain. “cum- cum for me jungeun”

curling your fingers inside of her sent her over the edge, she became breathless and so did you. the sounds of her squirming on the table and the ticking of the clock in the background were the only sounds that could be heard. you ignored the latter and focused on her only. somehow her hand finally made it to your wrist and tugged at the cuffs. then she became limp, as a joke you jerked your hand again which rewarded you with a squeak from her. standing up again, you gazed at her from above. sprawled out across you desk, her once straight hair becoming dishevelled, clothes wrinkled and more- the finest piece of art couldn’t rival such a view.

“um… are you okay? did i fuck you too hard” growing a tad bit concerned. she wasn’t getting up… you assumed she passed out from exhaustion since it was pretty late in the night and well you knew her from childhood so of course you knew she wasn’t able to stay up for much longer“fucks sake, eurgh okay… passed out in my office for what reason” you’re so glad she’s sleeping, or else she would’ve felt the kiss you planted on her forehead “stupid”

—

the next day she woke up in some stranger's bedroom. curious to where she was, she got up from the king sized bed only to find out she was half naked. anyone waking up half naked in someone's bedroom would obviously be scared as hell. she was shocked beyond belief? she knew she didn’t drink so why was she in-

“before you scream profanities in my house, i was the one who brought you home”

“WHATTHEFUCK? oh my bad you scared the living shit out if me… ah- did you at least dress me?”

“well yeah, did you think i would let my employees ogle at you?” you again, scoff at her, your tone less sarcastic than usual “alright come down before breakfast gets cold”

“you made breakfast for me?” the first time you’d see her blushing at you, it was cute but you couldn’t admit that to her face.

“not exactly me, my chefs made it, but i suggested some foods i thought you would like soo…” hiding your face in embarrassment “don’t look at me, please”

[cerberus-new-owner]

WHOOOOOO week late birthday present to me from me

thank you me

your very welcome me

did i speed write like over half of this like 4 minutes ago (as im editing this and adding the intro on tumblr) yes, yes i did

But anywaysssss onto the cw

CW: like none (i hope), gn mc, mc and the characters relationships can be taken as platonic or romantic, fluffffff

Lucifer

the same pen every year but, its not just him stealing it from mc's room to rewarp it he has a box full of the exact same pens if one of them has a slight defect he will write a letter to the company that made the pens and send the damaged pen with it (mc shouldn't mention the fact that they've gotten the exact same pen from him four years in a row his pride will be hurt and he will just start engraving their name into the pens never know he may eventually switch it up and put a cute little nickname or something on the pen instead of just 'mc'), either that or he listens very closely and pays attention to what mc might need throught the year need a new desk at some point cause satan broke theirs placing a book down consider it bought mc dropped their bag in a puddle and need a new laptop it's theirs. sadly though he will only get them things that are practical hat they say they need so no jewlery or devices you already have that work fine unless mc can come up with a good excuse as to why the latest tech is needed for studying, there is the odd chance he may get them a bottle of demonus thinking 'they seem to like the taste of it even if it doesn't affect them' (doesn't matter what he gets mc the pens will always be given to them as a fun little bonus prize)

Mammon

anything and everything mc has even looked at for more than half a second is now in their room they mentioned a certain idk (whats something a half sane sheep that has to babysit like 9 demons 2 angels and a sorcerer on daily basis look at in a store oh well) mc mentions something they saw the other day that caught their eye his broke ass is looking for the cheapest deal he can find (or most expensive depends on if he has goldie or not) and buying it

Satan

like lucifer mans will think practical things and like himself he thinks books are the most practical things of all of course cats are fairly high on his list of practical things (they are a must have unless you're allergic to them if you're allergic to them im sorry cats cause you pain, then again they cause most people pain tiny little fluffy a holes that i love continuing) he will be bothering mc about their choice in books asking alot of questions along the lines of 'what genre are you most into' 'mc whos your favourite author' 'fiction or non-fiction' all in attempt to figure out what mc likes if mc isn't really into books and is into idk sports or gardening something like that he will search endlessly to find an interesting book to give mc on one of their hobbies and if they don't like the book he can always "borrow" them to learn more about mc's likes and hobbies

Asmodeus

feel like this is a no brainer but some kind of spa day or outfit (wait new headcannon alert what if he knows how to sew and occasionally makes clothes for himself for y'know when theres nothing new in fashion or theres an important event he cant find anything fabulous to wear but occasionally being the keyword he probably uses most of his talent fixing rips in satan shirts from satans outbursts) anyways... he will spend an entire day fawning over mc he will make sure they dont lift a finger god forbid they get a papercut from wrapping paper or worry lines from stressing about how tf they're supposed to sleep when mammons filled their room with gifts

