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writingouthere · 1 year ago

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neighbor!Sukuna x singlemom!reader, you go to check out a potential apartment and Sukuna joins because he is very helpful. Longest one yet so strap in!

cw:Sukuna waving his red flag like a matador while you do your best SZA impression

Sukuna thought you seemed more stressed than usual when he got home. You still talked through dinner and entertained your daughter but he could tell something was weighing on you. While Bug chased some very melted ice cream around her bowl with her spoon, he brought over some dishes to where you had already started washing the pans you'd used to make dinner.

"Thought I was responsible for the dishes since you made dinner," he reminded you, gently nudging you out the way.

"It's really not a bother and besides, you're already doing us such a big favor, letting us stay here," you said and you sounded a little choked up at the end which made him turn the water off so he could give you his full attention.

"How many times do I have to tell you I don't mind?" He couldn't help some frustration edging into his tone which only made you look sadder. He sighed and dried his hands on the towel, a new addition you had gotten, it was covered in sunflowers and it reminded him of you every time he used it.

"What's going on, you seem off today?"

You hesitated and he put his hand on your shoulder. He preened when you put your smaller hand on top of his and squeezed before giving you his full attention.

"I-I went to go see an apartment today and it was just awful." Sukuna barely fixed his face in time for you to look up at him. He had no idea you were even looking at other places. You'd barely been at his place a month and he had thought you had a good routine going on. You both split the household responsibilities and you spent your time not working together. He picked up your daughter twice a week now from daycare and took over Sunday mornings so you had some time to yourself. Someone at the grocery store had cooed over your adorable family and you hadn't even corrected them.

Obviously, you still weren't getting it and Sukuna reminded himself that it wasn't your fault. It was still like pulling teeth to get you to talk about your ex and honestly what he'd heard about your family hadn't really impressed him either. You had been taking care of yourself for far too long and it only made sense that you would be worried about being a burden on him when other people had made you feel like that rather than seeing caring for you as the privilege it was.

"Why was the apartment so awful?"

You bit your lip and he felt some concern that wasn't related to you potentially leaving. "What?"

"It was the usual, you know. It was over my budget and it was too small, I mean Bug is getting bigger every day, she needs her own room too. Then the building looks like it's only days away from collapsing and the guy who showed it, I mean he was just such a creep."

"Creep, how?"

You sighed and squeezed his hand again, but he wasn't sure if it was for your sake or you were trying to calm him down since he was sure his anger was obvious.

"It doesn't matter-

"Of course it matters, you're trying to find a home for you and your kid and some guy is making you feel uncomfortable in the space you might end up living-"

"-well I'm not going to live there, so. Doesn't matter," you say stubbornly and Sukuna hums but doesn't argue.

It's clear this is weighing on you, and while Sukuna has no intention of you moving out, unless it's him along with you, he figures this is a two birds one stone situation. Because fuck him if he was going to let you wander around the city being harassed by some dumb fucks who thought they could take advantage of a single mom.

"Are you seeing any other places," he asked and you bit your lip.

"Well, there was this one other place but after today I'm not sure-"

"Let me go with you," he said and you looked up at him and well, with the tears just beginning to fill your eyes and the little glimmer of hope he could see peaking out, how could he do anything but assure you. "Let me go with you and you can look around the place without worrying about anyone bothering you. Besides, it would make me feel better if I could scope out the place you and Bug might be moving to. I want to make sure you'll be safe."

Of course, you two would be safe because you would be with him but whatever got him to the showing.

"What about Bug?"

"Yuuji can watch her. He's been dying to babysit since he met her."

This was true. Sukuna's brother was suspicious, rightfully, of Sukuna and his intentions towards you, but Bug's cuteness was a great distraction whenever the three of them were together.

"Okay, okay. Tomorrow, could he watch her tomorrow?"

"Let me call, him. Don't worry, I'll take care of you, okay?"

You nodded and Bug started calling for you both. You went over to give your toddler the attention she clearly wanted while Sukuna finished the dishes and thought over how he would handle this situation tomorrow.

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

The next day, Yuuji showed up bright and early with the two idiots that were always with him these days. Sukuna rather liked the Fushiguro kid but the woman that was always with him still got on his last damn nerve. Her and Yuuji together were a threat to decency laws and his fucking eardrums.

"Morning! Where is my precious baby girl," Yuuji cooed stepping in as if he still lived there as Fushiguro gave him a quick nod and Kugisaki walked in without even a hello.

"She's not your baby," Sukuna said, shutting the door a little harder than necessary.

"Well, she isn't your baby either, so."

Before Sukuna could literally murder his brother, you came out with Bug on your hip.

"Uji!!" Your daughter loved Yuuji and you put her down so she could run over and greet her favorite uncle.

"Thank you so much for watching her," you said grabbing your purse off the counter. "Are these your friends from school?"

The two freeloaders introduced themselves while Yuuji started flying your daughter around like he was a plane. At least your daughter would be tired by the time you two got back.

"Let's get going, we got to get there by nine," Sukuna said, putting his hand on the small of your back and directing you towards the door. There were several loud calls of good-bye and good lucks as you two shut the door and made your way to the car.

When you get to the apartment, the super is waiting at the front door of the building. Sukuna sees him shoot you a smarmy grin that abruptly drops off when he takes Sukuna in.

"Good morning miss, I wasn't aware you were bringing your...."

"Partner," Sukuna states firmly and holds out his hand. "Pleasure," he says, sarcasm dripping from every syllable. You only look on in amusement as the fucker shakes his hand and then turns his eyes back on you, much more subdued than he'd been at first.

"Right, so the apartment is on the fourth floor. A walk-up but good way to stay in shape..."

He drones on as you and Sukuna follow behind.

"You cannot carry a stroller up four flights of stairs," he says in a tone that the super can definitely hear. "Bug also can't walk up four flights of stairs, especially after a whole day of daycare. Besides these stairs look like they might crumble and drop you to the fucking basement at any second." You smack his arm and the super looks pissed off until Sukuna stomps on a particularly wobbly stair for emphasis and he looks a little nervous. No way he was letting Bug walk up this deathtrap.

He keeps a running commentary of everything he sees, none of it good on the way to the apartment. The cracks in the ceiling, the chipped the paint, the flickering light on the third floor stairwell that makes him feel like they stepped into an 80's slasher flick. On and on he goes and he doesn't stop once they're in the shithole apartment itself.

A one bedroom, not nearly enough space for two, definitely not three which makes him even more irritated at the fact he clearly hadn't factored in at all to the choice in apartment.

He's in the middle of guessing outloud if the shower head would fall on top of you in the first week or the second when you snap.

"I know it's a piece of shit, Sukuna. I'm not an idiot, I'm desperate." You are more irritated than he's ever seen and the fucking creep of a super shoots him a smirk before Sukuna turns the full force of his glare on him. The man mumbles out something about giving them time to take in the space and leaves them alone, the door closing firmly in his haste.

"I don't think you're an idiot," Sukuna says, more calm than he feels because he definitely feels a type of way about all of this. "I just don't think this place is right for you or Bug. Do you expect me to apologize for caring?"

"Is that what this is? You come here to help me and all you've done is shit on the apartment and scare that poor man half to death."

"That poor man was fucking makes eyes at you until he saw me behind you."

"I know, but he got the point when you squeezed his hand so tight I think one of his knuckles popped!"

Sukuna snorted at that and even you seemed a little amused. You sighed and leaned against the wall behind you.

"I can't live with you forever Sukuna, we need a home."

Sukuna wanted to scream, to shake you and say that he was your home. Home for both of you but he knew you weren't ready to hear it and that if he misstepped you might end up living somewhere that seemed a strong breeze away from collapse.

"It's not forever," he finally said and this was true. You would need a new place soon, just not this place. "When I say I don't mind, I mean that I like having the two of you with me." You seemed a little surprised by this admission and Sukuna weighs his next words carefully.

"You're my friend and I care about you even if I have an unconventional way of showing you." You scoff and Sukuna presses on, he can see you softening. "Just wait a little longer. This place isn't good enough for the two of you but another place might be. I'd rather you stay with me longer and find the right place instead of rushing and choosing somewhere shitty because you think you're putting me out or something."

"What guy wants some mom and her kid crashing with him for months on end," you ask and you seem almost genuinely curious.

"You're not some mom, you're you and I happen to really like that kid." You smile and Sukuna knows he's got you. "I mean as we speak she's probably putting Yuuji and his loser friends through the ringer and that's reason enough to keep her around."

"You think anything will be broken by the time we get home," you ask and he feels the clump of blood and flesh that makes up his heart squeeze just a little tighter. Home.

"Oh, definitely but that's why we're not paying them for their services." You laugh and Sukuna walks a little closer to you. You watch him, a little confused but he thinks he sees some anticipation too as he closes in on your space and puts a hand on your cheek. He leans in and he knows he's not making it up that your eyelids flutter as he gets closer.

It's tempting but when Sukuna kisses you for the first time, it's not going to be in a place like this while some scumbag is probably listening through the door.

"Let's go home," he says and he presses a gentle kiss against your cheek. You'd done the same to him many times by now and he can see the appeal when he hears your sharp intake of breath and finds himself surrounded by the smell of your shampoo.

While your quest to find an apartment was unsuccessful, Sukuna thinks that important progress was made today. It fills him with a sense of contentment that manages to sustain him even as the two of you come home to an apartment overflowing with chaos and a spiderweb of cracks across his tv.

When he goes to kick Yuuji's ass, Bug makes sure to lend her support to her poor uncle by clinging to Sukuna's leg and laughing while the two men roll around on the floor to your amusement.

Like he would ever let you leave this.

also people have been suggesting that I make a masterlist or create some sort of tags and while I know what these are(kind of), I'm also not sure the specifics so any advice on how to make this all easier to find would be appreciated! I've been creeping on tumblr for literally over a decade but never written like this before.

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

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wonderjanga · 2 months ago

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Sharing Can in Fact Lead to Caring

Sometimes Billy doesn’t need Solomon. Sometimes, Billy just says whatever that comes off the top of his head, it can be surprisingly helpful at times. (Billy doesn’t realize most of them are just coming to their dad figure for advice)

Such as the time Wonder Woman came to him concerned about time dilation. When Solomon explained what that meant, he had a pretty good idea of what she was talking about. Basically, she was worried about the afterword of the Justice League and her friends and how she would outlive them all. He brought her ice cream and they talked it out. In a way, he supposed he understood her. Billy couldn’t remember his mom or dad’s faces or personalities. He only had Captain Marvel to go off of and he guesses Mary, but she looks more like a young version of their mom. In the end, after much talking and trying to show he understands her worries, she seemed to be doing better.

Then, there was a talk with J’onn. The Martian had confided in not feeling at home with the humans. Not that he blamed him. J’onn had lost his home. So, Billy talked with him. Again, sort of relating. The way the Martian described missing his planet, reminded Billy of how he’d missed his parents. By the end of the talk, the Martian seemed to feel a little lighter after it.

Then, there was this kid.

Little Girl: *sitting on a bench alone*

Marvel: “Hey there, miss. Where are your parents?”

Little Girl: *stares* “There not here.”

Marvel: “Why’s that?” *sits down next to her*

Little Girl: *shrugs*

Marvel: “Well, then do you have any guardians?”

Little Girl: “I think so, but I don’t really like her. She’s mean. I don’t think she likes me or my foster siblings.”

Marvel: “Oh? You’re from foster care?”

Little Girl: *hesitantly nods head*

Marvel: “And I’m guessing you ran away?”

Little Girl: *nods again* “Are you going to tell on me?”

Marvel: “No. I ran away from my foster homes all the time.” *shrugs, doesn’t know why he’s saying this but might as well go with it*

Little Girl: “You did?”

Marvel: “Yeah. They were all terrible. And the ones that weren’t terrible were just neglectful.”

Little Girl: “What does neglectful mean?”

Marvel: “It means not paying attention to something. Like for example, I had this foster parent who would go days without coming home, leaving me and the other kids to have to feed ourselves. She wasn’t paying attention to us or our needs.”

Little Girl: “That’s sad.”

Marvel: “Yeah, it is. So, why did you run away from your foster home?”

Little Girl: “The lady who adopted me throws stuff when she gets mad. She’s mad a lot.”

Marvel: “That sucks. I had a foster home like that too. He would throw a bottles, forks, books, whatever he could get his hands on.”

Little Girl: “You did? Did you think it was scary?”

Marvel: “Yeah.”

*silence*

Marvel: “You know, a friend of mine got adopted recently.”

Little Girl: “Really?”

Marvel: “Yeah, he’s been with them for about half a year now. He says they’re great. They’ve been fostering kids for a while apparently too.”

Little Girl: “That sounds nice.”

Marvel: “It is. Do you want me to ask about it?”

Little Girl: “Huh?”

Marvel: “Do you want me to ask him if there’s any spots open?”

Little Girl: *stares for a bit* “Yeah.” *stomach growls*

Marvel: “Alright, then I will. Now, how long have you been on the streets?”

Little Girl: “Oh uhm… a couple days.”

Marvel: “Come on, let’s get you something to eat.” *stands up*

Little Girl: “Really?” *hops off the bench*

Marvel: “Yeah. You feeling chili dogs or tacos? Those are the only two vendors I know that’ll give me something free.”

Little Girl: “Tacos, please.”

Marvel: “Alright then- uh, my bad. I never asked your name?”

Little Girl: “Oh uhm it’s Darla.”

Marvel: “Darla? Alright then Darla.” *fatherly ahh smile* “Let’s go get you some food, ‘kay?”

So ya. He met Darla. She’s a sweet kid. He would need to ask Freddy more about the Vazquez situation. Hopefully, just hopefully, they could squeeze the little girl into their family.

Also, uh… I guess in this AU, Freddy met the Vazquez and got adopted because he went back into foster care for a bit for whatever reason. There, he got adopted into the family. Darla joins after him for this post to work.

#billy batson #dc captain marvel #shazam #captain marvel dc #fawcett city #fawcett comics #fawcett #j’onn j’onzz #martian manhunter #freddy freeman #darla dudley #wonder woman #diana prince

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gallavichsreddie1128 · 5 months ago

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Viral Video (Homelander)

Description: Homie and Y/N make a porn video together.

Warning: Smut

Word Count:1,420k

Request: Hey, could you write a Homelander x reader fic where the reader is a secret cam girl or stripper and HL finds out.

Author’s Note: I kinda changed it up a bit but hope you like it!

Homelander was a famous being that the world knew. He was on magazines and posters all across the world. The last thing he should be doing is a porn video with his girlfriend. Y/N was a cam girl that did stuff for people on camera and got paid for it. The money she brought in for it was great and Homelander couldn’t be upset about it. He watched all her lives and videos like a fan but to star in one. He wasn’t sure.

The world had no idea that he was dating someone like her. He couldn’t just star in a porn video for the world to see him. Sure he liked fucking his girl in public spots but nobody knew. He would do it on high buildings or in the sky but this? Everyone would see this. So when she brought up the idea he froze, “You want me to do porn with you?” He asked. She nodded like it was no big deal. “Babe, I’m famous, I can't just star in porn.” He said with a chuckle. “Sure you can.” She said. “Everyone would see me.” She didn’t see the big deal out of it. “So?” His face dropped at her carelessness. “I am a fucking hero. Kids look up to me.” He growled.

“Okay well we can make sure it’s known it’s not you.” She said. His face showed that he was confused. “What do you mean?” He asked. “Like I could just suck your dick. Your face doesn’t have to be on camera.” She said, he hummed. “Just my dick?” He asked and she nodded. He couldn’t say no to that. But she had other ideas in mind.

It would be the following day that she set up her camera to film. Her camera was a very professional and expensive one that she got from the money she made. Homelander was not in his suit but in nothing with a hard on as he watched his scantily clad girlfriend set it up. “So after I suck your dick I am going to ride your face but again your actual face won’t be shown.” She said and turned towards him. He liked the sound of that. “So where do you want me?” He asked and she thought for a moment.

“Sit on the edge of the bed and I’ll zoom in on your dick.” She said. He did as he was told and she zoomed a little on his dick that was hard. “Okay so I am going to get in camera view and we will go from there.” She said and started the recording. She got in the view of the camera and gave a smile before crawling over to John who already had a boner. He was big and she knew people would get a kick out of seeing her suck a dick since she had never done it.

John watched her as crawled over to him. He watched her chuckle and lick her lips as she stared at his cock. He wanted to tell her to do something already but couldn’t use his voice. She took her hand and started stroking it. She giggled as he tensed up and tried not to make sound. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the feeling of her hand. Her other hand moved to his balls to massage. He held back a groan that threatened to release.

Her hand picked up the pace and he bit his lip hard. She wanted him to make noise but understood why he couldn’t. He wanted her mouth on him but didn’t know how to tell her without words. He had hoped that she would put her mouth on him before he came. She luckily removed her hand from his dick and replaced it with her mouth. She had the camera angled perfectly so everyone could see his dick going in and out her mouth.

Her hand never left his balls and even started massaging faster. He looked down at her and let out a groan. She looked so hot with his dick stuffing her mouth. He was so big that whatever didn’t fit she had her hand on. He got the idea to fuck her mouth and started moving his hips. He silently moaned at the feeling and through his hand back. Y/N got faster with her movements wanting him to cum for her. She figured she would swallow and save the mess.

He began twitching in her mouth not long after and tried so hard to not make too much noise but when he came he couldn’t help it and moaned loudly as his white sticky substance went down her throat. He had hoped that nobody caught on to him with the moan. She milked him and removed his dick from her mouth. She licked her lips and removed any cum that was on her mouth was a cute giggle as she stared up at him. He wanted to fuck her so bad but knew that it wasn’t the time.

She winked at him and got up. She went and grabbed the camera and made sure his face wasn’t in it before pushing him back down on the bed. She turned the camera towards her while she straddled him and moved up to his face. She bit her lip as he pulled her hips forward with his hands. Her pussy was soaked and nearly dripping on his face. It was a pretty sight and almost worth having the world know his identity.

She gasped as he pulled her down to sit on his face. His nose was on her clit and his tongue near her hole. Her jaw dropped as he began circling her wet hole with his tongue. She gulped and kept eye contact with the camera as she felt him pleasure her. His hands that gripped her hips moved her over his face causing her to moan out as his nose bumped her clit with each thrust. Her one hand that wasn’t holding the camera leaned down and gripped his hair. “Fuck.” She whined as his tongue was inserted in her hole.

She threw her head back and humped his face more. The bed was squeaking at this point but her moans were so loud that there was no way anyone could hear it. John moaned into her pussy causing her to squeak at the vibration. Her moans were music to his ears and her pussy tasted amazing. Her humping his face caused her orgasm to come a lot faster. “I’m gonna cum.” She cried as her hips and thighs started shaking. John pulled away from her pussy. “Show the camera you cumming on my face. I don’t give a fuck who sees me.” He said and she turned the camera showing his face.

He pulled her back on his face and continued the action. Her orgasm that faded when he pulled away quickly came back and was more intense. Her cries were directly in the speaker as she rode his face. His eyes were closed enjoying her tastes and sounds but it was evident that it was him. “John fuck baby I’m gonna cum.” She whined and all he did was move faster. She screamed loudly as she came all over his lips and nose.

Her moans were still going as she rode out her orgasm until she was too sensitive. She sat up and showed his nose and mouth covered in her slick as it dripped on his face. He looked like he was heaven. Her hand that was in his hair moved to his lips and rubbed her cum all over them before he took her 2 fingers in his mouth was sucked on them. He moaned at the taste as she chuckled. “Such a good boy.” She said as he stared up at her.

She got off him and showed the camera her cum soaked pussy and rubbed her fingers on it. She gasped at the sensitivity. John watched her as she sucked on one of her fingers and winked at the camera. She ended the video and looked over at him. “Are you sure you’re okay with your face being in it?” She asked. “Yeah cuz that was hot.” She smirked at him and got up. “I have to upload it so what should I call it?” She asked walking to the computer. “Viral video.” He said and she looked back at him with a smirk. It would indeed be a viral video.

#the boys #the boys imagine #the boys amazon #the boys season 4 #homelander #homelander x reader #homelander imagine #homelander x you #homelander smut #antony starr

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frankcastleonlyfans · 6 months ago

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𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐈 𝐌𝐄𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑

pairing: dad!daemon targaryen x mom!reader au

summary: your son maegon visits his sick old uncle, viserys, and end up learning the story of how you met your husband.

author's note: look who's back... this story was based off two asks, this one, and another one asking how daemon and mom!reader met. and now mom!reader is officially dornish!!!! i will not be making descriptions of her features in the future, but just know that mom!reader is poc. i hope you guys enjoy this story. it feels good to write again.

warnings: none ig

reblogs, feedbacks and likes are appreciated. support your content creators 💓 please leave a comment if you like my work, and enjoy your reading.

dad!daemon x mom!reader au masterlist

gif by @gameofthronesdaily

· ┈┈┈┈┈┈ · ༓ ༓ · ┈┈┈┈┈┈ ·

It is sad when a family member gets sick and you know there's nothing you can do about it. So when your brother-in-law fell ill, it came the time you had to explain to your children that King Viserys wouldn't be the same he once was. The hard part was trying not to scare them with the thought of losing their uncle.

