#if you wanted a serious answer you would have to go to my main

[musings-of-a-rose]

Could I request Benny x female reader where they engage in mutual masturbation and they make out throughout?

Touch

Pairing: Benny Miller x best friend f!reader

Word Count: 1900+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

Notes: Listen. This was a hot ask. I'll admit, I had to think on this one a bit (and that was mostly staring at the wall). A huge thanks to @mermaidxatxheart as usual for listening to my Ted Talks and insecurities.

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**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Benny Miller Masterlist

“The date went bad I take it?” Benny’s eyebrows are raised as he motions for me to come inside his apartment. He closes the door behind me as I huff.

“He kept taking out his phone and texting. His mom. He was giving her a play by play of our date.”

Benny chuckled. “What? During your date?”

I kick off my heels and set them on his shoe mat. “I’m all for strong family bonds, but maybe wait until after the date? I could barely talk to him. It was literally every 2 minutes.”

Benny chuckled again. “Well I’m sorry it sucked. You’re welcome to come finish this terrible movie I’m watching.”

I follow Benny to his couch, plopping down next to him. We’d been best friends for years. He was always someone I could count on to be there for me, good or bad. He never judged or questioned me, but somehow always seemed to have an answer to my problems. He hands me a drink and offers me some popcorn from the giant bowl in his lap. I grab a handful and watch whatever b horror movie is on the tv. 

“Ugh even the ugly ass monster in this bad movie is getting laid why can’t I?”

Benny coughs, choking a little on his popcorn. “What?”

Fuck, I said that out loud. 

“I uh…nothing.”

He takes a swig from his drink, clearing the last of the popcorn. “Afraid no one will touch you again?”

I groan, but I’m also desperate for advice. “No. Well…maybe. It’s not even sex. I just want someone to touch me again. Someone that’s not me or Henry Cavill.”

Benny laughs, his head flying back. “You know Henry Cavill?”

I can feel the heat on my cheeks, but I’ve already said it. “That’s…that’s the name of my vibrator.” His laughter is contagious and I can’t stop myself from smiling. He makes some quips about it and then something happens in the movie that captures our attention. 

“I can help you with that if you’d like.”

My head snaps in his direction. “What?” Did he just offer to…surely not.

He turns his head, his bright blue eyes boring into mine, a sparkle in them. “I can help you with your problem.”

Heat burns my cheeks and I’m grasping at words. Surely he doesn’t mean…he can’t…without thinking, I glance down at his hands, the grip on his bottle, and how small it looks in them. I swallow hard.

“Ben, be serious.”

He leans forward, the muscles in his arms flexing slightly as he places his bottle on the coffee table before sitting back, casually laying an arm across the back of the couch as if he didn’t just suggest shoving his hand down my pants. 

“I’m serious, sweetheart. Look, you’ve had a really rough go of it. And I would make sure you were taken care of. You’re too pent up. Let some steam out.”

I shift slightly in my seat, which doesn’t go unnoticed by him. It’s not that I’ve never thought about it. Benny is extremely attractive. I just never would ever think he’d be ok with that with me. For me? I can’t even think. 

“Ben…I can’t lose your friendship. That would break me.”

He extends a long finger from the hand that’s across the back of the couch and pokes my head. “Do you think I’d ever let that happen?”

I swat at his hand out of reflex. “Is that something we could control though?”

He thinks for a moment. “It’s us. We’re best friends. We take care of each other. I think we’d be fine.”

“But what if it changes everything?”

He takes my hand in his large one, completely engulfing me. He looks into my eyes and does that thing where his eyebrows pull together and makes me melt. “I promise to not let it change the way I feel about you. Do you promise?”

Could I make that promise? The not-so-minor crush I’ve harbored for him for years is begging. Your feelings won’t change because you already like him. 

“How would…I mean, what would you…”

Benny shifts to face me better. “I’d touch you however you need me to. Maybe make out a little bit if you need to be distracted.”

I press my thighs together, hoping that he didn’t notice. But judging by the way he shifts and his eyes darken slightly, I think he very much noticed. Pressing my thighs together did nothing to quell the heat, my body begging me to just let me be touched. I feel safe with Benny and I know he’d never cross a line. My skin is hot thinking about it and I finally cave, promising myself that we’d still be friends. Just friends that gave each other a hand sometimes. 

Before I can talk myself out of it, I nod, moving to undo the button on my pants. Benny reaches out and stills my hand with his own and I look up at him.

“I need you to say it out loud, sweetheart.”

I swallow hard, trying my best to give him eye contact. Were his eyes always so blue? 

“Y-yes.”

“Yes, what? I need specifics.”

I let out a huff and this fucker chuckles. “Touch me, Benny. I..want you to touch me.”

Benny scoots closer to me on the couch, his leg pressed against mine. His large hand cups my cheek as he dips his head close to mine, his breath puffing out over my face, fanning the anticipatory fire between my thighs. “Can I kiss you?” he whispers. 

“Yes.” 

I barely get it out before his lips are on mine, soft but guiding, his tongue gently probing at my lips. I open them and his tongue slides inside my mouth, gracefully dancing with my own as he moans slightly into me. Both of his hands are on my face now, cupping my cheeks as he continues to kiss me. Then one moves to the back of my head, slightly gripping my hair as he tips my head back, exposing my neck to him. I gasp as his teeth skirt along my skin, gently nipping and kissing along my pulse point. The hand that isn’t entangled in my hair starts to glide down my body, barely even fumbling as he unbuttons my pants. But he doesn’t touch me. Not yet. Over my jeans, he caresses my inner thighs as I spread my legs, tracing the line where my underwear sits, up and down, up and down, driving me mad. My heart is racing, pounding against my ears. I feel him pause just above my mound and I want to cry. 

“Can you slide your pants off for me?” He breathes into my ear. My hands fumble as I try to shove and kick my pants off, ignoring the smirk on Benny’s face as the pants land somewhere across the room. 

“Panties too. Promise I won’t look.” He covers his face, a large gap between his fingers where his eye is obviously looking out. 

“Don’t you need to see?”

He closes the gap in his fingers but keeps his eyes covered. “Nope. Your sounds will guide me to where I need to be.”

Fuck. Me.

I toss my underwear somewhere by my pants. “Ok I’m-”

I have no time to think because he’s back on me, kissing me hard, like he’s never needed anything so bad. My fingers tangle in his hair, the cool air from his apartment hitting my bare skin, but I don’t care. Benny’s large hand is on my inner thighs again, tracing circles, but also pushing them open. I keep them where he leaves them, my body practically shaking with anticipation.

One long finger slides down me and I jolt, my thighs trying to close, but he pushes them back open before resuming his touch. He slides all the way down to my entrance, gently tracing circles there and I gasp, my eyes still closed as I let myself get lost in his touch. Our foreheads are pressed together, his own breaths coming out a little more ragged as he drags his dampened finger back up me, pausing when my legs jump. He takes his time at this spot, small circles across my clit, fast and slow, fast and slow, my breaths coming out in small, fast pants. 

He slows his movements, gently pushing a finger inside me. I moan, louder as he pulls out and adds a second finger, curling them inside of me as he moves them in and out. One spot has me gasping his name and that’s where he stays, curling and rubbing inside of me as his thumb resumes circling my clit, slow and fast, gentle and harder, the pressure building quick and fast. I grip his wrist and he stills. 

“Can I touch you? I want you to come with me.”

He nods and I move my hand over and undo his button, sliding his zipper down gently. He’s already hard, straining against his boxers. I lower them enough for him to spring free and he grunts. I grip his wrist again and pull his hand out of me with a whimper, but then slide him back in and out, fucking myself with his hand a few times as he moans in my ear. Then I take his wet hand and rub it against my palm, dropping his hand back on me before gripping him with my slicked hand. He whimpers, swearing under his breath before he pushes his fingers inside me again, immediately resuming the slow curling and rubbing, his thumb pressing gently on my clit. I slowly work him up and down, squeezing harder and softer, matching my pace to his. He kisses me hard but then breaks it, our foreheads pressed together as we pant and moan. 

In some super move, he pushes me onto my back, his hand still firmly working me over, my legs spread wide as he settles between them, fucking his hips into my hand. His arm strains next to me as he holds himself up, curling his fingers a little deeper, swirling a little more and I can’t hold back anymore. I cum, his name tumbling from my lips in praise, my legs twitching as I pulse around his fingers. Another few presses of his hips and Benny grunts, small pants coming from him as he spills himself over my stomach, my shirt hiked up to my chest. We stay like that for several long moments, both of us trying to catch our breaths. His eyes open and meet mine, holding my gaze for a moment before he blinks, pulling his hand from me as he sits up. He tucks himself back in as he looks around, shrugs, then reaches behind him and pulls his shirt up and over his head. He drops his shirt on my cunt, using the sleeve to clean off my stomach, to hold up his promise of not looking. He glances down and picks up my underwear and pants, handing them to me as he turns his head away. I make sure I’m cleaned off before getting dressed, sitting back down on the couch, the movie still playing on in the background. Minutes pass in silence between us, my stomach twisting in knots with every passing second. 

Benny clears his throat. “So…are we never talking about this again or can I finally take you on a date?”

My eyes snap up to him, his already on me. There’s no pressure here, he’d be ok if I said we’re never talking about it again. But that’s not what I want. 

“Just so long as we can have dessert at home.”

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[axhellart]

Leona and a representation with love topics (female & male)

Everything said on this analysis is just a personal opinion, I don't mean to offend nor step on someone else's view or headcanons. Thanks to @/Viperkun to translate it.

First of all, we need to start from the basics and ask ourselves, Who is Leona Kingscholar? Leona is a complex character, filled by development which not everyone sees through or most of the time tends to not notice. He's a character that tends to have high expectations over a depression pretty deep and prolonged, there´s many themes regarding those feelings of inferiority, demotivation and many others, which leads to his self sabotage. However, at first glance he doesn't allows himself to feel pity towards others due to his own high ego and pride, he's a man that despite finding his own life pretty unfair, keeps going on in his own way and stipule.

Now, how would this affect his romantic relationships? The answer may change depending on the person who is by his side, this includes gender. Leona is very polite towards women since he's from a country which prioritizes them, they're stronger and bigger than the usual males from the same country, and so, even if women doesn't really fit this kind of criteria, he's still going to be respectful towards them.

No, he wouldn't be a role model prince (as an example, Eliza, with who he shared a few words one on one, then nothing more), but he's not going to have thoughts or actions that could be considered nor even be close to the category or definition of "incel".

He's not someone who overpowers by his strength or title over women; yes, he speaks with sarcasm, cynicism, and teasing is his second language, but he would never start any situation in which he would make someone uncomfortable or even less put someone at risk or danger (Overblot aside, since Yuu has no specific gender. If that was the case and Yuu was a girl -just like Savanaclaw's manga Yuu-, it's not that Leona decided to have a breakdown due to her or to hurt her, it was something out of his control due to circumstances)

In the case we talk about a boy, it wouldn't be too different from how we see Leona acting towards the rest of the twst cast in game; maybe the level of respect would lessen just a bit to talk in a bolder way we can consider as you to you.

I want to clarify that I'm not saying Leona is a bully towards a romantic male interest, just that he would probably have more fluid talks through a mutual understanding by sharing similar biological features if we put emotional and psychological sides apart, Reiterating it wouldn't be too far from his canon interactions with the original cast. Regarding my personal opinion (as well as this post is) I don't see Leona as someone who uses petnames with his romantic interest, at least not early into the relationship (established or not)

I know, there are many who have seen him or portray him as someone who would use nicknames as "my love", "darling", etc, and I don't invalidate any of them, though I can't really see them coming from someone who's stoic and serious most of the time. "Love melts even the coldest of hearts", yes, however it's complicated relating this through a romantic or platonic relationship with Leona, it's a bit complicated and takes some time.

As I mentioned before, he's a man with issues,problems which were born from deep insecurities and an inferior complex too huge to make them disappear all of a sudden just for love. It's a slow process, I'm not saying that he's going to be toxic once he gets into a relationship just that as many others the relationship would take more time and it's going to be complicated to finally establish it. The first phase of Leona being in love is denial, his main goal won't be focusing emotionally on a person, however, if he falls through this thought he would probably and mostly spend his time with said person; not being a man who would easily please someone with words, let's remember his brain tends to go under the logical side of things rather than emotional.

Even so, he's a man who's predominant love language (at least through this phase) is gift giving. Leona is a smart and sharp-eyed man, knowing at least a bit of the interest of the ones around him (Just look at Idia's second birthday card in which Leona gives him a chess set or how in more than on ocassion he gives Ruggie different things without him asking him to do so under their agreement of basic services; even when he gives a salad to Riddle or a pen to Vil, despite being unnecesary objects, and most of them being related to more of a silly/fun kind of interaction, they exist to let you know that he remembers those special days, he knows what to do, he is a man that sees and most importantly listens to his surroundings). Even if Leona's romantic interest doesn't mention they don't want anything Leona would read that somehow, he'll give it a meaning and provide surprise gifts through different kind of occasions for no apparent reason (money isn't a problem for him).

Moment of interlude, appreciate the kitten:

Ok ,let's continue. Once the relationships progresses, PDA will make it's entrance. Leona would be pretty clingy with his loved one, letting his own scent on them to let the others know that he was there first. Don't misunderstand nor mistake this as the kind of a response from a toxic or possessive person, he knows when to give space and how, even he needs it, but that doesn't mean he would let his lover go around without their clothes having the slightest of his scent on it.

He enjoys to take naps on his lover's lap, or even sleeping while embracing them. If we focus on a more natural-like related environment, lions tends to demonstrate their care to others by caressing each other's heads with their own, caressing their fur and also leaving some love bites; it wouldn't be much different here.

Personally I can see Leona giving love bites as a sign of affection; bites on the cheeks, shoulders, hands or neck (this without leading to a sexual side), leaning his head against his lover's one, or their shoulders if they're hugging, lazy little kisses around their face. I've read that when it comes to a girl, Leona would even ask for permission for a kiss, again related to the topic of consent and respect, to which I agree being someone who would ask for permission without words but actions, subtle, around two or three that would feel more than enough for him.

I don't see Leona jumping over or around someone to express his love through the first months into the relationship, he would be patient, testing the waters to see if this person isn't playing or making fun of him and his trust, something that has happened with other characters from the cast.

Please don't misunderstands my words, I've said before that he would ask for consent if his partner was a girl, but this works in case his romantic interest is a boy too, I just see him being more teasing with the last example.

Conclusion: Leona would never be categorized as a toxic man that would use his strength or status over someone he loves. Even if he ever could do so, the most possible scenario is an accidental one and he would make sure to apologize if he mistreated or make his partner uncomfortable. Leona isn't someone that would be afraid of apologizing when he knows he has done something wrong (we can see this during Tamashina Mina and how he apologizes to Jack by not thinking about how the hot weather would affect him since he wasn't from the same place as him). This also doesn't means that he would leave his pride aside, all he has is his own pride anyways, for good or wrong.

He's a responsible man, attentive, someone who wouldn't be the best at using cliche or romantic words at first; but everything will change with time and a slow development, overthrowing the bad times that he could experience as a partner while evolving into someone capable to keep a relationship of respect and lots of mutual and understanding love.

[the-real-gmail]

you're disgusting. fuck you. go kill yourself. i hope you die

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Since you've mentioned Scarlet Lady in one of your posts, what's your opinion on it?

I've mentioned before that I'm a big Scarlet Lady fan, which is the only reason that I'm comfortable answering asks like this one. I don't publicly criticize the content of hobby creators. That's wildly inappropriate! Punch up, not down.

The linked post was a general discussion of the adaptation process and how @zoe-oneesama did a fantastic job, so for this one, I'm just going to do some general gushing because I do actually like praising and enjoying things!

Scarlet Lady's chosen format (comic) allows it to have this wonderful conversation with canon where it can rely on the framework of canon to tell it's own story while also using canon for jokes and meta commentary. This means that Scarlet Lady is about as close as fan content can get to a direct reboot because it's able to have moments like this one from the comic's first post:

[Image description: Adrien standing in his room after transforming into Chat Noir for the first time. He is beaming and his eyes are shining with excitement as he exclaims, "This is gonna be awesome!"]

A single picture that communicates everything we need to know about Adrien getting his miraculous. When I've done this same thing in fanfic, I had to write out the full scene because that's how novels work. You have to give the full picture. With a comic, you can just quickly acknowledge this thing that we all already know and then move on to the new stuff. A picture really is worth a thousand words! (Or, in my case, more like two thousand...)

