#or future goes back in the past fics

[delicioustarong]

I have so many thoughts about Branch right now.

One particular thought of mine is this scenario, where Gray! Branch meets his future self, who is happy and colorful. I keep asking myself, "How will he react?" "What will happen?" and "How can I turn this both sad and funny?" (LMAO)

This is one of my favorite daydreams to imagine because I can't really write it out. I'm not a writer (I suck at expressing myself through words). I might draw a comic. Maybe? Idk. But anyway, I keep thinking about the fact that Branch was clearly born to be in the spotlight. Bro can adapt to new music fast, is great at singing (his voice is literally being compared to an angel), and the fact he's in two bands is just 🤯.

So whenever I imagine my daydream, I always have this specific dialogue in mind that just makes me go feral.

"How can you be so happy?! After everything we've been through! How can you smile and laugh like we aren't the reason why grandma isn't here?"

"Because grandma would want us to be happy. Grandma would want us to move on and forgive ourselves!.....I never realized that until someone showed me that I can be happy, I just needed help finding it."

[grey-viridian]

Future father-son hugs!

[zincbot]

ngl i love the naruto fic trend of 'kakashi goes back in time and has to try to fix everything'

[midnightduel]

I am not immune to the Future Leo crying in his father's arms again after twenty years. I am but a weak old man who likes her tropes.

[blindaysblogforturtles]

It's not even- look it's plain and simple hurt. The few comfort I put in won't even be that much. And I'm not really good in this- The original idea was that Leo dies in the prison dimension and the portal Mikey opens brings the corpse of his brother... and a very much alive and way older Leonardo.

So yeah everybody's grieving. I don't plan on writing this one tho, working on making it appealing without killing ma boi.

[seresinhangmanjake]

His

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x reader

Summary: You used to be a Lady, a daughter of a Great House until Feyd took you. Since then, your sole purpose has been to warm his bed, but when Rabban asks about having you for himself, Feyd makes a choice that changes your future.

Words: 2600

Notes: Possessiveness. Grumpy Feyd. I know it's similar to another one of my fics, but I realized that after the fact, so...

Feyd-Rautha Masterlist

You didn’t sleep. Not a wink. You laid in his bed all night, waiting for the man who never came, and your heart didn’t cease its ferocious beats for a second. Where is he? Why isn’t he here? Is he ok? What happened? The sun rises without answers to those questions. 

You shoot up in bed when the door eases open. Expecting to find him, you’re disappointed to see instead his harpies enter one after the other. They don’t look at you. One goes about riffling through your dresses in the closet, one heads into the bathroom and you suddenly hear a rush of water filling the tub, and the last of them goes to the vanity Feyd brought in for you, lining up makeup and hair pins that she intends to use on you. 

The air about them is poised—an echo of who they used to be before they were turned into pets—as, for the moment, their vile, more carnivorous side lies dormant. 

Feyd only allows them to near you a couple hours after they’ve been fed; the peak time between their hunger sated and their bellies rumbling. At any other time, your uniquely foreign scent wafts to their nostrils and they are incapable of holding themselves back. More than a handful of instances—when they’ve managed to manipulate the guards to open their cages with their seductive smiles—they’ve gone on the hunt for you; one time in particular, sneaking into the bedroom in the middle of the night and yanking you from Feyd’s arms with the intention of sinking their teeth into your flesh. Feyd had been so furious he’d cut a finger from each of their hands. 

Still, they don’t scare you. You see in them women not entirely unlike yourself: owned, and therefore, changed. Soft are the women who have had the luxury of marriage and child-rearing in the comforts of wealth and beautiful homes—and good for them; how lovely to be soft—but it is the women who have not a choice in their existence that develop a steel shell. And you and the harpies have steel shells. In that way, they are your kin, and you try to subtly express that when you can, even though their allegiance to Feyd can make that quite difficult.

“Where is he?” you ask. 

They ignore you, continuing with their tasks, and you huff. Yes, sometimes they refuse to speak with you, and always it seems when you need their words most. In the past, you’ve been tempted to dangle your arm in front of their sharpened fangs in the hope that the offering will encourage their cooperation, but you’ve yet to find the bravery for that. Plus, Feyd would lose his mind. Well, he would lose the rest of it. 

“You’ve spoken to me before,” you continue. “Why not now?”

One of them stops and faces you. She glances at her sister who shakes her head. 

“Tell me,” you plead. 

“We are not permitted to speak with you on the matter,” the other says to your frustration. That is not good enough. Regardless of how he sees you and how you feel, he is the one thing keeping you alive on this lifeless planet and you refuse to go about your days worrying over his safety and what his disappearance means for your fate.

You throw the sheets off your legs and stand. 

“I don’t care,” you spit as your silky nightgown falls at your ankles, but then you reconsider your tone. The harpies do not do well with aggression. Being so animalistic, their instincts are easily drawn out, and they tend to attack when attacked, which is not a fight you would win. 

You take a calming breath, placing a hand over your heart. “We are the same. He owns us, he clothes us, he feeds us,” you remind them. “On this planet, I am as much your sister as you are each other’s. We all care about him in a way and if I knew what happened to him, I would have the decency to tell you.”

The harpy who drew your bath returns to the bedroom. Having overheard your words, she crosses her arms and says, “With respect, my Lady, we are not your sisters,” she says. “We have never had him the way you have, and he does not feel for us the way he does you.” 

Your clenched jaw loosens, lips parting. If you had assumed anything about the relationship between Feyd-Rautha and his harpies, it was that they had once been where you are; that when you came along, they lost their rank and became something alike the handmaids from your home world. You’d assumed that when they warmed his bed, their handmaids were the women who entertained him before them, and so on like a disgusting, perverted pattern. But if that is not the case, then your sense of identity is even more confused. Not to mention, nary a soul has referred to you as ‘Lady’ since you were taken from your family. So why show that respect now when Feyd practically stripped you of the title months ago? 

You look to the only one of the three who seems unsure of the situation. She’s biting her lip, worrying the fabric of your unworn gown between her fingers. 

“What about you?” you ask her and her head lifts to meet your eyes. She’s the smallest of them—pixie-esque, like you read in fairytale stories as a child—and despite the core of their primal nature, the gentlest. “You want to tell me.”

The harpy by your vanity hisses, but the gentle one does not shy away at the warning. “She has been kind to us,” she tells her sister in the most self-assured tone you’ve ever heard leave her mouth. 

The sister snaps back. “He instructed us to do one thing: get her ready for the day and act like nothing is wrong. It was not to tell her what happened.”

You lightly gasp. “So something has happened,” you state, feeling your heartbeat quicken. Your chest begins to rise and fall to match the rapid rate. “Is he ok?”

There are a few seconds of silent pause before Pixie stands a little straighter, setting her shoulders in a strong line. “Our Lord na-Baron was answering for the death of his brother.”

Your head jerks back. “Rabban?” you question, your brow pinching. “Rabban is dead?”

“Yes, my Lady.”

“And Feyd is the one who killed him?” That doesn’t make any sense. While Feyd has complained enough for you to know Rabban is a bumbling idiot, he eventually found a way for his brother to serve a purpose. Why would he kill a man when he is no longer the nuisance he once was, you wonder, so you ask, “Why?”

“The Lord Rabban…made suggestions,” Pixie tells you. One of the harpies groans as the other shakes her head.

“What suggestions?”

She bites down and swallows hard, then she says, “He suggested that the na-Baron share you for his own pleasure.”

Instantly, you’re hit with a wave of nausea. Share? Share you? The concept of a foreign woman hopping between men of status is not unusual, but at this point, you assumed if Feyd were going to participate in something like that, he would have sent you off already. Not doing so didn’t even surprise you. He’s too possessive. 

“You said he was answering for Rabban’s death,” you say, but answering for that surely wouldn’t have taken so many hours, not when the Baron saw Rabban as a waste of space. “So where is he now?”

—

He doesn’t notice when you step into the training room and you’re thankful for that. You came on a mission to extract more answers out of him, but you don’t mind having a second to admire him sparing against his trainer. 

He’s sweaty. You like him sweaty—sweaty and bare-chested and perfectly, effortlessly mesmerizing as aggressive grunts leave his lips. You silently watch their violent dance, your form mouse-like by the door until his trainer looks up and halts to stare at you. Feyd whips around to follow his line of sight, then he sighs and turns back to the smaller man. He mutters something as he grabs the rag at his belt and runs it down his face. 

The trainer leaves and Feyd places his knife back on the table among many others. “I told them to keep you away today,” he says dully, monotone, not meeting your eyes as he runs his finger over the blade and fiddles with the hilt. “Incompetent brats.” 

“You didn’t come to bed.”

“I was busy,” he responds without letting a beat pass. He continues to avoid your stare and mess with the knives as if he’s never wielded them before.

You slowly step down the stairs into the pit of the room. “Busy killing your brother?” you ask. The muscles in his back twitch and flex under pale skin as he grips the hilt harder. 

“That is none of your concern.” The distance between you lessens until you’re a foot from his back, but he doesn’t turn around. 

“Even though you killed him because of me?” you ask. His neck ticks and his head tilts and shifts to adjust to the tension. When he still doesn’t respond, you try another angle. “Why are your harpies referring to me as their ‘Lady’?”

That seems to do it. Feyd faces you, crosses his arms, and leans his lower back against the table. “You think spending one night without me gives you permission to be nosy?”

You don’t give in to his method of shutting you up by aiming to make you feel silly and guilty. Instead, your eyes narrow and you mirror the crossing of arms. “Why am I a Lady again?”   

“You just are.”  

“Are you sending me home?”

His eyes flash. Blue irises darken a shade. “Don’t be stupid.”

“So I’m a Lady on Giedi Prime?” you ask, dropping your chin to emphasize how ridiculous that sounds. 

The edge of Feyd’s jaw sharpens as he clenches his back teeth. “Stop asking questions.”

“Then answer one,” you say. 

It’s a shot taken by an untrained hand, as he doesn’t enjoy demands, especially not from you, but you figure you have nothing to lose in the attempt, so you don’t cower under his menacing glare. You wait. And much to your surprise, he surrenders. 

He blinks, and when his eyes open, they have softened ever so slightly. Then he says, “You’re marrying me,” and everything from your lungs to your limbs freezes in shock. 

“W–What?” you stutter. That makes less sense than Rabban’s sudden death. 

Feyd groans and stands straight, his arms falling at his sides. “See what being nosy gets you?” he snaps. “I wasn’t going to tell you immediately, and you had to go and ruin it.”

He grabs a fresh knife and stomps his way over to a dummy, ready to attack something other than you for the insecurity that he can’t completely contain. You’ve never witnessed him insecure, but you know the feeling when you see it—the defense mechanism, the distancing himself, the grumbly attitude. 

“I’m not sure I understand,” you press as he slashes and stabs at the soulless victim. “I’m marrying you because you killed your brother for wanting to fuck me?”

With a grunt, the dummy’s head severs from its torso and flies off in your direction. It rolls and rolls and stops just before hitting your feet. The dead eyes stare up at you in silent amusement. Now you’ve done it, they mock.

“I don’t ever want to hear those words come out of your mouth again, do you understand me?” Feyd growls.

Your eyes shoot to his. “The marrying you part or The your brother fucking me part?”

He tosses the knife aside. It clatters against the ground as he closes in on you. His hand wraps around your neck. “Don't test me,” he grits out through clenched teeth. “I will sew your damn lips shut if I have to.”

An empty threat if you’ve ever heard one. He would never harm you, but even if he were going to try, his fingers would need to be squeezing much tighter.

You roll your eyes. “Well then how am I going to suck your cock?”

Something about the tease stuns him. His tense features immediately settle and his whole body eases with his exhale. Glancing at your lips, he licks his own, and you think he might decide to kiss you—after all, it’s been a good twenty-four hours since the last one—but he doesn’t.

You snort. “Didn’t think that one through, did you.”

Long fingers unwrap from around your neck. “You’re not funny,” he mumbles with an odd sense of shame.

“If you don’t find me entertaining, can you maybe take the time to explain all of this better?”   

Feyd considers keeping his mouth shut. You know him well enough to know that. However, it’s ridiculous to contemplate since he’s already spilled the bigger news. Nothing could be more shocking than you, after the bed-warming position you’ve held for months, becoming his wife. 

“My uncle was going to take you away from me for killing Rabban,” he finally says. “So I told him I've had plans to marry you for the alliance and that's why I refused to share you. Rabban wouldn’t take no for an answer, so he had to die.”

Raising a brow, you say, “The Baron accepted that explanation? My House may be one of the Greats, but we do not offer much for Giedi Prime.”

Feyd shrugs. “My uncle enjoys anything that causes upset. Marrying me means we will always own something very valuable to your family.”

It would likely offend another, but you don’t mind being owned. While the Baron may believe the Harkonnens as a whole will own you, you belong to Feyd and Feyd alone. He’ll never allow anyone to hurt you and now he’ll never have to fight or argue with anyone to stake his claim, which works for you just fine, to say the very least. 

“Thank you,” you say.

“For what?”

Your head tilts as you smile. “Caring enough to protect me.”

“Don't flatter yourself,” he says. “I didn't do it for you, I did it for my own benefit.”

Your sweet smile morphs into a smirk. “The benefit being that you get to keep me all to yourself…for the rest of your life.”

With a scoff, Feyd rolls his eyes and crosses his arms again. “Whatever.”

“Feyd…” you sigh, leaning into him.

“What?” he returns in his snarky tone as if he doesn’t want you near, but he doesn’t step out of the bubble of your space.

“I'm happy.”

A pink tinge sneaks onto his pale skin, and he quickly looks away. And before he has a chance to come up with some witty remark to smack you with, you grab his face and press your lips to his. 

You hold on to him until he starts to kiss you back, and then he's reaching for you, pulling you close, wrapping his arms around you, and you know you won't be going anywhere for a good long while.

[1800-fight-me]

Future

Logan Howlett x Female!Reader Rating: E (Explicit-MINORS DO NOT INTERACT) Warnings: Angst with a happy ending, explicit PiV sex as well as oral sex (M&F receiving), breeding kink, and daddy kink (oof) Word count: A little over 8.3k Synopsis: Logan goes back to the past in an attempt to save the world, but more importantly- you. (Set in X-Men Days of Future Past and switches between Logan and Reader's POV) Author’s note: Something about Logan makes me absolutely insane to the point that I wrote the longest most explicit sex scene I've ever written.... please enjoy P.S. I do not have a taglist! Instead if you would like to be notified when I post new fics follow my side blog @jo-writes-fanfic and turn your post notifications on! Comments and reblogs make my day! Main Masterlist

LOGAN’S POV

The future was dark and bleak. A war of uncontrollable violence, more than Logan had ever seen in his long life. 

The only bright spot in such a horrific future was you. You were the peace and rest his aching soul had long been searching for. 

It started as two people seeking solace and relief in one another, but the foundation of friendship created something so much more significant than either of you could have predicted. 

You became the planet around which he orbited. The home he never thought he’d find. The balm to his raging fire. 

Despite the hell that was life in the future, he had you. It was fitting that it caused the world falling to shit for him to finally find you. 

His self deprecating thoughts also told him that it was fitting that he lost you too. He didn’t deserve a love so pure and bright. He didn’t deserve such happiness when everyone else he cared about was either suffering or dead. 

All the blood on his hands left him marked, scarred, filthy down to his soul. But you looked past all of that, claimed you loved him anyway, claimed him. 

He was yours completely, worshiped at the altar of your affection, would go any lengths for you- do anything you ask. 

He would do anything to protect you, and it was the biggest black mark on his soul, after an extended lifetime full of mistakes, that he wasn’t able to protect you when it mattered the most. 

He shredded the sentinels, the unkillable soldiers in his rage, but one had slipped past his defenses, used your own healing powers against you and sucked the life right from you. Snuffed out your bright light all too soon. 

He killed, and killed, and killed- and it still didn’t bring you back. 

No one and nothing but him made it out of that abandoned warehouse that night. It was the tipping point for him, it made him bloodthirsty and reckless. It made him willing to go along with Charles and Eric’s ridiculous plan. 

As he laid down on the stone slab and allowed the young mutant to send him to the past, his thoughts were only on you. 

Everyone knew what his hopes were, but it went unspoken for fear it wouldn’t come true. Logan went back to the past with the desperate desire that he would wake up in a future in which you were still alive. A future he hadn’t already destroyed with the worst mistake he’d ever made. A better future. One you deserved, he would give you anything and everything you asked if he could bring you back. 

He woke in 1973 in the arms of a woman who wasn’t you, a woman he didn’t really remember. He hadn’t met you yet in 1973, unfortunately it would be a long while before he met you. And besides, he didn’t have time to search for you, he only had enough time for his mission. 

He could only hold onto the hope that he would see you again in the future, if he could change things for the better- if he could finally do something right. 

You were his motivation through dealing with younger versions of Charles and Eric, through all the missteps and mistakes, he tried his best to not lose hope. 

One last chance, after the mess that was Paris, this intervention was the only possibility of setting things right. 

They had to prevent Raven from killing Trask at this ridiculous anti-mutant presentation. Logan was inclined to agree with Raven at this point, but he knew the outcome of that decision and it was one he couldn’t live with. 

He and Hank made their way through the large crowds as Hank pushed Charles’ wheelchair, all focused only on their task at hand. Logan scanned the crowd, looking for Mystique despite the fact that Charles would be the only one able to find her. 

A voice met his ears, one that made his spine go rod straight. A voice he had unconsciously trained himself to seek out over years. 

“I really don’t want to be here,” the voice grumbled. 

Logan whipped his head to the left so quickly that if it was possible he probably would have given himself whiplash. 

It was you. 

His heart pounded harder than it had in the entirety of his two hundred something years. 

He stopped dead in his tracks and it was a force of will to not stare at you with his mouth hanging open. 

You looked different, but the same. You were younger obviously, your hairstyle and clothes were completely different, but that was you. 

His hand ached with the need to hold you, just one more time. 

“Please, I get extra credit for attending this thing and I can’t fail my government class,” the woman who he assumed was your friend whined as she clutched at your wrist. 

He did a mental tally in his head. Of course, he should’ve remembered that in the early seventies you were in a college not too far from Washington DC. It really wasn’t a huge coincidence that you would be here, but still it felt monumental. 

You looked over at her and huffed in resignation. 

God, you were cute, he thought. 

“Besides, maybe you can meet a handsome guy here. That would lift your spirits, wouldn’t it?” your friend said as she wiggled her eyebrows at you. 

You rolled your eyes and said, “This isn’t a bar, Jenna. This is anti-mutant government propaganda bullshit.” 

As did so often, he agreed with you. 

She pouted at you. “Well what if I promise to take you to a bar right after this ends?” 

You looked over at her in exasperated fondness and let her pull you forward, closer to where Logan and Hank stood in the crowd. 

Hank was saying something to him, something he didn’t hear - his attention entirely on you, and he snapped his head back to Hank as he shook his shoulder. 

“What?” Logan snapped. 

“Who are you looking at? Do you see Raven?” Hank asked. 

Logan took a deep breath and said, “No. I’m looking at my wife.” 

“Oh no,” Hank muttered. 

“Logan you can’t-“

”It’s not safe for her here,” Logan growled. 

————————————————-

YOUR POV

“Look, that guy is looking at you,” Jenna whispered in your ear. 

You followed her line of sight and saw the most handsome man you’d ever seen. 

He was exactly your type and in tight jeans to boot. He was huge- tall and extremely muscular. His dark hair was the kind of neat disheveled that begged you to run your fingers through it. His eyes were hidden by sunglasses but you could feel his intense gaze through them. 

“Holy shit he’s good looking,” you murmured and your friend giggled. 

He looked over at who you assumed was his friend and you continued to take him in. You weren’t sure you’d ever checked out a stranger in such a blatant manner before. There was something about him so inviting, despite his tense posture and intense demeanor, that your mouth was practically watering. 

“The guy next to him is cute too. Maybe we should go talk to them,” Jenna said. 

You tore your eyes from the object of your lust, and looked at the man next to him. He was cute in a nerdy way- exactly Jenna’s type. There was a third man with them, he was in a wheelchair and had his fingers to his temple as he scanned the crowd clearly in search of something or someone important. 

“I think they’re coming to us,” you said as the nerdy guy walked towards you. 

But unfortunately, the one you wanted to come closer didn’t, he stayed with his companion in the wheelchair and bent down to whisper something in his ear. 

“Hey ladies,” the man in glasses said as he approached you and Jenna. 

She immediately began to smile and twirl her hair around her finger as she spoke with him eagerly. 

He introduced himself as Hank and you shook his hand and introduced yourself as well, but your eyes continued to drift behind him to the other man, the one who you felt an inexplicable tug toward. 

“What about your friend?” you asked, your words an interruption to whatever Hank had been saying to Jenna. 

Hank looked stressed, but you looked back at the large man only a stone's throw away. 

He looked up and made eye contact with you, he must have taken his sunglasses off while you weren’t paying attention. Never before had you felt so stripped bare by just meeting a man’s eyes, there was a whirlwind of emotions within them- something akin to familiarity, possibly even love, and hunger. 

It took several moments of drowning in his gaze before you regained your wits about you. You smirked at him. 

He crossed his arms over his chest, which made him appear even larger as his muscles flexed. He raised a brow at you, but his lips were upturned in a small smile as if he was smiling despite himself. 

You crooked a finger at him, an invitation to come closer. 

He smiled and shook his head slightly, almost as if he were reprimanding himself but also couldn’t help himself. He turned his head and said something to his friend in the wheelchair before he strutted over to you. 

Every long stride he took towards you led to a tightening in your chest. It wasn’t fear, no, it was yearning. There was something inside you that wanted- no, needed, to know him. 

Your instincts were all wrong, he looked like a predator closing in on his prey, something about him sharp and animalistic as he approached you, and yet you felt at ease, intrigued, safe. 

“Hi,” you breathed out as he reached you. He smirked and stood a bit closer than would be normal for a stranger, but you didn’t mind at all as you looked up at his towering figure. 

He introduced himself in a low gravelly voice that sent a shiver down your spine and hearing his name was like an answer to a question you didn’t even know you’d been asking. 

Logan. 

You told him your name and he had this secret smile as if he already knew what you were going to say. 

He repeated your name, and something in you changed forever at the sound of it on his lips. 

“How come you didn’t wanna come say hi?” You asked teasingly. 

He looked at you and you felt more at home than ever before, which you knew sounded insane, but you couldn’t deny the way he made you feel. 

“Oh I wanted to,” he said and warmth filled you as you smiled at him. 

“Logan,” Hank hissed as he elbowed him. 

You’d honestly forgotten that you and Logan weren’t the only two people in the world at that moment. You’d forgotten about Jenna, and Hank, and the teeming crowd of people around you. 

“I know,” Logan replied to Hank in a grumpy tone that made you huff a small laugh. 

“Listen, I know this is going to sound crazy, but you need to leave. This isn’t safe,” Logan said fervently as he placed a large hand gently on your upper arm. 

You scrunched your brows at him in confusion. 

“Is this some kind of ploy to get me to leave with you?” You joked. 

He chuckled, the sound from deep in his chest, and you grinned. 

“If only,” he said. “No, pretty girl, I have to stay here.”

“I’m sorry, I’m confused,” you said. 

His thumb rubbed up and down your arm in a way that was both comforting and familiar. 

He glanced over at your friend, and as he saw that she was deep in conversation with Hank, he leaned closer to you in order to whisper in your ear. 

“This isn’t a safe place for mutants,” he murmured, urgency in his voice. 

You pulled back enough to look into his eyes, shock evident in your expression. 

“How do you know-“ you gasped quietly. 

He shook his head, “I’m one too, I can explain everything later, but please- for your own safety sweetheart, please leave.” 

You met his gaze and something about the urgency and care you found in his eyes made you believe him. 

“I suppose I’ll take your word for it. There’s a bar across town called McClarin’s, will you meet me there tonight? You can buy me a drink and explain all this weirdness.” You said. 

There was a flash of something akin to sadness in his eyes, but he gave you a tight smile and said, “Of course, I’ll be there. I’d do anything you ask.” 

You believed him. 

So you turned your head to your friend and said, “Jenna, we’re leaving.” 

You ignored her protests and stood on your tiptoes and pressed a kiss to Logan’s cheek. 

His hazel eyes fluttered closed, as if he were savoring the feeling of your lips against his skin. 

“Until tonight,” you said as you slipped your hand in Jenna’s. He nodded in agreement and you turned and walked away from him. 

“Why are we leaving?” Jenna complained. 

“They’re going to meet us at the bar later, we can watch the broadcast on the TV,” you said. 

She huffed but agreed as you led her out of the crowd and towards safety. 

A little while later you sat at the bar with Jenna- you ate pretzels and nursed a beer, and watched the news. 

Logan had been right, it was a dangerous situation for mutants. 

Tears filled your eyes and your heart dropped into your stomach as you watched as Logan was massacred by Magneto. His body was violently filled with pieces of metal and then thrown so far the cameras didn’t catch where he landed. 

He had to be dead, no one survived something like that. He saved your life and then didn’t survive the fight he protected you from. 

None of the news outlets had any information on your mysterious savior. 

You spent the evening calling both hospitals and morgues and no one had any knowledge of Logan or even a John Doe that matched his description. 

Weeks went by with no news. There was a hole in your heart, which seemed ridiculous considering you’d only met him once, but there was something about a promise unfulfilled. 

There was a feeling as if your future had been altered completely, as if Logan was supposed to be a part of it but now he never would be. 

————————————————-

Your mutant ability to heal others and yourself led you to work in a hospital as a nurse after you completed all of your schooling. 

Years passed and you met Storm when she literally landed in your hospital, as in she was thrown by an enemy and crashed through the ceiling. 

You stared at her in shock, then jumped towards her and used your powers to heal the gash in her stomach where blood had already begun pooling. She thanked you before flying off into battle once more. 

Once the fight was won, Storm came back and asked you to come with her to Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters. 

You were intrigued and soon found yourself as a professor of health sciences, part time school nurse, and an X-Man on the side. You weren’t much of a fighter, during missions you really mostly hung back and healed the injured X-Men as well as any civilians fought in the crossfire. 

It was a fulfilling life, one you enjoyed immensely, but something always felt like it was missing. You dated a bit but being so busy prevented anything deep. 

There was no spark, no instant connection with anyone like there had been with Logan. You supposed it really was a once in a lifetime experience. 

It didn’t help that you weren’t interested in anyone romantically that you worked with. Storm, who had quickly become a great friend, encouraged you to give Hank a chance when he pursued you. You tried, he was nice, but it just wasn’t love, and after a few months you ended it. Luckily you were able to remain as friends. 

Time passed and Professor X pointed out to you that you didn’t appear to age. At first you brushed him off as ridiculous, but eventually consented to let Jean run tests on you. 

As it turned out, your ability to heal yourself extended to things such as diseases and life’s natural course of aging. 

Eternity yawned its horrid mouth open before you and the loneliness of it threatened to swallow you whole. 