The news brought sadness to Alyssa's and Rhaegon's hearts, but Maegon was the most affected one. He felt the necessity of doing something for his beloved uncle so that even though the King now lay indisposed, he could still feel loved. Your son was old enough to realize that besides Helaena, Viserys' kids did not care for him. That made him sad. Rhaenyra lived in Dragonstone, and for so she couldn't give the attention her father deserved.

The boy had the idea of asking Queen Alicent to let him pay some company for King, during the evenings where he would like someone to talk to. As she needed a break from the sick man herself, she would let Maegon take over her place wherever she felt like it. Which was, almost every evening.

During one of those evenings, Prince Daemon thought it would be nice to see what his brother and son talked about. Mostly, he just wanted to see his brother interacting with anyone, to have the certainty that Viserys would still be alive for a while. The King had little to no hair on his scalp. His body couldn't stand up without the supported of a cane. Daemon didn't know how much time his older brother had left.

When Daemon made entrance to the monarch's solar, he found his son and his brother giggling softly. It felt good to hear the laughing. It meant Viserys was in fact, still alive.

"May I know what is so funny?" The Rogue Prince asked, making his presence known.

Maegon was startled by his father's voice. He has been visiting his uncle for weeks now, but not once his father wanted to come with him.

"Oh, hello Daemon" Viserys grinned at the sight of his sibling, "what a coincidence to see you right now. I was just telling Maegon about that time when we were kids... Do you remember when we tried to find The Cannibal?"

Daemon chuckled, "I do. We searched around all Dragonstone until Father found us before we got inside a Volcano's cave."

"And we never found him!" Viserys laughed.

"Well, thank Gods! You two would probably be eaten or burned alive and I wouldn't be here today to hear the story if you did find him." Maegon reasoned, watching his father pacing around the King's solar.

Daemon's fingers danced around the huge model of Valyria that his brother had exposed in the middle of his room.

"I miss the good old days when I was brave. Once I was sword fighting, I was riding Balerion, I took my little brother to look for a cannibal wild dragon..." Viserys sighed softly.

"You are brave still, uncle" Maegon assures, "It takes bravery to rule. And it takes bravery to be kind. You are a good King."

Viserys nodded to his nephew's words, taking his hands across the table. Daemon felt warmth in his heart. He couldn't quite understand that sensation, but he sees that part of him feels glad that his son expressed words and emotions he could never say or show, because he didn't know how to.

"Did you know that I was the one who introduced your mother to Daemon?" Viserys asked, with fun in his tone, "Have I ever told you the story?"

"Oh, you haven't!" Maegon engaged, grinning excitedly, "Do tell me, uncle, please."

We were all at Driftmark to prestige Corlys and Rhaenys' wedding. Nobles from all across the Seven Kingdoms were there, and your mother was one of them. I remember she was wearing her house colors in her dress. She was a bit older than your sister is now, I think.

My late wife, Aemma, introduced me to her, I didn't know they were friends. I discovered that the lady whom I had just met, was not only a Princess but also played part as a knight at her father's guard. She wore that dress with such grace, that I thought my ears deceived me when I imagined her wearing armor and ringmail.

My thoughts were disturbed by Caraxes' whistling noises, when Daemon, who was very late for the ceremony, came flying upon our heads, rounding Corlys' castle. Everyone was watching the little show your father was giving, mouth-opened, shocked, scared. Y/N wasn't any of those things. She wasn't impressed at all. I remember asking her;

"Have you ever seen a dragon?"

and smirking, she replied, "Where I come from, we have scarier animals."

"Scarier?" Aemma questioned.

"More dangerous." Y/N reasoned.

"I suppose you're right, Princess Y/N," I said, "There are beings more lethal than a dragon, like the very man who rides it can be far more dangerous for his ideals, than the dragon under his command."

It felt like I summoned my brother once I said those words.

"Prince Daemon" Y/N made a short reverence to greet his presence.

"Brother, let me introduce you to Princess Y/N of Sunspear, she is a good friend of Aemma's."

Daemon kept his smugly signature grin on his lips, and took Y/N's hand in his, kissing the soft skin of her knuckles.

"I am deeply sorry for being late for the ceremony. I hope dear cousin Rhaenys can forgive my missing presence." Daemon changed the subject without paying any interest to the lady who made us company.

His rudeness made me uncomfortable, but it was so like my brother to behave like that.

"Y/N, you should come visit us. Viserys and I would love to welcome your family to Dragonstone." Aemma smiled and looked at me for reassurance.

I nodded, "Feel free to visit whenever you want. It is a very lonely place, and unfortunately, the only family we have there is my brother, as Aemma and I are still trying for a child."

Before Y/N could give us an answer, Daemon retorted, "My apologies if living with your younger brother is not what you expected of marriage."

"It certainly is not what I was expecting." Aemma playfully hit Daemon with her elbow.

Y/N giggled softly and the noise took Daemon's attention. He was quite curious why she was still there, in his presence. Most people who didn't know him are likely to feel uncomfortable with his intimidating presence, but not that girl.

"Are you here with your family?" He questioned. That was the first time he spoke directly to her.

Y/N shook her head, "My father sent me here in his name to prestige Princess Rhaenys and Lord Corlys, and give them our wedding gift."

"Oh. I see Dorne's economy must be great if its ruler has enough gold to spend on such superficial events." Like always, Daemon felt the need to say something directly rude.

Y/N frowned, "I thank the Gods our economy is doing well. It certainly is not because of your King." she replied. Her head remained raised, and her eyes stared at Daemon's on the same height.

Daemon felt strange. That woman wasn't offended by what he said, and even tried to get under his skin. One had to have such courage to talk to him like that.

"Uhm... Viserys, why don't you take Daemon to get that wine Corlys was talking to you about?" Aemma spoke trying to break the tension.

"When I took him away, he couldn't shut his mouth about Y/N. He was amazed a woman had the guts to talk to him like that, and even so about the King." Viserys finished the story, as Maegon quietly listened to every word he said.

"She never really had much filter, your mother." Daemon said, "Still doesn't."

Maegon frowned, "But... that's it? That's how you met mother? But, when did you start courting her, father?"

"She came to Viserys' coronation ceremony. Aemma was pregnant and couldn't make her company, so I offered myself for my sister-in-law to be the one hosting her friend in King's Landing." Daemon shrugged, "The rest... well, maybe you should ask your mother how it happened. I don't remember very well, but I know she quickly fell in love with me."

#dad!daemon targaryen au #daemon targaryen x reader #house of the dragon imagines #daemon targaryen imagines #daemon targaryen x oc #dad!daemon targaryen x mom!reader au

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anundyingfidelity · 2 months ago

Text

HAPPY MISTAKE — Logan Howlett

Summary: Not ever, through all the years of your life, you found someone like Logan. Since he arrived at the school, something brought you together like a magnet. Sadly, not everything came out as you wished it would be. Time is not gentle with mutants, and you try so hard to show him your unconditional love before everything is over, but can you finally accept your feelings for each other? Or yours and Logan's tumultuous relationship through the years.

(PART ONE → PART TWO) | GEN MASTERLIST!

Pairing: Logan x mutant!female!reader.

Word count: 9.6k.

Warnings: slow burn, breaking up(?)/making up, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, eventual smut and unprotected everything, language, character death, time travel, Logan hurting reader unintentionally, wounds and blood. Logan being a whore for both Jean Grey and the reader. Reader has slow aging as Logan and looks around mid 30s in my head. Anthropology teacher!reader. Reader can manipulate light (just like Starlight from The Boys). This takes place between different movies from the franchise, from X-Men 1 to DoFP, so spoilers of the movies ahead.

Notes: Long time no write. Life is horrible but somehow I managed to get this in like two months. I love Logan so fucking much now you don't have an idea. This was also written with Happy Mistake by Lady Gaga in mind. If you'd like to be tagged in the second part let me know or let me know your thoughts on this, it's very much appreciated! I suffered a lot writing it .

𝒊𝒇 𝒊 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒇𝒊𝒙 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏 𝒑𝒊𝒆𝒄𝒆𝒔, 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒊'𝒅 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒂 𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒚 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒌𝒆.

—

2000

“Need any help?”

Logan stopped on his tracks from wandering around the cozy, yet strange place he woke up in. Turning on his feet, he saw your figure standing in the middle of the hallway. He said nothing, but you approached him as you had known him for a very long time.

“I assume you’re the new guy-”

“Where is she?” Logan abruptly interrupted once you stood inches away from him.

“Rogue? She’s fine. And you need to take a little rest.”

“I don’t need medical attention,” he said, looking around to search for a nearby exit. Before he walked away you took his arm in a soft grip.

He was, as much as you could tell, surprised by your boldness. You gave him no time to process his next movements once you talked again, your voice firm and welcoming in a way he had never felt before.

“Please, you need to meet Professor Xavier,” you said. “At least before you go. It’s totally fine if you wanna leave, I don’t recommend it though, but we can offer you a safe place here. We are just like you.”

Logan’s hardened expression relaxed for a moment, sensing no threat coming from you. All he saw in your eyes wasn’t pity, nor anger at him being kind of an asshole at first. It was just authority, the good kind where he also had something to say and decide about.

“Whatcha say, Logan?”

He was so immersed in his thoughts before you called his name, thinking it sounded beautiful falling off your lips. You gave him a half smile as he took in each detail of your face, as if he was memorizing every part of it.

It was the first time someone had been nice to him and it felt strangely good.

For some reason, it felt very good coming from you.

��

Logan just found out from the Professor’s mouth the mansion was a school for mutants. Gifted people, he called them. After learning another powerful mutant was behind him and Rogue, he had no other choice but accept the shelter. He didn’t like the other guys better, playing the teacher with a bunch of teenagers with special or cursed abilities. But besides Storm and Jean, you were the person who had welcomed him the most, even showing him the place and the room he would stay in.

One late night, you sat at the dining table together. Logan was silently drinking a beer outside school hours so the kids wouldn’t see him, and you, reading a bunch of papers from your students that you were missing. He realized how hard you worked, how you would praise your students, how you talked to them outside classes, being the one to actually convince Rogue to enroll in the school. Immediately, he knew you were really something, having much more in common than he thought. And you, living for so long, being both a mutant and a lady for sure had a hard life through time.

“What you teach again?” he suddenly asked, breaking the comfortable silence you shared.

“Anthropology,” you answered, giving him a short glance. “I took this at college a long time ago, and I’ve been alive long enough to know a thing or two,” you explained, putting away a paper after putting an A+ on it proudly. “It’s important to understand ourselves, humankind and mutants… It’s a diverse world and there are lots of cultures, languages and societies we don’t get to know, but it’s beautiful. I think I like to celebrate what makes us unique. I've had the chance to study some of them around the world since I had the time, y’know, and it’s truly amazing. It’s a shame we have to fight between us to make us heard when we could just be kind and empathetic to each other… Sorry, you didn’t ask but, y’know, anyway.”

You shook your head with a curve on your lips, going back to the next paper. Logan had taken the sparks in your eyes as you talked. He half smiled to himself once you buried yourself in your papers again, thinking you sounded just like Professor Xavier. No wonder why he took you in. Probably, if things were different for him, he would’ve found something that could light his face with so much passion just like you did.

“Been alive for almost two hundred years,” Logan said and you looked up to him. “We might have things about the past to share,” he drank from his beer. It was your turn to smile back at him.

“Yeah, well, I’ve lived both horrible but nice things. Couldn’t read or do math without being called a witch,” you chuckled to yourself, but hiding on the inside the awful experiences you had to endure. “Someday, we could go out and grab a coffee or something,” you said with a playful smile.

A light chuckle left your lips, but you and him knew it wasn’t just a joke.

He joined you with a warm smile that lit up his face before disappearing from his lips. “Of course. Count me in.”

—

The sun was shining bright and the weather was great that morning. Some of the students were in the yard playing, having some quality time, and others simply just left to go to the town. It was a good weekend before the next semester started, and it was better now knowing Magneto had been taken to prison after his failed attempt to use Rogue for his plans.

Sipping on your coffee, you saw the students outside. Laughing, running, having a good breakfast picnic. It felt heartwarming just taking this sight, wishing it would always be like this. Your mindful peace was interrupted when Logan entered the kitchen to have a coffee on his own. Visibly, you tensed just a little when he approached you and sat right in front of you at the dining table. The caffeine was not helping at all, you thought.

“Morning,” he greeted you, noticing something was off on you, but hoping it would pass. Maybe you already knew.

“Morning…” your voice came out as a whisper. “How you feeling?”

“Better. What about you?”

You gave a small nod. “Good, thanks for asking.”

A silence fell upon you. Not like the ones you used to share in lonely nights where you prepared your classes and Logan just sat down calmly because he couldn’t sleep. This time it was different. Words won’t come out of your mouth to ask what was really bothering you. You had grown up to like Logan and enjoy his company, but he had a lot of walls upon him, protecting himself of the world and people around him.

However, you understood why he did it. You both have been alive longer than anyone else. You saw people you love dearly dead, being killed because of your flaws. And you really connected to his idea of protecting people by leaving their side. It was better being away. That was until Professor Xavier recruited you. Here, you had a purpose and you helped young people to become the best versions of themselves. You wished Logan could do the same, stay and see he was more of what he thought of himself, but it wouldn’t happen. Right? He had things to sort out on his own.

“Are you leaving soon?”

When you asked the question, Logan knew you had heard something from the Professor. He gave you a nod.

“I need to reconnect with who I was,” he simply answered.

“Right… Wish you all the best there.”

Logan had grown to like you over the past few weeks you shared, exchanging experiences and lessons of life you had taken through the years. For a moment, he looked right into your eyes and smiled. He weirdly smiled, and you could swear he’d miss you too once he is away.

But that warm feeling soon faded away once Jean walked into the kitchen, saying good morning and beaming to the both of you. Logan followed her with his gaze, straightening himself on his seat as she served her own breakfast and an extra plate that you already knew was for Scott. She also began putting fruits and snacks inside a picnic basket while looking all happy and settled, and you knew why Logan had fallen in love with her. It was all over his face.

And you wondered how could he act and talk to you so kindly and sweet, and then look at Jean like that. It was a pain in your heart you tried to dissipate. Everyone knew Jean and Scott were a couple, and the fact that Logan had a not so secret crush on her really played on you. It made you feel like a fool and you had too many heartbreaks and hurted people, putting them in danger due to your mutation, to take initiative and start a relationship - or anything of the sort - again.

Scott made his way inside the kitchen, saying hi to both of you - mostly you. And took the tray with their plates as Jean grabbed the basket, but she let Scott leave the kitchen before.

“Have a good trip, Logan,” she said kindly. “I hope to see you around here soon.”

“Thank you, Jean.”

She smiled one last time before leaving you all alone, Logan following her with his eyes. Just for a second, you wished he could see you like that underneath his facade.

—

You had packed your stuff later that day, deciding a little air and a change for one night would do no wrong. Just as you were walking to the main door, Rogue was saying her goodbyes to Logan after giving him a small hug without really touching him. It was a cute sight how Rogue was able to step into his cold heart. She said goodbye to you as well before leaving the entrance.

“You’re going away too?” Logan asked, rather surprised as you both walked through the door, the sun hitting your skin as soon as you were out of the mansion. He knew your life was at the school.

“Just for the weekend,” you shrug it off.

Logan gave you a nod with a warm smile. “Then have a good trip and enjoy yourself.”

“Thanks. I hope you find what you’ve been looking for.”

“I hope so too,” Logan answered and before he went to take Scott’s bike, he looked at you hesitantly for a couple of seconds. “We should go out and grab some coffee once I’m back.”

Your lips formed a wide smile. “That sounds really nice.”

For a moment, where time felt like hours and not seconds, you stood right out the door, looking at each other. You wanted him to go first, but he was waiting for you to say something. Probably to ride the bike with him, he could leave you somewhere near your destination and feel you close - just be around you for at least five more minutes. But none of that ever happened.

Instead, you studied his face, looking at his deep eyes, and then his lips - those lips you wanted to kiss so bad before, but never had the courage to do so. You didn’t think further, and if something had taken possession over you, you leaned towards him leaving a short, sweet kiss on the corner of his lips.

“Take care,” you mumbled once you pulled away.

Not waiting for his answer, you turned back, pulling your bag to your side stronger than ever and walked the path to the front gates, feeling his gaze all over you until you left the mansion.

He felt such an idiot for not kissing you properly.

—

2003

‘I know what I want, but what do you want?’

Mystique’s words echoed through his head. Logan left the tent so long ago he didn’t know what time it was anymore and the situation kept repeating again and again in his mind. The woman had shifted between Jean, Ororo, and you. The one that icked him the most being Rogue once Mystique had taken her figure in. Storm was a good colleague, Jean was a forbidden love, Rogue was like his little sister, someone he would protect as long as he could, and you… you were a different case. When Mystique was about to kiss him wearing your figure, he finally realized he started feeling things he had prohibited himself for a very long time, and he thought he shouldn’t. He really shouldn’t.

Once or twice you shared experiences about love and partners, but he could tell it hurted you the same way as him. He couldn’t burden breaking your heart, or worse, getting you hurt because of what he was. Logan knew you had the same bad luck in the past, but it didn’t stop any of you to pull towards each other like a magnet.

‘Living for so long does things to you, Logan. I feel we become more aware of what we are.’

Those words you said to him one time remained in his head like a warning, and he took it personally.

Closing his eyes, he leaned against a hard tree trunk some feet away from the tents where the rest of the X-Men rested. He tried to find some peace alone for a few moments when the sounds of steps approaching alerted his senses. Claws out and ready to attack, he spun around the trunk only to stop in a second.

There you were, a bright light emanating from your hand to illuminate your path in the darkness of the woods.

“Logan?”

Quickly, he withdrew his claws and his body relaxed visibly. “Sorry,” he apologized, leaning against the tree one more time.

“Are you okay?” you asked, but you already knew the answer. The exhausted sigh he let out told you everything you needed. You let the soft glow of light floating between you and him, to illuminate both of you under the branches. “You wanna talk?”

He slowly shook his head, mumbling ‘no’. He became startled in the light floating like a firefly, letting his own issues wash away with your sole company. Ironically, everything that was troubling him was you. Softly, you caressed his arm, taking him out of his own thoughts. Your touch didn’t help his poor mind either.

Looking worried about the next mission in Lake Alkali, you feared for him and your team. And your lack of sleep was showing it. But just like Logan, the growing feelings were troubling your head. You had seen him talking with Jean earlier when you landed in the forest - talking too close to your liking once he pulled her for a kiss. But what could you do? Logan was still after Jean even when she had already declined him countless of times, and it didn’t really hurt you. It just felt strange inside. Why would he do that while still being nice to you, quitting being a dick when he wanted because he knew you’d snap back at him. And to be honest, Logan looked as if he liked that about you. But he won’t admit it out loud, and of course, you wouldn’t ask. Men were so damn complicated.

“Well, I only expect things to not get worse…” you finally said in a soft whisper since he wasn’t talking and you stopped your head going further on the matter. And you knew he wouldn’t talk soon either. “And you’re brave for seeking your past.”

Logan locked his eyes with your own, under the soft light. Your tired gaze, your figure, your aura pulling him like he found a treasure in an abandoned cave… He felt so bad for falling for someone like you, who was nothing compared to the crap he was. And then, for the first time in years, he decided to follow his instinct with you.

He leaned towards your figure, his rough hand cupping your cheek gently before pulling you in for a kiss. With a soft sigh you corresponded, your arms around his neck as it turned deeper and harsher. Logan lifted you easily from the ground, your legs tangling around his waist until you felt your back against a rough surface, trapped between the trunk and his body. Soft moans and grunts mingled, your chest pressing against his own, his hips grinding against your crotch. It was obvious you wanted this. Logan desired you so painfully after that day you kissed him goodbye at the mansion, he needed your body and soul. But you had to have answers before giving into the heat of the moment.

Pulling away, you broke the kiss, your forehead resting against his own as you tried to catch your breath. Logan tried to taste you once again, but you placed two of your fingers on his swollen lips.

“Why’d you kiss her?”

He remained silent, brows furrowed and eyes blown in lust. You didn’t make any effort to pull him away. He still had you between his legs, asking a simple question he had no response for.

“We’re adults here, Logan. Just wanna know why before we go further.”

Logan started to remember. He vividly heard Jean and Mystique voicing out and asking the right question.

‘Girls flirt with the bad guy. They take the good guy home.’

‘What do you want?’

“Do you really want me?” he asked in return.

You lifted an eyebrow at his sudden question. “And do you?”

He leaned again for a kiss on your lips, and thankfully for him, you didn’t stop it. But he quickly pulled away and inhaled your sweet scent from the skin on your neck, leaving a path of soft pecks, until he nipped the shell of your ear softly. You shivered under his touch.

“I’d love to have you,” he whispered, softly caressing your cheek with his thumb.

“Come to my tent,” you mumbled. “Sleep with me. But like, seriously, sleep with me ‘cause I’m tired,” you chuckled, hoping to not kill the mood.

