#in the ways he couldn’t help emma

[wormieapple]

i am once again thinking about emma

[singmyaubade]

the greatest heist

james potter x female!reader

summary: when james's girlfriend decides to fuck with you, your only other choice is to fuck with her.

warnings: eventual smut! 18+ heavy angst, cursing, wearing, jealousy

a/n: my bad for taking so long.. enjoy & as always, i apologize if you hate this!

part 1 | part 2

SITTING in the Hospital Wing for the rest of your glamorous night was certainly not on your bucket list for the year.

You couldn't believe that while your friends were most likely on their next shot of Firewhiskey, there you were, sitting with an ice pack on your ankle and a yellow, now turning purple, bruise resting below it.

The scowl on your face couldn’t be more defined before a gentle squeeze on your forearm snapped you out of your angered thoughts.

A sweet, warm James sat beside you, his comforting smile as kind as ever. You gave him a shy smile in return, reluctant to admit that his presence made you feel just a little bit better.

"You know, you don’t have to stay here," You said, voice soft but sincere. "You don’t have to stay out of pity for me while the rest of our friends are probably on their fourth round of Truth or Dare." You snorted, trying to make light of it.

James lightly laughed, the sound warm and comforting. "I wanna be here," He replied sweetly, making your heart swell despite yourself. "I mean, I am partly to blame for your injury."

You snickered, raising an eyebrow. "Yeah, your vicious twirling of me is definitely what did it."

He yawned dramatically. "Yeah, I’m so strong," He flexed one arm with exaggerated pride, earning a laugh from you as you playfully swatted at him.

"Well, dearie!" Madame Pomfrey exclaimed, appearing suddenly from the patient beside you. "It seems it’s just a deep bruise—nothing a bit of Bruisewart Balm won’t fix," She stated, handing you the small jar of balm. "I’d recommend taking it easy on your feet for a day or two, but nothing too strenuous."

"Thank you, Madame Pomfrey," You smiled as she nodded and moved on to her next patient.

"And to prevent more bruising," Pomfrey added with a sly smile, "I’d recommend staying away from Mr. Potter over here."

James frowned. "Oh Pops, how you wound me!" He said dramatically, making Pomfrey roll her eyes and walk away.

The tension in the room lifted, but as James turned back to you, the air between you two shifted. You met his gaze, and for the first time, you noticed the way his eyes seemed to sparkle, how the dim light of the Hospital Wing made them look even more intense. You felt your heart race in your chest as he cleared his throat.

"Well, it seems like you won’t need to stay overnight," James said, a little too casually, his voice softer than usual. "May I help you hop back to your dorm m'lady?" His hand extended out for you.

You blinked at him, a little surprised at his suggestion. "What a gentleman," You mocked, though your voice was lighthearted as he helped you carefully get to your feet, his hand steady at your waist and the small of your back.

You both started down the hallway, his support a comforting presence as you tried to regain your balance on your injured ankle.

"You know Emma’s going to kill me, right?" You said with a dry chuckle.

James huffed in response, his arm still around you. "She’s really not as deadly as you all make her out to be," he said lightly.

You scoffed, shaking your head. "I think there’s a reason all the girls in sixth year have stayed away from you, and it isn’t because of your looks or personality."

James laughed, but there was a tinge of embarrassment in his eyes. "Well, she’s just really protective, you know?" He helped you adjust your step as you hopped slightly, trying to stay balanced. "She cares about me."

You raised an eyebrow. 'Protective doesn’t mean bat-shit crazy,' You thought to yourself.

"But I am sorry for how she’s been treating you," James continued, his voice turning a little more serious. "We broke up over it, you know?"

You didn’t know how to respond. You’d heard they’d had a fight, but you hadn’t realized it had escalated to that point.

"Over me?" you asked, a little surprised.

"Yeah," He nodded, his voice almost sheepish. "I know we haven’t talked much in the last couple of years, but you’ve always meant a lot to me, you know? So, when she gave me that choice—you or her—I thought it was a load of bollocks, but in the end, I think it was what we both needed. To take a step back, I mean."

You felt your stomach twist at his words. You knew their relationship had always been complicated, but hearing it from him like this was not what you had expected.

"And how did she take that?" You asked, trying to keep your voice even.

James’s face softened, but there was a faint trace of sadness in his expression. "She yelled. Cursed me out for a bit, slammed the door, and I haven’t seen her since."

You nodded, processing his words. You hoped to feel happy and to be excited, but you only felt sadness for James. Despite your dislike for Emma, he had seemed to actually enjoy her presence.

And all you ever wanted for James was for him to be happy even if it meant the literal Anti-christ being his girlfriend.

"Well," You said quietly, "I'm sorry to hear that."

James looked over at you, his lips curling into a soft smile. "Thanks."

The silence stretched between you two as you hobbled along the corridor. You could feel the weight of his words hanging in the air, and something about it made your heart beat a little faster.

"Can I ask you something?" You ventured, glancing up at him.

"Anything," James replied, his voice sincere.

"Why didn’t you ever... you know, talk to me about this before? You’ve been kind of distant, and—" You cut yourself off, not wanting to sound too accusatory.

James gave a small, rueful chuckle. "Guess I was just stupid, huh?" He looked over at you, his expression thoughtful. "I always figured things would work themselves out, and we would get closer in the future. But maybe I was wrong or just scared of Emma." He lightly laughed.

You didn’t quite know how to respond to that, so you stayed quiet for a moment, your mind racing. The conversation felt like it was drifting toward a place you weren’t sure you were ready for, but at the same time, a part of you felt like you needed the conversation.

As you approached the Gryffindor Tower entrance, you could see the Fat Lady’s portrait in the distance, and the familiar weight of the evening was starting to settle back into place.

"This is me," You said, trying to keep your tone light as you stopped in front of the portrait.

"Yeah," James replied softly, a bit quieter now like he didn’t want the moment to end. "But, you know, if you ever need anything—"

"I know where to find you," You said, a teasing smile playing on your lips.

James looked at you for a long moment, and for just a beat, it felt like everything between you two shifted again. His eyes were intense, but there was something more in them now, something that made your heart flutter.

"Yeah," he said, voice barely above a whisper, "You do."

You turned toward the Fat Lady, trying to mask the sudden rush of emotions coursing through you. You gave her the password, and as the portrait swung open, you took a last glance at James.

"Night, James," You said, your voice soft.

"Goodnight," he replied, his gaze lingering on you as you stepped inside.

And for a brief moment, you couldn’t help but wonder, maybe there was more to your friendship than you’d ever realized.

--

"He said what?!" Dorcas yelled excitedly, her voice carrying across the otherwise quiet Great Hall. You quickly shushed her, eyes darting around the room to make sure no one was watching. It was way too early for this kind of drama.

You had both decided to wake up an hour earlier than all the other girls for two very important reasons: 1) You didn’t trust Emma, and 2) You really didn’t trust Emma.

A few third-years glanced up from their breakfast, clearly curious about the outburst. You snorted, trying to hide your smile as you took another bite of toast.

"And what did you say?" Dorcas asked, her eyes practically sparkling with curiosity.

"Nothing," You muttered, refusing to meet her gaze as you stared off into the distance.

"What do you mean you said nothing?!" She questioned loudly, banging her hand against the table with enough force to rattle your plate.

You grabbed her hands quickly, trying to calm her down. "Stop doing that!" You whispered, sending apologetic glances to the third-years who were now staring openly at you.

"I just mean you had a perfect opportunity to get back at Emma, get Potter on your side, and you said nothing?!" Dorcas exclaimed, her voice rising with the excitement of her accusation.

You sighed, guilt twisting in your stomach. "I can’t do that to him, Dorc," You said quietly.

She stared at you for a long moment, clearly processing your words. There was a flash of realization in her eyes before she grinned, her voice dropping to a teasing whisper. "You like him!"

You felt your face heat up as you rolled your eyes. "I do not."

"You do," She sang, drawing out the words like she was taunting a child.

"I do not," You said firmly, refusing to let her win.

"But you do—"

"I do not!" You interrupted, suddenly shouting, not even bothering to care about the third years who were now openly staring at you.

Dorcas smirked in victory. "Yeah, sure you don’t."

You groaned, dropping your head into your hands. "This can’t be happening to me. It’s been one day since the plan was made!" You whined, half-exasperated, half-amused.

Dorcas gently pried your hands away from your face, her fingers rubbing soothing circles into your knuckles. "You can’t just hold your feelings in. If you like Potter, then so what?" She said gently, trying to comfort you. "Better than that evil witch."

You snorted at that. "I can't, Dorcas. I refuse to like someone who has the craziest ex-girlfriend in all of girlfriend history."

She sighed dramatically, looking at you as if you were the most difficult person in the world. "So what’s your master plan now, huh? Avoid him forever?"

You put on a fake, thoughtful face. "Avoid him," You pondered with a smile. "It’s the only option. Great idea, Dorc!"

Dorcas huffed, shaking her head as she took her hands away from yours. "Yeah, maybe just avoid him," She muttered, clearly not sold on your brilliant plan.

You laughed and stabbed a fork into your eggs. "Exactly."

Before Dorcas could reply, a voice slid in beside her, smooth and familiar. "Isn’t it the prettiest ladies I’ve had the honor of seeing as I awake?" Sirius Black drawled, grinning widely. Dorcas immediately shot him a disgusted look, scooting a few inches away from him.

"What do you want, Black?" You asked, already annoyed before he could even open his mouth again.

"Why do you treat me so horribly when I just want your love?" Sirius exclaimed dramatically, clutching his chest as if you had wounded him deeply.

You couldn’t help but laugh lightly at his antics.

"Are all of the Marauders this dramatic?" Dorcas asked, still eyeing Sirius in distaste.

"Believe it or not, yes," You confirmed, just as someone slid into the seat beside you.

"Good morning," James Potter greeted, flashing you that same sweet smile you had trouble getting out of your head.

You immediately felt a flutter in your chest. Your throat seemed to dry up as you turned to look at him. He looked radiant this morning—like the sun itself had decided to take residence in his smile.

You gulped, your brain scrambling for words. You quickly glanced at Dorcas, who gave you a subtle shake of her head, silently telling you not to do anything rash.

"Morning!" you rushed out, way too eager. You quickly gathered your things, mentally panicking. "I actually have to go study in the library for a while, so I’m just gonna go ahead." You stood quickly, trying to make your escape.

James stood up with you, looking at you with those shining eyes. "I can come with," He offered cheerfully, clearly not reading the room at all.

You shook your head rapidly, desperate to escape the conversation. "No, no! I’ll be fine!" you said a little too quickly, almost tripping over your own feet as you backed away. "I’ll just see you later."

James and Sirius exchanged a curious glance as you rushed off. You breathed a sigh of relief the moment you stepped out of the Great Hall and into the corridor.

Finally, peace and quiet.

But then you heard footsteps behind you. You glanced over your shoulder and saw James Potter jogging to catch up.

"Hey!" He called out, clearly not bothered by your earlier panic. "I decided to come with you since I’ve got nothing to do. Figured we could walk to class together after studying." He said it so cheerfully as if you hadn’t just escaped from his company a few moments ago.

You blinked, speechless. You hadn’t expected him to follow you. You didn’t think it would be this hard to get James Potter off your back.

He matched your pace, the two of you walking side by side in the silence that felt anything but comfortable.

And you couldn’t help but wonder, just for a moment, if your life had just become infinitely more complicated than you had planned.

"So, what did you need to study?" James asked, his hands casually tucked into his pockets as he looked at you with that easygoing grin of his.

You quickly scrambled for an answer, the pressure of his gaze making your mind race. "Astronomy!" You replied a bit too quickly, the excitement in your voice betraying your nerves.

"But you've always been good at Astronomy," James raised an eyebrow, his gaze skeptical as he studied you closely.

You tried to shrug it off, but your voice betrayed you. "I'm afraid the subject's been slowly slipping from me," You said, forcing a smile.

His face softened, the skepticism fading into a more understanding look. "Yeah, Professor Sinistra does tend to move quickly," He said, nodding in agreement. "I even tried to cast a time-slowing spell on her once just to get down all my notes."

You laughed, the image of James trying (and likely failing) to slow down the Professor amusing. "And what did you get in return?" you asked, a teasing grin playing on your lips.

"Two weeks of detention," He said, smirking as if the whole thing was just a funny memory. "Totally worth it though."

You giggled, the sound feeling lighter in your chest. "Of course it was."

You both walked in silence next to each other, making your way towards the library. You were glad that the silence was comfortable but a part of you still thought avoiding James was the best plan.

You went to sit at a table before James rushed over to you, pulling your chair out for you as you rolled your eyes, "Do you just want me to keep calling you a gentleman?"

"A bit," He shrugged as he sat down across from you.

You opened your textbook for Astronomy, actually deciding to do work since you were there anyways.

You noticed James making paper planes and attempting to get them to fly over your head. By the fourth one, it hit you square in the forehead, and you let out a dramatic sigh.

"Do you need me to give you a task?" You asked, eyeing him with a look that could only be described as 'toddler supervision.'

James rested his head on his palm, his gaze staring off into space. "I just think there are more exciting things we could be doing right now," He replied with a bored sigh.

"Like what?" You asked, raising an eyebrow and offering him a light smile.

He thought for a moment, then his eyes lit up with mischief. "I could teach you how to play Quidditch!"

You almost felt sick just hearing the words. You shook your head furiously. "I don't know about that," You said, looking back down at your textbook as if you could will the conversation away.

James grabbed your hand in an exaggerated plea. "Come on, it'll be fun!" He cheered, his enthusiasm making you laugh, but before you could say anything else, the librarian shushed him with a fierce look.

You giggled quietly, "Sorry, James, no," You said firmly, scribbling some notes in your textbook.

James pouted dramatically, laying his head down on the desk in defeat. You studied him for a few moments as he huffed, like a child who hadn't gotten his way.

You rolled your eyes, unable to resist the pull of his antics. "I'm not falling for this."

He continued to pout, his face scrunched in exaggerated misery. He pretended to sniffle dramatically, looking up at you with his big hazel eyes.

"No, James, I mean it," You said, trying to keep your tone firm, but the warmth in your voice betrayed you.

--

And next thing you knew, you were on the Quidditch field.

You yelped loudly as you clung to James’s waist, the wind rushing in your face as he zoomed higher into the sky. "We haven't even made it into the air yet!" James laughed excitedly, clearly having the time of his life as you panicked.

"This is still really high!" You cried out, your grip tightening around him. You dared a glance down and saw the ground growing smaller and more distant by the second.

"Close your eyes, I’ve got you!" James shouted reassuringly, though it still sounded somehow delicate, soothing you.

With a deep breath, you squeezed your eyes shut and gripped him even tighter. The wind whipped around you, but James’s steady hold kept you grounded—physically, at least. When you opened your eyes, the sensation of rising fast into the air filled you with a mix of excitement and dread.

James cheered as you both soared, flipping through the air and spiraling in wide, dizzying motions. You screamed, the wind filling your lungs with cold, sharp air.

But then, as if sensing your panic, James calmed things down, steering the broom to glide slowly over the Black Lake.

You exhaled a long breath, your heart rate slowing as you took in the view. From this height, the lake looked more beautiful than you'd ever seen it before, its surface sparkling in the early morning light.

You rested your cheek against his back, staring down at the glistening water below. "This is really pretty," You murmured, surprised at how peaceful it felt up here.

James chuckled lightly. "It's one of my favorite things to look at when I ride." He smiled, but you could feel his warmth, even through the rush of wind. When you lifted your head to look at him, he glanced back with a grin that seemed to make your heart skip a beat.

"Is this where you disappear to during Quidditch games when you're supposed to be looking for the snitch?" You joked, a teasing lilt in your voice.

James's eyes widened dramatically. "You've figured me out!" he yelled, a laugh bursting from him before he abruptly swerved the broom again, causing you both to spiral upward with another whoosh of wind.

You screamed as you were whipped through the air, but James’s laughter was all you could hear. He cheered as the wind carried you higher, and you couldn’t help but laugh, even as you felt the thrill and panic collide inside you.

Seeing James so excited, gliding through the air, eased most of your fear. His laughter, the way he moved so effortlessly—it was impossible not to feel lighter in his presence.

You hadn’t realized until now how much you wanted to see someone smile like that, so carefree and alive. His joy was infectious, and it made you feel like maybe you were starting to enjoy this too.

James’s grin widened when he saw the way you were watching him. “See? Told you it’s fun up here,” he said, his voice full of that same infectious enthusiasm. He spun the broom gently, making you feel the rush of wind again, and for the first time, you didn’t mind it.

You met his gaze, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah, it’s amazing up here,” You admitted.

James’s smile softened as he gently lowered both of you to the ground. You carefully dismounted the broom, your legs still a little shaky from the ride.

As James went to put the broom back in its rightful place, you glanced at your watch—(yes, you had actually bought one)—and your heart dropped. "Shit! James, we’re going to be late!" You yelled, rushing toward him.

He immediately sprinted over as you tossed his bag at him with a hurried "Sorry!" You grabbed yours, slinging it over your shoulder before running up the stairs.

After what felt like an eternity of climbing, you stopped at the first landing to catch your breath.

James huffed, leaning on the railing. "Maybe we should just skip," He suggested, looking at you with a mischievous glint.

You shot him a death glare as the stairs shifted back into place, urging him to hurry. "Not an option, Potter!"

You both barely made it to class, arriving two minutes late. Professor Adair gave you both a disappointed look and gestured to the empty seats in the front. The entire class seemed to turn toward you, exchanging curious glances.

James leaned over and whispered, "Hey, you did great today."

You flushed, feeling a little flustered. "Thanks," You mumbled, half of you still recovering from the flying.

"Think I can have a spot on the team?" You asked, grinning at him.

James grinned back. "Oh, for sure. Your flying skills are impeccable," He said, his tone light and teasing.

"Be careful, Potter. I might take your spot as Seeker." You nudged him, half-joking, but his hand squeezed your thigh lightly in response.

You were about to respond when you saw your friends walking toward you, with Emma trailing behind them. The glare she shot you could've melted stone, and you couldn't help but feel a bit of unease.

"And why were you two late?" Lily asked, her voice mock-stern.

"Well, Mom, we were out flying," James said with a dramatic pout, making you laugh.

Lily looked at you, wide-eyed. "You went flying?"

"How did you make her do that?" Remus asked, half-sitting on his chair in front of you as Sirius snored, head resting on his shoulder.

"I don’t think I’ve ever even seen Y/N jump ," Marlene chimed in, snickering.

You shot her a look, but the corner of your lips twitched. "It was a one-time thing."

"Oh, yeah?" James smirked, nudging you with his shoulder. "I think there’s still more flying to do," He teased, and you giggled.

Your friends exchanged suspicious glances, but Emma’s sour expression cut through the moment. She stepped forward, eyes fixed on James, her voice syrupy sweet. "Well, we’re thinking about going to Hogsmeade tonight," she said, ignoring you completely.

"Sounds fun," You said casually, but Emma’s smile faltered slightly.

Sirius yawned, not looking up from where he was practically asleep on Remus’s shoulder. "So, are you two in?"

James looked at you with a grin. "If M’lady is."

"Sure, why not?" You responded lightly.

Emma looked like she was about to cast the Killing Curse right there, but she held it together, forcing a fake smile. "Great, it’s a date," She said, her eyes burning into you.

You had a feeling that tonight was going to be very interesting.

[aliceoseman]

what were the messages on the card for charlie when he was in the clinic? i couldn’t work them all out. ps- as someone who had ocd and had a bad way of coping your writing really is so incredible, i count myself lucky everyday to have those stories and a friend group like i see on your show, seeing scars on screen healed the ashamed 16yr old in me 🌸

I'm so glad to hear that Heartstopper has helped you!! ❤️

So the situation with the card was that we realised very very shortly before we shot the scene that we didn't have any content for the card, so a crew member from the art department asked me on set if I could very quickly write the messages, which I did in my notes app, and then sent that as a screenshot to him where he (or someone on his team, I can't confirm) wrote them into the card itself. I didn't get a photo of the finished card because it all happened very fast and suddenly we were shooting the scene! I don't think I even saw the card interior until it was literally on set. But I do still have the note on my phone with all of the messages written out. It's a shame they didn't all appear on screen but hey, sometimes not every detail makes it into the final thing! Here they all are:

Nick

Hi Char,

You are so strong and you will get through this because you’re amazing.

I love you so so much and I’m always here for you. I miss you and I can’t wait for you to come home when you’re ready to. I love you.

Love Nick x

Tao

Charlie,

School is so weird without my bff. I miss you so much little guy. Please look after yourself or I will be very cross. Love you so much Charlie. And hope you like your present, I can’t wait to hear what you think!

Tao xxx

Elle

Dear Charlie,

We all love you so much and can’t wait to see you soon. I’m so sorry things have been so hard. Things will get better, I know it. I can’t wait for Christmas movie nights with you and the boys!

Elle 

Tara

Hi Charlie,

Sending you so much love and strength. You’re an incredible person and we all care about you so much. I really hope you feel better soon. Love you lots and lots.

Tara xx

Darcy

Hey Charlie,

Life can be so shit sometimes but we will always fight back!! You’re one of the coolest people I know and you’re gonna come back more powerful than ever.

Love you!!!

Darcy

Imogen

Dear Charlie,

Love you so much! You’re an incredible and inspiring person and what you’re going through now will only make you stronger.

#warrior

Lots of love,

Imogen xxxx

Sahar

Charlie!

I miss my music buddy! I miss our chats about good bands. I really hope you’re doing okay and starting to feel better. Love you loads pal!

Sahar x 

Isaac

Hey Charlie,

Miss you so so much. I’m so sorry I didn't try and help more, but the fact that you asked for help yourself just goes to show what a strong person you are. I love you. Get back here soon so we can watch Emma again.

Love Isaac x

[blue-lights-to-dreams]

Golden Light // H.S.

synopsis: you go on a blind date with Harry at your best friend's insistence and enjoy it much more than you expected.

wc: 3.9k

a/n: i hope you guys enjoy this! i haven't written fic in a hot minute, so let me know what you think! this will likely have a part 2 where the exciting stuff happens, but writing even this much took me forever so i wanted to share before the Christmas mentions became irrelevant, lol!

The streets of New York City are beautiful this time of year. Christmas lights twinkle in nearly every retail storefront, some even including a dusting of ripped-up cotton balls and other snow-like materials. Just ignore the grey sludge coating the streets.

You were never one for holiday cheer, and today was no exception. Despite thinking the same of every single day, you’ve had what you would consider the longest day of your life. Your first meeting ran late by just a few minutes, but even this was enough to push your calendar so far off that you needed to reschedule your final call with the client you’d been waiting almost a month to meet with.

There was nothing more in this world you wanted to do than curl up in bed with a bottle of wine and a silk eye mask. But, here you were, trudging down the streets of New York City in your slightly uncomfortable heels, trying to dodge puddles, slush, and other mysterious substances on the sidewalk, on your way to a blind date. Emma had set you up with a friend of her boyfriend��s, and she’d made you promise you’d give him a chance.

Your last relationship had ended with a bang after you went to his apartment to surprise him after getting out of work early one afternoon, only to find him in bed with a blonde girl you never did learn the name of. 

You could easily find a man to wake up to the next morning, but after years of running your own business, it wasn’t as simple as walking into a bar to meet Mr. Right. You’d dated enough men with little ambition; you needed someone who had drive– had success.

All you knew about your date for the night was his name was Harry, he was a record executive, and, according to Emma, he was hot.

The pit in your stomach only grew as you approached Bella Napoli. It didn’t help you’d spent the last six blocks trying to lift your dress and nearly-floor-length coat high enough to keep it out of the puddles.

The little blue location dot on your maps app glided closer to the restaurant with each step you took, nearly there - mist ghosted over your nose with each exhale, doing nothing to keep it warm in the frigid weather of the city, and you couldn’t wait to get inside.

Finally, you spotted the marquee sign affixed to the small brick building half a block up, signaling the end of your journey. The glass-front double doors opened easily under your hasty pull, eager to feel the heat of the brick building’s furnace.

“Good evening, ma’am,” the hostess greeted from behind her podium. She appeared to be in her early twenties, with long blonde hair and prominent cheekbones.

“Good evening, I have a reservation under (Y/L/N),” you brushed stray snowflakes off of your wool coat. Emma had ensured she would let Harry know the reservation would be under your name, and you hoped she hadn’t forgotten.

“Ah, yes, table for two? Right this way.” The young woman stepped from behind the podium and began heading toward the main dining area. You followed her as she snaked around the tables full of affluently dressed couples and businessmen in suits, reaching a small archway leading into a more dimly-lit section of the restaurant. 

She led you to a booth in the corner with velvet seats and matching curtains, held open by small hooks on either side - out of sight from most of the other patrons in the section, who didn’t seem to be paying any mind to you anyway. A small candle sat between two menus, adjacent to a traditional silverware layout and an empty highball glass on either side of the booth.

You slid onto the bench facing the room’s entrance as the hostess filled each glass with ice water. She nodded as you thanked her and informed her a man by the name of Harry should be arriving soon to join you. Just in case Emma had forgotten.

The menu was short but obviously well-curated. The wine list was almost twice the length of the food menu - just how you liked it. You skimmed the offerings, deciding on a merlot of the second-highest price point. Your anxiety still made itself known in the way your stomach was twisting. You checked the time. It was 5:58 pm - still two minutes early. You hoped the wine would drown the butterflies (or maybe moths) in your stomach.

Your eyes returned to the restaurant’s food offerings but were again drawn upwards as another person sauntered into the secluded section of the restaurant. His pale grey, half-unbuttoned silk shirt settled just under the gold cross necklace grazing the indent between his pecs. A blazer of a much darker grey draped his shoulders, matching the straight-legged trousers just long enough to only allow the front of his patent-leather black loafers to peek out from under them. 

The air suddenly felt heavy, like you couldn’t get a breath in. Who is the lucky lady he’s here with tonight? Your eyes darted around the section, trying to find his date, but coming up empty. 

Shit, is this Harry?

Your fears are confirmed as you realize the hostess had entered the room a bit ahead of him and was leading him to your booth. The poor girl looked entirely flustered.

“Here you are, sir. Your waitress will be over shortly to grab your drink orders,” she squeaked, turning on her heels and scurrying away as quickly as possible.

You smiled at him as you shuffled out of the booth and rose to your feet, trying to seem much more confident than you were. You reached about the height of his shoulder in your heels.

“You must be (Y/N),” he spoke with a slight smile, glancing at your attire before returning his eyes to meet yours.

“That would be me. And you must be Harry.” You smiled back at him, subconsciously smoothing out the part of the dress resting on your hips.

Harry took a step toward you with arms extended, pulling you into an easy hug, His arms wrapped tightly around your shoulders and yours around his waist. He smelled like an intoxicating mix of vanilla, patchouli, and musk. Expensive. Even just brushing your fingers across his suit jacket as he pulled away, the feel of the fibers suggested it had also not been cheap.

“You look stunning. I love the color of your dress,” he complimented, pulling back slightly with his hand hovering over your waist. “It looks great on you.”

“Thank you, it was actually a gift from my mother.” Compliment-taking was not your forte.

“Well, she has great taste. Shall we?” He motioned toward the set table, waiting for you to take your seat before sliding into the bench on the opposite side. “Have you been here before?”

“I haven’t, but I’ve heard great things. Have you?” His ring-clad fingers picked up the beverage menu in front of him as you spoke.

“I have, it’s one of my favorites.” That must have been why he suggested it.

“Is the Merlot any good? That’s what I was thinking of ordering, but I’m open to suggestions.” You played with the seam of your dress under the table absentmindedly.

“Now that, I haven’t had. I’m more of a white wine guy myself. I’m a fan of the Riesling.”

“Really? My first guess would have been whiskey, honestly.” There exists a pattern in these kinds of men - they always drank some very expensive whiskey they needed to tell you all about, as if it didn’t taste like smoke-flavored lighter fluid.

“I tend to prefer a sweeter taste,” his eyebrows twitched as he raised the glass of water to his lips. You nodded before the two of you fell into a comfortable silence, taking time to browse the food menu.

It wasn’t very extensive, with a few choices to pick from each protein category. You settled on a grilled chicken tagliatelle with a cream sauce, hoping it would pair well with the wine.

“Hi, my name is Danielle and I’ll be taking care of you this evening,” a voice burst your bubble of concentration, “have we decided on what we’d like to drink?”

You recited your wine order first, with Harry following shortly after. The waitress jotted down your selections in her notepad before exiting the room with a promise to be back to take your food orders shortly.

“So, Emma said you work in marketing?” he spoke slowly. His accent was thick, only further drawing you into the conversation.

“PR, actually,” you replied, “I have my own firm, with a few employees. I love it.”

“That’s amazing,” he sounded sincere. “How long have you been in PR?”

“Almost a decade, but I’ve had the firm for a little over 3 years. At first, it was just myself operating out of my apartment, but we’ve been able to build up some clientele and move to an actual office space. Emma said you work for Atlas Sound, right?” you shifted the conversation away from yourself, curious about what exactly came with being a record executive.