This allows Zoe to keep the same akumas that we get in canon without her story feeling like a boring rehash because she can focus on what's different in her version. A novelization of the same content would have to show both the stuff that stays the same and the stuff that changes for it to be coherent. That's a lot less fun to read and write. It's why I basically never revisit canon akumas in my own stuff. It's just too derivative for the written word.

This is one of the big reasons that I loved Scarlet Lady. Because it was able to have that more directly conversation with canon, it was able to take canon and say, "hey, why don't we embrace the tone that you established in season one and retell the story with that vibe?" That's something that I desperately wanted to see, but that is totally unsuited to my chosen artistic form. It couldn't be a novel. It had to be a comic.

If you want to know what a true formula show version of Miraculous would look like, Scarlet Lady is it. It does everything that Miraculous should have done:

Sticks to a lighthearted tone where nothing is ever super serious

Keeps Gabriel entirely unsympathetic

Has slow character development and background hints at a bigger plot as the only serial elements, allowing the individual episodes to be their own story while never feeling incomplete or rushed

Allows characters other than Marinette to shine while keeping Marinette as the clear main character

Makes Adrien narratively important

MAKES THE LOVE SQUARE CUTE SO I CAN ACTUALLY SHIP IT

Understands that Lila and Chloe can't coexist as antagonists

Reverses the love square, which is the best way to tell their story. Yes, I will die on my "love diamond" hill. It's a good hill. Come join me. I'll bring cookies.

I could keep going, but you hopefully get my point. While Scarlet Lady is certainly not the only way to do a formula version of canon, it's proof that a formula version does work! You don't have to go the serious route for Miraculous to be successful.

I want to take some time to gush about the ending, but I don't want to spoil it, so I'll put that gushing under a "read more" in case anyone hasn't seen it. I'll finish out this less spoilerish section with this:

I feel like some people are surprised when they learn that I love Scarlet Lady because - as some of you have probably picked up - it is quite different from my ideal version of canon. I'm not sure why that would stop me from enjoying a thing, though. It's important to remember that our personal ideals are not the only way to tell a good story. There are lots of ways to take what canon gave us and make something wonderful! It's part of the reason that I enjoy being in a fandom.

If I only wanted to see my ideal take on canon, then I'd stick to writing/imagining my own stories. But I don't want that! I like seeing alternate takes, too. Scarlet Lady is one of my personal favorites. It's completely different from anything that I'd ever think to write and that's why I'm so glad that it exists! I like being entertained just as much as I like creating my own entertainment and I don't want to only read stories that look like something I'd write. That's boring!

Spoilers below:

I've mentioned before that there are many, many ways to properly handle Chloe's character and Zoe did such a good job with her take on that! Chloe isn't absolved of all the things she did wrong, but she's also treated as a young woman with the ability to change.

While the comic bares the name of Chloe's alter ego, she was the never the main character. She never went on a journey. The story kept her to her shallow season-one self: a petty brat who just wanted attention. It did this because that's who Chloe was in canon and who Chloe needed to be for the comic to work.

The first time we see any complexity from Chloe is in the comic's final few episodes, which was absolutely the right call for Zoe to make! In a recent post, I talked about how the end of a formula show is the only time when you can break the formula in catastrophic ways and that's what Zoe did. She kept Chloe static until it was time to end the story and that's when the formula breaks. That's when Chloe gets depth because, once she has depth, the formula doesn't work.

That depth is not used to redeem Chloe, but to show us that there's hope for Chloe. That this petty brat who we've been dealing with has some serious issues and needs help. Help that she's going to get far away from the people that she's hurt because her issues aren't an excuse for what she's done. They don't erase the harm that she caused. At the same time, understanding her issues makes us hope that she can be better now and Scarlet Lady took a moment to give us that hope. To show us the START of Chloe's true story.

That is the kind of ending that I have wanted to see in so many properties!!! It was so wonderful to finally get one that did this right. A story that understood that full redemption to the team and damnation to death/suffering are extremes on a scale of possibilities. You don't have to go to extremes! You can fall in the middle and the middle is a perfect, natural place for Chloe to land in this kind of story. Fully redeeming or even fully damning Chloe simply doesn't work in lighthearted formula content. It's too big a lift as canon has already demonstrated.

I also loved Zoe's take on Emilie. I've mentioned that I don't like evil Emilie in part because it makes her revival feel like the start of a new story. She's back and she'd bad, so we have to take her down now! But I don't want that. I want the story to end when Gabriel is stopped. Zoe does this by giving us an Emilie that is another perfect middle ground. She matches canon's uncomfortable implications without feeling like a true villain who is a threat to society.

[clarkeyshill]

late night talking

george clarke x fem reader

summary: george yaps whilst you try to sleep

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The bedroom was quiet aside from the hum of the fan that was cooling the room along side the drumming of George’s fingers on the duvet. He was sat with his back against the headboard and his knee bent, his gaze dropped down to your sleeping figure.

George gently tapped your shoulder making you stir as you tried to fight waking up, “Are you awake?” He asked through a whisper.

You murmured a ‘no’ pulling the quilt over your head trying to fall back to sleep.

George hummed turning his attention back to the ceiling as he started to drum on his knees again.

You rolled your eyes flipping over burying your head into curve of your boyfriends waist, George smiled letting his hand dropped to your hip.

As you slowly drifted back to sleep you were jolted back awake as you felt a jab into your rib, “George.” You grumbled, “go to sleep, please.”

“I can’t sleep.”

“Why?”

You felt the bed wiggle indicating that he shrugged. You flopped over onto your back with a huff, “Go on then.”

George grinned reaching over you to turn the lamp on before you glanced over at him, “Imagine if there was an apocalypse,” he started, you squeezed your eyes shut pretending to imagine it making a giggle leave George’s lips, “who would you choose to be on your team?”

“How many people can I have?”

“Four people.”

“Okay,” you nodded, tapping your chin as you thought carefully, “you obviously.”

George pumped his fist in the air celebrating, “I would’ve been so offended if you didn’t pick me.”

You laughed shimmying closer to him, “And then I’d pick Liv because otherwise I’d be bored.”

A chuckle left George’s mouth as he started to play with your hair twirling it softly between his fingers, “Two more people.”

“Bach, so Liv doesn’t get lonely.” You added, thinking through your list of friends trying to decide who else you would pick, “and then I’d pick maybe…”

You hummed, “I don’t know who else I would pick.”

“Neither of the Arthur’s?” George asked curiously.

You shook your head with a laugh, “no, tv would be too analytical for me, and hill is injured and would whine the whole time.”

George let out a laugh making you smile up at him, “What about Chris?”

“Maybe,” you nodded, thinking about it for a moment, “Alright, I’d take Chris because he can cook.”

“Fair enough.”

You looked over at your boyfriend expectantly waiting for his answer, “What about you, princess?” You teased, earning a glare from your boyfriend.

“If we’re thinking in a practical sense; I’d take Reev, Harry, and Chris.” He answered, counting them out on his fingers, “But if we’re talking in a don’t care if i die way; I’d take you…”

“Yeah. brilliant, thank you.” You grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest earning a laugh.

“And then I’d take Arthur Hill, Max and probably Arthur TV as well.”

You gave him a sarcastic smile, “that’s lovely.”

George laughed once again moving to lay down, “I have another question.”

You nodded turning on your side to face him, “What’s that?”

“When did you realise you wanted to be with me?” He asked, looking into your eyes adoringly noticing your cheeks darken at the question.

You shrugged your shoulders, “I don’t know.” You muttered, dropping your head down, “I always found you attractive I guess.”

“Obviously.” He joked, ticking your waist making you squirm.

“Stop,” you pushed his hand away with a laugh, “Maybe after my birthday.”

“What? This year? Honey, we’ve been together for 2 years.”

You slapped his bicep gently, “be serious will you.”

“After my 21st, we had been talking for a few months at that point, and you were chatting away to my parents and dancing with my baby sister and it just made me think of you differently.”

George smiled softly at you brushing your hair from your face, “That’s cute.” He cooed, kissing your forehead softly.

“Yeah, yeah.” You hummed, turning around so your back was pressed against his chest, “can I go back to sleep now?”

“Of course.” He smiled, kissing the crown of your head before turning off the lamp.

[fleurvi]

Sick!S/O | Arcane Women

request for arcane women with a sick gf

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characters: ambessa, caitlyn, grayson, mel, sevika, vi

cw: fem!reader

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Ambessa Medarda

Ambessa doesn't really take care of you when you're sick. She's a warrior, not a doctor. But we're delusional here, so I'll go with it.

You are not allowed to lift a finger. You need to recover properly so she'll have guards around you at all times so you can order them to get things for you. She visits you regularly to check up on your health and make sure you're being doted on. In a rare occurrence, she offers you a massage to relax you.

“How are you feeling?” Ambessa asks, heavy hands working against your shoulders and neck. You nod, thanking her for her service. “Maybe a bath would do you good.”

✩♬ ₊˚.✂️⋆☾⋆��₊✧

Caitlyn Kiramman

Cait panics. She can't think rationally at all. You cough once, and she's writing a eulogy. When she's sure it's not super serious, she's diligent in her care. She makes sure you stay hydrated and get plenty of rest.

“What are you doing? You should be resting,” says Cait as she notices you getting out of bed.

“Babe, c'mon”

“No. Don't you ‘babe’ me. You should be taking care of yourself,” She fusses, ushering you back to your bed.

✩♬ ₊˚.✂️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Grayson

Grayson believes that if you mope around In bed, you'll just make it worse. She lets you rest when you need it, but she encourages you just to take some painkillers, hydrate adequately and go about your work.

“Here you go,” Grayson says, handing you medication and water. “We've got a busy day. If it gets too much, just let me know, and I'll send you home to rest,” She says, pulling you into a hug and pressing a kiss to your forehead.

✩♬ ₊˚.✂️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Mel Medarda

She just wants you to get better. Mel checks up on you but doesn't spend much time with you because she doesn't want to catch whatever you have. When she does visit you, she makes sure to ask if you're getting what you need and making sure you get it. She's mostly concerned about you resting, so she stays with you, talking softly with you until you fall asleep.

“Are you sure you're okay, my love?” She asks, running her hands over your back.

“Yeah, I think I need to sleep off. Thank you for coming to visit,” you say, closing your eyes.

“You're welcome, My Love”

✩♬ ₊˚.✂️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Sevika

Sevika loves you, but she's not going to baby you. She'll ask you if you're on your deathbed, and if the answer is no, then you can get off your ass and help her with whatever business she's been called on.

If you want Sevika to help you with anything, you've got to turn on the whining. She likes being useful, so if you really need it, she'll sit with you until you fall asleep, but she won't wait for you to wake up. You're tough, like her, so she leaves you to it until you wake up and are ready to get back to work.

✩♬ ₊˚.✂️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Vi

Vi thinks her immune system is “built different”, and she's not entirely wrong. She'll stay with you, hold you while you sleep, and make sure you eat as well as you can in Zaun. If you tell her you're not really hungry, she will lecture you until you give in and at least try to eat.

“C'mon, pretty girl,” Vi says, leaning in to kiss you. You feel gross and push her head away.

“You'll get sick”

“Babe. My immune system is made of steel. I've never gotten sick in my life. Now come here and give me a proper kiss,” she says, rolling her eyes.

“Fine. If you get sick, I'm not gonna baby you.”

“Yes, you will”, she laughs, and you know she's right.

•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•

Thank you for reading!

This was a request! My main interests right now are arcane and attack on titan so please keep dropping in my inbox!

[lxciferuss]

Ms. Ackerman

Summary: Levi's newest Squad and yours are both bickering about the humanities strongest soldier's questionable relationship status. They however didn't imagine he'd be married, and to you out of all people.

Warnings: Husband!Levi x Fem!Captain!Wife!Reader. Swearing. Teenagers arguing about dumb stuff. Reader is around Levi's age so it's all legal. "S/N" stands for (your) Squad's Name. SFW!

English isn't my first language, so sorry for any mistakes. Enjoy!

The distant chatter echoed through the bricked walls to the main hall, where the members of Squad Levi, without their captain, were engaged on a—way too serious—debate about Levi's love-life. Not even the thick, tall wooden doors were able to muffle the constant screams of disagreement between the cadets.

"No! There's no way in hell he's even had his first kiss. Ever!" Connie argued against Mikasa, who was the most hopeful for her Captain and his private issues. She was sat between Eren and Armin, calmly sipping on a cup of freshly brewed coffee while silently enyojing the discussion.

"To be honest, I doubt anyone would ever want to be with him. Have you seen the way he glares at everybody?" Jean jumped in, his face contortioned into an expression of fear and disgust together. "I would not speak a word to him, man or woman."

"I highly doubt he'd even look your way, Jean. You might even be some sort of omen in his day to day." One of your soldiers said, entering the warm, barely lit room. The rest of your squad got in after him, sitting themselves down on the wooden table so to accompany the teenagers. Some others decided to prop themselves up against the wall as there was no space left on the benches.

"My condolences to whoever might be his partner." They all laughed together, even Sasha—who was previously too busy stealing away Connie's dinner to even listen.

"Who's partner are y'all bullying now?" Levi's tone was annoyed and raspy, he glared at the group of cadets that were out, past their bedtime, being obnoxiously loud despite their superior's orders to hush.

His squad froze in fear, stopping all movements as if he couldn't see them that way. Eren gulped, thick, wide eyes looking back at his captain.

Your squad just shut up, smug smiles still plastered all over their faces. They knew better than to try and explain themselves out of Levi's punishment.

"Go spend your time on something wise. This stupid bickering is gonna do nothing to that smooth brain of yours." He sighed, eyebrows knitted together on a deep frown. For times like this he almost regretted choosing a bunch of teens to be part of his mighty squad. Almost.

"I mean- C'mon Captain. When are you gonna tell us 'bout your love li- ow!" Springer held the back of his head, which had been smacked by Mikasa in an attempt to shut him up before he doomed them all.

"Hm?" Levi lifted an eyebrow, wide eyes looking at the group in front of him. He decided to go and make some tea in hopes of freeing himself from the situation.

"Like- Have you got a girlfriend...boyfriend...ever?" Jean spoke and his teamed groaned in defeat. Fifty laps around the training fields weren't sounding so terrible now.

Levi huffed, rolling his eyes as his lips touched the steaming hot liquid on his porcelain cup. He shook his head in disbelief, acting deaf to the questions.

"No offense, Captain, we just don't see you as someone who would have a romantic partner, that's all." Another soldier of yours spoke, nervously tapping their foot on the ground.

"Again, i do not see why my life should be a matter of yours." He sat down on the table besides the younger's, crossing his legs and resting his arm on the back of the wooden chair.

"Please! We want to know!" Sasha whined, mouth full of rice, which made Levi scrunch his nose up in disgust.

Another deep sigh left through his nose, deciding to answer the kids and put an end to the conversation asap.

"If I tell you, will you shut the fuck up?" He groaned, massing his temple with his free hand.

His squad and yours both beamed with happiness, nodding excitedly at the Captain's will to reveal a fact so private.

"Such a pain in the ass." He muttered under his breath, lowering his cup on the table. "I don't have a girlfriend."

Jean's laugh resonated through the walls, hitting Armin in the back and shaking him violently. "I was right! You heard, Mikasa? He doesn't even have a-"

"I'm married; I have a wife."

And suddenly, the room was silent. Mouths agape, the teens turned to look at him, expecting to see some sort of hint of lying on his face.

Levi resumed his tea-drinking, eager to get both teams back to their dorms sooner than ever.

"Sorry, I just- What kind of person would marry you?" A cadet of yours asked, her face still portraying a big shock.

"Why don't you ask your captain instead?"

"Ask me what?" You entered the room with a wide smile, all twelve soldiers automatically saluting. "Captain" you greeted Levi with a deeper voice. He nodded back to you.

"They were asking what kind of person would marry me." His grey eyes glinted as he looked at you, leather straps still attached around your body.

"Oh?" You let out a small giggle, sitting down on top of the table Levi was at, not bothering to pull out a chair. "And what kind of person do you think I am?"

If Jean's jaw was already on the floor, it would easily reach the cellar on the basement below them after the big revelation. Even your squad was a loss of words, exchanging glances between each other.

"Squad Levi, S/N, you are dismissed." Your smile widened at their faces.

"But-"

"Now." Levi's stern voice made everyone rush out of the dinning hall and get back to their dorm room.

"Time you set some limits." You shoved him in the shoulder, a smug grin adorning your lips.