You took a leave of absence to avoid others seeing you in the midst of an existential crisis. You traveled for a couple of months, took time to see the world in a way you never had before, met beautiful strangers, and came to terms with the fact that it was likely you would never die, that any connections you did make would die long before you were ever ready. 

You decided to make the most of life, embrace the joy and the hurt, and returned home. 

As soon as you walked through the door of the mansion, everything felt different, but perhaps it was you that was changed so irrevocably. 

You made your way towards Professor X’s office and literally ran into a man as he walked out. 

“Ugh,” you groaned as your face squished into a broad chest. The body you slammed into was so sturdy the man didn’t even stumble, he merely placed large hands on your shoulders to steady you. 

“Woah there, speedy. You alright?” A deep voice said. Something about that voice tickled something in the back of your brain, a memory from years ago. 

“Sorry!,” you exclaimed as you stepped back and looked up to see his face. 

“Logan,” you breathed out in surprise as you finally saw him. He looked nearly the same as all those years ago. His hair and clothes were slightly different, but it was definitely him. He was as handsome as the day you lost him.

He raised a brow in confusion as he looked at you. 

“Have we met?” He asked. 

Your heart dropped into your stomach. The man of your dreams, the man you thought had died and yet you had continued to pine over for years, was standing before you and didn’t remember you. He didn’t remember meeting you, an experience that had been so cataclysmic in your life but apparently unimpressionable in his. 

“Yes, many years ago,” you breathed out. 

He looked you up and down and said, “Well, I really wish I remembered that.” 

You huffed a laugh to cover up the ache in your heart as you looked down at your feet. You told him your name as his hands finally slipped from your shoulders, you mourned the loss of his touch. 

As he repeated your name in that gravelly tone your heart thumped harder in your chest, despite yourself. 

“I don’t remember anything before a few years ago,” he said. 

“Oh?” You asked. Maybe it wasn’t that you were forgettable, it was just that he didn’t remember anything. 

“What happened?” You breathed out. 

Confusion and echoes of pain clouded his gorgeous hazel eyes. “I don’t remember, but I know it was painful,” he said. 

You placed a hand on his arm in comfort and said, “Maybe the professor can help you figure it out.” 

He nodded, “Not sure if I’ll be sticking around long enough. Being on a team isn’t really my thing.” 

“Sure it’s not,” you teased with a wink, thinking back to the team he was clearly a part of back when you met him. 

He grumbled something you didn’t quite catch at the same time Charles came out of his office to greet you. 

You bid Logan goodbye as you followed Charles into his office to catch up after your extended absence. 

Your heart still pounded from meeting Logan and you wore a grin you couldn’t prevent for several minutes. 

And to your delight, you found out later in the day that Logan decided to stay. You weren’t sure what the deciding factor was, but you were happy all the same. 

Maybe things would fall into place, perhaps your future could end up brighter than previously anticipated. 

————————————————-

LOGAN’S POV

Logan awoke, the same song playing on the radio, your song. He lurched out of the bed and stumbled out of the room. As he opened the door wonder filled him as he realized he was in the mansion. 

Children bustled past him as they went to their classes. Friends and family that were long since passed in his future smiled and waved at him as he walked through his home eyes full of wonder. 

It had worked, all the effort and pain had been worth it, everything was as it should be. The only question that remained was you. Where were you? 

He made his way to Charles’ office and sighed in relief when he saw him safe and alive. 

His old friend welcomed him back to the future, a better future. 

“Where is she?” He breathed out as Charles read his mind, getting a glimpse of his past. 

“She’s here, she’s safe, but Logan you should know-“ 

At that moment you walked into Charles’ office and if Logan wasn’t already sitting he would’ve fallen to his knees. He’d never seen such a beautiful sight. 

He breathed out your name like a prayer and you looked over at him. He didn’t even register the look on your face, he’d already made his way across the room and wrapped you in his arms. 

“Logan,” you squeaked out. “What the hell?” 

He lifted you up and buried his face in your neck. 

“Can’t breathe,” you huffed as you pushed on his shoulders in an attempt to get him to release you from the vice hold he had you in. 

He put you down and looked down at you, placed a hand on the side of your gorgeous face- it wasn’t until now that he took in your expression. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked. 

You pulled back from him again, even went so far as to push his hand from you and took a step back. 

“What’s gotten into you? Why the hell do you think you can just-” You asked in confusion, irritation coloring your tone. 

He cut you off as he blurted out, “What? I don’t understand-“ 

“Logan, in this timeline you and her broke up,” Charles said. 

“Broke up?” Logan asked with raised eyebrows, the words lacked any meaning to him. There was no future in which he and you were not together. It was inconceivable. 

“That’s ridiculous,” Logan said. At the same time you asked, “this timeline?” 

You both looked at one another in confusion. 

“Sit, both of you, let me explain,” Charles said. 

Logan sat and watched your expression change from suspiciousness to utter shock as Charles explained that Logan was from a different future, a different timeline, and had replaced the Logan you knew. 

He didn’t remember anything after 1973, other than the horrible future he had come from. But he did remember the first time you met that day in Washington DC. Although for him that was far from the first time you’d met.

“That’s a lot of information. I think you broke my brain- that’s so confusing,” you breathed out. 

Logan’s heart threatened to beat out of his chest as he tried to gauge your reaction. 

You turned to him. “So in this future I’m guessing you and I are together?” 

Logan nodded. 

“Well not in this one,” you muttered and stood to leave. 

“Wait, princess - talk to me,” Logan pleaded as he grabbed your hand. 

You turned back and glared at him. “Logan, I don’t care which version of you it was, you broke my heart and I have no interest in sitting here listening to any more of this.” 

You yanked your hand from his and stormed out of the office. You left him feeling helpless and empty. 

He looked over at the Professor. “What happened?” He asked. 

“It’s still fresh. The others have found her crying multiple times over the last few days. I tried not to pry but-“ 

“You went into her head,” Logan guessed and Charles nodded. 

He prepared himself for the worst and the flicker of hope in his chest began to gutter. He would be devastated if after all of this he couldn’t be with you. 

“The two of you have been together for about five years, were close friends for years before that, but she ended it about a week ago during an argument. She wanted to have a child and you didn’t,” Charles explained. 

“That’s it? She wants a baby? I’ll give her a baby. I’ll give her whatever she wants, the version of me from this timeline must be a goddamn idiot,” Logan said sharply. 

Charles chuckled. “I spoke to the other you yesterday, he had come to the same conclusion. It wasn’t that he didn’t want a child, he was just letting his fears get in the way.” 

“I have to go talk to her,” Logan practically growled as he stood and stalked out of the office in search of you. 

It wasn’t difficult to find you. He had memorized the sound of your heartbeat, your scent, and was all too familiar with the salty tang of your tears. 

He found you in a bedroom he assumed was yours, he knocked and let himself in despite your garbled yell of, “Go away!” 

It was clear this was the makeshift room you’d moved into after the break up, your decorations were all in boxes, your clothes piled everywhere and spilled out of drawers, and everything all together more messy and haphazard than he knew you liked to keep things. 

You sat curled in the bed as tears streamed down your sweet face. 

“Go away Lo,“ you sniffled as you quickly wiped your tears away. 

“Oh, my sweet girl-“ Logan said in a gentle voice only you knew. 

“No, Logan I’m not yours anymore,” the words were weak and he could tell you didn’t even really mean them. 

He came closer to the bed and you glared at him but didn’t say a word as he sat down and pulled you into his lap. 

You sunk into his embrace and buried your face in his neck. He ran his hand up and down your back soothingly. 

Your fingers tangled into his shirt, your breaths were shaky, and a few more tears managed to escape. His heart ached at the pain you were in. 

“I changed the timeline of our universe to be with you. I’m not gonna let anything stand in our way. So, you want a baby, I’ll give you a baby. I’ll give you as many babies as you want. I’ll give you anything you want, I’d do anything for you. I love you,” he said and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. 

“But-“ 

“And before you ask, Charles told me that the Logan in this future had come to the same conclusion and was planning on making things right with you today. In every timeline, I want to make you happy.” 

He wiped the tears from your face and pressed a kiss to your forehead. 

“Did we ever talk about kids in your future?” You asked in a soft vulnerable voice. 

He held you tighter. 

“Only once, but it wasn’t a possibility for us, that future was too dangerous. So dangerous that I lost you. I wouldn’t survive losing you again.” 

At the pain in his voice you pulled back enough to meet his gaze. 

“Tell me about that future,” you asked gently. 

And so he did, every awful part of it as he held you in his arms and reminded himself that this was real, that you were safe and alive, that this was his new future. 

You wiped the tear that slipped down his face as you looked up at him in awe. 

“You did all that for me? For us?” You asked in wonder. 

“I’d do anything for you,” he said fervently. You placed your hand on the side of his face and his eyes fluttered closed as he finally, finally received affection from you after so long. 

He nuzzled his face into your hand, pressed his lips against the pulse point at your wrist, finally let himself sink into your intoxicating presence. 

You slipped your hand into his hair and pressed a featherlight kiss to his lips. The weight of time without you pressed in on him and his self control snapped, with one hand on the back of your head and the other on your waist, he crushed you against his body and kissed you with desperation. 

He wanted to consume you, to sink inside you, to never be apart from you again. 

You made a high pitched sweet sound of surprise before you kissed him just as fervently. He groaned into your mouth at the taste of you as his tongue slipped into your mouth. 

It was absolute heaven. 

This kiss could have gone on for hours or perhaps only seconds, he didn't know, no time was enough with you. 

You pulled back and looked at him. “I love you,” you said. 

“I love you,” he groaned and pressed his lips to yours repeatedly. 

You breathed out a soft giggle at his expression of adoration. 

He tilted his head back to look you deep in the eyes once more and said, “Let’s make a baby.” 

You looked flustered and he thought it was the sweetest thing he’d ever seen. 

“Right now? I-“ 

“I’ve missed you so much, sweetheart. I want to. Wanna give you want you want,” he moaned as he kissed you again. 

“Missed you too,” you whimpered as his lips drifted across your jaw and down your throat. 

————————————————-

YOUR POV

It was all consuming. He was everywhere all at once as he laid you on your back and pressed himself on top of you. 

The weight and heat of him was both comforting and intoxicating. The last few hours had given you emotional whiplash, but it was Logan. 

Apparently he was your soulmate no matter the timeline. He kissed you as if he were drowning and you were his breath of fresh air. He said everything you’d been dreaming of, and more as he declared his love and promised to fulfill your every desire. 

There was nothing the two of you couldn’t overcome as a team. You loved him and he loved you, and maybe that was all that mattered. 

As he bit down on your neck, all other thoughts flew from your head, it was just him. You and him- forever. There would be no long lonely life, he would be by your side always. 

“Logan,” you gasped and he groaned against your neck as he continued to nip and suck at the skin there. He loved to mark you as his and the thought made your toes curl. 

As if he could read your mind, he said, “Tell me you’re mine.”

His tongue licked up the column of your throat and you panted, “I’m yours, Lo. Only yours.” 

“Marry me,” he murmured against your skin. 

‘What?” You breathed out as you placed your hands on either side of your face and pulled him back enough to meet his hazel gaze. His pupils were blown with a combination of love and lust which caused heat to fill your entire body. 

“Marry me,” he repeated, then pressed his lips to yours again. 

“Yes,” you gasped into his mouth. His fingers gripped your waist tighter as they slipped under your shirt and met your heated skin. 

“Let me make you mine forever,” he growled and you whimpered and nodded as you tugged at his t-shirt. 

He helped you pull it off him and you let out a soft groan as your hand explored his broad chest, then down his muscled torso as you followed the trail of hair that led to the vee partially hidden beneath his jeans. Your mouth watered as your hand reached his belt, and you saw the evidence of his desire for you straining against his pants. 

He snatched your hand right as you were about to reach his hardened length and you whined in frustration. 

“Please, Lo,” you breathed out and he smirked in that cocky way that made you want to either smack him or suck him off. 

“No, I’m gonna take my time with you, pretty girl,” he said as he pulled your shirt off, then immediately followed with removing your bra. You whimpered again at the feeling of his skin against yours as he leaned back down and kissed you. 

His lips trailed to your breasts and you moaned as he licked and suckled at your sensitive nipples. Your core heated and throbbed as you became slick with desire for him.

You gripped the muscles of his tensed shoulders as you wrapped your legs around his trim waist. 

You attempted to grind yourself against his hard cock but he bit down on your neck in reprimand. 

“Stop that,” he growled. 

You moaned in response and he chuckled darkly. Suddenly he sat up- and you squeaked in surprise at the sudden shift as he stood from the bed. Before you could respond, he yanked you to the edge of the bed and kneeled before you. 

“C’mon, be a good girl and I’ll reward you with my cock, I’ll fill you to the brim, give you a baby just like you want. You just have to be a good girl and let me make you come on my tongue, can you do that princess- hm?” 

You moaned at his words, nodding vigorously as he slid off your jeans and spread your legs before him. 

“Use your words,” he taunted as he rested your legs on his broad shoulders. 

His nose ran up, up, up the inside of your thigh until it reached your panties. He groaned deeply as he took in a deep breath- turned near feral at the scent of your arousal. 

“Yes, yes, I’ll be good, please- just please, Lo,” you babbled. 

Another deep noise from the back of his throat came from the sounds of your sweet begging as he used his teeth to pull your panties off. 

You gasped as his warm wet tongue licked up your gushing pussy, all the way from your hole to your throbbing clit. 

“You this wet just for me, princess?” He said, the words muffled against your cunt. He began flicking his tongue over the most sensitive part of you and you keened. 

Your back arched and you plunged your fingers into his hair, your fingers tangled in and gripped the brown and silver strands. 

“Yes, for you, only for you, always for you,” rambled. 

The squelching sounds of your cunt as he pressed two fingers inside mixed with your heavy pants and his groans to create the most erotic symphony you’d ever heard. 

Your whines reached a fever pitch as his fingers curdled and pressed against the spongy spot inside you that made you forget anything but his name as his tongue continued to flick and swirl around your clit. 

“Logan!” you moaned. 

“Missed this pretty pussy,” he growled. 

Heat filled you as electricity prickled up your spine. You writhed on the bed and pressed your cunt closer to his mouth.  

One of his large hands smacked your hip lightly in reprimand. He then laid his arm down across your waist to hold you still. 

“Thought you were gonna be a good girl, or do I need to stop,” he teased as he looked up at you and you moaned. 

You slick coated his lips and beard, his hair was disheveled from your hands, and his gorgeous eyes were blown with desire. 

“No, I’ll be good, promise,” you panted. 

He smiled at you, the kind of smile a predator gives their prey before they pounce, and licked you once again. 

You were completely at his mercy, pinned to the bed, his fingers inside you and his mouth on your cunt. 

You dug your heels into the muscles of his back in an attempt to urge him on.  

The tension inside you built and built as his tongue continued its ministrations. 

“M’gonna come, Lo,” you whined. 

“Good girl, come for me,” he replied then sucked on your clit. 

The pleasure was so intense as his thick fingers continued to hit that spot inside you that lightning ran up your spine and you came with a moan of his name. 

He continued to lick until you yanked on his hair in an attempt to pull his head away as his arm across your hips kept you pinned to the bed and wiggling away wasn’t an option. 

He chuckled darkly as he pressed a final kiss to your bundle of pleasure then looked up at you. 

“Did I do good? You gonna reward me with your cock, daddy?” you asked. 

There was a heartbeat before he replied, where you worried you went too far as he looked at you in surprise.

But then came his response, “Fuck. Yes, sweetheart, you’re perfect. Daddy’s gonna give you his cock, gonna fill you up real good.” 

You whimpered in desire as he stood. You sat up and immediately began to yank at his belt. 

He smirked as he looked down on you- watched you in your desperation to reach his thick cock. 

Your mouth watered as you won your fight with his belt and zipper and yanked the jeans down enough to get a glimpse of his gloriously hard dick. 

Logan finally took pity on you and helped you to remove his pants altogether, which left him wonderfully bare before you. 

Good god, he was sexy- his rippling muscles glistened with sweat and you wanted to lick every inch of his skin. 

He lifted your face with a hand on your chin so you would meet his eyes once more. 

At the heat in his gaze you felt yourself gush even more. 

His thumb brushed across your bottom lip and you obediently opened your mouth. He pressed his thumb into your mouth and you moaned softly as you sucked on it. 

“Shit, you’re killing me, pretty girl. Lay back, I need to be inside you,” he growled. 

You let him pull his thumb out of your mouth and looked up at him through your lashes. 

“Can I taste you first?” you asked sweetly. 

His eyes rolled back into his head and he gripped your chin tighter. 

“Course you can, my good girl gets whatever she wants,” he said then led your face closer to his cock. 

You wanted to live in this moment forever, your head fuzzy with ecstasy only he could provide and empty of anything but him as you were eager to please him. You wanted to be his - in every possible way. 

You wrapped one hand around the base of his cock and pressed a kiss to the tip as you looked up at him. His breaths stuttered and power rushed to your head. You had this big strong man literally in the palm of your hand as you gave him pleasure that nearly brought him to his knees as your tongue peeked out and you licked the sensitive underside of his tip. 

He groaned your name and that prompted you on as you opened your mouth and began to take in some of his length and suckled gently. 

You moaned at the salty taste of him in your mouth, and took him in deeper as your hand worked in tandem. 

“You look so pretty like this,” he murmured. 

You rubbed your thighs together in an desperate but fruitless attempt to generate friction as your clit throbbed again with need. There was nothing as delicious as the grunts and groans Logan made as you took him deeper into your mouth. 

His hand slipped from the side of your face to cradle the back of your head and you moaned around his length as he led you to take him deeper into your throat. You took deep breaths through your nose as you swallowed him, taking him in far enough that you no longer needed to use your hand and instead used your hand to gently cup his balls. 

“That’s it, doing so good f’me,” Logan groaned. 

The musky scent of him filled your nostrils as your nose brushed against the wiry hairs at the base of his cock. His other hand began to flick and pinch at your nipple and you moaned around his length. 

His size was substantial, but you were used to it at this point and your head emptied, only Logan present in your mind, as you let him guide your mouth up and down on his cock as you sucked him deeper. 

It was everything you wanted and more, until he pulled you off him. A string of saliva connected from your bottom lip to his tip as you gasped for air and looked up at him. 

He wiped away the spit as he murmured out, “fuckin’ perfect.” 

You whimpered as he surged forward and kissed you, near feral with desire. 

“Logan,” you gasped as he manhandled you further back onto the bed and laid himself on top of you. 

He continued to kiss you, his lips moved against yours and you surged closer- your chin bumped his as you kissed him urgently. His tongue explored your mouth and electricity filled you. Your body was filled with desperation as you wrapped your legs around his trim waist. 

“Need you inside me, please daddy, need your huge cock inside me, need you to fill me up,” you pleaded as he began to kiss and suck on your neck. You knew there would be bruises there tomorrow, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care - it was only more evidence that you belonged to him. 

He chuckled darkly and said, “You sound so pretty when you beg, princess. Don’t worry, daddy’s got you.” He reached down and lined his cock up to your desperate hole and you whined in relief. 

Slowly, so slowly, Logan pressed himself inside you. Inch by inch he sunk his cock deep inside your cunt and the feeling was unlike any other. 

He caged you in with his large arms on either side of your head and you pulled his face down for another desperate kiss. 

Once he was seated fully inside you, it was as if all the franticness of the moment dissipated and you both felt the need to savor the moment, to extend it for as long as possible, to live in this experience of perfection for eternity. 

There were times that sex with Logan was rough and animalistic, but you both knew that this wouldn’t be one of those times. This was making love - this was a reunion, a reconciliation, a healing of hurts, a fusion of souls. 

You looked deep into his eyes and found home. 

You locked your ankles around his waist to keep him close, the desire to be as close to him as possible all consuming. His deep breaths pressed his chest against yours and there was nothing in the world but you and him. 

One of his hands stroked your arm as you reached up and placed your hand on the side of his face. The other rested against his shoulder as you gripped the muscles you found there. 

You caressed his cheek and ran your fingers in his beard. 

“I love you,” you whispered. 

His eyes became bright with emotion, he had the prettiest eyes you’d ever seen- dark green with rings of brown that held unconditional love for you. 

He murmured your name and it sounded like a prayer of devotion as it fell from his plush lips. He pressed a tender kiss to your lips. 

He pulled back enough to press his forehead against yours. 

“I love you more than anything,” he replied. 

You felt perfectly incandescently happy, so wonderfully full of him, and despite both of your desires for this moment to never end, you also needed him to move inside you. 

“Please, Lo,” you breathed out. 

He knew exactly what you meant and he braced his forearms on either side of your head and pulled his hips back. Logan pulled back enough that only the tip of his cock remained inside you, before he sunk back in slowly. 

Your breaths mingled with his and it felt as if the two of you were on an island of your own- as if you were the only two people in the world. 

There was a feeling of connectedness, as if the puzzle pieces had all finally fallen into place, as your heartbeat sped and began to beat in time with his. 

“You feel so good, so big,” you breathed out as he continued his slow steady pace. Again, and again, and again he pushed himself inside you. 

He moaned and kissed you again, this time messy and more urgent. 

The string of fate that connected the two of you pulled taunt, became stronger as a result of your union, as you declared to one another your infinite commitment and love. 

You clenched down as he increased his pace. 

“That’s it, that’s my good girl, so fuckin’ tight,” he said, his lips moved against yours as he imprinted the praise into your mouth. 

There was a delicious feeling of fullness as you felt stretched and stuffed to the brim with his cock, as your heart threatened to burst at the care he showed you. Your hands ran across his arms and shoulders, around and down to his back where your nails dug into the sweat slicked muscles you found there. 

He grunted and again increased his pace. Your thighs tightened around his waist and you held onto him more securely as he pistoned his cock inside you. 

There was no better feeling than when he was inside you. His cock repeatedly hit that spot deep within that made you see stars and you felt that familiar burning inside you begin to grow. 

There was no possible way to be closer to him. His face was buried in your throat, his chest pressed against yours and every thrust brushed your sensitive nipples against the hair there, your puffy clit felt shockwaves of every thrust as his groin grinded against it, the slick of your arousal coated you both- there was no possible way to be closer to him, and yet somehow you needed more. 

“Daddy, please,” you gasped. 

“Mhm, is this what my pretty girl needs?” 

He shoved a hand between your bodies and began to press tight circles against your throbbing clit. 

“Yes!” You let out a high pitched whine as you threw your head back let out a low groan as you clenched down on his thick cock. 

The squelching sounds of your joining bodies should’ve made you embarrassed, but white hot pleasure eroded all your senses. 

“C’mon pretty baby, come for daddy and then I’ll fill you up, I’ll make you full of me, make sure everyone knows you’re mine with my ring on your finger and my baby in your stomach. S’that what you want? Huh? You want everyone to know you’re mine?” he growled in your ear. 

“God, y-yes, Logan- fuck,” you stuttered out. 

He continued to fuck into you with those long harsh thrusts, the pace quick and intense as his finger drew tight circles on your overstimulated clit. It balanced you on the line of pleasure and pain, but his words pushed you over the edge. 

You gasped loudly, “M’gonna come!”

He grabbed your face and said, “Look at me.” 

White hot pleasure exploded through you. Your eyes fluttered open and you stared deep into his intense gaze as you came on his cock. 

He groaned along with you as you clenched down on him. 

“Shit, that’s my good girl,” he said and kissed you sloppily. 

You keened at the praise, your head fuzzy with ecstacy. Your nails again dug into his back as he continued to pump himself inside you as he chased his own release. 

His breaths came harder as his sweat slicked skin slid against yours. His hand gripped your hip hard enough to bruise as his pace somehow increased. 

There was nothing you could do but take it. This-this was bliss, this was perfection. 

“Want you to fill me up, want you to come in me, please Lo,” you whined. 

He groaned and with one more deep thrust he pushed himself as far inside you as possible and came. He filled you up, with stuttered breaths and hips, he came until he had nothing else to give. 

You pulled your head back from his neck, where you had bit down- hard, and pressed a kiss to his lips. 

You could’ve sworn that the thread of fate, the connection between the two of you glowed in the aftermath. 

With a grunt, he flipped over onto his back as he held you tight, and kept you against him and pulled you on top of him as he kept his cock inside you. 

You rested your head against his chest. 

“Can we just stay like this for a while?” you asked. 

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head as his large hand ran up and down your back.  

“Of course, princess. Anything you want.” 

And so you did. After all, time was a minuscule thing when the entirety of a new future together stretched before you. 

[is-this-even-relatable]

Misfortune Teller

tldr: An older Danny, apprentice to Clockwork, does a lot of field work across dimensions, resetting the timeline, queuing future events, and who knows what else. Occasionally, he warns people about such upcoming possibilities, to set them on the right path. How, you might ask? Well in this case... as a wandering fortune teller.

Crack-fic (oh god, it's getting long and my logic brain won't let it remain as crack) where Danny becomes Clockwork's apprentice after getting his GED. Living his infinite afterlife to the fullest. Inspired by this tumblr post.

Working for Clockwork had been... interesting so far. At first, Danny got frustrated by how vague and cryptic Clockwork was. He'd just shunt Danny off to some ancient time with a few words, his own time medallion (Danny carried it everywhere with him now), and then pop back into the portal, leaving Danny with only the faintest idea of where to go.

Eventually, after enough time (ha!) spent around Clockwork, Danny figured out that it just basically meant that he had free reign and to do whatever he wanted. Because if he went on the wrong path, (like that one time in Pompeii when he had almost caused the volcano to explode a few years too early), Clockwork would just pop on by, say another few cryptic words, and then it'd all be fine and dandy, or as he liked to say, "All is as it should be... Now stop practicing your wail by an active volcano."

After telling Jazz about that (it was supposed to be funny, not concerning), she just sighed and shook her head, with a forlorn "think before you act, Danny!" but hey, it'd turned out fine so far, so who cares how he does what Clockwork asks him to do, as long as it gets done, right? Even if it's with a liiiiitle more mischief than strictly required.

Besides. Danny was the one who had been doing time shenanigans across millennia, not Jazz. And he thought he'd been getting pretty good at it too! He'd actually started giving himself a different made-up background for each universe he visited. Sam and Tucker were helping him keep up with the identities on a spreadsheet, so if he had to go back to one he'd already visited, he'd remember who he'd said he was supposed to be.

---

He was on a call with them one evening while haunting Jazz's apartment, doing just that, when he felt a familiar tingle in the back of his throat, as well as a heightened awareness of the seconds passing by, that always accompanied his mentor's appearance.

Sam was talking about his past stint posing as a god of death when he cut in. "Hey- sorry to interrupt, Sam- Clocky's here, guys, I gotta dip."

"Aw, come on! We hardly talked any this past week since you passed your certifications, man," Tucker complained.

Danny rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Yeah, yeah. Partly on you too though, you've been caught up outside of class, and Sam's schedule is nearly the opposite of yours."

Sam hummed in agreement despiter Tucker's scoff.