“That’s right. I’m mostly in charge of production but I help out with some of the publishing aspects as well.”

“Ah, so no talent scouting? I was hoping this could be my big break…” you mused, narrowing your eyes at him. Harry chuckled, flashing the smile you’d found yourself dead set on seeing more of. 

“No, no, unfortunately, that’s not me, but I may know some people who could help. Let me guess, rap?”

You almost choked on the water you’d just taken a sip of, but managed to swallow it before the laugh burst from your throat. It caught you off guard - Harry honestly didn’t look like he would even know what rap is. A silly notion, given his career, but true anyway.

“You have a beautiful laugh,” Harry stated sincerely, and your heart just about stopped. 

Before you got the chance to respond, a full wine glass was placed in front of each of you. You hadn’t even noticed the waitress had come back. “Here are those drinks. Did we decide on what we’d like to eat? I can make some suggestions if you’re not sure what to get…”

It appeared as if she’d forgotten you were even in the room with the way she was staring directly at Harry. You couldn’t blame the girl - you’d been staring too - but she could definitely tell the two of you were on a date, so she could have at least been a little more subtle.

Harry smiled politely (and briefly) at her before turning his attention back to you to confirm you were ready to order. You both relayed your choices to the waitress, and you appreciated that Harry did not seem like he was interested in entertaining her advances.

“Anyways, where were we…” he smiled again, and your heart lurched.

Conversation flowed smoothly between the two of you, aided by the wine in your glasses. You found yourself getting less and less nervous about him not being the right fit, but more and more nervous you were somehow making a fool of yourself. 

The story of how one of your interns accidentally jammed the copier so badly you had to buy a completely new unit made Harry laugh loudly. It was one of many stories you had from your job that were definitely funnier in retrospect than they were as they happened. You were aware you’d talked a lot so far, but you couldn’t help it. The way Harry spoke was attractive, but the way he listened was even better. He seemed genuinely interested in the stories you told, maintaining eye contact, nodding in the right spots, and asking thoughtful follow-up questions. It had been a while since you’d had a date genuinely listen to you, and it was refreshing. 

He asked more about your job, and you found yourself telling him how as much as you like being “in charge” and able to have control over your firm, sometimes it was incredibly stressful, especially in emergencies. He could see the stress that followed you home every day seep back into your expression, despite you trying your best not to let it show.

His ring-clad hand slid across the table, fingers gently entwining with yours and giving them a quick squeeze.

“You know, I think you’re brave for taking that risk. You should be proud of what you’ve built.” The eye contact he made with you as he spoke was intense, with sincerity behind his words. His hand was warm, contrasting the cool feeling of the metal rings, and you subconsciously squeezed it back in an attempt to keep it where it was. Luckily, your hands stayed intertwined for another couple of minutes as you expressed your appreciation for his kindness and shifted the conversation back to his job until your food was in front of you.

The meals were delicious, just as Harry had promised. He’d ordered a mushroom risotto that looked delicious, and your pasta tasted perfect with the wine you’d chosen. Good job, self.

Soon, you found your plate nearly empty and your body warm from the alcohol. Your thoughts felt slightly fuzzy, and you caught yourself staring a little too long at the rings on Harry’s right hand, as well as the fingers adorning them. The muscles flexed as he moved his hands while speaking, and you couldn’t seem to tear your eyes away. You knew how his hand felt in yours, but how would it feel touching your cheek, against your back, gripping your - 

“Did you save room for dessert? The tiramisu is incredible.” Harry’s voice broke your train of thought, and you quickly averted your eyes back to his. What seemed like a slight smirk played on his face, but you couldn’t tell if it was because he’d noticed the staring, or if the alcohol was just affecting him as well. You prayed for the latter.

“That sounds great, but I can probably only take a few bites. Would you want to share a piece?” you suggested, much too full for an entire dessert to yourself.

“I’d love to.” Harry absentmindedly tapped his fingers against the table in a rhythm you couldn’t place, not helping your attempts not to stare. “So, tell me more about that yoga class?”

The conversation flowed again, with Harry ordering dessert when the waitress stopped by. Of course, you were just as interested in his words as he was in yours, hanging on his every accented sentence. He was a captivating storyteller and his facial expressions were no different - you loved how his eyes lit up at the good parts and narrowed at the bad in the story. The slight scruff on his face complimented the way his mouth moved as it formed words, drawing you closer. How would they feel against your own lips, you wondered? 

You could hear the words he was saying, but you weren’t fully listening as he continued telling you about the time he got a little too drunk at a friend’s birthday party and ended up volunteering to give a speech he had in no way prepared for. It was a great story, very funny, but your mind was otherwise preoccupied. Wine always made you… flirty.

Soon, the tiramisu was in front of you. This, too, looked delicious - Harry was right again.

“Would you like the first bite?” He offered, picking up one of the small forks laid out on the plate and scooping a bite of the dessert onto it.

“Well, ladies first I suppose,” you joked. You parted your mouth slightly as you leaned forward, waiting for him to place the fork on your tongue. What you weren’t expecting was for his other hand to reach out and lightly grasp your jaw, thumb on your chin to hold your mouth farther open. A choked gasp escaped your lips at the same time the sweet cake hit your tongue, but you could barely taste it, too distracted by the skin contact. Again, his eyes didn’t leave yours as he allowed your mouth to close and pulled his hand away from your face.

“Well? How is it?” he asked, with a definite smirk this time. 

You tried to compose yourself before answering, swallowing the dessert and the lump that had formed in your throat. “It’s good… really good.” Your voice came out breathier than you intended, and you blinked heavily a couple of times, trying to kickstart the part of your brain that could think of anything except what you’d like to do with the gorgeous man sitting in front of you.

Harry took his own bite next, letting his eyes flutter shut as his mouth closed around the fork. His long eyelashes rested atop his strong cheekbones, the same ones you almost had to physically stop yourself from reaching over to brush your fingertips over. His lips were a stunning, dark shade of red, still slightly wet from the wine he’d been enjoying.

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed the bite, slightly brushing against the collar of his shirt. Seafoam green eyes made contact with yours as he opened them again, and a small smile graced his face as he realized you’d been watching him intently.

“You’re right, it is really good.” Your heart raced under the fervency of his gaze. He was staring into you like he wanted to read the thoughts echoing in your brain. “Would you like another bite?”

“Sure, but I can feed myself this one if you like,” you attempted to lighten the intense mood that had befallen your booth so you might actually be able to catch your breath,

“That won’t be necessary, I was quite enjoying myself,” Harry mused, refusing to break eye contact until you did. He scooped another bite onto the fork, reaching over to brush a stray strand of hair behind your ear before resuming his grip on your jaw and returning the fork to your lips. He felt your jaw flex as you chewed and swallowed the bite, but didn’t take his hand off of your face. Instead, he brought his thumb back to your lips and brushed below them gently, careful not to smudge your lipstick. 

He brought his thumb back to his mouth and slowly closed his lips around the pad of it, a half-smile tugging at his lips at your bewildered expression. “Sorry, you had a little something there. I figured I’d get it for you.”

You nodded, taking a deep breath instead of attempting to utter a response.

He took another bite himself before offering you another, which you obliged with little hesitation.

“You know, Harry, you need to be careful feeding me like this or I’ll get used to it.” Another feeble attempt to ease the tension and stop acting like a flustered teenager.

“I wouldn’t mind that,” he murmured, voice sincere and slow, laced with something that sent a shiver down your spine, “if it means I keep getting to see your cheeks flush.”

He’d noticed how your body was responding to him, whether or not you tried to hide it. Your face burned again, sinking further into the booth behind you in slight embarrassment.

“Well, it doesn’t help that I’m on a date with an attractive man who’s feeding me tiramisu. I think that’s every woman’s dream.”

“So it’s working?” His face glowed in the candlelight, a smirk on his face but a subtle vulnerability behind his eyes.

You knew what he was implying, but wanted to regain some of the power you’d lost by being so flustered. “Maybe.”

“That’s not good enough for me. I need a yes.” He needed confirmation that you were on the same page.

“And what exactly am I saying yes to?” A sip of wine ran down your throat as you awaited his response.

“To letting me walk you home after this,” Harry stated bluntly, scanning your face for your reaction. You couldn’t help the way your face flushed, but you held your composure, leaning back casually against the booth behind you as you pretended to mull it over. You already knew what you wanted.

“Alright, Harry,” you smirked, bringing the wine glass to your lips once more, “let’s see where the night takes us.”

- - - - - - - - - - 

“God, it’s freezing out here,” you groaned, dodging patches of ice. You were nearly home, your apartment building visible up the street.

Harry had grabbed your hand under the guise of keeping it warm a few minutes ago, something you were grateful for now as you gripped it tightly, trying to navigate the snow-covered ground in heels with little traction. He’d offered to call an Uber, but you wanted some more time with him without a driver listening in on your conversation.

As you approached the building, your imagination ran with thoughts of getting him upstairs, into your apartment, into your living room… 

Before you could get too far, you were at the front door. Your free hand patted over the pockets of your jacket to ensure that you had your keys and found them in your left pocket.

“I had a great time with you tonight, Y/N,” Harry turned to face you, not letting go of your hand. “I’d love to do this again, sometime, if you’d be interested.”

A slight flush now graced his face, glancing at the ground as he awaited your response.

“I had a lovely time. I’d love to see you again,” you confirmed quickly, not letting him worry for too long.

He was beaming now, allowing you to admire his prominent dimples. Your heart skipped a beat and you couldn’t help but smile right back at the sight.

“There’s that beautiful smile again,” he quipped. His free hand reached for your jaw, cradling it again as you both continued to grin at each other for a few moments. A silence fell upon you again, and Harry’s eyes searched yours for a second before flickering to your lips, which had slowly returned to a resting state. As he moved his gaze back up, your eyes gleamed with the reflections of Christmas lights and were swimming with the need for more contact with him. He inhaled slowly, nervously, before exhaling sharply. “Can I kiss you?”

You nodded quickly, gripping his collar to pull him closer before his mouth met yours. Electricity sparked between the two of you, his luscious lips colliding with yours over and over again, like he couldn’t get enough of you. The kiss started slow, but quickly became deeper, more desperate, as he gripped your waist tightly and pulled you close to him. Your hands searched for solace, moving from his collar to his cheeks before lightly running through the hair at the back of his neck.

He tore his lips away from yours but didn’t stray far, pressing his forehead against yours as you both tried to catch your breath. You could see both of your small pants in the air as they fogged due to the cold. A small smile played on each of your lips, and you just knew your lipstick was half-gone because you could definitely see some of it on Harry.

“You know,” you pulled away, straightening your stance confidently, “I have a bottle of wine upstairs if you’d like to help me drink it.”

Harry grinned. “I would love to.”

[urdreamydoodles]

hi! may i request a x-men headcanon where their SO protects them during a battle/fight? i love the idea of these oh so powerful characters being protected

X-Men x Reader (Part.1)

You protect them during a fight

Characters: Logan Howlett, Remy LeBeau, Kurt Wagner, Scott Summers, Jean Grey, Ororo Munroe, Rogue, Erik Lehnsherr, Charles Xavier, Bobby Drake, Wanda Maximoff, Pietro Maximoff, Emma Frost, Laura Kinney & Wade Wilson

Hi everyone. As you have seen the requests are closed, because I need to catch up first before reopening them. I hope you understand. And thank you Anon, I love this prompt.

Logan Howlett aka. Wolverine

- Logan had always been the one protecting you. It was his default mode: putting himself between you and any threat without hesitation. So when you threw yourself in front of him during a fight, claws and bullets flying, he froze for a split second. “What the hell are you doing?!” he growled, his voice a mix of anger and panic. It wasn’t fear for himself—it was fear for you.

- You didn’t answer, focusing on deflecting an incoming blow with whatever weapon you had on hand. The sight of you so fiercely determined to keep him safe left Logan stunned, his heightened senses zeroing in on the rapid beat of your heart. He hated that you were putting yourself in danger, but a small, buried part of him felt something else—pride.

- After the fight, Logan pulled you aside, his hands gripping your shoulders tightly. “You’re outta your damn mind,” he snarled, though his eyes betrayed his worry. “You don’t need to protect me—I’m the one who does that, got it?” You could see the conflict in him, the way his gruff exterior was cracking under the weight of his feelings for you.

- Later that night, Logan found you tending to your own wounds, stubborn as ever. He sat beside you, quiet for once. “Look, I get it,” he said, his voice low. “I don’t like seein’ you get hurt for me. But… thanks.” It was rare for Logan to express gratitude so openly, and the way he looked at you then—like you were the strongest person he’d ever met—made your heart ache in the best way.

- From then on, Logan learned to accept that you weren’t someone who would just stand by when he was in danger. “You’re a pain in my ass,” he’d mutter whenever you stepped in to protect him again, though his smirk betrayed his true feelings. He respected you even more for it, knowing you’d fight for him as fiercely as he’d fight for you.

Remy LeBeau aka. Gambit

- Remy was the master of charm and cunning, always finding a way to dodge danger or talk his way out of a fight. So when you charged in to shield him from an energy blast mid-battle, he was caught completely off guard. “Chérie, what you doin’?” he called, his voice tinged with disbelief and worry as he watched you take the brunt of the attack.

- You shrugged it off, focusing on getting him to safety. Remy, who had always prided himself on being in control, felt an unfamiliar pang of vulnerability. The sight of you putting yourself on the line for him stirred something deep within—a mixture of guilt and admiration.

- After the fight, Remy found you leaning against a wall, catching your breath. He approached you with his usual swagger, though his red-on-black eyes betrayed his concern. “Y’know, I’m supposed to be the knight in shining armor, non?” he teased, but his tone was softer than usual. He reached out, brushing a stray hair from your face. “Don’t go scarin’ me like dat again, yeah?”

- That night, Remy couldn’t help but replay the moment in his mind. It wasn’t often that someone would risk themselves for him, and it made him realize just how much you meant to him. He pulled you close, his hand resting on the small of your back. “You got a heart as big as the Mississippi, mon amour,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “But let me take care o’ you next time.”

- From then on, Remy made it his mission to protect you just as fiercely as you protected him. Still, whenever you stepped in to save him during a fight, he couldn’t help but grin. “Dat’s my love,” he’d say with a wink, his pride in you shining through even in the heat of battle.

Kurt Wagner aka. Nightcrawler

- Kurt was no stranger to danger, his agility and teleportation making him a formidable opponent in any fight. But when he found himself cornered by an enemy, only to see you teleport—or sprint—into harm’s way to shield him, his golden eyes widened in shock. “Mein Schatz, nein!” he cried, reaching for you instinctively, his heart racing at the sight of you defending him.

- You fought with a determination that left Kurt breathless, your movements precise and unyielding. For once, the usually nimble and quick-witted mutant found himself at a loss for words. The way you protected him, fearless and selfless, struck a chord deep within him.

- After the dust settled, Kurt appeared at your side in an instant, his hands gently checking you for injuries. “Why would you do that for me?” he asked, his voice soft yet trembling with emotion. When you gestured or explained that you’d do anything to keep him safe, his heart swelled with a mixture of love and guilt. “You are too precious to me,” he said, his tail curling around your waist protectively.

- That evening, Kurt refused to leave your side. He wrapped you in his arms, his warmth and the faint scent of brimstone enveloping you. “You are my everything,” he murmured, his fingers tracing soothing patterns along your back. “But please, promise me you will be careful. I could not bear to lose you.”

- From then on, Kurt saw you not just as his partner but as his equal in every sense. He admired your bravery and strength, though he couldn’t help but worry whenever you put yourself in harm’s way for him. “You are my hero,” he’d tell you with a teasing smile, though the sincerity in his voice made it clear he truly meant it.

Scott Summers aka. Cyclops

- Scott was used to being the leader, the one responsible for keeping everyone safe. So when you leapt in front of him to block an attack during a heated battle, his usually composed demeanor cracked. “What are you doing?!” he shouted, his voice filled with both anger and fear as he fired a concussive blast to finish off the threat.

- Watching you fight to protect him stirred a whirlwind of emotions in Scott. He admired your courage, but the sight of you putting yourself at risk for his sake left him shaken. “You shouldn’t have done that,” he said firmly once the fight was over, though his hands were trembling as he reached for you.

- You tried to explain that you couldn’t stand by and watch him get hurt, but Scott’s jaw tightened, his concern overshadowing his usual logical demeanor. “I’m supposed to protect you,” he insisted, though the gratitude in his eyes betrayed his words. He hated feeling vulnerable, but he couldn’t deny how much your actions meant to him.

- Later that night, Scott found you in the med bay, patching up a minor wound. He sat beside you, his hand covering yours. “You’re incredible, you know that?” he said quietly, his voice softening. “But please, don’t scare me like that again.” His lips brushed against your forehead, a rare moment of tenderness from the stoic leader.

- From that moment on, Scott’s respect for you deepened even further. He still tried to protect you whenever he could, but he also learned to trust your strength. “You’re my partner,” he said one day, his hand finding yours. “We protect each other.” His smile was small but genuine, a reflection of the unshakable bond you’d built together.

- Jean was always the empathetic one, attuned to the emotions and thoughts of those she cared about. During a mission gone sideways, an enemy blast was heading straight for her. Before she could react, you threw yourself in the line of fire, your shield or power absorbing the impact. Jean’s green eyes widened, and for a moment, all she could feel was panic. “What were you thinking?!” her voice echoed telepathically and out loud simultaneously, both scolding and filled with fear.

Jean Grey aka. Marvel Girl / Phoenix

- The battle continued, but Jean’s focus kept flickering back to you. Even as she unleashed telekinetic waves and telepathic strikes, her thoughts were drawn to how recklessly you had acted for her sake. When the fight was over, she rushed to your side, her hands trembling as she checked you over. “You’re okay,” she breathed, relief washing over her like a wave. But then her tone shifted, more serious. “You’re never doing that again.”

- Back at the mansion, Jean sat with you in the med bay, her fingers brushing over your bandaged arm. “You know I can take care of myself,” she said softly. “But the fact that you stepped in… it means everything to me.” Her emotions were a mix of guilt and admiration, and her psychic connection to you buzzed with a warmth that made your heart ache.

- That evening, Jean made sure you rested, though she stayed by your side the entire time. “You’re stronger than you think,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “But don’t think for a second that I’d ever let something happen to you. You’re my everything.” Her confession was quiet but sincere, and the glow of her powers seemed softer, more intimate, in the dim light.

- From then on, Jean’s respect for you deepened even further. While she still tried to shield you during battles, she also began to see you as her equal, someone she could rely on. “You’re my partner in every way,” she told you one day, her telepathic voice brushing against your mind like a gentle caress. “We protect each other, always.”

- Ororo was grace and power incarnate, her calm exterior rarely breaking even in the most chaotic situations. But when a battle turned dire and an enemy aimed for her while her back was turned, you didn’t hesitate. Throwing yourself in harm’s way, you used every ounce of your strength to protect her. Lightning crackled in the air as Ororo spun around, her silver eyes wide with shock and fury. “Why would you do that?!” she demanded, her voice carrying the weight of a storm.

Ororo Munroe aka. Storm

- Even as the fight raged on, Ororo’s attention kept straying to you, her heart pounding in a way she hadn’t felt in years. The idea of you getting hurt for her sake was unbearable, and yet, she couldn’t deny the overwhelming respect she felt for your bravery. When the battle ended, she landed gracefully beside you, her hands glowing faintly as she helped heal your wounds with a soft breeze.

- “You could have been seriously hurt,” Ororo said, her tone softer now but still laced with worry. She cupped your face gently, her thumb brushing over your cheek. “You mean too much to me to take such risks.” Her words were both a reprimand and a confession, her eyes reflecting the depth of her feelings for you.

- That night, Ororo brought you to her greenhouse, the air filled with the scent of blooming flowers and fresh rain. “I’ve always believed in protecting those I care about,” she said, her voice like a melody. “But you… you’ve shown me that love is a two-way street.” Her fingers intertwined with yours as she smiled, a rare and genuine expression of vulnerability.

- From that moment on, Ororo saw you as her equal, someone she could rely on even in the most dangerous situations. “You’re as fierce as the storm itself,” she told you one day, her voice filled with pride. “And I’ll always be grateful to have you by my side.”

- Rogue had always been careful about keeping people at a distance, her powers making physical contact a constant danger. But when a fight turned south and an enemy got the upper hand, you didn’t hesitate to step in and protect her. You took the blow meant for her, even though it left you gasping for breath. “What the hell are you doin’, sugar?!” Rogue shouted, her Southern accent thick with worry as she fought to keep the attackers at bay.

Anna Marie aka. Rogue

- After the fight, Rogue knelt beside you, her gloved hands hovering over your injuries. “Why would you do that?” she asked, her voice cracking. “I’m the one who’s supposed to be protectin’ you.” Her green eyes shimmered with unshed tears, the vulnerability in her expression breaking your heart.

- Back at the mansion, Rogue stayed by your side, refusing to leave until she was sure you were okay. “You’re the stubbornest person I’ve ever met,” she said with a shaky laugh, brushing a strand of hair from your face with her gloved fingers. “But I guess that’s one o’ the reasons I love you.” Her confession was quiet, almost hesitant, but the look in her eyes left no room for doubt.

- That evening, Rogue sat with you on the porch, the night air cool against your skin. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?” she said, her voice soft. “I’ve spent so long keepin’ people at arm’s length, afraid of hurtin’ ‘em. But you… you make me wanna take the risk.” She reached for your hand, her glove the only barrier between your skin and hers, but the connection was still electric.

- From then on, Rogue made it clear that she would do anything to keep you safe, even as she learned to trust your strength. “We’re a team, sugar,” she said one day, her smile warm and genuine. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

- Erik was used to being the protector, his mastery over magnetism making him a force to be reckoned with. So when you stepped in to shield him during a heated battle, deflecting an attack with your own powers or sheer determination, he was caught completely off guard. “Are you mad?” he demanded, his voice a mix of anger and concern as he pulled you behind him.

Erik Lehnsherr aka. Magneto

- Even as he fought off the remaining enemies, Erik couldn’t shake the image of you standing so bravely in front of him. The thought of you risking yourself for his sake stirred emotions he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in years—fear, admiration, and an aching tenderness.

- After the fight, Erik confronted you, his expression stern but his eyes betraying his worry. “Do you have any idea what could have happened to you?” he asked, his voice low. When you explained your actions, his jaw tightened, and he looked away, struggling to hide the vulnerability in his expression. “You’re remarkable,” he finally admitted, his voice soft. “But reckless.”

- That night, Erik sat with you in his study, the room filled with the soft hum of his powers as he absentmindedly manipulated a small piece of metal. “You remind me of why I fight,” he said, his voice thoughtful. “You make me believe in something greater than myself.” His confession was uncharacteristically open, and the way he looked at you then made your heart race.

- From that moment on, Erik began to see you as his equal, someone he could trust and rely on. While he still tried to protect you during battles, he also respected your strength and determination. “Together, we’re unstoppable,” he told you one day, his hand resting on yours. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

- Charles had always prided himself on being the one who guided and protected others, both physically and mentally. During a heated skirmish, when the enemy targeted him while he was focused on neutralizing their minds, you acted without hesitation. You threw yourself into the fray, using your powers or sheer determination to shield him from harm. When the dust settled, Charles wheeled himself over to you, his face pale. “You could have been seriously injured,” he said softly, though his tone carried a mix of gratitude and concern.

Charles Xavier aka. Professor X

- Throughout the aftermath of the fight, Charles kept his composure, but his worry lingered. As the team regrouped, he observed you quietly, his telepathic thoughts touching yours with gentle reassurance. Later, when the others left, he finally addressed you. “Why would you take such a risk for me?” he asked, his blue eyes searching yours for an answer. When you replied that you’d do it again without question, he sighed, a small, bittersweet smile gracing his face.

- Back at the mansion, Charles invited you to his study. “You know,” he began, fingers steepled in thought, “I’ve spent so much time protecting others that I’ve forgotten what it feels like to have someone protect me.” There was a vulnerability in his words that surprised you. “Thank you,” he added, his voice quiet but full of emotion.

- Over the following days, Charles couldn’t help but admire your bravery. He found himself drawn to your selflessness and began to see you in a new light. One evening, as the two of you sat by the fire, he finally admitted, “I’ve grown quite attached to you. More than I ever expected.” His confession was gentle but sincere, his psychic presence brushing against your mind like a warm embrace.

- From that point on, Charles became even more protective of you, though he also respected your strength and independence. “We’re stronger together,” he said one day, taking your hand in his. “And I promise, I’ll do everything in my power to keep you safe—just as you’ve done for me.”

- Bobby had always been the joker of the group, rarely taking anything too seriously. But during a particularly chaotic fight, when an enemy’s attack veered toward him, he was caught off guard. Before he could react, you stepped in, using your quick thinking and courage to protect him. “Whoa, whoa, what are you doing?!” he shouted, his voice tinged with panic as he watched you take the brunt of the attack.

Bobby Drake aka. Iceman

- After the battle, Bobby rushed to your side, his usual playful demeanor replaced with genuine concern. “Are you okay?” he asked, his hands hovering over you as if afraid to touch you. When you shrugged it off and made a joke, he blinked, then shook his head. “I should be the one cracking jokes, not you,” he muttered, though his grin was tinged with guilt.

- Back at the mansion, Bobby stayed close, making sure you were patched up and comfortable. “You know,” he said, trying to sound casual, “you’re kind of amazing. Stupidly reckless, but amazing.” He fiddled with an ice construct in his hands, his usual confidence giving way to a rare vulnerability. “I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you.”

- Over the next few days, Bobby couldn’t stop thinking about what you’d done for him. He started showing up more often, finding excuses to be around you. One night, as you were watching a movie together, he finally blurted out, “Okay, so maybe I kinda like you. A lot.” His cheeks flushed, and he looked away, pretending to focus on his popcorn.

- From then on, Bobby made it his mission to keep you safe, though he never stopped teasing you about your heroic antics. “You’re my favorite reckless hero,” he said one day, throwing an arm around your shoulders. “But don’t think for a second that I’m letting you pull a stunt like that again.”

- Wanda had always carried the weight of her powers, her ability to reshape reality making her a target in almost every battle. During one such fight, when an enemy’s attack threatened to overwhelm her, you stepped in, using everything you had to protect her. “What are you doing?!” she shouted, her voice breaking as she watched you face the danger meant for her. Her chaos magic surged uncontrollably in response, red energy crackling in the air.

Wanda Maximoff aka. The Scarlet Witch

- After the fight, Wanda rushed to your side, her hands trembling as she checked for injuries. “You didn’t have to do that,” she said, her voice soft but laced with worry. When you explained that you couldn’t stand by and do nothing, her expression shifted to one of awe and guilt. “You’re incredible,” she murmured, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

- Back at the mansion, Wanda couldn’t seem to leave your side. She sat with you in the quiet of her room, her fingers tracing patterns in the air as she used her magic to soothe your aches. “I’ve always been the one who protects others,” she said softly. “But you… you’ve turned that upside down.” Her eyes met yours, filled with an emotion she couldn’t quite put into words.

- As days passed, Wanda’s feelings for you only deepened. She found herself opening up to you in ways she hadn’t with anyone else, sharing her fears and vulnerabilities. One evening, as you both watched the stars from the mansion roof, she took your hand in hers. “You make me feel safe,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “And that’s not something I’m used to.”

- From then on, Wanda became fiercely protective of you, though she also began to trust in your strength. “We’re a team,” she said one day, her magic swirling around her fingers like a promise. “And I won’t let anything happen to you. Not ever.”

- Pietro was always the fastest, the one who could outmaneuver danger in the blink of an eye. So when a fight took a dangerous turn and you leaped in to protect him, he was stunned. “Are you crazy?!” he shouted, zipping over to your side as you deflected an attack meant for him. His silver hair was disheveled, and his blue eyes were wide with disbelief.

Pietro Maximoff aka. Quicksilver

- Even as the battle continued, Pietro couldn’t stop glancing at you, his usual cocky demeanor replaced with genuine concern. When the fight finally ended, he was by your side in an instant. “You know I can take care of myself, right?” he said, though his voice cracked slightly. “You didn’t have to do that.”

- Back at the mansion, Pietro couldn’t sit still. He paced back and forth in your room, occasionally stopping to check on you. “You scared the hell out of me, you know that?” he said, his usual bravado nowhere to be found. But when you teased him about being worried, he smirked, the tension breaking for just a moment. “Don’t get used to it,” he muttered, though his eyes betrayed his true feelings.

- Over the next few days, Pietro found himself sticking closer to you than usual. He’d zip in and out of rooms, checking on you, bringing you snacks, or just hanging around. One day, as he sat next to you, he finally said, “You’re kind of amazing, you know that?” His voice was quieter than usual, and the look in his eyes made your heart skip a beat.

- From then on, Pietro became even more protective of you, though he couldn’t resist teasing you about your heroic antics. “You’re lucky I like you,” he said one day, throwing an arm around your shoulders. “Because no one else gets to scare me like that and live to tell the tale.”

