#you have no idea how happy I am with this

[captain-huggy-bear]

Guard Dog

Pairing: Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Spoilers for the Washington Capitals game (Jan 2025), anger/conflict, derogatory commentary towards Reader

Summary: You are feeling particularly protective of Quinn after the game against the Washington Capitals and run into Dubois.

Notes: I was ready to throw hands at Dubois for purposefully seeking out and trying to hurt Quinn so...

Apologies to Dubois but he's now my arch nemesis and if I was actually dating Quinn I know I'd hold a grudge, sorry, I'm sure you're a great guy but...not today. Reminder that I am writing a fictional version of these people and what I do write is not representative of them in real life. Don't sue me, Dubois, this is fictional you, not real you. 👀

Also I don't think Quinn is generally violent or aggressive but I do think that if he felt someone he loved was being treated in a way that was disrespectful/aggressive, that he wouldn't avoid conflict. Protective boy in my eyes.

Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :)

Writing Masterlist

You wanted to say that you were used to watching how violent hockey could get, especially when that violence was directed at Quinn, but that would be a lie.

Watching as Quinn was practically attacked by Dubois, watching him be targeted had you gasping and jumping to your feet in an instant. The way he knocked Quinn to the ground had your heart thudding in your chest and you'd gotten to your feet instinctively like you could physically go out and defend him, like you had any ability to do something when in reality you were completely helpless, stuck behind glass.

That intense feeling of protectiveness had only increased as Quinn was pulled from the scrum by Dubois again like he was being hunted down, targeted. It grew almost unbearable, a protectiveness mixed with anger, as you watched Quinn try to keep his distance, shoving away from Dubois even as he tried to hold him close, as Quinn tried to protect himself while avoiding roughing himself, only to receive a penalty anyway. That anger grew watching the way Quinn was stuck in the penalty box, the way he was desperate, standing, wanting to get out after his 2 minutes, only to be stuck because play was ongoing for another 3 minutes.

You had never hated a player before. Players had upset you in the past, annoyance at the way they'd dealt with something or how they'd behaved towards Quinn, but you'd never seen someone so determined to hurt your boyfriend. It was that sheer targeting, the way Dubois followed Quinn, gunned for him for no reason, especially given he was still sporting a hand injury, that had you hating him immediately. It had you itching to say something, do something for the entirety of the game. You could barely concentrate on the actual game, too amped.

You couldn't help the way your leg bounced angrily the entire game, the way you bit your lip, the way your mind ran through all the things you'd like to say to Dubois about his behaviour. That feeling didn't disappear as the game ended and you waited outside the locker room for Quinn, if anything it grew from how hard you tried to suppress it. You felt a little like a ticking time bomb.

That anger boiled over the moment you saw Dubois coming down the corridor towards you after the game. Dubois was freshly washed and changed, laughing with his teammate, Roy, like he hadn't been trying to hurt your boyfriend for half the game. You tried to keep your comments to yourself, but couldn't keep the angry glare, the deep scowl, from your features as you leant against the wall, arms crossed. You knew you were giving him the evils, that if looks could kill he'd have died five times over, but you couldn't force your face into neutrality, not when you felt that buzz of anger in your chest. It was dangerous for him to target Quinn like that, it was unfair, it made you wish you were 6ft 8 and built like a brick shit house so at least you could throw a punch in Quinn's honour. Instead you had been absolutely helpless, unable to do anything but watch.

You heard it muttered, whispered, an exchange of 'what's her problem?' and 'that's Hughes' girl...', that had you almost vibrating with anger. Dubois should have left you well enough alone, should have read the room and let you cool down. He shouldn't have assumed he could mess with you in that moment. But, since when have hockey players ever missed a chance to chirp?

You watch him stride up to you, a glint in his eyes that spelled trouble and only served to push more adrenaline through your body.

"You got a problem with me?"

"Walk away." Your voice is clipped, short, an attempt to maintain a sense of decorum, to control your anger because the last thing you want is to embarrass Quinn by getting into a fight with a rival hockey player on the same night his team lost a game. The last thing you want to do is make matters worse and in the words of Marie from Aristocats 'ladies don't start fights'.

"Or what? You going to cry cause I grabbed your little boyfriend?" His sneer reminds you of every bully you've ever known your entire life. Brutish, stupid, and with a deep desire for power and control, the sort of desire that causes them to be nasty, be mean, to try to hurt people because it shows that they can. It only makes it harder for you to control your feelings, nails digging into the palms of your hands as you clench your fists tight, like that will help keep you back.

"I'm telling you to walk away because I will not be responsible for what I say or do if you don't. Walk away." It was probably comical to him, the way you stepped forward and squared off with him, a man well over 6ft tall. You were relatively small in comparison. It didn't matter to you though, all that mattered was the fact he'd gunned for Quinn, for your lovely, kind boyfriend who avoided fights at all costs and tried to always be a reasonable, decent player. Your boyfriend who tried to play clean. Your boyfriend who was still injured. Your boyfriend who was under an insane amount of pressure right now. Your boyfriend who had only just come back off of rest for his injury.

"You've got some balls on you, lady, more than Hughes does at any rate."

You're certain your eye twitches, certain you're one bite away from causes your bottom lip to bleed. Certain that you've dug half moon circles into your palms. Certain that murder doesn't seem quite that bad of a crime right now and that you could survive prison.

"Walk. Away. Now."

"So you're the man in your relationship, huh? Is Hughes your pretty princess?" It's the hateful, misogynistic attempt to demean Quinn that causes you to snap. It's his refusal to just walk away, the goading, the pushing, the way he steps closer into your personal space, leers over you in an attempt to intimidate you with his size that finally does it. But, he doesn't seem to realise that you're too angry to be intimidated, you're not really thinking about yourself, about the situation, about the fact he's twice your size. So it doesn't matter that he could break you if he wanted to. It doesn't matter that he should be scary. He's not in that moment, because you're simply too angry, vibrating with rage.

"You're a vile, disgusting human being,y'know that? He's still injured, you fucking knew that and fucking went for him? What the fuck did he do to you? You trip him, you gun for him, you then try to pull him from the scrum?! What the fuck is wrong with you?" You could each infraction off on your fingers as you move into his space and push the two of you further into the centre of the corridor.

Maybe it's how loud you are or maybe it was just good timing, but Quinn and Boeser step out of the locker room just in time to see you yelling in Dubois' face, to see the grin on his lips like he's enjoying it. It's honest to god fear, mixed with a protectiveness that he always feels for you, that has Quinn practically sprinting the short distance to you.

He's pretty sure you don't realise you're shaking with anger or how close you've gotten to Dubois, practically nose to nose, leaning up while he leans down, until his arms are wrapping around you and pulling you back against his chest. Even in his arms you're shaking with adrenaline, eyes fixated on Dubois like a look is enough to put him in the ground.

Dubois' eyes shift to him, and Quinn can't help the set of his own features, the stern glare that he directs to the other man even as he's smirking back at him. If anything the way he seems to be enjoying this makes Quinn's expression sterner.

"Keep your little plaything on a fucking leash, Hughes." The grin Dubois sends his way is toothy, predatory, the sort of grin that tells Quinn he knows what he's saying and he knows what reaction it'll get. It doesn't stop Quinn's shoulders from tensing, it doesn't stop the tightness in his chest and it certainly doesn't make it easier for him to keep his usually cool head.

"What did you just say?" It's almost whispered, low, quiet, and it makes you stop shaking in Quinn's arms because there's something deadly about it, something that tells you not to push him right now even when you're not the one it's directed at. Something that makes you still in surprise.

"I said keep your little plaything on a fucking leash."

There's a prolonged pause, one in which Quinn looks back behind him, eyes finding Boeser, a silent sort of conversation happening between them, an agreement reached.

"Brock?"

"I got her." The blonde man steps forward as Quinn turns you in his arms and pushes you gently to Brock, Boeser pulling you into his own arms and away from the other two men.

"Quinn?" You're not sure what's happening other than the fact that the fear is starting to set in. All that anger, the adrenaline that had kept you so focused on Dubois, had started to fade. It left behind a shaky sort of anxiety, as reality hit you, that this was not just a simple argument anymore.

You gasp and move back into Boeser as you watch Quinn turn back to Dubois and just as suddenly grab him by the collar of his suit jacket, slamming him back against the wall. While Quinn is shorter, he's certainly not small or weak by any stretch of the imagination and Dubois doesn't expect it as he's shoved full body into the wall behind him, his feet struggling to keep up with the harsh movement backwards.

Quinn is nose to nose with him, glaring up at him with a look you can only describe as murderous, "You ever talk about her like that again and I will break your fucking nose. You don't ever talk to her or about her like that. Do you hear me?" The interesting thing about it, is how Quinn doesn't have to yell. In fact, his voice low, but it's the edge to it, the way it feels sharp enough to cut that makes his feelings clear.

"Oh? Now you think you're a big man, what you gonna do with that hand of yours?" Dubois' eyes shift to the brace on Quinn's left hand, the one that you can see trembling under it's own grip. It upsets you, that he's hurting himself for you, that you started this, as much as part of you preens under his protection.

"My right hand is just fine, Dubois. Yours won't be if you don't back the fuck down." Maybe it's the way Quinn's eyes narrow. Maybe it's the way his teeth grind together. Maybe it's the way he shoves Dubois even harder into the wall or maybe it's something else entirely, but something seems to make Dubois realise that Quinn is serious. That Quinn has every intention of fighting for you if he has to, if the disrespect is not corrected, if Dubois doesn't back down.

Maybe Dubois simply doesn't care enough or maybe he's intimidated by Quinn because he mutters, "Whatever...", hands shoving Quinn's away from his collar, one last glare exchanged before he and Roy walk away, whispering the entire time.

You're practically shaking in Brock's arms, Brock who releases you gently once Dubois and Roy walk away, Brock who backs away to the locker room with one last look to Quinn, leaving the two of you by yourselves.

Quinn's shoulders drop, relax as he watches the two men turn the corner and disappear out of sight, before green eyes shift to you, features softening into something affectionate and gentle. A stark contrast with his expression mere moments before.

He's the one who reaches for you, stepping until he's in your personal space, hands resting on the sides of your face like he thinks you might physically be hurt.

"You okay?" His voice is soft, sweet, as his thumbs brush your cheeks, green eyes darting over your features, trying to assess how you are and if he needs to chase after Dubois and teach him a lesson or two.

Quinn will openly admit he's not a fighter nor does he want to be, but the strong surge of protectiveness in him overrides his usual aversion to violence. He'd fight anyone for you, if it meant you were respected, protected, safe. He doesn't care that Dubois gunned for him out on the ice, all he cares about is the way he got into your face out in the corridor.

"Am I okay? Are you okay? He almost took you out on the ice!" Even as you say it your voice is shaky. Quinn knows you better than he knows most people, he can hear that shake a mile off, knows that that shake is a sign you're not okay, that that shake usually comes before a break.

It's why he doesn't answer you, it's why he pulls you fully into his arms, wrapping them around you until you're chest to chest.

So he asks again, "Baby, are you okay?" Only to feel the way your body starts to shake aggressively in his arms, like your body has just caught up to the situation, like the adrenaline has fully left your system, leaving only the after effects.

His voice is soft as he mutters to you, "Oh, you really worked off instinct, huh? Just now realising you nearly fought a 6ft 2 hockey player for me?" Quinn's quick to pull you tighter against him, a full body crush, rocking you side to side as his cheek presses into your hair. His hands rub up and down your back, attempting to sooth you as the reality of it all fully kicks. As you realise how stupid it was of you to do that, how scary the situation actually was, how you should have just walked away.

"Fuck...did I just really do that?" Your voice is shaky, almost wet, like you might start crying.

"Uh huh...yeah, you did, baby." His voice is almost amused, sympathetic, now the worst of it is over Quinn can't help but find your actions endearing. The way that you, of all people, decided you'd go toe to toe with a massive hockey player on his behalf.

"Fuck." You press your forehead against his chest, letting out a shaky breath as he rocks you from side to side. You don't regret it, not really. You'd defend Quinn to the death, you love him and that meant protecting him, just like he'd protect you. But, you have to admit, it wasn't perhaps your smartest idea or your finest moment.

"It was kind of hot, baby, but please don't do that again. I nearly had a heart attack seeing you nose to nose with him." Quinn's actually certain his heart stopped when he walked out of the locker room. You'd seemed so...fragile in comparison to Dubois and while he knew you, knew you weren't weak, it had scared him. The idea of you getting hurt was one of his nightmares, even more so you getting hurt because of him.

You pull back as far as he'll let you which really isn't very far, tilting your head back to look at him, "You nearly fought him for me..." your voice is almost disbelieving like you can't understand why he'd step in like that for you, his girlfriend.

"Yeah, I did.." Quinn's smile is soft, loving, eyes crinkling at the corners as you practically gape at him.

"But you don't fight." You look so confused that it almost breaks his heart because who taught you that you were unworthy of protection, who taught you that the people who love you wouldn't step in when needed?

"I'd fight for you. Any day. Any week. Any time. I'll always fight for you, baby. You're my girl." He says it like it's just a fact of life. Like 2 +2 = 4 or that water is wet. He says it like it is the most natural thing to exist.

"But...you don't like to fight." He hates fighting, you know because whenever he gets in one on the ice or has to break one up, he complains when he gets home. You know because everything about Quinn is gentle and soft, always slow to anger and quick to find a diplomatic solution.

"Yeah, I know." Quinn smiles at you amused, "But I love you and if the choice is between protecting you or not fighting, I'm always going to pick you. That's what you do when you love someone. You'd protect me, right?"

"Of course." You don't even hesitate because it's like breathing, that instinct to look after him because you love him because he's your person.

"Then there's your answer, sweet girl" He watches the way you nod like it is starting click, like it makes sense. His hands brush cross your shoulders, tugging you into his side, twisting so his arm is slung over your shoulders. Your shaking has long since stopped and whatever anger both of you felt has since faded under the sweetness of realising you're both loved, both protected.

"You wanna go back to the hotel? Enough excitement for one night, huh?"

"Mmm, yeah...You're okay though, right? Your hand?" You shift under his arm, eyes looking to his left hand and the brace there, watch the way he flexes his fingers as if to remind himself he can.

"I'm okay, baby, especially knowing I have you to fight my battles for me." Quinn kisses the crown of your head, the scent of your shampoo filling his nose as he pulls you tighter to his side.

In that moment the hotel room sounds great, home would sound even better, but you think home might actually just be Quinn and wherever he is.

[aninipanin1]

Some ideas for Manager are them accidentally getting hit with an off course ball, learning how to play football so they can help out a bit or perhaps, for old manager (but ig young manager could work too), them having used to play football before and having the world five/the coaches help them brush up on their rusty skills so they can help the boys with overtime practice, perhaps?

Sorry, I can't say I have any more ideas beyond this

KICKED TO THE HEAD

Notes: This req is lowkey so cute! I chose young manager instead if youre fine with it hehehe, but I will try to make another one to answer the other two req because I lowkey like them.

"Hmm, next on my to-do list is to check up on each stratum. Hmm, since the closest to where I am is the German Stratum, I'll head there first!"

You found yourself skipping away to where the training field was, where you know the players were currently training. It was a not-so regular day in the Blue Lock Facility due to the fact that the continuation of the Neo-Egoist League matches will be held in 3 days time.

Hence, all players, masters and even staff were busy, slaving away in their training or jobs. You decided to just give a small peek to each stratum, wanting to ask anyone if all are alright and well-taken cared off.

As the manager, you always found yourself feeling unsatisfied if even one of the players are not very comfortable with whatever it is that is under the guise of your job. Their cleats are a bit too uncomfortable? Your bad, you didn't pick the right cleats for them! Was the bedsheets a bit itchy? Oops, you did not di your job well to make it clean and spotless.

Sure, it was a lot of pressure, but you liked it. It made you feel useful, made you feel motivated, made you smile. Were you a masochist? Maybe, but if its for the betterment of the players, you were ready to do it. After all, the Blue Lockers, Ego and Anri were not the only ones dreaming for Japan to win the World Cup.

Putting your hair in a comfortable hairstyle, you entered the training field where you can see the Bastard Munchen players were running around the field, doing simulations and other strategical work that you could not help but be impressed with.

'Wow...the places where the players are are so fitting for their playstyles! That's Bastard Munchen for you! Very logical!'

A smile was on your face as your eyes followed where the ball was passed from player to player. Watching matches, practice or not, is always entertaining for you. The cogs in your mind spinning and turning, trying to connect and make sense with all the details and information your eyes can take in.

It always feels entertaining and freeing to do this. To spectate, to watch each player. Like you were the audience of an orchestra or a mastermind behind the pieces of a chessboard. Everything and everyone felt like they were within arm's reach, like you were a puppeteer choosing not to move the strings and instead, let your dolls move themselves.

But, you know that if you so much as wish to affect the game, you can.

"Do you see anything, Y/n?"

Almost jumping due to the shock, you turned to face the French master, Noel Noa, who looked at you curiously. You have been quite close with the master strikers in the facility, especially Noel Noa, who seemed to be quite fond of you, too, finding your nature and aura quite adorable. Maybe it was because you were quite young and still naive, or maybe it was because you were always so happy and excited to learn more about the sport, he did not know.

But, what he does know is you were a very precious kid he would like to take under his wing.

"Um, its just the usual I see, Noa-san. Nothing too big! Maybe its because its just practice..?"

You tilted your head, looking down on your notebook that had many doodles and notes you made throughout the week. There were doodles of the players and what they need to improve on. And well, you were more than happy to add more to the things you already totted down.

However, due to this, you did not really see the missed shot Kaiser did, while he trained his infamous Kaiser Impact again and again. Nor did you hear the shouts of some of the players about the incoming ball, or hell, even the shwip sound of the ball as it rushed through the air and went to where your head was.

So, to your surprise, when you find yourself blacking out for a second due to a hard force impacting on your forehead, that it made you sit on the floor. It hurt, yes, and you can feel the blood dripping from your nose, but the most dominant reaction you can feel is shock.

Meanwhile, the rest of the players, were not as calm as you were.

"Oi, Kaiser, you bastard! I'm gonna punt you!" Isagi shouted from the other side of the field as he stood up, ready to fight the German striker.

"Y/n-chan!! Are you okay?!" Hiori and Ness were the first ones to run to where you are, worried about your dazed expression.

"Kaiser. Laps around the field." Noa's eyes were slanted like a hawk, as he kneeled beside you, patting your head softly to comfort you a bit.

Kaiser, on the other hand, was the most petrified of all. He knows how much force his kick had, from experience and, of course, his own knowledge of his strength. And he was very much worried and shocked, blinking his blue eyes like he saw something very traumatising.

He didn't mean to. He knows he did nof. But that did not make him feel less bad. Especially since he hurt you of all people. The only person who was not rude to him, but also did not patronise him like a certain someone (ahem, Ness), even if he acted like a douche to you in the beginning of the Neo-Egoist League.

And also the fact that you weren't like him and the other players, who were used to receiving any loose ball that had hard and forceful impacts. But even then, he couldn't move fast enough to be the first one to make sure you were okay.

"Y/n-chan, where are you right now? What team and stratum are you in?" Yukimiya also was beside you, asking questions to make sure you didn't have a concussion or any brain damage. Thankfully, you answered all his questions quite well, and you didn't seem to be hurt at all. Just shocked and a bit sore from the impact, but nothing major.

"I'm fine, everyone. I wasn't just paying attention. Sorry, everyone. Sorry, Kaiser-"

"Why the fuck are you the one apologising? You were the one hurt!" Kaiser said out of nowhere, holding your shoulder as you blinked at the mini outburst he had. The blonde-haired man was panting, although not too heavily, it was still noticeable that he was heaving due to the rise and fall of his chest and shoulders.