Danny missed hanging out with them as much as they had in high school, but hey, life goes on. Or at least, theirs did, to college. After finally flunking out of Casper High, he'd taken some time to get used to his responsibilities in the ghost zone, and when he had, he realized that he didn't really have much enthusiasm or timeleft for his human life.

And he didn't really want to go back home either.

But Jazz had made him tie up any loose ends before he noped-off to god knows where, which frankly, he had to thank her for. Getting his GED took a few years, but it was an accomplishment that could be attributed to Danny Fenton, no ghostliness required. Then he was able to let that tether go free.

Pulled out of his musings by a few more grumbles from Tucker, Danny said his goodbyes, promising to call the next time they were all available.

After hanging up, Danny swiveled around, anticipation already lighting up his eyes an ethereal green.

Clockwork, for his part, had been waiting patiently through Danny's lengthy goodbyes. Although he supposed that it tracked for the watcher of time to be patient. With his job, it'd be a nightmare if he wasn't.

"Phantom," Clockwork spoke, calm as always. "I have some tasks I need you to complete as my apprentice."

And Danny, always ready for adventure, didn't need him to explain any further. "Sure! When do you need me to be?"

Clockwork smiled at that. "I am fortunate you are eager. Follow me."

---

Danny popped into existence in this universe with a burst of cold air and static electricity. He found himself hovering by a clocktower above a sprawling, gothic city. Smog and light pollution obscured the stars above him, to his disappointment. He comforted himself with the fact that he'd probably have all the time he wanted to fly someplace less populated to see them later.

He started off by familiarizing himself with the city. As he flew, he followed the trail of power and met the resident city-spirit, a spooky- but kind underneath- woman draped in black lace, who told him her name was Gotham. He spoke in length with her about this universe, its heroes, and her knights. On that, she was very enthusiastic... or at least Danny thought she was, her projected emotions belaying much more than her gloomy exterior. She told him how her knights had been through a lot and would need some guidance fighting the darkness that pooled in her deepest corners, smiling with too much glee, filling lungs with fear, and terrorizing with cold hard bullets.

Danny could sense that the dangers she spoke of were growing in power, ever slowly. The longer they shadowed people's minds and hearts, an intangible thing grew that lent them more otherworldly pull than their physical forms had right to hold.

That must be what he was sent here for.

But... they were weak, pitifully so for him, infinite king as he was. And besides, he wasn't here in that sense. He was a messenger, a simple apprentice. And he could do this however he wanted.

Cue his talk with Lady Gotham, and subsequent idea to arm her knights. With what? Well, he figured knowledge would be a start. Flying high above the city invisibly, Danny noticed a sea of colors and lights by what appeared to be the city's pier. He flew down, noting that it appeared to be the setup spot for a travelling circus or carnival of some kind.

He considered what to do. One of Lady Gotham's troubles was a madman clown, right? Well maybe he'd be attracted to his ilk here... and with the danger came the knights. Maybe he could catch one of them here?

Danny was floating around at the entrance and beginning to formulate a plan when a flyer caught his eye. Looking for a mystic to read fortunes. URGENT!

Hadn't Clockwork said something about fortunes? And he hadn't made an identity in this universe yet...

A mischievous smile crept across Danny's face, splitting it in two with far too many teeth.

---

Half a city away, a man in all black, perched on the very same clocktower that Phantom had Appeared by, shivered as he felt an ominous premonition about his sanity in the near future...

Said man quickly opened his comms to check in with his many, many kids. Yet even after hearing back from each, he still felt apprehensive.

Somewhere even further, Clockwork laughed.

---

And that's how Danny found himself seated at a fortune teller's booth at a pier in Gotham, two days later, for the Tricksy Traveling Circus's grand opening.

[rosenclaws]

Hii, I saw you were taking requests and was wondering if you could maybe write like slow burn smut for Logan in X-men days of futures past? I was thinking a mutant! reader in their early-mid twenties who are inexperienced and very shy/quiet. They also have powers similar to Jean grey. One night Logan and the reader are left alone in the mansion and during an innocent game of drunk 21 questions, the reader accidentally gets a glimpse of what's on Logan's mind 👀

Sorry if that's too detailed, I had a dream like this recently and I can't stop thinking of it 😭 it's okay if you don't wanna :) tysm 💞

a/n: Hi! So I hope it's okay but I didn't make this a full on smut fic. I can do a part two if you really want but I ended up making this a little different. It's a little angstier and there's spice at the end but no full on smut. I hope it's enough!

warnings: fem!reader, spicy makeout, teasing, flirting, fluff, angst.

You couldn't stop staring. Just who the hell was this man? When you had opened the door you were met with the handsome stranger. Tight denim pants and that brown leather jacket. You couldn't even answer his question. Too busy staring him down. He smirked and took off his sunglasses, leaning against the door until your faces were inches apart.

"Like what you see sweetheart?" You could barely stutter out a response before Hank and pushed you to the side and took over. Telling you to go back to the lab. With a roll of your eyes you went away.

See you had been at the mansion for years now. It was your only hope and even with it being pretty much abandoned Charles and Hank let you stay. You honed your powers while helping out around the place. It wasn't until dinner time that you finally learned what the hell was going on. The mans name was Logan and he was here to save the world from a future where mutants are being hunted into extinction.

At first you laughed, thought he was full of shit but then you peered into his mind. Only for a moment and saw it. You weren't laughing after that. So now he's sitting in your kitchen drinking beer. You were watching him from the door. Was it creepy? Yes but you couldn't stop yourself.

"You can come out now sweets, I'm not gonna bite." He looks over at you and you hide behind the door. Embarrassment creeping over you as you shyly peek your head out. He was looking at you completely unamused.

"Sorry, I got curious." He smirks and pats the seat next to him. Quietly you join him. Tapping the counter as he sits there silently. He offers you a sip of his beer and you take it.

"Blech." You scrunch your nose up. You never liked beer so you don't know why you thought this time would be different. Logan laughs and takes another sip.

"So, what were you curious about?" You stare at the counter as answer him. You can't look at him, he's too intimidating.

"Everything. Did you really come here from the future?"

"You saw in my head didn't you?" Your eyes widen in surprise. You had no clue he knew about that. Normally people can't tell and you do try to stay out of peoples minds but you couldn't resist.

"I'm so sorry I-" You're cut off by Logan's chuckle.

"You say sorry too much sweets."

"Sorry." He raises an eyebrow and smiles fondly.

The way he looks at you is strange. He doesn't seem like the friendly type and you had just met him so why is he being so nice to you.

"Am I alive in your future?" Logan's face falls, just for a moment. He covers it back up with that handsome smirk but you saw it.

"Tell you what, you get me another beer and I'll answer any questions you have." He sets down the empty bottle and waits. You open the fridge with your powers and summon a bottle of beer. He goes to reach it but you pull back.

"Ah, you answer my question first." He rolls his eyes and makes another grab for it but you move it out of both your reaches.

"As stubborn as always." He shakes his head.

"You're alive." He keeps it short. Not wanting to explain that the last time he saw you he held on so tight he almost ripped your suit. Knowing you were going into battle to protect him, to make sure he could finish the mission. You slowly bring the bottle back and hand it to him.

"So what happened? Why did they send you back? How do you know me? What's your mutation?"

"Okay okay one at a time Jesus." He answers your first question without words. Popping out metal claws from hands to take off the bottle cap.

"Woah." You reach out to touch them but he sheathes them back in before you can.

"Sentinels. They were created by Trask and they can morph to defend themselves against any mutation. I'm here to prevent the events leading up to everything."

"Couldn't this really mess up the future though? Like what if things get worse?" You ask, trying to wrap your head around the idea of time travel. It's not like it's impossible, I mean you literally control things with your mind but it's certainly a confusing concept to grasp.

"It might. But it's the only shot we had." You badly want to see what's going on in his mind. What kind of future he comes from and just how bad it really is.

"You're not asking any questions."

"Why would I?" He snorts and you catch him sneak a glance at you.

"Are we friends? Because you look at me like you know me already." Logan stays quiet. He refuses to look at you as he downs the rest of his beer. There's so much he could say but maybe he should stay quiet.

"You could say that."

"I'm sorry." You reach out for his hand. He flinches away at first but he grabs your hand when you try to pull away. He missed your touch. He missed the life he had before the sentinels. He missed you.

"For what sweetheart?" "Just, it seems like there's always so much pressure on you." He shrugs.

You haven't changed one bit. Always a big heart and a kind smile. He squeezes your hand gently. His hands are rough and they're so strong. You can't help but stare at the veins in his hands that run up to his arms. He lets go of your hand and you frown slightly.

"Logan? What happens if you fail?" You ask hesitantly, not really sure you want the answer.

"Then we're all dead." An uncomfortable silence settles over the room. You don't even know what he has to do but you know the weight on his shoulders must be enormous.

"Look you shouldn't worry about this. Trust me when I say I'm going to do everything I can." Everything he can to save you. Save the world too but in his mind you're his number one priority. He stands up and sadly you realize it's gotten late.

"Show me to my room?" He holds out his hand and you take it. You know for a fact that Hank already told him where he was staying but who are you to say no to more time with Logan.

"You tired?" He asks as you arrive at his room. You shake your head and he holds the door open.

"Want to stay?" He sees the way your eyes widen and he chuckles.

"Not like that, unless you want to." The truth is he wants more time with you.

Selfish as it may be he needs you. Just to be around you, even if you don't really know him yet. Your presence always calmed him. You nervously sit on the edge of his bed, playing with the blankets as he sheds his jacket. He's dressed in a white tank top and pants. He sighs as he lays down in bed, back against the headboard as he lights a cigar. You don't even know where he got that from. After a few moments of silence you decide to ask the forbidden question.

"Can I see what it's like?" You know that you shouldn't. That looking into his mind could be a huge mistake but you need to know.

"It's not pretty in here sweetheart. You might find something you aren't ready to see." His breath hitches as you start to move up the bed. Crawling until you're kneeling right next to him. You place your fingers on his temples.

"Logan," You whisper, asking him for approval. He nods and you close your eyes.

You're met with chaos. It's like his brain is constantly at war. Horrible memories of the future. Destruction, death. His friends are dying, the world is falling apart. Then there's you. You look older and an overwhelming feeling of desperation washes over you. You see yourself from Logan's point of view. He's begging you not to go. To stay safe and be with him but you don't stay. You have to give him the best chance. You disappear into the fog and Logan watches.

"Sweetheart," You hear his voice coming from the real world but you can't pull away. Going deeper and deeper into his mind. All the violence, all the loss this poor man has been through. So much anger.

"That's enough!" Logan grabs your wrists and tries to pull you off him but not even his super strength is enough to match your powers when you're like this.

He can see you start to panic. You haven't learned to control your powers as much yet and he can't stop you. So he takes a deep breath and starts thinking of one thing. You. Slowly the violent memories turn into something else. His brain starts to quiet and so does yours.

Years of your life together with Logan. Every kiss, every flirty glance. The quiet moments. It's like you're watching him fall in love with you. You start to calm down but then his thoughts take another turn. It's still you and him but the scenes are more...intimate.

His hands on your body, caressing, kissing. Loud moans and images that would make a grown man blush. It's dirty. It's hot. Just how much sex can two people have. He has you pinned to the bed, to the wall, over the table. In the shower, in the car, outside. Your hips start to move subconsciously against the sheets. Logan finally gets your hands free. Your breathing heavily, eyes blown wide as you stare at the man before you.

"We're together."

"Yes."

"You love me."

"Yes I do, sweetheart."

"Oh my god you've seen me naked." You gasp as you cover yourself with your hands. Logan laughs as he gently takes your hands away.

"If it helps you'll see me naked too. A lot." Your eyes glance down to his crotch briefly. From what you saw. It's big.

"This is really weird." You mumble as you sink down into the bed.

A concerned look washes over his face. He loves teasing you but never to the point of making you uncomfortable. He grabs your chin and tilts your head up.

"Hey, I'm not gonna hurt you sweetheart. If you want to go you're free to go." He loves you with all his heart and he knows that he's entered your life earlier than expected. So he's okay if you're not ready to know him yet. Because eventually you'll find each other again.

"It's not that. I promise. It's just. A lot." You explain. You watch the man in front of you. You saw your future together and you want it now. As selfish as that sounds you want it now.

"Can I kiss you?" You ask shyly. This man has seen you naked and taken you in every room in the mansion and yet you still nervous to ask for a kiss.

"Course you can." You cup his face, the scratchy feeling of his beard making you laugh.

Slowly you kiss him. He already knows just how you like it. Nipping your bottom lip to get access to your tongue. He slowly lays you down into the bed. Crawling over you as he deepens the kiss. You taste just as sweet as you always do.

"Logan," You moan as he places his knee in between your legs. Your hands slip under his white tank top. Groaning as you feel his chiseled abs. Fuck he's just perfect isn't he.

"Take it off." You beg as you tug his shirt. He smirks as he sits back on his knees and rips his shirt apart.

"A little dramatic don't you think." You say as he throws the scraps to the side.

"You like it." He growls. His hands coming to lift your shirt above your head.

"I can smell it on you babe. I can hear her calling my name." He bites your neck roughly as he grinds his hips against yours.

"Want me to show you a sneak peak of the future sweetheart?" He purrs as he toys with the hem of your pants. You run your hands over his bare chest. It's insane how hot he is. His eyes swirl with lust and love. A gentle care in the way he promises to ravage you. You look up at him, hands gripping onto his strong arms.

"Show me. Show me everything."

[absurdthirst]

Online Love {Javier Peña x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 18.3k

Warnings: Online dating, feelings of inadequacy, anger, upset, mentions of past bullying, Javi having restraint, oral sex (male and female receiving), tiny bit of body worship, unprotected sex, vaginal sex

Comments: Coming home after Cali, Javi finds that his dad has moved into modern times. There's a computer in the house. Unsatisfied with his reputation proceeding him, he decides to go online to find out if he can be the man he wants to be. Except the one he connects with, you, has a very complicated past together.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Javier Peña MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

The last thing that Javi expected to find at the Peña ranch upon his return, was a computer. He wasn’t even sure that his father had known what one was, let alone how to turn one on. But there it was. A great hulking machine that is set up in the dining room, taking up half the damn table. He had frowned at his pop, hands on his hips as he asked him what the hell he did with the damn thing. “Talk to people.” Chucho laughs at his son’s confused ire and slaps him on the back. “I got that dial up package added to the phone line. Even my accountant told me I needed one.” 

Javier avoids the computer for weeks, eying it like it's going to turn on and take over the world. At least, that's what every Sci-Fi movie is about lately. He watches his pa try to cook scrambled eggs and snorts at the curses coming from his father's mouth while he flips through the paper. ‘Free Online Dating Membership. Join Match.com today!’ The ad in the corner catches his eye and he snorts again, wondering who the hell goes on the internet to find a date. He can go to any bar and pick up a woman. Well, he can get a one night stand. Every woman within fifty miles knows about the infamous Javier Peña and his reputation precedes him. The doorbell rings and Javier huffs, folding the paper to get the door. "I got it, pa." He tells his father who is still cursing the now burnt scrambled eggs. 

"Oh, uh, hi. Javier." You clear your throat and Javier's eyes widen. He says your name and you are surprised he remembers you. "I have papers for Chucho." You hold up the folder and Javier steps aside. You walk into the kitchen to find Chucho rinsing out a frying pan, the smell of burnt eggs in the air, and you smile at the older Peña. "Just dropping off the quarterly report." You set the folder down.

“You’re his accountant?” Javi asks, following you into the kitchen and he can’t help that his eyes have fallen down to your ass as you walk in front of him. It is a habit when he is around a beautiful woman and you have become that. No longer the awkward and gangly girl he had remembered before he had left for Columbia, you have matured into a graceful woman. It isn’t quite fair because you weren’t too much younger than him. 

“Yes.” You turn and give him a confused smile and tilt your head in curiosity at what he was meaning. You had always been good at math, enjoying numbers more than socializing. 

“So that-” he points to the computer in the dining room, “is your fault?” 

You chuckle a little, "don't you want to join us in the 20th century, Javier? It's nearly the 21st. A computer is the future." You take a step closer to Javier, lowering your voice, "besides, your dad can join forums. Speak to other ranchers. Other widows. There's a whole world out there and that computer brings it to him." You had noticed how lonely Chucho was and he is far too proud to say anything so you suggested the computer.

“What’s wrong with the annual rancher’s association meetings?” Javi snorts, rolling his eyes at the idea of his father courting widows through a computer. His mother was the love of his life, and he had honestly never even suggested moving on. He was still wearing his wedding ring that his mother placed on his finger nearly fifty years ago. “Going to town to the tack and feed store? Meeting people in person?” 

You shake your head, "your dad is a proud man. He's loyal to your mother, even after all these years. You can't be honest about how you feel with people you've known for years. On the computer, you can be anonymous, you can tell someone how you truly feel without seeing the judgment on their face. You can be who you really are when you're behind a screen." You confess, knowing you have your own experience with that anonymity. "You wouldn't understand it. You've never had a problem with saying what you think."

That’s not true, and Javi opens his mouth to tell you that, but he stops. You said that one could be the person they wanted to be. Who they really are. Javi glances back at the computer again, contemplating that in a different light. Everyone knew Javier Peña, by his reputation, by the stories that had been written while he was in Colombia. They judged him, or treated him how they expected him to act. Every woman he had met recently just wanted to ‘see if the rumors were true’. He hadn’t taken many of them home. Looking back at you, he shrugs slightly, as if it’s not anything to him. “They are a pain in the ass when they act up.” He grunts. 

You chuckle, pointing to the big book on the dining room table next to the computer. "Good thing you have the instruction manual." You quip and walk back over to Chucho who thanks you for bringing the report. "We need to work on the W2's next month." You tell Chucho who nods, "thanks, chiquita." He winks at you and grabs the egg carton. "Any chance you can cook scrambled eggs?" He asks and you giggle, "I would show you but I have to go meet Maria to explain why her new RV is not a tax write off." You chuckle and Chucho winks at you, "luego." You turn to look at Javier, "see you around, Peña." You show yourself out, exhaling deeply as you recognize that you couldn't avoid Javier forever.

Over the next few days, Javi eyes the computer. Debating with himself as he smokes out on the front porch. His dad still won’t allow smoking in the house even though his mother’s oxygen tanks were long gone. Looking at the outline of the large monitor through the screen door and contemplating your comment. He could be someone other than Javier Peña, manwhore or DEA disgrace. He wouldn’t be grumpy or sarcastic, not unless he wanted to appear that way. The person he could be online wouldn’t be burdened with the sorrows and mistakes that seemingly weigh him down. He blows out a breath and crushes out the butt before he yanks the door open and steps back into the house. His father is out for a few hours and he can at least turn it on to see what all the fuss is about. 

You bite your lip as you log onto the website. You never imagined you'd join an online dating website. You had seen the video tapes from dating agencies and you never allowed yourself to get so lonely that you resorted to that but the internet brought a new option. You like that there's no photos. Only an initial and a location. It's anonymous and you chat, then decide if you like each other. Sure, you've had some bad matches in person. Some not at all like they described themselves, some total assholes. You keep trying though. You want to find your person.

“Goddamnit.” Javi scowls at the computer and bangs the enter button several times. “Why won’t you do it?” He hisses, seeing the little arrow over the area he wants to go, but it’s not doing anything. “Fuck.” He rolls his eyes at himself and grabs the stupid thing called a mouse. Why it was a mouse, he will never know, but he clicks buttons until the page starts to load, leaning back with an annoyed sigh while he waits.

You have a sip of wine as you wait for the website to load. You sigh, watching the screen flicker as the website is displayed pixel by pixel. When it's loaded, you type in your email address and password. Grabbing the mouse, you click the 'log in' button and lean back, waiting again for the website to load.

It’s been nothing but a pain in the ass to set up this page. Debating on what to put, he had gotten annoyed at himself several times and almost walked away. Now he’s ready to browse available women, but knowing his luck, there won’t be anyone for hundreds of miles.

You set your wine glass down, surprised to see there's a new person online. "J" is the name and his tagline says "here to be myself." That intrigues you. You bite your lip, contemplating clicking on the profile until you select it and wait for it to load. "Name is J. Looking to be myself, find someone to talk to who wants to get to know who I truly am. Texas born and raised. Work in law enforcement so not a creep." You chuckle at the bio and decide to click on the 'chat now' button. You take another gulp of wine and select his profile, typing out a simple "hi".

A box pops up with a loud ding, making Javi sit up. Someone is messaging him already. He tries to suppress the surge of pleasure in his stomach as he remembers to click the line so he can peck at the keyboard. “Hi.” He hits enter and then frowns slightly because it seems so impersonal. “How are you?” He notices the initial and adds that before sending the next message. Frowning as he waits for a response.

You are surprised he responded so fast and your stomach clenches with nerves as you type out “I’m good. Just having a glass of wine. How are you?” You type, glad for those hours you spent on typewriters back when you were a teenager trying to write a novel. It sucked but your typing skills are excellent.

“Well shit.” Javier huffs, slightly amazed at the speed of the reply. He’s used a computer, he had to in those final years with the DEA. Hated it, preferred the typewriter, but he had never really talked to someone online like this before. “What do I say now?” He asks himself, wishing he could light up a cigarette. Hunching over the keyboard, he begins a two finger pecked response. “Wine sounds good right about now, although a glass of whiskey and a cigarette is more my speed.”

You have another sip of wine, waiting for his response. It takes a while and you wonder if he’s walked away from the computer but it soon pings through the speakers and you read his reply. A chuckle escapes your lips, “typical man.” You snort to yourself and reply quickly, hitting enter to send the message. “I don’t smoke. Never have. I don’t care if someone does smoke. So what brings you to this website?” You chew on the skin of your thumb as you wait for his response. It’s nice to talk to someone different. Someone you haven’t known your whole life growing up in Laredo.

Javi feels slightly guilty about smoking as he reads your reply. He will have to air the house out before his pa gets home. Wondering why he’s actually here. “Want someone to get to know me and not what they think they know about me.” Javi types out slowly. “Like I’m trying to quit smoking again, and everyone tells me that I shouldn’t try.”

Your heart clenches at his honest reply. You glance over at the photo of you and your parents when you were younger, remembering how you’d get made fun of for being too geeky. For liking numbers instead of boys. “If you want to quit smoking, you should try. Do it for you. Not anyone else.” You hit send, and then type out “everyone tells me I need to get laid but I don’t want meaningless sex. I want a real relationship. Someone I can talk to and be real myself with.” You hit send before you can think too hard about your reply.

Javi snorts to himself. “Meaningless sex doesn’t help.” He types out. “Not in the long run. I know. Sometimes it just makes you feel worse.” He’s had plenty of time for self reflection and regret. “So who is the real you?”

You sigh and type out “I guess that’s what I’m wanting to figure out. I have been so sensible my entire life. I want to let loose a little. Enjoy life. I struggle to trust anyone and it’s led to me to isolating. Hence why I’m on here.” You hit send and take another gulp of wine, feeling vulnerable.

Javi understands that. “People always call me an asshole, not understanding that I’ve seen shit that would make grown men cry. They wouldn’t believe me if I told them I’ve cried.” He tells you and continues the message. “Letting loose sounds like something I need to do too.”

“Were you in the armed forces?” You type out and he replies, “something like that.” You hum, typing again, “well at least you know yourself. You should be able to cry. Doesn’t make you any less of a man because you cry. As for letting loose, maybe we could help each other out with that.” You hit send and take another sip of wine, glancing over at the clock. It’s getting late.

“We could do that.” Javi hums to himself as he starts to type out his response. “What’s your idea of fun?” He asks. “Or the theory of fun.” His idea of fun is so far removed he doesn’t remember anymore. “I like watching movies.”

“Watching movies is good. I love bowling. I haven’t been since I was a kid.” You confess when you type, “or just a day out in the sun. I work so much. It’s hard to relax. I want to succeed. Stand on my own two feet.” You hit send and exhale, realizing how long you’ve been holding this inside of you.

“Do you like the beach?” Javi asks in return, smirking to himself about going to the bowling alley a few towns over. “Or more of a swimming pool kind of girl? You are a girl, right?”

You giggle, imagining J furrowing his brow. “I’m a girl. It says so in the bio.” You hit enter and continue typing, “you’re a boy?” You ask him to confirm and he responds, “yes.” It said so in his bio but you can’t trust anything on the internet. “I love the beach. And the swimming pool. Pool is better for sex. The beach…sand gets in places you don’t want to imagine.” You shudder, remembering when you went to the beach with your first boyfriend and got sand in too many crevices.

Javi’s brows shoot up when you admit that. He chuckles to himself and decides to be completely honest. “Never had sex in a pool or at the beach.” He types. “Fucked in a swimming hole, does that count?” He asks, remembering the time him and Lorraine went down to the local swimming hangout.

You giggle, typing back, “it kinda does. So, what is the true J? A man of mystery. Perhaps you’re a spy and that’s why you haven’t let anyone close to you.” You smirk as you hit send.

Javi chuckles as he reads that and shakes his head like he is in the room with the other person. “Hardly. No one could ever accuse me of being Bond. I don’t have the patience for it.” He pauses, considering your question. “I’m secretly a romantic. Wishing that I had someone to share a future with. I want to love someone, have them love me. I want laughter and fun, quiet nights reading books, early morning cups of coffee with someone.”

You smile softly at the way he says he wants romance. You want the same thing. You want someone to be happy with, to make happy. You quickly type back “that’s exactly what I want. A partner. I want someone to laugh with, to share my day with.” You hit send before you can think too hard about it.

Smiling as he reads the message, he feels like someone is listening to him for the first time. Really listening to him. He licks his lips and feels like he’s crazy for feeling connected through a computer screen. “Until you find that partner, maybe we can share our days?” He offers, biting his lip and wishing he could unsend it just as soon as it’s posted.

“Absolutely.” You type back and hit send before you think twice. You have a good feel for J and you want to get to know him more, be that person he can talk to. It’s nice to have someone want to talk to you that doesn’t even know what you look like. You yawn, the wine and the long day getting to you, and you type out “I’m exhausted. Long day today. Chat tomorrow?”

Javi looks at the clock and is surprised by how long he’s spent online. Soon, his father will be back. “Sounds good. Sweet dreams.” He types out, sending it and wondering if whoever the other person is will sleep soundly or toss and turn like he normally does. He hopes that it’s the former.

You log off, getting ready for bed and you fall asleep to dreams of a partner who loves you and makes you happy and you make them happy. 

****

The entire day you spend thinking about logging back onto the website. You try to concentrate on the numbers in front of you but it’s almost impossible to calculate when you think about what J might look like. His bio said brown eyes and brown hair. You wonder if he’s tall or short. You don’t care, you like talking to him. When you arrive home, you eat dinner and disconnect your phone so you can connect to the internet. The shrill tone of the dial up is a familiar sound to you but still makes you wince until you can log back on the website, tapping your fingers as you wait for any sign that J is online.