"Time I get a new Squad." He murmured as you both got up and slowly left the hall too, enjoying the rare peace and quiet of the headquarters at night.

[thenationofzaun]

The Vander/Silco Shitshow - generic, juvenile, and gimmicky slop

So, I think that Vander/Silco flashback was terrible. Tropey, careless, juvenile, clichéd bullshit that stripped away everything that made their season 1 story nuanced and poignant, while simultaneously ripping open a fat plot hole because the team got careless and did not catch the discrepancy between the story they'd written in their heads and the visuals that ended up on screen in season 1. This is just going to be a long rant post detailing the reasons I absolutely despised this flashback. Obligatory disclaimer that this is just my (strongly held) opinion.

1) The timeline plot hole

No, I'm not misusing the term. So a plot hole is an inconsistency in a fictional narrative that cannot be explained away by any plausible in-universe justifications. There are many moments of weak writing in Arcane that may be contrived, rushed, weird, convenient, etc. but aren't plot holes.

This Vander/Silco situation however. Oh boy. If you all remember, Season 1 opened with the bridge massacre, also known as the Day of Ash. Vander is shown cracking enforcers' skulls. He looks like this.

The sisters, seemingly recognizing him, ask him where their parents are. He gestures to their corpses, the sisters cry, Vander has his "violence is not the answer" epiphany, drops the gauntlets very dramatically to underscore this massive turning point of character development for him, then picks the girls up and leaves the bridge.

In episode 3, we are shown a flashback. Vander is trying to kill Silco in the river. He looks like this.

Let's compare this to how he looked like on the Day of Ash.

Yeah. According to the visuals shown in Season 1, the falling out of Vander and Silco seems to have occured in the past before the Day of Ash, evidenced by how much younger Vander looks. Unless Silco is a time traveller who jumped forward to the future to throw a molotov at the riot because he just loves violent extremism that much, or Vander took the time to shave his beard and apply heavy duty anti-aging lotion on his face before hunting Silco down, there are no plausible in-universe explanations for this inconsistency. Not to mention, if Silco and Vander were really as close as brothers and the sisters knew Vander, then it's impossible they wouldn't have known who Silco was.

Yet, in Season 1, that's exactly what we see - not a single sliver of recognition between Silco and the girls, nothing to imply they knew of his existence before episode 3. Not a single conversation between Jinx and Silco implied that he knew, let alone was close to, her mother. Nothing from Vi throughout the entire first season indicated that she knew of his past friendships with her mother and Vander. They acted like total strangers to each other.

Many fans already caught this inconsistency during the three-year gap after writers' comments online implied Silco was involved in the Day of Ash. We had hoped the writers would catch on to this discrepancy too and either iron out the timeline if they want to do serious flashbacks, or just avoid calling attention to it completely by not doing flashbacks of their falling out. Alas.

2) Leonardo Dicaprio pointing meme

Death to the everybody-knows-everyone trope and lines that only exist to invoke the "Leonardo Dicaprio pointing" meme. Throw them into a fucking fire. Boring, mind-numbing, clichéd, overdone garbage. Not every character needs to have some kind of half-baked relation with each other. Not every major incident needs to be tied back to the main characters. Not every single detail needs to be overexplained and justified and again, somehow tied to a main character. They are unnecessary, and make the world feel so much more claustrophobic and smaller than it should be.

"The enforcers actually commited the Day of Ash massacre because SILCO threw a molotov. Vander actually tried to kill Silco because of VI AND JINX'S mother. She knew both Silco and Vander personally and TOLD THEM to help her raise her kids. VANDER named Vi."

Bullshit like this really fucks with immersion, because it becomes clear very quickly that the world is only occupied by a small handful of real characters while the thousands of other people in it are nothing more than inconsequential set dressing and wallpaper. The story and world no longer feel real, vast, and immersive. And these forced "connections" between main characters are so obviously manufactured to generate "OUGHHH" and Dicaprio pointing reactions. Idk about anyone else, but it takes me completely out of the story when I can obviously tell the writing is trying too hard to blow my mind.

The girls' mom waltzing up to Vander and Silco and just. Fucking telling them to help her with her kids lmfaoooooooo. (OUGHH and they both really ended up raising her kids WOAGH😱🤯). Jinx's mom saying choosing a name is stressful because her child will feel stuck with it (GASP and Powder ended up changing her name WOOOOWW😱). Vander coming up with Vi's fucking name. (OUGHHHH HE REALLY WAS MEANT TO BE FATHER ALL ALONG WOADGHHGHDHDH🤯🤯🤯).

Fucking kill me. Arcane Season 1 was surprisingly good precisely because they DIDN'T, for the most part, resort to tropey bullshit like this. It had, for the most part, originality. Uniqueness. In fact all the strongest aspects of Season 1, aspects I loved, were deliberate subversions of overdone clichés. For Season 2 to resort to this kind of writing reminiscent of Disney slop is insanely disappointing.

I'm waiting for a character to unironically say, "What are we, some kind of League of Legends?" in Act 3 now.

3) "Ohhhhh so THAT'S why he did that!!!!!!!!!"

Also death to overexplanations and giving justifications for things that never needed justifications. You know what I was never confused by while watching Season 1 of Arcane? Why Vander adopted the girls. Why Silco adopted Jinx. Why both came to care for their girls so much, they were willing to sacrifice so much for them. I thought the reasons for those things were very clear and poignant in the first season. I never needed an extra on-the-nose justification for the adoptions in the form of, "they wuved yo mama". It's not only redundant, it's also one of the most tired ass tropes in fiction. To me, Vander taking in the girls and Silco taking in Jinx are so much more powerful if they really were just random guys with no real connection to the girls' parents.

But I've already seen some positive reactions to this flashback with "Ohhhhh so THAT's why Silco/Vander cared for the girls so much, now I understand😯🤯😓" mf what exactly did you not understand before??

4) Character motivations

The motivations of both Vander and Silco are made downright bizarre by this flashback. So Silco was hellbent on murdering Vi last season, despite being close friends with her mom whose death he may feel guilty for? Literally despised her and wanted to kill her the entire time with no hesitation lol. So Vander had that aforementioned dramatic moment of character development, dropped the gauntlets, realized violence wasn't the answer, and carried the kids to safety... then doubled back to violently hunt down and murder Silco? But not before shaving his beard and applying youthful lotion of course. Can't kill your bro while looking crusty. Then he failed to kill Silco so he just... went back to the kids and pretended like nothing happened? Lol.

Silco being close to, let alone loving, the girls' parents makes no fucking sense for his character. Vander knowing them at least makes sense, but casual friends would have sufficed. "I was lowkey crushing (?????) on your mom and also named you" just cheapened the entire Vander/Vi and Silco/Jinx surrogate father dynamic. Vander's motivation for killing Silco being yet another fridged woman is also weak as fuck. First Viktor with Sky, and now Vander/Silco. They really should have left this one up to our imaginations if this was the boring tripe they came up with.

[deliciousangelfestival]

The Imperfect Couple - 1 | Bucky

Character: politician!Bucky x ex-wife!reader

Summary: A separated couple must pretend to be happily married while the husband runs for Vice President, dealing with old issues and political pressures during his election campaign.

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 ,Chapter 5 , Chapter 6 , Chapter 7 , Chapter 8 , Chapter 9 , Chapter 10 , Chapter 11 , Chapter 12 , Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

You were exhausted. Having just returned from covering another incident, you were familiar with the grueling reality of being a journalist in a foreign country.

Limited access compared to local reporters made the job even more challenging. Despite your fatigue, this was the career you had chosen and loved.

When you arrived at your apartment, you noticed a woman waiting for you. She was shorter and bustier than you, with curly, short red hair. The woman approached you with a confident stride.

“Hello. My name is Natasha,” she introduced herself, handing you a business card.

You glanced at the card, noting her affiliation with the Secret Service.

Is this for real?

“Yes. How may I help you?” You asked, confusion evident in your voice as you fumbled with your keys at the doorknob.

“I’m here to bring you back home,” Natasha replied.

“Why?” you asked, still trying to process why a Secret Service agent would be looking for you.

“Because your husband is looking for you,” Natasha said.

You froze, your mind struggling to make sense of what you had just heard. Turning slowly, you looked at Natasha, your face betraying a hint of incredulous amusement. “I’m sorry? You must be mistaken. I’ve been divorced for years.”

“Yes, I know the story,” Natasha said, her tone steady.

“Goodbye then,” you said quickly, attempting to close the door. The mention of your ex-husband was something you had left behind, and you wanted nothing to do with it.

“The divorce was never finalized,” Natasha said firmly.

“What?” you exclaimed, your eyes widening in disbelief. You had signed the documents, or so you thought. You swung the door open wide and saw two more men standing beside Natasha, their presence making it clear you were outnumbered—three to one.

“Seems like you’ve come to understand the situation,” Natasha said. “I’ll explain everything, but for now, you need to follow me.”

What she meant by following her quickly became apparent as the men gently but firmly guided you toward a car.

Inside, you hoped Natasha would provide answers, but she continued making calls, leaving you in a state of growing frustration.

Upon arriving at the airport, you realized it was not a regular one but a private jet facility.

“Let’s go,” Natasha said, gesturing toward the plane’s stairs.

As you climbed aboard, you noticed Natasha following closely behind. An air steward offered you a tray with a cup of jasmine tea. You took a sip, the delicate aroma providing a brief moment of comfort.

“Let me guess, this is his plane?” you asked, your tone tinged with suspicion.

“Yes,” Natasha nodded.

As the plane took off, the tension in the cabin was palpable.

“You still haven’t said a word,” you remarked, trying to break the silence.

“Because of the timing and for precautions,” Natasha said, her expression serious. “You won’t like what I’m going to say.”

“Tell me something I don’t hate more. You know how much I despise my ex-husband and his family,” you snapped, the bitterness clear in your voice. The memories of their interference and disdain for your background still stung deeply.

“Your husband is going to be the candidate for Vice President,” Natasha said, her voice steady despite the gravity of the news.

“...What?” you replied, your voice barely a whisper as you processed the information.

Natasha didn’t respond immediately. Instead, she pulled out a tablet and handed it to you. On the screen, you saw a video of your ex-husband. He stood proudly in a suit, smiling and raising his arms as the crowd erupted in cheers.

The title beneath the video read, “James Barnes: The Youngest Candidate for Vice President.”

You gasped, your disbelief palpable. “This is a joke.”

“Hundreds of supporters don’t think it’s a joke, ma’am,” Natasha replied, her tone matter-of-fact.

“And the reason I’m here is because he needs you,” she continued.

You clenched your fists in anger. The reason for your resentment was clear: his ambition and his family’s obsessive involvement in politics. Their relentless meddling had been one of the key reasons for your separation.

“Turn this plane around,” you demanded, your voice strained. You didn’t understand why, but exhaustion was overtaking you, and your eyes felt heavy.

Natasha glanced at her watch, a hint of sympathy in her gaze. “You must be feeling sleepy.”

You widened your eyes and looked at the tea cup, realizing its effects. You shot Natasha a glare, frustration mixing with fatigue.

“I’m just doing my job, ma’am,” Natasha said, accepting a blanket from the air stewardess.

You wanted to protest, but the energy drained from you. As your vision dimmed, you felt a wave of drowsiness. You closed your eyes and succumbed to sleep.

Natasha watched you as you fell asleep, then carefully draped the blanket over you. She turned to her colleagues with a resolute expression. “Tell him to pick up his wife.”

✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️

You slowly regained consciousness, your head feeling heavy and foggy. As you blinked open your eyes, the reality of your surroundings became clear: you were still on the airplane, but it had stopped moving. The plane had arrived, and you were still groggy from the drugs.

“Welcome home,” a familiar voice said.

You widened your eyes, trying to focus on the figure before you. There, standing with a knowing smile, was your ex-husband, Bucky.

His smile seemed almost out of place given the situation, and you found it impossible to return it. You struggled to sit up, your limbs feeling leaden.

“Of course,” you said, your voice thick with sarcasm. “The last thing I needed was to wake up and see your smug face.”

Bucky’s expression remained impassive. “Careful now. You wouldn’t want to offend the future Vice President.”

“Future Vice President, huh?” you shot back, your irritation flaring. “Is that why you dragged me back here? You need a trophy wife to complete your perfect image?”

“You’re not just a trophy wife,” Bucky said, his tone dripping with condescension. “You’re a crucial part of my public image. A divorce would be a PR disaster.”

“Is that right?” you snapped. “You’re using me as a prop, aren’t you? You couldn’t just leave me alone. Some of us have lives outside your political games.”

“You think this is bad?” Bucky said, frustration seeping into his voice. “Imagine what would happen if the public found out about our separation. It’s all about maintaining appearances.”

“You’re still the same,” you said, your anger flaring.

Bucky’s expression hardened. “Let’s be honest here. You wouldn’t have left if you didn’t think I was using you. But if you think this is a game, you’re wrong. I need you to play along until the election.”

“And if I refuse?” you challenged.

“One year,” Bucky said, his gaze steady. “Until the election is over. Then I’ll give you anything you want. Just play the part of a happy wife until then.”

You knew why he needed you. His political career depended on maintaining a perfect public image. Only a few people were aware of your separation, so you had to pretend to be a happy married couple to avoid public scrutiny.

As you struggled to stand, Bucky stepped forward to help you. His touch was steady but impersonal. Both of you exited the jet, greeted by a throng of press and cameras. The narrative they were fed was clear: the Vice Presidential candidate picking up his sick wife.

With the press closing in, you turned to Bucky and said, “I see you’ve thought this through. Dragging me back here like a prized possession. What’s next? A public appearance where we hold hands and share a tearful reunion?”

Bucky met your gaze with a calm but resolute expression. “It’s not just about appearances. The election is critical, and I need stability. Having you here will help maintain that.”

“You’re the only one I could turn to. I need you,” he said.

The words “I need you” echoed with the same urgency he once used, the very words that had drawn you to him. But now, they felt hollow.

Bucky’s expression remained unchanged. He had no apologies to offer, and the facade of your ‘happy marriage’ had to remain intact.

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[the-offside-rule]

Lando Norris (McLaren) - The Almost Kiss

Requested: yes

Prompt: Lando is out for the season and catches feeling for his replacement

Warnings: nope

Y/n jolted awake to the buzzing of her phone on the bedside table, the sound pulling her out of a deep sleep. Her hand fumbled for it, and when she finally answered, the grogginess was replaced with confusion. "Hello, Y/n." She mumbled. "Y/n, it’s Andrea. You need to come to the McLaren factory. Immediately." Her heart raced. She wasn’t used to getting calls this early in the morning. What could possibly be happening? Y/n was a reserve driver, sure, but there hadn’t been any news of anything happening to the main drivers. "Yeah, I'll get dressed and be in soon."

Half-dressed, still trying to wake up fully, she rushed to the factory, nerves on edge. By the time she arrived, her mind was racing with possibilities. When she stepped inside, the atmosphere felt tense, and she spotted Zak waiting for her. "Y/n." Zak started as soon as she was within earshot. "What's happening?" Y/n asked as Zak put his arm around her to lead her up towards the meeting rooms. "Lando’s out. He’s had an accident, nothing too serious, but enough to sideline him for the rest of the season." Her eyes widened. "Oh my god, how's that happened?" Zak rubbed his forehead. "He was out last night, partying because of his first win, took a fall, broke his tibia. We’ve had it confirmed that he won’t be able to drive for the rest of the season."

Y/n’s heart pounded in her chest. This was it, this was her chance. But the weight of the situation also sank in. Lando was injured, and she was being thrown into one of the biggest opportunities of her career. "We need you to step up." Zak continued, his voice firm but encouraging. "You’ll be taking Lando’s place. Effective immediately." She nodded, adrenaline pumping. This was what she had trained for, but the circumstances made it feel surreal. She was going to be one of McLaren’s main drivers.

The next few days were a whirlwind. Hours in the simulator, endless debriefs, and preparing for her first race as the primary driver. Every evening, Y/n found herself staying late, pushing herself in the simulator, wanting to prove she was ready for the challenge.

One evening, as she was deeply immersed in the simulation, the door to the room creaked open. She glanced up to see Lando standing there in a set of crutches, but a smile on his face. "Aren't you meant to be in a wheelchair for a while?" Y/n asked. "Yeah, but I like walking around on my one leg." He replied. "So you're a cripple then?" Lando laughed as he hobbled over towards the side of the simulator. "Need some help?" He asked casually. Y/n blinked, surprised. "You sure? I know you have to go to rehabilitation training and physio and-" Lando chuckled. "Yeah, well, I’ve got time. And besides, I figured I could help coach you a bit. You know, since I’ve been around for a while." Y/n smiled gratefully. "I’d appreciate that."