At first, you thought it was because of the practice, but the worried look beneath the usual nonchalance in his eyes told you otherwise.

"U-uh...sorry- um no wait- I meant, its just because you got blamed for all of it when it was an accident and now you're in trouble."

"I don't give a crap about that. Just...just go to the damn clinic...make sure...you're not having a concussion or whatever."

Like a drunkard being poured cold water, Kaiser realized that you two were not the only people in the field, and that many eyes were watching. So, he retracted his arms and turned around, trying his best to hide the confusing mixture of worry and self-disappointment as he walked back to the field.

"Are you sure you're okay, Y/n-chan?" Isagi asked as he sat beside you, Kurona sitting on your other side ontop of the clinic bed as some of the Bastard Munchen players stood infront of you, also wanting to make sure you were okay.

"Yeah, I'm fine. This is nothing."

"If you say so, but if you feel dizzy or just if anything is wrong, tell us immediately." Yukimiya said he held the ice pack to where the ball hit, while you wiped the excess blood from your nose.

"Yeah, yeah! Its bad to hold back what you're feeling." Kurona added, while Hiori was just quiet as he gave you your stuff, placing it on the desk beside the bed.

Meanwhile, Kaiser and Ness also stood beside you, Ness, along the worried ones as he patted your head softly, hopeful that it might help in some way, shape or form. Meanwhile, Kaiser and Isagi were already starting to argue, Isagi telling Kaiser to becareful next time and Kaiser being on the defensive as the two threw roast upon roast against each other.

"Your blindass is so rich, you can't even buy sports glasses? Even Yukimiya is responsible enough to do that!"

"Oh, please. I'm blind? You're fucking senseless."

The rest of players, well except for Ness who was fully supporting and backing up Kaiser, just watched with done and dotted eyes.

"Jesus, they never shut up, huh?" Hiori rolled his eyes.

"Yeah. Theyre too, too intense sometimes." Kurona added as finally, Yukimiya sighed and gave his polite smile.

"I think thats enough for today, you two. Y/n-chan needs her peace and quiet to recover."

ADDITIONAL TIME!

BARCHA

"Bachira!! We can't!!" Kitsunezato said as he tried to stop the said striker from walking out.

"Yeah, you know that Lavinho-san won't like it." Hayate added, but Bachira was far from listening.

"NO! I need to see if Y/n-chan's okay!! I'll beat that German up the next time I see him!!"

"Please, don't- C'mon Otoya! Help us out here!" But, unfortunately for them, Otoya was somewhat agreeing to what the brown and blonde haired striker was saying and Kitsunezato sensing this, immediately prayed to whatever god there was, and even better plead to Otoya, himself.

"Oh god, please don't! We have enough with Bachira here! It was an accident!"

"But there is no accident when it comes to Y/n-chan being hurt!!" Bachira fought back.

"I agree-"

"Shut the hell up, Otoya!"

MANSHINE CITY

"WHAT?! Is she okay?!" Reo panicked when he heard the news.

"I swear, its always those from Bastard. What the hell is even happening in that stratum?" Chigiri said with annoyance and worry. Why does chaos always happen in that stratum he wondered.

"Y/n-chan...is she better now?" Nagi, commented from his bed, eyes abnormally wide, like a cat roused from its sleep by a predator.

"Yeah, I heard she's fine. She didn't have any serious concussion anything, which is lucky for all of us! She just needs to rest earlier today, but she will still be able to do her duties tomorrow!" The red-haired said, repeating what he heard from Isagi.

"Good. I kind of feel bad but happy at the same time. I want her to rest, but at the same time I want her to keep working so we can see her again tomorrow." Reo admitted, his back plopping on his bed, purple eyes looking up at the ceiling lights.

"I don't want Y/n-chan to be replaced as our manager, ever..."

"I don't think anyone in here wants that to happen at all, Nagi."

UBERS

"I should've kicked a ball straight to that Kaiser's face when I had the chance."

"That is a red card, Barou, but I don't even think I would stop you. Go wild." Niko sighed. The Ubers players just heard of the news and most of them were not happu with what they heard.

"Poor Y/n-chan, that has to hurt. I remember the first time I got hit on the face, and I'm a defender so I'm used to that! But she isn't even a player." Oliver said, cringing at the thought of being hit by a ball, much less from someone of Kaiser's calibre.

"Damn straight! And those useless peasants couldn't even protect her from those guys. Those damn donkeys." Barou said, his mind towards a specific raven-haired striker that he knew was not only his main rival, but also the main rival of Kaiser and hence why, he believed he was the most responsible for you not managing to avoid the ball in time.

PXG

"Charles! We're training that new move we're planning to make it better and make it hurt for our match with those Germans!" Shidou said, clearly pissed off at the news. The French midfielder only nodded his head, cheering along with the pink-haired striker.

"Fucking lukewarms, you should do it secretly not infront of the many cameras around this damned facility." Rin rolled his eyes, even he wasn't impressed when he heard that you got injured, much less bleeding!

"For the first time, you didn't say anything dumb, Rin-rin. You heard him Charles! We're going to meet up with that German bastard!"

"Yay! Yay! We're gonna avenge Y/n!"

But unfortunately for them, and fortunately for everyone else, Karasu was there to stop the two, holding the scruff of their uniforms immediately.

"Now, now. As much as I also want to square up on that guy, we can't go monster against his ass or do you wanna be electrocuted again, Shidou?"

The blonde and pink haired striker blinked at that and finally shrugged.

"We'll just have to beat them in the upcoming games. So, ya'll better train hard." Karasu said with finality as he headed to his room with the other Blue Lock players, and that idea did not sound bad at all in Rin, Shidou and even Charles' ears.

I hope you guys liked this one! This was supposed to be fun but it turned into some sort of twisted Kaiser angst piece lolol

Blue Lock is WRITTEN by Kaneshiro Muneyuki and ILLUSTRATED by Nomura Yusuke. All credits to the both of them.

[thekoalapastriesbakery]

BUZZED!

formula one x male!reader

request: Okay okay, here me out, Male!reader gets a buzzcut and the drivers find out via like instagram or something and they get really whiny abt it.

summary: you get a buzz cut without telling your boyfriend

warnings: initial instagram post is just for reference + reader only posts whichever one applies to you most!, swearing, playful arguing

contains: alex albon, lance stroll, + lewis hamilton

youruser has added to their story!

written: time for a change ✂️

alex albon:

"WHAT DID YOU DOOOOOOOO?" alex yelped as soon as he walked through the door of your shared apartment.

you had just been lounging on the sofa, scrolling through social media to pass the time. you jumped slightly at your boyfriend's shouting. "what? what did i do?"

alex rounded the corner into the living room and pointed at your hair with a pout.

"that! what did you?!"

"alex, i just cut my hair." you chuckled, staying slumped on the sofa.

alex whined. "how could you do this to me???"

"you're so dramatic, oh my fucking god." you rolled your eyes lightheartedly. as much as you loved your boyfriend, he sure knew how to be dramatic. "it's not that bad?"

"yes it is!" alex insisted. "what am i supposed to do now when i want your attention?!"

"ask for it like a normal person?"

"it's like you don't even know me." alex huffed, flopping down on the sofa beside you.

you laughed quietly and put your phone away. "it will grow back, y'know?"

your boyfriend tilted his head to look at you with a a pout. "and what am i supposed to do until then?"

"cope?"

he whined again and poked you in the ribs, making you squirm slightly. "you're so mean."

"yeah, well, it's not getting reattached," you argued. alex ran his hand over the shaved hair with a sigh. "better get used to it, baby."

"fine ... but never again, okay?"

"no promises."

lance stroll:

the second you walked into your boyfriend's hotel room, he was right in front of you. lance crossed his arms and pouted at you.

"uh-oh," you murmured.

a sheepish smile crossed your lips. you tentatively stepped forward until you were close enough to pull lance into a hug, which you were very pleased to say he didn't reject. hopefully that meant he wasn't too upset.

"why did you have to get a buzz cut?" lance whined, pushing your shoulder.

you hummed. the truth of it was that the haircut had been an impulsive action rather than a conscious decision, but ... well, it was done now. "it's just hair, baby."

"no, it's not," lance argued with a pout. "it's your hair. which you let me play with and wash and put bows in and stuff."

"yeah, i hope you understand i would literally never let anybody else touch my hair as much as you do," you pointed out. was a part of you hoping to distract lance with a sweet statement? perhaps. but he didn't need to know that.

lance paused for a moment. he seemed torn between being sad and whiny about your hair, and being happy about what you said. sue him. he liked to feel special. "... then why did you cut it?"

"because i wanted to?" you shrugged. your hands dropped to lance's waist and tugged him closer, making him squeak quietly. "it's summer and it's hot and i don't need a fur coat on my head?"

"but what about the bows?" lance pouted at you.

a little grin tugged at your lips. "well, i can put them in your hair?"

your boyfriend seemed to short circuit at the idea of you putting bows in his hair. his lips parted in surprise, before his expression morphed into a goofy grin. "okay."

lewis hamilton:

the first reaction you got from lewis about your haircut was a text. he must've already been close to home, but apparently he felt the need to freak out about you getting a buzz cut as early as possible.

you cut your hair?

... yes?

it hadn't taken you long to reply. a minute at most. evidently, that was long enough for your boyfriend to get to your door. he flung it open, a dramatic frown on his face. "why?"

"hello to you too," you muttered, standing up to greet your boyfriend with a kiss. "because it was getting in my eyes, lew."

"so?" lewis raised an eyebrow at you.

you scoffed playfully, thinking he was just having a joke and not being serious. "so i couldn't see."

"so?" lewis repeated.

not joking, apparently.

"i can see?" he poked at the now-short strands with a wary expression. "i'd lead you places??"

"lewis."

your boyfriend pouted. he let out a dramatic sigh and turned away from you. "fine, i guess you like your vision more than you love me, then."

knowing he was just milking it, you wrapped your arms around lewis from behind and kissed his temple cheekily. "yes! glad you understand."

"... brat."

"love you too, lew."

©thekoalapastriesbakery :: please do not copy or rewrite my work on any platform !!

author's note: anon i am SO hearing you out (can you guys tell i love whiny boys yet)

comments + reblogs appreciated!

taglist: @raizelchrysanderoctavius @crispysoup318 @op-81-lvr-reblogs @ncrsbrg @spoonfulofmilo @justaf1girl @widow-cevans

[wandanatrules]

fic idea (sorry if this is bad, I'm using the translator because English is not my native language)

Wanda or Natasha (maybe both if you can) wanted to have a child with the reader, but then they got divorced and the reader was pregnant, the reader complained by calling saying that she was going to take Wanda/Nat to court for refusing to pay child support, until the reader decided to go to her house and got pregnant again.

Fool Me Once

Hi guys! I really liked this request, because I had been wanting to write something with divorced Nat. I hope that this does this justice. I feel bad for Wanda in this, so my next fic I am hoping to do something with wanda x nat. Please continue to send requests! And as usual I didn’t feel like proofreading it :(

(this is not my gif)

word count: 2.5k

paring: g!p beefy nat x divorced fem reader

warnings: natasha has a penis, infidelity, pretty angsty, arguing, foul language, cursing, name calling, smut, voyuerism, penetration, cunnilingus, (let me know if I missed anything!).

“Oh baby you are taking me so good, if you keep moving your hips like that I’m gonna blow. But I bet you want me to breed your tight hole. Is that right?”

”Yes please, Natasha I want to have your babies I need your seed so bad!”

4 years later…

 “Natasha, this is the last time I'm leaving you a message! I have tried to be civil but you leave me no choice! Not visiting your daughter for 5 months or paying any child support isn’t gonna cut it anymore. Since you refuse to care for your child I will see you in court!”, You said after hanging up the phone and frustratingly throwing it onto the couch.

The noise startled your 3 year old daughter and she came into the room to see what happened. “Mommy are you okay? Was that mama, is she coming back to us soon?”

”Yes everything is okay baby. It’s okay I miss mama too, we are gonna see her soon.” You said kneeling down to her eye level and plastering a fake smile on your face to reassure her. 

Two weeks later it was the day of the court hearing and the first time you had seen Natasha since you had found her with Wanda, 5 months ago.

When you first started dating Natasha, she insisted that you quit your job and become her housewife. Since she was a CEO of a multimillion dollar company there was really no need for you to work and considering you thought that she was going to be your forever you took her up on the offer. But now that you were a single mother with no support system and very little money for childcare, it was hard for you to keep a stable job and provide for your child. 

Natasha on the other hand was doing very good for herself. According to her facebook, that you definitely didn’t stalk, her and Wanda expecting a child together. How could she do this to you, I mean the divorce was yet to even be finalized. Her business was booming and she had bought a new house for her new girl and their child to be. 

“Mama! I missed you!”, Your daughter said escaping your arms to run into the arms of your ex lover.

Not wanting to soil your daughter’s opinion of her mother, you told her that she was on an important trip and she was too busy to talk on the phone. 

“Why hello there babygirl I missed you so much! You got so tall honey!”, She said while picking her up and twirling her around. 

“Mommy look mama is back, aren’t you so happy!”, Your daughter said beckoning you over to greet your ex.

“Hello, y/n you look well.”, She said with that godforsaken smirk. The same smirk that got you pregnant. You couldn’t lie she looked great in the pant suit she was wearing, you always loved her in her dominating attire. 

“Natasha”, You said with a curt head nod, “As do you.” 

“Come on baby, you can sit with my friend Wanda, while me and mommy go inside and have a long talk.” Natasha said before you seethingly saw her walk your child across the courthouse to the bench that Wanda was patiently sitting at. 

“After taking all of the information presented today into consideration, I have my verdict. I rule that the defendant, Mrs. Natasha Romanoff, is ordered to pay the plaintiff, Mrs. Y/N Romanoff, at least $600 a month and is required to have the child in her custody at least every other weekend starting today. This is a temporary verdict that will be re-examined for permanency when the divorce is finalized.

 “Okay honey, are you excited to have a sleepover with mama this weekend?”, Natasha said, holding your daughter in her arms.

 “Are we finally going back to our old house? Can I sleep in bed with you and mommy again?” Your daughter said excitedly, with eyes full of hope.

 “No baby for now on me and mama aren’t going to be living together anymore. You are gonna be with only one of us at a time, but it’s okay because we love you so much. We are gonna go home and pack you a bag so that I can drop you off with mama and her friend Wanda for the weekend later tonight.” 

Knock Knock Knock…

It was two hours later when you arrived at Natasha’s new house for the first time. Your daughter fell asleep in the car, so you carefully grabbed her and her stuff before walking up the driveway of the huge house and knocking on the door.

 “Hey y/n.”, Natasha said after opening up the door. She was wearing a white wife beater that showcased her broad shoulders and the pump in her biceps, indicated that she had just finished working out. You looked down and bit your lip when your eyes captured her built veiny quads in the shortest gym shorts you have ever seen in your life. 

“Here she’s sleeping, hopefully for another hour or so.”, You said while carefully handing her over. 

“Okay stay here for a second, i’ll take her and her stuff to her room, but I need to talk to you. You can sit over here.” She said pointing to the couch. 

You sat down wondering what she could possibly have to say to you after all the hurt she has caused you. 

“So where is your baby mama?”, You asked as she returned down the stairs.

”She is staying with her parents for the weekend. I didn’t want to confuse our daughter. But I wanted to ask you to take me back, baby please.”

”Not this again Natasha! How do you expect me to take you back when your girlfriend is 7 months pregnant, but we separated only 5 months ago!! You cheated on me! I try to do a nice thing and surprise you with dinner at your office and I walk in on you balls deep in that whore!” You exclaimed angrily. 

“Baby you are my wife, she doesn’t mean anything to me. I just want to make sure my child is okay, that is the only reason I keep her around. I promise.” She said reaching out and putting her hand on your thigh. 

“Then tell me why did you cheat on me, especially with Wanda from your office. I always told you she had a crush on you, but you waved me off. What does she have that I don’t?” 

“I don’t know, y/n I was craving some closeness. Things were different between us ever since you had the baby. We barely had sex and she was showing me all of this attention I just couldn’t resist. But I didn’t mean to get her pregnant. She told me she was on birth control and she ripped the condom off me, I think she was trying to baby trap me. I even offered to pay for her abortion when I found out she was pregnant, but she wouldn’t budge. Listen, I have to do what’s right for my baby, but I promise you things will be different if you take me back. I am done with her. I will pay for her to have an apartment, so my baby isn’t homeless and I want you and our daughter to move in here with me or we can move somewhere else, whatever you want baby.” At this point it seemed as though she was begging considering she found herself on her knees in front of you, looking up with her hands on her waist. 

“But why did you abandon our daughter, we called you everyday since the separation and you never picked up.” You said avoiding her eye contact.

 “I was so ashamed of myself, y/n. I couldn’t see you or hear your voice without reminding me of everything I lost. I didn’t want our daughter to think badly about me. Y/n I am so sorry and I can’t live without you, I need you to take me back.” She pleaded again on her knees.

 “Show me how much you really love me then.”, You said leaning down to whisper in the ear of the woman in front of you, before playing with in between your teeth. 

“Are you sure?”, She moaned looking up at you, watching you nod before standing up and grabbing you by the waist, hoisting you over her shoulder in the same motion, running up the stairs. 

“Wait, let's make sure she is still sleeping.”, You said, causing Natasha to stop and quietly open the door to check on your still sleeping daughter. 

“Okay all good let’s go.”, She said in a hurry, practically running down the hallway urging to soothe her hardened erection. Reaching her bedroom she threw you on the bed, face up. 

“Is this the bed you fuck her in?”, You asked with a playful smirk. 

“No baby. I promise we haven’t had sex since the time you caught us in my office. I couldn’t bring myself to fuck her again. But I am being honest when I say the few times we did it I was imagining she was you the whole time.”, She said while hovering over you and kissing your neck. 

“Right Natasha, you always know what the ladies want to hear.”, You said sarcastically, “just hurry up and fuck me before I change my mind.”

Natasha kissed your lips, sticking her tongue in your mouth while humping her bulge against your cunt. Pulling back for air she pulled off your shirt and undid your bra, eyes widening when she saw your huge, plump, and juicy tits. 

“Your tits have gotten so big ever since you have given birth.”, She said massaging them in her hands, slapping the nipple a few times before entering them into her hot mouth. Alternating each of them between her hand and her swirling tongue the pleasure was too much for you. This was the first time anyone had touched you in months since the separation.

 “Oh my god Natty. I have missed your mouth, you use it so well.”, You moaned, pushing her head downwards to where you needed it most. 

“I bet you’re about to love my mouth even more.”, she looked up with a smirk, pulling off your pants and discarding them across the room.

She kissed your clit through your panties, “You wore my favorite panties, it’s almost like you knew this was gonna happen.” she joked into your pussy.

Taking the panties off she smelled them, before putting them in the pocket of her pants. She spread your legs open and pushed them up against your body taking a deep sniff against your wetness moaning at the smell.

 “Still so wet for me baby, can’t wait to taste you.” Her flattened tongue swiftly licked from the bottom to the top, as she relished the taste. She continued her movements up and down before focusing slowly on the too long neglected clit. 

Sticking her tongue under the clit she began to flick, sending shivers down your spine. Your hands made their way to her head holding her hostage in between your thighs.

She ate you out with a renewed fervor like she had something to prove, which she most definitely did. She circled your clit rapidly, pulling out all the noises and juices she could from you. She next teasingly circled your oozing hole savoring the taste of your delicious excrement, before inserting her tongue back and forth expertly playing with your g-spot. 

After only a few minutes of her expert ministrations you couldn’t hold back anymore and you let go with a loud moan, squirting in her in the face you sprayed everywhere, violently shaking as you released your high. 