“Pa! Don’t pick up the phone, I’m going to be online!” Javi calls out from the dining room to the living room where his dad is laid back in the recliner in front of a soccer game. “I thought it was stupid?” The rough laugh of the older man feels like teasing but Javi rolls his eyes and huffs slightly. His reading glasses perched on the end of his nose as he had a headache from staring at the screen last night. “Just don’t pick up the phone!” He demands again and starts to connect the computer so he can see how his online friend is doing this evening.

You smile when the speakers chirp with a new message alert. “Hi. How was your day?” He asks and you type out a quick response. “Long. Boring. But it’s looking up right now. How was your day?” You respond, wondering if he had a good day or if he found it as laborious as you did.

Javi has been looking forward  to this all day, if he’s honest with himself. It was what had gotten him through another day of repairing fences and trying to fix everything on the ranch that his pop hadn’t been able to get to. “Seemed like it would never end.” He grins to himself when he thinks that you might have been looking forward to talking to him. “But I’m settled down with a beer, how about you? Got a glass of wine?”

You smile at his response, quickly typing “of course. Cheers, J.” You hit send and type another message. “I was thinking about you today. Wondered what kind of movies you like. What kind of music you like.” You know these questions are juvenile but you like chatting to him and getting to know him without any pressure.

Javi hums to himself. Intrigued that his mystery friend was thinking of him. He taps his chin, wishing for a cigarette, but he had put on a patch this morning, and starts to list them out. “Grew up watching westerns, but I think I like dramas.” He types out. “Action is alright, but they always depict shit wrong. Shooing a car’s gas tanks isn’t going to make it blow up.” He goes on. “Music, I’m still an easy listening, 70’s kind of guy. What about you? What’s your taste in movies and music?”

You snort at his answer about action not being accurate. You type back, “I love dramas. And romance. Westerns…my dad used to watch them so I’ve seen almost every western out there. John Wayne was a big hit in my house growing up. As for music, 70s, 80s. I’m not sure about the 90s. Music is changing. I miss the ballads and classic rock.” You hit send and take a sip of wine, the dial up crackling in the background.

Javi snorts and shrugs slightly, like he’s talking to someone in person. “80s music is a little too peppy for me.” He admits with a grin as he types it out. “Power ballads are amazing.”

You nod as if he’s in the damn room with you and you fluster as you catch yourself. “I can’t imagine you as a Huey Lewis listener.” You type out and he types back, “how do you imagine me?” You bite your lip, “well, your bio says you have brown eyes and brown hair. So I’m guessing your eyes are a little jaded from shit you’ve gone through but also soulful, like the key to your emotions is in your eyes. Most men are guarded but their eyes tell their story.” You hit send, hoping he doesn’t think you’ve overstepped.

Suddenly, he feels like this person is in the room with him and has stripped him naked. Not of his clothes, but of his armor. “I rarely look in the mirror. Except when I’m shaving.” He admits. “But my momma used to say she could tell everything I was feeling through my eyes.”

Your heart aches for the man, clearly he’s been beaten up by life and you want to hold him, tell him it’s all okay. You type back, “wise woman your momma. I understand how you feel. I’m not haunted by demons but I was bullied as a kid until I left school. Too nerdy, not pretty enough. Not thin enough. It still affects me to this day.” You hit send and take a large gulp of wine.

Javi frowns when he sees your words and hates how that could be possible when you are a sweet person. “Size doesn’t matter. Every body type is beautiful in some way.” He types out. “I love women of all shapes and sizes. Pretty only lasts as long as age. It’s the soul that makes a person beautiful.”

His words melt your heart, a man who doesn't just want the pretty Playboy bunny girl to fuck. He seems genuine, unlike most men you meet. "Exactly. That's how I feel. You are attracted to their aura, their personality...looks are a bonus." You hit send and smile into your wine glass, wondering if you should suggest meeting up. His bio shows that he is within 20 miles of you.

“Exactly.” Javi types back immediately. “I want someone who will build a future with me, but also be willing to jump into the truck with a cooler of sodas, a full tank of gas, a map and no destination in mind.” He had imagined taking a road trip once, with Lorraine and she had immediately vetoed it. It might be one of the things that caused him to start rethinking their upcoming marriage so many years ago.

Your stomach twists at how perfect he seems, how he seems to completely understand you. "Well, if you ever need a road trip buddy. I'm your gal.” You type back, a grin on your face and you know you look ridiculous. His chat goes offline after that and you frown, confused and wondering if you did something to upset him. 

"Pa! Get off the phone!" Javi yells at his father who picked up the landline, forgetting that Javi is online. "Sorry mijo. I forgot." He admits, slamming the phone down.

“Damnit.” Javi hisses, hoping that you weren’t insulted by his internet dropping out. He listens to the modem dialing and it seems like it’s taking forever. “Hurry up, hurry up!” He growls, his stomach flipping unpleasantly at the idea of you thinking that he’s just done with the conversation. It takes forever in his mind, even if it’s just a few minutes and he’s relieved when the chat reconnects. “Fuck, I’m sorry. My dad picked up the phone.” He types out quickly.

You’re surprised that he lives with his dad but you can’t judge, you lived with your parents until you finished university. His bio says he’s over 40. “It’s fine! Shit happens.” You hit send and giggle slightly, wondering if he was frustrated that the connection dropped. “Thought you didn’t want a road trip buddy.” You tease, watching the message go through for a few seconds until it says delivered.

“Get me out of here!” Javi types back quickly, chuckling to himself. “I never thought living with my dad again would be so frustrating.” He admits. “I moved back to help him and it doesn’t make sense to live somewhere else. He’s stubborn and doesn’t want to admit he’s getting older.”

You like that he is living with his dad to help him. You like that he seems to be a family man. “One day you’ll miss him when he’s gone.” You type, hitting send. “Do you want kids? Marriage?” You ask, curious if he’s interested in that.

Javi frowns as he contemplates that question. It had been one that Lorraine had sort of asked him, in a way, when she asked him if he had imagined their life together. He had. He would have never had kids while he was DEA, but he’s done with that part of his life now. He could have that if he wanted, so does he? He flexes his fingers and starts to type. “Never really thought it was going to happen for me.” He replies. “But I could see it. Now. Had a dangerous job for a long time and I wouldn’t have ever thought about it then. But yeah, I would want that. You?”

You ponder his answer, appreciating his honesty and you aren’t rushing him down the aisle but you like to know if you’re on the same page because you like him. You type back “I want kids someday. If it happens. I’m a big believer that things that are meant to be, happen.”

Javi leans back, running a hand through his hair as he thinks about that. There’s been plenty of times he probably should have become a father, by accident, but it had never happened. He had made sure not to leave any kids behind for the mothers to take care of while he had moved on. He notices that your profile says you are in your 30s. So there’s still time. “One? Two?” He types out. “Boy? Girl? Both?”

You are surprised he’s not running a mile at this conversation. Most men would. “Two. One of each ideally but I’d take healthy babies any day.” You hover to hit send before you add, “what about you? Any ideas on kids?” You hit send and rub your cheek, hating how much you like this guy. Someone whose name you don’t even know. You have no photo, no additional information.

Javi never really thought about it before, not sure if it would matter. He shrugs slightly. “Happy, healthy, safe.” He replies. “Not sure if you really have any options. You’re gonna get what you get. Least that’s how I look at it.”

You chuckle, replying back, “very true. Healthy. Happy. Safe. That’s what everyone wants.” You like that he didn’t say “boy” like every other man would. You chat for another hour, turning the conversation to the best movies of all time until you look at the clock. “I could spend all night talking but I have to get up earlier to get to work. Goodnight J.” You hit send, deciding to wait for his response before you log off.

****

Javi is happy that he installed a second line to the house for the internet. Now he doesn’t have to worry about his pa picking up the phone and kicking him offline. He’s been talking to the woman online for weeks, deciding to call her ‘sweetheart’ instead of just by her initial. It’s funny, because he’s received messages from other women, but he isn’t even interested in responding. Despite his playboy ways before, he had no desire in getting to know anyone else. Grinning as your chat pops up, his typing improves, he quickly greets you. “Hey sweetheart, how was your day? That client’s son still being an asshole?”

You scoff to yourself as you type, “hey handsome. Yeah, he is. God, he thinks he knows better and he’s always been that way. He was best friends with my brother when we were growing up and he was a dick back then.” You hit send, glad you can vent about Javier Peña. He questioned the amount of write offs his dad was submitting with his quarterly filing.

“Just ignore him, he’s probably unhappy.” Lord knows he’s fully aware some people are just unhappy with being questioned. He had tangled with his dad’s accountant again today, frustrated because he knew that the assholes he used to work with wouldn’t stoop to hit his dad to get back at him. Of course, Miss Priss had looked like she was sucking a lemon talking to him about everything. Like he was just trying to make her job harder. He didn’t want his dad to get audited. “Wine or something stronger tonight?” He asks.

“Stronger. Whiskey.” You confess, “he really annoyed me. He thinks he knows best and I wish you could go head to head with him. I think you’d come out on top.” You hit send and take a sip of whiskey. You sigh, rubbing your eyes as you look down at your nails, you really need to get a manicure soon.

Javi chuckles to himself, grinning at the screen and feeling oddly proud to have the confidence of his sweetheart. “I’ll talk to him, see if I can’t get him to back off.” He volunteers. “Can’t let someone upset my sweetheart.”

Your heart flutters in your chest at the way he calls you his sweetheart. You have talked every night for weeks. You know that he struggles with the things he’s seen. “You’re too sweet, handsome. He wouldn’t know how to handle you.” You giggle as you hit send and take another sip of whiskey, feeling brave. “I know we have been talking for a few weeks. Would you like to meet up?” You hit the backspace, changing your wording, “would you like to meet me sometime?” You hit send and exhale shakily, nervous of his response.

Swallowing harshly, Javi’s eyes must run over your worse half a dozen times before he can grasp that you want to meet him. He types “Yes” before he thinks about it and changes it to “Yes, absolutely.” He doesn’t know when you want to meet but as soon as he sends it, he’s immediately typing again. “You said you haven’t been bowling in forever. Why don’t we do that?”

You are shocked that he remembered what you said from one of your first conversations together online. You immediately type back, “yes, absolutely! I would love that. Are you free on Friday? 7 pm?” You hit send before you think twice about it and you feel giddy at the thought of finally meeting the mystery man you’ve been talking to for weeks on the computer. Hope that you can meet his expectations of you and that he is some kind of creep. Normally you would never meet someone off of the Internet without knowing their full name but you do like the aspect of mystery of him and also you trust him. As insane as that sounds, you trust your mystery man.

Javi hasn’t grinned so widely since he was a teenager, feeling his stomach flutter and twist in pleasure. He types out the name of the bowling alley that is in the next town over, he’s heard that one is better. “Is that one close enough for you? I’ve heard there aren’t as many bowling leagues there, taking up all the lanes. We can bowl and have a few drinks, nothing too fancy.” He sends that and then chuckles. “I’ll even get some nachos and hamburgers.”

Your face hurts from grinning and you type back, “you are spoiling me, handsome. That works for me. I’ll see you there on Friday at 7pm. I’ll wear red lipstick so you know it’s me.” You hit send, reaching up to touch your lips. J had said he loves when a woman wears red lipstick.

Javi can’t even stop nodding at the computer screen. It’s a dumb habit, but he always feels like he is talking to his sweetheart face to face instead of through a screen. “I’ll get there early to make sure we’ve got a lane.” He promises. “I’ll be in a red shirt to match your lips.”

****

Friday comes around and you are nervous all day. Exhaling shakily, you check your red lipstick in the mirror of your car before you lock it up and head into the bowling alley. You’re here to meet J and you are nervous as shit. What if he doesn’t like how you look? What if you don’t live up to expectations? You enter the bowling alley and glance around, not seeing a red shirt so you make your way over to the front desk, hovering as you wait for your mystery man.

He’s got the lane and for some damn reason, Javi had decided to have too much coffee. Now paying for it with having to piss right as he sat down to wait. Trying to hurry as he washes his hands and rushes out of the bathroom. Scanning the people eagerly for the sight of red lips. His sweetheart will be early, he can tell from getting to know her over the past few weeks.

You glance around and see the one and only Javier Peña come out of the bathroom. You huff, "fancy seeing you here, Peña. Did not take you as the type for bowling." Your eyes drift down to his red shirt and your eyes widen, "J?" You choke, realizing he's the only person wearing a red shirt. This has to be a joke. Surely your online companion isn't here yet.

Javi’s eyes widen and he glances down at your lips. “Sweetheart?” He frowns slightly and wonders if this is some kind of sick joke. You hate him, think that you’re better than him because you deal with numbers all day. He could tell you things about numbers that would have your stomach churning. “What are you-“ he can’t even finish the question.

Your eyes widen at the nickname until you shake your head and let out a sarcastic laugh, "is this some kind of joke? Someone hiding with a camera? Did you - did you set up an account to mess with me? Manwhore Peña making out like he wanted something real? Please, you gotta be dreaming. I - oh God. You did this to mess with me. Well, fuck you handsome." You spit the nickname that once held affection for you and you spin on your heel, making your way out of the bowling alley, cheeks burning with mortification and tears stinging in your eyes.

Embarrassed at the people who are staring, Javi rushes out of the bowling alley, abandoning the lane he had already paid for. Spotting you as you hurry to your car, he admires the dress you are wearing even as he calls your name, breaking out into a jog to catch you. “Will you stop, goddamnit?”

You spin as you fumble to unlock your car. Your hands shake as you try to get the key in the lock. "What?" You hiss, knowing that you'll be a funny story he tells his friends tomorrow. The way it's always been. Javier used to make fun of you when you were in high school, your brother his best friend. Hell, your brother was supposed to be his best man until the wedding never happened.

He’s breathing harder as he comes to a stop in front of you, not panting but almost there. “Don’t- don’t leave.” He tells you, not reaching out but the anger on your face cuts deep. You loathe him, but there had to have been something you liked when you were talking to him online. “Look, if you’re - you go in and bowl.” He offers, holding out the slip to claim the shoes from the counter. “I paid for two games, there’s a pitcher of beer and nachos that should already be waiting.” He explains. “I’ll leave, okay?” His eyes slide away from yours, unable to continue staring at you when you despise him so much.

You shake your head, your heart clenching. You really thought you had something special with J. You don’t take the slip from his hand, your eyes stinging with unused tears. “I’ll go. You go bowl, enjoy the beer.” You spit and growl as you try to open your door, managing to yank it open after a while. “I don’t want to be the butt of your jokes ever again.” You hiss as you get into your car and slam the door, turning on the engine.

Javi frowns as you throw your car into gear and pull out of the parking spot, swallowing harshly. His jokes? Yeah, he teased you when you were both younger, but you still take that to heart? He steps back and shoves the claim ticket into his pocket, turning to walk to his truck. The date is ruined and he feels like shit even though he doesn’t know why.

You make it home and when you enter your apartment, you start to sob. Embarrassed that your entire online relationship has been a big joke. You know Javier is probably laughing about leading you on. You collapse on the sofa, burying your face in your hands, and you spend the first night in a long time not on the computer.

Javi comes into a dark house, his pop already in bed and he sits down in front of the computer. Staring at the dark screen and wishing he had never agreed to meet. Now that he knows that it’s you, he doesn’t regret that he created the profile, but he hates the image of your distraught face. Sighing, he turns the computer on, deciding to send you one last message.

You sniff as you log onto your computer after dialing up, wanting to send an email to your mom to vent about what happened when your email pops up with “message from ‘J’ waiting.” You huff and log into the website. You open the message and rub your cheek, hating that the mascara you so excitedly put on is now smudged all over your face.

“Sweetheart….I want to apologize for ruining your night, and your life it seems. I’m sorry that the night was ruined and I wasn’t the man you had been looking for. Your dress was very pretty. I want you to know that I’ve enjoyed getting to know you over the past few weeks and you are wonderful. I hope that you don’t give up looking for that special person that you can explore and share with. Javier.” The message is simple and straightforward, but Javi worries that he might have overstepped by contacting you again at all.

You read his message a few times. Your heart pounding in your chest and you bite your lip as you ponder what to say to him. You thought about what happened during your drive home. You try to reconcile the Javier you know in the daylight to the man you’ve been speaking to for weeks. You clear your throat and type your response, “Javier. I didn’t know it was you when I was messaging you. I guess I was shocked because you used to make fun of me when we were teenagers. You joining my brother to make fun of his geeky sister. I thought you weren’t interested in anything but sex - I heard the rumors about you in Colombia. I can’t figure out how the man who fucked his way through Texas is the same man who told me he wanted romance. All I can think is that this is a big joke at my expense.” You sniff, hating that your eyes sting again. “I really like J and if you are that man, not the man who rolls his eyes when I point out some issues with his  dad’s receipts, then I would like to try again. Talk in person.” You hit send before you can regret it.

Javi reads your message and it hurts. The magic of talking to you is now gone and he feels a heavy weight of guilt settling back down on his shoulders and he wishes he had a fucking cigarette. He sighs and starts to type. “Yeah, I made fun of you with your brother when we were teenagers. I was an asshole and it was wrong. I’m sorry.” He doesn’t address the manwhore comments, and decides to address the issue with his father. “I will stay out of your business.” He continues on. “I used to work with men who would dig and have others dig until they had leverage on you. I was just trying to make sure my pop didn’t suffer from me pissing them off.” He sighs and rolls his head around before continuing on. “For what it’s worth, I really was looking forward to that bowling date.”

You read his message, leaning back against your chair, and you swallow down the guilt that swirls in your stomach. Maybe you jumped to judging Javier. He was an asshole, but the guy who has been messaging you for three weeks has made your heart flutter. You bite your lip and type back, “I was really looking forward to it too. I’m sorry I'm defensive. I guess I have a complex from high school. Never being the girl that got asked to the dance and it’s given me some issues. I would never let your dad be dragged into something. I want to make sure he’s protected and doing things above board. Maybe we could try again? I really like J. I’m sure I’d like Javier if I gave him an actual chance.” You hit send and sigh, knowing that you have to accept what he says when he responds.

Javi sighs softly, aware this could be some kind of payback, but he doesn’t think so. “I guess it’s too late tonight.” He would go out, but you might not be able to do it tonight. “How about this? I’m free tomorrow night. If you want to do something, we absolutely can.”

You smile softly, typing out your reply. “Miguel’s? Tomorrow at 8?” You hit send and you know that this could be a massive mistake but you want to try. The man you’ve gotten to know has to be inside of the asshole you grew up with.

The bar in town is much more his speed and Javi quickly types out an agreement. “That sounds good. I’ll see you then.” He bites his lip. “Have a glass of wine and soak in a bath, sweetheart, you deserve it.”

You reread his words a few times, loving and hating the smile on your face. You log off the computer and follow his advice, soaking in the bath with a glass of wine. 

****

You glance up at the shitty sign that Miguel’s has had since your papa used to come here and drink after work sometimes. You brush down your dress, walking into the bar and classic rock is playing as you look around for Javi. He’s sitting at the bar, glass of whiskey in front of him, and his eyes widen when he sees you. You walk over to him, a little unsure. “Hi. I guess we should reintroduce ourselves after yesterday.” You tell him, wanting him to know that this is you trying again.

Javi smirks slightly and nods, noticing that you are wearing that red lipstick again. “Red lips.” He hums, wanting to reach out and see if they are as soft as they look. “Guess that makes you sweetheart?” He asks, standing up and pulling out the barstool beside him for you to sit down. “Javier.”

You sit down on the stool beside him, “handsome.” You murmur, taking in the sight of him in a red shirt and you like how he’s trimmed his mustache. He offers you a smile and the bartender comes over. You order a glass of wine and you turn your gaze back to Javier. “I’m sorry I ran off yesterday. I was - it was a shock to see you standing there.” You confess, thanking the bartender when he sets your drink down.

“I could tell.” He doesn’t smile or make light of it, nodding to the bartender himself. “I was surprised that it was you standing there.” Javier admits as well. “Although I guess I should have recognized the asshole son you had to deal with.” He snorts, having gone back through the archived conversations now that he knows it’s you and it’s almost silly that he didn’t figure it out before.

You fluster slightly, knowing you said some mean things about him. “Yeah, sorry about that. I was venting. It’s not easy dealing with numbers all day and then you come along and argue it all.” You raise your eyebrows, “I understand that you’re trying to protect your dad but you really are a pain in my ass.” You nudge him and he chuckles, shrugging a shoulder, “I won’t apologize for being protective.” You nod and pick up your drink to have a sip. “Cheers, J.” You reach out to clink your glass against his.

He chuckles again, nodding at sentiment and taking a sip as you do. “We could have used you in Colombia.” Javi compliments you. “Being so good with numbers, you could have spotted things that took us months to figure out with Escobar.” He snorts. “When he was in “jail”-“ Javi uses air quotes. “That asshole would truck in live lobsters. I would have paid money to see you go through his money trail.”

You set your drink down, “I highly doubt that his accountant was tracking his hard earned cash.” You snort and shake your head, “the things you’ve seen down there…I couldn’t even imagine it.” You confess, knowing that he went through a lot during his time in Colombia. “Thank you for the compliment though.” You offer him a smile, “could’ve used your interrogation skills when old man Garcia refused to pay for his filing.”

Javi snorts, imagining putting the screws to that old coot. “That’s when you threaten to tell Mrs. Garcia about his drinking.” He tells you with a wink. Old man Garcia’s wife is heavily religious and has a strict no alcohol rule in her house. You laugh and he taps the bar self consciously. “I wasn’t lying. Online.” He adds. “You know what people think of me. Hell, what you think of me.” He looks at you softly. “Our conversations have been the best parts of my day.”

You soften at the sincerity in his eyes, “me too. I loved talking to you.” You sigh and shake your head, “I think I have misjudged you. I just remembered you when we were younger and then the rumors I heard about Colombia. And leaving Lorraine at the altar. Didn’t exactly paint a pretty picture but I shouldn’t have judged you like that. I think J is the real you, right? If it is, then I want to start again because I like you, Javier. I liked J a lot so if you are the same man, I want to see where this goes.”

Javi smirks at you slightly and leans in. “I thought this was starting again, sweetheart?” He teases playfully. “I don’t mind you misjudging me.” Not exactly the truth, but there’s nothing he can do about it. “Not as long as you give me a fair chance now.” He leans back. “Are you hungry? You always complain about waiting too long to eat. I don’t want you to do that tonight.”

You soften even more at the way he remembers how bad you are at eating and you nod a little too fast. “I’m starving.” You admit, “are you hungry? I wouldn’t mind getting some food after this drink.” You gesture to the bar top and you let your eyes take him in now that you aren’t fighting. His eyes are crinkled when he smiles and his dark hair has grays scattered throughout but he’s as gorgeous as ever. No wonder he fucked around so much. He could have any woman he wants.

“That sounds good.” He admits. “If you don’t want bar food, we could go somewhere else?” He knows you prefer casual over formal, which he really appreciates, but sometimes bar food isn’t what someone wants.

You shake your head, “I like the food here. They have amazing burgers.” You say and he nods, “the fucking best.” You relax a little more, taking another sip of your drink, and you let your eyes wander a little more, taking in the golden skin beneath his shirt, peeking through from the buttons he’s left undone. He notices your appraising eyes and smirks. You fluster and set your glass down, “you know how women see you.” You scoff softly, trying to cover your embarrassment at being caught.

Javi chuckles softly. “Like a notch in their bedpost.” He admits, shrugging slightly. “Last woman that hit on me told me she wanted to see if the rumors were true.” It’s not been a bad thing, but it’s not what he wants now.

His words make you frown and you feel a little guilty for eying him. "For the record, I don't think you could fuck all night long. At least that's what I heard in the grocery store a few weeks ago." You nudge him to show you're joking, "you are more than that. More than what people see." You add with a murmur, recalling the things he said to you. "You're handsome but you're smart, loyal, and funny." You say about the man you know online.

He’s grateful you don’t buy into the rumors and you are willing to judge him on what you’ve talked about. “I’m not eighteen anymore.” He huffs. “Three good rounds is about all I’ve got in me these days.” He admits, smirking slightly. “Four if you’re counting the next morning.”

Your throat goes a little dry and you pick up your wine to take a gulp. “Three is…more than I’ve had.” You confess, “one…sometimes half.” You snort and Javier chuckles, “one and a half.” You shake your head, “no. Half. He came before I did and he didn’t -” You sigh and chuckle softly.

Javi grimaces and shakes his head. “Fuck.” He snorts. “Every man has had a time where he’s too excited or worked up. But you have to make sure your girl squeals in pleasure.” He sends you a small sigh. “Sounds like you slept with some real assholes.”

You snort and nod, “absolutely. Some real assholes.” You echo his words and sigh, “I just want someone who wants me and I want them. To make them happy.” You echo your typed words, knowing he feels the same way.

Javi nods, listening rather than jumping in and offering to make you feel good. He wants to take this slow and show you - and himself - that things can be different. The bartender comes over and he asks for two menus before giving you his attention again. “When was your last relationship?” He asks. “I find it hard to believe that it’s been long. You’re too pretty to be single.”

You thought that Javier would have offered to take you to bed but the fact that he didn’t is refreshing. “Uh, you remember Frankie from the auto shop? I went out with him about two years ago. I’ve been trying to build my business and I haven’t really had time to date. I’m not a one night stand kind of girl.”

He cannot say the same, but he nods, understanding what you mean. “You have to have an emotional connect, right?” He asks, wanting to know more about you. He's still reconciling the woman online with his ex-best friend’s little sister.

You glance down at the menu, his dark eyes burning into you, but you love how his attention is solely on you. “Emotional and primal. I think that the chemistry has to be there from the beginning otherwise you’re possibly waiting for something that could never happen. I thought you were a dick for so many years but I’ve always been attracted to you. Our chemistry was bickering but it was still there from the beginning.”

Javi smirks proudly, his eyes heating up at your confession and he lifts a brow. “I won’t lie and say I’ve always wanted you.” He tells you honestly. “There was a time when you were too young for me. But now…..” he winks. “I can tell you that it’s not just innocent thoughts.”

You bite your lip at his own confession and you lean a little closer to him, “glad we are on the same page now.” You reach out to touch his hand just as the bartender comes over to ask you what you want to order. You lean back from Javier as he gestures for you to go first and you order the burger and fries. Javier orders the same and you hand the menus over. “Best fucking burgers.” He says when he takes a bite into the burger after it arrives. “Damn right.” You groan in agreement after you swallow your bite.

“So.” Javi wipes his mustache with a bar napkin and looks over at you. “If there’s one thing that you’ve never done but always wanted to, what would it be?” He asks, grinning when you lift your brows in surprise at his question.

You hum, tapping your chin after you push your empty plate away. “I want to ride a mechanical bull.” You admit, giggling at the way his brows immediately shoot up. “Seriously?” He asks and you nod, a smirk on your face. “I’ve never had the guts to get up and do it. Always figured I’d look like an idiot and fall within seconds.”

