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loving-barnes · 6 months ago

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LOGAN HOWLETT - BLAST FROM THE PAST

A/N: And something new, that I've been working on for some time. The ending sucks, but I tried. Maybe it won't make sense, I don't know. It was supposed to be spicy, but I didn't know what to put there.

Pairing: Logan Howlett x mutant female reader

Warning: angst, some fluff

My stories are written for mature audiences - 18+!

Words: 5400+

Important note: Hugh Jackman!Wolverine (which means he's tall as fuck!)

FULL MASTERLIST | LOGAN HOWLETT MASTERLIST

LOGAN HOWLETT - BLAST FROM THE PAST

Logan needed some time off. Was it from the students? The missions? He didn’t know. But he longed for some peace. A weekend away would be perfect. A week would mean the world to him. And yet, he’d never asked for that. Deep down, he liked teaching the students. He enjoyed the missions even when he was grumpy about it.

He leaned against a pillar at the entrance, inhaling the cold wet air. The had been pouring for hours. It was a matter of minutes before the first thunder would start. With midnight slowly approaching, the scenario in front of him was very peaceful. It was exactly what he needed, even if it was only for a few moments.

Logan took a cigar out of his pocket, lighting it up. No one would bitch about it now. When he took the first drag, his mind wandered to Jean. He would think about her here and there, always wondering… what if? What if she chose him? What if she never dates Scott? But it wasn’t like that. It sucked she chose Scott. It’s been a long time now. It was time to get over it for good.

Out of nowhere, he scoffed. There was only one person who would stupidly comment on it. Logan perfectly pictured his best friend beating his ass for acting like a fool. Like a love-sick puppy, she’d say. And would laugh, even now.

Logan frowned. Now, his mind was preoccupied with the images of his best friend - Y/N. They met over two years ago. Or was it longer than that? It was at a time when he was cage-fighting for money. He wasn’t a teacher or an X-man. He barely knew who he was. He was blessed with that woman, to be honest. She sneaked into his life and nestled somewhere in his heart.

He chuckled when he remembered how she would mock him. They had a similar sense of humour. She was a powerful mutant, also on the run from everything and everyone - even herself. Life with her by his side was easier. Their paths separated a few times, only to be brought together by some miracle.

But then Rogue came and his life changed. The last time he met her was, again, a total coincidence. Because that’s what the universe had decided to do. Logan was on a mission with Storm, looking for more mutant children to be saved and protected. Turned out, Y/N was on her own mission, to help them. The meeting was short, amusing and before he blinked, she was gone.

He kept wondering what his life would be if they stayed together. What if she was here with him? What if he stayed by her side and never set foot here?

He took another drag, the taste lingering in his mouth a bit more than before. Logan’s eyes scanned the surroundings. The driveway to the school was empty. He didn’t sense any danger. And yet, he frowned. Something seemed off.

There was a scent lingering in the air. It was distant, mutant-like. Taking another sniff, Logan tilted his head. Odd. The scent was familiar. Too familiar. With every breath he took, he was sure he knew that person. That’s when his eyes captured a figure limping through the rain forward. He straightened his back, eyes wide. Could it be…?

“Am I delirious?” he heard the well-known feminine voice. “Is that the grumpiest man who ever lived?”

Logan chuckled. Of course, she would greet him with words like that. “Y/N?” What the hell was she doing there? “Holy shit, is that you? How the fuck?” he asked in disbelief.

“That’s how you greet your good friend?” she asked, chuckling. Y/N came closer, trying to keep her weight off her right foot. “I was expecting confetti and champagne.”

The cigarette was immediately abandoned. Logan walked into the rain. It took him five large steps to approach her. His big arms wrapped around her body in a tight hug. “This has to be enough.”

“A warm hug from you? Worth it,” she laughed as she pressed her drenched clothes against his dry one. She rested her head against his hard chest, smiling. “But seriously, what the fuck are you doing here? Of all places?”

Logan looked at her, eyes travelling from head to toe. She was a mess. “I think I should be asking that question, don’t ya think? Come on, let’s get your ass inside before you catch fucking pneumonia or something.” Before she could reply, Logan dragged her inside the school, away from the cold rain.

“Holy shit,” he heard her gasp when Y/N stepped inside. She kept twisting and turning on her heel, scanning the interior. Her mouth was open while trying to take it all in. “Don’t tell me you fucking live here, Howlett,” and she punched him in the bicep. “Have you won the lottery?”

He held a chuckle and shook his head. “Still got that mouth on you,” he stated.

“And yet, you still love me,” she had gifted him with a bright smile. That quickly turned into a scowl and a gasp.

Logan noticed before she was limping. Now, under the light, he saw her swollen ankle. “What happened there, kid?” he pointed at her foot.

She looked down, eyeing her injury. “Shit,” she mumbled. “On my way here, I slipped on a fucking mud and twisted it. Otherwise, I am fine.”

He could smell the lie on her, but for now, he decided to ignore it. She would sing eventually. Logan knew her damn well. Fuck, he couldn’t believe she was standing before him, here at school. Either this was the universe bringing them together or there were more lies behind those gorgeous eyes.

Her feet moved. She kept turning around, looking at the interior. “Fancy. So, this is where you live now? What is this a school?” She stopped and turned back to him. “Don’t tell me you are a teacher.”

Logan watched as she wrapped her arms around her body. The wet clothes were hugging her figure in the right places. “I know it’s hard to believe but that’s what I am now.”

She chuckled. “From a fighting cage to becoming a teacher. That’s a plot twist I didn’t see coming. What do you teach?”

“Ethics,” he said seriously. When he noticed how she raised a brow, he continued. “Believe it or not, I’m very good at it. I’ve got a way with words. You’d be surprised.”

“Did you lose your mind again while we were separated?” she asked. “There’s no fucking way you, of all people, are teaching ethics. That’s… unethical.”

That’s when he started to laugh. He got her good. “Nah, I’m kidding, kid. I teach combat training or PE and history.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, exhaling loudly. “Fuck, you got me there.” Her whole body shivered. “S-so, how the hell did you end up being a teacher? Last time, we didn’t have that much time to chit-chat. You were saving the same kids as I was.”

Logan’s eyes couldn’t watch how he kept shaking like an abandoned puppy. With long strides, he went to another room and reappeared with a fluffy blanket. He threw at her. “Here.”

“Thanks,” she smiled. She wrapped around her, sighing contentedly.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Why the fuck are you here? And don’t give me some shitty story. Tell me the truth,” he said strictly. He crossed his big arms over his chest, flexing them.

Y/N brushed the wet strands of hair from her face, her lips shivering. “I was sent here,” she said simply. Logan opened his mouth to demand more. “This might sound crazy, although, in our world, nothing is fucking crazy. Someone contacted me - no, that’s not the correct word. Someone connected with my mind. A telepath, a powerful one. He, I remember it was a male voice, helped me come here.”

Logan shook his head in disbelief. “Charles,” he mumbled. “He’s the founder and headmaster of this school. He’s the one who contacted you.”

“Well, shit,” she was surprised. “I was not expecting that. Does he know we know each other?” Y/N sneezed loudly. And then again. “The better question is, why me?”

Logan wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Come on. Let’s get you some dry clothes.”

“Is it okay that I’m here? It’s the middle of the night,” she had to ask while walking up the stairs, following her friend.

He snorted. “Don’t play timid now, Y/L/N. This shit doesn’t work on me.”

One simple glare and he had to laugh. “Damn, you know me too well. But seriously, everyone is asleep and I feel like an intruder.”

Logan took her to his room and closed the doors silently behind them. “You are a fucking annoying intruder, but I don’t mind, darlin’,” he grinned at her. “Welcome to my room, don’t fucking sit anywhere with those damn wet clothes.” Logan moved to his closet and took out a shirt with long sleeves and some boxers he never wore. Again, he threw the clothes at her like he did with the blanket, making her curse.

“I’ll be swimming in those clothes.”

“Shut up and be grateful.” Logan pointed at the second door in the room. “That’s my bathroom - change, shower, do whatever you need.”

“Careful with your words, mon ami,” she winked at him. “Thank you, Lo’. I appreciate this.”

“Save it, kid.”

Y/N showed him her tongue on the way to the bathroom, grimacing before closing the door behind her.

Alone in Logan’s bathroom, she smiled. Damn, she missed him. He was the only man who treated her like an equal. They shared the same humour, the same views. He was a strong mutant and so was she.

Sighing, Y/N undressed from the wet clothes, hanging them on a heating rack to dry. Her ankle still hurt. She caught her reflection in the mirror. Bruises covered her body. Some of them still hurt like a bitch.

One quick shower later, she felt better, warmer. Although, she smelled like him. It made her smile. She had to use his shampoo because there wasn’t anything else. In the end, it was better than nothing. As predicted, his clothes were too big for her. One of her shoulders was exposed, the boxers were low on her hips.

Logan was still in his bedroom when she walked out. First, their eyes locked. Then, his eyes travelled south, scanning her figure and his clothes hanging on her. Has she ever worn his clothes before? He dryly gulped. “Yeah, you are swimming in my clothes,” he chuckled. “Now, get in the bed.”

“Woah, first buy me dinner you ass,” she laughed. “I’m not that easy.”

One glare and she was laughing even more. “Of course, you are the one with a rotten brain,” he commented. “One night we’ll share. We will figure out the rest tomorrow after you meet the rest of the X-men.”

“I mean, we shared a bed once. It was during a winter, a shitty snowstorm got in our way,” Y/N grinned like a winner. “I was surprised when you cuddled me.”

Logan rolled his eyes. “You were cold and asked me to help you,” he reminded her.

“But you decided to do it,” Y/N grinned at him. “If you’d like, you can cuddle me tonight, too. I wouldn’t mind.”

“Damn you, woman,” he growled. “Just get in the damn bed and shut your noisy, annoying mouth.”

“Again, you love me,” she winked at him and climbed into the bed, taking the right side. Luckily, the bed was big enough to accommodate them together. “So comfortable,” she sighed contentedly. “You are treated well here.”

“Benefit of being a teacher here,” he chuckled. “Sleep, Y/N. We’ll talk more tomorrow.”

Her eyes were heavy. She didn’t have the energy to give him some witty comment. She simply turned her back to him, cuddling to her pillow, drifting into the realm of dreams.

At least for a few hours before she was up again, surrounded by darkness and gentle snoring. She turned her head to see the silhouette of her friend deep asleep. Sighing, she slowly left the bed, legs bringing her to a big window. The rain never stopped. It kept pouring on the grass, the wind swaying the trees. Her whole body ached. She had a couple of rough months behind her. Now, she was safe.

Y/N didn’t slip on the mud. She was on the run for several days in searing pain. Her wrists remembered the cuffs around them, not letting her move. What mattered now was the fact that the dark times were gone and she was in a place where she had someone she knew well.

Logan shifted in the bed, turning on the other side, still asleep. At least he was able to do that now. Maybe his mind was in a better place, healed. He deserved it.

Y/N rested her elbows on a wooden window sill and put her head on her hands. Watching the rain was better than sleeping at this point. It soothed her, washed away the pain, the distress.

In the morning, when she came out of the bathroom, Logan was sitting on his bed, frowning. “Already grumpy?” Y/N asked with a teasing smile.

“You didn’t sleep,” he glared at her.

“I did,” she crossed her arms over her chest. “Not the whole night, but at least a few hours.” There was no point in lying.

He shook his head. “Staring at the rain is better than resting in the bed?” he asked. “I knew damn well you were standing at the window for hours.”

“You are a damn spy,” she said dramatically. “Fine, I was up. So what?”

“You should have rested, kid.”

“If you knew I was up, why didn’t you say anything?” she challenged.

A sigh escaped his lips. “You are a pain in the ass, ya know that?” He huffed. “I figured you needed a moment to collect your thoughts, as you like to say.”

Without a word, he stood up and locked himself in the bathroom. Y/N rolled her eyes. Grumpy Logan in the morning was a blessing. She fixed the clothes on her body, sighing at how loose everything was. Her own clothes didn’t smell good. They needed a good wash.

Her ears registered noise coming out of the hallway. The voices shaded into each other. The students were up and ready to start their day. At first, she thought there’d be only a few kids. By the sounds of it, there had to be way more. How many kids did they save?

Once Logan was out, he was already in his jeans, just putting on his white tank top. It was only a second but Y/N got a perfect glimpse of his hard abs and a path of hair. Her eyes moved up to his face.

“I’m taking you to Charles,” he said. “Since he was the one who brought you here.”

Y/N showed him a thumbs-up. A second later, she stopped. “Wait, I can’t meet him like this,” she pointed at how she was dressed. Logan's clothes were too big on her body. Also, it would look… weird. What would the people around here think?

“Give me a minute,” he said and left the room, leaving Y/N standing there alone.

Logan came to a different room, knocking on it. It took ten seconds for the person to open the door. His eyes met with Rogue’s. “It’s too early to give me any pep-talk you have in mind,” she said, annoyed.

“I need a favour,” he said.

That piqued Rogue’s interest. “Alright, what is it?”

“I need to borrow some female clothes,” he said, not looking at her. He wanted to avoid that teasing look on her face. “Before you start asking shit… I have a friend here and she needs some clothes to wear.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, grinning. “A friend you say? Is it really just a friend, Logan? What happened to her clothes? Are they torn?”

He glared at her. “Will you help me out or nah?”

Rogue bit her lower lip, trying her best not to laugh at him. “What is her sizing?” she asked.

Logan described her body type. He didn’t give her too many details. Just enough so Rogue had a picture of her. “I think I have something here. Can I meet her?” she asked.

“You are nosy, ya know that?” he tilted his head, patience wearing off slowly. “You’ll meet her later, okay? I have to take her to Charles. He was the one who brought her here.”

“Huh?” she was confused. “Hold on,” and hid in her room where she tried to find some clothes that would fit Logan’s mysterious female friend. Once she handed him the clothes, she put a teasing smile on her face. “I wanna meet her.”

“Later, kid,” he waved a hand. He went back to his room.

When he entered, Y/N was sitting on the bed, looking at her nails. He threw the clothes at her. They smacked her face. “Here, put this on.”

She raised a brow. “Whose clothes are these? Please don’t tell me your girlfriend’s, that would be fucking weird.”

“They belong to a student I saved some time ago,” he explained. “She’s a good kid. She also has a big mouth. You two would be great friends,” he chuckled.

Y/N made a face. “Kinda hard to believe, but okay.” Taking her clothes, she went back to the bathroom to change. To her surprise, the clothes fit her nicely. They were simple sweatpants and a white T-shirt. Once she got out, Logan’s bed was perfectly made.

He noticed some bruises on her arms but decided not to comment on it yet.

Logan took Y/N through the vast hallways of the school to the lower levels where Charles had an office. Some students eyed Y/N from head to toe, not knowing what to think of her. There were whispers here and there, pointing their fingers in her direction.

“I feel like I am a zoo animal,” she snarled a little. “I’m surprised they are not taking pictures of me, yet.”

“Give it time,” he teased.

“Fucking great.”

Logan knocked on the office door three times before entering. For the first time, Y/N was able to see the man who connected with her mind. He was old, bald, in a wheelchair and dressed fancy.

“Y/N,” he said her name with a smile. “I’m glad you are here. Please, sit.” Then, he turned his eyes to Logan. “Thank you for bringing her. I’ll speak with her alone.”

The Wolverine didn’t comment on it. He gave him a nod, patter Y/N’s shoulder and left the Professor and his friend alone in the office to talk.

Typical Professor. He’d keep his secrets to himself until things when to shit. Logan hoped he’d give him an explanation. And if not him, he would hear it from Y/N.

Damn that woman. They had known each other for many years before he became a teacher at this school. They were close, sometimes wondering how close they would be if… He shook his head. It was useless to think that way. Yes, she was fucking sexy and beautiful. He would be lying if he said the opposite. It made him question things back in the day. Even now, when he saw her face this morning, there was a question lingering in his mind. What if..?

“Where is she?” Rogue startled him. “I wanna see her.”

“Jeez, kid. You are acting as if you want to catch Santa during Christmas,” he said.

Logan and Rogue walked into the kitchen. He made himself a coffee while Rogue got cereal and milk. She had that teasing smile on her lips, waiting for something juicy from Logan.

“I’m curious. Is she pretty?”

He almost choked on the coffee. “Shit,” he mumbled and coughed.

“Well, she must be if you are acting this way,” Rogue smiled.

“What do you mean, kid? I act normally. The damn coffee went down the wrong pipe,” he glared at her and put the mug on the counter.

“Whatever you say, Logan,” she giggled. “How come you never told me about this friend of yours? Or shall I call her a crush?”

“Have you ever told me about your friends?” he asked back. “And what am I, five?”

She put a full spoon of cereal in her mouth and shrugged. “This is different,” she said after swallowing the food. “I can confidently say I know you well, Logan. But since this morning, there is this different energy coming out of you.”

“How is this different?”

“It’s you we are talking about,” she said. “The grumpy guy who doesn’t let anyone in. And suddenly, there is a woman that is supposedly his friend. Ask anyone, they’d say it’s… unusual.”

His ears registered the sound of wheels and Y/N’s gentle voice approaching. He took a deep breath, preparing for their entrance. It seemed Charles had decided to give her a tour. When they entered the kitchen, Logan noticed how Rogue’s eyes widened when her eyes captured Y/N at the door in her clothes.

And they both smiled at each other. Fuck. Rogue and Y/N would be a deadly combo for him. He would never hear the end of their nagging and teasing.

“You’ve met Logan,” Charles chuckled. “This is Rogue. Logan saved her some time ago.”

“Hi!” Rogue said cheerfully, too cheerfully for Logan’s liking. “It’s so nice to finally meet you.”

“You will meet more people as the day goes by,” Charles said to Y/N. “Some of them are on a mission in Salt Lake City. They should be back in a day or two.”

Logan turned his gaze to Y/N. “So, you are staying?” It sounded rougher than he intended to. He would be glad to have her here, with him. “Wow, wasn’t expecting that,” he added.

She shrugged. “I think it’s time to lay low. My life has been hectic for years. Now, I got the opportunity to have some sort of stability - in a matter of speaking.”

“If you excuse me,” Charles said politely, “I have a class to teach. We will speak together more this afternoon. We’ll arrange a room for you and some clothes since you don’t own anything.”

“Thank you.”

. . .

Y/N sat alone in a room they assigned her. Some would say it was small. To her, it was luxurious and vast. She never had a room like this. As a kid, she would share the sleeping space with other kids. And then, she would travel from place to place, sleeping wherever it was possible - benches, couches or in a van when she was with Logan.

She thought about the time she would spend time with him. How they would share his van. That man had a kind heart. He wouldn’t let her freeze to death when he found her. And since that day, their friendship blossomed.

That man. Shit. Was there a time when she imagined his hard muscles under her hands? Yes, many times. When they were together, she could never cross that line. It was rare to have a good friend in her life who was willing to take her in like a stray. She wouldn’t want to screw that up.

A knock brought her back to reality. Rogue came inside her room with a gentle smile tugging at her lips. “Hi,” she greeted Y/N.

“Hi, uh, Rogue, right?”

“Yes,” she nodded. “Is it okay to come?”

“Sure,” Y/N pointed at the spot next to her on the bed. “So, you are the girl who gave me some clothes to wear,” she tugged at her sweatpants. “Thanks. That was very kind.”

Rogue kept the smile. “I know what’s like not to have any clothes. They gave me everything when I got here. I have a bed to sleep on, food to eat and friends.”

Y/N nodded. “That’s good.”

“So, what’s up with you and Logan?” she asked boldly, making Y/N snap her head up and look at the girl.

“We are friends,” Y/N said, unsure what Rogue meant by it. “We’ve known each other for years. We separated a while back and now, the universe has brought us together,” she explained.

“Universe,” Rogue grinned.

The door opened without knocking. Logan walked in as if it was his room. “Sure, come on in, this room is a public space,” Y/N commented with a smirk plastered on her lips. “What do you want?”

Logan glared at Rogue. “What are you doing here, kid?”

“Getting to know your friend,” she smiled at him. It was followed by a wink.

“Don’t you have classes?” he questioned.

Rogue huffed, annoyed by him. “We’ll talk later,” she waved a hand as she was leaving Y/N’s new room. She gave Logan one last teasing look before she left.

“You are such a dad,” Y/N laughed at Logan. “Strict hand, not taking any shit.”

Logan poked her forehead, making her laugh. “Have you hurt your head, kid? You are talking shit.”

“What? You don’t like being called a dad? How about ‘daddy’?” she put a wicked smile on her face, waiting for his reaction. When his eyes widened and his nostrils flared, she started to laugh at him.

Logan shook his head. “I think it’s time for you to start singing, Y/N.” His voice got deeper. The teasing was gone. He demanded answers. “I talked to Charles. He didn’t want to tell me what happened to you, or the exact reason why he found you. In his words, you should be the one to tell me.”

Y/N eyes lowered. She knew it would eventually come. Her eyes trailed over the few bruises that were on her arms. “I was locked in a mutant testing lab,” she whispered.

“What?!” Logan’s voice raised. “How long?”

She rolled her eyes from one side to the other, counting the days. “Over a month,” she said. “I got information that they had some kids locked there and I wanted to get them out. My goal was to take them to an underground network that helped mutants. Unfortunately, they captured me and locked me with them.”

“Y/N,” he sighed.

“Don’t,” she glared at him. “You weren’t there. You don’t know what happened. Don’t be over-protective when you were here, living your life.”

She was right. He wasn’t with her. He didn’t have the right to act this way. “What happened there?” Logan’s voice sounded more neutral. The anger behind it subsided.

Y/N started to play with her fingers, picking up dirt under her nails that wasn’t there. “They experimented on us, abused us,” she shrugged. “I wanted to get us away, but I only made it worse.”

“What happened?” he demanded this time.

“I blew up the whole place!” she raised her voice. Her eyes met his. “Many people died. I wanted to get them out and I… I killed them, Logan.”

Y/N’s mutation was a dangerous one. She was able to blow things up. Because she lacked control over the mutation, no wonder things went quickly south. “I didn’t want to,” her voice broke. “I’ve never done anything like that before.”

“Holy shit,” Logan shook his head. “How many dead?”

“I don’t know. I panicked and ran away,” she admitted. “Everything was on fire.”

There was silence between them. Logan wasn’t commenting on it. Y/N didn’t want to talk more about it. It was too fresh. The wounds didn’t heal. She killed many people, including mutants.

“So that ankle,” he pointed at her leg. She wasn’t limping that day, but it was still a little swollen. “You didn’t slip on a mud.”

She shook her head. “No. All injuries were from…” her voice faded into nothing. Y/N’s head lowered, not daring to look at Logan. She tried to hold back the tears and not to cry. She felt ashamed of lying, not telling the truth to the one man she kind of trusted. “Can’t believe the Professor wants me here after everything.”

“This is the problem,” Logan started to talk. “You never told me when something went to shit. Whether it was you being attacked as it happened at the Canadian borders when we travelling together. Or when your powers got out of control. Now, it’s still the same. Here I thought you could trust me.”

“I’m sorry,” she jumped in. “I didn’t want to seem like a damsel in distress or a weak mutant that doesn’t have things under control. Plus, it’s not something I wanted to brag about when there were casualties.”

“And again, you didn’t have your mutation under control,” he spat. Logan was upset and he didn’t understand why. “Why do I have a feeling that you cannot trust me? After all those years? You think I’d judge you? Come on, princess.”

“I trust you.”

“Do you?”

She opened her mouth to argue. Logan stopped her by raising a hand. “Don’t even try.”

The anger mixed with dread. Logan cared for her more than he ever realised. However, he was upset that she didn’t trust him enough to tell him what happened. She had to lie just to present herself as strong and brave.

He went out to smoke and calm down. Why couldn’t she admit that she fucked up and was injured? Stubborn woman.

. . .

Logan and Y/N didn’t talk for the rest of the day. She stayed in her room, hidden from the world while he dealt with students. Also, he wanted to know more information from Charles. He gave him a better glimpse into what happened. It seemed some mutants got away before Y/N blew up the whole building.

“I can’t believe she didn’t tell me anything about it,” he said.

Charles sighed. “I understand you two share some past. Your paths separated for some time and things changed. You can’t blame her for not trusting you enough.”

Logan frowned at him. “You know awfully a lot, Charles.”

“Sometimes your mind is too loud, opened for telepaths like an invitation to an open house,” he said with a chuckle.

“Then don’t snoop around,” said Logan.

Charles took a deep breath, ready to speak, when his face went stoic. He knew something was off. “She wants to leave,” he announced. “Rogue is talking to her at the entrance door.”

“Fuck,” Logan gritted his teeth. His legs took him out of the office and straight to the front door where Rogue was talking to Y/N. The woman had new clothes on her and a backpack. She was serious about leaving.

“Stay,” Rogue said. “You need to talk it out.”

Y/N shook her head. “I have to leave. Too many ghosts in the closet,” she shrugged.

“You’re not goin anywhere,” Logan lurched forward. “You just came here and I ain’t letting you go that easily.”

“Logan,” she sighed.

“No,” he shook his head. He grabbed her by the forearm and dragged her back inside the mansion. “I get that you re upset about what happened, but we can talk about it and deal with it together.”

“Logan, it’s not that easy, I killed all those people…”

He huffed. “Y/N, stop it, okay,” he shook his head. “We can help you here. We can make you understand your mutation better. You will train with us, how to use it, how to control it. What do you say?” It seemed as if he was pleading now.

She opened her mouth, ready to ramble some more. Logan reached for her, grabbing her by the neck and pressing her body close to his. His lips found hers in a kiss that took her breath away.

Rogue’s mouth almost dropped to the floor, but she was glad that Logan made the step. She knew that man liked Y/N. Because she didn’t want to ruin the moment, she slowly stepped away from them, giving them space.

When Y/N slowly pushed away from Logan, she was speechless. Like a fish on a dry land, her mouth was opening and closing without making a sound.

“Stay,” Logan said softly. “Come on, princess. Let me help you, give you a safe place.”

She bit her lower lip. “Will it come with more kisses from you?”

He snorted. “As much as you want, darling.”

#Logan Howlett x reader #Logan Howlett x female reader #Logan Howlett #Logan Howlett fanfiction #Wolverine x reader #Wolverine x female reader #Wolverine fanfiction #Marvel fanfiction #x-men fanfiction

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petew21-blog · 6 months ago

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Friends for life

This Zack, my best childhood friend. When we were kids, we were basically inspereable. We spent so much time together. We slept over each tohers houses. Even better was the fact that our moms were best frinds. So not only they spend so much time together, but so did we. But that was 6 years ago. Everything changed when my dad died. Zack was there for me, but over time we grew apart. I had to help out my mum with my two sisters and she had to get another job to get enough money for us. Zack's mom on the other hand got divorced and found a new boyfriend. Who I heard didn't really get on well with Zack.

Me and Zack talked from time to time, but it was mainly superficial. Zack was now a very well respected guy in the school. He was always into sports. But now he was a swimmer, basketball and a football player as well. I don't know where he got all that time and energy. Even if we saw each other in the classroom we just smiled or waved at each other. Maybe even this very tiny friendship was the reason why no bullies dared to touch me. Not that Zack would every bully anyone, but if he knew that the other guys bullied someone, he always stood up for that person and ended it. And the bullies even apologized sometimes. That's how respected he was.

So yeah Zack's a jock and I am a classic nerd. Or maybe not classic. I don't really have much time to play games on the computer because of my job, but when I have some spare time I read comic books. So yeah, that makes me a nerd I suppose. And I do quite well at school too. Maybe not the PE, I kinda suck at that, but I get by.

Present time

Me and several other classmates were assigned to start decorating the halls for upcoming prom. Most of my classmates were really excited for that, but not me. I didn't have anyone to go with. Not anyone I wanted to atleast. Ok, I'll say it. I am gay, which complicates things a bit. And the person I would really like to go to prom with is Zack. But that will never happen. Zack is 100% striaght and it would totally ruin his reputation in the school.

But that doesn't stop me from obssessing about him. I saw him a few times in the locker rooms which gave me a pretty consistent image of how he changed over the years. He was pretty much the same Zack I grew up with, but I bet that his junk is much bigger than I remember. Truth be told, Zack was the first (and only) person who I had any sexual experience with. I know it sounds sus, but he only wanted to experiment jerking each other off as most boys do at their younger years. Back then I was really puzzled and didn't know what to do. Now I just wish I could go back to that moment once again.

I was one of the few remaining students. The rest headed to the shops to get their dresses and suits. I told them to leave and that I would finish it by myself, cause I wasn't planning on going anyway.