- Emma was used to being the one who controlled situations, her sharp wit and psychic prowess leaving little room for vulnerability. During a battle, when an enemy’s attack zeroed in on her, she was caught off guard. Before she could react, you stepped in, using your abilities—or sheer determination—to protect her. “What on earth are you doing?” she snapped, her diamond form shimmering as she deflected the remnants of the attack. But beneath her icy tone, there was a flicker of shock and something softer.

Emma Frost aka. The White Queen

- After the battle, Emma confronted you immediately, her arms crossed and her piercing gaze fixed on you. “Do you make a habit of risking your life for others, or am I just that lucky?” she asked, her voice laced with sarcasm. When you explained your actions, her expression softened for just a moment before she masked it with a smirk. “You’re either foolish or incredibly brave. I can’t decide which.”

- Over the next few days, Emma found herself replaying the moment in her mind. Despite her efforts to maintain her usual aloof demeanor, she couldn’t help but admire your courage. One evening, she invited you to her office under the guise of discussing strategy. “You’re surprisingly impressive,” she admitted, her voice quieter than usual. “But don’t think for a second that I need saving.”

- As time passed, Emma’s walls began to crack, and she found herself drawn to you in ways she hadn’t anticipated. One night, as the two of you shared a rare quiet moment in the garden, she reached out and took your hand. “You make me feel… safe,” she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. “And I don’t say that lightly.”

- From then on, Emma became fiercely protective of you, though she expressed it in her own unique way. “You’re mine now,” she said one day, her tone both teasing and possessive. “So don’t think for a second that I’ll let anything happen to you.”

- Laura had always been the protector, her claws and instincts honed for battle. So when you jumped in to shield her during a fight, she was stunned. “What are you doing?!” she growled, her emerald eyes flashing with anger and concern. She quickly dispatched the enemy, then turned to you, her expression a mix of frustration and confusion. “You didn’t have to do that,” she muttered, though her voice was softer than usual.

Laura Kinney aka. X-23 / Wolverine

- After the fight, Laura couldn’t seem to leave your side. She hovered awkwardly, her protective instincts clashing with her feelings of guilt. “You’re reckless,” she said bluntly, her arms crossed as she tried to mask her worry. But when you smiled and told her it was worth it, her tough exterior cracked just a little. “You’re impossible,” she muttered, though there was a hint of a smile on her lips.

- Back at the mansion, Laura watched you like a hawk, her keen senses constantly on alert. She didn’t know how to process the fact that someone had risked themselves for her. “I don’t need saving,” she said one day, her voice quieter than usual. “But… thank you.” The words felt foreign on her tongue, but the sincerity in her eyes was unmistakable.

- Over time, Laura found herself drawn to your bravery and selflessness. She admired the way you faced danger without hesitation, even if it frustrated her to no end. One evening, as the two of you sat on the mansion roof, she finally opened up. “You mean more to me than I know how to say,” she admitted, her voice barely audible. “But if you ever do something that reckless again, I’ll kill you myself.”

- From that moment on, Laura became fiercely protective of you, though she respected your independence. “We’re a team,” she said one day, her hand brushing yours. “But that doesn’t mean I’m letting you get hurt. Not if I can help it.”

- Wade was used to being the one who took the hits, his healing factor allowing him to shrug off injuries that would kill anyone else. So when you leaped in to protect him during a fight, he was utterly baffled. “Whoa, whoa, whoa! Time out!” he shouted, pulling you behind him. “What are you doing? I’m the one who’s supposed to play human shield here!”

Wade Wilson aka. Deadpool

- After the battle, Wade didn’t stop talking about your “heroic” actions. “Seriously, you’re like my own personal bodyguard! Except way cuter,” he quipped, his tone playful but laced with genuine concern. When you rolled your eyes and told him you couldn’t just stand by, he grinned. “Aw, you care about me! I’m touched. Like, emotionally. And probably physically later if I’m lucky.”

- Despite his jokes, Wade couldn’t hide how much your actions affected him. He started sticking closer to you, his usual chaotic energy tempered by an uncharacteristic protectiveness. “You know,” he said one day, tossing a chimichanga your way, “you’re kind of amazing. And not just because you’re willing to risk your life for a guy who looks like a melted candle.”

- Over time, Wade’s feelings for you grew deeper, though he still struggled to express them without humor. One night, as the two of you sat on a rooftop eating takeout, he finally got serious. “You’re the first person who’s made me feel like I’m worth something,” he said, his voice unusually quiet. “So, thanks for that. And also for being insanely hot.”

- From that point on, Wade became even more devoted to you, though he never stopped teasing you about your heroic antics. “You’re my favorite reckless hero,” he said one day, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “But let’s make a deal: next time, let me take the hits. I heal faster, and you’re way too pretty to mess up.”

[joonipertree]

Sano Manjiro, the most frustrating man to have a crush on

You learnt that Mikey punched a guy who asked you out. Mikey refuses to explain why. Both of you are dumbasses.

Tags: fluff, stupid shit, getting together, friends to lovers, fem bodied reader, smut at the end, it's him just eating you out sjsns, slight Dom/sub undertones because I can't help myself

  Mikey was a dumbass. 

In every sense of the word, he was a short fucking dumbass with a deep melodic voice and great hair. The biggest dumbass in the world. You wanted to punch him in the face and kiss him at the same time. Genuinely, you couldn’t stand that man. In no way could you imagine him ever being a good boyfriend. He’d suck at it-----

“Oi, Sano Manjiro.” 

The man in question turned, face dead and eyebrow twitching. 

“What?”

“Did you beat up the guy? 

“I beat up a lot of guys.”

“The guy who asked me out.”

Mikey sat back with his palms on the ground and Toman jacket secured on his back. His hair had gotten long, a bit too long for his liking and he still hadn’t decided how to cut it. You’d already taken the liberty over the last few weeks to tie them in pigtails and braid them to your heart’s content. He’d just walk around like that without batting an eye. 

“Yeah, he went out with one hit. You could do better.”

“Do you know who you are? The fuck. That could have killed him.”

“He isn’t in the hospital or anything.”

You turned around, not being able to take a look at your friend anymore than you needed to. Everyone around you stared with either pity or annoyance. Sanzu, Emma and Ken-chin were utterly done with Mikey’s dumbassery and Chifuyu was done with yours. Baji and Kazutora were done with both of you. They just always choose the stupid people as friends. 

“You weren’t gonna say ‘yes’ were you?”

And you weren’t. The boy had very bravely confessed his feelings for you (unlike some people) and before you could even tell him your answer, he’d told you to think about it at least. You’d appreciated it and left at that, already planning on saying no. 

“Maybe I was, what’s it to you?”

“Oh my god,” Emma muttered out in agony. 

"Maybe you should nurse him back to health then." 

"Yeah I was already planning on it." 

No you were not.

You left with an emphasis on your steps, back straight and eyes hard because you were stubborn. You didn't care if Mikey won at being the most stubborn person in the block, you would beat him at his own game.

♡

"You know he likes you. He has for years. He knows you like him. Just fuck already." Chifuyu moaned out, having gotten over the shoujo vibes very quickly after seeing the slow burn drag out. 

"I dunno what you're talking about." 

You wanted to deny it. Not deny that you were in love with Mikey but deny he was in love with you. Because admitting it meant hoping for something to happen and false hope got you hurt. People got close, they saw you in your humanity and ran away. The only people you trusted not to leave were your friends, Mikey included. 

"Oh come on. I have given you a powerpoint presentation and a whole binder worth of evidence that Mikey likes you. I nearly got wiped out by Draken for taking one too many pictures." 

You snorted. Chifuyu being a romantic buffoon with an overeager imagination made it harder for you to accept it. But you did acknowledge, not with the binder full of pictures and 'receipts', that Mikey had a soft spot for you. 

You got close at 17, Mikey being an extroverted loud mouth and you being a shy but curious introvert. He took you on bike rides, talked to you while making eye contact, held your hand and pulled you next to him and you fed him bites of your food and let him sleep on your lap. 

But you wanted to argue that….Mikey was just friendly like that. 

It had been a few years before you noticed that Mikey rarely made eye contact with people while talking but always asked for your attention. You both were hopeless and were just waiting for the other one to confess. It was getting painful. 

Chifuyu's eyes shifting to the side made you alert because he wasn't good at acting. And when he got up and ran, you knew who came inside. 

"Hi, Captain! Bye, Captain!" 

Mikey sat in front of you, dark bottomless eyes staring into your soul. You looked back at him, still pissed that he punched a perfectly nice guy. He then eyed your sundae and you immediately pulled it closer to you. He needed to learn that actions had consequences and that you weren't weak for him.

  With a pout, Mikey placed his chin on his arms, splayed out on the table. It made you aware how broad he was, fingers nimble and boney and angular.

 Pretty. Always so pretty. 

"How's your boyfriend doing?" 

Your teeth clicked and with a roll of your eyes, you established that Mikey needed to get pushed off a cliff somewhere. 

"So you aren't gonna tell me?" 

"Tell you what?" Mikey drawled out, looking up at you through his eyelashes. 

"Why you punched an innocent dude."

"He pissed me off." 

"Why?" 

"Did you say yes?" 

"Answer me first." 

"I did." 

You glared, taking a petty bite of your ice cream in retaliation. Mikey glared back harder, only changing when he looked out the corner of his eyes. You were about to turn your head before he spoke up again. 

"It was an accident." 

Your snort was loud and unattractive, hiding your face to try and compose yourself. When you looked up,Mikey's face had softened. 

"I don't believe you." 

"It's the truth. Answer my question." 

You debated your options. Because maybe saying that 'yeah I want to date him' would be going too far considering it would be a lie. But admitting that you didn't meant even more probing questions. Like why you were annoyed at Mikey for punching someone you didn't wanna date.

"Why do you care?" You retaliated like a dumbass.

"You're pissing me off." 

"Good." 

There was another pause. Mikey's hand moving to steal your bowl. You swerve it away from him with no chance of winning with his reflexes and the limited space. So your hand went to grab his wrist. 

Your heart raced at immediate contact. You became all too aware of him. Aware of his delicate wrist, the muscle, the bone that jutted out, the blue veins against pale skin. You became aware of his reddened and bruised knuckles, his calluses and ripped cuticles. They were hands of a delinquent, that liked to grip things too tight and didn't mind rough surfaces and reveled in strenuous activity. They were big too, too big against your own hand and too rough for your soft skin. 

And they were warm, soaking into you to leave a lasting impression. 

Mikey let go of the bowl in favor of holding your arm, gentle and all encompassing. His thumb rubbed against your skin, causing goosebumps to form and a shiver to run down your spine. 

"I was fighting with Takemitchy. The dude got caught in the crossfire. My hand landed on his face by accident. I can show you Mitchy as proof. He still looks run down. Even I took a few hits." 

You saw. Saw the scratches on his face and the redness of his jaw. It made you want to chide him for not bandaging himself. But he always liked it when you did it. Your eyes couldn't meet his, staring at your fingers wrapped around his wrist and his thumb rubbing your skin. 

"You need to stop fighting in public settings." 

"It wasn't that bad. A tire or two got thrown around but that's about it." 

"Where did you--- not gonna ask." 

Mikey giggled, soft and gravelly. You were reminded that the years changed his voice in a way that was still his. There was a pause and you realised the question eating away at you wouldn't go away until you asked it. The secret you kept wouldn't help being hidden away. You were tired and just wanted him. 

"You know……I talked to the guy today. Went to meet him." 

Mikey's eyes instantly hardened, looking away with a click of his tongue. 

"Ah, did he tell you I knocked his brains out? You shouldn't date a liar." 

"No," you tried to keep your voice casual, "he told me that it hurt but you weren't even looking at him when it happened. He just got too close." 

"Then why did you ask---" 

"He apologised though, said he didn't know I had a boyfriend." 

Mikey’s lips tugged upwards, turning his head to the side so he could catch his composure. And you were ready to slap the shit out of him. 

“Huh, I don’t know what gave him that impression. We must look good together.”

“I feel like you saying ‘that’s for asking my girl out’ after you hit him might’ve done the trick.”

Mikey held his hands up in surrender, knees knocking against yours almost to tease. 

"I didn't hit him, I just repurposed the accident. Didn't want it to go to waste." 

"Manjiro." 

"What?"

"I'm not yours." 

"Since when?" 

"Since always!!" 

His eyebrows furrowed, leaning back with a huge frown like you'd just told him his house burnt down. 

"What the fuck?"

"You can't just make me yours without asking me first, asshat." 

"Everyone knows you're mine."

"I dont." 

Mikey took your hand, lips on the back of it as if it was a normal part of his day. But your breath hitched and you froze. Because oh---

"I found you first." 

Your palms slammed against the table.

"If you wanna kiss me so bad then do it on my mouth, you coward---"

And within the next second, Manjiro’s mouth crashed into yours. It nearly knocked you back, if it wasn’t for his hand at the back of your head, curling into your hair. You whimpered against him, his lips tugging into a satisfied smirk. 

Chifuyu had yelled out, “Fucking finally!!”

The sound of your lips parting away from each other was enough to make you want to lean back in. Your lips weren’t willing to move even an inch away from him. He tasted good. Like vanilla. And he had trouble keeping himself away from you as well, leaving chaste kisses on the corners of your mouth, fingers keeping your chin lifted up. 

A throat was cleared, your cheeks instantly burned with the realisation of where you were. Mikey glared at the waiter who just let him know that it was time to leave. And with fingers interlocked, Mikey pulled you away from the diner, sticking out his tongue to Ken-chin who sighed in relief and leaned against Emma.

You got on his bike without question, heart racing because oh god--

The door to his room slammed open and he barely paid attention to anything with his arm around you. You giggled as he lifted you up and swirled you inside with a flourish. Once the door was shut, his laughter was loud and warm as his lips crashed into you, hungry for more. And you let him lead you, combing your hand through his hair causing him to shiver. 

Mikey hugged you close, gentle in his touch and you let him swallow you whole and envelop you. When his tongue prodded against your lip, you parted them easily as if he didn’t even have to ask. And oh, he felt good.

 But Mikey will spend the rest of your lives telling you that you were the best feeling in the world. 

“Mine.” Manjiro murmured out, sucking on your lower lip so harshly that your whole body did a visceral shudder. 

You were breathing hard when you parted, eyes hazy but daring as you looked your best friend in the eye. 

“You still haven’t asked me, asshat.”

Manjiro growled, eyes narrowed and twitching. Your head and body threw itself back as you burst out laughing, feeling free because you knew Mikey’s arm would never let you fall. That led your neck to be exposed to the littering kisses Manjiro gave out of vengeance.

 You squealed as it tickled and felt your knees give out against the bed beneath you. He’d backed you up, without you noticing, like a predator cornering its prey for a meal well earned. 

You felt yourself sink into the soft mattress, hand reached out to tug his shirt down towards you. Manjiro just stared at you, eyes gleaming with an emotion you didn’t understand and a grin so wide you could see all his teeth. 

“Mine, in every timeline.” Mikey whispered. 

And your breath hitched, speaking out without a second thought. 

“Yours, in every universe.” 

Manjiro’s eyes watered and he finally enveloped you, body a welcomed weight as he kissed you in slow languid bliss. 

“Good baby,” he whispered and you whined out. 

You pawed at him, liking the praise a little too much. Manjiro’s kisses left a wet hot trail as he went from your chin to your cheek. A wet sound heard every time his lips disconnected from you. You let him have his way, feeling his hand pat the side of your head. 

You wanted to kiss him back but every time you tried, he clicked his tongue in disapproval and you just laid there as he poured his love into you. You had begun to tear up because Manjiro's love was overwhelming and it was for you.

Your eyes closed as his lips met your eyelids, tasting the salty tears and pulling back to inspect your face. You mewled at the lost contact, opening your eyes and pouting.

Oh, how dare he 

He hushed you, hand patting your head again, lips continuing their venture on your face. 

 Your legs wrapped themselves around his waist. And both of you became aware of the effect the intimacy had on you.

 Manjiro pressed into you, hips solid and confident. And you felt his bulge against your pussy, only his pants and your underwear in the way. it was enough to drive you insane. 

You yearned and yearned and begged with pretty fluttery eyes that had him breathless. 

“Yeah? You wan’ me, honey?”

And despite the embarrassment, you nodded with the biggest pout you could muster. And Manjiro melted just at that, ready to burn the world for you if you asked him to. In another timeline, he probably had. 

“Haven’t even been dating for a minute and you're already so needy.”

He didn’t even let you blubber out a complaint before your underwear was exposed to him. And you craved him so badly that your legs made space for only Manjiro. He appreciated it, boney fingers squeezing your hips before imprinting the memory of the wet patch into his mind. 

Oh you were so sweet. A type of pliable that was only given to those you trusted. 

“Not allowed to hide anything, okay?”

And with that, his nose traced the outline of your pussy, tongue peaking out for a taste that just wasn’t enough for you. Your thighs squished against his cheeks and he groaned, pressing his full mouth onto you. Your hips jutted upwards, a cry weak and wobbly escaping your lips. And with effort, you spoke.

“Stop teasing, jerk.”

The warmth was too much, you could feel him right there but the cotton was in the way. Despite your protest, he lapped you up out of greed. And your hands clutched onto his hair. 

“If there’s nothing between us, I won’t be sane.” You heard him say and it just made you needier. 

“Don’ want you to be. Please.”

And with that, his hand ripped your panties out of the way. Manjiro took a second to stare in awe at your pretty pussy. It was so wet, begging him to eat it out, practically drooling. Many thoughts went through his head.

How it would feel to be inside you, how warm it would be, if he could last long in the tightness? If he'd ever be able to survive without the taste of your pussy after this moment? If he gave your cunt a smack, would you like it?

Manjiro decided that keeping you waiting was the worst thing he could possibly do. 

Mikey was a lot more hungry than he thought he was. Your pussy was engulfed in his mouth.

 The direct contact was enough to make him moan. Your own got stuck in your throat, not realising how overwhelming it would be. When his tongue prodded inside, you let him guide your legs against your chest so that he could have more access. And then it plunged inside and you let out a warbled moan that felt too loud in your own ears. With a hand covering your mouth, you tried to suppress the little sounds tumbling out of you.

Manjiro’s middle finger tapped against the plush of your thigh and he pulled away with effort to say:

“No hiding. Be good.”

You cried out, flexing your fingers in his hair as he went back to the task at hand. And you let yourself voice out the feeling, soft “ah, ah, ah”s filling the air and causing you to tear up in embarrassment. 

“Wan’ to be-be good for you.”

“Mhmmm,” He answered with the vibration of his hum shooting through your pussy and into your back that arched almost painfully. 

The orgasm came out of nowhere, crashing into you the second Manjiro’s mouth wrapped around your clit and sucked. 

You didn’t even care how loud you were being, brain wiping out everything it had as your body arched and twitched. Manjiro only stopped lapping your cum when you flinched away, kissing your inner thigh before moving to you for a kiss. 

You let him inside your mouth easily, whimpering and pawing at his shoulder as you held him close. You shook in his embrace, muttering out weak and tiny ‘thank you’s that had him chuckling at you. 

“Did your Manjiro make you feel good, bubba?” 

“Uh-huh.” You nodded, kissing the corner of his lips in appreciation. 

[slttygeto]

SAVE MY LOVE FOR YOU | MANJIRO SANO.

જ⁀➴ synposis: neither you nor mikey seem to have pulled out cupid's arrow despite being separated in this timeline. lucky for you two, you have the perfect group of friends for you to reunite in every life.

જ⁀➴ content warning: manga spoilers! (the ending), racer! mikey, best friend! kazutora, fem! reader, tooth rotting fluff, mikey is very confident and famous, making out on the first date, se.x in the changing room, se.x on the couch, protective sex (wrap it before you tap it), overstimulation, cunnilingus, mikey makes you cum three times, he's a sweetheart.

જ⁀➴ word count: 10k

જ⁀➴ note: thank you to @mztoman for commissioning me again (so loyal!) i had so much fun writing this, even though it took me a while. and thank YOU guys for 8k followers! I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it hehe.

ʚ⁺˖↪ comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

One of Takemichi’s biggest achievements in life is giving his friends the life he promised them when he first discovered what being a time leaper was. It wasn’t easy, he fought like hell but it was worth it at the end. All of his friends are alive, his girlfriend is soon going to become his wife and was preparing for their wedding—it couldn’t get more perfect than this. The man sat next to this big window of a very quiet and fancy place, so lost in his thoughts that he failed to notice that his friend was walking back towards their table.

Manjiro watched as the black haired male fidgeted nervously in his seat. It was his idea to take him out, help him loosen up a little since Takemichi has been so caught up in wedding stress. He deserved a day like this. Especially with how far he’s come and the sacrifices he made for them to be here in the first place.

“If you fidget again, you might break the chair,” Manjiro teases him as he takes a seat across from him. He watches as the male flinches before resting his forehead on the table. Takemichi heaves out a long sigh.

“This is way too fancy, Mikey…”

“Well, what did you think? That I’d be allowed to go a coffee shop down the street where anyone can recognize me?” Manjiro flashes his friend a grin, a little proud that his career mad him get this far. And Takemichi sighs in defeat, accepting the fact that their little hangouts were going to be like this from now on.

“Plus, you need this more than I do. Wedding preparations are wearing you out. Maybe attending Emma’s wedding first will help putting you in a good mood before the big day comes up.” It was true, but there was something else to be discussed and Takemichi wasn’t sure of how to bring it up.

Was this even the right moment for it? He didn’t even know if it was appropriate to discuss this so casually. But he needed to get it off his chest. It was one of the first things he noticed when the last time leap happened—how it felt off. He wasn’t even sure at first, he thought he was just imagining things, that the time leaps took a toll on him. But one look at Chifuyu confirmed that he wasn’t tripping. Someone was missing in the picture.

“Hey, do you remember ever having a girlfriend in the past?” Takemichi tries to be casual about this, tries not to make it seem like it was a life or death situation but his facial expression fails him. It was so serious that it makes Mikey pause eating his food.

“Huh?”

“A girlfriend, or perhaps a girl? Do you remember being involved with a girl romantically?” At first, Takemichi was hesitating on telling his friend about this. After all, there’s no nice way to ask this question without making it seem like you are calling your friend a total loser. But he remember his conversation with Chifuyu, and he knows that if there is anyone to trust when it comes to information about the past, it’s either him or Naoto.

“I remember her, we didn’t talk that much but she was definitely there,” Chifuyu says, still holding the cold beer in his hand. Takemichi had invited him to his apartment while Hinata was out shopping, because he couldn’t just discuss this kind of stuff over the phone.

“Through it all, right?”

“Mhm, you remember her too Michi, you’re just hesitant.” Chifuyu was right. Takemichi knew what he saw in all of the timelines, he is sure that there was someone and Mikey always looked so protective of you, never let anyone near you. He’s never seen his friend like that, and so for him to be separated from her in this final timeline just didn’t make sense. He needed to do something about it.

“Michi, are you trying to tell me something?” It seemed like Mikey refused to take the situation seriously, and no one could blame him. What was supposed to be a fun hang out with his best friend was turning into a serious conversation and faster than he had anticipated.

“You were in love, Mikey.” This sentence makes his face fall. Takemichi sighs before leaning back in his seat, stirring the drink placed in front of him.

“Each time I went back in time and tried to fix things, it led me to a different timeline—a different outcome. In all of them, you were involved with this girl—you were different,” Takemichi pauses as he looks up at his friend. “No matter how bad things turned out to be, she was always there and seemed to be the only person to pull you out of this dark cloud. Last time, way before that big fight happened—“ He almost cringes when he remembers how bad it was. “You two weren’t together anymore. And I’m not sure why or how, but that seemed to worsen things for you. And if I’m not mistaken, she did end up dying at one point.”

Manjiro was trying his best to process what was being said to him. He was quiet, attentive and did not know what to say. He wasn’t opposed to the idea that younger him had found love, he was more upset that he must’ve fucked up some way for this mysterious girl to leave him and not want to be involved with him anymore. But he had no memory of her. No name, no address—how old was she? Were they both the same age? Was she older? What was she like? She must’ve been super patient with him because his teenage self was a menace, whiny and way too needy.

“Do you remember what she was like?” Mikey breaks the silence, his eyes going from his drink to his friend’s face who hums, trying his best to remember some of the features.

“I’m not sure, all I remember is that she was very loyal to you. She had a bonten tattoo on the back of her neck to match yours.” Takemichi remembers vividly the Bonten timeline, where he had tried to visit Mikey at that one abandoned building. He remembers watching her as she stood near the leader with careful eyes, a warm touch that contrasted her partner’s cold demeanor. She seemed to give Mikey what he lacked—warmth, love and a home.

“Where was she during the last fight?”

“I have no idea, but she didn’t want to be around you,” Takemichi cringes at the confession.

It’s true, she and Manjiro were like strangers in this timeline, but it wasn’t guaranteed that they wouldn’t meet again. After all, this mysterious girl was also friends with the rest of Toman. Takemichi wasn’t sure who exactly was her closest friend in the gang, and it made the chances of meeting her very slim.

“How do you know so much, though?” Mikey starts, taking a bite from his pastry. “You can remember that I was a piece of shit to her, but not her face?” It was a natural question, and no offense was taken by Takemichi who shrugged his shoulders.

“Honestly, I don’t know. I got some answers from Chifuyu and Naoto. We know this girl, but we tried to look at every picture with Toman and she was just never there. Almost like a ghost.”

“And you’re sure she isn’t dead in this present time?” This was Takemichi’s least favorite theory. Something must’ve happened in the past, she was nowhere to be found and the guy didn’t have time to ask everyone if they remember a certain girl being involved with the gang. All he could hope for was that she was alive and that nothing bad happened to her. Unlike that one timeline where she does end up getting killed, Takemichi hoped that she somehow survived and made it in the present time.

“I hope that she isn’t.” Takemichi confesses, almost gloomily. “But one thing is for sure—if she was close to somebody in Toman, there’s a chance she might attend either mine or your sister’s wedding. Let’s not lose hope.”

--

You are invited to the wedding of an old friend. You remember Emma as being the light of any room she walks into, and seeing her get married to the one person she’s always had a crush on makes you grin from ear to ear as you hold the wedding invitation in your hands. You are not particularly close to the couple, but you remember bumping into them a couple of times and every time you would pray that nothing bad happens and separates them because their happiness is truly contagious.

The wedding takes place in about two days, and you learn that you are not the only one invited when you hear your doorbell ring.

“You’re invited to Emma and Draken’s wedding, right?” Kazutora stands at your door and you snort at how excited he is. You’ve been friends with him for almost a decade now, you’ve seen each other at your lowest and you couldn’t deny that your friendship with the man was one of a kind. He pestered you like you were a little sister, and no matter how annoying he was to you, he happened to be one of the few people who were truly there for you when you needed them.

“Mhm, she even called me and told me she really wants to see me.” You smile when you remember the phone call. She was sweet enough to ask for your number when you bumped into her three months ago, and now that you look back at it—it was definitely to invite you to her wedding. You let Kazutora walk inside your place and the man makes himself comfortable on your couch.

“Good. You do need to get out of the house, it’s starting to become annoying,” he says with a light tone, and he sees you roll your eyes before you take a seat next to him.

“Sure, I do need to socialize a little.”

“Not a little, a lot.”

“Shut up, I get it.” You smack Kazutora’s arm and he laughs before grabbing the remote control. He chooses a random show on Netflix before grabbing his phone to order takeout. You can’t even argue with him or tell him you had some left-over food from yesterday because he wouldn’t listen to you anyway.

Kazutora was right. You rarely ever went out unless you were obligated or the man dragged you to an event. It felt as though you dreaded the thought of going out and having to meet people. But attending Emma’s wedding didn’t sound like a bad idea. As long as the people there were as sweet as her.

Which made you realize another thing.

“It’s crazy how we both knew Emma, but we didn’t become friends through her.” You say outloud and your friend hums. You two became friends because you happened to be hanging out near a cat café. You both happened to be rescuing the same kitten, and decided that it was the start of your very long friendship.

“True, which also means that you’ve never met one of my closest friends and Emma’s brother.” You tilt your head in confusion.

“Who?”

“Mikey.” You’ve never heard of that name in your life. Then again, you’ve never been to Emma’s house or were that close to her in the first place. All you knew was that she had a massive crush on this Draken dude who you saw recently and that was that. Anything about her family was simply none of your business.

“Yeah, I don’t know him.” You simply shrug.

“He’s a pretty famous racer actually,” oh? That was a first. “But he likes to keep his personal life mostly private. Last time, he came to my place wearing a black hoodie and black sweatpants—I thought I was getting robbed.”

You snort at the thought of your friend being absolutely terrified from his own close friend. But this made you a little curious about this Mikey. If he was as famous as Kazutora claims, why have you never seen him on TV before?

“You’re such a scaredy cat. “ You tease your friend, nudging him with your elbow.