For the next few hours, Lando stood in the race engineer box of the simulator, giving tips and feedback, helping her adjust to the intricacies of McLaren’s car. His advice was invaluable, but more than that, it was nice to have him there calm, supportive, and surprisingly humble.

As the weeks passed, they grew closer. Between races and simulator sessions, they began to spend more time together. It started with casual meals in the motorhome, sharing laughs about life on the circuit, and then evenings spent debriefing together. The more time they spent with each other, the more their friendship deepened, and Y/n couldn’t help but notice how easy it was to be around him. It wasn’t long before she found herself in Monaco with him, where he had invited her to move into his place, just to make things easier between races. What had started as a practical arrangement became something much more meaningful. They would cook together, joke around, and occasionally sit in comfortable silence, watching the sunset over the harbor.

One of the first mornings she had spent in her bew apartment, Y/n had barely stirred from her peaceful slumber when a knock echoed through her apartment. She sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. The world outside was only starting to light up as the sun rose over the principality through her blinds. She glanced at her phone. 7:00 AM? Who could that be? Reluctantly, she slid out of bed, tugging a hoodie over her sleep shirt as she padded barefoot toward the door. The knock came again, more insistent this time.

"I'm coming, hold on." She mumbled under her breath, unlocking the door and swinging it open. To her surprise, standing on the other side of the threshold was none other than Lando, looking fresh despite the ungodly hour. He offered her a crooked grin, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his hoodie. "Lando?" She asked in disbelief, her voice still thick with sleep. "How on earth did you get up here?" He gave a nonchalant shrug, his boyish grin widening. "The lift."

"Obviously." She deadpanned, leaning against the doorframe with a raised eyebrow. "But why? And why are you knocking on my door at-" She glanced at her phone again. "7 AM?" Lando shifted on his feet, looking almost sheepish for a moment. "I have a rehab session and I really don't want to go alone. Thought maybe you'd want to tag along?" His eyes met hers with a hopeful glint. Y/n blinked, processing his request. "You came all the way here just to ask me to go to rehab with you?"

"Well, yeah. Plus, I needed a ride." His grin turned cheeky, and she couldn't help but roll her eyes, though the hint of a smile tugged at her lips. "Lando, you have a whole team of people at your disposal. You could’ve called one of them."

"Yeah, but they're not you." He said with a smirk, and something in his casual tone made her heart skip a beat. "So, you coming or what?" He asked. "What's in it for me?" She challenged, letting him in. "A stop at the cafe du Paris if you get me to physio on time." Y/n sighed, shaking her head in amused disbelief. "Alright, alright. Let me get changed. Give me five minutes." Lando slumped down onto her sofa. "You're the best."

She quickly disappeared back into her room, rifling through her drawers for something more appropriate than her pajamas. As she threw on a pair of leggings and a sweatshirt, she couldn't help but smile to herself. Lando showing up out of the blue like this wasn’t exactly unusual—it was one of the things she liked about their friendship. He was spontaneous, always keeping her on her toes. Within minutes, Y/n was ready, grabbing her keys and slipping on a pair of sneakers as she met Lando by the door. He was already scrolling through his phone, humming under his breath.

"Let's go." She said, as Lando turned and hobled out the door. "Jesus, mate. You need to get out of these crutches, it's scaring away all the women." She joked. "Chick's dig this." Labdo replied. "I must be immune, Norris." They headed down the hallway and into the lift, Lando still chatting away about his recent races and how his shoulder injury was making training a nightmare. Y/n listened with a fond smile, appreciating how comfortable their conversations always were. It didn’t matter that it was now half 7 in the morning, and she hadn’t had her coffee yet; being around him always had a way of brightening her day. Once they reached the car, she slid into the driver’s seat, glancing over at him. "You sure you're okay with this?"

"Of course." Lando said, buckling in. "It's just rehab. But I appreciate you coming with me." Y/n nodded as she started the engine, pulling out of the parking garage. The early morning streets were quiet, making the drive peaceful. The two of them fell into easy conversation, and before she knew it, they were pulling up to his physios home. Lando turned to her as they parked. "Thanks for this, really. You didn’t have to."

"I know." She replied with a soft smile. "That's what makes me so nice." He returned her smile, lingering for a moment before unbuckling his seatbelt and stepping out of the car. "Oh, the bestest ever." He replied mockingly.

The teasing,the coffees, it was all just part of this great friendship they had going on. Yet, beneath the surface, there was a growing tension. Unspoken feelings hung in the air between them, but neither dared to address it.

One race weekend, however, everything changed. Y/n had been hit with a penalty that she fiercely believed was unjust. After a heated argument with the stewards, she was slapped with a fine, and her frustration boiled over. Storming out of the stewards’ room, she avoided everyone, ignoring the calls from the press. She wasn’t in the mood to talk, let alone deal with interviews. She locked herself in her driver room, letting the anger simmer as she paced the small space. A knock came at the door.

"I'm not doing press today guys!" She shouted, her voice still edged with anger. There was a pause, and then a familiar voice replied. "It’s me." Her heart skipped a beat. It was Lando. Hesitant, she walked over and unlocked the door. He stepped inside, his expression soft, understanding. "Are you okay?" he asked quietly, closing the door behind him. Y/n huffed, her hands running through her hair. "I just… I can’t believe this. That penalty wasn’t fair, and now I have to deal with a fine on top of it." Lando watched her for a moment, then stepped closer. "I get it. I’ve been there before. But you need to calm down, or it’ll just eat at you."

Y/n turned to him, her frustration still evident, but his presence was oddly comforting. There was a silence between them as they stood close, neither knowing what to say next. The tension from the room seemed to shift, no longer about the race or the penalty. They gazed at each other, the air between them thick with something unspoken. Slowly, they leaned in, the distance between them closing. But just before their lips could meet, there was another knock at the door. Y/n jerked back, startled. "Interviews, Y/n. You need to go." Came the voice from the other side of the door. Her heart racing, Y/n glanced at Lando, her mind spinning. Without another word, she bolted for the door, leaving Lando behind.

As she rushed to the media area, her thoughts were a whirlwind. Was Lando in love with her? Did she feel the same way? She couldn’t stop replaying that almost-kiss in her mind. Meanwhile, Lando stayed back in her room, wondering the exact same thing.

[yeonjuns-beanie]

As It Was

warnings: 18+, weed usage, smut, unprotected sex, soulmate au(kind of), little hatefuckin before real fucking, reader is a brat, mentions of suicide, oral(f receiving, logan is an EATER), claws come out when he…, little bit of primal play, breeding kink, daddy kink, implied age gap cuz i think it’s hot, im prolly gonna write him like an animal, think that’s it!! LOL

Logan Howlett x female!reader

summary: after saving his world from extinction, wade brings home a wolverine. you feel a tether to him but can't quite figure out what it is, but logan does. as the days go by you slowly chip away at the wall between you two and things slowly return to as it was.

word count: 4.5k

title is inspired by the hozier song of the same name....

It’s been three months now and you still couldn’t figure out the pull you felt toward Logan. The moment Wade brought him through the door, Mary Puppins in hand, you felt a tie to him. Now, it was as if the Red String of Fate was punishing you for not remembering your connection with him. It was haunting, aggravating, and pushing you towards sexual frustration because no matter how much you tried to remember, your thoughts would instantly become clouded with your attraction to him. He was brooding, grumpy, and humorous when he wanted to. The stoic exterior of him was just that, a shell. You just weren’t quite sure how to crack his nut yet.

You were sat in the main room of the apartment grinding up some green to pack a morning bowl. As you were getting ready to fill the glass you heard Wade’s voice echo through the apartment.

“You always grind Aunt Mary so hard. Don’t you think she would like to be loved tenderly, sugarbear?”

“And the last time I gave you the grinder there might as well have been a whole nug in the bowl. You damn near burned half my stash.”

“You’d think living with three addicts would be fun, but it’s more like babysitting toddlers fighting to see who can ruin my day first. Spoiler: it’s everyone.”

You chuckled, slotting the bowl into the joint of the bong, and pointed at Wade with it.

“You wanna hit this or not?”

“‘Course I do. How could I pass up a wake n bake with my girl?”

Wade jogged over to you, plopping dramatically on the seat next to you. Rolling your eyes, you took the first hit letting Wade finish off the remaining smoke in the shaft. Exhaling you spoke while the smoke billowed out of your mouth.

“Wade, baby, I love you, but I’m not your girl. What about Nessa?”

Before he spoke, he had his coughing fit like clockwork. Every time, no matter the method, resulted in a cough so bad he looked like a drooling dog. It was free entertainment but you tried your hardest not to laugh out loud because every time you did, it made it worse.

You couldn’t hold it

It was like watching a court jester and when Wade finally caught his breath he was staring off at a wall in the apartment mindlessly reaching for the glass. When his hand was left fondling the air reaching nothing, you let your laugh echo through the apartment.

“You sure you want another one?”

“Just gimme the weed, gorgeous. And to answer your question. Vanessa and I are on a break of sorts, but I’m wounded that I now have lost you too. It’s cause I brought Peanut here isn’t it?”

Wade was feigning heartbreak, just busting your balls in an effort to see if you’d crack. Your relationship was always like this and that was probably why you two got along so well. Nothing was ever too serious and yet still completely vulnerable. As wild as he was, Wade was a safe space for you and for some reason this morning, you felt like sharing.

“Perhaps.”

His head whipped so fast you thought it’d fly off. Coupled with his dramatic gasp and chest grab you nearly regretted your admission.

“I knew it!”

“Will you keep it down, it’s not that serious.”

“Au contraire. This is probably the most serious thing since Blind Al ran out of Peruvian marching powder.”

Rolling your eyes, you swallowed your pride as you knew Wade wouldn’t let it go until you told him every detail possible. As much as you pretended you hated divulging this information, it was kinda nice to let out to somebody. You’d been wrestling with so many feelings since Wade brought Logan to stay with you guys and the weight of it was becoming painful.

“Well, he’s hot obviously.”

“Tell me something more interesting, we all disrespectfully gawk at the honey badger.” Wade quipped.

“The problem is I feel this weird attachment to him. Like I’ve known him before. Maybe we met before they tried their best to wipe my memory, but I can’t shake this one. I’m drawn to him but he won’t let anyone get close enough to figure that out.”

You had your own run-in with the TVA a few years ago and instead of dumping you into the void, they were nice enough to plop you in Earth-10005. You were grateful considering the stories of this barren garbage heap that Wade and Logan told you about but you couldn’t remember why they sent you here in the first place.

You had no real memory of your life before this or what you did that fucked you up so badly. It always haunted you. Maybe you were a murderer. A merciless killer and that’s why they snagged you. A similar fate to Wade’s but they decided somewhere that you weren’t equipped for the job and the TVA orphaned you to another universe.

You weren’t complaining, you loved the life that you had now you just wanted to remember the rest of you. You were roaming this universe, a husk of your former self and no matter how much you tried to convince yourself that it didn’t bother you, it did. It kept you up at night. Until Logan walked through the apartment door.

Slowly, things started to reveal themselves to you but only in a dream. You were forced to piece together your life with the shattered fragments of what your dreamscape gave you to work with. You’d wake up from the most vivid dreams only to remember one instance where you were walking down a street, the sky pouring rain in a godly attempt to cleanse you. Your hands were always coated in crimson when you looked down.

It’d come in flashes and it’d end just as fast. You were patient with yourself but a lot of times you tried to drown out the feeling with various substances. Weed being your vice of choice as alcohol made you suffer. Making you wish that an attempt of self-mutilation or the bittersweet release of dancing with death while your wrists stained the floor garnet succeeded.

They never did.

So you tried your best to make peace with your life and you were doing alright until Logan showed up. Now the universe was mocking you. Testing to see if you’d slip up and forget everything you learned.

“I think he’d like to figure you out, y/n. Do with that what you will.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Wade shrugged his shoulders handing you the bong back. As he stood up you took one last hit and left the glass piece on the table. As you exhaled, Logan’s voice pierced through the silence.

“Jesus. D’ya have to stink up the apartment with that shit? Can’t go outside?”

“Easy, peanut. The art of the wake n bake is sacred. Plus, talk to the gardener if you have requests to make, not me.”

Wade pointed to you as he wandered off into the kitchen and you reached for the bong motioning it to Logan.

“Wanna hit?”

Logan hit you with a short ‘no’ and it almost hurt your feelings. Your gaze flicked over to Wade who was mouthing to you something you couldn’t quite make out but he was pointing to Logan while doing it. Your brain spazzed for a moment before coming up with a response as you stood.

“You want coffee or something, Lo?”

“Sure, kid.”

You walked into the kitchen with Wade and started whispering to him.

“What the fuck? Of course, he comes out while I’m blowing up the house.”

“I don’t see why you’re worried, he doesn’t seem upset.”

You turned around trying your best not to look suspicious.

“Yes, the fuck he does. I’m gonna fuck this up before I even get the chance to start-”

“-You two morons know I can hear you, right?”

You hung your head in defeat finishing up the two cups before setting one in front of Logan and holding yours while you stood. The air was thick, but not uncomfortable. It just felt like everyone needed to get something off their chest and didn’t know how to start. Before you opened your mouth to speak, Wade’s voice cut you off while he sent a text message.

“Well, I’m gonna leave you lovebirds to it. I’ve got a pegging date.”

Again. Mocking you. The universe seemed to just have it out for you and apparently, today was the day of honesty. You took a seat across from Logan wondering where to direct the conversation.

“You hungry? I can make us something.”

“I’m alright kid, not too keen on stoner food in the morning.”

“Hey, I’m still a good cook when I’m cooked. I just wanted to offer.” You paused.

“Also if you have a problem with it, I’ll find a new spot. I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable.”

“No need. Just giving you guys a hard time. We all have something to cope with our shit.”

You nodded knowing he was referencing his drinking habit, or problem if we were feeling honest. You left your coffee cup on the table and stood up, wanting to Irish goodbye in your own home. But you didn’t want to add any more bricks to this wall even though it felt like the silence was already doing so.

“Well, um. I’m gonna chill out for a bit in my room if you need anything.”

He hummed to let you know he heard you and you walked down the hallway to your bedroom before stopping in your tracks. Something possessed you and you had to get this out. The test was walking away and if you finished that journey into your bedroom and locked the door, nothing would be resolved. Turning on your heel, you walked back into the kitchen and faced Logan.

“Why do you hate me?”

He nearly choked on his coffee, the noise echoing in the cup.

“What?”

You sighed, trying to not feel silly about your admission.

“Why do you hate me? And if you don’t, why do you act like it? It’s so hard to get through to you and it feels like I’m talking to a fucking wall.”

“Kid-”

“And stop ‘kid’ing me! If it’s out of endearment it doesn’t feel like it.”

Your heart rate was rising and you could feel your skin getting hot. The months of pent up emotions were finally boiling over and you couldn’t stop it. You needed to know why.

“What is it then, y/n?”

“Why can’t I get through to you? Every time I try, you shut me down by being curt with me and I’m left with the same feeling as before. I can’t shake this feeling that I know you and I can’t even get close to you without you shoving me away like I have a fatal disease. So why, Logan? All I wanna know is why?”

He sighed knowing there was no easy way to escape this.

“Kid–sorry. It’s complicated. I know that feeling. I feel it too, but I know why it’s there and I don’t want to fuck it up again.”

Again?

“What do you mean again?”

Logan sighed and said nothing. Hanging his head in what you thought was shame but most definitely could be avoidance. It frustrated you even more so because why couldn’t he just talk to you?

“Here we go again, nothing?! Is it so hard to just say what this is?”

“It’s not that simple, bub.”

You scoffed and turned around to walk to your room. You needed to clear your head because it was more than apparent that a solution would not be provided for you. Logan didn’t have the courage to reveal what he knew so a walk away from him would have to suffice.

“Y/n! Where are you going?”

“I need to clear my head since obviously you don’t have the gall to tell me what the fuck is going on.”

Slipping your shoes on, you tried to move past Logan but he was blocking the doorway.

“Move.”

“Y/n. Just-”

“I said move, Logan.”

One wall after another you kept hitting, except this one was physically him. He nearly filled up the doorway and his frame was imposing. You tried to figure out how you’d slip past him but you were so heated that you were about to settle for dramatics before he moved his body just enough for you to slip past. You stared at him, looking for something in his eyes to tell you to stay but it just made you more irritated. You walked down the hallway and almost made it to the door before you felt his hand wrap around your wrist.