I entered the gym to get a ladder, to help me set up the last few letters over the door. And there he was, on the other side of the room. Zack was lifting some weights I didn't even know how to name. He noticed me battling with the ladder nd hurried up to help me. I mean... wouldn't you crush about him too?

Zack:"Hey, man. Nobody came to help you with this? It's pretty heavy."

Me:"Hey, no. They all left to get their suits and all. So it's just me now."

Zack:"Oh, that's sad. You need help with something?"

Me:"No, it's fine. It's just final touches. But thanks"

Zack:"All right, man. But if you need, don't hesitate to ask ok?"

He smiled and went back to finish his set.

I was basically drooling, As I was climbing the ladder and trying to reach the letters, I stumbled and grabbed onto a light. I must have been shocked or something cause then I found myself on the floor. But I wasn't on the ground, I was standing. And on the ground was my body, unconcious.

I looked at my hands and they were barely visible. I tried to reach my body but it wouldn't accept my soul. Fuck, am I dying? I tried to call out for Zack but he didn't hear me. I ran to him and saw him lifting his weights. I tried to reach for him, but before I did I felt a force pulling me towards him. And as I was pulled away I felt something being ejected out of his body.

I opened my eyes, looking in front of me. But Zack was gone now. I turned around but he wasn't anywhere. As I looked down, I noticed I was now wearing bright red shorts, and on top of that a very sweaty torso, which definitely wasn't mine. I reached out my hands. Fuck, is this really happening? I searched the pockets and found a phone. In its reflection I saw Zack's face. Oh my god. Did I really just possess Zack's body? And where is he?

The responsible flow of thoughts was now interrupted by the two huge sweaty biceps now in the way where I usually didn't mind them. I flexed and oh my god, the tightness, the strength. I felt amazing.

I knew it was bad, but I just had to give it a try. What if I might never have a chance to do this ever again, I stuck out my new tongue and licked my new shoulder all the way to my biceps. Which also allowed me now to inhale the scent of my sweaty armpit. "This is so amazing!"

I then proceeded to touch my new belly full off abs. "How the hell did he get these?"

"Lot of working out and calorie deficit" a voice called out from the other side of the room, where I was before. And there was my body. Standing.

"Zack? Is that you?"

"Yeah. Would you mind telling me how this happened?"

I wanted to be completely honest, I swear, but I think that he doesn't need to know the part where my soul travelled to his body and was pulled by it.

"So, are we gonna try to reverse it the same way? Cause your body is really hurting from the fall and my body needs to be ready for a game tommorow. So I'm not really sure about that"

"I'm really sorry about that Zack. I mean, you're right that maybe it was my near deth experience that caused this, but I don't know if endangering our lives would allow to swap us back. What if the other one dies and the remaining one will have to keep on living the other ones life?"

"Yeah, you're onto something. Well, we're gonna have to figure out how to pass on as each other."

We spoke some more about how we were gonna live our lives without anyone thinking we have gone crazy.

"Ok, Zack. Just one question. How about... you know. Private stuff?"

"You mean my personal things at home or phone? Well that shouldn't be so bad I think. I don't have many secrets to tell or something, haha"

"No, I mean. Eventually we're gonna have to take a shower or go to a toilet."

"Oh, right. I haven't thought of that. Well, than my body is your body? I mean, I don't really like to think about somebody else using my body like that, but I know you're a good person and all, so I know you'll treat my body well. Maybe just... no sex? Could you do that for me please?"

"Zach, I haven't had sex yet even in my body. I mean, your body is attractive and all so, I know I could get a date in your body or smth, but that's not something I would do."

"Ok, thanks man. Just making sure. And also another thing. I..."

"What is i Zack?"

"Give me a second, it's kind off embarasing for me. I have to jerk off in the evening everyday. If I don't I sometimes have wet dreams the next morning"

"Dude, that's nothing to be ashamed of. That happens, Zack"

"Thanks. I know you mean well, but I just know my body. So I know you'll have to take care of that now or you'll have a very unpleasant morning including the washing of the clothes and bed linens."

I felt Zack dick in my new shorts getting hard just by hearing about this. Not only am I in the body of my crush, but he himself gave me permission to jerk off his dick. How crazy is that?

"Ok, Zack. If that's what needs to be done, I'll do it." I said it in a way to make it sound like I wasn't thrilled to jerk off his dick

"And in exchange I'll get to jerk off your dick. Do you have any other secrets I should know about?"

OH FUCK NO I am not telling him "Well... not really. I think."

"Good, then let's get to it. In case you won't know what to do, just text me and I'll help you"

I was approaching Zack's house. The one where I basically grew up secondary to mine. I knew where all the rooms were. What stuff was placed where. But that was before the death of my dad and before the divorce. Who knows what's different

I entered the house anticipating horrible things. And then a strange man left the restroom. "Hey, dipshit. Back from school already? Jesus fuck. The kids these days. Why don't you get a job kid" he left for the kitchen to grab himself a cold beer and left for the living room.

Now I understand why Zack spent so much time at school doing sports. He didn't want to stay at home longer than necessary.

Anyway, up to Zack's room. His room was not filthy, it was kind of clean, but at the same time it was a but disorganized. Some of his used clothes were lying on the ground. I grabbed one of his boxers and grabbed it to my face. This is my smell now. The smell of my dick. I inhaled and held it to my nose.

As I felt my dick hardening, I didn't waste no time and started undressing myself. Zack's small mirror didn't do the trick for me so I left to the bathroom.

"Ok, modern shower. That's new. Gonna have to give it a go"

I took off all my remaining clothes. I left his necklace on and then just stared at my new reflection in the mirror. How amazing is this?

I touched his jawline, his already growing beard, scratching my hand. His lips, shivering underneath my touch. His beautiful nose. His eyes, that now contained my soul and not his looked a bit different, but same too. I took my right hand and place it on my neck while my left hand was already enjoying the hairtrail blow my stomach.

"Oh Zack, I think you'd be the type to shave. Might do that for you to fully embrace this massive beast" and with that I lowered my right hand that was before resting on my vibrating throat and now started jerking my new dick.

"Just doing what I had been told. Haha"

I jerked faster. I was slightly moaning but not loud enough to cause suspicion with Zack's step dad. I was observing the tense muscles just working hard to get me into the state of pure euphoria.

I was getting close. I couldn't stop myself from moaning. I jerked so hard that the cum flew out of my dick right to the mirror in front of me. Is I stood there, smiling with my semi-hard dick in my hand I just saw the door swung open.

I quickly covered my dick and whole self with a towel, but even the partial view could give the viewer enough information. His step dad was furious

"What the hell you fucker?!? You're jerking off here while you could do some usefull job instead? I will have a very long talk with your mother when she gets here!"

What the hell just happened. Why is he so mad at Zack all the time. He's a student and a busy one at that. I don't know what this guy's problem is

I cleaned up the bathroom and got ready for the next time. Just the fact that I got the privilege to smell Zack's scent all the time and sleep in his bed. But having his body was a whole new level. I never even dreamed of this

The next day was horrible. I started the day with PE at school and let me tell you, that having a great body full of muscles is one thing. But having a weak will to actually do it is another. I was exhausted. I felt like I wouldn't be able to get up again after finishing

I saw Zack aproaching me in my body with a concerned look. I was beggining to worry what was on his mind

Zack:"Hey... umm how was your first night as me?"

Me:"Gotta say that the stepdad you got there is an another level of douchebag. I can't believe how you can live with that"

Zack:"Yeah, he is like that all the time. I don't know what mom sees in him. He's actually super nice to her, but seems to hate me just for breathing"

Me:"Yeah. I'll tell you later. There has been a bit of embarassing encounter"

Zack:"Actually I might ask you about something else first. Last night as I was in the bed I was trying to jerk off your dick, very nice by the way"

Me:"Jesus, don't make it more awkward than it is"

Zack:"Sorry. We'll I was trying to jerk off as I normally would, watching porn and stuff, but I couldn't. Then my mind wandered over to the guy on the video... I have to ask you and don't be afraid to answer. Are you gay?"

Me:"Yeah... I've been meaning to tell you for a long time. Well... since we're already saying everything to each other. I'll just admit it right now. I... I have a crush on you Zack"

Zack:"That was my another question. I have my head filled with thoughts. Very naughty thoughts including my body, so I am happy that you cleared this up and I am not just another self centered weirdo. But the question is. Would you let me suck my dick?"

Oh man

Another story from the inbox: Can you do a classic swap story between a nerd and a straight jock? I always find those to be super hot

Hey guys. Sorry for the great break. I was finishing my exams (I passed them all, yay) and now I am in a different country on an externship trying to figure shit out. But I do have some free time during the day and I get to write a bit about my drafts and the stories in your inbox. And thanks to everyone who texted me all the supportive and kind words :) really appreciate it

#body swap #body switch #gay to straight #Jock body swap

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unsolvedjarin · 1 year ago

Note

I was going through a Charles video that mentioned him blacking out in the car at some point. Since I’m a sucker for angst, I was wondering what it would be like for mentor!Seb if it were the reader in that situation instead. Perhaps the season before the one he retires? And maybe we could see more of the reader’s friendship with Charles? Only if you feel inspired by it, of course.

Either way, thank you for sharing your fics with us. They are my favorites and I’m really grateful for having found your blog.

gif by luchitohamilton

EVERY UNIVERSE.

pairing: (mentor! sebastian vettel x ferrari driver! reader) (charles leclerc x teammate! reader)

summary: qatar is a difficult, hot, and taxing track. that along with you having food poisoning, well…that might not end too well for you. thankfully you can always rely on sebastian and charles to be there for you.

word count: 4k

note: can you guys tell i took inspo from mark webber throwing up in his car and the qatar race this year? it was so sad to watch everyone seem so tired especially lance and logan. anyways, the plot kinda got away from me at the end, i do apologize but the seb feels were too intense 😵‍💫

content warning: car crash, mentions of throwing up, inaccurate depictions of food poisoning

part of this series but can be read without!

“Ready?”

A familiar voice makes you turn around from your pre-race preparations. “Depends on what your definition of ready is.”

Charles smiles, “I know it’s our first race in Qatar but c’mon, it isn’t that bad.”

“Isn’t that bad? I might melt in the car! Doesn’t help that I almost missed this one because of food poisoning.”

“Ah yes, how could I forget that,” he teases. He couldn’t forget it, because you’d been complaining about it endlessly for the past three days. You had food poisoning because Mark Webber invited you to lunch on Thursday, and accidentally gave you something dodgy. You’ve yet to forgive the man. “Well at least you’re starting from P4. Lets you fight for P1, no?”

“Against Lewis and Charles? Please. In my dreams, maybe. Plus, you’re starting P3, asshole.” You retort, turning back around to put your balaclava on. The second it’s on your head, though, it gets pulled off, and you look behind you for the perpetrator. “Charles give it b– SEBASTIAN!”

The Aston Martin driver gives you a grin before hugging you tightly, lifting you off the ground a bit. You didn’t expect to see him before the race, but the surprise was definitely welcome.

“Oh but if it was me I would have gotten scolded,” Charles mutters, but his complaints were left unheard.

“Just came to wish you luck before the race starts. P4! You’re going to get a podium, I’m sure of it,” Sebastian beams, letting you go from the hug.

“That’s what Charles said too. He was more delusionally optimistic, though. Said I was gonna win.”

“Because I believe in you! Is that so bad?” Charles complains from the side, his comment ignored once again.

“Well maybe Charles is right— you could win. Meanwhile I’m starting in the midfield, again.” Sebastian complains, groaning a little bit.

“Oh cheer up Seb, you survived Ferrari for 6 years, you’ll live.”

He lights up a bit at your joke, moving to say something before an Aston Martin mechanic shows up outside the Ferrari garage. He wasn’t allowed inside, but it was obvious he was looking for Sebastian– who also wasn’t allowed inside, yet mysteriously got in. Nothing to do with him being friends with your mechanics of course, yeah, totally not.

“Ah shoot, well it looks like they’re looking for me,” Sebastian sighs. He starts to walk away before he pauses and moves back towards you, “Hey, stay safe, okay? New track, it’s dangerous. I know we’ve done practice and quali but you can never be too careful. Plus, it’s sweltering hot. Hydrate.”

You roll your eyes fondly, “Yes, dad.”

His face scrunches up a little, “Don’t ever call me that again, I’m not that old.”

“You could barely work my Instagram the other day! All I asked was for you to open Lewis’ stories!”

“Psh, whatever. I have to go, see you after the race, yeah?” He asks, giving your arm a quick squeeze. You nod, murmuring a goodbye to him. He wishes Charles good luck too, before saving his engineer from the Ferrari mechanics blocking him.

“So he can pull your balaclava off– which you hate, by the way, let me remind you– but if I even try adjusting your helmet straps so it’s safer you slap me off?” Charles speaks up, making you break eye contact from the Ferrari garage doors.

You roll your eyes at him with a smile, “You have got to forget that. It was one time. And it was a soft slap to the shoulder!”

“The point still stands,” he retorts, making you give up on the conversation.

“Whatever, Charlie. Just get ready for the race. Stay safe, okay?” you say, putting your balaclava on again. He gives you a quick kiss on the cheek before leaving, a sign of good luck between the two of you. It makes you smile a little before you hop into your car.

Okay. Qatar. New track, new conditions, but still the same old you. You could do this.

The lights go off one by one, and you grip the steering wheel with anticipation like you always did. Race starts still made you nervous no matter how long you’d been racing. One light goes off…then the next…then the third…the fourth one follows…and then…

“AND IT’S LIGHTS OUT AND AWAY WE GO!”

The first few laps were a breeze, maintaining your position in fourth despite Fernando being on your tail the whole time. You noticed the car was slightly hotter than usual, but decided to ignore it and chalk it up to new changes in the engine.

Around lap 25 you started to feel a bit dizzy and sick during the sharp corners, cursing yourself internally for having such bad timing with the food poisoning. “Charles is 0.200 seconds ahead, feel free to overtake,” your engineer buzzes through the radio.

“Copy,” you reply, not really paying attention, still feeling sick. You overtake Charles with ease around the outside, him not putting up much of a fight because it would have taken both of you out. Now you just had to maintain this position for…dear god, 32 laps.

“Lewis 5 seconds ahead, focus on tire degradation instead.” Your engineer’s warning goes unheard, though, as you noticed the cockpit was getting way too fucking hot.

“The car’s burning up,” you say into your radio, getting only a simple “Copy, we are checking,” back.

“Okay, Y/N there are no problems with your engines, I repeat; no problem.”

What? That’s impossible. You felt like you were melting in there. “Are you sure? Can you ask Charles if his car feels like the sun too?”

“Negative, focus on the race.”

Oh you were going to kill them one day– if they don’t kill you first. A few more laps passed in those horrible conditions before turn 5 rolled around and as you swerved your car, you started to see black spots around your vision.

That can’t be good, you think, having to close your eyes for a second before shaking your head and snapping yourself back into the race. Thankfully Charles had pitted earlier and had a 3 second gap to you. “I don’t feel too well.”

“Copy. Is it the car?”

“Well it’s definitely part of the problem.”

The next few turns were torture, your head bobbing around as you faded in and out of consciousness through the fast corners. Charles was catching up now, and you knew if you didn’t do something soon, he would pass you.

You wanted this podium. You needed it. If you got P3 you would grab P4 on driver standings.

There was a slow corner coming up that was a good overtaking spot, and so you had to defend.

As the turn came around– faster than you expected– the extreme heat of the car, your headache, sweat, food poisoning, and dizziness came together and you suddenly felt light, as if you were flying, before a jolt knocked you out of your consciousness completely.

You were out for less than a minute, but that minute counted for everything. You completely turned into Charles, him having to swerve onto the gravel just so you wouldn’t crash into each other. Your car, however, still had more speed in it, and you were headed towards the wall on the very far side of the gravel.

Thankfully, the rough rocks had shook you awake enough that you were able to swerve away from the wall extremely last minute and only take the tail and back wheel of your car out.

The next few seconds were a blur.

You still felt faint, but could hear a muffled voice headed towards you. You knew the back of your car was completely ruined and you were out of the race, and you put your helmet in your hands in disappointment. You were having such a good run before this happened. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

The muffled voice running towards you was closer now, and you registered it to be Charles. He was saying something but you could barely hear him with how your ears were ringing and how the seat of the car was still hot.

The man quickly realized you weren’t hearing him, and opted to come closer and lift your visor up. “Smoke. Car. Get out!”

He didn’t need to tell you twice. You pushed yourself up but barely, Charles having to lift you up by your shoulders. Once out of the car you completely collapsed on the floor, only having your teammate catch you.

“I think I’m gonna throw up,” you say drowsily, still fighting the urge to pass out.

“Safety car is coming, stay with me now,” he replies, tapping your helmet so you stay awake. You were grateful your friend was there with you.

On track, however, Sebastian had just been informed of what went down. “What the fuck? What happened?”

“L/N completely turned into Leclerc. Driver error, push on for P9.”

Sebastian hated how his engineer sounded like a robot reporting a technical statistic. He saw the aftermath of the accident for a split second, and it didn’t look like your car was in good shape. He worries about what shape you were in. “Are they okay?”

“Safety car is coming out for L/N and to crane the car, but other than that they seem fine.”

“Injuries?”

“Please focus on the race, Sebastian.”

“INJURIES!” he shouts into his radio, annoyed. He wouldn’t be able to focus on the race until he knew you were alright.

“Uh…L/N seems to be out of it and on the floor, but they’re okay. They’ll be fine, Seb.” His engineer adds the last statement to reassure the man. He knew you meant a lot to him. Seb nods to himself in the car, carrying on with the race. The faster this finished the faster he could get to you.

The safety car came out and they all slowed down, Sebastian finally being able to take a second long look at the accident. Your car was still there, the smoke coming out of it being extinguished by a personnel. Sebastian thinks he ought to have a word with the Ferrari mechanics after the race. He then notices you, on your knees in the gravel, only being kept up by a driver he can only assume to be Charles. Sebastian thinks that should be him there supporting you, but at the same time he’s glad he wasn’t the one who you nearly crashed into. He couldn’t have it on his consciousness that he could have hit you.

“‘m sorry for ruining your race,” you mumble, still being held up by Charles. The man shakes his head, “It was ruined before that, don’t worry. My engine was acting up.”

You knew he was lying to make you feel better, his engine was completely fine. He was headed for the podium earlier, his first in a while. And you completely botched his chance to get it. The thought makes you sob a little, along with the fact that you ruined your own race.

Crying wasn’t the greatest thing to do, though, as it only made you more lightheaded. Charles notices this and takes your helmet off for you, despite your protests pre-race. You were grateful that he did, though, as the second he took your helmet and balaclava off you felt like you had a breath of fresh air for the first time.

“Better?”

You nod, unable to speak. You still felt dizzy and sick. Charles felt annoyed that the safety personnel were taking so long to get to you, waving them over to walk quicker. Squinting your eyes a little, you find them with some health personnels, and you sink a little lower into the gravel.

“God not again,” you groan, remembering the events that unfolded back in Spa. You did not need to go to the medical tent. As you attempt to get up, however, you fall back down as your vision blurred. Looks like medical tent it is again.

The rest of the race went particularly well. Lewis won the race and Fernando got his first podium since 2014– which you reminded yourself to congratulate him for once you were out of the medical tent– and Seb ended up P9, a position higher than where he started. That would usually be a mediocre result but with his shitty car, you were pretty impressed.

“Water?” A familiar voice makes you look away from the TV screen in the room. Charles sat beside your bed, holding a plastic bottle of water. You nod and take it from him, chugging the cool liquid down.

“Sorry again for ruining your race,” you say as you finish drinking. Charles shakes his head, “Stop apologizing. You passed out, that was no fault of yours.”

“You passed out!?” A loud concerned voice makes both of you snap your head towards the door of the room. Sebastian stood there, still in his race suit like the both of you, a shocked look on his face.

“Is that what happened? You passed out mid race?” He asks again, but this time softer. He walks towards your medical bed– which you insisted you didn’t need– before putting his hand on your forehead to check if you had a fever. The action makes you giggle, but Sebastian had a serious look that shut you up quickly.

He shakes his head with a sigh, “You have a bit of a fever.”

“Any other fun observations?”

Sebastian didn’t seem to be in the mood for your wit, though. “You could have been injured. Just a few meters and you could have fully hit the wall. If you were just a few seconds late waking up you would have–”

He shuts his eyes and stops himself. He didn’t want to think about what could have happened anymore. His voice got wobbly during the end of his statement, making you realize that he was stopping himself from crying. You absentmindedly sit up and reach for his hand, squeezing it gently.

“I’m here, Seb. And I’m fine. Look at me.”

The older driver does, slowly opening his eyes. You squeeze his hand a second time, a soft smile on your lips. “I’m here. And look, I’m completely fine. You’re not getting rid of me that quickly old man.”

Seb lets out a chuckle at that, moving to hug you tightly.

“Don’t ever scare me like that again,” he mumbles into your hair. “Why did you even pass out?”

“I was already a little dizzy before getting in the car because of the heat but I tried ignoring it. The car was overheating too and it made me dehydrated, I think. My drink pouch wasn’t a lot of help either when the water was steaming hot. Plus…” you trail off, not really wanting to talk ill of Webber.

“Mark gave her food poisoning when he took her to lunch,” Charles butted in, making you give him a look. You forgot he was in the room.

“Mark? As in Webber?” Sebastian asks, Charles nodding in response. “The bastard.”

“Oh c’mon Seb, he just wanted to treat me to lunch. It’s not like he poisoned my food on purpose.”

Seb sighs deeply before agreeing, “You’re right. Sorry. I’m just– I don’t know.”

“I get it. I mean, this is my second time at the medical tent in three months. Makes you think how accident prone I am,” you joke. Sebastian laughs, and you’re glad you got the worried look in his face away.

“The one in Spa was completely your fault, but we may have to pin this one on Mark,” Seb teases. You shoot him a grin, “Yeah, we can say that.”

Before you could talk more, though, a PR person from both Ferrari and Aston Martin came in to fetch Charles and Sebastian.

“What about me?” you ask, getting up from your bed. It wasn’t like you were injured or anything, you were just a little sick and had a bit of a stomach ache. You’d already thrown up earlier, so you felt pretty normal now.

“Sorry, we have orders to keep you here.”

You scoff, “Please. What can they do if I walk out?”

Before the Ferrari PR agent could reply, though, you were already out the room. She stands there helpless, making Sebastian and Charles chuckle to each other before following you. You were always stubborn when you wanted to be.

The second you’re out of the medical tent, camera flashes overwhelm your eyes. You walk past them as you always do, but the contrast of the light to the night sky makes you a bit lightheaded again, having to hold Sebastian’s arm for support. He moves your hand from his arm to his own hand, interlocking it with yours and pull you through the crowd. There were no words needed to be said, he always knew what you needed. You’re starting to think he can read minds.

Once past the annoying lot of cameras, you make it to the media pen where at least they pestered you in a more civil way. The interviewers were all over you and Charles, looking for some inside scoop on ‘Ferrari drama.’ Turns out, the media thought you tried to purposely take Charles out a la brocedes style. Because of this you had to clarify to every person you talked to that, “No, I did not try to take Charles out on purpose. I passed out. We’re good. Yes, we’re still friends.”

Once that was all over, you headed over to the Channel 4 area to give a certain someone a piece of your mind. “Mark Webber.”

The man turns around to the mention of his full name, smiling when he notices who it is. “Y/N! Glad you’ve come and joined us! We’re on in about five minutes, we can do a segment about the crash but if you wanna talk about something else on screen that’s fine too, we can–”

“You gave me food poisoning!” you butt in. “I cannot believe you.” His coworkers give him a look, as if they were holding in a laugh at him being scolded.

Mark stands there with his mouth agape, unsure what to say. “Wasn’t that three days ago? Are you sure it’s me?”

Rolling your eyes, you reply, “Yes, I’m sure it’s you. It started three days ago, and guess who I was with when I ate something unusual three days ago? Oh right, it’s you!”

He pauses for a moment before bursting into laughter, trying to cover his mouth to no avail. “Sorry, it’s not funny that you almost crashed, I’m glad you’re safe, but– ha!– I cannot believe it was because of the dodgy Indian food!”

You gave him a shove, trying to act mad, but the smile on your face betrayed you. His laughter was contagious. “You are such an asshole.”

“Awh cheer up,” he gives you a side hug, ruffling your hair a little. “Sorry for giving you food poisoning, mate. I’ll make it up to you, whaddya think about lunch on me tomorrow?”

You escape his side hug when you hear him say that, “Absolutely not! I’m never trusting you again with food recommendations.”

The statement makes him laugh again, and you chuckle along with him. Hard to be mad at someone who didn’t do it on purpose. Sebastian walked over to the two of you, having watched the interaction from afar.

“Look who’s coming over,” Mark mumbled, making you notice Seb trying to pretend to just ‘bump’ into the two of you. “Still competitive ‘till now, eh? Don’t worry, I’m not trying to out-mentor you,” Mark says out loud, grabbing the attention of the German.

Seb tilts his head with a faux oblivious look, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He grabs you by the arm and ‘discreetly’ pulls you over to his side. ‘No idea’ my ass.

The Australian scoffs with a grin, “Whatever you say mate. Listen, I gotta get back because our feed is going live in a few minutes, but you two take care, alright? Nice to see you again Seb.”

“You too, Mark.” Sebastian replies, this time genuinely. While the media knew the two drivers were now on good terms, they didn’t know just how close they had gotten. The two went bowling at least once every two months just to catch up with each other, you being there for half their competitions– yes, they still competed. Apparently that sense of wanting to beat your former teammate does not go away. So far this year, Mark’s been winning.

Before Mark completely walked away, he looked back at you for a second, “Oh, and, I am happy you got out injury free from that nasty crash. Genuinely glad you’re okay. Sorry that my dodgy food contributed to your sickness.”

You wave him off, “It’s fine, Mark. It’s not like you could’ve known I would get food poisoning. Although, next time maybe check online reviews.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he smiled, waving you a goodbye as he ran to his coworkers who were already getting impatient.

You shake your head with a grin, “Well at least that’s over with.”

Sebastian slings his arm around your shoulder, “True. So want to get dinner?”

“Absolutely not. I think I’m done with food for a good while.”

“Well you have to eat something,” he insists, as you both walk through the paddock. “How about we get room service?”

“Eh, it’s late, I don’t really want a repeat of Monaco 2019.”

Monaco 2019 was when you and Seb got room service at 10pm because you didn’t check the time. Safe to say the staff weren’t very happy with that. You both felt so bad while eating that food.

“We can just get McDonalds then,” you suggest.

“McDonalds?” Charles asks, popping out from god knows where.

“Jesus, where the hell were you hiding? The atoms?” You ask.

“I was here the whole time.”

“You were not,” Sebastian comments. Charles simply shrugs, tagging along with the two of you, not caring that he was obviously third wheeling a moment. “So McDonalds?”

You roll your eyes, “Yes, McDonalds. But you’re paying because you’re tagging along.”

“No fair! Sebastian is richer than me!”

You both give Charles a look at the same time. Charles thinks it’s eerie how alike the two of you were.

“Charles,” Sebastian starts, patting the Monegasque’s back with one arm with his other still slung around your shoulders. Your accident made him very clingy, but you weren’t about to tell him that. “Let me phrase this as nicely as I can; you are from Monaco. You are rich.”

Charles lets out a sigh, “Fine. I’ll buy the food.”

You clap, “Fuck yeah! Food on the rich man!”

“We have the same salary in our contracts?”

“Shh, that’s not important,” you say, shushing Charles. “Food on the rich man! Although, we may have to go to the hotel right after and just get take out. I can feel Mark’s Indian food from three days ago still fighting with me.”

Charles is the one to roll his eyes this time, “I’ll get the car so we can get there faster, your highness.”

“Thank you, Lord Perceval.”

“Don’t call me that!” he shouts, already walking away to the parking lot.

That left you and Sebastian alone again, just enjoying the company of one another, walking slowly down the paddocks. There were few people now, most having gone back to their hotels to call it a night.

“You know, I’m glad I found you.”

The words make you look up at the older driver, who you find smiling at you. “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean obviously we would find each other, there’s only so many drivers in Formula One. But I mean I’m glad I found you in this life.”

“Do you think we don’t find each other in other lives?”

Sebastian pauses and thinks for a second. He’s thought about the other career paths he could have taken throughout his life– other lives he could have lived. He knows there’s no logical way, but he thinks he still would have found you in those lives. The thought makes him smile to himself.