Logan smiled for a bit and nodded, pecking your lips one more time before helping you get on your feet on the muddy ground, hands rubbing your sides slowly.

“As long as I have you by my side it’s alright with me.”

—

Jean’s death was hard to swallow.

For weeks, students and teachers mourned her, and you felt sorry for Scott for losing his soulmate. Logan was not in the best shape either. He didn’t attend her funeral, he never had the guts to stand by her grave either, until now. You stopped right behind him and noticed him sighing, under the afternoon sunset. He was tense because of everything, but when you took his hand out of the pocket of his jacket, he held onto you. Your fingers intertwined together, feeling his life depending solely on you, like a rock he needed to support his whole weight.

The day was about to end, the sun slowly hiding, giving a beautiful painting of orange and purple in the sky. You thought it would soon become an intense thunderstorm due to Ororo’s mourn - something you had gotten used to the last few days.

“She saved us,” Logan barely mumbled, looking intensely at the grave.

You nodded, even if he could not see you. “Can’t blame her, I’d have done the same.”

Those words cause him to look back at you, wishing it’d be a lie. But inside, Logan knew you really had the guts to sacrifice yourself for others. It was something he remembered both of you talking about some time ago. And you would give everything in your hands to save the ones you love.

Quietly, Logan gave a last glance at Jean’s grave, and guided you inside the mansion. Classes barely started again due to the circumstances and a few kids could be seen around the halls. You accompanied him to the doors of his room, noticing you had been holding hands the whole time. Probably no one really cared, they were too busy trying to go through the grief of losing a loved one. Slowly, you broke the gesture, taking your hand away and Logan immediately missed the heat and comfort of your hand.

“Do you need anything?” you asked in a low voice.

Looking at you, Logan reminisced how you kissed in the woods, the need and lust for each other that couldn’t be. He did sleep in your tent that night, in the comfort of your arms, feeling the warmth of your skin. It was, probably, the first time he had a good, peaceful night of sleep in years. No one had brought that up, but he knew something was there. And he needed to act on it before it was too late.

So he brought up his hands to your face, cupping your cheeks lovingly before planting a kiss on your lips, not caring he was standing in the middle of the hallway where anyone could see what was going on. You leaned against his touch, deepening the kiss until you couldn’t catch a breath. When he pulled away, he pressed his forehead into yours, taking in the beauty of your bright eyes and swollen lips. Everything wandering his mind, making a path right into his cold heart was right in front of him.

“You.”

—

Knocking Professor Xavier's door, you walked inside as soon as his voice announced to come in. You caught your breath seeing Logan by his desk. He just gave you a quick, accomplice glimpse and left the room, closing the door behind. The exchange of glances wasn’t unnoticed by Charles.

“Here’s the report on my subject for this last semester, Professor,” you announced, leaving the folder on the wooden desk.

“Thank you. How’s Logan doing?” he asked all of a sudden, checking the door the man had crossed just seconds ago.

“Excuse me?”

“Do you believe he is comfortable helping the kids?” the old man asked again. He was seeing right through you, and you kind of hated every time he used to do that to you. Nothing could be hidden from Xavier; definitely you couldn’t hide a single thing for the man who took you in decades ago.

“Why would I know that?”

He shrugged it off. “Well, you seem very close lately.”

Close was not the best word to describe your relationship with Logan. Yet, you were sleeping on his bed just the night before. The trace of his kisses, the burn of his beard on your skin, his teeth biting softly your breasts, his rough hands all over your hips… Every touch he left on your body you could still feel it, and you wanted to think he was not just using you. During the past weeks, you were together. Not quite a relationship-thing was established properly, but it was the closest thing any of you could have as for now.

It was a mixture of grief, pain, and hope that had you both still standing. In the end, you understood what he felt. Being alone and alive for so long and then finding a place where people accepted you for who you were was a whole change, even if some years passed by. Though, the time Logan had been spending at the school was nothing but a blink of an eye compared to his past.

“What happened to our team is still affecting us,” you finally said. “I believe we are good friends, yes, we’ve been supporting each other. And he doesn’t know how to deal with the students yet most of the time, but I try to walk him through it.”

Xavier hummed, smiling at the corner of his lips as he eyed the folder you handed him. “I bet you both do.Thanks for bringing your report on time, as always, and I apologize if I am being intrusive. Just please be careful with the noises both of you make at night, we have kids around here.”

Shit.

You swallowed your pride right there and simply gave a nod, feeling the heat burning up your face.

“Will do, Professor.”

—

A loud gasp escaped your lips as you held for dear life on his broad shoulders, hips snapping against your own. His pace was reckless, keeping you on the edge of sin. Grunts mixed with sweet moans, skin hitting skin again and again every time you felt his cock inside you. If possible, your nails could have already left visible scars and marks on his back, scratching and bleeding off his skin as he fucked you senseless.

Logan sucked on the bare skin on your neck, inhaling your scent, feeling your walls clenching around his girth, his hands roughly grabbing the sides of your hips as you moaned his name, over and over, under the moonlight. He looked at you intensely with loving eyes when you came underneath him, eyes flashing that familiar bright light every time a powerful orgasm hit your body. The vulnerable sight of your figure shaking, eyes closing slowly and biting your lip to keep the pretty noises low, made him reach the sweetest high.

With a grunt, he leaned to attack your lips in a heated, wet kiss to moan against your mouth. Logan pulled back to press butterfly kisses on your jaw, until he reached your breasts, feeling himself soften inside your wet heat. His hips were still thrusting just enough to fill you up at a gentle rhythm. Marking you his and only his.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he mumbled against the sensitive skin of your chest. “Remind me why we’re here again.”

You chuckled softly, fingers tangling on his disheveled hair. You just had prepared a small date night out at the shores of a beautiful lake in the woods. No one could bother you if you were alone, and since your relationship was not so secret anymore, you needed him in a place that wasn’t the school. So here you were, laying on your back, fully naked on the picnic blanket, with the Wolverine between your legs, enjoying the calmness of the water, the green grass, the crickets singing around, and the cold of the night.

“Privacy perhaps?” you whispered as his eyes locked on yours.

Softly you touched his cheek with the palm of your hand and he rolled both of you over, until you laid on top of him, legs straddling his waist and your arms on his shoulders to sit on his lap. Silence took over, his hands soothing your hips and the marks he left on your body from the intense love-making.

“I’m so happy we took a couple of days off…”

You waited for Logan to say something. Anything. You wanted to continue, to tell him how you really felt. Instead, you decided it was better leaving it like this. Logan gave you a nod, pulling you for a short kiss.

“Yeah. Me too.”

He wanted to say it out loud, but was too scared to do so.

—

2006

After a couple of long years, the school and the team had to learn how to go through the grief and pain Jean left. Logan had a hard time processing it, just like all your teammates, specially Scott, and of course the students. It didn’t stop you from moving on as time went by though, always remembering her for the great person and mind she was. Going forward and keeping fighting is what she would’ve wanted for everyone, even now that a certain cure for mutants was announced to the public.

You tried to continue your life as a professor at the school, training students, leading young people, and you invited and encouraged Logan to do so countless times. Deep inside, you wished it was you the reason why Logan decided to stay and train young mutants - for you to be the answer to his loneliness. That he knew, for once and all, that he was not alone. You got each other, and you could do something about it. Words unspoken said more than anything, at least you thought so.

It was one of those rare nights where you got some time for yourselves, walking around the city after having a nice and calm dinner. Your shoulders brushed against each other while you walked downtown, your hands hiding inside the pockets of your jacket, protecting them from the cold.

There was a lot on your mind lately, thinking about what you two really were. If there was a stronger feeling in between, or if it was solely because he enjoyed your company and that was it. Both had lived enough to know there was a feeling in the middle. It wasn’t just friends with benefits, or co-workers who sleep together three times a week. Something was blooming deep inside you, but you tried to not give it a lot of attention all those years. Still, it felt like it had to be addressed sooner or later, and this could be the time. In the end, you understood each other perfectly. How painful it was, how living longer than anyone was, how you had to leave everything and everyone behind because you were dangerous…

“Have you ever wondered how’d it feel to have a normal life?” your question came out all of the sudden.

“How come?” He looked at you from the corner of his eye.

You didn’t know if his gaze was judging you but you continued anyway.

“Like living a normal amount of years… Not having these things, genes that make us different. Or special…”

Logan suddenly stopped in his tracks and grabbed your arm softly so you could lock eyes together as he asked. “You’re not thinking of getting that damn cure, aren’t you?”

“Of course not!”

“Then why’d you think that?”

“Because I never had anyone in my life, Logan,” you spat, pulling your arm away from his grip. “I’ve been alive for so long but I can’t promise myself a future. A real one. Not anything, it doesn’t matter if I live forever. Every person I loved before perished.”

Those words shook him out of the rough façade showing on his face. Your gaze told a hundred different stories when he studied your face every time. It was like mirroring himself at some point. You were the first person he ever got to know that has lived as long as he has, and maybe it was the sentimentalism, but he tried to push away those wishes of settling down. Of trying to be normal. Because he was not, and maybe, just maybe, you just didn’t accept it like he did. Probably, he was just giving up. But you weren’t, even after hundreds of years of disgrace continuously happening.

“I thought you’d get this, Logan.”

You mumbled, taking him out of his trance.

“Well, I do, in a way,” he said, but sounded more like an excuse for himself.

“Then why don’t you say it?”

“Wha-”

“Just say it,” you repeated and pointed between you and him. “What is this for you? What are we?”

Logan grabbed on your shoulders gently and leaned towards you, stealing a kiss on the sidewalk, a kiss you obliged with a bittersweet feeling for some reason, but then he whispered. “Darling, you’re everything to me now.”

Yet, you smiled and kissed him back, feeling his lips curve against your own. Well, that wasn’t so hard was it?

—

Needless to say, after the last date, your relationship with Logan had evolved to something more domestic, considering you lived together in your workplace. Affection, holding hands, quick kisses were shared now a little more freely, and you had received a couple of jokes and teases from some students and Storm. But it was fine as long as you had cleared your path with Logan, even if he didn’t act like a partner sometimes.

The certain calmness you felt one day disappeared when Logan and Ororo went to look for Scott, who often had these sad thoughts, and since Jean was his partner, it was thoroughly complicated for him to say the least. When Logan and Ororo came back to the mansion, it was not what you expected to see. Jean was alive and Scott was gone.

It hurted you, knowing first hand that their love wouldn’t be anymore. You met both of them when they were so young, becoming something like their mentor when they used to learn how to control their powers and how to fit in this world that loathed mutants to death. Now, the school was something else. It was a big, special place that was not the same without the brains of Jean, or the enthusiasm and leadership of Scott. Things were different, they had to change because the circumstances told so, and everyone had a difficult time adapting to it. One thing after another left you tired, with no option to run away, even if you wanted to. The complicated circumstances and the relationship you shared with Logan were no help either.

While on your way to check on Jean, who was still under observation after a couple of days, you stopped in your tracks when the heavy door of the med bay slid. Logan, looking all out of his daily self and mad, found you at the entrance, and you felt something different emanating from him.

For what you could see behind him, Jean was still asleep, and the Professor called Logan to come back with a serious voice, but he ignored the older man, instead approaching you.

“You knew, didn’t you?” Logan grasped your arm, his tone lower and deeper than usual.

You quickly pulled off his grip and hissed. “What are you talking about?”

“Jean.”

You felt silent. Of course she was anything he could think of since they found her.

“You knew he was controlling her,” Logan went on and your heart skipped a beat.

The look in your eyes told everything but lies. Logan scoffed and walked away, leaving you standing alone under Professor Xavier’s gaze.

“I’ll talk to him,” you mumbled at your mentor before following Logan, trying to keep his pace until he reached his room.

The whole way you tried to keep it professional, greeting students as normally you would, but when you crossed his door it was impossible to continue with the facade.

“Logan-”

“He’s insane,” he snapped, putting his jacket on and taking his bag out.

“Everything that was done was meant to protect her,” you responded calmly as he placed a handful of clothes inside the bag.

“No, you did it because you are disgusting. I bet this is what should’ve been for me if I refused to cooperate with your circus or something.”

“You don’t know what she is capable of-”

“Yeah, well I don’t wanna hear it anymore. This is so fucked up, even for you,” he continued, bag on his hand taking long strides until you were almost touching noses.

You scoffed, trying to laugh at the irony. “What does that even mean? Do you know how horrible it is to be controlled by the Phoenix inside her?.”

Logan rolled his eyes, not wanting to hear another poor excuse. You continued anyway, looking straight in his eyes before he could leave you hanging with your own words. Exactly like he used to do every damn time when you had an argument. Today, he wouldn’t run away that fast.

“She could kill you in a second and won’t hesitate. For her, we’re nothing. We’re not rivals, we can’t do shit. The only thing we could do was keep her alter ego somewhere hiding inside her mind, or else we wouldn’t be here arguing about something you never witnessed. Because I did and you don’t wanna see that, trust me,” you spat at him. He breathed rage at your words and you knew that it was getting on his nerves seeing the way his hands turned to fists. “And you think this version of her cares for you? Or that she loves you? Jean is gone now, Logan, fucking get over it.”

With last harsh words, you turned around and left the room, closing the door with a thud.

Logan breathed out. He wanted to scream, hit something, run away… Anything to let it out. He was a reckless mess but how could he react and accept Charles was playing with Jean’s mind? And you fucking knew all this time and didn’t say anything? Were his feelings dirty on him right now? Probably. Shit, he took years to finally tell you the truth about his love and affection towards you. He spent months trying to find the right words just to say ‘I love you’, and still, it seemed it wasn’t enough. The forbidden love he felt for Jean never disappeared, and he felt guilty for it.

—

You walked down to the med bay after calming down for a bit. You only needed to check on Jean for a moment and see how she was doing. Years prior, you had witnessed what the Phoenix was capable of, so you didn’t really question Charles’ methods when it came to hide this dangerous side of her inside her mind. You also thought your words might have been a little harsh on Logan, but it was the truth. He didn’t know who the Phoenix was and, if his feelings for Jean resurfaced after believing her being dead, then it wasn’t on you. As much as you loved him, as much as you tried and somehow managed to move on together, he was so easily dragged to her.

The anger you felt before took over you once again, as you found the metal doors of the lab in debris. Quickly, you made your way inside the room and found Jean wasn’t there and that Logan was lying unconscious on the floor. You knelt down by his side, calling him over and over and touching his face and shaking his shoulders until he finally opened his eyes slowly, coming back to reality.

“Logan, what happened?”

“She… she killed Scott. The Phoenix,” he whispered. You could tell he was a little weak and out of breath.

“You’re lucky she just ran away,” you pointed out, helping him to sit down. His eyes were lost in the mess in the room. Tools were destroyed, test tubes broken, crystal was everywhere, and Jean left the reminder of kissing him, yet again, before she escaped. God, he felt so idiotic.

“I’m sorry,” Logan said, looking at you. “Sorry for being a jerk. It’s my fault.”

Taking his cheeks between your hands, you gave him a reassuring look. “We’re gonna find her, okay?”

He nodded. “Yeah, we’ll find her.”

“Come here, we need to alert Charles,” you said, helping him to stand up.

Inside, you knew he wouldn’t really need your help. He was strong and indestructible like the metal on his skull, but he seemed really taken back, and you decided to stay by his side, holding his hand strongly as a way to say sorry as well. It was kind of difficult to see Logan in that state of mind, confused and lost, and you wondered what had happened back there in the lab as you left him in his bedroom, ordering him to rest for a while.

“I’ll be right back,” you assured him with loving eyes.

Logan nodded, following your figure stepping out the room and disappearing in the hallway.

He let out a breath he didn’t know was holding. His mind was having a hard time and his heart felt like breaking, going in two opposite directions, and he hated himself for that. His fate was always the same: losing people he loved and cared for dearly. So seeing Jean back again was as if god or anything up there remembered he existed and brought her back just for him. Or maybe he was just being selfish because he already had you.

You were everything for him. A couple of years might be just a short glimpse for both of you, but he was able to feel peace and calm next to you, and he was sure you did as well. Because some nights, that was all you could talk about. Logan didn’t mind hearing you for hours, it reminded him he was alive. With you, but his stupid instinct had to act.

It was his fault Jean had left. The kiss, the whole act of embracing each other’s bodies for at least two minutes, and then her breakdown, begging for him to kill her… All of that was enough to bring out the beast inside her. And he felt such a jerk now for following his desires. He already had you. Wasn’t that enough?

His thoughts were interrupted once you arrived again, finding him sitting at the end of the bed exactly as you had left him there. Sensing something different on him, you sat down by his side and rubbed his hand gently.

“We might know where she’s going,” you whispered.

“I’ll go,” Logan said before you could finish.

“I’m not sure if I should ask, but are you okay? You could do some rest,” you suggested, since seeing the redhead was clearly getting some kind of reaction from him.

“No, I need to go,” he said. But Logan could read your face perfectly, and he knew you didn’t really like the idea of him leaving the mansion. You turned your eyes, scanning the room and avoiding his gaze.

You had the need to ask what exactly had happened back there with Jean, but you didn’t want to start a fight either. Feeling Logan’s hand on your shoulder, he leaned to kiss your forehead goodbye. Maybe you were the one who should stay, check the kids, the school…

“It’ll be fine,” he mumbled, voice low and deep, as if trying to convince you, but himself as well. You nodded with your arms around his neck, giving him a hug that felt like some sort of apology you weren’t able to say out loud. “Don’t worry, it’ll be fine.”

And how you’d wish things would be fine.

—

The school has been very quiet lately. Too silent even for his taste. At nights like these, he could still feel the vigor and presence of the students running around, grabbing something to eat, planning to go out for a while... Instead, Logan found himself in a place that was mourning. Grieving the loss of Jean, Scott and Charles.

The feelings inside were complicated. He didn’t really feel the same, and the disgrace and remorse of his actions were growing on him. They were still haunting him; every day, every single night. You knew it too. It was impossible to ignore the nightmares each time he woke up from seeing Jean’s lifeless body fall against his own after he gave what she wished for the most: death.

And then, there was you. He noticed how difficult it was getting for you to sleep. You tried to hide your sorrow into your work, studying even more, keeping yourself busy with the school and not thinking about anything else. Since Charles was gone, Ororo took his place and you were her second hand. But you pushed yourself too hard.

Tonight he found your bedroom empty. He didn’t find you on his either, so he went to the place he knew you would be: your classroom. The door was half opened, the dim light of the lamp on your desk barely illuminated the papers on the surface. He found you deeply concentrated reading on something, hands on the sides of your head hiding your face.

“Hey,” he softly mumbled, stepping inside the empty classroom.

You quickly straightened yourself on the chair, wiping your cheeks and tried to look decent for a moment.

“Hey,” you replied back, low voice.

“Come to bed,” he said, coming to stand before you, his hand on your shoulder comforting and soothing you, making its way to the side of your neck. His big palm on your cheek, caressing the skin stained with your tears as if it was the most delicate thing. He took a look at the mess of papers and old books you loved too much to get rid of, scattered on the wooden surface.

“No, I- I can’t. Need to finish these by tomorrow…”

Logan gave you a nod and a grimace before taking your hand, motioning to come closer. You stood up, knowing he was trying to get you out of the work that was consuming you.

He observed every feature on your face, the sadness in your stare couldn’t be hidden. He just knew you too well, just like the palm of his hand, and he wanted to make you forget. At least for a little. You had taken care of him, helped him with your presence and your unique aura, bringing him comfort and peace to his broken mind. He wanted you to be fine. To feel loved.

Logan leaned just exactly to brush his lips with your own, teasing a kiss that he longed too much, his hands around your waist pulling you towards him.

“Can you just let me take care of you?”

Swallowing hard the knot on your throat, you curled your lips as much as the grief let you. “Yes,” you nodded.

With this, Logan leaned until your lips connected. Your arms around his neck pulled him as closer as you could get, feeling his chest against your own, his strong hands around your waist, softly touching you above your clothes.

Logan slowly walked you until your back hit the desk, hands roaming on your ass down to your legs, placing you to sit down over the loose pages. It might ruin the work a little, but none of you cared. Everything in your head was him, between your legs, running his wet mouth down your jaw, his stubble burning your skin as you gasped gently. Lying on your back on the desk, he began descending down your breasts, unbuttoning your blouse until he exposed you to the cold of the room.

He stopped right on your trousers, and gave you a quick glance. You were so eager, wet already. He could sense it. Your eyes were glowing and you were already trying to catch your breath by just his kisses and touch.

“You locked the door?” you whispered.

“Damn right I did,” he voiced, hoarse and low voice from just thinking of railing you right there and then.

“Then don’t stop.”

At your command, he unzipped your trousers, letting them fall down along with your heels on the floor. He then leaned to take your lips in a sloppy kiss, more urgent this time of feeling you close. You moaned, nails scratching his skin. His calloused hands explored your bare legs and things, creating friction with his hips with slow, controlled thrusts against your crotch. Logan left a trail of kisses down to your breasts, licking and tasting the saltiness of your body.