She licked her lips before removing her top and using it to wipe her face off. The bra went off with it. She moved up to face you again, before enveloping your lips in a kiss. Her tongue explored your mouth, before yours stopped it and sucked the taste of yourself off. 

Pulling back for air she exclaimed, “Your taste is indescribable, makes you incredibly irresistible. I can’t believe you left me without you for so long. I am so hard baby, I need you so bad.”  

“I’m aching so bad Natty, I want your cock.” With that she stood up and stepped out of her gym shorts, the bulge evident in her underwear. She quickly removed it and her gigantic cock sprung out hitting her in the stomach. Something you craved every night when you were alone in bed with your fingers between your thighs during the months you were apart.

She spit on her hand and collected the pre cum from the tip and rapidly spread it up and down her shaft. “Please natty, I've missed your cock so bad.” 

She pushed your legs wide open and fit herself in between them, carefully entering herself into your cunt. You wrapped your legs around her waist and she began with slow and gentle thrusts. 

“I have no self control when it comes to you. Your pussy feels so tight and warm milking my cock like this. Are you okay if I speed up.” She pulls her head up from out of your neck desperately begging to go faster.

Looking up you heard the door open, unbeknownst to Natasha who was caught up in the pleasure. Stood in the doorway was Wanda, Natasha’s girlfriend and baby mama, fuming at the sight. You smirked and decided to have some fun with this.

”Yes Natty please go faster. Is this the best pussy you’ve ever had? Tell me it feels way better than that whore you got knocked up.”

”Of course baby, her pussy does not compare to yours at all.”, She said while you glared up at the woman.

”Tell mommy how much you missed her and how that bitch means nothing to you.”

”Uggh yes mommy, daddy missed you so much that bitch is nothing I promise. I will call her and tell her that for her to hear”, She exclaimed through rapid uneven breaths, in between kissing all over your neck and face.

“It’s okay, no need for that.”, You said with a smug smirk.

Wanda angrily stormed out holding back tears. While you smiled and pulled Natasha in for an intimate kiss. “I love you, Natasha. I trust you, please don’t break it again.”

Natasha eagerly pulled back, shocked at your words, “I love you too so much y/n . I promise I will never do anything to hurt you ever again.” 

“I’m close natty, please.”, You held her tighter than you ever had and relished her thrusts.

”Don’t hold back, I'm right with you, baby.”, she said, her speech broken due to the approaching orgasm. Her cum spurted in a hot rush of liquid, hitting your g-spot directly causing your orgasm. 

“I don’t know if you’re on birth control or not, but it would be great for our daughter to have a sibling.”, She planted a kiss on your lips.

 “She is going to have a sibling, or did you already forget about your infidelity?”, You said with a roll of your eyes.

”Right…”, She said awkwardly, scratching her head. 

Comment down below if you guys would have taken her back or not!

[f1daydreamer]

His True Love

Warnings: Fluff, angst, and Lando being the ultimate simp.

Word count: ~2,500

Summary: Fans speculate endlessly about Lando’s relationship with Magui Corceiro, but they’re way off the mark. He’s actually dating Magui’s cousin—Amélia—a private and shy soul. After months of keeping their relationship under wraps, Lando decides her birthday is the perfect time to introduce her to the world.

---

The light from Lando’s phone illuminated his face as he scrolled through Instagram, his jaw tightening at the captions and comments under yet another photo of Magui Corceiro with his group of friends.

User4: It’s so obvious they’re together.

User3: Lando and Magui? I ship it!

User7: Power couple energy!

He sighed, tossing his phone onto the bed. It was the same thing over and over. Fans had latched onto the idea of him and Magui being together simply because she appeared in group photos and videos.

Amélia’s voice pulled him from his thoughts. “You okay?”

He turned to see her standing in the doorway, her soft hazel eyes meeting his. She was wearing one of his oversized hoodies, her golden-brown waves spilling over her shoulders, and her presence alone eased the tension in his chest.

“It’s just the fans,” he admitted, motioning for her to join him.

She padded over, sitting cross-legged beside him. “Still think you’re with Magui?”

He nodded, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah. It’s annoying.”

Amélia gave him a small smile, her shy demeanor never wavering. “Well, they don’t know about me. It’s not their fault.”

“But it’s frustrating,” he said, reaching out to take her hand. “I don’t want people thinking I’m with her when I have you.”

Her cheeks flushed, and she ducked her head. “I don’t mind staying out of the spotlight, Lando. It’s not worth the attention—or the drama.”

He frowned. While he understood her preference for privacy, he hated that their relationship was invisible to the world. She was the best part of his life, and he wanted people to know.

---

As weeks passed, the speculation grew worse. Every time Magui was seen with his friends, social media erupted with theories.

User9: Magui is so lucky.

User5: When will Lando finally confirm her?

User1: They’re literally perfect together.

It didn’t help that Amélia was nowhere to be found in his public life. She didn’t appear at races, avoided social media, and steered clear of situations where cameras might catch her.

One evening, as they curled up on the couch, Lando couldn’t keep his thoughts to himself any longer.

“I think I want to post about us,” he said, his voice steady but tentative.

Amélia blinked up at him, her expression soft but surprised. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” he said firmly. “It’s your birthday soon, and I want to celebrate you—properly. Not just between us but with everyone.”

Her brows furrowed slightly. “Lando… your fans can be brutal. I don’t want you to deal with that.”

“They’ll love you,” he said, cupping her face in his hands. “And even if they don’t, I don’t care. You mean everything to me, Amélia. I want the world to know how lucky I am.”

Her heart fluttered at his words, and though she was still nervous, she trusted him. “Okay,” she whispered.

His face lit up with a grin, and he pulled her into his arms. “Best decision ever.”

---

The day of her birthday, Lando posted a carousel of photos on Instagram. Each one captured a special moment between them—moments that had remained hidden from the world until now.

Lando Norris: Happy birthday to my everything. You’re the kindest, most beautiful, and incredible person I’ve ever known. Thank you for making me the luckiest guy in the world. Love you forever, Amélia. 🧡

Within minutes, his post went viral. Fans flooded the comments, their reactions a chaotic mix of shock, curiosity, and adoration.

---

Fans’ Reactions:

User21: WHO IS SHE?!

User11: Wait… this isn’t Magui?

User76: She’s stunning omg.

User44:I KNEW IT. Lando wasn’t dating Magui. They didn’t have the vibe.

User54: She looks so sweet and shy. I love her already.

User27:Protect Amélia at all costs.

Amélia scrolled through the comments with wide eyes, her nerves easing as she realized the overwhelming positivity.

She turned to Lando, who was lounging beside her with a triumphant smirk on his face.

“See? I told you they’d love you,” he said, clearly pleased with himself.

“Not all of them,” she replied, though her tone was light.

“They don’t matter,” he said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “What matters is that now everyone knows you’re mine.”

She laughed softly, leaning into his embrace. “I guess they do.”

He pressed a kiss to her temple, his voice full of affection. “Happy birthday, love.”

---

Note

Hey, friends! So, this is my first time writing a one-shot, and wow, coming up with a plot? Easy-peasy. Actually writing it? A struggle and a half. But it was so much fun bringing this to life! Hope you enjoyed some Lando fluff with a side of angst—because who doesn’t love a man being a total simp? Thanks for reading! 💛

[cruel-seduction]

If I get more pretty? 

Content Warnings: Mild cursing, angst, emotional vulnerability, themes of insecurity, and crying.

Summary: You and Mattheo have been keeping your relationship under wraps. But when doubts and insecurities begin to creep in, you find yourself questioning your worth. Mattheo, however, won’t let you suffer in silence. He’ll fight through any storm—no matter how many times he has to face it—because the one thing he won’t ever allow is for you to feel unloved. And when it comes to loving you, he’s unstoppable.

Glimpse - You smirked, your lips quivering as you raised an eyebrow. “Don’t speak too much, Riddle. Or I might just impregnate you.”

He withdrew his hands from you in mock horror, covering his body as if you’d just said the most scandalous thing in the world. “I knew it,” he said, feigning shock, “You only want me for my body.”

a/n - I am writing this while I am in metro and I forgot to bring my headphones and there is a really cute guy sitting next to me who also have dimples and he looks like a nerd cause he is doing some maths equation and he even smiled at me so I am fucking happy.

The sun hung low on the horizon, its amber rays stretching lazily across the Black Lake, casting a soft, golden glow over the rippling water. You were sprawled out beneath a towering oak tree, its ancient branches providing just enough shade to temper the warmth of the evening. Your back rested comfortably against the rough bark, while Pansy’s head lolled casually on your shoulder. To your left, Mattheo sat close, his presence grounding you in a way you didn’t quite understand but had come to crave.

You weren’t exactly close friends with the group gathered here. Pansy was an acquaintance at best—though her sharp wit and biting humor had grown on you—but Mattheo? He was your secret. Your boyfriend. A relationship that defied logic and societal expectations. On the surface, you and Mattheo were opposites: you, measured and reserved; him, chaos wrapped in dark allure. You had loathed his reputation once, the stories of his recklessness and destruction, but now you knew the truth—the tender boy beneath the mask, the one who would move mountains just to see you smile.

Still, it was your idea to keep things private. “Private until permanent,” you had insisted, brushing away his protests with a laugh. “People are too eager to cast their evil eye.” It wasn’t that you didn’t want the world to know. You did. But you couldn’t shake the instinct to protect what was precious to you, even if the irony of shielding someone as notorious as Mattheo Riddle from harm didn’t escape you.

Your voice broke through the tranquil atmosphere as you finished recounting a story, one that had the group doubled over in laughter. “It’s not that funny, you assholes,” you muttered, though a smile tugged at your lips. “I’m actually concerned about it, okay? Like, it’s true, but still…” You rolled your eyes, your chuckle mingling with the fading laughter. Eventually, you let your head rest atop Pansy’s, her dark curls tickling your cheek. From the corner of your eye, you noticed Mattheo watching, his dark gaze fixed on where Pansy leaned against you. His jaw tightened ever so slightly, and you couldn’t help but suppress a grin. Jealousy suited him.

As the laughter ebbed, Blaise leaned back on his elbows, a smirk playing on his lips as he turned to Mattheo. “So, Riddle,” he drawled, mischief sparkling in his eyes. “What’s the deal with that redhead who’s been mooning over you?”

Mattheo’s brow furrowed, a flicker of confusion crossing his face. “What redhead?”

“Oh, don’t play coy,” Blaise replied with a laugh. “You know exactly who I’m talking about. The redhead—absolute knockout—who’s been fawning over you.”

“She doesn’t,” Mattheo said firmly, his tone laced with mild irritation. “She just assumes we’re friends.”

“Friends, huh?” Blaise quirked an eyebrow. “Let me enlighten you, Riddle. Do women usually parade around in barely-there clothing for their so-called friends?” His teasing earned him a sharp slap to the back of the head from Pansy.

“Any girl can wear whatever she damn well pleases,” she snapped. “And it doesn’t have to be for anyone, let alone a man. And If I hear you say such nonsense I will chop your dick and feed it to that three headed dog, you understand?”

Blaise rubbed the back of his head, chuckling. “Alright, alright. I am sorry, ma’am. But come on, Mattheo. She waits for you at Quidditch practice every morning. Five a.m., mate. No one studies that hard in the field when we’ve got a perfectly good library. She’s practically throwing herself at you.”

Theodore, lounging nearby, chimed in with a smirk. “I have to agree. She’s got a killer figure. Honestly, Riddle, she seems tailor-made for one of your infamous one-night flings. Speaking of which, you’ve been suspiciously… alone lately. Someone caught your eye?”

Before Mattheo could respond, Pansy interjected, her tone light but edged with sarcasm. “Please. Mattheo fawning over just one woman? Not possible. It’s probably against his DNA or something. The man’s practically programmed to bounce from one hot girl to another.” She leaned back, her lips curving into a mischievous smile. “And some of those girls, I’ll admit, are downright smashable. Even I’m tempted sometimes.”

The group laughed, the conversation shifting seamlessly to lighter topics, but their words lingered, carving fissures in your confidence. Their teasing shouldn’t have bothered you—you knew Mattheo’s heart belonged to you—but doubts began to creep in, unbidden and persistent. Were you enough for him? Did he deserve someone better, someone more dazzling, more suited to his world?

The thoughts gnawed at you until you felt a warm hand slip over yours. Startled, you turned your head to find Mattheo watching you, his gaze impossibly tender. His lips curved into a small, genuine smile, one that spoke of unspoken promises and quiet devotion. You mustered a smile in return, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes.

And Mattheo noticed.

He always noticed.

Later that evening, you made your way back from the library, your bag slung lazily over your shoulder and your thoughts preoccupied. Mattheo had skipped your study date, and though disappointment gnawed at the edges of your mind, you reasoned it away. He was probably busy with Quidditch practice—the final match was looming, and the pressure was mounting. He’d make it up to you after the match, you told yourself, because that’s who he was. He always found a way to make things right.

Still, the morning’s conversation lingered, casting a faint shadow over your thoughts. You didn’t want to overthink it—it wasn’t worth ruining your mood—but the words from earlier replayed in your head like an unwelcome echo. To distract yourself, you silently recited the lyrics to a song, focusing on the rhythm of your footsteps as you made your way toward your dorm.

And then, just as you turned a corner, you saw them.

The sight froze you in place, a wave of nausea churning in your stomach as your heart plummeted. There he was—Mattheo—standing with a girl so breathtakingly beautiful it felt like the universe was mocking you. Her golden hair fell in perfect waves, her face framed with elegance, her height poised like a model stepping off a magazine cover. She was flawless. Perfect hair. Perfect face. Perfect everything. She was everything you weren’t.

Your chest tightened as you watched her lean toward him, her laughter like a siren’s call, and bile rose in your throat. You wanted to scream, to curse her, to tear her apart with the fire burning in your chest. But then the sharp edge of reality cut through. Was she really at fault? She didn’t know. To her, Mattheo was just another unattached, impossibly attractive boy. It wasn’t her fault she was flirting with someone who everyone believed was fair game.

Still, your gaze locked on her hand as it brushed his shoulder, and the lump in your throat grew harder to swallow. He moved his arm away, subtle but deliberate. Yet your mind refused to accept it. Why wasn’t he doing more? Why wasn’t he stopping her outright, shutting her down completely? Did he… like the attention? Or worse, did he realize he was better off with someone like her? Someone perfect?

The thought shattered something inside you. Tears welled up in your eyes as you stood there, frozen, watching the scene unfold. The voice in your head whispered cruel truths: He deserves someone better. Someone who fits his world. Someone who isn’t you.

You loved him so much it ached, but wasn’t love about sacrifice? About letting go? You told yourself it was. And so, that’s what you did.

For the next week, you committed to what you bitterly called your “stupid mission” of letting him go. You ignored Mattheo at every turn, cutting off the moments that had once been routine—canceling dates with feeble excuses, skipping his Quidditch practices where you used to show up just to watch him, even avoiding the places where you knew you might run into him. If he was better off without you, you wouldn’t stand in his way.

But boy, you were so wrong.

Which is how you ended up here, in the dim light of an abandoned classroom, your back pressed against the cold stone wall. His dark eyes burned with intensity, locking onto yours as he caged you in with both hands planted firmly on either side of your head. His body radiated heat, and the tension in the air was palpable.

“Mattheo,” you hissed, shoving at his chest, though it was futile against his unyielding strength. “Let me go.”

“Not until you tell me what the hell is going on,” he snapped, his voice low and rough. “You’ve been avoiding me all week. Canceling on me. Ignoring me. And don’t even try to lie, because I know you’ve been doing it on purpose.”

You glared at him, your hands curling into fists as you shoved at him again. “It doesn’t matter, Mattheo. Just—just let me go, fucker.”

“It matters to me,” he growled, his face inches from yours now. “You don’t get to just disappear from my life and act like it’s nothing. Tell me what’s going on.”

Tears pricked at the edges of your vision, but you blinked them away, refusing to let him see you break. “Why are you here?,” you choked out, the words slicing through you like broken glass. “You certainly were enjoying that blondie’s attention..”

Mattheo’s brows furrowed, confusion giving way to something deeper—something that almost looked like heartbreak. “Blondie who?”

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat threatening to choke you. “The girl from the last week. The one for whom you cancelled our study date for—”

But before you could finish, Mattheo leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper that sent shivers down your spine. “Stop.” His hand found yours, his grip firm but gentle. “You seriously thought I would cheat on you?”

Your breath hitched, the fight draining from you as his words sank in “But—”

“You don’t even have this much trust in me?” His voice cracked, barely above a whisper, the hurt and disbelief evident in every word.

You shook your head, tears streaming freely now. “No, Mattheo, it’s not about trust. It’s about reality. You deserve better. Someone like her—perfect body, perfect everything. And I don’t think we’re meant for each other. I’m not perfect, not even close. So, it’s not that I think you would cheat,” you choked on the words, your heart breaking with every breath, “but I think you’re better off with her.”

By now, your sobs had overtaken you, the rawness of your feelings too much to contain. You were crying—really crying, like you hadn’t in years. Mattheo’s expression shifted from confusion to something deeper, darker, as he moved towards you.

Before you could even react, his hand found the back of your neck, his touch cold against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. His other hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you close, as he pressed your head to his chest, the steady beat of his heart grounding you. His lips brushed over your hair, his voice low and insistent.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” His words were like a punch to the gut. “Don’t pull this movie bullshit on me, babe. That I deserve someone better? Cause we both know that I don’t. Come on, I don’t. I have more than enough. I have you. The fucking real goddess.”

You felt his arms tighten around you, his words sinking into your soul. “I don’t believe in reincarnation or any of that shit,” he continued, his voice softer now, “but I do think I’ve done something right in this life, something good, because I get to be with you. And trust me, baby—you and I are the only endgame. At first, I thought this was just some fling, but now? A day without talking to you feels like a waste. And I want to say some romantic shit like I’ll be with you even if the whole world is against you, but fuck that. I’m not weak, baby. I’ll kill anyone who dares go against you. Do you understand?”

A strange, tearful smile tugged at your lips as you looked up at him. His hand ran up and down your back, comforting, reassuring.

“I know now’s not the right time to say this, but you’re getting your snot all over the only clean dress I have, baby.”

You lightly slapped his shoulder in mock annoyance, but the tension in your chest began to ease. He made you laugh, even in the midst of everything. You pulled your face back to look at him, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him. The kiss was slow and soft, unlike any other kiss you’d shared. It was filled with something tender, something fragile, as if he was holding you close, afraid that if he let go, you might vanish.

When you finally broke the kiss, his gaze was fixed on you—his eyes filled with an intensity that spoke volumes. You could see it, clear as day: he was yours, and you were his. You were the endgame.

“You think I’d waste my time with anyone else when I have you?” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “Baby, you’re the only person who can handle all of me—the good, the bad, and the downright shitty. You believe in me. You worry about me when I get sick. You scold me when I’m being an idiot. And most importantly, when I look in your eyes, all I see is love. Not fear. Not ‘Riddle’s son.’ Just me.”

You smirked, your lips quivering as you raised an eyebrow. “Don’t speak too much, Riddle. Or I might just impregnate you.”

He withdrew his hands from you in mock horror, covering his body as if you’d just said the most scandalous thing in the world. “I knew it,” he said, feigning shock, “You only want me for my body.”

And you laughed, the sound of it echoing in the empty room, light and carefree, a stark contrast to the heaviness that had settled earlier. But it didn’t matter.

Mattheo Riddle, for all his faults, his arrogance, his unpredictable nature—he was yours. And you loved him. Maybe love wasn’t about letting go, after all. Maybe it was about holding on, cherishing what you had while it was still yours. Because if you had to let go of your love, then maybe it wasn’t meant to be in the first place.