“No, I think we do.”

“Well then good. Because me too,” you reply, giving him a smile of your own. “Why did you suddenly think about it though?”

Sebastian shrugs, “I don’t know. I just felt suddenly sentimental. Feels like a chapter of my life closed but I’m not sure what or why.”

Little did he know that he would start contemplating retirement a few weeks after that.

“Oh well, it doesn’t matter. Whether we find each other in other lifetimes, I mean.”

Seb raises his eyebrow, him now being the one confused. “What do you mean?”

“I mean we’re both here now. Enjoying each other’s company. Why bother thinking about versions of ourselves in other universes when we’ve got each other in this one?”

Sebastian gives you the most genuine, softest smile at that. “I love you, I don’t tell you that enough.”

You scrunch your face, “Ew. Sounds like a love confession. Sorry but you’re too old for me.”

“You know what I mean. I love you but not in that way. That’s just gross,” Sebastian says, hitting your shoulder.

“Relax old man, I’m just teasing,” you giggle, trying to avoid his hit. “Love you too. Ew. Sorry, not great with verbal affection. Pretty sure that just made me throw up a bit, and that’s not even with the help of the food poisoning.”

Sebastian just shakes his head, “Okay c’mon now, Charles will be annoyed with how slow we’re walking.”

Later that night, the three of you watched a cheesy romcom while sharing a shit load of fries and chicken nuggets. As you carried on through the night you thought to yourself that despite the hardships of F1, the crashing, the disappointments, the injuries– it brought you a second family you never thought you’d have. And you wouldn’t trade it for any other universe.

Although, maybe a universe where you didn’t get food poisoning.

#sebastian vettel #charles leclerc #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel x you #sebastian vettel imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc imagine #formula one #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 #f1 fanfic #formula 1 x you #f1 imagine

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bunniesanddeer · 8 months ago

Text

Hate (Alastor x Reader)

Hey, awkward haha. This is only my second attempt at smut, inspired by the lovely @hazelfoureyes. (If you want me to untag you, I totally will).

Obviously minors, DNI.

I'm normally not comfortable with this stuff, mostly because I don't have a ton of experience writing it. I decided, that for practice, I would try writing something where the reader doesn't like Alastor. I figured a dynamic that was different from what I normally wrote might help me learn how to get better at writing smut. So here is something inspired by the best smut writer, about a dynamic I've never written :) Also, my first time writing PiV, so sorry if it sucks :) be gentle with me, lol

Hate

Pairing: Alastor X Reader

Warnings: Reader HATES Alastor, Enemies to enemies with benefits, heat, smut, 18+, Alastor speaks French, praise kink, fingers, PIV.

Word Count: 3,818

You could feel it building. The heat rising and coursing through every inch of you. The way it settled in your core, at the pit of your belly. The twinge and ache in your chest. The pressure behind your eyes. The delirium in which you processed it. It was as much as you could take, and you could feel the tension building.

You hated him. You hated him with every inch of yourself. It was a hate that suffused your bones, that dripped through clenched teeth, and twitched tightly gripped hands. You hated him entirely. It wasn’t just the way he talked, although the pompous air and the two-faced words he spoke with angered you to no end. It wasn’t the way he dressed, despite the fact that it was an out of style suit that he preferred, that pissed you off at even a glance. You knew it wasn’t the way he looked, because as much as you hated the sight of him, he was an admittedly handsome demon and had likely been a handsome man; he had dark skin, and fluffy red hair that framed his sharp face nicely. No, it was something deep inside, that you couldn’t quite explain, that made you despise him so, so much.

Alastor was not a good man. No, it wasn’t exactly the best way to judge those that were already in Hell, but among the many denizens you’ve met, he was surely high on the list of fucked up crimes. Sure, he claimed he had a moral code that he strictly followed, but if no one knew what it was, what the hell was it good for? Maybe it was his hypocrisy. The way he held himself and looked at others with such disdain, and yet he was just as lowly and weak and corrupted as everyone else.

Alastor was a hypocrite, for sure, but maybe so were you. How else could you explain this? Who were you to judge him, for all his faults, when yours were staring you in the face?

Your thighs ached. You could feel the pain growing, and you knew it would only get worse. You had been around him long enough now, that the cursed body you had been gifted had caught on, and now you would suffer for something you never agreed to.

It hadn’t even been a thought, when you moved into the hotel. You hadn’t thought about the fact that your form and his might affect one another. How were you supposed to know it was a possibility when you’d never run across another deer demon, let alone a Buck? Hell, quite frankly, hell. Each new, fucked up thing, you found brought you greater misery. Now your own body was a prison. You’d take having periods again, if it meant you didn’t have this terrible thing.

When it had first started, only days before, you had sought out Angel Dust, who had laughed at you.

“Ha! Are you pulling my chain, toots?” He had asked, his tone filled with bewilderment. “C’mon, you gotta know! You’ve been here for years!”

But you didn’t know, and when he caught the anxious look growing on your face, and the fidgeting of your hands, he sighed.

“Shit, ya don’t know, do ya?” Angel put one of his many arms around your shoulders, and guided you to his room. He settled you on a plush bean bag, and offered you something to drink. You shook your head, anxiety making your face tingle. “Suit yourself, babes.” He sighed, and scratched the back of his head. “It’s called heat. Some folks don’t got one, some do frequently, and some are seasonal. For folks who got it seasonally, it tends to, uh, depend on whether or not ya got someone, you know, compatible.”

You cocked your head as you scratched and pulled at a stray thread on your pants.

“You gotta find someone with a similar build to yours. If you ain’t ever seen another deer, it might be why it hasn’t come up, babes.” His words clicked in your head, and your face paled.

“No,” you said, chest frozen at the thought. It hurt suddenly. Your hands tingled, and your chest hurt. What was happening? “No, no, no. Absolutely not, please tell me it’s not because-”

Angel winced, and gave you a pitying look. “Yeah, it’s cuz of Al, doll.”

You gasped for breath, and you shook. You couldn’t think clearly. Everyone knew how much you and Alastor hated each other. You made it clear, and his constant badgering and rude behavior seemed to solidify it for everyone that it was mutual. But for your body to betray you, for him? This felt like the ultimate Hell.

When you started crying, Angel had soothed you to the best of his ability. The next morning, after falling asleep in Angel’s many arms, he gave you an unopened toy, and told you to gather supplies. Enough to hoard up in your room for a few days. He promised to run interference for you, and sent you on your way.

So here you were, writhing on your bed, on day three. Your sense of smell was increased, and your ears twitched at each subtle sound in the hall. You had tried putting on some mindless show so you could stop focusing on all these extra sensations, but it didn’t help. The extra voices, all not his, sent your head spinning. You had turned it off after only half-an-hour.

Your thighs rubbed together, and sweat dripped down the back of your neck. You pushed your face into a pillow and groaned. You had avoided it thus far, but it might be time to break out the little vibrator.

Eventually, you sat up in your bed, ignoring the blankets that you had pushed to the floor the day before. You huffed, and reached for the toy that had been plugged in the night before. You gave the strange pink toy a squeeze, the soft silicone giving just slightly, and made your way to the bathroom. While you washed the toy, you tried to convince yourself that this was all you needed. One good vibe session, and you’d be back to normal. You were wrong.

It was hot. The whole room was unbearably hot. You were covered in a thin layer of sweat, and your clothes had long found themselves on the floor. You had needed to recharge the toy one already, and it had only been a day. The water in the shower couldn’t get cold enough to cool you down. Your core ached, constantly, and your thighs had a near constant mess of slick spread along them. You were delirious with the unfathomable sensations you had been unwillingly wrapped in.

With a cry, and your soaked fingers at your clit, you orgasmed, weakly. The release wasn’t nearly enough. You twisted, and bit down on your pillow as you cried, just a little. This was terrible. And all because of Alastor. You thought of his nasty jokes, and how cruel he could be. You thought on sharp eyes, and sharper smiles. You thought of his claws, and a soft grasp around your throat, slowly tightening as a normally clear voice grunted and huffed. You pulled your vibrator out again. With something in you snapping, you kept thinking of his slim hips, and broad chest. The way his hands twitched and grasped at his microphone. His leer and the way his eyes followed you when you walked into the room. His laugh, when he was angry with someone. The way he had shown you to handle a weapon before you fought the angels. The angry look he gave you when you yelled at him weeks later. You thought of his hands wrapping around your wrist, and his chest hovering over your back as lithe hips pressed against your ass.

You came with another cry, the white-hot feeling surging through you.

Shame filled you up. You were a hypocrite too, it seemed.

It was dark. Your head was fuzzy, and you couldn’t place the time of day. You sat up, the room spinning as your heart settled. Something smelled good. Your eyes fluttered as you took it in. After a moment, you flicked your eyes around the room, and in the chair by the window was a figure.

You screeched. It wasn’t terribly loudly, but it made the figure twitch. You dove to the lamp by your beside, and quickly flicked it on. As the warm light filled the room, it flashed across his eyes, and the look alone made you gasp.

“Alastor?” You whispered. What the fuck was he doing in your room?

“Oh, ma bichette.” His voice was rougher than normal, something dark tinging it.

“What the fuck are you doing in my room, Alastor?” Despite the yearning in the pit of your belly, and the aching you had suffered through for days, this was beyond not okay. Alarm bells were ringing in the back of your head, and you couldn’t fathom why he would break into your room.

“Oh, ma chérie. I have felt that burn for days, and in your absence it grew worse.” His head cocked, and his eyes flashed in the light again. His hair looked strange, as if it was nearly damp. Something in his smile was unhinged. Your chest tugged and ached, and you had to fight to focus through the tingling in your fingers. “I could smell you, and this ache, this hunger I have never known, only grew worse.”

He stood from the chair, and you leaned back on your hands, ready to twist and run if you needed to. His tall form drew your gaze up his shape. Your mind struggled to focus on any one thing, and it was hard to hold onto your anger, like this.

“It is impolite, to come in like this, but I need. And I can tell you do too.” He walked towards you, and leaned over you. Your conflicting feelings about the situation caused you to hesitate. You leaned back, your back meeting your sheets, and your knees bent, as if your legs could stop him from advancing. You were right, in that they would not, because a moment later, he was crawling over you, forearms flat on either side of your head. “I will leave if you ask it of me, my dear. But I ask that you let me pleasure you,” he whispered to you. His sharp teeth clacked as he glanced over your form. “Let me relieve us of this.”

One of his hands brushed some of your damp hair from your forehead, and the look on his face nearly flat lined you. He looked so strange. You couldn’t pinpoint what it was. His eyes were soft and gazing at you with some unknown feeling gleaming in them. His mouth was slanted, and his teeth glittering in the low light — Your train of thought halted as you realized he wasn’t smiling. He wasn’t smiling. What the fuck? What could have done that? Your eyes widened, and you could only stare as his thumb strayed to your lips and tugged at the bottom lip.

“What do you say, my dear?” His gaze caught yours, and you could barely breathe.

“I hate you,” you said. “I hate you, especially for this.”

Something flickered across his face, but he didn’t pull away. “I know, mon cœur. You have many reasons, but this isn’t about that. I merely wish to ease our suffering. Your suffering.”

You wanted to cry. How fucking dare he? How dare he be so terrible on a daily basis, and yet so kind now? You wanted to scream. You could feel tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. It felt so unfair. But you were desperate, and he was offering to touch you, something he didn’t like to do. You knew his reputation, his dislike and disregard for things of a sexual nature, and yet here he was, crossing that boundary with you. (Something in you hurt, knowing that someone who hated him would be crossing that line with him, not someone who loved him or cared for him in any capacity. Maybe that was his Hell).

“Fine. Fuck. Fine. We can fuck, just, I don’t know. No kissing. And I uh, I’d like to be on my belly.” You didn’t want to look at him. (You knew it was the thought of him that got you off so many times, but the idea of really seeing him, bothered you in a way you couldn’t explain). His face twitched, but he nodded.

“I understand, ma bichette.” He pet your hair, again, and rubbed a thumb across your forehead, and he took a deep breath in. “Alright, dear, ass up.”

Your eyes widened, and you gulped down the little moisture in your mouth. With deep, steady breaths, you turned over, maneuvering on the bed with twitching limbs. You pressed your chest against the bed, aching at the tenderness in your breasts. Your hands held onto the sheets tightly, and your ears twitched and pressed flat against your skull. Your tail sprung straight, and you could hear Alastor let out a breathy chuckle. The sound of clasps and zippers coming undone made your tail wag, and you could feel one of his hands swat at the fluffy bundle of fur at the base of your spine.

“Excited, dearest?” His voice carried in the quiet room. You couldn’t reply with words. You were so conflicted. You hated him acutely, and yet here you were. Something akin to giddiness was building in your chest. Your tail wagged harder. You hoped he didn’t take it as an answer.

You could feel his warm body lean over yours a moment later. He was so much bigger than you. It was clear with how wide his shoulders were, and how his long legs cradled yours easily. One of his forearms settled beside yours, and his face rested in the crux of your shoulder. Sharp teeth lightly grazed the skin there, while hot breath fanned over your back. Soft touches on the swell of your ass, creeping over your hip, and then cupping your mound softly. (How could he be so soft in this, and yet so harsh? Your mind was buzzing so loud).

“Stop thinking, mon trésor.” His finger grazed your clit, and your mind went quiet. Oh, you had forgotten what it was like being touched by someone else.

His fingers moved with focus from there, and your legs twitched. You huffed, and closed your eyes, letting the sensations fall over you. Soon, with the gentle touches getting firmer, and more precise, your thighs were getting slick. Small sounds left your clenched teeth. (It felt good, but the petty part of you wanted to deprive him of the satisfaction of your noises).

Alastor’s hand moved, and suddenly one finger was sinking into your heat. You groaned, and your back arched.

“Oh, continuer ma chère. Je veux vous entendre.” His voice is coarse, but his finger curls, and you can’t even try and translate his whispered words. Your body trembles as he slips in a second finger. His thumb catches your clit, and your mind is a muddled mess. Your resolve to remain silent shatters, and your voice leaves your throat with no control.

“Oh, Alastor,” you say. Your eyes flutter, and you clench down on his fingers. He grunts, and thrusts them a little harder.

“When you are ready, my dear, come for me. And then we can move on to the main event.” His words attempt for nonchalance, but the way he struggles to get them out has you internally laughing. It stops when his erection, clear as day, rubs against your ass. Your hips twitch, pressing against him. “Oh,” he grunts. “Not yet dear.”

He twists his hand, and presses his chest against your back. His hand on the bed grabs at yours, and he intertwines your fingers. Teeth scratch at your shoulder, and the sudden flood of sensory information sends you over a line you didn’t know you were near.

“Ah! Alastor,” You cry, and fire flicker up your core, and in your veins. You clench hard on his fingers, and his ever present static swells in response. (Although, with how much your hands and face tingle, it could be in your head).

“Oh, yes.” His head settles against your shoulder blade, and his hand slowly pulls from your core. His wet fingers graze your hip with soft touches, and the hand holding yours rubs softly. “So good for me, dearest. My doe. So good.”

Your chest aches, and you want to cry. How fucking dare he hit the fucking nail on the head? Your breath hitches, and you have to work to not cry.

“Oh, my dear.” He sits up, and the loss of his heat nearly makes your tears fall. You can’t fathom why you’re suddenly emotional, but it won’t waver in its intensity. His face settles in your sight line. “Are you alright, dear?” His lets go of yours, and cradles the back of your head. “Did I hurt you?”

You want to cry. Fuck him. Fuck this. How dare he. A tear slips before you can stop it, and his eyes narrow, something nearly concerned looking, crossing his expression.

“No. Fuck you. I hate you,” you can barely finish the sentence before a hint of a sob leaves you. “I hate you. I hate you. Just fuck me already.”

His brows furrow, and the red of his eyes glints as he manages a nod. “If that’s what you desire,” he says, and then he’s behind you again.

His hands are on your hips, and you hear skin against skin, and then he’s gently prodding you with the thick head of his cock. Alastor presses his cock into your soaking entrance slowly, and you worry about his size for a moment. But then, he’s pressing more firmly, and your thoughts halt. Electricity is shooting up your spine as he sinks into you. You internally thank him fro prepping you with his fingers, because he’s packing more than you would have expected.

A sharp breath from him, and then his hips snap against yours. “Hah, sorry, dearest.” His breaths are rough, and you feel his hands squeeze your hips hard. “I had intended to go slower, but this is-” He bends over you again, and his chest is against your back, and he’s grasping at the sheet with you. “You’re so good, my dear. Better than I could have ever-”

His hips snap again, and your body jolts. You gasp as he presses his hips against your ass, pushing as far he can get. You feel so tight. Everything is hot, and all you can think about is him. Your tail brushes against his belly as he starts to set a rhythm. All the pain you had been in, and you were starting to feel like it might have been worth it.

One of his hand wraps around your waist, over your breasts, and his hand settles on your neck. “Let me know if you wish me to stop,” he huffs, and then he’s squeezing your throat, just slightly.

You mewl, and roll your hips against him. “Oh yes. Little doe. You are so good for me.” The way he says makes you moan again, and you huff as he squeezes your throat again.

The pace he sets is just under what you need, and it makes you hate him more. Part of you knows what he’s waiting for, and you dread it. It’s within mere moments, though, that you cave, and open your mouth.

“Alastor, please,” you say. Your voice is weak, with how hard it is to take a full breath. Your body is pressed into the mattress, and with the stinging breaths you attempt to take with each thrust, and the light squeeze of his hand around your neck, you struggle.

His hand loosens, as if he can read your mind. “What is it, dearest,” He asks. “Use your words. I know you can.”

You sigh, and nearly yell at him when his hips stop, giving you time to speak up. You roll your eyes, and nearly beg, “Please, just a little faster.”

You can hear the smile when he responds, “Of course, my doe,” and then his pace starts up again, faster, and just a tinge harder, than it had been before. Your toes curl and your hands grasp at the sheets.

That heat was growing again, low in your belly. Your thighs were aching, and your back was as arched as you could get it. Sweat was dripping down your back, and all you could think is that you wanted more.

“Alastor,” you moaned, and grunted back. As you clenched down on his cock, the heat grew, and you could feel tight wires wrapping around your core.

“Oh, ma biche, tu es si bonne pour moi.” His fingers found your clit again, and he rubbed with focus. “So good. You are so good.” He kept repeating it like a mantra, and you couldn’t handle it anymore.

The wires snapped, and your body went white-hot. You couldn’t see, and you stopped being able to hear more than garbled syllables and the rhythmic thumping of the headboard against the wall.

Your body went taut, and you clenched down. You could hear his voice grow sharp and ragged, but nothing more as he kept thrusting.

When you finally settled enough to focus your hearing, you could hear Alastor muttering to himself. And then he went still. “Do you want me to leave my seed in you, or no?”

Your breath caught. Fuck, you hadn’t thought about that. Without thinking too much, you whispered, “In.”

You watch one of his hands tighten on the bed, sharp claws piercing the fabric. (you’d make him replace it for sure, jerk). Without much warning, he starts his pace again, his thrusts nearly brutal. His grunts and murmuring start up again, and it’s only moments before you feel him twitch, and then heat filling you. He curls around you, head pressed between your shoulder blades.

You stay sitting like that for a few minutes, before he slowly extricates himself from around you and pulls his cock from your slick entrance. When he returns with a warm, damp rag and cleans you up, you refuse to make eye contact. When he picks up the dirty sheets, and bring you clean ones, you stare at the floor. It’s when he brings you water, and tucks you into bed, you finally look up at him.

“I hate you,” you tell him.

His face is neutral, and he nods. “I know.”

“This changes nothing,” you say.

And he nods, letting his normal smile pop back on his face. “I know.”

Hi, please let me know how this was? I'm really awkward about this kind of stuff, and it makes me a tiny bit anxious. Anyways! I hope you liked it. Should I add an 18+ taglist? Also, I have a few asks and stuff that will be posted soon. House hunting has been going terribly. The market is awful, and I am just sad :(

#alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor #bun's short fics #alastor fanfiction #alastor x you #hazbin hotel fanfiction #fanfic #alastor x reader smut #smut #hazbin hotel smut

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pinkie-quinns · 3 months ago

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rocker eddie/actor steve | exes to ????? (yearners?) | fame au p5

p1 p2 p3 p4 interlude p6

Steve says he's flying out to New York for meetings. That’s what he tells everyone. That’s what he does. He's courteous, even lets Eddie know he’s in the city, that he can maybe, maybe stop by his place later.

But he doesn’t tell Eddie he’s coming to the show.

He gets there late, hangs at the very back of the venue, the nosebleed cheap seats. He’s in uniform, black jeans and scraggled tee. Bit of liner under his eyes, baseball hat and shitty prop wig he stole from set. It should be enough for most people to not look at him twice.

It’s the worst spot he’s ever had at one of Eddie’s gigs, but he couldn’t take the “I’m with the band" seats Eddie had offered him. Like he’s still some kind of accessory. Couldn’t take the c-list celebrity box seats either. Cause, well– he’s not supposed to be here.

Eddie’s a blip on the stage from where Steve’s standing, but it makes his idiotic traitorous heart swoop all the same. He’s only been on tour for a month. Steve wasn’t supposed to miss him this bad.

He’s really not supposed to be here.

Eddie's solo stuff has always been too wordy, too raw. Like he’s Dylan in the body of a metal star. It makes Steve's gut sore.

It’s mostly songs from his latest album, at least. Seemed like Eddie had a bad run in with benzos last year. Which also kinda makes his gut sore.

Eddie plays the hits. It's been years but the ones from "Penitence" cut like fresh wounds. The crowd goes wild for Dead Weight. But Pavlov's got the one-up on Steve. Those first three chords still make him want to crawl out of his skin.

It’s nearing the end now and Eddie drops the band, walks up to the front of the stage with just the spotlight on him. He’s holding Lucky, the old pawn-shop acoustic Wayne got him when he was twelve. He used to strum it between joints in the back of the van.

He’s– he’s nervous.

He coughs into the mic. “Hey uh, um, I've got something special for tonight. I don’t really do covers and uh, especially not ones that–” He cringes, grits his teeth, “Well, this isn’t exactly my sound.”

It was unsettling how nervous he was. Steve could fill journals full all of Eddie’s fuck-ups and flaws (and he has, many, many times.) But performing? That was undeniable, coded into his DNA. Eddie was a great performer. He was never nervous on stage.

Eddie's hands tremor at the tuning keys. “But uh, someone couldn’t make it tonight- a um, well. An old friend.”

Shit.

“–And he really used to really love this one.”

Shit shit shit shit.

“So, uh, yeah. Sing along if you know it.”

Steve knows it. One chord in and he knows it–

It’s Dave fucking Matthews. Eddie hates Dave Matthews. He's the total opposite of anything Eddie considered worthy art. His sound, his look, his ability to fill stadiums with every guy that wears sandals in a 50-mile radius, everything.

More importantly, Eddie’s fans hate Dave Matthews. If they don’t, they keep that close to their chest. Hell, not even– Steve spent enough of his early twenties bopping around dive bars with Eddie's crowds. They'd take that shit to their grave.

Eddie's already on thin ice with most of them.

Steve knows most of them resented the experimental sound of the new album, knows sales are low. He’s heard enough of Eddie's 3 AM pillow talk bitching about it.

There’s multiple audible groans. Someone in front of Steve whispers, “What the actual fuck.” in total disbelief.

But Steve doesn’t register it. Not really. Not over the blood rushing in his ears. Over the sound of Eddie crooning, “Who’s got their claws in you, my friend? Into your heart I’ll beat again."

Truth was, he hadn’t listened to that song, that whole album, in over a decade.

Steve would start up the car, like always and “So Much to Say” would play, like always. But there were no loud puking noises from the passenger seat, no pile of empty, over-dramatic threats. Just dust in the sunlight where someone had loved him, once.

And he couldn't stomach it.

He can't stomach it now. Eddie in front of 13,000 people. Shaky and vulnerable and too-himself for them all to bear witness.

It’s– fuck. Steve’s nineteen and the bimmer’s out of gas and Eddie’s cursing this song out, but his hand is under Steve's sweater and it's warm.

The third verse now and Eddie's crooning about forgiveness, about begging and haste and “Holding you so, boy.”

"Boy". Not "Girl". Unmistakable.

Steve wonders if anyone noticed. Eddie’s not out, not really. But he dedicated a love song to an old friend. Maybe he is now.

Then it’s all too much. Too big for him to hold. The love and hurt and longing and bullshit and near-two decades worth of sludge dredging up his throat and crashing down, pulling him under.

Steve doesn’t wait for the song to end. He keeps his head down and skips out before the encore.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #twitter threads #fanfic #angst #fame au

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batboyblog · 1 month ago

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In the almost month since the election I’ve gone through so many emotions. I’ve felt hopelessly crushed, furious, overwhelmed, and just plain exhausted. I hate that this has happened, and that the orange shitstain is gonna put the most awful people in power. I’m not gonna lay down and die, but I’m just so tired of this. That man has slowly drained the hope out of this nation for the last ten years and I’m sick of it. I know this didn’t start with him, but he certainly emboldened blatant authoritarianism. I know every generation feels at some point the world is ending, but at this point it feels so difficult to try to have hope for the future. I believe we as a country can be better than this, but I’m not sure at the moment how we can get there.

I know the feeling, the tired part any ways.

in 2016 I was in the Hillary campaign and like we talked about HOW! bad Donald Trump could be, Hillary had a tweet "we can't trust a man who can be baited with a tweet with the nuclear codes" and for us inside the campaign we took all that very seriously for us it was not talk we meant it, we believed he was really dangerous, deeply corrupt possibly criminal already, and totally unqualified and unfit. And we said so, and no one took us seriously, I always remember a nice middle aged couple stopped at our office to get some signs they weren't from the state and were just passing through. But Democrats, supporters and I was trying to push them to maybe volunteer (as was my job) and I talked about how a Republican President (Ie Trump) could appoint up to 4 Supreme Court justices and they would surely do away with Roe V Wade. And They literally rolled their eyes at me and said "I know thats a good line but do you really believe that'd happen? they'd do away with Roe?" yes, yes we did.

So any ways I believed Trump 1.0 would be every bit as bad as it turned out to be, it was even on January 6th a little worse. So I went through the emotional roller coaster in 2016

2024 has been just sad, and tired.

But I do feel something growing in the guts of my soul, rage, pure burning rage. Someone once said that the thing that fuels every good activist is rage at the world for being imperfect. I don't know if thats right or true.

But it's whats getting me up in the morning, we offered hope, and kindness and a better world and they threw it back, well fuck 'em. This is my patch of dirt on god's good earth goddamn it and they can't fucking have it without a fight, I'm a miserable cockroach motherfucker, I will out fight them, out last them, and win and stand on the ashes of their fucking fascist dreams.

more to the point, I did feel like giving up, and saying "well they picked this, eyes wide open, now we all suffer, w/e" but I don't get to give up, Bill Clinton said "there are no permeant victories or defeats in politics" and he's right, this is the call and the cause, to struggle unendingly for the better world and if you're very lucky you live to see it turn a little and a new battle for the better of man kind than the one you spent your life on be engaged. For me personally, my nephew is trans, he's 17 looking at colleges, picking states that are safe for him. I don't have the power to protect him, I did EVERYthing in my power to stop this, because of him, and for him, I'll be out there again and again and again. I wish deals with the devil were real because I'd just go to hell so he could be safe and happy, but sadly only hard work and uncertain outcomes are real.

I have no easy answers, no clean hope of a better world or a better America about to be born from the bitter ashes of this election. Harvey Milk said "I know you cannot live on Hope alone, but without it life is not worth living" And the last 10 years, the forces of darkness have across all of society, wearing many different faces tried to take hope out of our souls, and its brought us here. My favorite speech is by Ann Richards and I quote the end a lot, but here I'll quote something she said way way back in 1988

This Republican Administration treats us as if we were pieces of a puzzle that can’t fit together. They've tried to put us into compartments and separate us from each other. Their political theory is “divide and conquer.” They’ve suggested time and time again that what is of interest to one group of Americans is not of interest to any one else. We’ve been isolated. We’ve been lumped into that sad phraseology called “special interests.” ------ No wonder we feel isolated and confused. We want answers and their answer is that "something is wrong with you." Well nothing's wrong with you. Nothing’s wrong with you that you can’t fix in November! We've been told -- We've been told that the interests of the South and the Southwest are not the same interests as the North and the Northeast. They pit one group against the other. They've divided this country and in our isolation we think government isn’t gonna help us, and we're alone in our feelings. We feel forgotten. Well, the fact is that we are not an isolated piece of their puzzle. We are one nation. We are the United States of America.

in the 2020s we're doing it to ourselves but its helping the cynical just as much. Each of us trapped on our phones in our own personal self made hell, well not self made, there are algorithms feeling you stories designed to make you feel like shit, because when you feel like shit you stay on-line, and keep doom scrolling. We're divided and our culture, the way we speak to each other it only makes us more divided, we're rubbery and inauthentic.