You urged him to go down where you ached the most, hand tangling on his hair. His hands grabbed the back of your thighs, spreading to him until his nose was almost buried on your panties, smelling and taking the sweetness of your scent, licking softly with his wet tongue over the fabric. A trail of moans and curses left your lips. He pulled your panties aside before diving in your pussy, licking your folds and teasing your hole with two of his fingers.

“Logan…”

His name repeatedly left your mouth like a plea, his fingers now inside you, stretching your walls for him. The noises grew obscene and nasty as he ate you out like a sweet craving he had been denying himself the pleasure for so long.

He was growing hard just by hearing your whimpers, and he needed you. You always were a fucking longing for him. Your words, your intelligence, your beauty… Everything he needed, you had it. And still, he didn’t have any idea of how such a rational, smart woman like you learned to love him so deeply.

You tugged on his hair, hips thrusting up to meet his growling mouth. You were so close, felt almost there where you wanted, but he pulled away before you finished.

Logan unzipped his jeans leaning back, admiring your blissed out eyes and glistened figure.

“Come here,” you begged in a whisper, tangling your legs around his waist.

He let out a low, dirty chuckle, feeling your hands on his boxers, freeing his erection.

“So fucking eager,” Logan breathed kissing your lips, hands supporting his weight at the sides of your head on the desk.

You tasted yourself within the kiss and you moaned at his words, your hand pumped him just enough to feel his pre cum leaking already, lining his dick with your cunt. Inch by inch, he entered slowly so you could get used to his size. Logan pecked your lips gently, kissing your cheeks and the side of your neck to get into your sensitive skin. You tugged on his white shirt so he could remove it and he ripped your bra apart right after. He loved to feel your chest pressed against his own. You gasped but paid no mind, instead urging him to move inside you.

“Shit, Logan please-”

A particular harsh trust caught your breath on your throat. You held onto dear life with your hands on his shoulders. He pounded into you rock hard and deep. So damn deep the desk was shrieking under, papers fell off and the lamp moved at the same rhythm but you hoped it won’t break.

Logan growled, inhaling your scent and tasting the sweat forming on your collarbone, your breasts bouncing against his chest. He felt your nails trailing down his back, and oh, how he wished he could get damn scars on just by fucking you like this. But the view of you, squirming under him, eyes closed, being a whimpering mess… All because of him. He was so insanely in love with your fucked out expression every time.

Your walls clenched, close to the sweet end. Logan felt himself twitching inside your warm pussy and his thrusts were getting erratic and sloppy. He filled you up, reaching his own climax first, hot white ropes of cum painting your insides. Your pussy milked him all the way as he kept spliting you open until you let yourself go, legs trembling around his waist.

For a moment, you stayed like this, with him kissing your shoulder and caressing your thigh, taking in the aftermath of your intense lovemaking.

“Thank you…”

Your whisper forced him to look up at you. There it was, that loving, sweet gaze you had reserved just for him.

He nodded, palm on your jaw holding you gently. “Of course…”

For some reason, he wanted to voice out for once those stupid three words.

I love you.

Or at least hoped you would do it first.

—

The night was cold under the moonlight, almost freezing. He wondered how he got trapped there, between the messy, withered shrubbery, fog, and the trees of a forest he never recalled knowing. He was alert, senses to the limit in case something might attack him. He felt as if he was being watched, but there were no eyes he could find around. He couldn’t see much like that.

But then a voice started to call his name from afar, claws coming out immediately as he sharpened his senses to find the owner. One, two, three times he heard, trying to find the person who was calling but there was only darkness. His heart skipped a beat when someone spoke behind him.

“Logan…”

He turned on his feet and he felt like dying again. “Jean?”

He withdrew his claws back immediately. The redhead smiled, coming closer until she touched his cheek with a soft hand before pulling away. “How are you, Logan?”

“What-”

“Are you happy now?” she asked, beaming brightly as if they were in a casual conversation instead of the darkness of the woods.

His brows furrowed. She couldn’t be real. She wasn’t there with him. Jean was gone, he had killed her because it was what she wanted. It was her way out to get what she needed; it was the key to her freedom…

“What do you mean?”

“With her… Be careful. You could kill her. Just like me,” Jean whispered, tears forming in her eyes.

Logan stepped back, trying to get away. He shook his head in disbelief, not knowing exactly why Jean was saying this to him.

“No… You’re not real…”

“Everything you love is destined to death and chaos, Logan. You shouldn’t be there,” Jean continued, her eyes switching from her usual tone to a deep black. The ground began trembling under their feet with each step of her, wind building up around. Logan felt truly scared, but somehow he couldn’t run, just stand there as she approached. “All she will know is a life of suffering if you stay. She doesn’t need that.”

“Jean-”

“She doesn’t need you!”

“Jean!”

And then it happened so fast. His claws buried on her chest, the Phoenix disappearing and leaving her to die. Jean collapsed against his body and Logan reminisced about the events of that battle, where he had to choose to be selfish or liberate her from her own demons. Logan wasn’t sure why he stabbed her like this. And when he thought Jean was dead in his arms, she started to call his name again. This time, he heard it far away.

Logan.

Logan…

Logan!

His eyes went wide open. And there you were, by his side on the bed, calling for him with a pain grimace on your face. His claws buried on your stomach.

“Logan…” you gasped and he pulled the claws out, but you were already bleeding, your nightshirt and the mattress stained.

“Shit, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry- I-”

“It’s okay,” you managed to say as he caressed your cheek before taking you in his arms hurriedly and quickly made the way out of your room through the halls. “The nightmares… I know, Logan…”

“God, I’m so sorry, please forgive me. Hank!” Logan stood outside the scientist’s door. “Hank, I need your help!”

The commotion caused some of the students to peek from their doors, and Logan waited outside what he felt it was forever under the gazes of the teenagers. It wasn’t the first time he had caused the same accident. The door opened, finally revealing a sleepy Hank putting his glasses on.

There was no need to explain what had happened.

—

“She’ll be stable soon,” Hank informed once he let Logan inside the med bay. “If you hadn’t brought her soon…”

Logan swallowed the knot on his throat, watching your unconscious figure on the stretcher. You already had received blood to cover up what you lost because of the wounds, and Logan’s claws were not minor weapons. His mind was a mess, confusion taking over. He didn’t know how he let this happen. He had nightmares pretty often, yes, but nothing like this.

Maybe Jean was right. Maybe she was trying to warn him about something. Or Jean was just trying to protect you from him. The last one felt more realistic. Logan wouldn’t hurt you, not ever. You talked about how dangerous it was to sleep together not so long ago, but you had insisted on staying. It was the first time something felt so damn real in his dreams and he wished you wouldn’t let him in your room that night…

“She’ll wake up, right?” Logan asked.

“Absolutely,” Hank nodded. “I will need to monitor her vital signs though, hopefully within a day or two she will be normal again… At least she’ll be stable until the wounds heal completely.”

Of course, Logan thought. You didn’t have a healing factor just like him.

“I’ll be right back,” Hank announced before stepping out of the room, leaving Logan alone.

He felt so guilty for doing this to you. For everything. For being the cause of your suffering now. He was a threat and mentally unstable. He was strong thanks to his genes, but he was weak on the inside. He promised countless times to protect you, but he couldn’t avoid hurting you himself. It didn’t matter that it was a very bad dream that felt disgustingly real, he had failed and hurted someone who truly loved. Again.

Taking your hand gently into his, he leaned to plant a kiss on your forehead, wishing it would be just another game from his mind.

But it wasn’t. Now, he had the person he loved the most lying unconscious and hurted because he would let his darkest thoughts consume him.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, watching you sleep peacefully. “I should have said it sooner.”

PART TWO

#logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #logan howlett x you #wolverine x you #logan howlett x female reader #wolverine smut #logan howlett smut #logan howlett angst #logan howlett fanfiction #wolverine angst #james logan howlett #x men fanfiction #wolverine fanfiction #hugh jackman fanfiction #hugh jackman wolverine

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lowkeyrobin · 6 months ago

Note

hi omg!! i just wanna say i love your tmr writing sm!??! but i recently got back into my tua phase so i was wondering if i could request a five x reader fic?

so five meets reader a few years into the apocalypse. reader survived bc they were one of the 43 kids w/ powers but never adopted into tua (i read this wanda!reader fic and those powers were super cool but again whatever you wanna do!!) they survive those 45 years together and join the commission as partners and five takes them back to 2019 with him!? feel free to do this any way you like, maybe even just one part of it but its just an idea i had!!

omg thank you!!! 🫶 ; and yes of course I love this!!!!! ; thank you for requesting, hope u enjoy!

FIVE HARGREEVES ; back to the future

summary ; you meet five, work for the commission, and end up going to 2019 with him to help him save his siblings

warnings ; language, guns/gun violence, sexual innuendos/jokes but I didn't mean for it to be? like idk, how do old people make out 😭

word count ; 1.3k

masterlist

You were immediately compelled by Five Hargreeves the second he stepped into the Commission building. Your eyes were set on him.

He was around what, 58, when you met him? Mentally, at least. You were just the same, old and wrinkly, traveling across the universe of time to keep shit collected.

You quickly learned that he was also born on October 1st, 1989, brought into the world with powers just like you.

He could blink, or teleport, and travel through time with enough given energy. You, on the other hand, harvested telekinesis and energy manipulation.

You were assigned to be partners rather quickly, considering you were both highly powerful and trained assassins. Five wasn't very fond of you at first, clearly having some trouble he needed to work through, which you wouldn't prod him about. Obviously, you kept your distance to not bother him, but made some mental notes about what you'd seen and learned from him.

After a while, he grew more fond of you, but was still clearly struggling with some stuff.

"Five, watch out!"

"Wh-"

You quickly shove him to the side, your hands glowing a pulsing red as you use your telekinesis to throw the enemy soldiers to the side, protecting your partner. They grunt as their heads split open against the pavement, having been thrown by your unforseen abilities.

Five, a hand holding his fedora down, looks up at you in awe. This is the first time he's seen you use your powers, and damn, did you look badass. He merely watches from the sidelines, hearts in his old eyes.

As the men pick themselves up, they rush toward you one by one like this was the WWE or something. You throw the first one away again using your powers, ironically into a large dumpster that closes as he hits the bottom at such force and speed. The two in the back you distract by popping the glass on the lamp posts, one shard hitting one in the eye.

The next who approaches you, you use your hands to take down, strategically placing multiple punches in his face. The last, who wasn't struck by a large chunk of glass in the eyeball, shoots at you. Five, taking notice much before you, quickly blips to you, grabs you, then blips a few feet away to protect you.

You use your telekinesis to grab a hold of his gun, then use it against him, the loud pop silencing the alleyway. You deactivate your powers and turn back to Five, throwing the gun down.

"Thanks"

He nods. "That was cool"

"Complimenting me? Since when?"

"Since now"

It wasn't until you went back to 1989 to help the Handler retrieve another powered kid that you had a deep talk. It was at a bar afterward, the two of you drowning out the deep mental toll all the killing had taken on you.

Five would never admit it, but it had an effect on him, you just showed it more. Having grown up in different environments, you expressed emotions differently.

You sit at the bar, sipping on champagne, dressed in suits like businessmen. Even at two in the morning, you looked prim and proper, with the exception of tired eyes.

"Does it ever get to you?" You ask, "Not just killing, but everything we have to do for the Commission"

He nods. "Yeah." He begins to ramble, being drunk out of his mind as he'd been taste testing damn near every drink the bar had. "Sometimes I wonder what ever happened to my family, if they're okay in the future."

"What do you mean?" You question, never having heard much about his past.

He looks down for a moment before taking another sip of his beverage. "My father adopted seven of us, kids born with powers. We lived together, were trained, and used to fight off evil." He scoffs, "I tried to show him I was powerful enough to do time jumps and ended up stranded in the apocalypse. I was alone for years, and then the Handler found me. I don't know how it started or anything, but I've been attempting to find the correct equation to travel back enough time before it happened to stop it."

You blink, processing the information he just rambled out. "Damn, I'm sorry"

He nods, "I should be able to do it soon, on that next order to kill JFK."

"What about the Handler? What about me? I don't wanna snitch on you or rat you out, I mean-"

He shakes his head. "You'll come back with me."

"What?"

Silence blankets you for a few moments.

"I could use you. Whether it be opening a hole in the space time continuum large enough for both of us or needing you and your powers to stop said apocalypse, you could be useful. You've proven to be so."

You nod again. "Hm"

He looks at you with a raised eyebrow.

You shrug. "Interesting that you thought of bringing me along in the first place."

"You're smart, you think and process quickly. Your powers could easily outmatch even most of my siblings, even without, your hand to hand combat is brilliant. You're even smarter than me, sometimes"

You bite your tongue, attempting to hide the smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Well thanks, Hargreeves"

"It's the truth, Y/n"

"Don't try and flatter me, I have a big ego"

He did, in fact, flatter you, maybe a little too much at that. God forbid that hotel with one bed that you had to share that night to rest before heading back to work. Who knew that old man was so good at romance and kissing? Kinda weird for someone who was stuck in an apocalyptic hell for 40 years.

"Go to bed, Five"

"I'm shocked you're not asking for another kiss"

"Shut the fuck up"

You didn't realize how miserable 1963 really was. From the racism and queerphobia to the overall miserable looking farm life, or maybe it was just Texas. For being so well traveled, you really weren't.

You hide behind a white picket fence with Five, accompanying him to make sure JFK was assassinated. A sniper rifle rests in a case you were carrying for him, the sound of parade music and crowd goers filling your ears.

He looks to you, giving you that sneaky little smile and nod. You set the case down as he does the same with the briefcase, making sure to stay as low as you could beside this parking lot.

You watch as a blue aura squiggles around his hands, another larger hole a few feet in front of him. He stretches it out, creating sparks of lightning, crackles of thunder audible like he was creating a storm to the future. As he gives you the nod, a fire extinguisher lands at your feet, having been thrown through on the other side.

Your furrowed eyebrows are visible to Five, who sighs. You were definitely landing in the right place.

You raise your hands toward the blue storm, a red glow illuminating it as you pull it open further, long enough to settle it, then quickly jump in.

Five grabs your hand, and with one last look, pulls you into the portal back to the future.

You fall to the ground, hair a mess, your suit now too big for your body.

You look up, having landed on your ass next to Five. A group of what you supposed were his siblings, stare at him in awe and confusion. He stands up, brushing the dust from his clothes. He stretches a hand out for you, helping you up from the ground covered in dead leaves.

The siblings, eyes widened and jaws dropped, watch as you both casually walk inside the mansion you landed in the middle of. They were one hundred percent questioning how you were here, where Five had been, and who you were.

But that didn't matter at the moment. What did matter was getting that old man now trapped in his pubescent body some coffee.

#lowkeyrobin #gn reader #gender neutral reader #they/them reader #five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves #the umbrella academy x reader #umbrella academy x reader #the umbrella academy

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senanatheskenana · 1 year ago

Text

The Sinclair Twins With Baby Fever

This contains smut so minors do not engage thank you. Contains graphic depictions of sex/ sexual acts.

(Also i havent written smut in a while so im sorry if its bad lmao)

Bo Sinclair

Bo never thought he'd want kids.

He thought they were sort of like inconveniences from how his parents acted when they were kids.

But that idea slowly began to change after meeting you

For one, it takes two people to make one, and in a ghost town, there isn't an abundance of living women.

And Bo didn't really believe he would be a good parent.

However, it all flipped rather suddenly for Bo.

You had been showing him photos from an old vacation you went on with family and he stumbled across one of you and your niece.

A tiny one-year-old, in cute pink dungarees, all swaddled up in your arms with big blue eyes and one of her chunky hands in her mouth on an exploration.

Bo admitted that it was rather cute and you started to ramble about the times you've looked after family and children.

And it occurs to Bo that while he may not be wonderful with children, you certainly were.

The thought comes along all too suddenly for his liking and before he knows what he's doing, he's imagining you with your baby- his baby.

It makes his chest flutter, the image of your swollen belly and milk-filled chest burning into his eyes.

He tries to give it some serious thought, weighing up the pros and cons of such an important choice.

Bo of course brought it up to you. He wasn't going to just grin and bear the need he was now experiencing.

~~~~~

"Oh my god," you grin up at him. He scowls and huffs, crossing his arms over his chest.

"What? I don't see what the big deal is." he's still pouting and you have to admit he looks pretty cute like that, with blushy cheeks.

"Bo, you've got baby fever!" you giggle and him as he huffs again.

Bo throws his arms up in the air and sighs. He knows he isn't going to win that battle. "Look did you want to have a baby or not, sugar?"

You give him a long drawn-out silence, leaving him in anticipation for what he deems to be far too long, however, he doesn't want to push his luck on the situation.

You finally give him a smile and a wink, "Of course I do, Bo." he fights back a smile and slinks closer to you to give you a peck on the cheek but lets out a chuckle when you pull him back again for a proper kiss.

He smirks and practically throws you into the bedroom, not wasting a moment to take off his shirt and throw it to the side. He tugs down his jeans and you both begin to shed clothing as fast as possible. You can hear the clink of your husband's belt hitting the floor over the sound of your loud heartbeat. He finally moves to slot himself between your thighs, grinding against your clothed heat.

Bo hasn't felt this nervous in a long time. Normally, sex is rough and teasing with Bo, but every little touch against him feels like fire and it has him moaning into your chest like a virgin. The image of your swollen belly ingrains itself into his mind again, and he feels himself becoming too needy to pace himself. Before he can fully grasp what he's doing, he's already rutting into you with quick deep thrusts. He doesn't bother pulling out and wasting time on long thrusts, choosing to just chase the pleasure you both want so badly.

Bo loves the way you look under him like this, eyes nearly closed and rolling back with your mouth agape from the breathless moans you're making after every rub of his cock against your g-spot. He can feel you tightening around him, and he honestly can't recall a better feeling than this. He can tell you're going to cum soon with how loud you are and how your hips try to chase his.

Bo slips a hand between you both and plants it on your folds. He'll be damned if he was going to cum this soon without you. You let out a moan that sounds like it was straight out of a porno, and Bo feels it travel like electricity down to his groin. You can feel him twitch deep inside you, kissing against your internal ridges. You're so tight that Bo can barely move without moaning like a bitch.

He comes close to your face, watching your fucked out expression closely. His fingers speed up, deftly finding your clit and circling it like he's begging for you to cum around him. "'Gonna cum, sugar?" his southern drawl drags you out of your fever dream state and you nod up at him, failing to find words anymore. You grip his shoulders and you wrap your thighs around his waist. He laughs at the idea that you're stopping him from pulling out. You cum and he can feel you completely spasm around his cock. Bo knows he can't take another second of that intense pleasure before he's cumming so hard he's seeing coloured patches in his vision, moaning as he stills inside of you. Hot ropes of his cum spurt out into you, making you gasp from the new feeling.

Bo nearly collapses on top of you after, head laying on your comfortable chest while your fingers rake through his wet hair. He can't bring himself to pull out of you just yet, and he's still breathless from finishing inside you for the first time. He can feel your thighs rocking still with the aftershocks of the experience. He kisses your chest lightly and looks up at you.

"I love you, Sugar," he murmurs softly against your skin, "I love you so much."

You don't miss how one of his hands rubs gentle circles into your tummy.

Vincent Sinclair

Vincent's biggest problem is his lack of communication. He can't simply speak about how he's feeling most of the time.

If he could, you may have found out about this sooner.

Vincent has always been more tolerant of children than Bo was so he experienced this quite early on but didn't know how to approach you about it.

He was worried that you would think he was weird or that you wouldn't want kids and then leave him.

So for months, he suffered in silence, fighting the urge to paint your insides with himself, and fantasising about what life would be like if you had a baby.

He's touched himself to the thought of you swollen and glowing, and imagining it's you he's coming in before the reality sets in again and he feels disgusted with himself once more.

You've started to notice his hesitance in intimate moments and you finally confront him, asking if he doesn't think you're attractive anymore.

He moves his hand to different parts of the basement, all filled with paintings and sculptures of you. It was a stupid thing to ask, of course, he thought you were gorgeous.

~~~~~

So you finally ask him what the problem was, and why he was suddenly not willing to touch you.

Vincent is of course quiet. He, in all honesty, was trying to hold off sex because he didn't feel he could trust himself to pull out anymore. He was worried that the temptation would be too great and he wouldn't be able to help himself. He's not really sure how he can say that and not come off as a huge pervert.

So he just comes close to you and embraces you momentarily, before placing a hand on your abdomen. It's just barely present but you can feel the touch. Then he takes his hands and makes a cradling motion.

For a moment you're confused. What does he mean by 'baby'? until it clicks in your mind. Did Vincent think you were pregnant? Was that why he was being so careful?

"Vinny, sweetheart, I'm not pregnant you dont need to worry about hurting me or anything-" Before you can finish, Vincent shakes his head and begins to sign.

'I know he looks at you to make sure you're following him, 'I think that's the problem'

Some sort of realisation becomes apparent to you and you ask the question he's been wanting to ask for months.

"Do you... Want a baby?"

He waits a moment and then nods before looking down. He begins signing again but doesn't look up, he doesn't want to see your grossed-out face.