“Do you get a kick out of torturing me or something?”

“Sweetheart, if you just—just sit down and let me say what I need to say.”

“Oh, now you wanna fucking talk. Let go of me. I’m not in the mood to talk anymore.”

Logan’s grip on you tightened as you struggled against him and you pushed on his chest trying to get him off of you. He was stunned by your actions and so were you but you couldn’t stop. You kept pushing him away from you until he grabbed your upper arms stabilizing you but you still were pressing your hands against his chest. He was calling your name trying to calm you down but you were too lost in your emotions. You thrashed your head up, trying to plead with him silently to let you go even though you knew that was the last thing you wanted.

When your eyes met his, one of his hands cradled the back of your head and before you could register it, his lips were slotted against yours in a moment of desire and exasperation. Bated breath, fury, and sexual confusion fueled the kiss but you’d be a liar to say you didn’t enjoy this feeling. His body flesh against yours, the heat bouncing between the two of you nearly suffocating and it had only been seconds. Logan had you pressed against the wall his hands roaming the curves of your body and his knee slotted itself in between your thighs, completely caging you against him.

He pushed his knee up into the apex of your thighs applying a delicate pressure to your center. You moaned against him, your body rolling your hips into the feeling. His hands were roaming over your body in a frenzy, like if he didn’t touch you fast enough you’d disappear. Your hands wrapped into his hair, pulling on his sandy brown locks as you tried to stabilize yourself into the feeling.

Logan pulled away from you, a string of spit the only thing left connecting you two until it broke and you felt the cold air vaporize the heat on your swollen lips. You were staring at his features, locked in his gaze hoping that if you didn’t break eye contact he’d stay right here. His gruff voice broke the heady silence.

“Since you wanna be a brat and not talk anymore, I have no choice but to show you how I feel, sugar.”

Logan slid his hands down until they were underneath the swell of your ass and told you to jump. As your legs wrapped around his waist, he walked down the hallway to your room. His senses were incredibly heightened at this moment and when he breached the threshold of your room, he was intoxicated by the smell of you swirling the room.

As he laid you down on your bed, your scent wafted off of the sheets with a gentle breeze and he was soon surrounded by a nest of you and your arousal. He prowled over your body, taking you in and memorizing every inch of you, how you were restless against him, and how your lower half mindlessly moved against him in desperate need of some sort of friction.

He uttered a low growl against you as he snaked up to your neck leaving a string of hot kisses against your skin. The scruff of his beard nearly overstimulated you and had you clawing at his skin, frantic in your efforts, soft moans escaped your lips in wordless need of feeling something more.

“Don’t wanna talk but I got you whimpering for me, huh princess?”

“Lo-”

“Shh, baby. I got you.”

Logan bit your ear, pulling at the skin before he tugged at the bottom of your shirt and you lifted your back just enough so that he could slip it off of you. Your upper body was fully exposed to him as your tits pancaked on your chest. As he lowered his face back down to your body, he trailed down your skin with his nose inhaling every last inch of you. The action was so subdued in comparison to the rest of his demeanor that you got completely lost in the feeling.

As his face met your stomach, the scent of your arousal was incredibly inebriating, deluging his mind with salacity. He traced the waistband of your shorts with his nose, encasing his teeth around the elastic piece of fabric before replacing his mouth with his hands as he languidly pulled them down your legs. Tossing them across the room he looked up at you.

“You want this?”

“Please.” You mewled out.

Logan shoved his nose against your panties inhaling your scent before rubbing your bud through the fabric as he came back up your body to capture your lips in a searing kiss. He pulled your panties from your body, your slick stretching as the fabric left your messy lips. The cool air was welcomed but was soon replaced by the warmth of Logan’s mouth against your petals.

He lapped at you like a dog. A wanton primal need taking over his senses. He wanted to be enveloped in you and you in him. In every timeline, he’d claim you and this one was no different. You tangled your hands in his hair, rolling your pussy into his face as he sloppily ate you out. His hands were wrapped around your hips holding you in place as he greedily drank you in.

You could feel the spit dripping down your folds and forming a cool pool of fervour beneath your skin. Eyes rolling back in ecstasy you could feel your orgasm begin to settle in your lower stomach, heat rippling across your skin. Your moans increased in frequency but became more breathy in nature as you came closer to your high.

Logan’s hand snaked up your curves and his fingers teased your nipples, pulling and pinching at the sensitive skin as he felt your body grow more tense with desire. Dragging his calloused hands down your body one last time, he inserted a finger into your wet, libertine cavern and you sucked him in with need. The stretch of him adding a second finger pushing you right to your edge as he curled them inside of you.

“Lo- I’m gonna-”

“I know, sugar. Let it out. Lemme hear you”

He immediately put his tongue back on your clit, and let you ride out your high against his face. Your moans gained volume completely immersed in the pleasure. When the ripples of euphoria finally dwindled, you looked down at Logan and pulled him up to your face so you could kiss him. The tang of your sex was still present on his lips and it ignited something within you.

“You got too many fuckin clothes on, Daddy.”

You were breathless. Lost in a licentious rhapsody as you had him hovering over your body and when Logan paused his movements to look at you, you thought you ruined the moment. He could smell the change in you and spoke before you had the chance to apologize for nothing.

“Say it again.”

He could feel you heartbeat pounding in your chest, arousal returning to the forefront of your mind.

“Wanna see you. Feel all of you, Daddy.”

Your voice was dripping sex, his personal psychedelic. He freed himself from his beater and you palmed his bulge through his sweats. Slipping your hand past the waistband, you stroked his heavy cock.

“Lemme make you feel good.”

You were getting ready to flip your bodies over, but Logan pinned you to the bed his eyes boring through you. You felt so small underneath him, like he could do whatever he wanted to you and you’d let him. When he spoke he broke you from the trance.

“Another time, sweetheart. This is about showing you how I feel about you since my baby needs me to spell it out for her.”

Slipping out of his sweats his cock was on full display, so heavy that it didn’t have the spring to bounce against his stomach. It hung in front of him, heady and in desperate need to be inside of you. Precum and prurience leaked from his tip. Logan crawled on top of you, the tip of his cock rubbing between your folds, coating your slick across his shaft.

“Tell me what you want. Tell me how you want me to fuck you.”

You squeezed around nothing, the action not going unnoticed by Logan. You mewled against him, just wanting him to ravish you in every way possible. You wanted to be marked, for everyone to see that you belonged to him but you couldn’t find the words to articulate this feeling while this sexual heat was radiating off of your bodies and numbing your mind.

Logan slowly pushed his tip into your rapt cunt before pulling it out and sliding it against your clit. The withdrawal of pleasure bringing you to your senses.

“I want you to make me yours. Wanna belong to you, Lo.”

You were wanton with need. The desire for him became nearly unbearable and it was all soon resolved as he pushed his cock past your pious walls, defiling you of any innocence you had left. You wanted to be claimed, he’d claim you. Animal instinct took over as he rocked his hips into your cunt, your walls fluttering around him in ardor. Low growls left his throat as he nipped at the skin on your neck, alternating between kissing the marks and swiping them with his tongue. He was marking you, making you his own.

It was like he couldn’t get close enough to you as he thrusted into you. His arms wrapped around your body as you fell limp to the pleasure. You felt another orgasm on the horizon and you tried your best to warn Logan by sinking your nails into his back, leaving red trails of morbid desire to mark him as yours. You didn’t realize the amount of pressure you were putting on his skin, but the groans that left him had that concern pushed to the back of your mind. Your orgasm washed over you and your pussy squeezed so tight around him that you nearly pushed him out of you. You were entranced, drunk on him and his cock, still desperate for more.

It was like he could hear your thoughts because as soon as you thought of a second round, Logan was flipping you on your hands and knees and you arched your back as he rubbed his hand along the small of it, accentuating your arch. His cock filled your sugared walls one more time and as he buried himself to the hilt. Wrapping a hand around your neck, he brought your body flesh against his.

“Gonna fuckin breed you. Never gonna forget you who belong to, sweetheart.”

You couldn’t help the preemptive squeezing of his cock at the mention of him breeding you. The thought of him filling you with all of him was grossly erotic and Logan took the chance to taunt you.

“Oh? You like that, huh? Want daddy to breed your pretty little pussy?”

You hummed, your eyes lidded as you tried to see him over your shoulder. Sweat was sticking your bodies together and you only noticed how hot it was between the two of you when he pushed your body forward, cool air hitting your back as he began to mold your cunt to the shape of his cock. His tip was kissing your cervix and repeatedly hit that spot deep inside of you that made you squirm against his body.

His thrusts were becoming sloppy, his breaths ragged and you could feel your third orgasm of the night creeping on you. Low growls complimented the whimpers that were leaving your mouth and being somewhat muffled by the fabric of your sheets. You couldn’t hold his hips against you to ensure that he stayed inside so you just whimpered out a small ‘inside’ as you felt your orgasm begin to wash over your body.

Logan wasn’t far behind, one hand resting on your hips and his other by your head steadying himself above you. Sinking his teeth into your neck, you cried out in avidity and rapture filled his veins before painting his seed across your walls. You heard a faint schwing and as you opened your eyes, you saw that his claws were extended. As you moved your hips back into him to fuck you through the rest of your high, you accidentally nicked yourself on one of his blades. He hissed against you uttering a strained ‘don’t move’ as the luxuria dissipated in his body.

As he calmed down, his claws retracted back into skin and he gently rolled you over to gaze over your features. He moved a few sweat-stricken pieces of hair off of your face and placed a gentle kiss on your lips, which was such a contrast from before. Pulling out of you he pushed himself off the bed.

“Be right back.”

Returning with a warm towel, he cleaned you up and grabbed a shirt from one of your drawers waiting for you to put it in before sliding next to you in the bed. You curled into him, tracing patterns into his chest. Looking up at him, you felt none of the tension from before in the room and you decided that this would be the time.

“So, what did you mean by ‘again’ earlier?”

Logan sighed but not out of exasperation like it was earlier, it was softer this time.

“In my world, we were together. That’s the pull you feel. But in like so many other areas in that timeline, I fucked up and I lost you. I’d rather have kept you at a distance than not have you at all, but I fucked that up too, now.”

He laughed the last bit out, a touch of humor apparent in his delivery. Sighing, you felt like something could work here between the two of you.

“Well, whenever you’re ready to tell me what happened between your timeline’s me and you, I’ll wait patiently for it. But until then, know that you’re not losing me here. I’m yours as long as you want me.”

You didn’t expect a response from him, nor did you feel like you really needed one. You wanted to relish in this moment between the two of you and soon enough sleep overtook both of your forms.

© yeonjuns-beanie '24

~Just as it was, baby Before the otherness came And I knew its name The love, the dark, the light, the flame~

[notjustjavierpena]

Parents

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: Merry belated Christmas from me! I know this is my second Christmas fic this time around but I finally got the courage to write about Wife’s awful parents. 

Summary: Javier puts his foot down during Christmas with your toxic family. 

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader/you (no y/n)

Tags: Toxic family dynamics, psychological abuse, childhood trauma, Christmas, conflict and confrontation, sobbing, declarations of love, hurt/comfort, body/fat shaming

Word count: 5.7k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/61942318

Parents

You get a call from your parents’ home number a few weeks before Christmas. Your mother and father haven't actually bothered seeing you since your wedding day last year but Lucas is four months old now and there’s suddenly a strange interest from them in being grandparents to your firstborn. Somehow, they talk you into spending Christmas with them and reassure you that they’ll take care of everything as long as you bring their grandson. The whole idea causes a ball of anxiety to settle in your stomach, almost imitating getting hit right in the solar plexus with how much your breath struggles to even out as you tell Javier about it. Your husband agrees reluctantly but not without raising a concerned brow, asking you several times - and with days between each time - if you are absolutely sure. 

He even asks you now as he parks the car in your parents’ driveway, looking at you with a serious expression, brows furrowed while you sit stiffly in the passenger seat. You glance towards the front door, trying to act casual as if you’re staring at a wild animal who might pounce if it notices your anxiety. It is an odd feeling you get, staring at your childhood home but feeling more as if it is the scene of a crime. This house is not a memory of warm and fuzzy feelings but rather a place of constant criticism and unjust pain. 

Javier says your name softly beside you. On the backseat, Lucas hiccups.

“Do I look okay?” You quickly ask instead of acknowledging the tone of his voice, fixing your hair without changing anything. 

“Yeah,” he answers and tries not to comment on your nerves, “You look beautiful, mi amor (my love).”

The call from two weeks ago had your shoulders tensing up before you even answered the phone but the way they had reasoned you into revisiting the place of your hardest years has made your shoulders not come down again. 

You sigh gently and unbuckle your seatbelt, “Okay. I can do this for just an afternoon. Let’s get this over with.”

You climb out of the car, Javier following you after carefully unbuckling Lucas and cradling him in one arm while balancing the diaper bag on the other shoulder. You leave his car seat, knowing how much easier it would have been to transport your son inside in it but Lucas has been fussy all night. You really wish he hadn’t because you don’t want to go inside with only half the energy that a good night’s sleep could have provided. 

As you ring the doorbell, you take a look at Javier one last time, “Please don’t interfere. I don’t want to make everyone uncomfortable.”

“Baby, are you sure that—“

“Oh, there you are!” Your mother exclaims when she opens the door with a syrupy smile, “We were starting to wonder if you’d gotten lost.”

“Sorry. Life with a baby and all,” you shake your head with an embarrassed chuckle and try to ignore the tension in your muscles, shrugging your coat off your shoulders to reveal your wine-red button-up and dark skirt. 

“Honey, I thought you knew we always dress up a little during the Holidays,” your mother says while glancing at your outfit with veiled disdain, “Where’s that nice blue dress? With the ribbons?”

“This is all that fits me right now, that isn’t maternity clothes,” you answer apologetically at the first jab of many. Beside you, Javier takes a step closer to you without saying anything. 

“Anyway! Where’s the little man?” Your mother chirps, already having moved on and looking to Lucas who has started stirring in Javier’s arms. When she gets closer, about to reach out to run a hand over his little head, Lucas immediately starts whimpering as if he is aware of the unpleasantries that his mother has had to endure at the mercy of this woman. He knows the culprits before they’ve even revealed themselves. 

“Oh, he’s a little fussy, isn’t he?” She laughs it off and retreats much to your relief, letting Javier bounce your son to make him settle down again. When he quietens down again, you share a glance with your husband who signals that everything is okay. You take a deep breath and let him handle the situation. 

“Where’s Dad?” You ask to turn your attention away from your crying child, smoothing out a nonexistent crease in your skirt. 

“I think he’s just about to get the turkey out of the oven,” your mother says, wagging a finger in Lucas’ face with a little smile, “Why don’t you go say hi and I talk to my grandson for a moment? Oh, look at you, Lucas! You’re just perfect, aren’t you?”

You reluctantly leave the three of them to head for the kitchen. You can feel each family photograph staring back at you as you walk through the hallway to your destination; a picture of your five-year-old self on a bike but somehow no picture of your graduation ceremony as if it has been decided where things went wrong before you could acknowledge it yourself. 

“Hey Dad, smells so good in here,” the kitchen does indeed smell wonderfully as you walk through the door. Your father looks at you over his shoulder, giving you a little smile and you try not to think about how he didn’t bother to come out to greet you. 

“Mom and I were wondering if you were ever coming,” he notes while plating pieces of turkey meat. In the hallway, you can hear Javier striking up polite conversation. He’s handling your mother with his usual calmness, and you feel grateful for his presence yet embarrassed that you aren’t strong enough to handle it yourself.

You shrug a little, Javier’s presence giving you the courage to try and mirror said calmness, “Newborns, you know.”

“He’s four months,” he corrects. 

“Right, time flies,” you reply with your confidence fading fast, the words coming out in a way that doesn’t quite carry the quick wit that Javier usually loves about you. You touch your arm, standing awkwardly by the counter, “Still figuring it out as we go.”

Your father doesn’t turn around, “Parenting’s not rocket science, you know. Your mother and I managed just fine without all the made-up nonsense you young people talk about these days.”

You jump a little as your mother puts a hand on your shoulder and says your name to get your attention. You look back at her, “Can you set the table? I put the tablecloth ready on the silverware cabinet.”

“Sure, Mom,” you smile, already heading for the dining room to escape from your father’s subtle judgments. You find Javier has already gone, an irrational thought popping into your head of how he has bolted and left you to deal with your mom and dad by yourself. 