So I guess, you want hope, get out there and find something you believe in and fight for it, there's a local candidate near you I'm sure you can believe in, a ballot measure, a local group, something, and break the isolation we have to talk again because if we don't, well its already eaten us alive and we're trying to get out of the whale.

#political #politics #rambling #Democrats #american politics #us politics

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spacedace · 2 years ago

Text

Here have some snippets of the AU that’s taken over my brain (featuring Elle unintentionally dunking on both of Bruce’s identities, Clark realizing he passed his taste in partners on to his son, a bit of pre/unaware that they are dating Super Serious Chaos, and some blink-and-you-miss-it background Enemies to Lovers Dick/Dan)

---

“Sorry, who’s Bruce Wayne?”

The room when quiet. All heads turned to look at Elle at the end of the table. Bruce didn’t visibly react, but Clark could make out the subtle indication of disbelief that his old friend was feeling - that they all were feeling at the interpreter’s question. Elle, suddenly aware she had the full room’s attention, had the look of someone who realized they’d said something wrong, but didn’t know what.

“You’re kidding.” John said, “You know Bruce Wayne. Everyone knows Bruce Wayne.”

Elle blinked. “I don’t.” She glanced from face to face, “Is he like a big deal? Does he work here or something? I haven’t been around that long so I might have missed him.”

It took every bit of self control Clark had not to laugh. His voice still came out a bit strangled from the effort as he offered, “No he doesn’t work here.” If Bruce was the type to do so in uniform, he’d be kicking Clark under the table.

“You live in Gotham. You have to know Bruce Wayne.” Barry said, voice going a bit high with growing bewilderment. “Mega ba-jillionair. CEO of Wayne Tech? Richest man in Gotham - in the world? Has like a hundred kids?”

Their interpreter’s nose scrunched. “So he’s like…in one of those fundamentalist cults obsessed with having a bunch of kids or something?”

Bruce actually twitched at that. The sound of utter disgust in Elle’s voice at the concept, the complete and total lack of any kind of recognition she had for the single most famous non-crime or crime-fighting related person in the city that she lived in, she truly had no idea who they were talking about. Clark had to get a recording of the room’s security feed, Lois would love this. Oh, wait no, Bruce’s kids. Maybe if he was fast enough he could text Dick to get there ASAP so he could see it all in person before it was over.

“No! Nothing like that! He adopted them - well most of them.” Barry tried to explain, looking utterly lost as he turned from Elle to the rest of them and back again. “You’re messing with us right? This is like a joke?”

Elle shook her head, looking just as lost as Barry did. “I have no idea who you’re talking about.”

“Do you know Dick Grayson?”

“I know of an officer Grayson who is a dick. Total tool. He’s been making my brother’s Dan’s life miserable for like a year now. Pretty sure not who you’re talking about though.”

“Jason Todd.”

“The library goon?”

“Tim Drake.”

“Sounds like a Dark Wing Duck character.”

“Cassandra Cain.”

“Isn’t that the author that started out writing incest Harry Potter fanfic?”

“Duke Thomas?”

“What’s he a Duke of?”

Barry snapped his fingers, pointing emphatically at Elle with a look of victory on his masked face as he shouted, “Damian Wayne!”

Damian, who had at that moment just walked into the meeting room with Jon at his heels paused in his place just behind Elle. He did pretty well at hiding his surprise at Barry seemingly shouting his civilian name and pointing at him upon walking in. Though the tense line of his shoulders suggested that if Barry was actually revealing his secret identity without warning or permission, there would be blood.

Stella Nightingale, unaware of the almost-kinda identity reveal going on around her, tilted her head in confusion at the speedster. “I’m assuming he’s related to that Bruce Wayne guy?”

“They’re all related to Bruce Wayne.” John said with open amusement now. The Green Lantern had given up on the research entirely, watching the entire debacle with a growing smirk he kept casting towards Bruce. “That man’s face is plastered absolutely everywhere in the news. How do you not know who he is?”

“If Lois Lane hasn’t written about him he can’t be that important.” Elle said with a casual certainty of one speaking a core tenant of their beliefs. Clark’s opinion of the young woman - already quite high considering her ferocious loyalty and fondness to Jon - rose sharply.

“You’re read the Daily Planet?” Clark asked, warmth curling in his chest at the mention of his wife and her work.

“I read articles by Lois Lane.” Elle said promptly, “I tried reading some articles that Kent guy she partners with sometimes wrote on his own but I couldn’t get past his writing style. Dude sounds like he’s from outer space with his word choice sometimes.”

Bruce, looking far too pleased, gave a quiet and not terribly convincing cough as Clark tried to will his soul back into his body.

It was going to be a long day.

—

“You are at least aware of who Gotham’s vigilantes are, yes?” Damian asked with a raised brow behind his mask.

Elle shrugged, giving him a sly smile. “The relevant ones.”

Clark tried to hide his short laugh with a feigned cough. Elle at least was distracted enough with Jon and Damian’s attention to notice but Bruce was giving him a look over the tablet he was trying - and undoubtedly failing - to review files on.

Jon grinned eagerly from his spot beside Elle as he asked, “Aren’t they all relevant to you? You live in Gotham.”

“I live in Crime Alley.” Elle corrected, bumping his shoulder with hers. “We have different standards of relevancy there.”

“So what are the relevant ones then?” Clark asked, pointedly ignoring Bruce’s burning stare. They’d get back to the research. Eventually. Finding out if the Gothamite who had been spending all her free time with Phoenix and Flamebird for the past year and a half was as oblivious to her city’s heroes as she was its celebrities was too entertaining a notion to pass up.

“Phoenix, obviously.” She grinned cheekily at Damian across the table, ticking names off her fingers as she continued. “Red Hood. Spoiler. Uh…Orphan?” She trailed off, forehead scrunching in concentrated thought.

“That’s can’t be all the ones you know.” Jon gaped, eyes sparkling with amusement as he glanced over to were Bruce was seated, not five feet away before turning back to watch Elle try to rack her brain for any more Gotham vigilantes. Clark could see the moment that the words are taken as a challenge as Elle sat up and looked more determined.

“No, shut up, I know more. Uh…there’s the one, um Red Sparrow? It’s another bird one with red name, I’m pretty sure. And the one with the blue - fuck I should know his name. Nightjar? Wasn’t Nightingale I would have remembered that…shit, dude threw up on our couch once I should remember his name -“

“Nightwing threw up on your couch?”

“Nightwing! That’s the bitch! He got poisoned or something and Dan drug him to our place to patch him up since Doc Thompkins’ clinic was closed.”

Clark shared a look with Bruce and Damian. Dick had failed to mention that little event. Clark could see Bruce reaching for his wrist computer, undoubtedly typing out a message his eldest about what he’d just heard - possibly another to Alfred if he was feeling like pulling out the big guns.

At the other end of the table Elle ticked Nightwing off with a nod, even as Jon squawked that it shouldn’t count since he’d given her the name, “Then there’s…uh…oh! Harley Quinn!”

“Harley Quinn does not count.”

“She beat up a guy trying to mug me last week and got me a hot chocolate afterwards, she totally counts!”

“Someone tried to mug you?”

“Crime Alley, Nix, if someone doesn’t try to mug me while I’m out I get worried that I missed Hood calling in a Street Clear for something big.”

“We’re going to circle back on that later.” Jon said, sharing a pointed glance with Damian. It looked like young Miss Nightingale was going to be getting escorted to and from the Watchtower from now on.

Ah, Clark mused, falling head over heels for someone with no understanding of the concept of self-preservation and a stubborn determination to run straight into the heart of danger without a second thought. It brought back such fond memories. Of both Lois and Bruce. And Diana. And - Hmm. Kara might have been right. Clark might have a type.

Watching the three at the other end of the table and taking them in, Clark realized he might have passed his taste in partners on to his son. Well, at least he’ll be able to give Jon some advise on how to handle the heart attacks Damian and Elle will inevitably give him.

“Harley Quinn doesn’t count. You got any more?”

Elle rolled her eyes, muttering about Harley totally counts, before leaning back in her chair. “I think I’m out. I know there’s more but,” She gave a shrug, “I’m tapped out. Those are all the ones I can think of.”

It was, surprisingly, Bruce that spoke up at that declaration, a slant of amusement to his lips as he asked, “No one else comes to mind?”

Elle waved him off, attention turning to the mountain of alien script they needed her to translate for them. It was the reason she was even there rather than in her office trying to translate whatever incredibly dangerous magic tomb JL Dark had dropped off without accidentally summoning a demon or ending hte world in the process. J’onn was right, they really should give her a raise.“That’s all I got.” She said with a sigh, “Like I said, I know the relevant ones.”

“Hn.”

Twenty minutes of shared looks of amusement and suppressed laughter later Elle’s head shot up, a look of wide eyed embarrassment on her face. “Oh my god.”

“There it is.”

“About time Nightingale, I was starting to be concerned about your mental faculties.”

“Shut up, this so embarrassing!”

“Don’t sweat it kid, we all have our moments.”

“I can’t believe I forgot Signal.”

“What.”

---

Context of this snippet if anyone is interested:

This is actually the same AU as the Steph & Jason sibling bonding Anger Management snippet from a bit ago (I’m calling it my Ghosts in Gotham AU in scrivener so I guess that’s what I’ll call it here lol). This time focused on Elle and her misadventures as a Totally Normal Civilian (TM) working for the Justice League with her two besties Jon & Damian (none of them realize yet that they’ve been dating for months).

No idea when this is supposed to take place in terms of timeline with the other snippet, but kinda vibing the idea that while Steph & Jason are having a heart to heart on a rooftop over their shared background and Jason’s future as a dad, Elle is up in the Watchtower telling Bruce Wayne to his face that she has no idea who he is and forgetting Batman is a Gotham vigilante while he’s sitting at the same table as her.

Anyway, this AU has taken over my life. Expect more nonsense to come lol

#dp x dc #dc x dp #dpxdc #dani phantom #danielle phantom #super serious chaos #superseriouschaos #jon kent #jon el kent #Damian Wayne #clark kent #justice league #bruce wayne #barry allen #john stewart #ghosts in gotham au #batfam #elle doesn't pay any attention to the famous people in gotham unless they're trying to kill her or save her #and she might not even pay attention then #and yes this is more of my headcanon that the Justice League is the world's biggest polycule #no i will never let that headcanon go i love it too much #there's a version of this world where Elle never figures out that Bruce Wayne is supposed to be kind of a big deal #years in the future she Dami & Jon are married & she has a new friend she's made over for lunch #and they see some of the family photos and are like #is that fucking Bruce Wayne at your wedding?#Elle - oblivious: oh you know my father-in-law?#Bruce gets unmasked before Elle knows about everyone's identities & he's freaking out while she's just #full lex luthor moment: I have no idea who this is #Bruce: you know who I am now #Elle - does not know who he is but doesn't want to admit to it guessing: Clark Kent?

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lili863 · 28 days ago

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oh I have a request! <3

Ominis x fem MC where Seb is a total ladies man and charms the pants off of every girl in school... every girl BUY MC who is picky and knows what she deserves. Seb is frustrated by this and keeps trying to win her over. Ominis finds this deeply amusing and becomes interested in MC. MC falls for Omi <3 Seb is jealous for a while but he's ultimately happy for them in the end.

BYSTANDER

Ominis x MC Feat: Playboy! Sebastian

Warning: Mature language, suggestive themes, jealousy, BANTER, pining, slight angst if you squint

AN: I AM ASHAMED TO EVEN POST THIS. This sweet anon asked me this mind you MONTHS if not half a year ago. I wrote this half way then got swarmed with other WIP and school. Please forgive me anon, if your still here, I hope I did this justice.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Sebastian wasn’t sure what drew him to you. You were already the talk of the school as the new fifth year. Perhaps it was the quiet confidence you exuded as you walked to his table, oblivious to all the stares coming your way. Or maybe it was the captivating allure of your cascading black locks or the enigmatic pull of your dark eyes, which seemed to beckon him whenever your paths crossed.

It was no secret that you were breathtaking. But it wasn’t just your beauty—it was the mystery surrounding you, the aura of intrigue that made Sebastian restless.

Your voice, your smile, your laughter—everything about you seemed perfect. At least, that’s what Sebastian thought, though he couldn’t comprehend how a girl like you existed.

It all started after you handed him his first defeat in Professor Hecat’s class—in record time, no less.

He vividly recalled approaching you afterward with his signature charming grin, complimenting your dueling skills. The reward for his effort? That enchanting smile of yours. In that moment, his heart skipped a beat, a delightful flutter stirring in the pit of his stomach.

What was that feeling? he wondered. And why did it appear only with you?

Whatever it was, Sebastian was determined to find out.

His toothy, boyish grin made an appearance, a mischievous twinkle lighting up his eyes. “So, what do you say, fifth year? Up for some private sessions?”

You hummed softly before shaking your head. “Unfortunately, I’m a bit busy this week. Perhaps next time?”

The way his face fell for just a moment was something he hoped you didn’t catch. He’d expected you to fold, maybe even blush bashfully like every other girl did. Instead, you met his gaze directly, your expression unwavering and polite—the same one you offered everyone else. It wasn’t the rejection that stung, but rather the indifference.

Still, Sebastian mustered a confident smile. “Of course. Not a problem. Let me know if you’re ever up for it. Next time, though, don’t expect the same outcome.”

You chuckled lightly, offering a polite smile. “That remains to be seen, Sallow. I’ll see you in class.”

Even the way you walked away was perfect. Did that pretty face of yours ever change?

Sebastian twirled his wand absently, a smirk tugging at his lips. He often found himself wondering what you’d look like with a blush on your cheeks or a hint of shyness in your eyes. Did your heart race as fast as his did?

And for Merlin’s sake, would you ever consider tying that long, silky hair into a ponytail just once—so he could get a better view of your neck?

He cursed himself, trying to shove such thoughts aside. He barely knew you. But resisting the pull of your presence was proving harder than he anticipated.

***************

“It’s like I’m invisible, Ominis,” Sebastian grumbled.

Ominis, his chin propped on his hand, smirked lazily as he listened. “Looks like you’ve finally met a girl with standards.”

Sebastian shot him a glare. “Hilarious. Remind me again why I even bother talking to you about this?”

Ominis straightened slightly, amusement still evident on his face. “Sebastian, you flirt with every girl in this castle. Forgive me if I’m struggling to see why this one is any different.”

Sebastian paused, his hands stilling over his cauldron. “What do you mean? I like her. Why else?”

Ominis’s brow arched skeptically. “And you’ve liked plenty of girls before. Yet you’re whining like a wounded Hippogriff. What makes her special?”

Sebastian fell silent, your face flashing in his mind.

Ominis sighed, rubbing his temples. “Let me guess—she’s immune to your charms, isn’t she?”

Sebastian bristled. “That’s not it! She’s… she’s intriguing, alright? Something about her is different.”

“Different how?” Ominis leaned back, his arms crossed. “Go on, convince me.”

“She’s…” Sebastian hesitated, then spoke with a mixture of admiration and frustration. “She’s beautiful, obviously. Her hair, her eyes… but it’s more than that. She’s graceful, confident, and bloody brilliant in dueling. I’ve never met anyone like her.”

Ominis tilted his head, his lips twitching into a smirk. “So, she’s gorgeous, skilled, and not falling for your nonsense. Sounds to me like you’re chasing her because she’s unattainable.”

Sebastian scowled. “It’s not like that.”

“Then why don’t you know a thing about her beyond how she looks?”

That stung. Sebastian opened his mouth to retort but found himself at a loss. It was true—most of their conversations had revolved around his life: Anne, Solomon, and his relentless search for a cure. You listened, supported, and even helped him… but he knew little about you in return.

Disappointed by Sebastian's response, Ominis toyed with the ladle in his hand. What was he expecting?

He understood why Sebastian was attracted to you. Being physically beautiful and polite was more than enough for people blessed with sight. But, for him, whose affections were tethered to the depth of one's character, he found himself at a loss.

Ominis heard Sebastian shuffle next to him before muttering, "Speak of the devil."

Instantly, he straightened up, finding himself eagerly awaiting the upcoming encounter.

"Hello Sebastian. Hello Ominis."

Your voice was sweet as always, but Ominis could tell it always held some level of restraint.

"Hello, MC," Ominis replied smoothly, inclining his head toward the sound of your voice.

"Hey," Sebastian greeted, flashing a charming smile, "Already done with your potion?"

"That I am."

"You're making the rest of us look bad, fifth year. Must you feel the need to be great at everything?"

A melodic laugh pushed past your lips. "Oh, flattery right from the start? You really are shameless, Sallow."

Sebastian smirked, leaning against the table. "What can I say? I have my talents."

You shook your head in amusement. "Talents? Sure, if you count an inflated ego."

Ominis’s lips quirked upward, listening to the exchange with a quiet sense of satisfaction.

Sebastian’s grin widened as he leaned forward. "Speaking of talents, what are you doing tonight?"

You raised an eyebrow, your lips twitching into a smirk. "Homework. You know, the thing you’re always avoiding?"

"I prefer to think of it as delegating," Sebastian shot back, unfazed. "Speaking of which, I could really use your help in the library tonight. Eight inches on cup transfiguration—it’s practically cruel."

You hummed thoughtfully, shifting your weight. "With me? Are you sure? I hear Madeline’s quite the expert. Maybe she’d be a better fit."

"Madeline’s fine, but she’s not you," Sebastian countered smoothly, shrugging. "Besides, I’d rather spend the evening with someone whose company I actually enjoy."

"An evening of company or an evening of antics?" you teased, your tone light but pointed.

Sebastian feigned innocence, placing a hand over his chest. "Antics? Me? You wound me."

"Good," you replied breezily. "Maybe it’ll keep you honest Sallow."

Sebastian’s grin faltered, only to return with renewed determination. "Come on, MC… say it."

You blinked, tilting your head. "Say what?"

"My name," Sebastian pressed, his voice low and cajoling. "It’s Sebastian. Not Sallow."

Your lips parted as if to respond, but your gaze suddenly shifted. In an instant, you darted forward, grabbing Ominis’s wrist just as he moved to drop an ingredient into his cauldron.

"Ominis, wait!" you exclaimed, your fingers closing around his arm.

"What the—?" Ominis started, freezing under your touch.

You spoke quickly, your voice steady. "That’s Dugbog tongue. It’ll explode if you mix it now."

Ominis’s brows knitted. "Dugbog tongue? I thought it was a leech."

"Common mistake," you replied with a small smile, releasing his arm. "They feel almost identical."

Ominis let out a low chuckle, his expression softening. "Unfortunately, you’re right. Thanks for saving me from a very unpleasant end."

Sebastian, who had been watching the exchange with growing irritation, cleared his throat loudly. "Yes, thanks, MC. Always so observant."

You turned back to Sebastian, your lips curving into an amused smirk. "You’re welcome, Sallow."

Ominis huffed out a small laugh as Sebastian face fell.

As you gathered your things to leave, you glanced back at Ominis. "I’ll see you both later. Try not to blow up the classroom."

With that, you were gone, leaving Sebastian seething and Ominis… smiling?

"What’s so funny?" Sebastian snapped.

Ominis tilted his head, his smirk growing. "Oh, nothing. Just amusing to watch someone who can actually keep you in line."

Sebastian huffed. "She’s not keeping me in line. She’s…"

"Resistant to your charms? Immune to your flattery?" Ominis offered dryly. "Do go on."

Sebastian shot him a glare. "You’re insufferable."

"And you’re predictable," Ominis quipped, his smirk unwavering. "Do try to keep up, Sallow. You’re losing ground."

The dark-haired male huffed, irritated by Ominis, and returned to stirring his cauldron, trying to swallow his frustration. He barely had a moment to regain his composure when a voice called out.

“Hey, Sebastian.”

He turned sharply, his trademark smirk slipping effortlessly into place. “Well, well, look who it is.”

“Merlin, Sebastian,” Ominis muttered, his tone dripping with exasperation at the return of his friend’s unmistakable flirty demeanor.

“What?” Sebastian shot back, not even bothering to glance at Ominis. His attention was fully occupied by the blonde-haired girl standing before him, her giggle doing nothing to temper his grin.

“MC was literally just standing here a few seconds ago,” Ominis pointed out dryly, his voice calm but pointed.

“Relax,” Sebastian said with an exaggerated shrug, patting Ominis’s arm dismissively. “I’m just being polite.”

Ominis tilted his head ever so slightly, a lopsided grin ghosting over his lips. “Polite,” he thought, “is that what they’re calling it these days?”

Meanwhile, Sebastian remained blissfully oblivious to your quiet observation from across the room. A flicker of something passed over your face as you caught sight of the scene. Without hesitation, you gathered your things, your movements deliberate but restrained, and turned away from the distraction.

Ominis, ever perceptive, turned his head in your direction as if sensing the subtle shift in the air.

The blonde-haired girl’s laugh rang out, cutting through the din of the classroom, but Ominis didn’t react. Instead, he leaned slightly toward Sebastian, his voice low and deliberate.

“Perhaps next time, try focusing on the person who’s actually worth your time,” Ominis murmured, his tone both sharp and laced with quiet amusement.

Sebastian faltered briefly, his grin flickering before he resumed his casual demeanor. “You’re enjoying this too much.”

Ominis allowed himself a faint smile. “Oh, I assure you, I’m only as entertained as the situation warrants.”

Sebastian rolled his eyes, trying to dismiss the weight of Ominis’s words. Yet, for a fleeting moment, his gaze darted across the room, landing on your retreating figure as you disappeared through the classroom door.

Ominis, ever attuned, didn’t need to see the shift in his friend’s demeanor to know exactly what had crossed his mind. He tapped the edge of his cauldron with deliberate precision and leaned back in his chair.

“Predictable as always, Sebastian,” he said softly, his smirk returning. “But at least you’re consistent.”

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

You walked down the dimly lit hallways of Hogwarts, your bag filled with every supply you and Sebastian could possibly need for your late-night study session. You’d even managed to snag a few snacks from the kitchens, hoping the treats might keep him focused. Of course, you knew it was wishful thinking. Half the time, Sebastian spent more energy charming you than actually working.

At first, you didn’t mind. He was charming—boyishly cute with a surprising nerdy streak most people didn’t notice. But then came the lingering glances and playful remarks he tossed at other girls when he thought you weren’t looking.

You sighed, shaking your head. Tonight, you’d focus on the task at hand—finishing the work Professor Weasley had so generously dumped on you both.

As you descended the grand staircase and pushed open the door to the library, your resolve faltered. Barely ten steps in, you spotted Sebastian. And… a girl.

Oh, for goodness’ sake.

The two were leaning close, soft laughter passing between them. You watched as Sebastian reached out to tuck a stray strand of the girl’s hair behind her ear. For a moment, you stood there, frozen in the middle of the library aisle. Should you interrupt?

Sebastian made the decision for you. Taking the girl’s hand, he led her toward a secluded corner, well out of your sight.

Your jaw tightened as you glanced at the clock. 7:01. He was already late.

You debated sitting down to start the work on your own, but the irritation bubbling inside you made that impossible. Yeah, forget it, you thought, spinning on your heel and heading straight back to the dorm.

It wasn’t jealousy, you told yourself firmly as you stormed through the corridors. No, you’d long accepted that Sebastian Sallow was a notorious flirt. And you didn’t despise him for it. Honestly, good for him. If anyone deserved a break from the relentless stress of life, it was Sebastian.

But the audacity to ask for your time—to make you gather supplies and prepare—only to waste it?

Unacceptable.

You slammed the door of your dorm behind you, letting out a frustrated huff. Truth be told, you didn’t care who Sebastian spent his evenings with. What grated on your nerves was his lack of respect for your time.

The next day, you found yourself by Ominis’s side during Professor Hecat’s class. The two of you had taken up residence in a quiet corner, observing the dueling practice from a safe distance. Ominis’s expression, as always, was one of calm amusement.

“So,” he began, a smirk tugging at his lips, “did I hear correctly that you ditched Sebastian last night?”

You huffed, a small smile forming despite yourself. “Yes. That’s exactly what I did.”

Ominis chuckled, shoving his hands into his pockets. “What exactly happened?”

Rolling your eyes, you turned to face him. “Merlin, Ominis, what didn’t happen? I caught him… otherwise engaged with some girl in the library. Suffice it to say, he didn’t seem particularly interested in studying.”

Ominis’s lips twitched in disapproval. “How typical. And he wonders why he’s perpetually behind on assignments.”

“I’m not angry,” you clarified, leaning back against the wall. “Just annoyed. If you’re going to snog someone, that’s fine. But don’t ask for my help and then waste my time.”

Ominis tilted his head, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “You don’t care who he’s with?”

“Not in the slightest,” you replied smoothly. “I’ve been trying to make it abundantly clear that I don’t feel that way about him, but for someone as clever as Sebastian, he’s remarkably dense.”

Ominis raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. “You’re aware he’s not going to give up easily, don't you?”

You groaned, letting your head fall lightly against his shoulder. “That’s what I’m afraid of. I’ll probably have to spell it out for him. He’s a great guy, but I think we’d be better off as friends.”

Ominis froze at the unexpected closeness, his breath catching in his throat. You were warm against him, your hair brushing softly against his cheek, and that subtle perfume you always wore was intoxicating. His heart raced, betraying his usually calm demeanor.

“What do you think?” you asked softly, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze. “I don’t want to hurt him, but I can’t keep pretending.”

Ominis forced himself to breathe, his lips parting as he composed his thoughts. “I think you’re right,” he said finally, his voice steadier than he felt. “Sebastian may not like it, but honesty is always better than false hope.”

You offered him a grateful smile, your eyes searching his face for a moment longer than necessary. “Thank you, Ominis. You’re always so… thoughtful.”

“Someone has to be,” he replied lightly, his smirk returning. “Merlin knows Sebastian has enough recklessness for the both of us.”

You laughed, the sound making his heart stutter in his chest. As you turned back to watch the duels, Ominis found himself lost in thought.

Sebastian might not be the only one with feelings to navigate.

********************

It was midterms week and unfortunately you didn't have time to entertain Sallow and his remarks, just ignoring them when suddenly you found yourself right in between the two boys one night.

The common room was quiet, save for the occasional crackle of the fireplace and the faint scratch of quills against parchment. It was well past curfew, and most of the other students had already retired for the night. The trio of you, however, were huddled together in your spot—a corner sofa bathed in warm firelight, books and parchment scattered across the low table in front of you.

Sebastian was sprawled out, his legs kicked up onto the coffee table, his quill twirling absently between his fingers. Ominis, ever composed, sat with his back straight, his hands deftly organizing the scrolls in front of him. You leaned forward, resting your chin in your palm, trying to focus on your notes but failing as your gaze kept drifting between the two boys.

“Alright,” you said suddenly, breaking the silence. “I can't do this anymore, my brain is fried.”

Sebastian smirked, leaning back even further. “That’s hardly new.”

You rolled your eyes. “I mean it. We’ve been studying for hours. We need a break.”

“Oh no,” Ominis said dryly, his lips quirking into a small smirk. “I’ve heard this tone before. Whatever you’re about to suggest, it’s going to end poorly.”

You grinned. “Nonsense. How about a bit of friendly competition. A trivia game.”

Sebastian sat up, his interest piqued. “Trivia? Alright, I’m in. But be warned, I am unbeatable”

Ominis let out a soft scoff. “Unbeatable at what, exactly? Losing gracefully?”

Sebastian grabbed a pillow and tossed it at Ominis, hitting him square in the chest. Ominis’s lips twitched as he carefully set the pillow aside. “Charming as always, Sebastian.”

You clapped your hands together, delighted. “Perfect. First question: What’s the incantation for a basic light spell?”

“Lumos,” Sebastian said immediately, puffing out his chest.

Ominis’s lips quirked into a smirk. “Lumos, of course. But would you like to answer with a little less bravado next time, Sebastian?”

Sebastian raised an eyebrow, leaning forward. “Careful, Gaunt. That’s awfully bold talk for someone sitting so close to my wand.”

Ominis leaned back slightly, his smirk never faltering. “Your wand? Ah, yes, the one you haven’t managed to use properly since third year. How terrifying.”