'I was scared to force something on you but I wasn't sure how to say it. I didn't think I could trust my body during sex anymore.'

Your heart swells a little bit at the confession. Had Vincent been beating himself up for wanting to get you pregnant?

"I think I want a baby too, Vince" you giggle when his head shoots up from looking down at the floor. He signs too quickly for you to follow but you can just about catch the words 'Angel' and 'love'.

He stops signing and abruptly picks you up, spinning you before holding you bridal style in his arms. He hasn't said but you have an idea of where he's taking you. Vincent kicks the door to your shared bedroom open and gently places you on the covers. He removes his own clothing- save for his mask- and then patiently removes your own, kissing the skin that is revealed.

Usually, Vincent gets quite needy during these moments, and his touch is feverish. He's painfully hard at this point, but he wants to savour you. He doesn't want to lose himself just yet.

You're the one who removes his mask, taking in his flushed face and pulling him closer for a kiss. He can't begin to describe how much he loves you at this moment. He puts little weight on you as he traps you on the bed between his arms.

You make a noise of surprise when he pulls back from you to lean on his feet. You're about to ask what he's doing but he's already sliding down your body to slot his head between your thighs. He gives the left of a small nip before kissing it again. Your core floods with anticipation when he gazes up at you like that. He waits for you to push his face closer to your folds to make sure you're okay. As soon as you do, he pushes his whole face against you, breathing you in and flattening his large tongue against your pussy. He lets out a raspy moan before he truly begins to lick. You know what's coming and the anticipation makes your thighs shudder around his head.

He looks up through his hair to see you throw your head back in pleasure. He's always loved how you look like this, with his head between your thighs and your hands in his hair. The sight is so hot that he knows he could probably finish from it alone.

Your breath hitches when you feel his hand travel from your hip to your folds. He uses his hand to part them before he gives a few kitten licks to your clit. His own eyes roll back as you spasm, and he continues that motion, fingers sliding into your wet core. He moves his two fingers slow and deep inside you, crooking them upwards halfway through each languid thrust. And just like that he can feel you tightening on his fingers with each lick and movement. Your moans get louder but he continues, spurred on by the look of pleasure you give him.

Your hips rut against his face and he moans against your clit, taking it into his mouth and sucking it. Just like that his fingers bring you over the edge, moaning and shaking as you wrap your legs around his face. Vincent removes his fingers and pushes his face into you again, licking up your juice before rising once more to be above you. You still look fucked out and he takes pride it in. You pull him in and kiss him deeply.

Vincent's hands travel down your thighs and stop at your knees. You briefly wonder what he's doing before he pushes them up and pins your legs against your chest. He's never tried this angle before.

But he likes it. A lot.

You can see from his expression that he's enjoying the view and briefly his eyes flicker between you and a sketchbook. You grab his face gently and make him look at you.

"You can draw later. Right now I want you to fuck me, Vincent"

His one good eye widens as if to say 'Yes ma'am' and before you know it, he's slotting himself into you, using his body weight to keep your legs pinned against your chest. Already he's so deep inside you that he's pushing against your sweet spot without trying. Vincent takes a moment to gather himself- he doesn't think he's ever been this deep inside you and suddenly he loves this position even more. He begins to roll his hips against you slowly, teasingly. He knows you want more so he begins to move, throwing a fair amount of his body weight into each deep thrust. Vincent can hear your breathless moan with each slap of his hips against your backside. He leans down on his strong left arm and uses his right to fondle your bouncing chest, making eye contact with you. It's your half-lidded hazy expression that makes his heart hammer in his chest. Vincent mouths the words 'I love you' and 'so pretty' over and over like a chant.

He's sure you can feel every little twitch and pulse of his cock with how tight you are around him. Fuck, he thinks, you feel so good. He's missed your pretty cunt so much and he's certain you've realised by how desperate his movement is becoming- degrading from measured, long, strong thrusts to irregular, quick jabs accompanied by crackly whimpers of pleasure. He's worried that he'll cum first now so he pulls his hand from your chest and pushes it between your folds to play with your clit.

A low, fractured murmur of "G-Gon' cu-um" falls from his open mouth and you're shocked for a moment.

Vincent stills against you and you feel your insides flood with warmth. The feeling along with his fingers still rubbing you tenderly, makes your own orgasm wash over you and he moans again as your pussy sucks him in further. He waits until you both finish before slowly pulling out of you, globs of excess cum seeping out of you. He uses his fingers to scoop the leaking cum up and fingers it back inside of you, humming when he sees that it isn't leaking anymore.

"I love you, Vinny," he looks at you and smiles, placing a pillow under your hips. He comes back to you with a flannel and washes the sweat from you and places a kiss on your forehead. Vincent lays beside you on the bed, placing his head against your chest and running his palm over the soft part of your tummy.

#xreader #bo sinclair x reader #house of wax 2005 #house of wax x reader #vincent sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair #bo sinclair #slasher x reader #slashers #slasher fucker

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sabsturned · 5 months ago

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M. Sturniolo - Three Doors Down

SEE PINNED POST FOR NAVIGATION

comment on this post to be added to my taglist :-)

pairing: matt x fem!reader

contains: angst, mentions of a drinking and smoking parent, crying

summary: you and matt used to be best friends. you were closer to him than anyone else you know, and you’ve always secretly had a crush on him. the day you told him, you guys stopped talking. tonight was prom night, and you had no guys or even friends to go with. all you could do was sit in the corner and watch him dance with his girlfriend, sofia.

a/n: first fic!!! i’m rlly excited about this one. it’s based off of the song ‘three doors down’ by joy. this was my shit in 2022 and i don’t get why it wasn’t talked about more. ALSO I HAVE A QUESTION: what are anons??? also please leave requests for fics!! i’m literally out of ideas. THATS IT!! enjoy the fic :))

key: matt y/n sofia

and i’m in the corner

dying of boredom

catching light from the shine

of his girlfriend’s tiara

me and matt were best friends. me and the boy three doors down. i mean, the best word to describe us was inseparable. we hung out all the time—at school, at home, over the weekends, at parties—everywhere i went, he went, and everywhere he went, i went.

it started when we were both eight years old. i was trying to avoid my mom at all costs because when she drank, she got mean. i went outside, picking all the small white flowers out of the ground. maybe if i gave my mom flowers, she would cheer up, and she wouldn’t hurt me. at least that’s what i thought.

i picked a yellow dandelion, adding it to my bouquet of flowers when i saw a boy around my age riding on a skateboard. he was riding it on circles in his driveway. suddenly the only thing my eyes were looking at was his curly brunette hair. his eyes were a beautiful color of blue. not as deep as an ocean, but not as light as the sky. all i knew was that they were perfect and they consumed me. his cheeks were a shade of red, probably because of the humidity. i’ll never forget the way he looked at me for the first time; the way his eyes lit up, the way his smile widened, showing off the dimple on his left cheek, the way the world around us faded.

his hand slowly moved up, waving at me. my smile grew. i waved back.

whenever my mom started drinking, i just went outside, where he was every afternoon on his skateboard. he tried teaching me to ride it, but i wasn’t very good. we played in his backyard with his brothers and their dog, trevor. sometimes they brought out their sprinkler on a really hot day, and we all just played like kids. i would give anything to be a kid with them again.

when we were in the same homeroom for third grade, we were both ecstatic. we were always partners in group work, always played together at recess, always ate together at lunch. everybody always made fun of us, and assumed we were dating or something. but we didn’t care.

everything was perfect. up until eighth grade. ever since me and matt met, i’ve always kind of liked him. i never really had the courage to tell him, up until the day before our eighth grade dance.

i confessed my feelings for him. i didn’t say much really. i just told him i liked him and asked if he wanted to go on a date. but i don’t think he felt the same.

he said he was busy.

all contact was cut after that. no more late night calls, no more weekend sleepovers, no more study sessions after school.

and it’s all my fault. i ruined everything. if i wouldn’t have said all of that, we wouldn’t have been here. we would have still been friends. we would have gone to prom together. we would have been falling asleep on call together. we would have still been as inseparable as we were when we were kids.

all of this was my fault.

now i’m at prom. the speakers blasted a pop song i don’t know the name of. all of the kids in the room were dancing, jumping around, making out in the bathroom, but i was sitting in the corner.

i would have gone home, but i was trying to avoid being near my mom at all costs. so i was just there, dying of boredom.

i caught a glimpse of her tiara. the plastic gems glistened in the dim light of the room. how was sofia able to wear cheap plastic on her head and still manage to look absolutely beautiful.

i’m so jealous of sofia. she’s a cheerleader. she’s skinny, she’s pretty, she won prom queen, and worst of all, she was matt’s girlfriend. we have had some interactions before, and i hate talking about her negatively because she is so incredibly sweet. like i’ve never met a popular girl so nice. it made it harder to hate her the way i wanted to.

her silky straight hair ran down her back, and her wide smile could light up a whole room. her dress was fabulous too. it was a really pretty shade of lavender, and it was sparkly. it complimented her figure so well. i mean, she looked like an absolute goddess.

her hands were wrapped around matt’s neck as they danced to the slow music playing. it hurt so bad. i should be over matt by now, i mean, it’s been four years. but i wasn’t over him. i wasn’t over his curly brunette hair, his beautiful blue eyes, the dimple that appeared on his left cheek whenever he would smile. i wasn’t over our late night phone calls, our weekend sleepovers, our study sessions after school. i wasn’t over him. and i never would be.

watching them dance together made me sick. the eye contact, how touchy they were. i decided to go get some punch to distract myself. i wanted to go home so bad, but a broken heart was less noticeable than the burn mark of a cigarette.

the loud music drowned out the sound of the punch splashing into the red cup. i turned around to go back to the corner i was sitting in, when a tall figure bumped into me. thankfully, i didn’t spill any punch on my dress.

“oh, sorry. i should have been watching where i was-“ my breathing stopped when i realized who i had just bumped into. his curly brunette hair, his beautiful blue eyes. matt.

“that’s alright-“ he stopped talking when he saw me. “oh, um, hey.” he said, one hand rubbing the back of his neck.

“hi.” i responded.

“you look.. amazing.” he complimented.

“oh, thanks. you too.”

“are you having fun?” no. not when she’s the one you’re dancing with. not when i’m still thinking about you even after all these years.

“yeah, just hanging out with my friends. a night to remember.” i lied.

“yeah.” he laughed.

there was a moment of silence where we just looked at each other. the first time i’ve looked in his beautiful blue eyes in years. the first time we’ve had an interaction in years.

“hey baby, they’re playing my favorite, c’mon!” sofia ran over, grabbing chris by the arm, giving me a small wave before dragging him back to the dance floor.

“nice seeing you y/n.” he voiced, before him and sofia continued dancing together.

i tried to say something back, but nothing came out. i forgot how to speak, i forgot how to breathe. before i knew it, the tears were already falling out of my eyes.

i needed to leave. thankfully, i only live a few blocks from the school, so i could just walk home. the only thing i could think about was how i just needed to be anywhere else but this school.

i shoved open the doors, walking out into the cold rain. it was pouring outside. normally, i really liked rain. me and matt used to lay in the rain together. it’s where we had our most meaningful conversations, and shared our deepest thoughts. but i wasn’t enjoying it right now. every drop felt like cupid pulling an arrow out of me. i rushed home as quick as i possibly could, the rain soaking my hair, and the tears rushing down my face. i actually couldn’t even tell if i was crying anymore. the rain made it hard to tell.

i was able to sneak past my mom so she wouldn’t see i went out. i ran up the stairs and into my room, quietly shutting the door behind me. i let out loud sobs into my hands, my rain soaked body dripping rain into a puddle beneath me. i looked up and saw the picture we made in fourth grade art class together, my sobs growing louder. i looked next to it. a signed baseball from a game we went to together sat on the shelf, along with a scrapbook of our seventh grade summer. suddenly, my room was filled with memories of us. i need to destroy it all.

i took the canvas off of the wall, grabbing my scissors and stabbing it until you couldn’t see the picture anymore. i took the scrapbook off of the shelf, ripping out the pages, cutting them into small pieces. i grabbed the baseball, opened my window, and threw it. i didn’t see where it landed. i was just glad it was out of my sight. i ripped the cards and gifts he made me for my birthdays, and christmas, and valentine’s day, ripping and cutting them up. then the stuffed bear he got me. my favorite animal. i cut that open, ripping out the stuffing. until nothing else was left. i sighed, my sobs growing louder.

i looked down and noticed my heels, stained with punch. the rain should have washed it off. the punch reminded me of him. i must have missed when it fell out of my cup and onto my shoes. i kicked them off, throwing them under my bed.

i looked down at my dress, noticing the color of it. it was the same shade of blue as his eyes. his beautiful blue eyes. i groaned out loud, ripping my dress off and throwing it in my closet. everything reminded me of him. the clothes i wore when we hung out, the sheets we laid in, the desk he sat at while we talked for hours, the rug we sat on when we played board games, the floor, the walls, the ceiling, the window, everything. it was like he was a memory that i couldn’t get rid of.

but maybe this is how it’s supposed to be. maybe we aren’t meant to have late night phone calls. maybe we aren’t meant to have weekend sleepovers. maybe we aren’t meant to have study sessions after school. maybe we just aren’t meant to be. maybe he belongs with sofia. maybe we aren’t supposed to be together, me and the boy three doors down.

angst is one of my favorite things to write. it’s so therapeutic to me. so i hope you enjoyed this and please give me your feedback in the comments! :D

- thanks for reading!! with love, sabrina 🤍🎀

taglist:: @muchloveforhacker @saartjuhh @anonymousmfs @mylove4lana @chrissfavhoe @sturniolo101 @h3arts4harry @hereforthwtripletsfr @pepsixchris @ch3rrywine-reposts @amaliarosewood @gwennybenny @memea32221 @urfavstromboli

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leclercloml · 1 year ago

Text

Enchanted to meet you | CL16

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x singer!reader

Summary: everyone's favourite swiftie is finally off the market, but who's that lucky guy?

Genre: SMAU

warnings: google translated french, grammar mistakes, incorrect time line to match the story line

Author's note: i reached the picture limitation so I'll do a part 2 of this as soon as I can and I'm still not very good at this, and I'm completely out of ideas, so please bare it 🫶🏻

fc: Gracie Abrams

yourinstagram

liked by oliviarodrigo, taylorswift and 23,45,873 others

yourinstagram uh-oh, I'm fallin' in love.

view comments

sabrinacarpenter oh no, I'm falling in love again

⤷username hahahahaha it's just a taylor swift reference guysss hahahahaha nothing too serious

⤷username Sabrina what do you know, please tell your kids too babe.

username mother mother mother

oliviarodrigo i think I know who it is

⤷conangray SHE TOLD YOU??!!

⤷oliviarodrigo she tells me everything

⤷username lmaaaoo Olivia knowing who's y/n love intrest is and conan going crazy over it is my new favourite thing

username whoever is her new boyfriend and if he's reading this, sweetheart sleep with one eye open

Twitter

Instagram

charles_leclerc

milan, italy

liked by yourinstagram, joris_trouche and 67,45,745 others

charles_leclerc what a beautiful show, love the songs, love the performance, thank you so much for inviting me to this beautiful event.

tagged: yourinstagram

view comments

yourinstagram I'm glad you had fun

⤷carlossainz55 he really did he won't stop humming "where do we go now"

⤷charles_leclerc hey! it's a good song

⤷username helloo?? What is happening??!!

username I still can't believe it's real, it feels like a weird fever dream 😭

username okay but are we not gonna talk about that caption and how girlfriend she looks in the 2nd slide??

⤷username finally! I was waiting for someone to say this!

username okay guys here me out, first y/n posting her pictures with caption "uh-oh I'm falling in love" which is a lyrics from Taylor Swift song called labyrinth and basically confirming she's in love and probably dating someone and then Olivia officially confirming it by commenting "I think I know who it is" and then Charles out of blue arriving at y/n concert which by looking at caption it seems like he was invited and the 2nd slide, he was in front row and the picture look way too "girlfriend" and charles is also single and so is y/n, so maybe...MAYBE Charles might be y/n new boyfriend?

⤷username ma'am the delusion is crazy

⤷username I've connected the two dots.

⤷username you didn't connect shit.

⤷username I've connected them.

yourinstagram added to story

comment disabled

Twitter

Instagram

liked by scuderiaferrari , yourinstagram and 45,673,459 others

f1 CHARLES LECLERC IS THE WINNER OF 2023 ITALIAN GRAND PRIX! 🏆❤️

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scuderiaferrari that's how we win a home race 💚🤍❤️

⤷username can't believe you guys didn't fucked up his race

username call me delusional but y/n is his lucky charm

⤷username no but fr

⤷username listen @/scuderiaferrari you guys need to invite her to all of the races now.

⤷scuderiaferrari on it 🫡

charles_leclerc

liked by yourinstagram, carlossainz55 and 45,274,523 others

charles_leclerc what a win! 1-2 brought it home for all of the tifosi's out there! And also congratulations to Carlos on P2! That's how we win it and also thanks to all of the fans, team and my lucky charm! Forza Ferrari Sempre 💚🤍❤️

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carlossainz55 congratulations on the win mate ❤️!

⤷charles_leclerc thanks mate! congratulations on the podium!

yourinstagram SO SO SO PROUD OF YOU AND CARLOS!

⤷charles_leclerc couldn't have done I without you my lucky charm ��

⤷username AHHHHHH SHE IS HIS LUCKY CHARM SCREAMING CRYING BANGING MY HEAD AGAINST THE WALL!

⤷username just confirm your relationship already 😭😭

⤷username i don't think we need a confirmation this is already so obvious

landonorris congratulations mate!

liked by charles_leclerc and yourinstagram

username the ONLY driver to beat RedBull this year! @/yourinstagram please come to all of the races from now on 🙏

⤷yourinstagram I'll try my best 🤍

⤷username AHHHHHH!!!

PS: this is sooooo rushed I'm so sorry, I'll do a part 2 as soon as I can! Please give feedbacks 🫶🏻

Part 2!!

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc smau #charles leclerc social media au #f1 driver x reader #charles leclerc x you #leclercloml

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osarina · 10 months ago

Text

ᡣ𐭩 YOU AND ME (ALWAYS FOREVER)!

FEATURING: dark era!dazai osamu

SUMMARY: more than friends, not quite lovers. that's been your relationship with dazai osamu for as long as you can remember. you didn't want to push him, and you gave him plenty of chances, but there's only so long you can wait for someone. you thought you would be better off moving on—you were wrong, of course. (wordcount: 4.8k; sfw; angst (???) but with a happy ending)

AUTHOR'S NOTES: dark era dazai </3 my heart, i got a sudden urge to write for him and i wanted it to be fluff but then i got this idea and just had to go with it (warnings: fem!reader, smoking & drinking, suicide attempt mentions)

In your defense, you were never dating Dazai Osamu.

Not for a lack of trying on your part, of course. You’ve made your interest in him clear since you met him at sixteen during the Dragon’s Head Conflict, when Mori Ougai pulled you back from where you were stationed in Kyoto dealing with his associates to help with the declining situation in Yokohama. And you’d thought he felt similarly to you. You really did. The two of you had become inseparable within weeks of knowing each other, such a swift and strong connection that it almost felt unreal. You’d heard rumors of him, of course, before coming back to Yokohama—the infamous Demon Prodigy that Mori had brought in and groomed into becoming his heir, ruthless and cold and so terrifyingly intelligent that he had the entire upper echelon of the Port Mafia on edge.

By the time you got back to Yokohama, he’d already had a heavy reputation following him, dark shadows clinging to him like a second skin. Demon Prodigy. Black Wraith. So many monikers attached to him, but he never really felt like the monster that everyone claimed him to be.

He and Nakahara Chuuya had been the one sent to retrieve you from Yokohama Station, an area very close to the heart of the gang conflict, and even from the first meeting, he’d always been… well, you’re not going to say normal because he’s not normal. He’s always had an unnerving air about him, eyes a bit too cold and dark, smile a bit too teethy, but he’s always come across as just another kid your age. Maybe a bit lonelier than most, which could be off-putting to other people, but it never bothered you. And yes, you’ve seen the way other members of the Mafia treat him—they’re scared of him, go to extreme lengths so as to not cross paths with him, but you’ve never seen him in the same light they do.

Well, not until recently, at least.

Again. In your defense, you were never dating him.

But you’d known he cared about you as more than a friend. And you’d cared about him as more than a friend too. And you waited. You waited almost two years for him to say something. You didn’t want to do it yourself, you know Dazai is flighty and he’s not used to emotions, and you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable, but god, there’s only so much waiting you can take before you start to give up.

When the two year mark hit, you’d become convinced that Dazai was never going to act on his feelings for you; instead, he’d prefer to wait it out until they passed, and if they never did, he’d just pretend they didn’t exist at all. You can’t really blame him, the Mafia is not a place conducive for relationships, it’s only a matter of time before your luck runs out and one of you end up dead by a bullet through the head or captured by the enemy, and the thought of getting attached to someone only to lose them is enough to scare anyone away.