“Yeah, yeah. Says the same person who cried when she found me on her couch after opening the door for me at night.”

“I forgot!”

“Say that to the person who will murder you in your sleep.”

--

Emma’s wedding was as intimate as it could be. You weren’t complaining, you hated big weddings where people didn’t even know each other. And right off the bat, you could tell that the people invited to the couple’s wedding were loved ones and have seen them grow up together.

You don’t feel out of place, but you are still a little closed off as Kazutora marches towards his group of friends. You refused to go with him mainly because it would be so awkward and you wanted to give your friend some space to hang out with his own group of friends. And so you stand next to the drinks, pour yourself some water and hold onto your cup while looking around the place.

It was small, but not too small. You take notice of the flowers hanging by the ceiling and the cake sitting in the corner. There’s soft music playing in the background and despite the number of people present, it is not loud enough to annoy you. Perhaps if you were to get married one day, you wanted a ceremony just like this.

You’re brought out of your thoughts when you feel Kazutora’s hand around your wrist and you send him a look that he knows a little too well.

Don’t you dare-

“Come! They wanna meet you.” He’s grinning from ear to ear, and you hear his friends laugh at the contrast in your expressions. While Kazutora is so excited to introduce you to his friends, you look as though you don’t even want to be here.

“There she is! Give her some time and she will warm up to you guys,” you give a tight lipped smile and you can feel your cheeks warming up at the attention. You aren’t exactly awkward with people, but being introduced like this wasn’t a situation you would ever put yourself into.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Mitsuya.” A man with lavender hair extends his hand out and the smile on his face helps you relax a little. You shake hands with him and introduce yourself back, and suddenly everyone was telling you who they were.

Beside Baji (whom you’ve already seen in pictures before), everyone else is a new face. There was a set of twins, Souya and Nahoya. Pah-chin and Peh-yan, and then there was Hakkai and Chifuyu. They were all nice and welcoming, didn’t make you feel awkward at all. But you notice how Chifuyu’s stare lingers on you for a bit longer than the rest, and you don’t shy away from asking him if there was something he needed.

“Is there anything you need or?”

“Oh no,” Chifuyu starts and shakes his head. His cheeks are flushed that you caught him staring at you so intensely, but he continues nonetheless. “You just look familiar, that’s all.”

Familiar? It wasn’t exactly impossible, but you were still sure that you’ve never met Chifuyu before.

“Maybe we met outside or something, or maybe Kazutora showed you a pic?” You ask the male, and he quickly darts his eyes towards Kazutora.

 “Actually, yeah. I think that’s where I saw you.” He lets go of the conversation pretty quickly after this, leaving you standing confused next to your friend. You don’t really question it, perhaps he did believe you and it was all in his head. But it was still a weird interaction altogether.

You are quickly introduced to a new person, and your interaction with him isn’t any less weird than the previous one. Takemichi stares at you with wide eyes and parted lips, and you see Chifuyu pinch his side which makes you furrow your eyebrows. What the fuck was going on here?

“Are you okay—“

“You just look very familiar.” Again? You almost roll your eyes in annoyance. If they were playing games with you, this surely wasn’t a fun one. But you decide to give a proper answer to this observation and shake your head.

“It’s probably all in your head, I’m sorry. I have never seen you in my life.”

Despite how warm and gentle you look, you are strong minded and don’t shy away from situations like these. Takemichi finds himself smiling at the thought.

I can see why her and Mikey are perfect for each other.

Takemichi, just like Chifuyu, lets go of the conversation very easily and you find yourself even more annoyed than before. If one more person tells you that you look familiar, you might just tell them to fuck off. But you’re distracted by Kazutora dragging you to take a seat, indicating that the ceremony was about to start.

You watch as the best men step out and stand next to the groom who looks as though he is about to burst into tears at any moment. It is a sweet thing to witness in real time, the same man you remember meeting three months ago holding a bag of groceries while Emma was holding nothing but her purse. He was truly head over heels, and to be able to witness him devote himself and promise to love and cherish her, to be there for her and hold her when things get tough felt like witnessing a love story straight from the books.

The after-party starts shortly after, and you take notice of how the quiet and intimate vibes remain present throughout the whole night. You are sat at a table all alone, Kazutora had only left your side a few moments prior to grab food for you both and so you decide to just scroll on your phone for a bit. But you are quickly robbed of your alone time when your friend comes back and it seems as though he’s dragging someone with him.

“(Name), this is Mikey. Mikey, this is (name). He’s the friend that I told you about yesterday.” Mikey is anything but how you imagined him to be. Cocky, arrogant, maybe a little self-centered since that’s how everyone who rose to fame behaved even around their friends. But he is… closed off. He can hold eye contact, but you take notice of the small blush painting the apples of his cheeks at having to be introduced like this.

You two seemed to have that in common.

You give a small smile in response and extend your hand, Mikey sees it and mirrors your actions. You don’t think much of it, it’s a hand shake after all—but the moment the palm of your head meets his, you feel electricity shock through your body and you both pull away with a slight hiss.

“Shit-“

“Ouch.”

You’re both holding your hands back, but then you look at him and he feels different. For some odd reason, this young man you had just been introduced to looks at you as though he’s been looking for you for a long time. Your heart skips a beat. His eyes are intense, and he doesn’t seem to pull his eyes away from you until you dart them back towards Kazutora with red cheeks.

Your friend watches the scene unfold before him with raised eyebrows and a small smile. He had hopes that two of his closest friends would get along, and it seemed to be going just fine.

“Wow, am I interrupting something?” The playful tone to his voice seems to make the heat travel all over your body, and both you and Mikey smack him at his comment.

“Don’t be such a dickhead.” You look adorable when you try to be threatening, Mikey thinks. But he also thinks that it must be you.

The girl Takemichi told him about a few days earlier, it has to be you. He doesn’t know how or why, but the hand shake made him feel different about you. It was cheesy to be thinking this way, Mikey would’ve probably teased anyone else if they had told him this. But you were staring at him with pretty eyes and pink cheeks, even your stare was a shy one up until you looked at Kazutora.

You bicker with Kazutora for a few more moments until Mikey sees him lift up his hands in defeat, a triumphant smile on his lips. You roll your eyes at this.

“Fine, I’ll leave you two alone if that’s what you really want.” This little-

“That’s not what I said!” Your face is as red as a tomato, watching Kazutora walk away to chit-chat with some of his friends. Mikey finds himself snickering a little at this.

“Laughing at my misery?” You tell the man with a small grumble and he shrugs his shoulders before pulling out a chair.

“It was entertaining—can I?” You nod in response and Mikey takes a seat next to you. Your body immediately relaxes around him, and given that you were the only two people sitting at this table, you don’t find yourself feeling awkward as you strike a conversation with the man.

“So, you like bikes?” The question is genuine, but the way you phrase it has Mikey throwing his head back with a small laugh.

“I do, how were you able to tell?” He props his elbow on the table before resting his chin on his hand. He is grinning, and the way he’s staring at you makes your stomach flutter.

“A little birdie told me you’re a pretty famous racer,” You grin in return and mirror his actions, resting your chin on the palm of your hand. Mikey takes notice of what you are trying to do and lets out another laugh.

“I am, and yes I do love bikes.”

“I know, Mikey.” You chuckle at his sincerity and you see him shrug his shoulders.

“Hey, I’m an honest man. I wanted to make sure you knew I wasn’t lying.”

“Honestly, you look like a terrible liar.” You giggle a little when he lets out a gasp, feigning being offended.

“I am an amazing liar!”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah! For example, me being an amazing liar is a lie in itself,” Mikey finds himself grinning from ear to ear when his little joke makes you laugh really hard. He truly hopes that you were her, otherwise he would be pretty bummed.

“Alright comedian, I’m getting a little hungry. Wanna grab some food?” Manjiro doesn’t say no, and so you stand up and head towards the display of various types of snacks and food to fill your plate.

The night seemed to be going pretty well.

--

You spend the rest of the night talking to Mikey as though you’ve known each other for years. He lets you talk with Emma and Draken to congratulate them, and you don’t notice the smile that’s on her face when she sees you walk away with her brother. In fact, you fail to notice the various pairs of eyes lingering on you both as you sit down at the very corner, seemingly thinking that you are away from prying eyes, but you were obviously wrong. You and Manjiro looked like you were on a date.

The after-party does eventually come to an end. Kazutora tells you to get ready and you put on the coat you brought with you in case it got cold at night (which it did). Mikey walks you out of the venue, but before you can follow Kazutora to his car, he stops you with a hand around your wrist.

“Hey wait,”

“Yeah?” A part of you was hoping that the conversation was going that way, you had a lot of fun with Mikey during the few hours you hung out with him and you were hoping that he would do something about it.

“I had a lot of fun, and it wasn’t even my own wedding,” he starts with a chuckle. “And I was wondering if we could hang out again.” Oh, he was bold. You liked that.

You smile at this, and you remove your wrist from his grasp before wrapping it around his hand, grabbing it firmly.

“I would love to, Mikey.” You exchange phone numbers and you walk towards Kazutora’s car. You wave at Mikey, you see him mouth ‘I’ll text you later’ and it makes you blush. You get inside the car, and Kazutora immediately starts the car.

He notices how quiet you are, but you don’t look upset. You’re busy staring at your phone, almost like you were waiting for a text and then your phone pings. Your eyes light up when you see the notification, and you quickly type something on your phone.

Mikey<3

--Kazutora’s a pretty reckless driver. Think you gonna get there safely?

You stifle a giggle before sending a reply.

--He’s a pretty good driver actually, have some faith in him.

Kazutora doesn’t take a look at your phone, but from the way you are beaming at your phone, he knows who you were talking to.

“You two are getting along pretty well,” you don’t raise your head to look at him, only nod in response.

“Mhm, he’s really cute,” you say quietly and your friend smiles to himself. He hasn’t seen you this excited about someone in quite some time, and for it to be his close friend out of everyone warms up his heart.

You couldn’t wait to see Mikey again.

--

Mikey has a very busy schedule, you learn that from the past three weeks of texting him. You tried to make plans four times, and they were all dismissed by his team because he had something to do. You weren’t even upset about it, you had been having video and phone calls with him the entire time, but he still apologizes during every call and promises to make it up to you somehow.

Which brings you to where you are right now—standing near your apartment building waiting for him to pick you up. You two had agreed to go back to his place to hang out, since his race was coming up soon, the paparazzi were on his ass and he didn’t want that to ruin his fun time with you.

You see a black, fancy car pull up next to you and your eyes are wide as you stare at it. Mikey rolls down the window and flashes you a toothy grin, before yelling out.

“You’re gonna keep standing there?” You are quick to get inside the car, and you take notice of how clean it is.

“I didn’t think you were gonna pick me up in such a fancy car,” you admit, and Manjiro chuckles at your honesty.

“Were you expecting a bike?”

“Yeah.” You smile when you see him laugh a little harder. “What?”

“You’re cute, that’s all,” you blush at his remark and cough a little, suddenly finding the ceiling of his car very interesting.

“Getting shy?”

“Focus on driving,” you say playfully and he gets stubborn, refusing to listen to you.

“Ooh, did my talk of Kazutora being a reckless driver get to your head?” He rests his head on the steering wheel, and you almost panic when you see that he’s not paying attention.

“Mikey—really, focus!”

You arrive to his place in less than twenty minutes, and you hope your face does not betray you and show him how absolutely mesmerized you are by the size of the building. You have to hurt your neck in order to see the top, and he tells you that he lives on the 20th floor, since he loves watching the city from above. You walk inside, get in the elevator and Manjiro notices the way you’re holding your purse tightly.

His hand reaches out towards you and wraps around your wrist, you look at him in surprise but immediately relax when you see the smile on his face.

“Relax, yeah?” His voice is barely above a whisper. Butterflies dance in your stomach at the way he’s addressing you—so full of love and care. You look away from him when you feel your face getting hot.

Luckily, Manjiro doesn’t notice as the elevator finally comes to a halt, indicating that you finally arrived at the 20th floor. The doors open and you are greeted with a long, illuminated hallway with grey carpets on the floor and big windows on the side. Mikey is the first one to step out and you follow suit, watching as he starts to look for his keys in his pockets.

You arrive at a door with big, bold numbers on it and you wait behind Mikey as he unlocks it before stepping inside.

“Come in, make yourself comfortable.”

Mikey’s place is as fancy as the building, but there’s a hint of domesticity to it and it warms up your heart. There are framed pictures everywhere, trophies sitting above the bookshelf and plants in each corner of the humongous living room. The kitchen is attached to the living space, and you’re surprised when you see that the oven was turned on.

“Were you cooking?”

“Yeah, I’m actually lucky cause if we had been late, our dinner could’ve been burned.” He’s grinning from ear to ear, while you stare at him mortified. He could’ve started a fire and he’s laughing about it?

“You know that’s super dangerous, Mikey.”

“I was just excited to come pick you up,” he pouts at you, and you already have this show memorized. Every time he would do something reckless and he tells you over a video call, he would pout when you scold him in hopes of getting out of it.

“Please,” you roll your eyes, bending down to take off your shoes before putting on the slippers he had laid out for you. While dinner was still cooking, Mikey decides to give you a little tour of his apartment.

You learn that there is he makes good use of the space he has, and he tells you it’s all thanks to his sister Emma for giving him ideas. He has an office where he takes calls, a bedroom that looks rather neat compared to when you saw it over the video call a few days ago and a very pretty bathroom that is black themed. You think it’s the prettiest part of his house.

“Out of everything, you pick the bathroom?” He is amused, watching as you grab the bottles of shampoo and conditioner with a loud gasp, the fascination in your eyes warms up his chest. He truly feels like pulling you in his arms.

“Those are so cool! Have you ever broken one of these?” Manjiro raises an eyebrow at this.

“Why?”

“I just wanna know if you’re clumsy,” you give him an innocent grin, and he pouts his lips at your comment.

“I am not clumsy.”

“Hm, then I guess Kazutora lied to me.” This makes his ears perk up.

“Kazutora told you about me?” You chuckle at his eagerness but nod anyway.

“He told me you were reckless and a bit childish,” you tilt your head to the side. “Stubborn, indecisive, impulsive, idiotic-“

“Did he say anything that’s actually good,” you can sense the annoyance in his voice and chuckle before reaching out to hold one of his hands.

“He told me you were loyal, very kind and loving. You care a lot about your family and friends, and you never let fame get to your head,” your voice is soft as you tell him all the things Kazutora told you, and the longer you hold his hand, the louder your heartbeat is in your ears.

It feels strange, almost familiar to be this close with him even through just hand holding. And when you look up from where you were holding his hand, your breath hitches at the way he is staring at you. Intense, passionate—you can’t exactly decide how Mikey’s eyes feel, but you do know that they make you nervous. You bite your bottom lips out of nervousness, but you don’t let go of his hand. Instead, your thumb caresses the back of his hand and traces soft circles there.

“And what do you think?” Mikey finally breaks the silence, eyes darting all over your face before settling on your lips.

“I think,” you tighten your hold around his hand, before pulling him towards you in one sudden movement. “I think you should kiss me.”

Manjiro didn’t need to be told twice. His hands gripped your hips as he pinned you against his sink, lips pressed against yours in what started out as a soft, innocent kiss. But the longer your lips moved against one another, the harder it was to keep it tame. You only pull away when you’re out of breath and panting, hands gripping the fabric of shirt to pull him impossibly closer to you. He rests his forehead against yours, teeth nipping at your bottom lips before pulling you into another kiss. You gasp when you feel his lips kiss down, nipping at your jaw.

“Mikey—the food.” You pant out.

“Oh shit-“ There goes your dinner.

--

Whatever Mikey cooked that night wasn’t going to be served. You laugh a little at how pouty and sad he is at the incident, but you reassure him that you appreciate his effort until the very end, and even if it was ruined.

You end up ordering food for the night, and you find out that Mikey gets really excited when the food has little decorations on top. He orders a hamburger and you decide to go for a pizza, and the sheer amount of happiness on his face when he finds a little flag on top of the bun makes you coo at him.

There is a show playing while you eat, but neither of you focus on what was happening as you devour your food and talk about everything and nothing. You learn many things about Mikey, and so does he. And it seems as though the kiss you shared back in the bathroom is long forgotten, almost as though it never happened. But you do notice that Mikey is holding back on the stuff he is telling you.

“Is there anything you want to tell me?” You’re not necessarily being confrontational, but you see him shift a little. So you noticed.

He doesn’t say anything as he removes the fry from his mouth and grabs some water, and your heart sinks a little. When did it get so serious?

“Mikey?”

“Can I be honest about something?” Oh no. Whenever a conversation started like this, you knew it wasn’t going to end well.

“Sure.” He was gonna tell you that he didn’t enjoy the kiss—or worse, did your breath smell? You already felt repulsed by yourself and he hadn’t even said a single thing. You were getting ready for rejection, for the night to end terribly and for him to send you back home and never talk to you again. You knew it was too good to be true.

“This might sound a little crazy, but we were lovers in the past.” Huh? You didn’t know what to say—this sounded ridiculous, but maybe he meant when you were kids? On the playground?

“You mean as kids or?”

“No, I mean in a different timeline, we are—well, were lovers.” The use of the past tense when referring to his relationship with you has a bitter aftertaste to it. He wasn’t even sure what he was doing right now, you might not even be her. But he remembers his conversation with Takemichi after Emma’s wedding, how his friend confirmed to him that yes, it was you.

“Mikey, go for it.” Takemichi was grinning from ear to ear. It seemed as though you were actually alive and he did manage to save everyone this time. Even you.

“Are you sure-“

“Yes,” Chifuyu interrupts with his hands in his pockets and a smile on his face. “I’m certain that it’s her.”

This was the confirmation Mikey needed, but he was still scared. What if you reject him in this timeline? What if you both don’t fall in love and things don’t work out? This probably scared him more than having to tell you about the whole time leap thing.

“What do you mean?” You don’t tell him that he sounds ridiculous, nor do you laugh at the fact that he just told you that you were both lovers at one point.

“Takemichi, and my brother—but it doesn’t matter,” Mikey shakes his head. “Takemichi was able to go back in time at one point in his life. He’s what people might call a time leaper. He went through hell and beyond to be able to save his girlfriend from dying, but then eventually he got involved with me and that’s how we became friends.” You see him pause to smile to himself, and you think to yourself that there is no way someone can make up a story this detailed without stuttering or missing a beat.

“Every time he tried to fix something in the past, it would lead to a horrible outcome in the future. And he remembers that—well, we were together,” he frowns before continuing. “No matter the horrible outcome, we were never separated until well, now.”

What Mikey is saying right now should make you look at him like he’s crazy, what he’s implying and the events he’s describing sound straight out of a book. And yet you still believe every word he says. You aren’t sure what part of his speech convinced you that this was real, you just believe him.

“It makes sense. The handshake made me feel some kind of way, I thought I was crazy for looking too deeply into it—but then I felt you and I don’t know, I think even hanging out as friends would do us great, yeah?” You were going on such a ramble, that you fail to notice that Mikey is a little taken aback by your understanding of the whole situation. He’s relieved that you don’t think he is crazy, but when he feels the blush crawl up his neck, he looks away from you with a loud huff.

“What is wrong with you?” You blink at him.

“Hm?”

“You’re being awfully understanding, I wasn’t expecting it.” You find yourself cooing at him, and your hand reaches towards his face to pinch his cheek playfully.

“Oh Mikey, are you shy?” You regret your words as soon as they come out. You feel his hand grab your wrist before pulling you on top of him on the couch, making you straddle him. He smirks at your wide eyed look and his hands grip your hips just like how he did in the bathroom.

“Cat got your tongue?” Yes, it totally did. This side of Mikey was so unexpected but you weren’t complaining. But you did feel as though he was reminding you that no matter how flustered he could get, he always had more effect on you than you could ever imagine.

--

You get over the situation on the couch rather quickly, and an hour later you decide that it’s finally time to head back home. Mikey is whiny about it, but he decides to drive you back to your place and completely forgets why he was upset in the first place. His behavior resembled one of a very needy puppy.

He parks next to your apartment building, and he immediately starts sighing out dramatically.

“Mikey-“

“I cannot believe I have just been reunited with my past lover, and yet she still asks to go back to her place and urgently!” He yells out the last part, the back of his hand pressed against his forehead. “I am heartbroken.”

“I promise to text you, yeah?” You lean towards him and press a kiss to his cheek, to which he grins at.

“And you have to go on a date with me again very soon.”

“Okay, deal.” You quickly agree, and the smile beaming on his face makes you think that if he was always going to be this happy, then you would go on plenty of dates with him.

“Goodnight Mikey,”

“Manjiro.” Your hand rests at the door, and you turn around to face him.

“Yeah?”

“Call me Manjiro, I like it better.”

You smile at this and nod his way. “Goodnight Manjiro.” It sounds so sweet when it comes out of your mouth, and when you lean in to give him a kiss on the cheek, he grabs your face and pulls you into a deep kiss.

He is such a passionate kisser, a little aggressive since he keeps nipping and biting at your bottom lip and gripping the back of your head—but you don’t mind. You are dizzy when he pulls away, and he finally unlocks the door for you with a grin on his face.

“Goodnight, (Name).”

--

Over the next month and a half, not once do you question your relationship with Mikey. It’s casual, you tell yourself. It has to be. Sure, you have shared a few passionate, and very intimate kisses but it was all casual and friendly. At least that’s what you tell yourself.

Mikey refuses to discuss whatever is going on between you two either, chooses to brush it to the side because as much as his brain was telling him this was going well, his heart was screaming at him not to get attached. Which was too late.

The conversations you both had, the kisses you shared—hell, you even understood the whole time leap thing and told him that when he first shook hands with you, he felt familiar. But what if Mikey fucks up again? What if he messes up like he did in the previous times, so badly to the point where even Takemichi couldn’t fix it? The thoughts in his head were getting louder and more suffocating by the minute, and he was afraid that he would do it again—push you away, or worse; lose you.

You notice that his text messages become shorter and less excited than when you both started talking, it confuses you at first—you brush off the idea of him losing interest in you because there was no way. You both got along so well, did he really get cold feet so suddenly?

It was even more frustrating to try to get him to talk about it—every time you would try to bring it up, he would shut down your attempt and give a lame excuse such as “oh, I’m just tired” or “I didn’t get enough sleep”. You were starting to get a little fed up.

You text Kazutora to come over, and you’re not even surprised when you hear a knock at your door not even twenty minutes later. He was always quick with these.

“What do you want this time, more money? My soul?” Kazutora says as he walks in, but the humorous mood he was trying to set immediately fades when he notices your distressed state.

“Wow, are you okay?” His eyebrows are pinched in concern and you shake your head.

“No, no—I think Mikey doesn’t like me.”

“Huh? What do you mean?” This wasn’t what Kazutora heard from Mikey himself, and he realizes almost immediately that things weren’t being communicated properly between you two.

“He’s been acting distant and cold—and I think I fucked up, maybe I shouldn’t have kissed him the first time we hung out-“

“You kissed him the first time you hung out?” Your friend was impressed, but he winces when you smack his shoulder. “Shit sorry—hey listen, I’m very sure he likes you.”

“How can you be so sure? I really don’t know what he’s thinking and it’s killing me.” You are frustrated, and it’s very understandable. But Kazutora has to explain to you how Mikey was as a person.

“It’s Mikey, he’s incredibly scared of his feelings.” He sits you down on your couch and you raise an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue. “It’s always been like this. His feelings are intense, and he is scared that it might push people away which is why he’s had the same group of friends for years--so my theory is, he really likes you. But he is scared that you do not feel the same, or worse and impossible; don’t feel the same way.”

You aren’t surprised that your friend knows this much about Mikey, but you still find it endearing that he was willing to explain to you in detail how his friend dealt with his feelings. You find yourself nodding at his words before resting your head on the couch.

“How do I make him less scared though?”

“What do you mean?”

“I obviously like him back,” you stare at your friend. “It doesn’t take a genius to figure it out. But how do I tell him? How do I let him know that I want him? I can’t have him question that, I need him to be convinced that I feel the same for him, that it doesn’t scare me.”

Kazutora smiles a little at your eagerness. You and Mikey were truly the perfect match. Confident, unwavering and strong with a pinch of gentleness and care for your loved ones. He pats your head affectionately.

“Don’t worry, I got the perfect plan.”

--

You should’ve known his plan would include some of Mikey’s closest friends. You are a blushing mess as you stand in the middle of Mitsuya’s office in an awkward position. The lavender head is staring you down so intensely, you can’t even hold eye contact with him.

“Yeah, lucky her I have one ready.” Have what? You look at Kazutora who only grins at you before shrugging his shoulders.

Mitsuya then comes out and is holding what appears to be a black outfit. He hands it to you and sits back down on his chair before nodding at you to open it. You do as you are told and unfold the piece of clothing in your hands—a dress? There was pretty writing in gold, it said TOMAN on the back and Mikey written in gold right above the heart area.

“Is this…?”

“Mhm, Mikey’s old uniform when we were back in Toman.” Mitsuya says before fixing his glasses. “I tried to experiment with it a couple of times, and this is the last thing I was able to make. It should fit you as an oversized shirt.”

You hold the piece of clothing in your hand and nod at him, before darting your eyes towards your friend.

“What do I do with this?”

“His race is tomorrow. You already have a VIP pass to the front row, right?” You nod in response. “Cool, wear that and stand there. I’m very sure he will be very excited.”

It sounded like a reckless plan—crazy, even. But you were down for it as long as Manjiro knew that you felt the same, and that you were willing to try again with him in this timeline. You were ready to be lovers, it’s what fate decided for you both. And although it doesn’t always work out, during the two months of having known Mikey, you’ve come to accept the fact that you were his and he was yours.

No matter the circumstances, you always found your way back in each other’s lives.

--

Mikey loved his job more than anything in the world. He loved the adrenaline that comes with it, the confidence boost that he gets from hearing people—fans, and mostly his friends and family cheer for him, was immeasurable. He was the center of attention, and such a competitive person that all eyes fell on him the moment he gets on his bike. Like a kid being handed candy, Mikey finds pure joy in holding trophies at the end of every race, and some might think he is cocky for saying this—but he knew that today’s victory was going to be his.

He is getting ready to get on his bike, a heavy helmet in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. He knows his manager is saying something, but he can’t really get himself to care enough to listen, mind thinking of far more important things.

He wonders how you are doing, after all it’s been a while since he last saw you and it makes him internally cringe. Avoidance was one of his worst traits, coming second to pushing people away from him. He doesn’t know what he should do about the whole situation, he is far too deep in it to be able to get out without you getting mad at him or worse—choosing not to be with him. But Manjiro is ready for whatever is thrown his way, he will fight back and try to win you ever. Even if his own fears can easily get the best of him at the worst of times.

The race starts, and Manjiro doesn’t stare at the crowd cheering for him. He knows it’s the usual—His siblings, grandpa and all of his friends cheering the name “Mikey!” over and over again. It wasn’t until the race ends and Mikey wins the first place that he decides to take off his helmet and flash the crowd his usual, toothy grin. It’s contagious, and he notices how his friends keep pointing down for him to notice something in the crowd—or rather, someone.

There you were, standing so close to him yet so far away—how did he not notice you from the very beginning? You looked adorable, and you were wearing something that looked way too familiar. The closer he got to you, the sooner he was able to confirm that it was his old Toman uniform. And you were wearing it as an oversized shirt, with what he hoped were shorts underneath.

He doesn’t miss the way his siblings and friends were snickering to themselves at his speechless state, but he chooses that he will throw a tantrum over that later. He has more important things to focus on—such as asking you what you were doing here, how did you get that? Does it mean that you weren’t mad at him?

Mikey knew he should be careful with the paparazzi, after all they were the type to make a huge deal out of anything—but he has never had any dating rumor. In fact, he would always shut down the idea and say that dating wasn’t for him. But now that you were standing in the crowd, looking especially adorable in his old uniform, he couldn’t really decide whether to protect you from the nasty fans or to hold you in his arms and show the public that his heart belonged to one person only.

He decides to be careful for the sake of your safety—flashes you a confident smile that has your face changing into a bright red color before giving him a curt nod which he returns. You could hear Kazutora and Baji fake gagging in the back at the sight of you two communicating silently, but you didn’t care anymore. Not when Mikey’s eyes spoke louder than any cheering you heard today.

You are patiently waiting for him next to his changing room, it’s where Emma told you to go. You appreciated that neither she, Izana nor Shinichiro teased you about being romantically involved with their brother. Though you did notice the smile that painted the older brother’s face at your nervousness, so he decides to speak up.

“I’m glad you found each other again.” So that’s what Mikey meant when he said that his brother was a time leaper too. Shinichiro knew about you two, but he trusted Takemichi to do the job of telling Manjiro about you.

You fiddle with your thumbs, leaning against the wall. You don’t have time to get lost in your thoughts before you see Mikey storming down the hallway and towards you, ridding himself of his jacket and all the equipment that was strapped onto him as a form of protection.

“Sir—“ His manager tries to get his attention, but Mikey raises a single hand to dismiss his efforts.