You grinned, biting back laughter. “Alright, let’s step it up: What’s the counter-spell for Lumos?”

“Nox,” Ominis said immediately, his tone measured. Sebastian chimed in just a split second later.

Sebastian threw his hands up. "You know what? I think you’re far too quiet, MC. I can barely hear you."

You began laughing at Sebastian’s poor excuse. "Oh, is that what happened there, Sallow? You couldn’t hear me?"

"That’s exactly what happened—matter of fact," Sebastian got up and sat right next to you, draping an arm over the top of the couch. You scoffed, half laughing, half rolling your eyes.

Ominis raised a brow, slightly annoyed. When you turned toward him, he interjected smoothly. "No, I’m just fine right here, MC. God knows I have better hearing than my deaf friend over there."

You shook your head in amusement as Sebastian clicked his tongue. "There’s no room on the couch anyway, Ominis—oof!"

You elbowed Sebastian lightly in the stomach. Ominis, watching the exchange with his usual calm, allowed a small smirk to tug at his lips. "You’re right, Sebastian. It must be terribly crowded with all your ego in one spot."

You snorted, trying to keep a straight face. “Ouch. Merlin Sallow you better step it up. Alright, next one: What’s the incantation for producing water?”

“Aguamenti,” Ominis answered immediately.

Sebastian groaned audibly, dragging a hand down his face.

“Well, did you hear that one, Sallow?” You crossed your arms, smiling smugly at the boy.

“Okay, first of all, you said the question wrong, sweetheart, so why don’t we correct that?”

You jumped to the other end of the couch with a gasp. “What!?”

“Oh, here we go,” Ominis scoffed, shaking his head.

“Okay,” Sebastian intervened, ready to plead his case, “it’s ‘what’s the incantation for producing water from your wand,’ not just producing water, because technically, you can produce water nonverbally.”

Your eyebrows knitted so tight it hurt your head. “And how’s that?”

Sebastian cleared his throat, fighting the smirk on his face. “Wandless magic.”

“Oh, you pompous, arrogant little—” you snapped, cutting yourself off as you grabbed a pillow and hurled it at Sebastian. It struck him squarely in the chest, drawing a dramatically overplayed grunt from the boy.

Ominis let out a smooth, low chuckle from where he sat, clearly entertained. Without hesitation, he picked up another pillow and handed it to you, his smirk sharp and teasing. “Please, don’t let me stop you.”

Sebastian held his hands up defensively, his trademark grin faltering as you landed another solid hit. “Oi! A little help here, Ominis?” he called, his voice tinged with mock betrayal.

Ominis leaned back slightly, his expression calm and composed, but his smirk betrayed his amusement. “Why ruin a perfectly entertaining moment? You seem to be earning this, Sallow.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up as Sebastian scrambled to avoid another swing. The brief moment of chaos eased the tension from earlier, leaving a pleasant warmth in its wake. When the commotion finally died down, you straightened your posture, brushing a strand of hair out of your face as you turned back to the quiz. “Next question,” you said firmly, though the glare you shot at Sebastian still held a spark of playful annoyance.

"What’s the incantation for summoning an object?”

“Accio,” Sebastian said immediately, leaning forward with a grin. “Too easy.”

“Accio,” Ominis echoed calmly, his smirk growing. “I believe the question was directed to both of us, Sebastian. You don’t have to shout.”

“Just making sure everyone heard,” Sebastian retorted.

You tilted your head, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “Alright then, Ominis. If you’re so confident, prove it. Can you actually use Accio correctly?”

Ominis raised an eyebrow, his expression calm yet amused. “Are you doubting my abilities?”

“Not doubting,” you said innocently, leaning slightly forward with a playful smirk. “Just… curious. I mean, how do we really know you’re as good as you claim?”

Sebastian chuckled under his breath, clearly relishing the setup. “Cause he's all bute and no bark.”

Ominis set his scrolls aside with deliberate precision, his sharp smile tugging at his lips “Fine. But let’s make it interesting. If I succeed, you owe me a favor.”

Your eyebrows rose, intrigued. “And if you fail?”

“I’ll owe you one,” Ominis replied smoothly, his tone confident without a hint of hesitation.

You leaned back, crossing your arms, your grin widening. “Deal.”

Sebastian leaned forward, clearly entertained. “Alright, Gaunt. Show us what you’ve got.”

Ominis pulled out his wand, tilting his head as if considering his options. Then, with a flick of his wrist and a quiet, “Accio,” you felt a sudden, firm tug on your arm.

Before you could react, you were pulled clean off the couch. You let out a startled yelp as you stumbled forward into his arms, only to be caught by his steady hands at your waist. His grip firm but gentle as he steadied you, keeping you from falling completely.

For a moment, you stared up at him, wide-eyed. Ominis’s smirk softened into something gentler, though the mischievous glint in his pale eyes remained. “I believe that’s a success,” he murmured.

You blinked, trying to ignore the heat and blush creeping up your face. “Alright, fine. I’ll admit it. That was impressive.”

Sebastian, who had been watching with a mixture of surprise and irritation, finally found his voice. “You could’ve just summoned a book, you know.”

Ominis helped you back to your seat, his smirk returning full force. “And miss an opportunity to shut you up? Never.”

The three of you all went to bed pretty late that night. Except you didnt get nay sleep, you were too busy feeling the prickles on your skin from where Ominis held you.

*******************

A mere few days pass, midterms were up and you were pretty much screwed when it came to herbology.

The hallway leading to Herbology was bustling with students, but you were weaving through the crowd with practiced ease. Your bag was slung over your shoulder, packed with parchment and ink for the upcoming lesson. The fresh morning light streamed through the high windows, painting the corridor in a golden glow. You were nearly at the greenhouse doors when a familiar voice called out to you.

“Hey, MC! Wait up!”

You turned just as Sebastian jogged up to you, his usual boyish grin firmly in place. He looked effortlessly charming, as always, his tie slightly askew in that roguish way that seemed more deliberate than accidental.

“Good morning, Sallow,” you greeted, your tone polite but cautious.

Sebastian matched your pace, walking alongside you. “Herbology, huh? You’re really committed to getting dirt under your nails first thing in the morning.”

You raised an eyebrow, the corner of your lips tugging up into a faint smirk. “And you’re really committed to finding new ways to bother me, first thing in the morning.”

“Bother you?” he repeated with mock offense, placing a hand over his chest. “MC, I’m wounded. Can’t a man simply enjoy your company without ulterior motives?”

“A man? Perhaps. But you, Sebastian?” You tilted your head, your smirk widening. “I’d be surprised if you went five minutes without flirting.”

He grinned, unbothered by your jab. “I’ll have you know I’m perfectly capable of holding a meaningful conversation that doesn’t involve compliments.”

“Prove it,” you shot back.

Sebastian chuckled, letting a moment of silence stretch between you before leaning closer. “You know, you’re lucky I’m such a persistent fellow. Most people wouldn’t bother trying to win over someone as stubborn as you.”

“Win over?” you repeated, arching an eyebrow. “Oh, Sebastian, I didn’t realize this was a competition.”

“Everything’s a competition if you try hard enough,” he quipped, flashing a grin. “And I always win.”

“Except when you don’t,” you countered with a sly smile, thoroughly enjoying the banter.

“Fair enough,” he conceded, though his grin didn’t waver. “How about this? Let me take you to Hogsmeade. An unofficial… let’s call it an outing. What do you say?”

You blinked, caught off guard for a moment. Your lips parted to respond, but before you could, another voice interrupted.

"Uh..."

“Sebastian! There you are!”

Both of you turned to see Madeline, one of the more outgoing girls from Ravenclaw, hurrying over with a bright smile. She barely spared you a glance before her attention zeroed in on Sebastian.

“Madeline,” Sebastian greeted smoothly, though there was a flicker of surprise in his eyes. “What brings you here?”

“Oh, nothing in particular,” she replied with a laugh, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. Then, without warning, she leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to Sebastian’s cheek. “But I was hoping we could go to Hogsmeade again soon. You’re so much fun to be around.”

Your chest tightened at the sight, your earlier smirk vanishing as a flicker of irritation flared within you. A mix of embarrassment and offense churned in your stomach. Really? you thought, incredulity and frustration bubbling under the surface. You stepped back slightly, arms crossing as the lightness of the banter evaporated entirely.

Sebastian, visibly flustered, turned back to you, his usual smoothness faltering. "Uh, Madeline… right. That was… unexpected," he stammered, rubbing the back of his neck. "I mean, not that I’m… complaining?"

Madeline beamed, her attention entirely on him. "Of course not! It’s always a pleasure to see you, Sebastian. So, how about that Hogsmeade trip? Just us this time? I promise it’ll be even more fun than before."

Sebastian hesitated, glancing briefly at you before responding, his tone awkward. "Uh, yeah, sure, Madeline. That… sounds great."

She grinned triumphantly, reaching out to adjust his crooked tie with practiced familiarity. "Perfect. I’ll owl you later to set it up. Don’t keep me waiting too long." He managed a strained chuckle before adding, "Anyway… MC, about that outing—"

You held up a hand sharply, cutting him off. Your lips pressed into a tight smile that didn’t reach your eyes. “Don’t bother, Sallow.” Your voice was clipped, with an edge that even you were surprised at.

“Clearly, you’ve got plenty of company lined up already,” you added, flicking your gaze briefly toward Madeline before returning to him, your expression cool. “And who am I to get in the way of… such enthusiasm?”

Sebastian opened his mouth, his usual confidence visibly faltering. “MC, I didn’t mean… I was just…”

Your lips curled into a tight smile, more cutting than kind. “Oh no, don’t feel guilty, Sallow. I’m cheering you and Madeline on. Just don’t screw it up,” you said coolly, flicking your gaze toward the Ravenclaw girl. “Ravenclaw girls can get pretty creative if you break their hearts.”

Sebastian looked caught between a grimace and a reply, but you didn’t wait. “Enjoy Hogsmeade, Sebastian,” you added, letting the weight of your words hang in the air for a moment longer before turning on your heel and striding away.

Then, with a deliberate turn, you strode off toward the greenhouse, your chin held high and your steps firm. The heat of embarrassment and irritation prickled at the back of your neck, but you didn’t let it show. How could he even think that was okay? The audacity, the disrespect, it all stung more than you’d care to admit.

The sound of the greenhouse door closing behind you felt like the final word, leaving him standing in the hallway, stunned and uncharacteristically silent.

The greenhouse was quiet, save for the occasional rustling of leaves as you worked. Hours had passed since your encounter with Sebastian, and the irritation still lingered, simmering just beneath the surface. The day had stretched long, and now dusk was falling, casting the space in shades of deep pink and orange. The air was thick with the earthy scent of soil and herbs, but your focus wavered. No matter how hard you tried, the names of the plants before you refused to stick.

“Ashwinder Eggplant? No, that’s… that’s not even right,” you muttered under your breath, your fingers fumbling with the leaves of a particularly thorny shrub. Frustration bubbled up, threatening to spill over.

“You’ve been here all day, haven’t you?”

The smooth, familiar voice startled you, and you spun around, nearly knocking over a pot in the process. Standing in the doorway, silhouetted by the fading light, was Ominis. His expression was unreadable, his head tilted slightly as if he were studying you without the need for sight.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, your tone sharper than you intended.

Ominis raised an eyebrow, stepping into the greenhouse. “I might ask you the same question. Shouldn’t you be having dinner right now?”

“I…” You hesitated, your shoulders sagging. “I’m trying to remember the characteristics of these plants, but it’s like my brain’s turned to mush. And the exam is tommorow”

He approached, his movements deliberate, almost graceful. Without saying a word, he reached out to steady the pot you had nearly knocked over, his fingers brushing the edge with practiced precision. The cool, unhurried way he moved contrasted sharply with your frazzled state, as though the chaos of the moment didn’t touch him at all. “It sounds like you’ve been pushing yourself too hard.”

“No kidding,” you muttered, turning back to the shrub in front of you. “I just need to get this right. If I can’t even name this plant, how am I supposed to handle the rest of Herbology?”

For a moment, Ominis said nothing, simply standing beside you. The weight of his presence felt grounding, steady in a way you didn’t realize you needed. Then, he reached out, his fingers brushing over the plant's jagged leaves.

“That would be a Venomous Tentacula,” he said quietly. “The slight curl at the edges of the leaves gives it away.”

You stared at him, surprised. “How do you…”

“I’ve spent a lot of time here, listening to Professor Garlick describe them, and for someone like me naming these plants require touch or smell" he replied with a small smile. “I may not see the details, so thats how I remember them.”

“Line the plants up,” he said, his tone calm but firm. “All of them, right here.” He gestured to the workbench in front of you.

“Why?” you asked, confused but already moving to comply.

“Trust me,” he replied simply, stepping closer as you arranged the pots. His cool confidence left little room for argument, and you found yourself following his lead.

Once the plants were lined up, Ominis moved closer, his presence enveloping but never rushed. You heard the faint clink of his wand being set carefully on the workbench, a deliberate motion that seemed to echo in the stillness of the greenhouse. He stepped behind you, leaning in just enough that his warmth brushed against your back, his breath grazing your ear.

“Close your eyes,” he murmured, his voice rich and steady, carrying an authority that felt both comforting and irresistible.

Your heart stuttered as you obeyed, your fingers gripping the edge of the bench to anchor yourself. Darkness sharpened your other senses: the subtle rustle of his movements, the scent of parchment and something earthy that clung to him, and the whisper of his breath trailing near your neck.

“Relax,” he said, his tone even and assured. His hands slid down your shoulders with leaving goosebumps. His fingers intertwined gently with yours, his touch featherlight yet deliberate.

He guided your fingers toward the first plant, his movements steady and controlled.

“This one,” he said, brushing your fingertips along the waxy surface of a leaf. “It’s thicker, smoother, with tiny pricks along the edges.”

As your hands moved further up the leaf, his fingers tightened over yours, pulling them back gently but firmly.

“Careful. The pricks are sharp,” he murmured, his breath grazing your ear.

“Oh,” you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper. Your chest rose and fell unevenly, your focus entirely consumed by the closeness, the heat of his hands guiding yours.

“Can you guess what it is?” he asked, his tone calm but laced with quiet encouragement.

“Um… Mimbulus Mimbletonia?” you ventured, your voice unsteady.

“Exactly,” he said, a hint of pride in his voice. “You’re better at this than you think.”

His hands lingered for a moment before moving to guide yours to the next plant.

“This one requires care,” he murmured, his tone softer, almost reverent. “The stems are delicate. Feel the faint ridges"?

His finger wrapped around your guiding them over the ridges painfully slow making sure you feel every single bump.

"Other plants do not have the ridges going horizontally. That’s a Puffapod.”

“Right,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly.

“Good,” he repeated, his breath warm and close.

The moment stretched, heavy with unspoken tension as the greenhouse bathed in the golden-pink hues of the fading sunlight.

"Now, this one is a bit tricky," Ominis said, his tone measured as he ran his fingers lightly over the plant’s surface. "And you might not enjoy the sensation." You tensed, your voice hesitant. "W-why? Will it hurt?"

"You know I wont let that happen. But it is a bit unpleasant to feel" The he picks up your hands and guides them and to your suprise the petals feel damp and even a bit slippery. You gasp at the sensation retreating back to ominis.

A low chuckle resonated near your ear, warm and rich. His grip on your hands tightened slightly, steadying you. "Uh-uh," he murmured, his voice like velvet. "Don’t pull away. Feel it. I know you know this."

You swallowed hard, the word escaping almost on instinct. "...Shrivelfig?"

His lips curved into a faint smile, pride evident in his tone. "Correct."

And just like that, Ominis helped you memorize three plants in mere moments, something that had taken you hours before. You opened your eyes and turned to meet his gaze.

His eyes caught the faint light of the fading sunset, shimmering like pearls in the dusk of the greenhouse. They were intelligent, unyielding, and something else entirely.

Seductive.

“Your heart is beating too fast,” he remarked, his tone laced with quiet amusement. “Did you hate it that much?”

But hatred was the furthest thing from your mind. You were barely holding yourself together, the tension between you wound tight. You shifted subtly, squeezing your legs together, praying his perceptiveness wouldn’t catch the effect he was having on you.

“There’s… one more thing I’d like to feel,” you said, your voice soft but steady.

He tilted his head, nodding. “Sure. Which plant?”

Before he could process the shift in your intent, you leaned forward, your breath catching. You hoped—prayed—he wouldn’t hate you for this. Closing the space between you, you pressed your lips to his in a chaste, fleeting kiss.

He froze for the barest moment, a soft gasp escaping his lips, but you quickly stepped back, your face burning with both exhilaration and panic.

“I…” you began, words failing you as you dared to glance up at him.

Ominis’s smile deepened.

Before you could respond, he reached out, his fingers brushing lightly against your waist. “May I?” he asked, the question lingering in the air more as a formality than a request. When you didn’t pull away, his hand settled firmly, guiding you closer.

“Let’s try something,” he whispered, a playful edge to his tone.

You barely had time to process his words before he dipped his head, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek after finding them. The warmth of his lips made you gasp, and you felt the faintest hint of a chuckle against your skin as his lips trailed closer to the corner of your mouth. The deliberate slowness made you laugh softly, feeling them glide across you skin.

“Ominis…” you started, but whatever you were about to say dissolved when his lips found yours.

The kiss shifted from tender to all-consuming, his grip at your waist pulling you so tightly against him that it felt as though no space had ever existed between you. His other hand cradled the curve of your jaw, anchoring you in place as his lips moved with breathtaking intensity.

Your fingers clutched at his shoulders, your body instinctively matching his fervor. Every tilt of his head, every press of his lips felt precise and deliberate, as though he was memorizing every moment.

He leaned further down, his taller frame folding to meet yours, but just as the kiss threatened to completely drown you both, he broke away, his breath ragged. His hands slid to your thighs, and in one swift motion, he lifted you effortlessly onto the workbench. The cool surface beneath you was a sharp contrast to the fire coursing through your veins.

Ominis stepped closer, his body fitting perfectly between your legs as though he belonged there. You didn’t wait this time. Desperation spurred you forward, your lips finding his with a force that left no room for hesitation. Your arms wrapped tightly around his neck, drawing him closer as if letting go would shatter you.

His tongue grazed your bottom lip, slow and purposeful, sending a shiver cascading down your spine. You parted your lips, allowing him deeper, and the low groan that escaped him sent heat pooling in your stomach. Encouraged, his hands tightened on your thighs, fingers digging in just enough to leave an impression. His touch was commanding, possessive, leaving no doubt that he was entirely consumed by you.

Every kiss, every touch, every sound seemed to exist in a world that belonged solely to the two of you.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath uneven and warm against your lips. “Was that… to your liking?” he asked, his voice roughened with desire, the faintest smirk curling at the corners of his mouth.

Your chest heaved as you struggled to catch your breath, the tension between you thick enough to hold the world still.

“Very much, yes,” you whispered.

His thumb grazed your cheek tenderly “You know, I could get used to this.”

You tried to steady yourself, the words escaping before you could overthink them. “Could you?”

He tilted his head, as if savoring the moment. “More than anything,” he murmured, his tone dipping into something softer, more sincere. “So, what do you say, MC? Will you let me make this a habit… and call you mine?”

Your heart stuttered, but there was no hesitation in your reply. “Yes,” you breathed, a smile tugging at your lips. “Absolutely yes.”

You giggled, heart full, blushed cheeks unaware of the boy in the shadows of the greenhouse.

Sebastian lingered there, his back against the doorway as he watched the scene unfold. His usually confident demeanor was replaced with something more fragile, his expression unreadable. His hands clenched briefly at his sides, but then he let out a quiet huff, his lips twitching into a bittersweet smile.

'Well,' he thought. 'I suppose someone had to win her over.'

He stayed for a moment longer, his gaze fixed on the two of you as you laughed together, the sound light and unguarded. Though his heart ached, a flicker of bittersweet acceptance crossed his features. He leaned his head back against the doorway, closing his eyes for a brief second as if to steel himself.

When he opened his eyes again, they held a glimmer of something resigned but genuine—happiness for you both, despite the sting of his own loss.

He let out a quiet huff, the corners of his lips twitching into a small, wistful smile. Straightening, he gave one last glance toward the scene before turning and walking away into the fading light, leaving you and Ominis to your moment—a moment that wasn’t his to claim.

#ominis gaunt #ominis x reader #sebastian hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #ominis imagine #sebastian x reader #sebastian x mc #sebastian x y/n #hogwarts legacy ominis #hogwarts legacy

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immaturityofthomasastruc · 6 months ago

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EVEN MORE SPOILERS FOR SEASON 6

I figured since I already read it, I'd give my thoughts on the recent interview Astruc and Thibaudeau took part in.

Due to incompatibility with the new animation engine, SAMG will not be working on the next seasons of ‘Miraculous’. The series is now being developed entirely in France, with the integration of Dwarf Animation.

Okay, props for no more outsourcing, even if I'm not sure what this means for the other ZAG shows.

Season 6 is considered to be “a new beginning”, aside from being a new story arc. It is sometimes referred to by the writers as Season 1.

I'm sure that isn't confusing to the executives at all. Also, maybe don't imply you're starting from scratch when you're already reusing the plot of the main villain using the Butterfly Miraculous.

The writing team already has concrete ideas for how Seasons 7, 8 and 9 will begin and end. They also have ambitions to make it to a Season 12, only if the support of viewers and executives allows them to do so. With this, they emphasize the fact that they would not continue with the show if it were no longer needed or interesting.

So basically, they're planning to keep this up for as long as they can until someone pulls the plug.

The opening of the sixth season is still undecided. They are still discussing whether they will change the musical arrangement or not. Thomas also considers the possibility of making a brand-new theme song. A song has been confirmed for S6. They have the music, the arrangement and a female singer. The character remains unknown.

Imagine how funny it would be if they brought back the woman who sang for Marinette in the movie instead of having Cristina Vee sing again.

Despite leaving Paris at the end of ‘Revolution’ (5x23), Chloé Bourgeois will return in Season 6.

youtube

Putting aside all the things I've said about her "damnation arc", what is even the point of bringing her back at this point? She has no powers, no influence, no allies, and isn't a threat of any kind. This makes her not being the next Hawkmoth make even less sense, becuse she has more of a reason to hate Ladybug than Lila does.

Also, with the news that Chloe is coming back, this means that she essentially escaped punishment or at least found a way to rebound like Lila did. So that's a grand total of ZERO villains who actually got punished for their actions after five seasons. I'm starting to think Ladybug and Cat Noir really suck at their jobs.

Sebastien Thibadeau: “[Cerise] (IOTA: I'm still calling her Lila for simplicity's sake) is a villain without costume. She is a villain all the time. There is a reason why, but this reason, neither I nor Astruc will reveal to you yet.” Interviewer: “You mean you already intend to tell it?” Thomas Astruc: “Yes. And you know what, we have already told it, but you haven’t noticed.”

Translation: Ladies and gentlemen, LET'S GET READY FOR RETCOOOOOONNNNS!

Seriously, we are approaching the sixth season of this show. It has been eight years since Lila first appeared all the way back in "Volpina", and we still know nothing about her other than the fact that she has some three moms for some reason. You can't pull the whole "This is something you need to rewatch to understand!" excuse because the last two seasons hinged on breaking the rules about Sentimonsters.

Speaking of, I love how this comment about Lila accidentally implies that Gabriel never did anything evil when he wasn't Hawkmoth/Shadowmoth/Monarch. All that emotional abuse and isolation Adrien suffered was all out of love!

Thomas Astruc on Chloe redemption arc: “We put the characters in situations, and then we say to ourselves: “what would be the logic?” How would the character logically react in “such and such” a situation? And we tried, we tried everything. But every time, we say to ourselves: “if we write this, it’ll be wrong”. There’ll be no reason, it’ll come out of nowhere, the fact that she’ll face something nice and say: “Oh, I’ve been horrible, Marinette what have I done! From now on, I’ll be...” No, nonsense. I understand people’s desire for Chloe to be nice. I’d like that too. But I’d like it if in real life, people with a lot of power suddenly started doing nice things. But Chloé has no interest in changing. She has no reason to change, unfortunately.”

Ah, yes because Gabriel (Global terrorist and abusive parent), Felix (Betrayed Ladybug and temporarily wiped out all of humanity on a whim), Nathalie (Willing accomplice to Gabriel) Andre (corrupt politician and Chloe's primary enabler), Sabrina (Willing accomplice to Chloe) all had compelling reasons to change their ways.

Also, "I've been horrible, what have I done?"

MY BROTHER IN CHRIST, THAT'S HOW VIRTUALLY EVERY REDEMPTION ON THIS SHOW IS EXECUTED.

The fact that he's seriously acting like he actually wanted to write a redemption arc is insulting. Not only does it ignore all the things he's said to fans who were upset at the turn of events, but it makes no sense for him to take this stance because he's a writer. If Chloe turning a new leaf is too strange of an idea, then write an actual character arc allowing her to progress to a state where she recognizes what she's done is wrong. You control the character for God's sake! It's not like you're training a dog to stop humping the couch. You can change things to make a redemption arc possible.

In other words, Astruc is either lying to save his ass, or THIS IS WHAT THOMAS ASTRUC ACTUALLY BELIEVES about writing characters.

Sebastien Thibadeau talks about Andre's character development: In contrast to Chloe, “Andre Bourgeois evolved as a character because we had already imagined a back story. He had the potential to change, and that’s where the beautiful scene comes from — I think it’s magnificent — between Gabriel and himself on the roof of the Grand Palace, where he says: “But Gabriel, what’s become of us? We’ve forgotten the kids we used to be”. But we [writers] know what kids they used to be, and we’d like to tell the story one day, to show what young kids they were, when they were struggling through Paris and weren’t yet what you’ve come to know in the series. He’s sad about what’s happening to his daughter [Chloe], and he’s trying to change it, but he can’t. He is proof that a character can change.”

This. This right here is what cinched it for me. I've tried for years not to say it because it's a word that has been flung around a lot over these last few years, but I feel like this little snippet is enough of a reason for me to say it.

These writers are sexist.

They may not believe it, but whether they intended for it or not, they wrote a story arc where a grown man was shown to have more sympathetic qualities than his daughter. How the hell can you defend it in a way that doesn't highlight the misogyny that this show runs on?

The fact that they gush over how much "potential" Andre had right after saying how that same kind of potential wasn't enough of a reason to attempt a redemption arc with Chloe really shows how confusing their priorities are. I'm sorry to keep saying this, but for a show that takes a heavy anti-capitalist philosophy, it seems like the members of the 1% are the characters who get the most depth and sympathy... unless you're under 18 and lack a Y chromosome, that is.

A meeting will be set up in the coming weeks to decide on whether or not to make a live-action for ‘Miraculous’, Thomas Astruc reveals.

As a former Arrowverse fan, I'm willing to see this out. Not only did the Netflix One Piece series prove you can make an animated property work in live-action, Ladybug & Cat Noir: The Movie managed to do really well even without the usual writers behind it.

Thomas when asked about Gabriel’s wish in ‘Re-Creation’ (5x26) and whether he brought Emilie back to life: “All the answers are in the episode.”

For the love of--STOP SAYING THAT!

You keep claiming that we just need to rewatch the episode to understand things, but between the continuity errors and abandoned subplots, it's hard to tell what's important and what isn't. Either say "No comment" or give us an honest answer.

If people are still confused about how the season ended after almost a year, and you keep giving answers like this:

Maybe you need to change the way you tell the story.

Astruc when asked about ‘The Supreme’: “Oh, if only you knew... Nothing we do is meaningless.”

Sebastien Thibadeau on Season 7: “Once you’ve seen the start of season 7, I can swear you’ll watch season 6 a second time. That’s all I can say.”

Because it'll make Season 6 look like a masterpiece by comparison?

Thomas Astruc on the worldbuilding: There are Kwamis and Renlings, what makes you think there aren’t others [creatures]?

I swear, by the time we get to Season 10, we're going to get stuff like aliens, demons and talking mushrooms, or at least something ludicrous like that.

Zoe had a love at first sight when she met Marinette in ‘Sole Crusher’ (4x07), they confirm.

Of course! That's why it wasn't framed any differently from something like the umbrella scene and Zoe showed absolutely no signs of attraction to Marinette! It's genius!

Executives had Thomas write several alternative concepts for ‘Miraculous’, very different from what we know today or even the early PV. Among them, “a concept where Ladybug is the head of a group of superheroines, like Sailor Moon. There was no love story.”

Can you imagine a world without the Love Square?