But you don’t want to live your life in fear, no matter how short it may be, and you also don’t want to live it alone. So when an opportunity arose at a cafe near the main headquarters, where you met a civilian around your age who showed immediate interest in you, you jumped on it. And it’d caught a lot of people off guard—Kouyou was surprised, Chuuya was baffled and questioning what a civilian could possibly have that interested you, even Mori gave you a double take and an odd look the first time he overheard Elise interrogating you about your new boyfriend.

But no one took it as poorly as Dazai.

Your throat feels tight as you remember the hurt expression that crossed over his face when you told him. It was so brief and so foreign of an expression to see on his face that you’d thought you’d imagined it, he was quick to school his expression back into a cold and closed-off one (one that he’d never directed toward you before that moment), but there was no mistaking the way the corner of his lip twitched and the way he suddenly couldn’t meet your eyes.

How nice, he’d told you, voice frighteningly icy, acidic, even, before he made a half-assed excuse about a mission that you knew he wasn’t assigned to. And it was so unlike him to offer himself up to handle missions, usually Mori has to force him with threats of giving Chuuya his executive position for him to do anything that makes him extend the barest amount of effort . But he did, and he handled it, very bloodily and uncharacteristically inefficient, as if he was releasing all of his pent up rage onto the unfortunate souls who happened to stumble into Port Mafia territory.

You were never, at any point, dating Dazai Osamu.

You think you’ve told yourself it hundreds of times over the past three months, throwing yourself into your work and enjoying a relationship with a boy who clearly was invested in you and cares about you in a way that Dazai Osamu would never allow himself to admit. You also think that Dazai Osamu has no right being as bitter and angry as he is—you gave him two years to come to terms with his feelings and make a move, you’ve made your own subtle hints that he promptly ignored. If he wanted to be with you, he blew his chance a hundredfold, and he can go screw off if he thinks he can be upset about it only after you’d found someone else.

Which is what he did, pretty much, and it was a lot harder than you expected—going from talking to him every waking second of every day, seeking him out whenever you have free time and vice versa, to only seeing him during the joint meetings between the executives and sub executives, where even then, he wouldn’t even spare you a glance. It was hard, and deep down, you don’t think being able to experience an actual relationship was worth losing your best friend, but the damage had already been done by that point, so you could only lie in the bed you made.

And you did enjoy the relationship. The boy you’d met was sweet. He was good. He was impressively smart—a government and law major at one of the most prestigious universities in this part of the country—and humble to a fault.

But he wasn’t Dazai.

You knew in your heart that you didn’t want sweet or good, no matter how much you tried to convince yourself otherwise. You didn’t want the type of smart that he was, top of his class and on track for law school, seeking out a job as a public defender in Tokyo. You wanted the type of smart Dazai was, wicked and devious, putting together vicious and efficient strategies to take down enemies of the Mafia, on track for taking over the position as boss in the future. You wanted him for all of his twisted moralities and questionable thoughts.

And it was unfair to you, and it was unfair to Dazai, and most importantly it was unfair to the boy you kept leading on, that you’ve refused to acknowledge this for as long as you have just for the chance of experiencing a real relationship.

Which is why you stand here now, outside the infamous Bar Lupin that you know Dazai has been drinking himself into oblivion at everyday for the past three months, notably single and possibly about to meet your end at the hands of a drunken and scorned Mafia executive.

You think you must look like a fool right now. You’ve been standing right outside the door in the rain for fifteen minutes debating on whether or not you should actually go in. You’re nervous, and that makes you sad because you’ve never been nervous to talk to Dazai before, and you’re not nervous because you’re scared of him, you’re nervous because you don’t think you have the balls to actually confront him, knowing that you’d genuinely hurt the boy that everyone claimed didn’t have the emotions to be hurt. He let you in when he doesn’t let anyone in, and you chose to be careless and you chose to give up, and you hurt him.

And you remind yourself again: you were not dating Dazai Osamu. You remind yourself that you gave him chances, he had opportunities, and he chose not to take them. You remind yourself that he’s just as at fault as you are for the falling out, but you can’t help but also remind yourself that he was the one that came out the most hurt by the situation. Yes, him cutting himself off from you was upsetting, but you didn’t have to watch him go around happy in a relationship with someone else. He did.

With that thought in mind, you push the door open to the bar. A soft bell rings above you and instantly, three heads swivel in your direction: the bartender, and two men that you recognize as Sakaguchi Ango, one of the Port Mafia’s special intelligence agents, and Oda Sakunosuke, who you only know through Dazai’s high praise of the man from when the two of you were still on speaking terms. The only person in the room who matters to you doesn’t even bother to look to see who entered the bar, one hand circling the glass of whiskey in front of him while a cigarette dangles from the other. You watch as he lifts it to his lips to take a long drag, head falling tilting back to look up at the ceiling as he exhales a cloud of smoke, seemingly unbothered by your presence.

Already, you feel as if you’ve made a mistake, but you force yourself to continue.

The bartender nods his head in respect to you, although you can’t help but notice he flashes a wary look to Dazai. You wonder, pitifully, how much he’s said about you in this place. Sakaguchi and Oda share a look with one another. Both of them speak a low murmur of your name, inclining their head dutifully—you’re not quite an executive yet, but with the Piano Man of the Flags dead, you and Chuuya are fighting for the next spot to open up. Chuuya will likely be the one to get it, which you think he deserves from all of the heavy lifting he’s done on operations the past two years, but you feel a bit awkward when they give you your due respect when you're here with your tail between your legs trying to talk to Dazai.

Sakaguchi and Oda take their leave when you arrive, giving short goodbyes to Dazai, telling them that they’ll see him another day, and the bartender makes a fumbled excuse about going to the back to restock, leaving you alone with Dazai. Internally, you wither just a bit because you think if they’d stayed, Dazai might keep a handle on himself because you know he views Oda highly; instead, they left you in the lion’s den alone. Which you might deserve, but you digress.

You let out a quiet puff of air as you make your way over to the bar stool next to Dazai, taking a seat in it carefully. Still, he doesn’t look at you, but you look at him and the aching in your chest returns tenfold as your gaze sweeps over him fully for the first time in months. During the joint meetings between the executives and sub-executives, you were always sure to keep your glances short and sweet, not wanting to risk any lingering looks, but now, you can look at him in his entirety for the first time since that fateful discussion three months ago.

He hasn’t changed much. Or, well, that’s a lie. He’s definitely changed. The circles beneath his eye are darker, his expression a carefully constructed blank mask. You think he might’ve lost some weight, his coat has always been big on him but the way it hangs over his shoulders now is looser than it was before. If it weren’t for the way his fingers were tense around his glass of whiskey, you’d have thought he was entirely unperturbed by your arrival.

You don’t know what to say, and you know you need to be the first to speak because you’re the one that showed up here to talk to him, but now that you’re sitting in front of him you’re floundering for words. You could just come out and say that you broke up with your boyfriend, but you feel like that would be a bit weird, and he’d probably laugh in your face and make a comment about how he doesn’t care. You could ask him how he’s been, but you think he might genuinely put a bullet in you for trying to make small talk with him like that right now.

The longer you stay silent, the more awkward it becomes, and you want to cry because you’ve never been awkward with Dazai before, and for a brief second, you wonder if things really have changed too much to go back to how they were.

Finally, you decide to just come out and say, bracing yourself for the inevitable derisive words that are going to leave his lips. “I broke up with him.”

Dazai’s scoff is loud and instantaneous, you bite your tongue, eyes sliding shut as you turn to face ahead instead of looking at him. Cowardly, you know, but you don’t want to see the sneer on his face when he asks you why he should care.

But he doesn’t say that. He doesn’t say anything at first. If you were looking at him, you’d see the way his cold expression shifted into a more conflicted one, still staring ahead because he can’t bring himself to look at you. You count each passing second, and it’s agonizing waiting for him to speak, a part of you thinks that maybe he won’t, and you’ll just have to leave the bar with your tail between your legs, humiliated.

But then he does.

“Why?” he finally asks coolly, and your eyes snap open and your gaze slides over to him when you realize he did not, in fact, hit you with the derogation you expected.

He still isn’t looking at you, and you watch as he lifts his free hand back to his lips, taking another long drag of his cigarette as he waits for your response. You swallow thickly when you try to figure out what to say next.

What you want to say is ‘because he wasn’t you,’ but you’re not ready to bare yourself vulnerable in front of him like that when he’s still so unpredictable. Just because he didn’t immediately hit you with the harsh words you expected, doesn’t mean he isn’t going to lure you in just to slap you in the face with it, which is how you’re sure he perceived what you did three months ago.

Rather, you say quietly: “He was boring, I guess.”

It’s a lie. Well, a partial lie, at least. He was a good guy, he was just boring compared to what you wanted, and what you wanted was Dazai Osamu, who no one in the world could hope to compare to.

“He was boring,” Dazai echoes your words, a cruel and mocking lilt to his voice, and you brace yourself now, taking the sudden switch in tone as the flicking off of the safety. But he shakes his head as he lets out a puff of air, you can’t tell if it’s another scoff or a laugh. “How cold-hearted of you. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised, given your track record.”

Two paths lay before you: you can take the words as well-deserved, trying to avoid the inevitable fight, or you can spit back equally venomous words, dive in headfirst so the two of you can get everything off of your chest. Both choices are double-edged. If you avoid the fight, it means avoiding the topic altogether, and even if the two of you choose to speak again, the resentment of what had happened will only poison and fester. If you dive into the fight, there’s a chance of saying words you can’t take back, and everything might fall apart anyway.

What do you want? You want to ask him, because you aren’t sure what the right decision is. Three months ago, if you and Dazai got into a disagreement about something, you would know in an instant whether or not he wanted to fight it out to let off steam or just pretend it didn’t happen. Now, you aren’t so sure. He’s still not looking at you, so you can’t use the look in his eye as a hint, but his shoulders are tense beneath his jacket, and his knuckles are white around his glass of whiskey. Your gaze drags up to his face, catching the way his jaw is tight, teeth probably grinding together, and you know.

You look ahead again, leveling your vision on a particularly nice bottle of wine on the third shelf of the wine rack as you say: “I’d rather be cold-hearted than a coward.”

For the first time since you’ve arrived, Dazai’s gaze cuts in your direction, head snapping to the side. You turn your head toward him just enough for you to eye him from the corner of your eye, catching glimpse of the way his lip curled up into a snarl and the way flames now rage in the browns of his eye—a far cry from the bottomless void, but you prefer the anger to the emptiness.

“A coward?” His voice is low, cold, dangerous.

You’re treading on thin ice, but you choose to stoke the flame more, gaze sliding back to the wine racks ahead.

“A coward.”

The silence that hangs between the two of you is tense and damning, you have to force yourself not to react to it, keeping your expression as stony as his as you wait for his response. He’ll either hit you back with more venom or he’ll settle down, one will lead to a blow out fight and the other will lead to a very tense conversation.

You don’t want to fight him, but if that’s what he wants, you’ll give it to him.

After what feels like an eternity, Dazai makes another scornful noise but he doesn’t say anything, gaze snapping back ahead as he takes a drag of his cigarette, this one clearly fueled by anger, far more aggressive than the last one. As if to piss him off even more, he hardly gets half of a smoke, down to the nub already. Frustrated, he puts the lingering cinders out on the bartop before reaching for the pack in his pocket, pulling out a new cigarette and his lighter.

You watch as he tries to flick the lighter on, cigarette dangling between his lips, but the old thing refuses to cooperate. Distantly, you wonder why Dazai is so damn stubborn: working with an old lighter, living in a shitty shipping container, wearing the same few pairs of clothes every day when he probably has more money than god hoarded from his executive paycheck. But you only force yourself to not roll your eyes as you pull out your own lighter, flicking it on and holding it out to him without looking at him.

You watch from the corner of your eye as he stares at your hand suspiciously before he exhales from the side of his mouth, dipping his head down to light the cigarette before he faces ahead again. He doesn’t say anything. Instead, he reaches out for his glass of whiskey, still mostly full, and then he slides it over to you.

An offering. A white flag.

You barely withhold the breath of relief that nearly escapes you, accepting the drink and taking a long sip of it. It’s his favorite brand, smooth and familiar on the tongue; you haven’t been able to bring yourself to drink it since your falling out with him.

“Was it really because he was boring?” Dazai finally asks. He’s not looking at you again, but you can see from the way his fingers are tense against the bartop that he’s probably waiting for a certain response from you.

You let your eyes slide shut. “No,” you admit.

“Then why?” he presses, as if he doesn’t already know.

“You know why,” you say tightly, shaking your head and looking down.

“Tell me anyway,” Dazai responds quietly, you can feel his gaze on you but you can’t bring yourself to look at him. Irrationally, even though the atmosphere between the two of you has shifted, you wonder if this is it: he’s going to get you to admit it and then laugh in your face, cruel but probably deserved.

“Because he wasn’t you,” you finally force out.

He doesn’t respond. Your heart sinks to your stomach, a sick feeling churning. You brace yourself again—you don’t know what for, maybe a laugh or a derisive comment, but he does nothing of the sort.

A long exhale, smoke billowing around his face, a heavy look in his eyes. He doesn’t look at you as he says: “You’re right.”

You don’t respond because you’re not sure what he’s referring to. Finally, he tilts his head to look at you, a wry smile on his lips—your chest feels warm at the sight, you can’t remember the last time you’ve seen him smile. Probably not since the falling out.

“I was a coward.”

Oh.

The frustration you felt all of those months ago returns with a vengeance. You had danced with possibilities back then: that you were reading too much into things, that he didn’t actually care for you the way you did for him, that he simply did not want to be with you even if he did care about you that way. Now, faced with confirmation that he had felt the same but was just too pussy to act on it, your chest swells with that familiar anger. You force it away.

“Why?” you ask after a few moments of silence, nails digging into the palm of your hands as you rest them on your lap. “I… I waited for two years, Dazai. I gave you so many openings. You knew how I felt.”

“I know.” His voice is quiet, barely audible.

“Then why?” you repeat his words back to him, pressing hard just like he did. His throat bobs beneath his bandages as he swallows, averting his gaze, or trying to, at least, because you don’t let him. You reach out to grab his chin tightly, forcing him to look at you, and the pads of your fingers burn against his skin, hyper aware of the fact that this is the first time you’ve touched him in three months. “Why?”

His hand comes up to grab your wrist as if to pull your hand off of him, but he doesn’t, grip firm around your wrist, fingers pressing against your pulse point, and you’re acutely conscious of the fact that your pulse is probably racing but you can’t bring yourself to care.

“I told you why,” he says, voice uncharacteristically soft. Vulnerable in a way that you’ve never seen him before. “I was a coward. I… didn’t want to risk ruining our friendship... I don't have many friends. You know that. I would’ve rather just ignored how I felt and kept you as a friend, because I didn’t think there’d be a chance of losing you that way. I thought if I acted on how I felt, one day you’d eventually see me for what I am and I’d lose you altogether.”

“Some good that did you.” You can’t help the resentful words that spill from your lips, but you feel guilty when he winces, hand dropping back to your lap, his grip slipping from your wrist. “You think I don’t already see you for who you are? We’ve known each other since we were sixteen, Dazai. I know all of the sick and twisted thoughts that run through your head, I knew exactly what I was getting into.”

Dazai shakes his head, as if to deny your words. You get frustrated.

“I spend hours at your recovery bed after your attempts, I’ve caught you in the middle of them myself, do you know what the first thing I did was after I told you I had a boyfriend?” you demand, and he stares at you, unsure. “I put a protection detail on him because I thought you’d try to have him killed, or try to kill him yourself.”

Dazai winces. You shake your head and look away, settling down again.

“For someone so smart, you really are so goddamn stupid sometimes,” you sigh, taking a long swig of his drink before placing the glass back down on the table. “I saw you for who you are, and I wanted you anyway.”

“Wanted?” Dazai asks, an uncertain expression on his face as he zeroes in on the past tense.

“Want,” you correct, voice little over a breath, and something akin to relief sweeps across his face as his gaze drops down to the bartop.

The silence that hangs between the two of you is more comfortable this time. Reassuring, even, because maybe things might still be awkward between the two of you for a while, but there’s a light at the end of the tunnel, one much brighter than the one the two of you lived in three months ago.

“I can’t believe you went for a civilian,” Dazai suddenly says, almost sounding indignant. “A civilian. You!”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” you snap when you hear the incredulous tone he takes when he says ‘you’.

“You’re a stone cold bitch,” Dazai accuses and you gape, but you can’t find it in yourself to be offended because his eyes are lit up for the first time in months, a lopsided smile painted on his face. “And you’ve got as much blood on your hands as I do. You. A civilian. I think I would’ve been less offended if you went for Chuuya.”

“We both know that’s a lie,” you snort, and then you add, a bit amused, “you know what he wants a job as?”

“Tell me,” Dazai drawls, resting his chin on his hand as he leans on the bar, watching you with such a fond expression that it makes you feel warm all over.

God, you missed him the past three months.

“He wanted to go to law school. Become a public defender.”

Dazai chokes over the smoke he inhales, and you press your hand to your lips to smother your giggles as he desperately wheezes between laughs. You’re not sure if he’s actually choking, you think he might actually be dying from how red his face is getting.

“Maybe you should keep in contact with him then,” he gasps between laughs, “we might need one of those one day.”

“As if you’re sloppy enough to ever get caught,” you say dryly.

He winks at you, his grin sharpening, and you know you’re not going to like what he’s about to say. “Oh, I’m not. By ‘we’, I meant you.”

“Douchebag.” You roll your eyes, letting another silence settle over the two of you, a smile on your lips now as you take another sip of your drink. He’s the one to break it again.

“... Odasaku convinced me not to, by the way.”

“What?”

“To kill him. I was going to. Odasaku convinced me not to.”

You let out a sigh of utter suffering, giving Dazai a pointed look—see, you say silently, I know you. He has the decency to look a bit sheepish as lifts his cigarette back to his mouth in lieu of responding to your unspoken words.

“Stop with the self sabotage, Dazai,” you finally say, tired. “For both of our sakes’.”

He doesn’t respond, and you know him well enough to know that he’ll probably never stop with the self sabotage, but he does reach out to lace your fingers with his, and the warm feeling that spreads through your chest is enough to satiate you.

Little steps, because no, the Mafia is not a conducive place for relationships and yes, it’s only a matter of time before luck runs out for one of you, but if your life is destined to be short, there’s only one person you want to spend it with.

#ᡣ𐭩 carina’s archives #dazai x reader #dazai x you #dazai osamu x reader #dazai osamu x you #bsd x reader #bsd x you #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x you

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solaris-amethyst · 5 months ago

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💫Classroom shenanigans💫

✨Pairing: Yunho x gn!reader ✨Prompt: The two of you are teachers who are bonding over their classes in the teachers room ✨Word Count: 0.9k ✨Genre: fluff, non idol au, slight humor (?), teachers au, secretly married au ☀️Authors Note: All I can say is that I remember the horse is a fruit debacle and had to bring it into this one shot! Question was that a thing all over the world or just in Sweden way back then??

"Do your kids decide that it would be a good idea to argue with you about the fact that horses does not exist and that they're fruits?" Yunho asks as he sit down with his coffee mug in the sofa looking absolutely exhausted.

"No they don't. Is this something I should be worried that my class will pick up and start arguing with me about?" You groan, not liking the idea of your class of thirty eleven year olds arguing passionately about this.

"Someone brought it up and when I told him that no, horses are in fact real and an animal he just said noooo they're not real and they're actually fruits. The whole class just agreed with him and when I showed them videos of horses they said they were animated?!" He vented before taking a big sip of his coffee.

"If it makes you feel better my students seriously thought that the moon was made out of cheese. One said she had seen it in a movie and the others nodded along. Guess which movie they were referencing." You said glancing at Yunho who shrugged, not knowing what movie they could have possibly thought of.

"Wallace and Gromit, A Grand Day Out!" You exclaimed causing your colleague to laugh almost getting coffee everywhere in the process.

"No way."

"Yes way!"

He laughs again shaking his head, he goes to take another sip of his coffee but can't due to the giggles escaping him as he clearly thinks about what you just told him.

"I love my kids but sometimes they exhaust me beyond reason." You admitted thinking back to all of the times they have done things to test your patience.

"Yeah I love my kids as well, they're kind and mean well and I have to say their passion truly is something else." Yunho said whilst patting the seat next to him, wanting you to sit next to him.

You gladly moved over to him. He wrapped one of his arms around your shoulder casually, his hand gently caressing your shoulder, tracing small patterns.

"Do you think they've figured it out yet?" You asked curiously glancing towards Yunho

"That we're actually married? No. Absolutely not. I got questioned today actually why I hadn't taken you on a date yet." He confessed, the tips of his ears turning slightly red.

"Wait, really??" You turned towards him in shock "They're really asking you that?"

"Yeah, your kids don't?" He looked at you with a smile causing you to melt a little bit.

"I mean they do tell me why we would be the perfect couple. Ever since I helped you when we went on that trip together with our classes they've been obsessed with telling me how we should get together and that there definitely is a spark between the two of us." You told him with a chuckle

"Well they're not wrong about the fact that there is a spark between us both." He said giving your cheek a light kiss causing your face to heat up, you quickly turn around and give his cheek a kiss as well smiling when Yunho get that bashful and shy smile on his face, his eyes avoiding eye contact as his cheeks grow rosy from the intimate display as if he hadn't been the one to initiate the first kiss.