“Whatever it is, cancel it or tell them to wait. I have far more important things to do.” You flush at his words, and you’re about to say something yourself when Manjiro grabs your hand and opens the door to his changing room. He turns out and looks at his manager once again.

“No one’s allowed near my room for a while, okay?” His manager raises a questioning eyebrow.

“But sir, why-“

“It doesn’t take a genius to know why.” Mikey almost gives the man a deadpan look, and the manager seems to understand almost immediately and flushes before bowing his head and walking away in a hurry.

You are amused at how eager Mikey is about the whole situation, but you can’t deny that you feel nervous about being alone with him in his changing room. It’s fancy and private, exactly what you imagine Mikey to have since it’s not any different from his house.

Once the door is closed and locked, Mikey turns around to face you and he lets out a fascinated “wow”, eyes darting over the newest version of his old uniform.

“You like it?” Your voice is shy, and you feel small under his gaze as he takes a step closer to you. His hand reaches to grab the hem of your shirt and you see how his thumb grazes over the fabric. His eyes travel all the way up to your face before letting out a hum.

“Ask me again if I like it,” Manjiro’s voice is barely above a whisper, you feel his other hand grab your jaw.

“Do you like it?” You can’t finish the sentence properly before he’s yanking you towards him by your shirt, the hand that was holding the hem of your shirt resting on the small of your back. His nose brushes against yours, and his eyes dart over your face in search for any sign of hesitance or wanting him to pull away.

Instead, you’re a blushing mess. But there’s a proud grin on your face, and you’re biting your bottom lip in hopes of controlling it—Mikey thinks you look too pretty up close.

“I love it, a lot.” He brushes his lips against yours, pulls back when he feels you trying to kiss him properly and when you whine, he lets out a small chuckle.

“What? You wanna kiss me?” You don’t give him a verbal response, but you catch him off guard and capture his lips in a deep kiss. You can tell he is taken aback, but the hand that was resting on your back rests on your face and you almost feel yourself melting from him holding your face with both hands. The kiss is passionate and deep, and you feel yourself being backed up against the wall. You gasp when you feel him pin you there, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue inside your mouth. His hands move down from your face to grip your hips, and when he pulls away, you’re a panting mess.

He rests his forehead against yours, taking in how your face is flushed and your eyes have a thin layer of lust coating them. He hums, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek before biting the skin there.

“I need to hear it.” And somehow, you don’t even have to ask him to know what he means.

“I’m yours, I wanna be yours.” He bites at your jaw, then asks you to say it again.

“Yours-“

“Fuck yeah, mine.” He gently nips at your neck, and you can’t think properly to tell him not to leave any love bites there. Again, you are reminded by how strong he is when he lifts you up and wraps your legs around his waist, walking towards the couch. He lays you down there, and when you see him get down on his knees, you start panicking.

“Manjiro, you don’t have to-“ he grabs your hand and places it on his crotch, and your lips part in shock when you feel the bulge in his pants. Already? Just from making out? Your face was burning enough.

“Feel that? Yeah, I have to.” You let him take off your shoes for you, and let out a surprised squeal when he rids you of your shorts and panties in one go. You hear him groan at the sight, shamelessly spreading your legs wider for him before pressing a kiss to the back of your thigh.

“Can smell you from here, sweet thing.” His voice is raspy, and you only nod in response while licking your lips. Your hands grab at the hem of your shirt and you’re ready to pull it over your head before Mikey stops you.

“Keep it. Wanna fuck you in it.” You feel dizzy at his words. You’ve always known that Mikey was confident but this was a whole new person, not that you were complaining.

Manjiro presses a few loving kisses on your inner thighs before getting to your pussy where he stares at it for a few moments. You don’t have to feel self-conscious, he doesn’t let you as he presses his nose against the patch of pubes sitting right above where you wanted him the most. He parts your pussy lips with his fingers, and swipes his tongue over your folds, smiling when you give that adorable gasp over the initial contact. His thumb pulls the hood of your clit, before pressing his tongue against it. And when he sees the way you squirm and try to move away, he knows he’s doing a good job. His tongue assaults your clit over and over again—kissing, sucking and humming against the sensitive bud as his middle and ring finger push past your folds. You are far too gone to react properly to the intrusion, sitting up with a flushed face and uncontrollable moans leaving your lips.

Your stomach twitches and relaxes a couple of times, and Mikey can tell you are trying not to cum fast. So he curls his fingers up, grazing that one spot that has you covering your mouth and throwing your head back. He keeps finger fucking you at the same angle and pace, grinning to himself when your breathing stutters and you cum around his fingers, gushing so sweetly with the prettiest moans leaving your lips.

Mikey is back on his feet almost immediately, the fucked out look on your face making him groan to himself as he pulls his pants down enough to free his cock from its confines. It’s pretty, has a slight curve to it and the tip is flushed red. Your mouth waters at the sight, hands squeezing your boobs while staring up at him, begging him to put it in your mouth.

“Not today, baby,” he reaches for a random drawer next to him and pulls out a condom. You don’t have to question him before he’s wrapping it around his cock. “Today is all about you.”

It was pretty ironic considering the pathetic moan he lots out the moment he pushes himself inside you. Your pussy welcomes him with so much ease, and you wrap your legs around him to pull him impossibly closer to you. Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him down for a kiss when he starts to move his hips against yours.

“Oh fuck baby, you feel good.” Manjiro says against your lips and you can only moan in response, the angle at which he is fucking you knocking the wind out of your chest. You are already feeling dizzy enough from the sheer force of his thrusts, but when you pull your legs up on his shoulders, Mikey gives you a look that could only mean trouble.

You gasp in surprise when he lifts up your hips, pushing your upper body deeper into the couch and he starts fucking you hard. His hips are driving into yours so harshly that you feel the couch move with every movement and the sounds—fuck, you just hope that the room is soundproof because the cries you are letting out along with Mikey’s occasional groans of “fuck yeah” “that’s it, take it.” Are straight up pornographic.

Your hands try to cling onto his shoulders, but settle on his muscular arms. You feel the muscle flex under your fingers, and you feel a little embarrassed that feeling his strength was what tipped you over the edge. You cum around him with a loud yelp, body stuttering and shuddering against his. You try to cling onto him for support, throwing your head back when you feel him press his thumb against your clit. You whine in overstimulation.

“I can’t—fuck, I can’t!”

“Oh yes you can, come on baby, make me proud.” Your eyes roll to the back of his head at the overwhelming sensation of his cock bullying its way inside along with his thumb over your clit. You think it’s humanly impossible to cum again in such a short amount of time, but you do it. Mikey pulls it out of you and this time, he collapses on top of you as you both reach your orgasms at the same time.

You think it’s magical, your fingers resting at the back of his head to brush the few hairs there. You feel him pant against your skin and hum, pressing a few kisses there.

“Need to clean you up,” you giggle at how sleepy he sounds but nod anyway.

“Yes, you do.”

“Can I just do it with my mouth?” You gasp in terror, trying to push his heavy body off of you.

“No! I’m too sensitive.” You feel him pout against your skin, but he gets off of you and traces his hands over your lower body.

“I like you like this, you’re so pretty.” Mikey reaches his hand up and pinches one of your nipples, making you gasp and smack his hand.

“Manjiro, keep your hands to yourself.” You see his eye twitch at your comment, and suddenly he flips you on all fours and smacks your ass harshly.

“Face down, I need to taste you again.”

2023 ; all works belong to @ slttygeto. do not repost my works on any other platofrm.

[shangchiswife]

logan howlett- a royal tea party

summary: you and logan spend the day babysitting your niece

logan x fem!reader with a smidge of wade x reader

warnings: cursing

word count: 2372

....

It was a bright, sunny morning when your phone buzzed with an urgent call from your cousin.

Her voice, usually calm and collected, was frantic this time.

"The babysitter just canceled on me!" she blurted out before you could even say hello. "I don’t know what to do! I need someone to watch Emma—can you please help?"

You could picture your cousin pacing in a mild panic, but instead of feeling worried, you couldn’t help but smile. The thought of spending time with your lively, giggly four-year-old niece was an easy yes.

“Of course, I’ll watch her,” you replied warmly, already imagining Emma’s excited face when she saw you.

She was adorable, with her chestnut hair always tied into playful pigtails, each one neatly fastened with matching pink bows. And she had the cutest little smile with a little gap in between her front teeth.

“Oh my god thank you so much, you’re such a lifesaver,” your cousin gushed as you laughed.

As you hung up the phone, you glanced over at the living room where Deadpool was lounging on the couch, munching on a bowl of Lucky Charms. 

He looked up, raising an eyebrow as he crunched loudly.

"Babysitting duty today, huh?" he quipped, his voice dripping with mock sympathy. 

“Good luck with that, kid. Tiny humans are way scarier than anything I’ve faced.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress a grin.

Before you could respond, you felt a familiar presence behind you. Logan’s deep voice broke the moment. “Need some help with the kid?”

You turned to see him standing there, his rugged face softening just slightly as he met your gaze.

"I think I’ve got it," you replied, leaning in for a quick kiss. "But it might be fun to see you wrangle a four-year-old."

Logan smirked, his blue eyes gleaming with amusement. "I’ve faced worse."

"Yeah, like sharing a house with Deadpool," you teased.

"Hey, I heard that!" Deadpool shouted from the other room, waving his spoon in mock outrage. “You two would be lost without my sparkling personality.”

Before you could fire back with a retort, the doorbell rang, pulling your attention away.

Your heart skipped with excitement as you practically bounced to the door, eager to see your niece.

When you opened the door, there stood Emma dressed head to toe in a poofy purple princess gown. She had a sparkly tiara perched on her head and a glittery pink wand clutched in one hand and a small toy box in the other. Her eyes lit up when she saw you, and she twirled in place, showing off her dress with a proud little grin.

“Auntie, look! I’m a princess today!” she announced, her voice brimming with joy.

You couldn’t help but grin back. 

“You look absolutely perfect, Your Royal Highness,” you said, giving her a playful bow.

She giggled, clearly loving the attention, before running inside, her dress puffing out around her as she moved. Deadpool peeked his head out from the living room, eyes widening as he spotted her.

“Well who is this little ray of sunshine,” Wade said, abandoning his bowl of cereal and skipping over to your niece who gave him a little smile.

“Prepare yourself, young lady, for the greatest adventure of your day!” he declared with a flourish.

Just as he said that his phone started buzzing.

Deadpool glanced at it, his face dropping into an exaggerated frown of resignation.

“Looks like the universe demands my immediate attention,” he said dramatically, picking up his phone and reading the screen. “Vanessa’s having a crisis, and apparently, only I can save the day.”

Emma’s face fell a little at the thought of losing her new friend. “But… I wanted to play!”

Deadpool knelt to her level, giving her a sympathetic look. 

“I know, princess. But fear not! I shall return. In the meantime, you’ll have to make do with this mere mortal and the very grumpy Wolverine.”

He shot Logan a playful glance. Logan just raised an eyebrow but remained silent, his arms crossed as he watched the exchange.

“Alright, little one,” Deadpool said, giving Emma a gentle pat on the head. “You’re in good hands. Don’t let this place get too boring while I’m gone!”

With that, he dashed out of the house, his departure as dramatic as his entrance.

As the door closed behind him, Logan sighed and moved to sit on the couch, a faint smirk tugging at his lips as he looked at you. “Well, looks like it’s just the three of us now.”

Emma tugged on your sleeve, looking up at you with big eyes.

“Auntie, I’m hungry! Can we have lunch?”

“Of course, sweetheart,” you replied, glancing at Logan. “How about you keep Wolverine entertained while I whip up something special?”

Emma’s eyes sparkled with mischief as she grabbed Logan’s hand and led him toward the toy box she brought.

Logan followed with a slightly apprehensive expression, looking back at you for help while you held back a laugh.

“Come on, Wolverine! We’re going to have a tea party!” Emma announced, her voice filled with anticipation.

Logan, sitting down on the floor next to her, looked unsure. He picked up a tiny plastic tea cup and held it awkwardly.

Emma, blissfully oblivious to his nervousness, was already setting up her tea party with a mix of stuffed animals, dolls, and plastic dishes.

As you cooked Emma’s favorite mac and cheese, the delicious smell of cheese and pasta filled the kitchen. 

From the living room, you could hear Emma’s excited chatter and the clink of plastic tea cups, along with Logan’s good-natured but slightly unsure replies.

Peeking into the living room, you saw Emma sitting cross-legged on a blanket, surrounded by her stuffed animals. 

Logan was next to her, still looking a bit unsure. 

He was trying his best to mimic Emma’s actions with a mix of seriousness and curiosity. 

The girl poured imaginary tea into Logan’s cup, and he took a careful, exaggerated sip, playing along with a grin.

“Thank you for the tea, Mr. Wolverine,” Emma said, giving a little curtsy and smiling brightly.

Logan managed a shy but genuine smile. “You’re welcome, Princess Emma. This is definitely the best tea party I’ve ever attended.”

Emma beamed and handed Logan a plate of plastic cookies with a flourish. Logan took the plate with a polite nod and pretended to take a bite. 

Emma giggled at his effort, clearly delighted by his participation.

Suddenly, Emma’s eyes lit up with an idea. She carefully removed her sparkly tiara and placed it on Logan’s head. “Now you’re a royal knight!” she declared with pride.

Logan looked a bit surprised but played along, adjusting the tiara with a small, amused smile.

Just then, as Logan reached for another imaginary cookie, the plastic teacup wobbled and fell to the floor with a soft clink. 

Emma’s eyes widened, and she burst into uncontrollable laughter. She rolled on the floor, her giggles filling the room and making her cheeks flush pink.

Logan glanced down at the fallen cup, then back at Emma, who was laughing so hard she could barely breathe. 

After a moment, he couldn’t help but smile, shaking his head with a laugh. 

“Looks like I’ve made quite the mess at this tea party.”

Emma, still laughing, managed to say, “You made it even funnier, Mr. Wolverine!”

As you walked into the room, carrying a tray of mac and cheese, you saw Logan wearing the tiara and Emma rolling on the floor with laughter. 

You couldn’t help but chuckle. 

“Wow, I could get used to this sight,” you said with a grin, bending down to press a kiss to your partner’s cheek.

Logan shook his head good-naturedly. 

“Guess I’m officially part of the royal court now.”

Emma clapped her hands, delighted by your reaction. “And you look perfect!”

As you finished setting the table, the mouthwatering smell of mac and cheese filled the air. When you brought the steaming dish to the table, Emma’s eyes lit up with excitement.

“Yummy! Mac and cheese!” she exclaimed, eagerly scrambling off the blanket and rushing to her seat.

As you all sat down to eat, Emma chattered excitedly about her tea party.

Despite his initial nerves, Logan quickly warmed up, asking your niece about her imaginary kingdom and getting into the play with genuine enthusiasm.

“You know,” you said to Logan as you scooped some mac and cheese onto Emma’s plate, “seeing you play along like this with Emma, I can’t help but think about how amazing you’d be with our future kids.”

Logan looked up, his expression softening. “You think so?”

“Oh I know so,” you replied, giving his hand an affectionate squeeze.

Logan responded by bringing your hand to his lips, causing Emma to let out an exaggerated squeal. 

“Eww, no kissing!” she said, scrunching up her nose.

Logan chuckled, pulling back with a mock pout. 

“Alright, no kissing,” he said, giving Emma a playful wink. “But you have to admit, I’m pretty good at this tea party thing.”

Emma giggled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “You’re the best knight ever!”

The doorbell rang suddenly, causing everyone to turn their heads. 

You went to answer it, and moments later, Deadpool burst back into the room. He froze mid-step when he saw Logan sitting there with Emma’s sparkly tiara perched on his head.

“Holy chimichangas, what’s this?” Deadpool exclaimed, his eyes widening in exaggerated disbelief. “Logan, is that a tiara on your head? Did you lose a bet or something?”

Logan looked up, clearly irritated, but trying to keep his cool. “You’re lucky Emma’s here otherwise I’d beat the shit out of you,” he said through gritted teeth as you put your hands on the little girl’s ears for the last part.

Deadpool laughed, dramatically holding his hands up in surrender. 

“Okay, okay! I’ll stop teasing. But I have to admit, you’re really rocking that tiara,” he said, blowing a kiss at him and making your boyfriend roll his eyes.

Emma giggled at the playful banter, clearly delighted by the attention. “Mr. Wolverine looks so funny!”

Logan shook his head with a smirk. “Yeah, yeah. Just don’t expect me to wear this every day.”

As you all finished lunch and chatted, the room was filled with warmth and laughter. 

When it was time for Emma to head home, she gave everyone a big hug.

But as her mom arrived to pick her up, Emma’s smile began to waver. She looked up at Logan with big, pleading eyes. “Can’t I stay a little longer? I want to play more with Mr. Wolverine.”

Logan’s expression softened, and he crouched down to her level. 

“I’m sorry, princess, but it’s time for you to go home. But we’ll have another tea party soon, okay?”

Emma’s lower lip trembled, and she burst into tears. “But I don’t want to go! I want to stay with Mr. Wolverine!”

You quickly knelt beside her, gently rubbing her back. “I know, sweetie. I promise we’ll plan another playdate very soon. You had such a great time today, didn’t you?”

Emma sniffled, nodding reluctantly. “Okay...”

“Hey, don’t worry, kiddo. Next time, I’ll join in the fun too, and I promise not to embarrass Mr. Wolverine too much. Or at least, not more than he embarrasses himself.”

Emma managed a small smile through her tears. “Really? You won’t make fun of Mr. Wolverine?”

“Only if he’s wearing something less fabulous than this tiara!” Deadpool joked, pointing to Logan’s head. “I mean, look at that sparkle. How could I possibly top that?”

Emma managed a small smile through her tears, and with one last hug for Logan and you, she left with her mom.

As the door closed behind them, you looked at Logan, who was still wearing the tiara with a fond smile. 

“You know,” you said, stepping closer and adjusting the tiara slightly, “You really nailed the royal knight look today.”

Logan chuckled, tipping the tiara playfully. “Yeah, well, I guess it’s not every day I get to be the guest of honor at a tea party.”

Wade grinned from ear to ear sauntering over your way.

“I gotta say, peanut, you’ve set the bar pretty high. I mean, the tiara, the tea party etiquette—it’s like you were born for this.”

Logan’s eye twitched slightly. “Wade, if you don’t shut up, I’m gonna show you exactly what I was born for.”

Deadpool threw his hands up in surrender, still grinning like a Cheshire cat. 

“Alright, alright! No need for violence, big guy. I’m just saying, the whole tea-party-knight-in-shining-armor thing is really your hidden talent. You should lean into it more often.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, watching Logan trying to hold onto his patience. “You’re just jealous, Wade,” you said, giving Logan a supportive nudge. “Logan actually knows how to keep a princess happy.”

Wade scoffed in mock indignation. “Please, I’d be the best tea party guest ever. I’d bring the snacks, the party games, and maybe a little bit of chaos. You know, just to keep things interesting.”

Logan groaned, finally yanking the tiara off his head and tossing it onto the couch. “I’ve had enough of your kind of ‘interesting,’ Wade. You’re on thin ice.”

Deadpool grinned wider, clearly enjoying every second of Logan’s irritation. 

“You know you love me,” He raised his hands and shaped them into a heart, batting his eyelashes in exaggerated sweetness.

“Keep telling yourself that,” Logan muttered, though a small, reluctant smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

You shook your head, trying to suppress your laughter as Wade wiggled his eyebrows at Logan. “Face it, Logan,” you teased, “you’re stuck with us.”

Logan’s gaze softened as he looked at you. 

“Yeah, I guess I am,” he said, his voice tinged with fondness. 

Then, with a sideways glance at Wade, he added, “Though I could do with a little less chatter from some people.”

Wade threw his hands up in a dramatic shrug. 

“Hey, I’m just here to add spice to your otherwise dull existence. Admit it, you’d miss me if I were gone.”

Logan’s smirk grew as he leaned back into the couch, pulling you closer. 

“Don’t push your luck, Wade.”

[poisonlove]

Hotcake | j.o

Pairing: Jenna Ortega X reader

A/n: I know, it's short 🥞

After a long day of filming, some of the cast of Wednesday were hanging out in Jenna's trailer, trying to relax and enjoy each other’s company. Emma was sitting next to me on the couch, amused by Percy’s antics. Georgie was chatting with Hunter about light topics, while I simply smiled and watched my colleagues with amusement.

But out of the corner of my eye, I kept an eye on Jenna.

The brunette was sitting in an armchair just a few feet away from us, with her headphones around her neck and her phone in hand, presumably replying to messages from family and friends. Even though she was distracted and not actively participating in the conversation, I knew she valued our presence.

Her brown eyes often drifted towards us, and a small smile that revealed her dimples appeared whenever something amused her.

It was such a light and perfect smile that it gave me butterflies in my stomach.

"I’m hungry," Percy suddenly mumbled, stretching out on the couch with an exhausted expression.

Emma shot him an amused glance. "You’re always hungry."

George laughed. "Yeah, it’s no surprise."

Percy made a face but couldn’t suppress a laugh. "What can I do? Working with you all wears me out."

Everyone laughed, but I couldn’t take my eyes off Jenna. Just then, she looked up from her phone and glanced at us. Her lips curved into a slight smile as she listened to our conversation.

"I can make some hotcakes if you’d like," she offered with a small smile.

The room erupted into a chorus of approval.

"Hotcakes!" George exclaimed, as if he had just won the lottery.

"Jenna, I love you!" Percy shouted, almost jumping off the couch with excitement.

Jenna lowered her gaze, blushing slightly from all the attention. It was clear she didn’t enjoy being the center of such a commotion and that the open displays of affection made her uncomfortable.

"Does anyone want to help me?" she asked timidly.

Jenna’s eyes moved between the guests, lingering on mine for just a fraction of a second longer than necessary. My face flushed and a warm feeling spread through my chest as her coffee-colored irises met mine, and a smile seemed on the verge of breaking through.

Jenna made a little grimace, and disappointment showed on her face for the lack of response.

Emma gave me a nudge.

"Ouch!" I looked at the brunette in confusion, and she raised an eyebrow at me. "She was referring to you, idiot," Emma said with a mischievous smile.

My cheeks turned bright red.

I immediately felt embarrassed, but at the same time, I couldn’t deny the wave of excitement that hit me. Jenna was looking at me, and for a moment, we exchanged such an intense gaze that I forgot about everyone else.

"Ah, yes, sure," I said, trying to sound calm, though my heart was racing. "I’ll help you gladly."

As I made my way to the kitchen, I could feel Jenna’s gaze fixed on me. Even though she was always very reserved and shy, there was something in the way she looked at me that made my heart pound. She didn’t say much, but her glances and faint smiles made me blush instantly.

"Thank you for your help," she said with her usual calm and composed voice as she handed me a bowl of flour.

"No problem," I replied, trying to seem as nonchalant as possible. "Although... I can’t promise I’ll be very useful." I chuckled, trying to ease the growing tension between us.

Jenna gave a small smile, looking down at the counter. "You’re already more useful than Percy," she joked. "He’d probably burn even water."

I couldn’t help but laugh, and she looked at me again, this time with a wider smile. "You’re probably right," I added. "Although I think Emma wouldn’t even let him near the stove."

Jenna nodded, laughing quietly. "Yeah, she’s like... the mom of the group."

As we exchanged these light-hearted remarks, the atmosphere continued to lighten. We worked together to prepare the hotcake batter, and every now and then, our hands would brush against each other by accident. Each time it happened, I felt a little shiver run down my spine, but I tried not to let it show.

"Okay," I said, trying to focus on the task at hand, "what do we do now?"

"You need to mix the flour with the milk," Jenna explained, gesturing to the bowl. "But be careful not to make a mess."

"I make no promises," I replied jokingly, beginning to mix with a concentrated expression. However, something went wrong. Maybe I had mixed too vigorously, or maybe it was just my natural clumsiness, but suddenly a small puff of flour flew out of the bowl, scattering everywhere.

Jenna laughed, covering her mouth with one hand. Her laughter was so sweet and genuine that it struck me deeply, leaving me dumbfounded.

"See, I told you!" she exclaimed, shaking her head with amusement.

I immediately felt embarrassed, trying to clean up the mess I had made. "Okay, yeah, maybe I’m not cut out for cooking."

She looked at me with that intense gaze, her lips curled into a mischievous smile. "Don’t worry," she said softly, and then, with a quick motion, grabbed a pinch of flour and dabbed it on my nose.

I was taken aback for a moment, then looked at her incredulously, flour smeared on my nose. "Really?" I asked, pretending to be offended.

Jenna burst into laughter, her face lighting up in a way I rarely saw on set. It was a contagious sound that brightened her face and brought out the adorable dimples in her cheeks. That sight made me blush immediately, with the warmth spreading rapidly from my chest to my face.

"You had it coming," she said between laughs. "You made flour fly everywhere!"

I couldn’t help but smile too. "Okay, fine," I said, trying not to let myself be distracted by how her eyes sparkled when she laughed. "But now it’s war."

Without thinking too much, I grabbed a small handful of flour and attempted to smear it on her face, but she was faster. She moved to the side, avoiding the hit, and looked at me with a challenging expression.

"Oh, so we’re playing dirty?" she murmured, moving closer. Her eyes were locked on mine, and for a moment, I felt completely entrapped by her deep gaze.

The tension between us shifted suddenly. The laughter faded, replaced by a silence filled with anticipation. Jenna was still close, maybe too close, and my heart began to race, making it impossible to ignore the effect she had on me.

Her eyes looked at me intensely.

"How much longer? I’m starving!" Percy’s voice interrupted from the living room.

Jenna diverted her gaze from me, blushing slightly, and headed towards the stove.

With a swift motion, she started cooking, trying to regain her focus. Her face was still flushed, and she struggled to concentrate while preparing the hotcakes, while I, with an amused smile, watched her return to her routine, embracing the chaos and complaints from the rest of the cast.

Damn Percy

[m-ilkiee]

Monsters: Manjiro "Mikey" Sano x Reader x Izana Kurokawa

“He ate my heart”

Pairings: Manjiro ‘Mikey’ Sano x female reader, Izana Kurokawa x female reader

Series summary: Your grievous sin was Emma standing up for you to her brothers. And now you’re going to pay the heavy price for destroying their perfect family dynamic.

Content warning generally: DARK CONTENT, Tokyo revengers AU, female reader, virgin reader, heavy smut, polyamory, Dark Impulse Mikey, Manipulative Izana, inaccurate/inconsistent university terminology, heavy angst with little comfort, betrayal, misogyny and sexism, emotional, physical and mental abuse, mental break, manipulation, gaslighting, sexual harrassment, dubious consent, noncon, drug, alcohol and substance misuse/abuse, extreme violence, use of weapons, Torture, criminal activities, PTSD, paranoia, emotional incest, power imbalance, character death(s) (not reader), anal penetration, mention of self-harm, religious guilt and trauma, religious themes, Vouyeurism, gangbang, masochism, sadism, hard kinks, strangulation (non sexual), psychological horror (more warnings to be added soon)

main masterlist||taglist link||playlist [available on a03 + extra chapters and wattpad]

Chapter 1: Warning Signals

chapter summary: Being friends with Emma Sano is nice, until you get on the wrong side of the Sano brothers.

cw: DARK CONTENT, NSFW, misogyny, alcohol/drug use, brief mention of violence, religious and purity culture themes, classism, slutshaming, p*rn mention, sexual assault, noncon, public initimacy, fingering (fem recieving), dacryphilia, gaslighting, manipulation, mention of vomitting, victim blaming.

wc: 10.1k

Chapter 2: Shots Fired

chapter summary: Izana Kurokawa demands your attention and he doesn’t take no for an answer. Not even when his demands are outrageous.

cw: DARK CONTENT, MISOGYNY, NSFW, r*pe mention, religious guilt, depictions of PTSD and CPTSD, emotional incest, abandoment issues, violence, revenge porn, depression, filming without consent, drugging, victim blaming, blackmailing, manipulation, gaslighting, mind break, psychological torture, use of firearms

wc: 11.6k

Chapter 3: The Lesser of Two Devils

chapter summary: Emma has a suspicion that both her brothers are into you when you all go shopping. She couldn’t be farther from the truth.

cw: DARK CONTENT, MISOGYNY, NSFW, smut (character x character), dubcon, noncon, depressive thoughts, victim blaming, sucidial ideation, religious guilt & discussion (very brief), gaslighting, power imbalance, manipulation, abuse (domestic, verbal, sexual, finanical), love bombing, violence (physical, mental, sexual), slut shaming, peer pressure, dry humping, attempted rape, nonconsensual filming.

wc: 13.3k

Chapter 4: The Calm

chapter summary: After your college professor tries to harass you for grades, you turn to the oldest Sano for help. But nothing comes for free, not even for Emma’s sweet friend.

cw: coming soon

wc:

Chapter 5: Act on Dark Impulses

chapter summary: You knew better than to trust Mikey and Izana. Yet you fall for their plan hook, line and sinker and live through the worst night of your life.

cw: coming soon

wc:

Chapter 6: The Closest you’ll ever get to being in Love

chapter summary: Things get sicker and twisted with the two brothers and Emma is none the wiser.

cw: coming soon

wc:

Chapter 7: Trials and Tribulations

chapter summary: You learn the hard way what happens when you refuse to be their stress relief because of your important exams.

cw: coming soon

wc:

Chapter 8: Divine Intervention

chapter summary: You are called home to bury your mother and learn that nothing has changed since you left.

cw: coming soon

wc:

Chapter 9: Lead me not into Temptation

chapter summary: Emma notices that something isn’t right with you when you come visit her in the Sano residence.

cw: coming soon

wc:

Chapter 10: Deliver Me from All Evil

chapter summary: You’ve finally broken the cycle, but at what cost?

cw: coming soon

wc:

authors notes: updates are irregular, depending on when i have time. some chapters have been re-written to fit the original storyline. don't pressure me to update and please don't be rude to me. I do not condone any negative actions done on this fic. comments, reblogs and asks are very much appreciated. if you are a minor, please refrain from interracting with this series.

taglist (please turn on your mentions in 'settings' before filling the form.): @officiallyjaehyuns @haikyuusboringassmanager @ilybbg @merrymerrykiss @cockonoi @Rindou24689 @short-cxke @kokoch4n3l @GenAwi @ryuguji-sana @nuyoo @getonite @anxious-chick @reiners-milkbiddies @kiwixpi @gh0stgirl333 @brisssaaa009 @fushiqruo @kawaiikoalagarden @damidamimongalam @raven-nevra

[mionemymind]

Don't Say Something Stupid

Summary: Wanda is unable to commit yet unable to admit she's wrong. (Part Two of Don't Ask Stupid Questions)

Warnings: Pure Angst, No Happy Ending, Maybe Part Three?