Main Masterlist || Divider - @bernardsbendystraws

[flowersforbucky]

omg, i'm so excited to make my way through your masterlist after reading this. idk how i missed this when you first posted it but i'm so happy to have read it NOW. i loved each and every one of the 13k words. thoughts under the cut -

"must own insane stock in eyedrops" 💀😂

Your hands grip the edge of the table, desperate to clutch at something solid to root you in reality as the kaleidoscope of memories swirl before your eyes, colliding and merging with one another. All the timelines converging down to a single point of existence within your mind. It doesn’t matter how many times you’ve experienced this process, the return of your memories—the return of your consciousness—was always accompanied by a torturous sensory overload. 

this is so descriptive 🤌🏻

You’re half a mile away from the cache when you feel it—the inky slick of anger. It catches on the air and wafts towards you in waves. You slow your steps as you approach the road and come to a halt when the battered van comes into view. 

ahhh i love the way you described how her powers feel! i always love both writing and reading empath readers and you're killing it!

The sight of him ignites a spark of longing that blooms in your chest and makes you physically ache. You can feel him. Your lips remember the hungered warmth of his mouth against yours, the way he’d nip at your bottom lip so you’d open up for him. Your skin remembers the calloused rasp of his hands and not just the greedy grabs when he needed to claim you, but the light brushes of his fingertips against your palm as he held your hand, just to remind himself that you were real. Your nose remembers his scent, woodsy and clean, like the earth after rain. 

literally stunning the way you worded all of this my god

“What are you going to do, think happy thoughts at it?” he asks, his tone biting and sarcastic. 

“Look. I’ve had a shitty coupla days here. And you’re saying a lot of shit I don’t understand.”

i can so clearly hear logan saying all of the dialogue that you write for him

the scene of her helping him through the nightmare and him asking her to stay and they cuddled? yeah i ate that shit UP

i loved the whole scene between reader and wade! i feel like a lot of people struggle to get wade's characterization right (myself included) but the way you wrote his dialogue came across so naturally.

He takes a step closer, his eyes narrowing as his lips curl into a cruel smile. “Yeah, you’d like that wouldn’t you? Me sinking into your cunt while you picture whatever version of me you think I am.” His voice is a low rumble, adding to the tension threatening to suffocate you. 

damn i know i shouldn't be turned on rn but something is wrong with me so

Logan doesn’t have time to react before you channel your powers towards him, unleashing an explosive burst of energy that sends him staggering back. And then you smother him, smother him in thousands of years of memories, thousands of years of every single feeling you had ever felt for him in every universe you’ve known him. 

YEAH GET HIM!!!!

Logan cuts you off with a shake of his head, his eyes now locked onto yours. “I already knew, sweetheart,”he murmurs, his voice low. “You feel like—you feel like home.” 

soooo happy he's being open and letting her in ♡♡♡

He kisses you softly then, his mouth slow over yours and he drops his thigh from between your leg. You whine at the loss and he pulls back. “C’mere,” he says, grabbing your hand and leading you further into he apartment. “I’m not fucking you for the first time against a door.”

whatever you say baby 😩😩😩

Kneeling on the bed, he lays you down, kissing his way down your stomach, his nose nuzzling along the top of your panties. “Do you have any fucking idea how sweet you smell?” His mouth is hot against your skin and he laughs as you tilt your hips up towards him. “You want me to fuck you with my tongue? Lap at you until you’re seeing stars?”

YA ACTUALLY I DO THANKS FOR ASKING

Logan hums. “Sweetest pussy I’ve ever tasted, sweetheart.” His tongue dips down, collecting the arousal at your entrance. “I could die happy between these thighs.”

“I know, sweetheart,” he rasps, dragging his gaze up to your face, “I got you. Takin’ me so well, so tight. Gonna spend the rest of my life tellin’ you how fucking good you are.”

LORDDD I LOVE DIRTY TALKING LOGAN

i truly cannot say enough incredible things about this entire fic. i was so invested from the very beginning. it has so many tropes that i adore and you just really knocked it out of the park. worst logan has a special place in my heart and i just really adored the way you wrote both him and reader. this was flawless, magnificent, truly a beautiful piece.

Til The Sun Turns Black

SYNOPSIS: Your soul is bound to his and you're destined to follow him across the multiverse. When the TVA finds you and sends you to the Void, you feel your chance of finding him has slipped through your fingers. But what you find there is more than you bargained for.

PAIRING: Worst!Wolverine x fem!reader

WC: 13.1 k I apologize for nothing

WARNINGS: smut 18+, mdni, mentions of drinking, angst, peril, some fluff, implied age gap (I guess?), mental trauma, miscommunication, Wade being Wade, dirty talk, oral (m and f receiving), fingering, cowgirl, missionary, cock warming, sex with feelings, unprotected p in v

A/N: Thank you so much for all the love on Soft Edges! I was not expecting that kind of response when I posted that story, so thank you <3. I had the idea for this story in my head since after I first saw the movie. I had no idea my one random runaway thought would turn into this. Also, this story would not have been finished if it weren't for @joelsgoldrush. She let me tease her for WEEKS with this and act as the ultimate sounding board. And she's overall just a delightful human being and I'm so glad I've found her.

The TVA agent sits staring at you, an odd and uncomfortable smile on his face. Like he isn’t quite sure he knows how to smile but had seen it once on TV.  You also don’t think he’s blinked in the past several minutes. It makes your eyes water just thinking about it. 

“I don’t understand why I’m here.”

“Ah, yes, well—“ the agent clears his throat and smoothes a hand down his chest. “You’re a threat to the multiverse.”

You squint your eyes at him and wonder if you’re lucid dreaming. Or trapped in some bizarre fever dream, but you can’t remember being sick. “The…multiverse? As in, more than one universe?”

He nods once. “Precisely.”

It’s your turn to stare as absolutely none of this is making sense. The morning had started off normal—wake up, shower, coffee at your favorite local corner store. You had barely finished your latte when you were apprehended and taken to this bland room by a man who must own insane stock in eyedrops.��

“You see, we’ve been watching you for quite some time,” he continues, oblivious of your growing confusion. “A handful of reincarnations, actually. And we believe we’ve finally pinned it down.”

His words sound insane. 

You were a low level mutant at best. You’ve been able to deeply sense and influence emotions in others since you were six—a standard empath if there ever was one. But reincarnation?

“Reincarnations? I’m sorry but—”

You feel it coming then, that all too familiar prickle of deja vu creeping up your spine and setting deep in your brain. The room begins to soften, the corners blurring and you feel disjointed, separate from the you sitting in the chair.

“Ah, see. We’ve pinned it down.”

The world tilts on its axis and your mind explodes into brilliance, the memories of hundreds of alternate versions of yourself firing down your synapses, leaving you as raw and exposed as a fresh wound. The pain is all consuming as you gasp for air and desperately try to quell the throbbing in your skull. 

Your hands grip the edge of the table, desperate to clutch at something solid to root you in reality as the kaleidoscope of memories swirl before your eyes, colliding and merging with one another. All the timelines converging down to a single point of existence within your mind. It doesn’t matter how many times you’ve experienced this process, the return of your memories—the return of your consciousness—was always accompanied by a torturous sensory overload. 

“You see? You have extensive knowledge of the multiverse. And that kind of knowledge is coveted and dangerous.”

Your vision blurs as the memories keep slamming into you and you can’t help the primal scream that rips from your lungs, the pain in your throat a welcome distraction from the torture in your head. And then, amid the chaos, a single figure emerges in crisp focus, a face you’ve seen thousands of times.

“Logan.” His name comes out in a whisper, your voice trembling.

You know he’s not actually in front of you and instead a mirage, a figment of your overloaded neurons, but his presence calms you. 

“Yes, Logan. You two are quite fond of each other.” The agent stands and you squint up at him, wanting to be anywhere else as you regain your memories. “But never mind him. We can’t have you traipsing around with all that knowledge in your head.”

“No, no, no, please. Please just let me find him,” you beg, hating the desperation laced in your voice. 

The last thing you see before being sent out of existence is his creepy, uncanny smile. 

+++

The Void was bullshit. 

It had been a month since you were unceremoniously dumped here. 

Maybe. 

You weren’t really sure.  

Time had no meaning, each day seeming to stretch on for eons and simultaneously in the blink of an eye. And for every single one of those moments you’d been focused on one of two things: finding a way out and not dying. 

You quickly learned you had a better chance at survival if you stuck to the outskirts and avoided others. So you squirreled yourself away, sheltering in an abandoned cabin and hoping beyond hope you could figure out a way out of the desolate cesspool you found yourself in. 

Figure out a way back to him. 

Back home. 

+++

You don’t venture out unless you have to. 

The Void is full of phantom emotions left behind by its previous inhabitants and the cacophony overwhelms you. Rage, terror and despair so thickly envelope every surface you feel like you’re choking. It’s beginning to wear so harshly on your nerves you wonder if you might actually go insane here.

There was a tension growing in the Void. You’d heard whispers of unrest within the factions, Cassandra hungry for something to sink her teeth into. The undercurrent of rage has increased in the last couple of days and it’s enough to set your teeth on edge.

Stuffing a backpack with a few essentials in case you get stranded, you ready yourself for a supply run. The thought of leaving the perceived safety of your cabin has little appeal, but you’ve been putting it off for far too long. There was a small cache only a few miles from your cabin that other survivors kept stocked with extra provincials. You were hoping for something good, anything other can canned food or cereal. Or Spam. 

Tightening the straps on your backpack, you take one last glance around before stepping out into the forest. It’s eerily quiet, no birds or animals chattering to fill the silence, just the crunch of your shoes against fallen leaves. The Void has always felt oppressive to you, the air just a little too heavy, but there’s something lingering today that makes you feel on edge. Your skin prickles with anticipation and you pat your belt for the knife you’ve stashed there. 

Just in case. 

You’re half a mile away from the cache when you feel it—the inky slick of anger. It catches on the air and wafts towards you in waves. You slow your steps as you approach the road and come to a halt when the battered van comes into view. 

Your breath hitches in your throat. 

You’d recognize those claw marks anywhere. 

Your heart races as your eyes trace the deep, jagged cuts gouged into the metal and the large swathes of blood coating the ground and what you can see of the interior of the van. Instinctively your hand tightens around the hilt of your knife and you crouch down low behind a fallen log. You scan the area for any signs of movement and find none, but you know Logan is stealthier than you and wouldn’t give up his location willingly. 

The van door creaks open on its battered hinges and you inhale sharply as Logan stumbles out of the vehicle covered in dried blood and sweat and more knife wounds and bullet holes than you can count. 

The sight of him ignites a spark of longing that blooms in your chest and makes you physically ache. You can feel him. Your lips remember the hungered warmth of his mouth against yours, the way he’d nip at your bottom lip so you’d open up for him. Your skin remembers the calloused rasp of his hands and not just the greedy grabs when he needed to claim you, but the light brushes of his fingertips against your palm as he held your hand, just to remind himself that you were real. Your nose remembers his scent, woodsy and clean, like the earth after rain. 

Shaking your head, you push down the memories and peer back over the log. A slight breeze wafts through the air and you watch as he sniffs, his head turning in your direction. 

“Fuck,” you curse lowly, trying to crouch further out of eyesight. 

You hear the metallic snikt of his claws and your pulse quickens. There’s no point in hiding—he knows you’re there. You take a slow, steady breath before attempting to focus waves of calm in his direction, hoping to ease some of the anger wound around him. 

His eyes lock onto yours, sharp and predatory and he shakes his head, trying to keep you out. “Who the fuck’re you?” 

You draw back your power and raise your hands in surrender as you slowly rise to your feet. You toss out your name and silently hope for a spark of recognition. But he doesn’t know you. Not yet. 

“It’s not safe out here alone,” you start, moving out of your hiding place. You walk towards him, his eyes following your every move. “There’s a cache just up ahead—” 

The atmosphere shifts without warning, the anger you’d felt previously now melting into thick, cloying fear and desperation. You can taste the ozone and the hairs at the back of your neck stand on end as electricity sizzles across the sky. Glancing up, you see the dark, swirling mass of Alioth just beginning to form. 

You look at Logan, panic racing along your nerves. “I promise I’ll explain everything to you later, but I know you, Logan, and right now I need you to trust me.” 

Alioth’s presence is getting stronger and drawing closer, and every drop of tension and rage swirling within is beginning to weigh down on you, threatening to suffocate you. 

Logan’s eyes narrow, but there’s a slight twitch in his jaw and you know he’s considering your words. His claws retract, but his muscles remain tense, coiled and ready to attack. You grab for his arm, feeling the warmth of his skin and the hard muscle beneath your fingers. “We have to go. Now.”

For a moment, you think he might resist. But then with a low curse, he follows you, his stride matching yours as you lead him towards the cache. The trees blur by, the wind picking up and beginning to toss leaves and loose branches into the air. 

You’re operating on pure adrenaline and your heart pounds in your chest as you run, Alioth gaining speed and distance faster than either of you can move. Each gasp of air burns your lungs and your muscles ache with the effort of your sprint. 

Still a quarter of a mile away from the cache, you know you won’t be able to outrun Alioth. The storm has consumed the sky, the sun diminished to twilight, as the thunder and groans loom ever closer. You turn towards Logan and yell, “It’s too close, we’re not gonna make it!”

Logan’s eyes flash with anger as you stop and turn towards the oncoming destruction. He grabs for your wrist, pulling you almost nose to nose. “What the fuck are you talking about?” he growls, chest heaving with the effort to breathe. “We can’t stop!”

His proximity briefly disarms you, his fierce gaze igniting something deep within you, but you don’t have time to dwell on those emotions. You take a deep breath in an attempt to steady your nerves. “I’m gonna try and calm it down.”

“What are you going to do, think happy thoughts at it?” he asks, his tone biting and sarcastic. 

You know every cell in his body is begging to fight, aching to release his claws and tear Alioth apart with his bare hands. But this isn’t something brute strength can subdue. 

“Just trust me,” you plead, your eyes searching his for some indication that he believes you. “Please.”

His stare is hard, but eventually his eyes soften and he loosens his grip on your wrist. “Fine.”

Tearing your gaze from him, you turn back towards the storm, now a full blown maelstrom of anger and destruction hellbent on consuming you both whole. You exhale slowly, pushing your own emotions of fear and panic as far down as you can. Instead, you turn inward and concentrate on every feeling of peace, calm and stillness you’ve ever experienced and project it outwards. Waves of soothing energy pour from you, an almost ghostly aura emanating from you as your power continues to grow. Alioth continues to surge towards you, the wind now flattening trees to the ground and lifting debris high into the air. 

The fight is excruciating, every cell in your body shaking with effort as you continue to project outwards, the sphere of your influence growing. When the two opposing masses collide, you’re almost knocked off your feet by the force. You’re vaguely aware of Logan beside you, claws unsheathing as he steps closer into your protective shield. 

For a brief moment, you feel the power of the storm ebb before it seems to press into you harder. Your knees begin to buckle and your stance slips. “I…I don’t know if I can hold it!” you gasp. 

Logan doesn’t run but instead moves closer, giving you one solitary nod. You can feel Logan’s eyes on you, feel the doubt swirling behind them and yet he stays besides you, ready to fight. 

His silent encouragement is enough. 

You are not dying in the fucking Void. 

Gritting your teeth, you continue to push. A guttural scream rips from your throat as black spots dot your vision and blood drips from your nose. You dig down, channeling every last drop of your energy into a final wave, extending yourself deep within the core of the storm. 

The black of the storm begins to retreat and the wind begins to calm. As the first few beams of sunlight filter in through the treetops, your vision fades completely and the world goes black. 

The last thing you feel is a pair of strong arms wrapping around you before your mind goes blissfully blank and unconsciousness claims you. 

+++

You wake up in the cache. 

Dust motes dance in the sunlight streaming in through the broken windows. The light is soft, definitely not the early morning glow from before you left the comfort of your cabin and you wonder how long you were out. With a groan, you try to sit up. Your body is stiff, every muscle in your body aching with the effort you took to banish Alioth. Wincing, you swing your legs out of the makeshift bed, the effort taking your breath away and you can feel the sickly creep of nausea climb up your throat. 

A low voice cuts through the haze. “Take it easy.”

Logan. 

You blink, trying to adjust your eyes to the light and find him sitting on the floor, one leg pulled up to his chest as a bottle of whiskey hangs between his fingers. He takes a long pull and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. 

“How long was I out?” you ask, your voice hoarse. 

Logan doesn’t answer immediately. He reaches over at a box beside him and then rolls a water bottle towards your feet before he finally mutters, “A day.” 

You accept the bottle with a nod of thanks. Taking a slow sip, you close your eyes as the liquid soothes your throat even as your body protests the movement. You’ve never used your powers to that degree before. Fuck, you didn’t even know you could. A perverse sense of pride licks at the edge of your exhaustion. 

Lowering the bottle, you breathe deeply in an attempt to settle the nausea rolling in the pit of your stomach. You glance at Logan and find him watching you, his eyes sharp, calculating. 

“You owe me some answers. You said you knew me.”

You meet his gaze, the weight of his words pressing down on you. After hundreds of encounters with different Logans, it was never easy explaining to him what you were. For a long time, you didn’t even have a name for it. All you knew was that your consciousness, all your memories, everything that you are moves across different universes and inevitably crosses paths with Logan. It always felt like an invisible string, guiding your soul to his. 

“I’m a temporal nomad.”

Logan’s eyes narrow as he glares at you. “A temporal what?” His tone is laced with skepticism. 

You take another sip of water, giving yourself time to gather your thoughts and push away the throbbing at your temples. “A temporal nomad. I don’t die, not in the way you think, anyway.”

Logan doesn’t move, but you see his grip tighten on the bottle in his hand, his knuckles going white. “You tellin’ me you’re immortal?”

“No, not immortal,” you reply, exhaling slowly. “When I die, my consciousness moves. I reincarnate in a different universe. Eventually I regain everything—my experiences, my memories, my feelings. It’s why—” you pause and take a deep, steadying breath. “It’s why I always find you.”

Your words hit their mark and Logan’s eyes flash with something you can’t quite decipher—shock, disbelief, maybe some anger. He sits up straighter, tipping the whiskey bottle to his lips without breaking eye contact. “You always find me?” he asks, his voice a low rumble. “We’ve met before?”

“I’ve lost count of how many time, actually,” you admit softly. “But in every reality, every universe, I find you. And we’re not just friends, Logan.”

Your words linger in the air between you and your heart pounds loudly in your chest. Logan stands suddenly, the now empty whiskey bottle clattering to the ground. He runs a hand through his hair before scrubbing it down his face, his jaw clenched as he paces within the small space. A mirthless chuckle escapes his lips. “This smells like bullshit, sweetheart.”

Your heart aches at his use of the word sweetheart. It’s one he’s always preferred for you, usually spoken with reverence, like a prayer falling from his lips. Except now it’s casual and cold, something with a sharp edge instead of softness. 

“I know how crazy it sounds. Believe me, Logan, it took me several lifetimes to wrap my mind around it.” You stand, your legs wobbly with the effort and you wince against the pull in your spent muscles. “But I know you.”

His expression hardens. “Yeah? Well, I don’t know you. And if you really knew me, you’d know to stay the fuck away from people like me.” Logan’s pacing grows more hurried, his hands clenching into fists. 

“I can’t,” you say softly, taking a tentative step closer towards him. “And I don’t want to. While I might not know the Logan in front of me or the nuances that make you different from the others, I know you.”

His nostrils flare and he lets out a low growl. “Stop.”

“I know the way you fight,” you continue, ignoring his warning. “I know the way you carry your pain as if no one else can possibly shoulder that weight. I know—”

“Stop!”

“—how you push people away to protect them, but that deep down you hope someone will push back. You may carry a lot of self loathing, Logan, but even you know you’re not heartless.” 