Feel like because of this i should do how they wrap the gifts so this goes for Christmas / any other holidays too so bonusss (this is also who would remember to include a card)

lucifer

plain colour probably in mcs favourite colour no ribbon or anything fancy just plain [insert favourite colour] wrapping paper, he takes pride in wrapping his gifts neatly (he's wrapped the same pen for several years straight he has had practice) he gets a card for mc like the presents wrapping the outside is a plain colour with words relating to whatever celebration it is with either the dryest shit ever written on the inside or the most sappy shit depends on his relationship with mc if its the latter option though we will only give mc the card in private knowing exactly how his brothers would react

mammon

he uses the christmas wrapping paper from two years ago that everyone forgot they had until he called out 'anyone gonna use this wrapping paper i found in the closet' to satan replying 'you know thats christmas wrapping paper right' and mammon taking satan answer as a go ahead to use it, he'd do his best to wrap any gifts he got mc he looks up a tutorial and everything and 100% is proud of his work not matter how messy it looks, if anyone chooses to mention how messily it's wrapped he will say its part of the suspense he will use ribbons and bows to add extra effect

he forgets about aa card entirely

leviathan

ruri-chan wrapping paper wrapped as neatly as possible so the little images line up on every side as perfectly as possible he will spend hours trying to get the folds just right so the images line up nothing fancy like ribbons or bows he'd feel bad if he covered one of the characters so he doesn't bother with it

he panicked about what to write in the card so he gave up deciding that having a marathon with mc was way more important than writing his feelings onto a card

satan

cat wrapping paper or wrapping paper that looks like pages from books he makes any gifts he's wrapped look pretty (just like the pretty boy he is whosaidthat/j) he wraps the gift neatly and puts a little bow on it before writing a heartfelt card and using a little bit of tape to attach it to the wrapped box

asmodeus

picks out the prettiest wrapping paper he can find even if he's just wrapping a card that says "Spa Day!" he is wrapping it neatly with utmost care

he chooses a card based on mc's likes and hobbies of course making sure it's bedazzled and as pretty as possible

beelzebub

two layers of wrapping paper he found one that had images of food on it but halfway through wrapping mc's gift with it he took a bite out of the wrapping paper so he changed wrapping paper to a plain one so he would be somewhat less tempted to eat it

he gets mc a card and starts to write something in it before the writing stops mid word and theres a bunch of crumbs from him eating something forgetting to finish the card and giving it to mc anyways

belphegor

clouds it's very nicely wrapped because he probably went to one of those 'we wrap the presents for you' places and paid them the only part he did himself was the card and he put a tiny bit of effort into it until the writing gets smudged and messy and is that a bit of drool he fell asleep midway through writing oh well guess he better nap with mc to make up for falling asleep

omg what will i do nowwww guess what

boom

double bonus cause i said so

Barbatosss

tea party, tea party, tea party (i like tea) he will invite mc to the castle not only does this mean he gets to celebrate diavolo also gets to celebrate mc's birthday (like diavolo wasn't the one to suggest it, barbatos just anticipated dia asking to invite them over) barbatos will cook mc food from the human realm majority of it being things he heard them say they liked or missed from the human realm occasionally he might throw in a devidom ingredient or two to enhance somethings flavour or to add a fun little surprise (maybe he throws in something to change the colour of their fur for a few minutes who knows) as for the acctual gift part he probably gets mc something small to remind them of him or something practical he's not lucifer when it comes to gifts and may look into the future to see if theres anything mc will need in the near future like maybe their bag is gonna break in the next two weeks and they'll need a new one just so happen barbs gave them a new bag for their birhday the week before perfect

he wraps gifts by himself with a plain wrapping paper of mcs favourite colour and by far out of everyone wraps them the nicest he's lived for a millennia he's had practice wrapping gifts when it comes to writing a card for them he does his best to make it heartfelt and meaningful

soooooo tadaaa i've finished unless people want the others (by people i mean if i were in theory to gain motivation to write for the rest of the characters)

i hope people enjoyed this have a good day, night, brunch, apple, pen (pineapple apple pen)

follow the leader, the leader, the leader, follow the leader right to the masterlist

dangnabit his means im old now too

[takeomurasaki]

Hey takeo! How’s everything? Welcome to Tumblr and to the writing community. I read your post and I was hoping if you could write something for Izuku’s birthday? Maybe reader organizing a surprise party for him without him knowing? (Only if you want to that is)

And I can’t wait to see you grow here! I was once a small writer here (kind of still am) so I get how you feel about being on such a popular platform. And remember: writing’s supposed to be fun, not tiring. Post whatever’s on your mind.

Take care and stay safe!