A/n: Wanted to hurt y'all more, so here y'all go :) Gif credits go to @thedorkphoenix

Word Count: 662

Masterlist

Part One | Part Two

“Y/n, your new partner is Emma.” Wanda turned her attention from Vision to Steve at the mention of Emma. Trying to hold back her offense, Wanda commented, “Y/n is my partner.”

Wanda looked back at Y/n, but their eyes hadn’t met as Y/n continued to stare at Emma’s file. “We believe their powers work better together, Wanda. Plus, your new assigned partner is Vision as your mind stones should help with increased efficiency and communication.”

Wanda held back the comment on the tip of her tongue. It wasn’t appropriate to say stupid things like, “But she’s always been my partner.”

“You dumped Vision?” Natasha asked surprisingly. Wanda looked away as she could tell Y/n had heard the comment with the way her shoulders tensed. 

“He kept wanting more and honeslty…” Wanda sighed, feeling more guilty of the additional person she led on, “…and I couldn’t give him that.”

Natasha nodded in understatement as she squeezed Wanda’s shoulder. “Was it because y’all didn’t have the connection?” Wanda shook her head, feeling lost as to why she even did it in the first place. 

“Honestly, I’m not too sure…I rather admit that before saying something stupid.” Wanda tried her best not to look at Y/n’s slumped shoulders as she proceeded to get up from the coach and walk to her room. 

And as Natasha continued to talk, Wanda didn’t dare to remember how much Y/n hated feeling stupid. 

“Why did you get in my way?” Emma was held back by Y/n as she aggressively questioned Wanda. “You almost got Y/n and I hurt with that stunt you pulled.”

Wanda rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. “Had it not been for my quick thinking, Y/n would’ve got hurt and you would’ve been swarmed.” 

“We had it handled,” Emma bit back. And before Wanda could get another word, Y/n locked eyes with her, and silently pleaded to stop. Seeing Wanda’s stance falter, Y/n pulled Emma back and mumbled, “Let’s not fight anymore. We’ll figure it out a different day so come on.”

While Y/n tugged on Emma’s hand, Wanda mind couldn’t stop thinking of stupid things. The main one being, “Were you even on my side?” 

“Are you ignoring me?” Wanda caught Y/n in the hallway, almost close to the spot where they used to secretly make out. The red head could tell that Y/n had wanted to be anywhere else but there with her. Although it stung, Wanda wanted answers.

“Wanda - I - let’s just be cordial.” Feeling even more confused, Wanda backed Y/n into the wall with her arms crossed. 

“Cordial? You don’t even speak to me anymore.” Y/n still didn’t look at Wanda’s eyes. The girl was absolutely frustrated at how dense Wanda could be as if she couldn’t read the room.

“Well…” Y/n swallowed her anxiety and pain and finally looked into Wanda’s eyes, “…rules are rules. I broke them so this is me moving on from it.”

Wanda stepped back, feeling slapped and shocked at the confession. “Moving on? Are you seriously unable to continue without having feelings involved?” The red head didn’t know where this fierceness came from. It certainly didn’t explain what she truly meant. But she was always too stubborn to think it through. 

Y/n scoffed, not surprised that Wanda could barely understand her place. “You ‘re right, I seriously don’t know why I ever fell for you.” The smug look on Wanda’s face fell. She’s had many people admit their feelings for her but none have ever admitted to regretting them.

Y/n didn’t wait for Wanda’s response and started to walk away but Wanda’s hand stopped her from going. Not wanting to hear anything more, Y/n blurted, “Don’t say anything stupid now, Wanda.”

Snatching her hand out of Wanda’s grip, Y/n declared, “You might get your heart broken if you do.”

Taglist: @halobaby  @arelyitsherec8 @blackxwidowsxwife @cristin-rjd @madamevirgo @trikruismybitch @paradiselost916 @mmmmokdok @morbid-gaymer @dailyavengering @itsnottilly @helloalycia @randomshyperson @tomy5girls @daenerys713 @ensorcellme @lezzzbehonesthere @imagine-reblog

@sighsam @olsensnpm @tquick99 @feolok @emilyprentisslittlewhore @mvddison99 @iamapotato @yuhloversxx @mjaudrey @upsidedowndanvers @somewhatgreatexpectations @wandavixen @magicallymaximoff @username23345 @coollemonsaresour @littlewinchester15 @aimezvousbrahms @afuckingshituniverse @am-just-a-cosmic-joke-to-me 

@ohmygooddamnbisexualmood @diaryoflife @s7uts @newyork1432 @the-anxious-stargazer @hello-mtf @marvelousbelladonna @ima-gi–na-tion @obsessed-with-wandamaximoff @the-camilucha 

@itsnottilly @171611 @kaitlynroseb @daisybri7 @drpepperobsessed @bemyvitamin @musicinourlips @marvelousbelladonna @gingerbreadcookieforlife @xastrydx @chasethemoon @naixia00 @lostandsearching @stupidsapphicsstuff @haechanana @the-camilucha @severepeanutartisanhands @owloftheshadows @somewhatgreatexpectations @ywuen @mixed-fandom-mess @loomontoia @ilovemarvelwomen @coxmicbabygirl  @cyanide-mustard @mrs-avenger3000 @prentisshoe @andrea-stark @simpforwandanat @abimess @randomshyperson @yourtaletotell @magically-queer-stuff 

@imapotatao @iliketozoneout @maximoffbrossupremacy​@olsensnpm​ @psychadelichues​ @whitelotus00 @taliiiaasteria @tynix @autorasexy @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @hiiraya @reginassweetheart @milkeeteaa

@msmothermaximoff @unicorniusfallapatorius @cakechan123 @anniedanvers @oh-thats-cute @ielliesitcheyereposts @how-to-disappearrr @justyourwritter69 @canvascoloredin (Wanted to tag y'all because I think y'all wanted a part two, but I won't add y'all to future taglists unless you want me to)

[daisyblog]

You, Me and Baby

Young Love Masterlist Summary: Louis and YN discover they’re going to have a baby, but YN’s parents are far from pleased.

warning: highly sensitive topics, positive pregnancy test, pregnancy, mentions of abortion, emotional abuse, swearing, arguing, shouting

The bright shining sun teased her through the window as she waited patiently for the time to be up. YN’s heart thumped against her chest, as her eyes stared at the plastic stick sat on her bedside table.

Her period was 7 days late, and as much as she blamed hormones, stress and “it’ll come tomorrow”, YN knew she needed to take a pregnancy test just to rule out one of the main reasons her period still hadn’t made an appearance.

YN felt her chest take a deep breath as she prepared herself to turn over the test, the weight felt heavy on her shoulders. She debated if she should have told Louis but after arguing with herself, she decided she to do it by herself.

The shaky fingers reached for the white plastic that determined her future. She closed her eyes as she turned it over. Waiting for her breath to calm, she opened her eyes with force and there sat the answer.

Two pink lines.

YN feels her chest tighten as her heart beats against hit with a thud. Of course she had considered the possibility of her being pregnant but part of her believed her period was just late.

She wasn’t sure how long she had been staring at the two lines, her phone had been pinging next to her. She knew it was Louis and her friends. They had planned to hang out that afternoon. Knowing they were probably waiting for her, she placed the test and box in her bedroom bin and decided she would hide it later on before her parents got home.

---

YN tried to put a smile on her face throughout the afternoon as they all went to grab some lunch, before heading over to Ella’s house. But Louis knew YN better than she realised, he noticed how much quieter she was. He saw when she pushed the food around her plate, hardly eating anything. He knew she was faking her smile as she chatted to Ella and Hannah from across the table. Louis quickly made up an excuse that he needed to go home and help with his sisters, YN giving him a grateful smile knowing it was her way out of the gathering too,

Trying to find a quiet moment to tell Louis, was very hard to come by in the Tomlinson house. YN loved spending time at Louis, the chaos and the love was enough to warm her heart. She loved that although Louis was seventeen, he would still play the childish games with his sisters and watching as he helped Phoebe and Daisy with their building blocks, she couldn’t help but think that the baby she was currently carrying inside her may be luckiest little one to have such a loving father.

YN tried to pluck up the courage, knowing she had to tell Louis soon because she could feel it threaten to spill at any moment. “Lou…can we-“.

“Louis..YN…come and have a look at our dance show!”. Lottie ran into the lounge, interrupting the teenagers. But how could they say no.

Time was nearing where YN had to leave to go back home. She still hadn’t got the chance to tell Louis but the longer it was going on, the harder it was to start the conversation.

The sound of knocking could be heard from the living area but neither thought anything of it as Jay went to answer it.

“Where is he? Did you know about this?”. The sound of her father’s voice bellowing caught YN’s ears.

Without thought Louis and YN went into the hallway to see what the shouting was about. “Carl…if you’ll calm down…whatever is going on we can talk about this”. Jay’s motherly voice was a comfort to YN when she could see the anger covering her father’s face.

“Me calm down? I’m not fucking calming down! Do you know how angry me and Emma are right now? I’ll tell you how angry…fucking furious!”. Carl’s voice and anger continued to escalate.

YN stood slightly behind Louis, embarrassed at the show her father was putting on right now. “Dad! Please!”. She gulped down the nerves, knowing how silly she had been leaving the pregnancy test in clear view.

His angry eyes snapped to see YN and Louis stood there. “You!” He pointed at Louis, trying to take a step forward only for Jay to place her arm to stop him. “You…you’ve ruined our lives! You-”. Louis protectively stood in front of YN, have stood behind him, their hands still secured in each others.

Jay had been calm since the moment Carl had began shouting but when it came to her children, she would not tolerate it. “Excuse me! You don’t talk to anyone like that…especially my son! That’s my son you’re talking to and I will not have it!”.

Carl let out a sarcastic breath with a fake chuckle. “Well I hate to break it to you darling but your precious little son has got my daughter pregnant!”.

YN could feel Louis tense as her father revealed what she had been hiding. She knew this was the moment that she was left just her and the little baby they had created. She could feel the tears burn her eyes, her heart thumped deep in her body.

“I’m sorry”. YN whispered for Louis to hear as she rested her head against his tense back. He remained still in his spot, silent as the words sunk in but his fingers rubbing her hand was the tiny bit of reassurance she needed in that moment.

“You are a vile and disgusting man!”. Jay spoke up, breaking the silence that surrounded the four of them. “You come to my house…shout, swear and scream when I have four young children sleeping upstairs…you threaten my son and humiliate your own daughter…you should be ashamed of yourself!”.

Louis and YN still stood in the exact same spot, watching the scene in front of them unfold. YN had been hurt by her parents for as long as she could remember but the next few words her father spoke stung.

“I’m ashamed that she is my daughter and got knocked up at seventeen…she’s humiliated us!”. His voice was full of hatred and the look of disgust on his face said a million words. “You get rid of that baby or you’re out on the streets!”.

“Get out of my house now before I call the police!”. Jay’s motherly instincts when into overdrive. “You don’t deserve a daughter like YN…and don’t come near my son and YN again!”. Jay slammed the front door shut, before turning to look at Louis and YN. “Cup of tea anyone?”.

---

With cups of tea in each of their hands, the three of them sat in the lounge area. YN couldn’t think properly at the moment. From finding out she was pregnant this morning, to not having a home anymore was a lot to process.

“I’m really sorry you had to find out that way”. YN didn’t look up from her hands that held the beige mug. “I’ve tried to find a way all day to tell you”.

“You don’t have to be sorry babe, I’m just shocked…I wasn’t expecting it”. Louis gently spoke from next to her. Jay listened from her seat, feeling so proud at how mature her son was being and it was in that moment that she knew she had raised him well. “We’re in this together, yeah?”.

YN couldn’t find the words but a small nodded was all she could manage as she looked up at Louis.

“YN?”. Her eyes followed Jay’s voice. “You have a home here and I’m with you both every step of the way…you’re part of this family!”.

Taglist:

@ell0ra-br3kk3r @slaymybreathaway @wh0s-nadii

[natlovesls2]

You're Lying, Right?

Lando x Fem!Reader x Charles

*ੈ✩‧₊˚warnings: swearing, drinking and mentions of alcohol (might be inaccurate, I don’t drink), format might be weird (this wasn't saving the way I wanted it to),

*ੈ✩‧₊˚word count: 1k

*ੈ✩‧₊˚Summary: Lando and Charles teach you to kiss after you confess that you've never been kissed

.ೃ࿐Request: Idk if you watched the movie Were the Millers?? But can you do imagine where reader never had a first kiss and charles and lando give her her first kiss ?? Like the scene with Jenn Anniston, will poulter, and Emma roberts ???

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙

The three of you had been drinking for whatever reason, and to be completely honest, you couldn’t exactly remember why the bottles of alcohol had been brought out in the first place. However, you knew the drink in your hand was stronger than the stuff you usually drank, but after the horrible few days you had, it was needed. Its surprisingly sweet smell inviting you to take big gulps. The burn as it passed down your throat numbing the thoughts of your busy life and failed dates. You subconsciously continued to fill your glass with the earthy-fruity liquid, one glass after another– silently watching Charles and Lando interact with one another.

"You're awfully quiet," Lando said from beside you, reaching for your drink to fill it with something new, hesitating when he noticed your slight frown. 

"She had a date yesterday; I can only assume it went horribly," Charles added, moving from his spot to lean against the armrest of the sofa. 

Lando hummed at the newfound information, disapprovingly shaking his head, deciding you had had enough to drink– knowing another glass would not help alleviate whatever pain you felt. “Don't tell me you're attempting to drown your sorrows with liquor. What even happened on this date of yours?"

"The date itself wasn't the worst; it was actually the best I've had in a while– but when the date ended, he expected a kiss. And I know I have to have my first kiss at some point, but I didn't want to disappoint him."

They stared at you for a long time, letting silence settle in the room– you were suddenly aware of the increased warmth. Regret and embarrassment immediately fill your body, urging you to want to vomit up everything you had been drinking. Of course, you had to have the loosest fucking lips known to man when drunk. Actually, you couldn't fully blame the alcohol; the amount you had consumed only slightly gave you a buzzing feeling– enough to feel tipsy. 

“You’re lying, right? I mean, you have to be joking, no?” Lando's small laughter stopped as he noticed your humorless demeanor and sick-looking face– awkwardly clearing his throat, body shifting at Charles's glaring gaze. 

"It's nothing to be embarrassed about. Everyone experiences life differently; it just so happens to be that you haven't had your first kiss," Charles nodded in your direction, still glaring at Lando– urging him to add to what he said, hoping to ease your embarrassment. 

"Yeah, absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about. I mean, some people find that sweet."

"Obviously, my date didn't find it sweet... I'm surprised he didn't laugh in my face. Honestly, it fucking pathetic," you let out a dry laugh, picking at the strings of your ripped jeans. You sighed, looking up in time to notice Lando nudging Charles and nodding in your direction. He mouths something to Lando, which you can't quite make out; you'd never been good at reading lips or people. Lando opened and closed his lips a few times as if having a struggle with himself– unsure if he should say something or let Charles take control of the situation. 

"We could always teach you how to kiss," he finally says, watching your face for any sort of reaction, noticing the way your eyes widen at the nonchalantness of his words. "–only if you want to, of course," he quickly adds, sensing your hesitation and overall embarrassment over the situation. 

You feel the world around you slow down, the noise slowly dissipating– replaced by a low ringing sound you can't quite place. You barely notice yourself nodding, nervously running your hands down the front of your jeans, attempting to get rid of the clammy feeling– which only increased at the soft touch of Lando's hand on your cheek. "It's weird if you keep your eyes open," he whispered, holding back a laugh, not wanting to make you any more embarrassed than you already were. You closed your eyes and swallowed the little saliva you had– an attempt to calm yourself, finding your mouth extremely dry. Your heart quicked at this; what if the kiss was too dry? The desire to vomit returned and your throat tightened itself as a final attempt to hold everything down.

 Lando's hand gently caressed your cheek, trailing down to your jaw, pulling you in closer– his warm breath falling against your skin. His lips hovered over your own for a while before they finally connected in an awkwardly stiff kiss. "It wasn't bad," he reassured you, smiling when he noticed the way your eyes nervously bounced around the room– avoiding his own. "Just relax a bit, don't be too stiff." 

He leaned forward again, soft lips moving against your own; in complete contrast to the first kiss, this one was looser– relaxed and something you could see yourself enjoying despite the foreign feeling. His hand moved up to tangle itself in your hair, his tongue lightly running against your bottom lip. You weren't sure if it was the alcohol that finally reached your senses helping you relax, but whatever it was that possessed you to open your lips was definitely on your side. The sweetness of your past drinks mixed with the bitterness of whatever he had been drinking. "See, I told you you just needed to loosen up." 

"I don't know... I feel like you're only being nice about it."

"I'll tell you the truth; let's see what Lando has taught you– or if he taught you well," Charles says, his voice reminding you that he had been there watching the whole interaction, sitting beside you on the other side of the sofa. 

His warm hand pulls you towards him, connecting his lips against yours in a confident kiss. While Lando's kiss had felt firm and loose– slightly messy, this was a lot more calculated. He pulled you closer, hands moving to gently grip the hair at the nape of your neck. "You can definitely impress your next date."

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙

[authortelevision]

arthur frederick and the new producer: the end₊˚⊹♡

words: 7, 504✦ .ᐟ

♯┆arthurtv slow burn, bach and arthur podcast

after lara leaves bach and arthur’s podcast, you become her replacement. after discovering that arthur hates change, it takes a lot for him to warm up to you and become friends. it also takes a lot for him to admit how he truly feels about you.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁౨ৎ. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

Chapter Nine

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁౨ৎ. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

Chapter Ten ₊˚⊹♡

You and Isaac sat across from each other at the table in the studio, cards in hand, as you both played a game of Uno. Arthur, sitting off to the side, was eating his lunch, looking mildly amused but mostly preoccupied with his food.

“Why did you even bring this here?” you asked Isaac as you placed a card down with a satisfying slap.

Isaac shrugged, not looking up from the game. “I don’t know, just in case Arthur gets too boring so we can actually have fun.”

Arthur, his mouth full of food, glared over at him. “Hey, I heard that,” he muttered, but his words were muffled by a piece of bread.

Isaac smirked, leaning back in his chair. “Ew, Arthur, please stop spitting your food out when you talk,” he said, scrunching up his face in disgust.

Arthur, still chewing, rolled his eyes and shook his head but didn’t bother responding, choosing to focus on finishing his lunch instead.

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head as you drew another card. “I think you just got roasted, Arthur,” you teased, watching him shake his head in mock exasperation as he continued eating, clearly trying not to laugh.

You and Isaac resumed the game, the sound of cards shuffling and playful bickering filling the air, while Arthur, despite his grumbling, seemed oddly content in his corner.

“So,” he began, casually tossing down another card, “you wanna come out with us tonight?”

You raised an eyebrow, tapping your cards against the table as you considered the offer. “Who’s going?” you asked, already wondering if you’d even be up for it.

Isaac shrugged nonchalantly. “You know, like George, Arthur Hill, Chris… the usual people who would go out.”

You hesitated, unsure. “Oh, I don’t think they’d want me there.”

Isaac immediately rolled his eyes, clearly not buying your excuse. “Don’t be stupid,” he said, grinning. “Arthur literally talks about you non-stop when he’s drunk. You’re basically there every night.”

You loved that part of Arthur, the part of him that made him so special to you. He was just so passionate about everything, and it extra special that he was so passionate about you. Regardless of how you felt about Arthur, Isaac’s words echoed in your mind as you tried to play it cool, but you couldn’t help but feel a little caught off guard by his honesty. You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, Arthur, who had been finishing his lunch nearby, suddenly looked up and chimed in.

“Yeah, I mean, I do talk about you. But not as much as he’s making out to be. Any ways, you should come out. It’s fun when you’re with us.”

You looked at him suspiciously, feeling face heat up, but didn’t know what to say. Arthur’s new casual confidence left you speechless for a moment, but Isaac was quick to add, “See? Told you. You’re practically one of us already.”

You bit your lip, looking between them both. “Okay, okay,” you relented with a smile. “I’ll come. But no promises, I might bail early.”

Isaac laughed, clearly satisfied with the result. “You’ll have fun. Trust me.”

————————————

You stood in front of the mirror, finishing off your makeup and double-checking your outfit when Emma suddenly popped her head into your room with a big smile on her face.

“You look so pretty,” she said, her voice genuine as she leaned against the doorframe.

You gave her a funny look, rolling your eyes. “I literally have a boyfriend, you know.”

Emma laughed and walked further into the room, her eyes sparkling. “I know, and I’m so happy for you! Honestly, it’s been so nice seeing you so happy lately.”

You grinned, feeling a little shy at her enthusiasm. “No need to get all sentimental on me.”

She shrugged, a soft smile on her face. “I’m just glad he makes you happy. I was worried for a while, you know, with everything that happened before. But he’s really grown on me. He seems like a good guy.”

You raised an eyebrow, surprised at how supportive she was. “You actually like him?”

Emma nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, I do. He’s a little… annoying sometimes, but I can tell he really cares about you. You deserve that.”

Your heart warmed at her words. “Thanks, Em. That really means a lot to me.”

She gave you a wink. “Of course. Just don’t forget about your old flatmate when you’re busy being all in love with him.”

You laughed and shook your head. “I won’t. Promise.”

You grabbed your jacket and headed for the door, feeling the familiar rush of excitement to see Arthur. As you stepped out of your room, you found Emma now lounging on the sofa, scrolling through her phone.

Before you could leave, you walked over to her, giving her a tight hug. “I really love you, you know,” you said, squeezing her a little tighter. “More than anyone in the world.”

Emma looked up, surprised by your sudden sentiment. She grinned and pulled you in tighter. “Even Arthur?”

You pulled back slightly, giving her a playful look. “Way more than Arthur,” you teased, “You’re my best friend.”

She chuckled, clearly pleased by your words. “I’m glad to hear that,” she said, ruffling your hair. “Go have fun with your boy. I’ll hold down the fort here.”

You smiled, feeling an overwhelming sense of gratitude. “I will, and I’ll see you later.”

With that, you turned and left, closing the door behind you. As you stepped out into the cool air, you spotted Arthur waiting for you, a smile breaking across your face when you saw him.

Everything felt right in that moment, and you couldn’t help but think about how lucky you were to have both Emma and Arthur in your life.

You walked up to Arthur, and as soon as he saw you, his face lit up. Without hesitation, he pulled you into a tight hug, his warmth wrapping around you. You breathed in the familiar scent of his cologne, feeling at peace in his arms.

As he pulled away slightly, he whispered softly in your ear, “You look gorgeous.”

You couldn’t help but giggle, the compliment making your heart skip a beat. A smile spread across your face as you looked up at him.

Turning around, you waved at Emma, who was standing at the door, watching the two of you. She gave you a little wave in return, a content smile on her face.

Arthur followed your gaze, noticing her too, and gave her a casual wave as well. “See you later, Emma!” he called out.

She shot him a playful wink. “Have fun, you two!” she teased, before disappearing back inside.

You smiled to yourself, turning back to Arthur. “Ready to go?” you asked, your hand slipping into his.

“Absolutely,” he replied, his smile only growing as he walked alongside you.

Everything felt right, and the world felt a little more complete with Arthur by your side.

You walked into the bar with Arthur by your side, the bright glow of the warm lights and the buzz of conversations making the atmosphere feel welcoming. As soon as the guys saw you, they greeted you with smiles, and you couldn’t help but feel like it wouldn’t be as bad as you originally thought.

“Hey! It’s nice to see you!” George said first, pulling you into a hug. He was always friendly, and his bear hug made you feel safer.

“I didn’t know you were coming out tonight!” Chris spoke, wrapping you in another hug. “Glad you made it.”

Arthur stood back for a moment, watching with a small smile as the guys showered you with affection. It was clear that they were all happy to see you.

“I didn’t know you were the popular one,” he teased, nudging you playfully.

You smirked at him. “I’m just that good,” you replied, winking.

Isaac, always with a quick joke, grinned at you. “She’s the life of the party now, obviously,” he said. “But, alright, let’s get drinks, yeah?”

They all made their way to the bar, chatting as they ordered drinks for the table. Arthur leaned in slightly, his voice low and teasing, “You’ve got them all wrapped around your finger, huh?”

You laughed softly, rolling your eyes. “It’s not my fault they’re all this nice,” you said, glancing over at the group.

As the drinks arrived, you all made your way back to the table. Laughter and conversation filled the space, and for the first time in a while, you felt completely at ease surrounded by Arthur’s friends.

As you continued the night, you moved to a different location. The club was filled with energy, the music louder as the night wore on. Drinks kept pouring, and everyone seemed to be in high spirits, especially the boys. They were all getting progressively more drunk, their faces flushed with the warmth of alcohol.

Arthur, George, and Chris were joking around, playfully pushing each other, while Isaac sat beside you at the table, leaning back in his chair. He had that relaxed, stupid grin on his face, a little tipsy but still confident with his words.

You looked around, smiling at how affectionate everyone had gotten as the drinks took hold. Arthur wrapped an arm around George’s shoulders as they laughed at some joke, and Chris was constantly giving Arthur playful shoves, all in good fun. It was clear that their relationship was strong, the kind of friendship where physical affection came naturally, but in a totally loving, fun way.

“Hey,” you turned to Isaac, who was busy swirling his drink around. You leaned in a little, wanting to make sure he could hear you over the chatter. “Thank you for inviting me. It really means a lot.”

Isaac looked at you, his face softening as he gave a small nod. “Of course, I’m really glad you came,” he said with a smile. “Plus, you deserve to have some fun, too.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, “It’s nice being here, seeing Arthur so happy.”

He gave you a kind look, raising an eyebrow. “Well, Arthur seems very happy with you, but you might have to fight for his love” he said, gesturing to where Arthur was laughing hysterically at something Chris had said.

You chuckled, glancing at Arthur who was now leaning into George as if they were some kind of drunken conjoined twins. “Yeah,” you said with a grin. “I think I’ll just let Chris have him”

Isaac took a sip of his drink, a small glint in his eyes as he leaned in closer, lowering his voice a bit. “Just so you know, Arthur’s been telling Chris all night that he thinks he loves you,” he said. “Said he’s pretty lucky to have you in his life.”

You weren’t sure how to respond to that. But before you could reply, Chris stumbled over and threw himself dramatically across the table, slinging an arm over your shoulder as he slurred, “This night is amazing, right? I love you guys. You’re all my best friends.”

You laughed, your cheeks warm as Chris smothered you in a hug. “I love you too, Chris,” you said, patting him on the back. It was impossible not to be affected by the overwhelming sense of affection in the air. It was lighthearted, fun, and easy, and you were happy to be a part of it all. You were just so happy to be a part of Arthur’s life like this.

Isaac watched the exchange, shaking his head with a grin. “See?” he said, taking another drink. “That’s what I’m talking about. That man is full of love you gotta hold your boy close to chest.”

You grinned back at him, feeling comfortable in the chaos of the evening. “Yeah, you’re right, I gotta look after my boy.”

As the night went on, the jokes and affection only grew, everyone getting more carefree and silly. But in that moment, as you sat next to Isaac and watched your friends laugh and joke, you felt a deep sense of belonging. You were glad you were there.