You glance into the kitchen as you start placing the plates in each of their respective places, “Where’s Javier?”

“He went to get the presents from the car,” your mother replies from the kitchen. You hear her take out a serving bowl from a cabinet. 

“Oh, I should go help him wi—“ 

“He’s your husband, sweetie. Let him handle it. There’s no need to emasculate him like that,” she is suddenly in the doorway, staring you down in a way that makes your hands shake. Her gaze drops to the table and her brows furrow, “You’re using the wrong plates!”

You look up with a racing heartbeat, “What?”

She sighs your name audibly, “These aren’t the Christmas plates. We don’t use regular plates for special occasions. Honestly, I thought you’d know better.”

The words sting and you set down the plates you have been holding in case the littlest twitch will make you drop it onto the floor, “Sorry, Mom.” 

“Ah well, now you’ll never forget it,” she jokes without humor in her voice as she opens the door to the china cabinet, pulling out the plates adorned with what you recognize to be hand-painted holly. You shamefully realize you know them from childhood Christmases and that they are exactly where they’ve always been. 

Automatically, you gather the wrong plates to make room for the right ones. It’s Christmas, you remind yourself as you do it. It is one day. You can survive one day. 

“See? Isn’t this much better?” She says cheerfully when your mistake has been corrected and while you nod, Javier reenters the house. 

He joins the two of you, carrying a large gift bag in one hand and holding Lucas on the other arm. You immediately go to take him, doing a careful transfer until you can lay his tiny body against your shoulder while supporting his bottom. 

“¿Todo bien? (Everything okay?)” Javier asks quietly when you follow him into the living room where the tree stands. He sets down the bag and tries to act casual, laying out the gifts and waiting for your honest response in the meantime. Apparently, you haven’t been as successful in hiding the distress on your face as you thought you had. 

You force a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes and Lucas starts whining again. You bounce him gently, “It’s nothing. Just… Christmas stuff.”

Javier glances toward the hallway to the kitchen where your parents’ voices can be heard faintly over the sounds of cooking. His jaw tightens slightly and his mouth becomes a thin line. 

“Don’t,” you say as firmly as you can muster because you wish he would, “It’ll only make it worse.”

“Dame un beso (give me a kiss),” he says instead, and you shyly lean in to peck him on the lips. Afterward, he pulls back but only after stroking Lucas’ back, “You’re both doing great, okay? Don’t let them get in your head.”

You are interrupted by your mother’s voice ringing out from the dining room, telling you that dinner is ready. Javier kisses you one last time before reassuring you that everything will be okay and that he is in your corner. You try to smile, tense as you take a seat with Lucas still in your arms. 

The Christmas meal begins with polite conversation, your father asking Javier about work and your mother telling you about neighbors that you haven’t spoken to in years. You mostly just speak when spoken to, having decided to focus on your baby as he keeps wriggling in your arms in discomfort. You try to rub his belly, try to make him settle by giving him your attention but still, his tiny face crumbles and he lets out a string of small complaints. 

“Maybe we could open presents while he naps?” You suggest hesitantly when your mother has given you enough judgemental advice, “He’s been so fussy all night, and I don’t want him to get more overwhelmed than he—”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” your mother says your name with a sigh. You hear Javier’s chair scrape against the floor, almost as if he is about to get up and get ready for a physical altercation.

“Let’s do whatever is easiest for the baby,” your father interrupts, placing a hand on your mother’s wrist. Her annoyance shines through her eyes but she nods with a smile nonetheless. 

“Of course,” you hear her grit out, “It’s just… We’d love to spend time with him. We’ve already missed so much, and Luke needs his grandparents.”

“We’ll see,” Javier answers for you. 

The dinner continues in mostly silence with turkey being substituted by pie, cutlery clinking against plates, and glasses being lifted and set down again. There’s tension so thick that it can be cut with a knife, your mother glancing at Lucas with a smile before it disappears from her face when she shifts her gaze to your direction.  

Mercilessly, she finally speaks, “So, honey, have you thought about when you’ll start losing the baby weight?”

“Mom!” You exclaim in shock, surprised that sound comes out when your throat feels like it is about to close up completely.

In the same manner as one would spit out a drink in shock, Javier’s fork scrapes unpleasantly against his plate, and suddenly, your mother’s name falls from his lips like the sound itself leaves him with a bad taste in his mouth. She looks startled by the interruption, almost like a deer in the headlights of a car, but it doesn’t faze your husband, “My wife looks beautiful and she has just given me - us - the greatest gift which is our son. Let’s not diminish that, shall we?”

You try to feel the weight of Lucas against your chest instead of how you don’t feel safe within this house, with its bruises on the walls and its ghosts of a youth spent walking on eggshells. Lucas’ body is warm, a reminder that this doesn’t matter. He matters. 

“I’m focused on taking care of my son right now, Mom,” you reply coolly with your lips resting on the soft hairs on Lucas’ head. 

“Right, of course. I didn’t mean anything by it,” your mother argues, clearly flustered, “You know how important it is to stay healthy for the baby.”

“Your mother just wants what’s best for you, honey,” your father intervenes, trying to steer the conversation onto friendlier and safer topics but she has already gotten up from her seat. 

“Why don’t I clear the table so we can move into the living room and open presents?” She mumbles, putting on a show by letting her voice waver. She has begun stacking plates before anyone can even say anything, practically fleeing the room and leaving you all looking slightly sheepish. Javier hides the roll of his eyes exceptionally well and he smiles when you catch him.

“I’ll put Lucas down for a nap,” you announce to what is left of the party.

Javier gets up alongside you to help you. He walks upstairs right behind you, a calming presence with the diaper bag in hand as you head for the guest room.

When you close the door behind the three of you, the tension seeps out of your body at having a quiet moment with your boys. The lighting in the room is soft and calming, almost making you want to lie down to nap with your son. 

“There we go,” you say as you gently place Lucas on the bed while Javier rummages through the bag for his pacifier. Lucas blinks up at you, his tiny fists balled and his chubby legs kicking excitedly. He lets out a happy gurgle.

“Oh, now you’re happy,” you tease softly and kneel by the bed to rub his tummy, “Picky with who we’re smiling at, are we?” 

Javier joins you by the bed and offers Lucas his pacifier. Your son stretches his arms and reaches for his father, letting out a high-pitched giggle around the pacifier. However, as he suckles gently, accompanied by your soft touch that has now moved to his chubby cheeks too, his eyelids start to grow heavy. 

When his breaths have slowed, you do whatever you can with the pillows to create a safe space for him to sleep. You create a barrier around him, ensuring as well as possible that he won’t roll over. 

“You know, you’d think that they would have set up a crib for him if they’re so desperate to see him,” you murmur bitterly as you adjust the last pillow.

“You sure you want to go back down there?” Javier asks carefully. 

“Can you grab the baby monitor?” You ignore his question at first but Javier is already handing you the monitor, ruining your attempt at not addressing the situation further. You sigh and get up from the floor, “I can get through it. If it’ll make them stop pestering me for a visit for a while.”

“I swear, one more word out of her mouth and I’ll open my own,” Javier says with anger simmering just beneath the surface. He drags you into his arms when you stand up again, hears your sigh of relief at being squeezed. It calms your nervous system so effectively that you slump. 

“Believe me, I feel like I am going insane,” you whisper into his neck and shoulder, grabbing aimlessly at his strong frame and inhaling his scent. He returns the desperate touch by simply rubbing your back in slow circles. 

“Yeah, I don’t know how you stay so calm,” he kisses your temple a few times. 

“Trust me, humans can endure a lot when they know there’s a time limit,” you chuckle humorlessly and pull away, “Let’s just do the gift exchange and leave.”

Downstairs, your parents are waiting for you by the tree. The collection of presents is sparse this year due to the short notice but you find it relieving to know that the gift exchange will be over quickly. 

Placing the baby monitor on the coffee table, you sit down on the sofa but don’t allow yourself to relax into it. Javier drops down beside you but leans back into his seat, his hand resting casually on your thigh to ground you. 

“Let’s get to the gifts. It’ll be nice to end this day on a happy note,” your mother says overly cheerfully, pretending to have forgiven and forgotten all about the situation earlier. She reaches for the first gift under the tree while your father stands ready with a bag for the wrapping paper. 

“That’s mine,” Javier tells her with a little smirk in your direction. He holds out his hand until she gives it to him, “To my beautiful wife. Merry Christmas, baby.”

“How thoughtful,” your mother mumbles and sits on the edge of her armchair. 

“Javi, I thought we weren’t on gifts this year,” you scold playfully but there’s no seriousness to your voice. You finally smile and this time it is genuine, feeling his gaze on you while you impatiently rip the wrapping. 

“I know what I said but I know you’ll love it. It’s more for Lucas anyway,” he informs you shyly. 

Inside, you find two pairs of identical fuzzy and comfortable socks with a dinosaur print on them. However, one pair fits Lucas’ tiny feet and the other fits yours. Your whole demeanor changes with the sight of your gift, your face lighting up with a bright smile, “These are so cute!”

“For your cold feet. Thought you could use something cozy while you take care of Luke at home,” he moves his hand to rest just above the small of your back, his palm smoothing over you on top of the fabric of your blouse. 

Your parents sit idly by. They stare at the gift with confusion and arrogance, clearly holding their tongue over how ridiculous they find it. Your mother picks at her fingers, “Interesting.”

“Interesting? Aren’t they adorable?” You hold the matching socks up happily, not sure what to expect but not even your mother’s judgmental expression can bring you down right now. To really rub it in, you kiss Javier’s mouth gently in front of them, “Gracias, esposo (Thank you, husband).”

But the happiness is short-lived as your father goes to get the next present from the small pile. He searches for a moment amongst the few there are, deliberately seeking out the present that you have brought them, most likely to be able to leave the room soon due to the obvious tension. He has never been one to intervene. 

“You shouldn’t have,” your mother tuts with a small smile as she carefully unwraps it in her lap, her fingers doing everything they can to not tear the paper so she can reuse it. 

When the framed picture of Lucas is revealed - a photo taken during an afternoon when he was particularly happy and smiling - her smile develops into a slightly wider one even if it looks against her will. She studies the picture with your father looking over her shoulder. 

“We thought you’d like something to remember him by,” you encourage her to say something. 

Your mother places the photo on the coffee table, her hands smoothing out the wrapping paper while she talks, “It’s lovely, sweetie. Though I’m sure we’d have more memories if we got to see him more often.”

You tense up beside Javier. Out of the corner of your eye, you see him do the same but he squeezes your hip to tell you that he is right there. Anxiously, you curl your fingers into your skirt but your mother isn’t finished.

“I just don’t understand why you’ve been so distant,” she continues, cold in her tone. “You hardly call, which would be fine but you visit even less than that, and now you’re letting Lucas sleep through his first Christmas. It’s not like you’ve gone back to work, so what is it?”

“Mom, please,” you say quietly but it doesn’t veil the wavering of your words, “I’m doing the best I can.”

“Are you?” She challenges, “Lucas has been fussing all night, hasn’t he? Maybe he’s picking up on your stress.”

You hear Javier say your mother’s name as he had during dinner, low and with warning. At the same moment, the baby monitor crackles with the sound of Lucas’ tiny complaints. The sound pulls you from your seat, your instincts to go to him overriding your desire to defend yourself from further abuse. However, your mother’s voice rings out behind you just as you take your first step.

She rolls her eyes, “Oh, just let him cry a little. You’ll make him clingy if you keep running to him every time he whimpers.”

You stop in your tracks, finally turning around to look her in the eye with your own eyes narrowed. You can see Javier watching you closely while you talk, “Mom, if he cries, he needs me.”

According to you, she has already gone too far but it seems that she cannot stop once she has started, “You know, you really should stop babying him so much. He needs to learn to self-soothe.”

Tears of frustration start to build in your chest and you can feel the muscles of your throat start to tighten as they rise to your eyes, “Jesus Christ, Mom, I’m not going to stop babying my baby.”

Her final blow comes out with a deliberate intention to hurt you, “There you go overthinking again and snapping at your mother. He is whimpering. Honestly, sometimes I wonder how Javier puts up with it. You can be such a bitch when you’re stressed.”

The room falls dead silent and the first tear escapes your eye at the cruel nickname… then a second and then a third until you start to cry silently and hopelessly. You suddenly feel like a teenager again, suffering from forced proximity. Your father opens his mouth but nothing comes out, seemingly not able to figure out how to defend his wife for once. It is the final straw for Javier.

“What did you just say?” He firmly cuts through the silence. He has gotten up from his seat and has stepped in front of you to shield you protectively from your mother’s line of sight. His nostrils flare with anger that might explode into rage at any moment but he keeps his voice steady, “You better not have said what I think you did or I am wondering why you haven’t apologized already.”

Your mother’s eyes widen at the idea of consequences. She splutters, caught off guard, “Apologize? Javier, don’t be ridiculous! I’m her mother—“

Javier laughs dangerously and condescendingly and looks away with a roll of his eyes. He shakes his head, not afraid to let the room know that he thinks she sounds pathetic without even calling her out on it. He crosses his arms over his chest, “You got a hell of a way of showing motherly love then; all you have done is tear her down today.”

“Javier,” your father tries to interject, “Let’s not make this into a scene.”

“No,” Javier turns to him, his jaw muscles flexing slightly underneath his skin with how much anger is flowing through him. The simple word makes your father sit up straighter than before - a testament to Javier’s days in Colombia - but Javier is not done, “You don’t get to lecture me about making a scene. Not after sitting there and letting this happen. She is your daughter.”

When your father has shut his mouth, looking uncomfortable by his defeat while he leans back into his seat with no intention to follow up on his words, Javier’s fury settles on your mother once more, “What’s your goal here, exactly?”

You’re aware that it isn’t just a simple few tears falling from your eyes anymore but rather a silent stream that has your face puffy and sensitive. It is accompanied by grief over your younger self not having had someone like Javier in her corner. You sniffle audibly, feeling as if you have been punched in the gut with how much it hurts and humiliates you to sit idly by. Your mother catches a glimpse of you behind your husband but it doesn’t seem to have any effect whatsoever. 

“There’s no secret agenda here, for God’s sake. I didn’t mean anything by it,” she sneers, trying to keep her demeanor straight despite the humiliation of getting called out being evident on her face. 

“Yes, you did,” Javier argues immediately and fiercely, pointing his index finger at her in an accusing manner, “You knew exactly what you were saying. You wanted her to hurt. Well congratulations, you’ve succeeded. Unfortunately, your daughter is a lot nicer than me and handled your words with a lot more grace than you deserve. I will not be doing the same thing.”

Your mother’s composure falters. She says your father’s name helplessly but he looks at her with tired eyes, full of quiet disappointment. Even if he is absent and passive like always, his refusal to intervene further is a sign that he would never go as far as his wife has just done. He shakes his head in disapproval, “Why’d you do it? We were having such a nice time too.”

She gapes at your father while his gaze drops to his lap, shrinking herself slightly at the realization that she is outnumbered and has to face your husband alone. Javier takes a step closer, radiating authority when she tries to avoid further confrontation, distaste so clear on his face for how he has lost her attention for a moment. When you let out a quiet sob, too paralyzed in your spot on the couch to go to your whimpering child, his face hardens further and he continues, “Listen to me.”

Your mother looks up reluctantly. She appears to be on the brink of an attempt to turn his words against him and argue right back once more, but Javier cuts her off before she can even start. 

“You don’t talk to her like that again. Ever. And you most certainly do not question her ability to be a mother. She is a perfect mother and God knows, she hasn’t gotten it from you. Lucas is a happy, healthy, and thriving baby because of her,” he takes a breath, and for a second, it seems like he might be done but then, “You hurt my girl, you understand that? And if you ever speak to her like that again - actually if you even speak about her like that again -  I will personally make sure you don’t get to have Lucas in your life.”

“Are you threatening us?” Her composure slips even more. 

“No, ma’am, I am instructing you,” he replies coldly, “If you can’t respect his mother, we’re done here.”

Javier turns to you now, his face softening immediately at the sight of you sitting teary-eyed on the couch with your hands clutching the baby monitor. He says your name so softly, a sound that has always felt like an unfamiliar and unwelcome sound within this house, and gently pulls the piece of technology out of your hands. 

“Listen to me, baby. Go wait in the car. I’ll get Lucas and his things,” he instructs you, placing the baby monitor on the coffee table behind him without looking away from you. He helps you to stand when you find yourself nodding. 