The script writers’ favorite episode is ‘Simpleman’ (4x19) as it represents a personal, work and family attachment. Marinette’s grandfather, Roland Dupain, is inspired by Thomas Astruc’s grandfather.

Okay, either Astruc had a complicated relationship with his grandpa or he's been dead for years. While I understand that older generations have outdated views (for example, my great-grandmother yelled at me for saying I wanted to learn Japanese because "They tried to kill us!"), the fact that a caricture of a grumpy old man was based on his grandpa is a little concerning.

Also, between this and Sabine being based off an old flame of his, this only makes the theory that Chloe is based off a real person Astruc knew more plausible.

Astruc: “This is why our work is so difficult. We have to manage to bring in this generation of younger ones, and at the same time, we have to satisfy the generation that was here before and that grows with the series.”

First, if you're trying to please older fans, maybe don't get into fights with them on Twitter.

Second, you made a thread after "Simpleman" aired where you insulted fans for not getting the "meta" element to the episode and compared them to the character you just said was based on your grandfather.

You've also been burning away a lot of the older fans' goodwill over the years. Trust me, I have a few examples.

Despite sharing a similar appearance, the symbol on Nino’s T-shirt is not related to Hack-San.

Okay, is this a fan theory I missed back when Season 4 was airing? Why would anyone draw that conclusion?

Thomas Astruc talks about Season 6: “I’ll say it sincerely, I was very doubtful at the end of Season 5. I said to myself: “if we were to continue, how would we exceed?” Well, we did. It’s been a great season. The new writers have brought us a lot of great stuff. All the episodes we’ve written in Season 6 are fabulous. Each episode is on point, there is no unnecessary lines. All the scenes are really interesting, really well-crafted.”

Translation: Tons of filler, bad comedy, reused Akumas, and more Love Square drama that we're trying to claim hasn't been done before.

Thomas when asked if Marinette will get akumatized: “We never give any information about what may or may not happen.”

JUST. SAY. NO. COMMENT.

There are many important details throughout the series that no one has noticed. Thomas says that when we see the next seasons, we’ll think, “Oh, the writers had it all planned.”

You know, like how Season 3 established that Sentimonsters can be sent out of control by Cataclysm a few episodes before Adrien, a Sentimonster, gets hit by a Cataclysm and is affected in a different way. It was all planned from the beginning.

The Ladybug PV was an animation test and was not intended to be public. Jeremy Zag decided to leak it himself.

Honestly? Dick move on Zag's part. You have to wonder how pissed off Astruc was.

According to Thomas Astruc, what the ‘Miraculous’ series is today represents only 5% of what he wrote in the original bible he presented to Jeremy Zag. “The universe has evolved a lot since. I don’t know if the ideas I put there will be reused someday. It was very extensive.”

Thomas Astruc and Sebastien Thibadeau discuss the parallels between Marinette and Gabriel: Astruc: “Gabriel’s personal back story is the cause of his misery, not his will. And above all, it creates a beautiful mirror with Marinette, which is what’s interesting. They both have a lot of love for Adrien, they’re both designers, they both have a Miraculous, but it’s other choices.” Thibadeau: “That’s what makes it a great hero-villain contrast. Even if they don’t know it from the start, they have a real point in common. As we see at the end of Season 5, they both love Adrien. Except there’s one who does it by doing the right thing, and then there’s another who does it by doing the wrong thing, hurting people, to get there.”

And the one who did the wrong thing by hurting people ended up winning. What does that say about the contrast?

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

And that's it for the interview. I have to say Season 6 does not look pretty so far.

#immaturity of thomas astruc #iota #miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug salt #miraculous ladybug spoilers #ml spoilers #thomas astruc #thomas astruc salt

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jd07201990 · 1 year ago

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“Oh, come on Chuck! This’ll be my second time! You can’t keep forcing me to work another 40 years, just to make it to retirement and do it all again! It’s not yours or my fault that there aren’t enough young folk to take over our jobs! Hell, maybe if we paid a bit more, the few of them out there would apply!”

“It’s Lieutenant Roth, Billy. Now go change out of that equipment and take a shower. Whatever this remote does to strip away all those years, it sure does leave a young man ripe!”

“Don’t call me Billy! I haven’t been Billy in 30 years! Its Bill Damn it! And how am I supposed to explain this, again! to David?! You know he’s not into, well… this!”

“Put your shirt down Billy and quit your complaining. We’re doing something different this time, changing things up, trying something new. See, we couldn’t afford to pay higher wages all these years, because we’ve been stashing extra money away, for a new program. This remote can do a lot more than just wipe away years, Billy. The company has a whole app-store full of features, but they cost a hell of a lot. We only had enough for 2 new features, and we think it’ll really help solve this town’s aging population issue.”

“Wha… what the hell are you saying? What do you mean, something new?! Chuck, dude… you’re seriously starting to crack! What the fuck does any of this have to do with David?! And who is, “We”?!”

“I’m only going to tell you this once, son. It’s Lieutenant Roth. Now, I guess there’s no beating around the bush with you young-bloods. So I’ll get right to it. “We” is me, the Governor, and the Town Board. We investigated every possible fix, and it comes down to this. All the youth are moving out in droves, going to college, or fleeing to the city for excitement, leaving us aging folk to do the hard work around town. With the remote able to take years off a person, we’ve decided that all our current retirees, in every department, will be regressed, and the new feature we purchased will ensure you all follow your new, youthful instincts, providing us with a full generational bump in population.

You will be the hot-blooded virile stud you were way back in the day; you remember? Except this time, just as David isn’t attracted to this prime of your life look, YOU won’t be attracted to David, or any man for that matter. You see, we need all the help we can get, so with this little app, you’ll be chasing pretty women, and will certainly end up settling down, once one of them catches. Ah, by the look on your face, you know exactly what I mean.

Good, because you and the rest of the retirees are going to have your hands full, working these jobs getting paid just enough for a double-wide and a truck, leaving a trail of gals before you settle in with one, and have a whole mess of kids. "

“Ch… Lieutenant, sir… Wha… you’re insane dude! Fuckin’ totally cracked! You hear yourself! You can’t do this! I can’t be… I can’t chase… I don’t… don’t like…. Fuck… fuck dude… what the fuck are you doing?! Quit pointin’ that shit at me bro! My.. my head!”

“Don’t worry son, I’ll let you off the hook for all that mouthing off. It’s got to be rough having your brain completely flipped inside out, dumped out and filled with everything you need to be a, productive, member of society. Isn’t that right Billy?”

“Wha.. Oh, hey Lieutenant! So uh, is it ok if I head off to the showers and hit the road? Kind of a slow night huh sir? If it’d be alright, I want to go down to the Strip and hit the bar. The dudes and I figured we’d start the weekend early, ya know? Gotta get get some tail on lock before the storms hit. Thinkin’ I might run into Becka too, you know, from Thornton Stables? God she’d look real pretty, all knocked up good n’ proper!”

“Oh alright son. Go ahead, take the night off. But you’re on call. Got it! One or two beers, maybe a shot, take some cash and buy the lass one of those fruity drinks, and you treat her like a lady, young man. Got it?”

“Got it Dude! I mean Lieutenant! I’ll make a lady outa her yet! Thanks for the money too! Ya know how rough it is on the town’s wages! Although you and the Board seem to be doin’ alright. I hope I can get to where you are, Sir!”

“Don’t worry Billy, you’ve got a good 40 years or so to work your way up! Go have fun tonight!”

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fatuismooches · 1 year ago

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fabulam diu oblitus - sequel.

synopsis: The tale of the raven and the sparrow has ended, but that doesn't mean it can't start again.

includes: dottore w/ gn! reader

notes: This is the fifth and final part of this fic, please read the other four before this! This is a fluffier continuation of the last part in order to soothe your hearts from the last part. Thank you to each and every one of you who supported me with this fic, it was a wonderful experience and I hope you all enjoyed it! Now, let's wrap up the tale of the raven and sparrow once and for all. (Also, I realize that this part may seem a bit reader-centric, but I hope it's still good!)

prelude. first interlude. second interlude. postlude. sequel.

It had been years since the Traveler had attended their first Akademiya Extravaganza. It was a marvelous experience. It had also been years since the old sages were overthrown, the Balladeer’s attempt to become a God, and of course, the deletion of the Doctor’s segments as well as the death of the Omega build.

But why was the Traveler still in Teyvat? Since they still had yet to find their treasured sibling, their journey persisted. And so they and their traveling companion had found themselves back in Sumeru for another fun festival. Paimon had already had her fill of games and yummy food, so now they were going to see a performance, by the one and only Nilou. Their friend often danced, but today would be a special one since it was during the festival.

“Oh wow! Zubayr Theater is so much more lively than usual!” Paimon exclaimed. Indeed, there was a large crowd gathered below the stage, all of them excited to watch the dancer’s performance. But there was one person who caught Paimon’s eye. Someone was sitting by themselves, away from the crowd.

“Huh? Look over there, someone is sitting all alone. Do you think they’re okay?”

“Paimon, just because someone is by themselves doesn’t mean they’re in trouble. Maybe they don’t like being around large groups of people.”

“Oh… Paimon knows that! But maybe we should check on them, just in case. We still have some time before Nilou’s performance.” The Traveler gave in to their friend’s request and the pair made their way over to you. But you were too lost in your thoughts to notice them coming.

Your illness still remained, but with all the years that had passed by, at least it wasn’t as bad as it was before. It didn’t totally dominate your life, and you were able to do some things by yourself that you couldn’t do before! It wasn’t a cure, but it was something. Though of course there were bad days, the good days were the ones you focused on more. Good days such as today.

You were back in Sumeru after hundreds of years. You never thought it would happen but, one day your husband came to you and told you the news so casually, you thought you were dreaming. You? Leaving Snezhnaya? It felt unreal! If you were stronger, you would have tackled him to the floor with your love, but alas you had to settle for squeezing him as hard as you could.

Though, to be honest, you weren’t sure if the Fatui actually had business there, or if he wanted to bring you there since you’d been longing for it for so long. (But it seemed unlikely that Pierro would give him vacation days…) Regardless, your joy was received by him adequately as you peppered his face with kisses.

So now you were here, in your home country. Of course, there were numerous top-tier Fatui agents assigned to you in disguise, always trailing behind with great skill, since Dottore was never going to let you be by yourself. But you didn’t really mind. The past few days had been the most fun you’d had in so long! (If only Dottore could join you. Obviously, he couldn’t in broad daylight… not to mention whatever duties he had.)

As you remember it, each Darshan had set up booths for the Wisdom Gala with a ton of interesting mini-games and other stuff. Though the concept was the same, you were once again realizing how things had changed over the centuries you were asleep… these games were truly novel! You were impressed at the creativity because it was nothing like this when you were a student!

One that was funny was when you were given a mallet… yes a mallet, to hit these little wooden fungi that kept popping up and down in different spots. You were given a question and each of the fungi had a different answer. You had to whack the one with the right answer. Now, figuring out the answer wasn’t the question, but rather hitting them. With your illness, lugging this thing quickly enough to smack them was not an easy task… but it was fun! Hehe, you knew Zandy would have whacked all of them anyway. Ugh, you were really feeling robbed now… the best things always happen in school after you already left.

Though your favorite game was the gear puzzles. You were given multiple gears of different sizes and had to insert them to make all of them eventually turn. You ended up finishing them at record speed, causing a whole swarm of Kshahrewar students around you, begging you to join their Darshan. It was a good thing one of your agents caused a distraction elsewhere for you to swiftly escape… Hmm, maybe you should ask Dottore to make these for you, so you could occupy your mind.

Ahh, not to mention the food… the delicious, authentic Sumerian cuisine that you missed so much. Although some things had naturally changed over four hundred years, it was as yummy as you remembered it. You always packaged some so you could share with Dottore (especially the sweets.) At the end of the day, or when you were tired, you were always escorted back to him. The location was secluded of course, for privacy and safety reasons. Your husband would listen to you ramble about quite literally everything, as you explored Sumeru City thoroughly, not just the festival. Even though he already knew everything you spoke about, he liked seeing your curiosity be indulged in.

But today was different. Today you decided to witness the performances going on in the theater. You had always liked watching them (Columbina often invited you to them) in Snezhnaya, so now you wanted to see what Sumeru had to offer. Four hundred years ago, the Akademiya looked down and shamed the arts far more than they do today. Non-academic writing, drawing, sculpting, acting, singing, dancing, you name it. There was no such thing as the Grand Bazaar or Zubayr Theater. Though you didn’t live here anymore, you were very pleased to see how much the arts were appreciated now, as they should be. Especially that red-haired girl, her dancing was awe-inspiring. You had seen her practice before the performance for a few days, and it was beautiful! If only things were like this when you were a student here…

“Hello there! You’re sitting all the way over here by yourself, are you okay?” A squeaky voice interrupted your reminiscing and you turned to see who it was.

The Traveler and Paimon… It seemed that you were blankly staring at them for too long because the floating one spoke again.

“Um… are you okay?”

“Oh! I’m fine, sorry, sorry, I just spaced out for a second there,” you apologetically waved them off. This was going to be a bit annoying.

A while ago, you had decided to let go. Let go of the pain, of any possible thoughts of revenge, of the sheer grief you suffered from your loss. Because continuing to work yourself up like that would only worsen your illness and mental state. For the most part, you’d been successful, living each day as best you could along with your husband. You still thought about the segments though, always thankful for what they did for you.

But now that the Traveler stood in front of you in flesh and blood, your composure wavered a little. This was the same person who killed Omega. You couldn’t help but feel a twinge of hatred, but you relaxed with a deep breath.

“That’s okay! Well, Paimon is Paimon, and this here is the Traveler. We saw you here by yourself and just wanted to see if you were alright!” The blonde nodded in affirmation.

“Ah, I see. There’s no need to worry about me. My body can’t handle standing for so long, so it’s better for me to sit, even if I’m a bit far away from the stage.” There was no harm in telling them right off the bat because you had a feeling that Paimon’s line of questioning would make you reveal your illness anyway. She talked a lot, according to your fellow Fatuis.

“Huh? Are you injured?”

“No, it’s just my illness. My body struggles to do many things a healthy person would, so I need to be careful.” The pair nodded at you in sympathy.

“Oh… Paimon is sorry about that. That sounds really tough…”

“It’s alright. It’s been like this for many years, so I’ve grown accustomed to it.” The fairy placed her hand on her chest in understanding before she brightened.

“Ah, Paimon has a good idea! Why don’t we keep you company during the performance? You know, we’ve been here loads of times and are even friends with Nilou! We can definitely tell you some cool things!”

“Oh, that sounds… nice.” You smiled at them, not because you liked them, but more because you were interested in their stories about this place. Paimon cheered and the Traveler took a seat near you. It made your skin crawl a bit, but you didn’t show any outward reaction.

“Say, Paimon never asked your name.”

“You can call me [Name].” The only person who knew you in this country was the Dendro Archon, and you doubted they would tell her about you, so there was no point in using another name. Also that was too much work.

“So [Name], is this your first time in Sumeru? We can show you all the best restaurants if you need it!” Ah, so the agents were also accurate when they said she liked food a lot. And the fact the Traveler was silent most of the time.

“No, I used to live here. But, I moved away a long time ago, so this is my first time back in many years.”

“That sounds nice. It must feel good to be back, huh? It’s too bad the Interdarshan Championship isn’t taking place this year. That would have been lots of fun!” Paimon sighed, memories of the last one flowing through her mind. Ah yes, you remember that as well. You and Zandik were never chosen as nominees of course… but it was a fun event to observe. For you at least. Zandik would always go on about how foolish the competitors were, how they couldn’t see how simple the seemingly difficult challenge was. You always laughed at his criticism.

“Mhm, it’s too bad. Maybe I can come back another time to see that.”

“Yeah, you definitely should! Speaking of, did you come here with anyone?”

“Yes, my husband accompanied me here. But he’s working right now, so I’m by myself.”

“Aww, that’s too bad. It must be lonely to enjoy a festival by yourself, huh?”

“Perhaps a little bit, but I do not mind. He’s taken care of me for countless years along with his work duties, it’s more than enough for me to even have the opportunity to experience this festival.”

“Wow, you two really do sound like a loving couple!”

“Hehe, yes… yes, we are,” you had started to smile loopily at the thought of Dottore and ignored the look the Traveler and Paimon gave you. But your attention returned when the stage lights flickered on and the crowd started to simmer down.

“Looks like the performance is starting! Oh, Paimon can’t wait to see what Nilou has in store this time!” You were excited to see it as well.

—

The performances were delightful. The play was well-acted and interesting, and the red-haired girl’s dance at the end was beautiful. Huh… you wish they had more festivals like this in Snezhnaya. Or maybe they did, and you didn’t know about them. You’d have to ask Bina about that when you return.

“That was so, so touching,” Paimon sniffed as the Traveler comforted their friend. You couldn’t help but agree as well. “We have to go say hi to Nilou now!” The Traveler and Paimon rose as you watched them.

“Just stay here [Name], we’ll be back in a few minutes!” You smiled at them as they went off to greet their friend before you quickly dropped your expression. Stay? With them? Nah, you had enough for today. You wanted to go back to Dottore now and bother him to let you cuddle him on his lap. So when they weren’t looking, you slipped out of the theater, and your bodyguards slyly followed, attracting the attention of no one.

Ah, you had a lot of things to say to Dottore now, didn’t you…

—

“Huh? Where did [Name] go?” When the pair returned, you were gone.

“They must have left. I bet it’s because you were asking them so many questions, Paimon,” the Traveler teased her.

“Hey! Paimon was being friendly and they didn’t seem to mind! Anyway, let’s go outside. It’s only been a few minutes, maybe they’re still around.” The pair exited and walked around the city for a bit, but you had already disappeared into thin air.

“Traveler, Paimon! It’s nice to see you again!” A gentle voice called out to them. It was Nahida, who walked up to them with a bright smile on her face. The other two responded in kind.

“Oh, hey Nahida! Long time no see, huh?”

“Yes, it’s been quite a while. You must come over for a bit and tell me about your travels sometime. I guess you’ve been enjoying the Akademiya Extravaganza, right?”

“Yup! Traveler and Paimon enjoyed a lot of fun games and delicious food! And then we went to see some performances at the theater, and now we were looking for someone, but eh, it’s not really important anymore.”

“Hmm? Looking for who?”

“Just someone we met a few hours ago at the theater. Their name is [Name].” The Dendro Archon’s eyes widened at the mention of your name, immediately straightening up.

“[Name]? Did you say [Name]?” The Traveler and Paimon noticed the God’s surprised expression and inquired about it.

“Yeah, do you know them, Nahida?”

“I… I can’t believe it. Do they happen to look like…” Nahida then went off to give a brief description of you, and the Traveler confirmed that you indeed matched her words. Paimon was a bit worried.

“Nahida, why are you asking us this? You’re making it seem like we were talking to a long-lost criminal or something.”

“Well, I suppose that wouldn’t be too far off. This [Name] that you’ve met is… part of the Fatui. But that’s not the big part. They’re the Doctor’s lover.” It was silent for a few seconds before Paimon responded, nearly yelling as the Traveler’s jaw dropped.

“The man [Name] is married to is THE DOCTOR?!”

“Oh, so they’re married now? Last time I heard they weren’t.”

“Nahida, surely you must be mistaken, right? You’re far too casual about this, no one could be dating the Doctor of their own free will!” Nahida was about to respond when yet another voice interrupted.

“She’s not lying.” A familiar voice echoed from somewhere and the group turned to face it. It was the former Sixth Harbinger, standing to the side, braced against the wall. “That [Name] is indeed the partner of Dottore. I met them while I was in the Fatui.”

“Ahh… Paimon’s head hurts…” The Traveler nodded in agreement as they too rubbed their head at this revelation. “But why? Why would they want to be with the Doctor?”

“It’s futile to ask me about their relationship,” the puppet scoffed. “I cannot begin to comprehend how the two of them supposedly love each other. I’ve spoken to them a few times…” the puppet thought back to those encounters in the lab, “but our conversations did little to enlighten me on the nature of their relationship.”

“[Name] and Dottore have a long history together. It’s… complicated, but I’m not lying when I say they’ve been together for centuries. But what concerns me is that if [Name] is here, then the Doctor must be close by as well… and the Fatui too… He wouldn’t let them roam around all by themselves.”

“Oh no! That’s right, [Name] said that their husband accompanied them here. So that means the Doctor is in Sumeru!”

“I see… the Matra would have noticed if a boat of Fatui arrived at the port… so that means the other agents must be well disguised. But nothing has happened lately. Sumeru has been at peace like usual, there’s nothing that the Fatui have been digging their nose into recently. I wonder…” the God of Wisdom began to mumble to herself while Wanderer merely looked on.

“Paimon would have never guessed they were in the Fatui… do you think they were lying about their illness too?”

“No, they are indeed afflicted with a mysterious illness. From what I know, [Name] used to be quite a formidable force four hundred years ago. But their illness gradually sapped their strength away from them, leaving them as they are now… so they have virtually no physical prowess anymore.”

“Oh… that’s quite sad. Wait, but that doesn’t change the fact they’re part of the Fatui, with the Doctor no less! They’re our enemy, no doubt!”

“That’s not to mean [Name] is weak. Although their mind has certainly been ravaged by many things, they possess a strong will. Not to mention, they are the one and only Doctor’s close confidant. I’m sure if pressed, they have some tricks up their sleeves.”

“We have to do something! The Fatui are always up to no good, I bet they have some horrible, evil plan to… to… ruin the Akademiya Extravaganza! We can’t let them do that!” Paimon exclaimed while the Traveler nodded in complete agreement. “Nahida, what’s the plan?”

“The plan is to let them be.”

“H-Huh? Nahida, you’re just going to let them go?”

“That’s correct, Paimon.”

“Lesser Lord Kusanali, are you sure?” Even Wanderer, who usually went along with the God albeit with some moaning and groaning, had an objection.

“The festival has been going on for several days now, and tomorrow is the last day. If the Fatui truly were planning something, it would have been done by now. And to be honest, I suspect that the only reason the Doctor made the trip here was for…” You, Nahida wanted to say, but then decided against it. She wasn’t one hundred percent sure, after all. “Actually, never mind. Don’t worry about it, Traveler, Paimon. But if you happen to see them tomorrow, you could speak to them again. I am admittedly… interested in [Name].”

“Well… alright Nahida. We trust you.”

—

While the group was busy chatting about you, you were making your way back to Dottore. It was already evening, and all you wanted to do was relax in the embrace of your beloved. However today, the Fatui agents were escorting somewhere else rather than your temporary home. Where? The more you walked, the quicker you realized.

The large Ruin Golem in the mountains of Sumeru’s forest.

Seeing it from a distance brought back fond memories for you. You remember the first time you and Zandik entered it. He was incredibly fascinated with it and literally spent hours in it. Of course, you were forced to stay with him and help him with all the research and note-taking. But looking back, it was fun. And you may or may not have kissed him a lot in there, and he was very annoyed at you breaking his focus, but did nothing to stop you.

This same spot, near the Ruin Golem, was also a frequent star-gazing spot. Because he would spend so long there, even until night fell, and you kept insisting it’d be romantic to watch the stars here. He didn’t really agree but… Zandik surprisingly indulged you more than you realized.

Soon, you were much closer to the Ruin Golem and Dottore was in sight, waiting for you. The Fatui agents bowed to you as you dismissed them and made your way over to your husband, who was patiently waiting for you while gazing at the large robot in front of him. You wondered if he had finished his work, for him to be wasting time like this.

(In reality, there was no real mission in Sumeru. The five-day long trip was done to indulge your long-time wishes. Pierro had only let Dottore go on it if he managed to finish at least three-quarters of his paperwork before the trip, and the other quarter during it. So needless to say, Dottore had worked quite hard to acquire this time off, but you didn’t need to know that because then you would feel absolutely terrible and he’d have to deal with your countless apologies.)

“[Name],” he greeted you.

“Zandik!” You immediately hugged him to which he reciprocated and patted your head. “I missed you! Oh, I have so much to tell you. You wouldn’t believe what happened. I met the-”

“Traveler,” Dottore interrupted.

“You know already?”

“Of course. I was notified the moment it happened.”

“Oh.” Well, now that you think about it, that made sense. Of course, Dottore would be aware of everything that happened to you… you were alone, but in a way you weren’t. He still had that overprotective and possessive streak, and rightfully so. He chuckled at your reaction.

“But, I believe your point of view will be far more eye-opening. So please, do tell.” You brightened and immediately began prattling about everything, not before you two laid down on the grass and got comfortable, the same as you did four hundred years ago. Though Dottore wasn’t particularly worried about the Traveler doing anything to you, no, of course, he had planned for this possibility (unlike you) and already had measures in place just in case anything happened.

So the conversation began to move onto softer things. Like you bringing up old memories every five seconds. For example, you two also used to come here frequently to investigate the forest for classes. Zandik usually found these ones boring and was much more interested in Ruin Machines, so you often sped through these boring expeditions in record time so he could do more “fun” things.

“Perhaps we should do that again.”

“Do what? Investigate the biodiversity of Sumeru’s forest?”

“Correct.” You laughed at his words but Dottore looked rather serious about it.

“Isn’t the sun going to set soon? And I thought you weren’t interested in that stuff anymore.”

You were surprised he was doing this, but Dottore had already risen to his feet and stuck out his hand to you expectantly.

“No matter. We can still see, no? And I do believe it will be interesting to see how it has changed over four hundred years.” That was a lie. He didn’t actually care about the plants of the forest. He was only doing it because he knew it was something you would like. And he was right of course, for you smiled happily and took his hand, clasping it tightly.

“Alright then! I’ll lead the way, just like old times,” you puffed your chest out. “Just follow me, Zandik. And you’re taking notes this time! You don’t know what you put my hand through all those years ago!” Dottore only chuckled at your huffing. You were always on note duty because he kept breaking his pens and spilling ink everywhere, much to your dismay.

But regardless, you two spent an evening examining Sumeru’s fauna, the conversation turning surprisingly rather intellectual. But it soon turned quiet as you two ended the night off by gazing at the stars, just like old times.

The stars may be a lie, but sometimes lies are still beautiful.

—

Today was the last day of the Akademiya Extravaganza, and you decided to spend the day enjoying the city one last time. You were set to leave with Dottore this afternoon, so you only had about half a day to do what you needed to do. You didn’t know when you’d be back again, so you wanted to imprint it into your mind, and maybe get a few souvenirs as well. It all went well, you did what you needed to do, bought what you wanted and passed it on to your agents to keep for you, and were actually about to head back to Dottore when you met some familiar faces.

The Traveler and Paimon… again. It seemed like the Gods really did hate you, huh?

“Hey [Name]!” That familiar high-pitched voice waved to you and called out your name… ugh. Just as you were about to go, too. But you pretended otherwise.

“Hello Paimon, Traveler. It is good to see you again. I must apologize for leaving yesterday. I had… matters to attend to,” you apologized.

“Don’t worry about that! Paimon understands.” You smiled back in response and waited to see if the pair would say anything else, but they just… stood there for a few seconds and looked at you.

“Well, if that’s all…” You turned to leave, but Paimon blurted out a strained response unusually quickly.

“Wait! Paimon means, would you like to take a walk with us? Our conversation got cut short yesterday, it would be nice to talk a bit more.” You squinted a bit at Paimon’s expression. It seemed a bit… off. Regardless, you did have some more time to kill, and perhaps they would tell you something of amusement you could relay back to Dottore. So it wasn’t too bad of a decision.

“Alright, that sounds fine,” you nodded in agreement. Paimon had to hold in her sigh of relief. And so the three of you began to walk, taking in the sights of the city. Paimon asked you some more questions, but she seemed a bit… nervous? You weren’t dumb, the more she talked the easier it was to notice. The Traveler was good at keeping a poker face, but Paimon on the other hand, was not. She was nervously looking back and forth between you and the blonde. Which could only mean one thing.

They knew your real identity.

Ah, so they found out. Huh. You weren’t expecting that, but you didn’t care much. They were bound to find out eventually, so long as they kept fighting the Fatui. You didn’t know if they were going to confront you right now or not, but you weren’t going to wait around for it. You knew your Fatui bodyguards were close by somewhere, but you didn’t want them to get hurt by the Traveler, so you stretched your arms out, a signal for them to back away a bit. Because you already had a defense mechanism readied that you didn’t want to affect them. Courtesy of Dottore, of course.

So before Paimon could ask another question, you abruptly stopped. You two had exited the city, so there were no regular civilians around either.