"I cannot wait to see the stunned look on all of their faces once we tell them we're actually married." He says shyly causing you to take a hold of his hand which is still on your shoulder, squeezing it gently.

"I'm surprised none of them have noticed we wear similar wedding rings you know. Some of my kids have mentioned they think it's pretty and I think someone said it was similar to yours but none clocked that it was an actual wedding ring." The two of you sat in silent for a while, enjoying each other's presence. Today was a rather calm day and the two of you had been lucky enough to not have recess duty today meaning you could sit in the teachers room enjoying each other's company. Yunho had eventually put away his cup of coffee so he could bring both his arms around you capturing you in a relaxing hug.

"When do you have your last class today?" He murmurs quietly

"At 15:00, but I am staying until 16:30 to plan my next few lessons for the class. What about you?" You look up at him from your position in the hug.

"Yeah me too. Can't wait for the day to be over so I can take you out on a dinner date." He says giving your head a light kiss.

"Mhmmm I can't wait to see the place you have picked out for us to eat at. You always do such a good job at picking out restaurants." You murmur quietly closing your eyes as you lean back against Yunho.

"Take a nap. I'll wake you up a little bit before our classes start again love." Yunho says giving you another kiss on your lips before picking up a blanket on the sofa to wrap the both of you up in.

"Thank you Yunho. I love you." You whisper as sleep takes over you and the last thing you hear is Yunhos fond voice whispering a soft I love you too.

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yukioos · 2 months ago

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SOMETHING ABOUT YOU

SUMMARY: simon riley x reader // simon goes out to the bar for a break then comes back with a couple of his friends, the 141. you were surprised when you heard multiple pairs of footsteps trailing to the backyard, but more than happy to see your husband’s family again.

WARNINGS: not proofread, a little angst but nothing too heavy, reader is called ‘mrs.’ and ‘mom’ a couple of times (fem reader)

AUTHORS NOTE: i’m working on another logan writing piece at the moment, i’ve been really busy so i haven’t written a lot in the past few weeks. this is 1.1k words, and i randomly came up with the oneshot idea idk i wanted to write it!!

simon had gone out to the bar to take a break, he needed to relax after a long mission, although he visited you before deciding to leave again. however, you understand his needs. it’s difficult being away from him for weeks, and even more difficult not to know what happens on his missions.

he is never allowed to talk about them because of the confidentiality. it can be frustrating at times, and sometimes all he is allowed to say is if he and his friends were hurt. occasionally, he will slip in little details from the mission, although it was rare for him to mention it.

weirdly enough, this hasn’t caused problems in your relationship. you understand the long time your husband has to be away because of his job, that is part of the marriage. the wait makes it worth it when simon comes home with flowers and little trinkets from the country he visits.

the smile on your children’s faces warms both of your hearts, as well as the giggling you hear as they run up to their beloved father. the way their cheeks flush and their eyes squint, showing their dad tricks they learned in gymnastics, or how one of them is close to losing a tooth always forces a smile onto simon’s face, no matter how hard he tries to resist.

you’re taken from your deep thought when you see one of your children swimming over to the edge of the pool. you place your book down on your lap as mila, your four-year-old daughter grasps the edge.

“mommy, when is daddy coming home?” she asks, the dark brown eyes she gained from simon peering up at you.

you quickly check your phone to track his location, he is only a few streets away from your house. your face visibly brightens, and you sigh in content.

you tilt your head at your daughter and reply, “he’s a few streets down, sweetie,” you think for a second, “he should be here in no time.”

when you give your daughter a grin, she sheepishly smiles back at you before pushing her legs onto the wall and floating with her small floaties on her arms. she swims over to her sister, and they begin to talk before they both swim to the opposite side of the swimming pool and take a couple of crackers off a plate.

you then feel a small tug on your heart, and you turn around, smiling at the feeling. simon stands in front of the door leading to the backyard, all without his mask and gear, instead in normal civilian clothes. the rest of the 141 stands beside him, the people he considers family, besides you and the kids, of course.

placing one foot on the ground after the other, you stand up from the lounge chair and place your book on the table next to it. he wears a tight, white t-shirt and jeans he wears so often at home.

as you walk up to him, your eyes are on him and him only. you give him a quick peck on his chapped lips, placing your hands on his chest. his hand drops to the hem of your white skirt as he looks at your cute, white top you normally wear to the beach.

hand placed on his bicep, you state, “i see you brought your friends, si,” and look into your loved ones eyes before greeting, “well, hey! did you guys have fun at the bar?”

“yeah, it was nice. mostly played card games, actually,” kyle replies, gaining mutters of agreement from the two men next to him.

a moment of silence fills the space as johnny comments, “y’look nice, mrs. riley.”

you thank him, but he earns a glare from your husband. the captain asks a question, “how’ve the kids been?” and you smile, knowing he’s cared about them ever since simon said his wife was expecting.

“oh, they’ve been great! mary’s getting really good at chess, she spends so much of her free time just playing and seeing how she could win every game. mila just joined a soccer team, so you know, there’s a game coming up next week!” you beam, enjoying talking about your kids.

as you continue talking to john and kyle, simon quickly slaps the back of the scot’s head, emitting a groan from him. he quickly pulls him back by his shirt, trying to make it seem like the sergeant was startled by something other than simon.

you softly yet unconsciously rub simon’s bicep and step closer to his body, yearning for his body heat to help yours. he then turns his head and sees mila and mary wrapped in long towels, almost dragging on the concrete ground. he bends down and kisses both of their foreheads, once again, earning giggles from them.

they greet simon’s teammates with respect and manners, and you smile at their maturity. as they ask questions to the three men, you pull simon down by his shirt and place your lips against his. he places his hand on the small of your back, comfortingly rubbing up and down.

your heart flutters at the caring act, and the two of you pull away once you remember something. you look up at his warm eyes and state, “there’s food in the oven, your friends can stay for dinner if they want,” and drag your freshly manicured nails down his chest before walking into the house.

his eyes follow your body, and the corners of his lips turn into a grin when his kids look up at him. he grins before picking both of them up and throwing their bodies over his shoulders, feeling their bellies sucking in and out, their giggles fill his ears. he nods for his teammates to walk into the house.

“ah, wait, take your little floaties off,” he places the two down on the ground and pulls their floaties off their arms.

they wait patiently in front of him in case they forget something else they are obligated to do, but simon ushers them into the household.

sometimes he feels like he’s missed so much of their life, and they don’t always understand why he’s gone so often. he’s thought of retiring, he has enough money to live with you and the children for the rest of his life. his life wouldn’t be on the line anymore, and anytime he steps onto the field, he fights for you and his children so he can come back to you another day.

#yukioos #simon riley fluff #simon ghost riley fluff #simon riley #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #ghost cod #ghost #ghost fluff #cod mwii #cod x reader #cod modern warfare #cod #cod mw2 #call of duty x reader #call of duty

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greensagephase · 2 months ago

Text

Nonviolent Communication - Part 20

Pairing: Spider-Man!Miguel O'Hara x Spider-Woman!Reader Summary: A little AI assistant informed you of a certain someone's birthday! Word Count: 6.9k Warnings: little mentions of being alone, but nothing too serious; an unexpected cameo, even I didn't know about; honestly, Miguel and us need to kiss already - we're so cute 🥹😫; someone cries; mischievous Lyla plotting; fluff and fluff and fluff Music (Spotify playlist): No music for this one, pookies. I didn't have time to find music appropriate for it. Masterlist

Part 20

“Are you ready?” you ask with a smile, filled with excitement about today. You try to tone it down, knowing you can’t show your full excitement to avoid raising suspicions.

Miguel chuckles and nods. “I am. You said it’s around the corner?”

“Mhm, just around the corner,” you reply, the tote bag Miguel gifted you for Christmas in your hand. You smile subtly and glance at the trees, noticing the autumnal hues now that it’s October and officially fall. You grin at the sight, appreciating the view and time of year while Miguel and you walk side by side on the sidewalk in your universe.

You turn to look at Miguel again, knowing he has no idea you know what today is — his birthday!

You would’ve missed it if it wasn’t for Lyla, who told you about it two weeks ago by accident when she was sharing who had birthdays in October at HQ, giving you plenty of time to plan and ask Miguel if he wanted to hang out today without raising his suspicions.

As far as Miguel knows, today is a regular Sunday to you and you just happened to plan the day’s activities on his birthday without knowing.

You look away, still smiling to yourself as you round the corner and walk just a bit before reaching your first destination of the day: your favorite record shop.

“Here is it! The best record shop, in my humble opinion, in the whole city,” you cheerfully say, presenting it to Miguel like it’s someone very dear to you.

Miguel grins at you before his eyes take in the small shop, feeling a coziness from it before he even walks through the door.

“It looks welcoming,” he says, feeling excitement at the possibility of finding some new records to add to his growing collection. Ever since you gifted him the record player for Christmas, Miguel has been slowly been buying more records, but it’s not always easy. Being from a highly advanced society means that it’s harder to find such items. Thankfully, there’s a small market for those who do enjoy collecting them and that's how Miguel has been able to collect a few.

Still, his access to records is not the same as yours. You have multiple shops with hundreds of records available, and that's just in your city.

“Come on,” you say, pushing the door open and holding it for Miguel. “Better get started because there’s sooooo much to see and we still have another shop to go.”

Miguel chuckles and nods. “Let’s go, after you.”

You step in first because, as always, Miguel is a gentleman. You’re both greeted by the owner, an older man in his seventies or so, but still moving as if he was in his forties. Miguel notes his simple yet elegant outfit consisting of a green sweater with a white button-up beneath, the latter’s collar perfectly styled. Dark tinted glasses sit on his nose, which are a contrast to his white hair and mustache. Miguel can’t help but feel like he knows him from somewhere.

“Hey, kid! It’s been sometime since I’ve seen you,” the man says to you, smiling.

“I’ve been a little busy, sir,” you reply, offering him a smile. “But it’s great to be back and to see you.”

“Always great to see you, too, kid! I see you’ve brought your boyfriend along this time, too. Welcome to our Earth, young man!” the owner says cheerfully, turning to look at him.

Miguel and you freeze at the man’s words for a second or two.

“Oh we -” you start, shocked.

“We’re -” Miguel only manages to say at the same time.

“Hold that thought, young folks, I have to check something in the back,” the owner says with a laugh before slipping to the back room, leaving you both alone.

Miguel scratches his neck, and you stare at the spot where Mr. Stanley was just standing. Your cheeks feel hot suddenly while you fidget with your tote bag before you look at Miguel.

“I hope um… I hope that - I’m sorry that Mr. Stanley assumed we’re - you know,” you say, not able to form a coherent sentence due to your shock.

Miguel finally turns to you, his cheeks red. This isn’t the first time someone has assumed you’re both dating, but this is certainly the first time you have both being told about it, at least as far as Miguel knows. He clears his throat, noticing your shy yet apologetic demeanor.

“I uh - I hope it doesn’t - I’m sorry,” you try again because Miguel might take offense.

“Hey, hey,” Miguel says calmly, gently. “You have no reason to apologize, Dulzura. It was a,” he pauses, still feeling shocked but having to push through his own surprise for your sake because he can see you’re far more in shock than him. He’s gone through this more than you. “It’s an innocent assumption, right?” he asks softly.

You nod slowly. “Yes… but you’re not upset?”

“Why - why would I be upset?” Miguel asks.

“I don’t know… I just - I thought - I don’t know,” you say again, shaking your head in an attempt to get your brain to think right again. “Let’s go see the records?”

“Lets,” Miguel replies, also pushing past his own shock that once again someone has assumed you’re a couple. He notes that this is the third time, which makes him briefly think that maybe you two really give off that impression. Miguel shakes his head and focuses on the store instead, deciding that if some people think that, he doesn't mind. It's not an offense to him as you insinuated just now. It's an innocent assumption and that's that.

Pushing past Mr. Stanley’s comment, Miguel and you walk to one side of the shop to browse records. Miguel stops and does a turn, his eyes taking in the great number of records greeting his eyes. There’s so many! So, so, so many options to go through and check out. He feels giddy, knowing he’ll get to explore the entire shop with you.

“Look, here’s pop and hip hop, over there rock, jazz is on that side…” you say, gesturing to each genre.

The two of you start browsing, talking about the records you find interesting, or when you find artists you both know. You lift records to show each other, finding some goofy covers at times and making each other laugh. In the end, you both walk around the shop holding your tote bag, each of you holding a handle to support the weight of the records you’ve both decided to take home.

You notice Miguel gazing at a vinyl, gaining his attention, so you stop walking. Miguel, realizing you’ve stopped moving, turns to look at you with a raised eyebrow.

“I see you eyeing that record,” you say.

Miguel smiles. “The cover just looks interesting, that’s all.”

“Why don’t you check it out?” you suggest.

“Alright,” he replies, still smiling. He picks up the item with his free hand and inspects it, reading the back for the song titles. He hums before placing it back on the shelf. “It sounds alright,” he says with a shrug, but you can see he really seems to like it. “What’s at the back?”

You look away from the record and turn to the back. “Mr. Stanley also sells a few pop culture things, so you’ll find key chains, t-shirts — that sort of stuff. Wanna check it out?”

“Yeah, sure. Why not?” Miguel says as you both walk to the back of the store, but not before you subtly pull the record Miguel just placed back on the shelf with your webs.

You easily slip it into the bag when you reach the section and notice Miguel’s eyes taking in everything that’s currently popular in your universe. His gaze settles on something that catches his attention immediately: Spider-Woman merch, a sight that makes him smile.

“What do we have here?” he asks, gently picking up a key chain of you as Spider-Woman.

You smile, looking at the item. “It seems some Spider-Woman merch. It’s cute,” you say.

“It is,” Miguel agrees, observing it intently. He keeps it in his hand before turning to look at hoodies and sweatshirts. “Seems like Mr. Stanley is stocked for the colder months, hm?”

“It seems so,” you reply with a grin, watching Miguel pick up a sweatshirt with your symbol on it. He traces it softly before he starts looking through the others, searching. You raise an eyebrow before you realize he’s looking for his size, a thought that brings you immediate delight. You smile happily when he finds one and holds it against his chest.

“What do you think?” he asks.

You chuckle and nod. “Perfect choice. It’s going to keep you warm for the winter.”

“That’s what I thought, too. Plus,” Miguel stops and then in a whisper continues, “it’s another way to support my best friend.”

“What a supportive best friend you are,” you respond, smiling. “Spider-Woman would be proud of you.”

“Is that so?” Miguel asks with a soft smirk. “Do you think I’ll get the chance to meet her sometime?”

“She’s always around, so if you stick around, you might just get to.”

“I hope so, I’ve been meaning to get an autograph of hers,” Miguel says with a grin before he smiles much more tenderly at you, serious now. “I admire her very much, you know.”

“She equally admires you,” you reply, smiling warmly at him. “She’d be happy to wear your merch, too.”

Miguel chuckles. “I’ll happily make sure she gets a sweatshirt of mine, that’s no issue,” he says, already thinking of the few small businesses he can buy some merch of himself.

“Sounds like a deal,” you reply.

“Are you two lovebirds finding everything okay?” Mr. Stanley says, stepping out of nowhere.

Miguel and you continue to look at each other, the word ‘lovebirds’ not missed by your ears, but this time instead of letting the shock linger, you both smile and chuckle before you reply.

“Yes, sir,” you answer. “I think we’re ready to check out, no?”

Miguel nods. “Yeah, I’ve seen everything. Let me just step into the bathroom real quick, okay?”

“Go ahead,” you say, grinning at the opportunity. As soon as Miguel closes the door, you head straight for the cash register to pay for everything, since you want to treat Miguel on his birthday.

“All done? Found everything okay?” Mr. Stanley says, as you unload the tote bag.

“Yes, sir. And yes, we did, thank you.”

The older man grins as he begins the transaction, noticing the records selected. Meanwhile, you look around the store, noticing the decorations Mr. Stanley has behind the counter, which all look cool and interesting, but your eyes stop on something in particular. Fan art of you and someone else.

“Excuse me, sir, is that — Fan art of Spider-Woman?” you ask.

“That? Oh yes, yes,” Mr. Stanley answers. “It’s nice, isn’t it?”

“It’s lovely,” you reply, staring at the unknown figure next to it. You look closer, realizing there’s little shapes around the heads. “Who is the other person next to her?”

“Why don’t I let you see it closer, huh? Just be careful with it, I paid good money for this,” he says, stepping away to retrieve the framed art. He hands it to you with a proud smile. “Spider-Woman and her Spider-Man.”

You nearly choke at that, especially when you see what he’s referring to. The fan art has you, drawn perfect if you say so yourself, but next to you is… Miguel, dressed in his Spider-Man 2099 suit. The two figures seem to be holding hands while swinging through the city’s downtown with little red hearts around your heads.

“Oh, wow,” you say a little breathless. “Where did you — How did you think of this, Mr. Stanley?”

“Well,” the man says as he continues with the transaction, putting the records he’s checked back into your tote bag. He slips one inside, careful, before looking up at you with a knowing grin. “Spider-Woman needs someone to lean on, too, right? What better than her Spider-Man, someone who understands her? A perfect couple, if I must say so myself.”

You nod, still staring at the fan art. “Yes, I guess you could say that,” you reply, going along with him before you hand it back. “Thank you for letting me see it up close. It’s wonderful.”

“Of course, of course. If that’s all, young lady, your total is…” he pauses before telling you the amount.

You quickly pay and thank Mr. Stanley just as Miguel reaches your side.

“Wait — you already paid?” Miguel asks because he had full intentions of paying everything himself.

“Yep,” you answer simply with a smile. “Come on, we have places to be. Bye, Mr. Stanley!”

You exit, Miguel following behind. “Thank you, sir,” Miguel says before he reaches the door, but stopping when he hears the older man speak.

“You take care of that girl. She’s a good one,” Mr. Stanley says to him. “Make sure you’re there for her, be someone she can lean on, you hear me?”

Miguel nods, smiling slowly. “Yes, sir. I will.”

“Good, now, go on!”

Miguel says goodbye and steps out. The door closes, but Miguel swears he still heard the man say ‘ex- something’ though he didn’t hear the entire thing. He sighs and turns to you, finding you holding the tote bag.

“Here, I can hold that,” Miguel offers.

“No, it’s alright,” you reply as you gesture for him to start walking with you.

“Come on,” Miguel says as he walks next to you, picking up the bag from one side and taking one of the handles again.

You chuckle and shake your head. “I told you I got it.”

“I know, but still. It’s the thought that counts, right?” he asks. “It’s the thing a gentleman does, and I — well, I try to be one,” Miguel says, glancing at you while you walk, heading God knows where.

“You are one,” you confirm, smiling. “But fine, I’ll let you hold that handle while I hold the other one. Team work.”

Miguel scoffs playfully. “Fine, team work, Dulzura.” He sighs and looks around, thinking it’s a great day so far. “Where are we going next?”

“It’s a surprise,” you reply, not wanting to share.

Miguel hums, knowing you won’t share your plans, so he walks with you, ready to follow wherever you go.

While you head to your next destination, you show and point out different things along the way, further introducing your city to Miguel, who appreciates the much slower pace compared to Nueva York’s. While you two continue to walk, he finds himself silently thinking that he could get used to it, this slower pace. It’s funny, he thinks. You seemed to have adapted to his universe easily and he can see himself adapting to yours the same way. He shakes the thought away when you eagerly nod to a small building, a book shop.

“One of the best book shops in the city,” you say as you open the door for him. “One of my favorites.”

Miguel sighs at the sight of you holding the door. He just told you he’s trying to be a gentleman.

Noticing his sigh and a little pout, you chuckle. “I’m trying to be a gentle lady,” you say, joking.

“Very funny,” Miguel says playfully. “Poking fun at me, are you?”

“I would never,” you respond as he finally steps in.

“Right, gentle lady,” Miguel says, unable to stop himself from finally grinning. He can’t help it. He never can when he’s around you, if he’s honest.

“I know you like sci-fi, Migs. The section is this way,” you eagerly report, tugging him along due to his hold on the bag.

Starting with the sci-fi section, the two of you browse the shop. You look through every genre you both enjoy, trying to find good reads, especially now that it’s autumn, the coziest time to read. Between you, you both manage to get a stack of ten books, which Miguel holds because he insisted earlier. Despite his protests, you pay for everything.

“Hey, when I’m at your universe, you always want to pay. It’s only fair I get to do the same,” you say, once you’re both out of the shop. “It’s just a little treat, you know.” You glance at Miguel, hoping he doesn’t catch on. “It’s a little thank you for letting me stay at your place for so long. And also, I got to see so much of your universe, so I want you to see more of mine, too,” you add, smiling.

Miguel nods, even though he still wishes he was the one paying. “Alright, if you insist, but you really don’t have to thank me for opening my home to you. I already told you, my home is your home,” Miguel says, and after a few seconds he adds, “Always.”