When you’re up from your seat, he puts a hand on the small of your back to guide you towards the door. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t let you linger in the room. 

“You don’t have to leave,” your mother protests with obvious surprise that you and Javier are carrying out the promise of consequences. She begins pushing herself to stand. 

“Sit down, I will not let you disturb any of the peace she has left,” he commands harshly when she tries to take a step toward you. 

Your mother falters, stunned by his audacity, and sinks back into her seat.

The moment you’re out of the front door, your legs start shaking so badly beneath you that you aren’t sure if you’ll even make it to the car. The walk feels endless, like climbing a mountain, the neighborhood surrounding your childhood home quiet because everyone is inside with the happy family that you never got to have growing up. 

Until now. You have it now. However, you have left them to fend for themselves on the battlefield to slide into the front seat of the car. You rub your chest as it feels tight but it soothes nothing and suddenly, the tears come harder than they had in the living room. You rest your head against the glass window, screwing your eyes shut and feeling drips of hot tears on your cheeks.

Memories come flooding and you have no power to stop them, pictures of many nights spent in solitude in your room because it was the only illusion of sanctuary in the house before you. The sound of your mother’s scoffs, her unbearable ability to make you feel small, inadequate, and unwanted. Her year-long cruelty feels like a knife in your chest but your father’s silent complicity twists its blade too, makes you think that you were never worthy of defending. 

Yet Javier had done it so effortlessly, had done what you’d wished someone would have done for you in your entire life, and he had done it without any hesitation. You are shattered by another night believing the worst about yourself, yes, but you realize that a part of your sobs comes from relief too. Suddenly, it all feels silly and you don’t know why you have always stopped Javier from speaking up for you since you met because his words - she is a perfect mother - have taken the power out of your mother’s incredibly fast. 

You hear the front door open and a shaky sob leaves you at seeing the two of your boys approach the car. Javier has the diaper bag over his shoulder whilst cradling Lucas against his chest, his face serious. He moves in long strides to get to you fast, not saying anything as he buckles Lucas’ sleeping form into his car seat before climbing into his own seat in the front. 

You sit up again, eyes still brimming with tears that streak your face. You feel overwhelmed like you have run a marathon or fought a bear or a monster. 

Javier puts on his seatbelt but doesn’t put the key in the ignition yet. He looks out of the windshield for a moment, breathes a sigh of relief. The car is quiet except for Lucas’ soft breaths as he sleeps.

Right until Javier says your name when you don’t automatically turn your head to look at him, ashamed of how the day has progressed. It is Christmas, after all, and Lucas’ first one ever too. 

“Mírame (Look at me),” he says in a gentle murmur. 

You shake your head, unable to answer with how tightly wound you are. You feel his hand under your chin, carefully pulling you by your chin until your eyes meet his. His outline is blurry from all the tears but his voice cuts through the fog in gentle firmness. 

“I love you so much, and I love our son, okay?” He says it like it is a promise, “They aren't ever gonna to talk to you like that again because I won't allow them to. Do you understand me?”

You silently look at him through your tears, nodding weakly. He reaches to brush your tears away with a knuckle. 

“Everything’s gonna be okay because you don’t have to see them if you don’t want to. You just have to let me take care of you,” he continues and cups your cheek instead, “And right now, I say you’re done with them for tonight. Actually, for as long as you fucking want.”

“I want… I don’t…” You say at first but then, “I’m sorry.”

Javier furrows his brows, “Why are you sorry?” 

“Because that’s my mom,” you try to speak around a fresh sob, “And you married me and I trapped you with my fucked up family.”

“Hey, heyheyhey,” he shakes his head, moving his other hand to cup your whole face now. He leans over the console of the car and rests his forehead against yours. When you simply cry harder, he pulls you into a hug, “You didn’t trap me, okay? You didn’t. I’m here because you make me happy. You make me so happy, baby, and Hell knows, I needed a bit of taking care of when you met me. Let me return the favor.”

His body is warm, soothing, and grounding. His embrace squeezes you hard enough to make you calm down, giving you a moment of quiet peace in your mind as you begin to take in his words. You feel the same. You want to say it but you’re afraid that you’ll never stop crying tonight, so instead you find the courage to say those words that you should have told yourself years ago, “I don’t think I want to go back.”

“What do you want to do then?” Javier pulls back to look at you. He moves back into his own seat again and starts the car to give you time to think clearly about his question. 

“Can we go to your dad’s?” You ask hesitantly. 

Javier’s brows rise slightly but he doesn’t argue, just nods as he puts the car in reverse. Before reversing out of the driveway, he pulls you in to kiss your forehead softly. 

“Claro, mi amor (Sure, my love),” he says simply, “He’d love to see us.”

.

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[kjsfandoms]

Too Good

Eddie Munson x reader

Description: When drunk at a party, the only one Y/N wants right now is her ex-boyfriend, Eddie Munson.

Word count: 2.0k

-----------

This is not how you planned for your night to go. Drunk at a party, you stumble your way through the crowd in search of Robin with another drink in your hand. You knew it was a mistake to drink this much, but these past few weeks have been hell and you just needed the distraction. Why have they been hell you may ask? Eddie Munson, your boyfriend of just over 7 months, dumped you. And why? You don’t even know. So when invited by Steve and Robin to go to a party, who would you be to deny?

Stumbling into the kitchen you lean onto a counter and continue to look around for Robin who has yet been nowhere to be seen. Then your drunken mind remembers you saw Robin staring down Vickie earlier, so you doubt you’d see her anytime soon. But at this point you’re so drunk and can’t even stand properly- swinging side to side as your drink splashes around in your red solo cup. You find a bar stool and sit down and start to stare off into the distance. Your mind starts to wander off to Eddie. Why did he break up with you? Did he even love you? But you came here to forget that, so no more wasting time thinking about him and possibly even missing him. You stood back up and walked back out to the main room to dance with some strangers. 

---

God knows how long you’ve been dancing at this point. Your vision is blurry and your hearing is going in and out. ‘Yup, I’ve had way too much to drink.’ you think to yourself. You don’t feel good at all at this point. You attempt to stumble outside in search for some fresh air but there are just too many people here. As your body is being pushed side to side by the fellow people dancing, you feel a hand on a shoulder. You turn to see that that hand belongs to Gareth. “Holy shit, Y/N, are you okay? You look wrecked.” You mumble out some words in response that you yourself can’t even understand as you let him walk you over to a couch and set you down. “How much have you had to drink?” Looking up at him with drunken eyes, you manage to reply with, “Too much.” “No shit, I can tell.” At this point you’re scared, you can’t see or hear anything and it’s making you panic. You’re out of your right mind and you know it, especially when you mutter out the words, “Where’s Eddie?”. This somewhat shocks Gareth as he knows everything that went down between you two. “Eddie isn’t here Y/N. It’s just me and Jeff.” He says as he holds you up steady by your shoulders. “I want Eddie.” Gareth sighs as he says, “Okay stay here. I’ll call him.” 

Under different circumstances Gareth would not be running to the house phone to call Eddie for you. Even though Eddie is his best friend, he is definitely on Y/N’s side of things. But Y/N is clearly out of her senses and surely the friends she came here with are as well, so what choice does he have? He dials Eddie’s number as fast as he can and waits for an answer. On the fourth ring, he hears a “Hello?”. 

“Hey, man, it’s Gareth. I’m at that dumb house party me and Jeff went to and, uh, I need you to drive down here.”

“What for?”

“Y/N.” 

As soon as Eddie hears that name his heart drops. As much as he hates to admit it, you’re still on his mind. The phone call falls silent for a moment as Eddie falls deep into thought. “Eddie? You still there? I’m serious, dude, she needs you here.” That’s all the words Eddie needs as he quickly puts on his leather jacket and says, “I’m on my way.”

The entire ride there Eddie’s heart is pounding. He hasn’t seen you since the breakup and you made sure of it. You avoided him at all cost and he won’t deny that that did hurt, but he knows it’s deserved. Sweaty hands grip his steering wheel as he pulls up to the party. He gets out and spots Jeff standing outside. “Finally, man, you’re here.” “Why exactly am I here?” “Did Gareth not tell you? Y/N is drunk off her mind. So drunk that she’s been asking for you.” This shocked Eddie to the core. You still thought about him? Enough to ask for him while drunk? He then nervously walks in with Jeff as he leads them to where Gareth and you are sitting. 

Jeff and Eddie walk up to the couch where you and Gareth sit. He leans down in front of you and looks you in the eyes for the first time in weeks. “Hey, Y/N. You ready to go home?” Your drunken eyes meet his and you immediately melt. You hate to admit how much you’ve missed him. Seeing those eyes again is enough to make you fall in love all over again. You nod your head in response and let him help you off the couch. He walks you to his van and helps you into the passenger seat. Once he’s in his seat and starts pulling out, you mumble, “Don’t wanna go home.” He looks over at you with confusion and asks, “Well where do you wanna go sweetheart? It’s one in the morning, you’re drunk, and need to lay down.” 

“Your place.”

His breath catches in his throat at your response and awkwardly responds, “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Y/N.”

“Please, Eds. My mom will kill me.” Your drunk self whines, as you lazily look over at him. Though even while drunk, you notice the way his face reacted to the nickname.

With a deep sigh, “Fine, sweetheart.”

For you, the car ride to his place felt like a few minutes as you were dozed off half the time, but as for Eddie, it felt like an eternity. His eyes wouldn’t stop traveling over to you and how beautiful you looked even while this drunk. It reminded him of why he even dumped you in the first place. You’re too perfect for him. He thought you deserved better, not some third senior-trailer junkie who doesn’t have a real job besides selling drugs to high schoolers. You deserved the world and he just couldn’t give that to you. 

Eventually he pulled into the trailer park and parks his car next to his trailer. The slam of his door wakes you up and you notice Eddie walking to the passenger to help you out. He opens the door and helps you stand onto your feet and leads you inside. You immediately plop onto the couch as Eddie takes off his jacket and hangs it onto the arm of the couch. “Let’s get you to bed.” He helps you stand up again and walks you to his bedroom where you go to lay down. He leaves his room to run to his bathroom real quick to grab the makeup remover from his cabinet that you left there months ago. He heads back into his room and sits next to you on the edge of his bed. “Just gonna take your makeup off, love.” Once it’s all off you start to attempt to wiggle yourself out of your black jean shorts. Eddie takes notice and even though you guys are no longer together, he knows how much you hate sleeping in jeans. So with a sigh he helps you undo them and slide them off. “Can I sleep in one of your shirts?” You ask with a pout as you look up at him from your spot on the bed. And how could Eddie ever say no to the girl he loves? “Of course.” He says as he sits up and grabs your favorite Black Sabbath t-shirt of his. You slip out of your shirt but struggle with your bra. Once again, he notices and offers to help. You accept and let him effortlessly unclip it and slide the straps down your arms and then continue to slip the t-shirt over your head. 

You let your head hit his pillow and let him pull the blanket over your body. He starts to leave for the couch but you grab his wrist before he even gets the chance. “Stay.” Eddie looks down at you and just stands there for a good few seconds. “Please. I want you here with me.” And those six words were enough to convince him. He slides out of his own jeans and lays in bed beside you. You almost immediately cling to his side to cuddle him. He prays that you can’t hear how hard his heart is beating at the moment. Having you in his bed again felt so surreal. But he tries not to overthink it as he knows once you wake up and become sober you’re gonna realize the drunk mistake you made and immediately leave. 

He’s close to falling asleep until he hears you mumble, “I missed you.” into his chest. He didn’t think his heart could beat any faster but here we are. “You’re drunk, Y/N. You don’t mean that. I hurt you.”

“Why did you hurt me? I didn’t do anything.” He can hear that Y/N is close to tears and lets out yet another sigh.

“We’re too different.”

At that, you start to sober up and sit up onto your elbow and look over at him. “What makes you think that?”

He as well sits up and replies, “You’re you, Y/N, and I’m me. You’re so smart and beautiful and I’m just some loser who got lucky and met you. Dumb luck. You’re too good for me. You deserve someone better. Someone who can give you the world.”

“But, Eddie, you are my world. I don’t want or need someone better when I have you in front of me. If I thought you were no good for me I wouldn’t have even started dating you in the first place. I love you for who you are. Sure you have your struggles, but I know one day you’re gonna make it through them. One day you’re gonna make it out of this trailer park. One day you’re gonna be one of the biggest rockstars the world has ever known. And one day you’ll finally have the life you deserve.” 

Eddie falls quiet as he looks over at you with watery eyes. He never would’ve believed that someone would ever think that highly of him. His whole life he has been seen as less and even though he has grown to be used to it, there was still always a pit of insecurity hiding there. So hearing the words come from the person he is still in love with, even while they’re drunk, truly opens his mind. Maybe he is worth more than what he thinks he is.

You notice his watery eyes and immediately pull him into your chest to hug him. With his head buried into your chest you hear him whisper, “I missed you too.” At his words, you melt. You start to slowly stroke his hair as small tears roll down his face and onto you. “Wayne misses you too. He was pissed when I told him I dumped you.” You let out a small laugh at his words and kiss the top of his head. “I missed Wayne too, and his dumb movie choices.” Eddie let out a laugh as well as he snuggled deeper into you. “I truly am sorry, Y/N. I thought about you everyday and never once did I stop loving you.” 

“Me too, Eddie. Me too.”

Eventually he falls asleep, with you still holding his larger frame. It doesn’t take long for you to fall asleep as well.

—- As Wayne walks into the trailer after working his night shift, he slips off his shoes and places down his bag beside the couch. There he spots Eddie’s leather jacket hanging loosely on the arm of the couch. “Thought I told this boy to stop leaving his stuff around.”, he grumbles. He picks up the jacket and walks down to his nephew's room to hang it up. As he opens the door he stops in his tracks. He looks down at the bed to see Eddie and you. He hangs the jacket up and walks back out with a smile.

[yolli-es]

Hi! This is my first request also i love your writing so much! I've been looking everywhere for a nsfw alphabet headcanons for jinx there isn't any can you please make one i don.t think anyone understand or describe her the way you do

Also don't push yourself!

NSFW Jinx alphabet🔥

Tags: NO spoilers for season 2

I did!! It was an interesting experience for me and thanks for the kind words. In fact, I have a problem with understanding the characters and it is very nice to hear this 😅

PERSON WHO ASKED SOMETHING SIMILAR: Are you still waiting for an answer to your request? Most likely, I will write the same thing 👉🏻👈🏻 You can also answer anonymously.

Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Jinx spends most of her time proving her love for you. Sex is no exception. It's just another of the many ways to say: "I don't just love you; I obsessed you." That's why, in the moments after intimacy, Jinx finally calms down. She just spent all her energy on pleasing you and got it in return. There is no better confirmation of your feelings for her right now. You can just look at each other; she won't rush at you to touch you like she would at any other moment.

Don't worry, she'll do it later.

Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Choose and Jinx are not compatible. She will never tell you what she likes most about you; it's too complicated. Hands, neck, legs, hair, belly, and absolutely everything will be honored with attention from Jinx before and after sex. She also sincerely does not understand why others choose a favorite part of their beloved if they can fuck all parts?

It's much easier for her to say what she doesn't like about herself. Her breasts are her main complex, and if you say something like "I like big breasts,"  "my exes had huge breasts," or simply "between big and small, I'll choose big," expect a bunch of strange decisions from Jinx to hide her "flaw."

Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

She will never think twice before cumming. Jinx doesn't care where, how, or where she does it. If you like it when she does it in certain places, she will remember and will definitely do it... However, if you don't like it when she cums somewhere, then... accept it; she will simply forget about it until you throw a real tantrum and you won't start threatening her.

Jinx has trouble remembering "no" and is great at focusing on "yes."

Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Jinx has a strange turn on when playing with her guns. She has imagined you saddle her with a gun in your hand more than once. She finds it oddly arousing to think about the possibility of a purely accidental death or injury while you're so close. The possibility of being blown up is also close to her.

But all of this will remain a fantasy. You are unlikely to agree to point a gun at her, which Jinx is well aware of. Besides, it's too dangerous for you. What if you go crazy and shoot yourself in the foot?

Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

You are her number one in everything, and she will do anything just to keep you from finding out. Jinx thinks that her lack of experience will make her a terrible partner in your eyes—a bad choice, and you will absolutely never fuck her. You will definitely understand that she is inexperienced when Jinx cannot pull off your bra. She has never worn one, and I swear she was ready to burst into tears at that moment.

After a couple of "training sessions," Jinx becomes the best lover possible. She learns quickly and does exactly what you want her to do because of her excellent understanding of people and her huge intellect.