“Everyone looks like an idiot and falls within seconds.” Javi snorts. “You’ll look like everyone else.” You huff and pout slightly, making him tap his chin. “There’s a bull a town over. Hole in the wall place. We could drive over and give it a whirl.”

You grin, “let’s go, Peña.” You reach for your purse and he tuts, “my momma would whoop me for letting a lady pay. It’s our first date.” He reminds you and pulls out his wallet, throwing enough cash down to cover the bill. You thank him, unused to such gentlemanly behavior from him and his gender. You take the hand he extends you and he guides you out of the bar to his truck. “You wanna follow me or I can bring you back here?” He asks and you are hyper focused on the feel of his calloused hand in yours. “Let’s ride together.” You decide and he nods, escorting you around the truck to open the passenger door for you, helping you up.

Javi rounds the front of the truck and climbs in beside you. “It’s only about a twenty minute drive.” He promises as he turns the engine over. “We have another drink, check something off that bucket list of yours and maybe even dance a time or two.”

His truck rumbles as he pulls out of the parking lot and the radio plays a country song. You admire the way his arms flex as he navigates the road, knowing that he realizes he’s attractive but maybe not aware of how much.

“Did you always want to be an accountant?” Javi asks, glancing over at you before looking back at the road. You’re so damn pretty sitting in his passenger seat and he wonders if you will bristle at the question. “I know you’re a math whiz, but was it a goal? Or something you fell into?”

“Kinda?” You answer, “went to college for math and I wanted to work for NASA. Then - then my mom got sick after I graduated and I couldn’t go to Houston. I had an internship there and I turned it down to stay at home. Became an accountant to stay local. She’s better now, thank God, but I always wonder what could’ve been.”

“Holy shit.” He’s impressed. NASA would have been an incredible career and he wonders what kind of life you would have had if you had been able to go for that. “I understand.” He nods, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter. “Mom having cancer while I was in college really changed things for me. Honestly? I don’t know if I would have joined the DEA or not married Lorraine if she hadn’t passed.” He still misses her everyday, not regretting taking care of her one bit, but he had wondered what would have happened if she had lived. Or even lived longer than she did.

You were there the day he left Lorraine at the altar. The whole town was there. “I’m sorry. I remember your mom. She always made me feel so warm. She was kind and always made the best empanadas. I know you were a sheriff. What made you want to join the DEA?” You ask, curious what made him sign up, “was it to get away from Lorraine? From town?”

“Partly.” Javi snorts, remembering how the family he had once been almost welcomed into, had smeared his name through the streets. “She - or her family - told everyone I was fucking her best friend. Never even looked twice at her. But there were a lot of drugs running through town when I was a sheriff's deputy. Wanted to cut it off before it got here.”

You remember the rumor and you weren’t sure if you believed it. Javier was not a womanizer when he was with Lorraine. He seemed to only have eyes for her. “Yeah. It’s still bad. Those assholes will always win. You get rid of Escobar, someone else will take his place.” You sigh, “Lorraine did railroad you down the aisle.”

Javi shrugs slightly. "I loved her, but not enough." He admits. "I had some growing up to do and I don't regret it. Not really. She wouldn't have been happy in Colombia, and I wouldn't have let her stay."

You nod in understanding, “then she dated my brother. He was her rebound and I guess he didn’t really care about his best friend being her ex.” You scoff, remembering how your brother moved in on Lorraine as soon as Javier left town. “I’m sorry he was such an asshole and didn’t respect you.”

He huffs slightly and glances back over at you with an amused look before turning his attention back to the road. "Not a great look." He tells you. "Always wondered if they were fucking around before I left." He admits, revealing something that had been rolling around in his mind for a long time, but never voiced. "Doesn't matter anymore, though. We are all different people than we were back then." 

“My brother is an asshole. He lives in Dallas now with his pretty wife and two kids. I haven’t seen him for a while. When Mom was sick, he stayed away. Didn’t even come to see her.” You shake your head and lean back in your seat, “he’s always been an asshole. Used to say I was a nerd who would never have a boyfriend.” You chuckle, “guess he was kind of right.” You look up as Javier pulls into the parking lot of the bar.

“I was an asshole too.” At the time, Javi had thought it was pretty funny. He took part in the teasing thinking that it was all in good sibling fun between you and his best friend. He had been an only child and had been too immature at the time to realize the hurt that it caused you. “I’m sorry.” He murmurs as he shifts the truck into Park and looks over at you. “For everything I did back then. For the hurt I caused. I’m sorry I didn’t stop him.”

You appreciate his apology and you know it’s ridiculous to be hung up on the teasing you got as a teenager but words hurt and they have always stuck with you. You reach out to squeeze his hand, “I appreciate you saying that, Javi. Now…let’s go ride a mechanical bull.” You grin, letting go of his hand so you can unbuckle your seatbelt.

He chuckles as he follows your lead. Sensing that you want to move past that, he climbs out of the truck and comes to your door to help you out. His perusal in your outfit is both to admire you and make sure you will be safe on the bull. “Good thing you wore jeans instead of a dress this time.” He hums.

You snort, “yeah. Don’t want to be flashing my ass to everyone in the bar.” You chuckle and Javier takes your hand to escort you inside the bar after locking his truck. The bar is busy but not slammed and you walk up to the bar to take a seat. Javier gestures for you to say what you want when the bartender comes over and you order a glass of wine while he orders a whiskey. “Liquid courage.” He declares and you giggle, “maybe wine isn’t strong enough.” You hum but don’t change your order.

He smirks slightly and turns to watch the bull in the corner of the room. The floor is covered in mats around it and he leans in, his elbows braced back on the bar. “There she is.” He talks into your ear since it’s loud with conversation and music. “You nervous?”

You shiver at the way his breath fans over you and you turn your head, bringing your face closer to his, “I’m ready. Nervous, but ready.” You promise, knowing that you could look like a fool but you desperately want to try this. It has always looked fun.

“Squeeze your knees tight.” He advises you, his voice dropping slightly on instinct. “Move your hips like you’re riding a man. You’ll do just fine, sweetheart.” The bartender brings your drinks over and he leans back to grab your wine and hand it to you before he takes his whiskey.

You take a gulp of wine, stomach twisting at the way he advises you, his voice lowering. You set your glass down, “you ready Peña?” You ask and he nods, calling the bartender over to say you want to ride the bull. “Sure man. We can get it revved up.” The bartender nods, calling his coworker over to get the bull up and running.

“Now, when you fall, just tuck your body into a ball.” Javi tells you. “People hurt themselves when they try to catch themselves.”

You nod, walking over to the bull. You’re nervous and a little scared but you are excited to try this. You eye the bull, taking Javier’s hand as he helps you up onto the bull. You grip the handles, preparing yourself and you squeeze your thighs like Javier suggested. The machine whirls to life and you squeal, eyes widening as it starts to move.

The bull starts slowly, turning as the front of the machine dips down before it bucks up. Javi watches as your hand flies up, like you’ve seen Bull riders do. Your thighs clench tight around it and you make the first full turn on it. You are damn good, his brow shoots up and his cock twitches in his pants. Making him wonder if you would ride his cock like you are riding the bull, your hips swerving and rolling with the movement of the ride.

You grin, giggling as you ride the bull. It flings around but you remain on top, you rock with the motion, squealing when it swings you around again, and you rock back, feeling invincible as you conquer something on your bucket list.

The speed of the bull increases and Javi can tell you are starting to lose your seat. Knowing you are about to lose your grip on the bull’s sides, he’s still impressed. Putting two fingers in his mouth, he whistles proudly.

Loving his enthusiasm, you try to hold on for as long as you can but eventually, you fall off. You curl in on yourself like Javier recommended and you hit the mat and the bull stops. “Shit.” You hiss, stumbling a little as you stand up.

“Holy shit.” Javi rushes over and takes hold of your waist, grinning proudly. “That was great!” He tells you. “You’re lying. You have to have ridden a bull before.” He doesn’t think you actually lied, but he loves the breathless exhilaration on your face.

You shake your head, letting him guide you out of the ring. “Never. I - holy shit. I can’t believe I just did that.” You grin and your heart pounds in your chest as you lean against him. “I just did that.” You exhale breathlessly and he nods, a grin on his face. You can’t help it, you cup his cheeks and surge forward to press your lips to his.

Javi is shocked you are kissing him, but he doesn’t push you away. Letting you wrap your arm around him while your tongue slides into his mouth boldly. Groaning, he squeezes your waist and reminds himself that it’s just the adrenaline. Enjoying the fact that you are pressed up against him before you break away.

You pull back and grin at him, still riding your high, and you grab his hand, “let’s go get our drinks. I’m thirsty after that.” You guide him over to the bar again and pick up your glass of wine to have a sip. “You gonna have a ride?” You ask him, wondering if he will attempt to ride the bull.

Javi chuckles as he takes a drink of his whiskey. “Why the hell not?” He asks, pushing the empty glass towards the bartender. “It’s only been at least ten years since I’ve been on a mechanical bull.” He shrugs. “Like riding a bike, right?”

He strides over to the bull and your mouth goes dry as he swings his leg over it to straddle it. You bite your lip as you watch him adjust himself and the bull starts to move.

Javi grew up on the back of a horse and when he was younger, him and his cousins all rodeoed a little. Plus the hell raising younger years where he would come here simply to see how long he could hang on. He's older and isn’t used to it anymore, but he still hangs on and throws you a wink while the bull twists him around for the first rotation.

Your stomach twists with arousal as you watch him swivel his hips and stay on the bull. You lean against the soft barrier and take in the sight of Javier Peña riding the bull. He is sexy and you can feel yourself getting wet from the display he’s putting on.

The operator turns up the speed faster than he did with you and soon enough, Javi is flying off the bull and tucking his body like he had advised you to do. Grunting as he climbs to his feet, he smirks when you rush up to him again. “You lasted longer.” He teases. “Just like a woman.”

You snort, reaching up to brush his hair back that had fallen into his face. “You were amazing. Very sexy to watch.” You confess and he smirks, “yeah?” You nod, “amazing.” You haven’t felt this good in so long, carefree and happy.

“Do you want to try it again later on?” Javi asks, watching you grin at him. “You were really sexy riding it too.” He had a semi from watching you, even though he had no intentions of taking you to bed tonight. This was going to be different.

You love that he thought you looked sexy and you nod, “yes. I’d love that. For now, another drink?” You suggest and he smiles, taking your hand to guide you over to the bar again. You enjoy your drinks, squeal over another round on the bull, and now, your arms are wrapped around his neck as you dance to the music playing. “I really didn’t expect you’d be a dancer.” You confess, enjoying the way his fingers grip your waist.

“Too much of an asshole?” He grins at you, making fun of the unrealistic views you each had of each other. “I like dancing. It’s a good way to be close without being naked.” He hums playfully. “There were a lot of times that it was a good cover for watching sicarios. I would get a trusted asset to come with me. It wouldn’t be fair to make her sit there and just look pretty all night.”

You hum, rocking to the beat. You know about Javier's adventures in Colombia but you know he did that to find Escobar. You dance for a while longer until last orders are called. "One more or shall we head out?" He asks and you are reluctant to go home but you can't have another drink. "Let's go. I need to run errands tomorrow and I don't want to sleep in too late." He nods and pays the bill before escorting you to his truck once again. "I had a really good time tonight." You confess when he is driving back to where your car is parked.

“I did too.” Javi admits easily, probably the most relaxed he has been in a long time. You are easy to talk to now that you aren’t butting heads and Javi doesn’t just look at you like his old friend’s little sister. “Maybe we can do it again soon?” He doesn’t want to assume, you said you were extremely busy with your business at times.

“Absolutely. I’d love to do this again. I’m free on Tuesday if you want to do something?” You ask, knowing it’s crazy to like him this much already but you’ve been getting to know him online for weeks.

“I think I can make that work.” He thinks about the work he has scheduled with his dad and nods. “I’m sure we’ll talk online?” He asks. “If something comes up, I’ll let you know.”

“Sounds like a plan, Peña.” You hum, looking out of the window at the passing streetlights until you turn your head to look at him, admiring his profile highlighted by the dashboard and the dim light outside. When you arrive back at your car, he opens the door for you and you reach into your purse for your keys, unlocking your door and before you can open it, Javier cups your cheek, bringing your face to his. His kiss is sweet, tilting your head so he can deepen it a little and you moan softly into his mouth. He’s a good kisser. He pulls back before he goes further and you smile, “goodnight Javier. See you soon.” You slide into the car and buckle your seatbelt then turn the engine, offering him a wave before you put your car in drive and make your way home. Javier stands there for a few moments, watching your car disappear in the distance and he sighs, “holy shit.” He shakes his head and gets into his truck, heading home to his bed. Alone.

**** 

“You missed!” Javi pumps his fist as he crows playfully, watching you spin around and stick your tongue out at him. He wants to show you what you can do with that tongue, but he just smirks as he gets to his feet after marking out your last set. It’s the third game you’ve played tonight and both of you are almost equally bad at bowling. Making it fun as you joke and play around on the lane. “Watch a professional.” He jokes, blowing on his fingers before he picks up the red and blue swirled ball he had picked out.

You roll your eyes, “sure thing, babe.” You watch him as he makes a show of positioning his feet, rolling his shoulders, before he throws the ball down the lane. It rolls into the gutter and you smother your giggle with your hand until you mark the sheet. “Professional, huh?” You tease, walking over to grab your ball. “How about a bet?” You suggest and he nods, “sure. What’s the bet?” You smirk, “first person to get a strike…gets a kiss.” You proposition and Javier smirks, “you’re on.” 

You make a show of positioning yourself to throw the ball, concentrating on the middle line, and you bowl it, holding your breath as you watch it go straight down the middle, all the pins flying as you get a strike. “Hey, that’s cheating!” Javier accuses halfheartedly and you grin, dusting off your hands as you walk over to him. “Now…my prize, Peña?”

Javi leans back in the hard plastic chairs and reaches for your waist, dragging you down into his lap. It’s been a long goddamn time since he’s felt this lighthearted and it’s all because of you. You giggle and throw your arm around his neck as he pulls you closer. “Your prize,” he teases, brushing his nose against yours. “You cheater.” Before you can protest, he lunges forward and presses his lips to yours.

You melt into the kiss, reaching up to run your fingers through his hair. His tongue slides against your lower lip and you allow him access, moaning softly into the kiss. His hands slide along your back and you feel giddy, heart pounding as he kisses you. You pull back after several moments, pecking his lips. “What a prize.” You murmur, your lips burning from his kiss. “And for the record, I didn’t cheat. It was luck.”

He chuckles, knowing you haven’t pretended to suck at bowling for three games to suddenly become good. “I know.” He pecks your lips again and pats your hip. “Lucky ass strike. I’m not complaining at all. I reaped the benefits of it too.”

**** 

You watch Javier shove a handful of popcorn into his mouth and giggle, “slow down. We can get a refill, baby.” You nudge him then take a sip of the large soda. “I heard this is a good movie. I always liked Russell Crowe.” You say as the trailers start. 

“It’s Gladiators, hermosa. It’s gonna be epic.” Javier says, channeling the teenage boy who would’ve loved this movie. He used to watch Westerns and Sci-Fi with his dad. They had to go to the movies to watch Star Wars at the midnight showing when it came out. You settle in beside him, leaning closer as the movie starts.

Javi throws his arm around your shoulders and watches you while he watches the movie. Wanting to make sure that you aren’t bored with the movie, but it’s soon apparent that you are just as thrilled with the action as he is. “They used to sleep together.” Javi predicts, talking about the Emperor’s sister.

Javier rubs your arm when you shiver but it’s not from the AC, it’s from him being so close. “I feel like he’s going to die.” You whisper, having a feeling that Maximus isn’t going to make it. You lean over to grab the soda, having a sip, and Javier leans in so you tilt the straw towards him so he can take a sip.

He feels like you are right, sucking down some of the soda and looking over at you and his eyes slide down to your lips. He leans in hums, "I think so too." He admits and leans back, reaching over and taking your hand when you put the soda down.

You feel like a teenager when he squeezes your hand and you watch the rest of the movie. When it’s over, Javier drives you home. His hand in yours as the radio plays and the wind is in your hair from the open windows. When he pulls up outside of your place, he cuts the engine and walks around the truck to open your door. He takes your hand and escorts you to your door. When you get there, you smile at him, “next time, I pick the movie.” You tease and he chuckles, reaching for your waist to pull you closer. 

“Rom com.” Javier guesses and you chuckle, reaching up to grip his shirt, dragging him closer. 

“You love them really.” You joke and he presses his lips to yours. His tongue slides against yours and he backs you up against the door. You whimper into his mouth and he kisses you thoroughly. He pulls back and your lips tingle when you say “do you want to come in?” You ask and he sighs, “not tonight. I gotta get up early to help Pa with the cows.” 

You nod, stomach twisting as you wonder why he hasn’t wanted to sleep with you. “Sure. I’ll see you soon.” You offer him a smile even though it’s a little tight. “Bye, cariño.” He murmurs and you turn to open your door. He stands there until you close it, waving at him until the door is shut. You sigh when you drop your purse down, confused as to why Javier hasn’t slept with you yet. You’ve been dating for 2 months, talking for 3 and you don’t understand why he hasn’t touched you when his reputation displays his willingness to fall into bed. You ponder it all night long until you come up with a plan. You’re going to invite Javier over for dinner and seduce him.

**** 

Another cold shower. Javi hisses as he shivers under the icy spray of water, closing his eyes and willing his erection to go down. Every day he is hard, especially when he is around you. He’s tried very hard to make sure he doesn’t rush this, he doesn’t rush you into bed. Wanting there to be a solid foundation of trust and respect between you both. He just has to wait until the time is right to move things forward. “Fuck.” He twitches despite the cold temperature and reaches down to wrap his hand around his cock. You are so fucking sexy and he is more attracted to you as the days pass. He’ll have to jerk off, he closes his eyes and thinks about you, reaching out with his other hand to turn the hot water on.

**** 

You check the chicken is cooked and cover it with foil just as the doorbell rings and you walk over to the door to open it after adjusting your dress. It’s tight and black and you hope he likes it. “Hey baby.” You greet him with a smile, leaning in to kiss his cheek.

"Hey." His eyes widen slightly and he wonders if he had misread the situation and undressed. He's glad he stopped to get flowers and a bottle of that wine you like. "You look nice. Very nice."

“Thanks, baby.” You wink and take the flowers from his hand. “These are gorgeous. Thank you.” You carry them into the kitchen and grab a vase to put them in. “Would you mind opening the wine? Dinner is nearly ready.” You tell him and fill the vase to put the flowers in.

“Sure.” You’ve got the wine glasses out as well as a bottle opener, so Javi brings the bottle over to the table to pour out some drinks. “It smells great!” He calls out to the kitchen, listening to you hustle around. “You didn’t have to do this, you know. We could have gone out to dinner.”

You look at him over your shoulder after you put the vase down on the side. You smile at him, “I wanted to treat you. I know you and your Pa don’t cook a lot so I figured you’d enjoy a homemade meal. Roast chicken, mashed potatoes, asparagus and red wine jus.” You tell him about tonight’s menu as he pours the wine out.

His brows lift in surprise at how elaborate the dinner is and he is impressed. “Are we celebrating something that I wasn’t aware of?” He asks with a slight smile, watching as you give him another one in return. It makes his heart flutter and he can’t help but think how beautiful you are. “Just a nice night together.” Your answer makes Javi hums in approval.

You work fast to put dinner together, setting it down in front of him, and you sit down in the seat beside him at your small kitchen table. “Enjoy.” You tell him and you pick up your knife and fork so you can dig in.

“It looks delicious.” Javi compliments as he looks down at the meal you’ve put in front of him. “Thank you, sweetheart.” You smile at him and again that fluttering in his heart makes him feel young and he wonders if this is that complete love his pa would always claim would one day find him and knock him on his ass.

You talk about your days while you eat. You still message online on nights you can’t see each other, complemented by phone calls, and after you finish eating, you clear the plates and grab the dessert you bought. “Still like pie?” You ask, placing a piece of apple pie and ice cream in front of him.

“You’re spoiling me.” Javi groans, watching the steam from the still hot pie rise and the ice cream start to melt over it. “I will have to plan something special for our next date.” He picks up his spoon and cuts into the pie for a large bite.

You like that he likes the dinner, making you feel special that you can look after him like this. You sit down and watch him devour the dessert. You eat your own plate and after the plates are cleared away, you find yourself on the sofa with your glasses of wine. Your radio plays in the background and you sit beside Javier, your legs tucked beneath you. “You’re so damn handsome.” You reach up to caress his cheek, “and smart. And funny. And I am so happy that we met online.”

“And you are blind.” He chuckles, leaning into your touch. “You are the one who is beautiful, kind and hilarious, you should be running from the disaster that I am. But for some reason you like spending time with me and I’m happy you do.”

“Me too. You’re not a disaster. You’re incredible.” You murmur, leaning in to press your lips to his. He tilts his head and you deepen the kiss, tangling your tongue with his. You kiss for a few moments until you break the kiss, kissing along his neck, and you shift to straddle him, your dress riding up your thighs.

Javi groans, his hands sliding up and down your thighs and he wonders what you are doing. He’s been good at not letting things go too far. “Sweetheart….” He pants, closing his eyes as he can’t believe he’s about to push you away. “Sweetheart, stop.” He murmurs.

You lean back and frown at him, “what’s wrong?” You ask, confused about why he’s pushing you away. “I don’t - not tonight.” He says and you shift off of him, “I don’t know - I’m confused. Am I - are you not attracted to me?” You question him, confused and hurt at him pushing you away.

“What?” He frowns at the question, looking at you like you are crazy. “No- no of course not. I am attracted to you.” He promises, but you shake your head, not believing him. “I am, sweetheart, I just- I’m trying to behave.” He tells you, shoving his hand through his hair and wishing you don’t look like he’s just broken up with you.

You shift to stand up, your stomach twisting, and you stare at him, “you’re trying to behave? I don’t want you to behave.” You look down at him, “I want you to fuck me. It’s been 2 months of dating. I never imagined you would go bowling, go to the movies like a teenager. I love that, don’t get me wrong, I loved all of our dates but God, Peña, I just want you to fuck me.” You exclaim, chest heaving.

Javi swallows harshly, watching you stand in front of him, practically begging him to fuck you. His mouth is dry and he rubs his hands on his thighs before he stands up. “Show me your bedroom, hermosa.” He demands. “You want me to fuck you, that’s where I’ll do it.”

His dark eyes are almost black and you see something in them that makes your stomach twist with arousal. “Baby, I want you.” You take his hand and guide him towards your bedroom, opening the door and you are nervous. Javier has had a lot of lovers. What if you don’t match up?

He’s groaning when he sees your bed and imagines spreading you out on it. You’ll look so pretty thoroughly fucked and exhausted. “I had a physical when I got back home.” Javi murmurs quietly. “And I haven’t slept with anyone, but I don’t have a condom.”

“I’m on birth control and I haven’t slept with anyone for a while.” You tell him and you reach for the tie of your wrap dress. You slowly untie it and let your dress fall open to expose the lingerie you picked out in hopes that Javier would touch you tonight.

“Fuck.” He exhales roughly, cock twitching in his pants as he takes in your curves, showcased in lace. “So fucking sexy.” He starts to unbutton his shirt as he strides closer, feeling cocky and yet also nervous because you are so important to him. “What were you thinking about when you got dressed? Me fucking you? I think about that a lot.”

“I was thinking about you. Fucking me. Touching me. I think about that a lot too.” You tell him and reach out to run your hands down his chest. “You’re so gorgeous, Javi.” You murmur, caressing his skin and you slide your hands up to push the shirt from his shoulders.

Javi hums, not used to really accepting compliments. Women would flatter him, in Colombia to earn a bit more, or to get him to fuck them. You, you have nothing but honesty and desire in your eyes and it’s thrilling. “Thought about it a lot too.” He admits with a smirk. “Too many cold showers lately.”

You giggle, “no more cold showers.” You promise and slide your hands lower to unbuckle his belt. You pull it from the loops and let it drop to the floor. You unbutton his jeans, reaching in to squeeze his hard cock and you are shocked to find he doesn’t wear underwear. “Oh God.” You gasp at the girth of him and you pull him out of his underwear.

Javi groans as your fingers wrap around him, twitching in your palm and glancing down at your hand engulfing him. “Fuck.” He hisses, eyes closing when you give him an experimental pump. “You seem surprised, hermosa.” He pants. “Rarely wear underwear. Too hot.”

“I didn’t know.” You admit, “God, didn’t know you had such a gorgeous cock. No wonder every woman from Texas to Colombia wanted you.” You pump him again, shifting down into your knees as you admire his girth and you lean in to wrap your lips around him.

“Shiiiiit.” He hisses, jaw clenching as he looks down at you on your knees in front of him. He’s imagined it, but this looks ever sexier than what he had thought. “Fuck baby, you thought about sucking my cock?” He asks, cupping your cheek. “You like doing it? I want to tongue fuck you. See how you like being licked.”

You moan around his cock at his filthy words, loving the way he talks dirty and it has you soaking your panties. You take him deeper, keeping your eyes on his, and you wrap your fingers around the back of his cock, starting to pump him.

“You’re good at this. Tell me you don’t love sucking cock, you could be a pro.” He grunts, caressing the hinge of your jaw and pushing slightly deeper. “Gonna be thinking about this when I’m working. My cock down your throat while you bat your eyes at me.”

You relax your jaw, letting him push deeper, and his words have you moaning around his cock. Fuck, he’s so gorgeous standing above you. His stomach is slightly soft but you love that. You are proud that he’s enjoying this when he’s had so much experience. You choke around him as you try to take him deeper. You exhale through your nose and try again, taking him deeper into your throat.

“Fuck, don’t hurt yourself, hermosa.” Javi groans, pulling you off of him slightly as he pulls his hips back. “Are you wet? Dripping from having my cock in your mouth? Why don’t you sit on my face while you do it? Let me eat your cunt.”

You nod, dripping wet from him and the idea of him eating you out while you suck him off. Pushing his jeans down, he kicks them off and is bare before you. You stand up on shaky legs and he steadies you. You lean in to kiss him, your tongue tangling with his and he pushes your dress from your shoulders.

He has a lot of experience with undressing a woman. His hands are skilled in stripping someone down and he does it with an eagerness that is more than just hungry for sex. He wants a connection, a bond that cannot be broken even when he pulls away.

You let him reach behind you to unclasp your bra, dragging the straps down your arms until it drops to the floor and your tits are exposed to his hungry gaze. "Javi!" You gasp when he grabs your back, pulling you close so he can duck down and take your nipple into his mouth.

He’s always been a greedy man. Sex is addictive. It's honestly just as addictive as the cocaine he had chased down and tried to prevent people from snorting up their noses. The feeling of losing himself, pleasure both given and received lets him forget about the problems or guilt that weighed him down. Now he gets to just feel you, learn what makes you cry in pleasure.