Arthur and Chris were in their own little world, joking around across the table. Chris had his arm draped over Arthur’s shoulder, laughing at some ridiculous story, and Arthur was trying to play it cool, though his sappy smile gave away how much he was enjoying it.

Out of nowhere, Chris reached over, giving Arthur a playful smack on the ass. The sound echoed slightly, and Arthur jumped, wide-eyed. He shot Chris a glare, his hands going up in defense.

“Stop! I’m literally married!” Arthur exclaimed, laughing, his voice full of exaggerated outrage. “What’s wrong with you, man?”

Chris just cackled, shaking his head. “What, it’s just a little love tap! Don’t act like you don’t enjoy it.”

You rolled your eyes and leaned back in your chair, glancing at the two of them with a grin. “Chris, you can keep him,” you said.

Arthur dramatically put his hand to his forehead, playing up the melodrama. “Well, guess that’s it for me then,” he said, feigning heartbreak. “I’m being traded off. Someone call my wife.”

Chris raised his glass in victory. “Sorry, Arthur, but I think I’ve got a new favorite.”

You chuckled, watching them laugh back and forth. It was all in good fun, and seeing them so carefree made the night even more enjoyable.

The walk home felt a little surreal, the city streets dim and quiet around you as the adrenaline of the night began to wear off. You’d sobered up enough to feel grounded again, but Arthur, still a little drunk, was stumbling beside you, his steps unsteady but his energy still infectious.

He kept leaning in, pressing soft, playful kisses to your cheek and temple, laughing lightly each time. Every few steps, he’d kiss you again, this time lingering just a bit longer than the last.

“Arthur, stop,” you laughed, trying to push him away gently as you nearly lost your balance from his affection. “You’re gonna trip us both up if you keep doing that.”

He grinned, unbothered by your protest, and leaned in for another kiss, this time targeting your forehead. “I can’t help it,” he said with a little giggle. “You’re just too lovely to resist.”

You half-stumbled as you tried to step around him, giving him a playful shove. “Seriously, I’m not going to be able to walk properly if you keep this up,” you warned, laughing despite yourself.

Arthur just wrapped his arm around your waist to steady you, pulling you closer as if he hadn’t heard a word you said. “I’m helping,” he said, his voice full of that familiar drunken sweetness. He leaned down to plant another quick kiss on your lips, this one too brief for your liking but just enough to make your heart race a little.

“Arthur!” You giggled, unable to hide your smile. “You’re so annoying, oh my god!”

He pulled back, still grinning like he’d just won the lottery. “I know, I know,” he said, his voice slightly slurring but his affection completely clear. “But you like it.”

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head, but the warmth spreading through your chest told you everything you needed to know.

As you finally made it to Arthur’s flat, the warmth of his embrace and his kisses didn’t let up. He was still kissing you, his lips persistent against yours, but he quickly started to shift down to your neck. The sensation of his soft lips trailing along your skin melted your thoughts away.

“Arthur…” you murmured, feeling your blood burning through your veins as he left little marks on your neck. “Can you at least take your clothes off?”

You meant it as a joke, trying to redirect his attention to something more practical, like getting into his pyjamas, but Arthur just chuckled against your skin, the vibration of his breath raising the hairs on your collarbone. “Oh, you are such a flirt,” he teased, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help but smile, even as he leaned in and kissed you again, more passionately this time, helping you out of your jacket. You tried to take control of the situation, urging him, “Arthur, seriously, get in your pyjamas first—”

But he didn’t listen. Instead, he kissed you on a particularly sensitive spot on your neck, and the reaction was immediate. You let out a soft whimper, not quite able to hide the effect it had on you.

“Sorry,” Arthur murmured, his voice low, the playful teasing from before replaced with a deeper, more intense tone. He didn’t sound sorry at all though.

You exhaled sharply, feeling incredibly turned on. “God, Arthur… please…” you whispered, trying to gather your thoughts but not wanting to pull away to finally get the change of clothes you’d both been talking about. But Arthur only held you closer, his lips hovering at your ear as he whispered, “Please what darling?”

It was impossible to argue with that. You couldn’t deny how much you enjoyed the closeness. The strong smell of his deodorant wearing away through the night and being replaced by the scent of Arthur’s desperation made your heart pound in your chest in ways you couldn’t explain.

Arthur’s lips were addictive as they moved from your neck to your jaw, his hands gently guiding you toward the bedroom. He kissed you deeply, one hand resting on your waist while the other cupped your face, as if trying to keep you close, not letting you get away.

You stumbled a little, distracted by the feeling of his lips trailing against yours, but he kept you steady, leading you forward with a powerful intensity in every touch. You didn’t say anything, but your heart was racing, each kiss leaving behind warm imprints of his love for you.

He kissed your lips again, and again, moving you gently backward, step by step, until your knees bumped into the edge of the bed. Arthur paused, looking down at you with that mischievous glint in his eyes, as if savouring every second.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked softly, his voice hushed, as if the moment was suddenly too real for both of you.

You nodded, too consumed by the intensity of the moment to form any more words. Without waiting for an answer, Arthur kissed you again, this time slower, deeper, and with an almost ungodly touch. His hands brushed over your skin, drawing you into him as he pressed you down onto the bed.

As his lips moved from yours to your neck again, his hands slowly started to explore, pulling your shirt off as his kisses followed the line of your collarbone. The room felt like it was spinning, your mind was consumed by Arthur, every touch, every kiss, every low moan. You tangled your fingers in his hair, feeling each lock pass through them with every kiss.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, “I want this,” he whispered, as if confirming it to himself as much as to you.

You simply smiled, tugging him back down toward you, letting his lips claim yours once more, unable to deny how much you wanted him too.

“You look absolutely stunning,” Arthur whispered, his voice like a confession meant only for you. His gaze fixated on your lips, slightly parted, your brows furrowing under the weight of his admiration. For a moment, he simply stared, as if committing every detail to memory, his breath falling from his lips in ragged, uneven pants. His eyes, a deep chocolate brown, glimmered with something so utterly consuming.

Arthur’s hands brushed over your skin with a heavenly tenderness. The contrast of his hot fingertips against the cold softness of your skin sent shivers dancing along your spine. Starting at your shoulders, his fingers pressed gently into your muscles, kneading away tension as though his sole purpose was to unravel you. A quiet sigh escaped your lips, and Arthur’s lips quirked into the faintest smile, as though your contentment was his greatest reward.

Each movement of his was deliberate and filled with adoration. His hands skimmed lower, following the curve of your arms and trailing back up to cradle the base of your neck.

“I’ve been thinking about this all day,” he murmured roughly. His breath was hot against the curve of your neck as he leaned closer, and the world seemed to fall away, leaving only him. “Wanting to feel your soft skin against mine, to lose myself in you.”

His lips grazed the shell of your ear leaving you breathless. Your back arched instinctively, your body answering his touch without thought, a silent invitation for him to go deeper, to explore further. His hands followed, tracing the curve of your back with a languid, unhurried intensity that left your heart pounding.

Arthur’s lips brushed against your jaw, a whisper of a kiss that lingered as though savoring the taste of you. “Every inch of you,” he murmured, his voice heavy with emotion, “I want to know it all. Every curve, every breath, every moment of you.”

His words wrapped around you like a spell, and his hands, now bolder, continued their journey down. He kissed his way down your neck, peppering soft kisses along your collarbone. His beard tickled your skin, a delightful sensation that made you giggle softly. Arthur's hands glided down your sides, his thumbs brushing the edges of your breasts, causing you to catch your breath. He took his time, savouring every moment, as if it were a delicious meal to be enjoyed slowly.

Arthur unhooked your bra, revealing your breasts to his hungry gaze. He admired them, his eyes darkening, the chocolate becoming lovingly bitter. "So beautiful," he whispered. He leaned down, his warm breath caressing your nipples, causing them to harden in anticipation.

His lips found one sensitive nipple, sucking gently. You moaned, grabbing fist fulls of his hair. Arthur's tongue was so slow and teasing, bestowing upon you a symphony of sensations. He lavished attention on one breast before moving to the other, ensuring that both received equal adoration.

As he worshipped your breasts, his hands roamed freely, exploring your curves. He traced the outline of your waist, the dip of your hips, and the softness of your thighs.

Arthur's fingers unbuttoned your jeans, his movements painfully unhurried. He slid them down your legs, his eyes never leaving your face, seeking your approval every step of the way. You nodded quickly, letting your mouth hang open as he kissed you.

He knelt before you, his eyes locked on yours, as he gently removed your underwear, exposing your pussy to his eager gaze. Arthur's breath sped up at the sight, his desire for you evident in the way his body trembled.

"You're so beautiful, so wet for me," he whispered. He leaned forward carefully. You shivered, your pleasure pulsating through your veins as he blew gently.

Arthur's tongue basically rolled out of his mouth, tasting you for the first time. He moaned, the vibrations reverberating through your body, as he savored you. His tongue moved in slow circles, exploring every inch of you, driving you insane.

You arched your back, pushing your hips forward, seeking more of his touch. Arthur obliged, his tongue delving deeper, finding that sweet spot that had you crying out in ecstasy. He suckled gently, his fingers finding your clit, teasing it with feather-light touches that had you trembling on the edge of release.

"Oh, Arthur," you gasped, your hands gripping the sheets as your orgasm built. "Don’t Stop. Fuck, please..."

He didn't. Arthur was almost drunk of your pleasure, your moans making his pace get faster until it was too much to control.

Your climax hit you like a wave, crashing over you and sweeping you away. You cried out, your body trembling. Arthur continued his devouring, riding the storm with you, ensuring your orgasm was as intense and satisfying as it could be.

As your tremors subsided, Arthur slowly made his way up your body, his lips seeking yours. He kissed you roughly and passionately, sharing the taste of your climax. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him close.

"You’re so gorgeous," he whispered against your lips, his voice filled with awe.

With that, Arthur positioned himself between your legs, his hard length pressing against your entrance. He looked into your eyes, seeking your consent, and you nodded, eager for more.

He entered you slowly, inch by inch, his eyes never leaving yours. The sensation of being filled by him was exquisite, and you both groaned in unison as he seated himself fully within you.

Arthur began to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate. He set a gentle rhythm, taking his time to ensure your pleasure. He was mindful of your every reaction, adjusting his pace and angle until he hear you cry out his name.

"You feel so good," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear.

You moaned in response, your nails digging into his back, leaving deep red lines. Arthur's hips moved in a steady rhythm, his beard brushing against your neck. He kissed and bite at your sensitive skin, his touch a perfect contrast to the deep, almost euphoric pleasure of his thrusts.

He whispered words of adoration, praising your beauty and your responsiveness. His words were like fuel to the fire, igniting your desire and making you crave him even more.

As he continued to move within you, Arthur's pace gradually increased, his thrusts becoming more messy. He was losing himself in the sensations, in the feel of your body wrapped around his. You matched his rhythm, your bodies moving as one, a perfect duet of pleasure.

Your hands roamed over his back, feeling the movement of muscles beneath his skin, as he pushed deeper into you. You could feel your orgasm building again, a familiar tension coiling within you, and you knew Arthur was close as well.

"I'm so close," you whispered, your breath coming in short gasps.

"Me too," he grunted, his voice strained with the effort of holding back.

With a final, powerful thrust, Arthur sent you spiraling into another mind-shattering climax. Your bodies trembled in unison, caught in the throes of ecstasy. He filled you completely, his release hot and intense, as he called out your name.

As your hearts raced and your breathing slowly returned to normal, Arthur collapsed onto the bed beside you, pulling you close.

The bed’s residual warmth lingered as you both lay entwined, the sheets a tangle from you and Arthur. His head was nestled against your chest, his breath soft and subtle against your skin. His hand rested gently on your side, while your fingers absentmindedly traced circles on his back.

He nuzzled into you, his voice a soft murmur. “My love?”

You looked down at him. “Yeah? What’s up?”

He shifted slightly, his eyes still closed. “I love you.”

Your breath stuttered for a second, surprised by the words. You hadn’t expected him to say it so openly, so freely. It felt like something monumental that you couldn’t quite put into words. You swallowed your nerves and smiled softly, holding him closer. “I love you too.”

He hummed contently against you, his voice soft and sleepy. “Mhm, yeah…” He snuggled in a little more, his body still, his breath slow.

A sudden thought made you pull back slightly to look at him, your fingers tracing through his hair. “When did you realise?” you asked, your voice hushed.

Arthur paused for a moment, his eyes still heavy with sleep, but something else in his eyes, his eyebrows were furrowed and his face was relaxed and gentle. He let out a light sigh before speaking.

“I don’t know exactly,” he began, his voice soft but steady. “Maybe it started when we went out for that coffee date… I remember thinking that I could talk to you about anything, and that was something new for me. But then, every time we hung out, it felt like… like it wasn’t just about having fun or passing the time. It felt real, you know? The way we could just be with each other, like I didn’t have to try to be anything I wasn’t.”

You smiled, running your thumb over his cheek.

“And then there were all those moments when we just laughed, when we didn’t even have to say much. Just being around you felt right. It’s like, I didn’t realise it then, but looking back, it was always there, in every little thing we did.”

Arthur’s eyes fluttered closed again, and he adjusted his arm around you. “I just—I don’t know. I guess I just love you. I’ve always loved you.”

You held him tighter, feeling the soft beat of his heart against your chest. Your own heart was full, a gentle smile tugging at your lips as you kissed his forehead lightly. “I’m glad you realised,” you whispered.

Arthur smiled into your chest, his breathing slowing even more as sleep began to overtake him. “Me too,” he mumbled, barely audible.

“When did you fall in love with me?”

As you laid there, the warmth of Arthur’s body pressed against you and the soft rhythm of his breath filling the silence, his question echoed in your mind. His eyes were closed now, his face peaceful as he began to drift off, but there was something in his question that made your heart feel heavier, yet lighter at the same time.

You hesitated for a moment, thinking back to all the little moments that had slowly built up to this. It wasn’t a single moment, a defining moment. No, it was everything. You smiled softly as your fingers traced idle circles on his back.

You opened your mouth, ready to speak, but you realised you had to think about it, really think about how long you’d known. You thought about the first time you really got to know him, how his jokes, his passion, his beautiful smile had drawn you in. It wasn’t supposed to be anything more than just work, just the podcast, just two people who would share the same space for a while, but somewhere in the middle of it all, you fell in love.

“I don’t know, Arthur,” you said quietly, your voice blending softly with the white noise around you both, as if finally speaking the truth out loud made it feel like everything had clicked into place. You could feel Arthur’s body soften against you, but you knew he wasn’t fully awake. So, you continued, knowing he would hear it anyway, even in his sleep.

“From the moment we started hanging out, I didn’t realise it, but there was something about you. At first, I thought it was just… you know, you being you. But then we’d talk and talk and I’d catch myself looking forward to hearing your voice, even when we were just texting about random things, like what movie we should watch for the podcast, or whatever weird topic you were passionate about that week. I remember you’d say these little things that would make me laugh, like the time you got so passionate about some movie I hadn’t even seen, but you were so excited to share it with me anyway. You didn’t even know you were doing it, but you were always so considerate, so you. That’s when I started to realise how much I was drawn to you, more than just your beautiful face.”

You let out a quiet sigh, remembering how desperate you were for him to see you, to notice you, to just be friends with you. It was strange to think back to the first time you found yourself standing by your window, waiting for Arthur to show up at midnight, the cold winter air biting at your skin as you told yourself, It’s fine, it’s just Arthur, but in the pit of your stomach, it felt like something else. The thought of him walking in, his scarf wrapped around his neck, his eyes focused on you, like he was waiting for something, too.

“Then there was that night,” you said, a smile forming on your lips as the memory surfaced. “When you came over in the middle of the night, just to hang out, and I realised you’d traveled all that way just to see me. And I remember thinking, This is it. That night, it wasn’t just about the movie, or the podcast, or even the fact that you wanted to spend time with me. It was the way you looked at me, the way you listened to me, like I was the only person who mattered. That’s when I realised I cared about you so much more than I ever thought possible.”

You could feel Arthur’s soft breaths, his chest rising and falling steadily, and it made you smile even more as you continued.

“You know, I thought I’d just be friends with you. Honestly, after that first awkward moment when when we went out to that market and all I could think about was how much i loved just being with you, no one else, I figured, This is just going to be a weird little friendship. But then… something kept happening. Every time you came to see me, even if it was just for work, I’d start feeling like maybe it was something more. Like when you showed up at my flat, and you were nervous and cute, and we just fell into the rhythm of being together. And when you kissed me that night, I don’t think I’d ever felt more special in that moment.”

You laughed to yourself, remembering how embarrassed you both had been afterward, and how awkward it felt, yet perfect at the same time.

“And then the way you’d show up to work with that stupid smile on your face, making my heart skip a beat every time I saw you. Even the teasing from Isaac about you liking me, all of that, it was building something bigger than I realised. I guess it was all those little moments with you, when you took care of me when I needed it, when we shared those late-night talks after everyone else had gone home. And then, when we started saying things to each other that weren’t just ‘I like hanging out with you,’ but ‘I like you’, really like you. That was when I knew.”

You hesitated, your gaze softening as it settled on Arthur’s peaceful face, his breath fanning over your chest. His expression was so vulnerable and truly peaceful, it forced a truth you’d been circling for longer than you cared to admit, out of you. “I think I’ve always loved you,” you began, your voice trembling. The words felt new and yet familiar, like they’d always been waiting for you to uncover them. “Maybe not all at once, but in pieces… little by little, over the months. And I didn’t even see it for what it was. Not until now.”

Your fingers brushed lightly through his hair, the soft strands slipping between them as you paused, searching for the right words. “I didn’t realise it when you made me laugh on the worst days or when you stayed, even when I gave you every reason to leave. I didn’t see it when you looked at me with those lovely brown eyes. But it was always there, wasn’t it? This… love. Quiet, patient, waiting for me to understand.”

Arthur stirred faintly in his sleep, shifting closer, his arms tightening around you as if he could sense the depth of your thoughts even now. His lips curled into the faintest smile, and the feeling made your chest ache. You pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, lingering there as the truth settled fully into your heart.

“And now I know,” you whispered, your words meant only for the walls of the room and the man in your arms. “I’ve loved you for longer than I can even remember. Longer than I knew. And somehow… you waited for me to catch up.”

Arthur’s warmth seeped into you, like his soul was combining with yours through your flesh. For the first time in what felt like forever, there was no urgency, no need to run from your thoughts or drown them out. You just let yourself feel.

You opened your eyes, staring at the ceiling for a long moment before letting your gaze drift back to him. Even in sleep, Arthur had this way of pulling at your heart, of making you feel like you belonged in a way you hadn’t before. A soft smile tugged at your lips as you traced your fingertips lightly along the curve of his shoulder, marveling at how gentle and soft his skin was, almost as if it had been kissed by angels. You knew Arthur would give you an explanation for why this was not the power of god, but you knew that there was no scientific reasoning for how his skin glowed under the beams of lights so perfectly, you could thank every heavenly being you’d lay your eyes on.

“You know,” you murmured quietly, more to yourself than to him, “I used to think love had to be this grand, all-consuming thing. Something that swept you off your feet the moment you felt it. But this… this is different.” Your voice hesitated, but you pressed on, needing to say it out loud, even if he couldn’t hear you yet. “It’s softer. It’s in all the little things, like the way you smile when you’re teasing me, or how you’re always there when I need you, even when I don’t realise it. It’s been there all along, hasn’t it? I was just too scared to see it.”

Arthur shifted slightly, his face pressing against your chest, and you felt your heart swell again, almost painfully so. A shaky breath escaped you as your hand came to rest against his back, pulling him even closer. You wanted to freeze this moment, to hold onto it forever, because for the first time, you weren’t running from how you felt.

“Arthur,” you whispered, your voice breaking just slightly. “I don’t think I could ever stop loving you. Even if I tried. Even if I wanted to.”

You closed your eyes again, resting your cheek against the top of his head, letting his presence fill every empty space in you. The future still felt uncertain, and part of you knew there would be challenges ahead, but for now, none of that mattered. All that mattered was the way he fit against you, as if he’d always belonged there.

And maybe, you thought as sleep began to claim you, he always had.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁౨ৎ. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

The End.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁౨ৎ. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

author note: THANK YOU SO SO SO SO MUCH FOR READING MY FIC !! i love you all so so so so much and as a thank you i will be posting many christmas themed fics soon !! if you have any requests that i have not answered that you want posting id love to write them now i have finished this. THANK YOU FOR READING !! let me know if you liked it <333

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@rubyskies @rkaya @pookietv @rougetv @arthurhillmastermind @fatneek444 @pretendyoucantseeme @neivivenaj @mmilllll @asmoothoperator

[starkwlkr]

miss honey | sebastian vettel

dad!sebastian x female reader

no part 2

“Papa! I have a new teacher!”

The school had already sent out an email letting parents know that the students were being thought by a new teacher. Ever since his daughter knew of the teacher, she had been counting down the days until she could meet her and finally today was the day.

“Remember, we have to be kind to her and all the other kids, okay?” Sebastian reminded her as they walked hand in hand to her classroom. The little girl nodded with a smile on her face.

They finally made it to her classroom and saw several parents with their kids already inside. The Vettel girl let go of her father’s hand and excitedly ran to the table where her friends were. Sebastian wasn’t sure what the new teacher looked like so he just stood to the side admiring the artwork of the kids that was stapled to the cork boards.

“It was very nice to meet you, Mr. Cooper.” A sweet voice caught Sebastian’s attention. It was coming from outside of the classroom so he poked his head out to see what was going on. At the same time, you had entered the classroom causing you to bump into each other. “Oh! I’m so sorry!”

“No, it’s my fault. That’s what I get for being nosey. I’m sorry.” Sebastian apologized. “Do you know who the new teacher is? My daughter is excited to meet her.”

You smiled. “Well I’m more excited to meet her. Where is she?”

“You’re the new teacher?”

“Is that surprising?”

Sebastian nervously chuckled. “No, not at all. I was just . . . Schatz! Come meet your new teacher.” The little girl came running to her father.

“Hello, my father told me you’re excited to meet me.” You bent down to her height. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

“Emma.” The girl replied shyly.

“Emma, you have a very lovely name. I have a feeling we’re going to be great friends.”

Sebastian couldn’t help but smile at the interaction. He already took a liking to you. He stayed with Emma for a bit while you greeted other parents and their kids. While Emma colored in her journal, a dad of Emma’s friend had gotten Sebastian’s attention.

“New teacher is hot, right? I’ll have to drop off my kid more often now.” He said, keeping his eyes on your body. “God, she knows what she’s doing. Look at that ass—”

“We’re in a classroom, there’s kids around us. It’s inappropriate, especially when she’s the one teaching our kids.” Sebastian interrupted.

“What? You’re acting as if you wouldn’t sleep with her. Whatever, she’ll definitely put out for me.” He then walked towards you as you finished another conversation with a mom. Sebastian watched as he tried to talk his way into getting your number.

The German could see the discomfort in your face so he quickly made his way towards you. “It’s getting late, shouldn’t you be going to your office?” Sebastian told the rude man.

“I’m the boss, Vettel, I can go in whenever I want.” He replied.

“Last I heard, your boss was thinking of firing you because you got drunk and ran over a road sign and you called him in the middle of a meeting so he could bail you out.”

You could feel the tension between the men. All you wanted to do was start your first day.

“You’re really not that funny.” He said as he left the classroom.

“Wasn’t trying to be.” Sebastian mumbled. “Sorry about him, he’s an idiot.”

“I could tell. .” You gasped when you realized what you just said. “Oh god, please don’t tell anyone I said that.”

“Your secret is safe with me.”

Ever since your first interaction with Sebastian, you couldn’t help but think about him often. You knew it was wrong, but he was just so charming. It was one sided at all. Emma would sometimes bring you a little gift with a note attached in Sebastian’s handwriting. You didn’t know what exactly he did for work, you assumed it was a job that required him to travel a lot since Emma would bring different souvenirs from different countries. His notes were always short and sweet, it made you melt inside.

It was a chilly day and you were almost done with class. The kids were packing their backpacks and cleaning up their areas while you helped some students.

“Does anyone have questions about their homework?” You asked your class.

“No, miss l/n!” They replied.

“Miss l/n? I have a question, but it’s not about the homework . . .” Emma raised her hand from her seat.

You nodded and walked over to her table. “What’s your question, Emma?”

“Well . . My papa is retiring and i was wondering if you want to come with us to his last race?” Emma asked.

“Race? Your papa races?” You were confused, but then it all made sense. The gift from different countries, why Emma’s grandparents were the ones the drop her or pick her up off most of the time.

“Yeah, but he’s retiring. He has four world championships!” Emma put up four fingers. “Can you come with us? Please!”

“Emma, I’m not sure. What if your papa doesn’t want me there? We can talk about this another day.” You tried to dismiss the topic, but the little girl wasn’t giving up.

“That’s not true because my papa always talks about you to his teammate and his friends and everyone who works with him and I heard him say he wants to invite you to the race. One time he called you Miss Honey.” Emma said.

You were sure you were blushing at the thought of Sebastian calling you Miss Honey. It wasn’t the first time you were called that, but knowing Sebastian did made you smile.

“Well I’ll have to talk to your papa when he comes to pick you up.” You said. The Vettel girl nodded.

You took the kids to the entrance of the school where all the parents picked them up from and noticed Sebastian immediately. He waved at you instantly. You waved back, already feeling butterflies in your stomach from that tiny interaction. You then helped the kids find their parents and kept other kids company since they were waiting for their parents to show up.

“Miss l/n! My papa wants to ask you something!” Emma came up running to you, dragging Sebastian by his hand. “Ask her papa!”

The older man just laughed. “I will, just be patient. Um . . So I was wondering if you would like to attend my last race as a Formula 1 driver.”

“Emma did mention you raced.” You said. “She also mentioned you talk about me to your colleagues and call me Miss Honey.”

“Did she?” Sebastian looked down at his daughter, who innocently smiled. “I apologize if that made you uncomfortable—”

“It’s cute. Not the first time I’ve been called that actually.”

Emma couldn’t wait any longer for your answer. “So you’ll go see my papa race?!”

“Emma, be patient.” Sebastian told her.

You looked at her with a smile. “I think it would be lovely to see your papa race.”

Thank god for Emma Vettel and her impatience.

The last race of the Formula 1 season was here. It was a very emotional weekend for many since they would be saying goodbye to the great Sebastian Vettel. He had been receiving lots of kind messages and gifts from fans and supporters from all over the world.

It was the morning of Abu Dhabi Grand Prix and you were feeling a lot of emotions. On the way to the track, Emma had given you her version of how a race worked. You listened to her all the way to the track with Sebastian sometime reminding her of a few things she missed. Finally, you made it to the paddock entrance where photographers were waiting for the arrival of Sebastian.

“Papa, there’s a lot.” Emma said once she noticed the amount of photographers waiting.

“You’ll be okay, sweetheart. You can hold my hand until we get inside, okay?” You assured Emma. Sebastian saw how Emma felt safe with you. You truly were a real life Miss Honey.

Eventually, the three of you had to make your way to the entrance so you held onto Emma’s hand and stayed close to Sebastian. While Sebastian got caught up with taking photos and singing autographs for fans, Emma showed you around. She pointed at several buildings and told you that those were the team motorhomes.

“Sorry about that, come on let’s continue.” Sebastian caught up with you and Emma.

“It’s alright, Emma is a very good guide. She’s very smart.” You reply.

You all made your way to the Aston Martin garage where Sebastian insisted on showing you around. Even though Emma had already been to multiple races over the years, she always acted surprised when she saw her father’s car. You couldn’t help but take a photo of Emma being put inside Sebastian’s car for the final time.

“This is amazing. I can’t believe you never told me this was your job.” You said to Sebastian as you both watched Emma joke around with Sebastian’s race engineer.

“You never asked.” He joked. “It means a lot to Emma that you’re here . . and to me. Thank you.”

“I’m happy to be here.”

Soon came the race. You and Emma watched from the Aston Martin garage. You weren’t sure what was happening, but you were happy to be there to support Sebastian. When the checkered flag came out, Emma explained to you that her father had finished in the points. You, Emma and the Aston Martin team cheered.

It felt like forever trying to reunite with Sebastian, but you kept Emma entertained by playing I spy.

“I spy with my little eye something . . . Red!” You said.

Emma looked around then spotted Charles walking with Max. “It’s Charles!”

“You got it!”

Now it was Emma’s turn. “I spy with my little eye . . Papa!” She yelled, the game of i spy already forgotten since Sebastian was back in the garage. Emma ran to her father and gave him a big hug.

“Did you have fun?” Sebastian questioned.

“Yeah, miss l/n and I were playing I spy and I won.” Emma replied. “Can we go home?”

Sebastian looked at you. “Let’s go home.” He nodded, content with his new life.

After your return home, you saw Sebastian more often. He even volunteered for bake sales, school fundraisers and career day. The kids loved seeing his helmet and racing suit, you were pretty sure it made all the other parents jealous.