Favorite position (this goes without saying)

She likes everything as long as you touch her. Jinx won't mind hanging upside down if it means constant physical contact.

Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Until Jinx gained enough (by her standards) experience, she took any joke in bed personally. Don't joke with her in the beginning; it might trigger voices in her head.

Later, when her skills allowed her to make mush out of you, Jinx began to like sudden stupid phrases. Especially while you were riding her. Jinx is not very goofy, but she starts to enjoy breaking your serious mood with the stupidest joke. You can start so hot and continue so intensely, but at some point Jinx will whisper in your ear: "What do you call a person who runs away from a cannibal? Fast food"

She lost a couple of orgasms, but you laughed! It's a small loss for a great cause.

Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Jinx's hair is really long, and I believe that her pubic hair was just as long. Okay, not that long. But Jinx has definitely never shaved. One day she got the idea to paint them green, but she got a minor chemical burn, and now she is afraid and ashamed to do anything with them.

You can ask her to shave, and then do it yourself, because she will definitely cut off a piece of herself without help.

Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Jinx is focused on your feelings and simply adapts to them. If you want it hot and fast, she will do it; if you want it slow and gentle, she will do it. You don't even have to ask. And believe me, she will like it. Jinx will definitely not deprive herself of pleasure; she can just enjoy any interaction as long as you are delighted.

Jinx herself doesn't put much meaning into sex; there is no special romance in it that she could not achieve without getting into your pants. After all, she grew up in a city where they make a living from it.

Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Jinx did this a couple of times as a teenager, mostly out of curiosity. Mylo ruins her mood every time, and it never worked.

After her first orgasm with you, she tried to repeat something similar on her own. She missed your hands, your breath, and your giggles. She couldn't cum.

Jinx will quickly stop doing it.

Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Jinx is obsessed with you. She spends most of her time expressing her gratitude to you for all the good things you give her.

And she loves you even more when you do the same.

It's okay if you get cruel and a little over the top at this point; Jynx will still love it. She will never feel as loved and needed as when you are completely obsessed with her. Sincerely, not when she asks you to. Bite her to mark her, dominate her, and constantly whisper: "You are mine, and that will never change." Oh, she will cum so hard.

Location (favorite places to do the do)

On the table in her workshop. Jinx will also call you her project or her favorite gun.

Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

When you take the initiative. Any touch to her with a subtext will be met with active actions. She feels your mood well.

Jinx will also try to tease you if she feels like you've been too cold towards her lately. She firmly believes that this is a radical way to love and will definitely remind you of her devotion.

No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Want to pick a fight with Jinx? Ask her for group sex.

Jinx won't share with you. Forget about a threesome.

Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Jinx will always be the first to initiate oral sex. She enjoys it while she's doing it and goes crazy when she's receiving it. It's her favorite. She's also damn good at it; oral wasn't bad even the very first time.

It must just be a talent—another one in Jinx's stack.

Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

The one you need. She won't be too shy about being rude to you if you moan louder and rub against her more actively.

Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Jinx herself is very active, and her life is quite eventful. And yet this does not mean that she is a fan of it.

Usually you have quick sex just because you want it; Jinx prefers to wait for the moment when it will be possible to do everything she wants. Bite, rub, look, and lick, enjoying the moment, not just to stop the itching.

Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Experiments? Yes. Risk? Never.

You will try everything; Jinx is a searching nature. She will definitely tie you up, spank you, not let you cum, and try different toys on you. You will go through all this together and more than once.

But Jinx would never risk the safety of your pussy. To do so much for your safety, only to be able to lose you so stupidly? No, never.

And no threesomes either.

Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Jinx runs around Zaun with three guns and a bunch of bullets. She's incredibly resilient. You'll sweat more with her than you would on a Silko or Sevika mission. She won't leave you alone until she feels satisfied. Just when you feel like you're getting used to long sex sessions, she finds a way to knock you off your feet again. You tried to wear her out by having Jinx lift you.

Fatal mistake, terrible decision. That's why Jinx is a genius in your little family.

Her body got used to your weight pretty quickly and only strengthened her, making your sex not only long and exhausting, but also a little more difficult for you.

Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Jinx only uses them when she thinks you're getting bored in sex. Jinx will also definitely make a couple of sex toys, more for the sake of interest than sexual desire. She won't use it on her own, but how can she deny you the pleasure of torturing her a little with a toy? She'll definitely enjoy it too much, and control of the situation will pass into her hands as quickly as it left. 

Unfair (how much they like to tease)

For Jinx, teasing = prelude. She won't start until she realizes how hard you're want to coming. Sometimes it can go on too long, and you'll be hysterical and start crying. Jinx didn't want that; she just got carried away, so she'll definitely pay for it tenfold.

Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Scream or she will make you.

Your moans and screams are the only way to show others that you adore her without endangering the lives of others. It's also a great way to relieve stress.

Jinx will definitely enjoy it; don't hold back.

Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

One time you accidentally called her by her real name in the midst of oral sex. She immediately stopped and just looked at you for a few seconds before she started crying. You didn't finish that time.

"Powder" has become your stop word.

X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

5.25 feet of slender body, long fingers, and a nimble tongue. There's a lot to work with.

Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Jinx has a low libido, and before meeting you, sex was not a concern to her. Even as a teenager, when hormones were raging, Jinx remained indifferent to intimacy. Now, you can excite her with just a hint. A light touch, a piquant pose, or an ambiguous phrase will make Jinx immediately become active.

Other people doing similar things irritate her.

Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

After sex, Jinx will lie next to you, just watching. She will be strangely silent and soothingly sweet. Very soon it will stop stressing you out and make you calm down. She will not close her eyes until she is sure that you have fallen asleep. This will last for a couple more hours before she can fall asleep.

Jinx always had trouble sleeping, but when she's next to you, her problem disappears.

I hope the topic of sex is covered and I didn't miss anything 🙏🏻🙏🏻

[livwritessometimes]

I Will Never Make You Regret This—Regret Us

: Part 18 (Lando's Version)

: All’s well that ends well to end up with you!

: Prev |

: Series Masterlist

: Main Masterlist

…

The night grew colder as Y/n stared out at the city. It had been minutes—hours, maybe. Time had lost its meaning for her these days. The cold reminded her of the last time she was here.

...

"Be my girlfriend," Lando repeated this time, looking her right in the eye.

"Are you serious?" Y/n questioned. If you had told her a month ago that the noisy neighbor from the floor above her, whom she hated with a passion, would be standing in front of her asking her to be his girlfriend, she would have laughed in your face.

"As serious as I'll ever be," Lando said, his eyes glistening with sincerity.

"Yes," Y/n whispered, as she leaned in to close the gap between them.

...

The memory left a bittersweet taste in her mouth. It felt strange to think about him again. It had been a while since she thought of him as anything but hurt and betrayal.

The cold air nipped at her skin, but she didn't feel anything. It was as if she were trapped in the ghost of their past—so much so that she didn't hear the soft creak of the door or the footsteps that approached the secluded area where she stood, the one that offered the best view of the city.

"Y/n!" Called out the voice Y/n had been dreading as much as she had been longing to hear.

She whipped around to find none other than the boy she loved—the one who broke her heart, "Lando!" She said.

Time had stopped for the two, and for a moment, neither of them knew what to do. The weight of everything left unsaid was suffocating the both of them.

It was Lando who broke the silence first, his voice softer than she remembered. "I didn't think you'd be here," He said.

"Yeah, someone once told me it's a nice place to go to when you need a breather," Y/n shrugged as she turned back to look over the city.

Lando was at a lose for words. There were so many things he wanted to say, but he couldn't figure out where to begin.

"I hate myself," said Lando. He continued, "I hate myself for ever agreeing to that stupid dare. I hate myself for continuing with it, knowing that I had started to fall for you. I hate myself for thinking that calling off the dare would make things better. More than that, I hate myself for breaking your heart."

Y/n felt tears streaming down her face. She couldn't turn around and face him just yet, knowing that if she did, she would break down even more.

"I know that nothing I say or do can erase what has happened between us, and I don't deserve your forgiveness," Lando said, swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat. "But I hope, someday, I can make things right between us," He finished.

"I've been thinking about this a lot...and I have looked at a few houses," Lando said.

Y/n felt her heart beat even faster in anticipation of what he was about to say.

"I am going to move out," Lando said. "Us living in the same apartment complex makes things even more difficult, and I've hurt you enough already. I don't want to cause any further pain beyond what I've already done," he continued.

Y/n felt torn; the weight of his words hung heavy in the air.

Taking her silence as an answer, Lando turned to make his way downstairs.

'I don't hate you," Said Y/n.

Lando stopped in his tracks, afraid that if he moved, he'd realize that he had just imagined this.

"In fact, somehow I can never bring myself to hate you," Y/n continued.

Lando's heart felt like it was about to combust—he definitely wasn't imagining this. Slowly turning around, he saw a teary-eyed Y/n looking back at him.

"What you did was an awful, awful thing to do, and I hate that because of it, I had to question the authenticity of everything that happened between us," Y/n said, wiping away the fresh tears that were falling.

"That being said...I don't want our story to end like this. I believe that there's more to our story, and I—I'm willing to take the risk, but I swear to god, Lando Norris, if you make me regret this, I will never ever forgive you. Ever. You hear me—" Y/n was cut off by Lando suddenly throwing himself at her.

"I promise I will never make you regret this—regret us," Lando said pulling her in tighter.

(3 months later)

…

Tags: @regalbanshee | @be-your-coffee-pot | @mrsbrxkkxr | @princessria127 | @moonraysandstars | @prettiest-at-the-party | @theblueblub | @magixpracticality | @slytherinholland | @overlyexcitedoutlaw | @marvel-at-stucky | @crumbssss | @a-beaverhausen | @felicityforyou | @gigigreens | @jas0nluvr | @khaylin27 | @imsiriuslyreal | @cwiphswmwasohmm | @wobblymug | @e-nonsense | @raizelchrysanderoctavius | @papaya-twinks | @vintagefucksstuff | @st4rg1rln | @redstappen | @iamred-iamyellow | @tashisgf | @ghost-of-student-sufferings | @saachiep81 | @lozzamez3 | @ravisinghs-wife | @elizamoe133 | @anthonylockwoodandco111 | @formulaal | @luvsforme | @annabellelee | @a-disturbing-self-reflection | @emryb | @grovelingmen | @illicit-affcirs | @iwilleatyourgod | @youre-on-your-ownkid | @originaldreamerdragon | @landorris | @mountvesuvu | @chezmardybum | @littlegrapejuice | @spitesfvl-blog | @juleshadalittlelamb | @vicurious28 | @phd-catstealer |

[etrsilk]

Hi ! Can I request what would do the main four if you were catcalled?

Today I have been catcalled and it's made me feel so bad and embarrassed.. Anyway I love so much you're a headcanon !

₊✩‧₊˚ ᡣ𐭩 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑 ⇝ 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 .ᐟ

˗ˏˋ ➛ 𝙞𝙣𝙘𝙡𝙪𝙙𝙚𝙨: 𝘒𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘶𝘢,𝘎𝘰𝘯,𝘒𝘶𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘪𝘬𝘢,𝘓𝘦𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘰

˗ˏˋ ➛ 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 — 𝘴𝘦𝘹𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴

˗ˏˋ ➛ 𝙜𝙚𝙣𝙧𝙚 — 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧,𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵 (?)

⎝ 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚:: firstly I'm so sorry it took so long!! As I said in one of my posts I had to study for a very important exam that I had on Friday and then I had to take a little break! But now it's good I'm back !! And I'm sorry for what happened to you...take care of yourself I hope you get better 🫶🏻 and thank you very much ♡♡ while writing I realized that it looked more like one shots than headcanons but I hope you like it anyway!! ♡

 —𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐔𝐀ꫂ ၴႅၴ

You had just left your candy store and were on your way home when a stranger approached you and started making inappropriate remarks.

"Hey beautiful, you know you’re really sexy with those big breasts?"

You suddenly stopped and let go of your boyfriend's hand. Killua turned around with a piercing, icy gaze and a murderous intent in his eyes.

The stranger, surprised by Killua’s serious and threatening tone, took a few steps back, laughing nervously.

"Hey... it's okay, man. I’m just joking. I was just giving your girlfriend a compliment, chill."

Killua, still with his dark assassin’s gaze, activated his claws. He wasn’t going to use them or harm the stranger; he just wanted to terrify him.

"That’s not a compliment. It’s disrespectful. Say one more inappropriate thing, and you’ll regret it."

The stranger, feeling the murderous aura emanating from Killua, continued to back away until he bumped into a trash can.

"Pfff, I’m outta here." He said, raising his hand to seem cool. He then quickly walked away.

Killua let out a small, mocking, proud laugh, then turned to you to see how you were doing. He took your head in his hands and kissed your forehead.

"Are you okay?"

You remained silent.

"He’s just a jerk, you know that?"

"Yes, I know. Let’s keep going."

"That said, he’s not wrong, you are sexy... ouch, I was just kidding!!"

 —𝐊𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐈𝐊𝐀ꫂ ၴႅၴ

You were having a quiet morning when a stranger approached you and started making inappropriate remarks towards you.

"Hey beautiful, you know you’re really sexy with those big breasts?"

Kurapika widened his eyes and squeezed your hand tightly.

"Ouch, Kurapika, you're hurting me... just ignore him, okay? It's nothing."

"Oh, she's ignoring me..."

...

"I know you heard me, princess..."

...

"Just answer my question; don’t you have a phone number to give me? With your boyfriend's build, you must not be very satisfied in bed. You’ll see what it's like to—"

He didn't have time to finish his sentence before a punch sent him to the ground. Kurapika, his eyes red with anger.

"You should be careful about what you say."

"Damn, man, who do you think you are—"

He noticed the hatred in Kurapika's eyes and stopped short.

"Uh... it's not a big deal, I'm leaving anyway. She's not even that sexy"

He quickly walked away, visibly intimidated. Kurapika watched him go, then turned to you, his expression softening as soon as he met your eyes.

"Are you okay, my love? I'm sorry you had to hear that..."

He kissed your hand before taking it and squeezing it gently.

"Everything’s fine, thank you for putting him in his place, Kurapika."

 —𝐆𝐎𝐍ꫂ ၴႅၴ

You were at a fair, the lights of the rides, the laughter, and the screams of joy creating a cheerful atmosphere. Everything was perfect until a stranger began making inappropriate remarks towards you.

"Hey beautiful, you know you’re really sexy with those big breasts?"

Gon, holding the stuffed animal he had worked so hard to win for you, sees his joyful expression gradually fade.

"What did you just say?"

The stranger, thinking Gon is just a simple teenager, laughs at the situation.

"Relax, kid. I was just giving your girlfriend a compliment."

"A compliment? You should apologize right now."

"And if I don't, what are you going to do?"

Gon clenches his fists, his aura becoming more intense, but he tries to stay calm.

"I won't repeat myself. Apologize."

"No-"

Gon punches the stranger squarely. Everyone around starts watching you. Gon grabs your hand and you both run to escape the security guards chasing you.

A few minutes after escaping, you stop near a supermarket and burst into laughter. In the end, everything turned out fine!

"I'm so sorry someone spoke to you like that."

"It’s nothing, thank you for defending me."

You stand on your tiptoes to reach his level and kiss him tenderly.

"My superman..."

He blushes before taking your hand.

 —𝐋𝐄𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐎ꫂ ၴႅၴ

You are quietly chatting on the terrace of a café when a stranger approaches and starts making inappropriate remarks towards you.

"Hey beautiful, you know you’re really sexy with those big breasts?"

Leorio furrows his brow and freezes.

"What did you just say??"

He shouts in a loud, authoritative voice.

"Your girlfriend is really hot. Should we share her?"

Thinking Leorio is harmless, the stranger steps closer with a sneer.

"Oh, relax. I was just giving a compliment."

"That's not a compliment, it's disrespect. You better apologize right now. Didn't your mother ever teach you to respect women?"

The stranger chuckles but begins to sense the seriousness of the situation as he sees Leorio's unyielding and threatening gaze.

"Get lost."

The stranger, intimidated by Leorio's stare and tone, quickly retreats, casting a nervous glance back. Leorio turns to you with a worried expression.

"Damn, the next time someone talks to you like that…"

You grab his hand and envelop it in yours.

"It’s okay, Leorio. It's nothing. Let's go home and forget about it."

Leorio smiles gently before kissing you, and you walk away hand in hand.

—English is not my first language, so sorry for any mistakes!! (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