Logan’s fist slams into the wall behind him, the sound reverberating in the small room. He stands there, chest heaving, his knuckles bleeding from where they made contact with the rough wooden planks. You watch as the raw skin knits itself back together, his head hanging low. 

His jaw clenches as he wipes the blood from his hands, his breathing still ragged and posture rigid, itching for a fight. He glances over at you, his expression softer but still rough. 

“We’re done here,” he growls, but his voice soft, more broken than angry. 

Logan turns without another word and all you can do is watch him leave.

+++

You spend the rest of the morning dozing in bursts of fitful sleep, your confrontation with Logan taking its emotional toll. Your eyes burn with unshed tears and for the first time in your life, you feel as if you’re destined to wander this universe alone. 

But you can’t think about it. 

Not now. 

Ignoring the ache in your limbs, you pack up what supplies you can and ready yourself for the walk back to your cabin. The sun is a couple of hours from setting, the world bathed in golden light, when you set out. Walking down the steps, you pause at the distant crunch of boots on the gravel. You feel your pulse thrum in your chest as the sound gets closer and then he steps into view, his eyes locking onto yours. 

Logan. 

The sight of him standing there fills you with a rush of conflicting emotions. Relief, angry, anxiety and you’re not sure if you trust yourself to speak first. He looks the same—tired, disheveled, but steady and strong all the same. Neither of you moves, unspoken words hanging between you.

“I shouldn’t’ve left,” he says finally. 

For a moment you say nothing. Because it’s exactly what you want to hear from him. Except, because you’re beyond exhausted, mentally, physically and emotionally, you say, “No, you fucking shouldn’t have.” 

There’s definitely more bite in your tone than you intended, but the release of some of your pent up anger feels so good you can’t bring yourself to care. 

Logan’s eyes narrow as you move past him and keep walking. “Wait, so I come back here to apologize,” he begins, following close behind you, “and now you’re gonna just walk away?”

“You know, you never even thanked me for saving your ass,” you say, side stepping a downed log. “Just started demanding answers and then tucked tail and ran when you didn’t like what I had to say.”

He grabs your wrist and you stumble into his grasp, your breath hitching in your throat as you stand almost chest to chest. “I didn’t fucking ask for any of this!”

His anger bleeds into you, curling around your skin where his fingers press into your pulse point. You feel your nostrils flare and you’re itching for something to hit as you stare up at him, his jaw clenched. Your heart pounds wildly in your chest and you know you need to reign in your emotions or you’ll ignite the fuse between you. 

“You think I did?” you ask, pulling your arm from his grasp. Your voice is calmer, but just as sharp. “You think I want to relive the grief of mourning you over and over while also finding something new to love about you? You think I wanted to be banished to the Void all because my soul just can’t die when I do?”

Logan’s expression softens and he scrubs a hand down his face, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Look. I’ve had a shitty coupla days here. And you’re saying a lot of shit I don’t understand.”

He seems weary, then, and any remaining anger you harbor towards him dies in your veins. You take a deep breath in and blow it out slowly. “You don’t have to understand right now. Just—just trust me. Please?”

You hate how your voice breaks just a little.

Logan nods then, the barest tilt of his head, but it’s enough.

He continues to follow you through the woods back towards the cabin and for a while neither of you speak. It should feel awkward, especially now, but it doesn’t. You’re so used to his brand of stubbornness and reluctance to see what’s right in his face that this is the most at home you’ve felt since you got here. 

“So,” you start after a few minutes of silence, “how did you end up here?”

Logan huffs. “Some asshole in red spandex dragged me here and I said I need to help save his universe.”

“And can you?”

His step falters and you pause to look a him, his gaze fixed somewhere beyond the trees. “I couldn’t save mine.” The weight of his words linger, heavy with a burden only he alone has been shouldering. He doesn’t meet your eyes as he brushes past you and keeps walking. 

“Wanna talk about it?” you ask, catching up with him.

Logan growls. “No.”

“Alright, maybe later then,” you reply and he simply ignores you and keeps on walking. “Where’s this asshole friend of yours?”

“I left him tied up in the van.”

You had long passed the spot where you found Logan by the beat up van and the road was deserted. Based on the subtle smirk on his face, you figure Logan already knows that. Whatever his relationship is with the stranger, he seems somewhat happy to be rid of him and you don’t push him further. Although, you can’t help but wonder what happened to the van and whose hands it fell into. 

Logan’s gait slows as the cabin comes into view through the trees. He follows behind you as you clear the space, checking for any stragglers that may have come along while you were gone. Pushing open the door, you watch as he looks around, taking in the small space. 

“You’ve been living here?”

“I wouldn’t exactly call it living, but sure,” you comment, throwing your backpack on the table as you sit down. You can’t help the groan that escapes your lips as your muscles relax. “You can stay here if you want. I didn’t just let you follow me for your sparkling personality, you know.”

Logan actually laughs at that as he sits down on the small couch. His face lightens up, eyes crinkling just a bit at the corners, and for the first time since you found him, he seems unburdened. A blossom of hope grows in your chest and you grasp onto it, holding tight to the one bit of light you’ve had in this month of darkness. 

“Thank you,” he says softly. 

You know he means for more than the offer to stay and you return his smile with one of your own. “You’re welcome.”

As the sun starts to dip below the horizon, you bring out some extra blankets and a couple of pillows and help Logan turn the couch into a makeshift bed. You turn to leave when you hear him ask, “You really find me in every universe?”

“Yes.”

“That sounds terrible.”

You give him a small smile as you lean against the doorframe to the bedroom. “Oh, it’s not all that bad. I get to fall in love with you all over again.”

+++

You wake in the middle of the night to the sound of low, panicked growls coming from across the room.

You quietly slip from the bed and tiptoe towards the couch. Logan writhes beneath the sheets, pain etched across his face as he wrestles the demons in his sleeping mind. Taking a deep breath, you center yourself and focus every fiber of your power in his direction, hoping the waves of calm can break through whatever battle he’s fighting deep in the recesses of his mind.

Logan growls deep in his throat, the sound guttural and raw, his claws unsheathing and tearing at the sheets beneath him in agitation. A fine sheen of sweat beads along his brow and pieces of hair are plastered against his damp forehead.

“Logan,” you say softly, trying to break through the fog of his nightmare. “You’re safe, Logan.”

Your powers are waning, the stress of fighting off Alioth having left you depleted. You push down the ache, the tug in your brain demanding that you draw back, and instead kneel down in front of him, trailing your fingers across his palm and over the pulse point in his wrist. He jerks at your touch, his claws coming close to your skin, but the contact is enough and you feel his pulse slow beneath your fingertips.

You continue to speak in hushed tones, your voice barely above a whisper. “There you go, Logan. I’m right here. I’ve got you.”

Logan’s breathing is ragged, his eyes squeezed shut. You can feel the tension in his body, his muscles rigid with the need for release. You keep your fingers against his wrist, your touch steady and calming, as you bring up your other hand to smooth the lines along his brow.

“There you go,” you continue to murmur, “Focus on my voice. Focus on my calm.”

Gradually, his growls subside and his breathing begins to even out as the nightmare loses its grip over him. His muscles lose their tension and relax and the frantic movements of his limbs subsides. With one final deep breath, he stills, his claws retracting and he settles back into a peaceful sleep.

You sit and watch him for a minute, taking in all of his features and simply admiring him for the first time since your last life with him. This Logan is different—they all are in their own way—but this one a little more than the others. He seems wearier, more worn down, his usual scowl lines etched deep. There’s an exhaustion in his eyes, too, you haven’t seen before and you wonder if this Logan actually ever rests. 

As you stand, you feel his fingers circle loosely around your wrist and give a small tug. You look down to where he’s touching you, his skin hot against yours, and you glance up to find him staring at you through half lidded eyes. 

“Stay.” It comes out in a low whisper and as you open your mouth to protest, he adds, “Please.”

You could never deny him in any universe.

The couch is barely wider than he is, yet he shifts to make a sliver of space for you to slot yourself into. It should be awkward, the way you press yourself between the couch and the solid warmth of his frame, but it’s not. You hitch your leg over his hip, forcing your legs to tangle, as you rest your head against his chest. His heartbeat is strong and comforting beneath your ear and you find yourself quickly relaxing into his touch.

As you fall asleep, you feel his arm curl around you, tucking protectively against your ribs.

+++

When morning breaks, you’re alone. The warmth of his body is gone and you find yourself shivering. Pushing to sit, you wrap a blanket around yourself before standing up. 

The cabin is empty.

You try and ignore the sliver of panic that threatens to slip its way down your spine. 

Opening the front door, you pause when you find him sitting on the dilapidated porch, staring absently out at the trees. He glances up at you and watches as you sit down beside him. You hug the blanket closer around your shoulders and sit with him in silence.

You don’t mention last night.

“So,” you start, “what’s the plan?”

Logan raises his eyebrow. “You planning on stickin’ with me?”

“If you let me,” you reply with a smile.

You listen as Logan explains the events of the past couple of days, including Wade’s abduction of him from his own universe and how they both became to be bloodied and battered in the van. Your ears perk up when he mentions Paradox and returning to Wade’s universe. 

“You think he can actually get back?” you ask, willing yourself to not hold onto too much hope. 

Logan huffs. “Probably not.” 

“And yet you’re out here trying to think of a way to find him,” you say. “Why?”

A frown tugs at Logan’s mouth and he looks down at his hands. Eventually, he reaches into the pocket of his suit and pulls out a crumpled Polaroid. He tilts it towards you and you look down at the group or smiling people. “He’s got something to go home to,” he says, thumbing the edge of the photo. “I got nothin’.”

There’s something soft in his gaze as he looks down at the photo, some lingering hope he’s too afraid to put words to. 

“I’m sure you have something, Logan,” you say quietly. 

His expression hardens then, jaw tightening, as he slips the photo back in his pocket. “Had. Past tense.” Logan stands then and looks down at you. “Get ready. We’re leaving in five.” 

+++

You get ready quickly, changing your clothes and splashing water on your face before making sure your pack was sufficiently stocked. You were hoping you wouldn’t be needing it for much longer, but you didn’t want to express that thought out loud. Despite Logan wishing to go back to find Wade, you knew he wasn’t convinced this would end well.

Logan’s already started down the path as you jog down the cabin steps, swinging your pack up onto your shoulders. Catching up with him, you hand him the Pop-Tart you pulled out earlier. “Breakfast? They’re unfrosted, because this is the Void, but it’s something.”

He looks down at you, a strange expression on his face, but he accepts your offer. “Thanks,” he says, taking a bite.

“So, where exactly were you headed when you both decided to maul each other silly?” you ask, keeping pace with him as you walk through the woods.

“Johnny had mentioned a resistance out in the Borderlands,” Logan answers, swallowing the bite of Pop-Tart. “Figured we might find some people who could help us get control over Cassandra.” 

You nod. “You’re not far from the Borderlands. Maybe four or so miles from he cache. I haven’t ventured out that far, but I’ve heard there’s a few outposts where others have hunkered down.”

“Then that’s where we go.”

You walk in comfortable silence, leaving Logan to his thoughts as you travel further away from safety and into the unknown. You stop at the cache briefly, pausing only snag a few water bottles before moving on. 

A couple of miles past the cache, Logan suddenly stops, sniffing the air. His posture goes rigid, on alert as he slowly moves forward, beckoning you to follow him. A few yards away, the beat up van comes into view, parked alongside a lodging that looks as if it was built into the very earth itself. 

Logan’s arm darts out, stopping you. “Stay close,” he commands quietly, stepping cautiously closer towards the structure.

You follow behind him, every sense on alert as you step inside. The place is quiet, but then you hear it—the soft rustle of snoring. And then Logan’s soft, “Ah, fuck me.”

Peering over his shoulder, you find a sleeping Wade spread eagle on the bed. Logan side steps the bed, ignoring the sleeping man, and begins rummaging through the place. Finding a bottle of whiskey, he groans in delight, twisting the cap off and taking a long pull. 

“Really Logan?”

He quirks an eyebrow at you, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. “What else would you like me to be doing?” he asks, biting. 

“You came all this way to find him and now you’re gonna just drink?” you ask in disbelief. It gnaws at you, his indifference. You can feel little frissons of indignation licking at your skin and you have to tamp down your emotions before they bleed into him. 

Logan shrugs. “He’s asleep. I ain’t draggin’ him anywhere.”

You cross your arms, glaring at Logan in frustration. “I didn’t follow you here to watch you stand around and get drunk. Wake him up.”

He gives you a sidelong glance, his brow furrowing. You don’t relent, your stare pointed as he takes another long pull from the bottle. Muttering to himself, Logan makes his way over to the bed and gives it one swift, forceful kick. 

Wade jolts awake with a loud, exaggerated snort. He looks between you and Logan, his eyes finally settling on you. “Who’re you?” he asks, looking around as if expecting an answer. “When did the script get rewritten?”

You look at him quizzically, your eyebrow raised. “Who are you talking to?”

Wade huffs. “The audience,“ he says, gesturing towards the wall.

“Does he do this often?” you ask Logan in a whisper.

“Hasn’t stopped since he fucking dragged me here,” Logan replies. 

Your attention is diverted as Wade suddenly rolls from he bed, crossing the room and two large strides. He unsheathes one of his katanas, pressing himself against the wall and then he’s pinned on the ground as a woman pulls a blade of her own. After a moment, she lets Wade up and two more people follow into the room behind her. 

Logan eyes each one with suspicion as introductions are made and you can feel the tension growing within him as he continues to drink.

You jump as Gambit uses one of his playing cards to burst the bottle of whiskey in Logan’s hands. Logan ignores your pleading look and Wade’s admonishment as he grabs another bottle with a soft, “Boo boo boo.”

When Laura enters, you feel Logan’s interest pique, something heavy weighing on him. They both look towards one another, taking each other in and you don’t miss the recognition in Laura’s eyes.

“Do you know her?” you ask Logan, sliding closer to him.

Logan shakes his head. “No. But Wade’s Logan does.” He takes another long drink from the bottle, eyes still trained on her.

Wade continues to talk with the group, recapping their time in the Void and how they managed to escape Cassandra’s lair. Logan punctuates the conversation with vitriolic quips of his own, drinking more as Wade tries to get the group to form a team.

You try to send your power Logan’s way, trying to bleed into him some calm, but he shakes his shoulders and brushes you off. “Don’t fucking bother, sweetheart.”

“I can help you, Logan.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t ask for it.”

As Wade rallies the group into a cohesive unit, gaining their support in taking down Cassandra, Logan huffs a bitter laugh. “You’re all fucking dead.”

“Oh, my god, read the room,” Wade chides. 

+++

Logan storms off, one bottle of whiskey fisted in each hand. You want to follow after him, but Wade stops you. “Let him go, cupcake. Peanut’s in a fragile state and you’re too pretty to become mincemeat.”

You shoot a glare at him and brush his hand away from your shoulder. “No, he only seems to sink his claws into you,” you bite back, but the anger leeches from your voice. 

“Spicy,” Wade comments, “I like you. The script editor worked overtime on you, I can tell.”

“Yeah, well the jury’s still out over here,” you say, but you can’t help the twitch of a smile tugging at your lips. 

You glance over at the door and feel Wade sidle up beside you. “Seriously, cupcake. Chasing after him is like trying to catch a raccoon with rabies. Might be fun, but it’s not worth the bite.”

“Oh yeah?” you ask, peering over at him, “And how long have you known him?”

Wade pretends to look down at his wrist and taps a non-existent watch. “Four days, six hours and thirty-two minutes,” he says with a smirk, “but I don’t really like to put a timestamp on friendship."

With a groan, you plop down on the bed and rub at your temples. “Is everything a joke with you?”

“Mostly,” he chirps with a grin. He leans back against the wall and crosses his arms as he watches you. “But I have been known to press pause occasionally.” Wade regards you for a moment, a slight tilt to his head. “Honey badger does it for you, huh?”

Sighing, you lay back on the bed and stare up at the ceiling. “I have followed Logan through millennia, Wade. I can’t remember a time anymore where I haven’t loved him.”

“His mutant dick that good, huh?”

You half laugh, half snort and shoot him a pointed look. “Not everything is about sex, Wade.”

“Agree to disagree,” he says with a shrug. “We’ve all got emotional baggage, mine is definitely over the free to fly limit, but that guy? Literal mountains. Centuries worth, even.”

“Exactly,” you say, sitting up. “I’ve helped him carry more than you can imagine. Logan may push people away, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t need someone to stay.”

Wade cocks his head, considering your words and his expression softens. “You know running after him isn’t going to fix him.”

“I’m not trying to fix him,” you reply. “He just needs to know someone is there for him.” 

“Well, it’s your funeral, cupcake,” he says with a sigh. “I promise I’ll give a really moving eulogy. But, I do think if anyone is gonna convince tall, dark and brooding out there to join us, it’s you.”

You give him a soft smile as you stand. “Thanks, Wade.”

“And just so you know,” he calls after you, “I’m open and willing to being your mutant dick rebound.”

You roll your eyes and walk out the door.

+++

You step outside and see Logan sitting by himself in front of a fire not too far from the lodging. Walking quietly, you stop when you see Laura approach him and sit along side him. You’re close enough that you can hear their words—hear Logan tell her about the suit, about how he found the X-Men, his friends, dead. 

The anger, the loathing, this Logan carries comes into focus and you can’t help but wonder how long he’s lived with this weight upon his shoulders. Suffering alone with only the bottom of a bottle to quiet the thoughts that scream in his mind.

As Laura eventually leaves, she catches your eye and gives you a small nod.

You feel a strange kinship with her. She too has memories of a Logan who no longer exists and who is radically different from the one she has now. You wonder what she’s thinking and have half a mind to follow after her when you hear Logan call out, “I know you’re there.”

You turn back towards where he remains sitting in front of the fire, the whiskey bottle now more than half gone. Closing the gap between you, you sit down alongside him and watch as he continues to stare down into the fading fire.

“How much did you hear?” he asks, taking a large swig from the bottle. 

“Enough,” you answer simply.

Logan grunts and takes a long pull from the bottle, his lips glistening as his swallows get sloppy. “Well, now you know. I’m the worst Logan,” he almost spits, his tone dark and bitter. “You drew the short straw with me, sweetheart.”

“You know I don’t think that,” you say softly. 

Logan doesn’t respond and instead finishes the rest of the whiskey, tossing the bottle somewhere behind him. Scrubbing a hand down his face, he looks over at you. “You actually gonna join them tomorrow?”

“Are you?”

“It’s a fucking suicide mission,” he answers. “You want to walk up to your death, be my guest.”

“If you’re so convinced this is a suicide mission, why don’t you want to go?” you counter, his ire beginning to bleed into the space between you and creep uncomfortably along your skin. “You afraid you might come face to face with actual death and realize that’s not really what you want?” 

Logan’s gaze flicks up to your face, his eyes dark, dangerous. “You’re fucking pushin’ it.”

“Good! Someone fucking should be!” you exclaim, standing from the fallen log. Maybe Wade was right—maybe this was futile. In every universe Logan could be a stubborn ass, but this one was particularly obstinate. “Do you really believe you’re so unredeemable, Logan? That you’re just a vile mutant who doesn’t deserve sympathy after his friends were brutally murdered?”

You can feel his rage boiling just under the surface of the thin veneer of calm. His eyes pierce into you, pinning you in place as he stands to his full height, his fists clenched tightly. 

“You don’t know shit about me, sweetheart,” he growls. 

Anger simmers in your veins, threatening to burn you from the inside out. “Oh fuck you, Logan.”

He takes a step closer, his eyes narrowing as his lips curl into a cruel smile. “Yeah, you’d like that wouldn’t you? Me sinking into your cunt while you picture whatever version of me you think I am.” His voice is a low rumble, adding to the tension threatening to suffocate you. 