“[Name], why did you-”

“There’s no need to pretend anymore. You know who I am, don’t you?” The looks on their faces gave it all away, and the Traveler instantly put up their guard, which you chuckled at.

“Now now, there’s no need to get all worked up. Surely the ever-righteous Traveler won’t hurt a poor, defenseless soul like me, right?” You simply smiled at them, and Paimon was immediately on the verbal defense.

“Hey! You’re in no position here to be saying stuff like that! The Traveler here has taken out countless Fatui, you’re no different,” the travel guide bluffed. She remembered Nahida’s instructions to let you be, but how could she let you talk to her like that?! “And, and,” she scratched her brain for another warning, “we’ll take you to the Matra for questioning!” Paimon blurted out her best threat, which you only laughed at.

“Oh no, I’m so scared…”

“Hey! We’re not joking! You’re connected with the Doctor, they’ll lock you up!”

“Mhm, you know all of that, don’t you? And yes, I’m well aware of your martial prowess,” you looked directly at the blonde. “The same hands killed Omega, didn’t they?” At the segment’s name, the Traveler stiffened. The look in your eyes wasn’t the same as it was before. It had a carefully veiled sense of loathing that had come up to the surface.

“You know, for years I wondered to myself, how did Omega look like in his last moments? What did he think of? What did he do?” Your voice gradually became a soft whisper. “These questions used to drive me mad, but I don’t think I want to know the answer anymore.” The two were shocked at the clear love and longing you had in your voice for the deceased segment. It wasn’t fake at all.

“But why? Why would you willingly be with someone like the Doctor?” Earlier that day, the Traveler and Paimon had decided to scout Sumeru again in hopes of finding notes that you left behind, and after careful exploration once again, they did. Your notes, however, always had careful logical additions left by Zandik. And then, in response… you’d flirt with him on the note, to which the scholar never responded. The pair didn’t know what to feel or say to that.

“Ah, there it is. The same question I receive every time. But it’s okay. I can understand your confusion. Though if I were to stand here and tell you every reason why, it would make you only more confused. So let me answer your question with the simplest answer of them all. I love Dottore. Dottore loves me. That is the foundation of our relationship.” Unfortunately, that answer seemed to only make the two more confused.

“… It seems that you still do not understand. But that’s okay. It’s not like it matters anyway,” you supposed they were unconvinced a man such as Dottore could love, but you weren’t here to convince them of that. So then you turned to leave before Paimon spoke again.

“Where do you think you’re going? You are coming with Traveler and Paimon!” You let out a sigh at this creature’s persistence. Looks like you’d have to do something.

“You know, I was really hoping I wouldn’t have to use this,” you mumbled under your breath before you retrieved a pill from your pocket and swallowed it, although it was a different color from your regular ones. The Traveler continued to watch on carefully, ready to summon their sword at any second.

“Hmph! Any last words?” Paimon put her hands on her hips as she stared at you. You thoughtfully looked up and began to think, before you came up with something. You despised the Traveler, but a question couldn’t help but linger in your chest. And hey, they’ve helped Childe and Arlecchino in the past, despite nearly being killed by them, right? And that Electro God too. You didn’t know if they were stupid or just too nice. It was worth a shot. And, you didn’t care if you were selfish or not. You were tired of being nice.

“Traveler… may I ask you a favor?”

The Traveler raised their eyebrow, partially offended and shocked you would ever ask them that considering the antagonistic stance you took. That was the last thing they expected, but you took their silence as an opportunity to continue.

“You hop to different worlds, don’t you? Different universes?” The Traveler nodded, unsure of where you were going with this. Your gaze flickered to the floor, eyebrows furrowing before you made up your mind.

“Then, when you leave Teyvat, could you… look for me?” Out of everything that could have come out of your mouth, the Traveler could not have expected that.

“I want to know… I just want to know if there exists a world, where none of this happened. Where I was never sick, where he didn’t have to do all of this to find a cure. I want to know if there’s a world where everything is okay for us.” Your eyes fluttered shut as you spoke, loads of memories flashing through your head about everything you’ve gone through. The Traveler and Paimon remained speechless because they truly did not know what to say, before you cringed at yourself for saying something so stupid.

“Ah, what am I saying? I know you have no sympathy for us, it was dumb to ask,” you waved it off. “Forget it. But I’m afraid I’ve wasted too much time here with you. I have things to attend to.” At that moment, you reached into your pocket and produced a strange device, and before the Traveler could summon their sword, an irregular, headache-inducing sound echoed throughout the area. Instantly, the Traveler knew it was the same sound device Omega had used to put them to sleep all those years ago. But it was too late, as their mind became foggy and their knees buckled to the floor.

“To think that you fell for the same thing twice… that’s kind of embarrassing for you, mighty Traveler,” your laugh was the last thing they heard before they fell into a dream. “It’s a good thing Dottore told me to carry this thing… and made a pill so the effects wouldn’t work on me. Well, bye now.”

—

After rendering those two unconscious, you made your way to the boat you and Dottore were going to leave in. Your agents had caught back up to you and you swore you heard them mumbling about how “cool” you were. It was cute.

You saw your husband standing leisurely on the boat. You guess he had no reason to disguise himself considering he was already about to leave. You immediately smiled and climbed onto the boat with his help.

“I guess you were immediately notified of what happened, weren’t you?” You teased.

“Of course,” he went along with your tone. “I am always aware of what hindrances may plague my spouse.” You hummed in acknowledgment as you watched the Fatui prepare to set off.

“You know, this whole trip, I’ve been thinking something stupid.”

“No thought from you could be stupid. Do tell.”

“I’ve been thinking… that I love you so much that it may begin to physically hurt me when you’re not around.” Dottore seemed amused.

“Is that so?”

“Yes, really! All those times when you left me alone in the lab, I swear I started developing some side effects!” You pouted as Dottore found himself laughing at your pain.

“Well, not to worry. I am a doctor, after all, I know very well how to treat this ailment.” Dottore ran his fingers up and down your neck, leaving behind a tingling sensation.

“Oh, do you? Well, go ahead, doctor. Make me feel better.”

“I would be delighted to but, the treatment is a little… hands-on,” his deep voice made your heart race with excitement.

“Aren’t you the one who always gets mad at me for trying to skip my medicine? I see no reason to hesitate.” You smiled boldly.

“As you wish. But don’t say I didn’t warn you…” Dottore then pressed you against the railing of the boat, holding you down so you wouldn’t tip over, and then began to lean into your lips.

(The Fatui agents kept their heads turned the whole time.)

—

That had happened years before the Traveler defeated the Doctor, and consequently killed you in the process. Sometimes they wonder if things could have turned out differently. Especially since some of the other Harbingers were certainly not pleased with them when they finally fought, namely the Third, but she too eventually met her demise. But what’s done is done.

The Traveler thought that would be the last they ever saw of you and the Doctor, but they were wrong. As one would expect, Dottore was connected with many of the events in Teyvat, and so he popped up here and there again throughout the rest of the Traveler’s journey.

But one thing they did not expect was to see you and Dottore again. Where? The Ley Lines had somehow shown them people from the past, as they once did with the Shogun.

It was… strange. Strange to see the two of you just be normal. Normal people, normal students before it all changed. You, a stark contrast to the person they saw before - energetic, bubbly, handling your weapon with ease as you protected Zandik from any possible danger. Zandik, a lot more grouchy and less suave, morally ambiguous but not quite evil yet. Two people who were alone and found company in each other’s likeness. It created a sort of… understanding for the Traveler. Not forgiveness. Understanding.

So when they finally left Teyvat, they decided to fulfill that favor you had asked them. To find you in another universe. It was also to satisfy a sort of curiosity they had themselves. Would you two truly be happy in another world? They would find out as long as they continued to journey with their sibling. So they traveled and traveled and met many new people, and went on many new adventures, your request lingering in the back of their mind every time they visited a new planet.

Admittedly, it was actually kind of… sad to see your fates in the other universes. In many universes, you died, or he died, leaving the other all alone unable to come to terms with their fate. In some universes, you were ill again. You did not survive. In others the relationship did not last, breaking it off due to numerous reasons out of your or Zandik’s control. And maybe the worst fate of them all… you two never crossed paths. Never able to give the other a chance at love.

If the Traveler had a Mora for every time fate divided you two, they might be as rich as Pantalone. They wondered if your request would ever be finished. So when the Traveler entered the next universe, they weren’t expecting much.

This world was a bit different from the others. It had no supernatural powers, but it had great technology. Things like “internet” and “phones” and “computers.” But they had gotten accustomed to it quickly, as they always had. Right now they were at an outdoor cafe, waiting for their sibling when they heard a familiar voice.

“Ugh, I swear, as soon as the term ends, I will be running to give that guy a scalding rating!” The voice spoke with annoyance and a slam followed soon after, presumably textbooks dumped onto the table. This cafe was frequented by students, so this was no surprise for the Traveler. Cheap, yummy, and a good study spot is what they heard from passersby.

“I told you not to take him,” another grouchy voice replied. “You brought this on yourself.”

“You know that he was my only option! I literally got the last seat in the class,” you whined back, the chairs dragging across the concrete. “Besides, I don’t want to hear that from you when you complain about your professors every single day, Zandik.” That name nearly made the Traveler choke on their drink.

Zandik? Did they hear that right…? They turned around, hoping not to arouse attention, and then their eyes widened as they looked at the pair that just arrived.

They were the spitting image of the [Name] and Dottore from Teyvat, although these people were dressed in different clothes that were normal for this planet. There were a few minor differences that the Traveler only recognized because they were familiar with Teyvat’s version of you, but there was no doubt about it.

These two people were this planet’s version of you and Dottore. But the question was, were you two happy together? The Traveler needed to find out, and this position wasn’t good for spying so they moved to another inconspicuous location.

Zandik only rolled his eyes at your defiant quip before opening his heavy textbook, which you soon followed suit. The friendly banter between the two of you flowed naturally. When the food came, you tried feeding him the piece of cake which Zandik tried shooing your hand away, but had to give in after a while with slightly red cheeks. Your hands occasionally brushed against each other, but neither of you pulled away. Interesting, very interesting. Could this be the universe…?

After you two left the cafe, the Traveler decided to follow. This was probably a bit stalkerish, but they just needed to confirm. (Good thing they had skill in this area.)

In the busy public streets, your shoulders only brushed, but when it became more deserted, you reached out to hold hands with Zandik. He huffed and mumbled something to you, which the blonde could not hear, though you only responded with a laugh as you squeezed his hand tighter. But then your attention was diverted by something else.

“Oh, look there Zandik! Do you see that?” You whisper-yelled, drawing his attention to a tree branch. “It’s a raven and a sparrow! Together! The thing is on top of the other’s head!” You couldn’t contain your amusement. “Isn’t that really strange? Don’t ravens eat sparrows sometimes?”

“Yes, and the sparrow must be rather stupid for allowing itself to get so close to something that can kill it,” Zandik said bluntly.

“That’s not nice,” you poked him for that comment. “Just because they’re different doesn’t mean they can’t be friends. Just like us, Zandik!”

“The world is not that nice, [Name],” he sighed, your optimism causing him great headaches sometimes.

“Yeah, I know thatttt~. But you never know! Hehe, you know, this reminds me of the time a few months back when a butterfly landed on your nose. You looked so cute! Ah, I’m so glad I got a picture.” Zandik immediately scowled, because you set the bloody thing as your wallpaper, so anyone who looked at your phone’s home screen could see the embarrassing moment. Ajax and his wretched finance and theater friends did not let him hear the end of it. Your boyfriend then started walking much faster, dragging you along as you yelped at the increased speed.

“Stop babbling and hurry up, otherwise I’ll leave you behind.”

“Okay, okay! Just slow down!!”

Soon, the two of you reached your newly rented apartment. Both of you had only recently moved out of the dorms, but it had been a lot of fun decorating and growing accustomed to this new life. The Traveler watched as you disappeared into the building, and then noticed your figure again through a window near the upper level. You were cradling an animal, a cat actually, and kissed it gently. Zandik then made his way over, uncharacteristically scratching its chin as well, before saying something to you. (Perhaps scolding you for giving your pet too much attention. A very Zandik way of saying he himself wanted more attention too.) You only shook your head with mirth before pressing a kiss to your lover’s lips, and the two of you moved away from the window, now out of sight.

Well, the Traveler’s job was done now. You and Zandik were happy. Maybe not in Teyvat, maybe not in any other world but… you two were happy in this one. And that was all you wished for.

[Name] and Zandik were happy.

And that’s the perfect ending for a fairy tale, right?

504 notes · View notes

mischelmayleys · 8 months ago

Text

Only this first one is going to be post here probably so for more go to my wattpad: football_woman_11

CHAPTER 1

Mapi and Ingrid were the perfect ending for each other. They knew it of course. But sometimes they felt like something was missing. Maybe someone. Some little legs running around their shared apartment in the catalonia town.

It started as a thought from their conversation one simple evening that turned them into a fostering process. They were told they are too busy and always traveling for the games as all the workers have said. It wasn't an environment for a little kid that probably came out of something tragic to find itself in a foster system.

They still tried. They still asked if there was someone they could foster and later adopt. But the simple "No" set their hopes to minimum, until one day.

„Are you totally insane Eliza!" My social worker yelled at me as soon as she found me in a police station sitting in the 24 hour jail. I looked down at my bleeding knuckles and pursed my lips to stop the pounding pain in them.

I shrugged my shoulders and let myself sink further into the uncomfortable wooden chair.

„Do you have any idea how this will look on your record. Running from yet another of your homes is one thing there but fights. And don't let me start at your school records." She was looking at me through the bars of the cell.

„They weren't my home." I said looking up at her.

She sighs: „Eliza I know you don't like them, but you need to at least try. There aren't many families that want a 16 year old, yet trouble maker. You know how hard it was for me to find you Mr and Mrs Freemans?" She let the question sink. She didn't expect me to answer her, yet she stayed quiet.

„I was protecting myself in the fight AND running away was a way better option than staying." I argued back at her. She doesn't know how it is in the foster system. For her every family is good, but it's never the case.

I was in five families so far. Neither of them were okay.

In the first one the father abused me mentally the second one physically, but no one ever believed me.

Who would believe a 16year old girl over people who put everything together once they're investigating? No one...

I didn't eat normal food for a long time, of course I always ended up getting some bread or cold food, but my body was missing some hot and fresh food.

„Eliza we talked about this. A roof over your head is home.“ Again I stayed quiet and just stared at my now numb hands. She wasn’t right. Home is when you are somewhere you are loved and treated right.

My social worker continued to look at me for a few more minutes until she signaled for the cop to release me: „You are sleeping in my office tonight. The family dropped your things into my car. Come on.“ She grabbed me by my arm and dragged me into her car.

„You bailed me out?“ I asked as she started the engine.

„Yes.“ It was a simple answer but it made me smile a little. At least someone cared.

The next day my social worker forced me into my classes and said after school to go immediately to her office, saying she found a family for me to stay over there for a couple of days. I didn’t bother to go, instead I went to a small football field where I sneaked and borrowed one ball which was always lying around somewhere on the pitch.

I threw my backpack onto the field which didn’t include any of my school stuff. Instead of books it was filled with my football shoes and a half of my skateboard. The other half was showing from the back pack as it of course didn’t fit into him.

I quickly changed my shoes and began to do some tricks with the ball that I learned online. They were simple but at least I didn't suck at it like I did with school.

It wasn't like I was stupid or something, I just didn't care. Foster kids don't normally get picked out to the school football team or to anything really. You don't have many friends because you are always moving around and no one likes new kids anyway.

After some time my phone blew up with messages and missed calls from my social worker asking where the FUCK I was. I just rolled my eyes and said I'll be there in a few minutes. It was better to come late, at least they won't pick me if they see that I'm not bothered.

I would lie if I didn't say I was scared to go into the office door. It would mean meeting the people who I would live with. They never were nice people fostering me.

They seemed okay but most of them turned out into drug junkies, alcoholics or abusers. Sometimes all at once. I am kind of used to it now. I mastered a skill in running away and quickly scanning the areas I was in to see a potential way out.

I took a deep breath and with a bored expression knocked on the door and opened them immediately after.

I was met with my social worker and two women talking.

„Eliza, come here. Sit.” My social worker said, making me sigh and sit into the chair next to her facing the two women.

„This is Maria and Ingrid and they will take you in, until I find someone to adopt you.” my social worker was saying but all I was focusing on were the two women in front of me.

One of them had tattoos all over her arms and one on her neck. I focused on that one more:

Looks can be deceiving

Hmm interesting. People with tattoos tend to look aggressive and most of the time they are. One of the last foster homes I was in, the man had many tattoos…I used to look at them when he beat me up. How his muscles flexed and the tattoos moved on his arms.

„Eliza!” I was torn from my thoughts because my social worker called my name.

„Yeah, sure whatever.” I mumbled annoyed and stood up.

„Be nice and please stay out of trouble.” She said as I followed Ingrid and Maria out of the door.

I took a deep breath: „No.” And with that I closed the door and turned around to find them staring at me.

„What?” I asked.

Ingrid smiles at me: „We are waiting for you.” she stuck out her hand and I just looked at it and walked past them.

„Or not.” I heard Maria mumble as they followed me closely.

Due to me not knowing where to go I stopped and looked back at the two women.

„It’s that black Cupra.” Ingrid pointed out a black car sitting at the back of the parking lot.

I nodded and walked to the car feeling them right behind me.

I quickly slipped into the back seat and sat down with my backpack next to all of my bags which I don't know how they got there. Probably my social worker.

I pulled my board between my legs so I don't make the interior of the car dirty. It was so clean.

„So, are you hungry? Or did you eat in school?” Maria turned from the front seat facing me.

I shook my head quickly: „I am not hungry.” I learned that by now, when someone asks me if I'm hungry the answer always has to be no. I once said yes and I hadn't eaten anything for three days due to me being ungrateful.

They both shared a concerned look which I didn't see because I was already looking out of the window.

When Ingrid stopped the car I realized that we were in front of McDonald's. I frowned, why are we here if I said I'm not hungry?

„I know you said you aren't hungry but I think some fries aren't that big of a deal, what do you say?” Ingrid turned my way smiling. Why the fuck is she smiling at me?

„I guess…” I mumbled in case this was some kind of a trap. Ingrid and Maria looks nice…nicer that the other people, but I am done trusting the system putting me somewhere nice.

They both went outside of the car as I stayed in.

„Well you are coming too let's go.” Maria said as she opened the door on my side. Fuck! I mumbled under my breath and got out of the car carefully placing my board into the space between the seats.

They were asking too many questions. If I really want just fries? If I want a burger as well? Or what I want to drink. I tried to reply short and no to most of the questions, but in the end I ended up with The nuggets, fries and coke zero in the back placed safely in my lap as we sat in the car to their house.

I still don’t know what to think about them. They are smiling at me, buying me food and making sure I have everything and it has only been two hours since they first met me. There must be something wrong with them…

Ingrid parked the car in front of a flat building in the center of Barcelona. It looked expensive here…or at least better than the streets where my usual foster parents lived. Maria took all of my bags even though I said I could carry them on my own, but she dismissed me by saying: “Why would you do that?”

I didn’t fight her back on it, not because I didn’t want to, but it was Ingrid who literally guided me out of Marias way.

“Come on let Maria be, I am going to show you your room.” Ingrid said and with her hand on my back she led me into the elevator. I had the Mcdonald's back in one hand and my board in the other one. I get my own room?

#woso #women's football #fc barcelona #espwnt #woso community #mapi leon #ingrid engen #ingrid engen x reader #mapi leon x reader #foster care

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astroyongie · 15 days ago

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𓍢ִ໋☕️✧˚ ༘ ⋆ Christmas Female Idol Tea 𓍢ִ໋☕️✧˚ ༘ ⋆

Note: Hello everyone and Merry Christmas/ Happy Yule to everyone who celebrates theses days! for today we have a little gift. This is a tea post done through tarot, so please take it lightly.

-> Questions regarding who X is won't be answered. You can however send in theories about who you think X is but there won't be denial or confirmation from my part.

-> Each X is one member from the group.

♡➳༻❀ ☕ ❀༺➳♡♡➳༻❀ ☕ ❀༺➳♡♡➳༻❀ ☕ ❀༺➳♡

Red Velvet

not only her career will keep blooming and be prosperous, X will have another solo in 2025 since her last one was rather well perceive by the general public

January will be an interesting month for X.. she needs to be careful on protecting herself if she doesn't want to end up with a round belly

X has met someone through a night party organized by SM. This person seems to have good intentions toward her and they have clicked together. not an idol but someone who works in the industry

X is going through some huge inner conflicts with herself. she is developing a lot of complex as she allowed some mean comments get to her

X is healthy, both mentally, emotionally and spiritually

♡➳༻❀ ☕ ❀༺➳♡♡➳༻❀ ☕ ❀༺➳♡♡➳༻❀ ☕ ❀༺➳♡

Blackpink

X has refused an endorsement with a huge and very famous brand

X needs to stop smoking and be more careful with her health, especially her breathing. i am feeling like she could easily develop a few diseases if she isn't careful with her consumptions

X has cheated on her partner or she was the one who cheated. hard to guess

Ever since May, X has been lying to the public about her whereabouts and her public life in general to keep the appearances

♡➳༻❀ ☕ ❀༺➳♡♡➳༻❀ ☕ ❀༺➳♡♡➳༻❀ ☕ ❀༺➳♡

Aespa

X is with this one idol, but largely she has been avoiding to be around him because she feels overwhelmed with his ideas for the future. X feels alone despite many people round her

4 months ago, X started a relationship and she is realizing now that this person isn’t liking her for who she is. it seems like her partner doesn’t like her as much as they initially thought

2025 is X year as she will be promoting a lot outside korea

X is in a loving relationship, maybe with her forever partner

♡➳༻❀ ☕ ❀༺➳♡♡➳༻❀ ☕ ❀༺➳♡♡➳༻❀ ☕ ❀༺➳♡

Gidle

X didn’t want to renew her contract with the company, but the whole month of September was a month of self reflection for her. she is still sacred that the CEO will do something nasty on their back

X feels lucky and she is happy to be renewing because that is what she wanted. 2025 will be a good year for her individually

X is a victim of some strong spiritual blockage. she has seen a few shamans to be able to get rid of the heavy feeling in her shoulders, but it seems it hasn’t yet left

2025 will be a totally nw cycle and new year for X and she will be more free to express herself and do the projects she wasn't able to in 2024

X’s payments are 9 weeks late.

♡➳༻❀ ☕ ❀༺➳♡♡➳༻❀ ☕ ❀༺➳♡♡➳༻❀ ☕ ❀༺➳♡

Itzy

X has some hot tea on JYP, and who knows, it might slip one day

It’s been around 9 months since X family is trying to battle with the company so they can break off the contract of X with the company so she leaves the group

5 days ago X has started getting closer with someone she met during collab

X has fought and has won the heart of her current partner

X has been dealing with a lot of anxiety lately but she is trying to hide it because she believes she is “better than this” which isn't helping her

♡➳༻❀ ☕ ❀༺➳♡♡➳༻❀ ☕ ❀༺➳♡♡➳༻❀ ☕ ❀༺➳♡

StayC

2025 will be way better for X when it comes to health in general

X will have a solo project in 2025

X is still in her toxic and co dependent relationship with a fellow member (they broke up and got together again). it's been 7 months since they have come together

Ever since spring, X has been dealing with a lot of emotional suffering, poor mental health a dn a lot of grief and despair. I am concerned for her well being.

6 months ago, X went through something very traumatic

X will make an important choice for her career in 2025

♡➳༻❀ ☕ ❀༺➳♡♡➳༻❀ ☕ ❀༺➳♡♡➳༻❀ ☕ ❀༺➳♡

June will be a very interesting month for X and her little project

X has been dating a very hot topic korean idol since July

X is dating the CEO of their company

X baby scare?? who knows

X has been very close with her family and despite her young age she knows that becoming a mother is one of her dreams beside music

X hates fans that are always following them everywhere including airports, hotels, outside in the street, ect

X has been growing distant from the group after a few arguments that have happened. she doesn't feel seen by the company either

♡➳༻❀ ☕ ❀༺➳♡♡➳༻❀ ☕ ❀༺➳♡♡➳༻❀ ☕ ❀༺➳♡

Twice

X has been living with her partner for the past 8 months

X 2025 career will take a new turn and fans might get sad by it

X is in a stable relationship

X’s physical condition is really ba, her tiredness and exhaustion is actively messing with her physical health

X is dating this idol who has currently light brown hair for the past 3 weeks

X has tried dating a woman this year

X has been undergoing therapy to deal with her mental issues that were affecting her quality of life

X has thyroid issues which influences her weight and health

X is a very nice idol and people often take her kindness for granted

♡➳༻❀ ☕ ❀༺➳♡♡➳༻❀ ☕ ❀༺➳♡♡➳༻❀ ☕ ❀༺➳♡

Mamamoo

X has been dating a very famous divorced actor since last autumn

X will surprise everyone with a surprising solo in 2025

X is honestly a sweet girl but a lot of people don't care about her

X is dealing with a very complicated poor mental health which has been impacting her health but her career as well

♡➳༻❀ ☕ ❀༺➳♡♡➳༻❀ ☕ ❀༺➳♡♡➳༻❀ ☕ ❀༺➳♡

Le Sserafim

There isn't much to say about X, other than her life has been rather stable lately. she is however seeing 7 different people but they weren't anything official

X has been giving y’all signs about the change she will make in her career

All of her outside friends and the people she hangs out with are toxic as well and it is showing on X a lot

X is in a healthy relationship at the moment

X has been giving “help calls” to her fans but they seem not to notice it

♡➳༻❀ ☕ ❀༺➳♡♡➳༻❀ ☕ ❀༺➳♡♡➳༻❀ ☕ ❀༺➳♡

IVE

X is also in a relationship where there’s a toxic bond. it’s not healthy but she also doesn’t want to let go of them

X doesn’t care what people say about her on the internet and yet she still tries to reach a certain standard. she lives through a double edged sword

X’s energy is very heavy and dark, and she probably needs to be spiritually purified

X has been in a relationship like 4 days ago and this person is maybe the person that shall stay in her life for a long moment

X will not only have a big boom in 2025, she will make solo projects and a solo as well

X’s relationship wasn’t the best before of the age gap between her and her partner but since August they have been able to work it out and they are on something way more mature and healthy

♡➳༻❀ ☕ ❀༺➳♡♡➳༻❀ ☕ ❀༺➳♡♡➳༻❀ ☕ ❀༺➳♡

Kiss Of Life

X is either having a baby scare, either she has been wishing to become a mother or she has been seeking for her mother's support a lot. i will allow you to choose which one makes sense

X’s mental health is so much better. she is a very positive girl and she alway snakes bad look good through the way she sees life

Solo project for X in 2025

X is in a relationship with an idol since this summer who is 5 years older than her

#Kpop readings #tarot #tarot readings #tarot kpop #red velvet #blackpink #itzy #aespa #gidle #mamamoo #twice #XG #stayc #ive #le sserafim #kiss of life

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daisies-and-domming · 14 days ago

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Boxing Day (SFW)

Thank you to @glassofapplejuicee for beta reading saving this work! Love you so much babes, don't know what I would do without you <3

Happy Merry Boxing Day, everyone! I’ve been a little quiet as of late (oops), but I figured a fluffy little set of headcanons about our favorite boys would get me writing again. Lo and behold, it totally worked - so Happy Holidays everyone, and enjoy!

Summary: You and your partner had a Merry Christmas, but now it’s time for you to move on to the new year! How long does it take for you to take down all of your Christmas decorations, and what challenges do you run into along the way?

Warnings: light swearing, petnames (Gojo is a menace, Nanami calls you darling, Sukuna calls you brat, Toji calls you doll, Shoko calls you lovely), minor injuries in Toji’s

Features Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Sukuna, Fushiguro (Toji), Ieiri, Higuruma

Let me know if you think I missed anything!!

All characters are over 18 :)

– – –

Gojo Satoru

If anyone is over the top, it’s Gojo. Definitely takes Christmas decorations too far, and is not past putting vulgar things on the tree. Tried to decorate it with Polaroids of you in…compromising positions, much to your chagrin. You shut that one down pretty quickly.

One of those rich assholes who hires people to put up/take down the lights outside. Before you, he definitely had only the boring white lights and maybe one of those sad wire light-up reindeers (like this, for example). Just one of them, all alone - he thinks it’s symbolic and deep because he was all alone at the time but it really just makes his huge yard look extra empty.

With you, however, he wants to do it himself. He thinks there’s something magical about putting up decorations together, with people you love.