You moan as his hands slide down to squeeze your ass while he bites and sucks on your nipple until he switches to the other. His fingers hook into your panties and he pushes them down as he kisses along the swell of your breast. “Fuck, need more.” You whine, lightly pushing him away so you can kick your panties aside, patting the bed. “Lay down, baby.”

He chuckles at how eager you are. Following your orders and laying down, giving himself plenty of room away from the headboard. Watching as you peruse his body, your own eyes just as hungry as he knows his are.

You shift to kneel on the bed, shuffling up the bed until you face away from him and straddle his chest. His hands immediately go to your hips to drag you backwards to hover over his face and you bend down to take his cock into your hand.

Javi groans as he takes in the sight of your soaked folds. They are perfect and puffy, soaking wet because of your want of him. His fingers dig into your hips and he pulls you back more so he can flatten his tongue against your folds.

You cry out when he slides his tongue through your folds, making you grind back onto him. “Fuck baby. That’s good.” You whimper and lean down so you can take his cock into your mouth with a moan, wanting him to feel just as good.

Javi groans happily, enjoying the tang of your juices on his tongue. Licking into your cunt eagerly and making it messy. Groaning again when your mouth wraps around his cock again.

You love how he moans into your flesh and you grip his cock, sloppily sucking his cock as you want him to enjoy this as much as you are. You love how enthusiastic he is, sucking your clit into his mouth and you moan around his cock again.

He continues to lick into you, rocking your hips back and burying his tongue deep inside your soaked walls. Twitching in your mouth and groaning when a dribble of precum is spurted into your mouth as you suck.

You moan, hollowing your cheeks around his cock as you take him deeper, rocking back on his face as he sucks on your clit a little harder. It’s so good. You moan and pull off of his cock, continuing to pump him in your hand.

Javi moans into your folds, pulling back slightly. “I don’t want to cum yet.” He grunts before he is diving back in to make you cum.

You huff but loosen your grip on his cock, not taking him back into your mouth but he ducks harder on your clit. You rest your cheek on his thigh as he slides his tongue inside of you. You pant, “God baby. You’re gonna make me cum.” You moan, so close to your orgasm as he pushes his tongue deeper.

That’s the point. He doesn’t stop, speeding up his tongue as it flicks through your walls and pulls you back more firmly on his face. Willing you to cum for him, wanting to hear you and taste you.

You rock back onto his face, unashamed of your need and lust for him, and you moan his name when you fall over the edge. Your thighs gripping his face as he works you through it. “Javi. Oh shit. Baby, I - oh God.” You ramble against his thigh.

Javi loves it. The slick of your release covering his mouth and jaw as he works you through it. Keeping ahold of your hips and your cunt firm to his mouth until you are whimpering his name as a little protest.

He pushes you over the edge and keeps pushing, making you hiss as you get overstimulated. "Javi." You whine his name again, needing him to pull back and he relents, leaning away from your cunt with a groan. You sigh, closing your eyes, "God, so good." You murmur, taking a moment to ride your high.

Javi pants, licking his lips as he strokes your ass. He knows that feeling, riding the wave. He would need a cigarette if he hadn’t been using the patches and he still hasn’t even cum. Shoving his arm under his head, he watches you shift off of him a few minutes later. His cock is throbbing but he doesn’t mind.

You shift to lay beside him, leaning in to kiss him, and he turns his head so you can slide your tongue against his. You moan into the kiss, uncaring about your tangy cum on his lips, and you slide your hand down to grip his cock, squeezing him before you pump him slowly. "You're too good, Javi. How do you want me?" You ask, wanting him to enjoy this in case you don't cum again. You've already gotten more than you would have from other lovers.

Javi groans into your mouth. “I like to kiss and be close.” He admits. “But sometimes I change positions.” He rolls onto you and slides his hand down to bring your thigh up to his hip. “Start this way and end up however we do?”

You nod, sliding your hands along his back, loving the way his muscles flex under your touch. "Sounds perfect." You murmur and he reaches between you to position his cock at your entrance. You close your eyes as he pushes inside of you, your head tilting back while you silently moan at the stretch.

He watches you closely, loving how expressive you are. How you don’t care about how you look. You care about how you feel, how he is making you feel. It looks like you are feeling good and he wants to make you always feel this way. “So pretty.” He moans quietly. “So goddamn pretty and all mine. My pretty girl.”

You slide your hands up into his hair, "yours. All yours." You promise, lifting your legs so you can wrap them around his hips. He sinks deeper inside of you and you whimper, "God, you feel so good inside of me. Move, please." You beg, "don't care if you cum too fast. You already made me cum."

Javi snorts and shakes his head. “Fuck no.” He grunts, pulling his hips back to surge forward again. “Not going to do that to you.” He hisses out, eyes rolling back when you clench down around him. His lips find your skin and he starts to kiss, everywhere he can reach as he starts to move.

His lips on your skin have you on fire, rocking your hips up to meet his thrusts, and you caress his back, loving the way he feels covering your body. You tilt your head back so he can kiss down your neck until you grab his cheeks, bringing his mouth back to yours and you moan into his mouth, tangling your tongue with his as he rocks into you.

Every thrust of his hip makes both of you pant in pleasure, breath exchanged and mingled together as the two of you move. Javi slides his arms around your body and pulls you up close, sinking deeper as he pushes into you again and again.

He drops his hips and he grinds against your clit, making you gasp in pleasure, and he smirks, focusing on that spot again. “Good girl.” He murmurs and the praise makes you push your heels into his ass to press him deeper inside of you. “Shit. Feels so good. I - never felt like this before.” You admit breathlessly, getting closer and closer.

“Good.” It’s not good that you’ve never been fucked properly, but he’s glad you are making sure that you get the attention you deserve. “You feel so good. Tight little pussy squeezing my cock.” He praises roughly. “Could spend all night right here.”

His words make you gush around him and he caresses your thigh as he rocks into you, making you moan when he hits something just right. “Yes. Yes. Javier. Fuck, right there. That - oh God!” You squeal as you clamp down on his cock, soaking him, and his name echoes on your bedroom walls as you cum around him for the first time.

“Fuuuuuck.” He growls, slowly thrusting into you as you fall apart on his cock. Loving how tight you get, how wet. Bracing his knees on the bed, he pulls you up until you are in his lap.

You gasp, feeling him sink deeper and press against your cervix in this position. Your hands grip his waist and you scramble to brace your feet on the bed. “God, Javi.” You cry out when he starts to rock his hips again. “Yes. Love - love this.” You choke out, tilting your head back.

He groans as he rolls his hips up, using his thighs as he works in and out of you. “Fuck, you’re-“ he chokes out, gasping your name when you squeeze him inside your walls again. “Fuck, hermosa.” He hisses, lunging forward and biting down on your jaw as the thrusts become sharper, snapping his hips up.

You love the way he bites as he nips and kisses down your neck until he’s taking your nipple into his mouth. You tangle one hand in his hair, tugging on it to bring his mouth back to yours. Your tongues slide against each other while he thrusts into you and you use your feet to grind down onto him. “Shit. You got me worked up. Might cum again.” You pant against his chin.

“Do it.” He huffs, his hands sliding up and down your back, gripping your ass as he grinds into you. “Cum all over me again. Wanna feel it. So good.” He babbles slightly, hoping you are enjoying this as much as you seem to be. It’s been awhile since he’s had sex but he’s holding out. Jerking off before the date had been a good idea.

You pant, rocking down onto him and it doesn’t take long but it does take you by surprise when you cum again, clamping down on his cock and soaking him for the second him. Your chest heaves as you tilt your head back, moaning his name as you experience bliss once more.

Javi takes that opportunity to kiss along your throat, licking and biting your skin as he rocks up into you, fucking you through your orgasm. Starting to move a little faster as he chases his own pleasure, while the grunts and groans get louder.

You try to rock down onto him, wanting him to cum, and you tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging his face to yours. "Cum for me, Javi." You plead, leaning in to kiss him while he grunts into your mouth.

It doesn’t take many more thrusts, stiffening and moaning your name into your mouth, his cock pulsing deep inside you. Flooding your cunt with ropes of his sticky seed while he pants in pleasure. “Fuck.”

You smile against his chin as he relaxes beneath you, shifting you to lay you down on your pillows. You feel like you're floating as he leans in to gently nip your chin. "So fucking good." You murmur, "rumors were not wrong."

He chuckles quietly. “Glad I could live up to the hype.” He teases. “Fuck- I wish I had a cigarette.” He groans. “Nothing better than a cigarette after amazing sex.”

You sigh, caressing his cheek, "I don't have any cigarettes, baby." You murmur, "sorry." You lean in to kiss his cheek and he nods, "it's okay. I'm trying to quit." You shift to lay down and he pulls out of you, shuffling off the bed to head into your bathroom for a rag so he can clean you up.

Javi cleans up quickly and brings the rag back, damp and soapy to make sure you are wiped clean before he tosses it back into the sink. Not sure if you want him to lay with you, he stands in the doorway and looks at you laying in your bed like a warm puddle, boneless and content. It makes him smile, watching you almost glow in the aftereffects.

“Come here.” You pat the bed and he nods, slipping back into the bed with you after he pulls the comforter from under you. You curl into his chest, swinging your leg over his hip, “are you going to stay the night? I’ve been told I make great pancakes.”

“If you want me to.” Javi settles back against the pillows and holds you close, his fingers tracing the lines of your back as you cuddle close. The fan spins lazily above you and he feels completely relaxed. “I’ll do whatever you want me to.” He chuckles. “Had no other plans, except maybe logging online and talking to this girl I’ve been seeing.”

You grin against his peck, “is she nice?” You ask and Javier smirks and shrugs one shoulder, “she’s alright.” You playfully slap his chest but he grabs your hand and brings it to his lips to kiss the back of it. “I want you to stay.” You murmur, turning your head to kiss his chest.

Javi hums happily and agrees. “Then I’ll stay.” He promises. “But your pancakes better be worth it.” He teases, happy that he had found someone that it was so natural to be with, in and out of bed.

You snort, “just you wait, Peña.” You promise and snuggle into his side again, enjoying the closeness between you.

**** 

Javier groans as he walks into the kitchen, his jeans on and unbuttoned after he cleaned up in the bathroom. He rubs his eyes and you turn around to look at him, dressed in his shirt. “Pancakes are ready.” You declare, setting a plate down on the table for him but you grab the can of whipped cream to squirt a smiley face on the top cake for him.

​​He huffs in amusement as he looks down at the smiley face on his pancakes. “Did I do that good fucking you last night?” He teases as he reaches around and pats your ass. “I get the special pancakes?” The last time he had seen this was on a kids menu in some pancake diner. It’s cute and he pulls you down for a kiss.

You giggle against his lips, pecking them a few times, "you did real good, baby. Wanted to show you my appreciation. You said you've been hungrier since you quit smoking so I figured you'd want a big breakfast. Bacon and eggs are nearly done."

“I could have helped you.” He had slept longer than he meant to, intending to wake up with you this morning. However, when he opened his eyes, he was all alone in the bed. “Thank you, you didn’t have to do this. I could have taken you out.”

You shake your head, “I woke up early and didn’t want to wake you up. You looked peaceful. I know you’ve been up early with your dad so you needed the sleep. I like cooking, I like taking care of you.” You confess, biting your lip as you plate up the eggs and bacon and set the plate on the table.

Javi softens and smiles at you. “I’m not complaining at all, sweetheart.” He promises. “I really appreciate it.” He gets up to grab the two mugs of coffee you have poured. “Let’s eat while your hard work is hot.” He tells you, pulling out your chair for you to sit.

You sit down, picking up your knife and fork to dig in to eat and your eyes meet Javier’s as he groans when he takes a bite of your pancakes. “Good?” You ask and he hums, swallowing his bite. “So fucking good.” You grin, proud that he likes them. You watch him eat, enjoying the product of your labor and you notice him staring at you. “Do I have something on my face?” You ask, reaching for the napkin.

“No.” Javi shakes his head and forks up another bite of eggs. “Just admiring how pretty you are without makeup on.” He admits. “You are pretty with it, but I think you’re even more beautiful without it.”

You fluster, cheeks warming at his compliment. Something soft that you never really expected from Javier Peña, especially the one you knew from childhood. “Thank you. I like the five o clock shadow on you.” You gesture to his unshaved face.

“Yeah.” He rubs his face with his hand, feeling the raspiness of the hair growing in. “Can’t grow a beard for shit though.” He snorts. “Comes in all patchy.”

You lean closer, resting your elbow on the table, “sexy no matter what.” You promise and he offers you a bashful smile, making your heart flutter. 

**** 

You wrap your arms around his neck, swaying to the music. Javier decided to take you to the fair that’s happening a town over and you are currently on the makeshift dance floor, swaying to the music played by the teenage band.

“Are you having a good time?” Javi asks, pulling you a little closer and leaning his cheek against yours as the band plays. Tonight has been wonderful, but he can’t remember a time that he’s not had a good time around you. You’ve played some games and ridden some rides, had plenty of fair food, and now he gets to hold you close.

"Always with you, baby." You promise, breathing him in. He's become your home, your person to vent to, to cry with, to laugh with. You've never experienced anything like this. 

He leans back to look at you and you lean forward to nudge your nose against him. "I love you." He blurts out and you pull back in surprise. Neither of you have mentioned your feelings yet but you are shocked that he was the first one to say anything. He looks surprised with himself then he gets nervous and you cup his cheek, "I love you too." You declare, leaning forward to brush your lips with his.

Javi smiles against your lips, his fingers digging into your waist as he deepens the kiss. He is home, in mind, body and spirit. Healing every day while sharing himself with you. Your accounts are both canceled, no need to chat online, now that you have each other.

  ​​

[f1angelz]

𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 — lewis hamilton x f!reader

summary: Y/N has developed a habit of crying every night due to her emotional distress. Lewis finds out about her little secret after one night of hearing her sobs. Inspired by the song “When She Cries” by Restless Heart.

content warnings: none, just kinda sad!

i wrote this when i felt super down one night 🥲 i was overthinking abt my future, and the song that inspired this fic is so close to my heart. i hope you guys like this !!

── .✦

The past few months have been hard.

Y/N didn’t really feel like herself— at all. No matter how hard she tried to, it just wasn’t happening. Her fears were constantly eating her thoughts, creating an emotional mess that she didn’t know was possible.

Everyday she would wake up in the morning and try her best to repress her thoughts with a splash of cold water on her face, and a morning kiss or text from her boyfriend, Lewis.

God knew how much she wanted to open up to Lewis, but she couldn’t— too afraid to show her vulnerable side. Especially with Lewis being busy with races and all, she didn’t want him to be burdened with her emotional and mental problems.

So she hid it.

And when all the world is sleeping, she remains awake with tears flowing from her eyes and muffled sobs on the living room couch.

It was a frequent occurrence, even when Lewis was home for the off-season.

Once she feels like Lewis has drifted off to sleep, she’d sneak out of bed and place a pillow in replacement for her presence and leaves the bedroom quietly.

As soon as she shuts the door, her eyes start to sting and well up with tears— becoming uncontrollable for the next few moments.

There she sits on the couch with a dimly lit lamp, staring blankly at the balcony view of the night sky. With each tear and sob she let out, it was a temporary solution for the pain her thoughts were causing her.

After a few hours, she’d crawl back into bed and wake up the next morning like nothing happened. Yet a part of her thoughts still remain, ready to be cried out when the night comes.

She hoped that Lewis wouldn’t find out about her. Her vulnerability.

But of course, Lewis wasn’t dumb.

When she cries, a part of him shatters completely. It made him question himself as a partner— did he do something wrong? Was he treating her right?

It was only a matter of weeks, even days for Lewis to find out. As much as Lewis wanted to help, he didn’t want to scare her away. That was the last thing he’d want to happen.

Instead, he says a little prayer on behalf of her— that her pain goes away and she may finally find whatever she needed to keep her mind and heart at ease. But as each passing night comes by, her sobs grow louder and the pain in his chest was slowly becoming unbearable.

There was one night where he really, really couldn’t take the pain of hearing her sobs. It shattered him to the core.

So he peels himself out of the sheets and leaves bed, ignoring whatever time it probably was.

He quietly opens the door and sees her on the couch, curled up with a pillow on her chest.

Y/N is quick to wipe her tears away and plaster a smile on her face, trying her best to conceal the pain.

“O-Oh! Hey, I’m sorry I left bed, I just went out to drink a glass of water in the kitchen, then I decided to stay out here for a while.” She said in between sniffles, voice hoarse, ever so obvious that she just cried.

Lewis sighs, looking at her with sympathy. He walks towards the couch and sits beside her, taking a good look.

Though the lamp was dim, he could clearly see her swollen eyes— evident that she had been crying for hours.

Y/N knew that he wouldn’t believe her very smart lie, her face gave it all away.

Without saying anything, Lewis takes her into his arms.

She felt her eyes stinging, blurring her vision as tears formed once more.

“Please tell me what’s going on, my love. It pains me to hear your cry every night..”

Y/N’s tears fall down even more, now unable to hide her vulnerability.

She sobs and Lewis holds her even tighter, stroking her arm to calm her down.

“It’s okay, let it all out. Talk to me when you’re ready.” He rests his chin on her head while his heart still aches from the oblivion of her tears.

She didn’t know what to do at that moment. Obviously, there was no point in lying about her state anymore, it would just add fuel to fire. She felt trapped, knowing that she’d have to tell Lewis about her little secret for the past few months.

But how?

Her emotions were all over the place. Words were stuck in her throat like a clogged pipe, unable to make its way out no matter how hard she tried.

“L-lew..” She manages to say in a small voice, her chest heaving up and down to catch her breath. She looks up at him with glassy eyes and fidgeting fingers, “Yes, my love?” His gaze softens, hand over hers to ease her trembling.

“It’s so h-hard..”

Lewis places a kiss on her forehead, “It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me now. Take your time.”

She nods, still trembling.

“Whatever it is you’re going through now, I’m here. I know it hurts, love. I hear you every night trying to keep your sobs down, but your pain is evident. If you’ll let me, I’ll ease it for you.”

“B-but I don— hick— ‘n wanna be a burden.. You’re s-so— hick— b-busy with racing, m-my— hick— p-problems shouldn’t be y-yours..”

“Oh, my love, you will never be a burden for me.. We’re a team, remember? When one is down, the other one helps them get back on their feet— and I’m the one who’s doing that now.” Lewis places a hand on her cheek, wiping her tears away.

“I’m always here no matter what. No rush, okay? Whenever you’re ready, my love.”

He gives a reassuring smile, kissing her forehead once more.

Her heart feels a little bit lighter with Lewis’ words, tears have stopped falling yet her breath was still recovering.

They fell asleep on the couch that night, entangled in each other’s embrace.

Ever since then, not a single tear was shed at night.

── .✦

[pomefioredove]

"stop saying things that make me wanna kiss the hell out of you!" with Idia please!

idia the kind of guy to talk tough over dms and then stare at you like 0_0 when you meet up

summary: "stop saying things that make me want to kiss the hell out of you" type of post: short fic characters: idia additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not specified to be yuu, kissing!??!?!

"stop saying things that make me wanna kiss the hell out of you!!!"

That's how it started.

Just one message on a night where you were both feeling a little too bold for your own good.

"yeah?? I'd like to see you try"

You'd been playing some stupid online game that Idia had been recommended, for much longer than you should've. It was well past two in the morning by now, on a school night no less.

Someone would nag you about it in the morning, but that's a problem for future you.

Current you is hidden under a sea of blankets, trying to hide the light of your phone screen from the room.

"maybe i will, huh???"

You smile at his reply. As if.

The game had been long abandoned, leaving you to your usual banter before you found something else to do together.

But it's almost three, and you're actually starting to get tired.

"im holding u to that. you better not get cold feet tomorrow"

No response. He's probably trying to come up with some witty comeback that'll leave you speechless, as always. But, nothing.

Weird.

You don't see much of him the next day, either. He hasn't been responding to any of your messages, and his status is offline, which is very unlike him. He's almost never not online in some capacity.

You're walking back to your dorm when your phone goes off.

"sending you my location. meet me asap"

Weird, again, weird. Idia being anywhere but his room is strange in and of itself.

Curiosity gets the best of you, and you end up somewhere behind the school, in a shaded grove.

And there's a head of glowing blue hair sitting against one of the trees.

"Idia?" you ask, a little dumbfounded. "What's up?"

He has his hands in his pockets, and a terrified look on his face.

Still, he speaks. "Ready?"

"Ready?" you repeat. "For...?"

You sit down next to him, and he flinches, clearly wanting to scoot away from you but not letting himself.

"Seriously," he sighs, sulking. "And you told me not to get cold feet..."

Then it clicks. Your face lights up, a little amused, a little flustered, but overall, very surprised.

He's going to...

You try to hold back a grin. "Yeah, I'm ready,"

Idia sighs (dramatically), mumbles, "Well, you asked for it," and kisses you on the mouth.

It's... not very good.

Tense would be an understatement, he seems to hold the static kiss for much longer than necessary, as if he's just as afraid of finishing it as he was starting.

After what amounts to a minute of nothing, you pull back.

"Before you say anything-" you say, quickly, noticing the devastated look on his face. "Maybe I should lead. Okay?"

Idia opens his mouth, as if to argue, but the only thing that comes out is a faint, squeaky, "okay".

You move a little closer, cupping his face in your palms, trying to figure out how to lead.

His whole face (and hair) is pink, and he's staring at you like you're about to take a bite out of him instead.

You smile, push his hair out of his face, and kiss him.

It's... a little better. He actually kisses back, and you pull away as soon as you feel him getting nervous again.

"I suck at this," he sighs. "This is so cringe. You should just get it over with and kill me now."

"Have you had enough, then?"

A long silence follows. He stares at you. You stare back.

Idia takes a deep breath, then kinda smiles. "...Third time's a charm, right?"

[trashmouththeorist]

severus snape fic recs

my personal favs

Young Snape:

a life of smoke and silvered glass: Slight AU in which Severus apologizes, tries harder, and stays friends with Lily. Severus doesn't become a Death Eater because he believes in it, Jily get married. Sweet, slightly sad ending. (So cute).

Falling Apart: Time travel fic, no pairings, Severus goes back to when James levicorpused him. (I loved this, I loved how Mary was included and Avery had a redemption arc. Severus never calls Lily mudblood.)

in glory and in ruin: Mulciber/Snape but it's not a main part of it. Basically, a Triwizard Tournament in between the school houses, and Severus gets chosen even though he's only 16. The Marauders and Lily aren't really in it, focuses on Snape's Gang, Charity and Aurora. WIP, and I LOVE it!

The Gryffindor Sort: WIP. Long. In which Severus is a Gryffindor, Lupin is hiding something, Potter and Black are the worst, and there's a Wizarding War about to erupt.

Severus and the Marauders: Long. What if instead of being insulted and excluded from the group, Severus was embraced instead. After all, it was the actions of the group that shaped history from the sidelines. So what if they shaped history a little differently?

That Awful Snape Boy: It had all happened on Wednesday 3rd of September 1973; Minerva committed the date to memory. She would always be amazed that this discussion could happen in the first place. If the boy hadn’t been unconscious, would they even have learnt anything before it was too late?

The Unwanted Boy From Spinner's End: Severus Snape’s existence is a mistake. His mother hints at it often enough with her regretful, drawn-out sighs, while his father prefers to get the message across with a good strapping and a lecture on his worthlessness. Needless to say, the twelve-year-old is not particularly inclined to trust adults, no matter how concerned or caring they claim to be. His life changes abruptly, however, one late evening in September when an illicit brewing session results in a forced trip to the Hogwarts infirmary. Not only is the truth about Severus' home life discovered, but an investigation reveals that shortly prior to his mother’s unexpected death, a single piece of parchment was deposited into her Gringotts vault—a Last Will and Testament in which Eileen Snape née Prince grants guardianship of her son to none other than Albus Dumbledore himself.

To Recollect the Future: Hindsight is 20/20, but when Harry's last steps into the forest set him back further than he'd ever thought, he never realised how grateful he'd be to have Snape there to help too.

Severus' choice: How one choice changed history's course, or the life of Severus Snape from Hogwarts to adulthood if characters were less caricatural, and Voldemort and the Death Eaters were more than bogeymen. This is an AU, events before and after may differ from the books.

the lost generation: The Marauders era at Hogwarts, Voldemort's rise to power and the subsequent war, family loyalties and dishonour, and the struggles of friendship in a difficult time.

Snily:

Come Once Again and Love Me: My favourite Snily fic ever. Snape and Lily time travel back from their individual deaths to when they were still at Hogwarts. Realistic-Lily misses James and Harry and their falling in love is slow burn too. Made me want to cry. I almost liked James!

The Fields of Summer: Short and sad. His past was bleeding into the present, just as his future was bleeding out of the gaping wound in his neck. And since memories were useless to a dead man, Snape plucked them out of his mind and gave them to The Boy Who Lived. He didn’t realize that in so doing, he’d forget her.

seventeen moons: After the werewolf prank. Severus was bitten and Lily figures it out. I hated Sirius so much and he was barely in it but he wasn't villainised-it's just the consequences of his own actions.. Loved the Snily! Short.

Surprising Lessons: Tensions run high between the students of Hogwarts in the time when Severus Snape, Lily Evans, and the Marauders are teenagers. New spells are invented, insults are traded, new bonds form, and unexpected support blooms. Short and sweet.

Vox Severus: SO cute. When Severus Snape's voice changes in fourth year, everyone notices.

Ambiguous: Order member Lily did not have a baby. Death Eater Severus did not hear a prophecy. Consequently, the Dark Lord did not fall. ...but what happens when a long forgotten prophecy suddenly shakes, and flashes through the colours of the spectrum..?

Switching Wands: Severus and Lily acted as best friends should and talked about the Whomping Willow incident. Lily is less than impressed with Potter’s behaviour from that point onward.

Her Slytherin, His Gryffindor: Lily has had enough of James' bullying ways, so she decides to finally take advantage of her Prefect status. Or, in another universe, Lily helps Severus, and they become even closer.

Sweet Root: Lily decides to get Severus drunk one summer night. Angst thereby incurred happily resolves itself into, uh, happiness.

You Don't Bug Me: “Is there any reason you’re half naked in my room?”

Snape/Sirius:

Two Sides: A time travel fic where Severus and Sirius find themselves back on the evening before they graduated Hogwarts. With no idea how and why that happened, they set out to get back to their respective timelines. After all, Sirius has to save Harry at the Minstry of Magic, and Severus needs to tell Potter about the final Horcrux. Right? Too bad that they find themselves back on that evening over and over again. (Personal thoughts: I loved this one, very in character and I loved how they 'fixed' their regrets of the past).

Broken Me Found Broken You: It’s determined that Severus Snape and Sirius Black are immune to punishment after years of near-fatal pranks, bullying, and homemade curses. The only person who thinks them capable of ending the feud and finishing their education is Professor McGonagall. For the summer of ‘77, she gives them a pair of charmed hand mirrors and an ultimatum: communicate. That’s it, a mere ten minutes every Saturday. Back at Hogwarts, when their animosity proves insurmountable, Sirius and Severus are relegated to a small, Eighth Year dormitory. The tight quarters—wandless—are intended to force them to make a peaceful reconciliation, but peace is impossible with a bloody war ramping up inside and outside the castle.