Your breath catches in your throat at his words, and it isn’t desire that courses through you, but rage. Your skin prickles and his vitriol ignites something deep within you, something hotter and brighter than you’ve ever felt before. 

“After all this time and everything I’ve told you, you honestly believe that’s all I want from you? You’re a fucking pathetic asshole,” you snap, your voice sharp and laced with venom. 

Logan’s expression darkens, the smirk slipping from his face as his jaw clenches. “You got some balls sayin’ that shit to me,” he spits. 

A small part of you is terrified of him, afraid that he might actually snap. Might actually unsheathe his claws and send you onto your next life without ever having truly lived this one. But you know him, you know him. His pain and rage isn’t towards you, but himself. 

You risk a step closer to him, narrowing the space between you and you can feel the heat radiating off of him, mingling with your own fury. “Yeah, well at least one of us has a pair.”

Logan doesn’t have time to react before you channel your powers towards him, unleashing an explosive burst of energy that sends him staggering back. And then you smother him, smother him in thousands of years of memories, thousands of years of every single feeling you had ever felt for him in every universe you’ve known him. 

The weight of your emotional onslaught brings him to his knees, but you keep pushing, switching from your feelings for him to his feelings for you. All the affection, all the love, all the comfort the two of you shared in every version of your coupling across space and time floods his mind. 

You watch as his expression melts from anger into one of overwhelming vulnerability and pain. His hands, still clenched into fists, tremble beneath the weight of your power surging through him. He looks up at you then, his eyes pleading and your resolve breaks. Tears burn in your eyes and trail down your cheeks, wetting your lips as a scream rips from your lungs.  

Your hold on Logan dissipates as you reign your emotions back under control. You stagger on your feet as your power diminishes, your chest heaving with ragged breaths and broken sobs. You can’t look at him, not yet. If you do, you might actually break. So you do something that you never thought you would do—you leave.

+++

Night in the Void is cool, almost bordering on uncomfortable like everything else in this godforsaken place, but for once it doesn’t bother you. You gaze up at the sky, the haze of distant stars and planets blurring together the more you try and focus on just one. 

You’ve always loved looking at the stars. There was a comfort in knowing you could look up at the sky and see the same constellations in every universe, that there was always one constant among all the variables. 

You don’t know how long you’ve been sitting before you hear the crunch of his boots on the earth, dried leaves and twigs snapping under his heel. Logan joins you on the ground, sitting with a heavy sigh. The maelstrom of emotions swirling within him bleeds into the space between you and you can feel it, thick and heavy and suffocating. 

You risk a glance at him and he looks…defeated. His eyes are red-rimmed and raw and you see something in those hazel eyes you rarely see—fear. Not fear at you, although your guilt would rather have you believe that, but fear of himself, fear of feeling what you’ve shown him. Logan’s breath is slow, controlled, but you can hear the slight tremor in it. 

“I promised myself I would never use my powers on you” you start, your voice barely above a whisper. “I know what it feels like to experience that onslaught. It feels like drowning.” Your voice cracks and you fight to keep the guilt burning in your chest from consuming you whole. “And that was just a fraction of what we’ve felt across lifetimes, Logan.” 

Logan stays silent but gazes at your face, eyes flicking across your features, drinking you in. The scrutiny makes you shiver. Before you isn’t The Wolverine, the X-Man people in his universe loathe, but a man left raw and vulnerable. 

“You shouldn’t have done that,” he says slowly, his voice rough as the words are pulled from him. “You shouldn’t have shown me that.”

You flinch, the weight of his words are a punch to your gut. “I know,” you whisper, wiping tears from your eyes. “I know and I’m sorry, I—”

Logan cuts you off with a shake of his head, his eyes now locked onto yours. “I already knew, sweetheart,”he murmurs, his voice low. “You feel like—you feel like home.” 

Your heart stutters in your chest and for a moment you can’t breathe. The words hang between you, heavy and raw, the sound of them something you’ve been craving to hear. 

“I am your home,” you reply softly. 

Logan shifts beside you, closing the space between you as he slips his hand behind your neck and pulls you in. His mouth crashes to yours, his kiss urgent, rough and desperate. 

You reach for him, gripping his shoulders as you kiss him back, the Void slipping away. There’s only the heat of his mouth, the rough scrape of his beard against your skin, the way his other hand tugs at your waist in an attempt to pull you closer. 

It’s messy and intense and you don’t want it to end. Logan kisses you like a man starved, like you’re his last breath of air. 

A whimper falls from your lips as he finally breaks the kiss, resting his forehead against yours. You’re both breathless, his nose softly nudging yours. 

“Please come with us tomorrow,” you whisper against his skin. “Let me take you home.”

He nods once and that’s all you need. 

+++

The morning comes quicker than anyone would like. 

Nervous energy bleeds through the group, everyone knowing they’re on the precipice of life or death, that this may be the last day they ever inhale air into their lungs or feel the warmth of the sun on their skin.

Logan’s quiet, already tucking into Gambit’s liquor, as you sit down beside him. He looks down at you briefly, taking a long long pull before offering you the bottle. You take it from him and take a swig of your own, the amber liquid burning a path down your throat. 

“What are you thinking?” you ask, handing him back the bottle.

He stares down at his feet, swirling the liquid around in the glass. “I honestly don’t even fuckin’ know.”

You reach for his hand and give him a comforting squeeze. He stares down at you for a moment and then drags his gaze up to your face. “Whatever happens Logan, I’ll be right there with you.”

Final preparations complete, everyone piles into the van, you tucking alongside Logan in the hatchback. The ride is mostly quiet, punctuated only with the few occasional quips by Wade just to ease the tension. You brace yourself, gripping Logan’s calf as Blade sends a rocket launcher through Cassandra’s front gate and Elektra floors it through the explosion. 

The others leave the van first, forming a line of defense. You look up at Logan and lean forward to press the faintest of kisses against his lips. His fingers curl around your neck and pull you closer, deepening it just enough to taste your mouth. 

“Let’s go,” he murmurs, pulling back. “Stay by me.”

You swallow hard, loathe to let him go, wanting to stay in the perceived safety of the van, but you simply nod and follow him to join the others.

Fighting erupts all around you and you stick as close to Logan’s back as you can. It’s a symphony of chaos—rage, fear and determination all swirling heavily in the air. You feel your power thrum underneath your fingertips as you channel those emotions back towards whoever Logan is fighting, hoping to disarm them—even if temporarily—with their own vitriol in an attempt to give him an advantage. 

The air burns in your lungs as you move through the fight, your mind spinning as you gain distance towards Cassandra’s lair. You can see the others move around you—Elektra and Blade slicing down enemies with their blades; Gambit disarming others with his explosively charged playing cards; Laura fighting in a style all her own, yet so much like Logan’s; and Wade cutting down others like he’s having fun.

A clear path opens up to the ramp leading up to Cassandra and the others swarm behind you, allowing yourself, Wade and Logan to break free from the melee. Logan looks back at you just long enough for you to see the fear in his eyes. You try and remain stoic, even though your mind is racing with all he the ways this could go wrong, and give him a small nod of encouragement. 

You stop short in front of Cassandra as she sits sipping tea, seemingly disinterested in the battle happening just outside her stronghold. “You two escaping I could live with, but coming back willingly…” she trails off, “Boys are so silly.” Her eyes dart towards you. “And you brought a friend!”

“I just need to get home,” Wade says, his tone serious. 

“I’m afraid that’s not an option.”

Cassandra flicks Wade aside effortlessly and Logan’s instantly on alert, claws extended at his side. You attempt to direct your powers at her, trying to defuse the anger simmering below her surface. She rolls her neck and glances at you, intrigue in her eyes. 

“Oh, aren’t you interesting,” she says, effortlessly flicking your powers aside. “I wonder what treats you have hiding in that mind of yours.”

Cassandra steps closer to you, her calculating stare flicking over your face. She lifts one hand up to you and from behind her, Logan growls and moves to attack. You watch, powerless, as she pins Logan to the ground with his own claws. 

She tsks and looks down at him, “That’s enough out of you.”

And then, she’s in your mind, every nerve ending in your body on fire, ready to consume you whole. 

You’re standing in a library, Cassandra at your side. Shelves extend as far as the eye can see, fading into an infinite distance. You walk aimlessly along the shelves, pausing at the entrance of a room simply titled “Logan”. 

“Oh, now this is something,” you hear Cassandra say from beside you. “This is quite the collection you have.”

Your fingers reach out and touch the spines, the briefest flickers of memories emanating from their covers. “I’ve known him for so long,” you murmur. “Been with him through so much.”

You pause in front of one book, the urge to open it nearly overwhelming. Pulling it from the shelf, the pages flutter open and you gasp, the memories of that life flooding your brain. 

You and Logan were married in this life. He worked a simple job, construction. There were no X-men, no missions, no danger. He kept his mutation a secret, showing only you when the memories got too rough, too unmanageable. You were his anchor. You had two kids—girls. And oh, how he loved them. Both of them wrapped effortlessly around his heart from before they were even born.

Tears spring to your eyes as the warmth of those memories flood through you. “I loved that life,” you whisper, putting the book back on the shelf.

“And who wouldn’t?” Cassandra agrees, placing her hand on your shoulder. “So effortless his love for you. So different from now.”

You glance over at her, confusion drawn on your face. False empathy tugs at Cassandra’s sympathetic smile. “Are you even sure he cares for you now? This Logan is so broken, more broken and unloveable than all these other Logans, hm?”

Shaking your head, you try to resist her efforts to batter you, to convince you your soul’s purpose is not worth it. Not worth him. “That’s not true. They’re all worthy. All capable and deserving of love,” you say, your fingers trailing along another spine. “Even this one. Especially this one.”

Cassandra’s face contorts then and…

She’s wrenched from your mind and you fall to your knees, blinking up as you see Wade holding Cassandra from behind, one hand holding Jaggernaut’s helmet to her head. 

Your mind still spins as Logan and Wade confront her, their conversation a jumble in your mind. But you don’t miss her saying either they kill her, or she kills them. Finding the strength to stand, you rise and place your hand on Wade’s arm.

“If I stay,” you start, focusing only on Cassandra and ignoring the press of Logan’s gaze into your skin, “Will you let them go?”

Logan reaches for you and you pull your gaze from Cassandra long enough to press your palm against this chest. You meet his eyes, silently pleading with him to let you continue. 

“Will you?” you repeat, unable to keep the pleading out of your tone.

Cassandra laughs bitterly. “You love him that much? To sacrifice yourself to save him? That Logan, out of all of them?”

You nod, feeling the tears burn in your eyes. “I love him that much,” you reply softly.

Logan grabs your hand then, forcing you to look at him. “Don’t,” he chokes out, voice thick with unspoken emotion, “Don’t do this.”

You smile softly as you reach up and cup his cheek, his beard rough against your palm. You don’t miss the way he briefly nuzzles into your touch, eyes fluttering shut as he sighs. “I love you, Logan. In all my lives, in this one and in the next one, too.” The first tear slips down your cheek as you look up at him. “I promise I’ll find you again, Logan. I always do.”

You press a kiss to his mouth, soft and gentle. It lingers for a moment, a desperate, bittersweet exchange as Logan tries to memorize the feel of you. His hands grip your waist, clutching almost hard enough to bruise, but you relish the pain. 

Wade stands beside you both, uncharacteristically silent, his hands still holding Cassandra in place. His usual banter is gone, the weight of the moment not lost on him. “This is the worst fucking idea anyone has ever had,” he mutters, but his tone is soft. “And I’ve had some pretty terrible ideas.”

Cassandra regards you with a mixture of amusement and curiosity. “If I let them go, you’ll stay here with me in the Void. Be my ally.”

You nod, “Yes.”

Cassandra’s eyes narrow, calculating, weighing her options. Finally she sighs, “Fine. But you know…no one will remember this little sacrifice of yours. The next Logan won’t even know you.”

Logan growls and you squeeze his hand in gentle reassurance. “It’s okay,” you whisper, your voice finally breaking. “I’ll remember enough for the both of us.”

You step away from Logan, your heart shattering with every step. Wade lets go of Cassandra and you feel the weight of your decision settle heavily against your shoulders. 

Cassandra pulls something from her pocket, slipping it onto her fingers. Before you, a portal opens up, just outside the boundaries of the room. Outside, the raging storm that is Alioth grows near and in that moment, you realize Cassandra was playing a game of her own.

“I figure,” she says, straightening the lapels of her jacket, “that they have approximately four seconds before they’re through.”

Your eyes flick to Logan and you memorize every detail, every emotion written across his face. With one final nod, he tears his gaze from you and he runs towards the portal, Wade alongside him.

And then, darkness consumes all.

+++

You’re unsure how long you’ve been out. The last thing you remember was Alioth screaming towards you, giving you barely enough time to cocoon yourself from his rage.

Cassandra is gone.

Wade is gone.

And Logan—Logan is gone.

You open your eyes and find Remy standing above you. He offers you his hand and helps you to stand. “C’mon, chère,” he says, nodding towards the open portal behind him, “Let’s go home.”

You’re not sure where home is any more, not without Logan, but you don’t have the strength to argue. From the moment you wound up here in the Void, you’ve been looking for a way out. Now that you have one, you know you need to take it. 

Accepting Remy’s hand, you join him through the portal.

You stumble into a familiar room and are greeted warmly by a smiling TVA agent. She’s unlike the first TVA agent you met, her presence comforting as she says your name. “We heard you’ve had quite the adventure.” She looks over towards Remy. “Mr. LeBeau, if you’ll follow this agent here.”

Remy leaves with he other agent, turning towards you with a wink. “Enjoy your man for me, yeah?”

Your heart flutters in your chest and you look towards the agent, trying to suppress the hope you feel in your chest. She smiles and rests a comforting hand on your shoulder. From her pocket she pulls out a small device, pressing a few buttons on the pad. Before you a different portal opens and she gestures towards it.

“Welcome home.”

+++

You stand in front of the apartment door and hesitate before knocking. Your nerves flutter uncomfortably in your belly even though it’s been less than two days since you last saw Logan in the Void. But you’re out now—you both are—and the fear nags at you that maybe this isn’t what he wants. That you aren’t what he wants. 

You stuff that thought down with a shake of your head. Raising your hand, you rap against the door three times and let out a shaky breath. When he opens the door, you feel as if the air has left your lungs and you forget to breathe. Your heart aches at the sight of him. 

Logan stops short, his face falling into one of pure disbelief and all he can do is stare at you.

“Is that my stripper?” you hear Wade call from farther into the apartment. Logan continues to stare at you as Wade pops up behind him, his face lighting up in surprise. “Oh, hey cupcake! Didn’t expect to—“

“Get out,” Logan growls, turning his head slightly in Wade’s direction, his eyes never leaving yours. 

From over Logan’s shoulder, Wade wiggles his eyebrows. “Ah, looking for some afternoon delight?” he coos, slinging his arm over Logan’s shoulder and patting his chest. “This guy has been jerkin’ it constan—“

You hear the sknit of Logan’s claws as they unsheathe into Wade’s thighs. “Ah, fuck! Fuck!” Wade curses. “You’re supposed to be penetrating her, not me!”

“Get. Out,” Logan repeats, retracting his claws. 

“Fine.” Wade pushes past Logan’s frame, limping slightly as his wounds heal themselves. “You’re lucky Blind Al’s already out playing Bingo. Or selling herself for blow. I don’t actually know her schedule,” he comments as he walks down the hallway. “Glad you’re home, cupcake.”

Logan barely waits until Wade is out of sight before tugging at the hem of your shirt and pulling you towards him. Your gasp dies on your lips as he drags you inside, shutting the door with his foot and pushing you up against the rough wood. Then his mouth is on yours and it’s warm and wet and wonderful. 

His hands cup your face, fingers moving to tangle in your hair and you feel him everywhere. You whine as he nips lightly at your chin before trailing his lips back up your jaw, licking into your mouth as he kisses you deep. 

Your fingers scramble for purchase, fisting themselves into the fabric of his button-down flannel. 

There’s a desperation and urgency bleeding from him, as if he can’t drink you in fast enough, or hard enough, or long enough to satiate the longing that’s within him. And you’re feeling it too, an ache growing deeper in your belly, a need to be consumed by him fully and you whine into his mouth because he’s not nearly close enough to you.

A thigh slips between your legs as he kisses along your jaw and down the column of your throat, a moan falling from your lips as you greedily seek friction. 

“I can’t believe you’re here,” Logan husks against your shoulder, pulling your hips harder against his clothed thigh. 

Your hands cup the sides of his face, your fingers scratching lightly against his beard. You force him to look at you, his pupils blown wide. “I always come to you,” you say softly. “I always come home.”

He kisses you softly then, his mouth slow over yours and he drops his thigh from between your leg. You whine at the loss and he pulls back. “C’mere,” he says, grabbing your hand and leading you further into he apartment. “I’m not fucking you for the first time against a door.”

You follow him to the bedroom, your chest heaving with ragged breaths and you can feel the prickle of anticipation along your spine as he turns back to look at you. His eyes never leave yours as he shrugs off the flannel and pulls his t-shirt over his head. Your eyes trace the lines of his chest, the strong definition of his muscles, following the line of hair that leads to the top of his jeans. As you bite your lip, you hear his chuckle, “My eyes are up here.”

“Mmm, yeah they are,” you start, tugging your shirt off and shimmying your pants over your hips, “but the view down there is nice, too.”

Logan reaches for you, his large hands skimming over your hips, over the flesh of your ass and under your thighs, lifting you up and forcing your to wrap your legs around his waist. With an easy flick of his fingers, he’s unclasped your bra and you toss it aside with the rest of your clothes. 

Kneeling on the bed, he lays you down, kissing his way down your stomach, his nose nuzzling along the top of your panties. “Do you have any fucking idea how sweet you smell?” His mouth is hot against your skin and he laughs as you tilt your hips up towards him. “You want me to fuck you with my tongue? Lap at you until you’re seeing stars?”

Molten desire shoots down your spine and you can feel the slick between your thighs. God, the mouth on him was going to be the death of you. 

You prop yourself up onto your elbows and look down at him. “Just fucking touch me already,” you whine, and you hate how desperate you sound. “Haven’t we waited long enough?”

He presses a wet, open mouthed kiss to your inner thigh before dragging his nose along the center of your clothed cunt. You inhale sharply as he kisses over your clit before trailing his fingers along your hip bones and pulling the fabric down. His warm hands palm along your thighs and he opens you up, staring down at you with hunger in his eyes. And then his mouth is on you, his tongue licking a hot stripe through your folds before sucking your clit into his mouth. 

“Oh, fuck,” you moan as his mouth continues to lap at you, pleasure tingling low in your belly and spreading through your limbs.

Logan hums. “Sweetest pussy I’ve ever tasted, sweetheart.” His tongue dips down, collecting the arousal at your entrance. “I could die happy between these thighs.”

You trail your hands down over your chest, briefly palming each breast before you continue down and sink your fingers into Logan’s hair. His groan rumbles through you and you don’t miss the way his hips start to rut against the mattress, seeking friction. 

His mouth and tongue continue to move over you, long, slow licks punctuated by gentle sucks and flicks over your clit and you can’t stop the grind of your hips against his face. You feel his smirk against you as one thick finger finally sinks inside your walls, nudging that spot deep inside that makes you squirm.

Another finger slips inside you and a low whine spills from your lips. 

“You’re beautiful like this, you know that,” he says, voice rough, thumb replacing his tongue against your clit as his fingers continue pumping. “All blissed out and needy and desperate to come on my fingers.”

His words zip through you as he fuck you with his hand and you bite your lip. “C’mon,” he purrs, “let me hear all those pretty sounds you make.”