Hi Moonlight, Thank you so much for the request and the kind welcoming message! I'm really grateful for your kindness and hope you grow even more as a writer 🙏🏻

I adore this idea and hope I could interpret what you had in mind, hope you enjoy this 🩵

" Perfect Birthday for Him 💚 "

Izuku Midoriya x GN!Reader

Type: Romantic, Fluff, One-shot.

Summary: Surprise party for Izuku's birthday.

Word Count : 2005 words

You put your hand on your hip, the other on your forehead. The cake was finally in the oven.

"I can't believe I beat the squad to it! It was exhausting but everything's ready cake wise."

"Could you help me clean now? First you kidnap me from my morning training to bake a fucking cake for Deku and now you won't even clean. Damn extra!" Bakugo screamed-whispered in your ears. It was still early and if the both of you woke the others up, Izuku might wake up, and that's a no-go.

You weren't the best at baking, that was a flaw of yours but you always tried your best at it. That failed this time around, though. You had tried to prepare a cake for Izuku's birthday but you mixed the cake mix with too much olive oil and it was ruined and smelled terrible. Thank God you knew just the right person to help you: Bakugo. He might be a douche, he was the best at baking so you asked him regardless. The blonde wasn't dumb, he saw in your eyes that this cake meant a lot to you, and he sure could see you wanted to impress his childhood friend. Your eyes were shining and a deeper colour than they used to be, your cheeks were tinted red and sweat dripped from your forehead. Your hair was messy from the rush you had been in for the past couple days preparing the perfect birthday for Midoriya.

He found that funny and laughed at your face, but followed through with your plan anyway. He's not a monster, why wouldn't he help his nerdy childhood bestie get game?

"Yeah yeah, I'm coming. You're going to wake them up if you keep speaking so loud Bakugo please.." You sighed in complete despair and closed your eyes. He sure could be a pain in the ass sometimes.

As you were washing the dishes and Bakugo finishing cleaning the countertop, he spoke out of the blue.

"Say professional simp, why'd you stress so much over that birthday party anyway? You know damn well he's gonna enjoy it if it's you preparing it for fuck's sake." He said rather loudly, grinning like a mad man, he REALLY was a pain in the ass today.

"Bakugo I- He- What? Oh my God" you facepalmed, your face so red your ears began to redden too. You gritted your teeth, this guy was gonna ruin the plan it he keeps at it. "Shut the fuck up and don't speak so loud! Get back to cleaning." You got back to cleaning the dishes, furrowing your brows still red faced. You did hope he was right, that Izuku was gonna like it and actually realize you liked him bad, like bad bad !

Let's not forget who Midoriya is, he gets quite oblivious when it comes to love. Random people were hitting on him at least once a month in the most random places ever and he never suspected a thing, he thought they were just being nice.

That made you fall deeper for the green haired boy if you were honest, you found that just so cute. He always was but his oblivion to others' perception of him added to his natural charm.

You could not mess today up, you were a compassionate and thoughtful friend who always went above and beyond to make your loved ones feel special. You have a knack for creating unforgettable moments and ensuring that every detail is perfect when it comes to showing someone how much they mean to you, mostly Izuku.

It was your chance of getting him to be aware of himself and his attractiveness that you admired deeply, too.

Later on, you went to Mr. Aizaiwa. He wasn't your teacher, you were in class 1-C, but he was Midoriyas and he was helping the whole plan happen out of sheer boredom. He was indeed the weirdest teacher you'd ever met.

It was lunch time, the perfect timing to meet him and discuss today's matter. You knocked on the almost empty classroom's door and entered slowly.

Internally you were an absolute mess. Trying to keep your composure wasn't easy as a swarm of butterflies filled your stomach to the brim, the anticipation was overbearing. The party was getting closer.

"Hello Aizaiwa sensei. Do you remember about Izuku's birthday party perchance? Do we have permission?" You managed to smile somewhat normally with sweaty palms.

He looked up from his spot, tucked in his sleeping bag about to fall asleep from the bags under his eyes. "Hello Y/N L/N, I do remember problem child's birthday party... Principal Nezu is okay with the party being held in the dorm's common room. You will have to mark out the things you're using from the school on a paper though so we know what you took. Dismiss now, I'm sleepy, kid." And with that he just fell on the ground and closed his sleeping bag further, till we couldn't see his face.

You did a little happy dance, how could you not? You had everything planned out perfectly. You rushed out of the classroom to prepare the decorations and the organization.

You were by yourself to prepare the room and all. The others were still in class. After class was done everyone has to come here and finish preparing everything with you, excluding Ochaco of course. She was his current best friend and was tasked to keep him occupied for sometime so we could all hide and all. Honestly your excited was making you go faster than you anticipated, your breath was warm as you were going up and down chairs to be tall enough to reach the ceiling and put the All Might banner and balloons you managed to obtain.