Sorry: Sirius Black decides to make amends for the horrid way he treated Snape when they were teenages. Snape is less than amenable to the idea. (Written around the time of book three/four). Basically, Sirius apologises a lot. And then some fucking.

The Sin in Your Grin (And the Shape of Your Mouth): The Order needed Sirius, but he doubted they'd mourn him very long when he finally disappeared. The first Wizarding war, Snape and Sirius are fucking. Sirius thinks Remus is the spy, Severus tells him otherwise. Canon-compliant: James and Lily die, Peter is the spy. The last line. Shaking.

Dead Reckoning: Severus Snape delivers a potion to Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, holding a twenty-year-old grudge in his heart. He has yearned for revenge for so long—and he will have it. Along with something else he did not ask for.

Beyond The Veil: In one world, Sirius Black ignored Severus Snape's warning and went to the Department of Mysteries to save his godson's life. He died and went beyond the veil. In another world, Sirius Black stayed back. This made all the difference. An AU where Sirius Black survived and now knew Severus Snape's deepest secret.

Rings And Ringing Bells: A bastardisation of a traditional love story. Two men both broken by the world are at wit’s end trying not to kill each other. There’s Severus, a bitter insult who does not take fools lightly, and Sirius, a drunkard who has a habit of pressing his buttons. It involves a curse which forces them to get married, an immaculate conception, and the blurring of the line between hate and love. They fear that they have no control over their lives and are doomed to make the mistakes their parents had done before them. They’re not good for each other, but the fiasco that is their romance may be enough to teach them how to hate each other and themselves a little less.

Always (Come For Me): Snape might have been lying when he said Sirius Black wasn't punished for the prank he had pulled on him. It all started with Sirius having to live with the Snapes for the remainder of his summer...

An Interlude: Set during Order of the Phoenix. Snape comes across Black looking through some of his old school things. Memories are stirred up, grudges are held, old conflicts refuse to be resolved, and new ground might be (dis)covered. A series of conversations in the year before a death.

bite your tongue, go to the funeral: A funeral, a departure, a chance encounter, a war, a funeral (again), a snide remark, and a revival.

Two Boys Kissing: Sirius goes to a gay bar and meets the last person he expects. Under cloudy skies, two boys kiss and that one moment comes to define generations of want, need and hope.

An Occlument Heart: Snape knows that, usually, keeping a secret is the bravest thing you can do. But sometimes the bravest thing is to tell one. Complete. Canon (more or less) up to the start of Book 5, when this story begins.

Found in the Moments Between the Search: When Sirius returns from beyond the Veil with knowledge of Voldemort's Horcruxes, he takes on the task of finding and destroying them. Somewhere along the way he finds an unexpected ally and perhaps something more. (AU from the end of OotP, takes place during HBP period)

Walking the Monochrome: That’s what being a dog is like – it's like you’re walking the very edge of the world, where almost all colour has run out, and you know that should you miss a step, you’ll fall off that edge... Then again, you already know all about it. The edge and the falling.” AU of the first war.

Second Life: What happens when two men are given a second chance.

The Welcoming Feast: Severus opened his eyes and he was suddenly inside Grimmauld Place. His hand flew to his neck. He remembered Nagini biting him, Potter coming to him and then he closed his eyes, expecting death, but instead he was back here.

The Devil-and-All to Pay: Albus Dumbledore is mad. Severus is sure of it, when the old man sends him to persuade Sirius Black to come back to England and let the Order use his family home as headquarters. The problem, as always, is that Severus cannot say no.

Black Out: Snape and Black try something they have never done before. Talking.

eighty-twenty: In seventh year James left Severus for Lily. Best choice he could have ever made. It never would have worked out. Besides, he and Lily are married now, she's pregnant with his soon to be child and Severus...Severus is with Sirius.

First and Last and Always: Severus had his wand. He swallowed hard. His wand. Magic. His only defense, because Black outweighed him by at least three stone. But magic was more than enough. Severus had never needed physical prowess. His magical strength, and the keenness of his mind, gave him the advantage. Except when it didn’t.

Visions of Doom: Severus gets injured in the shrieking shack (his fifth year). While unconscious he witnesses some scenes from his future and realizes becoming a death eater wouldn’t bring him power and glory but pain and servitude. He spends the rest of his schooling trying to shape a different future for himself.

Anything by FabulaRasa on AO3.

Remus/Snape:

Fuel the Pyre of Your Enemies: A paired class assignment for Astronomy incites a mutually beneficial agreement between Remus Lupin and Severus Snape. An exploration of sexuality and friendships. (One of my favourite Snupin fics, really realistic. Also no evil!peter).

where the wolfsbane blooms: Remus and Severus friendship, and then more. 7000 words-short but sweet. Severus tries to cure the lycanthropy. James is constantly befuddled.

Have Your Cake and Eat It: Remus POV. Long. Incredible. Changed my world view. I cried with Remus at the end. Still kind of happy! Time travel fic. Remus lives. Realistic for the characters and especially for the seventies (although lowkey Remus is too woke for the nineties why does he know the word heteronormative). I loved Sirius in this one. Lying in hospital after the Battle of Hogwarts, Remus Lupin has a lovely lucid dream that he's gone back to his school days at Hogwarts. Only the day passes, then another, and another, and soon he must face the terrifying possibility that it isn't a dream — that he has irreparably altered the events of the past. Cunegonde is SO good!

DELOCAPONUM: 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝟏𝟗𝟖𝟏. A new acquaintance to the territory of teaching, an old friend to grief and misfortune, and entirely off on the wrong foot, twenty-one-year-old Professor Severus Snape reverts to an old charm of his — a charm for things that are lost — in attempt to find the one book in which he wrote it. But when the spell starts working against him and mysterious things start happening to his own students, it seems he has no choice but to form an alliance with an old schoolyard enemy in order to find a culprit, a book, and his own identity. And one thing is for certain: the irritating charm of Remus Lupin is nearly impossible to refuse.

Creature Comforts: A classic! Remus and Severus are paired to work together in Care of Magical Creatures in 6th year. Neither one is too happy with the arrangement at first.

That Awful Boy: CLASSIC! Severitus. Petunia lets slip a twenty-year-old secret, and Harry is sent to Spinner's End to study Occlumency early. Severus Snape can see no way in which this could end in catastrophe.

Not Really Here: After the werewolf prank, Severus disappears. He’s still at Hogwarts—at least, he thinks he is—and he’s probably still alive, but no one can see or hear him. Except for Lupin. Remus, meanwhile, is avoiding the other Marauders—as well as everyone else—and Snape becomes the sole exception to his self-appointed isolation. As they work together to look for answers about Severus’ condition, the unlikely pair drift toward friendship. But building a relationship of any kind presents a challenge when neither of them is sure Severus exists at all. I've only read this once but I love it. No Marauders bashing, but no pretending they're saints either. And they have a pretty big part but obvs Snupin is at the forefront.

The Heir to the House of Prince: Harry is the main character and the main ship is Harry and Theo. While Snupin is secondary it's pretty central. Summer of 4th year and Harry's all alone, dealing with his grief and the sudden revelation that James Potter is not his father. Support comes in a strange form. The form of Theo Nott, son of a death Eater. A strange friend who says he'll help him find his true father, whoever this Lord Prince might be. Technically Snily ig? But not really.

Sight Unseen: After losing his sight during the Battle of Hogwarts, Remus struggles to adjust to his new circumstances; when depression threatens to overwhelm him, he receives unexpected assistance from an unknown source.

The Other Side of The Mirror: In sixth year, Remus Lupin nearly killed Severus Snape in wolf form. Miraculously, Severus escaped unharmed. But what if he hadn't?

The Meaning of Mistletoe: What was going on was that Severus Snape had no trouble tracking down one Petunia Evans, now Dursley, to a little town in Surrey where he saw how exactly she was treating her nephew. Which somehow led to last night and Severus knocking on Lupin’s door with a toddler half-asleep in his arms.

Spymaster: Former spymaster and one time headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry Severus Snape left the house just once a week on a Tuesday. Wherein Snape wears tracksuit pants and smokes too many cigarettes and Lupin is into it.

Well They're No Friends Of Mine: Whenever his friends pull a prank on Snape, Remus always looks the other way. But what if there's another option?

The Other Side of the Mirror: I haven't read this, but it's a 'what if Remus bit Snape.' 60000 words.

Artemisa Absinthium: The Rat and the Snake: AU set during the First Wizarding War. Severus has defected from the Dark Lord, and become a double agent for Dumbledore. When he learns of an informant it sends the Order into disaray. Can he uncover the identity of the traitor before his own true loyalty is revealed? What price is he willing to pay for his redemption? And can a man like Severus Snape ever be worthy of love?

Capnolagnia: Three times Remus caught Severus Snape smoking.

About Wolves and Snakes: Unfinished. Remus Lupin woke up being fifteen years old again, having no idea how or why. Upon learning that he could not return, he decided that he would try to change the way things happened.

One Thousand Galleons: It's been six years since Remus Lupin, age 25, left England after the death of his father and the slow dissolving of his friendship with the Marauders. A letter from James finds him in Canada at an opportune time, asking him to come home to meet his soon-to-be-born son. Remus never expected that his time away would give him the perfect resume for teaching at Hogwarts, nor did he expect that his return would spark both conflict and resolution. If only he could get the Potion's Professor to understand how sorry he is for the way things turned out. “What is the price for your forgiveness?” --- “One Thousand Galleons.”

Living Legend: Marauders-era fic, Snape decides he needs some "hands-on" experience and chooses Remus as his very special study partner. But there's more to these extracurricular activities than meets the eye.

Lily's Boy: With help from unexpected places, Harry starts on a journey to end the war, and reshape the wizarding world. With how much he looks like James Potter, people have forgotten one important thing about him - he is Lily Evans' son, and she was one hell of a witch. Side Snupin.

It's Not Over Til It's Done: Unfinished. Severus did not expect to survive the Second Wizarding War, but survive he did. Remus didn't either, yet due to unforeseen circumstances, Remus finds himself taking care of Severus in the wake of surviving Nagini's venom.

Ten Aprils: Severus must find a way for Harry to defeat Voldemort. Remus must find a way for Severus to free himself from the past. The Dark Lord is about to attack Hogwarts, and Harry needs to get over his rage, hate and despair in order to learn to summon the phoenix needed to defeat Voldemort. Snape must find the answers, then teach Harry how. In the next thirty minutes. Like it would ever happen.

A Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love: A story in which Severus Snape is unable to sleep; a certain werewolf is impersonating Celestina Warbek and cauldrons are used as prevention, sort of.

the week that changed it all: It’s Christmas break in Remus’ 6th year of Hogwarts. Sadly, his parents aren’t home so he has to stay over at Lily’s house for the week. He makes a discovery he didn’t know was possible. The first one was that apparently, Severus lived not far away, the second one was that he started to like the boy.

A Prince By Early Frost: While preparing his chamber for the Philosopher’s Stone, Severus encounters the dark fae borne by a black glass mirror, buried deep beneath the castle. He is chosen, but unsure by what, until over a year later, when a figure from his dreams takes the Defense position, asking for a favor.

Chocolate Cake and Other Intimacies: Remus Lupin is spending his birthday alone in the hospital wing. Severus brings him his homework to cheer him up.

That Awful Snape Boy: It had all happened on Wednesday 3rd of September 1973; Minerva committed the date to memory. She would always be amazed that this discussion could happen in the first place. If the boy hadn’t been unconscious, would they even have learnt anything before it was too late? Guardian fic but Snape is the ward in this one. AU set in the Marauders Era. Rated T to be safe.

Basically anything by McKay on AO3.

Snape/James:

Knowledge of the Gods: Severus was either in a coma and dying, already dead and trapped in some purgatory, completely and utterly insane, or living in the body of his past self. And, perhaps most suspiciously, why did James Potter keep looking at him like that?!

A Touch, A Kiss, A Whisper of Love: After Severus Snape and James Potter find themselves stuck in an awkward detention together, an unlikely friendship forms. As their newfound friendship develops, James discovers something new about himself while Severus tries to fight his growing attraction to the Gryffindor boy.

Cake, Please!: Slight SA gives me the ick, but vaguely fun to read. A story of blackmail, the wonderful world of sexuality, and lots of cake.

Revenge is Sweet: A teenage Snape plots his revenge on James Potter for making his life hell, but little does he know that James has plans of his own that will send both their lives spiraling irrevocably out of control.

Ninety-Three: James promises Severus that if Severus has sex with him 93 times, he will break up with Lilly and advocate that she date Severus.

Absolution: What is it that draws James to Severus? A disease? A curse? A secret wish... a need? Try as he might to ignore the Slytherin, in the end, to Severus is where James always finds himself. **SLOW BUILD** Rated M for... certain kinds of scenes later on.

The Dreamer in the Well: James got the girl....finally. She even stopped being friends with Severus, whom he absolutely hated. But one day, his curiosity changes everything.

Love Is Strange: At the start of his sixth year, James Potter decides to finally stop ruining Severus' life. His friends agree to stop the bullying but what they do not know is the reason why James decided to put an end to it. They think he just matured or grew tired of it but the truth is a little more complicated than that.

A Fickle Thing: James Potter's marriage is failing- What a perfect time to disguise himself as a muggle, follow Severus Snape to what is either a makeshift dance club or a party for gay muggles, and then do a series of things he really should not do.

Rise: Severus Snape was tired of his fate, to be a lowly snake. Luckily, fate was kind to him this time and the arrival of a tournament had come. It was a spur of the moment kind of thing, a moment of weakness and strength that led Severus to put his name in the Goblet of Fire. But he was chosen now, and he had no choice but to play in the game, maybe he will live or die, but either way he wasn't going to become what everyone said he would be.

Apocrypha: Two can keep a secret, if one of the two is dead.

Norwegian Wood (This Bird Has Flown): Long, loved it, well written. James Potter starts his seventh year with a secret. He has amazing friends, Sirius is always right by his side, Lily is finally starting to warm up to him. His life is an endless cycle of partying and drinking. So what if the Wizarding World is on the precipice of war? So what if Severus Snape has disappeared from Hogwarts? That's not James's problem. Life is beautiful, and even if it's all an illusion he wants to hold on to that dream for just a little bit longer.

Colours of Redemption: Severus Snape was meant to die. Instead he was placed into hell. Trapped in timeloops, Severus tries to make sense of the future knowledge he suddenly had. If he made one bad move, everything is reset for him to try again. Being placed into a new house and everyone being nice to him, Severus is doing his best but it is hard. Especially when James Potter is noticing him in a different way.

Goeey Melting Hearts: In their 5th year James, Sirius and Remus over hear a conversation that makes them reconsider their opinions of the ‘future Death Eaters’. The Marauders stop bullying, but guilt eats at James until he decides to apologize. That summer James tracks down Severus, but sees something that crushes him.

Regulus/Snape:

Burning Doves: The first Snape/Regulus I ever read. Regulus needs help with potions and Snape tutors him. Not much Marauders, they're just offscreen assholes. Narcissa and Severus friendship which I always enjoy. It's done, but I haven't finished it yet. Whoops.

Severus and Snape: Severus Snape finds Lily dead in Godric's Hollow, her son's screams echoing in his ears, and decides to end his life with hers. Fate has other ideas. Next thing he knows, he's facing an 11-year-old Lily Evans, on their way to their first year at Hogwarts.

Snape & or / Narcissa:

Seven Days: Severus knows a lot can happen in seven days. Slash.

Living A Lie:  All of her life, Narcissa Black has had to live as the perfect lady, and witch; to never reveal one's inner heart, nor ever go against the wishes of one's family. After being forced into an engagement she does not want during her sixth year at Hogwarts, Narcissa has kept the desires of her heart on ice; particularly, for a wizard her family would never in a million years have approved of: Severus Snape. Even after the birth of her son Draco, she has harbored these desires deep in her heart for the enigmatic Potions Master. But when she comes to Spinners End to ask Severus to watch over Draco at the start of the school term of 1997, she finds that she cannot keep her heart on ice for the wizard of her dreams any longer...

What Lies Beneath: "Please, Professor, I saw him-I saw Snape," Harry said, struggling to breathe, "he's hurt...we've got to find him-we've got to find him right now or he's going to die!" Severus Snape's redemption story told in the span of three books from multiple perspectives.

Snape/Others:

Redemption: Severus died that night at the hands of the Dark Lord, the man he "worked" for and was "loyal", at least that's what the Lord believed him to be, an impeccable servant.  Even so, he ended up dying for his master's snake.  He knew it would happen, he was sure his time was coming, just like the manipulative old goat's plan. However, what would he do when he found out that he wasn't the only one who had the memories of his past life?  How would his life turn out?  Better or worse?

Breaking the Mould: Everyone knew Severus' future. Everyone knew he'd become a death eater, maybe get his mastery in potions and eventually die at his master's hand. But what if they didn't know Severus as well as they thought they did? Rather than conform to the role people expected him to play, Severus takes action. During 6th year he leaves Hogwarts, joining an apprenticeship overseas that guarantees not only a future but his own happiness. Meanwhile the Marauders (minus Peter) are left regretting what can never be. They each had a secret, something none of them were willing to admit. Only now it's too late. But what happens when Severus re-emerges during the war? Not a death eater, not a teacher even. But a strong, independent and most importantly a free man. How will the marauders react?

Dinner and a Show: James takes Lily out to dinner, an unhappy evening made more difficult by the arrival of Severus and Lucius Malfoy at a nearby table.

Snape & Others: 

O Mine Enemy: Severitus, long. When Harry finds an injured Snape on his doorstep and must hide him from the Dursleys, he has no idea that this very, very bad day will be the start of something good. Alternate 6th summer (and part of the school year): post-OotP; ignores HBP and DH. No slash, no romance. NOW COMPLETE!

I Know Not, and I Cannot Know; Yet I Live and I Love: Severus Snape has his emotions in check. He knows that he experiences anger and self-loathing and a bitter yearning, and that he rarely deviates from that spectrum… Until the first-year Luna Lovegood arrives to his class wearing a wreath of baby’s breath. Over the next six years, an odd friendship grows between the two, and Snape is not sure how he feels about any of it.

Second Life: What happens when two men are given a second chance. Snape & Sirius. 

Not Entirely Tedious: Young Professor Severus Snape shows up for a meeting, but the only other person there is the Deputy Headmistress. He wants to leave and return later, after the other participants will have arrived, but Professor McGonagall explains why that is impossible. Cross about having his plans for the day disrupted for a meeting that’s not taking place, Snape resents having to spend the afternoon with McGonagall. She doesn’t seem very pleased, either, but is content to relax and wait. Snape isn’t so patient, and soon manages to annoy his companion.

The Young Potions Professor: The staff avoided him like the plague, ignored him, or straight up left when he went into the staff room. And the worst thing was that they didn't even try to hide their collective disgust for him. If he got into the staff room in the morning and any of them were there, they would immediately get up and go sit on the furthest side of the room, as far from him as possible.

Slytherin Career Day: The student of Slytherin House were born with everything: wealth, prestige and pure wizarding blood. Now it's Severus Snape's job to help them find the one thing they don't have: careers.

In Another Lifetime: HP AU. In a world where Tom Riddle was slaughtered, the wizarding wars did not occur, and Albus Dumbledore promoted peace in Hogwarts, Lily Evans and Severus Snape did the impossible: they remained lifelong friends. Snape meets his potential, and has a shot at happiness along the way.

immortalists with points to prove: The Snape kid is hardly a hero. Then again, neither is Alastor.

[bat-boys]

forever, my love

pairing: Azriel x fem reader

word count: 4.3k

warnings: 18+, mentions of battle and war, references to depression, smut (fingering) but it's romantic, angst but also fluff.

summary: you and Azriel had seen many battles over the centuries but when something goes wrong and has a lasting impact on you, Az promises to take care of you.

a/n: thank you so much for the love on the first fic! here's another one! I promise next time I'll write something happier haha, suggestions are welcome! I hope you enjoy.

The cruel, unyielding symphony of battle swelled in you as you continued to swing your sword at the enemies in front of you. Grunts of pain and screams of frustration left your lips as you continued to carve a path through the soldiers in your way, desperately trying to hold the line as Cassian had commanded. 

Your body moved automatically, thanks to the centuries of muscle memory drilled into you from the intense training and the many battlefields you had found yourself on during your long life. In recent decades, you may have taken a step back from helping to command the Night Court armies and turned your attention to training the next legion of warriors and aiding your spymaster in more covert missions. Still, your body would always remember the steps needed in battle. It would never shrink from charging head first.

Once, you had been told you were beautiful to watch in battle—second only to Cassian himself as you danced your way through enemy hordes. But now, as you cut through another bottleneck of soldiers, you could only focus on keeping yourself alive, so you were extremely exhausted. 

Step, swing, push, slash, pivot, hit. 

As you managed to gut the last soldier in front of you, you allowed yourself a small moment of reprieve to collect your thoughts and take a gulp of air. The sound of battle raged around you, and you could faintly see your friends and allies around you, diligently fighting for a future you had only just battled for a mere handful of years ago. You sent a pulse down that precious thread, tucked deep within your heart and nodded your head in relief when you felt a responding pulse from the male on the other end. Alive. He was still alive. That's all that mattered at the moment. 

You heard a shout close beside you and watched an Illyrian soldier, who had been grounded due to semi-shredded wings, fight off a group of soldiers starting to swarm around him. Taking a deep breath, you sheathed your long blade and palmed the knives strapped to either thigh.

Winnow, slash. Winnow, stab. Winnow, swing. Your High Lady herself had taught you this particular move after you had seen her yourself face enemies from a different war, a different conflict. You kept the image of your friends smiling at Feyre as she had embarrassingly walked you through how she did it, blushing furiously at your instance in teaching you at the forefront of your mind, and you continued to dance to the sound of the battle's symphony. 

That was the future you continued to fight for, and you were determined to protect it. 

…

Your entire body heaved as you shoved your blade through the chest of the last soldier in front of you. The sounds of battle were quietening and dying out as the last of the enemy horde were tied up or killed. 

A groan left your lips as you yanked your blade free and used the last of your power and strength to winnow to the edge of the battlefield. You stumbled as you landed, cursing yourself for letting your power drain so thoroughly during battle. Az would chastise you about that later. Speaking of which…

Where are you? You sent down the bond, waiting for the familiar calm voice to reach your mind. A frown fell on your face as the minutes stretched past, and you didn't hear a response from him. 

Az? 

You refused to panic just yet. While this was unusual, you knew the moments after a battle was the most crucial for a spymaster as he gathered up defeated enemies to spirit them away for interrogation. He was probably just busy, you reasoned with yourself.

But a small part of your brain also whispered that he always kept the precious channel between you both open and always responded when you called. 

You trudged through the mud towards the huge fortress in front of you. It may have been dilapidated and crumbling, but it provided a place where Rhys could gather his allies and forces and not be constantly caked in dirt and mud from his war camp. Once, it had probably been beautiful, home to some illustrious High Fae family, but now it was home to tired soldiers and had clearly seen much better days. 

Azriel. You tried again to reach your mate through the bond, your heart thundering louder in your chest when you didn't receive a response. This time, you stretched your consciousness along that bridge…and slammed into a cold stone wall on the other end. Panic began to claw up your throat, but you refused to give in. He was probably busy with Rhys or Cassian; you desperately tried to reason with yourself as you sheathed your heavy blade into the scabbard strapped to your back and walked up the stone steps to the bustling entrance of the fortress. 

"Injured that way, please!" You heard the familiar voice of your High Lady directing her people from inside the entrance. She turned around, and you saw her face relax in relief as she spotted you, "Y/N. Oh, thank the cauldron, you're alright." 

Feyre was wearing her Illyrian leathers, her hair windswept and looking just as tired as you felt. She walked towards you, and you hugged her tightly, grateful to see one of your dearest friends safe and sound. You gently manoeuvred around the bow strapped to her back as she hugged you back just as fiercely. Much to everyone's surprise and yours and Rhys' amusement after the war with Hybern Feyre had mastered the notoriously tough Illyrian bow - why anyone doubted her after her past in the human realm you were still confused by. You had seen her sweeping over the battlefield today and dispatching enemies, saving your life more times than you cared to admit. Her flying wasn't strong enough to join in with the Illyrian legions yet, but she had become invaluable on the battlefield once again.

"You looked awesome up there today." You both grinned at each other, warriors recognising each other, "where is everyone?"

"Amren and Mor are in the war chamber, exhausted but ok. Cassian was dropping off a soldier to the hospital wing."

"Az?"

"I thought he was with you?" A quick shake of your head had her face falling, "Ok, he's probably busy with clean up - let me see if Rhys can reach him."

"Thank you," you whispered, and she squeezed your shoulder and kissed your cheek before going back to directing people coming through the entrance. 

You jumped as you felt a bigger, wider hand fall on your shoulder but relaxed when you turned to see Cassian grinning down at you. Not the Illyrian warrior you were desperate to see but still a fucking welcome sight. 

"You saved our asses out there, as usual, tiny angry one." You rolled your eyes at the nickname he had given you hundreds of years ago as you let him pull you into a bone-crushing hug. 

"Glad to see you survived another battle, General, and without getting yourself torn to shreds."

"Yeah, yeah, shut up you." He teased as he gently pushed your shoulder. You may be Az's right-hand woman with his spy network now, but you were Cassian's second in command first. A formidable warrior whose name struck fear into your enemy's hearts, renowned for being utterly ruthless in combat and undefeated. How long ago it now felt when you and Cassian had first led the armies in that war hundreds of years ago.

"Have you seen Az?" You hated how quiet your voice sounded, but you struggled to keep the panic at bay. 

"No," Cass frowned, "is he still out there?"

"I don't know, I can't reach him." You whispered, and immediately you felt Cassian shift, ready to head back out there and find his brother - could see the panic that settled in his eyes at the thought of finding him dead on the battlefield.

"Let's not panic yet. We'll go find Rhys, and we can set up a patrol-"he continued to talk to you, laying out a plan before you, but you couldn't hear him. Couldn't hear over the sound of your own panic as you tried to not give in to the fear that was eating away at your heart. You absolutely refused to even think for a minute that he was dead. But why was the bond cold? Why hadn't he gotten in touch, and why hadn't anyone seen him since the battle ended?

You turned your head to the side, ready to throw up the small amount of food you had choked down earlier, when-

Y/N! You froze as you heard a familiar roar and couldn't place if it was something you had heard echoed around the stone room or through that precious bond you shared. 

Immediately, you turned from Cassian toward the sound of that shout, and your knees nearly buckled when you finally spotted Azriel walking through the fortress's entrance, bathed in his shadows. 

His eyes were wild as he scanned the room, looking for you. His hair was matted to his sweaty forehead, blood coated his face, and he was stalking forward with a slight limp. But he was alive. Alive.