Soft whimpers spill from your throat as he continues to work you, that pull in your lower belly growing stronger and stronger. His hand never stilling, he kisses his way up your body, pulling a nipple into his mouth and then you’re coming, cunt clenching around his fingers. 

Logan licks into your mouth to steal your cries as he continues to work you through your orgasm. Your thighs clamp around his forearm, the pleasure overwhelming. 

He finally stills, pulling his fingers from you and you whimper at the loss. You watch through half lidded eyes as he licks his fingers clean of your slick and you feel that flame reignite in your belly. 

“Take your pants off,” you demand, breathless, pushing at his chest. 

Logan laughs, but allows you to push him onto his back. “You always so bossy after you come?”

You fumble at his belt, undoing his buckle and unzipping his jeans before shoving them down his hips. “Make me do it again and find out,” you taunt as his cock springs free.

He kicks his pants the rest of the way off and you sit back on your heels and admire him for a moment. Your eyes trail from his broad shoulders, down the contours of his chest and follow that line of hair down his stomach to between his thighs, where his cock stands, thick and ready. 

“I will never get tired of looking at you,” you sigh, raking your nails down his thighs, deliberately not touching him where you know he wants it the most. “You’re so beautiful, Logan.”

Whatever response he has, dies in his throat as you finally wrap your hand around his cock, giving him one long, firm stroke. He’s hot and heavy and you’re aching to feel him inside you. But not yet. Leaning down, your eyes meet his and you trace your tongue along the underside of his cock, tasting the salt on his skin.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Logan curses, unable to stop the thrust of his hips, chasing your mouth. 

You wrap your lips around the head, swirling your tongue over the slit and collecting the precum there before taking as much of him in your mouth as you can. Logan hisses through his teeth, fingers winding their way into your hair to help guide your movements. 

“You’re so warm and wet, sweetheart,” he groans. “But I don’t want to come in your mouth.”

You give him one last stroke as you release him from your mouth and climb up to sit on his thighs. Logan pulls you forward by your hips and you gasp as your cunt slides across his cock. 

“Line me up,” he instructs and you obey without hesitation. 

Gripping him in your hand, you guide him to your entrance, notching him inside before slowly sinking down atop him. A sob chokes in your throat at the thick feel of him inside you, stretching you, making you feel complete. Your entire existence boils down to where he’s joined with you and you relish the burn.

His hands are everywhere as you start to move, caressing your thighs, your hips, up to your breasts and back down, tracing a map on your skin only his fingers can read. Praise falls from his lips in an almost nonstop litany, telling you how wet you are, how tight, how warm, how good you’re making him feel.

“Do you want to know how you make me feel?” you ask, breathless. You look down at him through half lidded eyes and find him just as flushed and wanton as you. “How you’ve always made me feel?”

You continue to rock back and forth on his cock, slow, deliberate movements that leave you wanting, needing more. Logan shifts his hips and finds the leverage to fuck up into you, the deep drag of his cock against your walls making you throw your head back and moan. 

“Fuck,” he growls, his fingers sinking deeper into the flesh of your hips, pulling you somehow impossibly closer. “Show me, sweetheart.” 

You brace your hands against his chest, raking your fingers through the damp hair there, feeling his heart beat beneath your palms. Leaning down, you capture his mouth with yours, the kiss sloppy as he continues to thrust up into you. You move your hands up his neck, your fingers collecting the sweat along his jaw and then, “Feel, Logan.”

It starts slow, an almost faint heat spreading from your fingertips as they ghost over his skin, your power beginning to pulse in time with your heartbeat. Logan gasps and his rhythm falters as the first wave of emotion hits him. You slow, too, your hips barely moving as you run your fingers down from his jaw, over the column of his throat and back to his chest. 

Your palms rest against his ribs as you continue to pour into him all the love and passion he’s ever shown you over centuries. Logan stares up at you in reverence, his face soft as he runs his hands up your sides, over your breasts. He tugs you down towards him, his mouth hovering over yours.

“Do you feel, Logan,” you ask, your breath hot against his lips. “Do you feel how much you love you have in you?”

He draws your bottom lip into his mouth, biting softly once, before capturing your mouth fully, kissing you deep. You hum as his tongue swipes against yours and his fingers tangle in your hair. 

A gasp pulls from your throat as Logan wraps his arms around you and flips your position, forcing your legs around his waist as he begins to thrust into you again in earnest. You feel him deep in this position, each thrust of his cock against your walls hitting that perfect spot inside of you. 

“It’s too much,” he groans into your skin. “Never…never felt like this.”

You rake your nails along his back, relishing in the growl that falls from this throat. “It always feels like this,” you gasp, drawing your power back. 

His arms slide under your shoulders, anchoring you in place as his hips continue to thrust into you. It’s lewd almost, the slapping of skin against skin and the wet noises from where you’re joined. His breath is hot and damp against your skin where his mouth hovers over the pulse point in your neck. 

Your fingers snake into the short strands of hair at the back of his neck and your other hand slips in between your bodies, reaching for your clit. 

“That’s it,” he moans, “use those fingers to get yourself off on my cock.”

You can feel where he’s sliding thickly into your cunt, the wiry hairs at the base of his cock damp with your arousal, and you begin to rub in time with his thrusts. Pleasure zips along your spine, every cell in your body afire at his touch. You feel that telltale tug low in your belly and you know you’re not going to last much longer. 

He slides his hands down from your shoulders, following the curve of your spine, forcing you to arch your back. Taking the opportunity before him, he swirls his tongue over one nipple, then the other as he palms the flesh of your hips in his hands, angling your hips further up into his. A keening whine falls from your lips as he somehow thrusts deeper into you, making your legs shake. 

Logan nudges your hand away from your clit, replacing your fingers with his own as he pushes you closer and closer to the edge. His eyes are focused on the sight of his cock thrusting into you and the slick smeared across your thighs. 

“Logan,” you gasp, “I’m so close.”

“I know, sweetheart,” he rasps, dragging his gaze up to your face, “I got you. Takin’ me so well, so tight. Gonna spend the rest of my life tellin’ you how fucking good you are.”

His words tip you over the edge, your orgasm rolling through you as you spasm down on his cock, his name falling from your lips. He fucks you through your orgasm, each thrust of his hips sending aftershocks of pleasure along your limbs as he chases his own release. Logan’s thrusts grow erratic and you reach for him, grasping at his forearms, pulling him down to you. 

“Come for me, Logan,” you murmur in his ear. “I wanna feel you come.”

With one final thrust, he comes with a groan, forehead pressed against yours as he spills himself deep within you. You can feel cock spasm as he lazily thrusts through his orgasm, using your body to wring out the last of his pleasure. You hold him close, pressing open mouthed kisses to his jaw as he finally stills within you. 

Careful not to crush you, Logan pulls you to him as he rolls onto his side. He doesn’t pull out, tugging your leg over his hip to keep you close and full. 

You smile up at him, brushing the damp hair away from his forehead. He sighs at your touch, a content sound that tugs at your heart. 

“You really love me in every universe?” he asks softly, brushing his nose against yours. 

“Yes.”

“Even this one?”

“Especially this one.” 

You don’t know what the rest of this life holds, but you do know one thing—wherever he goes, you’ll be right there with him. 

[postcardsfromheapside]

Lol, friends if you weren't there for the Astarion discourse, I am so happy for you.

People were most often upset over the idea of being poly with Halsin, because they wanted and did project onto Astarion that he is unable to say no to Tav for fear of losing them (not only is he perfectly genuine about having an open relationship, but by Act 3 he is fully capable of saying no, even if he's just being a silly shit about something and doesn't actually mean it). The conversations about how “I would never cheat on him!” (ethical non-monogamy is not cheating) bleeding into “he doesn't actually like sex!” (not really relevant to the ENM, and certainly something we can discuss, but seems like you're upset at the idea HE might want another partner) were ridiculous and turned dramatic.

On a spawnstarion route, there's also a dialogue route in the graveyard scene I think where you can discuss the possibility of things changing (implying your relationship) and he expresses he's no longer scared by the possibility. He would probably be sad if it did, but he no longer feels dependent on anyone, so he's no longer scared of what life has to hold. Y'all when I tell you I saw people lose their minds over this - they didn't want to think about Astarion independent and not needing them, not needing their blood, not needing their magical genitalia, their “love” to make him feel whole. I saw so many posts about how they can never not romance him because how can they leave him lonely, despite the fact that his unromanced spawn conversations in the epilogue is one of the most healing and powerful sequences I've ever been through. He literally fixes himself. He makes himself happy, despite having severe limitations on his living experience. He becomes a *hero*. All on his own. And they can't stand it.

Astarion is the perfect vehicle for folks to lay the fantasy of a codependent relationship over, just as Lucanis is the perfect fantasy for them to “fix” an actually very nice guy who arrives with a “bad boy twin” with whom they can pretend to have a threesome.

I'm not against people working their fantasies or issues out through video games at all, I only get irritated when those things become externalized in the form of racism, misogyny, queerphobia, etc, which we see a lot in how people express their feelings about other characters, or how they frequently pattern their feelings onto the VA's.

If you feel the need to hide a pixel man away from a pixel woman, when both are programmed not to get together if you lock in the relationship with either one, at that point you actually need to get help. But more generally, feeling jealous because someone you are interested in has a life and friends and even crushes outside of “you” is something you should talk about with a qualified professional.

[anxiousapplepie]

Mayhaps may I ask about lapis

Like

Fun facts

You mayhaps get some Fun Facts about Lapis! She has a little sister who uses a taser gun like a magic wand (much to the chagrin of their father) And Lapis was part of a LARPing group before she tripped into the RK world

[shiningmystic]

Welcome to the little space I created for you singles to see what's coming next in love! I hope this finds you before valentines day and always be open to the possibilities that the world has. I am an energy reader and will use the energy you are giving off now to see what you are attracting into your future. Prediction readings are not a guarantee especially with energy shifts so be open and to see what comes up. Enjoy the reading? I have a small shop on Ko-fi that you can order another reading from to support me. Check pinned post for all about me as a reader!

Ko-Fi I Shmfeedback I Pinned Post

This reading is for 17 year olds and older! Minors DO NOT INTERACT or assume this is an accurate reading for you!

Thank you for your support! I send luck in love your way <3

Theme Song: Die with a Smile by Lady gaga featuring Bruno mars

First Rose: Strength, Nine of Cups (rx), The Moon (rx), Five of Swords

Clarifying Cards: Queen of wands, nine of coins (rx)

For you my first rose I do see someone coming into your life but they might not be who you imagine. I see you hold onto a lot of past judgments from your previous relationships (familial or even romantic) these judgements towards yourself are projected onto others unintentionally. I see you using this defense mechanism for helpful moments but what you desire and what you truly want isn't fully aligned. I see your expectations are high and you may wonder why this person you have been manifesting isn't here. It may be because you aren't seeing the full picture or maybe you do and see to much of peoples flaws to let them in feeling like they are just not a right fit but you really don't know; many people are good at hiding there own true selves like how others are good at hiding there not so favorable traits.

There is a difference with having high expectations to choose the right person and those high expectations being used as a way of defense instead of being helpful. I'm NOT saying to lower your expectations or standards but there is this idea you continue to hold that hinders you from finding anyone that could fit your "list". Maybe there is a job or a certain requirement this partner should have to be before you accept them and everyone who may not meet those exact lines is out of your mind. I do not think this is shallow at all, I think your just doing it to not get hurt by someone that you previously have had to abide and cater to and you want to make this relationship more worth it. I see you have been patient and strong for yourself trying to choose the right one when the right one could be anyone; you do have to let go and trust when it comes to loving someone which is something I have to learn to. Trusting yourself that you will do everything in your power to leave if you choose the wrong one. Love isn't easy but it can be simpler with the right outlook. Your dream person will come along and maybe they will surprise you but pushing others away will only push that person away as well. I am also getting the message specifically for some of you that you are learning to trust yourself and that is beautiful yet you still hold onto judgments that make you feel like your can't trust yourself. Its funny how we can pick out insecurities of others because we are insecure of those flaws in ourselves.

I've said this on my blog many times "you are worthy of all good things happening even if you did nothing to 'earn' it." Take care of yourself and do physical things to build your confidence like getting a facial, exercise, start a new hobby; build yourself up and this person will pop into your life without you realizing it. Trust me, my sister found one of her soulmates when she was done with searching for a partner (after many many years of yearning for a true lover) and I am so happy for her.

Second Rose: Temperance (rx), The Fool (rx) Judgment (rx)

Clarifying Cards: Page of swords (rx), Four of wands

For you my second rose I see no one in particular coming into your love life for multiple reasons; I'm sorry to the singles who were really hoping for something soon but do not worry love can still come this is about the future after all. The future I say is always fluid which is why you can't really pinpoint certain things, just big themes and from there its up to us readers to interpret what is going on. For you my second lovely pile I see a reluctance. For some of you you have broken up with someone recently or have seen a relationship end very ugly so in your mind you have this understanding that you won't let any of that happen to you which leads me to this block that I feel in this spread. You're kinda like the first rose, you may need to reevaluate why you desire for a person; Is your life upside down and you desire peace? Has every relationship you have jumped into always surface level amazing and it ends up in a break up? The four of wands card is usually a marriage card but it can be seen as a setting of stability and finding a place of peace which may be what you truly seek at this time. I would like to say quickly that any reason is valid to desire deep love and to know you desiring a person has nothing to do with this block, it is just the approach to love that seems to hold you back and is a cycle that keeps repeating. The judgement reversed could also talk about you having a lot of self doubt and have someone on your mind but you have fear holding you still. If you have a person on your mind know that your fear is valid yet it shouldn't dictate your happiness and you won't keep sitting there asking "what if?"

Maybe your confidence is weak compared to your desire so when there may be a chance you may shy away. It's always about confidence and knowing your worth when it comes to attracting a person who will see you for you and if your ashamed of yourself? it will only hurt you and them especially if they like the you that you may judge harshly. I see many of you my second rose is that you are way better at connecting in person then online, that the internet may feel like the only way because of low self worth or confidence when you need more physical connection and communication. There is also a pressure on yourself for some of you, like you are running out of time; your soulmates and soul family are out there always so do not doubt the untouched potential within you and outside of you. This new beginning in love holds a lot of defensive energy like the first pile but I also hear, 'They wouldn't want me...who would see me as desirable?' but you are! we all are desirable to people and you would be shocked at how many people admire you. I also need to add that for some (maybe even all of you) have been working on this and I know its hard, just keep discovering and pushing. This is pretty general reading but I've seen horrible people find love so why can't you? (I'm referring to some of my family members who are married lmao) so reevaluate what love is to you and follow that love to find someone who aligns with that type of love. Don't deny your worth, you are lovable, you are worthy and you will find the courage to find the one.

Third Rose: Knight of Wands (rx), The Tower (rx), Page of Coins

Clarifying Cards: Ace of Coins, Two of Wands (rx), Nine of cups (rx)

For you my third rose I do see someone coming in and they are quite a lovely and rambunctious individual. I see you will love how they look and enjoy the fun side of them but I also see you learning a lot from this relationship. I sense a lot of stress going on and this person will lift a lot of it and give you perspective on love that you never would have witnessed before. I think you will not stay with this person (take that with a grain of salt because I hate saying that when things can change) but I see you discovering a lot about yourself and how stable you want your love and relationships to be. I see this person giving you a taste of this stable love and I see you enjoying your time together.

Ok, now to focus on the big message of this pile; You will be growing into your own, really getting to know yourself when it comes to this person being in your life and developing a dynamic with them. For some of you this person will show you things you may not want in love and may be a little to chaotic for your tastes even though I see this person also bringing fun so its a mixed bag. You may be in that energy too, going wild and living life but I think this relationship will bring you much love and happiness. Whenever I see the page of coins I think of my sister taking a leap and learning about what works for her and what doesn't in life that relates to routine money and stability (even in relationships). The earth element to me speaks about comforts and this person will bring a new comfort that you will enjoy so really live in the moment with this person ok? Always be open to what the possibilities are and if this person is a long time partner always be open to learning and communicating even if your feelings feel 'ridiculous', they are valid and should be spoken to the person that you are putting your heart and trust into. I do sense a big emphasis on communication which is interesting when I don't see swords in the spread but communicating is key in this new relationship coming your way (as it should be in every relationship). Trust in yourself and just be honest, if they aren't open to that then you know what is best for you.

Tarot Decks used: Tarot of the Divine By, Yoshi Yoshitani

[i-like-rocks22]

Often I see people asking how to get diagnosed with ME so i thought I would pop some ideas below! (Disclaimer: not a medical professional, just an ME-er with about 7 years experience of the disease).

For me, diagnosis was a process of elimination. I ended up going through an allergy specialist because my insurance (UK) had no idea what specialist to refer me to.

If I was doing it now, I would seek out

Reumatology (to test for other autoimmune conditions),

neurology (to check on things like migraines and brain fog),

cardiology (for fatigue and anything like headrushes or fainting), and

endocrinology (to check hormones for any imbalances or other conditions).

ME comes along with a lot of other comorbidities. For example, I have diagnoses of ME, POTS, Vasovagal Syncope, MCAS, asthma, and an ovarian cyst. Lots of these have treatment which can help my body and take some of the strain off of it.

ME 'treatments' are few and far between but if you n know what to ask for, there is help available. I am currently on Low Dose Naltrexone (LDN) and pregnenolone. There are also a few beneficial supplements that can be taken, I've added some screenshotted info below. This was reviewed by the doctor prescribing me LDN and pregnenolone and they approved!

I'm happy to answer questions (energy permitting) so DM me, yo.

It's ME awareness day and next week is ME awareness week, so here's a post about ME that you may find interesting or helpful!

I have ME it's one of my diagnoses, and I struggle with it on the daily! I wish more people understood how my body works and feels but sometimes the best I can do is a post like this

Edit: I wrote women but I mean AFAB people!!!!!! So sorry about that guys it's a silly mistake on my part!

Anyway enjoy!

ID in Alt

[icyg4l]

How Have You Grown Over the Past Year?

Hello beautiful people! Happy New Year! I am so happy to be posting this new PAC for you all. I plan to upload more frequently from now on in this new year of 2025. I am currently available for personal readings so if you would like one, please message me privately! As the title states, this reading is all about recognizing the growth you've made in the past twelve months. So without further ado, please choose the pile that resonates with you the most!

Top Left to Bottom Right: (1-4)

Pile One: You must have gone from boo'd up to single, Pile One. I am hearing the word, "uprooted". Throughout the past year, you have been put in uncomfortable situations consecutively. You could have had to switch jobs because of an incident or move homes because of a mold problem (for some of you). You could have lost multiple loved ones. Either way, these situations have helped you become more self-sufficient and resilient. Tragedies are hard to deal with, however, you have learned what not to do. You intuitively picked up on how to handle situations that others would not be able to. You may feel hardened by these particular experiences, unable to see past your traumas. But you are more empathetic than ever. It is important that you know you will be a great teacher some day. One day you will look back on everything that you have accomplished while in the midst of chaos.

Cards Used: 4 of Wands. 3 of Swords. The High Priestess. 5 of Cups. 10 of Cups.

Affirmation: "I am actively rebuilding my life one step at a time."

Pile Two: The past couple of years could have been socially debilitating for you. Some of you could have prominent Saturn placements, such as a 1H Saturn or Capricorn/Aquarius Sun. I am sensing an energy of nervousness here. It's possible that you can have prominent Virgo/Gemini energy too. Anyway, you have had a come-to-Jesus moment. For years, you have allowed yourself to fall behind, to be in the shadows. But now, you you are making the attempt to be heard and seen. But remember who you are doing this for. Is it to wear the shoes of those who've belittled you? Or is it to walk your own path with your head held high? It seems that you are choosing to believe in yourself rather than listening to other people. You're becoming bolder by the minute. It's what your inner child would have wanted. Trusting the ideas that make no sense will be fulfilling to you. Make sure that you continue to leave your mark on this world, dear.