You carefully placed the plates and cups, All Might themed of course, on the table. Each plate and cup with a name on it so no one would get mixed up, that also prevented you from forgetting anyone. You prepared the soft and energy drinks you had brought the day before and put them on the table alongside crackers, chips and nerunerune kits. Candy for the sweet guy, you were proud of the connection you had made at the supermarket. You even got to use UA's party things, so you had confetti on the table, on the ground and even found a red carpet to put at the door leading to Midoriya's chair. Oh his chair, you took an extra time on it. It had little All Might stickers on it you brought for this special occasion, an All Might cushion sitting bare seemingly waiting for Izuku to sit down on. You were overjoyed it was so perfect and turned out how you imagined it.

After the bell rang, the others rushed to the dorm and were surprised to see you had done everything. You took the paper hats, All Might themed why wouldn't they be, and ended one to each and everyone. Mina insisted on having colorful streamers, you couldn't disagree it was a great idea for sure, the clean up was going to be a nightmare but that's for later.

You all got in your hiding spots and turned off the lights, Ochako texted you and said she was near with Midoriya. Your heart was racing, your face red. Barely hyperventilating at this point, you brushed your palm against your chest to contain your excitement. The door clicked open.

"Ochako-san? Why is it so dark in there?" Midoriya was intrigued and turned on the light. Seconds after, you all jumped up and screamed happy birthday to the birthday boy. Midoriya was surprised, his eyes wide and sparkling as he scanned the place and everyone in the room. He smiled brightly, showing his pearly white teeth. His cheeks tinted pink at this point. He thanked everyone, one by one, until it was you left. He approached you, he seemed excited from what you could tell.

"My raitō! Everyone told me you planned all this and I could never thank you enough!" He engulfed you in his muscular arms.

Your eyes widened, he had just called you his precious and on top of that he was hugging you. Heat rushed to your whole face and ears. Your pupils dilated, you inhaled his sweet scent that filled your lungs to the brim. You giggled finally hugging him back.

"It was nothing Izu, nothing is enough to compare to you." You admitted, a knot forming in your throat as the words spilled out your mouth. Izuku instantly lifted his head up from the hug and he was scarlet red at this point. He started stuttering and muttering, you couldn't really understand what he was saying so you just laughed. With the courage you had managed to form you gave him a small peck on the cheek and went to Todoroki to get the gifts out of their hiding spots in his room.

Izuku was frozen in place, his chin trembled as he tried to process what just happened. His hand trailed slowly to his cheek and realization hit him straight in the face. He had not studied them enough, that wasn't in his notes.

The time for the gifts came, everyone hurried at the table as Izuku sat down on his custom chair. He was so nervous, that was a lot of attention on him at once and you were still there, sweetly grinning at him. He opened each gift gently as to keep the All Might merched wrapping paper and thanked everyone for their gifts. The last one was yours and he was absolutely thrilled, his palms shaking and his heart racing. He opened the box hidden under the wrapping paper and lifted an eyebrow, the box was empty.

"Is- is this normal Y/N ?" He said scanning the box, flipping it upside down and shaking it.

You were freaking out. Everything was perfect but this. The gift wasn't in the box. Without even thinking, you screamed, terrified and hurried to Todoroki's room, it must still be there. Izuku followed you and motioned the others to stay put in their place.

"Where the fuck is it!? I swear it was just there!" Your eyes scanned every corner of Todoroki's room in desperation. You were moving every single piece of furniture trying to find the gift for Izuku, you rambled on about where it could be and didn't hear it feel Izuku's presence in the room. His brows narrowed and he stepped towards you. He placed his hand on your shoulder stopping you dead in your tracks. You were crying, the frustration was too much for your poor heart and soul to handle.

He opened his arms and smiled at you,

"Y/N please calm down, I don't need a material gift it's all fine I promise. We can have fun with the others and we'll search for the gift after the party how does that sound to you? Is this ok?"

You accepted the embrace, slowly nodded rubbing your eyes. "I guess this is. I'm so sorry Zuku it was meant to be a perfect birthday. I was so focused on you and your birthday party I even forgot to put the gift in the box." You managed to trail out between small whimpers and crys. Izuku gently rubbed your back as you confessed to him, he was happy you trusted him with your emotions. Seeing you vulnerable like this comforted his love for you, if you could break your outer walls down for him, he could do the same for you.

"I understand the struggle, it was the same to me when it was your birthday honestly. You're just so mesmerizing I lost myself for a moment." You looked at him with mouth agape, face redder than it had ever been. He chuckled and pecked your forehead, just as red as you were.

"Your presence and attention towards me and my birthday is the greatest gift you could have given me, Aijin."

Takeo.