"Az." You had barely whispered his name, but you watched as his eyes snapped to you, and something broke in his carefully carved facade as his gaze took you in. Pure, undiluted, raw relief settled on his face as he realised you were still here, unhurt and standing. 

Sobbing, you left your friend behind and ran towards your mate. He just stopped where he stood and held his arms out, catching you as you barrelled into him. He rocked ever so slightly back as he caught you, a testament to the exhaustion seeping through his body, but you felt that primal part of you that had been thrashing around your heart ease as his arms circled around you tightly and he buried his head in your hair - breathing you in.

"I thought I had lost you." You sobbed as you pushed your face into his neck, breathing in that comforting smell of night-chilled mist and cedar.

"I know, baby, I know." His beautiful, scarred hands gently stroked down your blood-soaked and matted hair as he continued to mumble, "I'm here. I'm safe. We're safe."

"What happened?" you asked as you pulled away ever so slightly from his body, letting your feet hit the unforgiving stone floor. Azriel's face was so tender, so soft, as his hands came up to cup your face. You watched, giving him a minute to scan your face for any injuries. A sigh left his lips when he noticed that you were largely unharmed apart from the usual cuts and scraps from battle. 

"Faebane," he muttered darkly, and you gasped. "One of the soldiers had some and threw it on my face when I got close. Clearly, they haven't got much, and it's a diluted solution leftover from the war with Hybern as it cleared quite quickly, but still…this is something we now have to factor in."

"I couldn't feel you down the bond." Your voice hitched.

"I couldn't feel you either, sweetheart, I didn't know if you still breathed. I was so scared." Another sob slipped through your lips, one of sadness but also one of relief as you gripped his Illyrian leathers and pulled him closer - unable to stand any distance between you. You rose up on your shaky legs and pressed your lips to his.

The kiss wasn't sweet or tender; it was demanding and all-consuming. It was a kiss between two mates who had been terrified that after their years of searching, they had lost each other. You felt the rumble of Azriel's moan as you tilted your head to get better access to his lips. His hand reached up to cup your head to hold you in place as he licked into your mouth, and his arm snapped around you as your legs finally gave out and caught you before you sank to the floor. 

You broke away gently, not going far as you rested your foreheads together. Your bodies heaved as you sucked in air for what felt like the first time since the battle ended. You closed the distance again to press your lips to his again, once, twice, thrice.

"I can't do this anymore, Az." You whispered, tears slipping down your face. Tears that Azriel captured with his thumbs as he looked at you with such devastation, "the wars, the battles, not knowing whether our friends are alive, not knowing if you are still alive. I have never felt so old."

"I know, sweetheart. I know." 

You both sighed as you felt the soldier hovering near you, waiting to catch your attention. Once, you would have known every soldier's name, but now you just had a vague recollection of his face. "Azriel. Y/N. I'm sorry to interrupt, but Rhysand has requested your presence."

Az pulled away slightly to nod at the soldier, who offered you both a respectful salute before leaving. You felt his scarred hand drift down your arm to grip your hand. You felt his squeeze, and you squeezed back, "Come on, love, let's go get this over with, and then let me take care of you."

…

The fortress was quieter now, as if everyone was holding their breath, waiting for the next attack; the next moment, you would all be dragged out onto the battlefield again to face your enemies. You and Az had been stuck in meetings for hours after that initial reunion, and you had felt so hollow as your friends recounted what they saw throughout the day, the tactics the enemies were using and how you stood a chance at defeating them once and for all if you hold strong. You hadn't let go of Az's hand the entire time, only letting go once he had told his story about the faebane and he had seen tears slipping down your cheeks again and had pulled you into his arms. 

A sadness clanged through your chest as you watched all of your friends that afternoon once the allies from other courts had left for their own war camps. Even through the exhaustion, the court of dreamers was still fighting, even though you had all been on the battlefield in a different war only a handful of years ago.

Azriel had made good on his promise. The minute Rhys commanded you to rest, Azriel gripped your cold hand and pulled you towards the room down the hall you were sharing. Immediately, he had asked a passing soldier to grab you a plate of food, something warm, before strolling into the room and firmly closing the door behind him. With such gentle hands, he had taken your frozen body and sat you down on the impressive four-poster bed in the centre of the room, your body sinking deeply into the comfy mattress. 

He firmly pressed a loving kiss to your forehead before moving away to stoke the fire that someone had forethought to start while you were in meetings. Once satisfied, he quickly looked back over his shoulder at you - to check you were ok - before moving into the expansive bathing chamber. You could hear his footsteps on the tiled floor and the water gushing out of the taps into the large bathtub, but you couldn't stop the fear from clawing up your throat. Panic began to settle in again because he was out of sight.

What your enemies would think at the mighty Y/N reduced to this quivering mess.

Just as you couldn't take the roaring in your head anymore, at the nausea swirling in your stomach, and were about to get up to run to his arms again, Azriel stepped back into the room. You must have been shouting down the bond again because he had a soft, sad look on his face. 

"I'm here, sweetheart." A whimper left your lips as you flew from the bed into his arms again, unable to get enough of the feeling of him, of being safe with him. His hand skated up and down your spine again, mumbling soothing words and pressing his lips into your hair: "I've drawn you a warm bath; come on."

You hadn't realised how much you had been shivering or how long you had been cold until the idea of settling into warm water felt so appealing. He smiled at you as he took your hands and guided you into the large bathing chamber. The bathtub sat in the middle of the room, large enough for not only you but also to accommodate wings, you realised. A soft smile fell on your lips at the thought.

In a comfortable silence that you and Az had always been able to enjoy, he gently began to unbuckle your damp and blood-encrusted leathers. With slow, methodical movements, he pulled the material from your body before throwing it into a basket in the corner of the room. You watched, your breathing shallow as Az ran his soft fingers up the exposed skin of your arms before hooking under the strap of your bra and removing it carefully from your body. Only then did his fingers skate down the soft valley of your breasts, over your abdomen, before slipping underneath the waistband of your underwear and slipping them down your thighs. Az had seen you in every state and had marked every inch of your skin with his lips and tongue, but this moment, him undressing you as you tried desperately to keep yourself from shattering, was the most intimate thing you had shared. It was warm and sweet, flecked with starlight.

That same warm smile was still on his lips as he took your hand and guided you into the warm water in the bathtub. An appreciative groan left your lips as your feet, legs, and body were submerged in comforting, warm water. 

You turned around and grinned at your mate as you watched him unbuckle his own leathers and shuck them off his body. You couldn't help gazing appreciatively at his body, that body you also knew as well as your own: the proud contours of his shoulders, the toned muscles of his arms, his chiselled abdomen, the thick, powerful thighs. He truly was sculpted by the gods themselves. 

Az silently padded over to the bathtub, slipping into the warm water himself before resting against one end and gently slipping his arm around your waist to pull you against him - your back pressed tightly against his chest. 

With a gentleness that you know would shock so many people, he reached to grab the washcloth and soap from the side before he lathered them up and softly washed the mud and blood from your body. He took his time, kneading his hands into your aching muscles. He even undid your tattered braid and carefully washed the blood and dirt from your hair. The moment was so loving and beautiful after what happened earlier in the day that you couldn't help the tears that silently slipped from your eyes and tracked down your cheeks. 

Once you were both clean, he pulled you flush against his chest again, letting you lean against him with your eyes closed as you enjoyed the feeling of being this close to him in the warm water. You idly traced the scars on his hand underneath the water where it was resting against your stomach whilst his other hand slid up and down your thigh, over your hip and up your body.

"I love you, Az." You whispered into the soft silence that had settled between you.

"I love you too, baby." You felt him press a kiss to your temple.

After today, after the horrors you had seen, after the panic that had coursed through your veins, you needed to feel something more. He wasn't close enough; you needed to feel him. Without saying a word, you lifted your free hand to gently grip the hand that was trailing up and down your body, stopping it in its lazy movements to slowly place it closer to that now throbbing part of you at the apex of your thighs. 

"Sweetheart?" He questioned quietly. You could sense through the bond his willingness to touch you and feel his want with the way his erection was pressed against your lower back. But he needed to check that you really wanted this and that he wouldn't overstep some line, especially after today. 

"Please, Az. I need you." You whimpered as you felt his slender fingers skim along your inner thigh.

"Relax, sweetheart, let me make you feel good." He rumbled against you as he gently began to press kisses under your ear, at that sweet spot he had found on that first night all those years ago. Your chest heaved as you felt his calloused fingertips trace up your thigh, over the curve of your hip, and along your bikini line before sensually slipping down to trace your slit.

A soft hiss escaped your lips at the feeling of his fingers so close to where you needed him most, a whimpering, "Please," leaving your lips as he chuckled behind you. His breath ghosted over the shell of your ear and caused a shiver to run down your spine. 

"I have worshipped your body for centuries, love," Azriel murmured, his strong nose nudging the side of your head so he could begin placing open-mouthed, hot kisses down your neck, "and I never get tired of hearing those noises you make when I touch you." 

You whined softly when Azriel moved his hand, but it was quickly silenced when you felt him suck on the soft flesh between your neck and shoulder as his strong hand gripped your thigh to move it to the outside of his so he had better access to you. 

One of his slender fingers returned to your centre and traced your slit once again before gently swirling around that bundle of nerves. A curse ripped from your lips as your hips bucked at the contact, and another primal chuckle rumbled up Azriel's chest at your delicious reaction. 

Azriel continued to swirl his finger ever so gently over your clit, every now and then applying the smallest amount of pressure and causing a sharp cry to leave your lips as white-hot pleasure shot up your body. It wasn't enough; he was teasing, and you needed your body to shatter in a way you were familiar with.

"Use your words, love. Tell me what you need." You could practically hear the smirk in his voice, and if you weren't wound up so tightly, you might have called him out on it. 

"Your fingers, Az. Please." You whimpered.

"Because you asked so nicely." He mumbled into your skin as he gently slid one finger into your core. A sharp cry left your lips at the feeling of those scars creating the most delicious friction against your walls. 

He set a slow but deep pace as he pumped his finger inside you, his thumb still drawing figures of eight on your clit. You could feel the pleasure building inside of you, your toes curling as you felt Azriel taking you higher and higher. His hand that you had been gripping, resting against your stomach, slid up your body to cup your breast. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as he expertly rolled your nipples between his fingers and tweaked them in the way he knew you liked. You could feel that familiar crest of your orgasm approaching, and he had barely touched you. So expertly knew your body. You threw your head back against his shoulder, unable to do much but go limp against him. 

"I love you so much, Y/N." He whispered, and you turned to face him and saw that raw emotion on his face again, an emotion that mirrored yours. As he slipped another finger inside you, curling his fingers to reach that spongy spot inside of you that had you seeing stars, you reached up to grip his hair and press your lips to his. 

You felt him grin against you as you kissed him, your hips undulating and rolling against his fingers to meet his lazy thrusts. The kiss was full of teeth and passion, and you felt the rising tide of your pleasure as you writhed against him. A cry left your lips as you felt yourself reaching the top of the wave, your mind turning foggy and hips bucking sloppily as you felt your orgasm approaching. 

"Let go, love, cum for me." His words, whispered lowly in your ear, his tone dripping lust and awe, and the soft thrust he gave behind you that had you feeling how much he was enjoying seeing you like this, caused that band in your body to snap and the pleasure he had been slowly building crest and shatter. Pure, white, hot pleasure sparked throughout your body, sending every nerve-ending alight as your orgasm washed over you. Chants of his name left his lips as your back arched and your hips thrashed as he continued to pump his fingers deliciously inside you.

After what felt like hours, the wave of pleasure began to subside and be replaced with a bone-deep satisfaction. A sigh left your lips as you slumped back against your mate, his arms catching you - as they always did - and pulling you close to him. You felt Azriel mumbling your name whilst pressing soft kisses to your temple, cheek and jawline. 

"Rest, love. There will be time for more later. I promise." It was that promise you clung to as you rested against your mate and let your body relax in the cooling water of the bath. 

[losersiren]

I really enjoyed your Regency Era yandere story! I would love to see a second part where he earns her affection back and proposes!

Notes: AH, THANK YOU! Maybe, in the future, I'll write a whole fic about Ambrose proposing. But for now, here's how his proposal would go from the top of my head.

Yandere! Lord, who, after months of courting, piles of love letters that made the mail coach dread delivering to your estate and taking you out on many splendid and lavish outings of carriage rides throughout every road in the city, afternoon tea that was filled to the brim with treats only royalty could enjoy, and lovely walks along the pier. And, of course, secret rendezvous in the nearby forest away from the public’s scrutiny eye where you both could be yourselves. He decides to ask your father for your hand in marriage, and as the words of approval leave your father’s mouth, he's out the door! 

Yandere lord! Who, if it were his idea, would’ve asked for your hand way earlier. Yet, he was a patient man for you and waited for you to fall for him entirely, and when you dropped subtle hints about desiring an engagement, he immediately marched to your father. 

Yandere! Lord, who already had your engagement ring prepared years beforehand, even when he was abroad. It was a valuable little thing. It wasn’t just a big stone on a gold ring; no, it was made carefully with thought. The ring is engraved, and it is not just one heavy gem– it is a large jewel surrounded by other smaller ones. Each placement was placed for a purpose. 

Yandere Lord! Who announced the news to his father one evening and when The Earl rejected the idea entirely. He didn’t take that very well. It’s a shame his father became bedridden; it was almost as if someone repeatedly throughout these past days put drops of strychnine in his meals. It's a pity that his father won't attend his wedding, but alas, what can you do?

Yandere! Lord Who plans your proposal meticulously, ensuring everything goes soothingly and accordingly. He decided to propose when you both would but off in the forest. It was late at night near a small lake, a picnic laid out with your favourite foods, desserts, and drinks. The fireflies (which he anticipated to appear) decorate the small area, setting the mood more than any candlelight could; the small body of water is graced with a layer of blooming water lilies.

Yandere! Lord, when your back is turned away from him, gazing at the beautiful flowers in the water and complementing the scenery. He kneels on one knee, holding the ring box towards you. When you suspect something is in the midst because of how silent the loud-mouthed lord is, you turn to face him, only to be met with his sincere yet vulnerable gaze.

Ambrose delicately says your name. “You’ve bewitched me, body and soul, if you’ll only grant me the honour to become your devoted companion in this life and more by allowing me to become your husband.”

“Will you marry me, My sweet?”

End notes: Ambrose's dad is getting reversibly traumatized by his own son....

[xoxoavenger]

Can I request wolverine x reader where both of them were madly in love with each other, but reader was unfortunately by one of the sentanails (mutant killing robots), absolutely wreaking him. Then, he went back in time and when he gets to the mansion, and meets past reader (let’s say she also have longevity like Logan) who doesn’t know him at this point and taken of guard. When he’s trying to convince Charles that he’s from the future and needs his help and Charles is being stubborn and gets a little heated, reader is trying to calm things down and try to get everyone on the same page

so sorry this took literally forever. it was partly bc of how busy I was and partly bc I was afraid to write it, having such a popular dofp fic already (literally my fic with the most notes 😅)

Missing

pairing: Logan x Fem!Reader

word count: 2719

warnings: major character death (in the request but just in case), cannon typical violence and talk of violence

masterlist

Logan should have known this was coming.

His luck is shit. It always has been. For a hundred years now, he's felt like everything he touches goes to shit.

And then met Y/N.

She she wasn't shit. She was kind, smooth where he was rough, fitting him in all the right places. He was scared for awhile, afraid that it was too good to be true - her mutant ability being the projection of light. This power, the power of light, caused her to age slower. Charles had tried to explain it, multiple times in fact, but Logan was so lost every time that he just gave up eventually on trying to understand. All he knew was she aged slowly, just like he did, which means they could be together without him having the ever-present fear of watching her grow old.

He just never expected her to die.

He had known this was always a risk. She knew it too. And he also knew that they could have lived together, pretending like they weren't mutants, hoping from town to town, but she would never allow that. Him? He would have ran to that in a heartbeat, because he was selfish enough to want her to himself. To want to live, for the first time in two hundred years. He tried to fool himself, but how could he ever forget that he would always survive, while she simply didn't age as fast.

And that's how he should have known that everything was about to go downhill.

It happened in slow motion. But even then, it was 'unpreventable', as Charles would say. Logan knew the truth, though. It should have been him. He should have been the one to be hit with the laser. He should have been the one to have the hole inside him.

"No!" He screamed, running to her and sheathing his claws. He slides to catch her before she falls, but she's already dead in his arms. Her eyes are wide open, mouth paused in shock. Her body is limp, neck snapped back. And there's the four inch hole in her stomach, which he can see right through.

But he can't help but scream for her, calling her name. He shakes her, as if she's just asleep. As if he can fix this.

"Y/N," He cries softly, not moving as he's being pulled back. Suddenly he realizes his whole team is around him, trying to move him away from of his love. From his dead love. They're all screaming at him, and he knows that he's putting everyone in danger. But he can't let go of her. He can't bring himself to move. He closes his eyes, and then he lets out a guttural scream.

The next thing he remembers is being in a shelter, back against a wall and knees pulled against his chest. He blinks, realizing that he has no idea what happened after Y/N -

He doesn't want to think about that.

Everyone is under the shelter, talking and bandaging each other up. Logan wishes he couldn't heal, wishes he still had the marks on his body. But instead, he's left with just blood and and an empty chest.

"I can't send someone back that far. It would kill them." Kitty says, and hey, dying sounds exactly like what Logan wants right now.

"Send me." He speaks up, causing everyone to stop talking and turn to him.

"Your healing factor would help. As long as Kitty can keep you in the past that long." Charles says, and Logan remembers that his healing factor will keep him from dying. He thinks maybe he just hasn't tried hard enough to die. He's never wanted to more than he does right now.

"I can try." Kitty says with a nod. They all seem to know that if they don't do this, there is no future. They do this, or the Sentinels kill them all. They're at the end of the line. So they explain the plan, how Logan needs to get Charles and Erik on speaking terms again and stop the government from getting Mystic's blood. They think this will do the trick, that they may not be able to stop the downfall but they can stop the Sentinels. Logan realizes, then, that if he does this and it actually works, Y/N doesn't die. It reinvigorates him, starting his heart again.

They get into position, Logan laying on the makeshift table with conflicting emotions. He's mourning his lover, but he has some hope at least. He feels Kitty's hands by his head and before he knows it he's screaming, but it's not too long before he's in a bed, the bright sun beating down on him. He's with a girl - not Y/N, he didn't meet her until he met Charles, unfortunately - and he feels a little gross for it.

He gets into a fight immediately, and when his claws come out he realizes he doesn't have the metal that usually protects him. Shit. This stupid mission just keeps getting better and better. He gets shot, always a fun time, then starts the fight, just wanting to get it over with. He forgot how sensitive his stupid regular claws are, and he's tired of it by the time he makes it through the three guys. Now he needs to go to the mansion, which he has no idea what to find there.

~

He knocks on the door, sunglasses still on. It looks different, and not just because of the time, so he waits outside for a couple seconds for someone to answer the door. He can't even hear any kids running around, which is weird. He's so focused on this, he barely realizes someone answering the door.

"Hello, sir. We're closed, unfortunately, but I can give you directions to the nearest gas pump." She says with a smile. She's got a yellow shirt and jeans on, and Logan is pretty sure he doesn't know how to speak.

"Y/N?" He gets out, eyes clouding with tears. She looks taken aback, which shakes him up a little. He forgot that she wouldn't know who he was, of course.

"How do you know my name?" She asks, trying not to sound too skeptical. Her skin is glowing slightly, and Logan pulls his sunglasses off. It's all he can do not to cry,

"You're not gonna believe me." He chuckles, instantly feeling more at ease. How could he have forgotten that she would be here? He's never been more grateful for anything ever.

"Try me." She says, crossing her arms. He smirks and makes his way past her and into the mansion. "Hey! I didn't say you could come in!" She yells, and he looks around and his home, glad to see it standing.

"Where's the professor?" He asks, knowing it'd be easier to speak to Charles, who could read his mind.

"There is no professor. You must have the wrong place." Hank says as he walks down the stairs. Y/N turns and has a panicked look on her face, and Logan knows he needs to smooth this over.

"Listen, if you just let me talk to him, he'll know who I am. You won't believe me if I just tell you." He repeats, and Hank looks at Y/N before looking back at Logan, his face set.

"Like I said, there is no professor here. I think you should leave." Hank walks to be in front of Y/N, who looks conflicted.

"Who are you?" She asks, and Logan's heart skips a beat as he realizes that she's sticking up for him. She always said it was love at first sight, and maybe this is proof.

"I'm Logan." He says, and then he thinks about if he's actually going to tell them the next part. "And I'm from the future."

"Are you, now?" Charles is at the top of the stairs, and Logan startles when he sees that his friend doesn't have a wheelchair.

"Your legs," Logan starts, not sure what to say. He's caught off guard by a lot right now.

"Perceptive." Charlies says with a smirk as he walks down the stairs. Logan turns to Y/N, whose brows are furrowed.

"How did you know my name?" Y/N is still stuck on it, but it's almost like she's looking through him. She knows something is up.

"I'm from the future." He says, and the rest of the mutants in the room just stare at him. He looks at Charles, who is smirking. "You can read my mind. You know I'm telling the truth." At this, Charles' smile drops and his eyes squint.

"You have the wrong guy." His voice is low, and Logan shakes his head.

"No," Logan says, and Y/N tilts her head. It sounds crazy, someone from the future, but why would he lie? "I know who you are, Charles Xavier. So, read my mind, tell everyone I'm telling the truth, and can get on with what I came here to do." The room is silent as Logan and Charles stare at each other.

"I'm not that man anymore." Charles insists. Y/N knows he's not going to help, but she needs to know what this guy's deal is.

"What exactly is it you came here to do?" She asks, drawing his attention. He stares at her for a moment, making her a little concerned, but he looks lost and hurt, so she feels bad for him.

"In the future," Logan starts to get choked up, not able to look at any of them. He clears his throat, then continues. "The government was able to get Raven's blood. Because of you and Erik's feud. And they make these killers, called Sententials. Mutant killers." He can't look at them. Something happened, something bad. Clearly, if they're mutant killers, but this seems to be cutting Logan deep.

"How far in the future?" She asks, and it unsettles Logan. It's almost as if she knows, as if she's asking how long she has. He tries to remind himself that if he succeeds, she'll be okay. But will they still bet together if he changes the future? He has to hope. It's better for her to be alive, even if they aren't together. Everyone will be saved.

"Far." He answers, because he doesn't know how to tell her it's 50 years, doesn't want them to worry if they can't figure this out.

"How is this Erik and I's fault?" Charles asks, starting to get worked up. "If anything, it's solely his. I had nothing to do with this." He starts to leave, and Logan doesn't know what to do.

"You and Erik sent me from the future." Logan answers, causing everyone to pause. "You sent me because you need to work together."

"You're lying." Charles accuses.

"Well if you had your powers, you would know I'm not." Logan is starting to get worked up. This is harder than he thought it would be.

"I think you need to leave." Hank says, stepping forward. Y/N surprises them all by stepping forward as well.

"I think he's telling the truth." Y/N says, her gaze finally moving from Logan to Hank. "I think we should listen to him."

"Raven will die." Logan says, looking at Charles. "She's going to be experimented on and die. You can prevent this." Logan tries, hoping this will work. Charles glares at him, clearly not convinced.

"What about you?" Charles asks, lifting his chin. "What do you lose?"

"Did you miss the whole part about the mutant-killing machines?" Logan scoffs. Unbelievable, this young version of Charles. He'll take the old guy any day.

"No, no, no." Charles walks toward him, vacant look in his eyes somewhat clearing. "I may not be able to read minds anymore, but I know that you're in it for more than that."

"That's my business." Logan resists looking at Y/N, instead staring Charles down.

"And this is mine." Charles huffs. "I asked for your help years ago, and you told me to fuck off. I don't know what happens in the future, if you're telling the truth or not, but I do know that Erik will not be the one to stop it." He turns, and Logan knows he's losing him. He sighs, looking away from the small group.

"I lost Y/N." He says quietly. Somehow, the room goes even more silent as everyone stares at him.

"What?" She asks, barely able to breathe. He looks at her, face full of emotions she doesn't know how to decipher. She just met this man, but clearly he has known her for years.

"I found the school in 2000. You and Charles ran it, and I only stayed because of you. In my timeline, in 2023," He chokes up as the images of her flash through his mind. He wants to erase it, but it's there every time he closes his eyes. "The Sententials kill you. And they're going to kill all of us in the future, if you don't get your head out of your ass and make up with your boyfriend." Logan snaps the last part at Charles, who starts to get angry.

"Listen here-"

"Charles," Y/N starts, hand on his arm to stop him from walking even closer to Logan. She's glowing softly, emitting a calm, soothing light that even Logan can't help but admit makes his pulse slow. "Logan is giving us a chance to change the future. To save Raven."

"You're just saying that because you die." Charles lashes out, and that's how Logan knows he's not okay. He would never do that to her.

"We're all going to die!" Y/N yells. "Are you listening to him? You're probably dying in his timeline as we speak." She looks over to Logan, who is staring like she is the only person in the room.

"This is Erik's fault." Charles says, as if that made a difference.

"And it's going to be your fault if you don't listen to him." She softly speaks, and finally Charles sighs. Logan is grateful for Y/N; who knows how he would have convinced Charles without her.

"What do we have to do?"

~ When Logan wakes up, he's disoriented. The last thing he remembers he was being in the river, a rebar stuck through him and his brain shutting down from lack of oxygen. He can hear people outside his room, but what gets him to actually leave is the laugh that rings out through the hallway.

He sees her as soon as he opens his door, her smiling brighter than the sun. His heart pounds as he wonders if they're together - they didn't exactly get together in 1973, but she had helped him and believed in him when literally no one else had.

"Hey, baby," Y/N says when she catches his eyes, and he can't help the sound that escapes him. Her eyebrows raise as she realizes something is different. "What's going on?" She asks, leaving the group of people - mutants, kids, that had died, but are now here.

"Am I dead?" He asks, head reeling. She tilted her head with a small smile.

"What?" She asks, grabbing onto his arms gently. He doesn't have the same self control, however, and pulls her in. She sighs, and seems to understand. "You just got back."

"I thought I lost you." He admits, pulling back. "I at least thought we weren't going to be together." It's a hard thing for him to say out loud, but she just pulls him in for a kiss.

"James," She whispers as they pull apart, and he feels like no one has called him that in so long. She is the only one who is allowed to, the only one who won't get their throat ripped out for even thinking of uttering his real name. "There is nothing you could do to keep me away." She kisses him softly again, and he tries not to let the tears fall.

"I love you." He tells her, resting his forehead against hers.

"I love you too." She responds, giving one last peck before pulling back. "Now, I'm sure a lot has changed, so how about I catch you up on the last fifty years as we take a walk." She grabs his hand, and Logan swears he's never been happier.

//

tags: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187  @one-sweet-gubler