Cards Used: 3 of Cups (RX). The Hermit. 6 of Cups. Judgment. 8 of Wands.

Affirmation: "Expressing myself comes easy."

Pile Three: You deserve a round of applause, babe. It takes a lot of strength and tenacity to be loved. To be vulnerable with someone is to be seen fully by the other person. Your energy feels like a warm embrace. Your goal of feeling whole cannot be completed without the right people around you. Be glad that you've let these people in as they genuinely care for you. You've acquired peace, because you've realized that being hyper-independent isn't enough. Because of pride, many people would not own up to their feelings of insecurity. But because you are honest with yourself and are humble enough to allow honest people in your life, you are now living in a world full of happiness. Peace and quiet is great to bask in. Just stay grounded and don't let self-sabotage get to you.

Cards Used: The World. Strength. Queen of Discs. King of Discs.

Affirmation: "Love and support surrounds me everywhere I go."

Pile Four: Self-concept is important, is it not? That's why you made the decision to stop beating yourself up. You stopped setting unrealistic goals for yourself that could have possibly landed you into the hospital, or a rehab facility. You fought for a healthier body image. You casted spells to feel more comfortable in your skin. You have reflected on the jokes and slick comments, and instead of sulking, you just sat with them. You take them to the chin. It has taken a lot of rewiring to not make yourself the butt of the joke, but here you are. Forgiving yourself is no easy journey. But you have done it. You are doing it. Now don't let anyone, including yourself, deface you again. Letting the haters hate you, instead of being a self-hater, is a damn good philosophy that you've added to your noggin, babe!

Cards Used: 7 of Wands. The Emperor. 3 of Wands. 4 of Discs. 10 of Wands (RX). Queen of Wands.

Affirmation: "I accept my body in every form that it comes in"

[aninipanin1]

I think that Anri begs adult manager! reader to force Ego to eat an actual meal that isn’t those instant noodles

EW, VEGETABLES...?

Notes: I actually love this so much, anon lol

"Good morning, Anri-san. How may I help you today?"

You greeted your fellow female manager, figure hunched over the washing machine, scrubbing the white linen sheets from the many rooms around the facility, especially the one that legit had an oyster sauce spill, leaving a spot darkened.

Anri gave her a large smile, one that is familiar, at first before her, she reached some sort of 'Eureka' moment, and her smile turned into one of disappointment she did not think of it earlier along with a hint of mischief in it.

"Actually, can you help me with something, Y/n?"

"Oh, of course! What do I do?"

The redhaired manager motioned for her to come closer, to which she followed. Cupping her hand around your ear, Anri whispered the 'task' she wanted you to do.

As she spoke, the wider your eyes became. How will you even pull this off?

"But, Anri-san..! You know how much he loves his noodles...and how he doesn't really like me."

You always thought that Ego Jinpachi, the head and director of the Blue Lock facility, never seemed to like you. He wasn't rude to you (you think because he talked to you the way he did to everyone else), but you can definitely see that he would go out of his way to avoid talking to you, approaching you or anything related to talking with you alone without Anri, unless it was something prefessional and work-related.

He also always scolds you. You know, it was just because of the betterment of the project. But why did he have to scold you for just being around Noel Noa or any of the master strikers? They were the ones handling the improvement of the boys. Of course, you need to be around them! Well, it was one of the many things you noticed, but you digressed. After all, you know you cannot please everyone, especially in a workplace environment.

So, you were a little shocked when Anri tilted her head at you, confused about your claim.

"Ego-san...doesn't like you?"

"Um, isn't it obvious, Anri-san? He doesn't really like talking to me at all, and when you aren't there with us, he will always avoid talking to me even if I try to make casual conversations! Also, he always scolds me for the stupidest reasons! Why does he get mad when I talk to Noa-san, Snuffy-san, Prince-san, or even Lavinho-san, I will never understand! It's my job to make sure that the boys are doing well and I can only make sure of that through the master strikers!"

You did not know when you started ranting, but you did. Anri, who listened to you with open ears, could not help but chuckle on the inside. She felt quite amused and also disappointed at Ego. But, she cannot say she was not surprised. Ego was one, if not the most emotionally constipated person she had ever met. It was not a surprise that he would try to avoid you.

But, why did he have to do all those things? It wasn't helping his cause at all!

'You better thank me for what I am doing, Ego-san.'

"Ego-san! Um..."

You stood there in the office where the said man was watching the many screens, watching over the progress of the players who were all training in their own ways. In your hands was a tray filled with sautéed vegetables, a bowl of rice, and some chicken in a bowl you cooked just for the man.

Even if you think he hates you, you can not just ignore someone who is literally putting their life in danger because they don't want to eat healthy things. You aren't messed up like that!

But, you did not know how to approach this, much less him. How will you even ask him to do this, much less with the strained relationship you two had? This was a really bad idea! Why did Anri have to approach you of all people for this-

"What is it?"

He turned his swivel chair to face you, his eyes a bit lidded to show that he was not that happy for being interrupted.

"I made some extra food, and uh...I thought you may want to have it."

'That's so stupid, Y/n!'

He raised an eyebrow at this, and it did not help that the look on his face showed that he did not approve of eating the pallate on the tray.

"Y/n-chan, you know I don't eat those things."

"I know...! I just didn't want to waste it. Anri-san said she already ate so..."

Ego did not say anything, turning his swivel chair to face the screens again. Just as you were about to give up and leave the room thinking that he would not accept the food at all, he raised his arm and pointed to an empty space on the desk.

"Put it there. Don't blame me if I don't eat it and it becomes rotten."

Blinking at his words, you just nodded your head, a bit dazed that he actually considered even being near the food. You did as he told before bowing and leaving to do your other chores and duties.

Needless to say, when Anri entered Ego's office, she was shocked to see the man munching on a bowl of rice with chicken and vegetables on top. His eyes were still focused on the screen, back hunched in a weird position, but he was indeed eating.

"Did Y/n pass by here..?"

"She did. Dropped this...abomination and her paperwork."

Ego answered, pointing to the food that he called 'abomination,' yet he was still eating the food, cheeks round with food. Anri nodded, yet it was obvious she did not believe the disgusted look in his face to which he only glared at her for.

"You're the one who said it. The facility should not waste food." He pointed his chopstick at her.

"Yeah, yeah. It's totally not because you favour her, definitely not." Anri shrugged, a cheeky smile as she headed out the room once she dropped the paperwork.

'I'm surrounded by simps, haahh...' She inwardly sighed.

ADDITIONAL TIME!

Anri: You like her.

Ego: No, I don't.

Also Ego: *proceeds to hoard every single thing Y/n gave him, yes, even if it was the inkless pen she passed to him to throw in the trash.*

I'm sorry if this was too short, hahaha. I didn't really know how to go deeper into this. But I hope you loved this!

Blue Lock is WRITTEN by Kaneshiro Muneyuki and ILLUSTRATED by Nomura Yusuke. All credits to the both of them.

[cinnamonest]

ah to be a girl that was dating modern!scara for some time bc she thought he was a mysterious uwu discord mod type, only to find out he’s just an incel who acts like he hates you even tho still fucking you and everything.. he doesn’t do much aside it, though. so after some time, you break up with him. or, well, tried to! it’s not like you have a right to break up with him after willingly deciding to date him, right?

happy new year, by the way! 🎉

Oh and he’s so awful as it is, literally the peak of trashy, toxic boyfriends.

Always dumping labor off on you because he knows you'll take care of whatever task it is eventually anyway, subtly guilt-tripping you all the time, always saying little things to make you insecure about this or that (just to be sure you don't get any ideas, or think anyone else would ever want you).

The sort of boyfriend that is careful about the steps he takes — God forbid he come across as insecure or desperate — but is manipulative and wears your psyche down nonetheless.

There’s a constant, but well-pulled-off effort to always ensure you feel that you’re the one that cares more, that you’re the one that’s more invested, that he’s the one who could easily pull away from you and be just fine, that you need him more than he needs you.

But this situation is particularly bad because he's just so deluded about it.

It's one of those relationships where, one day out of the blue, you halt mid-task and suddenly find yourself asking — why am I doing this to myself?

You realize you became so accustomed to it all so easily, it was just gradual enough that you never really noticed how miserable you are, until one day you just do.

So you do it. You summon up the courage to look him in the eye and say you're done.

And what you get in return is essentially a non-reaction. Rolled eyes and a long sigh of exasperation, some muttered comment about how you're being overdramatic.

He was prepared for this kind of thing, see. Females are known to do this. They don't actually mean they're breaking up with you. It's a test. They just do that sort of thing. A test designed to scare the guy and make him apologize for some mistake and get attention and doting and stuff. Very manipulative of them (but what's new).

But he's not the sort of weak loser that falls for that stuff, he knows what you're doing. So he shrugs it off, doesn't even turn around, says something about how you've threatened to leave several times now.

Then you say you mean it.

You get a sigh and a ‘yeah, sure,’ and you bite your tongue to stop yourself from lashing out about how that uncaring attitude is part of why you’re doing this to begin with.

And you storm out the door, not bothering to even glance back.

Which is surprising — didn't think you'd actually do it, but your petulance knows no bounds, apparently. Still, this is also predictable, a common form of aforementioned testing, a humiliation ritual of sorts intended to make him suck up to you.

So he gives you a few hours, but you don't send the expected text saying you're sorry and that you overreacted and please please just forget it and move on and all the other stuff you're supposed to say.

And the sun sets, and you're not back.

Oh, so you're being spiteful. Trying to make him think you “mean it” by going silent, and thereby trying to out-wait him. You think if you keep this up, he'll be the first one to break, to give in and try to get you back. This whole thing is designed for you to feel some kind of power at his expense. Well, you're wrong.

And then another day passes.

God. Unbelievable.

You're actually doing this out of pure spite, just stubbornly waiting for him to come get you.

…And here he is, now doing exactly that, like an idiot, so he mutters to himself as he finally leaves to go get you. Not that he's giving in to what you want, it's just that this is getting ridiculous and his patience for your antics has run out.

Still, he tells himself this isn't so bad, because you were probably looking forward to some sick satisfaction from getting him to beg to know where you are. Little do you know he prepared for this sort of situation, that's why there's a tracker in your purse and on your phone and in your car and such. You're not going to get any groveling out of him.

You're so manipulative. You're really lucky he puts up with you and tolerates such toxic behavior.

Likewise, he's not about to beg for you either — he knows the game you're playing, that all your pleading and fighting back and ‘I meant it!’-s are part of the schtick. Just accept that you're not going to get the entirety of what you want. You'll get the part where he takes you back like you wanted, but he has too much self-respect to plead with you. You'll just skip to the part where you come home — you're so stubborn, not getting what you want will undoubtedly make you dig your heels in and squeal and all that, but it's really no big deal. Being so childish about it is a choice that just reflects badly on you.

[sapphira-mydnyte]

♥Shy Snake King♥

Warning: Snake, pain infliction, emotional overload.

Sebastian knows Ominis is deserving of being loved & he knows who his crush is. He means no harm, but Ominis is super shy & hates it when Sebastian tries to rush things. Ominis wants to take it slow & really work on not being so shy around the one he wants, but coming from such an abusive household that thrives on dark magic makes it extremely hard for him. He doesn't want the girl he really wants to be put off by his family, nor the fact that he's a parselmouth. Although she's accepting of it, there's always going to be a part of him that's scared. That underlying fear is that you won't like him when he gets cranky or that his family will come after you. He just doesn't want any harm to come to his girl, nor for her to have a reason to hate him. He knows his animagus form is a snake of some sort because he's an heir & Ominis, loving as he is, doesn't want his girl to be scared of him when he turns into whatever snake he truly is. He hopes he's a ball python though, a very cute one & not any bigger than he is at his full height for the length of the snake.

Sebastian, being playful & meaning no harm, pushed the poor blond a little too hard. The blue-eyed heir nearly fell into a kiss on the girl he had the biggest crush on & it unnerved him entirely! "SEBASTIAN!! Get your ass back here!! You're gonna pay for that!! YOU KNOW BETTER!!" Embarrassed with a full blush on his face, he gave chase to the mischievous brunette Scotsman. Ominis was NOT having his own best friend ruin that kiss for him & that was too damned close for his comfort! "I'm the heir you idiot!! You know damned well that I have a standard!!" He fired a few shots of Depulso at Sebastian, but he dodged the spells with ease & pulled up his shield in a full run for the last one. "Come on then Ominis! I know you're better than that! You want her that bad? Huh? Do you?!" Sebastian was just slightly shorter than Ominis, but he was the better runner, which irked Ominis to no end. He had the longer stride, but Sebastian had that little extra muscle to him thanks to all the running around he did with his sister.

As for the lovely lady that had stolen Ominis' heart? She was stunned that Sebastian was that brash about it, but thought it hilarious as Ominis tore across the field & getting closer by the second as they headed for the doors to the Great Hall. "Oh, Sebastian... what am I going to do with you & Ominis?" She couldn't help but laugh at Ominis' reaction, as he was clearly not ready to make a move that quick & nearly knocked his best friend down with his sharp aim. "Oh Ominis... don't take it too hard on Sallow... he knows where your heart lies & wants you happy, plus, I don't think Anne will like it if you torch his eyebrows again." She walked towards the Great Hall, following the Slytherin boys a mile behind. Sebastian may have rushed it a bit, but she knew how to make it better. With a little smirk on her face, she strutted through the doors of the Great Hall. "Pretty boy Gaunt has no idea what he's in for later... not in the slightest." Her plan? Sneak the gorgeous blond out & give him that much needed kiss in the Undercroft after locking the door behind them. Sebastian wasn't going to ruin his moment like he said & she'd make sure that the proud heir was made into a boyfriend before the sun rose the next morning. ♥

Kabedon

Sebastian really wants to intervene in his best friend's romance🤣

[n0tamused]

How elves deal or even feel jealous? What/how easy is to make them jealous?

A/n: Hello, yes I can! You didn't specify which elves you wanted this for, so I just picked a few of the ones I thought would go nicely with this idea. Also, I am trying these different styles of hcs, so let me know if you prefer lenghtier headcanons or shorter ones like these? I'm trying to find some balance with requests and my ability to write them in time.

Contents: (all separate) Thranduil, Legolas, Lindir, Haldir, Glorfindel x GN! Reader. Jealousy hcs, not proof read lol

⋆𓄃Thranduil

-Thranduil can be quite jealous and, more so, protective over his beloved and he does not care to ever admit it. He is quite avoidant of his subjects and feels a bit shocked (or looks like it, he did expect you to point it out eventually tbh) when you point it out to him

-Would make sliding comments about your attention lingering too long on someone, or even something at times. 

-A play of words is sure to ensue if you keep pressing him for his reasons, and throughout he never raises his voice or anything of that sort, he is rather calm and eventually you come to understand that he is enjoying this, both the banter and the attention. This can be sometimes flustering or frustrating when he begins to smirk and offer sass and teasing words. 

-The Elven king has seldom ever expected to ‘fall into’ love like this, or to behave like this while loving someone, but even through his long years of living he is still learning some things. 

-Thranduil is quite wary of others, especially outsiders even if they are his distant kin. So he may keep you away from meetings or tedious dinners with any delegates or visitors that may seem like ‘too much’ for you to be exposed to them.

-He is stubborn, so chances are it would take a long time for him to let up on his views, as he deems it all necessary for your protection and happiness

-But even he cannot deny that he does carry a great weight on his heart and consciousness, and long, late night conversions are not something rare with him. He enjoys them more than anything else because he feels more justified to be vulnerable when the rest of the world falls asleep. He is more open to physical touch as well, and he tells you his worries and his feelings clearly then. 

🍃Legolas

-The prince of Mirkwood is still quite green in the area of emotions and how one deals with them, despite his years. But he is notably much softer in comparison to his father. 

-He would find it odd that he feels this way and would hide it away from you for the longest time until he can bear it no longer. It is like poison to him

-Although you would be able to see it all happening and coming down on him with the way he stares out at nothing, sometimes at the people besides you, the way his lips pull into a deep carved frown and how his jaw sets, almost uncomfortably, even for an elf - especially for an elf. His shoulders are so tense you can put a table on him

-Once he expresses his feelings to you he does apologize as well, he doesn’t want you thinking that he doesn’t trust you or that he believes you’d go behind his back and take the offer of another heart - he truly can’t explain the feelings and where they stem from.

-It’s multiple things all at once - he wants you safe and happy, and the people around may not have the purest intentions, but at the same time he feels odd that you sometimes seem to be having much more fun with someone else than him. So there’s quite a lot to unpack with him, but he is not impatient or unwilling to learn.

♬Lindir

-Lindir is more prone to fits of jealousy that strike seemingly out of nowhere, he is quite dense with it too although not nearly as secretive as he would like himself to be. He may be quiet, but the face he stays quiet with is a completely different story..

-His jealousy does stem from a sense of insecurity in his own ability to be a good partner for you, it eats away at him at times and he can take up to saying witty responses to the individual/s that he perceives as sources of his feelings. He is never malicious of course, neither to you or them, as he understand these feelings can quickly turn to poison

-He may require some more support from you at times like these, and in private he feels utterly defeated in face of his own jealousy. He is not the one to openly ask for attention from you, but at times like these he may ask you questions that may reassure him again. Hold his face in your hands and just kiss the elf, that would be my advice, plainly delivered 

-He would grow flustered at such actions, and he may even give you some sass for it, but he is never refusing your advances at pouring some more of your love on him 

°˖➴Haldir

-The Marchwarden of Lorien is not the most open when it comes to his own emotions and it can be difficult to read his exact trail of thoughts at times. But jealousy is not foreign to Haldir, he knows how it feels and he has long since come to truly dislike(hate) it.

-It is unbecoming of his station and just of his own character in general. Nonetheless, this jealousy he feels holds its roots in worry for your safety rather than any kind of distrust of you, and it's greatly amplified by the distance between the two of you when he is away on duty. 

-Haldir doesn’t act out on his jealousy, although he makes his opinion known if he agrees or disagrees with you on your choice of companions. If he is at home with you, he would also tag along with you, if you so desired or if he just really, really did not like the company you’re going to be with. He knows nearly everyone in Lorien, and so he knows who to be wary of. That is not to say anyone from there would be a liability when it comes to physical harm, he knows that much is less likely to happen, but when it comes to needs that are more from within, love, need for attention - then he is not so sure. He cannot read the minds of others, and everyone changes over time, even elves. 

-His jealousy does lessen up when he is with you, as he is not as worried when he has you in his eye. If there is danger, Haldir would do whatever was in his power to eradicate the source of it. 

-You may notice this particular mood on him by the stiffness of his jaw and the hard look he sometimes directs at no one in general, as if holding an internal monologue with himself over what he’s experiencing and feeling

☼Glorfindel

-The Slayer of Balrogs is not susceptible to jealousy, and he was never a jealous individual to begin with. And that’s also without mentioning that he trusts his partner as well, otherwise he would not be with someone he did not trust.

-After his re-embodiment he may come off as a little clingy - he stays with you for as long as he can, not letting any moment go to waste, even if you are an immortal being as he is. He leaves kisses on your hands and your forehead when no one is around to see, it is intimate and he simply wants you to know that you will always have his love and support

-He is also very clear in his communication with you, and trusts that you’ll tell him if anything is bothering you, although sometimes he does know to postpone telling you something if he believes it could put a strain on you. 

-He is quite free spirited though and open minded at that, just a chill guy, the chillest on this list I dare say

-All in all.. 10/10, would recommend 

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.