(It’s sweet, really, until he sucks at it and cries because he has no actual idea how to do it - why is it so hard to hang the lights straight?? Or at all, for that matter?? You’ll probably end up having to do all the work)

Once Christmas comes and goes, he does NOT want to take stuff down. You put it up “together” (you put it up), he wants to leave it up forever! A memory of the Christmas you spent together.

Plus, his big house feels a lot less empty with all the lights and garlands and various other decorations he spent too much money on. Please, let him leave it up?

You probably let him get away with leaving up the tree until the beginning of January. He, of course, bought a huge, very much real, tree. The needles are a mess, and when it reaches the point where there are barely any needles left on the tree, you put your foot down.

He’s whining the whole time you two are taking it down. He tries to sneak out and drag it back inside, but you catch him every time.

Don’t even get him started on taking down the lights…

– – –

“But baaaaaaaabe!!”

“Gojo Satoru.”

“Full government name? You wound me, baby! Just like you’re wounding our beautiful Christmas memories!”

You groan, rolling your eyes at your boyfriend’s whines. “Satoru, you’re the one who wanted a real tree. I told you it was too much responsibility and cleaning, but you-”

“Baby,” he said, eyes watery and lips pulled downward in a pout. “Why’re you so mean to me, huh? Just want to keep all of our Christmas memories safe, is all.”

You soften at this. Satoru didn’t really get a chance to celebrate Christmas often, before you. You know there’s no way in hell his family celebrated with him, and you’re sure that once he lost his best friend (on Christmas Eve, no less), he and Shoko didn’t truly celebrate again. This was the first real Christmas he’s had in a while.

“Toru,” you murmur, pulling him to you. “We have plenty of years in the future to make new Christmas memories, hm? We’ll get to put up Christmas decorations all over again.”

His eyes find yours, and you wonder briefly if the glow in his eyes is the lights he refuses to take down, or the jujutsu endlessly flowing through him.. There’s a hint of something melancholy hidden in them, mixed with something else you can’t quite put your finger on. He doesn’t say anything, just looks, almost studying you - you’d be freaked out if you didn’t know him so well. Know that your words and your kindness were unfamiliar to him. In a world where he’s expected to be the strongest, he doesn’t know what to do when someone expects him to just be himself. You want every piece of him, the good and the bad, the strong and the weak, and you try to convey that as much as you can with your eyes.

You let him stare until the silence becomes too thick, too heavy with something inexplicably sad that leaves a lump in your throat and a weight on your chest. You pull your hand away from his, running a gentle thumb over his cheek. Your eyes can’t seem to leave his, as much as it hurts.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you say, with such finality that he can’t help the smile that stretches across his face. It’s still full of grief, but there’s a glimmer of hope in it, too. “You know that Toru. I’m here. I’ll always be here, okay? Don’t you forget it.”

“I won’t.” he says, devoid of his usual humor. “You promise me?”

“I promise, Toru.” you say. You barely get it out before he’s smashing his lips to yours. It’s messy, it’s frantic, and it’s full of all the words he can’t say. He knows it’s selfish of him. To want you, to love you. His life is full of danger and death around every corner, and he knows that by bringing you into his life he’s brought you into that, too. But he can’t help himself. Gojo Satoru gets what he wants, he always has, and there’s nothing he wants more than you.

So he holds you close, and hopes that you keep wanting him forever, too.

Geto Suguru

He’s been going all out for Christmas since he found Nanako and Mimiko. It was clear that the two had never really had a proper family, and he wanted to give them that as much as he could.

He went all out when they were little - fake reindeer hoofprints in the yard, piles of presents under the tree, half eaten cookies left on the plate labelled “for Santa”. The girls are his whole world, and he’d pluck the moon from the sky if they asked him to.

The girls love you, too, once you become part of their Christmas traditions (even though Suguru made you tell them that Santa’s not real because he couldn’t do it himself). You’ve helped give them a family that they never had, and they welcome you with open arms.

Nanako and Mimiko become menaces when you even mention that it’s about time you all take the Christmas decorations down. They love the way the house feels brighter with all the decorations up. Expect a bit of a fight (and no help from your boyfriend, who seemingly can’t tell his girls “no”).

– – –

“Absolutely not.” “You want to do what?!”

Okay, so maybe it wasn’t your best idea to suggest taking down the tree, after all. You figured it’d be a good thing to do together - a touch of family time that you don’t always get with the girls - but they seemed to be appalled that you had even suggested such a thing.

“Nana, Mimi, it’s not Christmas anymore.” you say, laughing a bit nervously. “We can’t leave the tree up forever, can we?”

“We certainly can,” Nanako starts with a frown, “What’s stopping us? The pressure from society to conform to its trends?”

You barely manage to stop your eyes from rolling. You loved that Suguru was honest and open with the girls about what he does and who he is, but Nanako was definitely picking up some preconceived notions from hanging around Suguru’s literal cult all the time. Perhaps you’d have to talk to your boyfriend about it.

“Nana, sweetie, I love you-”

“Clearly you don’t if you won’t let me keep the tree up!” “What’s going on in here?”

A smooth, deep voice cuts through your conversation (argument?) with Nanako and Mimiko, and you feel a wave of relief crash over you. Surely, your lovely boyfriend would talk some sense into the girls (primarily Nanako).

“Suguru! The girls and I were just discussing taking the Christmas decorations down.”

Oblivious to Nanako’s scowl, he smiles softly at you. “What a good idea! We can do it as a family, hm? I could use a family day after the meetings I just had.”

“We’re not taking it down,” Mimiko mutters, eyes flickering between you and Suguru. “It’s too early.”

“Yeah, it’s way too early! We need to leave them up waaaaay longer. We did so much work to put them up, we can’t just take them down now!” Nanako whines out, doing her best puppy dog eyes at her father.

“You two,” you sigh, massaging your brow. “We can do it all again next year, but we seriously need to start taking these down, it’s getting a little late to still have our decorations up-”

“We can leave them up.”

Your head snaps to look at your boyfriend, mouth agape. “What?”

“I mean…” he says, looking anywhere but your face. “They seem really excited about it, you know? It can’t hurt to keep them up a bit longer…”

You should’ve known he would succumb to their puppy dog eyes, the bastard. “Suguru Geto, it’s the middle of January. We absolutely cannot keep them up much longer, the neighbors are starting to give me weird looks-”

“Who cares what the neighbors think?” he says, pulling you towards the couch. “C’mon, how about family movie night instead? We can take the tree down another day, hm?”

You know you shouldn’t let the girls win this one. You know it, and yet you let yourself get led to the couch anyways. Some 1980’s chick flick is put on, and you all settle in, curled into each other. You think you catch Meg Ryan out of the corner of your eye, but you’re more busy looking at your family, all together at this moment.

The tree can stay up another day, you decide. You could handle a couple of judgy stares from the neighbors - because you wouldn’t trade moments like these for the world.

Nanami Kento

Nanami didn’t necessarily celebrate Christmas when he was on his own. It felt like a lot of work to put up a tree and decorate it if he was barely going to be home anyways.

After his return to jujutsu, Gojo tries endlessly to try and drag him to the yearly Christmas work party to no avail. Especially after you enter the picture. Gojo wants nothing more than to tell you embarrassing stories about your lover.

But now he has you, and the little pink-haired menace that is Itadori Yuuji. You two had inserted yourselves into his life when he thought he needed solitude the most, and he couldn’t be more grateful.

Christmas, which had once come and gone, became something tangible. It meant endless hours of baking and decorating cookies, and time spent together, as a family. Yuuji wasn’t technically his son, but he was certainly a part of your little family (the gifts under the tree for him spoke for themselves).

Like Gojo, he’s oddly hesitant to take down the decorations. The memories of putting them up and celebrating Christmas with the people he treasured around them are very dear to him.

Unlike Gojo, he can picture a future with you and Yuuji. Not quite on boxing day, but before December ends, the three of you are taking down decorations together, as a family, knowing that you’ll get the chance to put them up again next year.

– – –

Despite the date being not-quite-Christmas, you had insisted on playing Christmas music as you all took Christmas decorations down. Something about it being your “last chance to listen to Christmas music!” and you needing “one last dose” of Christmas before it was gone. And any level of time spent together with you and Nanami had Yuuji bouncing off the walls, so of course he was down for Christmas music after Christmas.

Despite his slight distaste for the music, Kento couldn’t help but smile at you and Yuuji. You’re rolling the lights neatly as Yuuji unwinds them, laughing and joking as you do. He remembers when you had asked Yuuji to come over to decorate for Christmas with the two of you. He had seen the boy excited before, but there was something special about the joy he radiated as he happily agreed to come over. You’d offered him the spare room many times, and even though he “can’t” stay, his clothes soon filled the drawers and his toiletries lived in your bathroom. While there’s not necessarily a “break” from the life of being a sorcerer, Fushiguro had gone home to Gojo’s, and Kugisaki had gone home to her family for the holidays. But, with nowhere to go, Yuuji had been planning to stay at the dorms, alone. Normally Nanami would’ve asked you first, but the second he heard he invited the boy to stay - lots of empty excuses about needing more company for Christmas and not wanting to eat all of the Christmas goods yourselves. But when Yuuji came bouncing in, you already knew, giving your husband a knowing smile.

Now he was certain the house was going to feel empty, once Yuuji was gone. Ever respectful, he insisted he would be out of your hair the second the holidays were over.

“Ken, c’mere!” you call, beckoning him over. “Help Yuuji with the tree, won’t you?”

“I’ve totally got this, I’ll be fine!” Yuuji exclaims, trying to pick up the plastic tree without even taking it apart. “See?? Totally got it-”

Famous last words, of course, as he slips and thuds to the floor, the Christmas tree atop him. You and Kento both fly in, working to roll the tree off of him as quickly as possible. Of course, once he’s free, Yuuji is laughing, already re-telling the story of his “epic fall” (“it landed on me like whoosh! and I slammed against the carpet like kapow! Did you see that??”).

You sigh, glad he’s okay. “Could thank Nanami for helping you out from under it, you know.”

He flushes, stopping mid-story. “Oops, sorry! Thanks for the save, dad!”

He grins toothily before he catches his mistake, but by then, Nanami’s already tearing up. You are, too. Yuuji lost his family a long time ago. To feel safe enough, to call your husband dad? This was the best Christmas you’ve ever had, you’re certain.

And if you all end up crying? That’s nobody’s business but yours.

Sukuna Ryomen

He’s aware of the human tradition of “Christmas”, but if you think even for a second he considered celebrating it before you, you’re sorely mistaken. He’s the King of Curses, he doesn’t have time for nonsense like Christmas.

When you insert your annoying self into his life, he’s unsure on how to approach the holiday. His estate was not a place for “joy” or “being merry” (two very important things to Christmas, you had informed him), but with you here, perhaps it could be.

Very against decorations across the estate. In the privacy of certain spaces, he may allow it, but there will be no outdoor decorations or house-wide decorations. He does not want his servants to think he is getting soft for the human he’s been toting around. He will cede to some decorations, but he does not care about you and your silly human traditions.

(they already know he’s going soft for you. Any servant can see the way he looks at you, and how delicate his hands are with you. They’d be stupid not to know at this point the affection he holds for you)

He, at first, refuses to let you put up anything yourself in the approved rooms. He has servants, and he has made it very clear that they are yours to command. Why do you insist on doing it yourself?

You explain the importance of doing it yourself, even have the gall to ask him to do it with you, and he scoffs at this. He’s the King of Curses, he doesn’t have the time to

Later, you will find him reading on Christmas traditions and decorations. When you catch him, he will refuse to acknowledge it, but the way he won’t quite make eye contact with you says all you need to know.

Once Christmas is over, decorations are down and boxed immediately. He instructs the servants the night before to take them down, and by the time you wake, the decorations are gone.

With all of this Christmas decorating and celebrating, Sukuna has barely had a proper moment alone with you. Now that it’s over, expect him to be the closest to “clingy” that you will ever see him.

– – –

It’s early morning, December 26th, and Sukuna could not be more glad that this “Christmas” thing was over. You had become consumed by it, and despite finding some sort of amusement in the way you bounced around all excited and glowy, he was sick of it. You talked on and on about what he had to do with you, and while he indulged you on some of them, he was not fond of being bossed around. You had also mentioned another man, whom you referred to as “Santa” - you had assured Sukuna he wasn’t real, but Sukuna didn’t like the way another man’s name was so easily rolling off your tongue - who brought gifts to children in their homes. You had made an attempt to put up a little “Santa” figurine on the mantle, but found him in pieces (and in the trash) hours later. Sukuna would not allow another man you spoke so highly of to taint his space.

You shift slightly, and he looks down at your sleeping face where it lay against him. You looked utterly ridiculous - your face was smushed against him, your hair was tousled, and you were lightly snoring - but for some reason Sukuna couldn’t tear his eyes from your form. He could hear the servants shuffling around in the other rooms on the estate, taking down the eyesores that you had put up all over the house. While he had instructed them to take everything Christmas-related down across the estate, they also had very specific instructions to never enter his chambers without explicit permission from him. This meant that his chambers were still a little Christmas bubble, the tree you had put up in the corner still standing tall.

When you first tried to get him to put a tree up in his chambers, he had refused. You could put a tree in the approved rooms, he had reminded you, and his chambers were very explicitly off limits. You had frowned, saying something about needing a “personal” tree that you could decorate yourself and keep presents “safe” under it. He informed you that anything you left under the other trees would also be safe, as this was his estate, and no one would touch anything without his permission, but you had just thrown your hands up.

“It’s about the principle, Ryo!”

“Brat, be grateful I’m letting you put up any trees at all. I could call off this whole ‘Christmas’ nonsense whenever I want, so watch your mouth.”

He sighed. He doesn’t know how you managed, but you had eventually wore him down. A sparkling tree sits in the corner of his chambers now, glowing softly. Once you had risen and started to go about your day he was going to take it down, he resolved. Whatever weird feelings were bubbling in his chest were the fault of this Christmas rampage you had gone on, and nothing else. Once his estate was cleaned of the Christmas blight you had cast upon it, his chest would return to normal, he was certain.

But for now, as the Christmas lights shining from the tree glowed behind your sleeping form, the feelings would remain. He felt himself melt into you, and ran a gentle hand through your hair. His eyes flick to the ceiling before drifting closed again. He sighs, and pulls you a little further into him. Softly, so softly that even the wind barely catches it, he murmurs to you.

“Merry Christmas, brat.”

Fushiguro Toji (ft. Tsumiki and Megumi)

You think this man has ever owned a house? Jokes on you honey, he’s never had that kind of money (or that good of credit).

Subsequently, there’s nowhere to decorate outside, really. Other than the apartment door, but that's too much work for Toji, so any Christmas decorations he might have are inside the walls of his apartment.

He’s boring, but surprisingly your biggest opp in Christmas decoration is little Megumi. Tsumiki is an angel as always and goes along with whatever Christmas shenanigans, but Megumi doesn’t want even a hint of Christmas in the house.

The most you get is a Christmas tree in the corner of the living room, which was all Toji was willing to do before you, anyways. As much as he pretends he doesn’t, he’s always loved his kids, and keeps a plastic tree and a small box of ornaments (which is mostly comprised of the ones Tsumiki and Megumi has to make at school) shoved in the corner of his closet for this time of year. He may have been a shitty father, but he cared, in his own way.

When Megumi is little, that tree is down on December 26th, shoved back in the corner of Toji’s closet. Christmas is dumb, and so is anything that reminds him of it.

But now, with warmer memories surrounding it, the tree might take a couple more days to find itself back in the closet. It’s definitely down within the week (Megumi can only handle being sappy for so long), but maybe Christmas isn’t so bad with you around.

And (even though he won’t say it), Toji feels the same way - you see it in the mistletoe that now hangs in the entryway between the kitchen and living room, in the way his eyes find yours as you all decorate gingerbread houses together, in the way he’s just a little sweeter when Christmas comes around. You’re the best present he’s ever gotten, and the only one he needs, this Christmas and every Christmas in the future.

The actual act of taking stuff down, though? With four (mostly) grown bodies shoving around in a tiny apartment, it’s a lot more hectic than you’d like it to be. Someone always ends up minorly hurt every year in the clean-up process. It’s inevitable, and you’re considering making a Christmas scrapbook of all the injuries you all have gotten over the years.

(your personal favorite will always be when Toji yanked on the lights impatiently and the whole tree came down on him. You can still see Tsumiki’s wide eyes and hear little toddler Megumi’s laughter as Toji grumbled about “stupid tree” this and “damn lights” that. He was fine, but his ego was not)

– – –

“Shit-”

You spin around at the gruff swear from your husband, about to scold him for swearing in front of the kids, when you’re met with a facefull of Toji. His chest slams into your face, and you both go down. He barely manages to catch himself over you (if he hadn’t, you’re certain you would’ve been flattened under his weight). Your head smacks into the carpet and you groan, squeezing your eyes shut to battle the throbbing pain in your head.

“Dad, what the hell-”

“Are you two okay??”

Two overlapping voices come from above you, but you don’t think you can open your eyes. You haphazardly throw up a thumbs up, just to blindly whack your husband in the face.

“Ow, doll, Jesus Christ. Watch your hand, won’t you?” Toji gruffs out, but one of his hands is already moving to cradle your head, gently touching around it. He doesn’t feel any blood, and he lets out a sigh of relief. He didn’t really feel like making a trip to the emergency room a couple days after Christmas, especially for something this embarrassing. He’s sure they’ve had enough Christmas-related injuries from the idiots who go out and party, anyways.

“Get off of them, you oaf.” Megumi says, shoving his father off of you. Toji rolls off of you, letting Megumi shove him aside. That kid always liked you more than him, even if you weren’t related by blood.

He lets the kids fuss over you and goes into the kitchen to grab you an ice pack for your head. At worst it’s a concussion, but he’s hoping it’ll just be a bump. Not his fault that Tsumiki got distracted midway through taking the lights of the tree and left them hanging haphazardly. And yeah, maybe it was his fault that he wasn’t looking where he was going and got his feet tangled in the lights. But Megumi was complaining about them still having all of the ornaments he made as a kid, and Toji had to make sure that brat wasn’t throwing any of them away. So yeah, maybe his eyes weren’t on the floor. But in his defense, the lights were only supposed to be in two places - the box, or on the tree.

Grumbling, he makes his way back to the living room, where you’re now situated on the couch. Christmas teardown long forgotten, Tsumiki is asking you questions and holding fingers in front of your face. Megumi is standing broodily to the side. His arms crossed, as if he doesn’t care, but his eyes are watching you with rapt attention.

“For your head, doll.” Toji says, passing you the ice pack. You accept it gratefully, cradling it to where your head smacked into the floor. Your bleary eyes meet his, and you can see the glow of worry hiding behind them. You offer him a weak smile, hoping it’ll ease at least some of his worries.

“I knew I was gorgeous, but you didn’t have to literally fall for me, you know,” you joke, eyes sparkling. There’s a distinct “Ew!” from Megumi as Toji leans down to plant a kiss on your lips, rolling his eyes at your nonsense.

“Merry Christmas, doll.”

“Merry Christmas, Toji.”

And if the half-taken down tree stays up for a day or so more, Megumi doesn’t say a word.

Ieiri Shoko

Shoko has no intention of owning a house, ever. Her apartment has always been more than enough space for her, and being the only sorcerer with her abilities, she works crazy hours, anyways. She wouldn’t have the time to take care of a whole house.

Even with you in her life, she’s still home at odd hours. She tries harder now, to be home more often, but there’s only so much that’s in her control. You’ve woken up many nights to her crawling out of bed and throwing on her coat to get to Jujutsu Tech.

It sucks and she knows it, but both of you know it’s always going to be her reality unless she leaves jujutsu. And both of you know that, at this point, she isn’t going anywhere.

Your Christmas decorations are very sparing. A wreath on the outside of your door, a small tree in the corner of the living room, and perhaps a wintry candle burning. Your apartment isn’t really well-lived in, but you two try to make it as cozy as possible.

Christmas decorations could stay up year round, honestly. She barely cares to put them up, taking them down is way more work than she wants to go through. The wreath is notoriously on the door until mid-February. It’s a miracle if it’s gone by Valentine’s Day.

Things get taken down, piece by piece, until all of it is gone. Unlike most people, it’s not a day that you two do it, but over the course of the rest of December and January.

(The door wreath always gets forgotten because by the time post-Christmas rolls around you’re both used to it and forget it’s even there)

By the first of the new year, the lights and ornaments are off the tree, and all of the Christmas cookies (that you stole from Gojo’s stash) are eaten. At some point, the tree goes down. Eventually, the candle’s been burnt to the end of the wick, and it’s replaced with something more flowery. Any sign of Christmas and the holidays slowly fades away.

Until one of you remembers the wreath, of course!

– – –

A gentle buzzing shakes Shoko from her lunch. She’s rarely aware of what time of day it is in the hellscape that is the basement of Jujutsu Tech; but Gojo, in a rare moment of kindness, had visited her with lunch in his hands. He was blabbering on and on about something nonsensical, as always, but she was grateful for the break. As much as he acted like an idiot, Gojo was anything but - he knew the conversation he was holding was one-sided. He’d act all offended later, she was sure (what a headache), but her little noncommittal “yeah”s and “mhm”s would do for now.

“Ooooh, who’s calling you?” Gojo asks, wiggling his eyebrows at her. She rolls her eyes, looking down at the caller ID. Your name lights up the screen, a goofy picture of you flashing behind it. You had thrown the Christmas lights for the tree in the air over your head in excitement, and had ended up all tangled up in them. Despite being somewhat wrapped up in Christmas lights, you had a big smile on your face, laughing at your own predicament. It’s perhaps one of her favorite pictures of you.

Before she can answer it herself, Gojo snatches her phone from her hand, and answers it himself. “Helloooo, Ms. Shoko Ieiri speaking. How may I be of doctor-ly assistance to you?”

She can hear you snort on the other end of the phone, clearly amused.

“Hi, Gojo. How’re you?”

He gasps dramatically. “Gojo?? How dare you confuse me with that no good idiot-”

“Gojo,” Shoko starts, extending her hand, “give me my phone back.”

He sticks out his tongue, handing her the phone. “Boo, you two are no fun!”

She sighs, running a hand through her hair. “Hey, lovely.”

“Hey, Sho!”

“What’s up, hm? Need something?”

“Oh, nothing urgent,” you say with a laugh. “Just found something I thought you might find funny.”

“Yeah?” she says, smiling. “And what’s that?”

“Do you know what the date is?” you ask, and she hears a bit of shuffling on the other end of the phone. You’re clearly on the move as you call her.

“Uhm…” her eyes drift to the childish cat calendar Gojo had hung in her office. He had insisted it would “boost morale”, but mostly it had been an eyesore. “February something-th, I’m sure.”

“Yeah!” you exclaim. “It’s February, Sho.”

“I know that,” she says, though there was no real bite in her tone. “I literally just said that.”

“Oh shut up,” you say, a bit muffled on the other end of the phone. “I’m just saying it’s February. Getting awful close to being March, even.”

“February’s short, lovely, that’s not much of a feat.”

“Shhh, let me talk!! Anyways, you know what I found?”

She racks her brain, but there’s nothing that you would find in the house that would make you react like this that she could think of. “No idea, lovely. Would you like to tell me?”

“The wreath, Sho!”

“The wreath…?” she says, before recognition sweeps across her face. “Oh my god-”

“We left the wreath up!” you’re laughing so hard she’s sure you’re crying. “I- how do we forget every year-”

“We got it down by January last year!”

“Mid-January, Sho, not by January-”

“Maybe we should stop putting it up.”

“Noooo! I love having this conversation every year. Don’t you?”

She’s laughing too, even if she doesn’t want to. “Mhm, of course, lovely.”

“Anyways, you’re probably busy, so I’ll leave you be, but Merry Christmas, Sho!”

She laughs, rolling her eyes at your antics. “Merry Christmas, lovely.”

Higuruma Hiromi

Another busy fellow. Being a lawyer and a sorcerer does that to a man.

But it also means he can afford a nice house in a nice area. You’ve got decent land, and a nice big house to decorate for Christmas.

He’s a total sap, and definitely makes time to decorate the house with you. Your tree will look more like a scrapbook than a Christmas tree - covered in picture frame ornaments of the two of you and dinky little ornaments he saw that he was out that reminded him of you.

Expect Christmas/winter dates with him, too - he may be busy, but he’s bending his schedule as much as possible to take you ice skating or to decorate gingerbread houses with you.

When December 26th rolls around, he’s in the office. He overloads himself in November to clear as much of December as he can, but it’s inevitable that he ends back in the office before the month ends. He’s just glad he got to spend Christmas with you.

The decorations stay up perhaps a little too long, but you’d both rather take things down together. You don’t always get the chance to be domestic with Hiromi, so you wait. The rare moments that you do are always worth the wait.

– – –

You can hear Hiromi across the room faintly humming some Christmas tune as you gently lift the garland from the mantle. After some sort of miracle (and a little bit of string pulling), Hiromi had finally managed to land himself a day off post-Christmas. Things always get busy after Christmas - drunk idiots making post-party mistakes, kids misusing their new toys, marriages that barely manage to scrape through Christmas day at all - and he’s been on back to back cases for a couple weeks now. His eyebags have been cutting deeper into his face by the day, and you’re glad to see something like joy in his step as he weaves the lights off the Christmas tree. Once the sun reaches its peak in the sky, the two of you would bundle up and head outside to get the lights and the wreath, but for now, you could enjoy the warmth of the house for a little longer.

You drop the bundle of garland into one of the many boxes. You knew in your heart that the you of next year would look at the messy pile of garland and be incredibly pissed, but you didn’t have it in yourself to care right now. Sounded like a problem for next year you, not a problem for the you of the present. You had other decorations to take down, and boyfriends to mess with.

You take a peek at said boyfriend as you move the other Christmas knick knacks off the mantle and into the box. He’s still humming something or other, but it’s definitely a new song. He’s dancing to it, a bit, as he gently places your ornaments back in the box. He pauses, sometimes, to look more intently at the little picture frames. A picture of the two of you, at the beach a couple of summers ago. A snapshot of your trip to Paris. A polaroid of you laughing, covered in flour, that barely fits in the frame he bought for it. That one was from this year - he had insisted that you two make Christmas sugar cookies and decorate them, but when you had pulled the flour from the top shelf, it had exploded right out the bottom. It’s what you get for buying the cheap flour, perhaps, but you remember how you couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled from your throat in the moment. You don’t even remember Hiromi grabbing the camera - just the snap it made as it framed your mishap forever. You shake yourself out of your stupor and look around. You’ve cleared the mantle and the side table, all that’s left in this room minus the tree was…the mistletoe. It hung neatly between the living room and the kitchen, a little glint of green and red against the horrendous light yellow of the kitchen (the old owners had been so pleased with the color that you couldn’t bring yourself to repaint it). You went to grab it down, but even with a stretch to your tippy toes, you couldn’t quite get a grasp on it.

“Hiromi,” you call out, and he makes a noncommittal sound. “Romi, honey.”

He flicks his head over to you, huffing softly at your pout. “What is it, honey?”

You point up at the offending party, its green and red staring back at you mockingly. “Can’t get the little bastard down. Any chance you’d be willing to help me out?”

“Of course, honey,” he says, striding over to you. You expect him to pluck it off its hook himself, and squeal when his arms wrap around your waist and he lifts. You know he’s strong - hell, you’d have to be strong to do his job - but he lifted you with an ease you didn’t know was possible.

“Are you going to get that down, or do I have to hold you here forever?” he says, a teasing grin making its way to his face.

You jokingly contemplate, putting your finger to your lips to ‘think’ about it. “Hmm, I don’t know, feeling pretty comfy in your arms. Might just have to stay here forever, I fear.”

He snorts, gently bringing you back down. He reaches up and unhooks the mistletoe himself, though he hesitates to bring his arm back down.

“What is it?” you ask gently.

“One last kiss? For Christmas’ sake?”

You laugh breathlessly, knowing damn well that it’s late enough into January that this kiss isn’t for anything but him. But, as he dangles the mistletoe above your heads, you can’t help but lean in to kiss him. And if you two don’t stop, even when the mistletoe is long forgotten? Well, that’s nobody’s business but yours.

#daisy writes<3 #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #gojo x reader #geto x reader #nanami x reader #sukuna x reader #toji fushigro x reader #shoko x reader #higuruma x reader #featuring the kids in some of them (I couldn't help it)#jjk fanfic #happy holidays everyone!#higuruma hiromi: what doja cat said about noses ugh

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