You smile and nod, knowing he really means it. Miguel firmly stated the same thing several weeks ago, when the two of you woke up leaning on each other hours later after meeting on that rooftop on Earth-42 by pure coincidence. You were a little worried when you woke up because you found yourself in such position, with your head resting on his shoulder since he had shifted over the hours to be more comfortable. You wondered if you made Miguel uncomfortable, if the only reason he didn’t say anything was to avoid being rude, but when you searched his face for signs of discomfort or irritation, you found none. At least, not visible ones.

The two of you woke up feeling rested despite the strange sleeping positions and it was only a few minutes after waking up that you finally shifted away to give Miguel some space, thinking that you had pushed his boundaries enough.

While you fixed the blanket over you, you failed to notice the little pout on Miguel’s lips when you scooted away. Neither did he. He watched you moved, noting the loss of your warmth immediately.

You had breakfast a short while after that and then finally discussed that ‘something’ Miguel had mentioned hours ago.

Sitting at the kitchen counter, you both knew a few things.

Neither of you wanted you to move out.

Your homes felt different to you now; something had changed.

You grew used to living with each other and to the routines you easily and quickly established.

And, you missed each other so much that neither of you could sleep.

So, you both decided that it would be nice if you stayed at the penthouse on some nights throughout the week, at least. Miguel even offered to sleep on your couch if you don’t want to stay at the penthouse, but you warned him he might be getting back pain from it. You told him you rather go to the penthouse than have him deal with that issue. Ever since then, you’ve spent about three nights out of the week at his penthouse, sometimes four, and it seems to be working well for the two of you.

Yet…

You both wish that you could go back to the way it was before, to being roommates full-time. Of course, neither of you shared that bit to avoid pushing each other’s boundaries. There’s also your apartment. Miguel fully understands what the apartment means to you, so he knows he cannot propose being roommates because that would put you in a difficult dilemma. And you, well, you still hold on to the apartment, even if it stills feels different now. You can’t pinpoint what it is, but you know it’s a good difference.

With a sigh, you push the thought away and focus on the birthday man walking next to you instead, and thank him for his kind words. “I appreciate it, Migs. So is my home, you know. My home is your home. You’re always welcomed.”

Miguel grins. “Thank you, Dulzura.”

You return the grin, feeling giddy. “I don’t know about you, but I’m kind of hungry now.”

“You know, me, too,” Miguel answers. “I guess the walking is making us hungry. Should we head to the penthouse to eat? I can cook something.”

“I was thinking, I actually want to try a new recipe, if you don’t mind,” you start softly. “You can help me if you want?” you offer. “We can pick up the groceries from my apartment since I have everything already.”

“That sounds great to me,” Miguel answers with a smile, unaware of your plans.

♡

After picking up the groceries from your apartment, Miguel and you travel back to Nueva York. You quickly split up tasks and begin to cook an early dinner, even though you would’ve preferred to cook everything yourself to spoil Miguel a bit.

You decided to let him help you, however, for two reasons. One, to avoid raising his suspicions, and two, because you know that Miguel appreciates quality time and loves cooking. You simply didn’t have it in you to exclude him, not when you know he enjoys cooking with you so much.

While prepping dinner, you happily listen to Miguel talk about how much he loved going to the little shops you went, especially the record player store.

“There’s so many records,” Miguel says as he seasons steaks. “For a moment, I didn’t even know where to look because of how many there were.”

You laugh softly while dicing vegetables. “And it’s just one store. There’s a few others around the area, but that one is my favorite. If you want, we can go check out the other ones next weekend. Maybe even go to the ones that are new to me, too.”

“Really?” Miguel asks, looking up from the steaks and at you with a glimmer in his eyes.

“Of course,” you reply, finding his excitement sweet. “We can have breakfast, or lunch somewhere in my universe like we did today, and then spend the rest of the day exploring those stores.”

“That sounds really nice,” Miguel admits softly, smiling. “I’d like that, but this time I pay for my records,” he says with a little frown, his lips pouting.

You tilt your head a little. “Alright, alright,” you reply with a grin, knowing that the possibility exists now because Miguel and Lyla came up with a way to convert money easily.

“Good,” Miguel says, returning his attention to the steaks, making sure they’re properly seasoned before cooking them. “Then, I’d like to, if you’re open to it.”

“I’m already looking forward to it,” you respond, meaning it. Nothing sounds better than spending a day shopping for records with your best friend and showing him more of your city.

A while later, you excuse yourself to use the bathroom while the food is finishing cooking, but in reality, you leave Nueva York entirely and return to your universe. In minutes, you’re back to Miguel’s penthouse with something. A birthday cake you’ve baked yourself, of course.

“Lyla,” you say when you arrive upstairs.

“Reporting for duty,” she says as soon as she appears, grinning.

“Is there any way you can distract Miguel? I just need a few seconds to sneak the cake into the kitchen.”

“Hmm… I can access the door bell and make it seem like someone’s here!” she eagerly informs you. “Let me do my thing. Be ready at the end of the stairs, I’ll send you a signal when he’s at the door,” Lyla adds, giddily.

You thank her before she disappears, hurrying out of your room and climbing down the stairs. As soon as you reach the bottom, you hear the front door bell ring. A few seconds later, you hear Miguel’s footsteps and then the door that leads to that side of the penthouse opening.

Not even a second later, Lyla sends you a message to let you know you’re in the clear. You quietly but quickly sneak the cake into the kitchen and hide it, already eager to see Miguel’s face when you take it out with the candles and everything.

Hearing Miguel’s footsteps coming your way again, you return to the stove and check on the food, pretending that nothing is amiss.

“Everything okay?” you ask.

“Yes, the door bell rang but there was no one. I think the system may need an update, or something. I’ll have to check it out,” Miguel says as he reaches the sink to wash his hands, but not before taking off his bracelet and hair tie, which he has worn all day. “I’ll do that later,” he adds, deciding that he’ll leave it for tomorrow.

Today, Miguel simply wants to enjoy your company as much as he can. So far, it’s been a wonderful Sunday that started with him arriving to your apartment before the two of you headed out to have lunch at a small and quaint diner. You headed to the shops after that, your stomachs full and satisfied.

Now, you’re here cooking together and will probably spend some time in the living room, enjoying each other’s company. He couldn’t wish for a better Sunday, nor a better birthday.

Drying his hands with a towel, Miguel thinks about how you have no idea that today is his birthday. Despite not knowing, you’ve easily made it one of the best ones he’s ever had. He silently remembers the last few ones, when he was alone, and the fact that he hasn’t celebrated in years. In fact, the last time he celebrated his birthday was when Gabriel was alive. Since then, Miguel has found it easier to pretend his birthday is like every other day, nothing to celebrate.

Due to that, Miguel hasn’t told anyone at HQ his birth date. The only person that knows about it is Lyla, but she’s been instructed not to reveal it to anyone.

Miguel turns to face you, silently wondering if he should tell you now. You’re best friends after all, right? But then, he frowns a little, realizing that if he tells you now so late in the day, you’ll probably feel guilty. You’ll probably say you wished you knew sooner and apologize, even if it’s not your fault, but his for not telling you.

He decides not to say anything. There’s always next year, right?

“Food is almost ready,” you say happily, bringing Miguel’s attention back to the moment.

“It smells amazing,” he replies, coming to your side to get a closer look.

♡

“That was amazing,” Miguel says once he places his fork down, finished with his meal.

You hum as you finish as well, wiping your mouth clean. “I’m glad that you enjoyed it! We did a great job.”

Miguel smiles. “It was mostly you, but thank you. Today…” Miguel starts, feeling truly happy. “Has been great. I’ve enjoyed it a lot, thank you, Dulzura.”

You smile, nodding. “I’m so happy you’ve enjoyed it. I’ve enjoyed it so much, too.” You stand up and pick up your plate before walking to retrieve Miguel’s, but he tries to pick it up himself. “It’s okay, I got it, Miguel,” you tell him gently. “Please. It’s nothing.”

Miguel slowly lets go. “Alright, thank you.”

You nod and take the dishes to the sink, deciding to leave them for later. For now, you want to move on with your surprise.

“Hey, do you mind getting the sweatshirt I bought you from the tote bag? I just remembered something and I want to make sure,” you say, using that as an excuse since you left the bag in the living room.

Miguel stands up, nodding. “Of course. Hold on,” he says, heading straight for the living room.

You giddily get the cake out and quickly light up the candles.

“Here it is. What did you remember?” Miguel asks, stepping back into the kitchen.

You prepare yourself with a little sigh, your back to Miguel, before you turn around with the cake in your hands.

Miguel stops in his tracks, his lips parting in surprise. He slowly lowers the sweatshirt, watching you bring the cake to the main counter with a sweet smile.

“A little bird,” you start.

“Me!” Lyla says, appearing out of nowhere with a grin, equally giddy.

“Told me today is someone’s birthday,” you continue. “It was by pure accident and once I knew, well, I couldn’t simply ignore it. You can’t ignore your best friend’s birthday, you know? I couldn’t ignore the birthday of someone who means so much to me, so…” You grin at Miguel, whose eyes have soften at the sight. “I hope that you’ve truly enjoyed today. As I said, it was to thank you for letting me stay here and to show you more of my universe, but primarily because I wanted to spend the day with you. Today, your birthday.”

You gently glide the cake over the counter, the candles flickering. “Happy Birthday, Miguel. I hope your day has been a good one so far and I wish you many, many, many more birthdays to come, blessed with health and happiness.”

“You - you baked a cake? For me?” Miguel asks softly and slowly, still surprised.

“Yes, I hope you like it. I know your preferences, so I baked one with those details in mind,” you reply proudly, so sweetly.

Miguel smiles, his eyes filling up with tears. He clears his throat and looks away to quickly wipe a tear away. It’s been so long since he’s celebrated his birthday and it feels so nice to have someone remember, someone other than his AI assistant. He walks over, placing the sweatshirt over a chair to look at the wonderful cake.

You swear his smile grows when he sees his name on it in your cute handwriting. He places his hands on the counter, almost like he can’t believe it. He clears his throat again. “Thank you,” he says softly, another tear slipping down his beautiful chiseled face.

You smile tenderly, noticing Miguel’s teary eyes. You grab a clean linen napkin and come to his side, sitting up on the chair to reach him. He turns to face you and that’s when you take the opportunity to gently dry his tears like he once did for you. “There,” you whisper.

“Thank you, Dulzura,” Miguel whispers, staring at you, his eyes still tearing up. “I’m sorry. It’s been a while since I celebrated my birthday.”

You nod, realizing that makes sense. Gabriel has been deceased for several years now and Miguel has kept his birthday a secret at HQ, so no one has had a chance to even wish him a good one. “I know,” you reply and then smile. “From now on, if you’ll let me… I’d like to celebrate your birthday.”

Miguel nods, a few tears rolling down his face despite himself. You carefully dry them away, being so gentle. Miguel is reminded of how tender you were to him when he was injured, as if he was some delicate thing worth of such treatment. He clears his throat, sniffling quietly.

“You know, the birthday person shouldn’t be crying,” you add, with a playful yet tender smile.

Miguel chuckles, finally calming down a little. “They’re happy tears as someone very special to me once said,” he states, looking at you with equal tenderness, if not more.

“Happy tears, hm? I can’t argue with that, but still. I rather see you smiling,” you say gently, meaning it.

“Same goes to you,” Miguel replies, remembering the times he has seen you crying. It always tugs at his heart, makes him ache.

“I’ll keep that in mind from now on,” you respond, lowering the napkin. You turn to the cake, remembering the candles. You quickly make sure the wax isn’t melting severely before turning back to him with a sigh of relief. “I forgot about the candles.”

Miguel chuckles. “That’s my fault.” He puts himself together. “I’m ready,” he says.

You grin and go around the counter. “Lyla, please do the honors.”

Miguel’s eyebrows raise at that before Lyla and you begin to sing happy birthday to him, both in English and Spanish, though you stick to a shorter version of the latter once you notice the candles begin to drip.

While you both sing, Miguel stands in front of the cake grinning at the sight, his gentle heart more than content.

“Cha, cha, cha!” Lyla and you add cheering for Miguel, who gives you an endearing smile because you remembered the ‘cha, cha, cha’ he mentioned on Gabby’s birthday, a family tradition.

“Happy Birthday, Miguel!” you say, clapping with Lyla. “Make a wish before you blow the candles!”

“I’m ready to take pictures,” Lyla says.

Miguel chuckles and leans down, thinking about his wish. God, it has been so long since he’s done this, since he’s made a birthday wish. He gazes at the beautiful cake you’ve baked for him, already knowing that it’ll taste amazing. He can’t help but look at it with awe since you managed to decorate it as if it’s a record player, the ‘Happy Birthday, Miguel!!’ being the record’s title. You put so much thought to the cake and that alone makes Miguel want to shed a few tears again, but he focuses on making a birthday wish, or else there will be candle wax on the lovely icing.

He slowly looks up at you, smiling.

“Okay, birthday wish in three… two… one!” Lyla counts.

Miguel closes his crimson eyes and makes his wish before blowing the candles. He opens his eyes again and looks up at you, smiling, while Lyla and you cheer.

“Queremos pastel, pastel, pastel [we want cake, cake, cake],” you two continue, making Miguel chuckle.

“Alright, alright,” he says, feeling amused, touched, happy — all of the above. “Thank you, you two.”

After gathering everything needed to slice the cake and Lyla taking photos of it at Miguel’s gentle request for memories, Miguel cuts the cake and gives you the first slice before serving himself.

“What did you wish for, Miguel?” Lyla suddenly asks.

“What?” Miguel asks, caught off guard by the question.

“Your birthday wish. What was it?” she asks.

“I don’t think - I’m supposed to share that,” Miguel says, sitting down next to you.

“The rule is you can’t share it, or it won’t happen,” you add.

“Augh, you’ll have to tell me if it does come true then, Miguel. I’m noisy.”

Miguel and you laugh at that, which only makes Lyla playfully roll her eyes. These humans.

“I’ll think about it,” Miguel finally says. “For now, I won’t say anything,” he adds, not taking a chance. His birthday wish is simple, but still, Miguel doesn’t want to risk it. He slowly looks over at you while you cut the slice of cake into a smaller bit before eating. If not telling anyone means he’ll celebrate his birthday with you every year until his last one, then Miguel won’t tell a soul, not even Gabriel when he visits him at the cemetery. He smiles and turns to his own slice to eat it.

He picks up a piece with his utensil, his eyes closing in delight. The cake is exquisite and unlike anything Miguel has ever had, so much that a little moan of satisfaction escapes from him. “Mmm, this is amazing!”

You turn to look at him, hearing the little noise. For some reason, your cheeks feel hot suddenly. You clear your throat and smile, still thinking about it for a few seconds before you push the thought away. “I’m glad you like it. I tried my best!”

“This is - wow, I think I need a second slice already,” Miguel says, smiling happily.

You chuckle, satisfied that Miguel is enjoying it so much. “It’s your cake, get yourself a second slice,” you reply.

“Hey, isn’t there a tradition that the birthday person gets some cake on their face?” Lyla asks all of a sudden, floating in front of the two of you. She lays on her stomach and supports her head with both hands with a little mischievous grin.

“Yeah,” Miguel replies, looking at the cake. “Some people still push the birthday person into the cake, but the norm now is to simply put a little bit of icing on the person’s nose if they’re okay with it.”

“Oooh,” Lyla responds, gleefully. “Should we have Y/N do it? Have her put a little bit of icing on your nose? For a picture, at least.”

You glance at Miguel just as he looks at you.

“I wouldn’t mind, if you’re okay with it,” you say gently.

“I’m not - oppose to it, if you don’t mind,” Miguel says at the same time.

At the side, Lyla’s mischievous grin widens. “Perfect!

And so, with a grinning Lyla capturing the moment, you pick up a little bit of icing from the cake with your index fingertip. You turn to Miguel, silently asking if it’s really okay.

Miguel smiles a bit and nods.

Smiling, you gently dab some of the delicious icing on the tip of Miguel’s nose. You pull your hand back and take a good look, giggling softly at the cute sight.

Miguel smiles, his heart leaping with tenderness at your sweet giggle. Lyla, of course, records and takes pictures before Miguel wipes the icing away.

A few minutes later, Lyla watches quietly from the side, smiling. It was no little accident that she revealed Miguel’s birthday. She thought it was time that you knew, time for Miguel to begin celebrating his birthday again after so long.

After all, her boss is no longer alone.

Not anymore.

She hums, hearing you two continue to talk before she shakes her head. You both called her a ‘profesional yapper’ some time ago, but here you are, yapping and yapping with each other unlike with anyone else. Lyla grins though, happily taking a few more pictures of her favorite yappers to add to her secret album of photos before flickering away, her mission complete.

“You know, this is a lot of cake,” Miguel says, looking over at it. “Would you mind…”

“I’m listening,” you say gently, having a feeling you know where this is going.

“It’ll be in the spur of the moment, but what if we invite the gang?” Miguel asks, turning to face you. “Is that okay?”

You scoff playfully. “Migs, you don’t need to ask me. The cake is yours. It’s your birthday. If you want to invite them and share, please go ahead.”

And so, half an hour later, Miguel’s kitchen and dining area is occupied and filled with lighthearted conversation and laughter. Despite the late notice, everyone who was able to make it arrived with something in regards to food to celebrate along with the cake you baked.

Surrounded by friends, Miguel subtly smiles to himself.

It’s nice not to be alone on his birthday.

He turns to face you, finding you at his side, of course. He smiles tenderly at you. It really is nice not to be alone on his birthday. Miguel looks around for a second, noticing that everyone is highly entertained by a story Spider-Man Noir is telling from his dimension.

“How about café de olla [coffee pot] later and maybe… a movie?” he asks quietly, almost in a whisper. Hoping.

You grin and nod. “Sounds like a plan,” you whisper, catching Miguel’s hidden question in his proposal: spend the night at the penthouse?

You both turn your attention back to the Spider-Man, smiling softly to yourselves.

For the first time in many years, Miguel O’Hara doesn’t pretend his birthday is a regular and average day nor does he spend it alone. And perhaps, if there’s such a thing as birthday wishes coming true, it’ll be the first of many, many, many more birthdays to come with his best friend at his side.

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A/N: Surprise again! 🤭 I wanted to do a birthday chapter for Miguel last year, but I learned too late about it and didn't have time to write one. It didn't make sense anyway since they were still not so... close, hehe! So, I couldn't miss this year's!

I've spent the last two days since part 18 writing and writing and writing to make this possible, and thankfully nothing in my life happened and intervened with my plans 😭🙏🏼 Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed this one and the last new two chapters!! I appreciate everyone who has reblogged and left sweet comments -- *remembers Lara's wish for both sides of my pillow to be warm tonight, llumetrii's reaction pic with a baseball bat, the majority of readers telling me they either cried or were about to, and the anon ask in my inbox rn saying they're going to draw the "most devious and diabolical emo angst art" and to watch my back after part 19*... thank you!! 🥰😌🤭

As always, comments and/or reblogs are greatly appreciated, so if you enjoyed this one, show it some love and I might just let Miguel and Dulzura kiss nex- just kidding, but what if? Nah, I'm just kidding, but we're so much closer to those days. I've found myself thinking about it more and more and !!! I wish I could tell you my plans but I cannot, pookies 🤭

That's all, thank you so much guys!!

Alondra❤️ p.s. can we talk about Stan Lee's cameo? I was literally so surprised to see him there, too (no, like, the way I was writing that scene and he just came to mind out of nowhere?? I had a lot of fun with that scene), but he def knew what he was talking about sjskjkdj wise man!! 🙂‍↕️

Taglist:

@loverlorn @saturnknows @d1lf-loverrr @eddiestitmiguelsbigdick @freehentai @arithestrawberry @scaleniusrm @haradasaya @spidermanismyfav @bitchykittenconnoisseur @thecraziestcrayon @obi-mom-kenobi @natsury-kazuki @coraline750 @edgycatx @safixiovi @sunnyx07 @nxrdamp

@rorel1a @oceanstar19 @happishark @carmilla01 @somebodyelsethanyouthink @adora-but-ginger @angie2274 @vampi-amora @tired-writer04 @plzfeedmebread @shadow-pancake9 @tynakub @faretheeoscar @giulscomix @luvstuffies @coffeeauthorvibing @lauraolar14 @bl0osclues @pinkiemme @lil-cinn @mashiromochi @loveletterfrommwah @muzansucker @theleftkittycollection @kikookii @www-interludeshadow-com @holographicang3l @aisyakirmann @bucky-to-my-barnes @geraskier-thots @l3laze @yujyujj

@taylorsmakingfuckingmacandcheese @damhanallagorm @heyohalie @kaliuea @moonsua1 @darksidescorner @geminis93 @1800-get-alife @hrrtkreuz @oharasfilipinawife @dropyoursocksandgrabyourcrocss @may4ri @t4naiis @f1-hoff @llumetrii @nina-from-317

credit for green divider to @/vysleix

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara imagine #atsv x reader #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara fanfiction #spiderman 2099 #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #nonviolent communication #soft!Miguel O'Hara

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