It was a nice sunny day when Sebastian had asked you to dinner. It took some convincing, but you accepted. He took you to a restaurant that had a beautiful view and a lot of pretty colorful flowers. As you were talking about a bookstore you wanted to visit, a bee that joined you. While most people were afraid of bees and tried to run away from them, you adored them.

“Five eyes, six legs.” You admired the insect.

“Emma thinks I’m crazy for talking to bees. I tell her that bees are important.” Sebastian said.

“Yeah, I do remember her telling me that you talk to the bees. I thought she was joking.” You chuckled. “I had the kids to a project about bees and Emma said you were planning to make insect hotels?” Soon all you and Sebastian could talk about what his upcoming new project.

After your date, Sebastian drove you home. You honestly didn’t want the date to end, but you had homework that needed grading. What a way to spend a Friday night, but you enjoyed it. You found grading papers very therapeutic.

“I’ll see you at school?” Sebastian wondered.

“Sure.” You laughed. “Before I forget.” You leaned forward and pressed your lip’s against his. It was sweet like honey. After you pulled away, Sebastian couldn’t wipe off the smile from his face.

“Goodnight, miss honey.”

“Goodnight, bee man.”

—

2023

Time skip brought to you by all my seb pictures from pinterest

PRIVATE ACCOUNT

liked by sebastianvettel, mickschumacher and 276 others

missl/n_ bee man in his natural habitat 🐝 thanks for bringing me along 🖤

mickschumacher come back soon!!

missl/n_ i’ll try! my kids need their teacher 😉

sebastianvettel the bees thank you, miss honey 🍯

missl/n_ i love you, bee man 🐝

[fkinavocado]

a very indulgent exploration of what could've, should've been...

Don't Worry Darling (SPIN-OFF) - Masterlist, Author’s Notes & Warnings / alternatively, read on wattpad

Part One (word count: 6.2k)

“... Jack? Excuse me, Jack? Is that really you?”

The man reluctantly stopped in his tracks and turned around, recognizing the woman but having forgotten her name. “Oh… hi there, uhm…?”

“Emma. It’s Emma. You remember me, right?”

“Yeah, you’re, uhm… you used to work at the hospital…”

Emma approached him, noting he wasn’t keen on breaching the gap himself. Poor fellow, she thought. He looked a mess. She was surprised she’d even recognized him. “Oh, I’m still at the hospital! How are you, Jack? You know, we’re all worried about you. Why didn’t you take us up on our offer, hm? We’d have loved to help you any way we could… It can’t have been easy. Gloria told us she came over once with a home cooked casserole but no one answered the door. She assumed you’d moved. Which is good, we thought. But we couldn’t get a hold of you, you must’ve also changed your number…”

Jack wasn’t really making eye contact. His gaze downcast, a hoodie atop of a beanie on his head and an oversized, worn out puffer jacket that almost swallowed him up. He looked very poorly even hidden behind all that. His facial hair unkempt, as was his hair tucked underneath his beanie, seemingly longer strands of it all messy and straw-like peeking out. His glasses loose at his temples. His face was hollow cheeked and she really feared he wasn’t looking after himself properly at all. But what really stood out to her was the bouquet of flowers he was carrying.

“Yeah… I moved out of there. Too many memories.”

“Those were her favourite… pink roses,” she mused. “You miss her so, don’t you, Jack? You can’t even bear talking to me about her, you poor man, even after all this time… What must you be going through… do you– agh. This is so insensible of me to even ask. Forgive me. But if it’s any consolation, us at the hospital haven’t given up hope. We still think she’s out there, somewhere, our Alice…”

Jack cleared his throat and took a step back. “I should get going…”

“Of course. Do take care of yourself, Jack. And if you ever want to reach out, you know where to find us. Take all the time you need.”

“Thank you,...” he stammered a bit, not knowing what else to say. He walked for a while in the wrong direction, just in case the nosy woman decided to follow him. 

He hadn’t moved. That would’ve been near impossible, and since he managed to dodge the bullet while the police were sniffing around for the longest time, he figured there wasn’t any reason to do so anymore. But he couldn’t have her know that, which is why he never answered the door to the other woman with the casserole either. 

After making sure she wasn’t following him, he resumed his walk home. He wished he could find some type of work from home. He’d be saving so much time and money on the commute, plus he’d always be there, which was quite imperative, all things considered.

What if there was a power outage? The one time that’d happened, there’d been dire consequences. Consequences he hadn’t had to endure. And he simply couldn’t allow that to happen again.

There were so many things that could go wrong while he wasn’t home.

Plus, if he worked remote he could take on a full shift. As it was, he had to work part-time, which wasn’t nearly enough to make ends meet. But the commute and all the prep he had to do were taking up too much time, time he didn’t want to waste here.

Finally arriving home, he made sure to secure the front door- the lock and all 3 of the bolts. 

Checking the computer screen, he only had 40 minutes left. The woman had made him late, what with all the detours he had to make to be sure she wasn’t following him.

Canned tuna it was, then. Again. No time for cooking. Not that he had much in the fridge anyway. 

He always felt antsy between the time he got back home and logging in. He wanted to get everything done and out of the way as soon as possible- cooking, laundry, cleaning (more like tidying up, the apartment was far from clean even by his standards), everything on autopilot, peeking at the computer screen every now and then to make sure he didn’t miss his log-in window.

With 20 minutes to spare, that was his que. 

“Oh!” He rushed back to the kitchen to retrieve the flowers, then using the keys that he wore on a chain around his neck for safekeeping, he unbolted yet another set of locks on the bedroom door. 

There she was. 

His heart always swelled in his chest seeing her there, safe and sound. Everyday day, without fail, a sigh of relief escaped his lips once he entered the bedroom. He’d probably never stop worrying while he was away for work.

“Darling, I… miss you all the time…” he hummed the lyrics to a song he used to sing to her often, placing the flowers in a vase by the bed. “Got you flowers, your favourite! Even that pesky Emma from the hospital remembers they’re your favourite. You’re so loved, hm? My precious girl.” He sat on the edge of the bed and reached to caress her supple cheek. “But I love you the most.”

Jack knew he did. Who else would do all this for her? Nobody! He tended after her, emptied out her waste bags as well as checked the respective connecting catheters were secure in place, cleaned her up, all without so much as wrinkling his nose. He replaced the IV, taking note that there was some bruising on that arm so he made sure to switch, he removed her compressive socks and massaged her limbs thoroughly before putting them back on, even made sure to hydrate her lips though she was getting all her nutrients through her IV, hell- he thought of everything. He did it all for her happily, and would do much more if needed. 

She’d done so much for them, too. 

She still did!

But long gone were the days where he’d see her come home from back to back shifts at the hospital, with barely any time to get some sleep in before she had to head back, all because she had to support the both of them all while paying off her student loans. 

Medschool was so expensive. Had he met her before he’d have talked her out of that career path. He’d have talked her out of any career! No. That was his job. He was the caretaker. He was the breadwinner. It’d been like that since the beginning of time. It was only natural for the man to provide. The fact that she’d had to for all that time had been killing him, every day that he had to sit at home and wait for her to get back from the hospital only to see her defeated, exhausted, drained beyond belief. 

Resident doctors were paid shit but strung out to the max. Especially surgeons. 

Meanwhile, Jack had struggled to find a job for the longest time. Unlike her, he hadn’t gone to college, let alone university. His parents couldn’t afford it at the time and he knew better than to tie himself up in student loans. He’d had odd jobs but nothing really ever stuck. He had no real skills, and every entry job demanded some form of higher education nowadays.

Plus, someone had to do house chores, cook and clean. And they couldn’t afford help. 

It’d been eating him up inside. It was all backwards! 

All up until he’d met someone online and got to talking over a game of World of Warcraft. This guy swore up and down about this dark web programme he’d found, but it was all very hush-hush, and Jack had to put in some serious gameplay time until he managed to extricate the info out of him.

The guy was very paranoid about telling him and even used a code system for what to look up. Jack took the lead and before long, he fell down the rabbit hole of what he now knew to be the Victory Project.

He got so immersed trying to digest all this new info being thrown his way all of a sudden that he nearly got caught listening to one of the podcasts when she’d gotten home from the hospital one day. He’d even forgotten to call the plumber. Boy- had that pissed her off.

She was already on edge all the time. Never had any time for him anyway- but if she got upset over silly little things she shut him out completely. 

He felt emasculated. Rejected. Reduced to a housewife.

Jack smirked to himself, as he tended to her whilst pondering all that. Securing the straps back around her wrists he mused at how things had changed. “I fixed it for us, I told you I would. Now you’re the one who’s waiting for me just as we speak. And I don’t even come home to you in scrubs, do I? No, I come home to you all handsome, suit and tie and ready to get my fill of you. Never too tired for you, am I darling? You’re such a great cook, god knows my mouth waters just thinking of all you’ve slaved over for us to feast on, but all I wanna do is feast on you instead. Aren’t you lucky?”

Jack watched her expressionless eyes for a moment as if waiting for her to answer him back, and promptly remembered to apply her eye drops, noticing they looked extra blood-shot than normal. He then finally got comfy in bed next to her. He couldn’t wait a moment longer. He was hard already just in anticipation of the way she’d excitedly open the door for him. The door to their lavish home, and their extravagant life together that he’d earned for the two of them. Him. 

He fixed the device around his own eyes and turned it on, taking her hand in his. 

“Welcome to the Victory Project. There are currently 72 active users.”

Nothing beat this. The pleasant, warm afternoon air sweeping through his perfectly coiffed hair as he rushed to get home to her from the Victory Headquarters. Here, the weather was always perfect… whereas, in the apartment, he had to keep the heating on a lower setting, the bill was ridiculous during the colder months. He always had to wear layers and layers, but not in the bedroom- no, he kept a radiator in there. All for her. He had to switch it off for safety reasons while he was away at work but it wasn’t like she was aware of her surroundings anyway! All the more reasons why he had to find something remote so he could work from home and clear up all these little things that bugged him about the whole arrangement. 

But he didn’t want to think about all that, not while he was here. No, here, those problems didn’t exist. This was his preferred reality, this was what he chose to believe was real. All the rest was just a means to an end.

He could feel all his exhaustment leave his body the closer he got to the house. He seldom wondered why she couldn’t have done the same for him coming back from the hospital. Why she couldn’t just leave all that baggage at the door and be glad to be home, back to him, where he waited for her like a lovesick puppy with separation anxiety.

He knew the answer to that now, of course, and that was all Frank’s merit- the brain behind this whole thing. He’d listened to his podcasts for a long while before he enrolled into the program. There was no way she could ever respect him within their given dynamic at the time. The roles were reversed and she couldn’t allow herself to be a woman to her man.

He’d fixed it, though, and boy, had Frank been right.

Every day, without fail, he knocked on the door coming home from work and there she was- all smiles and carefree and so eager to please him, in any way he saw fit. All because she respected him now. He was the man of the house, he was the breadwinner, he put a roof over her head, he got her all her little heart desired and kept her satisfied and happy. 

Which is why when nobody answered the door he was a bit taken aback.

Using his key that he’d rarely ever had to use himself to unlock the door, he let himself in and carefully inspected the silent house.

He knew, realistically, that there was no way something could’ve gone wrong- there was no crime in Victory. No one had broken into their home. But still, he searched the house tentatively. “Alice?”

Everything was spotless, and most striking of all, he couldn’t smell a trace of the homecooked meal he’d so been looking forward to. That tuna was enough to sustain his physical body, but not his large appetite.

Reaching the bedroom, he furrowed his brows with worry upon finding her… sleeping. Passed out on the bed, clad in her street clothes. She’d seemingly come back home from town exhausted and must’ve stretched her bones a bit by the looks of it. 

He contemplated waking her up. Maybe crawling between her thighs and having her gasp awake at the feel of him lapping languidly at her folds. He loved waking her up like that, and she did too. She loved being loved on, and Jack absolutely loved pleasuring her. She was so much more responsive, so much more sensitive to his touch, he could pleasure her over and over for hours on end. Probably ‘cause of all the practice he was having on a regular basis. And maybe he adjusted some settings regarding his stamina while creating his profile too, but at the end of the day, why not? He did it for her. All of this was for her!

Jack grunted to himself before closing the door to the bedroom so he wouldn’t perturb her sleep, deciding last minute to forgo his initial plans. Funny he’d been reminiscing about how things used to be just in time for this to happen all of a sudden.

It must’ve been a glitch in the system or something. This wasn’t in line with what he’d designed for themselves. Here, they were never tired, ill or imperfect in any way. Jack made a mental note to look into this after he logged out.

In the meanwhile- he’d never tried his hand at cooking here, where presumably he’d be a lot better at it than he was in reality. 

Just like with everything else.

*

Alice blinked her eyes awake. She took in her surroundings and hesitantly stood up on the bed in the dark room, letting her sight adjust. 

How did she get back here? Not here, here. She had an inkling of how she’d managed that- but back to the house, from the Headquarters. She couldn’t remember making the trek back.

Maybe she didn’t have to.

Maybe this was the default setting she woke up to everytime after entering… the simulation. Because, what else was this if not that?!

How long was she out of it? Judging by the darkness surrounding her, a good few hours. Perking her ears up, she could hear music- so Jack was home too.

She cradled her knees to her chest, trying to let it all sink in. She hadn’t had time to properly digest what had happened, in her unconscious state.

Hell, she was surprised she could even remember.

But this explained it… explained all the fuzzy deja vu-like flashbacks she kept having. Explained her brain fog and all the things she just couldn’t follow through in her train of thought. Explained why she sometimes couldn’t account for most of her day until Jack came home from work, almost as if she’d been on auto-pilot. 

Explained all the vivid “dreams”. 

They weren’t fanciful dreams, idealistic wishes of a progressive feminist world for which she’d gotten shock therapy at the Victory’s doctor’s orders.

They were her memories.

Waking up tied down to that bed… her own bed, from another life, had been traumatic, but she clearly was still in shock to be so calm about it. 

She hadn’t been calm initially of course- not when she couldn’t move her arms or blink her eyes shut. 

She’d managed to slip out of the confines, her wrists weak and frail and barely recognizable, yanking her IV out of her vein by accident- she hadn’t even known it was there!, all in an effort to get those things that forced her eyes open off of her face.

She’d been hysteric. Tried to muffle her own screams, because she didn’t know who was around to hear them. Tried to calm herself down, but the more she noticed, the more she hyperventilated. Like the fact that had both urinary and rectal catheters sticking out of her. Then she noticed how emaciated she looked, almost like she couldn’t even recognize her own body. She couldn’t feel her limbs, she felt numb and achy all over, bruises all across her skin from sitting still for so long. Her throat was hoarse, she couldn’t really scream that loud even if she wanted to.

She’d fumbled out of bed and immediately collapsed to the floor. She was too weak to stand, and she prayed she hadn’t broken any bones in her fall. She sat there crying in a fetal position for god knows how long, thinking of all the fractures she’d fixed in the OR, and all her knowledge that had gone to waste. 

All her life that had gone to waste!

This room, this bedroom- her old life came back to her in a flash, flooding all her senses. It felt like everything was finally clicking into place, and despite how miserable and utterly devastated she felt, it was a relief to finally figure it out. 

With the way nobody came rushing into the bedroom, she knew she was alone. Unless Jack was at this computer, headphones on– oh god. She felt her mind split into two trying to reconcile the fact that these two very different men were one and the same!

She was alone strapped to the bed- which could only mean one thing. He wasn’t constrained like she was. He hadn’t been forced into this. Unless they were being kept separate… both victims of this sick mindfuck. 

Because… surely– surely Jack couldn’t be behind this.

… Could he?

Scrambling for the door, determined to get some answers, she reached for the doorknob.

When she couldn’t get it to open, she mustered up all her strength to stand up- but still- it was no use. It was locked. And with the way it felt it looked like the door had been tampered with, bolted shut from the outside, not just locked. 

She was trapped. A prisoner in her own home. She eyed the windows next and even if by some miracle they weren’t bolted shut too- she knew she was too weak to try and use the fire escape. She’d surely succumb to her death trying to evade. She needed a plan- a better plan.

Her brain was scurrying to come up with something-anything, all the while dry heaving at the sight of her waste bags still attached to her by those catheters and the overall stale smell of the room, but she knew that with how dehydrated she was, vomiting would take her out completely at that point. She head to keep it together, had to–

She’d heard what she recognized to be the front door. Her blood froze in her veins. She didn’t know who it was, she had no idea who was behind all this. She had no clue where Jack was, if he even was part of this– her heart told her no, he couldn’t have, but at this point she had no way of knowing what was real or not, let alone what this all meant.

She couldn’t risk being found conscious. She was clearly being kept in a comatose state, treated as one such patient at least, and the fact that she’d woken up from that induced state was definitely not intended to happen.

She remembered what had happened before she woke up like this- she’d reached the infamous, off limits Victory Headquarters. Because a plane had crashed in that direction, and the trolley driver didn’t believe her nor wanted to take her there!

She’d made the trek all the way there… it’d taken her ages, in the scorching sun- and finally, finally, she’d reached the imposing building, in hopes of finding some help or at least some answers at that point!

Next thing she knew, she’d woken up strapped to this bed. Her bed, in her old bedroom, from her old life that had been stolen away from her!

She needed to gather as much information as possible, and the only way she could do that was to get back into that bed and pretend she never came to.

There was no other way.

She hurried as best she could, barely making it back to the bed, made sure she was laid out in the same outstretched position. By some miracle, the catheters were still in place, their respective bags on the floor by the foot of the bed. The hardest part was fixing whatever that contraption was over her face and around her eyes. It dug deep into her flesh and she remembered to wipe any traces of tears from her face when new ones began rolling down her face. She was surprised her body could even produce them with how parched she felt. She then inserted the needle back into her bruised vein– which was sure to get infected at this rate, whoever was doing this to her was amateur at best, or they didn’t much care to keep her alive. She didn’t know which prospect was worse. She slipped her wrists back through the strap loops, hoping it wouldn’t be obvious she’d gotten them a bit loose when she struggled her way out of them. 

And then she’d waited. And waited. And waited. All the while a bright red light scanned her eyeballs systematically, no doubt whatever was used to induce her into that trance or whatever it was that created the optimal parameters for the alternate reality to take place. She couldn’t even wrap her mind around it. She couldn’t even begin to understand how it worked- all she knew was that it was all too real to be just a dream. No. That was a controlled environment. The world simulation came to her again.

Her whole body froze as she’d heard the lock, then what she counted to be 3 other bolts on the bedroom door. She could only see directly above her, and that barely- but she could hear him when he came in. 

Smell him, even. 

And it wasn’t the smell of expensive cologne she’d grown used to, but a more familiar smell. A smell that felt more real, more ingrained in her subconscious- that of clothes he’d dug out of the laundry hamper to wear a few more times when everything else was too dirty even for his own standards, mixed with canned tuna and the faintest amount of deodorant that did nothing to mask the fact that he’d skipped showering for a day or two.

Her heart sank when she heard him hum to himself the song that had been stuck in her mind for ages- the one she’d been humming herself but couldn’t remember where she knew it from. This is where she knew it from. It’d been their song, in a way, a song he’d made up just for her.

“Darling, I… miss you all the time… Got you flowers, your favourite! Even that pesky Emma from the hospital remembers they’re your favourite. You’re so loved, hm? My precious girl.” She felt him sit on the edge of the bed and tried her best not to flinch when he leaned in to caress her cheek. “But I love you the most.”

She could feel her eyes well up with tears. Tears she couldn’t even blink away. 

He then started tending to her and she mustered up all of her willpower not to lurch at him when he’d gotten her out of her restraints- she knew she was no match for him, not in her weakened state by any means.

He was doing this to her. It was him! All while declaring his love for her. She felt her heart break into a million pieces, all the while forcing herself not to make any movements and break her cover. Not even when he cleaned her with wet wipes up and checked the catheters, emptying the waste bags. God- she wished she was dead. For a while she zoned out completely, much like rape victims. She just let it happen to her, dissociating from her body completely, mentally checking out.

He’d eventually poured what must’ve been eyedrops into her sockets and that brought her back to reality. Whatever reality was anymore…

And then… to her utter shock, she felt him get in bed next to her. The familiar clank of the device she’d placed back onto herself could be heard and she realized he was putting on the same headgear. 

He was… joining her? He was willingly putting himself through this? Sure, he wasn’t forced into it against his will, there was nobody strapping himself to the bed, nobody feeding him through an IV and treating him like a comatose patient.

But he was entering the simulation the same way she was. Through that headgear.

Is this what he did everyday while he was “at work”? Was this the infamously secret Victory Project that she couldn’t even ask him about- exiting that alternate reality and coming back here?

She heard him switch it on and then the whole room went dark before a projector of sorts played a familiar black and white scene on the ceiling, above the bed. She felt him interlace his fingers with hers and she was done for- she couldn’t fight it. Whatever this was, it was working fast, making her slip into unconsciousness almost immediately.

Followed directly after by her waking up in her other bedroom. Unrestrained. Nothing to force her eyes open. Clean. Rejuvenated even.

But scared shitless.

Traumatised.

Heartbroken.

She didn’t know how long she stood there, trying to make sense of it all in the darkness. Thankful to be able to move freely, thankful to feel like her old self, but well aware that it was all an illusion, that her real self was held hostage somewhere god knows where. Helpless, frail and alone.

She felt conflicted. Why was he doing this?! Why had he done this to her? She’d heard him say he loved her most. Heard he’d brought her flowers, even though she couldn’t even see them. Felt him tend to her, he was doing a lousy job at it but was keeping her alive and she could tell he was trying his best, being gentle, careful, thoughtful even when the reality was he didn’t have to. Not when, for all he knew, she was unconscious. 

This was insanity. 

There was no other explanation. No other justification. She understood the nuances- could see why this was- on paper- a better life. But it was fake! And most of all, it wasn’t her choice!

She’d been forced into it, against her will, without her even being aware of it! Her life had been robbed away from her. Her family, her friends, her hard work. The only common denominator… was Jack.

She didn’t know how to go about it, but if there was any chance of her escaping, she had to play dumb and pretend she knew nothing.

She wasn’t sure how she could face him knowing what she did, but she had to. She had to buy time, enough time until she could put her plan into motion. 

She didn’t know if she’d succeed, but she had to try. She had to. She had to escape, claim her life back, good or bad.

She got off the bed, marvelling at how strong and healthy she felt, as opposed to how she’d collapsed on the floor in her real body. That alone emboldened her, she had to go face the music.

And face the music she did. Jack had put a record on, blasting it at high volume with little consideration to her being asleep. No surprises there.

But as she approached the kitchen, she took in the sight of him… cooking. Or, trying to cook. 

Apparently, you couldn’t tweak everything in this alternate reality. Or maybe he didn’t care to fumble with his cooking skills. Because he’d definitely perfected some of his other skills–

“You’re awake!... I didn’t have time to set the table.”

“What’s going on?” She watched him scurry around the kitchen, trying to do a dozen things at once and failing. 

“Well, I’m making you dinner. Now, we were supposed to have five courses. Unfortunately, I think we’re down to about three.” 

She took note of the mess, especially the way something was about to catch on fire on the stove.

“That– don’t look at that. That course is officially off the menu.”

That’s when it clicked in her brain– the fucker had switched up his accent! He had a British accent here! Oh, she could laugh if she didn’t feel like murdering him. She reminded herself it wouldn’t be the real him she’d be murdering, though. No, for all she knew if she harmed him in any way here, she might end up trapped inside this simulation forever if her plan failed. Or until her real body died, with no one to tend for it, even as poorly as he was, in the real world.

She had to thread carefully. “What happened?”

“I got a little aggressive with the seasoning.”

“How long have you been home?”

“Uh, a few hours.” He proceeded to make even more of a mess in his attempt to jump from one dish to the next. “Okaaay. Nope. Don’t look at that. That’s– Okay, so I’m making that roast, you know the one you made for my birthday? Only with a few changes…”

“I was here when you got here?” 

“Yeah. Asleep in the bedroom. Do you put carrots in a roast?”

“How did I get home?” That was a reasonable question. Last thing she knew of this reality was she’d reached the Headquarters. She needed to know if anyone knew about it.

“Trolley, I think.”

“Wait, so he came out and got me?!”

“Who are you talking about?”

“Jack, I got off the trolley. I saw a plane crash.”

“Alice, I think I would’ve heard if there was a plane crash.”

“No, Jack, I saw it…”

“They tend to be rather loud…”

“... and I started walking–”

“–and hard to miss.”

It was dawning on her that she wasn’t going to milk any info on this out of him. He was going to pretend the plane never crashed, of course, whatever that even meant for this simulation. Or maybe the plane crashing was only visible to her version of this altered reality. She couldn’t know for sure. But he seemed unconcerned otherwise. She didn’t think he knew she’d gone there. She really must’ve re-entered right back into the bedroom, after all, she, along with all the other women, were never meant to go up there, the Headquarters were off-limits.

Meaning that was probably from where the men entered. Since they were the only ones who came and left. The women were probably all bound to their own respective beds back in the real world, they were never meant to leave the simulation. It made sense why she’d found herself back in the house- where she belonged. And it made sense if that was where the man entered and exited since that’s where they all allegedly went everyday for “work”.

Her heart sank at the realization that it was highly probable that all the other women were victims, just like her. Unless everything and everyone else was a simulation around them.

“Hey. Are you okay?”

She tried not to flinch when Jack finally noticed she’d zoned out whilst trying to process all of this, and touched her shoulder, taking a better look at her.

“No…I don’t know–I’m not…”

Before she could react, he pulled her into his arms. That smell of expensive cologne hit her again, overriding the smell of stale clothes and canned tuna from her recent memory. And his embrace felt so familiar, so comforting, that for a moment she allowed herself to pretend like this was the person she knew to love her. The person she couldn’t wait to come back home from work everyday. The person that made her smile and laugh and moan and cry tears of happiness. She knew him well, she loved him with all her heart. And she was reluctant to accept that this man was the same that was keeping her strapped against the bed. Because that was the reality of it. 

But this version of Jack that was holding her felt so real as well…

“I had a really weird dream. A really weird dream…”

“I’m sorry.”

Her heart sank. Was he, sorry? She buried her face deeper into his chest and held her breath, stifling a sob as tears flooded her eyes immediately. She wanted to break down in his arms and ask him why he’d done this. She wanted to give him a chance to explain himself. Wanted for him to somehow, magically, make it all better.

But she knew there was no way for him to do it. There was nothing he could say or do to justify what he’d done to her, even if his intentions didn’t seem as evil as they truly were to him.

Because she knew Jack. She knew he’d probably convinced himself somehow that this was the only way out of the miserable life they were living- and be it as it were, it was her life! He’d had no right to steal it from her like that. 

“Do you know what weird dreams make me? Hungry.” He fed her a carrot he was holding jokingly then turned her around as she chewed absentmindedly, her mind racing, still taking in the reality of what her life was. Or the alternate reality, more like it.

Jack cupped her face, searching her eyes and declared solemnly, “Alice, I want to be honest with you about something.”

She almost choked on the carrot she was chewing on. Was he–

“I don’t think these mashed potatoes are gonna work.”

She swallowed, a bitter taste in her mouth at her naivete. “That’s because you need to boil them first, baby…”

“I knew it… I knew there was a step missing. Such an idiot,” he smiled bashfully.

She laughed at that. A manic laugh, but he didn’t seem to notice. Not at how incompetent he was at such a basic life skill- who the hell tries to mash raw potatoes?!- but at how hopeful she’d been for a moment there, believing he was about to confess everything just like that, out of the blue.

“Let me put a pot on…”

“No, no, no–”

“Come on, let me–”

“Make us some drinks. Relax.” He pulled her out of the kitchen and into the lounge, declaring “I am your chef tonight!”

Lord knew she desperately needed a drink at this point, so she sighed heavily, getting to it, when he stopped her in her tracks, “hey!”

“Hm?”

“You love me?”

She swallowed the lump in her throat. She replied like she used to, back in the real world. Something she didn’t remember ever doing here, but it just came to her by reflex now that her memory of her past life had come back to her fully. And for some reason that she couldn’t explain, she meant it, still. “The most.”

Jack seemed pleased with her answer, and resumed his ‘cooking’. Alice turned to the whiskey bottle and downed two doubles, one after the other. 

How was she ever going to get free when her stupid heart had meant what she said?

She couldn’t allow herself to be fooled by this false reality any longer. Couldn’t allow to slip into his arms again and pretend he loved her when this was anything but love. 

So she waited. Waited until he fell asleep that night (thankfully all the “cooking” had seemingly tired him out and he didn’t try anything)- praying this meant he was truly asleep.

Got dressed, tiptoed out of the house and geared up for a long journey to the Headquarters. She couldn’t risk taking the car and waking him or the neighbours up, alerting them with this unusual behaviour. There weren't any trolleys late at night by any means- everyone was sound asleep.

Everyone but her.

She was no longer asleep.

A/N: i've been meaning to get to this for the longest while! hopefully it scratches some itches we've been left with. i had fun writing this first part. more to come 👀

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